Like Peaches Ch. 04

Joan woke up and checked the time. 3 am. Susan slept curled under her arm, their legs spooned up together like--well, like lovers. Images of last night's love making filled her mind, and then shame rose up from her belly like a fever.

Oh god.

What had she done?

Joan slipped out of bed as carefully as she could and made her way to the bathroom. She sat down on the toilet to pee, and held herself, rocking, tears rising up, and the heat of shame literally making her skin crawl. Why had she done this? Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. She had had sex with Susan. How could she face her in the morning? This was wrong, wrong, wrong. Then, a memory of Susan's smile as she looked down at her mother's pussy.

Susan will be damaged. They must never speak of this. The taste of Susan's pussy in her mouth, the insistence of her clit under her tongue. Joan shivered, wiped herself-- oh God, she's still so wet--stood up and looked at herself in the mirror.

"You have had sex with your daughter. You are a pervert. You've violated her," she said to bleary-eyed self. And as she heard herself say these self-incriminating words she did not truly believe, her imagination was overwhelmed with the memories. The intensity of her fingers deep in her daughter's vagina, how her nipples stayed hard in her mouth, and the joy of her cries when she came. She came. Susan came from her touch.

Now she was getting cold. Should she go back to bed? Maybe she should sleep on the couch? Oh! the couch, where they first kissed...

Despite Joan's care, Susan had awoken just as her mother slipped from their warm sheets. It took her a few seconds to realize she was in mom's room. And what they had done. She had had sex with her mom. And it was so hot. Susan's body immediately warmed with excitement as the details became clear of where she was and what they had done. Her memories flooded with the sight of her mother's dark eyes, and her full breasts, the feel of her clit under Susan's finger, the sounds of her mother's whispers in her ears. She trembled under the sheets as a bolt of excitement shot through her. She turned and put her arms into the empty place where Joan had lain, and waited for her to return to bed.

By the time Joan returned, Susan had fallen asleep again, but she woke enough to open her arms, and pull Joan toward her. Susan slid her legs between her mother's to hold her close, then closer. She felt that Joan may have pulled back just slightly, but Susan pulled naked warm body close to warm Joan's chilly skin. Holding her tight against her, she felt Joan shudder, and then gasp as she began to cry.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"Oh Susan, what have we done? How could I have done

this?" she whispered desperately.

"Shhhh, shhh, Mom, don't worry." Susan was shocked that her mother would be feeling responsible for anything. Not only did she feel ecstatic to have made love with her mother, but she felt that she had seduced her mom herself.

Joan sobbed into Susan's neck, saying something that Susan couldn't understand.

"Shhhh, shhh, Mom, it's ok. I'm ok." Susan kissed her lips, and kissed her tears. They looked into each other's eyes in the dim light. Susan kissedher face, saying, "It's ok," "Don't worry," and "I love you, I love you," over and over. Susan gave her mother consoling kisses on her face, on her throat. Joan's protests ceased. Susan cupped her mother's breast, and then slid down her body so that she could suck it.

She held her mother's breasts in her hands, and nursed. Just nursed. Joan stopped crying.

Joan held Susan's head, her fingers entwined in her hair, and she wiped away the last of her tears.

"Oh baby girl," she said, looking down as Susan sucked, and nursed, with intensity, at her nipple. Susan stroked Joan's back and settled in to a rhythmic quiet sucking, and Joan relaxed into the pleasure of holding her girl again, being alone in bed with her, comfortable, warm, and surrounded in a bubble of love.

Susan continued to nurse, and Joan dozed. She dreamed of other mothers who made love with their daughters. Of mothers and

daughters who were lovers in every nation, speaking every language, today, right now, and going back to the beginning of history.

Joan shifted a little, holding Susan closer, and Susan turned so that she sucked on Joan's other nipple, and settled again into a rhythmic nursing, nursing, nursing; opening and closing her jaw so that Joan's entire areola was surrounded by her lips. Joan fell back into a dream of mothers and daughters making love everywhere, a secret circle of love and pleasure, where mothers and daughters shared in an unending chain of life, and sex, motherhood and daughterhood melding into complete womanhood where life force and sexual energy flow from vulva to vulva, over and over, healing and strong, down through the generations. A chain of love, sex, and vulnerability binding women generation after generation.

Why is this a taboo? Why do not mothers and daughters share their bodies and their sexual desire as they share grooming, and cooking, and the other household arts? Who would be harmed by this? It is not as if Joan had preyed upon a child who did not know herself. Now that Susan was grown, with lovers of her own, what harm could there be in being lovers with her mother?

Oh girl, Joan thought. You have taught me so much. Susan continued to nurse, and Joan dreamed of many faces of mothers and daughters throughout history. She saw them all, all kinds of faces buried in each other's pussies, all shapes of women, all colors of skin, in the simplest of huts to the grandest palaces, all of them making love. Mothers and daughters open to each other, rising in sexual excitement together, coming into each other's mouths and knowing the ecstasy of sexual love between women who could be no closer.

Who would this harm? Why would this be a taboo? Who would make this a sin and a crime?

As Joan dozed, and dreamed, Susan nursed, and became more and more aware of the excitement that was building inside her the longer she nursed. Joan stroked her shoulders slowly and lovingly, and Susan moved her hands around her mother's body, until her hand moved around her mother's ass, and then inside her legs. As she nursed, she lightly touched her mother's vulva. Susan began pulling harder on Joan's nipple, and Joan opened her legs slightly. Susan's fingers pushed in further, touching her mother's wetness. Her lips parted, and Susan stroked between them, pressing against the opening of her mother's vagina.

Joan's mind separated from the reverie of mothers and daughters as she felt Susan's fingers begin to slowly fuck her. She opened her legs more and Susan began to fuck her deeper and faster as she sucked more sexually on her nipples, moving back and forth between them. Joan moaned, "Oh baby, oh, Susan, fuck me. Oh, I love you, fuck me, Susan. I want it. I need it. "

Susan pulled herself up to her mother's mouth, and continued her powerful fucking of her mother's pussy with her long, strong fingers.

"Mother I can't stop. I need to fuck you, Mom. Oh Mom, you are so beautiful and sexy. She fucked Joan harder, pressing up against the inside of her clit. Joan pulled up her legs, fully open to her daughter's lustful hand. She bore down against her daughter's pounding with her entire body, knowing nothing but the pleasure of the hand stroking her with all of her love and strength.

"Oh, oh Susan, I love you," she said, and came in a throbbing arch of joy,pleasure, and relief, spending out small squirts of her fluids into her daughter's hand.

After the release, Susan, returned to nursing on her mother's breasts, her fingers still cupped around Joan's vulva. Joan wrapped her arms around her, and soon they both slept, any taint of shame purified by the power of their love.