Vivian Succumbs

Vivien’s fingers loosened on the bedpost.

She took one step. Then another. The soft sound of her bare feet on the floorboards was the only noise in the room besides Violet’s breathing. When she reached the side of the bed she stopped again, close enough that the hem of her robe brushed Violet’s knee.

Violet’s hand stilled between her legs but did not pull away. She looked up at her mother and waited.

Vivien’s eyes moved over her. The thin dress rucked high on her thighs. The wet shine on her fingers. The open invitation in her face. Something in Vivien’s expression finally broke. She exhaled a shaky breath and reached out.

Her hand closed gently around Violet’s wrist and drew it away from her body. For a second Violet thought her mother might stop everything. Instead Vivien brought those slick fingers to her own mouth and tasted them.

The soft sound she made went straight through Violet.

Vivien climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight. She settled between Violet’s open knees, robe falling open, and looked down at her daughter like she was seeing her for the first time.

“This is wrong,” Vivien whispered.

“I know.”

Vivien kissed her anyway.

The first touch of her mouth was careful, almost questioning. Violet answered by parting her lips and letting her mother in. The kiss deepened fast. Vivien’s tongue slid against hers, soft and wet and hungry. One of her hands found Violet’s breast under the dress and cupped it, thumb brushing the tight nipple until Violet arched into the touch.

Vivien broke the kiss only long enough to pull the dress up and off. Then her mouth was on Violet’s throat, her collarbone, the upper curve of her breast. When she closed her lips around one nipple and sucked, Violet’s hips lifted off the bed with a broken little sound.

“Mom…”

Vivien made a low answering noise against her skin and kept going. Her hand slid down Violet’s stomach, over the soft hair between her legs, and found her soaking. Two fingers pressed inside without resistance. Violet’s cunt clenched around them immediately.

Vivien lifted her head and watched her daughter’s face while she fucked her with those careful fingers. Slow at first. Then deeper. The wet sound of it filled the quiet room. Violet’s hands fisted in the sheets. Her thighs trembled.

“You’re so wet for me,” Vivien murmured. Almost disbelieving.

Violet could only nod, breathless, chasing the movement of her mother’s hand. When Vivien’s thumb found her clit and started rubbing tight circles, the pleasure spiked hard and fast. Violet came with a soft, startled cry, hips rolling against her mother’s fingers, eyes squeezed shut.

Vivien worked her through it, gentle now, until Violet’s body went soft and shaking. Then she leaned down and kissed her again, slower this time, while her fingers stayed buried inside her.

Outside the room the Murder House remained silent.

Inside it, nothing was.