Getting to her feet, she started down the hallway to her daughter's bedroom. She did not know, yet, what she would say or do, but she had to do something. She could not let this continue.

Ann paused outside Misty's door, still undecided how to best handle the situation.

Opening the door, she stepped into Misty's room. Misty was lying on her stomach, facing the wall. Ann leaned against the door, looking at her. She could see the girl's long copper colored hair fanned out, and her long legs outstretched.

Misty's skirt was almost up to her ass. Ann looked at the swell of her daughter's ass beneath the skirt, seeing for the first time that her daughter was growing up, filling out, becoming rounded.

"Misty, turn over and look at me," Ann said softly.

Misty turned her head, facing her mother, but keeping her eyes closed. There was a faint pink tinge on her cheeks. Ann looked at her exquisite features. Misty was beautiful enough to grace any television commercial, and her body was obviously the beach bunny, California girl type. Her body was a perfect for all those very tight designer jeans.

Feeling something she had never felt before – a vague sensation of erotic courage – she looked at her daughter. There was that rippling feeling in her cunt again – a tremor of burning excitement in and around her clit. Something was pushing her, and she felt certain frustrations melting away.

"You enjoy playing with yourself, don't you, Misty?" Ann asked, her voice unusually throaty. "You like to put your finger in there and… in another girl, don't you?"

Misty blushed deeper.

Ann's eyes were blazing now, but not with anger. There was a wild fire inside her cunt, and in a gentle voice, she said: "Misty, sit up and pull your skirt up."

Misty looked at her mother, confused. "Mother, are you gonna spank me?"

Ann moved toward the bed. "No, baby," she said as she sat on her daughter's bed. "I'm not going to spank you. Now, sit up like I said and pull your dress up."