What no one knows, or would ever suspect, is that I’ve been masturbating my daughter since she was a little girl. It started innocently enough during bath time. When I’d clean between her legs she’d become very quiet and a funny smile would appear on her adorable face. One evening when I’d finished cleaning her down there, she said “Mommy, do it again.” That’s when I knew for sure she was getting more out of that part of bath time than was proper. I shouldn’t have indulged her then, but I did. It wasn’t long before I stopped using the washcloth and attended to her bare cunny by hand for longer than a decent mother should. She would sometimes hold my wrist and whisper “Don’t stop, Mommy.” I was able to fool myself into believing it wasn’t what it really was until the night my daughter curled up in my lap and put my hand down between her legs.
This happened a few months after she was old enough to bathe herself, but it appeared she was missing our special time together as much as I was. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn’t resist giving my sweet girl the loving touch she craved. My daughter would come to me a few times a week and want me to rub her there. At first it was on top of her pajamas, then inside. Eventually she would get naked before climbing on top of me for these inappropriate massages. Without ever being told, she instinctively knew that she could only do this when her daddy wasn’t around.
I expected it to stop when puberty arrived, but if anything our sessions became more frequent. I was able to experience my girl becoming a woman like no other mother could. I watched her budding nipples become breasts, and felt her first sproutings of downy pubic hair with my own fingers. It wasn’t long after these signs of fertile maturing appeared than she had her first real orgasm at the touch of my fingers. I knew it was only a matter of time before this happened, but I was still as shocked as she was when it finally came. Our special moments took on a new urgency for her after that.
She was coming to me almost daily, and I was craving these intimate moments with her as much as she was. The day she asked me to take my clothes off and be naked as I masturbated her was one I’d been hoping would come for a long time. I still remember like it was yesterday that first time holding her against my bare skin and feeling her cum in my arms. I felt a bit guilty for not telling her, but she eventually figured out that she could make herself cum without my help. I worried that this would signal the end of her dependence on me for her satisfaction. I was thrilled to discover it only enhanced her own sense of herself and her awareness of my sexuality. Sometimes she would bring herself off while I watched. Her uninhibited exhibitionism was a joy to behold. She also asked if I wanted to masturbate along with her. After all those years, I finally didn’t have to wait until I was alone to pleasure myself after playing with her.
We never talked about what we did. Her father never found out about our special times together. To the outside world we were like any other mother and daughter, except maybe we didn’t fight as much. I was so happy the day she asked me to shave her. It was almost like having my little girl back again. She surprised me the following week when she asked if I would shave, too. After I did, she had me open my legs for her and she stared worshipfully at my pussy while she masturbated herself to three intense orgasms. It was the first and last time I ever came without touching myself.
I never said anything to her, but I was willing (if not eager) to take our play even further. I didn’t want to pressure her in any way, so I left the extent of our sexual relationship up to her. I wanted to be her safe place and for her to feel she could come to me whether she was feeling down, stressed, or just horny. Things became more complicated through the high school years, which involved the inevitable boyfriends. Despite her hectic life as a teenager, she still found opportunities to sit naked on my lap and let me treat her to some tender attention. I probably enjoyed making my daughter cum more than making myself cum. And I could tell from the lingering hugs I’d get after that she appreciated it.
I was excited when she announced that she wanted to go to the local college and commute from home. Most of her friends were going away for school. I suspected that she didn’t want to be too far from me for reasons she couldn’t share with anyone else. I should have felt more guilty about how what we did had such a significant impact on making decisions that could affect the rest of her life, but the truth is that I didn’t want to go months without being able to hold her and caress her until she shuddered in my arms and let out that soft sigh of satisfaction.
Maybe one day she’ll grow out of this naughty little practice of ours. If I could have my way, we’d never stop. Will she still want her mother to masturbate her once she’s married? Or after she becomes a mother herself? God, I hope so.