In the Kingdom of the Sons: A Lesbian Novelette
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by Jean Marie Stine
Category: Erotica/Gay-Lesbian Erotica
Description: Lesbians Take Rogue for All He's Worth! In this original novel of sapphic cunning and sexuality. A mother and daughter with lesbian interests set out to "sting" a ruthless, womanizing attorney--the stakes, a million dollar estate! But beware nothing and no one is precisely what they seem in this clever novelette with a punch. Cover art: BrandyE
eBook Publisher: Renaissance E Books/Sizzler Editions,
eBookwise Release Date: June 2007
7 Reader Ratings:
Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [50 KB]
Reading time: 26-37 min.
* * * * Chapter I The kind of power mothers have is enormous. Take the skyline of Istanbul--enormous breasts, pathetic little willies ... I was so scared I had to crouch in the bottom of the boat when I saw it. Angela Carter New Writing
Mother came into my hotel room from the connecting door. The foggy incandescence of nighttime Piccadilly, punctuated by the honking of omnibus and lorry, spread through the window, illuminating her tall, commanding form. Mr. Cole Porter's most recent tune, "Birds Do It, Bees Do It," issued from the radio (the Ritz was one of the first hotels in London to provide wireless in every room). Mother's forceful, iridescent eyes glittered down at me; her pale swellings and dark valleys half-revealed by the sooty mist of her negligee.
"Trouble sleeping, Roberta?" she asked in her low sultry voice.
"Tomorrow is a very important day, my pet. We must send Sir Basil Norwood away convinced that you are a well-bred, well-mannered young woman."
She came across the room and towered above the bed like a goddess, the magnetic force of her body as palpable as the wind. I could see the darker blotch of the negligee around each nipple, the pale liquescence beneath. She had nursed me from those breasts every night of my life, denying them solely if I failed to measure up to her standards of "a good girl."
Mother slid in beside me, our negligees whispering together, her Junoesque body dwarfing mine. "Mother knows what will help her girl sleep."
She drew the black silk aside from one full, pale breast, a white drop gleaming at its tip. My hands went out, cupped the heavy softness, brought the dark areole and pointed nipple into my mouth. Hot, rich nectar filled my throat as I sucked.
"Mother always knows what Roberta wants," she crooned.
I suckled greedily, pulling the flesh far back on my tongue; mother's breast my world, an enormous, fecund swelling that alone dispensed the nourishment without which I could not hope to live.
The hot fluid seemed to flood from her nipple forever, and I gulped it as eagerly as a parched desert traveler at a well, desperate to consume it all. And, after my frantic sucklings exhausted one teat, I rooted blindly for the other; and mother lowered her nightgown that I might find its peak.
"Now," she said, placing her hand on my head and guiding it gently but irresistibly, "Roberta knows how to please Mother, doesn't she?"
The white columns of her thighs parted, the black thicket opening to receive me, and my lips sought her soft, slick moistness. My tongue leapt willingly to the hot, wet center of her--licking frantically, supplicatingly, worshipfully at the bud. Mother's legs closed around my head; powerful, smothering, enveloping me further in her moist, hungry recesses.
"Ummmm, that's a good girl." Mother's fingers stirred my hair, thighs heaving and twisting around me.
I felt crushed to nothingness, reduced to lips, sucking ardently at larger, wetter, more encompassing lips--about to be, and wanting fiercely to be, sucked up into them, to give myself totally to her, to please her, to be a source of pleasure for her, to show her how utterly I acknowledged her superiority and strength, and how utterly thankful I was for the gift of life she had bestowed upon me.
Mother's breathing became rapid, labored, the pressure of her hands and thighs more intense, my tongue responded exactly as it had been schooled. Suddenly, mother arched back, lifting us both from the bed, fingers knotted agonizingly in my hair. "Ahhhhhhhhh..." Her moan, and the suffocating force around my head, seemed without end. And yet, I bore it all as keenest bliss, and wished that I might endure more to prove my love for her (knowing that soon, I would be called upon to do exactly that).
Then, her thighs released me, and she sank back onto the bed.
Almost dreamily, mother's fingers wandered under the silken fabric of my negligee. "My pet," she murmured, "how I envy your slender, willowy figure." Her hand ran along my inner thigh and I began to tremble. Mother touched the source of my aching--her fingers twisted expertly once, twice, and I released myself against her hand, gasping and shuddering, face buried between her breasts.