MOTHERS & DAUGHTERS: QUINTESSA & ROSA (edited) by Ike Man

This is a bestial story.

This is a story around a mother, Quintessa (Tess) and her daughter, Rosa. Quintessa is 39 and Rosa is 18. Both women have dark hair. Quintessa’s hair is black and long while Rosa’s is a dark brunette and shoulder length. They are both about 5’ 5” tall and trim figures. Quintessa’s breasts are a still firm B-cup and Rosa’s are a youthful firm C-cup. Both have kept their pussies clean shaven.

Quintessa’s hair and facial features reflect her Latin ancestry, which was a major attraction for Rosa’s father when they met in college. Quintessa was an only child to older second-generation immigrant parents who had “made it” by securing available, depressed farm land and adding to what her grandparents had started. When she married Rosa’s father after they graduated from college, she had every intention of living the middle-class, suburban life with professional careers. That all came crashing down when they divorced shortly after Rosa’s birth and she was threatened to never try to contact the girl. She survived only by returning to the family farm and throwing herself into it with an obsession after her older parents wanted to retire and move closer to other family near the city.

Rosa’s father was raised in a very conservative religious family. Quintessa’s fiery, earthy spirit had been enticing to the young man whose experiences had been constricted his entire life. His ***********ion of a wife was the source of persistent trouble and dissent with his family and may have been doomed from the beginning. He had mistakenly seen her fiery spirit that might somehow be experienced while somehow molded into the constrictive religious life he knew. Her attitudes toward sex, and later “perversions” of sex, were ignored until he caught her … sex with the dog was too much. The conservative laws of the state could have put her in jail, humiliated the family, and put a stigma on the family for years. Rosa was raised in the kind of religious strict environment, like her father, along with four other siblings by a second wife who conformed to the same practices.

Rosa hadn’t known about Quintessa. Rosa’s name had been a mystery to her. Why did she have a Latin name when her siblings had vanilla names? Why did she have such a different, fiery spirit that chaffed at the religious chains they attempted to constrain her with? When she rejected the abstinence oath, found a source for birth control pills, and became sexually active, she finally heard the words, “You’re nothing but a perversion to God like your mother!” Her mother? Then her ‘mother’ wasn’t her father’s wife? Then who is her mother?

MOTHERS & DAUGHTERS: QUINTESSA & ROSA

The phone chimed as Quintessa was busy preparing her dinner. Having been alone for so long, she had become proficient at preparing small dinners, not that they took much less time to prepare. She grabbed her cell phone from the counter absent-mindedly without looking at the screen. “Hello?”

“Mom?”

Quintessa laughed heartily, “Girl, do you ever have the wrong number.” She punched the key to end the call. Mere moments later, her phone chimed, again. She looked at the number this time and didn’t recognize it. “Yes?”

“Mom, it me, Rosa.”

“No …” She abruptly ended the call. When a moment later, her phone chimed, again, she let it go. Eventually, it stopped. Because her hands were often busy on the farm, she didn’t have her phone set to go to voice mail after only a few rings. So, it took a while. At least it seemed to. But the phone chimed, again. It was the same number.

Before she could say anything, she heard the girl’s voice, again. “Mom … is this Quintessa Sanchez?”

“Yes. Is this really you, Rosa? If it is, I can’t talk to you.”

“Mom, it is me. And, you can talk to me. I turned 18. I just graduated from high school. I’m leaving this place. I hate it. I hate them.”

“Well, girl, if you’re my daughter, I ‘d tell you not to hate people. Hate isn’t something you want to wrap around you.”

“I understand, but … I’ve looked so long for you.”

“How did you find me? Certainly, your father didn’t help.”

Rosa laughed, “No … when they took away my internet privileges, it got harder but …”

“Wait, they took … why did they do that?”

Rosa sighed deeply, “Sex … God, these people are backwards. Do you know they have a chastity vow you’re supposed to make?”

“Did you?”

“No! How Medieval is that, anyway? I found my own birth control pills and they found them. I had to tell them I was having sex. That’s when it really hit the fan.”

“Then how did you find me without the internet?”

“Genealogy or at least that’s what I called it. They took away my internet and they thought I might be coming around when I started spending hours at the library.”

“They didn’t realize libraries have computers and the internet?”

Rosa chuckled, “Apparently not. In his rage, dad dropped little things about you because you were clearly the source of my wickedness. I added them all together, including your name, that was a real mistake for dad. One of the librarians was very helpful. I think she was excited to find a young person so interested in tracing roots. She was the one who got me into the records of land ownership in your state. Then, I just went county by county. Like I said, it took a while. I had to find the marriage license for you and dad to get your last name. When I found you, I had to trace back for a birth certificate to be sure, then trace back property to your parents and theirs. When I had all that, I was sure. Then I paid a site to get you phone number and address. I even found you on Google Earth.”

“So, you know I own a farm. You’ve spent your life in the city.”

“I found you. I want to see you. I want to talk. Maybe … who knows … isn’t it worth the chance?”

Quintessa sighed. It’s been what? About 16 years? “Yes, it’s worth the chance. Rosa … I never stopped wondering about you. I’m sorry …”

They talked regularly after that. Rosa would spend more time at the library but now she sat on the bench just inside the door and talk to the mom she hoped to meet and get to know. It finally happened, too. Quintessa finally agreed but Rosa had to make the decision and take the action. She couldn’t go there and bring her back. She didn’t know what Rosa’s father might do if that happened. Instead, Rosa would have to take the step herself to tell them she was leaving. She could fib about where she was going, but she had to do it. That way it would be her decision fully. If she took the step, though, there would be an open ticket at the bus station waiting for her.

Days later, when Quintessa got another call from Rosa telling her she was on the bus, her hands shook. She was finally really going to be with her daughter, again.

Quintessa stood outside the little bus station in the closest town with one, nearly two hours from the farm. The bus was late but she was told that wasn’t unusual, sometimes they were early and sometimes they were late. She shifted on her feet from one to the other, she wandered around the building inside and out and looked at the big clock for about the millionth time. Then she heard it, then she saw it as it lumbered down the town street, the largest thing the street might experience besides one of the tractors at harvest time or a semi-truck hauling out the grain.

When the door opened and the driver put the step down, she stood more anxious than she had for anything in a very long time. Then she saw her. How could she know, but she did. Rosa looked the way she imagined she would. The young woman stepping down from the bus looked like her. Not exactly like her, but ‘like’ her … like a daughter to her mother.

The same thing happened to Rosa. She had gathered her stuff into her backpack as the bus rumbled through the town. When it pulled to the side of the street in front of the little building, she craned her head to see, but they were too high and too many other passengers were milling around, though few were likely to be getting off except to stretch their legs at the stop. As she stepped down from the bus, she saw her standing next to the building on the other side of the sidewalk. Dark long hair, big hoop earrings, wearing a loose peasant-style blouse and skirt. But it was mostly her face … the olive skin, the dark eyes, and the mouth. As she had investigated her background, found her mom’s last name, Sanchez, she knew she was Latin, now she could see it.

They hugged like each was trying to pull their two bodies into one. They gathered Rosa’s two large suitcases and wheeled them to the parking lot where they stopped at a large, dust covered pickup. Quintessa hefted one into the back like a bale of hay. Rosa stood and marveled at this attractive woman’s easy strength and movement.

Quintessa noticed and smiled, “The farm is hard work.” She stood in front of her new-found daughter and put her hands on her shoulders before attacking the second case. “If you decide you can stay, you’ll find the days long and full … but the joys from the life are immense, simple, and pure.” They hugged again before the two of them muscling the largest case into the truck bed.

The two hours in the truck through the countryside was filled with talk between them. Sometimes it was Rosa marveling at the landscape, the fields of corn and soybeans, the cows, horses, and cattle, and the distances between farmsteads. A lot of the time it was Quintessa asking for details about Rosa’s growing up, her experiences, more information about why she ‘hated’ her life. A quiet settled inside the cab as Quintessa began taking more turns from state road to county to township, from paved to gravel roads and miles of dust raised behind them like a rooster tail of water from a speeding boat.