Apr 24, 2010: Planting Flowers

Previously this week, Whitney thought it would be a nice gesture for me to assist Tonja planting perennials around the patio. This really wasn’t stated as an option but more of a demand. I’ve met her mom, I’ve cooked, cleaned so it seemed logical that performing some household chores was entirely reasonable. Moreover she’d already told Tonja I was coming, so there’s no choice.

She told me to be there around 11:00 and they’d have flower plants and bags of garden soil by that time. She specifically told me to wear a pair of cut offs and a crummy shirt that buttoned up the front plus, a pair of her moms panties that she knew I had, an old bra and a crummy shirt that buttons up the front. Appropriate shoes and gardening gloves were a given. She reserved the right to alter my clothing needs after I was there. When I asked what she meant she ignored my question, told me my job was to show up and work as she said.

Tonja was all smiles and giggles when I arrived. She was puzzled about why I’d give up my Saturday to do this and I just told her Whitney coerced me into helping. I noticed Karen was absent and asked about her and was told she had a commitment to be with her father (divorced).

We had a few minutes of general conversation. Tonja showed me the area bordering the patio where I was to dig up the old stuff and replace with what she’d bought. She had some gardening tools for me to use. Ironically, I became keenly aware Tonja was in charge of this project and in a subtle way she was the one giving me orders at first which was different.

Whitney helped for a short time but I was clearly the main source of labor. Within a few minutes the sun broke through the clouds and the day heated up. When Tonja went to get something, Whitney whispered that I should unbutton two buttons on the blouse. I did. When her mom returned with another digging tool she noticed. By around 1230 the temperature reached 78 degrees as indicted by the small thermometer mounted by the patio door. I was beginning to perspire and pinned my hair up to keep it off my neck.

I realized we didn’t have enough potting soil. Tonja left to get more bags of the stuff at the nursery and said she’d also pick up something to eat on the way back.

As soon as she left Whitney sent me to the garage and told me to wait there. She came in with a pair of scissors in hand, and told me she was really disappointed that my cut offs weren’t short enough. She had me stand, legs slightly apart and cut off another inch or two which made them borderline obscene. She said this might make things more interesting, that when I bend over be sure my butt is pointed to Tonja because she wanted to see her mom’s reaction. I protested that she'd think I’m awful.

Whitney told me some things … she’s pretty sure her mom has a serious case of the “ hots” for me; that it gives her, Whitney, a thrill to watch this drama unfold, and to knows she's the one fucking me while her mom squirms; that I should never forget she’s the one in charge. She told me to take my fucking clothes off. I stripped completely and Whitney cooed how she loved seeing me sweaty and dirty, that it was a huge turn on to her.

She told me to take her shorts off and eat her. I pulled her tight green shorts off, kissed her pussy through her paisley print thong then slide that off her. She slid back until her butt settled on the hood of her car and bent her legs slightly until her pussy was so damn lewdly displayed. I knelt in front her and began kissing and licking … she was sweaty, juicy and the mixture of sweat and her glistening cunt drove me nuts … plus the atmosphere of the steamy garage made me feel totally whorish.

She asked me if I still loved her, between licks I told her I loved her and she made me say it over and over again. She never responded back that she loved me. Right then I didn’t care. Finally she asked me if I thought she loved me; between licks I told her I hoped so. She laughed that love is secondary to me, that being her slut and being abused is the kind of love crave and I fall more under her control every time we meet. I told her I did, that I was her bitch.

By now my hands were under her hips she was leaning back across the hood of her car, propped up on her elbows so she could watch me. She loved seeing my lily white face on her black pussy. I told her I loved it and I wanted to worship her; she said that’s the plan, bitch, just eat me. I kept going until she told me she was about to cumm and get my mouth right over her cunt. She began, spasm after spasm, hissing to get her fucking cumm. I was like some possessed demon listening to her words, sucking and licking her insatiably. I had the strange image of being a bee sucking pollen off a flower.

Finally she pushed me away and sat up, slowly recovering, getting her breath. She looked at me in a way I can’t describe other than satisfaction, lust and control. In an almost playful voice she whispered... damn you are good, I’m gonna keep you. I took a deep breath and smiled and told her I hope she does.

Then with this air of smug superiority, she told me I must be horny and to frig myself off because did I really think she was going to touch my sweaty, dirty cunt. I settled back on my heels and touched myself. She shook her head no and told me to lie back on the garage floor, spread my legs and fuck myself. I did; the floor was cool, somewhat dirty, greasy, borderline trashy. I had to push a couple of plastic storage bins out of the way to lie down completely. She told me to frig fast because her mom might be home any minute and would I really want her to catch me masturbating in her garage. Then she said maybe that’s the best way, she should tie me up in the garage or maybe just shit on me again and just let her mom find me when she raises the garage door. Those words drove me insane. I could picture it and it was like cold chills and hot flashes running across my body at the same time. By now she was sitting on the hood of her car, glaring down at me. I kept frigging, she kept hissing things about me being a fucking bitch frigging for a black girl, that she really should piss on me. I frigged, strained, arched my hips, closed my eyes and exploded. I could hear my cunt squishing, feel it throbbing, then ebbing and I brought my hand to my mouth and sucked my fingers as she ordered me.

She told me to put my panties back on, laughing at me said I don’t have panties, I’m wearing her moms, put those back on and the cut offs, nothing up top yet. She pulled her shorts on and disappeared in the house and came back and tossed something me. I picked it up and went pale. It was a yellow and black bikini top. She told me to put it on, its one of her moms. I said surely you can’t be serious. She ignored me and said, put … it … on … bitch … now. I did.

This wicked look came across her face. She said this is perfect; her old white bitch with cumm on my face and an oozing cunt that’ll soak right through those panties and probably leave snail trails beneath my shortened cutoffs and down my inner thighs.

We both went inside and pissed. I told her this is insane, her mom will freak. She picked up the blouse and bra I’d been wearing, we went to the kitchen and I got a glass of water. We went back on the patio and she told me to start working. Then she told me to throw some dirt against the crotch of my cutoffs, rub some potting soil between my thighs. I did. She said, yeah….that looks good; start digging and planting. I knelt and began. I knew what she was after, I knew the soaked panties and cutoffs might not contain my ooze and it’d probably streak down my thighs.

In about 15 minutes Tonja returned. She did a double take when she saw me in her bikini top. The look on her face was somewhere between sheer bewilderment and laughter but her stare embarrassed me. She finally stammered out … what is this? Whitney, true to her form, handled it and told her mom I was hot from working in the sun and had too many clothes on and certainly I couldn’t work out here in my bra so the bikini top seemed entirely logical and my cutoffs were chaffing my thighs so altering them was a no brainer. Then she gave her mom a look and said somewhat arrogantly that she’d told her mom before they needed a better fence Tonja looked like a confused puppy; she honestly didn’t know what to say or do.

She changed the subject to getting the bags of potting soil out of the trunk of her car. I quickly told her I’d do that which Whitney agreed and ordered her mom to get some plates so we could eat the stuff from the deli. Whitney was so in charge that her mom started automatically doing what she said; I was almost stunned.

We sat at the patio table and chairs and ate. Not much was said. Tonja could not stop looking at me, or more specifically my tits in her bikini. When her mom went inside to pee, Whitney smirked at me and said how my food tasted with my pussy mouth. I broke into laughter. She added she bet her mom was probably inside fingering off.

Tonja came back (whether she was masturbating or not is beyond me). Whitney told her to clear the table while I resumed my work. I remembered what Whitney told me about keeping my ass pointed in Tonja’s direction as much as possible. There really wasn’t much more conversation other than her handing me plants to place in the ground but trust me I know she was mesmerized.

The weather started to change, turned cooler, and rain threatened. I worked faster and Tonja was almost glued to me handing me plants. Whitney seemed to be the overseer. When Tonja went into the garage for something, Whitney told me her mom was eating this up … watching me half naked working in her flowers. Then she gave me a warning; that if her mom made any suggestion about meeting me one on one, even something as innocent as coffee, I was to say to make an excuse and decline. If she pressed the issue I am to say I’ll have to ask Whitney.

When we finished everything Tonja was all smiles and giggles about how good it looked. She asked me if I wanted to shower and get the dirt off me and I could use her bathroom. Whitney, who was slightly behind her mom, looked at me and shook her head “no”. As much as I would have loved a shower, I sheepishly declined Tonya’s offer and told her if I could just wipe off with an old damp towel, I’d be fine. Whitney smiled and nodded. Tonja was downcast.

I put everything back in the garage and came back into the house. Whitney gave me my blouse and bra and a threadbare towel and told me to wipe off in the powder room and change. Tonja stood there and once again interjected I could shower in her bathroom. I thanked her for the kindness but made some excuse that I was just too dirty and I’d take care of it at home. Whitney again nodded at me.

After I’d wiped off and changed, I gave Tonja a light hug, then Whitney a slightly more emotional one. Tonya acted like she wanted to say something but didn’t. Before things got sticky, I blandly said I hope she liked what I’d done and left.