A Mother's Touch Ch. 01

My name is Deanna and I am the mother of two wonderful children, Lisa and Jason. Both attend college, but Lisa still lives at home with me as her college is close to where we live. Jason visits when he can, but it is never as often as I would like. They are both involved in several sports, just like their father was before his passing. I enjoy watching sports, but have never had any desire or talent to play anything physically demanding the way my family does.

Lisa received most of her looks from her father. Her shoulder length red hair and green eyes are definitely from him, as is all of her facial features. She is even an inch taller than me, which is identical to my husband. It seems like the only thing we physically share is our breast size, which happens to be a C cup. Of course, as with any woman my age, they are just starting to get stretch marks from gravity. It isn't anything my daughter has to worry about for quite some time.

Jason received most of his looks from me. He shares my brown hair, which he keeps short like his father did, and has my brown eyes. We even share the same height. He has all of my facial features and there is no denying he is my son. In fact, the only thing he seems to have gotten from his father is his athleticism.

When my husband passed, I wanted to lock myself inside my room and never leave. It was my children who managed to get me past the darkness that threatened to completely overwhelm me and eventually to the point of being able to smile again. I miss him terribly, but the family has grown much stronger since losing him. My children managed to put aside all their petty squabbling in order to pull me from my darkness and they never returned to those idiotic fights over nothing.

Lisa is going to be home late, since she is starting practice for some new sport at school. Between the two of them, I have lost track how many sports related activities they are involved in. I think she said track, but I could be a ways off on that one. Neither of my kids get upset with me when I can't recall what they are doing at any given time, since they are both fully aware that there are just too many to keep it all straight. As long as I show up to some of their events, they are both satisfied.

I decide to take advantage of her delay by taking a much needed bath. I am in my bedroom and remove all of my clothes, then look at my body in the large mirror on the wall. At forty years of age, most of my body still looks good, but there is no hiding the sagging of my ass to match my tits. I look down and inspect my pubic area to determine if there is any trimming needed and find not one brown hair sticking too far out. I started trimming down there for my husband shortly after getting married and never bothered to stop. It's my way of honoring his memory.

I start to turn towards my attached bathroom, but a noise at the front door stops me. It sounds like someone is trying to turn the knob to see if it is locked and I am worried. I have never been the victim of a theft and have little interest in starting today. I make my way to the phone next to my bed so I can call for help quickly and hear the front door open. A woman's voice calls out and I realize exactly who it is. Well, so much for my bath.

Lisa calls out, "Mom, where are you?"

I breathe a sigh of relief and say, "In my room. Why are you home early from practice, Lisa?"

I hope I can still take a much needed bath. Generally, when she gets home early, it means practice has been cancelled. However, there is always the possibility of some minor injury. I swear, between the two of them, I have more than my share of sports related injuries.

She calls back, "Hurt myself at practice and coach sent me home."

Well, at least it isn't a call from the hospital, meaning nothing broken. I know a bath is completely out of the question now and start to walk out my room. I realize I am completely naked, so I grab a robe and tie the front quickly before making my way to the living room. She is sitting on the couch and the angle enables me to see she is wearing her athletic shorts and a t-shirt. There is no missing the grimace on her face, which I can just get a glimpse of her profile and I know there is something causing pain to course through her body. My nose catches the scent of something pleasant mixed in with her sweat and I wonder if she found a new perfume.

I move so I am standing directly in front of her and ask, "What happened, Lisa? Are you alright?"

She winces a little as she rubs her calf and says, "No, mom. I think I might have sprained my muscle. It really hurts."

At least we're not dealing with a torn one, so it won't take long for her to heal up and get back to school on Monday. As far as I can recall, she doesn't have any games this weekend, so she will have the entire time to rest and heal before doing anything physical. I move closer catch a strong scent of body odor that is emanating from my daughter along with whatever she is wearing, but have grown very used to things like that. It stopped bothering a long time ago, since I have been dealing with unpleasant smells from my extremely active children for a great many years.

I ask, "Is there anything I can do to help?"

She groans through the pain and says, "Cut the damn thing off and give me a new one. This hurts like hell." She tries to laugh, but the pain prevents her from doing so.

I say, "Instead of cutting it off, maybe all you need is a good massage."

Lisa nods and winces a little, then says, "A massage sounds good, mom. Damn, my whole body is killing me."

I look at her with sympathy, since I have been there myself on far too many occasions and say, "Let me help you into my room and get these disgusting clothes off of your body. You can lay on my bed and I can give you a proper massage."

She has a questioning look on her face as she asks, "Why can't you just give my calf muscle a massage? That way I won't have walk any further on this damned thing." As an afterthought, she asks, "Why do I need to take all my clothes off for a massage?"

I maintain my very real look of sympathy and say, "You said your whole body is sore. I can't massage your body, if your wearing clothes. As for massaging you here, there isn't enough room on the couch and the floor's not anywhere near as comfortable to lay on as my bed."

She thinks it over and asks the oddest thing, "Mom, why are you wearing a robe?"

My look of sympathy vanishes a little as she reminds my of what I had planned, then say, "For your information, Lisa, I was getting ready to take a bath, but you got home early. So I don't get a bath right now. Thank you very much for that."

She gives a sheepish grin and says, "Sorry, mom. A massage sounds really good right now. But I can wait for you to take a bath."

I shake my head and say, "I think you need a massage a lot more than I need a bath. If we don't start working your muscles now, they are just going to get worse."

She winces from the pain and says, "OK, mom, but I offered. Thanks. I can really use a massage right now."

I say, "Don't mention it, Lisa. It's all part of being a mother."

I hold out my hand to help her up, but she does not take it right away. Instead, she asks, "Should I take a shower first? I don't smell all that great right now."

I have dealt with far worse, so I say, "You're right, you don't. But I've smelled a lot worse things, like your brother. You can always take one after. Don't worry about stinking up my room, because I can always wash the sheets and use some air freshener. Now let's go, young lady."

I continue to hold out my hand and she reaches up to take it. She uses it to pull herself up and places her arm behind my neck in order to ease the pain. With her arm around me I can smell the pleasant odor a little stronger and wonder if it is deodorant instead of perfume The walk to my bedroom is a clumsy one, but I would rather than have her refrain from any unnecessary pressure on her muscle.

We reach the edge of my bed and I say, "Let me help you out of your shorts. It'll be a lot easier now, then when you're lying there."

She asks, "What about my shoes. Can't get my shorts off over them."

The pain is making it difficult for her to think clearly, so I say, "No, Lisa, I can't. But I can get them down to your ankles and then remove them after taking off your shoes."

Through a painful grunt she nods in agreement and I get down onto my knees in order to untie the string that is holding her shorts in place. She puts one hand on my shoulder for balance and waits for me to do what is needed. I move slowly as I pull them down to bring as little discomfort as possible and ensure that I get her panties with the same movement. As my nose gets close to her sweaty body I find the pleasant scent to be much stronger.

I can't help seeing what is right in front of my face and wish I wasn't looking at Lisa's trimmed red bush. There is no missing something like that when it stands out quite clearly against her pale flesh. I get her shorts and panties down to her ankles and stand without mentioning a word to my daughter, even though I am a little curious to know if she is does it for herself or some unknown boyfriend.

I say, "Alright, Lisa, sit down on the bed and take off your shirt. I'll take care of everything else."

She grunts from a new wave of pain as she nods and I wish there were something more I can do for her to ease the suffering. She sits on the edge of my bed with my help and starts to remove her shirt and bra. I get on my knees to remove her shoes and find my eyes looking between her legs and don't really know the reason for it. Not that it matters, since her legs are close enough to thoroughly conceal everything.

I remove her shoes and socks as gently as I can to prevent any unnecessary pressure on her calf, but the cautious action leads to me spreading her legs just barely enough for me to make out the lining of her pussy lips. I cannot understand why my eyes won't move somewhere else. I remove her shorts and panties with every bit of caution I can manage and find her legs spread even further and I find something oddly pleasing seeing more than some vague outline. The pleasant odor is definitely getting stronger.

I shake my head in an attempt to bring some sense back into me and stand up with great effort. My eyes cannot miss her breasts and I think back to the time before the sagging started. I used to have perfect ones, just like my daughter and I know she is going to hate gravity in about a decade. I look my daughter in her eyes with a sympathetic face, but her spread legs are engraved on my brain. Why do I keep thinking about that?

I say, "Alright, Lisa, go ahead and lay down on your stomach so I can work the calf. Figure I'll start there and work my way up. OK?"

She says, "OK, mom. Damn this hurts."

I smile and say, "I imagine so, now hurry up and lay down so I can get started already."

She lays on her stomach without putting any pressure on her calf and I can see the beads of sweat that are escaping her body through her pours. It causes her well toned body to glisten in the light and my eyes look over her with just a touch of lust in them. They are drawn to her pear shaped cheeks that seam far more perfect than any woman should ever have and I find myself to be a little jealous. I know I shouldn't be jealous of any part of my daughter's body, but cannot help how I feel and I suppose all mothers feel that way at some point.

I look down at her ankles and realize her legs are way to close together for me to give an effective massage, so I say, "Spread your legs a little, Lisa. I won't be able to work your legs well if you keep them close together."

She gives a muffled sound, which I think means OK, as her head must be buried into my pillow. She spreads her legs far more than is needed and I have little doubt it is due to having no interest in moving them again, at least not until I finish with her legs. My eyes are still concentrating on her cheeks and I cannot look away from such perfection.

I manage to move my head down and focus my eyes on the calf that is causing her to go through this pain. I reach out and tenderly touch the area, which causes her to let out a soft grunt. Knowing this will not be pleasant, but absolutely necessary, I start to work the muscle while she lets off muffled grunts and groans of extreme pain. I loose track of time, but work on it long enough for the pain to start subsiding.

I have no idea why I do it, but I move my face close to her calf and find the pleasant odor is coming out of her pours. I press my lips lightly to her flesh and then my tongue presses against her flesh. The flavor of her sweat is something I enjoy greatly as I explore every inch of skin surrounding her calf.

She is completely oblivious to the feeling of my lips and tongue, so I start on her other calf immediately with my hands and tongue. Then slowly work my way up her legs and hear the muffled grunts and moans as she feels her muscles getting the attention they desperately need. My fingers reach her inner thigh and I take my time with each side as I get very close to both of her holes. Her holes which remain mostly hidden from my view and I have a dark desire to see them both. I also know I can't rush anything, so I continue to work my hands and tongue slowly. There are not many grunts as I work her muscles, but a great deal of moans.

I move my hands up to start on her perfect cheeks and put my face very close in the process. I inhale deeply and find there is something even more pleasant about the odor. She continues her moans as I work her ass and does not notice my breath on her cheeks. I press my lips to one of them and find she is completely unaware. I lick my lips and find the salty mixture that has built up on her to hold an even more pleasant flavor.

My lips start to make contact with both cheeks and I don't miss a single spot. Whatever has come over me, just kissing her cheeks is not enough to satisfy my craving. I start to use my tongue in place of my lips and find the taste to be a little better. I have no idea how Lisa can remain so blind to what I am doing, but I have not exactly stopped working her ass with my hands. The massage must be doing a great job covering what my tongue is doing.

It's time for me to stop pretending, so I spread her cheeks enough to see the pale flesh of her crack and partly visible asshole. Starting at the top of her crack, I carefully clean the flesh with my tongue and love what I taste. As I work my tongue on the flesh of her crack, my fingers continue to massage away while my hands hold the separation in place. There has been no grunt of pain in a while, but there are several muffled moans to show she is enjoying everything about this situation.

Once I have cleaned all that her crack will give me, I pull my head up and look to where her asshole remains mostly hidden. I throw caution to the wind and position my hands close to her crack at the base of her ass and spread her cheeks apart a great deal further. She grunts from the discomfort of having her asshole spread, but does nothing to stop me. I see the ridges encircling her tight asshole and despite the pressure of my hands it is still too damn tight.

I adjust my head to ensure my tongue is in a good position and quickly make contact with that wonderful hole of hers. The taste of her sweat is there, but I also find something pleasantly bitter to go along with it. My daughter shows no sign of wanting this to stop, instead she lets out a moan to show she is enjoying what my tongue is doing. That is more than enough encouragement for me, not that I care about encouragement right now, and start to work my tongue around her hole. Every ridge brings a new sensation to both of us as the moaning gets more regular and I can only guess how loud she might be if not for the pillow serving to muffle everything.

After encircling her amazing asshole several times I find the bitterness to lessen greatly and I miss it far to much to let it stop now. I move my tongue up so it is centered perfectly and enjoy the new sensation as I slowly press my tongue against the opening. There is no give at all, only the clenching to prevent anything from entering, which will not do at all. I force my tongue again and again find no entry into her black hole that I must have.

I pull my head back in frustration and readjust my hands in order to spread her cheeks further. She lets out a muffled groan from the discomfort I am bringing to her as I spread with all of my might, but my daughter continues to do nothing to stop me and I see her dark hole spread open a little. This is enough to fulfill my desire and I force my tongue inside just as far as I can. My tongue is rewarded with that wonderful bitterness and I don't want this to stop. She moans from the pleasure I am giving her and I start to move my tongue to mimic a fucking action. My tongue finds new flavors with each thrust inside and the feeling of it moving inside of her adds to the pleasurable sensation coursing through my body.

The taste of her bitterness comes to an end far too quickly and it is no longer enough to quench this dark fire burning inside of me. The darkness serves as my guide as I remove my tongue from her asshole and release her cheeks, which causes me to lose sight of her glorious asshole. I get out of bed, while staring at her perfect ass, but I know I must look away to get to something far better. I quickly remove my robe and drop it to the floor without caring the location of the landing. I position myself so I can act quickly when I have her turn to lay on her back as I am now looking at the back of her red hair. I think carefully to ensure I have missed nothing, at least I think as clearly as I can with this overwhelming darkness driving me to action. I have to have my daughter's pussy and I need to feel her tongue on mine.

With tremendous boldness, I say, "I think that's enough working on your ass. Turn over so we can sixty-nine."

She mumbles something into my pillow and nods in agreement, then turns quickly so she can lay on her back with minimal discomfort from her calf muscle. Moving quickly I throw my knees around her in order to pin her arms so she can't change her mind and I feel her hair against my thighs, which means there is only one thing she is seeing and that is my very wet pussy. Whatever this darkness is that has come over me, I have no intention on stopping now as my desire is far too great.

Lisa says, "Your pussy is beautiful, mom. I've wanted this for a long time."

I lower myself a little and say, "I'm glad to hear it."

She says, "Lower your pussy some more, mom. I want you to mmmppphh..."

She is unable to continue as I lowered my wet pussy onto her mouth and it sends ripples of pleasure coursing through me. I can hear her breathing, but it is not easy and I know I can use that to my advantage. I lower my pussy even further and she starts to struggle for air, which adds greatly to the pleasure I am feeling. She tries to move her arms and legs to get me off of her, but I am very well positioned and her struggle is without any hope of success.

I raise my pussy off of her face just a little and she gags for air, while I say, "Right now, I don't care that you're my daughter. All I care about if feeling your tongue on my fucking clit." My voice leaves little room for doubt.

She continues to gasp, then says, "Lower it mmmppphh..."

Once again my pussy muffles her voice and her breathing is very difficult. She knows that I can cut off her oxygen at any moment, but she seems to be enjoying it greatly. This time, I lower myself and hold even longer and wait for her movements to die down a little. Each little movement she takes with her head sends vibrations coursing through my body and I have the darkness to thank for these pleasures I have never felt before.