DROOL
CHAPTER FOUR
Girls were simply more interesting, to its own surprise.
Logically men were the key. It was a spray, and men were a hose. And there was a delight in improving and optimizing the world’s pump. Toning and improving the fast-twitch muscle fibers that sent it on a wonderful waterslide, exiting into the air in orgasmic droplets. It spent a long time improving testicles. That was home. They could be bigger and heavier, with incredible capacity, turning a mere bungalow into a spacious mansion. To lug around these hefty nuts it gave a general command—more muscle. More cock. More everything, only the very best for its ambulatory nozzles.
But girls...
Girls were fascinating.
Making them happy hosts was a serious challenge. Sure, it could just riddle with endorphins, but that meant limp bodies with no motivation for repeated seeding. Hoses wanted to spray, but how could you make a girl want to get doused?
What was the key?
There was so much to learn, and, for an organism that didn’t think, it was an exciting challenge.
Female neural tissues were a mess of conflicting desires, difficult just to untangle. Need to impress, to be wanted, to be protected, to be lusted after, to be bred, to be penetrated roughly, to be penetrated tenderly, to be penetrated repeatedly. It set up shop and got to work. There was much, much to do.
At least tits were easy to grow.
As a side effect to optimization of its beloved hosts there was some minor and unintentional... wear and tear.... To neural tissue. Unimportant stuff. Probably. As little as necessary to make room.
It was pretty sure no one would miss it, and released a few more endorphins, out of guilt.
“Ooh,” Audrey said.
It was such a raw sound of pleasure that Jennifer even looked up. “Raw sounds of pleasure” were just not what Audrey did. Grunting, she did a lot of that, Audibly scowling was a big one, and all sorts of disapprovals. A shocked sound, of a happy girl, that was completely new. Or at least, it was in her six-year experience as a step-mom.
Audrey was staring right back at the mirror, despite the many burning bulbs, holding a stick of lipstick in her hand. It was Jennifer’s. Her brightest, silliest, bimbo-iest stick, a pink-pink one that didn’t need to mention bubblegum flavoring. Of course it was bubblegum flavored. She had done an amazing job coating her lips with it. As Jennifer watched, she practiced a silly, brainless, O-ring expression, and looked about to cry, she was so happy.
Jennifer surprised herself. She was so happy too.
She’d expected rough times when she’d first collected a sullen teenaged step-daughter. But it had been so stereotypical, so tired, for them to battle. She was sure even Audrey would see that. Yes, she was just a dozen years older than her new semi-kid. Nearly a dozen. And she’d been proudly femme, where Audrey wore black when she cared and pajamas when she didn’t. Jennifer didn’t feel like a prized pig, or a girl trophy, but the Age Gap was real, and Anthony was a bald man with several expensive cars. Still, no doubt they’d watch Step-Mom a few times and find some common ground.
There had been no common ground.
The issue had been—not her. There was no startled rejection of an intruder mother, a cuckoo in the nest. No truce, even a reluctant one, between the girls of the household. No sitcom moments where she grandly came out in black leather, to Audrey’s grudging approval. Audrey just had real problems and was a lot depressed. It was hard to get her through high school, it was hard to get her into even community college. Hard and grinding work. She didn’t really care about Jennifer, but, then, she didn’t a lot care about anything.
And Jennifer had just—lost interest. In her wildest hopes she’d thought—not a sister, exactly, since Jennifer was fucking her Dad, but perhaps a favored and wise Aunt? Instead this was like getting a sick hamster through K-12 schooling. It had been an unrewarding grind. She’d looked at Audrey, her face pimpled, her face drawn, and felt just—sad. It was all sad.
And then Audrey had come home with a latte.
Two lattes, the following day.
Jennifer had been walking Audrey to class, because, otherwise, she tended not to make it. Her shuffling step-daughter in her pajama pants, stuffed with anti-depressants, wearing airpods and a backpack with just water in it. And she’d passed the same scent of lavender, as was piling up in the trash cans, and suggested—lets get a drink. Together.
Audrey had looked both directions, like she was getting ready for a secret, and nodded her in. Jennifer was confused by it. They’d never shared a confidence before. But it became clear when the hunk redhead behind the counter had Pinked her Drink, as he called it, and she’d tried it. She’d felt—not euphoria. She’d done drugs. It wasn’t that.
It was bliss. And now her sad step-daughter was feeling it too.
And then—it had been a wild two weeks. They’d finally found something in common, and it was getting extremely large triple lattes with extra caramel and extra-extra-EXTRA Pink at the coffee shop on the way to community college. They’d actually walked in step, instead of Jennifer either behind her step-daughter, making sure she kept moving, or ahead, when she got frustrated. They’d had conversations, about girl stuff. Animated conversations. And then—she’d felt so girlish, so feminine—she’d suggested that Audrey try a little makeup.
Just to see if she liked it.
“Well?” Jennifer said, to this new Audrey. Happy Audrey. Audrey wearing lipstick, an amazing sight.
“I look like some cheap tart,” Audrey said, smacking her pink lips together. “Ooh, bubblegum-flavored.”
“The key to perfect hotness,” Jennifer said, “Is to look like an expensive tart trying to look like a cheap tart. And that means concealer!” She was doing makeup with Audrey. Incredible.
They’d started getting Pinked-up drinks on the way back from class as well and—Jennifer wasn’t sure how to describe how Pink made her feel. They had a way of improving a girl’s mood.
She’d had her own considerable doubts about her life. Who, when it came down to it, WANTED her? Anthony lived in a complicated world of important men and entangled S-corps, of which she was a small sliver. She worked, but not like he worked. She had a career, but not like he had a career. Audrey was—Audrey. Jennifer had been feeling... parasitical. She and Anthony weren’t even having a lot of sex.
Pink said: why not change that? When Anthony got home yesterday she gave him a blowjob.
A no questions asked blowjob. Suddenly she felt very wanted. A girl who gave head was always popular, especially when it was sloppy and long and her drool was running down the length of his cock. She really enjoyed herself. She generally deferred from the more submissive sex acts, not wanting to feel too much the younger mistress. Sex, yes, but mutual, not... sucking his penis.
She’d been missing out. After all, she’d considered, while feeling his penis in her mouth, there WERE certain biological truths to their situation. He was her lion. She had to act her age, on her knees.
“Do you smell—is that lavender?” he’d asked, while rubbing her hair.
And then Audrey had shown up wearing tights, to walk to school. Early, without very cautious nagging. She took her meds without prodding. They were nearly first in line at the coffee shop, and drank extra extra large drinks, with extra Pink.
“This is gonna give us enormous asses,” Jennifer had said. They kept joking about weight gain. It was kind of nice, although there WAS some weight gain.
“I already have an enormous ass,” Audrey had said. “Mom’s only gift to me. I mean... Pamela’s gift.”
Pamela’s gift. Did that mean SHE was Mom? Jennifer considered this, with new hope, while her step-daughter fumbled with concealer. It was true. Audrey, deep underneath the pajamas, had more curves than a mountain pass. And now it was actually visible, in her tights. She didn’t even throw sweats over the rear. A glimmer of femininity. Jennifer had felt so good about the Pamela thing she gave Anthony another sloppy blowjob, before fucking him gently. Squeezing his cock felt extra good, that night.
Audrey had started dressing like a girl. She hadn’t worn pajamas at all. Jennifer wasn’t even sure where the clothes came from, until she recognized a brief tartan skirt on this new step-daughter. It was hers. It didn’t fit right, since Audrey’s big butt was considerable, and she looked pretty naughty for class. But Jennifer didn’t say anything. After all, Audrey was coming to her. A lot. “Jennifer, is this blouse okay?” “Can we stop by Macy’s for a—I think I got a late growth spurt?” “Do you like these shoes? Are they cute?”
They were cute. Audrey was on a fast journey to being cute. Jennifer felt driven to match her. Her own dreams were sweaty and enlightening. The glory of her situation, of being a kept, younger woman, was that she had space to excel. Time and money and energy. And now she had the drive.
She started with blowjobs. Why not? She was sucking Anthony a lot. Something had been unlocked, in her. She liked sucking cock. She could be the very best at them, if she tried. And she did try, very hard. Anthony was getting home earlier and earlier. He approved her burst of home improvement projects, after he’d nutted in her face.
And then she’d suggested... casually... nervously.. when they were both doped to the gills on Pink...
She’d suggested a little fun makeup session.
“Sure!” Audrey had said, beaming. Beaming!
“So are we GOING for, you know, a little slutty?” Jennifer said, as casually as she could. Pink lipstick, her way-too-short skirt, and a brief white blouse that Audrey was definitely going to drool on. All their laundry was lavender-scented. Jennifer had been a bit dribbly herself. “Is there a special someone to be slutty at? You can tell me.”
“MOM,” Audrey huffed. Jennifer soared to new heights. Audrey coughed, embarrassed, but it was too late. Mom. And she was going to be the very best step-mom there was.
“You only wear pink lipstick AT someone,” Jennifer insisted. “Audrey. Please. You’re wearing a skirt, you’re SMILING, who is it?” They had both gone through enormous big-gulp style coffee milkshakes, generously dosed with Pink. Jennifer hadn’t blinked at the $20 price point. Per drink. The trash was filling up, and the house smelled like fresh lavender. Deep breath, and then Audrey blinked.
Her step-daughter handed over her phone. She’d taken a creep shot of her crush. He stood behind a podium, in front of a whiteboard. His sleeves were rolled up to reveal an expensive platinum watch, dark-haired forearms. Audrey’s professor. His beard was more salt than pepper. Jennifer nearly choked.
“He is NOT married,” Audrey said, her hackles raised.
“Have you ever talked to him? Or just been lectured at?” Jennifer said. She returned the phone. She had to—no. This was Audrey’s dream. She had to think about it.
“He said I—” Audrey had reached her limit. A natural blush added to the pink lipstick and the light brush of eye shadow. “He said he was insulted I wasn’t in pajamas. He said he thought I only rolled out of bed for his class.”
Audrey smiled again. “Isn’t that such a good line?”
“Everything alright?” Anthony said, later, while sliding his dick between her lips. “I like the lipstick, by the way. Are you doing a new one every day?”
“Mmmm,” Jennifer said. She was in no position to judge her step-daughter. Crushing on an older man was her thing. Her friends, at the bridal shower, had gifted her with a cane, a nurse hat, and a package of Depends. She’d worn the nurse’s hat in bed, for some light roleplay. “Mmm. Mhmmmmmm.”
“I’ll assume that means no problem,” Anthony said. She examined his body. Lean, with a strong snow dust on his chest hair. His cock was hardly aged. He’d been creaming more and more into her willing mouth.
“Mm. Mmmmm,” Jennifer said, nodding. She wore a brand new outfit of her own. A parody of a secretarial outfit, including a small tie, lost in her tits, and a light gray skirt that was painted on to her butt. Too bad she didn’t have Audrey’s native rear, although even Jennifer had felt some extra titty sensitivity. “Mmmmmmmm.”
“Baby, been meaning to ask, any particular reason you’re sucking me off so much—ahhh,” Anthony said. Jennifer was braced for it, but his volume still surprised her. So much cum in her mouth. Not unpleasant. Like a fine wine. It mixed well with her newly-spit heavy mouth.
“Mmmm,” Jennifer said, satisfied. She popped off, swirling lavender-scented sperm in her mouth. Age was just a number, high numbers were often better. She giggled, at her own cleverness, and cum dripped off her lips.
“I mean, what does he LIKE?” Jennifer said. The coffee shop was very busy as usual. They sat at an outdoor table, one of the many new ones that trawled up and down the sidewalk.
“Ummmm,” Audrey said, uncertain. “Introduction to Statistical Methods?”
“Uh-huh. And does he sleep at the school? In his tie?” Jennifer examined her step-daughter critically. The poor girl had not the slightest idea what she was doing, trying to attract a man, especially a sophisticated older man. She wore a black baby-doll t-shirt despite the chill, and had stolen another tartan skirt from Step-mom.
It did showcase how very overripe her body was.
Audrey wasn’t up for even mild teasing about her crush. She stood up and stalked off, holding her coffee with both hands. Jennifer watched her go. The poor girl had it bad. She also had the body to draw any winter lion. Audrey was hot.
She’d seen pictures of Audrey’s mom. She hadn’t been THIS chesty, or drawn this much of a wagon. Audrey was stacked. Of course, the thousands of calories they were both slurping every morning had to be partially responsible. The table was wet with pink drool. Some of it was hers.
Abruptly she decided to tail her step-daughter all the way to class. She called out of work to do it. It wasn’t hard to follow Audrey’s enormous ass. It nearly had the sidewalk to itself. Audrey barely seemed to notice the appreciative looks—but they were all from young men, 21 year old nothings without a single patch of distinguished grey. They’d spurt in her face in a moment, Jennifer thought, and felt herself get wet anyway. She could practice on these boys, became even more skilled as a housewife and fellatrix. But—no.
The professor was hot. Audrey had good taste.
“Uh—hello, everyone,” oh yes, he had the voice Jennifer had dreamed of. A hint of world-weariness, a note of empathy. Calm, steely eyes that were adept at handling situations. Audrey sat in the very front row, back forward, eyes earnest. So very far from the hunched, pajama-clad sack. But Jennifer was drawn more to the rest of the row—other co-eds, many of them with their own Pink-infused drinks, or snacking on pink-glazed donuts. There were lots of tits on display, creamy supple skin in a variety of colors. And then Audrey, in her skirt that he couldn’t even see, and her shirt that didn’t show any of her tits.
“Everyone... go shopping recently?” the Professor seemed puzzled, at all the earnest girls, shooting him winsome looks. Audrey didn’t even know how to brighten and preen, when his gaze fell on her.
Step-Mommy vowed to help.
“Skin. Show lots of skin. You are nubile, you are full-figured, you are fighting a WAR for this man,” Jennifer said. She’d done a lot of thinking, while cleaning the entire house. Anthony deserved the very best. She’d had to mop up her own spit, she’d been thinking so hard. Work could wait. She had a lot of vacation saved up. Probably.
“MOM,” Audrey said. But she stayed to listen.
“I saw your competition and I have a plan,” Jennifer said. “Stand up and wobble around. Shake it.”
Audrey did. She seemed startled at her own wobbliness. She had a heart-cute face and a plush-fat body. A big gob of spit escaped her, landing across the room.
“We’re going to ASSUME he wants a MILF body and a co-ed face. Because you go to war with your best weapons. You’re wearing athleisure tomorrow. And I got you one of those Kardashian semi-bras. You’re gonna be the only one with sideboob in that lecture hall.”
“Mom, did you SPY on me?” Audrey seemed increasingly uncomfortable. She wore just her bra and underpants, and they were both fighting a battle of their own. Against lushness. And they were losing. “And—Mom—Jennifer—I’ve—I gained like ten pounds in a week. Its—weird. And have you seen your, um, lips?”
Audrey did have a point.
Jennifer had managed some unease, pursing her own angel bows in the mirror. On the one hand, they were sucking on straws or husband dicks much more often, so some muscle growth was to be expected. On the other hand, DID lips have muscles? And why were they so glossy, all the time?
But she was there for her dau—for her step-daughter. “You need to look proddable. He’s single, he’s male, he’s touch-starved. You need to look like something he can just take huge handfuls of. Big warm handfuls,” Jennifer said. She ran her tongue over her own lips. It felt very good. Audrey reluctantly checked over her own ripe reflection. Drank in it.
“I mean—what am I?” she whispered, at the big-boobed girl staring back at her. She’d lost the bags under her eyes. They glowed, now.
“You’re my Audrey!” Jennifer said, fiercely. It was a nice moment, only a little spoiled when she let a big blurb of pink-colored spit slop onto the floor.
“Kiss it,” Jennifer urged. They were experimenting with fruits, surrounded by packages.
Jennifer had gone a little crazy, buying new clothes. For the both of them. Since all their stuff was getting pink-spotted and spit-soggy, new gear was definitely in order. Especially since nothing of Audrey’s fit anymore. Even her pajama pants.
She’d put them on during one of her periodic regressions, where she had a brief panic about the fact her butt was adding heft and inches, about how her hair had grown an inch in a week and a half. When she found old pictures of herself, staring dully at her own camera, for a detached selfie somewhere on social media. The pajama pants had turned into tights, her step-daughter’s butt filling them to bursting.
They soothed themselves with Pink. Lots of Pink... When one got nervous the other girl would calm her down. They had each other. It would be fine. They were just being cute and hot.
“Mmmmm this is stupid mmmmmm,” Audrey said, making out with an orange.
They were spending so much time together. It was, Jennifer decided, making her into a better step-mom. She had extended her work vacation. Anthony made more than enough, anyway, and there was just so much self—, home—, and step-daughter improvement to be done.
“It’s okay to be inexperienced. He wants you inexperienced. A little nervous. Virginal. That’s good. Just be enthusiastic.”
“It’s all citrus-y,” Audrey said, making a face. She’d left lipstick marks on the orange. “Jennifer, come onnnnn. We should... ummm...”
Jennifer had learned to plow through those frequent hesitations from her step-daughter. And, just like in her dreams, Audrey always gave way. She was inexperienced, after all. “If you can make out with an orange, you can handle a man. You can handle his beard. The only real difference is the tongue.”
“Oh my god. Why are we being such... sluts?” but she kept going. Audrey closed her eyes, presumably imagining her citrus with a grey-flecked beard. Jennifer sorted through packages. Since they’d both acquired odd and worrying issues with spit-heavy mouths, and were both sweating like crazy, she’d plumped for nylon and other synthetics. And a little bit of leather, for Anthony’s enjoyment. They both liked the smell..
“Next we’ll move on to grapefruits. And kiwis,” Jennifer said. “And tomorrow, remember what we talked about. Cross and uncross those legs, and remember to drop your pencil. In THIS skirt.” She yanked it out.
“MOM!” Audrey was horrified, again. It was a bare six or seven inches and would never cover her entire ass. Lately it would take yards of material to completely wrap her rear up. And the skirt was a bright yellow polyester fabric. It was very attention-getting, but it would match well with pink.
Jennifer felt a wonderful warm pulse, at the name. Mom. She felt a lot of wonderful warm pulses, recently. Often in her mouth, from Anthony. But this one was still... special.
“Jennifer?” Anthony called out, from downstairs. Home even earlier. He was very nearly working from home full time, now that she’d made it such a happy household. Now her pussy was really pounding. Jennifer let her hand trail down to her own too-short skirt, and tug up the waistband of her panties. It pushed pleasantly into her slit. Audrey, she realized, was staring right between her legs. To where she was visibly wet.
“I can—umm—I can hear you two, you know. Going at it,” Audrey said. She straightened. “Jennifer, I think—I was—I was—thinking—all this Pink stuff—we’re getting so thick...“
“Thinking,” Jennifer said, rolling her eyes. No, it was nowhere in any of her life goals, thinking thoughts. Delivering a high-level class-A blowjob meant no thoughts at all. “Keep practicing, baby. And your makeup and your stride.”
“I have homework!” Audrey said, hapless. She dropped her worked-over orange, and slumped back into her bean bag chair. Her step-mom sashayed smoothly out of the room. Jennifer favored baby blue skirts, the same length as Audrey’s. She’d tried so hard to bring up her worries. Her tits had swollen two cup sizes, and she was reliably squirting whenever she came. It had to be the pink stuff. Why couldn’t she—say anything? Her tongue was too thick to get the words out. Words themselves were coming so slow...
It was very easy to hear the noise of one of Jennifer’s sloppy blowjobs. They hadn’t even gotten back to their bedroom.
Audrey groaned, and then opened her phone to her Professor Pics album. Her hand, with her new pink-tipped nails, flew between her legs.
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, yes, job, business, I hear the things you’re saying. Um. All the words,” Jennifer said.
This was an important meeting about her future at the firm, but she was having a very hard time paying attention. Lately Jennifer was having a hard time paying attention to anything. She and Anthony still watched prestige TV, where people did a lot of talking while looking very serious, and her attention level had plummeted through the floor. She spent most of the shows either watching makeup videos on her phone, or idly playing with Anthony’s cock. Or not idly playing.
“Oh, Derek, hold on just a second. Just a seeeeecond, okay?” She was just outside the classroom, watching through a window. Audrey had nerved herself up for the pencil routine. She was in four-inch heels for the first time in her life. Dark red ones. They’d stuck to the ‘incipient MILF’ theme with a dark leather pencil skirt and button-up top. Class was almost over, and Jennifer had gotten increasingly nervous her step-daughter would lose her nerve. The front row was a row of female baubles, each in bright outfits, tits zipped in and otherwise displayed to the frazzled professor.
“Oooh, she’s doing it, she’s doing it!” Jennifer said, to her colleague. She was so happy. Audrey dropped the pencil, put her feet together, and bent. Jennifer couldn’t see her butt, but she could see the Professor’s expression. He looked like he’d been struck by a big rig. Fair enough, that was what Audrey’s ass most resembled. It surprised her, sometimes, that Audrey could walk around with it. It was too much butt for one girl to tote.
“Doing WHAT?” her boss yelled. “Jennifer, just say you’re sick, if you’re sick. Say you’re sick so I don’t have to fire you.”
“Oh, oh!” Jennifer squealed, delighted. The funny thing was, Audrey couldn’t reach the pencil. She was so much tit and ass that, including her heels, she couldn’t reach. She was very close to toppling over, a construction disaster of her own overlush curves. Finally she straightened up, itself a minor miracle of cantilevering, and in total defiance of her own physics. Her face was flushed bright red, possibly from blood flow.
“OhmyGAWD!” Jennifer said. “He must’ve seen pussy. She was SO embarrassed when I made her shave down. She was all like, Mom, um, Jennifer, um, Mom, isn’t it weird you’re telling me to shave my twat, and—hello?”
Derek had hung up. Jennifer shrugged it off. Funny thing, she hadn’t had a single dream about work, not a single one. She HAD had a dream that Anthony had dribbled some cum, somewhere in the house, and she’d cleaned every floor with her tongue. Plenty of spit for it.
Audrey had covered her ears, when Jennifer had related the fantasy. But she’d listened anyway.
“Can we just do—something normal?” Audrey said, pleading.
“I mean, honey, we’re doing our nails and makeup, this is normal girl stuff,” Jennifer pointed out. “This is like super normal girl activity. I know you were moping it up but we’re making up for lost time.”
“No—I—why is everything so.. HOT...” Audrey fidgeted and drooled. Girl’s night was pretty sloppy. Anthony was out of town, which meant that Jennifer was feeling mighty randy. Drinking an extra jug of Pink coffee after lunch hadn’t done anything to calm her libido. “I mean, I just want to do something... old. And not... I mean, Jennifer, you have your boobs out.”
“They’re very warm tonight,” Jennifer said. “And yours are what, ninety percent out?”
“They’re always ninety percent out,” Audrey said, poking at them. They escaped all containers. If sideboob was shut off, they went to underboob. They created more cleavage than a storied sword.
“Do you.. want to find some old pajamas?” Jennifer scoffed. “That still fit? And listen to—what did you listen to? Its not The Cure, is it? I don’t know what depressed teens listen to now.”
“It’s actually pop music. Its weird. But—no. I don’t want that. I don’t want to be tits-out with my step-mom. I want... I want...” She ran out of breath, nervous.
“It’s okay to want what you want,” Jennifer said, quietly. She tried to control herself. This wasn’t just step-mom dress up time. She needed to—right, what was she doing? She needed to LISTEN. She really needed to listen to her step-daughter, and not just insist she go make sure her cunt was nice and shaved.
“I’m not just some horny dumb slut trying to get fucked by her way-too-old professor,” Audrey said, without conviction. “Who wants that? Like, what kind of person is that?”
“It’s okay if it’s a YOU person! Its better than just being dark and sad!” Jennifer said. She’d gone too far. Her step-daughter was sullen again, finally, after emerging from her shell into a bright being of promise and fantastic tits. She looked around. Once again she’d have to mop, after one of these daughter-mommy sessions. They were such juicy girls.
“Lets—” she felt a tinge of nostalgia, a hint of unease. Why WERE they lounging around in too-tight lingerie, trying on new nail polishes? Even the scent of acetone couldn’t cut the thick lavender scent. Had she—had she really quit her job, so she could watch her step-daughter wag her ass at an inappropriate man?
She fought to hold on to a fading sense of normalcy. What had she always wanted to do..? It was fading so fast... She was into blowjobs and dress up now, and wasn’t that okay...?
“Oh! Stepmom! Lets watch Stepmom! I always thought we should watch Stepmom together!”
She brought her phone out, excited. This had been on the to-do list for so long. It was only when she’d fired it up, and put her arm around Audrey, that she recalled that the very last thing she’d been watching was a video of a girl giving a very extended blowjob to a gray eminence. A cold silver-haired fox, his enormous dick defiantly youthful, and filling a slut’s mouth to bursting.
It popped on screen.
“Ooooh, right,” Jennifer said. It was amazing how much the girl fit down her throat. Although Jennifer herself was getting better. “Don’t look. You’re... too young or something.”
“Uh,” Audrey said, staring at it.
“I should change it. We’ll watch Step-Mom. Although it is a bummer movie. There’s no cum in it at all.”
“Uhhh,” Audrey said.
Slowly, with clear hesitation, her step-daughter raised her own hand, chose three of her fingers, and put them on the top of her lips. They watched the blowjob scene together. It went on and on, with no camera cuts. But there was a plot—sometimes the man thrust into her mouth, treating her like a sleeve. Sometimes the girl actively licked and sucked.
“Unnnnnhhhh,” Audrey said, at last.
She slipped the fingers inside her mouth.
This was another teaching moment, Jennifer could tell. Mostly from the way her step-daughter’s legs fell apart, and the way she leaned back against Jennifer, nestling between her tits. They weren’t as big as Audrey’s, but they were big, and getting bigger. Anthony had taken to unloading in them, to watch the funnel.
“Easy, easy,” Jennifer counseled. “Little licks, to start. Blowjobs are about so much more than being a vacuum. Although that’s a big part of it. Let him watch you, stroke your hair, enjoy you. He’s not in a hurry for a blowjob to end.”
Audrey withdrew her fingers to moan, quickly. “I’m such a SLUT, Mom! We’re both such big fuckin’ sluts!”
She popped the fingers back in.
“Uh-huh,” Jennifer said. This felt—right? No, it had to be wrong, but.. they were happy. They were a family. They were both so fuckable, and even more so together. She stroked Audrey’s thighs. A dribble of fluid leaked onto the floor. More mess to wipe up, and, lately, it seemed almost pink, under the track lighting. “Now. You cup his balls. VERY gently. Really just so he feels the heat of your hand, you know? That’s when you start to suck about halfway. Very good, Audrey. Very good!”
She felt her step-daughter start to twitch and shudder and spasm. Audrey actually knocked herself out, cumming, and so hard that she still had her fingers in her mouth. She’d added her thumb, at some point. Jennifer just let her rest there, sticky and wet, and basked in the glow. Mom. She really was just... Mom. Just for that, she was going to treat herself to a new vibrator. One of the neat remote ones, that Anthony could control.
It was a very big day, and Jennifer wanted everything to be perfect.
She woke Anthony up with his usual good-morning blowjob. He had expressed some concerns about her losing her job, and becoming so relentlessly focused on house, home, and dick. Jennifer had responded by doubling her already-considerable efforts, waking up at 5 and quietly tip-toeing out of bed, not to wake him. And by the time her tongue started to gently lap, the world’s best alarm clock, she’d already showered, changed, and done an initial cleaning sweep of the house. And dressed, of course, in a tartan skirt with white tube top. Her hair up in complicated pigtails.
He was in the mood to shove her head down. Jennifer’s pussy tingled. A lot of the complaints had stopped, now that Anthony was joining them for family time at the coffee shop. It was a little embarrassing for Audrey, hanging out with her parents, watching Jennifer huff and pant with a vibrator in her panties. But Anthony really liked the coffee.
“I’m going after the Thompson Account today,” he said, stroking her hair, while using firm but unyielding pressure. “I’m gonna invite Thompson over.”
That was all he needed to say. She’d take care of the planning, the cooking, the dinner party, and, if necessary, sucking off Thompson. Anthony said he’d never felt more motivated, more youthful.
Something in the caffeine.
Jennifer had mixed opinions about the younger part. But she was enjoying just how thick and rich his cum was, lately.
After that she checked in with her step-daughter. Audrey was watching one last cocksucker video. Jennifer had gotten her a practice dick, a lifelike eight-incher to feed down her throat. She could fit the entire silicone chunk in there. She liked it in there. Audrey had already gotten dressed—identical plaid, identical pigtails. She withdrew the fake dick from her throat with a wet plop. Her desk was wet with drool.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this, Mom,” she said, excited. Visibly so. She wasn’t wearing panties. All the little whining about we’re-such-whores had stopped, thankfully. Jennifer chalked it up to residual brattiness. This Audrey just smiled and smiled.
“Dreams are coming true today!” Jennifer said. Impulsively she gave Audrey a wet kiss on the lips. Still a little cummy, true, but who cared? Anthony had even let her watch Daddy cum in Jennifer’s mouth. For instructional purposes. They were growing so close as a family.
“I mean, someone’s cumming,” Audrey said, and giggled.
Office hours weren’t until ten, so they whiled away an hour at the coffee shop. There was a new juice bar going in, too, just two doors down. It already smelled like lavender.
They ambled to campus, taking up the entire sidewalk. They even held hands. Little droplets trickled down their legs, and onto the pavement. They were far from the only ones, Jennifer noticed. Everyone was so juicy lately. And so many big smiles. Including her own.
At 9:30 she deposited Audrey outside the Professor’s door. A second girl, wearing volleyball shorts and three coats of lipstick, was just a little late to be first in line. She pouted, prettily. Jennifer coated her Audrey’s lips with their special pink shade, and tugged down her tubetop, and tugged up her skirt.
“You look like a desperate tart,” she reported.
“I could NOT have done it without you,” Audrey whispered.
They kissed goodbye, with a little tongue.
And then back home, to where Anthony was waiting for his second suck off of the day. Jennifer made it with moments to spare, throwing herself under his desk at ten-oh-five. Busy on a work call, he barely acknowledged her, although his balls were already pumping. He rarely wore underpants. He said his balls felt bigger. They did feel heavier in Jennifer’s mouth.
She started a very slow lick routine, and waited.
Audrey had promised—and there it was. A buzz in the remote vibrator Jennifer wore. The signal that it was going well, that Audrey was living her best life, and was settling in on her knees to a future of sucking off a delightful and distinguished man’s dick. Girl number two would just have to wait patiently, for her turn at office hours.
The vibrator thrummed against her clit. Somewhere out there, Audrey was getting her makeup-caked face fucked. Jennifer carefully stuck her mouth down to the very base. She felt so perfectly connected. She had a family.
Pink pussy juice leaked onto her nice clean floor.