Illicit Liaison

With grateful thanks to 'shygirlwhore' for her help in editing my story.

*****

My story begins one lazy Sunday afternoon while my daughter and I were relaxing in front of the TV after dinner. It was what we normally did and at first nothing seemed different. The birds were chirping happily outside and we were chirpy and happy inside. My daughter, however, had clearly drunk more wine with her dinner than usual, and if I look back and reflect on that particular Sunday I do remember something a little different about her behavior. She had been continuously glancing over to me and smiling, but it was an odd sort of smile and, at that time, one I couldn't put my finger on. After a while I simply brushed it aside and thought it must have been the wine and nothing more. A little while later she got up, sauntered over to me, and with what appeared to be an unusually, and even suggestive twinkle in her eye, she said.

"I'm just popping upstairs to my room for a while, mom."

Even odder, I thought, but her reasons were soon to become very clear. After about ten minutes or so I heard loud noises from her room. At first, I imagined she was dancing or moving her furniture about, but it was no such thing. The noises I heard were those of her bed thumping about making a hell of a din. Then her voice crying out the foulest of language. She was masturbating and swearing like a trooper. I know we all enjoy a bit of gusset typing, but I had never heard my own daughter doing it in such a manner, and to tell you the truth I was quite shocked. Not particularly shocked because she was masturbating, but because of the shouting and swearing accompanying it. Half the damn street could have heard her. I had absolutely no idea what was on her mind either, but when I did find out I was in for a complete and utter shock.

The loud and extremely verbal masturbating was to continue over the following couple of weeks. Not just in her bedroom either, but in the shower, the bath, the garden and on one occasion, right outside my bedroom door in the early hours of one morning. She was deeply involved with herself and it was so graphic too. I could even hear the sounds of her fingers sloshing in and out of her pussy.

The most astounding part, and one which had me rooted to the spot, was hearing her calling out my name during her climax. From that moment on, it was very clear to me that my daughter was intending to be heard, and by me. But why? What was going on in that pretty head of hers?

The night she fingered herself outside my door had me tossing and turning in my bed. I was having a job getting to sleep and eventually got up to make myself a cup of coffee in the hope that it would settle me.

Downstairs in the kitchen, as I sat alone with my thoughts while sipping my unexpected nightcap, I soon realised it was something other than coffee I wanted. Something completely different. My body was teasing me and multiple urges had overpowered me. Standing up, with my back against the fridge, I slipped my panties off and gave myself an absolutely amazing fingering. And just as my daughter had done, I let go with tirades of sexual abuse in my earth-shattering climax. Later, back upstairs in my bed, I slept like a log.

I've never been married and often enjoyed a good fingering by my own hands, at least three times a day. I guess it runs in the family. I did have a close relationship with a guy for a number of years though. My daughter, Samantha, is the result of that relationship. He wasn't a bad guy either, but I wasn't ready to settle down with him. In the end we drifted apart. But I'm happy the way things turned out and wouldn't have it any other way. I've had a few proposals since but only from the type of men who want me for my body.

I like what I've got and find much comfort from admiring and touching myself as well as others. My body is very sensitive, and my nipples especially are forever reminding me just how sensitive it is. They are often a giveaway as to my thoughts, and even now, as I speak, they are stirring beneath my t-shirt. Next it will be my pussy becoming moist. I could easily become quite attached to myself, and why not? Others enjoy me so why shouldn't I?

Some weeks later, again on a Sunday afternoon, my daughter and I were sitting watching a DVD after dinner. It was cozier than usual because it was raining gently outside, and that always seems to add more comfort to a relaxing atmosphere at home. A kind of protective feeling. Plus, we were sharing a bottle of fine wine saved for such a rainy day. Unlike the gentle rain, the wine was gushing.

It wasn't to be long before our restful Sunday afternoon around the TV began transforming itself into a party atmosphere, a drunken one at that, and with some rather risqué jokes flying around, followed by riotous laughter. That was new to me and rather fun. Samantha, behaving like a giggling schoolkid, made a couple of party hats from an old newspaper and after we'd downed the entire bottle I got something stronger from the drinks cabinet and we started on that.

With the rain now thrashing down, and rumbles of thunder in the distance, Samantha turned off the TV and put some music on. Within half an hour, while dancing cheek-to-cheek and holding each other tight, we could barely stand up and decided to sit back down, before we fell down, my daughter, collapsing into an armchair and me falling headlong onto the sofa. To my astonishment, my daughter began sucking her thumb. Something she hadn't done for years.

The thunder was right overhead now and the sky was black, transforming the sitting room into night time. I couldn't even see the drinks cabinet across the far side of the room. Suddenly, there was a deafening crack of thunder right overhead causing my daughter to almost jump from her skin.

"Oh, mom!" she cried out, leaping up and sounding very afraid. "I hate the fucking thunder!"

I patted the sofa and said for her to come and sit with me. Through the darkness, she staggered over and sat herself upon my lap while I held onto her. My daughter is very affectionate like me and even though she's nineteen, we often snuggled up together on the sofa for a cuddle, especially during a storm. We were very close like that. As she got herself comfortable, with her tiny pleated mini skirt barely covering her little pants, her long shapely legs wrapped themselves around me.

"I've got you, Sammy darling," I said. "Your Mom's here to take care of you, and that's okay to keep sucking your thumb if it relaxes you."

She was shaking and quickly snuggled her face into my neck holding me tightly with her arms encircling my back. Kissing her rosy red cheeks, I tenderly stroked her long blonde hair to soothe her. She sighed and then hiccupped. Her hiccup made me realize just how pissed we both were and I couldn't help giggling. Yes, I was behaving like a kid too. She giggled along with me and began kissing me around the neck while running her hands through my long blonde hair. And even though I tried to hide it from her, I didn't like storms either.

But a mother tries to prevent her teen from seeing the fear in her eyes. I have to be her heroine at times like that. But I guess the fact that I jumped every time there was a rumble of thunder gave away my secret. My Sammy isn't just a very pretty girl but a bright one too. And as her gentle daughterly kisses around my neck and shoulders became more loving I found myself whispering to her, telling her how lovely she was making me feel.

"You truly are such a beautiful girl, my darling daughter. I love you so much and adore such affection from you."

On hearing that, Sammy's lips, wet from her thumb-sucking, rose from my neck to kiss me around the face. It was wonderful, magical and enchanting. Our affection for each other had never been so intense. My face soon became wet from her kisses and my daughter's quickly became wet from mine. And as I did so she spoke softly to me.

"I love you too, mommy darling. I really do. I hope you don't mind me saying this but I think you're so fucking sexy and I love it when you're like this. Have you kissed our new neighbor, Mr DeVille, yet? Or has he kissed you? Or even fucked you? I bet he has."

Hearing her talk like that made me giggle again. She's always doing that to me, and now I was feeling other sensations. We've always been able to communicate with each other about most things so I had no qualms in telling her that Mr DeVille had indeed kissed me, and that I'd kissed him back. My yearning to talk of it in detail soon overpowered me and my Sammy became mesmerized by such revelations from her mom. I hadn't done that before but in that sitting room with such an exotic atmosphere engulfing me, and such a kiss from a dishy guy like him made me want to tell all.

Downing another vodka, cuddling and caressing each other in the steamy hot darkness, and with my speech slurred, I began to tell her all about my first meeting with him when I went to his house to introduce myself. As I spoke, with my daughter so very close to me, now sucking her thumb vigorously, I could feel my nipples tingling.

"We shared a bottle of his wine and got chatting," I began.

"His eyes were all over me. My tits, my thighs, my lips, my ass, everywhere! But I was doing the same to him. I couldn't fucking stop myself, Sam. Even his voice was captivating. It was so deep and manly. His eyes too were bewitching, dark and deep set. All that combined with his English accent and silver-grey hair was arousing me. He knew it too because my nipples, as always, were clearly evident of how turned on I was. And when he stood up to refill my glass I could clearly see that he too was very aroused indeed!" Samantha pulled her thumb from her mouth and stopped me in my tracks.

"You mean he had a stiff cock, mom?"

"Oh gosh! Yes, darling I do, and a very big one it was. The bulge in his shorts looked like a tent! He'd made sure I saw it too by standing in front of me for quite a while with the drinks. But I too had made sure that he got a lot more of me to ogle. While he had his back to me pouring the drinks I unfastened a couple of buttons on my shirt."

At that point, my lovely daughter, whilst nibbling my ear, peered down at my wholesome breasts and ran her finger over my lips. Surprising me, she said I had a great pair of tits and an inviting mouth with thick sexy lips.

"I bet you kiss really good mom," she added.

"You think so, darling?" I asked, gazing into her eyes.

"Yes I do," she replied without hesitation. "They're real hot lips, mom!"

Inserting her thumb back into her mouth she began sucking it with an urgency. In the past, as a child, she did that whenever she felt anxious or had troubles on her mind. Somehow, at that moment, it was to take on a very different meaning for me. It was beginning to arouse me, and by the look on my daughter's face it was doing the same for her.

By then I was even hotter. How lovely she is and how wonderful she was making me feel. I thanked her for the compliments and at the same time told her that she too is sexy and has a gorgeous body like her mom. She liked that and told me she enjoys being kissed around the neck. She followed that by arching her head back revealing her swan-like neck, which was clearly an invitation for me to kiss it. and one I simply could not resist.

Along with me, while I took up her offer, and ran my tongue over her neck, kissing it and biting it, she became terribly excited and her own highly sensitive nipples caught my eye as they stood out hard against the inside of her own revealing little top. Catching me gazing at her outstanding assets, she again slid her thumb from her mouth and placed her glass on the coffee table to glance down at them.

"Just like yours, aren't they, mom?" she said proudly, pushing her chest out to give me a better view.

With an invitation to take a longer look I couldn't resist the urge to do so.

I know a mother shouldn't think such things about her own daughter, especially ogling them too, but her tits are so gorgeous and almost as big as mine and beautifully milky white. And as our eyes wearily gazed at each other's breasts, both enthralled by such a close encounter, coupled with my tale of Mr DeVille, I gave her a somewhat unmotherly kiss upon her moist lips and asked if she'd like another drink.

"Oh yes I would, mom," she said eagerly, clearly delighted by my kiss. "A large one please, darling. And tell me more about Mr DeVille."

At this point, I had no realization of the developing situation and was merely enjoying what appeared to be some kind of silly game between mother and daughter. Foolish perhaps, and even dumb, but the heat, coupled with the drink, had numbed my senses and the 'game' was to become much more than that. However, it was clear to me that my daughter was also enjoying what was happening between us so I carried on regardless.

In my drunken state I made a move to get up and stumbled, and there I was about to pour us yet another drink. But I so needed one. I liked the feeling it was giving me. It was making me feel so good. I felt sexy too, deliriously so! A kind of sexiness I hadn't experienced until now, devilish and perhaps even shamefully unnatural. Never before had I felt such sensations. I kept thinking of her touching herself outside my bedroom. She must have looked and felt terrific.

Trying to put such thoughts to the back of my mind I linked arms with her and with our tits, as well as our legs wobbling, we staggered towards the drinks cabinet.

"You're as fucking pissed as me, Beverley!" she said, making me feel even more aroused by using my name.

"You're so right, you sexy little beast!" I replied, almost crashing into the sofa. "Just keep holding me, darling."

Taking me by my word, and grabbing hold of me, she pulled me towards her, and before I knew what was happening, she began kissing me full on the mouth. Lipstick to lipstick sent ripples of lust throughout my body. My tongue, seemingly with a mind of its own, shot into her mouth to join forces with hers.

The kiss was like no other I'd ever had. Deep, full of desire and so powerful it almost blew me away, jaw-wrenching, lustful and one I never wanted to stop. Sammy must have realised it too because I was pulling her hard onto me, and the harder I pulled, the harder she kissed me.

For what seemed like forever, our gaping mouths were fused together in wild abandonment until, sadly, after our long and highly passionate kiss of fire, and as the proverb states; all good things must come to an end, our lips quivered apart. Unwinding our tongues, we held each closer than we'd ever done.

Panting, gasping and revelling in such a kiss from my daughter, I whispered to her, telling her that the kiss was wonderful, adding, that she was a naughty girl for kissing her mother like that. Her reply came quick.

"Naughty but nice, Beverley, and sometimes being naughty is the better option. I loved kissing you and you can kiss me anytime you want. Nobody will know except you and me."

Even though I would have enjoyed another kiss, I didn't reply, and with my face burning, and hotter now than ever, we parted and stumbled onwards.

"This way, gorgeous!" she said, running her tongue over her lips. "And that kiss was fantastic, mom! The best yet! You are such a fucking sexy tease!"

Even the language from her was now arousing me, as was the manner in which she was speaking to me. I liked it and was more than happy to continue joining in with my own feelings and strong language, and she was right, the kiss was fantastic!

"I'm so fucking hot, Sam!" I said, referring to the weather. "How about you?"

Pausing halfway across the room, she closed in on me and spun me around to face her. Her big blue eyes opened wide and her lashes fluttered as they wandered from my lips to my almost fully-exposed breasts.

"There's no doubt about that!" she confirmed.

"You really are hot, mom! Why don't you take your shirt off? And yes, I'm feeling hot too. And talking of heat, all the guys at work and even the girls, reckon you are one hot sexy fucking woman. And I agreed with them. I love the way you look, the way dress and the way you're flirting with me. You're the kinda woman I want. By the way, darling, I love it when we kiss on the lips like that - hard and deep."

Stunned and bewildered, but at the same time enjoying such wonderfully erotic words from my daughter, and with her own hot body tormenting me, I staggered onwards and turned to my tale of our dishy neighbor.

"Mr DeVille made it very plain he wanted to fuck me, Sammy," I continued. "I wanted it too but decided it would make me look like a cheap fucking whore if I allowed him to screw me on our first meeting. After a kissing session, and while he had me on the sofa, he put his hand up my skirt trying to get my panties off. Plus, his cock was already out and standing up in front of me like Nelson's Column. In the end I was so fucking worked up I grabbed it and sucked him off. And when he shot into my mouth, he yelled out...

"Oh fuck! The British are coming!"

It was the first time I'd laughed with a mouthful of cum.

Wobbling on my heels and now with my back to her, I awaited her response.

With the sky still black and the sitting room even darker, an eerie silence fell upon us, followed a few seconds later by a tell-tale low muffled gasping sound from my daughter. I was struck dumb! A mother knows of such sounds, and at that moment in my life I was afraid to turn around, realizing instantly that Samantha was touching herself.

On the floor by my feet was her bra and mini skirt. A few feet away in front of me was the little light on the drinks cabinet. Behind it was a mirror. In it I saw her crushing her beautifully-formed wholesome teenage tits with one hand, and the other hand inside her panties fingering herself. The moaning and gasping from her inviting mouth grew louder until she could no longer stand the silence from me and blurted out her desires.

"Oh fuck, Mom!" she cried. "You've turned me on so much, you gorgeous sexy bitch! You've made me do this, darling! Don't you want to watch me, mom? Touch me? Kiss me and have sex with me? I've heard you at nights in your bedroom fingering yourself just like I'm doing now. Oh Beverley, I gotta have you!"

And then it happened. On reaching the drinks cabinet my body froze and my head began to spin. My heartbeat increased to an alarming rate and I felt that all life had been drained from me. The bottle I had picked up fell to the floor and I stood there in a state of shock and utter disbelief and yet I could do nothing to stop her.

My daughter was standing behind me pressing herself up against me, kissing me around the neck while her hands were beneath my shirt pawing at my tits. Such outrageous behavior was heaven and hell combined. Heaven, because I was crazy about having my tits crushed. Hell because it was my own daughter doing it. It was madness, insane, unthinkable and yet so fucking beautiful I couldn't stop her!

I tried. I really tried to stop her! In my head I was saying, ''Stop it! Stop it!'' but the words wouldn't form in my mouth. She shouldn't have been doing it and I shouldn't have allowed it to happen. I felt dreadful and yet wonderful at the same time. I was in turmoil! The sensation of her hands crushing my tits and twisting my granite-like nipples around and around in her fingers sent me into a sexual whirl. A whirl in which I was unable to free myself.

I'd left it too late anyway. She must have realised I was enjoying it. I was trying hard not to let it show, but found it impossible. I so love my tits being heaved about, and instead of doing it myself my ravishing daughter was doing it for me. I started to wriggle and sigh, gasp and moan. This was a warmth new to me, beautiful and yet terrifying at the same time. A cocktail of the devil himself.