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More Than Just Friends, Chapter 21

  • Posted on October 5, 2016 at 2:10 pm

By Jeneee

Unlike the last time we visited the gallery, Emily and Pamela didn’t race around looking at all the pictures on the walls, pointing and giggling while making loud and often raucous comments about each one. This time they heeded my advice — or command, if you like — to behave in a ladylike fashion, even though I am sure they were bursting at the seams to let loose with several appropriate words selected from their more than adequate vocabulary, pertaining to such displays of erotic art as those which now graced the walls of The Gallery Of Friends. Nevertheless, I still detected a few tightly restrained smirks from the girls as we watched them slowly make their way along the first wall of the exhibition, which was dedicated to the genitalia of very young female models as they developed from birth to about three years of age.

Sharon and I saw Maggie and Karen sitting at a large table they had set up toward the back of the gallery, presumably for Marilyn to meet and greet, and sign autographs, so we headed in that general direction as Emily and Pam started their tour.

Maggie smiled as she saw us approaching. “So, are the girls excited?” she asked, glancing at the two of them while they slowly made their way down the ‘Early Development’ wall, as the colorful title above the paintings hanging there identified that part of the collection.

That’s an understatement,” I laughed. “They’ve been on pins and needles ever since we received your invitation. They raced home from school today to get ready and be here as soon as you opened.”

“Well, they both look as if they put a lot of effort into dressing for the occasion. After all, the invitation did say to dress casually. If that is casual, I’d love to see them dressed for a more formal event,” Maggie laughed. “They look utterly divine,” she added. “Did you have any part to play in this, Karen?” she asked her sister.

Karen laughed. “Not me, but you might want to ask Becky. I think she’s been showing Pammy a thing or two about makeup. She’s taken much greater care with her own appearance since taking up with Elizabeth. She’s crazy about the girl. I’ve finally come to terms with the fact that both my daughters take after you, Maggie — lesbian to the core.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about Pammy yet, if I were you,” piped in Sharon. “Both her and Emily seem to have developed a curiosity about cocks – if you’ll let me use that word in your presence, ladies,” she giggled.

“Hmph,” exclaimed Karen. “I’ll have to get Becky to have a little talk with her sister, then. After what her father did to her, she may have a few wise words to say to Pammy.”

“I think she’s already had those few wise words, Karen,” I explained. “And according to Emily, that’s what inspired their interest. To put it into her words, both she and Pammy are dying to see what effect their ‘pussy portraits’ will have on any male viewers. I think both girls will have their eyes firmly glued to the pants of any fathers, sons or brothers here tonight, to detect any suspicious bulges that might, er, shall we say arise, so as to speak,” I giggled. “They’re even trying to work up enough courage to ask Marilyn if she’d consider doing a parallel series of paintings depicting the growth of the male sex organ from infancy to maturity,” I added, with a slight smirk on my face.

“Knowing Marilyn, there’s not much likelihood of that ever happening,” Maggie grunted. “Not after what happened in her family.” She caught the questioning looks on our faces. “Sorry, that’s not for me to discuss – I shouldn’t have said anything,” she added, guiltily.

“Will she and Elizabeth be here soon?” I quickly asked, trying to change the subject, but at the same time realizing too late that my question might be interpreted differently.

“They are coming in about half an hour, but please don’t…”

“Oh no, I wasn’t meaning that I’d be bringing that up,” I hurriedly clarified. “But we should tell Emily and Pam not to ask her if she’d do another series on males.”

“No, don’t do that,” Maggie replied. “Coming from those two she won’t take offence, and it will probably bring a smile to her face anyway. She’ll know how to handle it, and who knows, eventually Elizabeth will probably talk about what happened in the past as she gets to know the girls better. I’m sure she and Becky have already compared notes, anyway,” she added as an afterthought.

Knowing Becky as well as we did, I was sure Maggie was correct.

By now there were already several other visitors wandering around the gallery, some in pairs, others in groups that were probably the families of one or more of the models. The youngest I could see was a little girl of about three years old who looked rather bored with the whole scene — there with her older sister, who was probably about seven, and a couple who must have been their parents. They were standing in front of a pastel which I assumed depicted the older girl’s pussy, judging from the remarks we could overhear and from the smile on her face as she pointed at the work.

Emily and Pam had conveniently wandered over behind them, and Sharon and I could tell they were just dying to start talking to someone about the display.

“Is that your pussy?” my daughter asked the older girl as she leaned over and tapped her on the shoulder.

The girl’s father turned around to see who was asking and smiled when he saw Emily and Pammy. He nudged his daughter as if to say it was okay for her to answer and she nodded in response.

“Yes, it’s my cunny,” she smiled. “That’s what my mommy says to call it, anyway. Her and my daddy say mine is a cunny and my mommy’s is a pussy,” she added, giggling. “And my little sister’s is a kitty,” she said, putting her arms around the little three year old standing in front of her, who now also looked around to see Emily and Pam standing behind them. Both girls were very pretty and wore almost identical short, pink dresses and had their long, blond hair tied in pigtails with matching pink ribbons dangling from them.

“You and your little sister look so cute,” Pam told her. “What are your names?” she asked. “Mine is Pammy, and my girlfriend here is Emily,” she added by way of introduction, slipping her arm around Emily’s waist and giving her a little kiss on the cheek.

“I’m Amanda, and my little sister here is Susie,” the little girl replied. “She had her kitty done too,” she added, “but she’s not really that interested, ’cause she’s so young. It’s over on that wall with all the other little girls. And my mommy’s is behind you on that wall,” she said with a shy smile, pointing behind them. Emily and Pam turned around to look, but decided to wait until they reached that part of the exhibit to study it in more detail.

“Hey, that’s so cool,” Emily told her, smiling back at the young girl. “So your whole family posed for Marilyn? Just me and Pammy did, but my mommy and Sharon – that’s her girlfriend – didn’t, ’cause I guess Marilyn already had enough older women.”

“Well, yeah, we all posed, ‘cept not my daddy, silly. He doesn’t have a pussy,” Amanda giggled as her parents turned around again, now looking a little concerned by the direction in which the conversation seemed to be going.

“We know that,” said know-it-all Emily, somewhat haughtily. “He’s got a cock instead,” she said. And she leaned over whispering into Amanda’s ear, saying, “And I bet it gets all big and hard when he sees your pussy — sorry, I mean your cunny — doesn’t it?” she added with a giggle. Have you seen it?”

Amanda immediately blushed and looked away without replying, catching her daddy’s eye.

“Why don’t you show us your paintings?” the mother chimed in quickly — obviously having overheard Emily’s loud whisper — followed by a nod from the father, seemingly happy to see the subject of his cock being diverted.

“Yeah,” he suggested. “Oh, and you two sure dressed up for this occasion, didn’t you?” he smiled, as he looked each of them up and down. “You both look so beautiful. How old are you anyway? You look like you could be teenagers. And I love your outfits, and – and your makeup is so…”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” interrupted his wife, jabbing an elbow into his ribs to stop him from going any further.

“Thanks, but we’re both only eleven,” answered Pam, beaming with delight at the compliment. “We wanted to dress up, and our mommies said it was okay for tonight. But we don’t usually dress this way or wear makeup. And,” she added, pointing to her right, “I think our paintings are probably down this wall a bit further,” she told them. “We haven’t even seen them yet, ’cause we just got here a few minutes ago. Well, we did see them after they were done, of course, but not since they were framed and hung up here.”

“Let’s go look for them, then,” said Amanda, grabbing at Pam’s free hand and trying to drag her and Emily along. “You seen my cunny, so now I wanna go see yours!” she giggled.

“But we still didn’t get a real good look at yours,” chimed in Emily, as she stepped a bit closer to see Amanda’s pastel. “Mmm, it’s a pretty cunny you’ve got,” she told the little girl, subconsciously looking down at the hemline of Amanda’s short dress as if trying to see right through it to the real thing. “I remember when my pussy looked like that,” she added. “Come on then, let’s go find ours,” she giggled. “Of course, if you want to see them for real… oops, better not,” she quickly added, catching Pam’s eye and suddenly remembering that she’d been told to behave, and not sure how Amanda’s parents would react anyway.

Followed by Amanda’s mom and dad — who had now lifted Susie up in his arms because she seemed to be tiring quickly — Emily and Pam and their new little friend walked further down the gallery, passing pictures of other young girls on display until they finally found their own pastels.

“Here we are,” Emily said proudly. “This one’s mine and that’s Pammy’s.”

“Hmm,” exclaimed Amanda’s father. “You both look so sexy — I mean beautiful,” he quickly corrected himself as his wife frowned at him.

“Yes, dears, very pretty,” she told them, as Amanda stifled a giggle at her father’s remark.

“Showing off already, are you?” Sharon teased, startling the girls as we caught up with them in front of their pussy portraits.

Emily turned around and smiled at us. “Hey, Sharon. Hi, Mommy. This is Amanda and her sister, Susie, and they have their pictures here too, and that’s her mommy and daddy. Oh, and her mommy’s pussy is here too,” she blurted out in her customary way of trying to say everything at once.

“Please forgive my outspoken daughter,” I smiled, reaching out my hand to Amanda’s mother. “She and her friend are a little excited, as you can probably tell. I’m Jen, and this is my girlfriend, Sharon, by the way,” I added, as Sharon also reached out her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jen and Sharon. I’m Alice and this is my husband, Ted.” We all shook hands. “Marilyn is my sister, so she had some ready-made volunteer models in the family. How did you girls get chosen to pose?” she asked Emily and Pam.

“Maggie is my auntie,” explained Pam, “and my mommy is her partner in the gallery business, so that’s how come we’re here.”

“Yeah,” chimed in my daughter, “and like I said, Pammy is my girlfriend. I mean like my real, lover girlfriend,” she added, this time kissing Pam on the lips so there would not be any misunderstanding. “So Marilyn wanted both of us.”

“Told you they looked old enough to know a thing or two, didn’t I?” Ted said, smiling at his wife. “A little young to know you’re lesbians though, don’t you think?” he asked Emily.

“We’re not too young,” replied my daughter, sounding a little offended. “We’ve been girlfriends now for two years,” she added, proudly. “So we know what we like. And we like pussy, so there.”

“Emily!” I scolded, as Ted quickly put up his hands in self-defense.

“Okay, okay, sweetie. I’m sorry,” he apologized quickly. “I didn’t mean any offence,” he added with a smile. “There’s nothing wrong with liking pussy. After all, I sure do,” he grinned, looking over at his wife. “So, you’ve both seen Amanda’s pussy. Would you like to see her mommy’s now?” he asked, almost as a peace offering.

“Yeah, we sure would, then maybe you can see my mommy’s, too,” Emily blurted out without thinking, as Pammy gasped beside her. “Ooops, I meant…” and she went dead silent, completely lost for words.

Several seconds passed before everyone burst into gales of laughter as, for the second time in recent weeks, a blush deepened over my dear, sweet daughter’s face. Then we and our newfound friends crossed slowly over to the other side of the gallery to take a look at Alice’s pussy.

Continue on to Chapter 22

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 22

  • Posted on October 5, 2016 at 2:09 pm

By Jeneee

Alice’s portrait was a little larger than those on either side of it and beautifully framed. I guess being the artist’s sister has its privileges, I thought to myself with a chuckle. As with all the other works in this series, there was nothing in it to identify the model, but the painting was obviously that of a mature subject, the labia being well developed and slightly apart, revealing the glistening interior of what had to be an aroused pussy. I wonder what happened prior to that session, I chuckled to myself. The hood of her clit was very prominent, and in a way it reminded me of Pammy’s and Becky’s, even though the clit itself wasn’t visible. Marilyn had captured the gleaming delicate folds of the inner labia to perfection, and the smoothness of her labia majora and well-pronounced pubic mound indicated that Alice had either had a laser treatment or Marilyn had deliberately left out her sister’s pubes in the interest of creating a really special work of art. I was curious to find out which.

True to form, it was my daughter who spoke first to break the silence that had descended upon us as we all gazed in awe at Marilyn’s depiction of her sister. “That’s what yours is going to look like when you grow older, Pammy,” she told her. “Except I bet your clit will be poking out, as usual,” she giggled.

“Yeah,” Alice commented, “we noticed in your painting that your pussy is very well developed for a young girl and your clitoris was really protruding. Is it really that way, or did Marilyn paint it like that on purpose?” she asked, with a smile. Emily giggled and was about to answer for her girlfriend but Pam beat her to it, probably just as well.

“Well, it does poke out a lot. It’s been that way since I was a little girl, but we’d all been having a little fun — well, a lot of fun, really — at the time we posed, so it kinda, you know, showed up pretty good,” she replied.

“And her sister’s is like that too,” Emily chimed in. “She’s sixteen, so she’s back down that wall somewhere if you want to see hers, too,” she added, helpfully. “They both take after her Aunt Maggie more than their mommy, though.”

“Sweetie,” I told her, laughing, “you’re a wealth of information tonight, but I don’t think these people are interested in Pam’s family history.”

Alice laughed. “Oh, that’s okay, Jen, she’s only trying to be helpful. And talking about being helpful, Ted,” she said, turning to her husband, “it looks like Susie has fallen asleep in your arms. Why don’t you take her home and put her to bed. I’d like to stay here and wait until Marilyn arrives with Liz. Do you want to leave with daddy too, sweetheart?” she asked Amanda.

“Nooo, I want to stay here with you, Mommy. I wanna see Lizzy too,” Amanda pleaded, looking up at her mom with her hands held together as if she were praying. “Please, Mommy, can I stay?”

“Well, okay. Just don’t fall asleep on us,” Alice laughed. And she leaned over to plant a kiss on Susie’s cheek as her husband, somewhat reluctantly it seemed, turned to leave.

“Bye, daddy,” Amanda called to her father as he departed with her little sister. We all waved our good-byes to him, then turned back to Alice’s painting.

“Has Marilyn done many portraits of you and Amanda?” I asked Alice. “And Susie, too?” I added.

“Lots,” she replied. “I used to let her practice on me when she was a student, then when Amanda and Susie came along they became great subjects for her as well. They just loved posing for her. We have a few of our favorites hanging on the walls at home, some in the living room and a couple in the bedroom.”

“Are they all nudies?” Emily asked.

“Not all of them,” Alice replied with a smile, “but several are. We keep those in our bedroom, of course, and some of the girls’ paintings are in their rooms too.”

“She did some real hot ones of me and Pammy when we modeled for her,” Emily giggled. “You should see them.”

“I think those were meant to be private, sweetie,” I quickly interrupted before she went any further into exactly how hot those particular paintings were. Alice, however, was smiling knowingly, and I realized immediately that Marilyn had probably ventured in that direction with her own family, too.

At that moment, the conversation was thankfully interrupted by the artist herself, entering the gallery along with Elizabeth and Becky, both of whom looked absolutely stunning in their short dresses and high heels. So much for the casual look, I thought to myself as Pam ran over to hug her sister, while Marilyn joined Alice to walk over to the table to see Maggie and Karen, leaving Amanda behind with us.

“Oh Becky, you look gorgeous in that dress,” Pam told her sister.

“And she looks even better out of it,” laughed Elizabeth, winking at Becky. “And look at you, honey,” she said to Pam. “Looks like Becky taught you well. Your hair and makeup look so professional. Makes you look so much older. And wow, Emily, you too. You both look like movie stars.” Emily smiled with glee and took a bow.

“We just met your auntie Alice and your little cousin, Amanda. Also your even littler cousin — she’s so cute, but she fell asleep — and your uncle, but they just left so he could put Susie to bed,” Emily told Elizabeth. “And your mom did a great painting of your auntie’s pussy. We just saw it – the painting, I mean. It looks so sexy,” she giggled, once again trying to say as much as she could in her usual burst of run together sentences.

“You should see it for real,” Elizabeth replied, grinning. “It looks even better.” Emily gasped.

“All this talk of pussy is making me horny,” laughed Becky. “And I haven’t even seen the show yet. Who’s gonna take me on a tour?”

“I will,” Elizabeth told her, adding, “and you’re always horny, you little slut. I helped Mom and Maggie set up the display, so I can tell you all about it. And I made her put our pictures side by side, girlfriend,” she giggled.

“Can we come, too?” Emily asked. “We’ve been around once but it was kinda quick, but it would be cool to hear any stories you have about them – right, Pammy?” she smirked, as she nudged her girlfriend.

My ever curious daughter, I thought. Always looking for any juicy tidbits she can get her hands on – or should that be titbits, I smirked, thinking literally as well as figuratively. “I think we’ll leave you girls to yourselves, then. Sharon and I will go join the rest of the ladies at the greeting table,” I said, quickly grabbing my girlfriend’s hand and leading her away.

“What was that all about?” she asked me with a puzzled look on her face. “Think we’re not wanted or something?”

“Elizabeth might be more inclined to say more if we’re not there. She doesn’t know us that well yet and I must admit, I’m a bit curious about her family background.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sharon replied. “She seemed to get to know us pretty well at our hot tub party that day, after we first met her and her mom. I distinctly remember watching you give her pussy a good licking as Becky sat on her face on the deck. If that’s not getting to know someone well, I don’t know what is,” she reminded me with a smirk on her face.

“Well, yeah, I suppose. But everything was a blur that day once things got going, so I’m not sure she’d remember who was licking whom,” I laughed, remembering how delicious her sweet teenage pussy had tasted, and how horny I had become watching her lick and suck on Becky’s ample clit. “Kinda makes me horny even now, thinking about it,” I told Sharon, feeling my pussy start to moisten as the image came back to me. “Still, I think Emily might feel a bit more likely to try to drag more information out of her if I’m not there to keep saying ‘Emily!’ Know what I mean?”

“You have a real sneaky side to you, my dear girlfriend,” Sharon laughed. “Now I know where Emily gets it from.”

“You mean you never noticed before?” I replied, smiling. “I have my ways. Hi, ladies,” I said to the group around the greeting table, as we arrived. “We left the girls to hang with Elizabeth and Becky as they tour around again. They seem to be having fun, and I don’t think they need us adults tagging along.”

“What about Amanda?” Alice asked. “She must be getting a bit tired. Maybe I should go rescue her from them.”

I looked over and saw that Emily and Pam now had Amanda between them, holding on to her hands as they strolled down the Early Development wall. “Don’t worry, Alice,” I smiled. “She’s in good hands. They will look after her.”

“Well, she does seem to be enjoying herself, like she’s one of them. They all look so gorgeous together, don’t they? Like a group of models out for a party,” she smiled.

“Right,” I agreed, noticing the gallery starting to fill up with even more visitors. And I wondered just what kind of party might develop.

Continue on to Chapter 23

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 23

  • Posted on October 5, 2016 at 2:09 pm

By Jeneee

“What happened to your daddy, Elizabeth?” Emily suddenly asked, out of the blue.

They had all made their way slowly down the Early Development wall, where Amanda had proudly pointed out Susie’s little ‘kitty’ as she called it, hanging among a series of half a dozen or so other cute little baby to toddler-age pussies, all displaying the beautiful, seemingly oversized – in relation to the rest of the body, that is – pouting and puffy pudenda typical of that age group.

(As an aside at this time, if I may, I’d like to comment here on the word ‘pudendum,’ and its plural, ‘pudenda.’ It’s so typically representative of the attitudes over the centuries toward anything sexual pertaining to the human body. The word had its origin in the 17th century and was derived from another noun ‘pudeur’ which meant ‘a sense of shame or embarrassment, especially with regard to matters of a sexual or personal nature.’ So ‘pudenda’ really meant ‘parts to be ashamed of’ at that time. Its original meaning has long since been lost but nevertheless I’m voting that it now should mean ‘parts to be proud of and to enjoy.’ Makes more sense, don’t you think? So there you go – Jen’s lesson for the day – giggle.)

After leaving the Early Development display the little group, then moved on to what Maggie had appropriately termed The Childhood Cunnies, where Amanda had proudly pointed out her own painting with one hand while subconsciously cupping herself between her cute, colt-like legs with the other – something that Emily and Pam immediately noticed with a grin, jabbing each other in the ribs as they watched the little seven-year-old slip her hand underneath the hem of her short yellow dress to touch herself and then quickly remove it, realizing what she had done. The mere act of showing herself off, even if it was just with a picture, had caused that familiar tingle in her young pussy which was always a signal for it to be stroked.

“I think we need to give her a little help sometime, don’t you?” Emily had whispered into Pam’s ear when she saw what the little girl had done. “I think she’s getting horny,” she added with a giggle. Pam smiled and quickly nodded in agreement.

Following The Childhood Cunnies came what Maggie had humorously entitled The Tweenie Twats. This was where Emily’s and Pam’s paintings were found in all there delicious glory. As they all looked at their pussy portraits, both Emily and Pam simultaneously mimicked Amanda by briefly slipping their hands under their own dresses to slide their fingers quickly over their moistening naked cunts, bursting out in laughter as Becky and Elizabeth turned around to look at them, wondering what the joke was. Both teens shook their heads when they noticed what the girls were up to and, without saying anything, led the group on to the next section where their own portraits hung.

Simply called The Teens, this set featured a collection showing a variety of teenage pussies in what appeared to be various stages of arousal, expertly captured by the skill of the artist. Many featured wispy pubic hairs while some, like Becky’s and Elizabeth’s, were completely shaved. Almost all had that delicate dew of arousal plainly visible on their labia, while a couple, Becky’s included, showed an enlarged clit protruding from its sheath accompanied by, in Becky’s case at least, an obvious drop of white, creamy girl cum resting sensuously between her slightly open inner labia. Elizabeth, who was present at Becky’s sitting, had obviously played a significant role in preparing her girlfriend for her mother to paint. After the work was completed it is a safe bet that the fun continued.

Emily’s question had caught Elizabeth by surprise. “What did you say?” she asked.

“What happened to your daddy?” Emily repeated. “I know you told us he kind of got your mommy started doing sexy pictures of you that day he sat you on his lap and spread your legs, showing off your panties and daring your mom to paint you like that. But you and your mommy never seem to have talked about him since then and we’ve never met him and he doesn’t seem to be living with you anymore, like my daddy isn’t with us either,” she finished, all in one breath.

Elizabeth looked back at Emily, as if thinking, then over at Becky, then back to Emily.

Becky slipped her arm around Elizabeth’s waist. “It’s not really the time, Emily, it’s really kinda private and…”

“No, Becky, it’s okay. I was expecting to be asked sometime and I’m a bit surprised it’s taken you so long, Emily, knowing you and your curiosity,” she replied, smiling slightly. “But it’s a long story and I don’t want to go into it here, in public. Becky knows some of it, but even she doesn’t know the whole thing,” she added, turning to look at her girlfriend who murmured something about not wanting to pry too deeply.

Looking around at the ever increasing crowd in the gallery, Elizabeth suggested they all move into the back classroom where it was more private. She was resolved to explain everything to her friends, even if it was still a bit upsetting, but now was as good a time as ever.

Because the gallery was quite crowded, the group was able to slip into the back room unnoticed by everyone. There were several chairs along one wall, but Elizabeth grabbed a couple of floor rugs, blankets and cushions used by the models during class and spread them up against another wall so that everyone could settle down more comfortably. Shoes were removed and legs tucked up in relaxing positions, while Amanda, who was starting to get sleepy, cuddled on Emily’s lap and rested her head against her shoulder with a contented sigh, as Pammy snuggled up beside them.

Once everyone had settled, they all looked at Elizabeth in expectation. They were not to be disappointed.

“This will probably be a bit awkward for me at times, and I may need to pause,” she began, “but please let me tell you what happened as best as I can before you ask any questions. Okay?”

Everyone nodded. Even Emily’s face took on a serious look as she slowly stroked Amanda’s hair as the little girl started to fall asleep, cuddling warmly against her in her lap. Emily’s dress, short as it was, had crept up higher on her thighs by now and she was sure her pussy could be seen if anyone was looking. So what, she thought to herself, smiling slightly. They’ve all seen it before anyway.

Elizabeth gave a little cough, and began. “First of all, I’m not sure my mom would agree to me telling you everything but I feel I have to get it off my chest anyway, so it’s my responsibility and I’ll take whatever shit she decides to throw at me. I think she suspects I’ve already told Becky a few things, but she hasn’t said anything. You all met my aunt and uncle tonight and they know everything anyway, but please don’t say anything to anybody about what I’m about to tell you. Okay?” Everyone nodded once more.

“Well, here goes. As you know, I was quite young when I sat on my daddy’s lap that day it all started, and I was so proud when Mom painted that picture for him and then hung it on the wall in their bedroom. After that, she continued to use me as a model and I just loved the attention, and loved watching my father’s face whenever he came home to see another painting my mom had done of me. Pretty soon my panties came off and the pictures she did, some drawn and some painted, were all mostly nudes in various positions and poses, and it just seemed normal to me to see myself depicted in that way. In fact, I got used to running around the house naked all the time, and kept having to be reminded not to answer the door that way or to stand in front of a window. And we had a big picture window in our living room, so Mom eventually got to where she’d keep the blinds closed most days when I was home from school.

“Things went on that way for a couple of years, and now that I look back on it I can see my poses became more and more sensual and erotic. When I was around eight years old, Mom had me doing things like getting on my hands and knees with my butt sticking up in the air, my pussy and asshole on full display, usually with me looking back with a cheeky smile on my face. Eventually, they progressed to me spreading open my pussy, or putting a finger over my clit, sticking out my tongue. It was all such fun for me and I got to love touching myself like that, and I could see my father enjoyed seeing them, too.

“One day, just before my ninth birthday – it was a Saturday and Mom had a class to teach, so she had left me home with my father – he told me he was having a friend of his come and visit for the afternoon and that I should stay in my bedroom for a while. They were going to watch some ballgame on television so I started playing in my room with some of my dolls and things. About an hour after the guy arrived I had to go pee and when I’d finished I peeked downstairs to see where they were, because I wanted to go get a drink from the kitchen. I didn’t hear anything at first, not even the ballgame – I guess they’d muted the sound – so I crept downstairs and saw them on the couch together. I couldn’t understand what they were doing at the time, but I saw my dad had a whole pile of my mom’s paintings of me on the coffee table and the guy was holding one of them in his hand as my dad was doing something that seemed so weird to me at that age.

“The guy’s shorts were down past his knees and what I soon learned was his cock was in my dad’s hand and he was rubbing it up and down. I heard my dad say ‘isn’t she a sexy little slut’ – I distinctly remember his words, but they didn’t mean anything to me at the time, of course – and then the guy groaned and all this white stuff shot out of him all over the place and drooled down his cock. I was frozen on the spot and couldn’t move as I watched my father lean down and lick it off. Then I just turned around and crept back upstairs, not bothering with getting a drink.”

By this time, Emily and Pam were both spellbound from hearing Elizabeth’s story. Emily was dying to interrupt, but remembered they were not supposed to say anything until she had finished. Emily also realized that hearing Elizabeth’s description of what she saw was beginning to create that all too familiar feeling in her pussy, and she knew she was starting to get very wet. She squirmed a little, trying not to disturb Amanda, and realized she was subconsciously gently caressing the little girl as she slept, her hand having slipped beneath the yellow dress to stroke her warm, soft bottom through her panties. Amanda shifted slightly, making a little moaning sound in her sleep as Emily’s hand was now able to reach between her cheeks to the surface of the puffy treasure of her warm little cunny, which she now slowly and almost absentmindedly proceeded to caress as Elizabeth continued her story.

“The next day was Sunday,” Elizabeth continued, “and Dad went out golfing with his friends. At least, that’s what he told us. My mother, being the perceptive person that she is, knew something was bothering me and she finally pried the whole story out of me. Her reaction was one of anger at first – I’d never seen her that angry before – then she started to cry and that’s when I hugged her realizing my father must have done something really bad. Then I heard her say, almost to herself, that well at least it isn’t another woman, and then she hugged me really tightly so I could hardly breathe.

“She eventually stopped crying and looked at me with teary eyes. I remember telling her I loved her ’cause I instinctively knew she needed to hear it — call it little girl intuition, I guess — and she leaned over and kissed me softly on my lips. I threw my arms around her neck and kissed her back. I remember it was a long kiss that slowly became more intense and she shifted me in her lap so that I was straddling her. Remember, I was naked as usual.

“Pretty soon I felt her hands caressing my little butt and I kind of rose slightly in her lap so she could reach better, ’cause I remember how good it felt. She began kissing me even harder and her tongue forced my lips apart and slipped into my mouth. This felt even more wonderful to me, especially now that her fingers had spread my butt cheeks and were now tickling my pussy from behind. I had never felt so good in my life before. My pussy tingled. I could feel it getting wet. The strange feelings in my body seemed to spread and my tummy felt so incredible. I wasn’t sure what was happening.

“Suddenly she stopped kissing my mouth and raised me up higher, sliding her tongue over my chest and my little nipples, which I could feel were then hardening into tiny points. She continued to slowly work her way down over my tummy, licking my belly button and finally reaching my pussy. When the tip of her tongue touched what I now know was my clit I was in heaven, delirious with the new and uncontrollable feelings that were spreading throughout my body. I couldn’t understand it. I remember feeling like I was going to explode, or that I was going to pee real hard. My mind was trying to come to grips with what was going on, but it couldn’t. I finally gave up, feeling ripple after ripple surge through my body as I crushed my pussy hard against my mother’s mouth and just let everything happen.

“It was the most wonderful moment in my life up to that point, and when I thought back on it as I grew older I realized that my mom must have been as horny as I was, yet resisted pursuing her own satisfaction. I’m sure it was her way of showing me how much she loved me in view of feeling betrayed by my dad. We still had our love.

“Later, after things had cooled down a little, she explained that sometimes mommies and their daughters can show their love for each other in the way that we had just done, and that sometimes mommies can also have other girlfriends to share their feelings with.

“That’s when I told her that maybe that’s what Dad had been doing with his friend then, and I remember how shocked she appeared when I said that. She hugged me again with tears in her eyes, telling me how smart her little girl was to say that. Later, when my father came home, she didn’t say anything to him about what I’d seen, at least, not with me around anyway. But after I’d gone to bed they had it out.

“Their relationship continued, somewhat strained, for another two years — but things seemed to be kind of normal once again. My mother had accepted that her husband was bisexual, and as long as it didn’t affect our family life to any great extent, she was willing to put up with it. After all, she’d also discovered in the process that she was bi, too, and mom and I continued to have an ongoing mother/daughter sexual relationship, unknown to my dad, of course — at least, so we thought. I continued posing for her in sexier ways, often teasing her and leading up to some really intense lovemaking sessions. I learned a lot about pleasing another woman.

“But, and this is where it gets difficult,” she paused a little as she tried to get a grip on herself, “things soon changed. I’m going to go through this quickly. I just want to finish the story, okay? It turned out that my dad’s boyfriend also had a younger friend who was only thirteen years old. They had been playing around together for almost a year before he told the kid about his relationship with my father. This boy had thought all along that he himself was gay, but confessed to my dad’s boyfriend that he wasn’t sure and wanted to find out for once and for all. So they plotted to bring him over to our house one day when my mother was again out at an art session. My dad again told me we were having company and the three of them showed up. The kid was introduced to me – I was dressed, this time – and then they showed him some of my pictures.

“Well, I was eleven at the time, same age as you and Pam, Emily,” she said, looking at Emily and noticing how cozy she was with Amanda at the same time. A little smile touched her lips, but didn’t last for long. “The kid got horny and my dad and his boyfriend pulled down his pants, and once again I had a first-hand look at a hard cock. It was literally throbbing and sticking straight up in front of me.

“He raped me. They raped me. They held me, while he stripped off all my clothes and my dad and his friend held me open for him. I was screaming.” And here, tears started streaming down her face. Becky quickly grabbed her but Elizabeth pushed her away.

“No, I gotta finish,” she sobbed. “My daddy, who I’d loved so much, held me tightly down by my shoulders as this prick fucked me and fucked me hard. As this was happening he told me he knew me and my mom were having a sexual relationship, and that it was about time I learned about making it with a boy. I was only eleven, only eleven, for god’s sake. Thank heaven I passed out.”

She paused once again, trying to calm herself. This time she didn’t push Becky away when she hugged her tightly. Emily and Pam were now also quietly crying, holding each other as they both felt the pain that Elizabeth must have endured.

“So, now you know what happened to my dad, Emily. They left me unconscious on the floor while he packed up his belongings and left the house, permanently this time. My mom came home and found me lying there, trying to regain my senses as I sobbed in her arms, telling her what had happened. I was torn apart inside, had to go to the hospital. It was reported and eventually they found the three of them and arrested them. They all went to jail, of course, and I don’t even know if they are out yet and I don’t give a fucking shit. We moved far away, changed our names and started a new life together. It took a few years for me to heal emotionally, but I recovered pretty quickly physically at least. I’ve dealt with it and put it out of my mind. My mom will never talk about it. I’m sure she just wants to remember the good side of my father, to avoid the hurt the other side must have caused her. And I don’t hate all men. My uncle is okay. My aunt has him under his thumb, anyway, as you might have noticed,” she giggled, wiping away the remnants of her tears.

She looked at Becky and smiled at her girlfriend. “Becky’s told me a lot about her dad and what happened to her, and almost to you, Pammy. I’m so glad we all met, ’cause I know we can all be good friends…”

“… and lovers,” finished Emily with a teary smile. Amanda now stirred in her arms and opened her eyes with a yawn. Emily hugged her. “Wake up, sleepyhead. It’s almost time to go home to bed,” she laughed, as she gently tickled the little girl in the ribs.

The four of them put on their shoes and stood up, and Emily lifted Amanda up and placed her in her cousin’s arms. “Here’s a little present for you, Elizabeth,” she smiled. “She’s so adorable, and I know we can be good friends.”

“…and lovers, too,” Elizabeth quoted. “I noticed what you two were up to. Well, what you were up to, anyway. It’s kinda sweet, don’t you think?” Elizabeth smiled, turning to Becky.

Becky nodded and leaned over to kiss her girlfriend on the lips. “Very sweet, indeed,” she laughed as the five of them turned to go back into the gallery to partake in the refreshments that were being served.

Continue on to Chapter 24

More Than Just Friends, Chapter 24

  • Posted on October 5, 2016 at 2:09 pm

By Jeneee

The gallery was now crowded with visitors, most of whom had already made the rounds and taken in the delights of Marilyn’s artistic and somewhat erotic pussy portraits, and were now standing around in groups chatting, smiling, laughing at each other’s jokes while helping themselves to the abundant refreshments that had been provided by their hosts.

Just as I was wondering what had happened to my own group of models, I saw them emerge from the back classroom and edge their way out slowly to mingle with the other visitors. The somewhat somber expressions on their faces puzzled me, especially when compared to the jovial atmosphere around them.

“Something’s happened in there,” I told Sharon, frowning. “Look at their faces.”

“Yeah, they do look kinda serious, don’t they?” she replied, somewhat curiously. “Perhaps you were right. Maybe Elizabeth did fill them in on something. And whatever it was, it seems to have troubled them. Shall we go investigate? After all, they are supposed to be having fun tonight. ‘Belles of the ball’ and that kinda thing, you know?”

I pondered her suggestion for a few seconds but then shook my head. “No, let’s just go over and see if they’d like to get something to eat or drink. I’m sure the girls will fill us in whenever they get the chance. But somehow, I don’t think it will happen in public.”

“Hey, superstars,” I smiled as we approached them. “We thought you’d got lost somewhere, or been kidnapped by some of your fans. Come on over to the refreshment table. There’s still a lot to eat and drink. But it’s going fast.”

“Yeah,” echoed Sharon. “But stay away from those yummy desserts. Might spoil those slim figures of yours,” she giggled, placing her hands on her hips and doing a bit of a bump and grind. “Know what I mean?”

That brought a smile to Emily’s face and she replied in her traditional way by sticking out her tongue. “I like yummy, creamy desserts, don’t you Pammy?” she asked her girlfriend with a sly wink.

“We know what kind of creamy desserts you two like,” chimed in Becky. “Don’t we, Liz?” she teased, slipping her arm around Elizabeth’s waist.

“Right,” Elizabeth replied. “And there’s plenty of them hanging on the walls,” she added, grinning broadly.

“I was referring to the desserts on the refreshment table,” Sharon retorted, “as if you lot didn’t know. Aren’t any of you hungry? For food, I mean,” she quickly added before any other smart remarks could be interjected.

I’m hungry,” said Amanda, who seemed to be wide awake again, after her brief snooze on Emily’s lap.

“Well, go help yourself, sweetie,” I told her, “before it’s all gone.”

“Yeah, come on Amanda,” said Emily, taking hold of the little girl’s hand. “I’ll take you over and help you choose something yummy.” Looking at the two of them strolling over to the table I couldn’t help thinking to myself, Yeah, and it looks like you’ve found yourself something yummy too, oh daughter of mine. The others fell in line and followed them over.

“Guess they were hungry, after all,” I chuckled to Susan as we watched our parade of would-be stars pick at what was left and munch away. “So, what do you think, hon?” I continued. “Shall we suggest we all head back to our place after? I sense an interesting update coming our way.”

She laughed. “What, you psychic all of a sudden?”

“Well, you know Emily. Hard for her to hold her tongue.”

“Yeah, but they may have been pledged to secrecy. You never know.”

“Only one way to find out,” I retorted, still determined to try.

We had to clear it with Marilyn and Alice, of course, but an hour later saw a rather large party of girls of all ages traipsing into our friendly house to finish the evening’s festivities with the promise of an enjoyable sleepover. The girls of all ages included Sharon and myself, naturally, but also Marilyn, who had pledged to her sister to make sure that Amanda behaved herself. Alice decided that she had better go home to be with her husband and younger daughter, just to make sure everything was okay, which caused Sharon and I to exchange glances of curiosity as to what exactly she meant by ‘okay,’ and Karen and Maggie passed on the offer, both claiming to be exhausted from preparing and hosting the successful evening’s event.

“Where’s everyone going to sleep?” was the first thing out of Emily’s mouth as we all made our way through the front door into our cozy house, which was about to become even more cozy as we squeezed against each other in our narrow hallway.

“Thinking about sleep already?” Sharon teased. “Is our little star worn out from her first public appearance?” she added, putting an arm around Emily’s shoulder and hugging her tightly, feeling the young girl wobble a little on her high heels.

My daughter replied in her usual manner by sticking out her tongue, a gesture which caused peals of laughter from little Amanda who, even though she’d fallen asleep during the drive home, now seemed wide awake again and excited to be part of a group of older girls, happy that she hadn’t been sent home with her mother.

“We’ll work out sleeping arrangements for everyone, don’t worry,” I replied. “We’ve got a few sleeping bags upstairs, so I’m sure everyone will be comfortable once we settle in. So who’s ready for bed, anyway?” I asked, as we entered the living room. “Anyone have any room left for a bedtime snack first, or are you all stuffed from all the goodies you ate at the studio?”

“Don’t know about you,” Sharon replied, “but I’m ready for a glass of wine and maybe some cheese and crackers.”

“Skip the crackers,” Elizabeth said, smiling at Sharon, before glancing somewhat cautiously over at her mother, “just wine for me.”

“Yeah, me too,” added Becky, throwing her arms around her girlfriend. “Let’s all have some fun,” she giggled.

“You’re not old enough to drink yet,” I protested — somewhat weakly, I must admit — as Sharon smirked a little when Becky glanced her way. I knew Becky had indulged a little when she shared Sharon’s apartment a couple of years before, so it was pointless to refuse the young teen. Besides, I thought, a little wine would do wonders to loosen lips and maybe allow a little bit of Elizabeth’s past to be revealed to Sharon and me, something I’m sure the rest of them had already been made aware of during their time alone at the gallery that evening. I still wasn’t sure how far Marilyn would let things go if the girls did start to open up, but I hoped a little wine might make her feel more comfortable at least.

“Are you models going to change into something more comfortable while we get the refreshments ready?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder as Sharon and I made our way into the kitchen.

Pam and Emily both jumped up, once again wobbling on their heels, and slowly made their way up the stairs to Emily’s bedroom, while Becky and Elizabeth shrugged, Becky pointing out that Elizabeth had nothing to change into anyway so they would stay as they were. “We can find robes for you if you like,” I suggested. “You too, Marilyn, if you want,” I added, smiling at the artist.

“Well thanks, but maybe later,” she replied, settling down on the couch beside her daughter and Becky, both of whom had already snuggled comfortably together. As Amanda climbed onto Marilyn’s lap, Sharon and I entered the kitchen to prepare the goodies for the second half of our party evening.

“You’re such a devil,” I told my girlfriend, as she grabbed a bottle of Merlot, while I started to slice some cheese onto a large platter, adding a packet of tasty crackers to the mix, along with some sodas for the girls. “And you call me sneaky,” I giggled. “You want to hear what happened as much as I do,” I added, squeezing one of her cheeks playfully.

“Naturally,” she replied, wiggling her ass back into my palm. “I’m just as curious as you are. Why shouldn’t I be?”

“Yeah, but with Amanda here, too, I’m not sure how far Marilyn will let things go, even if Elizabeth starts to open up.”

“Well, if we’re lucky, she may fall asleep on Marilyn’s lap anyway. She must be so tired from the excitement of the evening,” I added, hopefully.

On returning to the living room we saw right away that Amanda had indeed already fallen asleep on Marilyn’s lap, legs immodestly askew, head resting on her auntie’s shoulder. Her position had caused her dress to ride up and her cute little panties to cling tightly to her puffy mound, slipping slightly between her plump pussy lips, Marilyn’s hands clasping her tummy so that the little girl did not slip from her grasp.

I smiled. “Well isn’t that a cozy looking picture,” I remarked, thinking back to the pastel Marilyn had created of Amanda’s naked treasure that hung on the wall in the studio. “Even drawing one of her like that would be erotic,” I suggested to Marilyn with a wink.

“Yeah,” she replied, “but you’ve got to admit that this is even more enticing,” she giggled, reaching down and slipping the crotch of Amanda’s panties to the side, exposing her pretty lips to us.

At that moment Emily and Pam came down the stairs to join us, having changed. They were now barefoot, wearing only long tee shirts — probably naked underneath, I suspected, knowing them.

“Wowsie, Pammy,” Emily exclaimed. “Look at Amanda’s cute little cunt. Now we’ve seen it in the flesh, so as to speak,” she giggled, remembering caressing the little girl in the back room of the studio as she’d fallen asleep against her while Elizabeth was telling them about her past. “It’s so cute, don’t you think?”

And to everyone’s surprise, although I should have suspected it, she knelt down in front of Marilyn and pressed her mouth against the little girl’s pussy, giving it a gentle lick as she stared up into the artist’s face, hoping she wouldn’t disapprove. As you may have guessed, she didn’t. Amanda merely sighed in her sleep and snuggled her head closely against her auntie’s neck as the pleasurable feelings in her pussy no doubt invaded her dreams.

As everyone looked on, almost spellbound, I decided to interrupt this little display of affection before Amanda woke. “Wine and cheese with crackers, anyone? Or are you all developing a different kind of appetite?” I teased, admittedly feeling myself becoming aroused at my daughter’s antics.

I plunked the tray down on the table Sharon had set up between the love seat and the couch where the older girls and Marilyn had settled, and loudly popped the cork of the Merlot, immediately diverting the attention of our two teens away from Emily’s ministrations to Amanda, and even causing my daughter to peer over her shoulder with a sly grin on her face as she licked her lips.

“Hmmm,” she pondered aloud. “I wonder what would taste better, Amanda’s pussy or the wine.”

“Emily!” I scolded as Pam immediately tugged her girlfriend to her feet, pulling her close and kissing her.

“Mmmm,” she exclaimed, tasting Amanda’s fragrance lingering on Emily’s lips. “Somehow I’d vote for Amanda,” she giggled. “But I’m all for comparing,” she announced with a sly grin on her face as she grabbed Emily’s hand and walked her over toward the wine table.

“Sorry, girls,” I chided them. “This is for us older folks, but there’s sodas for you if you like.”

As Emily and Pamela groaned, Elizabeth and Becky sidled up to the table smirking at the two young girls. Emily, as expected, stuck her tongue out at the teens while Pam picked up a soda and winked at her elder sister, a wink that I caught and understood to mean ‘you’re going to sneak me a sip, right?’ Sisters have to look out for each other, after all.

I then relieved Marilyn of her little bundle of joy so that she, too, could pour a glass of wine and enjoy some cheese and crackers, plunking myself down on the love seat as Amanda groaned a little in her sleep, and then snuggled up against me. It wasn’t long before everyone was settled, either sipping Merlot or sodas – and yes, I noticed Becky quickly pour a little of her wine into Pam’s drink, sneaking a look at me to see if I witnessed her sisterly act of kindness. I leveled my fiercest glare at her but, even though I tried hard not to, it quickly turned into a resigned smile. It wasn’t long before Elizabeth similarly laced Emily’s soda, much to her satisfaction.

Well, dear reader, we are rapidly approaching the end of this epic, and as you might imagine, it wasn’t long before the same story the girls had heard in the back classroom at the studio came out in dribs and drabs as the bottle of Merlot was emptied, replaced by another, and emptied again. Little Amanda’s warm body remained snuggled against me, completely oblivious to all details we heard about how her older cousin was molested and raped by her father and his friends. It was a testament to Elizabeth’s fortitude that she was able to go on with her life with the help of her mother. The respect I held for Marilyn doubled that evening. Needless to say, a few more tears were shred by all of us before the night was over.

As my young daughter and her girlfriend climbed the stairs to their bedroom at the end of the evening, she leaned lovingly on me and confided, “Mommy, I think men are disgusting, and they better keep their cocks to themselves whenever they are around me.”

Pam heard her and nodded, grasping tightly onto Emily’s hand. “And me too,” she added, her cheeks still stained with tears as flashes of memories with her own daddy flitted through her mind.

I smiled as I hugged my little girl tightly and thought to myself that even though they felt that way now, they’d probably eventually mellow as they grew older. But at least for now, any fears I had about my little girl becoming pregnant could be put to sleep.

Love would win out in the end, as it usually does. And love is often found in places you least expect it. You never know when you will find someone with whom you can be more than just friends.

THE END

The great escape.