Date: Sat, 21 Jan 2006 23:45:02 -0500
From: misanthropy.philanthropy@gmail.com
Subject: Taxi Ride

Please do not post my email headers, but please post my email address.
This story is for the lesbian/incest and lesbian/urination sections.

TAXI RIDE
(FF, incest, pissing)

Feedback is certainly welcomed! misanthropy_philanthropy@gmail.com

My daughter Miranda (Mandy) and I had always been a little flirty with
each other in the way that many mothers and daughters are. Not really
in a sexual way, but in a sort of teasing, who-dares-to-go-further
kind of way. For example, when she was a young teenager and I was
going on my first dates after my divorce from her father, she would
watch me get dressed and urge me to wear a lower neckline and a higher
hemline. I would do the same when she started going on dates, just as
a joke. We would wait up for each other at night and grill each other
with questions and accusations. She would accuse me of being a slut,
and I would accuse her of flaunting her perky teen breasts at any male
she saw. This was all a huge joke to us, of course.

Once, when I came home quite intoxicated and somewhat disheveled
(though in a good mood, since my date had been an excellent fuck),
Mandy helped me undress. I remember that it seemed like she was
groping me, and I think I accused her of doing just that, albeit with
good humor. She responded -- and I remember this clearly -- by cupping
and squeezing my heavy, hanging breasts that she had just released
from my brassiere while standing behind me. "No, Mom, I'm not groping
you," she said with an innocent little-girl voice, and the contrast
between word and deed was so extreme that all we could do was laugh.

That was a long time ago, though. Since then I have remarried and
Mandy has moved away. Recently I went to visit her in Chicago where
she now lives and works at a public relations firm. We made plans to
paint the town red with some of her friends and by the end of the
evening we were both more than a little drunk.

Mandy hailed a cab with no trouble -- she stood ten feet away from the
curb and flailed her arm, and since she was wearing a black leather
miniskirt and a nearly-unbuttoned white halter top with a black bra
visible beneath, a cab stopped immediately. An older Indian Sikh was
driving and greeted us perfunctorily but politely. Mandy's best friend
Gina sat in the front with the driver while her co-workers Sandra and
Tiarra sat in the back with me.

"Where am I going to sit?" Mandy said, still standing in front of the
cab, her slender hairless legs shining in the headlights.

"Sit on my lap, sweetie," I called through the open window. Her
friends thought that was hilarious but Mandy stumbled over, opened my
door and squeezed herself onto my lap. We had to rearrange our feet
(Mandy had to take off her stiletto heels) but eventually we were all
cozily ensconced in the back.

The ride home was quite bumpy and Mandy was wobbling around on my lap.
Along with Sandra and Tiarra, I did my best to keep my daughter
upright. We were all teary-eyed from laughter.

Tiarra was the first to go. She gave us a $20 for her share of the
fare and tip, blew kisses to everyone, and made her way up the front
steps of her apartment building. Our driver pulled sharply away from
the curb, causing Mandy to slide across my lap. Her hands shot out to
steady herself -- and her right hand clutched my breast.

"Ouch!" I cried. "That's not a handle!"

Mandy and Sandra dissolved into drunken giggles. "I'm sorry, Mama,"
Mandy gasped. Her painful grip had changed into a gentle caress. "Is
that better?"

"They're big enough to be handles," Sandra observed. It was true -- I
had the largest breasts in the taxi, size 40DD. They were packed
somewhat uncomfortably into my underwire bra, and as usual the wire
was making my breasts ache. My daughter's drunken grab hadn't made
matters any better, although her playful caress was starting to fill
me with a different kind of feeling.

I eased her hand away. "You are SO drunk, Mandy," I said jokingly.

"Your nipples are SO hard, Mom," she said back, and as I looked down
and confirmed what she had said, she and Sandra shrieked with
laughter. My nipples are not exceptionally large, but with this
particular bra, when they get erect they are noticeable.

"So are yours," I said, reaching up to pinch one of her prominent
nipples poking through the fabric of her black silk bra. Her white
blouse had slid off her right shoulder and I caught the cabdriver's
eye in the rear view mirror. He was enjoying the show, Sikh or not.

"You two are scandalous," said Sandra. "Mandy, why are you even still
on your mother's lap? I'll scoot over."

"She's warm," Mandy replied, "plus I like my mama. You don't like my mama?"

Before Sandra could answer, Mandy practically interrupted herself by
yelling "I gotta PEE! Are we there yet?"

A few minutes later we dropped off Sandra at her home in the suburban
North Side. Then it was back to the Loop to get to Mandy's small but
neat condo in an anonymous brown Wicker Park building.

Suddenly I felt a warm dampness in my lap. I reached down without
thinking and ended up with my hand between Mandy's legs. I could feel
a warm stream of urine hissing out of her cunt and onto my fingers,
where it trickled onto my skirt and soaked my thighs.

"Oh my god, Mandy!" I exclaimed, looking up at her. Her eyes were
closed and she was biting her lip -- the classic look of total
concentration. Without opening her eyes, she leaned over and placed
her lips against my ear to whisper, "Shhh, I'm peeing."

I have never really been into watersports as a fetish, though I admit
to sometimes allowing a small trickle of urine while I masturbate just
to enjoy the extra warmth and moisture, but the combination of Mandy's
warm pee and her hot breath in my ear gave me a tremendous and
undeniably sexual rush. I nuzzled her neck and whispered, "Just wait
until we get home, sweetie. You're in big trouble."

"Ohhh ..." she murmured in response. "Are you gonna spank me, Mommy?"

The little-girl voice that she used somehow doubled my excitement. "If
you're lucky," I whispered back.

She cuddled closer to me and rested her head on my shoulder. I allowed
my damp knuckles to stroke subtly against her thighs until I was
brushing against her wet pubic hair. The little tramp wasn't even
wearing underwear. I couldn't help but think of all our little
egging-on jokes so many years ago. Was this the end result?

"Here's your stop, girls," called Gina from the front seat. "Good luck
getting her sobered up," she said as I somehow managed to fish two ten
dollar bills out of my purse with Mandy still on my lap and curled
against my body.

"See you on Monday, Mandy!" Gina called from her window as the cabbie
pulled away.

"Where's your key, sweetie?" I asked.

"Mmmm, purse," my daughter murmured, then gave a low, throaty laugh
and waved her shoes in the air. I extracted the slim magnetic-strip
card and got us into the building and the elevator.

As soon as the door closed, Mandy put her arms around my neck and
rested her head between my breasts. "Oh God, I gotta pee again," she
moaned.

"Oh, just wait until we get into your condo, sweetie, OK?" I talked to
her as the elevator rose to her floor, then talked her down the
hallway. I used the same card to open her front door. Once inside, she
leaned against the wall while I shut the door and turned to face her.

"Look at us. We're both soaked with urine," I said, trying to sound
like an annoyed mother. In response, Mandy started sliding down the
wall, and I lunged forward to catch her, but she had too much momentum
and we ended up in a tangled mess on the floor.

I was on the bottom leaning half against the wall and half against the
front door. Mandy was on top, facing me, partially squatting but with
one hand behind her holding herself somewhat upright. Her skirt had
hiked all the way up to her waist and her cunt was visible to me for
the first time.

I had not seen my daughter's genitals at this close distance since I
had bathed her as a child. We had seen each other nude in passing
several times in her adolescence, but never like this, and certainly
not once she was an adult.

The honey-colored hair on her mons matched the hair on her head in
color alone. Unlike the long, straight head of hair that Mandy had
been proud of for years, her pubic hair was short and somewhat curly.
Her labia were plainly visible and open to reveal a glistening crimson
slit and prominent clitoris.

"My pussy," she said in that low voice again, noticing where my
attention was directed. "Gonna do it again."

She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, and I knew what was coming
and did not try to stop it. A hot jet of musky golden liquid sprayed
from her cunt and onto my skirt and shirt. I held her hips and
watched, and Mandy managed to raise herself up from her half-squat to
a sort of hunched-over standing position, and her urine sprayed across
my breasts. And God help me, I opened my shirt to better receive the
flow. I loved the feel of this salty intimate fluid drenching my
breasts, soaking my bra and marinating my nipples, which now felt more
erect than ever. I smiled up at Mandy only to see that she was leering
down at me.

As the flow slowed to a trickle, she slumped forward and caught
herself by slapping her hands against the wall. I slid forward between
her legs, then stood up and hugged her from behind.

"You're very naughty," I said, for lack of anything better to say.

In response, Mandy turned around and kissed me with such savagery that
I stumbled back a step. Her tongue pressed fiercely against mine and
her arms squeezed our bodies together. At first I tensed up with
surprise, but soon I relaxed in my daughter's arms and returned her
kiss.

As our tongues and lips danced and swirled together, Mandy's hands
slid down my back and raised the hem of my skirt to my waist. She
cupped my round, panty-clad asscheeks in her hands, and I felt a
moment of insecurity -- would she be repulsed by my fat middle-aged
butt? The hesitation was replaced by excitement as she squeezed and
pinched every inch of my ass, sliding her fingers underneath the
panties to explore my crack, then moving one hand around to the front
to cup my vulva in her palm.

My hands were still stroking her back repeatedly, not venturing below
her waist, because I was waiting to see how far this would go. When
she finally knelt in front of me and slid my panties down to my knees,
I realized it would go all the way.

"Mama!" she exclaimed. "Your pussy is shaved!"

It was true. My new husband preferred a hairless cunt and I shaved it
bare for him, but soon I had been shaving it for myself as well. I
discovered that I liked my cunt hair-free, and the enthusiasm with
which he ate me to orgasm on a nightly basis didn't hurt, either. And
here was my daughter staring at my motherly cunt, and parting the lips
with her index fingers.

"Look at that fucking clit," she breathed, then shoved her face
against my crotch and rubbed her cheeks, nose, lips and chin all over
my dripping, burning cunt.

My knees buckled and I held her head for balance while she vigorously
ate my cunt. This was utterly thrilling, surely the worst (and best)
thing I had ever done, and I was nearly delirious with the tremendous
joy of the taboo act in which I was engaged. My own daughter, sucking
my cunt, the very cunt from which she had first come into the world.
My cunt. Her mouth. Oh god.

I shut my eyes and felt the orgasm hit like a tsunami. I bucked
against her face -- her hair became a convenient handlebar for my
clenched fists -- and threw my head back, knocking the crown of my
skull against the hallway wall, which strangely made me cum even
harder, with bright stars exploding behind my tightly clenched eyes
and wave after wave of hot white orgasms expanding from my cunt.

Finally I let myself slide to the floor and Mandy moved up to kiss me,
and when I tasted my own cunt on my daughter's tongue I hugged her
fiercely and wrapped my thighs around her bare hips.

The kiss and the embrace were like a warm fire after a volcanic
eruption; the heat generated was strong, but not nearly as intense as
what had come before. Soon our open-mouthed tonguing turned into pecks
on the cheeks interspersed with girlish giggles.

"Bedroom?" Mandy finally whispered into my ear.

"Yes, but bathroom first," I said. We rose to our feet, light-headed
and loose-limbed, and made our way down the hall to Mandy's immaculate
bathroom. A claw-footed tub dominated one side of the chamber and
Mandy stepped over the side, then lay flat on the bottom of the tub,
knees bent, arms scrunched at her sides.

"On me," she said. "On my clothes."

My panties were still around one ankle. I kicked them off dramatically
-- they fell into the tub with Mandy, who sniffed them and sucked the
crotch into her mouth, her eyes rolling back into her head.

I unbuttoned my skirt and stepped out of it, then kicked off my heels
as I stripped off my shirt. Last to go was my wet bra, and when my
heavy, glistening breasts were revealed at last, Mandy raised her arms
and beckoned like a child asking to be picked up.

I stepped into the tub, placing my bare feet on either side of her
urine-sodden miniskirt bunched around her waist, and squatted over her
torso.

"No, turn around," Mandy said, trying to spin my hips with her hands.
I stood and did as she asked, then squatted again. Now my ass and cunt
were hanging over her breasts.

"Your pussy is so beautiful," she moaned, rubbing my ass and labia
with her hands.

"You mean my fucking cunt," I said, gripping her thighs with my hands
as I released the torrent of urine that had been building up inside of
me.

I peered down between my knees to witness the spectacle. I was pissing
on my daughter's breasts and the hot spray was splashing her face, her
chin, her open mouth and extended tongue. The urine ran down her sides
and pooled beneath her. I used two fingers to massage her clit as my
bladder drained and she trembled with orgasm as the golden flow turned
to a slow trickle. Mandy sat up just enough to place her lips around
my labia and suck the last few drops of alcohol-flavored piss out of
my hairless cunt.

I shuddered as she delved further into me with her tongue and grunted
with pleasure when she slid one of her wet fingers into my asshole.
The extra stimulation and the smell of my own urine brought me to a
quivering orgasm rapidly, and when I stood up in that tub I nearly
blacked out from the blood rush.

Mandy stood up behind me and we both removed her clothes. Once they
sat in a sopping pile in the bottom of the tub, we embraced and kissed
again, and it was yet another new delightful sensation, to feel our
wet bare breasts rubbing together as our hands explored our
now-familiar bodies.

We showered then and washed away the residual sticky strong-smelling
piss on our bodies. As we dried off with fluffy towels, Mandy asked me
if I would shave her bare, as I was, and I happily agreed.

We brought her disposable razors, washcloth, shaving gel, scissors and
towel into the bedroom, along with a bowl of warm water from the
kitchen. I spread the towel on the edge of the bed and she sat on it,
spreading her legs as wide as she could, and I could not resist
kissing her cunt while she played with my hair.

I trimmed the short curly hairs as best as I could, then covered her
cunt with gel, stimulating her as much as I could. Her legs, bent at
the knees and spread wide, suddenly stiffened and clamped around my
hand as she shuddered and bucked and moaned, and before I could say
anything she raised her head and said "You are so good at making me
cum, Mom," and the incongruity of it made us both laugh.

As I shaved away the remaining stubble, I had some sober thoughts that
I decided to share with her.

"What are we going to do after this?" I began.

She giggled. "Probably have sex again. Maybe a 69."

"Well ... that sounds delightful ... and I'm not saying I don't want
to. But I mean -- what's going to happen to us, as mother and
daughter, after we sober up and wake up in the morning?"

Silence from Mandy. Perhaps she's more sober than she seemed, I
thought. I continued with the shaving and the thinking aloud.

"Sweetie, I've had relationships with women before, but not when I was
married. And tonight ... was really incredible. And I'm not saying
that it's over, because when I finish shaving you I am definitely
going to make you cum again, but can we really keep on this way?"

I didn't wait for an answer. "It's not as bad as it seems. I mean, you
live in Chicago and I'm hundreds of miles away, so it won't be awkward
on a daily basis, but how can we act as mother and daughter at
Christmas, for example, after we have traded golden showers and had
wonderful oral sex? Mandy, the next time I see you, I won't be able to
think about anything but what happened tonight, and how wonderful it
was ... and how it probably changed our relationship forever. Time to
rinse."

I took the washcloth and wiped away the foamy gel and loose hairs,
then dampened a corner of it and wiped her cunt completely clean. The
hairless labia and mons glistened with promise like a monument
unearthed and cleaned by faithful archaeologists. I wanted to taste
her, to eat her, to possess her in a way that mothers weren't supposed
to possess their daughters. To consume her; to know her in the
ultimate way; to be her lover and her mother, now and forever.

"All done, sweetie," I said, standing up and leaning over to kiss her.
But she was sound asleep, passed out at last with a small grin on her
lips.

As her mother, I tucked her into bed alongside me; as her lover, I
rubbed my finger against her wet and hairless slit until she woke up
crying out with come and love. I kissed her and caressed her, as
mother and lover, until she fell asleep in my arms.

THE END

Feedback is certainly welcomed! misanthropy_philanthropy@gmail.com