Pretty Pink Prom Dress

Manic Monday was playing in the background. Mom had the oldies on again. Although, she wasn't that old. I was looking in her closet. I remembered seeing it a year or two ago. A pretty pink prom dress. Classically styled, and adaptable to nearly any era.

Wendell had asked me out. I think it had nearly short circuited his brain, but he managed to stammer the question out in relatively coherent fashion. He was much more dialed in leading the math club. I'd said yes. Of course I would.

Dad had been a pilot. The crash had been all over the news. I was only three at the time and vaguely remember the chaos. Once the media coverage had concluded, Mom kinda retreated into her own space. I orbited around trying to figure out what I, as a kid, should do.

The senior prom was two weeks out and I'd just had my eighteenth birthday. I felt like every day was a Greek Tragedy waiting to happen. Problem was, I couldn't figure out if I was Helen of Troy or Oedipus. The dress, pink chiffon trimmed with touches of satin hung in the closet. I'd need to alter it. Somehow I found myself resisting the idea.

Wendell had gotten sick the night before the prom. I found I couldn't pull the trigger on altering Mom's dress. I'd hastily gone to the local thrift shop and found something instead. Something to make do. Faux antique ivory lace number, it didn't quite fit me right, but that didn't really matter now, anyway. See, although I have a small waist I have big tits.

Not porn star tits, more like if you're not careful you'll put someone's eye out with those things tits. Squarish and pointy at the same time. I was rather fond of them and usually played with them every chance I got.

"Just go. You need to experience this." Mom said as the Uber pulled up. She'd bought me the corsage and I was the prettiest wallflower at the dance.

As the evening wore on, I felt drained. I just wanted to be at home in my bed, asleep for the next million years or so. I left on the early side.

I paid the uber driver and stepped out onto our driveway. The dress was too small and was chaffing in me in places that I found disconcerting. I walked through the front door and zipped the back down about halfway. Much better.

Mom was sitting at the kitchen table. In the dress. Pink chiffon and satin. She'd been crying. On the table in front of her were four objects. One I recognized right away as Mom and Dad's wedding picture. The other three I wasn't sure about.

A 35mm snapshot of a young woman. Short curly blond hair, on the tall side. She looked strong, standing there in desert camo next to a Bradley fighting vehicle. She had Sargent's stripes on her blouse. Not at all unattractive. Handwritten along the bottom was 'All my Love Midge, from Carleen'... Wait. That was my name.

The other two items appeared to be handwritten letters.

"I never told you." Was all she said.

"I don't understand. You never told me what?" I'd asked.

"I got this dress to wear to prom, but not for your dad. We met later." She said.

I'd just assumed... "So who was he, then." I finally managed.

"Not he, she." My mom said.

"She?" I asked.

"Yeah. She." She said quietly. Indicating the girl in the photo.

"The dress?" I pointed to her. It fit her like she was still in her prime. I'd never really figured her as otherwise. She'd still been eighteen when I was born. Dad was older. They met when she'd waited on him at the restaurant. She was knocked up before she knew it. Dad did the right thing and married her.

"Carleen and I we were young. It didn't last. We were supposed to go to prom together, but her folks stepped in, last minute when they figured out what we were. She got mad at them and enlisted, and bang she was gone." Mom acknowledged.

"You look pretty." I said.

"Thank you dear. One of those notes was from Carleen at boot camp. Mostly apologizing for letting her folks bully her. And for not being there for me. The second was from wherever she was on tour. She wrote it a few days before her Humvee was blown up. No survivors. She talked about her tour almost being over, and how she wanted to come home and be with me. Pick up where we'd left off. I was married with an almost three year old kid." She said.

"She never knew about you or about Dad. Those two letters were all I ever got. I was told that in the areas she was working they really weren't encouraged to write home." Mom looked straight ahead.

"I wanted to give you a high note. I know that Wendell bailed. I'm surprised that it still fits." She said.

"You look really pretty, Mom." I softly said again. She looked more than that.

"Thanks, baby." She said softly.

"I never got to dance." I said turning the kitchen radio on. Mom kept it tuned to a Yacht Rock station, and the soft hits rolled out. Wanna Get Lost In Your Rock And Roll. And suddenly we were slow-dancing in the kitchen. Two prom queens.

"You and she. What did you share with her?" I asked.

"Our first times." She confessed. "It seemed innocent enough, love's first kisses. Discoveries."

"I wouldn't know" I said.

I wasn't complaining. Just confirming something I think she knew. Another slow song played, and we quietly slow-danced some more. I could smell Mom's perfume, suddenly self-consciously aware that our breasts were mashed together, and embarrassed at how good it felt.

Mom's head was on my shoulder and she was sobbing softly. I moved my hands back to grip her waist a little tighter finding that they came to rest at the top of her ass. I felt her tremble a bit as we continued.

After she'd lost Dad. She'd struggled as a single mom. As I got older, I became more aware of the sacrifices she'd made in order to give me a normal childhood. It hadn't been easy, and the more I found out, the more I came to appreciate her as a woman.

Yet another slow romantic song began. Her ass felt good in my hands. Her boobs and mine rubbing together as we swayed in time with the music. I think we were both starting to do it on purpose. I knew I was. I was semi-turned on, here with my Mom. The contradictions were not lost on me. The problem was that desire was steadily decreasing their importance.

"Mom?" I said in a low purr.

"What, Carleen?" She purred back.

"You named me after your first love?" I asked.

"I did. I suppose I wanted a reminder. Your Dad knew, and it was never an issue." She said softly.

"Mom?" I began after a short hesitation.

"Yes, Carleen?" She said.

"Its prom night, and a lot of magical things are supposed to happen to girls on prom night, right?" I asked.

"I wouldn't know, dear. This is my first one too." She replied putting her head back on my shoulder and rubbing our tits a little harder. I softly squeezed her ass, my hands now fully cupping it. She let out a sensual sigh.

I turned my head slightly letting my lips graze her neck just below the hairline. She gasped and trembled in my arms. We were staring down the rabbit hole and it looked mighty inviting.

I nibbled her earlobe and whispered softly about having my first kiss be with her.

"It wouldn't be right, honey." she sighed, her hands now on my ass. More than casual. Squeezing tenderly. "If you want to find some guy, or even another girl. I'm just not sure how I'd handle it if it were us."

"Why? We're both adults. It isn't like we're forcing anything here on each other. Nobody would have to know. Just our little secret. Mommy to Daughter. Please?" I kissed her neck tenderly, feeling her resolve melt steadily away.

I could feel the moment approach, knowing that if I did nothing, it would probably pass, never to return. I couldn't possibly let that happen. My thumb beneath her chin, tilting her head back. Her pupils dilated, eyes flickering and hazy as my mouth and hers became one. Her tongue finding mine. Her embrace deepening with our rising passion. Enter, the rabbit hole.

I could feel it. A flashflood of lust. A decade and a half of desire, distilled into this woman, begging for immediate release. She was a woman, and she was in my arms. I'd never done anything like this before, but she had, and I'd watched enough porn to know at least the basics. I had faith we'd find our way.

I continued the kiss and moved my hand from her chin to her boob, softly squeezing it. She moaned hungrily as I massaged her breast. Her tongue in my mouth speaking a language that had lost all sense of abandon. I felt her hand on my back, finding the half-lowered zipper on my dress and finishing the job. That was all the encouragement I needed.

I returned the favor, stepping toward the bedroom in our best bras and panties. Prom night magic.

"On the bed, Midge." I ordered. It didn't seem awkward if I used her name.

"Yes Carleen, don't stop. You're making me feel so good, baby." She looked at me, deeply enthralled in our lust. I wondered for a second which Carleen her missive was meant for, concluding that in the end it was only her and me in this bed.

Always do what Mommy says, I reminded myself as I pushed her bra straps off her shoulders and pulled her cups down to reveal her tits. They were gorgeous as expected and they were soon in my mouth.

Midge moaned, and ground her tit into my mouth, teasing her other nipple with her fingers as she shook. She was cumming, just from titty play. But the look in her eyes told me we were far from done. If out of control horny had a look, then she was the poster girl for it. She reached behind her and undid her bra, throwing it on the floor next to the bed. I took care of her panties.

Following the nicely trimmed landing strip down to her cleft, she was sopping wet. I didn't hesitate, easily sliding two fingers inside her, she grabbed my wrist and trembled into another orgasm. The sexual energy between us was insane. Midge was absolutely on fire.

Practically tearing my bra and panties off. She dove between my legs. Inside of two minutes she'd teased me to the edge, taking my virginity in the process. I surrendered to the feeling. I was falling in love with my own Mom. Her mouth on my clit, unlike my porn fueled fumbling. She was an artist, and her lips and tongue took me there three times in close succession. I didn't even know that was possible.

Again, she was in my arms, her mouth on mine, I could taste my pussy on her lips as she kissed me deeply. No holding back now, I was hungry for her. Two fingers back inside her, but now my mouth as well. She writhed like a ragdoll moaning semi-incoherently that she was cumming as I relentlessly ravished her treasure box. If this was what being a Lesbian was like, then sign me up for Varsity.

I had rolled onto my back, figuring things were winding down when I felt her on top of me, adjusting me, adjusting herself, until our pussies were kissing. Her moves were slight, but intentional, her eyes locked with mine, supreme lust coupled with amazing concentration. We were connected on so many different levels.

The feelings just flooded through me. I felt her clit rub mine and then her labia like a pair of tongues. And then her clit sliding through my wetness, once we had it, it didn't take long. We both hung on for dear life as we climaxed together. Lovers in word and deed.

I woke up, having to pee. I was surprised I wasn't more dehydrated from the sexathon we'd just had. Foggy, I remembered I was in Midge's room, so got up quietly, careful not to wake her up. When I got back, the sunlight was just starting to filter in the bedroom window. She looked so beautiful and peaceful, sacked out under the duvette.

I stood there for a while as the light came up. Two prom dresses and two sets of underwear scattered on the floor between two rooms. I giggled at how we'd managed to turn that right around. Our first ever prom had been an overwhelming success. I slipped in next to my woman, reaching between her legs. She yawned and opened a tiny bit. My finger slid right in. She'd been waiting for me.

My mouth found hers, our tongues playful at first and then more adventurous as the passion grew. I felt the familiar trace as she grabbed my wrist and shuddered.

"Morning, Love." I said.

"Nice way to wake up, baby." She replied smiling sweetly up at me.

Epilogue:

Our first prom was twelve years ago. We haven't missed a prom night since. It's our special ritual and a reminder of how important romance can be to a relationship. I'm in love with Midge and she is in love with me. I know it's more complicated for her, both because I represent her daughter, as well as her first love. When she starts to struggle, I sooth her and let her get back on track. Take her to the bedroom closet where two prom dresses hang side by side. She never disappoints.

People are amazingly uncurious. Although we have an age gap, it isn't huge and frankly Midge doesn't look even close to her age. Since we both already have the same last names people just assume, we're a married couple. The rings help with that misdirection. We have a small group of friends, but honestly nobody knows, and probably nobody would care if they did.

And every Spring she drops by the school to find out when prom night is scheduled for. It goes right on our refrigerator calendar. With a big red heart around it.