I remember it was raining that October afternoon, the gray day heralding winter. Sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace, I lowered my gaze for at least the tenth time at the Polaroid photos I clutched in my hand.

One of the young women in the photos was someone I’d never seen before, but the one kneeling between the stranger’s legs was all too familiar. It was Cassandra, my twenty-two-year-old stepdaughter, back from college for the weekend. Even though in most shots Cassie’s face was buried in the other woman’s exposed pussy, there was no doubt who it was. Or what she was doing.

As shocked as I was by the photos I’d discovered in my stepdaughter’s old drawer, I felt a strange—and not unpleasant—quiver deep in my belly as I stared at them.

Sighing, I leaned my head against the backrest and closed my eyes. It wasn’t that Cassie didn’t date men, I thought. The phone we’d gifted her years ago rang nonstop when she was home. Often when I answered for her, some anxious boy was on the other end. Sure, women called her too, but Cassie had so many girlfriends I’d never paid it much mind.

I reopened my eyes and looked at the photos again. The woman my stepdaughter was eating out was truly pretty. Short blonde hair and a graceful face, sitting on the edge of a chair with her skirt hiked to her waist and legs spread. A hint of a smile curled her lips, as if she immensely enjoyed what Cassie was doing to her. With one hand, her fingers were tangled in my stepdaughter’s brown hair, almost urging her on.

I vaguely wondered who’d taken the photos while unconsciously unbuttoning my jeans. Barely aware of my actions, I stared at the provocative shots as I slipped a hand under my panties’ waistband. I slid between my pubic hair, curling my fingers into the cleft of my pussy and beginning to massage my swollen labia.

My breath hitched when the tip of my index finger found my clit, and suddenly I was masturbating feverishly. I was so focused on the sensations that I didn’t even hear the front door open when my stepdaughter came home. I only noticed her presence when she snorted loudly.

“Stepmom? In the middle of the day?”

I yanked my hand from my panties and sat upright on the couch, clumsily trying to refasten my jeans. My eyes nearly popped out as I watched the blonde removing her coat by the door.

“Cassandra,” I stammered, “what are you doing home? I thought you were with friends!” I glanced at the wall clock. “It’s only twelve-thirty… why are you back so early?”

“Relax, stepmom,” she said, laughter still in her voice. “We canceled plans because of the rain.”

Then, as she approached, she saw the photos I still held. I genuinely watched the blood drain from her face, her smile vanishing.

“Oh wow… how did you find those photos? I thought I’d hidden them well.” She sat next to me on the couch and snatched the photos from my hand. Then an expression of understanding lit up her eyes. “Oh wow… they turned you on, didn’t they? These pics of me and Barb got you wet. That’s why you were doing your usual ‘quick finger mambo,’ right?”

I knew I couldn’t lie. Every word my stepdaughter said was true.

“Yes,” I admitted, feeling heat spread across my face. “I suppose I was, sweetheart. But Cassie… are you… I mean… you…”

“A lesbian?” she finished. “No, I’d say more bisexual. I like men too, but I love variety me and Barbara have fun together sometimes, like in the photos. Hey! That reminds me! Why were you going through my stuff anyway?”

“I wasn’t snooping, sweetheart!” I protested. “I was looking for things to donate to Caritas. I stumbled on the photos by accident.”

Suddenly I realized Cassie was staring at my lap. Looking down, I saw I hadn’t managed to fasten my jeans. They hung open, exposing my panties and the dark shadow of my pubic triangle. Still, I made no move to cover myself.

“That woman in the photos,” I heard myself say. “Barbara? She’s… she’s very pretty.” Even as I spoke those words, I couldn’t resist staring at the front of my stepdaughter’s sweater. I could see the outlines of her nipples and realized she wasn’t wearing a bra.

“She’s very pretty,” I repeated, a shiver running up and down my spine as I struggled to lift my gaze.

“Yeah,” Cassie whispered, her eyes now locked with mine. “She is.”

She slid closer to me on the couch, casually resting a hand on my jean-clad knee. “I could call her if you want. She lives just a few blocks away. Want me to invite her over?”

My heart hammered in my chest, and I could barely speak. “It’s still raining outside. She’d get soaked. Besides, I… I…”

Whatever I was about to say died as Cassie suddenly leaned in and kissed me, catching me so off guard I didn’t resist. In fact, I found myself kissing her back fiercely, parting my lips to welcome her tongue into my mouth.

I mewled like a kitten when I felt her hand slide from my knee into my open jeans, fingers massaging the sensitive, swollen lips of my pussy, only the thin fabric of my panties separating our flesh.

Then, with a skill that left me stunned, Cassie slipped her hand into the crotch of my panties and a finger plunged deep inside me. I heard my own moans of pleasure as my stepdaughter began fingering me and I sucked her tongue ever more desperately…