April 16, 2010: The Picnic

This morning, after I showered and talked to both of you, I prepared the picnic Whitney expected. I fixed deviled eggs with shrimp on top, sliced turkey sandwiches, tuna salad sandwiches, potato salad. Raw veggies, iced tea for the girls and wine for Tonja and me.

I dressed in a tan mini and red halter top then left around 10:00 for the one hour drive to the state park. Once there I selected a table on the fringe of the picnic area, fairly close to the lake. I spread a table cloth and set places for them, smoked a few cigarettes and waited. Whitney called me in this process and told me they’d be there around 11:30. I told her where to look for the table.

I greeted them warmly. Whitney was wearing a white mini and top set; Karen, shorts and sleeveless top and Tonja a green camisole top and white shorts which were rather tight and faintly accentuated her pussy. Tonja extended her thanks to me for “catering” this outing and she expressed it with a certain degree of curiosity. I told her I was more than glad to do it and be of service. When Tonja reached into the car to find her sunglasses, Whitney quietly slipped her hand under my skirt, an obvious panty check. I whispered … do you approve, Ma’am. She smiled.

Without too much fanfare I took the food out of my coolers and Tonja genuinely seemed quite pleased at what I’d prepared. After all, Whitney told me what to prepare and all were picnic favorites for Tonja. We ate, making small talk, and I made sure Tonja’s cup of wine was never less than half empty. Mine was the same.

After lunch Whitney and Karen went to the restroom. That left me alone with Tonja for the first time ever, it was awkward. Here I was sitting across the table from a woman I barely knew yet I’d fucked her daughters, let them use me in lurid ways, I’d been naked and fucked Whitney and Karen in her bed, worn her panties and carried her soiled ones home to sniff and wear.

Not knowing what to say, I began by commenting how nice she looked and she responded in kind. Then I remarked that she must be so relieved that tax season is over so she could relax. As we talked I leaned across the table, held my arms close to my tits to create some cleavage. I caught her eyes drifting. I increased the pressure on the sides of my breasts to create more allure. She glanced again and then back to my face. She asked about what I do; she was a bit confused, I told her my main form of work and she responded with … so you really don’t run a cleaning service. I blushed and said every now and then when I feel the need.

She asked again how met Whitney. I felt her gaze, I paused and said originally I met her at a friend’s house briefly and found her to be a very engaging young lady. (I neglected to mention that the friend was Jas and I was naked in a cage when Whitney first saw me. I knew I didn’t have the leeway to go there.) Then I quickly added I did see her (Whitney) at a coffee shop one afternoon and we renewed our acquaintance. Again half true but half not. Tonja seemed to buy this but asked what it was about her daughter that I found so “engaging.” I floundered for a second then said she seemed so mature and dynamic and in control of her surroundings, things that any mom would enjoy hearing. Tonja paused and added something like … yes, she quite a handful at times, keeps her on her toes and that she (Whitney) thinks she’s the boss of things and at times downright domineering. I blushed slightly and said that’s not a bad trait. Tonja chuckled as if I might not be totally aware of Whitney persuasiveness. I said she does tell me things to do but I really don’t mind, it’s harmless and I like people who have strong personalities and I enjoy women who are forceful and purposeful. Again I neglected to tell her how powerless I was around Whitney. Tonja smiled, almost an all-too-knowing smile. I said nothing because I could see the girls returning. Tonja cast another glance at my tits and said that’s a nice top. I blushed and thanked her.

The girls returned. Whitney was coy; Karen almost childish as she’d been during lunch. Whitney quizzed me on why I hadn’t set out dessert. I said I’m sorry Ma’am, your mother and I were talking and again Tonja raised an eyebrow. I fumbled with the container of cheery cheese tarts which I’d picked up from a deli this morning and poured myself and Tonja more wine. I needed the relief. I asked Tonja if she enjoyed the food and she was all smiles and giggles.

After lunch Whitney told me they were going to walk down to the lake and I should clear the table then join them, I did a quiet yes ma’am. It wasn’t lost on Tonja. They left and I lit a cigarette and finished my wine, then put away the remaining food. I left the basket and coolers on the table and headed for the lake.

I saw them by the canoe rentals and started down the path that led in that direction. As I drew closer I saw Karen standing in the lake, water up to her knees, Tonja was scolding her like a child not to get wet or fall in. I approached closer, trying to decide how much of my smile was real and how much was faked nervousness about what might happen next but everything was cool.

Whitney wanted to rent canoes but Tonja wasn’t too keen on the idea and admitted she didn’t know how to maneuver them. Whitney and Karen kept insisting. Then I stepped in and assured Tonja that for me its almost second nature; when I was a couple of years older than Whitney, I was a lifeguard and water safety instructor at a community recreation facility for several summers. Things on the water, including canoes, are second nature to me and all she had to do was sit in the bow of the canoe and I could paddle for both of us. She thought about it for a moment. I encouraged her again and did my best to assure her I was quite capable of taking care of her. She finally said okay.

For a few minutes I took charge, an absolute rarity around Whitney. I had Whitney assume the rear position in one canoe and Karen take the front. I told both of them how to paddle. Then I helped Tonja into the front of the other canoe. It was the first time I’d ever really touched her. She seemed to welcome it and I think her wariness of me dissipated. As I was kneeling on the deck, bent over so I could assist Tonja, I was consciously aware of her gazing at my tits which were almost completely exposed by my gapping halter top and my position of kneeling on the dock and her looking up at me for instruction about how to sit so she could comfortably enjoy the ride. It was a complete accident but I took advantage of the situation not to adjust my top and let her get an eyeful. I even bent down more when I helped her get her life vest buckled. We exchanged smiles. I took the rear position, which does the majority of keeping a canoe in a straight course or turning as required. If Tonja had turned around she’d have been looking directly into my bare cunt but I knew she wasn’t going to shift her position too much.

We set out across the lake. I kept our canoe close to Whitney's for a few minutes so I could give her a few instructions. She adjusted her paddling accordingly and set her canoe on a straight course and thanked me. She quickly shot back at me that she liked the paddles and they’d be fun elsewhere. I knew exactly where her mind was roaming and grinned back.

We stayed out on the lake for about an hour and came back to the dock. Tonja went to the restroom and came back. I asked Whitney if I could go to the restroom if she would excuse me for a moment. Tonja overheard it and raised her eyebrows but she said nothing. When I returned Whitney told me Tonja wanted to sit in the shade by the lake and this would probably be an okay time for me to leave. I told her I would. She told her mom and Karen she’d walk with me back to the car and return shortly. As we walked back up the hill to the picnic area I asked her how things were going and she responded “according to plan.” We packed everything in my car and Whitney gave me one of those looks. I knew what she had in mind.

We went into the restroom by the picnic area, one of those cold expressionless buildings of concrete blocks, a door and four stalls and basins, an antiseptic smell and sterile environment. Whitney and I went into one stall, the farthest from the door, she locked it told me to take my clothes off; she wanted me to see me naked. I almost pleaded with her not to do this but I couldn’t bring myself to deny her. I removed the halter top and mini skirt, even my sandals. She told me to sit on the commode and pee while she watched me. I did, nervously but I finally trickled out some pee. She seemed pleased and why not; she’d just completed step two in humiliating me. She told me to wipe with my hand and lick it off. She was in her glory; her face didn’t lie about her delight. She gave me permission to lift her skirt, pull her panties aside and kiss her cunt. In fact she used that word and slung out the last three letters to the point the word sounded as if it had two or three syllables. I kissed her and licked her. She told me to masturbate for her. I whispered not here. She looked at me with a dumb look and said "here" is all we have, you’ll do it.

Sitting on the commode I ran my right hand to my cunt while she toyed with my breasts, pulled my nipples, lifted my tits by the nipples and tugged, pulled until I was moaning. She told me to finger myself, quite fooling around. I started plunging my fingers in me.

The restroom was so barren. Sunlight streamed in through high windows that only were screened. It was sterile, not sexy or erotic but what I was made it that way. Her youthful face urged me on, I fingered myself. She asked if I wanted to kiss her ass, she used dark terms, her ass hole ... her black shit hole. I began begging her. She turned, pulled panties halfway down her legs and pouched her butt back at me she told me to run my tongue over her black shit hole because she knew I wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise. I pushed my face between her taunt cheeks and found her rose, that hole she so wickedly described. I began licking, sucking, she told me to take my other hand and reach around to her cunt, and play with her, pull her apart and make her cumm. I could hear voices at tables in the distance; I dismissed them from my mind. I metered out my own strokes into my cunt and focused on hers, it took some time but she began to breath irregularly, deeper, I knew where were headed and the inevitable conclusion. I went into her, smelled her, and kept licking her precious puckered hole.

If the sky had parted or the earth quaked I don’t think I would have known it. My world was entirely within that small space surrounded by metal partitions and concrete block walls. Wind blew, sunlight shadows danced, birds chirped, she kept going, building, whispered at me that I was doing good, doing what she wanted and how easily I fell for what she wanted me to do. I kissed her ass and whispered that I love her ass, her cunt, how much I loved being her cunt. Then I said I love you to which she replied … of course you do. She kept rocking, stronger, now, ready to unleash her juices, my lust was suddenly insatiable. Both my hands moved in unison. She was ready and wanted me to cumm with her, I was there, had been. She grasped her hand over mine and shoved me into her holding my hands still almost embedded inside her she strained, uttered a tell tale groan and began rocked off my fingers. I flicked at my clit and came with her. I whispered, I’m cumming, I’m cumming. She snarled out the bitch word.

She quickly turned; skirt lifted and let me gaze at her glistening cunt then told me to lick her dry and get what I wanted, I did. She held my hair her soft hands rubbing at my head. We both were breathing erratically, slowly ebbing. My lips kissed her cunnie, softly nothing wild, just ebbing, kissing, and loving.

There was nothing, no sounds other that breathing, birds chirping, distant voices in play. Suddenly I was conscious of my nakedness. She sensed it. She took my clothes off the stall door hook and clasped them in her hand. Playfulness returned and she told me how interesting it would be for her to unlock the door, run out of the restroom with my clothes and leave me in here naked. I whispered please don’t do that, she told me not today but maybe some day, some day, she like to experience that, here, sometime this summer. She said it would probably give me a thrill. I blushed.

She told me to walk out of the stall naked, go to the sink and clean up; she’d stand guard at the door with my clothes so no one would come inside and embarrass themselves by seeing me naked. That’s exactly how she put it. She slipped out of the stall, my clothes in hand and told me to wash up. Nervous as hell and totally humiliated, I crept out of the stall naked, half crouching, and half insane as I glanced in the mirror over the wash basin. There was only cold water, hell I needed cold water to quench my crazed lust. I ripped off paper towels, dampened them under the cold water facet, and washed my face, my perspiring body and inner thighs coated with silky smooth residue. She stepped back from the door to get a good look at me and laughed. She tossed my clothes at me. She told me she was going to wait for me at out picnic table and I could finish washing up at my own risk. She said look at myself in the mirror again and see my naked body, see what a whore I am. I looked at her, she shouted… do it. I turned to the mirror.

When I turned back to her, she was gone.

I turned back to the mirror; I stared at what stared back. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I could here voices approaching, a moms voice, guiding her offspring. I grabbed my clothes off the floor and scampered the 5-6 feet back into the safety of the stall, just as I was shutting the door, they came inside. The only sound I was really conscious of was my heart beating inside me like a drum. To make my presence know I flushed the toilet. I slipped the skirt on and then the halter top. I smelled my hands; even though freshly washed, they were clearly scented with the essence of her, I knew it was also lingering on my face.

I dressed, I left the stall caught a glance of a mom and her two kids, shamelessly; I splashed water on my face again and wished for a decent bar of soap. Clutching a handful of damp paper towels, I left.

I returned to the table and Whitney. She looked at me again and asked if I had a good time, did I enjoy doing crazy things like this, I said yes, oh Gawd yes. She snickered and said … just wait. We’re just starting. She told me needed to get back to her mom but she’d call me tonight and let me know how it went. She and I put the coolers in my car and we kissed. I left around 2:45.

As I drove, the scene in the restroom rolled through my mind over and over. I couldn’t let it go. Whitney had played her game and done it her way. She was good; good enough to leave me so weak I could barely concentrate. Karen, on the other hand, had floated between adolescence and young adulthood and crossed between the two realms all day. Around Whitney she was more animated; around Tonja less so. I’d driven about 30 miles and as I went through a little town, spied an internet cafe. I pulled into the parking lot, grabbed on laptop out of the back seat, went in and ordered a tea.

I wanted to call her but I resisted the temptation. Instead, I stared pecking away at the keyboard; I had to get it out, transfer things from my mind so I could relax.

I hope both of you are pleased. I am.