The Adventures of a Slut Mommie Ch. 02

"Yes, Mistress," I muttered, shutting off the call. I lay there, my eyes blank and seeing nothing except the final image. Me, lifting my head and willingly tonguing Liz's aromatic clitoris, only, as my fingers sped up in my pussy, her pussy morphed into my daughter's tiny, sweet, big clitted one, and it was her I licked.

After another screamed orgasm, my body thrashing and bouncing across the floor, I staggered to my feet and stumbled into the shower. Later, as I peered into the mirror, applying my makeup, I knew something was wrong. But even as I concentrated on what it might be, the thoughts burst into wings and fluttered away, leaving me feeling horny and sexually frustrated. Finished making myself up, I wondered if my son had returned, dressed provocatively for him, and walked to the kitchen.

Kristy was home from her uni class and sat at the breakfast bar in her typical way. Left knee tucked under her bum, and her legs spread wide apart. Because she'd been to class, she was, at least, reasonably conservatively dressed. Only, in this pose, her tight jean shorts clung to every part of her vulva, leaving the outline of her entrance and slit displayed.

Gulping and hoping she couldn't smell my arousal, I looked at her head and walked toward her. Hearing my steps, my daughter looked up, smiled, and teased, "Wow, were you loud, Mum! Three times, I heard you cum. You must be really missing Dad, huh?"

"I will be ecstatic when your father returns," I confirmed. "And I am missing him something fierce." 'Just not for the reasons you're imagining, my girl. Instead of wishing for him to come home and 'ease my needs'. I needed him home to prevent me from tripping my children, so they fell between my willing thighs. Although I wouldn't argue if Sean wanted to 'ease my needs,' I added with an inner giggle.'

Kristy continued smiling and holding my gaze for a little longer before her eyes fell, and a slow blush suffused her face. Looking at the ground, she stifled a small sob and whispered, "I'm sorry about the other day, Mom. I was inappropriate, and you were right to admonish me. I hate that we're not talking, can you please forgive me and be my friend again?"

Using my mother's voice, my conscience castigated me, 'Well done, Katie. You became sexually excited because you desired your daughter, then overreacted and destroyed her trust by yelling at her. Now, instead of you apologising to her, she's crying because she feels you've withdrawn your love. What a good mother you make. Well done you!'

There was only one thing to do, so I did it. I knelt between my daughter's knees, pressed my barely covered breasts against her soft tummy, took her head in my hands, brought it close, and softly kissed the pouting lips on her beautiful face. Running my hands sensuously up and down her inner thighs, my fingers daringly near her shorts-covered pussy, I kissed her again, just a little more firmly and insistently, before whispering, "The problem, my darling girl, was that I was about to orgasm and I was embarrassed because I didn't think that was right."

Running her fingers through my hair, our lips only millimetres apart, Kristy tremulously smiled and quietly asked, "If I hadn't panicked the first time, and Johnny hadn't cum in his pants the second, would you have made me cum those two times?"

Kissing her softly again, barely preventing myself from turning it into a full-on French kiss, I nodded, "Yes, honey, I would have loved to have made you climax both times."

Leaning back as she stared longingly at my lips, wondering if she dared kiss me passionately (Or that's how I interpreted the look), Kristy asked firmly, "Why is it okay for you to make me feel good, but not okay for me to return the favour?"

I didn't have an answer for her as I didn't understand my motivations or reasons. I only knew that making her feel good seemed natural. Something a mother should do for her sexually inexperienced daughter. But receiving pleasure from her smacked of an uneven power exchange. Perhaps I worried that she reciprocated because I was her mother, and she had to, not because she wanted to.

I began sobbing because I felt terrible for hurting her and tried to explain what I'd thought (Described above). Kristy didn't understand what I tried to say, but she accepted that I was sorry, and somehow, we were best friends again. My conscience appreciated that Kristy hadn't pursued me kissing her sensually, but the blazing furnace that had replaced my vagina wished she had.

Standing and pulling me up with her, Kristy pushed me a little away, then took my hand and spun me slowly around. I wore a bright orange cross-over halterneck cut-out side mini bodycon dress and nothing else. A bra would have been redundant as the cross-over pieces cupped and supported my globes beautifully, and I hardly ever wore panties anyway, so I was sans both. My shoes were Gianvito Rossi, seven-inch heeled, suede pumps.

"Phhuuwwweeeeet-Phheeew, Mum!" Kristy whistled. "Wow, you're gorgeous! I wish I looked as good as you!"

"Oh, but you do, my love," I replied. Feeling joyous because my daughter and I were close again, I took her hand and dragged her after me. "Come on. I want to show you something." I guided her upstairs, along the hall, and into the craft room. Searching amongst the shelves, I found the two albums I wanted and brought them to my craft table. Then opening mine to the age my daughter was now, I laid it beside the one I'd recently finished scrapping and began flipping pages over.

As it's impossible to tell height differences between photos unless the subjects are side by side or stand beside some recognisable object, our pictures were eerily similar and could easily have been of the same person. When I commented that Kristy was a virtual mini-me, I didn't exaggerate. In these pics, we looked as if someone had cloned us.

Looking at me wonderingly, Kristy said, "That would mean I could wear pretty much the same clothes as you. We have the same hair, eye and skin colouring and are close enough to the same size. But if I'm as pretty as you, Mom, why don't I have a steady boyfriend?"

Trying to be gentle, I replied, "Because you act cold towards men, honey. The other night, you said you were a virgin, right?" Kristy nodded. "And that you were afraid to go all the way because you feared getting pregnant, yes?" My daughter nodded again. "So, baby girl, that fear makes you standoffish and comes across as you being a cold-hearted bitch too good for any man she sees."

"Did you have that problem as a teenager, Mom," Kristy asked.

Giggling, I coquettishly flounced so my bosom jiggled, then widened my eyes as far as possible, turned and looked back over my shoulder as I held my hair over one side of my neck and let a tiny, amused smile play over my lips before hooding my eyes, pursing my lips and staring at her intently.

With her lips suddenly dry and her hands unknowingly on her nipples, Kristy moaned and said, "OMG, Mom! That was, I dunno, WOW!"

I smiled, "Honey, I had no trouble finding a boyfriend. Most of the time, I had to beat them off with a stick!"

Unawarely kneading her breasts, Kristy bit her bottom lip before pleading, "Will you show me, please? Show me how to do what you just did. That was so sexy that I'm sure men crashed their cars or walked into things when you did it."

"Oh, baby," I sighed. "You don't want that type of attention. It's the type that..." Realising that I was about to say 'sluts', I stopped, afraid of what I might do if I heard that word voiced. But before I could replace it with another, my daughter innocently said, "The type sluts get? Is that what you were about to say, Mom?"

Shuddering as an intense climax ripped through my body, I sank onto the loveseat and tried to pretend I was doing anything else but having an orgasm. However, even someone less experienced than my daughter would know I'd just cum, and Kristy certainly did!

Another piece added to the puzzle, Kristy said, "Do you like being called 'slut', Mommie?" I moaned, and my knees sprang apart. "Slut," Kristy repeated. Shuffling down, I let my dress drag above my hips. "Mommie slut." My daughter tried.

"Please, Kristy," I begged, as my fingers probed between my salaciously spread thighs. But for what I didn't articulate.

Looking at me with curiosity, my daughter asked, "My Mommie slut? A slut for me?"

I protested, "No, Kristy, please! I can't. It's wrong!"

I pleaded, begged and tried to refuse, but my daughter stood, arms folded and staring imperiously down at me, and I slid off the couch, crawled over, and knelt before her. Sobbing, I looked up at my sweet innocent daughter and knew that if she asked, I'd destroy her innocence by eating her sweet, young, virginal pussy.

Luckily, my tears ashamed my daughter, and she dropped to her knees before me and hugged me. Her tears joined mine, and she repeatedly whispered, "I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry, Mom. I'm so sorry, Mom. I thought you were aroused, and I wanted to make you feel good, not cry."

"I am aroused, honey," I sobbed. "The problem is that when someone calls me 'slut'" (I had to stop as I shuddered, trying not to climax), "When someone calls me that name, I become aroused and submissive and will do anything they ask."

"So, if I want a new car," Kristy joked. "All I have to do is call you sl, umm, that word and ask you for one, and you'd buy it for me?"

Relieved because it seemed we'd gotten past our near error, I giggled and said, "I'm not sure if it works that way." Then blushing, and knowing I was putting a lot of trust in my daughter's young hands, I added, "But if you call me... that... I'll probably do anything sexual with you that you ask me to."

Moving forward until she sat on my thighs, her gorgeously mounded, ripe young breasts pressing against my older but barely less firm ones and her hot, wet pussy pressing against my abdomen, Kristy reached around and cupped my ass as she slowly ground against me. "I might take you up on that offer, Mom," Kristy softly moaned. "I've been so hot since that night when Johnny photographed us. No matter how often I masturbate, I'm wet and wanting."

I had to. No, I know what you think, but I had to, as much for my daughter as for me. Leaning back, I tugged my daughter's T-shirt out of her shorts, pulled it over her head and tossed it aside. Then I reached behind her and undid her bra. Tossing that after her T-shirt, I lifted my dress' halter over my head and let it drop, exposing my large 16 Double-D breasts. Running my hands through my daughter's gorgeously long black locks, I grasped the back of her head and pulled her down so I could lock my lips with hers.

With my nipples rubbing across the underside of Kristy's globes, I kissed her chastely. Then, feeling no resistance, I pressed a little harder and sucked more firmly. Turning my head to the side, I ran my tongue insistently along my daughter's lips, demanding entry, and with a soft moan, Kristy's lips parted, and my tongue darted inside. Lifting her tongue to meet mine, Kristy's hands convulsively squeezed my shapely ass as our tongues met in the dance of love and desire.

Releasing our kiss, Kristy leant back and moaned, "Oh, Gawd, Mom, I'm so ready to cum! Help me, please."

I'd already taken advantage of our separation to cup my daughter's sexily rounded breasts as I circled her nipples with my thumbs. So when she begged me to help her climax, I tipped my head forward and wetly ran my tongue around and over her nipples. As I felt my daughter nearing her orgasmic culmination, I encouraged her to stand and undid her shorts before pulling them and her panties down and off her legs. Holding her sexy hips, I sat her on my thighs again, then leaning further back, I worked my hand between us and onto her mound before finding her chunky clit with my fingers.

Gently manipulating her virgin clitoris, I suckled each of her luscious breasts alternately as I listened to her arousal, waiting for the short, sharp pants that would indicate she was about to cum. Smiling when I heard them, I surrounded my daughter's nipple with my mouth and sucked hard. When the first spasm of her orgasm hit, I bit down on Kristy's nipple firmly and sucked as hard as possible. Her climax hit, and my daughter exploded. Screaming and shuddering, she bounced up and down on my lap, with her pussy spewing her juices over my thighs.

Overcome by the intensity of her orgasm, Kristy collapsed forward onto me and fell asleep. Fortunately, I was close enough to the loveseat, so holding her tightly with our lush breasts pressed firmly together, I leaned against it and stroked her hair and back until she recovered. A loud snore woke her, and Kristy sat up dreamily and, with a sweetly innocent smile, said. "Wow, Mom, that was intense, and I've never cum so hard before. Man, do you know your way around a woman's body! Is it always this good?"

Smiling, I cupped her shapely ass and answered, "Honey, before you, I've had sex with exactly one person. Your father, of course." For a moment, my vision clouded, and I heard Edgar Fontaine chuckling as my head lifted and my tongue stretched to lap at his secretary's entrance. Then I guiltily remembered that I'd let her brother have sex with me, too. But I shook it off and continued, "Sex with your dad is always good, so I'm hoping it's always this good for you, too."

My daughter remained kneeling on my upper thighs, smiling happily for quite some time as my need ached in my belly and blazed in my pussy. I needed to cum to release my aching desire, but I couldn't until I was alone and able to masturbate, so I smiled and kneaded Kristy's ass as I waited for her to leave. She had other ideas, though, because she kissed me softly and said, "You made me feel good, Mommie. Please show me how to return the favour."

I didn't want her to because it was wrong. Deep down inside me, where my conscience seemed to be lying curled up in a ball with its eyes closed and fingers in its ears, screaming, "La, la, la. Nothing to see or hear here." I knew it was wrong. But my needs didn't care. The raging inferno others would call my pussy or vagina didn't care. All I could think of was my need to cum, so I smiled and said, "That won't be difficult, honey. Here, let me show you."

Taking her hand in mine, I pushed her back to create a gap for her to access my dripping pussy. Holding my daughter's right hand, I split her thumb away from her fingers, held it against my clitoris, and pushed her first two fingers inside my vulva. Sliding my finger in with hers, I pressed on the backs of her fingers until I felt them pressing against my G-spot.

"Feel that rough area there?" I gasped, my arousal swiftly peaking. Kristy nodded, so I added, "Move your thumb over and around my button as you tickle that rough spot, and I'll have an orgasm, okay?"

Kristy did as I asked, and I was close but couldn't seem to pop off the edge. So, moaning, I pleaded, "Say it."

Not understanding, Kristy frowned and asked, "Say what?"

Desperately needing to cum but unable to, I begged, "That thing you were experimenting with earlier."

Comprehension dawned on my daughter's face, and with a naughty, evil grin, she emphatically stated, "Cum for me, my little Mommie slut."

Oh my, did I cum! Screaming so loudly that my throat hurt for days afterwards, I launched off the pad and blasted into space. Eventually, when my senses returned, I found that Kristy had somehow moved me to my room and onto my bed. Looking down to where she lay cuddled against my generous bosom smiling sweetly, I kissed her upturned lips, giggled and said, "One each. But honey, we can't do this lest we're caught, okay? I'll help you explore your sexuality, but we must remain mother and daughter and not lovers, or people will find out and condemn us."

The days passed uneventfully, and Friday arrived. Standing in the airport foyer, I eagerly awaited Sean's arrival. Although my husband is barely taller than my six-foot frame, his self-confident, almost arrogant walk made him seem inches taller than anyone else in that foyer. Spotting me, Sean grinned and strode across to where I stood. With my pussy tingling because my handsome, dashing husband was near, I leapt into his arms and lifted my knees and wrapped my legs around his hips. Gently kissing me, Sean ground his rapidly rising erection against my blazingly hot pussy, then whispered, "I feel that you missed me, Katie. Shall we race home, or would you like me to fuck you here in the foyer?"

"Here in the foyer," I growled, scared I'd left a blatant wet spot on his trousers where his erection throbbed.

Sean grinned and said, "Slut! Can't you wait until we get home?" Unaware of the effect of that word.

"No!" I gasped as I climaxed, praying nobody had heard or seen.

I'd taken his Audi RS 6 Avant to pick him up. So after greeting him, I submissively handed him the keys. On the way home, I said, "I had an appointment at a hypnotherapy clinic, Sean. The therapist is helping me to quit smoking."

"About time, Katie," my husband growled. "You've smoked those damned things for too long. Has it helped? Or are you still puffing away?"

"I've had half of one cigarette since the appointment, Sean," I replied guiltily, knowing I shouldn't have had any. "But Edgar said I'd probably start smoking again before my next session."

With his hand idly running up and down my inner thigh, unaware of how turned on I was, Sean said, "Edgar's the hypnotist, I assume?"

"Hypnotherapist," I pedantically corrected, wondering why I cared that Sean got his title right.

Laughing, my husband said, "You haven't had any strange impulses to quack like a duck or moo like a cow when someone says a certain word, have you?"

Unknowingly, Sean had hit on what my problem was precisely. Relieved, I opened my mouth to tell him about 'that' word, but before I could, a vision of Edgar's devilishly handsome face intruded, and I heard myself swearing to follow his processes. Then, despite my need for rescue, my throat closed, and I couldn't. Instead, I answered, "Not that I'm aware of, honey, but how would I know?"

Chuckling, Sean promised to tell me if I did something like he'd described and promised to get our kids to watch for it, too. Blushing because I knew they both knew a word that would make me act strangely, and hoping they wouldn't expose my dirty secret, I grabbed my husband's hand where it maddeningly stroked, sending intensely erotic sparks flying to my pussy, separated two fingers, and pressed them into my flooded vagina.

Turning to smile at my obvious need, Sean said, "Oh, my little Katie slut, are we a little needy tonight?" Twenty years of marriage, and he'd never used that name for me before tonight. Then, unaware of how that word affected me, he innocently, jokingly said it and an immense climactic event crashed over me. Holding Sean's thumb pressed hard against my clit, I groaned, barely stifling screams, and pumped my hips against its delicious pressure.

"I guess you missed me, huh?" Sean chuckled. "Good, because I missed you, too." Taking his fingers out of my pussy, he briefly held them to his nose, sampling their delicious aroma before picking up a cloth and wiping them dry.

I knew my husband's declaration of missing me was probably true, but unlike me, Sean wouldn't have gone without sex for his entire trip. Sean needs his secretary Amanda to type notes, make appointments and create the documents required, so she always travels with him.

I knew they slept together on these trips because Amanda had gleefully told me they did during one of the office parties. I guess she expected me to react jealously and angrily confront my husband because she probably hoped to permanently replace me in his bed. When I threw my head back and laughed, she gaped at me with dull surprise. A look I thought fitted her vapid mush appropriately. Then, laughing again, I grabbed her elbow and pointed out the six other women currently there that I knew my husband had been intimate with.