Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Rachael Yukey

I woke up to sun streaming through the living room windows. I had shifted during the night so that I was sprawled across Julie with my head on her chest. Both of her arms were wrapped around me. I squinted at first in the bright light, but then my eyes cleared and fixed on Helen, who was sitting across the room in an easy chair, reading a paperback. My head jerked up in surprise. Helen caught the motion, lowered her book, and smiled at me.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she said. “You two look cozy.”

I don’t know if it was my moving around or Helen’s voice, but Julie started to stir. I turned my head towards her, and she was blinking. Her eyes opened all the way, and I watched as they took in me almost on top of her and her grandmother in the chair. She unwrapped her arms from around me and pushed on my shoulders.

“Oof, Mal…” she said with a grunt. “You’re squishing me, you lumpus!”

We both giggled a little, and I rolled onto my back. It was warm in the room, and I pushed the covers off. I realized my nightgown had pulled up past my waist while I was sleeping, and I quickly pushed it down over my underwear. I knew I was blushing a little.

“It’s okay,” said Helen. “No one but us girls in here, you know.”

“Willie might come in the living room,” I reasoned.

“No, he won’t. He’s having coffee with my dad… Julie’s great grandpa. We usually go over there together Saturday mornings, but I stuck around today since you girls are here.” She got up, and came over alongside the bed. She breathed in deeply through her nose.

“Maybe you girls had better take a shower before you get dressed for the day,” she advised. Julie and I looked at each other guiltily.

“It sure can get sweaty under the covers!” said Julie, a little too quickly.

Helen smiled a sweet smile.

“Sure,” she said, “and sometimes girls at sleepovers have secret, special fun together after bedtime. I was a girl once, and had some very… um… special sleepovers with my friends, too. So! Why don’t you two go hop in the shower, and I’ll get these sheets thrown into the washing machine. Deal?”

We got ourselves out of bed, grabbed our overnight bags, and retreated into the bathroom. Once we were together under the hot spray, Julie leaned close and spoke in a low voice.

“I cannot believe that just happened!”

“Me, either,” I said. “Your grandma is the coolest ever though. Mine would have locked me up and thrown away the key if she’d noticed something like that. My mom too.”

“Do you really think she could smell it

“We both got pretty wet, and we didn’t wash up after, you know.”

“Yeah…”

We helped each other wash our hair and backs. It was a little arousing, but I pushed those feelings aside. Even without that, it felt good to touch her and care for her, and to be touched and cared for. We got out, toweled, and got into our clothes. When we left the bathroom we could smell bacon frying. Helen made us heaping plates of eggs, bacon, and hash browns. I ate every bite… I was starving.

After breakfast we got our coats and boots on, and hiked up across the field. Dry soybean stubble crunched under our feet. The fields on their farm are very hilly, and even I can tell that it’s not very good soil. Instead of a rich, dark black, it’s golden and sandy. But it doesn’t matter these days, I guess. My dad likes to say that the soil is just there to hold the plants up, and the fertilizer is what makes it grow.

We crested a largish hill with a long slope, and then I could see the woods they’d been talking about. Downhill a little ways, and we were in them. It dropped off pretty sharply once you got in there; a really steep downhill slope. I wasn’t really surprised. About the only place you see woods in farm country is places where it’s too hilly or too wet to drive tractors. This was too hilly and too wet; at the bottom of the hill was a lake.

It was pretty brambly and full of prickly pear, so we picked our way along some deer trails. There’s a lot of deer sign out there; the hunting must be pretty good. The deer trails were wide and easy to follow. The whole way Helen chattered cheerfully, pointing out wild plants that are edible or can be used for medicine. Most of what she was pointing to had dried up for the year, but she still knew what it was. It’s funny; most of the people that grew up on farms don’t know this stuff anymore, but Helen mostly lived in cities, until they retired, and she can tell you what almost everything out there is. I wonder where she learned it.

About two thirds of the way down the hill we found the tree that grew the mushrooms. There were seven of them growing in a stack on the trunk. The biggest was maybe ten inches across, and the smallest probably half that. The top one was already starting to separate from the tree on it’s own.

Helen knelt down and gently pried on it, with her fingers very close to the trunk of the tree. It broke off cleanly, and she handed it to me. It was still a little squishy, but I could tell it was already mostly dry. I put it into a bag we’d brought along for them.

“The ones below are bigger,” she told me. “It’ll be easier to pull them off without breaking them if I have help.”

I handed the bag to Julie, and knelt down alongside Helen. Using all four of our hands we were able to work the mushroom back and forth without flexing it too much, and it came off of the tree in one piece. I handed it to Julie.

We worked our way down to the bottom, which was the biggest, and managed to break them all off without damaging any of them. I took the bag back from Julie and slung it over my shoulder. Then Julie and Helen took me on a tour around the outside edge of the farm. The Hansons own 200 acres, which isn’t much these days. Their land is on both sides of the highway. A lot of it is swampy and hilly.

Willie was home by the time we got back, but he was in his office. Except that he doesn’t like people calling it an office! I guess it’s a “man cave”. He usually sits in there with the door open. It’s a small room full of workbenches and tools. But mostly when I walked past there, he was playing games on his computer. They looked like kind of bloody ones.

Lisa and Jason showed up just before lunch. We ate grilled ham and cheese sandwiches, and then went out to harvest the squash. The vegetable garden is high up on the hill towards the highway, right up by Jason’s sister Theresa’s house. Theresa came out to help us pick the squash. She works nights at a hospital about thirty miles away, which is why I hadn’t met her yet. She’s married, but her husband is in the Navy and nobody sees him much. She’s about twenty years old, and so far is the only person I’ve seen in Julie’s family who’s a little chubby. She has a round face with big dimples, and the same dark brown hair and eyes as Jason. When we rolled up to the garden with me and Julie riding in the bed of Jason’s pickup she stepped out of her house, walked across her lawn to the garden area, and was standing behind the truck as Julie and I hopped down off the tailgate. She swept Julie into a quick hug, then turned to me with a bright smile.

“You must be Mallory!” she said. “Julie has told me so much about you. Can I hug you?”

I was immediately taken with her. I opened my arms and stepped into her embrace. She’s short enough that my face pressed up against her sizable boobs, and it made me tingle a little.

Being a farm girl you’d think I’d have done this a thousand times, but nope. My mom hasn’t grown a vegetable garden since I was little. I wasn’t even sure I knew what winter squashes taste like; Mom doesn’t buy them at the store. There sure are a lot of different kinds! The Hansons grow a lot of squash, and in all different shapes and sizes. There were little cute stripey ones the size of a big man’s fist, and huge gray or green ones that Jason said would weigh in at thirty or forty pounds.

It was actually pretty fun. It was kind of like a treasure hunt! When the leaves and vines dried down it covered up a lot of the squash, and we’d just pull on the vines and dig under leaves until we found them. Some of the vines stretched over twenty feet! We’d find a squash, cut the stem off the vine with a little set of shears, and put it in one of the pickups. We had both Jason’s pickup and Willie’s and filled up both of them. Willie was there, but mostly sat in his truck. His knees hurt too much for him to do work that takes a lot of walking. Everyone hung close together and we all laughed and chatted. Theresa turned out to be one of the most cheerful and bubbly people I’ve ever met and was super-fun to be around.

After the pickups were loaded we drove back down the hill, with Julie and I on top of the squash in the back of Jason’s truck. Regular princesses of the squash truck, we were. We unloaded the squash from Willie’s truck into the basement, and then we all just sat in the living room and hung out. The adults drank coffee, and Julie and I had sodas. My parents don’t let me drink pop hardly ever, and Julie doesn’t get to very much either. When my family gets together the kids are either expected to disappear somewhere or sit super-quiet and not make a sound; here Julie and I were allowed to be a part of the conversation. Neither of us really talked all that much, but it was fun and made me feel really grown up.

We got packed up to leave around four. Jason and Lisa had left dinner in the crockpot, and wanted to get the truckload of squash into the house before we ate. Before we took off Helen, Julie and I went upstairs. Helen had found a cardboard box and we put all of the tree mushrooms into it, including the ones we’d picked that morning. I was going to leave those, but Helen insisted. Then Helen showed us the sewing she had done the night before while we were watching a movie by giving us each a Barbie doll! They were dressed in clothes made from the patterns Julie and I had picked out.

“Helen, you shouldn’t…” I started to say.

“Hush,” she told me. “This is what I do. I pick up used Barbies at farm auctions or at junk shops. Sometimes I get whole boxes of them for almost nothing. Then I make clothes for them and give them to girls. So please, take it. I want you to.”

“Thank you Helen,” I said, and hugged her. She hugged me back.

“One other thing,” she said. “Obviously you two are big enough that the living room isn’t the best place for… um… sleepover activities.”

I blushed, and Julie suddenly got very interested in her feet.

“Willie and I are in the middle of sealing and fixing up the basement,” she went on. “I’m thinking a foldout couch down there would be a good idea. Then next time you two come here overnight, you’ll have a little more privacy. Sound good?”

We both mumbled agreement, trying not to look at her. She seemed amused.

Downstairs we said our goodbyes and gave hugs, and then Julie and I piled into the backseat of Jason’s club cab Ford. We were disappointed that we couldn’t ride home in the back with the squash and Jason pointed out that when he was a kid that’s what would have happened, but it’s been illegal to ride in the bed of a pickup on the highway for a long time now. Maybe that’s best.

When we pulled up to Julie’s house, Jason backed the pickup into the garage. He almost never puts the vehicles in there, but the inside garage door is really close to the basement stairway.

Loading the squash into the basement didn’t take long. It’s the first time I’ve been down there. There’s two parts. The original part of the house has an old, crumbly looking poured concrete basement. There’s no basement under the west addition where the kitchen is, but the newest part of the house on the east side has a more modern looking concrete block basement. None of it is finished. Jason told me there were bedrooms in the newer part when they moved in, but everything was water damaged so he ripped it all out. He says sealing and finishing the basement is at the bottom of his list of things to do. There’s a root cellar in the older half of the basement, and it was already full of potatoes, carrots, and garlic. We added the squash to that.

Dinner was a roast in the crockpot with potatoes and carrots, and after we finished eating Jason said he needed to run down to the basement for a few minutes. Once he’d disappeared down the basement stairs, Lisa beckoned us to follow her into the living room. We sat on the couch together and she spoke in a low voice.

“Julie told me you two are going to visit with Megan Frost tomorrow, and what it’s really all about,” she said to me.

“I’m not even sure what it’s really all about,” I admitted.

“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “I think it’s great that you girls have found someone close to your own age to talk with about this stuff! So have fun, and keep an open mind about new experiences. Okay?”

We both murmured agreement.

Jason and Julie drove me home. It’s the first time they’ve been to our farm, and I had to tell him where to go.

They helped me carry my stuff into the house, and Dad met us in the entryway. He and Jason shook hands, Jason asked him a question about the corn harvest, and while they talked farm stuff, Julie and I carried my stuff up to my room. I had the box of mushrooms, and Julie got my backpack and overnight bag. We dropped everything onto my bed, and then Julie gathered me into a hug. I put my arms around her and laid my head against her chest. She lowered her head and buried her face in my hair. Hugging is the wrong word for what we were doing; we were holding each other and it was the best feeling in the whole wide world.

“I wish you could stay with me tonight,” she whispered into my hair.

“I wish we were always together,” I said.

We parted, even though we didn’t want to. We went back downstairs and said our goodbyes. I almost told Julie I would see her tomorrow, but then remembered my dad standing right behind me. I stood on the porch and waved as Jason’s pickup rolled away, and they waved back.

As I entered the house I realized I hadn’t seen mom. I asked my dad if she was at the church, and he looked away.

“Your grandma is under the weather again,” he said, never once looking towards me. “Your mother is spending the night there to take care of her.”

Baloney, I thought. Grandma is the healthiest person I know. There must have been another blowout while I was gone.

Dad disappeared into his office. I wandered over to the piano. I kind of got lost in it, and kept playing until I heard the office door open. I realized with a start that it was after nine. I turned my head to look at my dad, and he looked funny. His cheeks were a little red, and he was kind of unsteady on his feet.

“Daddy?” I said, a little alarmed. I haven’t called him daddy in forever. “Are you all right?”

“Sure, fine.” he said. His words sounded blurry. As he walked past the piano I caught a whiff of something… something familiar. It took me a minute to place it. Dad looked and smelled like Uncle Louie did when he brought a bottle of whiskey to Grandpa’s funeral visitation! I hadn’t understood what was happening, except that everyone was really mad at Uncle Louie and my aunt Tammy had stuffed him into her car and gotten him out of there in a hurry. Later that evening my father had explained to me about drunkenness and told me it was a sin and I should really just avoid drinking alcohol entirely. But here he was, drunk. I was sure of it!

“Night, Mallory,” he said in that same blurry voice, and kind of stumbled off towards his bedroom. I closed the lid on the piano and got myself out of there.

By the time I took a shower and brushed my teeth it was late and I was super-tired, but so much had happened that I wanted to get it down in my diary. Now it’s almost midnight, but it’s okay because I don’t really need to start getting ready for church till 8:30 or so tomorrow morning. I’m also feeling kind of worked up thinking about going to Megan’s house tomorrow, so I guess I have one more thing to do before I sleep…

Onward to Chapter 10!