What had she done?
What had she done?
Mona was sitting on the condo's loveseat, her head in her hands. A burning torrent of emotion was running through her chest, and her whole body felt flushed. Her skin was incredibly sensitive, so that even the shorts and loose t-shirt that she wore felt heavy and scratchy. She tugged them off and threw them aside, hoping that feeling the air against her bare skin would cool her down. It didn't help. Now she was dressed only in her panties, her body glistening with sweat. Her chest was heaving.
She'd kissed her daughter. No, she'd
made out
with her daughter.
It was shameful. She was drunk. She hadn't been thinking about what she was doing. Her instincts just... took over.
But no matter how much she tried, she couldn't make herself regret the kiss. The delicious taste of Hazel's lips still lingered on her own, and Mona could still feel the slippery sensation of their tongues pressing together. And even though she tried to ignore it, her body was craving Hazel's even more than it had before.
Mona's hands slid along her body. She squeezed her eyes shut. This awful heat inside of her seemed like it wouldn't go away. Worse, it was coiling around itself, forming a lewd pressure deep inside of her. How long had it been since she'd felt like this? Hazel's father had certainly never made her feel so desperately needy. She hadn't liked being touched by him very much at all. But Hazel herself? She treasured every time she was able to hold her daughter, to touch her hands or her shoulders, to kiss her cheek, to smell her hair...
She loved Hazel. Her daughter was the only person whose body had felt
right
to her.
Mona bit her lip. The image of Hazel, dripping wet and clad only in a towel, popped into her memory. Mona clenched her toes as a trill of delight raced through her.
It wouldn't hurt to think of her daughter while she took care of this rush of feelings building inside of her, would it? Certainly not. She didn't want to hurt Hazel. She just loved her so much. Maybe she'd taken things too far because of this awful stuff she drank. But that was it. She was just going to enjoy a private little fantasy, then everything would be normal again...
Mona touched her fingers to her lips. She flicked her own tongue out to moisten them, then she slid her hand down her ample chest, to her soft stomach, then to the waistband of her panties. Except in her mind, it wasn't her own hand doing it. It was Hazel, sitting in her lap, a nervous little smile on her face as she explored her mother's body...
"Nnnngh...
ah~"
Mona usually wasn't one for self-love like this. She could never get it to feel as good as she needed it to. But now, with her head in a fiery whirl and slutty half-naked images of her own daughter dancing through her mind, she was writhing on the couch and bucking her hips before she'd even touched herself
down there.
She slid her hand under her panties.
When was the last time she'd been this
wet?
She was absolutely gushing down there, her petals slippery with her own nectar. Was this all because of the alcohol? It couldn't be. She'd tried masturbating while drunk before, and it had been disappointing and sloppy. Why did this feel so amazing?
Her body already knew the answer, of course.
Hazel, Hazel, Hazel.
The image of her towel-clad daughter swam in Mona's mind. She wished she'd been brave enough to just reach out and yank Hazel's towel away, to bare her slender body. Then she could caress it, pin her daughter against the bed, and...
Oh no.
This was going way too far! But, if it was just in her head, then it was okay, right? All she had to do was get this bizarre desire out of her system. She wasn't
really
defiling her daughter. All she was doing was thinking of Hazel's warm silky skin, the taste of her wet wriggling tongue, the feeling of her soft, petite bottom in Mona's hands...
"A-aaaah...~"
Mona arched her back. She groaned. This felt so good it almost
hurt.
Her cunt was gushing now. She slipped a finger up inside of herself, swirling it around. Why couldn't Hazel be with her right now? Mona wished she could grab her daughter, hold her close, kiss her again. She slid the fingers of her other hand into her mouth, twirling them against her tongue. She pretended it was Hazel's lips on her own, their tongues dancing together. But it wasn't the same. She needed the real thing. That couldn't have been their last kiss...
Mona stirred her pussy feverishly. Her panties were a sodden mess now, and she was dribbling down her thighs onto the couch. She was really going to cum! All while these shameless visions of Hazel burned in her mind.
"Aaaannn... a-ahhh... ahhhh--"
She was right at the peak of her pleasure when she heard the sound of flip-flops slapping against the walkway outside.
Mona's whole body clenched. Adrenaline flooded through her. She glanced desperately around the room for anything she could use to cover herself. Her eyes landed on the only thing nearby: the same towel that Hazel had been wearing earlier, now discarded on the floor. Mona grabbed it and wrapped it around herself just in time. It was slightly damp against her skin. And she couldn't help but think about how
this same towel
had just been caressing Hazel's naked body. She shivered. It was almost enough to send her over the edge.
But all her body's delights unraveled when the door opened and she found herself facing a very upset-looking Hazel. Her daughter strode into the room and kicked off her sandals. She looked like she was holding back tears. Mona didn't have to guess why. Guilt pressed into her chest and made her throat feel tight. Right now, two very powerful forces were warring inside her heart. There was that awful animal part of her, that sickening part that wanted to grab Hazel, to throw her against the couch and peel off that skimpy black dress from her skinny figure. Then they could live out all of Mona's fantasies.
Heat pulsed in Mona's crotch. Oh God, there really was a part of her that
wanted
that.
But no.
No.
This was her baby girl. Her precious Hazel. And she looked sad. Mona may have failed as a mother, forcing her daughter into a kiss because she was drunk and her body was confused. But she wasn't going to hurt Hazel again. Her daughter needed her. And Mona was going to help her, even if her body was screaming in agonized desire.
Mona fidgeted with the hem of her towel.
"H-hey, sweetie," she managed to choke out. Her own voice sounded breathless, like she'd just run a mile. She hoped it wasn't that obvious, what she'd just been doing.
Hazel walked into the living room. Her bare feet slapped against the tile floor, and then she stopped a few paces from Mona, hands folded over her chest. Hazel couldn't meet her mother's eyes. She frowned.
"Did you, um, forget something?" Mona asked.
For a long while, Hazel was silent.
"Mom?"
"Y-yes, sweetie?"
"Do you love me? I mean, you say you do. But do you really? Do you really, really love me?"
