Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Thom

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in July 2006 }

I stared at her beautiful face as I usually do when I see a pretty little girl at a restaurant that I’m eating at or if I’m shopping, walking along the sidewalk, or in a store when a family comes in with a preteen in tow. Almost always, they turn away from my gaze, my ogling really, unabashedly. Which allows me to continue to stare without their knowing it. Continue to admire them and dream about them without their knowing that I am. On rare occasions, they might look a second time at me but the result is the same, they immediately turn away from my gaze.

If a mother catches me ogling their daughters, and they sometimes do, I always remark how pretty the little girl is, which of course is the truth, and the mother typically is flattered. This little girl though returned my stare so steadily, so intensely that it was I who turned away first, embarrassed I think. But I soon returned, not able to resist my temptation, to find her still there staring at me. And she was so lovely, I so wanted to take her in with my eyes. Let me absorb all of her, so that my fantasy life could have a fresh one to toss around. To get me through the meal that I was suffering with my dull husband. To get me through the nearly sleepless night that was approaching. To get me over the next time I was able to touch myself.

Flirting with the eyes is usually an adult thing but what this girl was doing was definitely that, there was no mistaking it. She forced me to look away a second time and to scope out her parents and her older sister as I did to see if there was a clue in their faces that would explain the adventure I was having with the little girl between the salad course and the entrée. Had she been sexualized by all of them, some of them?

The third time I looked back she was still there, staring at me and this time she smiled with a twinkle in her eye. Was that a wink I saw? No couldn’t have been. She was ten or maybe eleven. Just the age I prefer. It’s just tucked between things, isn’t it? The childhood is behind them. The hormone induced petulant teens are ahead of them. Sometimes there is the beginning of some puberty by then, but typically not. If their breasts have begun to form, there usually isn’t any body hair yet. I prefer it that way. Maybe the nubs but not the hair. The mound still smooth, bare, tight, puffy.

This time, we were fully engaged. I wasn’t letting up. I needed to soak her in to keep me steady. Another victim of my secret life. I’m like a vampire that way. Needing the blood of another in order to stay alive. She wanted me, this little girl, as much as I wanted her. But how could she? How could she know? Was she taught to stare down someone staring at her in order to foil them? No, I didn’t think so. She was too circumspect. I saw her glance occasionally at her sister and father who were across from her and to her left at her mother who, if she had been paying attention, would have caught us.

I had a little girl once, all to myself. It’s been ten years now, I was in my 20’s. A nanny arrangement for an extended period of time. Going into it, I didn’t know I liked little girls. I knew I liked girls, or at least I thought I did part of the time, guys were okay too. This little girl and I though were to be inseparable for months. I had no other responsibilities and her family was not going to be around, even for a minute. Of course that doesn’t mean you need to seduce someone in that situation. Or take advantage of them just because you are pretty much the only person around that is going to take care of them. At least while their family was away.

In reality, it was the little girl, in that case, that seduced me. She was ten and it seems, as it turns out, that several members of her family had taken advantage of her innocence and beauty to serve their own needs. I gathered afterward, no one more so than her mother who, as a female, I was substituting for. But there had been slightly older male and female cousins and an aunt who had discovered the truth about her and mom and bribery set in.

What that little girl was used to in her relationship with her mother, took some getting used to as I came to understand what had become routine for her. And what, due to the overwhelming addiction sex is, in general, had become necessary for her to experience in order to stay centered in other parts of her life.

Mother would join her naked at bedtime. Dad had typically turned in earlier, an older, very busy businessman that had married mom young and beautiful, as a trophy. As an infant, mom had nursed my little girl in the nursery (how old-fashioned) instead of bringing the baby into the master bedroom as has become the modern practice. Since there wasn’t any particular compelling reason to return to her husband’s bed, at least during the week, mom often didn’t. There was a full sized bed in the nursery and mom usually slept there overnight.

As my little girl got old enough to graduate out of her crib and into that bed, mom was still there often, spending the night. The evening ritual of nursing, which was no longer necessary but continued nevertheless, was supplemented with additional comforting activities that involved the mouth and the hands and not having any clothes on. At the end of those activities, that had become rituals in and of themselves, mom and my little girl would fall asleep in each others arms, touching skin to skin, caressing each other. Perhaps their lips together.

It must have been emotionally wrenching the event that took mommy away from that. It certainly was for my little girl. What was the mother to do though? She was obliged to fulfill a wifely function elsewhere that taking her daughter, my little girl, with her would have been dangerous for the child. So stay she did and with me she did and with some help from others, we survived, some might say, even thrived.

I took my orders from my little girl but I believe that after some small amount of instruction, I had pretty much picked up where the mother left off and the little girl settled into a routine that was as anxiety free and comforting as the one she had before her mother and father left.

Our bedtime ritual would begin with a bath or a shower. At her age, a shower was more useful but sometimes she would insist on a bath because we would do it together. I mean we would be in the tub together. We would do showers together too but in the tub we could cuddle, be close. I could hold her between my legs. She could lean back on my chest.

After drying off each other with large, fluffy towels we would hold hands and walk naked into the little girl’s room. Climbing into the bed together, there was a chapter or two of a book we were reading together, taking turns reading to each other. Her little body would be nestled next to mine. Our skin touching as much as possible, able to make a smooth transition when the book was laid to rest for the evening. My little girl would roll up onto me, cupping a breast in her hands and putting her mouth on it.

She would stretch her legs out straight, putting a knee on either side of my thigh and push her center into it, humping me. The first time she did was magical. I could feel the contours of her mound on my leg. Even after I began to expect it as part of what we were in the evening, it along with her sweet little lips pulling on my nipples never failed to arouse me.

Early on, as I was learning about this special relationship between my little girl and her mommy, my arousal would control me and I would need to pleasure myself, the urge was so tremendously overwhelming. The huge taboo that I was breaking was pushing me so over the edge. After a few times though of messing up the scene, of being selfish and not honoring the special relationship that I was becoming privileged to, I forced myself to be patient. My turn was coming.

After nursing, my little girl would come fully on to me her substitute mommy and our lips would meet. Small pecks to start but then we would become fully engaged. If I rocked my hips up, and I was instructed to, pulling my heels up to my bum, our pussies would just touch. Gently we would stimulate each other this way while our kisses intensified in their passion.

Then my little girl would bring her precious sex up to my mouth to love for her. Butterfly kisses to begin of course, mommy just extending her love and affection for her little girl only slightly beyond propriety. But shortly, the little girl would be pushing her slit into my mouth, wanting, expecting, desiring more. direct contact, my lips on hers. My lips creating a tight seal around her clitty and sucking it into mouth. My little girl writhing over me. Her juices flowing freely onto my face. I could get away with touching myself now. Did her mommy touch herself then? We don’t know. How could she have managed not to?

The little girl would pleasure herself on my face for quite awhile, coming easily and comfortably. Quickly but assuredly. Nothing tentative about it. Like this little one that was sitting just beyond me at a nearby table. Nothing tentative about it. She was staring at me, ogling me, I was letting down in my panties her eyes so intently meeting mine and thinking about my little girl lover again. I wondered if there would be a puddle when I arose? Would my husband notice when we undressed for bed, how wet my panties were. and would he think that it was for him?

I have to go to the bathroom, I said to my husband but slowly enough so that the little girl could read my lips. She said the same thing to her mother and her mother got up to let her out. I let her pass and was only a step behind her. We were going the wrong way though. I knew it but she didn’t. She had walked toward me, the restroom was the other way. But I could do nothing but follow her. I couldn’t give us away by correcting her. How would I know that she was going to the bath room if I hadn’t been watching her so intently? Of course, where else would she be going? To the bar to get a drink?

Must have been the last thing mommy taught my little girl was how to pleasure her. The last barrier crossed. The taboo finally fully engaged. Fully fulfilled. Taking pleasure from your daughter, that you might have found elsewhere but didn’t. Wasn’t forthcoming from the obvious places. How does it begin? Can I do that to you mommy? Is there something I can do for you mommy? Will you do this for me honey? Can I show you what I like, little one?

My little girl would scoot down off of my face and lower herself to my middle. She would part my labia and knew where to find my clit without poking and probing around. Without any assistance from me. She was so very gentle with me. No lover I have ever had, ever treated me so well. So considerate of my sensibilities. Her hands so soft, her mouth so effective, her lips so sensuous, her tongue so engaging.

After a little bit, she would spin around. She knew just when I was satisfied enough to want the extra stimulation of her bottom on my mouth. It was so juicy by then. Even for a little her odor was scrumptious. Just the beginning of being pungent, adult like. She was erect again by this time. She was doing both of us a favor by spinning her bottom my way. I licked from the back forward and when I got past her rose bud, I inserted a finger using her wetness for a lubricant. I clamped myself onto her clit. She sucked on mine as an expert. We came in waves, she and I. Every night I was with her it was the same. We were insatiable, she and I. I wouldn’t have changed a moment of it.

We were headed to the bar, the little one and I. I was going to set us going in the right direction with as little embarrassment and fuss to either one of us. Once we were far enough away from her family’s table, our conspiracy would not be revealed. The bathroom is the other way. Why didn’t you say so earlier? Oh, because. I thought maybe we would walk this way awhile so it would seem neither one of us knew where we were going. I still don’t but I’ll follow you. Do we have to go back by my family? Nope. It’s that way but let’s go all the way to the bar so that we can pretend we asked directions. Good plan. Already a full blown conspiracy and I didn’t know this girl, did I?

We would snuggle in a heap, trying to catch our breath. Ashamed I think of how much pleasure we derived from one another. Night after night. Was it worse or better for her, not being her mother? Was it worse or better for me, not being her mother? Weren’t we just two strangers now, who had become lovers? Was I really her mother? Did she think so? All of this would remain unspoken forever.

Passing out, we would sleep soundly in each other’s arms. The morning would bring a new day filled with child carrying, child entertainment, child functions like school and sports and birthday parties. The night time would repeat itself infinitely. Was it too much responsibility for my little girl? She never complained. Was it too much responsibility for me? I never complained.

Luckily we were the only ones in the bathroom when we finally got there. You are very pretty she said. I couldn’t stop looking at you. You are very pretty too, and I couldn’t stop looking at you either. We faced the mirrors in the bathroom, still staring at each other but as a reflection instead of the real thing, not having family and distance to protect ourselves from what might happen next. What I was thinking I wanted to happen next. What was she thinking? What could she be thinking? She was so young. But so was my little and look at what she must have been thinking.

The mother returned. Earlier than expected. Earlier than we both expected. What had we been up to? What stories had our little one told? Not only stories mommy. We acted them out. Oh, you did? Yes and we still do. Every night. Oh, you do? Well I’m back now. What should we do so that we don’t make a mess of this I wanted to know? We’ll be together for awhile. The three of us. We owe it to her. You owe it to me. I owe it to you? You started this, I just pretended to be you and it wasn’t easy at first and now it’s impossible to imagine life without it. What am I to do now, without a little girl? You’ll just have to deal, she’s my little girl, you know? Yes, of course I know, she learned from you. I learned from her.

The three of us were lovers for several months. I was the meat of a sandwich between the bread of the two of them. The little girl was very fond of me, maybe more than of her mommy who had disappeared on a strong wind in the middle of the night, and then reappeared with its return. I had been there, I had been different. I had been very aroused by her. It could not have gone unnoticed. So was mommy, all of those things. I had learned how to love girls from the daughter and I applied it to the mommy. The mommy thought I was a good learner. That I was a good lover of little girls and big girls too.

I have to pee, she said. Me too. In here. We entered a stall together. You first. She pulled her jeans and panties down. I knelt before her as she squatted on the toilet. She leaned forward and brought her lips to mine. Her pee, a steady, strong stream into the water in the toilet. We had a firm kiss. How do you know how to do that honey? My mother kissed me. Like that? Well maybe not like that but I felt like kissing you like that. You can pee, I’m done.

She stood up, but left her pants down around her ankles. I picked up my skirt and pulled down my panties before I sat down. As I did, she touched me and touched herself. I released my pee. What do you know about all of that? A lot, why? Because you are so young? I talk to my friends. I touch myself, masturbate mommy calls it. We kissed again. I touched her. She moaned and pushed into my hand. How do I reach you? How do I talk to you again? On line, she gave me her email address.

We kissed again, still touching each other intimately. One additional moment and it would have been beyond my ability to control it, to end it. I would have had to steal away with her. Maybe that would have been the best thing for both of us. But we didn’t. We pulled ourselves together, kissed one more time, more passionately this time, and left the restroom.

On line then I whispered I love you as she walked ahead of me to our respective tables. I saw her mouth the words as she got back to her seat beside her mother, staring intently back at me.

The End