A Helping Hand

  • Posted on August 7, 2018 at 2:57 pm

Author Unknown

Note from JetBoy: I opened my files tonight, and this story jumped out and demanded to be shared with you good people. I was almost certain that I’d first seen it at the Nifty Archive, but it’s not to be found there. It reads like I did a substantial amount of tweaking to the original — in fact, I took the liberty of polishing it up throughout just before posting it here. Hope you derive a measure of pleasure from its contents.

*****

My name is Kate. I am divorced and have one daughter named Cassy, who is 16. Our life together has been a happy one; though the relationship we share is very unusual. We were just like any other mother and daughter, until things changed between us.

It all began with Cassy’s disastrous ski trip. She and her friends took four cars. While en route to the resort, the first car hit a patch of black ice and lost control, then the others smashed into it. Thankfully, no one was killed, but many of the kids were rather badly battered. Cassy had a broken left arm, a strained back, ligament damage in her right arm and bruises everywhere. One arm was in a cast, the other in a sling and she was pretty much bedridden, because of her back.

I took a leave of absence from work just to care for her. She wouldn’t be going back to school for a month or two, so she also needed tutoring.

The first week was a real strain. Cassy constantly needed help and I didn’t know what I was doing. I had to learn how to assist her with everything from feeding to taking a shower. It was difficult and embarrassing and exhausting. It also saddened me to see my little girl that helpless and depressed. Still, we both coped, and ended up growing even closer as a result. We shared some of the most amazing conversations about life, religion, boys, family, and more. Well into the second week, as her pain subsided and we cut back on the drugs, I could see more and more of Cassy’s spunky character returning.

One afternoon, though, she gave me a scare. I had left her snoozing while I went outside to putter around in the garden. Half an hour later, I heard a sharp cry and I dashed inside to her. I found Cassy still in bed. Her arm had somehow managed to come out of the sling and was bent up against her chest.

She did have tears on her cheeks, but she was much more upset than I would have expected. When I asked what was wrong, she cried and avoided looking at me. When I went to get her arm back in place, I finally realized what had happened. The sheets had been kicked away, uncovering Cassy from the waist down. She was naked, and I could make out every detail of her exposed sex. The signs of sexual excitement were obvious. Her vulva was swollen and flushed, and she was clearly wet as well. She must have become aroused and tried to play with herself. But her arm couldn’t reach her pussy… not yet, anyhow.

I sat down beside Cassy and wondered what I was supposed to do.

I knew she had been masturbating since she was twelve. At least, that’s when I had first heard some telltale sounds coming from her room. Not long after that, I’m sure she explored the drawer where I keep my sex toys and videos. At the time, I had decided there wasn’t anything to do about it. I had started masturbating at the same age and, though I didn’t like her snooping through my stuff, I decided to let it slide. I didn’t think it would do her any harm — an interest in sex is certainly normal for a girl her age, and the more information she had, the better. When she decided to start having sex, I made sure she was well prepared.

That had been a year ago. She’d broken up with her boyfriend at Christmas, so I was sure that masturbation was a big part of her routine. And now here she was, having to go without for weeks. I felt terrible for her. I know it would have driven me nuts.

I reached for her hand, saying, “Honey, maybe if I help a little we can loosen up your arm.” Cassy didn’t say anything, just nodded into the pillow and let me slowly move her arm down.

Her hand made it to just above her navel when I felt her tighten up, inhaling sharply with the pain. I didn’t push it and let her arm slide back up again.

“It’s no use, Mom — I can’t,” Cassy said, still not looking at me, her voice thick with unhappiness. As she started crying again I could see the frustration she felt. Even if she had passed the worst of her recovery, she still couldn’t do a thing for herself, not even steal a little private pleasure. Once again, I felt my heart breaking for my little girl.

I’m not sure exactly how I decided to do what I did. Of course, I would have gone to any length right then to comfort her, to soothe away the pain. And I must have understood that words and hugs and optimism and pampering weren’t what she needed. Not that afternoon.

There was an intuitive connection between us. Perhaps it was all the intimate contact we’d shared over the past week or two — all the baths, the massages and conversations. Maybe some loving bond had been established between us, a new intimacy that went beyond the usual between mother and daughter. Whatever my feeling was, it drew my hand away from her suffering arm and down to her waist, her hips, the tops of her thighs.

I could sense Cassy growing quiet, waiting, her whole body eager to understand what my hand was doing. Her left leg shifted a bit, lifting slightly, increasing the pressure of my palm. I gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze and she settled back down — waiting again, anxious perhaps, but knowing I was just there to help and comfort.

There wasn’t a word exchanged between us. There was just a peaceful, loving certainty when my hand moved again and my fingers found her soft curls. I toyed with them a bit, marveling how similar they felt to my own pubes. I had cleaned her down there with a washcloth so many times by then there should have been no novelty… but the directness, the richness of this was so completely different. It was a sensual experience for me, as well as for her.

Slowly, my fingers moved down, finding her lips, pouting and moist. I traced one side and the then the other. From the tuft of her pubes to the crease of her ass I reminded my girl of the shape and swell of her pussy. I could feel the silky smoothness of her skin, its growing heat and pulse. I caressed her like that for long, indulgent minutes until Cassy shifted a bit and looked at me, whispering “Please…”

A long, exhausted sigh drifted from Cassy when I finally spread her open. Her pussy was pink and fresh and gorgeous… and glistening with weeks of unspent need. I sent two fingers sliding along her slick channel, quickly finding a rhythm that brought quick, happy breaths from her. A few minutes later I could feel her pussy clutching my fingers. I slid up to find the pearl of her clit, my light touch speeding back and forth. She came with a soft whimpering cry that sounded like music to my ears.

I got a damp washcloth from the bathroom and cleaned her up, then covered her again with the sheets. When I got her arm back into her sling, Cassy finally looked me in the eye and said, “Thanks, Mom,” her cheeks still flushed, eyes sparkling. I smiled back as if all she were thanking me for was adjusting the splint, gave her a kiss on her forehead and told her to nap for a while.

The next day passed without any more excitement. Even Cassy’s shower that morning was uneventful, despite our intimacy of the day before. It was business as usual. Or so it seemed. I was having a rather awkward time of it, actually.

I didn’t regret helping out Cassy the way I had, you understand. The improvement in her disposition was dramatic, and just about any price was worth paying for that. She was happy and joking and fun to be around once more. On the other hand, I was having trouble dealing with some unexpected feelings of my own. After masturbating Cassy, my own cunt had been surprisingly hot and moist. As I tried to go about my gardening, my mind kept going back to Cassy’s youthful body and how nice it had felt to touch her.

Finally I had to admit it to myself: our little episode had turned me on. I went into my bathroom and fingered myself to a shuddering climax. Only afterwards did it hit me that I’d been thinking about my naked daughter as my fingers drove in and out of my pussy.

Oh, I had been sexually involved with another girl before, back when I was a freshman in college. I’d met Suzy through a science class. As we studied together through the weeks, we became good friends. During one late night study break we were getting tipsy on wine and talking sex. We got pretty hot and somehow, I don’t know who said it first, we both confessed to some bisexual curiosity. Moments later we were kissing and making love. We were both very confused the next morning, but it had been too good to forget. For the next two years we remained occasional lovers, despite the boyfriends we both went through.

I hadn’t thought of that relationship in years, and suddenly it was all I could think of. Sex with Suzy had been very beautiful and fun and I was realizing that… I missed it. I felt like a small part of me had been without something special for far too long.

Touching Cassy had triggered all of this. And, inevitably, images of Cassy and Suzy were mixing and blurring in my mind. That is what was unsettling me so very much: my own daughter was turning me on. That night, I dreamed of beautiful naked girls and woke up feeling damp and horny.

Cassy’s shower went fine that next morning, though it was a struggle for me not to linger on her breasts. She was a small B compared to my full C, but hers were very high and firm and capped by dainty rose-hued nipples. If I paid too much attention to Cassy’s naked body, she didn’t let on. It wasn’t till she was totally tucked in and comfy that a little blush spread across her face.

“Uh, Mom…” she murmured, smiling shyly, “I was wondering — I mean…” She didn’t get the words out, but did manage to gently kick the sheets down a bit. I glanced down and saw her bare pussy.

A small shock ran through my body. Oh, my God. I put on a brave smile and looked at her. She knew I understood, and relaxed as I slipped my hand between her thighs. I felt like it was happening without my even directing it. She felt so hot and juicy as I slid a finger deep inside her.

This time, fondling Cassy was sweet and loving and seemed inevitable, somehow. After a few minutes of touching, my baby was coming again. Clearly, I was doing something that meant a lot to her.

The smile she gave me afterwards was priceless, and I knew at that moment that we had added a new element to our morning routine. I tried not to think very much about about how the prospect of pleasuring my daughter this way made my own pussy throb with excitement.

The week passed quickly. We continued our special sessions which, I think, contributed greatly to Cassy’s sunny disposition. Her body continued to heal. The bruises were mostly gone, her back felt better and I knew she had regained much of the use of her arm — though we didn’t check to see if this meant she could take care of herself sexually again.

This both worried and excited me. I knew that I was getting to enjoy touching my daughter too much — and something told me that Cassy might not want me to stop pleasuring her, either. More than that, I was afraid, yet hoping against hope that something else might develop between us… and I didn’t know how to deal with those feelings. I didn’t want anything, anything at all, to spoil the wonderful mother/daughter relationship we had.

Then after her shower one morning, I said as I dried her glorious nude body, “Let’s both just stay undressed, honey, until after I take care of you. It’ll be more comfortable that way.”

Her eyes shone as she softly said, “Good idea, Mom.”

We padded naked into Cassy’s room and she lay down, parting her thighs, gazing at me excitedly. Neither of us said it, but we both knew that my nudity made what I was about to do to her different, somehow.

I sat on the bed next to Cassy and began caressing her beautiful pussy, just as I had done for the last several days. God, she felt so hot and inviting. My own cunt was, if anything, even wetter than it had been the last few times I had pleasured Cassy. Being there naked with my lovely daughter, fingers busy between her legs, had me in a state of arousal that was almost unbearable.

Still, my fingers never faltered as they slid back and forth, caressing her wet, slippery labia. The compulsion to taste her, to lick her the way I had done with Suzy was almost too much to bear. It made me tremble with need. I savored the wonderful, heady scent of pussy that was flooding the room. Soon, I was completely absorbed with making my baby feel good.

That was when I glanced up at her face and felt a sudden rush of excitement to see her gazing at me, lips slightly parted, her eyes glowing with love… and passion! I knew, too, that the desire I saw was mirrored in my own expression, clear as day for my daughter to read and understand.

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Then Cassy slowly sat up, placing her hand against my cheek.

“Oh, Mom,” she breathed, “you are so good to me… God, I love you.”

I thought my heart would explode as she gently brought my face to hers and kissed me. Her soft, sweet lips brushed against mine… then her tongue slipped into my mouth and we were suddenly kissing like lovers.

I moaned into my baby’s mouth as her hands claimed my breasts. She moved her palms around slightly, teasing my throbbing nipples. Oh, God, my deepest, darkest fantasy was coming true.

I couldn’t wait another minute — I had to taste Cassy.

Breaking our kiss, I spread my daughter’s legs and slipped down her body to nestle between them, taking a moment to lick and suck at her nipples. She gasped, cradling my head to her breasts. “Oh, Mom,” Cassy moaned.

Her skin tasted and smelled heavenly — but I wanted more. Down I went, trailing my tongue over her tummy. Cassy was moaning and whimpering, knowing full well where my mouth was headed.

Lying between Cassy’s thighs, I paused to savor the sight and the intoxicating smell of my daughter’s dripping pussy before drawing in to nuzzle lovingly at her soft, moist pubes. I felt her trembling hands holding my face as my tongue emerged to give Cassy’s cunt a long, slow, luxurious lick. My precious baby sighed, “Oh, yes…”

Unable to restrain myself, I began to feast on her luscious pussy, placing sticky hands on Cassy’s thighs.

My daughter gasped and cried out, “Oh GOD, Mom. Yes. YESSSS!” I know she said more after that but I didn’t hear it. I was completely absorbed by the smell and taste and heat of her, and dazed at the knowledge that I was committing the ultimate taboo — making love to my own child. And I reveled in it.

My mouth somehow knew how to do everything to please her — suck on her cunt, probe her with my tongue, then nibble at her clit until she exploded in a howling climax. She came again and again with these tremendous cries of ecstasy, her body bucking like a wild stallion. Finally, panting for breath, she begged me to stop.

Cassy lay quietly for a long while as I rested, my head on her warm thigh… then she tugged at my shoulder, inviting me into her loving embrace. She could only hug me with one arm, but it was more than enough. My heart soared as she kissed me hungrily, her tongue licking at my lips, tasting herself.

Then my baby girl transfixed me with a wicked smile. “All right, Mom,” she breathed, “it’s your turn now.” I nearly came right then when she said that.

The memory of my daughter making love to me that afternoon will always be my most precious. Her mouth on mine, kissing me hungrily again and again… her good hand caressing every inch of me, discovering the secrets of my body… my nipples growing taut in her mouth as she teased them with her tongue… her face between my thighs as she kissed my dripping pussy for the first time; then pressed her mouth into me and ate my cunt until I screamed in delight… the delicious thrill I felt when she had me roll over onto my tummy, parted my buttocks and licked my asshole, finally sliding two fingers into my vagina and pumping them in and out until I exploded in a raging, convulsive orgasm that seemed to tear my body asunder. The world vanished in a white-hot flash of pure light, surging through every inch of me.

Cassy took me higher than I ever knew I could go, then gently brought me down to earth once more. I finally lay quietly, dizzy from pleasure, flushed from head to toe, my head resting on my baby’s breast.

We kissed sweetly, exchanging words of love. I suppose I should have been concerned about how our relationship as mother and daughter had changed, but somehow I wasn’t really worried. The beauty of the lovemaking we had shared gave me and Cassy both a real sense of confidence and faith that everything would be fine between us.

I told her about Suzy… and she told me of her own girl/girl experiences. It turned out that she and her friend Janis had learned how to kiss by practicing with each other, and their make-out sessions had progressed into full-blown sex. They had been lovers until Janis had left for college six months earlier. She considered herself bisexual, but admitted that she felt a distinct preference for females, and had hungered for another chance to explore her sexuality with an older woman.

If I had had any lingering fears, that put them to rest. Cassy had already indulged in lesbian love, and I hadn’t somehow corrupted her all on my own. She didn’t even seem least bit fazed by the incestuous nature of what we had done together. She said that our mutual pleasures had reassured her that I would always be her best friend, as well as her mother, and that exploring sex together wouldn’t change that. Her words touched me so that I cried tears of pure joy. We both did.

Five years later, Cassy and I are still occasionally intimate. We love each other deeply, and don’t expect that to ever change.

The End

 

7 Comments on A Helping Hand

  1. kim says:

    It’s so wonderful to see my favorite site is back. Loved this story. I hope to be catching up on some new reading here soon. hugs to, Cheryl, Jetboy, Amanda Lynn, Poppabear, and all the hardworking people who make this wonderful place happen.

  2. Jozef says:

    beautiful story

  3. Tim says:

    Love and intimacy between mother and daughter is always special and this is a perfect scenario. Excellent story telling. Thanks for posting.

  4. Litka says:

    A beautifully written story told in an endearing way. Mother daughter relationships can create such a lifelong bond. Loved it! Thank you for sharing .

  5. Bill says:

    Most favourite of the Jetboy anonymous stories. Thanks for all you do to the fine staff at JS.

  6. Myka & Sophie says:

    Lovely!

  7. admatt says:

    Not Readers Digest material, but wonderful anyway.

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