Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cheryl Taggert 

“It’s going to be a rough night,” the captain said. “Better tie everything down that isn’t already. Big storm’s a-brewin’.”

The three-masted cargo ship sailed on its way to Australia and New Guinea with its load of goods being exported from America to those far-off island nations. The weather, however, could turn a good trip into a bad one much too quickly. As the captain of this vessel, John Stephenson had seen many bad storms try to claim him, but so far he’d survived them all.

The storm that could be easily seen to the west of their ship, however, gave him feelings of dread he’d last experienced when dealing with the typhoon of 1851. He’d barely survived that one. He hoped he would survive this one as well.

He also worried about his four paying guests. They were two women with their young daughters, and this was the first ocean voyage for all of them. He hoped they had more bravery and pluck than he thought.

~~

Mrs. Beverly Lexington was on her way from California to Australia to visit her late husband’s family and allow them to see their granddaughter for the first time. She had managed passage on a cargo ship, and the Midnight Star was one of the most reliable and comfortable ships to be found in San Francisco’s harbor, at least comfortable for a cargo ship. It was a beautiful vessel, over a hundred feet long, and the men who sailed it were some of the best sailors in the world, or at least that’s what others had told her. She wasn’t an expert on ships or their crews. This was the first ship she had sailed on in her life. Having been born in 1839, she had only recently turned twenty-seven, and she had only her nine-year-old daughter, Karen, now that Bert had passed. She had no real family of her own anymore, so the trip to see Bert’s parents seemed the best idea of a number of choices. Perhaps she would settle in Australia and raise Karen there.

The captain had given Beverly the warning about the storm moments before, and the panic that had risen in her threatened to choke her. A storm? It had to be a big one for the captain to tell her this. They had encountered what she thought of as a big storm their second night out from San Francisco, and the captain had said nothing about that one, either in advance or afterwards.

She could see the worry in the captain’s eyes now, however, and that worry magnified itself a hundredfold in Beverly’s thoughts.

“Karen!” she called, moving toward the stern of the boat, where she’d last seen her daughter playing with Susan, the daughter of Mrs. Sharon Hopkins, who had also paid for passage to Australia “to escape a gorilla” she had said. Without being told, Beverly knew Mr. Hopkins had been the gorilla his wife was escaping.

Beverly found she really liked Sharon, who was very pretty and sweet, with long dark hair and eyes the color of milk chocolate. The beautiful woman still sported a healing bruise below her left eye, the only blemish on an otherwise perfect face. The contusion was usually well-hidden by makeup, and Beverly only knew about it because she and Karen shared the cabin with Sharon and Susan. They were also nearly the same age, with Mrs. Hopkins not quite two years older.

Beverly almost ran into Karen as her daughter turned a corner and stopped just short of colliding with her mother. Susan was right behind Karen. Beverly liked the young girl whom her daughter had befriended on the voyage. For one thing, Susan gave Karen a playmate for the long weeks stuck on the ship. Not only that, but Susan was a bit mature for an eleven-year-old, and even Beverly enjoyed talking with her.

She was also glad Karen had a playmate that was just a bit older because it would help Karen mature as well.

“What is it, Mother?” Karen asked, seeing the fright in Beverly’s eyes.

Beverly pointed to the southwest, where dark clouds gathered as if preparing for war. “A storm is coming,” she said. “A really big one. The captain advised me and Susan’s mother to tie everything down that wasn’t already tied down.”

Karen, getting the wrong idea, said, “Are you going to tie me down?” Oddly, the child seemed eager for that to happen. At first, Beverly was shocked at the child’s words until she realized it most certainly had nothing to do with sex. She was only nine, and the thought that the girl had any inkling of the adult meaning of her words was ludicrous.

“No, silly, we must go to our room and do what the captain said and not come out until the storm is over. We’ll just lie in our beds, praying.”

After they had completed the task the captain had requested, they did exactly that.

The storm, which was one of the worst typhoons in nearly a decade, struck the ship with all its fury. Waves crashed over the sides, washing the deck of any loose items that may have escaped being taken in or tied down.

Captain Stephenson steered the ship into the waves to make capsizing less likely, but he was worried that this still might be a fruitless effort. Waves that were much taller than the masts buffeted the ship about like a toy.

Sharon looked at Beverly and the two girls. Fear painted their faces as they did their best to hold tightly to their beds to prevent them from being tossed about like rag dolls. She was more used to danger, having lived with what could only be described as a maniac for twelve years, since she had been only sixteen.

Christopher had been extremely domineering, treating her more like his whore than his wife. The only good thing was that he’d taught her how to live off the land, mostly because he himself had to avoid arrest for the many crimes he had committed, which dictated they camp more than live in a home somewhere, and of course, Christopher had no intention of doing any of the physical labor involved in setting up camp, finding food, or building a fire from nothing. She had learned she was a survivor in more ways than one.

Of course, her survival skills she’d learned reluctantly from the monster she now considered her ex-husband, despite the fact they’d never legally married, didn’t stave off anything like seasickness. All of them lost what little they had in their stomachs within fifteen minutes of the storm’s arrival.

By the time the captain’s order to abandon ship came, they were bruised from being thrown about. The two women and their daughters somehow managed to make it to a lifeboat. The storm was nearly past them now, but the captain had serious doubts that the ship would stay afloat more than another thirty minutes at best. It had been seriously damaged and was taking on water fast.

The seas had calmed from the worst of the onslaught, and the lifeboats would be able to navigate the rough waters without being capsized.

The captain, seeing to their safety, looked around his crew for a likely sailor to row the boat and prevent it from being overturned. He saw Jack, a lead deckhand who had been on the sea for over twenty years. He wasn’t the most pleasant sort, but he was an able seaman, despite his appearance. Jack could only be described as skinny, but he had an amazing amount of strength and stamina for a man built as he was.

The women and girls, along with Jack, set out on the first lifeboat lowered. The other men went about the business of gathering any necessary or helpful equipment they could before leaving the sinking vessel themselves. The plan had been for all lifeboats to remain together until the storm passed completely and plans for rescue could be made, but the sea seemed to desire that this would not happen. Jack, whose lifeboat had been lowered a full fifteen minutes before the next boat had been dropped, could only head south on the lifeboat he was in charge of, and the others seemed only able to row their boats northeast.

Two hours later, they were free from the effects of the storm. Wispy gray clouds and a stiff breeze were all that remained, and the wind was growing weaker by the minute it seemed.

Beverly looked around, casting her gaze over the calmer sea to see if she could spot another lifeboat.

But all she could see was water. There was no trace of any of the others who had abandoned ship.

Now, survival was all that mattered.

That and keeping the deckhand, Jack, at a distance. He seemed to be quite thrilled at the prospect of spending time away from the restraints society placed on men like him with two beautiful women and two prepubescent girls.

As Beverly stared at the miles of water, she could feel the terror form a ball in her chest. They were alone on an ocean larger than America. Survival may seem all that mattered, but it certainly looked in doubt. She somehow managed to stop the tears from coming. She knew she couldn’t let Karen or Susan see her fear. She looked at Sharon and noticed the set jaw of determination. She didn’t know what devils the woman had survived, but whatever they had been, they seemed to have prepared her for the danger they now faced. Beverly gained confidence looking at Sharon’s resolute features.

Darkness came and they spent the night floating aimlessly with the tide. Jack had said it was no use rowing if they weren’t able to see anything in the darkness, lit only by starlight since the moon had set in the early evening.

Jack turned his attentions to his lust as the night grew older and decided to make his first move on Karen. He quietly moved to her side and placed his hand over her mouth and nose to prevent her from screaming. The others were asleep, as it was well after midnight. Jack had spent the evening thinking of the soft flesh within arms reach. Karen was the youngest and most likely to do what he said because she would know her life was in danger if she alerted the others.

He snuggled closer to her, and even in the dim starlight he could see her eyes wide with fright.

“Make no sound or warnin’,” he whispered. “If you do, my knife will end up in your gut.”

Karen could feel her heart pounding in her chest so hard that she feared it would burst through her ribs.

“If you understand and promise not to do anything that would wake them, nod,” he said, and she nodded. She could smell the man’s putrid breath as he spoke.

She felt his hand move to her privates and begin caressing her slit after slipping his rough hand inside her panties, which were the only things she wore beneath her simple cotton nightgown. She had discovered touching that spot could feel good when she was alone in bed, but this did not feel good at all. This felt like being robbed by a madman.

The man’s touches made her want to scream, but she managed to hold it in for fear he would stab her.

Then she felt something that felt a lot like a knife. She could tell he was pushing his finger inside her, and it hurt.

Again, she held off the scream that seemed intent on escaping her throat.

Then she could feel the man doing something with his own trousers and pulling them down. She detected a rhythmic shaking and wondered what the man was doing to himself. She had accidentally walked in on her father in the bathroom one time and knew what a man looked like ‘down there,’ but she could not decide what in the world the man was doing. It seemed as if he might be touching his thing in some way, but she wasn’t sure how. She knew how girls could make themselves feel good, but had no idea how boys or men did since they looked so… different.

Then she was feeling something warm and sticky splatter against her leg. She stifled yet another scream, but it was the man’s own moans that gave him away.

Suddenly, Sharon was awake and screaming at the man, who was now doing his best to fend off the woman’s fists.

“You bastard! Leave her alone!” she yelled.

This woke the others, of course, and soon both Beverly and Sharon were pummeling the man.

Karen, now sobbing, scrambled away from Jack when her mother moved towards the fray. Susan held her friend, and the girls sobbed in fright as the fight continued. Wild thoughts of what would happen if the man won the fight sent both girls into a near panic. They understood that if their mothers lost this battle, he would kill both women and only Satan himself would know what would happen to the girls.

The fight continued for several minutes. In the course of the battle, Jack managed to grab Sharon’s nightgown, the only garment of any kind she now had with her, and rip it off.

Naked now, Sharon continued to pummel Jack and scream at him, as did Beverly. Jack had dropped the flimsy cloth of the nightgown into the ocean.

Beverly noticed the man’s knife in its sheath, which was tied to him by a belt. Reaching for it while Sharon continued to hit Jack, Beverly managed to remove the blade from its cocoon, and without thinking she plunged the knife into him, not caring whether or not she killed him.

A loud “Ooomph!” was all they heard from Jack, and he lay back in the lifeboat, blood spurting from his aorta.

He was dead seconds later.

Beverly dropped the knife and heard it clatter against the boat’s hull before she sat beside the girls and began weeping herself, the danger of what they’d just done only now occurring to her in all its horror. Sharon sat beside her new friend and did her best to comfort her.

“Don’t worry. You were saving us all. He’d have killed us if we hadn’t managed to kill him first.”

The weeping continued until all were cried out, like limp, wet rags that were now spread along the hull of the lifeboat. Sharon stood and managed to push the dead man’s body overboard.

“We need to start rowing,” Sharon said. “Daylight is coming.”

Beverly and the girls looked around them as if they had not been aware of their dire circumstances. The sun was just below the eastern horizon, and they could see well enough now to move the boat along. They needed to find shelter and food or they would die at the hands of cruel nature instead of the hands of Jack.

They spotted land, a hazy shadow in the distance, soon after the sun rose that first day. They celebrated their good fortune and rowed the lifeboat in its direction, hoping it was inhabited by friendly people. It didn’t appear to be a large island, but it was land, and the women hoped that there would be safety there.

Sharon and Beverly took turns rowing the boat, with Sharon taking a longer shift because she had more physical strength. The girls said they would be willing to row, but the women thought the currents were too strong for the little girls to be able to battle successfully to keep the small boat steered toward the island, which was now noticeably closer.

Around midday they beached the lifeboat on the shore of the island, which was actually the largest of several of a small archipelago. The other islands were tiny and obviously uninhabited. None of them knew where they were, only that they were somewhere in the South Pacific Ocean between San Francisco and Australia. One thing they did know, and that was they would have to get used to the blazing sun. They were all quite sunburned now, with Sharon’s being the worst since she was naked.

They sat in the shade of some trees and rested until the sun was not so glaring. They had discovered a large, leather pouch in the storage compartment of the lifeboat, and were thankful to find several gallons of water and dried meat inside, along with several other tools, including a hatchet, another knife, and a whetstone. They weren’t used to such fare for meals, but they enjoyed what scant portions they ate as if it were a Christmas feast. They carefully stored the remaining meat and water in case it took time to find fresh water and food on the island, which appeared to be uninhabited except for them.

Also inside the pouch was a cream that was good for sunburn. Sharon put the cream on most of her body before asking her daughter to apply it to her back. The sting of the burn dulled shortly after the cream had been applied. There were several bottles of the cream, and Beverly and the two children applied some on their faces, arms, and feet where the sunburn for them was the worst.

As they sat in the shade, Beverly had little to do but worry. How would they survive? What would they eat? What if they were unable to find fresh water? They had salt water that stretched endlessly, but they couldn’t drink that. She even began to wonder if perhaps dying at Jack’s hands may not have been a better fate in that their deaths would have at least been quick. The death she was staring at now was a slow and painful one. Nature would be unsympathetic, and the torture that would precede their deaths would be far worse than anything Jack could have inflicted.

Finally, Beverly decided if she continued to sit there and contemplate their situation she would go insane. She rose suddenly and said, “You three stay here and see if you can make some shelter. I’ll go see if I can find signs of civilization, or at least human life. I’ll also see if there’s any food and a supply of fresh water around.” She walked deeper into the trees and bushes of the small jungle that surrounded them.

“Don’t get lost!” Karen shouted after her mother, sounding truly worried.

Beverly turned and said, “It’s a very small island. I don’t think I could get lost if I tried.”

About ninety minutes later, Beverly returned. “I see no evidence of any other people on the island.”

“So we’re… stuck here?” Karen asked, panic beginning to rise in her chest and speaking before Beverly could finish her report of her findings, many of them having helped her to relax.

“I’m afraid so. At least for now,” Beverly said.

Sharon interrupted Karen’s thoughts before they could plunge into panic. “Don’t worry. We’ll survive. It will be fun sleeping under the stars.”

The two young girls exchanged a glance indicating to each other they weren’t so sure about that.

Just as Beverly was about to fill everyone in on what she’d found on the island, she noticed what the other three had accomplished during her absence. Sharon, with the girls’ help in gathering materials available in the nearby jungle, had built a rather well-constructed lean-to for shelter while Beverly was out exploring the island. It would not be good enough for permanent shelter, but it was sturdy enough for them to use for a week or two while they tried to construct something better and more permanent.

Beverly looked at Sharon in astonishment. “Where did you learn to do that?” she asked.

“Do what?” Sharon asked then turned her gaze to the lean-to. “Oh, that? It’s easy if you know what you’re doing.”

Beverly stared at Sharon. “So, where did you learn to… ?” Her question died on her lips she was so shocked the woman was able to construct such a solid-looking temporary shelter so quickly.

“My ex-husband insisted I learn how to survive off the land. He –” Sharon stopped and looked at Susan, but the girls seemed preoccupied in a quiet conversation. Sharon heard Susan mention her father and figured she was filling Karen in on their lives with the man both of them were running away from. “He was always on the run from the law, so we spent many weeks — months even — living outside in campsites I had to build and maintain.”

“He didn’t build them?” Beverly asked, astounded a man would make a woman do the physical labor necessary to survive in the wild while he did nothing — if that’s what had happened.

“No,” Sharon said. “He never lifted a finger to help.”

“He was that bad a husband?” Beverly asked, her jaw slack with disbelief.

Sharon thought about it for a second before replying, choosing to look at the distant horizon instead of her new friend when she did. “No. He was worse. Much worse.”

“I’m so sorry,” Beverly said. “You said he would hit you, but I had no idea he would not even do something so simple as help out, especially if he was the reason you had to ‘live off the land,’ as you say.”

Sharon approached Beverly, and as she did Beverly noticed the woman’s figure for the first time. Well, at least for the first time that caused a stirring in her loins.

“He did more than beat me. He made me his slave. I was required to do his bidding at any time. He made sure I knew how to survive when even the most basic of needs were not available. That’s why I know we’ll be fine. I know how to survive in situations like these. So nobody need worry about that. We’ll be fine. We’ll eat. We’ll drink. We’ll survive.”

“I almost forgot!” Beverly said. “There’s a stream that flows from a small mountain near the center of the island. It’s fresh water!”

Sharon smiled. “See? I told you not to worry. I know how to trap animals, and I’ve noticed quite a few just around our little encampment. I can also fashion a fishnet to catch fish to eat.”

Beverly smiled for the first time in a long time, it seemed, which made her forget to tell what else she saw on her short excursion. Adding to her forgetfulness, she had noticed Sharon on the ship when she would prepare for bed. They were all females, and while nudity wasn’t commonplace exactly, it was not avoided when it was necessary. She had found herself daydreaming about the attractive woman, and her daydreams were rather naughty, to say the least. She had forced herself to stop thinking of the woman in that way as she lay in bed with her daughter. Otherwise, she would have never been able to get to sleep on those nights with the desire that was moistening her pubic area until she forced her thoughts elsewhere.

She had enjoyed a brief dalliance with a girlfriend when she was an adolescent, but she thought she had outgrown that. The friend had taught her the most wonderful things she could do to herself, and she had been a lifelong devotee to such self-provided pleasures.

She had even frequently given herself pleasures during her marriage, though she never let her husband know about how she loved to touch herself. The truth was that Beverly was a highly sexual woman. Since Bert’s death, she’d been forced to relieve her sexual tension by herself in bed at night, nearly every night in fact. She had stopped recently only because she had to share her bed with her daughter and her bedroom with another woman and the woman’s daughter. She had hoped to meet another man in Australia, but that would have to be put on hold for the time being — maybe forever.

It seemed now that survival wasn’t at the forefront of her thoughts, her sexual appetite had returned. And as she continued to consider Sharon’s beautiful body, she realized she would need to be alone soon.

That thought frightened her and she felt a blush creep into her cheeks. She could not imagine herself going without sex with a partner for years. Looking at Sharon, she wondered how sexual the woman was and if these same thoughts had invaded her mind as well.

Sharon suddenly became aware of her nudity. She felt Beverly’s eyes on her body and, embarrassed, suddenly began to cry. Beverly moved to sit beside her to soothe her, putting an arm around her and holding the woman’s head to her shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon said. “I’m being silly. It’s just that I feel so… awkward. I’m sitting here as naked as the day I was born, and the three of you are in your nightgowns. It makes me feel as if I don’t deserve clothing, or something.”

“No, please, Sharon,” Beverly began. Then a thought occurred to her. She didn’t think the girls would mind.

“I know! Let’s all go naked! I’ve heard of people who live their lives in total nudity. We can just do that until we are rescued.”

Sharon looked at Beverly and was about to protest when she heard giggles from the girls, who stood and immediately began to strip off their gowns. In a matter of seconds, they both stood with arms and legs outstretched, forming human X’s and showing off their naked bodies.

“But –” Sharon began, but silenced herself as Beverly stood to disrobe.

Sharon had noticed the beautiful woman and wondered if she ever liked to have fun in bed with other women. She had never acted on the fantasy she had of having sex with a beautiful woman, but now that fantasy took charge. She could feel a moisture and tingling in her vagina as she watched Beverly becoming naked.

The woman’s breasts were lovely, capped by pink nipples as big around as a plum. She noticed the flesh of her nipples stiffen as they came into view. It was hardly cold, not even the slightest bit cool, and there was nearly no wind at all. Sharon wondered if perhaps Beverly was thinking the same things she was.

Glancing down at her own breasts, she saw that she was also showing evidence that she was sexually excited. Her brown nipples were like small twigs protruding from the chocolate colored, cherry-size areola.

When she looked back at Beverly, she could tell that the woman had noticed her checking herself. Beverly instantly checked her own nipples and saw the evidence there. She felt the girls would not know what the erect nipples indicated, but she knew that Sharon knew.

Their eyes met and they each knew what the other had been thinking. Beverly felt her mouth go dry, and not only from thirst. She suddenly wanted to renew the joys she had experienced with her friend when she was thirteen. The friend with whom she had enjoyed her first orgasms — orgasms her friend had taught her how to achieve.

Even her first kiss had been with her friend and not with a boy.

Beverly needed to affirm life by experiencing that joy again. And based on the condition of Sharon’s nipples, Beverly felt the other woman was feeling the same way.

Beverly looked at Karen and Susan. The girls were openly admiring the naked bodies of the two women. Susan was especially interested in Beverly’s nude form.

Beverly realized that even if Sharon were interested in her sexually, it might be difficult to get away from the girls long enough to enjoy themselves.

She sat beside Sharon and exchanged a knowing look with the beautiful woman once again, her eyes darting to the woman’s erect nipples before returning to Sharon’s similar gaze, which verified that they were thinking the same thing, which was, “Yes, I want to, but how will we do that with the girls around?” Beverly had never been so sure of another person’s thoughts in her life.

“Well,” Sharon said, breaking the spell without eliminating the desire. “Now that the question of what we should wear has been settled, I say we move along to the question of food.”

“Oh!” Beverly said, her eyes widening as she remembered what she’d not mentioned yet. “I forgot to tell you what else I found on the island! When I was exploring, I saw a lot of fruit trees and coconut trees. There appear to be plenty of mangoes, bananas, oranges and such,” Beverly said. “If you go several hundred feet into the forest there,” she said, pointing, “you will find a grove with various fruit trees.” Beverly looked at the girls, but then she looked at Sharon as she said to the girls, “Why don’t you two girls go gather some for us? You can’t miss it. Just walk in a straight line into the trees.”

The girls howled in joy and bounced up and down to celebrate this news. Meanwhile, Sharon knew this had been designed to allow them a moment without the nine- and eleven-year-old girls present. She decided to broach the taboo subject. Here they were, two young, beautiful women without a man in sight. They had normal desires, despite what men would expect of a proper “lady,” and Sharon knew that seeing to those desires could get quite tricky in their situation, whether alone or with a partner.

After the girls had walked carefully into the jungle, stepping carefully with their bare feet, Sharon looked at Beverly and said, “I may end up embarrassing myself beyond being able to ever look you in the face again, but… did you and I just, well, feel something between us?”

Beverly knew exactly what her friend meant. Their eyes had said what their mouths couldn’t. She blushed deeply and looked at the ground. “Should I be ashamed?” she asked.

“Of course not. We’re two healthy women. Men may think we never feel desires like the ones they feel, but I, for one, feel them deeply,” Sharon said, reaching to touch Beverly on the shoulder to ease her embarrassment.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Beverly said. “Since Bert died I’ve… well, I’ve done things. To myself, I mean. I often imagine he’s still alive, that he’s the one touching me. I have to admit those weren’t the first times I had done that.”

“Have you ever… done anything with another woman?”

“You won’t hate me?” Beverly asked.

“Of course not.”

“I’ve not done it with another woman, exactly. It was with a friend of mine when I was about thirteen. We would, well, touch each other and, um, touch ourselves. We had our first sexual peaks with each other,” Beverly said, glancing at Sharon to make sure she had not been repulsed by the confession.

Sharon gave her own confession. “I’ve never been with another girl or woman, but I’ve thought about it many times, usually while touching myself.”

“I have to wonder how long we will be stranded here. It could be for a very long time,” Beverly said, her heart pounding a fast rhythm against her ribs as she wondered if they might actually do something sexual together. She longed to touch Sharon intimately, to feel that physical closeness with another human being.

“I was wondering the same thing,” Sharon said. “And –” She stopped short of making the suggestion both women wanted.

“And?” Beverly asked, prodding Sharon to continue her thought to the end.

“And I wondered what it would be like if we… well… you know. Did things together instead of alone.”

“It won’t be easy with the girls around,” Beverly said.

“But you want to?” Sharon asked.

Just at that moment, Karen and Susan burst from the trees, their arms loaded with fruit.

Beverly looked at Sharon and whispered, “Definitely. But we’ll have to be careful.”

Continue on to Chapter 2