Katie Loves Her Mom Ch. 03

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If vibrators are this much fun, what must dildos be like?
5.1k words
4.75
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 10/30/2022
Created 12/12/2013
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I met my husband at the airport at 6:00. My daughter, true to her word, had made herself scarce; she was spending the evening with friends. She had left my libido in overdrive, having departed with a flurry of soul searching kisses. I was ready to fuck my husband senseless.

One look told me that wasn't going to be hard; he was exhausted. He walked down the concourse at half his usual speed toting a large blue travel bag. Nonetheless, when I caught his eye his face lit up and he quickened his pace. He kissed me, put down his luggage, and gave me a giant hug.

"It's good to be home."

"It's good to have you home. Long week?"

"Yeah, and I had trouble sleeping last night. We didn't finish the deposition. I've got to go back next week."

As we left the parking deck I reached over to fondle his crotch. He got my meaning. "It's nice to be missed, but I'm not sure I'll be all that good a bed-buddy tonight. I'm pooped."

"You'll do just fine, always do. If its okay with you I intend to take advantage of Katie's absence."

Once we hit the highway he dozed off and by the time we got home, god bless him, he'd found his second wind. I jumped from the car, proclaiming a race to the bedroom. Even with my head start he tackled me at the top of the stairs and kissed my mouth. His kisses were desperate and passionate, letting me know, even after our short separation, how happy he was to be home. He forced his hand into my pants and covered my vagina, slipping a finger inside me and moving it in a slow circular pattern, saying in his most lecherous voice, "I've missed this."

He knew how to touch me. My pussy lips swelled. He scooped a few drops from within me and brought his hand to his face. Taking a theatrical sniff, he said, "I love the way you smell," and after his tongue flicked the liquid from his finger, "and taste. Babe, I simply adore your sweet pussy."

He slid down a stair or two, pulling my pants down as he went, and then explored me with his mouth, acting as if he was on his first and not his thousandth visit. He licked here, looked there, and buried his nose somewhere else. After twenty years of devoted munching my husband understood exactly what I needed; he knew more about my cunt than I did. He lightly licked me, teased me, and watched me squirm, while listening to my murmurs and moans.

As my flow increased he curled his tongue and slipped it inside me, capturing my juice and drinking it down. He replaced his tongue with a finger, which he pumped in and out of me, and looked up. My pussy juice was smeared over his smiling face. "It appears you've missed me just a little too." At the same time his finger found my g-spot. My toes curled; god I was getting hot. I took hold of his head to urge him towards my sex. "Oh god have I honey, oh god I have. Now please, baby, please eat my pussy."

He continued to work my sex with his fingers while the tip of his tongue lapped around the top of my labia, following the contours of my clit and it's hood. I yearned for more, but, frustratingly, it appeared he still wanted to chat: "Oh babe, you've got such a hot sexy cunt. I love the way it smells and tastes. I could live down here. I've got the sexiest hottest wife on the planet. I wish we could spend our lives just fucking. When I was away I dreamed of eating and fucking your sweet pussy, I missed your fat tits and your soft lips. My dick got so hard when ever I thought about you."

I smiled, but was about to tell him to shut up and lick, when he ran the flat of his tongue across my clit. "Uuuunnnnnhhhhhh..." is all that came out. He continued lapping it, sometimes with the surface of his tongue, sometimes with its tip, but he was relentless. The finger playing with the opening of my vagina ventured inside, returning to my g-spot. He gently tapped and rubbed it, matching his finger's rhythm to the assault of his tongue.

"Unnnngh!"

Another wet finger slipped inside me, also teasing the g-spot and sending electric shocks up my spine. The inside of my cunt swelled, becoming even more sensitive. I was bucking and thrashing. I wrapped my legs around his head and shoulders, trapping his face against my vagina. The pressure in my gut increased, craving release, and then he slowed the pace, leaving me hovering on a plateau of insane pleasure, suspending me in all the delights a happy cunt can bring a woman. I ran my hand through his gray hair, moaning my pleasure.

And then he knew it was time. He sucked my clitoris into his mouth, creating an air-tight vacuum that pulled my clit from its protective hood. After a few quick teases and swirling circles, he attacked my clit like a boxer on a speed bag: lightly tapping it with blinding speed: rat-a-tat-tat. I let go of his head and grabbed the edge of a stair, pushing my sex into his face. He curled the tip of his tongue and licked my clittie, sometimes side-to-side, mostly up and down, a practice he had learned long ago I couldn't long resist. My inner thighs shook and my eyes rolled back into my head. I was almost there.

Juice had leaked from my cunt into my ass crack. Continuing to work my g-spot with his index and middle finger, his pinky moved to my anus. He carefully poked it inside, playing with the sensitive opening. At the same time he trapped my clit between his tongue and teeth, licking it with intense abandon.

Inside me was a coiled spring, tightened as far as it could go, and then tightening some more. The tension was so powerful I was close to begging god for release when it all came undone and, leveraging my hips on the carpeted stairs, I pushed my sex into my husband's face shouting, "OHMIGOD, FFFFUUUUUUCCCCKKKKK." I was cumming, cumming all over, cumming on the inside and the outside, cumming in my toes and in my cunt. I was wailing and screaming, grinding myself in his face, my legs and arms flailing about. It was heaven, fucking heaven.

His tongue slowed, but never stopped, coaxing me through several follow-up orgasms until my body, all tension now vanquished, went slack. My arms unclenched, I let go of his head, and at some point, I'm not sure when, I stopped pounding my hips into his face. Finally, spent, I pushed his head away and lay there, sucking in air, while he covered the area around my pussy with tiny little kisses, sweet kisses, perfect kisses. And then, he moved up the stairs and lay next to me.

"I've missed you honey."

My voice was quiet and dreamy when I said, "I've missed you too," and, after a short delay, "and not only because you're the best pussy eater on the planet."

"Hmmm. I guess I don't want to know the research that went into that finding."

I lay in his arms, recovering my strength next to the man I had spent the last two decades loving. Finally, I said, "Let's see if we can make it to the bedroom," and struggled to my feet.

When we got to our bedroom I pushed him back on the bed. He lay on his back. Despite his exhaustion, eating my pussy had left him in a state of high arousal; I got on my knees between his legs and took his hard rod in my hand. I looked at it, then him, and was struck by my love for this man. I thought of my girlfriends' complaints. After twenty years of marriage most of their husbands, after a long business trip, would have begged off sex for a beer and good night's sleep. Mine, as always, was ready to please. I licked the length of his rock-hard cock. It trembled and dripped pre-cum. When I reached the crown I explored its every nook and cranny, and then took him in my mouth, moving my head up and down while lashing the sensitive underside of his beautiful dick with my tongue. He usually liked watching his tool disappear into my face, but at the moment his head was rolled back on a pillow, eyes shut. His moans were short and low. He lay his hands on the back of my head, not trying to control my movements, but instead savoring the physical contact.

I knew if I kept on like this he'd cum and, although I loved swallowing his cream, tonight I wanted him in my pussy. I grabbed the shaft and straddled his hips, aiming it for my wet swollen pussy. His hands crawled up my body to my breasts, his thumbs teasing my nipples.

His thick member sent a wild thrill streaking through me. My daughter had a talented mouth, but there was no substitute for my husband's fat cock. I looked down and watched the lips of my hungry cunt swallow him. God, I had missed his luscious prick, his fuck tool. I had imagined letting him creep slowly within me, but I wanted him inside me right now and pushed down hard, taking him in a quick motion. His cock seemed to throb, almost violently, against the stretched walls of my cunt, sending wild sensations racing through my flesh. I squeezed his cock with my cunt muscles.

"My God you're hot," he moaned.

We settled into a happy fuck rhythm. I was not going to tease or bring him along slowly; I wanted his seed in me now. Soon he was grunting deep from his solar plexus.

It always turned him on when I licked my tits. I cupped one, brought it to my mouth, and sucked my nipple with enough force to make my cheeks concave. I spit it out, squealed, "Oh god honey, it feels so good," and dragged my tongue across the nipple. I moved the other breast to my mouth, locked my lips over the areola, and started noisily slurping.

That was enough. He jammed his hips into me, rammed his cock deep, and grunted, "OH, OH! FUCK CUMMING! Urgghhhh!!" and poured his cum into my happy ready twat. After a final happy moan his spent body collapsed, relaxed, and molded itself to the bed.

The days when my husband invariably stayed hard after his first orgasm had passed. When he did, and it was still often, he was like a giddy school boy, joyfully rolling me over for another fuck. But tonight it was not going to happen. Instead he pulled me close, told me how much he loved me, and fell into a deep happy sleep.

After I was sure I would not wake him I crawled from our bed and sent Katie a text: "I need you home, now!"

She arrived ten minutes later, entering the house to the sight of her naked Mama. She undid her shirt -- she was braless -- and pulled my happy face to tits. I hungrily sucked them. She then kissed my lips, aggressively sinking her tongue deep in my mouth. Understanding that the time for foreplay had passed, she walked me to the couch, pushed me down, and ate me through a series of potent orgasms.

We switched places and I ate until she ad come in my mouth several times. When done I asked her to pick up the clothes strewn around the house; my spent body was incapable of anything further, and crawled into bed with my sleeping husband. He had a wide smile on his face. I snuggled up close. There were two people in the house who loved me and whom I loved. Both knew how to make sweet love to me. How to balance?

* * * *

Katie was good to her word. She did not get in the way of my sex-life with her Dad. In fact, she reveled in getting me ready for him. When Ryan was in the next room or pulling in the driveway, her hand would find its way to my ass, or her lips to mine, or her fingers between my legs. Then, when I was good and hot, she'd announce she was off to see friends or take some additional instruction from Coach, leaving my husband the beneficiary of my rampaging lust.

On his third day back, after a long hard fuck, he told me he had scheduled his trip to complete the deposition: he wold leave Saturday night, meet with the lawyer Sunday, and be deposed on Monday. He'd be back that evening.

"I just hate leaving you and Katie so soon," he started, but paused, "except, of course, if you're always going to be this ravenous when I return, I might learn to adjust."

Each day that week featured a marathon fuck session. On Saturday we left early for the airport. On the way I gave him a splendid blow job and once there we found a secluded part of the parking deck for a good-bye fuck. When I got home my naked daughter was waiting in bed for me. Thank God for second winds.

* * * *

I was making coffee the next morning when Katie padded down the stairs, wearing white panties and a white tee shirt. She was braless; the shirt accented her large round breasts and their erect nipples.

Enjoying my stare, she poured herself a cup of coffee. When she sauntered back to the table I watched her wiggling ass. After that display she had my complete attention when she turned to look at me and said, "Y'know Mommy-o, I've had guys in my mouth and I've used my hands on them and I let them do the same to me, but I've never had one up here."

She slipped a finger in her vagina and holding up her now sticky fingers, continued. "Just haven't found the right guy yet. Not that my girlfriends seem all that impressed: they mostly report guys who thrust twice, come, and then need to be reassured for the next three hours they're the best lover the girl's ever known.

"But I'm so darn curious. So I've been checking on-line and there's this sex shop near Athens. Its supposed to be classy and woman-oriented. You and I could go, buy a strap-on, and you could do me. It's perfect, close enough so we get over there in a day but far enough away so we won't run into anyone we know."

Had I gotten to the point where nothing this girl said surprised me? "Katie, I'm not sure."

"C'mon Mom, it'd be fun and you don't want me doin' it with some grubby teenage boy just to satisfy my curiosity, do ya?"

That was an uncomfortable thought. No, I did not want her randomly satisfying her curiosity and yes, it did sound like fun. I'd rather have my daughter spread her legs for me than some stray boy. And, as far as I knew, she wasn't on the pill. I wasn't ready to be a grandparent quite yet.

She could see me weakening. "Another thing, we could dress real sexy, like a couple. You can be like the knowing older woman and I the eager young pupil."

That would be a role reversal, I thought, so far she'd been the knowing one and I the pupil. My first instinct had been to say no, but it was hard to say no to my daughter when she was like this, almost ready to explode with happy enthusiasm. And she was right, it did sound like fun. Considering what had happened so far, what was the big deal?

"Okay, but," I said in an effort to maintain a shred of authority, "we both

wear sunglasses until we know the coast is clear."

And with a squeal and a big happy kiss, Katie let me know she agreed.

* * * *

I looked at my daughter as we pulled into the shop's parking lot. I had rejected her suggestion we go braless, but her tight black tank top left little to the imagination. She was showing plenty of cleavage. Her cut-off shorts also showed plenty of leg. I was wearing a short one piece white tank dress and an understated cross necklace. Neither of us was wearing panties. We had devised a cover story: I was a happily married woman and a friend of Katie's mom. Over several glasses of wine at Katie's house one night Katie and I confessed a mutual attraction and decided to experiment.

The coast was clear and the shop surprisingly feminine and clean. It featured, to my novice eyes, an overwhelming array of neatly arranged ointments, vibrators, dildos, sex videos, lingerie, etc., etc., etc. Katie, her curiosity piqued, immediately wandered off to inspect the merchandise. I was looking around, feeling overwhelmed, when the sales clerk approached.

I started to introduce myself. "Hello, my name is..."

She interrupted me. "If you become a regular, and I hope you will, I'd love to know your name. But from the way you're looking around I assume this is your first visit. Why don't we keep it confidential for the moment."

I'm sure the relief showed on my face. The girl shook my hand, covering it with both her hands. "My name is Becky."

"It's a lovely place, very feminine."

"Thank you. Mama wanted a place where the ladies would feel comfortable. Obviously we can't ban men, but we do our best to cater to women."

The clerk, in fact, appeared to me to be the least feminine thing in it. She was five foot three, had short black hair and spikes though her lips, and was heavily tattooed. She seemed the antithesis of my blonde All-American daughter. Becky had just started pointing out a few items to me when Katie returned, her voice full of undisguised enthusiasm, "Wow, look at all this stuff. We're kinda new at this, can you help us?'

My daughter was playing the novice, an innocent schoolgirl just wanting to learn. Becky flashed a broad winning smile. She was eating it up, and so was I.

"What are you interested in?"

Katie looked at me with bashful eyes. She wanted to hear her Mama ask.

"A dildo," I said. It felt naughty to say it; it also felt nice.

Becky's face flushed and her breathing slowing. She was not used to such direct language from first-time customers. "Anything in particular?"

"I'm not sure. We don't have much experience with these things. Well, to be honest, we don't have any."

Katie stepped close to me. She took my hand in hers and pressed herself against my side. Her eyelids were hooded in a lustful stare. "I'm afraid we're just starting out, kinda exploring. Could you help us?" Her voice was getting husky. This place was turning her on as much as it was me.

Becky licked her lips and then, as if perfectly normal, walked us through the selection of double-headed and strap-on dildos, highlighting their respective advantages and disadvantages. I had always thought that girls with tattoos and spikes were surly, but Becky was engaging and sweet. So much for stereotypes. However, despite Becky's guidance, I still had no idea what to buy. It was Katie who cut the knot. "We'll, take one of each. Which are the best?"

Becky was pointing out her favorites when another woman entered the shop. Becky excused herself and walked up to the girl, kissing her on the cheek.

While she was gone Katie said to me, her voice subdued, "Pick out one the size of Daddy's cock."

I had started to shush her when Becky returned. "Sorry about the interruption, that's my sister and it's shift change. She is going to tend to some paperwork in the back while I finish with you."

We continued shopping, eventually selecting a double-head and strap-on dildo, the former made of jelly and the latter of latex. At Becky's suggestion we also bought a number of

lubricants. As she wrapped them up my daughter asked, "Do you have any advice on how to use them? I never had anything up there before, I mean besides, you know..." She held up her fingers, waggling them for emphasis.

Becky laughed and the three of us left the store together, Becky dispensing advice. I was struck by the connection between the grungy Becky and my blonde daughter. I was also struck my the fact that I was standing in the parking lot of an adult store discussing the proper use of sex toys. My concern about being seen resurfaced.

"Is there anywhere we can continue this conversation in private?"

"Sure," Becky said, "I live right around the corner." She addressed Katie directly. "Why don't you ride with me. Your friend can follow." They were in Becky's truck before I could object and I followed them to Becky's place, a few blocks away.

Becky lived on the second floor of a house. I expected girls with tattoos and spikes to live like pigs; Becky's place was neat and clean, brightly lit by several tall windows and sky lights. We followed Becky to her small kitchen, chatting while she poured us each a glass of surprisingly good red wine. Becky suggested we wash the dildos and then handle them to get used to their feel. Thus, three women were soon standing at the sink giggling and passing among themselves two soapy-slick sex toys. We then moved to a throw rug in the living room and took turns holding the dildos. Katie and Becky quickly got raunchy and silly, putting the things between their breasts, in their mouths, etc. I, under their good-natured influence and helped along by the wine, was not too far behind. I also started contemplating stopping at a hotel on the way home to ravage my daughter; my cunt was pulsating. I didn't think I'd be able to wait until we got home.

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