Family Reunion: Mother's Day

Jasmine came in about twenty minutes later, and she listened in stunned shock about what had just happened... of course already knowing Sasha's entire horrible story from the past.

Sasha finished telling of the encounter and took a deep, steadying breath.

Jasmine asked, "So... now what?"

"I haven't the slightest," Sasha said, "but it was a real blessing talking to my mother, and you already know why I never use that word. I hadn't even known how much I missed her, until just now."

"Well, just be careful; it sounds very much like she's taken a liking to Sasha, I mean who doesn't? But that doesn't mean she'd be happy to see Zach again, especially the way he now looks. Some people's dogmatic beliefs die very hard."

"I know, I know," Sasha sighed, feeling insecure for the first time in years, if only slightly. Her new body, new name, new life had rejuvenated her and given her the utmost confidence. These days she was 100% Sasha... Zach was ancient history... the only proof remaining that he'd ever existed were his parents, who'd declared him dead to them, plus his big cock still living between her legs. She sighed. This would take a lot of processing.

That night Sasha and Jasmine went out on the town, and Sasha ended up in a bathroom fucking an older man who resembled her father. She fucked him so hard, years of bottled-up rage flooding out to punish the old man's ass... who had no idea the rough pounding was a hate fuck, but instead it brought the older man such pleasure that he came without even having his dick touched, and he spewed his load all over the wall.

Later that night the two of them double-teamed a MILF who looked a lot like her mother... Sasha having no idea why she'd searched all night for someone who resembled Emma.

In bed following her very late evening, Sasha pondered whether she might have to go to another psychologist. Back in college, Dr. Felicia Rowe had been a great help in exorcizing her demons.

Meanwhile and elsewhere, Emma was discovering for the first time the power of a vibrator... discovering how her orgasms could be a lot more intense with a magical battery-operated toy from that Wonderful Land that Good Witch Sasha had taken her to. As promised, she had multiple orgasms for the first time ever, as she read a few lesbian stories, imagining Sasha seducing and dominating her.

As a wonderfully satisfied Emma drifted off to sleep, she pondered whether Sasha might be a lesbian. Based on the name of her store, she thought she must be at least bi. That said, there was no way a woman as young and beautiful as Sasha would ever be interested in someone as old and plain as she was. She was a crone in her mid-forties, for pity's sake!

.....

The next day Emma kept her promise about returning to the store. But when she arrived, she was disappointed not to see Sasha.

At first she was helped by a tall, pretty Hispanic woman. Emma felt the need to make sure the pretty blonde knew she'd come back, knew she'd kept her word. She asked, "Is the blonde woman here today?" not using Sasha's name, not wishing to reveal how much she cared about the answer.

"She'll be back in an hour or so," Jasmine replied casually, this not the first time that question had been asked. Jasmine was pretty hot too, but not as jaw-droppingly irresistible as her best friend Sasha. 'Blondes usually get more attention', Jasmine, a brunette, had learned was a truism that was so true... although Jasmine earned a lot of fringe benefits from being best friends with a beautiful blonde, and even had a following of her own, just not as large as Sasha's.

"Great, I'll come back then," Emma said, really wanting to see this young woman again... even though it felt strange to experience the need of making sure the blonde knew she was keeping her promise.

"Okay, no problem," Jasmine nodded, as she suddenly realized who this was, just after she left... she finally spotted the resemblance... that had been Sasha's Mom!

Sasha returned about thirty minutes later and Jasmine opened with, "So do you want to fuck your mother?"

"What?" Sasha asked, surprised by the abrupt question.

"The MILF we spit-roasted last night looked a lot like the woman who came in a little while ago asking for you, and who also just happens to look a lot like you," Jasmine said knowingly.

"That was just a coincidence," Sasha tried to brush it off, still unsure why she'd seduced a woman last night who'd been around the same age as her mother, and who bore somewhat of a family resemblance to her.

"Sure, sure," Jasmine said, able to read her best friend like a book.

"Fine," Sasha sighed, not having an alternate explanation to offer, "I suspect that I do. Although I have no idea why."

"Closure?" Jasmine asked.

"More like pent up frustration and anger," Sasha suggested.

"She seemed sweet," Jasmine said, and then added, "you have her eyes, and I've always loved your eyes."

"Yeah, I was close to my Mom for my entire life," Sasha said, and then sighed, "until that horrible day when suddenly I wasn't."

"I'm so sorry," Jasmine said, giving her a hug and a tender kiss on the cheek, seeing the longstanding hurt flooding from her eyes.

"I thought I was over it," Sasha said, choking back her sobs as best she could.

"You need to take your power back," Jasmine prescribed wisely.

"I agree, but how is that even possible?" Sasha wailed, now openly sobbing, her mother not even having a clue about the impact she'd had on her yesterday... hadn't even known her son was standing right in front of her.

"Let's spit-roast her," Jasmine offered brightly, considering that the solution to most problems.

"My own Mom?" Sasha demanded incredulously, even though that had been her twisted philosophy last night.

"She doesn't know you used to be her son," Jasmine pointed out.

"I know," Sasha nodded, feeling so many mixed emotions, and having great difficulty sorting out her extreme feelings.

"Speak of the devil," Jasmine smiled, thinking that cliché may actually be accurate at the moment.

"Is she back?" Sasha asked, more mixed emotions swarming inside her. She overcame her sobs, surreptitiously wiped her spilled tears from her face, took a deep shuddering breath and said more or less bravely, "Well, we'll just have to see where it goes."

"No she's not back yet, I was just practicing. So worst case, we double penetrate her and gape that virgin ass," Jasmine said wickedly.

"You're so fucked up," Sasha said, shaking her head, but allowing an amused smile to escape.

"Says the girl who ass-fucked a nun," Jasmine countered.

"Says the bitch who back-doored the Priest on the same day," Sasha countered right back.

"You fucked the nun first," Jasmine pointed out.

"But you sodomized the Priest."

"Okay, so we're both sinners going to hell," Jasmine laughed. "But whatever the state of our immortal souls, we're in this together."

"That's all I'm saying," Sasha smiled, loving their wild escapades... recalling their tag-teaming a husband and wife on the couple's wedding night.

"So banging your mother would only enhance your sordid resumé," Jasmine smiled.

"Speaking of the devil, and for real this time," Sasha said, as she spied her mother walking in... although she didn't see her as a devil... or a saint... just somewhere in the middle, like everyone else.

Emma walked in, spied Sasha and headed straight to her. "Hi there, I told you I'd come back."

Sasha smiled, happy to see that her mother appeared so eager to impress her, "So you did."

"I always hated when people told me they'd come back and then didn't," Emma confessed, always hating people who came to church once, promised to return, and never did.

"Oh?" Sasha said meaninglessly, often saying very little and letting the customer do most of the talking.

"Yeah, in my past life, I was a church wife," Emma admitted. "Until only a few months ago, actually."

"Really?" Sasha said, acting surprised.

"Is that hard to believe?" Emma asked, flirting ever so slyly. She couldn't explain it, but she was intoxicated by this pretty woman... her own body tingling just from looking at her. She wasn't a lesbian, although that notion had never been tested, but she was undeniably intrigued by this woman.

"It is, actually. You seem way too cute and sexy to be a sedate church wife," Sasha said, noticing her mother admiring her body.

"I do?" Emma batted her eyelashes, enjoying the flattering words.

"Yes, and I can only imagine how sexy you'll look in a minute or two, when you're wearing some old-fashioned Cuban heel stockings," Sasha said, spinning around and showing her mother the seam going up the middle of her legs in her stockings, all the way to the hem of her miniskirt. "Like these ones."

"Oh my," Emma said, admiring both the amazingly long and shapely, very toned legs, and the sexy, sheer glossy nylons encasing them.

"They're pure, sheer silk," Sasha said, turning back to face her mother, raising her leg and moving her hand up and down on it. "And they're unbelievably soft."

"They really accentuate your legs," Emma murmured, not feeling brave enough to follow up on Sasha's blatant invitation to touch her leg, but admiring the beautiful blonde's legs and stockings nonetheless.

"They'd do the same for you," Sasha said, going into the special area for imported sheer stockings. She grabbed a black pair with Cuban heels, and handed them to her. "Try these on."

"I can try them on without buying them first?" Emma asked, accepting them.

"I insist that you do," Sasha said. "I want to see you in them."

"Okay, sure!" Emma agreed.

Sasha added, "Although you'll need a garter-belt to hold them up."

"I don't own one of those," Emma admitted, feeling a strange rush of adrenaline at what was happening. She couldn't explain it because it made no sense, but she felt certain that this impossible dream named Sasha was flirting with her... although she also sensed this was pretty much how she treated everyone... like they were special and they mattered.

"I'll go and grab you a sexy one," Sasha said, looking at her mother closely... wondering whether Jasmine was right... did she want to fuck her? Would that help her deal with her years of resentment? And had her mother even been to blame in the first place? Sasha was still struggling within her quagmire of feelings, that were being invoked by her seeing the mother who had betrayed her and cast her aside without a moment's warning. Or perhaps it had been a very different story. One where her mother had been bound by her lifelong conditioning to obedience, and had also been helpless with grief, feeling as betrayed and heartbroken as her son did, while her Lord and Master husband had done all the condemning and she'd done all the weeping.

"Okay, if you'd be so kind," Emma agreed, a little overwhelmed and excited.

Sasha grabbed a black garter-belt, also imported from France (the stockings had a Cuban-style heel, but were from France), and returned to her mother. "Here you go, ma'am."

"It's Emma to my friends," Emma said.

"Well, please go put these on, my dear friend Emma," Sasha smiled warmly. "Then let me examine you in them."

"Really?" Emma asked, surprised the pretty blonde wanted to see her wearing such sexy apparel.

"Of course, I've got to make sure they fit properly," Sasha dissembled.

"Oh, okay," Emma said, as she went into a change room and shut the door.

Emma got undressed, leaving her blouse and panties on, wishing she'd chosen a nicer pair of panties, even though she realized as she put on the garter-belt over them, she didn't own any sexy underwear. Once she'd put on the sheer stockings, she was in awe. The stockings felt so silky sheer and soft. And once she looked in the mirror... Wow! She realized her conservative blouse was blatantly wrong for this new look, so she took it off. She sighed as she realized her bra also wasn't sexy at all. So she took that off, too.

Emma stared at herself wearing nothing but the garter-belt and stockings, and smiled. For the first time in her entire life, her wedding night included, she looked and felt... damn sexy. Her nipples were hard as she admired herself, and she suddenly regretted wasting not just years, but entire decades trying to live a life that first her father, and then her husband had chosen for her, while they never gave her the slightest bit of say in her own life at all.

Sasha, surprised at how long it was taking, patience definitely not one of her virtues, rapped on the door. "How's it going, Emma?"

"G-g-good," Emma stammered, having gotten distracted by the lingerie and forgetting entirely that Sasha was waiting to see how the nylons looked on her.

"Open up and let me see," Sasha said.

"Um, I'm almost naked," Emma said, as she grabbed for her blouse.

"No worries," Sasha said, excited to see her mother in lingerie, or even anything less than fully dressed for the first time ever. "That's the best way to see someone in a garter-belt and stockings."

"But I took off my blouse and bra," Emma said, as she put her blouse back on.

"I see customers in their birthday suits all the time," Sasha said. "That's the best way to figure out what else they need."

"No one other than my ex-husband has ever seen me naked," Emma pointed out, realizing just how sad that actually was.

"Then I'm honoured. Open up," Sasha ordered, in a tone she employed to take control, a tone that was seldom disobeyed.

"Okay then, here goes," Emma said, feeling compelled to do whatever Sasha said, even though she couldn't explain why. She unlatched the door, her body trembling with nervousness, and also because it was kind of cold standing there almost naked... she did have her blouse on, but unbuttoned.

As soon as Sasha heard the door unlatch, she let herself in, knowing her mother was capable of changing her mind at any moment, and then she closed it behind her. "Now let's take a look at you."

Emma felt her cheeks go red, as she allowed a much younger woman to gaze upon her almost naked.

"Turn around and show me your back," Sasha ordered, well inside her comfort zone while telling a cute MILF what to do, and since it was her mother obeying her this time, that only enhanced the precious moment. Looking down at herself, Emma saw herself exposed so extremely that she could almost see her own nipples... which of course meant so could Sasha!

Emma mindlessly obeyed, feeling a little like a character in one of the erotic stories she'd been reading lately. If this were an erotic story, it would end with her submitting to the beautiful younger woman. What she found so interesting in the stories was how many of them featured older women (around her age) submitting sexually to younger woman (around Sasha's age). She felt her vagina tingling as she obeyed, and she shook her head ever so slightly, reproving herself for the way her mind descended so easily to the gutter.

"You have a great ass, Emma," Sasha said, admiring her mother's naked ass for the first time.

"Thank you," Emma said, smiling and feeling a rush inside at the compliment. She added, "No one has ever told me I have a nice bum."

"Ass," Sasha corrected. "No one except for a nanny in England says bum anymore."

"Sorry," Emma apologized, feeling like a child being gently scolded by her mother.

"Say it, tell me you have a nice ass," Sasha said, spinning her mother back around so she could see her face and tits, wanting to hear her straitlaced mother say a naughty word, even if it was just a minor one.

"I have a nice ass," Emma parroted sheepishly, feeling her cheeks burn red, as she whispered the words.

"You don't believe a word of it, do you?" Sasha asked rhetorically, feeling so sad for her mother, a woman who had obviously never been viewed as a sexual being, either by herself or by anyone else... just been seen as a wife to breed, a church wife to order about, and a mother to raise an heir.

"I don't know," Emma admitted, looking down. "I've never really thought about it."

"Do you like the nylons?" Sasha asked.

"Yes, they're the most amazing garments I've ever felt," Emma said.

"As I promised, they really accentuate your legs," Sasha said as she smiled, noticing her mother had draped the garter over her sorry-looking panties... which of course she had, how could she know any better?

"They really do," Emma agreed, becoming a tad less self-conscious about being almost naked in front of a relative stranger.

"But..." Sasha said incompletely, as she admired her mother's perky tits, but not her grandma panties.

"But what?" Emma said, instantly insecure.

"We may need to give you an entire under-the-outfit makeover," Sasha said. She had a reputation of orchestrating amazing under-the-outfit, and sometimes complete-outfit makeovers.

"Is it my panties?" Emma asked.

"For starters," Sasha said, looking her mother up and down... the same way she would appraise the figure of any customer. Sasha had a great gift for making over a woman... and although she'd never gotten to play Barbie as a child (although she'd always wanted to, even when she was a growing boy), now she got to play it often, and today she even got to play Barbie with her mother. "By the way, the panties go over the garter-belt."

"Oh," Emma said, feeling so silly.

"Take them off," Sasha ordered, before adding, "I'll be back in a minute with some things we'll both like better on you."

"Um, okay," Emma nodded, as Sasha breezily left the room, and she just continued obeying this persuasive young lady in her early twenties. She unclasped the stockings and removed her panties, wishing she had trimmed her vaginal hair. (She'd considered it. Truth be told, she'd never trimmed her hair, never even considered it until recently, but recently she'd often noticed a shaved or trimmed vagina (or a pussy or cunt... the words they used in the stories... both words so taboo and therefore so hot) both in the stories she read and the porn she watched, and had wondered... what if?).

Sasha grabbed a black thong, a black lace bra, and a laced chemise and returned, really looking forward to playing real life Barbie with her mother.

Emma had set her panties on the bench, and had just finished re-clasping the stockings. She shivered as she stood almost naked in the dressing room, awaiting the pleasure of a young woman... thinking that this scenario contained all the elements of a silkstockingslover erotic story: a confused, sexually stunted older woman up against a beautiful, confident younger woman, the story so far featuring a slow, burning build up, and, of course, the author's ubiquitous silk stockings, this time getting it perfect, with real silk. Plus, she was the protagonist, experiencing these same feelings of a natural submissive: confusion and insecurity holding her back, with excitement and lust propelling her forward.

Sasha knocked on the door, and Emma opened it eagerly... an unreal chill going through her... unreal because she was reading an awful lot into the everyday help of a pretty saleswoman.

"Okay, let's begin your makeover," Sasha said, as she knelt before her mother (something she'd done many times in the past... but then it had been to pray) and looked at her mother's not surprisingly hairy pussy.

Emma's eyes went wide as she saw the pretty woman kneeling before her... and making her pussy tingle. "Sorry, I'm pretty hairy down there," Emma apologized, uncertain why she was apologizing for her long, tangled bush, or even drawing attention to it.

"If you wish, I know a woman who can help you with that," Sasha offered, then added, "now lift your foot up."

Emma mindlessly did. Sasha draped one leg of the panty around it.