Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By 3 Fingers Neat

The parking lot emptied and I found myself sitting in my car, staring straight ahead at nothing. Karen, the mother of one of my students, had just asked me to make love to her daughter.

I played her comments over and over in my mind: “She has a crush on you.” “Do you know whose name Chelsea moans when she’s fingering herself?” “Her bottom in a pair of panties is perfection, and her nipples are constantly poking through her tops when she’s cold. It’s just too much for me.”

I struggled with everything I’d heard, but it all added up to this: the mother of my favorite student, Chelsea, the darling eleven-year-old I’d fantasized about for months, had just offered her little girl to me to take as a lover.

My name is Kim Johnson. I’m a teacher at Spiritview Elementary School in Washington state, going into my third year there teaching fifth grade. I love my job. I can’t describe the joy it gives me, watching a young mind open up to new things. Of course, some kids take a while to grasp a subject, but that’s where I try all that much harder to help them learn. The reward of seeing that “Aha” moment in a child’s eyes, when a new concept becomes clear for the first time… that is why I teach.

I’ve had more than a few students that other teachers told me were lost causes. Can you imagine a teacher saying that about a student, much less a fifth grader? That’s when I do my utmost to help that student prove them wrong. Some kids have simply never learned how to learn. With these, I teach them to tackle their lessons one step at a time. I remind them that “Learning is like playing with building blocks. You put one block in place, then another and another until you’ve built a skyscraper of knowledge.” Kids need to know that it’s okay if they don’t have all the answers, as long as they possess the tools to get the information they need.

I first noticed Chelsea during my first year at Spiritview, when she was in third grade. Even then, she stood out.

Late one afternoon, early that year, I heard a commotion in the hall outside my classroom. When I stepped out to investigate, I found Jack, one of my more difficult fifth graders, being pushed back by a little blonde, all four feet, four inches of her. Jack was easily six inches taller, but the blonde wasn’t giving an inch as she defended another girl from Jack’s teasing.

I covered the distance to the fracas in an instant, grabbed Jack by the collar of his jacket and dragged him towards the principal’s office. With a quick glance over my shoulder I told the girls, “You’re coming, too!” as Jack scrambled to keep up with his jacket. I noticed that the blonde had an arm around her friend, telling her that she didn’t do anything wrong and not to be worried about seeing the principal.

Ms. Randall, our principal, asked to see the kids one at a time so she could determine the facts of the disagreement. The blonde stepped forward and, pointing an accusing finger at Jack, announced, “He did it. He was teasing Emily about her hair. She didn’t do anything wrong.”

Ms. Randall was taken aback, but calm in her response to the feisty little blonde. “You’re Chelsea Walker,” she said, then turned to the other girl, “and you’re Emily Foster. Is that correct? You’re both in Mr. Cooper’s third-grade homeroom?”

The girls nodded, then Chelsea spoke up again. “Emily didn’t do anything. She just got a new short haircut, and Jack was making fun of her for it.”

“Chelsea, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Let’s give Emily a chance to tell me what happened.” Emily was asked to go first and Jack was firmly instructed to wait in one of the chairs right outside the principal’s outer office, an area known to the other students as “Death Row.” That left Chelsea and me in the main office, where I got my first chance to introduce myself and take a good look at her.

“Chelsea, that was very brave, the way you stood up for your friend. My name is Ms. Johnson,” I said, extending a hand.

She reached out and shook it. “Is Emily going to get in trouble?”

“No, Chelsea. I think it’s pretty clear what happened. I’ll make sure to tell Ms. Randall what I saw.”

She broke into a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Ms. Johnson. You’re the best!”

While Emily and Jack took turns telling their sides of the event, I had a chance to sit and chat with Chelsea. I’ll admit that I was captivated by her from the start. Her long blonde hair, cute upturned nose and ready smile reminded me of a young Natalie Dormer. What stole my heart, though, was the way she focused all her attention on me, hanging on my every word. There I sat, a twenty-seven-year-old woman, in awe of a nine-year-old girl’s ability to make me feel like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. I fell in love with Chelsea that day.

After that rather unconventional meeting, Chelsea and I became good friends, though I was careful not to let my deepest feelings show. When we passed in the hall, we would exchange high-fives. She regularly dropped by just to talk, and when she needed advice, she would find her way to my classroom.

The summer before Chelsea entered fifth grade, I was excited to see her name on my homeroom list. On the first day of school, she was the first to arrive to class and immediately ran to me, arms wide, for a big hug. It was a great start to the school year.

Our growing closeness led to Chelsea inviting me to attend her soccer game, a request I was only too happy to accept. The chance to see her running around the playing field in cute shorts was too tempting to resist.

That was where I ran into her mother Karen, who proceeded to inform me that she knew I had a crush on her little girl, just from the way I was watching her out on the field. While I was trying to deny the plain truth, all the while looking around for the nearest exit, Karen hit me with a couple more bombshells. She, too, was sexually attracted to Chelsea, and her fear of giving in to temptation and making a move on her daughter was so great that she came up with the solution of finding the girl a grownup lover, namely me.

I was still seated in my car nearly an hour after the game had ended, the parking lot all but abandoned. My mind was working overtime, sorting through the conversation I’d had with Karen.

She had it all worked out. The day after Thanksgiving, I would take Chelsea away for the weekend. She and her husband Jim had rented a cabin in the mountains for a few days, and they would put Chelsea and me up in a nice hotel downtown until Monday morning, when I would drive the two of us to school. Jim was taking Chelsea to dinner that evening, so Karen invited me to drop by her house while they were gone to discuss the plan.

I looked at my watch and saw it was close to twelve-thirty. Chelsea and her father were leaving at four, so I had time to get home and go for a quick run to clear my head before I showered and got dressed up to visit Karen.

When I arrived at the Walker house, Jim and Chelsea were just leaving. I met them halfway up the stone path to the front door, and Chelsea immediately threw her arms around my waist. “Mom said you were coming over. She’s inside, making some of her yummy crab puffs. I’m so glad you came to my soccer game today! Do you like my dress? It’s new.” Stepping away, she did a pirouette for me.

Jim smiled down at his daughter, then extended a hand to me. “Don’t you wish everyone had that much enthusiasm?” he said as we shook.

“Mr. Walker, you should see her at school. This little rascal is like that all day long. It’s all I can do to keep up with her! And, yes, Chelsea, I love your dress.”

“Thanks!” she squealed, actually blushing.

“Please, call me Jim,” said Chelsea’s father. “When I’m traveling and I call to tuck my daughter in, she’s going on and on about the fun she had in your class that day. Chelsea’s a very lucky girl to have a great teacher like you.”

“Oh, I’m the lucky one, Jim. I wish all my kids were as kind, attentive and fun as she is.” Remembering that they were headed out to dinner, I asked, “Where are you going to eat?”

Jim gave me a wink. “It’s a surprise. I can tell you it has a killer view and fantastic food. We’d better be shoving off, actually; they’re really tight with the reservations at this place.” He took his daughter by the hand, and they made their way toward his Lexus. As he opened the door for her, Jim called out, “Enjoy the crab puffs. Chelsea’s right — They’re the best!”

“Bye, Ms. Johnson!” Chelsea cried before she climbed into the passenger’s seat. “Will you still be here when we get home?”

“I imagine I will,” I replied.

“Cool!” she exclaimed, flashing me a grin before pulling the car door closed.

As I watched them drive away, I heard Karen’s voice from the front porch. “Thanks for dropping by, Kim. Now, come on in before the food gets cold.”

After shutting the door behind me, Karen closed the distance between us and wrapped her arms around the small of my back, drawing me to her. “Kim, as of right now, you’re no longer Chelsea’s teacher. You’re my friend. Capiche?” The gentle kiss on my lips that followed clearly made the point that this was anything but a parent-teacher conference. “Come. I’ve got us set up on the back porch. The infrared heaters are on, so it’s nice and toasty.”

Seizing my hand, Karen led me towards the back of the house. The entire way there, I studied her petite figure with interest. It was evident that her workout program was getting great results. She stood barefoot in a pair of Levi 501’s that she filled perfectly, and a loose-knit gray sweater over a white blouse. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back in natural waves that caught the light as we moved through the rooms.

The back porch was dimly lit — just a string of small bulbs that ran along the railing and the underwater lights in the pool. There was a bottle of white wine and two glasses, set to accompany a plate of vegetables and a covered dish I assumed to be the promised crab puffs. Karen offered me a seat opposite her on a small couch, one of two that were adjacent from each other. We’d be able to curl up, each in our own corner, yet only inches apart.

I sat, expecting Karen to join me, but she remained standing. “Now that the family is gone, I can get comfortable.” With that, she removed the sweater. As she shook her hair out I saw she was wearing a thin white buttoned blouse that was opened to show her cleavage, her hard nipples visible through the material. No bra. “There. Now, I’m comfortable.”

“Very nice,” was all I could think to say.

Seating herself on the other couch, Karen poured us each a glass of wine. “Here’s to a new friendship,” she toasted, and we clinked glasses.

I glanced around, taking in the view. “Karen, your house and backyard are beautiful, and I love this patio. Do you and Jim spend much time out here together?”

She laughed. “Funny, but we never have. In fact, I don’t remember a time that Jim has ever sat on these couches, except when we have friends over or during one of our pool parties.”

“That’s really too bad. It’s so relaxing out here.” I took another sip from my glass. This wine is amazing, by the way. Oh, and how about one of those famous crab puffs? They’re all I’ve heard about since I got here.”

After a few glasses of wine, and more than a few crab puffs, I put a hand up when offered more. “Karen, those are delicious, but I’m full. This time it’s my turn to ask you for the recipe.”

“Thanks. I’ll email it to you. How about a tour of the homestead?” she said, adding “Bring your wine,” when I said yes.

The house was amazing, as nicely put together as she was. In fact, the more time I spent with Karen, the more impressed I became. She did yoga, ran and swam to stay in shape, and collected glass figurines, all while running a household and a successful one-woman marketing consultation business. As we passed a gorgeous baby grand piano, I asked if she played. I was stunned when she sat down to regale me with a short offering of Chopin. I was quickly becoming enamored with my new friend.

The final room we toured was Chelsea’s, a typical eleven-year-old girl’s living space. A bit messy and cluttered with some toys scattered about, decorated with posters from her favorite movies and TV shows. I was surprised to see that she’d put up quite a few photos of our class around the edge of her vanity mirror, mostly with me in them.

I stood at the foot of her bed and, gazing wistfully, imagined Chelsea sleeping there. Karen moved behind me and wrapped both arms around my waist, her face touching mine. “I know what you’re thinking. You’re imagining Chelsea lying in that bed, aren’t you? Maybe in a cute little nightie… maybe in nothing at all.”

“I am. I won’t lie to you. I think about her all the time. And yes, I do love to picture her naked.” I paused. “Are you truly serious about wanting me to make love to her?”

Karen slipped her hands under my blouse. My small breasts don’t require a bra, so much of the time, I don’t bother with one. I nearly swooned as she fondled my breasts and now very erect nipples.

“I want that more than anything,” she said. “Well, what I really want is to undress my daughter, then pleasure every inch of her beautiful body with my hands and mouth.”

“Oh, Karen, I want that too,” I whispered.

“I know that moms aren’t supposed to do those kinds of things to their little girls,” she continued. “But I want Chelsea to have a lover, to find out how good it can be with a woman before she starts thinking about boys.” She placed a warm kiss on my neck, making me sigh. “That’s where you come in.”

Karen lightly pinched my nipples, rolling them between her fingers and thumbs. The effect was immediate, a rush of warmth surging between my legs that made me dizzy.  My head lolled back against her shoulder and I breathed in the scent of Karen’s skin, feeling her right-hand travel down my tummy to the top of a very damp pair of panties.

As her fingers slid past my freshly shaved mound, Karen whispered, “You like to look at Chelsea’s ass. I’ve seen your eyes on it. I bet you want to cup that pretty bottom with both hands, while her naked body is pressed against yours.” She traced the opening of my cunt with a finger, making me whimper. “Do you fantasize about spreading her cheeks apart, then lightly stroking that sweet little rosebud with your finger? Or would you prefer to lick her there… the tip of your tongue gliding up and down through Chelsea’s crack? Do you dream of rimming little girls, Kim?”

“Yes!” I cried, past the point of knowing or caring. I felt my knees starting to buckle as Karen teased me closer and closer to release. “Please, please make me come.”

Karen braced me from falling as a massive orgasm raged through my body. I was filled with visions of Chelsea. The feel of her, the taste of her skin, her smell, the sound of the girl calling out my name as I gave her pleasure. I whispered that lovely name as my climax reached its peak — wanting her, needing her.

I came down from this sexual high, tiny shivers running through my body. Karen held me tightly against her, not letting me fall. Finally steadying myself, I turned to take her in my arms and assaulted her lips, cheeks and neck with kisses, whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Soon enough, my gratitude had hardened into raw, naked lust. I all but tore Karen’s blouse off, then my lips found her nipples. I licked and playfully bit those hard nubs, my hands gliding down until I was clutching her denim-covered ass. Dropping to my knees, I unbuttoned her 501’s and slid them to the ground, then pulled them off, followed by her thong. Quickly rising, I grabbed Karen’s ass with both hands, lifted her up, then threw her onto Chelsea’s bed. She landed with a bounce, and I was on top of her in an instant.

Looking deep into her eyes, I said, “Now, I’m going to show you what I want to do to your daughter,” and kissed her passionately.

Breaking away, I stood up and stripped out of my clothes, then knelt at the foot of the bed, grabbed Karen by the hips and dragged her ass to the edge. In one motion, I shoved her knees apart and back, so her pussy and anus were entirely exposed to me.

Without hesitation, my lips smothered her asshole in a deep, hungry kiss. I made my tongue into a point and speared it into her, then licked my new lover from her anus to her clit.

Karen grabbed my head, her fingers entwined in my hair as she held me between her legs. “That! Do that! Don’t stop,” she begged. “Oh, God, yes. Fuck me with your tongue!”

Over and over, I licked the cleft of her sex until I felt Karen’s thighs tense, trapping my head between them as she came. Her orgasm was intense, and I had to brace myself as she twisted and bucked beneath me. Her sweet cream flowed copiously into my waiting mouth and I drank down every drop as if it, alone, could sustain me for life.

Her legs loosened their vice-like grip, and I crawled up to lie beside Karen’s body. Spent, we kissed gently, but with genuine passion.

After a few minutes of cuddling, Karen said, “I have a surprise for you.” She jumped up from the bed and opened Chelsea’s closet. I saw her delve into a laundry hamper and paw through its contents, soon emerging with a handful of dirty panties.

“My, my… what do we have here?” she cooed. Sitting back down on the bed with legs crossed, she deposited four or five pairs of Chelsea’s undies between us. I sat up so that we were facing each other, looking down at the colorful pile.

I reached for a peppermint-striped pair of panties and Karen slapped my hand away. “Oh, no. Look, but don’t touch.” She picked up a pale blue pair of cotton underpants and held them up with both hands. “She wore these yesterday. I know because she paraded around the house in them all day long. God, she is adorable in these. I’m not sure if Chelsea knew what she was doing to me, but the effect was still the same. By the end of the day, all I wanted was to kneel before my little girl, take hold of the waistband, slide them down to her ankles and… well, I’ll leave it at that.” She sighed. “I knew I had to talk to you soon, or I might do something with my daughter that I would regret.”

Karen opened the panties, peering inside, then glanced up at me with an impish smile. “You know… it looks to me as if she might have masturbated in these.”

I was trembling inside. “Can I see? Please?”

Turning Chelsea’s panties inside out, Karen held the gusset up for me to see. She was right — traces of Chelsea’s juices lingered there.

Karen brought those pretty blue panties to within an inch of my face. “Smell them,” she whispered.

I began to roll my nipples between fingers and thumbs, breathing in Chelsea’s essence. It was an earthy, yet delicate fragrance that made my heart race. I looked up into Karen’s eyes just as a small orgasm shuddered through me.

“Wow! I’ve never seen anyone come from just playing with their nipples before,” she said, grinning with delight. “That’s crazy.”

With that, I grabbed the striped pair of panties from the pile and held them right under Karen’s nose. “Smell them. You know you want to.” She hesitated, but quickly succumbed to her passion and inhaled the musky scent of her daughter.

Taking the panties from me, Karen pressed them to her face as I leaned down and took one of her nipples between my lips to suck. In a short time, she had her own orgasm.

“Oh, my God! That was wild. I can’t believe you got me off that way,” Karen said. “That was amazing.”

“Oh, I’m a woman of many talents,” I told her.

I saw her expression turn from astonished to predatory.  “Well, it’s my turn now, and I’m gonna make you fucking scream.”

Karen shoved me back and rolled me over so I was face down in the covers on Chelsea’s bed, covers that were perfumed with the smell of her. Karen positioned herself between my legs, lifting my hips up enough to leave my ass crack fully exposed to her. I felt her hands spreading my cheeks apart, then she lightly blew against my tightest hole so I could feel it inside. That was how I knew that Karen had me wide open.

Pressing my face deeper into the pillow, still bathing in the scent of Chelsea, I waited, my body taut as piano wire, for what I hoped and prayed would come next. I wasn’t disappointed — as I felt the tip of Karen’s tongue as she began to rim my asshole.

A shiver raced through me, and I raised my face from the pillow just long enough to gasp, “Fuck! Mmmm, Karen, that feels so good. Please, don’t stop.”

As her tongue probed the opening of my anus, Karen slid a hand between my legs, seeking the wetness that flowed there. She began to finger me, using her thumb to tease my clit. For the third time, I was building to a climax brought on by my beautiful, attentive lover.

But before I could come, Karen raised her face from my ass and quickly replaced her tongue with a finger. In one stroke, she pushed her finger into my rectum, right up to the third knuckle. A split second later, she shoved two fingers into my cunt. I thrust a hand down there to maul my clit while Karen fucked me in both holes.

Seconds later, I came, nearly screaming the house down. I rode the wave as far as it would take me, then went limp, slumping over onto my side.

Karen laid down next to me and, with a bad-girl grin, proffered her hand, which was glistening with wetness. We came together to lick and suck her fingers, cleaning them of my juices, then our mouths met in a delightfully messy kiss.

She finally broke away, her expression wistful. “Kim, we need to get cleaned up. Jim and Chelsea will be home soon. We’ve got just enough time to take a quick shower, make ourselves presentable and tidy up her bed.”

When Jim and Chelsea arrived half an hour later, they found us seated on the back porch, each sipping from a glass of wine. Chelsea was over the top about her evening. She and her father had dined at the top of the Space Needle, then took in a showing of Frozen 2.

We chatted for a while longer, then Karen told Chelsea to give me a goodbye hug, then get ready for bed. I took the child in my arms and held her, trying to convey every bit of the love I felt in that warm embrace.

Once I’d released her, I said my own goodbyes. Mother and daughter saw me out, and I thanked Karen for a lovely evening. They made their way back toward the front door, and Karen glanced back to give me a smoldering look that said everything about the delights we’d just shared. Chelsea turned to wave one last time before the door closed.

As I drove away I knew I’d sleep well, dreaming of an amazingly passionate woman and her beautiful daughter.

***

About fifteen minutes after Kim’s departure, Karen went to Chelsea’s room to tuck her daughter in. “I’m glad you had a great evening, little one,” she said. I can see why you like Ms. Johnson so much. We had a wonderful evening getting to know each other.”

“Oh, Mommy, I knew you’d like her. She’s the best.”

“Goodnight, darling,” Karen said, turning off the light.

“G’night, Mommy,” Chelsea replied before her mother closed the door.

Snuggling into the blankets, Chelsea thought about that nice hug Ms. Johnson had given her. She’d always loved how her teacher smelled, and being in the woman’s arms had given her the opportunity to fall into that sweet aroma, letting it surround her completely.

As the child closed her eyes, slowly drifting into slumber, it seemed as if she could still detect it somehow, the enchanting scent of the teacher that she loved so very much.

On to Chapter Three!