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One more, she says, tearing her mouth from his. One more.
Christ, he says, can we, can we just, as she’s unbuckling his pants, out here? For fuck’s sake Melissa –
One more, she says. Right here. Get up on the car. Now. Hiking up her short skirt clattering gold and brass and bronze about her wrists she strips a lacey white thong over her ass and down with savagely hurried jerks her long and bare brown legs unsteady on spindly heels.
Someone’s going to see, he says, his black pants lolling open as he hauls himself onto the hood of the Range Rover.
Who, she says, the scrap of underwear in her hand waving drunkenly about the driveway, the empty street, the high fence to the side. Her blond hair a cloudy halo about her shadowed face. My daughter’s home with a friend, she says, reaching into his pants for the pale thin stick of his cock. So just a simple stupid fuck on the car. She’s stroking, working his cock in both her hands. You give me just this one more and then you go home and maybe it’s enough and maybe I can finally get to sleep tonight. Maybe I’ll give you a tip in the morning.
He groans.
It’s so hot out here, she says, licking the dark bald head of his cock. I swear I could melt. Come on, Richie. Come on. Get hard. Get big and hard and I’ll climb up –
Fuck, he says, Melissa, and then he comes, a sudden great blurt from his half-stiff cock, splashing her face, her hair, a second dollop splattering her arm, the top of her thin white dress. She staggers back on her heels wiping come from her eye with the heel of her hand.
Oh fuck, he’s saying. Oh hell. Oh Jesus.
Staggering into the darkened kitchen she leans against the center island stripping one shoe off and flinging it through an arch into the dark room beyond. Wiping her eyes again with her fingers. Working the other shoe off with her toes. Underwear in one hand clutch in the other tight dress still rumpled up about her hips she staggers carefully from the kitchen through the arch. Fetching up against an alcove she fumbling finds a light switch. Glass bottles glitter and shine in the bright white spot. She pours a slop of something clear into a short glass, drinks it down, pours another slug. Tongs up some ice from the little freezer. Leans back against the bar, holding the glass up to her forehead. Shit, she says. Looking now at the glass in her hand cloudy with a splotch of come. Laughing quietly she smears it off the glass with her thumb, sluices her thumb across her forehead, dips it into her drink. Stirs it around. Licks it clean. Yum she says, with an ironic little snort.
In the hallway steadying herself with the hand holding the clutch against the wall shushing the ice whenever it clinks against the glass she stops at the sound of a sighing coo, a cooing sigh. The door she’s passed just open a crack. She wobbles back to it, presses the clutch against it, pushes it open a little more.
Stuffed animals scattered over the dark carpet, the white desk. A satiny sleep shirt, a black thong, a simple white tank top discarded here and there. The covers kicked aside, lopping off the bed where both girls lie entwined, asleep, naked except for Edie’s little white ankle socks, dangling over the foot of the bed. She’s lying on her back, one arm up behind her head, one arm tucked between Charlie’s legs, cupping her ass. Charlie’s feet up above Edie’s head lying on her side, her head pillowed on Edie’s belly, her long blond hair spread over Edie’s thighs, a hand laid there between Edie’s breasts.
After a long moment swaying there in the doorway she stoops and sets her drink between her feet. Pries her phone from her clutch. Fiddles with it, holds it up, a flash goes off, blaring bright the room for a split second. She blinks and shivers. Neither of the girls stirs. She steps closer to the bed, and the flash goes off again, and again. Edie squeezes her eyes shut, shifts her head to one side on the pillow. Again. Charley mutters something indistinct, takes a deep sighing breath, and her mother backs quickly away, manages not to knock over her drink, scoops it up and hurries down the hall.
Melissa Vanderhook sitting on the edge of her tautly made bed her thin tight dress pulled down from her breasts and up over her hips, one bare foot on the floor, one bare foot braced against the wall the bronze and gold bangles clattering about her ankle and her wrists her long bare legs spread her hand between her thighs her hips her shoulders rolling rhythmically as she strokes and strokes and slaps, grunting, her head tossing, her cloud of pale blond hair matted with sweat and come staring fixedly lips curled in a snarl at her toes painted blue on her brown foot against the creamy wall. Ice melting at the bottom of her empty glass on the nightstand under the reading lamp, the only light. Her phone on the bed by her hip the screen lit up with a picture, Charley’s guileless sleeping face lips parted in an almost kiss, Edie’s bare belly and her hip.
Groaning as her rhythm breaks her hips and shoulders falling out of synch her hand faltering she doesn’t seem to hear the toilet flushing down the hall. Spitting something not even words through her clenched teeth her bare foot pounding the wall shoulders locked shuddering her head flung back gasping eyes opening to see there in the doorway naked Edie in her little white ankle socks, sleepy eyes wide, one hand up over her mouth. Foot slipping from the wall convulsing over flopping to her side Mrs. Vanderhook falls from the edge of the bed to her knees on the carpeted floor. Pushes herself up on her feet, panting a little. Shoving her cloud of hair back and back, smoothing it with her hands. Heedless of her bare breasts, her bare cunt, her pubic hair a barely visible fluff of pale white blond about it. Edie’s still in the doorway but her hand isn’t over her mouth now, it’s tugging at her lower lip, and her other hand cupping the reddish brown curls at the bottom of her belly, her middle finger slipping along the lips of her cunt.
Her hand braced against the wall Mrs. Vanderhook makes her slow deliberate way to the door, to Edie in the doorway, to waver there before her, to put her hands on Edie’s shoulders, to duck her head and open her mouth just a little and kiss Edie’s mouth, her tongue pushing Edie’s fingers out of the way. Edie taking a sharp surprised breath in through her nose. One hand on Mrs. Vanderhook’s bare hip, one hand settling on the scrunched wrinkled band of her useless little dress, until suddenly Mrs. Vanderhook drops heavily to her knees before Edie kissing her belly and her little nest of pubic hair her hands on Edie’s ass now pulling her hips closer and up a little her chin between Edie’s thighs her mouth on Edie’s cunt and she sighs as Edie’s eyes close and her hands find the cloud of Mrs. Vanderhook’s hair the swatch of it still matted, tangled with what’s left of Richie’s come. Edie’s hips beginning to roll her thighs trembling one leg bending up on pointed clenching toes gasping bending over now staring wide-eyed at Mrs. Vanderhook eating her up as her belly clenches and jerks. Pushing back staggering back out into the hall fetching up against the wall and standing there a moment still jerking with the aftermath of it. Mrs. Vanderhook sitting back on her heels, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
I, uh, says Edie, and then she turns and hurries down the hall.
Mrs. Vanderhook lowering herself to the carpet on her side, smiling, eyes closed, rolling over on her back heels planted hips lifted up off the floor to meet her stroking gentle hands, sighing as something enormous washes over her.
Charley stirs, sits up, watches Edie buttoning the big clear buttons of the sleep shirt she’s put back on. Why are you getting dressed, she says, quietly.
Your, says Edie, your mom’s home.
It’s okay, says Charley
She saw me, says Edie, kneeling, grabbing her sleeping bag. I went to the bathroom. I was naked in the hallway and she –
She’s bombed out of her mind, says Charley. She always comes home blitzed. It’s okay. It’s okay. She won’t remember a thing in the morning. Come here. Come back to bed.
Edie stands.
Come on, says Charley, taking Edie’s hands in hers. Tilting her head up blond hair slithering down her shoulders and her back for a kiss and another kiss and another, Edie’s eyes open, swaying a little, her hands unmoving in Charley’s hands. I want some more, says Charley against Edie’s lips. I wanna do it again and again and again. I’m all, and she smiles and ducks her head, I’m all horny.
Slumber party sluts, mumbles Edie. Charley’s hands under the hem of her slippery sleep shirt now, on her ass, between her thighs. Wow, says Charley. You’re so, you’re so wet.
Yeah, says Edie, closing her eyes. Yeah, again, let’s, let’s do it again.