Dog
Star's 
KATIE AND ME
I knew something was troubling Katie since she was never this mopey around the house. At first I chalked it up to hormonal changes brought on by puberty. Then one evening she commented on “stupid boys” so I had to butt in.
“Are you having problems with a certain boy, or was that directed at boys in general?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” she said but I wasn’t buying it.
“It’s something alright. There’s something big bothering you and it’s my job as your mom to help. It’s in my contract.”
At least that solicited a smile.
“Mom, it really isn’t a big deal, and it isn’t really about boys either. It’s just that Brianna all of a sudden is flirting with all the boys in school, you know, like puffing her chest out to make her breasts more prominent, and she doesn’t want to hang with me and Lindsey as much anymore.”
“So, what’s the worst thing: Brianna interested in boys, that her breasts are growing faster than yours, or that the boys are paying attention?”
She sighed. “I don’t know. Yeah, the fact my boobs are not growing like I thought they would is bothering me, but I guess I really like Brianna a lot and she seemed to like me, but now…”
Oh-oh, I thought. I sensed dangerous territory around the corner. I wasn’t naïve in thinking that Katie didn’t recognize my special relationships with women friends. After all, I hadn’t slept with a man in ages, and basically wasn’t interested in men much after Katie’s dad left us. Did she sense how I felt, and was at least comfortable thinking of Brianna and maybe Lindsey too as more than friends? How was I going to handle this?
“I guess it’s easy for me to say but I think your breasts are growing nicely, especially since I hope they’re not as big as mine.”
“Why?”
I chuckled. “Big breasts like mine are heavy and they sag as you get older. Not a pretty sight.”
“But yours aren’t, like, sagging.”
“Maybe not yet, but they are heavy and it’s only a matter of time.”
“Okay, but men look at yours all the time, like when we go the store and things. That’s what I want; people to notice me instead of having all the boys looking at Brianna instead.”
“Is this about boys? Or is this about Brianna changing?”
“Oh Mom, you know it’s about Brianna. I mean, like you and Cassie…”
Cassie was my best friend and sometimes lover. “I’m thinking that it’s time we had a serious talk.”
It was Katie’s turn to laugh. “I thought that’s what we were having?” She grew serious and then said, “I know you like women, and I think that I do to. I’d like to find out if Brianna could be like a girlfriend, but I’m afraid she’d think I was queer. And yes, that’s why it bothers me that she’s paying attention to boys. You’re not mad at me are you?”
Her seeing through me should not have been a surprise. I had to address the ‘queer’ word quickly. “It’s not queer to like someone of the same sex. That word is wrong. I don’t only like women anyway.”
She pounced on that, “Your bisexual. That’s okay I think. But I don’t know anything about sex so I only know that I wish I could be with Brianna, like, naked, and touch her. I don’t feel that way about any boy.”
I wasn’t going to challenge her on how she even knew the word, although in today’s awareness of LGBT issues I shouldn’t be surprised. “Nothing you’re feeling is wrong, sweetheart, but I’m not sure I know how to help,” I said.
“I know, Mom. If only you could somehow talk to Brianna, you know, like feel her out.”
“Or maybe feel her up,” I said and instantly regretted it, based on my daughter’s expression.
“Do YOU have feelings for Brianna?”
“No honey, that was a bad joke. Me touching Brianna would be a very bad thing anyway.” I paused and then added, “I’m sorry I don’t have any answers for you. I’ll give some thought to how you can let Brianna know how you feel without getting hurt if she’s not a lesbian.”
“Is that what I am, a lesbian?”
I hugged her to me and said, “It’s just a label. You are who you are, and no label like lesbian or bisexual really matters.”
“I love you, Mom.” And that was it for the discussion. For now…
Later that night as I stepped out of the shower, she surprised me by being in the bathroom with me. “Is something the matter, hon?”
“I wanted to, like, look at you.” And that’s what she was doing. I couldn’t remember the last time she saw me naked; maybe when she was a little girl. “Wow, you’re smooth down there. No hair, I mean.”
My brain shouted cover up but I fought the urge. “I shave and sometimes get it waxed.”
“What does that mean—waxed?”
I ushered her out of the bathroom and toward my bed where we sat down. I explained what a wax job was, and she looked as dubious as I would if I was hearing about the process for the first time. Her eyes alternated between my breasts and my crotch.
“I think it looks good,” she said before adding, “I have a little hair, you know, and I wish I still was like I was when I was little. Is that why you shave it?”
This was going to be the hard part. I could lie but I figured she’d see through me. “I’m going to explain something, and I really don’t know how much you already know. When a man and a woman have sex it’s usually the man putting his penis in the woman.”
“Yeah, I know that part,” she said.
“Okay, but when two women have sex it almost always is oral. What I mean is that one woman will use her mouth on her partner’s most sensitive parts—down there,” I said while pointing to my exposed vulva. “I don’t like to use my mouth with hair there, and my friends don’t like it either.”
“With your mouth?” she exclaimed in awe. “You mean like kissing it?”
I laughed nervously. “I didn’t think we’d have this conversation until later, but you’re making me a proud mom for talking to me candidly about what can be a touchy subject.”
It was her turn to laugh. “That’s a pretty good pun—‘touchy subject’—like what you were saying about sex and touching. We learned about puns in school.”
“And now you’ll learn about sex at home. Yes, like kissing and licking and fun stuff like that.” I was certainly blushing—I felt the flush.
She looked at my crotch again. “You mean that if someone licks down there it feels good? The same place where I pee?”
“As strange as that might seem to you, the answer is yes. In fact it feels better than good. You probably don’t know this, or discovered it for yourself, but there is a little place in there that is very sensitive and is usually the spot that can give a woman an orgasm. It’s called the clitoris, and you’ve got one too.”
“What is an orgasm, Mom?”
“Wow, let me see how to explain it. It’s the great feeling you get from sex that makes it all worthwhile. Someday you’ll have one and then you’ll know what it is.”
“Okay, but can you show me your clitoris so I know where mine is?”
“Oh honey, I’m not sure if that’s a good idea. I mean, in showing you I might get aroused and that wouldn’t be right with you and not a lover. Do you understand?”
“You mean you might get an orgasm just from showing me? That would be, like, real cool!”
“Cool, huh?” I said as I pondered the ramifications of sexual show-and-tell with my own daughter—for me as well as for her. If she really was pondering a move of her friend Brianna then maybe this lesson was a good thing. I learned everything through trial and error experimentation when I was a bit older than Katie. Would I have benefitted by learning from my mother, that’s if she hadn’t been so puritanical about all things sexual? I took the plunge, “Are you ready to get naked like me?”
“Are you going to show me?” she said with only a hint of trepidation.
“I’ve decided to teach you more than that,” I said as she pulled off her nightgown and then her panties. I fetched a small make-up mirror and handed it to her, noticing that her nipples were puckered and blushing deep red. Was I arousing her? I then thought that it was a natural reaction after what she confessed to earlier. Back sitting on my bed, I spread my thighs for her and using my fingertips I exposed my clitoris. “This little piece of me is the magic clitoris. I’ll be honest, mine is very sensitive and according to my friends more sensitive than theirs.”
She leaned down for a closer look, and the most natural of reactions took place—I got wet. “Something happened, Mom. I saw it,” she declared in amazement.
“I’m sure it did. When you looked I thought about having another woman that close, and I got aroused. I grew wet from natural lubrication. That happens when you’re aroused for sex.”
She looked into my eyes, and I saw it. Something was happening to her too.
“Can I like touch you?” she said barely above a whisper.
I was about to let my daughter of all people touch me. Could I fight what was inevitably going to happen? And did I want to? “Yes, you can but be careful.” She tenderly and tentatively placed a fingertip on my clit and I gasped.
“It moved! Did I hurt you?” she asked with concern clearly in her voice.
“You did the opposite of hurt me. I really do love to be touched there,” I said, and heard the yearning in my voice. Katie undoubtedly heard it too.
“Oh Mom, you’re so beautiful and I feel so funny touching you like this. Am I aroused because I want to touch you?”
“What if it was Brianna sitting here? How would you feel?” She visibly shook so I knew the idea hit home. “Aroused for sure,” I whispered, looking at her. I placed one hand at the side of her face and tenderly placed the other on one of her breasts. “You’re beautiful too, sweetheart. You’ll be a good lover, for Brianna or anyone else.” She was flushed and her thighs involuntarily separated. I knew the sensation.
She gazed into my eyes and whispered, “Can you pretend to be Brianna and let me love you?”
If I said I didn’t think it would come to this I would’ve been fooling myself. “I’ll do better than that, honey. I’ll make love to you. But first I’m going to introduce you to your own clitoris, okay?”
She nodded vigorously.
With the mirror in hand I did the same thing she’d done with me a few moments ago. “Hold this while I find your darling little nub.” She held the mirror and looked down in awe as I used my fingers to spread her immature labia to locate her clit. Somehow I expected it to be immature too, yet there it was—pink, swollen and proud. And she was extremely wet. Oh my God, I’m going to do it! “How does this feel?” I asked as I dipped my fingertip into her wetness before slowly massaging her clit with it as she looked at the reflection in the mirror.
She emitted a hiccupping sound before telling me it felt “different.”
I said, “You’ve never kissed another girl, I’m sure. If I’m going to make love to you then it has to start with a kiss.”
“A k-k-kiss is part of sex?”
“Remember what I said about using your mouth,” I said and smiled. She got it. I put out my arms for her and she fell into them after tossing the mirror aside. I kissed her as I would any lover. She didn’t understand the tongue part but soon got into it and was kissing back with obvious pent-up passion.
When our lips separated, she whispered “I love you, Mom…for this.”
“I love you too, sweetheart. I’m so glad you came to me for this, telling me about how you feel about Brianna and all.” We were lying on our sides and I made sure her budding little breasts were touching mine. My hand went back to her vulva and once again I marveled at her level of lubrication. I didn’t remember getting that wet when I was her age and had those vague sexual thoughts. Maybe because things weren’t so vague for her at the moment or from thinking of Brianna. “Don’t forget…mouths,” I muttered as I skid down and suckled on one of her nipples.
“Oh Mom that feels good! Can I do that to you?”
“Later, but right now it’s all about you.”
I nibbled, licked and sucked on first one nipple and then the other before sliding farther down, trailing my tongue past her navel and to her glorious, peach fuzz-covered pubic mound. She continued to moan and once when I looked up she had her eyes closed. I didn’t linger and went right for her clit. She nearly yelped and immediately grew wetter still, so much so that her juices flowed like a small river down her inner thigh. I licked up a dollop of the sweetest juice imaginable before going back to licking and nibbling on her clit. While sucking on the little pearl I slipped a finger into her and immediately felt her hymen. Would a boy someday destroy this thin sacred membrane? I sincerely hoped not.
“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh I feel so funny! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!” she cried. Her skinny legs shook and the little river became a flood. Finally she gasped, “Was that an orgasm?”
“What do you think?” I said as I studied her reaction and tried to remember my first, which was as with most girls self-induced. Just wait until I got her a vibrator.
“Mom, that was soooooo special!” she exclaimed. I urged her to touch herself, to explore the wetness. “Why am I all wet?” she asked. “Did I pee?”
“No hon, that’s natural girl lubrication,” and went on to explain about penises and penetration. She drank it all in with wide-eyed wonder before she said the magic words: “Can I do it to you now so you can have an orgasm.”
I coached her on proper technique but her efforts were more exploratory than sexual, and that was okay as far as I was concerned. At one point she said, “Is this what I look like inside?”
“We are pretty much all alike, although since I’ve given birth—to you, my little angel—I’m bigger, not as tight as you are at your age. You’re still maturing.”
She stuck a couple of fingers in me and asked about men and penises. I painted a picture of what sex with a man would be like, but quickly told her about her hymen and what would happen to it eventually. “I don’t think I’ll let a boy stick it in me,” she declared with the certainty of youth.
“That’s my girl,” I said before directing her back to my yearning clitoris. She soon got the lick and suck down pat and I began to ramp up toward a good climax. I muttered, “Oh Katie, I’m cumming,” as the big one hit.”
She exclaimed, “Oh wow!” as she looked up and met my eyes. Her mouth and chin were gloriously wet and I wanted to kiss her so much.
And that’s what we did, a long and wonderful kiss that was much more than a simple mother-daughter one could ever be.
We lay together afterwards and continued to talk sex. We talked masturbation, and I promised her I’d show her the joys of toys. Later we showered together and then I shaved her sparse pubic hair until she was baby-smooth and joyful as hell.
“Can we, like, do it again?” she asked so innocently.
“Whenever you want, dear. But it has to remain our secret since some people would say it is wrong.” She said she understood.
As we dressed the conversation turned back to Brianna. “How can I get her to think of me… like that?”
“Sweetheart, you can’t make her what she isn’t. If she wants boys then that’s that. What you could do is invite her over here ostensibly to show her your new bikini and have her bring hers so you can see her in it. Of course what you want is to see her out of it, right?” I said with a grin.
“Oh yeah!” she said enthusiastically.
“Make sure she sees that you’re shaved and ask her about it if she has hair down there. Getting her to shave would be a good opportunity to touch her and tell her how much you want to be more than a friend. The worst that can happen is she freaks out but you can assure her that even if she doesn’t want that, you can still be regular friends.”
“I guess so. I’ll try it.” She thought for a moment and then added, “Well, if not Brianna there still would be Lindsey.”
My daughter, the budding, hot little lesbian on the make!
(To be continued…)
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