Gilmore Girlfriends | By : LL72 Category: G through L > Gilmore Girls Views: 61792 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: "Disclaimer: I do not own Gilmore Girls and I do not make any money from these writings |
It all started innocently enough. If I’d have known that it was going to lead to me becoming my Mom’s sex toy I’d have… well I’d have done exactly the same.
Mom’s work had decided to have a big formal dinner at a swish new restaurant and club; partners invited. Except Mom had one problem; she was going through a dry spell sex wise. I tried my best to help and came up with a list of eligible men who Mom might want to invite. She’s is way too fussy; they were too fat, too thin, too old, too young, too married, not married because the State doesn’t allow gay marriages. Eventually I put down the list after Mom had turned down my final suggestion of the Trash Collector, "He’s got a nice smile, but his paunch is so big I think he might be pregnant." I admit I was stumped. It looked like Mom would have to go on her own. Hopefully, there are enough couples that she’d only have to be the spare wheel for ten minutes with each of them. Mom was desperately trying to avoid that fate; as she had told me there’s not much worse than the pitying looks people in pairs give someone sitting on their lonesome. "There’s nothing for it," she suddenly said, "you’ll have to come to keep me company." I whined and pleaded. It was a Friday night; I wanted to be with my friends; everyone there would be ancient. None of it did any good. When Mom gets what she thinks is a good idea even a nuclear holocaust won’t put her off. Still, at least I managed to talk her into getting me a new dress and allowing me to have a few drinks with my meal. * I sat in the living room waiting for Mom to come down. Outside the cab honked it’s horn again. I could hear Mom opening the bathroom mirror and shouting down, "We’ll just be a minute," before slamming the window shut. A few minutes later she came downstairs. She looked divine. She had styled her hair so fashionably she could have passed for a teenager. She gave me a quick curtsey and smile; the ruby red lipstick lit up her face. "Are you ready?" she said. Her black dress was cut short at the sides, exposing her calves as she walked. It was also cut in such a way at the top that it exposed enough cleavage to be daringly sexy, without descending into sluttishness. I followed her out. Her high heels were designed to both accent the shape of her legs and to give her hips that light swing that men staring at a woman’s ass love. There was no doubt about it. Mom was on the pull. I groaned inwardly. That meant I’d be sitting at my own at the table whilst Mom chatted to any single man who a) showed interest and b) had teeth. And I’m not sure if she was that fussed about option b). The less said about that night the better. As I suspected after the meal Mom had started doing the rounds of anything wearing trousers. I sat at the table on my own, continually filling my wineglass. Now, I’ve had a few drinks before. Mom isn’t one of these totally up-tight women who won’t let their kids touch a drop until they’re twenty-one. But when Mom and I open a bottle of wine I’m only allowed it in moderation – I don’t think I’ve ever drunk more than one and half small glasses. As I was sitting there on my own, not talking to anyone, no one could tell how drunk I was getting. And that included me. I noticed that people had got up from their tables and were dancing politely to the crooner on stage. In my state I decided that not only would it be a good idea to join them, but that I should liven up the sedentary with a Highland Fling. Which is how seconds later I found myself sitting on my ass, with everyone in the place looking at my panties. I sat there stupefied for a moment and then I felt someone hands on my arm, lightly tugging me up. "Okay Rory," said Mom, "We better get you home." The night air did nothing for my drunkenness and I was still well gone when the cab driver pulled up outside our house. Mom struggled for a few seconds to put the key in the lock, as I struggled to stay upright. Even as I looked at Mom I swear I could see her titties wobbling and expanding. They were a damn fine pair, and I wondered why I’d never noticed that whilst sober. You think going ass over tip I’d have done my share of stupid things for the evening. I obviously hadn’t… Mom opened the door and turned to me. And that’s when I threw myself at her and not in a tackle to the ground type of throw either. I literally jumped into her arms and wrapped my legs round her back, all I can say is lucky Mom is stronger than she looks or I’d have bounced my ass on the ground for the second time that night. My lips pushed against hers and I squeezed tight. I could see Mom’s face and it wasn’t the look I got when I kissed a boy. She dropped me to the ground, none to gently and took my wrist before I could leap again. Actually I wasn’t going to… I already felt pretty stupid and also the front yard seemed to have decided to take off. "Let’s get you to bed, young lady," said Mom. With Mom’s help I tottered to my room. It whizzed around like a whirlpool and it took a lot of effort to make the bed stay still long enough for me to fall face down on it. And that’s all I remember. * I don’t think teenagers would drink alcohol if anyone properly explained what a hangover is like. When I came too my mouth was like the Sahara desert. I’d have got up and got myself a drink of water, if it wasn’t that every time I moved someone drilled into my skull. I lay there weakly as the memories started to come back. As if being ill wasn’t enough I’d thrown myself at my Mom like I was a cheap three-penny hooker. I opened my eyes and saw the dress I had been wearing folded over my chair. Mom had stripped me to my bra and panties before letting me sleep it off. Eventually my head felt like it was only an elephant walking through it rather than a herd and I hoisted myself out of bed. I slipped into a robe and staggered downstairs. Mom was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the paper. She looked up as I came in. "How are you feeling?" she smiled and poured me some juice. I gratefully gulped it down and then drank the refill, anything to avoid having to talk to Mom. I couldn’t avoid it however, "Mom, about last night…" She interrupted me, "Don’t worry; we all do things when we’re drunk. And I guess anything I do won’t be as bad as your hangover." She was damn right there. "And Rory," she gave me a teasing smile, "If you’re going to make out with someone best to use a little tongue." * I thought it had ended there. Very drunken daughter makes a clumsy pass at Mom, Mom brushes her off and daughter sobers up and thinks, ‘I’m an idiot.’ Of course it wasn’t the end, not even close… A few weeks later Mom got a promotion and with it a hefty pay rise. On Friday, two weeks to the day since my drunken escapade, we went out to celebrate; just the two of us. It was the first time I’d touched alcohol since then. Sharing a bottle with Mom my intake was much more modest, though we were both pleasantly tipsy when we left to walk home. Our inhibitions had been lowered and as we started to walk home arm in arm our conversation became much smuttier. It started with me telling Mom about the boys I’d kissed. Then she described how I’d been conceived – in graphic detail. I upped the ante by describing how I’d like to finger myself in the shower. Mom still beat me by describing how she had a dildo in her bedside drawer, with which she frequently pleasured herself. When we got home Mom poured us both a large helping of wine and we sat cross-legged on the sofa. "So," said Mom, "what did the boys think about your kissing skills?" "Mommm…. I don’t know. I enjoyed it though." "Well as they didn’t come back for more I guess they didn’t," Mom said and I hoped she was being more blunt than she intended. I don’t think she was as after she taken a gulp of wine, she continued, "And that’s because, Rory, you’re kissing is terrible." I blushed as Mom gave a critique based on her very limited experience of me when drunk. Finally I managed to butt in, "Fine; show me how’s it done," I said. She took another gulp of wine and stood up, "Okay then. Come here." I stood in front of her. Mom put her arms on my shoulders and put her hands together round the back of my neck. She pulled me closer and then gave me a peck on the lips. "That’s…" I was about to say ‘useless’, but I didn’t get a chance as Mom’s lips touched mine again. Except this time she opened them slightly so they rubbed against mine, giving me a little tingle. I followed her example and opened my mouth slightly. We practised like that for a short while and then Mom moved into ‘kissing stage three’. Her tongue slid from beneath her lips and pushed mine further apart so that it slid into my mouth. I almost choked in shock, but not quiet. I had to admit that feeling Mom’s tongue inside me wasn’t unpleasant. In fact it was giving me a very funny feeling in my pussy. Making out with Mom was turning me on. "Like it?" Mom asked. That would be an under-reaction I felt, but I’m a typical stroppy teenager, so all I managed was, "It wasn’t bad." Mom arched an eyebrow at me. I had the grace to blush. "Well we better try some more," said Mom and came in again. This time I knew what was coming and so responded naturally. My tongue clamped against Mom’s and we both fought to control each other’s mouths. Then Mom’s unclasped her hands. I wondered if this was a hint that the lesson was over, but Mom’s enthusiastic tongue movements told me it wasn’t. I discovered what she was doing with her hands when I felt the tip of her fingers slide in the top of my jeans. I momentarily cursed the tightness as Mom’s fingers jammed in at the top. Mom did break then, "If you unbutton it’ll help," she instructed and then resumed making out with me. I did as I was told and with one hand unbuttoned my jeans. I expected Mom’s hand to nestle on top of my panties, which would have been further than I’d been with any boy. She didn’t. Her hands slid beneath the denim and then beneath my cotton knickers, so that I could feel her hands rubbing on the flesh of my butt cheeks. I knew this shouldn’t turn me on. After all we were only practising, I told myself. But at the same time those feelings in my loins were getting stronger, more than any other time. I knew I had to break the kiss and by a supreme act of willpower did so. I looked at Mom, she was breathing heavily, her tits heaving as she did so. Her face was red, but with pleasure not shame. Her hand came up and brushed my cheek, "You’re beautiful," she whispered. And my willpower left me as I looked into her eyes and replied, "So are you." "Rory, would you lick me out?" asked Mom as naturally as if she was asking me to take out the trash. "Sure, Mom," I replied calmly. In truth I was terrified. A few of the girls at school had told me what it was like to have oral sex, but they hadn’t told me how to do it. I guessed I’d just have to make it up as I went along. After all, I reasoned as I knelt down in front of Mom, how hard can it be. Mom had undone her jeans for me. I gripped the hem and pulled them down to Mom’s ankles, allowing her to step out of them. In front of me I could see Mom’s white panties. I gripped the elastic, aware that if I pulled them down I was going to pass over an invisible line. My hesitation only lasted for a moment. It had been several years since I’d seen Mom’s cunt, when I accidentally wandered in when she was having a bath. Then she had a very hairy beaver, but sometime since then she must have decided to go Brazilian as the slit which was in front of my eyes was a smooth as marble. I waited nervously whilst Mom stepped out of her panties. Before I could start Mom spoke again, "Rory; don’t go straight in. Start with some licking and teasing round the edge." I nodded and licked my lips. They were dry with tension. I moved closer, my nostrils inhaling the musky aroma that was coming from Mom’s pussy. I could see a trickle of jizz on lips and I slid my tongue over it to lap it up. There was too little to taste, but I could hear Mom give a moan, "Rory," she murmured. I repeated the movement and again there was a satisfied sound from Mom. I pursed my lips and kissed the flesh beside the pussy, moving out my tongue and rubbing it against the smooth skin. I felt Mom’s hand lightly on my shoulder as she shuddered under my touch. With Mom pleased reactions I began to grow more confident and I began to run my tongue all around her pussy lips, until they were covered both in my spittle and her cum "Oh…. Oh…. Put it in now, please, lick me out," Mom sobbed. Her hands were gripping my shoulders more tightly, squeezing her fingers into my flesh, so I did as she asked. As soon as my tongue entered her wet twat I could taste her juice. It fizzed against my tongue and as I lapped it entered my throat and splashed against my tonsils. I rolled about trying to find Mom’s clit. A hard bit of skin and a shriek from Mom told me when I found it. I rammed my tongue into it. With each dart I could feel Mom quivering in pleasure, with each vibration growing in intensity as I worked her towards orgasm. A deluge of Mom cum entered my mouth as she came. Her hands let go off my shoulders as she exploded like a live wire. "Rory, Rory, ohhhh fuck, Rory." I looked up at her, aware that I was blushing bright red. Mom looked down at me, "Rory, that was… that was awesome." I stood up, suddenly aware of what I’d done, "Yeah Mom. I’m tired. I’ll see you tomorrow." I fled to my bedroom. * I struggled to sleep that night – not even my normal relaxation wank could help. In fact it made it worse, as all I could think about as my finger slid into my hole was Mom’s pussy. When I did manage to finally nod off my dreams were erotic, but disturbing, visions of Mom and I, intertwined and sweaty. The sun was streaming through the crack in my curtains by the time I awoke. It wasn’t the light playing over my face that had woken me. "Morning," said Mom, "How’s my slutty daughter?" She was sitting on my bed, wearing a tiny nightie. I guessed it must have been new, as I’d have noticed if my Mom wandered around the house in a piece of see-through material that barely reached below her belly button. I blushed – the memories of the last night were still fresh. "I’m not slutty," I whined – though the evidence in my defence wasn’t strong. "You munched pussy on a first date," countered Mom. "It wasn’t a date…" I replied. "Even sluttier," responded Mom. Then she pulled back the bedclothes and climbed into bed beside me. For a moment my sleep befuddled brain wondered whether I should tell her to leave. Fortunately, her mouth enclosed mine and stopped me saying something I might later regret. Mom wriggled about and ended up lying on top of me. Her large tits crushed down and I could feel the hardness of her teats, through the thin material. We slurped away greedily at each other mouths for a few minutes, before I felt her hand moving down and pulling up the hem of my T-shirt. I didn’t wear panties at night so there were no further obstacles to Mom as she started to push a finger into my slit. I gasped and broke the kiss, "Mom, what…" She smiled at me, "I’m about to give you an orgasm." I lay back and Mom’s mouth closed onto my neck, which she began to kiss and lick in time with the thrusts of her finger. I let out a moan as her finger banged against my clit. "Oh, Oh, Oh, Mom," I muttered into her ear. Her digit prodded away. I could feel a growing dampness in my pussy spread down into my thighs. Having someone else finger me, even my own Mom, was much better than doing it myself I decided. The hot flush coursing through my body made my toes curl in pleasure and I let out another groan. I was building up. Mom sensed how near I was and began to thrust faster. I let go a shriek of joy as the mind-blowing orgasm almost shattered me like a mirror. Mom withdrew her finger and put it in her mouth. She sucked away my juices with the seductiveness of a naughty schoolgirl feasting on a lollipop. "How would you like a treat?" she asked. "You mean that wasn’t?" She laughed, "No… well yes it was. But I meant how would you like breakfast in bed?" Normally the only time I ate in bed was when I was ill and then it was normally nothing more than some dry toast and orange juice. It seemed like this was going to be a strange weekend. 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