A Thunderstorm

You get home from work just ahead of the darkening clouds and threatening winds, cursing the local weatherman who obviously fucked up when he said that it would be a calm, uneventful night. The lights in the living room are on, indicating the Mia is already home but she not planted on the couch in front of the TV checking her texts as normal. Her backpack is unopened at the front door.

You climb up the stairs and knock gently on your daughter's door.

"Come in." Her voice is low, and you begin to wonder if she's not feeling well. You open the door slowly and notice the lights are off, but you can see that Mia is under the covers in bed.

"Hey, sweetie. Are you not feeling okay?" you ask as you step into the room. It seems a little warm in here and there's a scent that you don't recognize, slight but not unpleasant. Maybe she has a new body splash.

"I'm just really tired, Mommy." Mia's voice sounds like she's completely run down.

You sit down on the bed next to her, putting your hand on her forehead instinctively after 18 years of caring for your only child.

"Well, you DO feel a little warm and," you look at her in the dim light. "You look a little flushed. Also, you haven't called me 'mommy' since you became a teenager." You giggle slightly and she responds in kind.

"Would you like me to make you some soup?"

"Yes, please. Thank you, Mommy," she says and takes your hand and kisses it. It seems a little odd, but you don't mind. You get up and head down to the kitchen to make some soup and you can't help but note how beautiful a young woman she's grown into.

After making the soup, you spend much of the evening sitting with her. She has become so beautiful and the affection you feel towards her seems to make you want to hold her hand, kiss her forehead and cheek and just generally keep a hand touching her in some way. Mia responds in much the same way, telling you how lucking she is to have a wonderful mommy, she uses the word a lot, and how beautiful she is. You find you enjoy the compliments and feel the warmth growing between you. Her hand accidently brushes across your breast, directly over the nipple and it send a jolt of arousal through you that seems to go straight between you legs. The experience unnerves you a little, and you chastise yourself for the feeling from what was obviously an innocent accident. Mia seems to not even notice, but you can feel heat building in your panties and your nipples have hardened dramatically.

"Well," you say as you get off the bed. "You should get some sleep and it's bed time for me too."

"Okay, Mommy," she says with a cute pouting expression. "Can I have a goodnight kiss?"

She hasn't wanted a goodnight kiss for a long time, but you don't mind. You bend down to kiss her on the cheek when she turns suddenly and your lips fall onto hers. It's a quick kiss, but is lasts a bit longer than felt comfortable for you.

"Night-night!" she says and she cuddles up in her blanket.

"Good night," you reply and shut the light off as you leave her room, closing the door behind you.

A distant rumble of thunder reminds you of the approaching storm.

It took you two chapters of the book you're currently reading to get calmed down enough to be able to fall asleep. The unnerving feeling you had when you undressed and found your panties were soaked with evidence of arousal; arousal seeming to have been brought on by the time you spent with your own daughter! It hadn't helped that unwanted fantasy visions of her young, nubile body would creep unsummoned into your mind. You took a cold shower and focused on anything other than your teenaged daughter. The book helped. You thought of masturbating, but feared that sexual thoughts of Mia might sneak in.

You close the book and put it on the nightstand and turn off the light. Lightning flashes and thunder seem to intensify as you pull the blanket up, and you hope they don't wake Mia. The moment you think of her, your mind begins to replay the evenings events in vivid detail. You can recall each and every touch of her soft skin, and more than once you caught sight of her beautifully toned legs capped by her pelvic region covered in lilac lace boy shorts that clung to her like a second skin. The crop top she wore that exposed her smooth midriff and teasingly almost exposed her pert little breasts on more than one instance. And the softness of her lovely lips and how they felt on hers. The urge to touch yourself returns and you find your hand almost moving under its own power towards your panty covered sex.

A lightning flash and almost immediate clap of thunder bring you back to your senses, but you realize you're breathing heavily from desire. A moment later there's a soft knock on your bedroom door. It opens slowly and you can see it's Mia, the dim light of the hallway silhouetting her delicate figure. She seems scared.

"Mommy? It's a scary storm. Can I crawl into bed with you?"