The Lesbian Daughter Swapping Fantasy Club

by Amanda Clover

“Lindsay,” I reply. “I hope I’m not intruding. I used to come to this beach all the time, but it’s been a while since I’ve been back. You’re the first surfer I’ve ever seen here.”

  “I know, right?” She looks out at the ocean. “It’s a great break, good inlet over there to build a curl. It’s not a long ride, but it gets my heart going every time. It’ll be our secret, right? I don’t want word getting out.”

  “Our secret,” I agree. “So do you live around here or…?”

  She starts gathering up her towel and her cooler. In the process, she bends over and shows me the heart-shaped perfection of her buns in that black bikini. Her long, tan legs are shaped by hours of swimming and trying to keep her balance on her board. She catches me looking as she glances over her shoulder.

  “Not around here, no,” she says. “Parked up by the road, next to that greasy spoon. What about you?”

  I shake my head.

  “Just visiting. Staying at the Beachcomber.”

  “So what brings you out to this forgotten beach to try to pick up teenage surfer girls?” She asks and then quickly nudges me with an elbow. “Only teasing.”

  I think about my answer for a few seconds, listening to my excited heartbeat mingle with the rush of the surf. I want to spill it all out, this encounter with a girl that reminds me so much of Daphne after that dream can only be serendipity, but I don’t want to scare her away.

  “I have… a lot going on in my life,” I finally reply. “I’d like to know more about you. Can I buy you some coffee?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I don’t do coffee,” she says and starts walking back towards the road, her surfboard under her arm and her cooler in her hand. She stops after a few steps and looks back at me. “But you can buy me a smoothie at Jaja Juice.”

  I find out a lot about Julie as we walk to the tin shack by the roadside that serves as a juice bar. She’s nineteen. She dropped out of college after a semester to live, essentially, as a bum. She has an apartment in the city, but she usually crashes on couches.

  We get our smoothies from a white boy Rastafarian who says his name is “Sugar Dog” and he tries to sell us weed. I hesitate, being out of the marijuana loop for years, but when Julie asks what strains he has, I end up shelling out thirty bucks for a quarter ounce of something called “Indica Boombatta.”

  “Can’t blaze in the juice shack,” he says and drums his fingers on a “no smoking” sign.

  Julie hides the bag of marijuana in her cooler. We sit down at one of the rickety tables with the better views of the ocean and drink our juices.

  “So you said you had a lot going on. Like what? Like cancer or a divorce or something?”

  “Why do you say that?” I ask.

  “Oh, just usually, you know, MILF sort of woman, alone on a beach working her butt off means something.” She takes a drink of her juice and then her eyes get big with embarrassment. “I don’t mean to call you a MILF. That’s like insulting and nobody says that anymore. I’m sorry. Oh my god.”

  She laughs at herself.

  “It’s okay,” I assure her and share in the laughter. “I’ve been called worse. And you’re right, about the divorce anyway. It got pretty weird between me and my soon-to-be-ex and I came here to clear my head.”

  “How weird?”

  “You don’t want to know,” I say and lean back in my chair.

  Julie leans forward, “Oh, yes I do. I totally want to know.”

  So I let it all out, starting with suspecting Tyler of cheating, then catching him with Sofia, then learning about the club.

  “So he traded your daughter with these other guys at this club for sex,” she says. “I’ve heard of that sort of thing. I mean, on the Internet and stuff. I never thought it was real.”

  “Me either,” I agree. “But once I found out about it, and that there was a mother involved as well, I don’t know, I guess I thought since my daughter was so into it, why not let it continue?”

  “You let her keep going?”

  “Worse,” I say and I gaze into Julie’s blue eyes. “I started an all-girl version of that club. Moms trading their daughters for sexual gratification.”

  “Wow,” says Julie. “Wow… that’s… I mean, yeah. I can see why you’d need to get some air to clear your head. That’s some heavy stuff.”

  “I didn’t even get to the heavy-heavy part.” I pause for effect. “My daughter is pregnant and her stepfather is the dad.”

  “Oh my god,” says Julie. “Wow. Crazy. Are you gonna, like, get a gun and blow him away?”

  “The thought had crossed my mind.” I sigh. “But, no, I freak out if I see the blood from a paper cut.”

  She flutters her lashes at me as she takes a drink through the straw of her smoothie. When she pops those full lips free, she licks away a drop of banana-peach-kale juice.

  “Plus, you sort of are pimping your daughter out just like your soon-to-be-ex-husband did.” She quickly adds, “Not that I’m judging. No judgment. We’re in a judgment free zone.”

  “I know, but our arrangement is weird,” I say. “Letting him take my daughter on Saturdays to his perverted club, so that I can take Sofia on Sundays to mine.”

  “Yeah, it’s weird, but also, sort of, um, hot?” She catches her straw with a curl of her tongue and takes another drink. I just stare at her and let her words simmer in my belly. It was definitely serendipity that I bumped into this gorgeous surfer girl with such an open mind.

  “We’re always recruiting,” I finally say.

  Julie looks away from me, at the wind in the beach grass and at some sunbathers starting to trickle down from the road to our secret beach. I think maybe I’ve pushed things too far by opening the door to Julie joining the club.

  “I’d like to meet your daughter,” she says, still gazing out at the ocean. “How about tonight? I was going to have some friends come to the beach for a bonfire. You and Sofia could join us.”

  “That would be nice,” I say, not sure how I am going to convince my daughter to come with me to the beach.

  I get Julie’s number and head back to the Beachcomber to gather my things. I pay for a second night of the room and then drive back home. Sofia isn’t around, so I take a long, relaxing bath and think about Julie and Daphne and my daughter. As I lie there in the warm, sudsy water, it feels like everything was a dream, from the revelation about Sofia’s pregnancy to my encounter with Julie on the beach. I almost convince myself that it was a dream and I’m having a nervous breakdown when I hear the garage door opening and Sofia’s keys jangling as she enters the house.

  I hear giggling from downstairs as I wrap myself in a towel. I know Victoria and Sofia are lovers and I’m half expecting to see the woman my age walking upstairs with my little girl. Their relationship is, in many ways, the basis for the twisted lesbian club I am running. I can’t allow my motherly feelings to interfere in that particular relationship.

  Thankfully, Sofia is alone and is giggling at her text messages. She sees me wrapped in a towel standing at the top of the stairs.

  “Uh, hey, mom,” she says and tosses a wavy lock of her auburn hair from her face. “I guess daddy told you about—“

  “We’re not going to talk about that right now,” I interrupt. “Not dealing with it. That’s between you and Tyler.”

  “Really?” She rocks back with surprise. “Oh, okay, mom. What do you want to talk about?”

  “I want you to come with me to the beach tonight.” I descend the steps and admire my daughter’s sweater and jeans; her perky teenage body and her big, innocent eyes. “This lovely surfer girl, Julie, invited us to a bonfire on the beach. It’ll be fun. Like a mother, daughter adventure.”

  “Not like one of our Sunday adventures though?” She chuckles.

  “Probably not,” I say and finish with a wink.

  Sofia keeps her lavender sweater and hip-hugging jeans. She changes from socks and sneakers to bare feet and beach sandals. I go with a bikini. My w
hite, extra-nipply bikini that Sofia used to roll her eyes when I’d wear at a pool party. Today she actually says, “Looks hot, mom.” I’m not sure what that means about my relationship with my daughter. As usual, I’m a little self-conscious about my big butt, and decide to hide it with a sheer, floral sarong around my hips.

  I pack some beach towels and a couple of bottles of wine from the wine rack in our kitchen. The sun sets as we are making the drive to the beach. It’s relaxing and it feels almost normal. Like Sofia and I used to act when we were together, before we both knew all about what the other one was doing in the bedroom. But then she’ll off-handedly mention Victoria or Tyler and I’m drawn back to the reality where my daughter is knocked up by her stepfather, dating a woman my age, and participating in a sex club that I am perpetuating.

  I pull into the Beachcomber and Sofia wrinkles her button nose.

  “That place? I remember you bringing me here as a little girl. There was sand in the bed.”

  “They got the sand out of the bed,” I tell her, “but nothing is getting the cigarette smoke out of those drapes.”

  She takes the towels, I take the wine bottles and plastic cups, and we cross the road to the moonlit seaside. I see the bonfire on the beach in the distance. There seems to be only one figure there, which gives me a thrill of excitement. I had been afraid of a mob of Julie’s teenage friends. This seems to be a much more intimate encounter.

  The fire warms us as we approach. The stars and moon are out over the ocean. Julie sits on a driftwood log and watches us walk up to the circle of firelight. She is wearing a hoodie along with a pair of shorts that still show off her long legs.

  “Hey, Lindsay,” she says, “and you must be Sofia.”

  My daughter shakes hands with Julie and sits down beside her.

  “What did she tell you about me? I promise you I’m not that bad.”

  “All complimentary,” insists Julie.

  “Not much of a party,” I interject.

  “Oh, sorry.” Julie bounces to her feet and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I invited my mom, but I guess she’s a no show.”

  “Your mom?” I raise an eyebrow. Julie knew the rules of the club. Extending an offer to her mom leads me to believe that she wants in.

  “My mom,” she says with a wink and an infectious flash of that big smile. “But we can have fun without her.”

  She pulls me closer to the fire, embraces me as if she means to kiss me, but she pulls away again before our lips meet. She dances over to her phone sitting on her beach towel. It’s hooked up to a little portable speaker and playing good, strummy beach music. She cranks it up a little and starts to dance. Her eyes glitter and her golden skin is painted by the shifting red firelight.

  “Come on, Sofia,” she motions with both hands. “Dance with me.”

  My daughter hops up from the driftwood and the two of them start dancing together. It’s fun and girls being girls at first. My daughter shows off her butt in her jeans and Julie pretends to smack it. Julie takes a turn in her shorts, crouching low and looking at me over her shoulder as she twerks her teenage butt like a pro. I can’t stop laughing.

  I pour us cups of wine and pass out the cups of the sweet white. Julie takes a sip and gives me a stern look.

  “Ma’am, I am only nineteen and I am definitely not allowed to be drinking this.” She takes another sip and both Julie and Sofia burst out laughing.

  “Don’t call me, ma’am,” I warn.

  “Oooh, okay, what do I call you?” She dances out of my reach. “Mistress? Mommy? What do you like to be called, Lindsay?”

  “My name works fine.”

  “Lllllindsay,” teases Julie. “Llllindsay. It just rolls on my tongue.”

  “Oh, I’ll give you a licking!” I say, clapping my hands together as I start towards her.

  Julie squeals and runs from me. I chase her completely around the fire once and then she runs, laughing, for the surf. Sofia lets us go and I catch up to Julie with the water lapping at our legs. She splashes out to knee depth, her cup sloshing wine into the sea. I finally catch her, grab her hand and pull her around as the foamy water swirls around our legs. He golden hair blows across her face. Her smile flashes in the moonlight. For a split second, she is Daphne. Not a resemblance, but the actual girl I explored my sexuality with in college.

  “You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whisper as I wrap her in my arms.

  She pressed against the softness of my breasts. Her lips are against mine, warm and welcoming, the sweetness of the wine shared between us as we kiss. Her mouth opens first. Her tongue darts between my lips and I open wider to her, fencing back with my tongue and pressing my thigh between her legs.

  “Mmmmm,” she purrs against the kiss. “Your daughter is watching us.”

  “Sofia knows why we’re here,” I reply, giving her another hungry kiss and a stroke down her hips. My hands slide around to her back and I squeeze the firmness of her ass through her shorts. Julie gets her hands between us and pushes against my breasts to get me away.

  “I’m not even sure why I’m here,” says Julie. “I haven’t made up my mind.”

  “Are you turning me down?”

  “Ha, hardly,” she laughs. “Didn’t you just feel my tongue in your mouth? No, but, you know. I don’t like leaving Sofia out. Let’s go back to the fire. I still have that Indica you bought this morning.”

  She takes my hand and we walk together back to the fire. Sofia is watching us and she has a knowing smile on her face. She doesn’t say anything and I notice her cup of wine is sitting untouched beside her feet. Of course, she’s pregnant. Not even a sip. I’m a terrible grandmother, pushing a cup of wine into my underage daughter’s hand.

  “You two look good together,” says Sofia.

  “And you looked lonely,” says Julie, sitting down beside her. “I want to hear about your college. Tell me where you’re going and what you’re going to study.”

  The two of them talk about Sofia’s future plans. They’re still loose and seem to be thrown into question by her pregnancy, but she talks excitedly and at length about her plans to study sports medicine. Her skill at massage. Her interest in physical therapy. Julie talks mostly about her surfing. She finishes rolling the joint and lights it with a stick from the fire. She passes it to me and I take a deep drag. Sofia indulges as well and before long we are all talking like college friends.

  “I really want to kiss you right now,” Sofia blurts as she is listening to Julie talk about catching a monster wave during a visit to Hawaii. Sofia glances back at me and asks, “Can I kiss her, mom?”

  “You have to ask her that,” I say with a chuckle.

  Sofia turns back to ask Julie if she can kiss her and the blond surfer grabs hold of my daughter and lays a passionate smooch on Sofia’s lips. The one kiss leads to laughter, which leads to another kiss, more intense and deeper this time. Their mouths open to each other. I catch glistening glimpses of their tongues working together as they begin to caress arms and shoulders, thighs and breasts. I am totally relaxed from the weed and I lean back, supported by one hand on the driftwood, as my fingers slip under the sarong and I begin to touch myself through my bikini.

  My daughter is very experienced, despite her innocent, doe-eyed look. She slides a hand between Julie’s legs and into the other teen’s shorts. I can see my daughter’s fingers moving against Julie’s slit. The blond surfer girl has lost her laughter to the intensity of the moment. She leans back a little, chewing her lip and watching Sofia stroking her pussy inside her shorts. She glances at me and then back at my daughter.

  They kiss again, even more passionately, the clothes beginning to come off until their bare breasts are exposed. Sofia’s are creamy white with puffy nipples and Julie’s just a bit larger, just a bit rounder, with tiny, cherry-red nipples as hard as pebbles. Sofia leans down to suck them. Julie’s deep moan is all I need to pull my bikini bottoms to the side and thrust two fingers into my hot, wet pussy.
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  Sofia’s lips suck at Julie’s nipples, pulling at the bikini-marked flesh of Julie’s pert breasts and leaving her nipples glistening with saliva. Julie looks at me, eyes heavy with intoxication and lust as Sofia begins to kiss lower. Julie lifts her bottom from the driftwood and gamely allows my daughter to slip off those shorts. I have a lovely view of Julie’s tanned thighs, spread and inviting, showing me the dewy folds of her pussy with just a tuft of trimmed blond hair above them.

  My daughter doesn’t look to me for permission. She doesn’t hesitate. She kisses her way along Julie’s inner thigh and finds that soft, sweet furrow of Julie’s sex. I can’t see what Sofia does with her tongue there, but I can judge its effects on Julie’s face, which is suddenly contorted in pleasure. Julie rests two hands on Sofia’s head, stroking my daughter’s hair and pulling her against those tender folds.

  I hiss with pleasure and arch my back, my breasts jiggling with the shock of the motion as pleasure radiates from my clutching pussy. I rub my thumb steadily against the fat bud of my clit. I want to join them, but I have to maintain that barrier between my daughter and myself. But I can’t look away. Not from this. Not as Julie lies back on the driftwood and Sofia begins to suck at her pussy and use her fingers at the same time.

  The weed impairs my judgment. Some part of me knows I should look away. Knows I should excuse myself from the sight of Sofia stripping off her jeans and revealing her firm ass. I should not watch my daughter straddle Julie’s face and enter into a firelit 69, fingers and tongues mutually exploring teenage bodies. I am on the brink of orgasm when I hear the voice close behind me.

  “I knew it would be you.” It’s familiar and so near I can almost feel the warmth of breath on my neck. “Julie described you and said your name was Lindsay and I knew.”

  I turn slowly, heart pounding from being caught, fingers slowly slipping free of my aching channel. Standing three feet behind me is the literal woman of my dreams.

  Daphne is much older, of course, just like me. More than twenty years have passed since those intense encounters in my dorm. She’s much rounder in the hips and fuller in the breasts. There are lines in the corners of her eyes and the hint of extra weight beneath her chin. But she has that same blond hair that falls past her shoulders, those same big, blue eyes and full lips. That same huge grin she shares with the girl who must be her daughter.