Katie Loves Her Mom

"My vibrator broke."

She saw what I was doing. "Mom, after you finish up, can I borrow yours?"

Flabbergasted, I actually answered her question.

"Unnnh, honey, that's what got us here in the first place."

"Don't think about that, think of Pedro and Tita's passion, think about how they longed for each other."

Her voice low, her tone conspiratorial, she started to recount the movie in every sensuous detail. I knew it was crazy, but I didn't want to argue, I wanted to come. Downstairs I had masturbated within three feet of her, was this so different? We would need to talk about this, but that conversation could wait until morning.

Unfortunately, Katie's unexpected appearance had been a distraction and I needed a reboot. As she described the film I let its images fill my mind and dragged by sharp fingernails across my skin, from my thighs to my stomach and then over my breasts. I was under the sheet and the room dark; I hoped Katie couldn't see what I was doing. I listened to my body, sensing what it needed. I again ran my fingers across my body, finishing at my nipples and breasts. Ryan loved it when I caressed him with my nails; now I understood why. Katie's voice, although present, became a secondary hazy background to the feelings rippling through me.

I kept this up for maybe five minutes -- I was beyond keeping track -- before lowering my hand to my sex. Lightly and softly, I glided my index finger from my clitoris to my vagina, top to bottom, up and down. I lost myself in the sensations, intensely experiencing the pleasure and stimulation. I open the lips of my labia with my index and ring fingers while luxuriantly running my index finger along its moist length. I sank a finger into my vagina.

I knew I should ask Katie to leave, but I realized that performing for her was turning me on. Ryan enjoyed making love outdoors, in places where we might get caught, but I was always a bit apprehensive. I now understood why he found the idea of an audience so stimulating. I pulled back the hood of my clitoris and made small circular motions around it, sometimes softy, sometimes harder. My breathing quickened. I was burning up.

I switched on the vibrator. Katie's voice penetrated through its quiet buzz and my lust-soaked thoughts, "Wow, and I thought watching my girlfriends was hot." The image of her and her athletic friends filled my mind when I brought the vibrator to a spot just above my clit, moving it back and forth. At this point direct stimulation would be too intense; it would quickly veer from joy to pain. Even this indirect stimulation was, in fact, ushing the limits and I had to occasionally lift the device from my skin.

My daughter's voice again, echoing in the background. "I've got to see this."

Katie pulled aside the sheet. My naked body was on display. I pulled the device away from my skin and looked at her daughter, she was so beautiful. When Katie softly instructed me to continue, I did, lowering the vibrator to the spot immediately above my clitoris and moving it in small circles. I surrendered, I had no resistance left and when one of my daughter's fingers plunged into my cunt and her mouth closed around a nipple, I was only capable of enjoying it. I felt the pressure, centered around my clitoris building. Tension and pleasure were flooding over me and it soon felt like my clitoris was going to explode. I brought the vibrator to the blessed bud, working it with practiced skill. I almost immediately started spasming as my brain sank into a pool of orgasmic bliss.

"Ohhhh......Ahhhh..Oh Jesu......OOOhhhh fuck.....Oh My.....Oh my pussy......oh yeah.....Ahhhhh.....UUhhmmm......Oh god, cummminnnnngggggggggg!!!!"

I writhed in the bed until exhausted, I simply sank into the mattress. When the vibrator fell from my relaxed hand Katie grabbed it, sat with her back against the headboard, and brought it to her vagina. She had removed her pyjamas and was now, like me, naked, unabashedly displaying her perfect body. Still dazed, I couldn't decide where to look, my eyes flitting from her massive firm breasts, to her beautiful face -- eyes closed, mouth open -- and then to her hand, which pressed the vibrator against her sex. She was not going to need as much foreplay as I and she quickly focused on her clit. Engrossed by what I was seeing, I placed my hand on her thigh. She opened her eyes and looked at me.

"Ohhhh, ohhhh, Mommy, here it cums! I'm burning up! I'm itching something crazy. I can't scratch it enough."

I was mesmerized. Katie motioned me to sit next to her. When I did her free hand snaked around my head and drew it to her breast. I opened my mouth to her erect nipple, sucking on it and lashing it with my tongue.

"Ohhhhhh, shit, I love it, love it."

I had never tasted another woman's breast -- well if you don't count some drunken episodes with my freshman roommate and some of her wilder friends and then a few other times -- okay, I hadn't tasted one recently. Katie's breast was nice, firm yet supple, soft, and pliant. I ran my tongue hard over her nipple and the intensity of her moans increased. When I took her breast in my hand and I felt it swell in increasing arousal. I kneaded her tit flesh and she bucked and then cried, "Ahhhhhhhh, God, YES," as the bed rocked in response to her explosive orgasm. I found myself addicted to her tit-flesh, unable to stop licking and sucking, until finally my daughter pulled it away. "So good Mommy, but please stop. My body's too sensitive."

I looked up at her and she brought my mouth to hers, licking my lips before her tongue, trembling in exhaustion, inched into my mouth. Mine met hers and they shared a few tentative touches before our two enervated bodies sank back into the mattress. The last thing I remember before drifting off to sleep was Katie draping her leg over mine.

I woke up the next morning to the back of daughter's head. I had an arm wrapped over her upper body, my hand resting on a breast. During the night I had pulled myself close to her and my breasts pressed against her back. She was still asleep. At the moment she looked quite the wild child. Her hair was in disarray and she was naked, lying for the most part on top of the sheets, her body sensual and strong.

Katie was about five inches taller than me, standing about 5 feet 10 inches. She shared my curves, maybe 34-25-36, and took after her grandmother is some ways, including her natural D cups. Her complexion, like mine, was light and her hair blonde (although hers was natural). She had a birthmark immediately above her lips. Although people usually described her as wholesome and looking like the "girl next door," after she hit adolescence I noted some of our male friends let their eyes linger on her a little longer than they should.

I leaned down and kissed the top of her head. I knew we couldn't go on like this, but I also knew I had never loved my daughter more than I did at this moment. Maybe it was because she did remind me so of her father. While Katie and I looked much alike, her personality was closer to her Dad's. Despite my wild youth, I had become a careful adult. When in public my make-up was perfect and clothes right. Katie instead took after her father. While she could dress-up, she mostly wore gym shorts and a tee shirt and often had a smudge of dirt on her face. What I liked best about her, however, was her endless optimism. She was relentlessly positive and upbeat, always eager to take on new challenges. She eschewed cheerleading for sports and started on the high school volleyball and softball teams. Although not the best player on either, she was always the first one to fist bump her teammates.

I looked at the clock. In all the excitement I had forget to set the alarm and had overslept by about twenty minutes. Not enough for full scale panic, but enough to postpone the talk Katie and I needed to have. I figured I could dress down: jeans, boots, shirt, hair in a pony-tale, and apply make-up at the office.

I grabbed a quick shower and woke Katie. My cheery voice elicited only a teenaged moan, but she was sufficiently conscious to understand. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I heard her heading for the bathroom.

I was fixing breakfast when Katie charged down the stairs. She bounded into the kitchen, brimming with energy, and into my arms.

"Good morning Mommy, last night was amazing."

Well, at least, I didn't need to worry about her feeling guilty.

She wrapped her arms around me. She smelled great -- had she been dipping into my perfume again -- and her vivacious energy infectious. Her body and firm breasts were also pressed tightly against mine, causing a spark between my legs and a revival of the feelings of the night before.

I put on my best stern parental voice. "You and I need to talk about last night."

Katie, still pressed against me, replied, "Your tone says no, but this says yes."

She ran a finger across my breast. My nipple instantly stiffened. She kissed me on the lips, grabbed a bagel I had prepared, and headed for the door, yelling, "Remember, I have a game tonight at 6:00."