Katie Loves Her Mom Ch. 02

Story Info
Tending to an injured daughter can lead to so much more.
5.9k words
4.73
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Part 2 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 12/12/2013
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I arrived at the game a few minutes late. A knot of Katie's friends waved me over. Among them were Trevor and Patrick, two good looking guys she sometimes dated, although neither qualified as a steady boyfriend. I joined the group.

Katie was playing catcher. It was a lovely sunny afternoon and as I watched the game and enjoyed the outdoors my thoughts turned to last night. I had already digested the most obvious problem: Katie and I should not be sleeping together, licking each other's breasts, French kissing, and sharing vibrators. More fundamentally, I wondered whether Katie was gay and how I felt about it? I noticed, as if seeing it for the first time, how many of her female friends and teammates were unashamedly butchy. Last night she had initiated the conduct between us. She had never eschewed men, she had regular dates and showed every sign of liking guys. On the other hand, she did not have a regular boyfriend and showed every sign of liking everybody.

I also wondered about myself. Not only had I been aroused last night, I had been aroused all week by my daughter's constant and open masturbation. While I knew my husband's return would help resolve the fire constantly burning between my legs, it was clear that my daughter turned me on. I had always thought my daughter was beautiful, but I had been seeing her with a mother's eye. I was now seeing her as a sexual creature and she was stunning.

Katie went one for three and drew a walk, scored one of her team's seven runs, and played solid defense. In the top of the ninth, with her team up by three, a runner tried to tag up from third on a short, one out, fly to centerfield. Katie took the throw and blocked the plate. The girls collided and went sprawling in the dirt. Katie leaped up, holding the ball in air. It was the third out: game over. The other girls ran over and congratulated her. I suppressed my first urge, to run over and take care of my baby. I would first let her celebrate with her teammates.

I walked over after the girls separated. Coach was looking at Katie's leg, which featured an abrasion several inches long and wide.

Kate saw me. "Mom, whatta ya think. You see that girl smack into me?" She pointed at the girl, who was leaving the field limping, leaning on two teammates. "Oh, wait a minute." She popped up, leaving Coach and I in the lurch, and ran to the girl, comforted her, and finished with a big hug.

She jogged back. I shook my head. "Katie, watching you get hurt worries me to death," and finished with a curse, "I hope your daughter's as impetuous as you are."

Coach had taken advantage of Katie's absence to fetch a first aid kit. Coach, as Katie invariably called her, was in her early 30's. She had short black hair and an athletic, stocky build. I had long thought that with a little investment in her hair and make-up, she could be an attractive woman, but Coach seemed perfectly comfortable as she was.

After a long look at the scrape on the back of Katie's leg, Coach addressed me, her tone confident. "Miss Stepton, it's not as bad as it looks, but you're going to have to help her out. She can't see the wound and if you let have her way she'll be out shooting hoops five minutes after she gets home."

She knew my daughter.

"There's some dirt in it. She should soak in a tub until its soft and the dirt has dissolved. Then irrigate it with Shur-Clens and clean it. Do you have hydrogen peroxide?"

"Yes."

"Use that for the cleaning. Then apply an antibiotic ointment, give it some time to dry, and dress the wound." She fished most of what I would need from her bag.

She turned to my daughter, her stare intense, "Katie, that was a heck of a play you made out there, but we were up three runs. It was unnecessary. Try not to get yourself killed." And then, to reassure her, and accompanied by a pat on the butt, "We need you."

"Yes, Coach."

"And do what your Mom says."

"Yes, Coach."

I was struck, as I had been before, by how my daughter and the rest of the girls seemed to love this woman and her calm take-charge style.

When we got home I directed Katie to my bedroom. The tub there was the biggest and most comfortable. After unpacking I entered the room; the water was running and Katie nonchalantly peeling off her clothes. My effort to organize my thoughts was derailed as last night's event played in my mind. When Katie was naked she poked a toe in the tub to check on the temperature and adjusted the hot water. I looked away, trying to collect my thoughts.

"It's too warm, it'll take a couple of minutes to get right. Mom, can you take a look at me leg, but please don't touch it."

I went down to a knee, steadied myself by putting a hand on Katie's butt, and studied the wound. Coach was right, it looked worse than it was. It would hurt, but there'd be no permanent damage or scarring. When I realized I was squeezing her butt I jerked my hand awat.

"It's gonna sting when you get in the tub, but you'll be okay."

I stood back up and for the second time in two days was staring squarely at my naked daughter. Until the last few days I had managed to see her with the eyes of a mother, transmogrifying this stunning eighteen year old into a little girl. The unabashed adult femininity of the creature before me, now rendered that conjuring act impossible. She was not a beautiful child, she was a beautiful woman.

My daughter noticed my obvious interest. Adopting a strong man pose, arms bent at the elbows, hands in the air, she said, "Do you like what you see?"

"Yes, you're beautiful." I was surprised by the passion in my voice.

She kissed me on the cheek, her breasts touching my arms. "Thanks Mom, I got good genes."

She stepped into the tub. When the abrasion hit the water she squealed, more for effect than anything else. I got up to leave, but she asked me to stay and talk to her. She lay back and closed her eyes, providing me the opportunity to study her exquisite build.

Katie's large breasts had a beautiful round shape. Her nipples, especially compared to her large breasts, were small but with a wonderful rose color that contrasted nicely with the creamy whiteness of her skin. Her powerful rangy body was firm, but except for the arms and shoulders, not obviously muscled. There were a few beauty marks scattered across her breasts and abdomen. She trimmed her pussy hair, which was slightly darker than the blonde hair on her head. While we talked she occasionally dragged her hand across her body, giving out a small happy sigh at the pleasure it brought her.

Watching her I recognized a difference between my daughter and I. Outside of sex, I saw my body as something to be taken care of, to be preserved, more for show than use. My daughter was different. Katie celebrated her physicality. She loved movement, she loved sports and, it was clear, she loved sex. Over the last few days I had tried to say no to her constant masturbation and then to last night's events. My daughter, who seemed to revel in the pleasure her sexuality brought her, probably didn't understand why I wanted to.

My phone rang. I picked it up

"Hello."

"Miss Stepton, this is June Robin."

The voice was familiar, but I didn't recognize the name. The caller discerned my confusion.

"I guess you know me as Coach, Katie's coach."

"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not sure anyone's ever told me your name."

"You're not the only parent who has had that problem. How's our girl doing?"

"Fine at the moment. She's soaking in the tub."

My daughter gestured for the phone. I handed it to her. "Coach. Mom's taking good care of me. I'll be ready for the next game."

"We'll see, but if you you'll play outfield. We don't want you to open that thing back up."

"Wherever I'm needed. Thanks for calling. You're the best."

She handed the phone back to me.

"Miss Stepton."

"Please, call me Lois."

"Yes, Lois. If it's okay with you please send the principal an e-mail allowing Katie to visit with me at lunch tomorrow. By that time she'll need the dressing changed and with your permission I'd like to do so."

"Will do, Coach."

"Please, you can call me June."

"Thank you, June."

"One last thing, when you're cleaning and dressing the wound it's easy to splatter the dressing. I've learned the hard way what that can do to your clothes. You were dressed very nicely at the game today. You may want to put on a robe or something disposable."

"That's a good idea. I hadn't thought of it."

"If you had tidied up as many scraped girls as I have had, you would. And remember, if you need anything, call."

"Will do, and thanks for calling."

I left the room to put on a robe. When I returned my daughter was standing and stretching. Water dripped from her breasts, her ass, her privates. It was a stunning sight. My daughter noticed me checking her out.

"Like what you see, Mama?"

"Katie, I just can't get used to the fact you've grown up."

Katie smiled and turned her back to me, presenting the scrape and her ass. I perched on the edge of the tub to irrigate and clean the wound. Memories of last night filled my mind. I tried to focus on the cut, but I was fast becoming aroused. I needed to finish and shuffle Katie off to her room so I could use my vibrator.

After I dabbed hydrogen peroxide on the surface, I handed Katie a towel. Standing naked before me she dried herself off, seeming to focus (or was it my imagination) on her breasts and pubes. I realized I was staring at her, making no effort to hide it, when she said, "Coach said we should let it dry before putting on the bandage. I'm going to lay down." Before I could answer she strode out of the bathroom, her fine ass rotating back and forth, and flopped face first on my bed.

"Mom, I got a few sore spots from the collision. If I promise to do the dishes for a week would you rub my back?"

"Well, I'd probably do it for free, but I can't turn that offer down."

Initially I focused on her upper arms and shoulders. Her grunts told me when I found the right spots. After about twenty minutes, my hands tiring, I stopped and inspected the wound. It had dried. I applied the bandages. After I did so Katie asked me to massage her undamaged leg. I started working at her knee and moved upward to her thigh. Soft appreciative purring replaced her grunts. Then the unmistakable scent; she was aroused. Confused, I stopped, but she pleaded employing the voice of a little girl, "Please Mommy, it feels so good." I began again. I was within inches of her pussy when she started, subtly, almost imperceptibly, humping the bed. I could see moisture on her pussy hairs and, who was I kidding, feel my own flow increase.

I was staring at her crotch. Later I realized she was watching me in the vanity's mirror. She said, "Mommy, please use the vibrator on me," and pointed at it on the night stand next to my bed. I wanted to be firm, but my voice was uncertain and tentative, "Katie, I'm not sure we should do this."

"But Mommy, I need it so bad."

She turned to face me and ran her hand gently down my side, brushing against the side of my breast. Goosebumps flared over my body. She then reached for the vibrator, flipped it on, and handed it to me. She lay back on the bed and said, in a soft sweet sexy voce, "Please."

My resistance was disintegrating. What harm could there be in a little play? I could always say no before we went to far. I ran it down the length of her spine.

"Is this what my little girl wants?"

"Oh, yes Mommy."

I dragged it along her flanks, slowing at the sides of her breasts, which were mashed against the bed.

"Are you sure?'

She quivered and whispered, her voice full of need, "Oh yes Mommy."

I ran the vibrator across her ass and then along her inner thighs. Katie's body was shaking with need. I knew I should stop and tried to get a hold of myself, but when Katie slowly lifted her torso from the bed my mouth went dry. I swallowed and ran the vibrator along her breasts, approaching, but not quite reaching, her nipples.

"Are you sure you're sure?" I teased.

She responded in kind. "Oh yes, Mommy, puhleeze."

She knew I was hooked. She angled her butt upwards and I reached under her, touching her between her anus and vagina. Aided by the flow of her juice, the vibrator glided across her skin. I slid it over the face of her vagina. She raised her knees and I ran it in a deliberate, lazy, figure-eight pattern on her labia. She moaned and pulled her knees further under her, rasing her body and giving me unimpeded access.

I wanted to watch. I lay on the bed and stared at the rosy wet lips of my daughter's pussy. The pubic hairs were matted together and glistened. I used the vibrator on her vagina which soon, seemingly at my command, winked open and shut. It had been years since I had an intimate view of another woman's aroused sex. My husband had often said how he loved just looking at my hot cunt and now I understood why. A woman's privates were an incredibly sexy, incredibly responsive place.

I explored my daughter, running the vibrator on and around her vulva and vagina, along her labia and inner thighs, and returning to the skin between her vagina and butt. She was gasping and groaning. With a new found ambition I determined to become expert in pleasing her, trying to remember how she responded to the varying pressures and places I visited.

As I continued I increased the pressure. Katie loved it; she rotated her hips and groaned, "Nggggghhhhhh, unhhhhhhhhh, enhhhhhhhhhhhh."

I turned the power on the vibrator up a notch and resumed my exploration. Katie became more assertive, moving her ass and hips, using them to control and guide my movements. My beautiful daughter understood her own body; she made sure I visited the places that most craved attention.

And then she spoke in a voice straining too hard with sexual need to be disobeyed: "Mommy, my clittie, do my clittie."

Concerned that the vibrator would be too intense for direct application, I approached the button cautiously, running the vibrator around and above her clitoris in circles. She was gasping and groaning, pushing herself against the machine. I saw her face in the vanity's mirror, eyes shut, hair disheveled, she was focused on what was happening between her legs. Her breasts, the flushed red nipples erect and hard, hung below her, swaying with her movements.

Her grunts became shorter and tighter. Her distended nipples stood at attention and she lowered herself to her elbows, capturing the nipples between her fingers. She looked back at me. Her lips were slightly parted, revealing her perfect white teeth. I pulled aside the hood of her clitoris and touched its edge with the vibrator. Katie grunted and then, without warning, arched her back and rocked forward, bringing the vibrator into direct contact with her clitoris.

"Oh gooodddddd, Mommmmmmy." She released a breast and reached between her legs, covered my hand with hers, mashed the vibrator into her clit, inhaled, and started shaking, shouting in an otherworldly voice, "Oh god, oh dear god, I am cuummmmming."

Her body violently convulsed. She tottered, as if about to fall, and lowered her shoulder to he bed, turning her head towards the wall. She kept her hand clamped over mine, moving the vibrator against herself. Her muscles, which tightened and relaxed, accentuated her powerful athletic frame. Finally she released my hand and her upper body sank to the mattress. She mumbled, "So good, so good, Mommy," while spreading her legs and letting her butt descend to the bed.

I was mesmerized by this display of raw sexuality. My daughter knew how to make her body feel good, knew how to find the joy that lay there, and had every intention of doing so.

Still gasping in delight, she turned her face towards me. She looked as if she had glimpsed Nirvana: her face was soft and her eyelids heavy and slightly lowered. She wore a broad lazy smile. She motioned me towards her, the movement of her arm indolent and uncoordinated. I lay next to her. She kissed me gently on the lips and sank into the mattress. And then, as I watched her body rising and falling in time with her breathing, I was consumed by the burning need between my legs. I rolled on to my back and brought the vibrator, coated with my daughter's juices, to my cunt.

Fascinated by how well Katie understood her own body, I closed my eyes and methodically explored myself with the toy, roaming over my labia, my clit, the mouth and lips of my vagina, down my thighs, and then to my asshole, savoring each sensation. When I returned to my vagina, touching it lightly, the mattress moved. My daughter was shifting positions. Her hand was on mine, moving the vibrator away from my sex. I opened my eyes; she was kneeling between my legs with a wide smile on her face. "I can do better than that thing." She slid her index finger an inch or two inside me. "Nice and wet. Mama, I'm gonna rock your world."

After she gave my vagina a few light, teasing strokes she brought her finger to her mouth and licked off my nectar. "You're deelish, Mom." She again coated the finger and moving forward, straddling my body, dragging her heavy breasts across my chest, offered it to me.

"Katie, I'm not sure...."

"Mom, I am. We'll talk later. For the next little bit you belong to me."

When she again brought her finger to my mouth I accepted it, cleaning it with my tongue, enjoying my own sweet fruity taste.

She moved back down, stopping briefly to lick and kiss my breasts before nibbling her way down my stomach. As she did so she again dragged her breasts across my skin; I shivered at their heavy firm feel, enjoying their weight against my skin.

She passed over my sex and instead kissed a knee, munched up my leg to my vagina's edge, returned to the other knee and noshed her way back up. There had been a voice in my head urging me to go no further, but my daughter's teasing had soon super-charged my libido and pure lust, desire, and love drowned any remaining reluctance. I wanted my daughter's face buried in my sex, I needed her to lick me there. When she approached my vagina again I raised my hips, offering her my sex, but she returned to my knee. God I was hot; I craved her mouth on me. Did I need to beg?

I lifted my head from the mattress, looking at the top of her head, and reached down to touch her cheek, "Please baby....."

She looked up at me and smiled; her eyes were playful. She slowly ran her tongue over her full lips and moved up until her face was inches from my sex. She waited a beat or two, as if she was having second thoughts, and then blew some air on my clit, sending shivers up my spine. I grabbed the bed spread and shoved my vagina up towards her face, groaning, "uuuuunnnnhhhhhhhh...." She spread my legs wide, set her tongue just above my anus, and licked firmly, but ever so slowly, from there to the fur above my clitoris. Her fervid, licentious, moans joined mine. She repeated this long sensual lick, maybe a baker dozen times. I pushed myself against her tongue and whenever she reached my clitoris let out a sharp gasp before melting back into the bed.

I was burning up; I was desperate; I needed more, "My clit, baby, my clit."

This time she did not tease. She ran her hands up my sides and took hold of my breasts, wrapped her lips around my clittie, and, creating a vacuum, sucked it into her mouth. Her tongue worked over the button, sometimes touching it hard, sometimes surrounding it with teasing swirling circles, sometimes licking it with short fast strokes. And then, just when I thought I could take no more, she spit out my clittie and licked circles around it before turning her focus to my labia and the mouth of my vagina. I was panting, delirious with need. She released my breasts, spread open the lips of my vagina, and tongue fucked me. The fire between my legs erupted in fury. I took hold of my breasts and squeezed my nipples hard.

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