Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By JetBoy

Mind you, Anna wasn’t the first girl I ever dated. In fact, I can’t remember a time in my life when I wasn’t into girls. Even when I was a child of ten, I recall being sexually active with another girl of my age. My mother couldn’t leave us alone for an hour before I had my new friend Cheryl naked, exploring her with my fingers and mouth.

Not that Mom had a problem with that, since she was also gay. She had turned to her friend Sophia for companionship after my so-called father had abandoned us flat when I was four, and the woman she’d always thought of as a friend soon became a lover. Even at that tender age, I could see for myself how much happier Mommy was as a gay woman. She and Sophia didn’t last as a couple, but there were other females to share her heart and her bed — and I adored nearly all of them.

Growing up, I liked some boys as playmates, but the idea of love with a man seemed downright silly to me. Why on earth would I want to kiss a boy, when there were so many pretty girls around to catch my eye in cute shorts and dresses?

By the time I was seven, I’d made it clear to Mom that I too was a lesbian, just like she was. Only I pronounced it “lesbean,” which she thought was utterly adorable. I besieged her with endless questions about how women made love, wanting to know all the most intimate details. And while most girls my age were dreaming of dolls and cute clothes, I wanted more than anything to experience sex for the first time.

So Mom took me into her bed and made love to me on one magical night when I was only nine, just to make me happy. She taught me everything I yearned to know and more. Best of all, she and I were sexually intimate for several years after that.

I adored the special games that Mom and I used to play, where we took off all our clothes and kissed passionately, then spent a long while touching and caressing one another. The first time she lay between my legs to lick my bare slit, it felt so wonderful that I shed tears of joy, happy that my mommy loved me so much.

When she rolled onto her back, parted her thighs and asked me if I would return the favor, I was a little scared. But once I went down on her for the first time, I quickly learned to love eating pussy. Mom showed me what to do, and I got the idea right away. The heat of her cunt, the strange but tantalizing flavor of her juices, the softness of her dark curls as they tickled my nose, the sound of her cries, rising in volume as she came for me — all part of an experience that shaped me for life.

After that night, I was obsessed with making love with my mother. I’d do things like crawl under the kitchen table, burrow beneath her skirt or inside her dressing gown and bury my face in the thick pubic thatch, my tongue emerging to lick. Mom even gave up wearing panties around the house, except when she was having her period — but I didn’t care, I’d go down on her even then. Later, once she’d taught me the pleasures of rimming, I would creep up on Mom from behind and flip up her skirt, then part her beautiful buttocks and bury my face between them, eagerly kissing her asshole.

To me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and I adored her.

People sometimes ask me if having a gay mother made me a lesbian. I always answer, “Yes… and I thank her for it every single day.”

Not long after I turned twenty, my lover Anna and I adopted a little girl of our own, a gorgeous eight-year-old named Leslie. She had the face of a cherub, and golden hair soft as corn silk. We were smitten with her from the start. She was painfully shy at first, the product of an unhappy home torn apart by drugs and alcohol. It was an unimaginable joy to see Leslie open up as she gradually came to trust us, learning how to be a little girl all over again. Her solemn expression became a happy grin, and the sound of her laugh rang like sweet silver bells through our home.

After Leslie got settled in, we evolved into a routine where I would stay home with her during the day while Anna was at work. Our little nymph loved to spend all her waking time naked, and the sight of her running around the house or sprawled in front of the television was bound to have me becoming aroused after awhile. I was constantly masturbating, then all but attacking Anna later at night, my sex drive insatiable. And after day after day of staring at that cute little bottom of hers, or the smooth cleft between her thighs… well, pleasuring myself in the bathroom or impatiently waiting for my lover to get home wasn’t cutting it anymore. I was burning for Leslie, aching to explore lesbian love with my eight-year-old child.

I finally decided to tell my mom about these feelings, pouring my heart out to her in a lengthy phone call. She told me in no uncertain terms that there was nothing wrong with making love to my daughter. Mom reminded me of the sexual delights we had shared, back when I was close to Leslie’s age.

I asked her if, more than twelve years later, she had any regrets about what she had done with me. Mom said that her only wish was that she’d continued to have sex with me even after I began to explore sapphic pleasures with my friends. Then Mom encouraged me once again to fully consummate my love for Leslie. “Believe me, honey,” she murmured, “it’s the nicest thing you can do for your little girl.”

I felt so much love for my mother at that moment that I told her that I was more than willing to renew my sexual relationship with her. In fact, I made a date with Mom for that Friday night, so she and I could share a bottle of wine and enjoy each other’s bodies for the first time in years. She was delighted with the idea, and we ended our chat with whispered declarations of love. I’d never fucked Mom as a grown woman, and thinking about what we might get up to on Friday had me giddy with anticipation.

When I hung up the phone, though, my mind was elsewhere. I was a woman with a mission: to teach Leslie all about love.

First I undressed completely, paused long enough to calm my pounding heart, then padded into the living room where Leslie sat idly watching TV, her body still completely bare.

Her eyes widened when she saw me. “You don’t have any clothes on, Mommy!” she giggled.

“Nope,” I laughed, sitting down next to her, then extending both arms to my little girl. “Want to cuddle with me?”

“Yes!” she cried, quickly squirming into my lap. Mmmm, her naked body felt so incredible against mine…

As Leslie leaned back against me, I caressed her all over. She sighed happily as my fingers explored every inch of her soft skin. I brushed her nipples with my fingertips, thrilling as they stiffened oh so slightly to my touch.

“That feels funny, Mommy!” she cooed. “Do it some more.”

So I did, teasing the pink buds as she hummed contentedly. I began to kiss her neck, then nuzzled my way up to her ear, where I nibbled playfully at her lobe. Growing bolder, I licked around the edge of the ear.

“Oooohh… I like that!” Leslie squealed.

“You like my kisses?” I said softly, my lips touching her ear.

“Yes, Mommy,” she sighed.

“Would you like to kiss me?” I murmured. “I can show you how to kiss the way real lovers do. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Yes,” she said, nodding eagerly, “yes, Mommy. I want to kiss!”

My heart throbbed with excitement. “Turn around, honey,” I breathed. She wriggled around in my lap, facing me.

First I gave her a few silly pecks on the face and neck, making her giggle with delight. Then my arms twined around her body, and I gazed deep into my daughter’s eyes. Leslie went quiet, sensing something big was on the verge of happening. “Now, my little angel,” I whispered, “See how this feels…”

And I kissed her mouth gently, my lips brushing hers. The kiss was soft and sensual, and I allowed it to linger for a long moment. When I slowly drew back, her eyes were wide with wonder. “Did you like that, honey?” I smiled.

“Yes,” Leslie whispered. “Oh, yes. I liked it a lot. C-can you do it some more?”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” I murmured, trying not to give away how incredibly excited I was. “There’s much more to real kissing than that.” I slowly brought my face to hers again, whispering, “Now, do what I do.”

I kissed my baby once more… only this time I allowed the tip of my tongue to glide over her lips. They parted slightly, and I made our kiss a passionate one, sliding my tongue into her little mouth. She hummed with pleasure, her own tongue shyly emerging to meet mine. I increased the intensity of the kiss, my desire rising as Leslie matched my excitement.

Before long, we were kissing like lovers. Her little arms were wrapped around me, clutching my naked body as our mouths slid wetly together.

Finally, reluctantly, I pulled away, gazing at my child. Her face was slightly flushed, and she was breathing hard. “How was that, little one?” I cooed, reaching up to touch her cheek.

“Oh… oh, Mommy,” she mewled, “t-that was good!” She squeezed me tightly, her face buried in my breasts. “Can we kiss like that always? Forever an’ ever?”

I tilted her face up to mine. “We can, sweetheart,” I murmured, “but there are lots of other nice things you and I can do together, even better than kissing.”

“Really?” she squeaked. “Show me, show me!”

“Hold on, little one,” I told her. “There’s just one thing. These things I teach you have to be a secret between you and me. You can’t even tell Mommy Anna about them.” I took her hand. “Can you keep a secret, Leslie? Hmmm?”

She squeezed my hand. “Yes, Mommy, I can. Cross my heart!” She paused, lost in thought. “But how come Mommy Anna can’t know? Aren’t you s’posed to not have secrets from her?” Head tilted to one side, Leslie gave me a quizzical look.

I had to give the kid credit — she was a bright one. Luckily, I’d anticipated that question, and had an answer ready.

“We’ll tell her, honey… but I want it to be a surprise.” I cooed, touching Leslie’s cheek. “I’m going to teach you some wonderful games that grownups play… and soon you’ll be able to play them with me and Mommy Anna.” I smiled. “Won’t that be fun?”

Leslie’s eyes danced with excitement. “Okay, Mommy!” I knew that would work; the little imp adores surprises.

I placed my beautiful child on her feet, then rose from the couch. “Let’s go to the big bedroom, babe.”

Holding hands, we padded naked through the house, upstairs to the room me and Anna share. I lay down on our king-size bed, and a giggling Leslie bounced next to me.

I reached for my daughter, drawing her close. “I showed you how to kiss, honey… and now I’m going to teach you about making love.” My lips were nearly touching hers.

Leslie’s eyes were wide with wonder. “Oh, wow,” she had time to say before I was kissing her again. Her tongue immediately darted into my mouth, and our kiss quickly grew hot and passionate. I was brushing her nipples with my fingers, teasing them.

I allowed my kisses to roam around her lips, giving her gentle love bites. Then I shifted my attention to her neck, nuzzling beneath her chin. She purred contentedly as I kissed the hollow of her throat, then licked a path down to her flat chest. Leslie squirmed gently in my arms, moaning “Oh, Mommy… that feels good.”

When I came to my daughter’s left nipple, I extended my tongue to lightly lick at the pink tip, then sucked it into my mouth. Leslie gasped — and her arms twined around my head, hugging me to her. The beating of the child’s heart seemed to reverberate through her body as if she were a drum. I switched from one nipple to the other, then back again.

But the desire to taste my baby’s vagina was too powerful to resist for long, so I began to kiss my way down Leslie’s body, savoring the delicate scent of her. I paused to lavish attention on her tummy, making her giggle when my tongue darted into her belly button, then continued downward, trailing kisses over the rise of her mound.

And then her delicate pink flower was before me. I reached out to graze the baby-soft slit with a finger, and my daughter’s hips shifted on the bed, a whimper escaping her lips.

Then I was licking her; my tongue gliding over the cleft of Leslie’s sex like a paintbrush. My little girl was moaning wordlessly, her childish body squirming beneath mine. Placing both hands on her thighs, I tilted my head to one side and kissed the moist slit as if it were a mouth, then began to carefully penetrate her with the tip of my tongue.

“Muh-Mommy!” she gasped, Leslie’s body shivering as, for the first time, she understood what it was to be loved like a woman, by a woman. No stiff cock to rip and tear, no male hands to grope and bruise her tender skin. Instead, there was a soft, warm tongue to explore the jewel of my virgin daughter’s sex.

I didn’t know if I could make Leslie come, but I was determined to try — and when I sought out her tiny clitoris and began to tease it with the tip of my tongue, her mewls of pleasure took on a new fervor. Encouraged, I suckled at the pink tip, meanwhile tracing around her vaginal opening with my index finger. Soon, my baby’s body was jerking frantically beneath mine as I carried her to the threshold of ecstasy and beyond.

It was incredible — easily the most thrilling experience I’d known since that first sweet night in my mother’s bed.

Raising my face from between her legs, I licked a moist pathway up Leslie’s body until my lips met hers. She gave me soft, sleepy kisses, her cheeks pinked with pleasure.

“And that, sweetness,” I cooed, touching her button nose, “is how you make love. Did you like it?”

“It was… it was won’erful,” she sighed. “Love you, Mommy.” She gave a gentle yawn.

Reaching for the comforter, I drew it over us both. “You can take a little nap now, honey.”

She nodded and curled into me, already drifting into slumber.

Continue on to Part Two