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Mother’s Girl

Her first time in more than one sense!

If I rest my head on the pillow on the other side of the bed, I can still smell mother’s hair. She uses a preparation with a slight scent of pears, but her preterred fragrance is Anais Anais and this morning, as usual she showered with Anais Anais body shampoo. The bed is warm from her body and her scent lingers as does the indentation in the bed she has so recently left.

It is a mid afternoon in late July. The yellow curtains are almost fully closed but the sunlight is filtering through the fabric and one vivid bar of bright yellow is shining on the floor where the gap is letting the light through. One of the windows is slightly open and a light warm summer breeze is bringing the sounds and smells of the garden into the bedroom.

I am 25, unmarried and have always been thought a little strange or possibly very shy because I have never really had what is thought of as a normal relationship. I had one or two boyfriends at school, but apart from allowing a few furtive and inexperienced attempts to touch me in private places, I never seemed to have had any sexual urges for the opposite sex. I suppose that deep down I’ve always known why.

I am not unattractive. I am a blue eyed, natural blonde, around 5’7” and weigh about 125 pounds. My measurements are 34C-25-34.

I am naked.

My mother is downstairs opening a bottle of Chardonnay and will shortly be coming back to bed with it.

We have just discovered each other’s urges and needs.

The door opens and my mother comes in with the wine and two lead crystal glasses on a tray. She is also naked and as she walks over to the bed I admire her forest of dark brown pubic hair and her 36D breasts and the way they swing as she stoops to place the tray on the bedside table. She pours two glasses and hands one to me and I sit up to take it from her allowing the solitary crisp white cotton sheet to fall from my breasts as I do so.

My mother gets into bed next to me so that our bodies are touching and languidly places her left thigh over my right one as she takes a sip of the chilled, crisp, white burgundy.

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