Mother Follows Daughter

My preference is for stories are all about the sex rather than with vast amounts of background, so this is in that vein. The plot is based loosely on a story I read many, many years ago; I don't recall the author or title. I'd love to say this happened to me but that would be ludicrous: the scenario is a sexual fantasy and not meant to be completely realistic.

I was nineteen years old and in my first year at university. Away from home for the first time, I had joined a number of societies and clubs, largely in order to meet new people and make new friends -- particularly female friends. My fellow students and I were free from the shackles of parental control; hedonism was the order of the day and I quickly found that any fears I may have had about sowing my wild oats were unfounded. I was lucky enough to be possessed of a certain charm and no little good looks, and the callow virgin I was at the start of the academic year had, nine months later, transformed into an experienced and, dare I say it, expert lover.

In late May, the debating society of which I was a member was holding its end-of-year dinner party, a somewhat fusty occasion held in the grand hall of the college and requiring attendees to wear formal attire. To be truthful, it wasn't really my kind of event. I hadn't actually attended any of the debates over the course of the year and was only going because I'd been persuaded to by my friend Charlie, who had his eye on a girl who was a leading light of the society.

Come the evening of the event, I was somewhat annoyed when Charlie told me that his hangover from the previous night of excess meant that he wasn't going to be coming after all. I considered dropping out myself, but as I'd paid £30 for my ticket and gone to the trouble of hiring a dinner jacket, I decided to go along. I fully intended just to stay for the dinner and grab my money's worth of booze, before heading back to the hall of residence for a night watching television and perhaps a solitary and unenthusiastic wank.

At around 8.15pm I arrived at the party and found my place at the table, marked by an elegant place card. Most of the other guests had already arrived; looking round I recognised a few faces but there was no-one I'd call a friend or even a close acquaintance. Next to me, on my right, was a corpulent and slightly sweaty fellow who grudgingly noted my attempt to introduce myself and immediately went back to regaling his companion with talk of how he would be joining his father's investment bank after graduation. I resigned myself to an evening of boredom, and hoped that the expensive wines on offer would go some way toward relieving my ennui.

The seat on my left was as yet unoccupied. I looked at the name on the place card:'Lady Lavinia Rogers'. "I hope she does," I thought, but couldn't help but feel disappointed, as she would no doubt have the kind of equine features that my then-prejudiced mind associated with the nobility and what's more, would consider me to be the kind of dreadful oik more suited to cleaning the ancestral ovens than being engaged with in conversation.

Some minutes later the Lady arrived, and immediately I realised that the first of my fears was misplaced -- wildly so. She was stunningly attractive: slim and lithe with hair of a deep auburn shade, that fell in ringlets about her face. And that face! Mouth, nose and eyes almost perfect in form and yet with an other-worldly hint that denied any blandness that that perfection might imply. A smattering of freckles danced across her cheeks and an impossibly cute, but slightly enigmatic smile played across her lips. She wore a dress, which appeared to my untutored eye to be made of silk, burgundy in colour, with thin shoulder straps. My eyes, controlled almost entirely by my libido, noticed that she didn't appear to wearing a bra, but then she had the kind of small but perky breasts that rendered such support unnecessary.

I stood to introduce myself. That smile again, this time with a hint of flirtatiousness?

"I'm Lavinia. Awful name. You can call me Roj," she informed me in unsurprisingly posh tones.

"Very pleased to meet you Roj," I replied, "I'm John," and with that opening gambit, we sat down and started talking.

She, it turned out, had no more interest in formal debating than I did, but her father had been president of the society and his father before him, and it was therefore considered compulsory for her to be a member. Her family was minor nobility -- apparently she was 317th in line to the throne. My suggestion that we plot together to bump off those ahead of her, one by one, was met with more grace than it deserved, and indeed after very little time we were chatting away like long-lost friends. No doubt the food was of Michelin star standard and the wine like nectar but it passed unnoticed, such was the intoxicating liquor of her company. To my pleasure, it was clear that she was as much as enthralled by my company as I was by hers. This was confirmed while we waited for dessert: I felt the touch of a stockinged foot on my leg, and saw that smile flicker across her lips yet again. This time the flirtatiousness was unmistakeable.

"That was you, wasn't it? Or should I be making a move on my neighbour to my right?" I asked, pointing my thumb at the portly banker-in-waiting.

"Why don't we skip dessert, pop outside for some fresh air, and you can find out?" she answered.

I don't need to be asked a question like that twice, and less than a minute later, we were standing outside in the evening air. The street in which we stood was bustling with throngs of revellers and tourists taking advantage of the early-summer warmth, but we were oblivious to them. I looked into her mesmerising azure eyes, held her by her waist and pulled her strongly towards me. Our lips met and we kissed passionately.

Time seemed to stand still. Continents could have formed and re-formed, mountains could have been thrown up and eroded back to sand; I wouldn't have noticed. The taste of her lips was exquisite, the touch of her skin so soft, the feel of her breasts as they pressed against my chest so erotic, that my cock began to spring to life almost immediately. As she felt its hardness against her stomach, her breathing became more hurried, and her embrace tightened around me. Then she pulled her lips away from mine.

"Let's go back to my house," she said, insistently. "My parents are away this evening and we'll have the place to ourselves."

"Your wish is my command, my Lady," I responded -- rather calmly, I thought, considering how rapidly the events of the night had unfolded. I turned round and hailed the first cab that came past. We slid into the back seat and she told the driver our destination, which was a street in one of the more upmarket neighbourhoods in the city.

"Lovely evenin'" said the driver. I began to reply, but got no further than "Certainly..." before Roj had once more clamped her face to mine. I noticed in the rear-view mirror the driver rolling his eyes and smiling. "I'll be as quick as I can", he laughed.

But Roj had no ears for him. Our kissing became yet more passionate, making my cock harder still, so that it strained against the fabric of my trousers. As if she sensed this telepathically, she moved her hand down to touch it, and I almost exploded there and then.

She pulled away from our kiss and moved her mouth to my ear.

"In a few minutes, this is going to be inside my cunt," she whispered.

I didn't believe it possible for my cock to get any harder, but I swear it did on hearing that. I had only known her for two hours and already she was talking to me like that -- was I the luckiest man alive? She then licked my ear and moved her tongue down my neck, setting the hair on my nape on end. Her tongue was like electricity. Not caring about what the driver could see, I slipped one of the straps of her dress off her shoulder and pulled the top of the dress down to reveal her breast. She gasped as I took it in my hand and squeezed it, at first gently but then ever more firmly. I took hold of her nipple, already erect, between my finger and thumb, and toyed with it so that it stood out even more proudly. Her fingernails dug into my back and she began to gently nibble my earlobe.

"'Ere we are," announced the driver, "where d'ya want me ter stop? I could drive round the block a few times if yer like."

"Just here will be fine," said Roj, rather breathlessly, as I clumsily replaced her breast within her clothing. She shimmied out of the car and I followed.

"Cheers mate," I said to the driver as I handed him a twenty. "Keep the change."

"Cheers to you too, guvnor," he replied. "and thanks for the show."

I laughed, but by this time Roj was tugging on my arm, and soon we were climbing up the steps towards her house, an imposing yet elegant four-storey town house which would have had the pound signs spinning in front of any estate agent's eyes. She fumbled for her key in her purse impatiently, although I confess I didn't do much to help as I held her around her waist from behind, dabbed delicate kisses on her exposed neck and shoulders and thrust my raging erection between her pert bum cheeks, the gossamer fabric of her dress providing no protection whatsoever.

Opening the door at last, we more-or-less stumbled inside. Roj threw her purse to the ground and leapt on me once more. Our kisses were, if it were possible, even more passionate than before. We tore ourselves apart from each other just long enough for Roj to take off my jacket, rather violently loosen and remove my tie, and begin unbuttoning my shirt. I was still planting kisses on her cheeks, which were flushed rose-red, almost as if they had been slapped.

As soon as my shirt was off, I had the rather easier job of slipping the straps of my lover's dress from her shoulders and letting gravity do the rest, the dress then forming a magenta puddle on the ground. A vision of beauty, such as I could not have envisaged I would ever see, stood before me. She was not tall, and while slim was not skinny. Her skin was pale, almost creamy, and was made to seem like porcelain by the rich red of her hair. Her breasts were not large -- my not inexperienced eye estimated them as a 32B -- but they stood up proudly, were shaped as if carved by Michelangelo himself and were capped with small but delightfully pink aureoles. Her torso curved inwards to her belly, out again to her hips and had all the athletic and nubile comeliness one would expect from the young woman of nineteen that she was.

I'd hardly had a chance to take in fully this beauty when she leant forward and began kissing, then nibbling on my nipple, the nibbles on the cusp of being painful and all the more erotically charged for being so. I thanked the gods that I had gained so much experience in matters sexual over the previous few months, as had I not I would surely have blown my load in my pants there and then. She proceeded to undo my trousers, and slid them to the floor.

"Get those fucking shoes and socks off!", she whispered frantically, and I obeyed as if my life depended on it.

Now we stood in front of each other, wearing nothing but our underpants. There was a brief pause while we looked at each other, and I saw such a fire of lust burning within her eyes, which I knew was mirrored in my own. Then, without any further words, she grabbed my pants and pulled them down, allowing my rampant cock its freedom at last.

There was a gasp, perhaps of pleasure, perhaps of apprehension. I don't feel that I'm boasting to say that my cock is larger than average, being some 8 inches long and very chunky with it. Was she beginning to regret the forwardness she expressed in the taxi? It appeared not, as she fell to her knees and took my penis in both her hands. Her hands were small and delicate and this served to make my cock seem even larger. Poking out her tongue, she licked the end of my cock, in doing so removing the droplet of pre-cum that was gathering there. She then proceeded to lick all around the head, paying particular attention to under the rim of the helmet and the frenulum. There was no doubt that she had taken time to learn the art of turning a man on -- this was not beginner's luck. As if to confirm this, she looked up at me and smiled -- while still tonguing my cock -- and then drew back and spat a big glob of saliva onto it. This was not the work of an amateur! Using the lubrication she had just provided, she began wanking me with both hands, then alternately removing one of those hands and using it to cup my balls. Again she spat on my cock, looked me in the eye once more, and then greedily began to devour my shaft. The feeling was as intense as any I had ever experienced: my cock seemed to completely fill her mouth, to the extent that I was worried I might injure her, but the act clearly held no fear for her. She took me into her mouth as far as she could -- my cock was too long for someone so small to take in all the way without having first had training from a sword-swallower -- but by God she was trying! Knotting my fingers into her hair, I began -- slowly at first, -- to fuck her mouth. With increasing speed I continued, as she spread my buttocks with her hands and grunted, as well as she could with a mouth full of cock, her appreciation.

It was taking every reserve of my willpower to keep from coming into her open mouth, and she must have sensed this. "Don't you dare come!" she said, pulling away from me, "I need that cock inside me first!"

I needed no further encouragement. I lifted her back to her feet, put my thumbs into the sides of her knickers and slowly pulled them down over her hips as I got down to my knees myself. As I removed them a triangle of pubic hair came into view, but as I revealed yet more it became clear that she had had the hair around her vagina neatly waxed. I pulled the knickers completely off, tossed them to one side and spread her legs slightly, so better to afford access to her swollen and puffy sex. With my fingers I spread her labia, revealing her wetness and exposing her small, pink clitoris. Her pussy was as perfectly formed as the rest of her body -- porn stars would have paid thousands to their Hollywood plastic surgeons achieve this level of shapeliness. I ran my finger between her folds, picking up some of her copious juices and put it to my mouth. "You taste like honey," I told her, and she responded by grabbing my head and pressing my face to her sex. "Lick me then," she commanded.

Holding her firm buttocks in my hand, I began to flick her clit with my tongue, first teasingly, then slowly more firmly. I felt her whole body shiver. Before long I was sucking her clitoris between my lips, pausing only to run my tongue along and across her labia.

"Ooh! Right there!" she moaned, grasping the back of my head and grinding her hips against my face.

I returned my tongue to her clit, which by now was standing proud and moistened by my saliva and her juices, and slipped a finger into her open and willing pussy.

"Oh God!" she exclaimed, "put it in me! Fuck me with your fingers!"

I began to move my finger back and forth within her, slowly probing and feeling her deepest recesses. As my finger rubbed against the ridged wall of her vagina, and my tongue nuzzled her love button, she grabbed my head even more firmly and began to shudder over her entire body.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ I'm coming!" she shouted.

I felt the convulsions of her vagina as she came and I swear I felt a wave of heat against my face as she screamed "Oh my God!" with no thought for what the neighbours might hear.

I stood up and we paused for breath. I held her to me, her delightful breasts pressed against my body and looked into her eyes. Her face, flushed with post-orgasmic ecstasy, looked so pure and innocent that it seemed incredible that such filthy language could have been uttered by her just seconds previously.

"Are you going to fuck me then or what?" she panted.

"I can honestly say that there has never, in my entire life, been anything I would rather do," I responded.

With that I lifted her feather-light body onto the dresser that was stood next to us in the hallway. Grasping her by the thighs I opened her legs and pulled her towards me, so that her pussy was perched at the edge of the dresser. I took my cock in one hand, pressed it against her pussy lips and began to gently rub it up and down. She wrapped her legs around me and pulled me towards her, increasing the pressure I was exerting on her already swollen labia, but she was so wet that my penis was still able to slide across her pussy as though protected by a layer of Teflon.

Releasing me slightly from her grasp, she took my rock-hard cock in her hand and presented its head to the entrance of her vagina.

"I told you that this was going in my cunt, and I'm always true to my word," she said with a wicked grin.

With that she gripped my again with her legs and pulled me towards her, forcing my member into her open and inviting hole. The feeling was remarkable -- it was like I'd had an injection of adrenaline directly into my brain. Her love tunnel was so tight and yet so wet that we were like a freshly-oiled machine as I pistoned my cock in and out of her.

"That's it," she exhorted, "fuck me hard. Make me come again."

I responded by increasing the speed of my strokes, making the dresser shake in time with the little moans that were escaping from her mouth with each thrust. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as I continued to pound her, my hefty balls slapping against her arse.

"Oh god John, that feels so good," she told me, looking me in the eye once more.

I knew that if this carried on for much longer that I would be unable to stop myself from coming, so I picked up her petite body and told her to hold on to me.

"Which way's the living room?", I asked.

She giggled:"The door to your right," and I proceeded to carry her through the doorway and then toward the sofa which sat in the middle of the room.

"Don't drop me!" she pleaded, but I was fit and muscular and her small weight was no burden at all.

With Roj still impaled on my cock I sat on the sofa, which was easier said than done, but the manouevre was carried out without injury, and now she was sitting on me, my full 8 inches inside her. She paused for a while, slowly swivelling her hips as if she was getting my penis to explore every square inch of her insides. Then, putting her hands on my chest for purchase, she lifted herself up, then down again.

"Mmmm. I feel so full," she purred. "I've not had a cock this big before and I fucking love it!"

There is something intensely erotic about a girl talking dirty, and the effect was heightened not only by her butter-wouldn't-melt demeanour but also by her delightfully upper-class accent.

Once again she raised herself a few inches, and then slowly let herself down, rotating her hips a little with each motion. My swollen cock was as big and hard as it had ever been. I took one of those perky tits in each hand and gently tugged on them in time with her movements.

"Keep on doing that," she said, as her thrusts became more rapid.

Her brow was studded with beads of sweat as her speed increased to almost a blur. The stimulation was so intense that it took every reserve of my willpower to stop myself from shooting my jizz deep into her cunt. Eventually I had to take hold of her by her hips and stop her from bouncing on my cock.

"I don't want to come before you do," I told her. "Let's slow it down a little."

With that, I took one of her butt cheeks in each hand and lifted her off me a little, while still keeping the tip of my penis inside her. She leant forward and began nuzzling my neck and planting little kisses on my lips and face, as I spread her cheeks with my hands. Very slowly she gyrated her hips, sending waves of intense pleasure through my cock and balls, but never enough to make me lose my self-control. I took one of my hands away from her bum and put my fingers to her lips, gently prising open her mouth. She sucked and licked my fingers, leaving them wet, while I began tracing the fingers of my other hand up and down the cleft between her buttocks. Initially I stopped short of her anus, but with each downwards movement I got a little closer. Eventually I was touching her arsehole, and each time I did a little shiver convulsed her. Taking my other hand from her mouth, the fingers now sodden with her saliva, I returned it to her arse and placed the tip of my middle finger on her anus. She gave a little gasp. I drew circles around her anus with my finger, occasionally teasing her that I might break the barrier leading into that taboo place.