Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by BlueJean

Miss Laine came round to help us with the second honey harvest. That meant I had to be brave and show her I wasn’t afraid of the bees.

It was only the third time I’d worn my beekeeper’s suit, having been stung the previous two times and deciding my beekeeping days were over. But I didn’t want to be left out.

My teacher had two hives of her own, so she knew how to harvest honey, and as she and Mum carefully extracted the bars of honeycomb, me and Millie took them and gently brushed the bees off, putting them in a wheelbarrow and covering them over.

I tried my best to look like I knew what I was doing, but when Mum handed me another bar I accidentally dropped it, and that made the bees angry. Some of the stripey little gits swarmed around me and I tried to swat them away.

“Freya, stop flapping your hands around, you’ll just agitate them even more,” Mum told me as she picked up her smoker, puffing it around me to calm the bees down. “The worst thing you can do is panic. Just stand still until they calm down.”

“I know,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Miss Laine put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re doing great,” she said, and for some reason that made me feel even worse.

Millie unzipped her protective hood and pulled it off. “That’s better,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“Millie, put your veil back on,” Mum told my sister.

“I don’t want to,” Millie replied, holding her hands out for another bar of honeycomb. “It’s too hot and I can’t see properly.”

“The bees will sting you. Put it back on, please,” Mum insisted.

Miss Laine frowned. “Um… do we have a situation here?”

“They won’t sting me, Mummy, they think I’m one of them. It’s like… uh… it’s like… when you’re the first thing a baby animal sees and it thinks you’re its mummy. Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

“Do you mean imprinting?” Miss Laine asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I don’t think bees do imprinting, Pixie,” Mum told my sister, reluctantly handing her another bar. “If too many bees swarm around you, put your hood back on, okay?”

“Okay,” Millie said, brushing the bees off the honeycomb.

“I’m very impressed, Millie Newton,” Miss Laine told my sister. “You’re definitely a child of nature.”

“Honey’s good for sore throats and coughs!” I blurted out, trying to impress my teacher, but everyone gave me a funny look.

And then a bee stung me. On the bum, of all places.

So yeah, that was nice.

At least I didn’t cry, though. What’s the point of a protective suit if it doesn’t even protect you?

The sting was really painful, so Mum and Miss Laine took me up to the bathroom while Millie went to check on Nigel. The little canary had been practising his flying in short bursts before returning to his cage on our bedroom windowsill. One day we hoped he would fly the nest for good and live in the wild, although I didn’t think there were many wild canaries in England.

I stood in the bathroom in my panties and t-shirt while Mum perched on the edge of the bath with a pair of tweezers. Miss Laine was kneeling next to me with a little dish of fresh honey to dab on the stung area.

“I need to pull your panties down a bit, okay?” Mum said to me.

I glanced at Miss Laine and went a bit red-faced. “Um, okay, I guess.”

“You don’t need to be shy, Freya Newton. I’ve seen bottoms before, you know,” Miss Laine said with a smile, then gave me a playful nudge with her elbow.

“I’m not shy,” I protested, and pulled my knickers down around my knees, shrugging at my teacher like it was no big deal.

Mum and Miss Laine gave each other a funny look, then Mum pulled the bee stinger out of my bum with the tweezers. She wetted a flannel and put some antibacterial soap on it. “I’m just going to clean the infected bit,” she said but then stopped. “Would you like me to do it? Or… would you prefer Sadie to?”

I turned to look down at Miss Laine, who raised an eyebrow at me. “Um… well… I wouldn’t mind if Sadie cleaned it,” I said, giving her a bashful smile.

“Okay, then,” Mum said and handed Miss Laine the flannel.

My teacher gently cleaned the sore lump on my bum while her free hand rested on my other cheek. Round and round she went with the soapy flannel. I felt a little bit embarrassed but also kind of excited to have my teacher touch me in such a private place.

“Well, someone has a very pretty bottom,” Miss Laine said in a playful tone.

“She takes after her mother,” Mum told her.

Miss Laine patted me with a dry towel, but her other hand was gently stroking my bum. “So pretty,” she said in a faraway voice. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw my teacher and my mum kind of staring at each other.

“Do you remember what I used to do when you came home with cuts and scrapes, Freya?” Mum said.

I did remember, although she hadn’t done it since I was little. I smiled at the memory. “You used to kiss them,” I said and did my best not to giggle like a little girl.

“Would you like Mummy and Sadie to kiss it better, then? Or are you too old for that now?” Mum asked me.

“You can if you want, I don’t mind,” I replied. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, the thought of it made me feel quite naughty.

Leaning forward, Mum kissed my bum where the bee had stung me. “All better?” she asked me.

I shook my head.

“Maybe Sadie should try then.”

I felt Miss Laine’s lips brush my bum. “Better now?” she said.

Covering my mouth to hide a grin, I shook my head again.

“Poor thing,” Miss Laine murmured. “Perhaps we should kiss it together.”

“It’s worth a try,” Mum agreed.

They kissed a bum cheek each, their lips lingering this time.

“I don’t even have a sting on that side,” I told Miss Laine, looking back over my shoulder.

Miss Laine looked up at me and smiled, then went back to kissing my bottom with Mum, and as I stood there gazing up at the ceiling with a dreamy smile, I could feel my kitty getting warm and tingly.

Then they did something I wasn’t expecting. I felt Mum and Miss Laine move away from my bottom, and when I looked back they were kissing each other instead. Right on the mouth, with tongues and everything!

I gasped in shock, and they broke apart – smiling at each other, then at me. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “You two just kissed!” I was still recovering from the shock of my mum letting me watch her touch herself – Now she’s snogging my teacher? How outrageous!

They both laughed and Miss Laine put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, it’s a secret!” she whispered. “Now hold still while I put some honey on your sting.”

“Honey’s good for bee stings too, huh?” I said.

“It is,” Miss Laine told me as she smeared a little bit of honey over where I’d been stung. “Quite often in nature, the cause and the cure come from the same place.”

My teacher sucked the remaining honey from her finger and made a silly face at me, puffing out her cheeks to make me laugh.

“You can pull your panties up now,” Mum said and I tried not to show my disappointment. The embarrassment I’d felt at Miss Laine seeing my bare bum was mostly gone, and I was in the mood for doing more sexy things.

I slowly pulled my knickers up, being careful not to wipe the honey off.

Millie was standing in the bathroom doorway, her mouth hanging open. “You showed Miss Laine your bare bottom!” she said, astounded.

“So?” I said with a shrug.

“Good job, honey bum!” Miss Laine said, tickling me.

“Speaking of honey, would you both take a jar over to Mr. Dalliard?” Mum asked me and my sister. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

OMG, it was sooo obvious why Mum wanted to send us on an errand! I bet she wanted to kiss Miss Laine some more and probably do even ruder stuff, too! I wondered if they were actually going out with each other now.

I wished I could have stayed and watched them, but Mum shooed me away. I gave her a little smirk and went to put some shorts on while Millie put a lead on Bee, and then we headed out to Mr. Dalliard’s.

***

We watched the girls out of my bedroom window as they wandered down the garden path with Bee.

Sadie turned to me. “Are we making honey?”

“Yes… but not that kind of honey,” I told her.

She gave me a knowing smile. “What kind, then?”

I pushed a hand inside my trousers and hooked a finger into my pussy. I was dripping wet down there. The naughty game we had played with Freya in the bathroom was still fresh in my mind, my perverted imagination filled with possibilities.

Withdrawing my finger, I reached out to smear my liquid arousal over my best friend’s luscious lips. “That kind,” I told her, my voice husky with lust.

Sadie licked her lips and smiled impishly at me. “Such a dirty lady…”

I gestured to a pile of boxes on my bed. “I treated myself to some gifts.”

“Aww, I thought they were for me,” Sadie pouted as we made ourselves comfy on the bed.

I opened a box and pulled out some black sheer stockings with a lace trim. Another box contained lacy panties: black, crimson, teal. More boxes and bags revealed vintage brassieres, a scarlet and black baby doll negligee and more stockings.

“Goodness, you have been busy,” Sadie said, running her hands over the negligee.

We had money put away in the bank; Tony’s career as a successful city trader had seen to that. And although it seemed too easy, too convenient to rely on those funds, I was grateful for the security they represented. Selling honey wasn’t going to make me rich, that was for sure. So yes, sometimes I felt like spoiling myself.

“Shall we try some on?” I asked my friend.

Sadie began to undo the buttons on her jeans.

I took my trousers off and pulled a pair of black stockings up my legs. I’d worn nylons like this most days as a barrister in the city, but beekeepers didn’t have much use for such indulgence. They felt good against my skin. Tugging my plain knickers off, I slipped on a new pair that matched the stockings. I felt silly wearing a t-shirt with my sexy ensemble, so I pulled that off too, allowing my breasts to spill out.

Sadie wriggled into a pair of crimson stockings and some red and black panties. Like me, she took off her shirt and went bare-chested. “Ooohh, these knickers are nicer than mine. I might steal them,” she said to me.

“Panty thief!” I retorted, and we giggled like a couple of schoolgirls.

“Did you give Freya my panties?” Sadie asked me.

“Not yet. Tonight, maybe.”

“Do you have any new stories to tell me about her?”

“No, but I think I might tomorrow,” I told her with a naughty grin and ran my fingers over the lacy material of my new panties.

“What are you planning to do?” Sadie asked me as she kneaded her pert breasts.

“Let’s see… I might ask Freya to come to my room again.”

“And then what?”

I slid a hand down my knickers and ran two fingers through my wet folds. “How about I give her your dirty panties and watch her as she smells them?”

Sadie caressed herself through my panties, pinching her nipple with the other hand. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Don’t you make a mess of my new undies, naughty girl,” I scolded her, playfully.

“Tell me what else you’re going to do with Freya tonight,” Sadie asked me, her eyes wild with lust.

“I don’t know, but it’s going to be dirty, Sadie. Really dirty,” I said as I fingered myself.

“Let me watch,” Sadie moaned.

I smiled at her and shook my head.

“Please,” she begged.

“Not tonight, but soon. Now take those nice new panties off and come sit on my face,” I told her.

Quickly shucking my panties, she straddled my head, lowering her steamy cunt down to my waiting mouth. I feasted on her, my tongue savouring the sour, metallic taste, hungry for more.

Sadie moaned, humping against my mouth, her hands full of my hair. “I loved kissing Freya’s cute little bottom, Georgia,” she whimpered as I tongue-fucked her. “She smelled so good. Could you smell her, too?”

I couldn’t answer. Her gorgeous cunt was pressed tightly against my mouth, which was exactly where I wanted it. I assaulted her with my tongue until she came loudly, her musky syrup glazing my lips.

Bending forward, Sadie put her face between my legs, pulling the gusset of my damp knickers to one side to get at my cunt. We ate each other out in a frenzy until we came together, Sadie for the second time.

She made me feel so dirty. And I was enjoying being dirty lately. More so than I had in a very long time. I hadn’t realised how pent up my sexual desires had become, living out in the country with the girls, never dating, always afraid of betraying my late husband’s memory. It was all bound to spill over sooner or later. So there I was with my tongue in my best friend’s cunt, and fully intending to do something equally as naughty to my ten-year-old daughter.

So this is how it chooses to manifest itself. So be it, then.

***

As me and Millie followed the narrow country roads to Mr. Dalliard’s house, I tried my best to think of a way to talk to my sister about what had happened at the Menhir Stone, but for some reason I was scared to. What we had seen just didn’t seem possible and I wasn’t completely sure that it had happened at all. I’d tried to tell Mum and Miss Laine but they thought I was joking. And why wouldn’t they? It sounded like one of the pretend games me and Millie liked to play, except this one was real. I thought it was real, anyway.

Was I going mad? Whatever was happening to Millie, was it happening to me too? I needed to know.

I took a big breath and spoke. “Millie?”

“Yup?”

“As… as your big sister, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour.”

Yeah, that sounded good. Just like Mum would say it.

So of course, Millie laughed and began imitating me. “Oh, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour! Look at me, I’m so posh! Come here and polish my shoes!” she said to me in a stupid high-pitched voice, prancing up the road.

“Shut up!” I shouted at her, trying not to lose my temper. One of us had to be mature. “Look, this is serious. What happened to us when you touched the Menhir Stone?”

Millie stopped messing around and looked at me, frowning slightly. “I dunno. It just sucked me in.”

“How?”

She just shrugged.

“Did we really see a Dryad?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I told you she was real. You saw her, didn’t you? And the other Dryads, too?”

“I don’t know what I saw. I thought maybe it was a dream or something.”

“It definitely wasn’t a dream.”

“But why was she at the Menhir Stone? I thought she lived in the big tree.”

“She does, but it doesn’t mean she can’t go to other places, too. That would be like you and me not being able to leave our house, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose. Does she talk to you?”

“I… I’m not sure. It’s all confusing, like there’s two of them, and they’re fighting over me,” my sister said, looking upset.

That really spooked me. “Two of them?”

“I think something else lives in the tree. Something not nice.”

“Like a bad Dryad?”

“I dunno.”

“Why can’t I hear them?”

Millie stamped her foot. “I don’t know, Freya! I’m not a – a tree nymph expert, am I?”

I studied my sister carefully. I didn’t think she was fibbing. She usually made a face like a startled monkey when she told lies. But… weird spirits hiding in trees and rocks? I just didn’t know what to think.

“We should ask Mr. Dalliard. He told us to visit the tree in the first place. I’m quite cross with him, actually!” I announced, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Mr. Dalliard had lived in the same old farmhouse his whole life. It once belonged to his parents and there used to be a farm attached to it, but over the years bits and pieces of land had been sold off here and there until just the house remained. It was filled with old, well looked after furniture and loads of strange objects and antiques from Mr. Dalliard’s many travels: A Zulu fighting stick from Africa, a Samurai sword from Japan, a German Kaiser helmet from World War One, an old diver’s suit with a helmet that looked amazingly heavy, a gigantic ammonite fossil that was at least a metre wide, and loads of other cool stuff.

We sat in Mr. Dalliard’s living room while he made us tea, and I warily eyed the big grandfather clock in the corner. The last time I was here, it had struck 12 PM and had scared the stuffing out of me with its loud chiming. It was like having Big Ben in your lounge.

Bee wandered round the living room sniffing everything in sight. I hoped she didn’t decide to do a wee on Mr. Dalliard’s carpet.

Mr. Dalliard came in with two tin mugs full of tea and a plate of biscuits on a tray, which he put down on a small table. “Tea’s up, nippers,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” me and my sister said together.

“Tha’s navy tea. Put ‘airs on yer chest, it will.”

“I don’t want hairs on my chest!” Millie squealed.

Mr. Dalliard slapped his knee in amusement and wheezed out a raspy laugh. “Thanks for the ‘oney. From the last ‘arvest, is it?”

“No, it’s a jar from the first harvest,” I said to him. “We haven’t extracted the second lot yet.”

Millie took a swig of her tea and put the mug down on the table. Mr. Dalliard picked it up and put it back down on one of the coasters he had laid out for us. “Don’t be putting it on my nice table, ya pest! Took me bloomin’ ages to polish that up with yer mum’s beeswax, that did.”

“Sorry,” Millie said.

I sat up straight and cleared my throat. “Mr. Dalliard?”

Mr. Dalliard sat down in his armchair with his own mug of tea. “Aye?”

“Millie… well, Millie’s been doing some weird stuff ever since we went to the big oak tree and… and it’s probably your fault, cause you told us to visit it in the first place. There. I said it.”

Mr. Dalliard dipped a custard cream into his mug of tea and stuck it in his mouth. Bee gazed up at him with her ears pricked up, in hope he might share the next biscuit. After he’d chewed and swallowed it, he finally spoke. “What sort o’ weird stuff’s that, then?”

“She hears voices, don’t you, Millie?” I said to my sister.

Munching on a chocolate digestive, Millie nodded. “One wants me to come live in the tree and the other one shows me how to make friends with animals.”

“And Millie touches stuff and goes all spaced out, like this,” I explained, then made a face like a zombie.

“I don’t look like that!” Millie laughed, giving me a slap on the arm.

“You do! She does, Mr. Dalliard. We found an old fireplace in the forest and Millie touched it and she did that face, then she started going on about a lady who makes medicine or something.”

“I think one of them used to live there,” Millie added.

“And then the other day – and you probably won’t believe me but I’ll tell you anyway – Millie touched the Menhir Stone near Miss Laine’s house and we both zoomed back in time and there were Neanderthals and Dryads. Like, actual real Dryads!” I finished, catching my breath.

“Yeah, I had to hold on to the big stone because Freya was licking—”

I interrupted Millie with a look, shaking my head. “No, Mr. Dalliard doesn’t need to know about that bit.”

Mr. Dalliard sat there holding a biscuit up to his open mouth as he listened to our story. When we had finished, he closed his mouth and put the biscuit back on his plate. “Well,” he said. “Well, I never. Tha’s quite the story.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, then slipped them back on again. “Bloomin’ ‘ell. I’s a right idiot,” he said in a quiet voice.

“What do you mean?” I said.

Mr. Dalliard sighed. “I knows there’s summit in that old tree, I’s known it for a long time. Got myself in a spot o’ bother there when I were a nipper. But the thing is, young’uns, most folk in this world is dull as dishwater, and dull folk don’t know about the magic that hides in the trees and the oceans and the old stones. Ignorance is like a wall that protects ya, see?”

Mr. Dalliard leant forward in his chair and spoke to Millie. “But you, Millie, you’s as sharp as a button. You sees things others don’t. And it’s both a blessin’ and a curse, right? You sees all the magic and all the strange things that this world hides, but the strange things, they sees you as well. And mayhap, some of ’em might not be so good.”

“What do we do, then?” I asked. “Should we tell Mum?”

Mr. Dalliard picked up his mug of tea, but his hand started to shake uncontrollably. He grabbed his wrist with the other hand, and I quickly took the mug from him, setting it back down on the table.

“Are you okay, Mr. Dalliard?” I asked him as Millie gently rubbed his shoulder. He’d gone white as a sheet.

“The world’s caught up to me, nipper,” he told me, rubbing his hand. “That bit of extra time the Lady gave to me, it’s startin’ to run dry, it is. Can’t say I’s sorry, though. Terrible thing to see your loved ones die. First me darlin’ wife, then me own son.” He gazed sorrowfully at the grandfather clock. “Imagine seeing yer own boy grow old and die… terrible…”

We sat there silent for a moment, the sound of the old clock tick-tocking away in the corner.

Then Mr. Dalliard seemed to notice us again and slapped his knee. “Listen to me, goin’ on like an old codger! You best be gettin’ ‘ome, littluns. I expect yer mum’ll have supper ready soon, won’t she?”

Millie took two biscuits for the journey home as I snapped the lead on Bee.

As my sister skipped across Mr. Dalliard’s yard, I turned to him. “What should we do about Millie?”

Looking down at me, Mr. Dalliard put a hand on my shoulder. “I dunno if yer mum’ll listen to ya, but young Sadie will. She might just know summit about that old fireplace in the woods, too. She knows all kinds of things, that girl does.” He gave me a wink.

“I suppose that’s why she’s a teacher,” I said.

“Aye. And Freya?”

That might have been the first time Mr. Dalliard had called me by my name.”Yes?”

“Look after yer sister, alright?”

“I will,” I replied.

On the way home I gave Millie a bit of a telling off for nearly spilling the beans to Mr. Dalliard about the naughty games we’d been playing, and reminded her that those kinds of things definitely needed to be kept secret.

Little sisters are such a pain sometimes.

***

I looked at the clock on my bedside table – 10:27 PM.

Would she be here soon? I felt like a schoolgirl waiting for her first love. It felt new and exciting. It was ridiculous, but I was going to run with it anyway.

“Would you like to visit me in my room again tonight?” I’d whispered to her earlier in the evening across the kitchen table while Millie poured herself a glass of juice from the fridge.

“Yes, please,” she’d whispered back, sporting a cheeky grin.

I lay on my bed, new black stockings and lacy panties tattooed against my skin, and a negligee, wispy and gossamer-light against my body, its see-through material teasing the promise of my bare breasts. I’d considered slipping into my high heels, but despite what the porn movies tell you, shoes are just not very practical in bed.

My bedroom door slowly creaked open, and a little head appeared.

I poked my tongue out at my older daughter and she poked hers back at me. I gestured for her to enter with a seductive finger and she crept into the room, closing the door behind her. Leaning back against it, she sighed, then gave me a sweet smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I told her. “I thought you’d got lost on the way.”

“Your room is right next door to ours, silly,” Freya cooed.

“Come here, you,” I said to her and she padded across the room to stand at the foot of my bed.

“How come you’re dressed like that?” she asked, looking me up and down.

I caressed both legs through my new sheer stockings. “It feels naughty to wear sexy things like this. Don’t you like them?”

“Yeah, I definitely do. It’s just, I never saw you wear anything like that before.”

Freya began climbing onto the bed but I raised a hand to stop her. “Wait.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“I didn’t say you could sit on my bed, did I?” I said, teasing her.

“Aww, don’t be mean!” Freya whined.

“Stay there for the moment. First, I want to see you take your pyjamas off.”

Freya tutted and rolled her eyes at me. She pulled her pyjama bottoms down and stepped out of them, then unbuttoned her top, letting it fall to the floor. She stood at the bottom of my bed in her baby blue panties, and a surge of warmth rippled through my loins.

“Now put a hand down your knickers and play with yourself while I take this negligee off, okay?” I instructed her.

“Okay,” Freya replied, her hand disappearing down into her undies.

“That’s a good girl. It makes Mummy so hot when you do that.” I sat up and pulled my negligee up and over my head, then lay back against the pillows and squeezed my full breasts, rolling the nipples between my fingers until they were rock hard.

“Can you take your knickers off, please?” Freya asked, a hand toiling away between her legs.

“Oh, you want to see Mummy’s pussy?” I teased.

She nodded eagerly, her knuckles sliding up and down through the thin material of her panties.

Standing up on the bed, I slowly walked to the edge where my daughter was waiting. Her eyes went wide as I drew closer. “I think you should take them off,” I told her. “Seeing as you want to see what’s underneath so badly.”

Freya withdrew her hand from her knickers and reached for the waistband of mine. The telltale signs of arousal glistened on her fingers.

“Nice and slowly,” I said as she began to slide my knickers down. I stopped her as they reached my knees. “Would you like to give them a little sniff before you take them all the way off?”

She nodded bashfully and I gently took her face in both hands, pulling her towards me.

“That’s it, smell Mummy’s panties, baby,” I growled while my daughter breathed in the scent of the damp knickers stretched around my knees.

Making Freya smell my cunt should have been one perversion too many. I never would’ve considered doing anything this lewd with my husband. But where my little girl was concerned, it seemed my inhibitions were few and far between. She liked my smell. And I liked that she liked it.

“Is it nice?” I asked her.

Freya looked up at me and nodded, her eyes heavy with lust. My musky scent was clearly working its primaeval magic, sending signals to her developing mind and body. I stroked her hair, marvelling at the potency of the erotic sight before me.

But my throbbing cunt needed some attention, so I gently pushed her away. “Take them all the way off now,” I said, and she slid my panties down to my ankles, so I could easily step out of them.

Now nude but for my stockings, I stood over Freya and moved my feet apart, then spread my labia open, pushing hips out towards her. “Is this what you were hoping to see, little girl?” I hissed.

Freya stared at my cunt, no more than a foot away from her face, wearing a slightly intimidated expression. I’d never felt so dirty; so perverted. Never before had my sexuality manifested itself in such an aggressive manner. I tried to restrain myself, not wanting to take things too far and scare my daughter.

“Do you like it when I open myself for you like this?” I asked her. She nodded. “Yeah? Can you smell it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Freya said.

I sauntered back down the other end of the bed, glancing over my shoulder at Freya, giving her a seductive look and a great view of my bum before sitting down with my back against the headboard, legs spread wide open. “Take your panties off and come join me,” I told her.

Freya eagerly whipped her knickers off and climbed onto the bed, opposite me. She pulled her legs as far apart as she could, imitating my spread-eagled pose.

“Let’s finger our pussies for each other, baby,” I growled, and was immediately rewarded with the sight of Freya sliding a finger in and out of her bald cunt.

I shoved two fingers inside myself and frigged myself lewdly for my little girl’s benefit. “Oh, yes. That looks so sexy, Freya. Fuck your little pussy for me.”

“This is so amazing, doing this with you, Mum,” Freya told me. “I’ll bet none of the other girls at school get to touch themselves with their mums.”

“I’ll bet they don’t. And that’s why it has to be our special secret. I’d get into lots of trouble if anyone ever found out,” I told her as I worked my cunt up into a messy, musky lather.

“I won’t tell. I don’t ever want us to stop doing this,” Freya moaned.

Taking my dripping fingers out of my cunt, I smeared them over my stockings, leaving shiny trails over the fine silk. “See how wet I am, baby?”

“Wow, your stuff is so creamy… and there’s so much of it,” Freya marvelled as she played with herself.

“Mummy can get really messy when she’s excited,” I told her, planting my fingers back inside myself, roughly thrusting them in and out to generate more pussy juice. “Let’s see how sticky we can make these pretty new stockings.”

I wanted her to see how nasty I could be, to show her how daring I was, maybe even shock her a little bit. I coated my fingers in the milky secretions, then wiped them all over my stockings, leaving them glistening with juices.

“You’re so rude, Mum!” Freya told me, amazed at my perverse behaviour.

My eyes locked with hers, I slowly pulled my stockings down, first one and then the other, making a show of it. Still holding the second one, I climbed over my masturbating daughter. I stretched the sheer material out and brought it close, sliding it back and forth under her nose. “Look what you made me do on my nice new stockings, baby girl.”

Freya closed her eyes and frantically rubbed her clit until a collision of senses overwhelmed her and she exploded into orgasm underneath me. “Oh, Mum!” she squealed, her whole body stiffening; convulsing.

“That’s it, baby, come for Mummy. Good girl,” I soothed, running my fingers through her hair.

She finally lay there gazing up at me, her chest rising; falling as her climax subsided. “Oh, wow,” she panted, “orgasms are the – the best thing ever!”

“Let’s lie down together,” I suggested, and we stretched out side by side facing one another. My hand found her hip and the curve of her smooth bottom, fingertips caressing gently. “Can I have a kiss?” I asked her.

“Sure,” she replied and kissed me sweetly on the lips.

“That was nice,” I told her. And it was. But I knew it could be even nicer. “Now, how about one with tongues?”

Freya opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. “Like… a girlfriend kiss?”

“Yeah, it’ll be our little secret,” I whispered, holding a finger to my lips.

Freya smiled shyly and kissed me again, but this time our tongues met and mingled. She tasted sweet in my mouth, and as we both pulled away, I saw the laughter in her eyes – that we would deign to do something so wonderfully daring, so outrageous.

Her gaze settled on my breasts, and without much thought, I took one of her hands in mine. “It’s okay to touch them if you want,” I told her and placed it upon my tit.

Watching one another masturbate seemed to have advanced into touching and kissing. The line had been crossed. I’d told Sadie how I planned to do dirty things with my daughter, and perhaps that was merely my desire driving me in the heat of the moment. But now, just as I had accepted the developing sexual relationship with my best friend, so too was I willing to follow this incestuous accord with my little girl wherever it chose to take us.

Freya tentatively explored my breasts, her palm sliding over the erect nipples.

“You can squeeze them a bit harder if you like, they won’t break,” I assured her with a chuckle.

She kneaded and massaged my tits, the tip of her tongue poking out in adorable concentration. “It’s like making bread,” she muttered, perhaps more to herself than to me.

“Is it okay if I touch you, too?” I asked her. She nodded at me halfheartedly, barely listening to my words.

I ran a hand over her flat chest, over her tiny bee-sting titties, her skin wondrously soft against my fingers.

Freya looked up at me. “Mum?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can we maybe, um… touch each other’s pussies, please?”

I was too far past the point of no return to refuse. Of course we were going to touch each other there. How could we not? “Sure, baby. Let’s be naughty girls and finger each other.”

I reached between my daughter’s legs and traced her puffy lips with the tip of a finger, gliding through her moist, hairless slit.

In turn, she explored my fleshy, more mature cunt – her eager fingers here, there and everywhere, collecting creamy juices as they went about their business.

“Is this okay?” I asked her. I knew I wanted this, but I needed to make sure she did too, that she was happy with this new development in our relationship.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to find your hole so I can put my finger in,” Freya told me quite candidly.

I took her finger and guided it to the entrance of my cunt. “There we go. Push it in.” She slowly penetrated me, and I gasped in delight. “That’s it, in and out. So good.” I wanted more, though. “Put another one in,” I groaned and was rewarded with a second digit inside me.

I eased my own finger into Freya’s pussy and gently fucked her, being careful not to go too deep.

“Do it harder, please, Mum,” Freya begged me and I picked up the tempo a little, my finger making little squelchy sounds as it slid in and out of her. She matched me thrust for thrust, fucking me deeper and harder, a ring of frothy, creamy juices forming around her knuckles.

“Ooh, yeah,” I hissed. “Fuck Mummy, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl… not really,” Freya told me in a faraway voice.

“You’ll always be my little girl,” I said, and kissed her on the mouth.

“Fuck me, Freya! Make me come!” I cried, and as my orgasm burst to the surface, I held my daughter’s fingers deep inside me, whimpering; moaning while my spent cunt twitched and spasmed exquisitely. “Freya! Oh, baby girl, that feels so nice!” I let it wash over me, then relaxed, slumping against the bed.

“Well, you could have made me do an orgasm, too,” Freya pouted, and I realised that, in my urgency to come, I’d pulled my finger out of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. Do you want me to finger you again so you can come too?”

Freya flashed a wicked grin. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind rubbing my pussy on yours and making myself do an orgasm that way, if it’s okay with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her frankness. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get on top of you,” she told me.

“Hold on. Let’s try it another way.” I sat back against the pillows with my legs open wide. “Now come and sit on me sideways,” I said, arranging her on top of me until she was in my lap, her pussy snug against mine.

“I never did it this way before,” she said to me, excited at this new, naughty opportunity.

“This is called tribbing, by the way,” I told her. “Off you go then, sexpot. Rub away.” I swatted her lightly on the bum.

With a giggle, Freya began sliding her pussy back and forth on mine. I cupped her bum cheeks and pulled her in for a tighter fit, warm juices lubricating our erotic endeavours and infusing the air around us with an intoxicating musk.

“It feels so good!” Freya gushed as she humped against me.

Suddenly remembering something important, I paused in my grinding. “Oh, I have a present for you,” I said, retrieving a pair of lacy knickers from under my pillow. “Guess whose these are?” I held them mere inches from her face.

“Aren’t they yours?”

“Nope, guess again.”

She made a face. “I dunno, tell me!”

I draped the dirty panties across her face and took hold of her arse again, grinding my cunt against hers. “They’re a present from your teacher.”

“Miss Laine?! These are Miss Laine’s panties?!” Freya exclaimed, astonished. She pressed them to her nose and took a deep sniff.

“I thought you might like them,” I said as we settled back into a hot, sticky rhythm of pussy grinding. “Fuck your mummy, baby girl. Rub your sticky little cunt on me,” I was barely in control, spewing out the nasty words before I could stop them.

I remembered back when the girls were younger and I would bounce them on my lap, and how they would giggle hysterically. This was like a dirty, corrupted, wholly perverted version of that innocent game, and somehow that made it even better.

“Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, baby girl!” I panted, thrusting myself against my daughter as she rode me. “Fuck Mummy’s cunt!”

“Mum! I’m… I’m gonna do it on you, okay?!” Freya squealed.

Acting on a sudden impulse, I stuck a finger up her arsehole. Freya’s body jerked violently as she came against me.

I came too, arching my pelvis up so our cunts were mashed together. “Oh, yes! Come on me! Come on me, little girl! Oh, fuck!”

Freya fell forward upon me and I put my arms and legs around her, kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her. “Good girl… that was so nice… so, so nice… you’re such a big girl to make Mummy feel like that…”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep on me, Sadie’s panties still clutched in her hand. I gently laid her down next to me. Soon I would carry my daughter back to her room, but there was one more thing I needed to do first.

Reaching for my laptop, I opened it up and made a video call to Sadie.

My best friend appeared on screen, sleepy eyed; her hair a mess. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” she mumbled.

“No, nothing wrong,” I told her in a hushed voice.

“You woke me up, you cow,” Sadie groaned.

I spun the laptop round so that it was facing my naked ten-year-old daughter, peacefully slumbering with her teacher’s dirty knickers held to her face.

“Oh…” Sadie whispered, barely audible through the tiny speakers.

I spoke softly, taking on a playful cadence. “We had ever so much fun tonight, Miss Laine.”

I saw her shiver. “So I see,” she said, her voice tinged with desire. “I’d love to join you.”

“Soon,” I told her. “Soon…”

On to Chapter Eight!