Mouse Bk. 06 Ch. 04

"Peculiar."

"I still don't know why we didn't just call them to pick us up. That cab ride took forever."

Mouse made a face at Michael, a panicked, pleading face. Michael searched his mind for ideas. It didn't seem like they could do much except wait it out, except that if their parents unpacked much at all, they'd certainly have to put something in the closet, this closet.

Michael had only one thing to work with. He'd kept his Blackberry in the pajama pants pocket, set on vibrate. Mouse would have killed him if she knew, but he had to be available 24-7 for work. It was part of the price of being a VP of operations. Business ran around the clock these days, things happened whenever they happened, and he was expected to fix them.

He pulled it out to show Mouse. Her eyes, somehow, went wider then they already were, but a smile slipped onto her face. She mouthed the words "I love you" to him, kissed him quickly, then glanced in fear at the door, as if she'd just kissed him in front of Mom and Dad.

Michael gave her a questioning look, wondering what she could possibly do with it. They couldn't call their parents to lure them away. They'd hear the voice through the closet door.

Michael looked over Mouse's shoulder as she keyed a text message to Melanie.

* * *

—Help Trapped Help—

It took a while for Melanie to respond. It could have taken hours. As it was, they got lucky.

—What? Where? Please explain.—

—Mom and Dad came home. We're trapped in their bedroom closet in a compromising position. You have to help.—

—Price—

—Anything—

—Anything?—

—Yes HELP Fast!—

—Deal—

The phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hi, darling."

"Yeah, they were forecasting nothing but rain, and we were getting bored anyway. Your father got antsy. Said he couldn't sleep right for so long in a strange bed."

"Yeah."

"Yes, of course. Do you know where Mouse is?"

"What? No, no. I don't know. Honey? Honey, forget that. Mel says Michael said there was something wrong with the gas lines in the basement. Mouse thought she smelled something earlier. That's why he's here. She called them both in a panic."

Michael watched Mouse's face turn into a small snarl, obviously annoyed that Melanie had portrayed her as panicking.

"Yeah, yeah, Dad's going to check. What? You think so? Oh, alright. It seems like such a bother."

Michael and Mouse listened tensely as their mother hung up the phone, and then there was silence. A moment later they could hear her calling to their father from out of the room, her voice fading as she descended the stairs.

In moments they were up, hurrying to their rooms to change. Michael threw his clothes on quickly, stuffing his father's pajamas into the bottom of his own suitcase, then made his way to Mouse's room. Her window overlooked an awning at the back of the house, which protruded out over the deck. Mouse had often used it as a teenager to sneak out of and back into her room late at night.

They used it now, quickly scrambling down onto the deck, hoping they wouldn't be seen. Once there it was a simple matter of going to the front of the house, walking in the door, and acting surprised.

"Mom! What are you doing here?"

"Hi, dear," she said, smiling, while gliding over to hug her children. "We came home early. Where have you two been?"

"Just walking," Mouse answered, beaming a smile and squeezing her in a tight, long hug.

"Where's Dad?"

"Down in the basement. Melanie said you smelled gas. I was just telling him that Melanie said we should get out of the house and call the gas company."

Michael glanced at Mouse, who was unusually meek and silent, under the circumstances.

"What? Gas? No, not really, I think she misunderstood," he said. "I mean, maybe, that's why we went out for some fresh air, but I checked it. It's nothing to worry about."

Their dad came out of the basement door as he was speaking.

"I don't think there's a gas leak. We'd know if there was. I didn't smell a thing."

"No, no, Mel is just over reacting. Hey, Dad, how was the trip? Why cut it short?"

"Can I make some tea for you, Mom?" Mouse asked.

Mouse walked into the kitchen, with her mother following, while Michael and his dad stood talking nonsense about the trip and weather and gas lines and explosions and dangers and other ridiculous things.

Mouse let her mother step past her, into the kitchen, so she could smile brightly back at Michael, making him feel like a hero, before backing in herself.

<8 Business

Melanie sat at the kitchen table, delicately sipping a diet Coke in a ray of hot sunlight that blasted through the large sliding glass door. Mouse drank her own with more gusto, in a better shaded seat. Michael was standing outside on the deck with the parents, looking out at the old tree, lamely stumbling through a rather thin explanation that he put the tire swing up as a joke.

As it was, the sliding door was open. Mouse really should let this conversation wait, but she couldn't contain herself any further.

They kept their voices low, but casual, while Mouse kept one eye on Michael and her parents, to be certain they didn't walk in at the wrong moment.

"So, what's the price?"

"You're not going to like it."

"I don't care. Name it. As long as it has nothing to do with Michael."

"It does."

Mouse held Melanie's eyes. She thought that Melanie had grown tired of interfering with them.

"What?"

"I want to watch you with Michael again."

"Melanie!"

Mouse turned hurriedly toward the deck, grateful that no one had taken any notice of her. Her voice had raised noticeably, instantly, in both pitch and volume.

Melanie was smiling rather timidly, uncharacteristically, at the table. Her eyes came up to meet Mouse's, sparkling with mischief.

"You're serious," Mouse said. "Again? I thought you swore off all bizarre sexual escapades. You're even paying for therapy. I thought it was prim, proper, sober mother and wife for you, 'til then end of your days."

"I never said 'til the end of my days."

"It's barely been a few months."

Melanie adopted a tight lipped smile as she once again stared at the table, while nervously fiddling with the salt shaker.

"I've been completely sober, and staying that way. I won't cheat there. That was the real problem, the serious one. I should never have deprived myself of sex, though. Wild sex, I mean. But I've been good. Without the alcohol, I've got better restraint, and better judgement. I think I deserve one little reward."

"No."

Melanie's eyes shot up again.

"What do you mean, 'no?' "

"No."

"Mouse, you have to. You promised. You owe me."

"No."

"Why not? I just want to watch. Secretly. You said you weren't afraid of me, with Michael. You said you were never remotely afraid of me stealing Michael."

"Exactly."

"Exactly? You're not afraid, so I can't watch again?"

"I'm not afraid, so I want you to join us."

"What?!"

This time it was Melanie that had sharply raised her voice. The trio on the deck still hadn't heard them. Dad was showing Michael the new barbeque grill he'd bought, with eight way temperature control and three tier convection heating, or whatever the hell he called it. It was the third time he'd shown it to poor Michael, while Mom kept trying to get Dad to stop repeating himself.

"What?" Melanie repeated, in a stage whisper.

"I want you to join us."

Melanie blinked back at her, expressionless. A quirky smile slowly spread over her face, like spilling milk, first widening and turning up the corners of her mouth, then lighting up her eyes.

"You are so fucking twisted."

Mouse smiled calmly back, eyebrows wiggling theatrically.

"Yes, we are," she said, with the emphasis on "we."

"An incestuous threesome?"

Melanie and Mouse both shot looks at their parents on the deck. She hadn't raised her voice this time, but the words were too damning. Dad and Mom were staring back at them, seemingly by coincidence. Their blank looks lasted only a moment, after which Mouse and Melanie both broke into nervous laughter.

"You are so fucking twisted," Melanie repeated, this time in a low, hoarse whisper.

"Will you do it?"

"Fuck yes."

"Good. Great."

"But why? Is this the finale for your sinful week of damning..." Melanie remembered to lower her voice further this time. "... incestuous sex?"

"Sort of. I think I owe Michael. It's for him. It's all for him."

Mouse met Melanie's eyes with a grin.

"Well," she continued, "it's mostly for him. I have three rules, though."

"I can't."

"You can't obey three rules?"

"I can't do it."

"Mel, come on."

"I can't. Look what happened the last time. I damn near..." Melanie lowered her voice once again. "I damn near fucked my own son."

"You won't do that. You never would have. And this won't set you off. I promise."

"And you know this how? Watching would be one thing. I thought I could hide, so Michael wouldn't know. I don't think I should cross that line again, though. I shouldn't be with Michael again. I have to show some restraint here. This is exactly what I was talking about."

"Imagine the expression on Michael's face, just at the sight of the two of us. Together. With him."

Melanie paused, her face momentarily clouding.

"Imagine all of the expressions he'll have. What will he do when he sees us kiss? How will he look at the moment he comes?"

Melanie began to smile, in spite of herself. She shifted in her seat.

"Okay, I have three rules."

"I haven't even agreed."

"Yes, you have. First rule. We pay you."

"Pay me?"

"Yes. You'll be our whore, bought and paid for."

Melanie lowered her head to look at Mouse disapprovingly from under her brow, but she did it with a smile.

"I could see where that could be fun."

"And second, as our whore, you do exactly as you're told."

Melanie raised her eyebrows at that.

"You do whatever I tell you to do, or Michael tells you. You don't give orders. You take what you get. You don't resist anything, at all."

Melanie stared at Mouse for a while. Mouse had seen this before. She was looking for weakness, waiting to see if Mouse would back down. Mouse didn't flinch.

"Fine. And third?"

"Third, Michael doesn't know about it before hand. We seduce him. Together. He doesn't know what's happening until we're into it. We totally freak him out."

Melanie grinned widely.

"Deal. Deal. Absolutely, it's a deal. If I don't chicken out."

"When?" Mouse asked. "I'm only here a few more days."

"Tonight."

"Tonight? You sure?"

"Yes. Or else I will chicken out. You tell Mom and Dad that you're staying at Michael's the rest of the week, since they've come home. Tell them you've gotten more used to the bed at his place, with all of your other stays there. You aren't sleeping well. Or that you can stay up later. Whatever you want."

"What about Dan?"

"I'll just tell him you and Michael and I are going out, for old time's sake. I'll be out too late and I don't want to drive home tired, so I'll plan on staying there, in the guest room. It will be a dinner out, a late night up having coffee, and a lot of reminiscing with my baby brother and sister."

"Okay. Can we go to dinner? Some place really private, and far away?"

"I'll think of something."

"I can't believe we're finally doing this."

"Finally?"

Mouse smiled evilly at her. This was going to be quite a wild way to end a rather long two week adventure.

Mouse had certainly fantasized about this enough, but hadn't really considered trying to make it happen, and certainly not since Mel's alcoholic episodes. It was a long time coming. It was a great end to Mouse's two weeks of fantasy sex. And this was exactly the reward that Michael had so dearly earned.

She almost felt like she'd won the lottery.

"Okay, now tell me all of your fantasies, what you've imagine. What do you want Michael to do for you?"

<8 Pleasure

The three of them went to the Riviera Club, an expensive but unpopular place some distance from Michael's house, and even further from Melanie's. It was a place where not only was it unlikely they'd see anyone they knew, but unlikely they'd ever see anyone there again.

Mouse had insisted on this, privately to Mel, because, she said, she and Melanie were going to drive Michael wild throughout dinner.

Melanie wore the same sexy gown that she'd flaunted at their parent's anniversary, the first night Mouse and Michael had made love. It was a tight, midnight-blue, sequined, not quite knee length dress, low in the front, open at the back, and sleeveless. It shimmered enticingly while hugging her curves, lifting her bust and showing off the creamy, soft flesh of her cleavage.

Mouse smiled whenever she caught Michael staring, and grinned whenever he knew he'd been caught. He'd mentioned that dress, and the vision of Melanie in it, more than once since that night. It had made quite an impression. Mouse had to admit, it suited Melanie well, very, very well.

Mouse wore something similar, in that it was tight, sleeveless, and open at the back, but it completely covered her chest and had a turtle neck, was far more comfortable, and far shorter. Her dress was flesh colored, patterned with irregular blackish brown tiger stripes, and made from crocheted lace, with a matching beret. She'd knitted it herself from thick yarn, like a sweater or a comforter, with wide gaps between the strands.

It draped over her like a large fishing net that had been drawn tight over it's catch, clinging to every curve of her body like a wet t-shirt. Beneath it, if she'd worn a bra or panties, one would have seen their cloth quite obviously through the gaps between the threads. She hadn't, so anyone daring enough to stare would realize that they could see the shadowy, dark, inviting circles of her aureolas, with her nipples nearly protruding through gaps in the thick yarn.

Mouse was pretty sure that the waiter had noticed.

Her pubic hair was not visible, because she had none. She had waxed herself clean regularly during the entire two weeks, and especially that morning.

Michael wore his best suit, looking ordinary and conservative, but handsome and appealingly powerful. It was a pin stripe that made him look like a wealthy banker, out for a polite, pleasant evening with his mature, sexy wife, Melanie, and what could only be a well paid secretary, or a young call girl, Mouse. Mouse was too old to be their daughter, and too young to be anything else.

Anyone thinking this would, of course, be wrong, because the young, sexy one was for all intents Michael's wife, while the older, curvaceous, reserved one, this evening, would soon be a well paid whore.

By common agreement, no alcohol was ordered by anyone. Melanie was, of course, on the wagon. Mouse, it was agreed by all, certainly didn't need any encouragement, chemical or otherwise. As for Michael, Melanie and Mouse conspiratorially agreed that the general effect of spirits on him was to quite simply put him to sleep, and that did not fit in with Mouse and Melanie's plans for the evening.

* * *

"You should have seen the look on Michael's face. As it was he could barely fit in the closet, with all the crap mom keeps in there. Between the contortions of his face and his body, I almost laughed out loud."

"I'm sure his expression was priceless."

Melanie's eyes twinkled in the candlelight over a beaming smile, aimed right at a half blushing Michael. She moved a hand to cover and squeeze his, then very deliberately left it there. Her skin was very warm, and soft. Michael glanced quickly, apprehensively at Mouse. She either didn't notice, or didn't care, so Michael relaxed and enjoyed the pleasing, innocent touch.

"Me? Do you think you were the calm, happy little delinquent?"

He directed that straight at Mouse, with eyebrows raised in expressive, questioning disbelief.

"When have I ever acted like a delinquent?"

Michael and Melanie laughed together at her. Michael moved to take his hand away, but Melanie squeezed it, making it too awkward for him to withdraw, so he left it where it was. He even squeezed back affectionately.

"No, really," Mouse argued. "I'm a bit wild, I'll admit, but I've never qualified as a delinquent."

"She really believes it. My God, she really believes it," Melanie said to Michael, as if Mouse weren't there.

"Oh, I know she does. She has absolutely no idea. She thinks she's perfectly normal."

"I am. I'm just not normal like everyone else," Mouse said, grinning.

"She has her own, private normalcy."

"And it's quite wonderful, I must admit," Michael added, with a loving look that made Mouse blush and look away.

"Well, I have to visit the ladies room," Mouse said, rising, while pulling her skirt down at the back with a rather sexy tug and wiggle. The dress tended to ride up, and reveal things that shouldn't be revealed in public. Michael felt his heart pick up pace at the sight, and the thought.

As she passed behind Michael, she placed two startlingly hot hands on his shoulders, then used her thumbs to caress either side of his neck. She very gently kissed the top of his head, lingering briefly, allowing him to feel the moist warmth of her breath on his scalp.

Michael reached up to hold one of her warm hands, with the one that Melanie didn't hold possessively. He looked up to see Mouse smiling down at him, teeth white and gleaming behind shining lips, dark eyes twinkling, before she retreated, reluctantly slipping the smooth, soft flesh of her hand from his.

When Michael looked back at Melanie, himself smiling a little bashfully at their public show of affection, Melanie was beaming at him. He had expected her to be looking away in embarrassment, or even giving him a silent, scolding look. Instead she inhaled deeply, expanding her chest, so that the alluringly bare flesh of her cleavage rose and grew, threatening to shoot some of the sequins off of the dress like popcorn.

Michael stared brazenly, before bringing his eyes under control and wresting them away, back to his dinner plate. He felt his balls tighten in ill considered excitement, then tried to shake the feeling away. Still, he couldn't resist another glance back at her bosom, where she her randomly used one hand to toy with the necklace hanging between her breasts, while using the thumb of her other hand to stroke his still captive knuckles pleasingly.

* * *

An hour later, Melanie was still holding Michael's hand as he signed the credit receipt with the other. She simply wouldn't, and hadn't, let go, except when decorum dictated it, to allow him to cut and eat his food. He didn't understand why Mouse wasn't throwing fits, but she simply sat, comfortably relaxed, on his other side, across from Melanie, smiling contentedly.

After he put the pen down, Mouse grabbed that now free hand in both of hers, proceeding to stroke it much as she might pet a small animal. Michael sat there, a little dazed by all of the obvious, physical affection he was receiving from his two sisters. He glanced down at the dark circles of Mouse's nipples, then over at Melanie's expansive bust, then into each of their eyes in turn.

Something was going on. He wanted to ask, but thought better of it. So far, it was nothing bad. They were setting him up, he was sure, and he was going to have to be on his guard, but so far, he was in control. He'd be ready for them. He'd try to make sure that in the end the joke was on them, or at least that he wasn't too entirely and foolishly the butt of it.

"Let's get going," he told them. "I picked up some eclairs at the bakery today, and put them in the fridge. We can have them with coffee back at the house."

* * *