Misty's Family Ties

"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!"