Of love in different kinds

Later that afternoon, Stacy found herself lounging on her own bed for once… idly flicking through some of the latest pictures Mark had taken of her, picking out which ones should be sent off to Pete for editing and posting on their website. They’d become quite an efficient team by now… producing and displaying smutty images of her daily erotic misadventures. They’d actually built up quite a following of invisible, international well-wishers who tuned in and presumably zoomed-in, on every indecent showing she gave them. The cutesy, school-notebook stylings Pete applied around every cum-covered depiction seemed to go down swimmingly. He’d even started adding little ‘handwritten’ diary articles like the ones she’d actually showed him. Just fantasised day-to-day recountings of all the dirty little things she’d been getting up to. The pair of them took it in turns to write them… and shared giggling, gleeful joy in making this fictional version of her just the sweetest little nympho. Somehow writing it all down as if it was a separate character, only made Stacy want to slip into those shoes even further. She wondered whether her friend realised that a lot of the stuff about her interactions with teachers and co-workers was actually true.

And now she had shown them Lydia’s true colours… And been fucked by Mark in the arms of his very own Mother. Even in her wildest dreams, the girl hadn't imagined she could live out such wonders. It was as if, once she had stopped putting limits on, and hiding from, her own desires… all the world had opened up and been drawn in to bend to those ideals. Was she the luckiest little slut in the universe? Or had there always been this horny underbelly to everyone around her, and she just hadn't been able to see it?

What it did mean... was that these brief moments of 'normality'. Where she was stuck in her boring house with her boring parents, unable to even masturbate in front of a camera for fear of being intruded on... Absolutely unbearable. They'd insisted she come out for a 'family meal' with them, to make up for how little they'd all been together recently. It was hard not to show the utter disdain she had for the idea… when she could be further exploring the fine dining opportunities with Mark and his stripper Mom. What if those two were left alone too long and started to get second thoughts about what happened?! Some guilty part of Stacy still feared she might have put the love and balance of that household at risk by placing her body between them. Yet, she also wanted nothing more than to dive into the bosom of that older woman she truly thought of as a second mother, and let her watch her real offspring invade this adopted one once more. What did her parents know about any of that? Who did they even see when they looked at her?

"See, isn't this nice!" Her father claimed, as they were seated at a snow-white table in the centre of a bustling restaurant. Stacy was already beginning to amuse herself by waggling suggestive eyebrows at one of the waiters, and surreptitiously letting him see that she wasn't wearing a bra under the 'pretty dress' she'd been told to wear. She knew her attempts were successful when he leaned in to pour the wine and water. Maybe this trip wouldn't be a complete waste, after all…

The food was nice and the mindless chatter at least tolerable. They were slightly worried that her grades seemed to be slipping, but had heard ‘very good things’ from Mr Banks, who apparently was already talking about ‘keeping her on’ after the placement had finished. Stacy already knew that… she’d been ‘keeping herself on’ the man himself, while that conversation had taken place. Fucking her while currently on the phone to her father was still one of his favourite games to play, and Stacy had to admit she thoroughly enjoyed it too. Though she was a little worried she was going to start getting a little wet every time she heard that irritating, nasally voice Dad put on whenever he thought a phonecall was important. That was not a Pavlovian response she wanted…

Before dessert, she excused herself from the table. Heading off toward the ladies room. She was a little surprised to hear her mother’s voice drift in from the stall next door a few minutes later:

“Stacy? Are you okay in there?”

Struggling to reply through a mouth full of waiter-cock, the teen offered only an affirmative “mmm-hmm”.

“That’s good… We’ve just been seeing so little of you lately… I worry I wouldn’t even know if you were getting sick… Or some other problem. You’ve been looking a little thin and tired all the time too… You’re not…”

The muffled voice faltered for a moment.

“You know you can always come to me to talk about anything right…? Even… boys and things…”

She thinks I’ve developed an eating disorder! Realised Stacy, trying not to gag on the lump of meat she was certainly swallowing suitably. That noise would certainly encourage suspicions. Still, her heart broke a little to realise her family were worrying about her… even if it was in the wrong ways. They probably thought there was some kind of love-triangle going on between her, Mark and Peter… or that she was worried about not having a ‘proper’ boyfriend. All the kind of teen-movie bullshit that she hated the most… but still not the sort of anxieties she wanted to instil. They weren’t that bad, her clueless parents… They just didn’t, couldn’t, see who she really was. She pulled herself loose of the awkward-looking waiting staff’s member.

“I’m okay, Mom… Really. I’m just… finding out who I wanna be. I’ll be out in a minute okay… give me some space.”

“Okay, hun…” Came the reply, closely followed by the sound of doors opening and closing.

Stacy finished the young man off with her hands, not really paying attention. Which meant she had to wipe herself off with some tissues shortly after. He scarpered as she headed back to the table…

If he came back round again, she didn’t notice. She spent dessert dredging up old in-jokes with her family. Chuckling along with them as they had once all done regularly. Perhaps this was important too.