It wasn’t eleven yet when Joyce rolled in. On a Saturday. Ellen was zoned out on the couch in front of the TV, wrist deep in a bag of caramel cheese popcorn. Joyce’s date was either wildly successful, or she’d gone bust. Ellen licked off her fingers and wiped them on her thigh and hit mute on the remote.

It wasn’t long to know. The door opened behind her, with some commotion involved. “Hey Joyce,” Ellen called over her shoulder. Not moving out of her sprawl, she craned her head back. “Hey Joyce’s pal.”

Like any of Joyce’s dudes he was middle-aged, scalp starting to show, generic white-guy clothes, generic white-guy face. Little younger maybe. Little less hairy than some. As soon as Ellen caught his eye he got The Look, and drifted irresistibly in the direction of the couch. Joyce, packed into a very tight very short dress, clung to his arm and drifted with him.

Today was a Lace day. Ellen was in a pair of frilly peekaboo panties under a pink lace camisole that wasn’t even trying to conceal her tits. And she had new lace-up knee-highs on with white garters holding them up, a present from a fan, which she kept finding excuses to look at in the mirror because they were so unbearably cute. She sighed, stretched her legs out in front of her, pointing her toes, and sprawled a little deeper and a little looser into the couch.

You couldn’t blame the dude staring. “Like any of it?” Ellen asked him.

Joyce gnawed her lip and pulled on his arm. “Never mind her, Daddy.” She fixed Ellen with a glare. “That’s just my whore daughter.”

Ellen smirked at her. “Course I’m only a whore online, huh mom?” She gave the guy a little wink. Lace days always brought out the flirt in her.

“I’m on a date, honey,” Joyce said, heavily sarcastic. “You know, like men and women do?” She canted herself to get into the guy’s line of sight. “Believe this shit? Turns out I went and raised myself a devout little lesbian here. Aint that a hoot,” she sniffed at Ellen. “All that body, and all she ever wants to do is eat pussy.”

Ellen raised her eyebrows. “Oh, we fuck with strapons,” she told the guy languidly. “That’s on the premium site.”

“Thinks she’s too good for dick,” Joyce grumbled.

Joyce’s date licked his lips and got cagey-looking. Ellen knew the signs,— he was screwing up his courage. “Seems to me, uh—” he broke off, looked away, then he nerved himself to meet her eyes and it was game on. “Gotta think there’s men that’d pay good money if she was willing to, you know, bend her rules some.” He seemed to think he was being very sly about it.

“Not enough they wouldn’t!” Ellen broke out in a laugh and propped herself onto her elbows. “You know what second thought, yeah, whyn’t you take me in back, break yourself off some gold-star pussy, leave your poor date out here cooling her heels all by herself. You know, like a gentleman.”

“Alright, hey—” The man disentangled himself from Joyce, raised his palms, took a couple paces back. “Know what, I think I’m stepping into something here, maybe I’ll just …”

“Daddy, nooo,” Joyce mewled, reaching for his hand. She was drunker than Ellen had first thought. “Aw Mister,” Ellen chuckled, “you’re gonna disappoint her, look she’s got her blowjob lips on and everything!”

Joyce seemed genuinely on the verge of tears. Ellen was afraid she’d gone too far. “Alright, here’s what I’ll do,” she said to the guy. She let herself fall back prone. “I’ll give you a dance. No funny business. She sucks you off, you get a nice eyeful of me while you shoot your load, everybody’s happy.”

Joyce looked up at him wide-eyed, nodding her head. “She’s a hell of a sexy dancer, Daddy.”

“Just meet a price,” Ellen told him. The guy blinked at her. “Hold up,” he stammered, “she never said nothing about—“

“Blowjob’s free, stud,” Ellen said. “Joyce don’t charge. Too classy. Me though,— I mean, do I look like college material? I dance these titties around for a living.”

He flicked his eyes back and forth between them a couple times. “I didn’t bring cash,” he said sullenly. Joyce put her arms around his waist and cooed, trying to snuggle up to him.

“We accept all major payment apps,” Ellen said. “Go on, show me your phone. Yeah that works. Pop that one up.” She waggled her fingers to make him hand it to her.

He pulled the phone conspicuously back. “Listen, if you think I’m gonna—”

“Dude, chill, I just wanna give you a quote.” He leaned closer to the couch and held out the screen for her. Awkwardly, still half on her back, Ellen reached up to it and hunted up her account info and pressed a few numbers.

He looked at the quote, put the phone to his chest, looked skeptically back at Ellen. “To watch you strip,” he said. “Practically not wearing nothing as it is.”

“Who said strip?” Ellen said, pushing herself up. Ass half hanging off the couch, she reached in front of her to find her heels. “You know what dance means, right sport? In this context? It means I’m rubbing all over my big tits and grinding my hot pussy in your face and finger-fucking my slit in front of you till I cum, which believe me I am going to cum. Probably right when you do.” Ellen pulled the camisole away from her right breast and toyed with the nipple, which was already hard. “Cuz I may not suck cock? Like ever? But I love watching it sucked. Crazy hot.” She shivered a little, involuntarily. “Specially when she does it. I like giving her encouragement.”

Joyce blushed and cast her eyes to the floor. “Aw look, she’s playing bashful. Bitch like you won’t be on me for half soon as he’s out the door,” Ellen told her. “Go on slut, you know where you belong.” Joyce whimpered and sank to her knees, the bottom of her dress riding completely up and off her thighs.

He watched her go, shaking his head. “This is,— this is some fucked-up shit, man,” he said. Ellen laughed again and slipped into her heels. “What’s the matter? Hot nineteen-year-old piece of ass putting you on a private masturbation show in her own living room, you got a problem with that? Cuz she gets turned on so hard seeing Mommy stuff that big dick of yours down her throat? Not the kind of thing you'd be into.” Ellen pulled up one of Joyce’s old-school slow jams playlists on the TV and got to her feet. Al Green came on. “Just make sure you aim for her face. Or her tits, either way. She knows better than to swallow, don’t you Joyce? I gotta see it.”

Ellen shrugged down the camisole straps and let her tits just sort of loll out of the slackened cups. “Whatever you want to do …” she sang, lifting her arms and swaying at him.

“Ffffuck,” Joyce’s date said. Joyce was nuzzling her cheek over and over his still concealed cock. It sounded like she was humming tunelessly along with the tune, or trying to. He brought the phone up, but on the point of making his payment the dude held up, a shrewd glint in his eye. “I wanna get video,” he told Ellen.

“Of the beej?” She kept swaying, and teased the camisole down just below her nipples. “Help yourself. Not like she’s gonna object.”

“You,” he said to Ellen’s tits. “‘Dancing.’” He made the air quotes.

“Buddy.” Ellen stopped swaying and looked at him askance. “Tell you what” she said, after a signifying pause. “Plenty of videos on my fan site. I’ll gift you a sub. Six months.”

“Wait, you’re really a camgirl?” he said. “I thought you was just giving each other shit. Alright,— twelve months. Premium. I want to see you take that strapon.”

“Mr. Deals here,” Ellen chuckled. “You got yourself a deal, Mr. Deals. So g’head, press play.” He pushed his thumb down with an air of self-congratulation, and a moment later, grinning, flashed her the confirmation screen.

“Alright, Mommy,” Ellen purred. She sashayed over and dipped rhythmically down next to her. “Time to do what you do best,” she said in Joyce’s ear.

Joyce groaned and squared up to his crotch, but he grabbed her by the hair and held her head back. Ellen could see how empty her eyes were; she was already deep in her cocksucking trance. “I still get to do what I want with her though. After this is done I mean. We’re done.”

“Free country dude.” Ellen put her hand to the back of her mom’s head and pushed her face into his crotch. She went for his zipper with her teeth. “That’s right baby, never stop hunting that cock,” Ellen whispered. She looked up at him and shrugged. “Who am I to say what you and my mom get up to on your date?”

The song changed, and she undulated her way back to standing. Ellen propped a heel on Joyce’s shoulder and rubbed her panties over her crotch, so he could see how wet she’d got already. Impatient with Joyce’s teasing little zipper tugs the dude fumbled at his pants to get his dick extracted. “Make it last, sport,” Ellen coaxed him, “I got no place to be.”

Joyce started licking along the shaft, lubing him up, and Ellen dipped again, behind her now. She yanked the top of Joyce’s dress down, hard, till it was scarcely more than a belt around her waist, and pushed her tits into her back, rubbing them up and down her mom’s bare skin. The massage forced Joyce to work to keep her mouth on the dude’s cock. The whole time he was devouring Ellen with his eyes. She didn’t even have to look at him to know.

If only he hadn’t brought up strapons. Ellen missed the feeling of having a girl behind her. A girl, and a thick plastic cock ready to split her in two while she listened to her mom gag. Where even was Tracy anymore, she wondered. Party like this would’ve been perfect for her.