Read English Novel
8
Whether by luck or judgement, she found her mother’s g-spot straight away. A surge of delicious, erotic depravity coursed through Fiona’s pussy, she let out a deep growl and came hard at the touch of her daughter’s incestuous fingers. Annabelle probed the same spot and made her come again, almost as soon as she’d finished her first orgasm. The deeply depraved sense of immorality had magnified Fiona’s sexual arousal, she felt as though she would never stop coming for her daughter.
“Oh Annie, darling, that was wonderful, please make me come again.”
“I will mother, but not just yet.”
The case was the first item on the news programme. Annabelle spoke to her mother as they watched footage of a reporter discussing the outcome with the newsreader.
“You’ll be on in a moment; you were magnificent.”
“Oh God Annie, fuck me again please.”
Annabelle knew that the reading of the statement was about to be televised again, so she knelt on the settee, between her mother’s legs, pushed the hem of her miniskirt up to her hips, and buried her face in her mother’s pussy. Fiona watched herself on the tv as her daughter licked her with her long wet tongue, and pushed the middle finger of her right hand into her cunt.
She watched through half closed eyelids, the camera closed in on her and her client as they stood together on the steps. With her daughter’s tongue and fingers bringing her close, she listened to her own assertive voice coming out of the tv’s speakers, but it was soon drowned out by her moans and groans as her third orgasm surged through her pelvis. As she came, she watched her daughter’s head moving rhythmically between her thighs, and she imagined her own head between the stocking clad legs of her client, after she’d laid her flat on her back on her desk.
Fiona was left almost spent, her third intense orgasm in five minutes, together with the effects of the alcohol that she had consumed, left her tired and sleepy. Annabelle helped her up from the settee in her heels, stockings and miniskirt. They climbed the stairs to Annabelle’s bedroom and she sat Fiona on the bed. Her mother slumped onto her side, her legs dangling over the edge of the bed, so Annabelle unzipped and removed her skirt. Then she rolled Fiona onto her back while she carefully unclipped her six suspender straps and rolled her stockings down to her knees. Next, she unclipped and removed her suspender belt, before taking off her stilettos and stockings.
She managed to manoeuvre her fully mother onto the bed and cover her with the quilt, then she got into bed with her. The pulling, prodding and pushing had awoken Fiona slightly, she put her arms around her daughter and spoke quietly into her ear.
“Darling, what you did to me downstairs was sensational, but I haven’t made you come yet.”
“That’s okay mother, you can look forward to making me come tomorrow, go to sleep now.”
“No, it’s not fair on you, let me make you come now,” said Fiona as she stroked her daughter’s pussy for the first time.
“Okay mother, if you’re up to it, but I want your tongue as well as your fingers.”
Fiona slid down underneath the quilt and spread her daughter’s legs wide. She licked and sucked her pussy as she finger fucked her wet cunt. Annabelle had been consumed by incestuous lust all evening, it didn’t take long before she arched her back and savoured her first orgasm at the hands, and tongue, of her mother.
Fiona, satisfied that all was right with the world, emerged from underneath the quilt and kissed her daughter on the lips. Annabelle tasted herself on her mother, then Fiona fell into a deep, drunken sleep.Upstodatee from Novel(D)ra/m/a.O(r)g
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Saturday 22nd October 2022: almost 9. 20 am
Annabelle became concerned about her mother’s reaction to the knowledge that they had fucked each other the night before. She tapped on the bathroom door and called her name; there was no response. She tried the door handle but it was locked, she called out again.
“Mother, please open the door, I’ve got a driving lesson at ten-thirty and I need to get ready.”
After a short pause, the door opened slightly and her mother peered sheepishly through the gap.
“Are you alright, you do remember what we did last night don’t you? I mean you were the worse for drink, but you must remember surely.”
“I can’t talk about it now, my head’s throbbing, I’m going to get into my bed; just let me sleep.”
“Okay, well I’ll see you later this afternoon, I’m meeting some old school friends for lunch so I’ll be back by about fourish. Do you want me to get you anything?”
“Just a glass of water please, and paracetamol,” said Fiona as she made her way unsteadily to her own bed.
“Okay, but just tell me, are you angry with me?”
“No, I just need to sleep.” She put on a pair of pyjamas and got into bed, she was asleep again before Annabelle put a glass of water, and the tablets, on her bedside cabinet.
It was almost noon when Fiona eventually awoke. She took several gulps of water with the tablets, got to her feet, and put on her dressing gown. As she made her way downstairs, she studiously avoided looking at any mirrors; she didn’t want to see her shame faced reflection as she tried to make sense of what had happened between her and her daughter.
She was on her second cup of strong black coffee before she began to feel human again. She’d begun to piece together the events of the previous night, she recalled being pursued across the kitchen by Annabelle, being pushed up against the freezer door, and the feel of her daughter’s tongue in her mouth. Then she remembered her daughter’s tongue on her pussy as she watched herself on tv. An ever deeper memory surfaced when she recalled going down on Annabelle in her bed. She could smell and taste her again now, a sweet salty flavour that sent her pussy into spasms as she drained the last of her coffee.
As the fug of her hangover began to lift, she started to recall drinking and celebrating in the pub with her colleagues. She wondered if anyone had messaged her, so she picked up her phone and saw that she had several new WhatsApp messages. Two of them were from married men she knew who wanted to go for a ‘drink’ with her; she deleted them both. As she read through the other messages of congratulations, and queries about her state of health, after such a heavy session, she spotted last night’s messages from Sylvie DuPont and from her client.
Fiona couldn’t remember exchanging messages with either of them, so she opened Sylvie’s first and felt a warm glow of satisfaction at being pursued by her for sex. She decided to let her stew a few days more, before casually getting in touch, and feigning indifference to her advances. She knew that, if she played her cards right, Sylvie would eventually come to her, desperate to put her scent mark on her again. This time she’d have the upper hand, and would ride her former lover with her own strap on cock. Sylvie had always worn the strap on previously but now the tables had turned; she couldn’t wait to look down at the gorgeous bitch’s face as she fucked her brains out.
Then she opened the thread of messages between herself and her client. She was shocked, the colour rose in her cheeks, she’d practically made love to the woman on her phone last night, and she’d more or less arranged to fuck her when they met for a post trial discussion. Her shock turned to amusement, when she realised that they both must have been pretty drunk last night, but she couldn’t help wondering if she still had a realistic chance of getting the woman into bed with her.
She made a mental note to ask her secretary to arrange a meeting for mid Friday afternoon, so that, if the prevailing mood was right, she could suggest to her client that they continue the meeting somewhere more ‘comfortable’ than her office.
Fiona started to relax and revel in her new found notoriety, she was surprised at the extent to which it had acted as an aphrodisiac, both for her, and for the numerous men and women who now wanted to know her carnally. She thought about her daughter and began to relive the events of the previous night as she recalled more of the detail. She remembered again the moment in which her resistance, to Annabelle’s incestuous pursuit, had crumbled. It was when her daughter had pressed her fingers into her miniskirt and probed her pussy. It had been intensely arousing and erotic; complete surrender was her only option.
As she was thinking about her overwhelming desire to be fucked by her daughter, she switched on the tv and found the BBC News Channel. She only had to wait a moment and, as she had hoped, it started to show reports of the court case. There she was again on the steps, speaking into the massed microphones, there was her client looking serious and emotional; Fiona’s pussy leaked at the thought of fucking her. Why shouldn’t she? They were both consenting adults.
She turned the phrase over in her mind, ‘consenting adults,’ is that what she and Annabelle were? She liked to think so, even though she knew that society would take a different view. But society didn’t have to find out about their incest. She started to long for her daughter, she was certain now that they would share a bed again, today, tomorrow and every day.
A surge of love and desire for her daughter swept through her. She needed to prepare for her coming home. She wanted to dress sexily for her, to surprise her as she came through the door. She thought of all of the times that she had come home to Annabelle and had been kissed and hugged in greeting. This time, Annabelle would be coming home to her, and she would be pressing her lips onto her daughter’s mouth, she would be embracing her and squeezing her buttocks.
She went upstairs and ran a hot bath, while she watched the steaming water gushing from the taps, she had an idea. She took a pair of scissors and her ladies’ razor from the bathroom cabinet, sat on her bidet, cut and soaped her bush, before carefully shaving around her pussy. Content with her handiwork, she got into the bath and laid up to her neck in the water. The skin around her pussy felt the shock of the hot water but the pain soon passed and she began to enjoy the pleasant glow.