"Hello. That you, Jennifer?" asked the familiar voice when Jenn answered the fifth ring of the phone.
"Who else, Denise?" she answered dilly. She was irked by the phoney coziness her next door neighbor had shown since a celebrity came to the Quinby house. Irked too that Celeste had accepted the invite to coffee when she called Denise to see if she could come by.
"We are just so thrilled. Did you know Celeste has offered my baby a role in Carmen? She's sitting right here beside me and I could just hug her for being so nice!"
"Which baby?" Jennifer didn't like Denise. She liked her even less after hearing Bryan's admitted passion for the woman and her twins. Nothing but Denise's deliberate teasing had gotten her son that hot for the neighbor trio.
"Pammy, of course." Denise's voice was saccharine. "She's the musical one of the twins. It's only a choreography bit behind a see-through scrim curtain, but it's a fabulous idea. Especially using Bryan. So daring!"
Jennifer couldn't agree more. But it was a must to divert what had mushroomed to repeated home crises of Bryan's youthful passion. Celeste had stayed perfectly calm as repeated incidents occurred. Somehow she assumed the fifteen-year-old would flip out and if anything, at times encouraged it.
"You don't mind her doing the dance with Bryan… in a bikini?" Denise arched worried eyebrows at her coffee kiatech guest, casually studying Celeste's fabulous figure, dramatic in the scanty sunsuit.
"Heavens, no!" Jennifer was impatient to end the conversation.
"I hear Time may even cover the first contemporary version of Carmen." Denise sighed enviously. "And that Mister-Atlas-bodied son of yours is just gorgeous. He's got an absolutely natural rhythm for the dungeon dance with Carmen."
"I think he makes a nice Don Jose," agreed Jennifer. "But I didn't know they had rehearsed yet."
"Over in our barn last night. I meant to call you. Old place looks like a prison dungeon and we have the music from Carmen for their dance while Celeste sings 'Pres des ramparts de Seville'."
"Good." Jennifer didn't like Denise for another reason. She liked to parade her culture. She liked also to parade her body in front of Frank Quinby and that was the beginning of other problems, unless Jennifer was naive. Blind was the last thing she was. "Will they rehearse there again?"
"Yes, tonight. Celeste said she'd come check their dance before going for her evening performance." Denise adjusted the halter of her bikini top as she spoke, knowing why it itched. She caught Celeste's smile and her voice was animated as she continued. "Why don't you and Frank come watch? Those kids are a pair! So sexy it drives me woolly."
"That's perfect for the scene then." Jennifer got her own chance to parade culture. "That's where Carmen seduces the corporal Don Jose and he lets her escape, isn't it?" Affected nonchalance. Jennifer knew exactly Celeste's plan. They had worked it out together.
Denise seemed barely to have heard and broke in excitedly. "Those two are so expressive. Maybe we two mommies ought to set up ground rules. Your son is very responsive to Carmen's wiles and he's holding my daughter."
"I don't understand," lied Jennifer. She was sure she understood all too clearly.
"Well, you know what Celeste wants is one scene straight dancing in the most intimate 'old fashioned' way… two-four time. The old fraternity clutch, as they swing and sway behind the peekaboo scrim. It winds up in simulated you-know-what. Pretty shocking stuff, but…"
"But nice," interrupted Jennifer. "Of course, having a son, Denise, maybe I don't have as much to worry about as having two daughters. But it's a new day and if you don't think it's offensive, I really don't mind how earthy or sensual they get. Isn't it nice they don't try to hide it from us?"
"I agree." Denise Pritchard sounded subdued. "And I'm really glad to hear you say that. That's why I called, to be sure it all had your permission. You know, watching those two pretend making it all the way at the end, is truly beautiful."
"Did you tell them that?"
"Mmmhhh, no. I kept thinking of your reaction. Bryan gets quite excited. And tonight they run through the really big scene where Carmen seduces Don Jose and runs him up the yardarm, tortures him and makes her escape."
"I'm familiar with the scene." Jennifer knew Celeste wanted that as her second behind-the-scrim eroticism. The private audiences for the weekend Carmen shows were the Chowder and Marching Societies of Boston and Hartford. Known for their earthiness and for their uninhibited frolics. Jenny quailed when Celeste broached the dance idea, but she agreed. One way to bring a lot of relationships to a head.
"Well, you're invited to come watch from our barnyard balcony," said Denise, fascinated by her neighbor's willingness to allow her son's libido free rein. "I'll be coaching those two through their dance and you can slip in to the upper deck through the south entry of the barn."
"I have an idea." Jennifer felt goosebumps of daring. "You know they'll be behind the scrim and Celeste will be singing center stage. Why not let them dance in the nude?"
"Jennifer!" Shocked seconds of silence followed. "Oh, you're thinking the magazine coverage might really get turned on by that, aren't you?"
"Partly. But I think it's a different age, too. We know our kids have it big for each other. Although Bryan isn't sure Pammy's mother approves of him."
"Whaaatt? Why, I love that boy!"
"Good. We love Pamela, too… and Sandy. If you don't object, I think it would be quite a wholesome step to treat the male/female relationship very naturally. And your Pammy has a stunning body. Just perfect for a nude dance sequence."
"One problem. There's that capture scene where she hoists Don Jose on the rope and whips him before she skips the prison of Seville. It'll seem a little anti-climactic, if they're clad for that."
"Has Bryan been told about Scene Two?" Jennifer felt her pulse quicken just to imagine her young Adonis dangling by his wrists before a whip-bearing nude. It would be quite the scene to see.
"Not yet. We're going to spring it on him when Celeste drops by and play it by ear. You really think in the buff is wise?"
"Of course. They can heighten the footlight power out front and that'll turn the action back of the scrim into a kind of mirage effect. Audience will see, but not be sure."
"Okay. We'll play it by ear. Jennifer, be a dear. Come watch from behind the scenes and give me the sign, if it goes too far. I'll break it up." Denise was the sweetest when she was most dangerous, thought the listener.
"I'm sure it may go too far," murmured Jennifer, stirring the drink at her elbow on the breakfast counter. "But I'd rather let the kids find their level, if you're willing."
"So be it, neighbor. Ta-ta."
Jenny replaced the phone carefully on the wall hook and nursed the before-noon Seagrams and Seven thoughtfully. A drinker she wasn't, but the week since her intimacy with her son had made it a fabulous comfort.
Picking Pammy Pritchard had been Jennifer's idea. So had been the proposed seduction dance and simulated torture scene. There was little doubt in her mind that it could trigger a lot more than simulated sex and she shivered at the thought. She knew she hoped it would. Ever since her incest with Bryan, she had lectured herself against the lust that continued needling her.
He belonged to some one else someday. He was a different generation. She was his mother. Everything added up to disaster, if she didn't stop the relation he never knew they'd had. The tremble became a shudder at the thought he might one day learn she had copulated with him while he was unconscious.
"Good!" she exclaimed half-aloud, thinking of Denise Pritchard's warning that it might go too far. Something dramatic like that was about the only way to shatter Jennifer's private lust for her son. But she didn't want to see it happen.
She had seen enough already around this house. Bryan was hardly believable in his heat for Celeste. For three successive nights he had made his stealthy way up the stairs and Jennifer had known it by the creak at the landing. She felt a mingling of jealousy and pity for Celeste, but there never was a hint in conversation at brunch that her house guest had had a nocturnal visitor.
An odd sort of uneasiness had crept into Jennifer's thoughts at the way her best friend kept the play between herself and Bryan out of their conversation. Not a hint of clandestine or of sneakiness or shame. That was what had Jennifer uptight and why she welcomed shifting the action over to Pamela Pritchard. She, at least, was one of Bryan's generation. And she lived next door.
A little more fire like last night's frolic and Jennifer could see her son leaving home to pursue Celeste wherever she went. That tragedy she was determined to prevent at any cost.
"Gracious, what next?" she moaned softly under her breath as she thought of the potentials of the upcoming play. It was both frightening and fun to anticipate.
At times she thought maybe it had been the worst thing in the world that Celeste had come to visit. But she knew it was overwhelmingly good. Good for her wife role with Frank. He'd become a wild love animal with her, unable to get enough. Sometimes two and three times a night. And for all the slightly uncomfortable worries about what happened with Bryan's frenzy for Celeste, Jennifer knew that was a good thing, too.
Her son had exploded into manhood and he was being taught by the one woman Jennifer knew she could trust. A female made for love. A girl with no inhibitions leading Bryan into the world of adult manhood without hangups.
It was a good thing, this dance and dungeon scene. It was Celeste's way of cutting Bryan loose on his own, breaking the closeness between them before she moved out to her next concert stop. And turning Jennifer's son into an accomplished lover was a very special gift from Celeste.
Jennifer knew she would have to be a hidden witness to the practice session in the barn. What it would be like to be that sexy thing next door and have the chance Pammy was going to have!
Unknown to Jennifer Quinby or Pammy Pritchard or Celeste, the choreography practice in the barn was perfect, as Denise Pritchard saw it. The chance to score a once-for-all wipe out of Bryan Quinby in daughter Pammy's eyes.
If there was one thing Pammy was, it was Now Generation. Denise knew she had hypersexed tendencies, but exclusively for her own generation. From Pammy's taunting of Sandy's sexual interests for older plus-thirty males, Denise was sure she would be vicious toward any male showing an attraction to females older than thirty.
That, suspected Denise, was just one more of Bryan's sexual problems. A nearly out-in-the-open incestuous heat for Jennifer by Bryan already had beep spotted by Denise. She knew from watching that Celeste had him turned on and Denise herself could turn the boy on at a glance. It would finish Bryan with Pammy if Celeste and Denise both got him on fire. Meanwhile her tacky nipples made no secret to Denise that Celeste was a turn-on for the lesby in herself.
The stage was set, thought a delighted Denise, showing an admiring Celeste from the first floor to the stairs of the second floor on a leisurely tour of inspection.
"I just love your home," praised Celeste.
"Oh, thank you." Denise's pat was casually open on the curve of Celeste's sleekly cushioned tail as she steered her guest toward the stairwell. "We're sorta functional, but we like it living here, too. Kind of an old farmhouse converted."
Celeste eyed her hostess quizzically. "Converted to what?"
"Everything three bright young girls of 1975 need. See, I include myself as young as my daughters." She laughed too brightly at her humor. "I want to show you the second floor. We even have a gym up here to keep toned up."
"How clever." Celeste followed the superbly stacked redhead into the converted guest room. "I would say the girls' mother keeps herself beautifully toned." She sighed enviously. "You and Jennifer! No one would believe you each have adolescent children. You look like adolescents yourselves."
"Oh, what a doll!" Denise flung grateful arms around Celeste's waist and hugged her close. "For that remark you can have anything in the place as my gift." The urgent grind of her vee against Celeste's pubic mound gave the word of the gift she most wanted to present. No reflex response from Celeste to the intimate hinting, and suddenly sure she had misread the vibrations between them, Denise hurried into the exercise room.
"Got everything here to trim down and shape up." She waved at the assorted exercise paraphernalia and watched the cuddly shapeliness of superstar Celeste as she moved nonchalantly from exercise horse to parallel bars to pull ropes attached to the walls. "None of it could improve your figure one bit," she said sadly, seeing play time evaporate.
"What do you keep in these drawers?" Celeste asked, turning to a built-in wall dresser.
"See for yourself. All kinds of things. Smart Belles – that's girls' dumbbells, and stuff like that." Denise felt her heart skip as Celeste bent to the bottom drawer. "Oh – oh! You would choose that one!"
Celeste looked up curiously. "You don't want me to open it."
"Go ahead. But it'd look strange to some. That's our sexercise equipment."
"What a cute name for it." Celeste opened the drawer and stared for a silent moment at the array of play penises. Half-a-dozen dildos in varying lengths and thicknesses, some erect with large dark crowns, others smaller – all of them stiffened neoprene flesh plastic, ready to entertain.
"Are you shocked?" Denise watched her guest's eyes.
"Of course not." She selected one pretend cock of twelve fleshlike inches rigged with a thin harness. "They look like fun."
Fun was the word Denise had been waiting for and she darted to where Celeste still bent to the drawer. Cupping an arm across the small of her back, Denise fingered the snap of her guest's sunsuit briefs suggestively. "Try one on! I'll show you how my two girls shocked me the other night. They pretended they were professional male wrestlers."
Celeste giggled happily at the ridiculous picture of wrestlers in an arena wearing erections. "You'll have to show me how it goes on. I've never… it actually feels like flesh."
Denise's fingers trembled when she released Celeste's panty snap and drew undies and sunsuit panties down across the smooth thighs. There was absolutely no self-consciousness in Celeste and it was a disarming sensation for Denise who usually found the females she wanted reticent at first. Still nothing in Celeste gave away an innate lesbian nature.
"Now, Pammy put hers on like this. Fact, this is the one she used." Denise attached the thin belt around the hips and through Celeste's thighs. When she tightened to snug the dildo in place, she was sure there would be a gasp at the intimacy. None came. Warm, soft pussy flesh yielded to the light pressure of Denise's knuckles as she adjusted the realistic cock low on Celeste's vee mound. Tempted out of control, she pressed lightly under the dildo, depressing the cunty cleft slightly.
"Nice," murmured Celeste, watching the top of Denise's flame red hair. Her voice was tense. "I've often wondered how men felt wearing one of these."
"Go look at yourself." Denise nodded toward the full-length mirror along the wall. "But first you have to take off everything to get the full effect." She tugged the halter bow and abruptly Celeste's magnificent breasts were bared as their cover drifted to the floor. "You are gorgeous!" breathed an awed Denise, staring at the carved perfection of the cream ivory globes.
"Let me see you in one." Celeste strolled in brazen exhibition of her torrid nudity, sensing the fierce animal lure of being a cockswoman. In the middle of the room she walked the length of the exercise mat, watching wide-eyed as the frighteningly real cock mounted atop her pubic mound swayed awkwardly to each step.
Denise stripped quickly and mounted a smaller version of the phallus, then hurried to join Celeste now studying herself quizzically in the mirror. "Aren't we beautiful?" demanded Celeste, catching an arm around Denise's waist to hug her close, then staring at the weird attachments to fantastic female bodies reflected in the mirror. "Did you say your girls wrestle wearing these?"
"They do till one or the other of them is overcome – either shoulder pressed to the mat. Or else dildo pierced. Now are you shocked?"
"I don't understand, shocked. It sounds like a nice game between girls. Show me." Dark hair tumbling across one shoulder, nipples hardened with excitement at the way the two of them looked, Celeste was obviously ready to be shown.
"Anything goes!" Denise circled her curvaceous adversary warily, one arm reaching tentatively for a hold while Celeste tried to copy her wrestler's crouch. "You can wrestle legally, hammerlocks and all that. Or you can use anything you've got to subdue your opponent." As she said it, she kicked suddenly, spilling Celeste in stunned surprise to the mat and falling quickly across her wriggling nudity to spreadeagle her in instant near victory.
"Ohhhh… dirty tricks!" screamed Celeste, grappling for an armhold and coming up with a handful of red hair which she instantly released.
"You make it too easy to beat you!" squealed Denise, grabbing an exposed arm and dragging a wriggling make-believe man back from near escape.
"Just to get you off guard!" Celeste's hands planted boldly on two vulnerable breasts, fingers squeezing the firm boob flesh with just enough authority to instantly terrify Denise. Her one fear in wrestling play with her daughters was assault on her front. Almost like male castration fear, she was traumatized by any threat to her explosive globes. She gaped now in genuine fear at the clawlike femininity of the fingers clutching her tender ripe titties.
Celeste caught the alarm in the other's expression and capitalized instantly. Squeezing the tempestuous targets and letting two over stimulated nipples creep into view between her fingers, Celeste drove her hostess back, almost ruthlessly deepening the arch till Denise's long hair spilled in disarray on the mat behind her. Violent spasms were quivering through Denise's straining body, telegraphing she was on the edge of orgasm.
"Look at us!" she hissed, catching their image in the wall mirror. "We're wild!"
Denise looked through blurred eyes at the mingling of their bodies. Beautifully tapered legs entwined, breasts thrusting arrogantly toward each other's, hips rolling restlessly… and there, pyramiding in maddening contradiction to the bodies wearing them, two fierce cocks pointed red-capped and angry at each other.
"Surrender?" demanded Celeste, forcing Denise's shoulders closer to the mat.
"Never!" She writhed and wriggled and was almost free of Celeste's clasp when suddenly, shuddering violently, she wilted back against the mat, staring in paralyzed delight down the gapping between their bodies. Celeste's dildo had ramrodded Denise's to one side to make way for its greater need.
"My God, Celeste, darling… you… you're fucking me!"
A lock of dark hair tumbled loosely, obscuring one eye, but the rest of her lovely hair was behind her shoulders, so nothing hid the fabulous femaleness of Celeste as she hovered over the tantalizing wonders of Denise. Bold and fully in command, buried in the welcoming cunty cleft of a panting redhead, was the cock on Celeste's front.
With steady commanding strokes, the play prick impaled its victim. Sleek tapered legs crept around Celeste's hips and scissored at her waist. Arms circled her neck to draw her tight in fierce copulating embrace. Slow, steadily increasing rhythm of coitus. Low moans of mutual joy as the friction of the dildo excited Celeste's vulva, even as it tortured Denise's vagina. The base of her fake cock ground mercilessly back against Celeste's pudendum, maddening her clit, and suddenly it was Celeste who was in orgasm.
"Oh… ohhh, dear God, YES!" She humped wildly into the welcoming pussy, letting the come spasms take her, knowing for the first time the way it is for a man when coital need overwhelms self-control.
In end-over-end climaxes, contorting and straining, breasts and hips mashing, arms and legs entwining in the fever to get at each other, the delectable pair let come frenzy take them.
Was it five minutes… thirty… an hour? Whatever, they lay spent and panting lightly for air as they stretched exhausted on their backs. It was Denise who finally moved. Rolling onto her tummy and hunching to rest her weight on her elbows, she looked down at her playmate. "You wrestle very well," she said softly, leaning to press a kiss on Celeste's cheek. "If you didn't give me a baby, it wasn't your fault!"
Peals of laughter from a convulsed Celeste, then abrupt silence. "Let's talk about Bryan and Pammy's rehearsal tonight…"