In the middle of starting some seeds for broccoli and kale,the doorbell rang. I wiped the dirt from my hands. When I opened the door, Ashley stopped fiddling with her phone and smiled. I invited her in and closed the door.

“My mom wants to invite you over for dinner tomorrow,” she said immediately. We stood in the foyer. “You don’t have to bring anything.”

Odd. Her mother and I weren’t especially close. Our kids were both juniors at the high school and we’d worked on one Christmas event together and that’s about it.

“Just Chad and me?” I asked. “Jason is out of town.”

Ashley looked down and in that quiet soprano said, “I know. He went to Los Angeles.”

“You can take off your jacket,” I offered. “Do you want a Coke? Let’s sit in the kitchen.”

“No, thanks, Mrs. Shepherd,” she said. She unzipped her jacket, but didn’t move. “I really can’t stay.”

Taking a step forward, she reached out and touched my sweatshirt, her fingertips grazing my nipple. I’ve never know a sixteen year old who was so forward with an older person. Uncooperative, yes, but forward, no.

“My mom said she’d like you to bring Chad. I’m OK with that.”

She stroked my boob and looked up at me. Her voice had become so quiet that I cocked my head to hear her better.

“Mom says you should dress like you were going to have sex with me again.”

What? I couldn’t have heard that right.

“You told her about what we did?” I asked. A week and a half ago we’d enjoyed some awesome sex together, for the first and only time. This was probably not model behavior by an adult.

“Yes. She’s not mad or anything. I think she means just be casual. She talks weird sometimes.”

“Did you mention Chad was, uh, there?” I asked. Ashley had watched my son fuck me.

“Well, yes, I tell my mother everything. But she would never be mad about just sex.” Ashley pushed her breasts out, almost defiantly. “Chad and I are sixteen. You can get married at sixteen, you know.”

Technically true, I guess, with parental consent. I pulled her close and kissed her on the mouth. A surge of lust made me hold her tighter. Our boobs pressed together and my hands slid down to her butt.

“I really can’t stay, Mrs. Shepherd. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow? I want you to come. It’ll be fun!”

I agreed to show up around six. After I closed the door behind her, thoughtful, I kneaded the nipple Ashley had rubbed.

That night, before getting into bed, I angled the blinds so the neighbors could see in. Our homes were only separated by their wide driveway and three feet of lawn. I did this most evenings when my husband wasn’t home (and the moon wasn’t too bright). I knew they watched me sometimes, ignored me others, and many nights I had no idea if they were even home. Tonight was like that. Their vertical blinds were open, but the room was dark.

I enjoyed masturbating, but I found it a lonely pursuit. I became the tree falling in the forest, with no one to hear my orgasm or share my pleasure. On the nights I glimpsed Rachel or her husband peering down, I acted for them, positioning myself so they could see my hands on myself. I hoped to excite them. Being watched thrilled me.

Twice this past year, when he must have been home alone, her husband climbed up on something, probably their bed, set back a few feet from their window. He stripped off his clothes and we masturbated together. I watched him come, pleased he found me desirable, happy to help him get off. After he waved goodnight or thank you or whatever with the hand he’d been using, he closed their blinds. I hoped he had a towel down or something for his come to land on. Rachel never did anything like this. I never even saw her naked. But I knew she also watched.

What could Ashley’s mom have meant about dressing like I would have sex with her daughter again? Dinner must be a ploy. I hoped there would be no yelling. She probably didn’t care about me fucking my son, but what must she think? How would I feel if she had sex with Chad? It would be different for a daughter, anyway, I was pretty sure.

The house was still warm, although having just turned down the thermostat, it wouldn’t stay that way. Completely naked except for socks to keep my feet warm, I lay on the bottom sheet, the other covers pulled aside. My six inch dildo rested nearby, a thick, permanent erection. I didn’t feel up to the eight inch one tonight. The door to the room was ajar, but Chad seldom came out of his room this late.

When you will get home, Rachel or your husband whose name I don’t know?

My fingers brushed my nipples. I almost always started this way. Tonight, I immediately recalled Ashley’s fingers there. With my eyes closed, I imagined watching her naked and stroking my breasts. My hands moved mostly without conscious thought. Those hands I felt gliding toward my pussy belonged to the blonde Ashley with the soft voice I pictured in my mind. I saw her wide eyes were inches from mine and her bare breasts.

Fingers pressed my pussy, not yet touching my clitty. I thought about Ashley’s naked body, her mouth on my mouth. I rubbed myself a little faster. Her breasts brushed mine. Masturbating, for me anyway, is almost like dreaming, where images and memories shift quickly. I can picture Ashley’s tongue in my ear and an instant later it’s inside my cunt and suddenly it’s in my mouth and it all makes sense. I recalled the leathery smell of her hair and the peachy taste of her cunt, the puffy ends of her breasts near the back of my throat and her lips against mine. I opened my eyes to find the dildo. A condom was already out of its package.

The lights were on in their bedroom. I saw someone moving around. It really didn’t matter whether it was Rachel or her husband, although I did prefer just one watcher, not both together. Let the games begin.

I sat up, careful not to look at their window. I’d concluded that when they knew that I knew that they both were watching, they felt obliged to close their blinds. Did that make sense? This “rule” seemed less consistent if there was just one watcher. So long as I didn’t seem to notice them, they would continue to watch. Her husband didn’t seem to mind if I knew he was watching. Maybe I was completely wrong, but it mostly seemed to work. I didn’t want to risk losing my watchers.

Eyes down and focused on the dildo, I pulled the condom over it and applied the lubricant. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rachel’s husband at the dresser near their window. He was pretending to go slowly through a drawer, but I could tell he was watching me. No one takes that long to find a pair of socks.

I lay back with my head raised on a pillow and eased the silicone cock into my cunt. My eyes were closed, but now I imagined my watcher touching himself and staring out his window. I fucked myself slowly. The dildo was a little thicker than my son’s cock.

My other hand rubbed my clitty. The dildo slid faster. God, I already wanted to come.

I wanted Mr. Rachel to come, too. I got on to my knees, faced the other way and aimed my ass at the window. Reaching between my legs, I fucked myself doggie style. I wasn’t able to use my other hand, but I could peek through my legs at my watcher. He stood right at the window and his arm was moving like he was masturbating, but I couldn’t be sure. I chose to assume that he was jacking off. I enjoyed him enjoying me. Come on my ass, Mr. Rachel, I thought, you know you want to. You’re thinking this dildo is your cock in my cunt, aren’t you. Would you rather come inside me?

After two minutes of peeking at him peering at me, the warm tension building inside, I couldn’t wait any longer. I rolled on to my back and pumped the dildo rapidly. I rubbed myself furiously, fingers together sliding back and forth across my clitty. I didn’t dare look, in case Rachel was there, but I imagined him about to come. Come inside me. Now! My orgasm grabbed me. My legs clenched together. I hoped he was coming, spurting high enough to hit the glass of his window. I jerked again, finished, and eased out the dildo. I lay quietly for a minute.

I edged a look toward the window. The blinds had been closed, but the lights were still on. Did he stay to the finish? Did he come? I took the condom off the dildo, but left the whole mess on the sheet. I fell asleep quickly.

The next day, Saturday, at five after six, I knocked on the door to Ashley’s house. There weren’t any police cruisers outside, so my optimism that I’d survive the night went up a notch.

Under my coat, I wore a dark blue patterned tunic dress with V-neck. A gold chain belt and small gold earrings. The only real concession I’d made to dressing “to have sex with Ashley again” was a silk thong instead of cotton panties. Chad simply wore a plaid shirt and jeans. I’d brought a bottle of wine. I didn’t know if they had any and I expected I’d need it to relax.

“Smells like good home cooking,” I said when Susan, Ashley’s mom, let us in.

“Baked salmon. I hope you like fish.”

I mostly don’t like fish, but this salmon was excellent. It went reasonably well with the Chardonnay I’d brought. Susan’s husband, Dominic, had opened a Pinot Noir. I kept my mouth shut about only white wine with fish, didn’t everybody know that, and was glad I did. His wine went better with this salmon than mine.

The group did the dishes. The adults topped off their wine and carried their glasses with them to the living room. Ashley sat close to her dad on the loveseat, which faced the fireplace. On the sofa, at right angles to the loveseat and facing the TV on the distant wall, I sat closest to Dominic, while Susan sat at the other end. Chad squirmed between us. The TV was off and the gas fireplace was on. A single speaker produced bluegrass music.

Dominic held up an iPad and said, “If you’re up for it, I thought we might play some Truth or Dare/Double Dare, get to know each other better. Sound OK?”

Why not? I agreed and Chad shrugged an acknowledgement.

“This iPad has an app we like to use. We set it to a rating level, like G or R or X, and enter our names and sex. It does the rest.”

Susan said, “Since Diane and the kids are already, um, well-acquainted, let’s go with X. OK, everyone?”

I felt a little shiver, but said, “Sounds good. Who’s first?”

Dominic replied, “The app chooses everything.” What he didn’t say, what I didn’t learn until the next day, was that the app had been rigged to lead Chad and me down a pre-determined path.

He entered the data about us and showed us a screen, which simply offered two buttons, “TURNS” and “RANDOM”.

“I’m going to choose random, so you might get hit twice in a row or not for a while. Here we go.”

The screen says, “Everyone remove shoes, socks, hats, coats, gloves.”

Everyone did as they were told and Dominic tapped the screen.

“Susan. Dare. Flip a coin five times. Every time ‘heads’ comes up, you must take off an item of clothing. Jewelry doesn’t count.” Dom added, “The app does the flipping.”

He held out the iPad so we could see the image of a coin turning on the screen. It came down tails. This got boo’s from Ashley and her dad, so I joined in. Susan did a two second dance with arms and elbows.

Tap. Flip. “Heads!”

Muffled cheers as Susan stood. She pulled her blouse out of her jeans, reached back with both hands, messed with her straps and pulled her bra off from under her top.

“Hey,” I said, “I think we have a pro here. I wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“Heads!”

Susan pulled off her jeans.

“Tails!” Groans from all except Susan. Even Chad seemed disappointed.

“Heads!”

“Fat lot of good the bra trick did me,” Susan laughed. She removed her blouse and twirled in place, now dressed only in cotton panties. Her breasts were slightly larger than mine, with just a hint of Ashley’s puffy nipples. She had a great figure and a few extra pounds only made her more voluptuous. I don’t know why that doesn’t work for me. Chad’s mouth was open, but at least he wasn’t drooling.

“I’ve had only one turn and look at me,” she said, and we smiled. We all looked at her, too.

“OK, next. Double-dare. Uh, oh, it’s me and Ashley. It says, ‘Dominic kisses Ashley on the mouth for at least thirty seconds. Well, a dad’s gotta do what a dad’s gotta do.”

Dominic put the iPad aside and pulled his daughter close. His lips closed on hers and for several seconds they held a chaste kiss. Ashley clinched him tighter. Their mouths opened. Dominic’s hand reached for her breast and cupped it. He rubbed his palm over her breast. After almost a minute, Susan loudly cleared her throat.

“Um,” Dom said. “Where was I? Whew. Next! Chad, Truth. When was the last time you ate a woman’s pussy and whose was it?”

Chad squirmed. “Do I have to say?”

Ashley said, “No, you can skip the question, but it will just give you another one that you’ll probably like even less.”

Chad looked off to the right at the fireplace and said, “About two weeks ago I ate my mom’s pussy.”

Susan rubbed his back and said, “Nice. Good son. How was she?”

“It was OK.”

With everyone knowing I’d had sex with Chad and Ashley, and now that it was clear that Ashley and her dad had a thing and Susan was OK with it, being invited to dinner and this game made a certain sort of sense. We were part of a small (I assume) secret slice of the population. Who could we share with except each other? I wondered if this is what it used to be like to be gay.

Dominic said, “Diane. Dare. Rub Chad’s cock for thirty seconds. That’s all it says.”

I wasn’t sure which would be weirder, hand inside or outside his pants, so I turned toward my son and stroked him through his jeans. He was already hard, probably from sitting next to nearly naked Susan. I used my nails and didn’t use much pressure. I didn’t want to make him come in his clothes.

“That is so hot,” Ashley murmured.

“Totally,” her mother added.

“Thirty seconds,” Chad said, a bit breathless, and I stopped. He’d been looking at his watch.

“Everybody OK?” Dominic asked. “Ready for more?”

[to be continued]