Chapter 5
The most difficult meeting I had ever had with my daughter occurred just two days later. The tension in the household ran high, and it was only my fear that made me postpone the inevitable. I had gambled on my instinctive awareness that Billie would not call her father until she had had words with me. And my gamble paid off.
Billie had spent most of her first two days' vacation in her room, her sullen countenance emerging from behind her bedroom door only at mealtimes. All of us, including Mark, ate in silence. None of us tried to break through the heavy atmosphere that hung like a shroud over the household.
The wait gave me time to build up my confidence and to again regain the feeling of being in control of the situation. More than ever, I realized that in spite of the fact Mark had shown evidences of being a man, he was, underneath it all, still a little boy who enjoyed playing games. The hurt Billie was experiencing was on more levels than just losing her lover. I was certain she also felt betrayed, as well as abandoned, by the fact she was convinced something had occurred between Mark and myself.
I had half-expected her to show up in my bedroom late at night to confront me with her knowledge, but she apparently had' not felt up to it. Yet I knew it was important that we talk together. It took all the courage I had that Monday morning to send Mark to the grocery store and on other errands that would take up most of the day so I could talk with Billie.
As soon as Mark left, I went immediately up to her bedroom, not even bothering to do the breakfast dishes.
"Billie?" I called through her door.
"Yeah?"
"It's your mother, dear. I'd like to talk to you. Can I come in."
"Door's open."
I went into her bedroom, closing the door after me. She was lying across her bed, staring out the window, her chin propped on two tightly-clenched fists.
"What you want, Mom?" She rolled across the bed, sitting up on the bedside, tucking her print blouse into her white shorts, before' squaring her shoulders and putting her hands on the knees of her parted legs. The look of boredom she feigned could hardly cover her anger as her dark brown eyes glared at me.
She was looking me up and down, as if I were scum.
"You've hardly said two words to me since you've been home, and I'd like to know why."
"Oh, great," she exclaimed, getting to her feet and dramatically stretching her arms outward as she strode over to the dresser and leaned against it, folding her arms in front of her chest. "My brother tells me he's been screwing my mom and you ask me what's the matter."
She looked at me with full accusation in her eyes but I detected enjoyment in her scowl.
"Is that what you think, dear?"
"That's what he told me. What should I think?"
I moved over to her bed and sat down, watching her. "Just suppose that were true, what he told you, Billie. What difference would that make to you?"
"What difference! Good god, Mom. The difference is, I couldn't respect you as my mother!"
"No?" I asked. "Why not?"
She looked exasperated and hit her fist against her thigh. "Well, do you think it's proper for a mother to have sex with her own son?"
"I think it's time you realized your mother is a human being, a woman, as well as the person who gave birth to you."
"I realize that, of course, but.. . . "
"But what, dear. You mean to tell me you've never done anything that wasn't proper?"
"Well, sure, I have. All the time, I don't do the right thing. But some things are sacred!" As emphasis, she clutched her hands into tight little fists, striking at the air in front of her chest with them.
"You know what I think, Billie? I think you and I ought to have a long talk, right now, woman-to-woman and just forget that we're mother and daughter."
"How can I possibly do that, Mother? That's impossible!"
"No, Billie. No it isn't. And we can start by your calling me Jill for a change. That's my name, you know."
"You're also my mother."
"But my given name is Jill. Maybe if you call me that, then you can talk to me with some compassion. Now come over here, on the bed, and sit down beside me."
I smiled, watching her in conflict as one side of her wanted to do as I wished her to, and the other side wanted nothing to do with me at all. But I knew I had won, even before she put her hands against the drawers of her dresser arid pushed her body in my direction.
"All right," she said, sitting down next to me. "All right, Jill. I'll try it."
"Now I want to tell you where I'm coming from, Billie."
At first, while listening to me talk, she sat on the side of the bed, staring straight ahead. I leveled with her totally, knowing that was the only way it would happen right. I told her I had overheard her talk with Mark, and had learned she was a lesbian. She tensed, hearing me say the word that she had dared not utter in my presence, but I assured her I understood, that in the realm of love, there was never a right or wrong, just the feeling of it, of love, and that that love was the most important treasure in life. She relaxed, moving back on the bed, turning toward me and crossing her legs in front of her. I continued talking, explaining how lonely I had been and how upset I was when her father had left me. "After more than 21 years of marriage, that was a definite blow, Billie!"
"Why did he leave, Mother? No one ever told me."
"He left me because he found me in bed with another man. He thought it was all right for him to be with other women, but not for me to be with another man."
"He's such a male chauvinist pig!" Billie exclaimed.
I shrugged my shoulders and continued. I told her I hadn't had a man for ten months, and that I hadn't had a woman, either. She laughed at that, then listened intently when I told her I had found Mark with his girlfriend in the playroom, and that I had gotten turned on, and how I had gone to bed that night, excited, and began to recall my sexual feelings that I had had for my own children, including her.
"I turned you on?" she asked, her eyes lighting up.
"That's right," I answered her. "A lot of times. Even when you were a young baby. Believe me, it was hard for me to admit that my own daughter could turn me on. Easier for me to admit Mark had done that. 'Course I never told anyone. Can you imagine what your father would say if I told him that?"
"Oh, God," she said, covering her face with her hands. "That would have been a dumb thing to do."
"I wasn't that stupid, but I couldn't forget about it, either. And I guess, with Mark, I just got lost into the feeling of it."
"Then you did have sex with him."
"Yes."
The admission helped. She did not say much for a while, as she considered the import of my words, and was busy assimilating all the data I had fed her.
"I don't think it's fair, that you go to bed with Mark and won't go to bed with me," she said finally, pouting.
"But, Billie," I reminded her. "I didn't say I wouldn't go to bed with you, too."
That stopped her, and she stared straight into my eyes for the first time since I had come to her bedroom. "Well, I want my turn, too. Mark's been walking around like a cock on the walk ever since he told me. It's only fair that I have that experience, too."
"Then why don't we take off our clothes, Billie. Perhaps you can show me something a man can't."
"You first, Jill."
"Very well," I said, starting to unbutton my blue blouse. I removed that, then my navy pants, then my panties. She watched the exposed portions of my body with interest, then, full of life, slipped off the bed, and took off her blouse and shorts. The last to go for both of us was our bras.
"Get into bed, Ma. Under the covers. I've got a lot to show you."
"I'd like to be shown, Billie," I confessed, as I pulled the covers up and got between them.
Her body pressed against mine felt a good deal different than Mark's body, but it was a pleasurable experience. It was not necessary for me to direct her attentions to my breasts. Instinctively, she knew that was an area of sensuality for me and the first thing she did when she got under the covers was to begin to caress them ever so lovingly with her hands.
She was very gentle when she bent down to them, with her head, and began to tease the nipple of my right breast into erection. I watched her tiny mouth open, marveling at the realization it was not that much larger than it had been when she was a tiny baby, doing exactly the same thing. The smallness of her body was an additional excitation factor, and I put my arm around her head, letting it rest on the inside of my upper arm while she sucked my nipple directly into her mouth. She had no self-consciousness once she had the nipple of my breast between her lips. And I must say, she did do it expertly. The gentle tugs and nips to my nipple rapidly made it stiff and the movement of her tongue across the hole of my rosy bud flooded me with sensual feelings. Her small hands holding the flesh of my breast, her spread fingers digging lightly into it, enhanced the feeling she was generating in me. I doubt I had ever felt as protective toward her as I did then and I kept sliding into the strange awareness that she was not a grown woman, but still a little baby, needing the breast as much as I needed to give it to her.
"Oh, you sweet little thing. Oh, you wonderful girl. Oh, you fine daughter," I said, as she quickened the flicks of her tongue across the nipple and ever so gently surrounded my aureolae with her lips and began sucking very earnestly. Her flat tongue slid across the tip of my nipple every other suck she gave to it, and in a very short time, it became apparent that she had reached a high state of excitation herself.
She was no longer tentative in the sucking she was giving me. She had released herself into the moment, and it was passion she was transmitting to me as her sucks became more rapid and heated. She had glommed onto the nipple, was drawing it deep into her mouth, and I watched a goodly portion of my breast taken also between her lips and her teeth.
She looked as virginal as a tiny baby, happy and contented with my breast in her mouth. The color had returned to her sunken cheeks, and a healthy glow was beginning to emanate from her face. Several times, she rolled her eyes upward, to watch the effect her ministrations to my breast were having on me.
I was certain the expression on my face showed her how pleasurable it was for me. Again, I got that very strange feeling that she was sucking a substance out of my body and into her mouth, although I knew I had no breast milk for her. The feeling, however strange, was excruciating, was making me feel more tender toward her than I had felt in years. With the arm I held around her head, I brought her closer to me, and the intensity of her sucking was increased with my response.
"Just a minute, honey. Just a minute, dear. Let me give you the other one, the other breast, sweetie."
Dutifully, she opened her mouth while I took my right breast from her and turned on my side so she had access to my left breast. She clasped it in her hands, rolled it between her fingers, forcing it into a nice little cone from which my nipple pointed outward. She ran her finger across the tip of the nipple as if she were studying it. Then she opened her mouth, and with her hands, directed the tip into it. My aureolae, as well as the nipple, was soon bathed with her warm saliva, and just a second later, her wet tongue circled my nipple, pressed it toward her left cheek, then her right, and the wonderful sucking began again. She was locking onto it greedily, sucking on it as if she would never stop, never let it go.
I moved my arm down her back, forced her body against my own. The feeling of her thigh against my pubic bone created another surge of sexual, sensual feeling. It was an added excitation factor, to say the very least. I rolled over on my own thigh and she was soon pressing her cunt against my own while she continued to suck with intensity on my breast, still kneading the flesh surrounding my nipple with her hands. One hand left its breast position to move down my stomach, then my abdomen.
I felt her dainty hand slip through my pubic hairs and her small finger slide into the top of my slit. Finding such wetness between my legs make her suck on me more rapidly and the finger that had found my slot was weaving across my clitoris with similar, rapid movements as her tongue across my nipple. I moved my left leg back, letting it rest on the mattress and her finger pressed lower, deeper into my crack which was so wet and wanting.
She was enjoying the fact that she had turned me on so much and I got the feeling she was most interested in giving me an experience I would not forget, ever. I doubted if I ever could. She added two fingers to the one that was already wet with my juices and all three fingers slipped easily down my crack and back up.
She switched breasts, releasing my left nipple and taking the right back into her mouth while she dug her fingers deep into my crack. The pressure of her fingers soon led her to my vagina and her three fingers slid around the rim of it, pleasing it, before she inserted her fingers into it. Once they were in a couple of inches, she made them into a cone and rotated them, providing those warm membranes with such a delicate pleasure, it was indeed, unparalleled in my previous experience.
"Oh, Billie. Those fingers, your mouth, they are making me feel incredibly good. Oh, you sweet, wonderful girl, to do such a thing to your mother, to make her feel so good and sensual."
She pressed her fingers into my vagina deep as they would go and seemed upset that she could get no further in. Drawing her fingers out another time, she rapidly slid them up and down my spread pussy, pressing the heel of her palm hard against my mound, rocking it upward and backward. I spread my legs wider. That feeling that she had evoked was too great to do otherwise. My clitoris was throbbing with a rapidity that made me feel I never wanted her to stop and the little thrusts I made against her hand to increase and enhance my pleasure must have told her it was time to do more.
With a final upward roll of her eyes and an expression that said she was sorry, she left my breast and her head disappeared under the covers. Her tongue trailed down my stomach and my abdomen as she maneuvered down on the bed and got between my legs, first rolling me over on my back.
I felt the fingers of both her hands first, each providing my quim with great pleasure as they forced my vulva open. She breathed heavily across my clit, warming it for contact with her still warmer mouth. She dug her tongue into my crack, midway between my clit and my vagina, pausing as if she wasn't certain which portion to attend to first. The upward glide of her tongue did not disappoint me and I watched the covers of the bed rise as her head forced them up in the air.
When her tongue made direct contact with my clitoris, it was all I could do to keep from crying out. She slid that tongue across my entire clitoral mound, pressing membrane fold after membrane fold away from my clit. Her fingers aided the process, separating my lips and forcing my mound to elongate, to reveal the source of my pleasure.
Although I knew she could not directly see what was in front of her, her imagination was good, and I was happy that she had been with other women. The practice she had had was giving me pleasure of the highest sort. And when her mouth opened and covered my entire mound, when her tongue was sliding across my clit with the same expertise as it had across my nipple, there was no feeling in the world I had ever had that quite matched what I was feeling right at that moment. She sucked on my hot membranes and I could feel them rub against her teeth as she forced much of my mound deep into her mouth.
As soon as she had a firm hold on my mound, her tongue got busy, sliding across that portion that was most sensitive, warming it, making it throb all the more, and the way my legs spread wider, the way I arched my cunt upward, making more of my mound sink into her teeth, signaled to her the excitement I was experiencing. It was certainly so extreme, it was not possible for me to tell her about it. Words could not do that feeling justice. What she was doing was making all the skin on the back of my head tighten and all I could do was to open my mouth so my heavy breathing was facilitated.
Her expert mouth soon found the throbbing clitoris what was in such a state of excitation. When she began sucking on that small nub that filled my being with such passion, it was all I could do to keep from coming. Her fingers were not lax, they continued their slide up and down my wide-spread crack, eventually landing again in my vagina which was pressured inward with the steady strikes that permitted her to gain deep entry.
Good as that felt, it was merely the icing on the cake. The seat of my passion was occurring in the clit she was so nicely, so delicately sucking on. I got the impression she was sucking so hard it would leave my body and become a part of her.
But even that concern did not stop the upward swelling of my passion that made my clit feel it was so engorged that just another suck, another swipe of her warm tongue, would be sufficient to make it explode.
She seemed to sense how close I was to coming because all of her movements, her ministrations, became more rapid. With the strength in my legs and back, I lifted my entire torso up and not once did she stop her fast-sucking movements that were slowly driving me into a wonderful orgasmic state.
When it began to happen, I could not pinpoint. I was aware only of the passionate throb, of the wonderful feelings she was giving to my cunt. I was aware only that I could not last much longer. I was aware only of the way my mouth opened as wide as it could go and no sound came forth although it seemed my entire body wanted to express the depth of feeling she had culled in me, just by her sucks to my clit and the driving of her fingers into my vagina.
All time, all awareness seemed to stop then, as all my body processes were suspended in time and space. That feeling went on for what seemed like an eternity, before the floods of throbs occurring both in clit and vagina and all through my cunt rolled forth much like a huge wave that had crested for the longest time before it crashed with a thunderous roar. The orgasmic waves continued to rock and roll me and my buttocks rocked against the mattress as the orgasm sped to culmination, as her sucks became more intense, as she slammed her fingers deep as they could go into my vagina and held them there with all her strength.
"That's it, Billllie," I groaned. "That was it, darling. Oh, honey, it felt so good. Oh, baby, come up here and let me hold you close."
She made me wait, gently kissing my mound before sliding her body up and her head emerged from under the covers. Again she lay with her head on my arm and I kissed her on the lips, enjoying the fresh, musky taste of the juices I had left on her face. I kissed her eyes, her mouth, her nose, and when I drew back from her, she was glowing.
"like that?" she asked.
"Loved it," I answered, and I wasn't lying at all.
"Better than the guys?" she asked.
"I can see why women turn gay," I answered. "There is nothing quite like it."
"If you need something deeper in your vagina, I can go buy another dildo," Billie said, eagerly watching for my response.
"I can't imagine anything more exciting than what you just did."
"The only other thing that might be as good is your doing me."
"That I want to do," I admitted.
"Well, that's a big turn-on, too."
We lay holding one another for many minutes before I concerned myself with the possibility that Mark might be returning at any moment. It would not be good for him to find us together.
"I think we ought to get up, Billie. Mark's coming back soon."
"So?"
"So I think we ought to get up."
"I'd like to lie like this longer."
"Next time, maybe we can, but not now."
Resignedly, Billie pulled back the covers of the bed and got off it, putting on her clothes. I picked mine up, telling her I wanted to shower, and walking, nude, went down the hallway to my room.
"Okay if I come, too, Mom, Jill, I mean?"
"Of course, but if you hear Mark come home, let me know."
Billie came into the bathroom with me while I showered, all the while talking excitedly.
"Just want you to know, Mom, you've made me very happy. I'm not even sorry my girlfriend went off with someone else."
I laughed, giving my body a good soaping before stepping under the hot streams of water thundering forth from the three showerheads.
"Just remember that I can't be your girlfriend, I'm your Mother remember?"
"Oh, I know," she said, squinting through the steamed shower door. "And I won't tell anybody, either, Mom. I know it'd upset Mark if he knew we had been together and it had even been better than it was with him!"
"It's better that we keep quiet about it."
"And I won't tell Daddy, either, Mom."
"I would hope not."
"Don't worry, I'll be cool about it all. Although I'm sure I won't be able to think straight until we get together again. Would you go down on me sometime, Mom?"
I turned off the shower and stepped onto the bathroom rug, taking the towel she handed me.
I dried the front of my body and Billie dried the back.
"Honey, there's something I'd like to tell you about life."
"Yeah, what?" she asked.
"Life is to be experienced in the moments, as they occur. Planning something like that is asking for disappointment and trouble."
She grinned, and handed me my clothes. I put them on, noticing that Billie looked relaxed and peaceful, surprisingly lovely. Without her driving tension, she was strikingly beautiful, very similar to how I had looked when I was a young woman, before I married Justin. Billie had the same high cheekbones, the same upward slant of her large dark eyes. Relaxed, they looked dreamy, and the features of her face looked soft instead of intense, more congruent with her tiny, upturned nose, which had been the bane of her existence. Many times she had deplored the fact she had a "cute" nose, instead of a strong one. But I doubted if she deplored anything, now that she felt on equal terms with her brother.
"What do you say we do the dishes, then go Christmas shopping?" I asked her.
"Great idea, Mom. Dad sent me an extra hundred so I could get some good gifts, but now I feel I'd like to spend it all on you."
"I've got some money for you, too, Billie. Took it out of savings."
"Then I'll be able to get some really good gifts, for everyone. Let's hurry, Mom. Together we can get the dishes done in no time flat. I even want to get Mark a good gift!"
"Why don't you get dressed to go, Billie? Wear something warm. Then come down and help."
"Okay, Mom. With the boots I got, I'll be nearly as tall as you!"
I watched her run out of the bedroom, and I must admit I was flooded with good feelings. It was the first time in as long as I could remember that Billie had looked so young and carefree.