Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

The next month, almost the same thing happened.

We got naked in the closet, lay down together on the comforter with Lori on top, and began kissing. She rubbed her body against mine, humping my thigh, then took my hand in hers and placed it between her legs. As we kissed, my sister slid her hot wet cunny up and down on my fingers, faster and faster, until she climaxed.

But this time she didn’t stop with only one. She broke the kiss and caught her breath, gasping and panting, and after a few seconds whispered, “I want more. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what she meant by more, but I was willing to do absolutely anything Lori wanted at that point, anything at all.

“Can you… put your finger inside?” she asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Inside me. Put it inside me.”

“I — I don’t know — where?”

You can tell how clueless I still was. Although I had finally started masturbating during the preceding month, that was simply with my fingers on my labia and my clit. I hadn’t penetrated my vagina. Alone in bed at night, I would lie on my stomach and slip my hand inside my panties, humping my palm in imitation of the way my sister had humped my leg. I was able to reach orgasm, which was fabulous, but I hadn’t figured out yet that there were other places my little fingers could go.

I was about to learn.

“You know, put it inside me,” Lori said. “Here, I’ll show you.”

In the darkness of the closet, my sister reached between her legs and grasped my hand. She took the index finger, moved it down a bit, and pressed the tip of my finger against a very soft wet spot… a spot that yielded when she pressed harder, that opened and allowed my finger to enter within.

Oh my god. What a discovery! This was the most amazing, delicious thing I’d ever felt in my young life. So warm, so soft, so pleasant and welcoming — and so exciting.

“Fuck me,” my sister urged. “Fuck me with your finger.”

“Okay.”

I’d heard the word ‘fuck’ before from kids at school. I knew it was a bad word, a dirty word, but I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant. Now I found out, and it wasn’t bad at all. It was wonderful!

“Fuck me, make me come,” said Lori.

“Okay.”

With my finger inside her juicy warm vagina, my sister put her mouth over mine, her tongue intruding. We kissed, and I fucked her, and I made her come.

She came three more times that way, and then at last our game ended for the night. Lori lay panting on top of me, her body hot and sweaty, completely spent. After recovering for a minute or so, she kissed me a final time, then whispered, “Maybe next month we’ll try something else, all right?”

“Sure, okay, anything.”

After she left the closet, I sniffed my moistened index finger. It smelled nice. I licked it, and I liked the way it tasted.

Gathering up my clothes, I went to my own room, eager to experiment, see what would happen if I put my finger inside myself that same way. Could I do it? Would it feel just as nice?

Yes, I could, and yes, it did.

 * * *

I masturbated more than ever during the next several weeks, not only at night, but in the morning when I woke up, and numerous times after I arrived home from school. In my mind while I fucked myself with my finger, I replayed the unmatchable excitement of fucking my sister Lori.

Oh, how I loved that. I wanted to do it with her again so badly. I was sure we would as soon as we had the chance, but that could be such an interminable wait! Who knew when our mom and dad would go out again and leave us alone? Often it was longer than a month between occasions, sometimes even two months or more.

I tried to catch my sister’s eye, perhaps send a subtle unspoken suggestion that she and I should try doing something secret between those times, sneaking into each other’s rooms at night, or getting together after school. But Lori ignored these entreaties, if she even noticed them.

We never spoke about these things anywhere but inside our parents’ walk-in closet. To all outward appearances, we were just a normal pair of siblings, ten years old and thirteen years old. There was nothing remarkable about us. No one else knew what we did. But I knew and she knew.

And we waited.

 * * *

Finally, almost two months after the last time, we were in the closet again, lying together in the steamy darkness, kissing and humping.

I was on fire with arousal that night. My hands went everywhere, fondling my sister’s boobs as we kissed, squeezing her stiff nipples, then clutching her ass, pulling her tightly against me, lifting my pelvis to thrust my still hairless mound into her crotch.

In my feverish excitement, I suddenly grabbed Lori’s hand, placing it between my legs.

“Fuck me,” I said. “Fuck my cunny with your finger.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” I nodded in the dark, “you fuck me, and I’ll fuck you. We’ll do it together.”

This was a switch. For the first time I was taking control of events. I hadn’t planned to do that, it just happened in the heat of the moment.

“Okay,” said Lori, “if you’re sure.”

“I am sure. I want you to fuck me!”

“Oh my god — well, all right.”

She tentatively fingered my slit, spreading the lips, exploring my smooth wetness. I reached for her too at the same time. Lori’s breath felt hot on my face. We weren’t kissing just then, but were both breathing hard, panting with arousal as we fondled one another.

My sister found the opening to my vagina. The tip of her finger made a small circle, sliding around the rim. It felt so good. But then she seemed to hesitate.

I was trembling all over, wanting this more than I’d ever wanted anything.

“Fuck me, Lori. Fuck my cunny!”

“Jesus… okay.”

Slowly she pushed her finger inside. I did the same with her. We fucked each other. We kissed, we humped, we fucked, and we both came.

 * * *

For more than another year, that was as far as we went. Finger-fucking in the closet, kissing and groping, coming over and over, month after month. It was heavenly. I adored those special times and looked forward to them with lustful anticipation.

Then, two weeks after her fifteenth birthday, Lori suggested something else.

“You want to try licking?”

“What?”

This was a brand new idea, an act I’d never even imagined. My sister informed me that girls could lick each other, that you could kiss a girl’s cunny the same way you kissed her mouth, using your tongue, and that it felt very good.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“Cause I did it with Amber. I licked her and she licked me.”

“Really??”

“Uh-huh.”

I was shocked.

I felt betrayed, in a way, finding out that Lori was having sex with someone else and not just me. But I also felt curiously aroused by the idea, turned on by the thought of watching my sister with another girl, kissing her and touching her, fucking her, and even — licking her!

“Do you like, um… doing that with Amber?” I asked.

“Sure, it’s great. But now I want to do it with you too, okay?”

“Well, okay.”

“Good.”

Lori brought her mouth to mine and tenderly kissed my lips, her tongue lightly teasing. It was so thrilling it almost made me faint. Then she whispered, “I’ll do you first.”

“All right.”

She scooted down on the comforter.

I couldn’t see a thing in the blackness of the closet, but I felt my sister’s hands on my legs, gently pushing my thighs apart. I felt her fingers on my pussy lips, carefully parting them. I felt the soft warmth of her breath on my innermost private parts. And then I felt her kissing my sex.

Oh. My. God.

Every time she and I advanced another step in our carnal exploration, that became the newest, greatest excitement of my life: first the naked touching, then the kissing, the humping, the fingering, the fucking, and now licking. Each step lifted me still higher, to a loftier plane of erotic arousal, taking me places I never knew existed before.

Now, however, I was sure this had to be the ultimate. Nothing could possibly surpass the incredible feeling of my sister’s lips and tongue on my cunny — and in my cunny.

When I felt Lori’s hot tongue pushing inside my vagina, a surge of lustful passion suddenly tore through my body, making me shudder all over.

“You okay?” she asked, momentarily taking her mouth away from its job.

“Yeah, don’t stop. Keep doing it!”

“Okay,” she chuckled.

My sister kissed and licked, sucked and swallowed, making oral love to my cunny. She fucked me with her tongue, then sucked on my clit as she slid a finger inside me.

I came I don’t know how many times. Lori didn’t quit after I reached climax the first time. She just kept eating me, licking me, fucking me — and I kept on coming, over and over again.

At last I simply couldn’t take any more. It was too intense. I thought I would go crazy if I didn’t make it stop.

Frantically, clumsily I reached down, pushing her away. I rolled onto my side, trembling, hugging myself as I curled into a fetal position.

Lori spooned with me, tenderly stroking, soothing, saying soft words, petting my hair, kissing my shoulder.

It took a long time, but gradually I recovered. I took a very deep breath, slowly let it out, then turned back toward my sister. I felt for her face in the darkness, cupping her cheeks in my palms. I kissed her lips and whispered, “Thank you.”

 * * *

The following month, it was my turn.

We shut the closet door, took off all our clothes and lay down on the comforter. After a few minutes of preliminary kissing and fondling, I said, “Um, is it okay if I try with you?”

“Try what?”

“You know, licking. Like you did with me last time.”

“You want to?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, good.”

We changed positions. I sat up and Lori took my place, lying naked on her back. I crouched between her spread legs, sliding my hands slowly up the insides of her thighs. Her skin was smooth and soft and warm.

When my fingers reached her crotch, I encountered the furriness. By then, at eleven and a half years old, I’d begun sprouting a bit of pubic hair myself. Not much yet, but enough to make me feel like I really was growing up. Lori, however, at age fifteen had quite a lot, nearly a full bush.

This excited me somehow, making it seem even more forbidden, and thus more desirable. It was as if I, a child, was doing something very bad with a grownup, something I knew I wasn’t supposed to do. I loved it.

“Do it,” she urged. “Lick me.”

“Okay.”

I lowered my face to her sex, inhaling a heady mix of aromas: the savory scent of her moist vagina, a touch of sweat, a hint of urine. I knew my sister hadn’t bathed since that morning, and the thought that she was maybe a little dirty there turned me on even more.

Parting her hair with my fingers, I placed a kiss right in the center. She was wet, gooey with arousal. I kissed her again.

“Ooh, yeah,” she sighed, “keep doing it.”

I kissed my sister several more times, my lips becoming coated with her slippery, fragrant juices. I licked them. The taste was wonderful. Then I extended my tongue, and for the first time in my life began eating pussy. It wouldn’t be the last.

I licked her everywhere. I certainly wasn’t any kind of an expert, of course, but that didn’t really matter. All you need is a warm, wet tongue, and the willingness to use it. I licked my sister’s labia, her clit, her furrow, her dripping vagina — I licked her everywhere.

Soon she began undulating, breathing faster, rocking her pelvis, pressing her sex into my mouth. “Yes, yes, yes,” she whispered.

“Mmmm…” I pushed my face into her center, rubbing my lips all around, tasting her, eating her, shoving my tongue deep into her cunny, wanting to put my whole body inside her, my whole self inside.

“Yes! Yes!” Lori cried. “Yes — UNH — NOW!!”

She came in my mouth. My sister came in my mouth.

How can I tell you how delicious that was, how fulfilling and satisfying? I’m not sure words can ever express it. You’d have to experience it for yourself.

I loved my big sister more than anyone in the world, even more than I loved my mom and dad. And to know that I’d brought her to the peak of ecstasy, given her all that pleasure, made me happier than I’d ever been.

I hungrily ate up her juices, swallowing them, sucking, licking, drinking. I’m sure I was smiling too at the time, maybe even laughing. I was euphoric.

When Lori finished coming and I moved up, lying on top of her, she grabbed me, squeezing me tight, thanking me again and again as she showered me with kisses. Then with a giggle she said, “God, your face is a sloppy mess. Sorry about that.”

“I don’t mind,” I assured her, licking my lips in the darkness, enjoying her flavor. “I like it.”

After a few more minutes of kissing and giggling, Lori asked me to sit on her face. Yet again this was something new, something we hadn’t tried before.

I did it, and I loved it. She made me come several times, which was great of course, although I think perhaps I liked it better when I was on my back, with her face between my legs. I don’t know, they’re both great, either way.

 * * *

Another totally great thing, of course, is a ‘69’.

We didn’t try it that night, but we did the very next month, and that became our new favorite position. My sister and I would spend what seemed to be hours feasting on each other’s pussies, both at the same time. Sometimes we did it with me on top, sometimes with Lori on top, but usually we were side by side.

What a wonderful memory that is: my face buried between my beloved sister’s legs, lips gooey with her juices, fingers probing everywhere… with the simultaneous feeling of her mouth and fingers all over me too, kissing, licking, fucking, never stopping, just continually gliding from one orgasm to the next, filling the closet with our moans, our sighs, our climaxes, and the perfume of our passion.

We’d begun when I was eight and she was twelve, playing an exciting new game in the darkness. Over a period of three and a half years, Lori and I progressed from simple touching to full-on incestuous lesbian sex. It filled me with such great joy.

 * * *

Then something awful happened, almost the worst thing you can possibly imagine. No, we didn’t get caught by our parents. They never found out, had no idea what we were doing.

The awful thing is that my sister turned sixteen years old and was given permission to go out on dates with boys. It broke my heart to see how eager she was for this. The special bond I thought we had — an unspoken pledge of love and devotion and fidelity that I mistakenly believed existed between us — all that was clearly just the product of a young girl’s foolish mind.

Our fun evenings in the closet didn’t end right away when Lori started dating, but they did become less frequent. Because I was now twelve, my mother and father deemed that I was old enough to stay home by myself for a few hours at a time. So, if Lori happened to have a date on the same night that they wanted to go out, I was left alone. All alone.

This occurred only a couple of times over the first several months. But by the time she was seventeen, a year later, Lori had acquired a steady boyfriend. He was a dumb jock called Mark, and I despised him. For many years after, whenever I would meet a boy or a man bearing that name, it produced an immediate hatred within me. Completely irrational, I know, but that’s how it was.

At any rate, Lori was growing up, preparing to graduate from high school, approaching adulthood. She had a boyfriend, and all I had was memories. My sister and I never played the game again, and we never spoke about it. It was all in the past.

I’ve tried hard to put the bitterness behind me, and as time has gone by, the pain has gradually faded. Now I’m able to look back and mostly just remember the pleasure, the excitement of discovery, the thrill of hidden intimacy, the ecstatic joy of our shared orgasms.

 * * *

Lori celebrated her thirty-fifth birthday last week, and I was invited over to their house for dinner, which was nice. The funny thing is, she and her husband George have two daughters of their own, five and eight years old. Although they’re likely too young at this point for sexual experimentation, I can’t help but wonder… as those little girls begin to mature and become more curious, will they someday play special secret games with each other? Do all sisters do that? Or was I just one of a lucky few?