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I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 40

  • Posted on July 30, 2016 at 2:22 pm

Speaking of Bombshells

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

Gwen arrived home and opened the door with apprehension. She realized she would feel that way for a very long time whenever she got home. She felt as if she’d been violated in a way that would hold her hostage for the rest of her life.

On the way home from Kayleigh’s house, she’d thought about the porn star’s explanation of why Mark Craven had thrown them the bone he had, telling Gwen for Kayleigh’s sake what had happened to Cindy. It just didn’t ring true. Kayleigh had introduced him to a woman with a unique talent that she was willing to have filmed? Craven, by admitting his knowledge of what had happened to Cindy, had basically admitted to being involved in adult human trafficking of the worst sort. He was a partner in crime to someone who was basically holding a person against her will, which was the legal definition of kidnapping. This was no small crime he had confessed to. Did Kayleigh have something on him? Was that the reason for his quick confession?

Gwen didn’t know, but one thing she did know was that the story about introducing him to Lynnette Baxter was a cover story, and not a very good one at that.

Her instincts as a detective were firing on all cylinders, and they were telling her Kayleigh had lied. But why? What was the truth that Kayleigh didn’t want her to know?

*******

Mom and I stared at each other as Jenna ran from the room, screaming that the man in the picture was the same man who had raped her when she was little. We followed Jenna to her room, where she lay on her bed sobbing.

We joined her in the bed, lying beside her and holding her as we tried to soothe her, shushing her and telling her it would be okay. Each of us doing our best to help her feel better by telling her that we would get him one day for what he’d done to her.

Mom had raised me believing that consent was more important than anything else when having sex with someone. She had told me countless times when I was little that if what we were doing bothered me at all, I should say so, and she would have no problem with my decision for us to stop. I’d spent my life since age six hearing the words, “What we do is up to you.” She was so careful about my consent that for the first two years of our incestuous relationship she asked me almost daily if I was still okay with it. I remember getting annoyed with the question at one point, but she just told me to get used to it because she would ask until she was absolutely certain I would always be fine with the idea of having sex with my mother.

As we lay in the bed with Jenna, I was angry enough that I wanted to kill someone for the first time in my life, and I said so.

“No, honey,” Mom said. “First, if you ever did that to anyone and went to jail, I would never forgive myself. Second, this is the one person I could never let you harm.”

I looked at Mom, my brow furrowed with confusion. Of course, I knew Mom would never want me to actually kill anyone, but that last statement was very odd.

As we lay there comforting Jenna, I noticed Mom would look at me then back at Jenna before looking at me again, worry etching her face with frown lines. Because I knew my mom so well, I understood she was wrestling with whether or not to tell me something. I knew it was something I probably didn’t want to hear, but Mom was trying to decide if she should tell me anyway.

A hundred strange ideas about what she would say if she decided to tell me whatever it was ran through my mind. At first I thought Mom had maybe killed someone herself, but I dismissed that as too weird. She didn’t have it in her to kill another person, no matter the reason, anymore than I did. I knew it had something to do with Mr. Craven, though, because of her last statement.

She’d said she could never let me harm him. I ran this over in my mind. Then it hit me. Was she in love with this monster? If so, why hadn’t I known that before? She never hid her relationships from me. Never.

But if that wasn’t what she wanted to tell me, what was?

Finally, I just looked at her and said, “Tell me.”

At first she acted as if she didn’t know what I was talking about. “Tell you what?”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to decide whether or not to tell me.”

If we had been in any other circumstance, her look would have made me laugh. Her eyes widened in surprise as it occurred to her that I had correctly interpreted her reactions.

“What makes you think I’m deciding whether or not to tell you something?” she asked.

“Because, I see it in your face. It’s the same way you looked at me when you were considering telling me about you and Grandma. It’s your ‘should I tell her?’ look.”

She looked down at Jenna, whose sobbing had subsided to gentle weeping, before looking back at me. “Okay, but later. We have to tend to your sister’s needs first.”

We lay with Jenna for the next hour, calming her and telling her how much we loved her and that we would do something to get back at Mr. Craven for raping her.

Finally, exhausted from the party the night before and the shock of seeing her rapist’s picture on our TV screen, Jenna fell asleep. Mom and I stripped her to her panties and tucked her in before going to the kitchen to talk and have something to eat.

When we were seated at the table with turkey sandwiches, I said, “Okay, so what is it you don’t know whether or not to tell me?”

“I’m still not sure if I should tell you, sweetie. It’s a rather big thing. And I know for certain you’d rather not know.”

The killing thing hit me again, and I said, “Did you kill someone?”

That shocked her. “Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Well, you said you couldn’t let me kill someone, and that’s when you started looking like you might tell me something.”

“Cheryl Leanne Taylor! How could you think something like that about me?”

“I didn’t really think it,” I said. “I just sorta… well… thought it but didn’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” she said. She seemed really upset by the fact I had done so.

“I’m sorry. I just… well, I just don’t know what you could be thinking of telling me. I know it’s something really big because you don’t get that look unless it is.”

“Well, it’s big but not that big,” Mom said, sipping her coffee.

“Then tell me,” I said.

“You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?” she asked.

“No.”

Sighing, she took another sip from her coffee and looked me in the eye. Then, apparently unable to hold that gaze, she looked back at her coffee cup.

Still staring at her mug, she asked, “You remember what I told you about your dad?”

“Yeah.” Mom had told me I was the result of her boyfriend not using a condom one time when they’d made a homemade porn video. I’d seen it, even.

“Well, I’ve always known he wasn’t your dad. That video was made a full year before you were born. I never got pregnant from him.”

I was stunned. He wasn’t my dad? “What? Why?–” I couldn’t form the questions raging through my mind.

“I didn’t want to tell you the truth, honey. I didn’t want you to know.”

Tears stung my eyes and overflowed, slipping down my cheeks. “Know what?” I asked, all the while hoping she would tell me it was a joke. A bad joke.

“I was raped.”

“You–?” So that was it. The rape of Jenna was bringing her own rape to the forefront of her mind, forcing her to think about the lie she’d been living.

“Yes,” Mom said. “I’m sorry, baby. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want you to think you were the product of something so ugly.” Now her tears were running down her cheeks as well. She reached out to hold me, and for the first time in my life, I pulled back, not wanting the contact. It hurt me to see the hurt in her eyes, but I still refused her touch.

“Tell me about it,” I said. “Were you walking along and dragged into an alley? Kidnapped? What?”

Instead of holding me, her hands grasped each other in an effort to stop the trembling.

“It was a date rape.”

“You knew the guy?”

She looked at me. I could see the shame in her eyes, glowing behind the tears.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she sobbed. “I should have told you, but I couldn’t.”

“Why are you telling me now?” I sobbed. “Why now?”

“Because… because it’s all coming back to haunt me… to haunt Jenna.”

“Who was it? Who’s my father?” I asked her, forcing her to tell me. It wasn’t that I wanted a relationship with him. He’d raped my mom. I just wanted to know.

My mother’s face crumbled into a thousand pieces as she told me the name. I found myself thinking of the nursery rhyme ‘Humpty Dumpty,’ where all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. I realized my biggest wish at that moment would be that we could put my mom’s face back together again. To make things the way they had been before.

She was right. At thirteen, I would rather have lived the lie.

But my life broke in two that day, as well. Forever, my life would be measured by what happened before I knew who my father really was and after I knew it.

Because my father was the devil in the flesh.

My mother looked at me and sobbed the words she’d been holding in for over thirteen years. “Mark Craven. Mr. Craven, who also raped Jenna, is your father.”

I sat speechless, unable to even think. That monster was my father? Again, my mind went into a strange place and had weird thoughts, as I pictured Luke Skywalker finding out his parental history. I knew how he felt. It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic.

When I found my voice, I needed to know there wasn’t a possibility it wasn’t someone else. “How do you know? Couldn’t it be another man you had sex with?”

“No, baby. He was the only one I had sex with since making the movie three months before, and I didn’t have sex with a man again until I turned eighteen and made my first porn movie. You were already two by that time.”

Sobbing from deep within my chest, I got up to go look at the picture of the man who’d raped my mom and my baby sister, leaving my mother still in the kitchen. Sure, raping my mom had been what gave me life, but that didn’t mean I had to love the man or even like him. He was a rapist, pure and simple. Now I understood why my Mom was so serious about consent.

I looked at his picture, memorizing every line of his face, every feature that separated his face from a billion others.

And I made my vow.

“One day I’ll pay you back, you fucker,” I mumbled to the picture on the screen, doing my best to control the sobs. “I’ll get you back for raping my mom and my baby sister.” I continued to stare at him. “And when I do, you’ll know it’s me and you’ll know why I’m doing it. Just remember, you ass wipe, paybacks are hell.” I stood there and tried to compose myself a bit. I finally stopped crying. I was angrier than anything else at this point.

After I had finally gotten control, I returned to Mom. I had a few more questions.

Sitting down in my chair, I looked at Mom and said, “Why did you say that about how he was the one person you didn’t want me to hurt?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Mom said. “Do you want to hear it?”

I nodded. “In for a penny…” I said.

“When Mark found out I was pregnant, he denied you were his, of course. Men always seem to do that, and it was fine with me. I didn’t want to marry him or anything. I just wanted financial help raising you.

“He continued to deny you were his, but he was willing to help me make money by putting me in his stable of girls. I made good money, but I didn’t really begin raking it in until my porn career took off.”

I interrupted her explanation. “He denied I was his but he helped you financially?” This made no sense to me.

“Honey, he made more than I did from my work. He still does. It wasn’t money out of his pocket, really. It was the money I made turning tricks, and now it’s from the sale of my movies.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of it like that,” I said. Then another question hit me that I wanted answered. “Why didn’t you go to the police after he raped you? You could’ve had him arrested.”

“Honey, he was a very powerful man. Still is. I was attracted to that and when he asked me out, I couldn’t believe a man like that wanted to take me on a date. He was already in his thirties, and I was barely fifteen. I was mesmerized by what I saw as his sophistication.”

“What did Grandma think of you going out with this older guy?”

“Grandma didn’t know. I told her I was spending the night with a friend.”

Then Mom continued with her explanation. “Originally, I had planned to go to bed with him, so in a way it was almost like consensual sex, but in reality it wasn’t. We went up to his penthouse apartment and he gave me champagne, and not the cheap stuff, either. I’d finished the first glass and he just grabbed me and threw me down on the sofa. He practically tore my clothes off; some of them did get ripped. Then he was on top of me and putting his dick inside me.

“The truth is after it was over I never mentioned the word rape. At least not then. I acted as though I wanted it. He asked me if I wanted to make a lot of money. ‘I could make you a millionaire if you want,’ he said. I was still wanting to go far in life, and to be honest I wanted to be what I am today, even then. I knew who he was. After all, our date had consisted of dropping in on a shoot where I watched two girls fuck this guy and each other. I was really horny right up to the point he forced himself on me. I guess it was more like unfulfilling sex than it was rape.”

“Don’t say that, Mom. If he forced himself on you, it was rape, no matter what your intentions for the evening were.”

“In any case, he got what he wanted. After I had you, I contacted him. He had no idea I had gotten pregnant until then. I reminded him he’d offered to make me a millionaire. He said I was still too young to do film work, but that he had a spot for me if I was willing to use my, as he put it, ‘magnificent body’ to make the cash.

“I was barely sixteen with no money, no future, and a baby I had to support. It was an easy decision.”

“Couldn’t he get into trouble using a sixteen-year-old girl for prostitution? What was the difference between that and making porn movies?” I asked.

“Honey, with porn movies, the production company is required to maintain certified copies of the birth certificates of everyone who appears in a movie and is involved in any part of a sex scene, even as a voyeur. Otherwise, it’s child porn. Since prostitution is illegal anyway, there are plenty of girls out there who are underage. The pimps aren’t required to keep any records at all.

“So that’s how you started as a call girl?” I asked.

“Yes. Once I moved over to the film side of the operation, I mentioned to him that what he’d done was without my consent and therefore it was rape.”

Mom looked at me and our eyes met. I could see she wanted to make sure I got this next part.

“He told me he didn’t give a fuck what it was. He said he took what he wanted, and he had wanted me. He mentioned that if I ever came after him for the rape, though he always referred to it as ‘alleged rape,’ that he would make sure not only would I regret it, but so would you and my mother. He even knew the address where she lived back east. He quoted it to me, down to the apartment number.

“That’s why you can’t harm him, sweetie. He’s very powerful and his reach goes all the way to Grandma’s apartment. If you tried to hurt him, he’d take it out on you, me, and Grandma. Probably Jenna too.”

She smiled at me and reached out to brush my hair behind my ears. “Besides, he may have raped me, but look at the beautiful girl I got for those ten minutes of torture. I would say you’re worth it.”

“But, Mom, he raped you! And he raped Jenna when she was just a little girl. Don’t you want to get back at him?”

“Of course, I do. But not so much I would gamble your life, Jenna’s life, and my mother’s.”

“What about your life?” I asked, wondering why she left herself out.

“No, I’d gamble it if my life was the only thing I could lose. But I know I could never lose you or Jenna or Grandma.”

“So why did he tell Gwen he owed you?”

“I guess because he knows down deep that you are his, and he denied it for selfish reasons. Maybe since he knows I’m taking care of Cindy’s daughter that he sort of owes me for that, too.”

I had one final question. “Did he keep his promise?”

“What promise?” Mom had no idea what I meant, of course.

“To make you a millionaire. Mom, I don’t really know anything about the money side of our life. Are you what he said you’d be? A millionaire?”

“Honey, this house is worth nearly two million. I have lots of money invested in stocks and bonds. Money market accounts. I have a very good financial advisor. Yes, he kept his promise. I’ll say that for him. But keep in mind, the more money I make the more he makes, and what he makes would dwarf what I make.”

After hearing my mother explain why I shouldn’t harm the ass wipe, I decided I wouldn’t do anything right now, but I still planned to do something one day. I was determined he would pay one day. I went to my room and spent the next hour fantasizing about doing all sorts of things to the man who had impregnated my mother. A lot of my fantasy involved rope, scissors, his penis, and a very long time at my task. Once I knew about his relationship to me, I never referred to him as my father or my dad. He was always ‘ass wipe’ or ‘the man who impregnated my mom.’ Nothing else.

I suddenly understood the words of Khan in that Star Trek movie my mom and I watched one time on tape. I never had understood the words before. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” It became my life’s obsession. I didn’t know it was from Shakespeare then, but it’s amazing how spot on that guy could be about things.

*******

Wednesday finally arrived. The last day of school. My seventh grade year had ended. I kept ass wipe in the back of my mind and did my best to enjoy my summer. I was thirteen and constantly horny, it seemed.

That was the summer that Jenna first molested me in my sleep. Soon, I was returning the favor. It became a game to see how long we could do things to the other without waking our prey. We even began to time it to the second with the stopwatch we had on our wristwatches.

I ended up holding the record for that summer at 19 minutes 47 seconds. I began to wonder if I could become a cat burglar or something. But instead of jewelry, I would steal sleep tops and panties while tasting all the girls and women in the house.

One morning Mom saw me sneaking naked through the house to Jenna’s room.

“Molestation time?” she asked.

I looked at her. This was about six weeks after she’d told me the truth of my birth, and things were getting back to normal. I had forgiven her during a tearful apology by both of us. I had told her I was also sorry for pulling away from her embrace, and she’d said she understood even through the pain that had caused her. And I told her I didn’t blame her for who my father was, that I knew she’d made up that story to protect me and that it was a sort of wish for her.

My relationship with my mom hadn’t gone sour. In fact, I adored her more than ever.

“Yeah,” I whispered to answer her question even though I was still way too far from Jenna’s room to be heard. “But it’s a seduction, not a molestation.”

“Sorry. Mind if I watch?” she asked.

“You have to be quiet,” I whispered. Normally, my mom would be hands-down against doing something like this, but she knew we enjoyed it. She even knew we’d made a sort of contest out of it. She understood that consent had been given in a sort of carte blanche way.

And besides, we were always horny, so it gave us the orgasms we craved.

Mom got up and crept down the hallway with me to Jenna’s door, stripping herself along the way and dropping various articles of clothing on the floor. She was naked by the time she entered Jenna’s room with me.

Before I moved to the bed and my sleeping beauty, I turned to Mom and kissed her, running a finger up her slit from her vagina to her clit as I did. She was already soaking wet, and I wondered what she’d been doing or thinking about before I got up and made my way to my little sister’s bed. She was much too wet for this to have happened just between the kitchen where she’d been drinking coffee and Jenna’s room.

I plunged my sticky wet finger into my mouth and savored the flavor of my mom’s pussy. The white goo covered my finger before I sucked it all off. Then I kissed my mom again, pushing my tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself as well.

Approaching my sister, I started my stopwatch and moved quietly onto the bed, being careful not to disturb Jenna. Her breathing was deep and slow. She was totally asleep.

This was the point where I could remove her clothes without her knowing because she was so deeply asleep. I noticed she was wearing a cream-colored cami top and panties with Ren and Stimpy on them. They were a bit small for her, so I called them her Ren and Skimpy panties. She always laughed when I called them that and would do a sexy little dance in them when I said it, which of course was the biggest reason for making the play on words.

I carefully worked the little straps of the cami off her arms and gently pulled the soft material off over her head. I always removed her top first because that was the hardest article of clothing to remove without waking her.

Moving to her lower half, I hooked my fingers under the elastic band that formed the waistline of the panties. They were skimpy, as I said, and they were also very tight against her skin, so much so that she had a pronounced camel toe each time she wore them, which was another reason I knew she and I both liked these panties.

Gradually her bald pussy came into view as I edged the elastic over her slim hips. My mouth was already watering.

Once I had her naked, I touched her as softly as possible to avoid disturbing her sleep. I started with her nipples and newly swelling boobies. Her breasts had very recently begun to grow. This had started as nipple growth, first the left nipple then the right, over a period of a few weeks. She had what was known as ‘bee-sting’ boobs by this time, just softly protruding nipples forming a very small cone on each breast.

After tenderly tweaking her nipples, I moved my head down to her chest and gently suckled her. I started with her left nipple, teasing it with my tongue until I could feel it begin to stiffen from the erotic contact. I was always very careful with her boobs because of how painfully tender they could be when they began to grow.

It was always at this point that Jenna would begin the process of waking up, though it sometimes took a while for her to become awake enough to notice what was happening and say something. The sleeping person speaking clearly to indicate she knew what was going on was the cue to stop timing the sleep seduction. We had begun to call our game the Sleep Seduction to avoid the negative meaning of the word molestation. After all this wasn’t a molestation at all since both participants were very eager for it to happen.

As I licked and sucked her nipples, she gave a slight moan, indicating that even in her sleep, she was enjoying what was happening to her. I knew that somewhere in her mind she was having sexual thoughts, which often led to sexual dreams.

I took a chance this morning since Mom was watching — and playing with herself of course — and I turned Jenna over as gently as I could to be able to get to her butt.

Kneeling between her spread legs, I placed my wet tongue on her butthole, which had been cleaned during her bath the night before. I moved it slowly back and forth and she began to stir some more as her hips began moving just a slight bit, though not rhythmically as they normally would. Because she was asleep, her hips would move in a jerky rhythm, as if her body wanted to react but her mind was attempting to prevent her from feeling it.

I moved my mouth lower and licked at her slit, tasting the cream that was forming in her pussy due to what I’d been doing to her. Reaching between her legs, I placed my hands on her butt and my thumbs on her outer lips and spread the flesh there to reveal the slick treasure beneath. To say it looked delicious would not do justice to the beauty of my sister’s pussy. It looked heavenly.

In Greek mythology ambrosia was the food of the gods. I always felt when I spread a pussy and looked inside that I was looking at ambrosia, and I felt no different this time.

Pushing my face between her legs and butt cheeks, I managed to get my tongue inside the wet slit. I could hear breathing from both Jenna and Mom, who was now standing at the foot of the bed where she was masturbating while watching what I did.

From this position my nose was pressed into the lower crack of her ass. She was clean, so there was no foul odor to deal with. My tongue finally made contact with my baby sister’s clit, and I could hear the difference in the rhythm and depth of her breathing. She moaned and grunted slightly. Then I heard her say, “Oooh, yes” softly.

As much as I didn’t want to stop for even a second, I had to sit up and stop the timer on my watch. Twelve minutes, seven seconds. Not bad.

Swinging one leg over my sister’s body, I placed my pussy within easy reach of her mouth. She giggled softly and soon we were completely involved in a wild sixty-nine. She came first, of course, seeing she had a twelve minute head start, and my mom was the next to come, which again was no surprise since she’d been touching herself the entire time as well.

I was last, but it was an amazing orgasm. The throbbing of my clit and the clenching of my vagina that accompanied the climax felt as if heaven itself had decided to change its location to my pussy.

Soon, all three of us were lying in Jenna’s bed, cuddling and smooching. It was a wonderful morning, as many of them were that summer.

Mom let me have a slumber party a few weeks later as well. I invited all the girls who’d been at the last one, plus my Aunt Emmy and Deanna’s sister, Elizabeth, who was kidded quite a bit about her homemade videos when she was younger. Marie’s mother was also invited, but she declined because she had somewhere else to be that night. It was fine. I had all the other girls and women I loved there. My mom joined us of course, and it was a real blast to have her at the party.

All in all it was a wonderful couple of months off from school, despite what I’d learned at its beginning. It was a great summer because it was spent with my family as we did our best to capture the joy in our lives every day.

But I also thought about what I would do to get back at the ass wipe. I knew what I planned to do. All I needed was to set up the opportunity. I’d need help with that, along with a lot of luck.

That turned out to be several years coming.

Continue on to Chapter 41

Maternal Exhibitionism

  • Posted on July 28, 2016 at 2:37 pm

 

Results of a Study on Maternal Exhibitionism

North Central University Department of Family Dynamics

Ingrid Dahlberg, PhD, and Sonya Eklund, MSW

 

Introduction

One of the most exotic forms of sexual deviance is the young mother whose primary erotic fetish consists of pruriently exposing her genitals and ultimately masturbating in front of her daughter(s). Although not well known, this is a far more common phenomenon than one might expect. Only in the past few years have researchers gathered enough evidence and first-hand testimony to verify that the behavior occurs with surprising frequency. It has recently been estimated, in fact, by the American Medical Association (AMA) that perhaps a quarter of all mothers engage in such activity at some point.

Of course, this is the sort of deviance that gets handed down, so to speak, from one generation to another. When a girl witnesses her mother bringing herself to orgasm, and when she sees how pleasurable it appears to be, she naturally will want to try it for herself. And, later, when that little girl becomes a mother, she is quite likely to repeat the behavior with her own daughter.

To learn more about this, we conducted confidential interviews with just over four hundred women who had at least one daughter from age eight to eighteen. This brackets the period when the subject activity seems to occur most often, when the girls are between eleven and fifteen years old.

 

Results

In our study, 116 women (29% of the total) openly admitted to engaging in such behavior, while another 31 women (8%) gave certain answers that suggested they may have done the same, although they were unwilling to come out and say so. Based on the results of our work, it seems that the previous estimate of one in four mothers partaking in incestuous exhibitionism with their daughters may need to be revised upward.

One of the most interesting findings of this research (contrary, perhaps, to some expectations) is that women expose themselves to and masturbate with their daughters far more often than they do with their sons. Although popular reporting may indicate otherwise, we conclude, based on our results, that mother-girl relationships occur with much greater frequency than do mother-boy relationships. The fact that this ratio is so badly misunderstood reflects insufficient prior investigation, not reality, in our estimation. 

Here is the primary data from our study:

 

This is the breakdown of mothers currently active in exhibitionist sexual behavior with their daughters:

 

Note that in our study the oldest currently involved daughter is eighteen years old (actually seven different girls are that age). However, because we only surveyed women whose daughters were between eight and eighteen, we cannot say with certainty that this behavior does not continue into later years. In fact, informal anecdotal reports from some of the conversations conducted by our interviewers suggests that a good number of these women have carried on similar activity well into their twenties or thirties with their own mothers. 

Of the 116 women in our study who have engaged or who currently are engaging in such activities with their young daughters, just over 90% said their own mothers had performed similar acts with them. One woman told us that both she and her mother (ages thirty-two and fifty-one, respectively) regularly masturbate together with the younger woman’s two girls, who are now ten and twelve. 

Although our research was designed specifically to look for cases of mothers involved in exhibitionist relationships with their children, including masturbation, it seems clear that the activities of women is not always limited to exposed self-pleasuring, but sometimes will go beyond that.

However, this particular study was not intended to document cases of actual incest (though, admittedly, many of the acts of exhibitionism we’ve reported definitely do go right up to that line, if not in fact crossing over it), and it will take additional effort to determine how often such activities merely serve as foreplay and eventually lead to full-blown sexual relations. We feel safe in assuming that this does occur, perhaps frequently, but we are unable to estimate how often with any degree of precision.

In order to better understand the thought processes that may take place in some of these women while they are engaging in illicit sexual activities with their daughters, we chose five of our most forthcoming interviewees and spent additional time with them, recording the conversations (with their permission). The aim was to go beyond the data we’d already gathered and uncover some qualitative information.

 

Narratives

The following is a selection of transcribed descriptions provided by each of these women. In all cases, the names have been changed to provide anonymity.

Amy, 34, mother of two daughters, ages 15 and 12:

Well, my mom did it with me and my little sister, and she told me that her mother had done it with her, so who knows how far back it goes. My sister doesn’t have any kids, but sometimes she and I get together and play around with my two girls. You know, it’s all kind of innocent, I mean, we’re just having fun. We’re not hurting anyone. The girls learn how to please themselves, which is a good thing, and they get much better knowledge directly from us than they would from a book or from their friends. Kids don’t usually talk to each other about this kind of stuff, or at least girls probably don’t. I know for sure that my daughters have never told anybody, because if they had, I could be in big trouble!

But seriously, what’s wrong with sitting down together, just a mom and her daughters, and sometimes with my sister, their aunt, and we all just watch each other touch ourselves. What? Oh, yeah, the girls do it too. That’s the way it was, right from the get-go. I guess my oldest, Brianna, was about 10 when I started with her. I showed her how to do it and let her see how good I could make myself feel, and then I encouraged her to try it for herself. Did I help her? Well, yeah, a little bit. I mean, I showed her the best way to rub herself, not too hard and gradually building up. And so, yes, of course at first I put my hands on her to make sure she knew what I was saying. But other than that, we don’t usually touch each other.

Um, let me restate that. My sister and I will sometimes make out, you know, kiss, while we’re masturbating. In front of the girls? Sure, why not? No, I haven’t kissed my daughters very much, but I have encouraged them to kiss each other while they’re doing it. That, let me tell you, is really exciting, to see my 15-year-old Brianna and my 12-year-old Claire kissing each other while their little hands are working hard between their legs. I’m getting wet now just thinking about it!

 

Dawn, 40, mother of four daughters, 17, 16, 11 and 11:

For me, it’s just the normal way that mothers and daughters are together. That’s how it was with my mother and my three sisters. We always masturbated, for as long as I can remember, and we never hid it from each other.

It’s funny, now, thinking back, I’d forgotten about this… when Mother put us to bed every night, we always were expected to play with ourselves. Like some kids are taught to say bedtime prayers every night, we were taught to have bedtime masturbation, even when we were only 4 or 5 years old. Of course, we didn’t really have orgasms when we were that young, but it still felt really good, and by the time we were each 9 or 10 years old, we knew exactly what to do to make ourselves cum whenever we felt like it. And that made Mother very proud of us.

On the weekends is when we’d have what she called our special time. Every Saturday night (and sometimes on Friday nights too, unless we were busy with something else), Mother would gather us all together onto her big bed and we’d all be naked and then we’d talk and tell stories and sing songs and after a little while we would all be playing with ourselves, Mother included. This started very young; I’m not sure exactly how early, but by the time I was 5, my two older sisters — who would have been 8 and 10 — and I would spend every Saturday night that way, feeling close and having fun and masturbating together with our wonderful mother. The baby was only two then, and she would usually fall asleep early, but by the time she was 5 or 6, she joined in as well.

We went right on that way until my oldest sister got married when she was 19. I was 14 then, and the little one was 9. We had such fun! And after the oldest moved out of the house, we kept up the games every Saturday night, each of us getting better and better at reaching numerous powerful consecutive orgasms. I’ll tell you, Mother’s bed must have more female juices soaked into it than any bed ever has!

So, then the next oldest went away to college and it was just me, at 16, and my little sister, who was 13, and Mother, then 40. The three of us kept up the tradition and I, truthfully, decided not to go away to college and not get married so that I wouldn’t break up our wonderful Saturday nights. Finally, when the youngest was 18 and I was 21, she left home and it was just Mother and me. We continued masturbating together, and not only on Saturdays, but now almost every night.

If Mother hadn’t suddenly had a stroke and died less than a year later, we might still be doing it. But then I was alone and I was devastated. Almost by instinct, I got married right away and quickly started having children. Fortunately, my first two were daughters, which is what I wanted, and then I divorced my husband. All I really needed was those two girls. After several years, though, I felt the desire for a larger family and so I adopted two cute little sweethearts, twin girls, when they were just a few weeks old. They’re 11 now, and my others daughters are 17 and 16.

The same as my mother did with our family, I’ve taught my girls all about masturbation from a very young age. We spend each Saturday night together, playing and talking and laughing and singing and, of course, masturbating. My older girls like to watch porno movies while we’re doing it, and I like that too. We get the ones that show very pretty young girls touching themselves and sometimes we also like to watch lesbian videos. And something new has also started happening recently.

When I was growing up, my sisters and I and my mother never really touched each other sexually. We were just together, very close, but focused on touching ourselves. But my little twin girls have taken to masturbating each other. I suppose for them it’s almost like they’re touching themselves. Although it made me a bit uncomfortable at first, I wanted to give them freedom to do whatever felt best. And now, I have to admit, I really enjoy seeing them together, holding each other close and kissing. As I watch those two identical lovely, pale, slender little bodies with breasts just barely starting to show, touching, licking, kissing, caressing, fondling, fingering, and bringing each other to orgasm, it’s added a whole new level of excitement. I’ve even begun to hope that maybe their older sisters will decide to try the same thing, and I’ve dropped a few not so subtle hints to that effect. So far, no results, but you never know. Tomorrow is Saturday, and this just might be my lucky weekend.

 

Elizabeth, 36, mother of one daughter, age 16:

Faith, my daughter, and I have such a great relationship. We’re always playing around together, teasing each other and stuff. She knows just what to do to get me all excited, and she loves doing it. I guess we’re sort of the reverse of some of the others, because even though I deliberately paraded around mostly naked in front of her from the time she was just little, and even though I always dressed really sexy and tried to emphasize my long legs and my figure, it was Faith who sort of got things started. Well, I mean, maybe it was both of us. But mostly her.

The very first time it happened was when she was 14, two years ago. We were sitting together on the sofa late one Saturday night watching TV, and you know, that’s when some of the cable movie channels have adult movies on. Well, Faith is flipping around the dial and she comes across the start of this movie where two women are flirting with each other, and then they start kissing, and then they start taking their clothes off! So I said, naturally, like any good mother should, that we don’t want to watch that (even though I really did want to watch it).

I’ll never forget my daughter saying, “Come on, Mom, of course we should watch it, it’s hot!” And so we did. We sat there together and watched these two beautiful young women kissing each other and then taking off each other’s clothes, and touching each other’s bodies, and then one girl started licking and sucking the other girl’s breasts, and — wow, it was really erotic. My pussy was getting so wet and I could barely keep from touching myself. But then, after that scene was over, that is, after we’d watched them rub each other’s pussies and then watched them go down on each other in a 69 position until they both climaxed, the next scene showed a different woman masturbating while she’s watching the scene we just watched on a video tape!

I was so into the movie at this point that I’d nearly forgotten Faith was there. But then I heard her moan, and I looked over and saw that she had one hand down inside her pajama bottoms while the other hand was caressing her breasts on the outside of her pullover top. I came very close to saying something that would make her stop, but for some reason I didn’t. I let her go on that way and before long I started touching myself too. And when the woman on TV started coming, both Faith and I did too. It was so incredible, almost surreal, that we were sitting there, mother and daughter, masturbating while watching a porno movie together. But it felt so good.

After our orgasms, we looked at each other and just laughed and smiled. I knew right then that we’d discovered something very special that we could share with each other.

That very night, I took Faith upstairs to my bedroom and showed her where I kept my secret stash of adult videotapes and DVDs. I told her she could use them any time, or we could watch them together whenever she wanted. She said how about right now, and so we did. The movies I have are all of young women either masturbating or making love with other young women. That’s what I like best and my taste certainly seemed to suit Faith. She chose one and we started it showing on the TV in my bedroom, then we snuggled together on the bed and played with ourselves for the next hour and a half. I have no idea how many orgasms we each had — too many to count — but finally we were exhausted. Faith asked if she could sleep in my room that night and so we shared a bed, cuddling with each other in our warm erotic afterglow and sleeping wonderfully.

Two years later and it’s every bit as special now as it was then. My daughter and I are really very sexual with each other. It’s almost like we’re lesbian girlfriends or something. No, that’s not right, I mean, we don’t really make love, per se, but we kind of play and tease like we’re lovers. One thing we like to do is go shopping together at places like Victoria’s Secret and try on naughty little outfits for each other in the dressing room. I swear, every single time we do that we always end up watching each other masturbate right there in the dressing room! It’s so hot to be together that way, so turned on and yet having to stay quiet and not be discovered. God, what amazing orgasms we’ve had doing that!

 

Gina, 37, mother of one daughter, age 12:

We only started recently, just about six months ago, a few weeks before she turned 12. I’d actually been thinking a lot about it for several years and masturbating like crazy while I imagined what it would be like doing it in front of her. Before I got brave enough to do what I really wanted, I’d fantasized about it a lot and made myself cum hundreds of times while thinking about having her watch me. Then she came home from school one day and said they’d learned about masturbation in health class, but she didn’t really understand because she’d never tried it.

That was just what I wanted to hear! I told Hannah, my daughter, that we’d have a sort of special homework class after dinner that night. And that’s what we did. I took her into my bedroom and took off my clothes and started showing her all the parts of a woman’s body. I suggested that she take off her clothes too, so we could compare, and she did. I showed her the difference between my mature breasts and her still-developing ones. I licked my finger and rubbed it lightly over the tip of my nipple to make it grow long and hard and she did the same to her nipples. I parted my labia and showed her where my clitoris was and I helped her find her own. She remarked that I seemed to have a lot more moisture between the lips than she did and I said that’s because I am very easily aroused. It doesn’t take much at all, and just talking about our bodies and especially touching myself (and touching her as well, which I chose not to mention) very quickly put me in the mood for an orgasm. She asked how often I did it (every single day, at least once, often more) and whether I could tell her the best way to masturbate.

Well, I said, I could tell you, but perhaps the best thing is for me to show you. Hannah seemed to like that idea, and so I started by caressing my breasts, getting my nipples nice and hard, even lifting them up to my face so I could lick the tips. She thought that was really cool and was jealous that her little breasts we`re way too small for it to work.

After spending several minutes working on my breasts and my nipples, my cunt was aching to be touched and I told Hannah how it felt. I said, I can feel my clit throbbing and when I press my thighs together like this, ooh, it feels so good. I could almost cum without even touching myself. But I want to touch myself, Hannah, because that feels even better. And I want you to watch so that you can learn how to do it for yourself. Okay? She nodded eagerly, and so I opened my legs to her, spreading my thighs apart and gently stroking the soft skin near my crotch. I could smell my arousal and I was sure she could too, although she didn’t say anything.

Now watch closely, Hannah, I said, while Mommy plays with herself. Get down there close so that you can see everything, honey.

As I saw my darling daughter’s fresh little 11-year-old face getting down between my legs, as I saw her big green eyes wide with excitement, and saw her long, shiny copper-colored hair draping over my knee, I had to restrain myself from grabbing my cunt right away and having an almost instantaneous orgasm. But somehow, I managed to wait, to take it slow.

Look at Mommy’s vagina, I said in a quavering voice. See how the lips get all puffy and red? That’s what happens during sexual excitement. And when I run just the tips of my fingers up and down over this very soft skin on the inside part of my thigh, it feels really really good. Do you want to touch it and see how soft it is? That’s right, that’s Mommy’s good little girl. Now watch when Mommy pulls her lips apart so you can look inside. See how wet it is? Can you see right up inside Mommy’s vagina? See how pink I am? Your little vagina is like that too, except it won’t get so wet unless you are very very excited. It’s okay, you can touch it if you want. Go ahead, touch Mommy’s pink vagina. Feel how soft and smooth and wet it is. Go on, honey, it’s alright. There… AHH! Ooh, you made Mommy tickle when you touched her there. That’s a good girl. It feels so nice. You want to touch Mommy again? Go on, baby. Yes, that’s right. Ohh, god yes… Now—no, don’t take your hand away! Keep it there. Put your finger back inside and push it in just a little more deeply. Mmm, that’s my girl. Oh, don’t stop, push it in more. Uh-huh, now pull it out a little and then push it back in, deeper. Yes, your finger is getting wet, isn’t it. I know, it’s really warm inside there. Your little vagina will feel warm too, when you fu— I mean, when you do this for yourself. But, oh, ah, keep helping Mommy now. Don’t stop. And watch, sweetie, how I’m rubbing my fingers on my clit while you help me down there. Come on, keep… keep moving your finger in and out… honey, baby, can you do two fingers for Mommy? Can Mommy’s little girl put two fingers inside now? Yeah, uh-huh, that’s right, oh, goddamn that feels so fucking good! Mommy’s getting close now, baby — Mommy’s getting ready to cum. Mommy’s going to cum on your hand… right… NOW!!!

Unh…ohh…fuck, that’s so good!! Mmmm, uh… uh-oh — Jesus, did I just masturbate in front of you? I’m so sorry, I guess I just got caught up in remembering it.

What? Oh, well, since then we pretty much have just repeated what we did the first time. I’ve asked her if she wants to masturbate together with me, but she says she likes doing it better by herself. But she seems very happy “helping” me the way she does. Basically, she fingers my cunt and I rub my clit and I have incredibly powerful orgasms. I guess technically you could say we are having sex, but I don’t think of it that way. To me, it’s more like she’s just giving me a foot rub or a back rub or something. It’s a little more intimate than that, of course, but it still feels innocent and natural.

 

Jennifer, 35, mother of two daughters, 13 and 9:

Sure, I feel guilty about it sometimes, but then I figure what’s the harm. I mean, my mother kept me in her bed with her the whole time I was growing up. I’d fall asleep at night sucking her breasts, even when I was 10 or 12 years old. It’s just what we always did. When I was younger, of course, I didn’t realize that Mother was masturbating while I sucked on her nipples. But by the time I was 8 or 9, I could tell that something was happening, and that’s about the time she started teaching me how to give myself an orgasm.

The last time I did that with my mother was when I was 18 years old, the night before I went off to college. We cried together that night, because we both knew it would never be the same way again. But I sucked on her nipples while she masturbated, and then I made myself cum while she got down between my legs and watched, which is what we always did. We slept together that night in each other’s arms and the next morning we showered together and for the one and only time in our lives, we fingered each other. I suppose it was because we knew something was ending and that this would never happen again, and so we let our inhibitions go. She sucked on my nipples for the first time, and we kissed, which we’d never done before, in a sexual way I mean, and we held each other tight and then she slipped her hand down between my legs and I slid my hand down to her pussy and we made each other cum. It was glorious and beautiful. We never repeated it, and just three years later my mother died of cancer when she was only 42. I miss her so much.

But now I’m carrying on the tradition, you might say, and maybe in a way I’m doing it to honor her. Of course, I’m also doing it because I want to, because my daughter Kayla is so incredibly sexy, and because it’s the best way I know to express my feelings for her. Kayla is my 13-year-old, and what a beauty she is. Watching her grow up, I knew all along that she would become an exceptionally desirable young woman, and that’s what she is.

I haven’t followed exactly the same pattern with Kayla as what I had with my mother. She doesn’t suck on my nipples, for example — at least, not yet — but we do sleep together in the same bed and masturbate together. And just like my mother used to love watching up close while I played with myself, I do the same thing with her. In fact, we sort of do it at the same time. We each lay on our sides, head to foot, or really head to genitals, so we can see exactly what the other person is doing. And we love talking to each other while we’re masturbating — dirty talk, you might say — describing to each other how we’re rubbing our clits or fucking our cunts or what have you. It’s extremely exciting that way.

Now that my little one, Lauren, is not so little any more, I think it’s about time to get her involved as well. She’s only 9 years old, which might seem too young, but I don’t think it is. After all, that’s how old I was when my mother taught me to masturbate, so I kind of I think owe it to Lauren to give her an early start just like I had. Besides, she has the cutest little body that’s just beginning to develop, and I must admit selfishly that want to be able to watch her up close, as close as I can, as her little breasts begin to bud and as her pubic hair starts to grow out. I can’t imagine anything more special than a mother and daughter sharing that wonderful time together.

Kayla and I often talk about Lauren, and about bringing her into our bed. The younger one has always slept by herself, while Kayla slept with me. But now we have agreed that it’s time to make it a threesome. Kayla is almost as excited about Lauren as I am. Sometimes when we’re masturbating together, Kayla will talk about how fun it would be to watch Lauren play with her hairless little pussy or pinch her tiny nipples. It makes Kayla cum really hard when I tell her to pretend that instead of looking at my cunt, she’s seeing her little sister’s fingers sliding in and out of that smooth pussy.

So now we’re ready, both of us. The only thing I can’t figure out is how we can all three watch each other at the same time. Maybe we’ll have to take turns. Or maybe I’ll try Mother’s method after all, and have my two daughters suck on my nipples while I make myself cum. Ooh, that sounds great!

 

Afterword

In conclusion, the designers of this survey should be forthright and state that they also are mother and daughter, a forty-six-year-old PhD and twenty-five-year-old graduate student, and that they became involved in similar sexual activities with each other when the mother, Ingrid, was thirty-one and the daughter, Sonya, was ten. This relationship has carried on until the present day.

In our case, it began with Ingrid conducting an unusual experiment using her young daughter as a subject. The aim was to learn whether images of women masturbating would be arousing to a girl at various stages of her development.

Beginning at age six, and thereafter once a year for the next six years, Ingrid exposed Sonya to a series of erotic photographs and videos during hour-long sessions repeated daily for one week. Sonya was connected to instruments to measure her pulse rate, blood pressure, skin temperature, and brain activity. The results showed that as Sonya matured, her reactions to the images she was seeing intensified physically.

It should be noted that Ingrid did not intervene to stop Sonya from touching herself during these sessions (in response to or in imitation of the masturbatory acts she was seeing), nor did she do anything to overtly encourage such self-pleasuring. Ingrid did, however, observe Sonya on a concealed camera while the girl was watching videos and looking at pictures in magazines. She also had hidden cameras installed in Sonya’s bedroom so she could study her daughter’s actions when she was alone.

At ages six and seven, Sonya made no apparent attempts at masturbation during the sessions, but by age eight, she could be seen rubbing her crotch while watching the videos, and she also asked her mother at that time if she could keep one of the magazines being used. Ingrid allowed this, and then she observed Sonya playing with herself in her bedroom while looking at the pictures. It was not clear at the time whether the girl was able to achieve orgasm.

During the sessions when Sonya was ten years old, she began to verbally express significant curiosity about what she was viewing. She openly played with herself while being shown the videos, and then asked her mother to teach her how to masturbate like the women she had seen. Ingrid took Sonya into her bed and they masturbated together. It was then that Sonya experienced her first orgasm.

Ingrid and Sonya continued to masturbate together for the next two years. Then, when Sonya was twelve, Ingrid decided to modify the experiment and show her daughter videos and photos of two or more women having lesbian sex. Again, she measured the girl’s physical reactions and also observed her behavior on hidden camera. By this time, of course, Sonya was quite adept at bringing herself repeatedly to a climax, and this is what she did while watching the videos and looking at the pictures.

After having seen the images of lesbian lovemaking, Sonya was eager to try it. She spoke to her mother about her desires, and Ingrid told her that although Sonya was too young to be looking for sexual partners, if she was truly interested in learning, Ingrid would demonstrate with her some of the things women could do together.

This is how we became lesbian lovers, beginning when Sonya was twelve and Ingrid thirty-three. Thirteen years later, we are still deeply involved in sexual activity with one another, and although we each will sometimes enjoy other female partners (either separately or together), our primary relationship is with each other.

 

Personal Addendum

Finally, permit us to say that although this study was conducted with scrupulous precision and academic objectivity, we view the findings with satisfaction, and indeed with pleasure. It’s gratifying to know that we have been able to shed light on a subject far too long hidden: the natural desire for women to share themselves in a sexually intimate way with their young daughters, and the consequent beneficial behaviors flowing from that desire.  

Our hope is that as this phenomenon becomes better understood — and especially as women everywhere learn how common it truly is — many more mothers and many more daughters will experience the special closeness such activities can provide.  

 

Innocence and Nature, Chapter 1

  • Posted on July 26, 2016 at 2:34 pm

By Alison Wheatcroft

 

Holy shit! This has got to be wrong, right? I have an eight-year-old girl, who definitely knows better, naked in my bedroom! I don’t know where to look! The fact I am dressed in just a bra-top and shorts isn’t helping matters. If her parents – or mine, for that matter – come back any time soon we, well, specifically me, will be in deep shit.

Let me start at the beginning.

I am Edith Wheater. I’m fifteen (sixteen in three and a half weeks), fairly tall, gawky-looking (the red hair doesn’t help either). I wear glasses, have small braces, and barely even fill out an A-cup bra. The mean girls at school called me Eddie, given how little female traits I possessed. I use the past tense “called”; exams finished two weeks ago and I’ve been away from their clutches for that whole blessed fortnight. The boys, thankfully, largely ignored me.

I live with my mum, dad and younger brother, who, like most little brothers, is a complete twat. He’s only nine, though, so he can just about get away with it. For now, anyway. We live in a cul-de-sac in a small Yorkshire town. There are four houses and ours is the furthest back. Behind our back garden is woodland. Well, it’s more of a large copse. Eh. Semantics.

We get on well with the neighbours to our right (as you look at the house), and not so well with the neighbours to the left. The fourth house is currently empty – the owner rents it out but can’t find anyone to pay what my dad calls “ransom money”. We often sneak into the garden and play/hide/giggle there. By “we” I mean myself and the only real friend I have, who lives three streets away. Her name is Erica. She’s a bit of a social outcast too. One of the greatest things I ever heard her say was “We are both lonely. At least we share that.” More about her later, as she had nothing to do with the difficult scenario in which I now find myself.

The neighbours we get on with are the Watkins family. The mum is a teacher, and the dad a chef. They have a son, who is currently away in the military, and an eight-year-old daughter. That’s Bonnie. Because their jobs can frequently mean they are out all kinds of hours, or only one of them is in, the neighbourhood teenagers are often roped in for babysitting duties. Today, on a warm, mid-July day, that fell to me. I was nearest, and the Watkins knew I was available. That’s what happens when your mother brags about how well she thinks I’ve done in my exams. I don’t have her level of confidence.

Anyway, early this morning we get a knock at the door. Mrs. Watkins wants to know if I can look after Bonnie today. She’s complaining of nausea, a headache and other bodily functions that are unlikely to be pleasant. Before I could even think of sneaking out of the back door, over the fence and into the trees, mum whips her head round and spies me, frozen and on tiptoe, and readily agrees that I’d be delighted to look after the invalid for the day. She then even suggests bringing Bonnie to ours with some toys and colouring books. My brother has an Xbox One as well. We have a lot of Disney Blu-rays. I think that was the deal clincher.

Don’t get me wrong; Bonnie is a great kid and really fun to be around, but on a day like this I just wanted to find Erica, head into the woods and maybe do some writing in the nice weather. A pukey eight-year-old and a day indoors wasn’t what I had in mind. Still, I’d been roped into it, and if she was unwell she’d likely be resting most of the day, leaving me free to pursue other avenues of entertainment.

Imagine my surprise when Mrs. Watkins returned ten minutes later with Bonnie, who, other than a slightly suspicious look of queasiness, seemed in perfect health. I took Bonnie through to the front room (which, strangely, is at the back of our house) and got her settled on the sofa with her blanket, her cuddly toy cat and a glass of water. I checked her temperature, and it felt normal. But then again, Science was a weak subject for me at school. I might have been wrong. In fact, I was almost certain.

I heard my mother saying farewell to Mrs. Watkins, then starting to gather her things for work. She has an important role in a finance company, and it’s not unusual to see her come back close to ten o’clock at night. Father works as a fraud investigator, and was away in Wales for the week. After telling me to call her or Bonnie’s mum if there were any problems, she gave me a peck on the cheek, and was out of the door.

“Hey, Bonnie,” I said, with what I hoped was a caring look on my face. “I hear you’ve been unwell, is that right?”

She nodded. “I’ve already been sick two billion times today,” she said, in a voice that was a lot stronger than someone who would have done that, embellishment or no.

“Mmmm, well, you look in good health to me, so as long as you don’t go dying on me, I’m sure we can have a good day.” I said, hoping that Erica might come by and keep me company at least.

“I promise not to die,” she said in a forcedly weak voice, “I just feel really, really awful.
Definitely not well enough for school.” Something clicked in the recesses of my mind. My brother Ryan had tried this gambit a couple of times before when he knew he had a spelling test that day.

“Well, if you’re not well enough to play at break time, you’re going to have to stay indoors all of today, wrapped up nice and warm.” I gave her a knowing, eyebrows-raised look. Within three seconds she knew she had been rumbled.

“Okay, I’m not really sick,” she said. “I just didn’t want to go to school today because we’re doing really difficult maths and when I get it wrong all the other kids will laugh at me and I’d rather stay at home and enjoy the sunshine,” she added in one long breath.

“You and me both, kid.” I said with a smile. “Who wants to learn what thirteen times thirteen is when you can sit in the sun and eat ice-lollies?”

Her face lit up at that. “Come on,” I said, “let’s get a few towels and sit out in the sun. Don’t
worry, I won’t tell your mum – you might be able to fool her, but not me. Instead of boring school, I’ve got some really good books from when I was your age. We can read those, do some drawing, get a suntan?”

I’d added that last one flippantly. Bonnie was a fair-haired child with almost marble-white skin. Five minutes in the sun and she’d cook. Which is about four and a half minutes longer than I would last. I was surprised when she said yes.

“I’m not sure if we have much sun lotion here, Bonnie,” I said, knowing that to be mostly true – Dad had still not got around to stocking up ahead of our holiday to Portugal just after my birthday. What little we had left would be old, ineffective, and insufficient.

Bonnie pointed at the bag her mum had brought along. Nah. No way.

I opened it, and underneath all of the colouring pens, tissues, drinks and comics was a bottle of high-factor sun lotion.

“You sneaky little madam,” I whispered, and I heard Bonnie chuckle behind me.

“I knew Mum would ask you to look after me,” she said, “and I knew you were clever enough to know I wasn’t well – I just wanted to spend time with you. So I sneaked that in there this morning when Mum came over to talk to your mum. I also brought…”

She reached into her sleep trousers and pulled out a thin, two-piece bathing suit. It was small, with frills on the hems, and very short, and a shade of very light yellow that I actually quite liked.

“You’re a regular little criminal genius, you are!” I said, not able to stop myself laughing at her ingenuity. “Go on, I give in! Let’s get some towels and some cold drinks, and you can pick out which books you would like to read.”

She followed me upstairs. That was when things got weird.

We went up to my bedroom, which overlooked the back garden. I liked its solitude and privacy – nobody could see into it from the gardens nearby, and there were no houses behind ours for about three miles. Unless some pervert was using a high-powered telescope, I had my own little sanctuary.

I had two towels from earlier that morning, which I had used in my en-suite bathroom after a cooling shower. Even at nearly nine o’clock, the temperature was rising. Today would be lethally hot. Bonnie went in first, and spent five minutes looking through my old books, picking out a half dozen, then dropping them on the bed next to where I was sat.

Then, without warning, she took her top off, exposing a bare, pale chest, with two faint, pink spots on her chest. She had extremely small nipples. I was that astounded by her casual attitude to her own nudity that I couldn’t even begin to muster a word. Forget speaking, I didn’t even know where to put my eyes! Her chest was like that of a boy, only, well, different.

If that wasn’t bad enough, she then pulled down her pyjama bottoms and knickers all in one go, her small bottom facing me. She then turned around, and I couldn’t help but glance at her small, hairless cleft. That area definitely didn’t look like a boy. She reached past me, grabbed a towel, and within seconds had it wrapped around her, fastening it just under her armpits.

“Good to go, Edie!” she said, heading for the door. I simply nodded, picked up the books and my towel, and followed her out on to the landing and down the stairs, a still slightly bemused look on my face. While I understood about the human physique, I have always had a strange problem with nudity. I still got changed in the cubicles at the swimming baths. The only other person I’ve seen even remotely nude, other than myself, is Erica, and that was only from the side.

Bonnie was climbing into her swimming bottoms when I next entered the living room. She then picked up the top and looked at it quizzically.

“I don’t think I need this, do I?” she said, looking at me, “I mean, if I’m going to tan, Mum will know I wasn’t unwell, and I’d rather get told off with a full tan than one with tan-lines.”

Trying to maintain eye-contact, I simply nodded. Bonnie grinned, then turned round and skipped to the back door, opening it with ease and running on to the back garden. I gathered up my towel, two cold bottles of water from the fridge, the books, and the suntan lotion, and attempted a semi-miraculous balancing act down the single step and on to the grass.

Bonnie had already got her towel down and was laid on her back, spread-eagled in a starfish fashion, her hazel eyes screwed tight against the bright sun. I put my towel down a few feet from her and started arranging everything else I had brought out for us.

“Okay, Bonnie, time to get some sunscreen on you,” I said, holding up the bottle. “We can’t have you going home redder than my hair.”

She laughed at that and held her hand out for the bottle. I passed it over, and she started by applying it to her legs, then arms. I watched in unknowing fascination as she began rubbing it all over her chest and neck, before she finished with her face. I really should have coated myself first – red hair, blue eyes and pale skin do not go well with sunlight – but I wanted her safe first before myself; I was older and could tolerate a mild sunburn. Plus, it was still early and the sun was still just powering up its ferocity.

“Can you do my back?” she asked, “I’m grown up enough to do everywhere else, but my arms aren’t that long.” This wasn’t something that bothered me. I’d had to do this for my brother for a couple of years on holiday now – how he was a year older than her and still incapable of applying suncream, I’d never know.

Bonnie lay on her front, naked save for a pair of tight yellow swimming pants. I liberally coated her back – if she got burned, I’d be in trouble as well as her – then started using the lotion on myself. The scent of shea butter rose welcomingly into the air as I massaged it into my legs, arms, chest and face.

“Do you want me to do your back?” Bonnie asked. Weird as that request might have seemed in normal circumstance, there was nobody else to do it for me, and this was Bonnie from next door, after all.

“Aren’t you going to take your top off too?” Bonnie asked as she dripped cold suncream on the small of my back. I sucked in a short breath.

“I can’t, Bonnie,” I said. “Bigger girls like me have to keep their chests covered.”

“Is that because of your tits?”

If the suncream hadn’t made me gasp, that remark certainly did.

“Where did you hear that word?” I responded automatically.

“I heard Mum talking with Dad about hers. Is it a rude word?”

“Not as rude as some others, but still one an eight-year-old shouldn’t be using too often. Make sure your parents don’t hear you saying it.”

“Okay. But is it because of your, well, thingies.”

“Yes, Bonnie, it is. I was always taught to keep them covered up. Plus, I don’t have very big ones, and I’m shy about them being out.”

“Okay,” Bonnie said. “But nobody will see. I don’t have any either, so I can’t laugh. Plus, you’ll get tan lines, then people will laugh!”

“I can’t argue with that logic,” I said. “Though in absolutely no circumstances can you tell anyone. We’d both get in a lot of trouble!”

I sat up and pulled my top over my head, my back to Bonnie, and laid back down. While I was willing to entertain her curiosity I wasn’t about to be brazen about it. She had a confidence that not a lot of youngsters exhibited. More than myself, anyway. And also a certain amount of knowledge. Youngsters these days were very well-informed, it seems.

Bonnie then added a bit of suncream to the part of my back where my top had been, and handed me the bottle, so I could apply some to my almost-flat chest. I shuddered a little as the palm of my hand went over my left nipple. What on earth was going on with me?

“All done!” I said, tossing the bottle aside, before taking a deep breath and turning around to face the equally topless and slightly flatter-chested eight-year-old girl. “So, what should we do first?”

“How good are you at drawing?” Bonnie asked.

“Not too bad,” I replied, thinking ‘utterly bloody awful’. I had never scored higher than a D in Art at high school. I was a mean stick-figure drawer, however.

“Ace,” Bonnie said, jumping up and running back into the house, which I was thankful was locked at the front and protected by a heavy gate at the side. “I’ve got a great idea!”

She returned a few seconds after with two large pads of paper and more pencils – coloured and normal – than I had ever seen in my life.

“I think we should draw something awesome!” she said. “No telling what it is though, we have to let it be a surprise!”

I picked out a normal pencil and about six coloured ones, and propped myself up on my left elbow, leaving my right free to draw with. Bonnie was obviously right-handed too, as she mirrored my pose, only lying opposite, my head a bit away from her very small feet.

I couldn’t think for the first few minutes of what to draw. I must have thought of half of all known species of animal before scratching that idea. Then something popped into my mind – I had always had a mediocre skill in 3-D letters. I decided to do Bonnie’s name in 3-D, with the sides done in varying shades of different colours.

We kept stealing glances at each other, grinning slightly, and I could see her eyes rake over my admittedly underdeveloped chest. My breasts, to be honest, were little more than buds. Hardly the greatest example of burgeoning adulthood to present to a curious young mind.

After fifteen minutes, I could feel the sun really beating down on us, but thankfully I’d finished drawing and colouring in. I grabbed a bottle of water from under the edge of the towel that was thankfully in the shade, cracked it open, and took a deep draught of it. The coolness was incredibly refreshing. I sighed with pleasure.

“Want some?” I asked. Bonnie nodded, and I tossed the bottle the few feet across the grass. It bounced awkwardly, and sprayed her lower chest with cold water. She squealed and rolled backwards, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Sorry!” I called, “that was an accident, honest! The flip caps on these bottles are useless!”

Bonnie stood up, and she was wet from the navel down. Her yellow swim trunks, while ideal for the job, were becoming a little transparent. I could see the material clinging tightly, and it was a few seconds before I realised that I was staring at her crotch.

“Are you okay?” I asked, genuinely concerned.

“I know it’s hot, but there are better ways to cool down!” she said in mock exasperation.

“At least you have the right equipment to deal with a little accident like that,” I said, pointing
between her pants and the towel.

“I know an easier way to sort it,” Bonnie said, and to my astonishment, pulled off her bottoms in one smooth motion, and stood before me, completely nude. I dropped the pencil I was holding and could feel my mouth gaping open. This day was getting weirder and weirder.

Chapter 2 is coming soon!

I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 39

  • Posted on July 24, 2016 at 2:43 pm

Unexpected Visitors

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

At the moment when Cheryl and the girls began their game of Truth or Dare, Gwen was entering her home with a bag of groceries. She had stopped on the way home to pick up a few things.

When she saw the silhouette of the large man sitting in one of her dining chairs, she dropped the bag. The sound of eggs breaking seemed to fill the room for a brief second, then silence.

“I have a few questions to ask you.” It was Mitch. He reached up and turned on the reading lamp beside the chair. Both the chair and a lamp had been moved from their usual places so that Mitch could see her enter. She stared into his face, wondering if she would ever be seen again.

Mitch took out a .45 handgun and pointed it at Gwen. “Now, Ms. Fremont, private detective, suppose we dispense with the bullshit about you being some lady pimp wanting to expand your business.”

Gwen stared at Mitch, but all she could see was the dark hole at the end of the muzzle of the handgun. It looked like a long, dark tunnel that led to eternity. It held her, spellbound with fear.

“Ms. Fremont, you there?”

Her eyes jerked up to look at his face. She felt oddly surprised to see Mitch there. “Yeah. I mean, yes. I’m okay.”

“Have a seat,” Mitch said, indicating a second dining chair, which had also been moved. “Make yourself comfortable,” he added, as if he owned the house and Gwen was a guest. The dining chair faced Mitch from an angle to his right about ten feet from where he sat.

“So,” he continued, “what was the real reason you wanted to, well, do what you did?”

“You know I can’t divulge information about that,” Gwen said.

Mitch had seemed pleasant until that moment. He leaned forward and his eyes got hard, along with his voice. “Listen, lady, I’m going to divulge a bullet into your brain or you’re going to tell me everything about this case. Do you understand?”

Gwen considered trying to run for it, but as her body tensed to flee, she noticed Mitch’s chauffeur out of the corner of her eye. He was now blocking her only escape route from this boxed in room. She had no idea where he had been when she entered, probably hiding in the coat closet until she walked past it to sit down so he could do exactly what he was doing now — keep her from running.

“So I will ask once more,” Mitch continued, his voice calm again, as if he were asking her if she wanted some tea. “What was the real reason you approached me looking for a partnership with Mr. Craven?”

Gwen realized she had no choice. Mitch had probably been the one to kill Kinsey and maybe even Cindy. He would have no qualms about killing her. She could disappear just like Cindy. She would have to tell him and hope he wouldn’t kill her when she’d finished. She had never felt fear like this before. Until that day, she had never felt her life was in danger because of her job. The movies and TV made it look as if private detectives had their lives threatened on a daily basis, but that wasn’t true. She’d been in this business for seven years, and this was the first time she felt truly in danger of being killed. Oh, she’d had cheating husbands threaten her, but she knew those were the empty threats of bullies.

This was different. Mitch wasn’t a bully trying to scare her. He was a man who killed other people.

The fear welled up in her and she felt herself begin to cry. At the same time, Gwen’s bladder let go from fear and she felt the urine running down to the chair and onto the floor. Mitch just glanced down at the growing puddle and said, “Well?” Obviously, he’d seen this happen before.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, barely able to control the shaking of her voice.

“Not if you convince me I have no reason to,” he said. “So tell me what I want to know.” Now his voice gained an edge of impatience.

“I was hired to find out what happened to Cindy.”

“Who’s Cindy?” Mitch asked. The frightening thought that he’d killed so many people he had lost track of their names shot through Gwen’s mind.

“One of the call girls Mr. Craven had working for him.”

“Oh, that Cindy,” he said. His glance moved to focus his mind on a distant memory then returned to Gwen. “Why are you looking for her?”

“She has a daughter who would like to know what happened to her mother,” Gwen said. Even in her fright, she felt the anger rise in her that someone would deprive a child of her mother and allow the child to grow up wondering what had happened.

“Don’t tell me the daughter hired you. She’s only, what now? Ten, eleven?”

It surprised Gwen that this man knew so much about Jenna. Had they ever met? “No, Jenna didn’t hire me.”

“Then who did?”

“Please don’t hurt her. She just wants to know if Cindy is dead or alive.”

Something in Mitch’s face changed. “Kayleigh hired you?”

Gwen was shocked he’d figured it all out so easily, but she managed a nod before saying, “She means nobody any harm. She just wants to know for Jenna.”

Mitch sat in thought for a moment.

“Kayleigh.” The word had been spoken to nobody. It sounded more like a sigh than a name. Mitch looked at Gwen. He seemed to make a decision. She hoped it was in her favor. He let out a deep breath and said, “Tell Kayleigh that Cindy’s alive, but she needs to stop looking for her because she won’t find her. And if she keeps searching, she won’t like what happens. And neither, may I add, will you.”

Hope re-entered Gwen’s life. If she was going to deliver a message to Kayleigh, she’d have to live. Not only that, but Mitch knew Cindy was alive.

“You’re sure she’s not dead?”

“Positive. Listen, I wouldn’t tell you shit but Mr. Craven sorta owes Kayleigh. This is that payback.”

“Why can’t we know where she is?”

“Because I fucking said so!” Anger had burst back into his voice. “I will tell you this. She belongs to someone else now, and that someone would not take kindly to some nosy bitch sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. This guy paid Cindy’s debt to Mr. Craven, and he gave the guy Cindy in return. It was a business transaction. She’s alive and fine, but trying to find her will result in her not being alive and fine, along with whoever is snooping around.”

“Okay, I get it,” Gwen said. “I’ll tell Kayleigh what you’ve said.”

“Good. Now, my friend and I are going to leave. If you contact the police about my little visit here, the next time we meet won’t be so pleasant. Understand?” Mitch arched his brows to emphasize the point.

“Perfectly,” Gwen said.

Mitch stood and he and the chauffeur left through the front door.

Gwen broke down in sobs of relief as the fear dissipated.

After showering and putting on fresh clothes, she cleaned up the mess left behind by her bladder and the bag of groceries. Then she went to her bedroom, where she unlocked a cabinet and removed from the recorder marked “Front” the VHS tape that covered the past few days. It was set to take a single-frame picture every seven seconds. She replaced this tape with a new one and pushed the old tape into the VCR. She rewound the tape just a small bit and pressed play, watching for the images of Mitch and the chauffeur to show up. She didn’t care about the chauffeur. She mostly just wanted Mitch. She prayed she had a good shot of him.

She had decided to put the hidden security cameras in so that they would take a picture of anyone approaching her front or back door two years ago. It had cost more than she’d wanted to spend at the time, but it was worth it. Ornamental wrought iron flowers hid the lenses. Even she had to look very closely to even notice there was a camera lens there.

After a moment, the image of Mitch filled the screen. There he was, and she was in luck. The picture showed his face clearly. Now she had a picture of Mitch to show Kayleigh. Gwen wanted to see if her client knew him. If she did, she might be able to shed some light on what could be done about him, if anything.

Before leaving, she called Kayleigh’s home, but there was no answer. She debated leaving a message. If Mitch went there, he might listen to it, but she figured she had no choice.

“Kayleigh, it’s Gwen. When you hear this message, lock your doors and don’t answer the door unless it’s me. Don’t let anyone in at all. I’ll be right over to explain. I’ll wait for you in your driveway if you’re not home when I get there.”

Going to her front door, Gwen checked through the window beside it to see that nobody was watching her house before she opened the door to leave. She needed to get to Kayleigh’s as soon as she could.

*******

Kayleigh drove up her driveway after stopping for a drink on the way home from dropping Cheryl and Jenna at Marie’s and parked in her usual spot. Letting herself in, she went into the kitchen and noticed the phone’s message light blinking.

At first she didn’t want to listen to it until later. She longed to take a hot shower and masturbate to images of what was happening that night at Marie’s. Sometimes she was envious of her daughters. She thought of Jenna as her own now, despite the fact her real mother might be alive somewhere, but as time passed, she doubted that to be the case. Every day seemed to make it more likely that Cindy was dead, her body destined never to be found.

Now, however, she wanted to get that hot bath and imagine. She wanted to fantasize that she was seventeen again and at a party that included young girls. She’d been fortunate enough to have done just that when she was younger, but she was almost thirty now, and she knew the teen slumber parties no longer included her.

The blinking light on the recorder seemed to call to her, though. For some reason she felt maybe she should at least listen to the recording before having a night of solo sex. She’d ask her sister Emily to spend the night, except she was out of town until next week.

Giving in to the blinking light, she pressed the button and listened to the sole message that had been left four minutes before she got home.

It was from Gwen, and the urgency as she told her to lock her doors shot a chill up her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. She could hear the fear in Gwen’s voice.

Running to the front door, she locked it, hoping she wasn’t locking herself in with someone rather than locking a criminal out. Taking a butcher knife from the kitchen, she began going from room to room, opening closets and peering around corners. She didn’t know what had caused the urgent warning in the phone message, but the thought of Kinsey kept nagging at her, giving the warning more power.

She was startled by the doorbell, jumping in fright and letting out an involuntary yelp of fear and surprise.

Going to the door, she listened for a moment before peering through the peephole in the door. “Are you alone?” she asked through the door.

“Yes, let me in. It’s important.”

Unlocking the door, she let Gwen enter before bolting it shut again.

“What the hell is going on?” Kayleigh asked.

“Cindy’s alive.”

Kayleigh froze at this news. It was as if she was operated by electricity and the power had been shut off. She stood there, staring at Gwen. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“Are you sure?”

“That’s what Mitch said.”

“The guy you met who left you half-dressed on an on-ramp to a freeway?”

“Yes. And I have a video with his picture on my home security system. Do you have a VCR?”

“You’re kidding, right? With my job? It’s a necessity.”

Kayleigh led Gwen to the VCR and they plugged the tape in. Immediately, the picture of Mitch filled the screen.

Kayleigh froze again. Shit, this can’t be happening, she thought.

Gwen turned to Kayleigh and stopped short herself at the sight of Kayleigh’s shocked expression. “You know him?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve met him. Once at a party.”

“Do you know who he is? He says his name’s Mitch, but I doubt that’s his real name.”

“You’re right. His name is Mark,” Kayleigh said, her voice sounding far away as if someone else were speaking.

“What does he do for Mr. Craven? Is he, like, his right-hand man or something?” Gwen asked.

“No, he doesn’t do anything for Mr. Craven,” Kayleigh nearly whispered. “He is Mr. Craven.”

Gwen was stunned. She thought he was not exactly who he said he was, but she never suspected he was the man himself. She felt as if she were in a sequel to the movie The Usual Suspects, where the scared flunky turned out to be the professional killer everyone was looking for, even though Mitch was no scared flunky.

“Holy fucking… are you kidding me?! He’s Mr. Craven?!” Gwen asked. Her face registered how stunned she was by this news.

Kayleigh just nodded.

“Well, I guess that makes some sense anyway,” Gwen said, remembering that he had mentioned that Mr. Craven owed Kayleigh a favor.

“What do you mean?” Kayleigh asked.

“He said something about owing you a favor. What was that all about?”

“Oh,” Kayleigh said, considering her answer. “Years ago, I introduced him to the person now known as Lynnette Baxter. He’s made a ton of money off of her talents.”

“Isn’t she the one who can lick her own pussy and ass?”

“Yeah.”

Gwen chuckled for the first time since walking into her home that evening. “Do you know how often I’ve wanted to be able to do that?”

“Join the club, girl,” Kayleigh said before quickly changing the subject to the matter at hand. “So what did he say about Cindy, exactly?”

Gwen filled Kayleigh in on the details of their meeting.

“So she’s alive and being pimped by someone else?” Kayleigh said.

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“Do you think he meant it… what he said… about not trying to find her or we’d die?” Kayleigh asked.

“Oh, yeah. He meant it. Definitely.”

“So you think we should drop it? Do you think she’s safe with this other person?” Kayleigh said.

Gwen looked at Kayleigh, basically one of her employers. At least she was until this moment.

“Yeah. As hard as it is to say, yeah. I think you should drop it. I know I am. About whether or not she’s safe, I suppose she’s as safe as she’s going to get. At least she’s still alive, and it’s been three years.”

“So you’re saying if I want to continue, I’ll have to find another investigator?” Kayleigh frowned, her brow furrowing in displeasure.

“Sorry, but yes.” Gwen paused before continuing. “Kayleigh, he scared the shit out of me. He literally scared the piss out of me. I peed myself sitting right there in front of him. He just watched me do it and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. I got the feeling he’s used to scaring people that badly.”

“Okay. I’ll take your advice and cool it for a while. He must be in contact with this other person who now ‘owns’ Cindy. I could see Mr. Craven asking how she’s doing, if the guy is happy with her, that kind of thing,” Kayleigh said.

“Listen, she’s not doing anything she wasn’t doing before,” Gwen said. “She’s just doing it for someone else now. Something tells me if she can negotiate her release from whatever is making her have to stay, she will show up here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she does show up one day.”

“I suppose so,” Kayleigh said.

It had grown dark outside. The two women eyed the night with suspicion and a dose of fear.

Then Kayleigh turned to Gwen. “I’m alone tonight. What about you?”

“Yeah,” Gwen admitted, hoping this was going where she thought it might. “Nobody in my plans,” she said before adding, “yet.”

“You wanna spend the night?” Kayleigh asked. “Cheryl and Jenna are at Marie’s slumber party.”

“Yeah, I took Carmen by Marie’s before going home to my nightmare. I’d like to stay if you don’t mind. I’m afraid if I go home, I won’t get a wink of sleep worrying about him coming back. At least here, if I stay the night, there will be a better reason not to sleep.”

“Right. We can have our own slumber party,” Kayleigh said. “But I am jealous of my girls. They’re with four other girls ranging in age from twenty to ten.”

“I wonder what they’re doing right now?” Gwen said, gently pulling Kayleigh into her arms.

“Right now?” Kayleigh said, smiling at Gwen and noticing the sexy pout her lips naturally had. “Probably coming.”

“Maybe we should catch up,” Gwen said, and kissed Kayleigh, plunging her tongue into the porn star’s mouth.

Kayleigh moaned with need, and the two worked their way to Kayleigh’s bedroom, scattering clothes along the way. When they finally arrived at the side of the bed, they were naked.

And very horny.

“Something just occurred to me,” Gwen said.

“What?”

“Facing death can put you in serious need of orgasms.”

“That’s true. So… let me give you a few,” Kayleigh said, pulling Gwen on top of her as they tumbled onto the large bed.

The two women made love to each other until they finally fell asleep, exhausted.

*******

The slumber party had been an enormous success, if you counted success by the number of orgasms we had. It occurred to me that Jenna may have actually achieved the dozen climaxes she had hoped for.

When we pulled into the driveway, Sara said, “Wow! I’ve driven by here before lots of times and wondered who owned it.”

Moments later, Jenna and I had said our good-byes and entered the house. I had to use my house key to get in, which was unusual because Mom’s car was there, so I knew she was home.

“Mom?” I called as we entered the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” came the reply and Jenna and I went there.

“Why was the door locked?” I asked. “You usually have it unlocked when you’re home.”

Mom looked at me and I knew something serious had happened. First, she went to the front door and locked it again. Then she sat Jenna and me down and told us about what had happened to Gwen the evening before. Jenna was beyond thrilled to find out her mother was alive, but we were sad that she was basically being held against her will. However, the idea that someone could decide to come after us or hurt Mom scared us.

“Can’t we get the cops involved?” I asked.

“No, baby. If we do, some really bad things could happen not only to Cindy but us as well.”

Mom had mentioned the picture on the video, which she still had, so I asked if we could see it.

“Yes. I asked Gwen if I could keep it until this afternoon so I could show you two. That way you’ll know never to answer the door if he comes here,” Mom said, and we went to the den to look at the guy’s picture.

When Mom brought it up, she said, “That’s Mr. Craven. Actually, I still work for him because he owns the production company–” Her sentence ended there because that was when Jenna screamed.

“That’s him!” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the TV screen.

“Who?” Mom asked, but I already suspected who she meant.

“The man!” Jenna yelled, and ran from the room, crying and shouting, “The man who raped me!” as she left.

Continue on to Chapter 40

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 5

  • Posted on July 22, 2016 at 1:39 pm

By Jeneee

As Sharon and I slid our bodies into the bubbling hot water after carefully placing the drinks we brought with us onto the deck beside the hot tub, my girlfriend let out a contented sigh of satisfaction. I settled myself down beside her and smiled across at our two sweet young companions asking, “So girls, does it get any better than this?”

Pam giggled and replied that it felt even better than before, now that we were all there together…

“…naked,” Emily finished for her, laughing. She flung her arm around Pam’s shoulder and pulled her closer, whispering something in her ear at which Pam giggled again.

“Hey, no secrets, no fair,” Sharon laughed.

“I was just asking her if she wanted to try jetting again. It’s even better without panties on,” Emily told her, as she started to squirm around a bit. And how would she know that? I wondered. “There, found one,” she announced with glee. “Woo-hoo, it feels sooo… mmmm!”

She giggled at Pam and whispered in her ear again. We watched as her new friend moved slightly to her left, giving a little jerk as contact was obviously made.

“See? Told you, didn’t I,” Emily said, watching Pam closely. “Makes my cunny tingle,” she added with a saucy grin on her face.

“Emily!” I scolded.

“Well, you do it, Mommy. I’ve seen you, and so does Sharon, so why can’t we?” There was no argument from us there as Sharon looked at me and smirked. Pam had elbowed Emily again, but only halfheartedly this time, as she was starting to get used to her new friend’s boldness.

“Are you sure you still want to be Emily’s friend, Pam?” I asked her laughing, knowing that there was no way my daughter was going to restrain her outspoken, precocious self, at least while in our company.

Pam smiled across at me and nodded her head, then quickly squirmed herself around to move beside me saying, “Yes, I’m sure, and I want to be your friend too, Jen, and Sharon’s,” she added. And she kissed my cheek. The touch of her soft body, along with Sharon’s on the other side of me, aroused a feeling quite similar to that which I had experienced in the shower earlier in the afternoon. In other words, my pussy was on fire again.

“Hey, what about me?” Emily pouted. “I feel lonely over here all by myself.”

“Aww, you poor little girl,” Sharon teased, and she slid over to hug her as Emily stuck out her tongue at us.

“Hey, Mommy,” Emily announced with glee. “We’ve traded girlfriends!” And she gave Sharon a big kiss on her lips as if to emphasize the point.

“Wow, hot stuff, Sharon,” she giggled. “I want some more of that.”

What a little hussy my little girl was turning out to be. And there’s that bonding again, I thought to myself, watching my cute daughter snuggle alongside my beautiful girlfriend. And I realized once more just how really beautiful Sharon was. Her long dark hair and big brown eyes set wide apart on her heart-shaped face gave her a completely exotic look. And her body was gorgeous too. She was taller than me, with long, slim legs, shapely hips and a firm, tight butt. Her boobs were as small as mine, but firm, with large dark brown nipples proudly crowning each mound.

And she’s all mine, I thought contentedly — well, until now at least, I added, giggling to myself as I watched her with an arm around my sweet little girl.

Sharon noticed me watching them and looked across at me and Pam, winking. “Well you two sure make a cute couple,” she laughed, glancing from me to Pam. I looked down to see Pam smiling back at Sharon and hugged her to me again. She was such an adorable little girl.

“I am so glad Emily met you today, sweetie,” I told her. I think you two are going to be really good for each other.”

“I think you are all good for me,” she whispered. “You make me feel like I belong to someone again. I miss my parents and my sister, and I don’t think what they did was wrong, but…” and she stopped suddenly, biting her lip.

“What, hon?” I asked, but quickly added, not wanting another tearful scene, “It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it, really. I didn’t realize you had a sister, though. How old is she and who is looking after her?”

“She ran away from home after, you know, after everything happened. She’s only fourteen, but she said that there was no way they were going to ever put her into a foster home. She promised to come back for me as soon as she could. But I don’t know where she went and neither does my aunt.” She hesitated again. “Is it okay if we talk about it later, Jen? I don’t want to spoil the mood now,” she added, and reached up to kiss me like Emily had done to Pam, on my lips. My poor heart fluttered at the gentleness of her touch.

“It’s okay sweetie, I understand,” I managed, stroking her hair. “Of course we don’t have to talk about it now.” And I promptly returned her little kiss after which she smiled, and then gave a big sigh.

“What, hon?” I prompted.

“You make me so happy, Jen. I wish I could stay here with you all.” She paused a moment before saying, “Can I ask you something, like, kinda personal?”

I nodded.

“How long have you known you were a lesbian?”

“Well, I’m not sure I am altogether, sweetie. I was married, you know. I’m probably what you would call bi. I like both sexes, but I must admit that right now I prefer women, and you are convincing me of that even more,” I laughed, tweaking her chin. She smiled, as if to say she was so happy to hear that.

“I just wondered, ‘cause I think I am one — a lesbian — just like my aunt. Well, not like my aunt really, ‘cause she’s a bitch most of the time. Oops, sorry. Didn’t mean to swear,” she added, quickly.

I laughed, hugging her tightly once more. “I think you are too young to know what you are right now, sweetie,” I explained, “but there’s nothing wrong with feeling that way, if that’s the way it turns out for you.”

She squeezed against me again. I was unconsciously stroking the soft, smooth skin of her inner thigh as I tried to think of what else to tell her when she looked up at me and half whispered, “That feels so good, Jen.”

“What’s that, sweetheart?”

“What you’re doing, like, you know, to my leg. It makes me feel all tingly inside.” I felt her open her thighs a little wider to encourage me to continue. “Don’t stop,” she pleaded softly, as I momentarily paused, realizing what was happening here. Glancing over at Sharon, I was even more surprised to see her kissing Emily again, this time seemingly in earnest.

Wow, this is getting interesting, I thought. Moments ago they had been giggling away over there at some kind of joke or other, but that had quickly changed. I was even more astounded when I noticed Emily’s hand cupping one of Sharon’s breasts as they kissed.

Adding to my arousal, I suddenly I felt Pam gently stroking my thigh, and then I knew there was no stopping what was inevitably developing here. Throwing caution to the wind, I slid my hand further up along her thigh until it eventually reached that glorious juncture I had stared at hours before — her soft puffy mound, and she hissed fiercely into my shoulder “Yessss, oh yesssss,” and hunched her pussy against me as hard as she could.

I slowly stroked her soft lips, feeling the slippery moisture of her arousal increase as I parted them gently. Her head was now buried into my shoulder and little whimpers escaped her lips as she squirmed against me when I rubbed my fingertips softly over her hard little button.

“Oooh, it’s been sooo long,” I heard her moan, “…so long,” and I knew immediately that she was experienced. Visions of Pam and her sister together filled my mind, but I would learn more about that later. Right now all I wanted to do was to caress this little girl until she reached whatever pinnacle an eight-year-old is capable of feeling. At the same time my own pussy was hungry for attention, and the fingers of my other hand quickly slid down between my thighs to help satisfy my own urgings.

We became oblivious to everything else around us as we blended our ecstasy together. I was twenty years older than Pam but at that moment we were the same, lovers experiencing the ultimate joy as one. All of a sudden her hand clenched tightly on my thigh, and I knew my little adorable sweetheart had climaxed as a squeal escaped her lips and she appeared to stop breathing momentarily. This spurred me immediately on to mine, and we were soon clinging together, trying to catch our breath, smiles pasted on our faces, suddenly aware of being watched from the other side of the hot tub.

“Mommy? Are you okay?” Emily asked cautiously.

“Mommy’s fine,” I replied. “More than fine.” I smiled, almost adding that I was just testing out her new girlfriend for her, but buttoning my lip in time, realizing that it would sound a bit crass, and besides, it wasn’t really the truth. What had happened, happened. And it was a delightful, sensual and beautiful experience, one I would not be ashamed to repeat.

“You two were kind of, well, going at it hot and heavy over there,” chimed in Sharon.

“Well, you can talk,” I laughed. “Last thing I saw was you and Emily necking away with her hand squeezing your boob. Then I kinda lost track.”

“Well, we couldn’t help stopping to watch you two when we came up for air and realized what you were up to,” Sharon added. “I should be sooo jealous, but I’m not. Instead, I’m feeling quite aroused,” she confessed.

Emily giggled and asked her, “Really? Then maybe we should continue where we left off,” and grabbed for her boob again. Sharon seemed like she wasn’t about to argue the point.

“Hey, that’s mine,” I laughed, standing up in the hot tub and moving over to Sharon and Emily, giving them both a big hug.

Pam followed me and squeezed in with us, kissing Emily on her lips. “Hope you’re not mad at me,” she teased, “but your mom was so hard to resist once she got started.”

“So we noticed,” Emily giggled, slyly sliding her hand down between Pam’s thighs to her pussy. “Now, am I going to be hard to resist too?” she wanted to know.

“Mmmm, not if you keep that up,” Pam sighed, closing her eyes as she rested her head on Emily’s shoulder.

Sharon and I watched as our two young lovers suddenly forgot about us, lost in their own version of paradise. Our hot tub had now had a second christening of the type we could never have imagined the first time Sharon and I made love amid its bubbling warmth.

And now this evening was the beginning of a whole new kind of relationship for my little girl. She would learn quickly, I now knew, about the delights awaiting her with another member of her own sex, one who’d had experiences she was only too willing to share with her new girlfriend.

I found myself hoping her aunt would let her stay the night.

Continue on to Chapter 6

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 6

  • Posted on July 22, 2016 at 1:38 pm

By Jeneee

It was now much later in the evening. The sun had set, the hot tub was empty of its hot bodies, jets now silent, cover on for the night — and the party had moved indoors once again to the living room. Soft fluffy towels were draped around two very tired but contented little girls cuddled side by side on the loveseat, as Sharon and I sat together on the couch, sipping wine from yet another bottle of Merlot, glowing in the aftermath of what had been an extraordinary experience with our two young lovers.

In fact, we all had reason to glow. Another telephone call to Pam’s aunt had met no resistance to the suggestion that Pam stay the night with us. In fact her aunt almost sounded relieved that her niece would be out of her hair, leaving her able to indulge in whatever it was she indulged herself when free of her young charge. We assured her she was in good, safe hands — And yes, you can take that both ways, I thought to myself with a giggle as we hung up the phone. Needless to say, Pam was delighted, and the smile on Emily’s face at the news was priceless.

“You can sleep with me in my bed,” she announced to Pam, with a wicked little grin on her cherubic face.

“Well, at least it’s Friday night and you don’t have school tomorrow,” I noted. “Somehow I don’t think you two will be getting much sleep,” I added, laughing. Emily giggled, but Pam yawned.

“Oh, I think we’ll get some sleep, Jen. I’m tired from all the exercise we’ve had today,” grinned Pam. “I’m so happy my aunt let me stay the night.” And she leaned back on Emily’s shoulder, sighing contentedly

“Me too,” giggled Emily. “I can lend you a nightie if you like. Or we can always sleep naked,” she added, with that glint in her eye again, as she snaked her hand underneath Pam’s towel, exploring her soft body once more. My daughter the she-devil, at it again, I thought. She sure takes after her mom.

“Better wear nighties,” Pam said, “in case we have to get up and go pee during the night,” she suggested to Emily. That girl thinks ahead, I thought to myself. I was liking her even more.

“Come on upstairs with me, hon,” I told her as I stood up. “I’ll find one of Emily’s nighties for you.”

And she separated herself from my daughter and followed me out of the room like a little puppy dog. Actually I had an ulterior motive in splitting her from Emily for a moment. We hadn’t had a chance to talk privately since our little session together in the hot tub and I wanted to find out more about her background. She stood next to me, hugging the towel around her, as I searched through Emily’s drawer for some cute PJs for her to wear.

“You seemed to know what you were doing with me — and with Emily — in the hot tub this evening, sweetie,” I remarked. “This wasn’t the first time for you, was it?”

She shuffled her feet slightly as I waited for an answer, another blush creeping over her sweet face. “Not really,” she replied, now looking directly into my eyes. “Are you mad at me, Jen?”

I smiled and hugged her to me as I answered. “No hon, not at all. But I am curious about how you got your experience, as well as what happened to you to cause you to have to stay with your aunt — of whom you seem not to be too fond, I might add. Like I told you before, you don’t have to explain, Pam, but you can understand my curiosity, can’t you?”

She looked down at the floor, hesitantly.

“I’m guessing you and your sister used to, well, play around together. Is that right?” I prompted.

And as Jen’s tears flowed once more I felt like a bit of a heel putting her into this position again, but at the same time, as I told her as I tried to comfort her, she might feel a lot better talking about it. I held her tightly as the sobs slowly died away, and tilted her head up to me, softly wiping her eyes with the corner of her towel, which by now had parted slightly, revealing her beautiful little body to my eager eyes again.

I crouched down and stroked her hair, looking into those moist baby blues of hers while she decided what she was going to tell me.

“I miss my sister so much, Jen,” she blurted out. “She taught me a lot and sort of looked after me when my parents were busy with, you know, with their business.”

“What kind of business was it?” I gently probed.

“Well, they ran a sort of club, you know, where adults could come to have fun and stuff.”

I waited, not pushing her.

She continued. “They had dancers and drinking and stuff like that, and…” she paused again.

“You mean like a night club?” I prompted.

She nodded. “But it was more than that,” she continued. “People did, you know, like, they had sex there too.” She looked at me to see how shocked I might be.

“Is that why your mom and dad were arrested?” I asked.

“Yeah, but, not only that.” And she hugged me again, tearing up once more. “They started having Becky dance there too. You know? My sister.”

That’s when it dawned on me, and I was shocked for the moment, but quickly tried to hide it from Pam.

“Was Becky all right with that, sweetie?” I asked. Was she forced to do that?”

“Oh no, she loved it, everyone cheering her on the way they did when she, you know, took off her clothes.” I held my breath, waiting.

As if sensing my thoughts Pam quickly added, “And no, she never had sex there with anyone, just danced. She only had sex with me. And she’s the one who taught me everything I know.”

I breathed a sigh of relief at that, at least. “How did she start with you, sweetie?” I wanted to know.

Once more she hesitated. “Well, after she finished dancing she always came back to our little room in the back of the club to sleep, while the parties kept going on. It didn’t close until very late so we had a bed in the back.”

“You mean you were at the club too?” I asked, in disbelief, this time not successful at hiding my shock.

She started to cry again. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” she stammered between sobs. “Now you’ll hate me. It wasn’t like I wanted to be there but my mom and dad didn’t want to leave me all night with a babysitter, so they took me with them. The noise usually didn’t bother me so I was able to sleep. Until Becky came back, that is.”

“Aww, hon. I don’t hate you at all. It wasn’t your fault, sweetheart. But now I understand why you miss your sister so much, and also why she took off the way she did. She was right, they would have put her in a home, and I’m so sorry this had to happen to you.” And I held our sweet new friend closely to me, giving her time to recover once more.

Pam eventually settled down but still clung tightly to me. “Thanks for understanding, Jen. I feel so comfortable here with you, and Emily and Sharon. My aunt didn’t think much of what my parents were doing, especially getting Becky involved that way. My sister told me that one day they were going to get me to dance too and I was a bit afraid of that — whether I’d be any good, I mean. She told me not to worry because I was so cute and everyone would love me.

“She used to cuddle with me in our bed and try to comfort me, and it made me feel so good. Then one night she, well, you know, started explaining all about my body and showing me things, and showing me hers and how I would look when I got older. Before long she was playing with me down there, and it felt so good that I began to look forward to her coming to bed after her show every night.

“Since she has been gone I really miss all that and until tonight, when you played with me, I haven’t felt so good in a long time. And then when Emily started with me, it was like heaven again,” she giggled, seemingly recovering from her previous upset state.

“I think Emily adores you sweetie,” I assured her. “Even if you decide to tell her what you’ve just told me, I’m sure it won’t make one bit of difference to her.”

She smiled at me, then kissed me softly on the lips again. “Thanks Jen, I adore all of you too, and I’m so glad you don’t think badly of me.”

I slid my hands around behind her and cupped her cute little butt cheeks as I returned her kiss. She was so deliciously firm and soft in my hands and I pulled her tightly to me wanting to explore further but resisting the temptation knowing that it was getting late and that Sharon and Emily would be wondering why it was taking so long to find her a nightie. With an enormous amount of will power I reluctantly pulled away, whispering that we had better get back downstairs.

Standing up, I took her hand in mine as she wrapped the towel around her again, grabbed the nightie in my other hand and led her downstairs once more to join Emily and Sharon whom we found curled up together on the couch, Emily apparently asleep on Sharon’s shoulder.

My girlfriend looked at me questioningly, obviously wondering why it had taken us so long to find some PJs for Pam, but not wanting to move in case she disturbed Emily. I gave her my ‘tell you later’ glance and she nodded.

Pam smiled when she saw her new friend and whispered, “I told you we’d sleep tonight, didn’t I, Jen? Emily is as tired as I am.”

She then looked at both of us, dropped her towel onto the floor with a mischievous grin on her face and seemed to take her own sweet time pulling the nightie over her head to cover herself. Hmm, a little show for our benefit? I mused to myself as the hem finally slid down to cover her sweet and prominently puffy pussy from our view. Somehow, I thought we’d be seeing much more of her charms in the not-too-distant future.

Sharon gently lifted the sleeping Emily into her arms and the four of us slowly and quietly climbed the stairs once more, Pam still clinging to my hand. As we tucked the girls into Emily’s bed, Pam snuggled closely to her new friend who hadn’t awakened, and, sliding an arm around her, smiled at us before closing her eyes to what would undoubtedly be the sweetest of dreams.

I turned off the light on the table beside their bed, slipped my arm around Sharon’s waist and led her to our room, preparing to fill her in on all the latest news I had learned from Emily’s, and our, new girlfriend. An eventful day in our lives was finally winding down, promising an even more exciting weekend to follow.

Continue on to Chapter 7

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 7

  • Posted on July 22, 2016 at 1:38 pm

By Jeneee

As I related what I knew about Pam’s background to Sharon she became more and more surprised, but now understood why the little girl had reacted the way she had at various times during the evening.

“I really scolded Emily for pulling up Pam’s dress the way she did, but now that I think about it Pam must have been more worried about how we would react to her not having any panties on, rather than being embarrassed about us seeing her pussy,” Sharon decided. “I guess she was afraid we’d never invite her back, even though we knew she was naked underneath.”

“Well, whatever you said to Emily sure had the right effect, anyway,” I laughed. “She seemed quite sorry for what she did, but I was still surprised at the way the girls made up. That was so intense, the way they kissed each other like that. And,” I added in a teasing voice, “that was quite a session you and Emily had in the hot tub, girlfriend of mine,” I giggled.

“Mmm, yes,” Sharon murmured as she slowly caressed one of my boobs, gently squeezing the hardening nipple. “Your little girl is becoming quite a sexual young lady for her age, and I must admit she arouses feelings in me that must have been hidden deep inside for a long time. I was a little apprehensive about how you would react at first until I saw the way you and Pam were going at it,” she smirked. “But now that I know a bit of her history, it makes much more sense.”

“I think we both learned something new about each other tonight,” I whispered in her ear, sliding my hand across her firm tummy down to her pussy, finding it already soaked. “Mmm, and I don’t think it’s at all bad, do you?” I added.

As a way of answering she spread her legs wider to allow me to continue and kissed me deeply on the lips.

Later we fell contentedly asleep in each other’s arms following a really intense session of love making inspired by the new understanding we had developed. We had each other, and we now had our new little lovers. What could be more perfect than that?

Morning came quickly and our sleep was shattered by squeals of joy as two young girls bounced together on our bed imploring us to “Wake up, wake up, you two! It’s time to start the weekend.” Pam positioned herself spreadeagled over my chest while Emily crawled all over Sharon who was moaning, still half asleep, that it was too early to get up.

“So, what were you two doing last night in bed that makes you so tired this morning?” Emily teased.

Sharon opened one eye squinting at her and replied “None of your business, young lady.”

Emily giggled, looking over to me for an answer, as if she didn’t already know. I just winked at her and asked her how she and Pam had slept.

“Real good, Mom,” she said, “but I don’t even remember coming up to bed. I woke up with Pam snuggled up beside me and thought I must be dreaming. Then it all came back to me.”

“You fell asleep on Sharon’s shoulder when I brought Pam up to find a nightie for her, so Sharon finally had to carry you up to bed. You didn’t even wake up when we tucked Pam in beside you. You must have been tired from our little party last night,” I teased.

She leaned down and kissed Sharon on the lips saying, “Thanks for bringing me up to bed, Sharon. I hope I wasn’t too heavy for you.”

By now, Sharon had given up trying to go back to sleep and simply sighed, “No, sweetie, you are as light as a feather.” Emily giggled and bounced up and down on her chest. “Ugh, but now you feel like a really heavy feather,” Sharon complained. “And if you keep bouncing like that, you’re going to have a nasty effect on my bladder.”

“Going to pee in your panties, are you?” Emily teased, squirming again.

“No, I’m not wearing any panties to pee in,” she laughed in reply, “and I don’t want to wet the sheets, so stop wriggling around like that, you little vixen.”

“I gotta go pee too,” Pam announced as she jumped off the bed. “Beat you to the bathroom.” And off she flew. Emily was not far behind, leaving Sharon and I together in peace once again.

“Welcome to the weekend, baby,” I smiled. “Looks like we’re going to have our hands full today.”

We both slowly crawled out of bed, Sharon traipsing downstairs to the other bathroom to pee, not bothering to throw on a robe. As I sat on the edge of the bed rubbing my eyes, I thought about all that had happened yesterday and what was in store for us today. I knew we had to take Pam home soon, and wondered what kind of reception we would receive from her aunt.

I also wondered what her aunt knew about her niece’s sexual experiences with her sister, if anything. I needed to find out a little bit more from Pam before encountering her aunt, and decided I’d probe further as I drove her home. But before that, I had to think about breakfast. Throwing on a robe, I left the bedroom to go downstairs to put on the coffee.

As I passed the bathroom, I heard the shower running and squeals of laughter coming from our two young lovers as they undoubtedly washed each other’s backs, and probably much more. The smile was still on my face as I reached the kitchen in time to see Sharon exiting the bathroom.

“Make it in time?” I teased, as I plugged in the coffee maker.

“Only just,” she replied. “So, what are you smiling at now?”

“Just picturing the girls in the shower with each other, that’s all.”

My naked girlfriend laughed. “Hmm, wonder what they’re up to?” she mused. “Maybe I’ll go peek,” she added with a sneaky glint in her eye.

“Well, you’re certainly dressed for it,” I teased, giving her shapely naked body the once-over.

Sticking out her tongue, she swung her hips sensually, looking over her shoulder at me as she left the kitchen. It was all I could do not to follow, but duty called. There was breakfast to prepare.

Meanwhile, up in the shower the girls were still giggling as they squirted soap at one another, rubbing it all over their smooth young bodies. “Last night I saw my mom playing with your pussy when you were kissing each other in the hot tub,” Emily told Pam. “What did it feel like?”

“It felt great, just like this will,” Pam replied, sliding a soapy hand down over Emily’s mound and slipping a finger between her lips. Emily sighed and leaned back against the shower wall as she enjoyed the feeling her new friend was generating between her legs.

“Doesn’t that feel good?” she asked as Emily tried to thrust her pussy harder onto Pam’s hand, spreading her legs in the process and almost falling down.

Emily mmm’d in response and then added, “We should try this in bed sometime. I’m having trouble standing up, it feels so good. This must be what Mom and Sharon do in bed too.”

Pam smiled. “Yes, and a lot more too, I bet.”

“How do you know so much?” Emily asked.

“My sister. She taught me a lot when we were living with Mom and Dad.”

“And all this time I thought you were so shy, you little sneak,” Emily teased as she reached down to grab Pam’s pussy. “Wow Pam, your pussy is so much more, well, fleshy than mine. It’s so puffy.” And she squeezed Pam’s lips in her hand, causing them to pout way out from her body.

Pam moaned at Emily’s touch and said, “Yeah, that’s why you can see so much of me when I’m wearing panties, or even shorts. And that’s why I wear dresses or skirts so often. I used to get teased at school otherwise, but I learned fast.”

“And just what are you two up to?” came Sharon’s voice as she pulled aside the shower curtain catching the girls feeling each other’s pussies.

“You snuck up on us! No fair,” shrieked Emily. “And you’re naked too, woo-hoo!” she added with glee. “You gonna come in and join us! Look at her boobies, Pam. Aren’t they huge?”

Sharon laughed as she stepped into the shower between the girls.

“Now it’s really crowded in here,” giggled Pam, squirting some liquid soap over Sharon’s boobs. Emily immediately started to rub the suds all over Sharon as Pam squealed in delight, squirting the bottle again, this time over Sharon’s tummy.

“My turn,” she announced, putting the bottle down on the shelf. And she started rubbing the soapy bubbles over Sharon’s mid-section and then slyly down over her mound, eventually reaching in between her legs. “Got to get this clean,” she giggled, sliding her fingers between Sharon’s lips. “Have to wash all the leftover pee from it.”

Sharon was in heaven from all the attention the two young girls were paying her, and knew she would lose control very shortly from what was now Pam’s exquisite exploration of her pussy.

“Oh god, Pam, what are you doing? Ohhhh.”

Emily was watching Sharon’s face closely as she continued to soap her mom’s girlfriend’s boobs. Her nipples had grown so hard between her fingers and she knew Pam must be doing something to Sharon’s pussy that she just had to learn more about.

Suddenly Sharon threw her head back against the shower wall and let out a moan as she grabbed at Pam’s hands, holding them tightly against her pussy, not moving anymore.

Slowly Sharon recovered from her orgasm and gazed down at Pam, still breathing heavily. “Oh, Pam,” she managed. “Where did you learn to do that? It was so… incredible.”

“My sister taught me,” Pam replied, looking up at Sharon’s flushed face.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet her,” was all Sharon could manage to say. “Come on girls,” she finally added. “We have to finish up in here and dry off. Your mom’s probably got breakfast ready for us by now, Emily.”

Everyone rinsed quickly and Sharon turned off the water, grabbed some fluffy bath towels and proceeded to help the girls dry off. Then, bundling more towels over their damp hair, they all grabbed robes from the bedroom and trooped downstairs to sample the delicious food Jen had laid out for them all.

Continue on to Chapter 8

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 8

  • Posted on July 22, 2016 at 1:37 pm

By Jeneee

The breakfast table looked like something from an ad for an exotic spa with four robed females, three with towels wrapped around their heads, busy munching away on fruit, scrambled eggs and whole-wheat toast. Pitchers of orange juice and mugs of coffee completed the picture, and soon all four were fully charged and ready to attack the weekend, and whatever delights it had to offer, with gusto.

“We have to get you home, Pam,” I reminded her. “It’s time for me to go meet your aunt and explain your absence, and see if you might be able to spend some more time with us this weekend — that is, if you want to,” I added.

Pam nodded her head briskly, a big smile on her face, as Emily chanted, “Yes, yes, yes, of course she wants to!”

“And if she’s okay with it — and from what you already said about her, I imagine she won’t mind — you’ll need to get some clean clothes to wear. You can’t keep wearing that pretty dress every day. You’ll also need more undies and a toothbrush as well. I’ll drive you home after I have my shower. Emily and Sharon, you two can clean up the breakfast dishes and straighten up the house while we’re gone… please? ” I entreated.

“Sure Mom, just bring her back, okay?” Emily replied, hugging Pam and kissing her cheek. “I kinda like having her around to play with,” she giggled.

“Oh yeah, and don’t forget to do your homework, Emily,” I reminded her.

She scowled and stuck her tongue out at me as she glanced at Pam. “We don’t have any this weekend, do we, Pam?” she asked with a mischievous wink.

I laughed. “Don’t try to con Pam into lying for you, you little troublemaker. Now I’m going upstairs for my shower, so get busy, everyone.”

Sharon saluted me. “Yes, ma’am!” she answered, trying not to smirk. I winked at her, turned, and climbed upstairs to the bathroom once more. “Okay girls, you heard her. Help me clear off the table and get these dishes done,” Sharon told Emily and Pam as she rose from her seat. “On second thought, Pam, you’d better go up to Emily’s room and get dressed, so that you’re ready to leave when Jen has finished her shower.”

“I’ll go help her,” Emily said, scraping her chair back.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sharon replied quickly. “Pam is old enough to dress herself and fix her hair without you,” she laughed. “Besides, I know just what kind of help you’d give her, you little vixen,” she added with a smirk. “Dishes!” Sharon commanded again to Emily, pointing at the sink. “Now off you go, Pam. Better get ready to look nice for your aunt.”

So Pam sighed reluctantly and made her way up to Emily’s room again. Standing in front of the mirror she unwound the towel from her head and let her now almost dry hair fall back down over her shoulders. Untying the belt of her robe and shrugging it off onto the floor, she reached for a brush on Emily’s dresser and started gently untangling the knots in her hair until it was once again smooth and shiny.

By then, I had finished my shower and was passing Emily’s room when I noticed Pam in front of the mirror brushing her hair, her robe lying on the floor beside her.

“Oh, here you are, sweetie. I was just going downstairs to ask you to get ready while I finished dressing, but I see you beat me to it. Your hair looks so shiny and, mmmm, smells so good,” I added, walking up behind her. I took the brush from her hand and added a few strokes of my own, marveling at the reflection of her beautiful young body in the mirror.

“Thanks, Jen,” she whispered, turning toward me, taking the brush out of my hand and placing it back on the dresser. She hugged me to her naked body and looked up at me with her shiny blue eyes.

Kissing her softly on her forehead, I assured her it was my pleasure. “Now, we’d better get you dressed and home, young lady,” I smiled. “Time for me to go meet your aunt.”

She nodded and picked up the robe from the floor, grabbing her panties and socks from beside the dresser, and sat down on the bed. “Are you just gonna stand there and watch?” she giggled. “Don’t you think you should get dressed too?”

“Right,” I replied, tearing my eyes away from her gorgeous little body, somewhat embarrassed. “See you downstairs.”

I quickly returned to my room and combed out my own hair, pulled on clean panties and shorts, and slid my arms into one of my favorite cropped shirts, tying it under my breasts. Staring at my reflection in the mirror I decided to add a touch of lipstick and mascara, and then, satisfied, made my way downstairs again.

“My, don’t we look sharp,” Sharon smiled as I came into the kitchen, finding her and Emily busy cleaning up. Pam was sitting at the table in her cute white flowered dress, watching the others.

“Thanks, girlfriend,” I replied, walking over to her and giving her a hug. “Got an aunt to impress,” I added with a wink.

“Well, just don’t impress her too much,” she giggled. “I’m the jealous type, you know.”

“Mom, hurry back, okay?” piped up my daughter as I patted her butt and thanked her for helping Sharon clean up. “And make sure you bring Pam back with you, too,” she ordered.

“Well, we’ll see what her aunt has to say,” I told her. Turning to Pam I said, “Okay, let’s go, sweetie. We have a little trip to make.”

Pam walked over to Emily and gave her a kiss, telling her not to worry. If she knew her aunt, she’d be back soon to stay for the weekend, she assured her.

Pam and I then left my girlfriend and my daughter to finish the clean up and we walked together out the front door to climb into my slightly aging and dilapidated red car.

It didn’t take Sharon and Emily long to get the kitchen back into shape, after which they both went upstairs to get dressed. “Think she’ll come back with Mom?” Emily asked, hopefully.

“Sounds like you really want her to,” Sharon smiled. “I think it’s cute that you have a new girlfriend, but you have to be prepared to accept what her aunt decides.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emily replied. “But I really like her, an’ I know we can be great friends, Sharon. Like, well, like you and Mom are, you know?” she added, throwing her arms around Sharon’s waist and hugging her.

Sharon looked down fondly at Emily and unwrapped the towel from her hair whispering that they had better hurry and get dressed. Emily pulled away a bit, giggled, and untied the belt around Sharon’s robe.

“Okay, I’ll help you first,” she teased, as Sharon’s boobs flashed before her eyes. Reaching up and cupping them both with her hands she added, “I love these. Do you think mine will grow to be like yours?”

Sharon’s breath tightened a little at the young girl’s soft touch on her breasts, her nipples hardening in response. “Maybe more like your mom’s than mine, I think,” she whispered, squeezing Emily’s hands but not removing them.

“Does it feel good when I touch you? Like when Mom does this?” Emily wanted to know.

“Yes, sweetheart, it feels great.”

“Can I ask you something, Sharon? Like in the shower this morning, when Pam was washing your… your pussy? What was she doing that made you so… well, so excited? Can you show me? Pulease?”

Sharon could feel her pussy already reacting to Emily’s touch on her boobs, and now he thought of what Pam had done in the shower earlier was causing her juices to flow even more. After a few seconds of debate she motioned the young girl over to the bed and sat down, spreading her legs wide, asking Emily to kneel in front of her. Emily stared intently at the older woman’s pussy, noting the now shiny labia parting slightly.

“You look so wet, Sharon,” she giggled. “Am I making you horny?”

By way of an answer Sharon reached down with her hands and spread her lips even wider. “Slide two of your fingers inside me,” she told Emily.

Emily did as she was asked. “Oh, it’s so warm and slippery in there!” she cried.

Sharon moaned as the little girl’s fingers explored further. “Now take your thumb and rub it gently over my clit. It should be poking out at you. See it?”

Emily did, and she rolled her thumb from side to side over the hard nubbin, causing Sharon to jerk slightly.

“Did I hurt you?” Emily asked, stopping what she was doing.

“N…no sweetie. It’s sensitive, but it feels so good when you do that.”

“Is that what Pam was doing to you?”

“Sort of. Now press harder with your two fingers inside me, like up toward the front of my pussy, and continue rubbing my clit like you were doing with your thumb. That’s what Pam was doing. Only she has done it a lot before, and she had just the right touch to make me feel so excited that I had an orgasm real fast.”

“Is that what you and Mom do too?” Emily asked, fascinated, as she watched Sharon’s face closely to see if she was doing it right.

“Yessss, sometimes, and a lot more too,” she replied, lifting her butt from the bed to help Emily’s fingers hit the right spots. “Ohh baby, that feels so good,” she encouraged. “Keep doing that, yessss, just like that.”

Emily watched closely as Sharon’s eyes closed and her moaning became more intense. Spurred on by this reaction, Emily increased the pressure of her two fingers on the inside of Sharon’s pussy and flicked her thumb faster back and forth across her clit. Sharon’s breathing intensified as her butt lifted from the bed and she almost screamed out to Emily not to stop.

“Yes, yes, oh yesssss, oh my god, yesssssssss,” she moaned as she came hard, juices flowing from her engorged pussy over Emily’s fingers. Emily didn’t know whether to remove her fingers or not as Sharon’s breathing slowly returned to normal, so she just left them inside her pussy, sliding them around gently in the wet and sticky goo.

Sharon finally opened her eyes and smiled at Emily, grasping her wrist and sliding her fingers slowly out. Emily watched as they reappeared, covered in a white and creamy substance which clung to her fingers in strands. Experimentally, she held her hand to her face and stuck out her tongue, tasting the shiny juices. “Mmm, not bad,” she smiled, and licked some more. “Your pussy tastes kinda… well, nice,” she added, watching for Sharon’s reaction.

“Yeah, that’s what your mom always says, too,” Sharon told her, adding, “and I bet yours does too, you little vixen. Wow, you sure learn fast.”

“And now I can practice on Pam,” Emily giggled. “You said she’d done it a lot. Who taught her what to do?”

“Well, I think you’d better ask her that, not me, young lady. But I’m sure she will tell you.”

“Do all pussies taste as good as yours, Sharon? Like, does Mom’s?”

“Yes, your mom’s does, but I don’t exactly go around sampling lots of pussies, you silly girl.”

Emily plunked herself on the bed beside Sharon and untied her robe. Leaning back she asked, with a wicked gleam in her eye, “Wanna sample mine?”

Sharon couldn’t believe the precociousness of her girlfriend’s daughter, but then again, supposed she should have expected it. Staring at the sweet pussy being offered by Emily she found herself weakening.

Kneeling down between the girl’s legs, she raised them over her shoulders, lifted Emily’s butt off the bed and slowly slid her tongue up and down over her plump lips. Emily sighed at the touch and reached down to the sides of Sharon’s head, holding her tightly as Sharon gently explored the young girl’s labia. Spreading her lips slightly with her thumbs, she was able to slip her tongue inside a little and taste the sweet fragrance of her creamy juices, surprised at the ease with which they now seemed to flow.

Lost in the delight of being licked for the first time, Emily could not keep still and it took all of Sharon’s determination to keep her mouth in contact with the sweet young pussy. Squealing and squeaking with pleasure, Emily’s hands clenched tightly against Sharon’s head, pulling on her hair so much that the older woman jerked occasionally from the pain.

Eventually Emily reached a peak in her excitement and froze against Sharon’s mouth, her breath coming in sharp little jerks. Sharon waited until Emily finally came down from her pinnacle before moving away slightly. The young girl’s eyes were still closed as her breathing slowly returned to normal, her wet pussy swollen and juicy with her excitement.

As Sharon slowly ran her fingertips over Emily’s lips, feeling the slippery softness of her engorged little pussy, Emily uttered a single word, “Wow!”

Sharon smiled and caressed the sides of Emily’s face as she leaned down to kiss her gently on the lips. “Sounds like you enjoyed that,” she teased.

“Wow,” Emily repeated, and hugged Sharon tightly around the neck. “Mmmm,” she added. “I think I’d like to do that again.”

“Well, not right now, you don’t,” Sharon laughed, pulling the young girl to her feet. “Right now, we have to get dressed and get ready for your mom’s return.”

“And Pam’s too, I hope,” added Emily.

“And Pam’s too,” echoed Sharon.

Continue on to Chapter 9

Tucked In

  • Posted on July 21, 2016 at 1:25 pm

By JetBoy

Wearing a long, gossamer-thin turquoise nightdress, Helen entered her niece Julia’s bedroom, turning to close the door behind her. She gazed at the young girl, seated in her bed, reading a Harry Potter book, Helen had forgotten which one. Her pulse throbbed at the sight of Julia’s innocent beauty.

Gently closing the door behind, Helen paused to moisten her lips, fighting to steady her voice before she spoke to the girl. Julia was enthralled by her book, all but unaware of her aunt’s presence. “Hello, precious.”

Julia slowly raised her head, giving her aunt a sweet smile.

The twelve-year-old girl was staying at Helen’s house while her mother, Helen’s older sister Susan, attended a sales convention. Helen was always glad to look after Julia any time she could — especially now that the cute moppet she used to babysit had blossomed into such a luscious preteen.

Julia closed her book, marking the place with her thumb. “Hi, Aunt Helen. Bedtime already?”

Helen nodded and said, “Yes, dear. Time to go to sleep.”

Glancing wistfully down at the thick volume, Julia sighed. “It’s sooooo hard to stop reading. You really wanna know what happens next.” She giggled. “But the whole book’s like that!”

“It’ll still be there for you tomorrow,” Helen said. “Come on now. Let’s get you settled in.”

“Kiss me goodnight first?” Julia asked shyly, and Helen felt her heart flip.

“Of course I will, sweetheart,” she replied. Gently taking the book from Julia and setting it to one side, Helen turned down the covers as Julia drew both knees up to her chin. That accomplished, Helen patted the bed. “Come on, honey, get underneath and I’ll tuck you in.”

Julia stretched out, wriggling her bottom down until her shoulders and head were resting on the pillow. As she moved, Helen caught what might have been a fleeting glimpse of the girl’s vulva through the gauzy pajama bottoms she wore — pink shorts that also left most of Julia’s bare legs on display. This provocative sleepwear had been Helen’s present to Julia, though she got even more pleasure from them than her niece did.

The sight, imagined or not, hit Helen like a blast of raw heat. Could Julia be wearing those without panties? she wondered.

Heart racing, she lifted the sheet and draped it over Julia’s legs, about halfway up her thighs, then sat on the edge of the bed.

“Do you like your new pajamas?” Helen asked.

“I do, lots! They’re very nice. Thank you again for getting them for me,” Julia replied. Peering down at the skimpy bottoms, she added, “I don’t think Mommy would like them, though.”  She pouted briefly, then visibly brightened. “Could I maybe leave my jammies here, Aunt Helen? I could wear them just for you.”

It took everything Helen had to keep from wrapping both arms around the young girl and kissing her full on the mouth. But she managed somehow to restrain herself, murmuring as she brushed a loose lock of hair from Julia’s face, “Why don’t you think your mommy would like your pajamas, sweetheart?”

Julia looked embarrassed, and her long eyelashes batted demurely as she said, “Because they are, well, they’re sort of… sexy.”

“And she doesn’t want you to look sexy?” Helen asked, carefully placing her hand on the bed next to Julia’s thigh.

“No,” Julia said, a sulky tone to her voice. “Mommy always wants me to dress like I’m still a little kid!” She huffed in exasperation. “She says that girls that dress sexy are bad… the sort of girls, she says, who — who touch themselves.” Julia’s hand flew to her mouth, the girl’s eyes going wide as it struck her — what she’d just said.

“Touch themselves?” Helen queried with a raised brow.

Julia couldn’t look Helen in the eye, her cheeks burning as she whispered, “You know, touch themselves… down there.”

“Oh,” said Helen. “Don’t you ever touch yourself that way, sweetheart?”

“No!” blurted the young girl, biting her bottom lip before continuing. “Well… I did once, when I was in the shower.” She looked up at Helen through her long lashes, the perfect picture of innocence as she continued. “I didn’t mean to, Aunt Helen! I was just washing myself and it felt really good there, and, um…”

“And what, sweetheart?” Helen encouraged the young girl, her hand lightly resting on Julia’s silk-covered hip.

“It felt funny and… kinda nice, really. I wanted to keep doing it, but I thought about what Mommy said and I stopped,” Julia mumbled. Suddenly a look of fear stole across her sweet features. “You — you won’t tell her, will you, Aunt Helen?” she pleaded. “I didn’t mean to, but Mommy would be mad anyhow.”

God, Susan has turned into such a moralistic tight-ass, Helen thought. She smiled reassuringly, her hand gliding gently up Julia’s hip as she said, “No, honey, I won’t tell your mother. It’ll be our special secret.”

Once more the lashes batted as Julia said. “I do love you, Aunt Helen. Thank you for being so sweet to me.”

“And I love you, precious,” Helen replied gently. “That’s why I bought you the pajamas, you know. You’re such a pretty little girl… but you’re also growing up, so you ought to know what it’s like to feel sexy, to feel loved.” She leaned closer. “And it’s not wrong to touch yourself, sweetheart, no matter what my sister tells you. I do it all the time.”

Julia looked shocked and stammered. “You… you do?”

“Whenever I can,” Helen said with a conspiratorial wink. “I love making myself feel good — and so should you.”

Julia giggled, a sound like water flowing over stones in a brook. But the laughter stopped, her eyes growing wide as the tips of Helen’s fingers lightly traced a path up her bare thigh and onto the front of her pajama bottoms, brushing along the top of her mound. “Aunt Helen…?” she breathed.

“What, precious?” Helen asked as her hand slipped beneath the waistband of the young girl’s pajamas. To her delight, Julia had chosen to wear them without panties. Her fingers traced small circles in the soft down that adorned her niece’s vulva, drawing a gasp from Julia. “Does this feel good, honey?”

Julia said nothing, just nibbled her lower lip as she gazed wide-eyed at her aunt.

“It’s all right,” Helen assured her. “I won’t tell your mother. Doesn’t it feel nice… being touched like this?”

Barely above a whisper, Julia replied, “Yes…”

Helen smiled, “Is it making you feel funny? Kind of like when you get butterflies in your tummy — only lower down?”

A small, almost imperceptible nod of Julia’s head confirmed this. Helen couldn’t help but notice Julia’s nipples, now clearly outlined through the thin fabric of her top. Her lips barely touching the girl’s ear, she whispered. “Do you feel funny anywhere else, precious?”

With a look of embarrassment Julia confessed, “My… my b-boobies.” She gave her aunt a nervous glance, uncertain about using such a grownup word.

But Aunt Helen only smiled warmly. “How do they feel?”

Julia swallowed and bit her bottom lip before mumbling, “They feel all warm… and tingly.”

“Let me take a look,” Helen purred, slowly pulling on the bow that held the silken top closed with her free hand, watching with rising excitement as the loop shrank and vanished. Without the restraining knot the top slipped open, revealing the supple treasures within.

Helen spread her niece’s top the rest of the way open, exposing a budding breast. “You are so beautiful, child,” she breathed as her hand slid further down inside Julia’s pajamas to caress her sex, her exploring fingers drawing a tiny gasp from the young girl.

Helen watched the rise and fall of the girl’s bare breast, eyes alight in awe as Julia’s nipple began to stiffen, crying out to be touched, kissed, suckled. But the lust-drunk woman knew she had all the time in the world — and as her fingertips gently teased her niece’s now moist labia, she unveiled Julia’s other breast.

“May I show you how to kiss?” Helen asked — and without waiting for an answer she bent forward, lips brushing against Julia’s softly, the tip of her tongue detecting a hint of cherry lip balm.

Julia was frozen in shock. She didn’t try to stop her aunt, but neither did she respond as Helen slipped her tongue between the young girl’s parted lips, penetrating the warmth of her mouth.

At that moment, she wriggled the tip of her index finger into her niece’s vagina.

A moan sounded deep in Julia’s throat, and she began to tentatively respond to Helen’s searching tongue, shyly allowing hers to drift into her aunt’s welcoming mouth.

Surprising herself, the young teen hesitantly returned Helen’s kiss, then gasped in astonished wonder as that probing finger began to work its way in and out of her virginal slit, drawing forth more of the girl’s honey with each stroke.

Helen felt Julia quiver as the first tiny shocks of pleasure rippled through her, and she broke the kiss to look at her niece’s face, the girl’s eyes still wide with surprise.

“You like?” Helen asked with a smile.

Julia closed her eyes, hesitantly nodded.

Emboldened, Helen lightly touched the side of the girl’s breast, the backs of her long crimson nails sliding along the silky smooth skin, circling round and up towards the puckered tip. As she teased a taut nipple with her thumb, Helen allowed her finger to slip even deeper into Julia’s opening.

The young girl’s vagina clenched around the invading digit, Julia’s eyes widening further than ever as a pleasurable shudder overcame her nubile body.

“Do you want me to stop, precious?” Helen asked, a knowing smile on her lips.

Through shallow gasps Julia moaned, “Please don’t, please… Oh, this feels so nice, Aunt Helen.”

Helen licked her lips and, with deliberate slowness, dipped her head to envelop the young girl’s nipple as her finger slipped in and out of Julia’s slit. Teasing the pink bud with her tongue, she rolled the other between thumb and index finger, switching from one breast to the other then back again, leaving hints of red lipstick on her niece’s nipples.

By now Julia was moaning out loud, clutching her aunt’s head to her chest, rocking from side to side as strange new sensations flooded her body, threatening to overpower her with their intensity. Helen felt the soft body of her niece stiffen, the girl’s vagina gripping her finger as her orgasm found its release.

Julia let out a shriek as her whole world changed, made thrilling and new in one explosive moment.

Helen continued to kiss and suckle at her niece’s breasts until she felt the girl’s spasms fade to mere tremors.

Lifting her head, she studied Julia’s perfect face, flushed now and damp with sweat. The young girl’s smile said everything.

“Was that nice, then?” Helen asked gently as she let her finger slip out of Julia’s quivering pussy.

“Oh, Aunt Helen!” Julia all but sobbed with happiness. “That was wonderful. You’re so sweet, so good to me. W-why would Mommy not want me to feel like that?”

“I don’t know, but I think it would be better if we didn’t tell her… don’t you?” Helen said as she idly traced circles on the young girl’s stomach.

“I won’t tell,” Julia said solemnly. “Cross my heart.”

Helen smiled. “How does it feel down there now?”

“Warm… maybe a little sore,” Julia said, blushing a bit.

Untying the belt of her dressing gown as she stood, then letting her robe fall to the floor, Helen revealed her naked body. With a smile she said. “I can make it feel all better, precious.”

Turning back the sheet, Helen took hold of the waistband of Julia’s pajamas, then slowly pulled them down, giving the girl the opportunity to say no if she wanted. Instead, Julia helped by lifting her bottom clear of the bed, meekly allowing herself to be undressed. She wasn’t exactly sure what was happening, but the very idea of Aunt Helen wanting to see her with no clothes on sent a twinge of warmth through her still tingling sex.

Placing both hands on Julia’s knees, Helen gently parted her niece’s legs, exposing the source of the intoxicating scent that was now making itself felt. Drawn to it like a bee to a flower, Helen knelt before Julia and began to nuzzle the insides of the girl’s soft thighs.

Her kisses were delicate, like the touch of butterfly wings — moving gradually, steadily towards the sweet pink prize that awaited her between Julia’s legs. With the tip of her tongue Helen sampled her honey, savoring the heady aroma of arousal and drawing a soft whimper from her niece.

Helen licked at Julia’s slit, seeking out more of the young girl’s essence. She reached up, took hold of Julia’s right hand and guided it to the young girl’s breast, showing her how to fondle herself while Helen concentrated on her pussy.

Moaning with pleasure and bucking her hips, forcing her pussy against her aunt’s face, Julia thought she was in heaven… only to find she hadn’t quite reached the ultimate heights when Helen finally allowed her tongue to brush the young girl’s clitoris.

The shock of pleasure almost made Julia scream — but having felt it once, the young girl knew she wanted to experience it again and again, and Helen was only too happy to oblige as her niece began to grope her own breasts, pausing to pluck at the swollen nipples with fingers made clumsy in her innocent excitement..

Faster and faster, Helen’s tongue flicked her niece’s engorged pleasure button until the preteen girl did scream, shuddering helplessly as a climax tore through her like lightning.

Once Helen had brought Julia down from her orgasm, she lay down beside the panting little girl. Wrapping an arm around her now flushed niece, she drew Julia in until her head rested on Helen’s breast.

“Mmmmm… thank you, Aunt Helen,” Julia breathed, unaware of the happy tear forming in her aunt’s eye.

For a while they lay quietly in each other’s arms, Julia still drifting in a post-orgasmic haze. Suddenly Helen felt a finger stroking the top of her thigh and heard Julia shyly ask, “Uh… would you like for me to make you feel good, Aunt Helen?”

“You don’t have to,” Helen said, not wanting to take advantage of her sweet niece.

But Julia planted a soft kiss on the outside of Helen’s breast, then whispered, “But I’d like to…”

Without further words, the nude preteen began kissing her way down Helen’s body, her lips whisper-soft against her aunt’s tummy.

When Julia lay between Helen’s thighs, she gazed, utterly enthralled, at the first pussy she had ever seen up close. Slowly she reached out to brush the sticky labia with curious fingers, then cooed excitedly when her beautiful aunt moaned in response, parting her legs even further.

Julia dipped her head to press a loving kiss into the wet folds of Aunt Helen’s vagina, pausing to lick her lips — savoring the taste, finding it delicious. Eagerly the young girl burrowed her face between her aunt’s thighs, her tongue emerging to explore.

Helen fondled her breast with one hand while the other rested on Julia’s head, her fingers entwining in the young girl’s golden tresses. “Oh yes. Oh,” she whimpered. “Oh, my sweet child… that feels so — OH! — so good.”

As Julia pleasured her aunt she looked up over Helen’s mound, transfixing the older woman with her loving gaze, shaded by long, dark lashes. She was the very picture of the innocent slut — and a whimpering Helen couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sexy sight.

Julia licked and sucked at her aunt’s juicy cunt with abandon, happily making love to another female for the first time. It felt so good, so right — better than any of the awkward fumblings she’d experienced with boys.

Hands shaking, Helen indicated the throbbing nubbin of her clitoris. “Julia, my love… oh God, p-please lick me here. Oh. Oh yes.”

The young girl obliged, raising her face slightly to tease her aunt’s clit with the tip of her tongue — and the response was volcanic.

A shudder rocked Helen’s body, then she cried out as a shock of pure pleasure smashed through her, then another, then another. Her niece held on tightly, clutching Helen’s thighs, still pleasuring her aunt as best she could.

Finally the older woman stopped Julia with a hand on the girl’s head. “Oh, precious,” Helen gasped, “No — no more.”

Julia placed one last kiss upon her aunt’s vulva before crawling up the bed, flopping next to Helen in the place she had occupied earlier. Both women were flushed and breathing heavily.

“You look very sleepy, my angel,” Helen said at last, and immediately Julia stifled a yawn.

“I do feel tired, Aunt Helen,” Julia said dreamily. “Will you kiss me again before I fall asleep?” She tilted her head to peer up at her aunt, her hair in disarray, the pretty blue ribbon long since dislodged. The girl wore an expression of adoration on her face.

Helen smiled lovingly at her niece, then she let her lips find those of the sleepy girl in her arms. The kiss was warm and passionate.

“I love you, Aunt Helen,” Julia sighed happily as their lips parted. “Can we do this again? It was nice…” She yawned once more.

Helen sprinkled a few soft kisses on her niece’s face and neck. “Oh, precious,” she whispered, “I’ll make love to you whenever you like.” She sat up in the bed, swinging her legs to the floor. “Goodnight, Julia.”

Suddenly Julia’s eyes were open, and she seized her aunt’s hand. “No, Aunt Helen,” she pleaded, “don’t go. Please… stay with me.”

Helen’s heart fluttered as her adorable niece brought her hand to her lips, kissing the palm. “Okay, then,” she smiled, again hugging the young girl to her. They settled down together, snuggling close.

Soon Julia was fast asleep, her breathing regular and deep. Helen lay quietly, radiant with happiness, the object of her deepest desires naked and in her arms at long last.

The End

I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 38

  • Posted on July 18, 2016 at 1:48 pm

The Slumber Party, Part II, or Riding the Pussy-go-round

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

“Do you want me to touch you there?” Deanna was asking her cousin Tori in the video.

“Yeah, it feels good!” Tori said.

Already this was becoming the greatest slumber party in the history of slumber parties! Like many of these get-togethers, it was mostly an excuse for engaging in sexual play, depending on how much sexual knowledge the slumber party guests had. Many girls our age either didn’t know much or wouldn’t admit to all they knew. The girls at this party had no such problem. Even the ten-year-olds, Jenna and Carmen, were more like adults when it came to sex.

What we were watching on the large TV screen was the sexual education of another little girl, five year-old Tori. My eyes were glued to the little girl who had the puffy pussy of a girl that age, as well as a little bubble butt. I tried to imagine what it would be like to touch her the way Deanna was on the video, which Deanna’s sister Elizabeth had been more than happy to video.

As we watched, the picture began to jiggle.

“Sorry, Elizabeth couldn’t keep her hands off herself,” Deanna explained.

“I don’t blame her,” said Linda, who was staring at the events on the screen. Carmen was pinching Linda’s nipples playfully and tweaking a nipple stud piercing the older girl had while Linda rubbed her own clit lightly.

“Are you gonna kiss and lick it again?” The question was Tori’s.

“If you want me to,” said the onscreen Deanna.

At this point Elizabeth walked up to Deanna and Tori and knelt, pointing the camera down to where Deanna’s head was concealing Tori’s little pussy.

“You wanna touch me where I showed you?” Elizabeth asked from behind the camera.

“Yeah,” came the enthusiastic reply. We watched as Tori’s hand came up to Elizabeth’s pussy and began massaging her clit. Then a shot of Tori’s face showed how much she was enjoying touching the seventeen-year-old.

After about five minutes of this, Tori said, “It’s starting to tingle a lot again.”

“Just let it happen, sweetpea,” we heard Elizabeth say. “Just like the last time.”

“K,” Tori said. So… she had come before.

Soon Tori’s cute, little face scrunched up and she began to breathe in short gasps, as if she were trying to finish running a marathon. Her squeals of delight echoed throughout the den where we sat watching this erotic display. Her little body spasmed and shook as the orgasm ran through her.

We could hear Elizabeth breathing hard too, but she wasn’t coming yet.

“Come lick me,” Deanna said to Tori, “and I’ll lick Elizabeth this time.”

Soon, the video showed Tori licking her cousin Deanna while Deanna licked Elizabeth.

“I have to lie down,” Elizabeth said. I was amazed she’d managed to remain upright all this time.

The camera angle had some funny movements, and we watched as both Elizabeth and then Deanna came. The camera work was shaky by this time, but the eroticism of what was happening affected all of us.

Then the video made that funny, twisting transition where you can’t see anything for a moment until what had been on the tape that you are taping over comes into view. It was of Deanna when she was younger, like maybe seven. Once again, Elizabeth was operating the video camera, but Deanna was asleep. We knew it was Elizabeth because she was providing some narration.

“I need to be quiet, but I don’t think she’ll wake up. She hasn’t before,” Elizabeth’s voice said, though it sounded younger.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Deanna said from her place on the sofa where she sat watching this strange video.

We watched, wondering what might happen. The young Deanna lay in her bed with the covers thrown off, as if she had gotten hot in the night and disposed of the blankets. She wore panties and a t-shirt, but nothing else. I began to wonder if what I thought might happen would.

And then it did.

Elizabeth’s hand sneaked into the picture frame and reached for her sister’s panties. I knew Deanna used to sleep like the dead, and I doubted she would wake up during this.

The hand sneaked into Deanna’s panties and began to rub the young girl’s slit. Deanna, still asleep, gave a soft moan after a minute of this and adjusted her body. Then she was still again.

The hand managed to get underneath the elastic waistband and gently tug the panties down to just below Deanna’s crotch.

“Oh my God,” Deanna said. “She’s molesting me in my sleep.” She gave a nervous giggle.

“You never knew about this?” Sara asked.

“No,” Deanna said. “I’ve never seen it, and I never knew she did it, much less taped it.”

It seemed that a part of Deanna was annoyed at this intrusion by her sister. It was obviously before they began their incestuous relationship, or at least it was before Deanna knowingly took part in it. Their mutual relationship hadn’t happened until Deanna was nine. She was clearly younger in this video.

On the other hand, I could see watching this was turning Deanna on quite a bit. The knowledge that her sister had lusted after her for at least two years prior to the moment they had consensual sex was indeed very exciting. Elizabeth would have been about eleven in this video.

We watched as Elizabeth played with her seven-year-old sister’s snatch.

I glanced around. All eyes were on the TV screen. The idea we were watching a real molestation seemed to excite everyone even more than we had been excited by the part with Tori.

As I watched the video, sneaking glances at the girls watching it, I could see that everyone was being turned on by this, even Deanna, who was the one her sister was taking liberties with.

This looked more like a pubescent seduction, or at least a ‘pre’ seduction, at any rate.

I wanted to find out what Deanna thought. “Do you wish you’d woken up and caught her?” I asked.

Deanna glanced at me before returning her eyes to what was happening on the screen. “Yeah.”

“Are you pissed?” Marie asked.

“I was a little at first, but then I thought about how she’s only eleven here.”

“What are you now, then, if not pissed?” I asked.

She smiled at me. “Horny.”

That settled it. Had she been bothered by this in any way, I would have insisted we turn it off. Her response basically said it was okay to watch this. She certainly wanted to. I guess if she didn’t mind, nobody else should either.

Elizabeth’s hand disappeared behind the camera again, but she was obviously reaching for her face. I suspected what she was doing.

Sure enough, when her hand reappeared, her fingers glistened with her saliva. Being asleep, and only seven, Deanna didn’t produce much in the way of pussy juices, so it would be natural to moisten her pussy with spit.

As we watched Elizabeth continue to fondle her little sister’s pussy, the young, sleeping Deanna began to respond. Her hips began to move slightly and her breathing pace increased quite a bit.

“Here it comes,” we heard Elizabeth say from behind the camera.

Deanna’s body began to hunch a little bit and spasms rocked her, though they were small ones. I realized my mouth had dropped open as we witnessed little Deanna coming on camera.

When she had finished her little climax, her breathing slowly returned to normal. We watched as Elizabeth’s hand moved behind the camera again.

Then the camera adjusted its view, making me dizzy with the quick movement. We were now looking at eleven-year-old Elizabeth’s face. She smiled and put the finger that had been playing with Deanna’s pussy into her mouth, saying, “Mmmm. Delicious!” into the camera. “Maybe one day I’ll get my nerve up to lick her directly.”

The video made that adjustment from one filming to another, and we were watching something that had obviously been taped off the TV, a cartoon of some kind that I didn’t recognize, though I probably would have if the video had continued playing. However, since the sex had ended, so had the movie, with Sara switching off their VHS player.

“Holy shit! You had no idea, did you?” Sara asked.

“No,” Deanna said.

“You two obviously get it on now,” Linda said.

I looked at Marie’s older sisters. Each had one hand on the pussy of the ten-year-old nearest them and one on their own mound. Then I saw that Marie and Deanna were masturbating themselves gently as well. The funny part was that I didn’t notice I had been touching myself too.

I giggled before asking Deanna, “What are you thinking?”

“That I wish I’d woken up and she’d taught me how to lick her pussy back then instead of us getting it on for the first time two years later. We wasted so much time,” Deanna said. “It was pretty obvious I liked what she did. Imagine if we’d gotten into a sixty-nine.”

I looked at Deanna and I could tell she was disappointed she hadn’t awakened during her sister’s nighttime fun.

“Well, there are plenty of girls here who would love to lick you,” Linda said.

I liked Linda. She was older and had pink and blue hair, a nose ring, and a number of other piercings, including a stud through her right nipple, which Carmen had enjoyed playing with earlier. I could not imagine doing that to my boob, but I admired the one she had. She also had four piercings in her left ear and three in her right.

Yet, despite looking so punk, she seemed to be fairly average. She would surprise a lot of the adults I knew who thought punk kids were rebellious and difficult. Linda was as nice as it was possible for a girl to be. She just liked that look. I began to wonder if the fact her mom had brought her up to be accepting of others made that difference.

Of the three sisters, she was also the plumpest, though I would never have described her as fat in any way. It’s just that whereas Sara and Marie were thin and athletic, Linda had a bit more, well, padding, I guess would be the word. Like I said, average.

Not only that, but she had the most genuine smile I’d ever seen. It beamed from her face, and when she smiled at me, I automatically smiled back.

Now, she was smiling at me again, and was crooking her index finger to beckon me over to her.

I think I knew what she had in mind. I had noticed her whisper to Carmen before her ‘come here’ gesture, so I suspected I was in for a great threesome.

Meanwhile Sara was preparing to go down on my sister, who was all smiles. I could tell Jenna had gotten an instant crush on Sara.

Marie and Deanna were already making out, and Marie had one hand on Deanna’s mound, rubbing her delicious honey all through the folds inside her pussy.

For a moment I was jealous before realizing both of these girls loved me completely. We were now a threesome in all aspects, and jealousy had no place in our lives. Who cared if they got together, even if I wasn’t around? I would be a hypocrite if I let something like that bother me. After all, I still had sex with them when the other wasn’t around.

Joining Linda and Carmen on the sofa, I set myself in a position that allowed me to make out with Linda while playing with Carmen’s pussy and butthole. I placed one knee between Linda’s legs, the other outside her thigh, and squatted so that my pussy was against her right thigh. I moved my hips in a fucking motion to smear my juices on her leg. Linda grinned as I did that, then reached down to where my pussy pressed against her and gathered some fluid on her finger. Bringing her hand up to my face, she let me lick some of my juices from the offered finger. After I had a few licks, she stuck her finger in her mouth and said, “Mmmm.”

Then we started making out. I reached for Carmen’s pussy and let my fingers flutter, rubbing her clit and labia. She was soaking wet down there, and I loved it. I loved that she enjoyed watching Deanna with Tori on the TV, not to mention Elizabeth’s youthful foray into Deanna’s room one night to touch her pussy while Deanna slept.

Linda cupped my boobs, massaging and pinching them. Our mouths slid over each other while our tongues wrapped each other in a spit bath.

I continued to rub my pussy against Linda’s thigh as our kiss broke. I glanced at Carmen, whose eyes were half-lidded with lust.

Suddenly, I wanted to get my mouth on Carmen’s pussy. I’d licked her before, when she and Jenna had tricked me, but I wanted to do it again.

“Let’s both take turns licking Carmen,” I said to Linda.

She was all for it. Smiling, she said, “Sure thing.”

We moved to the floor, which was plushly carpeted, and laid Carmen back with a sofa pillow under her head. She spread her legs wide, gripping her knees to pull them toward her almost non-existent boobs, and I could see the sticky honey that coated everything inside her hairless pussy. My mouth literally watered. I had to stop and swallow for fear I would drool onto the carpet.

“Me first,” I said.

“Your idea, so dive in,” said Linda, grinning.

I didn’t hesitate. Who would? I was being offered a succulent little pussy, bare of any hair without the need for waxing or shaving, and its owner eager for me to bring her to a smashing orgasm.

I followed Linda’s advice and dived in.

I had licked her before, and was immediately taken back to that time. She tasted so fresh and delicious! I did the chewing thing I had learned from Marie, and it seemed to be sending Carmen into orbit. She began squealing and trembling. I could feel her legs shudder she was enjoying my lips, tongue, and teeth so much.

Next, Linda took a turn, doing pretty well the same thing I had. I figured the Perlacci girls were all expert at using their teeth just enough to cause extreme pleasure.

Then, I took over again, spending only a minute licking and chewing Carmen’s pussy, hoping I would be the one to take her over the top.

Linda tapped my shoulder and I moved back to allow her access to Carmen’s dripping pussy. I waited for about a minute and tapped her to take my turn again.

Soon, Carmen was grunting and hunching herself up from lying down, as if she were trying to do crunches for her abs. She was coming like mad. Finally, the little girl tapped my head, saying, “No more… No more… Sensitive.”

I leaned back and Linda was immediately kissing me, tasting the sweet nectar that was covering my mouth and chin. We settled back and moved into a frenzied sixty-nine. We both were so horny we felt the need to come as quickly as we could. At least I know I felt that way. And based on Linda’s quick movements to get us into position, I figured she felt the same.

Carmen lay there and watched us eating each other. The sounds of other girls’ orgasms filled the room and helped push me quickly over the edge. I could hear Deanna’s high-pitched squeaks, along with Marie’s grunts of pleasure. I knew they were having a wonderful time with each other, whatever they were doing. I could hear Sara talking to Jenna and telling her how lovely she was, and how soft her pussy was. Jenna wasn’t hearing much of it, I don’t think. She was too busy coming.

Later, we lay there catching our breath and cooling down. Then we decided to play Truth or Dare. We decided to let the youngest girl go first, which meant Jenna would start the game since she was a few months younger than Carmen.

Jenna looked at me first and waved her hand at me as if shooing a fly. “I know everything about you, already,” she said. The other girls laughed.

“I don’t,” Sara said.

“Then you can ask her something if she chooses truth,” Jenna answered, which brought more laughter and a lighthearted “she shot you down” from Linda.

Jenna decided to choose her friend first, probably to avoid being embarrassed by asking or daring the wrong thing.

“Carmen, truth or dare?” she began.

“Truth?” she said, not sure which she should pick since either could be embarrassing.

Jenna thought for a second. “Okay, how old were you the first time you touched your pussy and liked how it felt?”

Carmen thought for a few seconds before Marie said, “Come on, girl. You gotta tell. It’s the rule.” Marie was smiling at Carmen, or rather leering at her. I could tell she wanted to have some sexual fun with her before the night was through.

“I know. I’m trying to remember. I was kinda young.”

“That’s the point,” Sara said. “How young?” She, too, was obviously excited by the idea of having fun with Carmen.

“I think I was four or five,” Carmen answered.

“How did it happen?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t have to tell that,” Carmen said. “I already answered your question. Now, it’s my turn.” She looked around at the naked girls sitting in a circle and landed on Marie, probably as payback for trying to hurry her up.

“Marie,” she said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” said Marie, always the boldest one in the group. It was one of the many reasons I loved her.

“Okay,” Carmen said. “You have to run naked up to the street and back while we watch.”

“Like she’s never done that before,” Sara laughed.

“Shush,” said Marie, grinning. I had never heard about such exploits and was curious.

We all got up and went to the formal living room, which faced the street. I was surprised when Marie stepped out into the night and sauntered to the street and back, seeming not to worry if anyone saw her walking outside in the nude. It took her well over a minute, closer to two actually, to complete her trek.

We walked back to the den, laughing and joking.

“Okay, my turn,” Marie said. “Cheryl, truth or dare?”

I had considered what I would say, of course, when called upon. I figured most dares wouldn’t be much of a challenge, much like asking Marie to walk to the street and back naked. I would be more nervous, given it wasn’t my neighborhood, exactly, but I would have no problem completing the task. Because most dares in these circumstances involved nudity or sex, there really weren’t many actual ‘dares’ for us to fear. I mean, if we’d not just had an orgy, maybe telling someone to lick another girl would be the biggest dare possible.

Therefore, I decided to see if someone could challenge me with a question that might be uncomfortable to answer. I know most girls might shy away from the more difficult choice, but I wanted the game to be exciting.

“Truth,” I said.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, sexually, that nobody else knows?”

I knew my answer right away, but there was a glitch. “Deanna already knows it,” I said.

“Something even Deanna doesn’t know,” Marie said.

“She knows everything,” I said.

“There’s not one thing she doesn’t know about because you’ve been too embarrassed to tell her?” Linda asked.

“Nope,” I said. I was confident I had told her everything about my sexual life.

“Okay, then, we’ll let you tell the most embarrassing thing that only Deanna knows,” said Marie.

“I’ve let a dog lick me to orgasm,” I said.

Jaws dropped all around the circle. Eyes went wide.

Then I saw Deanna. Her jaw had dropped, too, and her eyes showed her shock at my statement.

“You didn’t know about that?!” I asked her.

“No!” she said. “Really? You let a dog lick your pussy until you came?”

Now I really was embarrassed. Had I gone too far?

Then Sara broke the tension. “That is so… fucking… hot!”

I continued to look at the circle of girls. “Really?” I asked, echoing Deanna’s question to me seconds before.

Sara, Linda, Marie, and Deanna all began to talk at once, excited by my confession. Questions like, Did you like it? What did it feel like? Did you let the dog fuck you? bombarded me.

I laughed. “One at a time!” I said through my giggles. The younger girls, Jenna and Carmen still sat there, wide-eyed. I felt certain they didn’t know what to think about what I’d done.

“I actually considered doing that once at a friend’s house,” Sara said. “She had a mixed breed dog that loved to stick his nose in my crotch. One night I spent the night and went to pee and the dog came up to me in greeting. His nose went straight for my pussy. I was only like fourteen at the time, and I considered letting him lick me to find out what it was like, but I chickened out.”

“You mean Sheila’s dog Max?” Linda asked.

“Yeah.”

“He used to sniff my crotch all the time, too!”

“What was it like?” Sara asked me. “Did you do anything else with the dog?”

So I proceeded to tell them about babysitting Emily and how I’d discovered her letting her dog Annie lick her. By the time I’d finished, each of the girls had her hand in her pussy, rubbing it.

“Maybe we can talk Mom into getting a dog,” Jenna said.

“I doubt it,” I told her. “She doesn’t like dogs much, and besides, she’d know why we wanted one.”

By this time, the game of Truth or Dare had been forgotten. I remembered a game I had played with other girls and women for my tenth birthday and suggested we play it. I explained how it worked, and everyone loved the idea since it would give everyone a chance to lick each of the girls at the slumber party.

I made everyone lie on their backs on the carpeted floor next to each other, the youngest, Jenna, in the first position, followed by Carmen. Marie, Deanna, Linda, and Sara followed the young girls as they formed a row of naked girls. Because it was my game, I was to start.

I lay between my sister’s legs and began to lick her pussy, spending maybe a minute on her before moving on to Carmen. After I finished licking Carmen for a minute, I moved to Marie and Jenna began licking Carmen. As each of us finished licking, we moved to the next girl in line. By the time I was licking Sara, Jenna was licking Linda, Carmen was making Deanna feel good, and Marie was waiting her turn to lick Deanna. When I finished licking Sara, I lay down beside her to wait my turn to get licked. When Jenna finished licking Sara for a minute, she moved to me.

It was the world’s most wonderful party game!

The movement of the line of girls began to snake around the room to avoid furniture and walls. Soon, I heard Linda begin to come. The rule was that even if it was time to move to the next person, once someone started coming, nobody moved on until that person had finished her orgasm. This allowed girls to get even closer to their climax.

Once Linda finished coming, everyone moved to the next girl in line. Another rule was that nobody could play with her own pussy. If you are not being licked, you can play with your boobs, but that was all. With an even number of girls there were times when everyone was either licking or being licked. That never happened when there was an odd number of girls, like this time.

We continued the game for at least a half hour. By that time everyone had come at least once. Linda and Sara had come twice, but Marie came three times. Needless to say, everyone LOVED this game!

“I wish I’d known about this game years ago,” Sara said when we had all recovered from playing.

“What do you call the game?” Marie asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just ‘the game.’

“I have an idea for a name,” said Carmen.

“What?” I asked, curious to see what name she might have.

“Well, it’s sort of like a merry-go-round, so why not call it pussy-go-round?”

Everyone responded very positively to that name. It fit the idea, and it made the sexual aspect to the game obvious.

We were all getting tired by then, so we went upstairs to Sara’s room. She and Linda shared a room and each slept in their own king-sized bed. They had pushed the two kings together to form this huge bed. We tumbled onto the comfortable beds and finally drifted off. I remember looking at Sara’s bedside clock when I was about to nod off and saw it was 1:43 A.M.

It seemed like only a minute later that I was being awakened, but not in the usual manner. I awoke to the feeling of a mouth on my pussy.

Someone was licking my slit, coaxing my clit out to play and enjoy the fun. I really didn’t care who it was, but I realized that whoever was licking me may have gotten the idea from the video we’d watched earlier that evening.

I was being molested in my sleep, and because I was aware someone I knew was doing the molesting, I was fine with the idea. In fact I loved it!

I lay with my eyes closed, playing a game with myself to see if I could identify who it was without looking.

I could feel soft, long hair lying against my hips, so it wasn’t Linda. I listened to the girl’s breathing as she ate me. For some reason, she sounded older, so I eliminated Jenna and Carmen. She seemed to feel larger than Marie or Deanna, so I guessed it was Sara.

Looking down, I found I was correct. I could see her in the dim sunlight that managed to sneak itself into the room around the heavy curtains. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was only just after six o’clock.

Sara was lying between my legs, her mouth against my slit. I moved slightly to give her easier access. When she looked at me, I smiled at her. She winked and returned to what she was doing.

I felt movement to my left and noticed that Linda was licking Jenna, who was still asleep, but probably not for long. When Linda saw me, she pulled back and began to flick Jenna’s clit with the tip of her tongue for me to see, the corners of her mouth turned upward in a smile as she did it. Then she moved back and covered my sister’s hairless mound with her mouth. I noticed Jenna stirring a bit as she did this.

My own clit was starting to tingle in such a way that I knew I was getting close. Jenna awoke at that moment and looked down to find Linda perched between her legs providing the exquisite pleasure for the ten-year-old.

She immediately began to come.

Meanwhile, my thirteen-year-old clit was climbing the mountain fast. I began to buck and hump Sara’s mouth, and my movements woke Deanna and Marie up. Carmen remained asleep for now.

I think my screams of delight may have awakened her, however.

Soon, everyone was lying in a pile of young girl flesh, seeking the nearest pussy, boob, or butt. I felt someone sucking my toes. It tickled, but in a good way. Fingers invaded my pussy, which was happy to surrender. Mouths attacked my boobs, bringing my already stiff nipples to firmer attention. Someone’s finger entered my butthole, while a mouth clamped onto my slit, the tongue massaging my clit.

Meanwhile, I was doing the same to whichever girl I came into contact with. Each pussy was bald, but some were larger, so I figured the larger ones belonged to Sara or Linda. I recognized Jenna’s pussy and took a minute to lick my little sister. My fingers explored whatever they touched.

It was an orgy to beat all orgies, at least to me. I felt I was in heaven.

Finally, I wanted to be with the two girls I was madly in love with, Deanna and Marie. We ended up in a daisy chain. The other girls watched until they rejoined one another.

By nine o’clock, we were all totally exhausted and realized the party had to come to an end.

Later, as we waited for Gwen to come pick up Carmen, I asked her again about her relationship with Gwen.

“Yeah, she had me spend the night last week,” Carmen said. “When I got to her place, she asked me if I knew why she wanted me to come stay the night with her. Clare had stayed with her a few nights before, so I knew what was going to happen. Of course, Clare had told me everything. So I told Aunt Gwen I wanted her to do to me everything she’d done with Clare.”

“How was it?” I asked, remembering the time Gwen joined in for a family ‘get-together.’

“Great! I asked my mom if I could stay the night with her at least once a week, and she said I could.”

I was happy for my sister’s young friend. She had to put up with Clare and her bossiness, so she deserved some special time with Gwen.

Gwen picked up Carmen, and Jenna and I loaded into Sara’s car to be taken home. I felt so tired and sexually satisfied that I thought I could go without sex for a week after all that. As it turned out, that idea didn’t last because Jenna sneaked into my bedroom three nights later and molested me in the middle of the night because, as she said, “I wanted to find out what it was like to do that to someone.” It turned out she liked it, and continued sneaking into my bed for years.

And of course, I would often return the favor. Because we were already lovers, it was certainly not any kind of molestation, just fun.

The slumber party had changed our lives in a way.

But when I got home from the fun, troubling news awaited.

Continue on to Chapter 39