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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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A Daughter's Journey
By Sarah (curious4milk@aol.com)
***
Sisters love become a physical one. (Ff, ped, inc, rom)
***
CHAPTER ONE:
THE AWAKENING OF EMILY BLAKE
Year: 1804
Setting: England
Emily was perplexed. The youngest of the three Blake
sisters, she was supposed to be enjoying the first days
of her eligibility for courtship with the suitors who
had been gathering for years now at the Blake family
home to seek out the attentions of her very beautiful
elder siblings.
Since her seventeenth birthday two months earlier, the
friends of her parents had routinely brought over their
sons in order to introduce to the Blake's youngest and
most radiant daughter. There were older men as well,
who came on their own, bearing their own gifts,
offering their own compliments, and offering their own
gestures of respect to Emily's parents, Samuel and
Catherine.
Emily knew that such moments had been the basis for all
of her upbringing this far. The manners, the dress, the
lessons, the lectures, all strategies used by her
parents, her father especially, to make her into a wife
desirable to the society beaus who had now finally
arrived to meet her and woo her. Her sisters, Rachel
and Charlotte, had both entered this right of passage
in the previous years. Rachel, the eldest and now
twenty years old, had chosen an older bank owner for
her husband.
They were already three years married and had a son,
named Samuel after his grandfather. Meanwhile Samuel
was beginning to become impatient with Charlotte who,
nearing nineteen years of age, was running out of
worthy suitors and had yet to settle upon a husband.
The father was now threatening to arrange a marriage
for her with Captain Jack Figg, the wealthy young
military officer with whom Mr. Blake had partnered in a
business investment. Charlotte despised Jack Figg.
For the entirety of their lives, all three girls shared
a large bedroom on the third floor of their lavish,
very old family home on the English countryside. As
they entered the courting rights, Rachel, and Charlotte
shortly thereafter, began to relay stories of their
experiences with the men who had come to visit. Each
night, as the three ladies lay in bed, Emily would
listen to her sisters exchange details of kisses,
caresses, and impolite conversations enjoyed beyond the
awareness of the parents.
By the time Charlotte had begun to meet men, the two
older sisters often seemed to compete with each other
in the bawdiness and anatomic details of their stories.
The acts became more lewd, the specifics of anatomy
more graphic, the language shocking. Neither sister
ever went so far as to insinuate that she had lost her
virginity to any of these beaus and Emily believed much
of what they told to be lies and fantasies. Still,
their newfound knowledge of the bodies and desires of
men were alien to Emily and must have been acquired
during their walks in the estate gardens outside of the
view of parental eyes.
The years of training and the bizarre, nasty stories of
her sisters made Emily very nervous when her time to
sit in the parlor and meet her potential husbands came.
Suddenly she was questioning herself, her every move,
as well as the motives and actions of the gentleman who
sat and conversed beside her. Even the rationale of her
parents became suspect in Emily's mind.
All of this stress and tension seemed torture to her
and she wondered how her father in particular could so
excitedly put her through such a gauntlet of emotions.
She was so nervous had to concentrate just to keep the
tea cup from rattling in her sweaty hands.
Many times she could not remember what was said with
these men. They never touched her and she never touched
them, that much she remembered. She tried to remember
to smile, to listen to what they had to say, to come up
with witty conversation, but all of that seemed to
disappear in a haze of fear by the time she sat down
next to a man. All she could think of was how easy it
had seemed for her sisters.
Even now Charlotte stood on the other side of the
parlor, by the window curtains, talking alone and at
ease with Captain Figg, who certainly had no idea of
the girl's distaste for him. Charlotte smiled, spoke,
and touched the man without the slightest show of
anxiety. The most Emily could manage was the quick and
infrequent glance at the gentleman in her company.
On this particular day, William Broughton had come to
pay Emily a visit. It was his first meeting with Emily
in such a setting, although the pair had met on several
occasions throughout their youths in town, at church,
and in other public settings. On all occasions, they
had both been accompanied by their parents.
William was nineteen, reasonably handsome, educated,
the son of a landowner whose territories included the
farm touching the south border of the Blake's property.
He spoke to Emily of the many travels he had already
embarked upon as a business representative for his
father: France, Wales, Denmark, even once to New York
in America. She could only smile and utter mindless
things like, "Oh" and "Quite."
As this was young William's first visit, Samuel and
Catherine were present and speaking with his parents.
It was that the Broughton family had ever set foot
inside the Blake home and Samuel took William's father
on a tour of the mansion's many rooms. Catherine stayed
in the parlor with her two daughters and their suitors,
speaking herself with William's mother. She spent much
of the visit watching Emily nervously struggle in her
seat. Emily, afraid to look at her suitor and made
uncomfortable by watching her sister, stared back at
her mother, whose beauty and inner calm gave Emily her
only peace during the hours of these visits.
Catherine always seemed to have a knowing, empathetic
look in her eyes at these moments from which Emily got
the sense that her mother knew how alien these meetings
felt. Something in her eyes gave Emily comfort that she
was not disappointing her parents but instead that
things would be okay. There seemed to be a secret
Catherine knew and Emily was supposed to discover, some
fact or realization that would end this awkwardness,
self-loathing and misery.
Around the middle of the afternoon, young Broughton had
visibly worn himself down trying to make some sort of
impression on the oblivious and bizarre Blake girl. All
of the parents realized this and polite gestures were
made to insinuate that the visit was over. With a kiss
on Emily's white gloved hand, William took his leave
and his parents left behind him, the entire family
stepping into a coach. Emily did not come to the door
with her sister and parents to watch the carriage roll
along the stone path that led off of the Blake
property.
When Samuel Blake re-entered the parlor first.
Embarrassed, Emily could only glance swiftly up at her
father as she had William and then look ashamedly down
at the floor. He stood before her, nearly a foot taller
than her 5 feet, 2 inches in height, his body very
still but still seemingly charged with furious energy.
His the knuckles of his trembling fists were whiter
than her gloves and his breathing, the only noise he
made, bursting like that of a stallion after a sprint
across the estate grounds.
He said nothing, only stood there a moment looking down
at her tiny frame. Catherine and Charlotte said nothing
either, but only out of fear of what Samuel may do. He
did nothing, only standing there for thirty seconds and
then stomping off into the vastness of his house.
As his footsteps grew fainter down one of the
corridors, Emily felt as though something had burst
inside of her. Suddenly everything around her was
reeling, her lungs refused to open, her knees shivered,
her fingertips went numb. Then the entire room seemed
to tremble and vibrate. For a moment she saw her mother
rush into view just before everything went black.
**
Emily emerged from her sleep feeling the exact opposite
of the way she had felt before passing out. Peace had
replaced anxiety and the trembling numbness to a
calming warmth. She opened her eyes to realize, though
the faint flicker of a candle at her bedside, that she
was in the bedroom that she shared with Charlotte.
Rachel's bed had been removed years earlier, upon her
marriage, to provide the two remaining sisters with
more room. It was now nighttime and a window was open
in the room to let in the soothing night breeze of the
Spring evening.
Emily lay flat on her back, on top of the blankets
draping her bed. The slight whisper of refreshing wind
along the length of her body told her, without looking,
that she was naked. This surprised Emily as she never
ever slept in the nude, always wearing her night gown
to bed since she was a very small girl. Aside from when
she was bathing, she always wore at least some form of
clothing at every point in the day or night. But the
night breeze felt good when combined with the
surprisingly potent heat from the tiny candle beside
her, which fought valiantly against the invading air.
After a few seconds, Emily sat up in bed, intending to
rise and retrieve a gown hanging in the closet on
Charlotte's side of the room. Upon sitting up, Emily
immediately recognized the silhouette of her mother
sitting in the old chair against the adjacent wall,
next to vanity mirror. It was from that chair that
Catherine Blake had spent so many of her evenings
reading books to her three daughters. Tonight she had
no books and no light to read by. She sat silent,
looking straight ahead at her surprised daughter.
Dressed in a plain, brown dress she often wore at home
with the family but never out of doors or when
entertaining visitors, Mrs. Blake was the same height
as her daughter, about five feet, two inches tall. She
sat sternly upright in the chair, the blue glow of
moonlight tracing the womanly curves of her thirty-
seven year old frame. Catherine's hair was long,
straight, a deep brown interrupted now by several long
streaks of grey, and pulled back into a bun behind her
head.
Her face exuded a silent wisdom all her own, yet glowed
with a youthful pride. Only among company did she wear
make-up, extravagant clothing, or elaborate hairstyles.
Emily had always admired her mother for her honesty and
self-confidence. As Emily's eyes adjusted to the
lighting, she could see a calm but knowing smirk on her
mother's face, the same sort of look Catherine always
gave during Emily's meetings with her suitors.
Emily was embarrassed, but not at being nude in front
of her mother. Since before Emily was born, it had been
a tradition of the Blake women to bathe each other.
Catherine had always bathed her daughters and they had
bathed her and the three sisters all had shared bathing
tubs with each other for most of the days of their
lives. It was a common experience for them, a moment
outside of the world and demands of men, one of the
times at which Emily had always felt most comfortable
and loved.
Nearly as precious to her were the moments after these
rituals, when the girls would line up to have their
mother dry them off, brush their hair, and prepare them
for either bed or a social occasion. It had been only
that very morning, before the visits from Captain Figg
and the Broughtons, that Catherine, Charlotte, and
Emily had shared such a moment together, comfortable in
being women and carefully washing, grooming, perfuming,
and dressing each other.
Still, at this moment, entirely nude on a bed before
the peculiar gaze of her mother, Emily did feel an
embarrassment. She felt more aware of her nakedness,
her body, her womanhood (as opposed to girlhood) than
she had ever felt during the baths. Unlike her older
siblings, Emily did not develop the full, fleshy
breasts that Rachel and Charlotte inherited from their
mother. Nor did she have the overall thickness of the
other three, their perfectly round hips and plump
thighs, their round, curving behinds.
Instead, Emily had always been a frail girl. Her arms
and legs were thin, their only curves being muscle. Her
waist was thin enough so that her father could nearly
wrap a single arm completely around her waist and touch
his fingers to his shoulder. The onset of puberty not
many years earlier had done nothing to give her boney
hips the womanly roundness characteristic of the Blake
women. Only her long, plain brown hair bared any
resemblance to the physical presence of Catherine.
Unlike her mother's olive skin, Emily's was a virginal
white, untouched by the sun yet glowing radiantly in
the beams of moonlight. Never before had Emily Blake
felt so awkwardly naked and vulnerable. Her mother's
eyes seemed to penetrate deep, through her skin,
beneath the bones, into the young girl's heart. Emily
felt as though her mother had discovered a terribly
scandalous secret about her, a indiscretion in the past
which Emily could not specifically recall but seemed to
have always been unconsciously in the back of her mind.
Struggling for words to break the awkward silence,
Emily looked toward the open window and muttered
ashamedly, "I've angered Father again."
Her mother remained silent.
"It's not that I am trying to offend him or even those
men, Mother. It's just... I feel not myself. That I
have so much to live up to in father's eyes that I am
destined to fail."
"You are," were the first words from Catherine's lips.
Emily was taken aback by this. She was not sure if her
mother meant this to expose some gross fault in her or
whether it was a critique of her father's demanding
nature and worship of perfection in social virtue. She
looked dead into her mothers eyes and still could not
get a clear estimation of her mother's meaning. Emily
said nothing until Catherine, recognizing her
daughter's uncertainty, elaborated.
"Your father, like his father before him and his father
before him, expects certain things from a young woman
such as yourself. You are of the age when he judges
that marriage to a worthy suitor should be your primary
concern. He expects you, like your sisters, to join in
these archaic traditions and become a woman acceptable
to his society."
"He is right, mother. It is important to become a good
wife for a man, a woman a man can be proud to have on
his arm. Wives, like Father says, we are the base of
our society." Emily recited these words as she heard
them a dozen times from Samuel Blake's lips. Her life,
to that point, had been an exercise in branding such
keys to morality upon her identity, to mould her into a
proper lady.
This is what she felt her father, and her mother, too,
wanted. Thus Emily was surprised to see an unfamiliar
look of disapproval on Catherine's face.
"Samuel's society is not our society," Catherine said.
She rose from her chair and took one step toward the
foot of Emily's bed, the bottom of the ruffled brown
dress brushing softly on the floor.
Puzzled, Emily felt that her mother was testing her
with a kind of riddle for which Emily could be expected
to have no answer. Her mother's answer was to turn
around, facing the chair, with her back to her
daughter. "Emily, could you please undo my dress."
Emily had undressed her mother countless times before,
preceding the family baths. She did not hesitate to
crawl up onto her knees, scoot to the edge of the bed,
and begin to undo the thin brown strings that tied
together the back of her mother's dress. With the back
of the dress unlaced, Emily casually moved her hands to
her mother's shoulders, sliding the dress down
Catherine's arms and torso. With the dress bunched up
above her hips, Catherine took it upon herself to
remove the rest of the garment. She rolled it down her
hips, revealing her large round buttocks and then
letting the material fall to her ankles.
Emily briefly wondered why her mother was not wearing
the usual undergarments that any woman was expected to
wear beneath her clothing; she had never known her
mother to dress without such clothing. From head to
toes, Catherine Blake was bare, with the exception of
her most comfortable pair of shoes, still strapped
across her feet. Catherine's legs were short, but thick
with flesh, especially in the thighs.
When she bent over to un-strap her shoes, Emily scanned
her mother's golden skin with her own curious eyes. As
long as Emily could remember, her mother's skin always
seemed a luscious tan all over, sun baked in areas that
were never supposed to see the light of day. Had
certain members of society beyond the family known
this, Mrs. Blake's private life would have been the
subject of many unsavory rumors.
Emily had expected her mother to suggest they bathe
together, but somewhere in the back of her mind there
was the thought, maybe even the desire, that her mother
somehow reveal more about what she meant by "our
society." Catherine turned around to face her daughter,
stepping out of the brown dress which lay vacant on the
floor. Now completely nude herself, Catherine's reached
out and drew her unsuspecting 17-year-old daughter into
a tight embrace full of warmth and a soothing passion.
Emily was entirely enveloped by her mother's arms, as
if wrapped in a blanket of love. She felt her mother's
breath sweep naturally over her shoulders, like the
ocean tide caressing an undiscovered beach. She noticed
the amazing heat of her mother's bosom pressed against
her own, flesh against flesh. As Catherine's hands
swept gently up and down Emily's bare back, tickling
the tiny, down-like hairs along her spine, Emily felt
an unfamiliar, fluid heat surge through her limbs, her
belly, her face, and, even stranger, between her legs.
As they embraced, Catherine began to kiss her
daughter's shoulders and run her fingers through
Emily's soft, youthful hair. This had never happened
before, not to Emily, and she froze, not knowing how to
respond or what to expect. But after a few minutes, the
girl relaxed amid her mother's caresses. While she
closed her eyes to savor her mother's nurturing love,
Emily heard Catherine whisper, "I can teach you all
about who you really are. I can show you all the love
in the world and teach you to be a proud woman."
Emily, drowning in an unfamiliar ecstasy, could only
nod her head and breath a wordless reply of yearning.
"I can teach you all these things," continued
Catherine. "But," and she pulled away from Emily now,
looking her straight in the eye, a look of seriousness
in her blue eyes, "you must be mine. You do as I say
and obey my wishes. You listen to my words and let them
guide you, as they did when you were a little girl."
Emily smiled back at her mother.
It seemed to the daughter that she somehow had been
longing to hear these exact words for years. Catherine
placed her hands to the back of Emily's head and drew
her nearer to her own face. Their lips touched only
momentarily and Emily's body seemed to quake with an
involuntary shudder.
She pulled her mouth away out of reflex, as if they had
kissed a painful fire. And yet those lips returned
loyally back to the flame of her mother's love and the
two women fell into a long, soft, but insanely
heartfelt kiss. To Emily, sharing her first romantic
kiss with the mother who had raised her, nurtured her,
and guided her for so many years, the woman she loved,
felt more than appropriate... It felt like destiny.
Her lips parted, Emily felt her mother's tongue pass
between them and massage her own tongue. She did not
expect it, but her hips suddenly jolted against her
mother's own in a primal thrust. Emily had never known
such pleasure, not from a man, a woman, or even
herself. She felt an expanding heat in the pit of her
stomach move downward into her vagina, a tingling surge
of energy until then entirely alien. She returned the
loving kisses with her own tongue and again the pair
fell into an embrace.
Until now, Emily's hands had wrested on the curve of
Catherine's hips, but only because she restrained
another desire. Since childhood, Emily had known the
touch and feel of her mother's breasts. She and her
other sister's had bathed their mother's body hundreds
of times; but never had Emily previously felt this
need, this uncontrollable desire to touch the round,
heaving flesh of her mother's bosom.
Overcome with desire, the daughter began to move her
hands upward along Catherine's body, cupping them in
anticipation. But Emily wondered if this was the true
purpose of her mother's sudden loving caresses and
kisses. How would Catherine react to her own daughter's
sexual fondling? Emily hesitated and her hands froze in
mid-air, four inches from their destination.
Removing her hands from Emily's hair, but still kissing
her deep and lovingly, Catherine grabbed hold of her
daughter's thin, fragile wrists and guided her tiny
hands to her own plentiful flesh. Both women erupted
with involuntary moans, the first uttered sounds in
their lovemaking.
Emily felt a satisfied joy at the feel of her mother's
soft, heavy breasts cupped in her hands. She ran her
fingers around on the skin of Catherine's bosom,
feeling the natural curve and fullness. When Catherine
broke off their prolonged kissing and again looked deep
and inviting into her daughter's eyes, Emily knew she
had the permission she desired. Without being told,
still on her knees on the bed, Emily leant down and
pressed her lips against her mother's right breast. She
felt her mother, still standing at the foot of the bed,
lean in and heard a drawn out, heavy breath escape her
mother's mouth.
Kneading Catherine's flesh with her hands, Emily moved
her kisses over to the left breast, this time pressing
her soft young lips against her mother's nipple. It was
a deep kiss, with a flick of the tongue. Catherine
tensed with the warmth and wetness against her nerves
while Emily smiled slightly at the first time
exchanging such intimacy with a woman.
Her attentions having disappeared completely into the
inviting flesh of an older woman, Emily became aware of
every nerve and sense about her body being stimulated
into awareness. "Lay down, darling," she heard her
mother say and she obeyed. Emily reluctantly drew away,
sliding backward on the bed and lay back on the bed,
her legs extended out and pressed together while her
arms stretched luxuriously across the mattress.
Catherine climbed onto the bed, holding herself above
her daughter with her arms and then slowly lowering
herself down upon her, her bare feet rubbing along the
outside of Emily's legs. The mother's hips began to
grind in rhythmic circles against the abdomen of her
daughter, who felt the steamy moisture from between
Catherine's legs first pool on her stomach and then run
down between her own legs. They kissed for several
minutes and held each other, sighing and breathing
heavy in the thralls of lust.
Catherine broke off their kissing and sat abruptly up,
still grinding her voluptuous hips against Emily. After
awhile she slowly slid off of her daughter's body and
lay down next to her on the bed. Reaching her hand
beneath her daughter's neck, she guided Emily on top of
her. The 17 year old girl rolled over to Catherine's
side of the bed willingly, not sure of what was to come
but hungry for whatever it may be.
"I want you to kiss me," Catherine said and Emily
leaned down toward her mother's inviting mouth. Before
their lips touched, Catherine placed two fingers over
her daughter's mouth and said, "No."
Emily stopped and looked down inquisitively, eager to
please in whatever way possible. Beneath her, she felt
Catherine's legs spread open. She watched as her mother
reached down between her own legs and began caressing
her own vagina. Emily looked back up at her mother's
face, which now shined with a devious smile. Young
Emily had never heard of such a thing as two women
doing the kind of things they had already done, much
less of anything resembling oral sex.
But Emily knew her instructions and sought nothing more
than to display perfect obedience to her mother's
desires. Crawling backward on the bed she laid herself
down upon her stomach between Catherine's opened legs.
Emily's bent her own legs so that they didn't hang off
the edge of the bed. Again she looked at her mother, a
nervous curiosity sweeping through her mind.
She already felt the balmy heat of her mother's
glistening pussy against her face and watched her
mother massage her outer lips, hips rolling ever so
slightly in a circular pattern. Catherine said not a
word, only looking back down at her daughter, who she
knew would fulfill the request.
Hopeful to alleviate some of her own nervousness, Emily
began rubbing her hands up and down her mother's fleshy
thighs, kneading the skin and letting her fingertips
come over so closely to the hairy mound between them.
Meanwhile, she placed the tender kisses of a loving
daughter along Catherine's inner thighs, her tongue
lapping at the skin which was still golden even there
in a most private area.
Finally her hands settled on her own mother's wrists,
and felt them sway up and down inside her grip as her
mother masturbated. Emily's tongue moved to the sweaty
crease of flesh connecting her mother's thigh to her
glistening opening. She savored the salty flavor of her
mother's sweat, taking her time to run circles with her
tongue that continued moving inward toward Catherine's
wet mound.
Both women shuddered at the first touch of Emily's
innocent tongue to Catherine's pink, moist opening.
Catherine had pulled her outer lips open to allow Emily
her first taste of a woman and the first touch of
Emily's lower lip to her clitoris sent a jolt through
Catherine's legs that shook the mattress.
Simultaneously, the first firey taste of pussy to
Emily's mouth caused her to pull back in shock. But
slowly the tongue returned, touching gently at first,
as if testing the waters and then dove back in with
long, caressing strokes up and down across Catherine's
soft, glistening opening. Soon the once unfamiliar
taste seemed a pleasure and the girl could feel the
sensations of lustful hunger pulsing within her own
vagina.
But a good daughter always obeys and Emily had to think
of her mother first. She could feel all the muscle in
Catherine's body pushing down through the hips, against
Emily's face. Pleased to have her mother's warm love
juices spread around her face and dripping off of her
chin, Emily seemed to instinctively know what to do. A
good, innocent daughter to the end, Emily had never
once masturbated in all her life.
The pleasures of sexuality and the body had always been
off limits to young girls of her upbringing and she
feared the punishment of God if she entertained the
urge to touch herself in supposedly inappropriate
areas. But through the gasps and heaving movements of
her mother, Emily eventually found a tiny, swelled
button of flesh not far above Catherine's tasty
opening.
The first time she let her tongue stray there, Emily
felt her mother's hips shiver rapidly. Briefly
returning to lap at Catherine's pussy lips, Emily
decided to try once more at the pink nub above. Again
her mother quaked, this time gasping for breath with an
audible sigh. Emily stayed there, circling Catherine's
swollen clitoris with her tongue in a swirling rhythm
that had her mother gasping, shifting, and grinding out
of control.
Most erotic for Emily was the sound of her mother's
voice panting, rapidly taking in and releasing breath
in the thralls of ecstasy. She felt as if she and her
mother had become one being, as the moving of Emily's
tongue, the pulsating of Catherine's hips, and
Catherine's spastic, short breaths seem to all move
along the same heart-beat like rhythm toward a
magnificent crescendo. Emily's young hands held loosely
onto her mother's hips, rolling with them as they
rocked and shook across the bed sheets.
Suddenly Emily felt her mother's hips shoot quickly
into the air and Emily rose her head up with it,
continuing to press her tongue against her mother's
clit. As Catherine shuddered through a long, ecstatic
orgasm, her hips vibrated with an unconscious tremor
against her daughter's face. Emily continued to lap and
circle and kiss in the same pattern and a beast-like
squeal suddenly escaped from somewhere deep inside of
Catherine and whispered from open mouth, a sound Emily
had never heard before.
Catherine's hips fell abruptly back onto the bed
sheets, grinding in a softer, gentler pattern now.
Still Emily licked her mother's beautiful vagina.
Catherine, her body still shivering with the effects of
the orgasm, ran her fingers through Emily's hair and,
after a few minutes, pulled her head up for a long
kiss. Both women moaned with the pleasurable taste of
Catherine's pussy as it passed between their lips.
As they kissed, Catherine rolled so that she was now on
top of her daughter. They writhed and twisted and
hugged and intertwined for an eternity on the bed. The
feel of Catherine's flesh rubbing against her body made
Emily shudder at times, her legs jolting up and hooking
around her mother's thighs. Suddenly Catherine lifted
her head up to look down at her daughter.
Emily's eyes were half-closed, inebriated with a
narcotic sexuality. Her forehead glistened with sweat
and her hair spilled across the entirety of her pillow.
Her mouth opened in closed with slow, drawn out,
wordless breaths that Catherine understood all too
well. So it was left to Catherine to speak.
"Do you understand, now, some of what your true nature
really is?" the mother asked, running her left hand
gently along the top of Emily's hair.
"I am your daughter," replied Emily, "completely,
forever." She paused and then, opening her eyes and
looking dead into her mother's eyes with a confidence
she had not been able to muster since childhood, said,
"I love you."
Emily had said such words to Catherine countless time
before. Yet this time there was a fuller meaning, a
deeper understanding that made them more valuable, like
a seed grown into the fully bloomed rose. Catherine
smiled contentedly back. "I love you, too," she said.
Catherine let both of her hands slide down the sides of
her daughter's slim, milk-white torso. She could feel
the gentle inward curve at the waist and, further down,
the boney expansion of a young girl's hips. She held
firmly onto Emily's hips and, looking into her
daughter's peaceful eyes, lifted the hips and began to
turn them over.
Emily rolled the rest of her body in obedience and,
again at the suggestion of her mother's hands, lifted
her hips into the air so that her knees were tucked up
under her belly and her buttocks were raised and spread
slightly apart before her mother. Emily wrested her
elbows and forearms on the pillow beneath her. She had
no idea what her mother intended to teach her next, but
knew that she never before felt so much trust and love
for another person in her young life.
Catherine knelt on the bed, her knees on either side of
Emily's feet. Reaching forward, she ran both hands down
the crease of her daughter's backbone. Emily's skin was
as smooth as it was pale, unblemished by hardship and
glowing with moonlit innocence. Catherine's hands
rounded slowly over the rump of her daughter's butt and
paused there, sliding instead inward, to trace the
soft, untouched skin between her buttocks.
Emily felt two fingers begin at the base of her spine
and slide slowly, sensually down over her anus and
further still down to her own wet pussy lips, which the
fingers preceded to caress; gently at first and then
with a steady, purposeful pressure.
As her mother's fingers parted her outer labia, Emily
let her head fall against the pillow. She had never
even dared touched herself in such a way and the thrill
of sexual awakening echoed through her every fiber of
her skin. She pushed back with her hips to open herself
more to her mother's fondling and reveal a full view
over her privates for her mother's enjoyment. Her head
buried in the pillow, Emily could not see her mother,
but she could feel Catherine's fingers begin to press
inside her vagina.
A virgin, Emily had never experienced penetration
before, but she no longer had a hymen and Catherine's
fingers began to probe deeper. Emily, long fearful of
the pain of the first time having sex, was surprised to
feel only increasing pleasure as she felt herself
opened by the first intrusion of her mother's middle
finger.
Having inserted the middle finger of her right hand,
Catherine began rotating her wrist in half-circle
twists inside of the teenager's pussy. She smirked with
delight at watching her own daughter's spine twist and
arch with each swirl of the hand. Emily was quiet,
barely breathing, but Catherine knew this was only a
signal of the pleasure the girl was feeling at that
moment. She knew the desire to focus on every movement,
every flutter, and every touch when young and
inexperienced.
When she slid the ring finger on the same hand inside
as well, so that Emily now had two of her mother's
fingers inside of her, Catherine began a pumping in-
and-out motion, with the palm down, running the tips of
her experienced fingers over the still swelling g-spot
not far inside Emily's dampening hole. With her left
hand, Catherine massaged her own pussy, which still
dripped from the moisture of her daughter's kisses
earlier in their love-making.
Emily could not believe the sensations rushing through
her. Her brain seemed overcome with a fuzzy, delirious
tingle. So much of her body had gone numb with
pleasure, and yet she could feel every erotic detail of
the movements and sensations along the interior of her
vagina as her mother's gentle strokes continued to
pulse in and out of the girl's petite body.
Catherine wondered if Emily even noticed that she was
involuntarily rocking back and forth, fucking her
mother's fingers. The older woman began to see now the
signs of impending orgasm in her daughter, signs that
Emily had no way of seeing even in herself. Catherine
watched with pride for her daughter as she saw the
first tremors along Emily's spine and heard the
instinctive gasps for air. Emily's hips swirled now in
a rapid circle and pressed all the way down to the end
of Catherine's fingers. Catherine could see her toes
curl and her legs begin to shake.
Emily was having the first orgasm of her life. As it
happened, she knew only that she was experiencing an
explosion of sensations through the body and brain that
she wished would continue forever. She bit into the
pillow like an animal, as if natural pleasure had
brought out some primal truth, some awakening of a
beast inside of herself.
Listening to the pillow-muffled sighs of her daughter,
Catherine continued caressing the inside of Emily's
pussy with her two fingers as the orgasm subsided. Her
other hand remained between her own legs, still
massaging her own wet pussy. As Emily's body relaxed
into a peaceful afterglow, yet another feeling she had
never known, Catherine leaned forward, removing her
hand from her own pussy and inserted the fingers,
slippery with Catherine's pussy juice, into her
daughter's mouth.
Emily willingly opened her mouth and closed her young
lips around the fingers, running her tongue up and down
the length to lap up the wonderful taste of her
mother's body. Having felt the fingers of Catherine's
other hand leave her pussy, Emily rolled over, still
sucking on her mother's juices, and looked up at the
older woman longingly. Catherine was licking Emily's
pussy fluid off of her other hand, making sure not to
miss a drop.
Emily wrapped her legs around her mother's hips,
resting her soft, tiny feet against the bountiful flesh
of her mother's buttocks. She pulled in close and
Catherine bent down so that her body was elevated only
slightly above that of her daughter. Emily could feel
her mother's long nipples rubbing on her stomach and
the sensation reawakened her sexual passions again. The
pair engaged in a long kiss, exchanging body fluids and
sighing with each flicker of the tongue and pressing of
the lips.
In between kisses, Emily told Catherine that she loved
her and that she wanted to stay like this forever. "I
am yours, Mother," she continued, "and you have taught
me my true pleasures and place in life."
Catherine kissed Emily again and then, taking her lips
away, said, "No. You know so little, darling. Your
training is far from over and you will not be truly
loyal until you complete your lessons." Emily was
stunned. She could imagine no scenario where she would
betray her mother and break their bond. She wanted
desperately to prove this.
"Mother," whispered Emily between long, sexual breaths,
"I am. I am. I am yours completely. Nothing can break
us apart. My love for you is undying and forever and I
will never serve another in the way that I serve you. I
will do anything you ask. Anything."
"You still have much to learn, Emily" Catherine
replied. "Things which you cannot yet begin to fathom,
but things you will have to learn." Emily's only
response was to hug her mother, bringing their nude
bodies tightly against each other.
Minutes later, Emily finally spoke. "I want to learn
more now, Mother. I will do as you instruct." At this,
Catherine rose once more, supporting herself with her
arms and letting the ends of her long, brown hair fall
flutter over Emily's shoulders. She had a look in her
eyes that looked almost like distrust, as if she were
judging various possibilities about Emily. Emily stared
back, an honest, questioning look in her own eyes.
Finally Catherine ordered her daughter to get up from
the bed and stand at the bedside. Emily obeyed and
watched as her mother moved to the bed's edge and
rolled over so that her hips hung over the edge, her
legs hanging toward the floor. Catherine moved her
hands to her rear and spread her buttocks open,
revealing her anus to her daughter's view. Emily
immediately blushed and looked away. But, overcome with
a bizarre temptation, looked down at her mother.
Between the mounds of flesh and tiny hairs lay the
button-sized opening of Catherine's ass. It looked soft
to Emily, almost inviting.
Suddenly Emily became aware, without being told, of
what it was her mother wanted. She took one step closer
and then knelt, putting her knees together between
Catherine's feet. Slowly and hesitantly, Emily brought
both of her hands together and pressed her fingers
against her mother's asshole. She began to massage it
and was quite curious to feel the soft contours of the
hole. It was not wet, like the vagina, but still had an
inviting warmth. Emily brought her head close and
pressed her face between her mother's buttocks, taking
her first lick of asshole.
She did not know what to expect and really tasted very
little, it was actually the softness of the anus, how
it bent under the press of her tongue, that made
Emily's pussy wet again. She licked again and again,
with longer strokes each time. Soon she was rolling her
tongue in circles around the circumference of her
mother's butt hole, noticing that it contracted with
each of her mother's gasps. Catherine pulled her ass
even further apart to allow for Emily to bury her head
deeper in her ass.
Emily moved her tongue down into the hole, pressing
slightly with her fingers to allow her tongue a brief
entry into the pink interior of Catherine's butt. The
taste was salty and exotic, tempting Emily to continue.
Using both finger's she pulled her mother's asshole
open slightly, hearing Catherine gasp at the stretching
sensation. Emily then pressed her tongue deeper into
Catherine and tickled the anus walls, about an inch
inside, with the tip of her tongue. She felt a sudden
joy at having discovered yet another way to serve her
mother.
Having moved her hands down to her pussy, Catherine was
masturbating as her daughter ate her asshole out.
Within two minutes she had had her first orgasm and a
second came just thirty seconds later. When a third
orgasm was completed a few minutes later, Catherine
rose to her feet. She was surprised to see that Emily
did not stop licking, but rather continued to tongue
Catherine's butt even as Catherine stood up. Catherine
had to turn around to signal Emily to stop. The
daughter remained on her knees, looking up at her
mother with a new smile, not one of innocent love but
one of experienced knowledge, someone a step closer to
a confident knowledge of her true worth and desires.
Catherine her knees to bring her face just above
Emily's, giving her daughter a loving kiss and tasting
her own ass on Emily's lips. "You're a good girl,"
Catherine said. "But still your lessons are not over.
We are done for the night. It is late and I must return
to my bed chamber before the servants discover me
missing and disturb Samuel."
Catherine then got a very serious look on her face and
said with a tone of caution, "You must never tell
Samuel or anyone else of our lessons tonight. Their
society does not except who we are and does not allow
us to live as we are. In time, through my instruction,
you will become a full woman, part of a tradition
others seek to destroy." Emily looked confused, not
understanding why she must hide the reasons for her
happiness from those who care for her. "This is
important," Catherine continued. "Your and our
survival, and the survival of our love, depends on
this."
Still confused, but feeling sure of her devotion, Emily
replied that she would obey without condition. They
shared one last goodnight kiss and Catherine tucked her
daughter into her bed. Emily Blake rose the next
morning an awakened woman, passionate and hungry to
learn the pleasures of life from the guidance and
tutelage of her loving mother.
To be continued?
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 44