I knocked on the door of my childhood home. Mum—Susan—was really young when she had me and whoever my father was, he didn’t stick around. Mum and I were more like sisters than mother and daughter.
The door swung open, and there she stood, her gorgeous auburn hair slightly dishevelled. “Abby, darling, you made it!” she exclaimed, pulling me into a warm embrace. The scent of her perfume, a mix of lilac and vanilla, enveloped me.
“Happy Mother’s Day, Mum,” I replied, handing her a bouquet of fresh lilies and a bottle of prosecco.
Mum laughed. “You brought champagne? For breakfast?” She shook her head. “You’re incorrigible, Abby!”
“I can’t afford champagne! But c’mon, live a little, Mum,” I teased, pouring two glasses of mimosa. “It’s Mother’s Day, after all. Let’s celebrate.”
She took the glass and clinked it against mine. “You win, Lovebug. To Mother’s Day, and to my wonderful daughter.”
I rolled my eyes at the nickname she’d had for me as far back as I could remember, but it was for her benefit. I loved her calling me Lovebug.
We settled at the kitchen table, sipping mimosas and chatting about life, relationships, and the future. The conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did with us. “Remember when you helped me with my math homework?” I said, sudden nostalgia threatening to crush me. “You always made it so much easier to understand.”
Mum chuckled and I felt my cheeks getting hot. “No, but I remember sitting with you and watching you work it all out on your own. You’re so smart, Abby!”
I felt a warmth spread through me. “Thanks, Mum. You’re always my biggest cheerleader.”
Then, in this innocent, intimate moment, I felt it—that desire that made my stomach flutter. I had felt it before, but I’d always pushed it down, dismissed it as just our unusually close relationship. But now, as we sat here, on this perfect day, I acted.
I leaned forward, my heart pounding. “Mum, there’s something I need to tell you.”
She tilted her head, a curious expression on her face. “What is it, Lovebug?”
I couldn’t say it. Instead I leaned toward her and before she could react, my lips were on hers. The kiss was soft, gentle. She had to understand what I was asking.
Mum’s eyes widened, and when I pulled back from the kiss my heart sank. She looked shocked—frightened, even—and I felt tears stinging my eyes.
“Abby,” she breathed. “We shouldn’t.”
FUCK! “I-I-I—” my head swam and my vision blurred from the tears.
“Lovebug,” she said and I didn’t know if I’d ever heard that tone in her voice before. “I’ve felt it too. It’s always been there.”
Without another word, I stood up and walked around the table. Mum rose to meet me, and we embraced, our lips meeting in a passionate kiss. The world receded and all that mattered was her lips on mine, her body pressed against me, and her hands cradling my face.
We moved to the living room, the same one I’d spent countless hours lying on the floor watching holiday specials and, later, talking on the phone with my friends, and, later still, quietly making out with boys, hoping Mum wouldn’t walk in and catch us. Now our hands explored each other’s bodies as we fell onto the couch. Her fingers tangled in my hair—a lighter auburn than her own—pulling me closer, while mine traced the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts. They were larger than mine, but not much. I felt dizzy at the idea I would get to see them today.
“Mum, I want you,” I whispered.
“Oh, sweetie, you’re sure?” she asked, her lips tickling my neck.
“Please,” I moaned.
Our clothes came off in a flurry of buttons and zippers, and we lay naked on the couch, our bodies entwined. Mum’s hands roamed over my skin, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I mirrored her actions, my fingers exploring the soft weight of her breasts, the thick nipples and broad areolae that were like mine, but also different, the curve of her hips, the heat between her thighs.
“Touch me, Abby-girl,” she begged, her voice thick.
I didn’t hesitate. My index and ring fingers spread my mother’s labia wide and I dipped my middle finger deep into her passage. She was soaking wet already, and so hot! I wiggled the tip of my finger inside her, then turned my focus to the front wall, petting her firmly. She moaned, her hips bucking against my hand. I could feel her passion building.
“Lovebug, Lovebug,” she gasped, her nails digging into my back.
I increased the pressure, my thumb circling her clit as I added a second finger, pumping them in and out of her cunt. Mum’s breath grew loud and uneven; her body tensed as she neared the edge. I could feel her muscles clenching around my fingers.
“Come for me, Mum,” I hissed in her ear, then bit her earlobe.
She came. With a cry, Mum’s body convulsed, her climax crashed over her in waves. I held her close, feeling her tremble in my arms, and I knew I could never be this connected to anyone else.
Mum uncoiled slowly and looked at me with undisguised wonder. “That was incredible, Abby.”
I smiled, fulfilled in a way I had never been before. “I love you, Mum.”
We lay there for a long while. Then started again; this time she learned about me. We eventually moved to her bedroom, and when I woke in the pre-dawn light, I eased myself out of bed.
I was going to make Mum a special breakfast.
