Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By: Sunnybunny

(If you’ve not read Part One, you should do so before reading this part.)

The door slid open and Lillian appeared, flanked by another girl around her own age. She was dressed in the same white smock and stockings and clogs. Her raven hair was braided and so long it came to the middle of her back. She had dark, Spanish eyes, the kind that would melt boys’ hearts one day but fixed in the face of a child. She smiled upon entering and it felt genuine.

“Hello, Rosalind,” the new girl greeted. Her accent was a kitten’s purr. “My name is Catarina. I’ll be your masseuse.”

Rosalind half rose, cupping a hand to her chest. She looked from one girl to the other. Had she really been so foolish as to expect an adult would be rubbing her down in a place like this?

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” she began.

Catarina shook her head. “Not at all. Lillian asked specifically for me, to attend you today. She was…” she paused, fighting for the right word. Her thick little eyebrows knit together in thought. “Insistent, that I be the one.”

“Catarina is the best massage technician we have,” Lillian said, arms folded and watching in admiration.

The Spanish girl dropped her eyes shyly. “Lillian, you will make me blush!”

Rosalind motioned to gather her towel around her but Lillian eased her back down. “Rosalind, please. She really is the best, don’t let her age distract you. Give us a chance, and I’m sure you’ll see that this place isn’t as scary as you think.” She hopped up onto the table beside Rosalind and crossed her legs. The smock rod up higher on her thigh and the older woman could not help but stare.

“Ms. Winters clearly saw something in you,” Lillian said. She knew what Rosalind was looking at and scooted her butt a little, making the garment ride up even higher. “Otherwise, she would not have brought you here.”

She had said something similar before. What did that even MEAN? That her boss thought Rosalind was a…a…a something?

“You enjoyed seeing those girls at the pool, didn’t you?” Lillian asked rhetorically. “Maybe wished it was you in the pool with them?”

Without meaning to, Rosalind pictured the scene. Her, rather than Patricia Wilson, falling into the pool in a tangle of nubile bodies. She shivered visibly and had to close her eyes but that only made the images more vivid. The girls’ freckles were so much more pronounced. Their matted hair just aching to be pushed out of their faces. The little cleft in their chests where breasts might one day blossom…

She shuddered visibly and when she opened her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of Lillian’s panties. They were only just visible beneath her smock, a hint of white between her pale legs. They looked more like lingerie than girl’s panties. No Wonder Woman logos to be found, only incandescent fabric and swirling patterns. Their eyes met and Lillian grinned all the wider. “Let us take care of you, okay?”

Rosalind felt herself nod. Just an observer to the scene, watching from far way.

Lillian hopped off the table and went to sit in nearby wicker chair, taking the delicious sight of her undergarments with her, much to Rosalind’s surprised dismay.

Catarina took her cue and went to the table and retrieved a series of bottles of scented lotions. “Lay down, please.”

Rosalind heard caps snapping free from containers, felt the girl move closer to the table. She watched from the hollow in the table as Catarina’s shadow fell into view. Then, the distinct sound of a zipper.

Rosalind raised her head and watched the child taking down the zipper at the side of her gown and slipping it smoothly down her body. It pooled at her feet and she casually kicked it away. She was naked underneath.

Rosalind felt her chest go excruciatingly tight as the vision flooded her mind. Her skin was bronze all over, with no hint of tan lines anywhere about her. Her hips were narrow and the arches of her pelvis were visible at her sides. Catalina’s breasts were beginning to bud but little more than mounds of tender flesh for now. They were capped with nipples the color of dark chocolate. Rosalind had always favored dark chocolate….

Catarina let Rosalind drink in her nakedness without showing the slightest hint of shyness. Her arms hung loosely at her side, one toe twisting into the tatami mat. She had all the time in the world and felt no shame having a grown woman ogling her body.

“Are you ready?” she asked. Again, there was no hurry in her question. She would be perfectly content to stand before Rosalind as she was.

Rosalind didn’t know if she replied or not but lowered her head to the hollow again. The lotion was warm against the flesh of her back, but it didn’t stop her from breaking out into goosebumps. She felt small fingers kneading into her flesh like a baker with fresh dough. They moved with grace and skill that defied her young age. She was a craftsman and this was her element.

Rosalind’s head swirled with new questions about Catarina’s training, how long she had been here, massaging strange women with no clothes on. Where were her parents? Was she living here alone, or were they all living on site somewhere? Just one big happy family….

Catarina’s nimble fingers danced over her shoulders, wound themselves around her neck and dug into the space between Rosalind’s shoulder blades, and one by one the concerns faded away. Certainly not gone but lost in the swirl of scented oils and deft hands. She felt herself slipping away, realizing simultaneously that she may fall asleep and did not much care if she did. Just so long as Catarina didn’t stop. She felt the table shift slightly as the girl climbed up with her. Without looking, Rosalind knew she had both knees apart, seating herself lightly on the woman’s buttocks with only a folded over towel between them. Catarina’s palms pressed into the small of Rosalind’s back and firmly pushed up. Rosalind could hear a humming somewhere in the room and it took her a long time to realize that it was her, moaning in enjoyment.

“Roll over, please.”

Rosalind had to swim up from the depths of sleep to reply. “Hmm?”

Catarina repeated herself soothingly. Her voice was low and intoxicating, not just a trick from drowsiness. “Roll over, please. I’m going to massage your front now.”

Rosalind stretched and nodded, waiting to see if the girl would move and allow her the extra room but she made no motion to leave the table. Rosalind placed a hand over the towel to keep it in place and rolled her hips to the side, trying to be very careful not to flash the room. Modesty was beginning to seem silly now, with a naked girl with who knows how much experience being without clothes before clients straddling her waist. Rosalind settled onto her back with the towel in place and was met with a disapproving shake of the head.

“If I am going to massage you,” Catarina explained. “The towel is going to have to be removed.” Her fingers looped themselves into the fold and gave it a gentle tug, watching Rosalind’s face carefully for any sign of protest. Rosalind trembled at the idea, exposing herself to a child! They were so close now. Catarina was practically sitting in her lap. Close enough to feel the heat radiating off the girl’s body, mingling with her own….

Rosalind looked around for Lillian, hoping she would plead with Catarina on her behalf since her voice had abandoned her. She found Lillian still seated in the chair, white smock smoothed down around her slender body and white stockinged legs crossed at the knee. She was a picture of patience and maturity. Their eyes met, Rosalind pleading with hers to help before things crossed some invisible line and there would be no going back. Lillian’s reply was a serene smile. Her head nodded forward so slightly it may have just been the woman’s imagination. She made sure Rosalind was watching and unfolded her legs. With her knees spread apart wide, she was greeted by another peek beneath her smock and the lacy panties underneath. It had the same heart-stopping effect on Rosalind as it did before only the girl wasn’t done. Like a magician before a captive audience, she held her palms out. Nothing up my sleeves! Her fingers went to the corner of her panties, where silk met flesh, and pulled them aside.

The towel fell away from her middle, completely forgotten now. She felt hands on her shoulders, guiding her to lay down again. She was frozen, unable to even speak. The image of Lillian’s smooth sex had burrowed into her mind. Rosalind stared up at the ceiling tiles, still seeing the crease of flesh where the girl’s hips met her pelvis, the subtle veins running up the inside of her thigh, the puffiness of those tender lips devoid of blemish….

Catarina squeezed a generous portion of lotion into her cupped hand. She rubbed her palms together but instead of applying it to Rosalind, she smoothed it over her belly in wide circles. It reminded her of how cartoon characters mimed hunger. Catarina worked the motion up her frame, giving her small breasts a squeeze and rubbing more lotion in until her entire front was glistening. She smiled reassuringly and placed her palms flat on the table, crawling forward until they were facing one another from inches apart. “I hope the massage is to your liking,” she cooed. She lowered herself onto Rosalind, pressing their bodies flush. Rosalind went wide eyed, realizing all at once what was about to transpire. She had heard of such massages in Japan and China but never dreamed she would ever experience one herself!

Catarina took her stunned silence for a sign of approval and snickered. She flexed her knees, drawing herself up along Rosalind’s middle and down again. The girl’s breasts felt incredible against her, soft and warm, small and delicate…such a huge contrast to her own. The child lovingly smothered every inch of her body, smearing lotion between them. Her hands inched along her thighs, up her ribs, fanned out along her outstretched arms. Rosalind was lost in the sensation, hopelessly drowning in lust until it was impossible to distinguish where Catarina’s body ended and hers began.

Rosalind was writhing now, heels sliding along the length of the table. Her hands uselessly groped at the air around her, the lust like an electric current until her body was a live wire. At last it erupted from her lips in a tawdry moan that seemed to go on and on. The child purred into her ear, nuzzled her throat with sweet kisses. She was murmuring something in Spanish and though Rosalind was bilingual, her words were adrift in a sea of pleasure. Her whimpering was quelled only when Catarina pressed her mouth to Rosalind’s own, filling the older woman’s mouth with fire.

Rosalind marveled at the girl’s experience. Catarina’s tongue tickled at Rosalind’s lips, begging entry. She opened her mouth and the child shifted her weight forward, deepening their embrace, like she was trying to lick Rosalind down to her very core.

Rosalind wrapped her arms around the youth at last. The child’s body felt so impossibly small, pressed together as they were. She flattened her hands out against Catarina’s back, exploring the ridges of her shoulder blades down to the small of her back. Her fingers traced easily over the gentle rise of the girl’s buttocks, feeling out where her hips began and the cleft of her cheeks. Catarina sighed heavily into her ear. Her warm breath drew out a fresh wave of goosebumps.

“Yes,” she breathed, her tongue cutting light zigzags up and down Rosalind’s throat, searing both hot and cold at once. “Do with me as you please…”

The words sent Rosalind’s imagination into another frenzy. They came faster and faster, disappearing almost as soon as they appeared to make room for others like cars on a speeding freeway. A flash of Catarina wearing kitten ears with matching paws but not a shred of more clothes. It was replaced by Catarina dressed up in a sheer nightie, the spaghetti straps rolled down to expose her little breasts. It did not stick around long before Catarina was joined by Lillian, both buried in a pile of sheets and pillows up to their chins, beckoning Rosalind over to discover for herself if they were wearing anything underneath.

The orgasm caught them off guard. Rosalind did a half-sit up, clutching the girl tightly to her middle with her mouth open in a silent scream. It was the only thing she could think to do, grasp onto anything (or anyone) like an anchor and ride out the tidal waves of pleasure.

How long her orgasm was sustained, Rosalind did not know. The force of the intense pleasure blanked her mind, enveloped her very being in a cocoon of sensual delight. Her body had burst open, exposing herself like a nerve for all to see. She felt like a bonfire that got out of control, escaped its pit and threatening to engulf anyone fool enough to be caught idling too near.

God, had she ever come so hard in her life? She was having a difficult time focusing her attention on much of anything, but she doubted it. Rosalind had taken only five other lovers before, two of them college one-night stands. She enjoyed those experiences. She enjoyed the intimacy, the closeness she felt while those men moved on top of her. Rosalind liked to rake her fingers through their hair while they thrust into her and wrap her legs around their working thighs. She conjured up those times now, drew them out of the haze, compared those lovers to Catarina without meaning to.

It suddenly occurred to Rosalind the key difference to all those sexual encounters. While those men had been passionate and eager, not one of them had managed to bring her to orgasm on his own. She had a few close calls, but the climax was always the same: He would finish and roll away and offer her some platitudes, how ‘hot’ or ‘amazing in bed’ she was while fighting to stay awake. Rosalind had always been too polite to do anything more than snuggle into their arms until they drifted off to sleep. Only then would she dare to slip away onto her side and finish the job they started and bring herself to a paltry orgasm.

Catarina’s flushed smile appeared out of the fog, hovering above. Their lips met again only there was no wantonness to it now. Her work was done now and the way her eyes shined, she was feeling more than pleased with her performance. “I hope you enjoyed your massage, ma’am,” she cooed, their mouths inches apart. She spoke just above a whisper, so close Rosalind felt the words rather than heard them. She nodded her head, breathing too hard to reply properly. She was having doubts if she would ever get her breath back after Catarina…

Rosalind had turned a corner in her life. Before her stretched a long, unfamiliar avenue and there would be no going back. She was lost now, a veritable Pandora’s Box that could never be closed again. It was a frightening notion to dwell on and Rosalind found herself searching the table for her towel. what would become of her now that this beast had been awakened? Would she find her eye drawn to the bodies of children while waiting in line at the supermarket? Would she linger on the way their clothes hugged against their frames until it was committed to memory for later and she could fuck herself into another thrilling climax, desperate for another session with Catarina and her magic fingers on her massage table?

Perhaps sensing Rosalind’s growing apprehension, Catarina’s traced a finger along the older woman’s chin, drawing her gaze back until their eyes had met again. “You will come back and see me again, won’t you?” It wasn’t a manipulative gesture. Catarina perhaps said this to all her clients, but it was a sincere gesture of compassion to help calm Rosalind’s nerves. “I would love to massage you like that again.”

Rosalind shivered at the thought but abandoned her search for the towel, lost in those Spanish eyes. Her mind flashed back to the waiting room, to the clipboard and a series of boxes in the middle marked ‘Sensual Massage.’ There was even a little space to write in which masseuse she preferred.

Catarina smoothed her thumb over Rosalind’s bottom lip, leaned forward, kissed it gently.

Lillian appeared at their side. Rosalind had not heard her move. She had the towel folded over her arm like a bathroom attendant. She was all smiles.

“Thank you, Catarina,” She chirped, helping the girl down from the table. “It’s always fun to watch you work.”

Catarina used one of the spare towels to pat her front down, making a playful slap at Lillian with the towel. “Oh, you! So bad!” She sniggered and stuck her tongue out. “You tease but never join. Why is that?” The banter was so casual and wouldn’t have looked out of place in any other work environment. Rosalind marveled at them, unable to will herself off the table just yet.

Lillian waited until Catarina had pulled the smock over her head and offered to zip her before replying. “I wouldn’t want to steal her away from you! That would cut into your tips!”

Rosalind blinked. Was she supposed to tip? She hadn’t bothered to bring any cash with her…

Sensing her distress, Lillian leaned over, “You don’t really need to tip. That was a joke.”

Catarina busied herself with the lotion bottles and towels, tidying up for the next client. She took the stack of Rosalind’s clothes and brought them over, but Lillian laid a hand on them first, lowering the bundle to the table.

“You seem to be very comfortable now, Rosalind,” Lillian intoned. “Perhaps you would like to spend the rest of your visit as you are?”

Rosalind was taken aback by the idea. She looked down at her naked body as if seeing it for the first time. The fullness of her breasts, the supple expanse of her thighs, the thatch of dark pubic hair…she remembered the women at the pool. Patricia Wilson, fiancée of some energy magnate who likely knew nothing of her spa visits, chasing two naked children into the pool. Could Rosalind be so bold? Would she ever be able to laugh so gaily, indulge her perversion so easily?

Rosalind’s heart fluttered, desire wrestling with reason and everything she had been brought up to believe. Lillian smiled patiently, pushing the articles against Catarina’s smock. “Will you please see that these are cleaned and wrapped up for our guest?”

Catarina nodded, catching the older woman’s eye. “Of course. They will be waiting for her.” She wasn’t talking to Lillian though. She smiled knowingly, “There is no reason to be shy here. This is the Garden of Eden, and there is no shame, see?”

She bounced out of the room then, skipping on her stockinged feet with Rosalind’s bundle of clothing clutched to her abdomen. It did not fill the older woman with apprehension, watching her leave. She wondered if she would ever feel embarrassment again. She wondered if she cared.

They watched her go, neither making a move until the door slid shut behind her. Lillian helped Rosalind down too, “Would you like to go for a swim now? Perhaps join Ms. Wilson and her attendants?” She was so polite and proper, speaking about such lewd things as if they were remarks about the weather. It gave Rosalind a thrill that would no longer be denied. She wanted to know her more, to know what it was like for the girl to say words like ‘pussy’ or ‘fuck’ or…her tummy gave a tug. Cunt, yes, that would be the hottest of all….

“I would suggest a steam but you’re plenty overheated already,” she teased before tapping a contemplative finger to her cheek. “I could show you the communal baths? Those are quite popular here, though not as much as the massage tables.” Lillian spied something on Rosalind’s face. She chuckled, “What? You have an idea?”

Rosalind nodded, wetting her lips before speaking. “I…would like to have you escort me to the communal baths.” Lillian nodded and made a motion for the door, but she wasn’t finished. “…naked.”

Lillian glanced back around, a hint of surprise arching her eyebrows high. “Naked, you said?” Without another word, Lillian unzipped her smock and slipped it easily over her head.

The smock flittered to the floor and she bent down to roll the stockings down her slim thighs, uncovering unblemished skin one inch at a time. Rosalind took a step back, admiring the girl’s body as it was slowly revealed to her. Sensing the eyes playing on her body, Lillian turned slightly as she worked on her stockings, bending over a little further and showing off her plump buttocks. It occurred to Rosalind how criminal the spa uniforms were. Soft and professional as they were, the layer of clothing was featureless and undistinguished. In an establishment like this, why would you hide beautiful pearls inside such unflattering clams? Rosalind tried to imagine an alternative, picturing Lillian and Catarina in skirts so small they might have been doilies, then again in harnesses straight out of a Marilyn Manson music video, but it was a fruitless exercise and Rosalind began to understand. The attire, no matter how unflattering, exuded professionalism and class. The spa was far more than just a brothel but an upper-class establishment catering to women whom society would otherwise shun and demonize. Here, they were treated as honored guests indulging in relaxation techniques not found anywhere else in the world.

Lillian folded the stockings over into a tight ball and dropped them into a pile with the smock, standing before Rosalind in only her panties. Her thumbs were looped into the strings at her hips, hesitating. “Would you like to remove these, madam?”

Rosalind had to grit her teeth to keep them from chattering, so pent up with nervous anticipation. “O-of course…”

She stepped forward on legs made of bread sticks and carefully knelt before the child. Their eyes met and held until the last shred of the girl’s clothing was off. Rosalind wished later she had done it with her teeth.

“You may keep them, if you like,” Lillian smiled.

Rosalind made a motion to toss them aside with the rest. “I can have them?”

Lillian chuckled naughtily. “So you’ll remember to come back and see me again.”

Rosalind wet her lips and closed her hands over the pair of panties, folding them carefully into a square that fit into the palm of her hand. She did not dare smell them now for fear of what it might make her do…

Lillian offered her hand to help Rosalind back to her feet. Rosalind took it but did not bother to rise. She was so close to the girl now and studied her sex from inches away. It was so incredibly perfect, Rosalind had never seen something so lovely. The little petals of her flower so supple and fair, radiating an exquisite fragrance. She longed to pull them apart again, to see the rose-pink bud within but was afraid of hurting Lillian in her excitement.

“Have you been with many women?” Rosalind blurted the question out. Surprising, given how dry her mouth was. Could something so flawless have ever known sex?

“Oh, yes,” the girl said, taking both of Rosalind’s hands in hers and raising her up. “Many, many women. Far too many to count.” There was no shame in her admission, no guilt. If anything, she seemed amused by the question. “I don’t have to ask you the same question. Catarina was your first.”

Rosalind felt her cheeks redden but had no idea why. Did it really matter if she had never been with a woman? Did it really matter how many women Lillian had been with? The spa was no place for modesty or shaming anyone for their sexual nature. Yet, she had to know more….

“Did you…I mean, were you ever….?”

Lillian led them back into the hallway, patiently waiting for Rosalind to puzzle out her question in just the right way before it became clear that it was hopeless. “You’re asking, if I was forced to work here against my will?”

Rosalind looked relieved, nodding eagerly. “Yes, yes, that!”

It was a question the girl had answered countless times before. She could anticipate them now, they always came up with the first timers. “I’ve lived at the spa for as long as I can remember,” she explained, leading Rosalind down a corridor. They were holding hands. “Most of the staff here were runaways or abandons or taken in as fosters. Others were rescued from…less reputable places, like the spa only…not.” Her voice took on a dark, ominous tone, speaking about those places before evening out again. “My parents gave me up for adoption when I was a baby, but Catarina came from an orphanage in El Salvador. Ask around, you’ll get all kinds of stories, some of them are heartbreaking.”

“And you are…happy here?”

Lillian enthusiastically nodded. “Of course! They take care of us, feed us, make sure we get a good education.” She grinned like a cat. “Have all the sex we want.”

Rosalind had to admit, that did not sound half bad.

“And we get to choose which clients we service and have total say in what we do with them during the visit and can say ‘No’ at any time to anyone for anything.”

Rosalind asked, “What happens when you grow up? This place only caters to one kind of client, so what happens when you’re too old for most of the women who come here?”

“We graduate at 18 and the spa sets us up with an apartment somewhere, helps the girls get good jobs and adjust to living in the…” she made little air quotes with her fingers. “…real world. They get us into good colleges and careers since we’re all so well-connected. Most of the girls go on to live normal lives, get married, have families. You’d never know they grew up in a place like this at all, by talking to them.”

Rosalind smirked. “Anyone famous that I would know?”

“Probably, but I can’t say.”

They shared a laugh. Their linked hands swung easily between them, old friends out for a stroll through the halls.

Lillian took the lead and directed Rosalind to a tall set of doors. “Here we are.”

The floor gave away to tiles now, opening to a pristine white locker room that Rosalind’s entire apartment could have fit inside. The sound of countless showerheads all running at once filtered in from the adjacent rooms. Her guide was quick to stow the gifted pair of underwear in one of the empty lockers.

The path narrowed and wound around tightly before widening up again. Rosalind was not the least surprised to find it a wide barren room, with no divides between shower stalls at all. Stainless steel snakes slithered from the walls, spitting steaming water down onto a dozen or so naked bodies, half hidden in all the steam. Their hands linked again, Rosalind curling her fingers tightly around the girl’s palm. It had been muffled within the walls, but the moans of Sapphic pleasure were deafening now.

Ghostly apparitions flickered in and out of the haze. A dark-haired woman had her back pressed up against a bare wall, both hands cupping her own breasts while a youth half her size buried a tongue between her legs.

Beside them, a short blonde woman had her head bent down low so a girl that could not have been any older than five massaged shampoo into her scalp.

Further still, a tall African American woman was seated beneath the showerhead, cradling two girls at either side of her amble breasts, writhing as they suckled greedily at her large nipples.

Lillian guided her to a vacant spot above a drain and twisted the knobs until a hot blast of water drenched them.

The sounds and heat were beginning to be too much, and Rosalind slumped against the wall, pressing her back into the heated tiles. She tried to shut her eyes and focus on the sound of running water, hoping the white noise would help her get her bearings. The sounds of sex only grew, the woman beside them climaxing loudly.

Her thighs parted on their own volition. She looked over, catching the woman in the throws of passion and caressed herself. Rosalind’s cleft was sobbing, and her fingers slid inside easily, sending electric sparks into her abdomen. “Oh God,” she cried. “Oh God, oh God!”

When she opened her eyes, they fell upon Lillian, looking heavenly beneath a spray of water. Her body was steaming, Aphrodite birthing from the sea, looking so bold and proud and Rosalind just knew she would be someone of great esteem someday. Lillian would grow into a state senator, an ambassador or maybe a philanthropist like Veronica Winters. She could see it so clearly in her mind, it was like looking through a kaleidoscope and into the future. Their eyes met briefly before Rosalind’s eyes rolled away with a fresh wave of pleasure radiating from her core.

Their bodies met beneath the hot jets, their mouths a moment after. Rosalind kissed her desperately, parched for the girl’s affection, fingers still working feverishly between her thighs. Lillian met her pace, indulged her urgency but only briefly. Her kisses drew back, becoming less intense, willing Rosalind to slow her pace. She picked up the thread and stilled the hand on her sex. Drawing it away felt like a knife being plucked from her heart. The lust she had felt with Catarina roared back to life. The bonfire was a towering inferno. Denied for eons, her phoenix of desire would finally spread its great wings and soar.

The last knot in her mind that still clung to social pressures about what sort of desire was deemed acceptable, the final barrier between the woman and the girl, gave way and Rosalind was free.

Her forced desire for a man’s touch would be erased. She would never take another man to bed again.

Rosalind encircled Lillian into her arms, drawing her into a tender embrace. The blaze fed on the girl as if she were kindling, but it was contained. She could savor the sensation of slick skin and the scent of soap. It gave her time to appreciate the subtle beauty in their lovemaking. Yes, she was making love to this girl, this child and she felt no shame. She wondered if she would miss that side of herself that had clung to conservative ideas of what love could be.

Later, she decided. I’ll worry about that later. For now….

She touched Lillian’s chin, looking into her eyes from inches away. “I have to have you, Lillian,” she intoned. The declaration drew the faintest of smiles from Lillian. She had known all along where their time together would take them, and now that it was here at last, she looked serene. “What is it you have to have?”

Rosalind took a trembling breath. “I need to taste you. I need to have you in my mouth while I come.”

“I think I would like that very much.”

Rosalind’s knees nearly fell out from beneath her. Rosalind had never wanted anything more in her life. Christmas presents, high school crushes, job offers and college acceptance letters….nothing compared.

Cliché as it was, Rosalind kissed her way down the child’s throat, her cool lips leaving ghostly imprints in her flesh, there and gone in an instant. She took special care at each nipple, lavishing each in turn with special kisses and flicks of her tongue. The older woman was delighted to feel them swelling to needle points between her lips and only allowed herself to move on when Lillian pressed her lower.

She pecked at the girl’s belly, making a trail until she breached her pubis.

Shower water cascaded around them, creating rivulets on her pale body before meeting at a waterfall over the girl’s sex. Rosalind opened her mouth to it, drinking in the tap water that tasted faintly of…her. Lillian’s hands caressed Rosalind’s cheeks, rising onto her tip-toe. Gingerly, she drew Rosalind’s mouth to her.

I’m going to do it, the woman realized dizzily. I’m going to eat someone’s pussy. No, not someone’s. Lillian’s. Lillian’s pussy. It was always supposed to be her….

The girl’s sex exploded against her tongue like a ripe peach, overwhelming Rosalind and nearly driving her to climax. Lillian gasped above her. She felt the girl’s fingers flexing into Rosalind’s scalp, holding her head in place while her mouth explored. The taste grew with the child’s arousal, thickening on her tongue. Rosalind wrapped her arms around Lillian’s middle, holding her steady while she savored the most intimate of places. Her gentle cries gradually formed words. “Oh, Rosalind. Oh, God, yes, right there! You’re going to make me come!”

The idea of Lillian cumming in her mouth filled her up with a lewd thrill and she could not longer deny herself. A hand flew to her own sex that sent lightning bolts thundering through her body. She moaned into Lillian’s small sex, her cries muffled but growing in intensity. Their arms and fingers clawed at one another’s body, frantic to stay connected.

“Rosalind I’m cumming! I’m going to cum please god, don’t stop I’m-!”

Rosalind had her tongue so far inside she felt the girl’s walls tense around her, could literally feel her orgasm take hold. It was immediately followed by a flood of fresh nectar that she happily drank down. It burned in her throat and nose like liquid fire.

Her lapping and suckling was only stopped by a hard orgasm of her own. Her abdomen bunched up and she would have pitched away if not for her and Lillian’s fierce embrace. They remained cradled together until the intensity of their shared pleasure subsided and gravity returned to the world beneath them. 

***

Veronica Winters emerged punctually from her own sensual stay three hours later and found Rosalind seated in the lobby where she had left her. For a brief, irritating moment, she feared her secretary had declined what she truly believed to be a wonderful, life-altering experience. Then her keen eye took notice of Rosalind’s still damp hair, worn down now and combed out to curl loosely at her shoulders. Her clothes, too, looked freshly pressed, but most telling of all was the way the woman carried herself. There was an ease to it now. Her shoulders were raised and straighter, head higher with an out-thrust chin. A world’s worth of weight had been lifted, just as Veronica predicted it would. The therapy here did not take years or months or even weeks to reveal results.

“I trust you enjoyed yourself,” Veronica stated. “What’s that you have there?” She nodded to the woman’s hands, clutched protectively between her knees.

Shyly, Rosalind opened her palms up, revealing a pair of child-sized underwear. The sight pleased Veronica immensely, and she allowed herself a smile. She recognized the pattern as Lillian’s right away. The girl gave them to all first-timers, and they had become something of a right of passage at the spa. Like Mickey Mouse ears at Disneyland, you did not leave without a souvenir. Ms. Winters herself had a pair just like them at home that she cherished dearly. They still smelled faintly of Lillian.  During times of duress, she would take them out of their box in her room and hold them in her hand or to her nose until she could collect herself again and get back to work. But there was no reason to tell Rosalind that now. Let her enjoy that specialness, she thought, gesturing to the door.

It was time to leave.

The End