My Prom Date

by Kathy-Anne Niemann

The following story contains sexual scenes between an older woman and a younger girl. If this offends you, please don't read it. This is purely a work of fiction. All characters and situations are fictional. All rights reserved. If you like it or have any pointers for me, feel free to email me at [email protected]. Enjoy!

When I was sixteen, I was the most awkward, socially ungraceful strip of a girl at my entire school. I spent most of my time with my nose in books, huge sweeping fantasy novels by Anne McCaffrey and Robert Jordan. I never dated, and never looked at boys, because boys never looked at me. My hair was brown and plain, stringy with neglect. My eyes were hidden behind huge, coke-bottle glasses. I never took care of my skin, and so, I always had a problem with acne. I'd been a brace face since I was 12, and I was usually clothed myself in baggy sweatshirts and jeans.

Time for my Junior Prom came, and my Mom heard about it through a friend of hers, whose own daughter was in my class. Mom asked if I was going, and I said no, because I didn't have a date. In reality, I had no intention of going, even if someone had asked me. I couldn't imagine what I'd do with myself at one of those things.

Finally, my Mom, fed up with my awkwardness, and wanting to teach me something about life outside my bedroom and my stacks of dog eared paperbacks, said she was taking me to the prom. I protested, but she was adamant. She said it was time I got out of myself and into other people.

She took us to a beauty salon at nine o'clock the morning of the dance. If I was ugly and awkward, my Mom was the exact opposite. She'd divorced my dad when I was young, preferring to raise me by herself. She paid very close attention to her figure, spending a lot of time at the health club working out. She dressed nice, and she always looked great. The beauty salon we went to that morning was her normal salon and she knew all the girls (and one flamboyantly gay guy) who worked there.

"Give her the works," Mom ordered. "Spare no expense."

While two women went to work on me, Mom left me to go shopping for dresses. They scuplted and painted my toenails, sanded all the rough spots off my feet. They worked over my chewed down fingernails, and put weird smelling creams all over my face. They gave me a bikini wax, which let me tell you was the most embarassing and painful experiences of my young life. By the time Mom came back an hour later, I was a hundred percent prettier than I had been when I entered the place. My mom was astounded. She made such a fuss. I begged her to see what dress she'd bought me, but she wouldn't let me.

After that, we took a mud bath. Sliding naked into the heavy mud was a strange experience, but Mom said it always made her feel rejuvenated and relaxed afterward. I have to admit she was right.

Then, we got our hair done. The gay guy, who went by the name Precious, put blond highlights in my plain hair, bathed it in conditioners and shampoos, and derided me for not taking better care of myself. I was mostly silent, because I didn't know how to act around someone so bouncy and loud and obnoxious. He piled my hair on top of my head in what he called a bee hive, and set it with an enormous amount of hairspray. Finally, they did our makeup. I continually fought the urge to reach up and scratch my face, and had to admit that the final result was not altogether unpleasant. When we left the salon, I actually felt like a woman, not an awkward teenager. Mom paid with a credit card, and I didn't even look at how much she paid, but I knew it had to be a small fortune.

We drove home, excited and nervous. It was four o'clock by now, and we had to get ready for the dance. Mom said she was taking me to a fancy dinner before hand, and then we'd walk in to the dance and it would be like a bomb went off.

Only when I was home, in my room, did I get to see the dress Mom got for me. It was white mostly, with a yellow accent along the skirt. Spaghetti straps attached to the satin bodice, which was embroidered with little yellow butterflies. There were matching satin gloves, and cute shoes with a tiny little heel on them. Mom had bought me a white strapless bra, and a matching pair of panties. All this stuff had to have cost at least as much as the day at the salon.

Stepping in front of the mirror after I'd dressed, was like looking at the ugly duckling finally changing into the swan. I looked amazing. Like someone in a beauty magazine. Like a movie star. Like a model. It was the first time in my life I actually felt like a woman. I had to admit, I liked how it felt.

Mom knocked on my door and asked if I was ready. I said I was and I made her count to three before she opened my door. When she flung the door open we got our first good looks at each other.

My. Mom. Looked. Gorgeous.

Her dress was black velvet and stopped at mid-calf. The bodice was gold lace. She had on five inch strappy heels and black hose. Her neck was clasped in a black choker. Her hair was perfect, her makeup was perfect.

She got a glimpse of me and a wave of emotions crossed her face. "My god," she said. "You are an angel!" She was on the verge of tears, but she didn't want to ruin her makeup, so we laughed to break the tension. She kept looking me up and down, and I was embarassed by her gaze.

Finally, she snapped out of her trance. "Well," she said, "are you ready for dinner?"

"Yep," I said.

Dinner was at a chic little bistro in the swanky area of town. We walked in looking like dynamite and every head turned. I had never had this many people paying attention to me in my entire life. I don't remember what I had for dinner, I kept watching other people watching me and my mom, absently chewing my food, and loving, absolutely loving, all this attention. Again, Mom paid with her credit card, and I didn't see how much she'd spent.

Then, it was time for the dance.

We parked, and Mom reached into her handbag, pulling out a silvery flask. She unscrewed the lid and took a sip of what was inside. When she swallowed it, she made a face, and started to screw the lid back on. Then, she looked at me, and offered me the flask. "What is it?" I asked.

"Peppermint Schnapps," she said. "Just have a little."

The drink was warm and certainly pepperminty. It made me shiver, and I felt the warmth sliding down my neck.

She giggled. "Just a little pick-me-up!"

Mom and I walked into the school's gym, and we kept getting all these strange looks. After a few moments, I realized that the looks were people trying to figure out who I was. The change I'd gone through in just the past day was so complete that it must have been hard to believe I was the same person. I grabbed my Mom's hand in my gloved one and said, "I want to thank you for doing all this."

Again, her smile was filled with emotion. "Thanks for going along with me."

"No, I mean it," I said. "This can't have been cheap. I want you to know I really appreciate it."

"Well, you're welcome," Mom said, once again looking me up and down. "Shall we dance?" she asked.

We danced with crazy abandon. Every now and then, people in my class would keep coming up to me and saying, "Oh my God, is that Angela?" They made such a stink over me. All this fuss, I was beginning to think I was actually as pretty as they thought I was. I was planning to rid my closet of every single sweatshirt. I was toying with the idea of joining the volleyball team.

Mom and I held each other close as we danced. The music, some sexy R&B number, played in the background. Everywhere, couples clung to each other. The disco lights spun and flitted around the room, and the gym was like another world. I rested my head on my mother's bosom, and her hand moved up and down my back as we swayed back and forth.

"I can't believe no one in this room asked you to the dance!" my mom said, gazing around the gym. She looked down at me, and deep into my eyes. "If I was one of the girls in this room, I'd be all over you." She mumbled this last under her breath, and I just barely heard it.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"Nothing," she told me. She paused, searching for the right words. Her mouth opening and closing as her eyes danced around. She saw that I was demnading an answer to my question, and finally spoke up. "It's just that you're an incredibly beautiful girl, and it breaks my heart to think that none of these people can see it."

I blushed and looked away.

She reached into her handbag, and checked a few times over each of her bare shoulders. She took a hit off her flask of Schnapps, and offered me a taste. I took one. After the flask was away, Mom took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and then sighed it out. "Can I tell you a secret?" she said.

"Sure."

"I'm gay," she said.

"Gay?"

"I mean, a lesbian."

"Wow," I said, completely floored by this announcement. "For how long?" Was the only thing I could think to ask.

"I don't know," she said. "Maybe forever. I just now am coming to realize it."

"Well," I said, "Good for you."

"You're the only person who knows," she offered. "Besides me, I mean."

"I'm honored," I said. Truthfully, I was running on automatic. After this amazing day I'd had, my mom was coming out to me. The hits just kept on coming! I didn't feel weird about it at allm though. To tell the truth, I was probably a little relieved. I'd never seen my mom date much, and if it was because she was interested in women, she might get out there and find herself someone she could be really happy with.

"Thanks for understanding," she said.

We danced a while in silence. Mom reached into her handbag and had another snort of Schnapps. I had one as well.

Her voice was loud. "So, you mean to tell me that none of these boys ever flirt with you?"

"No," I said.

"You never catch them staring at you?"

I shook my head.

"You never catch any of these girls checking you out when you're changing for gym class?"

"No!" I blurted out. That was the worst part of my day. The last thing in the world I'd want to do while changing out of my clothes would be to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.

"And you never check any of them out?"

"NO!" I said, with an uncomfortable laugh.

"Don't you want to have sex?"

"MOM!"

"I mean, don't you at all feel the urge to get laid?" I stammered for a moment. "I suppose I do, but I always figured that kind of thing was for other people."

"It's for everyone," she told me.

We danced the entire evening. Every now and then, we'd have hits on her flask. I was feeling a little dizzy, and Mom cut me off so I wouldn't pass out or puke or anything. "I have an idea," Mom said. "Let's go to a hotel tonight."

"Okay," I said.

"I mean, like the swankiest, poshest hotel in town. On the top floor."

"Are you serious?" I asked. "You've already spent so much money tonight!"

"It's only money," she said. "I'm having the best night of my life, and I don't want it to end. I want to get room service, and eat a bacon cheeseburger. I want to sit in a bubble bath the size of a car."

Between laughing, I said, "That sounds good to me!"

We snuck out of the dance, and we got into the car. We listened to loud music and laughed as she drove. We arrived at the downtown Hilton, parked the car, and made our way to the front desk. The guy behind the counter gave us a strange look when Mom asked for a room, and especially when she said we didn't have any bags to check, but he gave it to us without any hassle.

The bellboy accopmanied us up to the room, on the thirtieth floor, and opened the room for us. Once the door was shut, Mom flopped onto the bed, and picked up the phone. She ordered room service for us. Two bacon cheesburgers, a plate of french fries, and cokes. She tacked on a bottle of chilled champagne and two glasses.

Mom turned on the TV, flipped it to a music channel she liked, and grabbed me by the waist. "I want to keep dancing," she told me. I laughed as she twirled me around. I had never seen my Mom so happy. Maybe it was the relief of finally coming out of the closet, maybe it was the schnapps, or maybe it was a combination of those things. She whirled and turned, her dress billowing up, her hair flying recklessly.

She grabbed me again, and tenderly put her hands on either side of my face. "I'm going to do something I probably shouldn't," she said.

With that, she leaned in and kissed me. No big deal, she'd kissed me hundreds of times. But this was something more. The way she closed her eyes, and slowly leaned in, the way her lips lingered on mine, the way she opened her lips and licked mine with her tongue.

I pulled away from her, and she immediately withdrew. "Oh God, I'm sorry," she said.

I didn't know what to say. My mind was whirling. I enjoyed my first kiss, but felt weird that it had been with my mother. "I knew I shouldn't have done that," she said. "I just felt so good, and you're so gorgeous, and..." My lips still tingled from where she had kissed me. I put my finger to them, touching them lightly. It had felt wrong, but perhaps that's what made it feel so right.

"Oh God, I'm a horrible mother. I'm a terrible person wanting to have sex with my daughter. My own flesh and..."

She didn't finish the sentence because I'd moved across the room and had cradled her own face in my hands, mashing my lips to hers. This time I opened my mouth, and our tongues met. My hands moved up and down her back. She ran her fingers through my hair. I cannot explain the wanting I felt. It was like the past sixteen years of self-absorption that had been corked up inside me had just been freed. I realized that if anyone before her had shown me the slightest bit of interest, I would have been doing this with them. The fact that it was my mother made it all the more forbidden and dangerous. We both cooed and moaned as we kissed, we clamped onto each other for dear life.

"Are you sure you want this?" Mom asked, leading me toward the bed.

I breathed the affirmative as I kissed her neck. "I should tell you, though. I'm a virgin."

She laughed hard at this. Tears formed in her eyes as she held me close to her. Her laughter stopped abruptly when I reached under my left armpit and began unzipping my dress. I shrugged out of the straps, and the delicate material fell to the ground, leaving me in the white strapless bra and white panties she'd bought for me earlier that day.

She walked toward me, gathering her hair up above her head. "Help Mama out of her dress?" she said, turning around.

I unzipped the back of her dress, and slid the straps of her shoulders. It fell away and she stood with her back to me for a while, dressed only in a pair of black silk panties. She hadn't worn a bra. I let my hands roam over her sleek stomach, her gorgeous breasts (which were firm, but not as firm as mine). My hand snuck down to the waistband of her panties, and I cheated a finger inside them.

She moaned and breathed as I explored her from behind. "I've wanted this for a long time," she whispered. "Ever since I bought you your first training bra." By now, my hand was all the way inside her panties, my perfectly manicured fingernails scratching lightly at her shaven mons. "I never thought I could get up the courage to ask you," she breathed. She turned around and faced me, which forced my hand down and underneath her. The look on her face as I tickled her slit was priceless. "I guess that's what tonight was all about. I guess the whole thing was me trying to get up the courage."

"Are you going to fuck me?" I asked, looking deeply into her brown eyes, "or stand there and talk all night?"

She shoved me by the shoulders, and I fell onto the bed. I watched her slink out of her panties, and kick them across the room. She moved forward like a cat, and pulled my own panties (soaking wet) off my hips. Placing gentle kisses up my body as she moved forward, she put her hands behind me to undo my bra. I raised my back up, allowing her access. The bra came away, and she sucked on my diamond-hard nipples as she flung it across the room.

We kissed as our hands automatically went to the others' pussy. Her fingers deftly explored me as my clumsy, inexperienced ones tried to mimic what she was doing. When she slipped a finger insde me, it was the most delicious thing I had ever felt. I reciprocated, and we worked each other closer to climax.

Suddenly, she stopped, swiveling around to switch positions. She spread her legs, and opened mine, scooting her self closer to me. We rubbed our pussies against each others', slowly at first, then faster and faster. I liked this position. It seemed more intimate, and allowed us to look at each others faces. Our moans of ecstacy were so loud, I would have worried about people in other rooms hearing us, if I wasn't so caught up in the rapture in my nether regions. I came hard, orgasms racking my body.

Without giving me time to recover, Mom slid down off the bed, sliding me toward her. She spread my legs and hungrily licked me, never taking her eyes off mine. We knitted our fingers together as she worked. Soon, the rapture took me over again. I clenched and writhed as I reveled in delight.

Collapsing again, Mom tried to move onto me, hungry for more. I was too weak, too exhausted to go again, but my Mom seemed insatiable.

Soon, a knock came at the door. Mom donned a robe and went to fetch the room service. We sat back naked on the bed, eating our enormous fatty food, trying to recover our energy.

She let the burger's juice drip onto various parts of her body and I would lick it off. At one point, she held it over her bald pussy and let the juice drip onto her. Knowing it was time to go again, I moved down her body and pushed my face into her crotch. She taught me where to go and what to do, when to lick and when to bite. When she came, she held her breath to intensify the orgasm.

Eventually, we fell asleep, entangled in each other.

In the morning, we went back to our normal lives, but things had definitely changed between us. Mom was happier being a lesbian, and although I still liked guys more, I always remembered fondly the night my Mom took me to the prom.