Mothers and Daughters Ch. 11

“Why are you guys so mean to me? I’ve never done any harm to you. If you didn’t want to fuck me, why did you lead me on?”

Kyle and Robert were sufficiently ashamed and, having restored their attire, ran out of the room. Ivan, however, was not mortified in the least at what he had done. He retorted:

“Get real. I wanted to fuck you? Who would want to fuck a tub of lard like you? You are lucky me and my buddies wanted to have any fun with you.”

Then as he was turning to leave leered at her and sarcastically uttered:

“Have a good day!”

Beverley broke down and wept fiercely. She felt totally humiliated and was ashamed at her naivety for even considering that Ivan could possibly have had any desire for her. She hated how pathetically she had acted in accepting all the indignities foisted upon her.

When she finished crying, she cleaned herself up. She called her mother to pick her up. Sally was most kindly solicitous and was in favor of reporting the incident to the police for possible rape charges. Beverley pointed out that a rape allegation would not fly, as she had consented to everything that had happened. She did not even protest when the guys had peed on her.

Shortly after this incident, Beverley left for Waco to start her college career at Baylor University. So she did not have time to brood about it. She focused on her college studies and thus was able to put this nightmare behind her. Although her experience was horrid, it did not curb her desire for sex.

Technically, she was no longer a virgin, but she still considered herself to being one. She knew that a woman could expect to have an orgasm from good sex. Such orgasm should be at least as good as masturbation but most often better. There had been nothing close to an orgasm from that horror perpetrated by Ivan. Ergo, from her view she still was a virgin until she would get that orgasm.

She craved sex. She wanted an authentic sexual experience: one where a cock was truly penetrating her cunt and drilling it until she went crazy. From experiences related to her by her girlfriends, Beverley knew she could enjoy giving head and have a much better result than Ivan’s spiteful actions. Her girlfriends had whispered about sodomy, and Beverley’s vagina moistened at such naughty thoughts; she instinctively knew she would love having a cock up her ass. She wanted to experience it; she wanted to experience it all.

Unfortunately the incident did make her gun shy and robbed her of all self confidence in dealing with the opposite sex. The words Ivan uttered -- “Who would want to fuck a tub of lard like you?” -- had devastated her, and she could not shake them from her memory. She was consciously aware that some men preferred overweight woman and thus there was no reason for her to despair. She knew she had an attractive face, and she knew fat women had boyfriends too.

Actually if she could have objectively evaluated herself, she would have realized that she was truly a gorgeously overweight woman. She was especially attractive to those men who do not consider gorgeously overweight to be an oxymoron. Although she was overweight, her body was voluptuous. Her naked body did not contain an overabundance of unsightly rolls of fat. She had thick thighs, a huge ass, and very ample boobs, all of which accounted for a lot of her weight. Those men who appreciate the models in Rubens paintings would appreciate Beverley Browning.

Despite though her own conscious belief that she was capable of attracting a worthwhile man, she was simply hopeless in social settings. During her two years at Waco, she was unable to secure a date, let alone even a hint of an amorous kiss. She had a long way to go for that elusive first real fuck.

Her girlfriends were not much help since all of them were thinner, some much so, than her and so could not relate to her problems. Beverley would have loved to have had a serious discussion with her mother, but she deemed Sally to be next to useless on the subject matter of sex and how to get it. Her mother had to be most asexual person she knew of.

Sometimes Beverley envied her mother’s lack of interest in sex, and wished to be so inclined herself. If she had that quality, then she would not be plagued by these desires for sex. Then she would not be frustrated. Then she could concentrate on becoming the best damn nurse she could be and be satisfied with an excellent professional career.

Beverley could not recall her mother ever going out on a date with a man. Her mother was still relatively young at 42 years of age, and although not pretty, she was not hideous either. She was very good natured, easy to get along with, and adept at witty conversation. She had a steady respectable job (high school teacher) and, having inherited a modest fortune and having invested same wisely, she has not hurting for money. You would think she would be besieged with suitors, never mind being constantly the object of one man’s desire; and yet there was no male interest in her.

What absolutely intrigued Beverley, though, was that her mother did not display any interest in men or sex, nor did she seem to be concerned about this void in her life. For a while, Beverley considered that her mother might be a lesbian, but Sally did not betray any interest in the alternative lifestyle either. Beverley had frequently been tempted to ask Sally if she did not enjoy sex and, if so, why. Despite being curious, however, she had never had the nerve to ask such an intimate question. Obviously, her mother had to have had sex at least once in her life if only to account for her very own existence, but was that the only time she had sex?

With her mind running in that direction, Beverley speculated about her biological father. When Beverley was a child, Sally had told her he had died before she was born and, as she did not know him for very long, could not tell her anything substantial about him. As a child, Beverley had accepted such explanation at face value. As she grew older, the story did not seem to wash. For one thing, her mother rarely spoke of him and never mentioned his name. The obvious conclusion is that her mother never knew his name.

So what would explain Sally’s not knowing the name of the man who had impregnated her? Perhaps she was raped and Beverley was the result of the crime. But, reasoned Beverley, surely her mother would have undergone an abortion in such circumstance. After all, even lots of pro-life advocates in the abortion debate would countenance an abortion in such a situation.

So a more likely scenario had to do with the fact that she was conceived during her mother’s senior year at Baylor. Perhaps her mother got drunk at a wild campus party and had casual sex with another partygoer. After coitus, they parted without thinking more about it, or seeing each other again, or even exchanging names.

This scenario became, for Beverley, more plausible considering her own experiences at Baylor the past two years. She had attended a few parties where she witnessed various casual hook-ups that subsequently went nowhere; some of such hook-ups involved her close girlfriends.

Unfortunately, from her viewpoint, Beverley could not herself score. At these parties Beverley was never able to finagle even hot kissing and petting action. Apparently the guys at these parties always seemed to have supposedly better options than messing with her.

As her mind was thus occupied, Beverley came to clean her mother’s bedroom thoroughly. In the closet, she came across a decorative plastic box which she had never seen before. Curious, she opened the lid. The contents took her breath away. They were glossy 8”x12” and 10”x12” photo prints…of her mother!...naked!...in sexual situations! She could not have been more dumfounded or shocked in her life.

The first photo Beverley looked at showed a tall muscular Afro-American man standing with a full erection of a huge cock. Her mother was upright on her knees at right angles to the man. She had placed her hands, fingers spread apart, side by side against his cock to demonstrate that the length of his penis exceeded the combined width of her hands. Her face was staring at the camera with one eye closed forming a saucy wink and sporting what could only be described as a wicked lascivious smile.

The next photo was apparently in sequence, as her mother, still on her knees, had half of this man’s cock in her mouth. One of her hands grasped that part of his rod not in her mouth. Ostensibly she was stroking his cock up and down. The third photo in sequence showed the man’s cock entirely in her mother’s mouth. Beverley simply gasped on viewing this and sensed that her vagina was noticeably moistening.

There were two other photos of this man and her mother. One showed half of his cock penetrating her mother’s rectum. The way they were posed showed her mother’s cunt fully exposed leaving no doubt that she was being sodomized. The other photo showed his cock completely in her ass. Beverley gasped again, as she would have thought such deep penetration would have been impossible.

Another photo showed her mother with two different men, this time both white. She was on her hands and knees on a round table with a foam-covered top. One of the men was behind her on his knees between her thighs, fucking her vaginally. Her mother was sucking the cock of the other man, who was conveniently standing before her to allow her access. By this time, Beverley’s cunt was soggy from the stimulation of viewing these pictures.

There were many more explicitly sexual photos of her mother with different men; the sheer quantity of different men was remarkable in of itself. The most provocative picture from Beverley’s viewpoint was one where her mother was standing, sporting her by-now-standard wicked smile, flanked by two men and holding the cock of each. Beside them, similarly posed, was another woman, also smiling and herself flanked by two men. This woman had a remarkable resemblance to the famous Pamela Rose, one of the finest female vocalists extant.

Could this woman really be Pamela Rose? Beverley was a huge fan of the singer since as long as she could remember, and she possessed quite a few autographed photos of her. Thus Beverley was quite cognizant of Pamela Rose’s features, and this woman in the picture was a dead ringer.

Beverley suddenly thought: ‘Wait a minute…those autographed pictures!’ Her mother had obtained them for her when Beverley was twelve. Sally had claimed she had written to the publicist of Pamela Rose requesting the pictures, citing Beverley as a huge fan. Beverley always cherished these pictures, since they contained appropriate personal messages thoughtfully penned by Pamela Rose. She constantly lorded those pictures over her best friend, who was also a fan of Pamela Rose.

Her friend’s mother had also requested an autograph picture from the publicist. All they received was a standard ubiquitous picture of Pamela Rose which was available to every fan who asked. Her friend's picture was autographed obviously by an automatic signature-writing machine.

It now started to dawn on Beverley that perhaps the reason why she had so many truly personally autographed pictures of Pamela Rose might be due to her mother being personally acquainted with the singer. ‘Oh my God!’ thought Beverley. ‘That woman in the picture must be Pamela Rose.’ She further thought that her mother has a lot of explaining to do.

Beverley’s first thought on viewing the pictures was that these must have been taken in the past two years when she was in Waco and did not have daily contact with her mother. However, that did not explain the Pamela Rose anomaly. Besides, upon further examination of the photos, she noticed all of them contained dates on the back presumably indicating when the photos were taken. Such dates varied, with the oldest going back to eight years. The obvious conclusion was that during those periodic weekends, including the present one, when her mother was absent, she must have been participating in sex orgies as depicted in these photos.

Beverley was not disgusted or grossed out by seeing these pictures and by the realization that her mother had a secret and apparently flamboyant exotic sex life. She was actually overjoyed to learn that her mother was not the “stick in the mud” or sexless person she had assumed her to be. If anything, the predominant feeling in her mind in reacting to these photos was envy. Oh, what she would give to have a cock in her pussy, in her mouth, even up her ass. Judging by these pictures, her mother sure was enjoying such possibilities, and Beverley knew she herself would have been similarly enraptured. No doubt about it, she would want some of it too!

Sally, beforehand, had indicated to Beverley that she would return from the weekend “conference” the following (i.e., Sunday) afternoon around 3:00 PM. Beverley decided to have some fun in confronting her mother about her secret sex life. She went to Wal-Mart and purchased some picture frames. She then framed four of the photos: the two with the Afro-American man where his cock was completely in her mother’s mouth and ass, the one where her mother was entertaining two men simultaneously, and the Pamela Rose photo. She mounted them on Sally’s bedroom wall, replacing the nondescript mundane paintings that had been there.

When the expected time of Sally’s arrival neared, Beverley got onto her mother’s bed and took up a book to read while waiting for her mother to appear. As Sally then arrived and upon entering she called out:

“Yoo hoo! I’m home. Are you here, Beverley?”

Beverley shouted a reply:

“Yes, Mom, I’m here. I am in your bed reading. Come on up.”

So Sally headed to the bedroom. Upon spotting Beverley she rushed to her with open arms intending to hug her daughter and she started to say:

“Oh, Beverley you look….” And then she shrieked, “Eeeeek!...” as she had noticed the mounted pictures. Beverley giggled and said:

“Oh, Mom, I guess you just noticed I have redecorated your room. I thought those paintings you had were too drab for this room. I think pictures of your greatest triumphs would brighten it up considerably.”

“My…my….triumphs?”

“Why, yes, Mom! That black man sure has some impressive equipment, and dainty little old you could easily handle him, every inch of him, in your ass and in your mouth even. And you were woman enough to entertain two men simultaneously to their obvious satisfaction. And you’re palsy-walsy with Pamela Rose, my idol since I was a little girl. Oh yes, these surely have to rate as triumphs!”

“Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I knew I should have put that box back in the attic when I knew you were coming. I should have known you would have discovered it and the pictures.”

“Well, you didn’t, and I did. So, Mom, it appears like those professional development conferences you have been attending are not quite like what I had imagined them to be.”

“I daresay, Beverley. I sure have tried to be discreet and circumspect so that you would not be ashamed of me.”

“Ashamed? Oh Mom, I’m not ashamed of you. I am relieved. I thought you were inhuman when you appeared to have no interest in sex. I am delighted to learn that you are the sexy woman I would myself want to be.”

“Oh, don’t be so impatient, honey. You’re still so young with lots of adventures ahead of you. I was still a virgin when I was your age. In fact, I did not lose my virginity until my senior year at Baylor.”

“Aha! It’s as I’ve always suspected. You got drunk at a party; you lost your inhibitions and then your cherry. You became pregnant with me. Of course you didn’t know it at the time, so you didn’t think it was important to ascertain your partner. And then when you found out you were pregnant, it was too late to try and track him down. That’s the reason you cannot tell me the name of my biological father.”

“Let me get a bottle of Merlot to share with you. I see it’s time to confess the true circumstances of your birth. Also, it will then be easier for me to explain my unorthodox sex life to you.”

With that, Sally went to get the bottle of wine and two glasses. Returning and removing her shoes, she got in bed next to Beverley and commenced her recitation:

“As I said, I was a virgin until I was in my senior year at Baylor. No, I did not get drunk at a party and surrender my virginity thusly. And no, my defloration did not coincide with the conception of you; I am absolutely certain of that. I need not delve into why I remained a virgin for so long, but needless to say, I was eager to experience sex. So during the fall of my senior year, I was overjoyed to find that there were two men --not one but two -- who were after my body.

I was so starved for male companionship that I could not choose, and so I indulged myself with both. I could not help myself; I was selfish. One of the men was a student with whom I shared some classes; the other was one of my professors. I had sex with them indiscriminately, as often as I could manage within a six week time period.

After ascertaining my pregnancy, my ob/gyn suggested a time frame as to when I had likely conceived, but during that time period I had had sex equally with each of these men. So there was no way of telling who your biological father was at that time. By cruel coincidence, both of these men died before you were born, and so I had lost the practical way of scientifically determining whose flesh and blood you were.

The essential problem of trying to determine conclusively the identity of your biological father is based mainly on the brevity of the affairs. I really did not memorize the minute details of each man’s physical make-up. And so I admit I cannot make a realistically honest educated guess based on your appearance vis-à-vis theirs. Sometimes I think it’s one, and then I think it must be the other. I am sorry, I honestly cannot tell.

I also could not conceive how I could approach each man’s family for co-operation in determining your paternity. First of all, obviously one family would not be yours, so they would forever resent my intrusion at the time of their greatest grief. Further, your actual family would not be necessarily thrilled to have to admit connection with me and especially with you, considering that until I approached them, they would have had no idea I existed. All that I really would have achieved in their view was to sully the reputation of their deceased loved one.

So I decided to let sleeping dogs lie and not open this can of worms. I can, if you like, divulge the names of these two men which till now I have withheld from you. You can then pursue whatever avenue is available to you to try and establish the identity of your biological father.”

“No, that’s OK, Mom. I am content to let sleeping dogs lie, as you say. It’s not like I am the only kid in the world who has grown up without a father. Besides, even if I were to discover the identity of my biological father, it would not change my life one iota. I certainly comprehend that whoever I learn are my blood relatives would not appreciate learning of my existence after all these years. You are a great mother to me -- the only parent I need.”

“Oh, Beverley, I love you so. I can truthfully say that the happiest day in my life was when I gave birth to you. I have always thought it was my good fortune to have become pregnant.”

“OK, Mom, let’s not get too maudlin. I am grateful to now know the true circumstances of my birth. So tell me, Mom, why haven’t you married or at least have had a love affair or affairs, torrid or otherwise? Despite what I’d previously believed, it’s not like you hate sex. If these pictures prove anything, it’s that you crave sex and can’t seem to get enough of it.”

“Well, Beverley, I guess there was a reason I remained a virgin for such a long time. I don’t seem to have the necessary skills or know how to attract a man to me in normal social contacts. As a result, I had virtually no dates during my high school years and no dates during my first three years at Baylor. I can’t even remember the circumstances in which your biological father and the other gentleman latched on to me.”