textfiles/sex/EROTICA/D/daria1.txt

                           Shylock's Story Pages

                   --------------------------------------

                            A Surprising Passion

                                 A Story By

                                   Daria

                               [Little Devil]

Every parent dreads the day - you return home at an unexpected time, enter
the house unannounced, and find your child doing something that shocks you
to the core. But my daughter's situation was not what you may think - it
certainly wasn't drugs or alcohol, and the problem wasn't what she did so
much as what I did about it. Even worse, I don't what to do now!

Maybe I should start at the beginning.

My daughter, Jodi, had caught the flu over the weekend and was in bed most
of the time with a fever. By Monday, the fever had eased to low levels, but
she was still somewhat weak and complained of light-headedness and fatigue.
I certainly didn't want her to have a relapse - my daughter was a real
grouch when she was ill, and a repeat of the weekend would have driven my
husband and I seriously crazy, so I allowed her to stay home from school.
After all, I reasoned to myself, she is 16 years old and knows better than
to ditch school without a valid reason.

Monday afternoon, I traded in some owed favors to the boss to leave work a
couple of hours early. I was feeling somewhat lightheaded myself and was
worried I might be coming down with my daughter's illness. I wanted to go
home and put myself to bed in hopes I could cut the flu off as it started.
I briefly considered calling ahead to the house to see if Jodi needed
anything, but my aching back made me reconsider. I left the office,
thinking I could always call Ron, my husband, if we needed him to get
anything on his way home.

As I pulled in to the driveway, I was pleased to see my daughter's car
still parked where it was left this morning. I never seriously considered
that she might play "hooky", but it was nice to have my trust validated. So
as to not disturb her if she was sleeping, I came in through the side
kitchen door. It was quieter than the main entrance and was on the opposite
side from the bedrooms.

A quick glance into the dining and living rooms verified she was probably
in bed. I placed my briefcase gently on the counter and opened the medicine
cabinet in search of aspirin. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a soft
moan coming from the bedrooms. I sighed, thinking that Jodi's fever had
returned full-force. Jodi was prone to bad dreams when she was with fever,
and the last two nights had been punctuated by moaning and thrashing from
her bedroom. Concerned, I grabbed the thermometer and walked to her room.

As I walked down the hall, I heard her moan again, a soft "mmmmmm" which
didn't sound quite the groans of distress from previous evenings. I walked
softly so as to not wake her, and stopped before her door, which was mostly
closed. I peeked in through the open crack. Her bed is next to the door,
with the head right up next to the entrance, so I could easily see that she
was still in bed. The sheets were all bunched down at the foot, and her
feet were crammed against them. Nothing new there, I thought, and made a
mental note to put her bed sheets back together - again.

I angled my view to get a look at more than Jodi's feet, and what I saw
next surprised me so much I dropped the thermometer. She was definitely not
asleep. She was lying on her back, eyes closed. Her left hand was holding
onto a book, which looked like one of my romance novels, tented upside down
on the bed next to her. Her T-shirt was pulled up to her chin, revealing
most of her slender body, and the nipples of her small breasts were taut
and looked as hard as bullets. The source of her obvious state of arousal
was her right hand, which was jammed down under her panties, and I could
see the outline of her fingers as they made slow, circular motions.

She arched her back slightly, causing her breasts to stick up even higher,
and made another moaning sound. Her left hand let go of the book and crept
up to her breasts, and I watched soundlessly as she took one of her nipples
between her fingers and twist gently. This met with a louder gasp from her,
and she threw her head back in obvious pleasure. The other hand began to
grind more forcefully, and Jodi's eyes opened and she stared at the hand,
gasping and hissing. She was speaking at a barely audible level, and I
could make out her running monologue of "yes, yes, oh yesss, oh God, yesss,
in me in me in me!" Indeed, I could make out the outline of her fingers
underneath the sheer cotton panties as one or more of her fingers pistoned
in and out of her, while her thumb made vigorous rubbing motions along her
clitoris.

I stood there for several moments, watching her silently, my mouth agape.
My mind was a whirlwind of emotion and confusion. Sure, I figured my
daughter masturbated on occasion - she was a normal teen, after all, and I
would rather she satisfy her desires this way than with some boy. But it
was one thing to know about it on an intellectual level, and quite another
to see my beautiful, innocent Jodi pleasuring herself so wantonly before my
very eyes.

Her slender, smooth-skinned body writhed and undulated under the
ministrations of her hands, and I stood and watched silently as she started
to buck under the throes of her orgasm. Her body went rigid, every muscle
stretched tight, as her hand rubbed firmly up and down the cleft between
her legs. Her other hand alternated between her breasts, first cupping one
small mound, then the other, thumb brushing back and forth on her hard
nipples. She threw her head back and closed her eyes, and she started a
high-pitched squeak, sounding disturbingly like I do during my own orgasms.
She cried out, "Oh, God, I'm coming, coming, oh, oh, come, come, yes,
yesss" and started hissing violently as her body shook under intense waves
of pleasure. Her right hand never stopped moving, looking as if she were
grinding herself into oblivion.

I started to become dizzy and realized I had been holding my breath. My
heart was beating like a jackhammer, and my breath was coming in short,
quiet gasps. I had just witnessed my daughter having an orgasm for the
first time ever. I had not even seen her completely naked in years, as she
was normally very modest and discreet around Ron and I. The shock had been
enough to rivet me to the spot, and I began to feel horrible guilt about
watching her in such a private moment.

I realized with a start that Jodi could open her eyes at any time and see
my face staring through the crack in her door, so I quickly backed away.
Remembering the thermometer, I stooped to pick it up and was shocked when
wet material came in contact with my vagina. Grabbing the thermometer with
one hand, I quickly stood and reached with the other hand under my skirt.
Sure enough, my panties and hose were soaked with my own juices. As my
fingers came in contact with the front of my panties, they brushed my
clitoris, which was hard and must have been sticking out from its hood. I
barely managed to suppress a startled gasp as electricity shot up from my
loins. I had to physically force my hand away with my other hand before I
came on the spot.

I took one last lingering look at my daughter, who now had both hands
crammed under her panties, and I could hear moist noises coming from her
motion. She appeared to be working up to a second orgasm and was once again
bucking and writhing. I moved as fast as I could without making noise, all
but running back to the kitchen, my heart pounding as if it would burst. I
ran into the second bathroom, next to the washer room, and quietly shut and
locked the door. It was only then that I realized why I decided to run into
here.

Part of me was shocked and dismayed to find myself in such and aroused
state, but another part couldn't wait to do something about it. I worked
quickly to gain access to my clitoris, whimpering quietly with erotic
tension. I looked up in the mirror and watched myself as my fingers began
rubbing my hard nub, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. The vision
in the mirror was one my husband would have appreciated - my skirt was
hiked up to my waist, panties and hose pulled down to my knees, and my hand
shaking violently as I masturbated desperately.

Through the door, I could hear Jodi's cries of "Oh, God, I'm coming! Oh
YES!" as my own orgasm took control. I came hard, biting my lip to clamp
down on the rising cries of pleasure from my own throat. Yet another
dispassionate part of me was shocked to the core at what I saw. Even though
I stood before a mirror, showing me my own carnal self-love, what I
actually envisioned was the image of my own daughter, twisting and writhing
in pleasure gained at her own hands. I rubbed my clit and impaled myself on
my other hand, and my cunt clamped down hard on the fingers, throbbing
rhythmically.

I must have brought myself to orgasm two or three times in that few
minutes, and all that while I was accompanied by my daughter's cries as she
had yet another one of her own. Her shouts of pleasure served to punctuate
my own, and my mind's eye kept seeing her shaking uncontrollably on her
bed.

Finally, I realized with a panic just how awful thing could turn out if
Jodi caught me here, especially like this. I quickly adjusted my clothing,
wiped my soaked hand on a bath towel, and quietly opened the bathroom door.
The sounds of pleasure had subsided from my daughter's room. Fearful that
she could walk out at any moment, I crept out of the kitchen through the
side door. I stopped a moment to catch my breath, trying to keep my knees
from shaking.

I walked around to the front door and loudly scratched my keys in the door
lock. As I opened the door, I shouted out, "Jodi, honey, I'm home!" My
voice cracked, and I coughed nervously to bring it under control. I
overheard sudden movement from her bedroom, and I imagined she was
rearranging her clothing and bed sheets.

She called out, "Uh... Hi, Mom! I'm in my room!" Her voice sounded shaky
and nervous. Had I not witnessed earlier events, I would have chalked it up
to her illness. I heard her cough once, and I realized she was trying as
hard as I to put some measure of control in her voice.

The rest of the evening was rather anti-climactic, and I drifted through it
on some sort of autopilot, lost in deep thought. I couldn't possibly tell
Ron what happened. He had a healthy attitude about sex, and he surely knew
that Jodi and I both masturbated, but it was another thing for a mother to
masturbate to the sight of her own daughter's self-love. I was torn and
confused. Even worse, I found my mind drifting back to the sights of that
afternoon, and my legs would grind together almost without my volition.

Later that evening, I crept back into Jodi's room after she had fallen
asleep. She was laying on her back, wearing a thin cotton nightgown. I
found myself staring at her body, especially her breasts, which were no
longer the hard-topped mounds from this afternoon. My hand moved as if it
had a mind of its own, and the fingers came to rest gently on her breast. I
felt the nipple begin to swell, and Jodi stirred and whimpered in her
sleep.

Shocked at my behavior, I almost threw my hand back and hurried out of her
room. My body was shaking uncontrollably with conflicting feelings of
desire and shame. Ron was already in our bedroom, so I ran into the kitchen
and locked myself in the back bathroom. I stared at myself in the mirror
and saw my own nipples pressing out from under my own satin nightgown. As
my hands crept up and softly caressed my nipples, I closed my eyes and
moaned softly.

I was torn with lust and disgust with myself. I admitted to myself what my
body already knew, as it led my hand to my clitoris and the impatient
orgasm that would soon surface. As my orgasm took my body, my mind was
taken by a single, searing thought - I wanted my daughter. I wanted Jodi.

What can come of this? I hope that nothing ever happens. I hope that
everything happens. I'm not a lesbian, and I have never, ever slept with a
woman before. Yet right now I want nothing more than to make love to my
beautiful daughter.

What will the future bring? I'm not sure if the question is, "Can I resist"
or if it's "Should I resist?"



         ---------------------------------------------------------
                                   Index

                   --------------------------------------