Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Cheryl Taggert 

The women and their daughters had been on the island for a week, and their lives had settled into a basic routine. Each morning, they gathered fruit for meals, and after breakfast, they would explore areas of the island they hadn’t had the chance to see.

They were hoping to be rescued, so they had also managed to start a fire using a magnifying glass they’d found in the pouch from the life boat. At the time they found it, the others had wondered what use it would be until Sharon demonstrated why the instrument had been included.

They made sure the fire was kept away from the treeline and above the ocean’s high tide. They didn’t fancy a forest fire, nor did they wish to be forced into starting another fire.

Sharon also taught the girls how to build traps for some of the small animals that inhabited the island. Not only that, but she had also managed to construct some spears and a crude but workable bow for arrows, using the tools found in the leather pouch.

She had almost finished creating some arrows, using the hatchet to chop down some thin trees and shaving the wood down to thin, fairly straight shafts, to which she attached feathers that had molted from some of the many birds on the island. They weren’t perfect, but they would have to do. She had used the whetstone to sharpen small rocks into tips, which she would tie to the ends of the shafts. Practice in using them would be important.

The girls were busy weaving a fish net from pliable vines, another skill Sharon had taught them. Every day they would show how much of the net they’d completed, and their mothers were quite proud.

As they sat for their evening meal, Beverly glanced for the thousandth time at Sharon. Something would have to be done about their need for privacy. They all slept under the lean-to — a more permanent shelter being in the planning stages — and any large movements would wake one or both of the girls, so getting together for some adult fun was not going to happen, it seemed. She had listened to Sharon masturbating the night before, long after the girls had gone to sleep. The woman’s movements had been so slight and so quiet that it had taken Beverly a while before she figured out what was happening. Sharon’s peak had involved strong breathing, nothing more, though she knew the woman wanted to shriek her climax to the night sky.

After Sharon had finished and Beverly allowed enough time to pass for the other woman to fall asleep, she decided to chance masturbating for herself. She was certainly excited enough. Her slit was a soaking mess.

Still, she hadn’t reached her peak because in the middle of her self-pleasuring, Karen had awakened.

The girl had whispered, “Mommy? Are you okay?”

Beverly had stopped immediately and said, “Yes, honey. I think I was dreaming.”

Her daughter had gone back to sleep, but Beverly could no longer attempt to bring herself to orgasm. She had lain there for what seemed like hours, trying to sleep. She had finally managed to drift off, and her dreams had been sexual in nature and involved Sharon and the girl she’d known when she herself was young.

She had awakened with an itching need in her mound and an awareness that the memory and dreams had excited her beyond tolerance, a realization that was frightening. She had been an adult in her dreams, as she was now, but the girl had been as she remembered her, firmly involved with puberty. In her dream she and Sharon had enjoyed sex with the young girl, as if the girl had been an adult and not still a child.

She had never felt these particular stirrings before in which an imagined sexual partner had been a child. Was she a pedophile? The dreams had been very erotic and had seemed quite real to her sleeping mind. In her dreams she had experienced no guilt, just pleasure.

Now, she sat beside Sharon and their daughters. For the first time, Beverly had taken a long look at the girls’ mounds of private flesh. Did they get excited sexually? She remembered she had felt twinges long before discovering a way to satisfy the urges those twinges brought on. How old had she been? Six? Seven? It had certainly been around that time of her life when she had noticed the wonderful feelings that were brought about by accidental touches and pressure on her mound.

Now she looked at Karen, her daughter. Had she felt those stirrings already? She was nine, at least two years older than Beverly had been the first time she noticed the private tingles that sprouted inside her.

And what about last night? Had Karen been awake long enough to realize her mother was rubbing her own mound? Because of what Jack had done to her, Karen was certainly aware that adults enjoyed such things.

She decided it was time for a confrontation. She realized she would not be able to continue like this, wanting sex with Sharon but never having the time away from the girls to enjoy it.

Beverly looked again at Sharon and the woman returned the look with raised brows, as if to say, ‘What?’ Beverly wasn’t aware of what kind of look she was giving Sharon, but it had obviously created puzzlement in the beautiful woman.

Now she looked at their daughters.

“Girls, we need to talk about some things,” she began. Glancing at Sharon, she said, “Adult things.”

“Beverly, I don’t think –” Sharon said, but Beverly interrupted her protest.

“I do think!” Beverly said, her need causing her to sound angry.

Sharon sat where she was, silent and stunned.

Beverly took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. It’s just that something must be done, and the only way for that to happen is if we tell the girls the facts of life.” She continued to look meaningfully at Sharon and continued. “I was awake last night.”

Sharon blushed before looking at the girls and back at Beverly.

“Okay. I guess you’re right.”

“Girls, Sharon and I are adults, and, well, adults have certain… needs.”

Both girls furrowed their brows, wondering what this would lead to.

“Needs?” Susan asked.

“Yes, dear. Physical needs,” Beverly said.

Susan’s expression showed she had an inkling about what this was about, but Karen still looked perplexed.

“What kind of physical needs?” Karen asked. “Naps?”

Beverly smiled, but Susan answered the girl’s question.

“She’s talking about sex.”

Karen turned red with embarrassment and said, “Oh.”

“You see,” Beverly continued, “sex is a basic human need. It’s more than just physical, it’s about closeness and tenderness and, well, happiness.”

“I want you to be happy,” Karen said to her mother.

“Yes, dear, I know you do, but you see, sex involves more than one person usually, and –”

“What do you mean ‘usually’?” Karen asked, interrupting her mother.

“Well,” Beverly said, blushing deeply, “a man or a woman can, um, give themselves sexual pleasure and satisfaction through what’s called masturbation.” She realized her daughter would ask what masturbation was, so she continued. “Masturbation is touching yourself in a sexual way to make your body feel good. It involves touching your vagina and your breasts and other things that feel good in a sexual way to achieve what is called an orgasm.”

Susan spoke up. “You mean like my mom last night?”

Shocked by the revelation that Susan had been aware her mother was masturbating the night before, the two women looked at Susan, their eyes wide, staring.

“You… knew?” Sharon asked.

“Sure,” Susan said. “I woke up and heard you breathing kind of funny, so I listened to find out if you were awake or asleep and maybe having a nightmare, but then I heard that sticky sound of your hand touching yourself… down there.”

“How do you know about that ‘sticky sound’?” Sharon asked.

Susan blushed. “Well, I’ve… uh… sort of… watched you do it.”

Sharon was both shocked and angry at having her privacy invaded like that. “You… watched me? Masturbating?”

Susan nodded. “I’m sorry, Mommy! I walked in on you and you didn’t notice, so I sneaked back out of the room and, well, I watched. I was just curious.”

Sharon eased her emotions enough to say, “Can I ask you something?”

“What?” Susan said.

“Why were you so curious about what I do in private?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to see what you were doing. It’s not like I hadn’t touched myself before too, you know.”

“Oh, dear Lord! You’ve masturbated?” Sharon asked.

“Yeah, but I don’t have whatever that is that happens when you finish. I heard you last night and it was like some kind of explosion or something, and it’s real obvious you like it. But it just feels nice to me. I never have done that explosion thing.”

Beverly had been watching the exchange between Sharon and Susan and hadn’t noticed her own daughter. Now she looked at her and saw that the girl was looking at her mound and running her fingers up and down her slit, experimenting with the feeling.

Sharon heard Beverly gasp slightly and looked at her before following the woman’s gaze to see Karen masturbating right there in front of them.

“Karen?” Beverly said.

The girl looked up at her mother. “I was just touching it. I’ve made it feel nice before, too, but there’s not any kind of explosion.”

Susan giggled. “See? Not only grown-ups do that. Even Karen does it, and she’s only nine.”

Beverly realized the conversation had turned to something she hadn’t intended. She took a deep breath, but before she could continue, Sharon spoke up.

“It seems we all need to take some time to understand each other and our needs. I think it would be a good time to get everything out in the open, which is what you were intending, wasn’t it, Beverly?” she said.

Sharon was right, and Beverly recalled that just that morning she had wondered if her daughter felt anything sexual in her vagina.

“Yes, I suppose that’s right.” Beverly looked at the two girls. Karen had stopped masturbating, at least, so Beverly was more able to continue with this important conversation. “Are you two girls willing to discuss your experiences as it regards sex?”

The girls looked at one another before looking back at Beverly and nodding. Susan added, “I guess so. As long as I’m not in trouble.”

“You’re not. We just, well, we just weren’t prepared for this… revelation.” Beverly said. Looking at her daughter, she asked, “How long have you known about the special feelings touching yourself there can bring you?”

“A couple years, I guess. That was the first thing I noticed when that man started touching me there. When I touch it, it feels good, but when he touched it, it didn’t. In fact, it hurt.”

Beverly said, “You never told me he caused you physical pain down there.” She began to worry that the man had done damage to her daughter’s hymen.

“I was scared,” Karen said.

“Is there any pain there now?”

“No.”

“Did you bleed any after he touched you?” Beverly continued asking questions to determine the extent of the physical damage Jack may have inflicted.

“A little. Is that bad?”

“No, dear,” Beverly said. “It’s not bad, but I think he may have torn your hymen.”

“What’s a hymen?” Karen asked.

“It’s a small amount of tissue at the entrance to your vagina, the sleeve of flesh that babies come through,” Beverly said. She had already told Karen where babies came from.

“Do I need to see a doctor about it?” Karen asked. “We don’t have a doctor here.”

“No, honey, but if you don’t mind, I would like to inspect your vagina to see if everything is okay there.”

Karen blushed, but she stood up and went to her mom, saying, “Okay.”

“Lie down,” Beverly instructed her.

When Karen was lying on her back, Beverly got on her knees so she could look at her daughter’s vulva and the area where her hymen should be.

Reaching out, she spread her daughter’s labia. The first thing she noticed was that the little girl’s clitoris was slightly enlarged, though still no larger than a small seed, and a small amount of vaginal fluid was coating her inner labia. She knew that at age nine, Karen wouldn’t be producing much in the way of lubricating secretions, but this amount surprised her.

As she began exploring the inner recesses of her daughter’s mound, she made contact with Karen’s clitoris. This caused the little girl to jump, as if pricked by a needle. It dawned on Beverly that her little girl was sexually excited. She marveled that several minutes after stopping her rudimentary masturbation, Karen was still sensitive enough to react to a slight touch on her little bump.

“Karen?”

“Yes, Mommy?”

“Did it feel nice when I touched you where I did?”

Karen blushed and nodded.

Beverly remembered her dream as she realized she, too, was sexually excited.

Her daughter’s mons reminded her of Jessica’s, the girl her age that she’d experimented sexually with as a young girl. Beverly had a sudden urge to lean down and kiss her daughter’s clitoris and labia. She was sweating now, and her desires nearly took over. She glanced at Sharon to see what she knew would be disapproving looks, but she found the woman’s gaze to be totally different from an admonition to her to stop what she was doing before things went too far.

Sharon was sweating as well. Her hands were casually caressing her torso, avoiding her nipples and vaginal mound, but the touches she was giving herself were sexual nonetheless.

Beverly looked at Susan, and she seemed to be in a trance. She was staring at Karen’s mound and sweating as well. Her hands were rubbing up and down her thighs. Like her mother, the caresses avoided the most important areas, but they were extremely sexual. Erotic, in fact.

Sharon spoke, and her voice was soft and husky sounding. “You’ve not checked her hymen.”

“No, I haven’t,” Beverly said, then added, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing here?”

“You mean the swelling? The moisture?”

Beverly swallowed. “Yes.”

“Yes, I see it,” Sharon said needlessly. Beverly noticed that Sharon’s breathing had increased, becoming a quicker pace than normal.

She looked again at Susan. She noticed that every third stroke or so of her thighs, Susan would make quick contact with her mound, swiping a finger at her slit while trying to be secretive about the action. The three of them were enjoying this much more than she ever thought they might. All three of them were getting very excited, the sexual atmosphere was palpable. She looked back at Karen. No, she corrected herself. All four of them were excited.

Beverly’s hand was still holding Karen’s labia open to allow them all to see the wet interior of her most private body part. She looked back at Sharon, whose eyelids were now half-closed in lust.

She made eye contact with Sharon and then did the same with Susan. Making a decision, Beverly said to them, “Go ahead. It’s alright. There’s nobody here to object and nobody to tell anyone about it.”

“Are you sure?” Sharon gasped.

“Of course I am,” Beverly said. “It’s not as if your daughter doesn’t know you do it. She’s watched you.” Beverly looked at Susan. “She’s emulated you, seeking that wild and wonderful explosion between her thighs.”

Sharon moved her roving hands to her nipples, pinching them before letting her right hand trail down to her hair-covered slit. Two fingers spread the wet labia before scissoring the clitoris, pinching it firmly.

Susan, at first unaware of what Beverly had been talking about, realized the woman was saying it was okay to masturbate, to touch themselves in the most private way. She followed her mother’s lead, hoping to find that magical explosion by doing what her mother did.

Beverly realized she could just as easily lick and kiss Susan’s mound as well.

Doubt and fear filled her for a moment. This would mean she was indeed a pedophile. There was no way around that fact. She was getting erotically excited while inspecting her daughter’s mound, and Sharon and Susan were watching and masturbating. She knew that, given enough time, Sharon would reach her climax. Since Beverly planned to have one or two orgasms herself before this little activity ended, she would make sure her explorations of Karen’s vulva lasted long enough for Sharon to fulfill her desires.

Leaning down and peering into the open mons, she spread the lips wider to afford her a look at her daughter’s vagina itself. She could see that indeed the hymen was partially torn. She looked up over her daughter’s belly to Karen’s eyes, which were intently watching what her mother was doing, with an occasional glance toward Sharon and Susan, who were openly masturbating.

Taking her thumb, Beverly began stroking her daughter’s clitoris. The girl jumped again, taking in a sudden gasp of breath, but otherwise the child did nothing. Beverly continued stroking the tiny pea of flesh, and her daughter was starting to tremble.

Then Beverly looked back at Sharon and said, “Never tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t,” Sharon managed, her eyes still glued to Beverly’s thumb and Karen’s clitoris.

Then Beverly leaned over and placed her mouth on her daughter’s cunt. Yes, it was now a cunt to her, not just a mound or a vagina. It was a sexual thing. Something that gave pleasure to her daughter as well as anyone else her daughter allowed to satisfy it.

Her lips wrapped themselves around her daughter’s small clitoris, and her tongue did a fast, rhythmic dance on it. She heard Sharon gasp and utter, “Oh, my God.” Beverly ignored it and continued lavishing her attentions on her daughter’s center of desire.

Karen’s reaction was instantaneous. She squealed and began to buck her hips involuntarily, as moans came from her that the young girl had never known existed.

She watched her mommy assaulting her mound, feeling her mother’s lips, tongue, and teeth bring that tiny area intense pleasure. And the feelings she experienced from this were beyond anything she’d ever felt or even imagined.

Then, without much warning at all, she had her first orgasm while her mother’s mouth and tongue made love to the soft flesh.

The moment she began to come, Sharon’s own orgasm seized her. Only Beverly and Susan did not reach their peaks yet.

But Beverly intended to change that. In fact, Beverly considered that Sharon was about to do something to her daughter that she’d never thought of before. But if Beverly had brought her daughter to orgasm with her mouth, then Sharon would do the same for her own daughter. It was important to Beverly that Sharon join in the debauchery so Beverly could avoid the guilt that threatened her even as her own hand delved below her waist to the burning desire she felt emanating from her swollen gash.

Beverly had decided that this must be their future, and if that were going to happen, then Sharon would have to do the same thing Beverly had.

Lifting her head from her daughter’s cunt, Beverly said to Sharon, “Your turn. Show your daughter how to have an orgasm.”

Susan smiled. “She’s going to do that to me?”

“Yes.” Beverly’s answer left no room for argument from Sharon.

Sharon blushed and moved to where her daughter sat. “Lie down,” she said. She was surprised at her own willingness to do this. No, not willingness. Eagerness.

She wanted it like nothing she’d ever done before. Perhaps she would explain later how she’d dreamed of doing this to her little girl, though of course she’d never told a soul of her fantasies.

Continue on to Chapter 3