Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Major Life Decisions

By Cheryl Taggert

I lay in bed most of that morning. My phone rang twice more, both calls from Lisa, but I didn’t pick up. I needed time to think about this. Falling in love just wasn’t in my plans right now. My mind was more focused on what I saw as a thriving business and its growth, and romance, while important, wasn’t what I was seeking. I was nearly in a panic. And yet I wasn’t. Why the hell did love have to be so confusing? Part of me was scared out of my mind; the other part was thrilled I was having these feelings.

And we barely knew each other. That was the strangest part of the whole thing. We’d met for the interview, chatted on the phone several times, met for coffee or to discuss her first job, which had been only last night with the delectable ten-year-old Kay. That was all.

Oh, yes, there was also the episode yesterday afternoon when we masturbated together out by her pool, complete with privacy fence.

And last night when we made love with Kay, a very willing participant. Of course, there were also the times last night when Kay needed some rest from our attentions when we turned to each other and had sex.

No, not had sex. We made love.

I thought about the look in Lisa’s eyes as we kissed. I recalled they were misty at times with more than lust. Much of my fears, I realized, centered around falling in love with her without her falling in love with me.

I realized falling in love may not be in my plans, but the idea of it was nice, even enticing. I am a nineteen-year-old girl, after all. And at least I was falling in love with someone who shared my special desires – the sexual longing for pubescent and prepubescent girls. Hell, at sixteen Lisa was barely beyond the start of puberty herself. The age difference isn’t a large one, but as I’d thought about before, it was a situation in which I was a legal adult and she was a minor.

Still, I couldn’t deny the feelings I was having. Just picturing her in my mind, even fully clothed, would start my heart beating a little faster, my breath coming in slight gasps for air, as if I had just run up a flight of stairs – or had a particularly wonderful orgasm.

I thought again of our afternoon together. How she had manipulated me into masturbating with her, all while making the direction the conversation took seem to be my idea. She had rubbed baby oil on her body to provide that heavenly sheen, ending with her pussy, when she had said, “Don’t think I’m doing anything over here” or something to that effect. Of course, it would have made my thoughts turn to masturbation, even if I hadn’t already been thinking about it. Not to mention how it would cause thoughts about Lisa. If I hadn’t already been thinking of her, that is.

I thought of the fact that when I came out of the bathroom yesterday, I couldn’t find Lisa, only to discover her in her bedroom, naked but for a towel wrapped around her slender, alluring figure, about to go sunbathe nude next to her privacy-fenced pool. “Want to join me? We could get to know each other better” or something like that had been what she had said. Now I wondered if she’d rehearsed it.

With sudden clarity, I realized I had been successfully seduced and was embarrassed it had taken so long to realize it, mostly because I had thought it was mostly my idea because of how I was steering the conversation to keep the topic about sex. I was so often the seducer, and I had failed to recognize when I was being seduced. If nothing else, it had been a mutual seduction, and I hadn’t thought of that before. I was also flattered. It isn’t every day such a cute, sexy girl wanted to go to bed with me.

But what were Lisa’s intentions? Just sex? Or was there something more there? True feelings of love blossoming just as surely as the breast buds on Kay’s chest would blossom one day?

I realized I couldn’t just keep avoiding Lisa. My tears had dried up, and now I just wanted some resolution to what I was feeling. I needed to find out if she loved me, or at least was in the process of falling in love with me. Or was this a foolish dream it was best for me to wake from now?

I reached for my phone and dialed Lisa’s number. When it started to ring, my doorbell rang at the same time. As I got up to answer the door, she answered her phone.

“Thank God you’re okay!” she said, relief flooding her tone. “I’m outside your place right now, ringing the doorbell.”

“I thought it might be you when the doorbell sounded. Just let me put something on and I’ll be there in a sec.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. For some reason she sounded upset, as if I’d hurt her feelings.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing. I’m out here when you get something on. But hurry. It’s hot already and it’s only a little after ten.”

She sounded hurt. Was it because I’d not been answering her calls? That had to be it, I thought. She’s hurt I ignored her calls.

Grabbing a robe, I put it on as I went to open the door for either the love of my life or the pain of it.

I opened the door, and she burst in, all in a frenzy. I could see instantly she was near tears.

“Why wouldn’t you answer my calls? Why did you have to get dressed before coming to let me in? Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?”

Okay, maybe it was more than not answering her calls. I now realized she might take what she saw as my sudden modesty for a rejection of what we’d done last night. In reality, I keep my air conditioner rather low and was chilled after getting out of my warm bed.

“No, you haven’t done anything wrong. I was just cold and needed a wrap,” I said. “And I’m starting to worry about some things, that’s all.”

“Do you regret what happened last night? I thought you were really into it, even though I was worried at first that you might fire me, especially after I told you about my sister and me.”

“No, hon, I don’t…regret…anything. And what you do with your sister, well, it makes me rather hot to think about it, so no, there’s no problem there.. I just…Oh, God, I hope you don’t hate me after today.”

“Hate you? Why would I hate you? Are you firing me?”

“No, but you might quit when I say what I have to say. Or you might be happy. I don’t know.”

Confusion spread over her face. And fear. Her eyes welled up.

“We have to talk,” I said. Deadly words whenever uttered, and the import of it was not lost on Lisa. The welling of tears began to spill over those precious eyelids and down the beautiful skin of her cheek.

I took her hand and led her to the sofa. “What is it? Whatisit, whatisit, whatisit?!” she cried as we sat, my left knee touching her right one so we could look into each other’s eyes while sitting there.

“Sweetie, yesterday afternoon. That was planned, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, God! You are gonna fire me!”

“No, I’m not going to fire you, but I do want you to tell me the truth. You planned that, didn’t you?”

She nodded, looking down at her hands with tears spilling into her lap.

“Why did you want to masturbate with me?”

She looked at me as if I’d asked why she thought water was wet. “Because.” I waited for her to finish her reply. “Because…you’re so…hot.”

“I’m wondering if maybe you launched a boat you’d prefer not to launch.”

She furrowed her brows at me. She was confused again, and I didn’t blame her. I was doing some major beating around the bush.

“Huh? What does that mean?”

“I mean you may have set some things in motion you didn’t intend to set in motion.”

“Like what?”

Here it was. Another honesty moment. I wasn’t very good at these types of confrontations, but apparently I’m improving through repetition.

“Don’t hate me, okay?”

“Stop saying that. I won’t hate you,” she said. “I could never hate you.” Her voice was strident with the need to make me see that.

“Then…don’t be afraid, okay?”

“What is it, Cheryl?! You’re scaring the hell outa me by not saying what’s bothering you so much you won’t answer my calls!”

Here goes nothing. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Her countenance altered immediately. It was as if I’d slapped her. Oh, God. This wasn’t going to go well at all.

“You’ve never had anyone fall in love with you before, have you?” she asked. Her voice was so soft I barely heard her.

I just stared for a moment, wondering what that had to do with anything. I was the one falling in love with her. How could someone else falling in love with me before have anything to do with this? I suddenly felt lost and the memory of my dream from the night before washed over me. I was once again searching for answers everyone seemed to know but wouldn’t share with me. All these emotions were bombarding me, and I wasn’t handling it well.

“You haven’t, have you?” she persisted.

“No, but what does–”

“God, you don’t know, do you?” Now her voice was rising again. She sounded upset again, but not sad upset. Angry upset. Or maybe not anger. Frustration, perhaps? I wasn’t sure.

“Know what?” I was the confused one now.

She sighed heavily, her teary eyes intent on mine.

“You don’t know the signs,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“What signs?” I may be dense, because I was growing more confused by the minute, and her words seemed perfectly clear to her.

“The signs of someone falling in love with you.”

“What does–” Then it hit me. God, I was dense. She was falling in love with me, and I hadn’t recognized the “signs” of the dance we had been engaged in. Well, I had recognized them, but I’d refused to believe them. Hadn’t I questioned myself last night about her feelings for me?

But I didn’t think I was worthy of her love, and that sudden realization, that epiphany, rocked me.

“How long have you known?” I asked.

“Which? That I was falling in love with you, or that you’re falling in love with me?”

“Let’s start with you falling in love with me.”

“Oh, God, since we left Kay’s hotel room yesterday after meeting her and her parents for the first time, at least. Maybe earlier. I at least knew I wanted to make love with you before that. I knew that two seconds after I met you.”

I smiled for the first time that day. A small one, but a smile nonetheless.

“You, too?” I asked, my smile growing into a smirk. That made her laugh a little as well.

“God, Cheryl! Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

“Tell me,” I answered, needing this boost to my ego so perhaps I would feel worthy of her love.

“You know how they say Helen of Troy was so beautiful she was ‘the face that launched a thousand ships’ because that many ships went to war to get her back? Well, yours could launch ten thousand. Fifty thousand! But to be honest, I would fight every damn sailor on those ships to keep you for my own.”

I was stunned. Nobody had ever said anything close to that to me before. My heart was pounding, and my breath was ragged, as if I were drowning in my own emotions.

Now she was starting to cry again. “I’m not falling in love with you, Cheryl. I am already in love with you. I know it’s crazy because we just met a few days ago, but it’s true. So do me a favor, okay? When you decide you no longer think you’re falling in love with me but are actually in love with me, let me know, okay? Because I’m so in love with you, it hurts sometimes wondering if you will ever love me.”

Putting her face in her hands, she burst into sobs. My heart broke to see her like this, and I realized the moment of knowing I had fallen completely head-over-heels in love with her was right then.

I pulled her into my arms and held her, shushing her much the same way I had last night when she’d cried for concealing her relationship with her sister from me. I began my confession of love, complete with apologies.

“I’m sorry, baby. I do love you. I love you so much it hurts me too. I’m sorry. I was just so scared. I’ve never felt like this before, and it scared me. Mostly it scared me that you didn’t love me back. Oh, honey, I am so sorry for hurting you. I love you more than breathing….” And on I went, telling her of my intense love.

Her crying eased, and she pulled back from me to look me in the eyes. “You really love me?”

I nodded, tears making tiny rivers down my cheeks.

“Really, REALLY?”

I laughed through the tears. “Yes, my love. Really, REALLY.”

She kissed me with all the passion a girl of sixteen can show, which is quite a bit, usually more than older, supposedly more mature women can bring into their kisses.

I realized my pussy was on fire. It may have been that way for some time now, but I hadn’t noticed what with the emotional roller coaster I’d been riding that morning taking most of my awareness with it.

I began pulling off my robe, and she was nearly ripping her clothes from her body. Neither of us could wait another second to be making love. She stood to remove her panties and I stood, grabbed her hand, and led her into my bedroom, a place she’d never been before, but that was going to change drastically over the coming months and years.

We lay on my bed and began to kiss wildly, tongues dueling in a dance of erotic and emotional love. She quickly moved to my neck, kissing me down the tender sides and along my collarbone where she detoured to my breasts.

Kiss.

Lick.

Nibble.

Suck.

Erect nipples straining for more.

Another kiss.

She repeated every movement of loving she could perform on my breasts, making wild love to them before she moved down to my tummy.

More kissing, nibbling, licking, and sucking.

Then she was there. At the juncture of my thighs, which were now trembling I needed her so.

Breath tickling.

Tiny kisses.

A lick.

Another.

A slight nibble on the clit.

Another.

Another.

Finger.

Fingers.

Plunging.

Urging.

G spot.

Yesss.

Grunts.

Racing my breath. Trying to catch it.

Trembling.

Shudders.

Spasms.

Groans.

Panting.

Moaning.

More spasms.

Ecstasy.

Followed by more spasms.

A second orgasm. A third. A fourth.

Then it was over for me. Sensitivity overwhelmed my pussy, and my hand instinctively moved to prevent more contact. Palm out…stop before I die of pleasure.

My mouth watered.

Laying Lisa back, I began my own assault of her body, finding every place I thought would heighten her lust. That’s what it was right now. All our love had manifested itself into lust for now. The power of the orgasms I’d had was representative of my intense love for her.

Soon,  my mouth was devouring her pocket of sensitive flesh, drinking from her fountain, and relishing the taste and heat of her. It took maybe ten seconds for her to come. Or maybe it took ten minutes. I couldn’t really tell. Time didn’t exist right then.

I was in love, and my lover wanted me as much as I wanted her. Maybe more so if that was possible.

Her writhing body rose to meet every thrust of my fingers, every touch of my tongue, every gentle nibble of my lips and teeth. She seemed to crash into her orgasm, as if rushing to meet the train that slammed into her. She bucked and shook, riding the wave, until finally, she too had to stop me from further assault of her body’s most tender area.

We lay naked in the bed together, looking into each other’s eyes until hunger for food forced us away from our lair. I arose and fixed us lunch, tuna on wheat toast and chips. I gave her a beer as well, signaling I didn’t think of her as a minor at all.

We ate the food, but mostly we consumed the love we had for each other.

“You will be my life partner, right?” I asked. Marriage between same-sex couples was still illegal then.

“Of course,” she said. And we kissed to seal the deal before moving into making love again, this time more slowly, less urgently.

We were young, and we now had the rest of our lives.

A note from the author:

Thank you for reading this story. When I began it, I didn’t plan for it to end this way at all, but as I said in my blog entry about writing, sometimes the story takes you along for the ride, and you just go where it leads. My original thought for the end involved being offered a full-time job as a nanny for the little ones in my first chapter, a sort of coming full-circle kind of thing. I suppose my recent wedding caused these last few chapters to happen the way they did. As I mentioned in my last chapter, this is not how Lisa and I met, and she was 18 then, not 16. Still, I want to let you in on some things so you don’t feel I have too much ego. I am referring to the part in which the fictional Lisa tells the fictional Cheryl “her” face would launch ten thousand ships or fifty thousand. My lovely girl actually said that to me as part of her wedding vows to me. (We wrote our own.) She and I have framed our vows, and I quoted her exactly. She says she’s not a writer, and that’s true, but when she’s speaking from her heart, she can melt mine. And I told her in my wedding vows that I love her more than breathing, which is appropriate. We love breathing without thinking about it. It is the same way I feel about Lisa. I love her as much as one can love life itself without having to think about it, though I would gladly cease breathing for her. Well, that’s the end of this series. I am so proud of myself for actually ending one. I may one day write a sequel, but this one is finished. As they say in journalism to indicate the end of a written piece, “That’s a 30.”

THE END