Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

I still remember.

She and I haven’t talked about this for many years, and in fact we never talked about it much at the time it was happening. We just did it. And oh, am I glad we did. Such wonderful memories……

Our mother and father always had a habit of going out together once a month or so and leaving us at home. When we were little, they would hire a babysitter to watch us, but after Lori — my big sister, four years older — turned twelve, they decided she was sufficiently mature to take care of me on her own for a few hours.

And that’s when it started. The very first time Lori and I were alone together like that, she asked if I wanted to play a game. Of course I said yes. I looked up to her and would gladly do almost anything she suggested.

So, she led me into our parents’ bedroom, then inside their large walk-in closet. She turned off the light. It was pitch black in there, completely dark. I couldn’t see a thing and I wondered what kind of game we were going to play.

“Now let’s take off our clothes,” said Lori.

“What?”

“Come on, silly. Take off your clothes. Let’s get naked, okay? You’re not scared, are you?”

“No, I’m not scared,” I insisted — although secretly I was kind of frightened by the enveloping darkness. “But why are we doing that?”

“Because, like I said, it’s a game. Come on, take off your clothes.”

I still couldn’t see anything, but I could tell from what I heard that my sister was starting to do just that, so I went along. I was already barefoot, and all I had to do was push down my shorts and my Strawberry Shortcake undies, then pull off my pretty flowered top with the eyelet edging, and I was nude.

“Are you ready?” Lori asked.

“I guess.”

“Are you sure you want to play the game?”

“Yeah, I do, but what game is it?”

“It’s a touching game. We touch each other everywhere. That’s why we’re naked, to make it easy. But it’s secret game, okay? You can’t tell anybody. This is a special game, just for me and you.”

Ooh, how wonderful! My adored older sister wanted to play a special game with me, and this would be our very own secret that no one else would know about — I was thrilled by that idea and eager to get started.

“Okay, yeah, let’s play it,” I said.

“Good. So, um…”

I felt her fingers touching my arms, tentatively at first, then her hands sliding more firmly upward. She caressed my neck with one hand as the other rested on my shoulder.

“You touch me too,” said Lori. Her voice sounded oddly husky, a throaty whisper.

I put my hands out in front of me, finding her midriff, her belly, her narrow waist.

“Touch my bottom,” she said. “And, um, and touch me everywhere, okay?”

“Okay.”

I wanted to play the game right, so my small fingers slid around to her rear end, cupping the cheeks, rubbing lightly up and down. Meanwhile, Lori’s hands were exploring my chest, fondling my nipples, then gradually easing lower, one hand reaching behind to caress my bottom, the other on my puffy mound.

As my sister’s finger traced my slit, I felt the strangest fluttering in my tummy, a sensation I’d never experienced before. It was exhilarating, but kind of scary at the same time. I certainly didn’t want to stop what we were doing, however, not in a million years. This was maybe the most exciting thing I’d ever done in my whole life, even better than that tall waterslide at the park.

“Touch me everywhere,” Lori repeated.

I followed her lead. With my pulse racing, I brought one hand around to her front and placed it between her legs. That’s when I felt something weird. Her skin was smooth, she had no hair yet, but she was wet. My fingers encountered a slippery, oily sheen.

“Did you pee?” I asked innocently.

“No, it’s not pee. It’s something else. But um, touch my boobs too.”

“Okay.”

At barely twelve years old, Lori still didn’t have much in the way of breasts, but she sure had a lot more than I did.

I touched her chest. I often saw my sister naked in the bathroom, and I knew she’d started growing boobs during the past year or so, but this was the first time I ever put my hands on them. They felt firm, maybe the size of half an apricot, with a bulging nipple in the center. When I caressed her nipple, Lori suddenly shivered, like she was cold.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said. “But, um, I guess, um, that’s enough of the game for now.”

She stepped back and opened the closet door. “Let’s pick up our stuff. You can get ready for bed. I’m gonna go in my room for a while. I’ve got some things I have to do. I’ll check on you in a little bit, okay?”

Without waiting for a reply, she bundled up her clothes in her arms and rushed from the room. I took my things and went to my own bedroom, where I put on a nightie and brushed my teeth. Although I had no idea at the time, looking back I’m almost certain the reason Lori left me so quickly that night was that she wanted to masturbate. As I said, we never really discussed it. What happened in the closet stayed in the closet.

* * *

The following month…

“Are we gonna play that game again, the closet game?” I asked, the instant the front door closed and our parents were gone.

Lori nodded, her ponytail bouncing. “Yeah. But, um, you didn’t tell anybody, did you? Nobody knows, right?”

“Nuh-uh. I didn’t tell anybody. It’s a secret, you said.”

“That’s right, our special secret, a very special secret just for me and you.”

My big sister beamed at me, then suddenly took my face in her hands and kissed me on the lips. She giggled excitedly, grabbed my hand, and led me off to the darkness of the walk-in closet.

We played the game pretty much the same as the previous time, except it went on a little longer. Our hands were everywhere, roaming all over each other’s naked bodies. I felt that strange jumpy, jittery sensation inside my belly once again, especially when Lori was sliding her fingers up and down on my slit, or when I was doing the same with her. I played with her boobs again, and even though she shivered as before when I fingered the stiff nipples, she let me keep on doing it and didn’t stop me right away. I found the same slippery wetness between my sister’s legs too, but didn’t say anything about it this time. I figured she’d tell me what it was at some point. I definitely didn’t want to say or do anything to make her say the game was finished. I loved playing it!

Lori’s hands felt so nice, sliding all over my skin — touching my face, my neck, my chest, my belly, my bottom — and especially nice when she rubbed between my legs. Oh, I loved that feeling so much and never wanted it to end.

But after maybe fifteen minutes of playing like that, Lori started to make kind of an odd sound, almost like she was crying. She sort of whimpered and sobbed, then suddenly gasped and said, “Okay, um — sorry, but I gotta go now. I have some stuff I have to do. We’ll play again next time, okay?”

She opened the door, grabbed her clothes, and hurried away.

I was left to wonder if maybe I’d done something wrong. Had I made a mistake? Was I not playing right? What could I do to make our game not end so soon?

* * *

Three more times we played that way over the next few months, caressing and stroking and fondling each other in the dark. Each time it seemed to last a bit longer, which made me happy, yet it was never long enough for me. Not nearly long enough. Eventually it would always get to a point where Lori abruptly said she had to leave.

I thought about asking my sister if I should be doing something different, if maybe I wasn’t playing the game right or wasn’t giving her what she wanted. But because it was all such a big secret and we never talked about it outside the closet, I kept those questions to myself.

Shortly before the sixth occasion, I had a birthday and turned nine years old. Maybe that’s what made the difference. I’m not really sure, but anyway, after we got our clothes off that time and started touching one another, Lori said, “Let’s try kissing, okay?”

“Kissing?”

“Yeah, do you want to?”

“Sure, I guess.”

“Have you ever kissed anybody?”

“Not really. I mean, you know, Mom and Dad and stuff like that, but… have you?”

“Yeah, one time. I was at my friend Amber’s house and we tried some kissing. I liked it. Let’s do it now, okay? You and me.”

“Okay.”

She put her arms around me and drew me close. Being three and half years older, Lori was almost a foot taller than me at the time. I stood on my tiptoes. I sensed her bending over slightly, and then our mouths came together.

Mmm, so nice, my sister’s lips on mine, full and soft and warm. Her skin felt hot and sweaty as she pulled me tightly against her. She was breathing fast, almost panting, clearly excited by what we were doing.

This was all very new to me, but I liked it a lot. It felt great. I didn’t know anything about kissing, though, so I was surprised when I felt her tongue probing at my lips.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Open your mouth.”

“What?”

“Open your mouth. That’s how we have to kiss, with our tongues touching.”

“Really?? That sounds gross.”

“I know, but that’s how grownups do it. Come on, just try it, I think you’ll like it.”

“Well… okay.”

It felt weird at first, but after I got over the strangeness, she was right, I did like it. Correction, I loved it. What a discovery, that something so bizarre and alien to me could suddenly become my favorite thing to do. I never wanted to stop kissing Lori that way, feeling her tongue in my mouth, her soft lips sliding around on mine, her hands pulling me close, caressing me, her breath warm on my face. I could have stayed that way forever.

We didn’t stay that way forever, obviously. After a few minutes, we stopped kissing and went back to our standard game of touching one another everywhere.

Then I got a bright idea.

“Can’t we do both?” I asked.

“Do what both?”

“You know, kissing and touching, but both together.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I guess we could do that. You want to?”

“Yeah.”

“All right.”

* * *

And that became our new way of playing.

Once a month or so, each time our parents would go out and leave us alone at night, my sister and I shut ourselves inside the walk-in closet, took off all our clothes, and spent maybe thirty or forty minutes making out in the dark, kissing wetly while also rubbing each other all over at the same time — hands and fingers going everywhere, fondling nipples, squeezing butt cheeks, but mainly stroking between our legs.

It was clear we both enjoyed that part the most, the delicious feel of fingers gliding up and down on the smooth skin of our ‘cunnies’. I’d learned that new word by then, taught to me by Lori, of course.

There was something else new too. I was getting wet, my little slit becoming lubricated just like Lori’s. We still hadn’t talked about it at all, but when it started to happen with me as well, I realized it must be connected in some way with the excitement of what we were doing.

All that wonderful kissing seemed to have triggered it for me. Before, when we were merely touching, it had felt sort of like an exercise, a task I was trying to perform the right way. But now I forgot all about doing things right, and lost myself in the steamy delirium of making out with my big sister. I was truly becoming aroused, sexually aroused, for the first time in my life.

Lori was too, naturally, and that’s apparently why these heated sessions of ours only lasted thirty or forty minutes. She would grow more and more excited — and then all at once break things off, rushing away to the privacy of her own room. It was so frustrating!

At only nine years old, I had yet to discover the joys of masturbation. I really knew next to nothing about sex. This was in the days before we had the Internet, when information about carnal activities was not so readily available, and there certainly was no sex education in the fourth grade at our school.

I was in many ways an innocent, naive, clueless little girl. So, I had to just endure the painful loneliness of separation, along with that aching heaviness in my center, unaware that there was a remedy as close as my fingertips.

* * *

“This is our anniversary,” said Lori.

“It is?”

My sister and I were naked in the closet again, standing close, holding one another tight. We’d just finished a long, wet kiss.

“Uh-huh, it was exactly a year ago today that we did this for the first time.”

“Really?”

I wasn’t sure about the precise date of the initial occasion, but I realized that we’d started playing the game just after Lori turned twelve — and this was our first opportunity to be alone together since her thirteenth birthday, so perhaps she was right.

“Yeah,” she continued, “and like, um, to celebrate, I wanna try something new, okay?”

“Okay, sure, but what?”

“Well, instead of standing up, let’s lay down on the floor this time. We can still kiss and touch and everything, but just do it that way.”

Wow, what a great idea! Why hadn’t I thought of that?

But then something occurred to me.

“What if Mom and Dad come home early?” I asked. “And what if we don’t hear ‘em, and they find us in here?”

“Don’t worry, they won’t come home early. They never have, right? They like being away from us. Don’t worry about it.”

It was true that our parents always stayed out fairly late, usually until at least 10:30 or 11:00. And because our sessions didn’t last very long — certainly not long enough to satisfy me — we invariably finished what we were doing hours before they arrived back home.

So, it was probably safe to try this new thing. And maybe, just maybe, it would make Lori not want to go away so soon, leaving me all alone.

“Okay,” I nodded, though she couldn’t see that in the dark.

“Um… wait a sec, I have an idea,” said my sister.

The closet door sprang open and she ran out, returning a moment later with the comforter from her bed.

“We can lay on this,” she said, spreading it on the floor, then closing the door, plunging us again into blackness.

We started out lying side by side. As we kissed and caressed and groped, however, Lori soon ended up on top of me.

It was an incredible feeling. I felt dominated in a way, with my sister’s tongue probing aggressively in my mouth, and especially with her body, so much larger than mine, taller and heavier, pressing down on me, covering me — I felt taken, possessed, totally under her control — and I absolutely loved it.

That night I experienced humping for the first time. I didn’t know what it was called, of course, but I relished the feel of Lori undulating on top of me, rhythmically pressing her warm naked body against mine. I tried to make myself available, spreading my thin legs wide, being as open as I could to whatever she wanted and needed.

There was an ebb and flow too, that was different from before. We would build the intensity — panting, moaning, grasping, clutching — and then ease off, slow down, settle into an unhurried, gentle pace that would gradually grow again to a fever pitch before receding once more.

Maybe the best thing of all was that our session lasted so much longer this time. Lori didn’t seem to feel such an urgent need to get up and leave as she had on previous occasions. I don’t know how long it went on, but at least an hour, or even more, it was hard to tell. We lay in the darkness, kissing and humping, and I lost all sense of time.

Finally, after one of our hot and heavy peaks had passed, and we were just tenderly touching, lightly kissing, Lori whispered, “Happy Anniversary.”

“Thanks. You too.”

Then we got up and went to our own rooms.

* * *

Several more times this was repeated. It was basically the same thing again, each time roughly a month apart, though of course these weren’t anniversaries. Now it was just our newest way of playing in the closet.

During our fourth or fifth session of doing it while lying down on the floor, something new happened, something very special.

It was not long before I turned ten years old, and I remember thinking at the time that I was actually starting to grow up. I’d found that my body was changing, my nipples no longer tiny flat disks, but slowly enlarging and becoming puffy, the little bulges clearly noticeable whenever I wore a tight shirt. It made me proud. I loved looking at myself naked in the full-length mirror in my room, admiring my lovely nipples, imagining the beautiful big boobs I might have someday.

Anyway, after we got our clothes off that night and were reclining on the comforter, with Lori on top, and after we’d kissed and humped and fondled for ten minutes or so, she did something she hadn’t done before.

Our standard position was that I would lie with my legs spread apart and she would be between them, rubbing against me as we kissed. We were pussy to pussy most of the time, doing what I now know is called ‘tribbing’, though neither of us were familiar with that term then. On this occasion, however, she moved slightly to the side, until she was straddling my thigh.

Lori’s cunny felt hot and wet on my leg. She shoved it hard against me, and a shudder of arousal passed through her. Then she began sliding slowly up and down. She put her mouth over mine, kissing me with renewed intensity. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her body close, welcoming her tongue and teasing it with my own.

Her thrusts on my thigh quickly became faster and faster, almost frantic, out of control. She was panting like an animal, making odd little squeaking sounds. I wasn’t sure exactly what this all meant, but it certainly was new.

Then all at once she slowed down. She broke the kiss and said, “No, I need, um — put your — put your hand there.”

Lori grabbed me by the wrist, placing my hand between her legs, right where she wanted it.

By this time, at thirteen and a half, my sister had some pubic hair, not a lot, but some, and she hadn’t shaved it (most girls didn’t do that back then). I felt the sticky wetness, the matted curly hairs. Then I felt her pressing harder, pushing my fingers between her lips — inside them, where she was even hotter and wetter.

This was something we had never done before. Prior to this, our genital touching was always on the outside. But now my fingers were inside her cunny, not in her vagina, but within the furrow, feeling the moist gooey softness, the tender smooth perfection of her virgin sex.

“Hold, um — hold your hand right there,” she instructed.

I couldn’t find my voice, so I simply nodded in the dark, which accomplished nothing. But that didn’t matter. Lori didn’t wait for a reply. She began humping my hand. She didn’t kiss me again, though. It seemed she wanted to concentrate everything on that intimate connection between my hand and her cunny.

She slid up and down. And it was just amazing — she was so wet and so hot. I never knew anything could feel like that. What a discovery! It was at that moment, in fact, that I suddenly realized I might be able to do something like this for myself, rub my fingers between my own legs the same way, between my lips, whenever I wanted to. I’d finally stumbled, in a roundabout way, on the concept of masturbation.

I tucked that thought away for later and focused on the present. I was touching my sister’s cunny, her wet, juicy cunny. It was almost like we were having sex. Were we having sex? Was this more than just a game?

Again my thoughts were pushed aside — forced aside, because Lori was reaching a fever peak. She humped my fingers, up and down, up and down, faster and faster, and I heard her saying, “Yes — yes — just — unh — unh! — unh! — UNHH!! Mmmmmmmmm…”

It was an orgasm, the first one she’d ever had with me, I think, though very likely not the first one she’d had in her life. My guess is that she’d been masturbating to climax for some time by this point, though I can’t say for sure. We never talked about these things, and we still don’t. What happened between me and my sister in the closet was special, very secret and very private, just for us.

Continue on to Part Two