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Introduction:

A girl, her mother and her girlfriend share a conversation
Chapter 1

I never thought that something like this would even happen. I mean – there are some cheesy, unbelievable romance novels and sitcoms that have some pretty “wacky” situations. But I have never actually heard of or seen anything like the situation I am in right now.

I don’t know where to start. So I’ll just start from where my head is at right now.

“Aww, Liny, you know you can tell me anything.” my mother said, after a long minute of silence.
I had told her that I wanted to tell her something important. But then completely lost all ability to say anything at all.
“I know.” I replied. “But you say that because you assume that I would never say something you disapprove of.”
She laughed in a disquieting sort of way.
“Since your sixteenth birthday you’ve more or less stopped looking for my approval. Why start now?”
“Because this is important.”
“For heaven’s sake girl, if you don’t tell me then I’ll assume you’re pregnant and send you off to live with your grandfather.” mom said in exasperation. She wasn’t a very patient person. Maybe ironic for a radiologist – since she sees patients every day, but still.

“Ok. Mom. You know Sveta? Svetlana, a girl that I go to uni with?”
“Sure. The girl with the Russian name but the Arabic parents.” mom said, frowning in an effort to remember. “I think you said at some point that she was a hacker or something?”
“No. No, she studies programing. Programing students and digital art students work together a lot at school, that’s how we met.”
“But isn’t programing hacking?” mom asked, trying to remember what she saw on the news that one time about that one hacker.
“Don’t worry about it. She’s not a hacker, trust me.” I said, somewhat impatiently. I was not going to go down the rabbit hole of explaining technological terminology to mom right now.
“So what about her?”
“Well. This april she had asked me to join her for a hike. It was pretty lengthy, we walked twenty kilometers in murderous heat. When we came home, we decided to take a shower and watch some movies.”

I stopped there, thinking about how to proceed. But mom didn’t really let me formulate a proper train of thought.
“Oh. So you had Netflix and chill?” she asked, making the connection at the speed of light.
“Well, I have HBO instead of Netflix, but yes. In essence. That’s what happened. Mom. I’m in a pretty serious relationship with another woman.”

I had a weird, mixed feeling of both dropping a massive bomb, but also a feeling that the bomb landed on a soft, fluffy cloud and just fell asleep. Like I was in shock over saying the words out loud.

“Ok, so you say the word ‘relationship’ ...” mom said thoughtfully, not looking particularly upset or disturbed by what I had said. “… but does that mean that you are fully lesbian? Or only that you are in a relationship with this girl specifically?”
I had to pause and think about that one. I wasn’t really sure. I wasn’t really sure whether I even knew or not.
“How would I know?” I asked before I could stop myself. “Like … I like her a lot. We hang out and have a lot in common. I mean, all the prerequisites for us being together are there. It’s just that we both … wear bras.”

“Well. Do you find other women sexually attractive?” mom asked, far too casually in my opinion.
“Mom! No. No. All I wanted to tell you ...”
“Listen. If you are in love with another woman, that’s perfectly fine. But as your mother, I still would like to know these things. I would ask you similar questions if it was a man you were seeing.” she said simply. “That whole ‘gays are icky’ thing is pretty old, I think. It’s shallow to be upset by what other people are attracted to. Unless it’s nazi memorabilia, I would stay away from that.”
“What ...”
“My point is, we’ve never really had this talk. About girls and boys, vaginas and penises. And judging by how worried you were about telling me this, I think that I screwed up. If I had talked to you sooner, you would have known not to worry about telling me this.”

I thought about it. It made sense. My entire life, I’ve always sort of assumed that mom was asexual or something like that. Like sex was her cryptonite. Which obviously makes no sense, since she has two kids. And we didn’t just spawn in our designated rooms one day. I assume.

“Let’s do this.” mom said, as I was still pondering her words and unconsciously making indistinct noises. “Let’s play a game. I will ask you one question about you. And you, if you’d like, can ask a question about me. That way, we’ll know where exactly we stand on everything.”
That sounded like a really freaking scary game, if I was to be honest. But I was now curious enough to go along with it. If worse came to worst I would just not answer or lie.

“Sure.” I said. “But then I will ask first.”
“Alright, but let’s make coffee before anything. We’re sitting here like we’re at a goddamn interview. Want snacks?”
“What snacks do you have?”
“Uhm. Well. Grapes. And bananas. And oranges.” mom said. “I’m light on cash this month, so I had to go with the plant snacks.” she added, a bit apologetically.
“I mean. Everyone loves grapes.”
“That’s so true! A cake. Made out of watermelon flesh, but filled with grapes and raspberries. Just having that in my imagination makes me want to ...” she made a violent, crushing gesture. “I would wreck that thing so hard.”
“Mom, you’re going into trendy teen slang a bit too hard.” I criticized. “It’s expected of adults to keep a more … filtered vernacular.”
“Come on! I read facebooks and snapchats!” she exclaimed. “I can be the mom with the mouth.”
“Yes, but what would be way cooler is if you were just mom. You’re great at being just mom.”
There was a short silence.
“That is so sweet.” I finally heard mom say, with her back to me as she was pouring coffee. “But still. Do you use facebooks or anything? It’s surprisingly useful.”

She walked over to the couch – by the way, I had relocated to the couch during our conversation – and handed me my cup of coffee.
“Don’t get off topic.” I said. I was actually eager to ask her my question, now that I’d thought of a good one. “My question is – are you attracted to women? Like, any one woman ever?”
Mom looked surprised at the question. She paused for thought, her eyes looking out the window.
“Yes.” she said finally. “Weird, isn’t it? My question!”
“But wait...”
“Are you sexually attracted to all women, or just Svetlana?”
I sighed and tried to formulate an answer.
“So I think that I kinda have to use the process of elimination. Meaning I have to ask myself the question – am I attracted to men? And the answer is no. I remember actually being in school, wondering why all those trashy girls would hang around Michael, the ‘hot guy’ at our school. He just looked like any ordinary guy to me.
The truth is that I never really liked … anyone. Not sexually, at least. I don’t know. Maybe the problem is that looks just does nothing for me.”
I realized that towards the end there, I had started musing almost to myself and decided to shut up instead.

“Interesting.” mom replied, keeping her poker face. “Your turn.”
“Who was the woman?”
“Who was the woman what?” mom seemed genuinely confused.
“You know. Who was the woman that you were attracted to?”
“Ehm. All the ones that look like Katy Perry.”
“You mean Zoey Disney channel?”
“No, don’t be mean, she’s a nice girl!” mom exclaimed, but then let out a laugh. “But yes. I think – anyone I could beat in a fight I like. Because then I just could beat them into bed.”
“No. Mom, no, that’s bad. Don’t say that.” I covered my mouth with my hand in an almost comical expression of surprise.
“What? It’s my fantasy. I’ll be damned if I let someone walk away in my fantasy just because they’re ‘not feeling well’.” she shrugged.
“You know. Teenagers typically don’t like to talk to their parents about sexuality because they are scared of what they might find. This is a perfect example of what we fear to discover.”
“You know I was just joking.” mom said, smiling. “You really want to know who my first woman that I was attracted to was?”
“Yes. And how old were you?”
Mom was silent, but no longer smiling.
“I see why it was hard for you to talk to me about this.” she finally said. “It’s not not easy for me either.”
“Aww, mom, you know that you can tell me anything.” I replied, putting my hand on her shoulder.
“Yeah, but this gets complicated.” she shook her head. “You asked how old I was at the time. I will tell you who she was, but also keep in mind that I was fourteen at the time.”
I nodded and she went on.

“When I was fourteen, my father had this idea of taking the whole family on a vacation in Italy. So we traveled through Germany and Switzerland, the whole thing took three days, back then not all of the roads were large motorways, so we had to take some side routes as well. And this was pre-smart phone era, so I didn’t have to option to just watch cat videos the whole trip.

Me, mom and your uncle, Enam, were taking turns sitting in the front seat. We would switch at every toilet break. So this time, Enam was sitting in the front and me and my mother were sitting in the back.
And ...” mom paused here. She looked at me, but I was merely looking patiently at her, waiting to hear where this was going. “… so it was a rainy day, but pretty nice for us, the passengers. My dad would swear and mutter about the rain and about the terrible driving skills of all the other drivers.

But the rain was so therapeutic that we were starting to fall asleep. My mother fell asleep first. I remember this very clearly. She was wearing a summer dress, it was summer after all and we had been expecting a sunny day.
Under that summer dress she wore no bra. As she fell asleep, her dress crumpled up at her bosom and from the side – through her crumpled, short sleeve – I could see her really jolly nice breasts. I’ll never forget them. I couldn’t take my eyes off of them.

So. That was the first time I fantasized about a woman. My dear, old mum.”
I only realized that my mouth had been open when I closed it with an audible click of my teeth.
“Wow. Grandma?”
“Yes.” mom laughed. “I’ll remind you that I was both fourteen and it was a really long car drive.”

When mom had initially said that her story was complicated, I had sort of dismissed that. But now I realized that what she was probably wondering was whether or not I had been attracted to her at some point.
And I really, really wanted to just say “No! Never!”. But there was a problem. As I was about to say - “Well mom, I at least want you to know that I’ve never thought of you that way.” - a memory surfaced in my mind. A painful and pleasurable memory all at once. It was a memory of me sitting on the floor, pretending to read something on my phone, all the while I was watching mom as she slept on the couch in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. He butt was hanging off of the edge of the couch. The sunlight seemed to playfully dance across her exposed skin. And I just couldn’t take my eyes away. Looking at that butt was like looking at the mysterious butt of Mona Lisa.

“You’re wondering, aren’t you?” I asked mom finally. “Whether I’ve had a similar ‘moment’?”
“Yes. But if you can’t or won’t tell me, that’s fine. I don’t need to know either way. I just want you to understand, with my little story, that it’s perfectly natural to be attracted to many, many different things. Just stay away from nazi memorabilia.”
“Ok. So we’ll get back to you and grandma, but what’s up with the nazi memorabilia?”
“It was a joke!”
“What kind of a joke is that!?”
“It’s from that damn commercial.” mom laughed. “There is a starving, African kid – no specific country, just ‘Africa’. The country of Africa. The general area of Africa. Anyway, the kid is scrawny and over the footage of that kid, a voice says ‘No one deserves to grow up without a father’. And for some reason, Maria, a co-worker, when that commercial came on, she added to it:
‘No one deserves to grow up without a father. Unless you are Hitler’.
It made me laugh so much. Now I can’t get it out of my head.”
“I’m … glad that orphan in Africa makes you happy.” I said, not really believing the words that were coming out of my mouth.
“Aww, you teenagers are such prudes! In my day, we could talk and laugh about anything! Because everything was terrible! Have you seen the television sets from the nineties and eighties? They are criminally awful. I can’t believe I used to watch them all the time. How could I even tell what was going on?”

We fell silent and just sipped our coffee for a while.
“Life’s weird.” I commented after it became apparent that we weren’t playing the game any more.
“Oh, it gets really weird.” mom agreed. “One of our chiefs of staff left their post last month. Apparently they had been sending weekly emails to the government’s official ‘contact us’ email address with increasingly crazy conspiracy theories about what was going on in the hospital.

Before he left, we had an auditor come and examine the MRI machinery because apparently one of the conspiracy theories that the man had was that the MRI machine was exposed to the internet and all scans were being uploaded to external servers. Apparently his explanation for how it could work in theory was so convincing that they had to send someone to confirm that what he was saying was nonsense.”

“Weird.” I agreed. “There was this one time...” I stopped. I was about to tell her about me thinking of her butt at night while I played with myself. That wouldn’t do. That wouldn’t do at all. I decided to call it quits for today. “There was this one time I had a really nice conversation with my mom about all sorts. But I think I’m gonna go and have a nap.”
“Don’t nap too hard, or you’ll hurt yourself.” mom smiled, and took my empty cup with her to the kitchen.
I shook my head and went to my room.

So I am actually a student, but I live at home. Since I live in Copenhagen, I have the luxury of not requiring to live in any kind of a dorm. Our public transport system is punctual to within two minutes to the mark. In fact, public transport inspectors track lateness of buses. If a bus fails to leave the origin station at its designated time, the bus company gets a fine. If the bus is the late to other stops within a certain window, they also get a fine. There’s a lot of incentive to keep the public transport system running well-oiled in Copenhagen.

I’m not sure why I decided to tell the story from that point. I guess that’s where all of the crazy things had started.
As you can tell, mom and I get along pretty great. The only fight we had in recent memory was about our personal smart phone preference. Mom likes the shiny, Samsung ones. But I have a Blackberry. I like the keyboard and I have no shame.

But from this point onward, I just … couldn’t tear the picture of my mom’s butt out of my head. I know what it sounds like. I don’t like it any more than you do. But this is where we’re at.
When I got to my room I called Sveta to tell her about my mom’s reaction. She had been pretty anxious about it too.
We had both agreed to tell our parents this weekend – this was a sunday by the way.

“So how did she respond?” Sveta asked, after I told her that I had spoken to my mom.
“Really well. Like – it was no big thing to her at all. I think it would be no problem for you to come and visit tomorrow. We can hang and everything.”
“And your dad?”
“Still not living with us. They’ve been separated for years, they don’t do social visits to each other.”
“Yes, but have you told him?”
“No … I don’t know if I should. I don’t know what the point would be. Have you told your parents?”
“I … didn’t find the right opportunity. We had a small problem.”
“What kind of problem?”
“We had a row again. It’s that old argument about ‘computer games’. Like my programing classes are just games to me. My parents are back asswards in their mindset. They don’t even believe in electric cars. I love them. But I also wish I could just tell them to get fucked.”

I’d heard this before. Svetlana’s family was that kind of family that when someone asked you “So how’s your family?” you would answer “Well, you know. You pick your friends, not your family”.
Meaning that most people would never pick this family for anything. They cared a lot about Sveta. But also had no idea what they were doing, or so it seemed to me. In Iraq, her dad had worked as a navigational manager for a local transportation company. Local to Baghdad anyway. And back then, everything was run using paper ledgers and folders, not laptops and smart phones. When the war finally came to Baghdad they moved to Denmark and the “pen and paper” attitude came along with them.
Though they have more or less made themselves at home in Copenhagen, they still seem to be under the impression that programing is just some kind of a fad.

“Listen. Tell them that you will ‘think about it’. And come over to my place. I, at least, support your career choice.” I told her over the phone.
“No, if I leave now it will only get worse tomorrow.”
“So what you’re saying is that you want to stay with me for two days? We can arrange that.”
“No, no. I need to deal with this on my own.”
“You know how sometimes you talk to a person one day and that person is really, really trying to sell an idea to you really hard and really passionately. But then you talk to that person the day after. And for some reason, they seem to be a bit blasé about the whole thing now. Do you know why that happens?”
There was a silence over the phone as she thought over the problem. “Because they found out that it was bullshit?” Sveta asked.
“Well. Ok, maybe. But what I meant was that time changes perspective. I promise you that time is all you need to calm this situation down. It’s always like that. Someone shouts for a while, gets it out of their system. Then, the day after, they are back to normal.”
“Yeah, I guess I know what you mean.” she agreed. “I’ll see if I can sneak out. I’ll call you when I’m nearby.”
“Ok, bye, call soon!”

“Linnea?” I heard mom call me from the hallway. “Svetlana is here to see you.” As she poked her head into my room, she added “She looks like it’s been raining.”
I looked out the window at the sunshine outside, perplexed.
Regardless, I went out to greet her and saw instantly what mom meant. Her eyes were slightly puffy and her makeup, which she had at one point tried to re-apply, was running down her cheeks.
“Your family seem like such a nice bunch.” I said, trying to make a joke.
“Don’t talk to me about them.” she nearly hissed.
“Well … we have grapes and coffee. Come in and make yourself comfortable.” mom said, breaking the ice like a surgeon with a sledgehammer.

I took her hand and led her into my room. There I sat her down on my bed and looked into her eyes.
“Want to talk about it?”
“Not really.”
“Want to … I don’t know, sit and cry for a while?”
“Not really.” she chuckled.
“Man, you’re hard to please. Mom wasn’t kidding about the have grapes. Want some?”
“No.” she said in a tiny voice I hadn’t heard from her before. “I just want to sit here with you for a while.”
Something happened in my heart as she said that. A deeply warm feeling spread through my chest. Something that was either a medical condition or deep, tangible affection.

We both laid down on the bed and looked at the ceiling. We were holding hands, our fingers intertwined. I was on her right and she was on my left.
She smelled of something that I can only describe as warmth. Like how sunlight smells. I snuggled my head close to hers.

And at some point around there – I fell asleep.
The rain was soothingly beating against the windows of the car. I looked around, wondering when we were going to arrive. I was about to open my mouth and ask, but just as I did I noticed that mom was asleep on the seat next to me.
I considered waking her up anyway, I was bored and there was nothing to do in the car. But the further the car drove, the bumpier the road became.
I was annoyed at first. “These south European countries need to get their shit together and start taking care of their infrastructure.”
But out of the corner of my eye I noticed that slowly, but steadily – my mom’s summer dress was slipping off of her shoulders. I turned my head to watch so quickly that I almost broke my neck.
In fact, the dress was so far down already that I could see the top of her areolas.
The car came to some turn and as we turned, her dress slipped even further down, completely revealing her soft, pale breasts. Each one of them was just slightly smaller than the size of my head.
They swung and swayed with the motion of the car.

Not sure what to do in a situation like this, I proceeded only to observe. I didn’t want to wake and embarrass her. And I didn’t want this little gift I’d received to be covered up either.
But as we kept on driving, I realized that the dress was still slipping off every time the car turned. It was so far down her body that I could see the shading of her pubic hair.
I had to close my eyes for a second because they were at risk of popping right out of my head.

Nervously looking at mom’s sleeping face, I quickly shoved my right hand down my panties. The amount of fluid in there could have drowned someone if they approached unprepared. I was sure that I was going to cum any second, just a minute and I would be finished.
I started fingering myself as quickly, and quietly, as I could. And tough I was really horny, the edge kept moving just beyond reach.
The more my fingers played and rubbed and probed and prodded, the more on edge I became, but it’s like there was a fence there at the edge that I couldn’t quite get over.

All this time that I was playing with myself, I kept my eyes fixed on my mom’s crotch and breasts. I could smell the smell of my own scent everywhere and knew that I couldn’t keep it hidden. But I also had good reason to assume that my parents didn’t know what my sex scent smelled like.
Looking at her breasts, I got the impossibly appealing urge to just quickly reach out and grab them.
I used my left hand to squeeze my own breast, but it just wasn’t the same. I squeezed it anyway for a while because it felt nice and was really sensitive right now.
Alright.
Now or never.

I had to do it, because I knew, somewhere deep in my subconscious that if I just stroked my mom’s tits that I would have an amazing orgasm. My non-subconscious (regular conscious) agreed that it was very likely. Holding my breath and hoping that the car wouldn’t explode, my hand reached out and softly touched the breast.

To my horror – mom looked down.
“Huh. I see what you’re trying to do. But it’s down here.”
With that she took my hand and moved it down to her vagina. Her pubic hair was silky smooth and now that my fingers were stroking it, I realized that small drops of ‘excitement’ were everywhere in her pubic hair.
She wanted me to help her reach an orgasm. Maybe as much as I wanted her to help me reach an orgasm. This seemed, to my mind, to be a very beneficial arrangement for both of us.
Both of my hands relocated to my mother’s body.
Looking into her eyes, I slowly put first one, then two fingers inside of her.
All the while, her eyes had that joking, mischievous look about them. Like we were doing something naughty. And we were.

As my fingers moved slowly in and out, with me putting pressure upwards when inside, I started to sort of get a feel for the surrounding area of her mound. She had a soft, dark bush around her vulva and so the features weren’t fully visible. But as my fingers went all the way in, my palm rested on her vulva. It was really puffy, soft and warm. Much more pronounced than mine was, and to me it felt really erotic.
I moved my hand in a small, circular motion, petting the kitten – so to speak.
And then she put one finger inside of me. Oh my god. I wasn’t prepared for it and just the feeling of her hand pushing the finger in drove me quickly to the edge of the edge. I felt like a sledge hammer had knocked down the fence and I was in free fall.

My head, dizzy from the heady feelings, fell onto her chest, onto her warm bosom. Instinctively, I grabbed a nipple in my mouth to kiss it and lick it.
I felt the orgasm build up. I squeezed my thighs together to keep her hand where it was and -...

I don’t know how much time passed, but I woke up by something pulling on one of my toes.
“It’s dinner.” mom said, her face hovering above mine. “It’s dinner now. Come on. Get up.”
“Grapes memorabilia.” I said, confused by the dream I’d been having. I didn’t want to accidentally say what I had just been doing in the dream, but I couldn’t think of coherent sentences that didn’t involve “Fuck me, oh my god, please make me cum”.

I paused. Did I say that last sentence out loud? I looked around. Mom was looking at me, waiting for me to get up. Sveta was asleep next to me. Ok, so I had managed to keep my mouth shut. Thank god.

The sun was almost completely down. Though there was still some kind of light illuminating the outside, it was clearly dark now.
We lived on the sixth floor in an apartment in a fairly reputable part of town. Not to say that we haven’t lived in our fair share of shit-holes, after mom separated with dad. Housing in any capitol is an issue and a huge cluster-fuck, unless it’s like … Iceland where housing is not only available, it’s mandatory. But the result of us living so far up was that we didn’t see the lights from the streetlights down on our street, making nights a bit darker for residents of upper stories.

“Hey Sveta, get up. There be food.” I said, nudging her gently into consciousness.
“Yes, dad.” she muttered and kept on sleeping.
“It’s me. Linnea. Do I really look old enough to be your father? I barely even have a beard.” I said, not really expecting a reply back.
“No, you look lovely.” she said, waking up. “I just want to kiss you and -...” she broke off as she noticed that we weren’t alone. “-… and high-five you. And study with you.”
“Uh. Mom knows.” I reminded her. “But still, we should get up. I didn’t expect that we’d fall asleep for so long. I kind of feel like we wasted the whole day.”
“But it was a good sleep.” Svetlana said, smiling.
“I can’t argue with that.” I agreed, thinking back to my dream. And boy what a vivid dream that was. Typically, I didn’t remember even one percent of what happened to me in my dreams.
It was always something vague about me going to get ice cream, but there was no ketchup at the store so the whole day was ruined because what kind of a fool eats ice cream without ketchup? Nonsense like that.

The food was fried potatoes with onions and mushrooms.
“It smells really good.” Svetlana said, appreciatively sniffing the air.
“Wait until you taste it. That’s when it really picks up in impressiveness.” mom said, placing drinks for all of us on the table. “I didn’t even burn it.”
At first when we sat down and started eating, things were silent. Not entirely awkward, just silent in us being busy shoving food into our mouths.
“So Svetlana.” mom said eventually. “How are you doing at school? I hear that you are a hacker, is that right?” I was sure she said that intentionally to get under my skin.
“Ehm … not exactly. I study programing with focus on assembly systems. Not very flashy, unfortunately. Everyone keeps asking me if I make phone apps.” Sveta laughed, patting her chest abscentmindedly.
“But can you hack into banks and so on?” mom asked, persisting with the hacker thing.
“I mean. No but yeah. Maybe. It depends. Depends on the bank, and on what you want to accomplish. I mean, technically – you don’t need to know programing to steal from a bank, you could just steal someone’s bank card, couldn’t you?”
“But you’d need to know their pin.”
“Yeah, but say you watch them enter their pin.”
“Good point, I guess.” mom conceded. “So, how did you two love birds actually meet?”
Sveta seemed to turn slightly more red at the question.
“Our classes work together a lot.” I said. “Part of being a digital artist it being able to convert metrics, you know – numbers and statistics – into easy to read, visual representations. We had a course together called ‘visual code’ and she was my work partner.”
“And I guess that’s when things got really heated between the two of you?” mom asked, raising one eye-brow as though she found that hard to believe.
“What? You met dad in high-school. How is that any more appropriate?” I asked, indignant.
“We were at his place and playing tag. Our rules were that since he was faster, he couldn’t use his hands to tag me, so he had to use his penis.”
“Whaaat.” I exclaimed, as Sveta laughed nervously. “Nooo. No. That’s not true.”
“It’s completely true. I was wearing a strap-on we had found in his parents’ room.” mom said, reminiscing. “To make it more even. Although I had some length advantage with it.”
“No way. So he was running around the house, tagging things with his … thing?”
“With his dongle, yes.” mom confirmed. “He was still pretty quick with it.”
“I have no words.”
Sveta had just given up at this point and was laughing into her cup of pepsi. Yes. We’re a pepsi family. I like the blue colour.

“That’s not how we met.” Sveta said finally, indicating me and her.
“How long have you known that you were homosexual?” mom asked, letting the question stay open for either of us to answer.
“Always.” Sveta replied. “Even when I was younger, I thought that the Barbie dolls I was playing with were ...”
“Like super hot.” I finished the sentence for her. “They have some really perky tits. No sag what so ever.”
Sveta just blushed.
“And you?” mom looked at me.
“We were over this earlier.” I reminded her. “Probably when I met Sveta, I think.” I said, neglecting to mention that time her butt looked into my soul. “But thinking back, there were just small things that now seem like pretty obvious clues. I think the problem is that I’ve never really been ‘into’ anyone before.”
“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” Sveta asked curiously.
“No. I mean, all the friends I’ve had in elementary and high school were more or less … what is a nicer word for idiots? We all were. None of us really focused on anything other than just making noise, now that I think back to my time at school. Thinking back, I feel like I’m an entirely different person now.”
“You’re still my baby girl.” mom reassured me. “But yeah, you did calm down a lot in the last three years.”
“How about you?” I asked Sveta.
“No. I’ve always been too shy to talk about who I liked. And never really had the opportunity to be with the girls I was interested in. I was actually hoping that it would be different at university, and it really is. Everyone is so much more … serious. I thought I would like it more like this, where everyone are just focused on their work. But I feel now that people are actually trying to work themselves to death.”
“Seriously?” I asked, considering the idea. “In my class, they have basically daily ‘beer fridays’. It started as a friday thing, but their concept of ‘friday’ isn’t very clear. Friday is more a state of mind than a specific day.”
“Well. You guys are artists after all.” Sveta laughed.
“So do your class mates know about you two?” mom asked.
“No. I don’t think so. But I don’t think they care either.” I said.
“We’ve … sort of been very discreet until now.” Sveta confirmed. “I’m happy that you are so nice about it.” she added to my mom.
“Well, I can’t say that I’ve never wanted to try the sweet taste of peaches.” mom said, leaning back and taking a sip from her glass. “To wander amongst the cherry blossoms. To tip toe through the tulips. To motorboat the seas. It would be hypocritical of me to be against it.”
“So you are ...” Sveta started the sentence, but then caught herself and couldn’t think of a good way to end it.

This reminded me of something. Earlier today when I was talking to mom, she said that her first – first – memory of being interested in a woman was when she was fourteen with her mom, my grandma.
“Oh yeah.” I said, raising a finger for attention. “You told me about the first time. But if that was the first, does it mean that there were other times?”
“What was the first time?” asked Sveta, curiously.
“Oh, I was young and I just mistook Hilary Clinton for Bill Murray. Had a lovely afternoon with that.” mom waved Sveta’s question away. “The second time? The second time was when I was already married to your dad actually.”
“Bill Murray?” asked Sveta, still hanging onto her question.
“With my dad?” I asked.
“Ok. You two nosy shits get into the living room and I’ll bring a bottle of wine, got it?” mom asked, pointing at us, probably measuring our reaction.
“We get to drink?” I asked, incredulous. “Won’t that lead to a crippling cocaine addiction later on in life?”
“Yes, but if you’re smart, you can make some good money selling drugs, or so I hear.” mom replied. “You alright with that, Svetlana, or do you want some coffee, tea or something instead?”
“No, I’m fine … if it’s ok with you.” she replied, her eyes really big from either surprise or excitement. “I don’t mind. But I’d rather you didn’t tell my parents about any of this. They can be a bit difficult.”
“So I noticed.” mom said. “What stays in Vegas, comes to Vegas.”
“You mean ‘what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas’.”
“Don’t try and be clever with me.” mom snapped back, but clearly jokingly.

As we made ourselves comfortable in the living room mom brought us all glasses of wine. We actually had a set of really fancy-looking wine glasses from the thirties. They were octagonal, with each side having a fancy, lace-like pattern molded in the glass. I wasn’t sure as to how it was made exactly, but it looked really exquisite.
“So the second time.” mom said, taking a small sip of wine. “Actually not very exciting. But better than the first one. I was in my third year of university and we were all sent out as interns at different hospitals. So I was an intern at the national hospital, here in Copenhagen. Doing some MRI scans. Helping out over at ER. And another one of the girls that was there with me from my class – well, she eventually dropped out because she realized that even though she liked medicine and science, she hated the actual patients.” mom laughed at that. “I guess it’s good that she was at least honest about it, but still.

So one day went to her place to get a couple of drinks and just chat. We were supposed to be a bigger group, but there was some problem with the shifts and the people that we were supposed to meet ended up having to take different shifts. Happens all the fucking time. The administration is run by a random numbers generator, so it’s a bit messy.

So we get to her place from work. Instead of going out, we figure – hey. Why not spend some time just here, sitting and watching TV and talking crap about other people?
So she goes to change into some comfy clothes. And she’s not shy at all around me, her tits are all over the place. Swinging around, going over to change this, do that, pick that up. I’m standing there watching as she almost intentionally stretches to roll down her stockings, and reach something from a top shelf.”

Suddenly mom laughed.
“What?” I asked, curious.
“You two should see your faces. It’s like dogs, pressed up against the window of a cat factory.”
Sveta turned her face away, going really red.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Sveta.” I say. “Listen, mom does this. She really, really wants to be cool with the kids. You can’t let her see that she gets to you, you’ll only encourage her.”
“But you were basically salivating.” mom said, intentionally emphasizing the word ‘salivating’.
“Yeah, I was salivating because I was listening to a juicy story. There were tits everywhere, you said.” I answered, laughing. “Go on, what did the tits do?”

“Like I said, it’s not a very exciting story. But you were wondering whether I’ve ever been with another woman more intimately, and the answer is no. We didn’t break down, spending the night kissing each other.” mom shook her head.
“Is that what you think we do?” I laughed at the idea. Just clamped onto each other like vacuums.
“I’m not a five year old.” mom scoffed. “I understand the basic concept of eating someone out.” After a short pause she added: “Oh don’t look shocked. Do you seriously think that I don’t know the basics of lesbian sex? Come on. I know the basics of gay guy sex too, but there’s not chance of me being a gay man.”
“Well, given what we learned today it wouldn’t be too shocking.” I countered.

I was feeling oddly comfortable talking about sex and sexuality in this company. And I could tell by the relaxed posture of Sveta that she was comfortable too.

“So Sveta. What was your first time?” mom asked.
“You don’t have to answer.” I said quickly.
But after a moment of thought, she smiled and nodded. “No, it’s fine. First time that I thought of a woman in a sexual way, or first time I was with a woman?”
“Oh, so you’ve had other women before!” I exclaimed, partly in mock-outrage and partly in genuine surprise. “So when did you lose your virginity?”
“Well. I’ve never had penetrative sex.” Sveta replied, looking at us wonderingly. “I’m not sure on how the ‘virginity’ switch works, but I was under the impression that you needed to be penetrated, right? Something about the hymen?”
“But no, because wouldn’t your fingers suffice then? Like, what’s the difference?” I objected. I wasn’t entirely sure on how this whole hymen thing worked.
“A hymen isn’t a wall somewhere inside of your vagina.” mom sighed. “It’s like a sinew or membrane on the sides of your vagina’s entry. Like the supports of a doorway. The ‘breaking’ of the hymen is just stretching your vagina wide enough for it to tear. If that sounds like a not very reliable way of telling virginity then you’re right. It’s not.”
“Wait. I thought it was on the inside.” I said, unconsciously massaging my crotch. “Like … at the depth of a penis length.” saying that out loud made it sound really stupid, I realized.
“No such thing.” mom shook her head. “I don’t actually why the world thinks that there is some kind of a ‘shower cap’ inside of us. So actually, yes. It’s possible that if you only use fingers that you won’t tear your hymen. But it’s also possible for it to heal up again when torn. Like I said, it has nothing to do with virginity.”
“Well. Then when do you stop being a virgin?” Sveta asked.
“I’ve no idea.” mom replied. “It used to be pretty simple. If you’ve had a penis inside of your vagina then you were no longer a virgin. Technically, maybe you two will remain virgins forever, who knows?”
While I pondered this idea, Sveta went on with her story.
“So the first time I thought of a woman in a sexual way was actually my Danish teacher in elementary school. I thought that she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Though at the time, I was maybe ten or so.
I remember fantasizing about her … ravaging me-…” Sveta began to blush “-… just taking me and making love to me. I remember not even knowing what she would do to me. Just that we would kiss and it would feel good.” she laughed at herself. “I’ve upgraded my imagination since.”
“I can imagine. How young were you when you were with a woman for the first time?” I asked her.
“I’ll tell you. But this has to stay in this room and never leave it, ok?” she said, making sure that both me and mom nodded before going on. She took a big gulp of wine. “Last year our whole family went on vacation to Mallorca. It’s this really popular tourist island in Spain.
So we had three hotel rooms. One for me and my cousin. One for mom and her sister. One for dad and my mom’s sister’s husband.”
Both me and mom instantly went “Oooh.”
“No, you both are jumping ahead.” she shushed us by waving her hands. “My cousin is this really hard-core muslim, she is needlessly strict when it comes to the Quran. Just a pain in the ass to live with. I wouldn’t touch her even if we weren’t related.

What happened was – one morning she got fed up with trying to wake me up, and left for breakfast on her own. During the time she was gone I started waking up. And I felt a bit … you know. I was a bit horny. So I started touching myself. I let the covers slip off and I just lay there, enjoying myself. And then I nearly had a heart attack.
Apparently between the time that my cousin left and I started touching myself, the cleaning maid had come into the room. She had probably not seen that I was still there because I was buried under the blankets.
So she is looking at me like a deer in the head-lights. I am looking at her like she threw a bucket of cold water at me. And we just stare at each other for what feels like … I don’t like to exaggerate, but it was definitely at least a hundred years.
Then I moved. What I did was I removed my hand away from my … uhm … “
“Vagina?” mom prompted.
“Yes, my vagina. And I placed it on the bed next to me, because I meant to get up. Like, push myself off of the bed. But. The way it must have looked to her was that I basically spread myself for her now. Like I was inviting her.
And – for some reason – she must have thought ‘Yeah, alright. I’ve got time for this’.”
Mom burst out laughing.
“Wait, so you had sex with the hotel maid?” I asked, genuinely surprised at this.
“I know. It’s not very romantic. But I’ve heard a lot of ‘first time’ stories online, about how it’s sometimes painful or difficult for the first time. And it seems that my first time was well above average.
All we did was – she came closer to me and then positioned herself on top of me, like you would see women sit on a man’s … penis.”
“Dongle.” mom corrected her.
“Yes, the dongle.” Sveta laughed. “But she sat a bit lower on my legs, so that she could put her fingers inside of me. And then she swayed on top of me in time with her fingers moving in and out of me.
But I was really still at first, because I wasn’t expecting this to happen. It was like one of my fantasies, but in real life. I wasn’t sure what to do, what to grab. Like, would it be rude of me to just grab her chest then and there? In retrospect, I should have. But I was just waiting for cues from her.
After a while she actually paused and pulled up her dress skirt. She was wearing one of those black uniforms with skirts instead of trousers, you know what I mean? Like flight attendants wear.
She pulled the skirt up, and I moved my hand directly to her crotch. I wasn’t even thinking.” Sveta paused at this point to drink some more wine. “It’s actually interesting, now that I think back to the event, that she was already soaking wet when I put my hand inside of her panties. I wonder what she had been doing in our bathroom. I don’t think she was just cleaning it.” Sveta laughed.
“Thank you for those details.” I said, feeling very hot and basically chugging wine.
“Did you see her again?” mom asked, leaning her head to the side.
“Well. Every time I saw her after that, we kind of … winked at each other. Or smiled. But no, we didn’t do anything else.” Sveta shook her head, squinting, seemingly trying to remember a year back in time.
“And how was your first time?” mom turned to me.
“You want to know my first time?” I asked, exchanging an embarrassed look with Sveta.
“Yeah. Now that we’re all sharing.”
Oh boy. I had to admit that I was really excited to talk about it, especially since Sveta and I hadn’t really talked too much about it. We’ve mostly just been doing affirmation. Like “Yes, we did that!”. Rather than sit down and discuss it.

“First time was on the bus.” I said. “We took the bus together, late in the evening one day. Literally no one but us and the driver was on board.”
“Oh, that’s right!” Sveta exclaimed. “I’d forgotten about that one. I can’t believe we did it there.”
“What did you do exactly?” mom said, her eyes cautious, as though she thought we publicly urinated or something.
“Nothing big. But it was at the start of that week, if I don’t misremember, that we had for the first time talked about being more than just friends. And we would take every possible opportunity for a kiss. And we still do!” I winked at Sveta with a smile.
“Then do it now!” mom said. “I’ll cheer you on, like a personal … you know how people have personal lawyers or bodyguards? I’ll be your personal cheerleader!”
“That’s … bizarre, don’t do that.” I said, trying to make her sit back down.
But she stood up and did a little dance while saying “Give me a K! Give me an I! Give me an S! And another S! Give me a kiss!”
While I was trying to hide, Sveta moved closer to me and gave me, what was to date, the most sensual kiss we’d ever shared.
For a short moment, I completely forgot everything that was going on. Our tongues met, our lips closed, and I felt our saliva mixing inside. It was wet and a bit sloppy actually, but her scent was so powerful and her body was radiating so much heat that it completely overwhelmed my senses.
As our kiss went on, I realized that our hands were roaming around, touching our bodies.
Gently I grasped Sveta’s wrists and, smiling slightly, pulled away from the kiss.

“Cheerleading does make a difference.” I said. “That one was pretty good.”
“That one was amazing.” Sveta corrected me with a satisfied smile.
“I never knew I had an inner athlete.” mom grinned, looking at the two of us. “Maybe I should take up cheerleading?”
“Let’s not do things.” I sighed. The wine decided that this specific sentence didn’t need any more work.
“We spent that entire bus ride kissing.” Sveta said, holding my hand tightly to her chest in her own hand. “I am sure that the bus driver saw us kissing, by the way. But after the first two stops, with no one getting on the bus, Linnea started to move her hand along my inner thigh. Like – all the way up to here-… “ Sveta marked a line from her lower thigh all the way up into her crotch.
“In my defense, I didn’t even know that we were the only people on the bus at that point. I was just thrilled that this was happening. My hands wanted to go everywhere, under your t-shirt, into your pants. You know that joke – where when someone posts a picture of an octopus, someone else always writers ‘I’ve seen enough hentai to know where this is going’? It was kind of like that, I was the octopus. Just hands everywhere.”
“Nooo.” Sveta said, shaking her head. “It wasn’t like that at all. You really fixated on my vagina and breasts, but I was the one running my hands everywhere.”

“Let’s just say that we weren’t really controlling our hands to any significant degree.” I said, a bit surprised at her comment. “The thing is that Sveta smells really nice. So that when we were kissing – I kind of had trouble paying attention to what I was doing specifically. I just knew the general direction that I wanted us to go in.”
I moved in and kissed Sveta again to feel that fragrance.
“See what I mean?” I said, when I pulled back again.
Both mom and Sveta burst out laughing.
“What?” I asked, confused. My brain not realizing that they wouldn’t know how I thought that Sveta smelled from me smelling her.
“I’ve never kissed her, I wouldn’t know.” mom said, still laughing, but I felt something change in Sveta’s posture.
“Oooh.” I said, looking at the two of them. “I know what to do.”
“No.” mom said, realizing what I wanted.
“But no, wait. Remember, all roads lead to Vegas. And you’re the only one here who hasn’t kissed a real, true woman.” I persisted.
“Are you sure?” Sveta asked, hesitantly but not reluctantly. “And it’s what Stays in Vega-...”
“It’s only fair.” I interrupted her. I looked at my glass of wine. It was full. I thought back to how many times it had been full this night. And then to how many times it had been empty. The bottle of wine on the table was empty. I just haven’t been paying attention to the fact that it had been magically refilling itself.

I wondered to myself whether this was drunk me talking, or whether I was actually thinking – on my own terms – that this was a really good idea.
I decided to err on the side of caution and assume that it was my idea, and not the alcohol talking. Since I am more reliable than the alcohol, it would make sense that I would have this great idea.

Needless to say, drunk me was an idiot. Then again, I can’t really speak too many praises of the sober me either.

“Yes. You should totally kiss.” I added as moment of silence passed, with mom and Sveta looking first at each other, and then at me. “I would love for us all to have this deeper connection, you know?”
With that, mom sat herself down on my right-hand side, as Sveta was sitting on my left.
She took Sveta’s hand into her own and leaned forward, inviting Sveta to move in as well.
Sveta took the hint and their lips met right in front of my eyes.

Sveta put her hand gently on my mom’s face. I watched as their mouths worked, softly, smoothly moving, massaging each other’s tongues. And after a couple of heart beats, they pulled away.
And as they pulled away from each other, they looked nothing other than absolutely radiant.
They were both flushed and Sveta was slightly flustered.
Then mom suddenly laughed out loud and me and Sveta joined in. It wasn’t really a “Haha, that’s funny” laugh. It was more a laugh of relief, of tension easing.

I put my arms around them both, going around their waists. And they both sat down on either side of me. Sveta leaned into me and gave me a peck on the lips.
“This is really nice.” she said, resting her head on my shoulder.
“I agree.” my mom said, leaning into me from the other side.
“Aren’t we all chummy.” I said, almost to myself. Something was going through my head. Something that wasn’t really painful, but still difficult to think about. Something that felt a lot like ‘I want to have sex with my mother’.
“What’s up?” Sveta asked.
“No … it’s nothing.” I said slowly, my brain feeling muddy and unfocused.
“You can tell us. I think, after what we’ve said and done today, you can say anything really.” mom said, finishing off her glass of wine. “Wouldn’t be fair if we stopped here.”
“No, it wouldn’t be fair.” I agreed. “But … I don’t want to make this really weird right now.”
“I think we’re past that.” Sveta said. She was slowly sliding down into the soft depth of the couch. Like she was trying to relax harder with every second.
“It’s just that I really like you.” I said to Sveta. “Like, I really, genuinely want to be with you and have you in my life.”
“That’s sweet.” my mom said in an uncharacteristically high-pitched voice.
“And I want to be with you!” Sveta exclaimed, raising her head. “Forever. You can have me.”
“Ok, cool but melodramatic.” I said, but I couldn’t stop my face splitting in a huge smile at that.
“So what did you want to say?” she asked.
“Right.” I felt that show was a lot better than tell in this situation.
So I decided to show them what I wanted to do. I stood up and took off my blouse. They were both watching me carefully, observing the direction in which I was steering this ship.
I put the blouse in a careful heap on the floor somewhere behind me.
Then I unclasped my bra. I felt, rather than heard, their intake of breath.

My breasts weren’t that big, B-cups, but they had a nice pout and firmness to them that I liked personally.
I dropped the bra behind me as well.
Then I went to unbutton my jeans and mom let out an “Oooh.”. A kind of conflicted “Oooh” that I agreed with whole heartedly.
I took my jeans off and added them to the pile on the floor. My filing system required a bit of work, but I figured I’d find all the clothes later one way or another.
For a brief moment I stood there, watching them both. Then I approached Sveta and put my hands on her thighs. I parted her thighs and went in to kiss her. I kissed her as passionately as we had kissed before, this time sparks flying everywhere, our noses brushing against eachother, us breathing heavily.
But after a moment I rose back up. I looked my mom straight in the eyes and I went to put my hands on her thighs.
“Oh, honey – let’s not do this.” she said, but with absolutely zero conviction.
“But I think we should.” I said, and kissed her on the lips. “I really feel it’s the right thing.”

Gently I moved my face closer to hers. My lips landed softly on hers and after the initial contact, I let my tongue move into her mouth, going between her lips.
At first she was quiet. She let it happen but seemed to not want to encourage me. And then suddenly she grabbed me with both her arms and pulled me into her. She hugged me closely to her and kissed me deeply and passionately.
Her tongue and mine played, or well – they sort of flopped, around in our mouths. She tasted of wine and smelled of her regular shampoo and something else, something that must have been her own, natural scent.
Her hands were on my ass, massaging my butt cheeks and she was making small, soft moans.
After a few heart beats, I pulled away. I felt like I had just been in an explosion, still slightly shell-shocked.
“I hate to interrupt.” Sveta said. “But that was so hot. Have you two … you know …”
Mom and I paused, waiting for her to finish the sentence.
“Have you two done anything with each other before?” she asked finally.
I moved off of mom and sat myself on top of Sveta.
“No. Never.” I said.
Mom moved herself closer so that she could sit right next to Sveta and without being prompted gave a really wet kiss to Sveta, at the same time as I lifted Sveta’s t-shirt over her head.
“We’ve never even talked about sex in general before today.” mom added. “I feel like I’m such a bad mother.” She moved her head up until it was chest-height to me and kissed my left breast. Not just the nipple, she sucked in a bunch of breast-flesh in her mouth and kissed it, licking it and massaging it with her hands. “I really should have done this sooner.”
Sveta more or less ripped her jeans off of her, she was so excited that she somehow managed to fling them off of her in the position that she was sitting in, with my mother’s breasts hanging just above her face, brushing her nose.
With no hesitation she put her hand under mom’s blouse and rubbed them, making mom give off a slight moan in surprise.

In all of this I had over-estimated just how much control I had. As mom went back to kiss Sveta, I started grinding my vagina on Sveta’s thigh, massaging her breasts with my hands as I moved up and down. And the bizarre, highly sexual reality of the situation suddenly struck me. I couldn’t stop myself.
“Oh … my god.” I whispered as I came. I used Sveta’s breasts as purchase to keep myself steady, as the orgasmic wave drowned me in deafening pleasure. “Holy shit. Holy fuck.” I breathed deeply, falling onto the couch, on Sveta’s left-hand side.
And as I got off of Sveta, I saw mom sit herself on top of Sveta.
Mom’s blouse had been removed and Sveta’s face was right between mom’s breast. Though they had a bit of sag, they still looked amazing, being roughly twice the size of my own and still pretty perky, though really soft.
I saw Sveta’s hand quickly fingering her own vagina, her panties shifted to the side, giving me a great view of her glistening wetness.
Looking first at me, and then back to Sveta, mom unbuttoned her own jeans and removed them. Then she slowly moved her self up, letting Sveta’s breasts brush against her stomach. And stopped when her vagina, covered by her panties, was right in front of Sveta’s face.
Sveta needed no prompting for this. She moved her face right into mom’s crotch, but then she did something that I hadn’t seen before. Sveta covered mom’s vulva with her whole mouth and softly breathed on it. The heat of Sveta’s breath made mom squirm and moan in pleasure.

As Sveta moved aside mom’s panties, she instantly started sucking and licking the labia, working her way around the vulva, digging for the clit.
Being a team player, and having calmed down after my orgasm, I moved down to the floor and positioned myself right in front of Sveta, between her legs. Since her hands were now busy working my mom, I decided to help her out.
I tried to do the thing that she had done, so at first moved her panties back to cover her wet vagina. Then I put my mouth over her vulva, so that it was completely covered. For a second I had the image of me putting a burger into my mouth. And then I let out a slow, warm breath onto her vagina.
Sveta squirmed and laughed. “That feels amazing!” she exclaimed.
“No, don’t stop!” mom whined instantly, taking Sveta’s head and placing her mouth back to work on mom’s vagina.
I took off Sveta’s panties completely and put my mouth back where it had been, but this time without taking all of the vulva in.
Sveta had never shaved her pubic hair, so to figure out where to go I let my tongue roam her slit, investigating the labia, testing to see how the folds were placed and how big or small they were.
I had done this with her once before, and she had later commented that she had really enjoyed how I payed attention to every part of her vagina.
This time I decided not to delay too long. I used my hands to spread her vagina apart and instantly spotted her clit. It was swollen and ready for a really good time. I was ready to give it that.

Somewhere above me, I heard mom having a pretty good time as well, as she suddenly started moaning at full volume.
“Oh my god. Oh yes. Oh god yes.” she kept repeating over and over.
Suddenly Sveta’s thighs came together and held my head between her legs steady. I realized that she was about to cum and picked up the speed, adding pressure with my tongue as I quickly licked and massaged the clit in my mouth.
“Ah, ah, ah!” I heard mom scream, as from the other end, I heard Sveta moaning incoherently into mom’s vagina.
Suddenly Sveta’s legs opened and she put a protective hand over her mound.
“Oh my god! Oh my god! Holy molly!” I heard Sveta moan, as mom’s naked body collapsed right next to her.
Their naked bodies looked beautiful together, and the smell of sex in the room made me feel incredibly horny.
I put one finger into Sveta’s vagina and then licked it, grinning at her.
“Holy molly?” I snickered.
In response, she bent down and kissed me on the lips, pointedly licking and sucking on my tongue.
As soon as she pulled away, mom’s face appeared out of nowhere and kissed me. She shoved her tongue into my mouth, with a lot of saliva being exchanged. I sucked on her tongue and we ‘licked’ each other inside.
As she pulled away, as small trail off saliva till hung on. My right hand was fingering my vagina and I sat myself back on Sveta’s thigh. They both looked at me as I kept masturbating myself in front of them.
Mom’s right hand reached out to stroke me. Just me generally, stroking my breasts, my hands, my ass, my vagina.
Watching all of this, Sveta slowly started to rub her vagina, almost absentmindedly.
My breathing was getting heavier and heavier. I felt the orgasm building inside of me like a kettle on the verge of boiling, with the water beginning to rumble.
Mom was there to support me, one of her hands rubbing my vagina from behind, between my legs. She was almost touching my asshole with her thumb. Her other hand was massaging my breasts.
I felt really powerful pressure from deep inside of me and suddenly …
“Aaah ...” I came so hard that I lost my balance and slumped forward, my head buried in the couch, with the rest of my body resting on Sveta.

The last thing I heard before drifting into restful slumber was: “Well that was quite a night.”
I wasn’t sure who said it. But I agreed. Whole heartedly.
1 comments

Misty_TiratzoReport 

2017-05-13 00:24:15
I think that this really happened. Thank you for sharing. You have given me so much to think about

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