Yes, My Darling Daughter!

by Pierre le Valle

  “Do you really want me to tell you what else?” she said quietly, continuing without waiting for a reply even if I'd had one. “Well, I don't know very much about Friday night at the bungalow-you remembered to draw the curtains. But Saturday night and Sunday night, you must have forgotten all about them.”

  Oh, Lord! My hands flew to my face and I turned my back to her. I had never felt so ashamed in all my life as when I stood, knowing my daughter's eyes were burning into my back.almost feeling her triumph. She had seen everything. No wonder she had been so confident.

  “It was terribly exciting, mummy; the two of you all naked like that, cuddling and kissing. And then that great big rubber thing. Gosh! It's a wonder it didn't split you right up your middle! Didn't it hurt, mummy?” She was carried away, now, and rushed on, “How you squealed when it went in, mummy! Then having all that milk squirted into your poor little pee-hole afterwards. It looked more like a punishment she was giving you, but you both seemed to be enjoying yourselves.

  “It must feel lovely when you're kissing each other between the thighs, though-I think I should like that very much.”

  On and on she went, relating all the intimate things Stella and I had done together over the week-end, while I stood with my back to her, taking each word as almost a physical blow. Finally, I could stand it no longer. I swung round on her.

  “All right, Jane! All right!” I burst out. “You saw everything we did. It was terribly wrong of me, of us, but it's something we can't help; we try to make it as beautiful as possible, because that is the way we see it. But it is something that you must not do-ever. Between Stella and I it is something beautiful, but to the rest of society it is wrong.”

  “But I'm not the rest of society-I'm just Jane; and I think it's something beautiful.”

  I had to get a grip on things and make a show of authority.

  “Never mind what you think it is-you're not going to indulge in it. I shall write to your head mistress and tell her to keep a close watch on your activities-especially in the dormitory. Now that's the end of the conversation-don't you ever let me hear you talk like that again.”

  “Oh, no, mummy-that isn't the end of it. You should know your own daughter well enough to know that if she sets her heart on something she gets it. I've set my heart on this! I love you not only as a mummy, but also the way Stella loves you. I'll be sixteen in a few months and I think I've learnt about most things. I know that's what I want. I want it so much that if I don't get it, I shall go and tell dad the whole story-tonight!”

  “He wouldn't even listen to you!”

  “Not after what he's said about Stella? I've heard him talking to you about her; what did he call her — a lesbian?” So she knew about that, too! “I even heard him pulling your leg about her being after you. He'd listen all right!”

  “You-you wouldn't tell on your own mother, Jane, would you? You realise it would make everyone very unhappy-daddy included; it could.break your home up.”

  “I don't care! I want you and if I can't have you, I'd rather everything was broken up. I could stay at school all the time, then and I wouldn't have to be looking you and wanting you and knowing you and Stella were doing things I wanted to do. I knew about this before we went to Bridlington, by the way; I looked into the kitchen one morning when Stella came over and saw her feeling at you under your skirt. I guessed what you did together when you were over here with her.”

  “What you're asking of me is out of the question. I won't do it.”

  “Very well,” she replied without any hesitation, “I shall go across to the house now and tell dad everything.” She looked straight at me, then, and I saw her eyes were filled with tears. “I shall always love you, darling mummy; I hated doing this and I prayed you might have seen it my way. I'll go and see dad, now.”

  “How about having a nice cup of coffee first?” Stella stood just inside the doorway, holding a tray with three steaming cups. “Whatever it is you want to see your dad about will keep for a couple of minutes, won't it?”

  She came into the room and put the tray on a coffee table near the couch.

  “I-oh, all right.” Jane came back to the couch and accepted the cup Stella handed her.

  “Did you-er-hear any of the conversation Stella?” I asked quietly.

  “Oh, something Jane said she hated doing and that she'll always love you.” she replied lightly. She smiled at Jane. “Noting desperate, I hope?”

  “I think it's something you ought to know, Stella- about the two of us, I'm afraid.”

  “Oh?” Stella turned and walked over to the sideboard, fiddling about looking for cigarettes. When she turned back towards us, her face was pink, her mouth tight. I knew she at least guessed it was far more serious that either of us had thought.

  “Cigarette?” I took one gratefully. Stella tossed back her dark hair, took a deep drag on her cigarette and turned to face Jane. Even in that awful situation, I found myself thinking how beautiful she was, as she drew herself up austerely to face whatever was coming from my daughter. “And what is it about the two of us that I ought to know. Jane?” she asked quietly.

  Jane backed down somewhat when faced with the blunt question. She got up and walked over to the fireplace, stood looking down into the empty grate.

  “I–I don't think it's for me to say-it should be between you and mummy.”

  “I want to hear it from you, Jane.” Stella insisted. “I presume you brought the subject up.”

  “It's about what you and mummy do with each other,” muttered Jane, still looking into the fireplace.

  “Oh, we might as well get it over with.” I broke in. “We've had it all out, anyway. She saw us through the window as well as on the beach-she knows everything.”

  “Snooping?” muttered Stella, her lip curling. “And having snooped, what else has she stooped to-blackmail, I suppose?”

  “That's about the size of it.”

  “Let's hear the worst-what demands is she making?”

  “She wants me!” I murmured.

  “You! Jane-do you know what you're doing?”

  “I know what I want.” Jane turned towards us, her lips quivering. “I've hated myself for it-but I want it so much I'll do anything to get it.”

  “She says she's going to tell Phil everything unless I let her have what se wants.”

  “Would he believe her?”

  “I'm afraid he would. I didn't want you to know this, but in all fairness, I must tell you. You see-he likes you quite a lot-even says you're a 'smasher,' but he also thinks your might be a…”

  “Lesbian?”

  I nodded.

  “On what grounds?”

  “Oh, quite slim ones, actually-the fact that you live alone and have no husband or boy-friends. But with what Jane would have to tell him, it would all begin to add up.”

  “I see. It makes no difference to her that she will be breaking up her own home?”

  “None-her mind is made up. It's either me, or she tells Phil.”

  We talked for nearly an hour; Stella tried all sorts of arguments; threats, promises, even compromises, without the slightest effect. We even begged her to take the coming term at school to think it over, but it was useless. She wanted what she wanted and she wanted it now. Finally. Stella drew a deep breath and walked over to her; she placed her hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes.

  “You realise what an awful thing you're asking of your mother, Jane?” she asked quietly.

  Jane nodded, dropping her eyes.

  “And nothing will dissuade you?”

  A stubborn shake of the head.

  “Very well. Look at me, Jane.” Jane looked up at her. “If that is what you want — will you take me instead.”

  I gasped and Jane's eyes went wide.

  “You-you mean you'd let me…?” She stopped.

  “Do whatever you wanted with me-if you will promise not to tell your father about your mother and also that you'll leave your mother out of the
arrangement.”

  I could see that Jane was torn between the two of us. She looked at Stella's loveliness and was quite obviously sorely tempted. Then she shook her head and practically floored us with her next words.

  “No, I can't. You see-I–I had that in mind, too. I love mummy so very much,” and she looked over at me with longing eyes. “I couldn't make a promise like that. I think I love you, too, Aunt Stella, and…and I wanted to have you as well-eventually.”

  Stella and I looked at each other speechlessly.

  “Well, can you beat that!” gasped Stella. “She wants the pair of us!”

  “And I want to know tonight,” Jane pursued her advantage of surprise.

  It was now up to me to make the final and irrevocable decision. Negotiations had broken down, as the unions say, and there was no time to table any new proposals.

  “No, Stella-it's not your problem. It's all mine and up to me to try and solve it. I don't want the home broken up.” I looked at Jane; she was watching me, holding her breath as she waited for what I was going to say next. “All right, Jane-I'll do what you want,” I said simply.

  “Oh, mummy!” Then she burst into tears.

  Stella and I looked at each other silently. I gave a resigned shrug.

  “Didn't have any choice, did I? Come on, Jane- let's go home.”

  As we left, Stella squeezed my hand hard.

  “Want me to pop over in the morning, darling?” she whispered.

  “Please-about ten; I should have paid part of the blackmail by then and I'll need someone.”

  Before we went in, I made Jane pull herself together and dry her eyes; I felt nothing, just then-only slightly numbed.

  “Have a good time?” Phil greeted us.

  “Smashing!” Jane had brightened up and handed over the things she had brought him from her shopping trip to Bridlington.

  “Well, you've both acquired quite a tan.”

  The three of us were soon chattering away and the previous couple of hours had faded, for the time being, to an unreal shadow.

  After Jane had gone off to bed, Phil looked at me again and I recognised the old glint in his eye.

  “That white dress goes well with your tan; sort of sets it off-very sexy!”

  Although I didn't feel at all sexy just then, I smiled and let him take me into his arms, trying to appear willing. We kissed and he stroked my bare arms.

  “Shall we go to bed?” he whispered.

  “Mmm-let's!” I murmured, sounding enthusiastic. If he wanted sex, I thought, I'd have to let him have it; after being away for three days with Stella, I couldn't — I daren't-show unwilling.

  We undressed and I could see by the way he kept looking at me he was going to want it. I didn't bother with a nightie, but slipped into my dressing gown to go to the toilet first. There, I went through the task of rousing myself as best I could with my fingers, using my old trick of lifting my breasts to my mouth to raise the nipples. I looked at them and felt at my sex to see how I was doing. I'd pass muster, I thought, to start with- he would probably be able to do the rest.

  As I took the dressing gown off and climbed naked into bed beside him, slipping naturally into his arms, it occurred to me how completely divorced this part of my life was to my association with Stella. The word “divorce” brought my mind back to what I had consented to do with Jane to avoid one.

  To take my thoughts away from the morrow, I forced myself into an erotic frame of mind. I grasped my husband's stiff prick, lifted one leg and rubbed the knob up and down along my slit. I rubbed my breasts against his chest, kissing him and wriggling against him, rousing us both.

  “Say — we are sexy tonight, aren't we!” he gasped, nevertheless taking full advantage of the situation.

  “Any complaints?” I grinned in the darkness.

  “No complaints!”

  “Come — come on, darling, take me!” I panted, squirming on to my back and opening my legs.

  He needed no second invitation; he was on me, between my thighs and his hot penis shoved up me to the hilt almost before I had the words out.

  I lay back, lifting my pelvis up for his deep thrusts, legs locked over his. His mouth crushed down on mine and I felt him come, gouts of semen squirting into me from his throbbing prick. I jerked my buttocks high off the bed to keep him right inside me, as I came myself. When it was over, I got out of bed again.

  “You still didn't remember to get those tablets, did you?”

  “Hell — yes! I did-forgot all about them; they're in my coat pocket.”

  “Fat lot of good they'll do there! One of them should have been in me! Oh, well-at least we have got some. I'll remember them next time.”

  “Like-tomorrow morning?”

  “Sex maniac!”

  I gave myself a douche and came back to bed. He was lying back, relaxed, with the light on. He turned towards me as I climbed in.

  “Behave yourself over the week-end?” he grinned.

  “I always behave myself!”

  “More to the point-did Stella?”

  On that old tack again! I felt more annoyed than guilty then; annoyed because he had brought into focus what I was to face in the morning.

  “You know Stella will get to know about what you call her one day and bring a libel suit, or something! You keep harping on the subject-what do you think she did at Bridlington-raped me?”

  “That would have been interesting!”

  “I do believe that if anything like that happened, you'd want to watch!”

  “I'll bet that would be quite an exhibition!”

  Stung, I turned to look at him.

  “Would you like me to arrange it? I'll say 'Stella, my husband says you are a lesbian and wants to watch you make love to me-naked, of course!' Would that suit you?”

  “Oh, come off it, Rita-I'm only pulling your leg.”

  And there it ended. Needless to say-I slept worse than badly that night, dreading the morning and the time Phil would leave for the office, leaving me to the tender mercies of my darling daughter!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Phil brought me my cup of tea and rushed off, late for work. I got out of bed, started to put on a nightie, thought better of it and got back into bed again. What was the use of a nightie-it would only add to embarrassment when I had to take it off again. I assumed Jane would want me in bed, unless she had any new ideas!

  Again, I got out of the bed, paced up and down naked. No, better get into bed again-she'd be here any minute. I wetted a sponge at the wash-basin, sponged between my legs to have as little odour as possible, in case she wanted to use her mouth on me. I shuddered at the thought of the fantastic situation. Jane using her mouth on me, her mother! I got back into bed and pulled the sheets up to my chin, waiting.

  “Mummy?”

  I must have dozed off; as I opened my eyes, there was Jane pulling the sheet back and climbing into bed with me. I moved over to give her room, keeping my face averted. Eagerly, she snuggled into me, running her hands over my body.

  “All lovely and bare.” She sat up and pulled off her nightie, then lay down again, stroking me.

  I laud still, on my back, my legs slightly parted, as she caressed me, not looking at her. She forced me to, eventually, turning my face and pressing her lips to mine.

  “Love me, mummy,” she whispered, getting on top of me and holding me tightly.

  “I thought that was what you wanted to do to me,” I whispered back.

  “I want what you and Stella do-love each other.”

  She rolled from me, then, and her hands were wandering over my body again, finally lifting one of my breasts and taking the nipple into her mouth. Then began the sucking and licking that caused such havoc with my body, no matter what my frame of mind. Both nipples received the treatment and I had to lie still while she examined her handiwork afterwards, the two buttons of flesh rampant and red with erotic desire.

  “Now I want you to make mine like that.”

  Withou
t a word, I turned as she lay on her back and took one of her nipples between my lips, feeling it warm and beginning to stir. “Suck it, mummy,” she murmured. “Suck it hard”!

  Doing my best to keep from thinking anything at all, I sucked, bringing the young teat to its full size.

  “Now the other one,” she breathed ecstatically.

  I worked on the other until it was in the same condition. She pressed close to me again, then, her hands fondling; my breasts were stroked and the nipples squeezed. Then her hands wandered down to my hips — smoothed over them, down along my thighs and back up. She made me turn on to my stomach, then, while she stroked my buttocks and the backs of my thighs, kissing my back and shoulders. I felt one finger just below my bottom, gently pressing between my thighs. I knew she was eventually going to go for my “vital spot.” It would have been more embarrassing having her force my legs open than doing it voluntarily.