Mom Loves Not Her Daughters - Sex Stories

Mom Loves Not Her Daughters

... she greeted me just like normal. But I'd spent all day thinking about the weekend and what it felt like to be a girl. And, as soon as I'd said hello, I went to my room, got out of my jeans and tee-shirt, and put on my girl clothes -- a short white skirt, patterned tee-shirt, underwear, low heels, and the wig with just the lightest makeup. When I went back into the kitchen, mom looked me up and down real quick and smiled. Then, like there was nothing odd at all, treated me just like she had all weekend -- like her daughter. The first thing this meant was that she put me to work cleaning the carrots and grinding them for salad. That's what I was doing when Amy came home, kissed mom, and then kissed me on the cheek, too. She never never did that when I was a guy. When I got done, I went to the dining table and started my homework and was almost finished when mom called us for dinner. We ate and talked and then went back to homework while mom picked up and put the dishes in the dish washer. She always said she'd rather we'd get good grades than do the dishes all the time. I got finished before Amy and went into the f****y room to watch TV with mom. I took off the shoes and curled my legs back under me like I'd seen mom and Amy do a hundred times. It was really sort of fun making sure my skirt was okay and stuff. Always before, I would have probably been laying on the floor on my stomach or on the couch with one leg on the back and one on the seats. That, obviously, wouldn't work ...

... with a skirt. The phone rang then and Amy answered it in the kitchen. "Dixie!" she yelled. "It's for you." For a second, I didn't think anything of it. Then I realized that she'd said Dixie. Before I said anything on the phone, I asked Amy who it was. "I don't know. A guy. He asked for Dixie," she said as if that were perfectly normal. "Dixie and not Dix? For sure?" "Oh, yeah," she said, realizing what she'd overlooked again. This was dangerous. "Yeah. He asked for Dixie. For sure." I answered it then in my slightly higher voice and with just a "Hi" so I could cover either way. "Hi, Dixie. This is Mike. Remember? From the restaurant." "Oh, yeah. I remember," I said. I thought about him and grinned to myself. "So what's up?" he said. "I called last night but you weren't home." "Yeah. We went to a movie before we came home." "What'd you see?" he asked. That started off the lengthy conversation. We talked about the movie -- he'd seen it, too -- and about the stars in it and the stuff we'd seen in the magazines about them. That led into other stars and other movies. We found we pretty much liked the same kinds of movies and the same stars. Then we talked about music for a few minutes and then about school. I found out he's a senior at the high school in the neighbor town where the mall is and that he only works weekends at the restaurant. We really got along well and talked for a long time. Then he changed the subject. "What I really called for is I was hoping maybe you'd go out ...