Sara

Sara did calm down a bit. "Please honey go and put on a robe. For me. Then we can talk. Like adults. I know you are woman now." Sara could not help looking up and down her daughter and seeing a very beautiful woman, who presented herself as innocent but sexy siren. "Please, hon." Shamina knew she had pushed as hard as she could and left to cover up.

Martin watched this exchange as being magical. Sara was being a natural mother without inhibition or artifice talking to her daughter in a revealing semi transparent teddy. He only realized at the end he had slipped his camera into video mode and hoped he had caught at least some of the exchange. He also had difficulty focusing on just Sara. Shamina captured his attention equally. She was younger, of course, and at first glance they looked very similar, but a closer look revealed Shamina's softer skin, smaller but perkier breasts and obviously more prominent nipples. Sara's legs were better defined and her butt was the better of the two.

"Martin. Martin. Earth to Martin. Bet you enjoyed that you dirty old man." Sara was now smiling. "I have a very sexy daughter. Keep you hands off her." Sara slipped the straps off her shoulders and let the top of the teddy fall to her waist. "Martin. I was going to fuck you later. I am horny as it is possible to be. But that is now screwed up. Remember where your allegiances sit. Martin's eyebrows reached his hairline. We'll do this again with no possibility of visitors and with all telephones off or in airport mode. Got that?"

"Got what, Mum?"

"Shamina we have to talk. There are things I have to tell you. Had you not arrived home when you did I was going to screw Martin. Meet Martin. I have some things to explain."

"Mum. I have some things to tell you too. I am far from being a virgin. I enjoy fucking. I can now see I am my mother's daughter. May I suggest you take Martin to the bedroom and fuck his brains out? Here is a condition though." She paused for effect. Her mother was stunned into silence could only raise her eyebrows for Shamina to go on. "I want to model for Martin as well as you. Martin can you use me as a model? Quick answer please."

Martin was equally stunned as Sara. "From what I can see, sure I can use you. You have the same qualities as your mother who is an excellent model."

"Would you use me nude?"

"That's up to you and your mother to work out." Martin was now getting uncomfortable. Just when he thought his cock couldn't get any harder it did.

"I'm twenty and an adult. It's my decision." Shamina slipped off her robe to reveals she had dispensed with the teddy she was wearing before. "Yes or no."

Martin looked at Sara. All she did was to roll her eyes up in her head. Hearing her daughter suggest they go and fuck and seeing her naked notched up her horniness to another level. "Sure."

"That's a yes then. We can work out the details later. Now go and fuck yourselves silly, kids." Shamina turned her naked butt to both of them and went to her own bedroom. Martin reevaluated Shamina's butt and assessed it as good as her mother's.

As soon as Shamina had left Sara was on Martin like a shot kissing him and sticking out her exceptionally long tongue almost down his throat. "Let's move this to my bedroom."

Shamina stripped off her robe and laid it on the top her bed. She flopped naked on top of it. She heard through the thin separating wall Martin and her mother crash into her mother's bedroom. She felt like a passion terrorist having pulled the trigger on their mutual passion. She imagined Martin's cock plunging into her mother's already soaking vagina. She reconstructed the thought with two fingers curled deep into her own cunt. It only took moments to climax.

Every grunt and moan was discernable. She imagined the slurping sound as Martin's hard prick was sucked and teased by her mother's impossibly long tongue. By pinching her nipples hard she felt her mother's arousal as the signals invaded her already stimulated cunt. Shamina came again. Her robe captured the steady discharge of her love juices. Shamina rolled on her stomach and eased into the doggy position. Arching her back upwards and reaching down deeply between her spread legs she pushed her cunt-lubricated index finger into her anus, and worked in and out. She loved the feeling and once more induced another orgasm. Shamina slumped and fell asleep.

By his own hand and with Sara's anxious assistance Martin was soon nude. She had slipped off the teddy long before they reached the bedroom. She threw herself backwards onto the bed and Martin followed closely, and rammed his cock into her in a missionary position. Face to face, they fucked with eyes wide open, as they looked at each other in sheer delight and unencumbered lust. Their first encounter closed, for Martin, several years of complete self-imposed celibate behaviour, but for Sara it was the celebration of the end of a lifetime of bodily servitude and denial.

After their mutually coincidental explosive orgasms, Sara was still high on the fumes of lust. She extricated herself from Martin's tight grasp. Rolled him over and quickly teased his soft cock into the state of readiness she still needed, but she was over anxious and found herself swallowing his ejaculate. As she swallowed it only took one push from her finger on her clit to bring herself up to Martin's level of pleasure.

It was Martin's turn to pounce. Her rolled Sara onto her back once more and latched his mouth to her cunt. His tongue played a fugue on her labia inside and out, he licked, sucked and blew on her large and prominent clit. Sara experienced one long or perhaps a series of closely packed orgasms mounting in strength until she ejaculated over his face and the flowered bed cover. Martin took the love shower as a time to back off. He was once more hard.

Sara took only few moments to recover such were her lust and passion. She scooted over into a doggy position. "From behind big boy. Now!" Martin's deep thrust immediately started Sara's orgasm, which was quickly overtaken by another and another. Sara was a beach with the orgasmic waves breaking over her body with a relentless urgency until she could no longer take it just as Martin came for the third time in the course of less than an hour. Sara collapsed on her stomach with the weight of Martin on her back. After minutes of recovery Martin rolled onto the bed. Sara shuffled up the bed and wriggled under the sheet and blankets. Martin joined the comfort of the warmth and spooned himself behind Sara. They both fell into a comfort sleep.

Shamina woke full of conflicting emotions. The totally unexpected events of the previous evening intrigued and amazed her. She felt empowered by the way she took control of the situation. She knew crossing the threshold of taking authority would stay with her forever. It was as if a door had been not only opened but blown off its hinges. Yet behind all the liberation she felt shame for the way she had treated her mother. Her poor mother. How could she face her?

As she lay in bed contemplating the confrontation that was inevitable, the rhythmic squeak of her mother's bed in the next-door room started. Shamina grabbed her phone and called a friend. No greeting, just, "What you doing today?"

A sleepy voice groaned, "Hi Sha. It's so fucking early. Wassup?"

"Gotta get out of here. Now. Can I come over sweet fuck buddy of mine? Promise to screw your brains out. One time offer before I call Brian. You have thirty seconds. Decide. Sleep all day pulling your slong, or have a nice home for it rest in? Twenty. My tits are all puffy and ready. Ten."

"Come over. Come. Get it."

"Infantile moron. On my way. See you in about thirty, to get dirty."

Shamina was dressed and on her way, but not before leaving a note to her mother on the shopping list pad. "Out today. See you tomorrow morning. Chat then."

Sara woke with the weight of Martin on her and his cock beginning its penetration of her pussy. She was still lubricated from her previous nights action. They fucked. It lasted quite a while, and Sara was disappointed that her libido was low and Martin's somewhat perfunctory penetration did not produced any pleasure for her. Martin came, shrank and withdrew.

"Where's the bathroom?" Martin stood scratching his balls.

"Second on the left. Put a robe on -behind the door - Shamina may see you." Martin shrugged and did as he was asked, but quite like the idea of seeing Shamina whilst nude. Maybe she'd like his equipment, even relaxed.

Sara rolled out of bed and headed to the kitchen to make coffee. There she immediately saw the note and read it with a profound sense of relief. She was not keen to have the difficult conversation about her father with Shamina. Sara suddenly thought that she and Martin had the place to themselves. The combination of the delay of The Talk and being alone with Martin relight her libido to produce a nice buzz in her pussy. She took the strong coffee, along with some day-old croissants, butter and strawberry jam to the bedroom on a tray.

After eating, Sara attacked Martin with her tongue and induced his second ejaculation of the morning. The shower was of the type that flowed into the bath. There was no sensible way for the two of them to shower together without risk of injury. Martin followed after Sara had thoroughly cleaned herself up.

"Oh-my-God. I have to be across town for a meeting with the catalogue people in half an hour. I have to go." Martin scrambled to find his phone and called out," I'm running late. A puncture you know. Murphy's law. I'll be there in about forty five, See you soon."

The semi-aroused Sara suddenly felt as if she had been punctured. A sense of deflation overwhelmed her as Martin left in a hurry giving Sara a careless kiss on the cheek and called out "I'll call you later."

Sara pulled on a thick warm nightie. She lay on the bed feeling abandoned. Tears welled in her eyes. As she began to relax her disappointment at her own behavior turned to guilt. A lifetime of obedience had conditioned her not break out of the mold she had been born into. Yet she had the previous evening. Part of her wanted to celebrate her freedom, but the bonds created by her history bit into her soul. Sara was deeply conflicted. The emotions that churned through her whole being slowly abated and Sara drifted into a deep sleep. She woke mid afternoon with a blistering headache. She took three Tylenol and fell asleep again. She woke at eight the following morning.

Shamina crept in shortly after midnight. She was relieved as she peeked in on her mother to see her deeply asleep.

Sara was already awake when Shamina knocked politely on the door and entered with a freshly brewed coffee.

"Here you go. Shall we talk after we've hydrated."? Shamina nodded at the coffees. They sipped their hot drinks in silence.

"Let me start," Sara started, speaking slowly. She paused as she collected and organized her thoughts. "You know your father and I Skyped regularly. One day he got up and started dancing. He moved the angle of the camera and I could see his bed. There was bra hanging on it. I didn't have to be a brain surgeon to see what that meant. He had a girlfriend. I decided that if he has taken his freedom I was going to have mine. It's a simple as that. It's been over two years since I was with your Dad. I get horny. I do not like to masturbate. Opportunity presented itself and I took it. Well, you pushed me somewhat, but I was ready to go. That's all of it."

"Oh, Mum. You are so naïve."

"Naïve. What do you mean?"

"Mum. Dad had girlfriends for at least the last six years. Do you remember when I was school we used to be bussed over to a dance studio around lunchtime. One day I saw dad as we passed. So I looked for him on other days. I then began to realize that I saw the same woman walking a few paces behind every time. It was strange. So in the holidays I told you I was going to a friend's house. I met my friend and we went over at lunch hour to where I used to see dad from the bus. There he was with the trailing woman, who we could now see was tall and quite elegant. We followed them. They cut down a couple of side alleys and then went into the Pink Lotus Hotel."

"We repeated the tracking three times that week. The same the next week, and hung around until he came out an hour later. We saw him kiss the woman goodbye. The week after that I only went for one day. Things were nearly the same. Dad walking with a woman following, only this week was a different woman."

Shamina nodded, "Another coffee?" Sara agreed. She was puzzled and wracked her brains as to whether she had detected any clues. A perfume on the dirty washing? She could think of nothing amiss.

When she returned with the fresh coffees, Shamina asked, "You OK?"

"Yep. Just processing what you said. You're sure about what you saw?"

"Oh yea, Mum. It gets worse. Much worse. Buckle up. I am sure dad continued his nooners, but the bus changed routes so I didn't see him any more. Then I learned from one of the girls at school that her unmarried elder sister was pregnant. There was a lot of speculation, and it came out that the girl knew Dad. Then the rumors started. The girl at school became very nasty to me."

"That was the time that dad started to talk about being an atheist. Maybe he was, maybe he isn't. I know I saw him talking to the Imam several times. Maybe he was talking about his faith, the only problem is that the Imam was often connected to the Taliban. Anyway the threats and damage started. The incidents were blamed on the atheist connection, but I recognized the guy who bashed our car as the brother of the woman who was pregnant. Dad invented the atheist angle to cover for the problems he had with the family of the pregnant woman."

"Do you know this for certain?" Sara could not believe what she was being told.

"Yes. The girl at school found out and told me in no uncertain terms. To try to clear dad I gave them one of dad's toothbrushes. They did a DNA test and it just confirmed that dad was the father."

"Why didn't you tell me? You should have."

"Mum you were in no state to handle it. Really." Shamina rubbed her mother's hand.

Sara sat up in bed. "So we came to Canada under false pretenses. I could go back I guess. We could," she smiled with a sudden note of optimism in her voice.

"No Mum, You're not thinking clearly. The woman died in childbirth and the woman's family blames us all."

Shamina looked grim. "Mom, It gets worse."

"You know I went to South Africa for that holiday. What I didn't tell you was that dad has a wife there."

"He what?" Sara screamed. "He has a second wife?" She gave a plaintive heavy breath. She had a distant look in her eyes. "No. No. No."

"Mum. OK. All in. There's one other thing you should know. Dad has a baby boy. He's just over one now."

Tears welled in Sara's eyes. The bastard. Two miscarriages and an abortion of a little girl. Sterility. Just for a boy. Oh my dear God. Sara was wracked with sobs. Shamina held her, and cried as well. They cried themselves to sleep together in each other's arms.

Sara was up, showered and dressed before Shamina woke. Sara was surprisingly bright. Sleep had brought resolve and a sea change in the way she approached living.

She looked at Shamina and announced, "We now know where we stand. Any guilt I once had is gone. I will enjoy my freedom not because Ahmed said I should or even could but because it's my birthright. I do not intend to look back. I now truly own my life. You must feel this too, Shamina. Be your own person." Shamina already was. Sara was simply catching up with her. Shamina climbed out of bed, hugged her mother and then kissed her on her lips pushing her tongue into her mouth. Sara reciprocated.

"Oh, mum. I'd forgotten how long your tongue is. I've never found a guy with such an asset as yours." They both burst out laughing.

Shamina woke at seven, showered and kissed her mother before departing to catch her nine o'clock, much loathed, Monday morning class. Sara, on the other hand, luxuriated in the warm bed. She cursed Ahmed in her head and then out loud. Sara quickly saw there was nothing to be gained in moping about because there was nothing she could change. She would ignore the reality of the situation, and get on with her own life without a backward glance at Ahmed. She planned her week. Ceramic work and the gym. Sara had noticed she was developing love handles and needed to work on them more vigorously.

Sara's work took a new direction. Some people looking at her work might have seen the slight impression of vaginas in the subtle new folds she introduced into her work. The other women at the studio, who she had come to know through conversations during breaks, soon started to remark on her new direction. They noted the sensuality and one called them sexy, with a twinkle in her eye.

On Wednesday morning Sara realized she had heard nothing from Martin. She was tempted to call him, but was concerned he would think her rude. When she arrived home in the evening a UPS package was in her mail slot. It was the photos of her pieces, some of the lingerie shots and a thumb drive with all the shots. There was no note with them. What she did not know, and could not know, was that Martin had consciously decided to make Sara come to him, to put him in the superior position. He wanted her to see him as her savior.

Sara, for her part, felt she had paid for the ceramic shots. Yet she wanted him again, not for payment but to fulfill her own needs that had been awakened. By Friday evening she still had heard nothing from Martin. She was feeling frustrated and a touch annoyed. Rather than confront Martin she chose to send an email to Ahmed. She told him that she knew about his women, and the pregnant girl and about his wife in South Africa. She was on a roll as she further informed him she wanted nothing to do with him adding she would like a divorce. She also considered sending him one of the risqué photos to show him what he was missing, but held off doing so. She hit send. Moments later she considered that perhaps she'd made a mistake.

When she checked her e-mail an hour or so later she saw she had received a reply. Her name was formally addressed on the e-mail. She saw it was copied to two names she did not recognize at all. All the e-mail said was," I divorce you. I divorce you. I divorce you." Ahmed signed it with his full signature. Sara realized that Ahmed, the atheist, had used a formal Sharia law approach and had in his eyes and the eyes of many religious people actually divorced her. Sara laughed. "That was easy." The trouble was that she still felt married to Ahmed, at a core level.

She needed distraction, so Sara phoned Martin. He saw Sara's name and was tempted to let the call go to his inbox, but relented at the last moment. "Sara how are you?"

'Fine, thank you, Martin. I was calling to let you know I have the photos. They look fine. As usual, you did great job."

"With the pots?"

"Oh Martin. With everything of course." Sara hinted. "Perhaps we should arrange for another photographic session. I'm working on a new line of pots, but they won't be ready for a few weeks. Do you have any modeling jobs coming up?"

Martin's mind went into high gear. He wasn't sure he could pull it together but threw the idea of another lingerie shoot.

"But its one of those doubles jobs. It will be with two models. Would you be prepared to work with another model?"

"Maybe. Would she be a professional? Am I up to standard to work with a pro?"

"Hey. Who said it would be a woman?" He paused for a second. "Just kidding. Of course you are up to standard. Why do you worry about such things?" At the same time Martin was pleased that Sara was deferring to him. "Mmmmm."