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From: "Chris Dee" <chrisdee1968@googlemail.com>
Subject: {ASSM} Understanding (Ff, cons, inc, Voy, MF)
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Date: Wed, 05 Jul 2006 12:10:02 -0400
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<1st attachment, "Understanding.txt" begin>

Understanding - Part One (c) 2006 by Chris Dee

   (Ff, cons, inc, Voy, MF)

   This is a work of fiction.  Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously,
and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

   THIS STORY CONTAINS EVENTS AND DESCRIPTIONS OF A SEXUAL NATURE.  IF YOU
ARE A MINOR, OR LIKELY TO BE OFFENDED BY THESE THINGS, PLEASE TRASH THIS
FILE RIGHT NOW.  IT IS NOT MEANT FOR YOU.

   ---------------------------------------------------- A note from Chris...

   I haven't written erotica for ages, and so this is my first story in a
long while.  I hope the rust doesn't show too badly, and that you enjoy
this story, as you have my others in the past.  If you have comments, feel
free to email chrisdee1968@gmail.com with comments, suggestions or even
just a thank you if you enjoyed the story.  Of course, none of it is true.

   ----------------------------------------------------

   Understanding Part One

   It's been my dream, all my life, to be understood.  Properly understood,
on every level.  Not just intellectually, but emotionally and sexually as
well.  Without the combination of all three, I doubt the ultimate close
relationship is possible.

   After a failed marriage and with no children, I set out in the middle of
my life feeling like I was a young bachelor again.  I had experienced the
frustration of being in a relationship that didn't quite work, and yet I
had a much better idea of what I really wanted.

   Not that I had any crazy fantasies that I insisted on playing out,
merely that I knew the kind of woman with whom I could feel complete.  I
had come so very close in my marriage, yet fallen at the final hurdle.

   My ex-wife is blonde, slim and with the most perfect pert breasts you
could imagine.  Her gentle Scandinavian features gave way to impressive,
feminine hips, and powerful legs.  Her muscular body feels warm, yet firm
to the touch.  She gives the impression of being a coiled spring, ready to
explode.

   A totally correct impression, it has to be said.  Lovemaking with her
was, at times, almost brutal.  Her need for sex had an animal side to it,
more so than with most women I have ever known.

   And that was the problem really.  She had little or no desire to join me
in my own sexual world, she merely wanted me to do my best to satisfy her.
So, in a sense, when it all came to an end, I was relieved.  Sex had become
a chore, even though I never tired of my wife's wonderful body.  If only we
could have made love in a way that took account of my needs too.

   Also, almost without me realising it, I had been quietly falling in love
with another woman, one who represented something very attractive to me. 
Obviously not just looks - it was everything.  At last, everything.

   It sounds corny, but I literally turn to jelly when I look at her.  I've
never felt such a strong attraction.  I'm not usually one to notice teeth,
but hers are just perfect.  Not to bright white like a film star, just
perfect in every way.  They quietly flash at me and remind me that
millimetres away are her full lips.

   Of course, I try not to let her know what I am thinking, but the truth
is that every time I see her, I go away with my mind full of her.  Physical
attributes alone would enable me to fill pages.  No, she's not perfect, but
even that is a plus - I mean, who would want the nightmare of a perfect
woman to deal with?  I certainly have no desire to spend the rest of my
life being reminded how imperfect I am.

   Helen is a great mother, too.  Her daughters clearly love her and
respect her, even if she is a little bit fearsome at times.  I think they
know, not even that deep down, that she loves them more dearly than
anything else in the world.  Despite bringing them up alone after the death
of her husband, she has somehow managed to hold down a job and bring up two
truly lovely children.  Both have a great sense of fun and are mature
beyond their years.  They have not always had it easy.  Their dad had his
accident when Rachel was just two years old, and Alison was not yet born.

   Helen has often told me that it was her kids that kept her going while
she was grieving.  The need to be there for Rachel and to give birth to
Alison made her choices easier than they might have been.

   Back then, I was little more than a family friend, although we never
went out as a foursome.  Maybe I was afraid that my attraction to Helen
would be a little too obvious in such a situation.  I can only assume that
my fascinated glances at her physique left little to the imagination of
another person watching me.

   It is a mark of the attraction that I feel that I cannot help myself. 
When Helen comes close enough for some chance touching to take place, I
breath in suddenly.  I feel like a schoolboy seeing down the blouse of a
teacher all over again.  Illicit views snatched like jewels and memorised
for later pleasure.  I feel myself freeze as Helen's delicate breast
brushes my arm for an instant.

   Afterwards, I feel guilty for scrutinising her breasts for any sign of
an engorged nipple as a result of the contact.  Surely she feels it too, at
some level?  I glance several times at her thin jumper, trying to work out
if she is wearing a military-grade bra which is hiding the tiny mound that
I long to see evidence of.

   Sometimes I am deliciously rewarded, particularly of late.  For me now,
the guilt has gone.  I am a free agent and living on my own, this may be my
one last chance to find the woman of my dreams - and Helen is certainly
that.  Yet I am so slow to make a move, so cautious, so keen to be doing
the right thing.  I do not make it easy for myself.

   I was not sure at first, whether Helen was opening the doors for me.  We
had always flirted, and I had always loved it.  We would hug, maybe for a
bit longer than was strictly appropriate, but no more than that.

   But now, she was not only being more flirtatious, she was doing tiny
little things which drove me completely wild.  She knows - she understands
- how my mind works.  She knows that sex, for me, is more in the mind than
anything else.  So often women think that all men want to do is fuck,
nothing more.

   In my case, nothing could be further from the truth.  For me, fucking is
the final act of the play, and it is so much the sweeter for that.  It is a
climax, a thank you, a sealing of the partnership and a cementing of the
sexual agenda between two people who love each other.  For me, that is what
sex is.  It is not some kind of rushed orgasm to keep my desires in check
for a while.  Heck, no.

   This understanding seemed to play itself out in how she sought to excite
me, to tempt me into her sexual world.  At first I thought I was deluding
myself, but gradually I became convinced that she was carefully
orchestrating scenes that excited me.  All made the more exciting because I
could not reveal the effect it was having on me.  Helen knows that I love
small and pert breasts, I am free with this information for two reasons:
Firstly, it is true, and nothing to be ashamed of - secondly, it goes
against the normal perception that breasts are to be more highly celebrated
as the cup size increases.

   Not only did she have the most wonderful breasts as far as I was
concerned, but both her daughters possessed the roughly same proportions.
Both girls were tall and elegant, and with a slight olive glow to their
skin.  Alison, although only sixteen, was shorter and had a slightly bigger
bust than Rachel, who was two years her senior.  All three of them would
have been classed as small breasted - certainly no more than a "C' cup in
size.

   Helen knew that when I was in the company of all three of them, I was
like a kid in a candy store - able to look, but never to touch.  One day
when I was round there sorting out their computer, Alison came in from
school with a filthy mark on her blouse.  I even caught Helen glancing at
me as she instructed Alison to take it off.

   Alison looked in my direction, slightly nervously, but clearly decided
that I was enough of a fixture in the place not to matter.  She quickly
removed her white school shirt to reveal an equally plain white bra.  After
throwing it in the direction of her unpaid washer-woman she grabbed a diet
coke and headed off upstairs, unaware of the ripples she had caused.

   In theory, to see a girl in her school bra, was to see considerably less
than if she was in her bikini top - something which I had seen dozens of
times.  All of that is true, but only in theory.  I felt that Helen knew
how tantalising the experience was for me, to see her daughter take her
shirt off in front of me.  It teased at the edges of a taboo, and led my
fantasies in directions I would rather them never go.

   That event played on my mind for some time.  Every man deludes himself
that the woman he desires is as keen as he is.  I am no exception, yet I
started to hope that it might really be true in this case.  If she was in
tune with the way I thought sexually, then she would sail through a little
test, I figured.  I need her to show how sensitive and clever she is, and I
need her to reveal that she wants to play with me on my terms.

   At thirty-eight, Helen has matured into the most beautiful of women. 
She is within three inches of my own six foot and three.  Her brunette
locks, often swept back into a pony tail, serve to accentuate her high
cheekbones and intense brown eyes.  In my own eyes, her beauty knows no
bounds, but what makes her utterly amazing is her intelligence and wit. 
She never misses a nuance of conversation and she is rarely the butt of
jokes.

   I like that she doesn't let me get away with anything.  She picks me up
on every ambiguity and seems to understand what I say almost before I say
it.  In short, I always feel that she understands me, and that is a very
powerful aphrodisiac.  Possibly the key to understanding is that on some
levels we are very much alike.  I seem to be able to look inside her mind
almost as much as she does mine.

   I like what I see.

   Our relationship, such as it was, consisted of me finding excuses to
"drop in", and inviting her and her family to events.  I play oboe in an
orchestra, or rather, I did then.  (So much has happened, but more of that
later.) This left me with a fair amount of time during the days when we
were not touring.  Helen worked part-time, so we often had time to spend
together during the daytime.  It's a good time to meet up, so much less
pressurised than the evenings.  Not only that, but the girls would be out
at school and college respectively.

   So then, my little test.  I decided that I had to raise the stakes a
little, and sexualise the conversation more so than previously.  I made it
appear safe, even boring, to start with.

   "I need to buy a new digital camera..."

   I was on the phone to Helen from my adequate but minimalist bachelor
flat by the river.

   "Oh, right..."

   Helen was interested to see what I was really getting at.

   "Would you like to come along and help me get a good deal on it?"

   My suggestion was laden with implication.  Helen decided to feign
ignorance.

   "I have no idea how I would help, unless you want advice on which colour
to get."

   I laughed briefly.

   "No, not that.  Not that at all.  I just thought that you might like to
come and be beautiful next to me.  If the salesman enjoys himself, who
knows what might be possible..."

   "You want me to whore myself in front of some grubby salesman?"

   "No, not whore yourself...no, not that at all."

   "Let me guess...  Skirt, skimpy top, push-up bra, plenty of make-up...."

   "Well...maybe along those sort of lines, yes."

   (Actually, such a cheesy image was the last thing I wanted, but using
Helen's sexual attractiveness to overpower the salesman was definitely what
I wanted.)

   Helen was triumphant:

   "YOU WANT ME TO WHORE MYSELF IN FRONT OF SOME GRUBBY SALESMAN!!"

   No amount of denial could retrieve the situation from here.  I was
delightfully damned.  I had revealed my idea and thrown myself on her
mercy.

   "OK, I'll come and help you buy your camera, but I'll do it my way."

   That made me breathe heavily.

   "OK," I managed, "I'll see you at 2pm".

   --------------------------------------------

   Commleton is a busy little town in the north of England.  Just big
enough to have some of the bigger stores like Marks and Spencers, but small
enough to retain the neatness of a market square and to avoid the building
of a "shopping centre".

   We had arranged to meet in what is happily the only Starbucks in
Commleton.  Even more happily for me, it is about 20 strides away from my
flat.  I have been known to refer to it as "my coffee lounge".  It has
pride of place, overlooking he river, today resplendent with folks out in
the hired rowing boats.  As I sat on the terrace enjoying the warm
sunshine, I had little idea of how much better my day was about to get.

   The truth was that since my conversation with Helen, I felt a little
stupid.  I was starting to liberate a fantasy that I had long held within.
Maybe it would be better left as a fantasy.  In my head it could be
perfect, whereas in the real world all manor of things could go wrong.  The
last thing I would want to do is to destroy my growing relationship with
Helen.

   However, another thought kept coming back: Unless I was to let someone
in to my own sexual world, I would forever be alone in it - and
fundamentally frustrated.  Sex would be less than it could be for me, and I
would spend my entire life worrying that I had missed my opportunities. 
So, with those thoughts buzzing around in my head, I looked up when someone
approached my table.  I was expecting it to be Helen, but it was Rachel.

   "Hi" she said.

   "Hello - I was expecting your mother..." I sort of stumbled.

   Rachel is a fine figure of a young lady.  Every time I see her with her
boyfriend, I imagine him pinching himself to make sure he is not dreaming.
Still, there she was, smiling in a way reminiscent of her mother when she
is at her cheekiest.

   "Oh, she asked me to go down to the electrical place with you, because I
want a CD player for my room."

   It sounded straightforward enough, but I was confused because Helen
appeared to be ignoring our previous arrangement.

   It was 2.15pm.

   "You mother hasn't texted to say she would be late or anything - has she
said anything to you?"

   "Just that she would meet us there, she said coyly.  I think she went on
ahead."

   "OK, then, we'd better make tracks."

   It was then that the first thing that really turned me on happened.

   "Can I put my jumper in your bag please?"

   Rachel was wearing the thinnest of jumpers, more like a sweatshirt.  I
assumed that it was all she was wearing on top, beyond, maybe, a bra.

   "Sure, if you want to."

   "Mum said I shouldn't wear too much for this.  So I did the best I
could. What do you think?"

   Rachel pulled her top off to reveal a dainty little crop-top with lacy
edges.  A lacy little bra lay underneath, looking very inviting.

   "I don't know what to say...  Wow!  You look incredible."

   "OK, then, time to see what Mum's little plan is."

   She knew more than she was letting on.  I risked a question:

   "Don't you feel uncomfortable that your mother asked you to dress that
way?

   I mean, I can pretty much see everything and so can everyone else."

   "Can you see my nipples?"

   "Well, no..."

   "In that case, I'm decent.  That's the way I see it.  It's a hot day
anyway."

   I hadn't paid much attention to Rachel's other clothes, but as she
walked ahead of me in the street, I noticed the above the knee peasant
skirt.  It completed the "girl next door" look.  Her hips swayed in a
continuous motion as we walked.

   I could only pray that she didn't know what she was doing to me.  I was
grateful that she was walking ahead of me, as it gave me a chance to adjust
myself so as not to show too much.

   As we neared the electrical shop, I saw Helen, already in there and
talking to what appeared to be the manager.  He was slightly older than the
other two assistants, maybe mid thirties.  Helen had a pile of cameras
around her and the manager "Nick" was talking about the features of each
one.

   Helen was dressed very simply in a white wrap-round skirt and white
blouse.  Not the cheesy kit she had described at all.  That said, the
blouse had most of the buttons undone, and her half-cup bra made regular
appearances as she moved around and bent over to look at things.  I could
see Nick glancing down the open front, enjoying an eyeful.  She was clever,
I'll give her that.  Nothing overt whatsoever, just a bountiful feast for
the manager to enjoy.

   As we walked up, Helen beamed and hugged her daughter.  Then she shocked
me.  For the first time ever, she left me jaw dropped.  Again, it was
subtle, but the implications were huge.

   She kissed Rachel on the lips.  Not a French kiss, but enough of a kiss
for Helen to turn her head at an angle for.  It was short, but loaded with
passion.

   Her greeting for me was a quick peck on the cheek and a brief squeeze,
during which she whispered in my ear:

   "Enjoying the show so far, Mike?"

   I couldn't answer, I was still dumbstruck.  Nick wasn't doing much
better, but he was snapped out of his reverie by Helen's questions about
the cameras.

   "My partner wants one as well, so we'll need to see the first ones
again, I think.  Is that OK, Nick?"

   "No problem." Nick just about managed to mutter.

   As he disappeared for a moment, Rachel grinned from ear to ear.

   "I bet he wasn't expecting that!"

   "Erm...neither was I, for that matter." I blurted.

   "Just watch, it's gonna get better." assured Rachel, that evil glint in
her eye.

   Helen touched her daughter's arm:

   "You're sure you're OK with this?  It's not really important you know,
just a bit of fun."

   Rachel assured her that she thought it was hilarious, and that she
really did want a nice stereo for her bedroom.

   "I'm pretty sure we can sort that out for you, Rachel.  Just follow my
lead."

   "There's just one thing I'm not sure I can do." A slightly pained look
overtook Rachel's features.  She half whispered the next bit:

   "I'm not sure about the masturbation...  did you really mean that?"

   Helen was earnest for a second:

   "Darling, don't do anything you're not comfortable with.  It's not worth
it.  Just do it as long as it is fun.  OK?"

   Rachel grinned again, obviously pleased that she had drawn a line in the
sand, and been reassured that it was OK not to cross it.

   As for me, well, this was all bar too much for me.  Just hearing that
conversation had done it for me.  I could have come then and there just by
blowing on my penis.  I had never witnessed such a sexually charged
scenario before.  It was not beyond my wildest dreams, because those were
very wild indeed, but it was beyond anything that had ever happened to me
in real life before.

   As Nick returned, with more cameras and launched into demonstrations, I
noticed Helen slowly inch her hand towards her right breast.  Cupping it
from below, she started to gently stroke the area over her nipple with her
thumb.

   Apart from this motion, she responded normally to the situation.  She
asked questions about the cameras and sometimes held one with her left
hand. I noticed Nick's hands begin to shake slightly.

   As her blouse was pretty open, she only needed to undo one more button
to enable her to slip her hand inside and stroke her bra directly.  It was
now clear that Helen was deliberately turning herself on.  I figured that
she wanted it to heat up as much as possible with nothing being said.

   I helped out by getting interested in a camera and "testing" it.  We had
moved to a corner of the shop, and though not completely private, anyone
who wanted to watch would have had to make it very obvious in order to see
properly.

   Helen allowed her blouse to fall completely open at the right hand side
by bending forward slightly.  This accentuated her cleavage a little and
showed off her lacy bra properly.  Without the white blouse material
covering it, we could all see her engorged nipple through the lace bra.  I
think all of us stopped for a moment to take in the sight.

   Helen pretended nothing out of the ordinary was taking place and
continued to stroke her nipple.  Because the bra was pure lace, the skin of
her nipple was actually slightly poking through the tiny holes of the
pattern, meaning that the gentle motion of Helen's thumb was actually
touching flesh.  Helen gave Nick no eye contact whatsoever, meaning that he
could look freely.  His glances went from Rachel to Helen, but rested more
on Helen because what she was doing was far more sexual.  That was about to
change.

   "Nick, is there somewhere I can go to adjust my clothing, to be
perfectly honest, this bra is uncomfortable and I need to take it off."
Before Nick could answer, Helen cut in:

   "No-one's looking, darling, just get on with it.  Honestly, it's not a
big deal."

   With that, Helen stopped what she was doing, reached up underneath
Rachel's top and unclipped her bra.

   "Can you take it from there?"

   "Ah yes, no probs."

   Rachel quickly pulled her arms through the straps and liberated herself.
without a bra on, she had broken her own decency law, because anyone could
easily see her nipples through her cotton crop-top when it rested against
her flesh.  It was obviously a big deal for her, because she had gone red.
Rachel gave me the first hug I had received from her in a long time. 
Clearly, she needed some comfort from me.  I did my best to hug her
normally, but my heart was beating so very fast and I was very swollen down
below.

   I had just seen the nipples of my friend's daughter.  Well, almost.  Oh
my.

   "Can you put this in your bag, Mike?"

   "At least I'm useful for something", I quipped, trying to sound normal.

   Time for Helen to move things on a little:

   "Have you any stools we can sit on?  This is obviously going to take
some time."

   Nick nodded and scurried away, eager to please.

   "OK, gang," said Helen "I think we've pretty much got him hooked.  Time
to go for it.  Are you sure you don't mind me touching you, darling?  I
won't if you don't want me to."

   "No, go for it, we've gone this far, and Nick's going bananas.  I want
him to get value for money - or electrical goods.  I hope we can pull this
off..."

   Helen's reply was silenced by the return of Nick with two stools. 
Rachel hopped onto one and Helen stood alongside her.  I was busy deciding
which camera to go for.

   As the girls waited for me to choose, they continued their performance.
First, Helen placed her left hand on her daughter's knees and casually
pulled her skirt up to reveal most of Rachel's leg.

   "Pull up the other side, Rachel, get some air to them.  It'll help."
Helen was motherly and convincing.

   Rachel did as she was told, except she pulled her skirt right up so that
her panties were just about visible.  Her long smooth legs were all but
perfect and she opened and closed them several times to "move some air".  I
caught all of this out of the corner of my eye.  Nick was all but an
unabashed spectator.

   Rachel started to caress her legs with her hands.  She did it nervously
at first, glancing up at Helen.  Helen nodded meaningfully at her, and
pointed to her own breast.  Rachel took the hint and moved her hand over
her own left breast.  Just as her mother had, she cupped it from below,
offering the best possible view, and flicked her own already hard nipple.
This went on for a while.  I glanced at Nick's waistline.  He was rock
solid, as expected.

   "Does that feel nice?"

   Helen's enquiry to her daughter was the first overt admission that
something was going on.  I knew it had to happen, but it was a magical
moment.

   Rachel nodded, but looked concerned.

   "I don't think I want to masturbate properly at the moment.  It just
doesn't feel right."

   "OK, darling, that's fine.  Would you like me to help you a bit?"

   "Yeah, that would be nice."

   Helen took her daughter's hand and pushed it underneath her top.  Now
Rachel was directly touching her own breast and nipple.  Helen added to the
effect by stroking the remaining nipple herself.  Rachel's eyes opened wide
for an instant - surprised that her mother was touching her there.  Once
used to the feeling, she relaxed and let it happen.

   After a few minutes Helen looked up:

   "Nick, would you like to see Rachel's breasts properly?"

   Nick was beside himself.  His hand was in his pocket, trying to slyly
touch himself.  He just nodded.

   "I'm going to pull your top off now, Rachel, is that OK?"

   "Go for it, Mum."

   Helen eased her hands under the bottom of the crop-top and pulled it
over Rachel's head.  Now Rachel was topless in the shop, and her wonderful
red nipples were hard for all of us to see.  Helen started to caress
Rachel's left breast again and Rachel closed her eyes, clearly experiencing
something amazing.  Rachel's left hand drifted between her legs and she
started to excite herself more fully.  With both nipples being stroked and
her own hand at work through the material of her panties, surely this was
as good as the sexual thrill was going to be?

   It was Nick who raised the stakes.

   "So, you both want that Canon camera and Rachel wants a stereo system
for her room?"

   Nick was addressing me.

   "Erm, yes, I guess so."

   "OK, you got it, as long as Rachel takes her panties off."

   Rachel was quick to interject.  "Not going to happen, mate.  This is a
far as it goes."

   Helen pointed out that Rachel really needed a laptop computer as well,
and suggested that Nick find a very good one, with all the extras.  Soon
the camera and computer boxes were piled on the counter, making a good
shield against prying eyes.

   "It's up to you, Rachel, don't do it if you'd rather not, but if you do,
there are lots of good things in it for you."

   Helen's words were less convincing now that this was about getting
valuable things.  The girls needed to get the power back.  Helen had the
answer.

   "Nick, it's not fair us being semi-naked and you just watching.  Get
your dick out and show it to us."

   Nick was obedient, and showed himself to have a nicely proportioned
appendage, albeit under the influence of what may well have been his
biggest ever erection.

   I was secretly hoping two things:

   1.  That Nick would not cum too soon and lose interest.

   2.  That I would not be asked to do the same.

   Helen seemed satisfied, and Rachel took a good look too.  They nodded to
each other, and Rachel stood up.  With one easy motion, she swept off her
skirt and panties.  Apart from her sandals, she was now completely naked.
Her firm but tiny breasts, adorned with cherry red nipples, hard as rock,
her neatly trimmed V of pubic hair and those smooth long legs.  Everything
was on show.

   Well, not quite everything.  Not yet.

   Rachel climbed up on the counter and lay on the glass.  It was then that
Helen revealed the final twist in this sexual epic.  She stepped up to the
counter and kissed Rachel on the lips, this time a full-on french kiss.  As
she kissed her daughter, she allowed her hands to slide from Rachel's knees
to her thighs, before gently coming to rest on her vaginal lips.

   "Mike, do you want to make this extra-special?"

   The voice was Rachel's.

   "Erm....OK.......I mean, how exactly?"

   My heart was in my mouth.  I could have cum three times by now if I had
dared to touch my cock.

   "Stroke my Mum's nipples, she deserves something out of this."

   Nick spoke up: "What do you want me to do?"

   Helen was very quick in reply:

   "Just watch and masturbate.  Whatever you do, do not touch, or the deal
is off."

   Nick nodded and muttered "OK".

   Feeling very uncomfortable, and even clumsy, I approached my dream woman
from behind, as she carefully slid her fingers in and out of her daughter's
vagina and stroked her breasts and stomach.

   Helen was still pretty much dressed, so I took the risk of unhitching
her bra and sliding my hands round her till I hit breast.  It was a sublime
feeling, and far surpassed everything I had imagined.  They were both soft
and firm at the same time, and the nipples were amazingly hard.

   Suddenly I felt a hand on my cock.  Shocked, I looked down, and then
realised what had happened.  Rachel had stretched out her arm to touch her
mother between the legs and gone a bit too far.

   "Mike, can you take her panties off for me, please?  I need to touch her
flesh."

   Rachel sounded almost desperate in her request.  I was quick to comply.
I figured Helen would tell me not to if that's what she wanted.

   I reached all the way down and pulled up the skirt, before locating and
grasping of the waistband of Helen's panties.  Soon they were round her
ankles, allowing Rachel full access to her mothers most private place. 
before long, both girls were moaning with sexual exertion and I sensed
orgasm was near.  I decided to do something kind for Nick.  I pulled
Helen's blouse apart and made sure he got a good view of her breasts.  I
then gave into my own desires and thrust a hand between Helen's legs, to
join the steady motion of her daughters hand, already there.

   Helen was very wet, and obviously turned on beyond belief.  Rachel was
starting to sweat, as she writhed under the influence of her mother's
stimulation of her.  Rachel was still working on her left nipple, but
harder than before.  She was gripping and pinching as she neared orgasm.

   Helen was moving quite violently, so much so that I worried she would
not stay standing when she finally came.

   Nick was somehow able to masturbate without cumming, and I simply did
not dare to approach my manhood at all.

   Eventually, I felt the waves of orgasm grip Helen causing her to give
one last thrust to Rachel, which must have pushed her over the edge.  Both
women let out stifled gasps as they came, trying not to draw too much
attention to themselves.

   Nick politely came into a tissue, a box of which he passed around. 
Believe it or not, I did not cum at that point, but that was to change
later on.  Rachel dressed herself, except without panties and bra.  She was
radiant in every way, almost dreamy.  Helen asked me to replace the panties
I had displaced earlier and she rearranged her bra and blouse to be at
least semi-decent.

   We tried to avoid all the "Thank you, cum again" jokes as we left with a
pile of boxes.  Nick seemed very content, and assured us that he thought he
got good value.  Too right he did.  This was not what I had in mind when I
phoned Helen at all.  I imagined maybe a lttle flash of tit or maybe leg,
nothing more.

   The upshot of all of this was that the three of us travelled in virtual
silence as we taxi'd back to Helen's place.  As I gazed at Helen, her
mysteries unlocked at last, I reflected that my plan of easing into a
relationship with her had gone badly wrong.  Here I was, in very deep
indeed.  Maybe I had been before, just never recognised it.

   As for Rachel, I could never look at her in the same way again.  She was
certainly a woman who knew what she waned, and was prepared to go to quite
extreme lengths to get it.  I wanted to ask her about how she felt having a
sexual experience with her own mother.  It was a question that bothered me.
It also bothered me that I had seen her naked, and in such sexually charged
circumstances - and in public, for goodness sake.

   My face must have been a picture, because both Helen and Rachel, on
either side of me put their arms through mine, leaned on my shoulder and
told me not to worry.  It was touching and lovely.

   Didn't stop me worrying though.

   === END OF PART ONE ===
   (There's so much more in my mind - just not much spare time...)


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