Date: Mon, 7 Dec 2015 13:16:15 +0000 (UTC)
From: Leslie Carr <lcarr69@yahoo.co.uk>
Subject: Perfume

				  Perfume

			       By Androgyne

Early summer and it's just getting dusk. Since late afternoon the cloud
cover has rolled in and things have become very humid. I'm stretched out on
the larger of the two sofas in my rear lounge wondering why British houses
don't have air conditioning. Oh I know really big expensive homes do but in
the USA even small apartments seem to have it installed. I've had to settle
for opening a window that looks out onto my back garden.

I wipe my damp neck and the valley of my breasts with a facecloth and ease
myself higher on the cushions. I'm indulging two of my minor
weaknesses. One is the glass of the "Rivaner" chilled white wine I've just
taken a swallow from. It's a tangy wine with a strong taste of limes and
doesn't' leave your mouth clogged and sticky like some sweet varieties do.

My second failing is the books I like to read when alone. I'm re-reading
one of my collection of vintage pulp lesbian novels. I first stumbled
across them at a car boot sale. This guy had four paperbacks tied together
with a hank of tatty ribbon. The top one, the cover of which I could read,
was titled "Karen Steele Lesbian Nurse"! Turning the small bundle I read
the other three titles from their spines. I would also be buying "Prison
Dykes" along with "Strange Love" and "Lesbian Afternoons "!

"How much?" I asked and he told me £2 so I offered him a pound and we
settled for £1.50. The books had been well read and were a bit faded but
fuck me they were so bad they were terrific! The cover art was amazingly
corny, but at the same time so sexy, and the stories! Oh my I loved those
stories where gay women were "In the grip of twisted passions" or "Living
the lavender love of Lesbos" and even "Swimming in the dark waters of
forbidden desires"!

I began haunting the car boot sales and the few surviving second hand
shops. I found you could buy these books online. Though they had become
pretty expensive since their heyday; when obscure print houses with names
like "Gateway" books or "Unicorn Paperbacks" sold for 75 cents American
money. I've got a fairly large stash of them now but with them being mainly
slim volumes they don't take up a lot of space.

The one I'm reading now is titled "Maid for Pleasure" and like all my
others the cover is wild. It shows a petite woman with very short gold hair
sprawled on a bed. She is wearing lace trimmed panties and a transparent
robe that is open anyway. Despite her delicate features and slender body
her melon shaped breasts are spectacular and her nipples can just be seen
in the shadows.

She's openly ogling an elegant brunette in a French Maid's outfit. The
maid's skirt is so short you can see the top of her stockings and the
suspenders holding them up. Out of curiosity I checked out their hairstyles
online and it is called the "Poodle cut" or was way back when. The blurb on
the cover reads.>>

"When Magda Bentine hired Yvette as her new housemaid she soon learnt that
the young beauty would serve her every need and desire!"

The book's only around 180 pages and I'm around half way and reading.>>

"Yvette pushed Magda back onto the tumble of pillows and the dark head
burrowed between the blonde's smooth thighs. Magda gasped and clutched at
those short curls!"

I don't care how flowery the writing is it's getting to me as always. I'm
wearing just a pair of cotton panties; washed so many times they're as soft
as silk and feel fine on my skin. Other than my panties I've got on a man
style denim shirt with the three top buttons undone; to allow the slightest
hint of any breeze from my garden to cool my sweating neck and breasts.

Now the author, "Helen Swift", has written.>>

"As Yvette's skilled tongue searches deeply Magda feels tiny flickers of
electricity and fiery darts burning inside her!"

Popping two more buttons free I lick a thumb and forefinger, slip my hand
inside my shirt, and then tweak and tease my nipples. They harden fast to
come erect and grow both long and thick. Leaving my nipples I slip my hand
inside my panties to touch my now damp pussy. A couple of strokes and I'm
beginning to hum softly in the back of my throat and right then my start
has to finish.

I can hear my front gate squeal as it opens, I suppose I'd better oil it
soon, and then clang as it shuts. I shove the book under the sofa cushion
and reluctantly pull my fingers away from my sex. I've just time to swing
my legs around and sit up when the front door opens and shuts and my
daughter scuttles past the lounge door. I come out of the pre sex tingles
fast.

"Darla Fletcher you come in here right now!"

She comes down the stairs a damn sight slower than she was galloping up
them. She sort of shuffles into the doorway trying hard to look nonchalant
and poses; leaning against the door jamb.

"S'up mum?"

Darla is truly a 12 year old image of me, her mum, as I was way back in the
day. Recently the puppy fat has dropped off her and in truth she has a body
many a young woman would envy. However the clothes she's wearing show an
awful lot of that developing figure.

"What's up? What's up Darla? You've been out dressed like that?"

She's wearing a pair of blue shorts, maybe smaller than the panties I've
got on, and a skimpy black top that is stretched tight across those plump
young breasts. She's not wearing a bra under it either! She's also donned
stockings, in black and blue hoops, that reach up above her knees to her
lower thighs. I've never even seen the black high heeled sandals she's
wearing before today.

"Mum ALL the girls are dressing like this. It's the "in look" this summer!"

I slap the sofa cushion next to my thigh with my palm.

"Come and sit here Darla and we'll talk!"

Darla's my only child. The daughter of Sukie Fletcher and the long runaway
and unmissed Jason Price. I had Darla late, not wildly late, but I'm 45 now
so 33 when she was born. I am thankfully though still in pretty good
shape. That's down to my gym work and a few other keep fit not fat
pastimes. In truth I look a lot like "Magda" on the cover of the paperback
except I'm generally more buxom and with red hair not gold like hers.

Part of the resemblance is down to my hairstyle. A while back I dropped
into "Curlies" the hairdresser's a block from my home; with a photo I'd
printed out of a "Poodle cut" for Marcy the stylist to do for me. She was
doubtful at first but when she finished she stood there looking at me with
her hands on her hips.

"Jeeze Sukie you were bang on! That just suits you so much and it'll be so
easy to keep neat and tidy."

 I was right and she was right so I've stuck with it. With a hint of mutiny
Darla flounces over and plonks herself down right next to me.

"Darla honey you went on and on at me about how much you NEEDED to wear
bras not wanted to wear them. You said half the boys at your school were
staring at your nipples. I not only bought them for you but I bought nice
fancy bras so the girls in your class would be impressed when you changed
for gym or swimming. So you go out with your friends without wearing one?"

She gives me the "What does a mum know about a pre teen's life" look.

"Oh mum it was so sticky and muggy it felt like the straps were choking
me. I was sweaty and scratching so I left it off!"

"So you don't mind boys looking at you outside of school then?"

She does a drama queen raise of her eyes at that.

"Mum it was me and Tiffany and Carla and a couple more of the girls; no
boys!"

She leans right up against me and rests her head on my shoulder.

"You want me to look nice don't you? I do look nice don't I?"

Oh hell I suppose she's got a point there!

"Well yeah you look really ... err... cool. Those stockings look super on
you though maybe you're getting a bit big for those shorts. Look next time
you're dressing to go out with your friends just show me first. I still
think you should have a bra on under that top. If you like I'll buy you
some mesh bras. They're light and much more comfortable in this kind of
weather."

At that she squeals and hugs me hard.

"Mum you are SO COOL! Betty Grainger's mum wants her to look like a frump
and Sally Davis has to sneak out of the house so her mum won't make her
come back and get changed. You understand!"

I've hooked an arm around her and got my chin resting on the back of her
neck somehow.

"Honey stop trying to butter me up! Look you're a bit of a stunner for not
yet 13 and I'm your mum and I want to make sure your looks don't get you
into trouble. Do you get were I'm going?"

"Well I get my looks from you mum. All my friends say you're a hottie!"

She's settle back against me now and her cheek's resting on the upper slope
of one breast. I get how she's thinking and let her know I know. Just the
same I'm preening mentally at the compliment that all those othe girls
think I'm a hot mum!

"Honey I told you to stop with the flattery. You just got away with it
today but I'll be keeping a closer eye on your outfits in future."

"Okay mum that's cool!"

She's nestled up against me now and I'm relaxing too when my nostrils flare
and then flare wider. Absolutely no chance of my being wrong so I turn my
head a little so my mouth's close to my daughter's ear. I say it softly but
very clearly.

"Darla Fletcher you are wearing my perfume! In fact you are wearing my
"Dark Passion" aren't you?"

She stiffens and out of the corner of my eye I catch the fast flash of
guilt on her pretty face. She thinks fast and then throws herself on my
mercy but without grovelling.

"Err well just a touch of it mum! Hardly any really. And I mean you never
use it much. If you went out more it would all be gone by now and it does
smell lovely!"

"I do too go out!"

"Yeah like about four times a year!"

I can't really get mad at her so I grab her and tickle her ribs till she
giggles and wriggles.

My nose is right close to her, near where her firm breasts are doing their
best to escape her top. I dramatically sniff hard!

"Just a touch? It smells like you took a bath in it! I'll bet you used the
lot!"

With mischief in me I sudden lick her neck.

"Mmmm it makes you taste nice though love!"

She giggles some more as I lick her neck and then suck on her earlobe. She
moves uneasily against me and then I use the tip of my tongue to flirt with
her ear. Now she shudders! I've forgotten that the ear is a real erogenous
zone and Darla sucks in a deep breath.

"Want me to stop honey?"

She turns her face to look right at me and there's twin red spots on her
cheeks.

"No I don't want you to stop. Go right on!"

There's a devil in me tonight and I return to her smooth neck and lick it
again. Then I nip hard to give her a sharp little love bite. She yelps just
a bit! When she turns square on to me her eyes are huge and her lips
slightly parted. We stare at each other and I swear I don't make the first
move and neither it seems does she but somehow we're kissing.

Her lips are soft and cool though her breath tastes of something she's
drunk or chewed; tart and sharp it's pleasant but her mouth is
better. Three times we kiss and pull back as my lips feel tender but my
nipples have stiffened into hot stones. I feel I have say it again before
everything goes insane.

"Want to stop honey."

"No please I don't want us to stop!"

Then her arms hook around my neck and drag my mouth down to hers. This time
I probe with my tongue and her lips part to allow me entrance into her
mouth. Two eager wet tongues wrap around each other's as we kiss
madly. Through my shirt and her thin top I can feel her pointy nipples
pressing against me. I need to feel more of her skin against mine and tug
at the hem of her top until it bunches under her arms. While I'm struggling
with her tight top Darla's fingers have been busy and now my shirt is
unbuttoned from top to bottom and open wide.

Smiling widely now my daughter raises her arms and I can pull her top up
and off. In the dim light of the lamp I was reading by I'm staring at her
breasts. I'm looking at them not as a mother but as a woman admiring a
young woman. Her areolas are small with long pointed nipples standing proud
from them. Her breasts are round and firm on her narrow ribcage.

Kneeling on the sofa I lean close to her, purse my lips, and blow gently on
those hard nipples. Darla's long copper lashes flutter down and she gasps
softly. Then I kiss the top of each in turn! The tip of my tongue flickers
over her sensitive flesh as I suck and lick both nipples till they gleam
with saliva. Even as excited as she is she pushes my shirt back off my
shoulders and impatiently I shrug out of it.

My own nipples, long and thick and flat ended, are gorged with blood and
throbbing. As I press Darla back onto the sofa her hands come up to cup my
big pear shaped breasts and tug on those thick teats. Now it's my turn to
gasp with the pleasure I feel.

My fingers are trembling as they fumble at the drawstring of her tiny
shorts, draw down the short zip, and ease them down over her hips. I have
to stop at her ankles and unbuckle her high heeled sandals before tossing
her shorts aside"

I'm looking at my daughter's pussy with sheer lust! The small butterfly
wings of her labia are puffy and dark and there's a damp sheen to her
sex. While I'm held rapt by the sight, and the aroma, of an aroused girl's
sex Darla has slipped a hand inside the waistband of my panties. Her
fingers touch my crease and I groan from the dark excitement. With
impatient clumsiness my daughter and I free me from those panties that seem
suddenly to be plastered to me.

I'm sprawled half across Darla now and her curvy body seems burning
hot. Without conscious thought I move to straddle her, try to keep most of
my weight off her, and then press my wet pussy against hers.

Darla's eyes are huge as she clenches her teeth and stifles what I'm sure
would have been a shrill scream!

As I grind against her I feel what "Magda" in my book was
experiencing. Electrical crackles and pulses of burning heat are throbbing
deep inside me. Darla writhes beneath me as my wide hips thrust and then
thrust harder. I can feel that she's as wet as I am and sense her climax is
as close as mine. She has a leg hooked around me as her hands, on my back,
claw at me.

Breasts and bellies slicked with sweat I ride my daughter madly towards her
climax; and my own! This time she does scream; hoarse and shrill! She bucks
under me as my dazed mind registers that I've taken Darla to a massive
orgasm. And then a white hot flare inside me announces my own eruption. My
mind empties of everything except the insane pleasure of cumming with my
own daughter.

Like a robot my hips keep churning away as she thrusts up as wildly as I
thrust against her. Maddened with lust we drive each other to temporary
exhaustion. As the last sparks of ecstasy die away I collapse atop her with
my heart hammering in my breast.

The room is silent apart for our laboured breathing and I somehow find the
strength to roll off my supine daughter. I swallow hard, lick my lips, and
it takes two or three attempts before I can speak clearly.

"Darla honey maybe I should be telling you this was a big mistake. Perhaps
I should say this was wrong, should never have happened, will never happen
again. I'm not going to! That was incredible and if you feel anything like
I do you'll want more."

I wait with baited breath to see if I've destroyed my relationship with my
daughter or taken it in a totally different direction. There's an
expression on her face I've never seen before. Sultry? Then her face breaks
into a heavy lidded smile.

"OMG mum! A mistake? You were amazing! That was amazing! Do I ever want
more of that!"

Huge relief floods through me but at the same time I'm sort of mentally
shaking my head in amusement. I've just tribbed my own daughter, we both
had fantastic sex, and she's natural enough and unaffected to come out with
"OMG"! Just like she would if her friend Tiffany had told her the school's
hottest boy had a crush on their friend Carla!

Sitting up I give her a sort of quirky grin.

"Well honey if you want more then I think it's a good idea if we head up to
my bedroom. I'd better lock this window anyway."

Standing up I find my legs are trembling and I feel shaky; but shaky in the
best of ways. Pulling the widow shut, twisting the locking handle, pressing
the locking button, I'm wondering if a neighbour is gawping at Sukie
Fletcher stark naked at the window. If they are I'm past caring after
what's just happened. I hold out my hand to Darla still sprawled on the
sofa.

"Coming honey?"

"You betcha mum!"

She's younger than me and has to be tougher than she looks because she
grabs my hand to swing up to her feet without a tremor or tremble to her
shapely legs. I lead her across the room, into the hall, and we start up
the stairs hand in hand. Funnily we're not dashing up them to hit my bed
just ambling when Darla stops me with a tug on my hand.

"Mum I never knew you liked women, I mean girls and women, well you know
what I mean. Like how long have you..."

I lay a finger across her lips to hush her.

"When we're in my room you ask me anything you like and I'll do my best to
answer and explain everything to you. That okay honey?"

She nods solemnly.

"That's cool mum cos' I'm wondering about a few things now!"

As we start up the stairs once more I chuckle a little.

"What's funny mum?"

"Well honey if you hadn't stolen my perfume none of this might ever have
happened!"


* "Perfume has appeared on another website but I've submitted it to Nifty
because "Perfume 2" is now complete. If you don't want to wait to read it
on Nifty it's already available on "Sapphic Shares" so pop over and take a
look.*



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