I hesitated. Somehow, the thought of baring my body before Terra struck me as taboo, after having brought myself off by listening to her swap oral sex with Hunter. I felt... dirty, really. The dark thoughts that had driven and consoled me up until then seemed to be on a lunch break, as I could find no redeeming value in stripping down in front of my Terra... nevermind the fact that I hadn't the slightest shade of panties beneath my skirt. Simply standing near her bed lit a fire in my belly, a fire that had infinite potential to spark off an inferno in my wanton womanhood. What would she think of her mother, then? I felt words sliding up my throat, a denial, surely an excuse for remaining clad and doing some housework instead.
"Sure honey, just a second."
Just a second? I was horrified... that was most certainly not a denial! No longer did I have the option of backing out of this, as I had just given verbal consent to my eldest daughter on the matter. My dignity, even the shadow of parental authority, stood in dire jeopardy! Or perhaps it didn't... but for some reason, those were the ideas that struck me in shortest order. I felt just the slightest, fleeting tingle flowing along the surface of my skin as my hands began to busy themselves with slipping my shirt up and over my head, leaving my hair a fluffy, wispy halo around my eyes. The braid came loose, and somehow the feel of those well-conditioned locks cascading down my back heightened the rising excitement at what I was doing. My notions of decency fled before a colossal flood of self-confidence, fueled in a thousand ways by the thoughts of how I could at last begin to reclaim my love for life, how I would soon rekindle my passion for the things I had left behind. The cool air felt fabulous against my exposed breasts, illiciting almost instantly the delicious sensations of my rosy-colored nipples elongating, growing rigid.
"Mom," I heard the voice as if it was a part of a waking dream, "hey Mom! You're spacing out on me, Mami."
I blinked. "Oh," came the brilliant murmur, "I'm sorry. I was just thinking of..."
"The waiter?" Terra glanced down at my attentive nipples and back up into my eyes, grinning out of the side of her mouth. "That's why we're here. I found the skirt, so hurry up!"
I smiled, giving her a quiet apology. I had come that far, and so I knew there was no reason to continue holding myself back. I reached down and tugged upon my own skirt, wiggling just so that my generous hips could slip free of the suddenly meaningless piece of material. The air that had felt so good against my chest felt positively amazing against my tingling center, and the thought struck me that there was no way I'd be getting to bed without visiting the shower head for a while that night. Another thought followed within a bare instant of the first, the notion of just how wickedly erotic it would be if I sent Terra away for a few hours, locked myself in her room, and fucked myself like a madwoman. To lie upon her bed, enveloped in vivid recollections of lust between Terra and Hunter... fantasy consumed me, and would have done a brilliant job of embarassing me had I not chanced a glance into her closet.
My eyes cleared. Terra and I practically shared a closet, as our separate rooms gave up a great deal of their former size to an expanded den. A sudden flash of memory flooded into my sex-soaked brain, the recollection that those two closets had once been a single unit before the need for space drove our ever-efficient contractors to split that entire room into two seperate bedrooms.
"Here you go," Terra announced, derailing my deviant train of thought as she tossed to me a skirt that looked a good two inches shorter than I those I normally wore. I held the garment up to the light, admiring the swirling pattern of midnight blue lines lazing all around the secretive ebon of the material. I stepped into it without hesitation, admiring the softness of its inner lining for a moment before donnning the shirt as well, and laughing as the velvet stretched to accomodate my winter insulation. Terra examined me from head to toe, noting the lovely coincidence of my casual heels' matching the outfit. I could see a slight sense of admiration glittering in her eyes as she led me to her armoir mirror.
"Look at you, Mom," she directed me without any particular need, "in a suit you look... uptight. With that long skirt you were wearing, not a soul on the planet could tell that you hadn't been wearing underwear," - dammit, she had seen - "but look. This outfit hugs your curves and accentuates them, instead of hiding them. Now, brush out your hair, and you'll be a knockout!"
I smiled, despite myself. I loved how my breasts looked all bundled up in that shirt, but didn't openly display the hardness of my nipples. I looked... maybe not younger, but most certainly more alluring, and I definitely felt younger.
"Thank you, Terra," I laughingly said, "I feel free already." I kissed her cheek and gave her hair a ruffle in the way that she had always hated as a kid. She gave my arm a swat before returning the hug. "Now, I've got some housework I really need to do, hon, so you can play your game, or whatever." Housework - my ass! I was headed straight for my closet to do a bit of reconnaisance.
Terra laughed as if she knew better. She probably did... my daughter is brilliant that way.
I had the next two days, Wednesday and Thursday, off from work. I called in anyway, to make certain that my particular brand of services wouldn't be required, and was informed by Domino (not his real name of course) that I needn't come in, but should keep my cell phone on in case things got sticky. I inquired as to why things 'might get sticky' and was told to my great surprise that my assistant Leah had called in sick to work that day. A hundred potential reasons for it passed through my mind, not one of which suggested any illness on her part, but I put those nightmares to bed in a hurry. I thanked Domino and hung up the house phone at exactly seven-sixteen o'clock in the morning.
The previous night had unlocked within me a patient, analytical, and more than a bit diabolical outlook on preparation. I had meticulously researched each and every aspect of what I planned to do, as well as studying my closet to delightful effect. In order to prevent a costly rebuild of the former large closet, a sheet of thin chipwood paneling had been installed to split it right down the center and form two smaller 'there's no way you're walking in' closets. When the outer doors were shut, one couldn't tell the difference at all, but when those closet doors stood open, I could hear with some clarity the things that went on in my daughter's room next door.
My plan carried along with it the same sort of simplicity, and much of the logic, behind a television cartoon. Terra departed for school every weekday morning at about eight-thirty in the morning, at which time I could generally be found shuffling papers at First and Trust Bank. I waited for her to leave, bidding her an affectionate farewell at the door as was the norm on my off days, and spent the next hour or so enjoying a fresh cup of french roast coffee, stretching, or reading the newspaper at varying intervals. The seconds ticked by like seconds that won't hurry the hell up and tick by, but I retained my composure and held my patience firmly in control. I wanted to give her enough time to be in class before I went about my clandestine agenda, as the last thing - the very last thing - I wanted was for her to decide to ditch class and discover my dark and very secret fetish.
At nine-thirty I headed into the closet with a small bag of tricks at my side. I worked swiftly to drill a silver dollar-sized hole in that flimsy wooden paneling, employing my lackluster carpentry skills at their absolute peak of mediocrity, so that a suitable view could be acquired from one end of Terra's room to the other. Above this hole I pinned a brown sock of tones closely matching the panelling itself, so that it could drape down and obscure the opening when not in use. The closet lacked lighting on either side, and so the sock may well have been moot, but I wasn't taking any chances. I certainly didn't want my daughter to find the last of my modifications and get the wrong impression.
I worked like a woman possessed so that within minutes, I had my video camera rigged perfectly into the closet. The television set in my room I connected by cables to the recorder, and... I'm sure I don't have to go into an excruciating amount of detail about what I'd done and would do with that. I knew very well, having thought over my daughter's behavior over the last several weeks, that she and Hunter had probably had sex more than once in that room, and I was willing to take a chance that they were doing it fairly often... at least enough to placate my newfound tastes. I checked and rechecked to make certain that the video feed functioned the way I had planned, and made several trips into Terra's room on inspection of the new hole in the wall. The camera lens, though slightly visible in direct light, blended well into the caliginous belly of the closet. I was set. All that I had to do was wait, and enjoy the forbidden fruits of my labor. I smiled at my untapped resourcefulness, laughing inwardly at just how forcefully I had embraced the perverted longings of the night before.
Hunter visited our house that evening. Upon learning this I made a point to order a sumptuous banquet of Chinese food, which I knew to be to his and Terra's tastes, and so I spent supper trying to steal glances at him while making the most innocent small talk. He was such a striking fellow... hair like bitter cocoa of the darkest seed, eyes that could consume a person's soul within their deepening, black voids, and a body upon which I could iron a shirt. He spoke little of his wrestling, being the modest type, although I asked quite a bit on the subject when Terra excused herself to the bathroom. If that young man knew just why I was so interested in his deltoids and gludes, he might have been more inclined to talk.
He and Terra retired to her room about ten seconds after I took to cleaning up our mess of greasy white and red boxes. I waited for a few minutes before going into my own room and locking the door, desiring no excuse for their suspicions. Butterflies churned in my stomach as I set the equipment to run and stretched out on my settee, eyes fixed upon the screen.
