(Author's note: Hi all and thank you for your continuing support for my stories! I'm so amazed with the level of engagement each and every time, so please continue to rate and comment!
This story is a little bit different from those i've done before - this is based on the real-life exploits of a Lit friend. All characters are over the age of 18. Many thanks to Pixiehoff my lovely editor for her help once again!)
It was about two months after my daughter Cathy's 19th birthday, that everything changed. It had been a tough couple of years, following my divorce from her father, but the pair of us, Cathy and I, managed to muddle through. Cathy managed to finish school and I managed to keep a roof over our heads and food on the table.
I don't know when exactly that I started to see Cathy through more than a mother's eyes. I started to notice her body more, her clothes, the way she wore her hair differently on occasion. The way she talked, the words she chose to use.
And the sounds she made during orgasm.
It was a Saturday afternoon, and I was sorting out laundry. I went to Cathy's room to grab her hamper and, oh lord, there she was.
She was lying on her bed, facing away from me. She had her smartphone in one hand, the other hand was busy in her panties. She must have had her ear pods in because she hadn't heard me come into the room.
I was...transfixed. I could see that she was watching some lesbian porn scene and was getting quite worked up about it judging by the activity in her panties. I stood there, watching. Any thought of leaving had long gone out of my head, I was rooted to the spot. Watching her. My daughter. Before long, my own hand had snuck under my tee-shirt and was caressing my own breast, tweaking my nipple. My other hand slid into my shorts, into my panties. God, I was already wet.
I listened to her. Her breathing. Watcher her. Watched her hand speed up, her breasts rise and fall, her lips parted as her breathing became more laboured. My own fingers were getting me close. I had to bite down on my knuckle to stifle the moan that was building in me. Cath was writhing on the bed now, her own moans loud and so, so sexy. Oh God....
I managed to stumble out before she recovered and removed her ear-pods and jumped in the shower to wash off my own cum from my pussy and thighs. I couldn't help but use the showerhead to get me off again, replaying in my mind what I has witnessed.
I was in the kitchen, having a coffee when Cath came downstairs at last.
"I'm heading out, mum, going to see Janet." She smiled. I smiled back.
"I'm doing laundry, do you want me to do your hamper?" I asked her. She kissed me on the cheek and said, "Yes please mum. I forgot about it this morning." and off she went.
So I was in the basement, loading her clothes in the washing machine, when I came across her panties. Her worn panties, the ones she had on when she was masturbating earlier. I held them in my hand, and, well, I couldn't help myself, I deeply inhaled her aroma from the gusset. It was still damp and smelled delicious. I blushed hard when I realised that I was doing and tossed them in the washer with her other stuff.
A few days went by and everything was normal, except I was far from normal. Every time I looked at her I could only see her on her bed. Then I thought of the type of porn she was watching and wondered if my daughter was in fact a lesbian and hadn't told me yet, or whether she was just curious. Had she been with girls already? The thought, I have to admit ashamedly, excited me.
I was becoming obsessed with my daughter and what I imagined her sex-life to be. Whether she and her friend Janet were more than friends. Whether she'd been with any boys, or just girls. But most of all I was obsessed with her wet panties.