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Cinderella

  • Posted on December 31, 2017 at 7:02 am

By MargaretSexyMum

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in October 2013 }

Cinderella has been an unhappy little girl since her beloved mother passed away when she was very young and her father remarried. He departed some time afterwards, leaving the child in the care of her evil stepmother and two older stepsisters. They did not have Cinderella’s interests at heart and abused the poor girl. Cinderella was required to do all the domestic chores in the house, and was also on call to service her stepmother and sisters whenever they demanded it.

They treat the eleven-year-old as their personal sex slave, and have done so since she was only six. From the time they wake in the morning till they retire for the evening, Cinderella is required to pleasure them whenever they require — and the three horny females require it a lot. The sweet, obedient girl uses her mouth and a collection of sex toys to sate her stepmother’s and stepsisters’ perverted desires.

Cinderella doesn’t really mind performing these acts, because after all her real mother had taught her how girls could make each other feel good by touching their most intimate places. It was just that her stepmother and stepsisters were so ugly and had such poor personal hygiene, and they never even tried return the favor and make her feel good.

Every night Cinderella dreams of escaping her dreary existence and meeting a beautiful girl to spend the rest of her life with. One day her heart leaps when an invitation arrives to a Grand Ball. But she is heartbroken when her stepmother tells her the invitation is not for her, and that she will have to stay at home while they go to the Ball.

That night when the others are asleep and Cinderella is weeping in her room, a fairy godmother appears and assures the girl that she will go to the Ball. But the grey-haired fairy warns her that she must leave the Ball before the clock strikes midnight or her beautiful gown will turn into her normal rags and her clean hair and flawless complexion will return to their usual grubby state.

On the day of the Ball, Cinderella assists her stepmother and sisters with their toilette and to get dressed in their gowns. After they have departed for the Ball the fairy godmother helps Cinderella get ready. She primps and bathes the young girl. The naughty fairy takes her time as she washes the girl all over, even though Cinderella is old enough to bathe herself. The fairy’s fingers probe into places of the young girl’s body that haven’t been touched for a very long time. Cinderella throws back her head and squeals as the fairy massages the tiny nub of her clitoris, bringing her to climax.

When she climbs out of the bath, the fairy godmother dresses Cinderella in a very short white gown that shows off her long coltish legs and barely covers her bottom. The bodice of the dress is very tight, the material almost completely sheer. It hugs her thin frame and shows off the tiny buds blossoming on her chest which are topped with pretty pink nipples. Her legs are bare except for the pair of glass slippers she wears, showing off her perfectly manicured feet, her toenails painted a bright cherry red.

“But fairy godmother,” the girl says nervously, “I thought ball gowns were supposed to be floor length…? This one barely covers my coochie, and everyone will be able to see my boobies!”

The fairy smiles sweetly, “Normally dresses are longer and more demure, my dear, but we want the Princess to notice you, don’t we? I am sure she will notice you in this dress. In fact I am willing the bet she won’t be able to keep her eyes — and hands — off you!”

The fairy hands Cinderella a pair of lace panties to wear under her skirt. When the girl pulls them up, she feels that they are very loose.

“Fairy godmother, these underpants are pretty… but I don’t think they fit very well. They are almost falling off.”

“Don’t fret, sweetie, it is all part of the plan,” the fairy assures her.

*     *     *

The moment Cinderella enters the ballroom, all eyes turn to her. The men and the women all secretly lust after the sweet and sexy little nymphet.

When the beautiful and elegant teenage Princess lays eyes on Cinderella, she is immediately smitten and makes her way straight across to her before anyone else has a chance to talk to the young girl. She takes Cinderella’s delicate hand and leads her to the dance floor.

They begin a slow dance, the much taller Princess laying Cinderella’s cheek against her chest and putting her hands on the girl’s bottom as they sway to the music while the other guests gape at the two beauties. The Princess’ roving hands sneak under Cinderella’s short gown to caress her lace-covered bum cheeks. Cinderella is thrilled to feel the older girl’s hands on her bottom, not only because it feels so nice, but because they also help to keep her loose underpants from sliding down around her ankles.

The pair spend the whole evening dancing and talking… and quickly falling in love. As the night grows late, the two girls are sitting in a corner kissing open-mouthed, the Princess gently stroking her new child lover’s cleft through her delicate lace knickers — and then the clock strikes midnight.

Hearing the chimes, Cinderella rises and after a longing look at the beautiful Princess turns and rushes toward the door. As she runs, she stumbles and her loose underpants slide down her legs, causing her to kick them off so she won’t trip and fall.

The Princess watches in shock as Cinderella races for the door, her short skirt flapping up and exposing the young girl’s lovely bare bottom. Then the teenager walks slowly to the middle of the room where she bends down to pick up Cinderella’s discarded underwear, raising the delicate material to her nose to inhale the child’s innocent but slightly musky scent. She also sees a wet spot where she’d been caressing the saucy minx’s slit through the gusset of her undies.

It had been love and lust at first sight for the Princess. The mysterious little nymph had stolen her heart from the moment she saw her entering the ballroom dressed in that scandalous gown. Her desire for the adorable child was overwhelming, and she wanted her in her bed.

With Cinderella gone, the Princess turns to the Queen. “That is the one I want, Mother, more than any other. That pretty little girl in the short dress. I want her for my bride.”

The Queen dotes on her beautiful but headstrong and passionate daughter, and has always accepted her sexual preference which became apparent at an early age. She also has enacted laws to enable women in their Kingdom to wed one another. Although these laws at first had scandalized many of her subjects, over time lesbian couples had begun coming forward to publicly pledge their love and be married.

But never in the Queen’s wildest dreams would she have imagined that her precious daughter would want to wed an underage girl — one who was practically still a child — no matter how desirable she might be. And the Queen did have to admit that the pretty little pixie was delicious. She had thought to herself while watching the girl and her daughter dancing together that she wouldn’t have minded having Cinderella as a whore in her own bed.

The Queen turns to her daughter and says thoughtfully, “But, my darling, she is still only a child. Don’t you want a girl more your own age?”

“Mother, you know I like young girls. You have seen me sharing my bed with the Lady in Waiting’s two daughters, and they are much younger than Cinderella. One is six and the other is seven. We weren’t just sleeping in the same bed, you know, I seduced both of them. They were yummy. Cinderella is eleven years old, she is almost ready to flower into a woman.”

The Queen knows she will never win this argument. “Well, all right, dear. Except I don’t know who the girl is, or how she was invited. I have never seen her before.”

“Then we must find her!” the Princess demands, petulantly stamping her feet. “I want us to be married. Can’t I have her? Please, please, pretty please?”

*     *     *

The Queen, who cannot resist any entreaty of her beautiful daughter, orders a search of the Kingdom to find the mysterious nymphet. The task is made difficult as the only clue they have is the child’s discarded lace panties. The Princess does not let this prized treasure out of her possession. She sniffs the soiled material regularly, provoking memories of the girl’s sweet essence that had filled her nostrils.

A Royal Decree goes out ordering all girls between the ages of ten and twelve years to present themselves at the castle. The Princess inspects each of the girls as they try on the undies. She supplements her visual examination by sniffing the girl’s crotches in the hopes of finding the same scent that is imprinted on her brain.

While the Princess enjoys the search, getting to see and smell hundreds of little girls’ bare clefts, she remains heartbroken that she has still not found the object of her desire. But eventually the palace courtiers discover a child kept in hiding, and she is bought before the Princess.

The Princess notices that the little girl who stands before her in a thin shift does resemble her love… although it is hard to be sure. She instructs the girl to lift the hem of her tattered garment, and admires her plump hairless vulva. After sniffing the discarded panties once more, the Princess takes her time slowly pulling them up the child’s slender thighs until they hang loosely off her hips.

She asks the girl to turn around, and her heart races as she sees that the panties fit just as loosely as she remembered. The undies show off an ample amount of her bottom crack, and the wide leg holes allow the Princess to see the girl’s bald slit.

As a final test, the Princess pushes her nose into the young girl’s pantied crotch. She inhales deeply — and emits a cry of joy as she recognizes the musky scent of her true love. She throws her arms around the child’s waist and presses her face against Cinderella’s mound as her hands grab at the girl’s tiny bum cheeks. She plants a series of kisses all over her panty-covered mons and between her legs.

The Princess is overcome with happiness and lust and sucks on the girl’s crotch through her underpants. She soon tastes evidence that Cinderella is enjoying her oral attentions when her cunt moistens and her juices soak the panties as the Princess feasts on the girl’s tangy sauce.

When she has finished enjoying Cinderella’s charms, the Princess solemnly takes her hand, gets down on one knee, and asks the child to marry her. Cinderella accepts the proposal with pleasure.

A week later the two are married…

and they lived happily ever after

Piper’s Mom, Chapter 7

  • Posted on December 30, 2017 at 9:54 am

By Amanda Lynn

Stephanie looked at her watch. It had been over an hour since she’d left the apartment, so it should be safe to head back now. Swallowing the last of her coffee, she got up from the table and left the coffee shop, pausing long enough to toss the empty paper cup into the recycle bin before heading through the door.

She got into her car and keyed the ignition. The memories of what she had heard in her apartment only a short time ago replayed in her mind. She could feel herself getting wet, remembering the thrill of excitement that had run through her at the sound of her daughter’s cries as she orgasmed. Amber had made her daughter come, and she was very envious.

Brooke had made Piper come too, but that seemed different. That was done over the coldness of the Internet. There had been no physical contact, no real emotional connection to each other, just a moving image and some sound waves. In reality, it was Piper’s own fingers that had made her come. Brooke had only been the catalyst.

But Amber, that was different. Amber had been there with Piper, naked in the tub, their skin touching. Amber had confessed to doing as much just a few days ago. Stephanie had no reason to believe that this wasn’t the case tonight. She’d heard the moans from the two girls, the rhythmic sloshing of the water. She had heard Piper’s very vocal cry as she came — as Amber made her come. Maybe she used her fingers or maybe her mouth, Stephanie couldn’t know for sure, but either way, Amber had made her come.

Stephanie wasn’t mad, not really. The thought of Piper and Amber having sex turned her on immensely. But she wanted Piper too, and that made her feel envious, maybe even jealous.

When she pulled into her parking spot at the apartment building, she still wasn’t sure whether she should say anything to Amber or not. If she did say something, just what the hell would that be? She had already told Amber that the thought of the two of them together was a turn-on. She had all but given the teen permission to molest her daughter.

Stephanie sighed and got out of the car. Maybe it would be better simply to pretend that this was just like any other late shift. Pretend that she hadn’t come home early and basically caught the babysitter fucking her daughter.

Reaching her second-floor apartment, Stephanie keyed the lock and opened the door. Her thoughts on the way home had gotten her heart racing and her clit throbbing. She wanted to fuck Amber now. The desire in her was strong, and she needed to release it. Trying hard to maintain her composure, Stephanie put down her purse and kicked off her shoes for the second time that evening before moving deeper into the apartment.

Reaching the living room, she stopped. Stephanie’s initial shock was quickly replaced by a pleasant wave of excitement. Amber lay on the sofa staring directly at her, a look of lust and desire in her eyes. Amber’s hand was inside her shorts, rubbing her pussy. The teen’s hips were jerking, and her breathing was ragged.

In a soft voice, Stephanie asked, “Are you going to come soon?”

Amber nodded, not saying a word.

“Don’t. Not yet, wait for me,” Stephanie said, taking a couple of steps toward the sofa. Then she smiled and pulled the cell phone from the pocket of her uniform dress. She keyed a number and put the phone to her ear. After a few moments, she spoke.

– “Hey, Jess, it’s Steph.”

– “No, everything’s fine. A bit of a mess here at the diner, though. A pipe burst and there’s water all over the place.”

– “Yeah, it’s a real mess. Anyway, I’m gonna stay and help clean up. Not sure when I’ll be home.”

– “No need. I already called Amber. I told her not to wait up, just to crash on the sofa or crawl in bed with Piper, and that I’d call and let you know.”

– “No, not a problem at all. I’m sure Piper will love having her sleep over.”

– “Okay then, talk to you tomorrow. Bye, Jess.”

Stephanie ended the call and placed her phone on the end table. I just lied to my best friend so I can fuck her daughter. Again. If there’s a hell, I’m going there, she thought.

Amber was staring at Stephanie, eyes wide. Her hand had slowed, orgasm all but forgotten.

“I guess I’m spending the night, then?” the teen asked, a huge grin on her face.

Stephanie smirked as she unbuttoned her dress. “Continue what you were doing. Make yourself come for me, but not too quickly. Tonight you’re all mine, little girl,” she said as she slipped the uniform off her shoulders.

Amber’s hand quickened its pace.

In just her bra and panties, Stephanie made her way to the sofa and knelt beside Amber. She gripped the waistband of her shorts and started tugging them down. Amber lifted her hips and tried to help.

“Don’t stop touching your pussy!” Stephanie scolded.

Amber’s fingers were back on her young clit almost immediately.

Stephanie quickly pulled the teen’s shorts and panties all the way off. She sniffed the crotch of the panties for a moment, then tossed them to the floor. Leaning forward, she kissed Amber’s mouth, pushing their tongues into a dance, but only for a second. Pulling away, Stephanie grabbed at the hem of the girl’s tee shirt and pulled it up over her head.

Amber had to take her hand from her pussy to allow the tee to come off. When her shirt was gone, she cupped both her breasts, squeezing them.

Taking one of Amber’s hands, Stephanie brought it back down to her pussy. “Don’t stop!”

Stephanie sat back on the sofa at Amber’s feet. Her own hand pushed into her panties and found her waiting clit. She watched as Amber fingered herself with one hand and with the other pulled at a puffy nipple. Amber’s finger plunged deep inside as she fucked herself feverishly. Her hips began to buck, and her moans became louder. The scent of the teen’s arousal mixed with her own filled the air and pushed Stephanie close to a climax.

“Steph, I’m gonna come,” Amber moaned.

Stephanie’s fingers moved rapidly back and forth across her own engorged clit. An orgasm sat on the edge waiting to crash down upon her. Watching Amber’s fingers play with her slick swollen pussy was driving her wild.

Amber bucked once more and cried out as the orgasm carried her away. Stephanie only had to wait a moment longer before her own blissful release enveloped her.

Resting for only a few minutes, Stephanie stood and took Amber’s hand in hers. Barely giving the girl time to stand, she pulled her toward her bedroom. Closing her bedroom door, Stephanie turned to Amber and drew her into a tight embrace. Fusing their mouths together, she kissed Amber deeply.

Stephanie roughly searched the teen’s mouth, their tongues dancing. Her hands roamed the girl’s back, feeling the heat that radiated from her smooth skin. Amber’s groans filled the air as she too pawed at Stephanie’s back.

Breaking the kiss, Stephanie held the teen at arm’s length. “You’re so damn sexy,” she said in a low, seductive voice. “Now, undress me.”

“You’re kind of sexy yourself,” Amber giggled as she approached Stephanie and moved behind her. She unfastened her bra and pushed the straps off the woman’s shoulders. Amber slowly got to her knees. Running her hands down over the soft skin of the older woman’s back, across her narrow waist and onto her hips. The entire journey was marked with tiny little kisses every inch or so.

Stephanie glanced over her shoulder trying to watch as Amber slowly worked her panties off her hips.

Amber pushed the white cotton garment down to Stephanie’s ankles, then moved her hands back up to the smooth globes of her ass. Squeezing them gently she licked and kissed the salty skin.

Moaning softly, Stephanie turned to face the girl. Spreading her legs slightly, she tangled her fingers in the hair at the back of Amber’s head and pulled her roughly against her wet pussy.

Amber instantly began to suck on Stephanie’s swollen folds as she grasped the fleshy globes of her ass and squeezed them.

“That’s it, baby. Eat me. Eat my cunt,” Stephanie moaned hoarsely.

Stephanie looked down at the top of Amber’s head, watching her work at pleasuring her needy cunt. Stephanie wondered if the teen’s mouth had been on Piper’s young pussy this evening. She groaned, her hips thrusting while picturing the erotic scene.

Amber lapped at her the best she could as Stephanie rocked her pelvis, grinding herself into the teen’s eager mouth.

Stephanie groaned and shivered as flashes of intense pleasure shot through her. Her clit was throbbing, begging for attention. Stephanie guided Amber’s head into position.

“Suck my clit,” she commanded.

Amber did as she was told. Taking Stephanie’s swollen, sensitive bud into her mouth, she sucked on it, flicking her tongue across it as she worked.

Stephanie cursed. She was getting close. It was getting harder to breathe, and her legs threatened to betray her at any moment.

“Fuck! Yes!” she hissed.

The teen continued to torment Stephanie as her head was held in place. The woman’s body jerked and twitched. Amber moaned, sending a new wave of pleasure through Stephanie from the vibrations of her voice.

Stephanie’s knees buckled and she released Amber’s hair as she fell back, landing on the edge of the bed.

Amber, ever dutiful, stayed with Stephanie. Within moments the girl’s mouth was again on Stephanie’s pussy. A talented tongue now lapped at the thick creamy juice that flowed abundantly from her. Licking up through Stephanie’s folds, Amber soon began to circle the woman’s hyper-sensitive clit.

Stephanie cried out, closing her thighs, trapping Amber’s head. Her body convulsed violently. A thousand little sparkles were ignited inside her as a powerful orgasm consumed her. Stephanie’s screams caught in her throat as her back arched off the mattress, hovering only a moment before collapsing back down onto the bed.

Relaxing, she realized Amber was still kissing softly at her labia, her head trapped between her thighs. She released her grip and cleared her throat. Reaching down she played with Amber’s hair for a moment, enjoying the tender kisses on her throbbing sex.

“Come up here, sweetie. I want to hold you.”

Amber obeyed and crawled up beside Stephanie, who took her in her arms. Rocking her gently, Stephanie kissed the girl on the forehead, moving slightly to look into her eyes.

“Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Amber smiled and shook her head. “No, Steph, you didn’t. That was awesome.”

“Good, I thought maybe I might have been too rough with you,” Stephanie said softly.

“You were a little. But it’s okay, I liked it. I know you would never hurt me on purpose.”

Stephanie’s brow furrowed as she looked intently at the girl, studying her face for any indication of fear or resentment.

“Amber, please. I don’t ever want to hurt you. Tell me if I ever do anything you don’t like or don’t want to do. Okay?”

“Okay, I will.”

Promise me.” Stephanie’s voice was stern.

“Yes. I promise, Steph. Jeez!” Amber rolled her eyes and smiled. “Now, can we get back to the sex?”

Stephanie held her gaze for a moment longer. Then concern gave way to happy relief. She laughed and drew the girl into a deep kiss. Amber moaned softly as Stephanie’s hand cupped her young breast, pinching the nipple as she broke the kiss and rolled Amber onto her back. Crawling on top of her, Stephanie nuzzled against Amber’s neck, kissing and nipping at the soft flesh.

The air was filled with the scent of their combined arousal and the soft moans of the young girl beneath her. Stephanie sucked on Amber’s earlobe before moving down to kiss her collarbone and then the pointed tip of her nipple.

Amber ran her fingers through Stephanie’s hair as the woman sucked on and played her tongue over her sensitive nipple. Amber’s skin flushed, and her chest heaved with each hot breath. Stephanie moved her attention to the other nipple, taking it into her mouth and dragging her teeth across it.

Stephanie ran her hand over the teen’s flat belly and through the curly hair on her pubic mound. Touching the girl’s clit invoked an immediate reaction. Amber’s hips jerked, and she moaned loudly. Stephanie circled the sensitive bud with one finger for just a few moments before pushing down through Amber’s soft wet folds.

Flicking her tongue over the girl’s nipple, Stephanie pushed a finger into Amber’s core. The girl gasped at the suddenness of it.

She is so tight. I wonder if she has ever had anything inside her? Stephanie thought, as she savored the smooth wetness of Amber’s vaginal walls. I wonder how tight Piper would feel?

Leaving her finger inside the girl, she looked up at Amber. Her eyes were closed, lips parted as she panted. The occasional soft moan escaped her.

“Did you and Piper have fun today?” Stephanie asked nonchalantly.

“Huh? What?” The confused response came between gasps.

“You and Piper. Did you have fun?” she said, pushing her finger deep, then withdrawing it.

“Unhg! Steph! Yes, we had fun,” Amber whined.

“I see. What kind of fun?” Stephanie nipped at Amber’s breast.

“We… we… played Mario,” Amber groaned. Her hips moved against Stephanie’s hand.

“Did you take a bath with her? Get naked with my little girl?” Stephanie asked, her voice soft and seductive, as she pushed her finger in again, and then slowly withdrew.

Amber grunted. Twitching, she nodded her head. “Yes,” she squeaked as she pawed at the bed.

“Did you wash her?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All over?” Stephanie penetrated deep.

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you wash her pussy?” Stephanie slowly withdrew.

“Uh-huh.” Amber’s head was thrashing, her pelvis thrusting upwards, begging for Stephanie’s finger.

“Is that when you made my little girl come? Made Piper scream out your name as you rubbed her little cunt?” Stephanie asked in a sultry voice.

Amber had gone stiff, frozen like a statue.

Stephanie pushed her finger back into Amber and left it there. She moved to whisper softly into the girl’s ear.

“Answer me, Amber. Did you fuck my daughter?” Stephanie said hotly.

Her warm breath washed over the teen’s skin. Slowly, she pumped her finger in and out of her tight, wet vagina. “I know you did, Amber. I heard it. I was there. Just outside the door. Listening as you made my baby come. Listening when Piper called out your name as you fucked her. You are such a naughty, naughty girl.”

“Fuck,” was all Amber could say. It came as a long, drawn-out whine. She stiffened and shook as her orgasm took her.

Stephanie felt the girl’s vagina clamp down on the finger she still had buried deep inside her. A few more twitches, and then Amber was unconscious.

Stephanie blinked in disbelief at the inert form lying on the bed. Withdrawing her finger and bringing it to her mouth, she sucked it clean. She was amazed that she had brought Amber to such an intense orgasm that she had literally passed out from the sheer power of it.

Moving to lie beside the girl, she softly kissed her forehead and brushed away an errant strand of hair that hung over her eyes. Subconsciously, Stephanie had wanted to be somewhat aggressive with Amber tonight, maybe because of the jealousy she felt. But now, seeing the peaceful, sleeping young girl beside her, all she wanted to do was make sweet, gentle love to her.

Several minutes passed before Amber’s eyes fluttered open. Her stare was blank, confused, as if unaware of where she was or what was going on.

“Welcome back,” Stephanie said, in a gentle voice. “You were out for quite a while.” She stroked Amber’s hair.

“Umm, what… what happened?” Amber asked as the fog slowly cleared from her mind. Her throat had been so dry that she had to swallow a couple of times before she could ask the question.

“You came. Very hard, I’m guessing, and then passed out.”

Amber rolled onto her side to face Stephanie. She stretched upward and puckered her lips for a kiss. Stephanie obliged and kissed her softly.

“Last thing I remember, you were talking to me about Piper and — oh my god! You were there!” Amber’s face turned a bright shade of pink with the sudden recollection.

“Yeah. I got home early tonight. Just in time to hear Piper come.”

“And you weren’t mad?”

Stephanie shook her head. “No. But a little jealous, maybe,” she said, stroking the soft skin of the girl’s arm.

After a few moments, Amber giggled, “Then you shoulda come in and joined us.”

“I seriously thought about it. But I didn’t want to scare or embarrass either of you.”

“If you had come in, would you have just watched, or helped me make Piper come?” Amber asked shyly, placing her hand on Stephanie’s breast.

Stephanie paused, thinking about how to answer. Of course, she would’ve loved to have joined them in the tub and made both of the young girls come. She looked down at Amber’s hand and placed her own on top of it.

“Would you think me a monster if I said yes to both?” Stephanie replied.

Amber smiled. “No. Not at all. I know society frowns on that sort of thing, but I don’t. I mean, if the feelings are mutual and the sex is consensual…” she trailed off.

Feeling herself becoming aroused again, Stephanie squeezed Amber’s hand, prompting the girl to caress her breast. She leaned over and brushed her lips against the teen’s.

“Tell me,” she said, “how did you make her come? What did you do?”

“In the tub?” Amber asked shyly.

“Was there somewhere else too?” Stephanie asked, an eyebrow raised.

Amber blushed and nodded. “Yeah. In her bedroom, after our bath.”

Stephanie moaned as a delicious wave of excitement rushed over her. She placed a hand on her own throbbing clit and rubbed vigorously.

“Tell me about both,” she whispered. She felt the heat in her face rise as she flushed with arousal.

“Well, I played with her pussy. Moved my fingers all over her. Then, I rubbed her clit until she came.”

“And then, in her room?” Stephanie groaned.

“I ate her pussy. I licked her and sucked on her clit. Then, I fucked her with my tongue,” Amber whispered.

The visual impressions of Amber’s words brought Stephanie to another powerful orgasm. She jerked and twitched as she continued to finger her swollen clit.

“Oh, Piper,” she sighed.

As she calmed, she pulled Amber into an embrace. “Thank you for that,” she said and kissed the young girl.

Amber snuggled into Stephanie, wrapping an arm around her. “You know, she’s pretty good at making me come too, at least with her fingers.”

Stephanie smiled. Remembering the videos she’d seen of Piper playing with herself, she could only imagine that she would be good at fingering someone else. As far as she knew, Piper may have been practicing that and more with Brooke when they were together, let alone online.

They held each other in silence for a while longer before Amber propped herself up and smiled at Stephanie, running her fingertips down the woman’s thigh.

“So, are you up for another round?” she said in a naughty tone.

Stephanie looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Really? You’re insatiable.”

Amber giggled as she made a trail of little kisses on the soft flesh of Stephanie’s chest. Stephanie hummed with appreciation and stroked the younger girl’s hair.

“Do you feel like being a little adventurous?” Stephanie asked playfully.

The girl looked up at her. “Okay,” she said cautiously. “What do you want to do?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Uh-huh.”

Stephanie untangled herself from Amber’s arms and sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. Opening the bottom drawer of her nightstand, she withdrew a shoe box and set it down beside the lamp. After taking the lid off the box, she took a small bottle of honey-colored liquid out and set it aside.

“Get on your hands and knees, baby,” Stephanie instructed as she turned to face the teen.

Doing as she was asked, Amber positioned herself in the center of the bed. Stephanie moved behind her and placed her hands on the girl’s perfectly shaped ass. She caressed the skin of the silky-smooth globes for a few moments.

Amber moaned softly as Stephanie moved a hand down to cup the girl’s sex. Running a finger through the sticky folds, she pushed her finger into Amber’s entrance. Amber moaned. Withdrawing the finger, Stephanie slid it to the young girl’s clit and rubbed the sensitive bud for only a few moments.

Stephanie lowered her face to Amber’s pussy and played her tongue over her opening, swirling around the edge, dipping in to taste the sweet nectar. Then, to Amber’s utter shock, she let her tongue travel up to the girl’s anus.

“Oh, god! Steph, what are you…?” Amber groaned.

Stephanie’s tongue swirled around the girl’s tight little pucker. She took her time as she massaged the sphincter with her tongue, allowing the teen to become used to the touch and begin to relax. After a few minutes, she brought her hand up and place a finger on Amber’s anus, slowly rubbing it.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” the girl answered dreamily. Amber had dropped down onto her shoulders, the side of her face rested on a pillow, one of her hands now playing with her clit.

“Good. Just try and relax your muscles. I’m going to put my finger in now. Let me know if you want me to stop.”

“Okay.”

Stephanie smiled and reached for the bottle she had set aside earlier. Removing the cap, she squeezed the bottle, allowing its contents to ooze into the crack of the girl’s ass. Setting the bottle down, Stephanie swirled the lube around Amber’s anus for a few moments.

Then, ever so slowly, she pressed a fingertip against the pucker. Amber gasped as the finger pushed past her sphincter and moved into her rectum, down to the first knuckle. Stephanie paused and looked up at the young girl’s face for signs of distress.

Amber’s eyes were closed, her mouth slightly open. Soft moans escaped from her lips. Her hips were rocking ever so slightly. Stephanie could see Amber’s fingers playing with her clit, moving in slow circles.

Moving her finger in a slow circular motion inside the teenager’s ass, Stephanie pushed a little farther into her.

“Just relax, baby, that’s it,” she whispered as she felt Amber’s ass clench around her finger, then slowly relax again.

After another two or three minutes, Stephanie’s finger was buried as deeply as it could go and Amber was relaxed. The girl had brought herself to orgasm at one point, but didn’t show any signs of wanting Stephanie to stop what she was doing. After several more minutes, Stephanie was ready to bring their anal play to the next level.

“No…” Amber moaned as Stephanie gently withdrew her finger from the girl’s ass.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m not done yet,” Stephanie said, going back to the box and grabbing a small black conical object. She first coated the object with plenty of lube, then moved back to Amber’s waiting ass.

“What is that?” the girl asked wide-eyed, after catching a momentary glimpse of the toy.

“It’s a butt plug. You’ll love it, trust me.”

“It looks so big. Will it fit?” Amber asked nervously.

“Uh-huh. Relax, this one is just a baby.”

Amber rested her head back on the pillow as Stephanie placed the toy against her open sphincter and gently pushed it in. The toy’s girth, being bigger than Stephanie’s finger, caused the girl to moan as it stretched her wider. Once it was fully seated in Amber’s ass, Stephanie saw the girl shudder as little tremors of pleasure ran through her.

Reaching back into the box, Stephanie grabbed a shiny silver vibrator. Bringing it to her mouth, she sucked on it and then placed it against Amber’s pussy. Slowly, she rubbed the toy back and forth though Amber’s folds. The girl moaned and shuddered again at the touch of the cool metal.

“Doing okay?” Stephanie asked.

“Uh-huh. I feel… I don’t know… full?”

Stephanie snorted. “That’s good. It only gets better from here,” she said as she reached forward and tweaked the girl’s nipple. “Have you ever had anything in your pussy? You know, like a hairbrush, a vegetable, or a penis maybe?”

Amber giggled. “No. Just fingers and tampons,” she answered. “And by the way, there’s no way in hell a boy is ever gonna put his dick in me. Gross!”

Stephanie laughed. Taking the vibrator away long enough to turn it on, she then placed it against Amber’s clit.

“Oh, fuck!” the girl cried out as her body jerked at the touch.

“Get on your back now,” Stephanie directed.

After dropping to her side, Amber rolled onto her back. Stephanie adjusted her position, getting onto her knees. She pushed the girl’s legs apart and touched the buzzing toy to Amber’s clit once again. Watching her twitch, she circled the vibrator around her clit and pushed it down through the glistening pink folds to her entrance. Hesitating for just a second, Stephanie pushed the toy into the hot wetness of Amber’s vagina. She was slick and relaxed, but it was still a snug fit.

Amber groaned and bucked her hips at the intrusion. Stephanie slowly fucked the girl with the shiny toy, pushing it in and withdrawing it at an ever-increasing tempo. The teen squirmed and whimpered, thrashing her head from side to side. The vibrator’s hum was drowned out by an audible squishing noise as a new torrent of juices flooded past the pistoning toy.

“Steph! Yes!” Amber gasped.

The girl’s eyes were screwed shut, her face contorted. Amber’s back arched up as she gripped the bed and cried out. Her body stiffened and shook.

Stephanie kept the vibrating toy moving, deep inside.

Amber whimpered and soon cried out again as a second powerful orgasm took her.

Stephanie watched the girl’s face. Her eyes were open, staring pleadingly as tears streamed down her cheeks. Amber was trying to speak but couldn’t get the words out as she gasped for air. Her chest was heaving. Then she bucked her hips once more, and her eyes rolled upward from a third orgasm.

Smiling, Stephanie pulled the vibrator from the quivering girl’s body and was sprayed by the warm juices that issued from her.

Amber rolled onto her side and curled up into a ball, softly sobbing.

Stephanie laid down and wrapped a comforting arm around her, gently rubbing her back.

After a time, Amber opened her eyes. She looked at Stephanie and smiled weakly.

“Are you okay?” Stephanie asked softly.

Amber nodded. “Yeah, I think so. That was so intense.” She sniffed again. “Can we get rid of the… um… plug?”

“Sure,” Stephanie said with a chuckle. Reaching behind the girl, she gently withdrew the toy and tossed it on the floor.

Amber gasped at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Then she sighed and snuggled into Stephanie. “I could lie here like this forever,” Amber cooed.

“That would be nice,” Stephanie replied, kissing the girl on the head.

Stephanie grabbed at the edge of the comforter behind her and wrapped it around both of them. As Amber quickly fell into a deep sleep, Stephanie once again found herself staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the things she had heard and done this evening.

Her thoughts went to Piper and the revelation of her being sexually active with Amber. She could only assume that the child was also having sex with Brooke. It would be naïve to think otherwise. That knowledge spurred on Stephanie’s desire to be with her daughter the same way. But still, she was unsure if she should, or ever could.

“Damn,” she cursed softly. Closing her eyes, Piper’s mom eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 8

My Daughter’s Secrets, Part Two

  • Posted on December 29, 2017 at 11:44 am

By Misty Meadow

The following day, there I was — reading my daughter’s diary again.

Oct. 9th:
Mum’s acting weird. I wonder if she’s attracted to Jaqui, like sexually? I don’t know, there’s just something about how she behaves when Jaqui and me are hanging out with her. I keep seeing Mum looking at Jacqui in a hungry way, like she wants to lay her out on the kitchen table and lick her right there! Well, if she ever tried anything like that, you better believe I’d have something to say about it! Mum’s way too old for her and besides, she’s mine.

Anyhow, that’s not the big thing I have to write about. Last night, in my bedroom, out of the blue, Jaqui suddenly said it! ‘I think I’m in love with you.’

OMG!!! I thought I was having a heart attack. She loves me! I told her that I loved her too and we fell into each other’s arms, kissing like crazy. I was so relieved to hear her say that. I guess I’d been worried all along that she might not love me, that it was just about sex, but now I’m in heaven.

After that we just kissed and kissed, nothing more, until it was time for her to go home. It was so sweet and romantic that If we’d touched each other’s pussies, it would have felt wrong.

I’m so so SO happy! I wanna shout my love for Jaqui from the rooftops, but I don’t dare just yet, not even to Mum. What if she disapproves? Mum wouldn’t mind me being gay since she is too, but I bet she’d say I was too young for me and Jaqui to have sex like we do. So, it has to stay a secret, us being in love.

I was happy for her… but at the same time, a little jealous. I wanted to be eleven years old again so I could fall in love with a darling little nymphet like Jaqui. I’d hug her and kiss her and teach her everything I knew about sex between girls — how she can make my nipples get hard and how to explore my cunt and suck on my clit and even how to tongue my cute brown rosebud. I’d teach her to fist me and use sex toys and press her cunt against mine and…  fuck me, I was getting carried away again.

I stripped naked and masturbated, spread out in front of the mirror. This time I did it with my vibrator, teasing my clit with it, then thrusting it deep inside me, fucking myself.

Once again, I imagined that the girls were watching me — only this time, I found myself begging them to join me. I cried, “Fuck me! Fuck me, Jaqui!” as I watched the toy disappear inside me. “Play with my tits, Kitty, squeeze them, suck on my nipples. Bite them! Go on, make them hurt!” Behind the mirror, my imaginary audience cheered me on until I had an explosive orgasm.

Were my fantasies getting out of hand? Gay women like me masturbate all the time, but did they often get off to visions of eleven year old girls? I doubted it. Reading Kitty’s diary had opened some kind of floodgate,  and my inner paedophile had come gushing out. I was seeing my daughter ripen into womanhood, and more than anything I wanted to participate, to share in the delight she must’ve felt as she discovered the thrill of being sexually aroused — and even better, arousing a lover. But I could only be a secret voyeur, standing on the sidelines, watching.

*****

That Saturday, I took Kitty and Jaqui on the tube to the West End to do some shopping. We spent hours in the lingerie departments of Selfridges and Marks & Spencers, looking for sexy underthings for Kitty.

I noticed Jaqui holding a pair of gauze-thin panties, and found myself imagining how delicious she’d look in them. “Pick out something for yourself,” I told her. “I’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t know,” she said, frowning. “I mean, I’d love to, but my mum wouldn’t ever let me have anything like this.”

I gave her arm a squeeze. “You can keep it at our house… that way, your mum won’t even know about. Then you’ll have it to wear whenever you come over!”

Her eyes lit up like stars. “Oh, thank you, thank you. You’re the best!” And she threw her arms around me, right then and there. I hugged her back, trying not to let my arousal show. She felt so wonderful in my arms!

After making our purchases, we walked down Oxford Street looking at the boutiques. We bought some more sexy stuff, stopped to get pizza, then caught the tube home.

Later we were in Kitty’s bedroom, trying on our new things. We had a small heap of knickers in different styles and colours, a teddy, and some training bras for the girls. Kitty was standing in front of the mirror in just a pair of white stockings with a suspender belt, and two tiny triangles of a see-through bra that revealed her nipples.

“Cool!” Jaqui murmured, checking my daughter out. She was totally naked and pawing through the pile of knickers, looking for something to put on. She finally chose a pair of utterly sheer pale blue, full cut panties that would’ve been all but invisible if it weren’t for the tiny white butterflies that patterned them. She stepped into them, then posed for us. The filmy knickers left her cunt perfectly visible. She seemed to glow as Kitty and I feasted our eyes on her, knowing full well how drop-dead sexy she was.

Kitty turned to me. “C’mon, Mum — try your stuff on now!”

I’d bought myself a pair of white nylon tap pants and matching camisole. Taking a deep breath, I undressed as the girls watched, feeling thrilled to be the centre of attention. Then, naked as the day I was born, I held the tap pants up and inspected them. They had lace round the legs.

I was about to step into them, but then thought better of it. I laid the pants back on the bed, picked up the camisole and put it on. You see, I wanted to delay putting the knickers on for as long as possible so I could enjoy having my cunt on display for the girls.

“Here, let me help you, Mum,” Kitty demanded, holding the tap pants for me to step into. I did just that, then tugged them up and turned to study myself in the mirror. Had to admit it — I looked pretty fucking sexy.

“Awesome!” Jaqui cheered

“Yeah!” Kitty added, “But we can’t see your pussy, Mum.”

“Does it always have to be on show, then?”

“Yeah!” the girls chorused, both grinning.

“Mine is,” said Kitty.

“And mine,” said Jaqui. “So we gotta see yours, too!”

“In that case,” I said, looking through the knicker pile to find what I wanted — something I’d sneaked into the shopping cart without the girls noticing. I pulled the tap pants off, pulled the new knickers on, then turned to face Jaqui and Kitty. They both gasped in perfect unison, and I fought back the urge to laugh.

“There’s no front to them!” Kitty cried. “Are they supposed to be like that?”

I just smiled. “They are, sweetie. These are called crotchless panties. You like?”

“Bloody hell,” Jaqui murmured. “Yeah, I like!”

“They’re perfect, Mum. How many pairs did you buy?”

“Just the one.” I spread the front of the knickers wide open, providing an excellent view of my pussy. I could feel myself getting wet.

“You need to shave,” Kitty commented.

“Get my electric razor from the bathroom,” I told her, and in a flash, she was back.

I took the knickers off and sat on the bed, my legs spread. “Go ahead, sweetie. You do it.”

Kitty looked at me in awe. “Really?”

I nodded, she grinned, then knelt between my legs and started to run the purring razor over my stubble.
“Take your time, now, and do a good job,” I said.

Jaqui looked on as Kitty shaved me bare, intrigued at this new intimacy between mother and daughter. I’d never asked Kitty to do anything like this before, but things were changing rapidly between the three of us, and I wanted to take it up a notch.

Finally my daughter sat back, opened the razor and blew it clean. “Okay, Mum — all done.”

“Do me a favor, then — run your hand over me and make sure I’m perfectly smooth.”

She did! My heart skipped a beat. My daughter had never touched me there before.

“Like a baby’s bum,” she said.

“Smooth as yours, eh?” I said.

“And mine,” said Jaqui. I put the crotchless panties back on, examined myself. Kitty was right, it did look better after I’d been shaved.

“You should have got seven pairs, Mum! One for every… ”

“Yeah, you’re right. Course, I can always buy more on the internet.”

“I’m gonna try on the rest of the stuff later,” said Kitty. “I like this outfit. It’s dead sexy.”

“Me, too,” said Jaqui. “Maybe I’ll wear these knickers to school tomorrow and give the teachers a flash.”

“Don’t push your luck,” I admonished her. “You can flash us, Jaqui, but don’t dare try it at school. If wearing sexy undies would get your mum upset, think of what she’d do if you showed them off to your teachers.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right,” Jaqui shuddered. “She’d prob’ly lock me up in my bedroom for a year.”

We went out to the back garden and hung out there in our sexy outfits, constantly stealing glances at one another. After awhile, Jaqui had to go home. As she dressed, I thought that she looked just as sexy in her ordinary white cotton knickers. They emphasised her youth. No wonder Kitty was in love with her.

*****

It was two days later. I was reading the diary again.

Oct. 12th:
Mum’s getting more weird, but it’s a really cool weird. On Saturday she took me and Jaqui shopping for sexy undies. Then when we got back home, she said we should go up to her bedroom and try on our new things. Pretty soon I was only wearing stockings and nothing else, and Jaqui had totally see through knickers. Mum couldn’t take her eyes off us! It was lots of fun, showing off our pussies to her.

I didn’t think it could get better than that, but then Mum surprised us with something I never saw before but REALLY liked. She calls them crotchless panties, which are like knickers with the front open. It sounds kind of funny, I guess, but I gotta admit that Mum looked totally sexy. We got a great look at her pussy! I asked her if I could have a pair, and told me she’s gonna buy more on the internet (in a smaller size for me).

Then we went out into the backyard garden and hung out in our undies. We have a high enough fence that we don’t have to worry about anyone seeing us, so we can go naked there if we want.

Anyway, all afternoon while we were in the garden, Mum keep looking at us! She was wearing sun glasses, so I bet she thought we didn’t know, but we did. It made me feel like being naughty, so I just sat there with my legs spread wide open, letting Mum look. I told Jaqui about it when Mum went inside for a minute, so then she started sitting that way too. We didn’t do it like we were showing our pussies off, we made it look accidental.

I don’t know why, but I find that Mum looking at our pussies is kinda exciting. Yeah, she’s my mum, but I don’t care. No other mums would let us behave like this. I don’t know what happened to make her so much fun all of a sudden, but I love it!

I suppose it wasn’t much of a surprise that my daughter had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, at least when it came to showing her pussy to other females. I’d been like that for ages, often going without knickers while in a skirt so I could give women and even young girls a glimpse of my cunt. I’d even picked up a few lovers that way.

It thrilled the stuffing out of me that Kitty used the word “exciting,” to describe how she felt about me staring at her exposed pussy. She was growing up fast, ripening into one stunner of a woman. I’d miss her childish innocence, but I liked this new bold side of her. I’d seen my daughter in the nude many times since she was born — but when she intentionally put her cunt on display for my benefit, that was something quite different.

It seemed almost as if Kitty was extending me an invitation of sorts, and that had me feeling aroused — and frightened. Oh, Jaqui was turning me on too, but these lewd thoughts of mine were straying more and more in the direction of my daughter. It unsettled me, but not enough to keep me from reading Kitty’s diary.

On Tuesday afternoon, Kitty came home from school on her own. It turned out that Jaqui was going to a musical in the West End with her parents, so my daughter and I had the rest of the day to ourselves.

After dinner, I put the dishes in the sink, poured myself a glass of wine and said, “Well, daughter dearest, I’m going to have myself a nice long soak in the tub.”

Kitty smiled. “Sounds lovely, Mum. Why don’t I come along and keep you company?”

I casually said, “Sure,” but inside, I was tingling with excitement as my daughter followed me upstairs to the bath. My pussy was already getting wet, and I felt ready for anything to happen between us.

As I was filling the tub, Kitty said, “Let’s do this right, Mum. You need scented bath salts — and we should have candles, too!”

“That’s sweet of you, love,” I said. “I’ve got both, there in the cabinet under the washbasin.”

Kitty got what she needed, then opened the jar of citrus-scented salts and poured a measure of them into the tub. She lit four candles, setting each one at the tap end of the tub so I wouldn’t knock them over. That accomplished, she switched off the light. “There… nice and romantic,” she murmured, in a tone that made me shiver.

I undressed while the tub continued to fill, allowing a hand to drift between my legs when I was naked. “You did a good job shaving me,” I said. “That’s your chore from now on.”

She grinned. “What about me, then? Will you shave me there when I grow hair?”

“Of course. Don’t you have any yet?” She shook her head. ”Not even a tiny trace? Show me.”

Without a word, Kitty lifted up her dress and slid her knickers down to the floor. I peered closely at her sex. It was hard to see in candlelight, so I ran my hand over her mound, my fingertips brushing her slit. “Nope. Not even a wisp. Well, it won’t be long before your breasts start to come in, but I kinda like you with a nice smooth pussy.” The tub was full, so I turned the water off, then gave my daughter a loving smile. “Tell you what… since you’re half naked anyhow, why don’t you take that dress off and have a bath with me?”

I guess Kitty liked that idea, because she was out of her clothes and standing naked next to me in about five seconds. I climbed into the bathtub, and she sat down between my legs with her back resting against my chest. We settled in with contented sighs.

“This is nice,” I said. “Mother and daughter, cuddled together with nothing to hide.”

“Yeah,” Kitty breathed. “This is the best. Thanks for inviting me in, Mum.”

I wrapped an arm around her upper chest, hugging my daughter to me. I could feel my nipples getting hard from the touch of Kitty’s back. “You know, when Jaqui’s here next, you two should take a bath together like this. It’s a lovely way to cement a friendship.”

“Really? Well, yeah, sure, if it’s really okay with you. That’s a great idea.”

We sat in silence for awhile, no sounds to be heard but our breathing and an occasional drop of water from the faucet. Then Kitty spoke up again. “Isn’t Jaqui’s the best, Mum? She’s the nicest friend I ever had. I love her lots.”

I smiled. “She is a gem of a girl, I have to agree. And so sexy. Didn’t she look amazing in those see-through knickers?”

“Not as hot as you, Mum, in those crotchless ones. Hey, um, I kinda wanted to ask… y’know, I never used to see you much without clothes on, but it seems like now I do all the time. Even more when Jaqui comes over. How come you suddenly like showing your naughty bits to us?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No, no! It’s fun. It’s sort of grown up. I mean, I wanna grow up and have tits and stuff, so I can look as sexy as you do.”

Oh my God, my daughter actually said out loud that I’m sexy! My heart was pounding, and my cunt pulsed with helpless lust. It took every ounce of self-control I possessed to keep me from grinding myself off against Kitty’s ass, which rested snugly between my thighs.

I put my other arm round my daughter and gave her a warm hug, casually allowing my hands to drift down to her chest. I was lightly resting the tips of my fingers on her nipples. Was I wrong, or were they responding to my touch?

“You’re a lot sexier than you think right now,” I told her. “Don’t you ever look in the mirror when you’re naked and admire yourself? I did at your age. I still do. In fact, sometimes while I’m looking, I touch myself — you know what I mean.”

Kitty was silent for a second or so. “You do… ?”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, everyone does it. You don’t have to tell me, but if you do it in bed at night, that’s marvelous. There’s nothing wrong or bad about masturbating. It’s perfectly healthy, even if you do it a lot. In fact,” and my lips brushed her ear as I took it down to a whisper, “it’s even better when someone else does it to you.”

“Um, it does?” she said. Such innocence in her voice, as if I had no idea what she’d been up to with her little lover Jacqi.

“Oh, definitely!” At that moment I wanted, more than anything in the world, to slide my hand down between Kitty’s legs and finger her cunt, but I still couldn’t summon up the nerve to take that huge step. “I used to do that kind of thing with my school friends, back when I was your age. Y’know, if you and Jaqui ever decided to touch each other down there, you’d find it feels exquisite.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “Wow… I never knew I had such a dirty-minded mum. In a good way, I mean.”

“Oh, I think I’m like a lot of mums — just more honest, that’s all.” We fell silent again.

In truth, I was anything but honest. I was secretly reading my daughter’s diary, which was about the most dishonest thing I could imagine.

I didn’t want to push things any further with Kitty, sensing that she needed some time to digest what we’d just discussed. The water in the tub was beginning to cool anyhow, so we got out and dried off, then went our separate ways.

Me, I marched straight into my bedroom, closed the door, and masturbated myself to three orgasms.

*****

Oct 14th:
Unbelievable! Mum told me masturbates, she just came right out and told me! I mean, I knew she had to, but it was SO HOT hearing her say it! She told me I’m sexy, too. Something strange is going on here, she’s never acted like this before. It’s nice though, ‘cos she’s treating me like a grown up. She even said that she masturbated with other kids when she was young! We were in the bath with candles and stuff and she was drinking wine. Maybe that’s why she confessed about frigging herself.

She even suggested, get this, that Jaqui and I should do it to each other. She doesn’t know that not only are we touching each other’s pussies, we’re licking them too!

Those crotchless knickers that Mum ordered on the internet on Saturday arrived, just four pairs. She said two of them were for me and the others are for Jaqui. It’s so freaky, my mum buying underwear for my lover! Then she told me that I should ask Jaqui to come sleep over soon, ‘cos she wants to see her try them on. I bet Mum really just wants to look at her pussy, that’s all, but for now just she’ll have to get by with looking at mine. I’ll try my new knickers on when I get into my comfy things after dinner.

*****

Later:
Okay, I tried the knickers on. They were a perfect fit, so I wore them all evening. Mum wore a sheer baby doll nightie that was open at the front, tied at the top with a little bow that I kept pulling on to look at her tits, pretending it was a game. She didn’t wear the skimpy knickers that came with it. I think I’ll keep those for myself and surprise Jaqui. (I phoned her right after dinner, and she’s coming over tomorrow!)

When I was talking to her, Jaqui told me Mum’s the sexiest person she’s ever met, after me anyway. She said that if Mum came on to her, she’d let her do anything she wanted! I was kinda shocked and thrilled at the same time. She asked me if I’d be jealous, and I told her no, not if I was in the room and could join in. I don’t know WHERE that came from, but as soon as I said it I knew it was true.

Jaqui was even more surprised than I was. She asked me if I really meant that, if I saw her and Mum in bed, would I actually get in and join them for sex? I told her I’d do anything to make Mum happy.

I was sitting on Kitty’s bed, head spinning like a crazy merry-go-round as I drank in my daughter’s words. My God… she was willing to have sex with me!

That led to a very big question: would Kitty let me have my way with her because of a desire to “make Mum happy”… or did she genuinely want us to fuck? I couldn’t say for certain. Perhaps the answer would turn up in one of her future diary entries. I’d have to bide my time.

Continue on to Part Three

Revolutionettes, Chapter 3

  • Posted on December 28, 2017 at 7:05 am

By Amanda

1792 – Philadelphia Pa.

Madeline met me early that day. The day that changed my life in Philadelphia. We walked together to a lovely pond where we watched ducks and geese swimming. Even against the harsh stares of those around us, Madeline held my hand in hers and we sat like foolish little girls making eyes at one another.

“Come and live with me, Elizabeth,” she said after what seemed an internal debate on the subject. I did not know what to say at first. Did she mean what I hoped she meant? Or did she simply want me around to relieve loneliness?

I thought about it for some time before I smiled and nodded my head to her. The house mistress had grown cold toward me after she saw that nothing she had said had deterred me from seeing Madeline. The sisters seemed always to giggle about me, and even the other girls were different. It was the dirty secret of the house and I was the unfortunate subject of it. It had all become too much and Madeline was offering a way to escape it.

“This very day then. We’ll go now and gather your things,” she insisted. She stood and dusted herself off, then offered her arm to me. I took it confidently. I could do anything with confidence when I was with her.

We walked an hour back to the house and Madeline politely remained outside while I went up to pack my bag. I had come with two dresses. I would leave with three. I had two dollars when I arrived in the house, and I had three dollars saved now. I turned to leave, feeling I’d long worn out my welcome, but found the sisters standing at the door of my room. They walked in together and wrapped their arms around me, wishing me a tearful farewell.

I had not expected this from them, nor from anyone else. I felt I had fallen out of favor with them all. Elsa stood back and held my hands, looking at me for what she knew to be the last time.

“Elizabeth, dear, does she truly make you happy?”

“She does,” I answered.

“Such things are what you want? Could you never see yourself with a proper husband and family?” I shook my head. “Then I wish you all the happiness in the world.”

“Me too,” Mary offered.

I smiled at them as tears slipped down my cheeks. “And I you, Elsa… Mary… I shall truly miss you both.”

“I can’t say that either of us can understand it,” said Mary, “but we’ll miss you.”

I nodded, that was good enough. Could I have asked any more? Perhaps I had misunderstood them. As I stood there, I realized that they may have been giggling and whispering for me and not at me. Of course any acceptance they might feel for me had to be as hidden as my relationship with Madeline should have been.

I paid my rent until the end of the week and left the house, to Madeline’s waiting arms. She smiled and took my bag in one hand, then offered her free arm to escort me to my new home.

We caught a cab at the cafe and rode to the place where she lived. It was situated above her workshop. She could boast of three bed chambers, a kitchen, a sitting room, and a parlor. It was a fine house indeed.

I had not imagined in my life that I would ever live with such luxury. And so it was that I set about cooking, cleaning, and doing all the womanly things I had been taught to do. She worked from dawn to dusk in the shop and came upstairs everyday weary and dirty.

Without fail, I would draw her a bath. She was indeed the cleanest farrier in all of the city. Together we would sit in the tub and wash. Our eyes never leaving the other, we flirted, smiled, and enjoyed the closeness. But with all of that, strangely, she had not taken me to her bed, though I tried to seem available to her.

She was resisting. Sleeping in her own room and leaving me in mine. I was saddened, but what could I have done?

Three weeks passed with this strange practice. I was frustrated and feeling the fool not only a little for thinking she had any romantic interest in me. We sat at table eating our supper in silence one night when at last I looked across at her.

“Have I misunderstood?” I asked. “Were you not courting me all that time?”

Madeline swallowed hard but looked relieved. “Of course I was, Elizabeth.”

She sipped at her soup. A moment passed, and then she looked up to me. Her face wore an expression of uncertainty, something I’d thought I never would see.

“Am I your first?” she asked.

I shook my head and blushed.

This seemed a relief to her, though. “And you are not mine, not by many.”

Many, I thought, how many? Something in me wanted to know, but something else assured me it would be better not to think of it.

“There are lots of tom boys here?” I finally asked.

“No, I should think not. But there are enough. And we’re not toms. Only British girls are toms. Here in America, we’re… well, we haven’t a word for it to tell the truth. Sapphist, perhaps.”

“Sapphist?” I repeated. “That’s the word? The poet Sappho?” I finally had a proper word to describe my unnatural desires. My perversions had a name, and this came as such a relief to me.

She smiled at my reaction. “I’ve something to show you, I think.”

I wanted to know right away what it was, but she insisted that first we finish our supper. When we were done, we bathed as we always did. For anyone else so much bathing would be unusual, but Madeline insisted it was necessary.

We finished, dried ourselves, and donned our night dresses. Madeline then led me to her room and stood before me for some time, letting me see her looking like a girl, for she so rarely did this.

“Do you like me this way?” she asked.

I did. Better even, but I daren’t say that.

“You’re a fine lady yourself, and that excites me. I am what I know I am, but you… raised by nuns… am I only a passing fancy, Elizabeth?”

“No,” I assured her. “Not at all, Maddy. Not ever. I know it is my desire only to be with a woman. I know this truly.”

She stared at me, then said, “I want to show you something. But you must understand its gravity, child. If you should accept, I’ll have ruined you for any man. None will have you and you’ll be alone. I could not bear that guilt.”

“I’d rather be alone than bound to a man,” I stated.

Madeline tried to smile. She knelt at the edge of her bed and reached underneath, pulling out a carpet bag.

“This is a bit of a treasure. I have had to trade a lifetime of free work and horseshoes to acquire this and assure its secrecy.”

She opened the bag and withdrew what at first I saw as the strangest object I had ever laid my eyes upon. I realized shortly that it was a polished wooden phallus, suspended from a belt of sorts that seemed to fit about the waist and between the legs.

I stood gaping at the device in wonder for several moments before Madeline slipped out of her night dress and began to put it on.

I did not know what to do. I was in shock, but nevertheless intrigued. She laid me on the bed and caressed me, lying on top of me and kissing me deeply. I could feel the phallus between my legs, pushing at my sex through my gown. I realized suddenly that I was aching for it.

Such deviance. Such perversion as this surely must never before have been explored. No woman ever felt such desires as I felt now, and certainly it meant that there was something wrong with me. I was so ashamed of my wanton lust, and yet my shame did nothing to discourage my explorations.

“What is it?” I finally managed to say.

“It is called a dildo. A wicked device serving no purpose but to excite the loins of a woman.”

Wickedness, perversion, that was my pursuit now. My life’s work. All of the virtues of virginity and chastity meant nothing in that moment. Want was all I had and was my mistress now.

I rose up as she pulled my gown from my body. We kissed each other, caressed each other. Madeline was savoring every inch of my flesh and I was content to let her. Even my curiosity about the object she now wore was not enough to make me want to rush her. She suckled my nipples like an infant and slid her hands between my legs, gathering my wetness and licking it from her fingers.

“You know this will hurt at first?” she said.

I nodded. I had heard what it was to lose one’s virginity.

“Are you sure this is what you want?”

Was it? I had to wonder. I did not love this woman. I loved Molly, and would have harbored no doubts had Molly asked such a thing of me. I wondered at that moment if I should not be in love before doing this. I contemplated for a time before deciding that I would never, could never, love again.

I smiled up at her, nodding my head. “I’m ready,” I whispered.

Madeline pressed her lips to mine and drove her tongue into my mouth. Waves of excitement and heat washed over me, and finally she held herself above me. Again I nodded my head.

She was gentle but quick about it. She pushed the phallus into me and I felt the tearing of flesh. I gasped in pain, but fought not to show anything more.

The pain vanished quickly. Madeline worked the dildo in and out, driving it deep within me, and each time I groaned, cried out, or gasped. I felt so full, where Molly’s fingers had never provided such sensation.

At long last I felt my climax growing in my loins, and I tore at Madeline’s buttocks, urging her to move faster, to go deeper, to push harder.

Madeline grabbed a pillow from under my head and covered my face as I screamed out. I hardly even realized I had until it was too late. Surely the neighbors would have heard me. Surely they would know of the deviant and wanton behavior we were now engaging in. Part of me expected the knock of a constable at the door at any moment.

I wanted to wear the dildo. I wanted to return the pleasure to Madeline, but she would not hear of it. Instead I was encouraged between her legs where I happily lapped at her sex. I knew what I was doing, though I had not done it in a very long time. I feared I might have forgotten how, but I had not, and it was as exquisite as I remembered.

When at last Madeline pushed her hips into the mattress and moaned loudly, I nearly climaxed a second time myself.

We slept that night with her holding me from behind, and I lying in the darkness only wished that it had been Molly. It was not regret I felt. I did not regret what we had done. I only wished that it could have been in the light of the love I felt for Molly.

I awoke just before dawn. Madeline would sleep a while longer, as I prepared breakfast for us both. It was quite a fine meal, eggs and sausage.

Madeline’s shop did a good turn of business. Even as unusual as the woman must seem to most, she had a fine reputation, and her clients were very loyal.

That evening, Madeline joined me at the small table we took our meals from. She ate quietly, smiling up at me from time to time.

“What is it?” I finally asked.

Her smile broadened and she set her fork down. “Do you feel different?” she asked. “I felt different the first time.”

“My loins ache,” I admitted. “And I suppose I do feel different. But I cannot quite guess how.”

Had Madeline, I asked myself, been invaded by such an object? Did she once have a woman who guided her as I now felt she was guiding me? Molly could have been a passing fancy, I supposed, a childhood indulgence, but this was something more than that.

What I felt with Madeline was not a passing fancy. I knew what I desired and I had gone after it. I had gotten it. I could hardly imagine what I had done. It would be years before the importance Madeline played in my life fully dawned on me.

“The pain will pass,” she assured me. “You’ll feel it a little less every time until you feel only pleasure.”

Every time, she had said. I could only hope she meant that. That she intended to indulge our perversions fully and often.

When breakfast was done, I cleaned the table and the dishes and she went down to her shop to begin the day’s work. I had much to do every day, but on this day I could only think of the night before.

A year prior, I would have thought that such a thing might disgust me. My flesh invaded by something in the form of a male member. It was enough to make me feel ill, but I had not felt ill the night before. Knowing it was Madeline made this acceptable. Made it pleasurable.

We lived this way for another few weeks before questions began to arise from those around us, and Madeline settled on the story that I was a cousin come to help her. The story was good enough and the questions stopped. Whatever anyone might think or suspect they kept to themselves.

I said that my new life began with her, and it did. But it was not the sexual explorations that made my new life new. It was my introduction to the dark underside of Philadelphia. I could never have suspected that such things existed here had she not shown me.

Madeline told me not to prepare supper on a particular night. She closed her shop at six and came up, hurriedly bathing and dressing in a lovely purple vest and black breeches. She led me out of the house and to the street where we hailed a cab.

We rode for an hour, deep into the city. Madeline sat quietly, smiling and looking at me. She knew what I was going to see, but I could only guess. At long last we stopped in what seemed a prosperous district and got out of the cab. She paid the driver and led me to a stairwell going just below street level. The scent of wine and beer wafted up, and from inside I heard a voice rasied in song. A tavern? Indeed it was, but not like any I could have imagined.

We descended the stair where a bearded, uniformed man welcomed Madeline, and then, after a glance and a wink at me, opened the door, affording us passage.

I did not at first recognize the new world I had stepped into. It was not until closer inspection that I realized the majority of people in this tavern were women, and those I had taken for men or boys were not that at all, but instead like my Maddy.

I did not know what to think. So many unusual women here in this one place. Were they all like me? Did they all come in hopes of finding even one night’s pleasure with another of their own sex?

What had Maddy done to me? I was a lady, and my unwholesome desires heretofore had been kept secret, but here that was no secret. The knowing glances and smiles, the familiar greetings and introductions, all this meant that everyone around understood what Maddy and I did in the secrecy of her room. Did they know about the wicked device she kept hidden ‘neath her bed? Did they know that I welcomed it into me?

I was immediately ashamed. Blushing and nearly in tears, I turned and made my way toward the door, but Madeline stopped me.

“What is it?” she asked.

I turned to her, my eyes filled with shame. I cannot even today adequately describe my humiliation. Madeline saw it, though, and I believe she even understood.

“These women are friends,” she insisted. “What they know of us, we know of them. There is no need of secrets here.” She gently urged me back inside. “Nowhere in the world should you find such kind and accepting hearts.”

I tried to believe her. I wanted to believe her. Still, something within me could not relax that night.

“Maddy!” a woman in breeches and soldier’s jacket exclaimed. She shook my Maddy’s hand, then looked over her shoulder at me. “And who is this enchanting creature who graces you with her presence?”

I blushed and turned away. The woman stepped around Madeline and grasped my hand in hers, kissing it like a man. “Charmed, I’m sure,” she said with a smile.

“Careful, Catherine. She’s with me.”

“Indeed.” The woman patted Madeline on the shoulder and smiled, her eyes never leaving me. “Does she have a name, I wonder?”

“Elizabeth,” I answered with a quick curtsey.

Catherine bowed low before me, sweeping her hat in front of her. “Catherine Pennington, at your service, m’lady.”

She then turned to Madeline, and they spoke quietly for a moment before Catherine raised her voice and called to the barkeep to provide us a drink of our choosing at her expense. Soon she left us alone to enjoy our drinks, returning to a throng of similarly dressed women. I watched her for some time with no small level of fascination.

“She owns the house above,” Madeline told me.

I tore my eyes away from the others and looked at her.

“Her father died in the Revolution. Gave his life to free us.”

“Then he was a hero,” I said.

“He was a fiend that did one good thing.”

“He fought for us?”

“He died,” she stated.

I will never know why Maddy would say something so cruel. Never again did anything that horrible pass her lips, and Catherine herself never spoke to me of her father in any detail.

Madeline drank down a tankard of ale all at once, and set the empty on the table. “Her mother took ill and lives above. This place, it is hers. And very exclusive. We are fortunate to be welcomed here. Mostly it is only for the very wealthy.”

“Is this, then, a condition of the wealthy?” I said.

“Are we wealthy?” she asked me.

We were not. We did well and lived well, but not without a great deal of work and saving. Above us in this house there were surely servants, maids, cooks, and the like. Madeline and I could never afford such luxury.

She smiled and kissed my cheek. “I do not know what makes us this way. But I don’t care, I simply enjoy it.”

She enjoyed it? How, I wondered. I was so ashamed of my perversions. My unnatural desires troubled me deeply, and I dearly wished it was not so. Truly it was both love and hate. A part of me loved what I had become, but the lady I had been raised to be hated it — yet Madeline enjoyed it. My admiration of her grew that night. She was free within herself. I hoped that perhaps someday I could learn to be so free.

We drank and talked for the rest of the night. It was early morning when Madeline took me from the tavern back out to the streets. We walked along quietly for some time before she began to look for a suitable cab.

I thought we should never find a ride, but at length a coachman stopped for us and Madeline opened the door, helping me inside. A moment later we were in each other’s drunken arms, kissing and touching as the carriage bumped and swayed toward her home.

We arrived at the house and Madeline jumped out, taking my hand to help me down. She paid the driver, and we stumbled and giggled our way upstairs.

I knew what Madeline had in mind when she pulled me close and ran her hands to my bottom, squeezing it gently. She wanted the same thing I did. The same thing we both always seemed to want.

It is the one thing about a perversion, I think. To have it in one’s mind is not a terrible thing. I believe nearly all people must ponder over such things at some time or another in their lives. Especially a lady, as I. We are to forever be the focus of someone else’s baser desires, but are forbidden ourselves to have these desires or to enjoy the act. We are expected to be ashamed and disdainful of such things. Yet surely all ladies must live a rich and secret fantasy life, I suspect.

However, indulge your desire just once, allow your perverse fantasies to be made real only a single time, and you are given over to them forever. I did not know what wickedness had seized me, but I could not have escaped it now. It had been released from Pandora’s box and never could I put it back.

But even worse than the sins I committed every moment of every day, while acting in essence as the wife of this farrier I had come to know, I did not wish to chase this demon away. Even as much as I hated it, also did I love my wicked heart and all of the forbidden pleasures it had brought me. I loved it with great shame.

I would not have been able to admit this then. I can only say it now, years later. Now that I have explored my every perversion, and such things as being a wife to this woman seem so tame and unexciting.

Her tongue invaded my mouth and I indulged her. I cupped her breasts in my hands, removed her vest and unbuttoned her shirt. She tugged at my dress and opened my undergarments until all could easily be pulled away. We fell naked onto the bed, and as she kissed me, Madeline reached down to pull the bag and its forbidden contents from beneath the bed.

I had come to love her wicked device. It brought me no less pleasure than her tongue and far more than her fingers. She drew it up her legs and buckled it around her waist. A devious smiled played at her lips as she enjoyed my anticipation.

She pressed it against my sex, sliding the tip up and down along my opening. I shuddered and moaned. She was preparing me. I held her breasts in my hands using my thumbs to tease her nipples as she teased my loins.

Finally, when I thought surely I could bear no more, she slid the phallus inside me and I threw my head back with a breathy sigh. Yes, yes, and yes, this is what I longed for.

Madeline pushed it in deeply and slowly at first, but her movements grew in speed over time. We rocked together, my hands going from her breasts to her soft bottom. I pulled her deeper, ever deeper.

Suddenly she took me in her arms and rolled us over, bringing me to sit atop her, straddling her hips and now able to accept the dildo as deeply as I desired. This was a new experience for me, and it brought a new brand of ecstasy as I bounced up and down on her, bringing myself to shattering ecstasy.

I fell forward on her and closed my eyes, needing a moment to recover. She gently stroked my back. She knew. Madeline too had felt such a thing, but now enjoyed the role of instructor. This much at least I understood.

Soon I eased forward a little until her dildo was free of my sex. I helped her remove it, then began shifting down on the bed to take my usual place between her thighs. She stopped me, though, turning me above her until my face lay between her legs and hers between mine.

What terrible and exquisite wickedness did she now have in mind for me? With a presumed understanding of what I was expected to do, I pressed my tongue to her sex, lapping at the opening and at the knot she had taught me was called the clitoris. She returned my forbidden kiss, and we exchanged these pleasures for quite some time before the familiar building from within the center of my loins encouraged me to a more regular rhythm, rocking against her mouth.

It seemed that this encouraged her as well, and to my surprise we both achieved climax at the same time, not ceasing then, but licking, kissing, and sucking at one another through more peaks until at long last we both relaxed.

I rolled off her onto the bed, lying on my side and folding my legs behind me. I stroked her legs and belly. I loved her soft skin. She gently caressed me, and though her hands were rough with hard labor, there was a gentleness to her touch.

It was not love I felt, but I was content with what it was. Madeline, I knew, loved me, and I said the words so as not to hurt her feelings but I did not feel it. All the same, this was something I could envision as lasting forever. It truly was wonderful, living with her. The days of work and togetherness, the sinful nights. I imagined it to be this way for the the rest of my life, and was quite satisfied.

Continue on to Chapter 4

Teaching the Girls, Chapter 8

  • Posted on December 26, 2017 at 7:02 am

By Naughty Mommy

After that we stopped for dinner, the five of us marching downstairs, proudly naked. Quite a crew!

The table was already set, I found, and as Cherise began to slice the freshly baked bread and Danielle served up big bowls of incredibly delicious-smelling beef stew from the slow cooker, and as Addison poured juice for the girls and Kay opened a bottle of red wine, I simply stood there smiling like a goof. A very happy goof!!

Yeah, I know I’m probably using way too many exclamation points according to the so-called experts, but I mean, how could I not feel totally fantastic?! Not only did I get to have sex with these super cute little girls and then suck their mom’s nipples, but now they were going to feed me too!! And it all smelled unbelievably great!!!

We sat down to eat, grinning and chattering. Kay asked if I would like to have a glass of wine, and I said sure. I knew my parents wouldn’t mind. Sometimes they let me drink a little wine with supper. They figured it was good for me to get used to it so I wouldn’t go crazy later. I figured they were right, and I enjoyed the taste.

The wine Kay poured was really good. It was a kind I’d never heard of, Egri Bikavér. She told me it was Hungarian, and that’s when I learned that Danielle’s grandparents on her mother’s side were both born in Hungary. They’d emigrated to the United States from Budapest as a young married couple in the 1950s, living for a short time in New Jersey before moving to Baltimore.

“That’s where she gets her good looks,” Kay winked. “Hungarian girls are the most beautiful in the world.”

“Aww, thanks,” Danielle blushed.

So, everything was just perfect: the wine, the food, the conversation, and especially the scenery — all those lovely nude feminine bodies — I couldn’t have asked for more. Well, I did ask for seconds of beef stew after scarfing down my first bowl, sopping up the rich broth with another slice of homemade bread. Yes, I was in heaven. No doubt about it.

When the meal was over, and the small amount of cleanup quickly handled, I expected we would probably head back upstairs to the master bedroom, but I was in for a surprise.

“Let’s just go in the living room, all right?” Kay suggested. “We can take our glasses in there and relax.” She’d opened a second bottle of wine, so we took that with us, and the kids brought their refilled glasses of juice along too.

The blinds were drawn, and we had plenty of privacy. Kay and Danielle settled on the couch, their daughters snuggling in beside them, while I sat in an armchair, crossing my legs and sipping my wine. I noted with amusement that this was the same seat I’d occupied on the previous Saturday afternoon after I first arrived, before any of our delightfully illicit sexual activities had taken place. So much had happened since then, and all of it wonderful!

We chatted for a couple of minutes about nothing in particular, until Danielle said, wagging her eyebrows, “So, what’s next on the teaching protocol, Britt? I’m eager for us to get started again.”

“Oh, um, okay…”

I felt my heart pounding, the color rising in my cheeks. Even though it all had gone just right so far, my plan working precisely as I’d hoped, we still had some major boundaries to cross. Would they think I was a total pervert, asking for what I wanted next?

Actually, that wasn’t quite right. The next thing was only halfway perverted, no worse than any of the things we’d done before, which everyone enjoyed. Okay, so, settle down, Britt, I said to myself. You can do this. You can make it happen.

I forced a smile. “Well, I think now we should find out if the girls were really paying attention. You know, when I was showing them how to make love to a woman’s breasts. I’d like them to try it with me and see how well they do, okay?”

“Ooh, yeah…” Kay rubbed her hands together. “I can’t wait to see that.”

We rearranged ourselves, the women getting up while I moved to the couch, sitting in the middle between Addison and Cherise. The naked little girls giggled and clutched my arms.

There were two large, comfortable chairs in the room, not far from the couch and facing diagonally toward it. That’s where I assumed Kay and Danielle would be. I was right about that — except before they sat down, they opened the bottom drawer in a side cabinet and got out a pair of big fluffy towels, placing them on the chairs beneath them.

Pretty smart, I thought, preparing in advance for the overflow. I hadn’t noticed Kay being unusually gooey, but Danielle definitely was a gusher.

“All right, we’re ready,” said Kay, winking at me.

Her hand was already busily working between her legs, rubbing her pussy. She could never get enough, it seemed. Kay was constantly touching herself, striving for the next climax.

I had to wonder, when I reached my thirties, would I be that way too? Able to come, like, ten or more times a day? It’s true that when I was with these women and their daughters, playing our sexy games, my orgasm count certainly did increase. But normally, on my own, three or maybe four was about my maximum. After that I was too worn out. Maybe older women were just like that, with even stronger needs than a teenager and more stamina as well. Someday, presumably, I would find out for myself.

“Go ahead, honey,” said Danielle, “you can start now.”

Oops. Once again I’d allowed my ruminating to get in the way of action. It was time to get on with things.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” I grinned. “I just like watching you guys. You’re both very hot.”

“Thanks,” Danielle nodded. She was masturbating too, slumped in her chair, running a slender finger up and down through her juicy slit, spectacular long legs spread wide. It was quite a sight, extremely erotic.

On the other hand, cuddling next to me were two adorable little girls, only nine and ten years old, smiling and eager for sex. And that, of course, was even more erotic — making love with such young kids was absolutely forbidden, but so incredibly desirable!

I looked back and forth between them, making steady eye contact, letting them connect with me. When I thought they were ready, properly focused, I said in a quiet voice, “All right, let’s see how much you both have learned. Do you remember how to start?”

“Just with touching,” said Cherise. “Um, only light touching, with your fingertips.”

“Yeah, and, like, go slow at first,” Addison put in.

“That’s right, very good,” I said to them. “So, why don’t you begin, one on either side, okay?”

Oh my god, can you imagine how wonderful this was? A pair of darling girls, so young they had no boobs yet, but they both were touching me, and so lovingly, small hands tenderly caressing, moving around my breasts, slowly circling, fingers edging closer and closer to my nipples.

“Mmm, that’s really nice,” I murmured. “You’re doing very, very well.”

By now my nipples were as hard as they could be, throbbing and begging for attention. There was only one problem. The kids, it seemed, had taken my earlier instruction all too literally. They were going slow, all right, maybe too slow. It was almost like there was a contest between them, to see who could take the longest time before reaching my nipple. Their little fingertips softly circled, around and around and around, coming ever closer but never quite touching.

Were they trying to drive me insane? If so, they were succeeding. I had to put a stop to it.

In a voice choked with arousal, I said, “That’s… enough of that, I think. You can do the next thing now.”

“Are you aching?” Addison giggled. “Like my mom said she was?”

“Yes, I am,” I nodded, “definitely.”

“Does it make you want to come?” the girl added with a mischievous grin.

“Uh-huh, it sure does.”

“Mmmm, fuck — you’re gonna make me come.” That was Kay. She was pumping two fingers in and out of her cunt. They were soaked with her juices.

I didn’t reply to the woman, just gave her a quick smile. Instead I said to the girls, “Go on, um… do, you know, the next thing.”

“Okay,” said Cherise. She brought her index finger to her mouth, licking the tip. Addison did the same. Then they placed their wet fingertips on the very ends of my nipples, rubbing in tiny circles.

“Goddamn,” I groaned, my head falling back, eyes closed.

The electric tingling sensation went straight from my nipples to my clit. It felt like I was on fire. I swear the kids could have made me come just by doing that. Except I wanted still more from them, much more.

“Now,” I croaked, “u-use your tongues now.”

“But what about, don’t we do this first?” asked Cherise.

I raised my head again, opening my heavy-lidded eyes. Cherise was holding her fingers in a cone shape, exactly the way I’d shown them with Kay and then with Danielle.

“Um, yeah, all right, do that first.”

So they did. The girls each placed a hand over one breast, and slowly drew their small fingers up, bringing them together, lightly squeezing and pulling on my nipples, repeating this several times.

God, it felt so fucking good. I gritted my teeth, squeezing my legs together. Should I masturbate? I certainly wanted to, but I was also supposed to be teaching them, and maybe that should take precedent. It was hard to think straight with so much lust and desire coursing through my body.

Before I could decide what to do, they went on to the next step. Addison and Cherise, the two sexy fourth-graders, started flicking their little tongues over the tips of my nipples.

Now I was incapable of resisting. Without making a conscious decision, my hands went between my legs, fingers stroking my erect clit.

Both girls flattened their tongues, sliding up and down, then going around in circles on my tits.

“Fuck, yeah, don’t stop,” I told them. “Don’t stop!”

They didn’t stop, and they weren’t going slow anymore either. Almost instinctively, it seemed, they began to suck.

Dimly I heard throaty grunting noises from Kay and Danielle, the moms of these children who were nursing at my breasts. It sounded like both women were coming, but I couldn’t hear them clearly — because I was screaming so loud, climaxing with two little girls sucking on my nipples as I furiously rubbed my cunt.

 

“Can we lick you now?” said Addison.

I blinked, opening my eyes partway. “Huh…? What?”

“Can we lick you now?” she repeated. “I wanna taste you again.”

“Yeah, me too,” agreed Cherise. “I do too.”

The kids were kneeling on either side of me, actually bouncing on the sofa cushions in their eagerness.

“Yes, do that,” said Kay, who’d risen from her chair and was standing close to us. She was nude, of course, hands gently massaging her womanly body, one between her legs, the other on her breasts. “You don’t mind, do you, Britt?”

Obviously, I didn’t mind. I would love having the girls do that, though I was still only half-conscious after such an overpowering orgasm.

I shook my head, trying to clear it. My vision was blurry. Maybe I’d had too much wine at dinner, two full glasses, or maybe I’d simply had too much sex — no, not that! A person could never have too much sex!!

“What’s so funny?” asked Addison, grinning at me.

I realized I was giggling uncontrollably. When I came in earlier that afternoon, I’d thought the women seemed giddy, intoxicated, but now I was the one.

“It’s nothing,” I managed to reply, taking a deep breath and pushing myself up a little bit. “I’m just happy, that’s all.”

“Aww, that’s sweet,” said Kay. She sat down next to me, nudging Addison to the side, and gave me a big hug while plastering my cheek with wet kisses. “I’m so glad you’re happy, Britt. You’ve made us happy too, very very happy.”

Danielle joined us on the couch, squeezing in between me and Cherise, wrapping her long arms around me and adorning my face with more kisses, saying, “Yeah, we really do want to thank you, honey. You have no idea how happy you’ve made us.”

“Wait! I wanna hug her too!” cried Addison, climbing over her mom to flop on top of me, hugging and kissing. Suddenly Cherise was there as well, and I was completely covered by an avalanche of naked feminine bodies rubbing up against me, two beautiful women and their sexy young daughters.

This love fest went on for at least half a minute, maybe longer, until I thought I might suffocate. Finally Kay drew back, saying, “Now what was it you girls said you wanted to do with Britt?”

“Lick her!” said Addison.

“Lick her pussy!” said Cherise.

And so they did. Once again, as on the previous Saturday, I had both kids between my legs, smiling up at me, licking and fingering and giggling and sucking and kissing. Beside me on the couch were their mothers, leaning in close, watching everything and rubbing themselves.

Although the girls still weren’t experts and a lot more instruction would be required — which I would happily provide — their eager enthusiasm, combined with my awareness of what was happening, how deliciously wrong and dirty it all was, brought me quickly to the brink.

“You’re gonna, you’re gonna fucking make me come!!” I panted.

“You want us to fuck you?” asked Addison. To Cherise, she said, “Put your finger in her, okay? And I will too. Together, both at once.”

“Okay!”

I felt two fingers pushing up inside my wet vagina, probing, stretching, reaching deep, and then I felt their warm tongues on my clit — “God! YES!!” I cried, erupting into climax.

 

Following my second titanic orgasm in the space of only about fifteen minutes, I really needed to rest for a bit. The women drank more wine, the kids yakked and had some juice, while I semi-snoozed on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep. I wanted very badly to do more with them, not give up for the night, but temporarily, at least, I was wiped out.

Fortunately it didn’t take too long for me to gather myself. Or maybe it did take a while. I don’t know, I’m not sure how long it was. At any rate, I finally sat up, took a deep breath, then smiled at everyone and said, “Okay, I feel a lot better now. Thanks for letting me sort of recuperate.”

Kay, who was seated beside me, placed her hand on my leg, softly patting. As if she could read my thoughts, she said, “Are you sure you don’t want to just call it a night, sweetie? It’s no problem if you feel that way. We understand.”

“No, I, um… there’s still more stuff I want to do. And I, I’m fine, really. I want to keep going.”

“All right. If you’re sure.”

“Yeah, I am. Definitely. I’m ready.”

“Okay, so, what is it you want to do next?” Kay asked.

“Well, uh, I actually think it might work better if we go upstairs again, to your bedroom. If, you know, if you guys don’t mind.”

“You’re the boss,” said Danielle, “or maybe I should say you’re the teacher. Anyhow, you just tell us what to do, Britt, and we’ll do it.”

That was exactly what I wanted to hear. And if these women really meant it, then it shouldn’t be too hard for me to achieve what I was aiming for, to take the next big step.

First, however, I needed to check on the two kids, sitting on the floor in front of us, drinking their juice. Might they be getting bored, restless, their attention spans running out?

“You guys, um, Addison and Cherise? Do you still want to keep doing this kind of stuff?” I asked. “Because I mean, we don’t have to. We can play games or watch a movie or do something else if you’d rather…”

They both looked at me like I was crazy. Cherise frowned. Addison shook her head, then put a hand between her legs, stroking her hairless pussy, and said, “I don’t wanna play any games now — except for these kinds of games!” She burst into laughter, and the others joined her.

So much for short attention spans. They were ready for more sex, and so was I!

When we got upstairs to Kay’s room, I asked the moms to sit on the bed, leaning on pillows against the headboard. Then I positioned their daughters with them, Cherise next to Danielle, Addison beside Kay. I was on my knees in the center of the king-size bed, facing them.

“Okay, so,” I began, “the next thing is more practice. The girls did a good job on me, like, touching and licking my boobs. But I want them to keep practicing now, get more experience.”

“Wait — what?” said Kay.

“It’s just for teaching,” I told her. “They have to get experience, so why not do it with you, right?”

“But…”

Danielle intervened, “No, really, I think it’s fine. Britt’s our teacher. She knows what’s best.”

Kay turned to her. “Are you sure?”

“Uh-huh,” Danielle nodded. She was holding her small tits in her hands, lightly massaging them and squeezing the nipples. “I think we should do this. I really do.”

“Well, uh… all right,” Kay said slowly. “I suppose we can, if it’s just for teaching.”

“Of course it is,” I assured her. “The only way these kids can learn is by doing, and they both need a lot more practice.”

“Ooh, goodie!” Addison giggled, bouncing on her knees next to her mom.

Cherise, meanwhile, was licking her lips as she stared at Danielle’s breasts, ogling her mother’s hard nipples.

“So, um, ladies, put your hands down at your sides,” I said. They did, and then I told the girls they could begin, doing all the things I’d taught them previously.

I sat and watched, quickly becoming aroused. Addison and Cherise were good students, had learned their lessons well. They took it slow at first, as instructed, but it was immediately evident that the gentle caress of their small fingers was having a powerful effect.

Both Kay and Danielle were breathing quickly, chests rising and falling. Their nipples were stiffly erect, though they hadn’t been directly touched yet by the girls. The women squirmed on the bed, hands fidgeting, and I saw them squeezing their legs together.

We came to the next part. The kids grinned at one another. They’d finished circling their mother’s breasts, moving closer and closer — ever so close — without quite contacting the turgid nipples. Now they each licked the end of one index finger and placed it over the tip of a nipple.

“No, uh, do both,” I said. “Lick two fingers and do both nipples at once.”

“Oh, okay,” said Addison, with Cherise nodding in agreement.

This was almost too much for the women. When they felt those moist fingertips teasing, tickling their nipples, Kay and Danielle groaned in unison, bodies shuddering dramatically. It was amusing, in a way, to see such an exaggerated response, but I could easily tell they weren’t faking. They were extremely turned on, and I was too!

“Now, uh…” I had to stop and clear my throat, “now your tongues. Don’t worry about using your hands any more, just your tongues and your mouths.”

As I gave the girls this instruction, my hand went between my own legs. My clit was throbbing, so incredibly sensitive. I knew I could make myself come with only a few strokes, but for the moment I avoided that, instead massaging my labia and the opening to my vagina. I wanted to wait if possible, try to manage it so I would reach orgasm at the same time the women did — assuming, of course, that they were willing to go that far, climax in such an intimate fashion, with their daughters sucking their nipples. Would they do that?

It didn’t seem there would be much resistance. Both moms were feverishly masturbating. I hadn’t told them to and they hadn’t asked permission. It just happened automatically.

I saw Cherise glance back at me. It appeared she might be concerned about skipping a step, but I didn’t care. To hell with the curriculum — I wanted to see the little girls’ mouths on their mothers’ breasts! I nodded at her to continue, and she did.

Addison was already flicking her tongue over Kay’s nipples, going back and forth between her tits, licking one nipple then the other.

“Fuck yeah fuck yeah fuck yeah,” Kay muttered as her fingers worked rapidly between her legs.

Cherise leaned in and licked Danielle’s hard brown nipple.

“GOD!!” the woman exclaimed, her body shaking.

So that issue was resolved, halfway at least. Danielle climaxed with Cherise licking her nipple. The girl hadn’t even started sucking yet.

I hadn’t come yet either, and I was glad about that. I really wanted to see everything, see as much of this as I could before an orgasm overwhelmed me.

“Suck my nipple, baby,” Kay suddenly hissed to her daughter. “Suck it!”

Another step would be skipped — no flattened tongue circling the nipple, just sucking right away — and that was fine with me.

Addison curled up next to her mom. Smiling, looking as happy as I had ever seen the girl, she ran her tongue one time around the engorged pink nipple, then took the breast in her mouth.

Kay didn’t climax immediately. Perhaps she wanted to put it off, as I was attempting, so she could enjoy the delicious sensations a little longer. I’ve never had a child, and I doubt I ever will, but I do love having my nipples sucked by a pretty girl. I can only imagine how wonderful it would be if that girl was your own beautiful daughter.

At any rate, Kay was petting Addison’s hair, cooing to the child. She was still masturbating, and breathing hard, though her fingers were not moving quite as fast as before.

Meanwhile, Cherise had crawled onto her mother’s lap. Danielle had an arm around the girl, and with the other hand was cupping a breast, raising it, offering the erect nipple to her daughter.

I watched as Cherise looked up into Danielle’s eyes. They gazed at one another for a moment, then the woman bent down, tenderly kissing the child’s lips.

“Go ahead, sweetheart,” Danielle whispered.

Cherise giggled, squirming with excitement like a kid at Christmas. Then she took the offered nipple, closing her lips over it, and began to suck. Danielle groaned, and the hand that had been holding her breast went back between her legs, rubbing her clit.

“So nice,” I murmured to myself, “so nice.”

I had a finger deep inside my cunt, slowly moving in and out. My other hand was on my chest, squeezing my tits, pulling and twisting the nipples. I was getting close, almost on the edge, nearly there. But still I wanted to wait, hoping to see two more things…

First, would Kay allow herself to reach climax as Danielle had done? Or did she perhaps think that would be taboo, going a little too far? Second, would the girls do even more, maybe do what I’d fantasized about, sliding their hands down to touch their mother’s pussies? That would be so amazing to see!

The first question was soon answered.

Although Kay had briefly seemed to slow things down a bit, she was quickly heating up again. I could see her whole body trembling with arousal. Her cheeks were flushed, face shiny with sweat, fingers moving faster now between her legs.

Then I heard her say the exact same thing she’d said to me only a few hours earlier. “That’s right, suck Mommy’s nipple, baby girl. Make Mommy come!”

Addison opened her eyes. Without releasing the tit from her mouth, she turned her head slightly and looked up at her mother.

“Uh-huh,” Kay nodded to her. “Make Mommy come, little girl. Make Mommy come!”

The child grinned. I could actually see Kay’s fat pink nipple inside Addison’s mouth, held between her teeth, before she resumed her eager sucking.

I was rubbing myself faster too, no longer avoiding my clit but squeezing it with my juicy, slippery fingers, feeling that wonderful surge from within, the thrilling rise of an impending climax.

“Goddamn yes!” said Kay. “Make me come, little baby! Mommy wants to come while you suck her fucking nipple!!”

And with these thrillingly dirty words, the woman soared over the top, gasping and shuddering.

I came with her, and in the moment before I was forced to shut my eyes, I saw Danielle reach climax again as well. She groaned and shook, one hand clamped between her legs, the other clutching Cherise’s head, pulling her little girl’s face against her breast.

Continue on to Chapter 9

Blue Christmas

  • Posted on December 25, 2017 at 7:07 am

By Rebecka

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in January 2010 }

It’s always the same. Blue blows into town, screws with me until I don’t know what end I should be putting food into, and then she’s gone again. It’s been like this since we were in school.

Blue is my best friend. She is two days older than me, celebrating her birthday on the 26th of May, where mine is on the 28th. We went to the same schools together, K-12, and then were roommates all through college. She took a job as an airline attendant; I went to work for my dad. I love Blue, and I hate her.

“Hey, Guido. I’m laying over for the weekend. Want to get drunk?”

 

* * *

 

Guido was my nickname with Blue, had been ever since middle school. I have no idea where the name came from. She just called me that one afternoon in bed.

“Guido??” I had protested.

At the time, she’d had my left nipple in her mouth and couldn’t answer. She nodded, however, and bunched my small breast between her fingertips to make the nipple puff up. She loved to suck my nipples in those early days, as I loved to suck hers, and of course we still do. At thirteen, I didn’t have much in the way of boobies, though. (Not that I do now.)

I ran my hands through her thick, black hair, still long back then, pulling it behind her head so that I could enjoy my nipple pleasure visually as well as physically. ”Don’t you give me another hickey,” I warned.

“I will if I want to.”

“My mom was furious with me the last time.”

“I’ll put it somewhere she won’t see.” She had once left one on the inside of my thigh, just inches below my crotch. If my mother had seen that

“Don’t give me one at all,” I said, “and I don’t have to worry about it.”

She proceeded to give me one just below my nipple.

“Blue!” I cried. “I told you not to do that!”

She gave me another one, on my other breast just below the nipple. She was such a devil, then and now.

 

* * *

 

“I can be there at your place in half an hour,” she taunted. “We can do it there or go out somewhere, whichever you like.”

“Cut it out,” I said, cupping my hand around the receiver. Dad was in the other room. I lived with my parents.

“When are you getting an apartment of your own?” she demanded.

“When are you going to stop ragging me about it?” I countered. I’d had an apartment for two years after graduation, had gone through three roommates, and finally gave the apartment up when I got laid off. I hadn’t worked for my dad at the time, though I did again now. I couldn’t afford a place of my own. Not until I got a little something saved up.

“I’m at the Hyatt again. Why don’t you pop over, we’ll have a little fun, and then go clubbing?”

The intent of this idea was, that being too drunk to drive home, I would stay the night with Blue in her hotel room, crashed out on the second bed. The thing was, Blue always insisted on a king-sized bed whenever she was in town. Mom and Dad didn’t know that. Though disapproving of my party-going, they did applaud my restraint in not drinking and driving.

“You know I’m gonna say yes,” I grumped.

“Of course you’re gonna say yes,” she replied airily. “You always say yes. You love me.”

The truth was, I loved Blue enough to marry her if I somehow could.

“I’ll be there in half an hour,” I said and hung up. She asks, and I do anything she wants.

On the way over, I fussed and fumed about the impropriety of being in love with someone who thought nothing of deserting me for months at a time. I wouldn’t get a phone call, a letter, an email — nothing, until she suddenly appeared in town and called me. Infuriating. And yet, the instant she was in my sight I lost all trace of my anger. It just melted away. Especially, if, as I suspected would happen tonight, she pulled me to her, right there in the hotel room doorway and stuck her tongue down my throat. Our last time together we hadn’t even made it to the bed.

At the Hyatt, I parked in a luckily open space right up front, walked into the lobby and pressed the Send button on my cell phone. “I’m here,” I said, when she answered.

“Room 723. Turn right getting off the elevator. I’ll be the one standing in the middle of the hallway in my corset, thigh-highs, and thong panties.”

“I wish,” I said, blushing at the thought. Knowing Blue, that might be exactly where she’d be when I got off the elevator.

Fortunately, it wasn’t. I walked down the long hallway to her door and tapped lightly. She opened the door, and stood there in a white cotton blouse buttoned in one place between her breasts. The arm against the door in a seductive pose drew her shirt tails apart, showing her baby-smooth crotch.

“Blue!” Mortified, I tossed a glance over my shoulder at the door opposite us. Was that a flicker in the peephole, someone looking out? I was twice as mortified when I looked back and discovered that she had undone the one button holding the shirt together and had now exposed her breasts. “Blue!” I squealed again, pushing her into the room.

The instant I was inside and the door closed behind me, Blue flipped the shirt back over her shoulders, grabbed me to her and kissed me. My purse hit the floor, and was followed an instant later by my coat. As always, I was nothing but ravenous for her on first sight. She had my top off over my head and my bra pulled down exposing my left nipple, which she latched onto hungrily.

“Oh, God,” she moaned. “You have no idea how much I missed your nipples.” A minute later she had me naked in bed and was giving my tongue a workout it hadn’t seen since she’d last had me in bed.

“You haven’t been with anyone,” she said perceptively.

“No,” I moaned as she attacked my poor neck. I’d go home tomorrow with a hundred, strategically placed hickies that no one besides myself was allowed to see.

I gasped as a long, hungry finger penetrated my wetness. An earthquake-strong shudder ran up and down my spine. I splayed myself, wanting her whole hand inside me. She attempted to cooperate.

“Wanna know something amazing?”

I was breathing very hard now. I had a hard time focusing on her eyes. “What?” I panted.

“I was faithful to you this time.”

I blinked at her. She laughed at my startled, disbelieving expression. She kissed me gently. The hand between my thighs became gentle, rather than demanding. She kissed me again.

“You didn’t think that possible of me, did you?” she whispered.

I didn’t know what to think. Blue was a sexual black hole; she attracted and then sucked in everyone around her. No one escaped her event horizon. She couldn’t be resisted, nor did she want to be resisted. It had haunted me all my life. Another reason I alternately loved and hated her.

Kissing my nose, she whispered. “I’m through with all that. A week after my last layover, I was in a bar in Cancun–”

“Cancun!” I exclaimed. She usually only did domestic flights.

“Yes, Cancun. Can I continue? I was sitting there in that bar, alternately eyeing some gorgeous blond with no boobs–” grinning, she looked down at my own small boobs “–and two or three guys whose cocks I wanted to suck. The next thing I know, I’m thinking about you leaning over me in bed with your long blond hair sweeping across my face.”

She ran her hand through my hair now. “I realized I didn’t want to be with anyone but you.”

Closing her eyes, she lowered her lips to mine and kissed me more lovingly than I’d ever been kissed in my life. When she raised her head some minutes later, it took time for the question she’d asked to penetrate the swirling mists of my thoughts.

“What?” I blurted out. “What did you just say?”

“I asked you to marry me, Guido.”

Dumbfounded, I just lay there with my mouth open and stared at her.

 

* * *

 

Our first time was when we were twelve years old. We had just gotten home from school and, as usual, Blue stayed with me because I hated being alone in the house. The year before, a man who was now in prison for breaking and entering and raping adolescent girls after school had surprised me in my bedroom.

“It’s not like he did anything to you,” Blue pointed out.

I unlocked the door, stepping inside to punch the code into the keypad beside the door jamb. “I wouldn’t call making me undress ‘nothing’, Blue.”

“So you were embarrassed. You get embarrassed every time you undress for gym. Big deal.”

Blushing, I closed the door and set the lock and the deadbolt. Blue didn’t really think nothing of my traumatic afternoon at the hands of my would-be rapist; she merely wanted to keep me from getting my head completely bent around it. She knew how terrified I’d been, and how helpless. Her feigned indifference helped me handle the anxiety.

Upstairs, we dropped our backpacks on the bed and shucked out of our coats. It was two days before Christmas, 1997. Blue’s family was flying out the following afternoon for her grandparent’s place in Minnesota, so this was our last chance to exchange presents. Blue’s gift was sitting on my nightstand: two CD’s of her favorite group. Mine, I assumed, was in her backpack.

Grabbing a brush off my dresser, I pulled my hair out of the ponytail and began to brush it. I hated my hair back in a ponytail. Blue liked it down, also.

“You have such great hair,” she said wistfully, sliding her fingers through the thin strands. Unexpectedly, she took the hairbrush from my hand, slid in behind me on the bed, and began methodically running the bristles straight down the middle of my back. For maybe the millionth time, I suppressed a shiver at the touch of her hands. I was in love with Blue, and the biggest fear of my life was that she would find out. She would laugh at me. Worse, she would stop being my friend.

And then, to my utter astonishment, she leaned forward and whispered in my ear, “Becca. There’s something I need to tell you. Please, please, tell me you feel the same way I do.”

My eyes flew open. I stopped breathing and maybe my heart even stopped beating. It certainly felt that way. It felt like the planet had stopped revolving.

I croaked out, “What?”

Blue kissed my neck. I jumped and gasped, twisting my head and half my upper body in order to see her. I know my eyes were big as dinner plates. My mouth was hanging open. I was terrified. In my wildest dreams, I had never imagined beautiful Blue, the prettiest girl in my class, the object of so many boy’s attention, the haunt of my waking hours, could feel anything toward me the way I felt toward her. It was impossible.

Sudden tears filled my eyes and I blurted out, “Stop it! How can you be so cruel? You call yourself my friend?”

I leapt from the bed, stumbled off balance, went down on my fingertips and crossed half the room on all fours before righting myself and dashing into the bathroom and slamming the door. I locked it with shaking hands and then leaned against it with my back, trembling head to foot, my palms against the smooth wooden surface, sobbing uncontrollably.

“Rebecca? God, I am so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?” I wailed. This was insane. It could not be happening. I was being punished for my presumptiveness.

“How I felt about you. I’ve been hiding it all these years. I’ve been in love with you since the first grade. Since the very first day you sat down with me to have lunch.”

I could remember that day clearly: Blue in a red corduroy jumper and white leggings. The L.L. Bean tag was sticking up in the back. I had folded it in for her, and we had started to talk. I was wearing a button-down white shirt and a plaid skirt and white leggings and new pink and white tennies that Mom had bought me over the weekend. Blue’s footwear were black, patent-leather Mary Jane’s that she hated: she said they pinched her toes. We talked about boys and giggled a lot.

“You’re teasing me,” I moaned.

I could imagine her on the other side of the door, her cell phone out, broadcasting our conversation to an eager, giggling audience wrapped around another cell phone, the speakerphone reciting our every word.

“I am not. For God’s sakes, Rebecca, how can you be my BFF and not know how I feel about you? We’re closer than sisters. Closer than twin sisters.”

That was true. I’d told things to Blue I’d never tell to another living human being, things I’d barely admit to myself. She had gotten me through the horrific first minutes of my first period; if not for her I’d have bled all over myself. We’d slept together a hundred times during sleepovers, whispering and giggling all night, tickling and revealing our darkest secrets . . . all except one, in my case.

She was right. I knew Blue as surely as I knew myself. Though her teasing was merciless and often verged on cruel, she would not lie to me. Certainly not about something like this.

I opened the door. Her face was in tears. Her eyes pleaded for understanding. I saw in them a potential for heartbreak that I’d never have imagined Blue capable of. I sniffed, wiped my eyes with the backs of my hands, and smiled tremblingly.

“You really want me?”

Sighing in relief (and rolling her eyes at the stupidity of my question), Blue leaned through the six inches of open doorway and kissed me on the lips.

 

* * *

 

“Are you out of your mind?” I raised up on my elbows and stared at her in disbelief. “Your father is a Baptist minister. A Southern Baptist minister,” I reminded her, in case she had forgotten.

She giggled softly and nodded her head. “That’s not a fact I’m liable to forget anytime soon, Guido.”

I could not control my thoughts. They swirled like dishwater circling a drain, frothy and full of potatoes chunks and bits of meat. I blinked at her slowly.

“You can’t tell me you don’t want to get married,” she said. “I know you do.”

“Yes, but –” I protested.

She leaned forward and kissed me. “Our own house in the Hampshire’s, Tweedledee and Tweedledum making our lives miserable.” (Tweedledee and Tweedledum were our two imaginary children, one hers, one mine, supposedly fathered by the same hottie we’d pick up in a bar somewhere and have a threesome with.) “A mortgage payment to be late on, Direct TV to bitch about when it looses the signal, you in an apron and nothing else when I come home.”

Blue grinned cattily and winked. I had met her at the door before one time in only an apron. “The point is, we can have it for real, Guid.”

“Yeah,” I said caustically, “with me sitting home at night for weeks on end.”

This had been a major issue since graduation, her and her airline job. Her and her flightiness, though if she’d been celibate since our last reunion, maybe that part of her life was in check. So I could hope. I’d been with no one else in two years.

“I’ve been working on that,” she said, smiling slyly. “A job opened up in the Boston office. I applied, and it looks promising. I won’t know for a week, but I’m pretty sure I got it.”

She bit her lower lip, unsure for the first time. “I thought if maybe…” Her uncertainly deepened. “You do want to marry me, right?”

I leaned forward and kissed her. “Of course I want to marry you, silly.” I’d wanted to marry her since 6th grade. “I just can’t believe you want to marry me.”

She kissed me some more, and then slid down my stomach to snack between my legs. I have always loved being eaten by Blue. I dislike having my legs spread for anyone else’s pleasure, but was always grateful when, with a twinkle in her eyes, and a grin on her lips, Blue let me know that soon a tongue would be exploring my insides or tickling my clitoris. I love having my clitoris tickled, though it often makes me so frantic as to send me into uncontrollable writhing. I had a heart attack the first time I understood what it was she intended to do.

 

* * *

 

“No!” I had yelped, forcing my knees together in a panic. “You are not doing that to me!”

It was a month or so after we’d first admitted (in Blue’s case, declared) our desire for each other. We were naked in bed, enjoying our after school alone time. I had just been given another embarrassing hickey on my tiny left boob.

“What?” she asked innocently. She hovered over me on her elbows and knees, restrained by my hands and by my raised thighs from any farther southward retreat. She ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip suggestively. Red as a fire truck already, my face became even hotter.

“I’m not ready for that!” I protested.

“Not ready for what?” she taunted, grin widening, eyes crinkling in the corners. My breath jammed in my throat. It was hard to think, much less force words past my paralyzed lips. My tongue felt as thick and useless as a balled up pair of socks.

When I didn’t answer, Blue eased herself farther down my body. Although my hands let go, I didn’t relax. Every nerve ending in my body jangled. Slowly, she pushed my legs down flat against the bed, and then slowly maneuvered them open.

“Blue…”

My hands, unsure what to do with themselves, floated twitchingly above my chest. I had spasms in the muscles of my thighs; they wanted to slam together protectively. Although neither of us were strangers to the other’s fingers, I had dreaded the moment when Blue would bring oral into our lives. This, despite nights lying awake fantasizing about our first sixty-nine together, a moment clearly on the horizon.

Grinning impishly, keeping her eyes on mine the entire time, Blue lowered her head and licked me gently, tentatively with her tongue. An earthquake nearly shook apart my body. Gasping, I felt very muscle in my body clench.

Encouraged, she used her tongue again, this time with more determination, extending and letting it flatten against my lips, parting them slightly with its pressure, dragging over the nub of my suddenly aching clitoris, probing it, teasing it rudely.

“Blue!” I gasped again. My pelvis twisted involuntarily, trying to scissor her out with my thighs, unsuccessfully. She had her fingertips on me now, spreading apart my lips.

“Do you like that, Becca?” she asked, licking me a third time.

I thought I would die when she put her lips into my wetness and kissed me. She went to work with single-minded thoroughness then, no longer making eye contact but absolutely intent on pleasuring both herself and me, using her lips and tongue in ways I had never even imagined. In the midst of my writhing and moaning and useless protestations, I realized she was doing something horrific to the inside of my left thigh.

“Blue, no!” I cried.

Aghast, I pushed up onto my elbows to find her giggling delightedly, eyes inspecting the darkening purple bruise she had just applied with her mouth. I was dumbfounded. What if my mother saw? It was right at my panty-line and couldn’t be missed.

“You bitch!” I howled. “How could you do that to me?”

This only made her giggle harder. Her giggling intensified as I attempted to kick her in the head with the heels of both feet. Bigger and stronger than me, however, outweighing me by twenty pounds, Blue subdued me with little effort. She was red-faced with laughter, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“It’s only a hickey,” she choked out, laughing.

Pinioned obscenely as I was, I could do nothing but bare my teeth and glare at her.

Laughing, she kissed me apologetically on my wetness and said, “It’s directly in the middle of your thigh. It’ll be blocked by your other thigh. No one’s going to see it. It’s not like you walk around in your panties anyway,” she added teasingly.

“Sometimes, I do,” I countered obstinately.

It was only me and Mom and Dad. I had no brothers or sisters to hide from, and lately, Dad had been away more than he was at home. At night, and in the morning before school, I often wandered around the upstairs in just my bra and panties. I’d have to wear a robe now, or my nightshirt or something. Mom would go ballistic if she saw. Dad would blister my bare behind.

“Don’t you dare give me another one,” I threatened.

She laughed and kissed the hickey lovingly. Despite my anger, I had to admit it aroused me being branded. I had never had a hickey before, and being given one so close to my wetness was incredibly erotic. For the next few days, thinking about it would make me shiver uncontrollably.

Blue spent ten minutes between my legs, pleasuring me languidly, and then crawled up my body with a big, teasing grin on her face. I knew she intended to have me taste myself, and, though it grossed me out a bit, the thought of it also sent shivers down my spine and made me erupt all over with goose flesh.

Breathless, and involuntarily squirming away from her as she came closer, I nonetheless allowed her to put her lips on mine and kiss me.

“Mmmmm,” Blue moaned.

“Mmmmm,” I moaned back. The taste was as musky as I’d heard it would be.

“I can’t wait to sixty-nine with you,” she whispered throatily. Were she a cat, she’d have been purring. She kissed me again and stuck her tongue in my mouth. I sucked it greedily. “Your turn,” she prodded.

Our first sixty-nine was every bit as erotic and joyous as I’d imagined. Blue’s taste was identical to mine, although infinitely more potent coming from its place of origin.

I cautiously explored her with my tongue, sucked her clitoris, buried my face in her sweet wetness, and invaded her insides gleefully. Unlike myself, she was baby-smooth and baby-clean. She told me later that she had begun to shave herself daily in anticipation of us performing sixty-nine together, or of having me “chow down” on her, as she sluttily enjoyed calling it. With my wispy blond hair, I hadn’t thought about doing that to myself. Blue, to her utter delight, was the first ever to shave me.

 

* * *

 

Back in the present, Blue raised her head and obscenely licked her lips. “You are the best dinner I’ve had in three months, Guid.” She winked at me, only adding to my embarrassment.

I had forgotten just how wonderful it was, having that tongue inside me. I watched my chest heave and fall, my nipples hard as granite pebbles. Uncontrollable orgasm stalked the bed like a circling animal. I could almost see its glowing yellow eyes and serrated teeth. Was that panting I heard from the animal, or was it myself?

Blue kissed me, right in the middle of my wetness. ”Marry me, Guido,” she said.

I fought to control my breathing. “Only if you get down on your knee and propose to me.” It was the only thing my frantic mind could push past my teeth.

“Easily arranged.”

Rising up and taking me by the hand, she backed off the bed and drew me off with her. Instead of assuming the traditional positions, however, Blue urged me to my knees and took to her own knees before me. She held my hands in each of hers. To my astonishment, there was a black, velvet-covered box in her right hand. Where it had come from, I couldn’t guess.

“Rebecca Windom?”

“Yes?” I said fearfully. I could feel the rush of heat right up to my hair roots. This wasn’t really happening.

“Will you marry me and be my wife?” she asked.

I gulped, or tried to. The sound was like a cracking two-by-four. There was nothing in my head but thickly-stuffed cotton. Breathing through my mouth, I was close to hyperventilating.

“Are you serious?” I croaked.

She nodded solemnly.

“My mother will have a cow. So will my dad. So will yours.”

“My father’s been having cows all his life,” she said, smiling wryly. “He’s used to it.”

“Yeah,” I muttered. “But — a daughter-in-law? To his daughter?”

Her grin was no less wry. “I think he’s suspected for some time. More likely he’s wondering why it took so long for me to ask.”

“Blue,” I complained. “Be serious.”

She squeezed our two hands around the black jeweler’s box. “How much more serious can I be?”

I stared numbly at the box. “You really bought me a ring?”

“Would you like to see it? Or will that send you right over the edge?”

I gulped again, loudly. I nodded.

Releasing my hands, Blue positioned the box between us, the fingers of her left hand holding the base, those of her right hand delicately gripping the lid, and, as I watched breathlessly, she levered it open to reveal a huge diamond in a beautiful white gold setting. Tears instantly overran my eyes and poured down my cheeks.

“Oh, Blue!” I gasped, blinking madly to clear my vision. “It’s so beautiful!”

I reached out with trembling fingers and placed them atop hers. We held the box together. The stone glittered softly in the dim light. I couldn’t stop sobbing.

Holding out my left hand with the fingers spread apart, I watched as she removed the ring from the velvet bed and placed it upon my finger. I shuddered as it slid on.

“Will you marry me, Rebecca?” she asked again.

I threw my arms around her neck and bawled like a newborn baby.

 

* * *

 

That was three years ago. We now live in a little town in northwest Massachusetts. Blue kept her job with the airline only as long as it took us to arrange the marriage, find a place to live outside Boston, find employment for me as an accountant with a solar energy company, and settle in to a semi-regular routine. Then she resigned, and with Blue hauling in twice my salary as a cost consultant to the airline, we spent the next two and a half years putting together the down payment on a bed and breakfast. We moved here four months ago, and I am currently two months pregnant.

“The Hampshire’s have it way over Philadelphia,” I said wistfully.

I sat next to Blue on the front porch of our bed and breakfast, enjoying the warm spring evening. Kicking us gently back and forth on the glider with her right foot, Blue held my hand in her lap.

“You happy with your birthday present?” she wanted to know.

I squeezed her hand. My birthday present was an airline ticket to Hawaii and reservations at the Hyatt Regency Maui. We’d fly out tomorrow morning and spend a full week on the beach. The previous owners had graciously agreed to come out of retirement for a week and run the place. Birthdays couldn’t get any better. Every time I thought of it, I cried.

“Of course I’m happy with my birthday present,” I sighed. “Look who it came from.”

To our left, to the west, the final sliver of sun slowly sank below the roofline of the bank building on the corner, continuing to light the windows in the upper stories of the buildings to the east of us with its swollen redness. It would be dark in a matter of minutes; already, I could see Venus twinkling in the twilight. Absently, I rubbed my slightly swollen tummy through the fabric of my windbreaker.

I like being the wife. It suits me, being the wife, being pregnant. Blue is the perfect husband. It left me slightly guilt-ridden that she chose to deprive herself of the experience of motherhood, to raise our children in a semi-conventional household, with a mother and a father-figure, but that’s what Blue wants and as long as she is okay with “fathering” our children and letting me carry and gave birth to the little monsters, then I can live with that. She even did a fairly good job of poking me with her strap-on and driving me crazy the night of our “conception.”

I hope for a girl. Blue wants a boy. I think she means to tease him about his penis when he gets older. We choose not to discuss it until such time as a sonogram reveals the sex. My secret desire is to have one of each. Twins run in the family. Did I forget to mention my due date is Christmas Day? Merry Christmas.

 THE END

Seeking Life Partner

  • Posted on December 24, 2017 at 10:53 am

Simple Guy says…

I’ve been enjoying reading such material [as at Juicy Secrets] from days of Leslita and have even published there. The thought always crossed my mind, as it would have others, ‘Am I a paedophile?’ When I answer ‘No’, as I know I will never want any girl or female to come to any sexual harm, there is still a nagging question mark. Maybe readers can give their opinion.

Females for me, are the perfect masterpiece. Be they girls or ladies, I find myself drawn to those who are cultured, artistic, and intellectual.

To the reason of this post: I have confided my attractions in two of my exes and was blessed enough that they harboured similar desires. But I was also blessed with a big heart and was in love with them both, simultaneously, which really hurt them. So I had to leave so as to not cause further pain. Even though I still love them dearly, I think it’s time I moved on and settle down with someone who will love me as I am and preferably share in my desires. I’m not looking to jump head first into anything. Nor am I looking for a fling. So, if there is any lady from around Durban (SA) who suits this profile, please respond.

Thank you,
Simple Guy
simpleguy.co.za@gmail.com

Midnight Clear

  • Posted on December 24, 2017 at 7:28 am

By Mia Ireland

{ This story was originally posted at the Nifty Archive }

I can’t remember a time my beautiful mama didn’t softly, gently, cup my cunt.

Only back then I called it my cunny, of course. Or my kitty when I did stuff with my best friend Ellie.

We had such pretty, innocent words for it back then, before it became sex. Before it became need.

Before it became our white hot craving, and cunt.

My mama gave birth to me at 25, with the one man she dared to have sex with. A quiet boy she met in college. His name was Jonathan, and they had tea together in the student union, and had laughs together in the good times, and for whatever crazy reason, Jonathan, who was gay, and my mama, who was also gay, decided they should fuck each other to make sure they weren’t straight, and it turns out they weren’t.

But it also turns out that they made me, which is equal parts my bad luck and my good fortune. Because here I am, alive and well, fatherless and proud. I am strong, sure, but I’ve never quite known if I’m a blessing or an error.

But whatever I am, or whatever I was when I was ten, I still know how amazingly good it felt when my mama cupped my cunny. And my mama, I know, loved me very, very much. That much was clear.

There was never a time when she didn’t hold my vagina with the most tender of touches. Or if there was, I can’t remember it. From my youngest age, I would sit on her lap, naked and soft on the couch, both of us nude, both of us watching TV and cuddled under a big warm blanket, and my soft bottom would always press into my mama’s warm lap, her bare-shaved pussy, which was always warm and inviting, completely naked like mine, never stubbly or rough. She was so smoothly shaven, impeccably bare, that it was almost as if she’d never grown up or grown hair in the first place.

“My baby,” she’d whisper in my ear as I rubbed my butt back against her slowly-spreading wetness. “My sweet baby girl.”

I’d feel her spread herself. I’d know she was softly spreading, adjusting, letting my soft bottom rub her where she needed to be rubbed.

And she’d reach down and cup her hand around my cunny, never penetrating me with her finger, just softly cupping my mons, reaching down lower to cover my taint, and the feeling would be safe and warm and glorious, and I would slowly push my bare vagina up against her hand, softly rubbing and bucking myself into her sweet, gentle cupping, as my naked bottom slid across the wetness of her slit. Together we’d pleasure each other that way, until we both slipped into shuddering, long, shivering, sweet completeness.

Later I’d go into the bathroom to pee, and the wetness of my mama’s sweet vagina, her fluid, her loving essence, her need for me, would still be wet and sticky, like glazed after-love, all over my tiny butt cheeks. I’d reach back and rub it with my hand. I’d bring my hand up to my face and smell it deeply and greedily.

I loved the smell she left on my bottom. It was soft and wet and good like her. I’d lick it off my hand. Gingerbread spice I couldn’t put a name to. Its flavor was so new to me. So strong and so good. I was in love with the way my mama’s pussy tasted years before my lips ever touched it.

Then we made love. A few years later we started to love each other the way lovers do. On Christmas Eve. A midnight clear.

I was ten years old that Christmas Eve when my mama and I finally made love to each other with our mouths and our hands and our fingers and our wet bare pussies rubbing together.

The cupping had gone on forever. The cuddling, the cupping, the slipping and sliding and sitting in her lap. It was understood. It was what we did. We sat together naked on the couch, and if she didn’t cup me on her own, I’d take her hand in mine and gently place it over my cunny, letting her know I needed this. Letting her know it was always her time to cup me.

And even at ten, the night it started for real, we had already cupped as we always did at night. She’d cupped me until I felt the shivers, and her wetness still lingered on my bottom as she carried me upstairs and tucked me in my princess bed with promises of Santa Claus, who I no longer believed in, and promises of her warm love tomorrow, which I did.

But I had bad dreams that night, mean reindeers and bad Grinches, and I silently slipped into her bed down the hall, naked and trembling, cold and little, needing her warmth and her comfort.

“Shhh, baby girl,” she sleep-whispered, drawing me to her naked body. I reveled in her closeness. She smelled good, like baby lotion and apricots. Cocoa butter and peppermint. Christmas carols were playing on her radio. It Came Upon a Midnight Clear.

“Scary dream,” I whispered, looking into her eyes. Bringing my hands up to touch her face. To frame her nearness like I’ve always done since I was a very little girl. Holding her face in my hands to confirm her stability.

“Shhh,” she said, kissing my nose, and then my eyelids. “Sleep with Mama tonight.” And then she kissed me again on the lips, on the mouth. And I kissed her back on the lips, on the mouth. And then we were kissing. And then the world broke open into spiral beauty, and we were kissing and kissing like never before.

My mama and I had never kissed like this, like grownups kiss, alive and wanting. I heard a soft sound that confused me, but I realized it was me, moaning into her mouth. Her hands reached down to cup my bottom. My hand reached forward to cup her cunny, bare and hot and wet already. This time I cupped my mama’s cunt. Her wetness felt good on the skin of my hand.

She reached down to cup mine, still kissing me.

“No, Mama,” I whispered, urging her past her own innocence, her desire not to hurt me. “Like this.”

I reach down and extended her finger and touched it to myself. To my slit. To my clitty. To the place I touched myself in my own bed. I loved my mama. I wanted her in me.

“Baby girl,” she whispered, hesitating.

“Please, Mama,” I asked her. “Please. Like this.”

I pressed her finger into me. My slit. My hole. My private sweet places.

“Please, Mama. Inside me.”

Mama kissed me with a whimper in her voice and she steadily, slowly-at-first, but eagerly-after, fingered my wet, aching cunny. Oh, God, it felt so good to have her touch me this way. To finally enter me. To touch me this way.

I squeezed her cunny with my hand, and soon my fingers were entering her too. She was slippery, and pushed back against me. We whimpered and kissed together. Nothing could be this good. Nothing ever. This felt so right. Please, God. Please, baby Jesus. Make this Christmas Eve last forever.

Mama pulled her hand away. I moaned, wanting more.

“Do you trust me, Ammy?” she said, kissing my eyelids.

I nodded yes. I trusted her with everything.

“Come up to my face, baby,” she coaxed me, helping me straddle her chest, her beautiful soft breasts. She brought my tiny frame up to her face, so my cunny was laid open before her. My gateway pressing into the soft folds of her lips.

And oh, how I arched my back and my neck raised prayerfully to the sky as my mama’s soft tongue started dancing through my labia, my perineum, my shivering anus. I never thought of being kissed there before! Or licked there before! Was this okay? Could this really happen?

I felt her beautiful tongue licking me everywhere. My cunny and my butthole. My clean places. My nasty places. Places no one had ever licked before. Places I’d never dreamed I’d be kissed on! I shuddered and seized, I shivered and came, twitching and gasping and grinding out my joy into my mama’s face, crying out loud in the night, a whine, a joy, bucking onto her tongue with the shivery dampness of my grateful excitement.

I was so hungry for my mama. I was so hungry to taste her now. It’s all I wanted. My body was desperate for her completely. To taste her every flavor.

“Now yours, Mama,” I begged with shaky breath. “Please, Mama. Let me, too.”

“Baby,” she started. “You don’t have to. You don’t – ”

I shushed her with my fingertip and I turned around on top of her. I laid my cunny back on her face, but then buried my own face in the heat of her wetness, her hot sweet triangle. And oh God. So sweet! So sweet!

The taste was overwhelming. Hot and rich and familiar from how I’d licked it off my hand, but now it was wild and wet and directly on my mouth. And I don’t know if I did it right, but I sucked her, and I licked her, and I tasted her in all the beautiful ways she’d tasted me, and I felt myself crying it felt so good to taste her like this, to know her like this.

I tasted her cunny and tears. Sweet Christmas tears for the beautiful, strong nearness of her. I tasted the copper of her skin folds on my tongue. The cinnamon-nutmeg brandy of her heartbeat, so much stronger than mine. So much better.

It tasted like mine, her pussy flavor. We tasted the same. But hers was wilder. Richer. Deeper and more grown-up. She moaned. Her back arched. She pressed her thighs together trapping my head as her body twisted up from the mattress.

My little fingers explored her everywhere. As I locked my mouth around my mama’s sweet cunny, sucking her hungrily with no possibility of stopping, my fingers reached up to explore her inside. Her hole and her clitty. Her tight-button anus, which I pushed against and felt my wet finger slip in, wet with her pussy juice and slippery with her own lubrication. She hissed when my finger penetrated her special place. I licked her, and kissed her and put my fingers in her, everywhere, wherever they could go.

She was pulling me away. Lifting me up away from her.

“No, Mama,” I begged. “Don’t make me stop.”

“Kiss me, baby,” she said, grabbing my head and making me come up for air. “Kiss Mama, Ammy.”

I came up sad. So sad to be away from her mama flavors, but I did what she said. I came up to her face. She wrapped her arms around me and I kissed her some more.

I could taste my own cunny on her tongue and she could taste hers on mine. We kissed as the Christmas carols played, tasting each other’s sweet, shared flavor. It came upon a midnight clear. That glorious song of old.

“Baby, wrap your legs in mine, like this, like scissors.”

She adjusted herself around me. Showed me what to do. Our legs intertwined. It was so easy. So natural. I thought that she’d invented it.

Our wet pussies touched.

It was electric.

Hotness, wetness, bareness together.

Naked, slippery, rubbing our pussies. Oh! So good! I gasped!

Our cunny juices were mingling, the two of us rubbing and pushing against each other, arching, gasping, shuddering! Oh, so shivery!

Mama came!

She cried out loud and gasped my name. “Ammy!”

She came! Pressing her pussy against mine, I could feel even more wetness cascade from her as she shook and shivered.

“So good,” she whispered, biting at my lower lip. Nipping it. Sucking it into her mouth. “Ammy, so good.”

She flipped me onto my back. She lifted my knees up. Pushed my knees up like I was going to have a baby, and put her face between my legs and sucked me greedily. Hard. Pushed her tongue so far up into my hole I thought I would cry out from the heaven of it.

She locked her mouth around my little hard clit, and sucked it until I quivered, and bucked, and grabbed her head and mashed her to my cunny as I jerked uncontrollably and I came all over her face.

“Mama,” I cried as she tasted my love shakes. “Mama, I love you. So much, so much.”

I pulled her head back up to me, she cuddled me, held me to her chest. I nuzzled into her neck. Kissed its soft warm saltiness. Swallowed her sweaty rivulets. Worked my way lower to her perfect breast and nursed on her nipple, which was already hard the moment my mouth wrapped around it.

I lay there in the moonlight of Christmas, nursing on my beautiful mama.

I reached down and cupped her cunny. She reached down and cupped mine, and we fell asleep like that, captured in time, shivering and satisfied until warmth and exhaustion lulled us to sleep.

From angels bending near the earth, to touch their harps of gold.

A Christmas Eve. A Midnight Clear.

A brand new song for my mama and me.

THE END — and a very Merry Christmas to all our readers at Juicy Secrets!

Revolutionettes, Chapter 2

  • Posted on December 23, 2017 at 8:48 am

By Amanda

1791 – Philadelphia Pa.

I was a seventeen-year-old girl alone on the streets of Philadelphia when I stepped off the coach in late evening. The big city after dark is a dangerous place for an unescorted lady. I hurried through the streets in the gathering dusk, desperately looking for a boarding house.

It was more than an hour later and not less than three solid swats on my buttocks before I found what I was looking for, a room priced so that I could survive on my savings until I could get work. I could sew and mend and cook, and certainly in a city such as this I could find someone in need of that.

Yet, after three weeks I was down to my last six pence. That was enough to pay rent and nothing more. I was greatly disheartened by my failure to find work, but as the nuns had once taught us, if you seek something earnestly enough, eventually you will find it.

I found work the day before my rent was due. A tailor shop. I was hired to help the proprietor’s wife with the mending, but he created the clothing he sold himself. The good man’s wife convinced him I seemed trustworthy and that it was safe to advance me my week’s rent.

I worked for a dollar a week, six to twelve hours a day. The days I was fortunate enough to leave early I roamed the streets, learning my way around town. I was looking for something, though at the time I did not know what.

I roamed, visited taverns, definitely not places for a lady, but somehow I felt I should be there. Perhaps I did not consciously acknowledge it then, but I know now what it was I really wanted. I was looking for others like myself. The good Mister Baker had told me I was not alone in the world of today, and that intrigued me.

I was not looking for love. I was sure I would never love again. Molly had crushed that from me. She had destroyed me. No, I sought others for companionship. Someone who understood what I felt and why.

Six months ran to a year, and I had found nothing of interest. My rent was always paid ahead, my work done with great care, and my free time spent in this relentless search.

It was a summer day like any other when I chanced upon a French cafe. I felt compelled to sit at a small table just outside its door, and a moment later a young girl of perhaps thirteen stepped out and offered me a cup of tea. I asked for a madeleine as well and she went inside, returning moments later with the tea and pastry.

I paid her with a brand new penny and told her to keep the half penny for herself. It was a generous tip indeed, but I was feeling quite happy sitting on the sidewalk, watching the carriages and riders pass.

My tea was cool and nearly gone when a carriage stopped across the road and someone I took as a man stepped out, reaching up to pay the driver. He turned toward me — and that was when I found, much to my surprise, that this was no man but a woman. She wore a simple shirt and a handsome vest, and most shocking of all she wore breeches. With a confident smile she strode, head held high, across the street to the cafe where she sat several tables away from me.

I was in awe and could hardly stop looking at her. She wore her brown hair tied back in a black ribbon as a man would do. Her clothes, her shoes… this was the most unusual woman I had ever seen.

I’ve no idea how long I sat captivated by her presence, but it was long enough for her to notice. She met my eyes and half smiled before returning to her glass of wine.

After she finished the glass she got up to leave, placing a coin on the table for the girl. She hailed a cab and soon was gone, leaving me in absolute wonderment.

When I finally noticed that it was dusk, I stood and left the cafe. I made my way home quickly. Nighttime was no time for a lady to be out alone. I went up to my room and waited for supper, all the while looking out the window. What had I seen, I wondered, how could a woman ever dress so and get away with it? Perhaps if she had wanted to be taken for a boy that would be different, but she appeared to make no effort at all to hide her true sex.

Why, it was positively indecent for a woman to stride about in such a way, and knowing that somehow made her even more interesting to me. I had heard of tom-boys only since coming here to the big city, and I wondered now if that was what she was. It would certainly suggest that she worked and gave no thought to a husband or children. But did that also mean her hunger was for her own sex? Because she dressed and walked like a man, could that mean she loved as one too?

When at last the house mistress called supper, I went down, still too in awe to talk, or even to think of anything but the woman I’d seen.

The meal was all but finished when I could stand it no longer. “I saw the strangest person today.”

This was hardly noticed by the other women of the house, but two of them did look politely at me, waiting for me to go on.

“I was enjoying a tea at this cafe not far from here. I saw a woman there. She stepped out of a cab. I took her for a man at first, as she was dressed every inch that way, but she was indeed female.”

“Surely that’s not true,” one of the boarders exclaimed as she laughed, “you’re teasing us!”

“No, I swear it,” I responded.

“Stay away from that sort, girl,” the mistress warned. “You’re young and naive, but that type will bring you only misery and misfortune. They have a kind of madness, I think.” Her confidence in what she was saying suggested she knew much more than she was letting on.

“That type?” I asked, almost under my breath.

The mistress only nodded her head. The other girls giggled and whispered to each other. It seemed they knew something that I did not. And to this day I wonder what it was.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just a boy too young for a mustache?” one of the girls asked.

I shook my head. I was very sure that she was indeed a girl. She was young, yes, and slightly disheveled as it seemed she worked. Her hands had been dirty as were her knees.

The mistress snorted before getting up to collect the plates. When she left the room, I was suddenly made aware of how transparent I was. I must have given something of my thoughts away in my face, as Mary leaned across the table and whispered to me, “Push her from your mind, Liz. No matter how she dresses she will always be a girl.”

The others broke out in fresh giggles, but I found nothing amusing about this near accusation. Besides, it was arrogant for her to assume that I did not find that very thing about her so enticing. Arrogant, but good. Surely I’d have been run out of the house and even perhaps out of the town were anyone to know what things I thought.

But young and naive I certainly was. Philadelphia was a city with a dark side known only to those so brave as to venture into its darkened streets and alleyways at night. It was another city altogether after the sun went down, and I would learn at least a part of this in due time.

I went back to the cafe every day for a month hoping to see her again. I watched the ladies and gentlemen walk by, the carriages, the vendors. All the while I searched intently for her face amidst the throng. I had to meet her.

The next time she came I would speak to her, I decided. She was a woman, after all, and such a thing would draw only the slightest attention. Besides, all eyes would be on her, I told myself, not the young girl she was with. I would have to say now, however, looking back on it, had anyone taken notice it certainly would have been of the young and, dare I say, lovely girl making eyes at this oddly dressed woman. I would hope not to sound too vain, but in my youth I was blessed with a pretty face, straight teeth, and delicate skin.

As I sat watching all the people walk by, a new thought came to me. I had been so naive as a girl. It was not until I was shown the world I now so desperately sought that I had understood myself. I wondered, as I watched the ladies escorted by their sweethearts and husbands, how many of them might share my own desires and just not know it? Or, not have any imaginings of how they might fulfill their desire? We women, we are doomed to a lonely lot in life, unless, like I, great fortune simply falls upon us.

Little by little my world came to seem less bleak to me. I was still alone in the big city, but at least I could entertain such hope of knowing a woman’s touch again as I waited patiently for my lady in breeches to come back.

Still she did not come. Every day at work I could hardly bear to be there, and when I was dismissed all but ran to the cafe in hopes of seeing her again.

It was a cool fall day when it suddenly dawned on me that she might never come back. But I was not going to give up completely. The girl that filled my tea cup and brought me madeleines, perhaps she had seen the woman before. When I arrived at the cafe, I took my regular seat and the girl was soon at my table side. I failed to muster the courage to ask after the woman at first, but when she returned with my tea I spoke, almost as if someone else were controlling me.

“I saw a woman here once. She wore breeches and a handsome blue vest.”

The girl tilted her head slightly and gave me the most curious look. “Mademoiselle?” the girl said in her heavy French accent. “Do you mean Madeline?”

“Is that her name?”

The girl nodded.

“Does she often come here?”

Again a silent nod.

How fortuitous, I thought, that I might find Madeline here while eating cakes of such a similar name.

“I would not have thought a lady of your refinement to ask after her, though.”

This statement was so strange to me that I hardly comprehended it. Refinement? Me? Yet it seemed by what the girl said that she would expect another type of lady to ask about the woman all the same.

“I’m but a simple seamstress,” I offered.

“Oui, mademoiselle,” the girl shrugged, then said, “She comes mostly after nightfall. She has her supper here with us nearly every evening.”

“She does?” I nearly shouted.

Again a nod.

“But why, I wonder?”

“Perhaps because we would not shoo her away.” The girl turned to leave but I caught her arm.

“And why would anyone?” I asked.

The girl raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She looked as if she thought she had already said too much.

So that was my answer. For weeks now I had just missed the woman, leaving before sunset to escape the risk of being on the street at night while she had no fear of it at all.

Now the question I posed to myself was whether or not I should take the risk of waiting to see if she would come this evening. In the end, though, I did indeed choose to stay.

As time passed, my fear was rising. It would be a long walk to my boarding house in the dark of night, and it was growing very late. I was about to give in to my fear when a cab stopped across the street and out stepped the woman in breeches. Out stepped Madeline.

Again she strode across the street and took her table only a few paces from where I sat. I had, I reckoned, until she finished supper. Yet all I seemed able to do was sit and stare at her. The little French girl brought the woman a plate and a glass and then left her, glancing over at me as she did.

It was dark. I could not walk the streets alone. I had to speak to her, if nothing else so that I might have an escort. Surely she would be willing to help a young girl and see her home safely.

From where I gained the strength, I do not know. But somehow I stood up and walked to stand at the side of her table.

She looked up at me with a pleasant smile.

“May I join you?” I asked.

Immediately she wiped her lips and stood, pulling out a chair for me. Just as a man of any breeding would have done. When she sat back down, she sipped her wine and looked me over carefully.

I looked closely at her as well. I guessed her age near twenty-five, and she had to be a full inch taller than I. Her hands seemed to have seen hard work, and her eyes were wrinkled at the corners from many hours in the sun every day.

“As you’ve guessed, I am sure, I am not a man,” she said. “So I’ll forgive you if you wish to leave.”

I said nothing in reply.

A moment passed, and she raised her eyebrows. “Why breeches?” she asked, taking my part. “My father was a farrier, and when he died I inherited the barn, the tools, and the clients.”

A farrier. That meant she had work from which she could make quite a handsome living and that would afford her latitude.

“Your father taught you?” I heard myself asking her.

“From the day I could walk. He did not want his legacy, as it were, to pass out of the family.”

“And you’ve no brothers? No cousins?”

“My father was the only surviving child of his parents, as I am of mine.” She smiled and took another mouthful of food. “Good fortune, I suppose, in that I am free. I don’t imagine I could ever have achieved the refinement that is required to be called a lady… but you?”

“I am a seamstress,” I answered.

Compared to hers, my life was so unexciting. But she, she met travelers from all around the colonies and perhaps the world. She determined her own destiny. She had power and that made her more beautiful than anything else.

For an instant her eyes narrowed. Not in anger but something else. Something that I had seen in Molly’s eyes before we first made love. I was sure I understood the look. I was sure I had to be right. She was more than just a woman with good fortune.

We were interrupted by the servant girl. She filled Madeline’s glass with wine, then looked down at me in a knowing way.

“Mademoiselle?” she asked. Her tone seemed different now.

Madeline set her glass down. “Of course, Isabelle. Bring her a glass and anything else she wants.”

The girl turned her attention from me to Madeline and back again.

“Wine will be fine,” I told her.

Madeline seemed disappointed with my request but said nothing. She sat looking at me for a moment before sipping from her glass. There was something in her eyes. Did she know what I was thinking? Had she seen the girl’s knowing glance? I became so nervous I could no longer look at her.

At last she spoke, relieving some of my anxiety. “You certainly are a brave sort, aren’t you? You walked right up to me, and how could you be sure I was not a man?”

I could not respond, but I looked up, able to meet her gaze again.

“I like brave ladies,” she said. “Life is certainly too short for etiquette.”

I gave a nod, but as for myself, I liked etiquette. I loved being a lady, having chairs pulled out, doors opened, and everything else that went with it. I wished only that I had more freedom to determine my own destiny. For at that time, I still completely relied on others for my future.

Isabelle, whose name I had learned only that night, returned with my wine and set it before me. She looked long at me, evaluating me for something I could not be sure of.

“You must tell her, Madeline. You know what happens…” she said, turning to the woman.

“Hold your tongue, girl,” Madeline snapped. “I do not need a child to tell me what I must do.”

Isabelle bent her knee in a casual curtsey and quickly walked away. I watched her curiously. Tell me what, I wondered? But I already suspected what the child’s looks meant, and I had only to wait patiently for Madeline to tell me. I returned my attention to the woman across from me, but said nothing.

“Forgive me, ah… I just realized I don’t know your name.”

“Elizabeth.”

“Lovely,” she said. She took my hand across the table. Her palms were rough and worked. But when she pressed her lips to my fingers they were as soft as I remembered Molly’s.

“I am Madeline, at your service, m’lady,” she said as she stood and bowed at the waist.

At length she finished her meal and her wine, then waited patiently for me to finish my glass. I did not want to rush, though. She had become a hero of sorts for me and I was basking in her presence. But all too soon my glass was drained dry.

She stood and offered her arm to me. “Come, Elizabeth, it wouldn’t do to have you walking the streets alone at night.”

“And you? What will you do when I am home?”

Madeline only smiled at me as I took her arm. I pointed in the direction of my home and she nodded, leading me forward.

She left me at the door, and though I’d have thought I was alone I was not. Mary and her sister, who shared the room next to mine, had seen me approaching.

As I stepped inside, they rushed down the stairs giggling. “And who was he, Liz?” they teased.

I only smiled and went to my room, leaving them no doubt greatly disappointed.

The next day I was released from my duties early and I rushed to the cafe. I was quietly sitting and reading a book I had bought a few days before when Isabelle boldly sat down across from me. I marked my place and looked up at her, a bit put off by her forwardness.

“I mean her no ill will, mademoiselle,” she began. “But Madeline, she is not just an unusual woman. I was once like you, fascinated by her. I thought her a hero but she is not like you and I.”

The girl trailed off and looked away for a moment, then went on. “This is a very big city, and all manner of people come and go here. You are young and naive… where did you come from?”

“Harrisburg.” I was fascinated that this girl, this child, would see fit to impart wisdom to me, seeing as I could be no less than five years her senior.

Isabelle nodded her head. “She will want more than friendship from you. She has some money and is very charismatic, but don’t be drawn in by her. She wants terrible things, perverse things.”

I said nothing at all. My smile never faded. Perhaps it had even grown. “She only wants what we all want, child. She wants to be loved.”

“But not by a man, mademoiselle.”

“And you know this for certain?

Isabelle blushed and nodded her head. “I do know.”

“And your father still serves her?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

“I’ve never spoken of it to him. He would not understand. And I would not know where to begin.”

I smiled to myself. I had a companion. Someone who might understand me. I did not know what our future held, but for that moment I was relieved.

Isabelle noticed that I did not seem scandalized by this most shocking news, but instead sat smiling with a distant gaze. “You knew this already,” she said quietly. “But how?”

I could only shrug. I could not explain how such a thing might have occurred to me. It was like an instinct, though indeed her dress was at least some hint. Perhaps not to everyone, but to someone who was looking.

Someone who was looking. Again the nuns had been proven right. I had so earnestly sought a woman like me, someone to understand me. And I had found her now. I prayed that Madeline would fancy me, at least as a friend.

I was drawn away from my own thoughts when Isabelle sighed.

“But you’re a lady,” she said. “You show all the hallmarks of good breeding and refinement.”

I giggled, “Then you have not often seen ladies of refinement or breeding. My dress is worn and I am poor. I live in a boarding house and work for a mere dollar a week. No, I am not refined at all, I think, and truthfully I would not want to be.”

“Mademoiselle Elizabeth… I wish you well, but please do not make the mistake of letting my father see even a hint of romance between you. He could not abide such a thing, and I like Madeline, and you as well.”

“Isabelle, I like you too. Do you understand, though?”

“I think I do. In a way. Surely such a lady would be lonely. And damned to bear this secret having no one to share it with… but you must be ever vigilant. No one else would be so forgiving as I.”

“And why are you?”

“Because it wasn’t horrible, if I must be honest,” she answered with a blush. “It should have been but it wasn’t.”

I tried to press but she would say no more. Soon after I gave up trying to glean the story from Isabelle, she stood and returned to her duties.

I waited quietly for Madeline, sitting boldly at her usual table and reading as I sipped tea.

When at last she came, she did not hesitate to sit with me and we ate together, making small talk and sharing knowing glances. I doubted we had to say anything more. I felt certain that she must know what things I was thinking, as I am sure she suspected I did. It was that secret language, known only to us, to tom-boys. Tom-boys? Was that what I was? Was that the proper word? I did not know for certain, but for then it was sufficient.

And so for a time we ate together and spoke our secret language. Isabelle performed her duties quietly, and only once felt compelled to warn us that we were too clearly showing our intentions.

Each night Madeline escorted me home on her arm, and then Mary and her sister begged the details of my romance. It was the first day of our third week that I had my first surprise. A pleasant one indeed, but it left me anxious and gasping for breath.

As always, Madeline walked me home. But when we arrived on that dark street which had no benefit of lighting, she stopped and turned me to face her. She hesitated only a moment, looking into my eyes, before she learned forward and pressed her lips against mine.

It was all I needed. I fell into her arms and opened my mouth, waiting anxiously for her tongue.

We kissed, there on the doorstep of my house, in the night, creating a positively scandalous spectacle for anyone who might be looking. At last Madeline stepped back, and I looked up at her with all the admiration and hope of a young girl in love. Love? No, perhaps not that, but whatever it was, for that moment it was exquisite.

She smiled and I went slowly into the house, my gaze on her until the door was shut. Inside I turned to find the mistress of the house glaring at me from the sofa where she was mending a dress. I looked away, ashamed but confident that she did not fully know just how truly awful I was.

I was wrong. I’d hardly closed the door to my room when she banged her knuckle against it, startling me and gaining the attention of Mary and Elsabette. I opened the door to the house mistress’s scowl.

“What you do away from here is none of my concern, girl, but that display was simply indecent. Your passions made you look like feral animals!” She growled at me.

I was immediately ashamed. I cast my eyes down and felt the heat of my blushing cheeks. Behind her the sisters giggled. They were amused thinking I had a sweetheart, that I had a man courting me.

Finally I lifted my head and looked at the mistress. “I am sorry, ma’am. I won’t ever…”

“No, you won’t.” She stepped closer to me and I could hear her teeth grinding. “I told you to stay away from the likes of that woman. But you chose not to hear me and now look at you.”

She spoke quietly, but not quietly enough, as the gasp from behind her told me that this part of our conversation had not remained private.

“I should cast you right out of my house tonight for such a display, but you’ve been a good tenant otherwise, never troubling me over the rent.” She shook her finger at me. “But I will not have such behavior from you again.”

Turning to leave, she added, “And I urge you, forget her before it’s too late. Before you do something you cannot undo.”

She hissed something at the other girls when she passed them, and they stood quietly staring at me in shock. The mistress mumbled as she descended the stair, “And to think my William joined the minutemen for this…” What more she said I could not hear.

Ashamed, I closed my door, thinking the incident over. But they would not let it alone. The sisters knocked at the door, and despite my repeated attempts to shoo them away, they finally opened my door and stepped into my room.

“What?” I asked them. “What should I say?”

They looked at one another and then at me.

“Should I deny what you’ve heard? Tell you she was mistaken?” I shook my head, and again they exchanged a glance. “Well take a good look at me then, will that satisfy you? Look hard at the tom-boy, get your fill, and I’ll hear no more of it!”

“It’s true then?” Mary finally said.

I nodded my head. What else was I to do? Lying was against all of the virtues with which the nuns had raised me. Even when the consequences could be dire, as they were with this.

I expected a titter, a giggle. I expected something, but they stood in silent awe. “Do you love her then?” Elsa finally asked.

I only shrugged. I did not love her, I didn’t think. Not then. Not now even. But I liked her, and I felt a closeness with her that I could not have felt with anyone else. She understood me in a way others could not.

“She is kind and gentle. She pays attention to only me when we are together, and she understands… she understands things that no one else could.”

The girls were naive, or perhaps they simply were not very intelligent. What should have been a terrible scandal of perversion and indecency was instead a point of fascination for them. They were young though, fourteen, maybe fifteen.

“When Jacob holds my hand, I feel as if I’m floating,” Mary started. “I feel safe and sure of the world and my place in it. Does she make you feel wonderful like that?”

I nodded.

“And not a boy?”

I shook my head. There were tears in my eyes now. I was so ashamed. I knew that I was a perverse and indecent woman, but I walked like a lady and dressed like one. I conducted myself in such a way that others might not know what really lurked behind my smile.

Mary sat down at my little desk and glanced over my quill and papers. I was the only girl in the house who could read and write with any proficiency, and this had gained me a sort of admiration.

Elsa soon sat across from me on the bed. They both looked curious, intrigued by this new thing.

“How could you ever…” Elsa finally asked, breaking a heavy silence.

She could not finish the question, but I understood. The question was too terrible to answer, but at least the awkwardness in the room had passed. Elsa pressed me though.

I held up my hand and wiggled my fingers. “Surely you’ve had a good frigging at least once in your life,” I finally said, exasperated.

“I should think not!” Mary exclaimed, but Elsa’s silence told a different story for her, and this did not go unnoticed by her sister.

“Ohh, you scandalous slut,” Mary laughed. “You must tell me everything and don’t leave out a single detail!”

Although I wanted to hear too, the long silence from Elsabette told me that this story would be shared only between the sisters.

I could have told them everything, given them the details of every terrible pleasure I had given and had received. But this was enough. They need not know any more. Of course my limited knowledge of all the things two women could enjoy would have left the story only partially told. I was yet to learn of so many things I would never have dared dream.

Continue on to Chapter 3

My Daughter’s Secrets, Part One

  • Posted on December 22, 2017 at 9:49 am

By Misty Meadow

Many thanks to my editor JetBoy for the work he contributed to this story. — Misty

Image result for mother and preteen daughter

Should a mother ever read her daughter’s diary?

Absolutely not! No, a diary is a private thing. Kids should be encouraged to keep a record of their everyday lives for lots of reasons, and they should be able to set down their thoughts without any fear that their privacy will be invaded. They need a safe haven for those bottled up secrets that all kids keep. God knows, I did at that age.

But then I stumbled onto my own daughter’s diary… and that was when those good intentions of mine fell by the wayside.

I was in the living room sewing a button back onto my teal blouse when I heard Kitty’s phone ring. She was up in her room doing homework. A minute later she came flying down the stairs.

“I’m going over to Jaqui’s, okay, Mum?” Jaqui was her best friend. “I’ll be back before bedtime, I promise.”

“Did you finish your homework?” I asked.

“Yeah, all done.” Then she slipped out of the door and was gone. Why is she in such a hurry? I wondered… then again, kids these days seem to be in a hurry all the time.

I went upstairs to her room to check whether Kitty had, in fact, finished her homework. She’s amazingly bright for her age, but so full of energy that it’s sometimes difficult for her to focus on school. If she really applied herself, my daughter would be at the top of every class. I do my best to make sure that she gets her work done.

Kitty’s desk was in a state of controlled chaos, papers loosely scattered across the top. How on earth does she know what’s what? I asked myself. Looking through them, it did seem that she’d completed her maths, at least.

There was a book lying on the floor, and I picked it up. It was a classic called Black Beauty that I’d bought for her last year. It was one of my favorite books back when I was Kitty’s age, and I paused to open it, just to see if reading a few paragraphs might bring back memories.

But the contents inside were completely different — in fact, it wasn’t Black Beauty at all. What I held was a journal, its pages filled with closely written text in my daughter’s neat hand. I was puzzled for an instant, then it all made sense, She’d taken this diary and wrapped it in the jacket of another book. Why would she do such a thing? To hide it from me, that’s why.

I was fully aware that reading the contents would violate an unwritten code of motherly conduct, so I placed it on the desk and turned to leave the room — but then I hesitated. If I just take a little peek inside, she’d never know. Just a page or two. My curiosity was overtaking my good judgment. I reasoned with myself that first, she’d never know that I read it; second, I couldn’t imagine that my little girl could have any secrets that would fray the bond between us.

So I picked up the book, sat on the end of her bed and opened it on the last page. That’s all I’ll read, I told myself. That much, no more.

The page began in the middle of a sentence:

gave me a dirty look so I told her to fuck off. She’ll probably never speak to me again, but I don’t care. Now I’m home and I’ve gotta do my homework.

I hope Jaqui will ring so I can go over there… and I especially hope that her mum isn’t home, so we can carry on where we left off. What she did to me was awesome!! How did she know how to make me feel so

That was where the text ended, presumably because Jaqui did in fact call and invite my daughter to come over. It looked as if Kitty, in her excitement, had forgotten to put the book back on the shelf. Maybe she’d knocked it off the desk in her haste to leave for her friend’s place.

Now I remembered that she’d been given this journal by her uncle on her last birthday, three months ago when she turned eleven. Frankly, I’d forgotten all about it. Now, here it was, filled with Kitty’s secrets. Of course, it was probably all innocent young girl stuff — dolls and pop singers, clothes and hair styles, film stars and pet hates.

Still… what did Kitty mean when she wrote that Jaqui had done something “awesome,” to her?

Unable to resist taking a further peek at the contents, I went to the beginning of the journal and rapidly skimmed the first few weeks, looking for the first mention of Jaqui — especially when Kitty first spent the night with her.

What do little girls do when they sleep in the same room together? If my own past is anything to go by, they do quite a lot. At Kitty’s age, I had a crush on a girl who was a year older, and somehow I managed to join a group of three other girls to stay overnight at her place for a big pajama party.

It was quite an adventure. We all got into our pajamas except for my idol, who announced that she always slept naked — and that night would be no exception. She looked like a goddess, her boobs just beginning to grow, curvy hips and a wisp of hair on her mound. Deciding to emulate her, I quickly stripped out of my own pajamas and lay back on the bed, legs casually spread, giving all the girls a good look at me. I’d never done anything like that before in my life, and quickly realized what a thrill it was to show myself off so lewdly. The others couldn’t resist the temptation to lose their own nightwear, and soon we were all naked.

We got into some very frank conversation about boys and sex, and before long we were engaging in kissing games — some of us pretending to be boys, then changing roles, so we all got to kiss and be kissed. Then just before bedtime, the five of us crowded into the shower and soaped each other, laughing and giggling at how naughty we were being. There was something of a battle to decide who’d sleep with my idol on the bed, which only had room for three. Being the youngest, I ended up on the floor, but it was still the most exciting night of my life up until then.

A couple of weeks later, I invited this girl to sleep at my house, and to my delight, she accepted. That night, we not only got naked and shared kisses, but she let me touch her. I eagerly fondled her tits and pussy, and then for the first time, another girl touched me down there. Well, I needn’t tell you what happened next, but after that evening, which took place just a week before my twelfth birthday, I knew for certain that I was gay.

That said, you may wonder how I came to have a daughter. Here’s how that happened. At a drunken party when I was at university, I was too far gone to resist the advances of an older guy. I was pretty much passed out when he fucked me. You could call it date rape, but it didn’t seem like a big deal until I discovered I was pregnant — and by then, he’d disappeared. But it all turned out beautifully when I gave birth to a lovely little girl whom I love to pieces. My parents helped me raise her, and now I’m glad things turned out as they did.

Once I found the entry from the night of Kitty’s first sleepover with Jaqui, I read on.

Oct 3rd:

OMG! I think I’m in love! Last night I slept at Jaqui’s house. Her parents are so cool. They let us hang out in Jaqui’s room (with the door locked!) and left us alone, all night long. Guess what. She kissed me! Right on the lips, a real kiss, not just a friendly peck but a kiss with tongue. Yes, a French kiss!! I had goose pimples all over. Of course I kissed her back ‘cos I’ve wanted to do that for weeks now, and last night my dream came true.

But it got even better when it came time to go to bed. She said we should sleep naked! She wasn’t at all shy about taking her clothes off in front of me and so neither was I. I’ve seen girls getting undressed before, like in the changing room at school, or at the municipal swimming pool, but never like Jaqui did. I told her she should be a stripper when she grows up. She looked dead sexy, slowly pulling her knickers down and showing off her pussy. Then she watched me as I undressed. I never knew how such an ordinary thing could be so exciting! She couldn’t take her eyes off me and told me I had a pretty pussy. We kissed some more, then got into bed. She took me in her arms and

Shit! Mum’s calling, gotta go.

I lay back on the bed, my mind in a whirl. A long time ago I told Kitty that I was gay, that I preferred women to men. I’m not sure that she appreciated the full import of my revelation at the time. It had to mean more to her, now that she was eleven, though we’d never really talked about it.

Now my daughter was exploring sex with another girl! Despite the fact that I’d done that very thing myself when I was no older than she was, I still felt somewhat uneasy — but at the same time, I couldn’t help but be aroused as well. Until this moment, she’d been an innocent little girl, but now things were different. My daughter was becoming a woman.

I weighed the pros and cons of her involvement with Jaqui. At her tender age, she could easily get her heart broken. On the other hand, it was a relief that she’d fallen for a girl. If a boy got into her knickers, all sorts of disastrous things could happen. A girl couldn’t get her pregnant, and she might learn to love lesbian sex just as much as I did. If she followed in my footsteps, it might all work out.

Well, we’d have to see. I found my way to the next entry.

Oct 5th:
 I’ve decided that I’m in love, really in love for the first time! All those crushes I had on other girls and on Miss Wilson were just kid’s stuff, nothing like this. I absolutely adore Jaqui. Just looking at her makes my legs go weak. She hasn’t actually said he’s in love with me, but I’m sure she will soon.

The other night was awesome!! We admitted to each other that we finger ourselves, no surprise there, and now she knows my biggest secret. She let me watch as she did it but the best bit was when she asked if she could do it to me, and of course I said yes. OMG, her fingers were like fire on my pussy! Then she let me do it to her! We went to sleep curled up like spoons and I woke in the middle of the night with a sore arm, ‘cos Jaqui was sleeping on it. I pulled it out and it woke her. We fingered each other again, but she fell asleep in the middle of it. Never mind, I still love her to bits.

Well, well, my little girl was into lesbian sex. As a parent, I should’ve been concerned, but when I thought about my own explorations at Kitty’s age, I couldn’t blame her. I’d have liked to have been able to confide in my daughter, maybe even give advice to help her through the rough patches she’d undoubtedly encounter. But then she’d know that I’d been reading her diary, and I couldn’t let that happen.

I turned the page and read on.

Oct 6th:
We did it at school! During lunch break we went to the bathroom and both got into one stall. She took her knickers off and squatted on the loo so that her feet couldn’t be seen below the door and she let me run my fingers over her pussy. Then she shoved her hand down the front of my knickers and put her finger into me. It didn’t hurt, ’cos I broke my hymen months ago with the handle of my hairbrush.

It was lovely, but then someone came in and we froze with our fingers in each other, trying not to giggle until she used the toilet and left. Then she did, and we started doing it again, me rubbing her and her rubbing me until we both came.

We kissed some, and then she put her wet finger in my mouth!! I didn’t mind, that was the naughtiest thing of all. I’ve tasted my pussy before, but it’s way better from Jaqui’s fingers!

I put Kitty’s diary on the bed, open and face down, then lay back, my mind in a whirl, my cunt tingling like mad as my mind played the scene out like I was watching a video. Without even thinking about it, I dragged up my dress, put a hand down the front of my knickers and thrust three fingers deep into myself. I hadn’t realised how wet I was.

Every mum thinks her own daughter is beautiful. Obese mums love their little chubbies and buck-toothed mums adore their little Bugs Bunnies, but I know that my daughter is exceptional, a classic English rose — blonde, blue eyed with skin like a peach, a sweet slender body and the first hint of breasts. Still, I’d never thought of her as an object of sexual desire. Up until then, she’d just seemed too young. True, I’d had my own childhood crushes on girls, not to mention that pajama party, but I was an exception. Or was I? How many eleven year olds are into masturbating their classmates? Perhaps there were more than I thought.

As for Jaqui, she had a kind of street urchin look, with short spiky hair seldom combed, an elfin face with freckles that made her look like she’d just performed a minor act of larceny, and a naughty grin revealing gleaming white teeth. Like Kitty, she was months away from puberty, her chest flat as a board and no trace of hair under her arms. There was an air of mischief about her, as if she’d just stolen an apple from your tree even though she had her own orchard. She could’ve quite easily passed for a boy. If I’d met her under any other circumstances, she might have awakened my inner paedophile — but Jaqui was my daughter’s friend, and therefore out of bounds.

I was spread out on the bed, recreating the scenes from Kitty’s diary in my mind, plunging my fingers as deep as they’d go into my dripping cunt, letting the pleasure build. I felt like one of those Hawaiian surfers I’d seen in documentaries — streaking down a colossal wave as it built behind me, curling over until I was in the tube, then having it break, burying me in a blinding white foam of swirling lust, tossing me every which way until I slowly floated back to the surface, gasping for air.

Fuck, I thought to myself, I just came to an image of an eleven year old child, the same age as my own daughter. And I hardly knew the kid! I felt like some kind of pervert.

I withdrew my hand from my knickers, then brought it to my nose, inhaling deeply. The familiar aroma of my sex was comforting, helped to center me. I sucked on my fingers, loving the flavor, wondering if Jaqui tasted the same. And how would Kitty’s taste?

Oh, my God, I thought. Don’t go there, damn it. Get a grip on yourself!

I made a mental note of the date in Kitty’s diary, closed it and carefully placed it back on the floor, exactly as I’d found it. Then I opened the window to dissipate the smell of pussy that pervaded the room. I walked into the bathroom, took my wet knickers off and threw them in the laundry hamper, then went downstairs to pour myself a glass of wine. Deciding to bring the whole bottle along, I plonked myself down on the couch.

I thought about what, if anything, I should do about this growing passion between Kitty and Jaqui. I longed to talk to Kitty and assure her that what she was doing was nothing to be ashamed of… maybe even tell her about the lesbian experiences I’d had at her age. But then she’d know that I’d read her diary. I realised that my hands were tied. I could only let events unfold, and give my darling daughter what support I could.

Setting my glass to one side, I stretched out on the sofa and closed my eyes. Pleasant images of Kitty and Jaqui cavorting naked through a sun-dappled woodland glade drifted through my mind as I slowly nodded off.

*****

Waking to the sound of giggles, I opened my eyes to see Kitty standing in front of me, Jaqui next to her. They were both covering their mouths, trying not to laugh.

“Hi, guys,” I said, lazily stretching my arms. “What time is it?”

“School’s out,” said Kitty, smirking at me. “Where are your knickers, Mum?”

Oh, God, I’d forgotten to replace my wet ones. There I was, sprawled on the couch, legs spread open and my cunt in full view. I snapped my legs shut.

“Sorry, g-girls,” I stammered, feeling my face getting hot. “Um, they were getting sweaty so I ditched them, then I guess I forgot to put on clean ones.”

Now over her amusement, Kitty gave me a puzzled look. “What’s up, Mum? You’ve never done anything like that before.”

“Like what before?”

She rolled her eyes. “Not wear knickers.”

I was about to say something like, It’s just your mum being forgetful… goodness gracious, what difference does it make? Then it struck me that this was a perfect opportunity for what I wanted most of all right then: to talk to my daughter about sex in a frank and honest way.

Taking a deep breath, I said, “You know, sweetheart, you shouldn’t ever feel ashamed of your body. When  you’re at home, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go without undies if you want to — or be completely naked, for that matter. You’re growing up, so you and I shouldn’t be afraid to be more… open about things.”

“Even sex?” Kitty said, clearly testing the waters.

“Especially sex,” I replied.

“Um, can I be more open about stuff when I’m here?” asked Jaqui.

“Yeah, but don’t tell your mum.” This was perfect, just what I’d hoped for. We were already sharing secrets, involving ourselves in a conspiracy of silence, touching on intimate subjects — what better way to bond with a precocious preteen girl?

“Can Jaqui sleep over?” asked Kitty. “Her mum says it’s okay.”

“By all means,” I said, my pulse picking up as I thought what might happen behind her bedroom door that night.

*****

The following afternoon, I was back in Kitty’s bedroom. Black Beauty was where it belonged, up on the shelf with her other books. I carefully removed it, sat on the bed and thumbed to the page where I’d left off.

Oct. 7th:
Mum’s acting strange. I came home and found her asleep on the couch with no knickers on. Jaqui thought it was pretty funny, and so did I. When Mum woke up, I asked her why, and she said stuff about not being ashamed of our bodies, and that I could talk to her about sex if I wanted. I know she’s a lesbian and I’m cool with that, but she’s never said a lot to me about sex before.

My darling lover Jaqui stayed the night again, and you’ll never believe the stuff we did. Mum let us borrow her laptop and we surfed porn, looking at lesbian stuff. AWESOME! Amazing pictures of naked women licking each other’s pussies and enjoying it a lot! We even saw a whole dirty movie that Jaqui found. It took forever to download, but it was great! Some of the noises the women made sounded totally fake, but I don’t think anyone would do that in front of a camera if they didn’t like it, unless it was just for the money. We watched another video where two girls rubbed their pussies together. Me and Jaqui and we tried to do that ourselves, but it wasn’t as good as what we did after.

What happened, was that Jaqui was sitting on the bed with the laptop in front of her and I was on my knees behind her. I reached round her and ran my hands up the inside of her thighs until I reached her pussy and then I started playing with it, sliding my finger in and then rubbing her little bump at the top. I guess it made her feel all crazy inside, ‘cos then she pushed me over on my back and attacked me with kisses. She was wild, shoving her tongue deep in my mouth and nibbling at my lips.

Then she looked me right in the eyes and said she wanted to lick my pussy like the girls on the internet so I let her. I lay on my back, legs spread out wide and first she just looked at my pussy really close up, then she put her mouth to it and started doing awesome things with her tongue. I was making those loud noises, just like the women in the movie, so maybe that wasn’t fake after all.

I was feeling better and better until I had this huge amazing feeling, a giant thrill that made me shiver all over. It lasted for ten or fifteen seconds, I’m not sure. It was like when I touch myself but a hundred times better. Oh wow, I finally had an orgasm!

When I could talk again I told Jaqui what happened. She asked me to do it to her, and I did. It took a while, but I didn’t mind because lying there with my face between her legs and my mouth on her pussy made me feel so happy. I could have done it to her all night, but pretty soon I made her cum too.

After that we lay together and kissed over and over. I’m SOOO in love! Like they say, head over heels. Oh, Jaqui, my darling, I adore you!

Oh, my God, my daughter had gone from an innocent little girl to an experienced lesbian in just a couple of days! Yes, I admit I got off to an early start myself, though getting from my first kiss to eating pussy took a couple of weeks. But honestly, I wasn’t upset at Kitty. In fact, I couldn’t even think of a good reason to rein her in. The way I saw it, she couldn’t come to any harm in the arms of another girl her own age. Even if she were to be seduced by an older woman, being a lesbian is so much less dangerous than fooling around with boys. I wanted to tell her that I was perfectly okay with what she was doing with Jaqui — but didn’t see how I could without Kitty figuring out that I’d been snooping through her diary.

Reading about my daughter’s first orgasm had got me all hot and bothered again, so I took off my dress and knickers and masturbated right there — sitting on Kitty’s bed, looking at myself in the mirrored closet doors. In my mind, Kitty and Jaqui were watching, an imaginary invisible audience behind the mirror, cheering me on. I spread my legs as wide as they’d go and plunged three fingers deep into my pussy.

If they were Kitty’s fingers, I thought, she could press her thumb into her palm and push her whole hand into me. After all, I’ve been fisted before, and always by girls whose hands were bigger than hers — or Jaqui’s, for that matter. Bet it would feel lovely, too…

Oh my God! Was I actually fantasising about my own daughter fisting me? I was, and weird though it may seem, I didn’t feel a scrap of guilt. Kitty, oh my darling Kitty, I thought to myself, I love you so much. I came like a hand grenade had gone off in my cunt.

Continue on to Part Two