Comforting Mom

She glanced at my pussy as she finished the front clasp, undeniably noticing the wetness glistening on my labia.

She then moved around back and clasped the one behind before she surprised me by picking up the second stocking and ordering me, "Sit on the edge of the bed and lift your foot up."

I wanted to say something playful, but resisted, and just like the little girl I no longer was, I did exactly as she instructed, and watched as she rolled the sheer stocking onto my leg.

She then pulled me back up and dropped back to her knees where she did the front clasp and definitely took another look at my wet pussy.

A chill went up my spine as I sensed this sly seduction was working and having an even better effect than I'd anticipated.

She moved around back, did that clasp, and then asked, "Want to try on something kinda sexy?"

"You said we should never say kinda," I teased, my mother, with an English degree, hating the careless word.

"Brat," she scolded playfully, going back to her dresser for another treasure.

"Just showing you I was listening all those years you corrected my speech, teach," I countered, wondering if maybe it wasn't time for her to try to get a teaching job now... finally get her life back. That said, that was a conversation for another time, I had a very clear task at hand to complete first.

She came back with a red teddy and said, "Try this on."

I joked as I took it, and being very careful not to appear opposed to the idea replied, "Really? Now I feel like we're playing Naughty Barbie."

She laughed as I willingly put the sexy teddy on, "This is getting a little out there."

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours? I'm dressing you next," I countered, already knowing what I was going to put on her.

"What is Barbie's mom's name?" she wondered.

"I have no idea, you should google it," I said, realizing I had no idea even after all those years of playing with Barbies.

"You look amazing in that," Mom complimented.

I thought about asking 'good enough to eat?' but held back from that one: too forward. Instead I turned to the mirror and said, "Wow, I do look hot."

I then added, "It sure does showcase all my assets."

"It sure does," she nodded, again looking at my pussy, which was still in full view and still well hydrated.

I wondered if Mom had ever experimented with girls. Deciding it was time to reveal my sexual bias, I added, "Amanda will love me in this."

"What?" she asked.

I repeated, "I'm sure Amanda will love me in this. She has a thing for nylons, and if I wear this outfit, these nylons, she'll be on her knees in no time."

Mom stared at me silently, wheels turning, processing.

She was trying to think of an alternate to the obvious meaning of my words.

Deciding to help her, "Mom, you do know I'm a lesbian, right?"

"I, um, no," she responded, still in shock.

"I blame my sperm donor," I continued. "I saw how he treated someone as wonderful as you, extrapolated a little, and have never really been interested in boys."

"That never occurred to me at all," Mom said, still processing.

"What, that I like girls?" I asked, avoiding saying something crude like I love licking pussy.

"Yeah," she nodded, even as she again glanced ever so briefly at my ripe, juicy pussy. I was pretty sure she really liked what she saw, but didn't want me to know that.

"I'm sorry to just spring this on you! Are you okay with it?" I asked, suddenly feeling slightly vulnerable. I always assumed Mom would be okay with it; she wasn't judgmental at all, but her obvious and continuing confusion had me feeling insecure.

"Oh, honey," she said, coming over and giving me a big reassuring hug, her large breasts pressing deliciously against mine, "of course I am."

I hugged her back, feeling good again about where we were, and therefore returning to my focus of seducing her, "I tried guys a couple times, but I never got off from them."

"Tell me about it!" she laughed.

"Girls," I smiled, "on the other hand, get me off every time."

"Hannah!" she said.

"Often multiple times," I added, offering sly glimpses of the perks of a woman between her legs.

I noticed her nipples were rock hard, just like mine. I thought of her reluctance, not so much to admire my pussy, but instead to let me see that she was drawn to my pussy. Rather than seducing her, was it my job today simply to awaken something in her that was already very close to the surface? Instead of needing to overcome her reluctance, did I just need to make it okay for her to pursue desires that were already there?

"Oh, to be young again," she sighed.

"Mom, you're only forty-two," I pointed out, taking her hand, "and we're about to make you look even younger."

"Good luck," my mostly naked mother retorted as she followed me into my room.

I ordered, as I let go of her hand, "Wait here."

"Yes, ma'am," she responded with a cute smile, which made me wonder if she was secretly submissive.

I knew a couple gals who were, and they always tried to hide it from the world, while also trying to offer sly hints to the receptive, like calling me Ms. Hannah (my first MILF, the town librarian, had first piqued my interest that way).

"Good girl," I responded, giving her the response she would crave if she was submissive, knowing from experience that good submissives need constant approval to shine.

Neither Amanda nor I were really submissive, although each of us could either take control or be the pet. If anything, I was more in charge than Amanda, if only because she craved my pussy 24/7.

I grabbed a plaid skirt and a white blouse that I knew would be too tight for her, and brought them over to her.

"You want me to dress like a schoolgirl?" she questioned, arching an eyebrow.

"You're my Barbie Mom and you'll wear whatever I tell you to," I replied, taking control, "Is that clear, Barbie Mom?"

"Fine!" she replied dramatically, taking the blouse, but I could tell she was secretly excited at this sudden new direction. She was enjoying the attention, but also the idea of her daughter taking charge.

I called her bluff. "Don't fine me. You're loving being my Barbie Mom!"

She laughed as she shrugged the blouse on, "Fine, you caught me, Barbie!"

"On that note," I said, picking up my phone. "Let's see what Barbie's mom's name is."

"It's probably Amber," Mom joked, as she tried to button the blouse. She then pointed out the obvious, "This blouse is pretty tight."

"Just button it up," I ordered, as I googled Barbie's Mom's name.

"So bossy," she teased, but she did as she was told.

After a few more seconds I burst out laughing.

"What?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

"You really are my Barbie Mommy," I said, noticing her hard nipples clearly poking out the tight white blouse.

"What do you mean?" she asked, finishing the last button.

"Barbie's mom's name is Margaret," I revealed, which was also my mom's name.

"No way!" she scoffed.

"Look," I said, handing her my phone.

"We'll I'll be," she said, standing in front of me in a too tight blouse, a thong, and a garter-belt with stockings.

"Your tits really are a lot bigger than mine," I smiled, looking at her huge tits trying to break through the tight, thin fabric.

"Breasts," she corrected.

"I like the word tits," I refuted boldly, "I also like the word pussy, and although many are offended by the term, my favourite word is cunt."

"Hannah!" Mom gasped, this somehow seeming to offend her more than all the other shocking revelations of the day.

"Mother!" I countered and then continued my filthy language assault, "When Dad fucked you, did you moan, 'Please stroke your penis in and out of my vagina'?"

"Hannah, that is too much," Mom protested.

"No, you begged him to fuck your cunt," I continued, before adding, "the walls are thin, Mom."

"Oh my God!" Mom said, shocked I had heard her and Dad having sex.

"That's usually what you screamed when you faked your orgasms, isn't it?" I asked.

"I can't believe you heard us," she said, shaking her head, her cheeks ruby red.

I shrugged, "Parents fuck. I get it. I mean I was born and all. Plus, you're pretty loud."

"I'm not sure I like this enlightened you," she said, her face still ruby red.

"You look tense," I said, "lie on my bed. I'll give you a massage."

"You're the one who made me tense," she pointed out.

"Then let me make it up to you by helping relieve your stress," I offered, pointing to my bed. "Lie on your stomach."

"Okay," she said tentatively.

"Wait! Take off the blouse," I ordered. "It'll be easier to massage you without it."

"Put it on, take it off," she mock complained, as she did indeed take it back off, and I realized I still hadn't put her into the plaid skirt. At this point it would probably just be a distraction. The only roles I wanted to play at this point is daughter seduces Mom, Mom stops crying about her lost sperm donor and we all come happily ever after, maybe inviting Amanda over.

"Now lie down on the bed," I ordered, deciding her sensual massage would begin with my hands and continue with my mouth.

"Yes, ma'am," she repeated, matter-of-factly this time, relaxing into my leadership as she got onto the bed and lay down on her stomach.

I brought a chair to the end of my bed, sat down and took her right stocking-clad foot in my hands. The moment my thumbs put pressure on her arch, she gave a soft moan. Very few people understand the impact a foot massage can have.

It mellows the receiver.

It relaxes her.

It slowly, slyly, turns her on.

Amanda loved having her feet massaged and I loved doing it... it was all part of our unique, role-swapping relationship. Sometimes I served her; sometimes she served me. There was no hierarchy, just a willingness in each to please the other.

I methodically massaged the entire sole of her foot, taking my time. Each tiny portion of a sole has a nerve ending connected to some organ in the body, so each tiny portion matters. By the time I finished, every organ in her entire body was subtly different, better supplied with blood, less constricted, more alive. Then I did her ankle. Then each toe individually. Now I wanted to suck on her toes. Although I hadn't at all enjoyed either of the two cocks I'd once sucked, I always enjoyed sucking on each individual toe when I gave a massage... knowing it sent sexual stimulation directly to a woman's pussy.

Deciding to take the risk, I said, "Mom, I'm going to do something a little unorthodox, and I need you not to freak out.

"Um, okay," she said, tentatively.

"Turn onto your back," I instructed.

She obeyed, her entire body shivering as she did so. I hadn't even begun the sensual part of the massage, just the awakening part, and she was already turned on.

I noticed her nipples were still rock hard, and when I glanced between her legs I also noticed a big damp spot on her thong.

As she watched from her pillow, I separated her pinkie toe from its neighbor and sucked it into my mouth.

"Ohhhh, what are you doing?" Mom asked, although as I'd hoped, she didn't attempt to move her foot away.

"I'm giving you the most intimate, special and relaxing massage I can," I replied, as I removed her toe from my mouth for a moment.

"Now lie back and enjoy," I ordered.

"But you're my daughter," she protested.

"I'm not eating your cunt, Mom," I said, "I'm just giving you a unique foot massage."

"Um, okay," she said, as she leaned back but added, "I'm still not sure about this."

"Just relax," I said, as I took her second toe in my mouth while I simultaneously massaged her ankle and calf, noticing she hadn't scolded me for saying cunt.

"That does feel so nice," she moaned softly.

"Then don't think... just enjoy," I coaxed, moving to her middle toe.

"Okay," she agreed, her eyes closed and her legs spread enough that I could see her pussy lips perfectly through the sheer wet thong.

God, I wanted to just bury my face between her legs and go to town, but they say patience is a virtue and I was going to give that theory all the time it needed to prove itself true.

I sucked the remaining two toes, before moving to the other foot and replicating the attention.

Mom moaned a few times and more than once breathed contentedly, "That feels so nice, Hannah!"

Once I'd lavished an equal amount of attention on all ten toes, I began to explore my way slowly up her leg with tender kisses and caresses.

I figured she might protest, but she didn't.

So I kept advancing my kisses and touches upwards slowly, up to her knee, to her thigh, her breathing now getting heavier.

This was turning her on, and not in any minor way.

Just as I appeared to be about to kiss and caress her pussy, and I hoped by this time she wanted me to, I moved to the ankle of the other leg and replicated my slow, methodical teasing until I arrived back between her legs.

I moved my hands to her thong and urged, "Lift up, Mom. This thong of yours is really wet."

Even as she obeyed, lifting her ass up in the air, she protested weakly, "Sweetheart, we shouldn't be doing this."

"Doing what, Mom?" I asked, innocently, as I pulled her thong down the legs she also conveniently lifted up for

me, her body already surrendering to me, her mind just lagging behind a bit.

"This," was all she could say, waving her hands vaguely, as I tossed her thong aside and told her, "Mom, it's obvious that you're horny. I want to help."

Before she could respond, I moved my fingers to her wet pussy, her lips literally glistening with expectation, and slid two of them in.

"Hannah!" she gasped and moaned simultaneously... yet again she didn't move away.

"Mom, your pussy is so wet and needy," I said, "Let me help you out. I want to do this for you."

I pumped my fingers in and out of her, hoping this pleasure assault would override her common sense and propriety.

"Oh God... Hannah... this is... oh fuck... please... we mustn't... Oh fuck..." she babbled. I think she was trying to tell me to stop, but was unable to get much more than a word or a moan out at a time. Soon the moan count was surpassing the word count about two to one.

Sensing she was already very close to an orgasm and deciding it was now or never, I buried my face in her pussy and began licking.

"Hannah! Oh, Hannah, no!," she moaned, as my tongue made contact, although again she didn't move a muscle to push me away... no, she shocked me this time... my Mom actually lifted up her ass, grabbed the back of my head and with all her strength pulled me deeper inside her!

"Oh, Hannah, yes!"

Her scent was strong... her pussy was wet and tasty.

Her pussy was undoubtedly the sweetest I'd ever tasted in my limited experience of nine, but it was also unlike any other... except mine. Like mother, like daughter.

She was so wet... her taste so addicting... tart and tangy like the creation of the perfect fruit... the forbidden fruit.

I didn't want her to come too quickly, I wanted this momentous experience to last as long as possible, so I pulled my very wet fingers out of her and focused on pleasuring her with my tongue.

"Hannah, oh God," she moaned, letting go of my head. "I can't believe you're doing this to Mommy."

Hearing her say Mommy turned me on, the term so sexy under the circumstances and adding to the incestuous rapture I was feeling. I purred back, as I explored her entire pussy, including every fold, "You taste so good, Mommy."

"Your father didn't think so," she responded.

"Let's not talk about him," I suggested, "he's history," as I put extra energy into licking the sweetest tasting pussy I'd ever encountered, hoping to wash the painful memory of that horrible man completely out of my mother.

"Sure, honey," she moaned, as I slid two fingers back inside her, searching for her g-spot, guessing she'd never ever had a g-spot orgasm.

"Now let me show you what real pleasure is," I purred, finding her g-spot.

"You already haaaaaaaave," she responded as I tapped her g-spot while simultaneously flicking the tip of my tongue rapidly across her clit... my double go to move to make someone come instantly.

It never failed.

And it didn't this time either, as her legs stiffened and she screamed, "Oh. God, I'm coming, Hannah!"

She didn't have to tell me because like me, she was a squirter. She splashed my face with a full flood of sticky sweetness as I kept licking and tapping.

"Mother fucker!" she screamed to the heavens, as this orgasm was obviously not faked, was obviously intense, and I instantly promised myself I would indeed become a mother fucker, knowing my strap-on could be put to very good use.

I looked up at my mother in loving admiration. She looked so pure and sexy with her eyes closed, her lips pursed and her cheeks rosily radiating the afterglow of her euphoria.

I pulled my fingers out, got off the bed even as she was still trembling in rapture, went to the closet and pulled out a small box, well a medium sized box, that included a few sex toys: two vibrators, a strap-on, anal beads, and a double ended dildo (which Amanda and I had tried once, but it was super awkward). The anal beads had only been used by Amanda, as I still felt in my gut that the ass was a one-way hole. Although the way Amanda screamed when she had the beads or a strap-on in her ass made me wonder; thus far I'd been a holdout, but I knew I was going to have to try it one day soon.

"Holy shit, that was amazing," Mom said, weakly lifting herself up a bit.

"Agreed," I smiled.

"I always thought the g-spot was a myth," she said with a soft smile.

"As far as I can tell, only a woman can ever find it," I responded, as I set the box on the bed.

"What's in the box?" she asked. She seemed to be simply curious and not, I was very glad to see, showing any remorse for the incestuous act we'd just committed.

I pulled out the black eight inch vibe and a smaller pink six inch vibe, displayed them to her and asked elegantly, "Which of these would you prefer, madam?"

"Hannah!" she gasped. "How on earth did you get two vibrators?"

"Amazon," I answered.

She laughed, "That must be way less embarrassing than going into an adult store."

"How many do you have?" I asked.

"Two fewer than you have in your hands," she admitted.

"Mother," I sighed. "It's 2018; with the advancements in sex toys, men are utterly useless in the bedroom."

"They were before then, too," she joked.

"Touché," I laughed.

"Do you have any toys at all?" I asked.

She shook her head.

"None?" I objected, shocked.

"Just my fingers," she admitted, peering into the box curiously.

"You have a strap-on?" Mom asked, the question rather rhetorical.

"Of course," I nodded, before adding, "Amanda has five."

"Five?"

"Different sizes, shapes and vibrations," I explained, as I asked again, gesturing with both choices in my hands, "Which one shall I use on you?"

"We can't," she started.

"Which one?" I repeated, holding out the six inch with one hand, then the eight inch with the other, then the first again, etc.

"Are you going to let this go?" she asked, already giving in with a soft smile.

"Only after you come again," I answered. "I'm going to do for you what Dad obviously couldn't do."

"They're both bigger than he is," she revealed with a smile.

"Figures," I sighed.

She then surprised me by pointing into the box, "How about that one?"

"The strap-on?" I asked. She had just shocked me again!

"Sweet girl, you've gotten me so fucking horny," she admitted with a big grin.

"Mother, language," I teased, fake aghast.

"Hannah darling, will you please fuck Mommy's cunt?" she wheedled, looking as sweet and innocent as Julia Roberts in Notting Hill.