The idea had not come to her until the night before, while doing up the dishes with her mother. It had only been a slight flickering during their conversation, but burst into full force when she had talked her mother into exposing her thighs, by lifting her skirt to her waist.
Julie had made the decision then.
Barbara shifted uncomfortably on the chair, crushing her cigarette out in the ash tray near her. She couldn't understand the emotions that were steaming in her veins, wasn't sure she wanted to understand them. She finally found the strength to pull her eyes from Julie's exposure, and then found she didn't know where to look now. She reached for another cigarette, but didn't pull one from the pack.
A movement had caught her eye, and she turned back to her daughter.
Julie, with her chin still resting on her knees, had dropped her hand down the back of her thigh, sliding it along caressingly, and patted her palm at the crotch of her tight panties. Barbara was afraid to look directly at Julie, but continued to look from the corner of her eye. She saw that Julie was slipping her fingers beneath the band of her panties, and it seemed that her daughter had her tongue licking in a suggestive manner over her lips. And Julie's eyes still burned on Barbara's thighs. Barbara swallowed, trying to say something, but her throat was suddenly dry. She couldn't move, she couldn't speak. Her mind was blank to everything except one thing; what she had heard the night before. "Fuck me hard, Kenney!" and the scream that had erupted from her at the time of her shattering orgasm: "Fuck him, fuck him!"
Of its own volition, her head turned until she was facing her daughter once more. Julie was now openly caressing the hairy rim of her cunt, her fingers stuck underneath the tight lacy band.
"Julie!" Barbara said, but it came out as a soft whisper, not the loud condemnation she wanted. "Julie," she said again, much softer yet.
Julie heard, but said nothing. She dropped her other hand down and pulled the band wide, and Barbara watched with frozen shock as her daughter slipped her middle finger into the hair-lined lips, then up to the swollen clitoris, twisting it gently but firmly.
For what seemed hours, Barbara watched her daughter masturbate. Actually, it could only have been a few minutes. Heavy tension was in the air, and Barbara could hear her harsh breathing, sounding like a roaring surf in her ears.
Julie licked her lips again, then spoke, her voice so soft Barbara had to strain to hear the words. "You know, don't you, mother?"
Barbara nodded her head, the movement almost imperceptible.
"You heard us," Julie said in the same soft voice. "You heard Kenney and me last night."
Again the slight nod of head.
"Do you know what you said, too, last night, mother?"
Confused, Barbara tried to deny it.
"You screamed, mother," Julie said, her finger brushing up and down her inflamed clitoris. "You were playing with yourself, and-you listened to me and Kenney, and when you came, you screamed. You screamed Fuck him, fuck him! Don't you remember?"
Barbara's head jerked negatively.
"Mother, mother," Julie said softly, a small smile on her lips now. "Please, please don't be such a hypocrite. You didn't raise Kenney and me to lie, did you? Why should you start lying now?"
Barbara remained silent, watching and listening. She wanted to jump up and flee, but she couldn't. She wanted to remain and watch, listen, and she did. Her emotions were making her dizzy, but she knew-admitting it to herself-that she was more excited than she had ever been before.
"Have you ever been… have you ever done it with a girl, mother?"
Barbara didn't answer. She didn't say anything or make a movement to indicate yes or no. But Julie understood.
"I haven't, either," Julie said, her voice smoky. "I've never made love to another woman before, but many men. You didn't know that, did you mother? I've been screwed so much I should look like a pin cushion. But I like it, mother. Why should I deny it? I love it, you hear me. I love fucking."
Again there was silence, very heavy silence, between them. Julie remained with her knees drawn against her breasts, her finger caressing and stroking her pussy.
Then Julie said: "Want to make it with me, mother?"
Barbara eyes widened, and a soft moan bubbled from her. Her tongue fluttered about her lips, a nervous gesture that meant nothing to her, but told Julie a great deal.
Removing her hands from her crotch, Julie stood up. Slowly, she began moving toward her mother, her eyes burning between the long thighs. Barbara watched her daughter come close, her heart racing dangerously now. She still sat with her one leg draped over the arm of the chair, the other straight out in front of her, wide apart. She struggled to talk as Julie came close, but words seemed to stick in her throat. Julie drew close, then dropped to her knees on the carpet before her mother. When she placed her palm on Barbara's knee, the heat of it caused her mother to shiver perceptibly. Barbara drew her fingers into a tight fist, watching Julie's hand on her knee.
Julie inched her hand up, sliding along the warm smoothness of her mother's thigh, caressing the creamy flesh. Julie's fingers felt like the kiss of butterfly wings, but there was such a burning, such a pleasant sensation, Barbara began to tremble visibly.
Julie now had her hand at mid-thigh, pausing only to fondle the warm inner surface, where she knew the sensations would be greatest. With her palm flat, she caressed back and forth, bringing her other hand to the opposite thigh. They gazed into each other's eyes, Julie's bold and hungry, Barbara's now smoldering but confused.
Julie's fingers moved up the thighs, slowly and tenderly. The tips of her fingers probed at the edges of her mother's white shorts. For a tantalizing minute, Julie ran her fingertips up and down the legs of her shorts. Then, so gently it was like a breath of air, slipped the fingers of her left hand underneath the crotch of Barbara's shorts.
"No panties, mother?" Julie asked, lifting a knowing eyebrow.
Barbara licked her lips, her eyes gleaming brightly, moistly.
"You have awfully soft hair here, mother," Julie whispered. "It feels like silk, curly and smooth."
Without probing further, Julie pulled her fingers from the shorts, slid both her hands up her mother's trembling stomach, and cupped the two breasts. Barbara gasped.
Julie molded her mother's breasts, squeezing into the firm flesh ever so gently, then ran the tips of her fingers about the two rigid nipples beneath the cloth. "Your nipples are awfully hard," Julie said softly. "You're excited, mother. I can feel how excited you are."
"Julie… " Barbara managed. "Oh, Julie!"
"Don't fight, mother," Julie said, fondling the breasts. She shoved the halter up, exposing the creamy mounds and fiery pink nipples. A murmur of delight came from Julie, and she lifted herself high enough to place a moist, burning kiss on each tip.
"Julie, Julie," Barbara whimpered, still unmoving, her fist clenched, the nails cutting into her palms. "Julie, Julie, Julie… " Then, "Ohhhhhh!"
Julie had opened her moist mouth and covered one nipple, sucking at it gently, but harder with each pull. Her tongue flew about the nipples, her teeth nibbling tenderly. She sucked in as much of her mother's breast as she could, drawing outward, pulling on the nipple, only to swallow more creamy flesh and repeat the motion.
Julie sucked on each breast, spending a few minutes at each nipple, kissing and licking, making soft sounds of pleasure in her throat. As she sucked one breast, she fondled the other. One of her hands was moving up and down Barbara's thigh, feeling all over it.
Again, Barbara gasped.
Julie's hand on her thigh had traced a burning path to the smooth inner surface, and then cupped her crotch.