"Mmm, this looks like a nice place to sit," said Carol as she purveyed the scene. She had walked a few blocks until she came upon a park and found just the right spot under a great tree. The grass beneath it was green, the soil was soft, and there was plenty of shade to protect all her exposed skin from the rays of the sun. Well, her skin and her two girls' as well, whom she had carried the whole way without ever putting down. She continued to carry them as she approached the tree and only set them down once she took her seat, folding her legs underneath her and suppressing a giggle as the grass tickled the flesh in the cleft of her ass.
Katherine wasn't quite as lucky. A leaf still attached to a fallen twig brushed delicately up her clitoris, eliciting a jump and a shiver out of the naked petite girl. She tossed the offending item away before sitting on her knees, though the nervous look in her eye as she gazed at her surroundings indicated she was still self-conscious. As was how she pressed both hands over her crotch in a way that also covered her breasts. The sight made Carol's smile deepen. Katy looked so adorable and innocent like that, even though not long ago, she had fingered herself to the point of orgasm in Carol's arms. The nudist could still feel the black woman's juices dripping down her stomach.
You're on your way to becoming a fine Zenrist, my sweet daughter from another mother.
Mindy was faring a little better, which was no surprise considering she still had clothes on. Even so, there was still a level of discomfort in the way she carried herself. Perhaps it was because of the dampness in her shirt. The poor girl had gotten sprayed by Katherine previous orgasm and it no doubt felt strange, alien, and perhaps even unsanitary to feel the vaginal fluids of another woman just cling to her like that. She was still a virgin after all; the whole concept of sex was still a strange and maybe even frightening one. That thought made Carol shiver all over in delight. Oh, she couldn't wait to see her dear daughter, whom she had nurtured in her womb nearly two decades ago and grew into a gorgeous young lady, turn into a real woman. It was almost enough to make her want to crawl all over Mindy and taste her untouched flower right now!
But, there was something else that she suspected was causing her daughter's unease, and it wasn't the unintentional intimate contact she made with Katy's orgasm. No, Carol sensed it was the teen's sudden loss of physical contact with Carol herself. The girl, despite her awkwardness at being carried, cherished being held by her mother and yearned to be closer to her on every possible level, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. That much Mindy said when she suckled on Carol's nipple. And the now sudden distance, as miniscule as it was, was somewhat distressing for her. It made Carol's desire to seize her again and crush her against her chest even stronger. But that...would have to wait. For now was a time that needed to be spent learning.
Carol reached into her purse and withdrew the most precious book she had ever read, the text that changed her life: the Scripture of Zenriah. Mindy's eyes followed it closely. "So that's where you were keeping it," she said.
Carol raised an eyebrow at her. "Oh? You were looking for it?"
"I...was interested in reading it just a little,' said the teen with a nervous nibble of her lip. "Just...to feel a little closer to you."
"Oh, that's so sweet. Well, you'll be delighted to know that you'll be getting to hear a little bit more from it right now. Perhaps when we are done, I will see about getting you a copy for yourself."
"I...would like that."
"So...what does this have to do with mother-daughter relationships?" said Katy.
"Simple. There are many passages within Zenrist Scripture that describe the ideal way to deepen the bond between mother and daughter, and considering both your interests in the subject, I thought it would be fitting to educate you. So if you would please," Carol opened the book, "allow me to tell you the story of Diana and Conceicao."
***
Diana knew not what fate befell the ship she had boarded. She knew not whether her flags still flew, her mast still stood, or her crew still toiled. She knew not if the vessel had sunk away in the storm. All Diana knew was to cling with all her might upon the splintering shard of wood that was all that stood between her and the crushing, suffocating depths of the raging ocean. She was thrown by the waves, battered by the rain, and stricken by the thunderous claps of the clouds above, as though the heavens themselves too were subjecting her to their bestial wrath. Spiraling tendrils of whirlwinds and tornadoes coiled into the sea to stir its fury anew.
Yet still did Diana cling, determined to live, even as the water burned her lungs, the salt stung her eyes, the wind battered her flesh, and the wood drew out her blood. Yet still did Diana cling to light and to life, even as the sea, the sky, and the night all proclaimed that she die this hour and then the next hour and for all the hours to come. Yet still did Diana cling to light and life and wood and hope when most would fall to despair and grief in the wake of such unholy suffering.
At last, the sea did surrender. Knowing it would never take Diana's life through its unending fury, it hurled her beaten and bloodied form upon the sands of an isle, unmarked, uncharted, and unnamed by hands of mortal woman and wereman alike. And from there did the storm lash her flesh again, hammering her body with rain and hail and wind and thunder, hoping to crush her upon the wretched earth where the ocean had failed. But even in her fainting and her unconsciousness did Diana hold on, staying strong and refusing to die even as Death itself clawed upon her with its ravenous, skeletal talons. Alas, 'twas not meant to be, for the Goddess had aught else in store for her.
From high above, the storm abated and from far away, the sun arose. And though Diana did not die, she lay asleep on the beach, still clutching the wood that saved her as the waves crested and rose upon her form. The sun sank and the full moon glowed, and still she did not awaken. 'Twas only when the sun ascended again the following morn that Diana rose with it. Hungered, hot, hurt, and thirsty, she would surely have perished there on that isle, if not from famine or from sunfire, then from solitude and grief and madness. But when her eyes fluttered open, they fell upon that which would become her salvation forevermore.