Amber pulled herself up from between Susan's legs, and curled her entire body around her. She nuzzled Susan's neck.
"I love how you smell," Susan whispered. Susan was amazed at this woman she had met in her American History class just few weeks before. She had never been in love like this.
"Tell me what you fantasize about."
"I wasn't fantasying just then."
"That's not what I mean, I just want to you to tell me, now that you're all orgasmafied and vulnerable."
"Oh, ok. umm..." Susan looked at Amber with big eyes, and shrugged shyly.
"Tell me something that you're a little bit ashamed of."
Susan still couldn't answer, but she wanted to. Amber lay on Susan's chest and she could hear her breathing quietly. She could hear that the music she had put on an hour earlier was still playing.
Amber wasn't giving up. "Please. I'll tell you if you tell me."
"Ok." Susan told a truth, but not the first answer that came to her mind.
"Before I came out, I had fantasies about being raped...sort of. I wanted sex with a woman so bad, but I just wanted someone to see that about me and kiss me and make me eat her pussy."
"Do you still have fantasies like that?"
"I guess I don't anymore. I just have memories, ha ha."
Susan and Amber kissed again, as if they has just invented kissing, again. They put their tongues deep into each other's mouths, and between their breasts, and the backs of their necks, and squeezed their legs, and pulled each other close, again.
After a few minutes, they settled back down into cuddling.
"Tell me one of your fantasies, Amber."
"Ok, but I haven't told anyone this before. It's really bad."
"I don't care."
"I sometimes have incest fantasies."
"With your dad?"
"No, I've had fantasies about my mom."
"Get out! Really? That's amazing!"
"Amazing? You're not disgusted?"
"No, oh my god, Amber." Susan couldn't believe she was about to say this, and at the last moment didn't tell everything.
"So have I. I can't believe you are brave enough to tell me. I never would have told you. I had fantasies about my mom since I was a girl."
Susan couldn't believe she was having this conversation. If she had thought she was falling in love before, the thought of Amber sharing her taboo kink make her heart leap. And then at the same time, she panicked a little that she had told her secret.
"Really? Did you ever tell anyone? "
"No, I know that people are completely grossed out, but I always thought my mom was beautiful and so wonderful and I just wanted to hold her and, um, go... further with her, even when I was in high school. She was sort of sad and lonely."
"That wasn't my mom. She always had boyfriends, I never had a real dad. She had me pretty young and partied a lot when I was a girl. This one time--maybe when I was older--we were at a big party at a neighbor's house. These people had a huge place and always had wild parties there.
"I was sitting on the deck with my friends, and I was horny, of course, because you are at that age, but couldn't do anything about it because I wasn't out to myself yet, let alone to my friends, and then my mom walked out of this room and onto the deck to have a cigarette and I think that she had just been fucked or something. She had this glow about her, and then this neighbor guy, this married guy, walked out just behind her, and then another neighbor guy too, and I think they had all just had sex, but instead of being complete grossed out, I saw her like I'd never seen her. It was both awful and weird, but that night when I was alone in bed I masturbated and thought about my mom having sex with those two guys, and I had great orgasm. It became one of my favorite fantasies--sometimes I pretended that I was one of those guys."
"Wow. Your mom is not like my mom."
Susan put a hand around Amber's breast and lifted her lover's nipple into her mouth.
"My, my, you have such magnificent tits!" Susan pulled her mouth away and looked at Amber excitedly. "Hey, let's do that tantra four-kinds-of-breast-massage thing."
"Oh yeah, like what you read about in that lesbian tantra book? "
"Let me to it to you first. I want to worship your amazing tits."
"What should I do?"
"Just sit up there, and I'll sit between your legs."
"Ok." Amber pulled herself up and got comfortable at the top of the bed. "Your breasts aren't half-bad either. They are just the size of peaches."
Susan chuckled, "I had another lover who said that."
"Another lover? You mean I'm not your first?"
"No, you're not my first, but you're the first woman I've done this with."
"Done what?"
"This. Worshiped her breasts. I love your breasts, Amber, I could just make them my personal lord and savior."
Susan buried her face between them for a few seconds, and Amber put her hands on Susan's head. "Bless you my child."
Susan brought her head up and grinned. "Ok, let's start."
Susan sat back on her heels in front of Amber and started massaging her breasts. Susan needed a little bit of distraction from the revelation of their shared fantasy.
"I love just sitting here in front of you, just touching your breasts. Stroking, smoothing, pinching."
"Ow!"
"Oh, you like that."
Amber smiled, "Yeah, I do."
"Just massaging and massaging," Susan whispered. "Stroking... enjoy it, Amber."
Amber closed her eyes and fell into total awareness of the sensation of Susan's hands on her breasts, on the nearly silent sound of hands on her skin. Before long, they were breathing together, slowly, in and out. Both of Susan's hands danced on Amber's breasts, reverently stroking and pressing and kneading and holding. As she sat before her lover, Susan could smell their pussies' fragrance from their love making.
Amber's breasts were deliciously round and plump. As she stroked them, Susan thought about how this woman was the first she ever had told about her attraction to her mother. That Amber herself had had those fantasies--Susan's clit jumped every time she thought of that. She wanted to know more. Amber took a deep breath as Susan's hands lifted both of Amber's breasts at once, then enjoyed their heaviness in her hands before she let them rest against Amber's body, and returned to stroking and swirling her hands around them.
Susan had had a few other lovers, but since her mother last December, she hadn't met anyone who touched her where she needed to be touched, both in body and her heart. She couldn't believe it that Amber also shared-- at least in fantasy --an attraction to her mother--and that she could talk about incest fantasies!
....incest. She smiled to herself at the word. "Taboo." Those words. She and her mother, Joan, were lovers, that made sense to her now. But the taboo of incest still made her hot inside---her own mother, and thinking about other young women who might be lovers with their own mothers. She had wanted to meet them, but never thought she'd have the courage to let anyone else know.
Susan remembered how she and her mother had been so shy with each other the next day after that first night. Joan had even said that morning over coffee when Susan had started to say something about what had happened, that she didn't want to speak of it again. Susan thought at first that that was what her mother truly wanted and she had resigned herself to a lifetime of fantasies, just like she always had had.
But that night, Susan was about to sleep in the guest bed that had been unused the night before. Joan followed her in. As Susan drew back the blanket, Joan took her hand, and just said, "Come here, honey." Susan looked into her mother's eyes, a little confused and surprised. She saw only love and desire. She followed her mother to her mother's room again, just as she had the night before. Joan sat down on the bed. Susan sat next to her. They kissed. And then they made love.
Their parting at the end of Susan's winter break was wrenching. Joan told Susan bring home her girl friend next time, and they laughed at her boldness. Susan had been encouraging Joan to think about exploring her sexuality with other women all week, and Joan promised that she'd consider it, but probably not. After Susan returned to school, Joan tried not to call too often, and Susan quickly became preoccupied with classes--and then Amber.
Amber. Amber's head was resting on the bed frame and she might have been asleep, or deep in trance, and Susan had been worshiping her breasts for about fifteen minutes.
"Sweetheart, " Susan whispered, "Let's stand up now."
"On the bed? "
"No, let's go over to the doorway."
Amber stood in the door to the bedroom, and Susan gently lifted her hands and placed them on the jamb. She stood behind Amber and lifted her breasts, and sighed. Pressing her own breasts into Amber's back, Susan began again to stroke and lift, to knead and love with every possible kind of touch, Amber's perfect globes.
"What kind of fruit are these?" Susan asked.
"Grapefruit."
"What kind of grapefruit?"
"Texas grapefruit."
"That's right." And they laughed together. This was already an familiar joke between them.
Again Susan stroked and pinched and loved Amber's breasts. She squeezed her nipples and rubbed her areolae. She wondered about Amber fantasizing about her own mother. Susan really wanted to hear those fantasies. After last December, she had gone on the internet to find other women like herself. She was surprised that so many women shared her fantasy--few who had actually been able to live it.
Amber's knees buckled a little and Susan held her with one arm while she lifted one breast and then the other, then pinched each nipple. Amber moaned.
Susan had written to a few of the women she met on websites. She had asked them about their fantasies--why they thought they were so excited by thinking about a mother and a daughter having sex, and if they had really done it. The women thought the fantasy of mothers and daughters having sex together was about the closeness and love, the intimacy, and the fact that it was so wrong in society's eyes--the taboo was exciting. Since Susan had actually made love to her mother, she agreed. It was the closeness and the intimacy that she desired, and had always desired, since she first became sexually aware of herself. And it was her mother's beauty too. She had always seemed so beautiful, and now that she was in her forties, even more so, as women that age often are.
