The Unfilial Daughter (2)
To a mother, it would feel as if her daughter had suddenly gone off the rails.
"Why is your waist so slender?"
But from Piel's perspective, that wasn't quite the case. Two years had already passed since she first became aware of her lustful feelings toward her mother, and this vermilion-haired woman—blood relation or not—had a tendency to press far too close without any sense of restraint. Considering her beauty and her intoxicating scent, it might have been more abnormal not to go mad.
"Is it because you're always shaking it around?"
Darin did not immediately grasp the meaning of her daughter's words. After a moment of blank confusion, she merely flushed, as if something about it struck a guilty nerve.
"P-Piel. What on earth are you saying to your mother right now?"
"It's not like I said anything untrue, is it?"
And as the conversation with her daughter continued, that suspicion hardened into certainty. Her daughter had witnessed her parents' relations and was now reproaching her for them.
In truth, it would not have been strange for it to come out at any time. She had tried to be careful in her own way, but the Viscount had never particularly considered her circumstances.
When I look at you, my mind goes completely blank and I turn into a beast. What nonsense. Blinded by lust, he made excuses that did not even make sense.
Even now, Darin resented her husband. In the end, hadn't Piel found out? The hand of her daughter, who was pressing down on her protruding lips, held only a weak force—but force nonetheless. A dull ache was already rising.
Still, why on earth is Piel...?
She understood the reason for the reproach, but she could not fathom the origin of that emotion. Darin herself had known that her parents engaged in marital relations, yet she had never made an issue of it. That was usually how children were.
Moreover, Piel was a proper young woman who had come of age. Unless she were a complete fool, she could not possibly be ignorant of relations between men and women, or of how children were born. Above all, it was Darin herself who had educated her on the matter, so the question only grew larger.
"Kyaah!"
That was when it happened. Piel seized her mother's smooth thighs with both hands and pulled her into her embrace. In an instant they were face to face, in a position much like the one she assumed with her husband during face-to-face intercourse.
"Piel!?"
Blood relation or not, same sex or not—the posture was far too embarrassing. If Piel were still a small child, setting her on her lap would not have been strange, but Piel was already a young lady, was she not? And with the one being held being the mother rather than the daughter, the whole picture became even more peculiar.
As the mother cried out in shock, the water that filled the large bathtub surged and sent waves rippling. Darin felt a strange revulsion rise and resisted her daughter's strength, but Piel paid it no mind and locked her reluctant mother firmly within her arms. She even pressed her lips to the white shoulder that peeked out between wet strands of hair.
"Hik!?"
Despite loving her children more than her husband, the chill that ran through her was worse than when she joined her body with his. Dragged this way and that before she could even grasp the situation, Darin could not collect her wits.
"Mother always says she hates Father, so why do you work your hips so hard?"
The daughter's words of reproach carried a faint undercurrent of anger. She was furious that her mother let her guard down so completely just because it was her daughter, and she resented a mother who claimed to hate her husband so much yet clearly enjoyed sex with him.
"Did you know? Sometimes when we sleep together, you rub your thighs against me without even realizing it? Ever since I was little you've always put on that refined act..."
Two years had worn her patience down to the bare floor. She knew she should not speak so cruelly to a mother who had once been the victim of a bridal kidnapping, yet the harsh words spilled out anyway. And it pained her that the person unconsciously seducing her was her own mother. If this woman had been some noble princess instead, she would have seduced her and made her a lover.
"Mother, don't you actually want Father to fuck you?"
There was no laughter in the daughter's vulgar remark. It did not sound like a joke at all. Her daughter's behavior was clearly off, yet Darin still could not make sense of the situation. She hated the way their plump breasts pressed together, and the blue eyes glaring at her were a burden as well.
Darin parted her lips, then had to close them again. Her mind had gone blank as a sheet of paper from the sudden outburst. How was a mother supposed to react when her daughter called her promiscuous? She had received plenty of education from the nannies for the children's sake, but no curriculum covered this.
And because her daughter's words did not seem entirely wrong, she felt ashamed. Sexual intercourse that had been nothing but torment only a few years ago had grown familiar. It was not as if she could lay all the blame on her husband—there had been times when she trembled and flushed as that thing plowed through her crimson flesh.
The daughter pulled her quietly bowed mother tightly into her arms. Just the press of breast against breast brought a tremendous thrill. To further satisfy her selfish desire, she gently rubbed their nipples together as well. Her own nipples were a shade darker than her mother's, but as mother and daughter they shared many similarities in form. That sense of kinship, far from breeding revulsion, only made her lust surge higher.
"Why won't they get hard?"
"Huh...?"
But even as she lightly brushed nipple against nipple, only her own grew firm. Her mother's nipples remained soft and pliant, as if they knew nothing at all—yet when she joined her body with Father, they would stand so angrily erect...
Was Mother simply uninterested in women? Or was the problem that she was her own blood? It was truly heartless.
Her own nipples, which rarely grew hard no matter how many times she played with them, had visibly stiffened. That sensitivity was so sharp that even the brush of soft breast flesh was almost painful.
"Mama, Mama..."
Without meaning to, the word "Mama" slipped out instead of "Mother." This was how Piel had always wanted to cling and act spoiled with her mother. Sexual dependence was not something a daughter should do to her mother, so she had simply held it back all this time.
After rubbing their nipples together, she nuzzled her face between those full, risen breasts. It was not even a proper sex act, yet the mere soft touch of flesh made slick fluid trickle from between her legs. If this had been a bed rather than a bathroom, Piel's sex would probably have been swollen to bursting.
Then she slipped her hands under the armpits and slowly kneaded the ample breasts from the outside in. Darin realized her daughter's hands were gradually working their way toward her nipples and let out a scream.
"W-Wait, what are you doing right now!?"
It was not as if her daughter had regressed to infancy, yet the way she was acting spoiled was strange. Darin twisted her body this way and that while still locked chest-to-chest with Piel. Lacking strength, it was little more than a petulant squirm, but she resisted with all she had.
"P-Piel! Let go! I said let go!"
"Does Mama hate her daughter?"
"That's not the issue... Ngh!?"
As the daughter asked the question while tugging on the entire nipple including the areola, the mother's body shuddered. They had often shared physical affection, but never in this form.
"I like Mama, though."
The daughter pressed her lips to her mother's chin and made soft smacking sounds. She had wanted to go higher, but her mother shoved her face away with both hands and sharply turned her head, which displeased her.
Darin felt an unfathomable denseness in the blue eyes looking into hers. Yet even at this point she still could not grasp her daughter's intent. The situation was simply too absurd. The sudden physical advances from a daughter whose relationship with her had been growing more distant made no sense either.
Was she disappointed that her mother only kept avoiding her affectionate gaze? Piel gave up on meeting her eyes and looked downward. On those milk-white breasts, the vivid red-and-purple marks left by a man stood out harshly. Darin had been conscious of them and had erased them with a magical tool, but she could not fool the eyes of a daughter who was a mage.
Not only the soft-looking breasts, but the collarbones carved in gentle curves, the rounded shoulders, the slender neckline like a doe's, even the tiny hands—there was not a single place that was not lovely. To think her father had monopolized a body like this all to himself... Piel's eyes spun with surging jealousy.
Moreover, as a Viscountess she carefully washed every corner of her body and even put on clumsy makeup. But what was the point of any of it? Just like the marks remaining on her breasts, Father would soil it all and wipe it away again.
She was a woman too, so she understood her mother's heart and could show her far more consideration. The only flaw was that she lacked a cock. But if fingers could not replace a cock, she would put her fist in instead. The texture might be a bit lacking, but she could mimic the tightness. Considering Father's size, it might even be less of a burden than taking a cock.
Haahp.
Unable to hold back her lust for her mother any longer, Piel's tongue soon coiled around the plump, full breast...
"Kyaaugh!"
The mother let out a strange sound that was neither quite a scream nor a moan.