Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Mommy Janice

Note to the reader:

I was inspired to write this story after reading The Joy of Looking by Naughty Mommy. Her epic story gave me hope that I could put into words my feelings. Naughty Mommy, you are an exceptional writer! I also want to thank my partner, Angie, and Naughty Mommy for their edits.

A little about me:

I am a single mom and college teacher, with grown daughters. This story refers back to a time when I started my teaching career at a small Liberal Arts college in New England. My daughter, Angie, was six at the time.

Please note — This story is fiction, any references to real people is coincidental.

 

Angie, my six-year-old daughter, was sitting on Carol’s lap. It was our first visit to the Mother/Daughter Support Group. Carol was the founder and matriarch. The dozen or so mothers and daughters were sitting in a circle. Most of the daughters were sitting on their mother’s lap. A few were old enough to sit in their own chair.

“Moms and daughters,” Carol said, calling the group to order. The side conversations came to an end. Once the room was quiet, Carol spoke.

“I would like to introduce Angie to you.” She gently stroked Angie’s back and said, “How old are you Angie?”

“Six going on seven,” Angie replied.

“And who is this?” Carol asked her, looking at me.

“That’s my mom, Janice,” she answered.

Carol looked at me and said, “Welcome, Janice. We’re delighted you have come. Please tell us about yourself.”

“Well,” I hesitated, feeling a little shy, “I am new.”

The women in the room giggled. It was obvious I was new. “Angie and I recently moved here. I’ve taken a teaching position at the college and would like to make new friends.”

Carol said, “You came to the right place and we welcome you to our group.”

Carol explained that this was the formal part of the weekly meeting. Moms and daughters would have a chance to share with the group. The first mom to share told the group how her daughter had won the spelling bee. As the sharing went on, moms became more personal. One mother spoke of the difficulty she was having with her daughter’s teacher. As she was speaking, I noticed that one of the little girls, about Angie’s age, began to unbutton her mother’s blouse. Her mother smiled at her, and gave the child a kiss on the forehead. Once unbuttoned, her mother lifted her breast out of her bra and gently brought it to her daughter’s waiting mouth. The girl latched on and began nursing. No one seemed to pay any attention, except me. Carol saw my obvious staring.

Carol said, “It is common for moms to nurse in the group.”

“Does this happen often?” I asked.

“More often than not,” Carol replied, as she gently caressed my daughter’s neck and back. “It is a way for mothers and daughters to become closer.” At that point, Carol leaned over and whispered something in Angie’s ear. Angie smiled and nodded as if to say, ‘yes’.

The nursing mother was serene. Her daughter’s eyes were closed with her hand resting on her mother’s breast. I felt conflicted. It was strange to see a six-year-old nursing, especially in front of others. Yet, watching the mother’s serenity made me ache between my legs. I felt the yearning to breastfeed. I wondered if Angie would like that. It did not take long to find out.

After the formal part, the mothers broke up into small groups and chatted around the punch bowl. The girls went off to play. Carol introduced me to several women, including the nursing mom. Her name was Candice. As she shook my hand, I felt connection with her. I felt a sensual chemistry between us.

“Come with me.” Carol said, taking my hand and leading me to a small anteroom. She sat in a chair. I sat on the couch. “Women who join our group find themselves growing closer to their daughters. They create bonds that last a lifetime. Is that something you might want?”

“What do you mean by growing closer?” I asked.

“Intimate, sensual, loving,” Carol replied. I was afraid to ask how intimate, but wanted to. Just as I was about to get up the courage to ask, Angie entered, came to me, and sat on my lap.

“Angie,” Carol said, “earlier I asked you if you wanted to nurse like the other girl did tonight. Do you remember?”

“Yes,” Angie replied.

“Why don’t you ask your mom if she would like that too?” Carol prompted.

“Mommy, can I? Can I nurse you like the girl did?”

Looking into my daughter’s eyes, I saw her love for me. I was overwhelmed with love for her. A tear welled up in my eye, “Yes darling,” I answered.

I was wearing a loose-fitting sweater. My sweet daughter raised the hem. I raised my arms, and she lifted it over my head, placing it on the couch next to her.

Carol could see it would be difficult for me to get my breast out of the bra. My breasts are small. She came over and said, “Let me help you.” She unfastened the back and gently placed my bra on my sweater.

Angie nuzzled up to my left breast, latched on, and began nursing. Carol whispered in my ear, “She loves you very much.” Carol kissed me on the cheek and left us to our intimacy.

It was pure bliss. I was serene. Angie’s eyes were closed. She was very relaxed, almost asleep. We shared a moment together that I will keep in my heart forever.

When we returned to the group, many of the mothers and daughters had departed. Candice and another mom were standing with Carol. They were listening, almost as if Carol were giving them instructions. They nodded in agreement. Each mom kissed Carol on the lips, then departed.  Only Angie, Carol, and I remained.

“I was pleased to see you and Angie bond tonight.” she said. “Nursing is the first step in your journey. If you allow me, I would like to be your guide. I can help. Is this something you want?”

I did. I wanted it very much. My sex was aching. I was wet. Nursing my six-year-old daughter had kindled a fire in me. I only hoped Angie had the same feelings. “Yes, I do. I want your help.”

“Angie,” Carol asked, “do you want this too? Do you want to become closer to your mommy?” Angie threw her arms around my waist, looked up at me and said, “Mommy, I love you. Yes, I want this too.” Tears welled up as I was overwhelmed with joy.

“I have a test for you two.” Carol said. “Each day, find a special time when Angie can nurse. If you both are willing, come to our next group meeting. It is something you both have to enter into willingly. It cannot be coerced.” Carol leaned forward and kissed me on the lips. Then she kissed Angie on the lips too.

Driving home, I was lost in feelings of love and sensuality. Angie was lovey-dovey, holding my hand, stroking my legs, and begging me to nurse her to sleep, which I did, every night for the next week.

Continue on to Chapter 2