Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Shy Mom

“Behave, girls!” I berated my daughters. “I’m about to start this Zoom.”

They giggled under my desk as I logged onto my account. I nudged gently with my right foot to shush them.

“Good morning, Ms. Flambeau,” I said as my screen filled with the image of a woman in her early thirties. She was grasping a little girl, who was squirming in her lap. Mother and child were striking in similarity and beauty, with auburn curls cascading over their shoulders, clear sparkling eyes, and lipstick in a glossy shade that never failed to arouse me on the right mouths: pussy-pink. They were dressed in matching white terry robes.

“Good morning, Ms. Nilsen,” the woman replied. “And please—it’s Genette.” Like me, she appeared to be seated in a study, but hers looked large and luxurious. Behind her, a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf crammed with volumes stood to one side, an accent table with a vase of red roses on the other.

“A pleasure, Genette,” I responded. “I’m Beverly, or Bev.”

Genette was the single mother of my third-grade student Camille, who was nowhere in sight. Camille’s first-grade sister, Bella, whom I recognized from school, was nestled against her mother, not seeming to care that she was on video.

Seeing Genette for the first time, I had an uncanny sensation of looking into Camille’s future, one in which her soft girlish features had blossomed into the womanly curves, teased by her mother’s slightly parted robe.

She spoke. “Thanks for this parent-teacher conference, Bev. I know you must be busy with—Cami mentioned that you had, er, two girls of your own? Well, as you can see, I have my hands full too. In fact, I barely managed to cover us up in time for your call!” She tugged on the front panel of her robe for emphasis, which only had the effect of revealing more of her lush cleavage.

I felt an immediate bond with this woman, and not just as a single mother of two girls. From the get-go, Genette seemed open, unaffected, and easy-going—just my type. I also felt a twinge of desire at her casual exhibitionism.

“No worries!” I assured her, then added, “We’ve gone clothing optional, too.”

In fact, I had on a fitted silk blouse, matching blue g-string, and nothing else. Bras had been the first casualties of sheltering-in-place in our household, then pants and skirts. While I usually donned a top, such as a blouse or t-shirt, I enjoyed the freedom and sexiness of going around the house in skimpy underwear.

For their part, the girls had ditched their nightgowns and panties just before my call, and were wandering around stark naked. All I could do was shoo them out of sight—and after sharing conspiratorial whispers and giggles, they scrambled under my desk. For cover, I’d innocently assumed.

“Is Camille able to join us?” I asked. I preferred to have my students participate in these meetings, if there were no issues requiring a separate conversation with parents, especially those as delightful as this woman’s pretty nine-year-old daughter.

Genette hesitated for a second. “Um … she’s occupied at the moment.”

As I wondered what could be occupying Camille in lockdown, Genette added, “By the way, it’s only fair to warn you: Cami’s told me quite a bit about your family. We have lots in common—more than you might suspect—and I like you very much already.”

“Thanks …” I replied. “That’s very … kind of you.” I was unsure what else to say or, for that matter, how to react. I wondered what Camille could have told her mother about me or my daughters, other than typical family details that rarely interest parents as much as their kids. Was I missing some subtext in the woman’s tone, if not her words? But Genette’s warmth seemed genuine. Probably, she was simply referring to our being single moms of girls close in age.

As for what I knew about Genette, there wasn’t much. Ashley had mentioned that she was a stay-at-home mom who came from a rich family, and that Camille had gushed about how pretty her mother was. I could see why.

“If you don’t mind, Bev …” Genette paused, her breath hitching for some reason, “… could we, um, record this Zoom? I’m sure Cami would love to see it later.”

“Oh, sure.” Her request sounded reasonable enough, so I was happy to comply. However, I got the feeling again that there might be some deeper meaning I was missing.

As I hit RECORD, little fingers lightly crept up my thighs. I shivered.

“Are you cold?” Genette asked, leaning forward.

She must have caught my involuntary movement, but I instinctively glanced down at my chest, surprised to realize that my nipples were visible through the thin blouse. I wondered if she could see them on her end—and if so, what she thought about that.

“Well, you know, I’m not wearing pants,” I replied half-jokingly.

“Really?” Genette responded, seemingly more in interest than jest. “Me neither!”

We shared a good laugh. Of course, I couldn’t see below the screen, which cut off at the woman’s waist, but her revealing robe had made me wonder what lay beneath, and now her remark only stoked my curiosity all the more.

Oh, my … far from being cold, this Zoom was heating me up!

Those busy little fingers—Ashley’s? Olivia’s?—had made their way up to my g-string. They flirted with the edges of the front panel, which scarcely covered my slit. I willed myself to remain composed and, not wanting to give away the mischief below, fixed my eyes on the screen.

“If I may share a secret,” I said, lowering my voice, “Camille is my favorite student. We’re not supposed to have favorites—or at least admit to them—but she’s so bright and adorable, the prettiest girl in my class.”

“Thank you, Bev. That really means a lot.”

Impulse made me add, “And she looks quite a bit like you.”

Genette smiled warmly, which really became her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She then shifted in her seat, sighed softly, and glanced down, blowing a kiss toward the bottom of the screen. Before I could process these curious actions, Genette returned her gaze to me and, through hooded eyes, murmured, “And I’ll wager your girls are just as lovely as you.”

Could she see the blush that I felt? This whole call seemed to be getting out of hand. Was I having a parent-teacher Zoom or a socially-distanced first date?

Three things happened at that moment which interrupted whatever flirtatious thoughts and feelings were welling between us. On Genette’s end, while we had been conversing, Bella had been playing with the opening of her mother’s robe, further exposing the enticing cleavage. The child’s hand suddenly slipped inside—and Genette’s eyes widened in surprise, then delight as the child fondled her breast.

On my end, little fingers began to stroke my pussy through the g-string. About the same time, another set of fingers grazed the undersides of my feet. Oh, God … I loved having my feet played with. And by then, both my daughters were well aware of that.

“Bella, dear,” Genette whispered, eyes going from her daughter’s hand to me, “Mommy’s on video with Cami’s teacher.”

Despite her admonishing words, Genette did not look or sound concerned, nor did it affect the little girl’s enthusiastic breast-play. “But I like doing this, Mommy,” the child declared.

“Oh my …” I murmured, as much from what I saw on screen as from what I was feeling below it.

“Bella’s loved playing with my boobs, ever since I began nursing her,” Genette explained. “I haven’t had the heart to make her stop.”

“That’s perfectly natural!” I exclaimed, more to set myself at ease than Genette, who seemed to be enjoying her predicament. Before thinking, I added, “I’m sure I’d do the same thing—in Bella’s situation, I mean!”

That didn’t come out the way I had intended—or had it?

“Is that so?” Genette asked, giving me a suggestive smile. “Can I hold you to that, Bev?”

Wow. Despite the inappropriate turn this parent-teacher conference had taken, I had to admit it was very much to my liking. I certainly couldn’t muster any objection to the sight of this sexy woman having her breast groped by her first-grade daughter.

And what a breast it was! By then, Bella’s playing had exposed it almost completely, leaving only her little hand to deny me a full view but stoke my imagination. Pale and luscious, Genette’s boob was several inches and cup sizes larger than mine. Moreover, from the evidence of her daughter’s squeezing, it was lusciously resilient.

I found Genette’s flirtation flattering and arousing, but didn’t want to misread what might simply be a charming way of defusing an awkward situation. So I replied, trying to sound playful, “Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of Bella’s fun!”

Genette saw right through me. With a smile, she remarked, “I have two boobs, you know.” Holding my gaze, she pulled the panel of her robe aside, revealing her other breast up to—but not including—the nipple. “See?”

There was no mistaking Genette’s meaning now. Or, for that matter, the intentions of my girls down below. The fingers that had been stroking my lips now pressed into the cleft, taking the flimsy g-string with it. Those other fingers kept teasing my feet, forcing me into jagged breaths to keep from moaning out loud.

Genette took my halting breathing for encouragement. With a wink, she flicked her robe aside to expose an erect nipple. It was perfect—in size, larger and longer than mine, like a pacifier; in color, reddish brown like her hair; in presentation, wreathed by an expansive, bumpy areola. If this was how her delectable nipple appeared through the screen, how must it look in person? Or feel in one’s mouth?

I licked my lips without realizing it.

“Why, thank you!” Genette laughed. “Mouthwatering, huh? That’s high praise coming from someone with tits as lovely as yours.”

Glancing down, I saw that my nipples were now practically straining through my silk blouse. I hadn’t realized they’d gotten so visibly aroused. “Oh my. I—”

“No need to explain, honey,” interrupted Genette. “We both have girl parts and know how they work.” Then she licked her own lips, rather deliberately. “It looks like our nipples are functioning very well at the moment.”

“Um, yes,” I stammered. I—I suppose they are!”

There was no hiding the obvious now, and my will to do so had vanished. After sliding into lesbian incest with my daughters, I’d wondered whether other mothers ever got sexually involved with their girls. It felt liberating to see Genette unabashedly enjoying her daughter’s touch.

But, I suddenly recalled, this session was being recorded! “Genette, the video. Shouldn’t I stop it?”

The woman looked up, as if to consider the idea, then replied, “But then … Camille wouldn’t get to watch our parent-teacher conference afterwards, would she?” She squirmed a bit in her seat, her eyes briefly closing.

“I guess …” I replied, wondering once more what was occupying Camille. Why wouldn’t she want to be here for this?

Well, if this woman was willing to let me see—and record—her first-grade daughter feeling her up, then surely she would keep our video entre nous. Besides, I had to admit, I really wanted a copy of this. The thought of watching it later with Ashley and Olivia only added to my arousal, helped along by what my girls were doing under the desk.

Genette whispered something to Bella, and the little girl smiled mischievously. She took hold of her mommy’s nipple, pulled out as far as she could, then released it. She repeated the act, giggling with delight. This was obviously not the first time the child had played this game. After she did it a third time, I needed no further evidence that Genette’s bouncy boob—about 36D, near as I could tell—was all natural.

Inflamed, I decided to join in the fun. I sucked my fingers, then reached down to swirl them around my protruding nipples. The moisture seeped through my silk blouse, making it even more transparent. All the while, I gazed at the livestream of the licentious madonna and child before me.

Following my moves, Genette rolled her free nipple between two fingers.

Though I am very sexual in private, and enjoy exhibiting my body in public, especially to women, I felt surprised at how far I was willing to go with this woman I had just met. Perhaps it was her beauty, or the tantalizing window I’d just been given into her mother-daughter relationship, or the teasing I was getting below. Likely, it was all of the above, plus the sheer lewdness of turning a parent-teacher conference into an erotic encounter. Whatever the reason, I felt an urge to orgasm in full view of this openly sexual woman and her little girl.

“You know,” Genette confided, “Bella has titties, too.”

My God. Was she really going there? And how old was Bella, anyhow? Seven at most. I felt powerfully tempted to encourage Genette to play out her thought, but also wary of seeming too interested in the child. Offering a response that could go either way, I said, “I’ll bet.”

Genette clearly knew which way she wanted to go. Turning to Bella, she asked in a playful, motherly voice, “Want to show your titties to Ms. Nilsen? Your sexy itty bitty girl titties?”

Bella faced me and asked in a completely innocent voice, like she had a favorite toy to show, “Would you like to see them, Ms. Nilsen? Wanna see my itty bitty girl titties?”

The little minx had me. In for a penny, in for a pound, I decided. “I would very much like to see them, Bella.” My response sounded more throaty than I expected.

Bella fixed her gaze on me, lips puckered in an adorable pout. Her mother unhurriedly drew the front of her robe, unveiling the girl’s pale flesh, flawless and flat before rising in gentle slopes of baby fat that were capped at the tips by perfect pink nipples. Bella’s “titties” looked as delectable as any I’d seen. And knowing that they might one day grow to resemble the luscious globes her mother was so openly flaunting … well, it only made the child all the more desirable.

Observing how the sight of her daughter’s nudity riveted me, Genette asked in a husky voice, “Aren’t her nipples adorable? What would you like to see me do with them, Bev?”

I felt like a kid gaping through the window of a candy store at the treats inside. “I … I’d like you to circle them with your fingers … like this …”

Unbuttoning my blouse, I exposed my own nipples, now stiff to the point of aching. I licked two fingers and swirled them around my areolas. Gratified to see mother and daughter gazing at me with matched expressions of desire, I stared back at the half-naked pair, slowly tracing my upper lip with my tongue.

Beneath the desk, little fingers were pushing the panel of my g-string as far as it could go into my vagina, causing the rear string to tighten just above my ass. Meanwhile, a wet little mouth started sucking my toes.

Oh, my stars, that feels wonderful. I closed my eyes to savor how divine it was, being loved this way by my children. When I opened them, Genette’s fingers were circling Bella’s tiny nubs, coating them in saliva.

Bella looked up at her. “I love that, Mommy.” In reply, Genette claimed her daughter’s mouth in a French kiss.

Desperately needing to be fucked, I started thrusting against the hand that was fingering me through the g-string, not caring anymore if Genette or Bella could see my humping motions and realize what they were. Actually, all the better if they did.

Genette and Bella broke their kiss to watch. As my daughter finger-fucked me, I squeezed my boobs and pinched my nipples. Genette’s hand slid down her first-grader’s body, over her tummy and lower. Looking into Bella’s eyes, I registered the exact moment that Mommy touched between her legs.

These erotic sights and sensations were too much for me. The waves of pleasure rose quickly, and I let them carry me away. “Genette!” I cried.

“Bev, wait!” Genette gasped back, thrusting a hand below the screen. “Oh … oh, Cami!” she cried. “God, yes, suck my clit!” She writhed in her chair, just like I was—and now I knew why!

I held on as long as I could, my arousal cresting at the implications of what I saw and heard. Then, just as Genette started shrieking, those massing waves crashed over me.

“Fuck, Bev, FUCK!”

I climaxed right along with this gorgeous mother, screaming her name as she orgasmed to mine.

“Fuck …” I gasped as I recovered. “Was … was Camille down there the whole time?” I nodded toward the bottom of the screen.

Genette grinned wickedly. “Come up, dear,” she cooed, pulling up a naked, flat-chested little beauty with auburn hair that was tangled and matted in sweat.

Camille smiled sheepishly at me, then formed the shape of a heart with her girlish hands. I smiled back and made a larger heart with mine, framing a breast for her.

“And you?” Genette asked, nodding at the bottom of the screen as well.

“Like mother, like mother!” I laughed, and pulled up … Ashley! I should have guessed, given her experience pleasuring me the other morning. Her little sister Olivia popped up right after. Bare as nymphs, the girls clung to me affectionately and waved at the screen.

Camille blew a kiss, and Ashley blew one back. Both their mouths glistened with wetness.

Hmm. Were those two in cahoots? Had they set up this encounter? Ashley was one grade higher, but I’d seen them play together often enough at recess.

Genette grinned like the Cheshire Cat. “When I told you we had lots in common, Bev, my source was this little birdie who heard from that little birdie”—she pointed at Ashley—“about all the wicked things you’ve been doing with your lovely little girls.”

My eyes widened in shock, and I shot a glance at Ashley. Had they been texting? Sexting? “Young lady—” I began.

“Don’t be angry!” Genette interrupted, coming to Ashley’s rescue. “You haven’t done anything we haven’t tried—many times and more.”

For emphasis, Genette reached behind Camille and snaked a hand between the girl’s inner thighs. It emerged to cup the child’s bare vulva, the index finger teasing her little hood. In response, the nine-year-old shivered deliciously, licking her lips with a naughty smile. This was not the sweet innocent Camille that I knew from class!

“Welcome to my world, Bev,” said Genette, giving me a bewitching just-between-us wink.

“How long …” I wondered aloud.

“Since kindergarten … right, Mommy?” answered Camille.

“That’s right, sweetheart” Genette confirmed. “You looked so scrumptious in your little Catholic school-girl uniform, I just had to lick you!”

“Then I licked you, remember?”

I could hardly believe my ears. Despite all that I’d done with my own daughters, I could feel myself blushing.

“How could I forget?” Genette laughed, obviously enjoying the effect their incestuous banter was having on me. “You’re a natural, darling—the best pussy eater ever. As Bev’s now my witness, I’m quite the addict for that hot little mouth of yours …”

“What about me, Mommy?” Bella jumped in.

“You, dear, are the best tit sucker my boobs have had the pleasure to know.”

Both Flambeau girls looked pleased as pie. What a sex coven! I was floored—but also intrigued.

Genette glanced at me, her smile deepening. “Hmmm … looks like Ms. Nilsen might like to have a play date with you girls …”

I blushed more deeply, but couldn’t deny the unbidden thought of having Camille between my legs, and Bella at my breasts, especially after hearing their mother extolling their sexual virtues.

Then I imagined having Ashley and Olivia join them … and the very thought made me light-headed.

“I have a feeling,” Genette reflected, taking in the incestuous family portrait before her, “that this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

On to Chapter Six!