Mummy Cant Resist

The story below is narrated in the 3rd person, referring to a sexually frustrated and lesbian curious mother ("she"/"her"). Curiosity leads to a reluctant oral tryst with a gothic lesbian 18 year old.

Please enjoy.

* * *

Her daughter had entered the final year of schooling. A new phase of life lay ahead. Yes her 2 boys were going to be in high school for a few more years, but the end of this year would bring about a change in the family dynamic, a change in her mothering requirements... more freedom. And, it scared her.

At 47, she was experiencing a wave of suppressed emotions. She had been able to press these feelings down in years gone by. She had made herself busy. She had nurtured, not just the children, but him too. It had gotten tedious. He was boring. She felt disappointed. Was this all?

In December, she had stumbled upon a magazine amongst her daughter's things. Clothing, lipsticks, eyeliners, schoolbooks... and that particular magazine.

At first she had ignored it, almost. Tidied up. Neatened. Cleaned. But a look on the cover page, in the eyes of that picture, had caught her. It said more than the usual sell, "I am happy", or, "Look at me! I am successful", or, "I am better than you." All the stuff that she had absorbed year in year out, in Elle, in Cosmo, and the rest of that overplayed "Don't you wish you were me" set.

No, this look was sultry, self involved, physical. But also, it was inviting. It said, "be a voyeur on my account." It said, "Lust after me." It said, "You are permitted."

She experienced in that moment a thrill she recalled when sitting in his car, at the drive-in, 30 years ago. The smell of his cologne, the smell of the leather, and the smell of his cock – her first. She

had

been alive. She

had

been wet. Life

had

been full of newness, and innocence, and promise.

She looked at the magazine. Opened it up, paged through. Pictures of women embracing. Disrobing. Touching each other...

there

. She felt heat in her skin. She felt her cheeks flush. She felt her nipples harden, almost painfully at her blouse. Could she be alive again?

* * *

So, this was to be the last sleep over. 10 girls, quite grown up now, but visiting for a sleep over tonight. Just like the old days. A pajama party, frolicking around in undies, swimming, eating popcorn.

But now they were all 18 year olds. Her daughter, who had been the youngest of that group, was now of age. No doubt they would be locking themselves away, playing, chatting, smoking, drinking... well they were young and life was fun, and she wouldn't spoil it – let them be!

He was oblivious anyway. Caught up in his work or his television, or the car he had just bought for their 'little' girl's 18th.

She tried to lay low, not to be seen or heard around the girls. She wanted them to have their fun. But she was curious. Did her daughter's friends have magazines like that one? Did they watch these things on the internet?

She wondered. Was her daughter interested in boys too? It didn't bother her, she remembered her first kiss, and that was with a girl. They had practiced. Nothing came of it. And then she was in college and she met him, and boys became interesting. Well, one boy. The excitement had waned. 30 years will do that.

She locked herself in the bathroom. This was her haven, en-suite, bidet, pearl shaped bath, double shower... she couldn't really fault him. She sat on the loo. She felt the hot piss jet out.

She sat still after. Didn't wipe. Just conjured images. Saw that look. The acts those girls performed in that magazine. Kissing deeply. Licking nipples. And oh, the other things they had gotten up to. Shocking! But it made her wet. She wanted to try it, desperately. To taste another woman. To put her mouth

there

. Oh yes! To lick and to suck and to indulge. Oh dear, and that other ghastly thing!

She sat still. She moved the palm of her hand over her hairy bush. She never trimmed. She felt her way about the lips, fingering gently through the flesh. She mixed her thin and translucent piss all over her cunt. She felt the rush of her sex come forth, the viscosity of her moisture thickening, the smell of her wetness changing. More cunt. Less piss.

She masturbated, conjuring images of those girls, not 20 years old or more. She imagined herself performing those acts, having them performed on her. She felt it rising, but she never came, just brought herself on to a point of goodness, then let it fall slowly, rubbing gently, sighing, opening her eyes.

* * *

In the morning 8 of the girls had gone to the Mall. 2 remained behind, sleeping off last night's party. They hadn't been too noisy, but were probably up until the very early hours.

She decided to check in. See if her daughter was there. Her daughter wasn't. On opening the door to her room, she noticed 2 girls. One, a conservative girl, worked at the library part time. The other, very odd, dressed in gothic black clothing, with studs in her eyebrows and a pin in her tongue. She was sleeping in her boots. Heavens. She wondered how these 2 had been invited in the first place.

Before closing the door she bent down to tidy. She noticed the librarian. A thin sheet covered one leg. The other leg slipped out over the makeshift floor mattress. She caught a glimpse of upper thigh. It excited her. She knew she shouldn't, but she looked more closely. She dragged the sheet down a little, exposing a very full ass.

The young girl's panties were baggy. She could make out the flesh near her pussy, and it appeared very hairy. She wanted to pull the panties down, look at her sex. But it was too risky. Still, if she leaned closer she might be able to smell it, get a scent and then quickly go to her bathroom. She was very excited now.

She leaned in, ever so quietly. She closed her eyes. She breathed. Yes, there it was. The aroma of a young cunt. It was heady, musky. It wasn't really like hers. This girl's scent was saltier, thicker. She leaned a little closer, seeking out the scent even more keenly...

A husky voice whispered in her ear, "Go on, pull them down an' lick her".

Oh God! She startled, lost her balance and lightly touched the librarian on the thigh. She looked back. Goth girl was smiling at her. A wry, taunting smile, that said, "I know your secret."

"You... uh... startled me."

"Go on dykie, give her a lick, I won't tell."

"Shhhhhh... don't wake her. I was... I... I was just cleaning up..."

She looked at Goth girl, searching for some help, hoping she'd convinced her, or at least appealed to a sense of pity.

"Cleaning up... ye rite..." Goth girl chuckled.

The librarian started to rouse and looked back, "What's going on?"

"Nothing dear, just picking up some clothes, go back to sleep."

The librarian turned and tried to dose off again.

Goth girl was beaming. You could sense the stale smell of pot on her. Unkempt hair, good lord, did she ever bathe?

Goth girl looked at her, and silently mouthed. "YOU'RE A FUCKING DYKIE, AIN'T YA?"

"Wh..." she stopped herself. Made sure to whisper. Flush and panicked, she managed to get a sentence out, while looking away, pretending to be mummy again, "I... I don't know what you're talking about. I... I'm just making things tidy and then I shall put out some breakf..."

"Yea rite!" Goth girl interjected

The librarian sighed in frustration, sleep interrupted again, got up, looking at no one, rubbed her eyes, and ambled to the door, "...I'm taking a shower."

Mummy was still looking down, trying to make the most of a very bad situation. She thought it out. She was just clearing the room, would air it and make breakfast. She was perfectly innocent, and stuck by it in her mind.

She felt Goth girl at her ear. She smelt her odour, her hot ugly breath, the smoke in her clothing. "It's ok, I won't tell".

She turned. Goth girl was right on top of her. Their eyes met. Goth girl penetrated her gaze, trapped her eyes, and once there, looked straight down, "See this."

Her eyes followed Goth girl's. The leather-clad freak had pulled her jeans down, exposing hers thick, jet-black and furry puss. "Suck my cunt dykie!"

She was horrified. The language! The gall of it!

She wanted to resist. She wished she had never entered the room. And now she was in a catch 22. If she refused, an opportunity lost. If she obeyed, oh God! Either way Goth girl had found her out.

"I... I..." she tried to say something, anything.

Goth girl looked straight into her eyes, "Shhhhh, there there..."

Goth girl slipped 2 fingers in the heavy Goth bush and brought them up to her nose, "Here, smell me."

She smelt it. It was disgusting. She was very wet now. Goth girl pushed the 2 nicotine stained fingers into her mouth. Then put a hand on the back of her head, and pushed her down. She lowered, slowly, acceding to the pressure of her tormentor. She was kneeling, in front of a very black vagina.

Goth girl gave one final push at the back of her head. She closed her eyes and smelt, tasted, licked. "Suck me dykie whore!" She sucked. "Lick my fat lips you slut!" She licked. "Kiss my cunt you pervert!" She kissed.

Goth girl then pulled on her hair in order to establish complete control. "Hold still!" Goth girl swayed and bucked and fucked her mouth. She tasted the earthy, salty, bitter juice. "Eat my cum! Eat it! Eat it, ye...."

Goth girl pulled away and unleashed her grip.

She fell to the floor. Her knees were numb from the position in which she had fellated this tyrant. Her own puss was soaking. She was exhausted, out of breath. At once she got up, and ran to her bathroom.

* * *

It had been 2 weeks since the incident. Thankfully Goth girl had said nothing. It was all over. A terrible mistake, but she felt forgiven. The many nights of masturbating to the memory of that event were hopefully over. She had returned to baking pies, and taking the kids to soccer practice, to being mummy.

She stopped in at the community center. She had some old clothes to donate. Then she passed by the library, to return a few books. As she entered she saw a leather-clad teenager leaning over the counter, giggling, and shooting a glance her way.