I hear the clock chime from the hall. It is 11.15 as I stand by the kitchen table waiting for the kettle to boil. Click and turning to see the steam wafting towards the ceiling, I lollop towards it, my head hurts with every step, my muscles ache. My own fault I know, but did it have to remind all the time.
I pour the black strong liquid, stir it and as I turn to put the spoon in the sink I see Emma standing by the door. I did not hear her come down. I smile.
“Good morning.” Wincing as my face muscle ache.
She walks towards me, dressed in a short red robe. She ruffles her wild hair trying to make it look presentable. I tell her the kettle has just boiled if she wants anything. I suppose I should be a good host and offer to make it, but I need a sit down. Anyway, she knows where everything is, she stays here often enough.
I sit with my back to her, nursing the hot cup, taking small sips, as I stare at the wall, trying to bring back my senses.
“I saw you last night.” Emma says suddenly and quietly in my ear.
I nearly spill my coffee, not expecting her so close to me. Placing the cup down, I turn my head but she is already back at the kettle.
Suddenly I remember about last night. Emma and my daughter Marie in that room, in that position. I blush very red as Emma puts her cup on the table next to mine. She sits next to me, all the time looking at me with a knowing look on her face. There is a tense silence, me not wanting to look at her. I try to obscure my face with the cup, whilst she stares back at me for what seems an awfully long time.
“I saw you last night, in the room.”
I am shocked, in fact mortified, that I’d been seen. I thought I was hidden from view, I kept so quiet, not wanting to be found out for watching two girls have oral sex. Let alone one of them being my daughter – I continue with the silence.
“I saw you last night, in the room, sat in the armchair.”
This is getting painful, almost torturous, but I never move as I sip the hot black coffee.
“I saw you last night in the room, sat in the armchair, watching, as I watched you.” Emma says, licking her lips before taking her cup and slowly sipping from it.
I know I should say something but I am tongue tied, now ashamed of what I’d seen and unable to offer any words of explanation. Hindsight is a wonderful thing went through my head. I could and should have stopped it. The drink, atmosphere and lateness of the hour were to blame I tell myself. All lies I know, but it is the only thing I can hide behind at this present moment.
Emma puts her cup down, again leaning closer towards me.
“Cat got your tongue Mrs Anderson,” she whispers, “Nothing to say in your defence?”
I turn to face her, our heads only inches apart.
“Did you enjoy the little show?” She asks, smiling.
Again, I remain silent.
“Oh, I think you did, I saw you looking at me, and you never took your eyes of me. I could see your hands in your lap. They told me everything.” Emma says, seductively licking her lips.
The tension is broken by footsteps on the staircase. Marie plods her way down them.
“I have not finished with this yet.” She smirks and rises to greet Marie.
I breathe a sigh of relief as my daughter walks in, dressed in her baggy boys pyjamas and her white rabbit slippers. She offers a warm good morning to us both. I half smile back.
– * –
By the middle of the afternoon I have to lie down. The powers of recovery at my age are not as fast as they were when I was younger. I now realise why I don’t drink very often.
Two hours later and I feel a lot better as I make my way down stairs, calling to see if anyone is still in. No reply is forth coming so I enter the kitchen. I have the munchies, looking in the fridge I see some left over homemade potato soup, which will do nicely until dinner later.
Just like this morning I am shocked to see Emma standing in the kitchen as I eat my snack. Again she had snuck up quietly. I sit there for a moment, not knowing what to say.
“Where’s Marie.” I say eventually.
She smirks and almost glides her way to the table. She is wearing a smart white shirt and short black skirt. Her hair has gone from the wild look, to a sleek pulled back style with a pony tail.
“She’s asleep in her room.” She says taking a seat opposite me.
“Do you want any soup, it’s homemade and very nice.” I say in between slurping.
She shakes her head. The quiet tension returns for a moment, before she speaks quietly.
“Did you know Marie was a lesbian?” She stated, all so matter of fact like.
I don’t reply but stop eating my soup. I am embarrassed by the statement, mainly because I did not know that Marie was gay. In fact, I would have said she was very heterosexual from the conversations that we had over the last few years.
“So you didn’t know then, guessing by your silence,” Emma says nodding, “Naughty Marie, not telling mummy about her preference for girls.”
Emma puts her elbows on the table, her face close to mine.
“What about you?” She asks. “Now there’s no Mr Anderson, do you prefer girls?”
I suddenly feel sick again. I drop my spoon in the bowl, causing it to splash a little on the table.
“How dare you, I’m a respectable woman.” I say rather louder than I was expecting.
With that I scrape the chair back and leave very quickly. Away from the vile conversation and in my own kitchen as well. I walk into the lounge and sit down. Less than a minute later I get back up and head to the kitchen. Emma is still sat there. I lean on the table by her elbow.
“How dare you insinuate such things, get out of my house.” I say rather quietly but with venom.
She never moved, except to turn her eyes away from me.
“Get out immediately.” I repeat.
Nothing happens for a minute or so. I feel my chest rising with the pent up anger, my breathing now ragged. I think about my next move, should I yell at her or should I grab her and forcibly throw her out of the front door. Well, the next move came from Emma as it happens. She grabs my hair, pulling me towards her and before I can react she kisses me, hard on the lips. I try to pull away, the pain shoots through my head as she tightens her grip on my hair, her lips grinding into mine. My arms flail wildly, again I pull my lips away from her mouth, only to have them sucked harder for a moment, then she releases my numb mouth.
“Now be quiet and kneel.” She hisses into my face. My long black hair tangled around her fingers.
“I said kneel.” She states again.
I have no choice but to comply, the pain is excruciating. I slowly lower myself on the floor, my bare knees against the coldness of the tiled floor. Her hand allowing me just enough leeway but all the time she keeps a very tight grip. My eyes watering, my face I could feel was contorted with the agony she was forces upon me. She pushes my head lower, down towards her lap. I resist for a moment, but she is way too strong for me.
Emma pulls her black skirt up her thighs to her waist, revealing her very bare pussy. I look away, but the pain stops me, so I close my eyes tight shut. Then, the aroma of her heat, girl heat, I know the smell, but this is a whole new experience. The first time I had notice another woman’s scent.
“Look at it, fucking look at my cunt.”
I half open my eyes, then close them just as quickly again. She laughs. I am appalled by her use of that word. She shuffles in the chair, my head closer to her pussy, now I could feel the heat, taste her aroma in my throat. Then my face touches the smooth skin.
“Why don’t you kiss my lips, they’re waiting you for, Mrs Anderson.”
My eyes tight shut, my lips sucked in, not wanting to touch the wetness I can feel on my cheek.
“Why not lick them, just like Marie did last night. I’m sure you saw how she pleasured my soaking wet cunt.”
I want to say no, or scream, or do something, anything. What stops me is the thought that I will have to touch the slick wet lips, millimetres away from my mouth, to do so. We stay like this for a minute.
“Not wanting to play at the moment, eh? Well we can save it until another time. Perhaps when Marie is awake. You know she is asleep now having had a wonderful self-induced orgasm as I watched, whilst you slept just across the corridor.”
She laughs once again.
“Now I’m going to let you go in a moment. You will get up and stand by the table. You will stand there in silence until I say otherwise. Failure to comply and I will drag you back here.”
She releases her grip slowly, my hair untangling with little sharp pulls of pain. Getting up as I wipe my eyes, I nearly stumble into the table in my effort to walk to the spot she ordered. Looking over my shoulder I see her thighs spread, her pussy lips puffed with the excitement. I shudder.
“Hands on head and do not move an inch.” The words came as she rose from the table, the sound of her bare feet walking out of the room.
I am left for at least fifteen minutes; I know because the clock struck once in the hall. How have I got into this position? Why am I letting it happen? I have no answers for my inner voices. By right I should walk upstairs, grabbed Emma and throw her out but, and this is the big but, she knows I watched my daughter Marie lick her pussy to orgasm. There is no escape, suppose she told people, what would they think of me! I start with the tears again.
This time I hear her coming into the room, mind the house is very quiet. I catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eye, as she stands behind me.
I swivel around to face her. She see her smirk as she deliberately licks her lips, then wipes away a tear from my cheek.
“Ok, you may go now,” she says. “But remember this. I will visit you one day next week and we will discuss this matter further.”
My lips quiver and eyes water yet again. I stand waiting for her to move so I can make my escape. She stands to one side and I scurry upstairs to my room, into the bathroom, where I lock the door. I blub like a little baby.
– * –
I am on a knife edge, the fear of a knock at the door, a tap on my shoulder, the ring of the phone. With working at a bank at least I know she cannot catch me during the day. I arrange things for the evenings, even go to the local pub on my own, just to be away from the house.
Saturday comes around eventually. I awake early knowing Marie is in the house, alone without Emma. I stayed up until she arrived home, just in case my tormentor decided to stay the night. The morning is bright and promises to be sunny and warm. I feel happy as I sit with my daughter having a late breakfast, discussing the world around us. I try to ask her if Emma was her girlfriend, but I am unable to find the right words, despite having gone over the speech in my head plenty of times since last weekend. The moment goes when she leaves the room, in a hurry, she is going to be late meeting some friends. I sort of feel relieved as I know that means Emma will be there.
I potter about, doing little jobs that I had put off all week. Lastly, I decide to tidy my wardrobe, not that it is a mess, I need room making for the new summer dresses I know I want. I finally decide, after an age of will I, wont I, on the three I will take to the charity shop.
Suddenly I get the fright of my life. There stands Emma at the end of my bed. I put my hand to my mouth to stop another squeal. She smiles with those bright red lips, her hands folded behind her. The girl is wearing a short, tight black skirt and a figure hugging white sleeveless shirt. Her hair is in a platted ponytail which hangs down loose across her shoulder. I back away, in fear, hoping I can get to the sanctuary of the bathroom.
“Surprise,” she says with a little giggle.
I am not surprised, I am in shock.
“Now, now Mrs Anderson or may I call you Celia?”
I just nod slowly.
“Why that is kind of you.”
There is a pause, so I look at the door to bathroom and curse that it is shut.
“Celia, I wouldn’t go for the bathroom if I was you,” she gestures with a shake of her head. “I want you to sit down on the bed and have a little chat.”
I stand here frozen, torn between decisions. Against my better judgement I sit on the bed. Right on the edge, shaking slightly, waiting for the next move from her. She sits right next to me, her stockinged leg touching mine, I move away.
“I said I would visit this week and here I am. But you don’t seem pleased to see me.”
I am not and that is the understatement of the year.
“I bet you thought you were safe and cosy here on your own. Marie out with friends, and I’m guessing, that you thought that would include me.”
I flinch as she rubs my arm softly with her fingers, I move slowly further away but she just continues with her light touches up and down.
“See, I would have normally met her and our friends, but I had other things to do today. I gave them my apologies.”
Her soft giggle annoys me.
“I have a very pressing engagement with a very beautiful, but very naughty lady. Yes, this lady had the audacity to sit and watch her daughter tongue fuck this girl at a party.”
I cannot help but sniffle as the water well up in my eyes. I feel totally and utterly humiliated by what she is saying.
“And this naughty lady, I believe, enjoyed it so much that she wants to try it for herself.”
A tear rolls down my cheek. I go to stand up, but she is too quick for me, and grabs my arm. Losing my balance, I fall onto the floor.
“Leave me alone.” I wail at her.
The tears flood down my face. My head rests on her knees. I feel her stroke my hair, her fingers gently massage it.
“Please, please.” I repeat over and over.
“Shush now Celia. Tell me truthfully did you or did you not get turned on by seeing Marie lick my pussy?”
“Yes.” I say eventually, sniffling back more tears.
“See, that isn’t hard, is it.”
Emma eases her knees apart, I can again smell the aroma of her sex just like the other day, and just like the other day she is without panties.
“I’m all wet, just for you, in fact I’ve had soaked panties all week. That’s what you do to me Celia!”
Her hand still teasing my hair as she helps me off the floor. I find myself sat on her knee. Her soothing fingers gently rub my neck, her other hand wipe away the tears. Then her bright red lips kiss my neck, softly, then again twice more.
I am beyond confused, my head spins, not knowing what to do. I know what she is doing is wrong, so wrong, but it also feels so right. It is true I have thought about last weekend, not just about seeing my daughter and her, but about her forcing me to see her naked wet pussy. I laid awake in bed late at night thinking about it, stroking myself until I felt the flood of sticky wetness on my hand. I cursed myself each time I cleaned myself up, ashamed of my feelings.
Her lips are now pecking my cheeks, the little tingle of them makes me feel even warmer, but they are so relaxing.
“I want you to kiss me, on the lips,” she whispers. “A proper kiss mind, you know, the one you’ve thought about all this last week.”
She smiles, her hand behind my head pulls me gently, to her waiting painted mouth. I touch her lips softly, her hand holds me there, the silky feel sends shivers through me as I kiss them. My first proper kiss with a woman. Our lips lock together, the feel of them is a whole new experience. In fact, I am disappointed when she pulls away.
“My, aren’t we a fast learner.”
I ignore her and kiss her again, this time with more urgency. Her tongue slips between my lips, I can taste her lipstick.
I lay back on the bed to catch my breath but she just straddles me and continues to kiss, tease and stroke my neck and lips.
Emma sits up, her skirt has ridden up her thighs to reveal her wet sex, I just stare at it.
“Okay, my little voyeur it’s time you learn a new trick with your tongue.” she giggles at her words. “First I’m going to undress you. Get up.”
Emma slips off and pulls me up.
“Stand still and I’ll soon have you naked, just for me to play with as I please.”
She very slowly eases, first my top, then my shorts off me. She gently strokes my skin with her hands, fingers and lips. I have goose bumps with the anticipation of each new touch. My bra follows, my nipples stand proudly out, hard and eager for a touch. I am not disappointed, first her hands caress them, then her lips tease my nipples. My panties are now that soaked I am glad when she slips them off. I was not expecting her to sniff them and even less to lick them. She whispers ‘divine’ before tossing them across the room.
“Turn around.” She commands.
I shuffle around, she slaps my cheeks softly.
“Now my dirty little whore, you’re going to kneel in front of me and use that tongue to kiss and lick my cunt.”
She pauses, pinches my bottom. I squirm away from the pain.
“Stand still slut,” Her hand slap my bottom again, harder this time, “You had better be as good as you were earlier with that tongue or you will really feel the wrath of my hand on your backside.”
Emma walks to the window, turns, and beckons me to her. I slowly kneel at her feet; her calf length black boots touch my knees. Looking up she smiles down at me, I know what I have to do, what I want to do. Pushing the black skirt up her thighs I never take my eyes off her shaven mound, it glistens with juices. She pulls my head with her hand towards it, I want her to force me, even though I would do it willingly.
My nose touches the wetness first, then my tongue tastes the juices, my first taste, it is different to what I imagined, but not unpleasant.
Instinct takes over after the first gentle kisses and licks. I find my tongue has a mind of its own. I just look at the even wetter pussy, occasionally looking up to seek approval. None comes but I guess I am doing something right as I feel her eager hips pushing to meet my eager tongue. Her hands grab my hair, I yelp but continue with my task to make her orgasm. I can feel her near, very near in fact. Her juices now on my cheeks and chin as they flow from her cunt. There I’ve said it now, that word so abhorrent to me. She bends her knees and with one last hard push down on my face, she starts with her orgasm, sliding down the wall she kisses me. Her tongue licking the juices, her juices from my face.
Ten minutes later, after she undresses, we are lying in bed, holding each other. Not a word has been said between us. We just touch and kiss each other softly. It is as if none of her nasty words or actions have happened. She is happy, the smile on her face tells me that.
Eventually we get up and shower, separately. I arrive downstairs first and in the kitchen with a drink of orange juice, turning I see her standing there. How does she manage to sneak up on me every time! I offer her orange but she shakes her head. She takes the glass as I finish, puts it on the worktop, and wraps my hand around hers before leading me around to the end of the table, so I am facing her.
“Pull your dress up and sit on here.”
I look at her for a moment, her expression stony faced, as she taps the table slowly with her fingers
I grab the hem of my white dress and slowly raise it to my hips, revealing my fresh white panties. I slide my bum on to the cold table, my thighs rest against the edge. I feel a big tingle of excitement between my legs, my panties will soon be no longer very fresh. In fact, they never stay there long enough to get wet as she whispers to remove them. I ease my bum off the table and pull them down to my knees. Not being able to reach any further I waggle down my legs so that they drop to my ankles.
Emma tells be to lie back, her hand gently easing me into position. I help her as I shuffle myself into position, it is not comfortable but I am so excited I do not think anything about it. She pulls a chair around in front of me, sits down inches from my thighs, and removes the knickers still hanging from my ankle, before stroking me. The tingle shoots straight to my aching pussy as my body twitches.
After a few minutes of foreplay, I know I am now soaking and desperate for her to touch me where no woman has touch before. I can feel my hips grinding slowly to the seductive touch. Then she stops, sits back in the chair and leaves me there in silence.
“Ok, my new little pet.” She says eventually, giggling.
“You are going to finger your sopping wet cunt, but mind you don’t orgasm though, until I say you can.”
There is that word again, which not so long ago had me cringing, but now sends a thrill through my body.
“Get on with it or you’ll still be here when Marie gets home. I bet she would be shocked to see her goody two shoes mother sprawled across the table.” She smirks back at me.
The thought shocks me as I reach down with my right hand, across my belly, onto the short trimmed hairs around my pussy. I slowly rub my middle finger down my engorged wet, sticky lips. The sensation is electric as I watch Emma watching me slip first one then two fingers into my wet tingling hole.
It is not long before I am desperate to orgasm, my fingers push harder and harder, my hips push up to fuck them deeper and deeper. I know I cannot orgasm but I want to so badly that my whole body aches because of it. On and on I finger fuck myself, hard and slowly I try not to do what I so badly need to do.
“Take your fingers out and you can lick them clean.”
Marie says as she rises from the chair and walks seductively out of the room. I hear her go up the stairs as I slip the sticky digits into my hungry mouth. I normally hate licking my own juices, but today I taste so good.
Upon her return Emma has me put my feet on the table and slide my hips closer to her. Pushing my thighs apart, she opens my treasure box further. Emma teases out a big black dildo from behind her back, in fact it is my big black dildo. She giggles when she sees my face recognise it. How did she know I kept it in the box in my wardrobe?
“I see by the look in your eyes that you know what this is. Your little toy or should I say your big pleasure toy.”
She licks it with the tip of her tongue for a moment.
“Have you ever had, apart from this one, a big eight inch black cock up your cunt Mrs Anderson?”
I shake my head, two or three times making sure she gets the message.
“No, I suppose not, I guess suburban housewives like yourself don’t go looking for it.”
Emma puts the dildo to my wet pussy and slowly, ever so slowly, glides it up and down. I let out a small squeal of delight, the sensation is fantastic, like nothing I have ever felt before.
“And no coming until I say.”
Up and down, up and down, it slides. Each one brings me nearer to orgasm. Each stroke stops just short of my exposed, throbbing clit. She knows, as do I, that if she touches it, even for a second, I will explode.
I am disappointed when she stops. My face must show her as I lift my head to look at what she is going to do to me next. The end of the dildo touches me softly near my rear hole. I squirm away from it, but she grabs my thigh pulling me closer. I see the smile on her face. No one has ever been there, not even me. Feeling an ache, I shut my eyes, trying to make it go away, as the cock begins to open up my ass. The sensation as Emma slowly twists it slowly in is different, not unpleasant just different from when I use it in my pussy.
Soon it is further in my ass, the skin stretching further as the thickest part of the plastic cock slides inside me. Emma starts to fuck me with it, gently at first. All this time I have shut my eyes but she makes open them to look down at the cock taking my anal cherry. I see her pull it nearly all the way out, then I squeal as she shoves it hard back in.
“Fuck you, you fucking bitch.” I screech at my tormentor.
She just laughs and continues the assault on my ass. I keep calling her a bitch and other names as I play with my tits, grabbing them, squeezing them, pinching my nipples. I fuck the dildo as she pushes it in and out. Then Emma just stops, the black cock fully inside me. Her mouth begins to lick and suck on my wet, soaked pussy lips. Another new sensation rips through my body. I know that I am unable to stop my inevitable orgasm. I dig my fingers hard into my breasts as I gush all over her tongue, wave upon wave as I buck against her face.
It takes a few minutes to regain my senses. I sit up and feel the sensation of the dildo still inside. Sitting there almost too exhausted to move, even to reach down and remove the black cock. Eventually Emma helps me off the table, slides out the cock and walks me upstairs to the bathroom. I take a long soak in the bath before she washes dries and dresses me. I now have no fight in me, I realise I want, no need her to take care of me in any way she pleases.
– * –
I am disappointed when she finally says she is leaving. We stand in the hall by the door, I am unsure what to do or say. She tells me to kiss her. I do, without hesitation. A slow lingering thank you kiss. Not good enough for Emma though and she grabs my hair, pulls me closer and her newly painted lips engulf and grind themselves hard in to mine. ‘Until next time’ are her parting words. With that she is gone. I slide down the wall and sit back against the hall wall, tears stream down my face, both in the shame and the ecstasy of the afternoon.
– * –
The door slams shut, Marie is home complete with bags of shopping. She finds me in the kitchen.
“Hey Mum, what you up to?” She asks, struggling with the bags.
I look up from where I am wiping the kitchen table. I pause a moment.
“Just cleaning up the mess I made earlier.” I reply.