“Do it,” I reply, holding her slender waist with both my hands. “Cum on my cock.”
“Yessss,” she cries, falling forward and leaving her ass raised and vulnerable. She cries, “Oh my god!”
She repeats the phrase over and over until the words run together and she is practically screaming with ecstasy. Sweat drips from my breasts and my forehead as I slow my strokes. I let my weight drape over her back, my breasts against her shoulders as I kiss her neck and nibble at her earlobe. We’re both sweaty and out of breath.
“That was… I’ve never done anything like that.”
“Your swim coach never fucked you like that?”
“No,” she chuckles through her gasping. “No, she… it was better than anything she did.”
The cock slips out of Rachel’s well-fucked little pussy and the teen turns beneath me on the rumpled beach blanket. She pulls me into a long, lazy kiss. Our bodies are tightly together, basking in our mutual heat. Her hands reach back and caress my big ass.
“I want… um… I want this in my face.”
“This?” I raise an eyebrow and she answers me with a squeeze of my ass. “Oh, well, let me catch my breath and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
She nods, obviously a bit embarrassed by what she is asking. Once I’ve caught my breath, I remove the strap and let it drop to the fake sand. I turn away from her and bend forward a little, showing off my ass as I peel off those overly tight bikini bottoms. I hear a slight moan of lust from her and I know I’ve had my intended effect on the teen. As I turn back around, Rachel starts to sit up.
“No, no,” I say. “Just how you were. Stretched out on your back.”
Her perky little tits almost disappear entirely when she’s on her back. I saunter over to her, swinging my ample hips and taking my time to arrive at her side. I turn around to face her toes and step over her head so that I am astride her and she is looking up between my thighs. I slowly begin to squat, taking my time to give her a good view of my ass and very wet pussy. I can feel my lips opening a little as I squat lower. The posture naturally spreads my cheeks so she can see everything.
“You’re so sexy,” I hear from beneath me.
I lower my ass onto her face, smothering her nose in my crack and her face with my pussy. She grips my thighs, pulling me heavily to sit on her face and really suffocate her. I rock my hips side to side. I feel her trying to breathe. Finally, she pushes on me, signaling she really does need to breathe. I lift just enough to let her suck in a breath of that hot, musky air between my legs.
“You’re going to lick me,” I say, using my stern “angry mom” voice. “You’re going to lick my clit. My pussy. And you’re going to lick my ass. And you’re not going to stop until I tell you to stop. And if you don’t do a good job…”
I smother her again, cutting off her oxygen for just long enough that her feet begin to kick. I lift up and her gasps for air suck at my hot furrow.
“Yes,” she moans. “Yes, Lindsay. I’ll do a good job, I promise.”
Rachel isn’t eager to please me, she is wild to please me. She moans loudly as she begins to lick, thrusting her tongue deep, tasting me, sucking at my folds and lashing my clit with her frenzied tongue. The juices of my hot peach spill over her face and into her mouth.
She urges me to turn my hips with her hands and she does not hesitate to rim my asshole. I moan and try not to lose my balance as she slips her tongue into my clenching pink hole and tastes my ass. Her reluctance to get her ass licked is replaced with a wild lust to be debased and to be forced to eat my ass. So I force her. I grab her hair and pull her face against me. I watch over my shoulder as she struggles to breathe and plunges her tongue in and out of my tender pucker.
Rachel makes me cum from eating my ass. That’s actually a first for me. No fingers on my clit, just her tongue squirming in my pucker. She makes me cum twice more, sucking and licking my clit and fucking fingers into my hot channel. We end our fun in a lazy 69. My pleasure is finally reciprocated to her in a hot, tonguing, tasting perfect circle of lust. Her juices are so sweet I can almost taste her relative innocence.
We roll side-by-side on the beach blankets, mutually exhausted, smiling, and out of breath. We stare up at the heat lamps casting an unnatural glow onto the fake beach scene and our bodies.
“That was…” My voice trails off into a tired chuckle.
“Yeah,” she agrees and rolls onto her side. “Yeah, wow.”
We kiss for a long time. Not the deep tongue-kissing of earlier, but light, sweet kisses accompanied by stroking hands and gently rubbing bodies. I pull her against the warmth of my breasts, a hand on her slender back.
“I have to confess something,” I say. “You cannot speak a word of this to anyone.”
“Of course,” says Rachel. “I told you, um, the thing about my aunt. That can’t leave this room either.”
“When I was in Paris with Sofia, I got high at a swinger’s club. We were all wearing masks and this beautiful young girl came in and joined me. I had sex with her, Rachel.” I look into her eyes. “I think I had sex with my daughter. And I liked it.”
She takes a moment to process what I am saying and then she nods.
“You’ve been through a lot,” she says. “With her and your ex-husband. The pregnancy.”
“I told you that?”
She nods, “When you were trying to convince me to come to the club with my aunt.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “I used to be such a private person. Now my darkest secrets just come pouring out of me.”
“It’s okay,” she says, stroking my cheek. “Look, maybe I am not the best judge of this sort of thing, but you’re an adult. She’s an adult. Is it strange? Yeah. Would a lot of people think it’s wrong? You know it. But… you and Sofia need to decide what’s right. You at least…”
She seems to struggle with what she is trying to say.
“She’s your daughter,” she finally says. “You need to talk to her about what happened in Paris. Get it all out there, because it will eat away at you and your relationship with her until you do.”
“How do you know so much about this?” I laugh, sort of shocked by her good advice.
“Because I’ve never talked with my aunt about what she makes me do and I hate her a little bit for it. We’ll probably never talk about it, and it’ll just keep happening as we grow further and further apart.” She turns away from me and looks up at the fake blue sky painted on the ceiling. “Until we’re just two people trading sex favors and we have nothing else in common.”
Later, after we have both dressed and are waiting to leave the club, I give her a long hug and press my lips to her ears.
“Thank you, Rachel,” I whisper. “You’ve given me exactly what I needed today.”
“You too, Lindsay,” she says. “I’ve been wanting an older woman to…
Her words are distant to me. They seem to fade out. I’m focused on Eliana descending the stairs to the lounge, arm in arm with my daughter. Sofia makes eye contact with me. She smiles. I know what I have to do and sooner rather than later.
I have to put everything on the table with my daughter.
Part Six
All in the Open
An Education
“We need to talk!” I blurt the words out as Sofia brushes past me in the kitchen. There are words building inside me like steam in a kettle. For days, I have needed to talk to my daughter about our relationship, and I feel like I can’t hold them in any longer.
“Okay, sure,” says Sofia, not even looking at me. “I mean, is it a quick thing? Dad is coming to pick me up.”
Tyler is Sofia’s stepdad and my ex-husband. I really wish Sofia would stop call him “Dad.” It’s just so perverse considering their relationship. Sofia’s bump in her otherwise flat tummy is beginning to show. She has been hiding it with looser tops, soon it will be sweatshirts, and then she won’t be able to hide it any longer. She’ll have to come out and tell her fri
ends, “I’m pregnant.” Is she going to tell them who the father is?
“Mom?” She snaps her fingers in front of my face. “Is it a quick thing? Let’s talk!”
“Oh, no, it isn’t,” I say, looking away from her big brown eyes. “There is never a good time to talk to you.”
I realize I sound almost petulant, but I can’t help it. My daughter spends time with my ex, she spends time with Victoria, her lesbian lover, and she spends time with her friends. Even with our weekly trips to the club, I sometimes feel like there isn’t time to talk with her any more.
Sofia comes up behind me, pressing her soft breasts and then her body against my back as her arms slip around my waist. I hope she doesn’t notice me shudder at her touch. She leans her chin against my shoulder. Her smell is sweet and familiar. She takes my hands in hers.
“We’ll talk Sunday, mom,” she says. “I know I’ve been running around a lot, but Sunday is ‘us time,’ okay? Just me and you.”
I turn and she kisses me on the lips. It’s a short, chaste kiss, but one that stirs my desire. The desire I have to talk about with Sofia. That I have to get in the open, because it is making me crazy keeping it hidden. God, she is beautiful. She whirls and her skirt lifts up her slender legs high enough that I catch a glimpse of her striped panties hugging against her firm bottom.
“What do you think?” she asks.
“You look, well, you look too sexy to be going with Tyler.”
“Awww, don’t be like that.” She picks up her purse. “You shouldn’t be jealous of the time I spend with dad.”
“It’s not…” I stop myself from arguing with her about it. I don’t want to taint any future conversation with her about our relationship and my efforts to thwart her romance with Tyler have to be more subtle. “You’re right. Nothing to be jealous about. You have fun with him.”
I don’t come out to see him when he arrives. I have nothing to talk about with Tyler and I’m not really mature enough to handle a discussion about how he knocked up Sofia and pimped her out to his friends. Especially when I am guilty of the latter myself. I watch from my upstairs bedroom as Tyler’s car pulls out. Through the upper tint of the windshield I can see his hand on her thigh. My mind runs wild with the image and I see them together, sweating, moaning, their bodies colliding in intimate ways that arouse and disgust me in equal amounts.
I definitely need a drink. I’m not a day time drinker usually, but I don’t think I’m going to make it through the rest of the day, and Saturday, without a steady supply of wine.
I put on my DVD of Imagine Me & You and open a fresh bottle of Moscato. The secret lesbian romance on the screen tugs at my heartstrings and my lust. Halfway through the bottle, I find myself thumbing through my contacts and wondering which of my teenage friends I can invite over for a quickie.
No, I’m a grown woman. I should not impose my emotional baggage on any of those girls from the club. I settle for the Internet and its easily accessible pornography. I sit hunched over awkwardly, my vibe between my thighs, teasing at my clit, as I watch video of two raven-haired teens flicking their tongues at the pussy and ass of an older woman. The vibe finds my clit and I begin to softly moan. I lift my shirt and bra over my breasts and begin to play with one fat nipple.
God, if I had these two girls here, I wouldn’t be thinking about—
My phone begins to vibrate on the desk, shocking me so badly I drop my vibrator onto the floor. As I scramble for the buzzing toy with one hand, I reach for the phone. Elaine Clark? From the book club? I haven’t talked to her in years. I never even liked her that much. She was a condescending bitch when we read Like Water for Chocolate.
Something tells me to answer the call. My fingers finally catch the vibe. I shut it off and answer the phone just before it would dump Elaine to voice mail.
“Hello?”
“Oh, Lindsay, I thought I missed you. Hi, it’s Elaine, from the Sisterhood of the Traveling Page. Remember me?”
Yeah, I remember her. She was fat, frizzy-haired, opinionated, liked to correct my pronunciations, and she talked endlessly about what a good lover her balding blob of a husband was. No one of those things would have been all that annoying, but put them all together, in a woman named Elaine, and you had someone annoying enough to make me quit the club.
“Sure, I remember you, Elaine,” I say in my sweetest “go fuck yourself” voice. “What can I do for you?”
“I heard about you and Tyler and the divorce,” she says, syrupy sympathy in her tone. “Jean said she saw you at the grocery store and you were looking great. I hope you’re out on the prowl.”
“I suppose,” I say, unable to conceal my annoyance.
“If I were you, I would join one of those cougar dating websites. You know, older women looking for younger men? I’d find myself a twenty-year-old stud to ride like a, well, cowgirl.”
“I thought Ronnie was taking care of every possible need.”
“Oh, yeah,” she laughs. “He gives it to me good.”
Blech!
“Why are you calling me, Elaine?” I say in an icy tone.
“Wellllll, I seem to recall you doing some AP tutoring back in the day, and I have a foreign exchange student with me for the fall semester, while my Brooklyn is in Japan.”
“I don’t do that work anymore,” I say.
It’s true. I haven’t done private tutoring in the better part of a decade. I stopped it a couple years before book club, in fact. Elaine just carries on like I didn’t say anything.
“Hitomi is such a beautiful girl, but she is very shy and I’m afraid she isn’t adjusting well to America. Her teachers say she excels at science and math, you know, as the Asians do, but she has trouble with her English.”
I’m struck by the fact that Elaine is a disgusting racist and also that Hitomi is supposedly beautiful. I’m curious.
“She is a senior, right?”
“Yes, senior year. Does that make a difference?”
“Huge difference,” I say. “Okay, Elaine, I will meet with Hitomi, but I can’t make a promise that I will tutor her. Only that I need to speak to her to know if I can help.”
“Can you come by today?”
“Uh, yes, three o’clock?”
I glance at the mostly-empty bottle of wine sitting on the computer desk. Looks like I’ll need to take an Uber.
“That’s fine. Ronnie and I will be out, but you just come in the front door. I’ll let Hitomi know to expect you.”
I am relieved to hang up on Elaine. I finish the glass of wine and start the bath. I have a good soak and resist the urge to touch myself in the milky, sweet-smelling water that envelops my voluptuous body. I give my pussy a little trim after I drain the tub. My silky blond fur is short already, so it’s not much work.
After the bath, I stand before the steamy mirror, my blond hair dark with dampness and my plump breasts and fat, pink nipples glistening. My tits still look amazing, even well into my forties, but I have a big ass. It can’t be helped.
Believe me, I’ve tried to shrink it. I’ve shed weight since Paris and since my divorce, but I still feel a little heavy. It’s all in my hips and thighs. And that big ass. I turn it to the mirror and give it a smack that jiggles my cheeks.
“Bad bitch,” I say as a red handprint appears.
I have some professional tutoring outfits that I haven’t worn in years. The outfit includes high-collared, tight around the bust light-colored button-ups, knee-length dark skirts, white pantyhose, and chunky-heeled shoes. I go with a light pink button-up top and a black skirt. I’m pleased to find the top at least is a little looser around the midsection. I put my hair up and give myself a fairly heavy coating of makeup. I want to look the part of a sexy teacher and, goddamn it, I pull it off. I have my first proof that I’m pulling it off when the Middle Eastern Uber driver can’t take his eyes off of me.
“You are very beautiful. You have date?”
“A business appointment,” I say, holding my le
ather folio on my lap.
“Very lucky business. You are number one most beautiful woman in my car all week.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Do you want date? My name is Jon. I am very good guy. Very nice. I take you to dinner—“
“Thanks, Jon,” I say with a sweet smile. “You’re very sweet and handsome, but I am not interested in men. Do you understand?”
“Oh. Ohhhhhh, the lesbian.” He chuckles. “Yes, this is good. I think about this.”
Yeah, I bet he will. Other than that incident, it’s a nice ride and he delivers me promptly to Elaine’s house. It’s an annoyingly nice house. It’s perfectly landscaped, the ash trees just turning colors for fall, the shrubs like they’re carved out of green stone, and a huge front door. What does Ronnie even do? I thought he was an electrician.
The door is unlocked, so I head inside. My heels click on the marble tile floor of the foyer.
“Hitomi?” I call. I wander through a luxurious kitchen and I look out onto the deck with its hot tub and an in-ground swimming pool. Even the deck furniture is annoyingly nice. A winding staircase takes me to the second floor. I call again, “Hitomi?”
No answer. I start pushing open bedroom doors. Everything is disgustingly nice. Even Rachel’s bedroom, which has RACHEL spelled out above her Williams Sonoma bed and neatly-framed photographs on the walls above the wainscoting, is catalog-perfection. I finally open the door to the white on white on white spare bedroom, with its canopy bed and fresh flowers, and I see Hitomi.
Hitomi Asa is wearing her oversized headphones and reading a book. Her legs, clad in dark knee socks, hang over the end of the gigantic bed like she is a little girl. She is petite, with a slender figure and small, pert breasts. She is also beautiful, with her lips forming a pretty, pink bow, her dark eyes made larger by her glasses, and her nose cute and pixieish. Her silky black hair hangs past her shoulders.
It takes me a moment of staring at her to realize that she is actually wearing the classic Japanese schoolgirl uniform, with the dark jacket, button-down shirt, and pleated skirt. I wave my hand from the door and she still does not notice me. I walk into her line of sight and finally she jerks upright and pulls off her headphones.
The Lesbian Daughter Swapping Fantasy Club Page 18
