Dancing in Lunar Seas

After the week of getting smashed by her friends, of getting fucked, screwed, and gang-banged, something in her had seemed to snap. Kristie fell into a somber mood of despair, of desperation, and of hopelessness. She stopped any pretense of looking good, or sexy, or desirable; she chose baggy clothes, loose t-shirts and sweatpants. She abandoned shorts or skirts; the very thought of showing skin around her mother disgusted her.

Allison kept getting hotter and hotter, sexier and sexier, the years dropped from her face, and the heaviness which once, only weeks before, wore her down now glowed with the cherubic flesh of youth. Kristie would sit on the couch, eyeing her mother from the corners whenever she walked by, prancing, swaying her round ass, encapsulated nowadays in something soft, smooth, and tight. Kristie would quickly look away as if the image burned her, and she spent much of the time suddenly jumping up to run to her bedroom, from which she began to emerge more and more infrequently and for less and less duration of time.

Kristie pined for her mother and would not say it, not even to herself.

Allison noticed but would not admit it, choosing to blame her daughter's mood on something that must have happened between her and Jenny. Or those three losers who finally stopped dropping by. She'd try to take her dancing, dragging the unusually moping girl behind her, her own eyes enraptured by the bursting joy of the world around her, not quite indifferent to her daughter's dilemma but unable to understand it without an introspection unsuitable to this new fervor of the moment, as if reality were only a skin, a glowing and radiant skin, covering nothing and trembling with sensation, vibrating with an almost electric sensuality, a taut, sexual skin needing pampering and touch and not much else.

And even that was over thinking it; she wanted to live, and in living, to bring her daughter with her.

"If she hadn't taken me dancing," she'd muse in her skimming way. "But what's got into her now? She won't talk to me. She won't sit in the same room as me. Is she mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

But her new zeal wouldn't let her pursue the interrogation.

"Let's go dancing," she said finally to Kristie. "At that one place. Where you took me last time."

It wasn't a suggestion, and Kristie groaned.

IV Self-Appraisal, a Request for Advice, and an Invitation to Watch

Allison stood in her bra and panties, appraising her body and her outfit for the night. She looked good; she knew that much. Her body oozed with sensuality, her flesh burned with it, and a sexual heat almost perceptibly radiated from her skin. She felt so good, so alive, but in one thing, in one thing only she could find reason for discontent. She called to her daughter over her shoulder. She yelled.

"Kristie. Kristie, honey, get in here. I need your advice."

Eventually Kristie appeared in the doorway, looking pale and haggard, and decidedly unready for the evening.

Allison bit her lip, ignoring her daughter's appearance.

"Look at me, honey. Look at me here."

Allison pointed to her groin. She was wearing thin, sheer, cheeky red panties, and just over her mons Kristie could see a puffing lump of dark pubic hair, trimmed at the sides obvious, forming a full and luxurious triangle patch. Kristie yelped when her mother started peeling down her panties.

"Oh," she said loudly.

Allison smiled at Kristie.

"I trimmed it like you suggested, but do you think it's enough, honey? Do you think I should shave the rest of it off? If feels so smooth. So soft."

She repositioned her panties.

Without waiting for an answer, Allison strode towards Kristie and pulled her arm, dragging her to the master bath Allison's father had built years ago as an addition to the small ranch house. He'd done a fairly good job, but the floor dipped slightly between the foundations, and not even a thick carpet could overcome an odd and passing vertigo Allison felt every time she moved between rooms.

"Come keep me company while I shave. I want to talk to you. We haven't talked in ages, it seems like."

V Watching

Kristie's mind went numb, that's really the only word to describe it. She herself couldn't think of any word; she really couldn't think at all. She just followed her mother to the bathroom, watching the sway of her mother's round, wide ass slinging from side to side, a thin stripe of red satin running through her ass crack, separating the loaves of her fleshy and dimpled ass.

Kristie was in heaven, a kind of nightmare heaven filled with awe and fear, her guts sinking in self-disgust and shame, but reveling in the sight all the same, the intoxicating sight of her mother leaning over to fill the tub with steaming hot water, straightening up to reach behind her to unfasten her bra, then pushing her panties slowly and gracefully down the curves of her legs, stepping out of them to sit on the edge of the tub.

Drink in the sight of me, Allison's body told Kristie. Drink me.

Kristie couldn't even pretend to lie to herself anymore.

"Oh my god," she muttered to herself, the truth of her mother's glory beginning to rise irrepressibly inside her mind.

"What's that, dear?" Allison ask, spreading her thighs inside the large tub while Kristie sat on the tiled ledge, near the spigots.

"It's true. It's all true," Kristie thought to herself, careful to keep quiet, "and I'm such a disgusting pig. I'm so gross."

But as gross as she felt, she could not tear her fixed eyes, glued to her mother's slit, away.

The water rose slowly, the steam rose from the roiling surface of the bathwater, but Kristie could see it clearly, vividly. Her mother made no attempt to hide herself, and if she seemed aware of Kristie's entranced gaze, she gave no sign of it.

Allison for her part was aware of it, her daughter's attention, but her own mood had by now cast off and disregarded any restraint. She wanted to be looked at, she wanted to be admired. All that week, all those weeks after dancing in that wonder night club filled with all those beautiful and wonderful women did something to Allison. Images of that woman in particular, that Tori who so blatantly and casually caressed her naked breasts filled her head, filled her mind. And there were others. That cute little girl who talked to Kristie at the bar, who somehow managed to keep dancing just within sight of mother and daughter, who kept whispering into her daughter's ears that night. What was her name?

DeeDee.

So cute and small, so waifish. So. So boyish, almost.

Without delving too deeply into the matter, the thought of being desired by other women inflamed her. A wild need seized her heart to be seen by women, to capture their attention, to make them stare. She wanted to stare back, and soon she did. She found herself turning around to gaze at a woman walking by her in the parking lot or in the hall.

She found herself flirting with the women at work or women she met while shopping, salesgirls, girls working behind counters at coffee shops and clothing stores, anywhere. She didn't think anything of it; she wasn't sure she meant anything by it. It was fun, was all; it filled a strange need in her, one she hadn't even been aware of until four weeks ago to view women not as sexual rivals or even friends but to see them as potential sexual partners, potential lovers. It thrilled her; it excited her. It drove her to the point of madness. It certainly made her giddy.

She wanted Tori to see her pussy. She needed Tori to see her pussy so badly, she couldn't stop thinking about it, about her. She bitterly reproached herself for losing the moment, for letting the moment slip, and she continuously vowed never, never to let that happen again. Lying back in the tub, she spread her thighs for Tori, and if it was her daughter looking, well. So much the better, girl.

Why not get a glimpse of the old lady's snatch?

And snatch a glimpse the daughter did.

Kristie's heart beat so wildly in her chest, she was terrified her mother would hear it. She wondered how it was that she could not. Surely she can hear me? Surely she knows what she's doing to me? Oh god, what is she doing to me? Does she know? Does she care? Oh god. I'm sick.

I'm so disgusting.

Kristie's lip quivered, and her mouth fell open; her mouth felt dry, but a trickle of saliva dripped from her bottom lip, fat and shaking as she looked at the nude rawness of Allison's bare pussy, a thin narrow slit in the puffy sides of her cunt, demure and modestly hidden within her fleshy folds. A brown tuft of pubic hair crowned her mons, but the side of her vulva were smooth and bare, darker than the sides of her thighs, and Kristie suddenly, achingly, longed to touch her. To touch her there.

Kristie swallowed.

"Do you like women, honey? You know. In that way?"

The question jarred Kristie from her stunned reverie of her mother's pussy.

"Mom."

The water was higher now, and Allison dripped a big yellow sponge into the water, swirled it around, and caressed her upper arm nonchalantly, casually wiping herself while avoiding a direct look at her daughter.

"Well. I mean. All those women at the club. So many of them were, well. You know. Kissing each other, touching each other. Baby, they were grinding on each other. I thought someone would kick some of them out, but it just kept on and on, and then."

Allison paused.

"That woman, that Tori. She touched my breasts. My boobs, Kristie. She pinched my nipples."

The water splashed into the tub, and Allison's hands drifted in wide motions just below the surface. The waterline rose above her pussy now, but Kristie could see it, admire its wavering form.

"I've kissed girls, Mom. Women. There was this girl just before summer break. We made out it the parking lot of that dance club. I've been making out with Jenny, too. Oh god. She's such a great kisser. She's so pretty.

"I guess I do like women. I guess I do like them in that way."

The room fell quiet, Allison kept her thighs spread wide, enjoying Kristie's attention, knowing that the girl was looking at her, feasting her eyes on where she began life.

"If that woman's there tonight," Allison said bluntly, "I'm going to fuck her. I'm going to go home with her and fuck her brains out. I'm going to do to her everything a woman's supposed to do to another woman. God help me. I'm going to fuck her."

Then Allison lifted her body and sat on the side of the tub.

She retrieved a nearby razor and began dragging the blade over her pubic hair, methodically shaving her remaining hair, until her bald pussy confronted Kristie's wide and wild eyes.

"So smooth," Allison said as she ran her hand over her pussy, drawing her middle finger through the narrow slit of her lips, spreading her labia just enough to show Kristie a brief glimpse of the warm pink inside.

And when Kristie left the bathroom to get ready, she vowed to herself openly and without shame that it would not be that woman Tori whom her mother took home to fuck.

VI Dressed to Kill

Kristie had dressed to kill. Figuratively, yes, but even literally her outfit could have caused accidents, heart attacks, shortness of breath. She gave her mother nowhere not to look, and every inch of her tight body beckoned her mother's attention, called for her mother's leering scrutiny. She wore her clothes so tight as to challenge body painting.

She had flung herself into her bedroom with an eager, explosive abandon. Seeing her mother touch herself like that, spreading her lips so deliberately and casually for her daughter's starving eyes, destroyed any remnants of inhibition, shame, or indecisiveness in the girl, now absolutely and irrevocably determined to one end.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she kept muttering to herself after her shower, during which she shaved her groin as well as her legs, which had acquired a fine fuzz of growth after days of neglect. She threw on and tossed aside garment after garment, piece of clothing after piece of clothing. "That bitch. That bitch. I'm so going to fuck her tonight. That fucking bitch."

She was so angry, so frustrated, so turned on, so entirely aware of what she wanted now, so amazed at the very idea, that she soon fell into a methodical and quiet analysis of the right outfit for seduction.

She chose low-waist, very low-rise, skin-tight club pants, gold and silver, with a V-indention at the fly, dipping to show the lower-most edge of her mons. Her pants seats clung to her heart-shaped ass, following the curve into the crevice between her two half-moons like a second skin, and she wore a crisscross halter, just a piece of shimmering gold lamé big enough to cover her tits, lifting her breasts up and together, showing plenty of underboob. Her nipples jutted from the thin fabric like small-caliber bullets, hard with round points.

She fixed her hair, sitting in front of the bathroom mirror as she piled her brown hair, highlighted to a glimmering golden brown hue, over her head, letting a few curling strands fall on either side of her long face. She applied smokey glittering shadow above her eyes, spread thick mascara over her lashes after first curling them, and carefully applied foundation, blush and concealing to bring out her cheeks. Then she smooth glittering gold lipstick over her thick, full lips.

Gazing at her image in the mirror, she thought of a painted idol, a painted idol demanding the adoration of her mother.

The sight of her stunned Allison, burning an image in her mind that would linger the rest of the night. Her hair ascended in a cresting golden brown wave, spraying over the sides of her face, which glowed magnificently, and her breasts filled her top, threatening to spill from below. From her tits to just above the girl's pussy her skin was revealed to her mother's adoring eyes, and when Allison dared to look lower, her club pants clung so tight to her hips and thighs that she could see the outline and cleft of Kristie's cunt clearly in the gap.

"Turn around," Allison said in a choking whisper, and Kristie turned around, showing Allison the curve of her nineteen-year old ass.

Kristie's gold and silver pants flared out below the knee, ending just above a pair of black, calf-length leather boots on platform heels. Kristie's swished her butt.

"Oh my," Allison exclaimed. "Somebody's going to get lucky tonight."

"You're not so bad yourself, Allie," Kristie winked. "Who knows who you'll end up with. That woman Tori's going to have a lot of competition."

Kristie breathed in the vision of her mother, dressed in the same gold lamé she had worn a month ago. Big golden hoops hung from her lobes, and long strands of fine silver metal hung from her necks, forming many loops that plunged below her breasts, half-revealed by the low cut of the neckline. She wore similar makeup to her daughter, but her lips gleamed a bright glossy red.

"I couldn't find the right panties," Allie admitted. "They all made horrible lines in my dress. So I had to make a decision."

Peering straight into Kristie's, she raised the hem of her dress above her bare and newly shaven groin.

"Oh my god, Mom. Allie," Kristie said.

VII The Way There

The night deepened around the Dodge Caravan as it followed the shuddering light it cast ahead of itself. Dark trees rose on either side of the road, and the moon, waxed to full, poured its own thin reflected light onto the landscape surrounding the minivan. From time to time, a sudden illuminated sign indicating a gas station flashed a moment into view, but for the most part the drive passed in an unbroken line of trees rushing by in the speeding light.

Mother and daughter alike had fallen into a thoughtful apprehension, and they remained silent for fear of breaking the impending moment. Only when the vehicle approached the city limits did Allison speak, breaking the pregnant silence.

"Promise me one thing, Kristie. Promise me that no matter what happens tonight, you won't say no it. To her, if that's what you want. I said no last time, and it gnaws at my soul with regret. If you find someone, and she wants you, and you want her, then say yes. Say yes, Kristie."

"I will, Allie. I'll say yes. But you have to say yes, too. No matter what happens, and no matter who kisses you, no matter which woman wants you, you have to say yes."

"I promise, Kristie. It's a deal."

Kristie smiled, relieved.

"Then I promise, too, Allie. I promise I won't say no."

VIII A Quick Feel, a Quick Kiss

The Caravan came to a stop; Allison and Kristie both checked their makeup and lipstick in the vanity mirrors, then turned to each other, smiled, and exited the minivan. Halfway across the parking lot, Kristie stopped her mother, turned her to face her, and each into the neckline of her dress, caressing her breast quickly but sensually before twisting and pinching her nipples hard. It all happened so fast, Allison, Allie, didn't have time to react. She didn't even know how she should react.

"Kristie," she said.

"I wanted to see them poke through your dress, Allie. For that woman Tori. Or for others."

Kristie winked at Allie, and then she quickly leaned in to kiss the corner of her mother's mouth, a soft brushing of her lips lingering for an instant on her mother's lips.

"You're so sexy, Allie. You can get any girl you want tonight."

IX Dancing in Lunar Seas

It blistered her mind. That was the only way she could put it. When Kristie touch her mother's breasts, oh god they were so soft and warm, the heat shooting through her brain sizzled and fried it. Already superheated, already charged up from staring at her mother's pussy, she had spent most of the drive to Lunar Seas in a bizarre state of doubt and courage, the unreality of the moment stretching to the breaking point the erotic tension building inside her.

And then Allie, sexy Allie, made her make that promise; the tension snapped, flinging Kristie into a surreal domain of pure desire. But Allie, sexy Allie, wasn't ready yet. Not yet, and Kristie had to play with her first. To get her ready.

Oh god those tits.

Meanwhile, Allie half-stumbled into Lunar Seas, her mind too shocked by what had just transpired to fully register her own reaction to those soft and gentle hands on the flesh of her tits.

Her nipples, so hard now, poked through her dress like marbles. For that woman Tori. For that woman Tori to see and to touch.

Allie tried to remember Tori's face, but the figure of another woman, familiar and young, danced on the skirts of her imagination. Her mind's eye ignored her for now. Would Tori be there tonight?

Did it really matter?

Then they stepped into the basement of Lunar Seas, and techno washed over them, liquid sounds of bass and synth rising and falling like a tide in which the glittering bodies of women floated like shining jellyfish, and Allie, sexy Allie stopped thinking. Tonight, she would only feel.

Kristie squeezed her hand and didn't let go. There could be no doubt who Allie was with that night. There could be no doubt as to who claimed Allie, and when Allie tugged her arm from Kristie, Kristie squeezed her hand tighter, and tugged harder, pulling her mother to her side to wrap her in an embrace, long and sensual, her other hand smoothed the lamé of Allie's back and drifted horizontally just above the sloping rise of her mother's ass.

Kristie looked deep into her mother's eyes, their faces so close the tips of their noses brushed each other, and Kristie leaned in to whisper into Allie's ear.

"You want to show the other girls you're interested, don't you? You want to show everybody which way you go, don't you? You don't have to be shy with me, Allie."