Like Mother, Like Daughter Ch. 04

Copyright © January 2022 by CiaoSteve

CiaoSteve reserves the right to be identified as the author of this work. This story cannot be published, as a whole or in part, without the express agreement of the author other than the use of brief extracts as part of a story review.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons.

Author's Notes

This is a fourth chapter to "Like Mother, Like Daughter." There may be references back to the original, so I would recommend having a quick read to know the background.

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The sun was already streaming in through the thin curtains by the time I woke up. It was the morning after what had been the most wonderful night before. I stirred under the duvet, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Something seemed different.

Suddenly I was fully awake, and very aware.

I was naked.

I was alone.

I sat up, questions ringing in my mind. Where was Peter? Why had he left me here? What time was it? It was the latter which worried me most. How long had I been sleeping? The sun seemed ever so bright outside, and I did have a train to catch. There would be no second chance if I messed up my journey back home.

I was still pondering the same when I heard a noise somewhere towards the kitchen. Was it Peter? It had to be, surely, but I didn't dare call out in case I was wrong.

Silently, I climbed out of bed and grabbed the first thing to hand, a fleece emblazoned on the front with the same university logo I had seen on that envelope. I held it up. Even for Peter, it seemed to be on the generous size. On my smaller frame it would be, well... silently, I laughed, as I slipped the tent-like top over my head.

Yes, it was ever so loose, and about the same length as the little black dress I had worn the evening before. I tried to think of the young Peter wearing the same, in the end deciding that it must have been equally large on him too. For all it was big, it was damn comfortable, soft, warm, and so very...

'Mmmm,' I thought to myself as I took my first step and felt the soft fabric slide against my bare nipples. I took a couple more steps. It was like somebody was drawing the softest silkiest feathers across my sensitive nubs, and I could already feel them harden a little.

'I could get used to this,' I thought to myself as I reached the bedroom door and peered through, looking into the corridor between bedrooms and kitchen. It was then that it hit me, the full aroma of dark roast coffee.

"Peter," I whispered, peering into the living area but not seeing my young lover.

"Ah... Sleeping Beauty awakens," came a most familiar voice from somewhere in the shadows. "Perfect timing, breakfast is served for the most wonderful woman in the world."

Peter wasn't joking. As I walked into the kitchen, he was standing there in his dressing gown, dishing up pillowy pancakes from a frying pan.

My heart melted. He was half my age, and here he was putting me first. I'd come here with the expectation of a dirty weekend away, rekindling my innermost desires, but nothing more. Not only had Peter, even at such a youthful age, managed to exceed my every anticipation in the bedroom, he'd gone so much further. With dinner one night, and breakfast the next morning, Peter sure knew how to treat his women... how to treat... little old me.

"Sit yourself down," he called out, pointing towards a round table with a couple of chairs. "Syrup or yoghurt," Peter asked.

"Cream?" I replied.

"Sorry, no cream this morning. Just... syrup or yoghurt."

Cream or no cream, Peter had served up a wonderful surprise. Light fluffy pancakes, juicy red fruit, and natural yoghurt, all washed down with deep dark coffee.

To be honest, he could have served anything, and I would have admired the young lad, but Peter had put some real thought into the weekend. I had doubted the whole idea of coming up to Norwich. How wrong could I have been. Every minute had been wonderful.

That said, all good things had to end.

"What time is it, Peter?" I asked.

"Errm," he responded, glancing over at the clock on the microwave. "Nine fifteen. Do you need to get going, Amina?"

"How far is the station?"

"I can do it in ten, but I guess give yourself twenty to be on the safe side," Peter responded.

I smiled.

"Good," I said. "Still got some time. I want to spend our last hours together, Peter. Come with me. Let's sit on the sofa. Wrap your arms around me and hold me close. Show me that you love me, Peter."

"Didn't I do that last night?" he replied, following me over to the sofa.

"Oh yes, Peter," I smiled back at him. "Last night you made love to me... took me to that special place... quenched my every desire like only you can do. Now though... now, I want to feel your love... to feel your warmth... your sensuality... your need for us to be together. I've loved this weekend, not just the sex, but being with you too, Peter."

"And I've loved it too Amina," he replied, wrapping his arm around me as we sat together on the sofa.

I snuggled my head up against his soft gown, and Peter pulled me in close. For a few minutes, neither of us said a word. I closed my eyes, feeling his chest rise and fall, imagining the thump of his heartbeat.

It was just what I needed. It was just what Zeeshan never thought about giving. Yes, the sex was great, but that wasn't all I wanted, all I needed. It was trivial things like the dinner, like the breakfast, like the security of being in his arms that I also needed to feel.

Was it a test for the young lad?

Was I trying to see how deep his feelings truly went?

Was Peter passing it with flying colours?

Without thinking, I ran my hand over his dressing gown. I found the opening between the two front panels and slipped my hand between the folds of soft fabric, far enough to feel his warmth but without touching my lover. I was half expecting Peter to do the same, to run his arm down my back and reach for my hidden naked ass. He never did. He just sat there, his arm still clasped around me, holding me in close.

Even when I slid my hand further inside his dressing gown, and ran my fingers across his bare chest, Peter never wavered from the cuddle he was giving. I glanced up at him and smiled.

"Where did I find you, Peter?" I asked, lifting my head, and placing a soft kiss on his lips as he gazed down at me.

"I seem to think... well... didn't I find you, Amina?" came his reply.

"Amina... yes... Amina. Did you know my daughter?"

"Yes," Peter replied. "She was beautiful, like you."

"I miss her, you know. I wish she was still here with me."

"I miss her too, Amina. I have a lot to thank your daughter for. If it wasn't for your Amina, I would never have met my Amina," Peter responded.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I mean..." Peter started but never finished.

It was my lips up against his mouth which put pay to any explanation. I knew just what he meant. If it wasn't for my daughter, our lives would never have crossed. Peter had a lot to thank Amina for, and I guessed I had too. Deep down, I hoped the real Amina wouldn't be disappointed in the way I took her name for granted, and the way I was putting myself first for once.

As we kissed, I slipped my hand out from inside his dressing gown. I gripped at the belt holding his gown together and gave it a gentle pull. It was enough to loosen the front of Peter's gown, just far enough for to pull the top open. I placed my head back down, this time resting against his bare chest, this time feeling the warmth of his skin against my cheek. I could hear his heart beating fast, and I knew it wasn't my imagination.

"You will make somebody very happy, Peter," I said.

"Don't I make you very happy, Amina?" he replied.

"Oh, Peter," I responded, bring my hand up and placing it against his bare cheek as I kissed the young lad once more. "You don't know how happy you make me feel. I just don't have the words to tell you."

I paused for a moment, simply looking up at the sweet young Peter.

"It's just... well... one day I will grow old, and you... you will still be young," I continued.

"Shhh," Peter responded. "Until that day comes, we have each other, and once it arrives my love for you will never wane."

"I love you, Peter... I do love you."

As I spoke, I ran my hand back down over his chest, all the way until my arm nestled around his waist. Without warning, I pulled Peter in close. I wasn't intending to, but my very movement released the loosely tied belt, and Peter's gown fell open.

"No clothes?" I teased, glancing down at his now visible cock.

"Errm... I'm... sorry..." Peter responded, suddenly feeling that his nakedness was breaking the moment. "I just wanted to surprise you with breakfast, before you woke up. I didn't want to disturb you as I got dressed."

"Sorry?" I asked. "Do you hear me saying sorry?"

I didn't wait for any answer. Instinctively, I reached down and placed my hand over his limp manhood. It was the first time I'd really felt him soft like this. I knew what I was doing, and what effect it would have on the young lad, but I just couldn't help myself but start to play.

Peter didn't disappoint. There was something so satisfying in his reaction. Peter's cock swelled under my fingers, as I teased at his limpness. There was no denying it, blood was rushing through his young body, heading down to meet my every caress. I felt his manhood pulse, then stiffen, pulse again, then lengthen.

Oh yes, this was the Peter I had come to love.

In no time at all, Peter's limpness was becoming a memory. He was growing with every touch and, yes, I was making sure to touch every inch of him. I ran my hand down and toyed with his balls for a while, then returned to his stiffer but still pliable cock. Wrapping my fingers around his shaft, I started to stroke my lover... long, slow movements along the very length of his manhood.

"Do you like that?" I asked, continuing to work his rapidly hardening member.

"Mmmm, Amina," Peter replied. "I thought you had a train to catch."

"Not without saying thank you," I responded.

"And... just how do you intend to do that?" Peter asked, his question more rhetorical than inquisitive.

"Like this," I answered, smiling as I pulled myself out of his arms.

Peter didn't have the chance to think about what was coming next. In one move, I turned to face the young lad, swung a leg over his, and pulled myself up to a kneeling position across his lap. I eased the borrowed fleecy top up slightly and leant forwards against his naked torso.

Immediately I could feel his now rampant shaft pressing firmly between our bodies. My mind was racing away with me. Already, I was dreaming of having him inside, riding him long and slow, gently working him all the way until he filled my loins with his manly warmth. I had to tell myself not to rush things, not to spoil this special moment we had together.

I pressed my mouth down against Peter's and we kissed once more. This time wasn't quite full-on snog, but for sure was more than just a gentle peck. I wanted Peter to know how much he meant to me, and from the way he responded to my every touch, he wanted to show me the same.

As I felt the tingle in my lips, I found myself grinding my bushy mound against his hard shaft. Peter purred softly against my embrace. Had he already gotten the message as to what was on offer? If not, he was soon going to. I pulled away from that most sensual of kisses and turned my attention to his open gown.

"Let's take this off," I whispered, pulling the sides further apart.

There was no hesitation from Peter as he helped ease the gown over his shoulders and down his arms. My lover was now naked in front of me, and all I could think of, was joining him.

"My turn," I whispered, raising my arms into the air.

I didn't need to ask twice. Taking a firm grip at the bottom of the fleece, Peter eased it upwards. I gasped as the soft fabric slid over my already hard nipples, held my breath as it passed over my face, then smiled back at Peter.

"Like what you see?" I asked, pushing my breasts together with my hands and making the most seductive deep cleavage.

The thought hadn't crossed my mind before, but as I knelt there staring at my full mounds, I did wonder what it would be like to have his cock sandwiched in between. How would it feel to have him fuck my soft breasts? Could I make him cum? Would he squirt again all over my naked flesh, just like in the shower?

I shook my head. What did it say of me, that I was entertaining such slutty fantasies? Either way, it would have to go on the already growing list of things for next time.

I leaned forward a little. I kissed Peter on the lips, then whispered in his ear.

"Would you like to play with them?"

Like a child with a new toy, Peter just smiled.

I moved even closer; my eyes fixed on Peter's as he stared at my plump breasts. I was so close that I could feel his breath blowing warm against my hard nipples. Slowly I grazed a nipple along his soft lips, running the length from right to left. A second time had me gasping, as my sensitive rock was met with the wetness of Peter's tongue. A third time made me squeal as Peter sucked firmly against my teasing nub.

I simply knelt there, eyes closed, letting the young lad suckle on my motherly breasts. The tingle which had earlier filled my lips, was now teasing my sensitive nipples.

I could feel the pounding in my heart.

I could feel the ache in my loins.

I moaned again as he switched from one side to the other, repeating his torment, making my nipples harder than ever before. Peter licked. Peter suckled. Peter pulled firmly with his lips as he sucked hard against my sensitive rock, before releasing it with an audible plop.

Peter was divine.

I loved the feeling in my breasts as he continued to work them, but I needed more. I longed to feel him deep inside again, so much so, that I could feel the ache of desire.

Before I knew it, I could feel a whole lot more. Instinctively, I moved my hand down between my legs, my fingers teasing at my now puffy outer lips. In no time at all I could feel the slickness of sweet love juices seeping out as I eased my labia apart.

On and on, Peter suckled at my breasts.

On and on, I toyed at my sex, working one then two fingers into my opening. The feeling was becoming addictive. The more I worked at my now sodden sex, the more aroused I felt. The more aroused I felt, the more I needed to work my pussy.

I was breathing fast and shallow, such was the excitement coursing through my veins. It was difficult to say whether this was excitement fuelled by the way he pulled and squeezed at my over-sensitive nipples, the way I dipped my fingers in and out of my opening, or by the thought of just what was coming next... or, as I hoped, cumming next.

In one quick movement, I switched my attention to Peter's hard cock, wrapping my hand around his girth and pointing him towards my waiting sex. I gasped as he nudged at my apex.

Slowly I ran his head along my slick inner folds, searching for my opening. Peter was big--it was his size which I had grown most fond of, along with his youthful prowess, his insatiable appetite, and his ability to make me cum every time--but even so, I wondered if he would reach far enough to...

Peter must have read my mind as, breaking away from my breasts for a moment, he slumped down a little on the sofa. I glanced at my young lover and smiled.

"Shall I say thank you, now?" I asked.

My question was rhetorical. I had no intention other than to say thank you, and never expected any other answer from the young lad than a yes please.

I didn't wait for any response from Peter though.

I shuffled forward on my knees, pressing my body firmly up against his. I clutched at his cock, holding him upwards, his foreskin clad head aimed directly towards my waiting sex. With my hand purely to guide him towards my opening, I started to sink down.

Slowly...

Slowly...

I inched toward his waiting flagpole. I gasped as his head nestled against my inner lips. A quick adjustment, to line him up, and then I sank a little further down on him. I could feel his girth widen as he pressed against my opening, but I had no intention of stopping.

Biting my lip, and holding my breath, I continued my slow descent. Inch by inch I felt my walls stretch tightly against his cock as I impaled myself.

Down... down... I sank.

I loved the way he made me feel.

I loved the fullness of his huge cock as he stuffed my pussy.

I loved the closeness of our naked bodies, as we sat together on the sofa.

Okay, so Peter was sitting, and I was now kneeling over his lap. I had my knees spread either side of his legs. I had my ass pressed down firmly against his naked thighs. I had my pussy stuffed with pure carnal desire. I had my mind consumed with a sense of anticipation.

Peter wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in closer still. I could feel the warmth of his body up against mine and longed to soon feel a different warmth, a warmth which started deep within. We kissed; our bodies pressed tightly against each other. Our lips were melded together in the most enthusiastic embrace. Peter pressed for an opening and I duly obliged, a tinge of excitement hitting me as our tongues touched.

As we continued to kiss, I started to move. Slowly, imperceptibly at first, I shuffled my ass against his legs. The movement was short, his cock barely sliding deep inside. All the time though, I could feel him press hard against my inner walls, and it felt so... so... good.

I continued. It was so simple. I ground my ass against him. I worked his cock ever so slightly inside my tight walls. I could feel my desires rise to the fore and, as they did, I started to pick up speed. Before long I was rocking on his lap, using my hips to leverage my pussy forward and back, but at no time truly riding him.

Peter brought his hands down to my ass, clenching at my bare cheeks, encouraging me to take him harder, faster. This was my morning though. I would take him just how I wanted... long... slow... and ever so sensually.

"Now... now... don't be a naughty boy," I whispered.

As if to make a point, I came to a halt, sitting atop his huge cock but working him no more. I waited for the expected objection, but it never came. Instead, and maybe Peter was learning as quickly as I was, he moved his hands away from my ass. Once more, Peter encapsulated my body in his strong embrace.

"That's better," I added. "Now, if you don't mind, you're in no position to be giving the orders."

It felt so good. On three separate occasions, I'd let the young Peter have his way with me. Okay, so I had been complicit in everything he did. Now though, I was enforcing my own intentions. Enforcing was a bit strong, but he would do it my way or not at all. Even then, I wasn't sure what I would have done if Peter had insisted. Maybe I would have succumbed and let him take me again. It never happened, so my fortitude was never put to the test.

Now, where was I?

Oh, yes, I remembered.

Once more, I started to grind against his lap. I picked up where I left off, gently rocking over his cock, feeling his length slide ever so slightly inside. Once more, I could feel my desires starting to simmer.

This time though, much to the delight of the young Peter, I didn't stop. I ground against his lap. I rocked over his cock. I lifted against his hard shaft, then fell once more. It was just an inch or two. It was ever so slow and sensual, just enough to have me gasping as his hidden cock grazed against that tender spot deep inside, just enough to have Peter closing his eyes as he felt my tight walls caress his sensitive head.