My name's Joy, I'm 45 and I live in Warley near Birmingham and work as a librarian at the local university. My husband Jeff and I met at school when we were both 13 and he was the love of my life. We married after leaving university at 21, and on my 22nd birthday I gave birth to my darling daughter Leanne. We would have liked more children but after I had a bad miscarriage doctors advised us it would be a bad idea. He died from a brain aneurism nearly five years ago, it hit me very hard and I still miss him deeply.
Last October - before we'd ever heard of Covid - my niece got married. By a terrible coincidence, without realising she'd set the day for the anniversary of Jeff's death. I usually spend that day quietly reflecting and I almost turned down my wedding invite, but Leanne persuaded me how much I'd be missed and she accompanied me to the afternoon service. She looked stunning on the day, in a white shirt, a stylish dove grey trouser suit and low-heeled court shoes - at five-feet-ten she's already five inches taller than me and in high heels she would have towered over most of the other guests. Leanne's rather an extrovert, and she's something of a local celebrity, a talented athlete who's represented England in the long jump. She takes after her father in build, slim and athletic with a small chest - I'm rather more curvy and busty - and she has a six-pack many men would envy. She has my dark looks though (I have Maltese blood somewhere in my ancestry) and wears her hair in a short bob cut. She was very dedicated to her sport at school and never seemed to have time for boys.
The church service was very nice, and Leanne refused to let me duck out of the reception, which was held in the ballroom of a swanky local hotel. I was planning to go home in the evening but I knew Leanne had splashed out on a room there, and she told me "The athletics season's finished so I'm going to let myself go for once." I just picked at my dinner, but when the dancing started I did enjoy chatting with my sisters and my nieces and nephew. A couple of glasses of champagne helped too. As is often the case Leanne was the life and soul of the party, dancing energetically with both male and female guests. The bride and groom left quite early and I intended to go then, but when I looked around for Leanne to let her know I couldn't find her.
Then I heard a some laughter and a ripple of applause from the entrance to the ballroom. The small group in front of me parted and there stood Leanne - looking almost the spitting image of Jeff! She'd slicked back her hair, cleaned her face of make-up and donned a pair of glasses and a realistic looking false moustache shaped exactly like his. One of my sisters glanced nervously at me to gauge my reaction but, after a moment of open-mouthed surprise, I felt my body shaking with laughter and shook my head. I knew Leanne had done it to try and cheer me up and it was so typical of her. At that moment Come on Eileen started up on the disco and Leanne grabbed my hand and dragged me out onto the dance floor. For the first few seconds we were the only dancers, with the other guests surrounding us and clapping rhythmically as we jived, then others took to the floor too.
Leanne kept me up for another dance, by the end of which I was winded. Then the lights dropped and Up Where We Belong started up. Just as Jeff would have done, Leanne slipped an arm around my waist, took my other hand in hers, pulled me close and we shuffled around the floor together to the song. The situation just felt so romantic that I began to miss my husband terribly and, feeling tears prickle my eyes, I rested my head on Leanne's chest. When the song ended, in true Officer and a Gentleman style Leanne swept me up into her strong arms and amid laughter and clapping from our relatives, and despite my laughing protests, she carried me out of the ballroom and up the sweeping staircase of the hotel.
She had to put me down to open the door of her room and ushered me in. It was large and decorated in the colours of Wedgwood pottery, and dominated by what looked like a king-sized bed. Leanne took off the glasses and shrugged off her suite jacket. I turned to thank her and tell her I really had to go but to my surprise she pulled me into her arms again. From below we could hear the strains of Lionel Richie's Three Times A Lady, and again my daughter pulled me into a close-clinching dance. This time both her arms were around my waist and as we shuffled together she pressed herself to me and I gasped - I could clearly feel a large erection pressing into my belly! I started to ask Leanne what was going on but she shushed me and placed a finger on my lips. I acquiesced and we continued to dance, her firmness rubbing against me. Despite the fact that it was my own little girl I was dancing with, the effect of that stiffness, the sheer romanticism of the situation, and probably the champers, combined to have a strange effect on me and I felt a hot stirring in my belly and loins that I hadn't experienced for a long time.
When the song ended Leanne didn't release me from her arms. Our faces were within an inch or to of each other and we gazed into each other's eyes. We must have stood like that for several seconds before she placed a hand behind my head and gently pulled my face to hers. It felt deeply shocking, yet somehow not surprising, when she pressed her lips to mine. Her tongue flicked at my lips and of their own accord they parted to allow her entry. As her big tongue explored my mouth I sucked on it, forgetting who it was who was kissing me and simply enjoying the sensation, and the sweet taste of champagne on her tongue. I felt her unzipping my dress, and she finally broke the kiss and stood back to push it down to pool around my feet.
I felt in a trance, incapable of resisting my daughter's advances. She crouched before me and lifted each of my feet out of the dress, at the same removing my shoes. I gasped again as she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of my pants and eased them and my tights down and off, leaving me naked except for my bra. I shuddered with shameless arousal as Leanne pressed her face into my Brillo pad of black pubic hair, her hands clenching my buttocks, fingers kneading them. Still in my trance-like state, I reached behind and unfastened my bra, allowing it to fall. Leanne rose and, turning back the duvet, laid me in her bed, She stripped quickly and I gazed admiringly at her taut muscular body. Her skin was bronzed by the sun except for the pale whiteness of her bikini areas. Suspended from a belt around her waist, over her shaved mons pubis, was the enormous, realistically modelled dildo I'd felt earlier, removing from my mind any last shred of doubt that she'd planned this whole thing from the start. Finally she turned off the room lights and, lit only by the moon through the bedroom window, slipped into the bed beside me.
As she pulled me to her I think it was the feel of her warm naked body, and the cool rubber cock between us, that provoked a last moment of rationality and guilt in me. Placing my hand on her cheek I whispered, "Leanne, we can't do this, it's so wro..." She didn't let me finish, rolling on top of me and kissing me deeply. Lost in the moment I wrapped my arms around her neck, fenced back at her with my own tongue, and I felt my hips pushing up at her.
