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Nanny for a Night, Chapter 7

  • Posted on June 18, 2015 at 1:24 pm

The Joy of Sex-E Mail Correspondence

By Cheryl Taggert

About a week later, I decided to email Gina and find out what was happening to her and her family regarding the mutual desires of her and her girls. While it was true the girls’ father also desired his daughters, or at least Lynn, I was not that interested in what happened there. It was Gina and the girls I was most interested in keeping up with.

In my email, I also mentioned the woman who apparently saw us kissing good-bye, wondering what happened there. Here is the exchange of emails, starting with my first to her since they’d gone home…

July 18: Hi, Gina! Anything fun going on at your house yet? I can’t wait to hear about it if something has happened. In the meantime, I noticed a woman about your age was at the hotel and must have seen our rather passionate good-bye kiss. She smiled and waved at me as I pulled away before rushing to you and calling, “Hey!” I saw you stop and talk to her. Were there any developments there? She seemed happy to have seen us like that. Love, Cheryl

July 19: Hey, Cheryl! First, no real developments here yet. I have managed to catch Lori playing with herself one evening at bath time, but nothing significant. She stopped immediately when I entered the bathroom. I so wanted to tell her not to worry that it was fine with me if she played with herself but I just couldn’t manage to talk about it for some reason.

The woman who saw us was very much interested in getting to know me better, but in all honesty I was already rather sore from the combination of the night before with Evan and that day with you. Plus, there was nobody to watch the kids and Evan and I had already planned a final night out for dinner at Mi Casa. Mexican food is one of our favorites, and we’d heard the food there was great (it was!), so I exchanged email addresses with her and we’ve done some corresponding. She is very interested in getting together there next summer if we can manage it, or perhaps she and I can plan a weekend together. At least, that’s where things seem to be headed.

I’ll let you know if anything else develops on the home front. Love you! Gina

July 19: I certainly understand about soreness. I didn’t touch my pussy for a few days myself. If you arrange a weekend with her and would like a menage a trois, let me know.  😉

July 23: My lovely Cheryl! It has happened! And it was everything I hoped it would be and more! Here’s the scoop, as promised. I have provided what was said and done to the best of my memory:

I decided I would have to set things up in a way that Lynn would be “busy” when I got home from somewhere, since Lynn was obviously not going to just drop her pants in the den and masturbate with me at home, and I don’t barge into the girls’ bedroom when their door is closed. (Yes, they share a bedroom. Did they tell you that? At least now I know my frequent fantasies involving that have really happened.)

I told her I was going to run some errands (a lie) and wouldn’t be home for at least three hours (another lie) and told her to be sure to put away the DVD’s she and Lori had watched the afternoon before. This last was a set-up. You see Evan and I have several adult movies on DVD, and I decided to load one (one with a lot of girl-girl sex in it) into the player, as if Evan and I had watched it the night before after Lynn and Lori had gone to bed. I knew Lynn would remove the movie in the player if told to put away their movies, and the picture on the DVD left nothing to the imagination as far as what the movie on it was about. I figured that Lynn would think I had forgotten to clean things up after her father and I had watched the movie, which is something I’ve actually done before in the heat of the moment of passion, only to remember the next morning and take it out and put it away.

I thought the girls might get interested in watching an X-rated DVD if they knew I would be gone for at least three hours, and of course they did.

I waited about a half hour or so before returning home, having stopped for a latte and scone to enjoy to take the necessary time. When I entered, oh my, the sight that greeted my lustful gaze!

The girls were both naked on a blanket on the floor, with the DVD playing away, and Lori was between Lynn’s thighs, her mouth glued to her sister’s pussy! Lynn was facing away from me, and the DVD was playing rather loudly, so neither of them heard me pull into the driveway or enter the house. Lori, of course, was too occupied with bringing her sister off to notice me. In fact, her eyes were closed and she seemed to be savoring the delicious flavor of her sister’s immature juices.

I moved behind a wall briefly so I could remove my clothes before stepping out again to watch them. When I stepped out, they were still in the same position, only now Lynn was obviously getting very close to what appeared to be a massive orgasm, if her squirming was any sign of how much she was enjoying her little sister’s oral copulation with her most sensitive area.

I could feel the juices from my pussy coating my insides. The warmth of these fluids spread throughout my vagina and covered my labia and clit. I reached down to my wet slit and ran my middle finger from my vagina to my clit, shuddering as the finger came in contact with my magic button.

I watched as Lori licked and sucked her sister. I had moved to where I could see them with little chance they would see me. I was on fire and realized I needed to move quickly before Lynn came. I wasn’t sure what would happen then—if Lynn, having come, would call a halt to the lovemaking or if she would then get her baby sister off as well. Lori could have already come for all I knew. I just wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t take a chance the loveliness would end.

Stepping forward into the room, I said, “Hello, girls.”

It was as if I had touched them with a live wire. They immediately scrambled for cover, as if I’d never seen them naked before, covering their bodies in sudden shame for what they’d been doing. They paid little attention to me at all. None, in fact. They had heard my voice and immediately assumed the worst. I couldn’t blame them, really. If my sister and I had been caught as they had just been, we would have reacted the same way.

“We’re sorry, Mommy!” came tumbling out of Lynn’s mouth, the mouth I longed to kiss as a lover kisses her partner. The mouth my pussy craved.

“Yes, we’re sorry!” said Lori, still hiding her face from my view and thus, from seeing my nudity.

I continued to stroke my clit, keeping it on a strong simmer in anticipation for what I yearned for and hoped would happen. After all, the girls may have told you they wanted to have sex with me, but little girls change their minds. Would they still want to have sex with their mother? I find it odd I hadn’t thought of that until that moment, and embarrassment flooded my body at the thought I might be rejected.

At that point, though, there could be no going back. If they rejected me and my desires, I would just have to live with that. I suddenly realized that even if they chose not to pursue a sexual relationship with me, I would still allow them to be with each other, and without guilt. Guilt plagued my sister and me over the years; I would not allow that to happen to my daughters.

Biting the bullet, I asked, “What are you sorry for?”

Both girls looked at me, the obvious question on their faces: What do you mean, what are we sorry for? We were engaged in oral sex with each other! We were watching one of your sex DVDs! The questions that at first were written on their faces changed to a different question: Why are you naked? Then knowledge began to dawn, and the questioning looks were gradually replaced with looks of disbelief, quickly followed by sheer joy as if I had just told them Santa Claus was outside with presents for them in the middle of summer.

I grinned at them, telling them in that smile that yes, they were not dreaming, that I was naked and that we were definitely going to enjoy ourselves together that afternoon—if they wanted to.

Yes, Cheryl, even at that point, I was determined they would be the ones to choose what happened next and throughout the day, the week, the coming years. I refused to ever have them think that what we did was ever forced upon them. This was their choice, and if one decided to pursue the sexual relationship her mother was offering and the other didn’t, then the one who chose to abstain would not be made to feel guilt or remorse. Her decision would be welcomed with as much acceptance as the choice to say “Yes” would have been.

But they were each jumping up and down with glee, so I think I had my answer, but I wanted to be absolutely certain they understood.

“First, Cheryl mentioned you were both interested in having sex with me—and even your father, but we’ll have to wait on that until we all understand the ground rules for his being included. For now, I want you both to know that if you decide—ever—to not have sex with me, even if we’ve been having sex for some time, I am fine with that. This is your choice, and it’s a choice for each of you. You don’t need to have the same decision. I want to enjoy each of you sexually, and I want you to enjoy me, but that is always up to you, each and every day the opportunity arises.”

“I want to!” said Lori.

“Me, too!” shouted Lynn, and the deal was set. It was what I hoped for, what I yearned and hungered for, and it was finally about to happen.

I will tell you now, Cheryl, that my desires began when they were very young. I first noticed my desire to one day engage in sex with Lynn when she was still a baby and was sucking my nipple for her nourishment. Nursing made me feel so connected to her, and I was actually very surprised that there was a sexual thrill involved with having my baby suck my breast. I have heard that nearly all women feel this, but I am sexual enough that it made me hope that one day we could be lovers and I could teach her to suckle me again, not for nourishment, but to build sexual desire in us both. Of course, when Lori came along, I was ready for the thrill it gave me to nurse her, and I resumed my habit of masturbating to orgasms while nursing that I had begun with Lynn.

Evan saw me doing that one day and his interest was piqued, to say the least. He even got me to fondle their pussies at that very tender age, but I stopped as soon as they were old enough to stop nursing. They seemed to enjoy my intimate touches, but they had no say in whether or not I continued, so I stopped.

As they accepted my offer of lesbian incest, the movie they’d been watching was still running. Appropriately, there was a threesome with only girls on the screen at that moment, and I pointed it out. “Do you two like the movie I chose for you to watch when I left?”

They stared first at each other and then at me, their mouths dropped open in utter disbelief. They’d been set up, and they were just fine with that, thank you very much.

I sat them both on the sofa and had them spread their legs, with Lori’s left leg draped over Lynn’s right. “Watch the movie and enjoy it while I do something I’ve longed to do for many years now.”

They sat back and as my mouth moved from one girl to the other, sighs could be heard clearly over the sound of the moaning girls on the TV screen. I began by kissing the insides of their thighs, trailing wet kisses up and down between their pussies and their knees. My tongue bathed these tender areas as I moved slowly up and down each girl’s thigh, alternating between each girl and then each thigh as they watched the sex on the screen, occasionally turning to each other to kiss briefly.

“Mommy, are you going to lick our pussies?” asked Lori, obviously getting a bit impatient, but that was fine too.

“Yes, Sweetpea, Mommy is going to lick your pussies until you come on Mommy’s tongue and lips.”

“Do it soon!” she whined, pushing her hips up to try to entice me to lick her hairless mound and slit. This girl knows what she wants!

As I moved to Lynn, Lori put her hand on her pussy. Ah, she was going to finish what I had more or less started. I stopped her. “No, Sweetpea, let Mommy do it. It will feel so much better when you do finally come. Believe me. You will love it.”

She stopped rubbing her slit, but the impatience was evident in her face. Her look said, “Okay, I’ll give you some time to get me off, but if you take too long, I am going to take matters into my own hands—literally.”

I decided to end her impatience and bring her to glorious orgasm. After tonguing Lynn for a moment, I returned to Lori.

I sliced my tongue between the lips of her small pussy as I had been doing, but this time I didn’t stop with just one swipe through this particular heaven. My tongue began to vibrate on her tiny nub of a clit, moving back and forth across it as fast as my tongue could go. I looked into my younger daughter’s eyes and communicated silently that, yes, it was time for her to come.

Her red face was bathed in sweat and desire. She watched as my tongue swam hurriedly through her fluids, applying the necessary pressure to her clit to get it to the orgasm she wanted so badly.

In seconds she was bucking her hips against my mouth and nearly screaming as she came. I could feel the spasmodic contractions of the muscles in her pussy as waves of joy washed over her, spreading from her very center, where those convulsions had their birth. Each muscular contraction of her vagina brought whimpers of joy and satisfaction from her. I could barely believe she was so young. Her orgasms were more like those of a woman my age. Full. Complete. Volcanic. I suppose the times with Lynn had taught her body to have more mature orgasms. What a lucky girl she is.

Lori lay back and watched with hooded eyes as I turned back to Lynn and began to urge the beginnings of her climax from her. I did what I’d been doing before—coaxing the orgasm from my daughter’s depths slowly by seducing her with little kisses and licks all over her lower body. I would stop with only one swipe of my tongue across her clit, which was definitely a bit larger and more noticeable than Lori’s, and Lynn would buck into my mouth with each of those tantalizing touches with my tongue on that fleshy bundle of nerve endings.

Soon, I could feel the need in her just as I had felt the impatient need in Lori. Lynn, being older, seemed to understand that postponing her orgasm would make it that much better. I was amazed at her sexual maturity, not in a physical sense but a mental and spiritual one.

My tongue began the same fast dance across her labia and clit that Lori had enjoyed. Lynn’s body began to quiver and vibrate with the ecstasy of desire that was coursing through her body at that moment. She was close. So close I wondered if she could feel her orgasm’s vibrations before they touched her, which is what happens to me when I am about to have a more powerful orgasm than usual. She began to undulate beneath my lips and tongue, and finally the orgasm began to whip through her, causing her body to heave and bounce with the sheer pleasure of it.

As with Lori, I felt her vaginal contractions coursing through her body at light speed, causing her orgasm to emanate outward from her center to engulf her entire being. Throbbing and shuddering sped through her body like lightning. Her sighs and moans seemed to echo in my brain as I lay back, knowing I had finally done what I’d wanted to do for over a decade now.

The wait was worth it, Cheryl, and I have you to thank for it.

Finally, I lay back and announced, “It’s my turn!”

Two gorgeous and sexy little girls came to my rescue. They started with my boobs and moved down to my tummy and thighs, doing to me what I had done to them, licking, sucking, and kissing until I was a mass of shivering flesh in need of a powerful orgasm.

Finally, two mouths were fastened to my sex. I looked at them. My juices, which seemed to be gushing from me, covered their faces. Wet smiles greeted me until the smiling mouths went back to work on my pussy. I was in heaven. It may have been my own personal heaven, but it was enough of heaven for me at that moment.

The sisters, my daughters, went to work on my clit in earnest. A tongue on each side of my pussy licked at the tiny pebble that contained a mountain of lust and desire. My orgasm approached with surprising suddenness. I felt the vibrations before my orgasm hit, like an earthquake can be felt approaching, and my pussy simply exploded into an orgasm that made me feel as if I could never feel anything better. Never in my life. Never in a thousand lives. This was the best orgasm, the best anything, anyone could ever experience. Sensation wrapped me up and cuddled me while I went through a wild dance of purest delight.

When we had all caught our breath, I suggested a shower. That was another experience I will never forget, watching my little girls bathe each other and me in a most sensual and lovely way. I ended up getting myself off while they actually lay on the floor of my large shower stall and performed a lovely sixty-nine.

I still haven’t told Evan, but I will soon. I just want it to be mine for a few days longer. The girls understand and have yet to say a word in Evan’s presence about what we did.

My life is perfection now. THANK YOU!!!

Cheryl, I hope you’ve enjoyed reading this. Let me know, okay?

All my love,
Gina

July 24: Oh, my GOD, Gina!!! That was unbelievable! Do you know how often I’ve come already just from reading that? FIVE!

I am so happy for you and the girls! Please write more, but you can keep the details about what they do to Evan out of it. (Funny, but until you mentioned his name in the email, I didn’t even know it. Shows how interested I am in taking your husband from you. LOL!)

I am much more interested in what you do with them—and what they do with each other. 🙂

Love ya lots!
Cheryl

Continue on to Chapter 8

 

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Sheila, Bridget, and the Girls, Chapter 5

  • Posted on June 17, 2015 at 12:47 pm

By Naughty Mommy

NOTE: You may find it helpful to use this link for Characters & Relationships.

In the morning, Fiona came awake to the disconcerting feeling that she wasn’t sure where she was. For one thing, she was naked, and she never went to bed naked. Then she remembered that she was at her Aunt Bridget’s apartment, in the spare bedroom, a place she’d often slept. And then she remembered what had happened the night before. Wow!
________

Bridget awoke as she felt the girl climbing into her bed, nuzzling up to her. She turned toward the child and sleepily wrapped her arms around her.
________

Sheila’s pussy was very wet. Lying on her side, still half asleep, she’d started rubbing herself again. She often masturbated just as she woke up in the morning. It was a perfect day to start the day. Or end the day. Or spend the day!
________

Fiona recalled how she’d gone to her aunt’s bedroom to tell Bridget about discovering her mother and her sister having lesbian sex… and then a few minutes later how she’d asked Bridget if she could watch her masturbate… but then she’d got scared for some reason, acting like a little kid, almost crying, and Bridget had comforted her, holding her, caressing her, which felt so good… and then she’d actually sucked on her aunt’s nipple, which was totally awesome, and then Bridget had started rubbing between her legs, and that felt really good, and then…… did she truly have an orgasm or did she only dream that part?
________

As she stroked her pussy, gradually starting to come more awake, Sheila realized that Erin was in bed with her, lying behind her, apparently still asleep. She smiled to herself as she remembered how they’d made love so wonderfully the night before, and especially the way she’d finished by climbing on top of her 15-year-old daughter and fucking her hard, cunt to cunt.
________

Debby sighed happily as she squeezed close to her mother, feeling warm and safe. Bridget kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Good morning, angel.”
________

No, Fiona was certain it wasn’t a dream. She really had been touched by her aunt that way, right between her legs, caressed so tenderly until… until it felt better than anything ever.
________

“You’re naked again, Mommy,” Debby observed. Her face was resting on Bridget’s breast.

“Uh-huh… sometimes I like sleeping that way.”

“I like it when you are. I really like feeling, um, just your skin.” The child, who was wearing only a very short nightie and a thin pair of panties, laid her slim leg over her mother’s, hugging her even more tightly.
________

Sheila turned to look at her daughter. She was already beginning to get close, but now that she knew that Erin was there, she wanted something more than just her fingers to make her come.
________

Bridget was getting turned on. She loved the feel of Debby’s sweet young body next to hers. pressing tightly against her. It made her want to touch herself.
________

As she thought about the night before, as she remembered Bridget expertly caressing her, stroking her, getting her so unbelievably excited, 12-year-old Fiona felt a kind of a buzz between her legs, making her want to touch herself.
________

Erin was fast asleep on her back, her head on a pillow, her pretty face surrounded by a tousle of red curls. Even as she continued masturbating, Sheila started kissing her daughter’s mouth, kissing her urgently, wetly, bringing her awake.

“Wh… Mom? Hi.”
________

“Mommy?”

“Yes, honey?” Bridget petted Debby’s silky soft hair.

“Are we still gonna go to the beach today?”

“Well, I don’t know. I think we are. Do you want to?”

“Yeah I really really do. I love it. Will Fiona and Erin be there too? And Aunt Sheila?”
________

Sheila climbed on top of Erin, mounting her, planting her knees on either side of the teenager’s head. Using both hands, she spread her pussy lips open, offering her hot wet cunt to her daughter.
________

Lying naked in bed, Fiona opened her legs and began playing with herself, masturbating as she recalled the thrill of having Bridget’s fingers touching her everywhere, exploring her, sliding inside her slit, rubbing her so perfectly, making her little pussy so hot and wet.
________

“I really hope Fiona’s there. I like playing with her and stuff.”

“Me too,” said Bridget, stifling a grin as she thought about Fiona and the naughty way she’d played with her (and stuff) the night before. “Tell you what, let’s you and me hop in the shower together, then after that I’ll call Aunt Sheila and ask if they’re still going to the beach with us today. Okay?”

“Okay. Except, um, I took a bath with Fiona last night and already washed my hair then.”

“All right. Well, you don’t have to wash your hair again this morning, but I would like you to take a shower with me, if you don’t mind, so you can scrub me and everything.”

“Sure!”
________

Fiona was already getting close as she thought about being with her aunt and doing those things, sucking on her nipple, being touched so nicely by her. It was almost like they were having sex… wait, were they having sex? Like her mom and her sister?
________

Sheila loved looking down at her daughter’s face this way, seeing it centered between her legs, the girl’s tongue busily licking her, sucking her, eating her, getting her ready to come. She held Erin’s head in her hands and rocked her pelvis up and down, fucking the girl’s mouth with her cunt. She was almost ready.
________

She remembered discovering them together, her mom and her sister, Fiona standing in the hall and looking through the door, seeing Erin with her head between their mother’s legs, licking her, actually licking her pussy! And her mother getting so excited, moaning and panting — and as she thought about that, when she pictured them having sex, Fiona started to come.
________

“Mommy’s gonna come in your face — you want Mommy to come all over your pretty face now, honey?”

“Mm-hmmf,” Erin nodded and tried to reply. It wasn’t easy, though, with her mouth full of her mother’s pussy.
________

Fiona was climaxing, trying very hard not to make any noise. She held her hands over her sex, her face turned into the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut as the delicious orgasm consumed her.
________

It was another intensely powerful climax for Sheila, so delectable, so completely satisfying, so perfect. In the few months since she’d become intimate with her daughter, she’d had more orgasms and better sex than she’d ever known in her life — better than she’d ever imagined possible.

Although she wasn’t ready yet to declare herself a lesbian as her sister had, the thought certainly had crossed Sheila’s mind. Why would anyone want a man when a girl could make you feel this way?

Now, as she finished coming, she slid down beside Erin, kissing her, tasting herself on her lips. They cuddled together for a few minutes, and then Sheila suggested they get up and take a shower.
________

As she sat up slowly in the bed, Fiona smiled to herself. That was a big one. It seems like they’re getting bigger all the time. She stretched contentedly and thought about getting dressed.
________

Bridget washed her hair first, and then she and Debby rubbed their lathered hands all over each other’s bodies. This was a special pleasure they had enjoyed ever since Debby was just a toddler. Bridget hoped her daughter would never outgrow it, never decide she was getting too old to take showers with her mom. And secretly Bridget wondered if someday these soapy caresses might turn into something more intimate and sensual.
________

Mother and daughter were in the shower together, touching, kissing, rubbing their wet soapy bodies against each other. Erin giggled happily as Sheila pushed her up against the wall, humping her leg and shoving her tongue into her mouth. The teenager loved knowing that she could get her mom so excited, so turned on.
________

Fiona wandered out into the hall. The place was still quiet, although she thought maybe she could hear the shower going in Bridget’s bathroom. But Debby was probably still asleep. I wonder if I should check on her, or wake her up? Nah, let her snooze a little longer. I’ll just go get some cereal or something. I wonder what my mom and my sister are doing right now. Who knows?
________

Finger-fucking each other as the hot water streamed down, Erin and her mom soon climaxed. Both were so highly keyed with incestuous lust that their orgasms together came quickly and easily. When it was over, their cries echoing off the shower tiles, they panted and sighed, kissing, sucking fingers.
________

Debby and Bridget carefully dried each other off, then Debby went to her room to get dressed while Bridget started blowing her hair dry.
________

As she sat at the kitchen table with her bowl of Cocoa Krispies, Fiona thought to herself, what will happen next? I know about my mom and my sister, and now Bridget knows too. I guess we have to tell them we know. But how? How do you ever talk about stuff like that? Maybe Bridget will have some ideas.
________

From the bedroom, Bridget called her sister’s house. She heard four rings and then the answering machine picked up. She left a message, asking if their plans to go to the beach together that day were still on, and after hanging up the phone, she stood and mused for a minute.

Should I say something to Sheila today, let her know that I know about her and Erin? Maybe, but maybe not. I would never want her to think I was judging her, certainly not condemning her. After all, I’ve had similar feelings about my own daughter. And how about what I did with Fiona last night? Should I tell Sheila about that? Perhaps, but… I ought to have a talk with Fiona about all this first. I made a promise to her that what she told me would be in confidence, that I would keep her secret. Okay, so that’s what I’ll do before I do anything else. I’ll talk with Fiona.

She slipped on a robe and went to the kitchen to make coffee.
________

Sexually sated, at least for the time being, Erin and her mom turned off the shower and got out. They chatted and joked, sometimes playfully touching each other as they started getting ready for the day.

Continue on to Chapter 6

 

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“Ding-Dong, the Bells are Gonna Chime”

  • Posted on June 17, 2015 at 3:47 am

By Cheryl Taggert

I just wanted to share something with my readers, and if you recognize the allusion in the title of this, you can probably guess what it is.

When I was in college, I met a girl named Lisa. She and I hit it off very well and eventually became lovers. Actually, we each wanted to devour the other upon meeting, but it took some time before we admitted it to each other. We moved in together, and she did her job and I did mine. (She manages a restaurant; I teach seventh grade English/Language Arts.) She is also the other girl in my story, Midnight Awakening in Amherst, and she has lent her name to several of my characters over the years.

I decided one day to confess to her about my most secret desires. I was so nervous I was shaking; she was flabbergasted. Not because she was upset, but because she shares my secret desires. She had actually read some of my stories at the Nifty site, but since my last name isn’t really Taggert (not even close), she was unaware she was reading stories by someone she actually knew in real life — intimately. I know. Small world, right? It is truly rare that two people with that particular sexual taste meet like that, and I considered it a blessing I had someone to whom I could be completely honest, as did she. My guess is that I probably run into people all the time who’ve read my stories, but with the world being what it is, neither of us would ever be able to say anything about it. I’m sure it’s true of my partners in erotica, Naughty Mommy and JetBoy as well. Lisa was the love of my life, and it has always been about more than sex.

Sadly though, a few years later we split up. I won’t go into the details about that, but we were apart for a few more years until she contacted me when I was undergoing treatment for my cervical cancer and told me she missed me, still loved me, and wanted to get back together. I was skeptical at first, but I let her back into my life.

Within a few weeks, I realized I was still in love with her. Actually, I knew that all the time, but our breakup was painful for me and I was afraid of being hurt. There was barely a day when we were apart that I wouldn’t think of her, even when I was living with someone else for a while.

Anyway, we continued to date, and a few weeks ago she moved back in with me, once the lease on her old apartment was up.

But you see, that’s not what I am writing this to tell you. Ho-Hum. We moved in together. No, the reason I am writing this is to announce my upcoming wedding!!!! 🙂

We are getting married next week, and we are taking a three-week vacation. I have the summer off, and she has a lot of vacation time built up. I will try to keep up with story postings here while gone. I know I have readers, even fans, who are always checking back for the next episode of whatever I am working on at that time.

I have the next two chapters of the Nanny series completed, and one will post this Thursday. By the end of the weekend, I will have the next two chapters of Waltz of Desires ready to post as well. This will keep things going on my end for the time I am gone, and I will do my best to put up a few more chapters for one or the other since I will take my laptop, and I am sure I will find myself ready to write at times while we are on our extended honeymoon.

Please wish me well in my new life with the greatest and most beautiful girl I have ever known. She’s actually done some modeling, but not for anything major, just some regional ads.

And finally, if you haven’t read Naughty Mommy’s post, Sex Work, on how she goes about writing these stories, shame on you! You MUST read it; it is fantastic. Naughty Mommy, whom I call my big sister, writes essays that are as good as her stories when it comes to sheer good writing.

Oh, and if you missed the allusion in the title of this blog entry, it is a line from the song, “Get Me to the Church on Time,” from My Fair Lady, one of my favorite musicals: “I’m gettin’ married in the morning / Ding-dong the bells are gonna chime…”

Later!

Cheryl

 

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Sex Work

  • Posted on June 16, 2015 at 1:46 pm

By Naughty Mommy

I have been writing erotic fiction, strictly for my own enjoyment, since I was in my early 20s (I’m in my late 30s now). At first all my stories were about unrelated adult women and sometimes teenagers having lesbian sex. I hadn’t yet discovered my fetish for incest or for plots involving underage girls. The youngest girls I would write about at the time were around 16 or 17 years old.

Gradually, though, as the years went by and I grew older, my characters grew younger. They also became related. I don’t remember exactly when I first wrote a story about incest, but I’m almost certain it was sisters at the beginning and then later mothers and daughters. Once I embarked upon that path, however, my interest in writing erotic stories overflowed like a waterfall — a nice, warm, aromatic waterfall, if you get my meaning.

It’s kind of sad now to recall the inner conflict I felt in those early days, though. More than once I decided that writing such things was just not right, and I threw out everything I’d written, sometimes stories that were 20 or 30 pages long. How I wish I had them back now. They might not have been any good, but it would be so interesting to compare my style and my interests then with where I am today. Oh well…

Another thing I did in more recent years, starting in maybe my early 30s, was find stories I liked online, that had a seed of an exciting idea or maybe an expressive writing style, and use that as a takeoff point. Actually I would download the story text and then revise it to fit my specific desires. Often that might mean taking unrelated girls and converting them into sisters, or turning an aunt and a niece into a mom and daughter, that sort of thing. I also would change or eliminate scenes I didn’t like, so dildos and strap-ons were mostly out, along with scat, pee, anal, super hairy pussies, DDDD boobs, and so on. The more I did that, though, the more I realized I might as well just start from scratch and compose my own stories. I eventually dropped the habit of tinkering with the stories of others several years ago.

Mind you, I never had any intention of publishing any of those stories as my own work, nor, for that matter, of publishing my original stories. I was much too nervous about letting anyone see my creations, thinking they might not like the way I wrote. It wasn’t until just a couple of years ago that I finally found the courage to post a story online. The only reason I wrote erotic fiction back then (and a major reason I write it today) was to turn myself on. It worked, by the way. 😉

So, where do I get my ideas now? From my imagination, almost entirely. Sometimes, of course, my imagination can be fired by something I’ll see when I’m out, or by looking at, ahem, stimulating pictures. But just about everything you read in my stories comes out of my own perverted little head — and not, I should add, from personal experience. The actual life I lead probably would bore you. But my fantasy life, now that can be pretty exciting!

The challenge, of course, is to find something new to write about — especially since there really is nothing new. The same basic themes are repeated again and again in my stories. That’s why, for me, characters count even more than themes. If I can get my characters to come to life, often they’ll provide an interesting new perspective on old issues.

In her essay on this subject, Cheryl said something important: “Allow the story to write itself.” I’m a great believer in that. Frequently if I’m feeling unsure of where a story should go or how a scene should play, I will lie down in a dark room, close my eyes, and then simply watch and listen to my characters, letting them tell the story. It’s often literally as easy as that — they tell me what to write and I obey.

I also find it refreshing and invigorating, a great aid to my writing, to get plenty of physical exercise, mostly by going for long walks or riding my bike. I can’t tell you how many times I have written almost entire chapters in my head while out on a walk. I come home and the words just flow.

Once I have the first draft of a story or a chapter written, I will leave it for a while and go on either to the next chapter or to another story. Cheryl talks about letting her ideas “ferment,” but I don’t often do that. I prefer to get my ideas written down as quickly as possible. After they are composed in initial draft form, however, then I will let them age, like fine cheese or wine.

Working far ahead helps a lot. I’m fortunate to be in a favorable domestic situation that allows me to manage my own time, mostly, and to write as much as I want to whenever I feel like it. Having hours a day to spend creating erotica is quite a luxury, I realize, and I try not to take it for granted. It also helps that I tend to write fast, and when I’m going well I don’t worry about editing as I go along. I try just to let it run and find out where the story will take me. Later I will go back and revise as necessary.

Currently I am about two months ahead in my writing, compared to when I plan to post my stories/chapters to Juicy Secrets. That means I have a few dozen chapters already written that no one has yet seen. Theoretically I could publish them all tomorrow. But then the quality would suffer, and I will not allow that.

To get the level of writing I demand of myself takes a lot of work. The initial draft may come out in a swift flow, but refining it and polishing it can (and does) take weeks. Daily I will go back and re-read chapters I wrote long before, making little adjustments and improvements, sometimes even big revisions.

Starting about a week before the planned posting date for a chapter, I will re-read it once a day, usually the first thing in the morning, at the start of my work day. This allows me not only to check once again for typos or continuity errors and to keep enhancing the descriptions and the dialogue, but also to increase my familiarity with the characters. When I get to know them, they can help me a great deal with the upcoming writing.

So that’s how I work. I read and revise, read and revise, over and over again, constantly working to make each story the best that it can be. When I finally post a new chapter and you read it online, I already will have read it myself (and revised it) many dozens of times. But I’m not complaining. What I do definitely is a labor of love — and lust. Sex work is the best work.

 

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Impossible Moments, Part Two

  • Posted on June 16, 2015 at 1:08 pm

By Karen Cypher

I am not with her again until the following Sunday. The three of us have come to the annual Memorial Day picnic at Clearwater Lodge. Kevin has taken over the task of organizing the set-up at these gatherings and has solicited help from most of his office staff. I almost chose to stay home because I suffer from the weakness and fluctuating heat that follow my periods now. I’ve heard other women describe hot flashes, but this is different; not a flash, but a constant, deep-radiating unpleasantness that leaves me moody and lethargic. I’d been in bed all morning, reading, when Laura came to ask me if I wanted to go. Since I was her sole mode of transportation, it was a given that my quiet morning was at an end. On reflection, I decided that fresh air and company might be just the escape I need.

Kevin had arrived much earlier, so Laura and I circle the mostly full parking area to find a space that is not directly in the sun. Pennsylvania is not exactly hot at the end of May, but the temperature feels warmer than in years past. Hell, maybe it is just me who feels warmer. Laura walks across the lawn in the direction of the BBQ pavilion and food. I wave her on, preferring the main path to take advantage of the shade provided by a narrow copse of tall trees. The limbs are full of tiny flags that hang from the lower branches, and temporary plaques are staked into the ground along the walk, each telling me the various deeds of fallen soldiers – locals one and all – and the sacrifices made for their country. The gesture is simple yet thoughtful, and given the occasion, I pause to read each and every one.

Nearly finished with my trek and typical of my mood swings, I am suddenly restless – impatient with the loss of time, the slow walking, the droning of insects, the stagnant air. Maybe it was a mistake to come. I consider sneaking along to a back entrance where I can sit isolated in the air-conditioned coolness of the lodge, or maybe find a quiet space on the shaded porch.

Then Laura is there. I can’t see her, nor can I hear her, but I feel her somewhere around me, a sensation like a cool hand sliding up my back. Alert, I immediately scan the area ahead while my mind visualizes her appearance: a quarter-sleeve purple top and jean skirt, bare legs tone and still awaiting the tan that summer weather would surely bring, sandals hanging loose on a finger so her feet can luxuriate in the cool grass under the trees. Aware of her, my good mood returns as quickly as it fled and it takes all my strength not to turn around, not to call her name. I thrill that she is watching me, and purposefully, I continue my slow walk so as not to spoil her clandestine musings.

Reaching the lobby of the lodge, I no longer feel the need to be isolated, yet that is exactly what I get. Kevin has gone off for a meeting with the senior directors, giving me a quick kiss and assuring me he will not be long. Laura is studiously not looking at me from the other side of the room, where she talks with one of the ever-present young males who hover around her.

I don’t mind. It’s now my turn to watch her.

I like how she carries herself; charismatic and approachable, as if she is never out of her element. Unlike some teens, Laura is rarely stilted or awkward in a crowd, engaging strangers with a steady, natural enthusiasm for company that she certainly didn’t learn from watching me mingle. Her hair is sleek and glistening in that quirky, freestyle haircut that I find so attractive, and the purple of her blouse is perfect for her dark hair, also complimenting the paler shading of her skin.

Then her eyes meet mine, and I find myself grinning in sheer pleasure. I watch her excuse herself from the young man and make her meandering way across the room to stand at my side.

Still smiling, I have the urge to tell her everything: my emotionally topsy-turvy walk from the car, my weakness in body, and my awareness of her presence while watching me on the path. We stand together in companionable silence for a moment, idly scanning the people around us before taking that imperceptible sliding-step toward each other, shoulders touching. Her arm circles my waist and I feel how sticky my skin is against hers, how consciously aware that my body now trembles inside.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ve been sweating so much, I must smell.”

Holding me in the chaste embrace, she turns her head, arm gripping tighter against the thin, damp cotton of my dress while her fingers squeeze my side. “I love how you smell, Grandma,” she murmurs, sniffing deeply, subtly pushing her hip harder against mine.

I hesitate, knowing she is teasing, but also loving the playful banter that flows so easily between us. Glancing around at the groups of people chatting nearby, I respond to her in kind. “Laura!” I chide unconvincingly. “I don’t know who put such thoughts into your head, but a woman does not talk of such things so openly!” Her stifled giggle was proof that I had scored.

I drift away for a time, making the short walk to the food pavilion and sampling the many offerings before eventually returning to the main lodge and the glorious air conditioning. Two vodka and cranberry drinks later, I am actually starting to enjoy the seemingly endless small talk, when Laura once again slides next to me and snakes her arm with mine. “Grandma, can I show you something?”

I can tell from her touch, from the excited expression on her face, that she is up to something. Knowing her, it is probably something devious. “Show me what, exactly?”

The incandescent smile, the dancing eyes, and the way the air was positively humming around her – I admit that all of these are what allow Laura to steer me toward the stairway. We descend narrow, switchback steps into a corridor where every door stands closed, barring the exploration of mysterious places secreted behind. At the end of the hall, Laura pushes aside a heavy curtain, entering a tiny dark room like an improvised storage space. It is perhaps ten feet to a side, with an imposing desk, a loose pile of carpets and a shelf against the back wall that is lined with vague, unrecognizable shapes. My eyes adjust, but the room is still dark despite the illumination cast by the naked bulb above us.

I am not sure why she led me here, other than for the obvious absence of prying eyes and her propensity for mischief. Surely there is nothing she actually wants to show me? Turning, ready to walk back, I hear Laura begin to hum softly. It is an atonal sound, pulsing in time with the blood in my veins, her voice echoing faintly from walls etched with an ageless quality that permeates the room. Combined, they work to overpower my instinct to retreat. She somehow sooths my anxiety with the softest touch of her fingers, moving slowly, her head tilting slightly to seek my lips. I taste her breath – minty – a slight reminder of the tea she had upstairs. Her lips move more aggressively, seeking, her tongue asking questions of my mouth. My answer is a quickness of breathing that shakes my chest.

She teases; probes my need with her tantalizing kiss, encouraging my own tongue to follow with movements that send a tingling straight to my clitoris. Abruptly, I am glad we are secluded. I want to hold her closer and closer to me. I want to enfold her completely, draw her inside me.

It is not until she sits with me on the pile of carpets that I fully understand. “Here?!” I whisper in disbelief, instantly losing the playful magic. “Laura… baby… no, no, no! How can we?” I glance around, uncertain, uncomfortable and suddenly, desperately wanting to leave.

But she is touching me again, coaxing me, drawing me back down. I look up through the dim light to see the dark ceiling covered with swirls of fading paint, so old their colors have muddied. “Yes,” Laura murmurs against my throat. “Oh, yes, Grandma…”

Her hands have lifted my loose dress to move beneath the cloth, cupping my breasts through my bra, thumbs fluttering against my hardening nipples. Her fresh kiss once again sends her tongue questing deep in my mouth and I feel myself opening to her, giving in to the heat of my body – the need – until it becomes a steady surge, powerful as an ocean wave. Laura rides the wave, swimming closer and closer to my center. Her hand moves against me, the not-quite press against my pubic bone tormenting me with its lack of demand.

Then she pulls away a little and I see that she has caught my heat; her cheeks flush, her eyes shining. “We’ve got to take off your dress,” she murmurs, “or it’ll get all wrinkled.”

To motivate me, as if I needed motivation, she removes her purple top. For a moment her arms are held high, her torso lifted, and my body trembles with pleasure at the sight of her breasts. Unclasping her bra does nothing but heighten my perception; nipples tight and pink and so astonishingly perfect. In one motion, she steps out of her jean skirt and panties, throwing both to land on top of the desk. The ankle bracelet is a fragile gold line on her nude body.

“I’ll help you,” she says, unzipping my dress, working it off my arms and over my hips. I rest a hand on her for balance as I step out of it. My bra and panties quickly follow the same arc to land next to hers on the desk. Incongruous with our frantic need, Laura takes great care to fold my dress before placing it gently next to the jumbled pile of undergarments. Except for the vivid marks of a too-tight bra, I am also nude.

Slowly, she lowers us down, extending herself to lay full length upon me with one leg between my thighs and her pelvis sinking into mine. I am without resistance… I feel her heart pumping a staccato rhythm against my chest.

She begins by kissing my shoulder, raising my arm until her mouth finds the inside of my elbow. My whole being vibrates with pleasure and I can feel my cunt opening under the weight and warmth of her body. She moves to my wrist, her tongue wetly examining every millimeter of sensitive skin until she leaves it to kiss my palm – lingering.

Deftly, she lifts herself and moves down to kneel, smoothing the skin of my thighs with her hands. She leans to nuzzle, her cheek brushing my pubic hair, beginning a hot throbbing in my cunt. Her oral caress travels to my knee, tongue tracing every contour. She moves down again, briefly stroking my calves, arriving at my feet, which she holds in comforting hands between her breasts. Delicate kisses on my instep – exquisite warmth when she sucks each of my toes. I begin to moan.

Laura adjusts position to lie upon me once again, her mouth seeking my breast. I close my eyes as she fondles, cradles, her white-hot breath nearly driving me insane. Opening my eyes, I see her head bent to my breast, black hair falling forward and her expression one of intense concentration. Her lips close on my nipple and she sucks, tentatively at first, even tenderly. Our movements happen together now, our hips and thighs undulating. Letting my head fall back, I close my eyes yet again, giving in to this dance as Laura sucks more hungrily, all teasing aside, her teeth closing with tantalizing care upon my hard, straining nipple. I bend my back, thrust my breast into her mouth and she takes it, sucking in as much as will fill her.

Her hand has moved down between my legs, seeking my vagina, so wet and open. She slips her fingers into me, moving them slowly, and the heel of her hand rubs in tight circles over my clitoris. The pleasure is wonderful, the slow build-up excruciating. My clit is like my nipple and wants to be sucked.

I grip Laura’s back, kneading her shoulders, pressing her to me, nails digging but not scratching. We are electric with sensitivity where we touch, my mouth hungry to taste her.

She arches, turns, pivots, leaving my breast to cradle my hips, lifting and then swinging her leg across me. Just before she lowers herself onto me, I look up into the thin expanse of hair between her thighs, reach to spread the small, silky-pink lips of her vagina. On the walls, our shadows dance in ecstatic movement.

Then she is upon me, her mouth closing over my cunt, her breasts pressing into my belly, the weight of her hips on my shoulders, and – at last – the hot, soft opening of her sex for my mouth to suck and explore. I feel her moan, moving in quick, instinctive shudders as she settles atop me. I receive the weight, the feel of her whole body, opening my senses even more as my face is lost in her cunt. We have become one being, our movements directing a joyous pattern. There is no separation, yet I know I grip Laura’s ass, stroke and tickle the darker whorl of her anus, press her even closer.

Laura hums into my vagina, the vibrations lifting my body anew as I ravish the hot softness of her sex; my tongue plunging deep inside. Her ministrations send waves up through me – hard now – close now. She’ll stay with me. She’ll come with me. I am so very close. I suck and lick and suck.

I turn my head to muffle my cries against the soft flesh of her thigh. Long, high, ragged sounds are torn from me. I feel her convulsive groan of orgasm deep in my cunt as my hips jerk, fingers twitching in her ass.

And then we are free, floating outside ourselves in emptiness. There is stillness, a perfect stasis opening beneath us.

We hold each other for a long time before we are able to sit up, donning only our bras and panties. And it is a while longer before she lifts the carefully folded dress for me to slip into, stopping to kiss me, our mouths slippery and wet with the heavy odor of our bodies. I watch the purple blouse eclipse her breasts, the jean skirt slip up over her thighs. We stand, hands on each other’s waist, and I sink once more into those dark eyes, so open now, carrying me deep.

When we are outside the room smoothing our clothes into place, it is as if we have entered another reality. Perhaps thirty minutes have passed since we’d followed the lighted corridor stretching away from the bottom of the stairs. Closed doors still flank, still hide mysteries. Laura and I walk a reverse course, occasionally looking at each other with wide-open, sated eyes.

We wander off separately, I to immediately find a bathroom and freshen up, then to find Kevin, who, it turns out, has been waiting for me on the porch.

“You disappeared,” he says, without reproach. “You look… hmm… more relaxed?”

I am silent, but grateful for the closeness of him. We sit for a while in comfortable quiet, holding hands. Eventually, he walks me to the car. “Laura wanted to ride with me,” he asks. “Is that okay?”

I can only nod, smile; mutely gazing at his long, loving, and serious face while my body remembers Laura.

THE END

 

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Waltz of Desires, Chapter 1

  • Posted on June 15, 2015 at 6:07 am

Jenny and the Girls

By Cheryl Taggert

The following is a story I had completely forgotten about on the Nifty.org site, where I originally published my stories. This was written quite a few years ago, and I have polished it some and changed the title to post it here. The original version’s opening wasn’t that plausible, so I have re-worked it. I’m still not all that happy with it, but I’ll let it stand or not as it is now. I will post the other two chapters in the coming weeks. Re-formatting from Nifty to here is rather time-consuming. We will see if it gets my attention again for further chapters.


They say it takes one to know one, and I found this to be true when it came to my secret passion. You see, I love children, but more than emotional love. I am a female “lover” of children. You know, sexually. I’d use the “P” word, but it has such negative vibes associated with it. Add to that the fact that I am 100% lesbian, and you will understand my interests.

But women view sex differently than men do. It is an emotional and spiritual outlet as well as physical. So when we have sex with young girls, it is more than something for our own gratification, more than just getting ourselves off. It is a loving bond that exists between us and the girls we love. I guess that would include boys as well, but since they aren’t my taste, I will refrain from talking about what I don’t know. I do know girls. I am one, and I was a young one as well, and I know how we think…and react.

You see, it’s all about love, affection, and being cared about beyond those surface things that so many people, including our families, are interested in. It’s about finding a soul mate.

I am lucky enough to have found not one, but two. And that brings me to my first statement.

My name is Cheryl, you see, and soon after I first saw Jenny, I knew she was like me. Of course, we are different in many ways: for instance, she is a bit shorter than I am and I am blonde and she is brunette, but that’s not what I mean. I am not talking about the physical at all. I’m talking about that other thing–a love for young girls. Of course my interest in her was also because I found her extraordinarily attractive. After all, I am more than a lover of children. I love adults as well. I had masturbated frequently having all sorts of fantasies that involved Jenny. I desperately wanted those fantasies to become a reality.

She, like me, is a teacher. A sixth grade teacher. I would watch her when she was watching her class during lunch, or on the rare occasions we would take them outside for some down time. Her eyes would be on the girls much more than on the boys. And I would notice the little things as well. Those eyes would definitely react to the sight of a young girl who wore a dress and was sitting with her legs spread below the lunch table, oblivious that anyone could see up her skirt from two tables away. I would watch as Jenny’s eyes would glaze over at the sight of the young girl’s cotton panties, which barely concealed the hairless slit beneath.

It was when I noticed she licked her lips at such a sight that I was convinced, but I needed even more proof before confronting her about it. I got that proof one day after school.

Curious, I entered her room one day after school. Her door was unlocked, as we were instructed to keep them unlocked for the custodial staff to not have to unlock them to clean the rooms. They locked each room when they were finished. I went to her desk and started opening drawers. I wasn’t sure or even aware of what I was looking for. I just was curious what she might have. What she had was a gold mine in the form of a novel, stuck under some papers in the back of a desk drawer. An erotic novel about a woman like me and a young girl. The girl was ten, the woman thirty-five. It had taken me a few minutes to find it and a few more to read most of the scene where she had a bookmark placed. It was apparently one of her favorite scenes in the book. I could see why since it got me wet by the end of the second page.

That was when I decided to confront Jenny and become lovers.

The opportunity for this began when we had both taken our classes outside. A young girl was sitting on a bench in the school’s commons area, and amid the giggles she was sharing with a friend, she had allowed multiple peeks at her panties, which were a light blue with small red hearts. I was standing with Jenny making small talk when I noticed that her eyes would wander over my shoulder to look at something happening behind me. Curious to see if it was what I hoped it might be, I turned around and was greeted by the giggling girls and the one cutie’s undies.

I looked back at Jenny. “I’ve noticed you seem to enjoy sights like that one.”

“Like what one?” she asked, pretending not to understand.

“I’ve seen you looking at the girls’ panties in the lunchroom and out here. I would wager you spend a lot of time doing so in the class as well.”

Jenny blushed, redness spreading up her neck and into her cheeks. The blush branded her next words to be the lie I would expect from anyone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she said, barely getting the words out.

I decided to plunge right in and put her mind at ease so we could discuss what I knew to be our mutual desires. “Jenny, I have a confession to make–several in fact. I went into your room and searched your desk. It was hard to find, but I found the book you are reading. You know. The one with the thirty-five-year-old woman and the ten-year-old girl. It’s okay. I enjoy the same things. Your secret’s safe with me as long as my secret’s safe with you.”

I could practically see the wheels spinning in her brain, making sense of my words yet refusing to believe I had said what I had. I made it clearer. “That’s right. I like little girls too. And not just on an emotional level. I feel just like you do at the sight of that little girl’s panties, the ones with the red hearts.” Still she stared, unbelieving.

I plunged on, knowing this would eventually lead to her admission to me that she felt the same–and more perhaps. “Just like you, seeing that makes my pussy wet.”

Jenny exhaled and I realized she had not been breathing. “Oh, my God.” Her eyes tilted toward the ground and I could see the tears welling up in those beautiful eyes. Then she looked up at me again. “You won’t tell anyone?”

“Of course I won’t.” Glancing over my shoulder again at the young girl with the heart panties, I said, “She’s gorgeous. What’s her name?”

“Mollie.”

That she was a beautiful child was the truth. Mollie was an eleven-year-old knockout. She had blond hair that cascaded past her shoulders to her shoulder blades. Her hips were beginning to swell outward and her little nipples were beginning to puff into little plums and cause tiny hills in her tops. She had a slender nose and close-set brown eyes that looked as though they could cajole anything from anyone with the right look…and the most kissable, full red lips I had ever seen on a child her age.

Jenny and I stood beside each other, looking at the panty-covered pussy being displayed before us. I was grateful for dark sunglasses.

I said, “I can’t believe I have found someone like me. I thought I might be the only woman within 1000 miles who felt like this.”

“Same here. And it turns out we are right across the hall from each other at work.” We laughed a bit, more from the release of stress than from the humor or irony of the situation.

“So what are we going to do about it?” she asked. I had been wondering the same thing. Or maybe it would be more rightly called fantasizing about it.

“I assume you like grown women as well,” I said, glancing at her then returning to the two giggling girls. I had begun to realize the other girl’s shorts were short enough to be able to glimpse her panties through the leg holes when she moved certain ways.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ve noticed you many times…and thought about you when alone.” The implication was obvious.

Mollie and her friend got up from the bench and moved toward some of their friends, so I turned to Jenny. “So, your place or mine?”

She looked at me and smiled. “You choose.”

“Okay, then, my place at 7.” I gave her the address of my apartment, and she knew where it was.

After school, she walked into my classroom and closed the door behind her. “I have something I must show you. It’s in your coat room.”

Each classroom has a small area behind a wall at the back of the room where coat hooks lined the opposite wall. It was for students to hang their coats and sweaters and was not visible to anyone who entered the room unannounced. I think I knew what she wanted to show me.

When we entered, she turned suddenly and kissed me, her tongue moving swiftly to mine. I had been wet all that afternoon since we’d spoken and had gotten my students busy with some seat work to allow me time to think about Jenny, not to mention a few students in my class as well as Mollie. I had nearly come several times just from the fantasies and the constant leg motions beneath my desk, along with the occasional quick rubs from my hands.

We parted from our kiss and she was pulling down her slacks, tugging her panties along with them. I eyed her exposed pussy. It was completely bald. “I keep it waxed,” she said. “Do you like it?”

I knelt down and took her shapely ass in my hands, breathing in the aroma of her very wet pussy. “I love it!” I said and leaned in for a few licks. Her breathing quickened immediately.

“Wait,” she panted. “We can’t do this here. I’ll make too much noise and the principal will investigate.” This was true. The office was on the other side of my coatroom wall. I willed myself to stand on wobbly knees. I kissed her again.

“Don’t be late,” I said, composing myself.

“Should I bring anything?” she asked.

“Just those two girls we were watching today.” I laughed, but she just smiled, a strange glint in her eyes.

*********************************

When my doorbell rang at 7 o’clock, and I opened the door, I began the outrageous mental journey of figuring out exactly what that glint had been.

Jenny was standing there, grinning like someone who had pulled off the world’s most marvelous magic trick, and Mollie and her friend were on each side of her, sporting that same grin.

The two eleven-year-old beauties rushed in and hugged me as only young children can while I simply stared at Jenny, a million different thoughts rushing through my mind at once and causing me great confusion. I found myself wondering why Jenny would bring the girls, the thought that they might be joining us not even entering my mind. I guess I found that idea to be too unlikely to even consider. I was wondering how much she had told the girls and how much she hadn’t, as well as why she would bring two eleven-year-olds on a date with me. I know it sounds crazy, but I did not once think they were all three sexually active with each other, which of course is what it turned out to be.

And of course, what Jenny didn’t know is that I had my own surprise.

At that moment, my surprise walked in from the kitchen, a Pepsi in her hand. My daughter froze when she saw that not only was the woman I had told her would be coming for dinner there, but two girls her own age as well. Dani smiled. “Hi!” she said, smiling broadly, always the outgoing and friendly one.

Jenny froze, stunned too much to move and probably wondering who this was as much as I was wondering why she’d brought Mollie and her friend, whose name I still did not know. I, too, could not move, since the appearance of Dani only added to the overall confusion because I knew Jenny didn’t know who she was.

The two girls who had been hugging me, however, had no such problems. They immediately rushed to Dani and started a conversation as if they’d known each other all their lives. In the midst of this, I at least found out Mollie’s friend was named Emily.

I looked at Jenny. “That’s my daughter, Dani. She attends Jackson Middle School.” Dani invited the girls into the kitchen to get a Pepsi for themselves as Jenny’s eyes widened. “Wow! That’s so…” I expected her to finish with something like “surprising,” but neither of those came forth. “…HOT!” She managed.

I quickly realized what she was thinking. “Oh, no. No. We don’t… I mean she doesn’t… She doesn’t know about me…at all.”

Jenny looked slightly disappointed and a moment of protection came over me, but then I realized that Dani was a very pretty girl, so of course Jenny would be attracted to her. “Oh,” she said, slightly disappointed. Then realizing what she had implied, she stammered, “Oh! Oh, Cheryl. I am so sorry. I would never actually hit on your daughter. It’s just that…”

We stared at each other, and suddenly the humor of the situation hit us and we began to laugh hysterically. The girls, returning from the kitchen, just looked at us and shrugged before continuing their own conversation about where they went to school, what their favorite TV shows were, and such things as that.

“Excuse us, girls. We adults need to talk some things over,” I said. “Dani, why don’t you show Mollie and Emily your room?”

The three eleven-year-olds walked in a giggling mass to Dani’s room, leaving Jenny and me alone. We went to the sofa and sat down together.

“So you have a daughter? If she doesn’t know about you, what was she going to be doing while we made love?” Jenny said.

“First, she sleeps like a rock. I was just going to have dinner with you and Dani, we’d spend some time watching TV, and I would send Dani to bed. Within twenty minutes, she’d be so asleep she wouldn’t hear it if a dozen eighteen-wheeled trucks somehow got into the apartment and revved their engines and blasted their horns.”

“Are you serious? She sleeps that soundly?”

“Of course I’m exaggerating, but basically, yes. We could have sex in her bedroom and she’d never know it. Why would you bring Mollie and Emily? What were we going to do with them? Knock them out? And what did you tell their parents? What did you tell Molly and Emily?”

“What were we going to do with them?” Jenny repeated my question, then answered it. Leaning towards me, she nodded with each word: “Have…sex.”

“But how were we going to get them to–” I stopped cold, suddenly understanding. We didn’t have to seduce them. They’d already been seduced.

“The two girls and I are already lovers. We have been since last fall.”

If I hadn’t already been sitting down, I would have fallen over.

“Why do you think Mollie keeps showing me her panties? She’s getting me hot and she knows it. Think about it. How many girls wear skirts or dresses every day? And I told their parents I needed some help with some grading and things. They stay at my place frequently.”

Now it was my turn. “Oh my God.”

“It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“It was.”

“But what about Dani? She must think I brought the girls for her to have company. And I can tell you those two aren’t going to be completely satisfied just doing normal eleven-year-old shit.”

“That’s a good question. She won’t go to sleep as long as she has ‘friends’ here.”

We sighed. It seemed that dinner would be the only thing we’d get to do tonight. We were both very disappointed, especially since Jenny had brought two lovely young girls. I hadn’t done anything with a young girl since Dani was in Brownies and I had managed to get one of the girls in her troop to “play house,” making it seem as though she had talked me into the game one time when Dani was sick and no other girls showed up for the meeting. And even then it had only been some light kissing and some touching of each other’s pussies. I was so horny I could have come with a slight touch, which I would have to administer myself, apparently, once Jenny and the girls had left.

We chatted for the next half-hour until the kitchen timer went off, signaling that the lasagna was done. Jenny followed me into the kitchen and I asked her to get the salad out of the fridge while I pulled the lasagna out of the oven.

“I’ll get the girls. Where’s Dani’s room?” Jenny said.

“Just follow the noise,” I said, laughing lightly.

Jenny stepped out of the kitchen and stopped. “What noise?” she asked.

“Third door on the left down the hall,” I said and began putting the food on the table. A moment later, Jenny was back in the small dining room, but without the girls.

“They washing up?” I asked, but when I saw the look on Jenny’s face, I knew they weren’t. She had the look of someone not sure how to say something.

“What?” I asked her, getting annoyed with the whole situation.

“Shh… You’d better come see for yourself. Just DON’T be mad.”

She tip-toed down the hallway to the slightly opened door to Dani’s room, and for some reason I did too.

With her finger across her lips, she motioned for me to look into Dani’s room. As I leaned forward, the sight sent me reeling.

Mollie and Emily were on Dani’s bed. They were kissing and humping each other’s thighs through their clothes, obviously making love with each other. I watched, fascinated, as Emily’s butt rose rhythmically from the panting Mollie, rubbing her pussy against Mollie’s thigh. Mollie, more or less on the bottom, was humping for all she was worth. Then I wondered where Dani was. I adjusted myself to get a different angle of the room and saw her. She was sitting in her chair at the bottom corner of her bed and was watching the two girls together. Her hand was in her lap, frantically rubbing herself through her clothes. None of the girls had any idea we were outside the room watching them.

I was surprised to realize that the wetness that had been working itself up and subsiding all day now became a flood. The thought that I was watching my daughter masturbate while she watched two girls hump each other no longer mattered. I was so horny I knew I would not be able to walk away from this extremely erotic scene. I knew Jenny certainly wouldn’t mind the incest part of what was happening to me. Hadn’t she said it was hot when she’d thought I had been making love with my young daughter?

Suddenly, I felt my slacks drop in a puddle at my feet, followed by my panties. Turning, I found that Jenny had stripped completely and was totally naked. I guess she figured out that the girls wouldn’t be coming out of the room any time soon unless we disturbed them somehow. Raising my arms, I felt Jenny remove my top. I hadn’t been wearing a bra in anticipation of the evening I had thought I would have. This was turning out to be much better than I had thought it would be.

Standing behind me, Jenny wrapped her arms around my stomach and slid her hands up to my breasts, pinching the nipples and rolling them between her thumb and forefinger. I watched the two girls humping each other, getting closer to coming. I began to wonder if that would surprise Dani. Did she know about orgasms? Glancing her way, I figured she probably did. Her hand was now inside her shorts and I found myself wondering if she had the hand inside her panties or not. I strained to get a glimpse of something that would tell me. Then I saw. The panties she’d been wearing today were on the floor beside the chair. She had removed them and put the shorts back on. Then I noticed the other girls had done the same. Two pairs of panties, one blue with red hearts, were on the bed.

Dani started to spasm, and I knew she was coming. Yes, she had had orgasms before. There was no surprise on her face at all, just enjoyment.

By now, Jenny’s hands were starting to move down toward my pussy. They found their mark and I began to come immediately.

And not quietly.

Looking into the room I noticed that Mollie and Emily just glanced towards the door and kept up their humping and kissing. Mollie’s hand was inside Emily’s shorts, rubbing her butt with practiced strokes.

Dani, though, was different. She heard my moans and got up to see what was going on in the hall. “Stop! My mom will catch us!” she whispered frantically to the girls on her bed as my shoulder spasmed and bumped the door fully open, revealing Jenny and me in the hallway, with Jenny’s fingers in my pussy. It was Dani’s turn to freeze in confusion.

“Mom?” She wasn’t sure whether to run, cry, or what.

I had no other choice, though. I had to finish my orgasm that was still wracking my body and causing my belly, legs, everything, to shudder uncontrollably. Finally, I found my voice when it was over.

“It’s okay, Sweetie. I guess it’s time you found out. Your mommy’s a lesbian.”

Mollie and Emily were still humping away on the bed and Jenny joined them. As I caught my breath, Dani watched as Jenny started removing the rest of the girls’ clothing. When she was done, she lay both girls back and began licking their pussies, first one then the other. Finally, she pushed Mollie’s legs into the air, exposing her tiny anus. Leaning in, she began to tongue Mollie’s butthole. At that point, Emily moved to where she could get to Jenny’s pussy and ass. She spread the shapely butt cheeks and stuck her face into the cleft.

Dani and I watched as Emily moved her mouth back and forth from Jenny’s pussy to her butthole, licking, kissing, and sucking as she went. I was getting very turned on, and from the look on Dani’s face, she was too, no matter whether she wanted to be affected by the scene or not.

Looking at me, she pleaded with her eyes for permission. I nodded my assent and she moved toward Emily, pulling her clothes off as she went to her bed. Soon my eyes were feasting on my naked eleven-year-old daughter as she began to play with Emily’s pussy and ass.

I sat down on the bed. “It’s okay,” I said, stroking my daughter’s dark hair. “This is something we can always share now. Go ahead. Do what you want with her. Mommy won’t mind.”

Soon Dani was on all fours, licking Emily the way she had seen Emily lick Jenny. Then glancing back at me, she scooted her ass over in my direction and smiled. “It’s okay. Go ahead. Do what you’ve wanted to do to me. I won’t mind.”

And suddenly I realized I had wanted to do these things with her. Memories of snippets of dreams and my active imagination came up from where they had been buried. I had fantasized about Dani for years but had always denied it to myself. She was the faceless little girl I had always thought about when I masturbated. The one I had had countless erotic dreams about.

I leaned down and began to lick my daughter’s wet, hairless pussy. Her squirms told me that perhaps she had thought about this as well. Maybe she had masturbated to thoughts of me–or a faceless adult she now realized was me–doing these things to her. I moved my mouth to her asshole and tongued it while my fingers played in her pussy that was now sopping with my saliva and her juices.

Soon, we were in a daisy chain on the king-sized bed. My mouth was glued to Dani’s ripe body, Dani’s to Emily’s, Emily’s to Jenny’s, Jenny’s to Mollie’s, and Mollie’s to mine. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Mollie had said before sliding her tongue into my wetness. We were all very close and the sounds of slurping and licking were loud. I pictured what it must look like, and it sent me over the edge into a blissful orgasm. The others followed with their own orgasms within moments.

Dani’s hips began to move and she came, much harder than I remembered coming at her age.

But then, I had never had a woman I loved doing these things to my pussy and ass when I was eleven.

And for some reason, that thought made me sad.

Afterwards, we were all cuddled together on the bed.

“Are you happy about this?” I asked Dani.

“VERY!” she said. Enthusiasm was her middle name, it seemed. “Are you?”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

We had a group hug that turned into another mini-orgy, this time with all the young girls together in a three-way.

“Perhaps Heaven is like this,” said Jenny.

“Yes, perhaps it is,” I answered, smiling.

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

Continue reading Waltz of Desires, Chapter 1 »

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Bambi at the Beach, Chapter 5

  • Posted on June 14, 2015 at 2:04 pm

By Naughty Mommy

Ten minutes later, we had Bambi and Paige and Gwen settled in their room, which adjoined Eve’s. We made them promise to brush their teeth before bed, and not to stay up too awfully late.

With mischievous grins, they agreed, although we knew of course that it might be a long time before they actually were asleep. And that was okay. We were on vacation, after all. Not to mention the fact that I was hoping Gwen, and Bambi too, might think of some very special things for them to do with each other.

“Wow, they sure are a bundle of energy, aren’t they?” Eve chuckled as she locked the door between the rooms.

“Yes, they really are.”

Taking her face in my hands, I gave her a warm kiss.

“You’ve done a wonderful job of raising your kids, Eve. They’re both completely adorable. So smart and fun, and very sexy too.”

Her look darkened for a moment. Once again, I’d said something that took her by surprise, that even shocked her. She gave a nervous laugh, trying to shake it off. “Are they sexy? I’d never thought of my daughters that way, but…”

“But you said you were along for the ride, correct?” I took her hands in mine and squeezed them.

Another deep breath and then a tentative nod. “Uh-huh. That’s what I said.”

We got busy preparing ourselves for bed, and then I commented, “I usually sleep naked. How about you?”

“I — well, no, I, um, I usually wear a nightgown or something.” Eve was blushing like a schoolgirl. “But I, if, I guess if you want to, um, we can…”

“Would you unzip my dress?”

“Um, okay.”

She pulled the zipper down and I shrugged the green silk dress from my shoulders. I let it fall to the floor, and I was naked.

“Wow,” she breathed. “I knew you weren’t wearing a bra, that was obvious, but… I mean, no panties either. Just… wow.”

I turned around to face her, striking a pose. “Well, what do you think? How do I look?”

I’m very proud of my body, and not modest at all. I work hard to keep my figure. At 38, my breasts are still firm and don’t sag too much. My waist is reasonably trim and my legs are long and shapely. If I’m going to be a seductress of women and their daughters — and I am, that’s my mission in life — then I want to look the part.

“You look… you look fantastic.” She extended a hand, touching one of my breasts, lightly squeezing it. Then she smiled shyly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Of course not. But let’s get you naked too.”

Eve was wearing a gray tank top and a short denim skirt. I helped her pull the top over her head and we set it aside. Underneath she wore a lacy black bra. I was pleased to see that it was black. That told me she’d been in a sexy mood when she was getting dressed for dinner earlier that evening.

She reached behind her back to undo the bra, and as it fell away, I got my first good look at her breasts, set off by sharp tan lines, the revealed skin pale and lightly freckled. Eve’s breasts were not as large as mine, maybe a B-cup, but nicely shaped, and they sagged only a little. Her nipples were small and brown and stiffly erect. I fingered them with both hands, pinching them, which brought a gasp from her.

“Do you like that?” I whispered.

“Yes, I do.” Her voice was hoarse with lust. “Very much.”

I unzipped her skirt and pulled it down, kneeling in front of her. She stepped out of it. Eve’s legs were beautiful, probably her best feature. They were long and slim, very smooth and nicely tanned. I licked my lips as I admired them. I caressed her calves suggestively, hearing her breath quicken, then slid my hands slowly up the back of her thighs as I stood up. I squeezed her bottom. We kissed.

Hooking my fingers into the waistband of her black panties, I tugged them down over her hips and off. Now we were both naked. I took her in my arms and we kissed again. Eve pressed her mouth hard against mine, her tongue thrusting between my lips. We kissed that way for a long time, wetly and passionately, clutching at each other’s bodies.

Then we were in bed, making love with the lights still on. I wanted her to see everything. Eve sucked my nipples and fingered my pussy. She was an energetic partner, though clearly inexperienced. Her movements were sometimes a bit clumsy, either too slow or too fast, but I didn’t mind. She was eager, making a good effort, and that was what mattered. I let her have her way with me, doing what she wanted, enjoying herself.

After a while, I turned Eve onto her back and went down on her. It took several minutes for her to give in to the sensations and relax. But once she surrendered herself, it wasn’t long at all until she was coming in my mouth. She’d never been licked by a woman before and probably not nearly as satisfyingly by any man either. I’m very good at what I do.

I brought her to two powerful orgasms that way, and after she recovered from the second one, I crawled up to sit on her face, giving her a chance to see a pussy up close, to smell it and taste it and put her tongue inside. She was tentative at first, unsure of what to do, but I patiently instructed her and before long I was climaxing on top of her.

We rested after that, side by side in bed, holding hands. Eve was giddy with happiness, giggling and kissing my fingers. She was obviously proud of what she’d done, of being able to make me come in her mouth. I knew it was time for my next move.

“You know what I’d like to do?” I began.

“What? Tell me. I’ll do anything.” She sucked on my fingers, her face shining with enthusiasm.

“I’d like to watch you masturbate. And have you watch me.”

“Ooh, that’s kinky! I like it.”

And so we began. I moved toward the bottom of the bed and we faced each other, propped up on pillows, our legs wide apart. “I’ve never done anything like this before,” she grinned.

We started rubbing our pussies, watching each other’s movements, both gradually breathing harder as we felt our arousal slowly build toward a peak.

Then I said, “Eve?”

“Yeah?”

“You like watching me, don’t you…”

“Yeah, I do,” she nodded. “It’s hot. It’s like, dirty or something.”

“I know. I like it too. And you told me earlier that’s what especially gets you off at home, when you’re watching videos. You like to watch women masturbating.”

“Uh-huh, that’s what I said. I love watching them.”

“Some of the women you watch in those videos are pretty young, I’ll bet. Just teenagers, right?”

“Yeah, they are.” She was rubbing herself faster. It looked like she was almost on the edge.

“I want you to do something for me now.”

Eve licked her lips as she watched my fingers moving in and out of my dripping wet cunt. “Okay… what?”

“I want you to close your eyes and imagine that instead of watching me, you’re watching a younger girl, a teenager. Will you do that for me?”

She nodded, smiling slightly, and slowly closed her eyes. “Sure…”

“The girl is here in the room with you, sitting on your bed, masturbating. She’s a brunette, only 16 years old, wearing a ponytail, with long legs, a nice tan, and —”

Her eyes came wide open. “You mean Gwen, don’t you.”

“Yes, I mean Gwen. Close your eyes again, Eve, and picture your daughter playing with herself, sliding a finger inside her pussy, wanting you to watch her.”

She started to shake her head, but then stopped herself. I saw her take a very deep breath, let it out, and shut her eyes. “All right…”

“What are you looking at now?” I asked.

“At, um, at my daughter, Gwen.”

“Tell me what she looks like.”

“Well, she, um, she’s tall and cute… her legs are amazing, her smile, her eyes… she’s pretty, and… and she’s sexy.”

“And what is your sexy daughter doing now?”

“She’s masturbating. She’s… she’s naked. I can see her, her long legs, and… and everything…” She was breathing faster as she rubbed herself. “I can see what she’s doing. I’m watching her.”

“What is she doing?”

“She’s rubbing herself, her clit, her pussy. And she’s looking right at me. Gwen is watching me, watching her mom. She wants to see me come.”

Eve was quickly getting close again, her fingers moving rapidly over her clit.

“She’s masturbating for me. My daughter. My sexy daughter. She wants me to watch her. She’s watching me too. She’s fucking herself, and — and — and — GOD!!”

Her climax was incredible. I stopped masturbating so I could simply watch her.

She fell onto her side, moaning, gasping, both hands clutched between her legs. Her eyes were tightly shut, her face contorted with orgasmic passion. I saw her whole body shudder violently, again and again, over and over. It seemed it would never end. With each powerful spasm she uttered a little cry, and then finally, after the longest time, when all her lustful energy was expended and she was beginning at last to calm down, she whispered just one word, “Gwen…”

Now I wanted to come too. I was terribly excited by what I’d just seen, and especially by what it meant. I moved up to lie beside her, kissing and licking her shoulder as I pumped two fingers in and out of my sopping cunt. Within moments I was climaxing.

We fell asleep that way. At some point late in the night, one of us must have reached up to turn off the lamp. But we slept very peacefully and soundly, spooning side by side.

*     *     *

In the morning, Eve and I awoke together, naked and smelling of sex. Loud knocks on the adjoining door had jolted us out of our sleep. “Mom?” “Mommy!”

“Oh shit —” Eve was suddenly panicky, grabbing at the sheet, trying to cover herself.

“Don’t worry,” I chuckled. “You locked the door, remember?”

“Oh, yeah…” she smiled sheepishly. “But anyway, I guess we better let them in.”

I yawned and stretched, pulling myself to a sitting position against the headboard, the top of the sheet barely above my crotch. “Yes, I suppose so.”

Eve was rummaging through her suitcase, trying to find something.

“Mom?!” More loud knocks.

“Just a minute!” Eve called. She yanked out a colorful bathing suit cover-up and quickly pulled it over her head.

She started toward the door, then stopped, looking at me. “Are you… going to…” she motioned, pointing at my nakedness.

I shook my head. “Uh-uh,” I yawned, stretching again.

Eve shook her head, then smiled and shrugged. “Well… okay.”

When she opened the door, all three girls burst in wearing t-shirts and undies. They were chattering about breakfast. But as soon as Gwen and Paige looked over and saw my breasts proudly on display, that stopped them cold.

For Bambi it was nothing, of course. She knew her mom loved being naked. She jumped up on the bed, giving me a big hug. I held her tightly, stroking her thighs and squeezing her little bottom through her panties. Then Bambi gave her mother a long, warm good-morning kiss. It wasn’t exactly a sexual kiss, but it wasn’t exactly not sexual either.

Finally she pulled away. “Mommy, we want breakfast. We’re hungry.”

“You are? We have three hungry girls?” I looked over at the other two, grinning at them.

Paige and Gwen, and Eve too, were staring, slack-jawed, evidently astonished at the kind of affection they were seeing between my daughter and me. Gwen was the first to have a smile cross her face. I think she was beginning to comprehend some things.

Eve cleared her throat. “Okay, well, um, breakfast. What shall we do about breakfast?”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” I said as I climbed out of bed with Bambi, holding her hand.

I smiled inwardly when I saw the effect my appearance was having. The girls were in their panties and t-shirts. Eve was wearing her cover-up. But I was stark naked, and both Gwen’s and Paige’s eyes were fastened on my crotch.

You see, I am totally hairless down there. Every two or three weeks I get a Brazilian wax. Bambi likes me that way, and I do too. I doubt that Eve’s daughters had ever seen a woman who looked like I did. Possibly online, I suppose, but not up close and personal.

I stepped up to the sisters, kissing them each on the cheek. “First, let me say good morning. And then, how about this? Bambi and I will go up to our suite and take a shower and get dressed. I’ll order a nice breakfast buffet for all of us and have it delivered in about an hour. Can you wait that long?”

They nodded mutely.

“The three of you can get dressed or shower or whatever you need to do, and then join us at,” I glanced at the clock, “at, let’s say, 10:00, upstairs for breakfast. But I think you should come with your swimsuits on, ready to go down to the beach after we finish eating, okay?”

“That sounds good to me,” Eve smiled. “Okay with you girls?”

They happily agreed. The plan was set.

Still naked, I called room service and ordered the food. Then I retrieved my silk dress from where it was laying over a chair, slipped it on and stepped into my high-heeled sandals — while making sure Gwen and Paige both noticed that I wore nothing under the dress. I gave them a wink, then Bambi and I left the room and headed for the elevator.

As she pushed the PH button and the door closed, Bambi laughed. “Know what, Mommy? Last night I told Gwen I wanted to learn to kiss like a big girl and I asked her to show me how. So she did, and she showed Paige too. They were kissing each other. We were all kissing. Isn’t that funny?”

It was funny, because Bambi had been kissing girls and women for years and was quite an expert at it. But it was also very arousing to me. On impulse I picked her up and kissed her mouth. She’d put her blouse and her pleated skirt back on, but as I held my little girl, her legs wrapped around my waist, I could feel that she wasn’t wearing any panties.

Like mother, like daughter, I thought, as I lovingly caressed her bare bottom.

The elevator door opened into our suite. I carried Bambi, still in my arms, to the master bedroom, and set her on the bed. Pausing just long enough to whip off my dress, I pushed her down, spread her legs wide apart, and began kissing and licking her beautiful hairless pussy.

I pressed my face into her crotch, licking her and rubbing my lips all around, loving the feel of her smooth, soft skin. I kissed her labia, sucked her clit, and shoved my tongue deep inside her pink vagina, tasting her sweet juices.

Bambi adores it when I eat her that way. She closes her eyes and pinches her little nipples and whispers, “Mommy, Mommy…” And as usual, within only a few minutes I had her coming in my mouth.

There is nothing in the world I love as much as the pussy of a 10-year-old girl. Unless it’s the pussy of a 9-year-old girl or an 8-year-old girl. Or maybe an 11-year-old or a 12-year-old girl. I just love girls, and women too, but especially young girls. And especially my own daughter!

After her climax, and after giving her a minute or so to recover, I told her we needed to take a shower. But then I remembered something I wanted to ask. “Where are those panties you were wearing last night? Did you bring them with you?”

“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. “I gave ‘em to Gwen. She wanted ‘em.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why,” she shrugged, “I mean, it seems like they’d be too small for her.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I was just wondering.” I was pretty sure I knew why Gwen might be interested in having a pair of my daughter’s soiled panties. She was probably smelling them right now.

We got into the shower together. I washed my hair and I washed her hair, and then we lathered each other up, soapy hands running all over our bodies.

As we rinsed under the warm water, I could tell by the way Bambi was touching me and squeezing me that she wanted more, that she was still in the mood for sex — which was not unusual at all for that amazing child. So I turned to her, holding a breast in my hand, pointing the nipple, happily offering it to her.

At 10 years old, my daughter is still about eight inches shorter than me — which puts her cute face almost exactly at the level of my breasts. She started sucking my nipple, sucking it hard, while at the same time climbing onto my leg, pressing herself against me, urgently humping my wet thigh with her pussy. She wanted to come again.

I was getting excited too. I slid down onto the tiled shower floor, leaning against the wall. The water was still cascading over us. Bambi sucked my nipple. I slipped my hand between her legs, my middle finger finding her vagina, sliding easily inside. I fucked my little girl with my finger, hearing her moan and pant as she continued sucking my nipple. With my other hand I started rubbing my clit, but I didn’t have time to get close before she was climaxing again.

And what a wonderful experience that is — to have my daughter’s mouth clamped over my breast, her lips and tongue massaging my erect nipple, while my finger nestles inside her hot little vagina — and as she reaches climax I can feel the muscles of her tiny cunt squeezing my finger, again and again, each spasm accompanied by a girlish squeak of orgasmic ecstasy. I love my precious Bambi so much!

She finally finished, and I hugged her close, kissing her hair, her cheeks, her lips. My clit was throbbing with need, I wanted to come so bad — but time was running short. The others would arrive soon, not to mention our breakfast, and we still had to dry our hair and get dressed.

So, I opted to forgo an orgasm for the time being, deciding it might be fun to be right on the edge all day long with Eve and her daughters.

Continue on to Chapter 6

 

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The Method to My Madness

  • Posted on June 12, 2015 at 11:57 pm

By Cheryl Taggert

Naughty Mommy, JetBoy, and I have decided to share with you our individual processes for how we write our stories. I will also include where I get my ideas, which is more involved than you might think. We each have our own approach to writing, and while I am certain it is very similar for all of us, it is also different as well. For example, JetBoy, as you have read, labors over every paragraph until he likes what he has and then moves on. I am not like that at all, as you will see.

I start, of course, with an idea. I allow the idea to do what I call “ferment” because I liken good writing to good wine. Fermenting involves the idea rolling around in my head for a few days until I feel comfortable with it and where I think it might go. Things have to meld into a whole in which every part contributes to the other parts, and in that manner, I produce a good story, or at least I hope it is good.

Now, these ideas are nothing new. There are just so many ideas one can generate in this field. Face it, our goal is to allow our readers to become sexually stimulated from our stories to the point of relieving any pent-up sexual energy, usually in the form of masturbation, though I am sure there are those who are lucky enough to be in a relationship with someone who shares this fantasy, which greatly increases the methods of achieving an orgasm. Furthermore, we have male and female readers, and it pleases me that I am able to turn on other women. There was a time I thought I was one-of-a-kind, so finding other women exist who share my tastes is liberating.

So, an idea occurs to me and it ferments. Take for instance my current Nanny for a Night series. This is how that one came about: Initially, an online friend asked me to write a story for him in which I babysit and seduce his daughter and niece and eventually include his wife in the fun. Anyway, a year later when I was considering continuing these two chapters as a series for our website, I was thinking how awesome it would be to be self-employed in a job where parents would entrust their little ones to me, and upon having such a job, find that the little girls I watch over are just as interested in me, each other, and themselves as I am in them. (Consent is important in my stories, and I address it openly in Chapter 7 of this series.) My fantasies about the scenario led to some enjoyable alone time, which also allowed me to consider possibilities and how to go about creating something a bit more unique than the standard babysitting story. After some alterations in which the cousins became twin sisters and “an old family friend” became a unique entrepreneur, I posted the re-worked chapters and a series was born.

Personally, I love the idea of the nanny who has an agreement with hotels to sit with children overnight. This was the solution to a problem that plagued me when I first came up with the idea of making this a series. Having a hotel vouch for the main character gives plausibility to the idea of parents trusting the nanny for a night because she comes recommended by the hotel. I saw immediately the usual babysitter format would not work well because most parents would not trust just anyone to take their children from the hotel and keep them overnight. That would be almost inviting a ransom note. I had several ideas about how to “fix” this problem that I discarded quickly because they lacked plausibility almost as much as the “here’s my child even though I don’t know you” scenario did. This is where we as authors must be creative in our approach. One thing I hate, as do the others in our author trio, is a story that isn’t plausible. It is bad writing and a sure sign of an amateur. If I’m reading a submission and come across something that just doesn’t ring true, I am finished reading that story; case closed.

Another thing I do as I write is allow the story to write itself. One situation leads to another, and often my characters take me in a direction not initially intended when I started writing the story. Frequently, it is quite a surprise to me. I know that sounds strange, but it’s true. In fact, this happened with Chapter 8 of the “Nanny” series, and I am still deciding whether or not to allow the story to dictate where things go, or to take up my editing pen and make some changes before allowing the story to continue “writing itself” from there. (It has not been posted as of this writing, so I am letting you travel along with me here as I am writing it without revealing the specific plot development I am considering discarding.) It was odd; I was going one place, and the story, which is a living thing as surely as I am, went somewhere else. That’s why writing to me is sometimes like riding a roller coaster in the dark with only ten feet of track lit enough to see.

Furthermore, the ending of Chapter 6, which has been posted, is not the original ending I wrote. Basically, I had to tell Gina she could not begin her seduction of the girls while the fictional Cheryl was on the balcony with Lynn near the end of the chapter. I’ll let you in on a secret here. In the original ending, Cheryl and Lynn come back into the room to find Gina having sex with her husband while an awestruck and horny Lori watches. They all join in, though the resulting orgy was barely begun in the story, allowing the reader to fill in how it all ended.

I didn’t like this ending to the chapter for a number of reasons. For one thing, it stretched credulity to the breaking point. And while I know there are those out there who are thinking, “YES! Include the husband!” this was one of the things I didn’t like. I included the sex between Gina and her husband in the eavesdropping scene because it was necessary to what was happening. In all honesty, I know very little about the male genitalia, so it makes me nervous to write about it. So this chapter-ending orgy wasn’t necessary, and the way the re-written ending worked out was much better for the story and for me. Finally, one of the measuring sticks I use is whether or not what I’ve written turns me on when I re-read it. The original ending turned me off, mostly because it lacked plausibility, so out it went.

At some point after I finish a story or chapter, I go back and look at it for problems such as typos and grammar mistakes that don’t fit the voice of the story, which even an English/Language Arts teacher like me can make. I usually find them all, but sometimes I don’t and feel real embarrassment when I see something wrong in a posted story I wrote. I also check for continuity and sometimes fail there as well, but I try to do my best. Continuity involves answers to questions like these: Have I somehow changed who is partnered for sex, or did I suddenly move a character from one scenario to another without bridging the events (explaining how she got there)? When I am writing, my mind is moving much faster than my fingers can type, and mistakes are extremely easy to commit, especially when there are multiple partners in a scene. So if you are reading and suddenly the continuity goes awry, please let me know, but do so nicely. Believe me; it’s much easier than you would think to type another character’s name when you have five or six in the scene or story.

Finally, I read the dialogue out loud and ask myself, does it sound like what real people would say and does it sound like something this character would say? Like some of these other easy-to-commit mistakes, stilted dialogue is much easier to write than conversation that sounds authentic. Realism is my goal—in my stories, my dialogue, and even my ideas.

Achieving realism in this genre can be difficult, but it is attainable, and ideas are where that starts. Sometimes my ideas are based on things that happen to me when I am online. For instance, I found a short video interview of a young porn actress who was telling the interviewer that her mom was an actress in the porn industry as well, and that was what got her started in it. I began to wonder what it might have been like to be raised by someone who did that for a living. This gave birth to my Daughter of a Porn Star series. I figured someone like that would have been raised from a very young age in an atmosphere in which sex was natural and open. A mother like that would think nothing of either seeing her young daughter playing with herself, or of having the young daughter walk in on her while she masturbated. This got the first chapter started, and I have plans to continue from where I left off about a year ago. The next chapter isn’t fermenting yet, but it will be soon.

So you see, I am more like a tunnel the story travels through, but I am a tunnel that can change its direction as needed if I see the story driving where I don’t want it to go. I rarely plan my stories or chapters out in advance other than to know the basics. One example is in Chapter 8 of the Nanny series. All I knew when I started it was I would be introducing a permanent character to the story, unlike the hotel guests who come and go never to be heard from again once their episode has ended. (For instance, Chapter 7 is the last we see of Gina, Lynn, and Lori, at least for this series. Life moves on.)

Well, that’s how I write. I hope this has been enlightening or at least slightly interesting. If nothing else, you got a look into how some of these stories originally were before re-writing as well as a hint as to where the Nanny series will be going.

This is already approaching 1,800 words, so I’ll go now. Thank you for reading, not only this blog entry but our stories as well. I can tell you we all work very hard and spend a lot of time writing them. It is a passion and a joy. I would write them anyway, but it’s nice to share them with faithful readers like you! Bye for now!

–Cheryl

 

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Sheila, Bridget, and the Girls, Chapter 4

  • Posted on June 12, 2015 at 3:11 pm

By Naughty Mommy

NOTE: You may find it helpful to use this link for Characters & Relationships.

“We don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, sweetheart.”

“No, I do want to,” protested Fiona. “I mean, I want to, I really do, but… I don’t know, I’m just confused or something.”

“It’s okay.” Bridget kissed the top of the girl’s head as she held her close, stroking her back and her legs. She gently rocked her, murmuring soft words, kissing and comforting.
________

Completely spent, Sheila rolled off her daughter to lie on her back, panting, sweating, licking her lips, still tasting Erin’s pussy. The teenager, also exhausted, crawled alongside her mother and collapsed there, taking her hand. They lay beside each other for several minutes, slowly recovering.
________

Fiona took a deep breath, then let it out as she nestled in closer. She was definitely feeling better now. Being held in Bridget’s arms, so cozy and safe, made everything seem okay. They cuddled for several minutes.
________

After a time, Erin turned onto her side, facing her mom. She rested a hand on her full breast as their breathing gradually calmed. She kissed her mother’s shoulder and snuggled in closer.
________

The girl purred as she felt her aunt kissing the top of her head, her hands gently stroking her hair, her shoulders, her back… it felt good to be touched that way, so comforting and so nice… the woman’s warm hands caressing her, rubbing her back, now rubbing her legs, so relaxing… she had a nice soft touch on her legs, on her thighs, on her bottom… and Bridget smelled so good too, so delicious… it was some kind of sexy perfume that made Fiona want to… to do something… she slowly opened her eyes… and there in front of her face, maybe an inch away, was a long brown nipple… it was her aunt’s perfect breast, waiting for her, reaching out to her… Fiona licked her lips, she smelled the perfume, she felt the touch of the woman’s hands on her bottom, squeezing her bottom, teasing inside the crack… Fiona parted her lips, moved her head slightly forward, and took the nipple into her mouth.

“Oh!” Bridget was momentarily startled. Then she smiled. I guess she must be feeling fine now, she thought, as she resumed petting the girl.

Fiona sucked the hard nipple. It felt so right, so good in her mouth. She loved the taste, the feel, everything. She was very happy.
________

“Mom?”

“Yes, honey?” said Sheila.

“Do you ever think about… um, about Fiona?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, do you think she’s sexy?”

Sheila opened her eyes, turning her head on the pillow to look at Erin. She smiled at her. “Do you think she is?”

Erin grinned sheepishly. “Yeah, I mean, I like all girls. But Fiona’s really cute, and, and, well you know, sometimes I think about her that way.”

“What way?” Sheila asked. She knew very well what Erin meant, but she wanted to hear her say it.

“You know,” Erin giggled. “I think about her sometimes when I play with myself. You know.”

“Yeah, I do.” Sheila smiled, giving her older daughter a squeeze.
________

Gradually, instinctively, Fiona shifted around as she sucked her aunt’s nipple, until she was cradled in the woman’s arms, like a baby. Bridget gazed adoringly at the child, kissed her forehead, stroked her hair, caressed her round little bottom and her smooth thighs. She cooed to her, loving the sensation of having her nipples sucked, loving the feel of a young female body in her arms. She kissed Fiona’s cheek, her forehead, and then, almost without thinking, she slipped her hand between the girl’s legs, cupping her vulva.
________

“But do you, like, do you think about Fiona that way too?”

“What way?”

“Mom — you know what I mean.”

“Okay,” Sheila laughed. “Yes, I do think about her that way. I often think about her when I masturbate. I especially think about her while she’s watching me masturbate.”

“What??” Erin lifted her head to stare at her mother, frowning slightly. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she watches me sometimes. And I’m telling you, it gets me really hot when she does.”
________

When she felt a hand reaching between her legs, Fiona opened her eyes. She let the nipple slip from her mouth.

Bridget was gazing at her. “Is this what you want, baby?” she whispered as her fingers tenderly stroked the girl’s labia. There was some hair there, but not much yet, just a bit of downy auburn fuzz.

Fiona didn’t say anything. She smiled softly and nodded (looking more like a little girl than ever, Bridget thought to herself), then turned her attention back to the erect wet nipple, taking it into her mouth with a contented sigh, closing her eyes and sucking again.
________

“She watches you?” asked Erin.

“Yes, she does. See, honey, sometimes when you’re out and it’s just Fiona and me at home, and if I’m feeling, well, especially horny — then I’ll go in my room and take off all my clothes and start masturbating — but I leave the door wide open so she can see me.”

“Wow, Mom…”

“I don’t think she knows that I know she’s watching. But I really like it. It gets me so hot.”
________

Bridget could feel warm moisture at the bottom of Fiona’s slit. It was dripping out of her. She used the slippery juices to lubricate the girl’s labia, making it easy for her fingers to slide within. She heard the child moan, but her eyes did not open. Bridget gently fondled her, found her little clit, felt the young body tremble as experienced fingers caressed her sex.
________

“It reminds me of, you know, when you caught me,” Erin said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, like, I don’t know if I really wanted you to find me that way, but maybe I actually did. I don’t know.”

“Yes, maybe you did.” Sheila chuckled as she recalled that day. “It wasn’t as if I tried to sneak up on you or anything. I was making enough noise, I think, coming up the stairs, carrying all those packages.”

“I know, but I swear I didn’t hear you. I didn’t hear anything. Remember, I was almost ready to come.”
________

“Mmh, mmph…” Fiona was making urgent noises as her aunt expertly rubbed her pussy. The girl’s mouth was full of nipple, but Bridget knew what the sounds meant. She was getting close. With her thumb stroking Fiona’s clit, Bridget extended her middle finger until she found the opening to her vagina. She probed within. Fiona gasped and squealed, the nipple popping from her mouth.

“You want to come, little baby? You want to come for me?” Bridget rubbed her faster, pushing her finger inside.

And then Fiona was climaxing.
________

“It was so nice watching you, sweetheart, watching you come like that,” Sheila whispered. She turned onto her side, facing her daughter, their noses touching. She caressed her cheek. “You were so beautiful, so sexy, lying on my bed, surrounded by my panties and things.”

“It was kind of embarrassing,” the teenager giggled, “getting caught that way. But you were so nice about it.”

Sheila kissed Erin’s lips.

“And then when you said it made you want to, you know, to masturbate too — and to masturbate with me. God, that was awesome.”

“You certainly didn’t seem to mind,” the woman smiled.

“No, I was happy! I always thought you were hot, Mom, I really did. But I never ever thought you might want to do anything like that with me.”

“Mmm, I’m so glad we did.” Sheila rolled on top of her daughter, kissing her mouth.
________

Fiona was limp in Bridget’s arms. The powerful orgasm had taken everything out of her. She was breathing heavily, her young body flushed. Bridget held her for a moment, just looking at her. Then she raised her own hand to her face, smelling her fingers, enjoying the lovely fragrance of the child’s sex. She licked her middle finger, which was still wet, tasting her juices. Smiling, Bridget bent down and gently kissed her niece on the lips. Fiona stirred, but seemed to be in a trance, if not asleep.

Bridget briefly considered letting Fiona stay with her, spend the whole night in her bed. But if Debby came to her room in the morning, as she often did, and found them naked together, that would not do. So, she carefully picked the girl up and carried her to the spare bedroom.

Fiona roused briefly as Bridget settled her in bed. “Mmh,” she murmured, “did I fall asleep?”

“Yes, and you go right back to sleep now, baby girl, okay?” Bridget whispered as she tenderly kissed the child’s forehead, tucking her in.

“Okay…”

And before Bridget left the room, Fiona was fast asleep.
________

Kissing, thrusting, groaning, licking, grabbing, panting — almost insane with incestuous lust, Sheila made urgent wild love with her teenage daughter for one last time that night. Pushing Erin’s legs wide apart, she placed her hot wet cunt directly on top of the girl’s and began fucking her, pussy to pussy.
________

Bridget stepped inside her daughter’s room for a moment. After letting her eyes adjust to the dark, she tiptoed over to Debby’s bed. The 9-year-old was on her side, her hair arrayed across the pillow. One slim young leg was partly outside the covers. Bridget knelt at the bedside and gently pushed the covers further back so she could see more of the girl’s body. She loved to look at her this way.

Most mothers like to gaze at their sleeping children, of course, but for Bridget it was more, or at least it had become more in the past year or so. Now when she looked at her daughter’s smooth skin, at those slender arms and legs, she felt a sexual thrill. Never had she never told anyone about this and she wasn’t sure she ever would, but to Bridget, a girl of only 8 or 9 years old, like Debby, was the perfect age. So utterly delicious, so desirable. She knew what that meant. There was a word for it. It meant that Bridget was a pedophile, a lesbian pedophile.

As she thought about that word, she began to get aroused. She was still naked, so she simply slid her hand down between her legs and started rubbing her clit. She leaned closer, her face next to the sleeping girl’s body. She let her lips graze the soft skin of the child’s thigh, inhaling her aroma. How wonderful it would be if she could pull down the little one’s panties and look at her, and kiss her, and lick her —

Bridget was quickly getting close, too close. She didn’t want to go all the way, didn’t want to climax in Debby’s bedroom. Reluctantly she got to her feet again, pulled the covers back over her daughter, and then kissed her cheek and went back to her own room, where she climbed naked into bed and masturbated.

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Sheila, Bridget, and the Girls, Chapter 3

  • Posted on June 10, 2015 at 1:00 pm

By Naughty Mommy

NOTE: You may find it helpful to use this link for Characters & Relationships, which you can keep open in a separate tab.

“I like watching her,” said Fiona.

“Your mom?”

“Uh-huh. Sometimes I stand by her door when she’s doing it, you know, masturbating, and I watch her for a long time. Like for 10 or 15 minutes.”

“Okay.”

“Is that wrong?”

“No, I don’t think it is,” Bridget said, rubbing her niece’s hand. They were sitting together in Bridget’s bed. “Especially not if your mother leaves her door wide open like that. As you said, it seems like maybe she wants you to watch her or something.”

“I know, it really does.”

After a short pause, Bridget asked, “Do you think she knows you’re watching her?”

“I don’t think so. I kind of stand to the side, and she almost always has her eyes closed. So, I don’t think so, but… I don’t know, maybe.”

Bridget thought about her sister Sheila, who was Fiona’s mom. At 35, Sheila was four years older than she was. They were close and shared a lot of things, although for whatever reason they hadn’t talked very much about anything as intimate as masturbation since they were quite a bit younger, just teenagers.

“But I like watching her,” Fiona repeated. “It gets me excited.”
________

Lying on her back in bed, the naked woman climaxed again. Sheila’s orgasm lasted a very long time, reaching peak after peak before finally beginning to subside. “Oh my god, oh my god, yes…” she sighed.
________

“After I saw her doing it the first time,” said the 12-year-old, “I decided to try it myself. And now whenever I see her — which is a lot, like maybe every couple days — I go back to my bedroom and then, well, you know.”

“Then you masturbate?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you… are you able to have an orgasm?”

“Yeah, for sure.”

Bridget smiled. Impulsively, she hugged the girl and kissed her head.
________

Sheila slowly opened her eyes and looked down. She always loved seeing Erin’s pretty face between her legs, framed by her red curls. And there she was, grinning, her mouth and her cheeks glistening with her mother’s juices. It was such a thrill to see her that way, a thrill that Sheila thought every mom should be lucky enough to experience.

“Turn around now, baby,” she said. “I want to taste you too.”

Erin giggled joyfully, then shifted her position on the bed until her crotch was next to her mother’s face. Sheila squeezed her breasts and pinched her nipples as she took in the sight of this beautiful sexy young girl — her own daughter! — opening her legs, waiting to be licked.
________

“Bridget?”

“Yes, honey?”

“Would you let me watch you?”

Bridget was stunned. Was Fiona asking what she thought she was asking?

“Um, I…” she stammered, “you… watch me what?”

“You know, the way I watch my mom. I’d really like to watch you too if I can. Would you mind?”
________

For a moment Sheila simply gazed at the 15-year-old girl, at the pale white freckled skin of her bare legs, the patch of curly red pubic hair, the pink distended labia, glistening with her juices. It was all so wonderful, so enticing.

She took a very deep breath, inhaling the luscious fragrance of her daughter’s sex, and smiled to herself, feeling pleased with life. Then she gently pushed the teenager’s thighs wider apart, opened her pussy lips with her fingers, and began licking her clit.
________

Bridget felt an immediate sexual thrill as she pictured herself masturbating in front of this sweet child she held in her arms. But would it be morally right? Of course, the girl’s mother was apparently already doing that, so maybe it wouldn’t be a problem. Still, Bridget thought, I had better tread carefully here.

“Well, I, I don’t know, honey. That’s a very personal thing you’re talking about.”

“I know, but… please? Wouldn’t it be fun?”

Fun? Well, Bridget thought to herself, that’s one word to describe it. Hot, sexy, erotic — those are other words that come to mind.

“Please?”

Then Bridget had a deliciously naughty idea. She gave the girl a squeeze and said, “Okay, Fiona, I guess we can do that. But I’ll tell you what, to make it even more ‘fun’, maybe you should let me watch you too, at the same time.”

“Really?” Fiona pulled away for a moment and looked into her aunt’s eyes.

“Sure, why not?”

“Wow…” Fiona mused. She’d never done anything like that. It actually had not even occurred to her that someone older might want to watch her. “Really?”

“Yes,” Bridget chuckled. “What’s the matter? Don’t you want to?”

The girl took a deep breath. “No, I mean, yeah I do. I really do!”
________

Erin couldn’t believe how good it felt. In all her fantasies, nothing had ever been as amazing as reality turned out to be. The feeling of a woman’s tongue, warm and wet, bathing her sex, tasting her, eating her, sucking her labia and her clit, delving into her vagina — oh my god, it was unbelievable — and she was quickly getting close to an orgasm.

Sheila could sense her daughter’s arousal, could tell how close she was getting. She loved making Erin come in her mouth. She licked her erect clit, swirling her tongue around it, sucking, gently nibbling, then flicking the tip of her tongue over the stiff pink nub. She heard Erin panting, gasping, right on the edge. As she continued to suck on her clit, she eased a finger into the girl’s vagina, so hot inside, so juicy. She pushed the finger in further, reaching, probing, and then Erin was coming.
________

“So,” Bridget began, “do you want to do it now, or —”

“Yes! Right now!” Fiona interrupted. She had turned on the bed and was facing her aunt, her hands on her knees, a huge smile on her face.

“All right,” the older woman chuckled. The girl’s enthusiasm delighted her — and it aroused her too. She looked down at Fiona’s tight t-shirt, at those perky little nipples. She wanted to see her with nothing on.

“I’m gonna take this off, okay?” Bridget lifted the filmy black nightie over her head and dropped it on the floor. Then she pealed off her thong and tossed it aside. She smiled at her niece. “You want to get naked too?”

Fiona didn’t answer. She was staring at Bridget’s breasts. They were so perfect, round and firm, with stiff dark nipples. For a second Fiona actually thought, I want to suck her nipples, but then immediately put that idea away. She knew her aunt was a lesbian of course (and Fiona thought she might be one too), but she told herself that Bridget would never want a little kid like her, just a girl, to do something like that. I’m sure she would prefer another woman, a grownup.

“You want to get naked too?” Bridget repeated.

Fiona blushed when she realized she’d been caught staring. “Oh, yeah, sorry.”

She began pulling up her t-shirt, but then stopped halfway, looking down at her chest. “It’s kind of embarrassing, though,” she mumbled. “I mean, look at you.” Her eyes went to Bridget’s mature breasts. “And I’m nothing.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Bridget reassured her. “You’re beautiful, honey. Now come on, let me see you.”

“Well, okay…” The 12-year-old took a deep breath and lifted her shirt off.
________

The taste of her daughter’s juices in her mouth was heavenly. Even while Erin was climaxing, Sheila had removed her finger from the girl’s vagina and quickly replaced it with her tongue. She wanted to eat her as she came.
________

Bridget stared at her niece, licking her lips as she thrilled at what she was seeing: a lovely young girl, just beginning puberty, her breasts only soft swells, but her nipples already enlarged and puffy. She couldn’t wait to see more. “Take off your undies too.”
________

Erin squeezed her own nipples, groaning with pleasure as she felt her mom’s tongue lapping deep inside her, licking her, sucking her, swallowing her juices. She’d just finished climaxing, but if her mother kept this up for very long, Erin was sure she would come again in her mouth.
________

Fiona dropped her panties to the floor, then quickly covered her crotch with her hands. Why was she suddenly feeling so shy? She liked having her aunt look at her that way. It was… it actually made her feel sexy, even if she couldn’t understand why Bridget would think she was worth looking at.

“So nice,” breathed the older woman as she fondled her own breast with one hand, her other hand sliding between her legs to rub her clit. She was starting to masturbate as she gazed at the naked child.
________

Sheila paused just long enough to swing her leg over so she was straddling her daughter, in a ’69’ position. Slowly she lowered her cunt to Erin’s waiting mouth, and then resumed eating the teen’s wet pussy.
________

Fiona felt her cheeks burning. This was her idea. She was the one who said she wanted to watch Bridget, and she’d been excited when her aunt suggested they do it together, but now… now it seemed like almost too much. To be here on the bed, both nude, looking at each other… she didn’t know if she could really go through with it.

“Are you all right, honey?” Bridget asked.

“Yeah, I, I guess… I just feel, kinda… kinda weird is all…”

Bridget stopped rubbing herself. “What do you mean?”

“It’s like, I mean, you’re so beautiful, and I want to watch you and stuff, but, but…” Tears brimmed in the girl’s eyes.

“Oh, honey, come here.” Bridget gathered the flustered child into her arms, holding her, petting her. “It’s okay, everything’s okay,” she soothed.
________

Mother and daughter were both so totally aroused, so consumed with illicit lesbian lust for each other, that it took almost no time at all until Sheila and Erin were coming simultaneously, locked in a tight embrace, mouth on pussy, mouth on pussy, body against body, in an incestuous orgasmic climax.

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