("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._
                     `6_ 6  )   `-.  (     ).`-.__.`)
                     (_Y_.)'  ._   )  `._ `. ``-..-'
                    _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,'
                   ((('   (((-(((''  ((((
                 K R I S T E N' S    C O L L E C T I O N
		_________________________________________
		                WARNING!
		This text file contains sexually explicit
		material. If you do not wish to read this
		type of literature, or you are under age,
		PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!!
		_________________________________________




			Scroll down to view text


















--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2006.  Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
to this story.  You may post freely to non-commercial
"free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites.
Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------

A Daughter's Journey
By Sarah (curious4milk@aol.com)

***

Sisters love become a physical one. (Ff, ped, inc, rom)

***

CHAPTER ONE:
THE AWAKENING OF EMILY BLAKE

Year: 1804
Setting: England

Emily was perplexed. The youngest of the three Blake 
sisters, she was supposed to be enjoying the first days 
of her eligibility for courtship with the suitors who 
had been gathering for years now at the Blake family 
home to seek out the attentions of her very beautiful 
elder siblings. 

Since her seventeenth birthday two months earlier, the 
friends of her parents had routinely brought over their 
sons in order to introduce to the Blake's youngest and 
most radiant daughter. There were older men as well, 
who came on their own, bearing their own gifts, 
offering their own compliments, and offering their own 
gestures of respect to Emily's parents, Samuel and 
Catherine.

Emily knew that such moments had been the basis for all 
of her upbringing this far. The manners, the dress, the 
lessons, the lectures, all strategies used by her 
parents, her father especially, to make her into a wife 
desirable to the society beaus who had now finally 
arrived to meet her and woo her. Her sisters, Rachel 
and Charlotte, had both entered this right of passage 
in the previous years. Rachel, the eldest and now 
twenty years old, had chosen an older bank owner for 
her husband. 

They were already three years married and had a son, 
named Samuel after his grandfather. Meanwhile Samuel 
was beginning to become impatient with Charlotte who, 
nearing nineteen years of age, was running out of 
worthy suitors and had yet to settle upon a husband. 
The father was now threatening to arrange a marriage 
for her with Captain Jack Figg, the wealthy young 
military officer with whom Mr. Blake had partnered in a 
business investment. Charlotte despised Jack Figg.

For the entirety of their lives, all three girls shared 
a large bedroom on the third floor of their lavish, 
very old family home on the English countryside. As 
they entered the courting rights, Rachel, and Charlotte 
shortly thereafter, began to relay stories of their 
experiences with the men who had come to visit. Each 
night, as the three ladies lay in bed, Emily would 
listen to her sisters exchange details of kisses, 
caresses, and impolite conversations enjoyed beyond the 
awareness of the parents. 

By the time Charlotte had begun to meet men, the two 
older sisters often seemed to compete with each other 
in the bawdiness and anatomic details of their stories. 
The acts became more lewd, the specifics of anatomy 
more graphic, the language shocking. Neither sister 
ever went so far as to insinuate that she had lost her 
virginity to any of these beaus and Emily believed much 
of what they told to be lies and fantasies. Still, 
their newfound knowledge of the bodies and desires of 
men were alien to Emily and must have been acquired 
during their walks in the estate gardens outside of the 
view of parental eyes.

The years of training and the bizarre, nasty stories of 
her sisters made Emily very nervous when her time to 
sit in the parlor and meet her potential husbands came. 
Suddenly she was questioning herself, her every move, 
as well as the motives and actions of the gentleman who 
sat and conversed beside her. Even the rationale of her 
parents became suspect in Emily's mind. 

All of this stress and tension seemed torture to her 
and she wondered how her father in particular could so 
excitedly put her through such a gauntlet of emotions. 
She was so nervous had to concentrate just to keep the 
tea cup from rattling in her sweaty hands.

Many times she could not remember what was said with 
these men. They never touched her and she never touched 
them, that much she remembered. She tried to remember 
to smile, to listen to what they had to say, to come up 
with witty conversation, but all of that seemed to 
disappear in a haze of fear by the time she sat down 
next to a man. All she could think of was how easy it 
had seemed for her sisters. 

Even now Charlotte stood on the other side of the 
parlor, by the window curtains, talking alone and at 
ease with Captain Figg, who certainly had no idea of 
the girl's distaste for him. Charlotte smiled, spoke, 
and touched the man without the slightest show of 
anxiety. The most Emily could manage was the quick and 
infrequent glance at the gentleman in her company.

On this particular day, William Broughton had come to 
pay Emily a visit. It was his first meeting with Emily 
in such a setting, although the pair had met on several 
occasions throughout their youths in town, at church, 
and in other public settings. On all occasions, they 
had both been accompanied by their parents. 

William was nineteen, reasonably handsome, educated, 
the son of a landowner whose territories included the 
farm touching the south border of the Blake's property. 
He spoke to Emily of the many travels he had already 
embarked upon as a business representative for his 
father: France, Wales, Denmark, even once to New York 
in America. She could only smile and utter mindless 
things like, "Oh" and "Quite."

As this was young William's first visit, Samuel and 
Catherine were present and speaking with his parents. 
It was that the Broughton family had ever set foot 
inside the Blake home and Samuel took William's father 
on a tour of the mansion's many rooms. Catherine stayed 
in the parlor with her two daughters and their suitors, 
speaking herself with William's mother. She spent much 
of the visit watching Emily nervously struggle in her 
seat. Emily, afraid to look at her suitor and made 
uncomfortable by watching her sister, stared back at 
her mother, whose beauty and inner calm gave Emily her 
only peace during the hours of these visits.

Catherine always seemed to have a knowing, empathetic 
look in her eyes at these moments from which Emily got 
the sense that her mother knew how alien these meetings 
felt. Something in her eyes gave Emily comfort that she 
was not disappointing her parents but instead that 
things would be okay. There seemed to be a secret 
Catherine knew and Emily was supposed to discover, some 
fact or realization that would end this awkwardness, 
self-loathing and misery.

Around the middle of the afternoon, young Broughton had 
visibly worn himself down trying to make some sort of 
impression on the oblivious and bizarre Blake girl. All 
of the parents realized this and polite gestures were 
made to insinuate that the visit was over. With a kiss 
on Emily's white gloved hand, William took his leave 
and his parents left behind him, the entire family 
stepping into a coach. Emily did not come to the door 
with her sister and parents to watch the carriage roll 
along the stone path that led off of the Blake 
property.

When Samuel Blake re-entered the parlor first. 
Embarrassed, Emily could only glance swiftly up at her 
father as she had William and then look ashamedly down 
at the floor. He stood before her, nearly a foot taller 
than her 5 feet, 2 inches in height, his body very 
still but still seemingly charged with furious energy. 
His the knuckles of his trembling fists were whiter 
than her gloves and his breathing, the only noise he 
made, bursting like that of a stallion after a sprint 
across the estate grounds. 

He said nothing, only stood there a moment looking down 
at her tiny frame. Catherine and Charlotte said nothing 
either, but only out of fear of what Samuel may do. He 
did nothing, only standing there for thirty seconds and 
then stomping off into the vastness of his house.

As his footsteps grew fainter down one of the 
corridors, Emily felt as though something had burst 
inside of her. Suddenly everything around her was 
reeling, her lungs refused to open, her knees shivered, 
her fingertips went numb. Then the entire room seemed 
to tremble and vibrate. For a moment she saw her mother 
rush into view just before everything went black.

**

Emily emerged from her sleep feeling the exact opposite 
of the way she had felt before passing out. Peace had 
replaced anxiety and the trembling numbness to a 
calming warmth. She opened her eyes to realize, though 
the faint flicker of a candle at her bedside, that she 
was in the bedroom that she shared with Charlotte. 
Rachel's bed had been removed years earlier, upon her 
marriage, to provide the two remaining sisters with 
more room. It was now nighttime and a window was open 
in the room to let in the soothing night breeze of the 
Spring evening. 

Emily lay flat on her back, on top of the blankets 
draping her bed. The slight whisper of refreshing wind 
along the length of her body told her, without looking, 
that she was naked. This surprised Emily as she never 
ever slept in the nude, always wearing her night gown 
to bed since she was a very small girl. Aside from when 
she was bathing, she always wore at least some form of 
clothing at every point in the day or night. But the 
night breeze felt good when combined with the 
surprisingly potent heat from the tiny candle beside 
her, which fought valiantly against the invading air.

After a few seconds, Emily sat up in bed, intending to 
rise and retrieve a gown hanging in the closet on 
Charlotte's side of the room. Upon sitting up, Emily 
immediately recognized the silhouette of her mother 
sitting in the old chair against the adjacent wall, 
next to vanity mirror. It was from that chair that 
Catherine Blake had spent so many of her evenings 
reading books to her three daughters. Tonight she had 
no books and no light to read by. She sat silent, 
looking straight ahead at her surprised daughter. 

Dressed in a plain, brown dress she often wore at home 
with the family but never out of doors or when 
entertaining visitors, Mrs. Blake was the same height 
as her daughter, about five feet, two inches tall. She 
sat sternly upright in the chair, the blue glow of 
moonlight tracing the womanly curves of her thirty-
seven year old frame. Catherine's hair was long, 
straight, a deep brown interrupted now by several long 
streaks of grey, and pulled back into a bun behind her 
head. 

Her face exuded a silent wisdom all her own, yet glowed 
with a youthful pride. Only among company did she wear 
make-up, extravagant clothing, or elaborate hairstyles. 
Emily had always admired her mother for her honesty and 
self-confidence. As Emily's eyes adjusted to the 
lighting, she could see a calm but knowing smirk on her 
mother's face, the same sort of look Catherine always 
gave during Emily's meetings with her suitors.

Emily was embarrassed, but not at being nude in front 
of her mother. Since before Emily was born, it had been 
a tradition of the Blake women to bathe each other. 
Catherine had always bathed her daughters and they had 
bathed her and the three sisters all had shared bathing 
tubs with each other for most of the days of their 
lives. It was a common experience for them, a moment 
outside of the world and demands of men, one of the 
times at which Emily had always felt most comfortable 
and loved. 

Nearly as precious to her were the moments after these 
rituals, when the girls would line up to have their 
mother dry them off, brush their hair, and prepare them 
for either bed or a social occasion. It had been only 
that very morning, before the visits from Captain Figg 
and the Broughtons, that Catherine, Charlotte, and 
Emily had shared such a moment together, comfortable in 
being women and carefully washing, grooming, perfuming, 
and dressing each other.

Still, at this moment, entirely nude on a bed before 
the peculiar gaze of her mother, Emily did feel an 
embarrassment. She felt more aware of her nakedness, 
her body, her womanhood (as opposed to girlhood) than 
she had ever felt during the baths. Unlike her older 
siblings, Emily did not develop the full, fleshy 
breasts that Rachel and Charlotte inherited from their 
mother. Nor did she have the overall thickness of the 
other three, their perfectly round hips and plump 
thighs, their round, curving behinds. 

Instead, Emily had always been a frail girl. Her arms 
and legs were thin, their only curves being muscle. Her 
waist was thin enough so that her father could nearly 
wrap a single arm completely around her waist and touch 
his fingers to his shoulder. The onset of puberty not 
many years earlier had done nothing to give her boney 
hips the womanly roundness characteristic of the Blake 
women. Only her long, plain brown hair bared any 
resemblance to the physical presence of Catherine. 

Unlike her mother's olive skin, Emily's was a virginal 
white, untouched by the sun yet glowing radiantly in 
the beams of moonlight. Never before had Emily Blake 
felt so awkwardly naked and vulnerable. Her mother's 
eyes seemed to penetrate deep, through her skin, 
beneath the bones, into the young girl's heart. Emily 
felt as though her mother had discovered a terribly 
scandalous secret about her, a indiscretion in the past 
which Emily could not specifically recall but seemed to 
have always been unconsciously in the back of her mind.

Struggling for words to break the awkward silence, 
Emily looked toward the open window and muttered 
ashamedly, "I've angered Father again."

Her mother remained silent.

"It's not that I am trying to offend him or even those 
men, Mother. It's just... I feel not myself. That I 
have so much to live up to in father's eyes that I am 
destined to fail."

"You are," were the first words from Catherine's lips. 
Emily was taken aback by this. She was not sure if her 
mother meant this to expose some gross fault in her or 
whether it was a critique of her father's demanding 
nature and worship of perfection in social virtue. She 
looked dead into her mothers eyes and still could not 
get a clear estimation of her mother's meaning. Emily 
said nothing until Catherine, recognizing her 
daughter's uncertainty, elaborated.

"Your father, like his father before him and his father 
before him, expects certain things from a young woman 
such as yourself. You are of the age when he judges 
that marriage to a worthy suitor should be your primary 
concern. He expects you, like your sisters, to join in 
these archaic traditions and become a woman acceptable 
to his society."

"He is right, mother. It is important to become a good 
wife for a man, a woman a man can be proud to have on 
his arm. Wives, like Father says, we are the base of 
our society." Emily recited these words as she heard 
them a dozen times from Samuel Blake's lips. Her life, 
to that point, had been an exercise in branding such 
keys to morality upon her identity, to mould her into a 
proper lady. 

This is what she felt her father, and her mother, too, 
wanted. Thus Emily was surprised to see an unfamiliar 
look of disapproval on Catherine's face.

"Samuel's society is not our society," Catherine said. 
She rose from her chair and took one step toward the 
foot of Emily's bed, the bottom of the ruffled brown 
dress brushing softly on the floor.

Puzzled, Emily felt that her mother was testing her 
with a kind of riddle for which Emily could be expected 
to have no answer. Her mother's answer was to turn 
around, facing the chair, with her back to her 
daughter. "Emily, could you please undo my dress."

Emily had undressed her mother countless times before, 
preceding the family baths. She did not hesitate to 
crawl up onto her knees, scoot to the edge of the bed, 
and begin to undo the thin brown strings that tied 
together the back of her mother's dress. With the back 
of the dress unlaced, Emily casually moved her hands to 
her mother's shoulders, sliding the dress down 
Catherine's arms and torso. With the dress bunched up 
above her hips, Catherine took it upon herself to 
remove the rest of the garment. She rolled it down her 
hips, revealing her large round buttocks and then 
letting the material fall to her ankles. 

Emily briefly wondered why her mother was not wearing 
the usual undergarments that any woman was expected to 
wear beneath her clothing; she had never known her 
mother to dress without such clothing. From head to 
toes, Catherine Blake was bare, with the exception of 
her most comfortable pair of shoes, still strapped 
across her feet. Catherine's legs were short, but thick 
with flesh, especially in the thighs. 

When she bent over to un-strap her shoes, Emily scanned 
her mother's golden skin with her own curious eyes. As 
long as Emily could remember, her mother's skin always 
seemed a luscious tan all over, sun baked in areas that 
were never supposed to see the light of day. Had 
certain members of society beyond the family known 
this, Mrs. Blake's private life would have been the 
subject of many unsavory rumors.

Emily had expected her mother to suggest they bathe 
together, but somewhere in the back of her mind there 
was the thought, maybe even the desire, that her mother 
somehow reveal more about what she meant by "our 
society." Catherine turned around to face her daughter, 
stepping out of the brown dress which lay vacant on the 
floor. Now completely nude herself, Catherine's reached 
out and drew her unsuspecting 17-year-old daughter into 
a tight embrace full of warmth and a soothing passion. 

Emily was entirely enveloped by her mother's arms, as 
if wrapped in a blanket of love. She felt her mother's 
breath sweep naturally over her shoulders, like the 
ocean tide caressing an undiscovered beach. She noticed 
the amazing heat of her mother's bosom pressed against 
her own, flesh against flesh. As Catherine's hands 
swept gently up and down Emily's bare back, tickling 
the tiny, down-like hairs along her spine, Emily felt 
an unfamiliar, fluid heat surge through her limbs, her 
belly, her face, and, even stranger, between her legs.

As they embraced, Catherine began to kiss her 
daughter's shoulders and run her fingers through 
Emily's soft, youthful hair. This had never happened 
before, not to Emily, and she froze, not knowing how to 
respond or what to expect. But after a few minutes, the 
girl relaxed amid her mother's caresses. While she 
closed her eyes to savor her mother's nurturing love, 
Emily heard Catherine whisper, "I can teach you all 
about who you really are. I can show you all the love 
in the world and teach you to be a proud woman."

Emily, drowning in an unfamiliar ecstasy, could only 
nod her head and breath a wordless reply of yearning. 
"I can teach you all these things," continued 
Catherine. "But," and she pulled away from Emily now, 
looking her straight in the eye, a look of seriousness 
in her blue eyes, "you must be mine. You do as I say 
and obey my wishes. You listen to my words and let them 
guide you, as they did when you were a little girl." 
Emily smiled back at her mother. 

It seemed to the daughter that she somehow had been 
longing to hear these exact words for years. Catherine 
placed her hands to the back of Emily's head and drew 
her nearer to her own face. Their lips touched only 
momentarily and Emily's body seemed to quake with an 
involuntary shudder. 

She pulled her mouth away out of reflex, as if they had 
kissed a painful fire. And yet those lips returned 
loyally back to the flame of her mother's love and the 
two women fell into a long, soft, but insanely 
heartfelt kiss. To Emily, sharing her first romantic 
kiss with the mother who had raised her, nurtured her, 
and guided her for so many years, the woman she loved, 
felt more than appropriate... It felt like destiny.

Her lips parted, Emily felt her mother's tongue pass 
between them and massage her own tongue. She did not 
expect it, but her hips suddenly jolted against her 
mother's own in a primal thrust. Emily had never known 
such pleasure, not from a man, a woman, or even 
herself. She felt an expanding heat in the pit of her 
stomach move downward into her vagina, a tingling surge 
of energy until then entirely alien. She returned the 
loving kisses with her own tongue and again the pair 
fell into an embrace.

Until now, Emily's hands had wrested on the curve of 
Catherine's hips, but only because she restrained 
another desire. Since childhood, Emily had known the 
touch and feel of her mother's breasts. She and her 
other sister's had bathed their mother's body hundreds 
of times; but never had Emily previously felt this 
need, this uncontrollable desire to touch the round, 
heaving flesh of her mother's bosom. 

Overcome with desire, the daughter began to move her 
hands upward along Catherine's body, cupping them in 
anticipation. But Emily wondered if this was the true 
purpose of her mother's sudden loving caresses and 
kisses. How would Catherine react to her own daughter's 
sexual fondling? Emily hesitated and her hands froze in 
mid-air, four inches from their destination.

Removing her hands from Emily's hair, but still kissing 
her deep and lovingly, Catherine grabbed hold of her 
daughter's thin, fragile wrists and guided her tiny 
hands to her own plentiful flesh. Both women erupted 
with involuntary moans, the first uttered sounds in 
their lovemaking. 

Emily felt a satisfied joy at the feel of her mother's 
soft, heavy breasts cupped in her hands. She ran her 
fingers around on the skin of Catherine's bosom, 
feeling the natural curve and fullness. When Catherine 
broke off their prolonged kissing and again looked deep 
and inviting into her daughter's eyes, Emily knew she 
had the permission she desired. Without being told, 
still on her knees on the bed, Emily leant down and 
pressed her lips against her mother's right breast. She 
felt her mother, still standing at the foot of the bed, 
lean in and heard a drawn out, heavy breath escape her 
mother's mouth. 

Kneading Catherine's flesh with her hands, Emily moved 
her kisses over to the left breast, this time pressing 
her soft young lips against her mother's nipple. It was 
a deep kiss, with a flick of the tongue. Catherine 
tensed with the warmth and wetness against her nerves 
while Emily smiled slightly at the first time 
exchanging such intimacy with a woman.

Her attentions having disappeared completely into the 
inviting flesh of an older woman, Emily became aware of 
every nerve and sense about her body being stimulated 
into awareness. "Lay down, darling," she heard her 
mother say and she obeyed. Emily reluctantly drew away, 
sliding backward on the bed and lay back on the bed, 
her legs extended out and pressed together while her 
arms stretched luxuriously across the mattress. 

Catherine climbed onto the bed, holding herself above 
her daughter with her arms and then slowly lowering 
herself down upon her, her bare feet rubbing along the 
outside of Emily's legs. The mother's hips began to 
grind in rhythmic circles against the abdomen of her 
daughter, who felt the steamy moisture from between 
Catherine's legs first pool on her stomach and then run 
down between her own legs. They kissed for several 
minutes and held each other, sighing and breathing 
heavy in the thralls of lust.

Catherine broke off their kissing and sat abruptly up, 
still grinding her voluptuous hips against Emily. After 
awhile she slowly slid off of her daughter's body and 
lay down next to her on the bed. Reaching her hand 
beneath her daughter's neck, she guided Emily on top of 
her. The 17 year old girl rolled over to Catherine's 
side of the bed willingly, not sure of what was to come 
but hungry for whatever it may be. 

"I want you to kiss me," Catherine said and Emily 
leaned down toward her mother's inviting mouth. Before 
their lips touched, Catherine placed two fingers over 
her daughter's mouth and said, "No." 

Emily stopped and looked down inquisitively, eager to 
please in whatever way possible. Beneath her, she felt 
Catherine's legs spread open. She watched as her mother 
reached down between her own legs and began caressing 
her own vagina. Emily looked back up at her mother's 
face, which now shined with a devious smile. Young 
Emily had never heard of such a thing as two women 
doing the kind of things they had already done, much 
less of anything resembling oral sex.

But Emily knew her instructions and sought nothing more 
than to display perfect obedience to her mother's 
desires. Crawling backward on the bed she laid herself 
down upon her stomach between Catherine's opened legs. 
Emily's bent her own legs so that they didn't hang off 
the edge of the bed. Again she looked at her mother, a 
nervous curiosity sweeping through her mind. 

She already felt the balmy heat of her mother's 
glistening pussy against her face and watched her 
mother massage her outer lips, hips rolling ever so 
slightly in a circular pattern. Catherine said not a 
word, only looking back down at her daughter, who she 
knew would fulfill the request.

Hopeful to alleviate some of her own nervousness, Emily 
began rubbing her hands up and down her mother's fleshy 
thighs, kneading the skin and letting her fingertips 
come over so closely to the hairy mound between them. 
Meanwhile, she placed the tender kisses of a loving 
daughter along Catherine's inner thighs, her tongue 
lapping at the skin which was still golden even there 
in a most private area. 

Finally her hands settled on her own mother's wrists, 
and felt them sway up and down inside her grip as her 
mother masturbated. Emily's tongue moved to the sweaty 
crease of flesh connecting her mother's thigh to her 
glistening opening. She savored the salty flavor of her 
mother's sweat, taking her time to run circles with her 
tongue that continued moving inward toward Catherine's 
wet mound.

Both women shuddered at the first touch of Emily's 
innocent tongue to Catherine's pink, moist opening. 
Catherine had pulled her outer lips open to allow Emily 
her first taste of a woman and the first touch of 
Emily's lower lip to her clitoris sent a jolt through 
Catherine's legs that shook the mattress. 
Simultaneously, the first firey taste of pussy to 
Emily's mouth caused her to pull back in shock. But 
slowly the tongue returned, touching gently at first, 
as if testing the waters and then dove back in with 
long, caressing strokes up and down across Catherine's 
soft, glistening opening. Soon the once unfamiliar 
taste seemed a pleasure and the girl could feel the 
sensations of lustful hunger pulsing within her own 
vagina.

But a good daughter always obeys and Emily had to think 
of her mother first. She could feel all the muscle in 
Catherine's body pushing down through the hips, against 
Emily's face. Pleased to have her mother's warm love 
juices spread around her face and dripping off of her 
chin, Emily seemed to instinctively know what to do. A 
good, innocent daughter to the end, Emily had never 
once masturbated in all her life. 

The pleasures of sexuality and the body had always been 
off limits to young girls of her upbringing and she 
feared the punishment of God if she entertained the 
urge to touch herself in supposedly inappropriate 
areas. But through the gasps and heaving movements of 
her mother, Emily eventually found a tiny, swelled 
button of flesh not far above Catherine's tasty 
opening. 

The first time she let her tongue stray there, Emily 
felt her mother's hips shiver rapidly. Briefly 
returning to lap at Catherine's pussy lips, Emily 
decided to try once more at the pink nub above. Again 
her mother quaked, this time gasping for breath with an 
audible sigh. Emily stayed there, circling Catherine's 
swollen clitoris with her tongue in a swirling rhythm 
that had her mother gasping, shifting, and grinding out 
of control.

Most erotic for Emily was the sound of her mother's 
voice panting, rapidly taking in and releasing breath 
in the thralls of ecstasy. She felt as if she and her 
mother had become one being, as the moving of Emily's 
tongue, the pulsating of Catherine's hips, and 
Catherine's spastic, short breaths seem to all move 
along the same heart-beat like rhythm toward a 
magnificent crescendo. Emily's young hands held loosely 
onto her mother's hips, rolling with them as they 
rocked and shook across the bed sheets. 

Suddenly Emily felt her mother's hips shoot quickly 
into the air and Emily rose her head up with it, 
continuing to press her tongue against her mother's 
clit. As Catherine shuddered through a long, ecstatic 
orgasm, her hips vibrated with an unconscious tremor 
against her daughter's face. Emily continued to lap and 
circle and kiss in the same pattern and a beast-like 
squeal suddenly escaped from somewhere deep inside of 
Catherine and whispered from open mouth, a sound Emily 
had never heard before. 

Catherine's hips fell abruptly back onto the bed 
sheets, grinding in a softer, gentler pattern now. 
Still Emily licked her mother's beautiful vagina. 
Catherine, her body still shivering with the effects of 
the orgasm, ran her fingers through Emily's hair and, 
after a few minutes, pulled her head up for a long 
kiss. Both women moaned with the pleasurable taste of 
Catherine's pussy as it passed between their lips.

As they kissed, Catherine rolled so that she was now on 
top of her daughter. They writhed and twisted and 
hugged and intertwined for an eternity on the bed. The 
feel of Catherine's flesh rubbing against her body made 
Emily shudder at times, her legs jolting up and hooking 
around her mother's thighs. Suddenly Catherine lifted 
her head up to look down at her daughter. 

Emily's eyes were half-closed, inebriated with a 
narcotic sexuality. Her forehead glistened with sweat 
and her hair spilled across the entirety of her pillow. 
Her mouth opened in closed with slow, drawn out, 
wordless breaths that Catherine understood all too 
well. So it was left to Catherine to speak.

"Do you understand, now, some of what your true nature 
really is?" the mother asked, running her left hand 
gently along the top of Emily's hair.

"I am your daughter," replied Emily, "completely, 
forever." She paused and then, opening her eyes and 
looking dead into her mother's eyes with a confidence 
she had not been able to muster since childhood, said, 
"I love you."

Emily had said such words to Catherine countless time 
before. Yet this time there was a fuller meaning, a 
deeper understanding that made them more valuable, like 
a seed grown into the fully bloomed rose. Catherine 
smiled contentedly back. "I love you, too," she said.

Catherine let both of her hands slide down the sides of 
her daughter's slim, milk-white torso. She could feel 
the gentle inward curve at the waist and, further down, 
the boney expansion of a young girl's hips. She held 
firmly onto Emily's hips and, looking into her 
daughter's peaceful eyes, lifted the hips and began to 
turn them over. 

Emily rolled the rest of her body in obedience and, 
again at the suggestion of her mother's hands, lifted 
her hips into the air so that her knees were tucked up 
under her belly and her buttocks were raised and spread 
slightly apart before her mother. Emily wrested her 
elbows and forearms on the pillow beneath her. She had 
no idea what her mother intended to teach her next, but 
knew that she never before felt so much trust and love 
for another person in her young life.

Catherine knelt on the bed, her knees on either side of 
Emily's feet. Reaching forward, she ran both hands down 
the crease of her daughter's backbone. Emily's skin was 
as smooth as it was pale, unblemished by hardship and 
glowing with moonlit innocence. Catherine's hands 
rounded slowly over the rump of her daughter's butt and 
paused there, sliding instead inward, to trace the 
soft, untouched skin between her buttocks. 

Emily felt two fingers begin at the base of her spine 
and slide slowly, sensually down over her anus and 
further still down to her own wet pussy lips, which the 
fingers preceded to caress; gently at first and then 
with a steady, purposeful pressure.

As her mother's fingers parted her outer labia, Emily 
let her head fall against the pillow. She had never 
even dared touched herself in such a way and the thrill 
of sexual awakening echoed through her every fiber of 
her skin. She pushed back with her hips to open herself 
more to her mother's fondling and reveal a full view 
over her privates for her mother's enjoyment. Her head 
buried in the pillow, Emily could not see her mother, 
but she could feel Catherine's fingers begin to press 
inside her vagina. 

A virgin, Emily had never experienced penetration 
before, but she no longer had a hymen and Catherine's 
fingers began to probe deeper. Emily, long fearful of 
the pain of the first time having sex, was surprised to 
feel only increasing pleasure as she felt herself 
opened by the first intrusion of her mother's middle 
finger.

Having inserted the middle finger of her right hand, 
Catherine began rotating her wrist in half-circle 
twists inside of the teenager's pussy. She smirked with 
delight at watching her own daughter's spine twist and 
arch with each swirl of the hand. Emily was quiet, 
barely breathing, but Catherine knew this was only a 
signal of the pleasure the girl was feeling at that 
moment. She knew the desire to focus on every movement, 
every flutter, and every touch when young and 
inexperienced. 

When she slid the ring finger on the same hand inside 
as well, so that Emily now had two of her mother's 
fingers inside of her, Catherine began a pumping in-
and-out motion, with the palm down, running the tips of 
her experienced fingers over the still swelling g-spot 
not far inside Emily's dampening hole. With her left 
hand, Catherine massaged her own pussy, which still 
dripped from the moisture of her daughter's kisses 
earlier in their love-making.

Emily could not believe the sensations rushing through 
her. Her brain seemed overcome with a fuzzy, delirious 
tingle. So much of her body had gone numb with 
pleasure, and yet she could feel every erotic detail of 
the movements and sensations along the interior of her 
vagina as her mother's gentle strokes continued to 
pulse in and out of the girl's petite body.

Catherine wondered if Emily even noticed that she was 
involuntarily rocking back and forth, fucking her 
mother's fingers. The older woman began to see now the 
signs of impending orgasm in her daughter, signs that 
Emily had no way of seeing even in herself. Catherine 
watched with pride for her daughter as she saw the 
first tremors along Emily's spine and heard the 
instinctive gasps for air. Emily's hips swirled now in 
a rapid circle and pressed all the way down to the end 
of Catherine's fingers. Catherine could see her toes 
curl and her legs begin to shake.

Emily was having the first orgasm of her life. As it 
happened, she knew only that she was experiencing an 
explosion of sensations through the body and brain that 
she wished would continue forever. She bit into the 
pillow like an animal, as if natural pleasure had 
brought out some primal truth, some awakening of a 
beast inside of herself.

Listening to the pillow-muffled sighs of her daughter, 
Catherine continued caressing the inside of Emily's 
pussy with her two fingers as the orgasm subsided. Her 
other hand remained between her own legs, still 
massaging her own wet pussy. As Emily's body relaxed 
into a peaceful afterglow, yet another feeling she had 
never known, Catherine leaned forward, removing her 
hand from her own pussy and inserted the fingers, 
slippery with Catherine's pussy juice, into her 
daughter's mouth. 

Emily willingly opened her mouth and closed her young 
lips around the fingers, running her tongue up and down 
the length to lap up the wonderful taste of her 
mother's body. Having felt the fingers of Catherine's 
other hand leave her pussy, Emily rolled over, still 
sucking on her mother's juices, and looked up at the 
older woman longingly. Catherine was licking Emily's 
pussy fluid off of her other hand, making sure not to 
miss a drop.

Emily wrapped her legs around her mother's hips, 
resting her soft, tiny feet against the bountiful flesh 
of her mother's buttocks. She pulled in close and 
Catherine bent down so that her body was elevated only 
slightly above that of her daughter. Emily could feel 
her mother's long nipples rubbing on her stomach and 
the sensation reawakened her sexual passions again. The 
pair engaged in a long kiss, exchanging body fluids and 
sighing with each flicker of the tongue and pressing of 
the lips.

In between kisses, Emily told Catherine that she loved 
her and that she wanted to stay like this forever. "I 
am yours, Mother," she continued, "and you have taught 
me my true pleasures and place in life."

Catherine kissed Emily again and then, taking her lips 
away, said, "No. You know so little, darling. Your 
training is far from over and you will not be truly 
loyal until you complete your lessons." Emily was 
stunned. She could imagine no scenario where she would 
betray her mother and break their bond. She wanted 
desperately to prove this.

"Mother," whispered Emily between long, sexual breaths, 
"I am. I am. I am yours completely. Nothing can break 
us apart. My love for you is undying and forever and I 
will never serve another in the way that I serve you. I 
will do anything you ask. Anything."

"You still have much to learn, Emily" Catherine 
replied. "Things which you cannot yet begin to fathom, 
but things you will have to learn." Emily's only 
response was to hug her mother, bringing their nude 
bodies tightly against each other.

Minutes later, Emily finally spoke. "I want to learn 
more now, Mother. I will do as you instruct." At this, 
Catherine rose once more, supporting herself with her 
arms and letting the ends of her long, brown hair fall 
flutter over Emily's shoulders. She had a look in her 
eyes that looked almost like distrust, as if she were 
judging various possibilities about Emily. Emily stared 
back, an honest, questioning look in her own eyes. 

Finally Catherine ordered her daughter to get up from 
the bed and stand at the bedside. Emily obeyed and 
watched as her mother moved to the bed's edge and 
rolled over so that her hips hung over the edge, her 
legs hanging toward the floor. Catherine moved her 
hands to her rear and spread her buttocks open, 
revealing her anus to her daughter's view. Emily 
immediately blushed and looked away. But, overcome with 
a bizarre temptation, looked down at her mother. 
Between the mounds of flesh and tiny hairs lay the 
button-sized opening of Catherine's ass. It looked soft 
to Emily, almost inviting.

Suddenly Emily became aware, without being told, of 
what it was her mother wanted. She took one step closer 
and then knelt, putting her knees together between 
Catherine's feet. Slowly and hesitantly, Emily brought 
both of her hands together and pressed her fingers 
against her mother's asshole. She began to massage it 
and was quite curious to feel the soft contours of the 
hole. It was not wet, like the vagina, but still had an 
inviting warmth. Emily brought her head close and 
pressed her face between her mother's buttocks, taking 
her first lick of asshole. 

She did not know what to expect and really tasted very 
little, it was actually the softness of the anus, how 
it bent under the press of her tongue, that made 
Emily's pussy wet again. She licked again and again, 
with longer strokes each time. Soon she was rolling her 
tongue in circles around the circumference of her 
mother's butt hole, noticing that it contracted with 
each of her mother's gasps. Catherine pulled her ass 
even further apart to allow for Emily to bury her head 
deeper in her ass. 

Emily moved her tongue down into the hole, pressing 
slightly with her fingers to allow her tongue a brief 
entry into the pink interior of Catherine's butt. The 
taste was salty and exotic, tempting Emily to continue. 
Using both finger's she pulled her mother's asshole 
open slightly, hearing Catherine gasp at the stretching 
sensation. Emily then pressed her tongue deeper into 
Catherine and tickled the anus walls, about an inch 
inside, with the tip of her tongue. She felt a sudden 
joy at having discovered yet another way to serve her 
mother.

Having moved her hands down to her pussy, Catherine was 
masturbating as her daughter ate her asshole out. 
Within two minutes she had had her first orgasm and a 
second came just thirty seconds later. When a third 
orgasm was completed a few minutes later, Catherine 
rose to her feet. She was surprised to see that Emily 
did not stop licking, but rather continued to tongue 
Catherine's butt even as Catherine stood up. Catherine 
had to turn around to signal Emily to stop. The 
daughter remained on her knees, looking up at her 
mother with a new smile, not one of innocent love but 
one of experienced knowledge, someone a step closer to 
a confident knowledge of her true worth and desires.

Catherine her knees to bring her face just above 
Emily's, giving her daughter a loving kiss and tasting 
her own ass on Emily's lips. "You're a good girl," 
Catherine said. "But still your lessons are not over. 
We are done for the night. It is late and I must return 
to my bed chamber before the servants discover me 
missing and disturb Samuel."

Catherine then got a very serious look on her face and 
said with a tone of caution, "You must never tell 
Samuel or anyone else of our lessons tonight. Their 
society does not except who we are and does not allow 
us to live as we are. In time, through my instruction, 
you will become a full woman, part of a tradition 
others seek to destroy." Emily looked confused, not 
understanding why she must hide the reasons for her 
happiness from those who care for her. "This is 
important," Catherine continued. "Your and our 
survival, and the survival of our love, depends on 
this."

Still confused, but feeling sure of her devotion, Emily 
replied that she would obey without condition. They 
shared one last goodnight kiss and Catherine tucked her 
daughter into her bed. Emily Blake rose the next 
morning an awakened woman, passionate and hungry to 
learn the pleasures of life from the guidance and 
tutelage of her loving mother.

To be continued?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Kristen's collection - Directory 44