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Two Women: Isabel’s Return

Category: Incest
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“Harder, if you like.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s all right now. Please do it.”

She was astride him, her eyes drawn momentarily to a small bead of perspiration running from his forehead to the grey flecks at his temple, then looking down on the finger tips tightening their grip on her nipples. At the start this would have hurt but now, with her juices flowing, she liked the added stimulation, supplementing the hardness of him inside her.

As they fucked in silence – varying the pace, increasing and diminishing the intensity, pausing, reinvigorating, subtly changing pressure, exchanging initiatives – she marvelled at how far they had come. It had taken time, several months since they first met. In the early days there had been too much excitement, too many early climaxes for him, too much reticence on her part. Gradually, they had talked. established each other’s desires, devised scenarios for mutual fulfilment. Now, she thought, they were like trapeze artists, totally confident in each other’s reactions, embarking on ever more daring and inventive combinations, never doubting the ability of their partner to help them reach the ultimate goal.

This time he helped her with fingers, tongue and rigid member to a series of climaxes. A moment came when she suddenly took control, began to move on him until restraint was impossible and he shuddered, thrust, held himself hard against her clamping muscles, prolonging the fierce discharge into her inner depths. Finally, deliciously, it was over.

Soon they slept, she on her side, he curled against her, his still slightly erect penis cushioned between her buttocks.


During the short flight to Edinburgh Isabel luxuriated in the memory of the previous night. She and Mark were not yet living together, although she believed that would happen in its own good time. They were in love, there was no doubt about that, and the decision they had taken to ensure their sexual compatibility was clearly being rewarded. The age disparity seemed not to matter. But – and this was the dilemma she had still to resolve – was she ready to commit herself to Mark at the expense of her freedom? Specifically, was she willing to end a relationship with Christine and Tim that had transformed her in less than two years from a naive young woman escaping a rigorous Calvinist home life into a sexually adroit adult fully aware of her own libido and enjoying its exploration?

[The story of how Isabel’s repressed desires had been set free, first in a chance encounter with Christine and subsequently in an ongoing threesome with Christine and her partner can be found elsewhere on this site in the trilogy entitled ‘Tim’s Temptation.’]

Edinburgh arrived too soon. Slipping into the airport ladies’ room to change out of knickers made moist by her musings, Isabel made herself address the situation awaiting her.The sudden death of her father, struck down in his office by a heart attack one Thursday afternoon, had left Isabel with ambivalent feelings. She could not but sympathise with her mother but her own indifference was so total that a neutral observer might have taken it for callousness. The fact was that Isabel had severed any emotional ties with her father when she left home. But since the funeral she had taken to making a monthly return to provide company for Katherine, her mother.

In honesty, she had to admit that what had been begun as a matter of duty had proved less stressful than she had anticipated. But on this, her third visit, she had come with a mission. Remarks her mother had made had led Isabel to suspect that her father’s death was not deeply mourned, might even have been welcome. On this trip, Isabel was determined to discover how far that went.

Her intentions were pre-empted. Well aware herself of how a half bottle of wine can loosen inhibitions, Isabel took her mother to dinner, order a full-strength red and poured liberally. It was when they had returned home and were sitting together on the sofa that her mother said, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

“Ask away.”

“Even if it’s personal?”

“If you don’t ask. I won’t know, will I?”

Katherine took a deep breath before continuing. “Well, ever since you moved away, you’ve changed. Not just grown up, you’ve matured. Not a girl any more, but a woman. And I don’t think that’s only down to your job. What I want to ask – and you don’t have to answer – is this: is sex important to you?”

Without pausing to consider where her answer might lead, Isabel replied, “Mum, I have to be honest. Sex is the most important thing in my life. I need it often and I’m lucky – I’ve been able to find a way of achieving it.”

“Would you like to tell me?”

Isabel thought for a moment. She was unsure how ready her mother was to know about all her various activities, nor was she clear how that might help a widowed 45-year-old. It might have been possible to explain about Mark but even to hint at the lifestyle she enjoyed with Christine and Tim and their extensive circle of sexual contacts was not to be contemplated. She said, “In time, I might. But not just yet. I want to know about you. Why are you asking?”

The hesitation now was on the other side. Finally, Katherine said, “I’ll tell you, if you think you can help,”

Isabel leaned forward and touched her mother’s arm but said nothing.

“Sex with Angus was complicated. As an elder of the Kirk, he could only contemplate sex within marriage. But within marriage he felt entitled to dictate. One of his essentials was that he wouldn’t have sex unless we were alone in the house – he didn’t want you to know what we were doing.”

“Understandable, I suppose but – ”

“What it came down to after you started school was this: about twice a month he would come home from his office in the middle of the day and demand what he called his ‘rights.’ In time, that followed a rigid pattern. He would sit in that chair – there – open his trousers and play with himself while I stood with my back to him and lifted my skirt. He liked me to bend forward while he stroked my bottom. Then I had to take off my knickers and bend over the arm of this sofa. When he was ready, he would stand up, step out of his clothes and come over to me. By then he would be hard but it seemed to help him stay that way if he spanked me. Twelve slaps with the flat of his hand, never more, never less. After that he would take me from behind, pushing himself in and out until he was done. The first time he would speak would be to tell me to clean myself up and get dressed. And that was it until the next time.”

“Oh my poor Mum, that was awful. How did you feel about it?”

“The strange thing is, in a way I came to enjoy it.”

“Even the spanking?”

“Especially the spanking. It made me wet, so I could take him inside me without it hurting.”

“Yes, but …” Isabel paused, still trying to absorb the new picture of her mother she was being forced to consider. ” … but was there any satisfaction for you?”

“An orgasm you mean?”

Isabel nodded. Wistfully, her mother shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time.”

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable but neither woman seemed to know how to continue. Finally, Isabel said, “When I’ve been without sex for a while, masturbation is the answer. Wouldn’t that work for you?”

“” Darling, I’ve tried but I don’t get very far. You must remember that you probably know much more about these things than I do. That’s why I’ve asked you. I know it’s the wine talking but I may never have the courage again.”

“I would have been disappointed if you hadn’t asked. Can I make a suggestion?”

“Of course. Anything.”

“Then go and have a nice long hot bath and then get into bed. No nightdress. Nothing. Just you. And then I’ll join you and we’ll see what can be done. Yes?”

“Can we do that? I mean, is it all right?”

“Who will know?”

Without another word, Katherine kissed her daughter on the forehead . rose and left the room. Soon, the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom.


After much deliberation, Isabel removed all her clothes except for a pair of cream knickers before entering her mother’s bedroom. Katherine had turned back the covers but was lying on her back fully exposed. Isabel stood over her for a few moments before bending to kiss her on both cheeks. “Well,” she said, with more confidence than she really felt, “You’ve nothing to be ashamed of with a body like that.”

“You mean I’m not yet wrinkly?”

“Anything but. Your legs are as good as mine – and I don’t go short of compliments. And small breasts help – they won’t droop and a lot of men like them like that.”

Katherine smiled. “A lot of men? Are you that experienced?”

Having unthinkingly lifted a small corner of the curtain she had drawn over her London life, Isabel wasn’t ready to give an honest answer. “Not really. Just a manner of speaking. What I do know is that any man likes responsive nipples. Shall we try?”

The suggestion led to an immediate tension in Katherine’s body, hands closed into fists, legs suddenly tightly clenched, but under her daughter’s murmured encouragement, she gradually relaxed. By that time, Isabel was kneeling on the bed at her side, stroking the underside of one breast, pausing just short of the nipple. Katherine closed her eyes. Isabel leaned forward and applied the tip of her tongue to the dark bud.

It was the pivotal moment. If there had been apprehension, instinctive barriers, fear of the unknown, Isabel’s sensuous tongue dispelled them. The nipple hardened and was savoured. The other breast received the same treatment with the same result. Katherine’s sighs were all the invitation her daughter needed to continue.

The rest was so easy Isabel was reminded of the way her own inhibitions had been swept away during her first session with Christine only a few short years earlier. As her hands and tongue traversed her mother’s body, she felt an extraordinary ferocity of desire seeking a way to the surface. With her head poised above Katherine’s groin, she stopped to ask, “Are you all right? Shall I go on?”

By way of reply Katherine reached down with both hands to press her daughter’s head between legs that opened to receive her. Isabel parted the labia and slipped two fingers effortlessly into a sodden vagina. As she began finger-fucking she was aware of a small cry from her mother: “Yes. Please. Like that.”

Where the fingers had been, Isabel’s tongue followed, probing, lapping, tasting, stimulating. For a while she avoided the clitoris, and that proved to be a wise decision for as soon as her tongue explored the protruding stalk, Katherine was seized by a huge tremor that began at the groin and spread uncontrollably through her whole body. Isabel, clamped between her mother’s thighs, strove to maintain contact with the clitoris until the spasm had passed completely.

After they had wiped away superfluous juices, the two women lay for a long while in silence. It was broken when Katherine said softly, “My Darling, I don’t know whether that should have happened but I have to tell you it was the most marvellous feeling I have ever had. How shall I ever thank you? Should I be doing something for you?”

The temptation was strong but Isabel feared there might be an unwanted reaction. Instead, she kissed her mother, pulled the covers over her and said, “Not this time, Mum. Sleep and be happy. No regrets. No second thoughts. And in the morning, please don’t pretend this never happened. There may be more we can do for you.”

Isabel turned out the light and returned to her own bed with a great deal of thinking to do.


Her thoughts came to fruition a few weeks later. As she had anticipated, there was some embarrassment on her mother’s part. Isabel dealt with it as unemotionally as she was able: straightforward talking over the breakfast table. it wasn’t easy. Katherine, it emerged, had been completely dominated by Angus throughout their marriage, to the point that her physical desires had been not so much repressed as forgotten. Now, after a single experience, there was a danger that she would be too eager to enjoy her new-found sensuality.

They agreed that sooner or later Katherine would have to find her own salvation. Dependence on Isabel was not an option. The first step, Isabel insisted, was to find a hairdresser who would change Katherine’s dated style to something more appropriate to a woman embarking on a mission of self discovery. Then the two women would have a weekend together in London to continue the process.

Meanwhile, Isabel succumbed when her mother suggested that the previous night’s experiment should not be left as an isolated one-off. Leaving the breakfast dishes on the table, they returned to Katherine’s bedroom where a degree of self-consciousness was lost in kisses and caresses. This time, Katherine was disposed to prolong the enjoyment of her body and showed signs of understanding how that could be achieved. And this time, Isabel was so aroused herself that she didn’t demur when her mother was moved to reciprocate.

The London weekend was given an added bonus when the solicitors handling Angus’s will disclosed that his estate was to be shared in three equal parts between the Kirk, Katherine and Isabel. No figures were available but, said the solicitors, the Edinburgh printing business and various subsidiaries in other towns and cities were likely to sell in due time for several million pounds.

New-found riches in pursuit of a new personality. Isabel met her mother at the airport on Friday evening, approved a new hairstyle that shed ten years, and then checked them into an expensive hotel in Park Lane. In their room after dinner, Katherine took her daughter by both hands and looked into her eyes. “Nothing’s changed, has it? I mean, between us. You do want to do it again? Because I do. Badly. Now.”

Isabel’s objective was to use the weekend as the start of a weaning away process but at the same time she was aware that a sudden rejection could have disastrous results. Not to mention the conflict between what her mind told her was sensible and necessary and what her body was already beginning to demand. Saying nothing, she stepped out of her dress.

Between waking and sleeping there was a long night of many orgasms and eventual exhaustion.

On Saturday they rose late, spent leisurely time in the bathroom and then went shopping. New day and evening dresses continued Katherine’s transformation. Near Bond Street they spent freely at For Her For Him, a lingerie boutique that Isabel had been introduced to by Christine during her own induction. Isabel remembered wryly that on that occasion she had left her purchases in Christine and Tim’s flat for fear of having them discovered by her mother.

After dropping off their packages at the hotel, Isabel guided her mother into Soho for a round of the sex shops. Confronted with vibrators and dildos of every size, colour, shape and material, with leather and latex, with handcuffs, harnesses and whips, with lurid magazines and explicit videos, Katherine’s embarrassment returned until Isabel pointed out that they were by no means the only female shoppers. “This is London,” she said, “and this is the way a lot of people live. Many more than you might suppose. Anyway, no one knows you here.”

Reluctantly, Katherine tendered her credit card (full name for any snooper to note, she thought) in exchange for an anonymous carrier. It contained a vibrator, two dildos and half a dozen videos chosen by Isabel. None of them to be used/opened until Katherine was back in Edinburgh. The weaning process.

By early evening, bathed, pampered and wearing some of her new purchases, Katherine met with Isabel’s full approval. She was, quite simply, unrecognisable from the downtrodden woman who had endured a hideously unsatisfying marriage. “Come and stand beside me in front of this mirror,” said Isabel. “We could easily be sisters, couldn’t we?”

Katherine conceded that they could.

“Come on then, let’s enjoy ourselves. The bar, I think. Though I ought to warn you that you may see some single women there, glamorous and expensively dressed. They may be residents but it’s unlikely. The hotel can’t be seen to approve of prostitutes but as long as it’s not blatant they turn a blind eye. A service to their male guests. But don’t worry, there’ll be no problem for the two of us together.”

For half-an-hour they sat and surveyed the scene. It was exactly as Isabel had painted it, although the four solo women who might or might not have been ‘available’ weren’t approached. But Isabel and Katherine were. A tall, presentable young man strolled into the bar, looked round for a vacant able and, failing to spot one, came to where they sat. “Excuse me,” he said. “It’s pretty crowded in here. Would you mind if I joined you?”

When Isabel nodded and indicated a vacant chair, he paused before sitting down. “You’re very kind. But let me get you a drink.” He called a waiter and Katherine found herself ordering a second Bloody Mary, having only been persuaded to try the first one by her daughter a short while earlier.

When introductions were called for, Isabel spoke for them both. “I’m Belle, my sister is Kay. We’re down from Scotland for a girl’s weekend, shopping, whatever.”

The young man, who looked to be in his mid- to late twenties, said his name was Jonathon. He was over on business from South Africa. Had to go to Birmingham and Manchester but was taking in London for just two days. Although his manners were unimpeachable, it became apparent after a while – and another round of cocktails – that he was turning his charm fairly obviously on Katherine. Who was responding. Isabel made an excuse and went to the ladies’ room, taking her time.

Returning, she stood at the edge of the bar area. Her mother and Jonathon were deep in conversation, leaning towards each other. The young man’s hand was on her mother’s knee. Isabel took a roundabout route to rejoin them, giving Katherine time to remove the hand and recompose herself. But she turned to Jonathon and said, “I need to have a word with my – sister. Would you mind?”

“Of course not. It’s time I paid a visit anyway.”

As soon as he had headed for the men’s room, Katherine put a hand on Isabel’s arm, drew her close and said quietly, “I can’t believe this. We’ve been – propositioned. Is that the word?”

“How do you mean ‘we’?”

“He wants us to go up to his room. At first he just said me, but I couldn’t. So he said why not both of us.”


“What do you mean?”

“Well, I can guess what he has in mind.”

“Darling, I’m not that naive. So can I. I just can’t credit it happening like this. I mean, i don’t believe a word of that South African business. He doesn’t sound South African to me. How do we know we won’t be robbed or something.”

“The two of us? Unlikely. But he’ll be back soon. Do you want to go?”

“Will you look after me? I’m so confused. I thought that you and I …” The thought remained unspoken as Jonathon returned and sat down beside Katherine.

Isabel ame straight to the point. She said, “Kay has told me. If you are sure this means both of us -?”

“Of course. I’m in 6028. Perhaps it would be best if I went first, then you can join me in a few minutes.” He headed for the lifts.

Although three Bloody Marys had had their effect, Katherine needed reassurance. “This does mean what I think it means, doesn’t it?”

“Mum, let’s face it – what it means is sex. If you are ready for it, it could be very good.”

“But does he really want both of us?”

“I’m not sure. It’s you he’s taken to. But there’s only one way to find out. Shall we?”

Katherine paused. Then she smiled a somewhat apprehensive smile. “All right. Let’s find out.”

Jonathon had already removed jacket and tie and loosened his collar. For an expensive room, there was not a great deal of space: a large double bed, a television set, a desk with an upright chair, an armchair beside a standard lamp. There was also a minibar. Jonathon opened it and asked, “Drinks, anyone?” The two women both shook their heads.

“Well, then, why don’t we get comfortable? Belle, have the armchair. Kay can sit on the bed beside me. We were just getting to know each other in the bar, weren’t we?”

Nervously, Katherine perched beside him. He immediately put his hand on her knee and squeezed gently. “Weren’t we, Kay?”

Katherine looked at Isabel. “He wanted to know what colour knickers I was wearing,” she said.

“Well now you could show me. Couldn’t you?” He began to lift the hem of her skirt. Momentarily, Katherine seemed about to push his hand away but instead she let herself fall back on the bed. “Why don’t you look?” she said.

The knickers were black silk. As was the suspender belt, the straps stark against white thighs. Jonathon purred appreciatively. His hand caressed the inner thighs close to Katherine’s groin but stopped there. He raised her to a sitting position and slowly undressed her until she wore only bra and knickers. “Kay,” he said, “you are absolutely gorgeous.” Then to Isabel as he stepped out of his own clothes, “Do you mind if we …”

She smiled. “First come first served, is it? I’ll join the queue.”

Jonathon turned back to Katherine. “May I?”

Katherine took a deep breath. “If I bend over like this, will you spank me first?”

If Jonathon was surprised, he gave no indication. After carefully inspecting the proffered buttocks, which he stroked several times, he asked her to widen her stance slightly. Then he began to administer the spanking. It was, Isabel noted, exactly as her mother had told her Angus was accustomed to deliver. After twelve slaps, she stood and turned to face Jonathon. Her face was flushed and she was breathing rapidly. “That was good. I think I’m ready. And I can see you are.”

Jonathon’s penis was erect, receiving but not needing further encouragement from his hand.

Growing bolder by the moment, Katherine lay back on the bed. “Take my knickers off, please.”

No sooner had Jonathon complied than she pressed his head into the exposed area, splaying her legs wide and raising her knees. Unsurprisingly, she orgasmed almost at once. Watching, Isabel remembered how her mother had responded to her own tongue.

She had wondered how she would feel as a voyeuse while her mother gave vent to her sexual desires but experience in Tim and Christine’s circle in not dissimilar circumstances had prepared her. What she felt was certainly not revulsion or embarrassment; to an extent it was curiosity, but above all it was arousal. She stood, removed her dress, then sat again and slipped her hand inside the waistband of her knickers. Her fingers encountered a clitoris already engorged and slick.

On the bed, Jonathon had turned Katherine on to all fours and was preparing her with searching fingers. Then he took his penis in his hand and carefully unrolled a condom over its length before guiding it into her, slowly but without pausing until the whole length was buried. Muffled sounds of encouragement from a face resting on a pillow led him to begin a rhythmic pounding. For what seemed a long while the only sounds in the room were the slap of flesh on flesh and the occasional grunt from Jonathon as he drove himself to ever more forceful penetration.

As far as Isabel could tell, it was her mother who initiated the change of positions, turning on to her back for Jonathon to take her missionary fashion. Once again the metronomic pounding commenced, this time accompanied by little cries of pleasure from Katherine.

It was more than Isabel could bear to remain uninvolved. She crossed to the bed, one hand still inside her knickers, and began to lick her mother’s nipples. At last, Katherine cried out, “I want to come. Make me come. Make me.”

Isabel lifted her head. “Fuck her, Jonathon,” she said. “Give it to her hard.”

“Oh, yes,” echoed Katherine, now in the throes and uncontrollable. “Fuck me. Give it to me hard.”

It was Jonathon who came first, a sudden driving spasm that caused him to collapse on top of Katherine. “Oh, please don’t stop,” she said. “I must have it.”

Seeing a limp cock emerge from her mother’s cunt, Isabel seized the spunk-filled condom, withdrew it and handed it to Jonathon for disposal while she bent her head to address Katherine’s unfulfilled need. But Katherine had learnt from their previous exploits together. “That’s good,” she murmured, ‘but now he can’t do it any more let’s take our time.” With that, she pulled her daughter into the classic sixty-nine position, clawed the knickers down her thighs and thrust her mouth into contact with Isabel’s cunt.

How long they continued, Isabel could not remember afterwards, but it was long enough for the sight of the two women enjoying each other to restore power to Jonathon’s cock. Isabel’s first awareness was when she felt his fingers on her cunt just above where her mother’s tongue was lapping. Briefly looking round, she saw that Jonathon had another condom in place before she felt the hard length probe inside her.

The initial overwrought excitement over, the threesome tried all the variations. Katherine and Isabel both let themselves be taken to orgasm before Jonathon groaned, snatched off the condom and delivered a long spurt of cum on to Katherine’s tits.

When all three had made some kind of recovery, Isabel said, “I’m done for. It’s been great – both of you – but I can feel a headache coming on. I’ll go to bed. But, Kay – would you like to stay for a while?”

Katherine smiled. “I think I’d like that. If Jonathon would.”

To his credit, Jonathon said he was prepared to try.


Back in her room, Isabel picked up the phone and dialled. It was answered on the first ring.

“Hi,” she said. “It worked. You wouldn’t believe how well it worked.”

“And she didn’t guess?”

“Well, she did say she didn’t believe in the South Africa bit but once Tim had got her knickers off she wasn’t asking questions.”

“Come on then,” said Christine. “Since you’ve borrowed my man for the night – and given him the pleasure of screwing mother and daughter in the same bed – I’m entitled to a blow by by blow account.”

“Well,” said Isabel, “this is how it started …”

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