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Nifty - Lesbian - Incest - Family Ties

 
Date: Mon, 2 Jun 2008 18:43:26 +0000
From: bradley stoke <bradley_stoke@hotmail.com>
Subject: "Family Ties" by Bradley Stoke

The girl with the ring through her eyebrow hadn't yet put back on her
clothes and was standing naked in the kitchen, her head tilted back as
she took a long swig of the bottled water she had found in the fridge.
Maxine, wearing only a bath robe open at the front, stood by the
kitchen door and smiled. She wandered over to the girl, so slim and
sensuous, her body still a little clammy after their early morning sex,
and placed an arm over each shoulder, lowered the girl's head and
kissed her on the forehead. The girl took the cue, set down the bottle
and expectantly raised her lips up to Maxine's mouth: slightly open
and her breath a touch short. Maxine plunged her tongue deep into the
girl's mouth, skimmed her teeth over the sharp incisors and encircled
the tongue around and around her own, the drool of shared saliva
bubbling up and spilling out of the corner of their conjoined mouths.

Maxine gently pushed her face off the girl's. Christ! Her jaw ached,
but then kissing wasn't the only amorous activity she and this girl had
been practising through the long morning and into the (yes! It was!) the
early afternoon. Her jaw was as totally fucked as the rest of her.

She idly ran her fingers down the girl's chest and squeezed the erect
button-like nipple in her fingers and twiddled it, her other arm still
around the girl's neck.

"So, what did you say your name was?" she asked.

Maxine didn't get to hear because suddenly she heard the phone ring.
Fuck! Who could that be? She was contemplating leaving the phone
be, but she thought better of it. Saturday night was on the way, and
there might be plans to make, friends to meet, more women to fuck.
She slithered out of the girl's arms, her bathrobe slipping down one
shoulder and the whole of a rounded, aroused breast on show, glided
across the kitchen tiles and picked up the cordless phone.

"Yes. Who is it?"

"Is Misty there? It's her mother."

"Misty's Mum?"

"Yes, is she there?"

Maxine sighed. Misty wouldn't be well pleased. She could hear her
gasps of coital pleasure coming from the other bedroom where she was
with the bloke she'd picked up, while Maxine had, as usual, got the
girl. What was the bloke's name? Mike? Mark? Fuck knows. She
didn't even know the name of the really gorgeous, if rather short, girl
she'd been getting to know in the most intimate way possible all night
long.

"She's here, but she's busy!"

"She can't be that busy not to talk to her mother. I'd really like to talk
to her now if I can."

Maxine had never met Misty's Mum, but she'd spoken to her often
enough on the phone to know that she wasn't a woman who could be
easily fobbed off. She also knew that there was some kind of messy
divorce going on with Misty's father, whom her best friend had never
been that close to, and that Misty would probably be quite annoyed not
to have got the call.

"Okay, Mrs Milton. I'll take you to Misty."

Maxine pushed open the door to Misty's room, the one the two girls
often shared during the week, and felt that usual pang of disgust and
slight jealousy when she saw that Misty was being fucked. She was
naked and perpendicular to the bed and, also naked, Mike's (or
Mark's) recumbent body lying on his back, his penis erect and firmly
sheathed within Misty's wide-open and gushing vagina. Misty was
pumping steadily up and down, like a sensuous piston-engine, the
shininess of her vaginal juices and all the semen sparkling in the early
afternoon sun as it shone through the curtained window. She was
grunting softly, but paused in her thrusts when she saw Maxine proffer
her the phone.

"Who is it?" she hissed. "You can see I'm busy!"

"It's your Mum!" said Maxine, handing over the phone hastily and
standing by the door, unsure whether to stay for the handset or to leave
and return to unfinished business with the girl in the kitchen.

Misty put a finger to her lips to tell the man beneath her not to make a
sound and still moving slowly up and down, up and down, on the erect
penis, she placed the phone under her dyed blonde shoulder-length hair
and supported her other hand on her upper thigh.

"Yeah Mum?"

Misty frowned.

"You what? You can't be serious? When?"

Her eyebrows raised up her unfurrowed brow, while she adjusted the
penis still inside her and grunted assent to what was being said. "Yeah
. Hmm . Yes . Are you sure? . Yeah. OK! . I guess you'll
have to . Tomorrow? Bit soon, isn't it? . Hmm! Yes. OK! Bye
Mum! ."

It looked like Misty was about to return the phone to Maxine, so her
friend leaned over the bed for it, an elbow indenting the sheet near a
masculine thigh she was glad Misty was getting to know rather than
her.

"Yeah! Yeah! Bye Mum!"

She clicked the button on the phone and handed it back to Maxine.

"It's only my fucking Mum! She's coming down to stay with us.
Apparently, there's too much shit for her to stay at home. My Dad's
being a right fucking bastard about the settlement. The cunt! I hate
him."

Maxine took the phone and stood back off the bed while Misty eased
her bosom down onto the man's black-haired chest, his pubic hairs
tangling amongst the trim and tidy hairs of Misty's crotch, while the
couple returned again to the rhythm of their thrusts with a more
passionate, insistent tempo.

"When's she coming? Not too soon?"

"Yes! Yes!" gasped Misty, partly to Maxine and partly to Mike (or
Mark). "Wednesday, I think. Maybe, yes! Maybe, uhh! Yes! Thursday
perhaps. Yes! Fuck me! Fuck me!"

Maxine could see that Misty had got a little excited from the kinkiness
of chatting with her mother whilst being fucked at the same time. That
was almost the thing she liked most about her best friend and her most
frequent lover, that there was just no event she couldn't twist to its best
erotic advantage. If it hadn't meant clambering past a body jerking and
thrusting under Misty's own vigorous reciprocal thrusts, she'd have
leaned over and kissed Misty out of sheer love. And probably would
have done so had Misty only brought home a woman instead of a man.

Maxine eased close the door and carried the phone back to the kitchen.
At least, Maxine's Mum wasn't the sort to spend too long chatting on
the phone. With any luck, the girl with the little silver ring above her
eye would still be in the kitchen and still naked. Maxine felt like
having a little more fun before the day got properly under way.

Misty's mother was a tall, thin woman in her forties, who dressed
smartly and bore some considerable resemblance to her daughter.
Maxine could see the similarities in the slightly pointed nose, the
arched eyebrows, the long serpentine neck, and, most of all, in the
angular sharpness of her knees, which she kept stockinged but clearly
visible below the hem of her Nichole Farrhi business skirt. Maxine
agreed to spend every night in Misty's bedroom for the duration of her
mother's stay, something which wasn't too much problem most nights,
but might be a problem if Misty brought back a male lover. She didn't
want a repetition of the time with that ghastly man with the fat cock
who thought that just because he was in bed with two women, he had
two vaginas he could penetrate.

"You sure you don't mind sharing with my daughter?" wondered Mrs
Milton.

Maxine shook her head. "I don't mind at all. I just hope you find my
bed comfortable."

"I'm sure I will. And it will be strange indeed to be sleeping in a
bedroom surrounded by so many pictures of naked women."

Maxine blushed. It was obvious to her that Misty's mother had either
already known or had just astutely guessed what her main interests
were. "As long as you're comfortable," she repeated. "That's the main
thing."

"And that you don't get bored, Mum," Misty commented, leaning
against the kitchen sink, a cigarette in one hand and wearing the quite
severe business suit which she'd worn in the office all day. So much
smarter than Maxine herself, but then there was no need to dress
stylishly in the software consultancy where she worked. "It's going to
be bloody boring being here all day."

"There's plenty to do in the city, dear. And it's a bloody relief just to
get away from all that shit with your bloody father. He drives me
spare! And, if you don't mind, you couldn't offer me a cigarette would
you?"

Misty opened the cigarette packet that was sticking out of her Prada
handbag and handed it to her mother. "I didn't know you smoked,
Mum."

"I don't. Well, I haven't since you were a little girl. But my nerves!
They're bloody torn to pieces!"

It wasn't that easy for Maxine to accommodate her life around Misty's
mother. Maxine's evenings were now compromised by having to
watch television programs that appealed to such an older woman.
Maxine didn't know before that there were so many drama
programmes on the set. And she was more than a little bored by the
soap operas which featured people she'd never heard of before and the
permutations of their complex lives of which she rather wished she'd
remained ignorant.

Thankfully, Misty's mother didn't take up smoking with quite her
daughter's enthusiasm; otherwise life would have become truly
unbearable. But it was a relief at the end of the day when Mrs Milton
finally returned to her bedroom. Then, Maxine and Misty could
themselves retreat to Misty's bed, in a room rather cluttered now that
all Maxine's clothes and possessions were crammed together with
Misty's own. Maxine was somewhat shy now of going into her own
bedroom whilst there was the risk of meeting Mrs Milton.

She wasn't sure why she was so shy. After all, it was her room. The
two girls had only chosen to share Misty's bedroom because it was the
larger of the two. But she somehow didn't want such an older woman,
and her best friend's mother at that, seeing her undressed or naked.
And she was quite shy about making love with only the thickness of
the walls between the woman who was the object of her passion and
the mother of that woman. Not that this is in any way inhibited Misty,
who was exactly the same as ever in how vocal she was in her
lovemaking, unrestrained in the thrashing of her limbs and adventurous
in the extent to which she would push the limits of their mutual sexual
gratification.

"So, what do you think of my Mum?" asked Misty after a few days.

Maxine sighed. "I'll be pleased when she's gone and we can return to
normal life again. And I can have my own room to myself."

"Don't you like sharing with me?" teased Misty, squeezing her lover's
clitoris between her fingers.

"It's not that. Not that at all," Maxine sighed, surrendering herself once
again to pleasure.

"But what do you think of my Mum?" insisted Misty. "As a person?"

Maxine thought she was almost an older version of her daughter. And
it wasn't just the family resemblance. They were both women who
knew what they wanted and knew how to get it. And she was sure that
Misty's mother, when she was at work, which she used to do in the
business she had once co-owned with Misty's father, was just as
aggressive in a business suit as she knew Misty to be. But she loved
Misty all the same despite, and perhaps because of, her self-
assuredness and self-confidence. Perhaps if she loved Misty she should
also love her mother.

"She's okay. Very nice. What about you? Do you still think as highly
of your mother now you're seeing so much more of her?"

This was partly intended to remind Misty of her past eulogising on her
mother, who over the distance of a few miles had taken on some kind
of mythical quality.

"In fact I like her more, I think," Misty replied with a nod. "She's
pretty clued up. On the ball. Age hasn't blunted her at all. And, you
know, she's not bad looking either for a woman who must be, let's
think, not too many years off fifty. Her tits haven't sagged and she's
got a pretty cute bum."

Maxine was slightly startled. She would never dream of saying
anything like that about her mother. Not that her mother wasn't an
attractive woman, she was sure, but she just never thought of her as
anything other than as a mother. But she clearly didn't cut quite the
figure as did Mrs Milton. Her clothes weren't nearly as expensive and
her face had a slightly tired and sometimes timid expression. Not the
hard determined look on Mrs Milton's face. Or on her daughter's.

"I think we can take her out with us this Friday night. She'll be okay,
don't you think."

"Friday night? How would someone as old as her get on with the clubs
and bars? She'd just complain about the noise and the booze and the
drugs and everything. And what if we pick someone up? What'd
happen then?"

"Oh. Don't fuss so, Max. You don't think she didn't have much the
same kind of time when she was our age? Well, before she married
that bastard of a cunt of a husband as my fucking father, that is."

Maxine sighed. But she knew that if Misty had decided on a course of
action then that's exactly what would happen.

And indeed it did. Misty's mother seemed absolutely delighted to be
invited out and took the opportunity of the invitation to reveal a stash
of coke she'd somehow got ages ago. And not bad stuff either, as
Maxine could soon testify. And if she was worried about hanging
around with young people, all young enough to be her own children,
she didn't hint at it. But she made no effort to dress any differently to
how a woman of her age might dress for a luncheon party or a sorority
ball. Nor did Misty dress any different to how she did normally.
Expensive, sexy and revealing. As Misty often commented, only those
who could most afford expensive clothes could afford to show the
most flesh. Maxine was slightly less provocative, rather less back and
thigh showing, but obvious to everyone that she was a girl out for a
good time, and who bloody well knew how to get it.

The bars and clubs that evening were as confusing as ever: a confusion
exacerbated by a few choice lines and some vodka. There were Misty's
and Maxine's weekend friends, loads of them, filling the bar they
usually went to on a Friday or Saturday night, the lights glaring and
flashing from all directions, smoke drifting over their heads, and the
music booming out loud and steady from the huge speakers hoisted up
on the walls. Maxine wondered what Mrs Milton would make of all
this. She couldn't imagine her back in her suburban home listening to
hard house or drum and bass. And she worried what she'd make of
people like Georgina, whose nipple was already sticking out of that
slim top, even though her breasts were actually quite small if anything.
And what about the language? Maxine's own mother would have been
rather upset by that. Especially when Julia started going on about
tribadism, flat-fucking and fisting.

But Maxine became aware that Misty's mother was one who quite
enjoyed swearing herself. She relaxed when she heard Mrs Milton
comment that she'd sometimes felt like 'fucking Jane Horrocks'
herself if the girl would let her. And she relaxed even more when she
referred to Condoleeza Rice as a 'cunt' and Gordon Brown as a 'fuck-
faced shit'.

The evening drifted onwards, from one bar to another, just as loud and
twice as shitfaced, and finally, with the witching hour approaching,
onto the clubs, which were just about heaving and ready to roll. Of
course, they couldn't get anywhere really decent without queuing for
hours, but even for a modest club they still had to stand for more than a
quarter of an hour in the chilly night air, in woefully thin clothes, as the
queue slowly wound its way in through the door and past the massive
bouncers, one black and one white, that guarded the premises and
occasionally frisked the odd suspicious looking punter.

As Maxine shivered next to Misty and her mother, she could see that
the two of them were pretty thick in conversation: giggling and
cackling and sometimes exploding into gales of hooting laughter. She
was pleased to a certain extent, because it meant she could concentrate
her attention on Sarah, a Scottish girl she'd not met before and who
had ever such a pretty face. However, it didn't stop her regarding
mother and daughter with envy. Maxine had never been as close as that
to her mother. In fact, since she'd come out about her preference for
women rather than men, her mother had become even more distant
from her. And she wasn't sure that Misty mightn't actually be closer to
her mother than she was to even Maxine herself. But Maxine reminded
herself that it was good to see mother and daughter so close. It must be
a comfort to Mrs Milton with all that divorce shit going on. And, of
course, the thing about the business she'd built up with Misty's father
having to be divided between them as well.

Once inside the club, things were going very well indeed for her with
Sarah. What a darling accent she had! These Scots! Especially the ones
from Edinburgh. Such precise, distinct vowels. Those thrilling trilling
'r's. It wasn't long until Maxine surrendered to her passion,
recognising that the little glint in Sarah's eyes wasn't brought on by E
or blow or crystals or even alcopops. Her lips collided with Sarah's,
the mouth opened just a little bit, and their tongues slid together,
twirled around each other and their jaws ached as their mouths locked
in place. It was all Maxine could do to keep her hands off Sarah's
sweet, but rather large bosom. And she was sure that if she could just
get a hand inside those tight little shorts, she'd find a vagina as messily
liquid and gushing as her own.

Maxine could hardly hear the music, even though it was inescapable. It
was the usual stuff, of course, pounding and grinding and pumping,
just as she would be later with Sarah. But where would that be? Not at
home with Misty's mother around. She detached her lips from Sarah's
and looked about her. Where were Misty and her mother?

"Anything wrong?" asked Sarah with jealous alarm.

"Nothing. Just looking for Misty. You know. My mate."

"The one with her mum in tow?"

"Yeah! That's right!"

"That's them dancing over there!"

"Fuck!" swore Maxine. "You're right. Christ! She's game for such an
old bint, isn't she? You'd never thought she'd get down to stuff like
this."

"It's kicking stuff though!" Sarah laughed. "This DJ really knows how
to cane them!"

"I guess so," remarked Maxine, who preferred to listen to rather more
tranquil music at home.

As the night progressed, and things continued to go pretty well with
Sarah, Maxine often caught glimpses of Misty and her mother together.
It was always just the two of them. The rest of their crowd was just
elsewhere, mingled and absorbed in the bigger mass of dancers and
drinkers, though Maxine thought that Misty might have tried going
after a boy or a girl or something. Wouldn't it just cramp her style
being with her mum like that? Fuck it! She was gonna have her fun,
even if Misty wasn't going to.

"Hey! Misty sweetest!" Maxine yelled in Misty's ear, an arm still
round Sarah's waist, so bare and warm.

"Yeah! Wassat?"

"I'm just leaving with Sarah here. We're off to stay at her place. She
only lives a five mile cab ride away."

Misty's mother was sitting very close to her daughter. In fact, Maxine
could see that her arm was right round her daughter's shoulder and that
Misty had her arm around her mother's waist. Maxine quite envied
Misty for her easy tactile intimacy with her mother, though she was
sure that alcohol made the family ties seem stronger.

"Sarah inviting you back for coffee?" Misty's mother asked with a
slight slur.

Misty smiled at her mother indulgently. "Shit, Mum! You know it's
not a coffee that Max's going back for. Is it, Max dear?"

Maxine blushed slightly, even though it was fairly obvious that her
intimacy with Sarah wasn't of the most innocent kind. "Errmm."

Misty laughed. "Max's going back for a fuck, aren't you? Isn't that
right, Sarah sweetheart? That's what you and Max are gonna do?"

"I should fucking hope so!" laughed Sarah, pressing her tongue and
mouth to Maxine's, to her slight embarrassment in front of Misty's
mother, who, however, would have had to have been both deaf and
blind never to have suspected that her daughter enjoyed intimate
relations with Maxine.

"Well! Good luck, dear!" smiled Mrs Milton. "I hope you enjoy
yourselves!"

"And give Sarah a good fuck for me!" laughed Misty, pressing her lips
on Maxine's cheek.

Sarah was just as good as Maxine expected, although the passion sort
of ran out after only an hour or so, and the two were slumped naked on
Sarah's bed, with the sound of a train rumbling through the distance.
Maxine regarded her lover more dispassionately. Her face was as sweet
as ever, but she did have a furry birthmark on her thigh that was a little
off-putting. And her ears were a funny shrivelled shape. And she was
ever so short. Just like the girl with the ring in her eyebrow. And
although not plump exactly, nowhere near as slim as darling Misty.

As so often happened when Maxine had made love with another
woman she compared her recent conquest with Misty. Invariably, it
was Misty who came out best from the comparison. Maxine truly loved
Misty. She knew that. And at the moment, her heart was yearning for
her best friend. She could imagine her sleeping alone in her bed. Only
a vibrator or two to keep her company. She was so selfless letting
Maxine go off and have fun with another woman while she stayed at
home alone with only the company of her mother and perhaps some
more blow.

And then Maxine resolved to return home early. Although she'd
normally have spent many more hours with Sarah, who was, after all,
quite a pretty girl, she thought she'd leave in good time, to get home
before Misty was out of bed. And then she would make up to Misty for
spending time apart from her that evening. And the two of them would
make that mad passionate love they enjoyed so much. And she would
tell Misty how much she loved her. And how she really didn't mind
sharing the same bedroom with her, as long as they could also share
the bed together.

Sarah was a little distraught when Maxine left. "Please tell me you'll
see me again," she pleaded at the door, while letting Maxine out into
the Saturday morning street. "You've got my number, haven't you?
Please call."

"I will!" promised Maxine firmly, intending to do no such thing, and
then striding off, following Sarah's direction, to the nearest
underground station. She blew Sarah a kiss as she rounded the street
corner, preserving in her memory what she was sure would be her last
sight of the girl she'd just been making love to, seeming somehow
small in her bathrobe at the door of the extremely ordinary city house.

The leisurely crawl of a weekend morning followed her home, still
wearing her evening outfit, hidden as best she could under her jacket
and ignoring the lascivious stares of the men on the train. Although she
quite enjoyed attracting their attention, she was terrified that they
might think she had any interest, of any kind whatsoever, in them. And
soon along more familiar streets, counting off the houses, as she came
at last in sight of the house that contained the flat she shared with
Misty.

She cautiously pushed open the door to the flat. She didn't want to
wake up Misty's mother. Indeed, she didn't really want to arouse
Misty. What she wanted to do was surprise her. To jump on the bed,
pull off her clothes, say "Surprise!" in a seductive voice and for the
two of them to then start making love together. Wouldn't that thrill
Misty? And what better surprise could there be for a lover who had
spent the night alone?

Maxine might have heard a kind of groaning, gasping noise before she
pushed open the door to Misty's bedroom. If she had, she'd probably
have dismissed it as sounds somehow leaking in from a neighbouring
flat. She hadn't expected, however, to find two bodies on the bed she
shared with Misty. Two naked female bodies at that. Entwined in a
tangle of limbs and grinding groins. Clearly and unambiguously
making love.

At first, Maxine thought it might have been a woman that Misty had
met at the club. She was famous for her fast work. Maxine
remembered that girl Misty had picked up at the bus stop that evening.
One moment, she was just another stranger waiting for a bus. The next,
Misty and she were pressed against each other in a wild passion that
rather frightened Maxine at the time. But no! It wasn't someone Misty
had just met. And her breasts were not the firm ones of a young girl,
but those of an older woman. One old enough to be Misty's mother.

"Misty!" Maxine shouted in alarm. "It's your mother you're fucking
with! You're fucking with your mother!"

Misty and her mother stopped abruptly, a dampness clinging to their
chest where they'd perspired against each other and a different
dampness around the crotch and at the top of the inside thighs.

"Max! What the fuck?" Misty cried.

"You're fucking your Mum!" sobbed Maxine, already slightly
regretting the hysteria that had crept into her voice.

"So?"

"It's your Mum?"

"I know. And I've been enjoying every moment of it. Haven't we,
Mum?"

"Yes, we have, dear," said Mrs Milton with an indulgent smile, her
arms around her daughter and her free hand stroking sensuously about
the part of the crotch Maxine was sure no mother should touch so
intimately.

"In fact, we should have done this earlier, shouldn't we, Mum?"

"Well, not when you were young, sweetest. That would have just been
plain wrong!" laughed her mother.

Maxine stood there in front of Misty and her mother, feeling more like
an intruder into her lover's privacy than she'd ever felt before.

"What about me?" she couldn't help asking, her voice feeling weak
and a cloud of disappointment engulfing her.

"Well, you've said you wanted to have your own room back, Max,"
remarked Misty. "There's nothing stopping you from having it back
now!"


 
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Nifty - Lesbian - Incest - Family Ties