Author's note: Well here it is at last. I got a bit of a writer's block doing and this one because I'm not a huge lesbian myself. I didn't really know all that well how to write the scenes only ever trying it with another woman once. Anyway I hope that it is well enough because it's more of a transition for what is to come. This is far from the end, but it may be the last one in Lily's perspective. The fourth is in the perspective of the middle sister Rosa, so get ready for that one. Well thanks for waiting this long if you did, and if you didn't then I can't really say I blame you. Thanks, Lovefreely
*****
Marie and I stared at each other while Jamie continued giving it to me right in my ass. I tried to get him to stop without just coming out and saying it, but he took that as initiative to go faster until eventually I came again.
I dug my nails into his thigh, "Ow mom that hurt," he said.
"Oh my god," Marie croaked.
"What the . . . oh shit," Jamie said.
Marie ran out of the room, but not out of the house.
I pulled Jamie out dripping with his precum. I wiped up a bit and pulled on my robe. I walked slowly out the front room where Marie was sitting in a cute troubled little ball on the sofa. She didn't wear the scared, scarred, or vacant expressions I expected. She looked like her boyfriend had just broken up with her. Huh, now that I thought of it Marie never had a boyfriend that I knew of. Maybe she was as sick and twisted as I was and was holding out for Jamie.
Maybe I was just being paranoid. I went the liquor cabinet and grabbed the Blue Label Scotch and two glasses. I sat on the couch and poured a very unhealthy amount into both glasses. I took mine and offered her the other. Marie took it slowly and downed half the glass in one gulp. Her eyes opened wide for a moment, "That's good," she mumbled.
I followed her example and drank heavily. The smooth liquor glided down my throat like warm honey water. "Marie, I'm sorry," I said lacking the ability to think of anything better to say.
She chuckled darkly, "It's funny because you don't even know what you're sorry for," she said drained her glass.
"What are you talking about?" I asked.
"Have you ever wondered why I never had any boyfriends in high school or college?"
"I have thought about that actually, but I wonder if my suspicion is true."
"Let's hear your theory," she said darkly.
"I don't . . . I don't think it's true anymore," I said nervously.
"Let me guess, you thought I was hot for Jamie too right?"
I nodded guiltily feeling like a moron for even thinking it. "It wasn't that. I never wanted a boyfriend or a husband. I did think that maybe family would understand, but Jamie was never even a possibility," she said tears slowly forming in her eyes.
I hit me like a bullet in the heart. She didn't want Jamie or any man for that matter . . . she wanted a woman.
"Oh Marie I'm so sorry. Why didn't you ever tell me?" I asked
"The same reason you didn't tell anyone about Jamie. The reason you didn't know what to be sorry about." Marie slid closer to me until our thighs were touching. "It's hard for people to earn my trust you know, but . . . I trust," she started to say.
"What is it baby you can tell me," I reassured her.
Out of nowhere she kissed me very gently on the lips and pulled back less than an inch. Our faces were practically touching; I could even smell her peach scented conditioner. My head was reeling. I was a self-proclaimed bisexual because I experimented with a woman once and it was very enjoyable, but it never really held the toe crunching release that a man could give. My own daughter though? I mean sure I fucked my own son, but I've been secretly dreaming about that for years. Marie was always a sweet little angel, the very image of innocence. Her short hair is even arranged in a spiky halo around her neck.
"I trust you the most," she whispered against my lips. She smelled like fresh water and whiskey; it was intoxicating. "What killed me was finding you with Jamie when I was secretly hoping that when dad left that maybe you would choose women instead," she whimpered.
I wrapped my arms delicately around her shoulders and she rested her head against my breast. Marie put her little hand on my robe and I willed myself to wonder what hands like hers would feel on my skin. Marie wasn't the laboring type like Jamie was, she studied court reporting so her hands were strong, but she was a religious moisturizer. I took her hand and slid it under my robe to hold my breast. It felt like I was being brushed by smooth cool silk.
Marie gasped and looked at me with wide bloodshot eyes. I looked at her beckoning and she took the hint and lifted my breast into circles. No one could ever say that I put my happiness before that of my children. She smiled and blood filled her golden cheeks.
"Oh you kept in good shape," she said.
"That's pretty rich coming from you miss D cup."
Marie giggled and pulled her hand back. "Our family is so fucked up," she said.
It sounded strange to hear expletives on her pure lips. I pulled her face to mine and kissed her smooth lips again, but more skillfully. She wasn't hesitant anymore, so I parted our lips and dove my tongue into her soft sweet mouth. Admittedly it was really nice to kiss Marie, it was like kissing an angel. Something in her changed because she grabbed strands of my hair in her hands and sat on my lap facing me. She sucked on my lower lip and made swirls on my mouth with her tongue. I could feel my recently widened pussy getting wet again.
She pulled back for a second to stare deeply into my eyes. The passion that burned in her emerald eyes made me proud to have instilled that in her and the fact that she saved it all for me made me feel smug. We smiled at each other for a moment and giggled together. The absurdity of the situation was insane, but I really didn't care and something told me she didn't either.
"We should probably fill Jamie in," I said.
She looked apprehensive about the thought of Jamie. "Don't worry it's Jamie, he'll understand," I said. She nodded and forced a little smile out. I walked to the bedroom and found Jamie dressed sitting on the edge of the bed.
