Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

I got up to go downstairs, but Lily held onto my arm like a terrier. I smiled down at her. “I am The Babysitter.” I peeled her arm off me. “I have to go and see your mother out the door. It’s what we do.” I kissed the top of her head, then jumped back to avoid her renewed clutches. I grinned at her triumphantly and she stuck her tongue out.

“Wait, I’m coming down!” I called, and swung out the door.

Mrs. Claire was adjusting her hair in the mirror by the front door. “There is quiche in the refrigerator, and some chicken,” as she fluffed. “Oh, and a coconut cream pie. Have it all, I would eat far too much of it.”

“We’ll be fine, Mrs. Claire.” I now stood before her at the door.

“Oh please, call me Josette.” And she turned to face me.

“Oh, you look beautiful!”

“It’s very sweet of you,” and turned to the mirror again.” She smoothed the side of her dress, and studied her image.

“No, really, I mean it. You are gorgeous.”

At that, she smiled briefly, in her harried way. “Are the earrings too much?” They were dangling, and pearl. All I could do was shake my head in awe.

I don’t usually gush, but this woman’s transformation was extraordinary. She wore a purple one- shoulder dress that was made of some amazingly diaphanous material. I saw what Lily meant about her mother’s fascination with silk. This wasn’t silk, but something that transcended even that lush fabric. It shimmered, at once opaque and translucent, covering and showing.

My astonishment seemed to unnerve her after a bit. She made a little side pose for me. “Is okay?”

I clapped, twice. “Okay, no. Amazing, magnificent, sexy as hell, yes, absolutely.”

Her eyebrows rose, and I thought maybe I’d overstepped myself. Then she blushed, and laughed. “Sexy as hell? Well, a world-famous athlete says an old lady is sexy as hell!” She chuckled, still coloring. It looked well under her dark amber flip. “I’m doing well!”

I laughed too, more in relief, and touched her arm. “Oh right, old lady! What are you, like, 34? 35?”

She lowered her head and looked at me from under a brow. “How about 43?”

“SHUT UP!”

It startled her somewhat, and she stared at me, unsure.

“No, it’s. . . I meant ‘No Way’, it’s just . . .” I grimaced.

“Shut? Up?” She seemed to like that. “Means ‘No Way’ ?” She looked in the mirror and pointed at herself. “Shut Up!” She smiled back at me, satisfied. “I am really bad, my English sometimes, eeuu. . .especially idioms. I remember when I first came here, I heard someone say, “don’t have a cow,” and I thought, oh mon dieu, whatever could they mean??”

We laughed. An image of what Lily had told me just a few moments before flashed, and I had to catch my breath. Mrs. Claire, or Josette, was quite a lot lovelier right now than I remembered, or even ten minutes before, when she’d greeted me in her robe. There was something of the Audrey Hepburn in her look, but more rounded, less severe, and warmer, more vulnerable.

We stood looking at each other for a short time. Then she reached out and ran a hand down my arm. “Thank you so, so much for watching Lily. It’s very important to her.” As she spoke, I heard little feet on the stairs. “And to me. To us. Thank you.” She patted my arm.

A little voice said, “Kiss her good-bye, Mama!”

Josette rolled her eyes at me, but blushed all the same.

Lily persisted, leaning over the balustrade. “Kiss her, kiss her!”

And with a resigned smile, Josette leaned in and kissed my cheek. Briefly, but softly. I smelled a very light perfume. Really lovely. In my ear, she whispered, “She has missed you very much. She pretends to not, but I know.”

“Me, too,” I murmured. I glanced up at Lily, who seemed very interested in this.

Josette opened the door. “As I said, maybe 2:00? Or 3? But you brought your, your necessaries? Your overnight things?”

“Yes, I did, it’s no problem.”

Josette looked up at Lily, who threw a kiss. Her mother caught it and pretended to put it in her little reticule. To me she said, “I don’t know how long we will last, really. A Progressif Dinner, what is that?? But, Jacques’ bosses, so it must be done!”

The telephone rang.

Josette threw up her hands. “There, you see? Always!” And she almost ran back to the kitchen to get it.

I looked up at Lily, leaning over the balustrade. “Guess what?”

“What?”

She turned around and yanked down her shorts to her thighs. Stage whisper: “That’s what!”

“No fair. . .” I looked from her toward the kitchen. I heard Mrs. Claire talking, but couldn’t get what she said. Her tone seemed very nice, loud, accommodating, assuring. . .

I motioned to Lily as her mother returned. “Well! THAT. . . was your mother!”

I inanely pointed to myself. “MY mother?”

She nodded, somewhat amused by the evening’s absurdities. “She was in a rush, unlike me, I suppose – and so she had no time to talk to you, but apparently — your sister Lisa is back from Camp –”

“But Lisa’s not supposed to be back until Thursday!”

“Yes, but your mother said they, er, “extended” for two weeks, which meant that she wouldn’t see you –”

“Oh, no!”

“Yes, BUT, let me finish, BUT. . . Lisa has a day free, so your father drove her down so she could be with you –”

I looked at Lily, whose face wore an almost comic frown of despair.

“And so. . . I said to bring her over, she can have sleepover with you both, yes?” And she grinned at what she perceived to be her own brilliance.

Lily and I both just stared at her, then at each other, then back at Mrs. Claire, who repeated, “Yes?” She looked at me, suddenly unsure. “It’s okay?”

I nodded, slowly, hopefully. I could almost hear Lily’s little motor-brain buzzing away. And she burst out, “Yes! We can play and play and play! Come ON, Lisa!”

Her mother nodded, decisive. “I told Lois to put Lisa’s things in a case, and to come over when she could. And now,” she grabbed her own bag and keys, “I must fly! Adieu!” And she was out the door.

Lily started running down the stairs, patter-patter-patter, and I put a hand out. “Wait!”

Patter-stop.

“Wait ’til the car starts and goes.” She stayed in freeze position, like a Bugs Bunny outline on a wall. I smiled and heard the car leave. Lily eyed me like a well-trained puppy, not moving, until I said, “Okay, good girl!” And I opened my arms. She jumped.

Into what fit so well, so perfectly, as she pressed herself, her hot little crotch, right into my midsection, right under my heart; wrapped her legs ’round my back and her arms around my neck, and kissed my neck, my jaw, my ears, all over. As she kiss-kiss-kiss-kissed me, she made little mewling noises. I drank her in, smelling her heat, and fondling her busy little bottom.

Suddenly, she stopped and grabbed my face. Her face was red, and she stared into me with those big beautiful eyes. “Ohh, I want to be naked with you!” She said it almost angrily. “Kiss me like you did when I was telling you about Mommy.” And, still holding my face, she pressed her soft lips to mine, and allowed my tongue to open her up. I ran my tongue along her perfect little teeth, and felt her own small tongue respond.

She quickly broke away, leaning back. “Oh, I like this kissing!” And she dove back in, opening to my questing tongue. I felt her hips move, gyrating against me.

It felt like hours. But it wasn’t, and this time it was me breaking off. That lovely little rope of spit between us. Lily grinned, and tried to follow it back into my mouth like a strand of spaghetti.

“Wait.”

Pout. “Whaaat?”

I patted her butt. “We don’t know how long we have. Right?”

Pouting. “Right. . .” She idly poked my breast. She smiled. “Like a sponge.”

I gave her bottom cheeks a hard squeeze. “Listen, Missy Square Pants, we have to figure out what we’re going to do.”

“Squeeze my bottom again.”

“Lily!”

“I know, I know!!” She sighed dramatically and fell backwards in her double-jointed way, then popped back. “I know. “Cause I don’t really know Lisa that well. ‘Cause she’s always away at school. . .”

“And I hardly ever see her either, and she’s my sister –”

“Even though you’re like, fifty years older than her.”

“Ten.” I touched a finger to her nose. “I’m ten years older.” I carried her to the couch in the living room. “Hop down, hopalong.”

“Can I lie on your lap? Please?”

“We have to figure out –”

“I know, I know, I will! Please?? I won’t . . . I’ll be good.”

I patted my thigh. “Okay. Knock yourself out.”

She grinned, then stretched her small form across my lap, her bottom right at hand. She hummed innocently. “Just pet me like I’m your kitty, my bottom is your little kitty. ‘Kay?”

“Okay.” I idly patted her bum, which rose slightly to meet me. That polar fleece, so soft. . .  but Lisa might be here any minute, what to do. . . “And you, little girl, aren’t that much older than her, you know.”

“Ha! I am twelve, she is eight.” Her butt tightened with indignation. “I am a girl, she is a baby.”

I chuckled. “You are eleven –”

“Twelve next month –”

“And Lisa is nine.” I massaged Lily’s bottom thoughtfully. “But you’re right, I haven’t seen her since she was eight, God, last summer.”

Lily murmured into the cushion, “That’s when I saw her too.” She glanced back, and added pointedly, “when I was eleven, then, too.” Then she wriggled off my lap to kneel next to me. “But, I want to play with you,” she said in a very little-girl voice. She stroked my thigh, then leaned her head against my shoulder. “I want to so, so much,” and her voice got even smaller.

I tipped her face up, and saw that her eyes had welled up. I kissed her on the lips softly. “I know, honey.”

“I’ve wanted to play with you for so, so long, and here you are, but now. . .” She breathed a big-girl sigh.

“Lisa will probably be really tired. Maybe she’ll just go to sleep.”

“But she left her Camp just to see you.” She nuzzled my neck. “I’D leave my camp just to see you.” She kissed my neck, then muttered, “even though I never WENT to a stupid camp. . .”

I stroked her hair. “Well. . . we’ll just play it by ear, and maybe we can get some time by ourselves later tonight. . .”

Lily lat back on the couch and let her hair be stroked. “Yeah, just in time for Mommy and Daddy to come home. And Daddy will be drunk. . .”

“Hey.” I picked her up and slung her over my shoulder.

“Hey!”

I headed to the stairs.”We’re alone NOW. At least I can see if you’re a LITTLE clean. Right?” We had gotten to her room. I tossed her on the bed.

“RIGHT!” She was flushed and laughing. Immediately she stood on the bed and peeled off her shorts and blouse, and stood naked but for socks. She was grinning.

“Better get into clean check position! We don’t have much time!”

With a squeal, she jumped down onto her knees, like on a trampoline, and thrust her bare bottom up for my perusal. She was giggling. I glanced towards her bedroom door, which was open, in case of doorbell sounds. This was CRAZY! But Oh, so delicious.

“Make sure I’m clean!” Lily was holding her bottom open for me. As before — those years before – her little anus was pink and delicate-looking. But now it also had grown a dark little ring around it, with just the tiniest of little bumps in it. And the anus itself seemed more muscular, somehow.

And also, rather than the dewy sheen of a recent bath, there was a musky wetness, of sweat, and excitement–

“Look, remember?? My bottom wants to kiss you again!” And indeed, stirringly, Lily was making her little asshole open and close, expand and contract. . .

PFFFt!

“I pooted!” Lily laughed, a belly-laugh in her position. Which produced another PprrRRP! I watched the fart erupt from her, her anus dilating widely with the gas release. Oh my little angel!

“Well, how can I resist that?” And I opened my mouth and pressed into Lily’s asshole, kissing, licking, smelling, tasting. . .I felt the muscle resist at first, spasming as she giggled wildly, then relaxing more and opening to my tongue. Her little voice in the bedcovers started cooing “oh!”, in various tones.

I remembered our situation, and stopped. A tiny interrogatory sound from the bed. I turned Lily over, and she smiled at the memory. “Make me clean inside!” she whispered, and pulled her knees wide open, socks still on.

I looked down at Lily, my beautiful little lover. She looked at me smiling, trusting, her legs spread wide, her bare little crack glistening. God, she smelled so good – such a strong smell of Lily’s lust – of little-girl musk, of salt, pee, spice – Lily.

“Mmm, I want you to taste yourself in me. . Scooch over,” and I brought one of her legs down so I could lie by her side. The other leg was still out, knee bent and wide. Now I lay with her face inches away. I smoothed my hand over her lithe tummy, and just looked down at her. Such beauty.

She stared back at me, her lips slightly parted. A blush had suffused her whole upper body, from ears to belly. Her smooth skin felt so hot under my hand. I kissed her lips.

My hand ran down her belly, down her upper thigh, and back to her swollen pussy lips.

She watched my hand, then looked up at me again. “I love you, Louisa.”

“I love you, too, Lily.” I caressed her slick little vulva. “Let’s kiss, okay?”

She nodded happily, and her arms went around my neck as I leaned down and we began to kiss deeply. At the same time, my fingers began frigging her hot little twat, sliding around and around, her lips between my fingers, her clit rubbed and rubbed – my fingers sliding in, in, almost too deep. . . then out, around, around. All the while, we kissed and kissed, she squeaked and moaned and murmured and fluttered. . .

And soon her moans and murmurings became more urgent, and her hips rose and shook. Her little legs were almost split backwards on themselves, they were so open, and every so often, a finger would sink into her pulsing asshole, and she would pant into my mouth.

And then it was like she was absolutely astonished at the pleasure she was feeling – that it was almost too too much for her, and she began to cry at the same time she came – weeping, shaking, making little girl noises, and holding onto me tight, tight, tight as I masturbated her.

We lay in each others’ arms for quite a few minutes, just breathing. Then Lily rose onto her elbows beside me. “Now I want to see you naked.”

That’s when the doorbell rang.

Continue on to Chapter 4