I pulled out a pair of dress jeans I knew fit pretty snugly. I knew they showed off my ass. I rarely wore them. Then for a top I chose a short sleeve top that showed some cleavage and just barely missed the top of my pants leaving a little skin to show when I moved. Satisfied I jumped in the shower.
While in the shower I again thought about Ben’s handsome face and six pack abs. I pictured his big cock entering Morgan. Slowly my hand found my clit. As I rubbed it I felt the trim bush. I pictured Morgan’s shaved pussy. I reached for a razor.
When it was clean and bald I again started playing with my clit. My thoughts started racing. Why did I just shave my pussy? Did I want someone to see it? Did I want Ben to see it? Did I want that big cock?
In my head I pictured it fucking Morgan. I continued to play with my clit. I wondered what, if anything, Ben would say about my shaved pussy. I fingered myself to an orgasm.
I stepped out of the shower and dried off. I sat on my bed with the towel wrapped around me. What was wrong with me? This was my daughter’s boyfriend. Well boyfriend was too strong a term. Lover? No, even that implied too much. They were fuck buddies. I giggled a bit. Why was I so judgemental? Hell, there were times I thought I could use a fuck buddy. I can’t deny I’d thought about it before.
I looked at the clothes on my bed and went to get underwear out of my drawer. I am normally a cotton bikini and utilitarian bra person but today I opened the other drawer. I admit, sometimes when I want to feel strong, or better about myself I wear sexier underwear. There is a sense of power knowing you have pretty underwear on. I pulled out a lace purple string bikini bra and panty set and got dressed.
I headed downstairs. Morgan was already there. Pleated miniskirt, crop top, over the knee stockings, wedges. She looked like some guy’s sexual fantasy. I felt both uneasy and a little jealous.
“You look nice mom,” she said
“Thank you, you look nice too!” I said.
“Uh huh, I saw how you looked at me,” she laughed.
“Well, you do look like a Britney Spears video,” I countered.
“Perfect,” she said. “Ben will love it.”
The doorbell rang. It was Ben. Morgan answered it. Ben looked great. He was over 6′ tall and lean. Great shoulders and a small 5 o’clock shadow. He was wearing a t shirt that clung tight around his chest and arms and loose around his waist giving you an idea of the muscled physique under it. He had on jeans that fit perfectly and showed off his ass.
Morgan kissed him and invited him in.
“Hi,” she said. “You kind of know my mom, Monica.”
I realized I’d watched them have sex twice but we were never introduced.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, instantly regretting it as I’d ‘met’ him twice.
“Nice to put a name to my peeping Tom,” he teased.
I stood there blushing. Morgan rescued me.
“Come on in,” she invited Ben.
“Thanks,” he said. “You look good enough to eat.”
“I’d like that,” she replied. “Maybe after dinner.”
I pictured her with his head between her legs.
“Let’s go sit down,” I said.