Delivery

Did he want me to find them? Why? What would be the point? she wondered.

She was having a full-blown discussion in her head when a knock came to the door.

“Catherine?” her mother asked loudly.

“What?” she responded rudely.

“When you’re done, I want to talk with you,” she responded.

She knew that phrase and especially that tone. It hadn’t changed since her first memories of childhood.

She doesn’t want to talk with me. She wants to talk at me, she thought as she turned the water off.

It was as if time went backward and she was a child again dreading an imminent lecture. She opened the door and looked both ways. She didn’t put it past her mother to be waiting just outside the door. When the coast was clear, she darted to her room. She kicked her previous clothing into the corner and put on her pajama pants and one of her husband’s t-shirts she packed in the haste of getting her things together.

She drifted out to where the debauchery took place earlier and there was no sign of her mother. There was no sign that anything out of the ordinary took place at all. Hunger struck her and she began to look for the pizza that was ordered. In the middle of her search, a voice came from the hall.

“If you’re looking for the pizza, it’s in the fridge. There’re a few slices missing. The poor boy expended a lot of energy and still had half his shift left.”

Catherine was not in the mood to hear about the man who fucked her mother while she watched. Her mother’s voice soothed her, though. She smiled lightly while the slice of pizza heated up in the microwave. Her mother approached her from behind and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Will you talk about it?” she asked.

“Yes. Let me get this warmed up and we’ll talk.”

Denise went to the couch and waited. Finally, her daughter sat next to her with a half-eaten piece of pizza on a small paper plate.

“What are you thinking,” Denise asked.

Catherine met her mother’s eyes and hesitated before speaking.

“This is going to be hard for me, but I don’t want to beat around the bush.”

“Well,” Denise said with a smirk on her face, “it’s kind of hard when all you have down there is a small and well-trimmed landing strip.”

Catherine was mildly amused but stomped her foot on the floor to bring her mother back to the serious side of the conversation.

“Mom, I’m serious!”

Denise put her soft hand on her daughter’s knee and told her, “I know. I won’t interrupt.”

“I have to imagine that considering all that happened in this room today that there won’t be any judgment about what I’m going to tell you?” she asked.

Denise used a finger to make a cross on her chest without speaking a word.

“I suppose after what you told me and ultimately showed me, I guess it would be hypocritical for you to be judgmental toward me, huh?” Catherine stated.

Denise began to get impatient. She nudged her daughter and informed her, “You’re delaying.”

“I know,” Catherine whispered. She took a deep breath and committed to letting it all out. “I’ve had this fantasy for a long time. In it, my legs are wide open, and a woman’s head is between them. My hand is on her head, clenching a handful of hair. She licks and sucks me better than any man ever had. I mean, I’ve not allowed many to go down on me before, but that’s not the point.”

Catherine kept talking and was oblivious to her mother’s hand traveling slowly up her thigh. Denise caressed her daughter as she listened to her fantasy. Catherine spoke about it in every possible detail she could remember. It took a while before she realized her mother’s fingers were teasingly close to her pussy.

“Mom, what are you doing?” she asked, staring down between her legs.

“I’m going to show you something. Keep talking,” she replied.

Catherine continued with her description while her mother’s fingers gently caressed her outer lips. Catherine sucked in a quick breath, closed her eyes and tossed her head back.

“No! Don’t do that. Talk to me,” Denise said.

“I can’t while you do that,” Catherine responded.

“Yes, you can. Why do you think you do that?” she asked as her fingers continued to stimulate her daughter’s sensitive area.

“I can’t cum unless I focus,” she said.

Denise knew her daughter would behave that way. She shook her head and attempted to teach her daughter differently.

“What I’m doing is not about you having an orgasm,” she said. “Does this feel good?”

Catherine nodded.

“Good, then feel good while you continue to talk to me.”

Catherine continued her recollection while her mother stimulated her. She spoke in broken breaths and caught up words. She recognized that the fingers toying with her clit were making her feel amazing, but she had a hard time focusing.

“Why are you toying with me like this?” Catherine asked.

“Sex isn’t always about having an orgasm, sweetie. You can walk around all day, living your life and nothing you’ll encounter will make you feel like this. Why not sit back and enjoy the feeling? That brings me to the next concept. Is it the feeling you’re experiencing or is it the person giving you those feelings?”

Catherine didn’t know what to say. Her mother’s fingers had drifted inside her and were wreaking havoc inside her body. All the wrong signals were being sent to all the right places. Despite her mother’s lesson, she found it difficult to speak. Denise recognized the difficulty and decided to approach the problem with the next possible step. She pushed a second finger inside her daughter and focused on providing her a second orgasm.

“What do you think about this?” she asked Catherine. “Will you cum soon?”

“Almost…” Catherine grunted.

Within seconds, her body shook uncontrollably. She was experiencing the second coming of an orgasm that she had never felt before.

“Fuck…. Mom, fuck! Mom, fuck!” she repeated over and over.

Her body eventually calmed and she exhaled loudly.

“How do you make me cum so hard?” she asked.

“Well, I’m a woman. I know how to please myself thus I know how to please almost any other woman, extra kinks not included.”

Catherine caught her breath and slumped further into the couch.

“Are you disappointed that the woman in your fantasy was me?” Denise asked.

Catherine looked to her mother and saw an angelic face. She sat up, leaned toward her mother and pressed her lips against hers. They kissed passionately for a couple minutes before Denise broke the connection.

“Tell me, Catherine, what do you think about kissing me? What do you think about me making you have two orgasms in the same night? Two powerful orgasms which appear to be the peak of what you’ve ever experienced.”

Catherine sulked once again and thought deeply about how to respond.

“Mom, I don’t know about any of this. I like it! I mean… I love it! I love what you’re able to do to me. I just don’t know why all of this is happening. I also very much don’t know how to feel about having sex with you.”

Denise put her hand on her daughter’s cheek.

“Dear, what do you think I’m trying to do here?” her mother asked.

Catherine had no idea how to respond to that question. When no response was provided in a reasonable amount of time, Denise took over.

“I’m trying to teach you something that your father was never able to learn. Human sexual contact is different than all other sexual contact in the entire animal kingdom. I touch you like this,” she said as her hand traveled up her daughter’s leg again, “because I can please you without being in love with you. I love you, no doubt but I don’t have to be in love with you to fondle, caress or otherwise show you sexual attention. People can fuck and suck without care of who it is. Sure, there’s precautions to take, but the identity of the person is negligible at best!”

Catherine was about to speak when her mother jumped to answer her daughter’s obvious question.

“The identity, love, not the relationship. You could put aside our lifelong relationship and enjoy me as a woman as I do you,” she said softly. “I’m always gonna be your mom. I can also be your private female lover.”

Catherine understood what was happening. Her mother was trying to show that her thoughts toward sex were superior to those of her father. That would translate to her own relationship and how she viewed her husband’s sexuality versus her own.

“Did he cheat on me because I was a prude?” Catherine asked near tears.

“Baby, he didn’t cheat on you,” her mother stated bluntly.

Catherine sat up straight.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“He didn’t cheat on you. Those pink panties you found were mine and I gave them to him,” she confessed.

“Yours!” Catherine shouted. “Why would you do that?”

“I pressed him one day to tell me why he had changed from being a carefree soul to what he had become; a workaholic who cared about little else. He told me about the sex. It filled the void, but it wasn’t fun, Catherine. A couple of your age should be having fun in everything you do, including sex!”

Catherine’s eyes moved side to side as she replayed several of their more recent sexual episodes. Her experiences that day opened her eyes to what would be obvious to any outsider.

“It was bland, Mom. I always laid on my side and slid my panties down just enough for him to fuck me then pulled them back up as soon as he was done.”

“Did you ever enjoy it?” her mother asked.

“Well, yes, but that was all I needed to do to enjoy it,” she replied.

“Imagine what could happen if any room in your house could turn into your bedroom whenever the moment struck. What could happen if you allowed his fingers to be extensions of his cock?”

Catherine recognized her faults in that statement but failed to comprehend how her mother providing herself as a female lover for the time being accomplished anything. She asked her mother for the answer.

“Baby, I don’t think you would have come around if you had been steered to simply fuck another man to get it out of your system. Me being your lover even just for a moment probably opened your eyes more than anything else could. The question, though, is would you open your legs for me ever again?” Denise asked with a smile.

Catherine grinned back at her mother. A different concept entered her mind that she’d not previously explored.