Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By DirtyMindedMom

The next day I was feeling more awkward than ever. My mom seemed fine, but every time I saw her I dreaded what she might say. She must have sensed I was uncomfortable because she didn’t bring up any of the stuff we’d talked about the night before.

That night, after my dad had done his duty and set it up, mom and I were decorating the Christmas tree. This was more like it — a nice wholesome evening with mom and one of my favorite holiday traditions.

“You’ve been awfully quiet today,” she said after we’d untangled three strings of lights.

I shrugged, trying to think of what to say that wouldn’t take us in a weird area again. “It’s nice to be able to turn off my brain after everything going on at school.”

“Everything going on, as in your studies? Or everything as in Kaylee’s hot ass?”

Damn, she wasn’t going to let me get off the hook that easy. “C’mon, Mom, get your mind out of the gutter for one night.” I wasn’t going to let her pull me in. I dug out the box with my favorite ornaments — a set of sparkly glass icicles. “And I never said Kaylee had a hot ass.” Double damn!

She laughed. “I just assumed you’d be attracted to someone with a body as sexy as yours.”

“Mo-om! Cut it out!”

“Oh, please.” She tossed some stray tinsel at me. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what a beautiful figure you have.” She goosed me as I was trying to get the silver strands out of my hair.

“I do not, and even if I did we don’t need to talk about it.”

“Don’t be a Grinch. Talking is good.” She handed me some bulbs and pointed to where she wanted them hung. “Like our talk last night.”

She was like a steam locomotive stuck on one track. “Did you get candy canes?”

Mom ran to the kitchen and came back with a box of red and white striped peppermint sticks. “I was thinking about what you said,” she went on, unwilling to be distracted.

“Okay, fine,” I sighed with resignation. “About what?”

“About how you were afraid to try anything with that girl because you didn’t have any experience.”

“Yeah, that’s part of it.”

“Well…” she stalled by opening a new package of ornament hooks. “I… I had an idea.”

She was suddenly having a hard time looking at me. I’d never seen her act this uncomfortable. What was going on with her? “An idea for what?”

“You’ll probably think this is crazy, and I suppose it is, but I want you to at least think about it before you say no.” She took a deep breath, but couldn’t get what she wanted to say next out.

“Mom? What is it?”

“I was just thinking that all you need is some experience being with another woman, and that maybe, if you wanted, you could practice with… me.”

I refused to believe I had heard what I thought I had just heard. Before I could scream and run out of the room, my mother rushed ahead with her pitch.

“I know it sounds weird, but, if you think about it, it makes sense. You’d be able to figure things out with someone who loves you and who you can trust. No matter what happens I wouldn’t laugh or judge or ever tell anyone, ever. And it’s not like I know anything either, so you wouldn’t have any reason to be embarrassed for not knowing what to do, and you could take your time, and no one would ever know, and I could help you figure it all out, and—”

“Mom! Stop!” My mind was still reeling. “Take a breath.” I waited while she took my advice. “First of all, weird and crazy doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re suggesting. And also first of all, no, no way, no how. I am not doing that with you, and I can’t even believe that you’d think of something like that.”

She looked crestfallen, which I hated seeing. After a few seconds, she drew herself up and put on a brave face. “Oh, you didn’t think I was really serious, did you?” She laughed unconvincingly and gave me a playful push as she moved around to the other side of the tree. “God, what kind of mother do you think I am?”

“One that wouldn’t joke about something like having sex with her daughter.”

“Shhh!” she hushed me with a glance toward the stairs. “Your father might still be awake.” I could see her hand still shaking from the adrenaline rush of opening up to me with her improbable suggestion.

“Maybe I should go up and see if he wants to help me ‘practice’ some,” I said snidely.

My mom was quiet for a few moments while she hung my “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament.

“I’m sorry,” she said in a soft voice. “I was just trying to help…” her voice caught and she forced a smile. “…help lighten things up. You’re taking this stuff with your friends at school way too seriously. You’re young, you should be having fun, not stressing over every little thing.”

“Can we not talk about this anymore and just decorate the tree?”

“Sure. Hand me some more tinsel, and try not to get it all tangled up in your hair this time.”

We pretended like everything was normal after that, but we both knew it wasn’t. I did all I could not to think about what my mother had dropped in my lap, but every time I looked at her, that idea of hers was front and center in my mind again. How could my world have changed so much after only one semester away at college?

*****

Three days later, after my father had gone off to bed, I asked my mom if we could talk. Of course, she said yes. We sat in the living room, me on the loveseat, her on the sofa. I held a throw pillow in my lap. My Psych 101 class had taught me enough to know this meant more than it seemed. Mom was aching to talk first, but she held her tongue and let me get things started.

“I know what you said the other night wasn’t a joke,” I began without preamble.

Mom waved me off with a nervous laugh. “Oh, honey, are you still hung up on that?”

“Yes, Mom, I am. Very much so. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about what you suggested.”

“Oh, that was just the spiked eggnog talking. Let’s not worry about it.”

“I’ve been masturbating a lot over the past few days,” I told her straight out. This got her attention. “More than usual. And every time I do, it’s you I’m thinking about.”

Mom actually blushed at hearing this. “I… I didn’t mean for that to happen, honey. I’m sorry for making such a stupid joke…” She trailed off as if hoping I would interject. Which I did.

“Like I said, I know it wasn’t a joke, Mom. You meant what you said.” I looked her straight in the eye.

She wasn’t able to laugh it off any longer. “It was wrong of me to say that… to put you in that position…”

“The fucked up thing is, Mom… I’m thinking of taking you up on your offer.”

“No, sweetheart, you don’t have to…”

“Let me say what I have to say.” I put the throw pillow aside, got up and went to sit next to her on the sofa. “You missed out on your chance back in college because you were scared. I get that you don’t want me to have the same kind of regrets that you do. But you came up with a really fucked up way to help me through it.”

“I know, Emily. I never should have—”

I took her hands in mine and she held back her words.

“I understand that you came up with this idea because you thought it would help me and give you a chance to make up for the one thing you missed out on when you were my age.”

Mom was doing everything she could not to let a tear fall. “And that’s not fair of me to put that kind of burden on you.” She pulled me into a hug. “All I want is for you to be happy and to be whatever it is you want to be.”

“I know, Mom.” I had to fight the tears myself. “And that’s why I want to try it.”

She pulled away and looked at me, searching my face for clarification. “Try what?”

“Practicing with you.”

A sob caught in her throat. She pushed a stray strand of hair back behind my left ear as she processed what I’d said. “You don’t…”

“Yes, I do,” I said, cutting her off. “I realize how crazy it is, but I also see how it makes perfect sense in its own weird way. I love you, Mom, more than anyone in the world. And I do trust you, just like I know you trust me. It’s completely insane, and yet somehow the only safe way forward for me. I want to have sex with you.”

My mom blinked and tried to say something, but the words didn’t come. She squeezed my hands in hers and struggled to respond somehow.

“The truth is, Mom, I can’t stop thinking about your pussy. Ever since I got home, I’ve been picturing what you look like naked. What you look like when you’re masturbating. I keep thinking about you fucking yourself with the dildo you told me you bought, and imagining you between my legs eating my pussy.” Was I actually saying these things out loud to my own mother?

“Really?” She didn’t want to let herself believe it. “It’s been like that for me ever since that day I found your vibrator in your panty drawer. I came so hard knowing that the dildo that was inside me had also been inside you.” She wiped the wetness from her cheek. “I knew it should have felt wrong to think that way, but somehow it didn’t.”

“I know, Mom. It’s been exactly the same for me.” I brought her hands up and kissed them in a gesture of assurance. “I tried not to let you into my fantasies, but I can’t resist it for some reason. I get that it’s the last thing I should ever want, but now it’s the only thing I do want. Every time I play with myself, all I can think about is you, and your naked body, and the things we might do together. It makes me come so hard that I can’t take it anymore.”

“You have no idea what a relief it is to hear that,” she said. I could almost see the weight of the past few days being lifted off her shoulders. Her eyes looked into mine. “So, what do we do now?”

I swallowed hard knowing what I was dying to say but afraid to say it. I did anyway.

“Well, Mom, maybe we could start with you letting me lick your pussy…”

*****

I was still smiling the next morning whenever I thought about the shocked scream my mother let out when I’d told her what I wanted to do to her.

She obviously loved hearing me say it, but it’s not the kind of thing a mother is ever prepared to hear from her daughter. She was as giddy as I’d ever seen her, but she insisted that we not do anything with my dad in the house. We agreed that we’d wait until the next day when he was at work before we began “practicing.”

There was a tap at my door. “Who iiiis it?” I sang out, knowing exactly who it was.

“It’s me,” came Mom’s answer. Even through my door I could hear the nervous waver in her voice.

“Come in.” The butterflies went bananas in my stomach when my door opened and I saw my mom standing there in nothing but a towel, fresh from the shower.

She stepped into my room and closed the door behind her despite the fact that we had the house to ourselves after my dad left for work over two hours ago. It felt strange that we were doing this in the morning with broad daylight streaming through the curtains, but it was clear neither of us wanted to wait until the afternoon. Besides, I decided that everything was going to feel strange about this thing we were doing, so none of the rules of the real world applied.

“Your father can never find out about this,” she warned with a furrowed brow.

“Mom, for the millionth time, I know. What do you think I’m going to do? Make an announcement at Christmas dinner? Hey, everyone, guess what — me and mom are humping!”

“Well, if you do, don’t use the word ‘humping.'” At least she hadn’t totally lost her sense of humor. “You ready for this? Last chance for you to come to your senses before this happens for real.”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She looked at me lying on my bed. I had taken my shower earlier and was now in one of my long nightshirts. No bra or panties underneath, of course. I only realized then that the big picture of Spongebob Square pants on the front of my shirt might be spoiling the mood.

My mom took a deep breath and let her towel drop.

“Holy shit, Mom!” I blurted out.

She covered her tits and crotch with her hands and looked around in a panic. “What? What is it?”

“No, it’s just your body. How do you still look that friggin’ hot at your age?”

She visibly relaxed even as the blush came to her cheeks. “Don’t scare me like that. I thought you heard your father coming home or something.” She let her hands fall to her sides with a shrug. “You know me, I’m just one of those obnoxious people with a good metabolism. All I do is go for a walk a few times a week. This is just what I look like, I guess.”

I devoured her with my eyes. It was even better than my fantasies, if that was possible. Her jet black hair hung straight over her shoulders, but thankfully wasn’t long enough to cover her breasts. Her tits were only slightly bigger than mine, and with just a bit more sag to them. For a woman her age, they looked fantastic. Her light brown areolae were slightly oval and canted at jaunty angles. The nipples sat dead center and protruded with a delicate roundness that promised delights beyond their modest appearance.

My mom’s belly was almost flat, with just enough of a swell to betray her still fertile maturity. I could see the faint lines of stretch marks hashing her lower tummy, but these only made her all the more attractive to me. Her pubic hair was trimmed into a neat triangle. I couldn’t help imagining her tending to that dark patch in private, spreading her legs, carefully maneuvering the razor around her most sensitive areas, trying to make her pussy look as attractive and as presentable as possible. Did she do it for my father, or for her own gratification? Whichever it was, I admired the effect.

Up until this moment, I had always thought of Mom’s legs as her best feature. They looked spectacular in a nice pair of sheer pantyhose, but they were also breathtaking when bare. Her slender thighs showed the contours of her taut muscles, and her calves tapered elegantly to ankles that any girl would kill for. Even without the benefit of heels, she looked like a come-fuck-me runway model.

“Damn,” I said in amazement, “I hope I look half as good as you when I’m your age.”

“Well, what do you say you get out of that silly shirt so I can see what you look like at this age?”

I loved that my mom was as eager to see me naked as I was to see her. The butterflies moved up to my chest as I pulled the shirt off over my head. I couldn’t remember the last time I was naked in front of my mom, but it must have been a bath time many, many years earlier.

Her eyes took me in. I was self-conscious and excited at the same time to show myself off to her. She slowly took me in. I had enough highlights in my brunette hair that I could be mistaken for a dirty blonde (in more ways than one). She took in my middling B-cup breasts with what appeared to be lustful admiration. She was right about me having lost a few pounds since I’d gone off to school, which I was thankful for as her gaze roamed over the smooth flesh of my slim middle. It wasn’t long before my mother’s attention focused just a little lower.

I became lightheaded at the realization that my mom was staring at my naked pussy. I didn’t have enough hair down there to require trimming, so I left it natural. It was a light brown and fairly sparse. Even so, I had shaved my lips on either side of my slit this morning in anticipation of this moment. I opened my legs and displayed my cunt to my mom. I thought I heard her breath catch in her chest as I exposed myself to her in a way I never expected I would.

“Emily,” she gasped, “you are easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

Her words were like a warm shot of brandy flowing into my belly and spreading all through me. I had never been as horny with any of the guys I had been with as I was at that moment. Spreading myself in front of my mother was as turned on as I’d ever been in my life. I know how fucked up that must sound, but it wasn’t something I wanted to think about right then.

“Come get in my bed with me,” I said, holding out my arms like I did when I was little and wanted to be picked up.

I took in every graceful movement of her supple body as she joined me on my bed. “My God,” I whispered, “how does Dad keep his hands off of you for more than two seconds?”

She laughed as she settled in close to me. “Trust me, he manages it somehow.”

She took me in her arms with a hint of awkwardness. I felt my mom’s naked skin against mine for the first time. It was glorious and frightening all at once. She was trembling as she held me. It reassured me that she was as anxious about this as I was.

“How should we start?” I asked, honestly not sure what to do next.

“I was hoping you would know,” she giggled, sounding more like a horny college girl than a mature mother with a lifetime of experience. “Maybe we can just start by touching each other?”

I didn’t need more of an invitation than that. My hand went to her nearest breast.

Continue on to Chapter 4