Mother and Daughter: a Love Story

Storming into the sitting room, throwing her mobile phone onto the floor, Gillian snatched a magazine from the coffee table and slumped onto the couch. Across the other side of the room, her mother peered over her reading glasses.

"Your magazine's upside down," she said. "What is it this time, girlfriend trouble?"

Huffing and puffing, Gillian crossed and uncrossed her legs, flung the magazine across the room and picked up her phone from the floor.

"My life's upside down too!" She snapped. "The bitch sent me a text telling me it's over!"

Seeing her daughter so distressed, mother did what all caring mothers do in times of woe. She made a pot of tea. Gillian again snapped.

"Oh, how bloody lovely!" She bellowed, with a distinct air of sarcasm. "I'm all dressed up with nowhere to go. No bloody girlfriend and all I get to console me is a cup of fucking tea!"

Mother frowned and told her to moderate her language.

"I'm sorry mother, but I feel so annoyed. I was really looking forward to going dancing tonight. We were going night-clubbing. Now I'm stuck at home in this bloody Manor House with nothing to do!"

Gracefully sipping her tea, mother, the Lady of the Manor, removed her steamed-up glasses, and this time peered over the rim of her cup.

"Oh dear," she said, now feeling concerned for her. "Well in that case, why don't you come over here and sit next to me? We can have something stronger than tea if you wish. It might loosen you up."

Gillian, bored rigid, and most definitely in need of loosening up, begrudgingly finished her tea, placed her cup and saucer upon the table, took up her mother's offer, and sauntered over to sit alongside her.

"Well I'm glad you didn't throw that onto the floor, Gilly," said mother, giving her a smile as she plonked her bottom down next to her. "It's my best Wedgewood tableware, but for now I think we'll have that drink along with a little chat."

Pouring them both a sherry, she passed one to her daughter and began to chat.

"The trouble is, Gillian, we don't see enough of each other. Often, while I've been home, you've been away at university. Then when you're home, I've been out on business. We've not really had the chance to chat like this so I think we should take advantage of the situation and do just that. Firstly, I'm so sorry you've walked straight into trouble not long after returning home, but I'm sure things will work out for the better. In fact, at times like this, I feel we could help each other. I was hoping to go out too, but would much rather stay home to help you understand a few things, and for us to get to know each other better."

As time ticked on, and while they sipped their sherry, Gillian felt the warmth of her mother's words of wisdom, pointing out it doesn't have to be the end of the world because she's lost her girlfriend, but could be the beginning of something new. Compliments too left her mother's lips, reminding her that she was a very beautiful and desirable young lady, and one who would almost certainly soon be out clubbing again, and with someone special. Hopefully, with a girl better than the one who'd just ditched her.

"It's true, Gillian," she added, hugging her. "You'll soon have another girl to hold onto. You'll see."

Her daughter's bisexuality had been no secret from her mother. That was brought up a couple of years ago during a conversation they'd had about her studies at university. It was there that Gillian had her first sexual encounter with another girl, and was the very first time anyone had brought her to a climax with their tongue between her legs. None of her boyfriends had ever pleased her like that. Some had fingered her to a climax, but never had they given her a long passionate kiss with their tongues inside her. Such a kiss was to eventually turn Gillian's preferences towards females, with guys in second place. Her daughter, however, has a lot going for her. With a body like hers, the girls were queueing up for her.

But of course, her mother didn't know of such intimate details. No daughter could allow her own mother such personal information. That was privy to her. She was just aware that her daughter was bisexual and had accepted it.

Gillian though, still not happy over the prospect of spending Saturday night at home, whether in the company of her mother or otherwise, shrugged her shoulders, curled up her long legs, and rested her head in her hands. Mother, seeing her daughter looking so downhearted, and knowing how she loved her Saturday nights on the town, came up with an idea. An idea which was to change everything.

"Listen Gilly," she began, enthusiastically. "I've had a change of mind. See how you feel about this. It's still early, so how about the two of us going out together? I'm sure we could find somewhere to go that would cheer you up. I don't like seeing you like this. It's not like you at all. What do you say?"

Although grateful by such an offer, Gillian still had her mind firmly set on going clubbing, and was clearly dressed for it, but, knowing her mother, it would have to be somewhere other than a club. She just couldn't imagine herself sitting in a restaurant with her though, especially on a Saturday night. That wouldn't do much for her street cred at all. Nor would it if she was to phone around to ask if any of her friends were stuck for something to do. Turning to face her, she answered her mother's question with one of her own.

"Come clubbing with me and I will," she said. "How about it, mother?"

She looked her daughter up and down.

"Are you serious?" She replied, with her eyes still looking her over. "And dressed like that I suppose? You're hardly wearing anything, Gilly. I couldn't possibly go clubbing wearing so little!"

"Why not? You've got a good figure and you only look half your age. In fact, the last time we went out shopping together, someone asked me who the new girlfriend was."

"Now you're being silly, Gillian," she said, bringing out the real Lady of the Manor in her.

"Besides, I don't have a wardrobe anything like yours. Even if I had I wouldn't know the first thing about all this modern dancing. I was watching the TV last night and saw all these girls jigging about doing the Hully Gully, or whatever it was, and something called the Mashed Banana."

Gillian, snapping out of her miseries, collapsed into laughter causing one of her breasts to fall out. She quickly tucked it back in.

"Oh mother! You do make me laugh!" she cried, with tears running down her cheeks. "Nobody jigs around to those relics from the past anymore. That was a documentary about the sixties! And it's the Mashed Potato, not a bloody Banana! Come clubbing with me, mother. You'll be a riot. No need for any jigging about if you don't want to. We'll do some slow dancing. I know just the place. Say yes and I'll let you borrow something from my wardrobe."

Mother again looked her over. She was showing more flesh than she had clothing to cover it.

"Oh really?" Replied mother, reminding her of what just happened. "I would die on the spot if one of my boobs popped out. Your clothes wouldn't fit me anyway. And as it happens, they hardly fit you! That skirt is so short I can almost see what you had for breakfast."

With the conversation going nowhere, the mood changed and they fell silent. Gillian, now truly fed up again, fell back and lay her head upon her mother's shoulder. As she did so, the Grandfather clock in the hallway chimed out the hour of nine. Her mother, checking her watch, and mulling over all the things her daughter had said, placed her arm around her and snuggled up close. Consoling her daughter was proving to be somewhat difficult.

Her mother was a very refined woman, and one who dressed in a manner befitting such a Lady; smart and highly fashionable. Her appearance would give the impression of a woman who'd just stepped from the pages of a high-class fashion magazine. Such attire, however, wasn't of the type one would expect to see at a nightclub; with her Ladyship jigging about with her pearl necklace swinging to and fro. It would be more appropriate for a strawberries and cream garden party. At this particular moment, though, it was her daughter she was concerned about. With her finger under chin, she lifted her head up from her shoulder, and said something which brought a smile back to her face.

"Do you really think your clothes would fit me?"

Gillian, sensing things were about change, sat bolt upright.

"Yes, mother, I really do," she replied, excitedly. "Shall we go and upstairs and you can try them on?"

"Okay, I suppose I'd better," she said with a sigh. "But since we've both been doing a little drinking, we can't take any of the cars. You'd better phone a taxi. Better do it now too. It'll take about half an hour to get here."

Thanking her mother, she hugged her, phoned for a taxi, and both scurried upstairs to her room, where it wasn't to be long before Gillian had dragged out most of her clubbing outfits and thrown them onto her bed.

Picking up one of her skirts, Lady Margaret looked on aghast.

"Good grief! That's not a skirt! That's a wide belt! I'd have men stopping me in the street asking how much I charged!"

Putting it back, Gillian passed her another one.

"What about this?" she asked, holding it up in front of her. "It's a tad longer with a slit in the side."

"Hmm," she muttered. "That's not so bad. It's black and I like black. That slit goes up a long way though."

"So do your legs," retorted Gillian. "You've got good legs. You should show them off like I do. The blokes won't be able to keep their eyes off you."

Putting it to one side, she asked if her daughter had a top to match.

"Something in red, perhaps," she added. "Red and black go well together, don't you think?"

Diving into her pile of clothes again, Gillian eventually dug out a red top.

"Perfect!" Said mother. "I'll pop next door to my own room and try them on."

Twenty minutes had passed and mother was still in her room trying on her outfit when Gillian knocked on her door.

"Can I come in?" She asked.

The door opened. She stood there looking a million dollars. Gillian, however, wasn't looking happy at all.

"The cab company just phoned," she said, with a face as long as a fiddle. "The taxi isn't coming. There's been a cloudburst. The road between here and the town is flooded."

The atmosphere instantly went from elation to deflation. With both now looking down in the mouth, all dressed up with nowhere to go, they sat mournfully on mother's bed with their head in their hands. This was not what they had expected and their hearts sank. Making their plight even more depressing, it was now raining buckets in their area.

"Oh well, at least we're in the same boat," sighed Gillian, breaking the silence.

Mother raised her head.

"A boat? Hardly the phrase to use at a time like this," she said. "But listen, Gilly, I've got another idea. Since we're all dressed up in our party outfits like this, how about we have a party here? Well, maybe not a party exactly. We've got plenty of music between us though, and the old ballroom hasn't been used for ages. We could use it for dancing. You've got me in the mood and all dressed up for dancing so why waste it?"

Although it wasn't a night on the town Gillian was hoping for, she thought it was at least a good idea of her mother's to have a musical evening together at home. She could always rely on her to come up with something, and she'd saved the day yet again. She was like that though. Never one to give up when her mind was set on something. Gillian realised dancing with her mother wouldn't be quite the same as she was used to, but would be better than sitting around at home doing bugger all. Her thoughts were interrupted when her mother spoke.

"I guess those blokes you referred to, who you said, 'wouldn't be able to take their eyes from me', will have to wait. I was looking forward to that. Haven't had anyone giving me the eye for quite a while you know. Would have made a nice change, especially with this skirt. That slit shows quite a lot."

Gillian was quick to respond. She was now looking her mother over.

"It suits you, mother, and like I said, you've got great legs and should show them off. As you've already pointed out to me, I wear as little as possible. I do that to attract attention. My motto is, 'if you've got it, flaunt it.' It's the same with all the girls I know. We all like showing off. It gives out the right vibes. Incidentally, if we had gone out tonight, you would have had a bloke in your arms in flash!"

Nudging forty, Lady Margaret didn't realise just how attractive she was. She was pretty sexy too, with or without her glasses. Some would say, even more so when wearing them. They gave out the appearance of a woman of the stereotypical secretarial type; intelligent with a hint of seductive magnetism. Plus, the habit she had of peering over them could melt the hardest of hearts and transform any man into believing she was flirting with him.

When she inherited the title of Lady of the Manor, she became less aware of her own body and began to act the part of what was to be expected of someone of her standing. Often quite aloof and clinging onto England's past when such ladies were to be respected and obeyed. She went as far as to employ a maid and even a chauffeur. The maid, Gretchen, a young eastern European girl, is still at the Manor. The chauffeur went when the money ran out. But right now, with her daughter bringing her back to the present, she was fast becoming a real woman again.

"Well, I'll have to forgo dancing with any blokes for tonight," said mother, while rising up from the edge of the bed, sighing again as she did so.

"Let's get ourselves in the mood and I'll have to make do with you."

"Huh! How charming you are, mother," quipped her daughter. "It's not only you who's going to have to make do you know!"

Her mother laughed and took her hand.

"Just teasing you, Gilly. Now come along, let's go into the ballroom and dance."

A few minutes later, back downstairs, at the far end of the Manor House, with mother holding her daughter's hand, they stepped inside. The old ballroom, now looking its age, giving off the appearance of times gone by, was nevertheless a welcoming sight. Even more so when the huge revolving mirror ball began to spin, shedding its multi-coloured lights floating gracefully around the ceiling, floor and walls.

"Isn't it lovely, Gillian," said mother, squeezing her hand. "I'll put some music on and we can dance. Unfortunately, I'll have to forget the men for now."

After sorting through her collection of CDs, Lady Margaret chose an album of slow romantic music, suiting her style, and in her case, the mood she was in. Plus, being played on a saxophone added a kind of sultriness to it. Peering over glasses, she glanced towards her daughter.

"Are you ready, Gilly?" she asked. "Because I am. I feel good, and I'm happy that you think I look good."

"I'm ready, mother," she replied, again looking her over. "And yes, you look beautiful. Didn't I say you would? That red top is so tight and really shows off your super chest. What about me? Do you now like the way I look?"

As the saxophone began to play 'Lady in Red', they placed their arms around each other and danced. On doing so, and to soothe her daughter, mother held her close. The mood became an extremely affectionate one.

"Of course I like the way you look, Gilly darling," she said. "How could I possibly not? You always did look good. When I mentioned earlier about how you looked tonight, I wasn't being critical, I promise you. You look lovely. All I meant was, I couldn't dress like that at my age. I also know what it feels like to hold onto a woman now. It feels nice. I can now understand how you feel when you're dancing with a girlfriend. It feels different, doesn't it? Being so close like this is rather lovely. I like it."

In the near darkness, with just the mirror-ball lights floating gracefully over their bodies, illuminating them with its multi-colours, Gillian said she felt lovely too, stressing that it is very different holding onto a woman.

"Women are much more affectionate than men," she said, clearing pushing home her bisexuality.

"Their bodies are soft, and it's even nicer to feel the sensation of their breasts pressing against mine. Often, the girl I could be dancing with would be straight, but they still enjoyed me holding them close. Believe me, mother, there's nothing more exciting than trying to seduce a woman who's never been with a female before. On the other hand, it's even more of a thrill when a straight woman becomes attracted to me."

They've always been close and had often chatted about many things in the past, but Gillian had very rarely spoken so intimately about her girlfriends. It was good though, that she felt she could speak to her that way. As they danced, and while the lovely Gillian gazed at the Lady of the Manor in her arms, she continued to explain her feelings; much deeper feelings. Her mother, intrigued by her daughter's candid revelations hung onto every word.

"For me though, mother, it's a bit more than just nice. When I'm close to woman, a bit like I am now with you for instance, I get such wonderful feelings. The feelings I would have had if I'd gone clubbing with the girl, who is now my ex-girlfriend, Josie. She would often kiss me while we danced, and other more intimate things. She always made good use of my short skirts too. And before I forget, I'm sorry about my behaviour earlier, when I busted in on you. I was rude to you and didn't really mean to be. I was pretty unhappy and I'm truly sorry."

Mother, still enjoying her daughter's innermost revelations, and trying hard to avoid staring at her breasts, hugged her and drew her closer.

"Oh, please don't worry, darling," she said, looking into her eyes. "I fully understand. I would have reacted in the same way had it been me. It's never pleasant when someone gets treated like that. I felt for you and now want to make things right. I'm hoping that dancing with you will make you forget what happened. But for the life of me, I cannot imagine why anyone would want to dump you that way. I know I'm biased, but you truly are a very beautiful young lady."

Stroking her daughter's hair, again pulling her close while they danced, she continued complimenting her. Her voice was soft and sensitive.

"I do love your hair like that, Gilly," she began, flicking her finger through her golden locks. "I really do. Having one side flowing over one eye in that manner gives out a kind of, if I may say so, seductive look. Looking like that, you could arouse just about anyone. Is that part of your technique? A way in which you try to attract a woman? If so, I think it's a very provocative one, and it works."

Mother buried her head into her daughter's neck. For a while, Gillian remained silent. Even though it felt comfortable, she wasn't expecting such closeness from her mother, either bodily or by her words. Nevertheless, it did feel so very warm. She also felt good about her continuing compliments. Everyone enjoys those, especially a young woman like her. Whilst the haunting saxophone teased the atmosphere, Gillian, failing to realise, that she too was acting in the same manner as her mother, responded likewise.

"I do appreciate your compliments, mother. Truly I do. Every woman likes to know she's beautiful, and if you're right about me, then I take after you on that score. Tonight, you look stunning, and do you know what? I'm glad we stayed home. I'm feeling happy now, and dancing with you has taken my mind from my troubles. If you don't mind me saying so, you too would attract just about anyone the way you look tonight. Not just men either. You should dress like that more often. Oh, and thank you for what you said about my hair. It's true. I do enjoy looking seductive. A woman's hairstyle goes a long way in achieving that. By the way, is it hot in here, or is it me?"