The incest video interviews chapter 14A
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SamChapter 14A free porn video
Sue buttoned up her blouse, but she let me continue to pet her pussy while Neeka drove us to the mall. By the time we got there, she had had another two milder orgasms and she was smiling so widely that we could see every tooth in her head. She didn't even put up much of a fight when I refused to give her panties back to her, insisting instead that she go commando until she could get something that would let her show off her muscular ass without panty-lines.
"OK, you win. It needs to cool off anyway. It was so hot a little while ago it should be steaming!" she said, running a brush through her short auburn hair. The three of us tried to primp as well as we could before getting out of the car so it wouldn't be terribly obvious what we had been up to.
Sue didn't wear makeup, but her hair was a mess. As usual, my makeup needed no touch-up, but I wiped my juicy face clean with a moist towelette from Neeka's glove compartment and I pretended to add some blush from her compact for the sake of credibility and so Sue wouldn't feel rushed. Neeka combed out her red tresses so they cascaded over her freckled shoulders. We three were going to be a beauty pageant on parade while we shopped.
"It sure was!" I agreed. "But you needed it."
"I sure did. I can't remember the last orgasm I had, but none have been that good. Now, I feel so wonderfully relaxed! I must have needed that really, really badly."
"I think you have a few more coming."
"Are you going to give them to me?"
"We'll see. You had fun, didn't you? What did you like the best?"
"You pretending to arrest me. I thought it was for real at first. You made me so scared. Then you made me so wet I forgot about being scared. Then you made me have an orgasm and I forgot everything. Did we really do that in the parking lot at school?"
"Yeah. You had the car rocking real good. People were looking in and knocking on the windows and everything!"
"You tease! Oh, Sam! This is so much fun! I haven't felt like this in a long time. Thank you! Thank you too, Neeka."
"Always happy to make a new friend, Sue. But I'll be glad when Sam gets her driver's license. Then I get a chance to ride in back and have fun!"
"You have a badge, but not a driver's license? You're a funny kind of policeman. That is a real badge, isn't it?"
"It sure is. But it's just for emergencies. Sue, I'm going to tell you something that you have to promise me you will keep to yourself, OK?"
"I promise." She even made the cross-your-heart-hope-to-die gesture that I hadn't seen since I was 9. She was so terribly cute that I wanted to hug her. She was having a great time escaping from her 'Coach' persona and reverting back to the happier days of her life. I still didn't know what happened to her to make her need this, but she was obviously so happy now that I thought we should indulge her as long as possible.
"OK, I'm not a 'real' cop. I'm not running a sting for child molesters, like you thought. I'm not investigating anyone at school. I'm what you'd call a Special Agent and this is my cover."
"You mean like a secret identity?"
"Damn," I thought, to Neeka and to myself. "She caught onto that awful quick."
"She saw you vault the car," Neeka answered back, silently. "She saw the police car jump a couple of times, but she doesn't know it was because you picked it up. She didn't ask me a thing, she just waited patiently for you to come back."
"Kind of," I agreed. "But I'd have to be a Superhero to need one of those!" We all giggled at that. At least two of us were forcing it. I wasn't too sure about the third. "All I can tell you without breaking my cover is that I am more than I appear to be and I have special status with local law enforcement agencies. I'm afraid I really shouldn't be any more specific than that. For your own good, you see."
'Oh! I get it," she said. "You do undercover work! Because no one would suspect you in a million years, you can go places and do things that the police can't."
"Exactly!"
"It must be very dangerous work."
"Sometimes. But it can be very rewarding, too."
"I guess that explains some of the things I noticed about you in my class. You seemed to be holding back on many of the exercises. You're stronger than you look."
"Yes. I am more than I appear to be. But isn't everyone?"
"Perhaps. It would be nice to think so, at least. Don't worry. I will keep your secrets, Sam."
Her use of the plural made me think that she had already been doing just that. If so, Sue was already a true friend.
Neeka helped us out of the cramped backseat and we walked up the ramp to the mall entrance. On the way Neeka made a suggestion.
"Sue, you need some heels. Those running shoes don't do a thing for your legs."
"Oh, I don't wear heels. I don't have single pair in my closet."
"You should," I said. "You have a really killer pair of legs. You need to show them off more. Heels will certainly help. So would a shorter skirt. That one is almost past your knees."
"OK, but not too short. I don't like them so short I can't sit down in them."
"Well how about some shorts? You'd look great in shorts."
"That might be OK. Let's see what we can find."
My first stop was a pay phone near the food court where I called home to let Bambi know where I was. As I stood with my hand on the phone, I thought about how I would never have been anywhere near the mall without Yvette to chaperone me, if I had somehow made it here by myself, I would never in a million years have thought of calling her to let her know where I was. It was silly, but my hands were shaking so bad I could barely dial the stupid phone. I was so conditioned that for me to call home now felt like an escaped prisoner calling the police to report her whereabouts.
I jumped when she answered the phone almost immediately. She must have been sitting right next to it to have got to it that fast.
"Reynolds residence."
"Hi, Mom. It's me." I had an impulse to explain who 'me' was.
"Hi, honey. I'm glad you called. I was beginning to wonder if you had got sidetracked on the way home." 'Sidetracked' being another word for 'kidnapped' in my case.
"I'm sorry if I worried you. I'm fine. Neeka and I are taking a friend shopping for some clothes. We'll be home before supper, I promise."
"That's fine, honey. You have a nice time. Have Monique call if you get... delayed."
"I sure will. Oh, Mom? I just found the credit card in my wallet. Thanks. Thanks so much!" I think some of my original exuberance crept back into my voice.
"Well, you're certainly welcome. Let me know if the line of credit is too low. I had them set it at $7500 to start."
For a moment, I was stunned. I pulled my bag to me protectively. Mom was going to get the nicest present I could find.
"Oh, I think that will be fine. I can't imagine what I could possibly spend... I promise I'll use it wisely."
"I know you will, honey. I trust you."
Those three words were the most precious thing she could possibly given me. I knew I would never be able to repay Bambi for everything she had done for me if I tried hard every day for the rest of my life. Tears welled up in my eyes and I sniffed.
"Are you OK?" she asked. "You're not catching a spring cold are you?"
"No, Mom. Really, I'm fine. I'm just really happy right now. I love you."
"I love you too, honey. You have fun and let me know if you will be late."
"I will. Bye now."
"Bye."
Not 'get yourself home this instant'. Not 'be home by 5pm or else'. Not even 'who is the friend you are with'. Just 'have fun and let me know'. Freedom is truly a precious thing, and trust is worth all the gold cards and lines of credit in the world, I realized as I hung up the phone.
Since it was after school, the mall was full of kids just hanging out. As expected, we attracted some attention. There were several turned heads and the occasional whistle as we made our way to Eva's Boutique, a store that specialized in girls' underwear and lingerie. There were more than a few dirty looks from girls used to lesser competition and also a few admiring looks from some others, too.
One girl even smiled at me 'that way'. I did my best to look pleased and to smile back. Her girlfriend saw our exchange and pulled her aside as we passed. I caught some of the conversation.
"What's she got that I haven't got?"
"Be serious. You've got the same thing. She just has more of it."
"Those are NOT real!"
If I'd heard that once, I'd heard it a hundred times at school before I got Sandra Smith to authenticate them on behalf of everyone. It annoyed me, but it didn't make me mad. People choose to believe things that bolster their own egos. If you have to make that happen by putting down others, it says something about you. I thought it was interesting that I had never once heard a boy make that comment. I'm sure that boys don't award points for degree-of-difficulty. I think they just appreciate how you look without wondering how you managed it, or if you 'cheated'.
In Eva's we helped Sue pick out some underwear that she could wear and not have panty lines mess up the view of her marvelous behind. It took some persuading, but Neeka and I finally convinced her that it was a crying shame to have spent all that time working on her body not to show it off properly. She still balked at the g-strings we wanted her to get, but she did go for a couple of pairs of simple low-cut bikinis, some spandex thongs in a variety of colors, and a pair of lacy boy-shorts that were very sheer.
I think the last ones were aimed at me. I realized I was going to have to see her in her sweats with her cap and whistle and wonder if she had on that very sexy pair of transparent shorts underneath it all. I suggested as much to her, and the smile she gave me said that if she hadn't been planning that before, she certainly was now.
Our next stop was the big department store that anchored the mall on the west end. Sue and Neeka were both about 5' 8", but Sue's tight rear put her more on the small end of the scale and she and I looked through some shorts while the more hippy member of our group looked at the other racks.
While Sue pawed through a selection of shorts that would be a little loose on me, I looked wistfully at some very nice blouses that just didn't seem to come in my size. The salesgirl who tried to help took one look at me and shook her head sadly while her eyes remained fixed on my chest. She consulted with an older clerk who made sure that no other customers or store personnel were in earshot before she suggested another establishment I might try.
"Now I'm not sure of the name, but it's just a couple of blocks away. It's expensive, but I've heard nothing but good things from the, ah, fuller-figured women who shop there."
"You mean Mr. Morton's shop? As a matter of fact, I have quite a few things from there. You're right. He's excellent. Some of your things look just as nice, though and I was hoping you might have some of them in my size."
The news that I was a good customer of Morton's and that I found this store's merchandise to be of comparable quality meant that we were treated like royalty the entire time we were there. The senior clerk never left us for a second and even checked us out personally once Sue and Neeka had made their selections.
Once we were back in the mall, Sue said, "Well, I've never had such good service before! How did you do that?"
"I told them who made most of my clothes. That convinced them that I was a customer they wanted to please, even if they couldn't fit me. They think I might give them some good word of mouth."
"I think I want to go shopping with you all the time. They wouldn't have been impressed hear that most of my clothes came from SportsTown. Where do we go next?"
"Shoes. You pick me out some good running shoes and I'll pick you out some heels."
Sue knew more about running shoes than I ever knew there was to know. She specified the exact brand and style I needed and explained how to put them on, how tightly to tie them, and how to take care of them after I had run in them. The first pair I tried on felt like they were weightless and that they had been custom-made for me.
We had a bit more of a problem with her heels. She had almost as much trouble in anything that did not have a rubber sole as I had in the tall mules I had tried to wear. Eventually she accepted a pair with an ankle-strap that would keep them on her feet even if she were to try to walk out of them.
When we had Sue a complete outfit, we went back to the department store, where they graciously allowed us to use their fitting room to do the conversion. As it turned out, the clerk was able to sell us a few accessories to go along with what we had already. She even booked Sue for a make-over in the cosmetics department immediately afterwards.
The clothes made a huge difference. The short-shorts fit perfectly and their khaki color made them seem to disappear against her tan. The white, almost-sheer blouse showed off her boobs very well without exposing too much skin and the heels made the muscles in her legs bunch and her butt roll in a way that would mess with the head of any male she passed.
The cosmetics took five years off her age and accented her soft brown eyes to give her beauty another focal point. The cosmetics clerk made a nice commission on the things Sue bought after a group of college guys walking past stopped to admire the result and tried to get her to come to a frat party. The fact that they made the same proposal to all three of us didn't matter in the slightest to her. It was the first time in years that she had been approached like that and she loved it. She even took note of the time and place for the party and told them that she'd check her schedule.
After the college guys had left, I asked her, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? Do you know what those parties are like for the girls who go without dates?"
"No, what?"
"They will make you drunk, get you naked and before you know it, you'll be having sex with all of them, right there in the living room."
Sue turned several shades of red while she thought about that. She seemed to find the idea very interesting and quite stimulating. I didn't do any more to try to talk her out of it. If she wanted to be a party-girl, that was her choice. I was on the side of the frat boys, anyway. I wanted to get her naked and hot in my living room, too.
"Do you have anything to wear to the party if you decide to go?"
"No. I don't have anything other than the dark-brown dress I wore to the faculty mixer they had at the start of the school year. It has half-sleeves and comes down to mid-calf."
"That may not be suitable for this party," I told her. "You need something a lot sexier if you will be doing some serious partying."
"Let's try the Gilded Lily," Neeka suggested. "They have party dresses."
The Gilded Lily was way off the beaten track, up a side passage that looked like it led to the loading docks. It was next to a shop that sold electronic games and the area looked like a hangout for boys a few years younger than Neeka and me. We paraded into the shop without paying them much attention, but that didn't stop them from paying attention to us. We heard several of them comment on us as we passed by.
"Holy gazongas! Bill! Lookit them titties!"
"I think I'm in love!"
"Check out that ass!"
"And those legs! Man, that's some fine stuff."
"Aw chill, dude. They're too old for you. They're 16 or 17, easy."
Once in the relative privacy of the store, Sue touched my arm and whispered, "Were they talking about me?"
"Well, the 'titties' fan must have meant me, but I think the 'ass' and 'legs' comments were all about you. The age crack was for all of us, dammit."
"Should I be flattered or insulted?"
"I'm not happy about the age thing, myself. Usually, I get taken for younger a lot because I'm so short. This time I seem to be too old. How does it make you feel to hear boys with more hormones than blood in their veins say things like that about you?"
"It makes me want to go back out there and strut up and down. Maybe they'll say some more nice things. This is all so new to me."
"New? Why?"
"Well, when I was their age, I was... overweight. No... I was fat! I was ugly, too — acne aggravated by a diet of chocolate. No one would have anything to do with me. The only comments I heard back then were hurtful and mean."
"When did you lose the weight?"
"Not until I got out of high school. I spent the summer in a fat-farm and dropped a lot of it. When I came down here to go to college, I kept on working out. I spent so much time in the gym and the on the track that I just fell into a PhysEd major without even thinking about it. After I graduated, the department head got me the job at the high school and I've been there for the last couple of years."
"What about dating?"
"Before college, I was never asked out. Not even by other ugly boys. In college, I spent all my time working out to keep from getting fat again and I just never met anyone. I think I may be a lesbian."
"Why? Because you like me?"
"Unhunh." She blushed, but under her tan, it wasn't obvious.
"Sue, you're not a lesbian. I know two real lesbians, and you're not like either of them. I like boys quite a bit. Neeka here is very involved with my brother, and... well, remember when I told you about how good a big cock would feel?"
"Oooo, yes!"
"See? You're as normal as we are."
Neeka turned her face away and suddenly became very interested in a rack of dresses behind her. I could hear her laughing like a hyena inside my head at the idea that we were 'normal'.
Now I had my explanation of why Sue Simpson was still a virgin and why she needed to relive her teen years. She was just making up for things she missed. I was relieved that it wasn't anything worse than that. I'd had enough exposure to abnormal psychology for the week, and it was only Monday.
I felt much better once I knew that all she needed was to have some understanding friends and the opportunity to have fun. There are worse things than a self-image that's a dozen years behind your physical age.
Actually, Sue's physical age was pretty irrelevant, and not just to me. She had made her body into such a masterpiece of muscular curves and taut sinews that she could have been any age from 16 to 36, or even older. She was a timeless work of art. Now it was time to take off the drape and let the world see the sculpture.
We pulled several dresses off the rack and sent her into the changing room to try them on. She came out and modeled each one in turn. Neeka and I tried to give her our opinion of how they looked, but it quickly became clear that she was going more by the reactions of her admirers peering in through the storefront windows. After the first couple of dresses she even walked halfway to the door to give them a better view. She looked just like a model going down a runway at a fashion show. She would walk out, pose, walk to the middle of the store, pose, turn, and walk back.
Every time she did it, everyone in the store would stop and watch. After a couple of times, people just stood and waited for the next showing. I thought the store manager would ask her to stop, but as more girls started to trickle into the store and flip open their cells phones to tell their friends about the event, he just ran around moving racks out of the way to provide a better view from the mall.
By the time Sue had tried on the last dress, the store was packed and girls were lined up five deep at the cash register buying dresses that they hoped would look half as good on them as it had on Sue. We had a hard time returning the things she had tried on and rejected to the racks, they were being snatched out of our hands almost as soon as Sue handed them out of the changing room.
When the manager saw Sue approach the end of the line with her selections - a white knit dress with a weave that was just a fishnet in certain areas, and a form-fitting shiny black dress with a halter front and no back down to the curve of her butt — he stepped out from behind the register to meet her.
"Please," he said, ripping the price tags off of both dresses, "take them with my compliments. No charge."
"Well, thank you very much," Sue said. "But really, I can't accept..."
"Don't be silly," he said, "you have brought in more business in an hour than I had all last week. Tell you what. If you come back Saturday afternoon at two and model for an hour, you can have two more dresses at no charge. You have the kind of body that makes anything you wear look like a million dollars."
"All right. Sure! I'd love to. Two o'clock Saturday then."
We pushed through the crowd to get out of the store. When we came out into the mall, we were greeted to a round of applause and whistling by the group of boys. This time the comments were less crude, but just as flattering.
"I swear, I saw her on TV in a commercial for perfume."
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