Lisafest 2013 Short Stories

BY : Lennox
Category: +S through Z > Simpsons
Dragon prints: 4006
Disclaimer: I do not own The Simpsons. The characters are the property of Disney/Fox and I am not associated with the creators or owners of the show. This story is a work of fan-fiction that is written for non-profit and entertainment purposes only.

Volume 8

      “No! No, you can’t cancel! Please, I need this. It has to be done today.”

“I’m sorry, Lisa, but I just can’t make it. Good luck finding something else.” *click* Lisa sighed and hung up the phone. This was her first big university assignment and she had failed it already. Ever since Bart had been infected with the Panda virus and she had posed as a college student to make smarter friends, Lisa had convinced her parents to let her attend one class. The condition was that Lisa would keep up with her other classes at Springfield Elementary. After browsing through courses, the least demanding course was Introductory to Visual Arts & Modern Expressionism, which Lisa soon found to be fun and rewarding. Only attending twice a week, Lisa was fitting in and making some very impressive progress... until now.

      “What’s wrong honey?” Marge walked into the kitchen, noticing Lisa in a slump over the table.

      “My life model just canceled,” she whimpered. “I needed her to help me with this assignment. It’s my first big one Mom, and she just canceled it like that,” Lisa snapped her fingers and buried her face in her arms. She felt the usual reassuring pat on the back from her mother and it made her feel a little better. Usually, the simple gesture could help her get over something to do with Elementary school, but not with University. She had worked so hard to be accepted into the University and into her class, filled with people more than a decade older than her. And now she was about to fail her first big piece assessment. 

      “Lisa, tell me something,” Marge said as she sat down next to her. “Was this going to be a... a nude portrait?” Without looking up, Lisa nodded her head.

      “Yes, Mom. It’s a ‘life’ portrait. Not a bowl of fruit.” Marge swore softly under her breath.              “Does it need to include a face?” Lisa lifted her head and wiped a tear from her eye. She looked at her mother, slightly confused by her question.

      “Um... no, I don’t think so. Why?” Marge took a deep breath. She couldn’t believe she was actually going to suggest this.

      “Well, back when I did art at University, I had to do a few drawings of life models. I even did that one of Mr. Burns a few years ago, remember? The point is if you don’t tell anyone it’s me and you don’t paint a face... I’ll be the model. But, we just keep this between us. Deal?” Marge had to force the words from her mouth, but this would be going towards her daughter’s final grade. She had to do whatever she could to help her out. She couldn’t bear to see Lisa so upset after she had put in so much time and effort.

      “Deal!” Lisa cried, her sadness vanishing as she hugged her mother. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.”

      Marge and Lisa quickly settled upon the attic for as somewhere quiet to work so they wouldn't be disturbed. It was warm, quiet, and out of the way. No one would imagine looking for them there. And if they did, Marge could use the ‘cleaning’ excuse which would turn Homer and Bart away. Lisa pushed some boxes aside to make room for her workspace. She lay down a large white sheet on the dusty floor. She carefully opened up a few small containers of paint, leaving them to sit on a box. She had a bucket of soapy water, a washcloth, and Homer’s old digital camera that he had abandoned in the attic some time ago. Lisa pulled the shutters closed on the one window, bathing the room in the soft orange light from the single light bulb that hung from the ceiling.

      “Are you ready Lisa?” Marge asked, poking her head up through the hole in the floor. Without looking, Lisa quickly made sure that she had everything she needed.

      “Yep, I think I am,” she said. Marge climbed the small ladder into the attic and pulled the door shut behind her. She placed a baby monitor on one of the boxes, just in case Maggie woke up crying. Wearing only a towel around her, Marge took her spot in the center of the sheet. She was a little nervous, but she pulled the towel from her body and tossed it aside. Lisa looked up at her mother, her eyes going wide as she saw her naked for the first time. She and Bart had always talked about bringing Marge into their secret affairs, but never really meant it. She knew Bart would be jealous that he missed out on an eye-full from their mother, but Lisa couldn’t let herself stare too long. She quickly moved over to the jars of paint, picking one of them up.

      “Lisa? Where’s your canvas?” Marge asked, suddenly noting its absence.

      “Oh, I’m not using a normal canvas. For this, you are the canvas.” 

      “Me?” Marge asked, blinking, “I don’t understand.” 

      “This is glow-in-the-dark body paint,” Lisa said as she poured a small amount into her hands and rubbed them together. “I use your body as the canvas, switch out the lights and take photos, hence no need for a face in the final product. Do you... do you have a problem with this?”

      “No... No Lisa. Sorry, I just didn’t expect it. Paint away.”

      For the next few minutes, Marge stood there as she felt Lisa’s paint-covered hands roam her stomach and back. The paint was cold and made her shiver. But the attic was warm with the sun shining down on the roof. The paint was quick to dry. Within minutes, Lisa had finished her first piece of work. She wiped her hands clean, turned out the light, and took a few pictures. When that was done, she wiped her mother down and started again. But as she painted, Marge started to notice a peculiar scent filling her nostrils.

      “Um... Lisa? What’s that smell?” She asked.

      “Smell? Oh, that’s the paint. It’s chocolate scented.” Marge panicked as her whole body froze. Chocolate scented body paint. This was not a good idea. She had always found chocolate to be a turn on, and since Lisa had confirmed it, she started feeling herself getting damp between her legs. Marge closed her eyes, trying to focus on ignoring the suddenly overpowering scent. But each breath filled her nostrils with the smell, and with Lisa’s hands roaming her body, she could feel herself getting wetter by the second.

*****

      When Lisa turned off the light to take her third lot of pictures, she noticed the splotches of glowing paint on her dress.

      “Oh damn it. I was hoping I wouldn’t spill any on me,” she muttered. In the dark room, Marge could see the glowing spots being shuffled around before flung to the side. Marge realized what Lisa had done straight away. Her daughter had just taken off her dress and tossed it on the floor, followed by the sounds of her shoes hitting the hard wooden floors. Marge had to use a tremendous amount of self-control not to give in to her urges. In the dark, she could get away with it. But covered with glow in the dark paint, there wasn’t a chance Lisa wouldn’t notice. She could feel that she was soaked between her legs and she could swear she was dripping.

      “Lisa... I... Mommy needs to take a break.” 

      “But we’re almost done. I just need a couple more different pictures,” Lisa said as she switched on the light. Marge saw her daughter’s naked body. While she knew she took off her dress and shoes, she didn’t realize that she removed her panties too. 

      “Lisa! Where are your underpants, young lady?!” Lisa looked down, suddenly realizing that she wasn’t wearing them. She silently cursed, remembering that she never put them on anymore. She had become so used to going around without them that she actually forgot she wasn’t wearing them. But the sight of her naked daughter was enough to push Marge over the edge. She needed that release. She was slowly grinding her legs together while trying to hide the act, but that gave her almost no feeling at all. She had to practically force herself not to push her hands between her legs.

      “Lisa, please! Can we please just take a quick break? Just ten, maybe fifteen minutes?” 

      “Geez mom, are you feeling alright?” Marge took a deep breath. She couldn’t hold herself off any longer. She needed that release. 

      “Oh, God Lisa, I’m so sorry.” Marge fell to her knees in front of her daughter. Her hand dived between her legs, slipping two of her slender fingers into her soaked cunt. Lisa couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her mother was fingering herself right in front of her.

      “Um... Mom?” Lisa asked, but Marge didn’t answer her. As she looked straight at her daughter’s naked body, her fingers wriggled and pumped inside of her. Marge gasped, arching her back and pulling her fingers from her slit. Her orgasm took over, not caring that she was cumming in front of her daughter. Her chest heaved and fell and she shut her eyes, letting the pleasure overtake her body.

      “Oh... fuck...” she sighed with relief.

      Marge’s eyes shot open when she felt a pair of short, stubby fingers probe the entrance to her slit. She looked down to see Lisa standing in front of her, just in time to feel one finger slip into her soaked depths. 

      “Wow mom, you’re soaked. You must have cum really hard.”

      “Lisa! What are you doing? Take that out right now!”

      “Come on, Mom. You just came in front of me but I don’t think you’re done yet. I think you’ve got another one or two in you. Besides, if you really wanted me to stop you would have stood up and pulled my fingers out anyway.” Marge sighed and hung her head. Once again, Lisa was right.      “It’s... it’s the smell of the paint Lisa. I’ve always found chocolate to be a major turn-on and with it all over me and your hands... and now you naked too. I just... I just couldn’t help myself.” Lisa looked down at her hands, still covered in paint. A wicked grin formed on her lips. 

      “Mom?”

      “Yes, honey?” Marge asked, lifting her head. Lisa pressed her hands against Marge’s face, smearing the paint over her skin and directly underneath her nostrils. Marge would get a strong hit of that chocolate scent with every breath.

      “Just go with it,” Lisa said. Before Marge could say anything, Lisa pulled her hands away and kissed her mother’s lips. Marge was taken back for only a second before she moved in for the kiss. She was horny and Lisa was willing to help her out with it, that’s all she could think about. She felt her daughter’s tongue slip into her mouth. Marge was surprised that Lisa seemed to be so skilled with it, as she knew exactly what to do with the moist muscle. But right now, Marge didn’t care.

      “Mom, give me your pearls and lie down,” Lisa said as she broke the kiss. Lisa reached behind her neck to remove her necklace and handed it to her daughter. Lisa placed it to the side and moved to get some more paint. Instead of rubbing it on her hands, she poured a little down her chest and stomach and rubbed it over her body. She lay down on top of Marge and slid herself over her stomach, tits, and chest. Lisa kissed her mother deeply as she smeared the paint between them. She was the paintbrush for this next photo. She used her hands on Marge’s chest, making sure her breasts were covered in the all different colors. She used her feet to make footprints over Marge's legs, just one at a time. Lisa grabbed her mother’s pearls and made sure they were coated in the paints as well. Marking sure that she had the right end (the one without the small, pointy hook) she pressed the pearls against her mother’s ass.

      Marge groaned and lifted her hips a little as she felt Lisa push the pearls into her ass. Along with her finger, she slipped one bead after another into her. Marge felt her daughter’s tongue on her soaked slit, quivering as she pushed it inside. Marge lifted her hips to press against her daughter’s mouth, her hands reaching for her messy tits. Bead after bead vanished inside her, right down to the last one. Lisa’s hands rested on her mother’s legs, eating out the very same pussy that she came out of almost nine years ago. Lisa, who had never done anything with another woman, was mimicking the actions that Bart had used on her countless times. While she had tasted herself before, she realized that her mother had a very different flavor. But she kept going, munching away on her mother’s soaked cunt. For Marge, the smell and Lisa’s licking was bringing her very close to her second orgasm. With her hands groping and pinching her tits, her hips were bucking up against her daughter’s face. 

      “Oh fuck, Lisa. Right there! Right fucking there!” Marge cried out in pure ecstasy. Lisa had never heard her mother swear before, but she liked it. She had found her mother’s special spot. That one spot that Bart managed to find every single time he went down on her. Lisa pressed her tongue against it, rubbing and licking her mother to her second orgasm. Marge‘s whole body went rigid, cumming over her daughter’s tongue. Right as she came, Lisa started to pull the beads from her ass. One by one, they popped out and this only heightened Marge’s pleasure. Lisa ate out her mother during her orgasm, slowly easing her tongue out when she finished. Leaving the pearls on the floor, Lisa stood up and grabbed the camera. She turned out the light and moved over her mother, taking the final set of pictures of her spent, glowing body. Marge closed her eyes, seeing the dull light of the flash through her eyelids. Lisa was quite proud that she made another woman cum so hard during her first lesbian experience. She watched Marge’s chest rise and fall as she panted, catching her breath.

      “Lisa, that was amazing,” Marge said as Lisa switched on the light. She held out her hand to help Marge to her feet. “But where’d you learn all that? You’re eight years old. You shouldn’t know how to do any of that stuff you did.” Lisa gave a nervous chuckle as she adjusted her own pearls. As smart as she was, she couldn’t actually think of an answer to that question. She was relieved when Marge bent down to her.

      “It’s alright honey. I’ll look the other way this time. But you'll have to tell me one day.” Lisa sighed; the incestuous affair with her brother was still a secret. Marge walked over to the box of paints and she started to screw the lids on the small jars. She read the label of one of them, a sly grin crossing her lips.

      “Lisa?”

      “Yeah, Mom?”

      “You do know that you can buy edible types of this stuff, don’t you?” Lisa looked at her mother and beamed.



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