Carol Comes to Dinner
By Mommy Janice
Typically, I would put Angie to sleep by reading her a bedtime story. That changed after our first visit to the Mother/Daughter Support Group. On our way home from the meeting, Angie asked, “Mommy, instead of reading a story at bedtime, would you nurse me?”
Her words warmed my heart, and stiffened my nipples. Our mother/daughter love was beginning to bud.
“Yes baby, mommy will nurse you to sleep. Mommy loves you very much.”
“I love you too, Mommy.” Angie said.
With warm smiles, we settled into our feelings of love and tenderness. Neither of us spoke the rest of the way home. When we arrived, Angie went to her room and got ready for bed. I went to my room. My sex was wet from nursing her at the group meeting, and now the thought of nursing her again caused an even greater flow.
“Mommy?” she called. “I’m ready.
“Be right there baby,” I answered, slipping a nightgown over my head. It was full-length, cream-colored, satin, with lots of lace and thin spaghetti straps. Usually I would wore a robe too, but decided to be daring and not wear one this time.
Angie was nestled in her bed, grinning from ear to ear with eager anticipation.
“Sweetie, are you sure you want to nurse? Mommy doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Mommy only wants her baby girl to do what is right for her.”
“I want to, Mommy. Please, please, please!” she begged.
I slipped a spaghetti strap off my shoulder, exposing my nipple. She licked her lips in anticipation, her mouth slightly open, ready for Mommy’s love. I brought my small breast to her.
Angie latched on and began to suck. Cooing and moaning, she closed her eyes and drifted into dreamland. My sex was raging. I had to squeeze my legs together, hoping the pressure would help. Her body relaxed, and soon my sweet darling six-year-old daughter was fast asleep. I waited until her lips broke the suction. Then I hurried to my room where my fingers found my soaking wet sex and masturbated with a passion I had never known before. The orgasm ravaged my body with wave after wave of searing heat. Finally, exhausted, I melted into the bed and fell sound asleep.
The next day, Thursday, Angie went to school and I went to my office. There were papers to grade, lessons to plan, and meetings to attend. My job as a college professor was rewarding, but that day my thoughts were elsewhere. I kept thinking about the night before, about Angie, and my raging orgasm.
That night we went out to dinner, nothing special, just a quick bite. Then I nursed my baby to sleep followed by another raging orgasm.
As Wednesday approached, I began to think about the next group meeting. Sadly, Angie came home with a runny nose. I kept her home that night. It was bittersweet. We could not attend the meeting, but I did ‘nurse’ her back to health.
The following week, we were both excited about attending the mother/daughter gathering. Angie wanted us to dress alike. On the one hand, we went as mother and daughter. On the other hand, we were like two sisters. My breasts were small enough that I could pass as a teen. We both wore black leggings, a white baggy muslin top, with a V-neckline, and three-quarter-length sleeves. She asked if she could wear make-up “like you have on, Mommy.” I could not resist, so I applied eye shadow, mascara, and lip gloss to her.
Carol beamed, from ear to ear, when she saw us. She greeted us with hugs and kisses (me on the lips, Angie on the cheek).
“I was afraid you were not coming back,” she said.
“Angie had a runny nose last week. I didn’t want to expose the group to her cold.”
“That was very thoughtful of you.” Carol said with a reassuring pat on my shoulder.
We settled into our circle of chairs. I found myself next to Candice, the mom who had nursed two weeks before. Carol called us to order and announced how wonderful it was to have “Janice and Angie back.” The moms and daughters welcomed us with smiles and applause. As before, moms talked about their daughters’ accomplishments. Then the discussion moved to more personal topics. Carol asked, “Janice, were you able to find a time each day to nurse Angie?”
“Yes,” I answered, somewhat shocked she would publicly ask such a personal question.
“When?” Carol probed. I felt placed on the spot.
“At bedtime,” I meekly replied.
“And did you masturbate afterwards?”
Oh my god!! I could not believe she would ask that. I was both embarrassed and aroused. Unfazed, Carol continued.
“It’s natural that you would. Candice does, don’t you, Candice?” Candice nodded yes. “Susie does too, don’t you, Susie?” She nodded too. “So, Janice, did you masturbate?”
Did I masturbate? Oh my god DID I masturbate. How could I possibly tell this group how explosive my orgasm was?
“Yes,” I replied, holding back what was inside me, only answering her question
My simple answer had a big effect. Mothers and a few daughters began to unbutton blouses. Soon several were nursing. Angie followed the others and pulled up my blouse. She had that lovey-dovey look on her face. I too fell into her dreamland of loving feelings.
I don’t recall the rest of the meeting. Somehow it ended and I found myself standing in front of Carol. Looking (almost staring) into my eyes she said, “I think it would be best if you invited me to dinner.”
I felt her power. I felt my weakness. She knew me better than I knew myself. She knew what I needed, before I did.
“Oh yes, Mommy, please can Carol come for dinner?” Angie begged, as only a little girl can beg.
I melted. “Of course, Carol can come for dinner.”
Carol asked, “When would be a convenient time for you to have me over?”
I thought for a moment. “Would Saturday be good for you?”
“Saturday it is,” she said.
Collecting my thoughts, I asked, “Do you have any dietary restrictions? What type of wine do you like?
“None… Chardonnay,” she replied.
“Californian?” I was curious to explore her wine-palate.
“Russian River,” she said, and walked away. Wow, she knows her wines. I wonder what else she knows. This was one incredible lady
Angie and I spent the rest of the week planning our dinner. We decided on grilled salmon, mashed potatoes, and fresh asparagus. I bought an expensive bottle of Russian River Chardonnay, which I chilled. We even used our finest stemware (for which I was later very thankful). Angie wore a bright red A-line dress which zipped up the back, making her look even younger. I wore a strapless mid-thigh royal blue dress with a blue belt and gold buckle.
Carol arrived at 7 pm. She was wearing a very sensual black dress with black stockings. It was sleeveless, fitting tight around her hips and thighs. Her neck was adorned with a simple gold chain. We sat in the living room, chatted, and nibbled on hors d’oeuvres. Dinner was delightful, but the excitement came afterwards.
We were back in the living room. I was sitting on the couch. Angie was again on Carol’s lap. She seemed to be at home there.
The conversation took an intellectual turn. Carol asked, “Janice, are you familiar with Yin and Yang, Taoist polarities, or Hegel’s dialectic?”
I had heard the terms before, but never studied them. “Somewhat,” I replied.
“Take this wine glass, for example.” She dipped her finger into the wine and began rubbing her finger around the rim of the glass. “If I rub it just right, the glass will sing. It is responding to my finger and the wine.”
The glass began to sing.
“My wet finger, circling the rim, causes the glass to sing.” Carol said, with an air of authority. “Without my finger, there would be no singing. On the other hand, without the glass, my finger would have nothing to do. It is the wine that brings out the harmony and beauty.”
Carol looked down at Angie. “Angie, do you think we could make your mommy sing? Would you like to try? Would you be the wine?”
Angie was excited at the idea of me ‘singing’.
“Yes, it sounds like fun,” she replied.
“Alright,” Carol said, “let’s take off your dress.”
She unzipped Angie’s dress and pulled it down, displaying her naked body from the waist up. My eyes drank in her exposed, innocent nipples. My sex began to pulsate. I could feel wetness there.
Carol again dipped her finger into the wine. This time she began to circle Angie’s nipple, first the right, then the left. “Angie, you are the wine and your mommy is the glass. Let’s see if we can make her sing.”
My body was raging. I felt heat welling up deep inside me. I began to quiver. I could only think of my pussy, of masturbating. Carol continued to circle my daughter’s breasts. Dipping her finger into the wine, then gently squeezing Angie’s nipples caused me to lose control.
“Angie, I think she is singing. Look at her body. It is shaking, quivering. Janice, we understand if you need to excuse yourself. Your needs are pressing and can’t wait.”
I knew what she meant. I rushed out of the living room and raced to my bed. Flinging myself on the bed, I pushed my fingers deep into my raging pussy. The orgasm erupted with volcanic fury. Hot lava spewed from within. Wave after wave erupted. Years of repressed pressure exploded. I grabbed the sheets, stuffed them in my mouth and screamed with passionate fury. Again and again, I erupted. The glass! Angie’s nipples! Carol’s circling fingers! Images! They filled my mind with love and lust. I loved my daughter, with all my being.
I lost track of time. All I could do was ride the volcanic waves. I never knew a mother could love her daughter as deeply as I loved Angie that evening. Finally my body gave out. I had no more strength. The orgasm tried to continue, but I could not.
After recovering, I changed my soaked dress, and returned to the living room. Angie was still on Carol’s lap. Carol was reading to her.
“Well,” Carol said, “it looks like you made your mommy sing a beautiful song.”
I said, “I did not know that could happen.”
Carol replied, “Only with good wine, sweetie. Angie, can you sleep with your mommy tonight? I think she has had too much wine.” With that, Carol stood up, kissed Angie on the cheek, me on the lips, and left.
I spent the night clinging to Angie. We nursed, cuddled, nursed, and cuddled until she fell asleep. I slept too. It was the most restful sleep I could remember.
Continue on to Chapter 3