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  • Posted on February 27, 2017 at 4:11 pm

 

A Young Desert Rose, Chapter 2

  • Posted on February 25, 2017 at 3:58 pm

By Sunnybunny

Angie’s reservations seemed to evaporate entirely once Heather was behind the wheel, gunning the engine and letting the custom-built engine roar to life. She let it hum like a predatory cat, glancing sidelong at Angie to gauge her reaction before revving her foot against the gas, making the beast under the hood roar. The girl’s eyes lit up like saucers, going from Heather to the hood of the car as if she could see through the sheet of metal of the hood to take in the engine underneath. Heather couldn’t stop herself from grinning, appreciating she had found a budding young gear-head out in the middle of nowhere.

They raced down the deserted street toward the busted intersection, kicking up great clouds of dust in their wake, slowing to a crawl beneath the traffic light and swinging left. Heather threw the shift about between them, flexing her feet expertly against the pedals, unable to stop herself from showing off a bit of her driving skills.

She couldn’t help but notice that as they rumbled past the filling station at the street corner, Angie hunkered down a little in her seat, until just the top of her sand-colored head could barely be seen over the door. Heather glanced back at the empty garage, flipping her sunglasses back down before asking, “I guess your dad wouldn’t approve of you getting into cars with strangers?”

Angie twisted around in her seat to stare back the way they had come, peeking over the top of the headrest. The dry wind was making her threadbare dress whip all around the car. “He told me to stay around the shop where he could see me until he finished up tonight.”

“Should I take you back then?” Heather felt a creeping feeling of doubt and the first real notion of fear. Had she technically kidnapped a kid? Suddenly she was feeling more than a bit like Chester the Child Molester and spied a good empty lot up ahead where they could turn around.

“I don’t think he’s even awake,” she said, turning back around to sit back heavily in the seat. “There really isn’t much work to do at the shop so mostly he just sits around, plays darts with Tommy Elder and drinks beer. That car, the one that’s hoisted up like that in the garage? It’s been there forever now, ain’t no parts for it around here so it’s on order. In the meantime, nothing to do but…” She shrugged, looking at Heather for the first time since they passed the place. “I really like your car. It’s a ’77, right?”

“You got a good eye,” she answered with a nod, impressed and not bothering to hide it.

“My dad taught me a lot about cars,” Angie answered without being asked. “I can even drive some.”

“You can drive?”

“You want me to show you?” A mischievous smile crossed her mouth, reached her eyes and lit them up. Heather was smiling now too.

“Not a chance.”

“How come? The only cop in town is back at my dad’s station, playing darts and drunk as a skunk.”

“There isn’t much here, eh?” Heather asked, changing the subject.

Angie didn’t press the matter and shook her head. “More’n you’d expect.”

“I saw a McDonald’s sign coming into town. Where is that?”

Angie chuckled at the question. “That place shut up before I was even born.”

Heather should have expected this but couldn’t help but feel a little crestfallen. “So much for that Big Mac Attack. Is the diner the only place to eat around here?”

Angie nodded her head, crossing her ankles over the low dash. The bottoms of her feet were stained a rich coffee-color. “Yeah, if you want anything else, it’s a pretty long drive to the next town over, ‘least two hours. Mostly though we get food from the grocery store. They have a freezer up front with tons of ice cream. It’s just up here.” She pointed lazily with one hand before tucking it behind her head, the picture of comfort.

“Make yourself at home, I guess,” Heather teased.

“Oh, I am.”

They pulled into the parking lot beside the rusted-out husk of an Impala. Heather reached into her front pocket and produced a crisp, new five-dollar bill and handed it over to Angie. “Grab me one too, huh?” Angie skipped up to the front door, her skirt lifting gently with each lift of her knee and threw the door open and vanished inside. The bell chime announcing her entry was a brass contraption tied to the inside handle. Through the wide glass windows of the front of the store, she spied Angie already leering over the top of the freezer near the register, raising up onto tip toe and grinning hungrily down at the pile of treats.

She laughed at something Heather couldn’t hear and slid the screen aside, fishing out two large pops wrapped in paper. A moment later, she reappeared at the door, jogged down the steps toward the car, and hopped in over the top without bothering to open the door. She handed one of the two pops in her hand over. It had a cartoon character on the front, Spongebob Squarepants. Heather wondered if the large, blue eyes were gumballs like the ones she got from the ice cream trucks when she was Angie’s age.

Angie unwrapped her ice cream (another cartoon character but from a show Heather didn’t recognize) and placed it between her lips unable to keep herself from humming in delight.

They were back on the road again a moment later, racing down the narrow streets of Oasis with no new destination in mind, just enjoying the sensation of the wind in their hair and the ice cream melting against their lips.

“The mountains are on fire,” Angie pointed up ahead and indeed, a trick of the light of the setting sun made it seem like the range of mountains before them was ablaze. “That’s what my dad says all the time. There’s a lake out there somewhere too, s’what keeps the Oasis from burning up like all the other towns out here. Something about the wind coming off the water and down the mountains…” she trailed off. “Anyway, that’s what keeps this place alive.”

“Just barely,” Heather said before she could stop herself.

Angie laughed at that, smearing a bit of the treat across her cheek. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. It ain’t so bad though. It’s a friendly place with nice folks, don’t have to lock your doors at night like you do in the big city. Everyone knows everyone.”

“Is that something else your dad says?” Heather ribbed.

Angie blushed a little and smiled, nodding. “Yeah…pretty often, too. Especially when I tell him I’m bored and that there’s nothin’ to do!”

“Is that pretty often? Being bored with nothing to do?”

Angie made a face, taking another lick of her ice cream. Her tongue was long and pink, with a purple streak running down the middle from the treat. “Only sometimes. When Mary Rose isn’t tied up with her piano lessons at the church or Billy Ross can come out and…” she paused, hesitating on the word ‘Play’ before switching it to “…hang out. Missy Tat and Denny are usually around but they had chores to do, so I just been bored all day by myself.” She looked over, smiling through ice cream stained lips. “That’s when I noticed this car of yours and had to get a good look. I know everyone’s car in town, my dad’s fixed ‘em all for some thing or another over the years. No one in Oasis has a car like THIS. So I knew you were new.”

“At what point did you think about stealing change from my seats?” Heather teased but Angie looked hurt for a moment, looking away.

“I hope you don’t think too bad of me. I wouldn’t have done it, I don’t think. I feel awful sorry about it.”

Heather reached over to ruffle the girls head good-naturedly. Angie’s hair was thick, soft and flecked with coarse grains of sand. It was meant as a gesture of affection but it drew a frown across the child’s face.

“Why are grown-ups always trying to pat me on the damn head?”

Heather didn’t know if it was the huff in her voice or the liberal use of a swear, but it made her laugh all the same. It sounded strangely natural, and it was clear that Angie was no stranger to cussing and likely wasn’t reprimanded for it too often.

“Sorry, guess it’s because you’re so cute. We can’t help it.”

“People say that a lot, too,” Angie said in her wiser than her year’s voice.

They raced past the old, blown out husk of what was once the McDonald’s, and Heather looked longingly back at it through the rearview mirror. The arches had faded to a bone-white but were still standing.

Before she knew it, Heather was glimpsing another worn sign bidding them farewell as they were leaving Oasis, wishing them safe travels and a speedy return. “There really isn’t much more to see,” Angie commented. “This road goes all the way into California if you follow it long enough but there isn’t anything to look at between here and there but more sand.”

The fire on the mountains was spreading down into the valley, igniting the dunes into pyres and the scattered trees and cactus stalks to torches. She wondered if the town would look ablaze on their return trip?

She glanced over at her impromptu passenger, got a twinge of the anxiety from before, fretting if she had technically kidnapped this girl and perhaps now her father was scrambling about their tiny town with Oasis’ single police officer in a panic. Heather turned her head, opening her mouth to shout over the blowing wind and sound of the engine in order to be heard but paused at the sight of Angie’s slender legs.

The dress had snaked its way up her hips, revealing flesh sun-dyed the same dark tone as the rest of her. Heather’s breath hitched again and a heat spread out on her face that had nothing to do with the desert wind. She forced herself to look away but the glimpse had left her chest tight, as if her ribs were constricting around her heart. Heather tightened her grip on the wheel, hoping more to get a firmer grasp on the situation rather than the car rocketing more than sixty down a barren stretch of highway. She chanced another look, longer this time, unable to help herself. The tender area where the girls legs met her hips was visible, scarlet in the rapidly fading light, encircled by the leg-hole of her tiny panties, looking just as old and worn out as the dress blowing around them.

Heather took a shaky breath, willing her nerves to calm down while she searched her mind for an explanation for what was happening. Heather had always jokingly referred to herself as a sexual deviant but…no, there was no way there was any sort of real….she was lost in her reasoning for a time, lapsing into silence while she tried and failed to sort it out.

She slowed the car to a crawl and nosed it to the shoulder of the road. In the rearview mirror, the town was a speck of yellow light far, far in the distance. Heather looked over at Angie who was gazing over the passenger door, looking completely comfortable for someone so young to be literal miles from home with a complete stranger. All at once, Heather recalled long school assembly meetings from grade school, where a few local police officers would gather all the students together in the cafeteria or auditorium to warn them all about ‘stranger danger’.

Heather whipped the wheel around in a tight circle motion, preparing to head back the way they had come. They had probably already gone too far, been gone too long, and Angie was likely going to be in serious trouble but…

Instead of going back down the highway she rolled to the opposite shoulder and punched the car into neutral and set the parking brake, but didn’t cut the engine. They idled for a beat before Angie turned around to face Heather. “Why are we stopped?” The ice cream was long gone but she was still sucking idly on the stick. Her lips were lightly stained a dark purple, as if she was wearing lipstick. Her question did not show any sign of fear or concern, and that filled Heather with relief for some reason.

“Angie,” she began slowly, through a dry mouth. “I need to touch you.” She quieted almost at once, heart thundering like a jackhammer once the words were out. It hadn’t been a request, but a statement, as casual as if she had said she was getting a drink of water to quench her thirst. “You don’t have to do anything, just sit quiet and still while I do it.” Her heart was beating faster with each word until she was certain it would cause a heart attack. Heather unbuckled her own seatbelt with trembling fingers and shifted in her seat to face Angie beside her. The girl still did not appear anxious or frightened, but there was definitely something playing across her young features. Was it more curiosity? Or was that just Heather trying to ease her own conscience for what she was about to do…

She reached for Angie, sliding the palm of her hand across her middle to encircle her fingers around the girls ribs. The fabric wasn’t as soft as it looked and Heather tugged it higher, bunching it up around Angie’s middle to reveal her body. Her belly was smooth, warm beneath her hand, almost hot and slightly damp with a sheen of sweat. Heather drew in a shaky breath, scooting across the middle of the bench to sit closer to the girl, trembling so bad her fingers delayed in obeying her whims. They snaked drunkenly higher to caress Angie’s narrow chest, searching for a nipple but missing it. Her clumsy fingers became desperate, groping all around (for that was the only word that could best describe Heather’s lewd exploration) until they found the little dots of flesh and she gasped aloud. Never had she been so aroused, so wanton for someone, man or woman. Yet the simple sensation of the soft, tender flesh of this girl’s nipple rolling between her thumb and index finger had left her quivering. Heather buried her face in the nape of Angie’s neck, inhaling her scent. She smelled like sweat and open air and sand and cheap discount brand shampoo. Heather’s tongue darted out to taste her, coming away salty and sweet…

Angie made no move to stop her, simply sat quietly, allowing Heather to explore her without complaint or protest. She even shifted a little in her seat, moved her hands to make the path easier without being asked. Heather gripped the girls knobby knee, slid her palm flat up the smoothness of her inner thigh but could not bring herself to reach through her panties. Instead, she caressed Angie from the outside, her breath hitching again, smoothing her finger out against the little cleft of her slit before begging away. She fell heavily back into her side of the car, breathless and sweating coldly. “Th-thank you, Angie,” she murmured, her voice sounding strange and dazed even to her.

Angie made no reply, save from looking at her with a curious expression that knit her eyebrows together. The quiet grew longer, until it was palpable but Heather could not think of anything else to say, any sort of explanation for her behavior. It all had just been a surge of attraction, an animal magnetism that compelled her to act.

She buckled her seatbelt again and shifted the car back into gear, rolling along the gravel until they were on the highway again, racing toward town and pushing 90.

Chapter 3 is coming soon!

Pixie in Pink, Chapter 1

  • Posted on February 24, 2017 at 1:13 pm

By Sammy

Lizzie’s face was a soft foggy circle in my side window, still struggling to defrost in the morning air. The long drive up had been mostly silent, both of us knowing this moment was coming, yet neither able to prepare for it.

The way my daughter’s gold hair shone, even then, warmed me out of winter’s clutches, the hidden sun slipping from mind until I realized just how many mornings in the coming months I’d be clinging to it in her absence.

As she grew smaller in my rearview mirror, finally taking Brenda’s hand once we were just about out of sight of each other, it finally sunk in that I was going to be stuck for three hours in a car with no company and a radio I couldn’t afford to replace.

Oh, the things I do for her.

The things she does to me.

. . . . .

 

I’d guess it started with her stockings.

They were the first piece of skating gear I ever bought her. I can still see her stubby legs in Sears, scurrying over the minute she saw them. Pale, pink, with puffs on the heels. Probably not the best choice for squeezing into skates, but at least she had the good sense to head straight for the bargain rack.

She won her first competition in those stockings. And her second, third, and fourth. And every time, alone in the locker room or, in the arenas too small for them, a lone bathroom stall, I’d get the privilege of sliding them up her thin legs, Far too toned for five, I might think with silly jealousy, my hands cupping her thighs nearly all the way around and knowing even then that my pleasure was much less than motherly. (Or would that be more?) Which might have started to gnaw at me for a moment. Then Lizzie would peck me on the lips with an ecstatic “Thank you, Mommy!” and I’d smooth her short hair by the back of her neck, and everything would be okay again. Because I knew that whatever was inside me, whatever it was growing into, I would never, ever do anything to hurt her. She was my baby girl. My very life. And, well, just because she was that, it didn’t mean she couldn’t also be my own personal pixie in darling pink stockings.

And watching her, in them, in action… different pairs through the years, sure, but some things never changed. The pink crinkling slightly at the knees as she’d crouch for a jump.  Legs spreading at the top of the arc, skirt flitting up around her hips just enough for that round little bottom to peek out, hiding the briefest pooch in the centre. And her muscles tensing when she landed, and the smile she’d effortlessly flash without losing a smidgen of focus, picking me out of the crowd wherever I was.

And then them, in the laundry… I’d make sure to wash everything right when we got home, as then I could still feel the sublime blend of chill and sweat as I rubbed them on my face, my breasts, my stomach, further below… she, upstairs in the dead midst of her post-skate nap, and me, in the laundry room struggling with feelings it took me far too long to understand, as if there was much to understand about sliding my daughter’s various underthings across my mound, the tangled frills of little-girl-lace mingling with the wisps of my wheat-blonde pubic hair,  then deep inside, deep as I could go, till I was coming again and again.

And that was about how it went. Until the day when Lizzie was five, and I moved from the laundry room into her bedroom.

She had gone immediately from the rink to a birthday dinner for Felicia, the closest (and cutest) friend she had made of all her fellow skaters. I had the house to myself, and before I knew it I was crossing the house, from the veiled motherliness of laundry inspection to the abject perviness of basket-raiding, mining her big beige bucket for the freshest pair I could find, dried sweat and specks of whatever else — God, everything else — on the gusset I was soon sucking off, feeling out of my body as I was furiously cumming on her bed, my eyes drifting, at the very last moment, to the family of soft brown teddies staring at me from the corner they had claimed long ago. I was stilled by that in a way I still can’t describe. Every time thereafter, I made sure there was enough room for all of us.

And there were many thereafters — the dam had burst. My dreamland grew all the more intricate, imagining my daughter into all manner of scenarios. We toured the house in my head, me showing her the wonders of making love, taking her slowly and softly through her first time, relishing the moment I first touched my tongue to her virgin underneath. Eventually, the bathtub became my locale of choice. Soaking, soaping, my legs spread wide and just touching the sides of the tub in symmetry, Lizzie nestled in my center, my ankles crisscrossed behind her legs as I held her tight, filling her unsure mouth with my tongue as her smooth mound slid against my belly in the sudsy mess. Feeling every quiver as she came for the first time, her tiny body invaded by impossible pleasures she had no conception of… and that was only the beginning.

And the funny thing is, I don’t know whether I ever could have started out on this grandest of adventures if Lizzie hadn’t been so intent on her own.

She was a born explorer, whether through the thick evergreens surrounding our little backyard pond, or the endless nooks and crannies of our large, winding country home. She loved our crawlspace in particular, so much so I had to place a six-foot wardrobe in front of the entrance to it in my bedroom. That only seemed to enchant her more, though — the Narnia effect? — and one night while I was out with my friends, she “accidentally” tossed a sock behind it. When Brenda, her babysitter, had managed to budge it just enough, Lizzie scurried between her legs, right into the darkness, and refused to come out.

Poor Brenda was beside herself. And then Lizzie found the skates.

They were in the back, right behind the Christmas lights and boxes of ugly heirloom glassware, where they’d been sitting, untouched, since my mother’s death from Alzheimer’s ten years before.

I suppose what happened next would best for Brenda to explain. Not to mention that transcribing the voicemail, which I still have after all these years, means I get to listen to that faint sexy lisp for the millionth time.

Uh, hi, Ms. Masters. This is Brenda… Brenda the babysitter… of course. God, so stupid. I, um, just wanted to warn you that you might be coming home to a little situation here at the house. See, Lizzie tricked me and got into the crawlspace and absolutely would not come out, and then she found this really old pair of skates, and begged me to take her out to the pond. I know I shouldn’t have, but she said just for a few minutes, and now she won’t stop! …  But, um, Ms. M, I really gotta say, you wouldn’t believe how quickly she took to it. You know I trained with my Aunt Ellen up north and have been doing competitions for a few years, and I think I’ve never seen such a natural. And I’ve definitely never seen a four-year-old get a foot off the ground and actually stay on her feet, let alone in skates I had to stuff with extra socks. And I’m sorry if this seems nosey… but I really have to ask… there was a “Pat” sewn into the heel of the skates… Pat Masters… was she Lizzie’s grandmother?

I came home shortly after that, to a brilliant glow from the backyard, arching out to the limits of the driveway. As I made my way towards the back of the house, I saw that the Christmas lights on our inside ring of evergreens were on and heard Lizzie laughing louder than I ever had before. She was circling the pond, tracing primitive but confident figures, and Brenda was on the stone bench beside the pond, hot chocolate in hand, cheering as Lizzie zipped around the ice. And I mean zipped.

I noticed Brenda’s thighs subtly rubbing together. Her eyes were on Lizzie, intent, unblinking. But she turned towards me immediately when my foot crunched snow.

“Hi, Ms. M!”

“Please, Brenda, I told you. Abby is fine.”

She blushed. Lizzie, skating, still hadn’t seen me. “She’s really taken to it, huh?”

“Yup. We’ve been out here two hours now. She’s barely stopped for a breath.”

“But I mean… the figures. She’s actually doing figures.”

She shrugged and smiled shyly. “Once I realized she wasn’t getting off the ice, I thought I might as well pass the time somehow. So I showed her a few things. I hope you don’t mind… ”

I stopped and looked at my daughter on the ice. She was in her own world, completely, her body seemingly relishing its testing of these new boundaries in this new world, the cruelty of my hiding it from her making me flinch.

I glanced at Brenda, whose own eyes were set on Lizzie.

“No, Brenda, I don’t mind. And, to answer your earlier question… yes.”

“Yes, what… Abby?”

“Yes, my mother was Pat Masters.”

She seemed as if she hadn’t understood me.

Olympics Pat Masters?”

“Yes, Brenda… ” I smiled, unable to resist the urge to mimic her incredulity, if just a little. “Olympics Pat Masters.”

Right then, Lizzie spotted me.

“Mommy!” She sped over to us, leaping over the snow at the edge of the pond and into my open arms. I held her tight and pressed my cheek to hers. “Did you see me?!”

“I sure did, baby.”

She pulled back and smiled at me with every last tooth. “Did you see what Brenny taught me? All of my… my fingers?”

I chuckled. “Figures, sweetie. They’re called figures.”

“Yeah, my figures! Did you see? I made an eight!”

“Wow, a four-year-old making a whole eight on her first try. That must be some kind of record.”

“Yeah! Do you know how to do any, Mommy?”

My eyes caught Brenda’s, peeking out from beneath her purple knit cap, boring deeply into mine. She grinned.

“Yeah, Abby… do you?”

. . . . .

 

From then on, Brenda was Lizzie’s trainer. Both of us tried convincing my daughter that if she was serious about skating, which, as she adamantly affirmed, she was, she should be in an actual class, or at least trained by a professional, not a girl who still had so much to learn herself. But Lizzie was adamant: It had to be Brenny. And I remembered enough from my brief stint (I guess you could say I did once know a handful of my own… fingers) to know that for Lizzie’s experience level, i.e. none, Brenda would do just fine.

And for her age and experience, Brenda certainly was accomplished. She had been on the ice herself since the age of three, and had even begun coaching skaters younger than herself when she turned thirteen. She was also persistent and curious, which, I think, are just about the two most important qualities for success in anything.

And did I forget to mention she was gorgeous? God, was she gorgeous. This was some time before I had come to accept my feelings for Lizzie, but upon meeting Brenda, I had indulged freely and fully. She was thin and wiry, in a way that seemed to be both from and naturally gifted for her sport, with nipples that were delectably erect more often than not, usually braless under her thin t-shirts and knit sweaters. I had been letting myself leer maybe a little too often lately, and I was pretty sure she’d noticed at least once or twice. I couldn’t help it, nor a snuck whiff of her fragrant brown hair just about every time we were close. And I simply enjoyed spending time with her: she made me laugh. She often came off as naive, even for her age, and yet… there was a more-than-occasional fierceness to her I found irresistible. She was a fighter, another symbiotic match to her skating. I could always tell there was more to her than I, or I bet anyone else in her life, her prudish parents included, knew there was.

In the weeks after my daughter’s home ice debut, Brenda repeatedly skirted around the question of my own mother. She was a fan, that much was clear, but she was also perceptive enough to see it was something of a sore issue.

One night, we were sitting in my car in her driveway after a night of babysitting.

“I kinda wanna ask you something, Ms. Masters — sorry, Abby… but it’s personal.”

“Please don’t be shy, Brenda. I trust you like a member of the family now. Really, I have to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lizzie thinks the world of you, and as far as she’s concerned, you’re her way to the championships.”

We both giggled. “Championships, huh? Did she mention… which?”

“She wasn’t able to narrow it down. But you know what? I believe her. As much as it makes me feel like some kind of filthy careerist, I believe her.  And more importantly, I believe you can help her there.”

She demurred. “Wow. That means a lot, Abby. Like I told you, Lizzie is incredibly talented.”

“Thank you, dear. I know she is.”

“What I wanted to ask you, though… it’s not about Lizzie.”

I smiled politely. “Just ask what you want to ask, Brenda.”

“Your mother.”

“That’s not a question, dear.”

She grimaced and pursed her forehead. I have to say I enjoyed it, if just a little bit.

“Okay. What was up with your skating? Or… your not skating… and, well, your mother? I mean… she’s a legend. Medalling at three Olympics in a row, the Order of Canada, frenching Maggie Trudeau… ” She blushed and looked away for a moment. “But you told me you don’t even skate.”

“That’s right. I don’t.”

Her eyes searched mine. “But why? What happened?”

I struggled to answer. My mother had been forgotten by most. She seemed to be one of the few cases where post-glory reclusiveness had actually seemed to work, instead of increasing the attention paid to her. I hadn’t had to answer anything like this for years. Reporters and documentarians had stopped scouring long ago.

“You see, Brenda… my mother was a difficult woman. Demanding. Exacting.”

“You mean… abusive?”

“No. Never. But there’s a thinner line than you may think between abuse and ritual.”

“I don’t understand.”

“My mother, and she was a good mother… well, I suppose she found it difficult to distinguish between a pupil and a daughter.”

“So… ”

“So… I stopped skating.”

“You mean altogether?”

“Yes, Brenda. Altogether.”

“Was that hard for her? I mean… ”

I bristled. “She managed.”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply that, well —”

“It’s okay, sweetie. I understand.”

“But I don’t. Understand, I mean. And I want to… ”

The yearning in her eyes was unmistakable. I had no chance to think before Brenda’s lips were on mine, firmly, right there in the driveway in front of her parents’ house. I let my pleasure overtake my reason and met the movements of her lips with my own. We went back and forth a few times, chewing, sucking. Her breathing got heavier. She made a sound from the back of her throat and muttered my name dreamily. I reached a hand out to hers and grasped it, intertwining our fingers. She was sweating, and anxious, determined. Everything I did with my lips, she seemed to match. We continued like that for some minutes until a light emerged from the second floor of her house, causing her hand to pause about an inch from my breast, half-uncovered in my blouse. Then, somehow, I managed to grab her shoulders and pull my mouth away.

“Brenda, we can’t do this.”

“But… why? I mean, I’ve seen the way you look at me… ”

“I’m attracted to you, okay? I can’t deny that. You’re a beautiful girl, Brenda.”

She looked out the window towards the front door, hiding her face. The mother in me sensed intimately the parents in there, waiting up for her.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You’re fifteen. And Lizzie’s babysitter. And fifteen.”

“I know. Boy, don’t I know… ”

She still hadn’t met my eyes, and I was still racking my brain for an appropriate way to tell her I’d probably fuck her, no matter how old she was, if we weren’t in her parent’s driveway.

“Look, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, Ms. M… as long as I get to talk to you.”

I cupped her chin. “Hey. You’ll always get to talk to me. Okay?”

A smile. “Okay.”

Then I found myself treading the pervert’s well-trod path. “Just… make sure you don’t tell your parents about any of this, all right?”

“Are you kidding? I don’t tell my parents anything.”

I chuckled. “Well, that doesn’t exactly make me feel better.”

She shook her head. “Look. I feel close to you, Abby. Okay? In a way I can’t be to either of them. It might be messed up, but I just can’t. Whatever happens with us, or” — she took an almost imperceptible breath and looked away — “with Lizzie, they won’t know about.”

I felt overwhelmed, by everything. “Okay, dear. Just… Christ, tell me what you tell them, okay?”

“Okay, Ms. M.”

We shared some silence.

“Well, I gotta get back. That light’s been on for like five minutes.”

“Good night, dear.”

“Good night… Abby.”

She left the car, jogged up to her front door, and waved just a little too enthusiastically before ducking inside. I laid my head on the back of my car seat, reeling over what I told her. It was more, by far, than I’d ever told anyone, including every woman I’d ever fucked.

What I hadn’t told Brenda, however, was that, the night I came home to Lizzie’s skating, after I had driven her home… I showed my daughter my mother. By that, I mean, I sat Lizzie down and, for the first time, showed her the freestyle program that had won her grandmother the Olympic gold medal in women’s figure skating. The two of them never had a chance to meet, my mother having passed several years before Lizzie was born.

We snuggled into the couch, our eyes set on the television. We watched my mother psyching herself up, the camera catching scattered glimpses of her in the dimly lit hallway of the arena, offset by her bright blue skirt and brighter red hair. By the time Pat started her routine, Lizzie’s eyes were glued to the screen. I tried to see what she was seeing, divorced from my eyes, this woman my daughter knew only in old photos and scattered stories, reaching and exceeding the summit of what she now sensed was her birthright. But all of that trying to see what she could see was quickly supplanted by what I was seeing. Namely, the object of my most intense adolescent fantasies flexing every physical and emotional muscle while I cradled the impossibly beautiful creature I had given birth to. Who turned me on more than my mother ever did. No small task.

I soon realized my dancing fingers on my daughter’s skin, begun as innocent warming as our house heating geared up, were timing themselves to the rhythms of my mother’s intricate movements on the ice, to which I had masturbated more times than I could count. Not only this routine, but variations of it in competitions the months and years following, one jump exchanged for another, newer and sharper feats of physicality that only strengthened my desire to fuck my mother’s brains out. And holding Lizzie in my arms, her attention unbroken from the screen, I didn’t fight it — I embraced it. I fed off of her, my palms flat and open, feeling her tensing and flinching in excitement to what she was watching. Tiny belly clenching when Pat landed a jump, letting out a little half-giggle I could feel in her neck when the crowd cheered. I was both gladdened and disappointed that Lizzie didn’t seem to notice my encroachments, intent as she seemed to be to connect what my mother was doing on the ice to what Brenda had taught her. And once I made that connection, I was helpless: my daughter was joining me and Brenda, linked between our hands, trading kisses with each of us before we bent our lips to her breasts barely there, nibbling her ripe young nipples, the purpose and vast pleasures of which she was so ignorant of. I made her in my mind watch Brenda and I make love, letting her know what I was doing immediately after I did it, preparing her for a life of lesbian servitude to her insatiable mother.

Okay. So I lied. I guess it didn’t entirely start with her stockings.

As I carried Lizzie down the hall to her room, she made me promise to show her as much of “Gramma on the ice” as I could (and I could show her pretty much everything). I moved us across the hardwood to her bed, not bothering with the lamp, and as I lowered her from my arms into the waves of moonlight on her sheets, I let my lips touch hers, and kept them there, close and tight, as I fell with her to the bed. We lay there, unmoving for some moments, then more, my hand firm to the back of her neck. I finally pulled away, shame and doubt rising up till I found myself melting in the glow of my daughter’s brilliant smile.

“I… I liked that, Mommy.”

“I did too, Lizzie.”

“Why don’t we kiss always like that, when we kiss?”

“That’s a good question, sweetie.” A really good question, I thought to myself. Enough that I struggled to answer it. “That was more like a grown-up kiss than a kiss for mommies and daughters.”

“Grown-up? You mean like you and Daddy?”

“Yes, kind of like that.” I softly stroked her palm with my thumb. “You know, that’s the first time you’ve asked about Daddy since he went away.”

“I know… ”

“Have you been thinking about him?”

“Not really. But Felicia’s dad also got really sick went away, so we were talking about it.”

“I’m glad you have someone to talk to about that with, Lizzie.”

“Me too.”

“You like Felicia a lot, huh?”

“Yeah. I love her.”

I chuckled. “Love, huh? You’re growing up before my very eyes. But slow down a bit, hey? I’m not ready to have an adult daughter yet.”

“Why don’t you have a new grown-up friend since Daddy’s gone?”

“I guess I don’t need one right now, baby. It wouldn’t be fair to them. You’re all I have time for. All I need. And I love you more than I could ever love anyone.”

Her face took on a look of intense concentration. “Then maybe… maybe we can kiss like before, like grown-ups? Just sometimes?” She cast her eyes downward. “You’re so pr-etty… ”

It took everything in me not to ravage her right then. “Thank you, Lizzie. Mommy thinks you’re beautiful, too. But we’ll talk some other time about the kissing, okay?”

“Okay.” She seemed to have lost her shyness. “But, oh! I know a grown-up you can kiss.” She giggled. “Who really wants to kiss you, too!”

“And who would that be?”

“Felicia’s mommy.”

“Paulette… ” I murmured, half to myself as I pictured the fit, fetching woman with the short black hair.

“Yeah, we heard her on the phone in the other room. She was talking to Felicia’s Aunt Sarah. Felicia’s mom told her that I was staying for dinner, then she laughed, and said ‘yeah, the real cute one with the real hot mama.’” My face flushed. “That means she likes you, doesn’t it, Mommy?”

“Erm, well, sounds like she likes you too, darling.” And with the way cute sounded in that context, I couldn’t help but wonder just how much…

“Yeah, but you guys can be grown-up friends, like you said. Felly and I talked all about it.”

“Boy, you two sure have everything figured out, don’t you?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I guess you’re more grown-up than I thought.” Again fighting off wild urges, my tongue worming between her perfect little lips, I pecked her on the cheek and tucked her in tight.

“Mommy, can I ask you one more question?”

“Of course, sweetie.”

“Can we watch more of Gramma tomorrow?”

That I can say yes to. Absolutely.”

Chapter 2 is coming soon!

How My Niece Juli Came To Be My Vixen, Chapter 5

  • Posted on February 21, 2017 at 4:01 pm

By Openmindedwoman

Anita and I sat on the plush couch in her den happily sipping glasses of wine. Through the sliding glass doors to the backyard patio we could see her daughter Amy and my niece Juli laughing and kicking a soccer ball back and forth, full of the after-school kind of playful energy that seventh graders ought to have.

“Amy wants to be on the high school soccer team when she gets to that age,” her mother said in a wistful voice. “But we haven’t really done any special community or lower school teams like lots of the girls do to get their skills up.”

“She certainly is naturally athletic!” I proclaimed, watching her curls bounce and her strong young legs move quickly and with agile turns as she moved the ball. “And don’t tell me she doesn’t have any very special skills. You’ve been a wonderful teacher.” I let my hand rest casually on Anita’s thigh as we talked. She covered it with her own, our upper arms and shoulders in light, warm contact.

Anita laughed a low knowing laugh and turned to face me. “Yes, Leslie… it wasn’t THAT kind of special skill I was talking about. But she does have some talents that you don’t even know about.”

“Yet?” I countered.

“Yes…. ‘yet’,” she whispered back. “And I imagine that Juli might have some of those same talents.”

“Welllll,” I fluttered my eyes with an exaggerated look, and whispered, “She might have had a lesson or two that she would be anxious to share.”

Quiet surrounded us for a few moments as the girls ran and played, wearing tee shirts and loose gym style shorts in the spring sun. We each seemed lost in our thoughts, and if Anita’s were going where mine were, then perhaps she had the same butterflies I was having low in my naughty stomach.

Finally I asked the question that had been intriguing me since our amazingly erotic escapade there previous weekend. “Anita, tell me more about you and Amy. I mean, nursing her so long, sustaining your lactation? She’s just turned 13!”

“Oh, Leslie,” Anita blushed a bit and her hand went subconsciously to her full bosom, rubbing over one and then the other of her very full breasts.

“Please,” I said, “it’s okay, whatever it’s about. I hope you could tell that from the things that happened… how eager Juli was to watch her new friend nurse from you like that…  how eager she was to do it herself… and how wonderfully excited it made ME to think…  to wonder… especially watching those two young naked darlings under your spell.”

“It began so naturally, Leslie, when Amy was born, and she hungrily breastfed, it seemed to me.” Anita’s fingers never left her breasts, moving lightly from the tip of one to the tip of the other while she talked, almost as if in a trance. “My nipples have been wonderfully sensitive ever since I started jilling myself, or even before that. I don’t know why, but they seem to be like wired electric circuits straight to my… ummm… my…”

“To your pussy, Anita…. it’s good to talk openly between us now. As you saw, I’ve taught Juli that certain words are for the doctor’s office, and some are meant to be savored on the tongue in ways that suggest the erotic woman… or girl… that we are.”

Anita smiled, “Well, yes, then, from my rather oversized… tits… right to my… pussy. And when she would suckle, I tried at first to remain calm, motherly, but it wasn’t long before I realized the mess I was making in my panties, and I started feeding her just in an open robe, sitting on the tail of it, but naked, and as she would move from one side to the other, I began to allow the hand that wasn’t cradling her to move to my wetness, and soon I was jilling every time she would feed. It was wonderful.”

“I can surely understand that,” I said with a smile, letting my forehead move to her temple in a warm, reassuring gesture. “Mine have been a lot like that as long as I can remember too, though I’ve not had the experience of motherhood. But then, years went by?”

“Actually,” she answered, “I continued until Amy was four, and I found myself wondering if it was just too much… whether she was actually aware of my heartbeat, or what I was doing.  She would crawl up into my lap after a bath, naked, and nudge, wanting to suckle, and for me it was like a siren call to an exciting and loving place far from the real world and filled with amazing pleasure. It got so I would caress her as she started… feeling her arms, armpits, tummy… chest.”

I nodded and grinned, fingers moving lightly on her thigh. “Sounds pretty familiar in lots of ways, actually.”

Anita continued, “But I was also not really producing much in the way of milk by then. I’ve learned that it is different for all women in that way.  Some can go on for years as long as the feeding is continuous, some can’t.  So I decided to let it stop, and soon I was normally dry.

“It must have been almost a year and a half later that my little foxy sweetheart surprised me with her awareness. There was a scene in some TV show we were watching that played on the subject, and she asked if that wasn’t what we used to do. I said that it was, and she asked right out why we stopped, because she liked it a lot, and she had the feeling that I did, too.”

I was beginning to get fidgety feelings as mental images of those moments went through my mind.

“Are you OK with this, Leslie?” Anita slid her hand from the top of mine up my arm a ways.

“Oh, wow, more than okay, Mommy Anita. Since we are being honest with each other, let me say that it gives me a very fluttery spot inside to hear you talk about it.”

She smiled broadly and continued, one hand on top of mine, one hand still sliding back and forth from one full breast to the other, her head tipped towards mine enough that they rested together. “Well, long story short, with the help of a few hormones I took, I was able to start lactating again, and some time later, with a nervous lump in my throat I asked her if she remembered asking me about us stopping her feeding sessions, and if she would ever like to do it again. Then she surprised me once more, not only firmly saying she would, but also saying that she thought maybe I was liking it, too.”

I let a sigh of… what… amazement, arousal, intrigue slide through my lips, almost a low whistle. “And so…?” I prompted her.

Anita licked her lips, took a deep breath, and admitted that she had told her daughter that indeed she loved doing it, and it made her feel good in a very special way, and very close to the daughter she loves so much.

“And so we started again, not as often as one would feed a newborn, but often enough to be a hugely satisfying way for us to bond. And yes, I continued to turn myself on while she suckled, and at least half the time I brought myself to orgasm. I don’t know just when I could tell that there was some unspoken communication about body arousal, but Amy would get warm as I got warm. Sometimes we weren’t naked when we did it. Sometimes it would be after school and we would just sit in our clothes, or part of them, and I would get ‘uumhum’  or ‘uhhh-uhhh’ yes and no answers to questions about her day, and I would tell her about mine, with long silent spaces as we just enjoyed each other.”

“When did the time come that she really understood what it was about for you, Anita?” I asked in a low whisper, urging her story on.

“It was after she turned 10, I guess,” Anita responded, and I noticed that she seemed as body restless as I was. “I noticed that while she lay with her head on my thigh and tugged on my nipple with her beautiful Cupid bow mouth, she would rub her fingers over her own nipples, which were beginning to puff out nicely. When I asked her if it felt good to her to do that, she nodded enthusiastically and said that she did it a lot, and she knew that it must feel really good to me, too, and she really REALLY loved making her mom feel ‘specially good’. I guess it just went from there.”

“So it did go from there…” I let my voice trail off. “We saw how much Amy loves doing it, and how she opens her very sweet young body to you. I don’t remember nursing from my mother,” I added wistfully. “I imagine I did, but only as a baby… I did watch my older sister feed Juli, and I so remember the feeling it gave me, and I’ve often wondered…”

“Oh, Leslie, yessss. It did go on from there. I asked her if it felt good for her to touch any other part of her body, and she answered that she does it sometimes just like I do. How I ever thought I was hiding something from her, I’ll never know, but now my darling girl knows exactly what she is doing to her mother, and she knows how beautiful it is to be loved in return, loved and touched in every way.”

Anita smiled and turned her face towards mine, so that our foreheads rubbed, and then moved in enough for a lingering kiss. She took my far hand and lifted it to her chest, holding it beneath hers, and pressing it into the full soft flesh. “I saw how you watched them, Leslie… watched them both pulling on my nipples and tasting me. You want to taste it, don’t you, hon? I’ve not been on the hormones for some time now,” she added, “so I’m producing less and less. Now that Amy knows it is more about giving each other that very special woman pleasure, we don’t really need the by-product. But there is some for you, my wonderful new naughty friend, if you want.”

Anita was unbuttoning her blouse as she spoke, pulling it open, and deftly lifted her bra up and over her heavy, ready to be suckled tits. I nodded numbly, and scooted down onto the couch, on my back, thinking it must look just what Amy looked like to us just a week earlier. Anita leaned forward just enough to dangle her large, well-used dark nipple above my face, and my tongue snaked out, tentatively, washing over the tip. She shivered, hissed, and lowered it more as I did it again, circling this time, intending to tease a little, but wanting her to know that my actions were not just for me to sample her, but for her to feel all I could give her as well.

“Please, Leslie… yes… go ahead,” she hesitated, then continued as I circled her slick wet nipple, thick as my little finger, again. “Just feel it first if you want, like that, lover. It feels so good for you to do it like that.”  Her hand wandered to my top and slid underneath, finding my front hook and releasing it, then cupping my warm flesh as I teased her.

“But not too long,” she urged with a giggle. “I’m very ready, Leslie.”

With her need apparent in her soft voice, I opened my lips and took her nipple into my mouth, pulling it lightly, then further in, until the whole tip of her hanging tit was in my warm mouth. I suckled, and I heard her sharp intake of breath. I suckled again, and soon was rewarded with the taste of Anita’s sweet milk. It came as a bit of a surprise to me how just the act of doing it would be like a lightning bolt from my mouth, through her caressing fingertips to my belly, to my pussy. It seemed as though I could virtually feel a surge of wetness start down my inner channel, warming me there like the slow warmth of a small light bulb turning on inside.

“Let’s do this right, dear girl,” Anita cooed, and I released her enough for her to shed her blouse and bra, and wiggle her skirt up to her waist. I stripped my pullover top, letting my bra cups fall to the side, and wiggled my bottom until my skirt was bunched up as well. My head rested on her warm bare thigh, and I felt her fingers reach again to caress my tits when I licked and tickled and again captured her firm thick nipple.

“You’ll have to work at it a little, Leslie, to get very much now, but don’t worry… I’ll love every little nibble.”

The taste was amazingly wonderful to me… I guess it came from being a woman who always did savor the scents and tastes of intimacy, and the thought of how I had taught that attitude to Juli had led her to try it without hesitation. Before long Anita urged me further over, to her other nipple, and there I could feel her arm beneath my head, her hand firmly between her legs, fingers moving in a steady circular rhythm, and I slid my own hand under my thin nylon panties, matching her growing heat. The wet flow there greeted my fingers and immediately soothed the way for them to slide inside, curling, finding the sensitive spots, and then back out, isolating themselves on the tip of my love bud, back and forth, around it in circles, and then back and forth.

It seemed like long minutes went by, with only little animal sounds of encouragement coming from both of us. I mimicked the motion of my fingers on my clit with my tongue on Anita’s nipples, and she returned the favor with her saliva-coated fingers on my firmly raised and ready nipples… my mouth and her fingers moved in circles, suckles, flicks, circles, tugs, and scissors, growing more and more urgent until I felt her thighs quiver and her stomach clench with the inner spasms of her orgasm.

“Ohhhh god girl, harder… just a little… godddddddddddd.” Her voice was ragged, needy, her hips rolled, and her body shivered. Then she slumped, and I hurried my own touches until I felt the same beautiful explosion inside myself, hips bucking against my fingers, head pressed firmly against my full-bosomed lover.

We stayed motionless as our bodies came down, and long deep breaths escaped our lungs.

“Good?” she asked needlessly.

“Better than good,” I replied needlessly… it was all so clear to both of us. I twisted myself around to lie more flat on my back again, looking up into her eyes for confirmation. They glistened, and her face flushed with both the afterglow of our climax, and with a sparkle of something else…

“Look,” she said, nodding towards the sliding glass doors. “I think we have company.”

And there we were, me on my back, topless, with my hand under my panties, Anita with her bare breasts exposed to the world, her legs spread wide with her hand cupping her equally wet vulva. Peering in through the glass were two delightfully grinning faces.

Who knows how long Juli and Amy had been watching, but they stood whispering and giggling, an arm wrapped around each other’s bare waist, their tee shirts off, firm young girl tits rubbing back and forth against the glass.

“I guess it has been more of a playtime than we might have intended for them, hmmm?”

Or was it?

Chapter 6 is coming soon!

A Young Desert Rose, Chapter 1

  • Posted on February 19, 2017 at 1:55 pm

By Sunnybunny

The road wound in and around the dunes, little more than a black ribbon threading through white wrapping, utterly devoid of organic life, just miles and miles of rock and sand and sediment. In the distance a range of mountains danced in the lines of heat rising from the pavement.

The wind had transformed her thick head of long, dark hair into streamers, billowing out the back of the convertible. She depressed the accelerator, revving the engine and climbing the needle back into the upper seventies. The car lurched forward, bellowing out through the exhaust and racing through the sand canyons that flanked her on either side. The noise echoed endlessly all around but nothing stirred. There was nothing TO stir for miles still. In the barren wastes of the Nevada desert, it was easy to imagine she was the last woman on earth, totally free with nothing between herself and eternity but a stretch of highway.

She saw a battered road sign up ahead, spiked into the side of the road and long abandoned. It was eaten through with rusty holes but the intent was clear. There were no words left but this sign spoke in an international tongue. Two golden arches and a distance counter detailing how far away you were from the only fast food chain for days. After a few days’ drive and sleeping in the back, even the greasy concoctions that only barely passed as food in her book sounded pretty choice.

“A pit stop it is, then!” she thought out loud.

She lowered the visor at her brow and scrutinized the wrist watch wound over the mirror, calculating she would be there before the afternoon was gone. With any luck, she’d be able to find a good motel with basic Wi-Fi access but she would settle for a clean bed. She loved her Mustang, with its worn canvas drop top and seat belts that barely worked, but the bench seats were a pain to sleep across. That is, ‘sleep’ in its loosest sense. Mostly she just tossed and turned beneath her leather bomber, trying to get comfortable enough to snatch a few minutes before the sun rose and it became unbearably hot.

She flipped her shades down over her eyes. The occasional tree came next, little more than twigs at first and clusters of cacti before swelling to bolder and more prominent breeds.

The town itself was small but larger than she would have guessed. It seemed to spring up out of the sand as if dug out of the earth, making her think of King Solomon’s mines but she couldn’t say why.

She paused at a traffic light (the only one in town as it would turn out) and idled for a beat to take in her surroundings. Most of the buildings had long been shuttered and were little more than brick husks. The glass in most was smashed out, no doubt from bored kids with too much time and too many rocks to throw. The elements had done the rest, weathering the signs and advertising away until blank white triangles remained suspended along their sides and store fronts. What remained was a quiet diner tucked into a corner with a handful of late model cars parked out front. A gas station was across the street from that, shutters wide open with an old sedan cranked up high, all four wheels missing. There was nobody in sight.

More distressing, there was no sign of those telltale golden arches anywhere around. Not even a sign to point her in the right direction. She drummed her fingers over the wheel, weighing her directional options. It wasn’t like she was pressed for time. There were no other cars on the road and besides that, the traffic light wasn’t working. The diner seemed like the most immediate place to gather information and sate the gnawing hunger but through the haze she spied something that changed her mind mid-turn. She cut the wheel harder, staying on the road and nosing past the diner and crept up toward the large, grey MOTEL sign leaning precariously over the street. On a windier day, it might have been lost in the haze of sand.

She yanked the emergency brake up and climbed out, blinking in the sunlight, surprised to find the heat nowhere near as oppressive as she anticipated. It was still hot but not unbearably so. The double doors of the motel hung open, stopped by a couple of heavy chairs with a healthy pile of desert sand out like a doormat.

She stepped over it and into the gloom of the reception area, following the static-laced tune of some golden oldies to the front desk. a heavy-set man with thinning hair leaned back in a rocking chair, feet up on the counter and crossed at the ankle. They were hairy and bare, sun-tanned as the rest of him. He glanced up just then, meeting her gaze and it was hard to say whose expression bore more bewilderment. A heartbeat passed then another before either reacted.

He sat up so suddenly, as if the chair had suddenly goaded him with a Taser, that the back of the chair banged against the wall with a crash. She couldn’t help but jump in surprise. “Hi-hi!” he bellowed, too loudly. “Welcome! Please, come in!” he gestured with his hand as though he was offering a seat, but there was nowhere to be seated.

“Did you need a room?” He asked before shaking his head. She spied grey wisps trailing through his dark mat of hair and she upgraded his age calculations to the upper fifties. “Of course, you do! Why else would you come knocking!” He paused again, screwing his face up in afterthought. “’Less you need directions…? Do you need directions or a room? We get both in here but…not too often.” He blushed sheepishly, realizing he was talking too much but unable to help himself. She doubted he got many visitors one way or the other.

She smiled automatically, slipping right into her flirtatious role as if it were a favorite t-shirt. “It’s okay, really. I need a room, yea, for a couple of days maybe. Is that alright?”

He was nodding his head before her question was even asked. “Course it is! We got plenty of rooms with all the ane….enema…enamines!” He paused again, unsure of the word before clarifying, “We got your basic satellite TV, hot n cold running water, internet access.”

She waited a beat for him to continue before she realized that those were about it and more than she should have expected from the place. “That sounds great, thank you so much Mister….?”

“Walter,” he bowed. “Walter Gates.” He set his things down onto the desk (a dog-eared crossword dated sometime during the Reagan administration and pencil) and came around to shake her hand. “Can I get you to just sign in here?” He fished out a worn, laminated guest book and flipped open to the first page…the only page in the book. Inside were a handful of dates and signatures, the most recent being six or seven months back. “The rates are listed here,” he pointed out helpfully to the opposite page taped to the inside of the book. “Is it…just you?” He sounded hopeful.

“Just me,” she clarified with a nod, scribbling a few zigzagging designs that would pass for a signature. He spun the book around to study it, looking hesitant. “And you are…?”

“Freemantle,” she replied coolly. “Heather Freemantle.” Not her real name but it would do for now.

He fished a pair of keys from the wall and handed them over. They were worn, marked with a heavy brass ring bearing the numbers 01. “Need help with your bags?”

Something must have shown on her face because Walter faltered, offered a bemused smile. “I really don’t mind.”

Heather shook her head, offering a fresh smile that flashed her dazzling white teeth. “Thanks but I travel light, I can manage. You can help me one way though…”

She let the question hang in the air, baiting him to ask. “Anything!”

“Just where the heck AM I?”

He roared with laughter, slapping his beefy, spotted hand down onto the counter top. “Girlie, drove all this way, into the middle of nowhere and…” he waved the thought off. “Shouldn’t be surprised. Nobody comes here on purpose anymore. But this town here is Oasis. Oasis, Nevada. Allow me to be the first to say welcome! We don’t have much here, the world largely ignores us but we have hospitality. We have hospitality in spades!”

“I sure hope so…” She was referring more to the outside being oblivious to their existence rather than the latter but no need to tell HIM that…

“Just down the road there is the diner if you wanna bite to eat.” Just the diner, she thought. No name, just like the motel because it didn’t need one. “There is a filling station just down yonder ‘s well. General store down the way a-piece. Don’t reckon you’ll get lost here. You gotta try pretty hard to get lost here.” He roared with another fit of laughter.

“I plan to get very lost here,” she chuckled and left him, twirling the key around her index finger.

Outside the air felt a touch cooler, as if she had been inside for hours rather than minutes. She shrugged out of her jacket and slung it over one shoulder, winding her way back through the barren parking lot toward her convertible. the sun was beginning to nestle down amongst the water-color mountains for the evening and would be winking out in a while longer. Probably by the time she polished off her dinner it would be full dark and she could mosey back to her room in the cover of night without risking another encounter with Walter. The last thing she wanted was him to nose around her room while she was away, so instead of taking her bags inside right away, she left them latched inside her trunk, safe and sound. She doubted his intent would be malicious or perverse, but simple curiosity could make her stay here a whole lot more bothersome.

She was partway back to her car before Heather noticed she wasn’t alone. She had been so distracted ruminating on her situation that it took her aback to see someone, ANYone about. Already she was finding that it was easy to forget there were perhaps other people living here besides Walter in the eerie silence of Oasis.

The girl was pedaling her bicycle lazily around her car in a wide circle, standing on the pedals as she went, eyes fixated on the cherry-red body of the Mustang in a mix of admiration and curiosity. Her hair was shoulder length, the same color as the sand dunes piling haphazardly in the lot, lifting gently in the light breeze. She wore a checkered sundress that looked a half-size too large for her skinny frame, clinging to her body and shoulders. The hem was too short too, hitting her at mid-thigh rather than the more conservative knee-length the dress might have reached when it was new. Now it was just as worn and frayed as the town itself.

Heather watched her turn those circles around her car like a predatory shark with one hand shading her eyes for another moment before she called out. “If you’re thinking about rooting around in the seats for loose change, spare yourself the trouble. There isn’t any.”

The brakes on the bike wheezed, throttling to a stop so suddenly she nearly pitched over the handlebars. Her hair wiped around to face Heather, her hair tussling around her reddening cheeks. “I wasn’t gonna steal nothin’!” she cried. “I just like the car is all!”

“Uh huh…” Heather let the patronizing words of disbelief hang in the air between them. She folded her arms across her belly, smirking across the tarmac at the girl. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

The girl stepped off her bike in an almost defiant gesture, standing beside it with hands locked across the handlebars and bare feet planted. Her nose was wrinkled up in a hard frown that Heather couldn’t help but smile at. True, the little urchin was likely out to rob her, if she hadn’t already but she was sure making a fun show of playing the outraged victim at the wrong place at the wrong time.

“It’s true, look!” She plucked at her dress, tenting it out with her fingertips. “I don’t have no pockets anyhow! Where would I put it if I stole something?”

Heather shrugged noncommittally, strolling a few paces closer, wondering if the girl would back away. When she didn’t, Heather gave her a few brownie points. She was either brave or stupid and the woman couldn’t help but try and find out.

“You could have stuffed it down the front, into the band of your underwear maybe or just ridden off carrying it, one-handed.”

She came into the shadow of the road sign, at least shielded from the dazzling afternoon sun and got her first good look at the child. Her skin was bronzed the same dark shade as Walters, no doubt a mark of living in Oasis all their lives rather than being any relation, that would no doubt be shared by the entire small population. A dust of freckles played across her small, slightly upturned nose, above a full pair of bright red lips. For such a young thing, she was strikingly beautiful. Yes, that was the word that came to mind when looking at her. Not cute or lovely but beautiful, the kind of face that should be selling cereal or drinks to kids in television commercials, not ripping off peoples’ loose change.

“What’s…your name?” Heather asked, flustered by the girl and not quite understanding why. Her voice came out in a dry rush of air.

The girl seemed to be studying her in the same intense manner but her expression had softened somewhat. “Angie. Angie Lawrence. My daddy runs the service station up the road, there.” She pointed vaguely over her shoulder, eyes never leaving Heather’s. She spoke very matter-of-factly, not showing the slightest reservation at all about speaking with a total stranger. It occurred to Heather suddenly that the girl had likely never even MET an outsider before, likely knew everyone in town from the day she was born.

“What about you? You got a name?”

Heather faltered, frantically searching her mind for the name she had used at the motel. “Heather,” she replied perhaps too quickly. She had very nearly revealed her real name. “My name is Heather Freemantle.”

The girl squinted up at her suspiciously. “You don’t sound too sure,” she replied warily.

“You calling me a liar?” Heather arched a daring eyebrow.

Angie shrugged her thin shoulders, clearly not believing Heather but decided not to press the matter. At last she looked away, trailing her gaze casually back up the road toward the diner. “What’re you doin’ here Heather Freemantle?”

“It’s a free country, isn’t it?” Heather asked but didn’t like how harshly it came out and decided to try again. “I’m just passing through, might be around for a bit.”

Angie didn’t seem to notice, didn’t even seem to be paying attention. Heather appraised the girl anew, pegging her age somewhere in the preteen range by the way the dress hung about her. Her hips and bust were yet to fill out, the dress looking more like a circus tent around her body than any clothing. When she turned back around to face Heather, she noticed the neck line plunging dangerously low to show off a flat swatch of bare chest, barely covering the tops of the child’s nipples. The sight made Heather’s breath hitch.

If Angie noticed, she did not give any indication. She screwed her face up again at Angie, fixing her in a fresh gaze that was older than her years. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Heather Freemantle.” She climbed back about, swinging a slender leg over the seat, the color of polished bronze, and began to pedal away. She paused half way down the road and turned, craning her long, swan-like neck around to call back to Heather. In the stillness, she didn’t have to shout to be heard. “Maybe I thought about takin’ some.” It took Heather a moment to figure out the girl was talking about the car, loose change. “But I couldn’t. I ain’t no thief and it’s a really pretty car. I’m sorry for even thinkin’ about it.” She was speaking in the same matter of fact tone of a much older girl.

It took guts to admit that, Heather reasoned and couldn’t help but be a little taken with her right then and there. Plus, her accent was the cutest thing she had ever heard. “What would you have done with it, had you found any cash?”

Angie gave the question a quiet mulling over, casting her gaze to her foot, perched up on one of the pedals. “I would buy an ice cream at the shop,” she confessed at last.

Heather had no idea what she had expected as an answer but ice cream hadn’t been it. It doubled her over in a fit of laughter until she was wiping tears away from her eyes. “You got priorities, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” Angie retorted without any of the anger befitting a child of her age after being referred to as ‘kid’. “I’m almost eleven years old!”

“How about I treat you to that ice cream?” Heather asked before she could talk herself out of it.

“You mean it?” Angie asked, a look of surprise breaking the carefully constructed mask of an older child she worked so hard to maintain.

Heather raised a hand as if in surrender, tracing an X over her chest. “Cross my heart.”

For the first time, Angie seemed to show a bit of hesitation, gazing up and down the empty road around them, as if she were searching for something or, more likely, if anyone was watching them. “What about my bike?”

“We’ll toss it in back or leave it parked here. Won’t be gone long, right?”

“I guess not,” she reasoned aloud, sounding like she was trying to convince herself more than Heather. “It’s just right up the road there.”

Heather fished the set of car keys free from the back pocket of her jeans. “Climb on board, Kid. I think we’ve both earned ourselves a little treat.”

Continue on to Chapter 2

How My Niece Juli Came To Be My Vixen, Chapter 4

  • Posted on February 12, 2017 at 2:26 pm

By Openmindedwoman

It was birthday time again, and the lovely, sexy, and ever more insatiable Juli was turning 13. Her brother would turn 12 in another month, so for one month she would be, in her words, “Two years older than you….na na na na NA na!”

Actually, Justin handled her teasing about that and anything and everything else with laughter and smiles, ever since she had opened up her body and her naughty mouth so willingly… at least when she was around her Aunt Leslie. Juli was doing such a good job of keeping the secret around her clueless mother, but as time went by she also reported more and more conversations about sexual things with her classmates at school. Often I would have to correct some information, and her mom held a pretty tight rein on their computer use, so it wasn’t like they had access to a lot of erotic sites.

I was pleasantly surprised when Juli invited me to a birthday party at Amy’s house. There had been many more conversations about Amy, and I had met her a few times, briefly, and always with her mother around.

Amy was a slim girl, just a few months older than Juli. She had long straight blonde hair that she wore in a double braid that started in front of her ears and swept back to accompany a saucy pony tail. It seemed as though her mother was constantly attentive to it, even as we sat and talked casually, combing it with her fingers and fiddling with the loose strands around her ears. I remember hating it when my mother fussed over my hair, but Amy nearly purred, it seemed, and leaned into her mom contentedly.

Juli was keenly aware, the little fox, of intimate touches, and we would glance knowingly at each other from time to time when there were things that indicated a more than usual ‘closeness’ between Amy and her mom. Amy still had slim boyish hips, and like Juli, she had long slim legs that she always seemed to show off wearing short-shorts or a too short skirt. Her breasts were rounder than Juli’s cone-shaped pointy tits (she always said “tits” to me now, when referring to herself or me or her friends). Amy’s were also B cups, but seemed a little larger than Juli’s.

My heart beat faster and I felt a little inside tickle when I found out that bit of information during a conversation with her mom. All four of us were at my house after school one Friday afternoon, and the discussion got to things that girls at school were wearing and whether tank tops were OK or not, and how much skin should show, and Anita, Amy’s mom, simply volunteered that it had been a bit of a puzzle as Amy spurted rather suddenly from her barely A cup bra into needing a real B cup bra, and how her shape and sizing had required lots of attention.

It seemed like an opening, so I responded that I had enjoyed helping Juli with her transition as well, turning to wink at Juli, who recognized the half-truth in my comment right away. I added my appreciation of how delightful and lovely the two girls were and how terrific it was that they’re not shy about letting us in on all the things that are happening with them as they grow.

Amy giggled at that and turned her head to look up at her mom.

“See, Mom, I told you Juli talks with her Aunt Leslie about stuff like that.”

“Yes, honey,” Anita replied as the two sat on my living room couch, Anita at the end, and her sexy-looking daughter curled up next to her, under the wing of Anita’s left arm, with her head leaning against her mother’s full round breast. Amy’s short denim skirt was pulled up nearly to the top of her thighs, but she didn’t seem concerned about it, and she let her shoes plop onto the floor, making herself even more snuggly comfortable.

“Yes, you did tell me that Juli’s aunt is very open to anything a girl wants or needs to know about. So that’s true, is it, Leslie?”

My eyes wandered from Amy’s lovely exposed legs to her mother’s equally attractive legs, bare and showing nicely below the rather short skirt she was wearing. Her blouse was thin, pulled tight by the way she was sitting with her arm outstretched around her sweet daughter, and by the size of her full breasts. The top two buttons were undone, and the third straining, but she didn’t seem concerned.

Juli scrambled from the floor to join me on the loveseat just across from our visiting pair, and looked expectantly for my answer.

“Certainly, Anita,” I replied with a smile. “From the time Juli’s little puffy nipples started to pop and she began to notice how her body was changing, and that her nipples are mostly longer than the other girls at school…” I paused “…and when she started wondering about growing pussy hair, and the new bubbly feelings inside herself, we’ve talked about everything there is to talk about, I guess.”

Juli gasped a little at my language, snuggled up against me, and we waited for a reaction to my rather overt naughty use of words.

Anita smiled broadly, “It makes me feel safe with you, Leslie, to know you are so close and direct with Juli, just as I am with Amy. Her… ummm… tits have started to grow like mine did, and if she ends up like me, she will be a D cup and have lots to enjoy.”

Amy rolled onto her back with her head in her mother’s lap, not caring at all that her skirt had pulled up far enough to expose the pink cotton panties covering her loins. “Will I enjoy them as much as you do, Mom?” Amy giggled.

Anita let her hand drop to her daughter’s tummy, fingers always moving, caressing the bare skin there lightly.

“That’s a fair question,” I interrupted the momentary silence, trying to ease the pause in Anita’s mind, and urge this to go where my weeping pussy and pounding heart wanted it to. “If she is anything like Juli, she will enjoy her tits to the fullest, whether she is touching them herself, or if someone she loves is pleasing her.”

My arm wrapped over Juli’s shoulder and my hand brazenly fell to cup her firm left tit.  Juli smiled up at me and placed her hand over mine, pressing it further, moving it, rolling it.

“I love it when I do my own nipples, but I also love it sometimes when Aunt Leslie does them for me.” Juli’s tiny voice barely whispered this admission, but it was received without shock from the pair just across from us.

Anita’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I feel like I can risk telling you, Leslie… can I?”

As I nodded, she continued, “When I was nursing Amy as a baby, I discovered that the feeling was so intense… so very intense, that I had to masturbate as soon as I finished. In fact, there were times when I couldn’t wait to finish and did it while she fed. My nipples were always my downfall I guess… if I let someone get to them, they could get to the rest of me in short order.”

She laughed, blushed, and went on. “I guess you must think I’m pretty awful, but I couldn’t give it up, and after her stepdad left, I continued to nurse her, even until she was 5 years old and was becoming very aware of my body heat, my heartbeat, my orgasms while she lay in my lap, just like this.”

My fingers were active as I listened to Anita’s admission, and worked to unbutton Juli’s top. My little sexy minx helped, and we pulled it open, then unclasped the front hook on her bra, freeing her delightful 13-year-old firm cone-shaped tits with the spectacular nipples. My hand slid back to cup a breast, kneading it lightly, then fingertips sliding out to her nipple, tugging, urging it to expand.

Juli cooed and nuzzled against my left tit with her nose.

Amy had rolled her head a little towards her mother, and reached up, using her fingers to find the hard nipple nub that was pressing out against the thin fabric.

“No, not awful, Anita,” I said. “And I can tell that your darling girl has found it comforting, perhaps arousing to herself as well. In fact,  how long has it been since you stopped nursing her?”

Anita blushed further, and looked down at her beautiful daughter. “Is it okay, sweetheart? Can we tell?”

Amy nodded lightly, and giggled. “I told you they would be okay with anything, Mommy… I just knew it.”

“Show us,” I whispered softly.

“Only if you show too,” Anita replied.

I stood and stripped my top and bra, and sat again, letting my skirt slide fully up to my waist, aware of the feeling of thoroughly soaked panties against my pussy lips. Anita unbuttoned her blouse and leaned forward to shrug it off, reached back to unclasp her bra, and as she set it aside, her magnificent D cup tits swayed. Her nipples were thick and reddish brown, areolae the same color.

She wiggled her hips, sliding her short skirt upwards, exposing the ultra thin and already soaked through V of her tan thong panties. She left her knees open, inviting us to see her, and adding to her own lust by showing off.

She sat back again, eyes half closed, and cupped her full round left breast, offering it to her daughter. Amy eagerly took it into her mouth and began to suckle. I reached across with my right hand to cup my left tit, as I had done before with Juli, and offered it to her.

“Go ahead, little one. I don’t have anything but nipple for you to taste, but I think we are going to see something amazingly exciting for us.”

Juli cuddled under my arm, and I noticed that she had pulled her skirt up around her waist too, letting one of her hands drop between her legs as she licked my nipple, nibbled it, licked it, and watched.

Anita moaned a little as Amy worked harder, and we could see a little drip of milk slide over the youngster’s cheek. Anita deftly unbuttoned her daughter’s top and pulled her bra upwards, releasing the girl’s rounded firm tits for us to view. Amy rolled a little sideways so her mother could unclasp her bra, and sat up enough to shed her blouse and bra. When she lay back down, she lifted her hips and slid her panties off, kicking them to the floor, leaving just a strip of skirt cloth around her waist. She settled onto her back again, her head on her mother’s thigh, and lifted her mouth to the waiting nipple that hung with drops of sweet milk already flowing.

“She’s absolutely beautiful,” I said to Anita, whose loving gaze rested on her daughter’s face.

“Isn’t she,” came the soft reply. “And she has been soooo good, soooo understanding about helping her mother feel loved in so many ways. Yes, Leslie, we’ve never stopped nursing, and I think we both are addicted to our little sessions. I don’t give as much as I used to, but still… even so…” There were a few involuntary twitches in Anita’s stomach and thighs as the sounds of Amy’s suckling crossed the room.

Anita’s hand strayed again to Amy’s bare tummy, stroking it lightly, and then moved up to caress the firm young girl tits. Amy’s light brownish nipples seemed to respond to the touch, wrinkling, hardening. As she bent her left leg, raising it against the side of the couch, we could see her young teen pussy, with just the sparsest thin covering of brown hair above her slit.

Juli looked up at me, watching me watch them, and then lifted her own slim hips to slide her panties off.

“Don’t you think we should all show off a little, Aunt Leslie?” Juli giggled. My young supersexed niece, my leader in wanting to be seen, was demonstrating how forward she could be.

“Okay then,” I responded, and lifted my own bottom off the loveseat, sliding my panties down and dropping them to the floor. Anita spread her knees even wider, smiling at me, licking her lips. The fingers of her right hand went to her right side, scissors fingering her other nipple, and two white drops eased out, falling onto her lap.

“If Juli would like to taste…” Anita’s voice dropped off, but the invitation was clear.

I nodded assent to my sweet sexy girl, and she rose, stripping herself totally naked as she walked across. Anita slid herself to the center of the couch to make room, and Juli lay down, so that both naked young girls had their heads on her thighs, their feet at the ends of the couch. Anita leaned a little forward again, and Juli eagerly latched on to the woman’s turgid and leaking right nipple, suckling and mewing and feeding as if she had never known anything different.

“Ahhhhh… ahhhhhhh, yessssssss,” Anita’s low voice moaned and her head lay back, her chest thrust forward for the girls to feed.

“Aunt Leslie ……… omg it feels so good ……… it tastes sweet ……… it feels so naughty so beautiful naughty,” Juli mumbled, letting dribbles of Anita’s milk run down her cheek, and licking faster to consume it.

Anita’s hands dropped again to both girls’ tummies, then caressed their faces, their ribs, their firm young teen breasts, eyes returning to me as if for permission. I nodded, smiling, nodding at Juli particularly, then lifted my heels up onto the edge of the loveseat, spreading my legs even wider and parting my pussy lips with one hand.

Eyes on eyes, we watched each other… me using slick juice from my leaking pussy to coat the fingertips of my other hand, and slowly rolling my clit, arousing myself, arousing my newfound mommy partner lover as she explored her daughter and my niece.

Anita’s fingers eventually moved down across their bellies, and the girls instinctively spread their legs, opening themselves to the older woman’s touch. I could see her middle finger sliding up and down their bare slits, slipping in between the puffy labia, curling and probing, then slipping inside each one, moving in and out, dipping deeper.

I gasped and did the same with two of my fingers, sliding inside, curling, feeling the upper walls of my own cunt, finding the magic spot inside that I knew would bring the greatest pleasure. Anita’s eyes gleamed with devilish light as she brought each of her hands to her mouth, licking, tongue cleaning, bringing their teen girl taste into her mouth.

“It seems the only one of us not totally exposed is you, Anita,” I whispered, rising and crossing the room. I dropped to my knees in front of her, and she raised just slightly, allowing me to peel her almost-nothing thong down her legs, and then spread herself again, pushing to the front edge of the couch.  I could hear the girls’ suckling noises. I could hear their little mews as Anita’s fingers found their mark, I could sense their little hips rising in fucking motions against her hands, pushing for more pleasure from the older woman.

I lowered my mouth to Anita’s thighs, inhaling the incredibly strong and beautiful aroma of sex in high gear. My tongue slid along her thighs all the way to the top, and then I lifted up to mouth young Amy’s exposed tit, circling her nipple before sucking it. Then back down to Anita’s pussy, glistening with her desire. My tongue probed her darkish butterfly wing labia, one side, then the other, my mouth closing over them to pull each side apart, tongue slipping in between to gather the taste, feel the slickness, fill my senses with her scent. She shivered as my tongue moved, wide and flat from the bottom upwards, long hard licks, ending with a flick at her clit.

“Please… yesss… please… Leslie… oh, help me…”

My mouth closed over her vulva, tongue probing, then isolating her clit, sucking it in and lashing it with my tongue.

She went rigid, leg muscles straining, and I heard the wet squishing sounds of her fingers harder in the girls’ pussies. Then moans and cries from Juli as she began her orgasm, soon followed by the same from Amy.

Anita gasped for air as her orgasm hit, spasms rippling across her belly, and I had to use my hands to keep her thighs apart, spreading them up and out so I could drink all the flow she could give, and keep her going as long as possible.

“Ohhhhh… stop… no… yesssss… do it more… nooo… can’t… (gasp, uggghhhh) …please… godddddddddd waitttt…”

It seemed like minutes, but must have been less, that I finally let my mouth slide away from her beautiful woman folds, licking them, licking the outer lips, licking her thighs…

Quiet… quiet as we all relaxed, breathing softly, letting ourselves come down, holding each other, my head further in Anita’s lap, sideways, my hands on the teen girls’ chests, sensing their heartbeats, feeling their rhythms.

We were like that for some  time, feeling bare skin, coming down from the huge high, not daring to move, maybe not daring to even admit to each other what had just happened.

“Are you okay, Aunt Leslie?”

It was my amazingly darling sexually charged and NOT embarrassed niece, checking on whether I was okay.

“Ohh, yes, darling, and I hope you all are okay… okay with how we have come to know each other, and how we know we can trust each other, and I hope it won’t be the last time.”

“I knew it… I just knew it, Mommy,” Amy’s small voice echoed once again.

Anita’s eyes met mine, and she nodded. Her hand moved from between her daughter’s legs to comb back my hair, and rest on my cheek.

“It won’t be the last time, Leslie, I can tell.”

Continue on to Chapter 5

How My Niece Juli Came To Be My Vixen, Chapter 3

  • Posted on February 6, 2017 at 7:39 pm

By Openmindedwoman

It was remarkable how we came to enjoy each other, especially Juli and me, and how we would give each other sly glances when we were together with their mother or with their grandparents, or even when I was at their house and school friends were visiting. It was very different now between us, but they were always careful to be on their best behavior. It was clear that they understood that our special times together were not to be suggested or hinted at in any way on those occasions. But as time went by, the deliciously taboo nature of our behavior became even more addictive, both to me and especially I think to Juli.

She was nearing the end of her 12th year when her mother dropped her off at my house. She came bounding up the walk and I opened the front door, waving at Melissa and Justin as the car pulled out of the driveway. Juli slipped past me and I barely had the door closed before her t-shirt and bra were on the floor.

“Whoaaa young lady,” I grinned, “what if they aren’t really gone?”

“They will be,” she giggled. “They’re almost late for Justin’s baseball game, and Mom will stay, so we have about an hour and a half, and you were gonna teach me more about kissing, remember?”

I loosened the tie on my bathrobe as I wandered to the front window, just to check.  Indeed, they had gone, and I turned, slipping it off my shoulders and letting it slide under my naked body as I sat down on the couch. Juli’s shorts, panties, and flip flops soon joined her other clothes, and she approached me with a big smile.

“Think they’re still growing, Aunt Leslie?” she asked with a sly grin, cupping her just barely B cup tits with both hands, letting her overly long nipples show through between her fingers. She was still sporting just a thin crop of pussy hair, all well above her tender young lips, and the golden down shone in the light from the window. My heart beat faster as I took her hand and pulled her towards my lap, straddling my thighs, and stood her there facing me upright, naked, warm and full of erotic energy even beyond what I had imagined might happen. I had been a little afraid that she might feel remorse about the things we had talked about, the things we had done, or perhaps would develop much more of an attraction for others her own age, and her old aunt would disappear into the background.

Apparently not so.

I traced the outline of her face with two fingers on my right hand, resting my left hand on her hip. I moved my fingers to her nose, her cheek, her chin, and then upwards to her Cupid’s bow mouth. She opened her lips, and her tongue urged my fingers into her mouth, closing around them, active, tasting, sucking lightly, giving away the height of her desire to do whatever felt good to me. But it was kissing she wanted.

“That is such a good way to use your mouth and tongue, Juli,” I muttered. “The time will come soon that you will get some lessons in using that talented tongue of yours… on fingers, and many other parts of a girl’s body… if you think you would like that as well.”

“Mmmmm hmmmm,” she nodded, “of course I want all that, Aunt Leslie.”

“And you must already have figured out that using your tongue and lips openly is such a delicious part of kissing, haven’t you?” I teased, as I wrapped my left hand around her back and pressed her forward until we were nose to nose.

She nodded again, and I removed my fingers, moving my right hand to her firm sloping left tit, wiping her saliva onto its side, and using the back of my fingers to brush across her nipple, back and forth. My tongue snaked out to wash across her lips, left and right on her upper lip, then circling to her lower lip, back and forth.

“Do that to me, Juli, and then suck my lips, one at a time, lightly into your mouth.”

She let her tongue tentatively slide out against my lips, mimicking what I had done to her, then made a ‘smack’ kissing noise and pulled back.

“I felt a bunch of spit coming, so I had to swallow,” she said with a giggle.

“Welllllll, you don’t always have to swallow all of it, sweetheart,” I offered. “Using your mouth naturally makes us produce more juice, but some people think it feels really close and hot and loving to take some of it from each other. You need to learn that about whomever you kiss, but you can try a little and see what they think, and you can decide if you both like that, too. With me, darling, you can let it happen, because it makes me feel so very close to you, to taste it from your mouth like that.”

Her eyes were wide with understanding, and she leaned in again, sucking lightly on my upper lip, then my lower lip, running her tongue along the insides of them as I opened my mouth in an intimate French kiss. I answered her probing tongue with my own, and ran it across hers, closing my lips around it, sucking her tongue into my mouth, then opening my mouth again, tilting my head and kissing her deeply.

“See, baby? I cleaned it right off your tongue, didn’t I? And I loved how it tasted slippery and gooey and it was from you.”

She’s a natural, and imitated my movements completely. I knew she had seen enough kissing in movies and TV to understand what it was all about, but of course, doing it with another female, and doing it deeply and for real always takes a bit of exploring at first. But she sensed my openness, and when some of her saliva escaped, dropping onto her chin and mine, and onto my bare tits, I pulled back, then licked it from her chin with broad lapping movements.

“A little more, baby girl, give me a little more.”

She opened her mouth as it hovered above my slumped body, and let another load of her sweet girl saliva slide out. I eagerly licked it from her lips and chin again, swallowing for her to see.

“Now, not everyone likes that as much as your Aunt Leslie, sweetie,” I cooed, “and you might not either, but that’s one way that people can feel so very close and connected with each other, if it’s something that is arousing to you… if it makes your heart beat and your beautiful young girl pussy flow.”

“It feels waaay hot for you to take that from me, Aunt Leslie,” she returned softly, eyes never wavering from mine. “It makes me feel tumbly inside to do it like that.”

Juli had never been shy about all the new things we did, the words we used, and I rejoiced in how open she clearly was going to be about all of the things to come. “Soooo, me too,” she smiled, and leaned in for an open mouth kiss.

Our tongues wrestled, and I let the wetness from my mouth slide into hers. She sucked lightly, pulling it in, and then let it flow all back to me, mixed with her own, eagerly licking the excess from my chin and cheek. I was in heaven.

I felt her hips moving in a rhythm as we continued to kiss, and my left hand moved again to her young firm tits. No longer just little apples, they were more sloping now, with a beautiful cone shape, peaked with those amazing long nipples. I moved from left to right, nipple to nipple, then filling my palm with each one, squeezing and feeling their texture.

My right hand moved to her thighs, and she scooted a little closer, her feet still on the floor as I slid down. This spread her legs wider, enough for my hand to slip in between us and cup her smooth girl pussy. I could feel the sparse downy blonde hair that had begun to show on her mons, and I combed it, tugged it a moment, then palm up, I rubbed my hand forward and back against her soft puffy girl pussy. When I just held it still, she rocked her hips against me, her natural fucking motion serving to open her lips against my fingers until I was able to slide my middle finger inside her.

“Ohhhh, myyyy,” she mewed, pulling back to look at me. “You are such a naughty auntie, aren’t you?”

“Ohhhhh myyy,” I imitated her in return, “how naughty do you like your auntie to be, my young vixen?”

She leaned forward again, which pulled her hips back, and then slid up with her knees on the couch, legs spread wide over my thighs. Then she licked at my ear as she slid them forward. “It’s cool when it’s just you and me,” she whispered with a ragged breath, “even if I do get hot when somebody is watching.”

I worked my mouth around to her ear, her cheek, and her mouth as I continued to feel her hips move against my hand. My finger withdrew, and I inserted my thumb, the way I had when I masturbated my young fox for the first time, cupping my palm under her and letting my middle finger slide between her widely parted firm ass cheeks, finding her puckered star and caressing it.

She kissed me harder, breathing from our noses as we never broke our mouths away, saliva flowing and overflowing, dripping down onto my tits while we tried to lick it from each other’s mouths and cheeks. Little animal sounds came from her throat and I felt one of her hands move to my tits, feeling their shape, tugging my turgid nipples, cupping them to rub my nipples against her body with the slippery wetness that had coated them.

Then I felt her other hand move between us, her fingers finding her own clit, feeling where my thumb entered her, pushing one finger inside herself along with my digit, then back to her own little button. My middle finger caressed harder and she pulled away a second, eyes wide on mine.

“Go ahead, Aunt Lesie, go ahead, fuck my bottom too. I’ve been rubbing it when I fuck myself and it feels so good!”

Her eyes were glazed as she spoke and I could tell by the way she moved, the raspy tone of voice that she was on her high, lost to her body’s urges, and I slid my middle finger just one knuckle deep into her bottom hole.

“Mmmmmmmmmm… yesssssssss,” she managed, “goooood… uuhhhmmmm.”

It was like holding her in a grip, between my thumb in her pussy and my finger in her ass, pulling and pushing against her tender sensitive parts while she masturbated herself.

“Just like that darling… roll your girl clit for Auntie. I can feel you do it while I fuck you. I can feel your fingers on your clit, and on my hand and on my tits. I love you baby… I love how you kiss your auntie, how you feel my tits and how you fuck yourself on my hand. Go for it, baby… let it flow… whenever you feel like letting go, let it happen.”

Her body was quivering as she kissed me, murmuring her heat. The words rolled out of her… “Wet pussy, Auntie, wet fucking pussy for you, push it deeper god yes deeper more just like that god it feels so good fuck me all you can I love you watch us Amy watch my Aunt Leslie make me cum I want to cum for you to see yes harder goddddddd.”

Her muscular legs went taught and clamped as if she wanted to close them around my hand, and I felt the throbbing as the waves flowed inside her, from the walls of her young slick channel upwards into her lower belly, surging into all her parts and leaving her gasping for breath.

It was like holding a ball of trembling warm flesh, and she kissed me, openly letting her saliva flow, pushing it into my mouth as if she wanted to give me something of herself. I licked it and swallowed it and let it run down our faces and I sucked her tongue and then held her as she collapsed against me, chest to chest, her head on my shoulder, my arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back. Her arms were under mine and wrapped upwards around the backs of my shoulders, pulling herself as if to make us one person.

Carefully I pulled her forward, knees further up onto the couch, and cupped her tight bottom, pulling her forward until the wetness of her pussy rested on my stomach. She never stopped her hips… just aftershocks, maybe, but she just kept up little fucking motions, sliding her vulva against my stomach with little shaking quivers in her hips from time to time.

“Wow, young one,” I finally offered, leaning my head back to look at her and wiping the perspiration-filled hair from her eyes and forehead. “That was quite an explosion!”

“Ohhhh… Auntie… It was awesome, like, amazingly awesome. I never dreamed…”

“Hmmmm… well, you must have been dreaming something, just a little, darling girl. Tell me, who is Amy?”

Juli’s face turned a brighter shade of crimson and she bit her lower lip. “I’m sooo sorry, Aunt Leslie, really, I don’t know what I was thinking, why I said that.” She lowered her eyes.

I used a forefinger to tip her face back up, so that our eyes met as we talked.

“It’s okay, baby girl, really. Are we going to have secrets from each other now?”

I glanced at the clock on the wall. I didn’t want to take any chances, and we needed to leave some time to clean up and figure out what to say we had been doing, before her mom and brother returned.

She shook her head, and paused, then continued, “Okay… Amy is a friend at school. She’s my age and we’ve talked about lots of things. She already knows how to masturbate, according to what she says, but she won’t tell me much. It’s like she’s embarrassed about something. And I haven’t told her about us, Aunt Leslie, honest I haven’t. You know I would never…”

I put my finger to her lips, closing off her explanation. “I know you wouldn’t, sweetheart. But it’s okay to talk with her. It might be interesting to find out where she has learned whatever it is she knows.”

Juli continued, “Well I know that she and her mom are pretty close. Her stepdad left them, so they’re alone, and Amy told me that sometimes her mom gets lonely and so she sleeps in her mom’s room.”

I smiled broadly and cocked my head. “Hmmmm… sometimes Amy sleeps with her mom? That sounds like something worth exploring a little, maybe, do you think?”

“Omigod, Aunt Leslie,” came her surprised reply, “I mean… I never thought… it’s her MOM I’m talking about… you don’t think…?”

“There are lots of possibilities there, Juli. We’ll go slowly. But does she seem, wellllll… warm and interested in you as a friend, or… something more, do you think?”

Juli smiled a knowing smile. “You want to meet her, don’t you!”

It was my turn to blush a little, but I admitted it might be fun to see what her friend Amy is really thinking. “But only if it feels right to you, Juli,” I said earnestly. “You are my most very special girl, and you always will be.”

“I know,” she laughed, and leaned in for a hug. “And I would never be jealous. I have been having thoughts… about Amy watching me when I touch myself. I guess that’s why I said what I did. Is that awful?”

“Oh, no baby, not at all. Being watched can be a hugely erotic feeling. I remember how you said once that having Justin watch you was exciting. And it can be even better when it’s just us girls. But right now we need to wash up a little and have a sandwich before your mom gets back to pick you up. And keep talking with Amy. Talk with her about  who she is able to have ‘special conversations’ with. You can tell her that we have those conversations, if you want… just that much for now. Maybe that will make her feel more like telling you.”

We made a trip to the bathroom, and a warm washcloth did the trick… no sexy smells of girl or woman pussy coming from our skin.

“You’re the best, Aunt Leslie, omigod, yes the best,” she offered as she slipped on her panties and fastened her 28 B cup bra. I watched her lithe smooth body disappear behind her summer clothes, and it was all I could do to wait until later to replay all of it in my mind, lying on my back, legs spread wide, fingers deep inside myself, hearing her high-pitched orgasm voice over and over, and trying to imagine what Amy might be all about.

Continue on to Chapter 4

Remnants, Part Three

  • Posted on February 4, 2017 at 1:06 pm

By No One

It was late afternoon when the familiar cliff walls came into view. The long drive had been peppered with a thousand questions from Zee about the state of the world and all aspects of life. Rain did her best to answer, but in some cases, she was no more informed than the android girl.

“Well, there it is: Dead End,” Rain declared, indicating the settlement nestled where two tall cliffs met at a right angle. “‘Cause of the cliffs, see?” That was one reason, anyway — some said the lives of its citizens were also caught in a more metaphorical dead end. The town wasn’t perfect by any means, but it was decent enough in Rain’s estimation. She had seen worse in her travels.

“How many people live here?” Zee asked as they came closer.

“A couple thousand, maybe? It varies. People come, people go.”

They reached the wall of corrugated tin panels surrounding the town on the sides not covered by the cliffs. The head and shoulders of a young man popped up over the wall to take a look when he heard the noise of Rain’s bike.

“Yo, Rain,” he greeted them.

“Rock.” She nodded at him.

“Been gone a long time, love. Found anything good?”

“Might have. You know, this and that. Just really tired now, Rock. Mind opening the gate?”

“I dunno, have you reconsidered going out with me?” Rock asked, grinning, as he usually did.

“I dunno, have you reconsidered chopping off your manhood?” Rain shot back. Not an uncommon exchange between them.

The big guy laughed and disappeared from view.

“There can’t be that much to it anyway!” Rain shouted after him, and more laughter came from behind the wall. A few seconds later, there was the sound of rattling chains, then a section of the wall slid aside to let them through.

Zee raised inquisitive eyebrows, and Rain gave her a wink, then slowly drove through the opening.

“Hey, hold on,” Rock said when they met on the other side, brows furrowed. “Who’s that with you?”

“Just a kid who sneaked off. You should keep a better watch,” Rain said.

“Huh? How did you…?”

“Must be a hole in your wall, better give it a check.” Rain rode off, leaving a very confused Rock behind.

“Um, why did you lie to that man?” Zee asked after a moment.

“I think it’s better to keep your, uh, identity a secret for now, okay? Some people might… freak out a little.”

“Freak out?”

“Well, folks aren’t used to machine-people around here, so they might react a bit, um… unpredictably? It’s just safer this way, for now.“

“Hmm.” Zee didn’t sound convinced. “Lying is wrong, though.”

Rain suspected machines didn’t have the most nuanced views on morality. “Yeah, well, right and wrong are luxuries you sometimes can’t afford ‘round here. What’s right is to protect yourself. Just trust me on this until we figure things out, alright?”

“I trust you,” Zee said, holding Rain in a hug from behind. “What about that man, Rock, though? If he does not find a hole in the wall, will he not get suspicious?”

Rain chuckled. “Don’t worry about him. The thing about Rock is he’s about as dumb as his name. He’s an okay guy, and for sure one you’d want at your back in a fight, but not the type who’s gonna be solving any mysteries. If he even bothers checking the wall, it wouldn’t surprise me if he did find something to fix in that rickety thing, so it’s all good.”

“In a fight?” Zee repeated. “Are there often fights here?”

Rain had meant to reassure her, but now the girl had latched onto the wrong detail in her explanation and sounded worried. “Well, sometimes.” Only once or twice a day, she thought, but left unsaid. “But we’ll do our best to keep you out of those, okay?”

She felt Zee nod against her back as she slowly drove up the crowded main street, occasionally zigzagging around passersby who were not concerned with getting out of the way. They passed by buildings made of a mishmash of brick, stone, metal panels, and occasionally well-preserved wood, then Rain turned into one of the tiny side streets that crisscrossed the town and stopped the bike.

On the street corner were two teenage girls, begging for scraps. Not an uncommon scene around town, unfortunately; it was a tough world, and it tended to leave behind many orphans. Rain knew the pair by sight, but couldn’t remember their names. She didn’t envy then, it was a hard life on the streets. She had been in their place, once, so she knew that very well.

Fishing through her pack, she grabbed a coil of wire she had found earlier and tossed it to the girls. One of them, a redhead, probably pretty under that layer of dirt, caught it awkwardly. Both girls stared at the object with round eyes, then at Rain, apparently too shocked to say anything.

“Put it to good use,” Rain said, nodding at the two before continuing on into the narrow alley. If they made a decent trade for the wire and were thrifty enough, they might be able to eat for a week or more.

“Are they friends of yours?” Zee asked naively.

“Something like that,” Rain replied vaguely, not really having the stomach to get into explaining the living conditions for street orphans in Dead End at that moment. “Better continue on foot from here,” she added an instant later, getting off her bike, “these alleys weren’t really thought out for driving.” They weren’t really thought out at all, in fact; they just happened as people built makeshift houses next to one another.

Zee jumped off as well and followed as Rain started walking, pulling her bike along. The girl seemed to be holding up the hem of her long cloak to avoid getting it dirty on the dusty ground, exposing her bare feet.

“Oh um, I’ll try to find you some shoes soon. Oh, and clothes, I guess.” It occurred to Rain that she had not given much thought to what bringing the little android home would entail. It had seemed like the right thing to do, but now she was responsible for the girl — at least until she learned to get by on her own. It was a good thing that money shouldn’t be a problem for a while, once she had offloaded her recent acquisitions.

“I am fine. I don’t want to be any trouble,” Zee protested.

“It’s no bother. Anyway, we can’t have you walking around naked, huh?” Wouldn’t be a bad sight, though, Rain thought, a little guiltily.

After a few twists and turns, they made it to Rain’s home, a small but well-built brick building that she had taken over some years ago when its previous owner disappeared into the Waste. People around there weren’t terribly particular about property rights.

Next to it was a shoddy shed made of rusty metal panels that she had built to store her bike. “Decent enough town” or not, the vehicle would be gone by morning if she left it out in the open. She opened its padlocked door and dragged the bike inside, then carried her newfound loot into the house proper, with some help from Zee for the heavy power cell.

“Well, this is it,” Rain declared, indicating the modest two-room home. They stood in the living area, which contained an old couch, a table and some chairs, cupboards and a few storage containers, as well as a charcoal cookstove. Off to one side was Rain’s small bedroom. “It’s not much, I guess, but it serves well enough.” Piles of clothes lying here and there and some dirty cookware completed the decor. “Err, sorry about the mess,” she added self-consciously.

“Oh! I can clean it up for you!” Zee exclaimed with an enthusiasm that Rain very rarely felt for household chores.

“That’s okay, I’ll take care of it later,” Rain said, chuckling at the girl’s eagerness. “Is cleaning and the like what you’re normally, um, built to do?”

“I am meant to take care of all my owner’s requests. Cleaning, and cooking possibly, and um… well… I don’t really know, specifically. I’m supposed to download instructions based on the request, but…” Zee trailed off dispiritedly.

Rain had to wonder how far those requests could go, considering how the android seemed to be so very human-like down to the most intimate details. “Well, now you get to learn how to do stuff the hard way, no cheating.” She winked, hoping to cheer the girl up. “And you don’t have to take orders from anyone.”

Zee nodded uncertainly, but she seemed to be heartened a little. “You will teach me?”

“Sure.” Rain nodded, then let out a long yawn. “Maybe not just now, though. I feel like I could sleep for three days straight.”

“Oh! You should get some rest!”

“Yeah, I think I’ll do that if you don’t mind.” Now that she had successfully made it home, Rain suddenly felt very weary. “Are you tired? Or, err, do you even sleep?”

“I can enter a low power ‘standby’ mode to save energy when I have no task to accomplish.”

“Um, right. That sounds… practical, I guess?” Rain wasn’t sure what to make of that, it sounded like sleeping at will to her. “Well, you can stand by or whatever on the couch, if you want. Doesn’t look like much, but it’s pretty comfy.” She fetched an extra blanket from a trunk, then hesitated. “Oh, err, I guess you probably don’t get cold either, huh?”

Zee smiled and shook her head. “No, but that is thoughtful. Thank you, I will take it.” She grabbed the blanket and laid it on the couch, then casually shrugged out of her cloak and, now naked, began to carefully fold the garment.

Rain swallowed, her eyes unwittingly roaming over the android’s youthful-looking body, which seemed to capture the perfect moment between childhood and adolescence. Her proud nascent breasts, her perfectly hairless sex, her small pert butt, all made Rain wonder just how human the machine-girl could be.

Zee finished folding her clothing and deposited it on the armrest, then lay down on the couch under the blanket, breaking the spell she had held over Rain.

“Ahem. Um, right, good night then,” Rain mumbled, finally looking away guiltily now that it was too late. “Well, it’s not really night yet, but you know what I mean.”

“Good night and rest well,” Zee replied cheerfully, oblivious to Rain’s naughty thoughts about her.

Rain walked to her room, closed the door, then resisted the urge to simply collapse on her bed. Instead, she first made herself undress and perfunctorily clean up, using water from a bucket.

She had expected to fall asleep instantly when she finally slid under the covers, but found herself distracted by images of Zee’s alluring nude body floating in her mind. They refused to dissipate, no matter how hard she tried to focus on other things.

The android actually reminded Rain of the first girl she had ever been with, when she herself was around Zee’s age — or the age that Zee looked, anyway. The girl’s name had been Flower, a little blonde as pretty as her namesake. Though perhaps not quite matching Zee’s perfect beauty — after all, it’s hard to compete with someone artificially designed to be beautiful — she had definitely inflamed young Rain’s nascent desires, and they had made some very fun discoveries together.

Rain smiled as some memories came flooding back. They’d had to hide in a storage shed — even if they hadn’t been up to some mischief, the girl’s parents would certainly not have approved of their little darling frequenting a street rat like Rain. There, Flower had lifted up her shirt to show off her budding breasts with a mixture of shyness and pride, leaving Rain — still flat as a boy at the time — speechless with lustful wonder. It had been the most exciting moment of her young life at that point, and even today the thought sent a thrill through her. She’d had a thing for petite women ever since.

The reminiscence only served to turn her on further. One of her hands sneaked up to her inner thigh, where it paused as she hesitated. Rain eyed the door a moment, then shrugged to herself. She could be quiet, and she would surely sleep even better after this. Her hand continued its journey until it found its warm and increasingly wet destination between her legs, drawing a contented sigh from her lips.

The memory of a later day popped up in her mind. In that same storage shed, Flower had had her back against an oil drum, pants around her ankles — to this day, Rain was still vaguely aroused by the smell of oil. The girl had looked mighty uncertain about what was being proposed by Rain, who was kneeling in front of her. Rain had heard older girls talking about this, though, and with her lover’s sex inches from her face, it had seemed like the most natural thing in the world. Flower had quickly grown very enthusiastic about the idea after the first lick.

Remembering her first taste of that intimate nectar, Rain slipped two fingers into her own pussy, while pressing her palm against her clit. Just the thing to wind down after a hard day, she thought. Her mind wandered through the surprises and delights of early experiences, her arousal mounting as she pleasured herself, but with a hint of sad longing for Flower — who was now gone, her family having relocated to another settlement years ago.

After a moment, the scene playing in her head shifted, dreamlike, and Flower somehow transformed into Zee. Slightly bemused, but too turned on to really care, Rain rolled with the new situation, imagining introducing the little android to oral pleasures, wondering if that was even possible.

“Rain? Are you all right?” Zee’s very real voice suddenly cut through the fantasy.

Rain nearly jumped out of her skin and stared at the girl who had appeared in her doorway, still as beautifully naked as she had been in Rain’s imagination. “Err… yes?” she hazarded guiltily. She was fairly certain that she had been quiet.

“Your heart rate was rapidly increasing, your breathing growing irregular, and your body temperature getting warmer as well,” Zee explained. “I was worried something was wrong.”

“Oh. You can… hear and see all that?” Clearly, the machine-girl was full of surprises. “Through the door?”

“I am equipped with highly sensitive auditory and thermal sensors,” the android revealed matter-of-factly. “Detecting potential dangers, or family members who might be in difficulty, is a very important task.”

“Ah, um, right. That makes some sense, I guess,” Rain conceded. So much for any privacy. “Ahem, well, I’m fine. I was just, um… you know…” she trailed off, but Zee only looked at her curiously. No, of course she didn’t know. “Err, right. It’s just a thing people do to, um, feel good and relax.”

“Oh. Like meditation? Doctor Nakamura practiced meditation and told me about it.”

Rain laughed. “Um, no. Probably the opposite of that. Do you… know what having sex means?”

The girl seemed to think about it for a moment but eventually shook her head. “No. I have heard someone mention that before but… I was busy with some tests at the time and didn’t look it up.”

“Well, it’s, um… When two people like each other, they can, err, get together and, um… See, there are parts of the human body that can feel really good to touch, so… Well, people can have fun touching each other, er, in many ways… There are a lot of possibilities, really. And you can do it by yourself, but it’s not really called sex then.” Rain winced at her terrible explanation. She had not exactly been prepared to give an impromptu lesson in sex education.

Zee seemed intrigued and took a few steps into the room. “Oh, really? I wonder if I am capable of this as well. Can you teach me?” she asked, all innocence.

Rain swallowed hard, eyes glued to Zee’s nude figure. There was nothing at that moment that she desired more than to “teach” the girl, but still, it seemed questionable. Strictly speaking, Zee wasn’t really a kid, despite her appearance, but she was still rather childlike in many ways. While Rain had certainly no objections to young girls exploring their sexuality, as she had done herself, in this instance it was difficult to judge whether Zee’s interest was “real” or born of some sort of built-in eagerness to please. “Erm, well, it’s kind of an intimate thing…” she argued weakly.

“Oh. But you said we were friends and that you would teach me everything…” Zee said piteously.

The young girl looked so crestfallen that Rain immediately felt her resolve to do the “right thing,” such as it was, wavering. “It’s not that simple. The thing about sex is, um…“ she began, struggling to find an argument that Zee would understand. She was “too young”? That didn’t make much sense considering the android probably didn’t age in any meaningful way, and Rain couldn’t honestly claim that her youthful shape wasn’t very appealing. Sex should only be between lovers? Rain didn’t really believe that in the least; in fact, she had slept with girls she had known for a shorter time than Zee.

The proximity of the girl’s tempting body made it increasingly hard for Rain to remember why she was hesitating. If she was honest with herself, she had to admit she was dying to explore how intimately lifelike the android really was.

“Come here,” she gave in, voice thick with desire, patting a spot on the bed next to her.

Zee happily pattered over and climbed onto the bed.

Rain’s breath caught in her throat. Slowly, she reached out and caressed Zee’s cheek softly with the back of one finger. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

“Thank you.” Zee smiled brightly. “You are very pretty as well.”

“You think so?” Rain had to wonder again if androids were simply made to be polite and to return compliments.

Zee’s eyes roamed over Rain’s body, the bed sheets having slipped to her waist and uncovered her breasts, and nodded.

Rain yearned to push the girl down on the bed, kiss her passionately, run her hands all over her body, but restrained herself. Instead, she brought her face closer to Zee’s, and said, “I’m gonna kiss you now, okay?”

Zee lifted her eyebrows, looking a little surprised at the request. “Kiss? A-all right,” she agreed, more timid than she had been.

Rain closed her eyes and pressed her lips to the girl’s in a tender kiss. Her mouth was soft and warm. Zee remained motionless at first, then after a moment began to tentatively move her lips a little, following Rain’s lead.

“How’s that?” Rain murmured after the kiss was broken. She fervently hoped that Zee had enjoyed the experience, because it had only served to stoke her own arousal and push any doubts to the back of her mind.

“It felt… funny,” the girl said slowly, sounding unsure of her feelings.

“In a good way, or a bad way?”

“I think… I liked it,” Zee decided, nodding. “I have never felt anything like that before. Is this the kind of touching that you said felt good?”

Rain chuckled. “Well, that’s part of it, but it gets much better,” she promised.

“Oh? Like what?”

Rain smiled at the sweet, innocent girl, and couldn’t help giving her another quick kiss. “I’ll show you,” she said, then tossed the bed sheets aside. “Here, sit between my legs.”

Zee complied, sitting in the indicated spot, her back to Rain.

Rain wrapped her arms around the gorgeous girl, thrilled to be able to touch her. Her nipples, pressed against Zee’s back, hardened instantly. She deposited a trail of kisses from the android’s neck to her shoulder.

Zee giggled. “That tickles a little. But it’s nice.”

“Isn’t it?” Rain gently turned Zee’s face towards her, and kissed her again, with more passion this time. She savoured the velvety feel of the girl’s lips, so lifelike and so exciting. They exchanged smiles afterwards — Rain’s eager, Zee’s a little shy.

Rain pulled back a little, and ran one hand from the small of Zee’s back up to her neck, appreciating the contrast of her darker skin against the pale android’s. She noticed a kind of tattoo-like symbol on the girl’s right shoulder blade — the stamp of her makers, maybe. Tentatively, she traced the outline of the electronic socket in the back of Zee’s neck, the only outward evidence that she was not quite what she appeared. Rain could still scarcely believe it.

She let her hand drop back down, and instead slipped it around Zee’s waist to caress her belly, tracing circles around her belly button. Her skin was so soft. After a moment, her pulse quickening, Rain trailed her hand upwards until she could cup one of the young girl’s small breasts. She was pleased to hear Zee gasp a little in response, and even more to feel her nipple stiffen against her palm.

Clearly, there was no doubt now that Zee’s creators had designed their androids for at least the possibility that they be used for sexual purposes. Rain felt a little guilty that she was taking advantage of this “feature,” but was also glad that she would be able to give pleasure to her new friend.

She fully intended to do just that. Her other hand joined the first on Zee’s chest, caressing her breasts, teasing her little nipples. Meanwhile, her mouth was busy at the girl’s neck, kissing, licking, nuzzling. She could feel Zee’s body tensing up in her arms. “How does that feel?” she whispered in her ear.

“It feels… ah! Really good. Somehow. It’s very strange. I do not understand what’s… mmm… what’s happening to my body.” The machine-girl sounded quite confused, but her sexy little moans were irresistible to Rain.

“It’s okay. Just relax and enjoy it.” Rain nibbled gently on Zee’s earlobe, which she seemed to enjoy quite a bit, judging by the little gasps she let out.

Zee took the words to heart, lying back against Rain, and limply giving herself up to a lover’s touch. From time to time, her body quivered with pleasure, or a soft moan escaped her lips.

After a moment, Rain decided that Zee was ready for the next step. Slipping a hand down, she caressed up one leg, then down the other, teasing — mostly for her own amusement, she supposed, since the innocent android was probably oblivious to the concept of being teased. Moving on to Zee’s inner thigh, she slowly dragged her fingers up to the girl’s smooth sex, softly brushing against the sensitive flesh.

Rain smiled at the sharp intake of breath from Zee. “This is the best part,” she whispered in the girl’s ear before pushing a finger between her nether lips. She was thrilled — but not entirely surprised, at this point — to discover that the android could get wet with arousal, and she made good use of the slipperiness to rub, tease, and prod at the right places.

“Ah! Rain! This is…!” Zee sounded quite shocked by the sensation, and seemingly at a loss for words.

“I know,” Rain said, grinning. “Pretty great, isn’t it?” She rubbed up and down Zee’s slit, paying special attention to her clit, while her other hand gently pinched the girl’s nipples. Zee was moaning louder now, breathing harder.

Tentatively, Rain poked at the entrance to the girl’s vagina, gently slipping the tip of her middle finger in and, encountering no resistance, pushed until her whole finger was inside. She began slowly moving in and out, and brought her other hand down to play with Zee’s clit.

The android was panting hard now and, if it was accepted that she would react like a human, Rain judged that she was getting pretty close to a nice orgasm.

Intent to push the girl over the edge, Rain gradually accelerated her movements until Zee tensed up in her arms, then suddenly cried out. For long moments, the girl twitched and quivered, moaning loudly all the while, evidently experiencing quite the overwhelming climax.

“Looks like you enjoyed that,” Rain said knowingly after Zee had quieted down.

“I… I don’t know how to describe it. I had no idea it was possible to feel this way,” Zee said wonderingly, still panting a little.

Rain chuckled. “Yeah, I know just what you mean.” Now that she wasn’t otherwise preoccupied, a detail that had been nagging at her for the past few minutes came to the forefront in her mind. “Err, wait, do you… breathe?”

“Oh. I don’t actually require air to function, but I do simulate breathing in order to appear more lifelike,” Zee explained haltingly, still trying to catch her artificial breath. “I… don’t know why I’m breathing harder right now,” she added, confused.

“Don’t worry, that’s very lifelike too,” Rain said, laughing again. She disentangled herself from the girl, and let her lie back on the bed. Once again, her eyes drank in every detail of Zee’s perfect body, her lust not abated in the least. With her unusual pale blue hair fanned out around her, looking at Rain innocently, the machine-girl still managed to look as sweet and angelic as ever, despite still recovering from a very recent orgasm.

Rain let her hands roam in light caresses all over Zee’s soft skin, enjoying the erotic feel of the young girl’s body, feeding her own arousal. She bent down to kiss Zee’s mouth, softly to begin with, then, lust making her bolder, she pushed her tongue between the android’s lips.

Unsurprisingly, Zee didn’t seem to know what to make of that intrusion at first, but after some prodding, she opened her mouth a little to welcome Rain’s tongue. She didn’t initially respond while Rain nudged and teased with her tongue, but after a moment she appeared to grasp the idea and began to answer in kind. Their tongues danced for a long while, Zee gradually getting more confident and skillful as she received a crash course in making out.

“Mmm,” Rain let out as the kiss finally ended. She was finding it was quite the turn on to teach the innocent android the ways of pleasure.

“I didn’t know tongues could be used… this way,” Zee said, sounding a little surprised. “It was nice.”

“Heh, there are a lot of fun ways to use tongues,” Rain assured her, imagining some at that very moment and feeling a warm flush between her legs.

“Oh? Like what else?” the girl asked with her usual naive curiosity.

Rain grinned. “I’ll show you.”

She gave Zee another quick kiss, then moved on to her ear, teasing the lobe with her tongue until the girl gave a little shiver. Smiling, Rain then traced a wet trail down Zee’s neck and onto her chest. She kissed and licked her way around the perfect little breasts, avoiding the nipples at first but slowly spiraling in until she could take one stiff nub between her lips, rapidly flicking her tongue over it and drawing a cute little moan from Zee.

“How does that feel?” Rain asked huskily.

“It feels wonderful,” Zee said in a whimper.

Rain took her time kissing and fondling, teasing and licking every inch of those small tits that excited her so much, even very gently biting the hard nipples. All the while, Zee’s soft moans were a delight to her ears.

She felt like she could have kept going like this for a very long time, but was also eager to get her mouth on another prize. Reluctantly leaving Zee’s breasts behind, she licked her way down across the girl’s ribs and onto her stomach, where she paused to tease and tickle her cute belly button with her tongue.

Looking up, she saw that Zee was watching her progress curiously, perhaps guessing her final destination. Rain winked and observed the android’s expression as her tongue continued on its way down. She was pleased to see the girl gasp, her mouth open in an O of surprise, as the tongue met her perfect hairless sex.

Rain relished the feel of the little android’s pussy under her mouth; it was very much like a real girl’s. Though it didn’t really have any distinct taste or smell, to Rain’s slight disappointment, it was still a joy to explore its soft wet folds.

She kept eye contact with Zee throughout, and it was quite the erotic thrill to watch pleasure wash across the girl’s face as Rain lapped at her pussy and nudged the sensitive bits with her tongue.

After a moment, she couldn’t resist slipping a hand down to her own dripping sex to give herself some satisfaction as well. She slowly worked a finger in and out, not really actively seeking release just yet, but teasing herself with a taste of the pleasure she was giving her partner. Her muffled moans joined Zee’s little mewling cries.

After a moment, she felt Zee’s hips begin to push back against her mouth. She smiled inwardly; human or not, the girl instinctively sought more pleasure. Rain was only too happy to give her what she wanted. She concentrated her energy on Zee’s little clit, licking and gently sucking on it.

Rain noticed that one of Zee’s hands was now playing with her small chest, teasing her nipples, and she wondered if the girl was doing it knowingly or purely by instinct. In any case, her cries were becoming increasingly urgent, and Rain knew she would soon reach her second orgasm of the day — her second orgasm ever, in fact.

Intensifying her efforts, she once again pushed the girl over the edge. Zee let out little high-pitched cries as she came, and clamped her thighs around Rain’s head. This only served to further encourage Rain, who put all her energy into letting Zee ride the orgasm for as long as she could.

Finally, when the girl had quieted some, Rain moved up to lie beside her. She held the panting android in her arms while she slowly caught her breath and recovered from the intense pleasure. Rain was still as aroused as ever, and eager to get some relief as well, but she forced herself to be patient and not rush things.

“Is this what friends do together?” Zee asked after some time.

Rain laughed. “Err, not generally, I don’t think. Maybe some very close friends.” She’d had a few friends like that, after all.

Zee turned to her with a bright smile, apparently quite happy that they could be considered close friends, then something seemed to occur to her. “Oh, I should um… Would you like me to do it for you too?”

“I think I’d like that a lot,” Rain understated. She had been desperately hoping that the girl would say something like that. “If you don’t mind,” she added.

Zee nodded and sat up. She looked over Rain’s body, hesitating, looking uncertain of where to begin.

Rain smiled and rose up as well. She pressed her lips to Zee’s, and soon slipped her tongue into the girl’s mouth, letting her pent-up desire flow into a passionate kiss. As their tongues danced, she gently took Zee’s hand and guided it between her own legs. She definitely was not in the mood for slow foreplay. She moaned into Zee’s mouth as the machine-girl’s fingers tentatively slid between the lips of her sex.

“Ah! Fuck!” she gasped when Zee brushed her clit.

The android immediately pulled away. “Oh! Did I do it wrong? You said a bad word…”

“No, no, you’re doing great,” Rain reassured her, chuckling. “People sometimes say ‘bad’ words when they’re, you know, really excited. It’s fine.” She spread her legs wide to give Zee a good look. “See, the little nub here is called the clit. It’s very sensitive and it feels amazing when you touch it.”

Zee smiled. “Yes, I remember how it felt.” Gently, her fingers already slick with Rain’s arousal, she resumed rubbing her clit.

“Mmm, yes,” Rain purred. She was finding the whole situation extremely erotic. The fact that she was somehow having sex with a living machine, Zee’s charming innocence, and of course her delicious young body, everything was turning her on to an unbelievable degree.

Despite the girl’s lack of experience, Rain had no doubt that Zee would be able to bring her to a swift orgasm. She was a little torn between wanting the experience to last, and the burning need for release that had been building up since she began touching herself earlier. Deciding that a quick climax was perfectly fine — they could always do it all over again — she abandoned herself to Zee’s touch.

Just as she had aptly described earlier, the feel of the girl’s fingers on her clit was amazing. Her hips pushed back instinctively, and Zee seemed to grasp the message, pressing down harder on the sensitive little button. Rain screwed her eyes shut in pleasure.

She jumped a moment later when she felt Zee’s other hand join up with the first, and slowly slide a finger into her soaking sex. “Gods, yes!” she moaned. She was feeling the familiar, blissful pressure building up inside her as Zee’s finger pumped in and out of her pussy, generously aided by Rain’s thrashing hips.

“Curl your finger up a little… Ah! Yes, just like that!” Rain’s mind exploded from the combined assault on her clit and her secret spot. She screamed out loudly as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her body until her brain couldn’t process anything but pure pleasure.

“Thank you,” she whispered after a long moment, when her consciousness slowly returned and she couldn’t endure any more. Through half-closed eyelids, she saw Zee smile sweetly at her, seemingly proud of herself.

Rain pulled the girl to her and gave her a soft kiss. Her mind was hazy with the afterglow, and thoughts of continuing their carnal activities quickly fled away as the intense weariness of the long day came rushing back with a vengeance. Instead, she snuggled up against her new friend — and lover, she supposed — quickly falling into a deep sleep.

 The End (for now)

The End of August, Part Two

  • Posted on February 2, 2017 at 5:13 pm

By Jane Doe

It’s hot, too hot to sleep. That’s my first thought as I slowly drift upwards through the layers of consciousness. I’m sweating, even though I’m naked aside from the sheet. Why am I sleeping naked? It smells like something, musky and strange, not a smell I’m used to. I reach out across the bed and for some reason I’m expecting to find something there, but there’s nothing but empty space.

My eyes slowly open to the light of morning and my gaze drifts across the room to my desk. Clean and neat, like I always keep it. A slight movement catches my eye and my eyes are drawn to Sara as she sits at her desk. The sight of her hits me like a punch in the chest and the memories of last night flood my brain. How can she be so beautiful? The question tears at my heart, making me feel like I’m going to choke on the lump rising in my throat. Her dark hair is spilling down her back, the soft yellow morning light lending a bronze cast to her skin. She’s sitting there motionless with her laptop in front of her, through the slats in the back of her chair I can see the curve of her back, a light sheen of sweat making her contours glisten. Now I know what I was expecting to find beside me… her scent is still on my pillows and sheets, the sight of her sitting there naked, even if I’m not seeing… I feel like I’m going crazy.

I’m up and out of the room, wrapped in my bathrobe and carrying my little basket of toiletries down to the bathroom. The water is almost scalding hot as it rains down on me, and I let it flow over me at first, just standing there. Then I start scrubbing. I have to get her scent off me. Out of my hair, off of my skin. What the fuck is wrong with her? What was she thinking? That I would like it? I scrub until my skin is raw. I think I’ve washed my hair three times, but I still don’t feel clean. I want nothing more than to get the feel of her off of me, but it’s like her hands are still there. Her hands and her lips, moving over my skin… I shudder with the memory of it, leaning back against the cold wall of the shower. What’s wrong with her? What’s wrong with me? Fuck this, she’s going to get a piece of my mind.

I climb out of the shower, wrap myself in my bath robe and storm down the hallway, ready to let her know what I think of her sick little perversions. I throw open our door, tirade half formed in the throat, but she’s gone. NO! She can’t do this to me and then just walk out… hide from the consequences of her actions like she always does. She can’t do this. What was it to her? Just another fuck, to be ditched in the morning? I wouldn’t doubt it knowing her.

Trembling with rage I slam the door shut behind me. Tears well up in my eyes but I don’t know why. I slide down, back against the door, heart twisting in my chest; the pain I feel punishing me for my own impotence. I hope it was worth it for her. I’m going to make her life a living hell. Just like she’s been doing to me.

I can’t do anything but cry and curse her until I notice the time. Hell… Now she’s made me late for class too. I throw on my uniform, try to hide the effects of my crying with makeup and get to class as quickly as possible. She’ll just have to wait. God, I hate her.

*****

It’s been an awful day, class after class, long and dull, and even when I see Sara I have to keep my rage bottled up. I don’t need to be the one expelled. Even with that in mind, every time I see her in the halls, everything boils up into my throat and I have to choke it back, as though it were a vile conglomeration of bodily fluids that seeped into my stomach and need to be expelled. Every time I see her my mind’s eye opens, showing me snapshots of what we did, things I wish I could forget.

For her part, she’s still Sara. As though nothing had happened. The same blasé look; the same slow, dignified gait; the same disinterested stare and aloof attitude. Am I nothing to her? Does she just not give a damn about any of it? When I think these things I feel like I’m going to cry, despair clutching at my heart and tears threatening to well up in my eyes.

But why does it matter? She’s a freak, a pervert and a bitch. I know how she uses people and then drops them. She’s just like Mom, and I hate them both.

Finally class ends and I find myself out in the courtyard, so lost in my own thoughts I was unaware I had made it so far. Standing in the bright sunlight, I cast my eyes about for an anchor to pull me out of my disorientation. As if God felt my need, the best anchor possible comes walking through the gate. I grin like a goon and run to meet Mark as he saunters on in, catching me in his arms easily. Troubles momentarily forgotten I plant a kiss on his lips and soon we’re surrounded by friends and everything seems normal. Thank the Lord for small favors.

With Mark’s arm around me and gossip being passed around our little circle I don’t even notice her until I catch my boyfriend’s gaze wandering past me. Of course he would notice her, right beside me, listening to my friends chatter with that passive look on her face and smug gleam in her eyes. Fury and outrage swell and threaten to boil over as she gives me a faint smile. How dare she just wander in and disrupt my world like this? I settle in against Mark’s side even closer, sliding an arm around his waist possessively and I see her smile falter then fade. It’s my turn to smile. She doesn’t like that, does she? Every bit of attention I lavish on him seems to sour her mood a bit more. Nuzzling his shoulder, playing with his hair, kissing his cheek; every little move bringing another crystal of ice into her eyes. Driving her farther back behind her pretentious façade. Does she think she has some kind of right to me? That she’s laid some sort of claim? I think not.

When I can see the fury simmering in her, a mirror to my own, I pull away from Mark just a bit, lacing my fingers with his as his arm drops from my shoulder. I give him a sly smile and a wink, excusing us from the gabbing circle of girls to… take a little walk. The girls get the idea and our departure is accompanied by giggles and knowing glances. Sara’s eyes are locked on Mark… he might think she looks interested. But I know her better than that, the only interest she has in him is possibly to castrate him at this point. Her anger is like a sweet balm to my mind and heart, and I feel lighthearted and unburdened as we wander the grounds, searching for a bit of privacy.

*****

I’ve avoided it as long as I can. Mark had to leave in time to get back to his school for dinner, though the making out in the meantime had been an escape. I went to dinner, studied, hung out in Charlotte’s room, talking about guys, anything I could think of to stay out of my room, stay away from her.

I sigh, staring up at the dormitory, dreading what waits inside. I guess I have to bite the bullet eventually, but as I pass into the building my feet feel like lead and I have to steel myself for the long slow climb up the stairs. I feel like I’m walking to the chopping block, the executioner waiting with his razor sharp axe. But why? It’s my room too. Why should she have this power over me, to make me feel like I can’t even return to my room?

My pace quickens and by the time I reach our door I’m almost running. I open the door forcefully and nearly slam it behind me as I enter. She doesn’t even look up. I stare at her with burning defiance until she meets my gaze. She’s lying on her bed, stretched out on her stomach with books open in front of her, maybe doing homework, maybe just doodling as she reads.

Her look is cold and closed. Distant, uncaring, the very essence of my dear sister. Our eyes lock and I will her to acknowledge my defiance, my independence, the fact that I will not be a slave to her whims and desires.

I should’ve known better. Once again I’m left with twisting frustration in my gut and embarrassment rising to my cheeks as she goes back to her books, her look dismissing me as an overemotional, overdramatic child. How does she do this to me? She doesn’t even have to speak to make me feel like this, as though I wasn’t even worth more than a moment of her time. To make me feel so ashamed of what I do, of how I feel. As if I were the unreasonable one.

Suddenly I feel like crying, my frustration jumping from my stomach to create a knot in my throat and make my eyes burn with shame.

Somehow I hold it in, clamping down with all my strength and willing myself to not let her see my vulnerability. So I simply slide into my bed quietly, doing all I can to maintain control. I lay there, staring up at the bunk above me where my sister, my twin, lies, and I can almost feel her disdain drip down from above.

*****

All is silent until lights out. I watch her as she climbs down, putting away her books and then turning off the lights, only changing into her pajamas in the darkness. My eyes haven’t adjusted enough to be able to see anything other than her vague form across the room by her dresser, and I have to ask myself if I really want to see more. She wears what she always wears, a white button down shirt and a pair of underwear. I don’t have to see detail to know that.

To my surprise instead of climbing back up onto her bunk she slides into mine, lying on her side, facing me. I don’t quite know what to think, but I don’t trust this one bit. We stare at one another in silence for a long while. As my eyes adjust I can see her, faintly illuminated by the feeble light of the moon outside our window. Why is her face always so calm, her eyes so impenetrable? It’s times like this I hate the most. At times like this not even I can read her. It makes me want to lash out, hurt her, get her angry, at least then I know where I stand.

“Why did you do that?” Her voice is soft but clear, utterly devoid of any feeling. I have to ponder a moment before answering.

“Why did I do what?” Searching her eyes I find nothing, they seem as flat and empty as her voice. It scares me in some fashion, having her look at me like this, talk to me like this. It feels unnatural, and then it dawns on me… this is how she talks to Mom and Dad. The irrepressible urge to do something, anything, to get her back to normal wells up. She can’t do this to me, she can’t look at me like she does them, no, no, NO!

She rolls onto her back as though she’ll get up, but I can’t let her. I can’t let her leave me like this. I can’t be like them, I can’t! I slide my arm over her waist and move so I’m lying half on top of her, my chest on hers and my chin resting lightly just below her collarbone. She doesn’t resist me, she isn’t reacting at all. Complete indifference. This I fear above any other response at all. I can feel the tears I held back springing to my eyes, threatening to spill over as my heart lurches in my chest.

“No. I won’t let you leave.” It’s all I can think to say. Even if it doesn’t make that much sense. But she wouldn’t just be climbing up to her bunk. There’s an air of finality in the room, clinging to us, cradling our words and lending our tiniest movements a staggering weight.

“Why not? You already left me.” And in my mind’s eye I see the stare she gave Mark. I see the smile she gave me, I see the warmth in her eyes through the day that I willed myself not to see at the time. And my tears make good on their threat, spilling out and down my cheeks, as what I’ve done staggers me. I sag against her; laying my cheek on her chest I let my tears fall. Were I standing I would’ve sank to my knees.

I can’t even speak. Insidious weakness and revulsion wash over me, turning my silent tears slowly into wracking sobs, curling in against her. My body and soul beg her forgiveness, even if my voice cannot. I feel her arms slowly slide around me as I cry, eventually cradling me against her and her fingers gently sliding through my hair. Slowly my sobs fade, leaving me exhausted and depressed. I do my best to find my voice, though all I can manage to produce is a ragged whisper.

“I’m sorry, Sara. I’m sorry.” I don’t know what else I can say. I can’t deny it. I didn’t just leave her. I ran screaming from her. I still don’t know what I think about what we did… maybe she is sick. Maybe she’s totally fucked in the head, but I can’t be like them. I can’t just ignore it and lock her out, leave her in the cold, alone. We may hate each other sometimes, but we’ve always had each other to hate, and to join in hating our parents. There’s nothing worse than nothing.

She gently cups my chin and tilts my head up to look at her. I can see her face plainly now, her lovely face, delicate features normally given strength by her confidence and unbreakable will, sad and tired here in the darkness of our room. Her eyes, her eyes are what pain me the most. They’re not only sad, but so damn lonely. A loneliness I know all too well. It’s heartbreaking to see so much of myself in her, and briefly I hate her for letting me see it.

“Does he tell you he loves you?” Her shell is cracking, her walls crumbling down. This has never happened before, not in all the time we’ve been together; never once in our shared lives has Sara lost it. I do all the time, but never her. It scares the hell out of me.

“Of course he does.” He told me when we left school last year. He’s been telling me since we came back. Of course he tells me that; he wants in my pants.

“Why do they always lie to us? Why does everyone lie…” Her voice is barely a whisper, and I can see the wetness in her ice blue eyes. She’s breaking, and I have no idea what to do. She’s not supposed to, she’s never supposed to, but what right do I have to expect that from her? I do nothing but try to break her. I try to break her, and when she crumbles I hate her for being so much like me. Is it really her I hate? I feel so lost, but as a tear slides down her porcelain cheek I know I might be lost, but I’m not alone. And I won’t let her feel alone either.

With trembling hands I cup her face, wiping her tears away, my eyes searching for hers until she allows them to meet. I can’t say anything to what I see in her eyes, and I can’t do anything but will her to see my response in my own. I want to tell her it will be okay. This time I’ll be strong for her, but it won’t do any good unless she can see it, unless she can feel it, without words, without lies. Her eyes have never told me anything untrue, whenever I really looked. Why haven’t I looked more often? Why wasn’t I willing to see what’s been right in front of me all along? Maybe I had to break her to get to this point. I don’t know, but I wish I hadn’t.

I can feel her body trembling under mine, I can feel the tremors of her loneliness and sadness taking over. Was it me that hurt her so badly, or did I just strike the final blow? I prop myself up on one elbow, and looking down at her I know I have to be true to her, to myself, to the promise my eyes made. I can’t stand seeing her like this. I think of her disdain for our parents when they forgot birthdays and school plays, her condemnation of their sometimes unthinking cruelty. How she always stood strong for me when I needed it, and how our strength may have been drawn from our hatred, but for the first time I can see it was drawn from being together.

With all this in my mind and my heart I am steady and I am strong, if only for her. Leaning in my lips catch hers, ever so softly, for once encouraging her with love. I’ve had enough hate for one life. I can feel her crying begin in earnest as I kiss her, and I let her tears fall. Sometimes it’s okay to cry.

I hold her close and kiss her lips then her cheeks and her chin and her eyelids, growing more ardent and adoring as I do so. So maybe I’m pretty sick too. She trembles like a leaf and all I can do is kiss her, endlessly kiss her, finally parting her lips with my tongue and acknowledging her as more than just my sister.

Last night she was in charge. She did as she wished and gave everything to me… now it’s my turn. I kiss her deeply, trying to suck the pain from her soul, to let her know I’m willing to bear the burden with her, and as I do so I begin slowly unbuttoning her nightshirt, exposing the bare flesh of the valley between her breasts, down over her stomach to her navel, slowly pushing away the thin cloth that is her only remaining defense, the only thing keeping me from having her completely and totally vulnerable in every way.

I shift up on top of her, kissing her deeply, then begin a slow move downwards, over her chin and along her throat, feeling almost drunk with the taste and smell of her skin. I dive into the hollow of her throat, sucking and nibbling at every curve and hollow, her gasps and soft moans like music to my ears. My hands travel down over her sides as though they had never known the feeling of another body before, seeking to know and glorify her body in every way possible, to elicit every last ounce of pleasure for her and myself.

I spread her shirt farther, exposing her perfect breasts as my mouth works down between them, and I sit up for a moment, leaning back to gaze down upon her prone form, her skin so pale it almost seems to glow in the dimly diffused moonlight. I let my fingers wander back up her sides, slowly cupping the soft beautiful orbs that are her breasts, each pale globe accentuated by a dark nipple, contrast in tone, heightened by the lack of true illumination. Her eyes say everything I need to know; they make a wordless pledge of not only her body, but her heart and soul as well. In this moment I know I love her, perhaps more than I should. But in knowing that, I feel complete. And I know that she is the only one that can make me feel this way. My twin, my other half. I think we understand that now.

Smiling gently I lean down to take her left nipple into my mouth, first sucking and then lightly nibbling, flicking my tongue over its quickly stiffening tip. I feel her moan reverberating through her chest more than I hear it, and I quickly switch to the right nipple, lavishing attention on each in turn. The smoothness of her flesh and softness of her skin is a marvel to me, a true wonder to be explored and worshiped.

I’m far from satisfied with just her nipples, though, and my mouth greedily wanders around them, covering each breast in turn and moves slowly outward from them, around the supple sides and down to the barest beginnings of their swelling from her chest, and then down over her ribs and the flat expanse of her stomach. Her navel draws me back to her midline and I nibble and lick in and around it, adoring the feel of her hands in my hair.

I caress the flare of her hips, gently gripping and stroking them before hooking my fingers into the waistband of her panties, slowly dragging them down to expose yet more of her, and my lips and tongue soon follow my fingers. She squirms and writhes as I traverse the lines of her hips and slide down over her thighs, dragging her panties farther down as my mouth requires access. I can feel the heat of her body rising, her hips lifting to ease the removal of her underwear, granting me a glimpse of her neatly trimmed mound and allowing her scent to permeate my senses. And my god, she smells like heaven.

I let my kisses wander between her navel and the beginnings of her neat patch as I slide a hand up her inner thigh, marveling at the warmth I can sense at her core. It takes a feat of willpower to keep from ducking my head between her thighs. Instead I let my fingers trail ever so slowly upwards, finally coming into contact with her slick, hot center after what seems like an eternity.

At first I merely let my fingertips slide along her slit, feeling her writhe and strain for greater contact. She’s so soft, so incredibly wet it’s a nearly frictionless touch, simply gliding over her most tender parts. Her gasps and soft cries take on a more pleading tone and I can no longer resist her pull. I slide my fingers deeper into her valley and allow her hips to find the placement as she impales herself on me, taking my fingers deep inside and grinding on them.

I’m so lost in the sensation it’s almost a surprise when the top of her cleft meets with my chin. She lets out a soft cry and I drop my mouth the scant distance necessary to truly taste her. Near where my chin had rested I find her neat little bud, a perfect place for sucking and I do so without thinking; as lost in her sweetness as I am, I continue to thrust and explore her insides with my fingers.

One of her hands grips the sheets and the other holds my head in place as her writhing reaches new heights, her chest heaving as she pants for air. I can do nothing but marvel at her beauty and utter abandon, my mouth and hands continuing of their own accord. As her frenzy works to a fever pitch, I’m mesmerized, totally in her power as she is in mine, and she lets out a guttural cry, primal, from some dark part of her soul as her insides clamp down on my fingers and I can feel her slickness coating my hand and her inner thighs. She’s like some primitive goddess, pure and animalistic, loving and brutal.

Awe turns to horror as I hear fast footfalls outside our door, followed by a pounding. I can barely throw the blankets up over her before the door is thrown open and our floor monitor bursts in. My heart seizes in my chest for a moment as Sara looks up, flushed and groggily confused.

“My Lord, Abigail! What’s going on in here!?” My eyes are wide and I can feel my heart seize in my chest. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

“She was having a bad dream. I don’t know… I tried to wake her…” My mind is locked in terror and my heart goes from a complete stop to a hundred miles an hour, thundering in my chest and ears.

I quickly stand and step back as the forty-something nun crosses to my sister’s bedside and sits down beside her. Sara just looks confused and all I can do is pray the smell and wetness on my hands and face go unnoticed. Sister Francis lays a gentle hand on Sara’s forehead, giving her a concerned look.

“She seems to have a bit of a fever. Are you all right, Sara dear?” I feel very near fainting. Sara faintly smiles and gazes over at me, still breathing a bit heavily.

“I think I’ll be fine. It was just a dream. Could Abby sleep with me though? I feel better with her close.” Her voice is dreamy and soft, I can almost see the tough old nun’s heart melt. She’s certainly been familiar with our fighting.

“Certainly, dear.” She stands and gives me a stern look. “Abigail, I know you two don’t always get along, but your sister is sick and she needs you. Look after her. There’s nothing more important in this world than your sister.” I stare gape-jawed for a moment, then slowly nod.

“Yes, Ma’am. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

Under Francis’ watchful gaze I strip and pull on a nightshirt, then crawl into bed beside Sara, doing my best to keep her naked form covered. The nun gives me one last commanding glare, then retreats, closing the door and enveloping us in darkness once again.

Sara immediately pulls me into a lingering kiss, letting her hands slide up under my nightshirt, sending a thrill up my spine. After the kiss breaks I hold her close. I never want to let her go.

“You looked guilty as sin there, Sis. If you were anyone else we would’ve been so busted.” Softly giggling she settles in against me, still completely naked under the covers.

“Yeah, well… maybe that just means God wants us together. He kept our secret safe right in front of one of his daughter-in-laws.” Our giggling continues long into the night, and we fall asleep nestled together, finally in tune with our other halves.

 The End

How My Niece Juli Came To Be My Vixen, Chapter 2

  • Posted on February 1, 2017 at 1:08 pm

By Openmindedwoman

How we enjoyed those close times!

So often I went home dripping wet and sooo stimulated, and then masturbated, wondering if they were feeling any of the inner urges that I was. I knew they were nearing hormone time themselves, growing and changing. And our ways of being together continued to grow and change as well when they were 11 and 10.

They liked the caressing fingers on their arms and sides and necks and backs. Sometimes a back scratch would happen, as they would lie with their head in my lap, one at a time, to have their backs and shoulders scratched and rubbed.

Backs and shoulders… and bottoms, lightly, and the backs of their legs if I could reach them.

Touch… intimate, familiar touch, still not overly sexual touch, but I certainly realized that my nipples always hardened, and I would feel the moisture sliding inside my pussy.

And those were the years that they began to surprise me with their awareness and curiosity.

“When will I have hair on my vagina, Aunt Leslie?” Juli asked as she lay with her head on my tummy and her fingers casually combing the dark fur on my mound.

They had learned a little of body parts terminology from their mom, but that’s as far as she would go with any talk about bodies or sexuality in any way.

“Well, Juli, I started seeing mine when I was about 12, but it didn’t really get full until I was maybe 17 or 18, I guess.  But everybody is different about that. Have you had any sex ed lessons at school?”

Justin piped up, “Naahhhh the kids say that doesn’t happen until 7th grade, so it’s another year for her, and two for me.  But kids all talk about it, especially if they have older brothers.”

I loved how open to talk they both were, and they knew they would get honest answers from me.

“David Bower says his brother calls it a girl’s ‘pussy’,” he giggled, continuing. “But I think that’s dirty, isn’t it?”

It was an opportunity for me to advance with the attitude I was feeling inside, so I responded, “Well, you two… yes, there are proper terms for our bodies that I would use with your mom or any other adults, like your teacher or doctor or whoever, but I have to admit that when I was your age we all called them ‘pussies’ and ‘cocks’, just like some of your friends might. I don’t think that’s dirty, exactly… well, a little naughty, maybe, but you can use whichever words you want to around me.”

I held my breath at this, wondering if they would be shocked at their aunt’s words. It made my heart beat faster.

There was silence for a while, then Juli added, still lightly combing my pussy hair, “Some of the girls in my class are starting to get titties, too, Aunt Leslie. Do you think mine will be like yours and Mom’s or will they be smaller? I want them to be big enough.”

It sort of blew my mind that Juli was giving voice to her private thoughts, and apparently had decided it didn’t matter if her brother was in on the conversation, and that she used the word ‘titties’, which came from her friends, no doubt, rather than what her mother would have taught her.

And it was making me squirm a little to feel her fingers tugging at my pubes, though she wasn’t really touching my skin or going for anything else.

I let my hand slide from her back to cup her tight little bottom. “Oh, darling, don’t ever worry about how big they are. A girl’s tits are very special, and as you get older you will learn that there is much more to all that than how big they grow. In fact, smaller ones are much more comfortable when you get to be my age and older. You know that mine are soft and hang a little now, don’t you?”

Justin leaned in and without hesitation reached up and held my right breast in his palm. “Your nipples are really big, too, compared to Juli’s, and even Mom’s,” he declared.

Juli turned her head to face my torso, which put her face practically against my left breast. My hand rested easily on her hip, and slid up and down from her armpit to her ribs to hipbone to thigh.

“Well, nipples can get a little larger when they are stimulated, Justin,” I answered. “But have you been spying on your mom when she’s naked?”

“Well, sometimes sorta……” he murmured. “Are yours, um, stimulated now, Aunt Leslie?”

I looked down to see Juli moving her hand to her own little tit, fingers sliding across her nipples.

“Well, are they?” she asked me.

I sighed, resigned to letting this go wherever it would go. “Yes, I guess they are. It does feel very nice when they are touched, or when you two are so very close, like this.”

Justin let his hand move, fingers sliding across my right nipple, feeling its rigidity, back and forth.  And Juli boldly leaned forward a little more and captured my left nipple with her lips, sucking on it lightly. I let out a little moan and a big breath, and they both backed off.

“Did that hurt, Aunt Leslie?” Juli asked.

“Oh, no, sweetheart, it felt really good, actually, just like I think it feels when you touch your own, doesn’t it?”

“Ohhh my god yes it does!” she answered, and her hand moved again to her own sprouting tit, fingers sliding more quickly back and forth across the hardening little bud.

“I hope you two take time to explore yourselves, more and more,” I dared, “especially now that you seem to be recognizing how good it feels.”

And they did, so they said, as time went by and Juli turned 12, with Justin a year behind.

We weren’t together as often for a while, as their mother felt they were old enough to be alone for short periods of time, even a few hours if she went to a movie or out with friends in the evening. But sometimes I would still stay over, if she was gone for a weekend, or they would come to visit me, just… well, just because I’m their aunt and they wanted to.

Of course, whenever we had the opportunity, we would talk about the sexy things they were feeling, about what their friends at school said or did, and I would correct them about the myths that some parents spread in order to keep their kids from exploring their sexual selves. The warm naked intimate feeling of sitting next to each other on the couch felt more arousing than ever to me, and clearly it was to both of them as well.

It didn’t take long for them to strip their clothes when we were together, and they would patiently help me undress, which always excited me even more. Nipple play was one of the things we talked about a lot, and Juli reported that she loved to wake herself slowly in the morning by caressing her growing tits, now the size of sweet little apples, with those thin but now, ever so long pink nipples that seemed to be constantly rigid. She would usually caress them almost absentmindedly as we talked, strumming, or tugging lightly, sometimes twitching a little when she did so. It always made my heart race to sit like this, naked on the couch, talking about their growing awareness.

“They still feel that good when you play with them, sweetheart?” I asked, mimicking her actions on my own nipples, feeling them tighten and expand as she watched.

“Wow yes for sure!” she answered, and licked her lips.

I noticed that Justin had moved his hand to his lap and was touching his hard cock in a variety of rolling motions, pulling the foreskin back to expose the shiny head beneath.

“Mine feel good, too,” he said, “especially when you touch them, Aunt Leslie. But it feels even better when I touch my cock and pull the skin back like this.”

Julie craned her neck to see, and giggled a little.

“Shut up,” Justin retorted. “Just cuz YOU don’t have one.”

At age 11, Justin had started a growth spurt, and I noticed how much his youthful penis had begun to come along for the ride. No doubt he would eventually be a well-endowed young man, with plenty to offer to whomever might be interested.  My heart beat just a little faster to see him so willingly on display for his aunt and his sister, and clearly relating it to sexual feelings.

“Actually,” I softly shushed them both, “she does have something that is similar. Girls have what’s called a clitoris, and the tip of it feels to us a lot like the head of your cock feels when you touch it, Justin. You do touch it sometimes, don’t you?”

“Oh yeahhhhh…” he smiled. “For sure, and god it does feel good. Some of the boys talk about how much they jack off. I’ve done that, well…” he blushed “…a little bit I guess.”

Meanwhile, Julie had spread her legs wide and was feeling herself, looking for that little button I mentioned.

“Here,” I said, scooting forward, spreading my legs wider and moving her a bit aside so she could see. I used one hand to spread the top of my pussy lips and the other to press down on the back end of my hood so that my clit popped out, fleshy pink, large and wet from the folds.

“This is where a girl’s clit lives, you two, and you should both honor it and treat it with special care if you ever touch a girl that way.” Holding myself open with one hand, I licked the fingers on my other hand and used the tip of my index finger to slide back and forth across the tip of my clit.

“This is the way girls ‘jack off’, Justin. Sometimes we call it ‘jilling’, and just like when you touch the head of your cock, it feels really really good to do. Using a little spit helps make it feel even better.”

They watched while I flicked my clit back and forth, using two fingers over the tip, and then pressed down harder, rolling it, moving my hips in a fucking motion against my hand, losing myself in the mounting feelings that had been fueled by the highly charged conversation, and the fact that my now almost teenage niece and nephew were watching me masturbate, watching their auntie display her oozing moist pussy, learning about self-induced pleasure, and apparently totally comfortable with it.

Minutes went by, and more, as they snuggled up close, watching, leaning against my arms. I spread my legs wider, tipping my hips upward, letting the feelings overwhelm me, not caring what happened. Then I used the other hand to cup my pussy, and slid two fingers deep inside, curling them, stroking my inner walls, plunging into myself with wet slurpy noises until I felt the spasms start inside, rolling through my hot, soaked tunnel and exploding in my head and in my loins.

“Ohhhh goddd yessss…. fuckkkkkk yessss,” I managed to squeal as my orgasm overtook me, heart pounding and breath ragged. The kids held my arms and hugged me tighter, not frightened, but clearly realizing that something powerful was happening.

“Wow, Aunt Leslie, I mean…” Juli half whispered. “Does it really feel THAT good? When I rub myself it feels good, but you were like, something I dunno…”

“And you said ‘fuck’,” Justin giggled. “If mom heard us say that she would have a cow.”

I smiled, realizing I had just taken a pretty big step from the edgy but more ‘informational’ talking we had done into clearly ‘on display’ sexual territory, and I’d felt a huge rush about doing it with them watching me. And they had not backed off, but seemed into it, curious, already exploring themselves, feeling the beginnings of their teen hormones and very attracted by all of it.

“Did I really say that?” I countered. “I suppose I shouldn’t be using such naughty language around you two, even if that’s what I’m feeling.”

“But you told us to use the words we want to use, even if it makes us feel naughty,” Juli answered, reaching again to comb the hair just above my slit. It was matted down by the wetness of my weeping pussy cum pushed against my mound by my palm when my orgasm hit.

“Oh, yes, sweetheart, you are sooo right. We can all say whatever things here with each other that we want, as long as it’s respectful of each other, and makes us feel good with each other.”

I wrapped my arm around her, pulled her in and let my palm slide across her left breast, cupping it, feeling its firm small apple shape and warmth, with the hard spike of her nipple to roll, just with my palm.

“Do you like the feel of my little tits?” she whispered. “I like how it feels when you hold them like that.”

“Of course I do, baby girl. I love how they feel, and how your nipples get to be hard spikes, just like mine do when we’re turning on our bodies. Do you like how mine feel?”

I used my right hand to reach across and cup my left tit and offer it to her. She nuzzled it with her cheek, then turned her face to it, and licked, then suckled, then licked.

“Be careful there young lady,” I teased, “or you’ll have me ready to fuck myself all over again.”

Juli lifted her hand to hold and caress my tit as she suckled again, and I let my fingers slide back and forth across her extended nipple, feeling it ever so gently, capturing its base between my thumb and first two fingers, sliding them along it to the tip.

“Your nipples are as long as mine, sweetheart,” I observed. “Not as thick, but I think they must be longer than most girls your age, yes?”

“Mmmmm-hmmmm,” she  gurgled an answer, then released me. “I’ve noticed that mine are long… thinner than a lot of girls have, but longer.”

Indeed they stood out like tan pink spikes, well over half an inch from the darker pinkish-brown areolae that encircled them. We sat silently for a few moments until I noticed a movement on my other side, and we looked over to find Justin caressing his verrry erect cock.

“It’s pretty hot to watch her do that, Aunt Leslie… really… it makes my stomach feel all goosey to see it.”

I reached my hand over, palm down. “Pull back the skin, Justin, and rub the tip back and forth across my palm.”

He did just that, and immediately his breathing quickened. “That’s the way I do it on my top sheet in the mornings sometimes,” he admitted, so quietly it was nearly a whisper. I licked the palm of my hand and put it back for him to continue.

“There… doesn’t it feel better when there’s something slippery for it to slide against?”

He nodded, holding his impressively long rigid member in his hand, and moved it slowly back and forth, the very tip rubbing against my palm. He turned his head toward me and I adjusted so that my right nipple was available.

“Just imitate what Juli is doing, honey,” I sighed, and felt his mouth capture my nipple, pulling, sucking, tongue washing over it as if he had done this a thousand times. My stomach churned as I felt the warmth of my two darlings, now feeling their own urges, and now understanding how natural and beautiful it is to let them flow, sharing openly the feelings they generate.

It didn’t take long for Justin’s hips to buck, and his voice to cry out, “Oh my godddd Aunt Leslie, it’s gonna happennnnnn.”

I felt the first hot spurt, on my palm, and moved my hand so I could see. Juli leaned out a bit so she could see better as well, and three or four more spurts of boy cream shot into the air.

“Goooood,” I crooned softly. “Soooo good, Justin, and I wrapped my arm around him to pull him closer as his spasms finished.

His cum had landed on his wrist and on his belly, and he seemed to not know what to do with it, so I reached over with my off hand and wiped it upwards, onto his chest, with my fingers. There wasn’t a lot, but more than I had expected. He flinched just a bit at first, but when I then wiped it onto my own chest, just between my tits, he relaxed.

Juli was wide-eyed. “It’s a mess,” she croaked.

“Oh, but it is such a good mess, Juli. It’s just a natural part of our body fluids, like the juices that our pussies produce. Some girls produce lots more than I do, but there was a bunch from me just a little bit ago, wasn’t there!”

I reached to Justin again and coated my fingers once more with the remains of his orgasm. I brought it to my nose, sniffed, and offered my fingers to Juli.

“See, not much there to smell.” Then I licked my fingers clean. “And it doesn’t really taste like all that much, either, just a little salty, and if it is from someone special, like Justin is special, then it’s really a treat for a girl.”

“That is like waaay beyond cool,” Justin cooed, and I asked Juli if she would like to try a drop.

“Wellllll, okay, I guess,” she said, and gamely licked a taste of her brother’s sperm from my fingertips. She didn’t react to the taste at all, and so I gave her another dollop, effectively finishing what was on Justin’s belly.

“It’s really not so bad,” she concluded. “Actually, it’s not as bad as some of the stuff we have to eat that’s like ‘good for us’… think brussels sprouts?” she giggled. And she suckled a little harder on my fingers, cleaning and tasting and using her mouth and tongue like a kitten on its paw.

“You two will get lots of chances to taste our girl juice, too,” I continued. “I think you will like that, too, Juli, when the time comes. I think you will be a natural.”

“I don’t feel like a natural right now,” Juli pouted. “You two both got to finish, and now I feel like it’s my turn!”

“You are soooo right, sexy one,” I responded. “Here, turn yourself so your head is on the pillow at the end of the couch, and put your right foot up on the back, like that.”

I moved her left foot up onto my knee and slid down a little more, spreading her long coltish legs wider. She had sprouted a very sparse growth of blonde hair on the mound above her smooth bald pussy lips, and I reached over to tug it and comb it, letting the feeling of my fingertips on her sensitive mons start her motor.

Her hands went to her smallish tits, and her eyes locked onto mine as she began to play. Justin leaned into me from the right, resting his head on my tit and his hand on my thigh, watching, breathing softly against me. I ran my fingers down Juli’s young vulva, and back up again.

“Show Justin your clitty, now, darling,” I instructed, and she reached both hands to part her lips, spreading them like I had done until her little pink bud came into view. She was a very wet girl, showing all the signs of a body mature enough to respond to the sexual play she had seen and felt.

I grabbed a small pillow from the floor and she lifted her hips as I slid it under her. “There, now we can see just what we need to see. Juli… is it okay… that we see?”

“I want you to see,” she whispered, “just like you showed us. I mean, it’s only fair, and besides,” she blushed a little, “it excites me when you see.”

If I didn’t know already, I knew then that my little minx of a niece was turning into a full-fledged sexual being. I reached out with my left hand palm up and slid my thumb neatly into her slick pussy.  My fingers ran naturally in between her bottom cheeks, and she wiggled herself onto them. Her face flushed even more, and she used one hand to keep herself spread, and licked the other set of fingers, coating them with saliva for her clit. What a fox! She knew exactly how to do it, fingertips rolling and then flicking and then rolling her young bud while I used my thumb to keep her feeling at least a little bit filled.

“Ohhhh god Aunt Leslie, I love that… fuck my little pussy for me.”

She was becoming our total leader in naughty language. It seemed to spur her on to hear her own voice uttering words she knew her mother thought to be dirty, but which only served to entice me more, and also served to make my adult heart beat rapidly and my woman pussy warm again.

“Uhhhh, uhhhh, uhhhhh,” she cried, barely audible, but matching the thrusting motion of her slim girl hips.

“Good, Juli… sooo good, baby. I love how your pussy is so tight on my thumb. Fuck my thumb, sweetheart, pull it right inside you,” I mouthed.

My fingers ran up and down over her puckered bottom hole as she moved, and she was totally lost in her own pleasure.

“This is how a girl fucks, Justin,” I offered.

“I know,” he said in return, “at least I know now. I just wish it was me, I think.”

His hand was boldly cupping my pussy as we watched, stroking it, feeling it, learning me as Juli bucked herself harder, her young girl juices beginning to flow out around my thumb.

And then she mewed a deep throaty sound like a siren beginning, just the start of it, and then starting again, and over and over again as her orgasm flowed through her body. I could feel her pussy hot inside, tightening as its spasms pulled at my thumb. I let the tip of one finger slip more firmly around her anal opening, lubricated by the running down of her own wetness. I felt it tighten and spasm along with her pussy as I caressed it, while she held her own legs wide apart and thrust her young bare pelvis forward with instinctive motions against my hand.

“See, Justin?… See how beautiful she is when she cums? Just like you were, lost in the world of her high. You must always sense where a girl is in her cum, and do it harder, or softer, whatever she seems to need, or asks for, if she is able to. But you must be aware of her sensitive spots, feel for them, listen and feel for her reactions to your touches, and always do what feels the very best for her.”

I tilted my head to one side and smiled as Juli began to come down. “Got it?”

He nodded and eased up a little with his fingers on my slick labia, lifting them to his nose, then daring to taste a bit from his fingers as Juli’s hard breathing began to subside. Her slim body jerked slightly when I removed my thumb and ran it a little across her clit, and she put her hand on it, signaling that she just wanted to be still.

“The time may come, darling niece, when you will want to continue right through the super sensitivity, and go for a second round. I can remember doing that… doing multiple orgasms, but sometimes it is overwhelming to go right from one to the other. Sometimes we need a little recovery first… but sometimes the recovery diminishes the feeling, and it’s time to stop. It’s all okay, Juli, whichever way. It’s all soooo good, and so good to share.”

She smiled and nodded, our eyes locked in wonder with each other, and she blew me a kiss with her other hand.

“You were great, sis!” Justin’s enthusiastic offering broke the silence of our closeness. “You were like totally awesome!! It must have felt just like it did for me.”

I pulled my hand from Juli’s sopping pussy and licked a little, then moved it to Juli’s face.

“Taste yourself, sweetheart. You’ll find that we girls all taste just a little different, but we taste sexy and delicious, just like you do, but all in different ways.”

She didn’t hesitate, and I give her lots of credit for her open mind about inhaling her own slippery wetness, lapping it, and then sucking it from my fingers, from my palm.

“That’s it, sweet girl. Learn to enjoy all of that. The time will come when you’ll have an opportunity to get it right from the source, and the more open to that you are, and the more you can honestly enjoy it, the more your girlfriends will feel like you deserve the same intimate treatment from them.”

Continue on to Chapter 3