I lowered one hand and gave her a sharp smack on the upper cheek of her jutting bottom.
“And the next time I shall take your pants down to do it!
“Oooh, fab!” she breathed and the next moment she had thrown back the bedclothes and pulled her pyjama trousers right down and off, throwing them to the end of the bed. Then she rolled on to her tummy and lifted her bottom. “Go on, then, mummy-smack it bare, like you used to when I was small!”
I looked down at her white, upthrust bottom and was sorely tempted.
“You're being silly, now. But I don't want to hear you talk like that again, remember?”
“I might if you spanked me.” She wriggled her behind at me. “Go on-smack my bare arse…ouch!”
She yelped again as I gave her another, even harder, slap on her bare cheeks. Then I pulled the clothes back over us again.
“And I don't want to hear that sort of language, either. Where do you pick it up-in those horrible coffee bars-From the Mocks and Rodders, or whatever they call themselves?”
“You mean Mods and Rockers. No, mummy, of course not — I'm not interested in those filthy little beasts; I like to go with Susan and Lucy (neighbours' daughters)-the music sends us, that's all.”
I was relieved to hear her say so and was pretty certain she was speaking the truth.
“All right. Well, come on then, if you want a snuggle — I must get up soon.”
She came into my arms, pressing close again; I felt sparse, silky hairs brush my thighs as she threw a leg over mine. We cuddled and I stroked her back and gently patted her bottom. She kissed me.
“Mmm, love you, mummy,” she murmured, her lips nuzzling first my neck, then my face, my forehead, eyes, nose, chin, and finally, mouth.
She held her mouth on mine for a considerable length of time, until I pulled my head back, gasping.
“Hey-you'll smother me!” I pushed the clothes back. “Come on, now, my pet-we must get up. You've had your little cuddle.”
“All right, mummy, if you say so,” she said reluctantly. “One more hug, then I'll let you get up.”
“Oh, very well, then.”
She raised herself and rested a hand on either side of my shoulders as I turned on to my back, preparatory to sitting up. Then she lowered herself on top of me, pressing me down, her hands sliding under my back. I received a hefty bear-hug, taking the full weight of her body, my breasts flattening under hers. She looked up into my face.
“And a kiss?”
I nodded. Her mouth clamped down hard, almost bruising my astonished lips. She squirmed on top of me and I actually felt her nipples harden against my breasts. Without conscious thought, my arms went round her, pressing her closer to me; my mouth opened under her ardent pressure and I heard her murmur of delight as her tongue nicked across my lips. My mouth opened wider as I felt my own nipples stirring into awareness.
Then I came to my senses. I was this girl's own mother! I pushed her off and sat up, covering my breasts with my hands.
“Jane! What did you think you were doing?” I whispered.
“Loving you! And, mummy-it was wonderful!”
“You mustn't ever do that again; it's wrong-it… it's…”
“Why is it wrong, mummy?” She looked at me all wide-eyed and innocent and I guessed she hadn't realised what she was doing. “How can anything as wonderful as that be wrong?”
“The-the way you did it! It-it seemed as though you had done it before…” I stopped, trying to find the right words. “As though you'd had experience in — in…” I couldn't find of an adequate way to phrase what I had in mind.”
“In what, mummy? How could I have experience-I only have one mother! I have cuddled you before, of course.”
“Not in that way, you haven't!”
“I must admit it did have something special about it this time, although I did it the same way as I always have-well, to start with, anyway.”
“I think you must have got lost en route!”
“'Well, tell me what was wrong?” I realised I was saying too much; these were probably the first stirring of her sex instincts and when she had become excited during our cuddle, she had pursued it, wishing to prolong the pleasurable sensations, without knowing the basic cause of them.
“Nothing wrong, darling-you nearly squashed me, that's all; I hadn't expected such a colossal bear-hug! I keep forgetting I have such a big daughter, now-forget it.”
I got up and started to dress; nothing more was said on the subject, but she looked rather thoughtful as she went into her own room.
I had a pretty tight schedule that day. Stella and I were going into town and she was to pick me up at seven. I wanted to buy a coat and she had some odds and ends to pick up, then we were going to have lunch. I was hoping she wouldn't lead me into doing anything too extravagant; while Phil gave me a more than adequate allowance, Stella could be described as of “independent means”-with a prefix “considerable”! My idea of a moderately-priced coat would not necessarily be hers.
Stella arrived as Mrs. Matthews was making coffee, which gave me a chance to put the finishing touches to my make-up while she drank a cup. Jane was still hanging about as we were about to leave.
“What are you up to today, Jane-didn't you say you were going swimming, or something?”
“I was going with Lucy, but she's-well, you know-the usual curse. So instead, Sue and I are going to her place for lunch. We'll probably play records all afternoon-I'll be home about seven, I should think.”
“Well, that'll make a change!”
“We could drop her off if she's ready,” offered Stella.
“I'm ready-I was ready ages ago, to go swimming, until Lucy phoned. It's annoying-I've only been for a swim twice since I've been home and there's only about ten days left of the holidays.”
“Sorry, darling; your father's been too busy these past few months, or we would have taken you away for a couple of weeks. Still-we'll make it up.”
We dropped Jane off and then drove on into town.
“You know, you could have taken her somewhere yourself, Rita — a girl of her age needs a complete change of atmosphere during holiday time, apart from her home, especially when she'll be swotting for exams pretty soon.”
“I know-I feel rather guilty about it, too. I had intended taking her somewhere, but one thing led to another and I kept putting it off. I really will make it up to her, though.”
We went into town and I got my coat-only a few pounds more than I had intended spending on one! Stella bought shoes and some underthings and then we went to lunch at Wheelers.
We sat back and lit cigarettes. Stella waited until the waiter had topped up our glasses with the Louis St. George, then leaned forward.
“You know-I have a friend…”
“Oh?”
“An old friend, who…”
“Intimate
friend, Stella?” I gave her a sideways glance.
She coloured slightly, then smiled.
“Well-er-as a matter of fact-yes. That's all in the past, now, of course. I still see her occasionally, but it must be a couple of years since we went to bed together.”
“Was she as nice as me in bed?”
“Sshh!” Stella looked round at the other tables. “Someone will hear you-the women who come in here together at lunch-time are all ears, trying to find something to gossip about at dinner-time! As I was about to say-this friend rang me the other day to let me know she was going abroad, probably for a year. Now she has a bungalow at Bridlington-it actually overlooks the beach. She has told me I can use it whenever I want to. Now, apropos of Jane-how about you and I taking her there this week-end? The weather has been so marvellous for the past couple of days, it must hold up for another few-the weather man says it will!”
“That's a very kind thought, Stella. She has to be back at school for the following week-end, though.”
“Well that's no problem. Today's Wednesday-we could start out on Friday and come ba
ck on Monday afternoon. That would give us a clear week-end-will Phil be all right, do you think?”
“Oh, yes-he's so immersed in work, he'd hardly notice we were gone! They're working on plans for the entrance of the Chunnel project; he'll be stuck quite happily in his den with his drawing-board over the week-end and have a prowl round the 'fridge whenever he feels hungry.” I had one small misgiving, which I didn't mention to Stella-what his reaction would be when I told him I was going to spend a week-end with “the lesbian”! But that would be solved when I told Jane was coming and that it was for her benefit.
“Then all it needs is for me to give Rose a ring-she has a flat in town. I don't have to, really, but I will, just the same-just to let her know I'm taking her up on her offer and to wish her 'bon voyage.' Let's have coffee and whatever else you want with it, and I'll take you to a club I'm a member of for a quiet drink-I'll phone Rose from there.”
“If we're going to have more to drink-a cup of coffee will be fine-I don't want to roll home stoned!”
“We've only got through one bottle of wine! Still-I'm more used to drinking than you are, so we'll settle for a coffee. I've got to drive, anyway.”
We had our coffee and left the restaurant.
“I'll leave the car in the car-park-goodness knows where we'd find a space nowadays. Anyway-it's less than ten minutes' walk from here.”
We crossed Piccadilly and walked down the Hay-market, which I knew; then Stella took a right turn and a left turn, which I didn't know, and we eventually arrived at a well-kept, nineteenth century building on which one automatically expected to find a plaque, informing all who cared to look, that so-and-so lived here in 18?? We went inside and I found myself in an extremely plush hallway-flock wallpaper and thick pile carpet; paintings on the walls that looked as though they should cost the earth and what looked like a genuine Addams staircase.
I followed Stella across the hall and down narrow wooden stairs to what, in days gone by, were obviously the servants' quarters. We stopped at a door with a covered grill and she turned to me.
“Listen, darling-don't be surprised at what you see in here,” she whispered. “Above all-don't tell anyone about the place, or where it is-OK?”
“OK. Why-isn't it licensed, or something?”
“Oh, it's licensed, all right-but not for all that goes on! No one ever seems to be quite sure about the law on female homosexuality, and one has to play safe. You will see quite a few things that will open your eyes, my sweet. They have a strip-show-very much like they have for men, only it goes somewhat more into detail. You'll find it interesting, anyway.”
She pressed a bell at the side of the door and the cover slid away from the grill. I was aware of eyes glinting at me from the dimness.
“Stella Chambers-I've brought a friend-she's all right-I can vouch for her.” The door opened and I tagged along behind Stella.
“Hi, Stella-long time no see! Good to see you. Who's your friend?”
“This is Rita-a very close friend; we are practically next-door neighbours.”
“Of course-you live way out in the sticks, now, don't you! Hi, Rita-welcome to the clan.”
I had my hand clasped in a strong grip and pumped up and down. It was the woman who had opened the door to us. She sat on a high stool, and I saw that the bar came right up to the door, so that she only had to swivel on her seat to open it or to look through the grill, as the stool was right at the end of the bar.
For a moment, I wasn't quite sure whether I was having my hand shaken by an extremely effeminate man, or a woman in a man's suit. When I took a closer look I saw she had, incongruously, pencilled eyebrows and a light face make-up; as my eyes traveled down her body, I took in the loose, open jacket, partially disguising the enormous pair of breasts she had.
“Take that table just over there,” she pointed. “The show's starting in a couple of minutes. Watch out for the third act-it's a corker! The last one, of course, is still fabulous-yes-we still have Jean and Penny! They've worked out a completely new routine, though, and it's the berries! Tell me what you want and I'll have it sent over.”
“Oh, send over a bottle of-let's see, what wine do you have here? We don't want to mix our drinks too much. I know-Chatteau neuf du Pape; still keep it?”
“One Chatteau neuf coming up!”
We sat at the table she had indicated; it was right on the edge of the small dance floor, where several couples were swaying round to the accompaniment of a hidden juke-box.
Two or three obvious women were “dancing” with each other-smooching to music, I would have called it; two other couples were less obvious, though; I had to look very closely to find out that they were all women. One girl looked very attractive in a light print dress reaching to just above her knees; fairly low-cut, showing a lot of cleavage and the tops of fair-skinned well-developed breasts and straight shoulders.
Her partner wore a sports jacket and flannels, with an open-necked shirt; this one had a hard, mannish face and short-cropped hair. Although I had now faced up to the fact that sex relations with another woman-Stella, at any rate-had passed from the stage of merely a pleasant diversion to a near must, I was quite sure I would have been sickened by that type. I couldn't repress a shiver of revulsion at the thought of having her hands mauling me, or her mouth slobbering at me. I took a quick swig of the wine that was brought, to wash down the retch that threatened to choke me at the thought of my head between those near-masculine thighs.
“They have a pretty good show here-I don't know about the third act, but if George says it's good, then it's good. But the Jean and Penny act has been going on for ages and it's always quite fabulous. Don't be shocked, now!”
“I don't think I'll be shocked, but those two 'male women' on the floor make me feel slightly sick.”
“Jean and Penny aren't anything like them. They're two gorgeous girls. You wait and see-they'll be on in a minute. Let's have a dance while we're waiting — you won't have to watch those two butches, then.”
I looked at her for a moment, that feeling of unreality sweeping over me, then I stood up and glided into her arms, taking naturally the female role. It seemed quite the same as dancing with a man, except that Stella's bosom bounced and rubbed against mine as no male's had ever done!
“You dance very well, Rita.”
“Thanks, so do you-come here often?”
“Only in the mating season!”
“Ouch! I rather left myself open to that one, didn't I?”
“You did! I haven't been here for quite a while, but I used to come here a lot with Rose-she lives close by. Which reminds me-I'd better phone her.”
The music stopped and we went back to our table. As we sat down, the dim lighting dimmed even more and a voice came over a loudspeaker announcing the first act.
“I'll wait until after the show before phoning Rose,” Stella whispered. “How long does it last?”
“Not very long-they have about five or six acts and each one except the main item only lasts about three or four minutes; the last one takes about ten.”
“… introducing Lolita!”
The lights around the room went out altogether and a spotlight bit its way through the darkness to the centre of the floor. Into the brilliance stepped a pretty girl of about twenty, with dark hair reaching to her shoulders. She had on a full-length evening dress, with the skirt split on the left right up to her hip.
Music came from the loudspeaker and she moved around in step, followed by the spotlight, taking every opportunity to display the length of her leg and thigh through the split of the skirt. There was no attempt at dancing as such, merely movement designed to accentuate her curves. The dress was, of course, low cut and showed off her straight shoulders and the swell of her bosom. I suppose it was quite pleasant to watch, but nothing spectacular.
Then she showed us she had a zip under her left armpit, raising her arm, she pulled the zip right down to her hip and suddenly, the dress was a pool of blue at her fee
t. She posed, hands on hips, body swaying, now clad in bra, panties, suspender-belt, stockings and black, shiny leather shoes with heels that must have been at least six inches.
She moved around for a while, swaying all the time. Then slowly, the suspenders were unfastened; a chair was pushed into the spotlight and she sat down to roll the stockings off, giving us brief flashing of pantie crotch as she lifted each leg. Shoes were thrown aside, the stockings were taken right off. Then she got up and moved around some more, arms behind her, feeling for the catch of her bra; unfastened, her hands left the strap and went to cup the brassieres breasts, as she turned, smiling provocatively, to face the audience. She paused, then, with a flourish, took her hands away and let the bra drop to the floor. Her breasts were not terribly large, but the nipples looked big-probably painted-seeming to take up almost half the breast area. She strutted about, then, wriggling her upper body, jerking her titties from side to side.
Yes, My Darling Daughter! Page 3