Date: Thu, 19 Sep 2024 22:55:31 -0700
From: Jan none
Subject: Mother From Az (Lesbian / Adult Youth, oral, anal, f/F)
This story is a work of fiction and contains descriptions of
explicit sexual acts between a teenage girl and a woman. If
this type of content offends you or you are under the age of 18
do not read it. It is the property of the author and cannot be
reproduced or distributed without specific consent of the
author. This work is Copyrighted. All Rights Reserved. It is
written for your enjoyment only. This story is about the love
between a teenage girl and a woman is fiction. Any resemblance
to real persons is purely coincidental.
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You may contact me at janmay6969@gmail.com if you like. All
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Mother from Az
By
Jan
As I sit here in front of my college dorm room looking out
of the window over my desk at the view of the trees on the
campus and the students walking to and from their classrooms on
the Holmes Institute Melbourne, Az. As I'm approaching my
nineteenth birthday in November, I can't help thinking about
how I was introduced to lesbianism as an innocent 16-year-old.
I grew up in a Roman Catholic community, but there are a large
number Orthodox Church of England members.
The most transformative experience of my life happened
when I became close friends with a classmate named Emma. She
came from an Orthodox C of E family, and she invited me to her
home to meet her family. Emma was the younger of two siblings,
there was her mother, father, and a brother. Before I met her
mother, I had a limited understanding of the same sex
attraction.
Whenever I visited Emma's home, her mother spent a lot of
time talking to me. She was an attractive 43-year-old brunette
with a figure that was about 130 pounds. While talking to me
she would often accidently touch my arm or body. At first, I
didn't think much about it, but it continued until I began to
suspect that she was deliberately touching my body. There were
moments in the kitchen when she'd reach out while cooking, and
she would brush against my breasts. When I looked into her
eyes, I caught her watching me, and she quickly averted her
gaze, which only heightened my curiosity. I started paying
closer attention to her behavior; whether we were sitting on
the sofa or at the dining table, her touches became bolder.
Sometimes she'd stand behind me, and place her hands on my
shoulders, and I felt a strange mix of excitement and
confusion.
One night, when I stayed over at Emma's home, there were
just the three of us. Her father and brother were away on a
business trip. That night, her mother's touches were more
frequent and deliberate, and I could sense her interest. While
we watched TV, her daughter sat across the room, focused on the
screen, oblivious to what was unfolding beside her. At one
point, while seated together, her mother playfully tickled my
side, which sent a rush of sensations through me. I could tell
that she was aware of the effect she had on me. After that,
she beckoned me to accompany her to the kitchen to prepare the
tea. While we were waiting for the water to come to a boil,
she put one arm around my body and kissed me on the mouth while
placing her right hand lightly on my left breast. It was a
surprising but exhilarating moment, an unexpected beginning to
a journey I was not prepared for but was undeniably drawn into.
Before we took the tray to the family room, she asked: "When
Emma goes to sleep, please come to my bedroom!"
My emotions were overwhelming me. I was uncomfortable the
rest of the evening. I could hardly keep my mind on the
program we were watching on the TV. After the evening news,
her mother took hold of my hand and gave me a pleading look in
the eyes, so some sort of signal before returning the tray back
to the kitchen. Emma and I went upstairs to her bedroom. She
had twin beds in her room, so we changed into our pajamas and
went to bed. When her mother came upstairs, she stopped by
Emma's room to say good night and took the time to tell: "Emma
go downstairs and get Valentina a Pitcher of water and a glass
in case she might need a drink during the night."
In Emma's absence she come near me and whispered in my
ear: "After Emma is sleeping come to my room, and don't tell
Emma about this."
I didn't know how to respond to her. She left before
Emma returned. When Emma returned, she placed the Pitcher and
class on the night stand between the beds and turned off the
light after she got in her bed. As I lay in the bed, my mind
swirling with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. It was a
simple evening that had spiraled into something inexplicable.
Why had she asked me to come to her room after Emma fell
asleep? Why the insistence not to discuss it with her? I
couldn't shake the feeling that there was something significant
about this encounter, something that extended far beyond that
brief, unexpected kiss. The way she kissed me in the kitchen-
the gentle brush of her lips, the warmth of her hand on my
breast-had taken me by surprise. I replayed the moment over
and over, trying to piece together what it all meant, as I lay
there in the dim light, I could hear the muffled sounds of Emma
snoozing in the next bed. The rhythmic rise and fall of her
chest. I couldn't escape the clutches of my indecision.
Should I go to her mother's room? What would I even say? I
resolved to wait until morning. We would talk, hash out the
details, and maybe, just maybe, the hours passed, the weight of
sleep finally pulling me under. I drifted into a deep slumber,
my mind wandering to dreams that danced on the edge of reality.
But by 1:00am, nature called me back to consciousness. I
stirred awake, the urgent need to use the bathroom tugging at
me, and some clarity in the chaos of emotions swirling in my
head.
When I heard Emma's rhythmic breathing change into a soft,
unmistakable snoring sound, I rolled out in my bed and walked
quietly into the hall, there was a common bathroom between
their bedrooms. The coolness of the floor sent a shiver up my
spine. Thankfully, the path to the bathroom was familiar, the
dim light from the hallway guiding me. After I relieved my
bladder, I finished wiping my crotch. After I finished my
business and was about to head back to bed, I froze in
surprise.
Her mother was, standing right in front of the bathroom
door, silhouetted by the faint light outside. My heart raced,
being caught off guard. Her eyes locked onto mine with an
intensity that sent electric shivers down my spine. She
reached out, took my hand in hers, and pulled me gently closer.
"Come with me," she said softly, her voice almost a whisper.
"I need to talk with you." She led me into her bedroom the
soft glow of the bluish moonlight filtering through the bedroom
curtains dimly illuminated the room. Her mother led me to her
bed and as we stood there by her bed she told me: "I want you
to promise to never tell anyone what I am going to teach you
tonight! If you can't promise that, you might as well return
to Emma's room and go back to bed!"
I heard myself say: "I promise to never tell anyone that
you are going to trach me."
As I answered her question, she turned to the nightstand
and turned on a soft night light at the base of the lamp on the
nightstand along with the clock radio. The room became aglow
with a pink glow from a bulb that couldn't have been more than
a 25-watt light bulb. When she turned back to face me, she
placed her arms around my body and kissed me with a passion
that I had rarely ever experienced.
The kiss took my breath away and I felt a little dizzy.
She used her right hand to unbutton the top of my pajamas.
When she unbuttoned the last button, she pulled the top open to
expose my breasts. My youthful breasts were those of a mature
16-year-old. They were 38-C and her breasts were pear shaped.
My areolas were a rose-pink and as large as silver dollars with
nipples that were prominent. My waist was only 26-inches and
my pajama bottoms were held up by a cord tied in a bow. My
belly button was exposed and the bottoms were riding low on my
wide hips. She took hold of the cord and gave a tug.
The bow came undone and a gentle tug loosened the cord and
the bottoms fell to the floor around my feet. I simply stepped
out of them. She stood there admiring my lower body as my
pajama top slipped off my shoulders and joined my bottoms on
the floor. I began to get nervous because she was not saying
anything as she stood there with her arm crossed. I couldn't
tell if she approved of what she was looking at or not. I had
always been proud of my long shapely legs, and I thought my
dark-haired pubic triangle was something I could be proud of.
She stood there taking in the sight of my naked body without
saying anything or showing any emotion.
She finally said: "I can't believe how BEAUTIFUL your body
is! You remind me of the upperclassman of the modern dance
class when I was a freshman. She was the one that took me
under her wing and not only taught me to be a better dancer she
introduced me to the pleasures of safe sex between women! She
told me: "I have always been drawn to breasts that are shaped
like yours, and your bird is so editable I have to make love to
you!" After that statement she placed me on the middle of her
bed with the covers drawn back, and proceeded to start taking
off her own nightgown.
I lay there on her bed with my head resting on one of her
two pillows. I could hardly breathe as I watched her gather up
the bottom of the transparent gown up her body and exposed her
own legs that were as good as any dancer's. When her own
crotch came into view, I couldn't take my eyes off her Mons
Pubis. It was shaved every smooth with only a close-cropped
landing strip of dark hairs that were only a quarter inch long
above her vagina opening. When her breasts spilled out from
under the gown as it was gathered up before being pulled over
her head. Her breasts were at least a 'double -D' and rested
on her ribcage. Her areolas and nipples were a dark mauve
colour and larger than my own. I was impressed that a 43-
year-old woman had an impressive figure even though she was
probably 53.2 KGs or 117 US pounds. As the gown cleared her
head her chestnut hair with a few streaks of gray starting to
show at her temples fell back down to cover her breasts. She
dropped her gown on top of my pajamas, and mounted the bed.
She laid on top of me and kissed me with tongue for a long
time. It was exciting to have her on top of me. Our breasts
were smashed against each other. She eventually moved down my
body until she was able to take turns sucking on my tits. It
took my breath away when she captured my nipples and sucked on
them. I was looking her in the eyes as she licked her way down
my body where she lifted my legs and spread them as she started
licking my pubic hair before getting down and dirty and licking
my wet vagina and using her tongue to stimulate my clitoris
until I had a whimpering orgasm that led to me blacking out for
a few moments.
When I recovered, she was lying next to me with her face
so close to mine I was breathing her exhausted air from her
lungs, and she had an arm lying across my body. I moved my
face closer and kissed her. It was strange kissing her with my
own vaginal juices covering her face and smelling my own cunt
on her face. I was soon feeling her big soft tits and lifting
them up to suck on them in turn. I was smelling her perfume
between her breasts and promising myself to buy the same
perfume for myself. I may have lingered on her tits too long
because she placed her hand on top of my head and gently pushed
down.
I knew what she wanted and licked my way down her body the
same way she has done to me. I felt a pang of sympathy when I
reached the thin transverse C section scar. When I reached her
crotch. I looked up at her eyes and asked: "Why do you shave
so much?"
She smiled at me: "I do that so no one get my hair caught
between their teeth."
I instantly understood that I was not the first of
probably many other females that had eaten her pussy. I found
that her crotch smelled very similar to my own. I used my
tongue to find out what her pussy tasted like. I was soon
rubbing my face against her pussy the way she had done to me.
I could have spent the rest of the night between her legs, but
she eventually let me know that she was cumming and pushed me
away. When she recovered, she gathered up her nightgown and my
pajamas. She handed me the PJs and she pulled her gown over
her head. Then she told me to return to my bed and cushioned
me to not let Emma know what we are going to be doing in our
private time together from now on.
I got up and put on my pajamas and moved back to my bed in
Emma's room as quietly as I could. When I got in the bed and
covered up, I was replaying what had taken place and enjoying
the smell of her pussy that was clinging to my face as her cum
dried. I reached down with my right hand and put it into my
PJs and masturbated myself until I fell asleep.
Whenever I would spend nights at Emma's home her mother
found a way for the two of us to be with each other long enough
to make love to each other. It took me several months before I
found out that Emma knew all about her mother's taste for
teenage girls. Emma was also sleeping with her mother's female
friends.
It got to the point that her mother no longer hid our
activity from her daughter. We would take off our clothes and
make love to each other on the living room floor in front of
Emma.
If you enjoyed the story and have a story you want me to write
about your introduction to the world of female sexuality,
please send your outline to janmay6969@gmail.com
If you enjoy Nifty, please make your donation to Nifty Archive
Alliance to help keep the site running and stories available.