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Copyright 2012, 2020 Lisa Summers

“Good morning, Christine,” I said, leaning on one elbow, my body artistically draped in wrinkled sheet.

She snuffled a little in her sleep, then one eye slowly opened. “Where am I – oh…yeah,” she replied, a slow smile dawning on her teenaged face. “You seduced me.”

“Hardly,” I said. “I guess we just wore each other out, huh?”

“Yeah, that’s about it,” she agreed. “Where’d you learn to tongue a clit so perfectly?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that many times in one night.”

“It must come naturally – if you’d run across me a week ago, I’m not sure I’d have been willing to, um, lick your pussy.”

“But, I’m very glad that I did,” I added hurriedly.

“Huh.” She looked annoyed.

“You act as though I’m easy,” Christine said, tossing her hair to the side. That kind of thing probably looks better in the commercials, after the model’s hair has been super treated to be *just so*, and float about like a wave in a dream. After sleeping on it all night, Christine’s hair just kind of flopped to one side.

“Why are you smiling?” Christine asked suspiciously.

“Nothing,” I said. “I think you’re beautiful.”

“Thanks, so are you,” she said. “So…I need a shower, point me…” She sat up, and the sheet fell charmingly to her waist, allowing me a lovely view of her small but fair breasts, tipped by small pink nipples. I felt a sweet stirring in my clit, and began to reach for her.

“Join me,” she said, reading my mind. Finding that to be a very good idea, I ran my fingers through my short, black hair and took her hand, two nude women off to have an adventure in the bathroom.

“Gotta pee,” Christine said, as I heard the toilet lid tap against the tank. “Get the water hot, okay? I won’t be long.” I turned to the shower stall and set the controls. I heard a hissing coming from her seat, and I thought about Beth on the toilet, and how erotic I had found that. Was I developing some kind of toilet fetish? And was peeing in front of other women some kind of lesbian thing? I wondered.

After about thirty seconds, Christine unashamedly raised herself up, then wiped with a few squares of tissue, turning to toss it into the bowl and watch it on its journey to, well, wherever. I watched her cute ass cheeks flex, then jiggle, and I was tempted to pat her rear.

“Why the hell not?” I asked myself, and did, enjoying the feel of her plump, round ass cheeks under my fingers.

“Mmm, feels nice,” Christine sighed, then took me into her arms, our naked bodies warm against each other. Her nipples were pointed, pressing into my breasts, her flat tummy occasionally touching against my slightly plumper one. Christine giggled.

“Your hair tickles my pussy,” she said, bereft as she was of any pubic hair to cushion herself. “Kinda scratchy.”

“Maybe I should shave mine,” I said.

“Maybe you should?” Christine returned. “We’ll use your razor.” She took my hand and drew me into the shower with her, steam billowing around us.

“Ah, lovely hot,” she sighed, melting again into me. I grabbed for the shampoo bottle.

“I’ve got to do my hair,” I explained, “or I don’t feel as though I’ve cleaned myself at all.”

I put a dollop on my scalp, and was just about to start massaging it in. “Let me,” Christine said coyly, “then you can do me.” She stood behind me, her fingers beginning to work a kind of magic on my scalp, working the lather in, but also working tension out of my scalp, as I felt it drain down my back along with the suds.

“Oh, Christine…that feels so good,” I moaned. Christine moved in closer behind me, her breasts pressing against my shoulder blades, her hands slipping down from my head, to the back of my neck, where she massaged tense muscles, then on to my shoulders and upper back and arms.

The pleasure of her familiarly intimate touch there, while not erotic, was one of the loveliest, sweetest pleasures I have ever experienced, and certainly on a par with some of my most memorable bed moments. I slid and writhed under her soapy, silky touch, her fingers gliding along my smooth flesh, caressing, touch, invading and ultimately taking ownership. I shuddered with pleasure, submitting to her touch.

I felt Christine’s breath race over my shoulder, then across my throat, under my chin, as she nuzzled me softly, her mouth on a most vulnerable spot, her lips on me, feeling my pulse with lips and tongue. My head leaned backwards, swiveling to allow her access to me, to any part of me, surrendering to her. She kissed me there, then nibbled lazily, a female lion with a gazelle between her jaws, choosing, for the moment, mercy.

Happily, then, she struck, her right hand slipping soapily over my hip, then down over my stomach, nails lightly scratching my vulnerable flesh, white streaks of terrified flesh like sexual contrails marking her passage. My hips and vulva involuntarily pushed out, anxious for her touch, my clit swelling with anticipation and desire, soft, mewing sounds from güvenilir bahis my throat guiding her.

One finger ran over exposed clitoris, and a gasp exploded from me, as a brilliant orgasm coursed through me in nano seconds, yet seemed to last for a pleasurable eternity. Hips shaking, I moaned, my mouth slack and open, her lips covering mine as we stretched into each other for fulfillment.

“Oh god, yes, yes, yessssssssss,” I hissed, my knees weak. The water continued streaming down our bodies, rivulets of silvery liquid joining and parting, taking their own course down cheeks, gamboling between breasts, gushing between thighs, joining the wetness already there, to splash to the tile below.

“Was it good, baby?” my teenaged lover asked unnecessarily, teasing me.

“Yes,” I gasped. “God, you really know how to take a shower!” Christine giggled.

“Eat me,” she commanded.

“What?” I asked, only a little surprised by the request, but confused by her tone.

“Eat my cunt, you fucking slut,” she ordered me, pressing on my shoulders until they actually hurt a little from the pressure. “Go on,” she added.

I got down on my knees, between her legs. I could feel a few stray needle-like streams of hot water hitting my scalp, but the bulk of the water hit her breasts, and coursed down her stomach, then channeled down between her thighs.

“The water…” I whined. She turned slightly so that the deluge ran down her hip instead.

“Now, lick pussy,” she ordered me again. I gazed at her pussy, a perfect depiction of a woman’s vulva. Perhaps I would have admired it even before I realized my attraction to other women, but in my evolved state it was a fascinating work of art, as well as a stimulant to my own lust. Her outer labia were plump and swelling with her excitement, blood filling her tissues, the lips turning a darker red from her normal, unremarkable pink.

The slit between, the pussy which brought me pleasure through its sweet, musky fragrance, salty taste, and enchantingly slick texture, was dark, a secret cavern entrance guarding the secret within. I caught a faint whiff of her, Christine’s special aroma that I fantasized she produced only for me, my mouth watering while my eyes feasted.

Above it all, a smooth pink, plain, extension of her lower belly, showing no evidence of the pubic bush that she had removed, excitingly exposing the jewel of her femininity, her clitoris. Her sweet, little pearl, so beautiful to my befuddled eyes, stood bravely alone, her clitoral hood retracted due to Christine’s anticipated pleasure. Small, nearly perfectly round, glistening with water and her body’s excitement, it gleamed in the shower’s light, a perfect jewel formed just for me to worship.

And worship it, and her, I did. I gently kissed her directly on her plumping little organ, similar to, but so much better than a male’s cock. She shivered, as ecstatic electricity began to make its way along every nerve extending from clitoris, through hips and thighs, to every other part of her delectable, young female body. I felt her hands caressing my wet hair, and gently urging me forward.

Her words followed. “Love me, Callie, kiss and adore me there, show me how you love my pussy, wet for your lips only, my clit, hard and swelling for your tongue only, my cream, hot and sweet, for your tongue only…” she moaned, her eyes closed, losing herself in her already building orgasm.

I moved my hands under her butt, as she slumped against the shower wall, her warm, full ass cheeks in my hands. I kneaded her soft flesh, her hips moving in slow circles as she floated into yet another pleasurable cum. To my tremendous surprise, I felt a spray of fluid from her vagina into my mouth and over my cheeks. I thought at first that she had peed I my face, and didn’t know what to make of that.

But contemporaneous with the hot spray of feminine, salty sweetness – and I DID taste it…and liked it – she screamed out her pleasure.

“God!! Fuck!! Oh shit, shit, SHIT!! Jesus, I’m cumming, Callie, fucking never so much like this, oh, oh, ohhhh!” Her words became garbled as she fell deeper into her mindless orgasm. I never felt prouder in my life. I held her up with my hands under her bottom (I REALLY didn’t mind feeling her hot ass!)

She was quiet, only moaning quietly, then opened her eyes and smile down at me as she bent down to lift me to my feet.

She kissed my cheek. “God, Callie! What the fuck did you DO?”

“What did I do? Beats me,” I said. Still proud, though, I said, “So…you liked it?”

“What do you think?” she laughed. “I’ve only squirted like that once before,” she said.

“What was that?” I asked. “Did you pee on me?”

“Did you like it?” she asked, looking at me slyly.

“Being peed on?” I hesitated. I didn’t want her to think I was perverted. “Well, I dunno…”

“You DID like it!” Christine exclaimed. “You lovely pervert! I WILL be peeing on you, then, and soon.” She had a twinkle in her eyes. “But anyway, that wasn’t pee.”

“It türkçe bahis wasn’t?” I asked.

“I don’t really know what it is, but the only other time it happened, I checked up on it on the Internet. Apparently it happens to women sometimes. All I know is, it happens to me when I have an uncontrollable orgasm – a really, really great one.”

“Is it like a guy’s cum?” I asked.

“I dunno,” Christine said. “I’ve never been interested in a guy, or his cum. Yuck.”

“It didn’t taste like a guy’s cum,” I said. “It was much better.”

“Oh, yuck,” Christine said again, as our nude bodies pressed together. “Forget about guys, Callie. Girls are lots more fun.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re right,” I said, smiling back at her.

“Hey…” Christine began. “Um, I’ve really had a good time – and I want to spend more time with you – but…do you think, um, maybe you could give me a ride home?”

“To your dorm? Of course,” I said.

“No, to my parents’ house. They live just a few miles from here.”

“Oh, sure,” I replied. “I’d be happy to.” Christine smiled.

“Oh good, thanks a lot! And…I guess we should finish our shower, huh?”

“I’m amazed that I haven’t run out of hot water,” I said.

Of course, with that jinx, the hot water DID run out, about thirty seconds later. We both giggled and shivered as we hurriedly finished our shower in cold water. Dressing and sneaking looks at each other’s body, we were soon ready to go.

Christine gave me directions as we drove along, and in the mean time we chatted about various things. But when we pulled onto one street, I had to say something.

“Uh, Christine…you live on this street?”

“Yes, why?

“Well…which is your house?

“This one…right here. You can pull into the driveway.”

“Um, this is Beth’s house.”

“Yes, you know my mom. You were with her at the coffee shop.” Christine smiled quizzically.

I was stunned. I had just fucked my lesbian lover’s daughter?

“Oh my god,” I thought to myself. “How the hell am I going to get out of this mess?”

“Come on in, okay?” Christine asked.

“Um, I don’t think I can. I’ve got this thing…”

“Oh, don’t be shy,” Christine said, tugging at my arm. “It’ll be okay.”

‘Okay’? I couldn’t see anything good happening when mother and daughter compared notes. But I reluctantly let her pull me along. I was going to have to face the situation eventually.

“…besides,” I heard Christine say, “my parents are both out of town, so we can be alone.”

Well, at least I wouldn’t have to face the music right now.

Of course, I was passingly familiar with the house, since Beth and I had fucked in Christine’s parents’ bedroom. When we entered, Christine immediately took me into her arms.

“I so want to fuck you in my bed, Callie, “she breathed into my ear. Her warm breath, and the urgency of her voice, made me use perhaps not my very best judgment. I was too bothered by the strange tickle in my clitoris that her voice and ways were causing, to think about being a little more cautious.

“I want you on your back, with your sweet legs spread, your pink little pussy wet and hot, glistening with your cream, as I tickle and tease your nipples with my teeth and tongue…does that sound nice?”

“Unnhh,” I moaned, already hungry for her body again.

“And you can fuck me in the bed I slept in as a little girl, your mouth on my clit, and your fingers inside me. I’m all wet for you…right now,” she moaned, taking my hand and bringing it down between her thighs, to her hot, moist center. I moaned agreement.

“Ohhh, I do want you,” I confessed.

“Do you want to taste me?” she teased. “And do you want me to taste you…my tongue slipping around your hot little clit?”

“Ohhhhh,” I moaned helpless now. “Yessss.”

Christine took me by the hand, as though leading a child to bedtime, and we mounted the stairs, each familiar step a ringing peal from the melody I sang with Beth that even now echoed inside of me. We passed by the master bedroom, where Beth and I had feasted on each other’s feminine banquet, exchanging fluids in the most delightful of ways. I felt a small pang of guilt, but more deeply, an apprehension at how my inability to resist mother or daughter might turn out.

We entered a sweetly feminine and frilly girl’s bedroom, color tones of pink and white predominating.

“This is me, at least as I grew up,” Christine spoke up, shyly. As she turned to look at me, I saw that she was revealing to me a part of herself that few others saw. The sweet little girl, playing with Barbie, then American Girls, but finally, finally moving on to the real thing, and becoming a woman.

“This is so…sweet,” I said. “I wish I had had a little girl to love, and raise – it just never happened for me.”

Christine walked into my embrace. “It’s not too late for you, you are still young enough…” she ventured. I nodded slowly.

“Yeah,” I said. “But honestly…the güvenilir bahis siteleri LAST thing I want inside me now is some guy’s cock!”

Christine laughed. “Yeah, I get that – me, too. But, you know, you could meet some nice girl” – she paused – “settle down, get impregnated – you know – and have all the babies you want…”

I looked at her, and didn’t say anything. She picked up on my silence.

“I’m sorry, I guess you need ‘some nice girl’ before that happens, huh?” She brought her lips to mine, and we kissed the sweetest kiss in the history of couples. It seemed to go on forever, and I hoped that it would.

“I don’t know what I can, or will, be for you,” she whispered. “But let me be your lover now, okay?”

“Yes, I’d like that. I’d really like that,” I responded, anxious now for both her comfort and the excitement that she could provide for me. We cuddled inside each other’s embrace, and stroking arms grew into caressing hips, then pressing and squeezing as stray ribbons of electric pleasure coursed through both of us. Breathing grew more rapid and shallow, need grew inside us, making us less smooth in our movements, hunger and desire jerking us into rougher touch.

Her hands on my breasts, unconsciously cruel as nipples tightened under her pressure, sweet twin pain. My hand pressing, digging, squezing in the dark tropical rift between her thighs, to be inside her my wish, and my goal.

Before any thought, came the savage ripping off clothes, blouses, jeans, bra, two sweet pairs of panties with wet spots tangled on our feet. Giggling as we nearly tripped to get them off, leaning on each other, finally sopping, fragrant scraps of cotton tossed, one to land on a lamp, the other half on, half off a convenient bed.

“What a sweet bed,” I gasped.

“Yeah, let’s fuck on it,” she gasped back, her crudeness exciting and desirable, and kind of funny. I giggled. We fell on it, on my back, she on top, straddling me, her body warm, smooth, smelling so good to me.

She scissored me, the thing she had taught me before, but slowly, slowly, softly, barely touching, labia whispering against pussy lips, tease, touch, feathery near contact, the closest that two women could ever be without touching and always, always sweet almost-touch, heat of one into the heat of other, moisture shared and savored. Hands on other hips guiding movement. Now, closer, closer, closest, touching, ahhhh sweet soft release, not cum, not cum, but close. Sighs, gasps, sweetness of body touch and sweetness of woman and woman.

Fluid dripping from dark slit onto dark slit, then to lowered thigh, slick, shiny trail of female excitement, rain drops running down a window pane, ethereal, ineffable beauty of water colors. Soft musical clouds of sighs, whispers, gasps not words, no words, only the beauty of love to love.

Temperatures rising, global warming of two bodies, heat, tension, excitement, all increasing beyond control. Need rising, desire advancing, ecstasy in sight, the two as one pound harder against each other, hips pounding into hips as labia press and bend under increasing pressure, until finally, finally, finally clitoris explodes into clitoris, bright colors, ethereal music, sweetness of fragrance, all senses becoming the same, all pleasure, all pleasure, overload to black.

We both faded out, then back to consciousness, still in each other’s arms, still with our wet pussies touching. I shivered at the memory of the experience, shadows of orgasmic echoes delighting me, as Christine smiled at me, then kissed me familiarly.

“God, you’re great,” she said, her voice cracking slightly at one point. We both giggled.

“I guess I must be,” I said, and we laughed again.

“You know…” Christine began, then stopped.

“Yes?” I responded, curious at her pause.

“I would so adore if you would, you know, lick me?”

“God, yes,” I said. “But you don’t have to ask, eating your pussy is fantastic. I love your taste and fragrance.” Christine smiled.

“Oh, great,” she said. “Here, let me arrange myself.” She propped some pillows up against the headboard so that she was sitting up, and brought her legs up in the classic ‘stirrup’ position.

“Okay, that’s a little different,” I said. “But, god, you look so hot and available!”

“Yeah,” she said. I crawled between her legs on my stomach, my face inches from her sweet little cunt, so hot and wet from our lovemaking, then decided that I’d be a little more comfortable on my hands and knees, with my ass up in the air.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Christine commented. I thought that was a little odd, because I hadn’t started eating her hole yet. But I thought little of it, and focused on the pleasurable task at hand.

I started kissing and licking her thighs, so close to her bald little pussy, her skin smooth and sweet, hot and damp, then worked closer to her lips and slit itself. Christine hooked her feet under my arms, and cradled my head, fingers running through my hair as I caressed her vulva.

To my shock, I felt a weight behind me depress the mattress, Beth’s voice saying, “Hello, darling,” along with Christine responding, “Hi, Mommy.” Then Beth saying, “Oh Callie, you look SO adorable like that. Do you mind if I join you two?”

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