Date: Tue, 25 Mar 2014 14:31:08 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tony Williams <tonywill9999@yahoo.com>
Subject: A Sex Offender, my Daughter and Me

A Sex Offender, My Daughter and Me


by Tony Williams



At last, I've found a potential tenant.

I live in one half of a duplex and rent out the other half. It just covers
the mortgage nicely. She contacted me on Craig's List and she's on her way
over. Via email she told me she's twenty three, single and slightly
desperate.

When the doorbell rings, I open it to see a petite, elfin like girl with
short blond hair and vivid blue eyes. She introduces herself as
Leslie. "I'm Toni," I say shaking her hand. Her grip is firm, a good
sign. I hate wet-fish handshakes. I show her the apartment, just one
bedroom, living room, kitchen and bath. "We share the deck," I tell her as
she looks over the edge to where the ground drops sharply down to the
wooded canyon below. San Diego is full of green canyons, most with walking
trails. Back in my own apartment, we sit at my kitchen table and I tell her
how much the rent is.

"Not a problem. I'm getting a fat alimony check from my ex on the first of
each month."

"I'll need references."

"That might be difficult." Uh, oh, I think, here we go, another dead
beat. She takes a breath. "I might as well tell you because you're gonna
find out anyway. I just got out of prison."

There's always something. "How long were you in for?"

"Two years. There's worse. I'm on a sexual offenders list." My eyebrows go
up. What kind of sexual offense could a twenty three year old girl be
convicted of? "That's why I'm so desperate. No one wants to rent to me."

I pause. I need to know more, just to protect myself. "What were you in
for?"

She takes a breath. "Lewd and lascivious conduct with a minor."

I grin. "For a minute there, I thought it might be something serious." She
gives me a weak smile. "Boy or girl?" I ask.

"Girl."

"Under age, huh? How much under age?"

"Seven years."

"You mean she was seven years old?"

"No. Eighteen minus seven is eleven. She was eleven."

The same age as my little girl, I think to myself. The age I was when I had
my first sexual encounter with an older woman.

"One last question. Was the 'conduct' consensual?"

"Consensual?" she laughs. "She couldn't get enough of me. She was head over
heels in love." Most people would conclude that her claim was merely
justification for illegal conduct, but knowing my own history, I was
inclined to believe her. "I loved her too. She was devastated when they
arrested me."

"Okay. Here's what's gonna happen. Before I agree to take you on as a
tenant, you're gonna have to tell me everything that occurred between you
and . . .what was her name?"

"Abbi."

" . . .Abbi. I want to know how you met her, what attracted you to her, and
vice versa, who seduced whom and all the naughty things you got up to." I
sit back and wait. This is gonna be fun.

_______________________________________________________________________

Let me digress for a moment. I'm a single mom, divorced with a daughter,
Becky. She and I are very close, more like sisters than mom and
daughter. As far as I know, we have no secrets from each other. She's fully
aware that my interest in men evaporated when my short marriage turned bad
and that now I'm totally gay. When my girlfriends stay over, she keeps out
of the way, letting me get on with business and doesn't poke her nose into
my intimate affairs. Her sex education, derived from several excellent
books from the library, augmented by personal stories from me, is
complete. She knows all there is to know about every aspect of human
sexuality, lacking only the hands on experience. I don't think that'll be
long in coming.

She's also acutely aware of her own sexuality and the effect she has on
others, especially adult men, to whom she brazenly displays her panties at
every opportunity. My brother and my boss have both have trouble concealing
their lust when they visit, ogling her as she sits with her legs wide
apart. One of her favorite habits is to stand on the deck, one leg raised
with her foot on the lower rail, and let the hikers on the trail below look
up her skirt. The distance is a bit extreme, but most nature lovers have
keen eyesight. She seems to have inherited her exhibitionist behaviour from
me, as I was exactly the same at her age, having learned the effect a quick
flash of panties has on men, boys and, yes, women.

Of course, I'd never do anything inappropriate to my little girl. The
incest taboo is too strong. If I were to touch her in a sexual way, she
might freak out. It would ruin our relationship and could inflict
psychological damage. But in those deeply private moments in bed, late at
night, when my fingers stroke my pussy lips and circle my clit, mental
pictures of her sprawled with her legs spread, or dressed in nothing more
than her sexy little white cotton schoolgirl panties, or lying naked in the
tub, my wet pussy becomes even wetter and before I can wrench my thoughts
away, my orgasm has swept over me, leaving me ashamed and guilty. I'm not
about to say, "Oh, by the way, last night I was masturbating to a vision of
you getting undressed and I came like a bullet." So now that I think about
it I suppose I do actually have a secret from her. I could never reveal to
her that her naughty little performances do affect me, but I'll never
critisize her for showing off her panties. It would be the pot calling the
kettle black. You wanna look up my skirt? Be my guest.

____________________________________________________

"I was a teacher at an elementary school," says Leslie, "the perfect job,
you might think, for a woman who is sexually attracted to little girls. I
coached the swim team and yes, I did enjoy the sight of all those darling
little preteens running around in their swimsuits, and they were mostly
young enough to be unselfconcious about being seen when they were changing
in or out of their swim suits. Abbi, although pre-pubescent, was incredibly
sexy, with her slender figure and eyes you could drown in. She knew I was
paying special attention to her and one afternoon, when most of the kids
had left the pool, I was in my cubicle in the changing room. I'd left the
door open as usual. If the girls wanna see me changing, then so much the
better. I'd taken off my swimsuit and was toweling off when I saw Abbi
standing in the passageway between the cubicles. She was staring at my
naked body. I smiled and slowly pulled my panties on, then my tank top and
finally my denim mini-skirt. She stepped into the opposite cubicle, leaving
her own door open and peeled off her swim suit. We looked at each other as
she dried herself, and some sort of spark passed between us. Naked, she was
utterly adorable, her skin perfect, her chest flat, her hips narrow like a
little boy. She radiated innocence, with an undercurrent of sexuality like
. . ."

"I know what you mean," I interupt.

Her eyebrows go up. "You do? Anyway, I just stood there, unable to tear my
eyes away. There was no one else in the changing room. She smiled at me
coquettishly as she pulled her white cotton panties on. It was like a
strip-tease in reverse. She pulled on her cami, then her dress and sat on
the little bench with her legs up to put her socks on, giving me . . ."

". . .an upskirt?" I chuckle. "I can't resist an upskirt."

"Yeah. Anyway, long story short, I gave her a lift home. She invited me in,
saying her Mom wouldn't be home for a couple of hours. We kissed. We
hugged. We went into her bedroom and lay on her bed in each other's
arms. She told me she was head over heels in love with me. I told her how
adorable she was, that we were going to spend a lot of time together and
she must never tell anyone about it. Just before I left, I lifted her dress
and planted a kiss on the front of her panties, just to let her know what
was in store for her. Over the next few weeks, our behaviour became more
and more intimate. She worshipped my body just as much as I worshipped
hers. Then it all blew up."

"What happened?"

"Her Mom came home unexpectedly and caught us naked on her bed, our faces
buried between each other's legs. That evening I was arrested. The cops
interrogated Abbi, and promised her that nothing would happen to me if she
told them everything. Of course she fell for their lies and spilled the
beans. I had no choice but to cop a plea to avoid a long sentence. They
wouldn't let her contact me but she did manage to sneak one phone call to
tell me that she was heartbroken and wanted to kill herself. Her family
moved to the East coast and I have no way to contact her."

"Fuckin' cops!" I sneer. "Not content with ruining your life, they have to
ruin hers. That poor kid, it's tragic."

"So here I am, a convicted sex offender."

"An unemployed sex offender."

She pulls out a sheaf of papers. "These are my recent bank statements." I
look at her balance. I wish I had that much money. "Two years of alimony
without me spending anything doesn't hurt," she says.

"Write me a check for the first month and a deposit, Leslie." A big grin
breaks out on her face as I stand and move around the table. I hold out my
arms and she falls into them, her face buried in my neck.

"Thank you so much. You're the first person to be nice to me in months."

"I don't think you're a bad person. Law enforcement is the villain in this
story. Welcome to my home. Where's your stuff?"

"In storage. I'll have to rent a truck."

"We'll use mine. Let's go."

__________________________________________________________

By mid-afternoon, she's all moved in. She didn't have much stuff. The
apartment is furnished so it was just a matter of hauling a few boxes and
garbage bags full of clothes. We go out on to the deck and sit looking at
the view, each with a can of beer.

"The neighbors are all too far away for anyone to see us," I tell her, "so
sometimes I'm out here getting an all-over tan." She smiles at me. "Even if
they could see," I continue, "I wouldn't care."

"You have a nice figure," she says. "You work out?"

"Now and again. You're not in bad shape yourself." She wearing what might
have been the same outfit that she'd worn at the swimming pool, a white
men's singlet and a delightfully short denim skirt. Her legs are long and
slender, but rather pale. Some California sunshine will improve her. Now
that I have a chance to take a real hard look at Leslie, I can see how a
young girl could fall for her. I could easily fall myself. She has that
gamine, "street urchin" look, like a tomboy, but still effeminate. I like
my partners to be feminine, no butch dykes for me, thank you. But I don't
want to get carried away by her. It wouldn't be easy to accept rent from
someone I'm fucking. For the moment, I'd better keep her at arm's length.

"I have a surprise for you," I announce. Her eyebrows go up. "I have a
daughter. Her name is Becky and she'll be home from school in a few
minutes. She's eleven."

Her eyes go big. "Are you sure I'm the right tenant for you, given my
record?"

"You have a record of loving a young girl and being loved in return. If
what you told me is true and you haven't left anything out, then Becky and
I have nothing to fear. You didn't do anything to hurt Abbi. It was law
enforcement that did all the damage."

She lets out a sigh. "You know, you're the first person to tell me
that. Even my lawyer disapproved of me. Thank you, Toni, and let me assure
you that I'd never, never do anything that would cause Becky the slightest
embarrassment. You can put your mind at rest."

"I believe you," I say, leaning into her and giving her a hug. The chances
of her embarrassing my little girl are pretty remote, given how precocious
my daughter is. Did I mention that she doesn't even blush when my brother
and my boss and lots of other men look up her skirt? In fact she enjoys the
attention, just as I did at that age. She knows how to say "no". She told
me that both of them have tried to feel her up, running their hands up her
dress (not at the same time, mind), and fondling her panties, and she
simply asked them to stop and moved away. That's all it takes. I don't know
why so many parents freak out when their kids receive a friendly pat on the
butt or a loving hug from an adult. It happened to me all the time and I
loved the attention. I even had a few incidents where men pulled out their
hard cocks and asked me to touch them, but in each case I gracefully
declined and went on my way, flattered but not otherwise interested, and
certainly not freaked out by it. A cock is just a cock.

On the other hand, when I developed a crush on the woman who ran a local
flower shop, her caresses and touches were eagerly received and
reciprocated. If she hadn't risked kissing me that first day, and fondling
me intimately, I would've missed out on a truly enriching experience, one
of the great loves of my life. She taught me the joys of gay sex, how
exciting it was to be intimately touched and how much more exciting it was
to arouse her. One might argue that she turned me gay, but that's
bullshit. I was more than ready for her, young as I was. The only person
who actually perverted me was my husband, who enticed me into being
straight for a few years, long enough for me to produce Becky, but as soon
as I was free of him, I bounced back into my default mode, namely a
lesbian. I love being gay, and I hope my daughter turns out the same. Men
are the pits.

I hear Becky come in. "We're out here," I call. She steps through the
sliding glass door on to the deck.

"Oh, hello," she says, surprised that I'm not alone.

"This is our new tenant. Leslie, meet the love of my life, my Becky."

Leslie's eyes light up as they shake hands. "Oh, you're adorable," she
breathes, and if I'm not mistaken, I detect a slight blush on Becky's
cheeks. It's been a long time since I've seen that! Leslie runs her gaze up
and down my girl who's wearing her school summer uniform, a somewhat short,
pale blue gingham dress which buttons all the way down the front, the last
one carelessly left undone. It's immediately obvious to me that Leslie's
stunned by the vision standing in front of her. I'm not surprised, given
her story. I decide to give her a treat.

"Come and sit on my knee, Sweetheart," I say. A reasonable enough
suggestion as there are only two chairs on the deck, both occupied. She
sits on my lap with her back to me, and leans against my chest, her calves
dangling either side of my thighs. I put my arm round her waist,
"inadvertently" rucking her dress up, exposing her upper thighs. Then I
spread my own legs which causes Beckys thighs to widen almost as far as
they can go. I see Leslie's face flush as she is offered a magnificent view
of not only Becky's white cotton panties, but my own, too. A double
upskirt. None of my girl friends have been treated to such a vision. One
day I'm going to repeat this performance in front of a mirror to see what
it really looks like, but Leslie is clearly excited by it. My own pulse
begins to quicken with the excitement of showing my panties, and the even
more thrilling idea of deliberately displaying my daughter.

There follows a conversation about school and stuff which I won't bore you
with, but it enables Leslie to pour on the charm and flatter my daughter
outrageously. Pretty soon they're laughing and joking like a couple of old
friends. Leslie knows exactly what an eleven year old girl wants to hear
and lays it on thick.

"What kind of music do you like?" my daughter asks.

"I haven't heard much music lately. I've been away."

"Where?"

Leslie hesitates. "You don't have to tell her," I interject.

"Better that she hears it from me than someone else. I've been in prison."

"What for?"

"I was a teacher, and I was with one of my students in her house when her
mom came home unexpectedly and caught us."

"Caught you? Doing what . . .?" She lets out a little giggle. "Oh, I know,
you were having sex?" Even though Becky has her back to me, I can tell from
her voice that she's grinning. "How cool! If they put you in jail, she must
have been underage."

"She was," says Leslie.

"How old?" Leslie looks at me as if to ask 'should I tell her?'

"She was your age, darling," I say. "They were in love with each other, so
there's nothing wrong with that, but the girl's mom didn't see it that
way."

"What happened to the girl?" asks Becky.

"It broke her heart," says Leslie. "They moved away and I couldn't contact
her. It broke my heart too."

"Oh, the poor girl," says Becky. "It must have been terrible."

"Have you ever been in love, Becky?" asks Leslie. My daugher looks at me.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," I reassure her.

"It's okay, I can tell you. I had a huge crush on one of our neighbors last
year. I was head over heels with her. I never told her."

"You should have," says Leslie. "She might have loved you back."

"She wasn't gay," I say. "Pity, 'cos if she had been, I'd have made a pass
at her myself. She was pretty hot stuff."

"Mom!" says Becky, disapprovingly.

"You're getting heavy, Princess," I say. "Do you wanna change out of your
uniform?" She swings one leg across and stands, smoothing her dress down.

"I like your uniform," says Leslie.

"Only because you can look up it," replies Becky, smiling.

"Don't you ever look up skirts?"

Becky giggles. "Course I do, don't I, Mom?"

"Every chance you get, but not as often as you flash your panties. Let's
face it, you and me both, we're exhibitionists." She starts to unbutton her
dress, from the bottom up, slowly, one button at a time, then spreads the
dress wide open for Leslie to look at her, then turns, letting it slide off
her shoulders. For a few seconds, she stands there, wearing nothing more
than her panties, white ankle socks and sandals as we drink in the heavenly
vision. Then, looking back at us, she walks in through the glass door, her
hips swaying invitingly, the dress trailing behind her.

"Oh, my God!" breathes Leslie. "I think I'm falling in love."

"She sure knows how to get a girl excited," I say, my voice gentle. "If she
weren't my own daughter, my panties would be wet."

"If you knew what I'm thinking, you'd send me back to jail."

"No I wouldn't. Not unless you do something she isn't ready for. She knows
how to keep a secret and you have nothing to fear from her, or me. Just
remember that "no" means "no", and try not to break her heart."

"Thank you for being so understanding, Toni."

"I want you to feel welcome, part of the family, as it were. Go unpack your
stuff, then come over for dinner, about six, okay?"

We stand and hug briefly. I'd love to kiss her and caress her cute little
titties, but I have other things on my mind.

______________________________________________________

The doorbell rings. It's the UPS guy with a package for Becky. I sign for
it and close the door and she comes out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped
round her naked body.

"This is for you," I say, handing her the package.

"Oh, cool. It's some underwear I ordered on the internet."

"Using my credit card, I imagine."

"Yes, but you're gonna think it's worth it." She walks into the bedroom
saying over her shoulder, "Don't come in. I wanna surprise you."

Like the other half of the duplex, this is a one bedroom apartment. Becky
has always had the option of sleeping on the living room couch, but she
opts to sleep in the big bed with me. Each night I lie there, dying to
touch her, but afraid to, and when the tension becomes too much and I have
to masturbate, I have to be very quiet and careful. On a few occasions she
might have been awake and guessed what I was doing, but she's never said
anything. Mostly I take care of myself during the day when she's in school.

I'm sitting on the couch when she comes out. My jaw drops. What would you
get if you crossed an angel with a slut? She's wearing a tiny see-through
bra, just a couple of triangles of whispy material and some thin
straps. Below, there's a lacey white garter belt which holds up her white
stockings. They have lace round the tops. But best of all are the panties,
again just a couple of triangles of sheer white see-through nylon. The
front panel is split from top to bottom, held closed by a little ribbon
tied in a bow. I can just see her little girl's slit like a vertical smile,
partially concealed. She stands in front of me, her arms wide open, her
hips swaying from side to side to some imagined music.

"Fuck me, Becky! You look so sexy! I could just eat you."

"Do you like the panties? Can you see my muffin?"

"I love them! Step closer." I pull the panties slightly to one side so that
her vagina is visible through the whispy nylon. I run my hands up the
outside of her thighs, over her hips and her ribs, my thumbs rubbing her
nipples. Then I put my arms round her and pull her close to me, so that
she's standing between my thighs. I put my cheek against her stomach and
squeeze her tight. Then I let her go and put the tips of my fingers between
her legs and slide them up over her muffin, back down and up agains once
more. I resist the urge to tug on the bow. This is more than just an
accidental touch - it's a deliberate sexual caress. I half expect her to
pull away from me, but she doesn't. I look up at her. "Leslie's gonna love
these."

"Do you think she likes me?" she asks, hope sounding strong in her voice.

"Oh, yes, she likes you alright. She likes you a lot. I could see it in her
eyes. You're gonna be able to twist her round your little finger." She
smiles. "She's coming over at six to eat. Let's make it an underwear
party."

""Perfect! She wears white panties like mine. I could see them when we were
out on the deck." I can see the excitement on her face. My little girl
seems to be having another crush. "What are you gonna wear, Mom?"

"The white tap pants with the matching camisole." These are panties that
look like jogging shorts, with loose, lace trimmed legs, and are almost as
see-through as Becky's new panties. If I sit carelessly, you can see my
pussy up the leg. The top will show off my nipples perfectly.

I go into the bathroom, strip off and shower. As I'm toweling off, Becky
comes in, pulls her almost non-existant panties down, sits on the toilet
and pees. I like looking at her when she pees, running all sorts of pee
play scenarios through my head, imagining that she's peeing on my face, or
me on hers. I run my hand over my mound, feeling the beginning of
stubble. "I need to shave," I say and gather up the necessary equipment. I
sit on the edge of the tub, my legs splayed and spray shaving foam all over
my pussy. Becky pulls her panties up and says,"Let me do it." I'm
astonished and delighted. She's never done this before. She drops to her
knees between my thighs and picks up the razor. I lean back and she
carefully shaves me, protecting my lips and my clit with the fingers of her
other hand. Then she takes my towel and wipes the last traces of foam
off. Then she runs her palm over my mound, checking for smoothness, her
fingers lingering on my pussy lips.

"Perfect," she says, smiling up at me. "Like a baby's bottom."

Sleeping in the same bed as my daughter is going to become more of a battle
against temptation from now on. There's a line that's been crossed. I
should feel guilty, but then perhaps not. Nothing has really happened, just
a couple of intimate caresses between mother and daughter.

____________________________________________________

Just before six, Leslie comes in from the deck, dressed as before. Becky is
in the bedroom. Leslie looks at me and her eyes go bright. "Nice undies,"
she says. "You look hot!"

"We're having an underwear party. You're gonna have to take that skirt
off."

"No problem," she says, eagerly. It drops to the floor to reveal a pair of
men's white briefs.

"Leave the singlet on," I say. "It makes you look like a teenage boy."

"That's the image I was trying for. Where's Becky?"

Just at that moment, she comes out of the bedroom. Leslie lets out a
gasp. "Oh, my God! You look gorgeous!"

"Am I sexy?" asks Becky. It's a rhetorical question.

"Sexy? Sexy doesn't even begin to describe you. You could drive a girl
crazy."

Beacky glances downwards at herself. "Can you see my muffin?"

"Not quite. The bow's hiding it."

Becky smiles. "Why are you wearing men's underpants?"

"To attract little girls. To sweep them off their feet and make them fall
in love with me." Becky laughs.

"And big girls, too," I say. Leslie's almost flat chest and her short
spikey hair suggests a certain boyishness without detracting from her
essential femininity. It's a delicate balance, nicely done.

____________________________________________________

We've almost finished eating, a spicy chicken curry with rice, when Leslie
manages to drop a forkful on to her briefs.

"Shit!" she says, "that's gonna stain."

"Give them to me," I say, rising to my feet. "I'll put them in to soak."
Leslie stands and pulls the briefs off and hand them to me. Her tank top
doesn't quite come down far enough and we can see her pussy, shaved like my
own. Becky stares at her. I go into the kitchen and put the briefs in a
bowl of cold water. Then I collect the dishes as the girls settle down on
the couch, Leslie sitting at one end and Beckie lying along its length, her
head in Leslie's lap. I take the dishes into the kitchen and as I put them
in the sink, I hear Becky saying somthing about having shaved my pussy
earlier in the evening.

I hurry back to the living room in time to hear Leslie say, "Next time I
shave mine, you can help me if you like." I lift Becky's legs so I can sit
down, and lower them across my thighs. Here we are, two horny lesbians at
either end with a preteen angel between them. I start to stroke Becky's
legs, all the way up to the tops of her thighs, my fingers touching the
edge of her panties. Leslie caresses her chest, gently pinching her nipples
and stroking her stomach, right down to the top of her panties. Becky
sighs, contentedly.

"It's time to open the present," I say.

"What present?" asks Leslie.

"The one lying between us. Who gets to untie the bow?" Becky
giggles. Leslie and I both eye each other. I know each of us desperately
wants to be the one.

"You can see my muffin any time you want, Mom," says Becky. "I think Leslie
should open the present."

"I agree. She's our guest, after all. Go ahead, Leslie. Untie the bow."

She gently tugs on it, very slowly pulling the ribbon open, then with her
fingertips, parts the two sides of the front panel, exposing my little
girl's vagina. Becky parts her thighs slightly, as if to signal an
invitation. Although her cunt is perfectly familiar to me, the fact that
she's allowed Leslie to expose it sends a quick thrill running through
me. We both stare at the treasure in front of our eyes. Becky has a huge
smile on her face. The aroma of sex fills the room.

"You can touch it if you like," she murmurs, though to whom is not clear. I
look at Leslie and nod my head. Becky draws in a sharp breath as gentle
fingers touch her pussy lips, moving slowly up and down. She lifts one knee
and lets it fall sideways, leaving her thighs wide apart, then she rolls
her head sideways so that her nose is against Leslie's stomach, and inhales
deeply. "You smell just like my Mom when she plays with herself in bed."

"I hoped you hadn't noticed," I said.

"You guys sleep in the same bed?" asks Leslie, incredulously.

"Sure," says Becky. "Haven't you ever noticed me, Mom, playing with my
muffin at night?"

"Now we don't have to pretend," I say. "We can do it together if you like."

"Okay," says Beck, as though it were no big deal. Leslie looks at me as
though I've just announced that I'd won the lottery. Becky inhales
again. "I love this smell," she says. Leslie pulls out the lower edge of
her singlet and stretches it over Becky's head. "Enjoy it, then," she says
and we smile at each other. My heart is pounding as Leslie's fingers
continue to do their magic on my daughter. I have the exquisite pleasure of
seeing my little girl being aroused without the guilt that an act of incest
would engender. I pull one leg of my tap pants aside and put the fingers of
one hand on my pussy. I'm soaking wet.

"You Mom is playing with herself," whispers Leslie, lifting the singlet and
Becky lifts her head and looks at me, smiling.

It's all too much for me, seeing my darling's cunt being lovingly touched,
the heady perfume of sex, the talk of masturbation. I hear myself groan and
my hips lift against the pressure of my fingers on my clit and I feel my
orgasm build and then break over me like a wave. For several long seconds,
I'm frozen there, then slowly the thrill subsides and I collapse back on
the couch, letting out a huge sigh.

"Did you cum?" asks Leslie.

"I did."

"Cool!" says Becky.

"I'm close to cumming, myself," says Leslie.

"You're not even touching yourself," says Becky, puzzled.

"I don't have to touch myself to cum. All I have to do is think about a
little girl like you, dressed in sexy undies, letting herself be touched
and it's enough to do the trick. I think I'm falling for you, Becky." I
imagine that my daughter is blushing, but as her face and upper chest are
already flushed, I can't tell.

This is my daugher's moment. There's no going back now. She's about to be
seduced by an older women. Or is it the other way round? Either way, it's
going to happen and I don't want to be in the way. As I picture what I hope
will happen in the next few hours, my heart races with excitement and
although I long with all my heart to be present to watch my little girl
lose her innocence, I have to steel myself and walk away and leave them to
it. I lift Becky's legs, swing them on to the floor and stand up.

"Leslie, why don't you show Becky to your apartment? It's not school day
tomorrow so you can sleep in."

Before I can change my mind, I stand and go into the kitchen, rinse out
Leslie's briefs and pop them in the dryer. Then I go into the bedroom,
shutting the door firmly behind me.

______________________________________________

I don't get much sleep. All night long I'm thinking about what must be
happening to my daughter on the other side of the wall. With my fingers
thrust deep inside my pussy, a host of different scenarios run through my
mind and with each new one I cum. I lose count of how many orgams I
achieve. Finally, at about four a.m. I drift off, exhausted. I'm awakened
by the sound of the front door closing. Daylight is streaming in through
the window. During the night, the top sheet was pushed off and I'd removed
my tap pants so I'm lying there in just the flimsy cami, bunched up under
my tits. Becky comes into the bedroom, dressed in the white stockings and
Leslie's cotton singlet, nothing else. It's way too big for her.

"Oh, Mom, I'm in love!" she cries, throwing herself on to the bed beside
me. I put my arms round her. "And she loves me, too. I'm so happy."

"Tell me what happened," I say, my heart beginning to race.

"It smells of sex in here."

"That's because I've been thinking about you all night, about what you and
Leslie must have been doing."

"Were you masturbating, Mom?"

"Yes. Most of the night."

She smiles and looks away and says, as if to herself, "My Mom masturbating
over me. How cool is that?"

"Tell me. I can't wait to hear what you guys did."

"As soon as we got in the apartment she took me in her arms and kissed me,
a real french kiss, with her tongue deep in my mouth until I felt dizzy
with joy. Then she undressed me, taking my panties off first, then the bra,
then the garter belt, but she asked me to leave the stockings on. She ran
her hands all over my body."

"Did she finger your muffin?" I'm picturing it in my mind and my own pussy
is getting wet again.

"Fingers, tongue, her vibrator, she couldn't get enough of me. She even
licked my butt hole. She was driving me crazy. But the best thing was when
she let me nibble on her tits and lick her muffin. I just wanted to crawl
inside her and curl up and spend the rest of my life there. I made her cum,
Mom, over and over again. It was fabulous. Now I'm a lesbian, just like
you."

"I'm so happy for you, my darling."

"And then, when we woke up, we did it all over again and you'll never guess
what." She's gabbling with excitement, the words tumbling out. "I had three
fingers inside her and she told me to put in a fourth, and then my thumb
and she let me push my whole hand inside her, right inside, up to my
wrist. She said it didn't hurt. Afterwards, we were in the shower together
and she was on her knees, with her face between my legs and she asked me to
pee on her. Isn't that funny? She seemed to like it. She even said that my
pee tasted like champagne."

"Lots of girls like to be peed on. I like it myself. It's so intimate."

"And we soaped each other all over and then I asked her if I could lick her
butt hole. It was fun, but muffins are better. I'm getting excited just
from remembering it."

I put my hand down between her legs and slide the tip of a finger into her
pussy. She's wet, not as wet as I am, but clearly excited. She doesn't pull
back. I kiss her gently on the mouth and feel her lips part. I gently probe
with my tongue and her arms tighten around me. After a few seconds, I pull
away and look into her eyes.

"I'm so happy for you, my darling. I have to confess that for a long time
I've wanted to do all those things that Leslie and you did together, but I
always thought that you'd reject me, or that if you didn't, I would feel so
guilty afterwards. Moms are not supposed to do intimate things with their
daughters." I push my finger deeper into her and she lets out a sigh.

"You wouldn't have to feel guilty, Mom. I wouldn't ever tell anyone. It
would just be your way of letting me know that you love me. You do still
love me, don't you?"

"More than ever, my sweet angel."

I feel her hand go down between my own legs and I part my thighs to let her
know how welcome she is. Her fingers play with my lips and my clit and I'm
so wet I can feel my juice running down my thigh. Her face is flushed, her
eyes bright.

"You're so wet!" she breathes. "Can I lick you. I wanna see if you taste as
nice as Leslie." She swings her body round and straddles my face, and as
she lowers herself to my waiting mouth, I feel her lips on my cunt and her
tongue on my clit. I'm adrift in a sea of happiness. I put my arms round
her waist and pull her down on to me, furiously tonguing her. I want to
make her cum, but then my own orgasm explodes again and I lift her slightly
so I can breathe. Then her body shudders and she collapses on me, gasping
for breath.

"You made me cum, Mom," she whispers.

"I came too, my darling."

______________________________________________________

We're in the shower, hugging, kissing, soaping each other's bodies,
giggling like a couple of little girls, when she drops to her knees, and
looks up at me.

"Pee on me, Mom. I wanna see what it's like." She closes her eyes.

I part my pussy lips with my fingers and let my bladder go. A first, I aim
at her body, spashing her undeveloped tits, then lean back so it hits her
smiling face. She puts her hands on my butt and pulls me close, then her
mouth clamps on my pussy and my pee is going right in. When I'm empty, she
leans back, looking up at me and swallows. "Mmmm," she says, "not quite
champagne, but not bad. You wanna drink mine?"

_______________________________________________________

After breakfast, Becky finds a clean pair of her regular white panties, and
I retrieve Leslie's briefs from the drier and put them on. We look at
ourselves in the mirror, our arms around each other's shoulders. "You look
sexy, Mom."

"And you look adorable, as always. Let's go see Leslie."

As we step from the deck into her apartement, she comes out of the bedroom,
totally naked. The sight of her lovely boyish body sets my pulse
racing. She smiles at us. "I see you're wearing my briefs. You look good in
them."

"If you want them back, you're gonna have to come and take them off me."
She steps up to me and pushes me so that fall back on to the couch.

"Stand behind her, Becky and hold her arms."

I lie there, restrained by my own daughter as Leslie kneels between my legs
and slowly tugs the briefs off.

"Yes, yes," breathes Becky as my pussy comes into view. "Yes, yes. Do it,
Leslie. Do it to her, like I did it to you. Put your hand inside her! Oh,
my God! Yes, yes! Push it in, yeah, all the way. Fuck her with your fist!
Oh, this is so fuckin' cool!" I look up at my little girl and the
excitement on her face makes a wave of excitement run through my whole body
and I'm right on the edge of yet another orgasm. Becky releases my wrists
and comes round to the front of the couch. "Let me do it. Please Leslie,
let me do it."


The End


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