22 comments/ 106817 views/ 82 favorites Nature or Nurture? By: YKN4949 It was the Monday before the Tuesday that my senior year of high school was supposed to begin. It was just two weeks after my eighteenth birthday. I was in my room, lying on my bed and playing with my iPad. It was drizzling outside and I felt cozy, curled up on my bed with the covers wrapped around my waist. I could smell dinner wafting up through the vents. And I was smiling to myself. There was no way I could know at that moment, while I was so absolutely content with my life, that everything was about to change. First, everything was going to fall apart, and then it was going to get put back together, even better than before. But I had no conception of that now, flipping through a magazine and considering what to wear at school the next day. I heard the doorbell ring but didn't stir. I knew my mom was downstairs, cooking dinner, so there was no reason for me to get up. I heard her open the door and I could hear muffled conversation at the door. I couldn't make anything out, although I wasn't really trying. I thought for a moment that I heard my mother's voice rise a little bit. Then the talking became faster and finally I heard the door shut emphatically. It wasn't a slam, but it was pretty loud. I shrugged and kept reading. "Ella!" I heard her call up the stairs, her voice sounding strange and nervous, "Can you come down here for a second." "I am just finishing this article!" I called down. "Please... now!" she said, almost sounding like she was begging. I felt a cold stab in my stomach. I got up quickly and started to move down the stairs. This reminded me of another Monday, ten years earlier. I was 8 years old. My mother had called me out of my room where I was watching television. I'd crept down the stairs and she was sitting on the couch, clutching a pillow. Her eyes were watery and red, but she wasn't crying. Her normally tanned skin looked bleached and her lips were so thin. I had felt so much fear when I saw her that I sat down on the floor and stared at her. "Ella, I have some bad news," she'd said and her voice cracked and she seemed to be fighting not to cry. "What?" I'd begged. I always hated bad news, I wanted it out where I could see it and fight it. "Today, on his way home from work you daddy got sick in his car. He had a problem with his heart. He got sick so bad... that he couldn't control his car. He crashed. Honey, your Daddy died. I am so sorry," she said and threw open her arms. I don't even remember how I made it from sitting on the floor up into her arms, but I did it. I remember her holding me there. On that same couch she still owns. She kept herself from crying; she let me take all the crying and all the sympathy. I loved my mom so much for that day. But I didn't want to repeat it. But she had that same edge in her voice now. I crept down the stairs, my legs feeling like jelly. She was sitting on the couch again. She didn't look like she was about to cry, but she did look dazed. She looked up when she saw me, but didn't say anything. I felt sick as I sat next to her. I couldn't think of what the news could be. Was she sick? How did tie in to the fact that someone had rung our doorbell? Did someone else we loved die? I couldn't take it. I had to know. "Mom, what's wrong?" I almost screamed. She reached over and put her delicate hand with its long, thin fingers on my knee. "Honey," she said, the pet name she used, "There is someone outside who wants to see you. I told her that I had to talk to you before she did." I was more confused than ever. Who wanted to see me? "Ok," I said, a little bit too much like a bratty teenager, "who is it." "Your biological mother," she said and I felt like I'd been kicked. I dropped back against the couch and crossed my arms over my chest. I'd known all my life that my mom hadn't been the person who gave birth to me. My dad said that he'd married a girl who was 18, just out of high school, because she got pregnant. I was born and she immediately ran off. Apparently, when I was two, my dad had met Linda. Mom. Linda couldn't have kids, but she always felt like my mom. I always called her mom. When my dad died, no one even talked about me going to live with my aunt or my grandparents. Linda was Mom. I can remember getting almost violently angry as a child (especially after my father died) when people would ask about my "real" mom. Linda was my real mom. That other woman was just an incubator. I didn't even know, or care to know, my biological mother's name. But I always knew in the back of my mind that she was out there. And I always sort of worried that maybe she was my "real mom" and everyone else was right. I looked at my mom. No one looking at us would ever think that she was related to me. She was much younger than my father when they married, only 21 years older than me. She has long dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes. Her face is angular and striking with a small nose, high cheekbones and wide eyes. Her skin is tanned and she is in very good shape. She had 36-B breasts, a slim stomach, and very small, toned butt and long thin legs. She is around 5'6 and 130lbs. Unlike my white mother I am half-black (my father) and half Korean (my "biological" mother). I have very long hair that must come from my mother because it is very straight and a very black. I have high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes, a small nose, thick pink lips, and embarrassingly tiny ears. My skin is the color of coffee (much different than my father, who'd been very dark). Even at 18 I had a voluptuous build with 34-C breasts, a very thin waist, hips as wide as my breasts, and a large but toned butt. I am 5'3 and weigh around 125lbs. "Oh," I managed to say. I wasn't sure exactly what I was supposed to say, or think for that matter. My mom looked nervous. "What do you want me to do honey?" she asked, "Send her away?" And now the onus was on me and I was terrified. We just sat there for a few seconds. I looked out the front window. The blinds were drawn, but I could make the outline of a person standing on the front porch. My birth mother. "What's her name?" I asked for the very first time in my life. "Tiffany." "What should I do?" I asked, "What would dad want me to do?" She gave me a wry smile. It was the smile she gave when I said something about my dad. But I think she was happy that I was thinking about him. "Your dad never ever talked about your...Tiffany," she explained, "I don't know what he thought about her. I don't know if he hated her or loved her. I didn't ask. I don't know what he'd want. But, for what its worth, that woman on the front porch is desperate to see you. Your dad taught you to be a good person. Just do what you think is right." I sighed. That was the kind of answer you start to get when you're an adult. Not very satisfying. "I guess I should meet her," I said and I stood up. My mom stayed on the couch. I looked at her, asking her with my body language to come with me. She shook her head. "I will be right here if you need me," she said. I walked towards the front door. My heart was really pounding. I didn't know what to expect. I think part of me was terrified that I was scream at this person on the front porch. Make a giant scene. Demand to know why I wasn't good enough for her. Rub the fact that my stepmother was a thousand times better than her right in her face. Or that I would cry, make her think I cared about her. I opened the door and stepped out onto the front porch. The woman was standing on the far side of the porch. Her back was to me and I could see that her arms were crossed in front of her chest. She was short, only around 5'2 and very, very thin. Her hips barely flared. Her hair was very long, going most of the way down her back. It was jet black and straight. She was wearing shorts and I could see the smooth skin of her calves. She heard the door close behind me and she turned. She was a beautiful woman. Her eyes were a deep shade of brown (like my own) and her face was broad, smooth and welcoming. She had a cute nose, a wide smile with glittering white teeth and a perfectly formed chin. She was wearing make-up and it was clear she spent a lot of time on her appearance. Her bangs hung down just so, the rest of her hair framing her face perfectly. She was just as thin in the front as in the back, with a flat stomach and narrow legs. But it looked like she'd had some work done. Specifically, she had very large 32-D breasts that looked strange attached to her small frame. They didn't look natural, I mean they were clearly fakes, but they did look attractive. Her whole appearance was alluring. My dad apparently had a knack for picking up good-looking women. "Hello Ella," she said. Her voice was soft and playful. She put out a hand to shake mine. "Hello Tiffany," I said coldly, crossing my arms across my breasts. I was under no obligation to make this easy or pleasant for her. She slowly crossed her arms back in front of her ample breasts, pretending she didn't notice I was rude. "You are so beautiful," she gushed and it sounded sincere. I was flattered despite myself. Even if she was just buttering me up, it was nice to have a gorgeous woman other than my mother...well other than my real mother... say I looked good. "Thanks," I said noncommittally. For a long while we stood awkwardly on the front porch, not saying anything, looking at each other out of the corners of our eyes. After an eternity she spoke. "I picked your name you know?" she said as if it were no big thing, "Your father wanted to name you after his mother. Doris." "Thanks," I said and she laughed. She had a musical laugh, I loved it instantly. And hated it. Then there was another long silence. I saw her looking me over, but I pretended I didn't notice, I had important things to watch on my shoes. I heard her begin to speak a few times and then think better of it. Then I heard her say something lightly under her breath. "Cinderella and her evil stepmother?" she said and I felt my blood boil. "What the fuck did you just say," I screamed. I could hear my mother bolt off of the couch inside. But I heard her pause at the door. Tiffany looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry, I am so sorry," she said, "That was a very inelegant way of asking how you are doing. I just know teenage girls fight with their... with their mothers. I am sorry." She looked shocked. I was surprised myself. I very rarely swear. But how dare she question my mother? Where did she get the right? But I controlled myself. "I guess it was a misunderstanding," I said and sat down on the porch swing. She walked over next to me. I could smell her perfume as she sat down. "I really didn't mean to offend you. I always seem to do and say the wrong thing, you know?" she said. I decided to twist the knife. "Like abandoning your baby and your husband?" I said. But she didn't even wince. "Exactly," she said, "Ella. I thought about you every day. Leaving you and your father was the biggest mistake of my life. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish I had made a different choice." "Well I am glad you did," I said, letting the venom drip off my tongue, "I am so glad my mother raised me instead of you." I meant it, but the main reason I said it was to hurt her. "You're probably right," she said and then she sighed. She leaned back heavily in the swing. I was sort of relieved that she'd admitted I was better off without her. I could respect her for that at least. A very little bit of respect. "If you missed us so much why didn't you ever come? Why didn't you come for dad's funeral?" I asked. I hadn't realized that I wanted to ask her that question until it was out of my mouth. Now I needed to know. "Would you have wanted me?" she asked, "You were better off without me. I am not a good woman Ella. I've done some terrible things in my life. I am not nearly as bad as I used to be, though. If I came before... it would've been bad. Plus, at the time, I was married and I don't think my husband would have been very happy to know I had an ex-husband and a daughter." "You're re-married?" I asked. It seemed strange to me. For all these years I sort of pictured my birth mother as disappearing from Earth the instant she disappeared from my life. It made sense that she continued to have a life after she was gone, but it was weird to think about. "Not anymore," she explained, "I got a divorce two years ago. It was a bad marriage... we hurt each other. He wasn't a good man like your father. And I have spent the last two years thinking about my life and the mistakes I've made. I am not a smart woman Ella, I do stupid things all the time. But I have been trying to figure out why I worry about things like this," she said point to her breasts, "When I should be worried about this," and she put her hand on my knee. Involuntarily I jerked back. I didn't want her hands near me. "Well I am not something you have to worry about. A better woman than you has worried about me my entire life," I said. And I realized I didn't want to say anything else to her right now. I stood up from the swing and started to walk towards the door. "Ella," Tiffany said and I turned and looked at her, "I came by today mostly to tell you that I moved back in town. I have an apartment on Fisher Street. I want you to come see me sometime, if you want. Here is my number and address." She extended a small card between her fingers. I walked over to her and snatched the card away, then turned quickly and walked into the house. My mother was standing in the hallway when I came inside. Suddenly, emotions welled inside of me that I hadn't realized I was holding back. Tears came quickly and I felt indescribably tired. I ran to my mother and she held me in her arms, crying with me and telling me that everything was all right. Chapter 2: Requesting a ride and getting one "But mom!" I almost screamed, "I told you about the game like two weeks ago and you said I could take the car!" "I know that Ella," my mother said in an exasperated voice, "And I have already apologized. Twice. I really wish you could take my car to the game. But the hospital called. They are short on nurses and I need to take an extra shift. There is nothing I can do about it." My mother was wearing her scrubs already and she was collecting her keys and other items on her way out the door. I was following behind her. My mom worked at a hospital an hour and a half away. Her shift started at 6 p.m. and she worked for 12 hours. She wouldn't be home until at least 8 o'clock the next morning. "Mom you have like a million vacation days. Can't you take one of them today?" I was desperate to go to the game. My boyfriend, David, was normally the back-up fullback for the football team. But the starter had twisted his ankle and was out for a week, so David had the chance to actually play! I needed to be there to support him. "Honey, I can't take a vacation day when they call me in because too many people have taken vacation days. Can't one of your friends take you? Or David's parents" she asked as she opened the door to the garage. "The game is 80 miles away, my friends aren't going to want to go. And David's parents never go to the games," I explained with the intensity that only a high school girl can conjure. "Why don't his parents go? That is terrible, especially since he is starting today," my mother said and I rolled my eyes. This was really beside the point. "It will be really terrible if his girlfriend doesn't show up," I said. I knew David. He would want to find me before the game to get a kiss for good luck. If I wasn't there, he'd be very upset and I knew he wouldn't care that I tried. I needed to get there. "Dear, I am really sorry, but there is nothing I can do. Here," she said and she handed me a twenty, "buy yourself some pizza or something for dinner and I will make this up to you later." And with that the door to the garage closed behind her and she was on her way to work. I slouched over to the living room and threw myself on the couch. I was absolutely miserable. I looked at the clock. It was 4:30. The game started at 7:00. I resigned myself to the fact that I wouldn't be going to the game. I turned on the television but couldn't focus so I turned it off. Finally, I decided to take my mother's advice and order a pizza. I opened up the drawer on the end table next to the couch and pulled out all of the pizza fliers and phone numbers. As I did so, I saw a little white card fall out of a menu and land on the floor. When I picked it up I saw that it was Tiffany's number. Suddenly inspiration struck. I shoved the pizza menus back into the drawer and grabbed my phone. I dialed Tiffany's number. "Hello?" A woman's voice said after two rings. "Hello," I said, "May I please speak to Tiffany?" "Oh sure," the voice said and then, away from the phone, "Hey Tiffany, there is some girl on the phone for you." I heard more muffled talking and then finally, Tiffany's voice. "Hello, who is this?" Tiffany said in a cheerful voice. Suddenly I couldn't believe that I had called her. But it was too late now. "Hey, this is Ella," I said and she made an excited sort of noise her throat, but I talked over her, "who was that?" I asked. "Oh, my roommate Beth," she explained, "We used to know each other back when I was with your dad and I were together. I am staying with her. What's up?" "Well," I started and then didn't know what to say. How could I ask her for a favor now? She'd come over to meet me over a month before and I had completely ignored her since. I didn't want a relationship with her. I could be opening the door for something more than I wanted. "If you need anything from me Ella, just ask. Are you having some sort of problem?" she asked and she sounded understanding. Warm and almost motherly. And I did need help. Suddenly the whole story poured out of me. I needed the car, my mom was at work, I wanted to support David, and every other little feeling I had about the game. The whole time Tiffany listened patiently and expressed understanding. "So I was wondering if...maybe you could..." I said, stumbling now that I actually had to make the request. "You want a ride to the game?" she asked, saving me the trouble. "Yes," I said, relieved. "Of course Ella, I'd be happy to go to your game. And meet this David character, he sounds cute," she said and I blushed. "Thank you so much Tiffany," I said and I meant it, "Remember the game is a ways away and it starts at seven, so get here as fast as you can!" "Of course, I am on my way," Tiffany said and then we hung up. I ran up to my room and quickly got changed into a little powder blue skirt and a pink polo shirt. I slipped on a pair of rubber flip-flops and went back down to the couch. My purse was already there and I was ready to go. I clicked on the television and waited. And waited. And waited. Occasionally my eyes would dart out towards the street, looking to see if a car was pulling into the driveway. But time just kept crawling along while the television blared. Soon it was 5:00, then 5:30, then 6:30. I called over to Tiffany's apartment again but her roommate said she'd left just minutes after she got off the phone with me. Then the game started and I was still at home. By that time I started crying. I figured it was about halftime when lights poured into my living room from the driveway. I saw Tiffany sitting in the driver's seat. She honked the horn once. "Yeah right," I said to myself and crossed my arms over my chest. She honked again and I still refused to budge. Finally I heard her car door slam and her feet crunching in the gravel. A few moments later there was a knock at the door. I got up from the couch and went to answer it. "Hey Ella," she slurred, "You ready to go?" She was wearing a skintight black dress that exposed her ample cleavage and she was standing over me on 4-inch heels. She seemed to be having a little bit of trouble keeping her balance and I could tell she was drunk. Nature or Nurture? "So pretty baby," my biological mother cooed and I looked into her eyes while I played. She looked like she was crying. "Oh fuck," I grunted, "What is it?" I asked, moving my hand away from my clit. "Don't stop," she said and I kept moving. I couldn't stop now. I was no longer in control of myself, "All I have ever been good at in my life, is fucking and playing. I am just so happy I could teach my daughter something like this." She said. It felt strange. This was somehow almost maternal to her. And to me, I felt so close to her right now. "Thank you, mother," I said. Even as I said it I felt like I betrayed my actual mother, but I needed to say, it felt so right. "Can I put my finger in now?" I asked. But she was so moved or something by me calling her mother than she seemed almost frozen. "No baby, I want to do something for you," she said. Then she leaned forward on the bed, until she was lying on her stomach. Her cute little butt was up in the air and I admired it. Her tits mashed against my bed and her face was now only a foot from my pussy. I didn't know what she was doing. She reached up and took my hand away from my pussy. I whimpered. I still wanted it there. But she looked up at me from the bed with sexy eyes and a wicked smirk and inched forward. I felt her hot breath on my pussy. I was frozen. I had an idea about what she was going to do, but I didn't know if I wanted it. She didn't wait to find out. I felt the hot wet stab of her tongue on my clit and my fists rolled into balls. I looked down between my legs and saw my biological mother's thick black hair cascading over my legs, I saw her beautiful eyes looking up at the under side of my breasts, and I saw her ass sticking up into the air. And the whole time and felt the soft, sexy stroke of her rough wet tongue against my clit. She swirled her tongue around my clit, and stuck her tongue hard up under my clitoral hood. The whole while she gently massaged my thighs with her small, elegant fingers. I felt the tension building suddenly. I couldn't even make noise, all I could do was open my mouth and close my eyes. I put my hands onto her head, running my hands through her long hair. I heard a croaking sound and then the most intense feeling of my life. It had that crazy vibrating feeling that a sneeze gives you, and that same disorientation, but 10,000 times more powerful. And it somehow felt wet and hot at the same time. And it radiated out from my pussy in waves all over my body until I felt weak. As soon as the feeling stopped, I fell back against my bed, panting. For a few moments it was quiet in my room. Then I noticed that Tiffany was lying next to me, holding me in her arms. I hadn't even noticed her moving. I felt her sweaty skin against mine, I could smell my pussy on her breath, and I could feel her large fake breasts huddled against my body. She was cooing wordlessly at me and I felt tired and satisfied. A little voice deep inside of me was warning me that this was wrong, but I was too content in that moment to really listen to it. "Thanks Tiffany," I said, "That was incredible." "Want to return the favor?" she asked hopefully. I was a little afraid. I didn't know what to do. She seemed to sense my unease, "just do what I did. Believe me, there is no way for this not to feel at least a little nice. You can't fuck it up." "Ok," I said shyly. My biological mother rolled over on my bed so that she was lying on her back and spread her legs. I could still smell her arousal and it weakened any resolve I had to stop myself. I got between Tiffany's legs and looked down at her pussy. I looked up at her and she was smiling and nodding. I was about to bend over and get between her legs like she'd done with me. Instead, she lifted her legs up and hooked knees over my shoulder. Her pussy was just inches from my face. I could see her reddened pussy lips and smell her intoxicating aroma. "Lick your mother's pussy," Tiffany moaned, almost begging. "Whatever you want mother," I said and leaned my head forward. My nose touched her hot skin just above her clitoris. I opened my mouth and my tongue rubbed against the soft, sticky skin of her pussy lips. Her juices were hot, salty, and delicate. It tasted like the essence of woman, and I wanted it inside of me. I began to lap at her pussy, running my tongue up from the bottom of her slit to the top. I could hear her moaning even as her legs tightened on my head. Then I remembered what she had done for me. With my tongue I found the hard little nub of her clitoris. I popped it into my mouth, swirling my tongue over it. I felt her body get rigid against mine. I kept her clit in my mouth, moving my tongue over it, making my tongue hard then soft. I slipped my tongue under the hood of her clitoris, rubbing it gently. I felt her wet pussy dripping onto my chin as her body rocked back and forth. Finally, she let out a loud screech and I felt her entire body tense. "Oh fuck me Ella!" my biological mother moaned and a surprisingly large amount of liquid shot from her pussy, drenching my face and covering my breasts. Then her body went limp. I carefully slid her legs off of my shoulders and she lay in a panting heap on the bed, looking gorgeous. I got down on the bed next to her and sort of curled up around her, with my leg draped over hers and my head resting against her massive breasts. I felt her hand stroking my hair and I could feel her heart beating in my ear. I felt her shift slightly and when I opened my eyes her nipple was near my face. I opened my mouth and took the erect teat into my mouth. I sucked on it, like a baby would. I was suckling at my birth mother's breast, while she stroked my back and hair and moaned softly. My pussy was lying against Tiffany's leg. I didn't even realize that I was doing anything, but I started to grind my clit against her leg while I sucked. I could feel the tension building again and that was the first instance that I realized what I was doing. "Good girl," Tiffany whispered and I started to rub against her harder. Her leg felt so smooth and warm. And her nipple tasted dense and warm. Her breast was soft again my face. Then the feeling came again. I moaned loudly around Tiffany's breast, but I kept the nipple in my mouth. And that world stopping pulsation was on me again. It burst like an electric shock from my pussy, almost stronger before. I felt Tiffany's arms around me, holding me tight while my body shook and my voice screamed into her breast. And then finally, I stopped. And Tiffany and I just lay in bed, breathing heavily. For the first time since Tiffany took her clothes off, I thought about what was going on. The sudden realization of the gravity of the situation shocked me. But not as much as I felt it should have. I knew that I'd just had sex. I knew that I'd lost my virginity to the woman who'd birthed me. But it didn't feel entirely sexual. It felt like I was finally getting love from the woman who'd made me. I guess I didn't feel as dirty as maybe I should have. "I love you Ella," Tiffany said, "I've always loved you and I am sorry. I wish I knew an easier way to say that, but I don't. Sex is all I am really good for." "It's okay Tiffany," I said, "I love you too." I said and I think that I actually meant it. And then we wrapped our arms tightly around one another and fell asleep. When the alarm went off the next morning, Tiffany slipped out of the house before my mother got home from work. My mother came to my room that morning. I was still naked but luxuriating under the covers, I'd never felt so good in my life. She saw me and smiled. "I am sorry again honey, I didn't mean for you to miss your game. I want to make it up to you," she said. "Don't worry about it mom," I said, "I found other ways to occupy myself." Chapter 3: Real Motherly Love I was sitting on the couch in my living room, looking out at the driveway. Waiting. There were tears in my eyes and I felt like they were about to start running down my cheeks at any moment, so I carefully dabbed them away with a napkin. I could almost feel my mother's eyes burrowing into me from the kitchen. She was concerned; she didn't know what was wrong. But I did. Tiffany had broken a promise to me. After she promised never to do it again. She'd called me on the day after we'd made love to make sure I was okay. She told me that she loved me again and that she was sorry for everything. And then she said, she said twice, that she was done letting me down. And that I could count on a promise from her like I'd count on a promise from my mom. And for a while that'd been true. Tiffany and I began to spend a little bit of time together. We'd never had sex again. That was more like an icebreaker or something, I don't know. It showed us that we had a connection, and allowed us to be comfortable with one another. Instead, we went shopping together and she took me out for dinner. She went to a football game with me. In general, we had a sort of big sister-little sister relationship. I told her secrets I couldn't tell my mom and she filled in the gaps in her life story. More importantly, she'd kept her promise by stopping, or at least seriously cutting back, on her self-destructive behavior. She stopped talking to this Carl character and she stopped drinking (except on the weekends). And while I would occasionally get drunken phone calls from her early on Sunday mornings, she would always apologize and she would never miss anything we planned. My mom didn't say a lot about it. I didn't know what she thought of the situation. I didn't know if she was happy that I was connecting with Tiffany or upset that I was forgiving someone who'd betrayed my father. But she didn't get in the way. She let me go with Tiffany and was supportive. But I could always sense that she was nervous, that she didn't believe it would last. And now she was right. In high school I was a pretty accomplished cello player. There was a small liberal arts college about three hours from my house that had an excellent orchestra program. I desperately wanted to go to that school and be a member of the orchestra. My mother had worked very hard to get me a try-out. If I did well I might even get a partial scholarship. The only day available for the try-out was a Thursday, so I'd taken off of school. My mother offered to call into work to so that she could drive me there. I called Tiffany and she said that she didn't have any plans for Thursday and would be happy to drive me. Knowing that my mother was saving up personal days to go on a vacation with me, I decided to go with Tiffany and let my mom go to work. I think my mom was a little hurt that I went with Tiffany instead of her, but I knew I'd make it up to her on our vacation. Then Thursday arrived and my mother went to work. And I sat down in the living room and waited for Tiffany to swing by. And then I waited some more. Then more. Then more. Finally, when my try-out was just two hours away, I called my mom at work. But she was in surgery and they couldn't reach her. So I left a message and kept waiting. Then the time for my recital passed. An hour later my mom returned my message and rushed home. But it was too late. I'd missed my recital. Tiffany had disappeared again. And I was looking out the window, waiting for her to show up so I could tell her off. My mom was in the kitchen, angry with me for allowing this woman to do this to me again. I knew what she was thinking; she'd been willing to take off of work to get me to college. I'd rejected her. Now I'd missed an opportunity and it was my fault and Tiffany's fault. When the sun went down behind the trees in my front yard, I started to cry. Not just cry, but completely fall apart. I dropped onto the couch and just let go to my frustration. How could I be so stupid? For a long time I heard and felt nothing but my own embarrassment and anger. Then I noticed my mother's hand on my back. She was gently rubbing my back and making soothing noises. "It's okay honey, we will call the school tomorrow and explain," she said softly and then cooed at me. But I wasn't even really upset about that. I was upset about getting betrayed again. "I'm so sorry mommy," I said and my breath hitched as I spoke. I rolled over and sat down on the couch next to my mother. She put her arm around me. "You didn't do anything wrong," she said and grabbed my hand with her, holding me tight, "I am proud of you for who you are. You are such a smart and beautiful girl. And the best thing about you, the absolute best thing, is how loving you are. Tiffany came back into your life and where I, or most people, would have told her off and never spoken to her again, you let her back into your heart. You don't deserve to be punished for that. I am so sorry honey." And then she wrapped me up in a big hug and kissed me on the top of the head. And I felt sick. She didn't know the half of it. "I shouldn't have trusted her," I said, rubbing my eyes with my balled up fists, "I am an idiot." "Don't say that. We can fix this. People understand. I will call tomorrow and explain. And if you don't get into this school, we will get you into another one. You are so smart, you will get in somewhere great," she said. Any anger she had at me was completely gone. She was just soothing me now, doing what a good mother could do. I felt ashamed. I don't know if I'd ever consciously thought about it, but on some level I'd been excited by Tiffany not just because of her attractive body and her outgoing personality, but because she was everything my mother was not. She was exciting, where my mother was boring. She was passionate where my mother was soft. But now I'd learned she was inconsistent where my mother was steadfast. My mother, my actual mother, the woman who'd raised me, deserved all of the love I had. Any love I'd given to Tiffany was a lie and I hated it. I owed my mother the truth. "It isn't just that," I said, my shoulders shuddering. I really didn't want to tell her this, but I had to let her know the depths of Tiffany's betrayal, so she'd know why I'd acted the way I had. "What do you mean honey?" She asked and I looked over at her. She had a look of grave concern in her eyes. Now I needed to tell her. I needed my mother to make it all better. "It isn't just this. It isn't just that she forgot about this. It's that she betrayed me again, in the most personal way," I tried to explain and she nodded her head. "I know that Ella. She did, but it isn't your fault. She..." She started, but I cut her off. "No Mom, you don't know. It isn't just that she abandoned me as a friend. Or that she betrayed me again as my birth mother. It's that..." I started and my voice faltered. "What is it Ella? You can tell me anything," my mother said and she sounded almost scared. "Mom I lost my virginity to Tiffany. I had sex with her!" I said. I felt light-headed as the words came out of my mouth. I looked over at my mother and she looked dazed. Like she'd been hit. Then she shook her head, like she couldn't believe what she'd heard. "Wait, what happened? Ella I don't understand," she said and then her voice trailed off. I felt her hand release mine and her arm fell off my shoulders. It was then that I realized what I'd done with Tiffany. She wasn't just some person she was my biological mother. I'd committed incest. I'd had an incestuous lesbian affair with my birth mother. My stomach turned. I was disgusting. I was like Tiffany. "Oh god!" I said and the tears came hard again. How could my mother love me now? Now that she knew how unworthy I was of her love, "I'm so sorry mom. I'm sorry!" I said. And before she could say or do anything I was up off the couch. I ran to my room in a blur of tears. I threw my door closed and locked it behind me. Then I threw myself on the bed and wondered if I'd ever be able to feel clean again. * * * * * It was about an hour and a half later when I heard the knock on my door. I ignored it; I didn't want to see anyone or anything. I was angry with myself and I was angry with Tiffany and I was scared about my mother. But the knocking persisted. Every ten minutes or so there would be a few gentle raps on the door followed by silence. Then, ten minutes later, another knock. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. Just as the knocking started, I shot up from my bed and threw open the door. "What?" I screamed, "Can't you figure it out that I want to be alone." My mother didn't even say anything. She just walked through the door and put her arms around me. For a long moment we stood there and cried while she held me. I was so confused. I was dealing with problems no one is supposed to deal with, let alone an 18-year-old girl. "Shhh..." she said finally, "I love you Ella. Nothing changes that. Any problems you have, we are going to fix together." And slowly she walked me over to my bed and we sat down. My mother's arms were around me again and she squeezed me tight. "I am so disgusting," I said finally and she shook her head. She looked at me sternly. "You are still the most wonderful daughter in the world," she said. Then I knew what it felt to experience unconditional love. I couldn't even love myself and my mother forgave me all of my faults. "I'm so sorry," I said and looked into her deep blue eyes. She smiled and I could see the smile in her eyes. "No. Let's not talk about sorry now," she said, "And it's Tiffany who should be sorry." I could sense disgust in my mother's voice when she talked about Tiffany. "I...I wanted it as much as she did," I said and I blushed. My mother didn't say anything she just nodded. Then she stood up from the bed and stood in front of me. She grabbed my feet that were dangling from the bed and swung them up. She pulled the covers back and gently tucked me in to bed. "I am sorry that this happened to you," she said, leaning over and smoothing my hair. I noticed the way her hand felt against my skin, warm and smooth. She leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, "Today has been a stressful day. I need to think about what we should do next. I want you to go to sleep and we can talk about anything you want in the morning." As she finished she stood up to leave. I reached out and grabbed her hand. "Mom," I said, "Please don't go." I scooted back in the bed and pulled her. For a second she looked like she was going to try to pull away, it was still early and she had things to do. But I must have given her some pathetic look because she smiled and lay down in bed with me. For a while I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling. I saw my mother doing the same. Finally, she rolled over onto her side, facing away from me. I rolled over too, so that I was lying against her back in a spooning position. I reached around her and squeezed her around the stomach. She reached back and patted my thigh and then held my wrist lovingly. It was a comfortable position and in a few minutes we were asleep. I awoke about two hours later. The lights were out in my room and the last drips of light from the sun had dissipated while I'd slept. It was dark in my room. I felt my mother's chest rising and falling evenly against my arm and I knew she was still fast asleep. I couldn't believe this woman. She wasn't even related to me, at least not by blood, but she loved me so much more completely than my birth mother. She was kind, and she was giving, and she forgave me when I was wrong. While I was thinking about this I nuzzled up to her neck and breathed in, smelling her fruity shampoo and flowery perfume. And I thought about the love I'd wasted in this bed. Tiffany didn't deserve to be loved. Anything I'd given to her belonged by rights to my actual mother. I squeezed my mother tight in my arms and she felt reassuring somehow. Warm. She didn't stir, however. She was fast asleep. Nature or Nurture? I thought for a minute about the last time a woman had been in this bed with me. The way that Tiffany's breasts looked when she'd pulled off her dress, the smell she'd exuded that filled my room and lightened my head, the way her rough tongue felt on my pussy, and the way she'd tasted. And now there was another beautiful woman in my bed. With those memories and smells in my mind, I realized for the first time in my life that my mother wasn't just the person who'd raised me, but a woman as well. A sexy woman. I looked over my mother with fresh eyes. I'd never really thought I was a lesbian before. Even that day with Tiffany, she'd just been teaching me how to masturbate and it got out of hand. Now I wondered, as my eyes glanced at my mother's glossy hair, the gentle swell as her hips pushed out from her thin stomach, and her long toned legs. Maybe I was a lesbian. Maybe that hadn't been a one-time thing. And if I could be sexually attracted to the woman that gave birth to me, why couldn't I be attracted to the woman that raised me? She was wearing a tank top and I leaned against her back, pressing my breast against her. And I kissed her shoulder. Her skin was hot and soft and she smelled sweet and tasted sweeter. My kiss was so soft that she didn't even stir. She just kept on sleeping. It felt good to kiss her, even if it was just on her shoulder and even if she didn't know. It felt right. I took the arm that I hand draped over her waist and slid it underneath of the tank top, feeling the soft warmth of her stomach as it rose and fell with her breath. I toyed with her skin and ran my finger around her bellybutton and still she didn't stir. I kept kissing her as well, kissing my way up her shoulder and onto her neck. My nose brushed her chin as I kissed. Then she moaned. And for a second I froze. I wondered if she was waking up. And if she woke up, what would she think? For a moment I froze, too terrified to move. Then I felt her breathing return to the same measured rise and fall and realized that she'd moaned in her sleep. For a moment I considered abandoning this all together. It had been a pretty substantial scare my mother had given me when she tried to wake up. But I was too ashamed to stop. I'd given some unworthy person my love. I didn't want my mother to think that I loved Tiffany more, just because Tiffany was my birth mother. I had to show my mom I loved her. I just needed to have this happen with someone I knew loved me and that I knew I could trust. So I kept going. I started to kiss her neck again, nuzzling into her and feeling the warmth of our bodies grow. At the same time my hand started to rub wider on her stomach under her shirt. I rubbed from the waistband of her pants up to the under wire of her bra, feeling her. My kisses kept working their way up her neck. I kissed her ear lobe and then opened my mouth and licked around the rim of her ear. She moaned again, but this time I didn't stop. Instead, I plunged deeper, sucking on her ear lobe. Then I grew bolder. I moved my hand up from her stomach, under her tank top. I felt the silky fabric of her bra as my hand moved on top of her. Her breasts heaved up and down in her sleep as my hand rested on her bra. The fabric was thick but I could feel the weight and the heat of my mother's tit in my hand. I squeeze it gently through the bra and my mother moaned softly. My hand moved farther and now I was touching the exposed skin on the topside of her breast, where the bra wasn't covering. Her skin was hot, sweating. She felt smooth and electric. I couldn't stop now. My hand slipped into the top of her bra. I felt my fingers brush against one of her nipples. It was hard and dense and felt sensuous as my palm slid over it. I rotated my hand over the nipple, feeling it grow harder. Then I squeezed my mother's breast in my hand. She shuddered in her sleep, but I didn't stop. I took her nipple in my thumb and forefinger and rolled it around, pinching it gently. My mother' breathing was getting faster. I moved my hand out of my mother's bra and shirt. Quickly, I pulled her thank top up so that it bunch above her breasts, I did it very carefully so that she wouldn't wake. Her bra was a light pink color and I was excited when I saw that it unhooked in the front. I carefully got out of my bed and walked around so that I was in front of my mother. She was laying right on the edge of the bed. I got down on my knees on the floor in front of her and reached between her breasts. I carefully unhooked her bra and splayed it open, exposing my mother beautiful breasts. Her areolas were about the size of fifty-cent pieces and her nipples were short and pink. My mother shifted slightly but stayed asleep. I moved my hands up carefully and put both of my palms flat on my mother's breasts. I squeezed them slowly and gently. I luxuriated in their warmth and ached with the way her nipples pressed into my soft flesh. Then I moved my hands away and leaned forward. I could smell my mother's skin and I closed my eyes. She smelled like our love, the ways she always smelled when we hugged. But it was tinged with sex now; I could smell that she was aroused in her sleep. My cheeks brushed against her skin and I opened my mouth and took her nipple inside of my lips. I sucked on her hard little bullet of a nipple, running my tongue over it playfully. I even bit it lightly with my teeth. Her skin was soft and tasted salty and hot. I swirled my tongue on the smooth skin of her breast. Then I moved my mouth to her other nipple, straining to reached it because it was lying on my bed. I gave it the same treatment, rubbing it with my tongue and pinch it gently with my teeth. The whole time my mother kept moaning. After a while her hips started to move in her sleep, thrusting gently while she groaned. I wondered if maybe, somehow she was dreaming about me. I kept suckling on my mother's nipple, but I wasn't done. I moved my hand down my mother's body, letting my palm slide across her flat stomach. I felt my fingers brush up against her waistband. She was wearing a pair of soft short pants and I lifted them up with the tops of my fingers and slide my hand inside. I could feel the hem of her panties, but I moved my hand over top of them. Her panties were silky and smooth and as my fingers slipped down the panties started to feel hot, then wet, then soaked. Through the panties I could feel a little bit of pubic hair, but it was pretty short. She was so wet that her panties stuck to her. My fingers brushed past her clitoris and in her sleep my mother's back arched and she sucked in breath quickly. I slipped my hand back a bit and then plunged it inside of my mother's panties. She was soaking wet and it was so humid inside of her panties I felt like my hand was in a sauna. I felt short, well-kempt pubic hair under my fingers. And then I felt her clit. My mother was breathing more shallowly in her sleep and I popped my lip off of her nipple so I could watch her face, make sure she didn't wake. I remembered what Tiffany taught me. I felt my mother's clit and started to massage it with the balls of my fingers. I swirled my fingers around it, gently but firmly. I felt my mother's body tensing, moving in time with my movement. I dipped my finger down into her hot wetness, sticking my fingers inside of her hot cunt. Then, when my fingers were sopping wet I brought them back to her clit and started to circle it again with my fingers. She was moaning loudly now, but her eyes stayed closed, still dreaming. I rubbed her for a long time; just feeling her body move under me. Her face looked so beautiful, so relaxed and at peace. Her lips quivered in ecstasy and I needed to taste them. I kept my fingers swirling around my mother's clit, but I moved my face closer to her. I could feel her hot, sweet-smelling breath on my face as she moaned and groaned around my finger. I looked at her full, pink lips and wanted them. I licked my lips, closed my eyes and leaned forward. I felt my lips connected with hers, the feeling was indescribably naughty. I melted into her lips and she kissed back, her tongue rolled along my lips, played under my teeth, and finally dipped into my mouth, swirling her tongue around mine. Suddenly, my mother's body tensed and for a moment I thought she was having an orgasm. But when I opened my eyes I saw her pretty blue eyes staring at me with a mixture of lust and horror. I broke our kiss, but I didn't stop playing with her clit "Ella?" She asked, "Oh god, what are you doing?" Even as she asked she moaned again. "I am sorry I have sex with Tiffany," I explained. I really meant it too, "I love you mom. I don't want you to ever think that someone could replace you. I knew that if I gave you pleasure; I'd make up for it. I'd fix it. I'd show you that I really only ever loved you." I said. It made sense to me; it was just so hard to explain. This was the only way to undo the hurt I'd done my stepmother by fucking my biological mother. "Do you want me to stop?" I asked, fearing what she'd say. "Yes," she said and she sounded like my mother. I started to move my hand away, ashamed. But her hand grasped my wrist, "Fuck, you can't stop now," he said and her voice was like a wanton slut. She needed it badly, I'd gotten her too far along while she was sleeping. I put my hand back between my mother's legs and touched my wet fingertips to her clit once again. She wouldn't make eye contact with me while I moved my fingers over her clit, I think she was ashamed by how good it felt and by how hard she held my arm and how wildly she wiggled on the bed. She was so close when she woke up that it didn't take very long. I just kept my fingers on her clit and I kept kissing her neck. Finally, her body started to shake and she got very stiff. She squeezed my arm so hard I thought she was going to give me a bruise and screamed. Not the low moans and grunts that she'd been giving in her sleep but an all-out scream. Just as the orgasm seemed to reach its peak she looked me straight in the eyes and kissed me deeply on the mouth. She pushed through my lips and teeth and shoved her tongue hard into my mouth. It was all I could do to breath. Then, just as I thought her orgasm was going to last forever, my mother collapsed in a heap on my bed. For a while she just lay there on the bed, breathing heavily with her eyes closed. I stayed on my knees in front of the bed. Now that she'd come I was more nervous than ever before. What if she was angry now? All of the sudden I realized what I'd done. This could be a huge mistake. "What just happened?" my mother asked finally, her eyes opening she sounded generally confused for a moment, then she looked down at me, "Honey what were you thinking?" she sounded disappointed. "You said not to stop," I replied, even though I knew that was a less than fair response. "That was only after... No that isn't... Honey we can't do what you just did. I know why you did it. But you don't have to...do things like that. I know you love me because you treat me with love all the time. You are 18, you know that isn't something that mothers and daughters do," she said in a slow halting voice. She looked down and covered her breasts and then brushed my hair out of my face and smiled. "I feel so confused mom. This is just so strange," I said and then I felt like crying. But my mother shushed me. She got down on the floor next to me and put her arms around me. "You didn't mean to do anything bad honey. This is Tiffany's fault. She has really confused you," she said and I shook my head violently. "No!" I said, "No she didn't confuse me, she made me understand. I always thought of you as my 'real' mother and I knew I had a biological mother out there. But I learned that I only have one mother. You are my mom. There is no one else out there to love or resent. It's just you and me. I just wanted to give you everything I gave her." "Honey, I will always love you. You don't have to show me like that," she said and she was blushing. I wondered what that meant. "Did you like it though?" I asked. She blushed even deeper and looked away. "I can't have liked it. It was not okay," she said, "Let me go get dressed." She started to get up, but I grabbed her wrist. "It is okay that you liked it," I said, "I mean that is one thing that Tiffany taught me that is right. It is okay to have pleasure. There is nothing wrong with that. You just had to teach me giving love is best when it is with someone you love." And my mother got back down on her knees next to me. "Is that what you've learned?" she asked and I nodded, "Well I guess there are far worse lessons." She said. "So be honest," I said. For a long while she was quiet, then she finally looked me in the eye. "Yes," she said, "I liked it. It felt wonderful. I haven't had...anything like that in a very long time. Thank you." She said and then seemed to think that ended it. But suddenly I knew what had to happen. I leaned forward and kissed my mother gently on the lips. For a second I thought she'd pull back, but she let me kiss her. She didn't kiss back, but she let it wash over her. "See it is just like saying 'I love you.'" I explained. "I love you too," she said and then she leaned forward and gave me a kiss, just a quick one on the mouth. And when she backed away I leaned forward and kissed her back. Then she kissed me back. She was smiling. And I realized that she HAD been jealous of Tiffany. Maybe not the sex, at least not consciously, but she was jealous of the time I'd spent with her and the love I'd let stray elsewhere. She was happy to have her little girl back, in any way she could get her. "Mommy, please show me that you love me too," I said. And my mother closed her eyes tightly. Then, when she opened them, her eyes were sparkling like never before. I'd convinced her to act. I was still on my knees and she reached over and pulled off my shirt. I wasn't wearing a bra and my big breasts and hard nipples were exposed to the cold night air. My mother leaned forward tentatively and then she took my breast in her hand and lifted it. She opened her mouth and plunged the nipple into it. It was a strange sensation, so backward and naughty, to see my mother licking my nipple. Her mouth was wet and warm and I arched my back so that the nipple would dive deeper into her mouth. She looked up at me from there, her eyes glowing. Then she carefully moved to my other breast. While she did this, she carefully grabbed my pants and I help her slide them off of my hips. I lifted my butt off of the ground and in a second I was completely naked in front of my mother. "I love you Ella, no one can ever come between a mother and a daughter," she said as she moved away from my breast. Then we kissed deeply, our tongues dancing and our spit flowing between each other's mouths. And then she broke the kiss. It had been so intense I felt a little bit light headed and I knew I had a stupid grin on my face. But when I opened my eyes she was gone. But I felt her soft blonde hair on my thighs. I looked down and saw the crown of my mother's head between my legs and she was laid out flat on the floor, her breasts squished against my carpet. Her hair tickled me everywhere, including my hard, hot clit. Then I felt her tongue. I threw my arms backwards and flattened my palms on the floor. I had to keep from falling over, the pleasure was so intense. She moved slowly and methodically. Her tongue raked up and down on my clitoris. I felt her nose buried in my little patch of pubic hair and my eyes rolled back in my head. She licked my clit mostly, but there were times where she would run her tongue along my slit, tasting my juices. Suddenly that same mysterious feeling I'd had with Tiffany was on me. I opened my mouth and a low moan came out. I shot my hands forward and grabbed my mother's head, and she kept licking. And then a wave of pleasure crashed onto the shores of my consciousness, covering everything in a heady foam, leaving me blank and oh so satisfied. My mother's had rose out of my lap and her lips were glistening with saliva and my juices. Her eyes sparkled and I leaned forward and kissed her deeply, tasting my own juices and this thick saliva in my mouth. She wrapped her arms around me and kissed back. I leaned back and we fell so that my mother was lying on top of me, our breasts mashed together. I could feel her bare nipples on my breasts and moaned. "Was it nice honey?" she asked when we were settled on the floor, her on top of me. "It was great," I replied. "Better than...with Tiffany?" she asked and I smiled. "A thousand times better," I said and she kissed me gently on the nose and held me close. And we lay there for a long time, the heat from our bodies keeping us warm. And we talked and we kissed and then, at last, we fell asleep on my floor holding each other. Chapter 4: One Big Happy Family I awoke the next morning tangled in my mother's legs. My room was cold but it smelled like sex. My mother was still asleep and I gently disentangled myself from her. I didn't wake her (I was getting good at that) and I walked over to the bathroom and got a shower. When I got out of the shower I saw that my mother had gotten up from my room. She'd even made the bed before leaving. My door was open and I almost closed it because I was naked and then realized how silly that thought was. I walked over to my dresser and put on a pair of black panties and a black bra. When I was done I threw on a little pink dress that fell about hallways to my calves. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled, I felt great. I was just doing my hair when I heard the doorbell ring. I honestly didn't think anything of it. I heard my mother answer the door and I heard muffled talking. Just as I was finishing up with my hair I heard my mother's voice suddenly get loud. I still couldn't understand what she was saying, but I could tell that she was very angry. In an instant I knew what was happening. Tiffany had finally showed up. I didn't bother finding shoes or getting jewelry, I just sprinted down the stairs. My mother was standing by the front door with her hands on her hips. She was wearing a bathrobe that was synched tightly around her waist. Through the doorway I could see Tiffany. She was wearing a mini-skirt and a cut-off t-shirt exposing her smooth stomach and bellybutton. It was clearly the outfit she'd worn the night before and her eyes were a little red. She was stopping at my house on her walk of shame. I was about to be angry, but she just looked so pathetic. I felt bad for her. My mother didn't suffer from the same weakness. She had her arms crossed in front of her chest and she was staring Tiffany down like she hoped that if she narrowed her eyelids enough laser beams would shoot out of her pupils and catch Tiffany on fire. I walked closer and could heard them talking. "I don't care if you have a drinking problem. I don't think that is a mitigating factor do you? In fact it is worse! You should not promise...your daughter...something and then not do it. Do you realize how much it hurt her to wait for you?" My mother was saying and I was proud that she was my mother; she was taking care of me. "No, I wasn't trying to make an excuse," Tiffany said. She put her hand on her head and I wondered if she had a headache from her hangover. She looked like she was sweating a little bit. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. I could still heard them talking. "What were you doing then?" My mother asked. "I was explaining why it happened. I know that isn't an excuse for forgetting about Ella. I just... I have really been trying lately to get myself together. But it's so hard..." "Is Ella not a good enough reason to keep you shit together?" my mother asked, "There are time when I don't want to work or I want to go get drunk. But I don't, because that girls love is more important that that. It feels better than that. If you don't feel the same way, then you don't deserve to come back into her life and pretend to be her mother." Nature or Nurture? "No it is," Tiffany said and I felt that she was telling the truth. This was really something she couldn't control. But that wasn't something my mother would be willing to understand, "Before last night I hadn't had a drink in weeks. I am trying, but I am weak. Ella is the only thing that keeps me trying." And I looked at her from the kitchen. She didn't see me, but I could tell from her eyes that she meant it. How could I cut her off if that was her only chance to get better? "Why so you can have s..." my mother started to say and I knew where that sentence was going, she was going to ask about sex. I called loudly, interrupting. "Here you go Tiffany, you look rough," I said walking up to the door and handing her the glass of water. My mother gave me an annoyed look. "I didn't know you were up yet," she said and she sounded like my mother again, not that woman from the night before, the slut. "Thank you," Tiffany said and she gulped the water quickly and then she turned to my mother, "You've done such a wonderful job raising her. Look, I wronged her yesterday, but today she is taking care of me. That's what you did." Tiffany said. And I realized something. "Don't..." my mother started, but I interrupted her again. "Hey mom, I was thinking about something," I said, "You know how I have like half of Tiffany's genes? If means that like half of my nature I got from her." "Right, listen I want to talk to you about this, but let me take care of Tiffany first," my mother said and Tiffany shrank back like she'd been hit. "No just listen mom," I said, "I have like the genetic background to do the things that Tiffany does. Like I could inherit being drunk from her or being inconsiderate." I looked at Tiffany and I saw tears in her eyes. I wasn't trying to hurt her, but it was true, "But I am not." "That's true," My mother said. "I get that from you. You taught me to treat other people the way I want to be treated and to treat others with respect," I said, "But I get good things from Tiffany too. Remember that stuff we... talked about... last night? You said you hadn't...had that kind of a conversation in a long time." I hoped she was getting the hint. "So?" she said and she blushed. "So maybe all Tiffany needs is someone like you to tell her what to do. Someone to be a good mother for her," I said and Tiffany shook her head, "Like a mentor maybe, not a mother." "I see what you mean," My mother said, and then I leaned over and whispered into my mother's ear. "And maybe it would be good for you to let loose a little bit. You liked letting it all hang out last night," I said in a hush and my mother blushed harder. "What do you want me to do?" my mother asked, looking over at Tiffany with ill-concealed disgust. I knew that I had to go about this the right way. "What would you do if it were me?" I asked, "What would happen if I'd made a promise to you that I didn't keep?" "I'd punish you," My mother said and I almost smiled, this was exactly what I was hoping for. I reached for my mother's robe and put my hands in her front pockets. She shot a glance at Tiffany and then looked back at me, trying to pull away. "Tiffany has been a very, very bad girl momma," I said, "And she needs to be punished." Suddenly a little light flickered in my mother's eyes. That same fire I'd seen the night before. She looked over at Tiffany and I saw that she was appreciating how lovely Tiffany's body looked. And also her maternal anger. She could punish this woman. "Get in the house Tiffany," my mother said after a long pause, "my daughter and I are going to teach you a lesson in respect." She said. Tiffany looked back at her car, as though she was going to run away. I knew I had to be strong. "You have to let us teach you a lesson," I said, "Or I have to cut ties with you. I have to know this won't happen again." Tiffany seemed to accept that. "Okay," she said in a hushed voice and then quickly hustled into the house. I had never punished anyone before, so I decided to just follow my mother's lead. She had that fiery look again and I knew that something good was going to happen. My mother started to walk to the living room and I followed her. I could hear Tiffany following me. My mother entered the living room and sat down on the couch. When I came in she patted the couch next to her and I sat down. Tiffany started to walk to a chair and my mother shook her head. "Listen, you guys both know I am sorry. I don't know what you are going to do, but I am just sorry," Tiffany said and it looked like she might cry. "We aren't going to injure you or anything," my mother said with a little discomfort about Tiffany's weakness, "just stand in the middle of the room there while I decide what your punishment will be." Tiffany didn't speak, just nodded her head and kept standing. "What are we going to do?" I asked my mother. "Just let me do the work honey. She is not going to hurt you again," my mother said and she squeezed my hand. I nodded. "What did you do last night?" my mother asked, "When you were supposed to be here?" "I told you, I went out and got drunk," Tiffany said, shifting her weight and looking uncomfortably at her shoes. They were pretty shoes, high heels that looked heinous. "I didn't ask for an unsatisfying summary of what you did. I asked you what you did. Start with when you decided not to come pick up my daughter," my mom said, taking particular relish in saying the words 'my daughter.' Tiffany lifted her eyes to the ceiling and sighed audibly. "Ok. So I was getting dressed to come here and my boyfriend Carl..." "You are still dating Carl?" I asked, shocked. She'd been lying to me about that too. "No," she said quickly, "Well... I was but not really. It's complicated." She said. My mother gave a little snort. "Whatever, just continue," she said. "So Carl called and said that he wanted to make up with me because he's been acting like an asshole. So I got changed into nicer close," she said, point to her current ensemble, "And I decided I would go over there, just real quick to hear him out before I went to pick up Ella. And when I got there he was real sweet and bought me some drinks. And I admit, I got a little drunk. Then I had to go to the bathroom and when I came back out I saw Carl pinch the waitresses ass. So I went over to him and yelled at him and he laughed and left. Then I was really upset, so I drank some more to calm my nerves." "Is that it? You just got drunk then went home?" my mother asked and Tiffany blushed. "No," she said and I saw tears in her eyes, "I saw one of Carl's friends at the bar and I decided to get back at him. So I convinced Carl's friend to... to let me give him a blowjob." I was disgusted. Tiffany was such a terrible person when she drank. "Did you go home with him? Is that why you didn't change?" My mother asked. Tiffany shook her head. "I blew him in the bathroom," she said and she was sobbing now. "Then why didn't you change clothes before you came here?" "I didn't go home. I felt so disgusted after Carl's friend came in me that I went and got even drunker. I woke up this morning in a stranger's bed. My roommate had to come find me." Even my mother's angry face almost fell for a moment. It was clear this woman had issues. "So you missed taking my daughter to her try out because you got drunk and had sex with two different men, one an acquaintance and one a complete stranger. Is that about the long and the short of it?" My mother asked coolly. "Yes," Tiffany mumbled. She crossed her arms tight across her breasts and desperately looked like she wanted to sit down. "Take your clothes off, they stink," my mother said. Tiffany gaped at her for a moment, "Do it or leave." My mother said. Tiffany let out a little warble. But she started to disrobe. She quickly pulled her shirt up over her head and threw it on the floor. She was wearing a tight black bra with red lace over her massive breasts. She reached around behind her back and unhooked her bar. When she slipped the bra off her big fake breasts flopped out and her nipples looked hard in the cool air of our living room. She bent down to remove a shoe. "No, leave the shoes on, I don't want you getting too comfortable," my mother said. I'd never seen this side of my mother before. She never had boyfriends (or girlfriends for that matter) and I wondered if maybe she'd allowed motherhood to overcome some kinky or dominant sexual tendencies. Tendencies that she was deciding to indulge in for the first time in a long time. "I don't know if I can balance when I take my skirt off," Tiffany said in a whisper. My mother didn't respond and it was clear that she didn't care about Tiffany's difficulties. Tiffany huffed, but she unzipped her skirt and let it fall in a heap between her legs. Finally she precariously balanced herself, holding onto the back of a chair, while she slipped first one leg, then the other out of her little pink panties. Then she was standing naked in my living room. She was just as beautiful as I remembered and my eyes devoured her. Suddenly she felt modest and placed one arm across her nipples and one between her legs. "Get over here," my mother said and Tiffany walked towards us. When she got next to us my mother quickly grabbed Tiffany's hair and pulled her down. Then Tiffany was lying across my mother's lap. Her head was actually resting on my leg, but she was face down. Her ass was up in the air. "What the hell are you doing?" Tiffany said and squirmed a little. My mother applied some pressure to Tiffany's back and held her down. "Stop moving," my mother said and Tiffany got very still, "Are you sorry for breaking your promise?" my mother asked. "Yes," Tiffany said, her voice muffled against my skin. Suddenly there was a loud crack and I heard Tiffany scream into my leg. I turned and looked. My mother's hand was resting on Tiffany's bare ass. My mother had just spanked my biological mother! "Are you sorry that you made her cry?" "Yes!" And then another loud smack that seemed to reverberate through the house. Tiffany seemed to try to crawl into my lap to get away from her beating. I could feel her hot, soft breasts brushing against my leg. But my mother pulled her back. "Are you sorry for possibly costing her an opportunity to go to her preferred college?" "Yes!" and then another more vicious smack. But Tiffany wasn't trying to move away anymore. She was taking her spanking now, accepting that she'd earned it. "Are you sorry for treating my daughter like she is less important than your own petty and disgusting desires?" My mother said. "Oh god yes!" Tiffany moaned and I wondered if she liked the punishment more than she hated it. "Are you sorry that you tried to get between me and my daughter?" my mother asked and I was surprised. I'd never really thought of it like that. "I am," Tiffany said, confirming my mother's fears. This time the smack was very, very hard. My mother brought her hand back and it looked red and swollen, I couldn't imagine what Tiffany's ass looked like. Tiffany looked up from the couch, and her eyes were red and she was clearly in pain. I smoothed her hair out of her face and gave her a tentative smile. She was taking her punishment; I had to give her credit for that. "Get up," my mother said and Tiffany stood. Her chest rose and fell at odd, hitching intervals and I wondered if she was about to cry, "Now pleasure my daughter." My mother said and my eyes got wide. "What?" Tiffany said. "Apparently the only thing you are good at is having sex. So, since you gave the worst of yourself to my daughter yesterday, you are going to give her your best today," she said as though it were completely off the wall. But I was so horny, I wanted it so bad. Right there on the couch I spread my legs and quickly worked my underwear out from under my dress. I could smell my pussy and I could see that the other women in the room could as well. Tiffany looked once at my mother to see if she was serious. Then she got down on her knees and crawled between my legs. She took the hem of my dress and slid it back, exposing my pussy. She looked up at me from between my legs, her big beautiful eyes full of fear and lust. Then she closed them and leaned it. I felt her tongue rub against my pussy lips and they felt hot and wet. I moaned. I looked over at my mother and she was watching the action between my legs intently. I leaned over and kissed my mother on the cheek. She looked stunned for a moment, then turned and looked at me and smiled. She took my face in her hands and leaned forward and kissed me passionately. I slipped my hand into her bathrobe and felt the little nub of her nipple against my palm. Her tit was hot and heavy and I squeezed it. My mother moaned into my mouth. All along, Tiffany kept right at work between my legs. Her tongue moved up and down my slit, tasting my juices. She spent most of her time sucking and prodding my clitoris. My body grew tight and rigid as she worked. Finally, after working me up as hot as she could, she slipped one little finger into my pussy. The feeling was a rush. She kept her lips smack on my clit. My kisses grew more intense with my mother; I kept pushing my tongue deeper and deeper into her mouth. As the orgasm I sensed building inside of me reached a shattering climax I bit down hard on my mother's lip and I cried out from behind my teeth. "OH FUCK" I screamed. And then the orgasm broke in a torrent of pleasure and release. My legs shook around Tiffany's head as the violent orgasm finally subsided. I released my bite on my mother's lip and she pulled it back, smiling. "Good one baby?" she asked lovingly and I nodded. We both looked down at Tiffany. Her face was covered in my juices and her own saliva. Her hair was disheveled. She looked gorgeous. She started to get up. "You aren't done yet," my mother said and she spread her legs. Tiffany looked up at me; I don't know what she was expecting. She crawled over between my mother's legs. She started to lean forward but as she did so, my mother rolled back a bit on her hips. "What are you doing?" Tiffany asked. "Eat my asshole you slut," my mother said and I felt my pussy getting wet all over again. This was going to be so hot and nasty and I was going to be allowed to watch. Tiffany didn't bat an eye, she was being trained to behave and she knew it. She leaned forward. I bent forward to get a better look. My mother's asshole was a little pink rosebud with soft white skin all around it. I saw Tiffany's hot red tongue lean towards it and then, finally, come in contact with it. My mother moaned softly. Tiffany began to gently lick my mother's asshole. I still had a hand on my mother's tit. I kept kneading it while my biological mother ate her asshole. My mother ground her ass into Tiffany's face, and Tiffany just kept on licking. I saw her tongue get rigid as she tried to worm her tongue deep into my mother's ass. My mother's breathing got more intense. She moaned loudly and I felt her becoming tense. I wanted to give her some release. I turned her head towards mine and I kissed her gently on my mouth. Her tongue instantly plunged into my mouth and I tasted her thick, sweet saliva. I moved my hand down my mother's body, across the bottom of her breasts, then over her bellybutton, through her pubic mound, until I reached her pussy. I could feel Tiffany's hair between my mother's legs. I put my finger on the little button of my mother's clit. Her tongue grew hard in my mouth. I sucked on it and she moaned. I broke our kiss and slid down on the couch so that I could get close to the action. Lying on my stomach on the couch, I kept playing with my mother's clitoris. The smell was delightful. My mother started to play with her own breasts, rubbing her nipples. I looked down and saw Tiffany, still tonguing my mother' asshole, licking it and driving her tongue deep inside. I kept my fingers on her clit the whole time. Finally, my mother let out a loud scream and I felt her hand grab my arm in a vice-like grip as she moaned. Then she flopped down on the couch, winded. Tiffany crawled out from between my mother's legs and sat down on the floor. She looked up at us expectantly. Her legs where apart and I could see that her pussy was soaked. She must've been so horny, but she was waiting to see what my mother told her to do. I moved so that I was sitting next to my mother on the couch. She was panting with her eyes closed. I got up to her ear and whispered. "Hey mom, I think that we have punished her enough." I said. "No," my mom whispered, holding onto the grudge. "If she doesn't learn that if she takes responsibility for her actions that we will forgive her, then she will stop taking responsibility for her actions," I said. My mother's eyes opened and she smiled at me. "Sometimes you are a very wise girl," she said and I blushed, "what do you have in mind?" I didn't say anything. I just stood up and flipped my dress up over my head. I quickly unhooked my bra and let my breasts free. I walked over to Tiffany and got down on my knees next to her. I could smell pussy and ass on her face and she was still sticky from pleasuring my mother and me. I leaned forward and kissed her. Our lips met and our tongues danced together. I could taste my cum, my mom's ass, and Tiffany's spit in my mouth and I loved it. But I broke the kiss. "Are you really sorry," I asked and she nodded, "I forgive you, but you have to start learning from your mistakes." I said and then I reached between her legs and put my hand on her clit. Her whole body went hard. She didn't say anything, but she smiled at me, "Unless you don't think you can handle that..." I said and moved my fingers away from her clit. 'NO!" Tiffany said, "No you are right, I am sorry," she said. And then my fingers were back between her legs. I looked over at the couch. My mother nodded. Then she stood and took off her messy bathrobe and threw it on the floor. She walked over to my biological mother and got down on her knees on the other side of her. She took Tiffany's head in her hand. "You are important to my daughter, so you are important to me. But know now that I am the boss. When you are here, or when it concerns my daughter you will do what I say when I say it," my mother said. Tiffany nodded nervously. Then my mother leaned into her and kissed her passionately on the lips. I stopped what I was doing and watched. Here they were, the woman who'd given birth to me and given me my genes and the woman that raised me and taught me how to live, kissing one another. And I had brought them together. After a long while, my mother broke the kiss. Gently she eased Tiffany onto her back. Then she looked at me, "Ella honey come up here," she said. And I did as I was told. She pulled me on top of Tiffany so that my legs were straddling her head. My pussy was just a few short inches from Tiffany's face. Then my mom moved away. I looked down at Tiffany's eyes and she looked shocked. But even though I couldn't see her mouth, I sensed that she was smiling. I looked back at my mother, to figure out exactly what she was doing. And to my surprise (and delight) I saw that her head was in between my biological mother's legs. I could see her tongue out as she gently lapped at the Tiffany's clit. I sagged down now, putting my cunt right on Tiffany's nose. Tiffany felt hot and excited, and her tongue raced over me. She licked all the way from my asshole up to my clit, her tongue wide and broad and hot. Sometimes her nose tickled my clit. I kneaded my breasts with my hands, and arched my back, moaning. I could feel Tiffany quickly reaching an orgasm. My mother was giving Tiffany's clitoris no rest. Suddenly, Tiffany's hands reached up and grabbed my hips, pulling me hard. I could hear her moaning around my cunt. The vibrations of her moan felt incredible, and suddenly I felt myself cumming as well. The orgasm came quickly but it receded slowly and my entire body felt sensitive and vibrated. Finally, I slumped to the side, satisfied. Tiffany lay panting on the ground as well. My mother knelt in front of both of us, her face slick with cum. She was looking at us with a kind of strange glint in her eye. I wonder if maybe she noticed some sort of family resemblance then, or maybe she just realized how vulnerable Tiffany was when she was splayed out in that position. Whatever the reason, she came to a sudden decision.