Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Ebo

A lovely short novel from one of our favorite erotic authors: Ebo, the proprietor of the Black Lingerie story site… which you need to get acquainted with yesterday, if you aren’t already. This story takes its sweet time getting to the actual sex, but the journey there is steamy indeed. True connoisseurs of the genre will be ecstatic. Enjoy.

*****

“Can I talk to you a minute?”

Fresh off the school bus, Dana Harris had barely made it in the door when she heard those words. She saw her stepmother leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen. The woman had a glass of wine in her hand, looked like it might not be the first one she had had today.

Frowning, “About what?”

“Go put up your backpack. I’ll be in the kitchen,” she said, turning into the room.

Dana blinked after her, wondered what in the world she wanted to talk about. Shrugging, she went upstairs, dumped her backpack on her bed. She kicked out of her shoes, then headed for the bathroom. Business taken care of, she headed back down to see what her stepmother wanted.

Coming into the kitchen she saw the woman at the island, sipping her glass of wine. Dana came to a halt when she she saw the notebook with the fuzzy kitten cover sitting on the counter top, her stomach sinking around her knees. She couldn’t draw a breath past the knot of fear in her throat, and she felt hot with adrenaline.

“Have a seat before you fall down,” her stepmother said, coming to her side. Dana let herself be led to the center island, sat on one of the stools.

The damning notebook was right in front of her. She looked down at the fuzzy kitten and thought, The end of my life shouldn’t look so cute.

Her stepmother went to the cabinet, turned around with a second wine glass in her hand. She sat it in front of Dana, then poured about two inches of deep red wine. Dana looked at the glass, then at her stepmother. The woman only smiled, sat down across from her.

“Where do we begin,” she said, sipping her wine, “I guess we should start with the notebook.”

Dana thought she was going to throw up.

“You really needed a better hiding place than your desk drawer,” the woman said, pulling the notebook in front of her. She opened it and started flipping pages.

Dana could see the paragraphs penned on the pages and her shoulders fell. They were just too heavy with guilt to hold up anymore.

“Then again,” her stepmother said, still flipping pages, “I wouldn’t have known to look for the notebook if not for the snooper program your father had me install on your computer.”

Gasping, Dana finally met her stepmother’s eyes. As damning as the notebook was, her browsing history was even worse. She could hear the executioner grinding his ax.

“Lucky for you,” the woman said, smiling at Dana, “your father is a bit of a dummy when it comes to computers. I was able to fudge the reports enough to cover your tracks.”

Dumbfounded, Dana said, “My tracks?”

“Oh, you probably thought you were being clever when you deleted your browser history but that wouldn’t fool the program. Or even me, if I decided to snoop. What teenage girl doesn’t have a browser history a mile long on her computer?”

Her stepmother was still smiling, her tone friendly. It completely baffled Dana. Surely she had seen what she was browsing, must have read the things in the notebook. Why wasn’t she being yelled at? She should be in so much trouble right now.

“We’ll come back to that, though,” she said, then pointed at the glass of wine, “you can drink that if you need to. You look about ready to jump out of your skin if I said ‘boo’.”

“Drink it? It’s wine,” Dana said, looking at the thick red liquid.

Her stepmother only smiled at her, went on, “I was reading the report from your computer. I was a little surprised how many of the sites I recognized.”

Blinking, Dana parroted, “Recognized?”

She laughed and said, “You know, your father was convinced you were on drugs. You’ve been so secretive lately, caged off. He was certain you were getting high. I guess you were in a way, just on a drug of a different kind.”

“What are you talking about?” Dana said, frowning. This whole conversation had a surreal feel to it, wasn’t going anything like she had expected.

Her stepmother must have found what she was looking for, because she stopped flipping pages. Turning the notebook, she pushed it in front of Dana. Finishing off her wine, she got up and poured more into her glass. Leaning against the sink, she said, “One site in particular grabbed my attention. Can you guess which one?”

She shook her head. How could she possibly know which one of the websites she frequented her stepmother recognized? The fact that she knew any of them was a bit of a revelation. She wouldn’t have guessed the woman was the type.

“Lesbian Lolita,” her step-mother said, still leaning against the sink, “a collection of lovely stories about underage girls and their lesbian experiences.”

The phrase ‘lovely stories’ messed with her brain, spun around and around her head without finding purchase. Her stepmother thought stories about young girls having sex with other young girls or older women was ‘lovely’?

“There is this new author whose been posting stories, goes by the name Dfox,” her stepmother said.

Dana gasped, her eyes growing wide. Did the woman know? Had she figured it out?

“I’m quite fond of the stories Dfox writes. I’ve read every one she has posted,” the woman said, sipping her wine. “One story in particular always got to me. I must have read it a dozen times since she posted it. It is a sexy little tale called…”

“’The Next Door Neighbor’,” Dana said, reading the title of the story in front of her.

“’The Next Door Neighbor’,” her step-mother confirmed.

She’d never been drunk before, only knew the effects of alcohol from what she had seen on TV but she needed something now. Anything. She picked up the glass and took a healthy swallow, grimacing at the bitter taste.

Laughing, her stepmother said, “Don’t worry. The second one always tastes better.”

The second gulp was just a bitter as the first, but the warmth it ignited in her belly was nice. She found the courage to look at her step-mother, tried to read her expression. She didn’t know what to make of the curious look the woman was favoring her with.

“So you really are Dfox?”

“Yeah,” Dana said, waiting to see what happened next.

The woman ran her hand through her hair and laughed nervously, “Wow, this is so messed up.”

Dana raised her eyebrows questioningly.

Blushing, her stepmother said, “Do me a favor and finish your glass?”

“Why?”

“Trust me, you’re going to need it,” her stepmother said, finishing off her own.

Something told her to listen to the woman and she finished the glass in a few swallows. The fire in her belly was spreading and she was starting to feel fuzzy around the edges. She sat the empty glass on the table, frowned when her stepmother poured the last of the bottle into it.

She was only thirteen and thin, didn’t even weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. One glass of wine was already going to her head. She didn’t think she’d need another.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I like your writing,” her stepmother said, sitting down, “it reminds me a little of another writer on the site, Penny For Your Thoughts.”

Dana gasped in surprise, hearing the name of her favorite author said out loud. She loved the woman’s work, had read everything she had posted. Penny For Your Thoughts’ stories were the whole reason she’d started writing in the first place.

She was flattered that her stepmother compared to the woman, even if she didn’t see it.

“Your stories are like the flip side of hers, told through the eyes of the girl instead of the woman’s,” her stepmother said, smiling at her, “the ying to her yang.”

“You really think so? I love her stories,” Dana said, blushing when the woman gave her a look. “She’s my favorite author.”

“Did you know Ann is actually my middle name?” her stepmother asked, wringing her hands nervously.

Frowning, Dana said, “No.”

“I didn’t think so,” she said, meeting her eyes, “I never use my first name, I think it’s goofy.”

“What is it,” Dana asked, getting the feeling she might already know. She just couldn’t believe it was true.

“Penelope,” she said, shaking her head. “My friends used to call me Penny, for short.”

It was a good thing she was sitting down because that little bit of information would have floored her. She stared at the woman, stunned by the turn of events.

“You are Penny For Your Thoughts?”

Standing up, Penny said, “Come on. I want to give you something.”

Dana got to her feet, giggling at how funny her legs felt. She followed the woman out of the kitchen and upstairs. She kept a death grip on the handrail, not completely trusting her balance at the moment. They went to the master bedroom and Penny opened the walk-in closet. Standing on tippy toes, she fished something off the top shelf. Dana saw it was a satchel of some sort when she turned back around.

Penny held it out to her, said, “Be sure to hide this better than you hid your notebook.”

“What is it?”

“My old laptop,” her step-mother said, smiling at her.

“You are giving me your laptop?”

“Well, you can’t write on your own, can you?”

“Write,” she parroted, more than a little surprised.

Laughing, Penny put a hand on her shoulder and slurred, “I’m a horrible stepmother, I know, but I’m a huge fan of your writing. I’ve been burning through batteries like crazy, reading your stories.”

That startled a laugh from Dana, and she blushed at the mental image it conjured in her mind. The thought of her stepmother masturbating while reading one of her stories was a little weird. It made her smile though, hearing her writing was being appreciated. Really, really appreciated, from the sound of it.

“Sorry, that was inappropriate,” she said, and Dana got the feeling she wasn’t sorry, not at all.

“It’s okay. I’ll take it as a compliment,” she said, laughing.

“Good,” she said, nodding, “Go put that up somewhere and come downstairs. We have much to talk about, you and me.”

*****

Stretched out on her bed, Dana hoped the room would stop spinning. Her one glass of wine had became four, which was probably two more than she should have had. Still, she had to smile. She had just had the coolest, weirdest and most inappropriate conversation she’d ever had with an adult. She had gotten drunk for the first time. And she had met her favorite author. Not too shabby for a Thursday afternoon.

“Crazy,” she said out loud, giggling at how slurred her voice sounded.

She and her stepmother — no, Penny, as she wanted to be called when her father wasn’t around — had talked about stories they liked, about ideas they had. It had been kind of awkward at first, talking about such dirty things with her stepmother, but the wine loosened her up and she got surprisingly comfortable with the woman. She talked about her writing, how she found Lesbian Lolita, how Penny’s stories had inspired her to write.

It was a real bonding moment.

Giggling, she sat up and looked at the laptop on the bed beside her. She kind of wanted to write, but she didn’t think she had the motor skills for it right now. That thought made her giggle some more.

“I’m drunk,” she slurred, shaking her head. She never expected her first time being inebriated would be with her stepmother.

She pulled the laptop onto her thighs, opened it. Nothing happened when she tried to turn it on, the battery dead from being put up for so long. She set the computer aside, located the power cord and got some juice flowing into the old beast. It powered on this time when she hit the On button.

As she waited for it to go through its warm up process, she touched the keys, wondered if Penny had ever written some of her sexy stories on this laptop. It was possible; Penny For Your Thoughts had been writing for Lesbian Lolita for a long time, had a list of stories a mile long. It made her smile, thinking she would be writing on the same computer her favorite author had.

The computer was finally ready and she accessed the WiFi network set up in the house. A few minutes later, she was on the internet, heading for Lesbian Lolita. When the familiar pink background loaded, she felt her pulse quicken, as it always did when she was here. Checking out the new story section, she saw her latest submission had posted.

A naughty shiver worked through her as she saw her handle Kfox on the screen. Her kinky little story was out there in the world for everyone to see, and that was thrilling. She wondered what her readers would think if they knew she was a thirteen-year-old girl.

Giggling, she opened her email account in another tab, not her personal one but the one she gave to Lesbian Lolita. Something had told her to be careful, hence the second email. The story had only been up hours but already she had three emails from readers. She smiled when she recognized all three, regular readers she loved to death.

The name at the top of the list made her heart skip a beat and her face flushed with excitement. The woman had started emailing her shortly after she started posting and they had become friends. Lately, the emails had become more than just friendly. They had been getting increasingly flirty, sexy. Dana was usually blushing by the time she finished reading them, her heart racing.

She wondered if the woman felt the same, reading the messages she had written. Was she turned on as Dana when she read the things Dana wrote?

She wanted to open that email first, but she made herself open the other two first. She had to smile and giggle excitedly as she read the praise being heaped on her by her fans. It was this kind of response that kept her returning to her keyboard even when the story had become mired down. These people were the reason she kept pushing until the story started rolling, again. She loved everyone of them.

Sending them a short thank you, she felt as light as feather. With that done, she moved onto her bed, put her back against the headboard. Looking at the last email on the list, she felt a shiver work up her spine. Taking a deep breath, she opened the email:

Hey kiddo. It’s your stepmom. Surprise…

“Oh, shit,” she said, her hand going to her mouth. Her eyes were wide as she stared at those three tiny sentences. She sobered up in a hurry as she re-read them, again, and just what they meant sank in.

The woman she’d been flirting with, been sending increasingly sexual messages to, the woman she fantasized about in the dark… was her stepmother. Her face colored as she thought about the things Penny had said to her, wanted to do to her. Then it turned even deeper red as she remembered all the thing she had written back.

There was more to the message, so she kept reading:

You are probably freaking out like I did when I realized what we’d done. I had no idea it was you. Not until I found your notebook. I don’t know what to say right now. I should probably say I’m sorry, but that seems like it would make it worse, somehow…

Dana ran her hand through her hair, nervously. She didn’t know what to think, her thoughts a jumbled mess. Should her stepmother be sorry? She had thought she was talking to another adult. If anyone should be sorry, it was her. She had lied to the woman, after all.

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, to pretend to be a woman and not just a girl. She wasn’t sure she would have been able to post her stories if she wasn’t an adult. When the emails started rolling in, she just let the readers assume she was an adult. She was a little shocked and amused by what people would say to her when they didn’t know she was a kid. Up until then, she hadn’t been aware of the filter adults used when talking to children.

Some of the things her readers said, she had to look up on the internet. She had learned a lot, maybe too much.

Biting her lower lip, she kept reading:

I need a little bit of time to figure out how I feel about all of this. I’m sure you do, too. We’ll sit down sometime and talk about what to do. Unfortunately, life doesn’t have a rewind button so we can’t go back to the world before I found your notebook, so we’ll just have figure out how to go forward from here.

PS: Love the new story. Hope to see more of the new girl.

That last bit made her smile. Even after all this, her stepmother had taken the time to read her new story.

*****

Sighing, Dana decided that the sandman wasn’t coming anytime soon. She had turned out the lights an hour ago and she was no closer to getting to sleep now than she had been then. Her mind wouldn’t switch off. Not surprising really. She had a lot to process after a day like today.

She rolled onto her back, stared up at the ceiling. The breeze outside stirred the oak tree by her window. She watched its shadow sway on the ceiling, the tree back lit by the street lamp across the street.

Right now, her thoughts were a tangled mess and she knew she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep until she untangled them. Sighing, she picked one thought and started tugging, hoping the knots would slip.

My stepmother knows I write lesbian erotica, she thought, figuring it was as good a place to start as any. She had known it was a possibility, someone finding out. It kind of gave a naughty thrill to the writing. More than once, she had wondered what it would be like, getting caught.

It hadn’t gone anything like she had expected. No angry lectures. No groundings.

She had lucked out; her stepmother is as kinky as she was. What were the odds that the woman being Penny For Your Thoughts? Astronomical, Dana was sure. She still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that her favorite author was sleeping down the hall from her.

Or lying awake like me, she thought, figuring that was probably the case. After all, Penny had just as much to think about as she did.

Like dominoes falling, her thoughts tumbled to her email tryst. Not for the first time, she blushed as thought about all the dirty things she had said to her stepmother. Would it be hard to look the woman in the eyes in the morning? She had avoided her after reading the email, but couldn’t avoid her forever.

Something she hadn’t thought of before dawned on her, and she felt a twinge of loss. There would be no more sexy emails. It had been fun and exciting, the exchange of naughty messages. More than once, she had masturbated while reading them. Now, that was over.

Bummed out, she sighed.

“I’ll just have to find someone else to send dirty emails to,” she said, out loud. She snorted, shook her head. She didn’t have the first clue how to start up that sort thing with another person. It just sort of happened with her stepmother.

Sighing, she gave up on sleeping. Her mind wasn’t going to let her. Reaching under her bed, she found Penny’s old laptop, pulled it out. She glanced at the door to her room, hesitated with the screen still closed. Finally, she gave in and opened it, figuring everyone else was probably asleep by now. The bright screen stung her eyes, and she had to look away until they adjusted to the glare.

When she could finally look at the screen, she opened her email account. No new emails. Sighing, she started to close out the window, then clicked on the last email from her stepmother. She read it again, clicked on ‘Reply’.

What do I want to say? she wondered, staring at the blank text box. The flashing cursor had her mesmerized. Putting her fingers on the proper keys, she typed the first thing that came to mind:

Is it wrong that I’m going to miss our email sessions?

She stared at that single sentence, not sure if she really wanted to send it. It was the truth, of course. She wondered how her stepmother would take it, if she sent her this message. Would she think Dana wanted to do something in real life?

Would I do something in real life? she thought, frowning. She’d never thought about her stepmother that way before. She’d been in her life for seven years now and, while she’d never be her real mother, she was family. Dana loved her.

Closing her eyes, she pictured her stepmother. There was no denying Penny was an attractive woman. She was a brunette, her hair worn long and straight, with beautiful blue eyes that seemed to shine in her dark complexion. Slender and leggy, she looked good in jeans or a skirt. Or just about anything, really.

If she wasn’t married to Dana’s father, it would be an easy question.

She looked at the Enter button on the keyboard, biting her lower lip. She lightly caressed it with her index finger, wondered if she dared to press it. Her heart raced as she put a little pressure on the key, but not quite enough to make the contact that would trigger the email to send.

“This is stupid,” she said, pulling her hand away. The right thing to do was to just let the email thing she had had with her stepmother die, to mourn its passing and move on. She knew that.

Sighing, she went to close her email and noticed she had a new message before she finger clicked the mouse. She didn’t save her draft, just opened the new email. It was from her stepmother, or, more accurately, her email handle, and it simply read:

Is it wrong that I’m going to miss our email sessions?

She gasped, her eyes wide. It was word for word what she wanted to ask Penny. She felt a flush of excitement color her cheeks and she smiled. She wasn’t the only one lying awake, missing what they had had.

Clicking in the reply box, she typed : Probably, ?. But I will, too.

Jittery with nervous energy, she hit ENTER and the message was sent.

Oh, God, she thought, shaking her head, I’m flirting with my stepmother!

*****

Her alarm went off way too early and she dragged herself mumbling out of bed. A hot shower woke her up, but she still felt wrung out. She had no idea when she finally fell asleep last night, only that it was late.

Getting out of the shower, she dried off, then wrapped the towel around her still damp body. She tossed her dirty clothes in the hamper, then left the bathroom.

In her room, she pulled the laptop from under the bed, opened her email account. Her pulse quickened as she saw she had a new message. She clicked on her inbox, sure it was from her stepmother. Her shoulders fell when she saw it was just an email from one of her fans. She’d never been disappointed by an email from a reader before, which told her how much she had wanted it to be from Penny.

She sighed, closed the laptop without reading the message, slid it under the bed. Straightening up, she made a mental note to find a better hiding place for it. She’d learned her lesson after her stepmother found her notebook.

Dropping the towel, she went to her dresser for underwear and a bra. She hesitated, turned to the mirror on the back of her closet door. Looking at her naked reflection, she saw she was looking more and more like her mother every day. Her mother had had an athletic build from running track in college and Dana was taking after her. Her legs were long and finally filling in, her hips more feminine and full, her belly flat and taut, her breasts small and high.

Seeing more of her mother in her reflection made tears sting her eyes. It had been almost nine years since the car crash took her away from Dana but she still missed her. She had been so young, the last time she saw the woman, but how she’d loved her. It made her heartache to see her eyes in the mirror, Dana’s the same shade of gray as hers. And her smile. Dana had the same effervescent smile as her mother.

Shaking her head, she looked away. She didn’t like looking in the mirror, wasn’t sure why she had just now.

She got dressed, messed around with her hair until she was satisfied, then headed downstairs for a quick bite of breakfast.

Her stepmother was in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. She glanced up when Dana came into the kitchen and smiled. She looked as tired as Dana felt.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning,” Dana said, going to the cabinet for some cereal.

“Don’t bother with that,” Penny said.

“Bother with what?”

“We’re going out for breakfast.”

“We are?” Dana asked, the box of cereal still in her hand.

“Um, yeah,” her step-mother said, running her hand through her hair nervously, “I called the school, let them know you were sick and not coming in today.”

“Why?”

“I think we need to figure some things out,” she said, blushing.

“Like the email last night,” Dana said, putting the cereal away.

“Yeah, that,” she said, with a nervous laugh, “among other things.”

Dana sat down across from her, said, “What do you want to talk about?”

Laughing, Penny said, “There is so much we need to discuss that I don’t even know where t0 begin.”

Nodding, Dana said, “I’m sorry I lied to you. About the email and who I was.”

“Yeah, me too,” her step-mother said, then grinned at her, “it was fun, though.”

“Yeah,” Dana said, smiling back at her.

“You said some pretty dirty things, young lady.”

Blushing, she looked away. Penny laughed and patted her hand. Looking back, she saw her stepmother was teasing. Her cheeks still red, she managed a sheepish grin.

“Then again,” Penny went on, laughing, “so did I. We got carried away sometimes.”

“Maybe a little,” Dana said, thinking, maybe a lot.

Penny’s laughter suddenly dried up and she frowned. Looking away from Dana, she asked, “Do you think I’m a horrible person?”

Surprised by the question, she said, “What?”

“I’m married to a lovely man,” she said, shaking her head, “and I’m sending sexy emails to a woman behind his back.”

“Oh,” Dana said, cringing. It was a betrayal of sorts, of mind if not body. She could see the guilt was eating at Penny.

Oh God, I’m the other woman, she thought, feeling a twinge of guilt of her own.

“Why did you? Send the emails, I mean,” Dana asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to tell you I liked your stories. Then we started talking and one thing lead to another… Kind of a cliché, I know. True in this case, though.”

“So, you’ve never done this kind of thing before,” Dana asked, meeting her eyes.

“God, no,” Penny laughed, shaking her head. Dana could see the truth of the statement in her eyes.

“Why did you this time?” she asked.

Penny looked away, blushing. She rubbed the back of her neck nervously, said, “That… how do I say this… we were talking, really hit it off… I guess I started having… feelings.”

“Oh,” Dana said, her heart racing. She understood, completely; it was how she’d felt, too.

“I’m so ashamed, Dana,” she said, looking down at her coffee mug, “I love your father. So much, but I let myself be tempted.”

“I was tempted, too,” Dana said, really without meaning to. She looked away from her stepmother’s gaze, her face on fire. She couldn’t meet her eyes, as she said, “I think I was falling in love with you. The email you.”

She heard her stepmother give a weary sigh, “I know. That made it all the harder when I found your notebook and recognized your stories. I had… romantic feelings toward my own stepdaughter. ”

Dana couldn’t help but meet her eyes, saw the truth in them along with a confusion of emotions. Penny looked about ready to cry, which brought tears to her own eyes.

“I’ve mucked things up horribly, haven’t I?” she said, taking a deep breath to get herself under control.

“A little bit,” Dana said, startling a laugh from her, “with some help from me. I’m the trollop that tempted you away.”

Laughing harder, Penny said, “Trollop?”

“Strumpet?”

“Let’s say mistress,” she said, shaking her head.

“Never been a mistress before,” Dana said, grinning, “I dig it.”

Penny gave her a funny look, then shook her head, “Maybe because I know now, but I think I should have guessed it was you all along. Some of the things you always say, they found their way into our emails and I remember thinking ‘Huh, Dana says that all the time’. I just never made that leap, thinking it could be you.”

“Like you said,” Dana laughed, throwing her arms out, “Surprise!”

“Sorry about dropping that on you in an email,” her step-mother said, grinning sheepishly, “I just couldn’t do it face to face.”

“Yeah, I avoided you all evening after reading it,” Dana admitted, with her own sheepish grin.

“Well,” Penny said, sitting up straighter, “we can’t avoid each other forever. We live in the same house, after all. I guess things are going to be a little different now. Can’t see how we can go back to the way it was before.”

“Guess not,” Dana said.

“So,” Penny said, standing up and pacing, “we need to figure out how we are going to go forward.”

“Okay,” she said, watching the woman pace.

“I guess first thing,” she said, laughing, “is I’m not going to tell your father about your writing or your secret identity. Maybe I’m selfish, but I enjoy reading your stories too much to do the right thing.”

Dana had to grin at that, “Wow.”

“In return, don’t tell him about my writing. He doesn’t know about Lesbian Lolita, and surely wouldn’t approve.”

“Okay,” she said, thinking Penny was probably right.

“Good,” her stepmother said, sighing with relief.

“What about the other thing? The emails,” Dana asked, shyly.

Her stepmother stopped passing, sat down next to her. Glancing sideways at her, she said, “I don’t know.”

“Can’t pretend it didn’t happen,” Dana said.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. I had a blast emailing with you.”

“I liked it, too.”

Her stepmother nodded, was silent for a moment. Finally, she said, “After I got done freaking out about realizing I’d been sending… well, you know what I sent… I was sitting at the table, drinking and staring at your notebook. For the briefest of seconds I wonder what if…”

“What if we didn’t stop,” Dana asked, her heart racing.

“Yeah, that,” she said, laughing.

“It wouldn’t be the same,” Dana said, looking at her, “it isn’t anonymous anymore.”

“No, I guess it isn’t.”

“Do you think…” she said, then her words dried up. She started to ask if Penny would still want to email, now that she knew who was on the other end. She changed her mind, not sure if she could take it if her stepmother said no. It hadn’t been a lie when she said she was falling in love with her internet friend. A hedge, maybe, but not a lie. There was no falling, anymore. She was in love with her stepmother’s alter ego.

Maybe Penny read the question in her eyes, or was just on the same wavelength, because she said, “You’re very beautiful, Dana. I wish I could say I’ve never noticed before.”

That last line made her grin, “Checking out your stepdaughter. Shame, shame.”

Laughing, her stepmother said, “You have read my stories before, right?”

She frowned, thinking about just what that meant. She blushed bright read when she noticed a pattern to a lot of Penny’s stories, said, “Oh.”

A smile at Dana’s expense kept tugging at the corners of Penny’s mouth and she had to look away. Dana could see her trying not to laugh, which didn’t do anything for her embarrassment.

“I never… did you… am I…” Dana tried to find the words to ask if the girls in Penny’s stories, the ones who ended up sleeping with their stepmothers, were based on her.

“Were you the inspiration for my stories?” Penny asked for her, her own cheeks coloring, “Not at first. It was my own experience with my adopted mother that sparked the stories. Then there you are growing up, becoming this beautiful young woman and… I never intended to do anything about these fantasies.”

“Oh,” Dana said, her mind reeling. She never suspected her stepmother had feelings like that for her, any thought of her past a packaged deal with her father. She knew the woman loved her, maybe even as much as a real daughter but never like this.

“Whoa, my hands are shaking,” Penny said, with a nervous laugh, “I can’t believe I said that out loud.”

Dana swallowed hard, wondered if she dared to admit she thought Penny was beautiful, too. She found her stepmother very appealing, especially now that she knew she was the woman behind the emails. Something was changing, her stepmother and the emailer slowly merging into one person. Dana was more than a little surprised how much she liked the person emerging.

“I… I think you’re beautiful, too,” she said, quietly. She couldn’t meet her stepmother’s eyes, even when she felt the woman looking at her.

Dana,” Penny said, softly. Her voice beckoned and the girl had to look up, meet her eyes. The woman’s soul was laid bare in those eyes and Dana could see longing, confusion, shame, and love in them. She had to look away, couldn’t. That look had her transfixed.

The woman finally looked away, breaking the spell. She shook her head, said, “We are way down the rabbit hole, now, aren’t we?”

Alice in Wonderland was one of her favorite stories and Dana smiled at the reference. “Does that make me the white rabbit or you?”

“It’s hard to say,” Penny said, laughing, “maybe we are each others’ white rabbit.”

Tucking her hair behind her ear, shyly, Dana said, “Alice had some good times down the rabbit hole.”

Her stepmother blinked at her, then slowly a curious smile spread on her face. She gave Dana a weighing look that made the girl blush. The smile became playful as she asked, “Are you sure?”

“We are just talking about emails, right?” Dana said, her heart pounding in her breast at the sight of that smile.

“Probably,” her stepmother said, still smiling that smile.

Her galloping heart missed a beat, stuttered, then was racing even faster than before. She didn’t know if her stepmother was just teasing, or if she’d actually let something more happen than just emailing back and forth.

Swallowing hard, Dana managed to say, “I think so.”

“I need you to be sure, Dana,” Penny said, smiling at her, “if you don’t want to continue emailing, then we won’t. Or we can stop at any time, if you ever need to. It’s up to you.”

Dana took a deep breath and nodded, “I want to.”

*****

It was late and she should be asleep, but Dana wasn’t. She sat on her bed, her back against the headboard and her new laptop on her thighs. The bright display lit up the dark room.

She stared at the blank email box, her hands shaking with excitement. She was really going to do it, send her stepmother a sexy email. She’d been trying to work up the nerve to do it all afternoon, ever since they had gotten back from their lunch. A few times, she had started to, then chickened out. One time she even started to write something, then had closed the email out, too embarrassed to finish it.

“Okay,” she said, out loud, putting her fingers on the keys.

Hesitating, she didn’t know what to type. The emails had gotten pretty hot and heavy between them before she learned it was her stepmother she was writing to, but diving right back in didn’t seem right. Their relationship was familiar yet different, the same but still new.

Finally, her fingers began to move and words appeared in the box:

You know that little black dress you wear out sometimes, the one with the spaghetti straps and hardly any back at all? I love that dress and I hope someday I can wear something like it as well as you do. You always look amazing in it. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that before…

Re-reading what she had typed, she wondered where she was going with the thought. She had just been writing and it was what had appeared on the screen. Her fingers found the home keys again and she began to type:

I always wondered what kind of panties you’d wear under such a sexy dress. Maybe some lacy boy shorts or a tiny thong. Or maybe nothing, at all. To feel the cool breeze on your bare skin would be nice don’t you think and the chance of someone seeing you thrilling. It would be exciting, walking around wondering if anyone knew your little secret…

Dana stopped typing, feeling the first tingle of excitement. Her words were turning her on, the mental image of her step-mother in the black dress making her breathing funny. She went on:

I think I’d be so turned on by the time I made it home, so excited I’d just have to touch myself or explode. I wouldn’t even make it to my room, just close the front door and lean against it, pull the dress up around my hips and let my fingers have their fun. I’d rub my clit until I came so hard my knees gave out. I’d just sit there on the floor, my dress around my hips, stunned by how good it had felt.

She felt a flush of heat between her thighs as she became excited. She had two mental images battling for her attention, one of her stepmother leaning against the front door playing with herself, the black dress gathered around her full hips; and the other, an image of Dana in a little black dress, doing the same.

Maybe I won’t wear panties to school tomorrow. How thrilling will that be? The boys always try to sneak a peek when you wear a skirt. I’d be so nervous that one of them might see me, see more than they bargained for. How exciting that chance might be. I’d surely be so horny by the time I made it home, I’d have to run up to my room and finally do something about the heat between my thighs. Mmmm… I think I might not wear panties tomorrow.

Pausing, she tried to calm down. She’d worked herself into a state, had excited herself, trying to turn her stepmother on. She looked at the SEND button at the bottom of the email box, biting her lower lip. With a nervous giggle she clicked on the button, then wished she hadn’t. It had been a spontaneous action, one she wished she had thought out before doing it. She might have still sent it, but now she couldn’t take it back.

She stared at the ‘Your message has been sent’ message, wondered what her stepmother would think when she read it. A naughty shiver worked its way up her spine and she giggled, again. It was so wrong, sending that email. So wrong and so exciting.

“This was a bad idea,” she said, thinking she couldn’t wait to do it again.

She was too excited to go to bed now, her thirteen-year-old body thrumming with nervous sexual energy. It was the same thrill she got from writing, from posting her stories on Lesbian Lolita. Thinking about the site, she had to smile.

“Why not?” she said, out loud.

Closing her email, she opened the link to Lesbian Lolita, found Penny For Your Thoughts’ page. She clicked on her favorite story, one she’d read at least a dozen times. She glanced at the door, wished again it had a lock. Then again, she might not use it. It only added to the thrill, the chance of getting caught.

Giggling, she stripped out of her panties, tossed them aside. With a shiver working through her, she removed her sleep shirt and threw it aside, as well. Naked, she leaned back against the headboard, gasping as the cool wood touched her bare skin. Putting the computer on the bed beside her, Dana spread her legs wide and let her right hand slip into the junction of her thighs. With her left hand, she used the down arrow to scroll through the story.

The story started slowly but built into an erotic frenzy, with a climax that always took Dana’s breath away. Her fingers made lazy circles, her fingertips teasing her bud as she read the opening segment. As the story began to gather steam, her caresses grew faster. Soft sighs dripped from her slack mouth and her hips began to roll against her hand as she became more and more excited. Those soft sighs became moans as the sexual tension between the main characters of the story slowly ratcheted up.

By the time she reached the scene where the young girl finally succumbs to her stepmother’s advances, she was writhing in pure pleasure, had trouble focusing on pushing the down arrow to keep the story rolling.

This reading was different than the others. The characters in her mind’s eyes had morphed into her stepmother and her. Penny For Your Thoughts lovely prose filled her imagination with sexy images of her stepmother doing wonderful things to her young body, things that had her rocketing toward release. Her body was gathering tension, ready to explode. She was gritting her teeth to keep quiet, not completely succeeding.

She reached the brilliant climax of the story, felt her body stiffen even as the girl came in the story, pushed to the brink of ecstasy by her stepmother’s mouth and into bliss. Dana gasped as she orgasmed, too, shaking so hard her knee bumped the laptop, knocking it aside.

“Shit,” she gasped, laughing. She let her head lull back against the headboard as the feel-good endorphins began to flow. Her thoughts a little fuzzy, she still finished the story. She loved how it ended, the stepmother and daughter in love. Like a fairy tale, she thought.

She wondered if she was the inspiration for the girl in this story. Did Penny think about them living ‘happily ever after’?

Shaking her head, she closed the computer, pushed it under the bed. Not bothering to get dressed, she crawled under the covers, mindful of the damp spot she’d left and closed her eyes. She didn’t expect sleep to take her, figured it would be a while before she got some rest. She was wrong.

*****

Her stepmother looked up at her when she came into the kitchen for breakfast. She gave Dana a curious smile, looked at the skirt she was wearing to school. Dana could almost see the wheels turning in her brain and had to smile. She had read the email.

She got a bowl and a box of cereal from the cabinet, a spoon from the silverware drawer and the milk from the fridge and sat down across from her stepmother. The woman leaned in close and whispered, “You are wearing panties under that skirt, aren’t you, young lady?”

Winking at her, she said, “Why don’t you ask the boys at school?”

Onward to Chapter Two!

by Author Unknown

Note from JetBoy: Not an especially dirty story, so don’t bother if you’re only looking for a quick masturbation fix. However, if the idea of helpless desire between sisters gets your motor purring, read on and enjoy.

*****

She blinked once, and then twice, not a word coming from her lips. I could only just make out Louisa’s presence in the darkness, but a moonlight reflection coming from the windows glinted across her pupils as we both lay there, motionless, the only sound, the wind outside, and our shortened scared breaths.

We weren’t scared of ghosts or murderers or phobias or witches. We were scared of where this was going, what we had done and the future, if indeed we had one. Everything was racing through our minds and the thoughts were paralyzing.

So here we were, two sisters trying to find the energy or willpower to move forwards but neither wanting to admit the truth. Life seemed so clear yesterday but today, everything had changed.

I looked down at her naked body lying next to mine. The night was humid and there was a warmth between us, something hot created by our pulsing emotions.

She looked incredible, the moonlight glistening over her tanned skin. The arch of her back sloped down to her thin waist and then up again to the roundness of her bottom, letting her figure form a landscape, silhouetted in the darkness.

My eyes continued to caress her body as they moved along her thighs and up to her breasts. Her nipples were standing out on top of her glistening skin and even in the darkened room her breasts showed every movement she took flowing through them.

I could smell her scent, the sensuousness of her natural body mixed with perfume. Her smell turned me on so much and I could feel a wetness starting in my own groin. She would almost certainly smell my excitement soon so I moved my legs closer together to try and delay it a little longer. My thighs slipping across with ease as a combination of my night sweat and excitement lubricated my skin.

She opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out. I knew what she wanted to say because I wanted to say it too; but neither of us could. If we said anything, then it would make it all reality. If we talked about tomorrow or yesterday, then today would become real and neither our minds, nor our souls would understand.

An amount of time passed, maybe minutes, probably hours. Did it even matter?

The morning was approaching, but the only thing I could focus on was the beating of my heart, pounding through my entire body. Maybe It was trying to talk to me, maybe hoping to give me some advice. But the language of the heart speaks in a tongue known only to itself and our elusive subconscious minds. Its continuous mumblings told me nothing except that I couldn’t take much more of this.

She reached her hand forward, sliding it along the bed with almost imperceptible slowness. Was she trying to reach out to me physically, or emotionally? We were only a foot apart but it felt like forever as her hand inched its way along. It was barely halfway, but my heart was racing. I wanted to feel her touch again, feel her sensual energy but something was stopping me. Maybe my conscience, maybe my lack of courage, either way I had to act.

“Please,” I said in a soft tone, my intonation suggesting I wanted her to stop.

She was looking down but the words brought her gaze back up to mine.

“But then why did you come in here, why…” She trailed off as she sensed my hesitancy.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Because part of me wants to, but I don’t think I can.” My voice was just a whisper and I was barely speaking.

“But… this morning?” Her eyes tearful now and her voice sounded like she was about to cry.

“This morning we shouldn’t have said what we did. I don’t regret it, but I’m not sure I could handle it. I’m worried what people will think. What the world will think. We should both forget about it.” As the words left my mouth I knew I didn’t mean them.

The look in her eyes was bringing me to tears too. How did we get here? How did we get to this point? Why didn’t we stop each other? Why didn’t we…?

The questions in my head meant nothing, they had no meaning because I knew the answers already.

We didn’t stop because we both wanted it, wanted each other. We weren’t drunk, we weren’t high, we can’t blame it on a lack of inhibitions. There is a word to describe what we both felt, why we did what we did, but neither of us dared utter it. The most magical and powerful word in the world, but at this moment it was a forbidden fruit.

I suddenly felt the touch of her hand on mine, our fingers interlocking and making our hands as one. I bit my lip as a shiver ran over my body. I wanted to stop her but I had no power.

I looked down at her hand but it hadn’t moved, it was mine that had grasped hers. Was my subconscious taking control? Was my emotional side doing something that my mind could not? I gripped her hand tighter as my conscious body followed where my emotions had led.

I looked back up at her eyes, her beautiful round eyes, my sister’s eyes, they were smiling at me in a way only she can. Her hand responded to my lead and gripped back. I could feel another heartbeat, this time through my fingers. My sister’s heart, beating faster than mine, and I felt a different feeling, something warm, something not unwelcome.

I smiled back and brought our hands up till they were almost touching our faces. This time it was her turn to act. She pulled gently, moving my hand closer, lifted her head just a fraction so our eyes met and kissed the back of it ever so gently.

I gripped tighter, instinctively reacting to her touch. Her lips caressed my hand and my eyes closed in response.

The wetness in my groin was increasing and I was struggling to hold back the pleasure. My resistance was weakening.

“Louisa,” I whispered as my mind drifted back to this morning. The feelings started to return and my will was not strong enough to stop them this time.

I drew our clasped hands towards my own face and returned the passion she had shown, kissing her hand back.

Was it going to happen again? Would either of us be able to stop it this time? My heart was racing so fast now I could hardly breathe.

She smiled, and I smiled and we both hesitantly pulled our bodies closer together. I raised my knees up towards my chest exposing my womanhood to the room behind. She must have been able to smell my excitement now but I didn’t care.

I closed my eyes again and decided not to think. My emotions were in control and my conscious mind had been rejected.

***

I was so looking forward to seeing my sister again. Over the last couple of years, as we had both grown up and moved into our own homes, we saw less and less of each other and in the last 6 months had only really spoken on the phone and even then just for a brief while.

It’s amazing how quickly 2 years can go by and yet the power of the words we spoke that day still stayed with me. I found myself thinking about her more and more the less we saw each other and wondering how long would pass before the next time.

This all changed though when she phoned up out of the blue a couple of nights ago and invited herself over. I was so pleased just to hear her voice but the thought of seeing her after all this time made me so happy I could barely breathe.

Straight after I hung up the phone, I started to get myself ready to see her again. I booked with the beautician and stylist so I could look the best for my sister.

I was filled with very mixed emotions. I was looking forward to spending some time with her after so long but also a little apprehensive about how we would be around each other. I wasn’t sure if she had thought about that day as much as me. Part of me hoped that she had, while the other part wished we never spoke of it again.

The following day went by so quickly as I counted the hours till she arrived. When the day came, my heart was pounding so fast it was almost coming out of my chest.

The moment arrived and there was a knock at the door. I bounded over to open it and when I saw Louisa standing there I couldn’t help flinging my arms around her and embracing her fully.

“Wow, Leah!” she exclaimed with a laugh in her voice. “Have you missed me that much?”

“More than you know,” I responded gripping her even tighter.

“I can see!”

I pulled myself back and looked her in the eyes with a smile on my face. “Come on in sis, I have so much to tell you and catch up on.”

I pretty much dragged her over the doorway and she just managed to push the door closed with her foot before getting pulled into the lounge.

We talked for hours about everything and nothing but neither of us mentioned the one thing we were both thinking about. The words we had spoken almost 2 years ago. The words I hadn’t stopped thinking about since.

It was after lunch that I decided to brave the subject, not knowing what response I would get so I kept it quite casual.

“Do you remember that time in the garden, when we said that stuff?”

She paused in what she was doing, waiting to see where I was going with it.

“I hadn’t thought about it for a long while,” I lied. “But then when you called up it reminded me of how funny it was. Do you remember?” Even though I tried to hide it, my voice had an uncertainty in it.

“D’you know, I hadn’t really thought about it. But now you mention it, I do remember. It was sunny, right?”

I knew instantly that she was lying, putting on a front.

I nodded my head, just looking at her.

“Yes, and you were giving me a massage or something?” She was speaking quickly and not covering up her emotions too well. She gave a poor attempt at a laugh. “God, yes, now I do remember, we said we loved each other. How crazy was that? We were so young back then.” She reached over to her water on the table and took a big sip and gulped it down.

Something came over me, some kind of force pushing me mentally forwards and I decided not to let it go.

“Yes, that’s what we said. Did you mean it?”

“Of course I love you, you’re my sister, but I didn’t mean it in that way,” she spoke quickly and then paused for a moment. “Why, did you?” She was looking me directly in the eyes this time, trying to feel for a response. Suddenly her whole face changed from a smile to something more, something deep.

I hadn’t even realized it but I was nodding my head in response. “I’ve really missed you, Lou.” I said as I could feel tears starting to well up in my eyes and quickly wiped them away with my hand.

Her whole tone changed after my reaction. “Did you really?” She questioned, moving herself closer to me on the sofa and placing her hand on my leg for comfort.

“I don’t know, honestly. At the time I did, but it’s crazy so I tried to forget about it. Forget about you.”

She put her arm around me and pulled me in close, her own barriers starting to break down as well.

“I think I meant those things I said too,” she was starting to cry as well and her grip on me increased. “But this is crazy. This can’t happen. It’s not real, it’s just some crazy emotional thing, right?” Her tone was hoping I would agree, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to deny it anymore.

“No, it’s not,” I said, breaking her hold and bringing my head to look at her. “It might be crazy, but it’s real. It’s not going to go away and I don’t think I can bear not seeing you again.”

The words were flowing out of me and I was speaking without thinking anymore.

“Did you really mean it too?” I moved my head closer to hers so we were just a few inches apart.

She waited a long while before moving forwards and resting her forehead on mine as she spoke. “I did. I meant every word. But what can we do? It’s wrong, it’s just wrong.”

She was crying quite heavily now, we both were and we stayed there for an unknown time, not wanting to move or go anywhere else. It seemed like forever but the feelings weren’t going away, I could resist no longer. I raised my head up a little so our lips were practically touching and then pressed them gently onto hers. I could taste her tears as they rolled down her face. She froze and didn’t react.

We held that position for a while, our lips touching and not wanting to move, but then she pressed a little further onto mine and began to kiss me fully. My sister was kissing me, I loved her, I couldn’t resist, so I started to kiss her back, pulling her body in closer to mine and embracing the feeling. But I started to shake, the emotion of the moment was getting the better of me and I had to break it off, I couldn’t take much more.

I sat back, wiped the tears from my face and then wiped hers away too. She managed to muster a half smile but I could see the sadness in her eyes. Neither of us knew where to go from here.

The situation transformed quickly from passion to awkwardness and I really didn’t know what to do, how to react

“I’m sorry, I don’t know how to take all this,” I said, getting up off the sofa. “I think I need some time, some space. I’m going to take a shower.” And with that I left the room and headed upstairs trying not to cry even more.

She watched me leave. I could feel her eyes on me, her sad eyes wondering why she’d opened herself up to me only to be rejected. But that wasn’t it. I wasn’t rejecting her at all, I wanted her so badly but some small ounce of willpower I had left was making me run away, trying to protect me from what might happen.

The morning became afternoon and then night and we didn’t really say much at all. We kept looking at each other, thinking about what to say but neither of us finding the words.

She was the first to speak after a long few hours of silence.

“I think I’m going to head to bed now. It’s so hot and I think we can both do with the rest.”

I nodded in agreement and watched her as she headed off up the stairs. I had set up the spare room for her next to mine and so I waited a good twenty minutes before heading up myself.

I did my normal bathroom routine and then walked down the corridor past her room. She had left the door open and I could see her lying on the bed, naked. She had her eyes closed and was perhaps already asleep.

I wasn’t sure what to do. Maybe she was naked because it was so hot, maybe she was naked because she wanted me to see her, to react to her invitation?

There was something inside me that just wanted to sleep but my heart wouldn’t let me, it wanted me to be honest with myself no matter what the outcome.

I headed off to my room to get undressed, but I never put on my pyjamas. My heart was taking over and pushing my head away. I walked back down the corridor, naked, nervous, not knowing what I was doing but acting on impulse rather than thought.

I walked slowly into her room and towards her bed, my hand reaching out for the sheets and lowering my body quietly down till I was lying alongside her.

When I looked at her again her eyes were fully open and I could see that she wasn’t sleeping at all.

We lay like that for a long while, neither of us speaking, neither of us knowing where this was going but not able to leave.

She looked beautiful. She looked incredible, lying there naked next to me and I knew I wouldn’t be able to stop things this time.

***

It started two years ago. The day my heart skipped a beat, the day the seed was sown and the day we said the words to each other that we haven’t been able to speak since…

The house was empty, everyone had left early to beat the traffic and it was nice to have the place to ourselves for once.

The sun was beating down outside making everything hot, sticky hot, that deep summer heat which makes you melt no matter how much shade you get.

I wandered into the conservatory carrying two glasses of ice cold water, the cubes clinking together on the side with every step. My foot pushed the door to the garden letting it swing wide open and I tried to get through before it caught me but, as usual I wasn’t quick enough and managed to spill some water onto my hand. The coolness of the liquid felt like heaven in the heat so I jerked the glass onto my other hand to balance out the sensations.

Louisa was laying on the sun lounger soaking up the heat. She had her bikini on, and it was the in-thing now to have an unmatched set, so in accordance with fashion her top was light blue and her bottoms pastel orange. The combination really shouldn’t have worked but somehow it did.

She had an amazing body and I was always jealous of how she looked. I think that’s just a sisterly thing though as she was always complimenting me on mine and saying how amazing I looked too. I guess you always see what you don’t have in someone else, but in fact we were actually very similar indeed.

She was 18 and I was 1 year older, almost to the day. She was the brunette to my blonde and we were both about the same height. Her breasts were 34C, same as mine and we actually looked very similar in body shape and fitness as we spent a lot of time doing the same things.

Over the years we had become so close and shared so many experiences, good and bad which had built up an emotional bond between us that was unbreakable.

“Leah,” my sister called out to me. She had turned her head and was looking over from the top of her sunglasses.

“Coming!” I shouted as I sped up my step trying not to spill any more water.

“I wondered where you were,” she said as I handed her one of the glasses. “I’m melting out here. Think I might have to strip everything off!”

She looked over at me again with a smile and laughed when she saw my reaction.

“Don’t fret,” she said, responding to my look of concern. “I won’t really. God, I think I’d be more worried than you!”

And with that she turned onto her front ready to catch some more sun.

I’m not sure why I felt embarrassed, I mean, why should I? We’ve shared so much and I’d seen her naked many times before, but we were younger then. Her body, in fact both our bodies had developed so much over the last couple of years and we had gone from being girls to women.

We were both getting more and more sexually active and each of us had the odd boyfriend here and there but neither had really enjoyed sex with them.

We’d talked about it many times in each other’s rooms, wondering if we were both doing it wrong or if it was maybe just from a lack of experience.

We joked on one occasion about the possibility of us both being lesbians, but decided we should give it a bit longer before we went down that road, laughing our heads off.

Recently though I had felt more awkward around her, not wanting her to see my naked body and getting strange feelings at the thought of seeing hers.

One night the other week, we even slept in our pajamas in the same bed after a long girly conversation and I remember having some strange feelings come over me that I’d never felt before. When we woke in the morning, I could sense she was feeling the same but we didn’t speak about it and let it go.

I guess I just hadn’t seen her naked for so long and was a little taken aback how incredible she looked.

My eyes glanced down to the side of her breasts which were now squashed against the fabric of the lounger and as I continued to look along the rest of her beautiful body laying there I found myself feeling strange, nervous and apprehensive. What was this feeling? I tried to ignore it and sat down next to her.

“Can you put some lotion on my back, hon?” She motioned her hand down towards some bottles under the bed.

“Sure, no problem.”

I bent down to pick up a bottle which she’d hidden in the shade and as I stood up she was adjusting her bikini bottom, shifting it around trying to get more comfortable.

She had an amazing ass and her cheeks looked so perfect as they gripped her bikini thong tightly. I found myself wanting to touch it, to feel it in my hands. What was this all about? Why was I feeling this way? My free hand drifted down to my own ass and I found myself caressing it, imagining it was my sister’s instead.

I gave a little shiver, unsure as to what I was feeling and blinked a couple of times to shake myself out of the moment. I managed to bring myself back and knelt down next to her squirting some lotion onto her back.

“Ooh, that feels nice,” she said as its coolness soothed her hot skin.

I started to rub it over her back in a circular motion, using both my hands to work it in. I had done a few courses on massage and while I am no expert, I knew enough to make it feel good when I put my mind to it.

Her skin was so silky smooth and I began to stroke it, wanting to touch her all over. These feelings…where were they coming from?

I moved my hands up to her shoulders and used my fingers to squeeze into her neck muscles to release some tension.

“Wow! That feels even better,” she purred as my skills were perhaps better than I remembered.

I swallowed a couple of times before speaking so she couldn’t hear the breathless excitement in my voice. “You’re a little tense, sis,” I said as I worked the lotion into her shoulders and neck.

“I know. I think it must be the heat. It’s tightening up my whole body.”

“Just try and relax, and I’ll give you a full massage,” I said as I repositioned myself midway down her body.

The thought of being able to touch Louisa all over was actually turning me on. This was crazy, this was my sister! Why was I feeling like this?

“Oh, would you?” She breathed out some tension in her words. “I so need it.”

I didn’t want her to hear how much I really wanted to, so I tried to sound a little more easy going, but secretly my heart began to race. “Sure, but then you owe me, okay?”

She nodded her head and shifted her position a little to get more comfortable.

I started where I had left off on her neck and shoulders. She was really tense and I spent a while working the muscles back and forth till they loosened a little. I was moving my hands slowly and really enjoying the moment, loving the feel of her skin and trying to contain my excitement.

My hands moved along the curve of her back, my fingers running down her side and admiring her wonderful flesh as I slowly worked down towards her ass.

Whenever I touched her somewhere new she responded with her body, showing her willingness and enjoyment of the feelings.

I removed my hands to put some more lotion on, and as I rubbed them together to warm up the liquid I could feel my heart trying to jump out of my body. I was almost out of breath with the sensations that were coming over me and the thought of touching and caressing my sister’s ass. These feelings were crazy but I didn’t want to think about where they were coming from, I just wanted to go with the moment and let it take me over.

I placed my hands gently down onto her ass spreading the new lotion all over. I tentatively moved her thong strap a little so I could work my hands behind it. Her cheeks were gripping it pretty tightly, so I had to run a finger just inside them to bring it out. The warmth of her inner flesh gave me a shiver and I could barely contain myself. I continued to rub the liquid into her muscles, pressing a little harder to really work them.

She let out a small moan as my fingers explored every curve of her ass, gently probing where perhaps they shouldn’t.

“Does that feel good?” I asked with a little stutter in my voice that I couldn’t hide.

“Mmmm, wonderful,” she whispered as she tensed up inadvertently.

“Relax!” I said gently as I felt her whole bottom lift off the lounger as she arched her back.

“I can’t help it,” she whispered, lowering it back down. “The way you’re touching me, it feels amazing.”

I waited for her body to relax again before I moved my hands to where the curve of her bottom, met the top of her legs and pressed underneath to work the inner muscles.

Her legs were beautifully toned and so shapely that I once again found the feelings taking over me. I spoke, this time without thinking.

“I just love your body Lou,” I said as I ran my hands down her inner thighs, caressing the back of her legs and onto her calves. “It looks amazing and feels so good to touch.” I continued and worked my hands onto her feet, stroking the underside arch and massaging her toes.

“Mmmm,” was all she said again, getting lost in the moment too.

“I love making you feel good.” My words were suggestive with real emotion behind them

“You can touch me like that forever,” she whispered in an almost dream-like state. “You’re giving me shivers.”

I could hear some emotion in her voice too now and there was something building between us, something powerful but perhaps unwanted.

I continued to stroke my hands up and down her body, exploring her every curve.

I’m not sure how much time passed, but it must have been a while as I could feel my own skin burning. I’d gotten so lost in massaging my sister that I had forgotten to put lotion on myself and was now paying the price.

I worked my hands back up towards her neck where I had started and finished up with a few more movements before lowering my head down to hers.

I had to take a deep breath to bring myself back to reality before I could even speak. “How did that feel?” I asked, but already knew the answer.

She turned her head to face me and reached a hand up to remove her shades.

“Wow! That was just incredible. You make me feel so good. You actually turned me…”

She stopped short of what she was about to say and let her voice trail off, unsure of what it meant. The closeness of our heads meant I could feel her breath on me as she spoke and there was something incredible coming over me, over us both. Something was there and neither of us knew what to do with it.

I put my hand onto her back, rolling it down her flesh and across her ass, lovingly caressing the curve of her cheeks before returning back up to her shoulder. The next words I spoke and the way I spoke them even shocked me.

“I really love you.”

She paused for a long while, not knowing how to take it, but never took her eyes off me for a second. She swallowed deeply before barely speaking the words herself.

“I love you too.”

The world stopped. Nothing around us mattered except this moment, the look in each other’s eyes, the emotion in our words. The rest of the world didn’t matter because it would never understand.

We stayed there staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, reliving the words we had just spoken.

My heart skipped a beat that very moment and the thought of what we had both just said and the meaning behind it became reality. I could tell she was feeling something different too, but neither of us could say a word. Our eyes were talking to each other, saying all we needed to hear.

This was a path neither of us had expected or even seen coming and one which we unconsciously decided to ignore.

We broke gaze after an unknown time and silently made our way back into the house to cool off, not speaking a word about what had just happened or what we had said.

Neither of us had spoken those words to each other since then, for fear of where it might lead.

That was, until tonight.

Continue to Part Two!

by Alexander Hall

{ This story was originally posted at Nifty in February 2015 }

I grew up basically normal. Despite the environment, I was raised in, I really was not the maladjusted youth many would expect of me.  Now the reason I say this is because of what my mother does for a living.

My mom is a stripper. She’s been one my whole life. She was one before I was born and at 37 she still works the stage. She had me one year after she started stripping. She went home with a guy she was dancing for and, despite being on the pill, I was conceived that night.

She had to take a break for a while once she started to show. Thankfully, she’d been very popular at the club she worked at, so they were happy with letting her take some time off. A year after I was born, and she’d lost the baby weight, she went right back. They welcomed her with open arms and apparently the news that Crystalline, her stage name, was coming back was a huge event. The only change was that she no longer went home with customers. She didn’t want another illegitimate child.

Now, there was a reason Mom was a popular act. She was drop-dead gorgeous. She was a brunette, with sharp blue eyes and a button nose. She had very full lips, and she was very trim. Still, her biggest grab was her big, heart-shaped butt and generous breasts. She usually brought home between 800 and 1100 dollars a night, so we were never hard up for money.

Mom was proud of being a stripper, and did not give a hoot in hell for the judgments of others. Many moms at school would slander her, but she never cared. It did hurt me some, socially, as people did not want to hang with the “Stripper’s Daughter,” but I took it in stride. I loved Mom, and what she did to survive was her choice. She could have gone to college, or something like that, but she enjoyed the stage and felt it was a good career for her.

I was intrigued often by her job, and for a few years I considered doing it myself, but Mom shot that down fast. She wanted me to go to college, and do more with myself. What she did was good for her, but not something she wanted for me. Now, I probably would have been a success at stripping. I was basically a slightly less endowed version of Mom; I was taller, my breasts were a cup size smaller and I was a blonde, but otherwise we looked much alike.

Now look, I’m not gay, not exactly. I like guys okay, but women and girls really get my motor purring. And for some reason my mother’s job always intrigued me. I always wanted to see what it looked like, watching Mom removing her clothes for other people’s enjoyment. I never really viewed my mother in a sexual way, but for some reason, I really wanted to watch her strip.

It wasn’t like I had some desire to just see her naked. I had seen that before. Being a successful stripper, she had built a practice room in our home so she could work on new material. A few times, I had entered the room while she was working on her routine, so I had often seen her topless. I had never seen her pussy though; she never took her panties off when practicing.

After a while, the craving to see my mother strut her stuff in the nude was becoming an obsession.

I finally got my chance to see her on my eighteenth birthday. Here’s how it happened, and what it led to.

Since we were never worried about money, I basically had everything I needed. Mom always found it hard to shop for me, so she often asked me what I wanted for Christmas or my birthday. Knowing this was coming, I thought this would be my chance to see if I could finally get my wish.

About a week before my birthday, Mom came into the kitchen for breakfast and asked me. “So sweetie, you have a big birthday coming up.” She smiled. “My little girl is finally an adult. So… is there anything really special you want for your birthday?”

I knew exactly what I wanted, but I was still nervous to say it. This was not something a normal girl asked her mom for. My heart was pounding, but I had to ask. The worst that could happen is that she’d say no. Yeah, she might get angry, but I had to do it.

I took a deep breath and swallowed, to calm my nerves. “Yeah, Mom, there is something I really want, but it’s not something you can buy.”

Mom looked confused. I looked her right in the eye as I prepared to bite the bullet.

“I know this is a strange request, especially because I’m your daughter, but I do have one thing I want for my birthday.” Mom was looking at me with open curiosity in her eyes. “I want you to strip for me, Mom. I want you to give me a show like you give your customers.”

Mom’s jaw dropped in shock. “Angelina, you want me, your mother, to strip for you?” I nodded. “I never would have expected this from you. Tell me something, why would you want that?”

I felt a little more at ease now. She didn’t say no, not yet, and she didn’t seem angry. “I’ve always been intrigued by your job, how you can so easily expose yourself to others. You remember how I once wanted to follow in your footsteps? I just want to see how you do it. I want to see you perform.”

She sat in silence for a bit, and it was tense. I was scared of her response. Then she spoke. “Well, baby, it’s an odd request, but I might be able to fulfill it. Give me some time to think, okay?”

I nodded. Oh, my GOD. It could happen, I might get to see my mother strip!

For the next week, I often caught her deep in thought. I knew she was pondering my request. I did not push her. I wanted Mom to do this of her own free will.

I woke up on my birthday a week later; still no answer. I hoped she’d say yes, but prepared myself for a refusal.

After dressing, I headed down to the kitchen for my birthday breakfast. Every year, she made me my favorite: a full course of pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage and home fries. Normally this would take too long for her to make, as she was always coming home as I was getting up and she’d be too tired to make such a meal. On my birthday, that was not the case. She always took that day and the day beforehand off.

She was smiling at me as she served me my food. As I ate, she finally spoke. “Angie, I have had a lot of time to think about your request.” I stopped eating at that moment, my heart again pounding. “I will admit, it’s a little odd, but after some thought, I decided that it’s not that big a deal. So yes, I’ll strip for you. Meet me in my practice room tonight.”

I nearly jumped for joy. I would finally see my Mom dance naked.

I barely remember the rest of that day. I was in a fog, anticipating the night. I went out with my friends and all, but I raced home later around eight.

When I got home, Mom was in her bedroom, getting ready. She told me to go to the practice room and wait for her there.

I went downstairs and headed for the room. It had been a guest room when she bought the house, but she converted it when she started making more money. The interior looked like a miniature strip club. In the center was a checkerboard tile floor with a stripper pole in the center of it. The ceiling was fitted with lights and speakers. There was another door on the other side of the room, hidden behind a curtain which also hid a small control board. A few feet from the “stage” was a red leather booth-like couch. It basically looked identical to the one at club where she worked.

The lights in the room were at full brightness. I walked to the seat and sat down, my heart starting to pound.

Five minutes later, I heard the other door open and close. I did not even know what she was wearing. My heart beat faster knowing my present was on the other side of that curtain, and then I heard the click of a switch from the control board.

The lights in her practice room were dimmed, and I heard the beginnings of her signature song list start. I knew these songs well, I heard them often when she began her practice routines. My heart began to pound as I heard a recording of her club’s DJ come through. “La-dies and gen-tle-men. Everyone’s favorite erotic dancer, Crystalline!” 

With that, Mom came out from the side and began her strut to the center of the stage. She was wearing her most popular outfit. The top was a semi-transparent button up blouse, matched with her denim booty shorts. It hid very little. I could see the bottoms of her ass cheeks and the deep valley of her cleavage. My heart jumped at seeing her in this. I did not see her eyes yet. Then she shot her head up and look me right in the eye as she grabbed the pole and began to swing around it, highlighting her start by blowing a kiss at me. This made my heart jump.

She stopped twirling about the pole after a few turns, stopping dead in front of it. Her back was to me as she began to grind her body against the pole as it rested between her breasts. As she gyrated, she thrust her ass at me. The sight of it in those tight shorts was so enticing that I practically began to hyperventilate. I wanted to reach out and touch her ass, fill my hands with it, but I held back. For now, I just wanted to enjoy the show.

I was starting to get turned on, my panties beginning to moisten. I was so engrossed in the view of Mom’s luscious backside that I was caught off guard when she suddenly twirled around and began to rub her butt against the pole. My eyes briefly met hers, and she just kept up that seductive smile.

In the periphery of my vision, I could see her breasts shaking and jiggling, and soon my eyes were drawn to them. Unconsciously, I licked my lips as I watched her tits bounce around. Mom’s top and bra were both very skimpy, and I could see that her nipples were very hard. I could feel an urge in the back of my mind, feeling myself wanting to lean forward and suck them.

She suddenly stopped grinding and her arms came down from above her head. She ran her hands down her body, over her tits, her sides and her hips, before returning to the first fastening of her top. She winked at me, smiling wickedly, before tearing it open. As it parted, her tits were thrust toward me as they continued to bounce. They fought their confinement in her white lace bra, straining to burst free.

There was an itch in my hands, and it intensified as I fought against reaching for Mom and taking her right then and there. I was so engrossed in Mom’s breasts that I did not even notice as she smoothly slid off her top and tossed it to one side. I licked my lips again, and I could feel my snatch beginning to moisten my panties.

God, she’s good. She hasn’t even touched me and she’s making me so fucking hot, I thought.

Mom turned away again, resuming her grinding and thrusting her ass at me. Then she began to ride the pole, climbing up its length and holding herself off of the floor. Holding the pole with her thighs and one hand, she looked at me again and slowly spun around the pole, sliding down until she was standing again, then her hands went to her hips.

I watched intently as she spun away from me and slid her shorts down her legs. I was greeted by the sight of her creamy ass, fully visible in her skimpy G-string. Mom worked the shorts to her ankles, all the while continuing to shake her luscious rump in my direction.

I was gasping in amazement as she once again gripped the pole, jumped onto it and spun around it and kicked off her shorts. I stared, more turned on than I’ve ever been as I viewed my mother in her skimpiest underwear. Despite the dark color of her G-string, I could see a wet spot forming on Mom’s crotch. My God — she was getting turned on by this!

She took one more turn, stopped again in front of the pole and then, a lustful look in her eyes, she began to walk toward me. My breath caught as she came closer.

I couldn’t help but moan when Mom wrapped both arms around me, encircling my neck. She said not a word, just continued to smile as she began to undulate against me.

My eyes widened in shock when she brought her lips to mine and kissed me. Our lips were crushed together for an instant before Mom’s tongue slipped into my mouth.

Jesus, Jesus — I could not believe that my mother was kissing me like a lover. I responded quickly, though, my tongue meeting and tangling with hers.

Mom continued to grind her body into mine as she Frenched me. Our breasts were pressed tightly together, teasing my nipples to aching stiffness while she worked her ass into my lap. Suddenly breaking our kiss, Mom raised herself up until my face was buried in her bra-encased tits. I could barely breathe, but didn’t really care all that much as she rubbed those gorgeous breasts against my face.

She drew away just enough for me to catch my breath, gasping heavily as she leaned back and reached behind to undo her bra. I watched in amazement as she removed one strap, then the other, slowly peeling the cups from her chest. I could not see much yet, because her long hair spilled over her nipples. I don’t know how she did that, but it somehow made her strip tease that much more enticing.

She leaned forward and kissed me briefly, with a quick flash of tongue, before she leaned back again. With a quick toss, she threw her hair back and let her bra drop to the floor, and then my mom’s breasts were bared for me.

It was an awesome sight, Her nipples were very hard, begging to be sucked, and I could feel my lips pulsing, wishing to answer their call.

Now topless, Mom again embraced and kissed me, grinding against me again.

Too soon for me, she broke our kiss and rose again. Her breasts were in my face once more, and she rubbed them against me, purposely brushing my lips with her nipples. She’d stop in the middle of each pass, and I soon got the message.

On her fifth pass and stop, I opened my lips and began to suck her hard nubbin. “Oooooh.” She mewed as I suckled. I felt a jolt shoot through my body as I took her nipple between my lips.

She quickly popped it out and moved her other tit to my mouth, and I sucked it too. I was very wet now. I could not believe that my own mother was getting me so hot. I didn’t want to stop suckling, but I had to as she pulled away and turned her back to me.

She began to moan as she ground her ass in my lap, back and forth over my crotch. As my mother continued her lap dance for me, I could now see she was going all out for this performance.

My vision was almost totally filled by her sensuous curves. I couldn’t take my eyes off her butt, even as she stopped grinding and seductively strolled back to the pole. My heart was beating fast, and my breathing was heavy. I could feel a deep itch in my pussy and hands, both were trembling with need. My hands and cunt both wanted to be filled.

I was entranced as I watched her again twirl about the pole. It was so hot to watch her work her pussy against the pole and slide it between her bare tits.

I was hoping to soon see her remove that last stitch of clothing. It was all that she wore now. Again she stopped in front of the pole, facing away from me, and put her hands to her hips as she continued to dance. I was focused on her wonderful butt as she continued to undulate it back and forth toward me, and as her ass jiggled, she began to slide that tiny G-string down off to reveal her ass.

My mouth watered as Mom’s bottom was bared to me, and the spread of her cheeks allowed me a small glance of her rosebud which, I could now see, she’d had bleached.

When the panties reached her knees, she turned her head to me again, blowing me another kiss. She looked away again when they reached her ankles. She shot up then, her ass and tits shaking as she did, and with a high kick of her left leg, she flicked the last garment away. Now, standing in front of me was my mother, completely naked. She stood erect against her pole, then turned to face me.

I gasped as I viewed her  body. For the first time, I saw her pussy bare, and it was fully shaven. I licked my lips as she again walked up to me, embracing me again as she sat in my lap. I did not even have time to blink as she once again kissed me, her tongue darting into my mouth.

I was very hot, I could feel sweat building all over me, and my panties were very sticky at this point. My mind was blank as I made out with my naked mother. The smooth skin of her back was making my fingers tingle, and I could feel her ass against my thighs. My hands again trembled, begging to be filled.

I could not resist any more, and my hands went straight to her bottom. She moaned into my mouth as I squeezed her ass while we continued to kiss. I did not want this kiss to end. I had never been this turned on. I could feel my face flush and my chest rise and fall rapidly. I was so out of it I didn’t even notice when she pulled away.

I was about to protest, but Mom silenced it when she turned around and leaned her head back to put her lips back to mine. She then grabbed my hands as we kissed and pressed them to her tits. They felt so good in my hands. I squeezed and kneaded those glorious mounds, then started to play with her nipples. I pulled them and pinched them, rolled them and flicked them.

She was moaning heavily into my mouth, and my nose caught a new scent. It was one unfamiliar, yet somehow known to me. It was my mother’s pussy. She was very turned on by this display for me. I could almost feel her juices wetting my jeans. I was very close now. I could not believe I was about to come from watching my mother strip.

I was disappointed again as she parted her lips from mine, then slid back onto the floor. She knelt before me, her legs spread and leaning back, stretching out and pushing out her chest. I gasped as all her charms were revealed to me. It was definitely the sexiest thing I had ever seen. Soon, she looked me in the eyes again, smiling wickedly and beckoning me with her finger. I reached out and pulled her back into my lap, and we resumed our kiss.

I suddenly felt a whoosh of air as she broke the kiss and stood above me, her legs spread. Her cunt was now in my face, and the smell of her pussy flooded my nostrils. I was shocked but pleased when she grabbed my head and ground her cunt in my face. I could tell what she was asking for, and I opened my mouth and put my tongue to her sex.

“Ooooh. Yesss,” She moaned as my tongue parted her lips. As soon as I tasted her, I came. I moaned hard into her snatch, continuing to lick. I had never imagined myself doing this, but at that moment, it felt right, and I found that I loved the taste of her womanly center.

“Mmmmm, that’s a good girl. Make Crystalline come, you pretty minx,” she said to me — talking to me as if I was a customer, not her daughter. She would not let my head go, and I worked my tongue deep into her and within a few minutes, Mom came in my mouth.

I gasped for breath as she stepped back, then sat in my lap again. Her lips went to mine again and for the next five minutes, we kissed as I felt her tits and ass. She told me later this is how she ended every private show like this.

I was very satisfied now. I had finally seen my mother’s act. I knew I was definitely not the first woman she’d done a private show for. Half, maybe more of her regular customers were women.

Breaking our kiss, I looked her in the eye, my hand still on her breast as she sat to my side on my lap. “Do you do that with every customer, Mom?” I asked her.

“No, honey… what I gave you is what I do only for very special customers. I normally charge three hundred dollars for that kind of performance.” I was shocked.

“So you gave me the VIP package? You didn’t have to do that.” I told her.

She just smiled at me. “I know Angie, but it’s your birthday, you deserve something special.” She smiled and kissed me one more time, before getting out of my lap. “Happy birthday, honey.” She said, before she went out the door and left the room, still naked. She made sure to tease me with a final sexy shake of her ass. I sat there for a few minutes, still reeling, before I got up and left the room.

Nothing like that ever happened again between Mom and me. My curiosity was sated. I’d finally seen my mother strip, and that was enough. She told me despite how unusual that night was, she did enjoy it.

Neither of us felt any shame afterward, but both of us felt it should remain a one-time thing. I’m fine with that, and I’m happy that despite what occurred that night, it did not change my relationship with Mom. We’re still pretty much the same mother and daughter we were before that night. We were probably just a little closer now than before.

The End

Author Unknown

Many years ago, a young woman gave birth to two beautiful daughters. For the first several years of the girls’ lives, they all lived happily in a cottage hidden deep in the woods. Their father, her husband, was nearly as handsome as she was beautiful. But one day he went into the woods to forage for food, and was struck down by another hunter’s arrow. The woman was left alone and raised her daughters the best she could.

The eldest daughter, Crimson, was named for the bright tuft of red hair that had topped her head the day she was born. It grew thick and curly as time passed, and when she was eighteen it hung in curls down her back, dancing teasingly across the curves of her buttocks.

Her sister, Ivory, was named for the beautiful white hair she’d been born with. To some it was a drawback, but to the woman and to her family it was just another unique feature of an already unique girl. Ivory’s hair was exactly the opposite of her sister’s. It was long, with no curls in the silken strands. Instead Ivory’s hair was long and straight. It flowed like silk falling through the fingers of a wealthy king.

A few months before the woman’s husband died, he had planted two beautiful rose bushes for his wife, and every year since they bloomed brilliant roses. One plant bore red flowers, the other white. The girls often played near the bushes and whenever they were in bloom they picked the best flowers for their mother in hopes of making her smile.

The sisters were very close to each other, and for the most part they were one and the same. Crimson was slightly more adventurous than her sister Ivory, but she did not openly seek trouble. It just sometimes found her. And while that trouble was finding her, Ivory was often back at the cottage taking care of their mother’s needs, or keeping the home clean and pleasant.

When the girls turned eighteen their mother had a small party for them. There were no guests to invite, for once her husband died, the woman had become a recluse of sorts. She rarely ventured out of the woods, choosing instead to live off the land, eating berries, nuts, and fruits that were hearty in number.

After a celebration of strawberry cake, apple cider and raspberry cookies, the two girls kissed their mother goodbye and promised to be back before dark. The mother did not ask questions of her daughters. She trusted them, as she trusted the forest.

Crimson and Ivory held hands as they walked through the woods, along paths that the animals frequented. Each step brought them closer to the meadow and the small pond in which they often swam and frolicked.

When they reached the water’s edge, the girls disrobed and ran into the water. They played and splashed, laughed and dunked each other. As time passed they slowed their play and began to talk of their lives and how lonely they felt. The conversation was not new, and in truth it had been played out many times.

“We cannot leave her,” Ivory whispered.

“I know,” Crimson said in a soft, quiet voice. “But I long for something more… and no matter how deep I go into the woods, I cannot find it.”

“I understand. I too wish to find what my heart is so desperately craving. Do you still find yourself thinking of how Mother and Father formed us?” Ivory asked.

Crimson blushed. “I think of it every day. I have seen many of the beasts of the woods mate, and I wonder if that is how Mother and Father mated.”

Ivory’s eyes grew wide. “Crimson, surely not!”

“Why ‘surely not’? We have seen many animals rutting, and the girl animals do not have dangling parts like the boys. And we are girls, mother says so.”

Ivory could only nod her head in agreement.

“And,” Crimson continued, “the boy animals mount the girls, they slide their dangling part into the folds of the female… and the sounds they make, though strange, are certainly unique to each breed. So why is it odd to think that man and woman might mate the same way?”

Ivory frowned and walked from the water. She lay down on the grassy shore and let the sun caress her alabaster skin. Her sister soon joined her and the two girls studied the clouds as they floated by. Eventually Ivory rolled over and studied her sister’s body. “What other things are similar between us and female animals of the woods?”

“If you would but go outside with me, you would already know this.”

“I know, but it is good for one of us to remain with Mother. I don’t mind — well, not too often.”

Crimson turned onto her side, and she too took a moment to look upon her sister’s naked flesh. “Well, for one, the girl animals have more than one of these,” Crimson reached out to touch her sister’s breasts. “And these points,” she trailed her fingers across Ivory’s pink nipples, “well, none of them have anything like ours,” she paused and gasped softly, “Oh my.”

“What?” her sister asked.

“Yours harden like mine, but when I touch yours, my body becomes warm. Much like when I caress my own.”

Ivory reached out and touched one of Crimson’s nipples. “Mine does as well. My womanhood feels tingly too. Does yours?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Crimson said. “That is another thing that is different. We have a soft patch of hair that covers our womanhood, while the females of the forest are almost bare. I think it is to keep themselves clean for their mating.”

“Perhaps we are not nearly as clean as we have thought,” Ivory whispered. She sat up and spread her legs, peered between them and studied her womanhood through the soft curls of hair. “I believe I am clean, though…”

“I am sure you are,” Crimson answered. She sat up and spread her sister’s legs even further apart. Her fingers brushed through the hairs, and the pads of her digits parted the smooth flesh of her sibling. “You look clean and smell beautiful, Ivory.” Crimson bent down and kissed her sister’s womanhood, then she sat up. “Yes, you are perfect.”

Ivory’s chest rose and fell as the girl gasped for breath, her eyes open wide.

“Are you unwell, sister?” Crimson asked.

“I don’t know. I feel… weak. Kiss me again, down there.”

Crimson shrugged her shoulders, but did as she was told. She bent her head and looked up at Ivory, while pressing her mouth to her sister’s nether lips. “Well?”

“That tingling has returned. Do it again, Crimson. It felt amazing.”

Crimson smiled. She loved making her sister happy, so she pressed her lips to her womanhood again and watched Ivory’s lips part in pleasure. “Do that to me,” she said, and sat back, spreading her legs and offering her sister the patch of red curls that covered her womanhood.

Ivory whimpered, not wanting to lose the feeling of her sister’s mouth against her sensitive flesh, but she did want Crimson to experience the same euphoric feeling that she’d just had. She bent down and placed her lips upon the same spot where her sister had kissed her. She chose to watch Crimson’s expression, to see how her sister responded.

When Crimson gasped, Ivory found herself pleased and her body warming. “You too are clean and smell beautiful. But sister, what of taste? What do you taste like?”

Crimson’s brows furrowed in confusion. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Tell me.”

Ivory nodded her head, and ran her tongue between the lips of her sister’s sensitive flesh. Crimson’s hips rolled forward and Ivory heard her sister whisper how wonderful it felt, so she did it again. Her tongue lapped at each side of the warm flesh, and when she pulled away she saw fluids ooze from her sister’s opening. “Amazing,” she cooed, before bending back down and licking again.

Her own womanhood was growing moist as she tasted her sister. Reaching down to touch the wetness, she brought it to her lips. Ivory tasted herself and moaned around her fingers. “Oh, Crimson, you must try me now,” she gasped.

“Yes, oh yes, Ivory. Climb over me. Put your womanhood against my mouth and I will taste you, while you do the same for me.”

“Oh, yes,” Ivory whispered. She moved over her sister, arranging herself so that each of them could learn the flavor of the other.

The two girls slowly began to lick at the nectar that was spilling from their slits. As they learned the tastes, each one began to explore. Ivory found a hard button at the top of her sister’s sensitive mound and began to tease it. Crimson squealed and when Ivory asked if she was all right, she breathlessly whispered that she was and begged her to continue.

Ivory giggled and wiggled her womanhood against her sister’s face. “Do that to me,” she insisted.

Crimson found the same little button and teased it with the tip of her tongue, then she gave it a soft tug with her teeth. “Oh, my,” Ivory gasped. “Wonderful. Again, please.”

The love the sisters shared was deep and pure, and as they experienced a bliss never before felt, their bond only strengthened. “There is a dark hole here,” Ivory whispered. She placed one finger inside and brushed her nail against it.

“Ivory!”

Startled, Ivory quickly withdrew her hand.

“No, don’t! Put it back!” Crimson demanded.

Ivory quickly pushed her finger back inside and began to rub the fleshy surface. Crimson found her sister’s hole, and did the same thing. They slowly pulled their fingers out and put them back in again. More juices flowed, and the girls were quick to drink them up. Their bodies began to press together more closely.

Eventually Ivory gasped, “Something is h-happening.”

“I know. I — I feel it too.”

“Should we stop?” Ivory asked. The tone of her voice spoke the fear she held in her sister’s answer.

“No, let us find out what this strangeness is.”

They continued to lick and push their fingers into each other. They both felt their muscles tighten and their hips were moving at a haphazard rhythm. “I am frightened,” Crimson whispered.

“So am I!”

But both girls continued to search for whatever it was they were so close to finding. “Put another finger inside me!” Crimson demanded, then did that same thing to her sister.. Again the girls gasped in shock and pleasure. They twisted their fingers in and out, going progressively faster with each stroke.

When Crimson screamed, a flood of clear liquid shot into Ivory’s face.

Ivory was shocked, but not disgusted. She pushed her face into her sister’s mound and drank more fluids as they rushed out. Her own pussy had also exploded and the feeling had left her speechless. She felt Crimson’s mouth cover the hole that her fingers had been exploring. She wondered if her sister was as wet as she… and if not, she hoped that next time she would be on the bottom, so she could drink most of Crimson’s fluids instead of wearing them.

Crimson held tight to her sister’s bottom, her lips sealed around the dark hole that continued to ooze the heavenly fluids from a depth that she ached to explore.

When Ivory was done moving her hips and rubbing her womanhood on her sister’s face, she rolled off Crimson’s body and onto her side.

The girls lay on their backs, their bodies trembling from the sensations that had just burned through them. Neither could speak, fearing that whatever joy they had just felt might suddenly disappear. The air around them grew cooler, and soon the chill of the early evening forced them to move.

They stood up together, and dressed, then they held hands on the way back to the cottage. Once there, before going inside, they kissed one another on the lips and pulled back, exchanging looks.

“Is that me?” Ivory asked. Her sister nodded, and they pressed their mouths together again.

“Open your mouth. I want to taste myself,” Crimson whispered. Ivory did as requested and felt her sister’s tongue slide between her lips. Ivory allowed her curiosity to claim her and so she too began to explore her sister’s mouth. The two girls let their tongues twist and dance around one another until they felt their bodies tingling again.

“Oh my,” Crimson whispered.

“I know,” her sister said. They pulled apart and stared at each other in wonder. “Do we tell Mother?” Ivory asked.

Crimson chewed on her lower lip. “I do not know.”

“I think we should. We have never kept secrets from her before. Why should we now?”

“You are right,” Crimson said.

The two girls headed into the cottage and found their mother preparing their evening meal. After they dined on fresh bread and vegetable soup, Crimson cleared her throat and looked at her sister. Ivory nodded her head and took a deep breath. “Mother?”

“Yes?”

“Today Crimson and I discovered something in the forest. But we are not sure what it is.”

“What did it look like?” their mother asked.

Crimson giggled. “It didn’t look like anything.”

“Well, it did for me. It was colorful. Bright red, orange, yellow, gold and even different shades of black. I did not know there were different shades of black,” Ivory confessed.

“Black? Gold? Red? I felt heat. Intense, unbelievable heat. I felt it in my toes. My fingers. My head. I have never felt so hot and I only wanted to grow hotter still.” Crimson waved her hand in front of her face. “It was very strange, but yet very close to heaven — that is if heaven is as lovely a place as you have described, Mother.”

Their mother studied her daughters, and for a moment the girls felt strange under her scrutiny. Then their mother spoke, “Did you discover these colors and discover this heat together, on each other? Or did you find them in the woods, alone? Or with someone else? A stranger?”

“With strangers?” Ivory asked. “Oh no, Mother. No one else was at the pond with us. We found these things on our own… and yes, it was together. I discovered mine when Crimson pushed her fingers into my opening, when she used her tongue on this little button between our legs that we both discovered.”

“And you, Crimson — you felt this heat when your sister did these things to you?”

“Yes, Mother. It was beautiful. What is it? What did we find?”

Their mother smiled, reached over and squeezed both their hands. “You, my darling innocent daughters, have discovered passion. It is something that is only achieved when two people truly love each other. You and your sister love each other very much.”

“Passion.” The word fell simultaneously from both girls’ lips. They reached under the table and held hands.

“Mother,” Crimson said, “we love you. Do you wish to feel this passion?”

The older woman rose to her feet, slowly unfastening her gown, then letting it drop to the floor. She was naked underneath. The girls gaped.

“Yes, my precious girls,” their mother whispered. “I want to love you in that same way.”

The End

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