With grateful thanks to 'shygirlwhore' for her help in editing my story.
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My story begins one lazy Sunday afternoon while my daughter and I were relaxing in front of the TV after dinner. It was what we normally did and at first nothing seemed different. The birds were chirping happily outside and we were chirpy and happy inside. My daughter, however, had clearly drunk more wine with her dinner than usual, and if I look back and reflect on that particular Sunday I do remember something a little different about her behavior. She had been continuously glancing over to me and smiling, but it was an odd sort of smile and, at that time, one I couldn't put my finger on. After a while I simply brushed it aside and thought it must have been the wine and nothing more. A little while later she got up, sauntered over to me, and with what appeared to be an unusually, and even suggestive twinkle in her eye, she said.
"I'm just popping upstairs to my room for a while, mom."
Even odder, I thought, but her reasons were soon to become very clear. After about ten minutes or so I heard loud noises from her room. At first, I imagined she was dancing or moving her furniture about, but it was no such thing. The noises I heard were those of her bed thumping about making a hell of a din. Then her voice crying out the foulest of language. She was masturbating and swearing like a trooper. I know we all enjoy a bit of gusset typing, but I had never heard my own daughter doing it in such a manner, and to tell you the truth I was quite shocked. Not particularly shocked because she was masturbating, but because of the shouting and swearing accompanying it. Half the damn street could have heard her. I had absolutely no idea what was on her mind either, but when I did find out I was in for a complete and utter shock.
The loud and extremely verbal masturbating was to continue over the following couple of weeks. Not just in her bedroom either, but in the shower, the bath, the garden and on one occasion, right outside my bedroom door in the early hours of one morning. She was deeply involved with herself and it was so graphic too. I could even hear the sounds of her fingers sloshing in and out of her pussy.
The most astounding part, and one which had me rooted to the spot, was hearing her calling out my name during her climax. From that moment on, it was very clear to me that my daughter was intending to be heard, and by me. But why? What was going on in that pretty head of hers?
The night she fingered herself outside my door had me tossing and turning in my bed. I was having a job getting to sleep and eventually got up to make myself a cup of coffee in the hope that it would settle me.
Downstairs in the kitchen, as I sat alone with my thoughts while sipping my unexpected nightcap, I soon realised it was something other than coffee I wanted. Something completely different. My body was teasing me and multiple urges had overpowered me. Standing up, with my back against the fridge, I slipped my panties off and gave myself an absolutely amazing fingering. And just as my daughter had done, I let go with tirades of sexual abuse in my earth-shattering climax. Later, back upstairs in my bed, I slept like a log.
I've never been married and often enjoyed a good fingering by my own hands, at least three times a day. I guess it runs in the family. I did have a close relationship with a guy for a number of years though. My daughter, Samantha, is the result of that relationship. He wasn't a bad guy either, but I wasn't ready to settle down with him. In the end we drifted apart. But I'm happy the way things turned out and wouldn't have it any other way. I've had a few proposals since but only from the type of men who want me for my body.
I like what I've got and find much comfort from admiring and touching myself as well as others. My body is very sensitive, and my nipples especially are forever reminding me just how sensitive it is. They are often a giveaway as to my thoughts, and even now, as I speak, they are stirring beneath my t-shirt. Next it will be my pussy becoming moist. I could easily become quite attached to myself, and why not? Others enjoy me so why shouldn't I?
Some weeks later, again on a Sunday afternoon, my daughter and I were sitting watching a DVD after dinner. It was cozier than usual because it was raining gently outside, and that always seems to add more comfort to a relaxing atmosphere at home. A kind of protective feeling. Plus, we were sharing a bottle of fine wine saved for such a rainy day. Unlike the gentle rain, the wine was gushing.
It wasn't to be long before our restful Sunday afternoon around the TV began transforming itself into a party atmosphere, a drunken one at that, and with some rather risqué jokes flying around, followed by riotous laughter. That was new to me and rather fun. Samantha, behaving like a giggling schoolkid, made a couple of party hats from an old newspaper and after we'd downed the entire bottle I got something stronger from the drinks cabinet and we started on that.
With the rain now thrashing down, and rumbles of thunder in the distance, Samantha turned off the TV and put some music on. Within half an hour, while dancing cheek-to-cheek and holding each other tight, we could barely stand up and decided to sit back down, before we fell down, my daughter, collapsing into an armchair and me falling headlong onto the sofa. To my astonishment, my daughter began sucking her thumb. Something she hadn't done for years.
The thunder was right overhead now and the sky was black, transforming the sitting room into night time. I couldn't even see the drinks cabinet across the far side of the room. Suddenly, there was a deafening crack of thunder right overhead causing my daughter to almost jump from her skin.
"Oh, mom!" she cried out, leaping up and sounding very afraid. "I hate the fucking thunder!"
I patted the sofa and said for her to come and sit with me. Through the darkness, she staggered over and sat herself upon my lap while I held onto her. My daughter is very affectionate like me and even though she's nineteen, we often snuggled up together on the sofa for a cuddle, especially during a storm. We were very close like that. As she got herself comfortable, with her tiny pleated mini skirt barely covering her little pants, her long shapely legs wrapped themselves around me.
"I've got you, Sammy darling," I said. "Your Mom's here to take care of you, and that's okay to keep sucking your thumb if it relaxes you."
She was shaking and quickly snuggled her face into my neck holding me tightly with her arms encircling my back. Kissing her rosy red cheeks, I tenderly stroked her long blonde hair to soothe her. She sighed and then hiccupped. Her hiccup made me realize just how pissed we both were and I couldn't help giggling. Yes, I was behaving like a kid too. She giggled along with me and began kissing me around the neck while running her hands through my long blonde hair. And even though I tried to hide it from her, I didn't like storms either.
But a mother tries to prevent her teen from seeing the fear in her eyes. I have to be her heroine at times like that. But I guess the fact that I jumped every time there was a rumble of thunder gave away my secret. My Sammy isn't just a very pretty girl but a bright one too. And as her gentle daughterly kisses around my neck and shoulders became more loving I found myself whispering to her, telling her how lovely she was making me feel.
"You truly are such a beautiful girl, my darling daughter. I love you so much and adore such affection from you."
On hearing that, Sammy's lips, wet from her thumb-sucking, rose from my neck to kiss me around the face. It was wonderful, magical and enchanting. Our affection for each other had never been so intense. My face soon became wet from her kisses and my daughter's quickly became wet from mine. And as I did so she spoke softly to me.
"I love you too, mommy darling. I really do. I hope you don't mind me saying this but I think you're so fucking sexy and I love it when you're like this. Have you kissed our new neighbor, Mr DeVille, yet? Or has he kissed you? Or even fucked you? I bet he has."
