Is There an Incest Gene?

by Misty Meadow

It's a hot lazy afternoon and the whole United kingdom is baking in an extended heat wave. I'm sitting on my couch, reading a catalogue that came in the post from a lingerie shop in London called Agent Provocateur, my gaze lingering on a picture of a slender teenage model wearingl what the text calls “a saucy scrap of sizzling silk”, a pretty accurate description, as it's little more than a tiny triangle of transparent material and if she didn't have her thighs pressed together, her cunt would be perfectly visible. Ah, well, I suppose they have to maintain standards.

I'm not exactly dowdy myself, though my teens years are behind me. I'm petite, slender and look young for my age, and at this precise moment I'm wearing a white translucent nylon slip that has lace along the bottom and across the top. If I stand, it'll only just cover my bum. Beneath it, my vivid blue satin knickers, also trimmed with white lace, cover my cunt so, sorry, girls, if you want to see it, you'll have to take them off me. It's far too hot to wear any more clothing and I'm even thinking of taking my knickers off even though there's no one here to admire me. I turn the page, looking for knickers that are sexy, yes, but a little more practical. I've lifted my heels on to the seat of the couch so I can prop the catalogue against my thighs. Ah-HA! I see a pair that I like, but alas, they're not on a real model, but displayed on a manequin, because though full cut, they have an inverted triangle in the front which is so transparent it might as well not be there. They look comfortable and might be a very attractive bait in a gay girls' bar if I wear a short skirt. I make a note of the item number so I can buy them on line later.

My daughter Summer comes downstairs, dressed rather more respectably in a white cotton sun dress, bought when she was younger and shorter, and so washed out I can see her knickers through it. Unlike mine, hers are ordinary white cotton, like all little girls should wear, but these day . . . well, don't get me started. She sits opposite me, lifts her heels on to the seat, just like me, and opens her copy of Alice in Wonderland. She reads for a minute or so then looks across at me.

“This book's stupid, Mummy. All the characters do weird stuff and nothing makes sense.”

“I think that's supposed to be the point, but perhaps you're too old now for that book. My Gran gave it to me when I was six, but you're ten next month, so I'll buy you something a bit more adult.” She's still staring at me, specifically up my slip.

“When I sit like that at school, the teachers tell me to put my feet down, keep my knees together and sit up properly like a lady.”

“Well, we're at home and we can sit any way we like.”

“Except for Miss Linton. She never tells me off. I think she has a crush on me because of the way she looks at me.” I've met Leslie Linton at several parents' days. “Lezzy Linton” the girls call her behind her back; she's rumoured to be gay and I confess when I met her, my gaydar did go off. Though our conversations were brief, I got a warm vibe from her and felt a stab of jealousy. How marvelous it'd be to spend my days in a room full of preteen girls though, except for my daughter, few of them wear dresses that one can look up; now it's all jeans and leggings. The thought of Leslie Linton looking up my girl's dress intrigues me, making my cunt tingle.

“What are you reading, Mummy?”

“A lingerie catalogue, lots of sexy undies and stuff.”

“Don't you have enough sexy undies already?” I confess I do; my dresser is stuffed with all sorts of provocative intimate apparel that I've collected over the years. “All I have,” she moans, “are these boring old white cotton knickers.” She spreads her thighs and pulls her dress higher, and though she might think they look boring, to me they're thrilling, not so much in themselves, but in the way she's deliberately showing them off, just as I used to do as a little girl.

“Well, I think you look sexy, Summer, but if you want to go up to my bedroom and pick out a more exciting pair, then help yourself. She drops the book, leaps to her feet and disappears upstairs. A few minutes later she comes back down, still in her dress, her hands behind her back.

“Did you pick out a pair of knickers?”

“No. I was going through them and I found this.” She holds out the object she was hiding. “What is it, Mummy?” Oops!

“My vibrator.”

“What does it do?”

“I'll show you. Sit sideways on the couch with your back against the arm, lean back and lift your knees up. Now let them fall apart.” I take the vibrator, twist the base to turn it on, lean towards her and press it gently to the crotch of her knickers. She gasps.

“Ooh!” she squeaks in surprise. “It's like electricity in my tinkle.”

“You still call it your 'tinkle'?” I ask. “Shouldn't you have a more grown up word for it?”

“Like what?”

“I call mine my 'cunt'. Yes, I know it's a rude word and you shouldn't say it outside this house, but I think 'cunt' has a nice sexy ring to it.”

“My cunt,” she murmurs to herself, trying it out. I take the vibrator away.

“Put it back!” she demands.

“It's better with your knickers off.” She lifts her hips and lets me pull them down her legs and over her feet, then spreads her legs again for me. I gaze at her still unformed cunt, nothing more than a slit and though I've seen it almost daily all nine years of her life, the way she's presenting it to me, inviting me to play with it, sets my pulse racing.

“Press it on my cunt. Oh, this feels so awesome!” Inside, I smile to myself. I press the tip against her briefly, then remove it again.

“If we do this for too long, you kind of get used to it and the thrill wears off. It's best if we do it just a few minutes at a time.”

“Can I do it to you?” Oh my God! My own daughter is asking me to commit a lewd and illegal act and I suppose I should be shocked, but she and I have never had any secrets and she's getting to that age when she'll start asking questions that many parents are too embarrassed to answer, so why not begin her education right now? On reflection, it's the perfect moment.

“You can do anything you like, my darling,” I say, handing her the toy and spreading my legs. She scrambles off the couch on to her knees between my legs and I push down on the seat with my hands, lifting my hips clear so she can pull my knickers off. As I lie sprawled on the couch with my legs splayed, waiting for my daughter to sexually arouse me, I suddenly think about her in a different way, the way my own mother must have thought about me when I was even younger than nine. But more of that later.

I show her where to press the vibrator against my clit, explaining that this particular part of my cunt is the most sensitive part and it loves to be touched, whether by a toy or by fingers, my own or someone else's, then I ask her to push it deep into me.

“Further! Go deeper! Oh, this feels so thrilling. Push it in and out, yes, like that! Oh, my sweet darling, you're making your Mummy feel so good.” She looks up at me, her eyes huge, amazed at how far the toy has gone it.

“Put it in me!” she demands, so I take it from her, position her on the couch and gently push the toy into the slit in her bulging mound. I immediately meet resistance – her hymen is intact, so after a few seconds, I pull it out and put the tip where her clit will one day grow. She shivers with delight, giggling with joy. Then I pop it in my mouth and taste her.

“Yuck!” she says, screwing her face up.

“No, no! Your cunt tastes wonderful.” Just to let her know I mean it, I lean in and plant a kiss on her cunt.

“That's naughty!” she says, smiling.

“We're having a naughty afternoon. Now I want you to come up to my bedroom.”

“Why?”

“You'll see.” I take her by the hand, pull her to her feet and lead her upstairs. I pull a pile of old books from the top shelf of my closet, blow the dust off them and go through them until I find the one I want. It's called Ten Awkward Questions Your Kids Will Ask. “I want you to read this and then if there's anything you don't understand, come and ask me.”

“But I want to do more naughty stuff,” she whines.

“Later, I promise, but before we go any further, there are things you need to know. They're in the book. Now go to your room and start reading it, there's a good girl.” She closes her bedroom door behind her. I go downstairs, pick up my knickers from the floor, press them to my face and inhale the exciting aroma of my sex, then lie back on the couch, and using the vibrator and my fingers, bring myself to a crashing climax.

What have I just done? I've taught my daughter to talk dirty, to use a sex toy, to arouse her own mother and started her along that wonderful road to being a lesbian. In many ways, it's more or less what my own mother did with me when I was nine.

_____________________

It's dinner time before Summer comes downstairs.

“I finished it, Mummy, I read it all, from cover to cover.”

“And did you enjoy it?” I myself had, as a kid, in fact I read it several times.

“I couldn't put it down. Some bits were gross, like penises and stuff; I wouldn't want one of those in my cunt. But the chapter on masturbation was interesting. Best of all was the section on gay sex, not the guy stuff, but all the things that lesbians do with each other. I wanna be a lesbian when I grow up.” My heart is bursting with joy! This is exactly what I hoped would happen. More than anything I want my little girl to be gay; I'm sure we have lots more fun than straight girls.

“Did you read about hymens?”

“Yes. Does it hurt when it breaks?”

“It stings and bleeds a little, but a quick shower and you're back to normal and never have to worry about it again. Once it's popped, you can put anything you want up there painlessly, and I have more toys to show you, but first, let's eat dinner.”

_____________________

After dinner we shower together and I explain carefully what I want her to do and she eagerly agrees. I spread body-wash all over the vibrator and hand her. She slides it an inch or so into herself and looks up at me.

“Whenever you're ready, Summer.” She gives it a push and gasps as it slips deep into her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, it hurt a bit, but not so bad as I thought.” She pulls it out and I see streaks of blood on it. I rinse it under the shower and then let her douche herself. Stepping from the shower, I fold her in a big bath towel and dry her all over. “The pain's gone now, Mummy.”

“From now on, you can play with all sorts of toys and you'll never have to worry about hurting yourself. Let's go downstairs and have a nice long talk.”

_____________________

We're back on the couch, side by side, my arm round her shoulders, her cheek resting on my breast. I'm back in my white see-through slip, but I've put clean knickers on, full cut nylon briefs with a transparent panel in the front and no crotch liner, so my cunt is perfectly visible. Summer is just in her white cotton knickers, looking incredibly fucking cute.

“Remember how devastated I was when your Gran died? She was only forty two and I loved her more than anyone in the world, except for you, and she loved me back in a very special way. From as early as I can remember, she kissed my little cunt every night when she tucked me into bed. I was a lot younger than you are now. Of course, she swore me to secrecy and you're the first person I've ever told. Most people are horrified at the idea of a mother and daughter doing sexual things together; they call it 'incest' and it's illegal, but I know a lot of mothers are sexually attracted to the daughters.”

“How do you know, if no one talks about it?”

“Because of stuff on the internet. A lot of it is fiction, but I like to hang out in a chat room for gay girls and I read all sorts of confessions about mother/daughter sex. Lots of mothers are sexually aroused by their daughters, like I am, and . . .”

“Me? I get you aroused?” She's bewildered. “But I'm too young.”

“Part of it is because you are so young, so innocent, so vulnerable, so trusting. It's not just about you flashing your knickers or showing off your cunt, it's . . . well, it's hard to explain. Most mothers like me suppress their feelings, but some just go right ahead and act out their desires, and I'm amazed that in almost all cases, their daughters enjoy their lovemaking and never have any regrets about it. I also chat with girls who were the ones who started sexual relations with their mothers, often carrying on long into adulthood.”

“So, I'm sexy, Mummy?”

“You're the sexiest little girl in the whole wide world. How's your cunt feeling?” She holds out the front of her knickers and pushes her hand down inside and I peer down, seeing he middle finger go all he way into her.

“It's fine. Doesn't hurt any more.” I wonder if she fingers herself in bed at night.

“Getting back to my Mum. She had very full breasts, much bigger than mine, with large brown nipples and she'd let me suck on them, sometimes for hours at a time. I knew it made her feel good.”

“Can I . . .?” Without finishing the sentence, she slips one of my shoulder straps off and pulls the front of my slip down to exposise my tit. My nipple is already erect from the touch of her cheek and she takes it in her mouth, teasing it with her tongue and then sucks on it, just as she had as a baby, and the result is just as thrilling. I'd loved nursing her when she was a newborn and wished I'd never stopped.

“Yes, that's what I'd do to my Mum, every chance I got, but what I enjoyed much more was between her legs. One afternoon I walked into her bedroom and there she was, lying on her bed, her knees up by her chest, four fingers thrusting in and out of her cunt. I thought she'd be angry, getting caught like that, but she didn't stop. 'Watch me, Misty,' she said and I leaned in close and right away I was hit by the strong aroma of her sex and to this day, the smell of hot cunt has always excited me beyond measure. 'Keep looking! I want you to see me cum!' I watched and listened as she came, gasping and groaning, and afterwards, she explained what an orgasm is, and how amazing it feels and how one day I, too, would have that same joy, whether by my own fingers, or hers. As it turned out, the first time I came was one day when I sat on her face and inhaled the smell of her sex, coming off her like steam from a pot of boiling soup. Can you smell me now?” She lifts her head and sniffs the air.

“That fishy smell?”

“Yes. You'll get used to it and come to associate it with sexual arousal. It's how you'll know your lover is turned on. Anyway, my Mum taught me all sorts of different ways to masturbate and how to do it to her, until one fabulous day, when I was about six, I asked her if I could put my whole hand inside her and she told me she'd been wanting me to do it since forever, and so I fisted her.”

“Fisting's in the book I read. It was one of the more amazing parts.”

“It excited her more than anything I'd done with her up to that point. Another time she asked me to fist her anally, up her bum.” Summer's eyes go big.

“It must've hurt.”

“No, she was already stretched by a variety of sex toys and by her gay lovers, so my little hand didn't hurt her a bit. Of course she'd had a deep triple enema with soapy water so she was nice and clean. Shortly after that, I fisted her cunt and bum both at the same time.”

“Wow, Gran must've been amazing!”

“By the time I was your age, we were doing just about anything you can think off, including golden showers.”

“What's that?”

“Lots of girls like to be peed on. I know it sounds weird, but it's a very intimate, loving way to show total submission. We'd happily pee on each other, on our tits and cunts and faces, and she taught me to love drinking it. That's something you might want to try when you're a bit older. It's an acquired taste.”

“I like to pee through my knickers when I'm outdoors sometimes,” she says, “just because it's naughty.”

“I know. When I take your knickers from the laundry hamper I always sniff them and I know when you've peed through them. You're just like I was. Another thing your Gran would do was to invite me into her bedroom when she was having sex with one of her many gay lovers. They'd watch me undress and flaunt my little cunt for them and if the partner was into little girls, Mum would let her kiss me and finger me, sometimes even lick my cunt. I was always happy to let them do it, as long as it made my Mum happy. That's all I ever wanted. Then I'd watch and learn as they made love, happy to have an audience, a sweet little 'innocent' eight year old seeing them arouse and satisfy each other. Then I'd go to my room and masturbate to the fresh memory of their lovemaking. I'm getting turned on just thinking about it.”

“I can smell you, Mum, much stronger. It smells like my finger when I touch myself in bed.” She slides down my body until she's sitting on the floor. I lift one leg over her so that now she's between them, gazing at my cunt through my sheer knickers. As she reaches up, I lift my hips to let her take them off, just as she had earlier. Once they're out of the way, she pushes my thighs apart and gazes at my dripping cunt. With her fingertips, she pulls my lips apart and stares into my pink cavern, her eyes alight. I hear her inhale deeply, several times, and then her mouth is on me, licking the insides of my lips, her tongue probing my pink folds, and then her mouth is on my clit, sucking it in and out. How does she know to do that? Maybe it was in the book, but I doubt it. More likely, she just instinctively knows what to do. But she doesn't stop there. I feel her fingers push into me, three, then four and I lift my head to look down at her, pulling my slip up round my waist so I can see, as she folds her thumb into her palm and pushes her hand inside me. I'm so wet it slides right in with no effort, and I feel her make a fist.

“Go deeper!” I cry. “Keep pushing until you touch something!” I feel her touch my cervix and a completely new thrill runs through me. “Now, fuck me! In and out! Yeah, like that! Oh, my God, now I know how my Mum felt. I'm in heaven. Keep fucking me, my sweet little angel, I love you so much!” She tears her gaze away from my cunt and looks up at me, adoration mixed with lust on her face.

“Am I doing it right, Mummy?”

“It's . . .” That's the moment when my orgasm lights me up like a star shell, waves of pure love radiating out from my cunt through my whole torso and I feel my fists clench and my toes curl. I lift my knees up beside my chest, my breath coming in short gasps as I look down at my darling sexy little daughter, in her white cotton knickers, and vow that very soon I'll be giving her orgasms that match my own. Summer's thrusts slow down and as I lower my legs, she extracts her fist with a slurping noise that makes her laugh.

“Lick it,” I tell her. “Enjoy the taste of the inside of my cunt. You'll grow to like it.” She licks her forearm and the front and back of her hand.

“I like it already.” My heart swells with love.

“By the way, Sandi is coming over. She'll probably stay the night. She likes you.” Summer's face lights up.

“Cool!” she says. “She's hot!” Summer will have to get her temperatures sorted out.

“I was wondering if . . .?”

“YES!” she cries. Sometimes, she's way ahead of me. “You want Sandi to play with me, don't you?”

“Only if you're willing, my love.” The excitement on her face tells me that willingness is not going to be a problem. “You can always say 'no' to her.”

“Why would I do that?”

Why indeed?

____________________

When Sandi arrives, Summer is wearing my short silk bathrobe, normally belted at the waist, but the belt, used in bondage play at one of my friend's house weeks ago, had been forgotten, so now she finds it necessary to hold the robe closed. I'm still in my slip though I've no idea where my knickers are, probably under the couch. Fuck it, who needs knickers? Sandi is wearing jeans and a loose camisole, selected for the way it offers a look down at her tits. Her eyes light up when she sees Summer, who's seens untypically shy.

“Get those fucking jeans off, Sandi,” I say as soon as she's in the door and we discover she's wearing a pair of lacy tap pants with nice loose legs, so if she sits carelessly, we might get a glimpse of her cunt, and though I'm intimately familiar with it, Summer has never seen it. The knickers go well with the camisole. I fix drinks and we sit in the living room.

“I told Summer all about my Mum,” I announce and Sandi looks hard at me.

“Isn't she a bit young to hear all about that?”

“No, I'm not!” Summer counters defiantly. “I know all about gay sex. Mum's sex adventures with gran sounded awesome!”

“Tell Sandi about everything we did, Summer,” I say, and my daughter launches into a detailed account of our incestuous adventure, her eagerness evident in her voice. She starts with how she found my vibrator and how wonderful it felt when I touched her cunt with it, then how she read the book and learned all about lesbian sex, then recounts how we popped her cherry in the shower and then how she licked my cunt. “Mum let me fist her,” she states, as though it were no big deal. “I had half my arm inside her and it made her cum. I think being fisted must be awesome, but my cunt's way too small. I'm gonna have to wait for a while until it's big enough.”

I pull Summer to her feet, stand behind her, reach round hand spread her robe wide open, displaying her to Sandi, whose eyes are like saucers.

“Isn't she fucking gorgeous?” I say.

“Oh, my God, you're the sexiest little girl I've ever seen, Summer.” I step away and look at her as she shrugs the robe from her shoulders and stands proudly naked, enjoying our gaze.

“Remember how I told you about Mum offering me to her friends,?” I say and Summer nods. “How would you feel if I told Sandi she could do anything she wants to with you?” At that moment, I've never seen my daughter look happier.

“Oh, yes! Yes!” she cries, loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

Sandi looks pretty happy too.

“Okay,” I say, “as long as I get to watch.”

“Can I take you knickers off, Sandi?” Summer pleads.

We're off to a good start.

The end