Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cheryl Taggert

For assistance in keeping up with all the characters, you can go here.

Monica Duncan had not slept well the night before. She’d gotten home from the orgy and had lain awake until well after midnight. Now it was early morning, only 7:34, and she awoke after only a few hours of sleep. She knew she’d have to take a short nap at some point that day, but she’d been thinking so much about the orgy and all the new relationships she now had that she hadn’t slept much.

She turned over and continued replaying the images that would not go away. She thought about all of the naked girls and women and how much fun she’d had. She was aware that her pussy was juicing up, but she didn’t want to do anything about it right then because of the soreness. Prior to yesterday, she had never masturbated for longer than about half an hour. The orgy had resulted in almost constant stimulation for nearly two hours, not to mention the little rub-off she’d enjoyed in the restroom at the mall while listening to Susan and Becca getting it on.

As she lay in bed now, she thought back and tried to count the orgasms she’d had yesterday. She thought the number was five, but if she were honest with herself, she wasn’t precisely sure. There had been some small ones that seemed to tremble and shake for a little while before the feeling receded, as if drawing back into her pussy, before returning like the tide, and she wasn’t sure they counted as orgasms or not. If they were, she wasn’t sure how to count them.

Of course, she wasn’t aware of the meaning of those trembling shivers, but she would later realize they were the onset of her affair with a type of multiple orgasm she grew to call “riding the wave.”

Because she was getting hornier by the minute and too sore to do anything about it, she decided to get up and take a shower before beginning her day. She wondered if she would remain horny all day, but after the shower, she had calmed down considerably.

After showering, Monica went to the kitchen to find something to eat for breakfast. Her mom was already up and drinking coffee while reading some book, and as Monica sat down with her cereal, her mom engaged her in conversation. In other words, it was turning out to be a typical morning.

Except Monica was no longer her typical self. Sex now permeated her brain, soaking into her conscious mind like syrup into pancakes. She looked down at her bowl and thought, or like milk into corn flakes.

As she talked to her mom about what she wanted to do with her summer, she began to wonder about her mom’s sex life. She’d never really thought about that before. In fact, the idea had been rather gross up to that point. However, as she looked at her mom and chatted, she realized her mom was a very pretty woman. And sexy.

Her parents had been divorced for about three years now, and her mom didn’t date at all. Monica suddenly realized that she was certainly no virgin and would have been used to some sort of sex life when she’d been married. Monica found herself wondering what her mom did for sex. Monica herself wasn’t able to go without an orgasm for more than three or four days at the most, so she was probably having to do something to come. That’s when Monica realized it. Her mom probably did the same things she herself usually did to come: masturbate.

Because she’d never thought about her mother in this way, Monica never stopped to wonder about her sex life. Was it possible she “did the dirty solo” in bed at night, just like her? Maybe she has a secret lover, she thought. Monica immediately dismissed that idea, though. She didn’t really have time for that, unless she was sneaking away from work or something, and she couldn’t imagine her mom doing that either.

She looked at her mom sitting there with her coffee, sipping, reading, and making an occasional remark. She was only twenty-nine. She’d gotten pregnant at sixteen, had Monica at seventeen, and married Monica’s dad two months later. She had even confessed to Monica that she’d been a “wild child” when she was a teenager. “Wild child” meant her mom had obviously discovered sex at a young age.  Her mom had told her that the one thing she’d never done was drugs, so what else was there to make a girl into a “wild child” as a teen? Monica knew that no matter what happened in her own life, she would always enjoy the feel of her own fingers in her pussy, so why would her mom be any different?

“What’s wrong?” Ashley asked, looking at Monica with raised eyebrows.

“Huh? Oh, nothing,” Monica answered, wondering what had brought on that question, but feeling too uncomfortable with what she’d been thinking to ask about it.

Mom told her anyway. “You were blushing.”

“I was?” Monica could feel herself blushing more.

“Yeah. You feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just sort of got a hot flash or something.”

Her mom laughed at that. “You’re too young for hot flashes.”

Monica had no idea what her mom was talking about. “What d’you mean?” she asked her.

“When women go through menopause, they have hot flashes.”

“Oh.” It was all she could think to say.

“Don’t let it bother you, honey. I’m just teasing. I’m not old enough either, and I sometimes have a hot flash or two,” her mom said, grinning and looking a bit odd, as if remembering something she didn’t want to share.

A few days before, perhaps, Monica would not have grasped what her mom was thinking about, but now she understood the sexual innuendo, maybe because she had been thinking of her mom’s sex life.

“Moooomm!” she said, still playing the grossed-out daughter even if she no longer felt that way about her mother’s sexuality.

“What?” her mom asked, still grinning but her expression indicating she was surprised her daughter had gotten the joke.

“You know perfectly well what.”

Ashley Duncan looked at her daughter. Had she really understood? She had to remind herself that Monica was twelve now, and jokes about sex were probably all over school. She thought suddenly about when she had been in seventh grade. She’d been coming for two years by then. Was it possible? Was her little girl already having orgasms? She decided to playfully tease her some more.

“Why, Monica Duncan, I have no idea what you mean,” she said, still grinning and starting to blush some herself.

Monica decided to go for it. She thought, what the hell, and said, “You were talking about sex. I could tell.”

For some reason she couldn’t explain, Ashley decided to pursue this line of conversation to see how far it might go. Perhaps she could end up having the type of open relationship with her daughter she herself had always wished she’d had with her own mom.

“Is that why you were blushing? Your hot flash was a hot flash?”

Monica’s mother had never talked to her like this, but Monica decided she liked it. It made her feel grown up. She decided if her mom could say stuff like that to her, she could do the same back. “I’m not the only one who blushed. Does that mean you’re all hot and bothered, too?”

“Where did you hear a term like that? Hot and bothered?”

“School.”

“Oh, yeah, I forget sometimes. Seventh grade is all about being horny.”

Monica couldn’t believe her mom had used that word with her. “How would you know?” she asked.

“Because, my love, I was in seventh grade, too, you know,” Ashley said, still grinning.

Okay, now it was getting serious. Monica liked the conversation they were having, but it was also a little uncomfortable. Blushing again, she ducked her head and took a bite of cereal.

Ashley realized she’d embarrassed Monica a bit too much. She reached out and touched her on the arm, concern showing on her face and in her eyes. “Oh, honey. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It’s just that I’m not that old, and I remember how much we talked about sex when I was your age and…well… how we wanted to figure sex out in some way.”

Monica looked at her mom. “What do you mean, ‘figure sex out’?”

Ashely looked suddenly serious. “Sweetie, I, well, uhm…”

“What?” Monica asked. Was her mom going to tell her she had sex with a boy or something when she was in seventh grade?

“Honey,” Ashley said softly. “You, um, do know what masturbation is, don’t you?” Ashley could feel herself blushing even more. She was astounded she was about to talk about this, but somehow this is where the conversation had led. Or had she steered it?

“You mean you masturbated when you were in seventh grade?” Monica asked, unsure of herself while not believing this was where the conversation had gone. It had been exactly what she’d been thinking about just before getting caught blushing.

Ashley thought about not answering, then realized it would be the same as answering. “Uh, yeah, honey, I did…or do.” She paused, looking at Monica for a moment. “Don’t you?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

Monica couldn’t believe it. There it was. Her mom had admitted to masturbating when she was twelve. No, she’d actually changed the past tense to the present. She’d changed “did” to “do.” Then she had asked the question. No, not just the question, but THE question. To any girl her age, it was like being asked if she were a virgin.

Monica swallowed. She looked at her mom. She could feel her eyes wanting to look away, but refusing to at the same time. The she nodded.

Ashley timidly rubbed her daughter’s arm and smiled. This conversation had gone from joking to very serious in seconds. “It’s okay, honey. It’s perfectly natural. I never really thought about whether or not you did until just now. And I’ll be honest. I’m glad you do. I want you to know I don’t mind. There’s no need for shame or guilt. I always felt ashamed, guilty, as if I were doing something really bad. Each time I would…well…each time I had an orgasm, I felt as if I had done something terrible that I knew I couldn’t stop doing. I never want you to feel that way.”

“Oh.” Again, it was all Monica could think to say.

“Sorry,” Ashley said. “I’m making a lot of assumptions. I mean, well, um, do you, uh, have… you know…orgasms?”

Monica continued to look at her mother, who was looking directly into her eyes. The enormity of what she’d said, the liberating feeling from her words, washed over her. Monica knew she could tell her mother anything, just as she’d once told her she could.

“Yeah,” she admitted, wondering at the same time where that answer would lead.

“Good!” her mom said, smiling with what looked like enormous relief. “Some girls can’t, you know.”

Monica hadn’t known that. Her eyes widened. “Really?!”

“Really. I don’t think your grandmother ever did. She always thought sex was dirty.”

Monica thought about this. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she couldn’t come. Probably kill herself. She’d never met her grandmother. She and her mom had a big falling out when she’d gotten pregnant and they stopped talking. Her grandmother was dead now. She’d died of cancer when Monica was a baby.

“You don’t think it’s dirty, though, do you?” Monica asked, knowing the answer but needing reassurance anyway.

“No, honey. It’s natural. People are made to enjoy those feelings.”

“Mom?”

“What, sweetie?”

“You said…I mean…well…you said that, um, you did and changed it to do. Does that mean…?”

Ashley nodded at her daughter. Now that it was all out, they could talk more intimately about these things. “Yes, honey, I do. I did night before last, in fact.” Feeling a need to share, Ashley took both her daughter’s hands in hers. “What about you?”

“What about me…what?”

“When did you last do it?”

“Mom, that’s kinda personal.”

“I know, baby, but I just want to share with you. I feel this will make us grow closer.”

Monica realized she could not tell her about the orgy, of course, but she could fudge her answer a bit and still be accurate with what she was asking. “I did it yesterday.”

Ashley smiled at this. “This is going to change our relationship some. You don’t need to hide it anymore,” she said. “Not that I insist you do it in front of me or anything, or that I do it in front of you, but, well, what I guess I’m saying is that if you walk in on me or I walk in on you, we don’t need to be embarrassed about it. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Monica said, but wasn’t sure how she’d feel about walking in on her mom doing it or having her mother walk in on her. She supposed it would probably just stay the way it was. Still, it was good not to have to worry about being caught the way she always had been.

Their lives would at least change in that way, but probably not much more.

Of course, she couldn’t have been more wrong.

Continue on to Chapter 13