Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Sammy

Hi!

My name is Junie, and I’m 15 years old. I’ve never published anything that I’ve written before, but my mom thought it would be a good idea for me to write a “personal essay” about our relationship, and to submit it for this week’s English assignment.

See, I’m home-schooled, always have been. Mom got her Ph.D. in education when she was only 22, and for her thesis designed a whole new kindergarten-to-grade-12 curriculum of her very own, focused on “self-directed learning” and each student’s unique qualities. (And talk about unique — there’s no way I’d be able to submit this to any ordinary school!)

A few years later she had me, and then a few years after that, I became her first student. And she’s always been my only teacher. In every way.

That’s another thing: I never got to meet my dad. He was a lot older than my mom, and died before I could get a chance. To be honest, I’m not really supposed to talk about him. He was a famous priest and philosopher, especially on education, and had pledged never to have children. But he and Mom fell in love, or at least he did with her when she was his teaching assistant. And that’s how I was conceived.

At least I’m named after him, with my middle name, Ivana. Which I kind of hate now for reasons you can probably figure out. But anyway.

Mom helped me to get the dialogue here right, but otherwise these are all my own words. She said ten pages was the limit, but there is so much in my heart about her and us that I feel like I could fill a hundred novels with it.

I guess things really got started when I was twelve. Mom had made it a habit for us to go to the theater downtown every Friday night, when they showed old movies. Each week was a different one, mostly in English, but sometimes from a country like France or Germany, which meant there would be subtitles. I always tried hard to follow along, mostly to be able to quote lines back at Mom in the car ride home, which seemed to make her proud. She told me more than once that as good as the movies were, she enjoyed our conversations afterward even more, listening to what I liked or didn’t like, learning to express myself in grown-up language.

One night we went to see one of Mom’s favorites, What’s Up, Doc?. She told me it was hilarious, and she was so right! It was as funny as some of the old black-and-white comedies we’d already seen there, but everything was so pretty and colorful. We both laughed so hard, and every time my Mom did, she would trace her fingers softly over my wrist. I had noticed a few weeks before that she had started to hold my hand more and more, and that night she had her hands on me in some way for what seemed like the whole movie. I remember feeling very special and loved. As soon as the end credits started and I turned to look at her, she rubbed her thumb and index fingers on the nape of my neck. I got chills all over.

Afterwards, we went to this diner down the street called Sal’s, where we usually went to talk after a movie. We ordered our usual, two cokes and a plate of chilli fries. As soon as the waitress left the table, Mom took both of my hands in hers and looked directly into my eyes.

“Tonight has been so special, sweetheart,” she said, starting to tear up a bit. “It means so much to me, sharing something I love so much with a person I love even more. The person, in fact, whom I love more than anyone else in the whole wide world.”

I smiled at her. “I love you too, Mom. More than anything.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Junie. Very glad.” She cleared her throat and looked nervous all of a sudden.

“I have something very important to tell you, sweetheart. You see, not only do I love you, but…I like you, too. I like you like how the girl liked the boy in the movie. I like you…as a girlfriend.” She tilted her head slightly. “Do you understand?”

There was an awkward silence between us as I struggled to process what she was saying. I didn’t know how to respond…it just seemed so weird. Me and Mom, girlfriends?

“I know it’s a lot to take in, sweetheart.” She smiled warmly and squeezed my hands. “But I think it’s important for me to announce my intention to court you.”

“Court, Mom?” Now I was even more confused!

“That’s what it used to be called, when a man would pursue a woman he wanted to get romantically involved with. He would take her on dates and they would get to know each other, and the woman would make up her mind on whether or not they would be boyfriend and girlfriend, or even get married.”

“Oh…”

“I’m not going to move too fast, sweetheart. There’s nothing to be scared of. I just wanted to let you know why things might seem a little different from now on, while we get to know each other in this new, exciting way. Our daily routine isn’t going to change. You know how important your education is. I’m still going to be your teacher from 9 till 2, and you’re still going to have to study as hard as you always have. It might seem strange at first, but we have so much time to figure things out, darling. We have forever.”

I got a warm feeling in my tummy when she said that and squeezed her hands even tighter than she had squeezed mine.

“Hmm,” she said, grinning. “Looks like I haven’t frightened my favorite girl off.”

“Nope, she’s still here,” I giggled.

“Mmm,” Mom hummed, “and what a pretty sight she makes, too. Now let’s hurry up and finish these fries so we can get some ice cream.”

. . . . .

It was pretty late when we got home, so Mom said I should go right to bed. We walked silently up the stairs and stopped in front of my door. She wrapped me in her arms and our eyes locked for a moment, but I got nervous and looked away. We both giggled, then went quiet, and the silence seemed to overwhelm us. Mom’s right hand slowly snaked along my side, her left pressed firmly into the small of my back, holding me in place. I still couldn’t meet her gaze. She cupped my chin and bent down slightly, and then her lips were on mine, her scent swimming over me. It felt like time stopped as we necked. She nibbled on my bottom lip before breaking away and looking down my body, like she wanted to eat me all up. She reminded me of a wild animal, but still my mom in a weird way. Did that make me an animal too? A picture popped into my head, of us living free and naked in the forest, sleeping together in the dirt. It made me warm and want to laugh at the same time.

“You’re getting to be such a big girl, Junie,” Mom said, breaking me out of my daydreams. “That’s part of the reason Mommy has all these strong new feelings for you. Maturing into such a beautiful young woman.”

I blushed, fighting the impulse to look away again. I could feel how important this was, and wanted to her to know she had my attention. “That means it’s important that you have your privacy, and your own space. I want you to go into your room and get undressed, now. And really think about everything we talked about.”

“Okay, Mom.”

“And Junie?”

“Yeah?”

“I bet you look beautiful naked, sweetheart.”

I blushed and started to close the door, not knowing what to say, not wanting to risk saying anything dumb. The last thing I saw through the crack was my mother’s warm smile, flashing like a firefly in the low light. It felt weird to hear her say that, about me looking beautiful naked, but it definitely made me feel beautiful, even kind of independent and grown-up since she had no idea how my body really looked now. It had been probably five years she had seen me without any clothes. Then I had a thought. How long had Mom liked me…this way? When did it start? When I was in kindergarten? When I was…breastfeeding? It made me dizzy to think about.

I managed to sleep okay that night and woke up bright and early, excited to see what would come next, but I quickly found out that Mom sure wasn’t kidding about taking things slowly!

One thing was, she started to hold my hand more, especially in public. She said she wanted everyone to know how proud she was to be with the most beautiful girl in the whole world. Often, I would look up and catch her eyes. Sometimes she would smile. Other times, my favorite times, she wouldn’t change her expression at all when she caught me looking at her, keeping her gaze so intense that I got a strong feeling that, for all her pretense to me being the “decider” here, she, not me, was in charge, and things were going to happen exactly as she wanted them to. And I realized I was totally okay with that.

We still kept Friday nights for movies, but we started to go on lots of other dates, too. Picnics, art galleries, poetry readings. Mom loved going to see local authors at the library, and we’d often introduce ourselves after they were finished with their stories or poems. One day, Mom surprised me by telling me that our local branch was hosting the author of one of my very favorite novels. I was so excited! It was supposed to be a busy event, and Mom warned me that we might not get a chance to meet her, but I wanted to be as prepared as possible. I read the book three times in the coming weeks, as well as two of the author’s other books, and even made notes about my favorite parts, kind of like I was writing a book report.

And the reading was amazing. I was thrilled to see so many girls my age there with their mothers. Mom held my hand almost the whole time.

I was so nervous afterwards, when Mom and I approached the author at the reception. She was even more beautiful than on the book jacket. I introduced myself, and told her she was my favorite. She actually blushed, and asked me what I thought about the new book she had read from. I told her I was so excited to read another book about Cosette (the main character), and, well, we just had an amazing conversation. The whole time I could sense Mom’s eyes darting back and forth between us, occasionally adding a word in but mostly encouraging my responses to the author’s questions. At one point, I finally managed to suppress my nerves long enough to try and make a joke, and they both laughed. Right then Mom placed her hand in the small of my back and started to softly stroke the skin under my blouse, occasionally pressing her whole palm, firmly, intro the curve, middle finger sliding slowly into the damp crack of my bum. I guess Mom had maneuvered  my back to the wall for a reason!

After we left the auditorium, all having exchanged contact information with promises to write, Mom squeezed my hand and suddenly steered us toward one of the empty study rooms.

“June-Bug,” she almost stuttered, using my private nickname. “Would you like to go inside here and talk for a second?”

“Uh, sure, Mom,” I replied, a bid unsteadily. We stepped inside the dimly lit room. Mom turned and quickly locked the door. My heart felt like it was going to beat right out of my chest. She nestled right into me and placed her hands on my hips.

“I’m so proud of you, baby. You were so wonderful. So confident. So eloquent. So funny! My goodness, when did you get so funny?” Her nostrils flared, and she looked almost out of control for a second. “To be honest, Junie, that was one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”

I was speechless. It’s hard to describe how big and wonderful that moment felt, Mom’s nose nuzzling mine, her strong scent in my nostrils, her presence somehow more imposing than ever before. It was like she was inside me, everywhere, all at once, wearing my body like a glove. She crushed her lips to mine, pausing at first, as if to let them introduce themselves to an eager new friend. As we kissed, a deep rumble came from her throat, almost inaudible, but it rang throughout my body. I could feel myself getting wet down there. She pawed my breast roughly, which startled me, but she seemed to catch herself and we both relaxed into her hand’s slow circles over my nipple. Suddenly, her head snapped back as if she’d come out of a trance.

“We should go, Junie. Y-you must be starving, sweetheart!” Huh? I was very confused, not to mention excited! I said nothing and waited for her to speak. I guess she sensed it. “Look, sweetie, I love what we just did. I’ve never been kissed like that before. But I got carried away, because of how sweet and happy and adult you were. We can’t do that in public. At least not yet. Can you trust me?”

I smiled shyly. “Of course. You’re my mom. I think that’s why this feels so good. You’re my mom and I love you, and trust you, and know you’re always going to do what’s best for me.”

She was silent for a moment, and I could see the beginning of tears in her eyes. “Oh, sweetie,” she sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

She took my hand and we stepped out of the study room to the escalator down to the second floor. It was dark by this point, and the top two floors of the library were deserted. Mom looked around us, quickly, and stepped into me. She peered from our feet to the railing and beyond, as if to check that we were completely hidden below the waist, and muttered, “What the hell.” Then her hand was on my thigh, then higher, then pressing against my damp panties. I was only twelve, and a virgin, but I knew what she wanted, and that she was going to have it. The tip of her finger in my pussy made me jump, but I was so wet she slid in easily, right up to my hymen. Mom felt it and paused. “Not yet, for that,” she whispered. She stared into my eyes as she fingered me slowly, my young cunt dripping juices. “You’re Mommy’s girl, aren’t you?”

“Yeah…” I managed, already starting to come.

“I want you to say it, Junie.” Her voice was quiet, breathy, but commanding. I was melting, had never felt so excited inside, aching, coming and coming…

“I’m your girl, Mommy,” I gasped. “I’m yours. I’m…I’m in love with you, want to marry you, want your babies, wanna be pregnant for you,” I let out, choked with emotion, riding out the first orgasm of my life, yet managing a little miraculously to keep my voice quiet enough for the near-empty library. Mom hugged me to her chest. I felt my feet hit solid ground and knew that we’d reached the bottom, but I couldn’t move my legs. I felt Mom withdraw from my pussy and clasp my hand, which she scrubbed with her own, smearing my juices all over my fingers. We held hands the whole walk home, saying nothing, sharing shy sidelong glances.

My babbling wasn’t just babbling. I was completely in love with her, and wanted to do all of those things, especially the impossible ones. She knew this, too — I could tell whenever she looked at me.

The next night, the day having passed normally, we were watching a movie in the living room and somehow fell into soft kisses on the couch. I know it sounds weird, but I still can’t really explain how it happened, how it started. It was Mom’s doing, I’m sure, but in my responses to her moves I was every bit as eager. Probably more, if that makes sense. And I’m sure it does, if you’re a submissive yourself, or really know one. The thrill of finding confidence in your own vulnerability, the weird, backwards pride of playing a role really well that debases you. And I’ll tell you, it’s totally magnified if the dom is your Mom!

By the time the movie was finished and the menu was clicking along onscreen, Mom and I both knew it was time. I know it might sound too sudden-like, but it was time. Time, eight months after the start of our new relationship, who knows how many years after that first spark of desire, for my mother to take my virginity.

We walked upstairs, hand in hand. The undressing’s a blur, as much as I would’ve liked to keep the memory of Mom taking off my clothes for the first time as her lover.

I do remember her crawl, low and slow up the bed. I remember that my fists clenched the sheets as her eyes poured into mine. I remember that she paused and looked at my hands, that my knuckles were probably whiter than the cotton underneath them.

And then she seemed to shy up.

“Mom…?” I asked, after a moment or two.

“Gosh…” she chuckled, shook her head.”I just really wanna eat your pussy, Junie.”

I gasped.

“I mean, just eat your little fucking cunt till there’s nothing left. Would that be okay, baby?”

I said nothing. I was shocked, sure, but willing then to go wherever she wanted. So I spread my legs wide as possible, savoring the chance to try something sexy and seductive. It seemed to work — Mom’s face broke out in a smile of what I could only describe as total ecstasy. And then her face was out of view, and her lips were nibbling and kissing on my inner thighs. She played silently with the soft light down on my legs and nuzzled into me, close to my center. “I can smell you, baby.”

“I’m glad, Mama,” I moaned.

“Do you know what smells are, June-Bug? … Scientifically?”

“Yah totally, they’re, uh,” I struggled, writhing, “…oh God Mom, they’re, um…”

She laughed and flicked her tongue along my lips, making me jump. “They’re molecules, sweetie. Tiny little pieces of you.”

“Pieces…”

“Yes, my dear…” her tongue plunged in, deeper and deeper, in and out of me. “Pieces. Like little pieces of pie. And Mommy’s eating you all up.”

“Eating me, Mommy, eating me…” I moaned.

“So when I smell you…” she made a show of inhaling, “I’m devouring you. Bringing you inside me, every bit I can.”

And then something started moving, deep and strong inside my tummy, like a creaky faucet in a big old house. It picked up speed, rushing through me everywhere till it burst out my privates so strong I could have sworn I was swimming…

I heard Mommy choke and laugh, and everything made sense when I looked down at her — she had gooey stuff all over her face, and it had come from me!

“I’m so sorry, Mommy!”

“No, no, Junie, don’t be silly, sweetheart. That’s about the best gift you could have given me.”

“What was that?”

She giggled again. “You squirted, June-Bug. You squirted cum all over me!”

“And…you like that?”

“Everyone does. Everyone who likes doing what I did.”

I felt so embarrassed, but I had to ask: “What do you call it? I mean, I remember “cunnilingus”, and all the slangs and stuff, but what do you call it, Mama?”

“Eating pussy, sweetheart.” She grinned, and looked down at me, smile spreading.

I just about to ask her if I could eat hers, but I stopped myself. On this weird zig-zag path we were on, the mix of submission and initiative, I knew which one was called for now.

Without saying a word, sensing her eyes on me the whole time, I moved my mouth to her chest and started kissing softly around the tops of her beautiful breasts, jiggling just a little. I risked a nibble, biting a bit above the pink of her areola.

“Mmm, what are you doing, my love?” She asked dreamily.

I tried to grin, expectantly, like she had before. “I’m gonna eat your pussy”  —  she gasped at that  —  “…but not yet, Mama.”

And then her nipple was in my mouth. When I got it in there I kind of froze for a second. But Mom, too, seemed to be lost, eyes closed and back arched, her high-pitched gasp squeaking into the air. “So good, Junie, fuck…”

I knew I had her then, and that I knew what do — even if I didn’t. I sucked her nipple into my mouth and her hands went round the back of my neck, fingers interlacing. She pulled me down to her, hard, and bit in. Her squeak became a squeal. “Yes, baby, yes!”

Her hands inched slowly up my head till they were almost on the top, and I understood what she wanted, before she had to urge me down.

But I went down anyway. Gladly. Kissing along her skin, stopping to nudge my tongue into her bellybutton. I’m sure she responded to that, too, but I was too caught up to take it in.

And then it was there. She was there.

Facing what I had wanted for so, so long, what I realized immediately had long led my thoughts around in ways I had no way of understanding, I was just about in shock. Sure, Mom had taught me anatomy, but no glossy photo could have prepared me. She was smooth for some inches below her bellybutton, but then her bush began, soft to my touch. Which was still shy, but getting stronger by the second. She had trimmed herself so that the hair wasn’t wild, but I could still press down with my palm and watch it form around my hand. I did that and more for a little while, exploring this new terrain of hers, imagining how mine would look when I was her age. And getting chills thinking about how Mom would be with me, every step of the way.

“That feels real nice, Junie…” she let out with a sigh.

“I’m glad, Mama. I like it, too.”

“Do you want me to…to show you…” She looked almost embarrassed. I smiled at her.

“Nah. I got it.”

Then my nose was in her bush deep, inhaling. I almost passed out. This was her essence, what I realized immediately I’d smelt for years, my head in her lap on the couch watching movies, or trailing behind the path of scents she left, leaving the bathroom.

And it was mine.

I caught a dribble on my tongue when I swiped up to her clit for the first time, a little pink nub sneaking out the brown underneath it like one of those long-nosed monkeys. Her yelp right then made me suck harder, and she came loud all over my face. Not quite the mess that I’d made, but enough for a good gulp!

I looked up and her palm was on her forehead. I was a little disappointed to see she was still conscious.

“Sorry I came so quick, sweetheart.” Her eyes were still closed.

“That’s fine, Mom,” I giggled, swallowing the last bits of cum in my mouth. “I loved it.”

She opened her eyes and we looked at each other. We were silent.

“What do you want to do now, June-Bug?”

I was exhausted, and was ready to let her take over. But I was still horny as hell.

“Whatever you want to do, Mama. I want you to show me everything.”

She smiled and ran her fingers along my jaw. “I think I know just the thing. How about you close your eyes and let me surprise you?”

I did, and she repositioned me on my back at the top of the bed. I heard her rustle around for a few minutes and had butterflies in my tummy the whole time.

“Okay, sweetie. Open up.”

I was surprised all right — Mama had a cock! A big pink one, around her hips!

“Do you think you’re ready for this?”

“Uh-huh,” I almost panted. “Been ready forever, Mommy, feels like. Please fuck me. Now.”

She giggled. “No full sentences, huh? That much?”

“Uh-huh. Now now now!”

“Okay, horndog.” She crawled onto the bed and made her way between my legs. Her cock nudged my lips.

“It’s so special, me your first. My goodness, my God…” She kissed me on the lips, her eyes asking me a question. I nodded and she eased into me. My eyes misted up in joy as I felt my juices surge and coat her cock, squeezing into my little slit, finally pressing up to my hymen. I expected her to pierce me slowly, but in an instant she was through, grunting, a throaty “fuck, yeah” beside my right ear, almost drowning out my shriek of pain. “Gonna get better, baby…” She muttered, three sloppy kisses smeared on the side of my lips as in reassurance. It was like she was struggling to hold onto her being a “Mom” probably as my cunt throbbed around her. It wasn’t long before the pain had disappeared and I was thrusting eagerly back up, belly twisting under her gaze. “I love you so much, Junie. Fuck, I fucking love you.”

I wheezed as I felt her push even further into me, and I knew that I had it all inside me. How could I? How long was that thing? 6 inches, 8? I’m thirteen years old, I remember thinking to myself. And I’m taking my mommy’s whole cock in my pussy. Because she loves me. It felt so good inside my head. So good I found myself closing my eyes to Mommy’s real face, right above mine as she fucked me, so I could repeat those thoughts to myself as I pictured her face inside my head. I don’t know why that turned me on so much. But it still does, and I still do it.

“Gonna go harder, baby,” Mom said, taking my legs and bringing them up towards my chest. “That okay?”

“Yeah, Mommy…anything’s okay.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, my lovely…” Her small moans of delight trickled over me as she picked up speed, my shaky fingers wrapping themselves up in the headboard a second before her movements would’ve had my head hitting it. “Uh, oh,” she chuckled, not without genuine concern. “Is Mommy gonna have to be more careful with her baby?”

“No…” I managed.

“No?”

“No, Mommy…harder. I want you…to fuck me…harder…” I tried to raise my voice at the end but a massive orgasm quickly rendered me speechless. As I peaked and soared and creamed myself I felt an intrusion, sharp, somewhere I never had before and I knew my mother had a finger in my bum, lubricated with my own juices. “Mommy!” I squealed before her tongue shut me up.

“Mmm, I’m right here, precious.” I felt a smattering of tears on my chest. “Oh, you precious baby, you sweet girl…” Mama’s face was glowing. “I have to taste you. Devour you. Every bit of you.” She kissed where she’d cried on, then started her lips on a long wet passage across my skin. She made me feel like a desert and a beautiful mirage, all at once. “Oh, my God…” There it was. Her tongue.

“So good, so fucking good, mmm,” she gasped and gulped. “Love your little asshole. Your tiny pink jewel.”

“My bum? You like my bum, Mommy? You like licking it?” I was worried my attempts to keep up with her talk would sound lame, but she really responded.

“Oh God, yes. Mama loves your little butthole. So much. So perfect. Perfect like your every other inch.” A little flowery! But it sent me right over the edge again anyway.

“You have all of me, Mama,” I sighed, happier than I had ever thought possible. “All of me.

“Forever.”

. . . . .

Well, that’s ten pages, or almost.

Mom and I are still together, of course, still in love.

I’ll probably be heading to college next year, or maybe the year after. I’ve already passed early entrance exams for a few really good schools in the area. But Mom thinks it might be good for me to go away somewhere, that she feels funny sometimes about having kept me to herself all these years.

I always tell her she’s being silly. There’s no other way I can imagine having been taught, and by no other teacher. When I tell her that, sometimes she goes all the way in the other direction and reminds me of what I said about getting pregnant for her.

Besides, I think I caught the teaching bug from Mom. And I might have an idea or two for a curriculum of my very own…

THE END