                      Family Ties
                      ===========



The girl with the ring through her eyebrow hadn't yet put back on her 
clothes and was standing naked in the kitchen, her head tilted back as 
she took a long swig of the bottled water she had found in the fridge. 
Maxine, wearing only a bath robe open at the front, stood by the 
kitchen door and smiled. She wandered over to the girl, so slim and 
sensuous, her body still a little clammy after their early morning sex, 
and placed an arm over each shoulder, lowered the girl's head and 
kissed her on the forehead. The girl took the cue, set down the bottle 
and expectantly raised her lips up to Maxine's mouth: slightly open 
and her breath a touch short. Maxine plunged her tongue deep into the 
girl's mouth, skimmed her teeth over the sharp incisors and encircled 
the tongue around and around her own, the drool of shared saliva 
bubbling up and spilling out of the corner of their conjoined mouths.

Maxine gently pushed her face off the girl's. Christ! Her jaw ached, 
but then kissing wasn't the only amorous activity she and this girl had 
been practising through the long morning and into the (yes! It was!) the 
early afternoon. Her jaw was as totally fucked as the rest of her.

She idly ran her fingers down the girl's chest and squeezed the erect 
button-like nipple in her fingers and twiddled it, her other arm still 
around the girl's neck.

"So, what did you say your name was?" she asked.

Maxine didn't get to hear because suddenly she heard the phone ring. 
Fuck! Who could that be? She was contemplating leaving the phone 
be, but she thought better of it. Saturday night was on the way, and 
there might be plans to make, friends to meet, more women to fuck. 
She slithered out of the girl's arms, her bathrobe slipping down one 
shoulder and the whole of a rounded, aroused breast on show, glided 
across the kitchen tiles and picked up the cordless phone.

"Yes. Who is it?"

"Is Misty there? It's her mother."

"Misty's Mum?"

"Yes, is she there?"

Maxine sighed. Misty wouldn't be well pleased. She could hear her 
gasps of coital pleasure coming from the other bedroom where she was 
with the bloke she'd picked up, while Maxine had, as usual, got the 
girl. What was the bloke's name? Mike? Mark? Fuck knows. She 
didn't even know the name of the really gorgeous, if rather short, girl 
she'd been getting to know in the most intimate way possible all night 
long.

"She's here, but she's busy!"

"She can't be that busy not to talk to her mother. I'd really like to talk 
to her now if I can."

Maxine had never met Misty's Mum, but she'd spoken to her often 
enough on the phone to know that she wasn't a woman who could be 
easily fobbed off. She also knew that there was some kind of messy 
divorce going on with Misty's father, whom her best friend had never 
been that close to, and that Misty would probably be quite annoyed not 
to have got the call.

"Okay, Mrs Milton. I'll take you to Misty."

Maxine pushed open the door to Misty's room, the one the two girls 
often shared during the week, and felt that usual pang of disgust and 
slight jealousy when she saw that Misty was being fucked. She was 
naked and perpendicular to the bed and, also naked, Mike's (or 
Mark's) recumbent body lying on his back, his penis erect and firmly 
sheathed within Misty's wide-open and gushing vagina. Misty was 
pumping steadily up and down, like a sensuous piston-engine, the 
shininess of her vaginal juices and all the semen sparkling in the early 
afternoon sun as it shone through the curtained window.  She was 
grunting softly, but paused in her thrusts when she saw Maxine proffer 
her the phone.

"Who is it?" she hissed. "You can see I'm busy!"

"It's your Mum!" said Maxine, handing over the phone hastily and 
standing by the door, unsure whether to stay for the handset or to leave 
and return to unfinished business with the girl in the kitchen.

Misty put a finger to her lips to tell the man beneath her not to make a 
sound and still moving slowly up and down, up and down, on the erect 
penis, she placed the phone under her dyed blonde shoulder-length hair 
and supported her other hand on her upper thigh. 

"Yeah Mum?"

Misty frowned.

"You what? You can't be serious? When?"

Her eyebrows raised up her unfurrowed brow, while she adjusted the 
penis still inside her and grunted assent to what was being said. "Yeah 
. Hmm . Yes . Are you sure? . Yeah. OK! . I guess you'll 
have to . Tomorrow? Bit soon, isn't it? . Hmm! Yes. OK! Bye 
Mum! ."

It looked like Misty was about to return the phone to Maxine, so her 
friend leaned over the bed for it, an elbow indenting the sheet near a 
masculine thigh she was glad Misty was getting to know rather than 
her.

"Yeah! Yeah! Bye Mum!"

She clicked the button on the phone and handed it back to Maxine.

"It's only my fucking Mum! She's coming down to stay with us. 
Apparently, there's too much shit for her to stay at home. My Dad's 
being a right fucking bastard about the settlement. The cunt! I hate 
him."

Maxine took the phone and stood back off the bed while Misty eased 
her bosom down onto the man's black-haired chest, his pubic hairs 
tangling amongst the trim and tidy hairs of Misty's crotch, while the 
couple returned again to the rhythm of their thrusts with a more 
passionate, insistent tempo.

"When's she coming? Not too soon?"

"Yes! Yes!" gasped Misty, partly to Maxine and partly to Mike (or 
Mark). "Wednesday, I think. Maybe, yes! Maybe, uhh! Yes! Thursday 
perhaps. Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Maxine could see that Misty had got a little excited from the kinkiness 
of chatting with her mother whilst being fucked at the same time. That 
was almost the thing she liked most about her best friend and her most 
frequent lover, that there was just no event she couldn't twist to its best 
erotic advantage. If it hadn't meant clambering past a body jerking and 
thrusting under Misty's own vigorous reciprocal thrusts, she'd have 
leaned over and kissed Misty out of sheer love. And probably would 
have done so had Misty only brought home a woman instead of a man.

Maxine eased close the door and carried the phone back to the kitchen. 
At least, Maxine's Mum wasn't the sort to spend too long chatting on 
the phone. With any luck, the girl with the little silver ring above her 
eye would still be in the kitchen and still naked. Maxine felt like 
having a little more fun before the day got properly under way.

Misty's mother was a tall, thin woman in her forties, who dressed 
smartly and bore some considerable resemblance to her daughter. 
Maxine could see the similarities in the slightly pointed nose, the 
arched eyebrows, the long serpentine neck, and, most of all, in the 
angular sharpness of her knees, which she kept stockinged but clearly 
visible below the hem of her Nichole Farrhi business skirt. Maxine 
agreed to spend every night in Misty's bedroom for the duration of her 
mother's stay, something which wasn't too much problem most nights, 
but might be a problem if Misty brought back a male lover. She didn't 
want a repetition of the time with that ghastly man with the fat cock 
who thought that just because he was in bed with two women, he had 
two vaginas he could penetrate.

"You sure you don't mind sharing with my daughter?" wondered Mrs 
Milton.

Maxine shook her head. "I don't mind at all. I just hope you find my 
bed comfortable."

"I'm sure I will. And it will be strange indeed to be sleeping in a 
bedroom surrounded by so many pictures of naked women."

Maxine blushed. It was obvious to her that Misty's mother had either 
already known or had just astutely guessed what her main interests 
were. "As long as you're comfortable," she repeated. "That's the main 
thing."

"And that you don't get bored, Mum," Misty commented, leaning 
against the kitchen sink, a cigarette in one hand and wearing the quite 
severe business suit which she'd worn in the office all day. So much 
smarter than Maxine herself, but then there was no need to dress 
stylishly in the software consultancy where she worked. "It's going to 
be bloody boring being here all day."

"There's plenty to do in the city, dear. And it's a bloody relief just to 
get away from all that shit with your bloody father. He drives me 
spare! And, if you don't mind, you couldn't offer me a cigarette would 
you?"

Misty opened the cigarette packet that was sticking out of her Prada 
handbag and handed it to her mother. "I didn't know you smoked, 
Mum."

"I don't. Well, I haven't since you were a little girl. But my nerves! 
They're bloody torn to pieces!"

It wasn't that easy for Maxine to accommodate her life around Misty's 
mother. Maxine's evenings were now compromised by having to 
watch television programs that appealed to such an older woman. 
Maxine didn't know before that there were so many drama 
programmes on the set. And she was more than a little bored by the 
soap operas which featured people she'd never heard of before and the 
permutations of their complex lives of which she rather wished she'd 
remained ignorant.

Thankfully, Misty's mother didn't take up smoking with quite her 
daughter's enthusiasm; otherwise life would have become truly 
unbearable. But it was a relief at the end of the day when Mrs Milton 
finally returned to her bedroom. Then, Maxine and Misty could 
themselves retreat to Misty's bed, in a room rather cluttered now that 
all Maxine's clothes and possessions were crammed together with 
Misty's own. Maxine was somewhat shy now of going into her own 
bedroom whilst there was the risk of meeting Mrs Milton. 

She wasn't sure why she was so shy. After all, it was her room. The 
two girls had only chosen to share Misty's bedroom because it was the 
larger of the two. But she somehow didn't want such an older woman, 
and her best friend's mother at that, seeing her undressed or naked. 
And she was quite shy about making love with only the thickness of 
the walls between the woman who was the object of her passion and 
the mother of that woman. Not that this is in any way inhibited Misty, 
who was exactly the same as ever in how vocal she was in her 
lovemaking, unrestrained in the thrashing of her limbs and adventurous 
in the extent to which she would push the limits of their mutual sexual 
gratification.

"So, what do you think of my Mum?" asked Misty after a few days.

Maxine sighed. "I'll be pleased when she's gone and we can return to 
normal life again. And I can have my own room to myself."

"Don't you like sharing with me?" teased Misty, squeezing her lover's 
clitoris between her fingers.

"It's not that. Not that at all," Maxine sighed, surrendering herself once 
again to pleasure.

"But what do you think of my Mum?" insisted Misty. "As a person?"

Maxine thought she was almost an older version of her daughter. And 
it wasn't just the family resemblance. They were both women who 
knew what they wanted and knew how to get it. And she was sure that 
Misty's mother, when she was at work, which she used to do in the 
business she had once co-owned with Misty's father, was just as 
aggressive in a business suit as she knew Misty to be. But she loved 
Misty all the same despite, and perhaps because of, her self-
assuredness and self-confidence. Perhaps if she loved Misty she should 
also love her mother.

"She's okay. Very nice. What about you? Do you still think as highly 
of your mother now you're seeing so much more of her?"

This was partly intended to remind Misty of her past eulogising on her 
mother, who over the distance of a few miles had taken on some kind 
of mythical quality. 

"In fact I like her more, I think," Misty replied with a nod. "She's 
pretty clued up. On the ball. Age hasn't blunted her at all. And, you 
know, she's not bad looking either for a woman who must be, let's 
think, not too many years off fifty. Her tits haven't sagged and she's 
got a pretty cute bum."

Maxine was slightly startled. She would never dream of saying 
anything like that about her mother. Not that her mother wasn't an 
attractive woman, she was sure, but she just never thought of her as 
anything other than as a mother. But she clearly didn't cut quite the 
figure as did Mrs Milton. Her clothes weren't nearly as expensive and 
her face had a slightly tired and sometimes timid expression. Not the 
hard determined look on Mrs Milton's face. Or on her daughter's.

"I think we can take her out with us this Friday night. She'll be okay, 
don't you think."

"Friday night? How would someone as old as her get on with the clubs 
and bars? She'd just complain about the noise and the booze and the 
drugs and everything. And what if we pick someone up? What'd 
happen then?"

"Oh. Don't fuss so, Max. You don't think she didn't have much the 
same kind of time when she was our age? Well, before she married 
that bastard of a cunt of a husband as my fucking father, that is."

Maxine sighed. But she knew that if Misty had decided on a course of 
action then that's exactly what would happen.

And indeed it did. Misty's mother seemed absolutely delighted to be 
invited out and took the opportunity of the invitation to reveal a stash 
of coke she'd somehow got ages ago. And not bad stuff either, as 
Maxine could soon testify. And if she was worried about hanging 
around with young people, all young enough to be her own children, 
she didn't hint at it. But she made no effort to dress any differently to 
how a woman of her age might dress for a luncheon party or a sorority 
ball. Nor did Misty dress any different to how she did normally. 
Expensive, sexy and revealing. As Misty often commented, only those 
who could most afford expensive clothes could afford to show the 
most flesh. Maxine was slightly less provocative, rather less back and 
thigh showing, but obvious to everyone that she was a girl out for a 
good time, and who bloody well knew how to get it.

The bars and clubs that evening were as confusing as ever: a confusion 
exacerbated by a few choice lines and some vodka. There were Misty's 
and Maxine's weekend friends, loads of them, filling the bar they 
usually went to on a Friday or Saturday night, the lights glaring and 
flashing from all directions, smoke drifting over their heads, and the 
music booming out loud and steady from the huge speakers hoisted up 
on the walls. Maxine wondered what Mrs Milton would make of all 
this. She couldn't imagine her back in her suburban home listening to 
hard house or drum and bass. And she worried what she'd make of 
people like Georgina, whose nipple was already sticking out of that 
slim top, even though her breasts were actually quite small if anything. 
And what about the language? Maxine's own mother would have been 
rather upset by that. Especially when Julia started going on about 
tribadism, flat-fucking and fisting.

But Maxine became aware that Misty's mother was one who quite 
enjoyed swearing herself. She relaxed when she heard Mrs Milton 
comment that she'd sometimes felt like 'fucking Jane Horrocks' 
herself if the girl would let her. And she relaxed even more when she 
referred to Condoleeza Rice as a 'cunt' and Gordon Brown as a 'fuck-
faced shit'. 

The evening drifted onwards, from one bar to another, just as loud and 
twice as shitfaced, and finally, with the witching hour approaching, 
onto the clubs, which were just about heaving and ready to roll. Of 
course, they couldn't get anywhere really decent without queuing for 
hours, but even for a modest club they still had to stand for more than a 
quarter of an hour in the chilly night air, in woefully thin clothes, as the 
queue slowly wound its way in through the door and past the massive 
bouncers, one black and one white, that guarded the premises and 
occasionally frisked the odd suspicious looking punter.

As Maxine shivered next to Misty and her mother, she could see that 
the two of them were pretty thick in conversation: giggling and 
cackling and sometimes exploding into gales of hooting laughter. She 
was pleased to a certain extent, because it meant she could concentrate 
her attention on Sarah, a Scottish girl she'd not met before and who 
had ever such a pretty face. However, it didn't stop her regarding 
mother and daughter with envy. Maxine had never been as close as that 
to her mother. In fact, since she'd come out about her preference for 
women rather than men, her mother had become even more distant 
from her. And she wasn't sure that Misty mightn't actually be closer to 
her mother than she was to even Maxine herself. But Maxine reminded 
herself that it was good to see mother and daughter so close. It must be 
a comfort to Mrs Milton with all that divorce shit going on. And, of 
course, the thing about the business she'd built up with Misty's father 
having to be divided between them as well.

Once inside the club, things were going very well indeed for her with 
Sarah. What a darling accent she had! These Scots! Especially the ones 
from Edinburgh. Such precise, distinct vowels. Those thrilling trilling 
'r's. It wasn't long until Maxine surrendered to her passion, 
recognising that the little glint in Sarah's eyes wasn't brought on by E 
or blow or crystals or even alcopops. Her lips collided with Sarah's, 
the mouth opened just a little bit, and their tongues slid together, 
twirled around each other and their jaws ached as their mouths locked 
in place. It was all Maxine could do to keep her hands off Sarah's 
sweet, but rather large bosom. And she was sure that if she could just 
get a hand inside those tight little shorts, she'd find a vagina as messily 
liquid and gushing as her own.

Maxine could hardly hear the music, even though it was inescapable. It 
was the usual stuff, of course, pounding and grinding and pumping, 
just as she would be later with Sarah. But where would that be? Not at 
home with Misty's mother around. She detached her lips from Sarah's 
and looked about her. Where were Misty and her mother?

"Anything wrong?" asked Sarah with jealous alarm.

"Nothing. Just looking for Misty. You know. My mate."

"The one with her mum in tow?"

"Yeah! That's right!"

"That's them dancing over there!"

"Fuck!" swore Maxine. "You're right. Christ! She's game for such an 
old bint, isn't she? You'd never thought she'd get down to stuff like 
this."

"It's kicking stuff though!" Sarah laughed. "This DJ really knows how 
to cane them!"

"I guess so," remarked Maxine, who preferred to listen to rather more 
tranquil music at home.

As the night progressed, and things continued to go pretty well with 
Sarah, Maxine often caught glimpses of Misty and her mother together. 
It was always just the two of them. The rest of their crowd was just 
elsewhere, mingled and absorbed in the bigger mass of dancers and 
drinkers, though Maxine thought that Misty might have tried going 
after a boy or a girl or something. Wouldn't it just cramp her style 
being with her mum like that? Fuck it! She was gonna have her fun, 
even if Misty wasn't going to.

"Hey! Misty sweetest!" Maxine yelled in Misty's ear, an arm still 
round Sarah's waist, so bare and warm.

"Yeah! Wassat?" 

"I'm just leaving with Sarah here. We're off to stay at her place. She 
only lives a five mile cab ride away."

Misty's mother was sitting very close to her daughter. In fact, Maxine 
could see that her arm was right round her daughter's shoulder and that 
Misty had her arm around her mother's waist. Maxine quite envied 
Misty for her easy tactile intimacy with her mother, though she was 
sure that alcohol made the family ties seem stronger.

"Sarah inviting you back for coffee?" Misty's mother asked with a 
slight slur.

Misty smiled at her mother indulgently. "Shit, Mum! You know it's 
not a coffee that Max's going back for. Is it, Max dear?"

Maxine blushed slightly, even though it was fairly obvious that her 
intimacy with Sarah wasn't of the most innocent kind. "Errmm."

Misty laughed. "Max's going back for a fuck, aren't you? Isn't that 
right, Sarah sweetheart? That's what you and Max are gonna do?"

"I should fucking hope so!" laughed Sarah, pressing her tongue and 
mouth to Maxine's, to her slight embarrassment in front of Misty's 
mother, who, however, would have had to have been both deaf and 
blind never to have suspected that her daughter enjoyed intimate 
relations with Maxine.

"Well! Good luck, dear!" smiled Mrs Milton. "I hope you enjoy 
yourselves!"

"And give Sarah a good fuck for me!" laughed Misty, pressing her lips 
on Maxine's cheek.

Sarah was just as good as Maxine expected, although the passion sort 
of ran out after only an hour or so, and the two were slumped naked on 
Sarah's bed, with the sound of a train rumbling through the distance. 
Maxine regarded her lover more dispassionately. Her face was as sweet 
as ever, but she did have a furry birthmark on her thigh that was a little 
off-putting. And her ears were a funny shrivelled shape. And she was 
ever so short. Just like the girl with the ring in her eyebrow. And 
although not plump exactly, nowhere near as slim as darling Misty.

As so often happened when Maxine had made love with another 
woman she compared her recent conquest with Misty. Invariably, it 
was Misty who came out best from the comparison. Maxine truly loved 
Misty. She knew that. And at the moment, her heart was yearning for 
her best friend. She could imagine her sleeping alone in her bed. Only 
a vibrator or two to keep her company. She was so selfless letting 
Maxine go off and have fun with another woman while she stayed at 
home alone with only the company of her mother and perhaps some 
more blow. 

And then Maxine resolved to return home early. Although she'd 
normally have spent many more hours with Sarah, who was, after all, 
quite a pretty girl, she thought she'd leave in good time, to get home 
before Misty was out of bed. And then she would make up to Misty for 
spending time apart from her that evening. And the two of them would 
make that mad passionate love they enjoyed so much. And she would 
tell Misty how much she loved her. And how she really didn't mind 
sharing the same bedroom with her, as long as they could also share 
the bed together.

Sarah was a little distraught when Maxine left. "Please tell me you'll 
see me again," she pleaded at the door, while letting Maxine out into 
the Saturday morning street. "You've got my number, haven't you? 
Please call."

"I will!" promised Maxine firmly, intending to do no such thing, and 
then striding off, following Sarah's direction, to the nearest 
underground station. She blew Sarah a kiss as she rounded the street 
corner, preserving in her memory what she was sure would be her last 
sight of the girl she'd just been making love to, seeming somehow 
small in her bathrobe at the door of the extremely ordinary city house.

The leisurely crawl of a weekend morning followed her home, still 
wearing her evening outfit, hidden as best she could under her jacket 
and ignoring the lascivious stares of the men on the train. Although she 
quite enjoyed attracting their attention, she was terrified that they 
might think she had any interest, of any kind whatsoever, in them. And 
soon along more familiar streets, counting off the houses, as she came 
at last in sight of the house that contained the flat she shared with 
Misty.

She cautiously pushed open the door to the flat. She didn't want to 
wake up Misty's mother. Indeed, she didn't really want to arouse 
Misty. What she wanted to do was surprise her. To jump on the bed, 
pull off her clothes, say "Surprise!" in a seductive voice and for the 
two of them to then start making love together. Wouldn't that thrill 
Misty? And what better surprise could there be for a lover who had 
spent the night alone?

Maxine might have heard a kind of groaning, gasping noise before she 
pushed open the door to Misty's bedroom. If she had, she'd probably 
have dismissed it as sounds somehow leaking in from a neighbouring 
flat. She hadn't expected, however, to find two bodies on the bed she 
shared with Misty. Two naked female bodies at that. Entwined in a 
tangle of limbs and grinding groins. Clearly and unambiguously 
making love.

At first, Maxine thought it might have been a woman that Misty had 
met at the club. She was famous for her fast work. Maxine 
remembered that girl Misty had picked up at the bus stop that evening. 
One moment, she was just another stranger waiting for a bus. The next, 
Misty and she were pressed against each other in a wild passion that 
rather frightened Maxine at the time. But no! It wasn't someone Misty 
had just met. And her breasts were not the firm ones of a young girl, 
but those of an older woman. One old enough to be Misty's mother.

"Misty!" Maxine shouted in alarm. "It's your mother you're fucking 
with! You're fucking with your mother!"

Misty and her mother stopped abruptly, a dampness clinging to their 
chest where they'd perspired against each other and a different 
dampness around the crotch and at the top of the inside thighs. 

"Max! What the fuck?" Misty cried.

"You're fucking your Mum!" sobbed Maxine, already slightly 
regretting the hysteria that had crept into her voice.

"So?"

"It's your Mum?"

"I know. And I've been enjoying every moment of it. Haven't we, 
Mum?"

"Yes, we have, dear," said Mrs Milton with an indulgent smile, her 
arms around her daughter and her free hand stroking sensuously about 
the part of the crotch Maxine was sure no mother should touch so 
intimately.

"In fact, we should have done this earlier, shouldn't we, Mum?"

"Well, not when you were young, sweetest. That would have just been 
plain wrong!" laughed her mother.

Maxine stood there in front of Misty and her mother, feeling more like 
an intruder into her lover's privacy than she'd ever felt before.

"What about me?" she couldn't help asking, her voice feeling weak 
and a cloud of disappointment engulfing her.

"Well, you've said you wanted to have your own room back, Max," 
remarked Misty. "There's nothing stopping you from having it back 
now!"














