Edger Wilson
Sex cruise
Chapter 1
Sunday mornings were usually slow and easy in the shady patio of the Spicer family's suburban home. Today was different. Jerri, the eldest daughter, was home fresh from her first year of college. And as far as her mother was concerned, the girl had acquired a few new habits that were far too wild.
"But Mom," she argued, "you don't understand. It's not a matter of trying to show off how Pm built or anything. It's just the style now. There isn't a girl in my class that wears a bra anymore. And besides, it's more natural.”
Jane Spicer looked across the breezeway to where Jerri sat with her long legs draped carelessly over the arm of the lawn chair. The front of her thin cotton tee-shirt sheathed her breasts so tightly it was quite obvious there was no brassiere underneath. Her nipples were outlined so distinctly it was ridiculous.
"Now Jerri, you know I've never been downright prudish. You have to admit I've never been as hard on you girls about things like that as some mothers. But really, dear, you might as well be naked as to let yourself flop around like that.”
"Flop around?” cried Jerri. "Mom, I do, not 'flop around.’ I won't have to worry about that for a few years.”
Her tone was icy and Jane knew that she had piqued the justifiable pride Jerri had about her firm young shape. She smiled and conceded her exaggeration.
"Okay," she relented, "I won't nag you about it. You're nineteen now. I guess you're old enough to make your own decisions about something that personal. I just hope Karen and Kathie don't get any bright ideas about it from seeing you around the house and want to do the same thing. You know how impressionable they are at their age. And you know how they both look up to their ‘big sis' as being somebody pretty special.”
Jerri laughed and, swung her legs off the chair. Her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back as she straightened her back.
"Are you kidding?" she chortled. "Neither one of them is old enough to worry whether to wear a bra or not. Gosh, Mom, Karen's only thirteen and Kathie's just ten. What makes you think they give a darn whether I wear a bra or not?”
"But it's the idea of the thing, Jerri," said Jane. "And for your information, Karen started wearing a training bra right after you left for school last fall and she's already moved up to the next size. If you hadn't been in such a hurry to leave on your date last night when you got here from school, you'd have noticed how much she's grown since you've been away.”
Jerri sat down by her mother. "You know, Mom, you really ought to quit wearing bras yourself. The way you're built, you don't look like you need one. Nobody'd ever guess you're thirty-seven. And you know how everybody's always asking if we're sisters. Not one of my friends at school has a mom as young-looking as you.”
Jane beamed under her daughter's praise. She couldn't help being proud of the fact that at her age she was youthful-looking enough to elicit such a comment from Jerri. She told her that she'd gone along with mini skirts, boots, and most other fashions, but that going without a bra was too far. Jane knew full well that her large, firmly fleshed breasts were as attractive as those of women several years younger but she was so accustomed to wearing a brassiere it was too late for her to change. Or so she thought, at the time.
Jerri asked when she had last gone out with anyone. She knew her mother was a very good-looking woman and hated to see her sitting around the house pining for something to do.
"How can you even think such a thing," Jane answered, a little abruptly. "You know your daddy's not been gone a year yet. It wouldn't be right for me to be running around so soon.”
Jerri said it wasn't the medieval ages anymore and no one expected a woman to be so strict on herself nowadays. It was what her father would have wanted, anyway, she told her mother. There wasn't a thing in the world wrong with her beginning to start a new social life for herself.
Jane didn't answer right away and Jerri knew she had at least made her think. But just then Karen and Kathie came running out to ask if they could go play in the park. After being granted permission, they tore out the door and hopped on their bicycles. Jerri noticed, as Karen dashed past her, that her mother had been right about her growing a lot. The young teenager's budding breasts were definitely beyond the stage where hers had been when she was thirteen. The kid was going to have an awfully nice pair of tits when she grew up, Jerri mused. It made her wonder whether Karen's interest in boys was as developed as her breasts were.
Jane busied herself in the kitchen and left Jerri alone in the patio. She couldn't help thinking about what her daughter had said. Was it possible that she was being old-fashioned about avoiding men now that her husband had died? A flush of color passed through her face. It was more than just his presence she missed now that he was gone-it was something far more specific, whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not. The thing she missed more and more as the days went on was the touch of a man's hands on the nakedness of her body. She had taken his love for granted for so many years that she now found herself aching for it. Alone at night in her bed, with the covers over her lush, curvaceous body, she was becoming downright hungry for a man's love. And there had been dreams so stimulating to her that she was ashamed even to recall them, much less to dwell on them in any detail. At first Jane's late husband had figured in the dreams, but after a few months other men began to appear there… invariably in the role of lover. There had been the one about the faceless, hard-muscled man who stripped her nightgown off and stood staring down at her nakedness with his hardened organ jutting from the fly of his pants before-
A saucer slipped from Jane's hands where she was washing dishes and crashed to the tile floor. She kneeled, muttering, and picked up the pieces. She really must keep her mind from wandering back to such scenes.
The noise of the dishwasher kept her from hearing the knock of Jerri's boyfriend on the back door. When he caught sight of Jane on her knees he quit knocking and just stared. Rodney had been informed by Jerri that her mother happened to be an especially good-looking woman, but he hadn't expected anything like this!
Jane's back was to the door and he had a clear view up the back of her short skirt. She had dressed with typical Sunday-morning informality and wasn't even wearing stockings or panty hose. Rodney could see the naked flesh of her firm legs all the way up her thighs to a point that had to be only a few inches below her panties, he thought. Wow! Maybe if he cooled it for a few minutes and she stayed on her knees long enough…
Her motions as she swept up the last few bits of glass turned her body sideways, depriving him of any further view up her legs. Her new side angle, however, provided more than he had anticipated. Just as he was frowning at the disappearance of her naked legs, her torso shifted into view and he was treated to a quick but satisfying shot of a plump breast. No wonder Jerri had such fine tits, he thought. Any daughter of a mother with jugs on her like that would have to be pretty well endowed. The most striking difference between the two was their hair. Although Jerri's long hair was black as coal, the woman on her knees had tresses of a dark blonde color. He realized she might turn around at any moment arid see him gawking so he started knocking again.
This time she heard him and jerked her head up in surprise. She wiped her wet hands on her apron and started to let him in, but Jerri sailed into the kitchen and beat her to the door. Jane thought the dark-haired boy seemed more than a little nervous when Jerri introduced him but she had no idea it was because he had been sneakily looking up her skirt and inside her carelessly buttoned blouse while she was on the floor.
She followed Jerri back to her room while she quickly changed clothes and asked for more details. Rodney was twenty-one, a junior at her college, a member of the track team, and was from a town in Indiana, she learned. She watched while her daughter snapped the waistband of her panty hose, testing the fit, and stepped into a little dress that covered far less skin than Jane wished. True, it was summer. But this flimsy little one-piece dress looked as if it would blow right off her body in the first gust of breeze. A look at the firm, willowy curves of Jerri's body convinced her that the girl was getting more and more womanly every day. All of her daughters were good-looking girls, but Jerri, being the eldest, naturally sported a body that most resembled Jane's. And Jane knew well the feelings that could be aroused from such a body-even if it had been ages since she herself had had it happen. She knew better than to warn Jerri to be careful on her date. She had done that all through high school but now the girl was too old to stand for such comments.