A Mother's Lust

by Tony Williams

"Megan, please believe me when I tell you you're not alone," says my therapist. "It's only your first visit and I know it's an enormously difficult step to confess all your feelings." She's right. "I have several patients," she continues, "who have the same problem as you."

"Really?" I say, incredulously. "I find that hard to believe. You mean to say that there are other mothers who fantasize about having sex with their own daughters?"

"More than you might think. Treating this particular condition is a speciality of mine."

I guess this is why I've been referred to her by my usual therapist. "Okay, let's say for the moment that you're right, that there are women like me, who are driven almost crazy by the sexuality of their little girls, even though those same kids haven't even reached puberty, but how many off them fantasize about offering their kids to strangers so they can watch them . . . you know, doing stuff to them?"

"Would you ever want Lola to be sexually molested in a way that would physically or mentally damage her? How old is she, by the way?"

"She's ten, almost eleven, and no, absolutely not!"

"Or freak her out, or even slightly embarrass her?"

"My fantasies are not like that. In my day dreams, Lola is always a willing participant. I just stand to one side and watch as she is seduced by an older woman."

"Have you ever . . ."

I interrupt. "Or seduces. Sometimes she seduces the older woman."

". . .have you ever acted inappropriately in any way towards her."

"Sexually? We hug and kiss. When she was little I used to wash her vagina, and yes, she did seem to enjoy it. But when I found that it got me excited, I stopped. No, I can't say I've ever had any kind of sex with my kid, not even foreplay. A long kiss on the lips is about as intimate as I ever get. But every time I look at her, especially if she's naked or in her undies, I have this almost uncontrolable urge to touch her, to arouse and satisfiy her and to bring in a third party to watch us and then enjoy her."

"Male or female?"

"Oh, female. My short lived marriage was enough to turn me off men for all time. I want Lola to grow up to be gay."

"I'm afraid you you don't get to choose. Our sexual orientation is not decided by us or by our parents. It's randomly assigned. Tell me about your childhood, Megan. What was your first sexual experience?"

Here we go, I think. I've never told anyone about what Lexi and I did. Maybe it's time I should get it off my chest for once and for all. "It was with my stepmother."

"With your consent?"

"Yes, it was, but it was alright because she wasn't my biological mother. I've never thought of what we did as incest. It never seemed wrong, and I didn't feel guilty about it, none of the guilt I feel about Lola."

_____________________________________________________________

I was about eight when my dad started going out with the woman who was to become his second wife. I absolutely adored her. She was the reverse of the Grimms' fairy tale cruel stepmother. She lavished me with affection, to the point where my father almost began to get jealous. But she had a wonderful way of calming him down when he got angry. She'd simply pull his cock out and suck him off. I know, because I used to watch. Once his cock was in her mouth, he was helpless, putty in her hands. "Megan shouldn't be watching when we have sex," he'd say, "she's way too young." But Lexi, my mom, would just dismiss his fears. "It's sex education," she'd say. "She'll learn all this stuff one day, so why not now?" One day my dad got really pissed at me over something I can't remember. We were in the bathroom and he was wearing just his boxers. I reached for his cock and pulled it out of the fly and tried to get my lips around it, hoping to calm him down. He exploded with fury and slapped me hard. Later, Mom was sympathetic.

"Watching is one thing, but you're a bit too young to be a cocksucker. Give it a year or too and try to pick someone other than your father. And by the way, pussies taste nicer than cocks." She gave me a hug and a long kiss on the lips. "Will you be my bridesmaid? Your dad and I are getting married." I was delighted. Now she'd be in the family forever.

One day I was sitting on the toilet, peeing, when she came into the bathroom. She stood staring at me. "I love watching little girls taking a pee. You look so sexy with your panties round your ankles. Lean back, let me see everything. Oh, Megan, your little muffin is so beautiful." That's what we called it. She called her own her pussy, or even her cunt but when she referred to mine, she used our special name. She dropped to her knees and took my panties from round my ankles. "Spread your legs as wide as they'll go," she said, leaning in. Her face got closer and closer and just as my bladder was becoming empty, she pressed her lips to my muffin and let me pee in her mouth. Then she licked me clean and looked up at me adoringly. "You're so fucking sexy, Megan. You get me really excited." I was all of nine years old. What she'd just done was so naughty, but then "naughty" was exciting.

Now Lexi's hugs and kisses became more and more intimate. She liked to watch when I undressed. When I was in the tub, she'd sit on the edge and soap my back, then my chest and finally in between my legs as I lay back, my thighs parted for her. And it wasn't a one way street. She'd let me soap her back and her tits and down where her pussy was cleanly shaved. I used to help her put her stockings on, smoothing them up her legs and fastening the garters, then I'd hold her panties for her to step into. One day, I leaned forward and placed a kiss on her mound, then smiled up at her. "You're sexy, Lexi, much more than I am," I murmured. "Sexy Lexi, sexy Lexi. That's what I'm gonna call you."

The next day she came home with several pairs of panties for me. They all had "kiss me" written across the front.

"Lift your skirt, my sweet," she said. I let her pull my white schoolgirl panties off and put on one of the new pairs. She knelt, her hands on my hips, looking at the words. "Does that mean I should kiss you on the lips, or on the panties?" she asked.

"Panties! It has to be the panties, Lexi. Kiss me!" And that's what she did. kissing my lower abdomen, then farther down, pushing her tongue against my muffin through the cotton. Then we heard my dad coming up the stairs and we had to pretend nothing was happening.

One day, when the three of us were having lunch at the food court in the mall, my dad told me to sit up and put my legs together. "People can see right up your dress," he said, frowning. "You should be more ladylike." I looked across at Lexi, who winked. Later when we were alone, she told me that she'd always loved showing her panties off in public when she was a little girl, and even now that she was grown up, and when dad wasn't around, she let guys and girls look up her skirt. "I love looking at your panties, Megan. You don't have to keep your knees together when we're out on our own. Show the whole world how sexy you are. Show me now." I spread my legs for her and pulled my dress up round my waist. She touched my muffin with her fingertips. "Your panties are adorable, my little angel," she breathed.

To say I had a crush on her would be a complete understatement. She filled my whole life. She was the best mom a little girl could have, though in many ways, she was like a big sister. She got books from the library for me, books about sex, every aspect of it, and answered all the questions I had. When I asked her at what age a girl should start masturbating she looked amazed. "You mean you don't masturbate? Oh, Megan, I was much younger than you when I started. Come into the bedroom and I'll show you what to do." We took each other's panties off and sat on the bed, cross legged, facing each other. I watched as she caressed her pussy lips with her finger tips, and I saw her finger pushed all the way inside, and then paid close attention as she took her swollen clit between her finger and thumb and stroked it as though it was a tiny little dick. She encouraged me to emulate her, and showed me all sorts of different techniques to get myself aroused. She let me suck on the dripping wet fingers that had been inside her. Then she pushed me on to my back and put her face between my legs. I just lay back and let it happen. That was when I had my first orgasm. I decided I wanted to be a lesbian when I grew up. I was ten years old.

Lexi wasn't the only one. There were girls at school. I was always the agressor, finding ways to persuade them to let me kiss them. For most it was just a silly game, but some responded, young as they were. It wasn't often that my hand between a girl's legs would result in rejection. I taught a lot of kids how nice it was to be fingered. I had a brief affair with an eleven year old in my class, and asked Lexi if she could sleep over. She was enthusiastic and made the girl feel welcome, then packed us off to bed where my new friend learned about the joys of cunnilingus. The next day, Lexi insisted that I tell her everything that happened and she listened with her hand down the front of her panties as I described how we'd kissed and undressed each other and got into some really heavy mutual masturbation.

"You just made me cum," she said, breathing hard and licking her fingers. "Here, have a taste."

One day I got my period. "Congratulations, you're a woman," said Lexy. But as the months went by, she seemed to be cooler towards me. She'd stroke my tiny budding tits, but she said she liked me better when my chest was flat.

"Why? Aren't I sexier now?"

"Yes, but you've lost your innocence. That was the most exciting thing about you. You were just a little girl and I could do anything I liked to you."

"You can do anything you like now," I said, plaintively.

"It's not the same. I wish you were still a litttle girl, but you've grown up. I still love you but in a different way."

I was broken hearted and distracted myself by agressively seducing schoolmates. I licked a lot of muffins and fondled a lot of tits. I was growing up.

___________________________________________________________

My shrink listens to all of this dispassionately, nodding occasionally. "After I left for college, she and my dad got divorced and I never saw her again. I still miss her. She was more than a mother to me."

"Clearly. It explains a lot. She made you aware that prepubescent girls are sexual creatures, and that includes your daughter, Lola. Knowing that, it's not unnatural for you to be attracted to her. Incest is more common than you might think, in fact some authorities on the subject claim it to be widespread with most parents repressing the urge, or at least not acting on it. And your desire to share her with strangers is your mind's way of coping with the guilt that any incestuous activity would engender. Your conscience tells you that it's okay for others to have sex with her but not you. So you can 'enjoy' her, so to speak, without paying any psychological price." I can understand this on an intellectual level, but she sounds rather clinical and detached. I'd been looking for a bit more empathy.

It does kind of make sense, though it doesn't solve the problem. "You say you treat other mothers with the same problem. Could I talk to some of them?"

"Absolutely not! I have to respect patient confidentiality, including yours. I'm sorry. Ah, it seems your fifty minutes is up. Come and see me next week and we'll work on ways for you to cope with your problem. My receptionist will let you know when I'm available." She stands, comes from behind her desk and gives me one of those upper body hugs that don't mean shit.

Out in the lobby, I'm waiting while her receptionist looks through her diary. My eye is attracted to a woman sitting on one of the chairs. She's handome in an aristocratic kind of way, in her late twenties, wearing a pair of expensively tailored slacks and a cream silk blouse, through which I can see a lacey undergarment. Her dark hair is pulled back tightly in a bun, giving her the look of a Spanish aristocrat. She reeks of class. I wonder if she's here because she wants to have sex with her daughter, kiss and fondle her, undress here, touch her body in intimate places, and . . . the receptionist interrupts my fantasy.

"Next Wednesday at eleven," she says, handing me a card with the details.

"Thank you," I say, smile at the the other woman and walk out.

I sit in my car. I think I'll splash out and buy a blouse like that. It would look good on me. I'd wear it with nothing underneath so that my nipples would show. All the girls in my local gay bar would love it. Lola would love it, too. I'd buy one that would be too long, so that Lola could wear it as a dress, showing off her own nipples and her bright yellow panties. I'm getting wet thinking about it.

My shrink seems a bit cold and distant. Maybe she doesn't approve of incest, even while making a good living off it. Nevertheless, I feel a sense of relief that now I'm not the only person in the world with my particular perversion. It did feel good to talk about it, but I'm not sure that I'll keep the next appointment. I wonder if that woman in reception is a regular. If she has a daughter, how old might she be? A preteen, ideally. I picture them together, the little girl in her panties, faceless, the mother wearing the silk blouse and nothing else, her pussy shaved, her daugher in her arms, locked in a sensual kiss. I have a sudden urge to talk to her, to tell her about the way I feel abut my girl. I look at my watch. Fortyfive minutes to go. Time for a coffee.

___________________________________________________________

I'm back in the car park, leaning against my car door. I'm gonna try to talk to the woman. It's not just because she might be in therapy for the same reason I am, but she has a certain allure that draws me to her. She comes out of the clinic, steps over to a newish looking BMW and beeps the door open.

"Excuse me, can I talk to you?" I call.

She turns and looks at me. "How can I help you?"

"I've just had my first session with Doctor Whatsherface . . .Jesus, I can't even remember her name . . . but I don't think I'll be coming back. She wasn't very sympathetic. I saw you in the waiting room and I need someone to talk to, someone who might understand what I'm going through, and . . ."

"Just a moment." Her voice is cold. "You want to talk to me about what happens in therapy session? I don't think so! The point of therapy is that it's all confidential."

"You wouldn't have to tell me anything. If you could just listen to me, then if you wanted to walk away, that would be fine. I really need help. Nice blouse, by the way."

She looks down at herself and smiles, then looks back at me. "You'd be a lot prettier if you smiled," she says. "Just listen, huh? I don't suppose it could hurt."

"It wouldn't take long. There's a coffee shop across the street."

She hesitates. "Fifteen minutes, then I'm gone."

"Thank you so much." Now I'm smiling.

____________________________________________________________

I've had enough coffee, so I elect to drink mango juice. We find a table in the corner and sit down. We introduce ourselves. Her name is Naomi. Jewish, maybe? Who cares?

"So what's so urgent that you have to pick up a stranger to off load your troubles?"

I lean forward. "I'm not gonna ask why you're seeing the good doctor, but I'm told she's a specialist in 'family matters', so to speak, so maybe we're in the same boat. Here's my story." I take a deep breath. "I have a daugher who's eleven years old. Here, take a look." I hold out my phone showing a head shot of Lola, a big friendly smile on her face.

"Stunning!" she says. She takes out a pair of reading glasses and looks closer. I love women in glasses. It makes them look smart. "You must be proud of her."

"I am. Her name is Lola. Here's the thing. I was seeing the doc because of the way I feel about her. The word 'inappropriate' comes to mind. I have fantasies about doing things to her, nothing unpleasant, just stuff that's a bit more intimate than might be considered healthy. Look at these." I thumb to another pic of Lola lying on a rug on the lawn, wearing just a pair of panties.

"She's cute, Megan." I scroll to another one, this time of Lola naked on the couch, sitting with her knees up and her thighs spread wide. Technically speaking, it's child pornography. Naomi's eyes go big, then she smiles at me. "I'm not surprised you're having fantasies about her. She's adorable! It looks like she enjoys being photographed."

"Oh, she does. She loves showing herself off. She can be quite a tease. I have a hard time keeping my hands off her."

"And you think that I might be having therapy for the same reason?"

"Well . . ."

"I have a daughter, too. She's the same age as your kid, though perhaps not quite so pretty." She pauses. "I'm gonna trust you with my big secret, because it seems you need someone to talk to and I think you'll respect my confidentiality. Her name's Poppi."

"I'll take your secrets to the grave."

"I don't have a hard time keeping my hands off my little girl, because I don't."

"You don't touch her?"

"I don't keep my hands off her." My jaw drops. "Ever since she was a toddler, we behave together in totally intimate ways. She was five or six when she told me that she rubbed her pee pee in bed at night and it made her feel good. I told her I did the same and she asked me to show her. We share the same bed. We shower together. We like to dress and undress each other. She likes nothing more than to creep up behind me, run her hand up the inside of my thigh and check to see if my panties are wet. She spends hours sucking on my nipples, gently biting them. The first time I licked her pee pee, she said, 'Let me do it to you, Mommy. Let me, please!' She was so eager to arouse me. She can make me cum in half a minute. It's amazing how uninhibited she is. She even fists me."

"Holy shit! Puts her hand inside you?" My panties are getting wet.

"Half way up her arm. And we play pee pee games together, you know, golden showers."

My mouth is dry with excitement. "Do you have a picture of her?"

She finds her phone and turns it on, handing it to me. "Not quite as explicit as your pictures, but you can see how sexy she is." She right. Poppi is standing beside a gate in her school uniform, a pleated skirt, white blouse and white ankle socks. She looks innocent enough, but I imagine what she would look like in her undies (white, I hope). I think she's just as pretty as Lola.

"She's an angel," I breathe.

"I have more pictures at home, pictures like yours." She smiles at me. "Naughty pictures."

"So why are you seeing the therapist?"

"It's all getting a bit out of hand. She'll reach puberty soon and it won't be the same. She'll find someone else and drift away from me. I need to prepare for that day. But you're right about Doctor Whatsherface. She's not the warmest person. Finish your juice and let's go my place. You have time?"

"All the time in the world, at least until Lola gets out of school."

"Am I gonna get to meet her?"

"Absolutely. I want her to get to know you. I think she's gonna like you."

"Drink your juice and let's go."

__________________________________________________________

I follow Naomi in my car. Not surprisingly, she lives in a big house in an upscale suburb. Once inside she offers me coffee, but I'm all coffeed out. We sit in her living room in deep armchairs, facing each other.

"What I can't figure out," I say, getting right to the point, "is why you don't feel any guilt about having sex with Poppi? I thought that the incest taboo was a basic instinct, that we evolved that way so that the species avoids inbreeding."

"True, but evolution doesn't explain every human desire. You'd think that gay people would be selected out over time, but they're not. There are always exceptions to every kind of behaviour. I'm not entirely sure, but I think that I don't feel guilty because right from the start, it was Poppy who initiated intimate contact. She asked me about masturbation, remember? She didn't need any encouragement to fondle my tits, or finger my pussy. When she was very young, it didn't seem unnatural, and as she grew older, I didn't have the heart to tell her to stop. Not only that, she really gets me excited. I tell myself that all I ever did was comply with her wishes, at least when it came to sex. Whatever Poppy wants, Poppy gets. Mind you, I drew the line at buying her a pony for Christmas. Anyway, how do you know you're gonna suffer guilt if you've never tried it? You might just feel fine. How long have you been conflicted about this?"

"For the last year or so. She teases me, showing off her panties, wandering about the house with nothing on, taking a pee right in front of me. At her age, she should be embarassed by all that stuff. And it's not just me. She flashes her undies at total strangers, and the weird thing is, that turns me on more than anything."

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me. I get excited when Poppy puts on a show. By the way, why are you staring at my tits?"

"It's not your tits, it's the blouse. I'm picturing how Lola would look in it. How long is it?" She unbuttons it, pulls it out from her slacks, takes it off and holds it up. "It's long enough to serve as a dress," I say, "with a silk scarf round the waist as a belt. The three quarter sleeves would be full length on her." Naomi's camisole is also silk, with lace trim across the top. She's not wearing a bra and I can see her nipples.

"And you'd be able to see her panties."

"Precisely."

"It's my gift to you, on one condition."

"Which is?"

"That I get to see Lola wearing it."

I laugh. "She'll love it. She'll want to show herself off to you."

"While you watch." I laugh. She stands and looks down at herself. "These slacks would look good on you. Why don't you take your jeans off and try them on?" I feel a surge of excitement. She wants to get me undressed. Fine with me. She's a very handsome woman. I stand and drop my jeans, showing my white bikini briefs. She takes her slacks off and I can see a very expensive looking pair of panties which have short loose legs with lace trim. They match the camisole. She looks like something out of a movie set in the thirties. Before she hands me the slacks, she say, "Take that shirt off. You look like a lumberjack." I unbutton my plaid shirt and let it slip from my shoulders. I'm not wearing a bra. I hear her take in a sharp breath. "My God, you're lovely," she murmurs. The next thing I know, her arms are round me and her lips are pressed to mine. I open my mouth and let her tongue in. The smooth silk of her underwear pressed against my body feels incredibly sexy and I put my hand on her butt and pull her in to me. Her thigh goes between my legs and I can't stop myself from humping her. We break apart. "All this talk about sex with little girls has me all worked up," she says. "You're trembling."

"I haven't been kissed by anyone for months."

"Well , we're gonna make up for lost time. Come into our bedroom." She takes me by the hand upstairs to the room where she and her daughter sleep together, where her little girl nibbles on her tits, where they lick each others pussies and, I'm sure, drive each other crazy.

______________________________________________________

I'm dying to meet Poppi, a little girl who loves incestuous sex with her mom and, by all accounts, hasn't suffered any harm from it. If I can just see her and Naomi standing close, looking at each other, and know that there's no reluctance felt by either of them, then perhaps I can entertain the idea of crossing the line with my own daughter.

"I can't wait to meet Lola," Naomi says, echoing my thoughts.

We're standing beside the BMW outside the school where both girls are students, waiting to pick them up. I see Lola in the throng of kids and wave and she waves back and comes to me, looking puzzled.

"Where's our car?" she asks.

"This is Naomi." They shake hands, Lola offering a firm grip just as I've taught her. "We're gonna pick up her daughter, Poppi, then go back to their place and hang out for a bit."

"I know Poppi. She's in my class."

"Are you friends?"

"She's okay. I quite like her." Then Naomi sees her daughter and calls her over.

"This is Lola's mom," she says, and I look into the eyes of an angel, her hair in bangs and a ponytail, her dark eyes big, her mouth just begging to be kissed.

"You're much prettier than your picture, Poppi," I say, and she rewards me with a smile. My pulse races. We all pile into the car and minutes later we're back at Naomi's house. Once inside, she fixes Pepsis for the kids and glasses of wine for us and we sit on the two couches placed either side of a low coffee table. The conversation gets round to what the girls like about their school and it turns out that Poppi's favorite subject is P.E. and she's on the school gymnastic team.

"What exactly?" I ask, "beam, trapeze, what?"

"Just the mat," she says.

"Like handsprings and stuff?"

"Show her," says Naomi. "Do that leg spread thing." The two little girls grin as Poppi gets up, kneels on the carpet with her weight on her forearms, then suddenly swings her body up so that she's inverted and to my delight, her school dress falls down round her head, revealing the whole of her body, from feet to armpits, clad, as I'd hoped in white cotton panties.

"Awsome!" I say.

"You haven't seen the best yet," says Naomi. Poppi spreads her legs, one forward, one back until they're perfectly horizontal. Naomi gets to her feet and stands beside her inverted daughter. "She's supposed to form a straight line, from heel to heel," she says, running one hand along the girl's calf, over the hollow of the back of her knee, along her thigh, across the center where just a thin strip of white cotton hides her holy of holies, then out along her other leg to her foot. Am I mistaken or did her hand linger at the mid-point? Poppi brings her legs up vertically then spreads them again, each leg in the opposite position from before. Once again, Naomi's hand runs from ankle to ankle, and his time she definitely lingers at the middle. I hear Lola giggle.

"That's what Miss Evans always does," she says.

"The P.E. teacher?"

"Yes," says Noami. "A bit of a lez, aparently. I ought to give her a call, have her over."

"She does it to me, too," says Lola.

"You never told me," I say.

"It's no big deal. We all think it's just a big joke." I'm not amused, though I have to confess I am a bit excited. Poppi collapses on to the floor, her dress tangled round her head.

"Let's get that thing off you," says her Mom, removing it and throwing it aside. "You always look much nicer in just your panties."

"I have to agree," I say boldly. My daughter giggles again. Poppi just lies there on the floor, legs spread invitingly, a big grin on her flushed face.

"I bet you can't do that," she challenges me.

"You're right, there's not a chance."

"I can do it," says Lola, falling to her knees and repeating Poppi's performance, exposing her own white panties. Poppi scrambles to her feet and watches intently as Lolas legs open like a pair of scissors. "Straight line!" she commands, and runs her hand, just as her mom had done, along one leg and across my little girl's crotch and out to the other end. Like her mom, she lingers briefly at the mid point and I feel my heart pounding. My sweet innocent little kid is being felt up by another girl. Lola falls into a heap on the floor and I suggest that she might as well get rid of her dress, just like Poppi. Now the girls sit side by side on their couch, two darling little angels in their underwear, their flat chest and narrow shoulders making them look like two little boys.

"I nearly forgot, Lola" says Naomi, "I promised your mom I'd give her this blouse so that you could wear it as a dress." She pulls it over her head and hands it to my daughter who tries it on. Just as I'd thought, she looks adorable in it, her panties and her nipples showing clearly through the flimsy silk. Naomi stands and takes her pants off and hands them to me. "Put these on. They're gonna look a lot nicer than those ratty jeans, and please take that ugly shirt off. You need to show of your tits more."

"My mom's tits are tiny," says Lola.

"I know," says Naomi, smiling. "That's why I like 'em. I got acquainted with them earlier." The girls giggle and I think I may be blushing. I strip down to my panties and put the finely tailored pants on. They fit quite well.

Lola turns to Naomi. "You look nice. I love your underwear." In a flimsy silk camisole and her expensive looking loose tap pants, she's breathtaking, but I can only look at her for so long before I have to tear my gaze away and admire the two little girls sitting on the couch showing off their schoolgirl panties. Poppi is staring at my bare tits, which makes me feel warm all over. Naomi puts her arm round my shoulder and kisses me on the cheek, then her other hand reaches up and begins to caress my left breast. The girls stare at us.

"Mom!" gasps Lola. "She's feeling your tits!" I'm too excited to say anything. The touch of Naomi's palm and fingers on my nipple is driving me crazy and the fact that my own daughter and her friend are watching merely adds to the thrill. "I didn't know you were a lez, Mom."

"Is this freaking you out, Lola?" I ask.

She grins. "Not really. I'm just a bit surprised, that's all. I don't mind if you're a lesbian."

"Poppi doesn't mind me having fun with other girls, do you, Poppi?"

"I think it's cool. I wanna be a lez when I grow up." Lola stares at her, intrigued.

I can't keep my hands off Naomi any longer and I slip the shoulder straps of her cami off her, letting it fall, then bend down and begin kissing her nipples, which are already sticking out provocatively.

"Oh, my God," whispers Lola.

"Poppi," says Naomi, "why don't you take Lola into your bedroom for a while so that Megan and I can get to know each other a little better." The two girls grin knowingly. Poppi stands and offers her hand to Lola to pull her to her feet and leads her to the stairs.

"You can try on some of my outfits," I hear her say.

Naomi takes my face in both of her hands, presses her lips to mine and thrusts her tongue deep into my mouth. I put one arm round her neck and with my other hand, pinch her nipple hard. She comes up for air.

"Would you be angry if I told you that right now I'm imagining your daughter in my arms?" I don't know what to say. I try to picture what it would look like and I can feel my panties getting wet. "And not only that, but seeing how Poppi's been staring at your naked chest, I'm thinking about she probably wants you to do to her all the things that I do."

I think about our conversation earlier in the day, in the coffe shop. If I remember correctly, she likes to undress her girl and eat her pussy and Poppi returns the favor, and even fists her. They do watersports. Poppi nibbles her tits. My heart is pounding and I know my face is red. Naomi looks into my eyes and I feel her hand unzipping the classy pants. Her hand goes inside my panties and as her fingers touch my, my orgasm explodes like nuclear bomb and I fall back on the couch, swimming in an ocean of happiness. Naomi waits patiently as I recover.

"I made you cum," she murmurs, a smile on her face. "It doesn't seem to take much."

"It wasn't just your fingers, it was the thought of having Poppi to myself, of kissing her, caressing her body and letting her do anything she wants to me."

"And you could do anything you want to her. She likes older women. She could do all the things she does to me."

"Like?"

"Just about anything you can think of. Let's go in my bedroom, in case the girls come out. Lola might not be quite ready for the sight of my head between your thighs." She takes my hand and starts to lead me upstairs, but the pants fall down round my ankles. I kick them off. "Take your panties off too, my love." Naked I walk with Naomi up the stairs and go into her room. The door closes behind us.

____________________________________________________________

An hour later and we're all sitting round the dining table, eating soup and salad. Lola still has on the sheer blouse and Poppi is in just her panties. I've put the expensive pants back on, plus Naomi's silk camisole. All Naomi has on is a rather short towel which is threatening to fall off at any second. We ask the girls what did they do while they were alone together in Poppi's room, but they just giggle and blush and whisper to each other.

"What did you two guys do?" Lola asks us.

"We made love," says Noami.

More giggles from the girls. "I know what they probably did," says Poppi. "The sort of stuff that all lesbians do. Fingers and tongues and stuff. Did you use your vibrator, Mom?"

Naomi looks at me. "I think the details should remain a secret between Megan and me. Lovers don't usually reveal what happens in the bedroom. But we did have a lot of fun, didn't we, Megan?" My daughter is staring at me, still trying to get over the discovery that her Mom is gay. I give her a reassuring smile. We finish eating and I stand.

"It's time to go home, Lola. We have lots to talk about."

Naomi stands and takes me by the hand and leads me into the kitchen. She puts an arm round my shoulder and murmurs in my ear. "Why don't you take Poppi home with you and leave Lola here with me? I promise I'll take care of her." At first I'm staggered by the idea, but as I think about it, my excitement mounts. I try to imagine what Poppi and I might get up to and my heart starts pounding. But can I trust my daughter in the care of my new lover? Heck, what can she do? I'm sure Lola knows how to say "no" if things get out of hand. "You know that Poppi will like the idea," she adds. "Let's find out how Lola feels about it."

Back at the dining table I ask Lola if she would like to spend the night here with Naomi while I take Poppi home.

"Yeah, go for it!" says Poppi.

"I guess so," says Lola, then looks at Naomi and blushes.

"I gotta put some clothes on," says Poppi.

"Your school uniform will do," I say. "You look pretty sexy in it."

"In any case," says Naomi, grinning, "you won't be wearing it for long." Poppi laughs and runs upstairs.

"Are you sure you're okay with this," I ask my daughter.

She looks at Naomi. "It's gonna be so cool," she says, her enthusiasm clear in her voice.

_________________________________________________________

In the car on the way home, Poppi can't wait to tell me about what she and Lola did in her bedroom. "We got naked and took lots of pictures of each other. Then we inspected each other's vaginas and touched each other and I put my fingers deep inside her. Then I asked her to sit on my face. She thought it was funny until I put my tongue right inside her and then I felt her mouth down between my legs and we just licked each other over and over. I came twice and I made Lola cum too." Her voice is excited as it all comes out in one breathe. "And then I told her about all the things I do with my mom, the oral sex, the fisting, the pee pee games, everything. I think she was pretty amazed. I thought she might be grossed out because I'm doing it with my Mom, but soon she got used to the idea and was asking me for details. She wanted to fist me but she could only get three fingers in." I'm having a hard time concentrating on my driving, and my panties are soaking wet again. Finally we get home and I take her hand and lead her inside.

"Where's your bedroom?" she asks and I lead her upstairs. She sits on the bed and lets me take her shoes off, giving me a lovely view up her school dress. Then I take her ankle socks off and sit back on the floor as she stands and lifts the dress high up on her chest, proudly displaying her nipples. Then she pulls the dress up over her head and tosses it aside. "Take my panties off," she commands. I'm putty in her hands as I slide them down her thighs, to reveal her hairless mound and the vertical smile of her little girly pee pee. She sits down on the bed, spread her legs and with her fingers spreads her slit wide. I stare at her most intimate parts, thrilled that she's allowing me to look. Then I stand up.

"My turn," I say, lifting the camisole over my head and letting my pants fall. "Now you can pull my panties down, my little darling. Yes, I've shaved my pubic hair off so that I look more like a little girl. You see how different my pee pee is? See the lips and look the the little bump at the top, my clit. It's just like your Mom's."

She's breathing rapidly and reaches out her hand to touch me. Her middle finger goes inside me and then her hand slides up until she can put her finger and thumb either side of my clit. She plays with it as though it's a little dick. The smell of sex is filling the room and I push her on to her back, drop to my knees, spread her thighs and put my lips against her little girl's pee pee. I'm in heaven. I tongue her exactly as Naomi had tongued me, the same thrusts, licks, playing a tremolo on her tiny bud and then bury two fingers deep inside her. For a moment my mind drifts and I wonder what Naomi is doing to my little girl. A quick series of images fill my mind and a wave of lust breaks over me, and suddenly and unexpectedly I cum explosively. I stop licking Poppi and just kneel there, my face resting between her legs, then I look up at her. She's sensed that I came and smiles down at me.

"Make me cum, Megan," she begs me. "Make me cum like my Mom does." She reaches down and pushes my head back into her crotch. It doesn't take long. Half a minute later, she cries out, shudders than relaxes and I come up for air, my face dripping with saliva and pussy juice. For a preteen girl, she's very wet.

It's the start of a long, exciting evening. Poppi tells me that I can do anything I like to her and when my imagination runs out, she has suggestions of her own. We shower together and she lets me pee on her face, and then I get my first golden shower from her. I love it! She fists me, getting her whole hand inside me, half way up her forearm. She fucks my ass with my vibrator and teaches me the joys of anal sex. She spends a long time sucking and biting my nipples until I lose count of how many times I cum. But most of the evening is spent with her head between my legs, driving my to heights of ecstacy that I never knew were possible.

Naomi was an experienced lesbian who showed me so many ways to arouse a lover, but her daughter was much more imginative. Finally, we slept.

_______________________________________________________

It's the following morning, and we arrive at Naomi's house to pick my daughter up. Poppi jumps out of the car just as the front door opens to reveal my little girl, in the sheer top that was Naomi's gift, her panties in her hand. I wonder if the neighbors are looking, because if they are, they'll have a lot to gossip about. Poppi jumps into her arms and they hug each other. We go inside where Naomi is coming down the stairs wearing a white cotton man's singlet and nothing else. She smiles at me and invites us all into the kitchen for coffee. The two girls sit side by side at the breakfast bar, their heads together, whispering and giggling, no doubt recounting the events of the previous evening and night.

"So," says Naomi to me, "how did it go?"

I smile enigmatically. "Ah," I reply, "I think you'd better ask your daughter. She might want to keep some secrets, thought I have nothing to hide."

"I'll tell you all about it later, Mom," says Poppi. I look at Lola who gives me a self satisfied smirk, but says nothing.

Ten minutes later, on the way home in the car, she pulls her panties over her feet, lifts her hips and pulls them up. "I like sleeping naked," she suddenly remarks. "I'm gonna do it all the time from now on. In fact, I'm getting to like having no clothes on. Who needs clothes in this weather?" I'm wishing the summer will last forever.

"What did you guys get up to?" I ask, trying to sound casual. My heart is racing.

"Oh," she says, like it's no big deal, "all the stuff that lesbians do. All the things that Poppi does with her Mom, you know, kissing, fingering, oral sex and stuff. Mom, when we get home, will you let me pee on you? It's really cool, being peed on. Naomi and I really like it. Do you think your vibrator will fit up my butt? And I wanna show you how she masturbates. It's different from the way I do it." What has happended to my innocent little girl? It seems she's been totally corrupted. "You know, I like being gay, Mom, it's a lot of fun."

She's right.

______________________________________________________

On Wednesday, I get a call from Dr. Whatsherface. "You missed your appointment, Megan," she says. "It's really importand for therapy to be a regular thing. I can fit you in on Friday."

"Don't bother," I tell her. "I'm cured."

"What do you mean?"

"Cured," I say. "No longer in need of thereapy. Not guilty, you might say, though I imagine some people might not agree. Not in the slightest bit guilty. I don't feel any guilt at all. You should know that earlier in the week, not only did I sleep with a preteen girl, not only did I engage in all sorts of gay sex with her, including being fisted and peed on, but I also freely gave my very willing daughter to her mother, a relative stranger, and came in my pants when my little girl told me of all the perverted things they got up to all night long. And not only that, the following night my daughter slept in my bed and we hardly got any sleep because she and I were . . ."

Fuck! She's hung up on me. Fucking up-tight bitch!

The End.