Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Jenna’s Big Secret

By Cheryl Taggert 

Dear Readers: If you read chapter 23 before I changed the ending, you may be expecting a male private detective. After some consideration, I decided to change “him” to a “her” to allow for, shall we say, more possibilities. I hope nobody minds the change. (Of COURSE you don’t!! Now, here is chapter 24. Enjoy!!)

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

Carmen decided to get dressed and go home before the private detective showed up. I wished her luck with getting together with her sister, and we sat in the kitchen at the breakfast bar to talk with Mom until the woman arrived.

“You girls need to be more careful about who knows about what the three of us do together. If someone tells, there are a lot of people who will have me convicted before the trial even starts. Crimes that involve sex are always big stories, and if the public knew that a porn star had seduced her own daughter at the age of six, our life as we know it would be over, even if I managed somehow to win the court case,” Mom said. She didn’t sound worried, exactly, since a lot of people from her work knew what we did together — and enjoyed the things I had learned — but I saw her point. She knew those who were aware of our private sex lives and knew they could be trusted; a ten-year-old girl she didn’t really know was a different story altogether.

“We won’t tell anyone else, Mom. I promise.”

It occurred to me that Deanna had known for a long time, but then again, she had enjoyed many sexual encounters with adults as well. I guess it was different if the girl had not engaged in that behavior.

I changed the subject back to this private detective Mom had hired.

“Who is this person?” I asked.

“Her name is Gwen Fremont. She comes highly recommended.”

“By who?” Jenna asked.

“Whom,” Mom corrected. I always thought it was funny how everyone thought women in porn were stupid, uneducated bimbos. If they were, my mom was certainly the exception.

“By whom?” Jenna said, putting emphasis on the correction.

“Bob,” Mom said. Bob was the guy who directed most of Mom’s movies. He was a nice man who was fine with everything I did when I visited Mom’s work. He was especially fine with the blowjobs I would give him.

I wasn’t sure how Bob knew this woman, but I trusted Mom in her decisions.

The doorbell rang, and I got up to answer it.

I was expecting some frumpy woman, heavy-set or more masculine than feminine. I had always pictured private eyes to be men. I know that is sexist of me, but I couldn’t help it. They always seemed to be men on TV.

What I found at our door was an attractive, raven-haired woman about my mother’s height (5′ 7″) and with a pretty smile that made her nose crinkle. To this day, I find this attractive in a woman. Her smile touched her eyes, and I fell in love with her at first sight. Of course, I was doing that a lot at age thirteen, but Gwen was definitely pretty. I wouldn’t call her gorgeous, but she was slim, with nicely shaped boobs that were obviously her own. (I could tell because they didn’t look like mountains sticking straight out from her chest.) She had a nice figure, with hips that flared from a trim waist. She was someone who kept herself in shape, and I appreciated that as well.

Of course, her profession probably had a lot to do with that.

“Are you Gwen Fremont?” I asked, doing my best to be polite.

“Yes, I am. And you are…?” She left the question hanging in the air.

“I’m Cheryl. C’mon in.”

I escorted her to the formal living room, where Mom had asked me to bring her before I went to let her in.

Mom stood when she entered and offered her hand for Gwen to shake. She shook it gently as Mom introduced herself and Jenna, ending with “I suppose you met Cheryl.” She pointed to the sofa. “Have a seat, please.”

Mom asked me to take Jenna and go watch some TV or something. I was about to protest and ask if we could stay when I saw Jenna and realized staying was the last thing on her mind. She was uncomfortable around adult strangers, though I wasn’t sure why, so I took her hand and we went to downstairs to the playroom.

When we got there, I decided it was time to talk to Jenna about her fear of adults she did not know. I thought it was silly, to be honest, and wanted to know what she was so afraid of. I wanted to be listening in on Mom’s and Ms. Fremont’s conversation about finding out what happened to Cindy, but Jenna’s fear had precluded that from happening.

“Jenna?” I asked.

“Yeah?” Jenna picked up the remote and turned the TV on to watch a cartoon or something else that might interest us.

“Why are you so nervous around adults you don’t know, even women? I’ve noticed that sometimes if you don’t know the person you act all scared or something. Why is that? They’re not going to hurt you, you know.”

“You don’t know that,” she answered. “Some people can hurt you. Some even have a plan to hurt you.”

I thought I understood now. Her mom had probably been killed, and this made her wary of strangers.

“You mean like with your mom?”

“Well, there’s that,” she said, pausing before continuing, “but there’s more.”

She stared down at the carpet. I had the feeling she was deciding something, making up her mind about something that had troubled her. The TV was muted, and she wasn’t even bothering to turn it up. The people on the screen continued moving their mouths and reacting to each other, but we knew nothing of their situation.

It occurred to me that I knew nothing really about Jenna’s situation. She had come to live with us against her will, wanting to stay with her mom, of course, but doing that would have probably ended up with her own death as well. We talked about sex and our favorite shows. Listened to the songs we liked and argued over which movie was better. We were like sisters in most ways.

But I really knew nothing of Jenna’s life before she arrived with her mom that dreadful night that had started so well.

“What is it, Jen-a-licious?” I asked, using my favorite pet name for her.

She looked at me and I saw she was crying. The tears had barely started, but now they were becoming a storm.

I moved closer to my baby sister and took her in my arms, holding her close and kissing her hair that smelled of lilac shampoo.

She continued to sob, and I wondered what door into her past I had opened to cause this. After about five minutes, she began to gain some control over herself to where she could talk.

“I–I was…raped,” she cried. “A man my mom knew raped me. I was only five. Mom didn’t do anything about it because she was scared of him. He used to come over sometimes and make me do things. Then, he brought this old woman over and she raped me too. I’ve been afraid of strangers ever since unless they are real friends of Mom or Mommy.” Jenna referred to my mom as “mom” and her mom as “mommy,” so I knew what she meant.

At first I tried to reason with her. “Mom knows Gwen.”

“No, she doesn’t. She just heard about her from Bob.”

Then, I realized what had happened to my little sister when she was just a little girl of five, and I got angry. My heart began to pound in my chest, hammering against my rib cage. I felt my blood seem to boil in my veins. It was the first time I ever wanted to find someone and kill him, not to mention the old woman, too.

All the sex I had ever had in my life was consensual. The men, the women, the girls — it didn’t matter who. I was in control of the situation at all times. The men knew my mom would kill the one who fucked me, so those encounters had remained oral in nature. Each encounter with each sexual partner was fun, sexy, and exciting. Each had been like a party just for me.

But this? Taking something from Jenna he had no right to take? Then bringing someone else in to do whatever she wanted, without Jenna’s consent and obviously frightening her terribly and getting away with it?

Tears of my own spilled down my cheeks, but they were tears of anger. So this was how this wonderful girl I had come to think of as my baby sister lost her hymen? I was going into a rage.

Standing, I stomped upstairs to the formal living room, where Ms. Fremont and Mom were still discussing aspects of Cindy’s disappearance.

As I entered the room, Ms. Fremont was saying, “So that’s the last time you saw her, when she left your house that night?”

Mom saw me and her eyes widened when she realized I was crying. “What is it?!” she asked, wondering what had happened that would cause me to burst in on them in tears. “Is Jenna okay?!”

“Not really,” I said, anger punctuating each word.

Mom walked up to me and, taking me gently by the shoulders and looking into my eyes, said, “What are you talking about? What happened?”

“When Ms. Fremont is finished finding out what happened to Cindy, she has another job to do for us.” This wasn’t a request. It was a demand. I wasn’t used to talking to my mother this way, but I was so incensed at what had been done to Jenna I wasn’t thinking very straight.

“What on earth are you talking about?!” Mom was looking at me when she said this, but then Jenna came into the room.

“It’s okay!” she was nearly screaming. “Really! It’s okay!” She had taken my arm and was trying to pull me out of the room and back downstairs.

Mom looked at Ms. Fremont and apologized. “I’m sorry. Would you give me a minute? I’ll be back in a flash.” With that, Mom herded us into the kitchen, seating us at the breakfast bar.

“What is this all about?”

“Nothing,” Jenna started, but Mom wouldn’t have it.

“This may be a lot of things, but ‘nothing’ isn’t one of them. Out with it!”

“Jenna was raped when she was five,” I said. There. It was out there, ready to be dealt with.

Mom looked at Jenna, her mouth agape, sorrow and compassion in her eyes.

“Is this true?” she asked. “Did someone…” she paused, “rape you?”

Jenna started sobbing again, and Mom basically had her answer.

“Who was it?” Mom asked.

“A man who knew Cindy,” I said since Jenna wasn’t able to talk right then. “He raped her and even brought an old woman over to rape her as well. Cindy was too afraid of the man to do anything about it.” A thought occurred to me. “Hey! Maybe he’s the one we’re looking for after all? Maybe he knows what happened to Cindy! He may have even done something to her himself!”

“Cheryl, don’t let your imagination run away with you. We’ll see to this in the morning. Take Jenna and the two of you get your bath. I’ll have supper ready when you finish. I’ll handle this.” She looked at Jenna and folded her in her arms. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry this happened to you. I promise we won’t let this man get away with it. I know people and if your mom knew him, we’ll find him. He won’t do this to any more little girls. I promise.”

Jenna stepped back from Mom’s embrace. She was not happy about this but had no choice. It was out now, and it would be dealt with. Putting my arm around her shoulder, which she reluctantly accepted, we went to her room and undressed for a bath.

After running a tub of hot water, we stepped in and sat down. I was leaning against the end of the tub away from the faucet, and Jenna sat between my legs. I knew this wasn’t a time for sex. It was a time for comforting, a moment for cuddling with my little sister. The sex could come later when I took her to bed to sleep with me. I wasn’t going to leave her to sleep alone tonight — maybe not for a while, in fact.

I soaped her all over, making her lift her legs one at a time. Then I washed her belly and chest before moving to her back. After that, I let her scoot down to rinse off the suds. Then I had her stand and I soaped her pussy and butt. I smiled up at her as I did this, and she smiled back. It was the first smile I’d seen since leaving the kitchen to let Ms. Fremont in.

“I love you. You know that, don’t you?” I asked.

“Yeah.” She seemed to be in thought again as she paused. “I love you, too. A whole lot.”

She sat facing me to rinse the soap from her butt and pussy. She scooted closer to me and put her arms around my neck. Pulling me close, she kissed me. The kiss lasted long enough to cause both our pussies to begin to get slippery from our juices. I knew it was happening to me, at least, and as it turned out, it was happening to Jenna too.

“Can I wash you?” she asked, a wicked grin forming on her lovely face.

I couldn’t understand then how she could move so quickly from extremely upset to moderately horny. It wasn’t until I grew up that I realized that kids are like rubber balls. They bounce back easily.

I smiled and nodded in response to her question. Soon, she was lathering my boobs, pinching my nipples and overall getting me hornier by the second. When she had me stand to wash my pussy and butt, she took considerably longer at that task than I had taken with her.

Her soapy fingers glided across my skin, squeezing my butt cheeks, tickling my butthole, inserting a finger just a little bit, then moving to my pussy, where her hands explored me as if she’d never touched me there before.

I was getting close when Mom stepped into the bathroom.

“Well, I guess you two are feeling better,” she said before adding. “Dinner’s ready.”

“What are we having?” I asked.

“Salmon, with mashed potatoes and green beans.”

“YAY!” Jenna said.

“Can I come first?” I asked Mom.

“No, you can’t come in that way, but you can come eat your dinner. Then we can all pile into my bed and have fun.”

I was on edge the entire time we ate. I love salmon, but my pussy was tingling the entire time.

Afterwards, we cleaned up the dishes and went into Mom’s room, where we did exactly as she suggested we could. We piled on her bed to have fun.

“Let me watch you two first,” Mom said, as she lay back against her pillows that were propped on the headboard of the bed frame.

I moved to Jenna and pushed her back against the plush mattress. I began to kiss and lick my way down from her mouth to her toes. I skipped her small nipples and, more importantly, her pussy. Then turning her over, I started again at her toes and worked my way up. I did dip my tongue into the crevice to touch her butthole and spread her legs a bit to lick her slit that was open to me, but I didn’t linger there. I moved up her back to her neck, which I licked and kissed until my baby sister was moaning with need.

At that point I began moving down the front of her body again, this time stopping at her nipples and tasting them. Then I moved down to her pussy, which I devoured happily and greedily. Then turning her over, I lifted her butt so she was on her knees, but her face was still lying on the mattress. It gave me perfect access to her butthole and pussy. I licked her and tongued her clit and butthole until she was squirming.

I looked over at Mom, and she had three fingers of one hand pistoning in and out of her pussy, while her other hand was occupied with her clit, massaging it to the point of coming, but not quite that far. I could tell she was waiting for Jenna, at least, to come, before we both fell on her to bring her to orgasm.

Jenna was whimpering with the need to come, so I concentrated on her delicious little clit, licking that small nubbin of flesh until she began to come. She screamed and gasped as the orgasm took her on its wonderful ride.

When she’d finished coming, I moved to Mom and put my mouth on her pussy. Jenna moved over to us, but instead of licking Mom or anything, she glued her mouth to my mound, kissing and tonguing me there. I thought I would blast off immediately, but I managed to hold off long enough to bring my mother off with me.

Soon, we were both gasping and moaning as we each rode our climax to its conclusion.

Lying there afterwards, we talked a bit, explaining to Jenna that we would protect her at all costs. We vowed to never give up the search for the man who had done that to her. Mom filled us in on what Gwen would be doing, which basically meant trying to find anyone who knew her to interview them about Cindy…her habits, her hobbies, anything that might provide a lead, as well as looking into the people who “owned” her.

Then we gathered our strength once again before moving on to round two, which would lead to a round three. Jenna and I didn’t go to my room until around 9:30 that night, over an hour-and-a-half after we had tumbled into Mom’s bed for our lovemaking.

“You okay?” I asked, still concerned about Jenna.

“Yeah. Sorry I lost it today.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I’m just surprised you didn’t say anything until now about it,” I said, snuggling under the covers and holding her close.

“I wanted to a thousand times, but I was afraid you’d make me leave.”

Where this logic came from, heaven only knows. I looked at her. “Jenna, we’d never make you leave. You’re part of the family now.”

She smiled, kissed me, and turned so that we could spoon.

We needed to find out what happened to Cindy, which was the ugliness that was a constant companion of our lives. But Jenna was the silver lining to that cloud.

I fell asleep inhaling the wonderful fragrance of her hair and giving her head small kisses of love while wondering how life could have been happy before she came to live with us.

Continue on to Chapter 25