Juliana's Summer of Lost Innocence

After bookmarking her page, she got up, threw off her clothes and slipped it on. She posed in front of the full-length mirror on her door, twirling and primping, cupping her boobs, sliding her hands along her luscious thighs, feeling sexy and beautiful and incredibly hot. After dabbing on some Elizabeth Arden, she asked herself why not. She had crossed a few kinky lines already. What difference would one more make?

When she opened the door to her mom's bedroom, Janet and Wendell were standing up, holding each other. "I'm not too late, am I?"

Janet looked up. "Not at all, we're still in the preliminaries" she giggled. "Glad you decided to join us." She paused and took a couple steps back. "Wow! You look so sexy in that. And I love the way you smell. Elizabeth Arden, I bet. Doesn't she look incredible, Wendell?"

"Absolutely! You both do." He then requested they do their thing while he watched. Still dressed, he took a seat on a wicker chair by the window.

Janet could feel her daughter's reticence. "Sure you're okay with this? " Juliana gave a weak nod. "Just pretend it's just us two, that he isn't here, at least for now."

It wasn't easy. Juliana could see Wendell out of the corner of her eye with his hand shoved down his pants. She stepped around to block him from her line of sight. Mom and daughter stood next to the half-made queen-sized bed. Some of Juliana's inhibition floated away as Janet's mouth worked over her nipples and her fingers stabbed in and out of her pussy through her red crotchless panties. "Yes, mom, yes," Juliana moaned, becoming more absorbed in Janet's loving, sensual embrace.

Juliana returned the favor, this time with her tongue. Sitting on the edge of the bed, and with Janet standing up, she pressed her hands against her mom's butt while licking her pussy, easy enough to do because her mom wore the same outfit. Juliana was amazed at how good her mom looked for a woman in her mid-forties. She had some wrinkles, yes, some cellulite on the backs of her thighs and a few age spots on her chest. But her skin remained smooth (especially on her legs), her tummy didn't protrude, she smelled good and, perhaps best of all, menopause had not yet set in—she could still get wet and fast.

By the time they were on the bed doing 69, Juliana's own juices were approaching the high-water mark. With her head buried between Janet's legs and her body on fire, her awareness of Wendell's presence was relegated to an almost subconscious level. Not exactly out of sight-out of mind, but close.

Then she heard this: "Okay, ladies, which one of you would like the honor of going first?"

Juliana turned to see a grinning, naked Wendell sitting on the edge of the bed, one hand stroking his fully erect cock, the other holding a lambskin condom. She rolled to her side and said, "Age before beauty, mom."

Janet nodded and rolled on to her back, positioning herself for standard missionary. "Okay, Wendell, let's show Julie what we did while she was away at school."

Juliana retreated to the wicker chair. She touched herself as she watched the two of them go at it—her mom, legs clamped around her lover's waist while she uttered a string of complimentary superlatives; and Wendell, his dick stabbing through Janet's crotchless panties. Introspective and analytical to a fault, she couldn't help but picture her dad in Wendell's position, pleasuring her mom the way he must have done when things were good between them, when they were a "normal" family doing what normal families did in mid-century, post-war America, before dissenting forces scattered the rules of propriety like so many papers in the wind. The country had lost its so-called innocence and gone to hell, and she felt as though she had gone there with it, indulging herself in this sick bacchanalia, something she could scarcely imagine just a few short months ago—before the assassinations and riots, before Walter Cronkite expressed his dim view of the war, before LBJ bailed out of the presidential race on national TV.

Janet's voice roused her from her thoughts. "Come sit over my face, sweetie. A true ménage involves all three at the same time."

Juliana hesitated, then stood up and lowered herself to the point where Janet's tongue could access her pussy. It felt good because it always felt good when her mom performed oral sex on her. But her mindset didn't feel so good, and less than a minute later, she climbed off the bed. "Look, I don't mean to be a killjoy, but I can't go on with this."

"What?" Janet said, incredulously. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet again."

Wendell pulled out and sat back on his heels. "Come on, Julie, I'm just getting warmed up, saving the best for you."

"Save it for my mom," she said, tersely. She went back into her room, slipped off the teddy and threw it against the wall. Then she changed into jeans and t-shirt, stretched out on her bed and resumed her reading. She expected to hear the usual sound effects. Instead, she heard bits of conversation and then what sounded like Wendell putting his clothes on.

Seconds later, he opened her door. Leaning against the doorpost, arms folded against his chest, he said, "I don't get it."

Juliana looked up from her book. "No, I guess you don't, Wendell."

When he left the house she expected Janet to give her hell and was pleasantly surprised when she showed sympathy instead. "After you left, I lost my appetite for it," Janet told her.

"Sorry again, mom, but I—"

"No problem, honey bun, it's only sex. Another time, perhaps. When you're ready."

But that time didn't come. She broke things off with Wendell and persuaded her mom to participate in therapy as a couple. They did that through August, until it was time for Juliana to return to Brandeis, managing to keep their hands and tongues off each other. Janet still didn't feel guilty about what happened, but kept her distance in deference to her daughter who did.

When she returned to school, Mindy Asch, her reed-thin, curly-haired dorm mate asked what she did over the summer. "Oh, nothing much," Juliana said. "Worked at E. J. Korvette and read a lot. Also spent a lot of time with my mom after dad moved out."

"Sounds like you two are pretty close."

"We are. Bosom buddies you might say."

"That's great. I wish I was that close to my mother. She's so critical, always giving me a tongue-lashing for one thing or another."

"My mom's big on tongue-lashings too. But in a pleasant way."

"A pleasant tongue-lashing? Sounds like an oxymoron. How does that work?"

"Mindy, you don't want to know. Trust me."