Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Explaining Love and Other Bad News

By Cheryl Taggert 

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

When I awoke the next day, I did so slowly, as if watching as a steady rain lightened to a shower, then a sprinkle, before ebbing to a mist and finally just clouds before giving way to clear skies. As I moved through those stages into wakefulness, I realized I wasn’t alone, feeling the warmth of someone in the bed beside me.

Then I remembered. Marie was there. She had spent the night, and we had made love during our time before falling asleep in each other’s arms. We had professed our undying love for one another and as I opened my eyes, I expected to see her there beside me, which she was. As I’d wanted, she was the first thing I saw on the morning I didn’t want to dawn, and my heartbeat moved from a waltz to hard rock.

Her eyes were closed. For a moment I thought she was still asleep, but then I wasn’t as sure. When we are asleep, our breathing is deep, slow, and measured. Marie’s breathing, however, was anything but. Some breaths were deep, some shallow. None of them were slow, and they were certainly not measured. Was she dreaming of me? Someone else? Her breathing sounded…erotic, as if she were near climax.

Then I noticed her eyes. They were shut, but not just that. They were squeezed closed. Another sign of what appeared to be happening. I grew excited myself as the thought crossed my mind that she seemed to be having, well, a wet dream. Despite the fun we’d had the night before, my little button began to respond. Heat and moisture gathered there as the small nubbin of flesh gradually sprang to life.

I lay as still as I could, not wanting to wake the girl I loved so much. No, I wanted to watch her as she came.

It was at this point that my ears decided to wake up, and I heard something that let me know there was more to this than I had at first thought. It was true that I wasn’t alone since Marie was there. But Marie was also not alone, and not because I lay beside her. Someone else was in the bed. I could hear the sounds of a tongue licking something even wetter than itself. I didn’t need three guesses to know what that would be.

Barely moving, I peered down and noticed a large lump beneath the bed sheets. The lump moved slowly, shifting slightly either to gain more comfort or to gain access to something on Marie’s body.

It was Jenna.

While I looked at my little sister’s soft movements beneath the sheets, Marie spoke up, whispering. “Shh. Don’t wake Cheryl.”

Marie wasn’t asleep after all. She was awake. Fully awake and aware of what Jenna was doing.

For a moment I was jealous. Marie wanted to be with Jenna and not me. I was about to speak up when a thought occurred to me: It was okay to love me and enjoy someone else’s company. That had never really occurred to me before, but then I’d never been in love before. I realized that I certainly enjoyed Deanna’s company and would continue to do so. Marie would not be deciding to turn her back on the relationship she shared with her sisters and mother, just as I would not refrain from enjoying Mom and Jenna. And if Marie had a friend that she thought of the way I thought of Deanna, she shouldn’t break that friendship off, either.

Later, when I talked to Mom about my love for Marie and how it was different from my love for anyone else, including Deanna, I also mentioned my sudden revelation about relationships. Mom told me it was the most mature thing she’d ever heard from anyone, adult or child. I beamed at the compliment and felt my heart expand with the utter and complete love I had for my mother.

When I discussed my love for Marie with Deanna, it was a different matter entirely, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

I could hear the slurping noises Jenna was making as she licked Marie’s most sensitive spot. Marie’s face was clenching and her breathing becoming even more ragged than it had been.

She was definitely close to her orgasm, and this made me wonder how long they’d been busy having sex and trying to allow me to sleep through it.

Suddenly, Marie’s breathing turned to gasps. Small whimpers issued from her throat as she came. Her only movements besides her breathing were her hands grasping and releasing the sheets and a slight involuntary undulation of her hips.

As she calmed down from the pleasure my little sister had brought her, I decided to make my presence known. Inching my hand down toward Marie’s hip, I stiffened my arm and suddenly threw the covers aside, revealing Jenna scrunched down between Marie’s spread legs, her lips wet with Marie’s juices, her eyes glazed over with lust. It was odd that her eyes, barely ten-years-old, could look so adult when adult pleasures affected them. At the same time, her eyes showed surprise, but it was a sort of drowsy surprise due to the sexual desire coursing through her body.

I also noticed my sister had one hand at her pussy. She was kneading it like a cat when it “makes bread” on someone’s leg or a piece of furniture. Her hand would grab the wet inner and outer lips, squeeze the tender flesh, and then release it again before repeating the process. I knew this was how Jenna kept things simmering until someone could do more to help her achieve the orgasm she longed for. Either that, or she would masturbate fully and bring herself to climax.

Marie’s eyes, like Jenna’s, were a study in lust and surprise. Art was one of my favorite classes at school, and I hoped to remember that look to attempt painting it one day. I could still see the moisture that had built up on my lover’s hairless mound, which was completely wet with a mixture of her delicious natural lubricant and Jenna’s saliva.

I laughed at them. It wasn’t a mean laugh, more of a giggle of delight at catching them unaware.

“How long have you been awake?” Marie asked, smiling at me. Maybe it was my imagination, but I could see the unspoken “I love you” behind her smile.

“Since right before you came,” I said. Then I looked at Jenna. “Couldn’t wait, huh? What time did you sneak in here?”

Jenna looked slightly annoyed. “I didn’t sneak in! Marie came and got me!”

“You did?” I asked.

Then thinking I might be jealous, she rushed to say, “Yeah, but it’s only because I was super horny and didn’t want to wake you.”

I enfolded my lover in my arms and kissed her. “It’s okay. I’m not jealous.”

She looked at me, tears starting to form. “Whew! I sorta wondered if you would be.”

“Nope. After all, while I love you and want to make love with you, that doesn’t mean I own you or that you own me. It just means we’re in love.”

“You’re in love?!” Jenna shrieked, her eyes once again growing to large round orbs, her eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” we said, in unison. I grinned at Marie and she looked back at me, a rare shy smile decorating her face.

“Does Mom know?”

“Not yet, but don’t tell her. That’s for me to do.”

“Okay,” Jenna said, “but can someone get me off? I’m still real horny.”

I chuckled and said to Marie, “I’m sure you would like to do the honors.”

“I would love it!” she said. “I’ve never tasted a pussy that young before.” Then she added, “Well, except for my own when I was younger.”

Jenna scooted up to join us and, kissing me, lay down, spreading her legs to allow Marie to get to her pussy. As she watched Marie get into place between her legs, a smile of pure joy seemed permanently glued to her face.

Marie knelt and began to kiss Jenna’s inner thighs while lightly brushing her tongue across the flesh there as if her tongue were a paintbrush and she was decorating the world’s most delicate material.

Jenna’s hips and thighs trembled at the intimate contact.  Each tiny jolt caused a slight ripple in the trembling that was like an electric current radiating through her body.

Then Marie began to chew softly on the same flesh, moving toward the mound that rose proudly from Jenna’s tummy. My lover’s tongue then snaked out to touch the sensitive slit, swiping from the opening to Jenna’s vagina to her clit, and even beyond that to where the slit ended and the puffy mound took over once again. The tiny hill of flesh mesmerized me as I watched Marie’s expert tongue play with my sister’s bare pussy.

I felt as if I could experience what Jenna was feeling. My own mound tingled with the desire to have Marie’s tongue, lips, and teeth on me down there.

Marie continued to softly chew the fleshy area of Jenna’s pussy mound. Her outer labia grew pink and wet with the stimulation and saliva. The inner labia became red for the same reason. I had never devoured a pussy in this manner before, and the gentle chewing fascinated me. I could tell Marie was being very careful not to bite down too hard, but the chewing on the labia, both outer and inner, was obviously driving Jenna into a sexual frenzy.

I got closer and watched as Marie’s teeth were followed by her lips and tongue, as if the teeth would cause slight discomfort and the lips and tongue, relief. Yet I knew Jenna was feeling no discomfort at all. Quite the contrary, she was rocking her hips in an effort to increase the stimulation and moaning loudly.

At that moment, Mom opened my bedroom door to check out the festivities that were taking place on my bed. I saw her smile lovingly at Jenna and she stood and watched what Marie was doing to make the girl she viewed as her younger daughter go wild with sexual desire.

Then Marie sat up and placed her hand on Jenna’s vulva, squeezing it the way Jenna had been doing earlier, keeping the passion on a high simmer. I was impressed at how observant Marie was to have noticed this before. She hadn’t commented on it, but she’d taken the information in and was using it now to pleasure my sister.

I could see that what Marie was doing to Jenna was also making herself very hot as well. Without touching herself, her hips were undulating as if someone were licking her pussy. I wondered if she would achieve another spontaneous orgasm.

I glanced at Mom again and noticed she, too, was mesmerized by what was happening. She seemed totally unaware that she’d reached down and had pushed her hand inside her sweats and panties — if indeed she’d been wearing panties to begin with. Small moans wafted from her.

Then I became aware that my own hand had begun rubbing my pussy at some point. It was as if I looked down and discovered this strange hand masturbating me.

Then I recognized that some of the moans I was hearing were mine.

God, this was making me so hot!! I was drenched. My hand was making squishy noises as I spread my natural lubrication — what seemed like gallons of it — over my cunt. My clit was poking up from its fleshy hood, begging for release of the orgasm that I knew waited just out of reach for now.

Marie noticed my mom and smiled at her, stopping her licking of Jenna long enough to say, “Would you like to be next?”

It was at that point that Mom had what I assume was her first orgasm of the day.

Then Marie adjusted how she was lying on the bed and said to me, “Put your pussy against mine and trib with me.”

I wasted no time granting her wish, which was my wish too, as it turned out.

Marie went back to work on Jenna’s pussy, doing that erotic chewing thing as her lips and tongue worked in unison with her teeth.

Jenna’s climax was so powerful that she screamed. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” she cried out to nobody in particular as her orgasm consumed her. It sounded big enough to consume all of us, and in a way it did because I started coming at that moment myself. It was one of the best orgasms of my life to that point. It seemed to go on forever, and I didn’t mind one bit. I continued rubbing myself against Marie’s pussy, thinking how incredible this was.

Mom joined us on the bed, now naked as well. She bent over and started licking Marie’s recently shaved pussy, and Marie shifted over to sixty-nine with my mom.

And that was how my mom joined in on the sex with Marie. Of course, it was bound to happen, but it had been so unplanned. It seemed… natural.

After we all settled down, which was after Mom and Marie had come several times each, as well as Jenna and I after we finally got into our own sixty-nine beside them, I told my mom I was in love.

At first, she was worried that barging in and joining us might upset me, but of course it hadn’t. That’s when I told her about my philosophy on the idea that one can love a person yet be having various relationships with others as well. I used Deanna as an example.

“You might want to be careful about Deanna,” Mom said. “She may not take this as well as you hope.”

“She’ll be fine, happy for me, in fact,” I said, dismissing Mom’s warning, even though she looked extremely serious.

As it turned out, Mom’s comment turned out to be the understatement of the year.

******

After Marie went home a little after noon, I called Deanna. She was feeling much better, so I asked her if she wanted to come over for a little while, maybe even spend the night.

“My mom won’t let me go anywhere, but I think it’s okay if you come here, but I’m not sure about spending the night, at least not with me. Maybe you could sleep with Elizabeth. I’d suggest Mom, but Dad’s home, and while I think he’d love to see your naked bod in bed with them, I don’t think that’s what you have in mind.” She giggled at the scenario she’d created, and I joined her. Elizabeth was Deanna’s older sister, who was now seventeen, though she’d been only thirteen when I first touched her pussy.

“Ask, and I’ll come right over if I can. I have some things to talk to you about.”

“Why, what on earth could you think of to talk to little ole me about?” she said, mimicking Scarlet O’Hara in Gone with the Wind.

I laughed again, and as she went to ask if I could come over, I thought about our friendship. It was truly special. Not just because of the sex, though that certainly added a dimension or seven. We were just such good friends. We understood each other without having to explain anything, we laughed at the same stupid remarks and jokes, we frequently finished each other’s statements, and we would support each other no matter what.

I hoped that support extended to one of us being in love with another girl. I’d been confident with Mom and Marie about how Deanna would take the news, but the fact that Mom worried about it bothered me. She was usually right about those things, even though I was fairly certain she was wrong this time.

I was thinking how happy I was Deanna was feeling better when she picked up the phone. “C’mon over, city of Dover!” she said, which made me laugh again. Lately, she had taken to making these little rhymes in short statements like that. It had begun when we were watching this really old TV show called Happy Days and someone said, “See you later, alligator.” It had cracked Deanna and me up, especially after Mom told us the similar response, “After a while, crocodile.” She told us it was even a part of a song from that time that the show was supposed to be set, the 1950’s. We were thirteen, so it was hilarious.

About an hour later Mom dropped me off on her way to meet up with Gwen to get the latest about Cindy. She would pick me up about an hour later or so because Deanna’s mom had thought it best I not stay the night.

I walked to the door and rang the doorbell. When nobody answered after the first ring, I rang again.

A moment later, Deanna was there, holding the door open with a strange look on her face. “Mom said you must be the postman ‘cause you rang twice, but I don’t get it.”

I didn’t either. Her mom could be so weird sometimes with her vague comments.

“Can we go to your room and talk?”

“Sure,” she said and led the way upstairs. After she closed her door, she said, “We can’t, you know, do anything, though. Mom’s orders. I told her I’d masturbated like twice this weekend already, but she says that’s different.”

“Maybe if I had been the postman, she’d have let us,” I said, not knowing why I’d said it except that I was suddenly nervous about this conversation. Mom had said again that Deanna may not be thrilled, but I couldn’t understand why not, really. It wasn’t as if I didn’t still love her.

Deanna made this ‘who-the-fuck-knows?’ smirk and shrugged. Then she plopped down beside me on her bed. “So what’s up, buttercup?”

I grinned, consumed with love for my friend, but still knowing it was different from how I felt about Marie.

But that was what was up. She is my friend, not my lover, at least not in the way Marie was. I guess you could call us fuck-buddies.

“I kinda hafta tell you something,” I said.

She got this serious look on her face. It was obvious what I had to say was important and would require a lot of discussion.

“What is it?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern. “Is it about Cindy?”

“No,” I said, then paused. I had been pondering all day how to tell her, and I still hadn’t decided. Then it occurred to me that the simplest way was the easiest.

“I’m in love.”

She looked stunned. It was easy to see she wasn’t the object of my love. Had she been, the conversation would not have gone as it had. And the focus would have been if she was in love with me, not that I was in love.

She probably knew the answer before asking, but she asked anyway, perhaps because she could think of nothing else to say.

“Who with?”

“Marie.”

“I knew it!” Anger flashed.

“I still love you!” I said, trying to weaken the storm that was brewing.

“Great! But you’ll want to spend all your time with… her!” Tears were forming already and overflowing her beautiful eyes. I followed suit. I wasn’t sure whether her tears were of anger, sadness, jealousy, or all three. Maybe more.

Mine were all tears of anguish from the fact I’d caused my best friend in the world great pain.

Mom had tried to prepare me for this, but I’d insisted that Deanna would see no real problem with this and congratulate me for finding happiness, even if we were only thirteen. I had pictured this going differently, even while suspecting it might go the way Mom had said it probably would. I had pictured smiles, tears of joy, congratulations.

I’d gotten the worst Deanna could offer instead. I actually thought for a moment she was going to hit me.

“But—“ I began, but she cut me off.

“Fine! Fine! Go be with her! I’m sure she’ll make you super happy!” She threw a stuffed animal at me and stood up.

“Deanna—”

“You heard me! GET OUT! GO!” she yelled.

“Are you in love with me?” I asked.

“Duh!” she screamed at me, and I was floored. Her face had this “how in the hell could you not know?” quality.

I knew she loved me. We said it to each other all the time. “I love you” was just a part of our natural conversations, especially when parting or hanging up after a phone call. I had never considered how she meant it.

I’d never known she was IN love with me.

To me, they were different things, and they are. For a moment, I wondered if she knew there was a difference, but realized that of course, she did.

I just never had understood that my best friend viewed me romantically.

She was sobbing now and yelling louder.

“So GO! GO! GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE!” she screamed.

Suddenly Jessie, her mom, was at the door to her room, which she opened without knocking. Deanna’s sister, Elizabeth, was standing behind Jessie, looking concerned. I didn’t blame her. I had said or done something to make her sister lose her mind.

“Deanna!” Jessie scolded gently. “What’s the matter?”

Taking a look at her mother made her cry harder and run to her. Deanna hugged her mom tightly and sobbed into Jessie’s chest and shoulder. “Cheryl” … sob … “loves” … sob … “Marie.”

I stood there at a loss, oddly thinking Jessie and Elizabeth would jump me or start yelling at me or something. I felt I deserved it. I was crying too, but not as hard as Deanna. I’d broken her heart.

Jessie shushed her, stroking her hair and holding her. I could see in Jessie’s eyes she wasn’t angry with me and that she understood.

I wanted to tell Deanna about my philosophy, but of course it wouldn’t work now — she didn’t just love me, she was in love with me. And that made a world of difference.

No, Deanna wouldn’t understand my philosophy at all, no matter how mature my mom had said it was.

I just stood there and looked at my best friend, who had been grinning and laughing with me just two minutes before.

When Deanna looked back at me with something akin to hatred, I burst into sobs myself. I went to her and tried to hold her, too, but she would have none of it, pushing me away and yelling for me to leave.

Jessie muttered something and the next thing I knew, I was being escorted into Elizabeth’s room. She was seventeen now and had a boyfriend, though she sometimes still joined Deanna and me in bed, not to mention their mom. Her boyfriend knew nothing of this side of her, of course. “He’d just want to watch,” she had said, which was almost certainly true. I don’t know why these things occurred to me then, but I suppose I was in a brief state of shock, causing my mind to wander in confusion.

She led me to her bed and sat beside me, holding me as I cried. Every time I pictured that look Deanna had given me, my sobs began anew.

Yet I knew my pain over something like that was nothing compared to Deanna’s. I was hurt, but she was devastated.

“Shh,” Elizabeth said, holding me to her and soothing me by softly rubbing my back. “It’ll be okay.”

“How?”

“She’ll eventually understand and forgive you.”

That kind of made me mad. I’d done nothing wrong, really. I’d simply fallen in love with someone other than Deanna.

“Forgive me for what? Falling in love?”

“Yes. With Marie, not her.”

“How could I so easily destroy my friendship with Deanna in a matter of… seconds?” I asked, trying to stop my tears but failing.

“It isn’t destroyed,” Elizabeth said. “Just off the tracks.”

“Oh, yeah? Did you see the look she gave me?” I began to bawl again. “She hates me now!”

“She doesn’t hate you. She still loves you, in fact. She’s just hurt.”

“She hates me because I’m the one who hurt her.”

“She’ll get over it,” she said and paused before continuing. “You never knew?”

“That she was IN love with me? No.”

“That’s funny. Mom and I have known for at least a year. Before that it was friendship, maybe, but since she reached full puberty, it’s been full-steam-ahead love. That’s how I know she’ll get over it. She absolutely adores you.”

I considered that and how I’d hurt her without really understanding how she felt.

“I don’t deserve her,” I said, lying back on the bed.

Elizabeth lay back with me and continued to hold me. We said little more. I kept expecting her to put her hand down my pants or something, but she didn’t of course. I may have been upset, but sex was not what I needed right then, and Deanna certainly didn’t need to walk in and catch me having sex with her sister, no matter how often I had done it before.

I wondered if our relationship would change if we ever managed to work this out. She might decide she never wanted me to be with anyone else, sexually. She may want an exclusive relationship. I knew I couldn’t do that. I was not what could be called monogamous at all. I was capable of romantically loving only one person, but when it came to sex, that would never work. My libido was much too strong to ever be confined to having only one person satisfy it. I wasn’t sure it could be done, in fact, not even with Marie.

Then Jessie came into Elizabeth’s room and sat beside us.

“I’m sorry that happened,” she said. “She doesn’t mean it really. She’s just hurting right now.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said, but regretted it immediately.

“She loves you, you know,” Jessie said.

“Yeah, I finally figured that out,” I said and regretted that too. What was wrong with me? Jessie was trying to be helpful, and all I could do was be a smartass.

I looked at Jessie and could see she understood. She understood her daughter’s feelings and mine. I was grateful and pulled away from Elizabeth and hugged her, telling her I was sorry for being a bitch to her. She’d been like a second mom to me since I was nine. Four years in the life of a thirteen-year-old is a long time.

I cried some more but most of the tears were drained from me. I heard the doorbell and knew Mom was here to pick me up.

It was going to be one shitty ride home.

I went down and met Mom in the foyer at the bottom of the stairs. She could tell how things had gone by the look on my face and the red, tear-stained eyes.

As I walked out to the car with her to fill her in on what she could already guess, I looked at the landing of the stairs above us before the door closed and saw Deanna. She just watched me leave. There was no expression on her face at all. It was empty.

Like me, her tears had dried up, but the pain was alive and well.

I noticed Mom didn’t look too happy and I was sorry I had caused everyone so much pain until I remembered she had met Gwen. Was it bad news?

I got in the car dreading everything about the ride home and the night to come. My life had gone from ecstasy to devastation in less than twenty-four hours.

The good news was that Mom wasn’t sad because she’d gotten bad news about Cindy, but she had gotten bad news that sort of related to that. Kinsey Harris, the call girl who had spoken to Gwen about Cindy, though she’d not had much to tell, had disappeared too. That was unusual, to say the least. She’d been with her ’employers’ for three years. These girls didn’t ‘disappear’ until they were no longer useful. Mom said Kinsey was only twenty-four and still drop dead gorgeous, so she was definitely still ‘useful’ to them. To say Kinsey had disappeared was more like saying she had died, and it was probably more accurate.

The dark cloud that had descended on my life grew more ominous and threatening.

As I sat back in my seat, I muttered, “What next?”

Continue on to Chapter 33