A Different Kind of Therapy Ch. 08

My legs opened and Jennifer moved closer, kissing me, her dildo pushed up between our bellies. The dryer's vibrations throbbed through both of us. I was so aware of her being a woman, of the difference in our ages, in our nakedness. I had never done anything like this with Bob. But here I was, with a girl a few years older than Alison.

"I like the way you kiss," Jennifer said. "But you're going to love this."

She backed up half a step and grabbed the dildo in her hand and pointed it directly at my opening. Then she moved forward, sliding the pink plastic cock deep inside of my very slippery opening. Oh, damn, it felt good.

The pulses of the spinning dryer gave me one sensation, the thrusts of her dildo gave me another. I was already close from everything that had happened so far. "Fuck, oh fuck me," I remember calling out just as an orgasm washed over me. Jennifer kept going, still pumping her dildo in and out of me through the orgasm and after. I lost track of the comes she gave me. It felt like one building into another flowing into another, shuddering, screaming into yet another. Her lips found my nipples and sucked, sending me over another edge, even though she'd stopped pumping. The dildo was still inside of me, and the dryer still spun beneath me, and her sucking my nipple was all I needed to come again.

Damn.

Jennifer slipped her dildo out of me and helped me down onto my very shaky legs. She guided me to sit in the cold plastic chair where I sometimes put the laundry basket. Then she reached down to start to unbuckle the harness that held the dildo. "Did you know, Mrs. B. that when I used to baby sit for you, when the kids were in bed, I used to come down here and turn on your washing machine right to the spin cycle. Then I'd take off my pants and get up there and play with myself. Did it almost every time. Sometimes I hoped you'd catch me." She slipped the dildo out of the leather straps. "I didn't have a dildo then though."

I watched her climb on top of the washer just as the spin cycle started. I watched, fascinated, as she took the dildo and thrust it into her smooth, shaved, cunt, sliding it in and out. "Oh God, Mrs. B. this is good. Oh god. Mmmm. You should try this some time. Uh. Uh. Oh yeah. Fuuuck. It's so good. Not like getting fucked by someone, but good when you don't have a choice. Fuck. Yeah. Oh, nice. Coming...." I couldn't tell what shudders where hers and what were caused by the washing machine.

She fucked herself all through the spin cycle, obviously enjoying herself the whole time. And I didn't look away once. I was absolutely entranced.

She slipped the dildo out of herself and slid off the washer when it slowed down. "Clean that off for me, Mrs. B." she said, handing the dildo for me. I knew she didn't mean with soap and water. I found myself eager to taste her again and I sucked the dildo into my mouth like a slut. Like the slut Dr. Gupta told me I was, I guess.

Jennifer took the dildo back from me and told me we should head back upstairs. Mostly ignoring me, she trotted up the stairs. I followed her out of the cellar and back up to my room. She was buttoning her blouse when I got up there. She'd left her bra off. "Better get dressed, Mrs. B. Alison'll be home soon."

"Oh shit," I thought. I pulled jeans out of my bureau and new panties and a bra and a blouse. Jennifer headed down the stairs before I could really start to get dressed. I heard the front door open when she was still on the stairs.

Rushing to pull on my clothes I heard Alison's excited greeting of Jennifer and Jennifer's happy reply. They moved away from the stairs and I stopped being able to hear them. I finished dressing and was about to head down, then I noticed Jennifer's bra on the floor next to her backpack and her coat on the chair. Her dildo and harness were still on the bed. I stuffed the bra and dildo in her backpack and brought them downstairs with me, looking for my daughter and the woman who'd just fucked me.

I found them in the family room, catching up on old times. Alison seemed oblivious to Jennifer's breasts pressing into her blouse or her disheveled look. (She was almost always oblivious to how I looked.) They talked for a while as I stood there silently, trying to come up with an excuse for why I was standing there holding Jennifer's knapsack and coat like a hired servant.

I was especially nervous when Jennifer said, "You're gonna be 18 soon, right, Ali?"

"Three weeks. I'm not sure what I'm doing. Probably we'll have a sleep over. Do you want to come?"

Jennifer looked at me. I must have been white. "I can't," she said. "But how about I take you out to dinner sometime for your birthday."

"Sounds like fun," Alison said.

"Cool. Give me your number, I'll call you."

Alison rattled off her numbers and Jennifer put them into her tablet. Where'd she get that? I thought. She'd left it in the kitchen. She must have grabbed it when she came down.

"Ali, I can't wait to catch up more, but I have to get going. I got thesis writing to do."

Alison walked Jennifer to the door. Jennifer grabbed her knapsack and coat from me as she went by. I just watched them, leaning back against the wall, hoping it would hold me up.