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As we pulled into the driveway, Jean opened the front door and walked out to greet us. Wearing exactly what I had asked her to wear.
Nothing!
Apart from elastic top black stockings and blood red shoes. Jean had made it quite clear that she expected to have sex with me, and that she was used to nudity and sex in front of others. So I had decided to test her boundaries.
“That’s a bit revealing, Mother!” said Margaret, her eyebrows raised, glancing nervously around to see if anyone was watching from the street. Margaret clearly found the sight of her naked mother quite confronting. Jean, on the other hand, showed no sign of bashfulness, made not the slightest attempt to cover up, and boldly waited outside while we locked the car. Her boundaries obviously extended to greeting guests in the nude, although it was certainly the first time she had greeted her daughter and son-in-law this way.
“That’s what your pervert of a husband wanted me to wear,” said Jean, grinning. She held up her face for Margaret to kiss. Normally they would have embraced, but Margaret seemed to shrink from contact with her mother’s naked body.
“Do you approve of what you see,” said Jean.
I showed no such restraint and took her in my arms to kiss her mouth, feeling her hard nipples through my shirt.
“You look beautiful,” I replied. It was the truth, and, as there was no pretence, took the opportunity to visually examine her. Admiring the slender shapely legs, the firm rounded thighs and bottom with only traces of cellulite, and the exercise toned stomach and pert breasts. For a woman in her sixties she had managed to preserve a remarkably youthful figure. There was grey in her short, wavy hair, and deep experience lines around her eyes, but the expertly applied make up hid most of time’s unflattering etching. Her skin was a pure creamy white, and her parted legs offered me a clear view of her sex, which I had also asked Clarence to ensure was freshly shaven. As she submitted to my gaze, a mischievous grin playing across her lips, there was a nymph-like, erotic quality about her, as if she had just stepped away from posing for Norman Lindsay. In fact she would have made the ideal subject for a more mature version of the nude woman in The Blue Hat.
Physically, Margaret had inherited more of her father’s genes. She was taller and more sturdily built than her mother, and of darker complexion, reminding me of British celebrity cook Nigella Lawson. I had already seen both Margaret and her mother naked together, but had been too preoccupied with Kinbaku ropes and other bondage implements to fully appreciate the differences. The way things were going though, I had reasonable hopes for a more leisurely opportunity to study them both naked.
“It’s not very warm out here, so when you’ve finished ogling my mother, perhaps we should move inside,” said Margaret.
“Ogling is the least of the things she can expect this evening,” I replied.
The sun was setting as we followed Clarence through to the large family room of their Eastern Suburbs’ home. Through its westerly facing picture windows, the red ball of the sun was sinking behind the bridge, setting the water of Sydney Harbour ablaze.
“Champagne?” said Clarence, handing glasses to Margaret and me. “You both look as if you need something to help you relax.”
It was a reasonable supposition. In giving me her panties, Jean had offered to have sex in exchange for their return. Now she, and her husband and daughter, expected me to go through with it, while they looked on. Margaret looked flushed and agitated. She had seen her mother naked many times before, but not dressed as an odalisque, awaiting a man’s pleasure. I was nervous too, hoping that Jean would not be disappointed. Smilingly expectantly at me, she seemed as calm as I supposed any woman would be who was used to making love with other men while her husband looked on. Clarence seemed equally calm, topping up our glasses with a knowing smirk, as if he was looking forward to seeing if I would be able to perform. There were butterflies in my stomach, but that wasn’t the reason why. In fact he and I had already discussed what would follow. I pulled Jean’s panties out of my pocket and dropped them on the tray next to the ice bucket.
“These are for you, Clarence,” I said.
I could have sworn there was a look of disappointment in Jean’s eyes, and Margaret’s thick dark, neatly plucked eyebrows arched upwards.”
“Did you really think I was going to have sex with your mother?” I said.
“Why is she naked then?”
“Because she’s going to have sex with somebody.”
Margaret knitted her brows in confusion. “But what if Dad gives her panties back to you.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” snapped Jean, folding her arms across her breasts. “Why don’t the three of you play pass the parcel with them, and let me know when you’ve reached a decision.”
“I have reached a decision, Jean,” I said, taking a swig of champagne to calm the butterflies. I might have been out of the spotlight, but görükle escort the thought of watching my in-laws make love was equally thrilling.
“And you want me to make love with Clarence, while you watch,” she said, intuitively.
“Yes, if that’s all right with you,” I said.
“I gather you’ve already discussed this with Clarence,” said Jean, smiling as realisation dawned. “He’ll have no objection, and after what I told you last weekend, you know that I’m quite used to being watched. What about you Margaret. Are you prepared to see your father naked and aroused, making love to your mother?”
For a moment there was silence as Margaret considered her words, and I wondered if she was going to back out.
“I’d accepted the idea of watching James make love to you,” she said finally. “But maybe it is better if we don’t rush in to breaking more taboos.”
Jean’s throaty chuckle was delightful. “Watching your parents make love is taboo enough,” she said. “But I haven’t got all dressed up like this to back out now.” She rubbed her hands across her breasts, caressing her nipples with her fingertips. “Besides, my nipples are achingly hard and I’m wetter than Kakadu in the cyclone season, so I probably wouldn’t refuse any reasonable request at the moment.”
“I’m glad to hear you say that,” said Clarence,” draining his champagne flute. “I’ve had some ideas that might make this evening very entertaining.”
“Thought you might,” said Jean, who had dropped a hand to her crotch and seemed to be unashamedly and gently strumming her clitoris with a fingertip. “But don’t spoil the anticipation by telling me. You know I like surprises.”
“Excellent, well that’s settled then,” said Clarence rubbing his palms together. “James, there’s more champagne in the fridge, if you’d top the glasses up. Margaret, there’s a box of toys in my study. And please fetch a towel on your way back.”
Margaret disappeared off to the study while I popped another bottle. Jean was smiling broadly and drained half a glass, which I immediately topped up.
“I’ve got a feeling you aren’t disappointed,” she said, raising a hand to my cheek and stroking it. “Clarence really wouldn’t have minded, and I was looking forward to enjoying your cock, after what we’ve read about it. But maybe it is just one step to far too fast.” She dropped her hand to my crotch and ran her fingertips gently up my fly. “Mmmmm, you feel nice and hard already. I hope I can keep you that way for Margaret to enjoy later.”
“What can I enjoy later?” said Margaret, returning with a box and a towel.
“You can enjoy your husband’s hard penis. Seems it was looking forward to stretching this old pussy of mine. But I’ll have to wait for another occasion.”
Thwack!
Jean jumped as Clarence slapped her hard on the rump, leaving the faint outline of a hand-print.
“You’ll be stretched enough by the end of the night.” He turned towards Margaret. “Spread the towel on the table and find the wrist and ankle cuffs in that box” He aimed another slap at Jean’s buttocks which she took without flinching or complaint. “Climb onto the table and lie on your back, feet towards the window.”
The table was at the far end of the family room close to the picture windows. It was an ideal spot for a leisurely lunch or dinner, looking out across Sydney Harbour. The view was partially obscured by one or two houses and a tower block. From some of the upper eastern facing windows their occupants probably had a clear view into the room, especially as the lights were on now that darkness was falling. I knew better than to expect Clarence to draw the curtains, and I wondered if their more voyeuristic neighbours were used to enjoying the erotic tableaus that evidently played out here. Perhaps even now there were binoculars and telephoto lenses being snapped into focus on Jean’s naked body.
Margaret bent down to the box and stood up holding four short leather straps to each of which was fitted a steel ring and a shackle bolt snap clip.
“One on each wrist and ankle, please Margaret,” said Clarence.
“Are you okay with this, Mum,” said Margaret, her brow creased into a frown.
“Yes, Darling,” said Jean, holding up a wrist around which Margaret buckled a strap. “Your father’s probably going to secure me in some very uncomfortable and vulnerable position, but that’s okay, he’ll make it worth my while.”
She raised the other wrist and then lay back submissively while Margaret buckled the remaining straps around her ankles. When she was done, Clarence reached for Jean’s right leg, folded it at the knee, rotated it back and clipped the ankle to her right wrist. With the left ankle similarly clipped to the left wrist, Jean was effectively secured in a simpler version of the open leg crab. Even with her arms fully extended, the connection of her wrists to her ankles forced her bottom up off the table top, and with her legs parted, widening her vulva and anus, she was invitingly exposed and vulnerably accessible. Clarence reached görükle escort bayan for a cushion from the sofa, placed it under Jean’s head and then bent down and kissed her. She opened her mouth hungrily, and for several moments their lips were passionately locked.
“Comfortable, Darling,” said Clarence as their mouths parted. He gently stroked a hand down over her breasts and belly, before lightly brushing his fingertips across her vulva.
“Yes,” breathed Jean, trying to lift her hips to meet his fingers.
With Jean lying on her back with her legs spread, restrained into a position ideally suited for a detailed and invasive examination of all her openings, I was pleasurably reminded of the gynaecological procedures featured on fetish porn sights. They were fake though, the participants amateur or professional actors. This, on the other hand, was real. Jean had no control over what Clarence intended to do to her, including the fact that whatever he did would be witnessed by her daughter and son-in-law. I was unashamed to admit that I was eagerly anticipating whatever was to come. I was not so sure about Margaret though. She was staring down at her mother’s body, but her face was flushed and she avoided meeting her gaze, as if struggling to look away, but unable to do so, simultaneously captivated and repelled by the sight of her own mother open, exposed and vulnerable on the table.
“Isn’t she an erotic sight,” said Clarence with a smirk, clearly sensing Margaret’s discomfort.
“She’s my mother,” said Margaret, finally managing to look away.
“She’s my lover and a very exciting woman,” said Clarence, again stoking his fingers over Jean’s increasingly aroused looking sex. “There’s no need to deny her the enjoyment of her sexuality, just because she’s your mother. You enjoy sex with James and Jean enjoys sex with me. I think we’re all mature and open-minded enough to share some of that enjoyment with each other.”
“But it feels … confusing,” said Margaret. “I can’t deny part of me is excited, but the other part tells me it’s wrong to feel that way.”
There was deep sigh from Jean, and Margaret and I glanced down to see that she had closed her eyes while Clarence’s fingers were easing her inner lips apart to reveal her flushed pink cleft, and the pearl of her engorged clitoris pushing clear of its hood.
“There’s nothing wrong about seeing a woman respond to her lover’s touch,” said Clarence gently rubbing a fingertip across Jean’s clitoris. “She doesn’t care whose watching her now. Forget about who she is, about who we are, just enjoy the moment.”
“But what about consent?” said Margaret. “How does she give it when she can’t resist anything you want to do to her?”
“Doesn’t the very fact that she’s allowed me to put her into that position suggest she’s already consented? Or at the very least trusts me not to do anything she wouldn’t want.” He paused and smiled patiently at Margaret. “Anyway she’s not deaf or dumb, just ask her.”
“Mum?” said Margaret.
Jean opened her deep hazel eyes and smiled, dreamily. “You can do anything you want to me.”
Clarence turned his attention back to Jean. Stroking and caressing her breasts and rubbery hard nipples with one hand, while teasing her clitoris with the other. Her labia were already pink and puffy, and the entrance to her vagina had opened like a ripening flower, ringed with beads of nectar. Sensing her building arousal, Clarence removed his fingers, bringing forth a soft, disappointed moan.
“I know it’s not politically correct to say this, the male gaze and all that,” said Clarence, reaching both hands between Jean’s legs, “but I do like to open a women up so that I can have a good look at her sex.” He placed his fingers either side of Jean’s outer lips and gently pulled her vulva apart. “Isn’t that a magnificent sight?”
“You men!” said Margaret. “Obsessed with our cunts. No sooner do we push you out, than you’re desperate to get back in.”
“Who can blame them, Darling,” said Jean, smiling up at us from the table. “What was it Anais Nin wrote,” she paused waiting for her memory to unlock. “Ah yes. ‘”How do I look to him”, she asked herself … The sight was enchanting. The skin was flawless, the vulva roseate and full. She thought it was like the gum plant leaf with its secret milk that the pressure of the fingers could bring out, the odorous moisture that came like the moisture of sea shells. She was Venus born of the sea with this little kernel of salty honey in her, which only caresses could bring out of the hidden recesses of her body’.”
“We had a poem at school that was not nearly so romantic,” said Margaret. “It goes like this.
“Oh you slimy slippery slit,
Just half an inch removed from shit.
How men can wallow in my piss,
And call it everlasting bliss,
I’m fucked if I know.”
“Perhaps the Almighty could have laid things out a little better,” chuckled Clarence. “But placing the vagina between the waterworks and the sewage outlet escort görükle does have compensations. From what I’ve read of James’ stories, you seem to have discovered some of them, Margaret.” He raised one hand and beckoned her closer. “Come on, apart from sitting yourself down in front of a mirror, I’ll bet you’ve never had a close look at a woman before.”
It wasn’t strictly true. Margaret had had ample opportunity to get to know Sofietje’s body during our encounters at the resort and later at our home. She shook her head in mock resignation, but leaned in for a closer look, while Clarence held her mother’s labia apart.
I also bent down for a better view. I had seen open vulvas in porn, but apart from Margaret’s I had never been offered the chance to examine one in the flesh. And Jean’s certainly was very attractive. Her outer and inner lips were less puffy than Margaret’s, and the inner lips smaller and neater. When aroused, Margaret’s inner lips spread into the appearance of a pink butterfly. Jean’s were more heart shaped. I grinned, there was something so lewd about a man deliberately displaying his wife’s sex to public gaze. I had to resist a strong urge to suggest to Margaret that she hop up onto the table beside Jean, so we could compare mother and daughter.
Jean, meanwhile, was patiently submitting to her examination, and from the smile on her face looked as if she was enjoying it. On the other hand it must have been uncomfortable for her to remain restrained with her ankles shackled to her wrists. I knew that she and Margaret attended yoga classes together, which accounted for her flexibility. She was also a keen swimmer, which helped preserve her youthful figure. Nevertheless, the constant stress on her sixty plus year old hip joints, knees and shoulders was causing her to sweat. There were glistening beads on her brow and her armpits were slick.
Jean had told us that Clarence liked to see her in pain, and that she enjoyed the extra edge it added to her pleasure. Surprisingly Margaret had not seemed to notice that Jean was sweating with discomfort, or if she had, perhaps she was turning out to be her father’s daughter. My interest was further piqued when Clarence reached for Margaret’s hand.
“Would you like touch another woman,” he said, softly.
“I can’t touch my own mother … down there!” said Margaret, snatching back her hand.
“You didn’t object to touching Sofietje,” I said.
“I suppose you’re going to tell me that a touch feels the same, whomever gives it?” said Margaret, with narrowed eyes.
“Yes.”
“So I’ll remind you of that when Dad offers his cock for you to touch,” she said grinning in triumph.
I suppose I should have seen that coming, along with the almost inevitable probability that if things progressed in the direction we appeared to be heading, I would eventually have to accept a man’s hand on my penis, maybe even my father-in-law’s. It was a scary thought, but exciting at the same time, and I nodded.
“All right then, I’ll do it.” She extended her hand and allowed Clarence to guide it until her fingertips rested against Jean’s outer lips.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” said Margaret as she continued to glide her fingers over Jean’s labia. There was a momentary hesitation, as her fingers poised on the edge, then she slid them in between her mother’s inner lips and gently probed the entrance to her vagina.
My heart was pounding so hard it was almost painful as I watched Margaret explore her mother’s cleft, and saw the lust in Clarence’s eyes.
“Shall we make her cum together?” he said, turning his head towards me. “You can stroke her breasts. You’ll find she can stand having her nipples pinched pretty hard while she climaxes.” He turned back towards Margaret. “She also likes having her arse fingered.”
I held my breath waiting for Margaret’s reaction. Then my mouth gaped with astonishment as Margaret calmly dipped her fingers deeper into her mother’ s opening, held them up to admire the glistening nectar that clung to them, and stroked the tips gently across the puckered brown bud of her anus.
“In for a penny, in for a pound.”
“Good girl. Didn’t know you remembered pre-decimal currency,” whispered Clarence, grinning. He watched Margaret’s fingertips stroking around the anal ring, then he dipped his own fingers into Jean’s vagina and reached for her clitoris with the other hand.
Moving up the table I reached for Jean’s breasts, looking down to find her smiling up at me with her eyes open. Her flesh felt warm and soft as I gently squeezed her breasts, admiring the elasticity of her creamy skin. And she moaned softly as I ran my fingertips over and around her nipples, although I could hardly flatter myself that it was all my doing. Clarence’s fingers were busy around her clitoris, while those of the other hand were buried deep inside her, apparently probing her G spot. Below them I could see one of Margaret’s fingers gently probing her mother’s anus. If the idea of my making love to Jean had been hard to believe, what I was witnessing now was astounding. Both Margaret and I were taking part in the act of bringing her mother to a climax. Something which was not very far away, as I could feel her squirming and jerking beneath my hands, and her moans had turned insistent and frequent.
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