“What do you mean controlling her?” Susan asks, clearly irritated, “and how is that your fault?” She’s standing in front of me with her hands on her hips, her breasts heaving as her anger affects her breathing.
“I’ll go with you,” Mom says, running down the hall to get dressed.
“It’s a long story, Sis. I’ll explain it all when I get home.” I stand up and we’re nearly toe-to-toe. “I’m sorry, but I have to do this.”
“Why can’t Mom just take Maggie the transmitter? Why do you have to run off the minute someone mentions Nicole’s name?” Fuck! I don’t have time for this shit!
“Because it’s my fault and I have to fix it, alright?” I yell, stepping around her and grabbing the car keys. “Are you ready, Mom?” I yell down the hall.
“Just a second!” She calls back.
“Fine!” Susan says, grabbing her suitcase. “I’ll go too!”
“You’d better hurry.” I sigh. “We’re ready to go!”
Susan pulls her sleepshirt over her head and, standing naked in the living room, rummages through her suitcase. Despite my distress over Nicole’s predicament, my cock jumps at the sight of my sister’s gorgeous tits swinging provocatively as she bends over searching through her clothes. My cock, still wound up from my breakfast with Mary, doesn’t understand why I don’t just grab Susan’s hips and plunge into her hot pussy from behind. I’m not exactly known for restraint.
Mom returns from her bedroom as Susan pulls her thong up and nestles the thin strip of material between her firm ass cheeks.
“I’m ready; are we all going?” Mom asks of no one in particular.
“Yes,” Susan says, fastening her bra and adjusting her tits inside the cups. “I’m not staying here by myself.”
I turn away, consciously deflating my cock before grabbing the transmitter out of my suitcase. Checking that it’s charged, I decide to wait for them outside. Fuck! What have I done? How could someone be using the trigger on Nicole? Or is there another transmitter?
Mom decides to drive and I ride shotgun, with Susan in the backseat. I spend the first half hour partially turned in my seat explaining the trigger concept to them.
“So anyone who says, ‘think it over, Nicole’ would have complete control over her?” my sister asks incredulously. “That’s pretty reckless! Why didn’t you use something more obscure? You should have treated this like a secret password or something.” I just nod and hang my head.
“I think he knows that, now,” Mom says, squeezing my thigh for reassurance.
“What did you use the trigger to make her do?” Susan asks.
“It doesn’t matter,” I answer quietly, remembering the few times I actually used the trigger on Nicole. “I’m not proud of myself.”
“Who else have you used the trigger on?” Mom asks, knowingly. Why do moms always cut to the core of the issue?
“Ohmygod!” Susan says. “You’ve used it on other people, too? Of course you have. Who?” She sits up, leaning her arms on the back of Mom’s seat.
“Only Dad and his secretary.” I mumble, keeping my head down. Fuck! I just remembered I used it on Miss Edwards too. I decide not to share that.
“You used it on your father?” Mom asks. “Why did you do that?” I’ve never really explained to Mom or Susan about what happened with Maggie and I at Dad’s office.
“Dad had an older model transmitter and things got way out of control. He was threatening Maggie and I didn’t want to ever be helpless around him again,” I blurt out, hardly making any sense. I ramble on for another fifteen minutes explaining what happened with Dad, strategically leaving out the parts where I fucked Danae and Christina. Mom and Susan, enraptured by the story, barely speak.
“So what’s your father’s trigger?” Mom asks when I conclude the story.
“Um… the same… ‘think about it Daryl.” I answer.
“You are so lame,” Susan says, smiling as she playfully slaps the back of my head.
“No, keeping a consistent trigger was a good idea,” Mom admonishes her. “Maybe it could have been a little less commonplace, but it’s easy to remember.” We drive in silence for a few minutes.
“I just don’t know how he could have changed so much,” Mom says, obviously referring to Dad. Neither Susan nor I offer an answer and we each settle into our own little world for the rest of the trip.
I lean my head against the window and close my eyes. My thoughts unexpectedly turn to Mary. With all the excitement, I haven’t had time to reflect on our early morning encounter. It was both thrilling and scary not having the transmitter to guide me. Her last words linger in my mind: “Let me think about it.”
Having seen Mary naked in our backyard, it doesn’t take much for me to slip into a fantasy world with her. Remembering the way Mom licked all around Mary’s thick nipples, I imagine myself teasing her mercilessly, focusing on her fleshy tits and her wide, dark areolas, while delaying touching her nipples. I recall how Mary moaned and spread her legs while Mom caressed her inner thighs. Visualizing her neatly trimmed brown patch and her thick, juicy pussy lips reminds me of how awestruck I was at the way Mom played her body like a finely tuned musical instrument.
I never saw Mom eat Mary’s pussy, she may have done it since then, but I can envision my own tongue snaking between her glistening folds, teasing out her juices and arousing her passions. Plunging my tongue deep into her succulent pussy, my only goal is her overwhelming pleasure. I want her screaming my name and begging me to fuck her. I imagine her grabbing my head and humping my face as I eat her through multiple orgasms, all the while pleading for my hard cock.