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An Afternoon’s Delight, Part Two

  • Posted on September 12, 2015 at 10:17 am

By JetBoy

I can’t exactly remember how I got there, only that I’m somehow seated in a nearby chair, drinking in huge gulps of the cool, clear afternoon air. My eyes slowly flutter open, and there is my Cinnamon, standing before me with both hands clasped shyly before her. Mom’s arms are wrapped around my baby’s thin waist.

“I love you, Mommy!” squeals Cinnamon, the nude little imp climbing into my lap and squirming deliciously against me. “That was even more fun than I had with Susie!” She peers up at me, blushing. “Can we kiss some more? Pretty please?”

Our mouths seem to drift together, and I sigh in happy disbelief as my daughter feeds me her tongue. I respond, kissing the girl with a passion that warms my soul.

And then there is my mother, perched on the arm of the chair, the heat of her mouth brushing my neck. I turn to her, and she crushes her lips to mine, cupping my face between both hands and fucking me with a probing tongue. I lose myself in Mom’s embrace, letting her have me.

Then she breaks away, turning to stare lustfully at Cinnamon, and their mouths slowly come together. I marvel at the sight of my own mother and daughter, French kissing like the most ardent of lovers. I can already feel my desire reawakening, as if the earthshaking orgasm I’d just been nailed by had been scarcely more than a tremor.

Their lips gently part, and Mom glances at each of us in turn. “So,” she murmurs, a curious gleam in her eyes, “who’s Susie?”

My child blushes and giggles, and suddenly seems to be very interested in a patch of grass near her feet. I answer: “She’s Cinnamon’s best friend… though you could say that Susie is, well, her first lover.”

My daughter peers at me as she mulls over this bit of information… then a huge smile appears on her face. “Wow, yeah…” she whispers. “That’s so cool!”

Mom laughs, placing a hand on Cinnamon’s neck, lightly stroking her granddaughter’s soft skin. “Well, that’s very sweet…” Her hand slips down my child’s chest, fingers brushing her tiny nipples. “…and you’re truly a lucky little lady. By my count, you have three lovers now.”

“Ah, yes,” I reply, grinning hugely. “I think you’re right.”

Cinnamon glances from me to Mom and back again, puzzled for a heartbeat or two. Then she squeals in giddy delight, throwing both arms around my neck and hugging me, sobbing, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Before I can draw a breath she’s sliding from my lap and racing to her grandmother to embrace her every bit as tightly, burying her face in Mom’s generous breasts.

My mother nuzzles Cinnamon’s light blond hair, reaching down to squeeze her cute little bottom. Then, with a gentle pat, Mom straightens. “Come, ladies… let’s move this party indoors.”

I stand on somewhat unsteady legs, and we three march naked into my mother’s house, leaving our clothes and swimsuits scattered around the pool.

Mom leads the way, giving Cinnamon and I a good look at her shapely ass. My mother is a still-sexy forty-six, having had me after getting pregnant as a high school sophomore. She’s built like one of those nudes in a Renaissance painting — lively, luscious and full-figured.

Her buttocks are moving enticingly as she mounts the stairs, and my daughter and I exchange a mischievous glance when we catch each other staring. “Look at Grandma’s bottom!” she whispers excitedly.

I can’t help but agree. Few things thrill me more than a woman’s sexy ass, and I was already imagining burying my face between Mom’s cheeks and licking her butt crack. Soon, I promised myself.

I grin at my daughter. “We had a saying, back when I was a teenager,” I tell her, my eyes shifting back to Carol’s jiggling rump. “It went, ‘Do fries go with that shake’?”

Cinnamon grins back. “She’s bootylicious!”

As we reach the top of the staircase, Mom studies us with folded arms, a mock-scowl on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. “If you youngsters are finished passing racy comments on my ass, we’ve got business to attend to.” She leads us into her bathroom, pointing to the shower. “You’re not getting that oil on my Versace sheets.”

I roll my eyes in amusement as we pile inside, Mom bringing up the rear.

Three people in a shower designed for one is a pretty tight squeeze, but it can be a marvelous experience if you’re into it. And we are definitely into it.

Mom pops open a bottle of orange body wash, and the air quickly fills with the scent of citrus as we slather one another with the stuff. And then the fun really gets started.

How delicious it is, the three of us carrying on like horny school kids in the shower; bodies slipping and sliding together in a tangle of sweet-smelling flesh, hands wandering freely. Cinnamon demands more kisses, so Mom and I take turns reaming her pretty little mouth with our tongues. But everyone gets their share of attention in a steamy lesbian make-out session that quickly sharpens our appetites for a further round of fun and games — to be resumed in Mom’s bed.

We emerge, our bodies glowing pinkly, and take turns toweling one another dry before Cinnamon squeals “Come on!” racing into my mother’s adjoining boudoir. She leaps onto Mom’s unmade bed and jumps up and down impatiently as we grownups follow. “Come on come on come on come on!”

“Little imp,” growls Mom, scooping a giggling Cinnamon into both arms and waltzing her around the room, rocking her to and fro a few times like an infant before throwing her back on the bed. My little girl shrieks with delighted laughter as she bounces, then falls silent, staring eagerly at Mom.

Absently letting her towel drop to the carpet, my mother climbs onto the bed, staring into Cinnamon’s eyes, desire written plainly on her face as she reaches out for my daughter’s hand. She tugs the little girl into her arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace. My child tilts her head back to gaze adoringly at her grandmother, then closes her eyes, waiting to be kissed.

I quietly seat myself at the end of the bed, heart thumping at the enchanting sight of my mother and ten-year-old child coming together as lovers. Mom bends down to claim Cinnamon’s mouth with her own, and they kiss gently, lingeringly. Then my daughter’s tongue emerges to play, and Mom sucks at the fluttering pink tip.

Things heat up rather quickly at that point. Suddenly my mother is groping Cinnamon’s bottom and tongue-fucking her childish mouth, while my little girl’s hands explore Mom’s breasts, plucking at the engorged nipples.

Then my daughter is peering back over her shoulder at me, her eyes positively dancing. “Come play with us, Mommy!”

“In a minute, honey,” I reply. “I want to watch you and your grandmother for a little while.”

“Okay,” Cinnamon coos, turning back to Carol and throwing both arms around her neck. They kiss again, and I thrill to the sight of the lustful heat that flows between woman and child, watching their tongues meet and mingle. Then Mom slowly falls back onto the bed, carrying Cinnamon with her.

I’m gently fingering my cunt while my child and my mother make love, rolling about on the bed; their hands eagerly exploring one another’s nude bodies as they kiss again and again.

Then Mom is on her back, and Cinnamon wriggles on top of her, announcing, “Stay still, Grandma, and don’t move… it’s my turn, I get to do stuff to you now!” Her jaw is firmly set, her voice insistent.

My mother laughs joyously, relaxing back into the sheets. “How can I say no?” she coos, stroking my child’s bare back. “I can’t resist you, my sweet little nymph.”

“You better not even try!” Cinnamon growls. She squirms down Mom’s body like a slippery pink fish, fastening her mouth to a generous breast.

“Jesus,” my mother moans, cradling Cinnamon to her.

My child sucks at the left nipple, then the right; fondling Mom’s breasts with both hands while she nurses. I can feel a deep pulse in my cunt that builds to a roar as I anticipate my darling Cinnamon loving me in the same forbidden way.

Then she is leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her grandmother’s body, pausing to dart her tongue into Carol’s belly button. Mom gasps in surprise, eyes popping open for an instant; then they drift shut as she murmurs, “Silly girl.”

Grinning, my daughter continues downward, nuzzling Mom’s tummy and lower until she is lying between her grandmother’s thighs, staring at her juicy cunt. Cinnamon moistens her lips, then presses her mouth into the generous tuft of Mom’s pubes.

This is no tentative, cautious licking. My little girl is going down on Carol with everything she has, eating pussy and loving it. Her blissful humming and the wet, slurping sounds Cinnamon makes become a lustful music that perfectly accompanies her grandmother’s moans and cries. Mom’s fingers are tangled in Cinnamon’s golden tresses, holding my daughter’s face to her sex as she whispers “Sweet child… oh God — oh God I love you…”

Then my mother’s eyes flutter open, meeting mine. “C-come here, Angela,” she pants, “right now. I want to… to taste your cunt.”

I quickly crawl toward Carol, moving on all fours until I’m kneeling beside her. Without a word I straddle her face, slowly lowering my sex to Mom’s open mouth. I’m dripping wet and ready for her, but still feel a surprising jolt of ecstasy when she hits me with that first kiss, then thrusts her tongue deep into my hole.

“Fuck, Mom!” I exclaim, parting my thighs even wider for this delicious penetration.

I am bowed forward while I ride her mouth, taking in the incredible sight of my ten-year-old Cinnamon performing cunnilingus on her grandmother. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure, her nose buried in the dark curls of Carol’s bush. It’s lesbianism, incest and pedophilia tangled up in one glorious knot of taboo sexuality, and I’ve never witnessed anything so beautiful.

Wanting to share in my baby’s happiness, I lie down on top of Mom, pressing my breasts into her belly as I bring my face to within a few inches of my daughter’s. “I love you, Cinnamon,” I breathe, on the verge of joyful tears as I gaze upon my dreamy-eyed child.

Cinnamon lifts her face from my mother’s vulva, her mouth and chin shiny with moisture, and we meet in a heated kiss that has my head reeling. My daughter and I swap tongues, sharing the sharp, sweet tang of Carol’s cunt between us. Breaking away, she gasps “I love you too, Mommy!” then burrows between her grandmother’s legs once more.

Mom’s mouth is doing incredible things to my pussy, her tongue circling the entrance, pausing occasionally to flick at my clitoris. It’s clear that she is well versed in the art of lesbian love, and I wonder how the secret of her passion for women could have eluded my notice for so very long.

Cinnamon’s lips are glued to Mom’s cunt, so I allow my fingers to join in the action, seeking out the fleshy nub of Carol’s clitoris. A shudder races through her body in response. I feel Mom’s finger pressing against my rosebud, seeking entrance. I’m already moist there, so she penetrates my anus easily, with one smooth stroke.

The very breath seems to rush from my lungs as my mother’s finger pushes inside — and it somehow becomes a strangled cry as a convulsive orgasm comes down, smashes into me like a crumbling wall.

I am shaking helplessly when I come, especially my arms and legs — but somehow I manage to keep rubbing Mom’s clit. And then she is climaxing along with me, her body bucking beneath mine as she moans into my vulva. Through blurred eyes I glimpse Cinnamon’s head moving along with my mother’s churning hips; my little girl hanging on tightly, still eating Grandma’s pussy.

I ride the pounding waves of ecstasy as far as they will take me, then drift back to shore dazed and concussed, sprawled atop my mother’s soft, womanly frame. She lies nearly motionless beneath me, her breath warm against my still-tingling sex and the length of her finger still buried in my rectum. Cinnamon is nuzzling my face, whispering fervent declarations of love. Then she crawls to the head of the bed to do the same for her grandmother, idly caressing my ass while she kisses Mom.

It takes my mother and I a moment to collect ourselves after ecstasy of such magnitude, and once we catch our breath, Carol and I turn our attention to my darling daughter. We trap Cinnamon between us, showering her with caresses. Needless to say, my ten-year-old proves to be a most willing prisoner.

Mom has yet to taste Cinnamon’s pussy, and very much wants to, so she lies between my baby’s thighs and begins to lavish affection on her bare slit. As for me, I hold the child in my arms, fondling as much of her as I can reach, kissing her little-girl mouth again and again. My fingers tease her nipples, then lightly pinch them.

Cinnamon is placid at first, purring like a newborn kitten as Mom and I make love to her. Soon, though, she is squirming in my grasp, mewling helplessly in the grip of her mounting pleasure. She moans into our kissing, her tongue tangling sweetly with mine. Then she breaks away, burying her face against my shoulder, panting furiously. Her fingernails bite into my skin where she clutches me.

I glance down the length of Cinnamon’s body for a glimpse of my mother as she licks and kisses her granddaughter’s vagina. I’m struck by how happy she looks, as if there was no place she’d rather be but in bed with me and my child. Suddenly I wonder if this is the first time Carol has made love to a little girl.

My thoughts are interrupted by my daughter’s wild cry, torn from her body as she seizes up in orgasm. She falls away from me, body arching from the bed, little fists snatching at the sheets while Mom suckles her clitoris.

On impulse, I begin to lick at her nipples, bathing the tiny pink buds with my tongue. Cinnamon throws her arms around my neck, clutching me tightly to her flat chest, panting “Oh, Mommy, f-feels so good Mommy oh oh yes OHHHH!” Her voice rises to a sharp squeal, then she goes steel-rigid for a few seconds before collapsing limply into my embrace.

I cradle my naked little girl to me, calming her, brushing the bangs from her damp face. Mom crawls up from the foot of the bed to lie on the other side of Cinnamon, and we hug my precious ten-year-old between us. Carol’s mouth is sticky with my daughter’s essence, and I lean over Cinnamon to lick at my mother’s lips, eager for a taste. Placing a hand upon the back of my head, Mom crushes her mouth to mine in a hot, hungry kiss.

Finally we part, the two of us out of breath and staring into one another’s flushed faces. I see something in Mom’s eyes that tells me that we’ve shared something more than just lesbian sex, and the golden warmth I feel in the pit of my belly seems to be in agreement. Am I falling in love with her? I wonder.

I look down at my daughter, still nestled cozily between Mom and me… only to find her wearing a sulky expression, thrusting out her lower lip. “Don’t I get any kisses?” she pouts.

My mother and I exchange a glance and a quick grin; then we pounce at the same instant on my suddenly giggling little girl, the two of us kissing her face over and over again until Cinnamon howls with laughter, finally begging us to stop.

We three lie snuggled together, blissfully content. The bedroom window is open, and sounds of the dimming afternoon drift through. There are still a few birds chirping, and the faint voices of playing children can be heard down the street. A lawnmower sputters into action, dies with a cough, then starts again.

My hand is resting on Cinnamon’s bottom, and I lazily cup a small, soft cheek. She gently nuzzles my breast, and I feel a surge of adoration for my child that warms me from head to toe. I’m in love with her, too, I tell myself. What a situation.

My reverie is interrupted when my daughter suddenly lifts her head up to announce, “I’m hungry.”

Kids. I roll my eyes in amusement — then pause as I realize how long it’s been since lunch. And we’ve just had quite the workout, after all. Hmmm… yes, it’s definitely time for what Winnie-the-Pooh calls “a little something.”

I raise my head to look questioningly at Mom. She glances from Cinnamon to me, then back again. With an affectionate laugh, she rises to her feet, stretches languidly, then smiles. “Come with me, ladies.”

Still naked, we three troop downstairs to the kitchen where, amidst much jollity, we manage to fill a large serving tray with sliced fruit, cubes of several different cheeses, and rounds of bread cut from a long fluted loaf. Mom selects a good Cabernet, Cinnamon unearths a bottle of grape juice from the cluttered refrigerator, and I grab three glasses before we march back up to the bedroom in the merriest of moods.

Mom takes a quilt from the closet and spreads it over the bed, and we hungrily tuck into our improvised feast. Soon we begin to feed one another with our fingers, which quickly becomes a sensual game as we alternate nibbles of cheese and fruit with kisses. Mom dabs my nipple with a wine-moistened finger, then bends to lick it… and Cinnamon and I pass a chunk of apple back and forth with our tongues.

Finally, our bellies satisfied, we sprawl out on the bed and discuss what we’ve done this afternoon; how it might affect our lives as a family. I admit to feeling a bit apprehensive about entering into a sexual relationship with my mother and child, while Cinnamon wonders if I could really “be my mommy and my girlfriend at the same time.”

None of us are sure what the future will hold, but there is one point upon which all of us agree: come what may, we want to remain lovers. What we’d just shared in the heat of sexual intimacy was much too good, too precious to give up.

That established, we relax and begin to regale one another with tales of our lesbian experiences.

Mom goes first, describing how she had been seduced by one of her best friends at the tender age of sixteen. From then on, she preferred women as her sexual partners, but dabbled with men occasionally. My father, who she’d met in college, had actually known of her bisexuality from the start, and had allowed her to take female lovers, as long as she was discreet about it — which, as it transpired, included keeping her lesbian affairs a secret from me while I was growing up.

Dad had been killed in a ski-lift accident when I was nineteen, and it had been rough on Mom and myself, as we’d both adored him. “He was the only guy I ever loved that way,” she sighs, pausing for a sip of wine. After that all her relationships were with women, and out of respect for Dad’s memory she continued to keep her lesbian life private.

As it turns out, all the women in Mom’s tennis club are either gay or bi, even the married ones. Their little group is just a very clandestine way for my mother and her friends to indulge their sapphic cravings in our conservative community. That, by the way, was how Mom had learned of my own taste for females: a couple of years earlier, I’d had a brief fling with a young temp I met at the office, this fiery little punk girl who rocked my universe for two tempestuous weeks. That girl just happened to be the daughter of one of Mom’s tennis club fuck-buddies. Small world.

Then it’s my turn to speak. I tell Mom and Cinnamon of how I’d explored lesbian sex with more than a few girls during my years as a business major; even revealing a few of the kinkier things I’d done, like the day I went without panties and flashed my Women’s Studies professor during class. She got so flustered that she dropped a stack of graded essays that she was handing back to the other girls. But she paid me back with interest for my impertinence later, handcuffing me to the radiator in her office and giving me the fucking of my life with an eight-inch vibrator.

Finally, Mom and I listen raptly while my little girl describes what it was like to learn kissing with her friend Susie; how they had undressed, then bashfully touched one another’s nude bodies. Now her mind is buzzing with ideas about what she can teach her friend the next time they get together.

All this talk of matters sexual has revived our slumbering desires, and so we three come together once more to make love. This time we take things slowly, the reckless excitement of our first encounter replaced by a languid warmth that moves me to the verge of joyful tears. I can tell that my mother and daughter are just as overwhelmed as I from this big, beautiful thing we have found. We all somehow climax together, sharing a mutual orgasm that felt like a benediction from on high.

Mom insists that Cinnamon and I stay the night — as if we’d had any intention of leaving! — so, happy but weary, we slip beneath the love-warmed sheets, exchanging hugs and some extremely passionate kisses before turning out the lights.

I fall asleep quickly, snuggled closely to my new lovers.

*****

Five years have passed since that amazing afternoon… and incredibly enough, the three of us are still sexually intimate. We are free to make love with whoever we please, of course; but my mother, my daughter and I always seem to gravitate back to one another.

Mom has introduced me to the ladies of her tennis club, and I’ve become an enthusiastic participant in their fun and games. In fact, my mother has shared me with her friends more than a few times. Just last month, we had a little party where I served the club members while dressed in nothing but a bow tie and a thong, and Mom offered me up to the ladies as their submissive sex toy for the entire evening. All five women, my mother included, had their wicked way with me; and I came more times than I could count.

Yes, Mom has unearthed and nurtured that side of me that loves to be dominated. Now she is my mistress just as much as a parent. Several months after our first time together, Cinnamon and I moved out of the poky apartment where we lived and into Mom’s house, where I can truly belong to the strong, beautiful woman who gave birth to me.

Actually, I have another mistress as well: my daughter Cinnamon, who is now an exquisite teenager of fifteen. She has developed a serious taste for dominant sex herself — I guess the gene skipped a generation — and she and I often get up to some very twisted antics together.

Last night, after she finished her homework, Cinnamon called me up to her room and ordered me to strip, then climb onto her bed and lie face down. She tied my wrists and ankles to the oaken bedposts, then teased me with her fingers, lips and tongue until I wanted to scream. I couldn’t, though — my daughter had not given permission to talk. Finally, Cinnamon took pity on me and put on this lovely strap-on cock I’d purchased for her at our town’s only adult sex store, paused to dab a bit of Vaseline on my anus and fucked my ass until I fainted from sheer, unbridled ecstasy.

When I came to, she unfastened my bonds and held me tenderly in her arms, where we whispered vows of devotion and shared the sweetest of kisses. You see, although I’m often used as a personal plaything by Cinnamon, she truly adores me… and the rough, demanding pleasure she gives her mommy is the most wonderful way I know of for my child to show her love.

Most people would be horrified by the secret life I lead with my mother and daughter. They hear the word incest and refuse to let themselves see the wondrous possibilities of a life like mine. The loss is theirs. Honestly, I consider myself blessed.

An Afternoon’s Delight, Part One

  • Posted on September 12, 2015 at 10:00 am

By JetBoy

It’s a hot August day, and I’m sitting on the patio outside my mother Carol’s house, whiling away the afternoon while Mom is off playing tennis with her friends. My ten-year-old daughter Cinnamon is nearby, splashing playfully in the swimming pool as I lounge in a striped deckchair, sunbathing in a skimpy bikini.

The summer sun warms my oiled body, giving me a sweet tingling between the legs. Almost without thinking, I press my thumb against the thin material covering my pussy. A prickle of pleasure wafts through me, and I begin to fondle myself more intently, fingers snaking between my thighs to brush a now throbbing clitoris.

Suddenly I realize that my little girl is standing right next to me, clearly curious as to what I’m up to. I glance down to see the crotch of my bikini bottoms pushed to one side, revealing my shaved slit.

“What’re you doing, Mommy?” Cinnamon asks, her head tilted to one side.

I raise my head, studying my daughter. She is an adorable, gazelle- like creature, still wet from the pool in her two-piece bathing outfit. Her sapphire-blue eyes are wide as she watches me, and I quickly adjust my suit. For a fleeting instant, I catch a glimpse of what looks like… disappointment on Cinnamon’s face. Is she really that interested in seeing my pussy?

Despite my display of modesty, the arousal I’m feeling is now even stronger. I don’t know why, but I’m kind of turned on at the thought of my little girl watching me pleasure myself. I’m bisexual, with a strong preference for women and a secret craving for young girls, but I’ve never been sexually aroused by Cinnamon before. Well, almost never.

I gently tell her, “Mommy is just making herself feel good, baby.”

She ponders this for a moment, nibbling at her lower lip, then says, “I do that, too. Susie showed me how.”

Susie? Stunned, I slowly sit up in the chair, mind racing. Susie was Cinnamon’s best friend, and they were close, but I had no idea that they had been exploring their bodies together.

“What… what kinds of things did she show you?” I keep my voice casual, not wanting to startle Cinnamon with my eagerness to know more.

An apprehensive look flutters across her face, as if she suddenly realizes that she’s said too much. Placing a hand on her arm, I give it a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right, honeybunch… there’s nothing wrong with you and Susie playing that way. In fact, that’s one of the nicest things that girls can do together.” I smile warmly. “So… what else happened?”

Shy but willing, my daughter continues. “Well… she, um, taught me how to kiss… for when we get boyfriends, you know? With tongues and everything.” She grins, her cheeks turning a lovely pink. “It felt weird, at first… but I liked it!”

My heart is pounding, though I manage to keep my cool. “That sounds nice, honey. My best friend was the one who showed me how to kiss, too.” Actually, we went much further than kissing, but Cinnamon didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Really? Did she… touch you, too?” coos Cinnamon. “Me and Susie did that.”

Oh, my God, this is incredible. I’m dying to hear everything, but don’t want to seem too excited. “Did you undress first?” I ask.

Cinnamon nods, her eyes wide. “How’d you know that, Mommy?”

I grin. “Oh, that’s what girls do, when they get together to play… private games.” I touch Cinnamon’s bare shoulder. “Go on, tell me more about what you little imps got up to!”

She sways to and fro, her hands clasped before her, now happy to share her secret. “We just snuggled with our clothes off, and we kissed a lot. Then we took turns” — her voice dropped to a whisper — “touching each other’s kitty!” She giggles, pleased with her boldness. “I… I really liked doing that, Mommy.”

By now, I’m so fucking hot from picturing my little girl playing lesbian games with her cute little friend that I have to get myself off — I have to! And since Cinnamon is no stranger to this kind of activity, I see no reason why she can’t see Mommy make herself feel good.

“Honey,” I begin, “I’m feeling all warm down in my own kitty, just from hearing about you and Susie… and, um, I sort of need to touch myself some more.” I swallow, then add, “You can watch, if you’d like.”

Cinnamon’s eyes are absolutely huge. She slowly nods. “Okay…”

She perches at the bottom of my deck recliner, utterly fascinated as she watches me slip a hand inside my bikini bottoms and begin to masturbate. Her eyes are riveted to my fingers as they move beneath the thin material.

God, I don’t know why, but this is getting me hotter by the minute. I am so wet and turned on with my little girl observing me that I stop to tug my bikini bottoms off, then drop them to one side. Then I figure why not, and take my top off too. Now naked, I part my thighs and slide a finger deep into my honeypot.

I’m a little worried about the possibility of freaking Cinnamon out, but a glance confirms that my daughter is totally into this, watching eagerly as I pleasure myself. In fact, her hand steals up to her chest, absently touching her budding breasts through the bikini top she wears. I nearly moan out loud when Cinnamon brushes her nipples with the tips of her fingers, and I could swear that I see them stiffen before my eyes. I suddenly imagine myself sucking them, feeling my baby’s nipples swell in my mouth.

God in heaven, I’m seeing my own child as a sexual creature — and, for the first time, as an object of forbidden desire.

I can’t believe what I’m thinking, even as the idea is flitting about in my head like a trapped bird, but there it is, waiting for me to make it real. I know how utterly wrong this craving is, honestly I do. But I also find myself imagining how wonderful it would be for my little girl to discover love with her mother. We adore each other already… why couldn’t she and I take our relationship one step further? Somehow, at this instant, it all makes perfect sense.

Heart pounding, knowing that I’m crossing a dangerous line, I whisper, “Honey… do you want to help Mommy feel good?”

Her face lights up, and she excitedly says “Sure!”

I motion her closer, taking her hand, then bring it to my lips to kiss her palm, whispering, “I love you, baby.” My gaze never leaving hers, I draw that hand between my thighs, placing it on my mons. “See, now… this is where you came from, just ten years ago.”

My daughter’s lips are parted, a look of wonder on her face. “You feel warm, Mommy!” Her fingers are tentatively exploring my sex, and it feels so good that I’m seeing stars.

Biting my lip, I manage to say, “That’s because I’m all excited, sweetheart… and when you touch me this way you excite me, you know — very much.”

“Wow,” she breathes, her hand still lightly fondling my vulva.

“Here, honey,” I murmur, “let me show you something else you can do.” I carefully position two of Cinnamon’s fingers at the entrance to my vagina, then slowly ease them inside.

“Mommy,” my child breathes, practically shivering with excitement.

Cinnamon’s fingers are buried in me, deep as they can go… and I grip her hand tightly for a moment, marveling at how lovely they feel. Then I release her, settling back into the deck chair. “Good… very good. N-now move your fingers in and out, baby.”

Cinnamon begins slowly at first, but soon her wrist is moving steadily, fingers pumping in and out of my cunt. It feels so fucking good — but I can take more.

I place a shaking hand on my daughter’s arm to stop her, taking a deep breath to steady myself before I speak. “Cinnamon, honey… you know, your whole hand c-can fit into Mommy’s pussy, if you push it inside slowly.” Cupping her face, I whisper, “Will you do that for me? ”

She nods eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement.

I lie back and spread myself open for her. Cinnamon presses into me, her brow furrowed as she concentrates. A moan escapes me as her knuckles slide past the vaginal ring, and then, suddenly, she is inside. Oh, my goodness.

I close my eyes and push back against her hand, gradually taking her up to the wrist. My body is vibrating with tiny tremors, as if an earthquake was massing in my center. She is bent over me, absorbed in her work; and I can feel her breath caress my clit.

In a shaky voice I tell her to make a fist, gasping in disbelief as she does. Then I breathe, “Okay, honey… now, move your hand forward and back, just like you were doing with your fingers. Start slowly, though.”

She begins, and I moan ecstatically at the unimaginable fullness I feel, a deep-banked mixture of pain and pleasure that is too intense for words. My baby’s hands are dainty and very elegant, but all I know at that moment is that her little fist is bigger than any cock I’ve ever had inside me.

With trembling lips I stammer, “Okay, Cinnamon… you can g-go faster now.”

Her pace gradually accelerates, and I want to scream at how utterly divine it is. My body is alive like never before as I buck against my little girl’s probing hand. No lover has ever fisted me before, and it feels incredible.

“That’s it, b-baby, twist your hand… and… and… oh yes! YES! Oh Cinnamon that’s so good!” I gasp.

“I love how you smell, Mommy!” my little girl pants, her face inches from my cunt as she works her hand around inside.

Then the craziest impulse hits me, and I find myself wondering just how far I can get my daughter to go.

“Cinnamon, h-honey,” I stammer, unable to believe what I’m on the verge of asking, “Would you like to – ooh, that’s so nice — do you want to make Mommy feel even b-better than this?”

Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. “Yes, Mommy,” she coos, her hand still buried deep inside me. “What do I do?”

I place a finger against my clitoris. “Lick me, honey, right here. If you like the way it smells, you’ll love how I taste.” I bring a wet finger to my lips and suck at it. “Mmmm… it’s yummy.”

My daughter, wide-eyed with curiosity, moves closer to my sex. She gives my clit a timid swipe with her tongue, and I moan out loud. “Oh, yes, baby… oh, yes.”

Clearly liking the taste, Cinnamon begins to lick me with growing enthusiasm. She’s so focused on this new task that her thrusts have ceased, but that hardly matters — every tiny movement of my baby’s hand has my head reeling, and the sensation of her warm tongue teasing my clitoris is positively electric. I’m shivering from head to toe, breathing in frantic gasps.

I place a shaking hand on my daughter’s head. “That’s it, honey! Now… nibble at it a little bit! Oh yes, honey! You’re Mommy’s sweet little girl…” I lean back in my chair, head spinning, edging toward an unimaginable orgasm. Cinnamon has progressed from licking my clit to sucking at the inflamed tip, and her hand is beginning to churn about inside me again.

“Oh, my God,” I suddenly hear from a few feet away.

I sit upright, my daughter’s hand still stuffed deep in my vagina — and go rigid with horror.

My mother Carol towers above us in a white tennis outfit, an indecipherable look on her face. Jesus… she wasn’t supposed to be home for two more hours!

Mom has caught me having sex with my little girl. My life is over.

I quickly look away, my pulse galloping as Cinnamon removes her hand from me with a slurping sound. There’s a roaring in my ears, a cold slab of ice in my belly.

I wait for my mother to explode in rage, but the storm fails to materialize. Somehow I force my gaze up to meet hers, and get another shock when I see… she’s smiling!?

Mom turns to my daughter, who’s sitting frozen, hands clutched in her lap, on the verge of frightened tears.

“Cinnamon,” Carol gently asks, “are you and your mommy having fun?”

“Uh-huh,” comes Cinnamon’s timid reply, my child barely able to meet her grandmother’s gaze.

Mom squats down next to my daughter, placing a hand on her arm. “May I have some fun with you and Mommy, too?”

“Um… sure!” Cinnamon responds, tilting her face up in surprise.

My jaw drops as Mom turns to me, eyes aglow. Reaching out, she draws me to her with a tug, claiming my mouth with hers. She kisses me passionately, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. Stunned as I am, I can’t help but respond… and so I return Mom’s kiss without hesitation, my tongue flashing to life to join hers.

Mom pulls back slightly, her nose barely touching mine. “I’m into women too, baby,” she murmurs, “and I’ve wanted you ever since I found out you were bi.”

Our mouths meet again, and I melt into the kiss… letting my mother know without a word that I am hers.

Then Mom turns to Cinnamon, who is staring at us with enormous eyes as me and my mother make out like lovers.

“Would you like to kiss me too, honey…?” Mom coos.

Bashfully, biting her lower lip, my baby nods.

Mom draws my little girl into her arms. I open my mouth to protest, then stop. How can I refuse my mother the right to kiss her granddaughter, when the child was licking my clitoris not two minutes ago?

Carol tilts her head slightly to kiss Cinnamon, her lips brushing my daughter’s mouth. Where Mom was rough with me, the kisses she gives my little girl are warm and sensuous.

Needless to say, Cinnamon quickly gets over any shyness she might be feeling. I shiver at the sight of my mother and daughter locked in a passionate embrace, their mouths sliding together, tongues dueling. I see Mom’s hand gliding down my child’s back to cup her pert little bottom.

Finally my mother plants one last kiss on her granddaughter’s mouth, then rises to her feet. Smiling down at Cinnamon, she softly says, “We’ll play some more in a minute, honey, but your grandmother needs some attention now.”

She turns to me. With a single violent motion, Mom rips the tennis skirt from her hips and tosses it to one side, leaving her in a white top and skimpy black panties.

I look up into her hungry eyes as my 45-year-old mother says “Make love to me, Angela.”

The firmness in her voice makes it clear that Mom will brook no disobedience. I haven’t heard that tone from her since I was in high school, running wild with the stoner kids and slackers.

My mother stands before me — strong, beautiful, magnificent. How can I possibly refuse her?

Instinctively, I reach around Carol to fondle her shapely ass with both hands, pressing my face into the rise of her mound. I slowly tug her panties down to her ankles, exposing a generous thatch of pubic hair and a thick scent of wet pussy that makes my mouth water.

I lean in close, knowing that this is where I came from — my mother’s vagina. And now I will thank her for the gift of life, by going down on this juicy cunt and eating Mom until she comes in my face.

Gently at first, I kiss and lick her slit. Then I’m parting her labia with trembling fingers, moaning into that luscious pubic forest as I eat my mother’s pussy in an unrestrained frenzy of lesbian lust.

Mom is riding my face fiercely, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Oh, God yes, lick me,” she moans, in front of my own baby girl — which only turns me on all the more.

I allow my hand to glide over her bare ass, fingers gently probing between her cheeks to stroke the anal pucker. Then I press the tip into Mom’s rectum, slipping my finger inside her right up to the third knuckle.

Mom reaches down to clumsily paw my breast, her fingers seeking and finding my nipple; giving it a pinch. Seeing stars, I moan into her cunt, then trail my tongue up through the dripping slice until I reach her clit. I flick playfully at the crimson nubbin once or twice before sucking it between my lips.

My mother cries out loud, her climax kicking in hard and fierce. I can feel her fingers tangling in my hair, the shuddering of her womanly frame when I suck the tip of her clitoris. Finally, she pushes my face away, then slowly sinks into a patio chair.

As soon as she catches her breath, Mom gazes at my daughter, a wicked smile crossing her face as she purrs, “Come here, Cinnamon,” accompanied by a crook of her finger.

My daughter dutifully pads over to stand expectantly beside my half-naked mother. Sitting up in her seat, Mom reaches around Cinnamon’s back to unfasten her top, letting it drop into the grass.

As I watch, every atom of me aching with lust, Mom tugs my baby’s bikini bottoms down to her feet, and Cinnamon daintily steps from them. My mother rises to help her granddaughter onto the nearby table, placing her on the edge to face me.

A tiny moan of stunned excitement escapes my lips. I’m seeing my little girl completely naked for the first time in years, and she is so lovely that I want to gobble her up.

As if reading my mind, Cinnamon grins excitedly as she spreads her legs, exposing her smooth sex. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss that juicy pink slit.

Mom moves over to me, unbuttoning and removing the tennis top she wears, then unfastening the bra to reveal her generous breasts. She bends to me and whispers, her warm breath caressing my ear, “Go on, Angela… taste her.”

I rise to my feet and move to where my Cinnamon lies, propped on both elbows and watching me with expectant eyes. Does she fully understand what is happening here? I’m not sure, but this much I do know: my daughter is now going to experience the delights of lesbian love. I will deny her nothing.

Standing above my awed little girl, I bend to kiss her left knee, then the other. She watches, a dreamy smile on her lips. I begin to nuzzle her thighs, slowly working my way between them. Her smile only widens. Encouraged, I trail kisses over the smooth flesh until my mouth is centimeters away from my daughter’s pussy. I stare, enthralled by the soft pink cleft, moist with the dew of a young girl’s arousal. So perfect, so innocent and untouched…

Closing my eyes, I move in to take that first lick, the tip of my tongue grazing Cinnamon’s slit. She whimpers, a delicious shiver coursing through her babyish body, and I lick her again.

She is delicious. Thirsting for more, I press my tongue into the moist flesh, reveling in the scent and taste of my daughter. Slipping my hands beneath her, I cup her soft little bottom, my lips parting to cover her sex with my mouth in the most intimate of kisses. My lovely child is quivering beneath me, mewling with pleasure.

Intoxicated by the newfound delights of lovemaking with Cinnamon, I’ve all but forgotten my mother. So I’m surprised for an instant when I feel her naked body against mine, her pelvis grinding into my ass as if she were fucking me from behind. I think longingly of the strap-on cock I keep under the bed back at home, wishing I had it now so that Mom could possess me completely. Next time, I promise myself.

Instead, I feel my mother’s hand slide around my body to roughly grope at my breasts, pausing to roll each nipple between the fingers, then she shoves her hand down to delve between my thighs. I part them, giving her full access, moaning long and low into my baby’s bare vulva when Mom plunges three fingers inside me.

Raising my head from Cinnamon’s mound for an instant, I look back to see my mother’s face, now transformed by lust. She’s a dominating she-beast, taking me, making me her slut. I stiffen with excitement at the thought, and am met with harder, deeper thrusts as her fingers curve into my vagina.

It seems so perfect, so obvious. I’ve always had serious submissive tendencies, and the idea of being sexually controlled by my beautiful mother makes my head reel. Mom is such a strong, confident woman, and I’d always relied on her advice, her guidance — why had I never thought of giving myself over to her this way?

And then there was my precious Cinnamon, now spread out before me, squirming on the table as I went down on her. How could I have fantasized about young girls for so long while overlooking the flawless gem of my own daughter? I might have raised her to be my lover from the beginning, I think, the tip of my tongue tracing her vulva like a paintbrush.

An image suddenly enters my mind of bringing a five-year-old Cinnamon into my bed, teaching my tousle-headed moppet the wonders of lesbian love. Or of pleasuring her as an infant; licking the delicate crease of her slit as she gurgles happily, little fists waving as Mommy’s fingers brush her tiny nipples.

Jesus, what a perverted bitch I am, I think. Back in the here and now, I slip my tongue into my preteen daughter’s virgin cunt; thrilled at the realization that, whatever her age, I was going to be my baby girl’s very first fuck.

The idea of performing oral sex on a ten-year-old girl is freaky enough, but when it’s the child’s adoring mother doing the licking… well, let’s say that it’s wilder and more twisted than I ever imagined I could be.

As if she can read my mind, Mom is hissing into my ear, “You’re a dirty, dirty slut, eating your daughter’s pussy like this,” as she continues to drive her fingers deep into me, rubbing her breasts against my back. “Now do her ass.”

My baby girl is wiggling and whimpering in ecstasy as I lick her juicy slit. Then when I lift her hips, then trail my tongue down to probe between her pert buttocks, she squeals in a mixture of surprise and delight, parting her legs even further to offer me full access to her rosebud.

Words can’t capture the adoration I feel for my precious child as she gives herself to me so sweetly, sighing “Oh, Mommy… oh, Mommy,” over and over as she experiences oral sex for the first time. But not the last, I tell myself. I’ll definitely be doing this again.

Wondering if I can make Cinnamon come, I draw back, using my fingers to expose her tiny clitoris… and take it between my lips to suckle, sending a ripple of pleasure coursing through her thin frame. Then I place my index finger against her opening and slowly, gently push the tip inside her. My child’s body stiffens for an instant… and then, wonder of wonders, she begins to push back against my loving intrusion, encouraging me to go deeper. I gasp in awe as my exploring digit slips into her body, entering her right up to the third knuckle.

Cinnamon has done gymnastics for years, so her hymen is gone. As long as it doesn’t cause my baby any pain, there’s no reason why I can’t fuck her, is there? Emboldened, I carefully roll my finger about inside her vagina, the tip making tiny circles. I begin, very slowly at first, to work it in and out.

“Ooooooh, Mommy… f-feels good!” Cinnamon stammers as she grinds lewdly against my finger, churning her hips in time to my steady strokes. Eager to give my daughter her first orgasm, I bend down to continue licking at her clitoris.

As for Mom, she continues to probe my cunt, her generous pubic tuft rubbing against my ass. She’s nuzzling my back and shoulders, then suddenly gives me a sharp bite on the neck that I’m sure is going to leave a visible mark. How am I going to explain that at the office? I think.

I imagine myself at the water cooler, running into that obnoxious dork Bob from Accounts Receivable, who smirks as he points at my neck, sniggering, Where’d you get THAT beauty? – then, the stunned look on his face as I casually reply, Oh, my mother gave me that in bed last night… she’s one insatiable lover.

My baby girl’s moans are steadily rising as I pleasure her with fingers and mouth. Suddenly, with an incredulous cry of “Oh yes, Mommy! OH!” she is coming, in quick shocks that jolt her thin body. I continue to lick and suck at Cinnamon’s vagina, guiding her through what I imagine must be her first ever climax, which rises to a quick peak. She goes limp, her head hitting the table with a barely audible thud.

I lift my face from between my daughter’s legs — and, clutching my shoulder, Mom roughly pulls me back into her until I’m standing upright. Our sweaty bodies are pressed together, and three of her fingers are buried up to the hilt in my throbbing cunt. She allows her hand to slide down my neck and around me to grope my tits. She nibbles my ear, then whispers, “I love you, Angela.”

“I love you too, Mom!” I gasp, clutching her hand to my breasts. Twisting my head around, I seek out her mouth and kiss her as passionately as I’m able to at this awkward angle, wanting to love my mother face to face, but needing her fingers to stay inside me. Our tongues flicker together like twinned flames as we share the taste of my daughter, then I break away, turning back to face Cinnamon, getting a firm grip on the table.

“Take me, Mom,” I plead, my head bowed. “Fuck me, hard as you can. Please… make me come!”

And she begins to work my cunt with an renewed aggression that has me panting, her fingers pumping in and out of my creamy hole like a slippery, relentless piston.

Still seated on the poolside table, Cinnamon watches avidly as my mother fucks me — hard, deep and rough, the way I like it best. Then I see Mom’s free hand beckoning her closer. My naked daughter clambers onto her knees and moves nearer to our hot incest action. It’s plain to see that she is eager to participate.

“Kiss your mommy, Cinnamon,” my mother pants.

My daughter’s gaze flickers to meet mine, a question in her eyes — and my answer is yes.

Cinnamon smiles happily as she leans into me and we kiss, her mouth angel-soft against mine. Surprising me, my child brings her tongue into play first, delicately licking at my lips. A delicious shudder runs through my body as I realize that my daughter is tasting her own juices on my mouth and chin. I curl an arm around Cinnamon’s waist as my lips part for her, returning her kiss as my heart throbs with love for this flawless child, born from my body.

Mom continues to fuck me, though more slowly now while I kiss my sweet baby girl. Each thrust of her fingers is a small explosion of pleasure, and I sense my climax approaching through the thick haze that seems to envelop me. It begins in my belly, a smoldering heat that quickly fans into flame, then mounts into a roaring holocaust.

Then my mother leans forward to whisper something in Cinnamon’s ear that I can’t make out. Suddenly my daughter breaks our kiss, bending down to take my right nipple into her warm mouth. Mom’s other arm has slipped around my waist, without me really noticing, but it certainly registers when her fingers seek out and find my inflamed clitoris.

My knees nearly buckle as I burst into a convulsive orgasm. Mindless of who might hear me, I cry out, “Oh, yes, Mom, yes! Fuck me! Cinnamon, baby, ooooh God I love you! I love you b-both! Ohhhhhh!”

Mom’s hands wriggle and work between my quivering legs, Cinnamon is rubbing her face against my breasts, kissing wildly at the soft flesh… and ecstasy soars as my incestuous lovers take me higher and higher. A strangled scream is ripped from my throat when the sensations reach an unimaginable peak that seems to occupy a small universe. Then everything breaks into tiny pieces, myself included.

Continue on to Part Two