Mum, I Think I'm a Lesbian

"It was so good, so fulfilling, overwhelming really," she said starting to cry again before adding. "But it makes me feel like a fraud, a sort of monster, a freak even."

"No darling no," I whispered putting both of my arms round her and pulling her against me in which was completely intended as a motherly, consoling embrace. Once more our breasts were squashed together, our tummies right down to our pubic mounds pressed together and our legs were intertwined. "Don't think that, it's nothing like that."

"It is though mum; I've become a bit of an outcast among some of the other girls."

"Have you told Frankie?" I asked loving her body in my arms.

"Yes."

"What does she say?"

With a small laugh she replied. "Fuck 'em just as I have for years."

"Seems good advice."

"But I'm not like her. I am scared."

"Of what?"

"The future, will I go through my life being scorned at, insulted and whatever?"

I kissed her cheek. "No darling you won't there's nothing to scorn or insult and you are not a freak."

Moving her head so she could look into my eyes she said in a whisper.

"Mum I might be."

"Why?"

"Well er, oh mum it's hard for me to say."

"Why darling?"

"Because I am talking to you, to my mother and daughters don't talk about such things to their mums."

"Ok leave it then just say or tell me whatever you are comfortable with."

"Oh bugger, mum I er, um well, sort of...I liked it so much."

"What being with Frankie?"

"Yes, mum making love to her and having her make love to me, it really was amazing."

"I understand, I get that and I am pleased for you," I said quietly.

"Oh, mum you are so cool, it's wonderful that you get it, most wouldn't."

"Well I do, love, I really do," I muttered as our eyes locked.

It seemed that we were holding each other tighter, that our breasts were squashed firmer together, that our stomachs and pubic mounds moulded more tightly and that our bare legs rubbed together more sensuously. We stared at each and I watched as her face moved towards mine. 'She's going to kiss me,' I thought readying myself to turn my head a little so she could kiss my cheek. But she moved too quickly for that and before I hardly knew it her lips brushed against mine. It was too late to move and help her escape from the clear mistake she had made so I stayed still and let her lips squirm against mine. As the kiss went on I began to realise it was not a mistake. It was different to any kiss we had done before and, I realised it was not a kiss that daughters usually give to their mothers. I felt her lips squirming on mine and then amazingly, wondrously and so excitingly I felt them opening and her tongue probing at my closed lips.

Although I had imagined, well fantasised I guess, about this over the past couple of years I had never thought it would happen. But it was happening? Or was I mistaking the enthusiasm of youth for something I hoped for? Surely I was not wrong for we were only partially dressed and in fact further buttons had come undone on my top and both of my breasts were bare. And we were in bed in each other's arms and we were kissing. But was this really a sexual kiss, was there really passion in it, sexual passion? Was the fact that her tongue was pressing against my lips just something that was unavoidable? Was my daughter telling me something or asking me something with her mouth and body? I didn't know what she was saying or asking and I didn't know what to do. Then as she persisted with her lovely lips and enquiring tongue suddenly I did know what to do. Slowly, I opened my lips and let our tongues meet and pressed against each other.

*

As peter and Sophie were leaving around 9.00 I got up at 7.30, slipped into a red silk, just above the knee dressing gown and prepared breakfast. Sara stayed in bed.

"You two were nattering last night weren't you?" Peter said coming out of the guest shower room in just his tight boxers; he looked gorgeous.

"Sorry did we keep you awake?"

"No not at all," Sophie said wandering into the open plan kitchen, dining and sitting areas. She was fully dressed in tight, ankle length, blue jeans and thin, what looked like cashmere, pink, vee neck sweater; she also looked gorgeous and I thought what a lovely looking couple they are.

"So, how's lazy bones?" Peter asked as we ate the modest fruit juice, toast and cereal breakfast.

"Still in bed but she said to get her up to say goodbye."

"Then you had better get her up mum as we need to hit the road soon we have someone coming about the house at eleven."

Much to my chagrin they had moved to Dedham in Constable Country, Suffolk some 110 miles from London where they were building a house on some land Sophie's family owned that she would inherit in due course. As she was a freelance photographer and Peter was now a day trader working from home their location didn't really matter but I missed seeing him.

"I'll get her up."

As Peter got dressed I went to my bedroom. Lying on her front with the duvet pushed back Sara was still asleep. I shook her and she woke.

"Come on love Pete and Sophie are leaving come and say goodbye."

I went back down the open staircase as Peter came out of Sara's room on the mezzanine floor of the duplex apartment.

"She decent?" he asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"Ah well too bad if she's not she should be this time of morning," he said bounding up the short flight of stairs to the top floor that was taken up by the bedroom, ensuite bathroom and another small room that I used as a study.

I chatted to Sophie who was still sitting at the glass topped table about some shots she had taken of me a month or so ago. They were for an exam she had taken to qualify her to teach which she did in addition to her freelance work. I was flattered and she was, obviously very pleased that the photos had won prizes.

Then Peter and Sara, who was still in the short shorts and top with one of the thin straps having slid off her shoulder little came downstairs arm in arm. They were whispering and both laughed as they got near to us. She didn't let go of him when they were standing quite close to the table nor when Sophie and I stood up.

"Have a nice journey out to nowheresville," she said looking at Peter and ignoring Sophie as they got ready to leave.

We all kissed each other with Peter and Sara being quite enthusiastic and Sophie and Sara rather perfunctory. I had often wondered whether there was more to my children's closeness than sibling love!

After they had gone I asked Sara if she would like some breakfast and she had some cereal, juice, toast and green tea. As I prepared it and she ate it she seemed to me to be avoiding making eye contact.

"So that's how you keep that lovely figure is it?" I said smiling as I tried breaking the silence.

I felt embarrassed and guilty about what had happened in bed last night but couldn't think of a way to broach the subject so I said nothing but wondered what she was thinking? Was she appalled at what we had done or annoyed, maybe she felt guilty or embarrassed? Although we had drunk quite a lot and were both probably slightly more than tipsy, looking back I felt she was at least as an active participant as I was, probably even more so.

"Just eat what I want."

"Hardly anything for dinner and now this and I bet you eat nothing much for lunch."

"Mum stop fussing I'm fit and healthy and my weight is constant."

"Ok love, I guess you know what you are doing and as you said you're playing lots of tennis."

Nothing was said for some time as I tidied up the breakfast things and Sara sipped her green tea and messed around on her phone.

I was filling the dishwasher when she came and stood beside me. Again, she looked to be near to tears.

"Mum I am so sorry."

"What for?" I asked suspecting what was to come.

"Last night in bed."

"It's ok, no problem," I said leaning back against the dishwasher and looking at her as she stood a few feet from me.

"But it scared me."

"What did love?"

"How I kissed you."

"It's ok."

"Do you really mean that?"

"Yes of course I do."

"But I shouldn't have done that should I?"

"Who knows?"

"Doesn't that prove I am gay and a pervert?"

"Not sure about that?"

"What kissing a woman like that and that woman being my mother."

"How did it make you feel?" I asked employing the technique I had been taught in the psychology segments of my degree.

"Good."

"Anything else?"

"Well wanted and loved."

"And what's wrong with feeling like that?"

"Because mum," she said moving closer to me so that I could clearly see the indentation of her nipples through the thin, low cut top. "I was also aroused."

"Oh baby," I whispered holding my arms out inviting an embrace that she readily, or so it seemed accepted.

"Like I was with Frankie. Doesn't that prove I am gay?" she mumbled.

"I don't know," I whispered back, pausing before adding. "I did return it love."

"The kiss?"

"Yes."

"Finding my mother so sexy, wanting to hold and feel her and kissing her so deeply surely does mean I'm a lesbian doesn't it? It must."

"Do you want it to?"

"I just don't know."

"Then you have some doubt?"

"Yes, mum yes I do but I find it hard to reconcile my feelings for you as a woman and not a mum and the pleasure I got from making love to Frankie to being straight."

"And you really find me sexy?"

"Yes, and I have done for ages."

"Oh baby," I muttered ruffling my fingers through her lovely hair that was still in the ponytail of last night. For some reason I pulled the rubber band off and smoothed her hair down her face and onto her shoulders; she looked beautiful. "For how long?"

"Since I can remember but mainly since I lost my virginity just after my eighteenth birthday and sex started to play a bigger part in my life."

"And you thought of me?"

"Yes mum," she sobbed. "Yes, I did, I'm sorry."

"Is that why you are so upset about Frankie and what you have done with her."

"In part yes, but there's more."

"What?" I asked cuddling her tighter and revelling in the feel of her body from her face to her feet against mine.

"Oh, mum this is so terrible," she groaned as she moved her unfettered under the tops breasts against mine, "As Frankie and I did it, I imagined it was you."

That crashed into my mind filling it with thoughts and concerns the main one being that as I had masturbated a few times I had imagined I was kissing, holding and having sex with her.

I cuddled her tighter against my body but didn't say anything.

"You're annoyed at me aren't you mum, you think I'm a pervert don't you, a sexual crank?"

"No, no, no darling of course not," I sighed.

"What then?"

I hesitated for some time before whispering right into her ear. "I too enjoyed what we did Sara."

"What in bed, the kiss?"

"Yes darling," I murmured looking into her eyes as she raised her face from my shoulder and looked at me.

"Really mum, did you really?"

"Yes, I did and Sara," I went on after thinking what the best approach might be and deciding to try to remove some of the guilt from her might be. "I would like to do it again."

"Oh god yes, yes please," she groaned beaming a lovely smile and throwing her arms round my neck. "You really mean it mum?"

"Yes darling," I sighed as our mouths met.

There was some hesitation as we got used to kissing on the mouth in the cold light of day in my kitchen area and not in the dim light of my bed. But we got used to it quickly, our inhibitions disappeared and our mouths were open our tongues were probing, our lips were squirming and we were kissing like two lovers. The big, big difference this time was that we were not kissing with just our mouths but almost immediately with our bodies as well. These were touching from our lips to our toes and every area played its part. At first, Sara's hands held my head and mine rested on her hips, but as the kiss went on inevitably they strayed. Our unfettered breasts writhed against each other, our stomachs pressed together and our thighs rubbed.

My thumbs felt the bare skin just above the waistline of her shorts and I could not, even had I have wanted to which I didn't, resist sliding my hands upwards to fondle her just above her waist. As we continued the kiss she showed no resistance to that and I slid both hands inside the shorts and onto her buttocks. I pulled on that and felt her pubic mound on mine. She groaned and I whispered.

"Ok love?"

"Oh yes mum, yes, yes, yes," she replied with a smile in the tone of her voice before her lips joined mine again.

One of her hands slid down my back and the other down my side between my arm and body. Inevitably, accidentally, or purposefully, it brushed against the side of my breast and stopped, still touching it. That made my body jerk and a low grunt slipped from my throat, which caused our lips to part again and just rest against the other. My fingers slowly and softly fondled her buttocks just where the cheeks of her bottom flare out from her body as I felt her hand press against the side of my breast. I didn't move; I didn't dare. I didn't know whether to encourage her to do what my body wanted her, almost desperately, to do or move and encourage her to do what my mind felt she should do. What my maternal emotions wanted or what my womanly desires were. I took the coward's way out and did nothing and felt the pressure increase slightly my heart pounding faster as I realised that she was going to caress my breasts.

And then fuck it the intercom buzzed and I realised it was my cleaning lady arriving for her Saturday full clean of the apartment.

6107

Sara and I hardly saw each other for the rest of the Saturday. I had a golf lesson first thing, a class at the gym early afternoon, two girlfriends were coming for a takeaway at seven and Sara was shopping in the morning then meeting some old school pals for the afternoon and evening.

"It may go on a bit and we could end up at a club so I will probably be late," she told me when I came back from golf to change into my blue, patterned yogas for the gym.

I felt disappointed as probably rather ambitiously I had assumed that we would carry on from this morning, but clearly that was not to be. Although I wanted to, I didn't ask anything or express my disappointment and as she didn't say anything, I remained silent and got ready for my golf lesson.

I had a pleasant evening with my friends, that is when I was able to stop thinking about the 'problem' looming over me. I just couldn't work out what it all meant and where we could go, if anywhere with this. That said as they left I was tingling with anticipation as I waited for Sara to come home but that was crushed when I got a text from her saying that she was at the Sugar Hut, a trendy, young people's pub in Brentwood and was going to 'crash' at a friend's home in Romford. She ended it with. 'See you tomorrow darling and can I stay the night?'

After texting back that she could I went to bed and masturbated thinking of making love to my daughter.

I slept poorly, tossing and turning and wondering just what the fuck was going on? The question that was obviously burning in my mind was 'if a mother and daughter had sex could their relationship survive and in what form? Adding to that were the thoughts that if we made love would that be like a one-night-stand, a fling, an affair or a longer-term relationship? God it was so worrying and complicated and it filled me with guilt but, as I showered, washed my hair and changed the thought of it also so excited me. Standing naked in my bedroom I pondered what to wear and couldn't help thinking that my daughter might later undress me. God what a thought? I asked myself as I slipped into a pair of black with pink markings yoga pants and a pink, silky top with thin straps over my shoulders. I contemplated going braless but thought that looked a little obvious so I wore a white, diaphanous bra but as usual with yogas no knickers and I didn't bother with socks or shoes.

Earlier, Sara and I had exchanged a couple of texts and as agreed she got home around four. She looked tired and beautiful. I asked if she wanted lunch and smiling added. "Or is it breakfast or brunch?"

"No, I'm fine mum, but I'm going to have a shower."

"Perhaps a takeaway later, there's a great new Turkish at West Ferry that delivers."

"Yeah sure anything," she mumbled going into her room.

I was surprised and I guess hurt by her curtness and distance. I had assumed we would talk things through again and maybe make love of some form or the other. But then I rationalised how difficult it must be for a twenty-year-old who had just learned that she was bi or lesbian to have had two erotic sessions with her mother. For Christ's sake it was hard enough for her forty-something-year- old mother to comprehend the last day or so let alone her!

"Sorry mum," she said when she came out of her bedroom a rather agonisingly forty-five minutes later. So many different thoughts were going through my mind all the time she was in there and my emotions were ranging from keen anticipation to dread and from acute excitement to guilt. I opened a bottle of white wine pleased that it was screw top as my hands were not steady enough to cope with the complications of a corkscrew and cork.

Having washed and blow dried her hair that she was wearing down so it tumbled onto her shoulders and chest, she looked fantastic. As usual she was wearing tight jeans and like me no footwear, underfloor heating seems to encourage that. On top she was wearing a short sleeved, thick, blue and white hooped tee shirt.

"That's ok love, like a glass of wine?"

"Yes please."

"Have a good time over in TOWIE country?"

"Yes, it was ok, nothing special but nice to see some of the old gang."

We chatted for a while about her studies, Pete and Sophie and other such trivia. She seemed to be as inhibited and nervous as I was. Nevertheless, I felt the subject had to be broached before she went back to uni and Frankie and thus, we get some degree of closure on us and our issue.

We sat at the kitchen table with our glasses of wine.

"So, you are staying tonight love?"

"If that's ok?"

"Yes of course it is," I said my heart going out to her at how sad she looked.

I reached out and grasped her hands that she was holding together.

"Come on darling, we'll get through this."

"How mum, how will we, I love you?" she groaned tears welling up in her eyes.

I walked round the table and sat on a chair next to her. I put my arm round her shoulder without at that moment I swear, any sexual thoughts in my mind; my daughter was distressed, unhappy and sad and like any mother I wanted to help her. I cuddled her. I pulled her to me and her face pressed against my chest and the swell of my breasts, I cradled it and stroked her hair; she smelt lovely.

"I know darling and I love you too."

"Oh mum, what's it all mean, where's it taking us?"

"We'll work it out," I told her my mind racing almost as fast as my heart was beating.

"I'm sorry I was away all weekend mum."

"That's alright darling, you have your friends and your life to lead, I understand that."

"I didn't need to see them or stay away all night?"

"No?"

"No, I was scared of what I might do if I stayed with you."

"Oh baby, baby," I sighed holding her tightly. "What do you mean?"

"I love you so much mum."

"I know darling and I love so much too," I sighed into her hair.

"But, mum I mean so much, much more than I should."

"I do you as well Sara."

"But do you really? Do you really mum, I mean I know we have kissed, but I want more."

"Yes baby, I know."

"I don't think you do. I want to be with you like I was with Frankie."

"You mean make love?"

"Yes, mum I want to make love to you, does that shock you? Do you really know what I want?"