Maho pulled the Nishizumi family car up to the front roundabout of the Shimada mansion. She sat back in her seat, buckle still fastened, and bit her lip, a soft grunt escaping her throat. A boiling sensation, followed by a satisfying ejaculation into the mouth of her skillful girlfriend.

Erika neatly tucked Maho's penis back into her pants and swallowed. "All that and your driving was still impeccable."

Maho sighed. "You sound disappointed. Were you hoping for a few bumps in the road?"

"I'm not that masochistic, Maho."

"I wonder." Maho checked her wrist watch. "6:59. I must go now."

She unbuckled her seatbelt and made to move, but Erika put her hand on her shoulder. "Wait." A kiss. A deep one, in fact. "Love you."

"Love you, too." Maho brushed the hairs out of Erika's face. "I'll be right back, okay?"

"Mmh." Another kiss, then Maho was out of the car.

At approximately seven o'clock post meridiem Maho knocked on the Shimada manor's front door, punctual as always. A particularly well-endowed maid greeted her, bowing so that Maho could get a good look at the contents of her low rising corset. Plentiful was the word that came to mind, though Maho was more interested in the French design of the costume.

The maid was cognizant of Maho's gaze, and so teased her collar down. "Would the Madam Nishizumi like a taste while she waits?"

Maho shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, but my mother will be any minute now."

The maid nodded. "I will alert Madam Alice and Madam Miho of your arrival then. Pardon me."

"Thank you." The maid then proceeded down the hall to which Maho noticed the alarming detail of a Shimada signature stamped onto the woman's thigh. No matter how often I come here, I'll never get used to this place, she thought to herself.

True to Maho's intuition, Shiho and Chiyo walked down the stairs together, notably, Maho observed, hand in hand. "Maho-chan!" The Japanese beauty called. "So good to see you again!"

"Hello again, Shimada-sensei."

"Oh please, darling," she chided. "How many times do I have to tell you to call me Chiyo?"

"Yes, ma'am. My apologies."

Chiyo huffed. "So stiff. You're definitely your mother's daughter, you know that?" She beckoned Maho closer and knelt over slightly. "Come, come, give auntie a hug now."

Maho obliged, a brief embrace ensuing. What she didn't necessarily oblige was the French styled kiss on each of her cheeks. She was beginning to notice a trend of Frenchism in Chiyo's sensibilities.

Shiho stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. "Did your date go alright, dear?"

"It did," Maho said, trying to ignore Chiyo's hand still tracing circles on her shoulder. "Thank you for asking."

Chiyo giggled. "Such a polite girl, as always." She then whispered into the younger girl's ear. "But you must know that despite your formalities your breath reeks of something wonderful."

Maho blushed. "Y-yes ma'am. My apologies."

"Must you tease the poor girl, Chiyo?" Shiho asked.

"I can't help it. Not when she's this cute." She leaned her face closer. "Won't you give me a better kiss than simple cheek play, Maho-chan? I'd love to know what that smell is all about—"

Shiho yanked her lover back by the cheek. "No sexually harrassing my daughter."

"Fine, fine," she groaned. "I hope that same rule doesn't apply to you, though."

Maho's blush intensified. She sought her mother's face for comfort, but was mortified to see it was similarly red. Shiho tried not to acknowledge her daughter's stare. "Curse you and your games, Chiyo."

"Ah, yes. A game," she said. "In that case I'll try to hold my tongue next time we're between the bed sheets."

Shiho rolled her eyes. "You're impossible."

"Speak for yourself." Chiyo grinned, but her lover wasn't quite so amused.

It was around that time that Miho joined the women in the lobby. More than anyone in the room she reeked of sex, though she herself was oblivious to just how pugnant the odor was. "Mother, Nee-san," she said, a small bow. "Sorry to make you wait."

Chiyo crossed her arms. "And where would my daughter happen to be right now?"

Miho scratched her head and chuckled. "She's still in her room with her maid."

"That little deviant, can't even pull out long enough to see her friend off," she huffed. Miho continued to play off the awkwardness by laughing, but in truth she and Alice had both plowed her maid hard in that short time since Maho arrived. She honestly would have rather kept at it, but knowing her mother as the stickler for time that she was, foregoing her libido was mandatory if she wanted to avoid a stern talking to.

"Shall we get going then?" Maho asked. "I wouldn't want to leave Erika waiting too long."

"Yes, we should be on our way." Shiho turned to Chiyo, a moment of earnestness passing between them as she cupped her lover's cheek. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

Chiyo nestled into Shiho's hand. "See you soon." They kissed and bid their farewells, though despite the saccharine impression Shiho just knew that Chiyo was about to walk straight to her daughter's room for extra sex. It bugged her a bit, what with their previous confessions and all, but there was no changing a woman of her stride. Not that late into the game, at least.

Maho loaded back into the driver's seat while Miho and Shiho sat in the back. Erika, of course, greeted them with courtesy outside before returning to shotgun, though she mostly just received a nod from Shiho. Miho was more pleasant, waving neighborly while sneakily checking out her thighs. Boy were they just daring in that skirt.

The drive was about as awkward as usual. Erika dared not say a word above the tone of a whisper, and Maho refused to take her eyes off the road out of fear of reprimand. Miho led most of the conversation, inquiring about her sister's date, to which she was only given the surface bits of tea. Walk about the town, reservations at a fancy Italian restaurant, hand holding by the pond. What was coyly left out of their testimony was their quick trip to an adult toy store and their subsequent stint at a local love hotel that lasted the better half of their free time. Maho, ever the veteran, had, of course, delegated their freshly cleaned paraphernalia to the trunk, perfectly out of sight of her mother and zipped up within an unassuming duffle bag that she would retrieve at a later time and for a later use.

When it came to topics regarding sex the Nishizumi household was rather strict. Shiho would accompany her youngest on a play date wherein the sexual connotations were clear as day and out in the open, yet Shiho did not want it verbalized. She was an old guard of Sexshadou, the type of professional who handled diplomacy behind closed doors. A direct address to private matters, regardless of their public consciousness, indicated a lack of tact at best and insubordination at worst. "Tanks are best left on the battlefield rather than in the living room." A motto she repeated on occasion.

Modern parenting had curved a different route than Shiho's, however. Mothers were beginning to discuss matters of sex and sexuality openly, even partaking in their daughters' social habits to encourage or stimulate growth. Traditionally their society had relied on sport as a vehicle for sexual expression with Sexshadou being the most prominent, but after decades of cultural and generational exchange, the actions which had once been exclusive to the battlefield had begun to bleed over into home and school life. The result was a kind of circumscribed globalism as radically diverse as it was incestuous and matrilineal. For Japan it marked a return to its older household system where a great deal of respect was given to elders, though the eye-popping way it now progressed ushered in a new matriarchal golden age, one that was egalitarian in principle and Simmelian in practice.

For Shiho such free flowing sexuality was coarse. She had been raised on a philosophy of autonomy and decorum, regardless of whether such ethics contradicted the lewd nature of Sexshadou and its accompanying bureaucratic practices. Although she had once felt the desire to express herself openly as a young girl, she had convinced herself during the twilight of her adulthood that suppressing such shameless ideals was the quickest pipeline to sophistication, for thems were the politics of the elite.

Now Shiho glanced at her daughters with predatory eyes, frankly embarrassed by the perverse thoughts Chiyo had instilled within her. Although she remembered a time in her adolescence when she too desired her mother sexually, she could hardly bring herself to remember those desires fully. Could sexual intimacy really bridge years worth of estrangement between her and her daughters? Was there really no better method? For once she found it difficult to think one move ahead, let alone three. There truly was only one way to find out.

Maho pulled into the Itsumi family driveway and put their car in park. She addressed her mother through the rear view mirror. "Do you mind if I escort Erika to her house?"

Shiho nodded. "Naturally. Take your time, dear."

"Thank you." Maho unbuckled and stepped out of the car. She walked around to the side and opened the door for Erika.

Erika stepped out alongside Maho, but moved to Shiho's window. She rolled it down so Erika could properly bow in her presence. "Thank you for allowing us your vehicle tonight, Miss Nishizumi. Your courtesy is very much appreciated."

Shiho, again, nodded. "It was my pleasure. Please have a good night."

"Thank you, ma'am." Erika then turned to Miho. "Goodnight Miho. It was nice talking to you again."

"Goodnight Erika! Sleep well!"

Another bow, then Erika followed Maho to her doorstep. Miho, of course, kept her eyes on the prize: Erika's legs. She couldn't help herself. Erika might have been her sister's girlfriend, but her skirt just really complimented her professional composure in a way that made picturing her in lewd situations that much more enticing.

Upon slinking past the Itsuki estate's front door, all of Erika's professionalism melted into rabid lust and lip locking as Maho backed her against the wall. Her hand went straight to Erika's thighs, pushing her skirt upwards to brush against her thin underwear. Miho wasn't the only girl checking out Erika's legs. Maho could barely keep her eyes on the road knowing that they were sat so neatly beside her. The absolute territory between where her leggings hugged her skin and her skirt teased something greater… even Maho had her limits.

Erika purred as Maho marched her graze across her flesh. "Pin me against the wall, Maho! Make love to me!"

Her panties were promptly pulled to the side.

Back in the car, Shiho contemplated. If Chiyo was right (and regrettably, Chiyo was often right), then she would have to make the first move. The thought frightened her to no end, however, as once the plan was enacted there would be no going back. All of the rules and procedures she had spent her life preaching would immediately be rendered nil, and should her encroachments fail Miho and Maho would never believe in her ever again, for they, more than anybody, would understand her as a hypocrite and a lecher.

How did Chiyo do it? How did she open herself up so clearly to Alice without betraying her loyalties? How did she gauge her daughter's interest? Bug her bedroom? Wiretap her maids? Surely anything was better than bluntly hitting on one's offspring, let alone hitting on two of them.

"Mother?"

Shiho snapped to attention. "I'm sorry Miho. What was your question?"

"Did you and Miss Shimada have fun, mother?"

Shiho paused. "Yes. I think so. Did you and Alice?"

"Yes, we had lots of fun." It was truly shocking just how thick the odor of sex radiated off of Miho. The girl looked as energetic and clean as when they first arrived at the Shimada manor, yet the smell clarified the before and the after. Just what in God's name did the two of them do together?

Shiho re-focused herself. "Chiyo told me something interesting today about her and Alice."

Miho blushed. "What did she say?"

Chiyo brushed her tresses behind her ear in an attempt to mask her embarrassment. "She says she and Alice have become lovers. Can you believe that?"

"N-no," Miho said, clutching her skirt. "I can't."

Hesitance. Shiho would have to tread more carefully. "Did Alice mention anything about it to you?"

Miho nodded, eyes downcast. "She did. She said she and Miss Shimada had been having… that they were in bed together at night."

"What do you think of it, Miho? Such an illicit relationship between mother and daughter?"

If Shiho was confident of anything it was her daughter's honesty, even in the face of such staunch opposition. The girl was a fearless commander in her own way, willing to throw herself into the line of fire if it meant protecting something, be that her comrades or the ideals that defined her. Surely posing the question in such a matter of fact manner would pressure the girl tremendously, but if Shiho was to expect an answer, this would be the only way.

What Shiho didn't expect, however, was for Miho to lift her head defiantly and look her square in the eye. A clear trepidation underlied her gaze, like one of marching into the heart of a storm, yet its conviction was unwavering. "I think it's wonderful," she said. "For a mother and daughter to know each other so intimately. I'm envious."

Shiho's eyes widened briefly. "I see."

A second passed, then a few more. And on what was approximately the tenth second of silence, Miho's face erupted in crimson. Her hitherto penetrating gaze shifted meekly to her lap, whereupon she clutched at the hem of her skirt. "W-what I mean is, I'm happy that Alice and Miss Shimada feel so comfortable with each other. Alice was always worried about her mother's acceptance."

Shiho steadied her breathing. She hadn't experienced a stare down that tense in months. Her own curiosity and nervousness was beginning to take hold of her, and in a careless blunder she asked, with aggression in her voice: "Are you the same way?"

Miho flinched. Rather than rise to meet the offense, her posture further slumped, her face becoming more and more obscured by her hanging tresses. "I don't know."

I don't know. The answer was not a confirmation, but far more importantly it was not a denial. This was all Shiho needed to understand that a sexual relationship was not categorically impossible between the two, but rather was more likely to be accepted by the girl than rejected. This fact was not lost on Miho. She knew deep down that she would rather mate with her mother than be apart from her, but she was honest in her answer. They had been estranged for so long. To move so jarringly from a fragmented family to humping, while certainly an idyllic fantasy, was far too surreal for her to consider… v-viable?

A hand massaged her thigh. The hand of her mother. It rubbed up and down her skin, comforting in a motherly way, yet somehow daring. That hand so tenderly warmed her thigh, never going so far as her knee, yet slowly, gradually inching towards her groin. Miho was petrified. Her cheeks burned. She wasn't sure what to do.

"You know, Miho." Shiho took a deep breath. This was to be her final counterstrike, but it would have to be one of pathos. There was no other way to solder the wire. Miho had always thought in feelings. She was a girl of compassion. If Shiho wanted to build a new trust—to be a better mother—she would have to match her daughter's empathy.

"You know, Miho. I too have felt it. Long ago when I was a girl no older than you are now. I'd look at my mother with admiration, pride, dignity, but even more secretly with desire. I still remember the glow I saw around her when she was proud of me, how angelic she looked, and how madly I fantasized about her. I was always desperate for her approval."

Miho's heart beat so loudly that it nearly obfuscated her mother's words, yet she listened with ambivalence.

"There came a day, Miho, a day that I've never forgotten and which I felt great shame about for years. I happened upon my mother scantily dressed in her bedroom. An accident, mind you, but not one without ramifications. When a woman glimpses something forbidden, something she ought not to know or see, yet for which she yearns to understand, she becomes tormented by her own lack of that something.

"After witnessing my mother bare, I became aware of two things: One, her humorous reaction to seeing me so bashful made it clear that she did not see me as a sexual entity despite how desperately I wanted her to. And two, in understanding this, it dawned on me that all of my fantasies will only ever be fantasies, and all of my desires would go unrequited. That woman for whom I longed so intensely would gleefully go about the rest of her life without ever knowing of my lust, and I would go about mine without ever knowing her as anything more than a mentor.

"That night, while I was in the bath, I played back the image of my mother in my head, reimagining various scenarios. Reinterpreting the exact contours of her body until I could no longer tell if the idealized image of her in my head was even the same woman I had witnessed before. All I did know was that I was deathly attracted to my mother, more so than any of the girls in my school, and more so than any of my competitors in Sexshadou. That attraction, of which to this day I don't fully understand, overwhelmed me in that moment, and I touched myself. I touched myself while saying her name. Not 'Mother' or 'Mama,' but her birth name."

Shiho sighed. "I was so ashamed of myself then. I felt I had in some way betrayed her and became much stricter with myself as a result. You can probably guess where things went from there." She continued to rub her daughter's thigh, its plushness alleviating her nerves. "Miho, do you and your friends ever gossip about your mothers?"

A still petrified Miho nodded. "Sometimes."

"What do you girls say? Be honest."

Miho trembled, but the sight of her mother's hand, so warm and caring against her skin, reassured her. "We talk about each other's mothers a lot. About how attractive they are. About how we'd like to sneak around the neighborhood to enjoy their company." She slouched further slightly. "But really that's an excuse for us to vent our frustrations. About our own mothers."

Shiho hummed in understanding. "It was the same for us when we were girls. Some girls even traded old photos and Sexshadou tapes featuring their mothers. Though when you think about it they had to have been much younger in those tapes." She chuckled. "Why do you suppose girls come to desire their mothers so much, Miho?"

"I'm not so sure," she said. "Perhaps that's just the daughter's role."

"The daughter's role?" Shiho asked.

"Yes. Sort of how, like, we always mention how a mother must act certain ways towards their daughters. Caring. Nurturing. Judicious. It's a little unfair when you think about it. How can a daughter just take all of that without ever wanting to return it? It's from the pleasure of mating that a girl is born, so shouldn't it also be the pleasure of mating that a girl expresses her gratitude for having been born?"

Shiho paused. "I never considered it that way." She retracted her hand and crossed her legs. "Miho, the world has changed since I was your age. Mothers openly romance their daughters just as daughters openly flirt with their mothers. I've tried to ignore the times as though they don't apply to myself and my kin, but doing so was a foolish endeavor that has only hurt you and Maho the same way I was hurt when I was a girl. From now on, I want you to be honest with me about your desires. I want you to have the things that I could never have so you don't waste your youth on regret as I did."

Miho perked up. "But mother…!" She halted, her body slumping, then looked away.

Shiho's heart skipped a beat. "What is it, Miho?"

The young girl shut her eyes. "How can I be honest with you without knowing?"

"Knowing what? Please tell me, Miho. Knowing what?"

Miho clutched her skirt. "Like your mother. It can't just be me. I have to know whether you see me the same way that I see you. That you're not simply doing this out of pity or charity."

It was a rare occurrence, surely, but it was an immediately regrettable one for Shiho. Upon hearing her daughter's words, she snapped back. "Do you think the great Nishizumi would stoop so low as to look at her daughter with pity?"

Silence. The most oppressive response by either of them, marking whatever dialogue they had just had in uncertainty and contention. Miho began to feel her heart beat faster. She knew saying such a promiscuous thing risked her mother's favor, but she couldn't help it. What she felt now was as clear as day. Her attraction was no longer masked by fiction. It had been dredged to the surface, unearthed regardless of whether she accepted it or not. It wasn't simply respect she held for the older woman: it was desire; a pure, unadulterated yearning for physical and emotional reciprocation. Subtext was now a foregone conclusion. Her lust had been verbalized for the both of them to hear.

She was scared. She didn't know what to do. Who to turn to. She had spent so long in isolation from her family. To risk burning those bridges again. The thought threatened to consume her.

"Miho." Her mother's voice was much closer. Softer, too. Wrapped in a gentile whisper. Tickling her ear. Her hand was overtaken by her mother's, so compassionate and warm. "I'm sorry. Will you look at me, Miho?"

With great hesitance and a quaking fear, Miho persuaded the muscles in her body to go against her fight reflexes and turn. Away from the safety of empty space beside her and towards the object of all her anxieties. The woman for whom her entire life she had never known how to face with confidence.

But that woman met her timid gaze with sympathy and leaned forward. Beyond the closest proximity Miho had ever known her to. Past the point where their noses brushed ever so slightly and towards a destination far more remedying than anything Miho had ever known.

Their lips pressed together. Squishing. Sinking into one another's softness. Temporarily conjoining. Her mother's mouth parted, intertwining them. Kissing her. Her hand still firmly atop her own. Her other hand caressing her cheek. Tongues colliding.

Miho sat in shock until every nerve in her body gave out. All of the tension that had kept her stiff released, and she collapsed into her mother's embrace. She rotated her hand, spreading her fingers so as to interlock with Shiho's, just as her eyes fell heavy under the curtain of relief.

Shiho broke the kiss, leaving a dazzled Miho to purse her lips at the air. "Miho, dear," she began. "My most precious child for whom I would give my life. I have not been a mother to you. Your whole life you have only ever known me as Commander, but no more. I long for the day that you will know me as your mother first and foremost, and, given time, I hope you will even come to know me in some respects not as Nishizumi, but as Shiho."

Tears welled in Miho's eyes. Her chin quivered. "Mama," she murmured. "I've missed you so much, Mama."

Shiho hugged Miho close, patting her back while she sniffled. When was the last time Shiho had been so moved? Far too long, she thought. Far too long. "I love you, Miho," she said. "I love you more than I can bear. Every day that passes I think how blessed I am to have you as my daughter."

Miho wiped her eyes. "Kiss me again. Please."

Shiho pulled away, drying the tears still staining her daughter's cheeks. "Ready?"

"Sorry," Miho said, sniffling again. "I'm ready. I love you."

Her mother cupped her chin and leaned in. Their lips reacquainted themselves, this time with a much more enthusiastic greeting. Mouths were moving and tongues were flying, making-out in the truest sense of the term. Miho had to stifle a moan. Her mother was just so commandeering. There was no discussion over whose territory was whose, because Shiho planted her flag wherever she set foot. Her tongue would trace circles around Miho's, giving her no route for escape before her lips would slurp it up.

Miho could do nothing against her mother. She didn't want to do anything against her. The unorthodox attack patterns her mother deployed left her unable to predict where Shiho's lips and tongue would target next, and the ambiguity was, quite frankly, addictive. The overwhelming helplessness she felt at the hands of her mother, the way her glare beat down upon her very soul between kisses. It was the perfect catharsis for her years of uncertainty and fear. For all the evenings spent behind a locked bedroom door fantasizing about this exact scenario, hoping that the day would come when her mother acknowledged her as a woman rather than a disappointment.

Once again, Shiho separated the kiss, smirking at the mess she had made of her daughter's face. "So cute," she mused. Her eyes trailed down to Miho's breasts, all supple and snug within her sailor suit. Oh how Shiho just adored a woman in uniform. Further down the line Shiho found a most pleasant surprise, one far more pronounced than even the respectable mounds that were Miho's chest. "Now isn't that just the most beautiful thing."

Miho, in her languid state, followed her mother's eyeline and saw it. Standing tall and at absolute attention was a throbbing erection, cloaked by Miho's short, green skirt and seeming to salute Shiho with how high it rose. Shiho's hand returned to its place on her daughter's thigh, only this time it slinked underneath the cloth, carefully maneuvering around Miho's now stretched panties and wrapping its fingers firmly around the burning shaft.

Miho shuddered, unable to pry her eyes away from the suggestive motions that were presently occurring beneath her skirt. She flinched at the sudden pleasure of her mother's skilled yet gentle touch, a moan getting caught in her throat. "Mama!" She panted.

Shiho cupped her daughter's chin, forcing her gaze back onto her. "You're so hard, Miho." Her head steadily dove at Miho's neck, a flurry of rough kisses peppering her skin. All the while her hand worked a magic that only a dozen other women had ever had the honor of experiencing, pumping at an agonizingly irregular rhythm unlike anything Miho had felt before. Her fingers slid up and over her member, dipping as far down as to her groin before springing back up to graze her frenulum and skim overtop the skin of her fidgety cockhead. Her pre-ejaculate would moisten the sides of Shiho's fingers with each layover at the tip only to be redistributed along the shaft on its hike back down.

Miho was unabashedly hopeless. Airy breaths were all the protest she could muster, themselves a mere appetizer for the main dish which Shiho so hungrily craved. "Let it out, Miho," she said, now licking around her ear. "Let me hear my daughter's voice."

Miho acquiesced. Her mouth hung ajar, deep moans emanating out from her throat. Her eyebrows furrowed uncontrollably, heightening her lascivious expression as her eyelids tried their damndest not to block out the beautiful visage of her mother. Shiho watched tentatively as pleasure reconfigured every expression on Miho's face. It was as though she and she alone were being treated to a timelapse of her daughter's orgasm, pride filling her person for her hand was the sole source of all of Miho's euphoria. Every moan caused her heart to lurch, desperation to draw out more and more of her daughter's sounds and expressions propelling her hand to stroke faster.

"Mama!" Miho yelped, her legs spread, skirt fallen over her girth. "I can't hold it much longer!"

"Let it all out, Miho. Cum for your mother!"

A final arch of Miho's back, followed by the radical tilting of her head. She clenched her mother's coat with one hand and the cushion of the seat with the other. Her voice rang out loudly, filling each corner and crevice of the car with no regard for being heard outside. "I'm cumming!"

Shiho swiftly and elegantly dove towards her daughter's crotch, opening her mouth wide so as to swallow her erupting cock.

"Ahh!" Miho gasped. "Ahh! Ahhhhh!" She couldn't believe her mother's lips were wrapped around her spout, nor could she believe how eagerly she slurped, sucked, and licked her erection. The sight was too much. Her orgasm, at the very last second, grew wilder than she could have known, too excited to expunge her cream into her mother's throat; to lodge it deep inside so as never to be separated from the moisture and warmth it so dutifully provided.

Semen hit the back of Shiho's throat, but she was not deterred. Instead she scooped up Miho's balls in her hand and massaged them intensively, coaxing out every last ounce of cum within. Each rope of cum that pelted her throat was enthusiastically swallowed down in order to make room for the next, and she humbly accepted it all with an audible sigh. Not once did she ever gag or burp, even as Miho bucked her hips. A true veteran if ever there was one.

When Miho had cum as much as she could, Shiho lifted her head and gulped down a hefty load left in her mouth. She then dipped back down and cleaned whatever semen was left on Miho's now flaccid cock with her white-dyed tongue.

Miho heaved in her seat, too overwhelmed. She was used to sensory overload on the battlefield, but never had she been as struck by shellshock as she was watching her mother clean her dick. Somehow her manner of licking seemed so formal and professional despite how lewd it was. Whatever the case, Miho relaxed into her seat, a smile adorning her face. "That was the best handjob I've ever had, Mama."

Shiho pulled her lips away from her daughter's smelly cock, herself smiling back at Miho. "I wasn't a commander for nothing, girl." She rested her head on her daughter's shoulder, holding onto her arm like a schoolgirl in love.

Miho tucked her cock back into her panties, then flipped her skirt back down to hide the still throbbing bulge within. "Maho sure is late, huh?"

"She's probably plowing Erika behind the front door as we speak."

"Hmm? Wish I could join," Miho murmured.

"Me too." Shiho went back to rubbing her daughter's thighs, though this time she let her hands creep much farther up Miho's leg than before. "Miho?" She asked.

"Yes, mother?"

"When Maho gets back I want the three of us to have a long, long talk about the future."

"Yes, mother 3"

The first step to repairing relations had been a resounding success. Now it was on to the second step: Nishizumi Maho.

To be continued…