“Fine!” she replied dramatically, taking the blouse, but I could tell she was secretly excited at this sudden new direction. She was enjoying the attention, but also the idea of her daughter taking charge.
I called her bluff. “Don’t fine me. You’re loving being my Barbie Mom!”
She laughed as she shrugged the blouse on, “Fine, you caught me, Barbie!”
“On that note,” I said, picking up my phone. “Let’s see what Barbie’s mom’s name is.”
“It’s probably Amber,” Mom joked, as she tried to button the blouse. She then pointed out the obvious, “This blouse is pretty tight.”
“Just button it up,” I ordered, as I googled Barbie’s Mom’s name.
“So bossy,” she teased, but she did as she was told.
After a few more seconds I burst out laughing.
“What?” she asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“You really are my Barbie Mommy,” I said, noticing her hard nipples clearly poking out the tight white blouse.
“What do you mean?” she asked, finishing the last button.
“Barbie’s mom’s name is Margaret,” I revealed, which was also my mom’s name.
“No way!” she scoffed.
“Look,” I said, handing her my phone.
“We’ll I’ll be,” she said, standing in front of me in a too tight blouse, a thong, and a garter-belt with stockings.
“Your tits really are a lot bigger than mine,” I smiled, looking at her huge tits trying to break through the tight, thin fabric.
“Breasts,” she corrected.
“I like the word tits,” I refuted boldly, “I also like the word pussy, and although many are offended by the term, my favourite word is cunt.”
“Hannah!” Mom gasped, this somehow seeming to offend her more than all the other shocking revelations of the day.
“Mother!” I countered and then continued my filthy language assault, “When Dad fucked you, did you moan, ‘Please stroke your penis in and out of my vagina’?”
“Hannah, that is too much,” Mom protested.
“No, you begged him to fuck your cunt,” I continued, before adding, “the walls are thin, Mom.”
“Oh my God!” Mom said, shocked I had heard her and Dad having sex.
“That’s usually what you screamed when you faked your orgasms, isn’t it?” I asked.
“I can’t believe you heard us,” she said, shaking her head, her cheeks ruby red.
I shrugged, “Parents fuck. I get it. I mean I was born and all. Plus, you’re pretty loud.”
“I’m not sure I like this enlightened you,” she said, her face still ruby red.
“You look tense,” I said, “lie on my bed. I’ll give you a massage.”
“You’re the one who made me tense,” she pointed out.
“Then let me make it up to you by helping relieve your stress,” I offered, pointing to my bed. “Lie on your stomach.”
“Okay,” she said tentatively.
“Wait! Take off the blouse,” I ordered. “It’ll be easier to massage you without it.”
“Put it on, take it off,” she mock complained, as she did indeed take it back off, and I realized I still hadn’t put her into the plaid skirt. At this point it would probably just be a distraction. The only roles I wanted to play at this point is daughter seduces Mom, Mom stops crying about her lost sperm donor and we all come happily ever after, maybe inviting Amanda over.