Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cheryl Taggert

I left the apartment and headed north on Granville Street to walk the five blocks to the YWCA. It was a Saturday, and the sun was shining brightly on my new day. I had had a birthday, alright, but as it turned out, I was celebrating being nine, not twenty-one.

I ran some on the way, the bag bouncing against my shoulders. I felt more alive than I ever had before. I felt — young.

I reached the entrance and went in. Then it occurred to me. The problem with my little plan. My membership was for a twenty-one-year-old college student, not a nine-year-old girl. I stopped and looked at the woman at the desk as she answered some questions for one of the members. There was no way I could get past her into the hall that led to the showers and pool without being noticed.

And as I stood there, someone spoke behind me.

“You need help?”

I turned around slowly. I recognized that voice. Could it really be? Would she recognize me in my younger state?

When I turned, I was looking into the bleary eyes of my best friend, Anne. She looked at me strangely, with a note of slight recognition, but of course she did not know who I was. The impossibility of what had happened was in my favor.

I had to make something up, and fast.

“Oh, well, my family is new to town and they have a membership, but I forgot my card.”

Anne was still looking at me strangely, as if trying to figure out what was familiar. The look of sudden understanding made my heart skip a beat. I didn’t mind telling her eventually, but I did not want to tell her yet.

“My little sister has an outfit exactly like that one!” She looked down at my feet. “Even the sandals are just like hers! What a coincidence.”

I breathed again. The outfit. That was a relief. Then I thought of the other part of this charade and the connection with Becky. My God, what would Anne think when she saw the bathing suit? She would think I was stalking her sister or something, copying everything about her. Oh, well. In for a penny.

“It’s a popular style. I have another friend where I moved from who had this same outfit.”

We then attacked my problem.

“So you forgot your card? That is okay. I know the girl at the counter. I can get you in.” She winked at me and smiled.

After stepping up to the counter, she spoke to Carol, the girl behind the desk. I knew Carol too, sort of. Of course, that was the twenty-one-year-old me. I stayed back, letting Anne do the talking.

Then turning back to me, Anne took my hand in hers and led me back to the locker rooms. She smiled down at me.

“You look familiar. Maybe it’s the outfit.”

Just wait, I thought to myself. You ain’t seen nothing yet.

We entered the locker area. I turned continued walking to the last row of lockers, which were hidden a bit from the view of people who were walking past into the shower and pool areas of the YWCA and prayed Anne would turn into another area, but she didn’t, following me instead. In fact, she took the locker right next to mine.

“So you moved here recently, huh?”

“Yes,” I answered, nervous about the suit.

“You look like you are my sister’s age. She’s nine. How old are you?”

“I’m nine too,” I said, swallowing hard.

Anne was undressing and I was aware that she was waiting for me to start doing the same. “I will have to introduce you. You know, you just look so familiar to me. Have we ever met?”

“No, I don’t think so.” I began to remove the outfit, first the sandals and top, then the shorts and panties. Thank God, they were typical white cotton ones. I stripped out of them and stood naked, nervous about taking out the bathing suit.

I noticed that Anne was naked beside me. Then it occurred to me that she was taking her time fishing her own suit out. I felt her eyes on me. I looked up, and she was looking at me alright. But it was the way she was looking at me that made my heart skip a beat. She was smiling nervously. I knew Anne well, and I knew when she was nervous. And she was extremely nervous right now for some reason.

We stood there, naked and alone in the locker room, and she spoke up with a strained voice, as if there were a tightness in her throat.

“My sister’s name is Becky. We’re close. Very close.”

Oh, my God. Then I knew. Anne was hot for me. Oh, God. ANNE was hot for me! I could see it in her eyes, the uncertain smile on her face.

Then WHAT she had said slammed me. Close? She and Becky were CLOSE? I knew they were close, at least as close as sisters can be when one is so much older. But she was obviously hinting something else. It was a major revelation. She and Becky were sexually involved.

And Anne wanted me. Just like that woman a dozen years ago.

I knew I could have had that woman.

And I knew I could–and would–have Anne.

Instead of getting her bathing suit out and putting it on, she sat down on the bench. “You want to talk for a second?”

Boy, I knew where THIS was heading. I decided to go full speed ahead. I sat down, straddling the bench, putting my bald little pussy on display. Her eyes made an involuntary drop to look at my pussy and then quickly jumped back up to my face.

“Sure. Whatcha wanna talk about?”

She was unsure of herself. Then deciding, she straddled the bench too, as if joining me in that position of facing each other. Her pink pussy lips opened to my view. I could see the moisture building down there. “I was just wondering if you wanted to meet my little sister since she’s your age.”

“Sure,” I smiled. That would certainly work out well. Becky, I knew now, was sexually active with her big sister Anne, who would be twenty soon. I knew that if I played my cards right, I would have them both before the day was through.

I noticed Anne allowing her eyes to dart down to my hairless little twat again, and I did the same, glancing occasionally at her hair-covered one. her clit was beginning to protrude from its hood. We each sat there, mesmerized by the view we were giving each other.

I looked up, and she was looking at my face. Of course, she knew where my view had been focused. She smiled.

“Looks a lot different from yours, doesn’t it?” she grinned. Then she looked down at my pussy slit. I followed her gaze and saw my little clitoral hood peeking from between the folds of my outer lips.

“Yes, it does.”

“I’m sorry. I just like to look sometimes and compare,” she said in apology. “I do that with my sister a lot too.”

“Your sister sounds really cool,” I said, breathing deeply and smelling her scents wafting from her cunt.

“Yes, she is,” she said, involuntarily licking her lips.

I looked her right in the eye and asked, “Does she like to look at your pussy too?”

She smiled, liking my use of the adult term. It turned into a grin. “Sometimes more,” she hinted.

I glanced around. Still nobody else there. I was thankful it was early and that I had inadvertently chosen the hidden locker area for completely different reasons. I scooted forward, my eyes glued to her pussy.

I looked up at her and saw that she wanted me to touch her. Her eyes moved from my hand to her pussy and back again. Then she repeated the motion. She was suggesting I touch her.

For a second I didn’t move. “Do you want to touch it just to feel what it feels like with all that hair?”

I nodded.

“Then go ahead.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. I reached out and touched her pussy, rubbing the inner lips deftly and dipping to get some of her juices on my fingers. Lubricating them, I moved them around in her pussy, relishing the feel of it.

“Do you mind if I . . .?” she asked, allowing my understanding to finish her sentence.

“Of course not,” I grinned wickedly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

With that she moved her fingers to my little bald pussy and began to rub its smoothness, creasing my slit with her finger and touching my sensitive clit.

I did the same to her hairy mound. My fingers settled on her clit, rubbing softly.

Our breathing increased, and I reached for her breasts with my other hand.

“I think you’ve done this before,” she sighed.

“A couple of times,” I said. What was I going to do? I couldn’t very well appear this experienced without having done this before, after all.

She continued rubbing me, and I realized it wouldn’t take me long. The idea that my best friend and the little sister I was so hot for were lovers was enough to send me over the edge anyway. I increased my pace to match her rhythms. We masturbated each other furiously.

“Do you do this with your sister?” I asked.

“All the time,” she said throatily. She was close too.

“Would she let me do this too?”

“If I told her to, she would. She does everything I tell her.”

“But I would want her to want it,” I said in return. I didn’t want to do it with her if she wasn’t willing.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. She would LOVE to. She keeps telling me she wishes she could meet someone her age to have fun with.

It occurred to me that I may not remain Becky’s age, but of course I said nothing. My orgasm was approaching.

She started coming first. She began with a low moan that rose into a stifled grunt and squeal. Her breathing danced from her lungs in great waves, causing her boobs to rise and fall to meet my hand. She renewed her efforts to bring me off.

“Do you have orgasms, yet, hon?” she asked, rubbing my pussy and smearing juices from her own pussy onto my labia to help lubricate it.

I nodded. “Yes, and I’m close.” My own breathing beat a fast rhythm.

Then she lay down, placing her lips against my pussy. She began to lick me.

I went into orbit.

Quickly.

Intensely.

Totally out of this world.

My insides quivered with the rhythmic contractions.

I was in heaven.

When we had finished, we looked as if we had had a workout. “Time for the pool,” she said.

“Yes, it is,” I answered, catching my breath.

She giggled. “Oh, my name is Anne.”

I looked at her. I realized that I could tell her the truth. I had just had sex with her, and I now knew her most intimate secret, that she had incestuous sex with her little sister and had just seduced me. I decided to go for it.

“I know your name.”

“Oh, did I already tell you?” she laughed.

“No, I knew you before.”

She looked puzzled. “I thought you looked familiar. Do you know my sister?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s where I know you from,” she said grinning. “I thought you looked familiar.”

“No, Anne, that’s not where you know me from. In fact, I know your sister through knowing you.”

Now she was confused.

“Huh?”

“Anne, I’m Cheryl. You were at my birthday party last night.”

“Oh, come on! Who put you up to this? Cheryl?”

“No, really Anne. It’s me. Remember my birthmark?” I turned my hip to show the coffee-colored patch that was shaped like Florida. She had commented on it numerous times.

She just stared. “What the fuck?” She looked at me. “Cheryl? How?”

“I made a wish on a star last night.”

Then what had just happened occurred to her. “Oh, God! Cheryl! You know now! About me and. . . Oh, GOD!” She began to cry.

“No, hon. I’m glad I know about you and Becky. I’ve wanted Becky for a long time now.”

She looked at me, sniffling. “Really?”

“Yes, really. I went to sleep last night wishing I had taken more time with my pussy when I was little, so when I woke up this morning, I was. Little I mean.”

“Shit!” It was all she could say.

“These are Becky’s clothes. I was about to panic about wearing her bathing suit.”

She began to laugh, drying her tears with her giggles.

“I love little girls and their bald little pussies. That’s why I have wanted Becky for so long,” I continued. “I even went into the bathroom last night while she was peeing so I could get a look at her pussy.”

“She told me about that,” Anne laughed more. “I just thought it was because you were drunk and didn’t realize what you were doing. But you mean you went in there to cop a look?”

I laughed now. “Yes. I have wanted her for over a year now.”

She looked at me and smiled. “Let’s go have a swim. Then we can BOTH have her!”

I leaned in and kissed her on the lips.

“Sounds good to me!”

Continue on to Chapter 3