Now am I Your Girlfriend? (a mother’s perspective — one more time)

Now am I Your Girlfriend? (a mother's perspective — one more time) Oh my God. I've just spent the last half-hour listening to my daughter describe, in some detail, her sexual explorations with her brother. I'm both shocked and happy for both of them at the same time. But what on Earth was going on here? And what was with my cunt practically dripping? An hour ago, I saw my daughter grind herself to an orgasm while her brother's cock was in her ass! And I didn't fly off the handle! No! Not even when he seemed to be asking her to be his wife! His wife? For godssake! She's only twelve, and he's only fourteen! And to top it off, she seemed to accept the proposal! Then she tells me about it when we're alone! She talks about how much she loves his cock in her anus, for chrissakes. She tells me she loves his cum! Apparently he likes to tongue her ass? I mean, where do these kids get these ideas? These aren't things I ever did with my ex. And besides...Just how do they come up with these "acts?" They can't have learned this stuff in school. And again why is my cunt dripping? Why am I so horny hearing about all this? Why are my fingers deep in my cunt, desperately trying to come? My whole world is in shambles, but I find myself "happy" for both of them, while at the same time so fucking confused I can barely think straight. And God, I need to come. I can smell my own desire. My clit is throbbing. I'm stroking my g-spot. Oh, God, I'm coming so hard my legs give out. Now, I'm recovering...I'm not sure what to do next. Do I just finish cooking dinner, and act like nothing's going on? Do I confront my son? No. No, I decide. What good will come of me heaping guilt on these kids. Why, if they seem so happy, would I want to destroy their happiness? Maybe they'll grow out of it, but from what my daughter tells me, it's been going on for some time. Is it so wrong? Well, of course it is! But maybe not...maybe they're just experimenting. But no, my daughter tells me "it's perfect." Maybe it is. Maybe I need to hear more from her about how it started... The next time I could have my daughter to myself was on one of those rare evenings when my son wasn't home. I called my daughter to the living room, and asked her to please sit with me. She seemed a little nervous, but I did everything I could to help her relax. "So, tell me sweetheart," I asked her, "and again, I'm not upset about your relationship with your brother, but I am curious about how it all started." "Oh, Mom" she sighed. "How would I even start? Ever since I can remember, I've felt like I was in love with my brother. He was always so sweet to me...helping me with my homework, laughing at my silly jokes, and always walking me back and forth to school." She continued, "A couple years ago, he started holding my hand when we walked. I felt like I was floating. I asked him if I was his girlfriend, but all he said was, 'Maybe...maybe someday.' But he was smiling, and I knew he was just teasing me." Then she said, "Sometimes, it was hard to fall asleep. I just kept thinking about his smile, and his eyes, oh God, those eyes. He'd hold my hand whenever we walked together, and one day he told me I was beautiful...then he kissed me on my cheek...I thought I was going to die, I was so happy." "Did you ever tell him how you were feeling?" I asked my daughter. "Oh," she said. "I didn't have to. I was always just looking forward to the next time he would kiss me, or touch me. Even when he was helping me with my homework, he'd give me a little kiss, or touch my face when I asked him a question. He treated me like I was a princess...and I loved the attention." "Did you ever think about why your big brother would pay so much attention to his little sister?" I asked my daughter. "I mean, most brothers don't kiss their sisters unless they have too." "No." My daughter said. "And I never thought about what I was feeling myself. All I know is that it seems like I was always...I don't know...kind of in love with my brother. I was just happy that he seemed to feel the same way about me–but he wouldn't come right out and say it." "Did that hurt your feelings?" I asked. "I never thought about it that way...I just thought he was...maybe being shy. We'd always be kissing, or holding hands...until, well, you know...but it always felt like it was a good thing, what we were doing. And I never said, 'I love you' to him either...well, until, you know...until I had my first orgasm with him." "Did you ever think about the fact that most brothers and sisters don't have sex together? I asked. "Mom! She exclaimed. "No! We're not 'having sex' together. I know how the boys at school talk about this stuff, like it's something dirty that they make girls do. My brother never 'made me' do anything, and I never thought about anything like 'sex.' We...well we just started...you know...and it's always been just, I dunno...'loving.' "Did your brother ask you to do anything, like...well you know, like taking him in your mouth, or anything like that?" I asked. "Oh Mom!" she cried. "No! It's never been like that! And I never asked him to do anything. Maybe you think I'm too young to understand, but we just love each other...and we just, well, we just do what feels right at the moment. My brother never forced anything on me...he just loves me." "Whose idea was it to, well...I don't know how to ask this...put his, you know..." My question drifted off... "You mean to have him put his cock inside my anus?" She asked. "I wanted him there. I'm the one, and I did it because I wanted to feel his whole body holding me while he was loving me. But he'd already told me about cum, and babies, so I thought having him...you know, in my anus, instead of my cunt...and I loved how it felt having him inside me. And I loved how it made me come. And I loved feeling him cum inside me." "I'm sorry, I'm asking so many questions, baby." I said. "But I need to know you're safe. It's not every mother who sees her daughter making love with her brother, particularly not with her son's cock in her daughter's ass. And when I saw you grinding your cunt into him, and coming yourself.... In most cases, this kind of 'incest' is more like...well it's more like how you hear the boys at school tell it." "I love him" she said firmly. "I love my brother, and I don't know anything about 'incest.' All I know is that I love him, and we're going to get married–he asked me, and I said yes. And it's not only about how he makes me cum, or how he cums..." She continued, "When I took his cock in my mouth, I wasn't thinking about 'blowjobs,' or whatever 'the boys' call it. I thought his cock was beautiful, and I wanted to kiss it and feel him in my mouth. I didn't know anything about 'cum,' or what it was, but when it happened, I just knew...I just knew he felt the same way he always made me feel." "It was the first time it happened for him in all of our time together. Later, when we talked about it, he told me that he was afraid to let it happen because he didn't want to get me pregnant. And he told me that he would make it happen for himself, when I wasn't around, because he didn't want to scare me. Mom, he was so sweet to me. And once I knew what cum was, and that it was a sign that I could make him feel as good as he made me feel, I knew I wanted more...I just wanted more...of him, and his love." I was blown away. How could a twelve-year-old girl understand more about love and sex than any adult–myself included knew? God, how I envied her...and I envied my son as well. "We've been together like this for a little over a year," she said. "Please don't make us stop. I love him, and he loves me, and we're going to get married someday." "No, baby." I said. "I'm not going to 'make you stop,' or do anything but be happy for you. I know you're safe, and that's all that matters to me. But I do insist we get you on birth control, so none of us have to worry about you becoming pregnant until you're ready to raise children." "Are you gonna talk to him, too?" She asked. "You know, sweetheart...no. I'm not going to talk to your brother about this. In fact, unless you ever need to talk to me again about your relationship with your brother, we never have to say anything more about it. You're happy. You're in love. You have a healthy, beautiful love with your brother...a love I always hoped I could find. And I hope that maybe someday you can be married, but I don't think the laws will ever allow it. And I also hope that the two of you keep in mind that this is entirely private and between the two of you–not your friends, or anyone else. Not even me." "Ok, mommy," she said. And it was the last time we ever spoke, specifically, about her sexual relationship with her brother–even when she got her prescription for birth control pills. But it wasn't the last time my fingers would worm their way into my cunt while thinking about my daughter's sweet ass being filled with her brother's cum. Oh, I fantasized; did she suck his cock clean afterwards? Could she deep throat? Did my son suck his come out of her ass? My daughter already told me they would kiss after he ejaculated in her mouth. Did he like the taste of his cum? My daughter told me how he loved her anus. Did they kiss when he finished worshipping her asshole? Oh, the depraved, porn-addicted things I thought of while bringing myself off. But every time I saw them together, I knew it wasn't true. They weren't acting out porn scenes. They just loved each other. And as they grew into their teens, and even into adulthood, it became more obvious–they were already a married couple...just a couple that never seemed to argue or fight. That knowledge still couldn't stop my imagination. The thought of my daughter filled with, or covered with my son's cum could always make me reach for my cunt. Added by Michelle

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