How much longer until we dine?

Meanwhile, in the primary guest room on the first floor, a certainly not heated exchange was underway.

"What?"

"You know 'what'."

"No, not really, I don't."

Thud. "Don't give us that Mary."

"Yeah, Mary, I can't believe you."

"What?" The blonde, in her own sectioned compartment of the room, (in which all three of them had their own, with the simple help of a wheel-able divider), shrugged off her one-piece, reaching for her casual cocktail dress. "You ladies are being a bit of a thorn right now, don't you think?"

"Very funny, Mary," scoffed Rena, who was pulling up her trousers in the middle section of the room. Button.

Laureen brushed her rich red hair in front of the mirror and closed in to check her teeth. Dazzling white. "Yes, Mary. Quite contrary."

The stony Rena laughed curtly at that, as did Laureen, except with not nearly as much 'curt'. The light-heartedness in a whole wasn't all that much light in heart as it would appear in first sheen. Under the surface, after all, bubbled an odd to place tension. One that must have been fueled by some universal shirk of knowledge, amongst these three alone.

When cleaned up and dressed, they exited the room, assembling in the threshold of the hallway by the seating area.

"Hello, ladies! Looking swell."

What they found, to their amazement, was Janice Doe waiting for them to inform them that dinner was ready and presently being served in the dining hall.

No surprise was that. The serving, the dinner, or Janice's being there. All routine. But the woman's utter nakedness, in the flesh? Her hot baby bottom and sultry breasts in full display right before them? THAT made the rounds, alright.

That was incredibly unusual. Particularly out of character for the very self-minded, and conscientious, Janice Doe. Even if sometimes she fucked her son. But, of course, that part was simply... extracurricular.

"Um, Janice..."

"Janice, dear," Rena curled a finger, interrupting Laureen in the process, "you are really walking around your house like that?"

The woman, chin-length brunette hair her only coating, could only meet their confusion with a confused laugh of her own. "Like what, Rena? I'll be dressed up out of my swimsuit in a bit, don't fret."

"But you are, Janice," Mary choked, "you are!"

"I know you have the fittest body here, my sweet," cooed Laureen, "but surely, there's a classier way to express this than through the partaking in the naturalist discipline?"

Wrinkling her brow, Janice looked down, and gasped to herself as a shadow of dawning finally overcame her. "Oh my god!"

"Yeah," nodded Mary, either a look of sympathy or concern on her own set of eyes. "I know."

"OH, my god," repeated Janice, this time in the fang of a whisper as she first tried to cover herself, then, after nearly a half-minute of undue silence, to justify herself. Rationalize it all, with some dignity to salvage, at least. "Well, it seems... I may have accidentally left my swimsuit outside."

"Might have been the case." Laureen folded her arms with auspicious amusement, one might have gleaned upon a sideways glance.

"Here you go, dear." Exercising no little amount of resourcefulness, Rena quickly swiped one of the towels from under the table to pass to the clothes-less, bare-all lady before them. "Don't mind us. Just take your time and put on something. We'll wait for you inside."

Hastily, yet appreciatively, their host for the evening accepted the towel, thanked her, (as well as apologized), and scurried up the stairwell on her firm, enticingly smooth legs.

Rena, Laureen, and Mary proceeded into the dining hall, which stretched out before them in a grand flourish. It wasn't mansion-wide, but it gaped. Enough room was there for multiple rooms, all-in-one. It comprised of two bookending furnaces, a large chandelier suspended over the yawning table at the center, a flatscreen TV, a set of bookshelves, and an obligatory taxidermy display on one sliver of wall. A lion, a boar. Even a tiger. Who knew if they signified anything; it was never something most guests bothered to ask about, and that included Rena, Mary, and Laureen. Most of the time, they simply tried not to stare at it mid pork slice.

And alas it was so. How these three might have stood back with raised brows and curled lip corners, ooh-ing and ahh-ing with no shortage of aggrandizement, had they not been here multiple times before. In this instance, one of numerous such cases in which novelty had been traded for familiarity, they simply took their chairs on either side; Rena and Mary on one, Laureen on her own across from them. With them on each side stood a maid, at the ready, not too close.

"And now, we wait." An impetuous Mary folded her arms across the table and tapped their length with her fingers. She took this chance to look around, aimlessly, at not much of anything, the thin dress draped over her body dipping slightly into her cleavage, yet also not so slightly.

Laureen grabbed a bottle of wine and popped it open, whose own fitting yet free flowing dress punctuated certain valleys of flesh with elegant yet ever attention-drawing nebulousness. "Just a pinch," she assured.

"Uh-huh," abetted Rena.

After a quick pour, the voluptuous redhead swirled it around in her glass and raised it to her lips for a harmless swallow.

As my mom scampered over to her room and closed the door to get changed, I figured she was finally given a heads-up, and fell back-first into the bed.

My mother's body was a boner resurrector, no doubt. She made a living instructing everybody from fashionistas to Jennifer Aniston to even royal duchesses in the great school of yoga and self-regulation. And that was only half of what she did.

Yeah. She's great, isn't she?

Sigh.

I'm such a mama's boy.

In spite of myself, I grabbed the book from the top drawer of my desk.

Creak.

Janice turned her head from the mirror, just having finished up her eyelashes. She was currently in an airy white blouse with slight frills that stopped just above her waist, and in a tight set of trousers which were wrapped around her legs like miracle makers at work.

"John? You--"

"When I snap my finger, you will be unable to 'consciously' perceive me and will forget that I was ever there and not really worry about where I may have gone. Any ramification of something I do you will wave off and regard as fixable or inconsequential. My actions will appear invisible to you, even if they are directed to you. You will be able to physically react to them, but socially and mentally, it would be as if I was never here doing any of it. When I snap my finger again, you will be able to 'consciously' perceive me like normal again, and suspect nothing of the things that happened earlier, or how I got there, even if you're left a little curious about it. If we were already interacting before, you will pick up from where we last left off as if nothing unusual ever happened. You will now forget I ever gave you these commands."

When I looked up from my book, my mother had returned to gussying up -- and to lecturing me. "John, you shouldn't be in here, you know. This is my room."

"Sorry, Mom."

"If you have something to ask or say, go ahead. I'll hear you out now that we have the time."

"Well, there is something," I mulled.

"What is it?" she brushed through the fringes across her forehead.

Instead of a verbal answer, I raised my fingers and snapped them together. My mother didn't so much as flinch. Looks like to get any hint of results at all, we needed to go straight to experimentation. After carefully placing my book on her bed, I approached her, and gently clasped my hand over her eyes.

Buh-bum. Buh-bum.

Nothing. She reacted with nothing, not even an utterance. My heart jumped a little. There she sat, getting ready. Now immobile, patiently waiting, it seemed, for my hand to get out of the way so she could return to looking at herself in the mirror. Courteously, I removed my hand from over her eyes. Getting the picture, my mom continued with her hair-grooming. Meanwhile, I moved my hands downward, slowly feeling down her neck. Then the solidity of her collarbone, my finger outlining its shape, while her arms stretched at sharp angles to get her moderately short but sweet hair just right. Then over and down her smooth, malleable upper chest, until finally, I was groping, squeezing, and gratuitously lifting her perfectly sized breasts in front of her.

"Nice tits, Mom." Not even giving me a second's glance, my mother simply continued with her self preparations. I leaned down to make myself a little more easily heard. "Mom! I said you have nice tits!! Look, I'm squeezing them right now!"

Squeeze, squeeze.

"See..??"

Still... nothi--

"Okay, really?"

I froze at the sound of my mother's voice. However, as my pupils darted to my mother's face in the mirror, I realized she wasn't looking at me.

To my surprise, she stood up, causing my hands to jerk over her tits and nipples and, eventually, out of the way as she walked around me to get something at the end table by her bed. She pulled out a handbag and began rummaging through it before finally taking out a hairband and carefully setting it down over her head, keeping her hair in place. I stood there admiring her beautiful face and titillating bod. Amazing how well a thing like that could fit her, even at her age. She was a beaut that looked the experience she had, but also betrayed it, broadly and sexily so.

Snap!

My mother's eyes seemed to glaze over a shrink at the sound of my clicking fingers, then slid over to me. "Well? Have you figured out what you want to tell me yet?"

Breathe in.

"One more fuck? Please?" I clapped my hands together in earnest, unable to hold it back any longer.

At my request, Janice Doe just looked at me, sighed, then finally dropped her hands to her side and, ridiculously, began pulling her pants down. "Fine, but only this last time for the day, okay? Don't get me wrong, from mother to son, I enjoy fucking you, John, but I'm getting a little worn out... and I still have to properly clean myself out down there."

"YES!" With grand enthusiasm I fist pumped the air, rubbed my dick as my mom's thighs and legs came into view, and leaped into her unprepared arms as I barraged her with kisses all across her face. Despite her lethargy, she laughed a little and hugged my butt with her hands as she sat back onto the bed under the weight of my body, and began to grind her vagina against my hard as nails dick. I carnally thrusted back.

We quickly began to undress, and then fucked like bunnies.

Again.

And again.

"Soo we wait."

"You said that already, Mary," prodded Laureen, before taking another sip of wine.

Rena rolled her eyes as she watched the redhead prepare another glass, and beckoned towards her with a finger. "Pass the bottle, Laureen."