Title: Furious With Myself
Keywords: fF, mat, teen, fdom, inc, mom, daughter, cheat
Author: Caesar
Summary: An evening of intimacy between mother and teenage daughter turns into something else.
 



There was a young fellow named Goody
Who claimed that he wouldn't, but would he?
        If he found himself nude
        With a gal in the mood
The question's not woody but could he?


Furious With Myself

by Caesar, copyright 2005

$Revision: 1.3 $ $Date: 2007-12-02 07:47:45 $

I am just furious with myself!

And I can't help but feel that I was duped and totally manipulated!

My husband returns tonight and I am horrified to think that he will
just look at me and know I cheated on him.  What will he say when he
learns that it was with another woman, a younger woman... our
daughter!

My body is still numb from the things we did last night!  The wine
removed my inhibitions as my daughter seduced me.  Yes, that is right,
my sixteen year old daughter seduced me... me, her middle-aged mother.

We spent the night talking.  Mom's out there, you know what I'm
talking about?  Just you and your daughter, opening up about
everything and anything.  A rare event after they hit puberty and
become rebellious.  An event to grasp and enjoy, while knowing when to
release as well.  Teenage girls and their mothers are often a volatile
mix.

Sheryl was no different than most other girls her age - for the last
few years we didn't talk together, instead we yelled at each other.
So when my daughter sat down, and not dropped or jumped from half ways
across the room as was normally the case, next to me on the couch as I
was reading a good book, already 3 glasses into the booze, and just
started to talk to me - I was ecstatic.  There was no rising of voice,
no attitude thrown in my face - it was extremely nice.  Love flowed
through my veins and we sat next to each other, often touching with
our hands - hugging, holding, crying and looking deeply into the
others eyes.

During the conversation my daughter admitted to me that she was no
virgin - though I had guessed this years ago.  What did surprise me
was that she had sex with her few boyfriends the last years but that
she only did it out of necessity.  It shocked me to think that my
daughter was allowing her boyfriends access to her body but received
little in the way of pleasure in the act.  Was peer pressure so
defining?

The similarities within my marriage, Sheryl's father and I, shocked
me.  For me, I enjoyed the adventure of discovering my sexuality at my
daughters age - it was new, exciting and felt really really good.  I
married a wonderful and caring man and we could not keep our hands off
the other.  But then the years dragged on, we slowed down to the point
of a near drought in terms of my sex life.

It seemed, as the clocked ticked away, that we could discuss anything
and so, I told Sheryl about her father and I.  In retrospect, it was
an unwise move on my part.  Suggesting that the reverse of her parents
intimacy may happen for her, that she may find a man and her love for
him will give her the pleasure that has been lacking in her sex life
to date.  Ever the optimist!

My daughter had been kneading and massaging my feet and calves at this
point and it felt heavenly.  And I thought nothing of the touch - just
another intimacy that I had been craving in my life, especially
between Sheryl and I.

Then the real shocker - she admitted that she did have pleasure in her
sex life, but that it was not with a guy.

The middle-aged moron that I was, I asked how could this be, while
thinking she was an avid masturbator.  Not so unlike her mother, I
thought with a secret laugh - at least since my mid-thirties.

Then Sheryl looked me right in the eye and told me that she enjoyed
sex with girls better than with guys.

Everything seemed to slow - and my eyes seemed to unfocused from
everything around me.

Then the feeling of Sheryl's warm slow-moving hands on my body was not
so comfortable and I stilled the urge to yank my feet off her lap.  I
felt morally responsible for this disaster and hung my head in shame.
How could my daughter be a lesbian?

She then asked me a personal question; if her father went down on me?
I knew what she meant and I was not that drunk that the question did
not affect me.  I did answer though, it was the intimacy of being
together and the no-holds-bared umbrella of the moment.  My husband
had only ever gave me oral sex infrequently, though not for some
years.  Sheryl asked the next obvious question and I answered
honestly, that I had enjoyed a tongue between my legs.

For some reason this seemed to calm my earlier reservations about
Sheryl revealing herself as a lesbian.  In fact I opened up in a way
that I had never done before and the two of us talked in graphic
details about our sexual adventures.  Why can't Sheryl and I just talk
this way - guys or girls, what did it really matter?  What was
important was that she felt she could talk to me this way.  Perhaps
her distancing herself from me had been her uncertain way of telling
me that she was a lesbian.

Time and space returned to normal - my eyes again focused while
leaving my head spinning, probably from the drinks.

Me, I revealed that I secretly enjoyed anal stimulation but have never
had rectal sex before.  She told me that she enjoyed taking the more
dominant role with another woman - especially if that woman is more
mature.

We spent at least an hour talking like this - opening up and just
giving up those secrets that we hold so dear, allowing the person that
should understand, trust.

A red flag should had gone up in my consciousness right?

I've never talked this way to anyone - and that it was with my
daughter who fought constantly with me since she hit puberty - that
was something magical for the parenting books.  This was validating my
parental guilt, it was renewing my love of being Sheryl's mother.

Long after midnight, we having talked for hours, Sheryl suggested we
go out of the house to the back deck to share a hot tub beneath the
stars.  As moronic as it sounds, I felt giddy and anxious to continue
this magical night between us.

Little did I realize!

Less than five minutes later I stepped out into the chilled clear
night, the stars bright and with a full moon as our only source of
light.  I wore a thick robe over my black one-piece swim suite and
held two empty glasses and a newly opened bottle of wine.  I thought
it would be nice for a mother and daughter to drink wine together
while talking.  This was like a fantasy of mine when Sheryl was still
a toddler, to sit with her and be each others confidant and best
friend.

Sheryl was already in the hot tub when I arrived and stood to take the
glasses from me.  I was surprised that she was topless - her perky
teenage breasts high and firm on her slim frame.  I said nothing - not
wanting to ruin this evening.  My daughter has always been a little
'looser' than I about her body - tonight, I was going to let those
stern beliefs go so that Sheryl and I could be comfortable while we
shared these moments.

We sat with our bodies touching, side to side, her arm over my
shoulder, our eyes looking up at the beautiful stars.  And we talked
slowly as we drank our wine - though, I noticed, she barely sipped
hers.  Sheryl was only sixteen after all - so the realization of her
lack of drinking came as no small amount of relief.

Sheryl told me, in minute-by-minute detail, the first time she was
seduced my a middle-aged neighbour of ours.  My shock turned to
fascination as I listened to Sheryl reveal how she was so amazed to
feel like she had discovered sex as if for the first time, though has
had two male lovers prior to that incident.

I lay my head on her shoulder and listened as my daughter spoke about
discovering sexuality.  And it excited me - recalling my own teenage
exploratory years.  Missing that newness, that intense overwhelming
power of discovering the desires within my own body.

When her tale was done I told Sheryl how I used to love everything
about my vagina when I was her age.  How I could not keep my hands
away from it every night.  How I even enjoyed masturbating with a
mirror between my legs so as to allow me to view my own actions and
pleasure.  I was in lust with my own sex!

She laughed happily at this revelation of her mother's teenage
innocence, perhaps thinking of her own adolescent explorations and I
laughed with her.  It was a good moment.

The fingers of the arm about my shoulder stroked my lower neck and
upper chest absentmindedly.

Sheryl asked me about when I discovered the enjoyment of anal
stimulation and the answer came easily, as if a mother tells her
sixteen year old daughter every day that as a fourteen year old, she
used to insert her finger in her ass as she stroked her clitoris.

Then my daughter suggested I ask dad to have anal sex with me.
Strangely enough, it was my first time of the night to blush, the
first I had thought of my husband all evening as well, and I admitted
that that was an impossibility - her father thought such things
disgusting.  With the dim light, I doubt the flush of my cheeks could
be seen.

She was quiet for a moment before turning her head towards me, my own
turning in response towards her, and then Sheryl said that she felt
sorry for me, a beautiful sexy woman ignored by my husband, her
father.

Then she kissed me.

Lightly - softly - expertly.

I closed my eyes and enjoyed this intimacy with my rebellious teenage
daughter.  The wine and the nights closeness clouding my judgement -
the immensity of the act as yet unrealized.

The kisses became firmer and a slim tongue pried open my lips - I did
nothing but enjoy, my mind cloudy and not yet, even, confused at this
new form of intimacy.

One hand held the back of my head gently but firmly while the other
slipped to my upper inside thigh with barely a thought on my part.

My body hummed with pleasure and my wine glass slipped from my fingers
into the roaring waters without a thought.  I am glad I used the cheap
plastic goblets when I came outside.

A single finger traced outside the crotch of my bathing suit as Sheryl
pulled her lips from my own.  "I am going to fuck your ass tonight
mother."  It was stated not coldly or heartlessly, but gently while
firmly.

I nodded negatively, barely able to form a response - her words, her
actions, both starting to register into my alcohol thicked skull.  Her
statement was so alien, so foreign to me - 'fuck your ass', words you
never think about with regards to your own daughter.  Besides, she was
a girl and did not have the proper equipment to do that act, or any
other that I associated with sex.  Then there was simply the fact that
she was my daughter, more than half my age, and it was wrong what she
was suggesting.

Yet my body was practically vibrating with desire - obviously totally
distinct from my confused and clouded brain.

Two hands moved to slip the straps of my suit off my shoulder, down
and out of my arms and finally over my hips and ass and then off my
feet.

My lolita-bodied daughter stood at that moment and removed her string
bikini bottom - her hairless sex holding my unblinking eyes magically.
She must shave it, I thought confused - surely she was old enough to
begin growing pubic hair?

Sheryl then straddled my hips and our lips met again, the kisses
fierce and hungry - at least on her part.  I haven't been kissed like
that in years - such passion!

My hands came up and encircled my daughters waist - too nervous to
move them out of that safe zone - my lips and even my tongue responded
to her aggressive kisses.

Things were a confusing cloud of lust, wine and exhaustion.  I was
lead to my own bed still wet and dripping water from the hot tub -
this bed I now lay in, the bed that I shared most nights with my
husband - with lips and hands were all over me the whole distance.
The pleasure rose within me and I moved about my bed shamelessly in
passion.

My first orgasm came as we kissed, her fingers moving deliciously, and
expertly, between my legs.  I can still hear her pleasure-filled moans
of lust as she sampled my juices coating on her fingers, then after
rubbing them, my nipples and then finally she feed me her own small
hard nipples with a taste of her own juices.  And god help me I sucked
like a starving babe.

I was then on my stomach and her lips all over me - moving slowly
towards my centre, to my ass.  It was magical and no one outside my
fantasies had ever done these things to me.  Her lips and tongue
fondled and kissed my anus, then pressing firmly into me.  I
shamelessly shoved my ass up into my daughters face again and again.
Two fingers slipped into my super-heated very wet vagina and moved in
time with the tongue fucking my ass.  The orgasm was the greatest of
my life, without a doubt, and I jerked and screamed out as waves after
waves rolled through me.

I was in love.

I was in lust!

Consciousness slowly came back and I found myself on my back, my
daughter above me, her hairless thin-lipped vagina above me,
continually dripping on me.  I felt her expert tongue between my legs,
more pleasure building there.  Without shame I took her into my mouth
and tasted her from the source, loving it.  I wanted to return some of
the pleasure that she had given me - not once thinking how wrong it
was.

Sheryl sat up onto her hands and began to ride her hips back and forth
upon my face, my tongue.  I loved the sounds of her moans coming above
me - the feel of her body responding to my every act.  I invaded her
vagina with my tongue and then move up so I could press it into her
wrinkled tiny anus and wondered if my daughters was like my own, in
texture, taste and especially in how the sexual pleasure seemed to
radiate from it.

She came loudly and anxiously - and I witnessed the event with
innocent joy.

My face was coated with her juices and I could smell her constantly
upon my covered skin - I loved it.

Silence and I only half realized that Sheryl had exited my room before
returning.

She then ordered me onto my knees.  Yes, ordered - firmly and without
the possibility of denial.  But as cloudy as my mind was, I mindlessly
moved as order but was nearly asleep when she returned, I did not say
or do anything else at that moment.

A loud crack resonated through the room before I felt the sting of my
daughters hand on my ass.  I finally opened my eyes to look over my
shoulder and saw her kneeling at the end of the bed stroking an
obscenely looking man-like object thrusting from her groin.  She was
grinning evilly as she struck my ass again with her hand.

I cried out in pain but rushed to do as ordered.

She knelt between my legs and grasped my soft rounded hips as she
shagged me good and proper.  It was just like a man - a little larger
than her father, but comparable in all other respects.  In fact I was
sighing with pleasure and pressing back anxiously all too soon after
insertion.

Was this why sex with a man was not necessary, as my daughter had
declared earlier that night?  A woman could enjoy a cock without the
politics necessary for its tradition use.

Fingers fondled and inserted into my relaxed slippery anus.  A hand
groped my meaty hanging tits, twisting my large hard nipples almost
painfully.  Infrequently a hand would strike my rounded raised ass
cheeks and I would yelp dutifully.

I was loving every second!

Then my daughter slipped her cock from my cunt and pressed it firmly
into my ass.

It happened that fast!

I never felt anything like it, outside my recipes for fantasy, and my
mind exploded with passion.  Sheryl fucked me hard and fast as my body
climaxed again and again as it never had before.

Then I remember nothing else about last night probably passing out
during the continual waves of orgasm - remembering nothing except
waking sore and physically content this morning.

Laying in bed, still naked and smelling like my daughters and my own
mingled juices, I looked out at the cloudless sky and remembered every
detail of the evening before.  Why could I not have forgotten how low
I had descended within my drunken stupor?

My husband would be home tonight from his work-related trip and I had
a lot to do - not the least of which was wash my bedding and air out
our room.

God my ass was sore... but I loved how it throbbed contently.

Then my door opened and there stood Sheryl in panties and a tee-shirt,
a half smile on her lips.  "You're awake finally?"  My hands ensured
my duvet was covering me up to the neck - my daughter noticed and
snickered at my attempt at modesty.  "I want you to take me shopping
today mom - I wanted to buy some new clothes."  It wasn't a question
and my mouth opened in protest but nothing came out - remembering last
night.

My cheeks felt hot and I had little doubt they were bright red.

Sheryl walked further into my room and sat on the side of my bed
before firmly pulling the duvet down to my knees - her eyes devouring
me boldly.  I felt my cheeks flush in shame.  I may not have thought
of it the night before but I did now, I was no teenage hard-body any
longer.

She finally broke the silence, "I want you to wear something sexy
today mom - a skirt with stockings.  Do you have stockings?"  I nodded
affirmatively, I had worn a pair the last time for my anniversary
nearly four years ago.  Sheryl nodded as a reply, her smile widening,
"And no panties today mom - I want easy access to that sexy place
between your legs."

I finally turned away - ashamed at what we had done, that I just lay
there beneath my daughters gaze and allowed her to talk and treat me
this way.  Her slim fingers grasped my chin and forced me to look at
her again.  "Do you understand me slut?"

Never in my life had anyone called me that!  The word had never fit
before last night I had to admit to myself grimly.

Her fingers pulled at the thick patch of pubic hair between my legs,
"And shave this before you shower - I like to eat my peach without any
fuzz."

Sheryl stood and strode out of my bedroom while laughing loudly.

--
