To be fair, there was nothing wrong with Jean that better packaging wouldn’t have fixed — but she tended to unflattering outfits that papered over her small bust instead of emphasizing it and baggy jeans that made her ass look saggy, despite being high-waisted. Her flyaway hair tended to be corralled in the severe control of a bun, rather than allowed to flow about her narrow face naturally; basically, she couldn’t have looked much more like a scarecrow if she’d tried! Her current outfit was a case in point — a navy blue one-piece bathing suit of a halter-top design — but it showed NO cleavage as the front panel extended all the way to the neck! Sure, her back showed — so what? The dark color made her look narrower than she already was, and the top swept up over her teacup titties, flattening her chest even further … Candace had disparaged her habits of dress on a hundred occasions, but Jean was habituated; once Hugh had discovered her, back when, he had actually reinforced the bad habits that had made her a wallflower all through high school and halfway through college for reasons of his own — basically, the LAST thing he wanted was for another male to discover what he’d latched onto — and of course, since his death there was no visible reason to reverse the trend…
Hugh hadn’t been any fool; turned out properly, Jean would have become instantly popular — and he’d have had a fight on his hands to keep his hot-blooded little red-haired minx! For Jean, once captured, had been a source of incredible pleasure to Hugh — high-strung, athletic, insatiable, Jean had been the perfect lover, behind closed doors. Unfortunately, Hugh had turned up with an undiscovered heart condition four years ago — and in the aftermath, shy Jean had put that facet of her personality back in its box…
Outside, Rick sat up and eyed Lon, "So, all I have to do is not get in the way?"
Lon shrugged. "Well, you COULD help…"
"What happens if Mom fails to fall for your boyish charm?" Rick asked, snickering. Toby snorted laughter, too, in the background.
Lon shrugged. "Then we have to take alternate days with Toby’s mama, I guess. It’ll definitely complicate things. Of course, if you’re working MY mother over…"
"Sounds complicated," Rick laughed.
"Only for you!" Lon replied. "I’d be pretty much locked in to Toby’s mom, and Toby would have the same issue with my mama — only you could sample both!"
"Right!" Rick snorted. "Or lose out on BOTH ends!"
"Well, like I said — you could help!" Lon looked sly.
"Oh, so now it’s not enough to look the other way — I’ve got to lead her to the slaughter!" Rick rolled his eyes.
Lon shrugged. "We’d be doing her a favor! Look, how old is she — thirty-five?"
Rick did the math. "A bit older, I think. Thirty-seven? Thirty-eight?"
Lon shook his head. "Man, that’s PRIME! She’s probably suffering!"
Suffering! Jean fumed. Rick’s first guess was right — she was thirty-seven. But suffering? Not likely! She wasn’t MALE, after all — driven by her gonads! You just had to exercise some control … Granted, it was tough every once in a while, but if you left it alone, things settled down after a bit. Jean knew that Candace masturbated — and now she knew that Beth did, too — but she avoided it; her twat (Hugh loved to call it that) was for men — and if you couldn’t find a man, well, fingers didn’t belong there. That only led to more frustration, and in the extremity, promiscuity…
All this concentration on her libido, however, was taking its toll; feelings that she’d buried safely for a couple of years were crawling up out of the hole like zombies…
"Suffering?" Rick raised an eyebrow. "I’m not seeing it."
Lon shrugged. "Women in your mother’s position get this martyrdom thing going. She probably thinks she has it sewed up and it’s not an issue. But if we get the juices flowing, she’ll come around…"
Lon’s choice of words stung Jean; her juices WERE flowing, suddenly, to her instant mortification! The crotch of her bathing suit was suddenly swampy — God! What on Earth was she thinking? It was just all that salacious talk Lon was turning out, surely…
Rick shook his head. "Man, I give you somewhere between zero and minus five for chances. Mom’s a drone, or something…"
A drone? Jean gasped.
Lon sat forward and eyed Rick intently. "Dude, she is NOT a drone! I see YOU sitting there — and that means she’s a proven producer! A woman who has babies fucks — it doesn’t happen any other way! All we have to do is bring her back on line … Are you in?"
Rick sat back, pensive, pulling his lip. "Are we setting any limits? I’m hearing that I should help…"
Lon shrugged. "Well, you can’t DO her — that’s incest. How about this — the third guy in the situation gets to arbitrate if the guy hunting asks the son to do something the son feels is too kinky…"
Rick flicked his eyes to Toby. "What about you?"
Toby rubbed his oily face and glared at his hand in disgust. Reaching for a napkin, he grunted, "This is way out there, Man — but on the other hand, Lon’s got a point! A woman HAS to be a better sex partner than a girl — that way at least one of us knows what they’re doing … I think we should give it a shot. Even if your mom isn’t going to come out, chances are I can get Lon’s to take pity on me, at least — and, frankly, I think he’s got something with this idea that they need it! I think Ma would be a lot happier if she was getting a little once in a while…" Actually, Toby was certain; the crying jags that his mother went on when frustration welled up in her and intensified her low self-esteem saddened him.
Rick locked eyes with the smaller teen. "Are you in or out?"
"In!" Toby replied firmly.
Rick swiveled his regard to Lon. "All right. I’m in."
"Shake on it!" Lon stuck out his paw. The three of them rapped hands. "If nothing else, this will add a bit of excitement around here!" he quipped.
I have GOT to tell Candace and Beth what these cock-hounds are up to! Jean vowed to herself. Draining the water from the sink, she backed away from it and headed upstairs to her room where she could have privacy for the phone call.
On the way, however, another thought intruded — would they believe her? After all, boys did a lot of bragging — this could all be bravado, loose talk to fill a summer afternoon … Candace would probably laugh at her. Beth would undoubtedly be horrified and embarrassed, but Toby was the least of the three, where it came to bravery and women — these revelations and his mother’s reaction to them could actively hurt him! No, she had to find out how serious they were about all this before she went blabbing about this pact of theirs…
The thought process left her standing in her bedroom, looking in her full-length mirror. What to do? Obviously, she was going to have to put herself out there as bait … Would just being there be enough? Or was anything more than that entrapment? The drone comment had stung… I am NOT a drone! Jean affirmed to herself, and turned to her dresser.
Five minutes later, she re-examined herself in the mirror. It had been several years since she had appeared anywhere in the tiny white bikini she had replaced the one-piece with; it was a couple of three inch triangles and strings, above, and narrowly cut enough below that a substantial portion of her tiny ass cheeks were on display. The crotch emphasized the almost three-finger gap in the hollow between her narrow thighs, too. 'I’ll have to shave a bit, ' she thought, eyeing the wisps that escaped the edges. Striding to the bathroom, she quickly gathered the materials and whipped off the tiny bikini bottom, foamed up, and narrowed the extent of her fur patch, bending like a pretzel to get the thin wisps in the hollows of her thighs. Along the way, it occurred to her that this was a lot of work to respond to a bit of adolescent male posturing — but that drone comment still rankled.