Mom, I Think I'm Ready

by Wayne Gibbous

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, White Couple, First, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, Masturbation, Petting, Sex Toys, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: What would you say to your fourteen-year-old daughter when she tells you she wants to begin having sex?

Chapter 1

Being a single mom is never easy. Raising a boy can be especially challenging because of the obvious gender difference but raising a daughter can be difficult as well because of the gender similarity.

So, for Sheila Winfred and Vicky Bellows, both single moms who lived next door to one another, they often shared with one another the ins and outs of bringing up children by themselves.

Sheila was Greg's mom, now fifteen and beginning high school, and Vicky's daughter, Olivia, was in eighth grade fully awash in estrogen. The moms often got together to have coffee and talked about raising children in today's world but never, ever imagined what was just around the corner.

That happened on a Thursday afternoon when Olivia came home about five-fifteen from being at a friend's house. Vicky had just gotten home from work and had gone up to change when her daughter rapped softly on her open bedroom door.

"Hi, sweetie, how was your day?" she asked her daughter the usual question.

"Oh, okay, school was fine. But I need to talk with you about something. Something I want to do."

Well, those words aren't uncommon for a parent to hear, after all, it could be about taking piano or tennis lessons, getting their ears or other parts pierced, any manner of things.

So, Vicky slipped on a teeshirt and pulled on a pair of shorts, telling her, "Sure, what's up." Oh, then it came.

"Mom, I ... well, I think I'm old enough to start having sex."

Vicky did probably just what you would do – sit there rather stunned. Then she did what you might also do, she laughed.

"Oh, honey, are you just kidding me or are you serious about this?"

Olivia surely looked serious as she gave her mother a rather disgusted look as teen girls do so well.

"Mom ... I'm trying to be serious. I really mean it. Other girls are doing it. I'm ready and I want to start."

"Olivia, what has brought this on? Tell me," she asked.

"It's, well, there's a boy I want to, you know, have sex with."

There it was. Vicky didn't have a boy even touch her breasts until she was sixteen, nearly seventeen. Now her daughter wants full sex at fourteen.

"Is this a boy I know?"


"Have you had sex so far?" she asked, after all, lots of young girls do get pregnant.

"No, Mom, I'm not stupid. We're not going to do that until I'm protected. He said he could get us condoms but I told him I wanted you to know before we did it."

In a way she was relieved but she needed to know more.

"How old is this boy?" she asked hoping it wasn't a teacher or a coach, some adult she was involved with.

"He's fifteen. So, can we have sex?"

"Can you tell me what you two have done so far?"

"We kiss a lot and, well, you know, make out and stuff."

"Has he seen you naked? How far has this gone?"

"Mom, we're naked every afternoon. We do everything but him putting it in me."

"Hmm, okay, I think I understand," she said trying to be understanding.

"We do it all, kissing, playing with each other's ... you know, doing oral sex, I give him hand jobs, all that stuff, Mom. You know?" she said rather frustrated.

"Yes, I know, Olivia, I've been there myself."

"So, can we have sex? I really love him and want us to be together. You've said that sex is a wonderful thing for two people to share with each other, that it's beautiful."

She sat there, life had hardly prepared her to answer a child's question quite like this one.

"I would expect that you tell me who the boy is," she asked and her daughter quite quickly told her it was Greg, next door.

"Greg? Were you there today? With him?"

"Yes, Mom, I told you, we're doing stuff and we do it every afternoon after school."

"Oral sex, blow jobs, hand jobs, everything but?" she asked Olivia.

"Yes and we want to start having sex. At least I'm telling you, Mom, not like most of my friends who just do it behind their parent's back."

"That's true and I do appreciate it, Olivia," her mother said, then asked, "Does Greg's mother have any idea about you two? I had no clue that you even, um, hung around together."

"I don't think so, this just started a few months ago."

"What do you think about letting her know about the two of you," she asked her daughter wanting to at least give some kind of a heads-up to her friend about her son's involvement with Olivia.

"You mean me talk to her?"

Then Vicky told her, no, that wasn't what she meant, that it would be between mother and mother, she would talk to Greg's mom.

"Yeah, I guess so. Just don't make her pissed-off at Greg, okay?"

She told her she wouldn't then explained that she would talk with Greg's mother that very evening, if at all possible.

Raising a daughter had its surprising moments but this one, Vicky thought, was the wildest. Imagine a daughter coming to you and telling you she's ready to begin fucking. Telling you that it's time and you need to see that she's properly protected. Oh, my, what a world, she thought.

There are some things that become obvious to a mother as she brings up her child and one of the main things is that she cannot guard and protect that child every second of their life. She knew that her daughter and the boy next-door were home alone nearly three hours each weekday and that meant that sex would happen whether she forbade it or not. And it had already started.

"I need to talk with Greg's mom, Olivia. She needs to know what's going on," Vicky told her daughter.

"You won't try to stop us will you?"

"No, I just need to see how Sheila feels about this first before you go any farther with it."

So, she called her friend next door and asked her over for a glass of wine after supper that evening.

It would not be the first time these two have talked about sex, it's a subject that has come up before. Greg, being a year older, was the first subject of conversation between these two about sex when Sheila told her friend that she'd seen her son masturbating.

It was about six months earlier and she told Vicky that she watched until he finished.

"He never knew I watched him but, girl, let me tell you, my boy is growing up. I couldn't believe the amount of cum. It was wild to watch."

"Just telling me about it is making me wet," Vicky admitted.

"Think what it did to me and I'm his mother. I went and got myself off right after and that night, in bed, twice more. And it's my own son."

That was the first of their talk about sex, their children's blossoming sexuality.

The next time was just last month when Vicky told Sheila about her daughter's fourteenth birthday.

"After the party with all her friends, I put a package on her bed and when she came down the next morning, she was grinning from ear-to-ear," she told her friend, Sheila.

"What was that all about?"

"Her first vibrator. One with a clit head. You should have heard her. She just babbled on and on about how wonderful it was. And guess what?"

Her friend raised her eyebrows as Vicky went on, "Seven, seven orgasms. She hardly slept, even showed me. She was all bright pink and proud of it. I went and got her a bottle of lube and she went right back upstairs."

"For more?"

"For more, twice more. And she thanked me over and over. I had to go out and buy a bunch of rechargeable batteries," she laughed. "Now we talk about orgasms, she's using it all the time now."

"Well, girl, both our kids are masturbating like crazy, you know what's next, right?" Sheila told her friend, little knowing that what was next was going to be sex between their two children.

So, how did Olivia and Greg get together?

It was simple, really. They knew each other, of course, and right after Olivia's birthday Greg asked her about the party at her house.

"Oh, it was my birthday, I'm fourteen now," she said, then grinned and added, "It was the first time I've ever gotten a grown-up gift."

Well, he had to know what that meant, right?

"Grown-up gift? Who from?"

"My mom, at least I didn't have to unwrap it in front of all my friends."

Now he certainly had to know so he asked, just as simple as that. And she answered him, simple as that, "It was a vibrator, you know, the kind women use."

"Like, um, to like get off with?"

"Yeah, and is it great. It's got several speeds and this little sidearm that ... well, do you know what a girl's clit is?" she asked the boy next door.

"Oh, it's like a little thing up inside that feels real good."

"Inside? You mean in a girl's vagina?"

So, they were talking about sex things for the first time ever and she told him, "No, it's not up inside, it's outside. You really don't know?"

"No," he answered, "I thought it was way up inside but I guess I'm wrong," he admitted and she laughed.

"You need to go through sex-ed again, Greg. You get an 'F.'"

"I don't remember them ever talking about a girl's clit and if they did they didn't say much about it."

Then, the words came out that changed everything.

"Would you like to see my present? I'll show you how it works."

He looked at her, she was smiling, waiting for his answer which was "Sure."

She turned on her heel and he followed her to her backdoor and they went up to her room. She went to her bedside table, opened it and brought out her birthday present and handed it to him. He looked at it, turning it over in his hand.

"See, this part goes in, it even looks like a penis and this little side thing you press against your clit. Oh, man, that gets you off quick."

.... There is more of this story ...

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