Mothers Best Friend Is A Lesbian

Mother's best friend is a lesbian

Seduced

Robin was really a cute guy and I got on really well with him. He took care of me, studied with me and carried me on his hands. He could be affectionate and super funny, and we spent a lot of time together during the summer semester. We both studied pedagogy in the same year and saw each other almost every day. Sometimes he stayed overnight with me in my little one-room apartment because he lived with two friends in a shared apartment and I didn't want to spend the night there. They also had constant visitors and Robin said that it's going on in their flat like in a brothel. You could hear the girls moaning, and sometimes you met completely strangers at breakfast.

I didn't like that, so I allowed him to stay with me if we wanted to get intimate. In other words, that's what he actually wanted, because I didn't care much about sex. It has always been like that. My first friend didn't even notice he was deflowering me, he was so busy with himself. He also didn't notice that he hurt me a little, and that of course I hadn't had an orgasm. He just asked: "How was I?"

What should I say? I had zero possibilities for comparison, but while I said: "Great", I thought to myself: "Well, hopefully that wasn't all!"

It didn't get much better, however. My next two lovers had better control of themselves, but nothing more than in-out and cum shot wasn't going on either. Both relationships ultimately failed somehow because of sex. One demanded that I swallow after blowing, which I did for his sake. I really didn't want that, I was disgusted by the sticky stuff, and I was always careful to close my mouth before he started to ejaculate.

This annoyed him so much that he tried to force me once by holding my head down firmly on the tail while he started. I had to pinch his balls to get off, and so I escaped the fountains just in time, which, however, smacked on the cheeks and in one eye. After this event, we broke up.

The second wasn't that much into oral sex, but he was really into my bum. I understood that, because it is gorgeous - spherical and also quite big, which went well with the rest of the very round figure. My tits are also pretty big and despite my very narrow waist I have wide hips. The guy liked that, and he could caress my butt for hours, and I didn't mind if he kissed and even licked him. But, and that was a no-go, I didn't let myself be fucked back there. I didn't even allow him to stick his finger in. That made him so angry that one night he almost tried to beat me -- that was it.

Well, and then Robin came along, and he was really considerate during sex, caring about me and trying to make it nice for me too. Because of him, I even took the pill so that he could come comfortably and not have to use such a disgusting condom.

Sometimes, when he licked my cunt, I also felt something like a wild excitement, but I can't say that it would have particularly impressed me. If I really wanted to come right, I did it myself, and I did that a lot. It was enough to tinker with the clitoris with two fingers, and I got a great orgasm. Much nicer than with the guys.

So I avoided taking Robin over too often and was actually quite happy when the summer vacation began. He was planning a road trip through the US with two friends and would be away for at least two months. I just wanted to go home to my mother.

We lived in a small village in Saxony-Anhalt, not far from Dessau, in the middle of the pine forests, where the fox and the rabbit say "good night".

My father had left us a long time ago when I was just four years old and ran away with another woman. Mother had never heard from him again and raised me with the help of my grandparents. They lived in the same village, and I was looking forward to meeting them too.

Mama was waiting for me at the train station in Dessau, and you couldn't believe that she had a daughter of twenty-two. She looked more like my older sister than a woman in her forties.

After a big hug, she grabbed a suitcase, and we dragged the things to her ancient golf. As soon as she got in the car, she just gushed out: "Sophie, I have such a great surprise, I can't wait any longer!"

I looked at her a little startled: "What for heaven's sake? Do you have a boyfriend?"

That would really have been one. As long as I could remember, mother was alone or hid her love affairs so perfectly from me that I didn't notice.

She laughed and shook her head: "No, we're going to Marina!"

"What? When? To Italy?"

"Yes, imagine, she invited us next week, and we can stay as long as we want!"

"Crazy, but how long you can?"

"Three weeks, I've already spoken to Winfried (her boss, the only grocer in the village), he gives me my leave. He said that everyone would fly out during summer anyway, so he could manage a time with the apprentice!"

I was so happy -- Marina was mother's oldest friend, and they were practically inseparable, especially in the years after my father had left us. She lived a few houses away and worked as a sculptor -- self-taught. She had never attended college or took any courses. Not only that, but she was just a natural talent and made the greatest works of art out of wood and metal and above all -- she also sold them well.

Over time, she had gotten rich and two years ago she moved to Italy, very far south, to Calabria, where she bought a house and continued to work there.

Once a year she came for a month, mostly for Christmas, and then she stayed with us. That was the time when mom blossomed. You could really see how good it was to have Marina around her. She enjoyed being able to pour out her heart to someone, fooling around, drinking a little bit and just having fun. Otherwise, she lived a pretty boring life, ever since I wasn't home either. That's why she was so excited.

I also was happy, because Marina had always been a reference person for me, to whom I entrusted one thing or another that was not necessarily intended for my mother's ears.

My grandparents greeted me warmly as always, although I noticed how old they had gotten. If you saw them every day, you didn't notice it, but now I had been away for three months, and it was almost a shock to see how slim Grandpa looked and how his shoulders hung. Grandma also looked haggard and limped a little.

"What about your leg?", I asked her after the hug, and she made a disparaging gesture: "Oh, the ankle is probably a little swollen, nothing bad!"

"Let's see!" mother said, but grandma waved her off: "No, no, now we will eat first. I cooked cabbage rolls!"

With that the subject was off the table and when we got home tired, we sat down on the terrace a little longer and made plans. Mother had already ordered the tickets, Marina would pick us up at the airport in Reggio and "... then it's about an hour to her house!"

I couldn't wait to see the small Marina estate live. We already knew it from pictures and videos and also knew that it was right by the sea, only a five-minute walk from the beach.

The next day we went shopping, bathing suits, sun lotion and whatever else we needed and drove over to the grandparents' house to show off our treasures.

There we found Grandma on the couch, pale and with a fearful face. Grandpa stood next to her, perplexed and worried.

I also was happy, because Marina had always been a reference person for me, to whom I entrusted one thing or another that was not necessarily intended for my mother's ears.

My grandparents greeted me warmly as always, although I noticed how old they had gotten. If you saw them every day, you didn't notice it, but now I had been away for three months, and it was almost a shock to see how slim Grandpa looked and how his shoulders hung. Grandma also looked haggard and limped a little.

"What's happening?"

"Oh, the leg is really swollen, I don't know what's going on!"

Our hearts almost stopped when she showed us the calf -- dark red, swollen and hot.

"Mother, that's a thrombosis, one hundred percent. Come on, call the ambulance immediately!"

No sooner said than done, the emergency doctor confirmed the diagnosis and off they went to the hospital. I stayed with grandfather, mom followed.

When she got home that evening, she looked exhausted and desperate.

"That was close! It's a clot in a large vein, if it loosens uncontrollably, she dies!"

"And what happens now?"

"Well, at least ten days in hospital and then at home extreme care!"

Despite the horror and pity for my grandma, I slipped out: "Shit, goodbye Italy!"

Mother let herself fall on the couch and sighed: "Yes, for me, but you will fly!"

"It's out of the question! We can postpone it! "

"No we can not! Winfried planned everything that way and goes on vacation himself after the three weeks. I can't ask that of him! "

"Then I'll stay with you!"

"Don't be childish! You'll go! Maybe I can come for a few more days!"

"How come? You can't leave them alone! "

"Who said that?", Grandpa said. Once she's at home, I'll take care of her! "

"We'll see all of that. Anyway, you, Sophie, are flying!"

******

It wasn't the last discussion, of course, but when it finally became clear that Grandma was safe and Marina was talking to me via Skype, I gave up. So I said goodbye to mom at the train station with tears in my eyes and 24 hours later I fell into the arms of my hostess.

She smelled of the sea and herbs and looked great. Her long, black hair was tied into a thick horse tail that fell over her right shoulder. The tight jeans and the red top emphasized her very feminine figure. In contrast to my mother, she had really sharp curves, and they also seemed very tight. It was probably from the hard work and swimming that she had always done. As a girl and young woman, she even swam in the river Elbe and crossed it, which was totally forbidden.

The only tribute to her art were the worn hands that felt like sandpaper. The fingernails were cut short and of course not painted, but she worked manually and that was part of it.

In her deep voice she asked: "Well, was your mother sad?"

"Yes, of course, and so am I!"

"Well, do you think I don't? But from now on we only think of ourselves and enjoy the time, okay?"

She took the baggage cart and pushed it in front of her to the exit, so fast that I could hardly follow her in the crowd of tourists and chattering locals.

She stopped in front of a sleek SUV. "Look, I bought that. It's super practical and so nice to show off in the village!"

Laughing, she stowed the luggage in the spacious interior and then drove off. Apparently she had quickly got used to the driving style of the Italians, because she really hissed, changed lanes, honked, cursed and made obscene hand movements. I couldn't stop laughing, and the journey flew by.

We slowly crossed the idyllic village, every now and then she waved to someone and when we drove past a small café on the village square, she honked three times vigorously. The guests turned to us, shouted, waved and laughed.

"Well, you don't exactly seem unpopular!" I stated, and she nodded with a grin: "Yes, yes, they are proud of their artist and one or two donations to the community also help, of course. The people are poor here, but happy. You see, sunshine every day, everything is blooming and thriving, a land of milk and honey. If it weren't politicians and the N'drangheta, it would be even more beautiful, but there is no light without shadow! "

At the end of the village the path rose a little, the road narrowed, and the asphalt gave way to fine-grain gravel. Suddenly Marina turned right, we crossed a small pine forest and then -- then I let out a scream, incredulous and totally surprised.

A meadow opened up in front of us, at the end of which was the little house, and behind it, less than five hundred meters away, a little deeper, was the sea, blue and almost like a fairy tale with the small, white whitecaps.

"Crazy, I can't believe it!"

Laughing, she parked the car on a gravel-covered forecourt and said: "Welcome to my kingdom, it's nice that you are here!"

As soon as I got out of the car, I fell around her neck: "Thank you, thank you for inviting me. Wow, it's soooo great here!"

We hugged very tightly, and she pressed a kiss on my cheek, touching the corner of my mouth a little, where I could feel her soft, warm lips.

"Come on!", she shouted and let go of me, "I'll show you the inner courtyard, but we'll take the luggage with us right away!"

Each with a suitcase in hand, we circled the clay-colored house with the red roof and for the second time I thought I had to freak out.

The courtyard was only open to the front; the other side was bounded by the house, from which one stepped through a door hung with colored ribbons, to the right and left by a wall that was taller than a man. Blooming oleander bushes in huge pots, various herbs such as basil and rosemary and all sorts of other plants covered them halfway and in front you could see the sea, to which you could walk over a narrow footpath lined with shrubs and individual pines.

On the wall of the house under a vine arbor there was a comfortable suite with a wide couch, which was ideal for a siesta, with two armchairs and a table in the middle, all made of rattan. The seating furniture was covered with thick blankets, which you could easily remove when it rained.

The main part of the courtyard, however, was an open-air studio and exhibition space in one.

Her sculptures were scattered around here, all kinds of surrealistic things that I had nothing to do with, but also statues of women, children, old men, mostly carved out of wood and in all sizes.

Although it seemed so jumbled, it still seemed harmonious and as if she had arranged it with a lot of forethought.

Right at the front, towards the sea, was her workplace -- a half-finished marble sculpture stood in the midst of crumbled pieces, white dust and various tools that she left lying around carelessly.

I quickly took a few photos, which I sent to mom with the accompanying text that I had arrived safely.

"Enjoy it, honey!", the answer came and "I'm with Grandma in the hospital. She's feeling better!"

"So, come inside!"

You got directly into the main room -- kitchen and living room at the same time. The walls were low, the furnishings cozy, and much of it was old if not antique. The remainder of the first floor was taken up by a bedroom, bathroom, and pantry. Above, accessible via a narrow staircase, was the studio, brightly lit by a later built-in, sea-side window.

Here she painted, but a few half-finished wooden figures indicated that during the cool season she was probably also carving in this beautiful work space.

She pointed to a couch on the back wall: "This is where I sleep, you can take the bed downstairs, that's how I planned it anyway!"

"No, that's out of question. You sleep downstairs too, we will probably have space for two. Otherwise, I'll take this. I don't want to drive you out of your bed!"

She didn't really resist, smiled and said: "Well, I don't snore either, and you can't sleep here, the smell of varnish takes getting used to!"

That was true, and so I was glad that we had come to an agreement quickly.

"I suggest you shower first, and I'll make something to eat in the meantime. You're maybe dying of hunger!"

She was right about that. Thankfully I fished my cosmetic bag out of one of the suitcases and disappeared into the bathroom.

"Take a towel from the shelf!", she called, and then I was already naked and enjoyed the warm jet of water.

Of course, I hadn't taken any clothes into the bathroom, so I wrapped myself in the bath towel and followed the smell of fresh vegetables and pasta into the kitchen.

In the meantime, Marina had wrapped herself in a brightly colored beach towel. Knotted at the front over the bosom, it reached halfway down the sun-tanned calves.

"Shall we go swimming later?", I asked, and she nodded: "Sure, you can put on a bikini!"

"Ok!" I escaped and slipped into the new two-piece. Mother had wrinkled her nose a little when I picked it because it was really hot. The top showed a lot of the breasts, at least more than just the base, and the panties, a thong - my first by the way - showed quite openly what sexy buttocks I had. The string only emerged high up from the crack between the cheeks and ended in a tiny triangle that covered the base of the bottom. The front was cut so small that I had to shave every day. I didn't want the fluff to be seen growing up from the mound and the scrap of fabric didn't hide much more. It was dark red and stood out against the -- still -- pale skin. I turned in front of the mirror and was pleased with the way I looked.

"Wow!", Marina whistled through her teeth when I appeared in the courtyard, where she was setting the table. "You are a hot bitch! Let yourself be seen! "

She took my hand and turned me in circles. When I turned my back on her, she gave me a pat on the bottom and said softly: "The guys have to queue up for you, I guess. Do you actually have a lover? "

I sat down and shrugged my shoulders: "Yes, yes, but he's in America right now, road trip with a friend!"

"What an idiot!"

"No, no, it's okay. I sometimes like to be alone!"

"Well, that doesn't sound like great love!"

"Nah, it isn't either. I don't know what's wrong with me, but I haven't found the right one yet! "

She stroked my cheek: "It'll be fine, my darling! And now let's eat. Today there is spaghetti, to get used to! "

"Super!"

The good food, the warm wind from the sea, the glass of red wine, the long journey -- all of this made me so tired that I actually made myself comfortable on the rattan couch after washing the dishes. It took less than five minutes until I fell asleep, and I probably wouldn't have woken up before morning had Marina not gently woken me up by shaking my shoulder.

"Sophie, if you still want to swim, we should go, the sun is already disappearing!"

Startled, I straightened up: "Oh, what time is it? How long did I sleep?"

"Well, two hours for sure, at least it's seven o'clock!"

"Wow, let's go then!" I jumped up refreshed, and she laughed: "Ok, I'll get us towels quickly!"

*****

It smelled of the sea, dry grass, pine trees and salt. The sun was a red disk on the horizon and bathed the water in a warm light. It was very quiet, no waves, no wind.

We hiked the narrow path and when we got to the beach, we put the towels in the sand. Marina looked around: "No one to be seen! We can bathe naked there! Doesn't that bother you?"

I shook my head. I was not prude and topless I had already seen her a couple of times when she stayed with us. Below, however, she always wore panties and so it was the first time for me when she unbuttoned the beach towel and let it fall. She hadn't had anything under it the whole time and I hadn't noticed. Her heavy breasts looked just amazing, firm and taut with large yards and thick nipples.

Involuntarily I stared into her crotch -- a tightly trimmed dark triangle covered her pubic area and the incipient crevice. She also eyed me when I took off the bikini and said softly: "My God, what are you beautiful!"

I laughed: "I would be happy if I still looked like you at forty. How do you do that?"

"Swim a lot!" She shouted, grabbed my hand and ran into the water with me. It was warm and splashed as we ran into it with great strides until it got too deep. We splashed around like crazy, splashed each other and had a lot of fun.

I had turned around and was shoveling water backwards, really hard and a lot. Suddenly she grabbed my hands, pulled me up and pressed me to her. I felt her nipples on my back and her breath as she pressed her cheek to mine and said, "Off, off, let's swim!"

Actually, I thought she was about to let go of me, but she continued to hold me tight, snuggled into me and breathed heavily. I let it happen because it was pleasant and strangely intimate. A strange feeling crept into me, but before I could define it the moment was over, she pushed me away and then we swam out to sea with strong pulls. It was lovely and just the thing after this long day.