Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Amanda

1798 – Paris 

A month and a half seemed to pass by as if it were but a day. In that time, Monique introduced me to three women that she knew. That was all I had, five, between Monique and the Madame. It was by no means enough to support a tavern.

I decided that my tavern would forever be a liability and that I must have a steady income to support it. That was when I contacted Catherine again.

Catherine owned a number of plantations, they were where the bulk of her fortune came from. She needed ships to move her goods around the world and I knew that she contracted a number of boats every year, as she had a fleet of six.

I had three hundred gold coins. It was not much, but I thought it might be enough if she would grant me a loan. I wrote her and asked her to loan me the money to buy a small ship. It seemed to me that although what I felt I could afford was smaller than the larger three-masted vessels, it might still be able to make a profit.

I knew that the soonest I would be able to get the ship and put it to work for Catherine would be summer to make the purchase, and the end of the growing season to begin hauling cargo. But if she lent me the money, then surely she would contract me to her fleet.

While I awaited Catherine’s reply, I had decided that I would go before the good Madame again and demand that she help me. Five women and the two I had already met was wonderful if all I wanted were friends, but far from what I would need to build a proper sorority.

So the day came that I would visit her again. Madame La Granade. On this day Monique would accompany me and that was why I’d chosen that time. It was the day that she did not work and she had spent the night with me again.

We ate our breakfast at a cafe and boarded a coach. We rode quietly, both a bit nervous, all the way to the Madame’s home. When we arrived, uninvited, the maid looked displeased, but she went to her mistress all the same and we were allowed to meet with her.

The Madame looked Monique over, then her attention turned to me. I had purchased a new dress for this meeting, but Monique was not dressed nearly so fine as I. She was by no means wealthy. As I stood there watching the Madame, I realized that for the future I would have to buy dresses for my companion were we to continue meeting people of such station.

At long last our hostess spoke to Monique in French. I had begun to remember much of what I once knew, and I understood that she was telling my friend that she had always liked her name.

She would not speak English that day. She had no reason to. Monique understood French, as I was beginning to. I stood my ground and told her I had found but five such women counting those she had sent me to. I told her this. Really, as I look back on it now, I realize what an impudent little child I was. However the Madame forgave me that.

She offered to hold a party in my tavern. A party to which she would invite the five women I knew and five more. I had hoped for more than ten, but I was grateful all the same. I wondered if it had been this difficult for Catherine to build her list of women. Of course it did not occur to me that she had started with nothing, and I had the benefit of her years of work. I was far luckier than I realized at the time.

The Madame asked me what I intended to name my tavern. I smiled and told her ‘The Velvet Pony.’ She seemed amused, saying it sounded positively obscene. She also reminded me that I had been among like-minded women for so long that I might have forgotten the level of secrecy we must live in. She advised me to keep my tavern private, and hang no sign above its door. She would provide me a doorman for our party.

“How can you be sure everyone will come?” I asked her in French.

“Child, I am Annabelle La Granade. If I send the invitations, you can rest assured that they shall come.”

Monique laughed quietly to herself when the Madame said it, and I felt a bit foolish for the question. Of course Catherine would have provided me with her best contacts in Paris.

I left Annabelle La Granade’s home feeling a bit better than I had in some time. Ten was not what I hoped for, but it was a start, and she would be providing me both drink and patrons for my first night of business. Perhaps in time those ten would make twenty and my tavern would come to support itself.

So, I set about getting everything ready for the party. A week before I was to host it, a delivery man came to my door with a cart filled with drink. The Madame’s primary means of income was a vineyard in the Champagne region. But she also brewed ale. For that night she provided ale, rum, wine, and champagne. It appeared she expected much drinking, as I was provided enough for what seemed a week’s business. The last thing delivered by the men was a high-backed chair which they situated near the fireplace. It was a fine chair indeed, and I did not need to be told that it was for the Madame.

I had to find a barkeep for the party. I wished to mingle among the women and it would not do for me to be trapped behind the bar.

It was Monique who saved me having to look outside the small group I knew. She agreed to serve drinks, allowing me to meet the new women who would be coming. Indeed she was a dear girl and in the time we’d spent together I had become quite fond of her.

I had thought that everything needed for the party was done, but men arrived two days later and began removing my windows, replacing them with frosted glass. The good Madame seemed to be sort of benefactor to me. She was spending a small fortune for a single night’s entertainment.

As I watched the men work, I understood that she, the Madame, would want some form of payment for her generosity. I wondered how long I might have to work to afford the improvements she was making.

When the work was finished I sat in my tavern, the afternoon sun casting light through the new windows while obscuring the outside world, and me, from it. Monique came down the back stair and walked up behind me, wrapping her arms about my waist. I closed my eyes and felt a chill as she held me. It felt so wonderful to be held by her thin arms, to smell her perfumes, and to feel her soft cheek pressed against my own.

I could scarce bear the excitement, waiting for the party. I did so hope that I would be welcomed among those invited by the Madame. I feared that they would be wealthy and not unlike the women from the tea party. However she had told me that Josephine was known among such women and my time with my mistress seemed to have in some way opened a door with her, perhaps it would do the same for others.

The final days before the party were maddeningly slow and it did not help that I could live in such leisure. By the night of the party I had cleaned my house completely three times.

The party was scheduled for seven in the evening. The first guests arrived only moments after Monique had taken her place behind the bar. I had five women in my tavern by only twenty minutes after seven. The others, those enjoying greater wealth, as should be expected, arrived late.

Each was announced by the good Madame’s doorman. So when at last she arrived, at a quarter past eight, the attention of fourteen women turned to her. When she said she would invite five others it had not occurred to me that those five might bring someone else with them, and several did.

I was wandering about my tavern, meeting each woman and trying to place my name upon their lips. There were three ‘boys’ that night. The rest were ladies, and then the Madame. Every one of the women seemed keen to meet her, to come to her awareness.

It was later in the evening when I sat at the bar and Monique handed me a tankard of ale. I would have preferred wine, but this would do.

“Is it all you had hoped?” she asked.

I smiled up at her and nodded my head. “Yes.”

She playfully pushed the tip of my nose with her forefinger and I took my ale to go back and mingle.

I was sitting and speaking with one of the women Monique had introduced me to, Joan, when I felt a hand on my shoulder. With a smile I turned to see a woman to whom I had spoken, but whose name escaped me.

“Grace, dear,” she said, offering her hand. I took it and kissed her fingers.

With a twinkle in her eye, she said to me, “You are the one that Annabelle said had completed Josephine’s training.”

“Yes, I am.”

“Awful sort, that Josephine, but those who fall beneath her wings, their charms cannot be ignored.” She smiled and winked. I returned the smile.

Grace was a woman of breeding. Her wealth was evident in her dress and jewels. She had heard enough about me to know about my mistress, and my accomplishment impressed her.

Some time later I stood before the good Madame and we spoke in French. I was thanking her as deeply as I could for her generosity. The party was going well. As could be expected, the wealthy women behaved as such, but had managed to find it within themselves to mingle as the night drew on.

This is what I had hoped for. I now had fourteen woman who knew of my tavern. They were buying drinks and talking and smoking. I went to the bar and took a cigar, lighting it.

“Are you alone?” a voice came.

I turned to see a younger blonde girl. I imagined she could be no older than seventeen. As I looked upon her, I could only wonder how she had gotten out of her home to come here.

I glanced at Monique. I was not alone. “No, not tonight,” I told the girl.

“Too bad, really,” she said. “You could be my first.”

This led to a temptation I had never felt before. The idea of being this girl’s first lover enticed me and I found I could hardly deny myself.

She offered her hand. “I’m Penelope.”

I smiled as I took it and bowed before her as would a man. I kissed her fingers and smiled up at her.

I lingered a bit long, I think, but soon enough returned her control of her hand. I glanced up for only a moment to see Monique looking at us amused. She knew the girl, and I had been introduced to her, but hardly remembered her.

Penelope was a maid in a lawyer’s home. She lived in a small room and among her duties cared for the children. However none of this immediately sprang to my mind.

“You tempt me, child,” I finally said.

“Who is she?” the girl asked. She seemed to know the effect her bluntness would have.

“Monique, of course,” I told her. She turned to the bar and smiled at my lover. Monique soon approached.

“Did she say you would be her first?” Monique asked.

I nodded my head.

“That’s how she got me into her bed,” she laughed.

Penelope glared at her for only a moment before breaking into laughter as well. “I am a wicked child indeed,” she said to me.

Monique handed her a glass of rum and she happily, nearly skipping, returned to the main group.

“Are you going to sing for us tonight?” my lover asked. I could only shrug, but she pushed at my shoulder. “Come now, you may never have this chance again.”

I agreed and leaned myself over the bar until I could reach my guitar. I approached the ladies and pulled out a chair. Then I did something that elicited a gasp even from women such as these. I propped my foot upon the chair to support the guitar on my knee.

“Ah! A song!” Monique shouted from the bar and the ladies forgot my most unladylike stance.

“Very well, then,” I began. “I learned this song from a girl most dear to my heart.” I hardly paused. I simply began strumming the guitar and singing the song that so many years ago I had learned from Alice.

When I was done, all of the women clapped, and some, especially the boys, cheered. I felt wonderful. I would not know for some time, but at least for tonight I was enjoying a fair amount of acceptance among them.

Rich and poor, ladies and boys… that night we all concerned ourselves with but a single thing, and that was our shared lust.

It was nearly midnight when I saw that this party might soon end, and I decided that I must attempt to perpetuate my business. I stood upon the bar, calling for everyone’s attention. “Ladies, and gentlemen, my heart is warmed to see you all here. But we do not have to part ways forever this night. You shall find my tavern open any Saturday night at five and closed only when the last of you leaves. Of course you have by now, I am sure, guessed that only like-minded women are welcomed here.”

I stepped down as many of the women clapped their hands. I approached the good Madame and offered my hand as she stood.

“Very good girl,” she said. I took her arm as she walked slowly toward the door. “I shall bill you for the drink, pay it as you are able.”

We reached the door and I escorted her to her carriage. “You are quite the demanding girl, indeed. I was put off by you, at first, but I thought that since you came directly from Josephine perhaps I could forgive you.” I helped her into the carriage. “You’ve done well for yourself tonight. I should think that even some of my friends might return to be entertained by you.” She pulled the door closed and smiled at me through the window as the coachman pulled away.

I returned to my tavern. Within the ladies were beginning to show the signs of having been drinking all night. I made a final round of all the guests as they began to leave one by one.

When at last all that was left were Monique and myself I came to her and took her into my arms. “Do you think we have managed to begin something wonderful here?” I asked.

“I should certainly hope we have.” She pulled back and looked into my eyes. “You were the life of the party, dear. I believe I heard your name a number of times.”

I smiled. It brought me a great relief to think that perhaps I truly had begun something quite wonderful.

We left the tavern in just such a state when we went up to my apartment. I dearly wanted to make love to Monique, but had hadn’t the strength, and judging by her drooping eyelids I doubted she did either.

In the morning Monique returned to her duties at the stable and I went down to the tavern to clean. Another week would pass now, another week before I would feel Monique’s arms about my waist. I so hated that her work kept her from me.

I began to wonder if she would like to come and live with me. I had the money to support us both, and well too. She could work in the tavern with me and perhaps together, between us, we could make all of the dreams I had dared to dream come true.

I waited out the week. When at last Monique arrived at my door I could hardly contain myself until the door was closed.

I wrapped my arms around her and we kissed long and deep. When at last we broke, I looked at her and smiled. “What if you could live with me?”

“I couldn’t. You know that.” She was taking me lightly, but I meant my offer.

“I mean it, Monique. I have more than enough money for both of us. We could truly make a go of it. We could make the tavern a kind of haven.”

“You’re serious, aren’t you?”

I nodded. She half laughed as she turned and walked toward the sofa. “You want me to leave the stables and come here to live with you?”

“And why shouldn’t you? They hardly pay you enough to live on.”

“But my money is my own. I am independent. I need no one.”

Now I immediately understood. I could not make that same claim. I relied entirely upon Catherine and her generosity.

Another month passed. Each Saturday night we opened the tavern. Few ever came, but they did come and that was something at least. More pleasing was that I had seen a new face among the few that came. It was one more woman and one more possibility.

I went to Catherine’s lawyer and when I collected my allowance he had a letter for me from Catherine. I could hardly wait to read it but I did not break its seal until I reached my home.

I opened the letter as I sat upon my sofa and sipped tea. Catherine first told me that she, Eliza, and Alice were all doing very well. She told me of the things they would do together, though unfortunately she spared any details that were too titillating.

Finally she came to the loan I had requested. She promised me that if I acquired a ship I would receive preferential treatment from her, but that she could not loan me the money. Instead, what she would be willing to do is match whatever money I could put as down payment on a ship.

It was not what I had hoped. But it was something, and I took no time at all to decided that this would be exactly what I would do. I wrote her back that day and returned to the lawyer the following day to have him deliver my message. I had told her that I had three hundred gold coins I was saving for this ship. I had a few more than that, I am sure, but I had not taken the time to count it all.

Four months later, I went to my lawyer to find my allowance had arrived with three hundred gold coins. This was the start of it, I thought to myself. I had finally begun the path to my future in earnest.

Her lawyer also told me that he would be glad to take care of finding the ship and negotiating the terms. I did not want him to. I wanted to learn for myself how to do such things, but I decided in the end that since this was the first purchase of this type that I had ever made, I should accept his offer. I agreed, and told him to take what money I had been saving to help make the down payment.

I returned home not expecting to hear from him again for some time. While I waited, I began to wonder about perhaps trying again to persuade Monique to come and live with me. I missed her terribly during the time she was working at the stable. I dearly wanted her near me all the time.

Our night came, Friday. She had Saturdays to herself and did not have to arrive back at the gentleman’s stable until well after noon on Sundays. She was not expected to work that day, as her employer was very religious, but she was expected to be home.

“I’ve missed you,” she said as she wrapped her arms about my waist.

I pushed the door closed quickly and took her face in my hands, pulling her forward and kissing her deeply. “Every day is an eternity when you’re not here,” I told her.

We held each other a time before we made our way to the sofa where we could sit and talk before supper.

Monique looked into my eyes and could see that I had a question for her. She may even have known what it was. Surely she had to suspect. “What is it, Elizabeth?”

“It is a conversation we have long had,” I answered.

“You want for me to come to live with you,” she said quietly.

“Of course I do. What more could I hope for? It breaks my heart to only see you once each week.”

“As I, but what would I do here?” she asked. “Keep your house? Be a wife to you while you went about spending your allowance?”

“And why not? I don’t ask that you clean my home and cook my meals, but we could go out together and spend my money, enjoy our meals at a different cafe every night, and on Saturday nights open the tavern.”

“The tavern…” she said. “Do you truly think you can make a go of that?”

“I do. In time. I need only remain in good standing with the Madame and she will sell me the drink at a price I could not find elsewhere.”

“And if we’re found out?”

“That will always be a danger, Monique.”

“Give me a week to consider it,” she said quietly after a long silence. “Perhaps it is the most reasonable thing to do.” She tried to smile but I could tell she was only playing at it.

We ate dinner in a more solemn mood than usual that night, but by the time we had gotten home things had begun to lighten. We were giggling and talking when we came into my house.

It had been far too long since we had made love. I wasted no time in pulling Monique to my bedroom. Tonight I would share something with her that I had not seen or used in years. Not since losing Madeline.

I had kept the small bag I traveled with beneath my bed for all of the time I had been in Paris. But as we lay upon the bed kissing I reached underneath for the bag and pulled it out. I sat back holding it and smiled at Monique.

“I have something positively awful to show you,” I told her. “I hope that you will let me use it tonight.”

I opened the bag and pulled out the dildo.

Monique’s eyes grew wide as she looked first from me to it and then back again. “You mean to use that on me tonight?”

She touched the straps and I could see that she was understanding its usage. “Should I wear it or shall you?” she finally asked.

“Both, perhaps?” I so hoped we could both enjoy it. She smiled at me.

“It’s absolutely wicked, indeed. How did you come by this horrible thing?”

“It was a gift of sorts,” I told her, not wanting to discuss Madeline with her. “I must warn you… if I use it, then you shall truly be ruined for any man. It would take your virginity.”

Monique smiled, and sat up straighter, taking the dildo in her hands, examining it closely. “Too late for that, I think.” She handed it back to me. “I told you before, I’m not a virgin.”

I stood and began removing my dress. Monique kept her eyes on me, hardly blinking. Once my clothes no longer hindered me I strapped the dildo on and crawled onto the bed.

I began kissing Monique, feeling her breasts and sliding the dildo between her legs. She rocked her hips with me and closed her eyes. I tongued and bit at her nipples before I pushed myself up and looked down at her. She half opened her eyes, and with a gentle thrust I pushed the dildo deep inside her. Her eyes fluttered and she moaned loudly.

My dear Monique rocked her hips, raising herself up to greet the phallus I wore. She pulled at my bottom, urging me deeper though she remained silent. I thrust my hips, driving deep within her. I had worn the dildo before but never like this. I had been but a subject of torment the last time I felt this.

It was different now. I had begun to understand some of why Madeline had so enjoyed it. There was a feeling of power I had never known, and I found it exhilarating.

“More,” Monique moaned, and I increased my speed, driving even deeper into her sex. She gasped and groaned. The girl brought her legs up, wrapping them about my waist and I nearly climaxed myself feeling this.

When at last she cried out, I felt as if I too might explode. I covered her mouth with my own and wrestled with her tongue. She clutched at my back, and I am sure she left marks.

Finally Monique grew quiet, stretching her arms over her head. She smiled up at me. “That was wonderful,” she whispered.

I simply nodded. I wished to know the pleasure too.

In time I moved so that Monique could get up. I removed the dildo and handed it to her. She nodded, knowing what I wanted.

Monique slid the belt over her waist and I helped her buckle it between her legs. When that was done, she eased me back to the bed and we began kissing. Her tongue tasted sweet with port wine and I found myself enjoying it.

I brought my knees up as she moved her mouth to my breasts, keeping one hand between my legs massaging my sex. I could hardly wait to feel the phallus she wore, but did not want to rush her either.

At long last she mounted me, and drove the dildo deep within me. I nearly growled with the pleasure of it. She thrust deep into me, then pulled out nearly all the way before pushing deep within again in long slow strokes.

I found I had wrapped my legs about her waist as she had mine. I was tightening them with each thrust.

As I pulled at her ass she increased her speed until we were moving at a furious rate. I thought surely I had to be in danger of injury, but all I could feel was pleasure. I threw my head back and dug my fingers into her rump. I fought not to scream as an orgasm ripped through me.

I loved every wicked pleasure one woman could give another, but I had not felt this in so long that I found I dearly missed it.

We slept that night naked and holding one another.

Continue on to Chapter 11

By Misty Meadow

That evening, after Ashley had gone to bed, Ursula and I made love in her room. The heat of her earlier passion had cooled, but she was still an enthusiastic lover, crying out in ecstasy when I bit on her nipple. She went down on me and gave me a lovely orgasm, then we sat with our backs to the head of the bed, our knees up under our chins.

“Don’t move,” I said, “I’m gonna take a picture.” I found my phone in the pocket of my shorts and told her to spread her legs. I took the shot, then moved in for a close up of her cunt.

She smiled indulgently, then said, “Go get your laptop. I want to see those pictures again.”

When I returned with it, Ursula opened up the file she wanted, then slowly clicked through the photos her daughter had taken of me, murmuring words of appreciation. Then, to my surprise, she opened the other file, the one with the lewd snaps of Ashley. I’d assumed that the last thing on earth she’d want to do was look at those pictures, and half-expected her to explode with rage all over again.

But no, she calmly scrolled through every single picture — taking her time, inspecting each one closely.

“I have to admit it,” she said, “my daughter is damn sexy. I can see now why you fell so hard for her.” She paused, staring at the image of her little girl, captured in an especially lewd pose. “Look at the expression on her face. My God — only twelve, and she’s working it like a bloody porn star.” She shook her head, lost in awe. “Quite the exhibitionist, isn’t she?”

“She is, and then some. Whenever I’d forget to take a picture, she’d remind me.”

“But it seems so… so odd to me that a girl who hasn’t yet had her first period can display herself like that.”

I shrugged. “Maybe I’m to blame. I never did anything to discourage Ashley, just let her do whatever she liked. It was thrilling, seeing her grow up so fast.”

“I can imagine. But if she’s so promiscuous now, what’s she going to be like when she’s a teenager. Will she be some kind of freaky nymphomaniac?”

“She’s gay, remember. She can’t get pregnant and unlikely to catch any nasty diseases. I think that if you try to be straightforward with her, you can help to channel her passions in a constructive way… teach her that it’s better to have a few lovers you really care for, rather than a lot of casual fucks that you don’t give a damn about. Still, I don’t think a hearty appetite for sex is a bad thing. Take yourself, for example.”

She laughed. “Like mother, like daughter, eh?”

“Precisely.”

“But she is remarkably sexy, don’t you agree? Of course you agree, you’re into little girls.”

“Oh, not exclusively. I still like to fuck mature women. Women with nice firm tits,” I said, squeezing her left breast. “Women with nicely shaved cunts.” I ran my hand over her mound, tracing the slit with a fingertip. “Women with warm wet pussies for me to lick.”

By then, Ursula was quivering with desire. I slid down the bed, got between her thighs and pressed my face into her pink palace.

While licking her, I looked up to see that she’d got my phone and was taking pictures of me. I raised my head, smiled for the camera, licked my lips and went back to my favourite meal, namely, “Lunch at the Y.”

*****

A few days later, Ashley told me her mum was acting strangely.

“First, she asked me to take a shower with her. She hasn’t done that since I was, like four or so. When I got undressed, she took pictures of me, saying how beautiful I was and that I should never be ashamed of my body. Then, she wanted to soap me all over, even my bum and my cunt. She didn’t use a washcloth, either, just her hand — and I’m pretty sure that she touched me more than she needed to. ‘We have to get your cunny nice and clean,’ she said. It was more like she was feeling me up! Then, when Mum kissed me goodnight, it was a real kiss, not a little peck on the cheek like she usually does. What’s she up to, d’ya think?”

“Were you embarrassed? Afraid? Freaked out?”

“No,” she replied with a shake of the head. “She’s my mum and I love her. I don’t mind what she does to me. I know if I say ‘no’ she’ll stop.”

“Hmmm. Did you want her to stop?”

She actually blushed. “Well, no… I mean, it did feel nice, and I do love her — so it’s okay, I guess.”

“Do you tell her that you love her?”

“All the time.”

I, too, was wondering what Ursula was up to. I recalled her reaction to the extreme pictures of Ashley, how she’d seemed to almost admire her daughter’s behaviour, where most mums would have been repulsed.

The question was unfurling in my head: Is Ursula coming on to her own daughter? The very notion seemed crazy… then again, the recent goings-on in our household had been anything but normal. What unnerved me was that her behaviour toward Ashley seemed a lot like… well, something that I might do, if I was bent on seduction.

At any rate, Ashley didn’t seem especially upset about her mum, so I kept my suspicions to myself.

Then the very next day, Ashley reported that she went into her mum’s bedroom to find her stretched out on the bed, stark naked.

“Nothing wrong with that,” I said. “I lie around naked sometimes.”

“You didn’t let me finish,” she fired back. “There’s more, lots more. She asked me to come and lie beside her, and when I did, she put her arm round my shoulder and asked me if I liked her breasts. I said they were awesome, ‘cos they are, and then she took my hand and put it on one of them!”

“She didn’t,” I gasped, my heart beginning to throb.

“She so totally did! She asked me to squeeze it and pinch her nipple and she said it felt nice and then, guess what?”

“Tell me.”

“Mum told me that she wanted to remember what it was like back when I was a baby and getting milk from her. She held one of her titties up and… and offered it to me, asked me if I would kiss and suck on it.” Her eyes flashed with excitement. “She was getting turned on, Misty. I could tell. I could smell her cunt!”

“So, did you? Suck on her nipple, I mean.”

“Sure,” she replied with a shrug. “If it makes her feel good, why not?”

“Yeah, why not?” Because she’s your mother, that’s why not, I thought, but couldn’t deny that I found this whole scenario to be strangely exciting.  I wasn’t exactly jealous… though by that point, I’d have given up a week’s pay to have my nipple in Ashley’s mouth.

“She told me not to tell you, Misty — but I don’t want us to keep secrets from each other. I still love you.”

“Me, too, sweetheart,” I sighed. “God, how I miss our little adventures.”

Ashley scowled at me. “Little? They were huge! Remember when I fisted you? You were bouncing around like a crazy woman, saying all kinds of dirty things to me. I miss that…”

“Then listen to this. I wanna take your knickers down and kiss your arse all over and finger your pussy and suck on it and kiss your titties and let you kiss mine and finger me and shove your whole hand up my cunt and then pee on my face in the shower and…”

“Stop it,” she cried, laughing. “You sound so — so slutty!”

“Yeah, call me a slut. Remember when I called you a slut, just before we got caught? You liked that.”

“I did,” she pouted, gesturing helplessly. “Now, it’s just… all I get to do now is think about it. That’s not even close to enough.”

“What can I say? l loved being a slut with you, my sweet — but we can’t anymore. I promised your mum.”

“Promises can be broken,” she said, plaintively.

“We’ve been through this, love. If I break my promise to your mum, how would you be able to trust me not to break the promises I make to you?”

“I guess you’re right. But… it’s all so frustrating, damn it!” Ashley’s pretty hands were balled into fists, her face a picture of anguish.

I reached out to take one of her clenched hands, then caressed it between mine until she relaxed. “I know it’s hard, sweetie. I’m having a rough time with this myself. Think of me when you masturbate — that’ll help.”

“I do! I do! I remember all the lovely things we did and pretend we’re doing them again, and I come. Not as fantastic as when I’m with you, but I always come.”

“I love you, Ashley.” I kissed her on the lips — briefly, so as not to get carried away.

“Love you too, Misty,” she whispered.

“Now go get finished with your homework, and I’ll get dinner started,” I told my melancholy little lover, sending her off with a pat on the shoulder.

*****

The situation between Ashley and her mother got weirder still. A few days later, upon arriving home from school, she reported that Ursula had asked her if she wanted a massage. “I told her, ‘Okay, I guess’.”

Her mum told her to undress completely, and was taking pictures of her the whole time. Then when Ashley was naked, Ursula got her to lie on her back.

“On your back? What the hell kind of massage was that?”

Ashley smirked. “Well, what she really wanted was to take more pictures of me with my clothes off.”

Ursula took several, then asked Ashley to lift her legs up to her chest and hold them there, while she took a close-up shot of her daughter’s bum and cunt. Then Ashley had to get up on all fours, so her mum could get a picture of her from the rear — also at extremely close range.

“It was just like you and me,” she continued, “when we played together. Mum kept telling me how beautiful I was. She had me lay down on my back again, and she leaned in really close to look at my cunt. Like she was inspecting it, y’know?”

“Inspecting it for what?” I asked. Jesus sodding Christ, I was actually feeling jealous!

“Hair. She was looking for hair. She ran her thumb over my pussy. ‘Just checking,’ she said. Then she was running the tips of her fingers all up and down my body, kinda like she was tickling me with a feather. I liked that; it felt nice. She did little circles round my nipples and they got hard. The thing was, every time that she reached my cunt, her fingers stayed there for a second or so — like it was maybe an accident, but I knew it wasn’t, ‘cos her fingers stayed longer and longer until she couldn’t pretend anymore.

Mum asked me if it felt nice, and I told her that, yeah, it did. In fact, I told her not to stop. Boy, her face sure lit up when I said that! She was really excited. I mean, I could smell her pussy again, like last time.” Ashley was grinning as she remembered it. “She smells almost as nice as you do! Anyhow, she was standing next to me, completely naked–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” I protested. “Your mother got undressed, too?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you that?” Ashley replied, furrowing her brow. “Mmm, guess not. Yeah, she took off her dress when I was up on my hands and knees. The dress was all she had on, anyhow — nothing under it. So, I was checking out Mum’s tits — they’re really nice, by the way — and I just sort of felt like, y’know, touching them. I figured if I just went ahead and did it, she wouldn’t mind, so I reached up and squeezed ‘em, both her titties. She loved it! Absolutely loved it.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I think me feeling her up like that might’ve scared her a little bit, though… ‘cos all of a sudden Mum said she had to take a shower, and she left.” Ashley giggled. “Never did get that massage.”

“You don’t feel… awkward or anything, having your own mother doing this stuff to you?”

“Not really. It’s just like when she gives me kisses, only now Mum’s being more, um, adult about it. She’s just telling me she loves me.” She sighed. “Guess I should go do my homework.” Ashley bent to pick up her book bag, then hesitated. “Oh, she told me not to say anything to you about us doing stuff like that. I told her I wouldn’t, ‘cos I’d rather lie to her than you.” She gave me a wistful smile, then trudged upstairs.

I was seething inside as I watched her go, my mind a jumble of mixed anger and arousal. Fucking Ursula. That bitch. That fucking bitch! How dare she read me the riot act for making love to her daughter, then come on to Ashley herself? At least what I did with her wasn’t incest — it was pure, innocent love, just expressed in a physical way.

On the other hand, this was knowledge I could make use of. It might even be a gateway to get Ashley back, to make her my lover once more. I now held a powerful card… the only question was, how to play it?

*****

After Ashley went to bed that night, I fucked Ursula doggy fashion with a strap-on she produced from a box hidden in her closet. While I was pounding her cunt, I reached around and fingered her clit until she got off. It was something to see — she was writhing, twitching, bucking, squirming and thrusting herself back on to my latex cock, coming again and again.

After I’d worn her out and we’d rested, I asked Ursula to fuck me with it and she did. In a way, it was good to be dominated like that. I enjoyed a little humiliation now and then, like how she’d sometimes verbally abuse me when I licked her cunt, calling me a dirty little whore and a lot else.

When I’d come for the second time, I decided to get down and dirty with her in a big way. “Wanna fuck me up the bum?” I asked her.

That got her attention, right enough. “Oh, you like anal? I wish you’d told me before! I like it too.”

It hurt going in, though the lube definitely helped. It was good in a different way — not as nice as up my cunt, but good enough to make me come again.

Ursula was very pleased. “It’s just like the old days, before I caught you with Ashley.”

“Speaking of which,” I said. “you both seem to be getting along a lot better these days. I see her looking at you with respect… no, make that adoration, in her eyes. It seems as if our little affair didn’t come between the two of you after all.”

She smiled at me, wagging a finger. “I know what you’re doing, Misty. You’re trying to play down what you did with my daughter, just so you can get her back again. That’s not an option.”

You mean that she’s your private property, I thought.

“You know, Ashley’s just about to hit puberty,” I began, “and she’s already experienced sex and enjoyed it. That means she’ll be feeling one hell of an urge to do it again… and all the lectures in the world about being too young won’t make those urges go away.”

“I know,” Ursula muttered. “That’s how it was for me… only I was fourteen, at least, not twelve. What’s your point?”

“Just this: if you don’t want Ashley to be coming on to other girls — or even older women, like her teachers — then she’ll need someone to express those feelings with. What if… well, what if that someone was you?”

Suddenly, she was guarded, on edge. “What are you suggesting? Is this — based on anything she’s said to you?”

“Only that she loves you,” I lied. “Let me explain. I knew a girl in college who was totally gay, a big-time cunt hound, couldn’t keep her hands off the girls. I ought to know, I was one of them. Anyway, one night when we were in bed together, she told me that just after she got her first period, she got snubbed in a big way by the girl she liked, and no one else seemed to be interested in her, even just to fool around.

“She was already out to her mother and confided in her. Her mum hugged her, then took the girl into her bedroom, undressed her, laid her down and proceeded to kiss and touch her body all over, paying special attention to her cunt. She told me she didn’t mind that it was her mum — who made her come several times, by the way. She liked it so much that she returned the favour — sucking on her mum’s tits, fingering her cunt and eventually going down on her. The last time I saw her she told me they were still getting it on, and that her mum was better than all her other lovers. They’re still at it. for all I know.”

“Holy shit!” Her face was alight with excitement. “A mother and daughter having lesbian sex? Sounds like a porno movie — a really perverted one.”

Good — you’ve hooked her. Now reel her in. “Actually, I was quite touched by her story. She wasn’t some psychologically damaged neurotic, she was a smart, balanced and as far as I know, contented woman who didn’t feel the least bit of shame for what she’d done with her mum. Oh, I can understand why heterosexual incest is a taboo. What girl wants to get knocked up by her dad? But a sexual relationship between mother and daughter… well, that has no downside that I can see.”

Not wanting to give her an chance to pick holes in my argument, I told Ursula that I was feeling drowsy and ought to turn in for the night. I gave her a brief kiss, then gathered up my clothes and made a graceful exit, padding naked through the house.

On the way back to my room, I took a detour into the loo for a much needed pee, not bothering to shut the door. I heard Ashley’s door open, and she floated into the bathroom in her diaphanous nightie. I could see her nipples and cunt clearly through the whisper-thin material.

She started when she saw me sitting on the loo. “Oh… I’m not supposed to see you naked, am I?”

“It’s fine, you don’t have to leave. Your mum’s probably asleep.” I finished peeing, wiped myself and stood to let Ashley sit. She hitched her nightie up round her waist, and I bent down to take a long look at her darling little cunt as her pee streamed out. Unable to resist, I put my finger in the stream, brought it to my mouth and sucked it.

“Wow… you are so bad, Misty,” she said.

I moved closer, my sex now inches from her face. “Look at my cunt,” I said, spreading my lips open with my fingers. “That’s where you belong, lover… inside me.”

She gazed up at me, an expression of longing on her face. “I so want to touch you there, Misty… more than anything! But Mummy says I can’t, not ever again.”

Her sorrow only made me more determined than ever to outwit Ursula. “Listen to me, Ashley. One day, we’ll be together again, and we’ll make love like we used to. I promise you that.”

Continue on to Chapter 6