Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By JetBoy

During the course of the next week, things didn’t go as I’d hoped. My theory had been that these freaky thoughts about Lori were just part of a phase for me, something new and naughty and irresistible — but still, something I’d grow out of once the initial thrill wore off.

If anything, just the opposite happened. It was like being on drugs, and each high took more to reach than the one before it.

I’d watch Lori in the living room, playing with her set of handmade wooden alphabet blocks, the toy she liked best of all. She especially loved to arrange them in neat rows or stacks, though sometimes if a stack fell over, it would make her cry. Lori couldn’t use her blocks to spell words, but derived great pleasure from the shapes of the letters themselves, which she’d trace with her index finger, enthralled. It was a sight that always brought me joy.

Now I thought of interrupting my child’s play time to undress her, carry her to the couch and explore the wonders of her bare body. These thoughts buzzed about me like mosquitoes, refusing to be driven away.

As the days passed, my sexual dreams about Lori only grew in intensity. I began to picture my daughter and I making love in every way imaginable, immersing ourselves in pleasure like the most devoted of sex partners. I imagined her entering adulthood as my lover — a child in a woman’s body, her physical maturity only making our lust stronger.

I lay awake at night, wanting to tiptoe naked down the hallway to her room and slip into her bed. Then one night, that’s exactly what I did.

Rising silently from the bed, I slowly walked out of my room and padded down the hallway to where my little girl was sleeping soundly.

One thing about Lori: when she falls asleep, the house could come crashing down about our ears and still fail to rouse her. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but not by much. Sometimes she’ll doze off in front of the TV at night, lost in the wild whirl of sounds, colors and movement. But even when I carry Lori to bed, undress her and wriggle her into pajamas, she never opens her eyes.

Once inside her room, I could see Lori lying on her back in the dim glow from her Bambi night light. She was flat on her back, her mouth barely open, lost in slumber. God, she looked so cute and adorable! Barely nine years old, she was the most precious thing to me in the world. Now she was also the object of a taboo lust that seemed to consume me whole. All it took was one look at her angelic face, and my inner strength disappeared like morning dew in August.

I silently argued with myself. It wasn’t like I would ever actually hurt or abuse my daughter, after all. I only wanted to shower Lori with love, to be more intimate with her than I’d been in the past. Was that really so wrong? Seeing her childish body tucked up in bed, so safe and secure, my feelings of innocent love and guilty desire grew confused, knotting together into this fierce need that made me ache inside.

But fear and shame finally outweighed my lust — and that was what drove me from her room and back to mine.

I crawled into bed, still naked, then slipped a hand between my legs, where my swollen clit begged to be touched. The erect nubbin sent a surge of raw heat through me when my finger brushed it.

It wasn’t like I’d never been in her room naked before, it was just that I’d never been in her room naked with a purpose. What I really wanted was to be in bed with her, for Lori to be nude along with me, our bodies pressed snugly together. More than that… I wanted to kiss her.

Sure, I had fantasies that went a lot further than that, a lot further. But wanting to kiss her was becoming more than just a fantasy. Not a typical mother-daughter peck on the cheek, mind you. No, I wanted to part my lips, slip my tongue into her mouth and kiss my child with all the passion that burned inside me.

Suddenly I wrenched myself into a fetal position, squeezing a hand tightly between my thighs, cunt aching from the perverted hunger I felt. Had I become some kind of mindless animal, slave to my sexual appetite? Was this the type of woman, the type of mother that I really was? Right then, I was too far gone to feel the tug of conscience. Swaddled in the blankets, I began to masturbate furiously.

So engrossed was I with my twisted fantasy that I didn’t notice the little figure entering my room. It wasn’t until I felt the covers being tugged that I opened my eyes, shocked to see little Lori standing at the edge of the bed, gazing at me.

Of course, she would have no idea what I was doing to myself under the covers, and certainly not a clue about why I was doing it. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel guilty, almost like I when I was caught fingering myself by my mom back when I was twelve. Except I hadn’t been indulging in fantasies of sex with a little girl in those days…

Lori paused, standing motionless, uncertain of herself.

“It’s okay… come here, baby,” I said, reaching out to her. Lifting the covers, I gestured her underneath, and she happily complied.

Lori climbed in bed with me, still cradling her stuffed bear under one arm, and we snuggled together. The fact that I was naked didn’t seem to even register with the child as she spooned me, pressing her back and bottom up against my breasts and belly. Wrapping an arm around her, I pulled Lori tightly into me, nuzzling her tousled hair.

Suddenly I was on the verge of tears as I held my darling daughter close. She was already asleep once again, safe and secure in Mommy’s arms. Was she really safe, though? Would any sane person allow a little girl to be alone in bed with a naked woman who ached to take her as a lover?

I’d always seen myself as a good mother, even during those times when Lori’s handicap was especially frustrating. What had happened to me since then? Was it the fault of the internet — or was that just an excuse to release a desire for lesbian incest that I’d unconsciously carried around with me for years?

And why was my pussy getting wet?

I had to stay in control of myself, to keep from doing anything to my child that a mother shouldn’t. Well, that noble intention lasted all of about two minutes as I felt Lori’s warm little body pressed snugly against mine.

I found myself wishing that she wasn’t wearing her pajamas. Really, since I’m naked, why shouldn’t Lori be naked too? She’d be more comfy, I bet.

With that excuse spurring me on, I reached around Lori’s chest to unbutton her top and carefully extracted her arms from it, then tossed the garment to one side, leaving her bare-breasted — although that description hardly applied to a girl of nine.

Lori stirred, but made no effort to resist me as I slid her pajama bottoms down and off her thin little legs, followed by the plain cotton panties she always wore.

My little girl and I were now completely bare, nestled together under the covers — and my excitement had risen to fever pitch.

We had bathed together many times in the past, but that had felt nothing like this. Back then, even when I washed Lori’s flat chest or her smooth slit, I hadn’t thought of her in sexual terms. After all, that would have been perverted; or at least it would have been to the woman I used to be. That person was gone, replaced by someone I scarcely recognized. This woman felt a little girl’s bare body against her own, and began to respond.

My good sense hadn’t retreated entirely. I heard it; entreating me in the distance, telling me to stop now before I did something that could never be undone. But as I caressed Lori’s smooth legs that voice grew fainter and fainter, until finally it was finally silenced by my own rationalizations.

The questions spun through my head like thrown coins. Was it really so bad to touch my daughter like this? How could it be immoral for a mother to share pleasure with her little girl? Why should I hold back from expressing my true feelings for Lori? Just because she was only nine, did that mean she couldn’t enjoy making love? She was my daughter, after all, so who had the right to tell me what I could and could not do with her? I adored Lori and would never hurt her; why shouldn’t we be intimate?

Step by step, I convinced myself that what I wanted to do with Lori wasn’t evil. My feelings of guilt melted away, replaced by the most incredibly intense feelings of sexual love for my child. I had never felt like this about anyone before, even my husband. Especially my husband.

It was almost animal-like; raw instinct triumphing over rational thought. It was the purest emotion a mother could have, I decided, this need to be close to my little girl in every conceivable way. I was a loving parent, God damn it, not a pervert. How could my love be wrong?

The die was cast; my decision made.

My hand glided up Lori’s thigh until I was caressing her thin hips, then moved to cover her tummy. I paused to rub her there, and a tiny contented sigh escaped my baby’s lips. Slowly, ever so slowly I continued on, making my way down Lori’s body until I was cupping her vulva. I really wasn’t playing with her, just letting a hand rest on the rise of my daughter’s mound.

My heart raced as I awaited Lori’s response. Would she push my hand away? Would she enjoy this?

Actually, there was no response from her at all. I saw her eyes blink; that was all. What was she thinking? I wished she could tell me. My poor child’s stunted vocabulary wasn’t sufficient to describe what she must have been feeling at that moment. What I would have given to hear Lori speak right then; to tell me in her halting voice that she liked my touch, and wanted me to keep fondling her.

Much as I longed to explore her bare slit, I let my hand move back up her thin body, over her belly and to her smooth, flat chest. I teased her tiny nipples with my fingertips, trying to remember how it felt to touch myself there when I was her age. My mother had certainly never caressed me this way!

Suddenly, I wondered what I would have done if she had. If my mom had tried to make love to me, would I have responded in the way she wanted?

The idea really turned me on, so I suspected that, yes — my mother could have had me as a lover if she’d tried. Clearly, this craving for lesbian incest ran deep in me.

I continued to caress my baby’s chest. Someday Lori would ripen into womanhood and leave this little-girl frame behind, though her mind would always be that of a child. I imagined the two of us sharing a life as lovers; watching her grow, continuing to pleasure her with my mouth and fingers along the way.

Lori was beginning to shift about as I caressed her, so I relaxed the arm I had around her waist, allowing her to move more freely. I half-expected her to pull away. To my delight, she turned herself around to face me instead. I drew her up into my arms once more and she nestled into me, her face pressed against my breasts. I recalled how lovely it had felt when she fed from those same breasts as an infant.

I traced paths down her back with my fingertips, unable to resist going a little lower with each stroke until I was fondling her bare bottom. My body throbbed like an idling engine as I gently squeezed it, savoring the tightness of her pert little cheeks.

Lori squirmed a bit as I allowed my fingers to trail through her anal cleft. It didn’t seem to bother her; In fact, she snuggled even deeper into me. I could only imagine how she might respond if I began to pleasure her for real.

Still, I didn’t want to frighten her with too much, too soon, so I took my hand away from my child’s bottom and began to stroke her back again. After awhile, we both drifted off.

Before I knew it, the alarm clock was yammering: time to get Lori up and off to school. I reluctantly — oh God, how reluctantly — disentangled myself from Lori’s embrace, hoisted myself into a standing position, then shambled into the new day.

After a shower, a brisk rubdown with the towel and my morning cup of coffee, I gently awakened my child. Stretching her thin arms, Lori yawned, then clambered from the bed, still naked. My heartbeat quickened as I drank in the sight of my little girl wandering into the hallway, making her sleepy way to the bathroom.

Later that morning, watching Lori climb into the van that took her to the special school she attended, I found myself wondering if any of the other moms saw their little girls in those cute blue plaid uniforms and felt the same helpless longings as me. Did any of these suburban housewives dream of undressing their daughters; exploring the delights of their childish bodies?

I fixed breakfast — but instead of sitting down and eating, I found myself pacing the house like a caged beast. My head was filled with intensely sexual thoughts and images that seemed to grow stronger and more vivid by the moment. I was actually grateful for having to go to work, just to take me out of myself for a few hours.

That night, I managed to eat dinner and watch TV with my Lori without any change in our routine. I kept stealing glances at her, though, moving about the house or sitting next to me in a long t-shirt and panties, overwhelmed by thoughts like I wonder what she would do if I bent down and began kissing those sweet pale thighs? Anyhow, I got through the evening, eventually tucking my baby in without further incident.

In the middle of the night, I woke to feel something next to me. Reaching out, I recognized immediately what it was, and my heart began to race. Lori had crept into bed with me again. That wasn’t startling in itself. What did shock me was what was missing — her nightwear! She was completely naked!

I felt a wave of heat surge through me, and my heartbeat kicked into overdrive. My little girl had undressed completely before getting into bed with me, and now her warm, bare little body was pressed snugly against mine. My cunt was on fire.

In the cover of darkness I couldn’t see Lori, but certainly felt her there. And though I heard a faint cry of conscience, begging me to pull away now and stop this perverted lunacy, my hands had a mind of their own. I began to explore my child’s nakedness.

When I curled my arm around Lori, my hand slipped down her silky-smooth back until I was cupping the pert globes of her bottom. Surprising me, she wriggled her hips just a little as I held it. God, the little minx! It was if she was daring me to go further…

As if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, I felt my little girl nestle into me until she could reach around my waist — and just like that, she twined her arms about my body, reaching for, finding and fondling my ass!

Once I got past the initial thrill of being intimately touched by my little girl, it occurred to me that Lori was just mimicking my own actions, as she so often did — no different, really, from the way I would give her a few kitchen utensils to play with when I was cooking, just so she could follow along with me.

Except… she did seem to genuinely enjoy having her bottom caressed. Maybe she really was trying to return my affection, to make her mommy feel nice.

Either way my curiosity was aroused, along with my lust. Just what else would she imitate?

Still fondling my little girl’s rump, I allowed my free hand to drift upward, caressing Lori’s flat chest, pausing to toy with her tiny nipples, lightly brushing them with the tips of my fingers. Was it only my imagination, or did they stiffen slightly to my touch?

Sure enough, my little copycat began to mimic my actions, her hands seeking my breasts. She cupped them, felt their weight and heft, then grasped my nipples between finger and thumb — getting the feel of something new and interesting, just as a child naturally would. And it felt marvelous.

Just a few days earlier, the very idea of my nine-year-old daughter fondling me that way would have been unthinkable. At that moment, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, my little girl and I touching each other, exploring like two kids playing doctor.

It was lovely, truly lovely — but I was already hungry for more.

I gently drew Lori’s face toward my breasts, pressing a throbbing nipple against her lips. Then, wonder of wonders, I felt her lips part for me, and my baby gingerly took the tip of my breast into her warm mouth and began to suck. A wave of joy surged through me, so powerful that I longed to cry out to the heavens.

She nursed on my nipples; first the left one, then I gently guided her to the right. God, did Lori have any idea at all how good she was making me feel?

By then, the darkness of the room was maddening. I had to see this.

Reaching back, careful not to take my breast away from Lori’s mouth, I reached for the reading lamp on my nightstand, Taking hold of the switch, I twisted it on to the low setting. Looking down, I saw my daughter’s eyes, briefly blinking up at me before she returned her attention to my breasts.

Aware as I was of what was happening at that moment, the sight left me dizzy with excitement. This was no longer a crazy fantasy. My little girl was in my arms, naked and nursing from me. I was on the verge of truly possessing my child, making her my lover.

I felt a coolness on my left nipple as Lori released it from the heat of her mouth. With a contented sigh, she nestled into me, and I cradled her in my arms. Burying my face in her honey-brown hair, I breathed in its sweet smell, placed a few small kisses in the silken strands, then let them stray to her forehead.

Lori tilted her face up toward mine, silently encouraging me to continue. She’d always loved being kissed by me… well, now Mommy was going to teach her little girl a whole new way to kiss.

I let my lips lightly brush her eyes, cheeks, the tip of her nose, then a feather-light peck on Lori’s mouth. I whispered, “I love you, baby girl,” then kissed her once more, allowing the kiss to linger for a few seconds..

Drawing back, I studied my child’s face for signs of puzzlement or distress, but her gaze was perfectly tranquil. Giving her a warm smile, I moved in once more to claim Lori’s mouth with mine. This time I parted my lips, languidly brushing them against hers in a very sensual way, then traced her lower lip with a soft flick of the tongue. Lori’s eyes briefly opened, then drifted shut once more.

I seduced my little girl with kisses, made gentle love to her mouth. And soon, bless her, Lori began to respond — timidly at first, but oh, how my heart sang when her bashful tongue first engaged with mine!

I met the child’s passion and raised it, coaxing her into deeper, hungrier kissing. She quickly got the idea, enthusiastically joining me in this fun new game.

At first it really was like a game to her, too — I felt my baby girl’s childish delight as our tongues playfully sparred and mingled together. But since Lori so seldom used language to communicate, I’d taught myself to be hypersensitive to shifts in her moods… and I could sense when our kissing became more than just fun to her.

She began to kiss me back with what seemed to me like a steadily mounting passion, finding and savoring the pure pleasure in this sensual dance of lips and tongues. Soon my little Lori and I were Frenching like lovers.

I tried to still the trembling of my hand as I reached down between Lori’s thighs, and she seemed to almost instinctively part them, causing me to wonder if she understood what I was up to. Was it possible that, on some level, my poor autistic daughter had some primal understanding of sex?

Once again, I was cupping my little girl’s sweet bare pussy. This time, however, I intended to fondle Lori until she came, if that was possible. Can a nine-year-old even experience an orgasm? I asked myself.

I wasn’t going to stop at simply caressing my child’s vulva, not then. My index finger began to glide up and down her slit, then I allowed the tip to gently inch into Lori’s vagina.

Later I would look back and realize that this moment, more than any other, was when our relationship of mother and child truly became something more. Yes, I’d touched Lori in ways that some people might’ve thought inappropriate, but nothing that would have gotten me arrested.

That was about to change, the law be damned. There was a line bordering the calm, safe life I’d been living and the realm of complete abandon, and this mom was going to cross it.

My finger eased deeper into my little girl’s pussy, at least up to the second knuckle. It was incredibly tight, but Lori was already moist enough for her sex to allow me entry — could that mean she was experiencing sexual stimulation?

The tip of my finger was gently pressing against the thin barrier of her hymen. I wasn’t ready to take my daughter’s virginity, though the idea of being her first fuck make me shiver deliciously.

Lori was gazing up at me, a hint of curiosity in those placid blue eyes… no doubt wondering why Mommy was touching her this way. To reassure my child, I began to place tickly little kisses on her cheeks, nose, chin, eyelids. Then when my lips brushed hers, she startled and thrilled me by wrapping both arms around my neck and clutching me tightly. Lori’s mouth opened, her tongue emerging to engage mine.

We kissed with a joyous, fierce passion that had my head reeling.

As I made love to Lori, it seemed impossible that I could actually be doing such a thing; fingering my little girl’s slit like some perverted sex fiend. Well, maybe that’s what I was. One thing for certain: never before in my life had I been so aroused, every atom of me simmering with lust. But this raw heat was tempered and sweetened by the all-consuming adoration I felt for my daughter. The very blood in my veins seemed to sing with love.

Proceeding as cautiously as possible, I worked my finger about inside Lori; making tiny circles. Her eyes widened in surprise; a small gasp escaped her lips. Then she slowly sank back into the pillow, allowing these strange new sensations to carry her wherever they would.

With my thumb, I sought out my child’s tiny clit and lightly stroked it. A delicate, barely-there caress; soft as a butterfly kiss.

Lori seized my arm. “Uhhhh… uhhh…” my daughter moaned, suddenly breathing hard and clearly agitated.

I immediately froze, afraid I’d gone too far. But little Lori, bless her soul, shook her head frantically as it to say No — don’t stop, don’t! Placing her free hand on mine, she firmly pressed it against her bare vulva.

A wave of joy suffused me, so intense that I nearly came right then. My baby girl loved this, wanted me to give her more.

So I did. My finger resumed its circling inside Lori’s vagina, my thumb brushed the nubbin of her clitoris. She relaxed again, this time giving me a dreamy smile and a nod of the head.

I masturbated my ten-year-old daughter, gradually leading her to the point of release. Her breathing grew ragged, and her eyes were soon glazed over with pleasure. Occasionally Lori would pat my wrist, clearly encouraging Mommy to continue.

Before long she was making soft mewling sounds, her slender body beginning to quiver as if she was growing restless. Right then, I knew she was anything but.

Suddenly Lori went bone-rigid, eyes huge, her hand gripping my wrist instead of patting. A gurgling cry escaped her throat — and I knew that my little girl was having her first orgasm.

For most women, there’s no experience on God’s green earth that matches the rapture of coming, but when you’ve never had one before, especially at the touch of another, the moment can be terrifying. I felt a quick twinge of worry that my child might feel frightened by what she was going through, and began to place soft little kisses on her face, trying to reassure my daughter while continuing to masturbate her.

She wasn’t scared, though. In fact, Lori tilted her face up to mine and began to shower me with clumsy kisses of her own, stolen in the midst of her rapture. My fingers remained busy, fondling my baby girl’s increasingly juicy slit.

Finally a deep shudder raced through my daughter’s body, her voice rising to a squeak; then she went limp in my embrace.

We lay together in blissful silence, my hand resting motionless upon Lori’s vulva. I could feel the still-frantic thrumming of her pulse, gradually slowing.

After awhile she turned to me, draping a leg over mine as she rested her face on my breasts, giving them a few sleepy kisses. I touched my lips to the child’s slightly damp forehead.

Then something happened that I’ll remember to my dying day. Lori raised her face and, giving me a dreamy smile, said, “Mo-mommy… g-g-good.” Her head dropped to my shoulder, that smile still adorning her sweet lips as she fell asleep.

I shed a few tears of purest joy, cradling my daughter to me as she slumbered peacefully, our naked bodies nestled together. I felt such love in my heart for her, stronger than life itself.

*****

Each night after that, Lori came to my bed naked, slipping beneath the sheets and into my arms, ready to play this wonderful new game. I thought it best to let her take the initiative, to be the one who decided if we would make love or not. We would start out with kisses and caresses, then go further, a little more each time.

As the week progressed I showed her how to fondle me and explore my cunt, where to touch me to make those magical feelings happen. On the fourth night, I taught Lori how to get her entire hand inside, and she fucked me to a glorious orgasm.

It wasn’t until the next night that I got the courage to lick my daughter for the first time. She’d been sucking my nipples when I gently rolled her onto her back, put one hand on each knee and spread her thighs apart. I could see the questioning look on her face as I lowered my head to Lori’s vulva and let my tongue lightly caress the baby-smooth cleft of her vagina. This time she immediately understood what I was doing, and spread her legs wide for me, welcoming the touch of Mommy’s mouth.

What a beautiful experience that was, going down on my little girl. The taste of her was ambrosial, all I’d dreamed of and more. I licked her pretty pussy until she cried out loud, her hands tangling in my hair as I brought her to ecstasy, then beyond.

Of course, my little angel had to mimic everything I did, so no sooner had I raised my face from between Lori’s legs than she was sitting up, pointing at my sex, stammering “M-m-me!” making it clear in her way that she wanted to lick me too. How could I refuse?

There was something so fucking erotic about seeing Lori sprawled out before me, tenderly kissing my pussy. I’d shown her where my clit was and she already knew how great it felt to be touched there, so it didn’t take long for my little girl to bring me to a wall-shaker of a climax.

Two years later, Lori and I are still lovers. She gets so much happiness from pleasing her mommy, and I adore making her feel good as well.

She will often come to me naked while I’m reading, washing dishes, or folding laundry, and give me that special look, letting me know that my baby girl is in the mood for love. Her hand will find its way beneath my t-shirt to cup a bare breast, or into the gym shorts I usually wear around the house these days. Never with panties, unless I’m on my period. I want my daughter to have access to her mommy’s body whenever she feels the urge.

Just moments ago, as I was typing in the last few sentences of this story, Lori padded into my room, her body completely bare, that warm light glowing in her eyes. I sat back in my chair, gazing contentedly at my daughter as she began to caress my pussy. Our mouths slowly drifted together, and we shared a long, gentle lover’s kiss.

I took Lori by the hand and led her to my bed. Once there, I quickly undressed, then lay back, open for my little angel. I always let her pleasure me first — she preferred it that way. Kneeling between my parted legs, Lori gave me the sweetest smile. It nearly always made me feel a little like crying, seeing how much my precious daughter loved to love me.

Propping myself up on both elbows, I watched as my little girl leaned forward and began to lick my pussy. It was an incredible sight — one that, coupled with the skill of Lori’s sexy mouth, soon had me moaning in pure bliss, lost in an orgasm that seemed as if it might never end.

Soon as I could draw a steady breath, I raised my little girl up and kissed her full on the lips. The taste of my cunt on her mouth made my heart race with excitement. I gently laid Lori down, burrowed between my daughter’s thighs, and licked her until she came.

The End