Date: Wed, 27 Sep 2006 10:09:36 -0700 (PDT)
From: Amanda <mandagl@yahoo.com>
Subject: How My Daughter converted Me

	I was always very liberal with my daughter. I began
teaching her about life from a very young age and a
part of that teaching included her learning about sex
and sexuality. She had a gay uncle who spent a fair
amount of time at my home with his `girl' friend. Sam
was transgendered, but happy to remain half way
between male and female. Sam preferred to be
acknowledged as a female, and I did everything I could
to accommodate her. She had legally changed her name
from Samuel to Samantha, allowing her to retain the
nick name Sam. We explained what Sam was to my lovely
little girl, Christina. We also explained that
Michael, her uncle, preferred men to women and that
meant he was gay. Chris pretty much took it all in
then without a question or anything else asked to go
swimming at the community pool.
	Chris basically took everything at face value, to her
Sam was her aunt. They got on well, and I was happy to
let them spend time together when ever they wanted.
Sam's maternal instincts were in overdrive, I would
suspect from the hormones she was taking.
	My little girl was taught that people had the right
to make their own choices in life and no one had the
right to say they couldn't. I educated her to the best
of my ability in all things from drugs to smoking to
sex. I wanted her to be ready to face the world, and
to always know that I was right there to help her
through anything she needed me for.
	So three days after her twelfth birthday when she
came to me and said she was gay I was more relieved
than anything. Relieved because she trusted me with
it, and I knew that I could support her through
whatever hardships she might face as she grew up.
	Like any mother I suppose my first instinct was to
deny what she'd told me, but I knew better. Mike had
told me he'd always known he was gay. He'd known since
before he understood anything else. I knew
homosexuality was genetic, so I just assumed it must
run in our family. It made me wonder how many of my
relatives from the past might have been gay. That
brought about a few weeks of learning about long dead
grand parents, grand uncles etc... There were a
couple, a great aunt who died in the seventies, and a
great grandfather that had died in the fifties. Both
had been married. Both had also been quite odd
according to what I was able to deduce based on what
my mother and aunt had told me. The great aunt had a
female friend that had lived in the same house as she
and her husband throughout most of their lives. Right
up until she died, leaving my great aunt alone, having
already been widowed by my great uncle.
	My Great Grandfather took solitary trips to fire
island. That was all I needed to hear to suspect his
fluctuating sexuality. The other clue was that he had
exactly one child, my Grandmother. This during a time
when birth control was rarely used, and catholic men
were expected to father many children.
	I however was not gay... I didn't think so anyway.
Mostly I was asexual at best. I had been with Chris'
father for six months and we'd only had sex three
times. The third being the charm. He left me when he
found out I was pregnant, and that was fine since I
was perfectly secure in my ability to raise a child on
my own. During the nine months I was pregnant I went
to school. After having Chris I got a job as an office
assistant and went to school for computer networking.
Now I pulled down eighty thousand a year keeping a
small company connected to all it's customers and
employees. In the time since Chris' birth I'd not met
a man I felt drawn to. I'd basically felt no sexual
desire at all. I simply wanted to raise my daughter
and play with my computers.
	Now all this is not to say I had not masturbated. I
had from time to time. But I wasn't very sexual at
all.
	Three weeks after coming out to me my daughter called
me in to the bath room. "Teach me how to shave my legs
mom." She said looking up at me from the tub. It was
strange seeing her in the bath since she most often
took a shower.
	"Aren't you a little young? I mean you really only
need to do that if your leg hair shows and yours is
still blonde."
	I looked down at my little girl, five pounds over
weight and cute as she could be with her chubby little
cheeks. But then I found myself looking at her legs. I
was tracing their lines from her ankle to her thigh. I
glanced between her legs to see that there was as yet
no visible hair.
	I tore my eyes away a little surprised at myself. I
looked in to her face to see her smiling at me. "But
mine aren't smooth like yours." She whined.
	`And they don't need to be till you have a
girlfriend.' I thought to myself. I wanted her to stay
my little girl, such a typical parent thing I suppose.
But she could not stay a child forever. I decided that
since she felt the time was right, I would go with it
until I had reason not to. "Okay." I finally agreed. I
opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink and got her
a fresh razor. This I handed to my little girl. "Okay.
Get the shaving cream there and put some in your hand,
then rub it on your legs."
	"No you." She said, giggling. She handed the can of
shaving cream to me. I remember wondering what the
difference was as I took the can and expressed some of
it's contents in to my hand. I took her leg and
beginning with the ankle smoothed the cream up to her
knee. I could not help but glance between her legs to
see that she did have a small patch of blonde hair
growing there. It was clearly visible now that I was
closer. "All the way up mom!" She demanded. I wrinkled
my forehead but continued smearing the cream up her
thigh. I stopped short of the fold where her leg met
her hip.
	I took the razor from my daughter. "Now pay attention
or you'll cut yourself." I pulled the razor along her
leg carefully. "See, keep the blade from moving the
long way or you'll cut yourself."
	I handed the razor back to her and watched as she
finished the leg. She handed me the can of shaving
cream again and bent her other leg up. "Now this one."
I did as she asked, sitting back and letting her shave
her other leg on her own. When she was finished she
rubbed her legs and smiled happily. "Smooth." She
giggle. She reached out of the tub and grabbed my
hand, rubbing it on her lower leg. "See." She said
with a smile. I smiled back. She had such soft skin
and it felt quite nice freshly shaved. I noticed that
her hand was still holding mine against her leg and
she was slowly moving it up toward her thigh.
	At the time I didn't think much of it and simply
pulled my hand away, seeing a bit of disappointment in
her eyes, though again, I thought nothing of it.
	It was not until later that night as I lay in bed
that I found out how much my daughter's shaving lesson
had affected me. I could not sleep and tossed for
quite some time before realizing that the distraction
which kept me awake was my libido. I was excited.
	Annoyed, somewhat, I rolled on my back and slid my
hand between my legs. I would get this over with
quickly. As a rule my libido was more of distraction
than anything else.
	As I lay rubbing my clit, feeling the familiar build
of an orgasm, I found my thoughts turning to how
smooth my little girl's leg had felt. How soft her
skin was. I found myself wondering if the little patch
of hair between her legs was softer than my own.
Wondering what would have happened if I had not pulled
my hand from my daughter's grip.
	I came. Hard. Harder than I can ever remember coming
before. I rolled on my side and closed my eyes. I was
ashamed. I'd brought myself to orgasm while
fantasizing about my little girl. I couldn't believe
what I'd done. The shame of it was almost unbearable.
	Another thought occurred to me. I wondered if my
little girl had known what she was doing. She had
always been a precocious child. It could have been
possible that she was testing out her sexuality on me.
Of course at the time I didn't believe that, it seemed
far to outlandish to even consider seriously. No I
turned it all in on myself. I felt there must be
something wrong with me, that I was broken.
	The next day I awoke, hardly remembering the night
before. I showered and went to work like any other
day. When I got home that night around six I found
Chris had cooked dinner. She had it set out on the
dinning room table with the lights low and candles
burning away. I set my briefcase down and joined her
at the table.
	"So what this brought this on?" I asked as she
scooped mac and cheese on to my plate. She then served
me lima beans and mashed potatoes. To her, this must
be a feast fit for a Queen. This meal served by my
little girl was exactly that in my own mind I suppose.

	"I love you. So I made you dinner." She served
herself and sat down at the table, digging in right
away.
	"How was school today?"
	"Dumb." She said with a mouth full of potatoes.
"Fiona and I got in trouble for talking in math
class."
	"Yeah? Well you know your not suppose to do that."
	"Well it doesn't matter I only had to stay after for
fifteen minutes." She served herself more potatoes. "I
don't have any homework, I got it all done before you
got home." She said, sounding a bit proud. I would
still check it but I rarely had to have her redo
anything, so for the most part it sounded like we
would have the night together.
	"How was work mom? Oh it was fine, you know,
computers broke, I fixed them." I said after a long
silence. Chris looked a little embarrassed that she
had not asked me about my day. She had obviously tried
to make dinner perfect. "It's okay hun." I told her,
trying to relieve some of the guilt. "But just
remember, you should ask how some one's day is, even
if you don't care. It's just polite." She nodded her
head.
	We talked quite a bit while we ate. I asked her if
she and Fiona, a friend she had developed since coming
out to me, was her girlfriend. She told me that she
had a crush on some one else, but no matter how much I
probed, she would not tell me who.
	We spent the night watching television. I held my
little girl close, like I so often did while we sat on
the couch. I was really enjoying holding her when the
shame of the previous night reemerged. Almost
involuntarily I pulled away from Chris but she held
tight and tried to pull me back. "What's wrong?" I
heard her little voice.
	"Nothing sweetie, I was just going to get something
to drink."
	The trip to the kitchen and back gave me time to
clear my head so that when I got back to the couch I
was able to cuddle up with my daughter without feeling
dirty. We went to bed a little earlier than normal
that night. And again I found myself tossing and
turning, though this time from guilt and not sexual
excitement.
	I woke up ready to face the day. It was Friday, an
easy day to face as a rule. I went to work starting to
feel better about the fantasy I'd had about my little
girl. It was just random thoughts during masturbation
and I should let it go as such.
	Around three Chris called to tell me she was going to
stay with her friend Fiona until I got home. I told
her to make sure to be home when I got there and hung
up.
	I made it through the day and headed home. I pulled
in to the drive and got out of the car, lugging my
briefcase with me. I opened the front door to Chris'
smiling face. She immediately took my briefcase and
handed me a glass of club soda. "Can we go out to
dinner tonight?" She asked me right away.
	I pushed in to the house and sat down. After a sip of
my soda I looked up at her. "Thanks sweetie, umm where
did you want to go?"
	"Banana's" She said. She loved that restaurant. It
was a nice place on the south side of Boulder. I
agreed and after finishing my club soda led her out to
the car.
	We didn't talk much as we drove the ten minutes to
Banana's. Personally I was just dreaming about the
weekend. I had things I had to do, but a few things I
wanted to do.
	We were led to our seat and the hostess took our
drink order. "She's pretty." Chris said as the woman
walked away.
	"You like black girls?"
	"Fiona is black." She told me. I honestly didn't
know. I'd never met the girl.
	"I thought you said that you liked some one else." I
said, teasing her.
	"Yeah, but at first I liked Fiona, that's how we got
to be friends." She confessed. "They have cute butts."
She giggled.
	"Christina!" I laughed. "Well... I suppose they do."
I admitted.
	We talked about such silly things right up until our
food was brought to the table. "I did my homework at
Fiona's." Chris told me. Her tone told me that she was
lying, but she had the whole weekend to get it done so
I let it go. I did find myself wondering though what
it was that she'd done at Fiona's that she didn't want
me to know about.
	When we got home I went to my office to check on the
new server we'd just installed at the office. While I
was working on that, Chris turned on the television
and began searching through the channels.
	When I finished checking out the new server I joined
my daughter in the living room. "I thought you were
going to ask to spend the night with your friend when
you called me today." I said, half paying attention to
the show.
	"I thought about having a sleep over here... But I
wanna have it with you." Chris looked up and smiled.
	"With me?" I asked, a bit surprised. "I'm an old lady
though."
	"Yeah but your my best friend."
	`Yeah but?' I thought to myself. "So you think I'm
old huh?" I teased.
	"NO!" She laughed. "Your not old... just older than
me." Chris began giggling. "Grandma's old." She told
me.
	"So what then, I'm suppose to sleep on the floor in
your room?" I asked. There was no way that'd happen,
but I was teasing her.
	"No, I'll sleep in your room."
	"There isn't room on the floor." I told her.
	"I knooow Mom, jeez I'll sleep in your bed like I do
at Anna's when I stay with her."
	That raised some questions in my mind. My daughter's
recent coming out made me wonder what she might have
been doing on her sleep overs. I dismissed it though.
I remembered being a curious young girl at her age and
the things my friends and I did. Gay or straight I am
sure she was experimenting with her girl friends.
	"Okay I guess we can have a sleep over." I finally
told her.
	Chris wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on the
cheek. "I'm gonna go change." She jumped up and ran to
her room. A few minutes later she came back wearing a
tee shirt she'd stolen from me. She climbed up on the
couch folding her bare legs under herself and letting
the shirt ride up slightly. I could not help but look,
seeing that she was wearing a pair of pink cotton
panties.
	We watched television for a while longer before Chris
became impatient and dragged me off to my room. I
changed in to my own extra long tee shirt. I didn't
bother going in the bathroom. I'd never been ashamed
of my body in front of her, and it had translated in
to her not being ashamed of hers.
	I turned off the light and laid down in bed. Chris
was already under the covers. She kissed me on the
cheek and rolled on her side, turning her back to me.
I laid there staring up at the ceiling feeling her
warmth next to me, and I have to admit it was quite
nice.
	Before long Chris turned on her other side and draped
her arm over my belly. I wrapped my arm around her and
stroked her back absently while I lay there enjoying
the closeness I shared with her.
	Chris' little hand on my belly distracted me and I
faltered stroking her. I looked down at my little
girl, just barely able to make out her form in the
darkness. I sighed and returned my attention to my
thoughts. It felt nice being stroked this way.
	As I felt her hand moving slowly down my belly I
tensed. My clit tingled, and I suddenly felt very
uncomfortable. I had never felt uncomfortable with
Chris before but something about this made me nervous.
	I suppose she had been building her courage. Chris
began tugging at my shirt until my panties were
exposed and she could slip her hand under my shirt to
rub the bare skin of my belly. Uncomfortable does not
cover what I felt then. My mouth went dry. I swallowed
hard and tried to deny the building sexual excitement
I was feeling.
	`Stop her!"  I screamed in my mind when I felt her
pinky slip under the waist band of my underwear. It
felt so good though. Being touched like this. I felt
like I was being seduced, slowly, gently. I had to
admit I loved it, but it was wrong and I had to stop
her.
	I couldn't stop her. No matter how much I wanted to I
couldn't say anything. My curiosity had the better of
me and I had to see where it was that my little girl
was going with all of this.
	I thought she might have been working her way down to
my sex. I half expected her hand to rub over my pubic
hair. It did not. In a sudden movement she reached up
and cupped her hand around my breast. My blood ran
cold and I gasped, "what are you doing?"
	She stopped and moved her hand away. `No wait, don't
stop.' I plead silently.
	"I love you mom." She whispered. her hand moved
slowly around my belly button. I was breathing quick
and shallow. The nipple of the breast she had cradled
in her little hand was so hard it pushed against my
shirt uncomfortably.
	Slowly, Chris slid her hand back up my chest and
wrapped her fingers around my breast. I trembled with
the shame of it, feeling tears welling up in my eyes,
but no matter how wrong it was I could not stop my
daughter from continuing this seduction.
	"Little girls aren't suppose to touch their moms this
way." I finally said with a trembling voice.
	"Why not?" Her question was sincere.
	"For one thing I could get in to trouble. But it's
just wrong, I'm your mom."
	"I won't tell. I thought your first time was suppose
to be some one you loved. I love you more than any one
else, so I want it to be with you." She said, not
pulling her hand away this time.
	I was trying to move my arm to push her hand away but
I could not. Instead I found myself reaching down and
cupping her butt with my hand. I wasn't just letting
her do this, now I was participating in it.
	Chris pushed closer to me, reaching across my chest
and stroking my other breast. She ran her fingers over
my nipples hardening them much to my embarrassment.
	For all of the shame though I was not stopping her.
For as much as I knew this just had to be wrong, I
could not stop her. I slipped my hand under her shirt
and stroked her bottom, now only separated from her by
a thin layer of cotton.
	Chris sighed and pushed hard against my side. She
moved her hand from my breast and down my belly until
it rested on my panties just above my mound. My sex
was aching now. for as much as I hated myself for it,
I wanted her to touch me.
	As she pressed against me I felt her rocking. Feeling
my little girl masturbating against my body sent a
sudden shock of excitement through me. I found myself
tensing, pressing my hip in to her crotch with each
thrust of her hips.
	"Baby. don't make me do this." I whispered.
	"You want to stop?" She asked, sounding desperate.
	I swallowed hard and looked at her for a long time.
So long that she moved her hand away. Tears streamed
down my face. "No, I don't"  I said, just above a
whisper.
	No sooner than the words left my lips than her hand
was beck under my tee shirt and she was pushing it
under the waist band of my panties. Her hand moved
across my pubic hair and she folded her fingers around
my mound.
	I had not been touched by another person in years.
But I don't remember ever being this hot. I don't
remember any touch feeling so electric as hers did.
There was something about my little girl holding my
sex that drove my desires like no one else ever could
have. Her fingers spread around my clit and she closed
them back together as she slid them in to my hole.
	Was I gay? Was this what I'd always wanted? A woman?
But she wasn't a woman. She was my daughter, a child.
A girl who was yet so young she did not even need a
training bra. Could that have been it? Was it because
she was a little girl?
	Too many questions, when all I wanted was to feel
more of her touch.
	My head cleared a little when I felt her tugging at
my panties. Instinctively I lifted up so she could
pull them off. She sat up and suddenly felt too far
from me as she pulled my underwear off and tossed them
over me, to the floor. Chris did not hesitate to pull
her own underwear off and toss them next to mine.
	She crawled on to me. She seemed to know what she was
doing, she was nearly skilled in this art of seduction
but how I wondered. How could a twelve year old girl
know how to seduce some one, not to mention her own
mother.
	Chris leaned in and pressed her lips against mine.
She reached in to my mouth with her small tongue and I
closed my eyes, sinking in to the kiss. God it was
erotica feeling her small body on my own. Feeling her
thin little lips against mine.
	She reached down and pulled at my shirt, tugging it
up until I had to move to get it off. I then pulled
her shirt off, wishing I could see her nakedness. I
reached out and stroked her chest, playing with her
nipples. I was too shocked by what was going on to be
much of a lover, not that I was skilled any way, I
simply did not have the practice. But I tried to touch
her the way I liked to be touched. I ran my hands down
her sides and around her hips to hold her bottom as
she straddled my waist.
	"Mommy..." Chris said. she was about to confess
something that she thought would make me mad, that was
the only time she called me mommy. "Don't be mad, but
I didn't do homework at Fiona's. She let me practice
what I'd do on her. She told me what felt good and how
to do stuff. She knows about sex stuff."
	"Did you now?" I asked. She had practiced this. I
wondered how long she'd been planning this. Had she
been building me up to it. Then the shaving occurred
to me. Had that been a part of this plan? Did she have
me help her shave her legs to plant some kind of seed?
	"Your not mad are you?" She asked me quite sincerely.
	"Of course not." I wrapped my arms around my little
girl and held her close, comforting her.
	Finally she sat back up and began absently rubbing my
breasts. I was on fire for my daughter, hardly able to
believe what it was that I was doing. Chris laid down
and pushed herself between my legs. She hesitated only
for a minute before leaning in and surrounding my clit
with her little lips. I gasped, hardly able to believe
the expert attention she was able to give to my sex.
Where had she learned all of this? She suckled me,
lapped at me and finally slid three of her fingers
inside me causing me to moan loudly.
	I writhed on the bed. I ached for her touch. Each
plunge of her fingers sent waves through me. Finally
in a single burst of orgasm I arched my back and
screamed, pulling her closer, yearning for more of her
hands and mouth.
	When it subsided I lay on the bed breathing deeply,
my head spun slightly and my skin tingled. I wanted to
give my little girl this sensation, I wanted to make
her feel what I'd felt.
	Slowly I got up and eased the child on to her back
where I began planting little kisses up and down her
body. I was unsure. I'd never done any such thing. I
had wondered about it, like any one else would, but
never had I even thought for a moment that if I was
with another female would it be my twelve year old
daughter.
	I am sure I was far more nervous than my little girl.
Slowly I worked my way along her body and down between
her legs. I positioned myself so that I could cover
her swollen sex with my mouth.
	I sucked her clit in to my mouth and ran my tongue
across it. Chris moaned and twitched with each lick. I
slid my pinky in to her body and began moving it in
and out to the rhythm of my lapping.
	My daughter was breathing hard, clutching the
blankets, my shoulders, my hair. She had lifted her
legs slightly making it easier for me to reach her
vulva. I moved faster, adding more pressure with my
tongue. Chris was moaning and gasping and finally she
slammed her hands and feet to the bed, pushing her sex
hard toward my face. "Oh!" She cried out. "Mom!"
	My little girl relaxed to the bed once her orgasm had
subsided. I crawled up to lay next to her, wrapping my
arms around her and pulling her tight. I loved my
little girl so deeply, I wanted to just hold her like
this forever.
	"My first time was with the prettiest girl in the
world." She whispered.
	"When you practiced with Fiona?"
	"That didn't count it was just practice. You're my
first."
	I closed my eyes and let myself drift at the edge of
sleep. I thought I should feel ashamed but I did not.
I felt nothing but my love for my daughter. I had
never thought of myself as gay, and certainly never as
a pedophile. Yet this seemed so right to me. Whatever
my little girl had originally set out to do I don't
really know. What I do know is that the experience
changed me. Perhaps I'm not gay, I don't really feel
an attraction to any women, but I feel an attraction
to my little girl. This adventure has caused me to
redefine myself a bit. I may or may not be a pedophile
or a lesbian, but I am in love with my daughter and
that was all I really needed to understand.