Chapter 3

I lifted my mom’s skirt a little higher in the back. I told her she could lower it when and if someone points it out to her. They could be polite and discreet, laugh at her or tell her to pull it down – but someone would have to say something first.

The next thing we did was walk past some booths near the animal exhibits. There were falcons, and even a tiger in a cage. In some ways, the majestic tiger reminded me of my mother. It was ferocious and could easily overpower their handler. It CHOSE not to do it.

Misty could have told us to fuck off. She could have exerted her authority and gone back to how things were. She might not live down the things she had done around us or for us, but she definitely COULD have chosen to be the parental authority figure again.

The tiger was powerful, with claws that could tear the handler limb from limb. It chose to be gentle, and do as it was told – remain in the cage, on display for the amusement of people willing to pay 10 dollars for a photograph.

I sent Misty up with her top open enough that her cleavage was on display and paid for a picture. The tiger handler had no problem with the risqué’ photo.

My mom didn’t seem frightened or the least bit concerned about taking a picture with a real Tiger. She wrapped her arms around the great beast and smiled. The Tiger was placid, almost happy to be taking a picture in the warm sun.

I noticed what appeared to be a woman in her late fifties dressed like a belly dancer in a pink outfit that showed off her navel and her dress was made of coins. She displayed a lot of skin between the gaps of the coins. You couldn’t see any genitalia or nipples, but she was certainly nude under the heavy dress.

She was with two younger women. One of them was fat and dumpy with blonde hair and about twenty. She had on an outfit similar to the older woman. The other was our age, she was a little chubby with fat boobs. The youngest girl was wearing a pink bikini that showed off her fat butt. She had a belt with coins wrapped in a serpentine pattern that accentuated and widened her hips, while keeping her waist narrow.

The women had a collection of snakes they were showing off. The biggest one was a green Boa Constrictor that the oldest woman wore around her neck. She danced around and undulated with the great snake on her shoulders. It was hardly strenuous, but she did manage to move her belly in time with the middle eastern style music playing softly in the background.

I almost didn’t even notice them. They were just off to the side and not being very flashy or doing anything provocative.

“Do you think they are mother and daughter?” Trent asked as we observed the older woman dancing.

“Not every mom fucks her daughters,” Hope chided Trent for asking the question.

“Whoa, I didn’t say that she did. It was just kind of hot to think that the mom brought her two daughters to the show, and they are all belly dancing together.”

“Even if they do, they aren’t rubbing their tits together and making out,” Hope sneered angrily.

“You never know,” Trent chuckled as we approached the three of them. The two younger women seemed giggly and playful. They weren’t particularly hot looking but in the context of imagining two sisters going at it in a public space dressed like belly dancers it did turn me on. I could imagine the mom making donations as her daughters bumped and grinded on each other to perform for horny old men.

“Are you guys related?” I asked when we got closer to them.

“Yeah, that’s my daughter Angie and granddaughter Susie,” the older woman explained. She introduced herself as Nora and said that she ran a belly dancing school, and it is a ‘family affair’.

“She’s your daughter?” I asked Angie.

“No, Susie is my sister’s daughter. I am her Aunt,” she smiled playfully and started to dance while spreading her arms out like a snake. They seemed to be waiting for people to walk over to their booth. Susie started to dance as well. She was clearly trying to impress us and possibly glean a tip.

“Wow, how many daughters do you have?” I asked Nora.

“Including Angie, I have six. Why? Are you looking to get married?” Nora danced over to me, shimmied, and shook her tits from side to side slowly as if she were trying to hypnotize me.

“I was just curious!” I smiled. I was flattered. Nora was not openly flirting with me, but how she danced excited me. I liked how she showed herself off without being super overt about it. She was dancing for me and my brothers in a busy renne fair, but hardly anyone stopped to watch. It was seen as perfectly normal, and people passed by without giving much of a glance in their direction.

“I could teach your sisters to dance,” the woman danced over some flyers for us to her school. “I also teach pole dancing!”

Nora was an attractive woman but hardly skinny. She had a little bit of weight on her in all the right places. Her daughter was tubby, and the grand daughter had a little baby fat on her as well.

“You dance on poles?”

“Why not? It’s very physically demanding, and an excellent work out,” Nora slithered, and pushed her tummy out as she spoke, and then pulled it back in to punctuate her words. “It works out the body in all the right ways.”

“Do you pole dance with your daughters?” Trent’s eyes grew wide with disbelief as if he hoped the answer was yes.

“Not all on the same pole,” Nora replied with a coy grin.

“Naked?” James asked.

I thought that was too far. I turned a little red when my brother asked such a brazen question.

“Sometimes, but we don’t allow young boys to watch the sessions for free!” she giggled. Susie and Angie tee-heed as well. She offered to let us hold their snake. We patted the snake’s scaly skin. My sister seemed right at home with snakes and enjoyed stroking his head.

My mom seemed frightened of the snake.

“Put it on your shoulders and dance,” I instructed.

“I couldn’t,” my mom blushed and cowered a little. Nora didn’t seem to take my mom’s answer seriously. She put the snake on Misty’s shoulders like a shawl and continued to dance.

“Dance or I’ll spank your butt,” Trent joked.

“Ooh, that’s some motivation!” Nora smiled invitingly. The older lady shimmied her wide hips from side to side as if contemplating what it would be like to have a slap planted on her butt cheeks.

My mother accepted the snake and began to dance around in the style of a belly dancer. She didn’t go all out, but she moved from side to side.

I’d love to tell you that they made out, or we spanked my mom, or made her dance topless, but none of that happened. We parted amiably and moved on to the next stall or exhibit.

However, Misty kept saying how excited she was to hold the snake. “I would never have done that if I wasn’t your pet. I would have just said no and that would have been the end of it. This is kind of exciting because it’s forcing me out of my comfort zone.”

“Oh my god, Misty. You held a snake. It’s not a big deal,” Hope downplayed the accomplishment.

James pointed out that the snake could have bit our mom.

“You have a better chance of being bit by that fat old biddy holding the snake then you do of a Boa Constrictor biting you,” Hope assured us.

“You have to admit though, she and her daughter and granddaughter probably do GET IT ON,” James was kidding.

“Okay, yeah, they probably do dance naked and get freaky,” Hope laughed and conceded that they seemed a little on the kinky side.

We stopped at a Beef Jerky exhibit and tried dried boar, ostrich and other rare meats. That was kind of fun. The next exciting activity that caught our eye was what I call “The Lemonade Girl”

“Lemonade Girl” or LG for short was about my age. She had long brown hair and wore a low cut Elizabethan gown with a white top that revealed her cleavage like many women wore at the renne faire.

LG was working with another woman in her forties dressed the same way.

There was something so breezy and sexy about LG. She seemed super intelligent and bookish, and reminded me of a quiet librarian type. However, she also seemed uncomplicated and the kind of girl who would grab your dick and sit on it if she felt like it for no other reason than she wanted a quick thrill.

LG had big knockers – bigger than my sisters tits. They were huge and she wasn’t wearing a bra. I first noticed LG when she was “Shaking” up some Lemonade. She sliced a lemon, poured some water and ice in a cup with a heaping of sugar and then shook the hell out of it.

It was definitely fun watching LG make lemonade and shake those enormous tits.

The man who paid her to do it was twice her age. LG looked bored, as if she knew he was going to watch her tits. She even made funny faces while she stood in front of him and shook the snot out of that paper cup. Her tits bounced up, down, all around, back and forth, and freely slapped together. LG’s nipples never poked out of the brown medieval-style gown, but it felt like she was trying her hardest to make them pop out.

It was 3 dollars for a lemonade, and I can tell you that the show was worth every penny. I had a boner before she finished the first one. My sister stared at us like we were idiots when we became mesmerized.

The older woman (who also had big fat tits) tried to entice us into ordering a lemonade from her. “No, we’ll wait.”

“Of course ye will,” the older woman grimaced with disappointment and watched as the younger girl bounced and shook the next drink order and then the next. When it was my turn, she asked me if I went to “Lyman High”.

I told her that I did.

“I was in French class with you,” she smiled. I didn’t remember her, but she remembered me.

I felt embarrassed that I was clearly ogling her tits, and I paid to watch her boobies shake. She had to think I was a total pervert.

After my brothers and I each purchased one of her lemonades and walked away, my sister chided us. “That girl was totally into you,” she said to me. “It’s always the shy, quiet ones that are the freaks. She’d totally let you tie her up!”

“Misty isn’t shy or quiet,” I assured Hope.

“Well, sometimes it’s the brash, obnoxious ones that want to get tied up as well,” Hope joked while conceding my point.

“Like you?” I asked rather pointedly.

“Not by my own brothers, that’s for sure!” Hope swung her head, turned up her nose, and abruptly ended our nice conversation. I let my mom have some of the lemonade.

“Wow, actual Lemonade. I’ve been drinking piss for so long, I forgot what lemonade tastes like. It’s too sour,” she made a face. We all laughed at my mom. I was tempted to pour the glass over her head and soak her in it, but we were all having too much fun for those kinds of humiliating shenanigans.

The next cool thing we discovered was a row of activities that included archery and ax throwing. For 5 bucks, you could get some arrows to shoot at a target or throw axes. A shirtless barbarian guy in a fake fur loin cloth took our money and showed us the basics before letting us pick our weapons and have a try.

It was all good fun. When my mom took her turn, he flirted with her. He was in his early twenties. He put his arms around her, and helped her “develop her form” to shoot the bow. It was clearly an opportunity to grope my mom. He ignored the fact her skirt had been hiked up in the back and held her tight.

I was tempted to suggest that she give him a BJ. I was afraid he’d say no. Even though he had been so forward, I couldn’t imagine his reaction if I went up and asked him if he wanted Misty to suck his cock.

“How come you didn’t offer me to that guy, Sir?” she asked after we left. Misty looked a little hot and flustered.

“You could have offered,” I said.

“Oh no, that’s not the deal. I won’t say no, but I am not going to be the one to make the offer,” Misty said.

“If the guys can tell you what to do, then you gotta,” Hope was half-joking.

“Nope, the rules are that I’ll suck but I don’t have to hunt! I want to be hunted, and I loved his calloused hands and rough, scratchy beard!”

Hope seemed disgusted with my mother.

“If you want me to suck off someone, I’ll do it,” Misty assured her. She was smiling. It wasn’t that my mom was kidding. Misty meant what she had said. She was politely explaining that the rule could extend to Hope if she wanted it to.

“Gross, I am not playing your absurd sex game, Misty,” Hope shot back angrily.

“It’s not a sex game, but I respect that,” Misty answered.

“Do you? Is this you respecting it? Prancing around here, showing off your ass?”

“You are just jealous, because Misty has a nicer ass than you,” Trent tried to offer a little levity.

“I hardly think ANYONE has a finer ass than me,” Hope shot back with a little snark and bravado.

“Trent said FINER not BIGGER ass,” James got the final word in on that one with his witty comeback. We all laughed, even Hope. I wanted to point out that Trent had actually said “Nicer” not “Finer” but the moment had passed. It was still a fun and laid back day though and we were experiencing something new and exciting that I had not expected.

We were functioning as a family -but one where the guys were defacto in charge.

The next thing we did was check out a clothes shop – it was more than a booth. It was made up of several tents and tarps to give it a fresh air market kind of vibe. People were hustling around, and despite the expensive prices for cloaks and medieval garb. Business was brisk despite the fact that most people could ONLY wear this stuff to Renne Fairs.

The shop was full of medieval cloaks, fancy Shakespearean shirts, brocade bodices, leather boots. That sort of thing.

The merchant had set up a large tent because the shop was not meant to be a permanent fixture. They probably picked up and travelled from one renne fair to the next to hawk their wears. As such, the ‘changing rooms’ were basically simple tented closets made of white sheets.

The risque’ part was that the booths featured a white sheet at the bottom about waist high and one at the top. The design allowed someone to see the naval of the person that was changing but kept the breasts and genitals out of view.