I had been sent on assignment to attend the showing of a new film. I told Dad that I would be spending the night in the city because the cast would be open to interviews after the movie. It didn't come off that way. Only a few of the members showed up and I really didn't get anything worthwhile so I decided to drive home after the interviews.
Actually it was a really good show, good plot and very close to being rated an X. They touted it as an R but I was skeptical about that. Driving home I passed the time reliving the past few years of my life. Mom had been an actress of sorts. Never a headliner, but always close to it.
She was beautiful by any ones standards and between doing movies, she would fill in modeling. That's how Brittany and I started out modeling. We are only a year apart in age and blessed with good shapes, so with a little help from mom we began making money for college by modeling lingerie for some of the more risquΓ© catalogues that companies send out.
Both of us wear the same size clothes so we were always trading off. Both of us are blondes and have the same figures. 35C breasts, 24 inch waists and hips that are a bit large at 32 inches. Working hard, we've both been able to keep our weight at around 135 to maybe 140 tops. I'm 5'7"; she's a bit shorter at 5'6".
Anyway when mom died we had to decide between a career, and going to college. Dad was all for the college thing but we both took the other option, a career. I work a TV news show and will soon be its anchor. Brittany moved out west and began a business as a designer. With Dads financing she opened her own business and is quite successful.
Now I should explain that when our real father passed away, mom remarried after several years. Dad is some thirteen years younger than mom was and both Brittany and I really were closer to Dad than mom. She was always off to Europe or somewhere and Dad really raised us. Mom would show up for a few weeks now and then to show her face, but it was a strained relationship. We called her "the iron butterfly." Quite frankly I suspect she cheated on Dad quite a bit because she seemed to be a bit oversexed and sometimes demanding in that department. She couldn't last too long without being fucked.
When she was home she was constantly after Dad to take her to the bedroom and to be perfectly frank, sex with her was noisy. Britt would listen to them going at it all night long and sometimes we would both sit in her bedroom and wonder what they were doing.
Sure, it was exciting just to listen and wonder what was happening, and that's when we began to confide our innermost thoughts to each other. Finally one afternoon Britt asked me to her bedroom and showed me a small hole she had made in the back of her closet.
From there you could see almost the whole master bedroom and we waited for the butterfly to drag Dad to her bed.
She was demanding. We watched, as teens often do, as they made love. Mom always strutted around play acting before they would do anything. I mean she liked to role play. But always she was a tease and would end up lying on her back with Daddy between her legs, kissing her pussy. Or that's what we thought at the time. He would spend a good half hour doing that and all the time mom was cumming. I mean she was really bouncing around and making all sorts of moaning and sobbing noises. When she was satisfied, she would suck on Daddy's cock. But we really never got to see too much of that because she would be down on her knees with her back to us blocking our view.
Sometimes she would make him lay on his back and she would straddle him, facing away, then slide his cock in her and fuck herself on it while watching herself in the full length mirror on the closet door. Other times she would kneel and have Dad go up against her back side. That was when she would be the loudest. Then there were times when she would lay on her back and put her legs on Dad's shoulders and he would go in her. But all the time she was in control, telling him what she wanted, and telling him to go deeper or faster and all that. In the end she would always urge him to cum for her. Mostly he was supposed to finish in her but sometimes she liked him to back off and squirt on her tummy or on her back. Then she would sort of rub it over her breasts or lick her fingers.
About that time we learned about our own bodies and watching them do it was exciting, and I would leave and go back to my room and use my fingers to fuck myself.
After a while I didn't even do that. I would stay in her room and we would both masturbate until we were exhausted. I don't know what Britt was thinking about when we did that but I was always imagining that Dad was fucking me.
Anyway, Brittany had been sending Emails about her affairs and how disappointed she had become with her relationships. I had been dating and to be honest, I'd gone to bed with four or five guys I had gotten close to, but each time I would get hot enough to really cum, it turned out the same. The guys always expected me to suck them off first. Sometimes they would cum and it would be all over and they were useless. One actually shot all over a very expensive black sheath that I was wearing after a party and I had to wash it out before sending it to be cleaned.
If they didn't cum prematurely, then it all went too fast anyway. They would finish before I was even half way ready. I would always wait until they went to sleep and quietly masturbate until I was satisfied.
Apparently Brittany had the same experiences and she finally asked me if I remembered how mom and Dad used to always satisfy each other. Then in one of her Emails she wrote: Tiffany, I don't think I'm ever going to be satisfied.
Just because a guy is good looking, doesn't excite me anymore. In all the times I've been fucked, not once did any of them want to go down on me and eat me or do all the things Daddy did with mom.
Have any of your dates ever spent the time to really do that? I mean eat your pussy and care about what you're feeling? Has any guy ever made you cum by fucking you? I think sex stinks. I might even consider going to bed with a women. At least she'd know what a woman needs.
I had to agree with her. Guys were all for themselves, at least all the young guys I had dated. Even their conversations were basically "me, me, me," and rarely anything else. They were all bumbling clods. I was about to give up too.
Then it happened, and I wrote Brittany that I had finally found the perfect lover. She decided to take a vacation and return home to meet him.
Turning the corner I arrived home and I saw Brittany's convertible in the driveway. I rushed in to greet her. She was sitting at the kitchen table chatting with Dad.
She had found the bottle of brandy and she was slurring slightly as she stood up and cooed, "welcome home Tiffany, Dad and I have been catching up on things. Did you know he's thinking about dating again? It been almost a year and a half since mom died. About time don't you think?"
I nodded yes and changed the subject. Actually I had been trying to convince him that it was too soon to start dating.
Another hour of chit chat and Dad left for his room. Brittany took my arm and walked with me to my bedroom and closed the door. Hers was next to Dads and he might hear us.
"So tell me about this mystery man of yours. How did you meet him and is he really the super great lover that you've been looking for?"
I took a deep breath and began. "You know, I got to thinking. Britt and I came to the conclusion that we're looking for Mr. Right in the wrong age group. Older men, ones who have good marriages or have come from good marriages are better lovers. That's why they're all take.
So I changed the way I've been thinking. Who would you think would be the best lover that we've ever known? Who do we compare our dates to? Who do we know about that we would want to clone if we could?