Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Mom Buys Me a Special Present

By Cheryl Taggert 

Just a quick note for those who may have read the most recent chapter before continuing here — after reading the first sixteen when it was first published. Please remember that this novel is being told as a flashback of sorts. “Cheryl” is telling about her life as she remembers it to be. Of course, it is all fiction, but this will explain how a nine-year-old often speaks in the narrative portions of the story like an adult. It’s because she is when she is remembering this story.

When I arrived home from our little orgy, I went straight to mom and explained everything, including how they pretty well guessed that she and I were lovers. She wasn’t angry, but she didn’t like someone having something on her, even if they were doing the exact same thing. Still, she understood and called them to make arrangements for an orgy that included Ronni and Randi, not to mention little Emily. At least that way everyone would pretty well have everyone on the hook, as it were, to ensure silence among the group.

When I went to bed I was exhausted, and Aunt Emmy slept with Mom that night. I couldn’t hear them, but I know they had a lot of fun together because the next morning, they both were sore.

Things went as usual the next few days. The usual was mostly me being lazy and doing nothing all day. Deanna was out of town, so there was nobody to hang around with unless I wanted to call some friend I barely knew who would probably want to play with Barbies. Mom took me to work a couple of times, and that was fun, but I was even getting bored with that.

Mom must have noticed my weird mood since she tried to talk about it on the way home.

“Missing Deanna?” she asked, obviously trying to start a conversation about it.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Well, I’ve noticed you being kind of glum lately, that’s all. I’d think you were on your period, but you’re only nine.”

“I guess I’m just kinda bored,” I said, hoping that would end it. The truth was I was not sure what was wrong, but I recognized that something was just not right with me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk about it, which meant I definitely did but wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Bored?” Mom asked. “With all those people wanting to have various forms of sex with you at my work?”

“Yeah, but it’s always the same people,” I said.

“Ahh… you need a new conquest, then.”

“Huh?”

“You want someone new. Someone fresh. You’re getting bored doing the same things with the same people, am I right?”

“I guess,” I said, shrugging and looking out the window at nothing.

“Okay,” she said and thought for a while as she drove. “Young or old?”

“Huh?” I wasn’t following her question.

“Young or old? Do you want someone young or someone old, as in an adult?”

“What does it matter? I’m not going to be able to just order someone. It’s not like calling up a pizza place and ordering a pizza.”

“Weelll… maybe, maybe not.”

I looked at my mom, wondering what she was up to. “What? You’re saying I can order someone over the phone?”

“Men do it all the time. It’s why their called ‘call girls,’ sweetie.”

“You’re gonna call up some prostitute and have her come over?” This was insane. Most of the prostitutes I saw in the city appeared to be in their forties or older and looked like they’d been ridden hard and put up wet, which was an expression I’d learned recently while horseback riding. Anyway, hookers hung out on street corners. They didn’t set up meetings over the phone. I wasn’t interested.

My mom, not knowing my thoughts, answered my question cheerfully, “Sure. Why not?”

I described what I’d seen on street corners, ending with, “Besides, I’m only nine. It’s not like I’m legal.”

“First, the ones who do it by phone are much more expensive…and a lot better looking. And it’s illegal no matter how old the person ordering the sex is. We just have to be careful about who we call. Believe me, if the money’s right, the pussy’s tight.”

I had to laugh at that. “Where’d you hear that?”

“Honey, how do you think I got into this porn business anyway?”

It was then that a lot of questions I never knew I had were answered. My mom had never explained to me how she got into a business where she fucked men and women in front of a camera for money. Good money, in fact. She was actually a star in the business. She was bigger than just about anyone ever had been. I never really thought about it, but we were not hurting for money. I had just taken it all for granted, I suppose. I had never once wondered how my mom got her start. That she was famous in her field was just something that had always been as far as I was concerned.

I decided to pursue this information. “You were a prostitute?”

“Well, a call girl, yes. I never hung out on street corners hoping the next Ted Bundy didn’t pick me up. I was one of those high-priced girls. Sweetheart, I could name some famous people I’ve been with. Politicians, rock stars, movie stars.”

My mom had been in bed with famous people?! “Who?” I demanded, needing her to tell me just one, at least.

“I’ll tell you a few, but you have to SWEAR you will never tell another living soul. Emmy doesn’t even know who.”

“I swear! Just tell me! Who?”

She named a well-known national politician and one of my favorite rock stars. My jaw may have come unhinged. I had studied the politician in school and he was always talking about family values and all the immorality in America. What a hypocrite!

But the rock star really got my interest.

“HIM?!” I said, referring to the rock star. You went to bed with HIM?!” I was so jealous of my mom right then. (I’m bi, remember?)

“Yes, him. And others. The thing is, though, that I know who I can call and get you a premium piece of ass. If you want it,” she concluded.

“And they wouldn’t, like, turn you in for getting a woman for your nine-year-old daughter to have sex with?”

“It’s been done before.” She turned and looked at me, and I knew by the way she looked that she had done that. Someone had ordered a call girl for a child and she’d been the one the child got.

“You mean… you? You were sent out as a call girl to have sex with a kid?”

Mom nodded, a smile playing on her lips. It seemed as if she were remembering it fondly.

“Anyone I know?” I asked.

“Not anyone you know personally.”

“Who was he?” I asked.

“Don’t you mean, who was she?”

“She? It was a girl? A famous girl?”

Again, the nod and wistful look.

“Please say who. Please?”

She named a young actress who was now an older girl, of course, but who had started out as a little girl in the acting business. I had an enormous crush on this girl and would drool watching her old movies when she was a young girl. Hell, I’d drool watching her more recent ones, too.

“So you’re telling me that you could make a phone call, and a beautiful young woman would come to our house and have sex with me?”

“Yep.”

Then I asked a question I don’t think I had ever asked my mom before. “How much would this cost you?”

She laughed. “Don’t worry about that, honey. I wouldn’t offer if I couldn’t afford it.”

“Are there any redheads?” I was becoming obsessed with redheads lately, perhaps because true ones are such a small percentage of the population.

Mom laughed again. “I don’t know. I’d have to ask, but I’m sure you’d be happy with whoever showed up.”

“And she’d do whatever I told her to do to me? And she’d let me do whatever I want to her?” I was beginning to really like this idea.

“Yes and yes.”

Then another thought occurred to me. “What about diseases?”

“These people I’m thinking of are guaranteed disease free. They get checked every week.”

That sounded a lot like the porn business.

“You sure you don’t mind paying for this?” I asked.

“I don’t mind. As long as I get to watch.”

I smiled. This sounded a lot like an adventure. “Okay, call.”

This was before cell phones, so my mom made the call when we got home.

“We aren’t going to make this anything even closely resembling a habit, but I thought you might like to have this experience at least once in your life,” she said while she waited for the call to connect.

Then someone answered on the other end.

“Hi, Zelda!” She apparently knew the person who answered. “It’s Kayleigh Katz,” she said, using her industry name. She listened for a moment. “Yeah, I know. It’s been too long. Listen, I need a girl….no, not for me, silly! I get plenty at work. It’s for someone else.” She listened some more. “Well, do you remember that time I told you about the young girl, the actress?” Another pause. “That’s the one. I need someone whose interests lie in that direction, if you get what I mean.” Zelda was saying something. I could hear the voice but not the words. “Yeah, like that,” Mom said and paused, listening to Zelda. “As a matter of fact, it is for her,” she said to Zelda and glanced over at me with a smile. “Hey, she inherited my libido! What can I say?” I could tell Zelda was laughing as she replied to my mom’s comment about me. “No offense, but you’re way past fifty and she wants someone nearer her own age,” Mom said, laughing back. Apparently, this Zelda, who was much older, offered to take care of me herself. Zelda said something else and Mom added, “She’d love a redhead if you have one, but it has to be natural, no dye-jobs or wigs. In fact, she wants all natural. No boob jobs either.” Another pause while Zelda did something and then spoke. Mom replied, “Yeah, shaved is fine, even waxed.” Mom looked at me for approval with that part. I smiled and nodded. I was having a hard time believing this was even happening. My mom was getting me a high-priced call girl! “Okay,” Mom said several times, with a brief pause between each one while Zelda said something. Then she gave Zelda our address, said good-bye, and hung up.

“She’ll be over in an hour,” she said.

I was too surprised to speak.

********

The doorbell rang an hour later, almost to the minute. Mom went to the door and let the girl in.

I nearly fainted. Standing in the foyer was one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Her long, bright red hair hung down her back. She wore small diamond stud earrings and a tiny diamond stud sat along the side of her slender nose where she was pierced. I had always wanted a nose piercing like that, nothing elaborate, just something to sparkle along the side of one nostril. Her full lips, delicately painted with a subdued red lipstick, were spread in a wide smile that warmed me in all the right places, and her perfectly capped teeth, outlined by the pale red lips, shone so white they dazzled. She wore a short, spaghetti-strap V-neck sequin dress that showed her lovely back off with the crossed straps that I was dying to slowly remove to watch her breasts come into view. Her shoes were simple, black gladiators. She looked to be in her early twenties, if that.

I was instantly in love.

She smiled at me before looking at my mom.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to be here,” she said. “My name’s Cindy.” She had a Southern drawl that was only mildly pronounced, as if she’d worked to either eliminate it or refine it. It didn’t matter which. I thought it sounded like a Mozart minuet.

“I’m Kayleigh,” my mother said, “and this is my daughter, Cheryl.”

“Hi, Cheryl. Are you the one I’m here for?”

I didn’t speak. I just nodded as I gazed at this vision. Believe me, I see many beautiful women, but this girl was something else. She was not too tall, which may be why she wasn’t a model, only about 5′ 6″. At that time I was about 4′ 10″, so she wasn’t towering over me the way a really tall woman would.

Cindy giggled and walked up to me. Taking me in her arms, she hugged me, holding me to her tenderly. I felt the swell of her breasts as they pressed into me. I found myself thinking of removing her clothes again and felt my pussy twitch.

I caught a whiff of her perfume and recognized it. It was one of my mom’s favorites, Tom Ford Fleur de Portofino, a very expensive perfume. It started around $230 a bottle, and that was for 50 ml, a little over 1.5 ounces. My mom swore she’d hang me if I ever borrowed any when I was little and liked to play “dress up.”

Cindy turned now to my mother. “Ms. Katz, I am so happy to meet you! I hope you don’t mind a gushing fan, but I’ve seen so many of your movies! Some days, I’ll pop one in and spend the next few hours bringing myself to orgasm after orgasm.” She looked at me again. “Honey, don’t believe everything you hear about us girls in the sex trade. We like a good come as much as the next person. To be honest, I rarely come with a man, but with a woman–Hoo-Wee! And with a little one like you, I may end up melting!”

I laughed at that, well chuckled really. I didn’t want to laugh too hard for fear of insulting her or, more likely, embarrassing myself.

Mom spoke up, “I don’t mind gushing at all. I am flattered you would watch me so often.” Then she changed the subject. “Shall we move to the den? I think we’ll be much more comfortable in there.”

Mom led the way and Cindy took my hand as we followed.

“Have you ever done anything? You know, sexually?”

“Yeah.” It was all I could think of to say. I was still amazed at how beautiful Cindy was. I kept thinking, I’m going to have sex with this woman in a few minutes.

We had arrived in the den, and Mom sat in a chair that faced the sofa. We had thrown a coverlet over it to protect the fabric from the juices that would naturally be oozing from our pussies soon. Mom had also placed a small towel on the seat of the chair she sat in.

Indicating the sofa, Mom said, “Won’t you sit here with my daughter?” and we sat.

I could feel Cindy’s eyes on me. I glanced her way and blushed.

“What kind of things have you done?” she asked. For a moment, I thought she was talking to Mom, but of course she was talking to me.

“What kind of things…?” I said, at a loss as to how I should reply.

“Yeah, hon, I mean, have you masturbated? Do you come? Have you ever made love with someone else?”

“She’s masturbated, but she’s never been with a woman before.” It was Mom who said it, and I immediately understood a few things. First, that I was to pretend I was inexperienced in lesbian sex; second, that Mom didn’t want Cindy to know the intimate details of our lives; and third, that this was as much for Mom as it was for me. She was implementing a scenario, a live performance. It would be like a movie, but without the cameras.

Still, Mom’s sudden response surprised me. I don’t know if Cindy recognized that it did, but it did.

I went along with what Mom wanted. She was paying for this, after all.

“Yeah, I’ve come a lot masturbating, but I haven’t had real sex with anyone,” I said. Then I boldly added, “Except for my Pooh Bear.”

Cindy laughed at this remark, as I hoped she would, and I just sat there and listened to the music of her laughter, which caused my heartbeat to speed up a bit.

“Oh, you are a dear!” she said, putting her arm around me and pulling me closer.

“What about you?” I asked. She burst out laughing at that until I realized she was misunderstanding my question. “No, I mean, have you ever had sex with a girl my age before?”

“Oh.” She got control of herself before continuing. “How old are you, dear?”

“I’m nine, but I’ll be ten in two weeks.”

“Well, I’ll be honest,” she said, glancing at my mom. “I have a daughter who’s seven. We’ve, well, we’ve done quite a bit together.”

I blurted out my response before I could think. “You should have brought her.”

Cindy and Mom both laughed at that, with Cindy saying, “My, my, you are the bold one, aren’t you?”

After they stopped laughing, Cindy asked my mom, “Have you ever watched her masturbating or let her watch you?”

Of course, that was how my mom and I got started in the first place, but Mom didn’t mention that. She just said, “Yes, we’ve watched each other.”

“So,” Cindy said, “what do you want to do?”

“Can I undress you first?”

“Honey, you can do whatever your heart desires. I’m yours for the next two hours.”

Two hours? I had not known Mom had agreed to pay for that long. My mouth began to water.

As I reached over to ease the straps off her lovely shoulders, I saw Mom out of the corner of my eye starting to take off her own clothes.

“Are you going to join us?” Cindy asked.

“No, I’m just going to watch,” said Mom, and Cindy got the idea right away.

Cindy turned to me and said, “See what I mean? Just cause we’re in the sex business doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy it when the opportunity comes along sometimes.”

The top of her dress was now a puddle in her lap as I gazed at her boobs. They were perfect. Not too big and not too small, though I prefer small breasts. But Cindy’s breasts were just right for her.

Remembering that I was supposed to be a virgin at this, I looked at Cindy and said, “If I don’t do it right, will you tell me? Teach me?”

“Sure, honey. I’ll make sure you do it right.”

Her eyes had drooped to half-lid status. This woman was either very turned on or a very good actress. It occurred to me that if she were acting, she should look into doing porn.

I slowly moved up to her mouth and tentatively kissed her, snaking my tongue into her mouth and seeking her tongue to make oral love to. She responded with a deep sigh and soon we were making out like a couple of horny teenagers.

My hand stole to her chest and began to play with her boobs. I realized I could feign ignorance on how to do that, but I felt that would be taking it too far.

I pinched her nipples and she said, “Yes, pinch them.” I pinched and even twisted them a bit. She seemed to enjoy that, so I continued doing it.

Finally, I brought my mouth to her chest and began to suckle like a baby at her mother’s breast. I tried nibbling some, and she liked that too.

I began to wonder if she were one of those people who like to feel pain. I knew about them, of course. Masochists. Most nine-year-olds were probably totally ignorant such people existed, but because of my mom, I knew full well what they were.

Cindy lay back and let me devour her titties. I glanced over at my mom at one point, and she was massaging her own boobs, squeezing them and pinching her nipples. I could tell she was getting rather worked up watching me with Cindy.

I sat back and peeled my own shirt off. I had no boobs to speak of, but Cindy reached out and softly played with my nipples, which stiffened at the contact.

I moved down to pull Cindy’s dress all the way off. I tugged it until it was at her knees and then slid it down her legs and off. Her panties and shoes were all that remained on her, so I tugged my pants off, leaving me naked except for my panties, which had the Little Mermaid on them.

“Ooh, my Jenna has panties like that. They’re so cute.”

Her voice was huskier now. A deeper resonance had been added by the lust she was obviously feeling. I reached out and touched her pussy through her panties, which were silk, and obviously very expensive. I carefully pulled them down and off.

Cindy’s pussy was waxed except for a small line of flaming red hair that extended upward from the top of her slit. I knew it was called a “landing strip,” and I intended to land my mouth on her slit very soon.

Shedding my own panties, I looked at Cindy and saw she was admiring my smooth mound. In fact, she looked hungry. I, myself, felt ravenous.

I leaned over her middle and could smell the lovely scent of her juices that were bubbling to the surface. Reaching out, I put a finger on her slit and felt the slick moisture gathering there. She was soaked. I quickly reached down and removed her gladiators.

By now, Mom was also naked, which made three of us. Her hands had begun their exploration of her body, moving down and up, cupping her breasts and pinching her nipples, then diving down to caress her inner thighs and sweep across her mound to leave a brief contact of pleasure there before rising once more to her boobs.

I recognized this movement as the beginnings of her self-induced lust. She would often begin masturbation sessions in this way. It was my experience that she would come at least a half dozen times before slowing down, once the orgasms began to mount inside her.

I stood back and looked at Cindy, admiring her flawless body, the swelling breasts, the stiff nipples, the smooth skin of her midsection, the warm mound that rose from her hips to place her clit in easy reach. Her legs had the look of a runner’s legs, slender yet muscular.

I reached for Cindy and pushed gently to urge her onto her back. Then I climbed on top to her, my head at her center and my pussy poised above mouth.

“You sure you’ve never done this?” she asked.

“I’ve seen a lot of porn,” I answered, paving the way for me to at least seem to know some of the mechanics of what we were about to do. Like a novice, though, I repeated to her, “Tell me if I’m not doing it right.”

“Oh, honey, so far you’ve been perfect!”

I lowered my pussy to her lips, and she greedily accepted it, covering my mound with her mouth. I could feel her tongue whip-sawing across my labia, thrashing across my clit and bathing it in a combination of her saliva and my juices.

She stopped for a second. “You taste lovely,” she said before returning to the fountain.

I placed my lips on her pussy and kissed her there. Then I was teasing her clit with my tongue, gently pressing against it and releasing the pressure, holding the contact just long enough before moving back, creating a rhythm while I slurped her copious fluids into my mouth and down my throat.

Soon she was squirming against my mouth, pressing her mound to my lips to meet the pressure from my tongue. It was a wild dance that built like soft music builds to a crescendo. Her lungs were heaving air and sucking it back in through her nose as the orgasm approached.

I could hear Mom in her chair, her palm slapping her pussy as her fingers plunged in and out. Slick, squishy noises accompanied her rise to a climax, or at least what I knew would be the first of several. Then again, maybe she’d come several times already. I had been rather occupied with making love to Cindy. I remember thinking how lucky Cindy’s daughter Jenna was to be able to have this delicious cunt to feast on whenever the opportunity arose.

Then I could feel the orgasm rising in me as well. It was possible Cindy and I would reach our first peaks at the same time. Maybe even Mom would do the same.

I didn’t care, really. I just knew I wanted to come in Cindy’s mouth and let her come in mine. I felt the pressure of my orgasm building, knowing that the final climb to coming would rise quickly, taking me almost by surprise.

And then I was there. Groans and gasps escaped me as I rode Cindy’s mouth to bliss. Within seconds of my own climax starting, Cindy’s did. She bucked and heaved, groaning into my pussy while she brought me off.

We each lasted at least half a minute and finally, I heard my mom coming. She squealed with the delightful pleasure of her orgasm.

None of us stopped there. Cindy and I continued licking each other while Mom continued her masturbation. I thought of switching to tribbing with Cindy, but felt that might suggest more experience than I should have. I heard my mom come at least three more times, maybe more. I came twice more, and Cindy at least three as well.

Then we lay back, exhausted and satisfied.

“I’ll ask again. Are you sure you’ve never done this before because if you haven’t, you, my love, are a natural.”

I glanced at Mom. Her look said to keep the story going, even if Cindy didn’t believe me.

“Never,” I said.

“Well, fuck, girl. You are without a doubt the best first-timer I’ve ever had, and I’ve had quite a few, even young ones like yourself. You beat ’em all.”

“Thank you,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

We all got dressed, and Cindy and my mom took care of the payment. I was shocked to see my mother give Cindy a short stack of one-hundred-dollar bills.

After Cindy left, I asked Mom how much she’d given Cindy.

“Two-thousand.”

“That much?”

“Well, she’s only due fifteen hundred, but I tipped her the rest. Of that fifteen hundred, she will only get a hundred fifty. The management gets ninety percent.”

“That’s not right!” I said, angry that she was doing all the work and the others would get the vast majority of the money.

“That’s how it works, baby. Always has and always will.”

“So she won’t tell them about the five hundred dollar tip?”

“Nope.”

“Could you get her on in a movie?” I asked.

“If that’s what she wanted, she would already have it,” Mom said, and I dropped it. It was making me angry and I wanted to enjoy the feelings that lovely lady had provided me.

Still, it made me sad to know that unless my mom overpaid her, she’d have gotten only ten percent of the money.

When I awoke the next day, Mom reminded me that Deanna would be getting home that afternoon.

I don’t believe I ever looked forward to something as much as I did her homecoming. I had missed her more than I thought, I guess. So much had happened and I couldn’t wait to tell her all about it, not to mention hearing how her own vacation went–with her mom and sister, especially.

Continue on to Chapter 18