The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The house described

The house, one of those old, decrepit Victorian manors with three stories, pointed gables jutting proudly along the front, sides, and back, ornate woodwork hanging from corners and along the eaves, so common in the northeastern provinces of our country, stood atop the round peak of Moonlight Hill, surrounded on all sides by a thick wood, penetrated by a single narrow lane running in a long, winding incline to the barren ground before the wide and rotting oak doors of the manor.

Kids from nearby towns and villages used to frequent the hill at night, scaring each other with tales of hauntings, dreadful animal-like monsters, and even more dreadful witches, crones chanting in the dark corners and recesses of the abandoned house, illuminated only by the ghostly rays of the moon rising over the hill. Sometimes, in the manner of children and adolescents, an unlucky, misfortunate youth, prodded beyond endurance by taunts and mockery of courage, would enter the partially collapsed doors of the house, hanging on rusting hinges, stand momentarily in what used to be a foyer, only to be driven out in a wild panic, arms flailing above his head, by the sudden cry of an owl lurking in a corner or the loud rustling of a rat or some other large rodent rummaging along the decayed base boards.

The raucous laughter of his peers would do little to assuage his fears, which only distance from the hill and the coming of daylight would fully subdue.

Time itself seemed to bend to the will of the house. Or the house seemed to play tricks on time, mischievous tricks and random. Local folklore spoke of lost wanderers returning home after an absence of many years, unchanged, unaged. Or visitors to the house, mischief-makers in their own right, would return after a day spent throwing rocks at the windows, years older than they had left, aged almost beyond recognition.

Most people scoffed at such stories, undocumented by any reliable account.

More time passed, and the house on the hill grew ever more derelict, ever more lonely. Though the human population increased in every corner of that province, and although settlement upon settlement had been built, expanded, increased, flourishing in trade, traffic, and the boons of progress, Moonlight Hill and the house on Moonlight Hill remained in solitude, curiously, almost mysteriously exempt from the world of commerce swirling just beyond its marches.

Visitors to it waned. Fewer and fewer youths, perhaps bored of its decay, disenchanted by its lack of evident enchantment, discouraged by the forbidding road, now full of holes, and broken up by large rocks, some of them almost boulder-sized, thrusting up from the bedrock below, bothered even approaching the old manse, more interested now in the new cinema and the promise of sin, the new music coming from the radios in their automobiles, and the wonderful new colors on the lips of the girls in their classes.

Rumor of the house lingered, then slowly dissipated, but sometimes, sometimes an old, wandering hobo the locals called Ol’ Jare, used to fleeing the company of men, drunk on the freedom of his own misery and the bottle of gin he carried in his hand, would stop and drink the final drops of his bittersweet liquor, leaning against a majestic elm whose wide, leafy boughs partly obscured the light pouring from a silvery, full moon. Deep in his own thoughts, he would sometimes, sometimes, hear beyond the soft rustling of the nightly woods around him the quiet chiming voices of girls, tinkling in the moonlight, laughing or seeming to laugh at him from the margins of the night. Then it would come, softly, quietly, almost inaudibly at first, the rising song of a woman’s voice, a tremulous voice in an almost tenor’s vibrato, lifting to sing her girls to bed, a lullaby of tender love tinged with an aching loss. The hobo, listening, would fall into tears, his heart breaking at some memory of a time which had been stolen from him.

Seasons passed, years sped by, and the house remained indifferent to solitude, oblivious of time.

Susan and the girls lost on the road

Though the rain had gone, the water on the asphalt of the narrow highway, if they still drove on a highway, reflected the headlamps in a blur of light that somehow only increased the obscurity. Dark limbs of trees overhung the road, and the light of the moon, waxing full, only came through momentarily in bare patches of night quickly concealed by the fast-moving rags of storm clouds. Susan, a mother in her late 40s, clutching the steering wheel of her SUV as she leaned forward to snatch a better glimpse of the road in front of her, muttered anxiously into the windshield.

Her two daughters, Lilly and Bloom, fidgeted in the seat behind her.

“God, Mom, where are we?” asked Lilly, the oldest, now on the cusp of womanhood, her birthday being little more than a month away.

“Just use the GPS,” Bloom suggested, not quite two years younger than her sister Lilly. Both of them wore their long, dark, almost jet hair, in intricate braids wrapped around their heads, encasing the pale, almost blanched, skin of their faces, both sharply defined, Lilly’s face being a tad longer than Bloom’s, her cheekbones a little less prominent and her mouth a little less inclined to a ready smile. Both possessed the same dimple above the round chin, and both peered at the world with dark brown eyes, eyes in which the pupils were hard to discern.

Susan, herself a blonde with a rich full body of hair, always saw their father in her daughters’ faces, a dark, brooding, slender man with fine, almost delicate features. A man who, given to frequent bouts of melancholic anxiety, now waited at home for their phone call, no doubt pacing the living room with loud, exasperated sighs. They had been gone for two days as Susan had gotten lost taking her daughters home from a visit with their aunt several towns away. They’d had a kind of early Halloween party, still a week away, at the home of her sister, who insisted on having an early costume party.

Bloom still wore her goth vampire outfit, the natural paleness of her face even more pronounced by the heavy white makeup. Blood red lipstick covered her lips, and dark mascara outlined her eyes, giving her a sinister appeal. Susan had balked against the costume, feeling it to be a little, well, too revealing, with a tight black dress encasing her round behind and ending just below the bottom curve.

She sat behind the driver’s seat, one leg crossed and tucked below the right leg, which she stretched to rest her high heeled foot on the console between the front seats. Bloom stared at her phone and swore.

“Damn it.”

“Bloom,” Susan cautioned. She didn’t like to hear her daughters use vulgar language. It seemed so rude. Low.

“But my phone stopped working. There’s no signal. No Wi-Fi. I was just texting Michelle.”

“Michelle’s a bitch,” Lilly chirped in. She didn’t know Michelle. But she knew how to rile her sister up. She’d done it the entire drive, until Bloom yelled at her to shut up and curled her body against the driver-side passenger door. She hadn’t spoken to her sister for over an hour.

Lilly herself wore a pink ball player’s uniform, an old-fashioned uniform from decades ago, with a billowing, knee-length skirt, and red ball cap. The logo on front of the shirt proclaimed Rockford Peaches.

“Michelle,” Susan once again remonstrated. She meant to win this battle. “GPS isn’t working either, honey. Not the car’s GPS or the phone’s. It’s kind of weird, really. Storm must have knocked something out.”

“I didn’t know a storm could knock out GPS,” Lilly protested.

“Well. Something did.”

“But where are we?” Bloom whined.

“Relax, darling. We’re still on the highway. I think. I’m sure will find a place to stop or see a sign somewhere. We can’t be in the middle of nowhere. We didn’t drive that far.”

But they might as well have been in the middle of nowhere. No cell phone signal. When Bloom checked for wireless, nothing showed up on her phone, and Lilly contented herself with looking out the window, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything, through the endless line of trees rising in the mirk. Then she saw it, just below the moon, now fully revealed as the last of the storm clouds flew by, a large, brightly lighted house on top of a tall hill in the distance, filled with windows glowing with light and illuminated above by the night’s sovereign lamp. It looked altogether welcoming and comfortable, especially after the long journey of several hours in heavy rain.

Susan tried one more time to check her phone but dropped it as she fumbled for it, feeling around for it in the console between the two seats. She patted the seat beside her and felt nothing, so she turned on the overhead light to see if she could spot it.

“Mom, look! That house over there, on top of the hill. I bet they have cell service. I bet we can make a phone call there. Or at least find out where we are.”

“I don’t know,” Susan replied. “It’s late, and they might not want any company.”

“But the house is lit up like they’re having a party. They won’t mind us popping our heads in. We’re just women. I mean, except for dork here.”

“Hey!” Bloom protested.

“I can’t find my phone,” Susan said, exasperated.

“You drive, Mom. Let me look,” Lilly said, leaning forward between to search for Susan’s phone in the light overhead.

Suddenly the figure of a man leapt in front of the windshield. Susan slammed on the brakes and flung the steering wheel to the right in a desperate attempt to avoid the man, who spun around hands up with his bedraggled, grizzled, unshaven face glaring bleary-eyed at the SUV. Susan heard a loud, sickening thump, and then the back of her vehicle lurched up, rolling over something thick like a log, but Susan knew it wasn’t a log.

In the instant before turning her wheel sharply, the man’s face flashed lightning-like in Susan’s mind. A gaunt, weathered face, marked by lines of grief and torment with thin, trembling lips on a face that must have at one time been fine and almost feminine. A brief recognition sped through her mind, disappearing as fast as the man disappeared.

Susan didn’t have time to think about it. Her vehicle veered off the road, striking a tree head-on before bouncing backward in a slow tumble down the steep incline of a gully at the bottom of which flood waters rushed in a torrent.

The airbag had already exploded, striking Susan’s forehead. She heard her daughters shout out, tumbling unbelted in the back seat. Bloom and Lilly struck the back seat hard on initial contact, and their heads struck the roof of the SUV as it rolled down the incline of the gully. A tree limb broke through the windshield, missing Susan’s head by inches as it impaled itself on the driver’s seat. Then the vehicle came to a stop, upside down in the gully, while flood waters filled the automobile.

Susan sprang into action. Her seat belt jammed, but she frantically pressed the release until finally, finally the belt rebounded, freed from its locked enclosure. The mother kicked the door open, fought the torrential currents raging around the SUV to get to the passenger door, now crumpled but mostly intact but jammed shut. Susan pulled on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. The waters raged and rose.

The window of the door was cracked. Susan kicked at it. The glass broke, yielding to the mother’s fury. Bloom was closest, but she was unconscious, unmoving and Susan quickly dragged her through the broken window, ignoring the slices and cuts made by the shards of broken glass left in the frame of the door. She cast a frantic look at Lilly, still conscious, bleeding, and struggling against the water.

“Help me,” Susan shouted. “Help me get your sister, Lilly. Wake up! I need you!”

Lilly came to life. Realizing the danger she and her sister were in she crawled through the broken window and helped her mother drag Bloom across the water and up the other side of the gully, whose wooded banks rose at a more gentle slope.

Susan slapped her daughter’s face briskly.

“Wake up, sweetie. Please wake up.”

Slowly Bloom regained consciousness.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Someone jumped in front of the car, baby. I had to swerve. I didn’t know I was driving so fast. We hit a tree and rolled down the hill. But we’re all right. We’re all right.”

The rain, though continuing to fell, lessened to a sprinkle.

Bloom’s forehead began to swell in a red bruise.

All three felt suddenly cold, exhausted, hungry, and aching. October was warm that year, but too cold to linger outside, wet.

“We need to get out of here, Mom,” Lilly said. “We need to get somewhere warm, dry, and out of these clothes.”

“That house is at the top of this hill, I think,” said Bloom, wincing. “We can make it up there. It can’t be too far.”

“It might actually be an old hotel or something,” Susan said, encouraged, remembering the lighted windows.

Lilly reached into her pocket to get her phone. Her pocket was empty.

“Our phones!” she exclaimed. “They’re in the car!”

Mother and daughters looked down the slope to the SUV on its back like a beetle. By now the water had risen perhaps a foot a more inside the vehicle, and their phones, which had been loose on the console or dropped when the SUV struck the trees, were lost in the water.

“My head hurts,” said Bloom. A terrible welt had formed and was reddening.

“I think I damaged my neck,” Lilly added, holding her head at a sharp angle. She twisted it back and forth, then swiveled her head around, then held her head erect again. “I’m okay, it just feels a little weird. Numb.”

Lilly’s legs were bleeding and gashed below her ripped and shredded uniform.

Too concerned about her daughters to worry about the sharp pain in her own chest, Susan’s grabbed them both and pulled them up the hill.

“We need to get out of this weather, for one thing,” she said. “Let’s find that house we saw.”

They tramped slowly up the hill, winding their way through the trees like wandering ghosts, pale and shimmering in the moonlight. The full moon above the hill poured its reflected light on the hill and the woods, and with the help of that light Susan, Lilly, and Bloom could make out a thin, black line of a narrow asphalt road on their left, just a few dozen yards through the undergrowth and trees.

When they reached the road, the rain ceased. The clouds broke up, scattering in the night, while the moon glowed in all its silver brilliance. Trees overhung the road leading to the top of the hill, but after about a hundred feet the road turned and they could see it clearly, the house basking in the moonlight of the hill, lighted up as if waiting for their arrival.

“Probably a tourist spot I never heard of,” Susan quipped. “Lots of people like to travel here from out of state. Especially when the trees turn. But that’s still several months away from now.”

Bloom yawned.

The three of them blinked in the cool northern air of the late October evening. A night breeze blew through the trees, and the foliage of the surrounding wood, still clinging to the limbs, seemed to rustle in a sudden welcoming applause as the leaves of the wood clapped together like many arboreal hands.

The porch of the house ran across the width of the front, and wide, solid steps led to two wooden doors, heavy and richly carved, brass knobs glowing golden in the light of lamps set high on either side of the door posts. The brass ring of a knocker hung from one of the doors, and Susan on a quick impulse banged the knocker hard three times.

The lady of the manor

The last knock barely dwindled to the fading memory of a thud before the door opened smoothly to the bright interior of the house. It wasn’t the bright interior that captured Susan’s attention, but the woman standing before her, holding the door opened wide for the blond mother and her two dark-haired daughters. The woman stood just to the side, her light brown hair piled high over her head and kept in position by a fine broad bone comb. Her garments shimmered around her slender body, a long pale blue dress with puffed sleeves, embroidered with fine and ornate lace. Her dress billowed as it grazed the floor, hiding her feet.

Altogether she presented the appearance of a woman from a time long passed, a long previous century whose era could now be glimpsed only in the oil and pigment of museum paintings. Susan thought of the paintings of Sargent and Cassatt.

Susan, wearing jeans, tennis shoes, and a light sweatshirt, felt suddenly underdressed and dirty. She glanced at her daughters, wearing torn costumes, standing on the wide porch bleeding and injured. Most all she ached. Every muscle and joint of her body ached.

The woman’s face was fine and broad, soft brown eyes gazed upon the world from the round ramparts of her cheek bones, round pommes tinged with blush and leading the sharp point of her chin below the short pout of her mouth. But when the woman spoke, the pout vanished in the wide, friendly smile of a good and honest disposition.

“Oh, you poor things,” the woman cried out. “Are you well? Are you injured? Have you been attacked?”

“We’re fine, I think,” Susan replied, “Just tired and bruised. We’ve had an accident, and we need to call for help. I really need to talk to my husband. He must be worried sick by now.”

“Please, please, come inside,” the woman gestured.

The girls stood dripping on the wool runner leading from the door to the broader foyer of the manor, almost lobby-sized, where a broad, polished stairway climbed to a mezzanine with hallways branching opposite each other to wrap the second story floor, protected by a polished wooden balustrade. The stairway turned at the second floor to lead to the third floor, a practical mirror of the second.

“You poor creatures, you’re soaked through. You must be positively wretched. Yes, wretched. We must remedy that, and we must remedy that directly. Come! You should bathe first, while I attend your sores. I will fetch some clothes, too, for you. You won’t be able to wear what you have on for dinner!”

“Dinner?”

Lilly spoke up.

“Mom, we need to call Dad.”

Susan held up her hands to the stranger.

“I’m sorry, Miss, Mrs. I’m sorry I don’t know you’re name. I’m Susan. Susan Carmichael. These are my daughters, Lilly and Bloom. Do you have a phone we can use? I really need to call Jerry.”

“I’m Miss Sainte Ann-Marie, darling. Carmen Sainte Ann-Marie. I’m so sorry. We do not have such a contraption in our house. Oh, dear no. Such an awful intrusion. But I do have nourishment. I do have warm rooms and soft beds. That’s important, isn’t it?”

“But how am I going to call my husband?”

“What do you usually call your husband? I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“But how can we get help?”

“You found help.”

“But my car’s stuck at the bottom of the hill, in a gully. We have no way of getting home!”

“Well. In that case, I will say that Mr. Moore is to arrive tomorrow with new stock for our cellars. I’m sure he would be amenable to getting you to town. Where you can make your calls. Will that be acceptable to you?”

Susan didn’t really see an alternative, and she realized she was beginning to sound ungrateful.

She held out her hands to Carmen.

“I’m so sorry, I know I must sound just awful.”

“Think nothing of it, darling. Let me take you to your baths.”

With that, Carmen drew Susan to her, holding her arm around her waist with one hand while holding the other in front of her. Lilly and Bloom, forgotten for the moment, climbed the stairs as they followed the two adults to the second story of the manor. From time to time they saw the lady of the manor lean into Susan’s ear, whispering in a light laughter.

The hearts and spirits of the sisters rose, relieved at the sudden change in circumstance. Lilly reached for Bloom’s hand and clasped it in her own. Bloom smiled. Lilly rarely showed Bloom affection. Not since childhood.

Undressing, bathing, and wearing new gowns

Carmen led the trio to a large bathroom with one large tub, clawfoot and deep, sitting in the midst of the room. A fire burned vigorously in a fireplace built into the far side of the room. The lady of the manor strode to the side of the of the bath where a tall narrow table stood, bearing a tall and wide white candle, unlit. The table held a drawer under the top, and Carmen opened the drawer to retrieve a box of matches from which she pulled a match, struck the tip against the side of the box, and lit the candle. Immediately a sweet aroma drifted through the room, suffusing the atmosphere with a tingling, exotic charm, relaxing and invigorating at the same time. Susan and the girls felt their minds clear as any lingering doubt or misgiving fled to give way to a happy compliance.

Susan peered at the bath. Incredibly, warm water already filled it, steaming slightly in the coolness of the room.

Carmen turned Susan toward and began to raise her T-shirt over her head.

Susan grabbed her arms, momentarily startled.

“What are you doing?”

Carmen smiled patiently.

“We must get you out of these wet and dirty clothes, mustn’t we? Now put your hands down and quit misbehaving.”

Susan’s hands dropped to her sides. Bloom and Lilly snickered.

Carmen heard them and turned towards the two girls.

“You two get undressed, too. You can’t bathe in those garments, silly, no matter how outlandish they are.”

Carmen turned back to Susan and lifted the shirt of Susan’s body, revealing her large, milky white breasts encased in a heavy bra. Carmen ran her fingers over the edge of the bra cups, evidently curious about the garment, her fingers touching the bare skin of Susan’s breasts. The mother sucked in her breath at the searing touch, almost cold in its heat. A brief, short-lived urge to slap her hands away shot through Susan’s conscious mind, but she remembered Carmen’s warning against misbehaving. Besides, the scent coming from the candle filled her with a renewed confidence in Carmen. The candle smelled so nice. And Carmen was so beautiful, so lovely, and thoughtful of the three of them, giving them the offerings of her house like that.

“You get in first, darling. Mothers are first, of course. I’ll go fetch your clothes while you bathe. But first I need to tend to the youngest. That bruise looks nasty.”

Carmen held Susan’s hand as she helped her step gingerly into the tall tub. Susan’s embarrassment at being nude in front of her daughters dissipated as she gazed at the two girls, now undressed to their underwear, their cute bras and panties, white with pink hearts for Bloom, innocent despite her garish goth makeup and black vampire outfit with its mini-dress, and a somewhat racier set of undergarments for the older Lilly.

The lady of the manor stepped to one side of the room, along the wall of which ran a wide cabinet. She stooped to open a door and withdrew a straw basket filled with bandages and cloths, a shallow earthen jar, and a small green bottle and a small silver teaspoon.

Dipping the cloth in a basin of water, she wiped the torn skin of Bloom’s forehead. Bloom winced.

Carmen bent to kiss her softly on her temple.

“Poor thing, I’ll make you feel better soon. This nasty cut won’t bother you for long. My Caliste taught me how to make this salve,” she said, showing Bloom the shallow earthen jar. She undid the metal clasps fastening the lid to the jar. She brought the salve to Bloom’s nose.

“Here. The scent is delicious, is it not?”

The scent of rose and something else rose to fill Bloom’s nostrils. She breathed in deeply and felt the pain of her bruise diminish to a dull throb. Carmen dipped two fingers into the pasty balm in the jar and spread the ointment over the wound. Immediately the dull throb faded to a bare irritation, hardly noticeable in the new emotions swirling through the mind of the adolescent girl.

“Here,” Carmen said. “Swallow some of this, and you’ll be absolutely good as new. If not better. Open your mouth, child.”

Bloom opened her mouth.

Carmen tipped the opening of the green, flask-like bottle over the bowl of the spoon and carefully poured a small quantity of green liquid onto the utensil. Then she stuck the end of the spoon into Bloom’s open mouth. Bloom closed her deep red lips around the silver spoon as Carmen slowly slid the spoon from her mouth and from between Bloom’s closed young lips.

“That’s better, isn’t it, my sweet child? You feel all better now, don’t you? Lilly, dear, be a honey and help your sister get undressed. And get undressed yourself, all the way now! You can’t take a bath in your undergarments, you wicked little children. Hurry now, I must fetch your clothes for tonight.”

Before she left, she gave Lilly a spoonful of the tincture in the green bottle, followed by another spoonful. A little of the liquid spilled from the corner of Lilly’s mouth, and Carmen brushed the girl’s lips with the tip of her finger to wipe the excess tincture. She pressed the tip of her finger against Lilly’s mouth, and Lilly opened her mouth, closing it again around the woman’s finger as she slowly sucked and licked the compound from the lady of the manor’s index.

“Good girl. So compliant. So obedient. You don’t even need to be told what to do, do you sweetness?”

Lilly shook her head. Her mind grew cloudy for a moment, dazed. Then the clouds scattered, and her thoughts were clear.

So compliant and obedient. She didn’t even need to be told what to do.

Carmen knelt down to inspect the wounds on Lilly’s legs. She shook her head at the depth of some of the gashes. She scooped more of the salve from the jar and spread it tenderly over the wounds, sliding her hands back and forth and up and down the bare skin of Lilly smooth legs.

“My neck hurts,” Lilly said.

She stood still while Carmen applied the salve to her neck, rubbing the cream into her skin with the tender touch of her soft hands. Lilly closed her eyes.

So compliant.

“Undo your sister’s braids, darling.”

Lilly opened her eyes.

Carmen’s lips did not move, but her song-like voice rang clearly in Lilly’s ears.

Lilly stood behind Bloom and began to carefully unravel the braids of her sister’s long, dark tresses. Bloom’s hair fell free around her shoulder, draping like a dark cape behind her till the ends reached the rise of her bottom. Lilly reached under the hair to unclasp her sister’s bra, which fell to the floor. Lilly knelt and, gently tugging at the waist of Bloom’s white panties with pink hearts, pulled her sister’s underwear to her feet.

Lilly slid the palms of her hands up the smooth skin of Bloom’s legs, obedient to an order that was more sensed than given.

So obedient.

Her hands caressed the sides of Bloom’s slender hips, and she felt her sister shudder in her hands.

She turned her sister around.

“Now undo my braids,” she said, turning her back to Bloom. “And get me ready for the bath.”

Her sister wordlessly followed her sister’s instructions, breathing in the perfume of the candles, warmed by the glow of the tincture she had imbibed, exalted by the heat coming from her forehead where Carmen had applied the balm.

As Susan and the girls watched Carmen leave the bathroom, they noticed how softly she moved, how graceful and sensual her movements were, the gentles sway of her behind as she stepped, the light of catching the diaphanous transparence of her garments, hinting at more than showing the gorgeous feminine outline of her legs, her thighs, her calves, the contour of her hips, and the proud width of her back as it held her bosom. Susan’s nipples hardened as she watched the diastolic and systolic swing of Carmen’s behind, her eyes transfixed by Carmen’s beauty and grace.

She turned to face her daughters. They too stared after Carmen, enrapt, breasts upturned with nipples erect and firm. Susan reached into the water to caress herself, then she realized where she was, what she was doing, and stopped.

Susan found herself wondering idly at the soft light of the room. Surely it didn’t all come from that one candle beside the bath? But she saw no other source. Her brows furled, then softened, relaxing. What matters whence comes the light, so long as it illumes?

Then she saw them, although she had not seen them before, had not taken note of them before, for surely they had not suddenly appeared. All around shelves built chest-high on the walls, dozens if not hundreds of candles were lighted, from short votives to tall thin spires of wax. All of them casting a shimmering light upon the bathroom.

Susan turned to check on Lilly and Bloom. They had been through such a nasty scare. Really, a close call is what it was.

Lilly stood behind Bloom, arms wrapped around the sister, hands flat on her abdomen, slowly drifting over her belly, continually caressing Bloom, who leaned her back into her sister, eyes closed and purring.

There was something wrong in the tableau, Susan thought. Something very wrong in the picture of her two daughters touching each other so closely, so intimately, almost lover-like in their affection. But Susan couldn’t imagine what could be the problem. After all, sisters should be close, shouldn’t they?

Susan turned away. She shouldn’t look. Sister’s should have their privacy. She should look ahead. Or not see anything at all. Just let her mind wander. After all, it had been a hard night, terrible in the last hour.

Lilly returned her mother’s stare, peering straight into her eyes as Susan when Susan turned her head away. Lilly’s hand drifted to Bloom’s groin, slipping in between the younger girls thighs to tenderly graze the folds of her sister’s sex. Lilly’s fingers parted Bloom’s hot and slippery cleft, so hot now, so wet with Bloom’s mounting excitement.

Bloom leaned against Lilly had parted her legs, letting her sister in. It felt so good, so right. She’d touched herself there, of course, many times. But no one else had. Not even Michelle. And Michelle had sometimes hinted she’d wanted to. But Bloom had never accepted the offer, if it was an offer. Michelle could be vague, full of hints and innuendos, and she cruelly mocked you if you got the innuendos wrong. Bloom hadn’t had wanted to get the innuendos wrong.

But now, oh god, Lilly’s fingers were so good. A searing heat rose in her groin as Lilly kept rubbing her.

All at once Bloom cried out and bit her lip.

Lilly poked a finger inside her, knuckle deep, entering her tight, so tight canal.

Bloom started thrusting against Lilly’s finger as Lilly held her up, her right hand around her waist while she fucked her sister with her left hand, using her middle finger to go so deep, so deep.

Bloom turned her head against Lilly’s face.

“I’ve only, I’ve only. I’ve only had my hairbrush there,” she panted at Lilly in confession. “The handle, I mean.”

But Lilly did not respond.

Her mind floated elsewhere, drifting in clouds of a gathering storm of lust.

Lilly’s right hand rose from Bloom’s waist to massage and fondle the soft flesh of Bloom’s modest breasts.

Bloom bit her lip and whined.

Then Carmen came back into the room.

She found Susan still in the water.

“Goodness,” she cried out. “Shouldn’t you let your daughters have their turn? Just look at them, standing there as naked as jaybirds, as nude as the day they were born. Look at them. Are they not marvelous? Are they not beautiful?”

Susan looked and smiled. Her daughters were marvelous and beautiful, and the pride of motherhood surged through her heart, swelling her bosom.

“Your daughters are so close,” Carmen murmured, outstretching her arm to help a dripping Susan from the bath. “Sisters should be close.”

Lilly whispered something in Bloom’s ear, and Bloom opened her eyes, looked at Susan, and giggled, nodding her head.

“Quickly now girls. Dinner is almost ready, and the table almost prepared. Don’t dawdle, although I know you two would love to! We have all night. All night.”

Lilly and Bloom stepped into the bath in their turn, each girl taking the other end of the tub, their limbs entwining, caressing, and touching each other under the surface of the water, while each other’s eyes were glued in ardent admiration on the other. Lilly had yet to reach the peak of her womanhood, but already her body filled most of her potential, while Bloom’s body, less developed, held the promise of the richness of womanhood’s voluptuosity. The tips of her nipples poked through the surface of the water as she sank further into the tub, the toes of her feet rubbing and tickling the side of Lilly’s torso, running slowly from hip to underarm.

Lilly shifted and laughed, struggling against Bloom’s feet. She hated being tickled.

Carmen wrapped Susan in a long towel, drying her body off from foot to head, wiping every inch of the woman’s body slowly, deliberately, sensuously. Susan began to tremble, her lips shook, and she closed her eyes to stifle a groan. She was so hot now. Carmen made her so hot. How? Why?

Carmen Sainte Anne-Marie held a sheer, luxuriously flowing gown before Susan.

“You’ll look so lovely in this, darling. I can’t wait to see how you shimmer.”

Susan bent slightly forward, and Carmen draped the garment over her head, letting it drop past her shoulders, and smoothing out the squared, frilly neckline, which exposed the rolling tops of her breasts.

She stood behind Susan and positioned her to face the occupants of the tub.

“Look, girls. See how beautiful your mother is. Doesn’t she just glow?”

Lilly and Bloom nodded eagerly, eyes shining and avid.

Susan’s hard nipples protruded from the gown, aching beneath the soft, thin fabric.

Carmen finally instructed the girls to leave the bath, whereupon she dried and dressed both girls in gowns similar to what her mother wore. Then she led the trio downstairs, again wrapping her arm around Susan’s waist while holding on to the other hand, murmuring from time to time into the mother’s ear in close whispers that could have been kisses. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Carmen’s hand on Susan’s hips drifted lower to rest up on the upper curve of her rump.

Entering the dining room

Carmen led them to the large dining room on one side of the grand hall of the staircase, stepping through two open, heavy, ornately carved oaken doors, richly polished to a burnished gleam.

“I’m not really prepared for visitors, of course,” she said, turning to face her guests and letting go of Susan’s body. A brief tremor of loneliness shook Susan, quickly passing in the light of Carmen’s eyes. “But it’s been such nasty, frightful weather. I’m so glad the rain finally, finally let up. It’s really a positive stroke of luck that yesterday was laundry day and not today!”

She held her arms across her bosom, seeming to lift her breasts above her forearms.

“Welcome to my humble abode, and please, please, have as much nourishment as you feel you need,” Carmen said, pointing to a long table with carved, sweeping legs ending in the claws of carven lion’s feet. Food of every sort covered the tabletop, porcelain or wooden trays, silver platters and bowls, and crystal étagères offered the guests every assortment of steaming meats, baked vegetables, warm loaves of bread and rolls, soups, and rich, colorful deserts, cakes lathered in frosting and cream, and sweet rolls. Plates piled high with fruits, apples, strawberries, grapes and oranges.

Susan wondered where all the food came from and why it was all there? Surely not for them alone! Had Carmen been expecting a party? Were other guests soon to arrive? Was that why the whole place was lighted up? Where was everybody in that case?

Lilly and Bloom breathed in the aroma rising from the table, rich aromas of sage, of rosemary, and other spices. The sharp sweetness of cinnamon and clove, nutmeg and ginger.

Dinner

And as the scent rose, light mood descended upon the table, swelling the hearts of the mother and girls the girls, already much relaxed, comforted, and relieved by the bath, the ointment, the scent of the candles, and the soft fabric of their shimmering gowns. The sisters began to giggle and laugh, poking each other in the ribs as they ran to the table to pour over all the sweet things, suddenly made ravenous at the vision of plenty before them. Susan’s own misgivings faded as she watched her daughters behave so merrily. She turned once more to Carmen.

“Are you sure we’re not a burden?”

Carmen reached her arm through Susan’s and led her to the far end of the table.

“Heavens no, dear. Of course you are not burden. Perish the thought! I have plenty.”

Carmen held the chair for Susan, pushed the chair in, and served Susan choice servings of meat and vegetables, all to Susan’s preference. She found all her favorite foods on the table, and Carmen displayed an uncanny ability to select what Susan liked the most without asking or even verifying with Susan.

After placing a plate in front of the mother, Carmen took her place at the head of the table as Lilly and Bloom finally sat down beside their mother, on the same side of the table, so that Carmen could observe them all in one glance without having to turn her head to do so.

The meal passed wonderfully, Carmen proved to be an excellent host, always asking the right questions at the appropriate time to avoid any unpleasant or awkward silence, Susan felt her mood lift, shaking off the worry and exhaustion of driving through such long hours of such torrential rain. She forgot about the accident, the strange, familiar face of the man running across the highway. She forgot about her damaged vehicle resting upside down in the bottom of a flooded gulley on the side of a highway whose number she also forgot. She forgot about calling her husband, calling Jerry, she forgot about going to town the next day to get help. She forgot about everything but listening to and looking at the enchanting woman at the end of the table, the lady of the manor, whose heart-shaped face beckoned and whose red lips seemed ever to hover just on the verge of blowing a kiss.

Carmen’s eyes glinted in the light coming from many candles and from the chandelier hanging above the table. A hungry fire burned deep inside them, a flame threatening to leap out and incinerate the mother in a fierce blaze of desire.

My god, Susan thought. That woman is so. God, I want her. I’ve never wanted anybody like I want her.

Masturbating for Carmen

A heat began to rise in Susan’s body, a stirring in her groin she tried to hide or at least ignore, an incredibly awkward and quite out of place sexual heat beginning to glow between her thighs. She pressed her legs together, squeezing her thighs together as she tried to follow Carmen’s conversation.

God, I’m so horny right now, she thought. And Carmen is so. Beautiful. Alluring.

Susan’s right hand dropped her fork in her plate and slipped between her thighs. Stop it, Susan.

Sexy.

She could feel the hot moisture gather beneath the thin fabric covering her crotch, the heat from her pussy cresting and ebbing in waves through the sheer cloth.

Carmen’s smile betrayed the knowledge that she, Carmen, knew exactly what she, Susan was thinking. And what Susan would soon do.

Go ahead, Carmen seemed to say to Susan’s mind. You know you want to. Your daughters won’t mind. They won’t even know. They’re too busy playing with each other.

Huh?

Don’t look at them. Just look at me and do it. Don’t be afraid. I’m sure you’ll feel good. I’m sure you’ll feel better.

And staring straight into Carmen’s glittering eyes, Susan felt her hand go to the fabric on her lap, she felt her hands gathering the cloth to her lap, pulling the hem of the gown higher and higher to her waist where she could slip her hand beneath. To touch herself. To fuck herself in front of this beautiful woman, while her daughters sat right beside her. She felt her thighs part, and she felt her hand slip below the hem of her gown, trail through the thick bush of her pubic hair, and touch the burning clit of her scalding, soused and sodden pussy.

Oh.

It was good. So good. But if she took off her gown, just raised her gown over her head and toss it behind her, then she could really get at it. It’s been forever since I. Since Jerry and I. Since I fucked myself at a table with a woman staring at me.

Huh?

Her hand snapped back from her wet fire.

But a voice in her mind told her to turn off any inhibitions. Inhibitions are so quaint, dear. So terribly quaint and useless. You don’t need them. Not here. Not with such lovely angels at your table. Go ahead. No one minds. No one is looking. And you want this. You want this so much, don’t you?

Susan, still looking deep inside Carmen’s eyes, lifted her seat a little off her chair. She shuddered as she felt herself pulling her gown to her breasts, hesitating to disrobe entirely, even after showing so much to Carmen, showing so much to Lilly and Bloom. That was different, Susan told herself. They were bathing then. You have to be nude to bathe. You don’t have to be nude to eat.

All the way off, dear.

Susan groaned.

She raised her gown past her breasts, jiggling free in the air of the dining room, and over her head, shaking her hair loose as she tossed the gown behind and laughed. She spread her thighs wide, each thigh hanging from the side of the wooden chair as she leaned back, thrusting her pelvis forward, and plunged her left hand back into its place in her hot crotch.

She flicked her throbbing clit with her forefinger and whined.

Oh my god. I’m doing this. I’m playing with myself in front of a total stranger, if front of a woman, and I’m so turned on. I’m so fucking turned on.

Her pussy was soaked. Sopping. Her bush was saturated in the juices flowing from between her puffy lips, swollen and needy. She listened to the noise of her fingers moving over her clit, spreading her lips, and entering her hole, the noise her fingers made as she fucked herself repeatedly, no longer even trying to hide what she was doing.

What am I doing. Oh my god, what am I doing?

Panic filled her mind, her heart raced, but she continued stroking herself, jamming her fingers into her wet canal, writhing in her chair, her eyes fixed on Carmen’s lovely hazel-colored wells.

She heard her daughters rustling behind her. She listened in horror to the wet sounds of kissing, of wet lips on wet lips, of open and dripping mouth on open and dripping mouth, she listened in a sinking horror to the slurping sounds of tongues being sucked and the soft rustle of gowns falling to the floor.

Susan jerked her head but didn’t break Carmen’s steely gaze.

Don’t look at them. Not yet. Don’t look at your lovely little daughters. Let them enjoy themselves. It’s been such a long day, hasn’t it, such a long drive, and in that pouring rain, all that rain coming down in sheets, it was just so hard to drive, wasn’t it. But you did. You did drive. And even after your accident, even after your accident, you brought everyone to safety. To the safety of this house.

Good mother. Such a good mother.

Everyone’s so safe now. Safe and happy. Listen. Listen to them. Don’t they sound happy?

Revulsed, disgusted with herself beyond words to say, Susan nodded slowly. Yes. They sounded happy.

Groans and murmurs rose from the floor behind Susan, but she did not turn around.

She suddenly heard the tinkling of laughter, the chiming sounds of little girls laughing behind a wall, or in a secret room somewhere in the house. Ethereal laughter seeming to come from the very air of the dining room. Carmen beheld Susan’s confusion and smiled.

Yes. I have daughters of my own. Had. Have. They are gone now. And still here.

Push your chair back, all the way and face me. So I can see. I want to see you. All of you.

Susan, no longer even pretending to resist, scooted her chair back, and faced Carmen, letting her breasts fall into the open view of their sexy, alluring, beautiful host.

Carmen, eyes still fixed on Susan, stood up.

Invisible hands seemed to slowly disrobe the strange and slender woman. Her dress, unlaced by unseen forces from behind, fell to the floor, soon followed by her petticoat, shift, and stockings, until the woman stood before Susan, ephemeral and radiant. The comb holding her hair up was removed, and her beautiful nut-brown hair fell in a sudden wave over her bare shoulders.

Look at me while you pleasure yourself, Susan. Look at me, my lovely Susan.

A new wave of excitement singed Susan’s nerves. Devouring Carmen from head to toe with her eyes, Susan jerked her hand repeatedly, faster and faster and faster, harder and harder and harder, into her pussy, her steaming pussy, so hot, so scalding hot now, and so wet.

Carmen’s breasts swelled from her chest, two glorious mounds of womanly charm and grace, two full, luxurious pears, dark brown areolas spreading at the tip, each tip peaked by a hard nipple, dark brown, two round bullets aching for the target of a woman’s mouth. Her hips curved in a pronounced swoop as she stood legs slightly apart while Susan feasted on the gap between her legs, Carmen’s crotch with its glorious tuft of nut-brown hair.

Susan spread her legs almost horizontally, the V of her parted legs almost a straight line as she dug two fingers into her sizzling hole, desperate to show Carmen how wet she was, how turned on she was, how on fire she was. Behind her, Lilly’s voice lifted up into a groan which soon turned into a whine, a cry, a plea.

“Yeah, there, Bloom. Oh my god, yeah there, oh yeah baby sister, there.”

Keep your eyes on me.

Susan continued to fix her eyes upon Carmen, her hand a blur of speed. Driven now by a need she couldn’t understand, inflamed by a desire entirely new to her, she moved a hand to her breasts, frantically, almost harshly fondling and squeezing one after another, pinching the nipples of her tits with fingers she made wet by licking, sucking them between her tight, wet lips. She raised a breast to her mouth and sucked on the nipple, biting it with her teeth.

Her body began to squirm hard, her hips jerked off the seat of her chair, the chair legs bumped hard against the wooden parquet, and Susan’s groans became the huffs and exhalations of a mounting climax. Suddenly she squeezed her legs together.

Spread them. I want to see. I want to see your pussy come.

Spreading her legs again, wide, Susan jerked and spasmed into her hand, her pussy thrusting relentlessly into her hand as Susan leaned forward and screamed.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I’m coming. I’m coming so fucking hard.”

Then Susan fell off the chair, exhausted almost unresponsive, incomprehensible sounds emerged from her open mouth. Carmen stooped over the prostrate woman. She reached for her hand and raised her, still shaking and at a loss for words, and held her close, wrapping her arms around the mother’s waist as she supported the distraught Susan.

“I’m so. I can’t believe. I don’t.”

“Hush, my love. You did well. You were wonderful. Come, let us go to my chambers. The night is still young, and we have so much passion to explore. We have the landscape of our bodies to chart tonight.”

“But what about?”

Susan turned, looked down, and finally saw what had become of her daughters.

Lilly lay on her side on the floor of the dining room, facing Susan, her head nestled between the opened legs of her sister, while Bloom’s head snuggled against Lilly’s groin, each sister busy in obvious oral pleasuring of the other.

“My god. What manner of place is this?”

Carmen said nothing as naked she led the unclothed Susan to her bedroom.

In Carmen’s bedroom

Carmen stood beside her bed, a large bed with a canopy draped by sheer, billowing gauze in a bedroom illuminated by hundreds of burning candles, some of them votives, some of them tall and thin batons, some standing alone, some stuck into silver holders and candelabras. The light of the surrounding flames cast wavering shadows across the bedroom. Wonderfully woven and crafted Turkish rugs covered the wooden parquet floor, and woven tapestries showing scenes of womanly love and carnal, Sapphic delights hung from the walls, where nymphs played in the water or dryads danced with each other among groves of oak and ilex.

A wide, stone-lined fireplace roared with a blazing fire at one end of the long room.

“Come, my love,” Carmen said as she flung herself onto the bed, turned over, and spread her legs before Susan’s ravenous eyes. “I want you to taste me, my darling. I want you to taste how on fire I am for you.”

Susan had no will to resist and no reason to gather a will to resist. Her own pussy burned, at once hot as a raging fire and wet as an ocean of desire, a fountain of many flowing waters. She burned, and her juices did nothing to assuage the heat of her loins. They burned like acid on the skin of her mound. She trembled and groaned.

“You’ve done this before, have you not?”

Susan shook her head.

She had not.

A short look at Susan’s life

Susan had met Jerry in high school, hard as that is to believe. They had married soon after graduating the university they both had attended. They had dated throughout their student years. Though they had had sex, and though Susan had enjoyed it, or assumed she enjoyed it, there was something chaste and modest about their relationship, about their carnality. They were good years for graduates and Jerry, who had pursued a computer engineering degree while Susan had gone into marketing, had landed a good position at a good company. Susan soon found herself with no actual reason to work. She also found herself pregnant with her first child.

So she stayed home, took care of domestic duties, raised her daughter, and then raised her other daughter, watched them grow up through elementary and middle school, steered Lilly through most of her teenage years, and started Bloom on her way through high school, when the accident happened that very night. She had never once stepped outside of marriage, had never once strayed in any sexual manner, did not read anything approaching erotic literature, turned the channels if anything more passionate than kissing showed on the television screen, and she certainly did not view pornography.

She had never gone down on Jerry, and Jerry had never gone down on her.

She was well-practiced in the art of indifferent missionary sex.

She didn’t even masturbate very often.

And certainly she had never masturbated openly at a dining table at dinner with her daughters sitting nearby.

Susan joins Carmen in bed

None of that mattered to her now. She hungered for Carmen, hungered for Carmen’s body, hungered for the taste of Carmen’s vulva, Carmen’s pussy, Carmen’s sweet, sweet cunt.

She never used that word before. She’d always hated that word. It sounded so rough, so uncouth, impolite, rude, and full of masculine contempt for the female organ. But now, as the word sounded loudly in her mind’s ear, she recognized it for what it was. Unabashedly feminine and hot, succinct in its longing, unerasable in its presence, naked in its raw monosyllabic power. Cunt.

She trembled to the point of aching as wave after wave of lust and desire flowed through her lust-ravaged body, no thought beyond that of pleasuring Carmen occupied her mind, no thought beyond Carmen’s needs flitted through her consciousness. Only Carmen. And what Carmen wanted. Because what Carmen wanted was what Susan wanted. And Carmen wanted Susan to taste her. Susan wanted, no, needed to taste Carmen. To lie on those soft sheets, to place her head between Carmen’s soft thighs, and to put her mouth open Carmen’s soft, luscious pussy, her wet lips sparkling in the light of many candles.

Slowly Susan climbed onto the bed, hesitating only because she wanted to drink in every precious moment, every precious smell, and every precious sight. Huge, fluffy cushions propped up the top half of Carmen’s body, her light brown hair, free of the comb, hung in opulent waves over her shoulders and over her face, half-obscuring her delicate features, giving her a wild, untamed, savage look, a fierce nymph of the fountains ready now for a love hardly distinguished from fearful struggle. Her large fleshy breasts fell to the sides, dark nipples on dark areolas partially hidden by her splendid hair.

Susan’s gaze drifted lower to brush over the soft flesh of Carmen’s belly, over the small well of her navel, and over the tuft of brown hair overhanging the mound of her vulva, exposed fully by Carmen’s legs, spread wide and easy, welcoming the mother’s stare, full of intense longing. Moisture gathered on the edges of her inner lips, wide extended labia inviting Susan’s view inward to the inner sanctum, partly opened, above which, just below the light brown tuft, the soft forest overhanging the sheer cliff of desire, stood the clitoris, proud watchwoman in her cowl.

Susan’s mouth watered, and she unconsciously licked her lips until she noticed the tip of her tongue sliding slowly across the top of her upper lip, sending chills of desire into the depths of her mind. The scent of Carmen’s arousal drifted from her center as Susan’s face near her mound, her pussy. Susan stopped to breathe in the pungent aroma, at once earthy and divine, the pure smell of womanhood, of female amorosity, intense and exhilarating.

Susan raised her head away from Carmen’s parted center.

Not yet. I have to taste her kiss. I have to taste her mouth, her face, her hair. I have to have every inch of her.

She bent down again, brought her mouth above Carmen’s mons, casually and briefly liked the hard nub of her clit before kissing the tuft of her pubic hair in a wide, open-mouth kiss. She felt Carmen tremble beneath her, felt Carmen’s sweet hands on her head, caressing her, petting her almost, lovingly stroking the sides of her face.

She moved her tongue over Carmen’s belly, tickling her belly button with the tip of her tongue, dipping the tip of her tongue into the tiny well, tasting the salt of her skin, the salt of her flesh. Her tongue swept across the plains of her abdomen like a wild Cossack mare, reinless and riderless. She swept forward and backward, galloped in circles, and tore across the soft landscape heaving below her, she pressed her cheek against Carmen’s ribs, listening to her beating heart, and brought her hands to Carmen’s breasts, pinching and kneading the hard nipples in her fingers, intoxicated and delirious now by the touch and feel of the female body.

She moved up to kiss Carmen fully on the mouth, and Carmen wrapped her legs around her, pressing the mother into her body, hold the mother against her in the grip of her thighs and calves. Carmen opened her mouth against the intrusion of Susan’s tongue. Susan burned, on fire. Nothing in her hesitated, nothing in her held her back, her brain raged in a withering firestorm of lust and passion. Nothing in her life equaled this moment. Nothing in her life burned like this fire.

Her body writhed against Carmen’s body.

Her hips gyrated and pressed against Carmen’s hips.

She wanted her so badly.

Carmen’s body drove her mad with desire for more, for the annihilation of all space between their two bodies, to extinguish all distance, all difference, to press her body against the body of the other woman so that no distinction could be made between the one and the other.

Susan’s tongue plunged into Carmen’s mouth, hot, wet, a scalding pool of liquid flame in the midst of which two tongues danced wickedly, triumphantly, two burning spirits made flesh and dancing in the heat of desire, dancing to the pulse of their self-cravings.

Susan’s pussy thrust against Carmen’s mound.

Finally, Carmen pushed Susan’s face away from her mouth, breaking her kiss.

“My god, Carmen. I, I never wanted anyone like I want you. I’ve never felt anything even close to this much,” Susan’s voice trailed off to a thoughtful silence.

“And there’s still so much more, darling. Take me in your mouth. Down there.”

Carmen gestured with her a tilt of her head.

Susan bit her lip.

This was it.

Her face taste of pussy.

She groaned as Carmen pushed the top of her head down, down, to rest against the side of her inner thigh. Susan breathed in the sharp, rich odor rising from Carmen’s center. But she didn’t lean in to kiss her there. Slowly she moved her head downward, kissing and trailing her warm tongue down the insides of Carmen’s legs, kissing and licking the hollow behind her knee, holding Carmen’s thigh in both hands, gripping the flesh of her thigh, as she trailed down to the bottom of Carmen’s right foot.

She pressed her nose against the sole, rubbing and nuzzling her face against the arch, kissing the tiny rounds of her insteps below the toes. Carmen wriggled her toes at her, and Susan suddenly engulfed the big toe with her mouth, devouring the toe with an eager and wild abandon, delighting in the feeling of the bulbous object in her mouth.

She had never sucked Jerry.

She had never sucked anything in a sexual way.

Now she wanted to suck Carmen’s toe forever, but so much more remained to explore, to taste, to touch, to lick and to kiss. She lifted her mouth from Carmen’s toe with a loud plop and kissed her way back up along Carmen’s other leg, her left leg, in an upward trail of her tongue until she reached the wide area of her pelvis, so open and inviting now, Carmen’s thighs spread so wide for her, for Susan, as she continued licking those fat, warm outer lips between Carmen’s cunt and thigh, tasting the juices pouring from Carmen’s pussy, tasting the salt and heat of Carmen’s flesh.

“Oh, my darling, yes. Yes, honey, there. Right there. You’re doing so well,” Carmen’s voice faltered, she seemed to hesitate, as if searching for the right words to say, “So good. So hot. So fucking hot and. Sexy. Yes, baby. Yeah, girl, right there. Lick my. Lick my. Cunt. Lick my hot cunt, girl, so hot and wet for you. Cause you make me so hot and wet.”

And then Susan could delay no longer.

She moved her mouth over Carmen’s nether lips, over the enfolded opening of Carmen’s sex, and kissed her pussy in an open-mouth kiss, tonguing the vertical opening from bottom to top, tasting the tart liquids, and flicking the hard clit shuddering against her mouth and tongue.

Carmen’s hips writhed and gyrated against Susan’s mouth, her thighs tightened around her head, and Susan spread her thighs forcefully with her hands, spreading her thighs wide to gain the full access of Carmen’s nectar-drenched love hole.

So good, so sweet, so tart, tangy, so amazing, Susan thought. Why haven’t I done this before? Why haven’t I had a woman before? Why haven’t I tasted the love a woman before this moment, before my arrival here in this strange house where my daughters and I. My daughters. The memory of her daughters licking each other’s cunts on the floor of Carmen’s dining room drove her to further heights of lust. She renewed her oral attack on Carmen’s pussy and pressed her hips hard against the bed covers, humping herself against the mattress of her new mistress.

Even now they were making love to each other in the bedroom down the hall. Even now they were touching each other’s young bodies, kissing each other’s young lips, and caressing each other’s young breasts.

Susan realized her daughters were now lovers, the sisters were now lovers.

Oh god I’m on fire, she thought.

Why have I wasted so much time?

But now she had her entire life in front of her, her entire life to spend exploring the rich treasures of female love.

There were so many women out there, out there in the world, so many women for her to enjoy and experience, to kiss and to make love to, to fuck, to screw, to have mad, passionate sex with. So many women. So many hot women.

The words tumbled through her mind.

She was a lesbian now. She was a dyke now, a dyke practically fucking another woman with her face, driving the woman to orgasm that she knew was quickly approaching. Carmen was going to cum. And Carmen was going to cum hard.

Suddenly Carmen rose up, flipped Susan over on her back, jerked her head face up, swung her hips over Susan’s upturned face, and rammed her wet pussy against Susan’s head.

“I’m fucking you, I’m fucking you, I’m fucking your lesbian face, baby,” Carmen cried over and over again. “I’m going to fucking cum on your fucking dyke face.”

And she did.

Carmen stiffened and shrieked, spreading her thighs wide and jamming her pelvis hard against Susan until Susan could barely breathe, as juices and secretions erupted in a cascade from the lady of the manor’s convulsive vagina. Carmen grabbed Susan by the hair and shoved her face harder against her cunt, mashing her face as she rolled her pussy against Susan’s mouth, jamming her clit against Susan’s mouth. Finally she let go, and slumped to the side, where she rolled over and lay on her back, shuddering, exhaling, and making strange sounds that might have been laughter.

“Let me catch my breath, darling. Then I will do the same for you. I will show you the same love you showed me. And more. So much more.”

Carmen turned over to gently caress and stroke Susan’s face and neck, running the palm of her hand along the curving slope of Susan’s shoulder and bicep as the mother turned on her side to face her new lover.

“I wish we could do this forever,” Susan sighed.

“Forever is a long time,” Carmen replied.

Carmen and Susan continue to make love

The night passed and the moon rose higher until it began its long western decline. Carmen and Susan continued to make insatiable love. Susan tried positions and acts she never knew existed, she pressed her pussy against Carmen’s pussy, she squatted over Carmen’s face, and when Carmen brought her asshole to Susan’s mouth, Susan knew to lick and to taste. Not one inch of either woman’s body went untouched, unexplored, untasted, or unloved.

The one wrenched orgasm after orgasm from the other and vice versa.

Susan groaned and screamed, moaned and shrieked, murmured and cried, until only guttural noises emerged from her raw and ravaged throat.

And when Susan thought they’d done everything and that there were no more worlds of their flesh left to conquer, when she hoped to fall back against the rumpled sheets and collapse exhausted against the scattered cushions, Carmen rose majestically from the bed, took Susan by the arm and led her down the hall to the bedroom where Lilly and Bloom lay.

The oaken door was open.

Susan, at Carmen’s urging, goes to Lilly and Bloom

The bedroom resembled Carmen’s bedroom. Somewhat smaller, many candles lighted the room, and a canopy bed with sheer gauze curtains stood against one wall. A blazing fire in fireplace set into the wall on the far side of the room warmed the room against the chill October night.

Bloom and Lilly lay naked on the bed, legs entwined, arms wrapped around each other. Lilly lay on her back, while Bloom lay against on her side, showing her small, round buttocks to Carmen and Susan. She had thrown her left leg, bent, over Lilly’s right thigh, and Susan could see Bloom’s sex, labia now extended wide and gaping through recent enjoyment. Lilly left leg was parted a little from her right, her vagina showing through the bush of her pubic hair, trimmed in a triangle above the mound, but extending in a thickish tuft along either side of her vagina on the puffy flesh of her outer labia.

Lilly’s breasts, smaller than Susan’s or Carmen’s, fell flat to the sides. Her nipples and areolas were lightly tinted, a darker flesh color against the pale skin of her bosom.

Both daughters seemed asleep.

Carmen stood behind Susan and wrapped her arms around her, cradling her breasts and then embracing the woman at the waist.

“Go in to them,” she whispered in her ear, kissing the lobe with her soft lips. “Love them like you loved me tonight.”

“I can’t,” Susan protested. “I won’t.”

She leaned against Carmen while the lady of the manor caressed her breasts with one hand, pinching her nipples between her fingers, while stroking her vaginal lips with the other one, driving her fingers between the folds of Susan’s pussy, so used now to the touch of Carmen’s fingers, so used to it, and growing wet and hot again, so hungry for more.

Oh god, she’s relentless, Susan thought. She won’t stop.

Susan spread her thighs, inviting Carmen to go further, to go deeper, she moaned as she watched her daughter Lilly stir in her sleep.

Oh god, if she sees me like this.

She tried to turn around, to face Carmen, to beg Carmen to let her go, but Carmen held her firm, grasping her breast and pinching her tit harshly until Susan let out a hushed yelp.

Carmen’s warm, wet, soft lips flickered against Susan’s ear, then brushed the back of her neck, kissing her lightly as she followed a line of kisses down the back of neck and along the line of her shoulder. She brought her mouth again to Susan’s ear.

“Go to them, darling. Look at them. So naked, so exposed, so lovely. Their cute little cunts open and revealed for you, for their mother. So. Hot. So. Sexy. So fucking sweet. Don’t you want to kiss their little pussies, darling? Don’t you want to kiss their tender little breasts, so inviting, so soft, so much in waiting for your touch, your mouth, your hot and lovely mouth?”

The kisses along her back were driving her crazy, driving Susan mad, the fingers in her boiling pussy remorseless in their ministrations, the hand caressing her breasts ceaseless in their devotion, sometimes soft, sometimes ungentle, always present, always touching her, making her body surge.

“I can’t, Carmen. I won’t.”

A light, tinkling laughter chimed softly, as if coming through the floor or through the walls of some lost and forgotten room. The very air sounded with it, somehow at once distance and clear.

“You can,” Carmen replied, pushing her forward firmly. “You will.”

Susan enters the bedchamber of her daughters

Susan seemed to float over the wooden floor of the bedchamber, her fleet gliding smoothly over the surface of the polished parquet. Carmen’s hands flowed over her body in an endless procession of sensual, erotic massages, caresses, brushes, and light strokes. Her fingers glided over Susan’s saturated pussy, her hands massaged and kneaded Susan’s tremoring breasts, her sensitive nipples almost rock-hard now, and kisses fluttered and lighted upon the bare skin of her warm neck.

Susan groaned, collapsing against Carmen behind her, but Carmen urged her relentlessly forward, forward to the repine and waiting forms of her daughters intertwined upon the grandiose bed.

This is, she thought, this is, this should be, so wrong, so wrong.

An erotic heat coursed through the woman’s veins.

Oh my god, Bloom’s pussy is so.

Carmen whispered in her ear.

“Hot.”

Sharp teeth tugged gently at her lobe and let go. Susan shivered in the warm breath blowing against the back of her neck.

“Go to her. Love her. Make love to her. Show her how a mother can love a daughter.”

Susan reached the edge of the bed and stopped, resisting Carmen to point of faltering, slumping against the mattress covered by fine sheets and soft bedding. She held her hands firmly against the bed, refusing Carmen, but the hand on her back pushed her forward, and the mother tumbled, naked, to join the nude lovers in the midst of the bed.

Carmen’s voice resonated in the bedroom.

“Kiss her in the place you kissed me, darling. Kiss her on her pretty cunt. See how ready and open she is for you.”

Susan’s will snapped, her resistance broke, an irresistible lust washed over her mind, flooding any remaining inhibition, drowning any protesting maternal concern.

Susan groaned in a despair mixed with arousal, and she crawled to middle of the bed, turned Bloom over on her ass and back, spread her thighs, and placed her mouth over her daughter’s warm center, tasting her daughter’s pussy for the first time as her tongue, slow and methodical, awoke the drowsy girl from her fervid dreams. Bloom looked down, expecting to see her sister Lilly, her beloved and gorgeous sister Lilly. Instead, she saw the top of her mother’s blond head working between her spread, her lasciviously spread thighs.

“Mom?”

Susan stopped licking long enough to raise her head and grin impishly at her youngest daughter, her precious Bloom, so cute, so adorable, so fucking hot, so fucking steamy and ready for more sex.

Susan returned to work the cunt in front of her.

Bloom squealed with delight and brought her legs forward, her knees to the level of her chin, wrapping her hands around her bent knees, and wriggling her toes playfully.

“Oh god, Mom. That’s feels so good. Yeah, Mom. Lick me there, lick my pussy.”

Bloom lifted her pelvis.

“And lick my asshole, too, Mom. Lick my asshole good. Lick me from ass to pussy. God, Mom, you lick pussy so good, so hot. So fucking hot.”

Susan’s tongue dove furiously into her daughter’s cunt, Bloom’s foul language filling her with more lust than she could handle, the entire night had seen her rise from lust to lust, a sexual fervor and derangement she couldn’t comprehend or even really acknowledge. She seemed to have lost all rational thought, all ability to think, question, or even understand.

She licked because she was born to lick, tasted pussy because she was born to taste pussy, loved women because she was born to love women. Obeyed Carmen because she was born to obey Carmen. Fucked her daughters because she was born to fuck her daughters, make love to them, make ardent and endless love to her daughters, her precious daughters, Lilly and Bloom, raven-haired and wonderful. Nothing else mattered, and nothing else existed.

Susan extended a hand to touch Lilly’s leg, to move her hand across the soft flesh of Lilly’s thigh towards the hot center waiting for her. She would fuck and taste them both tonight, she would fuck and taste them both every night from now on, she decided. They were hers, and she was theirs. She’d do anything for them. Give herself entirely to them. She owed them that.

They were no longer mother and daughters. No, that wasn’t true. But they were more than mother and daughters.

That union had changed. Grown. Increased, flourishing to a new maturity.

They were lovers now.

Lilly murmured in her sleep, spread her legs wider at Susan’s ministrations, and awoke, hearing her sister, her lover beside her moaning in delirious pleasure.

“Oh god, Lilly. Mom’s tongue fucking me. Mom’s fucking me with her tongue. It feels so good, oh my fucking god it feels so good.”

Lilly massaged her breasts, pinching the tight nipples of her tits while gazing her the image of her mother pleasuring her sister’s pussy, her dear and gorgeous sister’s little cunt.

“Oh god, Bloom. You’re so hot, you’re so fucking hot, I can’t believe how hot you make me feel,” Lilly panted. She scooted her shoulders closer to Bloom and turned her head to kiss her younger sister, both girls now frantically driving their tongues into each other’s hot, wet mouths, tongues eagerly dancing a tango of desire, of prurient concupiscence, of a boiling heat that seemed to have no upper limit.

Suddenly Bloom threw her body over her mother’s head, spinning and turning to squat above her mother, now lying on her back face up, while shoving her sister towards her mother’s spread legs.

“Kiss her pussy, Lilly! I want to see you kiss her cunt while I fuck her face with my pussy. I’m going to cum all over her face, Lilly. I’m going to cum all over mother’s fucking face.”

Lilly went down on her mother, and Susan groaned, and Lilly groaned into her mother’s pussy, and Bloom screamed, shrieking at a feverish pitch.

And the night went on.

Orgasm followed orgasm without let up.

When at last the girls and their mother fell back against the bed, extinguished, the last logs burning in the fireplace had crumbled to a glowing ember. The lighted candles burned down to bare stumps, shallow pools of wax with the remnants of a wick still holding onto the last flames of the night.

Dawn and the rosy fingertips of dawn trembled over the edge of the eastern horizon, hesitant to grip the new day. The full moon had vanished beneath the western hills. Mother and daughters lay soundly asleep, wrapped arm in arm, one body hardly distinguishable from the next.

Waking

The sun rose high in the October sky when Susan first began to stir, slowly gathering consciousness. She untangled herself from her daughter’s sleeping limbs and sat up, and stretched, yawning. The cool air of autumn tingled her naked breasts.

Naked.

She was naked.

She turned to her daughters’ entangled bodies, last night’s memories coming back to her at once. The accident, the strange house, the strange woman Carmen, the bath. The sex. Oh my god.

No.

No. That could not have happened. That could never have happened. She could never have allowed herself to sink to that level, that animalistic level.

The bodies of her daughters said otherwise, locked in a lovers’ embrace she had only moments before shared.

The taste of her daughters’ pussies, the taste of Lilly’s and Bloom’s pussies, sat in her mouth.

And a slow heat began to grow in her groin.

No!

Susan bolted up and off the grungy mattress and fled across the creaking, dust-covered floor, last night’s footsteps showing where the three of them had disturbed the thick dust. She fled across the rambling and shaking mezzanine of the second story, the broken balustrade showing years and decades, perhaps more than a century of neglect. She slowed. The floor beneath her feet was rotten, filled with holes, and the mother gingerly picked her way across the broken mezzanine, down the broken stairs and onto the first floor, the ground floor, of the abandoned house. Sunlight poured through large, gaping holes in the roof.

Shingles and broken slats hung from the edge of the holes, clinging to the roof but threatening to fall at any moment.

Long shadows moved from the west side of the house towards the east, and the stained-glass figures of the two women set in a rosette window in the eastern wall where the stair met the second floor reflected the mellow golden light of the sun, now on its descent towards the west.

Susan noticed bird’s nests and large cobwebs dangling from corners. The house stank of animal excrement and decay. The doors to the house were caved in, hanging by a few broken and tarnished brass hinges.

No one lived in this house, and no one had lived in this house for generations, seemingly.

Goosebumps caused by fear, horror, and the chill of the October air raised up along the skin of Susan’s arms and neck.

Oh my god. She’d done. She’d had. With Lilly. With Bloom.

The house creaked in a wind blowing from the hills and through the woods surrounding the manor.

One thing loomed clear in Susan’s horrified mind. She needed to get her daughters out of there.

She swept carefully up the stairs, which shook and swayed, and down the hall to where her daughters lay.

“Bloom! Lilly! Get up! Get up quick!” she shouted.

The girls slowly regained consciousness.

“What?” muttered Bloom.

“Oh my god!” Lilly cried out, leaping from Bloom’s embrace to stand on the other side of the bed. The reality of their situation quickly took hold of all three. The bedroom was cold, filthy, permeated with the stench of decay, of rot. Leaves and bird droppings filled the empty fireplace, long, long left in a state of disuse.

They gathered their wits, took stock, and remembered the bath, where they had taken off their clothes. Would there clothes still be there?

They carefully made their way to the bathroom where they found their clothes in a dirty, wet pile. Socks still soaked, jeans wet with the gully water, the rain of last night. Lilly reached down to grab her uniform shirt. It was freezing cold, sopping. She dropped.

“We have nothing to wear,” she said. “And it’s freezing.”

She rubbed her body briskly, trying to warm herself by creating friction.

Bloom remembered the blankets on the bed.

Or was just part of the strange dream they’d all had?

For surely it was only a dream? They hadn’t really, had they?

Oh my god. Does that mean?

My sister took my virginity. Did I take hers?

Bloom suddenly giggled and dashed out of the bathroom.

“Just a second,” she shouted behind her.

“Be careful, darling!” Susan shouted after her.

“I should go with her,” Lilly said, suddenly panicking at Bloom leaving her side, at the thought of Bloom in danger.

Lilly found Bloom lying on the dirty and grimy bed in the middle of the bedroom, dead to the world, as if in a trance. Lilly stepped forward into the room, rushing towards Bloom, and fell onto the bed herself.

Susan found them like that when she stepped into the bedroom, Lilly lying close to her sister, embracing her with both arms. She leapt forward to get them, rushed to the bed, climbed on it to awaken them, and then she too went still, oblivious to the change of shadow and light flickering in a steady rhythm all around her and her small family, huddled together on the large and timeworn bed.

And then the moon, waxed full, ascended the eastern sky to loom above the stately house high on Moonlight Hill. Susan began first to stir, slowly gathering consciousness. She untangled herself from her daughter’s sleeping limbs and sat up and stretched, yawning. The cool air of autumn tingled her naked breasts. Shocked, she covered her breasts with the soft fabric of the luxurious bedcovers of the love-tussled bed. Then she remembered the night before last, and she sighed, content, deeply satisfied.

Her daughters, her lovers, had been amazing.

She could never get enough of their young, tireless, and tight bodies.

The fire roared in its fireplace, and light from a hundred candles filled the room.

Then she heard a cough, looked up, and saw Carmen standing at the door in a long, shimmering nightgown, the contour and outline of her beautiful feminine body easily seen beneath the sheer fabric. Susan felt her nipples hardening just looking at her, her pussy grew warm, moist. Insatiable. That’s what they all were. Hot and insatiable.

“We have company tonight, my love, my darling. Let your girls lie here in peace. You and I shall welcome him, don’t you think, the new one? Such a lovely visitor for us. All alone and lost and in terrible need of companionship. Please come downstairs with me. No, no. Don’t bother to dress. I like you the way you are.”

And with that Susan arose and followed Carmen, who wrapped one arm around the naked woman, while holding her hand in Susan’s hand as she led her down the stairs, whispering in her ear so closely, she might have been kissing her. Susan listened deeply and cherished every word.

Chiming laughter tinkled in the air around her, echoing in every room of the house.

Jerry

They found the SUV more than a week later, the day after Halloween. Someone reported a crashed vehicle off a little-used highway, and when the sheriff’s department inspected the accident, they found the bodies. The driver had been impaled by a large tree branch, one of the girls had broken her neck during the collision, and the third girl, apparently the youngest and hurled from the vehicle upon landing in the gully, had bashed her head against a large rock.

A few dozen yards from the turned-over SUV, downstream as they torrents of the gully had raged, they found the body of that old drunk who’d taken to drinking out there at night on Moonlight Hill.

Which explained the accident.

It didn’t take long for Jerry to throw away the remains of his life. After all, what good is living when what you live for is gone? And what more permanent absence is death? Not even one’s own death could assure reunion. No reunion could ever be assured. And Jerry was modern. Scientific. Non-religious. Too proud in his intellect to reconsider, he took no refuge in the shade of an afterlife, took no refuge from the glaring heat of reason.

He found a compromise. He turned to drink, the great comforter of misery, both begetting and soothing man’s grief.

He drifted.

He ended up, through that unconscious deliberation which men call caprice, whim, or randomness in the environs of Moonlight Hill, spending his time among the drinkers and derelicts of a town not far from the manor. He spent decades living in that town, quietly forgetting his grief, or exaggerating it, or merging his grief with a rage that he come to poison his days, drunk on memories he could not be sure were his own, and obedient to that thirst which compels a man to live and to die at the same time.

The locals got used to him, and when time and liquor began taking their toll on his face, making him gaunt and ragged, they took to calling him Ol’ Jare.

It was only a matter of time before he took to visiting the sight of the wreck, having learned long ago the highway number and place.

It was only a matter of time before he ventured to the house itself, spending days and nights on the hill, lighting fires to warm himself through the nights, drinking from dawn to sunset or sunset to dawn. He’d throw rocks idly at the windows, throw sticks at the sides of the house, yell at the swallows swarming from its many chimneys. And then one day he saw her.

Susan.

Naked as the day she was born.

Standing in the middle of the first floor.

She shimmered somehow. She seemed blurry, and Jerry’s eyes watered just looking at her.

He called out her name, but she already leapt up the stairs, stairs which looked like they would collapse at any moment and disappeared into the darkness of the house.

He chased her.

He ran up the stairs. Once his foot got caught in a broken slat of wood, but he quickly yanked it and leapt up the steps, holding onto what remained of the broken balustrade and railings.

He searched the hole house but found no one.

The shadows lengthened as the sun began setting, and Jerry, dejected, finally left the house to its secrets, cursing it and his own mind that he would never be free from the thoughts of his wife, long departed, and his two daughters, not grown to adulthood.

The rain came down suddenly and hard. It poured down in torrents, in buckets, in sheets. It put out the fire he had lit, soaking the wood and embers. Shivering in the cold, knowing he’d freeze that night if he didn’t get someplace warm, he drifted down the hill to the road. Maybe he’d find a ride home. Someone might recognize him, might give him a ride. Sure he stank, but he didn’t fight. He never yelled at anyone or got into any trouble or begged money or made a nuisance of himself. He just drank and minded his own business. Folks like that about drunks, and sometimes folks liked that so much they’d stop to help him out.

Not often, but it did happen.

He stood in the rain waiting in the shadows at the side of the road.

No car came, he saw the lights of no vehicle.

Just his luck.

He started to walk along the edge of the highway when he saw the trees ahead of him suddenly glow in the illumination of bright headlamps behind him. A car had finally approached.

Jerry turned around, and even in the dark he recognized it. Even in the darkness of that damned night he recognized, somehow he recognized the outlines of that SUV. The interior light showed the driver clearly, and when one of the occupants in the back seat leaned forward between the front seats, Jerry recognized her immediately too.

Lilly.

In the women’s league baseball uniform she insisted on wearing that year.

He stepped onto the highway to stop the vehicle, desperate to get the driver’s attention, but her mind was bent on something else.

Dammit, Susan, look up!

Then the car loomed close, and Jerry jumped to get out of the way, but the fender of the vehicle struck him. His body whipped forward, he fell to the side of the SUV, where the large wheels of the vehicle crushed his chest before it veered to go off the road.

Jerry watched the SUV strike the tree. He crept to the side of the road, struggling with his last, futile breaths, and then rolled down the gully, following the path of his family.