The Four-Day Weekend, Part III – Mom’ s Home!

KVK’s back, my friends!
My sincerest apologies for taking so long. It’s getting harder and harder to find time to write these days, but I’ve got lots more stories to tell, and since I’ve met with such a positive reception here, I don’t see any reason to quit now!
Also – I double-checked to make sure all the italics code was entered properly; sorry about that in the last chapter; total accident.
As always, constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy.


Sunday

There was a long, terrible silence.
Minda was huddled in the corner, covering herself with a pillow, her head bowed and her hair hanging over her face. At least she had thought to do so. I’d just frozen where I was like an idiot, on my hands and knees with my ass sticking straight up into the air. And taking all this in, standing in the doorway completely still, was my mother, home more than a day early from her business trip and the only one in the room with any clothes on.
She looked surprised. We all were, but she probably had a little more right to be. Here she was in her teenage daughter’s bedroom, who up until this point had displayed no acts or indications of wanton sexuality, and suddenly she catches me giving oral sex to my – female – best friend. This was probably pretty far down on the list of things she had expected to see today.
“Oh!” she finally said, blinking. “Oh my.”
I didn’t – couldn’t – move. I just stared and stammered something like, “Mom, I…”
“It’s okay,” she said, blinking again and averting her gaze. “It’s okay, just… put some clothes on and come downstairs and we’ll talk, okay?” She pulled the door shut.
More silence. Minda and I didn’t move. It was like, if we stood still long enough, maybe it would undo what had just happened.
“Shit,” I finally said.
“Oh, God…” Minda agreed.
“Shit!”
She nodded, looking miserable.
“We are in so much trouble. We are so dead.”
“Well, go after her!” Minda urged, making little pushing motions towards the door. “Say it wasn’t what it looked like!”
“It was exactly what it looked like, Minda! Fuck!”
She sighed. “I know.” Then she shook her head and moved off the bed, and began pulling clothes on.

When we’d dressed we headed downstairs to face the music. I couldn’t fucking believe it. How could I be having the best days of my whole friggin’ life, how could I have been feeling so good, and sharing that experience with my closest friend, and then suddenly have it explode like this? Fuck. Mom would send Minda home. I’d be grounded. More than grounded. She might not let me see her for a long time. Hell, she might not let me see her ever again. I wasn’t even embarrassed that Mom had caught us anymore; now I was just mad that, as soon as we had discovered each other this way, it was going to be taken from us.
I looked over at Minda as we reached the first floor. She had been looking at the ground the whole time. She looked so… sad. Guilty, too, but mostly just devastated. I felt some of my anger disappear, to be replaced with some of that sadness. I reached over for her hand. She grabbed it eagerly, our fingers twined together, and we squeezed, just once, before letting go again. She looked up at me finally with those big brown eyes of hers.
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said.
She almost looked like she believed it. I wished I did.
We found Mom seated at the kitchen table. We sat down across from her.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I began.
Mom sort of gave me this funny look. “Sorry? For what?”
Minda and I glanced at each other.
Mom sort of smirked. “What, you two think you’re the only ones to have ever gotten caught having sex?”
Well that shocked the hell out of us.
“Look,” she said. “It’s really okay. You’re not in trouble. I didn’t even know you two were in this sort of relationship. I should have knocked first.”
Minda and I glanced at each other. “Well, this hasn’t really been going on that long,” I said.
“It hasn’t?”
“No, I… Um… Well, we just…” I got flustered, gave up, and started again. “This all just sort of happened,” I finally managed.
“Uh huh,” said Mom. She thought for a minute, and then said, “Why don’t you just start from the beginning.”
We told her. All of it. We explained how we’d been trying on clothes Friday night, and Minda’s simple question about having bigger boobs had turned into something much more. Mom nodded to herself when I told her that was why I’d been so out of breath on the phone. We then told her about our talk the next morning, and our agreement to “experiment” after we got home and we were supposed to be in the house anyway.
“One thing just sort of led to another,” I said, not wanting to divulge any more detail than that, “and we fell asleep, you know, afterwards, and then we kinda started again when we woke up.”
Mom nodded, understanding. “And that’s when I came in.”
And then – I swear – she started laughing.
“Oh, girls,” she said, “I’m so sorry, I had no idea…”
Minda and I glanced at each other again. “So you’re… not mad?” Minda hazarded.
“Mad? No!” Mom started laughing even harder. Minda and I sort of chuckled, but I think we were still too freaked out to really join in. Looking back on it, though, I guess it was sort of funny. In a horribly awkward sort of way.
Mom finally got control of herself and said, “No, no I’m not mad. For goodness’s sake you’re teenagers. Experimenting with sex is what you’re supposed to do at this age. It’s perfectly natural.” She suddenly adopted a stern look. “Now, it would be a little different if I’d caught you with another person who wasn’t supposed to be in this house. Especially if it had been a boy and you hadn’t been using protection.”
I blushed fiercely. “Mooooom,” I groaned.
“Have you had other people in this house while I was gone?”
“No, Mom.”
“Have you had unprotected sex with a boy?”
“No, Mom!”
Mom nodded to herself. “Good. Not that I have any problems with you having sex with a boy, just… I don’t any of us want you pregnant at this age.” She looked at us, and smiled a little. “To be honest, you two have been so close for so many years I’m actually pretty surprised you haven’t done something like this before.”
“R-really?” Minda asked.
“Oh, sure,” said Mom. “I know I was having my own little ‘experiments’ when I was a couple of years younger than you two.”
Our eyebrows shot up. “You did?” we said in unison.
“Oh, yeah,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “The stories I could tell you…”
Mom talked for hours. She revealed to us a side of herself I’d never seen or even suspected. As it turns out, Mom had been quite the nympho when she was younger! She’d started masturbating way earlier than I had, and told us about her many partners through high school and college, men and women alike, sometimes with two or even three other people at once! She told us about the G-spot, described techniques and toys, relayed roleplaying sessions and bondage anecdotes, all with a level of detail I’d have thought anyone would be embarrassed to say out loud – especially to her own daughter! But she said she’d always enjoyed sex, and didn’t feel the need to hide it or be ashamed by it.
I remember suddenly seeing my mother in a totally different way, then. She and I had always been close. I’d never known my father, and so she and I had always only had each other. We were able to share most of our lives very easily with each other… but she’d always been Mom. Now, suddenly, I could see her just as a woman. A woman who’d married young and had a kid at twenty, and who had been forced to drop out of college to take care of it. And then Dad had just up and left us, left her. Fortunately she was able to use what little college education she had, and had landed a decent job which had miraculously led to promotions and raises and a good house in a good neighborhood. But before that, she’d been young and wild, and had, apparently, developed quite the sex life. I could see it, now that I was able to look for it: my mom was actually quite attractive. She was a little taller than me, and had a very similar face. She dyed her hair blonde and kept it short, chin-length, in a sort of bob cut. And she had a killer body. She worked out hard and often to keep it. I was amazed that kind of figure could exist on someone who’d had a kid. She had wide hips that swayed when she walked, and her breasts – I’d never really just looked at them before – were enormous. Jesus, when did she get those? They had to be at least twice the size of mine. I could tell by the way they moved that they weren’t as firm as perhaps they once were, but they were still impressive. And what was more curious is that I realized that she never displayed them.