Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

That was, without question, the most thrilling and rewarding period of my life, at least so far. An outwardly typical high school sophomore, I was privileged to enjoy hour after hour of spectacular, if secret, erotic fun and games nearly every weekend. How could a girl be any luckier?

If you’d seen me that spring, you might have wondered what kind of pep pills I was on, looking so happy and bubbly and full of energy all the time. It wasn’t drugs that did it for me, however, outside of a little alcohol on occasion. Nope, it was sex: hot raunchy sex with three attractive women along with incredibly exciting sex with their underage daughters, and as much of that as I could ever want. Wow! Plus there was always plenty of steamy incestuous interaction between the kids and their moms.

Even if they never quite went all the way (no matter how hard I schemed), I received huge satisfaction from seeing the mothers and daughters masturbate together, sometimes kissing and touching, bringing one another pleasure, and often reaching orgasm at the same time. So yummy to watch. 

After that first sensational group session involving all three moms and all four girls, we enjoyed repeat performances each Saturday afternoon and evening through March and into April. I continued refining and expanding the things I’d already taught the kids, giving them a comprehensive education in lesbian lovemaking.

Along the way we also celebrated two birthdays. Danielle turned thirty-one in March, and then in April, little Addison had her tenth birthday. The festive parties and decorated cakes made those sexy weekends we spent together even more enjoyable.

We had to miss out only once, at Easter when my parents took me for an overnight visit with an aunt and uncle and some cousins on my dad’s side. Other than that, we met without fail, usually at Kay’s, but a couple of times at Donna’s when her husband was out of town.

I would always spend the night, sleeping with the women. Although they stuck with their vow of not actually having sex with their daughters — while constantly skirting the line, coming very, very close — it seemed a release for them later to have their way with me. They fucked me hard in every hole, sitting on my face, tonguing, fingering, using filthy language all the while and making me come over and over again. Even with Gina, I’d never enjoyed so many wonderful orgasms, first with the little girls and then with their moms. Have I mentioned how lucky I was?

 

Alas… all good things must come to an end. I’d heard that saying before, plenty of times, but I never knew how strongly it would someday apply to me.

It was after dinner one Monday night late in April. As we were eating dessert, my mother and father informed me that as soon as school was done for the year, in about six weeks, we would be relocating because of my dad’s job, moving from Baltimore to Chicago. Oh no!

They were all smiles and tried to make this seem like a good thing. My dad was being transferred to company headquarters and getting a big promotion, so there’d be a lot more money for us. We would live in a larger house, have nicer clothes and everything like that. I would be able to choose whatever college I wanted to go to without settling for second or third best. We wouldn’t have to scrimp and save the way we did now.

All that would be great, and I was happy for my dad, obviously. But — would I be able to find a group of young girls there in need of yoga lessons, little girls whose moms wanted me to have sex with their kids while they watched? What were the chances of that ever happening again? Practically zero.

 

I broke the news to Kay and Danielle and Donna the next day following our usual after-school teaching session. The women were as devastated as I was, it appeared, probably wondering how they could ever find another yoga instructor like me!

They shed tears, and I did too, as we exchanged heartfelt hugs all around. Of course I wasn’t going anywhere yet, not for a few more weeks, but still it seemed like this was the end, knowing our idyllic weekend frolics were numbered and soon would be gone forever.

We decided not to tell the kids, at least not right away, figuring it was better to let them enjoy our remaining time together without that dark cloud hanging over everything.

One small benefit this provided me, however, in spite of the sadness I felt, or maybe because of it, was a greater sense of urgency. I was determined make the absolute most of every moment I had left with these girls and their mothers, to experience all the illicit pleasure and debauchery with them that I possibly could.

With that aim in mind, I did my best to think of new ways I might bring them even closer, upping the incest factor. I’m not sure why, but that idea turned me on more than anything else then (and it still does). Since it seemed unlikely I would ever have a daughter of my own, being a lesbian, and since I wasn’t especially attracted to my own mom — who probably wasn’t available anyway, even if I had been — I had to get my kicks vicariously, setting up dangerously dirty situations with these mothers and daughters and seeing how it would play out.

 

It wasn’t easy to surpass all the amazing things we’d done already, but I kept trying. My most memorable success took place on what would turn out to be our next to last Saturday together, when I had them work on an ‘edging’ exercise.

In preparation for this, I’d made a request in advance that everyone should wear skirts or dresses for this session — no shorts or slacks or jeans — along with panties, which you couldn’t always count on with the members of our group, me included. Anyway, there we were, just after 3:00 PM on a sunny day in late May, standing in the large family room at Donna’s house (her husband Trevor away again on business). Because it was so warm outside, plenty of skin was showing… very short skirts, tank tops, sleeveless dresses, all quite tantalizing.

I looked slowly around at my friends, the women and the girls, experiencing a strange combination of feelings, my lust and desire rising while at the same time I had to fight back tears. Clearing my throat, I smiled at them, and said, “So, today I thought we might do some work on masturbating, on giving ourselves sexual pleasure.”

That announcement brought smiles from them as well.

“I know we’ve done a lot of that already, and I also know you guys have been practicing on your own, haven’t you?”

Everyone nodded, with Donna adding, “Yes, of course, all the time!” Now we had plenty of giggles to go with the grins.

“That’s great,” I continued, “but there’s one thing we haven’t really worked on yet, which is edging. Does anyone know what that is?”

“Sure,” said Danielle. “It’s when you get as close as you can but then hold back just before you come. Sorta try and see how long you can make it last.”

“Exactly. And in fact this is a very good exercise to go along with the yoga training I’ve done with the girls. You know, how we focus on control and discipline, on learning to master our body and our physical sensations. We can do that with masturbation too, making it both spiritual and sensual all at once. Let’s give it a try, all right?”

No one objected, but of course I didn’t expect them to. By now I was able to suggest almost anything and they would gladly follow. The only limit I had to observe was avoiding explicit sex between the moms and daughters — though I pushed that boundary as far and as often as I could. Today I would take it even further.

“To start, let’s talk for a minute about masturbating. And why don’t we sit down and get comfortable first, with the girls on the sofa, the rest of us here.”

I’d told Donna how to arrange the room beforehand. Facing the long rattan sofa about five feet away was a matching loveseat and on either side of the loveseat were cushioned chairs, all forming a loose circle. Kay and Danielle were in the loveseat, while I sat in one of the chairs and Donna took the other. The four girls squeezed in side by side on the sofa, with Heather on one end, Felicity on the other, Cherise and Addison in the middle.

The curtains on the floor to ceiling windows were wide open, offering a view of the patio and swimming pool. Although the yard was fenced, the neighboring houses all had two stories, so it was at least conceivable that after we got naked and started playing with ourselves someone might see in and discover what we were doing. I liked the feeling of risk this added.

“Okay, so, when was your last orgasm?” I inquired once we’d settled in. “For me, it was last night, about 11:30, I think, just before I fell asleep. How about the rest of you? Let’s go around the room. Kay, do you remember when yours was?”

“Yeah, it was this morning in the shower. I had two, using that wand with the pulsating jet spraying right on my clit. It was great.”

Addison, Kay’s daughter, giggled and squirmed with excitement. Although we’d grown accustomed to frank talk about sex and body parts, the girls invariably seemed to enjoy hearing their moms discuss such intimate topics.

Danielle was next in line. “Um, it was last night for me too. In bed, while I was watching, you know, porn on my phone.”

“Lesbian porn?” I asked.

“Well, yeah, duh. That’s all I ever watch.”

Everyone laughed at that, and then Donna said, “It was this morning for me — no, wait, actually I think the last one was a little after 12:00 so it wasn’t still morning. Anyway, I’ve had three so far today. With more to come, I hope.”

“More to come, ha-ha,” Kay quipped.

“Heather, what about you?” I asked.

The pretty twelve-year-old blushed. “Um, this morning in bed. I do that, like, every morning, as soon as I wake up.”

“I do that a lot too,” I told her. “It’s a great way to start the day.”

“Yeah, it is,” said Heather. “It really is.”

“Okay, Cherise, you’re next,” I said. “Do you remember when your last orgasm was?”

“Well, um… last night. You know, in bed before I went to sleep.”

“Uh-huh. Do you that every night? Or just sometimes?”

“Almost every night. Sometimes I don’t. But almost every night.”

“And do you always come? Have an orgasm?”

“Yeah,” the ten-year-old brunette grinned. “I always do.”

“Good, very good. Okay, Addison, how about you? When was your last one?”

“Uh, this morning. After I had breakfast and when I was getting dressed, when I started thinking about what we would do today.”

“All right. So how long ago was that?”

She frowned, wrinkling her nose. “I don’t know. A while ago.”

“Okay, no problem. So, Felicity, when was your last orgasm?”

The little blonde blushed even more deeply than her sister had. “Well, it was last night… except it wasn’t from masturbating.”

“It wasn’t? Were you with Heather?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded.

“Can you tell us about it?”

“Well, it was, you know, with her on top of me, doing that grinding thing. What’s it called…? Tripling?”

“Tribbing,” Heather corrected her.

“That’s right, tribbing,” I said, “from the word ‘tribadism’. Doesn’t matter what it’s called, though. The really important thing is that guys are doing it a lot, and that’s great.”

“Yeah, it is great,” said their mother, Donna, licking her lips.

“Anyway, so today I think we should do a little testing, explore just how good we all are at maintaining control when we masturbate. I’d like to challenge everyone, both the girls and the moms, to get as close as possible without having an orgasm, and then to stay at that level, right on the edge, for as long as you can.”

Heather slowly raised her hand, and I smiled at the girl. “Yes?”

“Why would you want to do that?” she asked. “I mean, like, aren’t orgasms good?”

“Sure, of course they are. They’re great. But orgasms aren’t the only point of having sex, whether with yourself or with others. It’s as much about the process or the journey, the pleasure of arousal, enjoying all the things you can do to make yourself feel good or your partner feel good. Plus, sometimes the anticipation of getting a thing is just as nice as when you finally get it, you know?”

She cocked her head, frowning, not appearing to understand.

“You’ve done this, haven’t you? Edging?” I said, turning to Danielle. When she nodded, I asked her, “So can you tell us what that’s like for you? Maybe you can explain it better than I can.”

“Well, yeah, I actually do it a lot. Last night that’s what I did, in fact, when I was looking at porn. I kept on the edge for like, I don’t know, twenty minutes or something. Maybe longer. I really love how it feels to have that sort of peak, to be almost there, almost there, over and over again. That feels nearly as good as when I finally let myself come. So I do it a lot,” she finished with a shrug and a smile.

“Are you willing to give it a try?” I asked Heather.

“Sure, of course,” she replied, then added with a giggle, “I’ll try anything, almost.”

I didn’t ask her what ‘almost’ might be, though I was curious. Instead, I said, “First let’s just look at each other for a minute. Girls, scoot forward on the sofa and pull up your dress or your little skirt so we can see your undies, okay?”

They did this and I heard approving murmurs and sighs from the women as they gazed at their daughters’ panty-covered crotches.

“Now, moms, you do the same,” I requested, “and I will too.”

The four of us pulled up the hems of our skirts or dresses and spread our legs. This made quite a lovely sight, a big group of girls and women flashing one another.

“Mmm, so nice,” I said. “Look at the different kinds of panties.”

The kids all wore brightly colored cotton undies, some with cartoon images. Addison’s showed Tweety Bird, for example. For me and for most of the women, the choice was satin rather than cotton: mine were purple and Kay’s were black, while Donna’s were powder blue (with a big wet spot plainly showing). Danielle was the exception among us. Her panties were white cotton, in a dainty eyelet pattern.

“Okay, so start rubbing yourselves now,” I told them, “but do it on the outside, through your panties to begin with. And while we’re doing it, let’s talk some more… uh, here’s a question. When you masturbate, how long does it usually take until you come, until you have an orgasm?”

“I’m kinda quick,” said Donna. “Two or three minutes at most. Sometimes even faster.”

“That’s good,” I grinned. “But remember, our aim today is not to come right away. Instead, let’s see how long we can go, getting close but not quite there.”

She chuckled, “All right, I’ll try. But no guarantees.”

“And how about the rest of you?” I asked. “How long does it normally take until you come?”

Kay shrugged. “About five or ten minutes, I guess. Sometimes less, sometimes more. Depends on how turned on I am.”

“I can come pretty fast if I want to,” said Danielle. “But like I said earlier, I do a lot of edging, making it last a long time, stretching it out.”

I smiled at her. “Perfect. You’ll be a good example for the girls, then.”

“I’m fast too,” said Heather. “And I do it a lot, like three or four times a day. I don’t know how long it actually takes ‘cause I never timed it, but I know it’s pretty quick.”

“How about you, Felicity?” I said. “Are you as fast as your sister?”

She shook her head. “No, it takes me longer. Usually she comes like maybe twice before I come even once — when we’re watching each other, I mean.”

“And that’s just fine,” I told the girl. “Orgasms are great, but they’re not the only goal, as I was saying before. The thing we’re working on now, with this edging exercise, is to truly feel and experience all the sensations of bodily arousal without the distraction of having a climax. Okay?”

The little blonde nodded, “Okay,” and kept rubbing herself.

“Oh jeez — shit shit shit — you really want me to stop?!” Donna was panting, fingers moving fast between her legs, face turning red.

“Yes,” I ordered. “Take your hand away now. Back off just a little bit, then start again.”

Reluctantly she obeyed. The wet spot on her panties was even larger now, shiny and gooey. “All right,” she sighed, “but… god, this is hard.”

“I know it is, and that’s the point. We’re learning the practice of discipline, of self-control.”

“Yeah,” injected Danielle, “and once you do finally let yourself go, after putting it off for a long time, the orgasm is incredible.”

“Mine are always incredible,” Donna chuckled, “no matter what.”

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. I’d thought the main difficulty might be in getting the kids to follow instructions, but here it was an adult giving me trouble. Oh well.

“How about you guys, Addison? Cherise?” I went on. “How long does it normally take you to reach climax when you masturbate?”

Cherise said, “I think it sorta takes a while, but I don’t how long exactly. Like ten or fifteen minutes, I guess. I don’t really know.”

Addison didn’t offer any reply, just shrugged and shook her head. The child evidently had no idea how long it took. For her, I gathered, masturbation was not something she gave very much thought to. She just did it automatically, like a reflex.

“All right,” I said, “let’s see if we can get everyone in the group close to coming now, just like Donna was a minute ago, but without going over the top. If you want to, if it helps, feel free to put your hand inside your panties. Just make sure you don’t come yet.”

That’s what we did for the next half hour or so. We sat and played with ourselves, sometimes gazing around the room, watching the others masturbate, and sometimes with eyes closed. It was up to each individual. I cautioned them, however, not to lose focus, to remain consciously attuned to the physical sensations they were experiencing, to truly feel how their body responded to their growing arousal.

We talked about it from time to time, doing our best to describe what we felt going on inside. That would be useful, I thought, in helping everyone stay in control. It seemed to work, though the words and phrases they chose were often quite erotic — “boiling hot” “steamy” “juicy” “dripping wet” “jumpy” “jittery” “like a volcano” “ready to explode” — and this contributed to the rising intensity of sexual excitement.

Donna, of course, had to stop and start numerous times. But I gave her credit. The woman really was trying, and she was succeeding. And she wasn’t the only one who sometimes needed to slow down. I certainly did, and it appeared that most of the others did as well.

Anyway, we did it. No one came, not quite, but by the end of this first exercise we were all right near the edge, our faces flushed, breathing fast, most of us visibly sweating.

“Are you almost there?” I asked, in a shaky voice.

“Uh-huh… uh-huh…” came various murmurs and nods.

“That’s good, that’s great. Now let’s ease off, taper down, and just relax for a few minutes before we go on to the next step.”

Slip slide over to Chapter 22!