She sat in her stockings and garters and watched while the girl dressed. When Mitzi had her bra and panties on and pulled the shapeless slip on over her head, Rita could remain silent no longer.
"That slip is too long for your dress, Mitzi. Would you like for me to baste a new hem?"
"Oh thanks, Rita, but it isn't mine. It belongs my Aunt Doris."
"I don't understand. Doesn't your mother buy your clothes?"
Mitzi bit her lower lip. "Mom and Dad, they broke up a long time ago. Dad disappeared and I lived with Mom until she ran off with a man. Now I just… sorta bounce around. I live with my aunt… sometimes. She's good to me, except when she's been drinking. Sometimes she lets me wear her clothes. Other times… well, I still have my jeans and blouse."
Rita was silent and blinked back tears while she shortened the slip with paper clips all around. When Mitzi put on the borrowed dress, she helped her tuck the excess material in back so it followed the nice curves of her body.
When Mitzi thanked her and turned to leave, Rita stopped her. She pressed the bottle of lotion and a small pill bottle in her hands.
"Use this lotion on your body every night. Take one of these tablets every day, and it'll keep you from getting pregnant. When either of these runs out, just tell me."
There were tears in the girl's eyes when she bent and kissed her. Then she was leaving, clumping awkwardly in high-heeled shoes that were too big for her.
Rita looked down and fingered the sticky lips of her cunt. She stripped off her stockings and unfastened the hooks on her garter belt. Time for a hot shower.
Tommy would be home before long.
CHAPTER THREE
Tommy was fresh scrubbed from the shower at the gym when he came in.
"Well, how was the game, honey?" Rita asked.
"They beat us," he said, "but we made 'em fight for it."
"That's the spirit. Feeling tired?"
He started to nod. Then he smiled.
"All depends. Long as it isn't basketball…"
"Remember the fireplace in my bedroom?"
He nodded.
"Why don't you get a nice fire started?"
He smiled and said, "You got it, Mom."
Firelight soon flickered across the room, aiding the lone small table lamp. When Rita sauntered in, the ridiculous blue bedroom slippers with high heels made her hips roll like a schoolgirl's. She joined Tommy, sitting on the deep-pile carpet in front of the flame.
"You're a first-class fire builder," she said.
"Nothing's too good for my mom," he said, lying back.
"Sometimes I wonder if your old mom's still got what it takes."
"I never had any doubt."
"Tommy, you're not giving me a line of bullshit, are you?" she asked, lying back beside him.
"I couldn't lie to you, Mom."
"Well, examine the merchandise one more time and tell me I'm still all right."
He got up on his knees and untied the sash on her dressing gown. Heat from the fire warmed her naked skin as he peeled the robe away. She felt as if she were back in Jack's arms, in an age long ago, determined to be pleasing to the man she loved.
With her gown drawn open, Tommy put an arm under her shoulders and worked the garment down off her arms. He let her down to the rug and then lifted her ass with one strong arm and pulled the robe aside. He stood up, quickly stripped off his pajamas, and then rejoined her on the rug.
His hands were warmer than the heat from the fireplace on her tits as he squeezed them, firmly but not so hard it hurt. He put his lips against hers and kissed her. There was gentleness in his touch but the strength that Mitzi lacked.
His lips moved down on her neck to her tits, where he kissed each nipple, turning them hard, then down across the swell of her belly to her pussy-mound. He nibbled at her short cunt-hair, then looked at her cunt closely.
"I thought blonde genes were supposed to be dominant," he said.
"Well, I guess so… in a statistical sense. Why?"
"You're a real blonde… either that or you've been using the two-bottle peroxide kit. No, your eyes are so blue, you've gotta be a blonde. Dad's hair was dark brown. So's mine. Is that what you meant by statistics? Odds are for it, but no guarantees?"
"I think so," she said. "Satisfied I'm a real blonde?"
"Yeah, with your pink skin and blue eyes, you're a blonde, all right." He patted her pussy, looking at her lovely body.
"I try to flex my body, and it just doesn't work like it did once."
He patted the soft flesh of her hip. "You're a half-pint, but lots of young girls would like to look like you. What doesn't flex?"
"My hips. When I was a teenager and I used to… well, never mind what I did then. I used to be able to bend my legs like pretzels."
"Well, let's see," he said, grasping one stockinged thigh just above her knee.
He brought her thigh straight up and then bent it out to the side. It went down easily until the knee was a foot above the rug, then down another six inches… and stopped. Holding that leg in place, he did the same with the other.
"I'd say that isn't bad, Mom," he said. "You sure look nice with your cunt spread like that."
"I used to be able to bring my legs straight out and down flat… and even farther than that. You'd like my cunt spread out that way."
"Does it hurt, the way I'm holding your legs out now?"
"No, it's just tight in my hips."
"Like for me to see if I can loosen you up a little?"
"I'd love it."
After a time, he had her thighs straight out and down flat on the rug. He took his hands away, and her legs stayed down.
"How's that, Mom?"
"That's nice of you, Tommy," she said. "Like to take it a little farther?"
"Okay, but I'm afraid I'll break you apart."
"Promise I'll shout if it starts hurting."
Tommy grabbed three pillows from the bed. After stacking them, he slipped a hand under her ass, raising her, and put the stack of pillows under her. Balanced on the soft support, her thighs remained straight out and about a foot above the rug.
As before, he held one leg and worked the other around and around, all the time pressing the thigh down. When both knees were within a couple of inches of the rug, her hips started hurting. She kept silent, taking care to not gasp in pain, while he worked her legs still lower.
Finally, both knees touched the rug. When he stopped forcing her farther open, the pain went away. With her back arched and her shoulders down on the rug, the swell of her belly hid her spread-open cunt from her view.
"Honey, can you tip the mirror? I want to see myself, right into my cunt."
When he'd tipped the big mirror, she could see right into her cunt. The outer cunt-lips were spread wide, and the pink fuck-hole was barely open.
"That's great, honey. Now pull the pillows out."
When he'd pulled the stack of pillows aside, she was left with her back arched, her cunt held high, and her weight balanced on her shoulders and on the sides of her outward-splayed knees. She let her ass down to the rug, and her fuck-hole closed. Then she pressed the sides of her knees down and levered her ass up, bringing her cunt high, spreading the cunt-lips wide. She let her ass back down. Then she tensed and, like a wave, made her body ripple out and up, through her neck, through her back, through her belly, through her hips, undulating her body. After holding her spread pussy high for a moment, she let her body sink back to the rug.
"Mom, what did you do when you were a teenager?" Tommy asked.
"Well, there were six of us girls in our group. At the end of each football game, our group had a contest to see which one of us could brace her knees straight out like this and hold her cunt up the highest. The winner got to date the football captain. I usually won."
"Mom!"
"Now I'm not a kid any longer," she said.