As I got out my towels and washcloth, I wondered if all this domesticity was because of me. Mrs. Reynolds had never struck me as someone you would catch holding a hot clothes-iron. Yet, she certainly seemed to be enjoying it. I thought she might have been a closet homemaker all along, but never had a chance to show off that side of her. 'Mrs. Reynolds' would have been a house-manager, not a housekeeper.
In addition to the shower, big bathtub, double sinks and long countertop, my bathroom had a bidet, which was a brand new experience for me. I knew enough to get on before I turned the water on, but I had never actually used one before. After I tried it, I didn't see how I was ever going to do without one again. Bambi might be a novice as a domestic goddess, but she sure knew how to design a bathroom.
After I soaked off all the dirt and grass-stains, I started on my hair. I wear a short style that's easy to live with. It doesn't need curlers or hot-irons or mousse, which cuts down the hassle a whole lot, but I am fussy about getting my bangs to hang just right. I had just reached for my makeup kit when I laughed to myself and pushed it away again. "Old habits die hard," I said to myself. I leaned forward to get a closer look at my face in the mirror and after a couple of minutes of trance-concentration, I had a light blush on my cheeks, pale pink glossy lips, highlights under my eyes and a credible outliner. I found the only thing I could not simulate was mascara. Apparently hair, being just so much dead tissue, was beyond my mental control. It was a good lesson for me, showing me that there were, after all, limits to my abilities. Still, it was good to know that my makeup would stay exactly as it was until I decided to change it. I could live without extra-long lashes. The stuff was always getting in my eyes anyway.
I was dressed and downstairs just a couple of minutes before six. It was a good thing, too. When I looked out the front window, I saw Neeka walking up the sidewalk. She seemed to be having trouble. She was walking stiff-legged and she stopped a couple of times and held on to a pole or a sign. I was concerned, until I realized what her problem was. She had followed my instructions to the letter and not touched herself for the last 24 hours. The poor dear must have been about ready to pop from the frustration. Walking up the hill was probably so much stimulation between her legs that she was on the verge of orgasm with every step. Just watching her was making me wet.
As I stood there, Bambi came up beside me. One look told her the same thing it told me.
"What on Earth did you do to that poor girl?" she asked with a smile.
"I told her she couldn't cum until I told her to." I grinned. "I'm a stinker. But it was your idea to give her something to think about."
"Oh, my! You're not going to leave her like that, are you?"
"No, I just need to get her in front of Jim and Bud and I will let her go."
"They are already downstairs. But, why?"
"Jim and I have a bet."
"Do I want to know?"
"I bet Jim that I could get my date naked quicker that he could get his."
"Oh, you devil. He'll lose. He has to know you could probably get a total stranger naked in under five minutes. I'm not sure he could find the hooks on a bra in that time."
"Yes, but boys have this ego problem with being beaten by girls. It was a proposition he could not refuse."
"Too true. Would you like me to leave? The pizzas came. I put them in the oven to keep warm. I can go upstairs if you want privacy."
"Oh, Mom, you're the best. But Bambi needs to be here. I think Neeka has a message for you."
"You think?"
"I think a conversation took place when Fiona found out where her daughter was going tonight. I think the Morgan women have a lot in common and may communicate better than many mothers and daughters. We are about to find out how deep that goes. She's here."
I waited a discreet ten-count when the doorbell rang so Neeka would not suspect that we had been watching her 'cumming' up the sidewalk. When I opened it and she saw me she started panting like she had just run a marathon. This girl was in bad shape. I needed to give her release soon or I would not be able to live with myself.
"Hi, Neeka! Come in." I said, cheerfully. She stepped into the foyer and I shut the door. When she saw Bambi she regained some of her composure.
"Hello, Mrs. Reynolds. Do you remember me?" she said.
"Monique," Bambi said, as 'Mrs. Reynolds', "I apologize for not recognizing you at the coffee shop. You have grown so much. You look wonderful." She gave Neeka a hug, which was returned with formality.
"My mother," Neeka began, and I listened attentively for what I expected to be a coded message. "My mother asked me to tell you that she's missed you and would you care to come over for a drink. Oh. And Dad's on a trip."
I smiled behind Neeka's back. That could have been smoother, but there was no mistaking the message, or the urgency.
"Neeka?" I asked, "Does your mother know what I asked you not to do before coming to see me?"
She blushed a deep scarlet. It went beautifully with her long red hair and freckles. She looked at her feet and said in a whisper, "Yes." She glanced at Mrs. Reynolds and blushed even deeper. "We made a pact to do it together. After she knew, it was almost as hard for her as it was for me."