Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Author Unknown

“Just watch me,” purred Cindy, as she sat on the edge of the bed with her friend Rachel sitting between her legs on the floor, facing her. Cindy’s slender fingers gracefully began to explore her wet pussy as Rachel gave a little moan, eyes fastened to Cindy’s sex as her lover slid a finger deep inside herself.

Rachel shivered with desire as her nostrils filled with the scent of her aroused friend. Cindy slowly withdrew the finger from her pussy and held it up between them. Rachel leaned in to take the glistening digit between her lips, but Cindy stopped her.

“No, no, my pretty one. Just watch,” Rachel’s eyes never left Cindy’s sticky finger as she slipped it into her own mouth and sucked on it. Then she leaned forward and placed her hand behind Rachel’s neck, pulled her close and kissed the kneeling girl deeply, hungrily. Rachel could taste Cindy’s sweet sex as the beautiful blonde kissed her.

Never breaking the kiss, Cindy guided her girlfriend to the carpeted floor of her room, and, shoving a stuffed bear out of the way, mounted her. Rachel moaned with pleasure, wrapping her legs around Cindy, who rubbed herself lasciviously against the dark girl. Rachel was exotic, half Asian and half Italian, and at this moment, ready for love.

Cindy gazed down at the conquered girl, moving against her and saying, “You like it… when I do this to you… don’t you?” accentuating her words with the grinding of her dripping cunt against Rachel’s.

Then she slid down, feeling the brunette’s wetness against her tummy as she began to lick at the young girl’s breast… taking the tip gently between her teeth and pulling on it, then enveloping Rachel’s dark nipple with her mouth.

Rachel whimpered, desperate for release. “Please…” she whispered, cradling Cindy’s face.

“Not yet,” said Cindy, moving up to kiss Rachel hotly. “Lick my pussy first,” She lay back and parted her legs, her smile sweet and devilish at the same time.

Rachel moaned, “Oh Cin,” and moved between her legs as quickly as she could. She started nuzzling Cindy’s wet pussy, playing with her own at the same time. Cindy closed her eyes in rapture as her lover ate her.

An animal cry of mindless ecstasy came from deep inside Rachel as she came, two fingers inside herself as she feasted on Cindy’s juicy cunt. Soon after, Cindy climaxed too, wrapping her legs around Rachel’s face, trapping her there until she was satisfied.

Finally, Cindy sighed deeply and allowed Rachel to join her on the bed. She took the wet-faced girl in her arms and let her doze in her arms. Occasionally, Rachel would gently lick Cindy’s nipples.

“That’s right, little girl,” cooed Cindy, even though she was actually several months younger than the exotic teen in her bed. “Come to Momma.”

This seemed to inflame the dark-haired girl, and she sucked enthusiastically at the lovely breasts of her lover. “Oh, yes…that’s right… such a good little girl with Momma.”

Cindy slipped her hand between Rachel’s legs and began to work her clit expertly, having done so many, many times. She knew by heart just how Rachel liked to be caressed, what would make her come quickly and intensely. As she played, Cindy whispered in Rachel’s delicate ear, “Ever think about it? Making love with your own mother, I mean?” Rachel’s answer was to moan adorably, undulate her hips and suck even more greedily at Cindy’s breast.

“Admit it,” urged Cindy, still stroking circles on Rachel’s’ clit. “Say it, Rach.”

The frantically aroused teenager began bucking her hips and cried out as she came, ‘Yes! Yes! I do think about… ohhhhhhh, ohhhhhhhhhh, Cindy!”

“Thought what?” coaxed Cindy, feeling Rachel’s cunt contract around her fingers. She always loved the feel of that.

“Thought…” panted the breathless girl, “About making love with my mom. I admit it. Ever since you and I… our first time…”

“How often do you think about her?” crooned Cindy, her fingers still inside her lover.

“Sometimes…” Rachel could hardly speak at all, panting for breath, her beautiful young body tingling from head to toe.

“I want you to touch yourself every night, and fantasize about fucking your mom, while you do,” announced Cindy softly. “Every night until I tell you different. Every night, finger your pussy until you come. Understood?”

“Yes, ” sighed the satisfied girl helplessly. She knew she would do anything Cindy asked of her. Anything at all. She loved her so much…

“Who knows?” Cindy breathed into Rachel’s ear. “Maybe I can help your fantasy come true.” Her tongue emerged to lick at the trembling girl’s earlobe. “Would you like that?”

Rachel was overcome with excitement. “Oh, Cindy,” she sighed happily, wrapping her arms around her lover.

A light knock came at the door.

Cindy shifted slightly, allowing Rachel to rest her head on Cindy’s slender arm, but she kept her fingers buried inside the brunette. “Yes?” she called musically. “Come in, Mom.”

The door opened, and a very attractive blonde woman wearing a white ribbed turtleneck sweater, slacks and a jacket walked part way into the room. She cocked her head sweetly and said, “Hi, Rachel,” to the still breathless girl in her daughter’s bed.

“Hi, Mrs. Anderson,” managed Rachel, still snuggled into Cindy.

Cindy lightly stroked her girlfriend’s hair as she gazed at Anne. As she did, she thought of the argument she once had with her mother about bringing girls and women home for sex… the argument that had changed everything between them.

By the time Anne had finally snapped and angrily confronted her daughter about her wanton lesbian lifestyle, Cindy had shared her canopy bed with more than ten girls from school, two of her female teachers, and with at least a dozen women she had met at the mall or the park.

Cindy seldom had any problem getting other girls into her bed. Her looks and confidence drew them to her, irresistibly.

“I won’t have it in my home!” her mother had stormed one day, after catching her in bed with Audrey, a sweet girl from her high school whose mother was a well-known doctor at the local hospital. Audrey had gotten dressed and gone home glowing, leaving Cindy to battle it out with her mom.

Cindy simply let her mother rant on and on, because she had no intention of curbing her pleasures. When Anne had finally finished her speech, standing there with that answer-me-young-lady look on her face, Cindy had simply walked straight over to her, placed her hands on her shoulders, leaned in, and kissed her mother hungrily on the mouth.

For a split second, Anne had done nothing… then, Cindy had actually felt something give way inside her mother, and the older woman responded to her daughter eagerly, parting her lips so that Cindy could enter Mom’s mouth with her tongue.

Cindy had caressed her mother’s hair, her curvy body, and had just kept kissing her, until they both stumbled over to the bed, fallen in and began to make love in earnest.

“This… this is wrong,” panted Anne, just before her daughter’s soft lips closed over hers and she surrendered completely to her hidden desire, kissing Cindy back with everything she had.

As mother and daughter tenderly undressed each other, Anne kept making breathless confessions of hidden desire.

“I’ve been so jealous of your lovers… you’re so hot, so sexy,” she had panted as Cindy ravished her. Cindy kissed her mother’s breasts through the lace of her bra for a while, then commanded her to sit up. Her eyes glazed with desire, Anne simply obeyed her teenage daughter, who reached around and unclasped her mother’s bra. Anne’s nipples were pink and perky, begging to be suckled.

Cindy had wanted her mother for a long while, it seemed, and a victorious smile crossed her beautiful face as she began to nibble and lick at Anne’s soft breasts. Her mother had her first orgasm with Cindy just from her daughter’s lips and tongue on her nipples.

Then Cindy had straddled her mother’s face while the older woman’s eyes were closed from her orgasm, and said, “Look at me, Mom.”

Anne had opened her eyes to see — and smell — her daughter’s wet sex, now centimeters from her face. Cindy began masturbating in front of her mother. “Want to taste me?” she had teased.

“Yes, oh yes, honey, Mommy wants your pussy so badly, sweetheart…”

“Beg me for it.”

So Anne did.

As her own mother lustfully sucked her wet young pussy, Cindy threw her head back, her long blonde hair flowing beautifully, and said through her arousal, “This is how it’s gonna be now, Mom. I’m in charge. You get to be my lover, and I make ALL the rules. Got it, baby?” It sent a thrill down her spine to call her mother “baby” in this bold way. She ground her pussy harder into her mother’s eager face.

A muffled “mmm-hmm” came from between Cindy’s legs, Anne surrendering herself to her daughter just before the girl came in her mouth.

Now Anne was standing meekly in the entrance to her daughter’s room, watching the sexy blonde teen and her latest conquest, naked and in bed together. She said nothing, just waited for Cindy’s instructions.

“Come sit on the bed with us, Mom.” invited Cindy, and her mother, trying not to look as pleased as she felt, obeyed her lovely daughter.

“You may pull down the covers and kiss Rachel’s ass, Mom,” she said lovingly.

Rachel smiled up at Cindy, tucked her head into her lover’s soft shoulder and purred like a happy kitten in a basket.

Anne moaned, partly from the anticipation of licking this exotic teenage girl’s ass, and just as much from the simple thrill of obeying Cindy… her luscious, desirable daughter. She gently parted the girl’s ass cheeks and began licking her. Pleasuring an underage girl, licking her anus at her daughter’s command. Anne was in heaven. Rachel sighed and gasped with pleasure. Cindy held Rachel, reaching down between her shivering thighs to fondle her lover’s pussy while her mother ate the girl’s ass.

Once Rachel had recovered, Cindy asked her to get the blindfold and restraints. Then the girls slowly undressed a trembling, highly excited Anne together and laid her on her back on the bed. Cindy, smiling, secured her mother’s wrists to the bed with silk scarves, and Rachel restrained Mrs. Anderson’s legs the same way. The adult woman now lay naked, aroused and utterly helpless on her daughter’s bed.

“Lift your head, Mommy,” coaxed Cindy, and slipped the blindfold on. “Are you ready? For whatever I wish to do to you?” asked Cindy.

Anne was speechless with excitement. She vigorously nodded her head, twisting helplessly in the restraints.

Cindy nodded at Rachel, and the dark girl retrieved a strap-on cock from Cindy’s dresser. She had known exactly where to find it, having felt in inside her own body before. Cindy grinned wickedly as she strapped it on. Rachel whimpered in anticipation as she watched Cindy take the cock in her hand and stroke it. “Baby oil, please,” she said to Rachel.

Rachel got it and poured some into her hand, and began rubbing it onto Cindy’s cock with both her hands. Then, utterly certain of herself, Cindy moved onto the bed and between her mother’s legs. Rachel sat on Anne’s pillow, cradling the older woman’s head in her lap.

“Ready, Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie. I’m so ready…”

“For anything? Anything I desire? Even though you can’t see or resist me.”

“Yes, yes!” Anne said hotly, fully aroused now, and in total surrender to her daughter.

Cindy gazed down at her pretty, naked, desperately aroused mom and said approvingly, “That’s trust, lover.” She traced her pink fingernails across her mother’s breasts, then her tummy, then her bush. Then the pretty teen mounted her mother and, parting her lips with her fingers, moved the tip of the cock inside her mother. The she slowly entered her all the way.

Anne felt her beautiful young daughter on top of her, on her, in her, with her, owning her. And as Rachel cradled her head, kissing her and Cindy alternately, she gave herself completely to her own child.

“I love you, Mommy,” breathed Cindy, her eyes closed, her face pressed to her mother’s as she fucked her, feeling the older woman climaxing underneath her as her best friend kissed and stroked them both. “This is how it had to be. I love you so much, I just had to make you mine.”

“I… I love being yours, angel,” gasped Anne. “I’ve never b-been so happy.”

And the three lovers lay together for a long, sweet while, whispering endearments, sharing soft kisses… at peace with the world.

The End

Note from JetBoy: This was originally a chapter in the story that appeared here (also composed by our celebrated Author Unknown) that we call “Sharon’s New Lover.” Since it barely has any connection to the plot of that story, I made another one of those editorial decisions — in this case, to make this orphan chapter a new tale in its own right. Like with “Sharon’s New Lover,” I did a lot of tinkering with this one, but the basic plot is intact. Do enjoy.

by Serret

{ This story was originally posted at Literotica in August 2010 }

The heat woke Ada slowly; she slipped from a dream into waking so easily she could distinguish no boundary between. The fan oscillated ineffectually, barely stirring the humid air that lay like a wet blanket over everything. Beyond the fan’s feeble whirring she could hear the surf crashing on the beach. Restlessly, she turned over onto her side.

The last of a tiny tea-candle provided just enough light to see the shape of her sister lying next to her. She had no trouble sleeping. Katrina never did. Moments after her head hit the pillow she was dead to the world. This wasn’t the first time Ada and her sister had shared a double bed on this trip and she had yet to see anything short of a parade disturb Katrina’s rest.

Ada rolled onto her back again with a sigh. Bleary with exhaustion and — let’s be honest — no small amount of tequila, her mind meandered over scenes of the party that evening. It would be the last before the rest of the guests left the villa, leaving her and her sister alone for two weeks.

We always over-estimate how long this place stays entertaining, Ada mused wryly. The party had been good. Plenty of young men from the village nearby, willing to dance all night. Ada didn’t speak Spanish but it hadn’t proved a barrier; they were eager to convey their meaning any number of ways. She’d danced, but nothing more. Affectionate drunk she might be, but she had a boyfriend back in the States who was too good to lose.

God, it had been a long time, though. These summer trips were always rather meditative in their monk-like celibacy. She liked the sensation — it sharpened her eyes, made the quiet ache in her a fever by the time their three weeks were up. The result always stunned her man speechless. And it inspired some unbeatable fantasies.

Running one hand over her bare belly Ada thought of the fellow she’d danced with the most that evening. Tall, long-haired, with eloquent eyes that spoke volumes. He spoke too, not seeming to mind that she understood not a word: all evening while they moved together he whispered in her ear, soft sibilant syllables she could never have hoped to translate. It didn’t matter — the brush of his breath against her neck had the same effect. She pressed her hips against his, let the heavy beat move her in slow spirals that never broke their contact. She felt him hard behind his zipper; he saw her nipples erect through her shirt.

Oh, she wanted him. She knew better, but sometimes that didn’t help. That was why Katrina stayed nearby. They watched each other’s backs on these trips, kept one another from doing anything stupid. When the last song ended Katrina grabbed her arm and steered her toward the door, laughing over her protests.

Thank god for that, Ada thought. But it sure didn’t help her sleep afterward. Frustrated, she glanced over to see that Katrina was still sleeping soundly, then let the hand on her own belly slip down to rub her mound softly through her nightshirt.

Bad idea. Tonight her hunger wouldn’t be silenced so easily; the light touch only made it worse. Careful not to shift her weight and shake the bed, Ada pulled her nightshirt up past her tummy.

She brushed her fingers across her panties, biting her lip to contain her moans. She traced the outline of her slit through the thin fabric, then traced her clit. A harsh breath escaped her. Her wetness was beginning to soak through.

Finally she gave in. Pushing the gusset aside she drew one finger from the base of her vulva to the tip of her clit. Her hips jerked involuntarily — she looked frantically at her sister. No sign of waking. She did it again.

Images of that young man danced in her head. Dancing with her, grinding against her, his cock aching for her. She imagined him thinking of her, stroking his cock, coming with her face behind his eyes… but no name to cry out. Like a dream.

She brought in her left hand to tease her clit, freeing up the other to slide a finger inside her. She was soaking wet, desperate to orgasm. Her teeth hurt her lip, holding it still, keeping it silent as the urge to moan aloud became hard to bear.

Her eyes were closed. She didn’t see her sister’s hand until it covered her mouth. Then her eyes flew open and locked on Katrina’s. Ada’s busy fingers froze and she lay motionless, shocked, staring at her sister.

For a moment neither of them moved. Hot humiliation began to spread through Ada’s body. She couldn’t see much but her sister’s wide, white eyes, the faint glimmers of the candlelight on her arm… she couldn’t see her expression. Ada held still. She didn’t know what to do. Then she felt Katrina’s finger move on her lip.

Her sister traced her lip with the tip of one finger, traced the fixed expression of shock and embarrassment that silenced her. It tickled. Ada wanted to squirm but she was too bewildered. The alcohol still in her system made it hard to focus, hard to understand. Katrina’s finger slipped into her mouth and touched her tongue.

Automatically she pressed back against the invading digit, moving her tongue up to meet it — and then realized what that seemed like and fell still again. What was going on?

Katrina withdrew her finger. Her eyes never left Ada’s as she brought her hand back to her side of the bed. It glistened with saliva. Slowly, deliberately, Katrina took her finger into her own mouth, sucking away the taste of Ada’s.

Ada moaned then, helplessly, almost frightened. “Katrina…” she whispered.

“Shhh,” her sister answered. She edged closer on the bed, traced Ada’s jawline with her wet finger, provoking a shiver.

“Katrina, you’re drunk,” Ada said, trying to sound firm. “We can’t…”

Her sister’s lips on hers cut her off. She made a strangled sound of protest, but her pussy, robbed of the stimulation it so desperately needed, clenched with pleasure. Katrina kissed her deeply as she struggled with conflicting feelings. Her sister’s tongue teased hers, encouraging it, drawing it out.

Ada closed her eyes, but she couldn’t shut out the lust rising in her. I’m dreaming, she thought. If I think hard enough, I can turn her back into that guy. I’ll pretend it’s him and when I open my eyes, it will be. But Katrina’s hair fell around their faces and the smell of her shampoo was unmistakable. Ada’s bond with her sister, so reliable, one of the only solid things in her life, battled inside her with instinctive revulsion. And both were slowly drowning in a rising tide of pleasure as Katrina’s tongue danced against hers.

It’s a dream. I’m asleep, and this isn’t real, she thought over and over. It doesn’t matter what happens… it’s just a dream. And indeed, dreamlike, she felt her body moving without her conscious will, her hand reaching up to curl around the back of Katrina’s neck, to pull her closer. How could this be her? How could her emphatically straight sister be doing this?

Ada’s hips lifted off the bed as her sister’s hand stroked her belly. Finally their kiss was broken, and Katrina looked down at her with unreadable eyes. Ada was transfixed by the wanton shape of her sister’s mouth, the glitter of saliva on her lip, the way the hair fell around her face and made her mysterious, intangible. Ada sighed, mesmerized by those dark eyes. A face one could hardly help falling in love with.

Katrina cupped her sister’s breast in one hand, startling another weak protest from her. It was silenced by no more than a lifted eyebrow and a gentle squeeze. Then Katrina lowered her head and licked the soft mound through Ada’s nightshirt. She nipped lightly, closed her mouth over the nipple, tongued it until the fabric was soaked through. Ada shifted eagerly, entangling her hands in her sister’s hair. She could no longer contain her quiet moans.

Katrina pushed the wet fabric out of the way, trying to pull Ada’s nightshirt off. Ada chose this moment to mount one last resistance, clinging to the shirt and sitting up against the headboard, her arms crossed over her chest. Katrina looked at her reprovingly.

“Katrina, this is wrong. I don’t know what’s gotten into you but I’m… I’m not a lesbian. And you’re my sister! You have to — ”

Katrina listened impatiently. When it seemed unlikely that her sister would stop, she calmly reached down and sunk one finger knuckle-deep into Ada’s streaming pussy.

Ada bucked and cried out, “Ohhh! OH!” Her hands flew apart, grabbing the headboard behind her as her pussy spasmed around her sister’s finger. When Katrina withdrew her hand she fell still with a soft sound of loss. She no longer tried to stop her sister removing her nightshirt. Katrina had made her point.

Shivering faintly, Ada still covered her breasts as the nightshirt fell off the bed. She looked at Katrina submissively, now almost afraid to provoke her. Katrina crouched over her and began teasing her nipple with her tongue. Ada groaned in surrender as her nipple stiffened until it hurt, aching to be touched. Her sister suckled her hungrily, first one nipple, then the other, leaving them gleaming in the low light.

Katrina straightened up on her knees and shifted closer to her sister. Ada pressed against the headboard, unsure what was to come. Katrina gently took hold of her chin and lifted it, teasing her mouth open with her thumb. Very deliberately her sister guided her nipple into Ada’s mouth and held her head there.

Ada could hardly help at least brushing Katrina’s nipple with her tongue. The instant she did, her sister moaned and forced her head closer, thrusting out her chest. Ada licked her slowly, but the tequila and the untended heat between her legs was cluttering her head, filling her with unreliable impulses. She sucked at the nipple, flicking it with her tongue, relishing its small, hard texture and the sounds Katrina made when she caught it between her teeth.

Her sister was straddling her now, guiding her back and forth between her nipples and rocking her hips steadily against Ada’s. Each bump of their hips together sent a ripple of pleasure through Ada’s body. She could feel her sister’s panties rubbing over her skin. They were as drenched as Ada’s own.

Katrina tore Ada’s head from her breasts, jerking her chin up, forcing Ada to meet her eyes. She leaned down and whispered against Ada’s lips, her breath making her sister shiver: “Still want me to stop?”

Ada took hold of Katrina’s hips, pulling them against hers, grinding her pussy against her sister’s through the two layers of soaking wet fabric between them. “No,” she whispered fervently. “Please don’t stop. I want… I want you.”

As that phrase escaped her lips, it seemed to take with it the last of Ada’s reservations. She bucked hard against her sister’s rolling hips, and taking one another in their arms, they humped each other faster and faster. Ada moaned continuously, every breath carrying the sounds of her ecstasy. Katrina breathed against her sister’s neck, felt their panties slip over their dripping pussies, felt the labia beneath shift and squish together. She felt the soft lump of her sister’s clit and aligned her own with it, and when she jerked her hips forward the crash of pleasure nearly overwhelmed her.

Katrina raised her head to lock lips with Ada, their tongues dueling ferociously now, uninhibited, wanton. Ada’s moans died in her mouth and she felt her long-awaited orgasm beginning to rise. No, no, no, chanted one small, nearly strangled part of her. The rest of her screamed Yes, yes, please yes, forever yes… It was too late now. Nothing would stop her from… oh god… from coming against her sister’s pussy.

Thinking the words, the terrible, unthinkable words, sent her over. With each muscular clench of her pussy she whispered it again: My sister… my sister’s pussy… my sister coming… and so am I…!

Katrina rammed her hips into Ada’s and held her still as her pussy convulsed. She threw back her head and cried out, not caring who heard her. They came hard, a rush of juices from each soaking the other, the spasms moving them in three short, sharp jerks.

For a moment Ada lay still, relishing the momentary relief from the need that had been plaguing her for the past week. Then her sister shifted her weight and it returned, blazing, irresistible. God, that had barely dulled it at all! Before the aftershocks stopped she could feel her body begging for more, and could no longer resist.

She ran her hands over Katrina’s back, reaching her panties and drawing them down over her ass. Katrina chuckled softly and rolled off her sister, adjusting her position to allow Ada to remove her clothing. For a moment Ada just stared as Katrina leaned back on her hands. Her sister’s pussy was beautiful, the soft hair dark and sparkling with her wetness. Ada moaned wordlessly and reached out.

Seeing that she would have to help, Katrina scooted closer, wrapping her open legs around Ada’s. She leaned forward and kissed her sister, reassuring her with her tongue. Ada’s fingers found Katrina’s cleft and danced over it, introducing themselves.

She found the round jewel at the top and rubbed its hood softly, and Katrina shuddered with pleasure. She found the delicate lips that concealed her depths and traced them, parting them with two fingers and slipping one finger deeper to tease the tight entrance. Katrina clung to her shoulders and whispered sharply, “Do it. Finger me, little sister.”

Unable to disobey, Ada thrust a finger into her sister’s soaking cunt. She felt the wet, resilient walls contract around her and groaned. She thrust again, and again, desperate to feel those sharp little clamps, to hear the short breaths in her ear. Katrina rolled Ada’s nipples between her fingers and gasped each time her sister’s hand struck her clit. Finally she could take no more. She shoved Ada back onto the bed and crawled up to fling one leg over her. She straddled her sister’s face.

“Now tongue me, little sister. Lick my clit and stick your tongue up inside my pussy. Make me come on your face.”

Ada’s moans vibrated the warm, wet flesh above her. She had no idea what to do but the lust sweeping through her offered no alternative: she sunk her tongue into her sister’s sodden pussy, kissing her lips, fondling her clit frantically. Katrina humped helplessly against the amazing sensation, forcing herself again and again into Ada’s mouth.

With her tongue Ada teased Katrina’s clit out from under its hood, then locked her lips around it, suckling it like a nipple. Katrina cried out. Before she could take a breath, Ada thrust two fingers into her pussy and her sister abruptly jerked away, panting.

“No. No, baby, I don’t want to come yet.” She smiled wickedly. Ada looked bewildered.

“Soon. I promise. I just want you to be there with me.” Her smile was real now, and Ada’s heart melted. This is dangerous, she thought. I can’t fall in love with my sister. But when she looks like that… god, I can’t say no.

Katrina turned to straddle her the other way, and without warning covered Ada’s pussy with her mouth. Ada gasped and reared up to continue her ministrations, communicating her cries of bliss as vibrations on her sister’s clit. Closing their legs around one another they formed a moaning, twitching unit, each one’s lust causing the other to tongue her faster in a rising spiral of pleasure.

Ada licked away the trails of wetness brought out by her thrusting fingers and sucked hard at her sister’s lips, hoping for more. Katrina stretched her tongue to its considerable limit and sunk it between those swollen lips, into the sweet, hot interior. She felt her sister spasming. She felt the orgasm begin.

Katrina’s pussy expelled a rush of juices into Ada’s mouth, and Ada swallowed a scream as she came all over her sister’s face. They shook and convulsed, clinging to one another. “Oh GOD!” Ada cried as the waves of pleasure made her body go slack. “Ada,” murmured her sister, loving whispers nearly muffled by the wet thighs locked around her head. “Ada, Ada, Ada…”

For a moment Ada felt as if she might fall asleep. The fever inside her was still. She had never felt so peaceful. Then Katrina rolled aside and turned around to take her in her arms.

“I love you,” her sister whispered, fixing her with those dark eyes, those irresistible eyes that had always kept her safe and taken care of her. “I know what it must seem like, but… I love you. I have for a long time. Sorry it took me so long to tell you.”

Ada gasped “I love you too!” as she blinked back a film of tears. Then she laughed. “Oh, God, I’m going to have to break up with Matthew now. I can’t imagine what I’ll say!”

Katrina smiled, brushing sweaty hair back from her sister’s brow. “Don’t worry about that now. Think you can sleep?”

Ada nodded. “You wore me out, dearest…” She settled her head against her sister’s shoulder, comfortable despite the heat, and drifted back into her dream.

The End

by Kinky_Becky

Mom knew something was up when she called me that evening. I was even a bigger wreck than the night before, and she had to repeat everything she said three or four times.

“Sweetie, I’ll be home in the morning. I know you don’t want to talk about whatever is bothering you over the phone, but can you hold out until then?”

“I’ll be fine, Mom. Don’t worry, okay? Just tell me one thing, that no matter what, you’ll always love me.”

“Oh baby girl, how can you even ask me that? I love you. I’ll always love you. Nothing, absolutely nothing will ever change that. Understand?”

“Yes, Momma.”

She laughed. “You better! I don’t want to have to put you across my knee.”

The thought of getting spanked by my mother had always struck fear in me. I’m not sure why, because she’d never done it. This time, just imagining it sent a little surge of current straight through me, starting in my ear and rushing to my clit. I almost moaned. Fortunately, I was able to hold back.

“Did you hear me? I said, I don’t want to have to put you across my knee.”

“I heard you, Momma,” I said, my voice quivering. “Sorry, it just shocked me.”

“Oh, now… you know I could never hurt you,” she replied, her voice filled with love and concern.

“I know, Momma. I know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Dinner didn’t go so well that night. My brothers were their typical asinine selves. They complained about having to spend the whole day outside so I could get the house cleaned up special for Mom, insisting that it looked exactly as it did when they left. I yelled at them, called them ungrateful little bastards.

I knew I was an emotional wreck, and I also knew why. I couldn’t wait for Mom to get home, yet at the same time I dreaded it. Having gone for what seemed like a week without sleep, I crashed on the couch, not waking up until my little brother turned on the television to watch cartoons.

“Mom’s home,” he said.

“Where?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“She just pulled up.”

I looked at the clock. It was only 10:00; she had to have left early. I walked outside, still in my bare feet, to help her unload the car. As usual, my lazy brothers didn’t lift a finger, or even come out to welcome Mom home.

“You made it early,” I said, greeting her with a hug. For the first time, I was aware of her breasts against mine as we embraced.

“Yeah, an extra day was more than enough. I don’t get to spend enough time with the boys as it is.”

I knew she was lying. She was worried about me. Dallas was only a three hour drive, so she must have left around seven. It meant she didn’t get to sleep in. It also meant that she didn’t get to enjoy Allison before she left.

After helping Mom in with the bags, we sat in her room talking, putting her clothes away. I listened as she lied to me about the conference, how it was boring and about the made up people she supposedly met. She even told me about a few of the lectures she supposedly attended.

I just smiled, hanging on every word. I guess there was a small part of me that felt lied to, but I completely understood. Allison and Cindy were her secret life that I so desperately wanted to be a part of. I knew she felt compelled to keep that from me, from everyone she knew and loved, and I knew why. It was the same reason I had felt the need to keep my sexuality from her. No, that’s not entirely accurate. Hers was a much bigger secret, and she had far more to lose. Soon, she’d know her secret was out, that it was safe with me, and there was no reason for these silly little fibs.

By the time we finished, the boys were long gone and we had the house to ourselves. Of course she brought up my “girl troubles.” I told her I wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, but she’d be the first to know when I was.

Mom’s so wonderful. That’s all it took for her to drop the subject, and soon she was asking me if I wanted to go shopping. I knew that it was just a distraction, the perfect distraction. She always knew exactly what to say and do, like she had her own private Mom Manual.

So rather than worry about how Mom was going to react when she checked her mail, we spent the next several hours at the mall, trying on clothes, testing perfumes, and eating ice cream.

The next day, she woke us up early, dragging my brothers out of bed kicking and screaming. She didn’t even let us know where we were going until she pulled into the Fun Center. My brothers stopped their whining as soon as they saw the sign. That’s just how she was, and how they were.

She made every effort to spend time with us, to give us every bit of herself that she could. I guess my brothers were just too young to appreciate that. I’m sure they saw her much the same as I saw Dad, like she’d abandoned them. She hadn’t, of course. But she came home when they were in bed. I cooked for them, cleaned for them, made sure they did their homework. It wasn’t her fault; it was Dad’s fault. Still, I was old enough and mature enough to understand that, and they weren’t. So when they grabbed their tokens and ran off for the go-cart track, she understood, and so did I.

I grabbed Mom’s hand and followed them, leading her over to the fence so we could watch. As they raced around the track, trying to run each other off the course, my mother and I just laughed, talking about trivial things. And when the boys had finally grown tired of racing, we took them inside for pizza, and even got in a few games of putt-putt golf and some video games before they wanted to race again. Then it was off to the batting cages. It was a wonderful day, filled with fun for the whole family.

The next morning, Mom was back to work and the boys were back at the pool. I went to the bulletin boards, but being alone, I just couldn’t focus. It was Monday, and I knew the post office would be open. I wasn’t sure if they had delivered my letter to her box yet, or if she’d checked her mail or not, but there was a chance.

That chance kept me on edge the entire day, so rather than waste my time, I spent it cleaning. Sure, I cleaned every day — well, most every day — but I never cleaned like this. The house was sparkling by the time I was done.

I made my mother’s favorite for dinner — jambalaya, to go with boiled crawfish that I picked up at a nearby restaurant. It’s one of our favorites when in season, and back then crawfish were extremely cheap.

After dinner, which everyone loved, we all sat out back on the patio and relaxed. I’d even gotten her a six-pack. After the boys left to take their showers and head off to bed, Mom and I cleaned up, and then sat in the living room sipping our beers. We didn’t talk about work, or school, or boys, we just talked.

I’d spent the whole day worried about her coming home, trying to keep busy to keep myself from obsessing about her. Yet when she came home, I felt at ease. She was just my mother, nothing more, nothing less, the best parent in the world.

“Time for bed,” she sighed as she stood up.

I hugged her tightly, knowing that I’d be just as worried the next morning, worried this might be the last time she’d hug me. She turned out the light as I was walking down the hall toward the bedrooms, then followed behind me. As I turned and opened my bedroom door, she stopped me.

“Hey, I thought you were going to bed,” she asked, puzzled.

“I am, silly… are you so drunk you don’t remember where my room is?”

“No… I just thought you wanted to sleep with me tonight,” she whispered, biting her lower lip.

I looked back at my mother, incredulously. She had read my letter; she knew. But when? I’d been with her every moment since she had gotten home. Even when she went to pee, I followed her into the bathroom, sitting on the sink to continue our chat like always. She had to have read it before she got home.

My God! Mom had known the entire time, yet maintained the façade of ignorance. From the minute she walked through the door she knew of my wicked intentions, yet maintained a strictly parental role.

That was just it. She was my mother; I was her daughter. Nothing was going to change that, absolutely nothing. Becoming my lover would do nothing to negate her roles as mother, as best friend, as confidant — it only enhanced those roles.

For once, I felt at ease. I knew everything was going to be wonderful. And without a shred of apprehension, I followed my mother into her room and locked the door behind me.

“Baby girl, I am so sorry I never told you the truth about everything. I didn’t want you to think less of me. I didn’t think you’d understand.” My mother’s voice quivered as she spoke, a tear forming at the corner of her eye.

“Mom, you don’t owe me any explanation. You did what you thought you had to. I’m just glad that you found Allison and Cindy, and that you didn’t allow your fear to keep you from your own happiness. I don’t want to be a barrier to that anymore. Live your life for you, not for us. If you’re happy, I’ll be happy.”

“I loved your photos. I made myself come twice in the car on the way home.”

My head spun to hear her say that. “Wh-when did you read the letter?” I stammered out.

“I picked it up on my way to work, but I didn’t read it until I got off,” she giggled. “And oh, my, did I ever get off! I thought it was a letter from Allison; you sneaky little devil. But I’d just left her house on Saturday. At the very least I expected something huge, something she was afraid to tell me while I was there. I was worried all day, so much so that I couldn’t even concentrate on my patients.

“Anyway, as soon as I was in the car, I pulled around to an empty part of the parking lot and opened it up. I have to admit that what I read made me cry. I felt so happy, so proud. But those pictures, my dear sweet Rebecca! My God, you had me coming so hard. I don’t know why you didn’t smell it when I stepped into the house.”

“If you think my pictures made you come hard, just wait until the real me gets hold of you,” I whispered to her. My mother’s sweet words had transformed the smoldering love I held deep in my heart into a roaring inferno. I don’t want to call it lust, because that sounds so dirty. I don’t mind dirty at all, but there was nothing dirty about the way I felt. It felt absolutely pure, unbridled, uncontrollable.

Slowly, I inched forward, reaching behind my mother’s back, pulling her to me. Our lips met in a soft, gentle caress. I let my hand slide lower, feeling the rough fabric of her nurse’s uniform, that thick polyester crap. I hated it, but because it was coming between me and my mother’s naked body.

Frustrated, my fingers met at her waistband, untying the knot. In my haste, I only made it worse. Giggling, my mother took over. “Here, let me help you. You’re like your father, trying to unhook a bra.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She was absolutely right, though, and I realized that I needed to slow down. As she worked on the knot, I slid my hands under her scrub top, caressing the soft flesh of her back until I felt the bottom edge of her bra. I worked my way over to the clasp, popping it open with a snap of my fingers.

We kissed again, and it quickly became much more forceful, yet still soft and passionate. I felt her tongue slip inside my mouth. As our tongues danced, my hand caressed her shoulders, feeling them shift as she continued to work on the knot my clumsy fingers had created. I’m not sure why her shoulders turned me on so much. I guess every part of her turned me on right then.

“Shit!” she groaned, backing away to focus more on the knot. “Not tonight. No fucking way are you doing this to me tonight!” she cried out. Walking over to her dresser, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of scissors. She looked almost angry as she cut through the strings, then tossed the scissors aside and then shoved her pants down to her ankles.

Only then did I realize that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

She raised her scrub top over her head and pulled off her bra, leaving her naked, exposed.

I had seen my mother naked countless times. Despite my love for the female body, I’d never seen her this way. I always considered her beautiful, in fact gorgeous, even at 42. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders. It was too dark to see them, but she had the most alluring green eyes, eyes that pierced through you. Her lips were full and accentuated with her lipstick, which was now barely detectable. She stood 5’6”, a good four inches taller than I am. It meant that I always had to look up to her, which I would have done regardless of her physical stature. Her breasts were heavy, two full C-cups that offered the most comforting place to lay your head at night. A lifetime of 12-hour shifts had kept Mom fit and trim, her narrow waist tapering to her hips in soft, succulent curves. My eyes trailed inward from that point until I was staring at her slit, which opened invitingly as she stepped toward me.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, baby girl,” she whispered as she pulled my nightshirt over my head. For years, I slept in one of my dad’s shirts. Initially, I did it because I wanted to feel close to him. For the past couple of years, I just did it because it looked and felt so damned sexy. This one was a football jersey, Troy Aikman’s if I recall correctly. I had gotten it for my dad the previous Christmas, but confiscated it immediately for my own use. Honestly, I thought more about Troy than I ever did about my father, but with my mother bearing down on me, it was time for the top to go.

I loved the way the polyester tickled me as my mother raised the jersey over my head. My nipples were so hard, like pencil erasers — and not little ones, more like the size of the big pencils we used in kindergarten. Each hole of that jersey seemed to grab onto my goose-pimpled flesh, like tiny fingernails flicking across the skin.

I heard her gasp when she realized I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. It always thrilled me, talking to my mom with practically nothing on, like I was getting away with something — but hearing her excitement right then pushed me over the edge, and I came. Not a big one, but I could definitely feel the spasms, as well as my juices flowing.

“Naughty girl,” my mother hissed into my ear.

“Me? What about you? Didn’t you go to work commando?”

“Of course not. It’s just that, after what those pictures did to me, I had to have something to clean up with.”

“So where are they?” I inquired.

“They’re under my car seat. I couldn’t put them back on, and I sure wasn’t going to carry them into the house while they were that wet… practically dripping!”

“Dripping? Oh, come on,” I replied incredulously.

In response, my mother just stared at me, not even blinking, for what seemed like an eternity. “Just wait,” she said breathlessly.

With that, my mother pushed me back onto her bed. It was still made, and the roughness of the bedspread felt like sandpaper compared to my mother’s smooth flesh. She lay on top of me, her warm body pressed into mine, pinning me to the very bed she’d shared with my father, where she cradled me in her arms when I had a bad dream — where I very likely was conceived. That thought sent shivers through me.

Once again, my mother kissed me, but there was nothing motherly about it. This was a kiss of unadulterated passion and lust. As our lips pressed firmly together, our tongues united in a passionate embrace. I had loved my mother my entire life, and now I was showing her just how much, in a way I had never fathomed until a week ago.

A burning fire grew deep in my chest. Initially, it felt wonderful, like my heart burning with love. But that smoldering warmth intensified until I felt my entire body would burst into flame. I had forgotten to breathe. In my lustful state, concentrating so intensely on my mother, on how soft her succulent lips felt on mine, on how her nipples poked so deliciously into my breasts, on how divinely her nails dug into my flesh as she gripped my ass, that I actually forgot to breathe.

I could have kissed my mother like that all night; it was pure bliss. Mom wasn’t as easily satisfied. She began slowly kissing and licking down my body. I knew where she was heading, and I felt like a five-year-old with attention deficit disorder waiting for Christmas. Each kiss was a delicious torture. I wanted to scream, to grip her head in my hands and push her down where I wanted her to be, to beg her to fuck me. But this was my mother, who I loved and adored like no other, so I resisted, love overpowering my lust.

Finally, I felt her warm breath on my navel, her tongue flicking across it. Then lower, at my waist, until at last, I felt her sticky breath on my inflamed clit. She was panting, and my sex throbbed each time the warm air caressed it, only to chill over between, like tiny ocean waves lapping at me. I longed to feel something else though, something more concrete. I bent my knees and spread my hips invitingly, trying desperately to encourage my mother, to guide her where I needed her most.

“Oh, Momma, kiss me.”

I don’t know why I used that word. For some reason, I couldn’t talk dirty to Mom. I loved her. I wanted her. She was my lover, but she was also my mother. For the first time I saw how our roles could impact our relationship. I felt so conflicted. I wanted to talk dirty; it’s such a huge part of my sexuality, but I didn’t want to disrespect her.

I made the decision then and there. She had already proven that she will always be my mother, that our passion for one another would never change that. I was bound and determined to do the same.

“Do you see how fuckin’ wet my pussy is for you, Momma?” I asked her. “It’s fuckin’ dripping for you. Lick me. Taste me. Taste your little girl’s pussy,” I begged, bucking my hips upward toward her mouth.

A sinister grin spread across her face. It held a curious mixture of lust and pride. I’d never seen that look before, not on her, not on anyone — but I liked it, and knew I wanted to see it a lot more often. “Yes, baby girl,” she crooned. “I can see it. I can smell it. And I can’t wait to taste you.”

With that she leaned in, her soft tongue parting my labia, its wet warmth sending vibrations through my entire body.

“Oh, fuck! That’s it. Suck my clit, Mommy. Feel how hot it is for you, how much you turn me on.”

My knees clapped together, trapping my mother’s head between my thighs. Each time I clenched them again, my clit pulsated, like a thousand tiny orgasms flooding through me. I reached down, gripping her hair in my hands, squeezing the soft strands between my fingers. I relaxed my thighs, then tightened them again, those pulsations in my clit growing stronger each time. My impending orgasm mounted, closer and closer, each surge feeling like the next would be the last.

“Suck it!” I hissed. “Suck it like it’s a little cock. Put your lips around it and suck my clit.”

Each filthy word pushed me higher and higher. I kept anticipating the fall, waiting to go over that edge and fall hard into the throes of ecstasy.

“Oh Momma, suck me. Oh fuck, I’m gonna come for you. Your dirty little slut daughter is gonna come in your fuckin’ mouth.”

My mother didn’t miss a beat. Like an expert, she continued to suck me, her tongue in perfect position over my little nub. All the hair pulling, name calling, and hip bucking in the world couldn’t sway Mom from her task. Just like always, she was right there when I needed her, exactly where I needed her.

That’s when I felt it. Somehow gently, yet forcefully, my mother eased two fingers inside my cunt. It wasn’t very far, but she curled them upward, and that set off a trigger in me like no other. There was something there, some magical little button tucked away inside me, and my mother was able to find in seconds what I hadn’t known existed in all my eighteen years.

The orgasm that coursed through me at that moment was indescribable. Until that moment, I thought I knew what sex, what coming was all about. How wrong I was! Oh, I’d had orgasms, but they were mere tremors on the Richter scale of love. This thing was a fucking twelve. I don’t know how we even stayed on the bed. I don’t know why my brothers weren’t barging into the room, wondering what tornado had just touched down in Mom’s bedroom. And as soon as that climax was over, another one was taking its place.

There was no more dirty talk. It was all I could do to breathe. My lungs were starving for air, despite my panting. My mouth and throat were so dry I wouldn’t have been able to talk anyway. Still, Mom didn’t stop. She continued that torrid onslaught — not just on my clit, hell, I could have tolerated that, but on that glorious internal button that she found with such ease. My body twisted and contorted in ways that a carny would have envied, yet her fingers never wavered from that spot. Masterfully, she maintained the perfect pressure, the perfect speed, the perfect everything. It was like she was made for me, like I was made for her.

When my finally body shut down, no longer able to supply the needed energy to continue, my mother withdrew. Slowly, she kissed her way back up my spent body, curling up next to me, cuddling me like so many times before, unlike so many times before. I leaned back against her, my head resting on her natural pillows. Part of me wanted to nestle up to her and fall asleep — a very small part of me.

The much larger part wanted to make her feel the same way. I was so thankful she was my mother. I knew my lack of experience precluded me from performing to her high standard. With anyone else, I would have felt inadequate, but this was my mother, and I knew that she would never judge me.

My mother’s warm hand and gentle caresses produced a comforting, yet rejuvenating effect. As my motor functions restored, I began kissing her — first between her breasts, kissing the beads of sweat that decorated her cleavage like specks of glitter, all the while inhaling the sweet aroma of her perfume.

I kissed my way down, gradually working my way to the foot of the bed. As I lowered my body to the mattress, her legs splayed open, beckoning me.

Her pussy looked exceedingly inviting, like somewhere I had been before, some place I desperately wanted to return to. Her labia were swollen, splayed open in the shape of cutest, sexiest little heart, her little button adorning the top like the tip of Cupid’s arrow. This was all framed by black wispy curls, trimmed neatly like a freshly mowed lawn. I could even see little droplets of moisture in her pubes, like early morning dew. She was absolutely beautiful.

I was mere inches away from her sex. I gently slid my fingers up through the slit, playing in her wetness, the smoothness of her flesh contrasting sharply with her coarse hairs. The pouty lips begged for attention; I pushed them aside, watching her swollen nubbin poke out prominently, proudly.

The heady aroma of my mother’s cunt filled my nostrils. It was the first time I ever smelled another woman; I never got close enough to Jennifer’s sex to smell it. It was a delightful fragrance, one that intoxicated me with lust.

For some reason, I was nervous. I’d licked my own juices from my hand hundreds of times. I knew this was my mother, who would love and adore me no matter how amateurish I was at cunnilingus. Still, for some reason, I was scared. I wanted it, oh God how I wanted to taste my mother, to pleasure her even a fraction as well as she had pleasured me. Still, I knew I was at a crossroads, and I was about to journey down the road, not only of lesbianism, but of incest.

As I lowered my lips over her clit, I felt her labia engulf my cheeks. It felt like her pussy was eating me, even as I was eating it, like it was kissing me back, and I found it incredibly erotic. Her clit was huge. As I sucked it into my mouth, it felt as if I was sucking on the tip of my little finger, and I could swear I felt it growing by the second. Wrapping my lips around it, I flicked my tongue across the tip, just as countless erotic stories had described. It was all I had to go on, that and the example my mother had just provided.

Those fears, those nerves, were quickly squelched. As I teased her, I felt my mother’s hands caressing my scalp, weaving her delicate fingers through my hair. When I hit a particularly sensitive spot, she moaned, her hips bucking wildly.

I quickly learned what she liked best, getting the most profound responses by squeezing her clit gently between my lips, licking around it in tiny circles rather than directly on it, flicking my tongue across her labia, and pressing firmly on her clitoral hood with my upper lip.

Easing lower, I slipped my tongue inside her. That seemed to set her off.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Oh, you sweet angel. Put that beautiful tongue inside me, baby. Fuck your momma with it. Oh fuck, yes. Push your tongue into my pussy. Yes, yes! Oh, baby, I love that. Oh, you sweet baby girl,” she whimpered.

I beamed with pride. Honestly, she said a lot more, but her thighs kept clamping down over my ears so I didn’t catch it all. Still, I could have listened to her all day, and likely could have climaxed again without any further stimulation.

I loved the way she talked to me — not just the words, but how she said them, the tone in her voice, everything. Whenever I masturbated, I always had to hold it in. I wanted to scream out, to say the dirty thoughts that permeated my mind out loud. But with brothers in the next room, I didn’t dare utter a peep, and even when I was home alone, I held it in. For once, I got to experience another lover saying what I was thinking, what she was thinking. I felt so connected to her. I imagined every word she said, visualizing it. I pictured my tongue as a huge cock, delving deep inside her sex, tasting her, feeling her, pleasuring her to orgasm.

I knew I had teased Mom long enough when I felt her pull away, lifting her hips further off the mattress and pushing my head lower. I knew immediately what she wanted; apparently we had the same kinky genes. My heartbeat seemed to flutter in my chest. It just seemed so dirty, yet so fucking hot. The thought turned me on, but I was always sure that I was unique in that category. Now, I knew I wasn’t alone.

With my eyes fixated on my mother’s beautiful face, I gently ran my tongue across her rosebud. She shuddered, short, deep gasps causing her lovely breasts to quiver. All that captured air came pouring out in the sweetest moan, as I stiffened up my tongue and pressed it firmly inside her, feeling the wrinkly flesh open up around me.

I watched with pride as my mother raised her hand to her mouth, biting down on the thick fleshy pad of her palm. I knew it well. I did it the same thing regularly when I was having a particularly wonderful orgasm and didn’t want to announce it to the entire house. It was so erotic watching my mother do it, like watching myself. I marveled at how similar we were.

I continued to lick her, my nose pressed against her wet pussy. She wasn’t quite as vocal, but her whimpers and pants encouraged me. I worked my way back up, the tip of my nose massaging her clit as I pressed my tongue back inside her cunt. I delved as deeply into her as I could, not so much for her pleasure as my own. I wanted to taste her. Little droplets of juice had been dripping down her crack, soaking the sheets, and I didn’t want to waste a drop of my mother’s honey.

As I licked my way back up to her clitoris, I slipped my three fingers inside her. Remembering what she’d done to me, I curled my fingers upward, feeling for anything different, watching my mother closely for any evidence of that internal button. When my fingers brushed along this one spongy spot, nowhere near as deep as I thought, she let out this guttural moan, her stomach stretched taut. Gently, I traced tiny circles around it as I took my mother’s clit into my mouth. As I did, my mother’s legs draped over my shoulders, her heels locking in the small of my back, pulling me into her. Soon, those heels were digging into me, using them for leverage as she rocked her hips, grinding into my mouth. Her hips gradually became more and more animated. Needing more leverage, my mom planted her heels back into the mattress, lifting her ass up high. No longer was I able to gently stroke her. No, her hips were rocking violently, thrusting back against the three fingers I had buried deep inside her. She held my mouth to her pussy, essentially fucking my lips with her oversized clit.

“Oh shit, baby, I’m going to fucking come. Oh my baby girl, oh, make me come, make your mommy come all over your pretty little face. Make mommy your little slut. Make me your dirty whore.”

I was coming on my own accord. Not because I was touching myself, but simply because I was making my mother climax. I couldn’t help but notice that she wanted to be my slut, my whore, while I couldn’t help but feel like hers. It made me feel so close to her, so intimately connected. We wanted the same things, had the same thoughts, even felt the same way.

As she started to come, my mother reached down between us, pushing my tongue out of the way as she rubbed her own clit. I must admit that it hurt my feelings a little, thinking I wasn’t doing it quite right and she had to take over. Still, that thought was fleeting, as a million new thoughts raced through my mind, watching my mother pleasuring herself. Here was a person’s most intimate activity, and she was sharing it with me. How lovely!

As I thought that, little raindrops fell onto my cheeks, my forearms, my breasts. I knew we were inside, but that’s what it felt like. That’s when I realized what my mother was doing; she was squirting on me!

Her hand blurred across her clit as this throaty cry ascending from her lungs. She released both simultaneously, a shriek filling my ears as she brought her hand up to her lips, sucking them clean of her nectar. Even in the moonlight it was clearly visible. Her pussy was dripping. Every inch of her, from her navel to her knees, was completely soaked, as was my face and chest. I understood then why my mother’s panties were still in her car. Part of me wanted to retrieve them and suck every drop from them. If I didn’t have a fresh mess in front of me to clean up, I may very well have done just that.

“Oh, Rebecca, that was amazing,” Mom sighed as I licked her clean. “I love you so much; don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t, Mom,” I paused, then continued, “and I love you too, every bit as much.”

Kissing my way back up her torso, I nestled in her chest, then reached back behind me to pull the sheets and blankets over us. I kissed my mother goodnight — just a normal mother-daughter kiss goodnight — well, except that I could taste myself on her lips.

I slept that night better than I had in years, knowing our relationship was secure, knowing my mother was happy, and that I had found the lover of my dreams.

The End

Author Unknown

At thirteen, Sharon was a very pretty girl. She had long dark blonde hair, a sweet face, and her gentle curves were perfect. Plenty of boys at school were very attracted to her, but Sharon was increasingly aware that she was in love with a female. A woman.

Whenever this woman was near, Sharon got a butterfly feeling in her stomach and wanted nothing in the world more than to be near her. Just to admire this woman’s gorgeous curly dark hair, her full lovely breasts, to hear her soft sexy voice, and to savor her bewitching scent drove Sharon absolutely wild. She longed to be ever closer to her, to kiss her lovely mouth, touch her beautiful body, to profess an undying, passionate love for her.

“Hi, Mommy,” cooed Sharon, walking up behind her mother at the stove, slipping both arms around her middle and burying her delicate face in her mother’s hair. Her shampoo smelled heavenly, and she was wearing jeans and a yellow sweater that felt deliciously soft.

For her part, Sharon’s mother Carolyn had definitely noticed a special sparkle in her daughter’s eyes lately, and a most alluring sensuality in her frequent hugs, touches and kisses. She stood still and let her beautiful thirteen-year-old daughter hold her.

“Oh, Mommy, you’re irresistible,” Sharon sighed.

Carolyn turned around and took her daughter’s face in her hands, looking deeply into Sharon’s blue eyes. “Thank you, honey. I’m so glad you think so.” She caressed the girl’s hair, then leant forward and softly kissed her girl on the lips. She could feel Sharon tremble in her arms.

“So honey… how would you like to watch a video tonight, just us girls?” Carolyn said, smiling lovingly at her daughter.

Sharon quickly agreed, and soon the two snuggled up together on the couch under a comforter. Sharon had secretly turned down the thermostat, in the hopes that her mom would cuddle her even closer than usual.

Her mother’s arms around her and the coziness of the two of them together overwhelmed young Sharon. She could feel her mom’s breasts pressing against her back, and her gentle breath against her neck. Sharon couldn’t help herself — she just had to slip her hand into her pajama bottoms and touch herself while she nestled in Carolyn’s embrace. She figured her mom wouldn’t know what she was up to, because the lights were off and the thick comforter covered them.

But Carolyn could detect her sweet girl moving rhythmically in her arms… and her heart raced as she realized that Sharon was masturbating.

After several minutes, Sharon arched her back and softly gasped, “Oh, Mommy!”

Just as Sharon came to her senses and realized, to her horror, that she had cried out while orgasming in her mother’s embrace, she felt her mother’s arms entwining lovingly around her body. She nearly swooned as Carolyn nuzzled her neck.

“Oh, sweetie. Your face is so beautiful when you come…”

“I — I — really, Mommy?” whispered Sharon, shocked but thrilled by her mother’s reaction.

“Really.” Carolyn purred, her lips warm against Sharon’s ear. “Now it’s time for us to go to bed, my sweet one.”

Sharon was about to meekly protest, then she squealed in delight when Carolyn gathered her up in her arms. Sharon sighed with pleasure, gazing adoringly at her mother as the woman carried her through the house… then her eyes grew wide with surprise as her mother brought her to the master bedroom.

“Mommy?” whispered Sharon, unsure of what was happening.

Carolyn planted a soft kiss on her daughter’s lips as she carried her into the bedroom. Then she placed Sharon gently on the bed and began to undress.

Carolyn was gazing soulfully into her daughter’s eyes as she took off her jeans with a very sexy movement of her womanly hips. Sharon’s heart beat faster, and she felt herself getting wet as she watched her mom step out of the jeans. Carolyn smiled lovingly at her girl, then lifted her soft yellow sweater over her head and off. She wore no bra, and Sharon was trembling with excitement at the sight of her mom’s beautiful breasts. Finally, Carolyn slipped off her panties and stood naked before her daughter.

Sharon was frozen, her mouth hanging open. Carolyn shook her beautiful dark curls, then climbed on the bed, kneeling next to her daughter, placing a warm hand on Sharon’s shoulder. “I love you, honey,” she whispered. She lightly caressed Sharon’s face, gazing deep into the girl’s sparkling eyes… then slowly closed the distance between them to give her daughter a lingering kiss.

Sharon’s lips shyly parted, and suddenly Carolyn’s tongue slipped into her daughter’s mouth… and the girl nearly swooned as the kiss grew hot and passionate. Without thinking, Sharon returned her mother’s kiss, her own tongue flashing to life as she wrapped trembling arms around her naked mother. Both women made sweet sounds of pleasure as their mouths slid moistly together.

Carolyn drew back to search her daughter’s eyes. Sharon was shivering, dizzy from the intensity of their embrace. “Sharon… honey… you’re in love with me, aren’t you, sweetie?” she whispered to her trembling girl.

Her voice thick with pleasure, thirteen-year-old Sharon managed to say, “Yes.”

“Yes, what, sweetheart? I want to hear you say it to me.” She smiled so warmly that her daughter just… melted inside.

“Yes, Mommy,” Sharon confessed. “I am in love with you, I am. Totally and completely!” She hugged her mother tightly, deliciously aware of the woman’s bare skin against her pajamas.

Carolyn stroked her daughter’s silky dark blonde hair, her back, her face. “Sharon,” she spoke tenderly, “would you like to become Mommy’s lover? Right now? Tonight?”

The girl could only let out a cry of joy, burying her face in her mother’s breasts as she hugged the older woman tightly.

Carolyn laughed joyously. She lifted Sharon’s face to hers and kissed her warmly, her tongue darting briefly into her daughter’s mouth, then guided her girl’s face back to her breasts, whispering, “Kiss them, angel.”

Sharon parted her lips and took a nipple into her warm mouth. Carolyn moaned with pleasure. Her voice broke as she gasped, “Oh, yes. Kiss my breasts, sweetheart. Oh, that’s good. Mmm, sweetheart, I love you so much!”

Glowing under her mother’s encouragement, Sharon drew Carolyn’s nipple into her mouth, sucking and nibbling at it. She made love to first one breast, then the other, while her mother purred with delight. Suddenly Carolyn gasped, tensed, and held her child tightly as she exploded in a feverish climax.

Sharon gently lowered her mother to the bed and watched the older woman as she caught her breath, her chest rising and falling quickly, eyes closed, an expression of utter bliss on her face. Thirteen-year-old Sharon hadn’t even taken off her pajamas yet, and she’d already brought her mother to an earth-shaking orgasm.

She quickly undressed and lay naked next to her mother, kissing her face and neck, caressing her soft underarms and stroking her tummy and breasts. Then she straddled Carolyn and looked down at her, the girl’s pretty young face alight with desire.

Sharon fondled her own budding breasts, then slowly trailed her fingers down her chest, over her tummy and between her legs, brushing her pussy with the tips of her fingers. She was dripping wet. As she touched herself, she leaned close to her mother and whispered, “Every night I’ve had to play with myself thinking about you, just to get to sleep. Every night, Mommy.”

Carolyn, aflame with rekindled desire at her daughter’s lewd display, reached up and embraced the sweet naked girl. In a voice a woman reserves for her lover, Carolyn murmured, “This is the real thing, Sharon. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I adore you.”

Grinning happily, Sharon bent down to flick her tongue into Carolyn’s mouth for a quick kiss, then slowly moved down between her mother’s parted thighs. Her eyes grew wide with excitement at the sight of her mom’s cunt, now glistening with wetness. “Oh, God, Mommy…” she whispered, extending her fingers to touch it, “your pussy is so beautiful…”

Carolyn reached for her daughter. “I want you to climb on top of me, my darling girl, and rub your pussy against mine. Fuck me.”

Sharon’s face lit up in a huge smile as she climbed atop her mom’s body, lowered her dripping pussy to her mother’s and began gently moving on top of her. Carolyn wrapped her legs around her daughter and pushed her cunt against Sharon’s, gazing deep into her eyes.

“You’re the most wonderful lover I’ve ever had,” Carolyn whispered in her daughter’s ear. “This weekend is going to be like our honeymoon.”

With that, Sharon began grinding harder against her mom, rubbing her cunt against Carolyn’s, gazing deep into her mother’s eyes, whispering sweet words of love until she threw her head back, mouth wide as she came in the older woman’s loving arms.

The sight and sensation of her adorable daughter climaxing atop her were enough to send Carolyn gasping into an orgasm of her own that she thought would never end. Finally, they lay together quietly, entwined and exhausted. They exchanged sleepy kisses, then dozed.

Finally Carolyn opened her eyes and watched her beautiful daughter sleeping naked beside her on her bed. She reached out and caressed Sharon’s smooth skin, her nostrils flaring as she inhaled the wonderful scent of the thirteen-year-old girl’s cunt. She just couldn’t resist — she had to make love to her sleeping daughter.

Carolyn stroked her child’s thigh once more, then lowered her face to Sharon’s pussy and kissed her there reverently. God, I love this girl, she thought as she nuzzled Sharon’s pussy lips gently, tasting her, wanting her. Strong sexual desire and innate maternal love had combined in Carolyn to create one even more powerful emotion. “Oh, honey,” she whispered as she began eating her daughter’s pussy with unrestrained desire.

“Mommy? Ohhhhhhhh yes….” sighed the awakened girl, parting her legs instinctively for her mother. “Oh yessssssss, Mommy, oh that feels so GOOD!” She stroked her mother’s dark curls, hands trembling as Carolyn’s head bobbed between her young legs.

Carolyn gripped her daughter’s hips as the young woman began to move under her. Cries of deep pleasure came from the adorable girl as her mother took her clitoris between her lips and sucked at the pink pearl.

Sharon was beside herself with joy, her body shaking with pleasure. The simple thought that this was her own mother doing this, that the woman she loved so dearly — but had thought of as unattainable — was making love to her… it made her happier than she had ever been in her life. “Oh, Mommy,” the aroused girl moaned from a place of deep pleasure, “oh Mommy, yes, yes, YES!”

But before Sharon could come, Carolyn drew back and traced her slender finger along her daughter’s soaking wet cunt. The girl’s whole body was trembling and on the verge. “Mommy, please, ” begged Sharon, almost incoherent with desire. “please, I need you…”

Carolyn then took the girl’s clit between her lips as she quickly entered her thirteen-year-old lover with her fingers. Sharon arched her back and cried out her surprise and pleasure at being penetrated by her mom, at the giving of her virginity to her own mother.

Suddenly Sharon went rigid and still, but Carolyn knew it was not from her darling’s hymen being broken. With motherly intuition, she knew that a mind-bending climax was building inside her daughter, rolling powerfully through her. With her child arched up on the bed with her head thrown back, Carolyn sucked on Sharon’s clitoris.

It was as if she had turned the key in the door to paradise. Her daughter began thrashing and bucking, and a long scream tore from her throat as she climaxed more strongly than Carolyn could even have hoped. The wild cry rang in her ears, despite the fact that the teen’s silky thighs were clamped around her head. For several long minutes, mother coaxed daughter to orgasm after orgasm. Finally, the poor exhausted girl could contain no more pleasure and begged her mother to stop.

Carolyn contentedly laid her cheek on her daughter’s still-pulsing pussy and sighed deeply, a smile across her face. Finally, after gently giving her daughter’s wet cunt a last soft kiss, Carolyn crawled up to Sharon, gathered her child into her arms and pressed the girl’s delicate, beautiful face to her ample breasts. “I love you, sweetheart,” cooed mother to daughter.

“Oh… oh!” panted Sharon, trying to embrace her mother, but her arms were bereft of strength. Her eyes were closed, but she felt her mother’s nipple brushing her cheek, so she took it between her lips to lick and suck. Carolyn purred with pleasure as her pretty thirteen-year-old daughter made love to her breasts.

Her desire now sharp, Carolyn moved atop Sharon, her thigh between the youngster’s legs. She kissed her daughter again and again, letting her tongue explore Sharon’s mouth, feeling the girl becoming aroused again. Carolyn moved up to straddle Sharon’s belly. The girl caressed her Mom’s flared hips as if they were the greatest treasure in the world.

Suddenly Carolyn grabbed Sharon’s slender wrists, quickly held them down on the bed and gazed into her daughter’s eyes with flaming desire. In her sexiest, most honeyed voice, she told the young girl beneath her, “You’re mine.”

The adorable thirteen-year-old writhed beneath her mom and moaned with excitement when she realized she was the older woman’s prisoner. Carolyn moved the girl’s wrists together over her head, held them down on the pillow with one hand, and caressed her child’s breast with the other. Sharon could feel her mom’s warm, wet pussy against her tummy, and she felt herself desperately wanting to pleasure her there.

“Mommy…” she breathed, a note of sexual need in her voice, “please, I want… I want to taste you now…”

Carolyn moved forward until she knelt over the girl’s face, offering her glistening cunt to her daughter. She let go of the girl’s wrists, and Sharon embraced her mother’s hips as she gazed in awe at Carolyn’s beautiful pussy. Her nostrils flared as she savored the musky aroma of her mother’s arousal.

Her heart pounding with excitement, she drew Carolyn down to her open mouth and nuzzled at her cunt. The taste, the smell of her… it was intoxicating. Sharon plunged her face between her mother’s thighs and feasted on the older woman’s pussy as if her life depended on it.

Carolyn grabbed the headboard and rode her daughter’s face, gasping for air as Sharon’s tongue probed her dripping vagina. The board bumped rhythmically against the bedroom wall for several intense minutes until Carolyn threw her head back and screamed her pleasure to the ceiling.

They lay together for the rest of the night, entwined in their sleep.

*****

The next day was Saturday, and Carolyn and Sharon went to the mall together. People smiled to see mother and daughter walking along holding hands, gently touching while looking in stores, obviously enjoying one another’s company. But they didn’t know that Sharon and Carolyn were not only mother and daughter, but new lovers.

They spent the morning shopping, flirting with each other the whole time. Carolyn bought her daughter some flattering outfits and sweaters. “God, you look good in that!” she would gush as Sharon proudly showed herself off to her mother in store after store. Sharon felt pampered and courted, and she was totally wet most of the morning. For her part, Carolyn felt truly in love for the first time in her life… and it was with her own precious daughter!

As they walked along between shops, Carolyn guided her girl into the hallway that led to the pay phones and the restrooms. There was no one else there just then. She crushed her daughter against the wall and kissed her hungrily. “Oh honey,” she murmured. Their hands were all over each other, tongues in each other’s mouths, hearts beating out of control.

“Let’s go in the ladies’ room, Mommy,” panted Sharon as her mother cupped her young breasts.

Once inside, Sharon locked the door… and the woman and girl turned to face each other. Carolyn stared into her girl’s blue eyes with a hypnotized expression, and slowly brought her perfectly manicured fingers to her daughter’s face to lightly trace her fingertips across her daughter’s angel-soft cheeks. Carolyn’s lips were parted, her eyes were wide, her chest was rising and falling with quick shallow breaths. Then she kissed her daughter, tenderly at first, and then passionately, again and again.

Carolyn finally tore her lips from her daughter’s and whispered, “I belong to you, Sharon. Do you understand? Your mother belongs to you now. I don’t want anyone to make love to me but you…”

They kissed softly and lingeringly, Sharon giving a little cry of girlish delight. Then she drew back slightly. “I… I want you to prove it for me, Mommy. I need you to prove to me that you are completely mine,” she explained softly. “Mommy… I want you to lick my pussy. Right here, right now.” She nodded encouragingly, and her ponytail bounced adorably.

Slowly, deliciously, staring into her daughter’s eyes the whole time, Carolyn knelt before her darling daughter. She gazed up at her baby girl, her eyes shining with love, knowing what it meant to submit to her in this way. Then mother slowly undid her daughter’s jeans, and lowered them slowly down her legs. Then she kissed Sharon through her panties.

“Ohhhhh, Mommy,” groaned Sharon as she felt her panties sliding down. It seemed as if every day was to bring a higher level of pleasure and intimacy between her mother and herself. The teenager was moaning with indescribable excitement, thrilled more than she could believe that her own mother would eat her cunt at her command in a public place.

Sharon’s knees buckled as her pleasure grew, and she leaned back against the sink. Her mom’s tongue was licking her labia, her finger working circles around her clit. Then the youngster felt her mother’s loving tongue slide way up inside her, as if she was kissing her womb.

The girl gasped from deep in her throat… then exploded in a soul-searing climax, shaking with the purest pleasure. Her orgasm was the biggest she had ever experienced, and it seemed to last forever.

“Ohmigod, ohmiGOD!” Sharon was lost in almost unendurable ecstasy. Finally, her mother rose, tilted her darling daughter’s pretty face up with wet fingertips, and gave her sweet child a kiss thick with her own scent and taste. Carolyn helped the woozy teenager get her panties and jeans back on and then guided her gently to the exit, pausing briefly to kiss her passionately one more time before they unlocked the door.

Without a word, they went straight to the car, heading home as quickly as possible. Their bathroom sex break had not slaked their hunger for one another, only inflamed it. Carolyn and Sharon wanted one thing and one thing only right then: to be naked and in bed together, making passionate love. The world could wait.

As soon as the front door of their home closed, Carolyn began to undress her daughter. Her heart beating fast, Sharon stood quietly and let her mother remove one item of clothing after another until she was naked. Carolyn then kissed her daughter softly, then picked Sharon up and carried her into the master bedroom, just as she had on the previous night — the night they had first become intimate. She laid her tenderly onto the bed.

Carolyn went back and closed the door, turned around, undid her dress and let it fall to the floor. She slipped off her panties and stood naked before her daughter for a long moment, then came to the side of the bed and knelt by her. She took one of Sharon’s feet in her hands and kissed behind the girl’s ankle. She then licked her way up her daughter’s calf, taking her time. She kissed the inside of Sharon’s lower legs while softly stroking her inner thighs.

When she could smell and see her child’s wetness glistening between her legs, Carolyn lay gently on top of her, placing a full soft breast between Sharon’s legs. She parted the girl’s pussy lips with her fingers and put her aroused nipple to her beautiful thirteen-year-old lover’s sex. Sharon inhaled sharply, then began saying, “I love you, Mommy,” repeating it over and over through her rising ecstasy.

Carolyn pleasured her daughter this way for several minutes, then lowered her head to the girl’s wet pussy and began gently kissing between Sharon’s thighs, teasing her clit with the tip of her tongue. All the while Sharon kept saying, “I love you, Mommy. I love you, Mommy.”

“Yes,” purred Carolyn, moving up on her daughter’s body to gaze into her flushed face. “and Mommy loves you soooooo much.” Her thigh was moving against Sharon’s sex as she held her pretty face and kissed her over and over, sometimes just grazing her lips, sometimes plunging her soft tongue into the girl’s mouth.

After a long while of this slow, sweet, languorous lovemaking, Carolyn sensed her sweet lover nearing an undeniable climax. “Sharon, sweetie…” she breathed to the panting young girl beneath her, “I adore you.”

With that, something broke inside of Sharon and she threw her arms and legs around Carolyn, crying out as she came, bucking hard beneath her mother’s body.

Finally, Sharon looked up at her mother with her eyes alive with passion and said, her eyes shining with love, “I’m yours, Mommy. For always.” They both smiled and held each other close in a lover’s embrace.

*****

The morning found Carolyn and Sharon entwined together in bed. There was a pillow on the floor and the sheets were tangled. Sunlight streamed cheerfully through the lace curtains. A clock ticked softly.

Carolyn opened her eyes, and a smile curved her lips. She traced Sharon’s neck with her red fingernails, and softly kissed her sleeping child. Thirteen-year-old Sharon stirred sleepily and cuddled even closer to her mother, sighing happily.

Feeling a sudden surge of lust, Carolyn swung over on top of her luscious daughter, straddling her.

Sharon’s eyes opened as she felt the warmth of her mother’s body atop hers. She reached up and caressed her mother lazily, smiling warmly up at the older woman. Her voice sultry with sleep, she cocked her head adorably and asked, “Are you gonna fuck me, Mommy?”

“We’ll see, honey,” teased Carolyn.

“Oh, Mommy… ‘we’ll see’ means never!” pouted the girl. “I want you to fuck me.” From Sharon’s lips, the rude word sounded sweet, even innocent. She grinned up at her mother, then sighed as Carolyn slid across her body to nuzzle the girl’s neck as she lay beside her, naked together on the bed.

“Oh… maybe I will,” whispered Carolyn. “Sweetie… do you have any girlfriends at school that you… well, that you like?” She emphasized the last word.

Lying in her mother’s arms, the girl thought for a moment. “You mean, girls that turn me on?”

“Yeah,” breathed Carolyn, idly toying with her daughter’s nipple.

“There’s Cindy.”

“Mmm-hmm. Tell me more,” she said, guiding Sharon’s delicate hand between the girl’s own legs, placing it on her mound.

Sharon smiled deliciously at her mother and continued. “Well, she’s got long pretty blonde hair, and nice lips that look like, really kissable — especially when she wears gloss.”

“Are her breasts nice, honey?” asked Carolyn, her voice betraying her arousal.

“Oh yes, she has amazing breasts. You should see her in a t-shirt or a tight sweater. Oh God…” Sharon’s hand had begun move purposefully between her legs.

“That’s right, sweetie, ” Carolyn soothed. “Mommy wants you to touch yourself while you think about your friend Cindy. She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, honey?”

“She is!” Sharon’s fingers were making a wet sound as she fingered herself for her mother. She parted her legs a little more, and her mother encouraged her by lightly stroking her daughter’s thighs. “She… oh, wow…”

“What about her ass?” purred Carolyn in her sexiest voice.

“God, Mommy….” Sharon didn’t answer right away, busy fingering her clit, making little helpless cries of pleasure as she did.

“Answer your mother. Does your friend Cindy have a nice ass? Don’t make me have to spank you, young lady.”

Sharon made a strangled little gasp and slid a finger deep inside herself. “Yes, her ass is p-p-perfect... when she’s wearing g-gym shorts, she… she… ohhhhhhhhh!”

Carolyn held her climaxing daughter close and whispered to the squirming teenager. “Yes, come for me, sweetie… yes, Cindy is soooo beautiful that you just can’t help but come when you think about her. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, Mommy… oh, GOD,” Sharon moaned, letting her wet hand relax, the moment’s ecstasy fading into a warm glow.

Carolyn leaned over to lick each of her daughter’s nipples. Then she smiled warmly at her girl and kissed her on the lips, lovingly, lingeringly. “Oh, yeah,” sighed the girl, pulling her mother close to return her kisses. She palmed her mother’s full breasts as their tongues entwined lovingly, her hands sensing Carolyn’s chest rising and falling with excitement.

Sharon suddenly rolled Carolyn over on her back, then lowered her face to her mom’s breasts, taking a nipple between her teeth. She gave it a little tug, then soothed it with her lips and tongue.

“God, Sharon,” panted Carolyn helplessly as her teenage daughter made love to her. The young girl slid down her mother’s body and lowered her mouth to her soaking wet pussy. She kissed Carolyn’s cunt lovingly, then buried her young face in the warm heaven she found there. “Oh, Sharon, ahhh Sharon!” Carolyn cried as she began to come.

Afterwards, as they lay entwined together, Sharon raised her head slightly. “So, Mommy…” she murmured, idly caressing her mother’s ass, “if I ever, um, get anything interesting going with Cindy, how would you feel about it?” She paused to flick Carolyn’s earlobe with her tongue. “Wanna help me fuck her?”

“Mmmm…” Carolyn purred, “that sounds wonderful, honey. Count me in.”

*****

“Sharon, honey,” urged her Carolyn, “time to get up for school, sweetheart.” She gently touched her daughter’s shoulder.

“Oh, Mommy…” protested the sleepy teenage girl. “Five more minutes?”

“Sharon…”

“Please?” The girl’s eyes fluttered, and she moved to face her mother in the bed they now shared. Still half asleep, she took Carolyn in her arms and moved a silken thigh between her mother’s legs, seeking entrance.

With a soft sigh, Carolyn parted her legs enough for Sharon to scissor together with her, the two bed-warm females entwined together beneath the blankets. The feel of her mother’s body began to have its effect on the young woman, and she became very aware of the woman’s breasts, so close to her own, Mommy’s soft breathing, the warmth of her naked body.

“Mmmm…” murmured Sharon as she kissed the base of Carolyn’s throat, licking lightly and shifting her thigh between her mother’s legs so that it pressed familiarly and intimately against her beloved’s sex. Her mother felt very desirable to her right then, and she opened her eyes and smiled warmly at the older woman, then gave her a passionate kiss.

Sharon’s knowing tongue slipped into her mother’s welcoming mouth. The teenager knew just how to kiss her mother so as to inflame her, having made love to her many times in the past month. Her mother began to melt in her arms, as Sharon had known she would. She buried her face in those big, beautiful breasts, breathing in the scent of the older woman’s body.

Carolyn broke away momentarily, panting, mumbling something about work and school.

“Shhhh,” soothed Sharon as she swung over and on top of her mom. She gazed lovingly down at the aroused older woman, eyes shining with sweet devotion and raw desire, her long hair sheltering them both softly in their own world of sexual and romantic bliss.

“Kiss me, Mommy,” commanded the teenager, and Carolyn raised her head to obey the child’s wish.

Sharon fiercely kissed her lover and began to grind her body against Carolyn’s, as she knew her mother loved for her to do.

Carolyn was undeniably turned on now, raking her daughter’s naked back with her nails, squirming beneath as Sharon insistently moved on top of her, nipped at her neck and played with her hardening nipples, all the while pressing her sex to her mom’s hot cunt.

She looked deeply into Carolyn’s eyes as she twisted gently at her nipples and rode her. “You’re not going anywhere until I’ve made love to you, Mom.” She cocked her head. “Unless you really want me to stop…”

Carolyn’s hands were caressing Sharon’s slim hips as she hissed passionately, “D-don’t stop!” She was near orgasm already.

Sharon laughed victoriously and lay full length on her mother and slipped her thigh against the woman’s wet sex. “Mommy, you make me so happy,” she whispered as she held the woman who had given her life. It still never failed to excite, the realization that she was now the lover of her own mother. Her mom, delirious with pleasure because of her, for her. As that thought raced through her mind, she came — holding onto Carolyn for dear life, gasping in ecstasy.

Mother and daughter held each other, sighing in satisfaction as they slowly regained their senses after having become one yet again. They caressed each other lightly for a long time, gently kissing, exchanging soft looks and sweet little smiles, and then, inevitably, naturally, gloriously, they began to make love in earnest again.

“I… I can’t get enough of you, Mommy,” exclaimed Sharon as she urgently kissed her mother’s soft breasts, then took a nipple in her mouth and sucked.

Carolyn felt her whole world contract to just that one point of bliss, as she watched her daughter make love to her breasts. Some days Sharon was as gentle as a newborn… other times, like today, her desire made her into a young tigress.

“Oh, baby,” cooed Carolyn to the young woman at her breast. “That’s so nice.”

Frantic now with helpless desire, Sharon moved between her mother’s legs and buried her face in her mother’s pussy, kissing her labia, caressing her hips.

“Oh yes,” moaned Carolyn as Sharon licked her most sensitive places. “Ohhhhh, yes, my wonderful daughter.” A little urgent cry of helpless passion came from Sharon as she eagerly took her mom with her lips and tongue. Soon, the woman was coming again, her child sucking expertly on her clitoris while sliding two slick, shiny fingers in and out of her.

Sharon was delirious with passion. Her mother’s cunt was so wet and welcoming, and she loved to lick her there, more than anything. She feasted on Carolyn’s pussy until her mom begged her to stop.

Carolyn lay panting for a couple of minutes, catching her breath… then she slipped her hand between her daughter’s legs and fingered her to an explosive orgasm, kissing her hungrily all the while.

Afterwards, lying together in bed, stroking each other’s hair, Sharon propped herself up on one elbow and, looking down at her mother, happily sighed, “I’m so in love with you, Mommy.”

Carolyn wrapped her arms around her child’s slender body and whispered, “I love you, too, babe. More than anything.”

With that, mother and daughter kissed sweetly. They ended up staying in bed all day, talking and snuggling, missing both school and work, unable to bear being apart.

The End

Note from JetBoy: This was yet another story I couldn’t find in its original form. I do recall that there was a very clumsy subplot involving an idiotic husband/father character who catches Carolyn and Sharon in the act, goes bonkers and ends up in a mental institution. Needless to say, I cut that bit out. (You’re welcome.)

Author Unknown

Note from JetBoy: This one’s a complete mystery. I was certain that it originated at Leslita, but can’t find it at the old site. What appears here is a polished and expanded version of mine that I posted at the forum, the one that us old-timers used to socialize at before The Man shut it down about four years ago. I made quite a few changes, but not enough that I’d feel comfortable posting it as a JetBoy story — so here it is, credited to our extremely prolific Author Unknown. Hope you dig it.

*****

I should give you a bit of background about myself. I am 42, and once was bisexual. Now I’m more or less a lesbian, although I can’t swear that I’ll never say yes to a male ever again. I have always been a sexual being and I have masturbated from as early as I can remember.

My first memory of sex with another person was with a girl who lived across the street. Her name was Wendy Haughton, and we first explored each other under a blanket on a vacant lot one night. I also remember us making out in the presence of her mother, who encouraged us. She was a lesbian, and approved of us preferring girls to boys.

After that I had sex with a couple of boys and oh, half a dozen or so girls, but I never involved myself in a steady thing with anyone until I was seventeen, when I had a lesbian affair with another girl about my age named Bernadette.

While we were an item, she invited me down to her family’s beach house for a week. It was a delightful place, and I had a simply smashing time. Berna and I would go to dances at night and flirt with boys, then come back to her place, slipping into bed and enjoying each other’s naked bodies in the early hours.

After lunch one afternoon we were sitting on the back veranda, being lazy and loving it. Berna and her mother were playing chess, her father and her older brother were watching TV and I was reading when Berna’s younger sister Therese, or ‘Tilly’ as she was called, came in from the beach. She had a large beach towel wrapped around her swimsuit, which she took off and shook, showering us with sand. Berna growled at her to stop being a pest.

Tilly was nearly eleven and was a picture in her white swimsuit… pretty, slim, dark hair and a nice body; her figure was boyish, with no curves to speak of. Of course I’d always liked Tilly and thought her sweet and attractive, but that was as far as it went.

I had my legs crossed, still buried in my book, when Tilly straddled one of my feet and demanded that I “take her to Banbury Cross”.

What she wanted was an old nursery game rhyme where a child sits on an adult’s foot and holds their hands as they are jigged up and down while repeating “Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross, to see a lady upon a white horse.” There are more words than that, but you get the idea.

I remember saying that she was too big for that, but agreed anyway. Tilly sat on my foot and grasped my hands while I jigged her up and down and chanted the rhyme.

No one paid any attention, and largely neither did I — until after a minute or so, I became aware of Tilly’s thighs clamping on my ankle. When I looked up, her face was red and she was emitting short, silent, compressed gasps. I wasn’t alarmed, but I was fascinated.

Suddenly, as the child’s little gasps coincided with the clenching of her thighs, I realized that Tilly was having an orgasm!

I was alarmed that this was happening while Tilly’s whole family was present, although at least they weren’t paying attention. But I wasn’t freaked out about the girl rubbing herself off. After all, I did that myself most nights and had for as long as I could remember, sometimes even after making love with another person!

Suddenly Tilly paused, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, took a long, deep breath, then stopped her rocking. No one seemed to have noticed anything. She smiled at me and removed herself from my foot. I smiled back at her and then, unable to help myself, stole a glance at the crotch of the child’s swimsuit, thrilled to see what appeared to be a damp spot.

I was talked into a game of cards and didn’t play well, because all I could think of was Tilly — her bare legs, her thin body, and that special part of her that had touched my leg. I even rubbed my fingers over my ankle and then furtively sniffed them, but could smell nothing.

That night we didn’t go out, and in the evening when I was sure everyone was in bed I fell on Berna with a passion that seemed to startle her. We made passionate love, and all through it I imagined I was doing it with Tilly.

Later, after Berna had fallen asleep, I had another orgasm by myself; this time with Tilly as the object of my fantasies.

The next day we played tennis, and I enjoyed watching Tilly’s lovely calves and her short skirt whipping around to give me tantalizing glimpses of her upper thighs and her underwear. I must admit I was a little bit surprised by her white panties, which were rather sheer, barely exposing the cleft of her bottom. I tried to get a look at her pussy through the nylon but I couldn’t, or at least I didn’t.

After lunch I declined to go to the beach and announced that I would go for a walk, and was overjoyed when Tilly said she would come with me.

As we walked, I gazed at her in her short little tennis skirt and her white blouse with black stripes and the crocodile logo. By now, after watching her on the court she had become unbearably sexy to me. I don’t know even to this day if I had decided that I wanted to have sex with Tilly. I suppose I did, but while I’d fantasized about it I hadn’t actually planned anything. Not consciously anyway. Just the same I ask myself whether she had made up her mind to seduce me that day.

When a gap appeared at the side of the unpaved road and I suggested we follow it to see where it led, I think in retrospect that sex with this little girl was what I had in mind. I think I wanted to have Tilly away from the view of other people. And that was what I got.

Tilly and I wandered along the bush track and, as if the gods or goddesses had planned it for us, there were two large rocks that had surely been there for thousands of years. I suggested we stop for a rest and sat down. I must confess that I knew my short skirt and the way I was sitting with my legs wide apart left me mostly bare below the waist. I didn’t care; I wanted Tilly to see.

When she asked if she could ride my foot and go to Banbury Cross, I was overjoyed. Thrilled out of my mind would be another way to put it…

I crossed my legs, Tilly sat on my foot, and I began to bounce her and to sing the rhyme. Sure enough, after a minute I could see it was happening again. Tilly was plainly aroused and the pressure of her sex became noticeable against my foot. Then as she held my hands she began to pull herself upwards, her crotch sliding higher up my leg. I let her come, noticing how beautiful and kissable her lips were, until I felt her crotch on my ankle, then my shin, then just below my knee.

By this time, Tilly’s movements were too obvious to ignore any more. She was grinding her slit against me, her lips parted, a dreamy look on her face. Then when our eyes met, I must have flashed a signal to her, because she reached down to pull her skirt away and, exposing the gusset of her panties, tugged it aside to allow flesh on flesh contact between us.

I got a very good look at her smooth vulva, the soft petals of her labia and, I was fairly certain, the inflamed nub of her clitoris. I was on fire for her.

Once again our eyes met, and with a glance I acknowledged what we were doing and that everything before had changed. After looking around to make sure we were not on view, I slipped a hand up my own skirt, raising it to show my own panties. Slipping a hand beneath the elastic waistband, I tucked my fingers between my thighs and began to masturbate. It felt lovely, but was too difficult to do with all my clothes on.

Finally I let my skirt fall back down, gave Tilly a sweet smile and whispered, “Let’s take our panties off.”

I watched the little girl as she removed her skirt and underpants for me, then she watched me do the same for her. So there we stood, bare-bottomed, in our tennis shoes and socks, staring at one another. I reached out for her hand, then drew her to me, taking this exquisite half-naked child into my arms. She gazed up at me with such adoring eyes that I couldn’t help but whisper, “I love you, Tilly.”

She blushed so sweetly that I found myself blinking away tears. “I love you too,” she said, and our mouths just seemed to naturally drift together in a kiss.

I gently undressed her, then she helped me out of what I still had on. Then we made a bed of our clothes in a smooth hollow of one of the big rocks and lay down together, completely naked and sharing juicy kisses.

Tilly was shy at first, but I patiently guided her, and soon my lover’s sweet little sister and I were joyously exploring lesbian pleasures together.

We loved each other in the open air, beneath a beautiful blue sky, and by the time we had finished. I’d taught her all I knew about breast play; the many ways of bringing a woman’s sex to utter rapture with fingers, lips and tongue; the joys to be found between her buttocks. I’d shown her these wonders, then she tried them out on me. Finally we lay together atop our clothes, cuddling and sharing caresses until the afternoon sun began to wane, and we had to get dressed and go back.

I never got the chance to make love to Tilly again. We were only there for another two days, and there was never an opportunity for us to slip away from the others. Then Berna and I ended up breaking things off a couple of weeks later, so I no longer had any plausible reason to be around her baby sister — not that I didn’t rack my brain trying to think of one!

Years later, I wonder whatever became of Tilly, and regret that I never sought her out after she grew into womanhood. Who knows what might have been…

Had Tilly seduced me? Or did I seduce her? I never really knew for certain. All I knew is that we’d wanted sex with each other. So we took the plunge — and nearly a quarter-century later, it’s still my most cherished memory.

The End

by Kinky_Becky

{ This story was originally posted at Lush Stories in June 2013 }

My name is Becky. Well, quite honestly it’s not, but I only tell a few select friends my real name. I grew up in a typical middle-class neighborhood in Louisiana.

When I was ten, my little sister died. She was born with birth defects, and spent most of her life in and out of hospitals. After she died, my parents were always fighting and my dad soon took a job as a long-distance truck driver. He’d be on the road for weeks at a time, and then come home for two or three days. With all the medical bills, Mom still had to work, and I quickly became like a mother to my two younger brothers.

Mom would typically get home about 9 or 10 PM. I’d have dinner ready for her, and we’d sit in the living room and talk after my little brothers were in bed. It made me feel special. I saw the struggles she had to endure, and she saw mine. It made us love and respect each other so much more.

I guess I was what you would call a late bloomer. I didn’t even get my period until I was sixteen. I was always rather flat-chested and lanky, and boys just didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It probably didn’t help that I didn’t feel sexy, or even pretty. Besides, I kind of equated men to my father.

Sure, I had a few boyfriends here and there, but I just never really felt that connection. After a while, I started wondering if there was something wrong with me. I remember asking a high school guidance counselor if I was gay. She told me it was too early to tell, and that I should give it some time.

Now being the type-A personality that I am, I started to read as much as I could on sexuality. After all, it’s a huge part of who we are. I didn’t want to become the sexless person my mother seemed to be. I would go to the library and browse through books. I found ones at the nearby university had pictures in them. But most of my information came from pornographic magazines. Some of them I confiscated from my little brothers. Some I stole from my friends’ dads.

The first few magazines I acquired were just your typical glossy skin mags like Playboy. They showed a few erotic pictures, but rarely anything explicit. But then I found my best friend’s father’s collection under his bathroom sink, which was considerably more hardcore than what I’d seen before, including some extremely smutty paperback novels. I remember sneaking a couple of them home and reading the stories over and over again, not to mention looking at all the sexy pictures, which were much more explicit than Playboy.

It was also about this time that Mom bought me a new computer. She got it primarily for me to write papers on when I started at the community college in the spring. Of course it didn’t take long to find several bulletin boards dedicated to sex. Every night, I would sit at my computer, recording my thoughts and fantasies in my electronic diary.

Over time, I realized that many of my fantasies involved women, particularly the really steamy ones. It’s funny how it all progressed. At first, I thought boys at school were cute and sexy. Later on, I developed a penchant for older men, like the ones in the magazines. But eventually, my focus was on the women in those magazines, those beautiful, sexy women.

That’s how I spent pretty much the entire last semester of my senior year, fantasizing about what it would be like to touch another girl. As soon as school was out, I’d rush home and finish any homework I had. My little brothers really weren’t so little anymore, so as soon as I finished making dinner, I’d sneak off to my room until my mom came home. And every day, that desire in me just grew and grew until I finally had the courage to do something about it.

It was the last week of my senior year. I had gym my last period and another girl and I got tasked to take down the volleyball nets and clean up after school. I really didn’t know Jennifer that well. She was one of the popular rich kids and hung out with a completely different group. Still, she was very attractive and I took every opportunity to check her out. Knowing it was our last week of school, I felt a little emboldened.

While we were sweeping the locker room floors, Ms. Crabtree, our PE teacher, told us to make sure the doors were locked when we left. No sooner had she left, Jennifer was putting the broom up and pulling off her top, saying, “Enough of this bullshit.” I smiled back at her and started undressing as well, taking every opportunity to look Jennifer’s way.

Compared to me, she was gorgeous. She was about two inches taller, with long flowing blonde locks that I had admired many times before. She was probably a C-cup, but that was still much larger than mine, and her ass looked like an upside-down heart when she bent over to slide off her panties. I immediately went into daydream mode.

When I looked up, she was looking directly into my eyes, a big grin on her face. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks. Jennifer’s grin widened as she asked me, bold as brass, “See anything you like?”

I blushed even more and mumbled a response that included a ‘sorry’ or two and a weakly mumbled “Yes.” Like I said, I felt emboldened. Jennifer didn’t even bat an eye; she just turned and headed for the showers. All I could think as she walked away was nice ass.

I slid my panties off, which were now visibly moist, and hesitantly walked into the showers, boldly picking a shower head that was a mere ten feet from where the warm water was cascading down Jennifer’s body.

I was rinsing the shampoo from my hair, trying my best to wash my impure thoughts of this girl out of my head, when I felt a light tap on my shoulder. I squealed and spun around, causing Jennifer to squeal as well. It certainly lightened the mood, and when I stopped giggling, I noticed this flaxen haired goddess was naked, standing right in front of me.

She was smiling as my eyes fell to her breasts and then down over her belly to her pubic hair, all neatly trimmed and lying flat from the wetness against her mons. Her hair now looked almost brown, draped against her neck as the beads of water dripped down her body. I was completely mesmerized… awestruck!

It seemed like hours that she just stood there. I know it was only seconds, but it was long enough for a million images to flash through my head, thoughts of all the things I wanted to do to her. I could feel the wetness trailing down my legs, unsure if it was the shower or my own excitement. I finally snapped back to reality and looked up at her. She smiled again, the same sexy smile those women in Playboy gave the camera. I wanted to say something, but nothing would come out.

Jennifer just looked at me, almost giggling at my obvious predicament and power she had over me. “Could you wash my back, please?” she asked.

With a hell of a lot more confidence than I felt, I managed a reply. “Sure, as long as you wash mine.”

“I’d love to,” she smiled.

Jennifer turned around, presenting her backside to me, moving beneath the flowing water. Biting my lower lip, I moved to the side, pushed her hair over her shoulders, and slowly began running the soap in tiny circles over her flawless skin. I started at her shoulders, feeling the smooth, feminine flesh under my fingertips. As I continued touching her, my excitement grew, as did my confidence. I crept forward, my hip contacting her buttocks.

Tiny bolts of electricity seemed to course from her body into mine. I’d kissed a couple of boys before that, but it felt nothing like this. My entire body tingled and vibrated, starting anywhere her flesh touched mine — up through my hair, down through my toes, then ricocheting and coursing back through me. I edged forward some more, feeling my breasts against her back. My nipples were fully erect, and I knew she could feel them brushing her skin.

It must have taken me about five minutes to get to the small of her back. Now what? I thought to myself. Jennifer answered that as she bent forward, presenting her ass to me. Slowly, my hand created little circles on her cheeks. I shifted over to the side, bending down slightly as my hand snaked lower.

I’m not sure if it was confidence or lust, but my fingers finally slipped into her crack, and Jennifer let out a very soft moan. I took this as an encouraging signal and delved deeper, searching for her sex. At the same time, I slipped my leg between hers, pressing my thigh against her ass. I was running on pure instinct, conjuring up experiences I’d read about in dozens of fantasies and erotic stories.

When I finally felt her slit parting around my fingers, Jennifer shuddered. She stood and turned around, looking deeply into my eyes. I could see the surprise she felt, but there was something else as well, something I just couldn’t put my finger on.

You idiot, I thought to myself. You’ve gone too far and now she’s going to tell the whole school. You’re going to walk across the stage at graduation and everyone’s going to know what you did. They’re going to know you’re a lesbian.

With a shaky voice, I stammered, “I’m s-sorry.”

Jennifer looked confused. Taking my face in her hands, she looked me square in the eyes and said, “Oh Becky, you have nothing to be sorry about. That was the best back washing I’ve ever had.” She took a step forward. Leaning in, she kissed my lips ever so gently.

This time, those little electric shocks had a lot more voltage. They shook me to the bone. Seeing that I wasn’t going to back away, Jennifer leaned in once again, her kiss much more forceful this time. And this time, I responded, kissing her back with every bit of passion and lust that I felt inside.

My nipples got so erect that I could feel them aching. It was like they wanted to burst out the front of my breasts. Slowly, I found my instincts taking over. Still kissing my new lover, I lifted my hands to her upper arms, slid them over the top of her shoulders and down, stopping when I finally reached the small of her back.

I moaned with my lips against hers as I pulled her towards me, no longer the timid schoolgirl. I opened my mouth and took her bottom lip between mine. I think that shocked her, as I could hear her gasp a little. But then I felt her tongue against mine as she opened her mouth, moaning as we pulled our bodies together.

I could feel her soapy breasts against mine, sliding together. I could feel her stomach, her thighs. I could feel her pubic bone rub against mine, the coarse pubic hairs scratching so deliciously against my own smooth mound. We were both lost in the moment, consumed by lust, kissing as passionately as we knew how. Our tongues danced frantically as we ground our bodies together, working ourselves closer and closer to that pinnacle.

Jennifer wrapped her arms around my neck, hugging me tighter, mashing our breasts together. I became desperate to make her feel as wonderful as I felt. I reached around, grabbing her ass cheeks and pulled her into me. As I did, she moaned loudly, reaching around to my ass to do the same.

As I reached up to grab her breast, we heard a banging on the locker room door. We froze. Shaken back to reality, I yelled out, “Girls changing! Girls changing in here.”

That was when we heard Mr. Baker, the vice-principal, his voice echoing throughout the locker room. “Ms. Crabtree asked me to check on you two. She said you should be done by now. What the hell is taking you two so long?”

“We needed to take a shower. We got ourselves all hot and sweaty,” Jennifer said, giggling into my shoulder.

“Jennifer Jenkins, your mother is waiting to pick you up. She’s been sitting in my office for half an hour. I suggest you both get a move on. You’ve got five minutes.”

We both yelled out to him that we’d hurry up and heard the door bang closed. Not wanting to let Jennifer go, I reached back behind me to turn off the shower. As I did, I felt a pair of lips on my right nipple. I gasped, letting my moan bellow out and fill the entire locker room, not caring if Mr. Baker could hear or not. Not wanting to be left out, I reached up and took one of her breasts in my hand. It felt so different than my own, so soft, so heavy.

Once again, I was getting lost in her. That is until I heard Mr. Baker banging on the door once again, causing Jennifer to jump away in fear. She started to turn away to grab her towel, but I grabbed her hand. She looked back at me and I smiled and said, “I want a turn at that.”

Smiling, she poked out her chest at me, saying, “Be my guest.”

So many times I had fantasized about this, and now it was reality, if a rushed reality. Slowly, I lowered my head, opening my mouth slightly. As I wrapped my lips around her areola, my tongue began to caress her nipple. Leaning forward, I opened my mouth wider, taking as much of her breast into my mouth as I could, sucking the beads of water from her flesh. Jennifer moaned out her encouragement as I felt her hands on the back of my wet hair, pulling me into her.

BANG, BANG, BANG. I could feel the pounding, shaking me back to reality.

“Don’t make me come in there and drag you girls out. Get out of the shower, NOW!”

We knew he was serious, even the part about coming in after us. So that was as far as things went.

As we were getting dressed, I said to Jennifer, “I just want you to know that this is the first time I’ve done anything like this before. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, you know, about girls. But I’ve never done anything. Really, I hadn’t intended on doing anything except checking you out today. And since we’re both graduating, I thought that it would be okay, even if you caught me. But that was really great. I’m staying here all summer. Maybe we could hang out sometime?”

Jennifer just smiled. Not knowing her well at all, I wasn’t really prepared for her reply. “Look, you’re cute and all, and I liked fooling around with you, but that’s as far as it goes. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you’re not really my type… and I’m not looking for any new friends.” She patted my shoulder. “Thanks, though. I had fun.” With that, she walked out.

I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. Still, it hurt like hell. I was completely heartbroken and cried the entire walk home. When I got home, I went straight to my room and sobbed myself to sleep on my bed.

When Mom got home, she knew something was wrong right away. She came in and sat on my bed, rubbing my shoulders while I wept. She asked, “Who hurt you this way, sweetheart?” with such a loving tone in her voice that all I could do was hug her.

She was still there the next morning. After my brothers left for their last day of school, she took me to her room for a nice long talk. It had been so long since Mom cuddled me in her bed, and I found it utterly comforting. After I’d settled down, I told her the whole story — everything. I told her about kissing Jennifer, even the other things we did. Then I described how I’d shared my feelings with this girl, and how she’d immediately given me the big brush-off.

My mother was wonderful about it. She told me how she’d been with a girl when she was my age too. That part shocked me beyond belief. I never thought of Mom as sexual in any way, despite having four kids. Besides, we were always told girls in the Fifties didn’t even let a boy get to second base until they were married. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.

She went on to explain that there are a lot of mean-hearted people in the world, people that care only for themselves. Mom told me that she’d had her heart broken a number of times, and how you never get used to it, but that you should learn from the experience. She also echoed what my counselor had told me months before, that it was still too early to say if I was a lesbian, or even bisexual.

What I remember most, and always will remember, is how gentle and understanding my mother was. As we sat in the kitchen making cookies, Mom told me how proud she was of me. When she saw the bewilderment in my eyes, she explained that she was proud of me for who I was. She was proud that I hadn’t responded to Jennifer with the same cruelty that she’d shown me. She was proud because I felt brave enough to seek out what I wanted. And more importantly, she was proud that I trusted her enough to tell her about my feelings for girls.

We spent the whole day together, and I began seeing my mother in a whole new light. I also began seeing myself in a whole new way. And two days later, when I walked across the stage to receive my diploma, I held my head up high. And when Jennifer walked across the stage to receive hers, I just smiled to myself thinking, “Yep, I tapped that.”

*****

The summer before I started college was a time of exploration for me. My brothers were always gone, leaving at the crack of dawn to hang out with friends, not coming back until well after dark. Being the oldest, Mom always left me in charge and as soon as they left, I would deadbolt the doors. In the rare event that they came home, I’d tell them I was cleaning the house and I didn’t want them messing it up. Of course that was a lie; I just wanted my own personal time.

A couple of weeks into it, Mom told me she had to go out of town for work and asked me to take care of the boys. My mom was a nurse and every few months she’d have to go out of town for a conference. It was always just for a few days, and I pretty much raised my brothers anyway. I never thought much about it, but I did miss the evening chats we’d have when she came home.

My brothers were already out of the house when I helped Mom load up her car. She gave the address and telephone number of the hotel she’d be staying at, and kissed my cheek before climbing in the car. I watched as she backed out the driveway, feeling a little conflicted. In one sense, I didn’t want to see her go. On the other, I knew her absence meant a lot more free time for self-exploration.

I locked the doors as soon as I was inside and had my clothes off before the computer even booted up. I went straight for one of my favorite bulletin boards and started looking at pictures of sexy girls. It was painful how long it took for a single picture to load up, but to me, it was well worth the wait. I also had several magazines out.

After a particularly sexy picture loaded onto the screen, I came up with the bright idea of saving it to a floppy disc. I looked all over the desk, but all of them were used. I knew Mom usually kept a supply in her closet, so I peeled myself from the screen, dried my hands off, and walked naked into her room.

Her closet was an absolute disaster. There were at least a dozen shoe boxes, camera cases, and clothes everywhere. I was just about to give up when my curiosity took over.

Now I never snooped through my parents’ stuff, even when I was little. But I was feeling very mischievous at the time. So I knelt down on the floor, my ass jutting in the air as I rummaged through her belongings.

Even after I found a box of blank floppies, I continued to dig through the boxes. I was amazed at the things she kept. There was a box filled with crafts that I made for her when I was little, bits of macaroni and glitter covering the bottom, but she’d put tissue paper inside to protect it like it was a masterpiece.

Then, underneath a pile of sweaters, I found a briefcase. I thought it was rather odd, since I never saw either of my parents carry one. I tried to pop the clasps open, but it was locked with a combination. I shook it a few times and could tell there was something in it, and as persistent and goal-oriented as I am, I sat back on the bed, starting with 000, and tried each and every number until the lock popped open. The combinations were the same for both sides… 248, my mother’s birth month and year.

My heart raced as I opened the case, beating even faster when I saw its contents. Lying in the bottom were several dildos and vibrators, including one with straps.

I picked that one up and held it in my hands. The thing was huge. I was completely flabbergasted. I had seen several pictures of women fucking women with dildos, even strap-ons, but I couldn’t fathom why my mother would own one.

The pockets held a collection of magazines, but not just any old magazines. This was hard core porn — lesbian porn. As I held the heavy shaft of that silicone cock in my hand, it suddenly became clear. My mother liked women. I smiled as I recalled the confession she’d made to me about her college days. At the time, I thought Mom was telling me that she’d just experimented once or twice. In fact, I’d later wondered whether she just told me that to make me feel better. Now, I was seeing my mother in a whole new light.

I looked down at the dildo. I’m not sure why it didn’t occur to me before, but I was suddenly aware that this cock I was holding was my mother’s. It had been inside her. She masturbated with it; fucked herself with it. The idea turned me on immensely, images of her face racing through my mind. I brought it to my nose, sniffing it, expecting to smell her — but it only bore the scent of rubber and soap. I was disappointed, to say the least, and wasn’t even sure why

Putting it aside, I grabbed the magazines and thumbed through them. They weren’t all that different from ones I had seen before, except for only featuring lesbian content, but just knowing they belonged to my mother made looking at them seem forbidden, and that made it all the more exciting to me.

Behind where the briefcase had been was a lockbox. I’d seen it before. I remember asking my mother what was in it and she just told me, “important papers.” At the time, I took that to mean birth certificates, marriage certificates, and things like that. But now, curiosity had taken its hold on me. I turned the numbers on the dial, trying 2-4-8 first. That didn’t work, but 2-1-48 sure did.

At first, I was disappointed. There were a few floppy drives and a few documents, mostly letters. But as I picked up the letters, I saw several Polaroid pictures under them, pictures of an older woman and a girl about my age. Others had my mom as well. Even more striking was the fact that all of them were naked, and in several of them, they were touching each other. Oh hell, why mince words? My mother was fucking them, fucking and licking them both. They were the hottest, most explicit pictures I’d ever seen.

After examining each and every picture quite closely, I turned my attentions to the letters. I noticed that the envelopes were addressed to my mother, but the address was a post office box. My heart raced as I pulled the first one out.

I should have been angry when I realized it was a love letter. I should have been infuriated that she was cheating on my dad. Perhaps if I didn’t know exactly how she felt, I would have been.

You see, Dad was always on the road, often for months at a time. He only came home when he could arrange a load close to our town. A lot of times he only spent the night, long enough for Mom to wash his clothes. It was like he used the house as a motel. He still took care of us financially, for the most part, but I still felt like he abandoned us, and I’m sure that Mom felt the same way.

I went through each and every sentence, every single word of that letter. It was beautifully written, expressing a love that was so sincere that even I could feel it. I learned that the name of the woman in the picture was Allison. The younger girl was her daughter, Cindy.

It took me much longer than it should have to realize the implications of that, how my mother was involved in a sexual relationship with another woman and her daughter. More than that, I was stunned to learn that Allison and her own child were lovers as well!

I counted another dozen letters, the postmarks dating back almost two years. It was getting late, so I decided to put them back, knowing that I didn’t have time to go through them all before my brothers got home.

I had a thousand impression racing through my mind when I stood up and walked back to my computer. I sat down, looking at the sexy pictures, but not really seeing them. Images of my mother kept popping up. They weren’t sexual thoughts; just things she said to me over the years that made more sense now. Most of them were comments she made about Dad and heir relationship.

I realized my mother hadn’t loved him in a very long time, but she stayed with him anyway. Suddenly I felt like an obstacle — like my brothers and I had, without even knowing it, stood between my mother and her happiness.

My thoughts were interrupted by the familiar ring of the telephone, signaling my mother’s nightly call. I stood up and hastened to the kitchen to grab the phone.

As I heard Mom’s voice, I became increasingly aware of my nudity. It wasn’t uncommon for me to walk around the house naked when no one was home, knowing the deadbolts would keep my brothers out. Still, as I stood there completely nude, I felt like she knew, like she could see me. Maybe it was because I felt guilty for snooping, exposing her secrets,  or perhaps it was because I felt so close to her. Whatever it was, I felt much more exposed than I ever had before.

“Is everything okay? Are the boys giving you any trouble?” she asked.

“No, they haven’t been home all day. To be honest, I didn’t even realize it was so late until you called. I haven’t even started dinner yet,” I said. “How’s the conference going? Having a lot of fun?”

“Oh, it’s long and boring, like going to school with a bunch of people you don’t know. I’d much rather be home with you.”

For once, I detected deceit in her voice, and suddenly it hit me. I knew exactly where she was, and it wasn’t at any conference. Mom was with Allison and her daughter… her secret lovers. At that moment, she could have been just as naked as I was. Who knows? Maybe she was in bed with them at that very moment!

My head swam. I wanted to tell her it was all right, that she didn’t have to lie to me. I wanted to tell her that I understood. I just didn’t know how.

So instead, I said, “I love you, Mom. And if you want to stay an extra day or two, we’ll be fine.”

“Don’t be silly. Why on earth would I want to stay in a hotel any longer than I have to?” she asked, the confusion in her voice mixed with apprehension.

“Because you deserve a vacation. You should take some time away to just relax and enjoy yourself,” I answered.

“I… I might just take you up on that,” she replied.

Smiling, I told her, “Please do,” and told her goodbye. I picked up the phone and ordered a pizza before heading back to my room to get dressed and clean up.

*****

Usually, I would return to my porn as soon as my brothers were in bed — that night I didn’t. Instead, I lay in bed thinking about Mom.

I felt sorry for her. Before, I couldn’t stop thinking about my own sexuality, now I couldn’t stop thinking of hers. I realized that all the issues that had been plaguing me for the past several months had tormented my mother for years, perhaps decades. Then I started thinking about where she was, what she was doing. Finally, she was getting a chance to enjoy herself, to explore, to be herself without judgment. I was happy for her, and didn’t want it to end just because she had to come back home. I fell asleep contemplating how I would let Mom know about what I’d learned about her.

I woke up to the front door slamming. Looking out the window I saw my brothers with their friends, heading out on their bikes, towels wrapped around their necks. I knew then that they were going to the community pool at the back of our neighborhood and would be gone all day. Ordinarily, a refreshing swim would sound good, but I was already wet, ha ha.

I rolled out of bed and made sure all of the doors were secure. My next stop was the laundry hamper, gathering up the clothes before taking them out to the laundry room. If I was going to keep the doors locked all day under the premise of cleaning the house, I had to at least do some housework. I threw some detergent and bleach in the washer and set the cycle to hot, then started loading the dirty towels.

I then went through the dirty clothes, separating them, throwing the whites into the washer. My heart nearly stopped when I saw a pair of my mother’s panties lying in the basket. I picked them up, holding them in my fingers, marveling at how soft they were. “Snap out of it — she’s your mother!” I scolded myself aloud before throwing them in the washer.

I then went to clean up the kitchen which, thanks to the pizza we’d eaten the night before, didn’t take long to put into order. After picking up trash around the house, I ran the vacuum cleaner over the carpeted parts of the house, finishing up in Mom’s bedroom. I unplugged the vacuum, wrapping up the cord with my eyes fixed on her closet. For once, I didn’t even think about my computer or my dirty magazines.

As soon as I put the vacuum away, I peeled my t-shirt up and over my head. I slid my panties off too, tossing them both in my room before heading to Mom’s closet. With my juices trailing down my inner thighs, I knelt to the floor, heading straight for those two boxes. Popping the locks, I pulled everything out, and then lay down on her bed, surrounded by her magazines, her letters, and her toys.

As I lay there, smelling her pillow, her scent still on it, I reminisced about her holding me a few short days before, comforting me after my confession. I missed her so much, but right than, I was glad she wasn’t home.

I organized the letters by their dates; then pulled out the first letter. It was written just shy of two years earlier.

It started out innocently enough. From what I deduced, my mother had met Allison at a nurse’s convention in Dallas. Apparently, they hadn’t gotten pretty drunk and wound up sleeping together. I could sense the pain in her letter. She confessed that she had thought about women her entire life, but my mother was the first, and she couldn’t stop thinking about her. Tiny water spots decorated the pages. I couldn’t tell if they were Allison’s or my mother’s, but I suspected they were a mixture of the two. I was adding a few of my own.

The next couple of letters were more of the same. It was clear that my mother had written her back, and apparently they had talked on the phone a few times. Long distance was extremely expensive back then, or I’m sure they would have been talking daily. While it was obvious she still missed my mother immensely, the tone was much happier — especially on the fifth letter when Allison related how excited she was that my mother had planned another visit, this time just to see her.

The next letter talked a lot about how wonderful it had been to see my mother again, to make love to her. But reading further, Allison mentioned that she thought her daughter might suspect what she’d been up to. I learned then that at the time, her daughter was seventeen and “certainly not stupid.”

She said Cindy had been avoiding her and was very quiet, and she feared her daughter knew she was gay and didn’t approve. Once again, I could feel Allison’s pain, the inner conflict between living for herself and living for her daughter. It was obvious that she loved Cindy and didn’t want to hurt her.

The next letter was harder to understand at first. Apparently something huge had happened, and Allison had called my mom to talk about it. All I could really get out of it was that she was happy and relieved.

It wasn’t until the next letter that I fully understood. I learned Allison had had a very long talk with Cindy and admitted her feelings for my mother. She was happy because her daughter was okay with it, but went on to say that Cindy was a bit jealous of my mother, because it made her feel like a third wheel. Cindy told her she wasn’t used to sharing her mom with someone else, but try to deal with it. Allison said she was going out of her way to spend quality time with her and that their relationship was stronger than ever.

It was a letter written last October that really got my attention. My mother had gone to another “conference” the week before and Allison said she hadn’t been able to sleep since Mom left. Everytime I close my eyes, it takes me back to Saturday night, she wrote. I keep seeing her in the doorway, watching us. I keep remembering how I ran after her to talk to her. I keep hearing her words, telling me how she felt, how she was jealous of you, and why. And then I think about Sunday night, the look in her eyes when I led her to our room, how wonderful it was to share my lover with her, how wonderful it was it share my daughter with you.

I read that part over and over again, so many times that I have it memorized — not just the words, but every stroke of the pen. I was mesmerized by it. By then, I’d read hundreds, if not thousands of explicit stories on the bulletin boards and in magazines, often involving extremely kinky and taboo encounters. But none of them were as erotic to me as those words. I closed my eyes imagining it, using their pictures to facilitate the imagery, augmented by my own wicked imagination.

I admit that the concept of lesbian incest had aroused me for quite some time. Still, I’d never really pictured Mom in any of my fantasies. When I masturbated to a mother-daughter scenario, I would call the woman Mom, though in my head, she was a faceless person.

But as I lay that day on my mother’s bed, burying my fingers deep inside my pussy, rubbing my clit until it was too sore to continue, my fantasy lover had a face. The same woman who gave birth to me, who raised me, who comforted me in this very bed, was now in my head performing the most perverted, erotic acts I ever imagined, and I loved her even more for it.

The final letters were mostly about how close Cindy and Allison had become. She told my mother how much they both missed her and how they couldn’t wait to see her again.

But there was something else, something that shocked me to my core. Allison thanked Mom for sending her my pictures!

She wrote of how beautiful I was, and how it was easy to see why my mother never stopped talking about me. But the line that really stuck out was her telling my mother that she hoped one day that Mom would have the kind of relationship with me that she “really wanted,” and that she would “be as happy sharing you with Becky as you are sharing me with Cindy.”

You know how some things, no matter how obvious they seem, are simply too incredible to believe? I read that line over and over trying to come up with a rational explanation, something, anything that would make more sense than exactly what it said.

It’s not that I didn’t want it to be true. Oh, God no! I never wanted anything to be truer. I was afraid that I was wrong. I read her words several more times, then picked up my mother’s dildo and rammed it deep into my vagina, fucking every ounce of doubt right out of me.

My clean up wasn’t as meticulous this time; I knew I’d be back the next day, going through everything all over again. I simply threw everything back into the boxes and pushed them back in her closet. I didn’t even bother to clean her dildo off. I did take a shower, which was a mistake. Beneath the flowing water, I just couldn’t resist masturbating again, despite my clit being nearly rubbed raw.

It was hard for me to focus for the rest of the night. My brothers complained because I burned dinner. My mother, when she phoned, asked me what was wrong, noting that I seemed distracted. I told her I just had a lot on my mind. She asked me if I had more “girl troubles,” which caught me off guard. I just didn’t know how to answer. My hesitation prompted her to ask me who the girl was. I told her I’d tell her when she got home.

“Fair enough,” she replied, “I’m going to spend tomorrow night here and drive back the next morning. I should be home by noon, and I want to hear all about it, young lady. All the juicy details.”

“Okay, Mom. Love you,” I told her, hanging up the phone. It didn’t give me much time to prepare, but for once, I knew what I wanted to do. What I had to do.

I didn’t sleep at all that night; I was too nervous. Just a few short weeks ago, I was a shy schoolgirl, yet here I was devising the boldest, riskiest plan of my life. I knew the implications if it failed — I could lose my mother’s love forever. Even success had profound implications. Would our relationship ever be the same? Would she still be my mom? All those thoughts kept racing through my mind.

For some reason, my brothers didn’t want to leave the house that day. They were complaining because their friends were going out of town for vacation, and they were too tired to go to the pool. They didn’t want to go to the park to play basketball, or to ride their bikes, or do anything outside. I began to wonder if God, or some higher power, was trying to thwart my plan.

Still, I wasn’t going to be denied. I told them that Mom was coming home the next day, I wanted to get the house looking nice for her, and if they insisted on staying indoors, I’d be happy to find plenty of messy chores for them to tackle. After griping a bit, they finally moped their way out the door, which I quickly locked.

I didn’t strip, not this time. I walked into my room, fired up my computer and my word processing program, and started to write.

Dear Mom,

You recently told me that you were proud of me for being brave enough to go after what I wanted, and for trusting you enough to tell you the truth about my feelings for girls. I hope when you finish this letter, you still feel that way. I wish I felt brave. Instead, I can’t stop trembling in fear, because this is the scariest thing I’ve ever had to say. In fact, I’m too scared to say it, so I’m writing you instead.

I love you, Mom. Throughout my entire life, you have been there every step of the way. You were there to feed me when I was a baby, too young to even tell you I was hungry. You clothed me, changed my diapers, soothed me when I cried. You were there when I took my first step. You were there when I fell, always ready to pick me up and encourage me to try again.

When Dawn died, it would have been easy for you to hide away and abandon your motherly responsibilities, but you didn’t. You lost a daughter, but were more concerned with helping me through the loss of a sister. I remember how you held me close, comforting me night and day, and never anyone there to comfort you.

When Dad left, you filled his role, and much better than he ever did. And I want you to know that there is no one, no one in the world that I love and admire more. I wish I could say that I’ve been as good a daughter as you have been a mother, but instead, I’ll settle for trying to get as close to that goal as I can.

Our evening chats have always been special to me. Over the past few years, you’ve become my best friend. Honestly, you’ve ALWAYS been my best friend. I felt like I could tell you anything, and I realized that more than ever when Jennifer broke my heart. No, that’s not true. I didn’t love her, so she couldn’t break my heart. Really, she just messed with my ego.

I’ve wondered about my sexuality for quite some time, but was afraid to tell you. Instead, I told one of my school guidance counselors, who really didn’t help me at all. Once I finally did come clean with you, I felt ashamed for hiding it. So, as petrified as I am to tell you this, I know if there is anyone who will understand, it’s you.

While you were gone to Dallas, I did a bad thing. While looking for some floppy discs in your closet, I started snooping through your stuff. I found your briefcase and the lockbox you keep your “important papers” in. I sat there trying each and every number until was able to open them both, and then went through the contents.

Mom, I read your letters. I’m ashamed to admit it, but I did. I know about Allison. I know about Cindy. I know what they mean to each other. And I know that’s where you are right now.

Please forgive me. You don’t deserve to have your privacy violated. But now that I know, I feel able to share my innermost thoughts with you.

I love you. I love you more than anyone in the world, and not just because you are my mother, but because you are so much more. You are my comforter, my protector, my confidant. You mean so much to me, and I can’t imagine what my life would be without you. But now, my love goes beyond that.

As I read Allison’s letters, I was touched. I could feel the love in them, as well as the pain. I realized then how similar you and I are. The troubles and inner turmoil that I‘ve felt recently are things you’ve been dealing with for years. I realize now that you gave up so much for Dad, for me, for the boys. And while I helped as well as I could to ease the stress of daily life, I could not help you with what you needed the most.

Well, Mom, I want to fix that. I don’t want you to be afraid to come to me for anything. I want to be here for you for everything. I want to be your daughter, your best friend… and yes, even more. I want to be everything you’ll let me be.

Because Mom, I do love you, and it wasn’t until I read those letters that I learned just how much.

About a year ago, I started having sexual thoughts about other girls. To deal with these desires, I started looking at pornographic magazines. For several months now, I’ve been visiting bulletin boards on the computer and reading lesbian stories. The ones that turn me on the most are about incest. That’s right, Mom, incest.

The idea of sex between women from the same family really turned me on, but I have to admit that while I masturbated to it, I really never thought of you in that way. Instead, the mother in my head was just a nameless, faceless woman who happened to be making love to her own daughter. I guess I was just too ashamed of myself to allow you to take that role. Maybe, deep down inside, I was afraid that if I thought of you that way, it might affect the way I saw you as my mother, and I love you too much to let such a thing happen.

That changed when I opened that briefcase, Mom. I finally saw the side of you that I never saw before, that I refused to let myself see — the sexual side. I didn’t even know that you had sex, or thought about it. But learning about Allison and Cindy didn’t change the way I feel about you as a mother. It didn’t make me love you less; it made me love you more.

Then I read the letters, all of them. And I saw the pictures. That did change the way I thought of you, but in a good way. No longer do I just see you as just a mother, a protector, a confidant. Now I see the whole you, the mother, the friend, and the lover.

Now, when I close my eyes and imagine making love to a beautiful woman, feeling her body next to mine, smelling her hair, touching her smooth soft flesh, now she has a name. Now she has a face. But Mom, when I look up from my lover’s body and see her face, I don’t want it to be a fantasy. I want it to be a reality, and I want her face to be yours.

I don’t just love you, mother dearest. I want you. I need you. I’m aching inside with the hunger I feel for your body, your hands, your mouth — and I’m desperately hoping that you might have feelings like that for me.

Yes, I know the implications of becoming my mother’s lover. I understand that it could affect our everyday life, our relationship. I also know that all that could change anyhow, regardless of what we do. One of the posters in our school gym says, “Finished last is always better than did not finish, which trumps did not start.” I would walk into a burning building for you, so I’m not afraid of a few hurdles. The only thing I’m afraid of is losing you.

Regardless of what you decide, whether you truly want me that way or not, please know that I am happy that you found Allison and Cindy. And your secret is safe with me, even if it wasn’t safe from my prying eyes and lock-picking fingers.

I adore you always.

Your loving daughter,

Rebecca

I looked up at the clock as the printer clicked and sprayed my words onto the virgin paper. Damn, 2 PM already? I couldn’t believe it had taken so long.

I addressed a large manila envelope to my mother’s post office box, using Allison’s name and location for a return address. It was a little deceitful of me, but I wanted to make sure Mom read it, preferably when I wasn’t around. If she thought it was me, she’d wonder how I learned about her PO box, and might confront me without ever opening it.

Okay, that was the easy part. Don’t chicken out now. If you’re going to stick your toe in the water, you might as well just jump in, I told myself, trying to muster up the courage to take the next step.

On wobbly legs, I walked back into my mother’s bathroom, took off my clothes and hopped in her shower, hoping the water would relax me.

It certainly changed my mood, but I wouldn’t exactly say I was relaxed. I’d underestimated the impact that taking a shower in my mother’s bathroom would have on me, of being naked in her room, of picking up her soap, of using her washcloth on my most intimate parts.

It wasn’t long before the hand roaming over my flesh was hers, touching me. Her fingers caressed my breasts, her fingertips pinched my nipples. I could feel her hand slipping down my tummy and down between my legs. I could feel my clit swell for her.

My orgasm coursed through me like a tidal wave, the cascading water pushing me to the floor of the tub, unable to stand until the hot water tank was emptied and it angrily dumped cold water on me to sober me up.

Shivering violently, I shut the water off and dried myself. I wrapped a towel around my body, perhaps to keep me from losing focus, and sat down at my mom’s vanity. I spent the next half hour on my hair, blow drying, backcombing, scrunching, until finally it was perfect. Smiling and finally relaxed, I put my makeup on and did my nails. I rummaged through my mother’s closet for something sexy to wear, added my favorite earrings, and for once, I felt beautiful. No one was going to mistake me for Susanna Hoffs, but I certainly felt sexy.

Reaching up onto the top shelf of her closet, I retrieved my mother’s Polaroid camera and every box of film she had. After loading the camera, I took it over to her dresser and snapped off a few pictures of myself in the mirror, then remembered that it had a self-timer. We had only used it a couple of times, usually when Dad was home, so we could get a family photo. It only took a few seconds to figure out how to use it. I set it down on her dresser and smiled into the camera for what seemed an eternity before it took my picture.

After a few shots with me standing up, I brought the camera over to the bed and took a couple of pictures with me in my blouse and skirt, lying on the bed in the most seductive poses I could muster. I sat cross-legged, letting my skirt ride up my thighs, and then pulled my skirt up so my panties were clearly visible. In another, I laid on my stomach, my skirt raised, exposing my panty-covered bottom. In that same pose, I took another picture from the front, angling the camera down my unbuttoned top.

By that time, I could hardly breathe. Each time I waited for the camera to go off, I held my breath, which in my excited state, left me panting when the damned thing finally clicked. My nervousness didn’t get any easier when I reached behind my back to unclasp my bra and pulled it out of the sleeves of my blouse, nor when I slid my panties off. At that time, I still had my blouse and skirt on, a pair of black stiletto heels, and my earrings. I looked completely dressed, but felt completely exposed as I took the same poses again.

I unbuttoned my blouse, save the bottom button, and pulled it down over my shoulders, giving my best Debbie Harry expression as the camera flashed the next picture. As my excitement grew, I got bolder and bolder, exposing more and more. Soon I was completely naked, taking pictures of myself lying on the bed touching myself, of me bending over spreading my ass cheeks, even of my legs spread wide pushing my mother’s vibrator deep inside my soaking cunt, and finally of my face in the throes of orgasm.

They weren’t quite magazine quality, but I hoped my mother would treasure them. To be perfectly frank, looking at them turned me on, and part of me wanted to keep a few of them for myself. I arranged them in order, putting the tame ones on top, progressively getting wilder toward the bottom. I then secured them together with a rubber band, put them in the envelope along with her letter, then got dressed.

I got to the post office just in time. That’s probably a good thing, since my race to get there before they closed kept me from second-guessing the wisdom of actually mailing the thing to her. As I walked out the door, the cashier closed and locked the door behind me — also a good thing, as it kept me from racing back inside to snatch the letter away before it got posted.

I sat there in the driver’s seat, wondering what I had just done, wondering if I’d just destroyed my relationship with the one person who loved me unconditionally. I mean, parents always say they love you unconditionally. I’ve even heard of a mother saying that she still loved her son and forgave him, even after he’d tried to kill her. But this was different. This could be the one thing that destroyed even a mother’s love.

Stop it, you’re being silly, I told myself. I knew my mother loved me, and after reading Allison’s letters, I was pretty sure she wanted me, too. Still, there was doubt. Fantasizing about something is one thing; actually doing it is altogether a different story. Even if she did feel the same way, could Mom allow herself to give in to temptation? Would having to keep it a secret be too hard for her, too stressful? Would making love to me make her feel creepy or guilty?

Well, what was done was done, and there was no backing out.

As I started to pull out of the parking space, I looked up in the rear-view mirror. My face was no longer radiant. Tears had already streaked my mascara, making me look more like Alice Cooper than a Bangle. I pulled a tissue from my purse and cleaned up my face, then headed home. It’s a wonder I even got there. I was so distracted I didn’t even remember stopping in at KFC for dinner. All the while I was shaking inside, thinking about the enormity of what I’d just done.

Onward to Part TwoDear Mom: I Want You, Part 2!