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I Was the Daughter of a Porn Star, Chapter 42

  • Posted on August 10, 2016 at 5:06 pm

Trouble in Paradise

By Cheryl Taggert 

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

We swam around in the pool for maybe thirty minutes, splashing each other and having fun. Giggles and laughter filled the room, which had a distinct echo. I admired her slender figure and I know she admired mine. I stopped for a few minutes at one of the filter jets, and she said she liked them too. She watched me while I enjoyed the sensations, but I didn’t want to come just yet.

My hopes were for more tangible sexual contact between us. In other words, I wanted to sixty-nine with Erin so bad I could taste it. Well, actually, I couldn’t taste it; that was the problem.

When we got out, we lay on two of the lounge chairs. We chatted for a bit, then we grew quiet. I lay there, wondering how to broach the subject of doing something with and to each other when she took care of that for me.

I glanced at Erin, and her fingers were busy playing with her pussy. She didn’t seem to be close to anything like an orgasm, but she was definitely enjoying the touches. She noticed me looking at her and she blushed, removing her hands to cover her red face.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If you want to, do it. It doesn’t matter if I’m doing it too. Just go for it. You could end up having the sorest pussy on your block, which is actually a good thing,” I said and laughed at my own little joke.

“You sure?” she said.

“Yeah, but there is something better, remember?”

“Yeah, but you never said what.”

“Well, have you ever touched another girl’s pussy before?”

“Ewww! No! That’s gross!” Uh-oh. That didn’t bode well.

“It’s not gross. It’s kinda cool. And it feels great!” I said, hoping to convince my eleven-year-old friend to explore this part of sex with me.

“You’ve done it?!”

“Sure. I’m surprised you haven’t.”

“No way! I’m not a lesbo!”

“You like the way I look, don’t you?” I asked, knowing full well she had enjoyed looking at my naked charms since she’d first seen them.

“Well, yeah. But my mom says women and girls often find each other attractive, but that doesn’t mean they want to do sex stuff with each other. My mom says it’s because women just appreciate beauty.”

Oh good. I was going to have to argue with her mom’s point, which was valid, though not much use to me, a horny fifteen-year-old girl wanting to seduce another girl who was both inexperienced and rather reluctant. Still, there was no way I was going to do anything unless Erin wanted to do it. I hoped to eventually use my mom’s line, “What we do is up to you” with her.

But first she’d have to want to do something besides masturbate together.

“Well, it’s not as icky as you think.”

“How long have you been doing it with girls?” she asked. I could tell she thought it was maybe a few weeks or months at most. Boy, was she in for a shock.

“Since I was six.”

“No way! Six-year-olds don’t do sex stuff with other people, especially other girls.”

“Well, this wasn’t a girl. It was a grown woman.”

“You mean you were molested by a real grown woman?!” I loved that phrase, ‘a real grown woman,’ as if there were fake grown women running around also having sex with little girls.

“I wasn’t molested really. I wanted to do it.”

“Who was it?” she asked.

I was ready for that question. No way was I going to tell her the truth here, especially since she seemed dead set against doing anything with each other. “It was a woman my mom knew.” That was the truth, really. My mom knew herself, after all.

“What did she do to you?”

“Actually, the question should be ‘what did she do with you?’ instead. She didn’t do anything to me. We enjoyed it together.”

Her face was incredulous as she got the news that I had been happily practicing lesbianism since I was six.

“Don’t you like boys?” she asked.

“Yes, I do, but to be honest, I prefer girls much more. They are softer and gentler, and they are more interested in pleasing their sexual partners than a lot of men are.”

“So, what did you do with her, just touch each other’s pussies?”

Ahh. A crack in the wall seemed to be forming as her curiosity kicked in.

“Well, yes, but more than that. The thing is that it always feels better when someone else touches you.”

She shrugged. “Maybe when a boy touches me. I don’t know if I would like it if it was a girl.”

I lay there trying to think of what to say to entice her to at least try it, when she spoke up again.

“I can’t believe you’re a lesbo.”

“First, lesbo is a derogatory term. It’s meant to be hurtful. The proper word is lesbian. And second, I’m actually not really a lesbian. I’m bisexual with a leaning towards other girls and women. There are other bisexual women who have leanings towards men. It’s all about preference.”

“So you’ve had sex with a guy?”

“Well, I’ve not been fucked by a guy, if that’s what you mean. But I have sucked some guys off before.”

Boy, her eyes widened at that one!

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“What was it like?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted the conversation to go there. On the one hand it was at least talking about sex, and it would certainly get Erin more turned on. On the other hand, it would be more about the guy’s dick rather than my pussy. Or Erin’s. That would be counterproductive to my goal.

However, that also brought an approach to mind, one that might work.

“It was nice. I like the taste of a guy’s sperm, so they love that because I swallow it.”

“You mean you let the guys put their sperm in your mouth?”

“Yeah, and the accepted term would be they ‘shoot off’ in my mouth, but I like the taste of a girl’s pussy juices more.”

“You taste girls’ pussy juices? How?”

Wow. This girl, for being such a delinquent, sure didn’t know much about sex. Of course, what she needed was a teacher and I was pushing hard for the job.

“Girls lick each other there. It’s about the best feeling in the world.” I paused a second, thinking about what I’d said. “No, not about the best feeling, it is the best feeling.”

“So girls have licked you too?”

“Sure.”

“And guys. Do they lick girls there too?”

“Of course, but a girl’s mouth is better. No stubble to rub you raw down there, no facial hair to tickle or scratch you. Yeah, girls are definitely better for that.”

She lay back and sighed. “Still, I wish you were a guy. I’d let you do lots of stuff with me then.”

“Think about what you just said. If I had a penis, I could touch you? What’s the difference between my hands and a guy’s hands?”

She giggled. “When you masturbate, you’re not touching a dick.”

“Very funny. Really, though. What is the difference?”

“A girl’s hands are… I don’t know. Smaller?”

“Wow. Big difference,” I said, hoping she would say what the real difference was. If I said it then it wouldn’t be as good.

“Well, they are.”

“I know,” I said. “But there’s another big difference.”

“They’re bigger?”

“Yes, but there’s more. It’s probably the biggest difference that makes a girl’s hands better for touching you there than a boy’s.”

“You tell me,” she said.

“No, I prefer you figure it out on your own. Then you’ll see why a girl’s hands are better for a number of reasons.”

She lay there on her side, her elbow bent and her head on her right hand, looking at me and thinking. I was in the same position, but of course my head was resting on my left hand.

Finally, I tried to give her a hint. “Think about a boy’s hands. What has he been doing with them?”

She giggled again. “You mean other than wanking off?”

“Yes,” I chuckled with her. “Other than that.”

“I don’t know. Playing ball or some other sport. Maybe lifting weights and getting sexy muscles.” She grinned at me as if she had demonstrated why boys are better, but she was actually heading where I wanted her to go.

“Okay,” I said. “So what happens to a boy’s hands with all that rough use that makes them different from a girl’s? How are a girl’s hands different because she doesn’t play a lot of sports that involve rough use of the hands?”

“You mean like how a girl’s hands are softer?”

“Exactly!” I said. “Now, why would that make a girl’s hands better for touching your tender, smooth, definitely UN-rough pussy?”

“You mean because of that a girl’s hands feel a lot better than a boy’s hands down there?”

“They do to me!” I said, although that was a lie. I had never actually had a boy or man touch me there before. In fact, all I’d ever really done with a guy was either jerk him off of suck him off. It occurred to me then that I had pleasured them, but not one had taken any steps to pleasure me, at least not that I recalled. Of course, all the guys I had done anything with were grown men who knew my mom well, and she may have told them hands off. But still, it seemed awfully selfish of them.

She looked at me, the wheels obviously turning. “I guess I could close my eyes and pretend you were a guy rubbing me.”

It was a step in the right direction — a baby step, but still a step — so I said, “Sure. Believe me, you’ll like it.”

She sighed again, studying me. “You really want to touch my pussy, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. A lot.”

She glanced down at my pussy. Was she thinking of maybe trying out touching me?

Lying back, she said, “Okay. I’ll let you touch me.”

She spread her legs a bit and shut her eyes. Rising from the lounger, I put a folded towel on the cement floor beside her and knelt on it. Then reaching out, I touched her pussy for the first time.

I started by dipping some of her moisture up and smearing it around her lips, making the skin slippery. I did this twice. She had a lot of fluids built up down there, and I thought that, too, was a good sign. She was definitely horny.

I watched her face for signs of enjoyment. She began to breathe a bit more deeply as I massaged her labia, continuing to lubricate her. I wanted to make sure she did not feel any sort of a rough touch. Keeping her lubed up was the way to avoid that.

Finally, I moved up to her clit and began to massage her there. There was a sharp intake of breath when I made contact with her little button. I continued to rub her gently, wishing I could put my mouth on her pussy instead. But she hadn’t consented to that, so I put it out of my mind. Okay, I sort of put it in a closet, where it would bang on the mental door wanting out again, because I never once stopped imagining my mouth on her pussy. I just concentrated more on what I was allowed to do to her. No, not to her, for her.

Her eyes remained closed, but I did notice she would peek at me before shutting them again. I counted that as a good sign. She may be imagining it was a boy, but her vision was confirming that these wonderful sensations were coming from me, a 100%, happy-to-have-a-pussy, fifteen-year-old girl.

Her hips began to rock a bit, moving more or less on their own without any conscious thought from her. I had no idea what she was thinking, but she was definitely enjoying the touch of my hand — a soft, feminine hand, and one that knew all the secret places that felt good.

*******

My God! She’s right. It does feel better when someone else touches you there. I thought she was just saying that get me to let her do stuff with me. Shit, that feels good! Does this make me a lesbo? Do I really like girls but don’t know it? Maybe I am bisexual. I wonder what it would feel like to touch her puss? I’m — ooh — I’m gonna — oh, FUCK that felt good!  I’m gonna come like this. I didn’t think I would, but I bet she wants me to. She’s sure trying hard e — Shit! — enough to bring me off. Oh, fuck, I feel it building. Take a peek at her. God! She was looking and saw me peeking at her. Do I want to touch her? What makes me afraid of doing that? So what if I enjoy it. I wonder how different it would be from touching my own — oh, God! — puss? I know she wants me to. And she’s really nice. She says she won’t — fuck fuck fuck! — tell my — damn! — mom anything I do unless I — oh fuck! — might hur — crap! — hurt mysel — Shit! – myself, and she does — oh! — have nice ti

*******

“Oh… FUCK!” Erin screamed.

She was coming. Her hips bucked up and down as she moaned out the orgasm I had given her. I wondered if this would be enough to convince her to try other things. It certainly seemed she was having one hell of a climax.

My fingers stayed there, trying to glue themselves to her clit as I rode out the orgasm with her. Finally, she reached down and had to push my hand away.

“Can’t … can’t take it anymore … too sensitive, I guess,” she breathed. I’d had orgasms that good before and was happy she’d had one like that.

“Have you ever had to stop yourself from touching it because it grew too sensitive?” I asked, bringing my juice-covered fingers to my mouth and sucking them clean as she watched, mesmerized by what I was doing.

She shook her head.

“Now, do you believe me when I say it’s always better when someone else does the touching?”

She was breathing hard, as if she’d just run a mile or five. “Y… yeah… God, that was good!”

I leaned down close to her face to whisper to her and felt her tense up for some reason.

Oh, God. Is she going to kiss me? What’ll I do? And my stuff is in her mouth!

“Licking feels a hundred times better,” I said, wondering why she’d tensed up like that.

I sat back up. For some reason she looked a bit disappointed, though I didn’t know why. She’d just had what was probably the best orgasm of her young life. What was there to be disappointed about?

Getting up, I said, “Okay, now doing that to you has me really horny. So, if you want to watch you can, or you can go back in the pool, or even inside, but I’m going to get myself off now.”

“You don’t mind if I watch?” she asked.

“No, in fact, given only those three choices of things for you to do, that would be what I’d choose.”

I lay back and started playing with my nipples and squeezing my boobs. Then a hand sneaked down my belly to my pussy while the other remained behind on my tits.

I watched Erin. She was definitely interested in what she was seeing. My hand began a slow dance around my pussy, smearing the juices as I’d smeared hers. Again, I wondered what she was thinking as she watched me masturbate.

*******

I can’t believe she sucked all my stuff off her fingers! Then I thought she was going to kiss me! It’s weird. Part of me wanted her to, and part of me was shocked. Maybe I am a lesbo or bi or something. I mean, you were kinda wanting that kiss. And when she said I could go swimming or go inside rather than watch this, I knew right away what I wanted to do. And her tits are so pretty with those nipples that look like small raspberries. I wonder what they would taste like? God, Erin! Get ahold of yourself! This older girl starts talking about having sex, and you’re going ape-shit about it. God, I’m losing my fucking mind here! I’ve never wanted to do any sex stuff with a girl before. Okay, masturbating is different. Nobody else is touching you then. God, look how wet she is! Her fingers are like coated with her stuff! Okay, just look at her face. Shit! She’s looking at me. Well, now she’s looking at my pussy. She must be more of a lesbo than bi. I guess that’s cool. She didn’t do anything to me I didn’t say she could do. Speaking of doing things to me, that O was wild! I’ve never come like that before. I could get her to do that to me again if I want. Hell, I could get her to lick me if I want. I gotta admit that sounds kinda tempting. She said it was like a thousand times better than her touching me. Fuck! I’d die from that much pleasure! Oh, wow, I think she’s getting close. She’s squirming around enough. I wonder what she’d do if I leaned over and sucked her nipple? Should I? I mean, it’s just a nipple, and she was real nice to me and all. It’s probably like when I practice kiss my hand or something. No biggie. But would she think I wanted to do more if I did that? Yeah, probably. Maybe I shouldn’t. Of course, I could just tell her after she’s done that it doesn’t mean I want to do all that lesbo stuff. It would just be helping her get over the top. Okay, on the count of three… one… two…

*******

I was about to come when suddenly she stood up. I wondered if she had gotten embarrassed by watching me and had decided to go inside or something until I finished, but then she did something entirely unexpected.

Grabbing the same folded towel I had used to kneel on, she knelt beside me, leaned over, and took a nipple into her mouth. She started sucking it like a baby wanting milk.

That was it, all I needed in fact. I started coming like crazy. My pussy seemed to explode. I was so turned on by her actions, especially since she had seemed totally reluctant before. I wanted her to reach down and help me with her fingers, but she didn’t and I didn’t make an attempt to get her to. Taking things slowly would work best with Erin.

After I’d come, she looked at me and said, “That doesn’t mean I want to do other stuff. I just thought since you made me come so good that I would at least pay you back.”

“Erin, it’s not about paying people back. It’s about enjoying yourself and helping someone else enjoy herself. If you didn’t want to suck my nipples, you shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“You said you wanted to do sex things with me,” she said.

“Yes, but really what I mean is that I want you to decide to enjoy it. I want you to want to do it. That way you and I both will enjoy what we do together. I mean, it’s such a great opportunity, what with your mom gone all day and guaranteed to call before she comes home. But I don’t want you to do it just to make me happy. If we aren’t both happy, then I’m not happy. Understand?”

“I guess. Then you will still do this stuff if I want to do it?”

“Yes. What we do is up to you.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?” I said, needing to know the answer to this question.

“Sure.”

“Did you like watching me touch myself like that?”

“Yeah. You’re pretty, and I like your tits. The nipples look like small raspberries.”

“What about my pussy. I saw you looking at it while I masturbated.”

“I like it too, I guess. I just –”

“Just what?”

“I’m just afraid of being a les-buh… I mean a lesbian,” she said, catching herself before saying lesbo.

“First, you are who you are and what you are. I believe we are made that way from the beginning. It’s genetic. I doubt seriously you are a lesbian. Second, if anything, you’re probably bi, especially if you really enjoyed what we’ve done together today.”

“Is that bad?” she asked. I could see the worry in her face.

“Is what bad?”

“If I’m bi. Won’t people make fun of me?”

“Only if they know about it. And I’m not gonna tell anyone. Are you?”

“Does anyone know you’re bi?”

“Well, my two best friends and my aunt, and my mom, and –”

“Your MOM knows?” she asked, interrupting my list, which was probably a good thing.

“Yes, she knows.”

“Does it piss her off?”

“No, she’s bi too.”

“You’re shitting me! Your mom’s bi?”

“Yes. Don’t look so surprised, it’s a lot more common than you think.”

“And she doesn’t mind if you have sex with people, even other girls?”

“Not at all. She encourages me to be myself. She is fully aware of everything I do when it comes to sex,” I said.

“She knows you rub yourself?”

I laughed. “Of course. And I know she rubs herself too.”

“I wish my mom was like that,” she said.

I looked at her and thought the same thing. Not because I wanted to go to bed with her mom, though I wouldn’t turn it down — she was quite sexy — I wished her mom was more like mine because maybe Erin would be more accepting of her sexual tastes if that were the case. Then we could do a lot more than just jill off with each other, and she wouldn’t feel she was breaking some barrier by sucking my nipples.

I wanted Erin to be more like me.

“Do you think your mom would be upset if she knew we were doing this?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that one of the reasons you aren’t too keen on doing it?”

“No way. I do what I want. That’s why she hired you. To make sure I don’t do things I want to do that could get me in trouble.”

“Is there any way you could get into trouble for doing this?”

“Well, yeah. If she caught us.”

“And what chance is there of that?” I asked, working towards a point I wanted to make.

“Pretty well zero.”

“Okay, so listen. I want you to think about this stuff tonight when you go to bed. I want you to decide if you are bi and if so whether or not you want to try some things with me. I’ll be disappointed if you decide you are bi and don’t want to play around with me, but I don’t want you to decide to do that just to make me happy, okay? Like I said before, what we do is up to you.”

“Okay,” she said.

We got up and went back into the main house and lounged around watching TV and just relaxing for the rest of the day. We stayed naked, but we didn’t do anything sexual again, which was fine with me. Eventually, her mom called to ask if she needed to stop by the store for anything on her way home. I told her she didn’t and Erin and I got dressed. When Ms. Hartley got home, she didn’t suspect a thing.

Before leaving that day, I managed to mention to Erin to think about what I asked her to think about and let me know tomorrow what she had decided, if anything. I also told her that if it took more than one night to decide, that was fine, too. I just wanted her to be happy.

I went home hoping she would decide to fool around with me, of course, but I honestly would understand if she didn’t want to. I guess bisexuality isn’t for everyone.

*******

Erin lay in her bed that night thinking about what had transpired during the day. She was a bit disgusted at first when she found out Cheryl liked to do things with girls, more than just getting herself off. Then again, she had been a little disappointed when Cheryl hadn’t kissed her, even though the thought that her own juices from her puss were in Cheryl’s mouth had flashed through her mind at that moment when Cheryl had leaned over to her.

Erin began to wonder what her puss tasted like, exactly. Cheryl had seemed to love the taste of her own pussy juices. Was it possible? Could pussy cream actually taste good? As she lay in bed thinking about what they’d done, she had gotten wet, which made her wonder whether or not she also liked girls. Was that a sure sign she was bi? Now she wondered what would happen if she dipped her finger inside herself and tasted it.

Just a little bit, she thought to herself. Just enough to know what it tastes like. Turning on her bedside lamp, she reached down to her pussy, pushing her hand beneath the waistband of her panties and listening to make sure her mom wasn’t coming down the hall to her room. She dipped her middle finger inside her puss and was surprised to find she was totally wet down there. She got some of her spunk on her finger and lifted it to her face. It was clear for the most part, and kind of thick like honey, but not that thick. It was funny she hadn’t noticed that before. In fact, she’d barely paid attention, thinking it was just messy. She had always used a tissue to wipe it off or had washed her hands after. Now she was actually planning to taste it.

She held her wet finger to her nose and sniffed. It had a musky kind of smell to it, but not really unpleasant, just different. She’d noticed it before when she was sitting down, but hadn’t given it much thought. She took the tip of her tongue and touched it to her finger, getting the smallest amount possible on her tongue as a quick test to see if it tasted disgusting.

She barely tasted anything at all. Then deciding if she were going to taste it, she should just go for it, like taking a bad-tasting medicine, she plunged her slick finger into her mouth and sucked on it.

She was surprised to find that while it wasn’t the best tasting thing she’d ever put in her mouth, it was far from unpleasant. She reached down to her puss again, and got even more of her juices on her finger. Bringing it to her mouth, she immediately placed the finger inside again and lay there coming to grips with the idea that she liked it, especially when it was warm, as it was for the second taste.

She repeated this process several times before deciding to go ahead and get herself off for the third time that day and see if the flavor was any different when she had come.

Ten minutes later, she had her answer. It tasted about the same, and she realized she really, really liked it. Looking down at her bare pubes, she realized she was carrying this delicious honeypot with her wherever she went. She wanted to kick herself for being such a scared-y cat.

Then she began to wonder if Cheryl tasted the same as she did. Or was every girl different? Her mind wandered to thinking about her friend Julia, who had said a few things that suggested she had discovered masturbation. Erin wondered if she, too, liked the taste of her pussy-honey.

As she thought of Cheryl again, she realized maybe she was bisexual and didn’t know it until now. She was picturing her so-called companion naked and then she began to wonder what it would feel like to have Cheryl’s tongue on her pussy. That led to wondering what it would be like to put her own mouth on Cheryl’s pussy.

She decided she would stop being a baby and try it at least. She had tried tasting herself and that ended up good. So why not try sex with another girl?

Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. “No pun intended,” she whispered to herself, and giggled before turning her bedside lamp off and going to sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 43