Telling My Story, Chapter 2

  • Posted on December 18, 2015 at 4:08 pm

By Naughty Mommy

Sitting close together on our family room sofa, my three young daughters listened intently as I told them the story about my mother and me.

“Not very long after that, one afternoon I was in her room after school, lying on my mother’s bed, touching myself. She wasn’t home yet, of course, and I wasn’t expecting her for at least another hour.

“I remember it so well. It was late February, still winter, and it was snowing outside. It had started around noon and by the time I got home from school, there were several inches of snow on the ground. But inside our house it was nice and warm, and I had all those wonderful magazines to look at, so I was quite content.

“On this particular day, I was especially aroused by one girl and her pictures. She was in a couple of the magazines, one of them by herself, masturbating, and a second where she was with another young girl, and they were kissing and making love.

“This girl that I was so excited about was a brunette, small and cute, with thin legs, almost no breasts, big brown eyes, and a beautiful smile. Her partner in the lesbian photos was a blonde, like me. She had blue eyes, like I do, and she was a little taller than the other girl, but she still looked very young, maybe only fifteen or sixteen.

“In most of the shots with the two girls together, it looked like the blonde was sort of taking charge. She was usually on top of the cute little brunette, either kissing her, or sucking on her nipples, or sitting on her face…”

My daughters all three sighed and stirred, almost in chorus, obviously excited by the descriptions I was giving.

“And so I was spending that afternoon imagining that it was me in the magazine with the adorable brunette. That I was kissing her, and touching her, and laying on top of her, that our two naked bodies were sliding together…

“And as I was fantasizing about making love to this girl, I decided to put the two magazines down on the floor, next to the bed, open to the pages I liked best, and then I took off all my clothes. I already had my panties off, and my shoes, of course, and my shirt was open — I wasn’t wearing a bra, because I hardly needed one yet — ”

“What grade were you in?” asked Andrea.

“I was in fifth grade.”

She nodded and smiled.

“So I took off my my shirt and my little pleated skirt, and then I was naked, except for my socks. And I laid on the bed, on my stomach, looking down at the exciting magazines on the floor. I pretended I was laying on top of the little brunette, the way the blonde was in the pictures, and I pretended I was kissing her pretty mouth, and as I put my hands down between my legs and started rubbing myself, I pretended it was her fingers that I was feeling there.

“I looked at the pictures and rubbed my pussy and looked at her mouth and imagined I was kissing her and she was touching me and I was getting very excited and then—

“Suddenly I heard a voice behind me. It said, ‘Cathy… what… what are…?!’ And it was my mother!

“I was startled and embarrassed and terribly afraid I would be in big trouble. I realized that when she came through her open bedroom door, unexpected, what she would have seen was her eleven-year-old daughter naked on the bed, her legs spread apart and both hands rubbing her pussy. That’s the way I was laying, facing away from the door.

“I turned around quickly, grabbing my shirt and trying to cover myself, instantly bursting into tears. ‘Mommy, I’m sorry!’ I wailed.”

“You started crying?” asked Kristen.

“Yes, sweetie, I did,” I answered softly. I was aware that this part of the story always seemed to upset her, even though she had heard it many times. “I knew, of course, sugar, that my mommy had always been very, very kind to me, and that she had never hurt me. But then, I’d never been caught doing what I was doing, so I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“Your mother was nice about it, though,” said Andrea, reassuring her little sister.

“She sure was, honey. She came over to the bed and sat down and took me in her arms. I suppose she must have been startled at first — possibly even angry that I was in her bedroom, looking at her private magazines — but anyway, she came to me and held me close and told me to stop crying. She said that everything was all right, that she could never be mad at me because she loved me so very much. My mother stroked my bare back, and kissed the top of my head, and pulled me onto her lap. Soon she was kissing my cheeks and wiping away my tears, and she hugged me to her, squeezing me tight, and as I cuddled in close to her, I started to feel safe again. Warm and safe and happy.”

“I like that part,” murmured Bethany.

“Yes, it’s nice. She was so good to me.” I smiled to myself, inwardly glowing with the memories of my wonderful, caring mother. “We sat that way for a long time, me curled up on her lap, still naked, and her rocking me gently, rubbing my back, telling me how much she loved me, and sometimes giving me little kisses.

“Finally my mother said, ‘So I guess you found my little collection of magazines, huh?’ I just nodded my head and didn’t say anything. ‘Well, I’m glad you did,’ she continued. ‘Because now we have a chance to talk about it.’

“She held me some more and gently rocked me, until I said, ‘So you’re not mad at me?’ ‘No, of course not,’ she answered. ‘There’s nothing wrong at all with what you were doing. Oh, I suppose you were snooping a little bit, but every child does that. And being curious about sexual things is perfectly normal for a girl your age. I think I started to masturbate when I was, well, maybe a little older than you, but it’s a very healthy and normal thing for a girl to do.’

“I wrapped my arms around my mother and hugged her tightly. I was aware of being naked, but I felt safe and secure with her, just as I always had. Her body was warm and she smelled nice.

“After another minute of hugging, she put her hands on my bare shoulders and held me at arms’ length. ‘And look,’ she said, ‘I’m truly sorry that I surprised you that way. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you or anything. They let us out of work early today because of the snow. But you have a right to privacy, and you can masturbate whenever you want, within reason of course (I smiled when she said that), and you can feel free to look at my magazines as much as you want. You can even take some of them with you into your room.’

“She looked down at my breasts. I got kind of shy then and pulled up my hands to cover them. ‘Sweetie,’ she said, ‘I can see that you’re not a little girl any more. You’re turning into a woman. And it’s only natural that you’re going to have the feelings of a woman.’

“‘You know, Cathy,’ said my mother, as she stroked my blonde hair, ‘some women — a lot of women, in fact — like to look at pictures of other women. Pictures like those, I mean’ (she nodded toward the magazines on the floor) ‘because they find them sexually exciting. I do. And it looks like you do too.’

“I lowered my head because it embarrassed me. She put her finger under my chin, and lifted it up so I would look at her. ‘It’s okay, honey. I don’t mind. It’s normal. And any time you want to talk about anything — about what you’re feeling, or what you’ve seen in the pictures, whatever it is — you just come and ask me, and we’ll talk. Okay?’”

“I nodded and she gave me a quick kiss on the lips. ‘That’s my girl,’ she said. ‘Now, do you have some favorites that you’ve found?’ She leaned over and scooped up the two magazines that were open on the floor. ‘You like these?’

“I was getting shy again, and I’m sure I blushed, but I nodded and said, ‘Uh-huh.’ ‘Then you can have them,’ she said ‘Are there any others you want to take with you?’ I wasn’t sure what to say. I liked just about all of them. I finally answered, ‘Um, I don’t know.’

“‘That’s all right,’ she said, ‘we won’t worry about it now. But, like I told you, any time you want to talk about anything, no matter what it is, you just ask me. And feel free to take any of these magazines that you want to into your room. Let’s just say they belong to both of us now, and we can share them, okay?’

“‘Okay,’ I smiled at her. ‘But there’s just one thing,’ she added. ‘It’s not a very good idea for you to tell anyone else about this. I mean, that I’m letting you look at these kinds of magazines. I think it’s perfectly fine, that it’s good for your education, but some people might not feel the same way, so it’s best if we just decide that it’s nobody’s business but ours. Okay?’ I nodded my agreement.

“Now,’ she continued, ‘why don’t you go put some clothes on and then we can order a pizza, any kind you like, and we can eat it in the living room while we watch TV. How does that sound?’ ‘Great!’ I replied. My mother wasn’t strict or anything, but she preferred doing some things in a certain way, like cooking our own dinner, and eating at the table, and talking instead of watching television. But once in a while, for a treat, she would change the rules and make it a special night for us.

“Oh, and guess what,’ she said, ‘I brought home your favorite ice cream too, for dessert.’ ‘Mint chocolate chip?’ I asked. When she nodded yes, I threw my arms around her again, exclaiming, ‘I love you, Mommy, so much!’ ‘And I love you too, baby, very very much,’ she said, squeezing me tight. ‘Now go get dressed, and think about what kind of pizza you’d like.’ ‘Okay!’

“I grabbed my clothes and bounced off the bed, and then she called, ‘But wait, don’t forget these!’ and handed me the two magazines I’d been looking at while I was masturbating. I blushed again, but took them and went to my room.”

I looked at my three daughters. They had been quiet for a while, still listening, but not making any comments or asking questions. Kristen was nestled in on my left side, and Andrea was on my right. Bethany had shifted around to sit in the corner of the sofa, with her long slender legs laying across Andie’s lap.

“Do you want me to keep telling the story?”

“Yeah,” answered Bethany, “the next part is my favorite.”

“Mm-hm, me too,” agreed Andie.”

“But Mommy…” began Kristen.

“Yes, darling?”

“After the story’s done, will you, like, kiss me some more and stuff?”

My arm was already around her little shoulder, and I pulled her even closer to me. “Of course I will, baby girl! I’ll kiss you and lick you and touch you all over!”

Kristen squealed with delight, and I heard the other two add that they would eagerly join in on the fun. Glancing over, I saw that Andrea had slid her hand up very high on Bethany’s bare leg, and she was gently caressing the inside of her sister’s thigh, near her crotch, just below the hem of Bethany’s short-shorts.

“So, you like the next part, Bethany?” I asked quietly.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, her eyes heavy-lidded with growing lust. I saw her hand slip under her t-shirt again, so she could fondle her erect nipples.

“Okay, then I’ll go on.”

But it wasn’t easy for me to stay focused and continue. In some ways, my daughters each have more sexual self-discipline than I do. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than to give in to my raging desires for them. It was only due to their insistence that I went on telling the story.

“That night after we’d finished enjoying our pizza and our ice cream and watched TV together for a couple of hours, my mother said it was time for bed. I went to my room as usual, changed into my jammies, brushed my teeth, and climbed into bed. I was trying to decide whether I wanted to read a couple of chapters in the new mystery novel I’d begun the night before, or if I just wanted to turn out the light and start playing with myself in the dark, or maybe if I wanted to open up the magazines my mother had given me and look at them in bed while I touched myself, which would be a new thing. I was leaning toward that third option when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.

“My mother put her head inside and asked, ‘Asleep yet?’ I answered, ‘No, um, but pretty soon.’ I was really glad I had not yet taken out the pornographic magazines, which were in the top drawer of the little table next to my bed, because even though my mom had given me permission to use them and to masturbate, it still would have been pretty embarrassing to have my mother find me like that again on the very same day!

“She came into the room and sat down on my bed. She was wearing a short silk robe that tied at the waist. When she sat, the robe fell open at the top and I could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She’d apparently just taken a bath, because she smelled clean and fresh and her smooth legs had a healthy shine from having lotion applied to them.

“‘I wanted to talk to you for a minute,’ she said, ‘just to tell you again that I’m sorry I surprised you and upset you earlier today. I owe you an apology for that.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘Mommy, if I hadn’t been sneaking into your room in the first place, you wouldn’t of caught me there, so it’s my fault.’ She smiled and patted my leg. ‘Anyway, now it’s all out in the open for both of us. You know about the sort of things I like to look at, and I know that you know about it. And now I’ve learned that you’re old enough to be interested in some of the same kinds of things I am, so…’ I looked down then, blushing. ‘Sweetie, what is it?’ my mother asked.

“‘I don’t know,’ I began, ‘it’s just, you know, sort of weird to be talking with my mom about this stuff. I mean, it’s not that I don’t like talking with you about all kinds of things, and you’re always so cool about, well, everything. It’s just, you know, weird.’

“She patted my leg again. I liked the way her hand felt nice and warm on my thigh, even through the covers. ‘I know, honey, it must seem kind of strange. But I think we’ll get used to it. I’d like to, um, to be able to share with each other how we feel about certain things. Like about, well, maybe about what sort of… pictures and ideas excite each of us. You know, just to be able to talk about these things, woman to woman — or woman to girl — without being too embarrassed about it.’

“That made me smile. ‘Really?’ I asked. ‘I mean, I can really talk with you about any of that stuff? Like, I mean, you know, the girls in the magazines, and what they’re, um, what they’re doing with each other and everything?’

“‘Yes, honey, really, I mean it,’ she insisted. ‘I want to be able to talk with you about all of that. It’s like… well, you’re my daughter, of course, but in a lot of ways you’re also my closest friend. I mean, who else do I see more often than you? Who knows me better than you do? I want us to be… to be very, very close. Okay?’ I nodded, and she leaned over and kissed me gently on the lips.

“‘All right, so you go to bed now, and I’ll see you in the morning.’ She started to leave, but I sat up straight, taking her by the wrist, and said, ‘Mommy, I — can I ask you something?’ She sat back down again. ‘Of course, honey, anything.’ ‘Well, I,’ I started, ‘I was wondering, if, I mean, well, you know…..’”

“She chuckled, ‘No, honey, I don’t know. What is it? Just say it.’ I’d surprised myself by stopping her and beginning to ask something I hadn’t even realized I was planning to ask. ‘Okay, well,’ I tried again, ‘um, when you, like, masturbate?’ ‘Yes?’ she prompted. ‘Do you,’ I went on, ‘do you ever look at those magazines while you’re doing it?’ She nodded. ‘Of course I do. That’s why I have them. Not every time, though. Sometimes I’ll just close my eyes in the dark and think about a particular fantasy while I’m, uh, stimulating myself.’

“I went on, ‘But, what I mean is, those magazines are all about girls, or women, and without any men in them. You know?’ She nodded again, waiting for me, so I said, ‘Are, well, um, does that mean that — that you, and um, I guess, that I, that we’re, you know, like, lesbians?’

“My mother looked down for a moment, apparently trying to decide how to answer. Then, as she looked up again, she leaned in toward me, very close, and I slid down onto my back. She was kind of half laying on top of me, and she put an arm around my shoulders. Her face was very close to mine. ‘Honey, it’s not really that simple. Some women and girls, the ones that I suppose most people would call lesbians, have no interest at all in thinking about men, or fantasizing about them, or dating them, or falling in love with them, or having sex with them. They are only interested in other women, or girls.

“‘But there are a lot of other women, more, I’m sure, who might still think of themselves as heterosexual — that is, they’re married or have a boyfriend or they always date men, and so on — but still they get excited by fantasizing about other girls, by looking at them, or looking at pictures of them, or by imagining when they masturbate that they’re having sex with them, even though maybe they would never do that in real life. Almost all women, in my experience, are at least a little bit interested in other women. It’s really common, I think. Just about all of us probably are bisexual in that way, meaning they can get excited by the idea of being with another woman, or just seeing another woman naked, or seeing pictures of her masturbating, like in our magazines.’

“She stopped then, and after a moment, I asked, ‘But, um, so what are you?’ My mother gave a soft laugh, kissed me quickly on the mouth, and then gently rubbed the tip of her finger over my lips as she answered. ‘Well, as you know, sweetie, I never go out with men. I rarely go out with anyone, in fact. But, the truth is that I have, once in a while, had a few dates with women, although I’ve never really had a relationship with any of them, just, well, sex occasionally. And when I masturbate, which is pretty often, by the way, all my fantasies are about women or girls. Never men. So, I think, by that definition, you’d have to call me a lesbian.’

“‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Does that bother you,’ she asked, ‘knowing that your mother is a lesbian?’ ‘No,’ I answered honestly, ‘it doesn’t. But, um, if you’re a lesbian, does that make me a lesbian too?’ She chuckled one more time, and kissed me again. I liked how she was kissing me so much. ‘It’s probably too early to know about you yet, sweetheart. The fact that you’re interested in looking at those kinds of pictures, and masturbating while you look at them, that only means that you have a normal, healthy sex drive for a girl your age. It doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a lesbian. You might be, of course, but we’ll just have to wait a few more years to see if you start getting more of an interest in boys. And meanwhile, if you get excited by looking at the pictures in those magazines, and if you like thinking about the girls, or imagining, well, whatever you want to imagine about them, that’s perfectly fine. Just enjoy yourself and don’t worry too much about trying to figure it out. Have fun, and I promise you, everything will work itself out. Okay?’

“‘Okay.’ I smiled and started to pull my arms out from under the covers to give my mother a hug, but they kind of got tangled up in the sheets, and then in her robe, and I ended up accidentally putting my hand right on her breast when I tried to reach under her arm. ‘Oops!’ I giggled, and she said, ‘Oh, so I guess you are a lesbian!’ We had a good laugh about that. I managed to get my arms around her finally and we shared a hug, then she kissed me once more, twice more, on the lips, before saying goodnight and leaving the room.

“I lay there for a while, just thinking about our conversation, and about how nice it was to be so close to her, and how much I liked it when she kissed me. After a long time of lying there and thinking, I decided it was time to go to sleep, but I wanted to masturbate first. I got out both of the magazines and I looked at them for a few minutes, but then I turned out the light and closed my eyes and started trying to fantasize… and then I began to wonder if my mother was, perhaps, doing the exact same thing at the same time I was. Was she lying in her bed, thinking about sexy stuff? Was she looking at the pictures in one of those magazines, some of the very pictures I had looked at myself? Was she touching herself? Was she naked?

“I got so curious about all these things that I had to find out. She’d kept telling me again and again that I could ask her about anything, whatever I was curious about, so now I would. I put on my slippers and went to her bedroom door. I listened for a moment outside, but I couldn’t hear anything. Maybe she was already asleep. But I had to be sure. I knocked softly and then turned the knob, opening the door slightly.

“I looked inside her room, but it was dark and still. ‘Mommy?’ I asked. ‘Yes, honey?’ Her voice was strained, as if she was breathing hard. ‘Um, Mommy?’ ‘Yes, baby, what is it?’ ‘Well, I wanted to know if, if you were gonna masturbate tonight.’

“She didn’t answer right away. I listened for her voice, and I thought I could hear quiet movements. Then she said, ‘Yes, I am, sweetie. In fact, that’s what I’m doing right now.’ ‘Really??’ I was kind of surprised that she would admit it. ‘Right now??’ Again there was silence for a few moments, except for a gentle rustling, maybe a rhythmic movement of hand on skin. ‘Yes, honey, right now. That’s what I’m doing.’

“I felt my heart pounding. I had no idea that I would find all of this so exciting. Until that day I had never even known that my mother masturbated, although I suppose at some level I assumed that she did, but when I was right there in the room with her while she was doing it — it was thrilling! ‘Mommy?’ ‘Yes… what is it?’ ‘Um, can I, can I get in bed with you? And could we, like, do it together?’

“Then it really was quiet. Totally silent. Whatever rustling I thought I’d heard stopped completely. Finally my mother said, ‘Do it — together? You mean, masturbate together?’ ‘Yeah, can we? Is that okay? I mean, you said I should ask for anything, right?’ She laughed, a lot. ‘Yes, honey, that is what I said. But, are you really sure that’s what you want?’

“I took a step in the dark toward her bed. ‘Yeah, it is what I want. I think it would be really fun. And if, like, if I could watch you and you could tell me what you were doing, then, you know, I could learn some more. Like you said before, it would be an education for me.’ She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, ‘Watch? You mean, we should turn on the light so you can see what I’m doing?’ ‘Uh-huh. Is that okay? You’re not mad at me, are you?’

“‘No, no, honey, of course I’m not.’ The lamp by her bed came on. My mother was sitting up, with the sheet held in front of her chest, hiding her breasts. ‘I’m not mad at you, sweetie.’ She patted the bed next to her. ‘Come on up here and let’s talk about it.’ I left my slippers behind and climbed into her bed.

“After I got settled in, she asked, ‘So, uh, what made you decide to ask that?’ ‘Ask what?’ ‘You know, ask if we can masturbate together.’ ‘Well,’ I told her, ‘I was in my room, and I was starting to, you know, touch myself, and then I started wondering if you were doing it too, and then I thought how great it would be if we could do it together. You know?’

“She looked at me, smiling and shaking her head. ‘Wow, you are some amazing little girl. How did I get so lucky to have you as my daughter?’”

“How did we get so lucky to have you for a mother?” It was Bethany. By this time, she had her t-shirt pulled up to just below her chin, fully exposing her lovely small breasts, and she was casually fondling them. Andrea was watching Bethany, and she had her pale legs spread apart, her denim skirt hiked up, and her own hand between her legs.

I smiled and looked at them both for a moment, before answering. “Thank you, darling, that is so sweet of you. I love you.” I blew her a kiss.

“What happened next, Mommy?” asked Kristen.

“Well, little girl, what happened next was, I told my mother that I really wanted to masturbate with her, and I told her how much I wanted to watch her do it, so I could see what she did. She thought about all this for a little while, and asked me some more questions, but finally she agreed.

“My mother lowered the sheet, exposing her beautiful, creamy-white breasts. I stared at her pink nipples, thinking that she was just as pretty, if not prettier, than any of the girls I’d seen in the magazines. ‘I like looking at you, Mommy,’ I said. ‘Do you, little one?’ She held her breasts in her hands. ‘Do you think your mother has pretty breasts?’ ‘Oh, yes!’ I told her. ‘I love them.’ She put out her hand and touched my cheek. ‘What a nice girl you are.’”

“I like your titties, too, Mommy,” said Kristen, as she reached up to feel my breasts through my top. I wasn’t wearing a bra, and my nipples immediately sprung to attention when my youngest daughter touched them.

“Ooh, I like having you play with my titties, sugar puss, touching them and kissing them and sucking my nipples.”

“Can I suck your nipples now, Mommy?” Kristen had both hands on my chest, kneading my breasts. She knew very well how this drove me crazy with lust.

“Mmm, you want to suck your mother’s nipples, baby?” I licked my lips, anticipating how wonderful it would feel to have her sweet mouth on my breasts. Glancing over at Andie and Bethany, I said, “Girls, is it all right if we take just, you know, a short break from the story?”

Andrea immediately answered, “I want to suck your nipples too!”

I was short of breath as I imagined two of my daughters sucking my tits at the same time. I looked at Bethany, but she didn’t say a word, just pinched her stiff nipples between her fingers and slowly nodded her head.

“Let me just, take off my top.” I reached behind my neck to undo the buttons.

“I’ll help you,” offered Andie, who got up on her knees, opened the two buttons on the back of my blouse, and assisted me in lifting the top over my head and off.

My breasts are not large, but they are still nicely rounded. My skin is white, where I’m not tanned, with a few light freckles. My nipples are brown, and very long. At the moment, they were fully erect, begging to be sucked.

Kristen couldn’t wait. She instantly latched onto the breast on her side, holding it in both her little hands and nursing as if she was a baby. “Oh!” I cried out. It felt heavenly. I gazed lovingly at her and stroked her shiny blonde hair.

Then I turned to look at Andrea, who was taking a different approach. With her eyes locked on mine, she extended her tongue and lapped at the very end of my straining nipple. I swooned.

When my middle daughter finally stopped teasing me with her tongue and closed her mouth over my nipple to begin sucking in earnest, I slumped back on the sofa and fell into an erotic dream state, as in a trance, nearly overcome with incestuous lesbian satisfaction…..

I was only awakened from that delicious place when I felt a pair of hands sliding over my bare legs and up to my waist. Someone was tugging at my panties, trying to remove them. I raised my hips to allow my underwear to be pulled down and off. My pussy was now exposed.

Forcing my eyes open, I looked down to see Bethany’s beautiful face between my legs. Licking her lips, my thirteen-year-old daughter smiled warmly at me as she gently eased my thighs apart and then lowered her mouth to my sex.

This was the ultimate for me. As a woman who loves other women, and as one who especially loves young girls — and as one who is most highly aroused by the idea of sexual relations between female family members — this was the fulfillment of all I had ever wanted. To have my own three girls erotically pleasuring me was a forbidden dream come true.

This wasn’t our first time, of course. I’m sure it is clear by now that I’ve been sexually active with my daughters for several years. With Bethany it began when she was nine, with Andrea two years later when she was ten, and with Kristen on the day she turned eight, a little more than two years before this.

Every time I tell them the story about my own wonderful mother and how she allowed me the freedom to explore my sexuality, I become very excited and my girls do too. Something about it always leads us to start touching and kissing and licking each other. That’s why I’m happy to repeat the story as often as they like!

With Kristen sucking one breast and Andrea the other, and with Bethany licking my pussy and beginning to finger-fuck me, I knew my first orgasm would come very quickly. And it did.

As I felt myself starting to come, I reached down and grabbed Bethany’s head in my hands, forcing her face against my cunt. I climaxed loudly, screaming with pleasure, feeling her fingers thrusting deeper and harder inside me, making me come again and again.

Finally it was over. I relaxed and let her go. She sat back on her knees, smiling up at me, her lovely face covered with my juices.

“Oh my god that was amazing,” I panted. “Thank you so much, my darling. All three of you.”

I looked at Andrea and Kristen and pulled them both to me, kissing them each on the lips, slipping my tongue into first one girl’s mouth and then the other’s. We kissed that way for several minutes, back and forth, then I watched as my young daughters sensually kissed each other. When Bethany joined us, she brought her lips to mine and as we kissed I tasted my own cunt in my child’s mouth.

I love my darling girls so much! I have the happiest and most fulfilling life that any woman could ever desire.

Continue on to Chapter 3

5 Comments on Telling My Story, Chapter 2

  1. BoobMilkLover says:

    Really enjoy this/your Story(‘s). But with the Story Telling Mum still lactating it would be a hot Level-Up. ;)

  2. Ralph McCormick says:

    Extremely hot story. Both of them. For a guy my age to get excited is amazing!!

  3. kim says:

    what is wrong with me these days, I can’t seem to get thru a whole chapter any more with out cumming less than half way thru. Or is that the writing is so good at pushing my buttons.

  4. Poppabear or PoppaClyde2 says:

    Nothing wrong with you, my sweet, and everything right with Naughty Mommy’s wonderful stories.

  5. Frank says:

    Better and better. Love the sex action, and now you have introduced another love of mine, – the sex language, with the mention of finger fucking and cunt. I hope the language carries on with the girls.

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