by Karin Halle
Despite having first started menstruating when I was twelve, I was suffering from irregular periods two years later. And when they did come, they were heavy and very painful.
My mum and I decided I should see our family doctor, Amy Colliss, who had been a friend of Mum’s ever since they were in high school together. Obviously, she had known me my entire life.
Doctor Amy took me into the examination room by myself, asking Mum to wait outside but telling her that she would bring her in later, provided I agreed. It made me feel pretty special to be offered confidentiality, just as if I was an adult.
I told Amy my problem, although she already knew about it in general terms. Previously, she had expected that things would settle down, but this time agreed that we shouldn’t wait any longer to do something about it. She began to examine me, explaining that everything appeared to be in order, and that my problem was most likely hormonal. The name she used for the condition was something I couldn’t remember, but she also told me that it could probably be controlled by medication.
Then she asked if I would consent to Mum being brought into the consultation. I’ve always had a good relationship with Mum and could always be open around her, so I said it wouldn’t be a problem.
Doctor Amy took Mum through what she’d told me, but when she got to the part about medication, Mum asked what meds she was talking about.
“The Pill,” Doctor Amy told her.
Mum was rather shocked. “But Katie’s too young to be on the Pill. It’s a contraceptive, and she’s not having sex.”
“Let me correct you on a few things, Deb,” Doctor Amy said patiently. “The Pill works as a contraceptive by controlling the patient’s hormone levels. That’s why it helps with period problems such as Katie’s. So it’s not just to prevent pregnancy.
“Next, have you seen Katie lately? She’s a young woman, not a child. She might not be sexually active yet, but she’s certainly old enough that she could be – and to need contraception if she was.” I heard Mum gasp at that. “I know more than a few girls her age who need to take the Pill because they’re having sex. And there are others who use it for the same problem Katie has.”
I put in my bit, too. “I’m not interested in boys, but lots of girls in my class are. Some of them aren’t virgins anymore, either. I am, though. Aren’t I, Doctor Amy?”
I was a little smug about my chastity. Doctor Amy smiled, and assured Mum that I appeared to be, as claimed, a virgin.
Mum, however, wasn’t yet convinced. “Aren’t there any other ways to deal with this, Amy?” she asked.
Doctor Amy leaned back in her chair reflectively. “There are a number of alternative solutions, yes.” Holding up a hand, she counted off a bunch of other options.
“Katie can wait until menopause, after which she won’t have any more periods. Or she could have a hysterectomy – that would also solve the problem. Obviously, waiting for menopause is not practical. And a hysterectomy is rather extreme.
“Then again, she could have a baby. In many cases such as Katie’s, the hormonal changes that come with pregnancy and childbirth settle the menstrual cycle down after the baby is born. But I don’t recommend getting pregnant as a method of solving period problems. And then finally, she could become sexually active. That also tends to make the hormones act in a more regular manner. However, I realise that, as a solution for Katie, that’s also no good.”
Mum had remained silent through this list of options. “So you really think the Pill is the only way?” she asked quietly.
Doctor Amy got serious. “Deb, if that doesn’t resolve the matter, we’ll have to look at other possible avenues. That might involve keyhole surgery to see inside her abdomen to check that everything really is okay. I’ve only done an external examination by touch, and a visual inspection inside. It’s actually medically appropriate to give the Pill a try first.”
Amy paused for a moment to let all that sink in. Then she continued with another suggestion that was guaranteed to outrage my mother. “I also think that masturbation could help Katie,” she said, receiving a shocked “What?!” from Mum in response.
“That also activates the hormones,” Doctor Amy explained. “In the same way that sex does. After all, it’s fundamentally the same thing.”
Mum struggled to regain her ability to speak, and when she found her voice again, it contained an element of annoyance. “So you’re saying my fourteen-year-old daughter should start masturbating?!”
Doctor Amy seemed unconcerned. “You know me, Deb. I always tell it straight. Even more so with you two because I care so much about you both. Besides, I’m sure Katie’s already masturbating. Most kids her age do, you know.”
Mum looked at me questioningly, her eyes wide.
I was too embarrassed to speak, so I simply nodded, which caused her mouth to drop open.
“Oh…” Mum said, and when it was apparent she had nothing else to add, Doctor Amy continued.
“See, Deb, she’s already masturbating. Like I said, Katie’s not a child anymore.”
Mum was now the colour of a fire truck. She appeared to want to say something, then changed her mind.
Before Mum had been invited to join the consultation, Doctor Amy suggested that I might be a bit uncomfortable talking about some of this stuff with Mum, and very generously offered to lead the discussion if I preferred it that way, which I certainly did.
“Deb, I don’t mean just masturbating to get off, to feel good. I mean having real, genuine orgasms.”
Mum’s cheeks became a shade deeper. Her embarrassment was not yet complete, however. Not quite!
“Do you have any toys she could use?” Doctor Amy asked.
Mum’s answer caused both Doctor Amy and I to break up laughing. “Toys? What kind of toys?”
Amy shook her head at Mum’s naivety, before telling her plainly, “Sex toys, of course.”
Mum looked utterly scandalised. “I don’t know what – I don’t have … No, I don’t do that!”
Now it was Doctor Amy’s turn to look surprised. “You’re kidding? Aren’t you? You and Matt split up, what, five years ago? I know you haven’t been in a relationship since then. In fact, I can’t even remember you mentioning going on any dates. Are you telling me you haven’t been diddling yourself?”
“No, I haven’t been diddling myself!”
“Wow, I don’t know how you do it,” Doctor Amy said. “I don’t date much either, but if I don’t get myself off regularly, I go crazy!”
We sat for a moment taking all this in, before Doctor Amy continued. “Well, anyway, even if you don’t jill yourself, Katie certainly does. I think she might need something to bring on a stronger orgasm. A vibrator, say. But not a big one – she doesn’t want to rupture her hymen, if she can help it.” She paused, considering. “Perhaps something small that she can use externally,” she suggested, nodding at me enthusiastically. “A buzz bomb, maybe.”
Mum and I both came out with, “A what?” at the same time.
“A buzz bomb. A small vibrator, about the size and shape of an egg,” Doctor Amy explained, making an egg shape with her fingers. “It vibrates and can be used on the outside, but it’s also small enough to go between the labia or even into the vestibule of the vagina. But not too deep, and not shoved in too hard. Or perhaps a bullet might be better for Amy – they’re nice and slender.”
Mum was absolutely mortified, but somehow managed to stammer, “W-where do… where would I get things like that?”
Doctor Amy grinned again. “At an adult store, of course. I can give you a prescription, if you like. I don’t think adult stores require you to present a doctor’s order prior to purchase, though.”
After discussing the matter a bit longer, Mum reluctantly agreed to get a prescription for the Pill, and to get me one of those bullet things. The prescription was easy enough, but Mum didn’t have the slightest clue where any adult stores were located. There was certainly nothing like that in our quiet little suburb.
I proposed that we should try going to a bigger shopping centre where there might be such stores, perhaps discreetly hidden down side streets.
Acting on that suggestion, we eventually found the type of shop we were looking for. Mum looked furtively up and down the street before we went inside, ensuring nobody she knew was around.
The only person inside was a young woman behind the counter. We were looking around, somewhat bewildered by the vast array of items on display. Some of them we were unable to even identify, or even guess at the purpose of. When the assistant came over, asking if we needed any assistance, Mum mumbled something like, “Oh, we’re just looking,” sounding simultaneously unconvincing and embarrassed.
When Mum finally plucked up the courage to tell the assistant we wanted to buy a bullet, the assistant’s knowing smile prompted Mum to exclaim, “It’s for her, not me!”
The assistant regarded me suspiciously. “Can I ask how old you are?” she said.
“Fourteen,” I told her.
The woman looked rather alarmed. “You’re not supposed to be in here,” she told me, then turned to Mum. “And you should know better.”
As I went to wait outside, I could hear Mum protesting. “No, no. It’s not like that! She’s my daughter, and it’s a medical condition!”
Finally, Mum emerged from the shop with a small package and a very red face. Whatever she’d done to explain had clearly borne fruit, though not without some degree of humiliation.
As we reached the main street, Mum scouted the throng of pedestrians once again, still ashamed to be seen coming out of an adult store. Since I’d already been standing outside for some time, it was probably too late for discretion. If anybody we knew had seen me, they would have come up to have a chat, and we’d have probably still been talking when Mum emerged from the shop. I would have loved to have seen how she handled that! Anyway, as it turned out, we reached our car without encountering anyone we knew.
By the time we reached the privacy of our living room, we were both curious to see this device, and Mum asked if I would show it to her. There were no instructions in the box, but we soon discovered that it screwed apart in the middle in order to take a battery. There was also a little cord attached to one end, something like the string of a tampon. It was as long as my finger, and about as wide. We slipped a battery in and put the two sections back together, then switched it on.
It didn’t seem very impressive sitting there in the palm of my hand, buzzing away, but then a hand wasn’t where it was intended to be used.
Being less inhibited than Mum, I decided to try it out. Taking a seat on the sofa, I hoisted my skirt and pressed the thing against my pussy through my panties. The sensation was incredible and immediate, causing me to gasp in surprise.
Without even thinking about what I was saying, I told Mum, “Holy shit! You have to try this thing! It feels… Oh fuck, it’s amazing.”
Needless to say, Mum didn’t approve of my language, but I was unable to describe it any other way.
Bullet still buzzing away, I held it out to Mum. After regarding it with some suspicion, she took it cautiously, as if it might explode in her hand. She sat down and reached under her skirt, just like I’d done, but then hesitated.
“No, you’ve gotta try it, Mum!” I said, encouraging her. “You’re gonna love it. Really, you will!”
When she brought it to her crotch, it was clear she enjoyed it every bit as much as I had.
“Oh, God…” she said, then quickly pulled the bullet from between her legs.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Don’t you like it?”
She took a steady breath before answering. “I do. I just feel embarrassed about doing something like that.” Gingerly, she handed it back to me.
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” I told her. “Here, let me try it properly.”
I stood up and slipped off my panties, then sat back down. Reaching under my skirt, I held the bullet to my bare pussy. Starting at my mound, I moved it down over my thin patch of soft, light coloured hair, and onto my clit, which reacted spectacularly, leaping to attention. I leapt a little, too.
Totally oblivious to the fact that Mum was beside me, I gasped, then gave a long, low moan
Though I was reluctant to move the buzzer away from my button, I was eager to apply it to my slit, to see how that felt. Already wet down there, the toy slid easily through my folds.
“Oh, fuck!” I squealed, remembering this time that Mum was there. I peered at her sheepishly, expecting a reproach for my bad language. There was no need for worry on that point however – she was just sitting there with her mouth hanging open, watching me.
“Perhaps your bedroom’s a better place to do that,” Mum suggested when she realised she had my attention.
Deciding that I hadn’t quite finished road testing the bullet, I rose and started for my bedroom. Then a thought struck me. I turned to Mum and asked, “Do you want to watch me do it some more?”
“Yes…” Mum replied, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, please, baby.”
In my room I quickly removed my clothes and lay on the bed. Mum was gazing at my body with interest. My legs were still skinny, my hips not yet flared. The hair on my pubis was soft and downy, and my belly was flat. My breasts were not large, but at least they were a reasonable size for my age, nicely shaped and topped by small pink nipples.
Unlike many teenagers, I had no significant concerns about my body, confident that as I continued developing I would grow into myself.
Mum hadn’t seen me naked this closely for years. “Amy was right,” she murmured. “You’re not a little girl anymore…”
Now nude, I repeated the process with the tiny joy toy: mound, pubes, clit, and finally slit. Everything it touched felt good, and I wondered idly if it was possible to buy one that had four buzzing surfaces so as to cover all parts at the same time. The fact that I was getting myself off in front of my mother was no longer of any concern to me. All that mattered right then was having an orgasm.
I reached down with my other hand to spread my pussy lips, then gently applied the toy to the inner surfaces. My heart thumped in my chest, and my breathing was becoming heavier. The only things that I had ever put inside me before were tampons, and my own fingers. In the three years since I’d discovered masturbation, I’d used the latter far more frequently than the former. I wasn’t quite ready to try inserting the bullet, though, so instead I retraced my path, then repeated the process several more times.
It was becoming increasingly hard to move the toy away from my clit, which wasn’t very large, but had reacted strongly to the sensations caused by my little miracle worker. I managed to push the bullet down through my parted folds while stroking my clit with the other hand.
I moaned out loud, gazing over at my mother with no hint of self-consciousness. I hoped I wasn’t making her uncomfortable, but to my relief she showed every sign of enjoying my lewd display. Her face was flushed, and she was breathing hard. Knowing she was getting horny watching me pleasure myself was enough to drive me over the edge.
“Oh, God!” I wailed. “I’m gonna come. Oh, yes. Yes!”
It hit like nothing I had ever felt before, just as Doctor Amy had promised. My hand had always been up to the job, but unless I could make my fingers vibrate, nothing was going to beat that buzzer.
I cried out as I climaxed, then something happened that I’d never experienced before: I squirted. Not a huge amount, but enough fluid to coat the bullet and the hand holding it. It was enough to prolong my orgasm, and I could do no more than keep my hands where they were, moaning, “Oh, God. Oh, God,” over and over again.
Once I’d calmed down a bit, I began to sob gently. Mum came and sat on the bed next to me.
“Was that good, baby?” she asked, unnecessarily, really. All I could manage was a satisfied, “Mmmm,” so she leaned over me and gently kissed away my tears. I could not recall crying since she and Dad had broken up. That had also been the last time she kissed away my tears.
“Mummy,” I said, realising I hadn’t called her that in years, “it’s your turn now.” I held the toy out to her.
Suddenly blushing, she said, “Oh, I don’t know. I don’t think I should.”
“You have to! It’s that good. And I want to see you. You saw me!”
Mum reddened again, but she did touch the bullet, which was still merrily vibrating away in my hand. She was still reluctant, but at last she said, “All right, then. I’ll give it a try.”
Standing up, she slowly started removing her clothes, pointlessly turning her back to me as she took off her bra. When finally naked, she turned shyly to face me.
She had no reason to be so reserved – her body was in terrific shape. Her breasts were still firm and full, showing no signs of sag. Her belly was taut and her waist was trim, and all without having to work out! The only thing that surprised me, which I had never been aware of before, was that she had shaved her pussy.
Mom’s cheeks were still flushed as she held her hand out to me, and I placed the bomb in her palm. Then she lay back beside me on the bed, and taking a deep breath, touched it to her breast.
“Oh, that is good,” she sighed in agreement. Her nipple stiffened quickly, and she did the same for the other breast. She rubbed the bomb contentedly over her tits for a while longer, then ran it down to her belly before at last moving it to her groin. I knew just how she was feeling when she moaned, “Oh, yes!”
Curiosity overcame my otherwise good manners, and I knelt on the floor between her parted knees to watch. Her clitoris emerged from its sheath as soon as the vibe hit it. It was quite large, and already showed a reddish tinge. Following my example, Mum used her other hand to flick at her clit while using the bomb to target her vagina. Her opening was more flexible than mine, and when she pushed the buzzer inside herself, I could see the end of it peeking out between her lips.
Not having had any sexual relief for years, Mum was ready to pop in no time, and pop she did. She thrashed on the bed, crying, “Oh! OH!” as the pent up heat overwhelmed her. I thought if she didn’t stop coming soon, her heart might give out. Like me, she squirted a little joy juice.
The sensuality of what we were doing, combined with my curiosity, overcame me, and I reached out to touch the liquid.
As my finger brushed against her pussy to dip into the nectar, she gasped in surprise. I sucked my digit, never taking my eyes from Mum’s. Her eyes glazed over as she watched me go back for more. Smearing two fingers in her nectar, I took one into my mouth, then reached across to offer the other to Mum.
Her eyes fixed on me, she licked her essence from my finger. I reached between her thighs and retrieved the still whirring buzzer from my mother’s cunt. Everything we were doing was so erotic, so forbidden, that I quickly became aroused again.
Putting the wet bullet to my pussy, I carefully prised myself open and slipped the end of it into my vagina, just a little way in.
As incredible as it was, I switched the little gizmo off, then gazed at Mum.
She uttered just one word. “Baby…”
Taking that as an invitation, I lay beside her on the bed, reaching out to touch her breasts – the wonderful, soft flesh; the stiffness of her nipples. I leaned over my mother and kissed her full on the mouth. That first kiss only lasted a moment. I pulled back, then leaned in again, this time for a longer exchange.
Both of us were now caught up in the moment, our hungry lips pressing together. I’m not sure which of us opened her mouth first. All I was aware of was our tongues touching, and a renewed surge of lust.
I was happily enjoying the experience of my first deep kiss when I felt Mum touch me between the legs. Her fingers ran lightly over my downy pubic hair, brushing across my clit, and then grazing along my wet pussy, hardly touching at all. Still engaged in our kiss, I found myself whimpering, and when a bead of saliva ran from the corner of my mouth, Mum snaked her tongue out and licked it up.
Gentle fingers tenderly parted my labia and rubbed around the edge of the wet opening. I knew Mum wouldn’t press any further, unwilling to risk rupturing my hymen.
“Mummy,” I said. “I want you to. Please. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore. I want you to be the one!” I pushed my hips up against her fingers.
“Are you sure, baby?” Mum asked, unsure. “Are you absolutely certain?”
I didn’t answer in words, but simply spread my thighs even wider apart, inviting her to penetrate me. The anticipation of what she was about to do was making me increasingly wet.
Mum slid two fingers inside me until she reached my hymen, putting a hint of pressure against it. Then, crushing her mouth to mine, she plunged her tongue into my mouth and traced around my teeth. As she did so, her fingers thrust hard against my maidenhood, which opened to allow her full entry to my vagina.
An instant of sharp pain struck me, but the knowledge that Mum was responsible, and the feeling of her fingers exploring the depths of my sex, quickly replaced the brief discomfort.
I pulled back from the kiss to tell her, “Thank you, Mummy, thank you. I’m glad it was you. I love you so much.”
“Believe me, baby, it was my pleasure. And I love you, too.” Her fingers were still buried in my womanhood, unmoving. “Did it hurt much?”
“Not too bad. And it’s feeling better already. But, Mum, I don’t want you to call me ‘baby’. I’m not a baby anymore. Not after that.”
A slight sadness tinged Mum’s words. “No, you’re not, you’re a woman now. But you’ll always be my baby.”
We lay together, her fingers still inside me. I have no idea how long we were lying there like that. When we finally stirred, she removed her hand from my pussy and inspected it, the blood on her fingers proving that I was no longer a virgin.
We went to the shower in Mum’s en-suite bathroom, where there’s enough room for two people. We spent a long time under the water, because the first time we washed each other, we got so horny that we made love once more.
Eventually, we stepped out of the shower. Both still warm and high on emotions, neither of us bothered with clothes. I’d never seen Mum so unreserved – I don’t recall her being that uninhibited with Dad when he was around (although they did have a child in the house in those days).
When she asked me what I wanted for dinner, I told her I wasn’t really hungry. She decided she wasn’t either. “What do you want to do?” she asked.
“I’d like to go to bed and have a nice nap,” I told her.
“Will you come to my bed and sleep with me?”
“Of course, as long as it’s just sleep. I’m really tired.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart. I’m tired, too. We can see how we feel when we wake up.”
“I have a feeling that I’ll want to make love some more,” I said. “Remember, Doctor Amy said it might be helpful for my period problem.”
“I look forward to helping you, darling.”
Naked and holding hands, we went to Mum’s room and climbed into her bed. Cuddling up together, we quickly fell into the sleep that often follows good sex.
After a couple of hours, I stirred to something approaching wakefulness. The first thing that I became aware of was the fact that I had my mouth clamped to my mother’s breast, having apparently sought it out in my sleep.
Releasing the nipple, I looked at Mum’s face. She’d woken some time before me, and had just remained still and silent, gazing at me while I suckled in my sleep. Of course she had no milk in her breast, but it wasn’t milk she was giving me.
“Hello, sweet thing. Did you sleep well?” she said.
Looking contentedly at her, I simply purred, “Mmmmm. What time is it? How long were we asleep?”
“Long enough,” said Mum. “Do you… do you feel up to some more fun?”
“I’d like that. I so want to make love again.”
For a few minutes we kissed passionately, running our hands over each other’s body.
As my arousal increased, I remembered the little gadget that had introduced my mother and me to the joys of incest. I found it lodged under one of the pillows and switched it on, then held it out to Mum.
Taking the device from my hand, Mum must have guessed what I was thinking. “Really?” she asked.
I licked my lips to moisten my mouth, but my voice was still a croak when I said, “Yeah, I think I can take it now.”
“Let me use it on myself first,” Mum said. “I’ll get it nice and wet. Then it’ll be easier for you.”
“I can help you.” I held out my hand and Mum gave the buzzer back. She lay down on her back, then raised her legs to make access easier.
I never imagined my mother could behave in such a wanton manner. Actually, the idea of my mother doing anything sexual, including conceiving me, was practically unbelievable.
First, I ran the bullet around Mum’s pussy, getting it as wet as possible, then used the fingers of one hand to pull back her labia before bringing the toy to the entrance of her cunt. I pushed it gently but firmly, and the tip of it slipped inside her vagina. She made a sort of surprised squeak, then drew in a deep breath. As an extra thrill, I reached out and pressed a fingertip to her clit.
“Oh, fuck,” Mum gasped. “I’m… I’m gonna…”
That was as far as she got before her thighs started quivering, accompanied by a rippling belly. Her wail rose in pitch, and suddenly her pussy spat out the bullet, along with a small gush of pussy juice.
I giggled at the lewd sight, then cried out, “Do me now, Mum! Do me!”
Despite not even having time to catch her breath, Mum was almost as keen as I was. She rolled over, retrieved the bliss bomb, then lay between my legs. Putting the bullet to my hole, she began to apply light pressure.
The toy whirred against my pussy, gradually working its way inside. I could feel myself stretching to accommodate it, the inner walls of my vagina stimulated in ways I can’t begin to describe.
I have no memory of what happened next. I can only take my mother’s word for it when she told me I shrieked out in ecstasy and flailed about on the bed. The next thing I remember is Mum pulling on the little string, but I was still climaxing, and didn’t want it to leave my cunt.
“No!” I whined. “Don’t!”
“How else can I lick you?” I heard Mum coo.
The bullet slipped free, along with a little spurt of my honey, which Mum licked up hungrily. The feel of her tongue working away at my pussy was almost as good as the buzzer, and I felt juice run from me as I climaxed again.
When my convulsions had petered out to little twitches, Mum announced that she had another naughty idea. She arranged herself so that our clits were kissing each other, then slipped the bullet between us.
The effect was instantaneous, and it wasn’t long before I was coming again. That time I remember shrieking, but I was careful not to flail around – there was no way I was going to risk dislodging the fun-stick that was sending my clit into a frenzy.
With a howl of joy, another orgasm claimed Mum, and I could feel her juice oozing all over my pussy.
Exhausted, we lay together, our bodies glistening with sweat and other fluids. Mum suggested we take another shower, but I was content to wallow in the results of our love making a while longer. I also knew another shower would probably lead to more naughty fun, and I doubted my legs would support me.
I rolled onto my side and leaned across to kiss Mum. I nibbled on her upper lip, then happily ran my tongue over them until she opened her mouth. I thrust my tongue between her lips with a renewed sense of urgency, but Mum suddenly pulled away.
Before I could protest, she regarded me curiously. “How did you learn about all this stuff? It sure didn’t come from just practising kissing with girlfriends, that much I know.”
I was mortified. Mum and I had just established our own little paradise, and the last thing I wanted to do was spoil that. “No, Mum, no. I haven’t done anything with anybody! Honestly, I just read a lot!”
Mum seemed to be a little placated, but not yet fully satisfied. “What the hell kind of books have you been reading?”
“Not books, Mum. Stories online. Erotic fiction. There’s lots of websites, with all kinds of stories – thousands of them.” I elaborated: “I like the ones with lesbian stories the best – maybe that means I’m gay, I don’t know.”
“Erotica? Really?”
The look on her face was priceless – it was more than mere curiosity. It seemed apparent that my mother had no idea that such websites exist. Perhaps I shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Until that bullet had entered our world, I think Mum had been pretty conservative sexually, maybe even a bit naive. And despite being naked on the bed with her fourteen year old daughter after indulging in lesbian incest, she still had a lot to discover.
Still, we’d shared so much in the last day or so that I wanted this intimacy to continue. Reading erotic stories together was a surefire way to get our motors primed, so to speak.
So I took my mother by the hand, led her to my bedroom and booted up my laptop. Several websites of erotic literature were attached to my start-up page, so as soon as I was online, the screen displayed three of my favourites. I clicked on one and the first screen contained a warning about the nature of the material featured in the stories.
“Unbelievable…” Mum muttered as I opened the latest story. “Can you send me a link to that website, sweetheart? I’ll check it out later. Right now, I’m going to lie down.”
“Can I come?”
“Of course, sweetie. It’s your bed too, now. But this time I’m going to sleep for a little while. I’m having a bit of trouble processing everything that’s happened.”
We went to Mum’s room, climbed into her bed and went to sleep. When finally we woke, we had sex some more, then had a shower and a meal. I wondered how our lives would be different from then on.
The End