| Don't Ask Me What Happened Your eight-year-old daughter comes into your bedroom. She is naked. She climbs on to your bed and straddles your face. And giggles. Her kitty is spread over your mouth, your nose is pressed against her sweet little pucker. What do you do? What would you do? What would YOU do? No, I didn't expect this. No, I didn't put her up to this? No, there is no "history" of me doing sex things with my daughter. Yes, I am aroused, The clean sweet taste and smell of her, I would be crazy not to be aroused. But I am also amazed. The weirdest part was the giggle. Like she knew she was being naughty, and loved being naughty. The way children can love being naughty. She wriggles, my darling Megan. I have made no movement to push her off or anything. I am supine, passive, awaiting outcomes. She wriggles, and she giggles again. I resist the temptation to explore her pretty little slit with my tongue. But I want to now. Despite myself. Despite my upbringing. Despite the terrifying taboos. "Mommy, please don't be angry with me." You know those phrases in porn stories "my cunt was on fire", "I was dripping", etc? I can't tell you about my cunt, because my whole being was focused on the sweet hairless kitty with its delicious puffy kittylips that was spread over my mouth. I didn't reply to Megan. I couldn't. I was brought to not speak with my mouth full. Sorry, but it really isn't possible to munch a muff and chat at the same time. "Becky dared me." Oh. Explanation. Becky, best friend, same age, already well on the way to becoming a slut, Becky had dared my Megan to sit on her mommy's face. Well, there ya go. "Becky and her mom do stuff, and she dared me to do something with you."
I froze. Becky's mom has sex with her daughter??? Question: Should I have sex with my daughter? Answer: No way! And yet. And yet. Megan's pussy is over my mouth and I am finding it hard not to probe that pretty little slit with the tip of my tongue. I push her off me, not violently. Firmly. "Mommy!" A cry of anguish. The sound of hurt. "Sorry, angel, but this is wrong." I take Megan in my arms and cuddle her, trying to reassure her that I love her. But not in THAT way. She snuggles into me. The way little ones do. Pushing her face against my boobs, kneading them like dough, feeling the comfort. And causing me to become breathless. Play with my boobs, and I am gone! "Sorry, Mommy. It just a dare." Soothing words needed. "That's all right, sweetie. Becky's a very silly girl." More snuggling. "Mommy?" "Yes, angel?" "Mommy, I liked it." Oh my god. This wasn't going to go away. Because I liked it too. I wanted to know what it would be like to make a meal out of my daughter's pretty kitty. But the little angel on my left shoulder whispered: "NO, it is WRONG!" And the little demon on my right shoulder said: "Why is it wrong? If you both enjoy it, what's wrong?" And my cunt was on fire. And I was dripping. I had to face the fact that I was totally aroused. Megan was in my arms, naked, pummeling my breasts with her face, and my cunt was responding in kind. "That's ok, sweetie, I like it too." The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to censor them. Oh holy shit! Come on, Sheila, I say to myself, think what you are getting yourself into! "Mommy, are you all right? Like, you are breathing real funny. You aren't sick, are you?" Sick? No. But yes. Well, hell, who knows? Love is love. "No, I am fine, baby. Come here, give Mommy a cuddle." And that was it. What do they call it? Crossing the rubicon? No way back. Megan's naked body against mine, never mind the size difference, everything touched everything. Our lips met, a clumsy kiss, but the sweetest I could remember. No tongues, just lips. Tongues came later. No, you don't want to know what happened next. You don't get involved with this kind of stuff. Do you? DO you? You do?! Well, I am happy to know that you do, that I am not the only one, not the only mother who got into loving with her little daughter. I hate those detailed descriptions you get in porn stories, you know, all that stuff about tongues probing and fingers probing and endless licking and flowing and orgasms like niagara. It isn't like that. It is more like a dream, a stream that flows over you, sometimes rapids that make you breathless. But what you remember afterwards, and forever, is how you lost track of time. It's as if the kissing and the touching and the probing tongues in mouth and pussy combine to make you lose track of your existence on the planet. Sorry, that was a bit purple, but if you have never spent hours making love to an enthusiastic and responsive eight-year old, specially if she's your daughter, I can't really explain it to you. "Mommy?" I am cradling my angel in my arms. We are both exhausted. We are both stunned by what we have done together. She can still speak. I can hardly breathe. "Mommy, I love you." And my little Megan means it, but in a special new way now. And I love my Megan in a way I never thought possible. It's possible, though. Believe me. Try it. |