It was good to see Father again but at the same disappointing, as he looked comfortable with Gemma's mum, Mrs Leighton. I was beginning to fear that Sally had permanently abandoned me, leaving me in the sixth circle of hell with Mother. I lay back on my bed pondering a future of eternal anguish when a dynamic sound somehow magically animated the lifeless structure of our house. It could only have been Sally, and I sat up in hopeful anticipation listening to the vibrant, energetic spirit closing in on me. 

She merrily waltzed into my bedroom as if she had never been gone! 

"Sally!" I brightly enthused with my arms open wide as she spun and ignored my gesture and went to her handbag.

"Another present!" she declared, throwing me another pair of panties as I sat up on my bed.

"Oh! Thanks, whose are they?" I asked, holding them up to the light for inspection, not wanting to broach the questions that were vexing me.

"Don't worry, they're clean!" Sally joyfully enlightened upon seeing my distressed face.

I gulped in embarrassment as I caught the words, "I prefer them dirty," leaving my lips. I perused the lacy red panties and gulped and immediately felt an erection stirring. I had always loved red panties. 

"They used to belong to Mandy," she notified with zest, "I know you like her as well," she jovially teased. I didn't mind, as it was good to have her back and questions about her other activities would have to wait. 

"How did you get them?" I asked nervously, wondering if Gemma had let on that I had been watching them in their girl on girl tryst. 

"Don't worry, your secret's safe, I stole them from her drawers when I used her bathroom."

"You stole them?"

"Yes, for you, you can always give them back if you want to," Sally laughed. 

"Are you the one stealing Gemma's panties?" I inquired knowing that no such thief existed.

"Of course not! I wouldn't steal my best friend's panties!" she protested, causing me to laugh.

"Of course not, you just steal your teammates' panties."

"That's right, it's not as if they're going to miss them, with all the exercise in training we get through we're almost wearing three pairs a day."

"Really?"

"Of course, we're not like you boys, you know, wearing one pair a week! We have to change our undies after a day in college, especially if it's hot. They just get so sweaty, and they're so light and delicate, if we kept the same pair on like you boys the sweat, urine seepage and menstruation would destroy them within three days!"

"Oh! Come on, Sally enough!" I protested with a feeling that she was just trying to gross me out.

"Hey! You said yourself, you prefer a dirty pair."

"That's true, but I've never said anything about menstruation."

"So you're a beginner when it comes to panty sniffing? I'll tell you now you haven't lived until you have a pair under your nose from a girl who's having a heavy period." 

"Okay! Enough!" I protested, causing Sally much amusement and encouraging her to get right in my face. 

"Just imagine very bloody, sweaty, piss stained panties pushed right in your face!" She spat at me almost nose to nose.

"You're disgusting! What's happened to you?" I queried more in astonishment than disgust.

"Just learning the ways of the world, bro!" She exclaimed laughing.

I took Mandy's panties to my hiding place below my bedside cupboard and immediately felt it was a mistake. Sally had lied to me about a few things, and I wondered if it was just for fun or to set me up for some unknown reason.

"You're getting quite a collection," She said on observing my stash of lingerie contraband. 

"Yeah, I've a pair of Gemma's, Sandra's and now Mandy's!" I joked," it won't be long until I have a pair from all the cheerleaders."

"You've a pair of mine, don't forget!" she taunted with a leering grin, "or don't you think I'm hot?"

I cringed in humiliation as Sally turned the screw, "Whose will you be wearing the most to get off in?" 

"Not yours, that's for sure!" I hit back.

"Oh thank you, that's the last time I do you a favour," 

I instantly rowed back, knowing I could lose the source of a great many sexy pairs of panties. 

"No! Sorry, what I mean is your panties were ruined with my silly attempts to wash them. Besides, you've got far sexier pairs in your collection."

"What! How do you know?" gasped Sally.

I stumbled for a while and then hit upon the obvious. 

"I've seen them on the clothesline!" I blurted.

"What!" exclaimed Sally staring at me, wide-eyed and dropped-jawed. The silence went on, unnervingly long, long enough for me to perpetuate the lie. 

"Yes, I'd study your panties for ages when they were on the clothesline," I lied with bravado, daring Sally to question me further.

"Do you imagine me in them?" she asked with a stutter.

"Of course, you in your matching panties and bra."

"Wow! Cool!" was her shocking response.

"Have you ever gone to my drawers and borrowed a pair?" 

"Of course I have, you don't think I was going to let all those fabulous panties go to waste on your scrawny pussy and ass!"

"Oh my god! You perv!" She laughed, "You in my panties, I can't believe it! What an honour."

~~~

I spent another day in college with my head in the doldrums. I was afraid to broach the topics with Sally, the subjects of Father with Mrs Leighton and her lesbian performance with Gemma.

Finding out that Sally was gay was shocking enough, but for her to be with Gemma, the unrequited love of my life, was depressing.

The erotic visage of them naked with each other lasted as long as it took for me to ejaculate, but I wanted more from Gemma. The Improbable hopes and dreams of her being my girlfriend had given me succour against the tidal wave of bleakness that had befallen our house. Everyone in our family, even Sally had changed dramatically in the short time we had moved there.

I clutched at straws of hope, Gemma could be going through that experimental age I was always reading about, and after all, she did wave me in to join them. That wave became my life-raft of hope, something to hold onto and keep alive my dreams with Gemma.

The next day I stood nervously outside Gemma's house. I had walked past her house many times on the way home from college always taking a small detour so I could get a glimpse of her. To say 'hello' and have her acknowledge me would give me sufficient Dreamtime and make my world a happier place.

This time I didn't need excuses, as I knew my father was with her mother, and I had every right to see him. I rang the front doorbell and waited. There was a slight distortion of a figure refracted through the front door glass, and I felt a small build-up of apprehension as the metallic-sounding locks opened.

"James!" merrily greeted Mrs Leighton, her face full and smiling and clearly happy to see me. 

Her greeting filled me with confidence and instantly sowed seeds of affection for her.

"Do come in," She invited before I could say anything. She stood back from the door and indicted with a swish of her arm the path to take.

I walked into the sparse modern living room quickly looking around. There above the fireplace was a picture of a young Gemma posing for her school photograph, and I could see the seeds of the beauty she was going to blossom into.

"Take a seat," Mrs Leighton bid, "what would you like to drink?"

I asked for a glass of water, and she scurried away to the kitchen. She was wearing a tight pencil skirt with a small slit at the back. She had a beautifully sculptured rear, which would have had me drooling if I hadn't heard the words, "Get in here, I'm going to nail your ass," from my voracious Father.

I sank into an armchair and sighed, thinking who could blame him when all that was at home for him was our vicious sabre-toothed mother.

Mrs Leighton returned with a tumbler of water and bent over me to place it on a far side table. Her tight white blouse stretched across her ample breasts with the top button straining not to burst open and reveal more of her cleavage.

My eyes feasted themselves on this erotic view, and Mrs Leighton smiled as she caught me gorging myself on her tits. They were tightly bound in a sexy red bra easily seen through her light white blouse.

"Thank you, Mrs Leighton."

"Call me Jay, please," she smiled as she pushed herself up off my lap. Her manicured hand placed on my upper leg with a thumb inching down towards my penis.

She smiled at me once again as she pushed up and move away to sit in the chair opposite. I laughed to myself as I thought Mrs Leighton was the stereotypical horny widow. She would take anything she could get, at least that's what my magazines eluded too.

"How's Sally?" she casually asked as she reclined in her seat.

"She's good, thanks for taking her in, I hope she wasn't too much trouble?"

"That's okay, I just saw it as one big sleepover," Jay casually relayed, looking up and crossing her legs.

I watched as she did this hoping for a glimpse up her skirt but saw nothing. It always amazed me how skilled girls were at sitting, crossing their legs and getting out of cars without exposing their underwear. They had non-exposure down to fine art and yet I always looked in the hope I'd get just a peek of panties or a flash of stocking tops. It was an unremitting tease that guaranteed girls got my attention. 

There were days when I'd see the sexiest girl in the shortest skirt imaginable and watch as she went to sit down opposite. This would be it! Surely it would be impossible not to show her wears with a skirt that short and my gaze would focus with laser-like precision. I'd home in between her legs and watch with expectation as she delicately sat down.

It was always a disappointment as I'd see nothing leaving me to peer into the darkness between her skirt and knees in a forlorn hope I'd see something, anything!

"A sleepover?" I queried.

"It's a name the Americans have given it. It's basically girls sharing a room to do their homework, watch TV and chat endlessly about dishy boys," She laughed.

"Really?" I thought Sally was staying in the spare room."

"No, We don't have a spare room for a start. I wish we did, I may have been able to keep the noise down," Jay laughed.

"I can imagine, the record player and TV too loud, the endless chatter and pillow fights," I joked. It was an underhand way to try and find out if she knew about Gemma's and Sally's intimate activities. 

It was a devious way around the subject, but I could hardly ask if Mrs Leighton knew they were drinking from each other's well. In the end, I needn't have been so diplomatic.

"No, not that! Those two were at each other like rabbits all night," She laughed before catching herself, "Oh sorry, you did know, didn't you?" she asked slightly alarmed.

"Only just, I must admit it depressed me a little," I sighed.

"Don't worry, it could be just a phase. I went through one myself would you believe?"

Yes, I could believe at this moment in time, as Mrs Leighton was a sexy experienced, confident lady. I found it hard to imagine her being a shy innocent virgin. A girl waiting for her sexual persona to be shaped by chance and candidness of mind. 

Mrs Leighton's eyes looked at the ceiling, envisaging some scene from the past. 

"I remember four of us having to get digs near the university and me being the smallest having to share in rotation the other girls' beds."

"That sounds exciting," I opined leaning forward on my seat making it evident that I wanted more detail. I needn't have worried as Mrs Leighton was off on a trip to the past happily eulogising her questionable history. 

"We were always drunk in those days, and it wasn't long before one of the girls had her hands wandering all over me," She merrily told, laughing at the memory. "And before long they were all having a dip!" she saucily joked. I wondered why Mrs Leighton was so candid with me as I hardly knew her. I thought maybe Gemma's gay activities were new to her and forthright in her mind reminding her of her own lesbian experiences.

I imagined a young Mrs Leighton, a prototype Gemma, petite and big breasted, stripped of her nightdress and at the mercy of the three vamps. The vision had me erect in no time, and I opened my legs for growth.

I wanted to ask for more detail, but it was unnecessary as she kept up her reminisces, Her big eyes looking up to the ceiling to help her recall. 

"Oh, happy days," She dreamily confessed, "there were drunken nights when they all wanted me! Oh what fun, they had me naked as they played 'pass the parcel' with me. Hands and tongues everywhere, you can imagine!" 

"So are you bi-sexual?" I nervously asked. I congratulated myself at my question regardless of its glibness. It was something hard to put forward to an experienced woman of the world from a timid virgin.

"Not really, it was just of it's time. If it weren't for the need for me to share a bed, booze and the absence of men it would never have happened," She sighed with a hint of regret.

"As soon as we fell in love with boys, it was all forgotten, a guilty secret. Like I said, a phase."

"So you never went back to girls."

"No, never and the older I get, the more exciting I find those memories instead of feeling guilty about them," Mrs Leighton sighed lamentably. "It's frustrating knowing that a situation like that will never happen again."

"That's hopeful," I accidentally sighed out aloud in relief.

"What do you mean?" charged Mrs Leighton, her furrowed brow becoming more intense as she stared.

"Sorry, I don't mean you," I laughed quickly dispersing the tension, "what I mean is that Gemma might be the same, as you said, a passing phase." 

"Oh," responded Mrs Leighton leaning back in her chair with a puzzled look on her face still not grasping my meaning.

"Sorry, what I mean is I'm very fond of Gemma, and if she's gay she'll never want to know me," I clumsily explained.

"Aw, you're in love," she sympathised, "Don't take things so seriously, just go out and experiment and have fun!"

"I know, but it's easier said than done." 

"True, no matter what words of wisdom I give from my experiences will ever change a mind that's in love."

"True," whispered.

"You'll be surprised what turns you on," Quickly added Mrs Leighton. "You know once those three girls at university got me in the living room  just because they wanted to experience spanking!"

"Sorry?" I remarked in confusion but then quickly realising that Mrs Leighton's head was still at her university re-editing her torments in a fond light.

"They had my skirt up and panties down and over a lap spanking my bare bottom!" She blurted from left field.

I smiled, enjoying her private reminisces and urged her on.

"They spanked you!" I reaffirmed knowing I'd get more detail.

"Oh, yes they passed me around from lap to lap and walloped my backside red-raw, the bitches!" she added affectionately with a laugh.

"You know I was almost crying with pain and yet afterwards it turned me on something rotten! It was such a shock, I never thought I'd like that sort of thing in a hundred years!"

I had never understood the pleasures of spanking but imaging a young Mrs Leighton having her rear tanned really turned me on and I was hoping to hear more.

"What got me onto that subject," mused Mrs Leighton, "Oh yes, the sound of spanking coming from Gemma's bedroom," she laughed. 

I sighed inside, remembering the paddle I had found in Sally's bedroom, the thought of Gemma and Sally spanking each other was a possibility now, which confused me. I decided to change the subject.

"Are you and my father an item?" I asked in an accusatory way bringing a serious to Mrs Leighton's face. She composed herself while thinking of an answer.

"We're just friends, that's all."

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound disrespectful, but that's not the impression I got when I saw the two of you the other day." 

"We have sex," Mrs Leighton blurted out bluntly with a smile, "Don't confuse love and sex, we all have needs."

"Needs?" I pondered naively unable to grasp two adults living under the same roof and being 'friends'.

"Yes, needs, it's what pushed your father onto me in the first place, his need for sex," She affirmed.

"What?" I gasped in amazement, "he didn't leave my mother for you?"

"No, I was just a shoulder to cry on, he told me your mother had turned off sex for nearly three years, and I'm not getting any younger and so we, er, comforted each other."

Our parents' sex life never came under scrutiny; it was something we averted our ears, eyes and thoughts from. It was never discussed except when we became curious about them vacating the master bedroom with the overhead mirror. Couples having sex watching themselves in an overhead mirror was one of the many clichéd objects written into pornographic stories. So why were they quick to get away from it? 

"So my father's just a casual screw?" I asked forthrightly, surprising myself.

"James!" Laughed Mrs Leighton, "It looks like that rampant appendage between your legs is controlling your tongue." 

I gulped and pathetically tried to cover up my erection boldly pushing up my trousers, "Sorry," I meekly whispered,

"Aww, poor James, looks like I've got you going with all my smutty stories," She...