Lydia Goes Home

Lydia strolled home, feeling lively, invigorated, fully charged, and freed of being stir crazy. She felt as if her hesitation had made her mind hazy, the new found clarity of thought laden with desire and wanton thoughts and ideas of how to improve her day.

Other people's days.

And displays for more.

Her sundress hung beneath peeking nipples, the tips hard as eraser nubs on pencils periodically slippong above to top hem, the dark pink areolas circling them drawing people's attention to where they surfaced into view.

The straps hung lazily off her shoulders, as the center of the dress seemed to squeeze on her body, emphasizing the shelf of breasts ready to spill free, and the ass and hips over which it flared.

Lydia delighted in the pull on people’s attention, her smile, and knowing eyes locking eagerly as she cheerfully engaged with any on looker close enough for a friendly hello or how are you today.

Her corrupted mind delighting on the perverse thoughts that seemed to manifest in her mind of the others person’s impression on them with each engagement.

Be it a desire to see her tits spilling free, her lips around a cock, her tits in someone’s face, or a woman wildly fucking her husband in a jealous rage as she kept the threat of some slut from occupying her man.

Getting home to her building she casually strutted about the lobby, pausing outside the Super’s office. Pulling a sheet from a wall mounted file folder she took the tethered pen and hastily filled out a maintenance request. Pausing to think of what service she needed she thoughts about the visions earlier, of Brandie passing through this door, and giving herself to the Super in use of the Idol. Feeling her breasts moisten Lydia smirked. Her taps were leaking dreadfully, and she wanted to see what could be done. Meandering the halls, lively skipping up the stairs she strutted herself feeling the ambience of the Idol's energy through the building. Its energies growing stronger, more prevalent like an ambient air freshener lingering through the halls in the wake of some cleaner spreading it. The prevalence of its energy feeling more prevalent as if emanating from her apartment door. Lydia found herself smiling at the delightful music to her ears barely escaping her apartment door before she opened it.

Lydia just knew what had happened.

It was happening to all of them. Slower to everyone else, but it was inevitable. It was feeding the empowerment and influence overcoming them all.

Who wouldn’t want to fuck with how good, how hard not to, that small statuette made it.

How many of her neighbours had dreamed of seeing Lydia fuck now? Had dreamed of fucking Lydia on their own now? Now even dreamed about laying with the darkness themselves?

Lydia made note to invite Brandie over later. She just felt proximity of the acts to the Idol would enrich, amd strengthen everything.

Pressing her key into the lock, Lydia couldn’t wait any longer. As the deadbolt failed to tumble open Lydia turned the handle and entered the apartment left unlocked in the urgent return home.

“Mary, I’m home!” Lydia declared enthusiastically, smirking devilishly as the door thudded closed behind her.

“OH GAWD!!” Were the only words in response, the smack of flesh impacting, the heavy panted uneven breathing, moans, and grunts unabated as Lydia found herself strangely delighted by her daughter’s slipping to the Idol’s whim.

It was better she didn't question what she was doing, and just accepted, no embraced it.

How could Lydia deny her daughter the pleasure, joy, and vibrancy that Lydia now knowing accepted. Walking deeper into the apartment Lydia followed the trail of hastily removed and discarded garments, both her daughter's, and a boy's. Before approaching and pushIng open the half closed door to her daughter’s room.

The door having never been fully closed in the urgency with which its two occupants had come into it. There rocking back and forth the was Mary, on all fours on the bed like a dog, being fucked roughly by Mark leaning over Mary from behind.

Mary’s only response to her mother walking in being to bury her face in her pillow, unable to dare to stop fucking, and afraid of what she might say, hear, or even do if she confronted the fact of her mother catching them.

She didn’t know how Mark was reacting, other than their rutting growing seemingly wilder, and more exciting. Mark staring at Lydia as he enjoyed her flashing her tits from her dress, and fondling herself momentarily for his enjoyment.

Leaving Mark wondering just what Lydia might do next.