When I awoke the next morning I found the bed empty. My dear daughter Sema had already left for work. I relished the sensation of lying in her bed. The scent of feminine desire clung to the sheets and seemed to suffuse the room. I turned on my side and pressed my face into my daughter's pillow. My hand went to my heavy breasts and I squeezed them gently, remembering my daughter's touch, her love for my voluptuous body.
How I had wanted a woman for so long, how I'd dreamed of having a woman for a lover. Always it had seemed beyond the bounds of possibility - me a single woman, a housewife, my daily round limited to trips to the market for provisions. My lesbianism I had always assumed would have to remain a secret, a possibility never to be realised. A shameful fact to be denied and suppressed, never to be anything more than a lingering gaze upon exposed midriffs and swelling breasts, a fascination for Bollywood actresses, and yes, each night, fingers caressing a responsive cunt as I dreamed of Sapphic love making.
Now my universe had been turned upside down. I had found passion with another woman. I had acknowledged publicly my lesbian desires. I had eaten out another woman's cunt and suckled at another woman's breasts. And I had offered my mature body to feminine fingers and tongue and lips - and had found myself tenderly loved. All this was marvellous enough. Yet what made it extraordinary and not a little frightening was that my first - and only - lesbian lover was my daughter. The child to whom I had given birth some 30 years before had now become not merely a daughter but a lover. The idea was intoxicating in the extreme and even the contemplation of it stirred my pussy juices again and got my nipples hardening. We were breaking every rule of society - but we were also realising needs that ran deeper and stronger than any social mores could prohibit. Nothing, I believed, could be allowed to come between our union.
Not surprisingly, I spent the rest of the day in a state of high arousal, longing for the return of my daughter, dreaming of a resumption of our tender embraces. I was supremely happy and skipped around the apartment like a girl half my age. And this, truly, was my only qualm, my one doubt. My daughter was 30, at the peak of her womanhood, the height of her sexual powers. I was 58. I had let my body become heavy, my clothing to become rather drab, my make-up basic at best. Would my daughter soon tire of me? Would she want other, lither, younger women? Could I, in short, satisfy her?
I knew the strength of my desires. I masturbated now far more often than I'd done as a young woman. My lust for pussy had grown over the years. Deep down I felt a totally sensual woman, ready to give my daughter whatever she wanted - and whenever she wanted it. But I wanted her also to desire me as a woman - to, quite frankly, fancy me.
That day I set to work to make the most of my assets. I was like a young girl seeking to impress a new lover: only I was a 58-year-old woman, and the lover I wanted to impress was my own daughter. I began by running myself a bath, into which I poured moisturising oils to make my skin smoother and softer. As I stood by the bath I gazed down at my full fleshy body. Dark hairs sprouted from my nipples and my cunt hair too was dense and lush. I had even allowed the hairs on my legs and under my arms to grow freely. I resolved to shave myself thoroughly - to get myself smooth and bald for my darling.
Accordingly I set to work. It was along job and I twice had to run fresh water into the bath. But by the time I'd finished I judged it more than worth while. Not only had my general body hair gone, but my pussy was bald and smooth for the first time in many years. The sensation of clean smooth skin was incredible and my full cunt lips were clear to view - and, of course, to touch. I was feeling hornier than ever. And not just horny - I felt more desirable and, yes, younger too.
Walking from the bathroom I lay myself down again on the bed, enjoying the warm glow of a long bath. I pick up the downloaded stories of lesbian love my daughter had left on the bedside cabinet and again read thorough them, allowing my right hand to stroke and caress my smooth body as I did so. As always the images of women finding love in each other's arms got my juices flowing right away. Irresistibly my fingers were drawn to my pussy, radiating desire and heat - the arousal of my mature ripe cunt already detectable in the air. Lazily at first I drew my finger across my exposed cunt lips, enjoying the texture of the folds of skin usually obscured by my pussy hair. Ohh, yes, that feel's so good...owww, ahhh....that's it...just there, mmm, nice and moist, nice and wet...
My fingers, so experienced in pleasuring myself, relished the sensation of exploring my bald pussy. And my pussy loved what my fingers were doing. Deftly I stroked the sides of my cunt lips, allowed my finger to play along the edges of my flesh, teasing my pussy, stirring it to bring forth more of my feminine juice, that juice that was already lubricating my passage and wetting my cunt lips. Only when I was all ready nice and horny did I allow my index finger to seek out my clit, nestling beneath the upper folds of my pussy. This I knew would carry me to the edge of my pleasure as my clit is large and sensitive and never fails to respond to my ministrations.
'Mmm, that's good. Getting nice and wet now. Slippery pussy. Keep it cuming, drench my fingers, ohhh yes, not too fast. Gently does it - I'm enjoying this. Oh yeah...I'm such a whore, such a horny bitch...this old cunt is dripping for my daughter...I'll give her what she wants, I'll give her what she needs, drench her face...ahhh...ahhh...I'm close, so close...just stroke my clit....no, no, nooahhhh!!!
I screamed and arched my back, thrusting my voluptuous body forward as I orgasmed all over my loving fingers, writhing across the bed, my arse coming to rest on the wet patch I'd made on the sheets. I raised my juice-soaked fingers to my mouth and suckled my own nectar. Spent from my performance I closed my eyes and allowed myself to slumber through the still oppressive heat of the afternoon.
When I next looked at the clock I saw it was 4pm. My daughter would be home soon! I slipped from the bed and made my way to the lavatory. I released a long hot stream of golden piss, loving the way it surged from between my now naked cunt lips. I had planed to take another shower, but now thought again. Wouldn't it be better, I considered, to greet my lover with the smell of my arousal and release still clinging to my body?
I slip on only my bathrobe and await my daughter in the drawing room. When the familiar sound of her key enters the lock I skip like the excited young lover I feel into the hallway to greet her, relieving her of her bag and jacket. Returning to my darling I find her arms open to meet me and we embrace, clasping each other so tight. I press my face into my daughter's large bosom. Sema pets my hair and gently rubs my back.
'Ohh baby, thank god your home. I've missed you so much - I've been thinking about you all day, thinking about this moment. I've been so excited - but troubled too. Have you missed me too, darling? Tell me you've been thinking about your mummy...'
Before I can continue my daughter puts me at ease in the best possible way - with a kiss. A kiss first on the top of my head. Another on my forehead. And then, as I gaze up imploringly into her eyes, a third kiss on my lips. The tenderness of that kiss is indescribable. It stills my heart and affirms what I so needed to know: that my daughter had no regrets. That she wanted me for more than a mother. Now I reached behind her head and pulled her lips back down to mine. We continued to exchange tender, exploratory kisses, the tips of our tongues lightly touching as if renewing some old acquaintance. This was, after all, the first time we had met as lovers in the warm light of day. I pushed my body harder against my daughter's.
'Its ok mummy, baby's home - and god she's wanted you too. I couldn't think of anything else all day. I kept slipping off into a dreamy trance when I thought of our lovemaking. I even slipped into the ladies room to relieve myself at lunchtime. So yes, I've been willing this moment to arrive, to be back in the arms of my gorgeous woman....'
We fall to kissing again, but more passionately now, each feeling free to demonstrate their hunger, each confident and sure in the unconditional love and desire of the other. My darling's hand reaches for my full arse and squeezes my left cheek through the fabric of my gown. My own hands are already running freely over her back and shoulders, revelling in the sensation of a woman's sensual body. Only when my daughter's hand begins to seek out the opening of my gown to find my breasts do I step back and pull the fabric back together.
