A PERFECT FALL 2018: A Suburban Mom

3. COFFEE OR PUSSY

Martin fucked me a couple more times that week, each time while I was in thigh highs, and each time he made certain I came, and I had to thank Amy for the rejuvenation of our sex life.

She'd invited me over for coffee on Wednesday; I'd taken a medical morning off from school for a 9:30 physical, and had arranged to show up for a late morning coffee before going to work for the afternoon.

By now I didn't knock, but just walked into her home calling out, "Amy."

She called back, "I'm in the living room, Jess."

I walked into the living room and was completely caught off guard. Amy was lying on the couch with her legs spread open and had our mailwoman between her legs licking her pussy. Amy, acting as if nothing was unusual, greeted me casually, "Good morning Jessica. Your coffee is on the kitchen counter."

I couldn't move. Amy smiled and asked, still acting oblivious to what was happening, "So how was your doctor's appointment?"

"Um... I... is Sarah eating you out?" I said, Sarah being our mailwoman long enough for me to know her by name.

Amy responded with just the softest moan, "Yeah, and she's quite good at it. Grab your coffee and sit down, Jessica."

I paused for a few moments, then went to the kitchen and found my coffee. I considered leaving, but somehow felt compelled to return to the living room, which I did and sat down as if I weren't witnessing a live-action lesbian encounter. For the next couple of minutes Amy chatted to me about the weather and next week's party she was hosting, as if having a girl between her legs was the most natural thing in the world. Amy then paused her monologue and said to me, "Just a sec, honey." She then got boisterous and nasty, "Oh yeah, you eager little cunt lapper. Show Jess how good you are at munching twat. Show her how much you love my young, ripe, black pussy."

It was the first time I'd ever heard her use a racial term.

Amy looked at me with a smile, before pulling Sarah's face up and away from her vagina, "Say hi to Jessica."

I assumed Sarah would be mortified at being caught in the act, but she replied, turning her head to look at me cheerfully, her face agleam with what were obviously Amy's vaginal fluids, "Hi, Mrs. Jamieson. I have a parcel for you to sign for later."

"Um, okay," I said, even more baffled at the complete casualness of what I was witnessing.

Amy continued, "How badly do you want to eat my cunt, slut?" holding Sarah's eager face away from her vagina.

Hearing Amy call Sarah a slut was just another bewildering moment. I couldn't have imagined Amy calling another woman that, and I couldn't fathom Sarah tolerating being called one. Yet obviously I'd just witnessed both. The surprises kept coming with Sarah's response.

Sarah declared, looking back at Amy, "I need your cunt cum so fucking bad, Mistress."

Mistress? I thought to myself, the dominoes of stunned shock tumbling one after another.

"And you'll do anything for some black pussy, won't you?" Amy questioned, again looking directly at me with a big sexy sly smile on her face.

"Yes, Mistress," Sarah nodded, "anything," her tone sounding desperate, like she had to have her face buried in that vagina right here, right now.

"And if I asked you to eat Jessica right now?" Amy questioned, still keeping Sarah's eager tongue at bay.

"I'd crawl between her legs and eat her cunt until she came all over my slut face," Sarah instantly agreed, again looking back at me.

I imagine she saw the look of absolute astonishment as I listened to her stunning offer.

"Would you like Sarah to come and get you off, Jess?" Amy asked.

"What? No!" I said, again surprised by the offer.

"She's a lot better than any man," Amy revealed before adding, "all girls are."

"No thank you," I graciously declined, even though I'd be lying if I told you my vagina wasn't on fire. Yet I would never cheat on Martin... not even with another woman.

"Okay," Amy said, "don't say I didn't offer," before she grabbed the back of Sarah's head and pulled it deep between her legs as Sarah cried out in gratitude.

Sarah resumed licking and I watched like a voyeur... knowing I should look away, or walk out, but my butt was cemented to the chair... my eyes unable to break away.

Amy moaned and repeated a theory I'd never heard before today, "No one eats pussy like another woman, Jess."

"I believe you," I answered, watching Sarah's eagerness as her head moved up and down. Her whole body seemed somehow to be involved in the task at hand... or should I say at tongue.

"I don't think you really understand why though," she continued, "men suck cock better than women, and women eat pussy better than men... it's because we understand our own anatomy."

Hearing her mention guys sucking guys had me amused and shocked: I'd never considered such an act. I mean I knew there were gay men, but that's about it; I'd never contemplated what that might mean in terms of physical activity. I finally said, "I can't imagine men sucking men."

Amy continued, somehow able to hold a conversation while getting pleasured, something I sure couldn't do, "It's a lot more common nowadays."

"If you say so," I said, having had no experience or even conversations about gay men... or lesbians... until apparently now.

"Give me a moment," Amy said courteously to me, before grabbing Sarah's head with both hands and beginning to grind her body up and down on Sarah's face. "Nnnnnnnnnnnnn!"

I still couldn't break away my frozen stare... in complete awe of what I was witnessing.

Yes, it made me wet.

Yes, it was incredibly hot.

No, I didn't want to be Sarah or Amy... although part of me was indeed curious about both roles... never having been curious about it until witnessing it right now... although the brief kiss with Amy last week had never completely left me... her lips so much softer than Martin's ... that kiss, seemingly innocent and playful, had been somehow equally sensual and stimulating.

My brief reminiscence of the kiss was broken when Amy got verbally abusive, which seemed so humiliating, yet somehow was also undeniably hot (even though I couldn't explain why... if anyone said such things to me I'd freak out).

"That's it bitch, suck my juices, show Jess how dirty a cunt lapping slut you are," Amy wickedly ordered.

Hearing my name included in the abusive torrent somehow made it hotter, even though I still couldn't explain why.

I wasn't a lesbian.

I'd never considered eating another girl's vagina... shit, until last week I didn't even want my own licked... although Martin had done it twice since that fateful night and I can't deny it... I loved it.

"Oh yeah, slut, eat me, suck on my clit, get me off, you dirty cum slut," Amy babbled, clearly close to her own orgasm.

I focused on her facial expressions, hypnotized by her beauty, as she screamed, as her orgasm finally hit, "Oh yeah, yes, yes, fucking YES!"

Amy's back arched, her hands let go of Sarah's head and she trembled, clearly coming all over Sarah's face. I'd be lying if I pretended my own vagina wasn't dripping wet at witnessing such a hot, surreal, sex act.

I remained seated, watching Amy's cum until she opened her eyes and said, "God, I needed that."

Sarah remained between Amy's legs, lapping up the girl cum which she obviously found delicious, until Amy asked again, "Jess, you sure you don't want Sarah to eat your pussy?"

Sarah turned around to me, her make-up ruined, her face really wet and glistening. "Please say yes, Mrs. Jamieson."

"Um, no thanks," I replied, even though I definitely felt the need to come.

"Your loss," Amy shrugged, pulling her skirt down and waving Sarah away, "Okay Sarah, you may go."

"Thank you, Mistress," Sarah responded before adding, "I'll be over to your house soon with your package, Mrs. Jamieson."

"Okay," I nodded, looking at my watch... realizing I only had a few minutes before I should head to work. "I'll be home soon before I have to go to work."

Sarah nodded and left.

Amy explained, as if reading my mind, "Jessica, I'm not a lesbian, I love cock way too much, but girls eat pussy way better than men do. But I need to apologize, I didn't think you'd be here this soon and Iost track of the time. "

"Um, its ok I guess, I mean I knew you were a sexual being, but I just never thought that Sarah would be a-a..."

"Lesbian? She's married, honey!"

"Really?"

"Well I never asked, but she wears a wedding ring."

"I could never do that."

"Oh honey, I know, but you don't know what you're missing."

"Doesn't Derek mind?"

"Hell no, Derek and I often have more than just the two of us in the bedroom."

"Really?" I asked again, everything she was saying surprising me and seeming almost unbelievable.

"Oh yeah, two girls, two men," she said, "sex is sex, and if you love your man you can separate sex from love."

"I guess," I said, not sure I agreed with this.

"You'd be surprised how many women love eating pussy," Amy said, which made me think of Karen... was there any connection between her slutty attire and lesbian sex with Amy?

"Oh. I-I-I still can't believe I just saw Sarah on her knees eating your vagina," I said, the image forever burned in my memory.

"My pussy darling, or cunt. You've got to understand Jess, some women like to be dominated, to be used, to be treated like a slut. I could tell Sarah was submissive the first time I met her."

"Really?" I asked, that seeming to be my one word answer to most of what Amy was saying.

"Honey, all women have a submissive or dominant streak in them. Mine is dominant, but most white women are submissive."

"I don't think I have either," I said, never seeing sex in that light, even as I noticed her categorise white women.

"Oh you do, you just haven't found it yet," she said.

"I don't," I reiterated confidently.

She smiled, "I can see the real you, Jess," she said, standing up. She looked at her watch and said, "Oh shit, my next client is in 20 minutes and I need to shower so I don't smell like I just got fucked. Let yourself out, sweetie."

Sarah was waiting for me when I got home and said, "I'm sorry you had to see that, Mrs. Jamieson."

"It's okay," I said. "Your private life is your private life."

"I'd never done anything like that until Amy," she clarified.

"What made you do it now then?" I asked, curious about Amy's seductive persona.

"I don't know," Sarah answered. "I'm just compelled to obey her."

"She does have a demanding persona," I agreed.

"That she does," Sarah agreed, handing me a box. I signed for it and took it inside. It was a present for Martin's birthday in a couple of weeks.

Inside, I went directly to my room, grabbed my rabbit and quickly got myself off... taking under a minute... a record for me.

The rest of the day I was in a stunned haze, replaying the lesbian scene in my head over and over... which made discussing Chaucer a rather difficult task.

I got myself off a second time once I got home from work, the lesbian scene replaying like a live rerun over and over.

At bedtime, I threw Martin on the bed and sucked his cock and then rode him like a cowgirl on a bucking horse. After a while I jumped off and took it back in my mouth, tasting my own juices for the first time ever. I sucked it with feverish abandon until he shot a hot load of semen down my throat. Not finding it unpleasant at all, I continued to bob up and down more gently until his cock became limp in my mouth. Then, in my first dominant moment in the bedroom ever, I demanded he eat me out. He was surprised, but totally willing... he loved the new me! After he gave me a great orgasm, continuing our fantastic new normal, I slipped into a blissful slumber... thinking maybe I did have a dominant side inside me.

4. FORESHADOWING

The next day, Amy walked into my house and said, "We need to talk."

"Okay," I said, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt as I was just about to go and work out... a little nervous about having a conversation after what I'd witnessed yesterday.

"I need to apologize for what you walked into," Amy said.

"It's okay," I said, "I did just walk into your house without knocking."

"Yeah, just like I walked into yours just now, but I knew you were coming over," she said. "I should have waited."

"Hey," I shrugged, the image of her pussy flooding into Sarah's mouth still engraved in my head. "No worries."

"You sure?" she asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah," I nodded. "I was definitely surprised, though. How did that even happen?"

Amy admitted, "I was horny once and saw Sarah walking by."

"It's that simple?" I asked.

"The truth?" she asked.

"Of course," I said. "We have no secrets. At least I have none."

"Did you masturbate after you left?" she asked.

"I plead the fifth," I answered, practically saying yes.

"Watching a girl go down on another girl is incredibly hot," Amy said.

"So I learned," I chuckled awkwardly.

"Come over to my house, we can have a glass of wine and chat," she offered.

"It's 11am," I pointed out.

"I know, we're already behind schedule," she joked.

"I was about to work out," I said.

"I got a workout this morning with Derek's dick," she teased, always turning anything into sex.

"I could have used that, but he went golfing this morning," I said.

"So he didn't stay home for his hole in one?" she asked.

"You're so bad," I laughed at her naughty innuendo... sometimes I thought she was more of a man than my husband was.

"You don't know the half of it," she said, before adding, "my place in five minutes."

"Fine," I said, before adding, "I didn't really want to work out anyway."

She left.

I changed... for some reason putting on a fun summer sundress and thigh highs... that the dress barely covered. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to dress up for her.

I arrived with some appetizers ten minutes later, and she called out, "You're late."

"Sorry, Mistress," I joked, as I walked into the kitchen.

"Be careful," she warned, "the term Mistress has very clear expectations that go with it."

"I was joking," I said.

"Me too," she laughed, before adding, "although I imagine you'd make an excellent submissive."

"Excuse me?" I questioned, as she poured me a glass of wine.

"You're the perfect prototype," she said.

"I like the alliteration, but what does that mean?" I asked taking a sip.

"Well, you're a teacher," she said.

"A professor, but close enough. So?"

"Well, people who teach are by nature typically submissive in the bedroom," she said.

"How so?" I asked, that seeming rather ridiculous considering our job had us almost always in control, or with some students trying to be in control.

"It's actually completely textbook psychology," she answered, which wasn't actually an answer.

"You're being very cryptic," I pointed out, curious what she was trying to say.

"Do you really want to know?" she asked.

"You can't call me a typical submissive and then not explain yourself," I pointed out.

"Well, it's pretty simple. From the moment you enter the classroom until the moment you leave you're in control. The job requires that you maintain a constant persona of control and dominance. Thus, once you get home you have a real need for someone else to be in control... it feels like heaven to just let go and allow someone else to make decisions for you."

I joked, "Tell that to my husband: he complains all the time that I'm telling him what to do."

She put her hand on my knee as she continued in serious tones, "That's because you don't allow yourself to let go; it's your teacher persona coming home... over time it's taken control of who you are."

"I guess," I said, her hand feeling warm on my knee.

"Seriously," she continued. "What you really need is someone to take control for you." She then added, giving my leg a squeeze, "like I did when I dressed you up for your hubby."

I nodded, understanding her somewhat. It was true that teaching was exhausting, and no one understood that except other teachers, because all others only saw us during summers and weekends off.

By the time I got home I was often exhausted and some of what Amy said was true. I would prefer not always being the hard ass... the one nagging the kids to do their chores... the one cleaning up after them as well as my husband. I repeated my vague agreement, "I guess."

"We're friends, Jessica," she said, taking her hand off my leg. "So I don't want to psychoanalyse you if you aren't interested. But the simple truth is that you're living in denial."

"Denial of what?" I asked, curious what she meant.

She paused. "Tell you what. I want you to think about whether you want my professional opinion and a free session on how to break yourself free of the invisible inner chains holding you back from your true nature."

"You have me curious, but what you're saying is still rather cryptic."

"Simply put," she said, "If you wish me to, I'll train your brain to let go of the moral standards engrained in you by a backwards society, and awaken your true inner sexuality; one that you likely don't even know exists."

"You already awoke that," I joked, unsure still what she really meant. She'd already awoken my inner sexuality the day she dressed me up.

"Oh, I barely grazed the surface of what you're capable of and what you were born to be," she said.

Before I could ask any more, Derek walked in and the conversation changed to the party they were hosting next Saturday. Derek asked, "Are you coming, Jessica?"

Amy answered for me, "I'm not sure she's ready for that."

"For what?" I asked, her answer strange.

"It's a couples' party," she answered.

"I can bring Martin," I said.

She chuckled softly, as she clarified, "We'd blow his mind: it's a sex party."

"Oooooh," I said, completely taken by surprise.

"Please don't judge me," Amy said.

"I'm not," I said, truthfully too shocked to process an actual judgement.

"Well, tell you what," she said. "Come back here tomorrow afternoon at one if you want a free session."

"Why not?" I shrugged, remembering that being her personal Barbie had worked really well for me.

She warned, "Before you make your decision, think about it. I'll push your boundaries and bring out a side of you that you never knew existed."

"That only intrigues me even more," I said, sensing her ominous tone, yet trusting her.

"Well, if you're still intrigued tomorrow, come over at one," she said.

"Okay," I nodded and headed out, my head spinning one more time.

5. NEIGHBOURLY CONVERSATION & THE PHILOSOPHY OF BLACK SENSUALITY AND WHITE SUBMISSIVENESS

That evening I was coming back from picking up some groceries when things got even stranger and made me wonder if Amy had ulterior motives beyond just pushing my boundaries.

As I was taking my groceries out of the car, I saw Karen crossing the street, clearly leaving Amy's house again, and heading the other way was a young coed who couldn't be over 19. Karen was wearing a very short red one piece dress with her black stay up stockings entirely in view.

"Hi Karen," I called out.

"Hi Jessica," she said, walking up to me.

"What are you wearing?" I asked.

"A sexy outfit for Amy," she replied matter-of-factly, all her prior nervousness gone.

"What?" I responded, surprised.

"Oh come on," Karen stated, "You've seen me going over there a couple of times, and you've seen many other hot sluts going over there; what do you think we're doing, having coffee and arguing politics?"