7: Daisy

=

We awoke together in Lizzy’s bed. I stretched around and touched her side, feeling her soft, warm, naked flesh.

“Wake up, Lizzy. You have to get to work.”

A groan came from the other side.

“No, Mum, I don’t want to go in today. I’ll send them a text to say I’m not well. Can you get Tim off to school, please?”

So I rolled out of bed and staggered around looking for my clothes before quietly leaving Lizzy to sleep.

Then it was the usual rush around to get Tim ready in time and feed him breakfast while gulping a welcome mug of tea for myself.

By nine o'clock, I was back indoors, tidying the kitchen, when Lizzy came in.

“Cuppa, love?

"Yes, please, Mum. I’m parched.”

I brewed enough for the two of us, and we sat at the kitchen table on opposite sides, sipping the hot drink.

Lizzy looked up, and our eyes locked. A hand slipped across the table, and her fingers intertwined with mine.

“Last night was beautiful, Mummy. Incredibly special. I want to do it again; I need to do it again.”

I looked across at my beautiful daughter, who had been my lover yesterday.

“Lizzy, I want to make love to you again and again.”

We both leant across the table; our lips touched over the centre, and then our tongues played around, flicking between our two mouths.

After a while, we both drew back, sitting on our own sides, staring dreamily into each other's eyes.

“Mummy, I think we need to think about how we play together, what toys we have, and how we dress to arouse ourselves. I suggest we get my laptop and sit together in the lounge and browse some websites.”

“I think you are right. I have a tiny bullet vibrator; it helps me when I want to cum.”

“Ah, Mummy, you aren’t as innocent as you seem! I’ve got a small vibe too, but we will need more than that for the two of us.”

So we finished our tea, then went into the lounge and sat together on a sofa. Lizzy picked up her laptop, set it on my lap, and quickly keyed in a search for sex toys.

The lists seemed endless; I had no idea where to start.

“We need a double-ended vibe, Mum.”

Once again, she clicked here and there, and then suddenly the screen was filled with a long, curved device with a wire leading to a controller.

“I don’t like the colour.”

“Oh, Mummy, it will be inside us; you’ll never see it. It has straps to hold it on one person, who mounts the other and fucks her.”

“Yes, dear, but one end is shorter than the other.”

“That is just an optical illusion. Each end is curved, so if I wear it when I am fucking you the curve bears down on your clit.”

“Oh, goodness, Lizzy, it sounds very complicated.”

“Now, Mum, let's find something to wear.”

More clicking and scrolling followed, then on the screen flashed up a picture of a lacy, black bustier with shiny side panels.

“Do you like this, Mummy? It’s strappy, open crotch, and the top part can be pulled aside for me to suck your nipples.”

“That is nice, dear, but I’m not exactly slim.”

“Don’t worry, Mum, they do it in a plus size. Now for me.”

She scrolled around again, then up popped a picture of a bright red, wet-look body. It looked incredible on the model, with a high collar and a zip running all the way down the front.

“That is sexy, Mum; it turns me on just looking at it. The zip goes around to the back, so I can have any part open to touch.”

“Yes, dear, I can see how it would work.”

=

8: Lizzy

=

I wasn’t too sure whether Mummy was really on board with my ideas. Still, someone had to take charge, and I was not going to let her prevaricate.

Looking at all the toys and lingerie was turning me on; the kiss over the table had started my arousal, but by the time we had got to the red body, I could feel the wetness in my crotch, so I closed the laptop and put it on the floor, then turned to Mummy and kissed her full on the lips.

I let my hand wander across her leg, then slid up her thigh until I was pressing against the material of her blue jeans.

I shifted my kiss across her cheek, then whispered into her ear. “I want to make love to you, Mummy.”

Nibbling at her earlobe, I used my hand to pull down the zip on her jeans, then slipped my hand inside, felt for her panty waistband, and once inside, pushed down over her mound into the heat between her legs.

She was wet—very wet.

“I want to make you cum, Mummy.”

She groaned as I continued to nibble at her ear.

“Please, baby, please, I want it.”

One finger slipped between her lips, and then I slid it up, feeling the hardness of her clitoral shaft.

Mummy shuddered at my touch, then as I rubbed up and down her shaft, she started to moan, at first quietly, and as I sped up my massaging motion, her moans became groans, louder and more continuous.

Still nibbling at her ear, I pushed her on, feeling her body gently flex as she neared the end. Suddenly she gasped, and her body pulsated as the orgasm ripped through her muscles.

“Oh, oh, baby, please, don’t stop.”

So I kept my finger going, just lightly, for a while as the aftershocks hit one by one. Then, when I sensed she was ready, I worked her clit again, my finger pressed deep into its shaft. It seemed seamless, one orgasm to another, as she screamed in pleasure, her head thrust back into the cushion, mouth wide open, eyes screwed shut, and her legs dancing in mid-air like a marionette.

My mother was lost in a welter of pleasure.

I felt a surge in my pussy; I knew I was leaking copious amounts of gunge; I had to cum too. My spare hand wriggled under my trouser waistband, inside my knickers, and down, past my bush, to the hot, wet space beyond.

I found the centre of my need and started to masturbate myself. At the same time, my other hand continued to pleasure Mummy. Both sped up together. I shifted my mouth from her ear to her lips, then pressed against her. Our tongues flicked, tip-to-tip, as we both climbed the hill to orgasm.

My body rolled around, then I found myself half on top of Mummy, my arms and hands squashed between us. Somehow, my fingers stayed in contact with both clitties while we shuddered together. I shouted into the void of her mouth, and I felt the vibration of her voice pulsating into my throat.

Panting and heaving, we lay there together, and when I could catch my voice, the only words I could say or wanted to say were whispered into her ear.

“I love you, Mummy. I love you, love you, more than anyone in the world.”

=

9: Daisy

=

Driving home, crawling along the motorway in heavy rain, my knickers soaked through in the crutch, I pondered the events of the past few days.

On Wednesday afternoon, I invited James for a meal. That evening we made love together; it was beautiful, beyond anything I thought could come my way at my age. An old, flabby woman actually being the object of a man’s desire.

On Thursday morning, I made love to my daughter. Who seduced who? I really don’t know; perhaps it was Lizzy’s doing, but it was an incredible experience, beyond anything else in the whole of my sex life.

Friday morning we sat shopping for sex toys and lingerie together, and then we did it again—two huge orgasms.

How could I make sense of it all? Where did James fit into this jigsaw? I wanted to be with him, have him make love to me again, and possibly build a proper relationship, but Lizzy was taking all my attention and time.

Then, the bedroom clothes she chose. I would have wanted silky, floaty, feminine things, not gaudily coloured shiny stuff. How would I use that vibrating double dildo? Fuck my Lizzy, or would she fuck me? Which one would I prefer, or was I just a pawn in her game, destined to be taken on a journey to a destination I would not want for myself?

Oh, problems, problems, Daisy. Still, I had the weekend to think it all over.

=

Monday mid-day, I was back on the motorway, heading to Lizzy’s to be ready to collect Tim. I usually get there early and do a bit of house cleaning while it’s quiet. About two o'clock, the front doorbell sounded. I opened up to find a large box sitting on the step, and then I looked up at the sound of the delivery van’s engine revving for its trip to the next drop-off.

Bulky but not too heavy for me, I staggered down the hall into the lounge, unable to see my feet as I went. The inevitable happened: I trod on a discarded toy and then pitched forward, throwing the carton away as I grasped for support.

Somehow I managed to control my fall, ending up half standing and hanging onto the sofa arm. The box hit the corner of the TV table and split in half, its contents scattered across the floor.

I looked at the mess of packages and realised this was the result of Lizzy’s online sex shop visit. But there was a lot more than a dildo and two pieces of clothing.

One by one, I gathered up the items, turning them around in my hand to see what they were.

My heart was racing as I realised where my daughter’s sexual proclivities lay. I found the few things we had seen together, but there was so much more. At least a dozen holdup stockings, garter belts, a bondage kit, floggers, an inflatable gag, a hood, all sorts of clamps, a viscous-looking pinwheel, more shiny clothing, and a bundle of leather restraints.

It must have cost a fortune, but who was it to be the subject of bondage? Her or me? Or perhaps someone unknown to me?

I decided the best course of action was to stuff it all back in the carton, repair the ripped area with sticky tape, and avoid any mention of my discoveries to Lizzy.

However, I could not help but think about who, where, and when, even as I walked to the school to collect Tim.

Arriving at the playground, I saw James standing a few metres away from the classroom door. As I approached, he turned and smiled at me. When I stopped next to him, he gave me a gentle peck on the cheek.

“Hello Daisy, lovely to see you again.”

I looked into his eyes, then made a quick decision.

“Hi, James. I was wondering if we could have time later for a talk; nothing about last week. I need some advice. Would you like to come to my home? Say seven thirty, and I’ll cook us a meal.”

“That would be super, Daisy; thank you.”

So I gave him my address and mobile number, just before the door opened and thirty boisterous children poured out onto the tarmac.

=

Later, after she had returned from work, I made my excuses to Lizzy, saying I was tired, and drove home in good time to cook the meal I had promised James.

Almost on the dot, my doorbell rang, and I scuttled along the hall to let him in.

=

10: James

=

Just as she had when we met a week before, Daisy showed her skill as a cook. Although we talked throughout, she seemed distracted, and I was constantly wondering whether this had anything to do with the advice she wanted.

After the meal, she ushered me into her lounge, then brought in a tray with a cafetière and biscuits. We sat, side by side, on her sofa, and then she turned to me and grasped both my hands, squeezing me tight.

“James, we made love together last week. It was beautiful, and I want to do it with you again. But you have fucked my daughter as well. I don’t think you can have us both.”

As I looked into her eyes, I saw the tears well up, and then roll down her cheek. I was utterly floored, lost in the consequences of my stupidity.

“But it gets worse, James—much worse. The morning after you were with me, Lizzy came into bed with me and told me about you having her. And then she seduced me; I had sex with my daughter; she made me orgasm; then I went down on her and licked her. I’m ashamed of myself because I enjoyed it.

What could I do? What could I say? My brain was in a whirl, and Daisy was in floods of tears. Her whole body was wracked with sobs. I leaned towards her, then put my arms around her shoulders and let her misery run its course.

Slowly, the sobbing relented, the constant heaving stopped, and still in my embrace, she found a tissue and started to wipe the tears from her eyes and face.

“There’s more, James. We made love again on Friday morning, and then Lizzy went online shopping, and we chose a sex toy and a sexy body to wear for our next time.”

She turned her face towards me, looking like a lost puppy.

“Help me, James. Help me.”

“Daisy, I can’t think straight at the moment; I need a bit of time to sort this out. I’ll try to help; I want to help you. But there is one thing I can say: I will not have sex again with Lizzy because I want you far more. I need a soulmate again, and you are the only candidate.”

She gave me a wain smile, then pressed her lips against mine, gently probing with her tongue for the entrance into my mouth.

“There’s one more thing. I took in a delivery for her this afternoon, tripped over one of Tim’s toys, and managed to split open the carton. It was all sex toys—not just the few things we had looked at, but a lot more—all bondage gear. I don’t understand that. Who is it for? Is there someone else in her life? Does she want to tie me up or have me tie her up?”

“I have no idea, Daisy. A lot of people like it and enjoy being totally dominated by someone else. You really can only know whether you like it if you try it a bit; it’s like a new food. You have to taste something to know if you enjoy eating it.”

She looked at me, then gave a little nod.

“Have you ever done any bondage, James?”

“No, never, but I’ve seen enough photos and videos to know how it works.

“I want you to do something that will help me understand where Lizzy is going.”

“You want me to make love to you using some bondage ideas?”

“Now, Daisy?”

“Yes, James. Now.”

I stood, then pulled her up and into my body, kissing her passionately and feeling her body respond.

I broke our embrace.

“Come upstairs, slave. You must obey my commands.”

She looked nonplussed, then grinned.

“Yes, Master.”

In the bedroom, I carefully undressed her, playing with her flesh after each item was discarded. Several times she tried to respond, to stroke my hand or arm. Each time, I slapped the offending limb hard.

“Keep your hands to yourself, slutty slave, unless I give you permission.”

I was surprised at the speed at which she entered our role play, almost instantly becoming very submissive. My big problem was that I had no bondage equipment, and it was hardly practical to phone Lizzy and ask to borrow hers.

My first clue was in her discarded clothes. I picked up her tights, then tied her wrists together in front. The two legs hung down from the knot, ready to be used later.

I stood in front of her, then stripped off completely, my shaft pointing towards her, stiff as a board.

“On your knees, slave.”

Wobbling a bit, without being able to use her arms for balance, she kneeled in front of me.

“Suck me, slave.”

Daisy shuffled forward, then opened her mouth and took me inside. I moved closer to her, then pulled her head against my body, forcing my cock deep inside her mouth. I felt her body shaking as she tried desperately to control her gag reflex.

I released her head and stepped back, letting my cock slip from her lips. Daisy gasped deeply, her breathing fast and deep.

“Good slave. Now stand up.”

Swaying gently, she rose to her feet again. I smiled at her, then kissed her harshly, forcing my tongue deep into her mouth for just a few seconds before stepping back.

What next? I wondered.

Then I had a new idea. I rummaged around in a drawer and found an old airline sleeping mask. I stepped back to her and slipped it over her head, lined it up with her eyes, and then gently pressed in to make a better fit. Not enough, I thought. Another rummage and I found an old silk scarf, unused for decades, stuffed into the corner of a drawer. Long enough to go around her head and with enough length for a knot as well.

I stood back and admired my handiwork before guiding her to the bed, then making her shuffle into the centre, lying on her back. I moved the pillows around, took her bound hands, lifted them over her head, and tied the trailing tights around the headboard.

“You are going nowhere, now, slave.”

“Yes, Master.”

I climbed onto the bed, nestled myself between her thighs, then bent forward to prise her pussy lips apart.

Daisy was soaking wet. I smiled to myself, then went all the way in, licking my tongue over her hard clit. She was ready; it took no more than half a minute before she came, her whole body juddering in orgasm.

Then I started again; this time it took her ten seconds to orgasm. On and on, I licked for England, and after every orgasm, the time for her to recover was much shorter than the time to reach orgasm again.

After the eighth, she started to plead.

“Please,...