Mother-Daughter Pact

When Paul finally asked high school classmate Sarah for a date, he could not foresee it would lead to a threesome with Sarah and her mother!

Part One

My name is Paul Ryder. When I was 18 years old in 1982, I finally mustered the courage to ask Sarah Shelby, a rather attractive girl in my high school, for a long overdue date. At least it was long overdue in my opinion.

Sarah had been in my homeroom since the first day I walked through the door of Grand Valley Secondary School in my midsize Canadian city in the fall of 1978. Our homerooms were always split by alphabetical order, so, in 1982, I was in the same group as all the high school seniors whose surnames began with P, Q, R or S. That’s how I first saw Sarah four years earlier. Her obvious cuteness as a vivacious blonde attracted me immediately.

I was an excellent student, but I had always been generally shy around females—unless they were family members or neighbors I had known for years. I just figured—quite wrongly—that girls would be more interested in the carefree boys who were B and C students (or worse) rather than the studious, serious types who brought home report cards containing one A after another. I was definitely in the latter category.

Finally, it occurred to me that if I were ever to have a date with Sarah Shelby—who steadily grew more attractive by the year—the time to act was running out on me. In two months, most of us would be finished our high school education and moving on with life. I had no idea if Sarah had a boyfriend or not, but I figured I’d be bold enough to ask her about it. Thus, one April morning I quite bluntly asked her just outside our homeroom’s door, “Sarah, this might seem like an odd question because we don’t really know one another well, but are you currently in a relationship?”

“No,” she said quickly, “why do you ask?”

It occurred to me at that very moment that my longtime dream girl probably wasn’t a Mensa candidate. I laughed softly and said to her, “Can’t you figure that out, Sarah? I want to ask you out on a date! What do you say to that?”

“I’m not dating anyone right now, Paul,” she replied with a smile. “You’ve always seemed like a nice boy to me, so I accept.”

Of course I was pleased. I said, “Wow! If I’d known it was this easy, I would have asked you out on the first day of ninth grade when I saw you walk into this classroom and sit right there.” I put my arm through the doorway and pointed at her homeroom desk. “I’ve always thought you were quite lovely.
”
Sarah smiled warmly at me and replied, “Oh, you’re very good at sweet-talking, Paul; I like that! When do you want to go out and where do you want to go?”

I proffered that we go to a movie. Sarah quickly approved of that idea. I suggested heading to the Cineplex at the city’s huge shopping mall on Saturday night. Once we arrived, we could decide which of the half dozen films being screened that night we would see. Sarah agreed to that, too. I also said we should get there very early so we could enjoy dinner at the mall’s food court before the show began. So far, I was batting 1.000 as Sarah thought that was a wonderful idea, too.

I was able to borrow my parents’ car that Saturday evening with no difficulty whatsoever. They had both been long concerned that I didn’t have much of a social life, so they were more than happy to hear I had arranged to date a classmate. Dad even filled the car’s tank with gasoline and slipped me a $20 bill to offset some of the expenses I would incur on Saturday night. (Unlike some of my friends, I got along splendidly with my parents.)

To impress my date, I deliberately dressed sharply for the occasion. Thus, when I arrived to pick up Sarah at her house, I was a little disappointed that her appearance was a bit more casual than I had expected. She hadn’t put on anything snazzier than she did for a normal school day. Nevertheless, it was a small matter. She looked great regardless of what she was wearing. Sarah was a very attractive female who would make any typical male’s head turn if she walked past him.

I discovered that Sarah Shelby had very plebeian tastes in food and motion pictures. For dining, she chose a food court restaurant that specialized in “gourmet hot dogs” and home-cut French fries. Of course, I went along with it, but had it been my choice, I would have selected the more exotic Chinese buffet. Similarly, for our movie she chose a lowbrow, over-the-top comedy that I knew had garnered mixed to poor reviews. Another option was a foreign film that I was eager to see, but I caught on that Sarah was not the type of moviegoer who accepted reading subtitles as normal. Still, the comedy was enjoyable because Sarah spent most of it with her head resting romantically on my shoulder and her left arm wrapped around my back. The fact that I was watching a stinker of a film was irrelevant. Sarah thought it was hilarious, though.

I told Sarah we’d end the night’s fun by getting dessert somewhere. When we got into the car, Sarah was cognizant that her tastes in food and entertainment and mine probably didn’t jibe. “Paul, I loved both the movie and the meal,” she commented, “but I don’t think you did. Am I right?”

I was going to respond with a polite lie, but what would be the point of that? I said, “I’ll give you an honest answer: That answer would be no.”

“Okay…but why?” asked Sarah. “Was it me? Did you decide you didn’t like me?”

“No, not at all,” I truthfully insisted. “It’s just very obvious that we have different tastes.”

Sarah seemed baffled by what I had said, so I calmly explained it to her. “There’s no chance I would have ever paid to see that movie on my own. I thought its plot was preposterous, there was too much needless vulgarity, and the acting was lousy. It deserves all the negative reviews it’s been getting from film critics—but it appealed to you. Likewise, I would have been a little bit more adventurous in choosing a food court selection. You chose the blandest option available and were quite happy with it, too. Sarah, I’ve wanted to date you for four years based on your undeniable good looks, but I don’t think we were meant to be a couple. I think we’re just too different. Let me treat you to dessert and then proclaim this date a failed experiment.”

I was about to start the car and head to the Cheesecake Emporium when I heard Sarah sobbing. I pulled the key out of the ignition to see tears cascading down her face. Seeing and hearing a girl cry was one of the most disturbing things to me. Having a sobbing female in the passenger seat of the car I was driving was doubly bad.

“Oh, jeez!” I blurted. “I guess I insulted you, Sarah. I apologize for that. Please stop crying. Can you do that for me?”

I passed Sarah the box of tissues that was in the space between the passenger and driver’s seat. Sarah’s sobs continued unabated, but I was surprised to hear the reason why.

After about a dozen seconds elapsed, Sarah told me, “You didn’t insult me, Paul. I’m crying because I disappointed you. You’re a classy guy. The way you dressed for tonight proves it. I really like you—and I so wanted you to like me back. I always have admired you, Paul, but I don’t know about the classy things in life like you do. For example, I don’t even know what the words ‘vulgarity’ and ‘preposterous’ even mean.” Then Sarah started to bawl loudly.

After a few seconds of Sarah’s intense weeping, I put my arms around her and gently kissed her forehead. The loudness of Sarah’s crying dwindled, but it did not entirely cease.

Then from somewhere an idea popped into my head. “Do you want to learn? Sarah, what kind of grades do you get on your report card?” I asked her.

Sarah seemed stunned I would ask her that type of question while she was in the middle of a crying jag. “Mostly I get Cs with a few Bs now and then,” she told me. “Why do you want to know my grades?”

I replied, “I wanted to make sure you aren’t stupid—and you aren’t. That’s why I asked you the other part of my two-part question: Do you want to learn?
”
“Learn about what?” she asked.

“The good things in life: Fine food, quality movies and music, great novels. Things like that,” I said.

“Oh, I think those are probably beyond be?” Sarah stated.

“How do you know that? Let’s try something. Let me introduce you to some of these things. If you don’t like them, we’re back to us being a failed experiment. But just maybe you’ll start to enjoy them and broaden your horizons. Let’s talk about it in detail over dessert—maybe a highbrow dessert, if there’s such a thing.”

At the restaurant we both chose a huge slice of chocolate fudge cake. Sarah amusingly let me order first and then deliberately copied exactly what I ordered. I smiled but I made no comment. At our table I told her the titles of some excellent movies that spanned the history of the cinema that she would likely enjoy. I wrote their titles on a napkin. “Watch a few of these,” I suggested, “and, in a short time you’ll recognize what a quality movie is—and what is rubbish.” Sarah agreed. When I took her home, our date ended with a surprisingly passionate kiss at her doorstep. “Thanks for caring, Paul. I’ll see you Monday at school.”

Part Two

I did not wait until Monday. Sarah had given me her phone number—and I called her promptly on Sunday morning when I checked that day’s TV listings and noticed that It Happened One Night was airing that afternoon on Channel 11. It was one of the films I had put on Sarah’s must-see list.

Sarah seemed genuinely interested in watching the 1934 sophisticated comedy classic. She asked me, “Why don’t you come over to my place and we can watch the movie together—and if I need an explanation about anything, I have you handy. Besides, my mother wants to meet you. I told her about our weird date last night and how you volunteered to—what was it, again?—oh, yeah, broaden my horizons. For some reason that impressed her. What time does the movie start?”

I told Sarah it would be airing from 2 to 4:30 p.m. Sarah relayed what I was saying to her mother who must have been in another room.

“In that case, please stay afterward for dinner. Mom insists on it,” she said. I agreed and told Sarah it would be our second date.

When I got to Sarah’s house around 1:40 p.m., her mother greeted me very warmly, with a bear hug and kisses to both my cheeks. “Paul, I’m Virginia Shelby, Sarah’s mother, in case you hadn’t figured that out. I’ve often told Sarah that she needs to expand her interests in the world. Wouldn’t you know it! Last night you made that point clear to her, too. She ignored me, but she listened to you. I wonder why that is!”

“It was the only thing I could think of to get Sarah to stop bawling,” I suggested as an answer to an obvious rhetorical question.

Sarah turned on the TV to Channel 11. I explained what the movie was basically about—a runaway heiress and a reporter whose career depends upon him getting an exclusive story about it. Sarah’s mom got interested in it from my description and wanted to watch it, too. Sarah was shocked when 2 p.m. arrived she realized It Happened One Night was a black-and-white film.

“Well, I told you it was released in 1934,” I noted.

“So what?” Sarah genuinely asked. I could tell that her mother was on the same page as her daughter.

“The vast majority of Hollywood films were not color until about 1960,” I said. “A color film made in 1934 is exceedingly rare.”

The two Shelby females looked at one another as if I had told them something utterly fantastic. Virginia said, “It looks like we both can learn a lot from this smart fellow, my dear. You better keep him. Treat him nicely.”

Sarah nodded and assumed the same position she had in the theatre the night before: Her head placed lovingly on my shoulder and her left arm wrapped around my back. Because we were seated on a couch, our hips were touching. I liked the warm, loving feeling of Sarah’s sexy body pressed against mine—even if it was just side-by-side.

The movie was a big hit with my pair of hosts. They roared at the hitchhiking scene. Both Sarah and her mom found it amusing that it was a social taboo in 1934 for an unmarried couple to share a cabin—and beyond scandalous if they went as far as to share a bed. They both thought Clark Gable was dreamy. Once I explained the film’s allusion to the Walls of Jericho, they found the final scene very amusing. They heartily applauded when it ended.

“That was a terrific movie, Paul,” Mrs. Shelby gushed. “There wasn’t one cuss word in it! That was refreshing. Thanks so much for introducing it to us. Before today, I would never have considered watching an old black-and-white movie on TV. I’ll have to look for more Clark Gable movies in the TV listings. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“I do!” Sarah exclaimed. She swung her body 90 degrees until she was on my lap. She ran her fingers through my hair and gave me the greatest and longest kiss I’d ever experienced! I was taken aback and thrilled at the same time. Since her mother seemed uninterested in stopping her daughter’s amorous actions, I let Sarah’s passionate buss continue for at least a minute. Sarah was still hanging all over me when she said, “Mom, I want to get to know Paul very intimately after dinner tonight—and I mean very intimately.”

I was waiting for her mother to angrily rebuke Sarah—but it never happened. All she said was one enigmatic sentence: “You know the procedure by now, Sarah.”

My puzzled but pleased face prompted Sarah to say, “Mom and I have a special pact when it comes to my boyfriends. We’ll explain it over dinner. We’re having Mom’s homemade lasagna. I hope it meets with your approval.”

Part Three

The food I was served was indeed delicious. Virginia was an excellent cook. The fresh Italian bread and red wine combined to make the meal absolutely perfect. I was eager to hear about this special mother-daughter pact that Sarah had alluded to before the meal, but neither Shelby female seemed in a hurry to explain any of it to me. I was about to raise the subject myself, when Virginia said, “Let’s all take our wine glasses and what’s left of the bottle back into the living room and I’ll explain our pact, Paul. I think you’ll enjoy hearing the details.”

Virginia refilled our glasses and began speaking. “You should have noticed that Sarah has no father in the household. He suddenly walked out on us about eight years ago when Sarah was around 10 years old. He was a bit of a bum, so we don’t miss him. I was partially to blame, too. I was promiscuous. I’m not proud of it, but it’s the truth.”

I listened without comment as Sarah’s mother continued the story.

“Anyway, when I became a single parent, I became overly protective of Sarah—especially when she started attracting boyfriends. She’s maybe had eight serious ones since the age of 12. Her first one was a boy named Dean. He was a year older than Sarah, and immediately pressured her for sex. When Sarah came to me for motherly advice, I kidded, ‘You can go to bed with Dean only after he goes to bed with me.’ It was meant as a joke, of course, but Sarah said that plan was okay with her! Sarah told him my rule—and the foolish young lad chickened out and stopped seeing my daughter altogether. From that point onward, we agreed that any boyfriend of Sarah’s who wants to take her to bed has to please me first. That way I can weed out the sissies and the weirdos so Sarah doesn’t have to deal with them.”

I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. I declared, “That has to be the craziest thing I’ve ever heard in my life! Mrs. Shelby, I have to ask how many times have you screwed one of Sarah’s boyfriends
.
“I’ve bedded three of them. If memory serves me right, their names were Randolph. Brent and Garth. Right, Sarah?
”
I was still in something akin to a state of shock, but I looked at Sarah who had no expression on her face at all.
“And you had sex with all three shortly thereafter your mother did?” I asked her.

“No, I had sex with them at the same time as my mother did!” Sarah informed me
.
I practically fell off my chair, coming dangerously close to spilling my glass of wine.

Virginia got back into the conversation. “We figured if any of Sarah’s beaus went along with our pact, we two might as well give him a double thrill.” Several seconds of silence followed. “Are you interested in a threesome with the two of us, Paul? I’d love to give you a tremendous fucking. I can tell Sarah would, too. We both think you’re a great fellow.”

Before I had a chance to answer, Sarah snuggled up beside me and began pawing me and kissing my neck. When Victoria sat on the other side of me and squeezed my genitalia, there was no way I could say no to the Shelby girls’ plans.

“Okay, I’m in,” I said eagerly. Both Sarah and Victoria kissed me for reaching that easy decision. Then I asked, “When do you want to do this threesome? Sometime later this week, perhaps?”

“How about immediately after the dinner dishes are put into the dishwasher?” Virginia countered while Sarah nodded.

“As the old adage goes,” I said, “there’s no time like the present.”

Part Four

Such was my readiness to start the carnal fun that I carried three-quarters of the dirty dishes from the kitchen table to the dishwasher by myself. “What’s the rush, Paul?” Victoria joked. Then she added. “Let’s go to my bedroom. I have a huge bed. Its size occasionally comes in handy.”

We all began to disrobe simultaneously. It occurred to me—and scared me—that my sexual experience was quite minimal. In fact, I had to go back five years to when I worked during the summer for the city as a playground supervisor. I had a horny female colleague named Samantha Jolly who had twice let me fondle her private areas. Both times I became overstimulated in a hurry and prematurely ejaculated in my shorts. I pleaded for the powers above to let me fare better today with my two veteran bedmates. I would just pretend that I knew how to perform sexually.

I, of course, was looking forward to seeing and enjoying Sarah in her birthday suit. Virginia was an added bonus. I was surprised when Sarah’s mom literally let down her hair—she had been wearing it in a bun. That slight adjustment made her look like a woman at least a decade younger than her 42 years. She had the same type of firm, round breasts as Sarah did. I became instantly aroused to the fullest extent.

“Someone’s ready for sex,” Sarah tittered in something like a singsong voice.

“Do you mean two of us aren’t?” I asked semi-seriously. My comment made Virginia laugh loudly.

“Enough talking for now,” Virginia said. “Paul, lie on your back in the center of this bed. Sarah, let’s get busy with Paul. We have work to do!”

I got the definite impression that Victoria and Sarah were following a script they had rehearsed. Without saying a single word to each other, Victoria moved toward the end of the bed and quickly engulfed my erection with her mouth. Sarah straddled my face so I could lick her pussy—which I happily did. It was a fabulous start to be sure!

I had already surpassed my two disappointing outings with Samantha Jolly, so I was quite pleased with myself for not coming yet. Almost on cue—maybe there was a signal, and I was too ecstatic to notice it—Victoria removed my shaft from her mouth and jumped on top of me in cowgirl style while Sarah placed one of her lovely tits by my mouth. I gladly sucked on it and played with the other one. As I was in the midst of rapidly licking one of Sarah’s breasts and then the other, I felt a stirring in my loins. Seconds later, I launched a cum shot. At first, I figured I had filled a 42-year-old’s vagina with my semen, but somehow Victoria knew It was about to happen and rose from her sexy position in time for me to make a bit of a mess on the bed and on myself. Sarah saw what had happened. Furthermore, she actually felt what had happened as my launch was a powerful one. A few drops of my sperm had hit her lower back.

“Paul, your next load is going inside me. I insist!” Sarah whispered to me.

In another choreographed maneuver, Victoria and Sarah changed places. Victoria shoved her boobs in my face while Sarah played with my flaccid dick to get me aroused again. It took about five minutes of tugging and licking for that to happen. I loved every second of it.

Victoria surprised me by saying, “Okay, Paul. You’ve proved you are worthy of fucking my precious daughter. She’s all yours. Thanks for the fuck. I’m heading for the shower now.”

I don’t know what exactly I had done well to pass Victoria’s test, but I thanked her all the same. Sarah smiled and mounted me just as her mother had a few minutes earlier. Her pussy was truly fabulous, surprisingly tight, and very welcoming. With a bit of effort, my penis was pushed inside my blonde-haired dream girl as far as it could go.

I wanted to be more assertive with Sarah, so I sat up, put my arms around her and rolled her onto her back—all without pulling my hard rod from its preferred place in Sarah’s muff. Then I began to thrust it in and out. I was doing very well for someone with zero experience in fucking until 15 minutes ago. I started to enjoy the experience immensely. It was if I was partially detached from my own body. I could hear myself babble, “Sarah, I want to fill you with my hot cum and make you pregnant! You were made to be fucked by me over and over. I want to please you with my dick all night. I’m going to give you a huge load any second now!” Then I lived up to my word.

My second orgasm of the afternoon was even more impressive than the first one. However, only I could tell as every drop of baby-making goo went inside Sarah’s wonderful vagina. I intended to keep it there. I didn’t pull out for at least five minutes. I remained atop Sarah and thrusted my dick until it was unquestionably limp.

“Sorry, Paul,” Sarah muttered while I was rhythmically driving my dick inside her. “Fuck me all you like, but I won’t get pregnant by you and neither will mom if any of your jism went inside her. We both took the necessary precautions before you arrived.”

I was astonished that they had planned this threesome in advance. There was actually zero spontaneity to it whatsoever. That floored me!

Part Five

That sexy Sunday afternoon threesome convinced me to some degree that Sarah and I should stay a couple—at least for the purposes of fucking as we made an excellent team. Alas, we went our separate ways when September rolled around. Sarah did not go any further than high school, while I began studying at a university some 800 miles from home. As much as I would have liked to keep sexy Sarah Shelby as a girlfriend, it really wasn’t feasible. We never officially broke up, however.

In the few months we spent together, Sarah did do her best to expand her horizons. She wasn’t much on reading, but I taught her to play chess and bridge. Sarah developed an appreciation for classical music and watched as many old movies on TV as she could see in the days just before VCRs became common household items. Fittingly, My Fair Lady became her favorite musical and film. Of course, it’s the story of an unpolished girl who transforms into a lady with the help of a mentor. I hope she recognized some similarities to herself and Eliza Doolittle
.
I did not see her again until three Christmases later when I was home for Winter Break. I ran into Sarah at the mall’s food court—the same place we had our mostly disastrous first date back in April 1982. She recognized me first and rushed to give me a terrific kiss
.
I bought us gourmet hot dogs and French fries for old times’ sake. By chatting, we learned that neither one of us was presently in a serious relationship.

“Want to go back to my place for a fuck, Paul?” Sarah asked me sweetly.

“Sure!” I said with delight.

“Do you want my mother to join us? I could call her,” Sarah offered. “I’m sure she’d be delighted to bed you again, Paul.”

I thought for a moment and simply stated, “Okay, I have the urge to pound at least one of your pussies until I pass out. It really doesn’t matter to me if it’s you or she who receives my dick."

“I don’t like those odds,” Sarah stated with a smile. “Let’s go to a motel by ourselves for an hour.”

That’s what we did, driving a short distance from the busy mall. When we turned on the TV for no particular reason, we both laughed to see It Happened One Night was playing on channel 11.