With lots of help from my parents, I raised Becky myself. She turned out beautifully, an intelligent, sweet-natured girl with a delicious sense of humor, lovely as an April morning.
Our relationship is very different from that of most mothers and daughters, though. Most people wouldn't understand the special love that Becky and I share, but I consider myself blessed.
I know and have known for a long time that I'm sexually attracted to younger women, and have spent many late night hours pleasuring myself to fantasies of cute, nubile teenagers. I had a large collection of lesbian pornography on my computer, nearly all of it featuring teen girls -- especially erotic stories and photos of them engaged in love play with older women, which never failed to make me hot.
I suppose it was inevitable that one day I would find myself aroused at the sight of my own daughter, and sure enough, I was soon experiencing a strong sexual hunger for Becky, especially those times when she was in shorts or a skirt, exposing her lovely legs. Once in a while I got a glimpse of her in the nude, a sight that always left me dizzy with desire.
Before long, Becky was finding her way into my masturbation fantasies. I brought myself to orgasm many times while imagining the two of us, naked and in bed together, sharing our bodies as lovers do. Of course, I'd never have dared to act on these desires, settling instead for collecting dozens of lesbian mother and daughter stories from the internet, which I stashed in a large file with the rest of the erotica on my computer.
Then one day, while she and I were spending a day at our cabin in the hills, my girl Becky took the initiative that changed our relationship forever.
We were sharing a large blanket in the back yard behind the cabin, taking the sun. I wore my sexiest bikini, pleased that I could still fit into it at thirty-seven, with the top unfastened in back so I wouldn't have lines.
Becky had on a barely-there suit that was practically scandalous; nothing more than a few tiny bits of cloth, leaving her ass more or less bare. The sight of her had me tingling all over, and I was toying with the notion of slipping indoors for a short while to indulge in a little furtive masturbation, perhaps peeking out of the bathroom window at her while I got myself off.
It was then that Becky suddenly broke into my reverie by sitting up, studying me for a moment and declaring, "You need some more oil on your back, Mom. Want me to put it on for you?"
Delighted, I replied, "Aw... that's sweet of you, hon." I felt a prickle of excitement at the thought of Becky touching my bare skin.
She knelt beside me, squirted a generous shot of coconut-scented oil into her hands and vigorously rubbed them together, then got to work on my upper back and shoulders.
Her touch felt wonderful. I allowed my imagination to drift and my illicit desires to make themselves known, image following lewd image like X-rated flash cards in my mind:
My naked daughter, proudly displaying her body to me, cupping her luscious breasts with both hands.
The two of us locked in a lover's embrace, our mouths crushed together in a soul kiss, her legs wrapped around my ass.
My face buried between her thighs, Becky's fingers tangled in my hair as I licked her shaved slit.
Becky and I gently entwined, bodies flushed and glistening in the aftermath of lovemaking.
These visions battered my consciousness, taunted me, made me want things I shouldn't.
My craving only intensified when I felt Becky's hands move down my slippery body to cup my buttocks. The suit I wore didn't cover much of me, so there was plenty for her to touch -- and touch she did. I felt warm, thick fluids pooling inside me, and prayed that my daughter wouldn't see the evidence of arousal through those thin bikini bottoms.
I was taken aback when Becky asked me to turn over, but hesitantly began to do as she said, clutching my unfastened bikini top to cover myself. Then, as I settled onto the blanket, she deftly plucked away the top and cast it aside, baring my breasts.
I was shocked and, truth be told, more than a little bit thrilled to be topless in front of my daughter. There was something in Becky's smile that told me how much she had wanted to do that, to undress me. And that was when I really began to get excited.
As I watched Becky through my sunglasses, losing myself in a mixture of confusion and sexual heat, she poured more oil into her hands and worked it into my shoulders, kneading the muscles... then slowly, carefully, her hands slid down to cover my breasts.
I knew that I should stop her, but didn't -- I couldn't!
Becky wasn't just anointing my breasts, either. She was caressing them, lightly teasing my nipples with oil-coated fingers. It seemed too absurd for words, but I swore I could read desire in Becky's eyes as she felt me up. I couldn't help but moan, overcome by my daughter's touch -- and when she smiled, I knew that she'd planned for me to respond that way.
I was quivering inside, heart pounding frantically. Was my teenage daughter really coming on to me?
She slowly worked her way down to my bikini bottoms, rubbing the sweet-scented oil into my tummy. My pussy was so wet that I was certain Becky could see it through my suit by now.
Then my daughter grasped the waistband of the suit -- the last barrier between me and stark nudity. "Raise your butt, Mom," she cooed, gently tugging.
I knew what I should have done right then: sit up and ask my daughter just what the hell she was up to, and stop this insane thing that was happening between us before I completely lost control.
But I didn't. God help me, I wanted to be undressed by Becky, needed her to see me naked.
Without a word I lifted my ass, and with a little squeak of delight Becky slipped my suit down and off. Now completely nude, pulse racing, I waited to see what my daughter would do.
She began to work the oil into my legs, starting just above the knees and moving slowly upward. I whimpered as her fingers caressed the soft skin of my inner thighs, mere inches from my aching sex. I could no longer conceal my excitement from her, breathing, "Oh, m-my angel... oh, yessss," as my body shivered and twitched on the blanket, made helpless by my daughter's touch.
Then Becky placed a hand on my vulva, and I inhaled sharply. She only giggled. "Oooh, Mom... you're all wet!"
I couldn't respond -- but then, at that instant, my lips were incapable of shaping words. I could only gape at my child in disbelief.
Then Becky drew her hand away, except for one finger that she slowly, oh God so slowly trailed down the length of my slit. I saw raw lust written on my daughter's face, clear as day. Trembling from head to toe, I whispered "H-h-honey..."
She pushed two fingers inside my vagina, penetrating me with a single smooth stroke.
I came instantly, emitting a strangled cry while a jolt of pleasure surged though my body like a blast of electrical current. My hands clutched helplessly at the blanket while Becky's wonderful fingers squirmed about inside me, driving my ecstasy to unimaginable heights.
Finally I lay panting, body vibrating like a struck tuning fork as Becky withdrew her hand from between my quivering thighs. I opened my eyes in time to see my daughter bringing those wet fingers to her lips. I couldn't say a word, just stared as she sucked them into her mouth, tasting my essence. She grinned. "Mmmm... delicious."
Then her expression became soft, dreamy. She reached behind to untie her bikini top and let it fall to the ground, then stood to slip her bottoms down to her feet and step out of them.
Now naked, she knelt beside me, reaching out to take off my sunglasses. "I love you, Mom," she whispered, her eyes warm with adoration as she bent to kiss me.
Becky's soft mouth brushed against mine in a very tantalizing way. Then her tongue slipped between my parted lips, and the kiss became heated and passionate.
Believe it or not, that instant was when it hit me with blinding clarity: my seventeen-year-old daughter was making love to me! As I saw it, the way Becky had undressed me and fingered my cunt could be chalked up to girlish experimentation. But this ardent French kiss left no room for doubt about what she really wanted.
I'd given birth to Becky; nursed, diapered, comforted, amused, taught and disciplined her. Now a newly ripened woman, she was giving me the most precious of gifts: herself.
I knew that what we were doing was wrong, I really did. But Becky had been my most secret, most obsessive desire for at least a year, and the knowledge that she wanted me as well was too much for my morality to overcome. All I could think about was the joy that she and I could share as lovers, and how much closer this new relationship might bring us.
Furthermore, it was obvious that Becky had done this kind of thing before -- and knowing that my darling girl was experienced in sapphic love made me all the more eager to explore these forbidden pleasures with her.
I began to respond to my daughter's kiss, my own tongue shyly emerging to meet hers. Soon enough Becky and I were kissing hungrily, losing ourselves in the delicious madness of incest. I had never been so sexually excited in my life.
She climbed on top of me, her mouth never leaving mine. We continued to share hungry kisses, our oiled bodies sliding and slipping together.
