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View Full Version : Vicky And Her Drunk Mom: Chapter 3



lilgia
07-05-2008, 08:33 AM
I'm Vicky.

This morning I found out, quite by accident, that I had some sort of control over my mom's mind--at least when she was drunk. She would do whatever I told her to do (or whatever anyone else told her to do, for that matter). And since she was drunk most of the time, I could honestly say that I was one lucky little bitch. Imagine, 13 years old and able to tell my mom what to do and when to do it!

Well, it didn't take long for my puberty-driven imagination to run wild. By mid-afternoon I had dreamed up some very naughty plans. And by early evening I was ready to put those plans into action.
First, I called up my mom's best friend, the one who took her out partying every Saturday night. And I told that bitch that my mom was too ill to go out tonight, that mom was going to go to bed early and get some rest. She said "Shit!", then she said "Okay, thanks for calling," and hung up.

Fuck her.

Next, I went up to mom's room and found her sucking on a bottle of gin while rummaging through her underwear drawer. She was stark naked and still wet from her shower (her second shower of the day--the first one was to wash the homeless man's piss and cum off of her, though I'm sure she didn't even remember that). The warm smile and greeting she gave me, and the pleasant way she was moving about, told me that she had only one thing on her mind: PARTEE!

With some guilt I said: "Your friend just called. She said that she can't make it tonight. She said she's too ill. She's going to stay in bed and get some rest. She'll see you next weekend."

Mom said "Shit!", slammed the underwear drawer shut and sat down heavily on her bed, gin bottle to her lips.

I left her like that, went and took a bath, then pulled on a pair of clean white cotton underpants and returned to my mom's room. The gin bottle was empty and lying on the floor. She was stretched out on the bed, still naked, eyes closed. I couldn't help but smile as I sat down at her vanity dresser and began to apply makeup.

By the time I was finished I looked at least 20 or 21. I was sure of it. Red lipstick. Dark eyeshadow. My mom's sexy fake lashes. A little color to my cheeks. And my blonde hair done up in a little bun. Fuck, I was one hot little chick. If mom was sober right now, she'd slap the shit out of me and make me wash it all off.

Mom. I went to her underwear drawer and fished out the tiniest black thong. Hell, I thought, how could this possibly fit my mom. It fit me nicely however, and I tossed my own underpants aside.

In her closet I rummaged through her old clothes, ones that were too small for her now but that she had never bothered to throw out. I was almost as tall as she, but skinnier. Still, I soon found what I was looking for. A sleeveless red dress. Very light and flimsy, almost transparent. It would show a lot of cleavage and a lot of leg, and would fit my narrow waist just fine. I wriggled into it, made the proper adjustments, and saw in the mirror that it was smoking hot. Then I gasped aloud when I realized that anyone staring hard enough could see my black thong and my skinny white ass clearly through the sheer fabric. "Wow!" I said.

My mom's small feet even made it possibe for me to find a pair of matching red pumps that fit. "Fuck me" pumps. I fell in love with them.

When I was finally able to tear myself from the mirror, I found a nice short dress for my mom, one that showed off her sexy legs. (And if she ever made the mistake of bending over, it'd show off her ass too.) Panties and heels completed her outfit. A brush and a touch of lipstick made her beautiful. And dark glasses hid the fact that she was drunk as a skunk.



In the cab I told the driver to take me and "my friend" someplace nice where we could buy drinks and have a good time. He said don't you know any good places, and I said no, I'm new in town, you pick a place for me. (Shit, what the fuck did I know about bars and nightclubs. I was only 13. But he didn't need to know that. As far as he knew, we were just two chicks out on the town on a Saturday night. And weren't all cabbies supposed to know the best nightspots.)

Anyways, the cabbie turned in his seat and looked me and my mom up and down, his eyes lingering over my mom's long legs and exposed thighs and feasting on my barely covered pouting breasts. He really thought I was a grown woman and I loved it, but my mom just snuggled up against me on the seat, as if she were ready for bed. He grinned at that then turned back around and said, "I know just the place for you two."

Thirty minutes later he dropped us off on the seediest street I had ever seen in my life. It was a far cry from my safe suburban neighborhood. We stepped over the bum in the gutter, sidestepped someone's vomit on the sidewalk, walked past the hooker and her pimp, and entered the bar that the cabbie had told us we would love.

It was dark inside, so dark I bumped into several tables before I could see well enough to find an empty booth in the corner. It didn't help that I had to guide my mom along like a blind beggar drags around an unwilling child. And it was smoky too. Cigarette smoke drifting cloudlike through the air. I had to force myself not to cough and show my true age. But we got settled down in spite of it all, and in no time the waitress came and took our orders--white wine for me and a gin and tonic for my mom, with me doing the ordering--me, 13 and playing dress up, and having a ball.

Ten minutes after our drinks arrived I was shitfaced and laid back. Mom was even drunker than before, if that was possible. My young eyes were finally used to the dim light, and with soft music playing in the background I took time to observe my surroundings.

This bar looked like all the bars I had seen on tv. Several women sat on bar stools, sipping drinks and talking to one another. More women sat at tables and booths, in threes and fours, drinking and laughing and having fun. Here and there, women sat in twos, drinking and talking in low voices--and sometimes holding hands. In the middle of the room
couples were dancing, slow dancing, and the couples were all women. On second thought, this bar was not like all the bars I had seen on tv.

That fuckin' cabbie! I could wring his fuckin' neck!

Nervously, I continued to sip my wine while trying not to make eye contact with anyone. When the glasss was empty I barely noticed when the waitress came and filled it again. She refilled mom's too, saying something about them being paid for by the woman in the next booth. I barely heard her, I just kept sipping, too nervous to stop. What was I thinking. I only wanted to have a little fun. To get out of the house on a Saturday night and see what it would be like to be a grown up. Just something to tell my friends about and have a big laugh afterwards. Here I was dressed like a slut, all grown up, wanting desperately to flirt with some guy, an older guy, wanting a man's attention. . . . And there wasn't a man in the room!

I went to take a piss. My head spun and my knees wobbled, but I somehow made it to the bathroom, still careful not to make eye contact with anyone. Happily, I didn't get raped or molested along the way. And no one tried to enter my stall while I had my panties down. But when I came back out I got a shock that I'll remember for the rest of my life.

In the middle of the room, amidst the dancing couples, stood my mom, firmly in the grasp of a tall thin redhead. They were slow dancing. Mom, with her arms around the redhead's waist and with her head resting on the woman's shoulder. And the redhead, with her hands boldly up inside my mom's dress, clutching my mom's asscheeks. Their pelvises ground together in rhythm to the music. Their breasts flattened against one another's. The redhead, in a short cowgirl skirt and tight tee shirt, was clearly in control, guiding my drunk mom around the dance floor by her ass, while whispering in her ear.

What the fuck! I said to myself. I grabbed the bar stool for support then picked up someone's discarded drink and finished it in one gulp. Again I asked myself, What the fuck?

I watched for several minutes. I still couldn't believe it. Their bodies were pressed together so close it was like the redhead was fucking my mom right there on the dance floor. And who knew what she was doing with her hands. I could see them moving here and there beneath my mom's dress. But the whispering was what worried me the most. What was she saying to mom? What was she telling her?

Whatever it was, the redhead soon guided my mom right off the dance floor and through an open doorway into a back room that was even darker than the main bar room. And as she led my mom away, she slid her hand up to mom's waist in such a way that she lifted mom's dress up above her ass and showed everyone in the room mom's dissheveled panties. She
was letting everyone know that my mom was going to be her bitch.

I stood there for a second, dumbfounded, then made my way to that doorway and went through it. It was like walking into a cave at midnight. I couldn't see shit. And all that wine was making my head spin. I bumped against bodies. Tripped over more bodies. Fended off roving hands that tried to discover what was beneath my pretty red dress. The hands were delicate and soft--women's hands.

I backed up against a wall, reached out with both hands to steady myself, the wine kicking in real good now. I could hear soft moaning and grunting all around me, gasping and heaving breathing. From the floor. From the various lounge chairs and sofas. From hidden corners. There was the rustling of clothes. The sounds of wet kisses. Flesh slapping against flesh. Sucking sounds. Someone cried out in orgasm. Then someone grabbed my ass and buried their face in my crotch.

I cried out at the hot breath that was scalding my little pussy. I looked down and saw someone's head beneath my dress. I felt their hands clutching my asscheeks. My thong had been rudely pushed to the side so the woman could get to my pussy, and she got to it good. I cried out again, then spread my legs wide.

Whoever it was, her grown up tongue was like sandpaper to my 13-year-old cunt. I trembled all over, drooled like a baby. She licked up and down my little crack, slobbering wetly. I listened to the nasty lapping noises even while my cunt was burning. I gritted my teeth and groaned again and again. I found myself rising to the balls of my feet, pushed upwards by that woman's hot tongue.

Women were fucking and getting fucked all around me. My mom was somewhere among them, getting her drunk ass fucked too. But I wasn't thinking about any of them right now. I was on fire. My cunt was throbbing with heat. This dyke knew just what she was doing, and she was doing it just fine. I reached down and grabbed the back of her head, which was still hidden beneath my dress, and thrust my little pussy into her face, wanting more.

She gave me what I wanted. Her hungry mouth engulfed my young pussy, and I felt all of her heat. My tender flesh was scorched. She sucked and sucked, lewdly, nastily. My head spun crazily. My knees buckled. I held tight to her head to keep from falling, while her hot lips sucked on my pussy.

Soon my juices were dripping down my inner thighs, mingled with her spit. I began screaming, begging for it. She seemed to realize my desperation, and she immediately thrust her tongue up into my virgin hole as far as it could go. She tongue fucked my virgin pussy with abandon, while I bucked my little ass uncontrollably, slapping my asscheeks against the wall and smacking my cunt lips against the woman's face.

Just when I thought I was going to die from the bliss, she gave my little clit a tender bite, and I rewarded her with a mouthful of my sweet young juices. I spasmed again and again, flooding her mouth and soaking her face. I could hear her lapping and licking and swallowing greedily. But before she could get it all, my skinny legs gave out and I collapsed to the floor in a heap, still spasming.

As the spinning and the spasming subsided and my eyes slowly began to focus, I noticed for the first time that my dyke lover wasn't alone. Someone was stuck to her from behind, doggiestyle. Someone wearing a strap-on dildoe, the business end of which was buried to the hilt in my dyke lover's bushy cunt. That someone leaned towards me, wiped several strands of red hair out of her eyes, and said: "This is one hot lady. The best fuck I ever had. But I felt guilty stealing her away from you while you were in the john. So when I saw you follow us in here, I just told her to grab you and eat the shit out of your little pussy. I ordered her to give you the licking of your life. I felt that that was the least I could do. And it looks like she did just that. Strange woman. She doesn't talk much, but she does whatever I tell her."

I didn't say much either, after that. In fact, I didn't say anything. I couldn't. My heart was stuck in my throat. I just watched the redhead pull that long black dildoe out of that hairy cunt then get to her feet and walk off to find another willing hole. After she was gone, I hesitantly lifted my pretty red dress to reveal a very familiar and sopping wet face. My jaw fell to the floor.

"MOM!"




END OF CHAPTER 3

davesmistress
07-05-2008, 06:26 PM
Thanks for the new addition