The Road to Sin

She adjusted her position slightly and I found her clit pressing to my lips. Mine is just a little button but Nicole's seemed huge, more like a stalk, and I sucked and flicked it until, with a squeal, she dismounted me and rolled back onto the bed. After resting for a couple of minutes she French kissed me again, squeezed my breast and whispered "See you tomorrow – ooh, later this morning – lover." With that she returned to the room she was sharing with my daughter. My mouth felt dry and sticky, and I tottered to the kitchen and swirled around several mouthfuls of tap water before returning to bed and an exhausted sleep.

I was nervous of seeing Nicole the next morning; she acted perfectly normally at breakfast but I couldn't make eye contact with either of them and I hardly said a word. We'd booked a coach tour into the mountains together and, as Amy wanted to concentrate on taking photographs, at Nicole's urging she sat in a single seat at the front of the bus while Nicole and I sat further back in a double.

At first Nicole chattered away quite normally, not thrown by my monosyllabic responses. I wanted to talk to her about what had happened the previous night but I had no idea how to, and anyway we were on a coach full of fellow holidaymakers. As the coach began to rise to higher altitudes, and the temperature started dropping, Nicole threw over our knees the light blanket provided by the tour organisers. Almost immediately I felt her hand slipping under the waistband of my shorts. I grabbed at her wrist to try to stop her but she simply slapped my hand away, then her groping hand slipped into my undies and cupped around my pussy mound.

Nothing more happened for maybe ten minutes and I tried to relax, but then, here eyes apparently fixed on the passing scenery, Nicole flexed a finger, pushing the tip into my pussy. She slowly swirled it around and I felt a fire spark inside me and start to flick its flames into my belly and beyond. As I became steadily wetter I tried not to display any reaction on my face, but it wasn't easy as my breathing deepened and quickened. Incredibly I felt completely in the thrall of this wicked, sexy young woman, unable to prevent her doing whatever she wanted with me. When she'd had her fun she withdrew her hand, but made me suck my nectar off her finger.

She continued to toy with me all day, stroking my bum crease inside my clothing, rubbing her upper arm rhythmically against my boob, grazing her fingernails seductively across my belly or my inner thigh...I begged her to stop, but by the end of the trip I was a nervous wreck and the gusset of my panties was sticking to my pussy lips. Unsurprisingly Amy still seemed worried something was wrong with me and asked several times if I was okay. At dinner that evening she and Nicole sat beside each other and were their usual lovey-dovey selves but a few times Nicole slyly stroked my legs with her bare toes, once even reaching above my knee.

When I returned to my apartment my head was spinning and I felt utterly confused – appalled by my own behaviour, guilty at the sins I was committing, ashamed of the way I was letting Nicole control me, yet tingling from her touches through the day and excited at my physical arousal. Before showering and brushing my teeth I slid the bolt across on the connecting door between our apartments; but shortly afterwards, just before I got into bed, blushing at the act, I slid the bolt back again.

Sure enough, after a while I felt a coolness on my back as Nicole lifted the duvet and slid into my bed beside me, spooning herself to me and stretching an arm over me to squeeze my boob. Meekly obeying my mistress's demands I turned to face her and we French kissed, our breasts mingling together, each of with fingers in the other's pussy. Once again she kissed her way down my body and wormed her face between my thighs, sucking, licking, nibbling and kissing me to another powerful orgasm. I fell asleep with my head on her chest, her nipples slick with my saliva.

Sometime later I awoke as a busy mouth feasted on my pussy yet again. I heard myself sighing and whispering "Oh god, yes" as a tongue burrowed into me. Then a mouth adhered to mine and a tongue entered my mouth, licking around my gums. It took me a few seconds to cotton on that I was being pleasured by two mouths, and I raised my eyelids to find myself looking into Nicole's amused eyes. With a dreadful, chilling realisation I pushed her away and looked down the bed to see a head of blonde cotton rows between my thighs as my own daughter lapped at me. I pushed myself up on my elbows and screamed "Oh my god, no Amy sweetie, you can't do this."

Amy raised her head momentarily and, her eyes shining, teasingly murmured "I'll stop, Mummy, if you really want me to." Of course I wanted her to stop, this was my final fall and I felt damned, but as she started pumping her fingers in and out of my throbbing pussy, licked at my clit, and worked two fingers deep into my anus, and as Nicole pushed me back onto the mattress and fed one of her breasts into my mouth, I found myself panting and whimpering, and accepting my daughter's busy tongue and fingers as they coaxed me to a further crashing, thrashing, screaming, sobbing, explosive climax.

After that amazing, wonderful, terrible night I tried to roll things back, I really did; but by the end of the holiday I had become skilled at eating the pussies of both my mistress and my daughter, each of them had fucked me in pussy and arse with a huge strap-on dildo, and one night we lay in a circle on their bed, each of us simultaneously eating a pussy and being eaten out.

As I sat in the flight home I thanked the Lord that I'm not a Catholic otherwise I'd have been damned to Purgatory for all eternity. As it was, I felt deeply guilty at having committed such dreadful carnal sins, particularly with my own child, but at the same time I felt more sexually sated than I had throughout the entire 22 years of my marriage to Amy's father.

Just before we flew home Amy had told me that she was going to move in with Nicole, and after we landed she handed me a scrap of paper bearing Nicole's mobile number and the number of Amy's new phone which she'd bought in duty free before we left. When I got home I screwed up the paper and threw it in the kitchen litter bin, thankful that temptation and sin had been removed from my home and I could return to the straight and narrow of my church life. But two days later, just before the trash went out to be collected, I fished the numbers out of the bin again and, fingers trembling, dialled Nicole's number.