In Pursuit of My Daughter, Part One

  • Posted on May 11, 2016 at 2:04 pm

By JetBoy

My name is Gina. I’m thirty-nine years old, and a single mother. When I was twenty I got knocked up on a first date, then ended up marrying the father a year after that. I was unsure about becoming a mother at such a tender age, but fell in love with the idea when I first held my newborn daughter Judy.

I tried to make a go of it as a wife, but it soon felt like going through the motions with a man I didn’t love, especially one who was such an indifferent father, barely present in little Judy’s life. It was almost a relief when he ran off with a Dairy Queen cashier, just a few days before our fifth anniversary. I filed for divorce, and that was that. I’ve never laid eyes on him since.

Once he was out of the picture, my mom helped to support me while I went back to school and earned a business degree. Now I make a comfortable living as a realtor, working with the kind of California suburban homes that everyone in the world seems to be clamoring for. Most of my customers are from Asia, Russia or the Middle East.

After the end of my marriage, I spent years dating different men, never staying with one for very long. I wasn’t looking for love, just someone to make the bed shake when the mood hit me. I’ve always taken great care of my body, so attracting guys was never a problem.

That changed for me six years ago, when I had sex with a woman for the first time.

Here’s how it went down. I was sharing a celebratory drink with a co-worker at the bar near our office, and when he had to run, I struck up a conversation with a young woman named Cindy seated two stools over.

She seemed kind of young to be in a bar, and I suspected that her ID was a fake. Still, she was charming and intelligent, and we hit it off right away. Soon Cindy and I were enjoying an animated chat, along with a few more drinks.

When a group of obnoxious fraternity guys bulldozed their way up to the bar and Cindy suggested that we step outside to get some fresh air, I couldn’t have agreed more.

Once we were out in the coolness of the evening, Cindy produced a joint from her purse and asked if I’d care to indulge. It had been years since I’d been stoned, but I was willing. She led me to the dark side of the bar, sparked up the joint with her lighter, took a big pull and handed it to me.

Two minutes later, we were giddy as pixies, laughing at everything. Then somehow, I ended up in Cindy’s arms, and she was kissing me.

I’d never before experienced a genuine kiss with a female, even as a curious teenager. At that instant, with Cindy’s tongue tenderly exploring my mouth, I felt a deep hunger inside, one that had never been satisfied, leaving me ravenous for more after the first taste.

I found myself returning Cindy’s kisses, my tongue meeting and engaging hers. That warm embrace quickly became a passionate clutch, and my hands began to explore her body. Soon I was cupping the girl’s braless breasts, feeling her nipples stiffen through the purple blouse she wore.

Her lips nuzzled a path to my ear, which she nipped playfully before whispering, “Gina, take me home.”

Moments later, we were in my sedan and on the road. Cindy was stroking my thigh, her fingers straying dangerously close to the front of my wet panties as I phoned home, letting my daughter, who was eleven at the time, know that I’d be running late that night. Thankfully, Judy didn’t ask me why.

I was expecting Cindy to live in some poky flat, but her place turned out to be a luxurious apartment. Not that I was thinking all that much about her living space — what with, you know, anticipating my first lesbian fuck.

She had my back against the door the instant it snicked shut, her body grinding into mine and her tongue in my mouth. I opened for her like a book, surrendering myself to a lover like never before.

Then she was leading me to the bedroom, undressing as she went. I followed, leaving a trail of my clothes lying alongside hers.

The silken sheets of Cindy’s bed were delightfully cool, but we heated them up soon enough. She was a generous lover who knew how to savor pleasure and loved to tease, kissing and touching me until I was absolutely panting for it, my cunt flowing like a faucet.

Just when I was about to scream with the need for release, Cindy rolled me onto my back, roughly shoved my thighs apart and claimed my sex with her mouth. I came within seconds.

That was only the beginning of the most amazing sex I’d ever had. We fucked for hours, exploring every inch of each other. I ate pussy for the first time and loved it — then after Cindy licked my asshole, I rimmed her and loved that too.

Her body enthralled me — I couldn’t get enough of touching and tasting it. How had I never noticed, never realized what a work of art a young woman could be? I was smitten, enraptured, intoxicated, done in by Cindy’s youth, her freshness. God, just the smell of her drove me wild.

Finally we lay side by side, silent and contented, our bodies damp with sweat. She produced a bottle of Grey Goose from a nearby refrigerator, and we silently toasted one another with slugs of the fiery vodka.

Feeling around on the side table for where I’d dropped my watch, I checked the time: just after 11 PM.

“Uh, Cindy? I hate to, y’know, fuck and run… but I’ve really got to get home before my daughter starts worrying about me.”

She raised herself onto an elbow and gave me a sleepy smile, her body beautifully lit by the reading lamp on her desk. Despite the late hour, I felt the urge to have her again.

“That’s cool,” Cindy murmured. “It’s kinda late for me too. I’ve got school in the morning.”

“What class is it?” I asked, innocently.

Cindy gave me a funny look. “What class...?” Suddenly understanding the question, she laughed. “No, no, I gotta be there for homeroom. I go to Albany High, Gina.”

That knocked the stuffing out of me. I sat up, stared at her. “You’re — wait — my God, how old are you!?”

She had the good grace to look sheepish, at least. “Err… I’m seventeen. I look kinda mature for my age, huh? Also, I have a really good fake I.D.”

My head was swimming. Jesus effin’ Christ — did I really just have sex with a high school girl? I didn’t know whether to be impressed or appalled with myself.

Not knowing what to say, I simply got to my feet. Cindy followed suit, and we retraced my steps, gathering up the bits and pieces of my workplace self that littered the floor. Reaching the front door of the apartment, where I’d left my high heels, I began to get dressed.

“You were great,” Cindy said, lazily stroking her belly. “Hard to believe you’ve never done this before.”

“Thanks,” I said, embarrassed but pleased by the compliment. “So, um… can I see you again sometime?”

She made a face. “That wouldn’t be such a great idea. I’m, um, sort of with someone right now. This is her place, actually.”

“Oh,” was all I could say.

“I’m sorry, Gina,” she mumbled, unable to meet my gaze. “I should’ve said something earlier. It’s just that — I really liked you a lot, and I kinda couldn’t help myself. Don’t hate me, okay?”

I toyed with being angry, decided against it. We’d both been consumed by temptation, carried away in the heat of the moment. Besides, Cindy got me hot, but it wasn’t like I was in love with her.

“No hard feelings,” I replied with a smile, reaching for her hand. “You did me a real favor… showed me a new side of myself. This might have been my first time with a woman, but it damn sure won’t be the last.” I glanced around the apartment, taking in just how ritzy the place was. “So — who’s your girlfriend? She’s got some impressive digs.”

Cindy giggled, back to her buoyant self. “She’s a copyright attorney. Old enough to be my mom, but I really do love her.” I’d just finished buttoning up my blouse, and she extended her arms to me. “Thanks for being a good sport about everything, Gina. I had an awesome time!”

I drifted into her arms, we shared one last kiss, then exchanged whispered good-nights before I turned the doorknob and stepped into the night. Cindy gave me a little wave, then quietly closed the door.

I was lost in a haze of sexual heat during the drive home, a state of mind that lingered with me for the rest of the evening. Thank goodness my daughter had already gone to bed; I’m sure that a single glance would have told Judy that something big had happened to me — something I couldn’t even begin to explain. Also, I positively reeked of sweat, pussy and liquor.

Next time, take a shower before you come home, I chided myself.

And there would most definitely be a next time, yes indeed. Whether I’d been converted into a full-fledged lesbian or not, I couldn’t say at the moment… but I was already thinking about how to meet — maybe even pick up! I excitedly told myself — another female bed mate. Right then, the idea of sex with a man seemed about as thrilling as a cold fish stick.

Upon arriving home I checked on Judy, who was quietly snoozing in her bed. Satisfied, I tiptoed down the hall to my bedroom, stripped down and showered off, then crawled naked between the sheets — where, to my surprise, I fell asleep almost immediately.


Ever since that night with Cindy, I have only been intimate with other women.

Young women, as it happens. I quickly discovered that my appetite was much stronger for teen and college girls than ladies my own age.

At first, I was cautious about being open with my newly discovered sexuality, going miles out of my way to check out bars where the odds of running into anyone I knew were slim. Then, as I came to understand the nature of my lust, my craving for the young stuff — well, I grew even more secretive.

Once I dipped a toe into the lesbian scene, I discovered that it wasn’t hard to find girls who liked the idea of sex with an older woman. Actually, I was only thirty-two, but that could seem like a generation apart to a bi-curious teen. I still had what it took to turn heads… it’s just that the heads I wanted to turn the furthest were at least fifteen years younger than mine.

Despite living in Northern California, I kept my sexuality a secret, confining my game to bars that were a good distance away from home and workplace. I knew that my friends and family could handle me being gay, but they’d be a lot less understanding about my dalliances with girls who were barely drinking age — and some who weren’t even that old.

It got worse. I began to find myself lusting after even younger girls — fifteen, fourteen, thirteen. I sought out daring photos of underage cuties in skimpy underthings and barely-there bathing suits, searched for stories about lesbian Lolitas and their mature lovers, even caught myself checking out Judy’s preteen friends when they came by.

I should have anticipated what happened next, but I was so overwhelmed and distracted by this secret life as the female equivalent of a dirty old man that my next moment of self-discovery was a complete shocker — and it damn near flatlined me.

It happened one Saturday afternoon, when I was doing mundane housework, thinking about the night to come. Judy and I usually made Sunday our big mother-daughter bonding time, where she got to decide what we did for the day — so Saturday evening was my time, when Mom got to do grownup stuff with her friends. Mostly go to the movies to see chick flicks, which Judy detested.

She, on the other hand, got to hang out with her beloved babysitter Lucy, a sixteen-year-old neighborhood girl who was cute as a button, but far too innocent for the likes of me.

Of course, I didn’t go anywhere near a movie theater. I’d leave the house in jeans and a t-shirt, drive to the rear of a local warehouse and quickly change into something sleek and sexy I’d stashed earlier in the back seat, then hit the road — bound for one of my favored pickup bars, ready for a night of action.

Right then, though, it was Saturday afternoon, and I was still doing chores. I was on my way to the linen closet, carrying a stack of towels, when I glanced into Judy’s room in passing.

What I saw then would ultimately change my life — our lives, really — forever.

My daughter, a lively twelve at the time, was listening to some song on her Ipod, her eyes closed, moving in time to the music. All she had on was a pair of panties.

The first thought that leapt to my mind was, God, she’s hot. I’d never seen Judy as an object of desire, and that revelation shook me to the core.

Judy was on the cusp of womanhood, beginning to blossom. She’d just started her period a few months earlier, and her breasts had budded into slight but lovely handfuls. Her nipples seemed slightly larger than I recalled — was she aroused?

The panties she wore fit snugly, and I could swear that the cleft of her slit was clearly outlined in them as she moved to a rhythm I couldn’t hear.

In itself, I suppose it wouldn’t be such a staggering sight for the average mom, her preteen girl dancing in her underwear. But I’d just been indulging in one of my dirty fantasies about sex with an underage cutie, and seeing Judy half naked and working that luscious bottom of hers — that’s precisely when I realized that it was luscious, by the way — fed right into my dirty imagination. The view had me quivering inside, as if some giant spoon was stirring my soul about.

I hastened to my room, pausing just long enough to toss my armful of towels into the nearest chair before unfastening my jeans and tugging them down to my knees, much too impatient to take them off completely.

Falling back onto the bed, I thrust a hand into my sodden panties and began to masturbate.

I fingered my cunt hard and fast, all the while allowing my mind to travel to some pretty fucked-up places. I saw myself undressing Judy, kissing her body as I bared it. Then I was making love to her, a girl of twelve. My own daughter!

When I came, it was explosive, and left me glowing like an ember. I touched something huge and profound — spiritual, even. As if I’d been blessed, somehow. All while frigging my pussy to a fantasy I’d never have dared to share with anyone.

Don’t think for an instant that I felt guilty afterward, either. I’ve never lost a moment’s sleep over what I dream about when getting myself off, then or now. That’s what fantasizing is for, after all — wallowing in the wicked ideas that fill our minds, enjoying them without giving into that dangerous impulse.

Obviously, I wasn’t going to make love to my little girl. But something told me that I’d be enjoying her in every way imaginable in the boudoir of my imagination. And that’s what I did, often. For six years.


At eighteen, a college freshman, my daughter has ripened into a gorgeous girl. Her breasts are perfect for her build, and she has a trim stomach and a flawless heart-shaped ass. When you factor in her green eyes, lightly freckled button nose and her hair — dyed jet black with a cranberry-hued shock in the front — she is breathtaking. Even her pierced lip makes me hot.

I’d negotiated those six years quite nicely, successfully hiding my sexual preferences from Judy — both my hunger for younger women, and the lust I felt for her. Then my carefully maintained resolve crumbled like a stale cracker, and all because of a handful of vacation photos she emailed to me.

You see, not long before she started college, I let Judy go on a weekend trip with some of her friends to a nearby lake. One of them had been given the use of her parents’ motorboat, and she invited Judy and a few other girls to get in some waterskiing with her. I suspected that there would be some partying going on as well, but I knew that my daughter was level-headed enough to exercise good judgment.

When she returned, showing a bit of suntan for the first time in her life, Judy raved about what a great time they’d had, then immersed herself in endless preparation for her first term at the university.

I more or less forgot about my daughter’s time at the lake — that is, until months later, when one of her friends sent her a set of photos she’d taken, and Judy forwarded them to me.

Before this weekend getaway, Judy had always favored swimwear that was on the more modest side. Her most-used bathing suit was a bottle-green one piece that matched her eyes. I’d mentioned to her that she might want to think about getting herself something new to wear on the lake. She’d just shrugged. “Oh, I’ll just get Kendra to loan me something of hers — we’re about the same size.”

Months later I sat wide-eyed in front of the computer, staring at images of my daughter in the barely-there bikini that Kendra had provided — not much more than three triangles, just enough to conceal her nipples and sex. My cunt was throbbing.

I clicked through the snapshots, looking for one that showed Judy from behind, hungering for a glimpse of that gorgeous ass of hers. That skimpy bathing suit had to leave her bottom practically bare!

Then there it was — a picture of Judy’s friend Monica on waterskis, being pulled along by the motorboat, shot from behind several of the girls who were watching and cheering her on, one of them my daughter.

It was even lovelier than I’d imagined. I drank in the sight of Judy’s ass, picturing her standing before me right then. I saw myself kneeling behind her, undoing that bikini bottom with a tug of string, letting it flutter to the floor, then burying my face in those angel-soft buttocks.

I practically ripped my pants open, eyes glued to the screen as I began to maul my pussy, shivering with lust, lost in crazy fantasies of incest with my daughter. I fingered myself to orgasm twice on the spot.

Later that night I called up the photos and did the same thing again… then an hour after going to bed, I got up, planted myself in front of the computer and conjured up one more orgasm, then collapsed, exhausted.

It didn’t end there, though — not even close. I spent the following day in a haze of desire so all-enveloping that I ran a red light on the way home from work and nearly got clocked by a taxi.

That, as they say, was the last straw. I knew then that something had to be done about these longings for my daughter, or they would drive me around the twist. I’d behaved myself around her for six fucking years, and how well had that worked out? I wanted Judy more than ever! Something had to give, damn it.

That night, I began to make plans.

A few days later, I invited Judy to spend a weekend with me at Tahoe. She’d just been through a round of grueling exams, and jumped at the chance to get away with me for a few days. I’d rented a luxury cabin, complete with full kitchen and a hot tub.

On Friday afternoon, I made the long drive to pick up Judy. I was feeling increasingly uneasy as my car negotiated the twisting road to her dormitory, wondering if I should drop this crazy scheme to seduce my own child.

Common sense nagged at me. You’re playing with dynamite, Gina. What makes you think that she’s even open to exploring sex with a woman, much less her own mom? Don’t take a chance on screwing up your relationship with Judy. Forget the plan — just settle for a nice weekend of mother/daughter bonding.

I pulled up to the side entrance where Judy was waiting for me, legs crossed, perched on the top of her suitcase. She saw me, then leaped to her feet — and all my good intentions seemed to evaporate.

Our ride to Tahoe would be a long one, so she’d dressed casually. Very casually. She wore a white tank top with a black bra underneath, denim cut-offs that revealed what seemed like miles of bare leg, and cute pink sneakers without socks. Her lipstick was a luscious shade of red, and a pair of sunglasses rested on her nose, Judy’s dancing eyes peering at me over them.

My daughter was a walking wet dream. At that instant, the craving I felt for her was more acute than ever. Then and there, I vowed to myself that if Judy and I didn’t fuck that weekend, it sure as hell wouldn’t be because I’d chickened out.

“Hey, honey!” I called through my open window as I parked.

Judy didn’t say a word, just bounded over to my door, clumsily wrenched it open, bent down and seized me in a tight embrace.

“Mmmmm… it’s so good to see you, Mom,” she murmured. “Oh, wow, are we gonna have fun!”

I returned her hug, doing my best to keep calm. It wasn’t easy — Judy’s body felt wonderful against mine, and the delicate scent of her skin made me light-headed. God, I wanted to take her right then and there.

Instead, I reluctantly broke our embrace, giving her a pat on the back as we parted. “Come on then, girl — let’s get this act on the road!”

With a giggle, Judy danced back to get her things. She’d left her purse on the ground next to the suitcase, and when she bent to pick it up, I got a glimpse of my daughter’s ass that hit me like a wave of summer heat. Those cut-offs were short enough to reveal the bottoms of her panties — a sexy sight, though I found myself thinking that Judy ought to be wearing a thong.

At any rate, her things were soon in the trunk, Judy was seated next to me and our weekend vacation was underway.

My daughter and I chatted animatedly for the first hour or so, getting caught up. I pried into her personal life just enough to keep from rousing her suspicion, learning in the process that she’d recently broken up with her latest boyfriend, weary of his endless obsession with video games.

We eventually fell into a comfortable silence, enjoying the mix CDs that Judy had burned for the trip — first a collection of Brazilian samba and bossa nova, then a selection of vintage reggae. Not for the first time, I thanked Providence that my daughter had such good taste in music.

By the time we reached Tahoe, it was about nine o’clock. After grabbing a quick bite to eat in a charming little downtown cafe, we drove to the lodge manager’s office and picked up the key to our cabin. About a mile or so of winding road, and we’d finally arrived at our home for the weekend. I parked, and we carried our bags inside.

Judy’s face lit up with delight as we entered. “Oh my God, Mom… it’s incredible!”

I laughed. “A lot better than that cramped dorm room, huh?”

She shook her head, still overwhelmed. “I think I’ve died and gone to heaven.” Setting her bags down, she began to explore the cabin. A moment later, I heard her call out, “Hey, Mom? There’s only one bed in here!”

I made my way into the bedroom, which sported a sumptuous king-sized bed — but only the one.

I frowned, doing my best to seem peeved. “Oh, hell’s bells. I told them we needed two bedrooms — or at least double beds.”

Of course, I was lying through my teeth — it was all part of the plan.

“Oh, Mom, don’t worry about it. It’s a big bed… we can share.” Judy giggled. “I’ll poke you if you snore, though!”

“Me, I’m more of a blanket stealer,” I replied, then pretended to ponder Judy’s suggestion, finally nodding. “I guess we can bunk together, sure.” With a thoughtful smile, I added, “It’s been a long time since I’ve slept with another woman…”

Judy looked startled for a moment — then laughed along with me, perhaps a bit nervously. She did seem to be intrigued by my remark, though, which had been my intention.

The long ride and dinner had tired us both out, so we decided to forego lounging in front of the enormous flat-screen television and get ourselves ready for bed. I changed in the bedroom, while Judy changed in the bathroom.

When she came out, my daughter’s eyes went wide at the sight of me. I wore an extra-large Oakland Raiders t-shirt, not quite long enough to conceal my bare bottom. That’s right — feeling especially bold, I’d chosen to go without panties.

Judy had on blue cotton pajamas that primly covered up every contour of her luscious body. I wasn’t disappointed, though — her lack of sexy underthings gave me a very interesting idea that I planned to pursue the next day.

As Judy took in the spectacle of me in my skimpy sleepwear, I shrugged and said, “I usually sleep in the nude, but I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, hon.”

She was blushing, but managed to keep her cool. “Oh… um… you don’t need to worry about that, Mom. Hell, my roommate walks around stark naked half the time.”

As we climbed into bed, I let my t-shirt hike up just enough to give Judy a good look at my pussy. I wasn’t sure if the sight excited her or not, but she certainly seemed interested.

Once we’d drawn the covers over ourselves, Judy switched off the lamp at her side. The room flooded with darkness, I raised myself onto an elbow and, leaning over my daughter, bent down to kiss the corner of her mouth. I could feel her start slightly as I did that. What I really longed to do was take that lip ring of hers between my teeth and gently pull at it. Soon, I promised myself.

“Good night,” I murmured. “I love you, honey.”

“I — I love you too, Mom,” Judy whispered. “G’night.”

As we lay together in the dark, I could sense my daughter was lost in thought — wondering, I hoped, about her mother’s unusual behavior, and perhaps even feeling the stirrings of arousal. I’d planted a seed, one I wanted to take root and flourish.

I finally heard Judy breathing regularly, and closed my eyes to join her in slumber.

Continue on to Part Two


No comments on In Pursuit of My Daughter, Part One

  1. Evan says:

    Mm nice intro can’t wait for more.

  2. Jeneee says:

    Off to a great start 😉

  3. drew says:

    very nice so far. Looking forward to the next chapter.

  4. Little Lover says:

    Very nice! I was really hoping she would get her taste when her baby was younger. Mommy will have a lot of catching up to do with that tongue.

  5. Dan says:

    Very interested in the next chapter, and the next and the and so on and so on…..

  6. JetBoy says:

    Thanks to you… and all who took pleasure from my humble scratchings. May the chapters to come satisfy you every bit as much.

  7. TLez says:

    Jetboy….well done…you’ve planted a seed that we all can’t wait to see germinate…awesome start

    Kitty kisses,


  8. Karen Cypher says:

    Hmm. Is this a new direction for you? Just curious.


  9. Ba55 says:

    Please, please a part 4…and 5 and 6. This is some of your best work.

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