Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cheryl Taggert

Dear Readers:

A hot, brief chapter … then finis in a few more days!

First, a reminder of characters and ages: Cheryl is twenty-one, but has the body she had when nine. // Anne is eighteen. // Becky, Anne’s sister with whom she has been having sex for years, is nine.

After our daisy chain began, we switched off several times. I had plenty of fun licking both Anne and Becky. Sometimes, I forgot that I’d grown younger the night before. My mind was still of a young woman, but my body was like a little girl’s. It still fascinated me.

After we had each come several times, we lay back and caught our breath. We were pretty well sated for the moment, so we just lay there, panting until our breathing regulated.

Finally, Becky spoke up.

“Anne, do you ever think of Mommy like this?” Apparently, she was still thinking of her mom in a sexual way.

Anne looked over at me and then at Becky. She was obviously conflicted talking about this. She’d done everything a girl could do to another girl with her little sister, but for some reason she didn’t want to talk about this. I could see it in her face.

“Becky, I don’t think Anne wants to talk about that.”

“Why not?” Becky asked, not understanding why Anne wouldn’t find the topic exciting.

“It’s just that…” Anne began but stopped.

“Just that what?” Becky asked. She was obviously not going to let this go easily.

“Okay,” Anne said. “Are you sure you want to talk about this?”

“Yeah,” said Becky.

“What about you?” Anne asked, looking at me.

“I guess,” I said. I really wasn’t sure.

Anne took a deep breath before beginning.

“Mom already did something with me,” she said, and I suddenly realized we could hear the air from the AC coming through the vents. It was that quiet. Both Becky and I were speechless.

“What do you mean?” Becky asked, sudden jealousy obvious in her tone.

“See?” Anne said. “That’s why I didn’t want to talk about this with you. I know how much you want to have sex with Mom, and the fact I have will just make you mad.”

Becky looked down at her feet at the far end of my bed and blushed. “Why doesn’t Mommy try something with me? Am I too ugly?”

Anne’s jaw dropped. “No! You are anything but ugly! It’s just that I think Mommy got a guilty conscience doing it with me.”

“How old were you?” I asked, unable to keep myself from entering the conversation.

“I was ten.”

“What did she do?” Becky asked, interested in spite of her jealousy — or maybe because of it.

“Pretty well everything,” Anne said.

“How many times did she mess around with you?” I asked.

“Just twice, but it was enough. My dad was away. In fact I think he had moved out for a time. Mom told me he was away on business, but I overheard some conversations on the phone — well, Mom’s side of it anyway — and they weren’t friendly. I guess Mom got lonely and saw me as a potential partner.”

“Wow!” I said, totally mesmerized by this tale. “You mean, she did everything with you?” I asked, knowing Anne understood what I meant by “everything.”

“Yeah.”

“Wow!” I said again. I could think of nothing else to say at that moment. I mean, what do you say to your best friend when she tells you her mom had sex with her when she was ten?

“Did you do it to her, too?” asked Becky, who also clearly understood the meaning of everything.

Anne nodded.

I stared at Anne. She was three years younger than I was, only eighteen, and her mom had seduced her at age ten. Eight years ago. Then I looked at Becky. She’d been only one at the time.

“No wonder you thought nothing of seducing your baby sister,” I said.

Anne just looked at me.

“What was it like?” I asked her.

“Fun, mostly, but it only happened twice.”

“Why do you think she stopped?”

“Actually, I think it’s because Dad came back home.”

“How did it happen?” I asked, wondering how a mother goes about seducing her ten-year-old daughter.

“She came into my room one night after my bath. She’d come into the bathroom a few times while I was in the tub and would look at me and walk out, saying nothing. Then she came into my room and asked me if I ever touched myself. At first I didn’t know what she meant. I mean, of course I touched myself. I remember thinking how can you live without touching your own body? I guess she realized she hadn’t been specific enough. She said, ‘I mean, down there. On your privates.’ and I suddenly realized what she meant. I’d been touching myself there for a while. It felt really good. I hadn’t come yet, but that was about to change.”

“Did you tell her?” Becky asked.

“I asked her if she’d be mad if I did touch myself there, and she said no, that she’d be proud of me.”

I was lost in these words. Anne and Becky’s mom was one of the prettiest women I’d ever seen. She was slim, athletic really. She played tennis and was known at her club as being very good. She was tanned and had light brown hair that fell to her shoulders. I loved watching her play because her legs were so shapely and her boobs, even though they weren’t very big, would still bounce when she ran after a ball, and she would put her hair in twin ponytails that I loved. It made her look younger.

“So how did it start from there?” Becky asked, interrupting my thoughts. Well, really it was more than thoughts. I was beginning to build a fantasy.

“She wanted to know if I liked the feeling it gave me to touch myself there. I told her I did, and she asked if I’d ever had it feel really good, like this overwhelming feeling that radiated from my middle outward making me feel like I’d just had the greatest feeling in the world. I said it felt good, but not like that. So she asked if I was interested in her showing me how much better it could feel.

“Of course, I said yes, and the next thing I knew she had pulled the covers down on my bed and was tugging my panties down. Then she started rubbing my little slit, just sorta massaging it, you know?”

Becky and I both nodded. We knew.

“After a few minutes, it was feeling good, the way it felt when I would touch myself. Then she asked me to show her how I touched it. I reached down and started rubbing up and down my slit and sometimes pinching the outer lips together. I had no idea about my clit, but it was obvious that’s what I was doing — stimulating it.

“I remember looking at Mom and she was getting all sweaty and breathing hard, you know, like panting. She was watching my hand and she told me to use two hands. I tried that, but she said I was doing it wrong, which was why the really good feeling wasn’t happening. So she spread my outer lips and showed me where my clit was. She told me to rub myself there. To concentrate on that small spot. She said I should wet my fingers first. I remember I was going to get up to put water on my fingers, and she laughed, telling me to let her wet them. And she took my index and middle fingers and put them in her mouth. Then she told me I tasted really good and had me put my fingers back on my clit and rub.

“The moisture now helped my fingers glide over my pussy lips and it felt a lot better than it ever had. She wet her own fingers and spread her legs. I saw then that she was naked under her robe, and she started rubbing herself while looking at me rub myself. I remember she was bald, which I thought was odd since I’d seen her naked before and she had hair there. I asked about it and she said she shaved it off because she likes smooth pussies. That was just what she said, ‘I like smooth pussies,’ as if she’d said it to me every day of my life.”

I felt some movement on the bed and looked over at Becky. She was copying what her sister and mother had done so many years ago. Her fingers were gliding over her little snatch, feeling the smooth pussy lips. I glanced at Anne, who had noticed what Becky was doing as well. We smiled at each other and I joined Becky by reaching down to my own bare slit.

“So what happened next?” I asked, wanting to hear the rest of the story before I came.

“After a few minutes, she said we should swap and touch each other’s pussies, so we did. She told me how to rub her and she started rubbing me, too. It felt a lot better than when I did it, even after getting my fingers wet. I remember thinking that Mommy really knew how to do that and maybe I should pay attention and learn so it would feel that good when I did myself. She also instructed me in how to touch her, so I was getting quite an education in masturbation.

“After a few minutes, she asked me if it was feeling good, and I said it did. She asked me if I wanted her to make it feel even better. I said yes, or nodded, or something, and she scootched down and put her mouth on my bare, tingling pussy.

“I went wild at the touch of her tongue. I hadn’t expected her to do that, and the idea itself was totally erotic, though my mind wasn’t used to erotic thoughts. All I knew was it made my pussy feel so fucking good!

“Within a minute or two, I could feel something building in my pussy. I told Mom, and she said that it was that great feeling she was telling me about and just to let it happen, no matter what I thought it might do.

“About a minute later, I had my first orgasm. Then when I had calmed down, she asked me if I would help her get the good feeling. Of course I said yes and before I knew it, I had my mouth on Mom’s pussy and was licking it and sucking it the way she told me to.

“Then Mom started gently bucking her hips and cussing, saying things like, ‘oh, yeah, fuck it’ and stuff like that. Then she was coming. I didn’t know it then, but after she came, she told me she’d had the great feeling and she thanked me for helping her.

“Then she told me that I could touch myself anytime I was alone or just with her, but not to do it any other time because some people thought it was naughty, but she assured me it wasn’t.

“Did you do it?”

“Only once, and she ended up having sex with me again when she noticed I was touching myself. We were watching TV and I just felt like touching myself. After that, she started crying and asked me to forgive her. I really didn’t understand at the time, but she’s never done anything with me since. Dad came home either the next day or the day after that, and she never mentioned it again.”

Becky and I were well on our way to coming, and we decided to attack Anne’s pussy and rub ourselves at the same time. We ended up all three reaching our climaxes at the same time, with Anne starting hers first, but only by a few seconds. I’m not sure who was next to start her orgasm, but at a point, I was aware that I was coming and Becky was too.

We ate dinner and ended up in my bed for the night. We were all three tired, so nobody started any sexual contact, at least not then.

I awoke in the night at some point to find that Becky and Anne had awakened and were busily sucking each other’s pussy in a beautiful sixty-nine. Becky was short enough that Anne had to bend herself a bit to be able to get to her little sister’s pussy while allowing Becky to get to hers.

I watched for a few minutes, and figured if they wanted me to take part, they would have roused me from sleep. Despite what was happening right beside me in bed, I fell asleep again.

At some point later, I awoke to find Becky between my legs, sucking and licking my pussy. Anne was now asleep, unaware of what was happening just inches away. I was very horny and it took less than thirty seconds for the nine year old to bring me to a mind-scrambling orgasm. When she crawled up to lie beside me, I asked if she wanted me to do her, but she declined, saying she was fine. She just wanted to lick me while I slept.

As I lay there in the after-glow of my orgasm, I began to hatch a plan. I wanted to have sex with their mother, and I thought I had an idea how to accomplish that. Yes, I thought it would work. Based on what I knew already, how could it not?

Continue on to Chapter 5