The Circle

The unemployed mother

All alone in her flat, the unemployed mother is a bit worried. Almost an hour ago, her husband has left the flat to go get milk for tomorrow's breakfast and no sign of him so far. Hoping for the best she finishes the dishes. The girls should come home soon too; they went out after diner to hang around with some friends. If she hasn't heard from him when they get back she will walk to the store to find him. With a wet clothe she wipes the kitchen table, turns of the light and goes to the bathroom. She undresses and takes a shower.

Day after day, the person looking back at her in the small mirror of the flat's bathroom looks more and more like a stranger to her. To think that just eight months ago, she had a nice little desk job. Is that a white hair in the middle of her generous dark mane? She just turned forty and she already looks older than her mother at the same age. She looks at her curves. She's always been really proud of her body, not a hint of extra weight, at her age it's almost a miracle.

But for the last six months her couple hasn't been intimate once. But she gets it. Her husband is so tired at the moment, so many extra hours he has to work just to allow their little household to reach the end of the month in descent conditions. Losing a job, is like losing purpose, but tomorrow will be the day. Tomorrow she'll get a positive answer to one of the three hundred and thirty two job applications she sent and in a week she'll start working again. She knows it.

A key in the door, at last!

"Honey, I'm in the bathroom, give me a minute and I'll be with you."

She turns on the faucet; she bends and splashes her face. As the cold water sprays her face, she realizes that, like her husband, she is tired too, tired of waiting for answers that never come, tired of the uncertainty of tomorrow, just plain tired.

A pair of hands falls on her hips. The face dripping with water she grabs a towel, turning around. She stops for a second; her husband does look tired, sick even. But a flame burns in his eye. A flame she hasn't seen in quite a while. He pins her to the sink, thrusting the hard lump in his pants against her pelvis.

"What took you so long?" she asks casually.

He doesn't answer. He gets closer, living a gentle kiss on her lips. He is cold. His tongue pushes through. She takes the kiss. A passionate kiss like the ones he used to give her when they started to go out, twenty years ago. He tastes weird and his saliva is cold. She runs her tongue against his teeth.

"Ouch," she says pushing him away.

A warm liquid starts pouring inside her mouth.

"I think I cut myself," she says candidly.

He still doesn't answer but comes back with even more eagerness for another kiss. He's now sucking on her saliva. That's a bit weird, she thinks, but not unpleasant. Actually the pain is almost gone. Strange warmth starts filling her. She closes her eyes abandoning herself to the sensation. A shiver runs down her spine, there's something wrong with her husband but she's unable to pinpoint what. Is it his coldness, the grayish tone of his skin, the fire burning in his eyes, the strong smell of sex all over his body, the many disappearing pink twin scars that cover his neck, his wrists? Anyhow she doesn't care.

He pulls off the towel she's wearing, letting it fall on the ground. Somewhere, in a remote corner of her mind, a corner that hasn't been clouded yet by the fog of pleasure that is taking her, a part of her wants to protest. Honey I'm tired. The girls should be here any minute. At least close the door. But even that part of her mind is soon silenced by the incommensurable wave of guilty pleasure.

He releases her, making her turn facing the mirror.

"Where is he?" She wonders, unable to see his reflection behind hers.

She can feel his strong and cold hands on her nude back, massaging her sore shoulders, running up the back of her neck into her wet hair. But in the mirror she's all alone. He takes out his dick, stiff against the base of her back, between her butt cheeks.

"There he is!" She thinks when his shaft penetrates her too long disregarded intimacy.

His mouth finds its way up her back, on her shoulder, along the thin line of her neck.

She screams when finally her man tears through her skin, a scream of pleasure, a scream of release, a guilt free scream.

And the circle throws a new member into it's never ending race. A poor suffering creature is lifted above the petty mortal worries of the human world into the enlightened heights of simplicity that make the primal beast's mind.

Michelle has forgotten about tomorrow, she has forgotten about her problems, about the money, about all the loans, about the job hunting. All that's left is love.

Wrapped in a large white bathrobe, Michelle walks around the flat. The lights are off but it doesn't seem to bother her. She finds a pile of rejection letters and laughs. She walks to the kitchen feeling thirsty but the tap water has a weird smell and the coke she opens tastes like dirt. She walks to her bedroom. Her husband is gone. Normally she would worry but not tonight, not tomorrow either and never again, he is a strong man, a loving men, she shouldn't worry.

Her daughters' room door is closed. She opens it. The twin beds are undone. The girls aren't home yet. She walks to the one on the left, Barbara's, her oldest. Barbara's who is leaving home soon, Barbara who got them so worried because of her mixing with the wrong kind, Barbara who got her act together and got accepted in a small university in Colorado. Michelle lies down.

The sheets smell wonderful, they smell of youth and innocence. They also smell of sex, not shared sex but self inflicted. Michelle feels proud of her daughter, of her becoming a woman, of her discovering her body, of her experiencing love. Michelle starts picturing her daughter, a hand between her dark thighs thinking of some stud from school. A dreamy finger slips inside Michelle. She wants to give her daughter the overflow of love she feels. She moans.

A noise coming from the entrance. The alarm clock displays three thirty. A series of giggles break the deafening silence of the flat. The girls are here, Michelle is happy. She will surprise them. She stands and hides in the closet. The two girls enter the room. The giggles continue. Through the tiny opening of the closet door, Michelle observes her daughters stumble around the darkness of the room. A distinct smell fills the room. It's a combination that Michelle recognizes without problem. Her daughters, her delicious teenage daughter are covered with a combined aroma of alcohol and sex, both of them.

Michelle licks her lips. A few hours ago she would have gone mad; terrified at the idea of losing her innocent children to the clutches of some sloppy teenager but now she knows what innocence is. Innocence is freedom from morals; it's accepting natural needs and indulging them as often as possible. And in that sense her daughters are more innocent than she ever realized.

When Jenna, her youngest, undresses, Michelle's hit by yet another smell. A powerful and tantalizing smell that obscures all the other fragrances in the room. Michelle feels her love growing beyond measures.

"Barbara?" says the youngest sister.

"Yes, Jenna." says the eldest.

"Barbara, I wanted to thank you."

"Well you're very welcome; it's the least I can do for my little sister."

"I was so afraid," Jenna continues, "at first it was a bit painful but after it was so good. And I think Mike liked all the tricks you showed me. I love you Barbara, you're the best sister ever."

"Thank you, I love you to, now hush we don't want mom and dad to wake up. We should have been home hours ago."

"I know, good night big sis."

"Good night little sis."

Michelle can feel her fangs growing, her urges are overwhelming her, she has to feed, she has to quench her thirst. She steps out of the closet.

Jenna and Barbara jump in their beds.

"Who's there?"

Jenna turns on the light.

"Mom? What... What were you doing in our closet?" Barbara asks.

Jenna realizes that her mother must have heard the whole conversation and starts to cry. Not answering Michelle walks to the bed of her youngest. She seats by her side, just like she used to when she read them a story. She passes her fingers over Jenna curly hair, down her cheek collecting a tear in the process. She turns to Barbara.

"Come seat here sweetheart, we have to talk." She says.

Hesitant Barbara joins her mother and her sister on the little bed. Michelle sensually licks the salty wetness from her finger.

"Now Jenna, don't cry anymore, it tears my heart to see you suffer like this."

Jenna hardly holds back a last sob and looks with curiosity at her mother.

"It's been a long time since we had a conversation like this, mother and daughters," Michelle starts, "you must have been worried about me in the last months. No, no, don't deny it, I saw it on your faces. But you don't need to anymore, I have great news. Some things have changed tonight and from now on it will all be for the best."

"Have you found a job, mom?" Jenna asks.

Michelle's hand has now moved on Jenna's thigh. The head of her youngest is resting against her cold chest.

"No, well not exactly. You see, your daddy went for milk tonight but he came back changed." Michelle continues.

She takes the hand of her oldest.

"Mommy, you're so cold." Barbara says.

"Yes, I know, don't worry, now what was I saying?"¨

Her hand is now slowly climbing along Jenna's chocolate thigh.

"Oh yes, well your daddy came back changed and he gave me a gift. And that gift, I want to share it with you two now."

"Mom, what are you doing? Stop it, it feels weird!" Jenna jumps as Michelle's finger slides up her slit collecting the sticky remnants of her daughter's evening adventures.

"Yes, but don't you like it?" she says licking her finger.

Barbara tries to break free of her mother's grasps but Michelle's cold fingers won't let her go. Jenna is losing herself in her mother's terrible stare.

"I...I do, but... isn't it wrong?"

"Wrong? Well that's part of dad's gift, you get a much clearer view of what is right and what is wrong." Michelle says licking her long fangs.

Seeing her mother's transformation Barbara starts to scream.

"Hush now," Michelle says, "You don't want someone to interrupt us, don't you?"

Barbara lips seal but all her fear is still visible in her eyes. Michelle turns back to Jenna. She has gently spread her daughter's legs, carefully, one at a time. With the tip of her fingers she starts circling around her clit. Jenna lifts her chin under the pleasure exposing her throat to the hungry fangs of her mother.

Michelle turns to Barbara.

"Stop fighting me, you ungrateful slut," she spits, "I've carried you around for nine months now it's high time I get some payback from you."

"Yes mom," Barbara says submitting, "I'm sorry mom."

She kneels, opens the folds of the white bathrobe and starts licking the drenched hole she came out of so many years ago. Michelle gently caresses her head.

"Yes, that's it, gently and deep inside, exactly the way your dad does it, exactly how I like it," she says before bending over Jenna's hazel neck.

Under Michelle's fangs, Jenna's skin shatters. The red blood pours down her mother's mouth, brimming over her lips, slowly covering her dark chin, neck, spilling over her tits, her belly, down her pubis, all over Barbara's face. Michelle's finger is no longer on the clit of her youngest; it's deep inside her recently desecrated intimacy, rubbing against the drenched walls, bringing Jenna to her first real orgasm of her young adult life.

Soon the source of life that her daughter has become starts running dry. Michelle withdraws her fangs, lays her daughter down on the bed, covering her as the last drops of her blood pours on the pillow.

"Now sleep, little angel," she says in a quiet yet stuttering voice, "soon you'll wake up and we'll be happy together forever."

She grabs Barbara's hair enjoying the daring tongue of her daughter who has now moved on to lick her ass. After a violent orgasm, she finally pulls her out of her crotch. She bends and licks her own juices mixed with her daughter's blood from her other daughter's cheeks.

"As for you sweetheart, I will show you what being a woman is..."

She turns off the lights and drags Barbara to the other bed. There they lay together and for a long time they make love, taking turns pleasuring each other, exploring new ways to express their mother daughter love. Finally not long before the sun rises over the city, Jenna joins them and mother and daughter bring their last relative into the circle.

The never ending circle of life and death goes on night after night for your reading pleasure. As the sun rises over the city, it's time for us to go to sleep, because the only thing that will stop the circle is the day. Although it will only delay it, delay it until the sun goes down again and the circle resumes its course.

Until next time dear reader, I wish you all the best and hope that you too will encounter the circle on a dark and stormy night, so you can join us in the round of love and pleasure.