Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

 

Note from JetBoy: Here’s something special indeed… the long-awaited second chapter of this excellent mother-daughter story, submitted by the author about two years after the appearance of Part One. Sadly, this took much too long to post, and that’s the fault of yours truly. In my wretched defense, I was far more backed up with new and continuing stories than I am now. Still, it’s a Very Bad Thing to make an author wait this long to see their work in print. Humblest apologies to Pretty Pink Taco.

Now. Seeing as it’s been many moons since the first part appeared here, I’m going to demand that you read Part One before tackling this new installment. Your enjoyment will be greatly enhanced. You can find that chapter here.

***

By Pretty Pink Taco

“Hey hon,” my husband said when he woke me the next morning, sometime around 5 AM. “You fell asleep on the couch.”

“Oh, wow, I didn’t realize,” I yawned, slowly pushing myself upright.

“I’m heading off. I’ll be back around lunch,” he said on his way out. “Don’t have too much fun without me.” We always joked that my husband was the boring and serious one, though more extroverted than I was. He was the Chief of Physicians at the local hospital, and over the years we’d attend all sorts of banquets and galas in town. Everyone knew our family, we had strong ties to the community.

My oldest son Trevor was a lot like him. Brandon, my youngest, was sweet and sensitive. Claire was my wild child — strong, assertive, passionate. She’d taught me a few things over the years.

I looked at the portrait of us next to the Christmas tree from a couple of years ago and smiled to myself. My husband and I sat front and center, while my children stood behind us; all dressed in black. I felt grateful that we were actually as happy as we looked. We had no real scandals or secrets, no affairs or heavy substance abuse.

Well, except for the fact that I had secretly been having sex with my daughter for the last few years. Also with many of the wives and women in town; sometimes with my husband, sometimes without. Everyone was happy, but no one was happier than me.

Heading upstairs to bed, I remembered the day that I found Claire in bed with me, sucking on my breasts.

***

10 years prior

“Get off of me!… Ow!… Stop it!” was all I could hear in the kitchen as I cleaned up the lunch dishes and my kids attempted to murder each other in the living room. Eight, eleven and fifteen, God help me.

“Mom!… Shut up!… No, I didn’t!” I couldn’t tell who was yelling what.

“Trevor!” I screamed without even looking behind me. That was my oldest son’s cue to separate his younger siblings and keep the peace.

I hadn’t said a word to Claire all morning and all throughout lunch, and she didn’t say anything to me. We could barely look at each other.

“It’s Mommy Hour,” I said as I loaded the dishwasher, then headed upstairs for a nice long bath. No one could come looking for or bother me during that time. “If one of you dies during Mommy Hour, I won’t know until the end of Mommy Hour, understand?” I’d told them that a few years back, so they knew the drill.

I ran the water for my bath and undressed in front of the mirror. I touched my nipples, where Claire’s tongue had been. I couldn’t get it out of my head, what she’d done. Cupping one breast with both hands, I sucked at one nipple, then the other. I swore I could still smell her on me.

As soon as I got in the bath, I began to rub my clit roughly. I wasn’t in control of my thoughts anymore, I was obsessed with Claire, thinking about her in her bikini, about her long slender legs, so perfectly smooth. I needed her, I needed to touch her. I thought about her nipples and budding breasts, and how they made my mouth water. I thought about all of the opportunities I’d had to make her mine, and how reluctant I’d been to move forward.

Claire wanted me, I knew that for certain. But she was my little girl, and it was my job to protect her, not take her as a lover. But I couldn’t fight these feelings, not any more. I didn’t want to wait until the next time… maybe there wouldn’t even be a next time, not after the way I reacted to her earlier that morning.

“Hon?” my husband knocked at the master bathroom door.

“Come in,” I told him.

“Mommy Hour?” he smiled.

“Yes, they were driving me crazy.”

“I’ll get them off your hands here soon. You can have the house to yourself, we’re going to the mall and then the movies,” he said kindly, “Maybe you can call a friend and go out.”

“I’ll see. Claire’s not going. She and I need to have a talk about her behavior this morning.”

“Understood,” he nodded, never questioning my parenting. He was more of a disciplinarian than me, so he knew that when I was upset, it meant something.

Ten minutes later, I heard Claire’s bedroom door slam. Shortly after that, I heard the garage door open and close again. It was so loud that we joked about there being an earthquake each time it got used. But it gave us a good notification that someone was either coming or going.

I got out of the tub, drained it, then headed downstairs in my robe to make sure no one was home but Claire and me.

No one was. I went back upstairs to Claire’s room and opened the door.

“Claire?” She was lying on her back, then turned away from me when I came in. “We need to talk.”

“I’m already being punished,” she cried angrily, “What else do you want from me?”

I closed the door behind me and walked over to the other side of her bed, then knelt on the floor next to where she lay. Claire’s eyes were red and wet from crying.

Gently stroking her hair, I leaned in close. “Mommy wants a kiss,” I whispered, and pressed my lips to her pouty wet ones. She stared up at me in utter shock as I leaned in for another kiss, then another. After the third one, she began to kiss me back. Our lips met over and over again.

“Open your mouth,” I murmured.

Claire parted her lips, allowing my tongue to slip between them. She opened her mouth a little further, then met my tongue with hers. I was so nervous, my heart racing like it could give out at any second.

My daughter’s arms slid around my back as she thrust her tongue into my mouth. I was shocked by her boldness, but more turned on than ever.

“Mmmm,” I crooned into our kiss, pushing Claire back towards the pillow as I climbed onto the bed, hovering over my child’s body.

I explored her mouth with my tongue, and she explored mine. My daughter kissed me like a grown woman, and I wondered how she’d learned to do that.

I laid down on top of Claire, then shifted to one side, allowing my left hand to caress her face and shoulders. We continued to kiss hungrily, feasting on each other.

Finally, I broke away. “Did you like sucking on Mommy’s titties this morning, baby?” I asked her, then our mouths met again.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded between kisses.

Placing my hand on Claire’s chest, I cupped her little breasts through the thin t-shirt she wore. She was so beautiful. I felt so lucky. How many mothers got to love their little girls like this?

I rested a hand on her hip, then slipped it beneath my daughter’s shirt, caressing her soft tummy as we continued to kiss.

Suddenly breaking away, Claire exclaimed, “Wait!” and began to sit up.

I immediately withdrew, nervous that she might be frightened — perhaps enough to tell my husband what I’d just done. How on earth would I explain something like this to him?

“We — we can stop if you want to…” I stammered, now on my knees next to her.

Claire said nothing, just reached for the tie of my robe and gave it a sharp tug, causing it to part down the middle. As I gaped at my daughter, she pushed the robe off my shoulders, leaving me naked before her. I was frozen to the spot as Claire paused to admire me for a moment, her gaze lingering on my bare pussy. Could she see the wetness oozing down my inner thighs?

Working her t-shirt up over her head, Claire tossed it to the floor, baring her own chest. I licked my lips at the sight of my daughter’s budding breasts, capped by visibly erect nipples. I wondered if she’d take off her shorts too, but she didn’t. Perhaps she was waiting for me to do that.

We looked at each other for a long time. My child and I both realized how far gone we were, knowing there would be no turning back — not after this.

I made the first move, leaning forward to lick her left bud, flicking and teasing the nipple with my tongue before moving to the right one. This time I took the entire breast in my mouth and sucked. Claire reached out to place a quivering hand on my breast. She fondled it, then began to play with my nipple. Her fingers were clumsy, but my little girl’s touch turned me on more than anything ever had.

“Kiss me, Claire,” I told her.

She wrapped both arms around my neck and pressed her body against mine as our mouths met once more, tongues engaging in a heated dance.

Taking my daughter by the waist, I drew her slender frame closer to me and laid her down on the bed. We kissed again, more tenderly this time. My breasts were pressing against hers. As our kisses gradually ceased, I gazed into those enchanting brown eyes.

“I like this,” Claire announced — then giggled, her cheeks flushing slightly.

“You do? Have you thought about kissing me?” I asked. She nodded. “What else have you thought about?”

“I dunno,” she shrugged, then smiled.

“Licking my nipples?” I whispered, teasing her.

“Mom, have you ever kissed a girl before?” she asked me. I snuggled her closer to me and rested my head next to hers. I wasn’t sure if I should lie or tell the truth.

Finally, I said, “A few… have you?”

“Only Kayla,” she replied with a little shrug. “We kiss sometimes. She showed me her boobs, they’re big. She wears a bra.”

Kayla was her best friend, the daughter of my husband’s closest surgeon colleague, Russell Morgan, at the hospital. They were one of the few black families in the area and very well respected within the community. His wife, Laurel, owned a high-end spa in town.

“Did you kiss her nipples?”

“No, but I wanted to,” she admitted. Bending down, Claire found my breast with her mouth. As her tongue circled the tip, I stroked her hair and ran my fingers up and down her bare chest.

“Nobody can know about this, Claire,” I told her sternly. “We shouldn’t even be doing it — but since we are, it’s got to be kept secret. It would be bad for us both if–”

“I know,” she said, latching off for a second, “I wouldn’t want anyone to find out that I like being naked with my mom, kissing her, and sucking on her boobies.” She smiled. “I do like it, though. A lot!”

“I love it,” I said and kissed her forehead as her lips found my other breast.

***

About a week later, Claire had Kayla over. Kayla practically lived at our house and she was so well behaved, we were more than happy to have her.

“Hi, Kayla. How was your vacation?” I asked the chocolate-skinned beauty, who was seated next to my daughter on the couch of the family room.

“Good, Mrs. Schaffer,” she replied politely.

“Did you visit your grandma?” I asked, although I already knew the answer.

“Yes,” she responded. My daughter started nudging Kayla’s legs, trying to get her attention. I walked by them and into the kitchen. I didn’t really need anything. In fact, my objective was to eavesdrop.

“Stop it, your mother is right there!” I heard Kayla whisper. She was a good girl, especially in comparison to my naughty one.

“Mom! Can Kayla spend the night?” Claire called out.

My heart raced. I pictured Kayla and my daughter running around the house in their bikinis, like they normally did, then imagined them undressing, sharing kisses and fondling each other while I listened through the wall, rubbing my pussy until I passed out. “Mom?!”

“No, it’s too short notice,” I told her, almost on autopilot.

“Please, Mommy?” she begged, her voice gone quiet.

I walked back into the family room and found both girls sitting farther apart from where they’d been just a moment ago.

“Oh, I suppose. But only if your mom says it’s okay,” I told Kayla.

“Yes!” Leaping to her feet, Claire jumped up and down on the couch.

“Claire! No feet on the couch!” I scolded. She just continued to bounce. I walked over and stood directly in front of her, arms folded. “Claire…”

“Thank you, Mom!” she cried, wrapping both arms around my neck. Almost losing my balance, I grabbed at Claire, and our bodies suddenly came together. I was almost embracing her. She didn’t speak, just rested her forehead against mine, and I suddenly wondered if she intended to kiss me,

A surge of helpless arousal went through me, and I realized that I wanted to kiss my daughter — even with Kayla watching. Maybe because she was watching.

“I — I’m going to go finish up the dishes,” I murmured, our noses still touching.

“No,” Claire pouted before kissing me, lip to lip. She stared into my eyes, letting me know it was okay. She kissed me again, and this time I kissed her back, letting my hands slide down to cup her ass.

Throwing caution to the winds, I opened my mouth first and let my tongue dart between Claire’s lips. She eagerly returned my kiss, her own tongue engaging mine. I stole a quick peek at Kayla, who stared at us, wide-eyed and curious. We locked eyes and as we did, I lovingly fondled Claire’s ass, making sure that she saw me.

Finally breaking away, Claire began to jump on the couch again, gleefully chanting, “Oh, boy, Kayla’s gon-na spend the night, we’re gon-na have a su-per fun time…”

I smiled at my daughter’s friend. “Do you want a kiss, too, Kayla?” She glanced at Claire, then at me. After a moment, she gave a hesitant nod.

“No, she’s okay,” Claire told me, looking as if she was feeling a little jealous.

“Claire! Let your friend speak for herself. She already said that she does,” I told her.

Suddenly my husband’s voice was heard from the top of the stairs. “Claire, come let the dog out!”

“Later!” Claire called out impatiently.

“Now! Or else you’ll be going to bed early tonight, and I’ll drive Kayla home,” he sternly replied.

With an annoyed huff, Claire stalked up the stairs, scowling for all she was worth. Now it was just Kayla and me.

I sat down beside her on the couch. “You’re beautiful,” I told her, my heart racing.

“Thanks,” she said shyly, twiddling her thumbs nervously in her lap.

“Sit up, and I’ll give you that kiss,” I said, smiling at Kayla.

Did I dare to do this? My daughter’s best friend, the child of my husband’s friend, a girl of eleven. I’d be shamed forever and probably get jail time if it got out, but damn it all, Kayla was too desirable to resist.

Getting up to kneel on the couch, Kayla slowly drew closer to me. I was fine with that, wanting her to do as much of the work as possible.

“Sweet girl,” I told her, placing an arm across the couch cushions. She had full lips and cute dimples in her cheeks. I eased the child into my lap, and it made her giggle.

“Show me how you kiss Claire,” I whispered.

Her eyes grew warm and seductive. That’s when I knew that Kayla shared my desire. Leaning forward, she brought her mouth to mine. When I began to respond, her tongue emerged to lick at my lips. I slipped my tongue into her mouth and her lips parted to welcome me.

She was a perfect little girl, and that made it feel what we were doing even more wrong than it was. I couldn’t break away from her, though.

I pulled away and gazed into those puppy-dog eyes. “I won’t tell anyone about you and Claire kissing and having special fun together.”

“Okay.” Kayla’s gaze fell to her lap.

“I like you a lot,” I told her, trailing a strand of her soft, wavy hair between my fingers.

“I –- I like you, too,” she said, her voice whispery quiet. “Me and Claire… we both do.”

“You’re such a sweet girl,” I whispered, aching to undress her.

“I’m back! I’m back!” Claire shouted, bouncing down the carpeted stairs from the ground level. “Mommy, can we throw a sleepover party tonight down here? We can get the sleeping bags, and do our makeup and nails, eat candy and–”

“Okay, okay, calm down. Kayla still needs to get permission from her parents.”

“Can you ask them, Mom?” Claire begged. “It’ll be way better, coming from you. Please?” Kayla quickly nodded.

Just like that, I was on the phone a few minutes later with Kayla’s mother. “Hi, Laurel… how are you?”

I listened, then got to the point. “That’s great to hear. We’re all well, too. Listen, the girls are looking to have a little slumber party for two, and we were wondering if it was all right with you if Kayla spent the night. I can have her back tomorrow after lunch… Oh, yes, you and I need to get together, too.”

The girls started cheering and jumping up and down. I left the room, cordless phone in hand, to continue our chat. “Just promise me you’ll take Claire off my hands for a night or two in the coming months,” I told Laurel, only half kidding. “How’s Charlie?”

***

I went a little overboard when prepping for the slumber party. My conscience nagged me about how wrong it all was, but my pussy was wet from thinking about the possibilities, what might happen between me and the girls. I hit the supermarket for a variety of snacks, then found myself scheduling a last minute bikini wax.

After an evening of pizza, snacks, dancing, gossip, and horseplay, the girls began to wind down with a movie. Before then I was in and out, bringing them drinks and popcorn and making sure the rest of my family was fed and off to their own rooms for the evening.

I put on some of my sexiest underwear, then descended the stairs in my silk robe at around 10 PM.

“How are things going, ladies?” I asked.

“Fine,” they responded in unison. They were seated on the floor, leaning back against the plush sofa.

“Hey, Mom, come hang with us!” said Claire. “We’re watching a scary movie.”

I sat on the floor between both girls, wrapping my arms around them. They snuggled into me, and I began to gently fondle them through the thin t-shirts they wore. Kayla had small but firm breasts, while Claire’s weren’t much more than swollen nipples. My clitoris throbbed; my heart raced.

After a few minutes, I withdrew my arms, then placed a hand on each girl’s thigh. I stroked them for a bit, then my fingers found their way in between to lightly touch the fronts of their panties. Claire clamped her legs together tightly, gripping my hand, while Kayla opened her legs wider to welcome my caresses.

We talked about the movie while we watched it as if nothing were happening. I could feel the girls’ panties dampening, felt them shiver as I traced their slits.

After a while, I sat up, taking back my hands. “I’m going to go check on the boys,” I told them, rising to my feet.

“No, Mom,” Claire protested.

“I’ll be back,” I said as I exited the room. “I just want to make sure that we won’t be interrupted.”

Sure enough, both my sons were sound asleep, and my husband had passed out with an open book on his chest. I turned all of the lights off in the living room and kitchen and made sure the doors were locked, then made my way back to the family room. Thankfully, the girls were right where I’d left them.

“I’m back… so how’s the movie?” Neither of them answered, but Kayla shrugged. “You girls okay?”

“Yeah,” Claire replied. “We were just waiting for you.”

“Good.” I let my robe fall open, giving the girls a good view of my matching black lace bra and panties. Their eyes followed me as I sat back down in between them.

“Mommy, can I get in your lap?” Claire asked me shyly. It was odd of her to be this quiet.

“First, I’d like to see you and Kayla kiss.”

They came together. It was a beautiful sight, my eleven-year-old daughter’s mouth touching the full lips of her darling, luscious friend. Their tongues danced and plunged deep into each other’s mouths as if they’d done this many, many times before.

Needing to do more than watch, I leaned in to join the kiss, tasting the sweetness of their tongues. We swapped kisses for a long while, our passion steadily rising.

Finally, I pulled back and they both grinned at me eagerly, ready for whatever came next. “Claire, honey,” I began, ”could you take Kayla’s shirt off?”

My daughter turned to her friend. “That’s okay, right?” I asked her. Kayla nodded.

Beneath her shirt, Kayla wore a baby blue bra that outlined the girl’s puffy nipples.

“Kayla, would you take off Claire’s tank top?” Kayla leaned in, but my impatient daughter quickly took the top off herself and cast it aside, revealing her bare chest and budding mounds. The sight made my mouth water, even though I’d seen Clare naked many times.

I patted my thighs. “Now, Kayla, come sit on my lap.”

“Mo-om!” Claire protested. “That’s not fair! I asked first.”

“It’s okay, let Claire go ahead,” Kayla said.

I gave my daughter a stern look. “Sweetheart, you have to learn how to take turns. Now, Kayla is our guest, so we should be polite and let her go first. All right?”

Looking somewhat abashed, Claire slowly nodded. “All right, Mom.”

I turned to her friend. “Kayla, come sit on my lap, honey, facing me,” I leaned back against the couch and laid my legs out flat to allow her to straddle me, then turned to my daughter.

“Come here, Claire,” I called out to my naughty girl, giving her a loving look. She quickly drew close. “Kiss me, baby,” I whispered to her and she crushed her lips to mine. Our tongues met and mingled, then I broke away. “Now, kiss Kayla.” Claire leaned over and gave her friend a long kiss.

While they kissed, I reached down toward Kayla’s shorts and pressed my fingers against the front, feeling her pussy through the fabric, which was already damp. I traced the outline of her warm hole.

“Claire, take off Kayla’s bra,” I told her. Both girls giggled, then my daughter quickly crawled behind Kayla, unhooked her bra, and pulled the straps down her arms.

Kayla’s small breasts drove me crazy with desire. They were like those of a young teen – an unusual sight on such a thin girl.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I told Kayla, stroking her face. She smiled bashfully, glancing down at my chest.

“Whoa, your boobies are big!” Claire told Kayla, making her laugh and cover them with her hands.

“What do you want to do to Kayla?” I asked Claire as I continued to tease Kayla’s clitoris with my thumb.

“Uhm, I want to kiss her boobs,” she responded eagerly.

We both looked at Kayla until she slowly lowered her hands, exposing her puffy nipples, which were ringed by dark areolas. Moving in immediately, Claire began to suck on Kayla’s left breast. The sweet black girl’s lips parted, a moan escaping as she began to stroke my daughter’s soft, long hair.

I moved in myself, cupping her right breast, then feeding the nipple into my mouth. I sucked on it sharply, and heard a gasp escape Kayla’s mouth. I continued to touch between her legs, making sure she was still wet.

“You’re so lucky,” Claire told Kayla, as she looked up from her friend’s breasts, “I want big boobs, too.”

“Come sit on my lap, darling, and let’s see yours,” I told Claire, holding my arms out. She sat with her back to me and I snuggled her into my chest, trailing kisses down her neck. I caressed those firm little breasts, giving their tips a playful pinch.

“Do you want Kayla to suck your nipples?” I asked Claire, and she nodded.

“Cool!” Kayla exclaimed, and she leaned in to lick Claire’s small buds in turn. She cupped them, one in each hand, then took a stiff nipple between her lips.

“Take your panties off, baby… show Kayla your pussy,” I whispered in Claire’s ear as I slid her shorts down. Lifting her butt, she took hold of the waistband, pushing it over her hips, my daughter and me working together to strip her naked.

My heart was throbbing with anticipation. I’d already had my beautiful little girl… now, she was going to share her lover with me. Life was good.

Present Day

“Mom, when are the boys supposed to be here?” twenty-one-year-old Claire asked me as I began to take the food out for dinner. It was winter break, Claire’s first night back from her senior year of college. It was still early in the morning, and she was in her pajamas. I wondered if she had anything on underneath.

“Good morning, honey,” I responded. “Brandon and his girlfriend will be here around noon. Trevor won’t be in until the evening.”

“When’s Dad getting back?”

“He’ll be back around noon as well.”

“So, um, we have a few hours to ourselves, then…?”

“I suppose we do.” I smiled at her calmly, but in fact I‘d been anxious for my daughter to awaken and put in an appearance. If she hadn’t come down, I’d planned to go up to her room once my work was done in the kitchen. “Go upstairs without me, honey. I’ll be up soon.”

Five minutes later, I entered her room and locked the door behind me.

“You know the rules, Mom,” Claire said to me as I turned around. When she was fourteen, she came up with a rule that if I was to be in her room with the door locked, I had to be completely undressed.

“Yes, yes,” I said, removing my sweater, my pants, and then my bra. I hadn’t bothered with panties.

“Bend over the bed and spread your legs open,” she commanded, busy rustling through her luggage.

I positioned myself the way Claire wanted, my ass sticking up in the air. God, I loved to have her dominate me.

“I got you something,” she murmured, making her way over to where I stood. She ran her hands over my ass, then slapped my pussy a few times, making my clit twitch.

Feeling a cool, lubed metal object prodding my asshole, I forced my anus to relax, allowing her to fully penetrate me.

Once Claire had fully inserted the butt plug, she clutched my hips with both hands – then I felt her tongue trailing along the cleft of my slit. Seconds later, she was eagerly sucking on my hot cunt.

“Mmmm, you taste so fucking good,” she growled into my tingling labia, then she roughly shoved me onto the bed. That was when I realized that the butt plug had a long white furry tail attached. For some reason, that turned me on in a big way, as if it was Claire’s way of making me her pet.

“Get on all fours, kitty,” she said, slapping my ass. Hopping into bed and leaning against the headboard, my daughter spread her legs open before me. She was completely naked with her long, dirty blonde hair spilling over her full breasts.

“Lick me, kitty,” she whispered, tapping on her pussy a few times, spreading herself even wider.

I immediately drew forward, buried my mouth in Claire’s wet, pink flesh, and began to devour her beautiful cunt.

“I said lick, kitty… not suck!” she protested, but I kept sucking at her juicy hole. She gave my head a little smack. “Stop it! Bad kitty!”

Gripping her hips tightly, I just pressed my mouth into her even harder, drinking from my daughter like I was dying of thirst.

“You’re such a dirty slut, Mommy,” she called out between moans. “Can’t even follow instructions. So horny and d-desperate to eat your little girl’s pussy, aren’t you?”

Instead of a reply, I shoved two fingers in Claire’s wet hole, pumping them in and out of her as I nursed at her swollen clit.

“Fuck, Mom,” she squealed. “Oh, my God!” She began to tremble beneath me. I only fucked her harder, getting a little rougher with each stroke. Her shaking got more intense, and I knew that she was about to come.

“That’s it, baby, come for Momma!” I gasped, detaching myself from her clit for a split second, then going right back in.

“Oh, Mommy, oh, Mommy!” she cried, squeezing my head. Claire exploded in my face, her warm fluids flowing into my mouth and down my chin. Pulling away, I used my fingers to get the last few squirts of my daughter’s nectar, my other hand still working her clit. The juices trickled down my chest and to my breasts.

Claire lay still and caught her breath for a minute, panting heavily against her pillow. Finally, she raised her head, giving me a look that had my heart galloping. My daughter was about to punish me, and it was going to be incredible.

“You’re really gonna get it now, you naughty kitty,” she said, getting up from the bed and padding into her closet. My pussy was dripping, eager for whatever was coming next. I loved having sex with Claire… she was always full of surprises.

She walked out of the closet with a hot pink strap-on harnessed to her hips.

“Get over here, kitty. You’re about to get fucked,” she told me, seizing my ankles, then pushing my legs up and back until they were pressed against my breasts. I said nothing, impatient for her to take me.

Claire made me come at least twice with that rubber dick, pumping it in and out until my body seemed to be pulsing with electricity.

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck, YES!” I screamed. Claire turned me around and fucked me from behind as she pulled on that tail dangling from my ass. Then she came around and shoved her cock in my mouth, making me clean my juices off of it before throwing me on my back and fucking me all over again.

“I love you, Mom,” Claire said to me once we were done, lying in each other’s arms.

“I love you, darling,” I told her, guiding her face to my chest. She sucked on my breasts, the way she’d always loved to, while I tenderly stroked her pussy.

Finally, Claire rested her head on my shoulder. “Who was the last woman you fucked?” she asked.

“Hmm,” I thought in my head. My husband and I were both very active swingers in the community. There was a large sex network behind the scenes that no one spoke about – out loud, anyway.

“It was this new school teacher in town named Ms. Daniels. Actually, she’s been here a couple of years now, but I don’t think you know her.”

“No, I don’t. Does Dad know?”

“Oh, he was there. He enjoyed her too,” I smirked, stroking my daughter’s soft hair.

“I sometimes forget what total freaks my parents are,” she said with a laugh.

“Runs in the family,” I said, then glanced at the clock. “I need to get started on dinner now. Um, hon… can you help me take this tail off?”

Claire burst into a fit of laughter.

The End

by BlueJean

I was woken by the noisy cockerel who lived on the neighbouring farm, as I was most mornings. I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs to be greeted by an odd sight.

Having consumed more than her share of wine, Sadie had spent the night on our couch and was sound asleep, a quilt half-covering her nakedness.

Millie was seated on the floor, stroking her teacher’s hair and softly singing a strange lullaby.

Rest tired eyes a while
Sweet is thy baby’s smile
Angels are guarding and they watch o’er thee

Sleep, sleep, grah mo chree
Your sorrows we do see
Angels are guarding and they watch o’er thee

The birdeens sing a fluting song
They sing to thee the whole day long
Wee fairies dance o’er hill and dale
For very love of thee

I hadn’t taught her that song. Perhaps Sadie had at school.

Was Millie sleepwalking again? I was getting increasingly worried about her. She was saying and doing strange things and I had no idea where it was all coming from.

“Sleep, my daughter,” Millie whispered, still gazing at Sadie.

When I put my weight on the squeaky stair, Millie turned toward me.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Mummy,” she said, her face half concealed in shadow.

“I didn’t say you were, sweetie. Who taught you that nice song?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Millie shook her head. She reached out to gently poke Sadie’s cheek, then giggled.

“Don’t poke your teacher, you don’t know where she’s been,” I said, pulling back the curtains.

“Who’s poking who?” Sadie mumbled, struggling to open her eyes.

“Miss Laine, why did you sleep on our sofa last night?” Millie asked.

“I had too much lemonade, Millie Newton,” Sadie groaned.

Freya came down the stairs and gave me a sheepish look. I wasn’t sure how much she had seen or heard last night, but knew that we would need to have a talk about it at some point.

“Good morning, elder daughter,” I said to her as she shuffled towards the kitchen.

“Uh, morning,” she replied without looking back at me.

“What’s up with her?” Sadie said as she sat up and wrapped the quilt around her nude body. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor.

“Freya’s always grumpy in the morning,” Millie explained.

“Mum!” Freya shouted from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“Bee’s done a poo on the kitchen floor!”

“Oh, lovely,” I said and headed into the kitchen.

Bee was lying on the floor sphinx-like, her ears pricked up, mesmerised by the turd three inches in front of her.

Freya recoiled as if it was going to rear up and attack her. “I’m not cleaning it up! I don’t do poo!” she declared.

Sadie and Millie came into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

“All right, relax, it’s only… hold on…” I moved closer to the offending deposit.

If it was poo, it was certainly the spikiest one I’d ever seen. I looked closer.

“Oh, my goodness. It’s a baby hedgehog,” I said.

“Is it?” Freya said and stepped closer to the spiky little ball.

I figured that Bee must have very gently picked it up from outside when Millie had let her out into the garden for her morning ablutions, then carried it into the kitchen where it sat curled up in a defensive ball.

“Ahhh, it’s so cute!” Millie gushed, squatting down to get a good look at the poor creature.

“Aww, where’s its mum?” Sadie said.

“Take it outside and put it under the hedge, Millie. We’ll leave it some water and a bit of dog food, and hopefully it’ll find its way back to its mother,” I said. Millie carefully picked up the hedgehog and carried it out into the garden.

After Sadie had got dressed and taken some Alka-Seltzer for her inevitable hangover, she headed home, then the girls and I went out for our morning walk across the fields and through the woods.

The morning mist had left pearly drops of moisture hanging upon spiderwebs, their shimmering gossamer threads draped between the bushes and trees. The call of a red deer stag marking out his territory roared in the distance somewhere.

While Millie was off exploring in the forest with Bee, I decided that this would be a good time to have a little chat with Freya.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” I began.

“What do you mean?” Freya said, kicking a pine cone across the ground.

“I know you were watching Sadie and me. I could see you.”

“Did Miss Laine see me, too?” Freya asked, looking mortified at the thought.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Phew.”

“So why were you watching us?” I asked her.

“I just… I heard noises and wondered what you were doing, that’s all,” Freya told me, her face flushed a bright pink.

“Were you shocked when you saw us?”

Freya shrugged. “Yeah, a bit, I suppose.”

“But you enjoyed watching, right?” I said, wondering if I really needed to be asking her that.

Freya nodded. She picked up the pine cone and pretended to inspect it to hide her embarrassment.

“I don’t think your teacher would appreciate one of her pupils watching her masturbate,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure that was true.

“Sorry,” Freya said.

I put my arm around her. “But I don’t mind if you want to watch me.”

Did I actually just say that? Why did I say it?

Freya looked up at me. “Really?”

“Really,” I said and squeezed her shoulder. Too late to take it back now.

“Really really?”

“Really really.”

“Really really really?!”

“Really really really!” We both laughed.

I looked at her and made a decision. A bad one, probably. “Why don’t you come to my room tonight when Millie’s asleep and I’ll let you watch me again.”

“Okay, then,” Freya said and did that embarrassed little chuckle through her nose.

Me and my big mouth.

Millie and Bee came crashing through the ferns.

“Mummy and Freya! Come and look at what we found!” Millie shouted, and we followed her into the trees.

She led us to a patch of forest that was covered in cup-shaped mushrooms, orange on the outside and a deep red within. They were called scarlet elf cups, I remembered, although I thought they only grew in the winter months and early spring.

“Wow, good find,” I said to Millie, bending down to inspect the brightly coloured fungi. I put Bee on her lead in case she tried to sample the mushrooms. I was pretty sure they weren’t poisonous, but they probably wouldn’t do her much good either.

“That’s not what I wanted to show you, Mummy. Look!” Millie exclaimed, and I walked over to where she was pointing.

Hidden amongst the trees was some kind of structure made of grey, weathered stone, half-destroyed but still recognisable.

“What is it, Mum?” Freya asked me.

“It’s an old fireplace. I think someone must have lived here once,” I said, amazed.

I had a look around. The rest of the building was long gone, but as I cleared away some of the ferns and brambles, I found the remains of four corner posts that had mostly been eaten away by rot, but were still protruding a couple of inches above the ground. The hut had been very small, probably just a single room, and I guessed the walls would have been made from wattle and daub, which would have decayed long ago.

“Goodness me, a hut in the woods. How mysterious!” I said, intrigued. Who could have been living out here in the forest?

“Mum, Millie’s acting weird again,” Freya said, gesturing towards her sister.

Millie had placed her hands on the remains of the fireplace and had zoned out.

“Millie?” I said to her, and she turned to me with a startled look.

“She just made medicine for sick people, Mummy. She didn’t hurt anyone. She didn’t,” Millie told me, clearly distressed.

Not knowing what else to do, I knelt down and took her face in my hands. “Millie, come back to us.”

“Huh?”

“You’re scaring Mummy. I don’t know where you keep going but I need you here with me, okay?” I told her.

“Okay,” Millie said, her eyes solemn.

“No more deer hugging or Dryads,” I said and tweaked her nose, trying to lighten the mood.

“Someone left flowers,” Freya said and pointed inside the fireplace.

Someone had indeed left an offering, and recently. The bunch of flowers were dried and shrivelled, but couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old. I didn’t want to think about who had left them or why, I just wanted to be away from this place.

“Let’s go home,” I said to the girls and we left the ruined hut and its mysteries behind.

***

Mum sent Millie and me up to the shops to buy bread, milk and some eggs and so we took a shortcut through one of the fields where some farm workers were busy making bales of hay. Last year, Mum and Miss Laine had helped with the hay making, hoofing the heavy bales while Millie and me sat on the back of a big trailer that was being pulled around by a tractor.

We waved to the workers and they waved back.

It was another hot day and I had my sunhat on but Millie had brought her little pink and white parasol instead, to keep her shaded from the sun.

“Millie, can you keep a secret?” I asked my sister as we climbed over a stile and headed towards the village green.

“Yeah, I’m really good at keeping secrets. Except that one time I told Mummy about you flashing your kitty, but you didn’t say that was a secret so it doesn’t count.”

I was dying to tell someone about what I had seen and Millie was probably the only person I could almost trust. “I saw Mum and Miss Laine doing rude things last night,” I told her. Telling secrets was so satisfying.

“What sort of rude things?” Millie asked me.

“They were touching themselves in front of each other.”

Millie looked at me suspiciously. “Are you telling lies?”

“No, I’m not, I swear. Mum had no trousers on and Miss Laine had her skirt pulled up and they both had their knickers down.”

“Did you see Miss Laine’s kitty?”

“Not really, her leg was in the way, but they were touching their kitties and saying rude things to each other.”

“Wow, I wish I’d seen it too,” Millie said, twirling her parasol.

“But that’s not even the best bit. Mum saw me watching and I thought she’d definitely tell me off, but she didn’t. Well, not really. She just said Miss Laine wouldn’t like me spying on her. But then — and I’m not lying here, okay? — Mum said I could watch her touch herself again if I wanted.”

I didn’t want to tell her that I’d be doing it that night, because I knew she wouldn’t go to sleep and probably even follow me to Mum’s room.

“That’s not fair. Why can’t I watch, too?” Millie said, pouting.

“You’re not old enough really, but one day Mum might let you,” I told my sister and felt very mature for saying it.

“It’s still not fair,” Millie said. I hoped she wouldn’t sulk for too long.

The post office was the only shop left in the village and Mum said that it had to start selling all kinds of different things otherwise it wouldn’t be able to make enough money to stay open anymore. The post mistress, Mrs. Jeffries, was a roly poly lady (Mum says it’s not nice to call people fat) who was really funny and friendly but always had something wrong with her and liked to tell everyone about it.

“‘Ello girls! Come to pinch all my stuff, have you?” Mrs. Jeffries said as we entered the shop.

Millie giggled.

“Hi, Mrs. Jeffries, how are you?” I said, then remembered that asking Mrs. Jeffries how she was is not a good idea. Well, it was too late now.

“Been shitting through the eye of a needle all day, I have! Bloody venison last night went straight through me, it did. I said to Mr. Jeffries it would. ‘Too bloody rich’, I says to him. ‘You know I can’t be eating rich food like that, Jeff’, I says. Shat so much I gave myself a headache, I did!”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” I said, trying not to laugh.

And yes, Mrs. Jeffries’ husband is actually called Jeffrey Jeffries. I don’t know what his parents were thinking.

Millie had noticed a canary that was perched in a cage on the shop counter. “Whose bird is this, Mrs. Jeffries?” she asked.

“Oh, it belonged to an old lady that Jeff used to do some work for, but she died so he brought it back home,” Mrs. Jeffries explained.

“Is it yours now, then?”

“I suppose it is, Millie, yeah.”

“Why is it in a cage?”

“It’d fly away if it weren’t, ya daft girl!” Mrs. Jeffries told my sister and laughed.

Millie didn’t find it funny though. “You should let it go. It’s not nice to keep it in a cage.”

“It wouldn’t last a day, Millie. It’s probably never been outside that cage in its life.”

“How much will you sell it to me for?” Millie asked.

“I can’t sell it to you, dear. Mr. Jeffries would be ever so angry with me if I did.”

Millie pulled out the five pound note that Mum had given us for the shopping and offered it to Mrs. Jeffries. “I’ll pay you £5 for it.”

Mrs. Jeffries crossed her arms. “It’s not for sale, my lovely. ‘Ave a bag of sweets instead.”

Millie looked at her little folded parasol sadly, then put it on the counter along with the money. “I really like this umbrella but you can have it and the £5 too for the bird, okay?”

Mrs Jeffries looked like she was at her wits end. “I can’t sell the bird to you, Millie! Be a good girl now.”

“That money’s for the shopping, Millie,” I said to my sister and she looked like she was going to cry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon,” Millie told the canary and then handed me the money. “I’m going home,” she said to me, then stormed out of the shop.

“What’s got into her?” Mrs Jeffries asked me.

“Sorry, she’s been acting weird lately,” I told her.

When I got home with the shopping, Millie was washing Mum’s Beetle with a big sponge. I could barely see her through all the soap bubbles.

“Why’s Millie washing your car?” I asked Mum in the kitchen as she put away the things I’d bought.

“She asked me for little jobs she could do for some pocket money. I even had to haggle with her,” Mum said, pointing to a piece of paper on the worktop.

I went over to take a look. It was done in Millie’s handwriting and read:

1 wash mummies car = £2.20
2 water veggingtables and flowers = £1.75
3 shampoo bee and trim her claws = £1.45
4 hang washing out = £1
5 hoover hole house = £2.50
6 massarge mummy = 80p (Mum got a good deal there)

I knew what my sister was trying to do and I was kind of proud of her. So I helped her hang the laundry out because it was hard for her to reach the washing line, then I held Bee for her while she lathered her with doggy shampoo and cut her nails.

By the time Millie had finished hoovering round the house, she looked absolutely exhausted. I put the hoover away for her and Mum gave her the pocket money she’d earned.

Millie looked at her watch. “I have to go to the post office before it closes,” she said to me.

“You won’t make it in time, even if you run all the way,” I told her. “But I have an idea.”

I took her on my bike, pedalling it up the road as fast as I could while Millie sat in the front basket, her legs dangling over the edge. She was wedged in so tight I wondered if I’d ever be able to get her out.

It took six minutes and forty three seconds to get to the post office. Not quite my best, but if my sister hadn’t been weighing me down I’m pretty sure it would have been a world record. Millie jumped out of the basket and ran into the shop before I’d even brought my bike to a halt.

“Back again, are you?” Mrs. Jeffries said. “I’m closing up now so you’ll have to ‘urry up if you wanna nick all me sweets.”

“Mrs. Jeffries, I brought more money, can I buy your bird now, please?” Millie said excitedly.

“Oh, not this again, Millie. I already told you, I can’t let you buy it!” Mrs. Jeffries told my sister, losing her patience a bit.

“I have £9.70 pocket money,” My sister said, then put the money down on the counter. She pulled some change from her other pocket and dropped it on the counter with the rest of the money. “And however much that is. I think there’s about £2 there.”

“Oh, Millie, dear,” Mrs. Jeffries said, scratching her head.

“It’s more than twice as much as I offered you before. It’s a really good deal for you!” Millie said, looking at Mrs. Jeffries hopefully.

“Please, Mrs. Jeffries. She worked really hard to get all that money,” I said.

Mrs. Jeffries let out a big sigh. “Bloody ‘ell, I won’t be getting any rumpy pumpy when Mr. Jeffries finds out,” she said and waved a hand at us. “All right, you little cowbags, take the bird!”

“Yes!” Millie shouted and jumped up and down in triumph. She put her face down next to the cage and spoke to the canary inside. “You can come home with us now. You’ll like it where we live.”

“Go on then, you pair of bullies, take the bird before I change my mind,” Mrs. Jeffries said, rubbing her temples. “Ooh, I think I’ve got a migraine coming on again.”

“Do you want to count the money?” I said as Millie walked out of the post office with the cage in her arms, cooing softly to the frightened looking canary inside.

“No, don’t worry about that, Freya. Say ‘ello to your Mum for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks Mrs. Jeffries,” I said and followed Millie outside.

I took it a lot slower on the way home. Millie sat in the basket with the cage in her lap, humming a little tune to the canary while I made sure not to ride over too many bumps.

When we got home, Millie put the birdcage down on the kitchen worktop. Mum was sitting at the table with her beekeeping books, writing stuff down on a notepad. “We have parasites in some of the colonies, girls. Varroa mites, I think. Need to get rid of them before they take hold.”

The canary chirped and Mum looked up in surprise. “Um… why is there a bird in our kitchen, please?”

Millie looked a bit worried. I don’t think she was sure how this would go. “I bought it from the post office with my pocket money.”

“The post office sells canaries now?” Mum asked.

“It wasn’t really for sale,” I explained. “Mr. Jeffries got it from a dead lady but we asked Mrs. Jeffries to sell it to us.”

Mum just peered at the bird over her glasses.

“I’m going to set it free, Mummy,” Millie said.

“It’ll probably fly away and die if you let it out of the cage, Millie,” Mum told her.

“No, it won’t because I’ll put the cage near the window and open it, and I’ll put some food inside and a nice bed and it can fly around a bit and then come back at night to sleep.”

“And what about Bee?” Mum said.

Bee had her front paws up on the kitchen worktop and was wagging her tail at the little yellow bird.

Millie bent down and had a little chat with the puppy. “Bee? This is Nigel. He’s our new friend and you’re not allowed to eat him, okay?”

I wasn’t sure Bee was convinced. I didn’t think Nigel was a very good name for a canary either, but it was up to Millie, I suppose. And Nigel might have been a girl for all we knew.

“Well, it’s your responsibility, so make sure you take it seriously,” Mum told my sister.

“I will,” Millie replied. She took a half opened bag of bird seed from the cupboard under the sink and sprinkled some onto a little dish, then filled another dish up with some water. She asked me to take them upstairs while she carried the birdcage up to our room and put it on the sill next to the open window. She set the dishes of food and drink down, then slowly opened the cage.

The canary chirped a few times but didn’t move from its perch.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to leave yet,” my sister told the bird softly. “Just take your time and then have a little fly around when you’re ready, all right?”

“It might never want to leave,” I told her.

“It will. It can see the sky from here. Birds love flying through the sky more than anything in the world.”

“If you say so,” I said.

***

It was just past ten o’clock when Freya poked her head round my bedroom door. The evening was warm and clingy and my window was open wide with the curtains pulled back to let what little breeze there was into my room. I’d retired early and spent the last hour trawling through bits of lesbian porn, slowly working up into a highly aroused state without even touching myself.

I wasn’t sure if she’d come. I thought she might lose her nerve or fall asleep or maybe just assume my invitation was a joke. And part of me thought it would be best if she didn’t turn up, that this wasn’t the kind of thing a mother should be doing with her ten-year-old daughter. But another part of me reassured myself that there was no harm in it, because we were just watching each other, not actually touching.

The truth, though, is that I really wanted this. Ever since that afternoon when I’d spied on the girls in the poppy field, I found myself longing to be closer to them, just as they had grown closer as sisters. I craved the intimacy, even if that meant taking our relationship a bit further than that of parent and child. Was I playing with fire? Probably. But somehow, that didn’t seem to matter like it should.

So there she was, my eldest daughter, standing in the doorway in her pyjamas, cheeks flushed with colour and a look on her face that seemed to be asking, Is this okay, Mum? Is it?

And yes. It was okay.

“Well, hello,” I said to her, smiling.

“Hi,” Freya replied and stuck both arms behind her head, pretending to stretch.

“Are you coming in, then?” I asked her.

She stepped into my room and pushed the door to, not quite shutting it.

“Close it right up. We don’t want anyone else watching, do we?” I said, playfully. I’d certainly got my money’s worth the last time I’d peeked through a gap in the door. The thought of that made me feel even hornier.

“Okay,” Freya said and closed my bedroom door as quietly as she could, then tiptoed over to my bed and climbed aboard. She sat on her heels and let out a nervous little titter.

“Is Millie asleep?” I asked her.

“Yeah, but Bee nearly tried to follow me. I told her to stay, though.”

“Good. Are you nervous about what you’re going to see tonight?”

“I’m a bit nervous, but I’m excited, too. Plus, I already saw you and Miss Laine doing it last night, so I kind of know what to expect.”

“Did you like watching us?”

“Yeah, I went back to my room and touched myself for ages.”

“And now you’re going to get a front row seat! Aren’t you a lucky girl?” I said, poking her with my foot.

Freya laughed nervously. “Are you doing it with your pyjamas on, or are you going to take them off?”

“Hmmm. What do you think would be best?”

Freya shrugged. “It’s hot tonight, so you could take them off.”

“I suppose I could.”

“If you wanted to,” Freya added.

I did want to. I very much wanted to. But I wanted to tease her, too. Teasing was fun.

“I’m not sure if I should. Shall I undo some buttons on my top first and see how we go from there?” I suggested.

“Yeah, okay, if you want,” Freya said, trying to sound as if she wasn’t all that bothered either way. Her eyes said something different, though.

“I don’t have a bra on underneath. Is that okay?” I asked her.

“Uh… yeah, that’s okay. You can… I don’t… yeah, it’s okay. Shall I close my eyes?” Freya replied, flustered.

I chuckled. “You’re here to watch, aren’t you? What would be the point in closing your eyes?”

“Yeah, sorry. Undo your buttons then.”

“That’s better. We have to be brave and tell each other what we want, okay?” I told her.

“All right.”

I undid the first button on my pyjama top, slowly and deliberately, gauging her reaction. “One button…” I said playfully.

Freya stared wide eyed, looking up at me once and smiling bashfully.

The next button. Slowly, slowly. See what her face does. “Two buttons…”

She nibbled her bottom lip and fidgeted slightly.

Another button. Halfway there now. “Three buttons…”

Still biting her lip. Hands in her lap.

“More buttons?” I asked her.

“Yeah, do the others,” Freya told me.

The next button. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Tease them open. “Four buttons…”

A casual scratch between her legs. Was it just a scratch, though?

A fifth button. Just one more remaining. “Five buttons…”

She looked me in the eye. That naughty, defiant expression she gets sometimes.

I gazed back at her and popped the last button through its hole.

“Six buttons!” Freya said before I could, then giggled.

I smiled at her. “Shall I… show you my breasts now?” I asked her, trying to tantalise. My fingers were poised upon the lapels, ready to reveal myself.

“Yes, please,” Freya said quickly.

I slowly teased my pyjama top open, the satin material brushing against my hard nipples.

Freya sat there mesmerised as my breasts came into view. “Wow,” she said simply.

“Haven’t seen these for a while, have you?” I said, pushing my tits together.

“The rings around your nipples are quite big,” Freya informed me.

“They’re called areolae,” I told her.

“Areolae,” she repeated, testing out the new word.

I trapped my nipples between my fingers and massaged my breasts. “Your turn to show,” I said.

“Me?” Freya said, pointing to herself.

“No, the other little girl sitting on my bed. Yes, you, silly,” I said with a smile.

Freya fumbled with her buttons, her eyes fixed on my tits as I squeezed and kneaded them. The last button came away in her hand. “Oops,” she said.

“We’ll sew it back on tomorrow,” I told her. “Now let me see you, baby girl.”

Shyly, she slipped her pyjama top off and let it fall onto the bed. Then, looking a little apologetic, she picked it back up and folded it neatly.

I had to chuckle. I’d always taught the girls to fold their clothes up nicely. “You don’t need to do that tonight,” I told her.

“Okay.”

I’d seen my daughter in various states of undress before, of course. But never in this context. This was something different. Her chest was mostly flat, but there were the beginnings of something happening there – two little bumps that could have easily been mistaken for baby fat. The first whispers of womanhood. Freya put both arms behind her head to show herself off, and her little nipples stood to attention. She smiled at me. It seemed that some of her inhibitions were beginning to evaporate.

I pushed one of my tits up towards my mouth and licked my nipple. “Can you do that?” I asked Freya.

She stuck her tongue out as far as she could and tried to lick her nipple without success. “No, but I can’t wait until I can!” she said and giggled.

I laughed with her. “You can touch them, though. Give it a try,” I suggested.

She rubbed and pinched at her baby nipples, testing what felt good and what didn’t.

I licked a finger and smeared one of my own bullet-hard nipples with saliva. “Try that.”

She popped a finger into her mouth and deposited it’s wetness upon both her nipples, then went back to rubbing them. “That does feel nice,” she told me.

Hooking a thumb into the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, I raised an eyebrow at Freya. “What now?” I asked, sliding my thumb from side to side underneath the elastic.

“Um… could you take those off, please?” she asked me.

“I might, if you take yours off too,” I said, surprising myself. I hadn’t planned on asking my daughter to strip off, but the memory of that night, when I had stood over her and masturbated as she lay asleep with her knickers round her knees, pushed itself to the forefront of my mind, urgent and insistent. I needed to see her naked again.

Off they came, those little pyjama bottoms, down her legs and over her feet, leaving Freya clad in nothing but white cotton panties. I noticed a little wet patch on the front of them. Someone was getting excited.

I pushed my own pyjamas down, dropping them on the floor, then swung one knee to the side and rested a hand upon the crotch of my panties. They were wet to the touch, my juices having seeped into the fabric as I’d edged myself, waiting for my little girl to arrive.

“Do you recognize these panties?” I asked Freya.

She smiled and nodded. They were the same panties I’d found under her pillow not so long ago. The ones she had fished out of the washing basket. Light blue with a yellow trim. Simple cotton knickers. I found myself wishing that I had sexier panties, nice lacy ones like Sadie wore. Perhaps I’d treat myself sometime very soon.

“They’re very wet and juicy. I expect you’d like to take these to bed with you tonight, wouldn’t you?” I said, running the tips of my fingers across the sodden material.

“I… I wouldn’t mind,” Freya said, eyeing her potential prize.

I slid a hand inside my knickers. “No wonder my panties are such a mess. I’m really wet down here.”

“I’m wet, too,” Freya told me and stuck her hand down her own undies.

“Why don’t you show me?”

Her eyes widened. “Show you my kitty?”

“Call it a pussy. That’s what big girls say.”

“Show you my… pussy?” Should I?” Freya asked me. At the prospect of showing Mummy her private parts, my daughter’s shyness had returned.

“You’ve shown everyone else. I think it’s only fair that your mum gets to have a little peek.”

“I didn’t show everyone,” she said. “Just Millie and some girls at school, and… yeah, just them, I think.”

“Aren’t you going to show me, then?” I said, pouting.

She gave me a huge smile. “Yeah, I’ll show you,” she said. “Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” I said, sliding two fingers through my wet folds inside my knickers.

“Do a drum roll,” Freya said as she gripped the elastic of her crotch, ready to pull it to one side and reveal her treasure.

I tapped out a drum roll on the bed with my fingers and finished it with a ‘tsss’ to emulate a cymbal.

Freya peeled back her knickers in one quick movement. “Ta-da!” she cried, grinning.

“Shhh!” I cautioned, but with a chuckle. “You’ll wake Millie.”

Freya put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Ta-da!” she whispered.

I stared between my little girl’s legs. Her pussy was smooth and hairless and I could see a film of moisture upon those beautiful puffy lips.

“What a pretty pussy,” I told her.

She spread her legs and looked down, inspecting herself. “Thanks. Do you think I’ll get any hair soon?”

“You will. But it looks nice without hair, if you ask me.”

“Is Miss Laine’s ki— um, pussy hairy?”

“Didn’t you see?”

“Not really, her leg was in the way,” Freya said, making a face.

“Your teacher likes to shave hers, but she does have a little tuft of hair just… here,” I said and pointed just above my pussy.

Freya smiled wistfully. “I’d love to see it.”

“Is Mummy’s pussy not good enough for you?”

“Well, I don’t know until you show me, do I?” Freya said, taking a cheeky tone.

I tucked my fingers into the waistband of my knickers. “Should I take these off, then?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Are you sure you want to see your mum’s pussy? I don’t want to traumatise my poor baby…” I cooed, teasing her.

“Oh, Mu-um! Show me! I showed you mine!” Freya protested.

“Hmm, okay. I suppose I could give you a little look,” I said, and slowly slid those damp panties down my legs. “Close your eyes.”

“Why? You told me not to close them earlier.”

“Just close them. You can open them again in a minute.”

Freya shut her eyes and laid there propped up on her elbows, feet together, knees spread apart, her white panties pulled to one side. She looked so delectable.

I spread my legs wide, the cool breeze from the window caressing my exposed pussy lips. “Now you can open them.”

Her eyes snapped open, then went wide.

“Ta-da!” I trilled. Spreading myself open with my fingers, I treated Freya to a full-on gynaecological view, my hot, pink interior moist and inflamed.

“Wow,” Freya gushed.

“Does it look nice?” I asked her as I pushed my fingers through my wetness.

“Yeah, it’s all meaty and sexy,” she told me.

“Meaty and sexy? I’ll take that, I suppose,” I said, laughing. “Stand up and take your panties off for me, baby. Nice and slow.”

Standing up on the bed, Freya tried her best at sliding her knickers down her legs in a very seductive manner, swaying her hips from side to side in a little dance.

I encouraged her as I played with myself. “Ooh, yeah! What a hot girl!” I was so unbelievably horny, I thought I might come there and then.

Freya pushed her panties over her ankles and kicked them off. They landed on the pillow next to me. I picked them up and brought them to my face. I’d sniffed my own panties a few times, but had never even considered using my ten-year-old daughter’s used knickers as a sex aid. Tonight I was feeling especially dirty, though. I inhaled her aroma, finding it fruity and ever so slightly musky.

“Do they smell okay?” Freya asked me, looking a bit shocked to see her mother doing such a naughty thing with her knickers.

“They smell delicious. Now lay back down and spread your legs nice and wide for me, then Mummy will finger herself for you.”

She lay down on the end of my bed and opened her legs as wide as she could, scraping her knuckles up and down her smooth pussy as she stared at my cunt. “I feel so grown up, doing this with you,” she told me.

“You mustn’t tell anyone though. Not even Millie. This is a secret for big girls,” I said, then slipped two fingers inside myself.

“I won’t tell,” Freya assured me and pushed a middle finger into her vagina, imitating me.

I withdrew my fingers from my cunt and smeared their wetness over my nipples. “I love the smell of my pussy. Can you smell it?”

“Yeah, I really like it,” Freya said to me. “I can’t wait to take your knickers to bed with me later.”

“What a naughty girl. Shall I make them extra messy for you?”

Freya nodded at me and grinned.

I picked my panties up and rubbed my cunt with them, my eyes glued to Freya’s busy hand as she masturbated. “Oh, yeah. Finger that sexy little pussy for me, baby. You’re making Mummy so wet.”

Freya watched me intently as I made a mess of my knickers, her finger pistoning in and out of her pussy so rapidly that I thought she might hurt herself. Her technique was crude, but judging from the look of lusty bliss on her face, it was clearly doing the job.

Spreading myself open, I stuffed my knickers inside my cunt until just an inch or two of the material was left sticking out.

“Oh my God, that’s so rude!” Freya gushed, clearly enjoying my lewdness.

“These panties are going to be so nasty and dirty for you. Is that what you want?” I said as I strummed my clit.

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I’m going to smell them while I hump my pillow and think about licking Miss Laine’s kitty,” my daughter said as she fingered herself.

Putting a hand up to my mouth in surprise, I couldn’t help but laugh at my ten-year-old blurting out her innermost thoughts. That was quite the admission she’d just made. Was this merely a girl crush? Or the beginnings of true lesbian desire?

“What?” Freya asked me, still diddling herself.

“You want to lick your teacher’s pussy?”

My daughter looked a little abashed. “Did I say that out loud?”

“I’m afraid so, poppet. Is that what you want to do to her, then?” I asked her, my fingers returning to my clit.

“I – I dunno. Yeah. A bit. Am I weird?”

“Of course you’re not weird. I’ll bet just about every kid in Sadie’s classroom would like to lick her pussy,” I reassured her, trying to sound serious – but couldn’t stop myself from tittering.

Freya grinned at me. “Oi! Stop laughing! I’m trying to touch my kitty!”

I beckoned her towards me. “Come here and stand over me while you play with yourself. I want to see your pussy up close while I make myself come.”

“Is ‘come’ another way to say ‘orgasm’?” my daughter asked me as she got up and stood over me, her sweet, hairless pussy just a few tantalising inches from my face.

“Yeah, it is,” I said as she slipped her finger back into her cunt. “Oh, sweetie, that looks so sexy.”

“We should do this every night,” Freya suggested as she fucked herself, thrusting her pelvis out towards me lewdly.

“I… I don’t know about that,” I moaned, my climax building; churning inside me, urgent to erupt.

“Well, I think we should. Maybe I could lay on top of you and we could rub our pussies together. I know how to do that.”

“Naughty girl. Such a… oh, Freya! Mummy’s coming!” I groaned, trying to come as quietly as I could so as not to wake Millie. I thrust my hips out, pressed my palm tightly against my cunt and rode the waves of my orgasm, one after another. “Oh, shit… so good…”

Freya sat back down on her heels and craned her neck forward to get a good look at my spent cunt. “Wow, it looked like you really enjoyed that one!”

I opened my eyes and smiled at her. “Do you want to come too, baby?”

She shook her head. “I’ll go back to my room and have one. Then I can take my time… and think about all the rude things we did tonight.”

“Okay, then,” I said, basking in the pleasant afterglow of my orgasm, only half listening to what my little girl was saying. “You should go back to bed now. It’s getting late.”

Freya pointed between my legs and gave me an abashed look. “Um… I just need to take those panties with me, remember?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” I said and pulled the soaked panties out of my cunt, inch by inch, until they lay sodden and creamy in my hand. I handed them to her and she took a little bashful sniff. “I hope you enjoy them,” I told her.

She snatched up her pyjamas, eager to be away with her dirty prize. Picking up her own panties, she gently placed them on my pillow.

“Well, that’s a lovely present,” I chuckled. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Freya said and did a cute little curtsey. She blew me a kiss. “Goodnight, Mum.”

“Goodnight, sweetie, and have fun. Try not to wake your sister,” I replied and blew her one back.

She tiptoed out of my room, quietly closing the door behind her.

On to Chapter Six!

Note: Since Joe has recently introduced a couple of new characters to the story, we felt it was time to provide you with a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” That can be found here. To get caught up with the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

Kiki put on a delicious spread of roast chicken with salad and fancy loaves of bread, lots of cheeses I hadn’t tried before and this special ham that was from Italy. Everyone else was fully dressed, but I was still nude, very aroused and needing to come in a big way.

My mind began to wander, and I was picturing the things I wanted to do to Mia after lunch when something in the table chatter brought me out of my daydream. Lilly had just asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that she could go swimming when we were done eating.

What caught my attention this time was Mum’s reply. “Yes, sweetie, you can go swimming when we’ve all finished eating. I’ve got your swimming costume in the bag in our room.”

Swimming costume? I’d assumed we’d be swimming nude. What was Mum talking about?

Kiki apparently had the same thought as me. “Swimming costume? Whatever for, darling? We’re all girls here – surely there’s no need to be shy now.”

“Well, It’s true that most of us here around the table have seen each other naked,” Mum began, “but I think that your other guests might be more comfortable if we wore our bathing suits.”

Puzzled, Kiki said, “Heather, how many glasses of wine have you had? What ‘other guests’?”

Nicole and Mum glanced at each other, then they were both trying not to laugh. “Um, I’m afraid that Heather and I have done something a bit, er, shifty,” Nicole said, unable to hold back a giggle.

“I’m intrigued,” said Kiki, arching an eyebrow.

Little Evie spoke up. “Does that word mean ‘interested’?”

“Yes, pumpkin,” said Kiki.

“Then I’m int-er-eeged too!” Evie declared, grinning hugely.

Mum carried on. “We took the liberty of inviting some friends over.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Good question,” said Lottie.

“Emma and Beth Cornish.”

“Thank you, God!” exclaimed Kiki, looking up at the ceiling. I looked up too, but couldn’t see what she was staring at.

When we all spoke about our crushes in the jacuzzi, we promised to help each other hook up if we could. It worked out pretty well, I’d say. Now I was with Mia, Henri and Lottie were looking more like a couple all the time, and Mum had free access to explore her desires for Evie who, at the age of seven, had my little sister for a girlfriend. If Beth Cornish came over, there was a chance for Kiki to make love to her – then we’d each have hooked up with our crushes!

“I did invite them over for lunch,” Mum said, “but they were busy this morning. They’ll be here soon.”

“How did you two manage this?” Kiki’s cheeks were flushed with what I figured was anticipation.

“That’s all my fault, I’m afraid,” said Nicole. “After Heather and I first made love, she told me all about the crushes you people have. I must say, it was thrilling to discover that my daughters are so popular!”

That sent a ripple of laughter around the table. Mia and I shared a quick kiss, and Nicole continued her story. “Anyway, I know Emma Cornish quite well. We worked together on a school outing, and I’ve met her socially a few times. She’s a lesbian, and I was just gearing up to make a pass at her when this one came into my life.” She reached across the table to take my mother’s hand.

What a wonderful mood we were all in that day… you could practically feel the love in the air. I sure hope the Cornishes pick up on that when they get here, I remember thinking.

Kiki spoke up. “Do you think that Emma is, well, close to her daughter, the way we are with ours?”

That gave me a bit of thrill, knowing that Kiki was asking if Emma and Beth have sex.

“I believe so, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. I dropped quite a few hints, and unless I’m very much mistaken, so did she. Still, I think that for the moment, we should take the slow and easy approach. Hence the swimming costumes.”

“No, no, quite right,” Kiki said, nodding. “We don’t want to tip our hand right away.” Suddenly she had a look of panic in her eyes. “They’ll be here soon, you say? Oh, goodness, I should tidy up. No, no point now. I should freshen myself up, though. Is what I’m wearing okay? Maybe I ought to change…”

“Mum, breathe. You look lovely, it’ll be fine,” said Henri, speaking in a soothing tone.

I’d never seen Kiki like this before. Not that I’d known her that long, but it seemed out of character. She must really like Beth a lot, I thought, then decided to help her if I could.

“Don’t worry, Kiki,” I said. “Beth will love you just as much as we do.”

She gave me a dazzling smile. “Poppy Webb, you are so sweet.”

She stood up, so I got up too and we hugged. “Henri is right, y’know… you do look lovely,” I told her.

“Thank you darling. Still, no harm touching up the war paint. I’ll be back in a bit.” With a wink, she got up and exited the room.

“Mum, is my costume in our bag?” I asked.

“Yes, sweetie.”

I stood. “I’m going to go to the loo anyway, so I’ll put it on now.”

“Ooh ooh ooh, I need to go too!” said Lilly and darted off ahead of me.

I remembered that Kiki had a bathroom of her own, so that’s where I went. The door of her room was open, so I just walked in. I couldn’t see her, so she must have been in the bathroom.

“Hi…” I called out, “are you here, Kiki?”

“In the bathroom, darling – come in.” When I entered, she was doing her make-up in the mirror.

“Erm, sorry. I need a wee, and Lilly’s in the other bathroom. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Then as I sat down, she said, “Poppy darling… would you mind terribly if I played with you while you pee?”

That was so out of the blue it caught me off guard. “Er… I guess it’s okay. Best hurry though, I’m starting.”

I had no idea what Kiki meant to do, but we didn’t have time to talk about it before I started peeing. She knelt next to me, put her hand between my legs just as the flow started and rubbed my pussy, her hand and fingers getting drenched.

It was a weird experience. Not as nice as getting licked, but it always feels good to have your pussy played with, even if you are peeing. Kiki really enjoyed it, though – I saw that she was rubbing herself with the other hand.

When I was finished she removed her hand, then licked it, still masturbating all the while. I wiped myself and said, “Kiki, would you like me to lick your pussy?”

She smiled. “I’d love nothing more… but right now we don’t have time.”

“Are you sure?” I said, teasing her by running my hands all over my body, trying to make it look as sexy as I could.

“Wicked child!” she laughed.

“Hee hee, yeah – I guess I do Iike to tease. So, um, you’re into peeing, then? Does it turn you on?”

“It does,” she replied, soaping and washing her hands as she spoke. “I found out by accident. Once, when Henri was about six or seven, I was going down on her when, all of a sudden, she lost control and peed right in my face. Bless her, she was mortified! But instead of being cross or even moving out of the way, I found myself pushing my face in the stream. I even swallowed a little. I’ve no idea why, but after that I had a real affinity for water sports.”

“Water sports?”

“It’s what it’s called when people play pee games with each other. If a lover does it on you, that’s known as a golden shower.”

I was a lot less surprised by this than I might’ve been a few days earlier. “Do people do that kind of thing a lot?”

“It’s an acquired taste. A lot of people don’t like it, but some do. It’s like anything, Poppy – some things will turn you on and others will turn you off.”

“Like Beth Cornish turns you on, huh?”

“Exactly like Beth Cornish. I was practically wetting my knickers when your Mum told me she was coming over. And what with you running around naked and letting me touch you… blimey, a stiff breeze would make me come right now.”

She stared into the mirror for a second, then said, “God, Poppy, look at me. A middle-aged mother getting all flustered over a twelve-year-old girl I’ve not even met properly.”

I wrapped my arms around her from behind. “If Beth loves you half as much as I do, you won’t be able to keep her out of your bed. Don’t worry so much, Kiki. You’re one of the hottest, sexiest ladies I know!”

Turning around, she hugged me tightly. “Well, you’re one of the sweetest, most beautiful girls I’ve ever met, and cute as a button, too. Not to mention clever. That was some very grown-up advice.”

I was blushing like mad at all the compliments, so flustered that I sort of lost my words for a bit. “Well, some of that is what Mum told me before I went to the school disco last year.”

“Well, it was sage advice indeed.” She turned back to the mirror. “Now, I’m going to get myself ready to make a serious impression on our guests.”

I left Kiki to finish her make-up and went to the spare room where Mum put our bag. It took me ages to find my swimming cossie, and I was a bit annoyed at Mum for packing my old red one-piece and not the sexy new bikini. Why’d she pack this one? I wondered. It was buried at the back of the bloody drawer!

But when I managed to squeeze into it, I understood why she’d brought the red swimsuit. It was at least one if not two sizes too small for me. The shiny red fabric was pulled so tight around my crotch you could clearly see the definition of my pussy lips, and it kept creeping up into the crack of my bum. That last bit was sort of annoying but gave everyone a great view, so I was okay with it.

I walked out into the hallway with the plush carpets and into the main room. I noticed that Kiki and Henri had put out blankets, throws, cushions and pillows all around, making the space look even more welcoming than it already was. I could hear enough to know that Beth and her mum had arrived. I felt a bit self-conscious in the tight bathing suit, but I liked the way it displayed my body even more. Besides, we’d soon all be in our swimming stuff anyhow.

“Ah, here she is. Poppy, this is Beth and Emma,” Mum said as I walked up to the group standing by the door. The cold air from outside hit me, and I shivered as I said hello.

I’d seen Beth around at school but only recently said hello to her for the first time. We’d never spoken much, and I’d only glimpsed her mother from a distance. Seeing them now, close up, I could see why Kiki was so obsessed with Beth, although I thought her mother was just as beautiful, if not more so. Emma looked about my mother’s age, perhaps early thirties. Beth, I knew, was twelve. They both had milky white skin with freckles here and there and the same dark orange hair. The other nice feature they shared was the brightest, most vivid green eyes you’ve ever seen. Mother and daughter both wore jeans with jumpers. Beth was only a few inches taller than me, and her Mum was petite as well.

“Are you going swimming?” Beth asked me.

Not wanting to spoil the surprise at the end of the tour I said, “Maybe later.”

“Kiki, why don’t you show Emma and Beth around while we get changed?” Nicole suggested.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Kiki said. We’ll meet the rest of you in there.”

“In… in where?” asked Emma. “I’m intrigued.”

“You’ll see.” Kiki replied, leading her and Beth from the room..

I was still feeling the cold air that had been let in, so I went straight to the nice warm pool room and jumped into the water. One by one, the others came in. Like me, Lilly and Evie were in one piece costumes, and theirs seemed suspiciously small as well. Mia had a lovely pink bikini with white trim. Henri and Lottie both wore bikinis, too. Unlike Mia, the older girls had tiny string bikinis on, and they were thongs, too! The tops were tiny, Lottie’s done in a plain yellow and Henri’s with a purple and blue pattern. I was stunned at their boldness – they looked fantastic, with almost nothing left to the imagination. Mum and Nicole came in wearing bikinis too, Mum’s was dark red with a white pattern, and Nicole’s was plain black, both with strings at the sides of the briefs and neck.

Mia, Lilly and Evie joined me in the pool while the adults and teens sat at the table waiting for Kiki to complete the tour for the newcomers. Me and the girls were still frolicking in the water when they came in. Emma and Beth were as stunned as we all were the first time we saw Kiki’s magnificent pool room.

I couldn’t hear any of the conversation, so I got out of the water and came closer, picking my bathing suit out of my bum for the hundredth time as I went. Mia followed, leaving Lilly and Evie playing in the pool.

“What, all the way open?” said Beth.

“Yes, all the way open, but I don’t want to let in the cold air while we’re swimming. When we’re done, I’ll open it and show you,” said Kiki.

“The problem is, we don’t have our swimming stuff with us,” said Emma.

“Oh, Henri and I have lots of swimwear. We’ll find something for you both, I’m sure.”

I was distracted by the uncomfortable suit I was wearing and not really listening properly. As I plucked it out of my bum yet again, Mum said to me, “Are you, okay sweetie?”

“Why did you have to pack this swimming costume? It’s really uncomfortable,” I frowned with annoyance.

Mum looked at Emma when she answered. “As it’s only us girls here, we normally swim nude, so I wasn’t sure which one to bring. Looks like I made the wrong choice.”

“I hope you didn’t cover up on our account,” Emma said, then she turned to her daughter, looking pleased as punch. “What do you think about that, Beth? We’ve found some fellow naturists… just like us.”

There was a definite erotic tone to the way Emma said those last three words, looking at Kiki while she spoke.

“Oh, how wonderful – you’re naturists, then?” Kiki was clearly pleased with this news.

“Yes, indeed. We’re proud members of the British Naturist society. My parents were similarly inclined, so I’ve been going nude all my life. Beth too,” she added, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist.

“Is that like for, for saving trees and stuff?” asked Evie.

That made everyone smile and go ‘Aw’, which made Evie pout a bit, thinking we were laughing at her. She was standing next to my mum, who picked Evie up, perched the girl on her hip and said, “I think you mean naturalist, sweetie. It sounds very similar, but a naturist is someone who likes to be naked.”

“I never knew that,” I said truthfully, also wanting to make Evie feel better for asking.

“I’m a naturist, then,” Evie announced, back to her chipper self. “I love being naked!”

“Me too,” I said, making a face as I picked at my bum, tugging the too-tight suit down again, hoping everyone noticed.

“Shall I get you both swimsuits?” Kiki asked.

Emma looked at her daughter. “What do you say, Beth? I’m happy going nude if you are.”

Beth was beaming. “Yeah, I’d much rather go without, if that’s okay.”

“Wonderful!” Kiki exclaimed. “There’s a little changing area with towels, just opposite the showers. No point in me going all the way back to my room… I’ll undress with you two,” Kiki followed them to the small changing area, grinning widely as she clip-clopped across the tiled floor in her heels.

“Girls, you can take your swimming costumes off if you wish,” Mum said, loudly enough for Emma and Beth to hear as they left the pool area.

My swimsuit was off in a flash. “I hope I never see this again,” I said, tossing it into a vacant corner. The others soon did the same, and we all jumped in the pool completely starkers. I stayed near the edge closest to the seating area, so I could get a good look at Emma and Beth when they came back naked.

A couple of minutes later the three of them emerged, and I feasted my eyes on the newcomers as they came towards me. My gaze was instantly drawn to their pubes, which were a lovely orange hue. Beth only had a tiny trimmed tuft just above her slit, while her mother had a larger patch, about the size and shape of an egg.

Beth was slender with long coltish legs and breasts only a little more developed than mine. She was holding Kiki’s hand, laughing at something her mother had said. She looked beautiful and quite content with being naked. Emma’s breasts were magnificent; large and round with remarkably small pink nipples. Other than a few hardly noticeable stretch marks, her petite figure showed few signs of childbirth. Her tummy was flat and her hips were slim and shapely, like her legs. Accompanied by the always stunning Kiki, the three of them made for an awesome sight that had my heart pounding.

I had a burning urge to get on my knees and bury my face in one of those pretty ginger pussies. Given that Kiki would probably never forgive me if I fucked Beth before she did, I decided Emma would be a better choice. Not that it mattered – I was pretty sure I’d get to fuck them both by the end of the night. Something in their wandering eyes convinced me that Emma and her daughter were very much into the idea of sharing a swimming pool with a bunch of nude women and girls.

I was eager for my first encounter with Nicole, Lottie and Evie, but right then, the Cornishes had captured my interest. But before I could come on to Emma, or anyone else for that matter, I needed to clear it with Mum. I didn’t want to embarrass myself if it was too early in the day for sex, and my instincts told me that it probably was.

Mum is always telling me I’m beautiful. But she’s my mother, after all, and would still think I was beautiful if I got hit by a bus. But recently I’d begun to truly believe that she really meant it. Kiki and Henri had also said sweet things – not just telling me I’m beautiful, but sexy, too. And they backed up their words with touches and kisses, just like my mum. So I was not only growing in confidence, but learning the arts of seduction as well.

I knew enough to understand I was still a bit clumsy – but being so young, I could get away with it. So as Kiki, Emma and Beth walked towards me, I made no attempt to hide the fact I was staring at them, very much liking what I saw.

“You okay there, Poppy?” asked Emma, wearing a sly smile as she stepped into the shallow end with me. “See anything you like?” She drifted closer while Kiki waded into the middle of the pool with Beth.

I thought it best to be honest. “Sorry for staring. It’s just that I – I’ve never seen orange pubic hair before. I think it’s lovely.”

Emma didn’t bat an eyelid, “Aw, that’s sweet, thank you! Kiki said you were a delightful little girl… and so far, I have to agree with her. You have such beautiful blue eyes.” She stroked my cheek then softly said, “I’d love to get to know you better.”

Okay, that was a definite come on, no doubt about it. My heart was racing, and I could feel myself blush. That’s okay, blushing is cute, right? Say something, Poppy!

“I’d like that,” I said. Suddenly feeling cheeky, I stole a quick kiss from Emma.

Giggling like the naughty little girl I was, I dove beneath the water and swam off. When I came up for air and glanced back, Emma blew me a kiss. I pretended to catch it, then sent one back.

Even though I was burning with lust, I also felt uncertain about my next move. Right… gather yourself. It’s just sex, you’ve done it loads of times now. I need to talk to an adult… good, there’s Mum. She was in the pool with Henri, bobbing about in the water and chatting to her.

I went over to her and got up close, then whispered, “Can I make a move on Emma? I’m pretty sure she likes me.”

Kiki was grinning. “Oh, she likes you just fine. Couldn’t take her eyes off you earlier!”

“I must admit, I’m keen to get this party started. What do you think, Henri?” Mum said.

“It should be okay… but I normally wait for Mum to make the first move, so maybe check with her first.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” I said and began to swim off – but Mum took hold of my arm.

“You and Mia have been very close the last few days, have you spoken to her about having sex with others?”

“Of course! I mean, we all have sex with each other, right? She knows that. I mean, she does it with her mum and sisters.”

Henri frowned. “I think what your mum is trying to say is that Mia’s feelings might get hurt if you just threw yourself at Emma. She’s in love with you, after all. If it were me, I’d speak to her and see how she feels about it. I’m sure she’d appreciate that.”

“Or maybe ask her to join you both. She might like Emma, too.”

“Gosh, I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. I feel bad, now.”

Mum shook her head. “Don’t, sweetie. See, you did the right thing, came and asked my advice first. And remember, Emma may be an adult, but you still need to ask permission. And go slow, don’t jump her, let her come to you.” She smiled. “Trust me, she will. You’re irresistable.”

That cheered me right up. I was glad I’d gone to Mum instead of coming on to Emma right away, which is probably just what I would’ve done.

First things first. I needed to speak to Mia. It took me a couple of minutes, but I got her alone.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I told her.

“Me too! But we can’t, not yet. I have to wait for Mum to say it’s okay before we start doing stuff.”

“My mum said to ask Kiki, which is what I’m just about to do.”

“Um, Poppy… can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Had she noticed me flirting with Emma? Did she have a problem with that?

“Erm, would you mind if I had sex with your mother?”

“Of course not! I know Mum can’t wait to be with you. She thinks you’re hot.”

“Stop teasing me.”

Sod the rules… I kissed her, I had to. It was a quick one, though, “I would never tease you about stuff like that, Mia. Cross my heart.”

“Wow, she really likes me?”

“She absolutely does. What do you think of Emma?”

“She seems nice. Very sexy.”

“God, I want to fuck her!” I couldn’t help but blurt it out. Thankfully, no one else heard.

Mia laughed. “That’s how I feel about your Mum.”

“So, er, you don’t mind if I have sex with Emma, right?”

“Why would I mind?” Mia looked confused.

“I just thought that, um… actually, it was Mum who said that since you and I are, y’know, really close, maybe I ought to see how you feel about it before….”

“Before you have sex with someone else? Poppy, I hope to have sex with everyone here before we go home, but you’re the one I’m in love with. Let’s just make sure we fall asleep together tonight, how about that?”

I could feel my eyes welling up with joyful tears, but managed to hold them back. “Aw, I love you, Mia. And yeah, I’m spending the night with you for sure!”

She threw her arms around me and we kissed. We broke off before anyone saw us, though.

“Um, by the way, you do know you’re my girlfriend, right?” I asked, giving her a shy smile. “That’s what I’ve been telling people.”

Mia giggled. “Jeez, Poppy! I’ve been calling you my girlfriend for over a week. Get with the program!”

We both burst out laughing, then shared one more quick kiss.

“Let me set things up with Mum for you,” I told her. “I’ll go have a chat with her now.”

“Wait, Poppy – um, maybe you shouldn’t say anything,” Mia began, but I wasn’t about to listen to that. This was no time for her to get cold feet. So I pretended not to hear her, just swam back over to Mum and Henri.

“How did it go?” Mum asked me.

I took her arm. “You were right, Mum. I’m so glad I spoke to her. She’s fine with me being with Emma. Thing is, there’s someone here that Mia’s got her eye on. Someone she’s not been with yet.”

Mum’s eyes widened a bit, like they always did when she was about to hear something juicy. “Oooh, who’s that, then?”

I gave her a big smile. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, Heather,” Henri said, “you know you’re sexy as fuck.” Mum gave a surprised yelp. I figured that Herni must have touched her under the water or something.

I continued. “Anyway, Mia’s dying of embarrassment over there, because I’ve come straight over to tell you what she’s thinking.”

“I’ll have to do something about that, won’t I? Come on, Henri – let’s go see Mia and leave Poppy to chase down her prey.”

“Good luck with Emma,” Henri told me. “Hope I get a crack at her myself – she’s dead sexy!”

As I swam over to where Kiki was chatting with Emma and Beth, I noticed Mum had already drawn Mia into a conversation, and they were both giggling. I felt good for Mia. Mum is a wonderful lover, and I knew they would have lots of sexy fun together. I intended to have sex with Mia’s mum pretty soon, and now I knew that Mia would help me start things off when I did.

Evie and Lilly came over and splashed me, so I played with them for a while then waded over to Kiki. She was leaning against the side of the pool, standing next to Beth. Emma was just opposite them. I didn’t notice until I got up close, but Kiki and Beth had their arms around each others’ waist under the water. This looks promising, I thought.

Kiki smiled at me. “You okay, Poppy?”

I had no idea what to do, so after an embarrassingly long pause I said, “Yeah, just thought I’d say hi,” then giggled like an idiot.

“Kiki was just telling us about your crushes, how each of you have different ones. I think that’s so sweet,” said Emma. I noticed Beth blushing slightly when her mum said that.

I wasn’t sure how much Kiki had told Emma, so I decided it was time to be honest again. “Did they tell you who my crush is?”

“They did, but I’d have known anyway. You’d have to be blind not to see how much you and Mia love each other.”

“Yeah, she’s really nice. She’s my girlfriend now.”

“Well, it’s about time you two made it official! Congratulations!” exclaimed Kiki. She hugged me.

Emma and Beth congratulated me too, and I felt embarrassed all over again. I hadn’t expected this to be such a big deal. My face was hot as I said, “Thanks.”

Then I decided to be bold and take a chance on making a complete muppet of myself, figuring that Kiki would bail me out before I made a really bad impression. “The thing is,” I began, “Mia and I, we both have other crushes, too.”

I left it like that, so if Kiki gave me a certain look I could still explain it away. Instead, she gave me a wink, so I figured it was okay for me to be coming on to Emma. My heart beat even faster when she leaned in close to me and murmured, “Can I be nosy and ask who they are? I think I can guess one of them.”

I was hoping Emma had figured out that I was crushing on her, so I wouldn’t have to say it out loud. Instead, I asked her, “Which one is that?”

“I think Mia likes your mummy,” Emma said, a huge smile on her lips as she looked past me. I glanced over my shoulder to find Mum and Mia cuddling each other in a very affectionate way. To most people, it would have seemed quite innocent, but everyone here knew better.

“Yeah, you got that one,” I admitted. Now, my other crush is, erm… well, it’s on you.” I was so nervous that it was hard to get the words out, all the while struggling to look relaxed..

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” said Beth. “Isn’t it, Mum?”

Drifting even closer, Emma hugged me to her for a long, wonderful while, then kissed my cheek. I could feel her bare legs against mine, and a delicious shiver ran through me when our breasts briefly touched. She whispered in my ear, “You’re my crush, too,” then drew back just far enough to smile at me, cupping my face in her hands. I was gazing into those sparkling green eyes, the desire I saw in them warming me like a sunbeam.

I felt Emma’s hand trail down to my shoulder, and from there to my right breast, what little there was of it. As she teased the nipple, she turned to catch Mum’s eye, then gestured towards me with her head as if to ask, Is this okay?

Mum nodded firmly, then drove the point home by claiming Mia’s mouth in a heated French kiss. Mia went stiff for a fraction of a second, then hugged Mum tightly as their tongues flashed back and forth. The sight of my girlfriend and my mother carrying on like passionate lovers made me quiver inside.

That was when Kiki turned to Beth with a smile and said, “Darling, would you mind if I kissed you?”

“I’d love that,” Beth said, her eyes wide. Kiki moved in, covering the girl’s mouth with hers.

I felt so pleased for Kiki I can’t tell you – honestly, my heart fluttered. I knew how nervous she was, but the woman had guts as well as style, and her fear didn’t show one bit. Despite everything, all the careful build-up, the checking and double-checking, in the end, she was a grown woman who was about to kiss a twelve-year-old girl in front of her mother… and then, in all likelihood, make love to her.

It’s such a high, that moment when friendship suddenly turns sexual. Now multiply that by four women, two teens, and five young girls, all of them gay. It was crazy exciting, my wildest experience ever, and I was practically panting to get started.

Emma looked at me, just about to speak. I figured she was going to ask to kiss me, but I was ready to fuck!

I gave her my sweetest smile. “Emma, would you like to take a soak in the jacuzzi with me?”

She paused with her mouth still open, then smiled back. “I’d love nothing more.”

 

On to Chapter Fourteen!

Note from JetBoy: It’s been a long, wild ride, but we are thrilled to pieces to finally offer you the conclusion of Sunnybunny’s marvelous lesbian novel. If you have yet to sample this sexy saga, please check out Chapter One and go from there. If you have been following the story, it would be a good idea to peruse the last couple of chapters, or check out a thumbnail summary of the whole thing in Chapter Links.

Thanks for sharing with us, SunnyBunny. Consider yourself a true Friend of the Site.

By Sunnybunny

Staring hopelessly at Richard’s gun, Heather began to trudge toward the door of the motel room. God damn it, she thought, lost in despair. If we’d just hit the road an hour earlier. One fucking hour. 

“Hold on,” Richard said, halting her in mid-step, still firmly grasping Angie’s arm. He frowned at the corpse of Travis, then looked up at Heather, a playful smile on his lips. “It wouldn’t be very polite of us to leave a mess behind when we go, now would it?” He glanced over at his hired goon, the one named Curtis. “Go and get the plastic wrap out of the trunk, then…” he gestured at Travis with the barrel of his gun, “…take that trash out.”

Looking down at the body, his upper lip curled in distaste, Curtis slowly nodded. “Sure, boss.” He exited the room.

Turning back to Heather, still smiling, Richard said, “And that is why the police have never been able to lay a finger on me. Rule Numero Uno: don’t leave evidence behind.” He nudged Travis with the tip of his loafer. “When I saw this specimen at the door, I thought you’d lowered your standards in a big way when it came to men… but there’s no way on earth you’d give it up for this.” He poked the body again, harder this time. “So I guess he must’ve been here for protection, eh? Too bad, too sad.”

Curtis came back into the room, a large piece of plastic sheeting draped over his shoulder.

Ignoring the girls, the burly man spread the sheet on the floor next to Travis, then snapped his fingers at his silent partner, who shambled over to assist. Together they slid the corpse onto the plastic, then began to roll it up – clearly, a job these men had tackled before.

What in God’s name are they going to do with him? she wondered.

As if reading her mind, Richard responded. “My car has an extra-big trunk,” he said, nodding approvingly as he watched his men work. “Plenty of cargo space, that’s right.” He looked up again, his eyes meeting Heather’s. “But there’s more than enough space left for you and your new friend, have no fear.” His smile had turned cold and ugly.

By then the silent thug was holding a wrapped-up Travis in a standing position. Curtis had produced a roll of clear packing tape from somewhere and was winding it around the body over and over, the thick tape making loud ripping sounds with every tug.

Once he was satisfied with the result, Curtis quickly moved over to the outside door and opened it, peering into the night. He looked left and right, then returned to the mummy-like package, taking one end. His partner took the other, and they carried what was left of Travis out of the motel room, Richard saluting as it passed by.

“Hasta la bye-bye,” he waved with his pinky finger, then turned back to the girls. “Next on the agenda – we pay a little visit to this diner.” Gently taking a fistful of Angie’s hair, he slowly twisted it until the young girl whimpered in protest. “I really hope that you aren’t fibbing to me.” He suddenly released her, nearly causing Angie to lose her balance. “I’ve had it up to here with women who don’t behave themselves.” His gaze drifted back to Heather who, once again, fought the impulse to look away.

A few minutes later, Travis’ body concealed in Richard’s car trunk, Angie and Heather left the motel room, leading their captors to the diner. They were marched over like prisoners sent to face a firing squad. Single file, Angie leading the way, Heather close behind, Richard and his henchmen bringing up the rear.

Heather prayed the whole way that someone would see them and realize what was happening. Perhaps Walter would wander out of his office at the end of an unusually long evening at work and glimpse them as he locked up for the night. Even better, the sheriff himself might cruise by in his old patrol car, sidle up beside the caravan and inquire what business they had in the diner at such an ungodly hour. At this point, she would have taken one of the catcalling ranch hands with their pinching fingers that left her ass feeling like a pincushion at the end of her shift. Anything or anyone who might save them from what was shaping up to be a hideous fate for her and Angie both. How would Richard and his goons react when they found nothing in the diner but a few dusty countertops and an old jukebox?

Heather slid into one of the empty seats, tugging Angie along after her, only to have the child abruptly yanked out of her grasp. Richard’s smile was sinister as he forced the girl into the seat beside him, boxing her in against the dividing wall. His gun was trained against her temple, sometimes pressing hard enough to leave a little imprint against Angie’s cheek.

Heather wadded up her hands into tight fists along the tabletop, livid with fury at how powerless she felt, then tucked them into the pockets of her coat, where they could tremble without Richard noticing.

“Now, sugar,” Richard drawled, locking eyes with Heather while he addressed the little girl. “Where exactly did you hide that cash? Hmm?”

It took Angie a moment to find her voice. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, looking positively enormous in the gloom of the diner. “I – I don’t know. We g-gave it to our friend to hide. Someone we c-could trust. She, um, owns this place. She promised to, to keep it safe for us, B-but then she died!” The child stared at Richard, her lower lip trembling.

The crease that took shape in Richard’s brow made it clear that he wasn’t buying Angie’s story.

“It’s true,” Heather insisted. “We left it with the owner while we planned our escape. But she suddenly died, just a few nights ago. It caught everyone by surprise. We had to lay low until we could come back and look for it–”

Richard cut her off, slamming the gun against the table like a judge with his gavel, calling for order. “All right, all right! I get the bloody picture!” He half turned in his seat, the worn leather squeaking with his shifting weight. “Boys, tear this place apart until you find it.”

“Boss, we can’t see shit,” one of the goons protested. “How are we supposed to find anything without turning the lights on?”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Richard muttered, then glared in the direction of his men. “There’s a toolbox in the trunk of the car, remember? In that toolbox, there happens to be a flashlight. Now one of you, hustle back to the car and get it!” He watched, a sour twist to his mouth as the smaller of the two men hastened out the door, then turned back to face Heather, touching the barrel of the gun to his forehead as he offered his two captives a sardonic smile. It’s hard to find good help these days, his expression seemed to say.

Sufficiently cowed and a touch humiliated, the remaining henchman stood with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’d rather have been the one to go to the car.

Sighing, Richard turned back to Heather in the seat and, noticing her venomous gaze, shifted back into his shit-eating grin. While she watched, he slithered a hand down the neck of Angie’s top, hugging her close to his side like an old chum. With his arm thrown casually around her shoulders, he shamelessly groped the girl’s flat chest.

Gasping in astonishment and outrage, Angie tried to twist away, sliding partway down in the seat in her attempt to avoid the man’s touch. “Nuh-uh!” he fired back, cinching his arm tighter around the girl’s neck, drawing her back up to sit alongside him without removing his hand from her shirt. “Let’s have none of that now. After all, I’m just being friendly, see? Just a bunch of regular folks hanging out, getting to know one another.” He snickered.

Angie whimpered in reply, shivering in his grasp, her face scrunched up so tightly that Heather feared she might break down in hysteria. She longed to reach across that expanse and take the child’s hand, to give her fingers a squeeze. Let her know that everything was okay. It’s not, though. It’s anything but okay.

This is all my fault, Heather told herself. None of this would’ve happened if I’d never stopped here. Never chose a twelve-year-old girl to be my lover, never agreed to the utter insanity of running away with her. She would have given anything in that moment to take it all back, the good as well as the bad. She would happily surrender those joyous feelings Angie had stirred within her soul, the wonderful laughter and the forbidden, amazing sex – all of it – to banish that look of helpless terror from the girl’s face.

Then and there, Heather vowed that she would get them out of this mess or die trying. She had no idea how or when, but she was at least going to give it her best shot, even if it meant staring down that gun when Richard pulled the trigger…

The door tinkled as the departed thug came back into the cafe, triumphantly brandishing the flashlight. He switched it on, and Richard quickly hissed, “Keep that away from the windows, damn it!”

Pointing the bright yellow beam at the floor, the hood and his cohort made their way into the kitchen to begin their search for the hidden stash of money. They were hardly discreet, and soon a great clangor of noise was heard, one that only grew louder as their efforts intensified.

“Hey,” Richard suddenly said, glancing from Angie to Heather, “you know what I think would do us some good? A story. Yeah! A nice icebreaker to, to alleviate all this tension.” He gave Angie a rough shake that sent her throttling back and forth in his grip. “Would you like that, sweetie pie?” He did not wait for a reply. “That’s the ticket – a nice little fairy tale to calm everyone’s nerves. Okay, now.” He settled back, then began. “Once upon a time, there was a poor peasant girl. And she married a charming crown prince, heir to a vast and wealthy empire.”

Shit. Heather’s bowels turned to water, sensing where he was going with this little stunt of his and hating him all the more for it.

“The two met at a ball in the land of Universe City, and boy, was she blown away by his charms. They danced all night long, until all the stars had vanished from the sky…” His voice took a wispy, almost melancholy air. The bastard even reclined his head back and sighed theatrically, gesturing with his gun hand as he basked in the memory.

“Now, they did not fuck that night.” He made sure to lean hard into Angie’s ear for the word ‘fuck’, the tip of his tongue tickling at her lobe. “You see, our princess was a chaste bitch, who made her poor prince wait and wait and wait before she opened her legs to him.”

A crash erupted from the front of the store, making Angie and Heather jump in their seats. One of the goons had taken the butt of his flashlight to the ancient cash register and forced it open. Richard went on as if he hadn’t heard. “But when she did… whoa, boy!” His voice grew louder. “It was as if the floodgates opened up. After that, they were fucking all the time.” He lewdly thrust his hips up into the table, making the whole booth shape with his ferocity. “Like a couple of damn rabbits. Like it was going out of style. You get the picture?

“Anyway, eventually the prince and the peasant girl agreed to marry. His family was against it, of course. Princes are meant to marry princesses. Not poor gutter trash drowning in student loans…” He paused, corrected himself. “Er, I mean poor gutter trash who was at risk of turning into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight. Yet he was persistent. He liked the way she fucked, you see. He liked the way she begged to be fucked harder.” He went on to imitate her sighs, resuming his gyrations until he cracked up with laughter that nobody shared.

Heather looked away, unable to bear the weight of Angie’s gaze as he described their intimate past together. She felt hideous, humiliated, made worse after spending such loving and comforting times with this girl she loved so. How had she ever been able to surrender herself to this man? To any man?

When at last she summoned up the courage to seek out Angie’s face, offering apologies with her eyes, she found a haunted look wrought over the child’s face. No doubt, the display was causing her to relive the trauma she’d known at the hands of her father.

Richard spoke on. “They moved into a palace together. Soon after, the prince gets involved in bigger and better business opportunities. More wealth than either of them could imagine. She objects, of course. These things are on the, er, grayer side of the law, shall we say? Skirting around the edges of legality, sure… but with all the cash it brings, she doesn’t protest too loudly.” The son of a bitch winked at her then. Her hands ached with the need to snatch the gun from him, to demand he get his filthy hands off her beloved.

“Anyhow, our prince is on top of the world, with all the money, drugs and pussy a man could possibly ask for!” His mouth tightened. “Then one day, the poor, innocent young prince comes home to find that he has been wronged. A great sum of cash is missing from his castle, as well as the pussy he liked to fuck most.” Heather openly scoffed at that, but Richard took no notice. “He was heartbroken, our unfortunate prince. Heartbroken and worried of what had befallen his peasant girl-made-princess, who seemed to have completely forgotten the many, many good things he’d given her. He’d even let it slide that she’d refused to open her legs for him of late. That was fine. He was a patient prince and there were… others, more willing to receive him. Before you think too ill of the prince, know that he never betrayed the peasant girl in his heart. Sure, he enjoyed a little pussy on the side, since hers seemed to be locked up tighter than Fort Fucking Knox, but she was still his wife. That meant something to him, damn it. She… belonged to him. He never forgot that fact. Even if she did.” His mouth tightened.

Damn him, Heather thought. God damn his sick, twisted soul to hell.

Richard looked down at Angie. “We all make mistakes, yeah? Sometimes we get so deep into our own bullshit, we make boneheaded decisions. I’m including myself in that equation, too. Don’t think I’m not. I should have known her unhappiness would lead to some sort of… rash behavior. But I let it go on without taking her in hand, getting her mind right. That’s on me. But…”

He trailed off, letting his gaze drift to Heather. For a moment, his smile took a turn. It was shy, almost innocent, and playful. The smile she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. Usually, it showed itself after a bad ‘dad joke’. She used to find it so charming. Its appearance now was intended to be disarming, to perhaps remind her of what she had left behind, that could still be. Once upon a time, it might have made her swoon, a touch weak in the knees, and earn him a kiss or two.

Now, it made her want to vomit.

“Hey, boss.”

They collectively glanced over at the one he had called Curtis earlier. He stood behind the counter, frustrated and out of breath. “We ain’t findin’ shit here.”

“What do you mean?” Richard shot the pair of girls a warning look before addressing Curtis again. “You couldn’t have checked everywhere.”

Curtis shrugged his broad shoulders. “Only so many places it could be, boss. The kitchen an’ back offices are clean. Just the couple hundred in the register, that’s all we got.” He produced a wad of bills, hastily wrapped up with a rubber band, as evidence to his claim.

Richard sucked on his teeth, thinking quietly to himself before coming to some internal conclusion. “Look one more time. Just to make sure, but…” He paused for dramatic effect, shifting his weight to lean heavily into Angie. She shrank away in response, squeezing herself into the corner of the booth, but Richard fixed the girl with an icy glare. “This is a clear failure to communicate,” he hissed. “A classic case, in fact.” He seized Angie’s chin, forcing her face upward until their eyes met. The gun’s barrel pressed against the twelve-year-old’s throat, making her whimper. “You know what happens to liars… don’t you, cunt?”

Richard was staring at Angie’s face, as if it held the secret he wanted. In a way, it did, as the girl wasn’t looking at him – but past him. Over his shoulder. Following her gaze, he and Heather saw what Angie was seeing.

The old jukebox stood in the corner, shining with benign light. All its track selection buttons were aglow, shining so brightly in the darkness that they could make out individual numbers and names for each artist. She spied Buddy Holly, Fats Domino and The Platters before she was drawn back to Richard and the girl in his clutches. Had it been left on this whole time? She certainly hadn’t noticed when they’d entered the diner, but she was distracted at the time. Now, it seemed impossible to miss, a lighthouse in the middle of a hurricane.

Richard looked from Angie to the old juke and back again, until something occurred to him that had his face glowing almost as brightly. “You sneaky little fox!” he exclaimed, then leaned forward and planted a loud, wet kiss against the girl’s cheek. He practically vaulted out of the booth, leaving a disgusted Angie scrubbing her face with both hands.

Richard stalked over to the jukebox with long, bird-like strides. Cocking an elbow against its radiant face, he hammered it with the butt of his gun, rattling the Plexiglas that housed the much-worn 45’s. Without waiting for a response, he pursed his lips together and whistled. The piercing sound immediately drew Richard’s men in, the trio huddling around the jukebox as if it was a safe in need of cracking.

“You think it’s in here, boss?” Curtis asked, sounding uncertain.

“Hiding in plain sight,” Richard answered with a barking laugh. He backed away. “C’mon, get to work busting this open. You can keep any loose dimes you come across.”

Wondering what would happen to them once Richard saw through Angie’s ruse, Heather looked across the table for Angie, startled to realize that the girl was no longer in her seat.

“Angie…?”

A shot rang out. The front of the jukebox exploded with a shower of sparks, wood paneling, and metal pieces scattering into the air like confetti.

As one, the trio of men slowly turned around. The quiet that followed was unsettling, punctuated only by the ringing in their collective ears from the loud report the gun had made in such a confined space.

There, in the middle of the aisle between the rows of booths, stood Angie. Her feet were wide apart, the gun held aloft in a firm two-handed grip. Her shot had just missed, passing between the cluster of heads and into the front of the old Rock-Ola. She didn’t wait for a response, squeezing off another round that had the three men scrambling to flatten themselves on the tile floor, hands clasped protectively over their skulls.

“Fuck!” the second thug gasped, and Heather realized that she’d not heard him speak until then.

The gun looked positively huge in Angie’s small grip. The force of the shot had sent her staggering backward, the weapon nearly flying out of her hands. She held on, though, her eyes blazing with fury as she faced down the bad guys.

Will anyone call the police if they hear shots coming from the diner? Heather strained her ears for the sound of sirens, but the second blast had deafened her, at least temporarily. Cautiously rising from her seat, she moved to join Angie, suddenly recognizing the gun. It had belonged to the girl’s father, the same one he’d dropped in his death throes. Somewhere in the confusion,  Angie had had the presence of mind to snatch it up and conceal it somewhere in her clothes.

The jukebox groaned, then the sound of a needle skidding across a record erupted from the speakers. The lights flickered once, twice and then died, stealing all sound with it.

“Angie,” Heather breathed. The girl continued to stare ahead, trembling fiercely. Tears streamed down her cheeks, clouding her eyes until it looked like they were melting out of their sockets. Gingerly wrapping a hand around Angie’s outstretched fists, Heather slowly, ever so slowly took the gun from her grasp. “You did good, sweetie. You saved us.”

Richard chuckled humorlessly in the darkness.

Heather trained the gun on their prone forms, coaxing Angie behind her. “We are leaving, Richard. This is done.”

“Like hell it is!”

She fired another shot. The round ricocheted off the linoleum. In the flash of light from the nuzzle, she caught a glimpse of the men cowering tightly together, hands still atop their heads. She spied Richard’s handgun; the one Curtis had handed over earlier, abandoned atop the ruined jukebox. The long silencer was unmistakable.

“On your feet. Slowly. SLOWLY!” She enunciated the word for clarity.

Hands raised, the trio gathered themselves up from the floor. Heather routed them into the kitchen area, marching single file through the swinging door. Richard grumbled the whole time, no doubt infuriated by the unfamiliar circumstance of being at someone else’s mercy. At Heather’s direction, the men seated themselves in a row along the wall, their backs to the ancient oven that dominated a whole corner of Maven’s kitchen.

“Ain’t this cozy,” Richard mocked. He crossed his legs out wide and relaxed back on his palms. He stared daggers beyond the gun leveled at his head, looking into Heather’s eyes. “Don’t you dare think this is the end, you fucking bitch. I’m going to get my money back one way or the–”

Heather cut him off. “Angie,” she said, “Go get the bag.”

At her arm, the girl hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Heather nodded wordlessly, this simple gesture enough to let Angie know there would be no arguing. Her mind was made up, resolved that if this ended the insanity, it would be well worth it.

A lifetime seemed to pass between the sounds of the front door chiming open and closed. The gun weighed heavily in her sweaty hands. Heather was on pins and needles, wondering how many guns they might have on them, strapped to their ankles or tucked into the band of their pants. Her frayed emotions threatened to carry her right over the edge, until every shift of shadow seemed to be one of the men going for an unseen weapon.

“Heather…?” Angie was at her side again. She hadn’t heard the child reenter.

Startled to within an inch of her life, Heather erupted with a strangled cry, squeezing the trigger. The bullet went wide, burying itself into the guts of the old oven with such force that the wide door on the front spilled open.

The unnamed thug bellowed, “Fuck, lady! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

She was quick to recover, training the gun back on her target. “One wrong move, and it’ll be your fucking head.” She tried to play it off as if the shot had been intentional. Whether it worked or not, she had no idea, but that hardly mattered. “Angie, put the bag down.”

The girl did as instructed.

“This what you’re after?” Heather booted the satchel across the space between them. She’d intended for it to settle squarely between Richard’s splayed legs. He certainly would have appreciated the symbolism of the gesture. The heavy bag only made it halfway, however, before upending and popping open. Fat wads of cash spilled onto the tile, some of the rubber bands snapping loose. “There. Take it. This is done. Over. Do you hear me, Richard? Over!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.” He didn’t miss a beat. “You can’t believe this was about money. Only about money, anyway. You’re smarter than that, princess. No one leaves me, not unless I want them gone. No one!” Richard’s hands were opening and closing, his body taut with anger. “Go ahead and run again; you’ll never escape me. I’m going to keep after you, chase you to the ends of the earth. I’ll use every connection I have, spare no expense… Oh, it might take a lifetime. But sooner or later…” He let the rest go unsaid. Shaping his hand into a gun, he extended the thumb and forefinger, firing off an invisible shot aimed at her forehead.

Heather had desperately hoped that the money would be enough to buy their lives. I should have known better. There isn’t enough money in the world to make things right with Richard, not when his pride takes a hit. He’d been bested, even humiliated in front of his own men, and that set a price that could only be repaid in blood. Hers, certainly – now Angie’s as well.

She understood now that they would never know a moment’s rest, not while Richard Valentine walked the earth. She and Angie could run, they could hide, but there was no peace to be had. She would always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if this would be the day that someone put a bullet in her back.

Heather was snapped out of her brooding by the sound of the flint wheel of a lighter struggling to ignite. She quickly turned to Angie, who held a cigarette between her lips, trying and failing to light it.

Catching Heather’s glance, the girl sighed, “I know, I know. I’ll quit tomorrow. Right now, I need this.”

But that wasn’t what had Heather so concerned. Thinking quickly, she cupped a hand over Angie’s, taking the lighter away. “Go wait by the car.” The child started to protest, but Heather shot her a warning look. “Please. I’ll be out there soon. Just go. Now.”

“Fine!” With an angry huff, Angie threw down her unlit cigarette and stalked off.

Heather waited, counting slowly in her head until enough time had passed for her young lover to have reached the end of the block. But would she stay there? What concerned her now was Angie’s natural stubbornness. Please, PLEASE make her do what I say, just this once!

“We’re going now,” she announced, laying a hand on the swinging door.

“Oh, we’ll give you a head start. Right, fellas? A nice slow count of One Hundred Elephants before we come chasing after.” He puckered his lips together, making loud kissy noises at her.

That’s good, she thought. Keep it up, asshole. The more he taunted her and made a fool out of himself, the less chance that he would notice the smell of gas creeping into the room from the busted pipe in the oven.

The door swung closed and, good to his word, Richard began to loudly count out the time. “One elephant! Two elephants! Three elephants! Four, count ‘em FOUR elephants! Five! That is FIVE elephants!” He could hardly contain himself, comfortable in the knowledge that his victory had merely been postponed.

Whispering an apology to Mama Maven for what she was about to do, Heather flicked the lighter, then held the butane flame to one of the tacky old curtains fixed into the windows. They caught immediately. By the time Heather rushed out of the diner, the flames were licking at the ceiling fixtures, bringing the row of windows facing the road to life with a light that seemed to pulse like a great artery.

The heart of Oasis, she thought, running as hard and fast as she was able.

The blast that followed nearly bowled her over, lighting up the night for an instant. Seconds later, debris from the cafe began to rain down; luckily, Heather had managed to get past the worst of it. Batting a scorched menu away from her face, she stumbled toward her car, mouthing a prayer of thanks when she spied a frantic Angie standing next to it. They flew into each other’s arms.

***

The explosion of Mama Maven’s diner did more than destroy the building. The flames quickly spread to other businesses in the neighborhood, many of them already vacant. Soon, the whole block was ablaze. Some buildings escaped the holocaust, but had their roofs damaged by the falling debris. The force of the blast also shattered dozens of windows, enough that a couple of glaziers were brought over from a neighboring town to assist in replacing them. One local World War II veteran was sent into cardiac arrest and died before first responders could reach him.

By the time the last of the blaze was extinguished, and full stock of the aftermath could be taken, most of downtown Oasis had vanished. What replaced it was twisted, ugly spires of charred wreckage. Even the library, so famous for weathering such calamities in the past, had burned to its foundation. It seemed that the cancer that had slowly eaten away at this town had finally come to surface and claimed what remained. What wasn’t taken by the economy, disrepair and the harsh conditions of the desert had been collected at last.

Amongst the wreckage was a pair of early rescues, young women wrapped up in a Mylar blanket together, coated in a layer of soot so thick they were nearly lost in the gloom. The aftermath was so chaotic that the emergency teams failed to notice them sharing a passionate kiss, the two of them overjoyed to be alive and safe.

The investigation was brief, yet as thorough as could be expected with such limited resources. Much of the evidence was either destroyed in the explosion or lost in the ensuing fire that raged for hours afterward. All the authorities could establish with any certainty was that the blaze had originated at the diner, spreading after a gas leak triggered an explosion, and three horribly charred bodies were found amid the wreckage. It was quickly established that these men weren’t locals, and that two of them had been carrying guns.

These three strangers were quickly linked to an unfamiliar luxury sedan, parked just down the road. It had been scorched in the fire, but was still intact. Upon searching the vehicle, the body of local garage owner Travis Lawrence was found in the car trunk. He’d been killed by a single gunshot, then his corpse wrapped in thick plastic. The bullet was traced to one of the guns that had been recovered from the cafe explosion.

Only one of these mysterious men could be identified from the charred remains – an ex-con named Curtis Grotowski, pinpointed by prison dental records from his three-year stretch in Nebraska for armed assault. The sedan’s out-of-state license plates were run through the system, but that proved to be a dead-end when it was discovered that the car had been registered under a false identity.

In the end, no one could produce a satisfying explanation for the disaster. Some suspected that the three men in the diner had intended to rob the place… but how did Travis Lawrence fit into the scenario? Had he been in cahoots with these strangers, then double-crossed? Or had he tried to interfere with their scheme and gotten killed for it? The answer remained tantalizingly out of reach, a bottomless source of speculation and gossip for the locals.

One of the businesses to escape the worst of the fire’s wrath was Walter’s motel. He sustained damage to the side facing the road that he shared with the diner. One wing had been burned to the ground, but the rest was no worse for wear, and he was able to reopen within a couple of days.

Heather and her things were moved to another room, where she awaited each day with apprehension and dread, expecting the sheriff to come calling with a warrant for her arrest. When she finally did hear a knock at the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin. But instead of a lawman bearing handcuffs, her visitor was none other than Mama Maven’s attorney Calvin Wynn.

After she’d ushered him inside and pleasantries were exchanged, Calvin informed her that the insurance adjusters were wrapping up their investigation of the explosion, and as the new owner of the cafe, she stood to inherit a generous amount of money from its loss of the cafe.

When Heather learned of the amount, she nearly keeled over. Not quite the half million she’d taken from Richard, but it was enough for her to start over. A clean slate, at long last.

She didn’t get to see very much of Angie much after the fire. The police were busy trying to locate her next of kin, with no success. In the meantime, she was staying with the sheriff and his wife, which meant that she spent her days loitering around the police station with very little to do beyond sulk the days away.

Before long, Angie had taken to spending her time sitting at the sheriff’s mammoth desk, drawing on the back sides of old faxed documents. She only had a handful of broken crayons to use, but made do with them. Heather dropped in from time to time to visit, but the effort of keeping their feelings hidden made this time together less enjoyable than it should have been. Just glancing into Angie’s eyes filled Heather with a desire so acute, it made her stomach hurt.

At least the sheriff was always happy to see someone paying attention to Angie. “That poor girl’s been through a lot,” he told Heather. “Hell of a thing, losin’ her daddy that way.” In fact, Angie couldn’t have been happier to be rid of Travis, who had done more than anyone to make her childhood a misery. She was careful to pretend to mourn his demise – at least, when there were witnesses at hand.

One morning, the sheriff’s wife went to rouse young Angie for breakfast, only to find her bed empty. It had not even been slept in. Shortly thereafter, it was discovered that Heather had vanished as well.

Fearing the worst, a state-wide manhunt was organized, complete with missing person notices and an Amber alert. A cash award was posted for any information leading to the pair’s whereabouts, a reward that would ultimately go unclaimed.

Weeks would turn into months, with no sign of Heather or Angie. The town of Oasis would carry on, of course. The locals would eventually spin their own sordid tales of what had become of the two girls, concocting wild stories that blamed everything from drug cartels to Satanic cults to space aliens.

More than a year later, a true crime TV show known for revisiting cold case files brought on a witness who had not come forward before, a motel owner who claimed to have rented a room to a woman with a young girl who closely resembled Angie Lawrence and Heather Freemantle. “There was somethin’ about them that made me wonder, though,” he said. “She said the girl was her daughter, but I could tell that she wasn’t. So I took a few pictures of them through the window.”

The TV screen shifted to a few grainy images of a woman and a preteen girl taking suitcases from a car.  They were both wearing baseball caps and sunglasses. The photos were taken from too far away for a positive identification to be made, the narrator’s voice explained.

The show continued with the interviewer asking the motel owner about the couple’s demeanor – did they seem to be under duress or agitated? The man could only shrug. “Not so’s I could tell,” he said.

The last picture was taken the next morning; it showed the mysterious woman in her car, pulling out of the lot with the girl at her side, both of them still wearing shades and caps. The photo shows what appears to be the woman reaching over to adjust the gearshift. The investigators had no idea that, if glimpsed from a certain angle, the woman was actually placing her right hand between the girl’s legs.

***

Nearly five months after the explosion in Oasis, a small west coast town saw the arrival of two new residents. Their names were Samantha and Danielle Worthington, a recently divorced mother looking to start over in a new location with her daughter. They could be rather quiet and private, but most of their neighbors took to them fairly quickly. Within a few weeks, the Worthingtons were part of the community.

It hadn’t taken long for Heather to find her contact, the forger who had offered her a new identity for the right price. He was taken aback to learn that he’d need to manifest a second set of documents, these intended for a child. The man asked no questions, but it took several weeks longer than expected before Heather and Angie were able to reemerge with their new names. The process had taken a considerable bite out of their bankroll, but enough remained for Heather to rent a small home in a quiet neighborhood.

Heather, now Samantha, took a job doing secretarial work at a law office. Her daughter Dani, formerly known as Angie, would attend school in the following semester, showing certain proclivities towards art and theater. She was, in the opinion of her teachers, a natural.

The two of them pitched in together to do up the second bedroom for appearance’s sake, decorating the space to reflect the typical interests of young girls. There were boy band posters and fairy lights on the walls, glow-in-the-dark stars and planets along the ceiling and stuffed animals on the bed. Everything was done up in pastels, right down to the sheets on the twin-sized mattress. The bed was seldom used, though, since Angie nearly always slept with Heather. As for the room, she mostly used it to study or hang out with her friends.

To the outside world, ‘Samantha’ and ‘Dani’ seemed anything but unusual – a friendly, attractive single mom and her cute, precocious preteen daughter. But once their doors were closed and the shades drawn, the woman and the girl melted into each other’s arms, their mouths meeting in a heated, hungry kiss.

For the first few weeks in their new home, Heather and Angie were insatiable, making love over and over again. Most of their free time was spent naked. Why bother getting dressed, if they were only going to be taken off again?

Eventually a rhythm began to take shape in the household – a careful balance between Heather raising Angie into womanhood, and their life together as lovers. There were growing pains, naturally. Was it Heather the ‘mother’ telling Angie to do her homework after dinner? Was it Angie the ‘daughter’ who roused Heather from sleep, hungry for sex?

Sometimes Heather gave Angie dance lessons after dinner. Sometimes they didn’t finish dinner at all.

Sex was a crucial component of their nightly routine, after which the two lovers would drift into slumber together, naked and entwined beneath the sheets.

We will withdraw now while Angie and Heather are in bed together, watching a movie in their pajamas, a bowl of popcorn balanced on Heather’s tummy. To linger too long would be impolite… and we’ve been their accomplices long enough.

They deserve to be alone.

The End

***

Afterword

Wow! Just…wow, right? It’s finished, caput, donesville! After so many years in the making, allow me to simply pause for a bit and just taking in the magnitude of this accomplishment. Sure, this is a niche tale for a niche audience but I’ve always been so very passionate about Desert Rose and seeing these wonderful characters to their conclusion. I know this has been a long time coming and to see that so many people here are still reading it and commenting and showing so much love and support for this little tale of mine just fills my heart beyond what words can express. I’m so glad I was able to entertain you all, so from the very bottom and sincerest point of my being, I want to thank you. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for being a constant show of support and inspiration. Without the fine folks at JS, I can say this tale never would have been completed at all.

So background!

The basis for YDR came for my desire to write out a more traditional mystery story, about a young woman fleeing her old life and an abusive relationship and starting over. Her sordid past would clash with the seedier underbelly of a small town until both come to a head during a thrilling climax where she is forced to confront her demons. Sort of a Nicholas Sparks meets Gillian Flynn tale with no erotic themes whatsoever.

With this nugget of an idea gestating in my imagination, over the next few months more details emerged: what the town would look like, some of the locals, details about the past she was escaping, etc. I toyed with the idea of a romantic subplot, playing with more themes of deception therein and being a gay woman, I naturally gravitated towards making her love interest another woman. Perhaps the smalltown diner owner.

As a structure began taking shape and I started toying with the idea of writing this out and seeing how the heroine does in the first few chapters, I stumbled across a particular site that catered to shall we say, unique kinks?

So, I reached out and struck up a great dialogue with Cheryl who embraced not only my story right away but ME as a new author. My biggest regret in writing for JS was I never got to fully tell her how invaluable I found help during those early days of churning out the story. She was insightful and funny, a true guiding light in her editing that only made the story better and better. Cheryl Taggart, if you are out there, you were the best <3

What started out as a thriller gradually became a tale of forbidden romance, and I was far more interested in exploring those themes and complex emotions that would go with it than simply writing out a ‘wanker’. That said, seeing all the feedback wondering about the lack of sex, I did feel somewhat pressured to include more than I had planned. In fact, there was a subplot where, after Angie learns of Heather’s determination to flee Oasis before Richard can find her, she demands they go on a date together. It takes some convincing, naturally but they eventually steal off together and head to where else? VEGAS, BABY! I would then reserve a handful of chapters of the two of them getting into all sorts of fun shenanigans and there was even a cameo appearance planned by Naughty Mommy’s own mischievous seductress, Bambi. Before you get TOO excited, it was nothing more than a small bit that was more intended to be a wink-wink to the audience wherein Heather and Angie glimpse her playing the ‘Lost Girl Game’ in the lobby of the hotel they are staying in. Just before they can go up and inquire about her well-being, another couple intercepts and our girls leave, thinking whoever she was is in capable hands.

Yet, in the end, I chose to excise these passages and for a variety of reasons. Chiefly, it slowed the pace of the story down to a crawl to which it never fully recovers, and it didn’t really feel like they fit in with the rest of the story. The chapters felt indulgent and wholly unnecessary, no matter how many times I wrote and rewrote them, they just never clicked with the rest of the narrative. The story is the boss here and keeping things moving and focused on their shared plight was the honest thing to do. Anything else would have been a betrayal to their journey and a ‘lost weekend’ would have only muddled things needlessly. This decision proved to be such a headache, I set the entire tale aside for a while and wrote out another story in the meantime. A nice spa where women of a particular variety could go and be pampered and indulge their most carnal of desires before returning to the real world as the movers and shakers they publicly were.

One thing that did not shift or change in my mind was the ending. I always intended to give them a happily ever after. They deserved nothing less. I hope you all feel the same way and are satisfied by the conclusion and are looking forward to my next tale of sapphic debauchery. I can promise you it won’t be nearly as long (fingers crossed!)

Thanks from the bottom of my heart to JetBoy for stepping in to fill the role of editor for me. As much as I gushed about Cheryl’s guidance above, his help was equally invaluable, and I appreciate every bit of advice and revision suggestion he could offer.

Personal shout outs to Purple Les, Naughty Mommy, Amanda Lynn, eloquent delinquent and Ebo for crafting a few favorites that I frequently revisit for inspiration (among other things 😉)

And lastly but certainly not least, thank you to all the fine readers of Juicy Secrets for sticking with this story until the end. I know it’s been a long journey to those marvelous words ‘THE END’ and your patience, support and understanding while I overcame personal obstacles to see this through to the end is more precious to me than you will ever know.

 

 

Introduction from JetBoy: For those who are a little late getting to this story, there’s a bit of a twist to its history, which you’ll notice if you take the time to trawl though the numerous comments below.

In the original story that Keiko wrote, then I edited and proofed, the daughter of the narrator is an infant girl who is included in the sexual activity. After it was posted, some of our readers objected very strongly to this aspect of the plot… and one keen-eyed reader pointed out that it was also in violation of Juicy Secrets policy. After consulting Keiko, she and I agreed that the best course of action was to take the story down and rewrite it so that the daughter, while still extremely young, was at least old enough to consent to participate in the lovemaking. (Consent being the operative word here.)

Then, as some of you may already have anticipated, other readers objected to the site’s censorship of the story. So it goes. The surest path to insanity is trying to please everyone.

Anyhow, here is our reworked version of “The Corruption of Amy.” We hope that you’ll give it a fair shake (and perhaps shake a few other things, while you’re at it.) As for the original version, I’ve already suggested to Keiko that she posts it at Lesbian Lolita, whose rules are a bit more casual than ours.

Thanks for reading… and feel free to add to the dialogue in the comments.

   ***

By BabyKeiko 

I should know better. I’m thirty-one. I have a child, a husband. I was raised to know the difference between right and wrong. I even go to church — granted, only on special occasions, but I still understand sin and redemption, how they work. I’ve got a moral compass.

But I can’t help what happens when the craving takes me. Can’t help my depravity. My sick desire. It’s so strong, so all-consuming that it makes me lose sight of my better self, turns me into a wanton whore, with no thought but to satisfy this hunger that hisses and snarls inside me.

So that’s why I’m here on the couch with my body lewdly exposed, fully naked. My three-year-old daughter Nina is nestled in my lap, nursing from my breasts, only wearing tiny white underpants.

My pussy is inflamed. Wet. Wanting.

I’m seated in front of Amy. Fourteen-year-old Amy. My depravity muse. My partner in crime.

“Take your clothes off,” I tell Amy. And she does.

It thrills me that she still blushes as she undresses for me. These emotions that run through Amy when we play our twisted games are so powerful, so all consuming… is it any wonder that the blood always rushes to her pale cheeks? My underage lover is flushed with need. With shyness. Perhaps even a touch of shame; I wouldn’t be surprised.

Amy gradually exposes her ripening body, one piece of clothing at a time. Her youthful breasts are still growing, defying gravity. Puffy nipples. She’s a newly blossoming teen, beginning to assume a womanly shape. She will have a generous bust, once she achieves full maturity. Her pubes are as red as the short hair on her head. Lovely as she is, Amy is even lovelier out of her clothes.

With each visit to me she’s discovering more of her own needs. Her unspeakable desires. Her willing submission. Which I exploit. I encourage. And I get off on it, on corrupting this young girl. It’s so wrong, yet more intense than any sexual thrill I’ve ever known.

I make Amy do what arouses me to the point where I am beyond all caring. When all that matters is the searing heat of my lust. And hers. Because what makes this so intoxicating is that I know her triggers. I know them because they’re the same as mine. But I direct Amy to express her desire and act on it so that I’ll be able to tell myself I’m not like that.

Except that I am like that. Perhaps even more “like that” than I want to admit.

And for Amy, being manipulated by an adult, a mother, allows her to rationalize what she does away, to tell herself that she can’t help what happens. It wasn’t her. She’s only a young girl, doing what she’s been told. Adults know better. They know what is right and wrong. So if a grownup tells her to do something, who is she to refuse to obey?

We’re both winners in our mutual corruption. We both can rationalize our depravity, explain it away.

“Sit in front of me,” I tell Amy. I open my legs so she has room to scoot in between them.

She obeys, her face glowing with the satisfaction of being told what to do. Knowing and hoping I’ll let her satisfy her secret hunger. It’s all she needs from me. To help her explore, and more importantly, coax her to enter willingly, joyously, into our shared depravity.

“Does this make you happy?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers, locking eyes with me. I see her spark… her need… her submission.

Amy directs her eyes to my breasts. Actually, to one particular breast — the one my little girl is suckling, mouth attached to my nipple. Of course, I no longer have milk to give, but little Nina still loves to nurse… and few things in life please me more than making my daughter happy.

Amy’s gaze shifts to the other breast, blue veined and drooping ever so slightly. The one with no little girl attached to it. My exposed nipple is stiff and straining outward as if seeking another loving mouth.

“Does this excite you?” I ask her.

“Yes,” she concedes. She is unable to deny the truth to me. Or to herself.

“Does it make your pussy wet?” I ask.

When I ask Amy these questions, she can only be honest, and so once more she says, “Yes.” The pink in her cheeks turns a shade darker red from having voiced that yes, openly admitting that watching a naked woman nurse a nearly-naked child arouses her desire. And Amy’s excitement is only intensified by her own nudity, the thrill she gets from displaying her young, still developing body to me.

“Show me,” I tell her. “Prove to me that you really are wet.”

Her eyes flicker back up to mine. She slips her right hand between her knees, which she spreads, still seated between my wide open legs. I see her pussy. I see the red curls, so sparse, on her pubic bone and around those surprisingly prominent labia. She spreads her butterfly open for me.

And there it is: glistening pussy cream, the true evidence of her forbidden lust. A big white pearl of it is emerging from the opening of her fourteen-year-old cunt.

The sight of Amy’s sex opened by her own fingers… the puffed-up nipples on those sweet pubescent breasts… her cheeks flushed with the excitement of following my orders, as well as the shame she feels for loving what we do so much, along with the knowledge that we’ll be doing those very things quite soon… all those things I see, taken in combination with my daughter’s insistent tug-tug-tug nursing on my breast, is nearly enough to make me come.

Almost enough — but I manage to suppress it for now. Sweet agony. Standing close to the beckoning fire,  but not yet allowing myself to dance into the flames. I love that feeling.

As I watch Amy sitting there, her wet, shining labia spread open for me, I know she wants to go further. I see her labored breath. I feel her anxiety and the need to leave her comfort zone, to venture into a new, dangerous place.

And I will help this precious girl of fourteen get what she wants. Because if I tell her to, she can’t say no.

“Tell my daughter hello,” I say. “Aren’t you glad to see her?”

“Um, h-hi, Nina,” Amy says. “How are you?” Her words are utterly mundane, but they seem to crackle with the deep-banked desire she feels for my child.

Nina breaks contact with my swollen nipple, turning to give Amy a sunny smile. “H’lo, Amy,” she says, reaching out to the older girl.

With a tiny sob, Amy takes my three-year-old into her arms, hugging Nina to her bare chest. They share a loving embrace.

Amy is so caught up in the moment that I half expect her to cry. “I… I love you, Nina,” she adds.

My child touches the teen’s face with her little hand. “I love you, too,” she coos. “An’ so does Mommy!”

Amy glances up at me, reading the passion that smolders in my eyes. It’s true: this shy but amazingly intense girl of fourteen is my lover, and my feelings for her sometimes threaten to consume me whole.

And yet, what we share can hardly be called romance. Not for us the gift of flowers, or the murmur of sweet nothings. No, our love is that of sinners, and it is firmly rooted in the forbidden need that Amy and I share.

Now the time has come to fully explore that hunger, to reach for the cup and drain it to the dregs.

I smile down at my daughter. “Shall we play our game now, sweetheart?”

She twists around to peer up at me, “Yes, Mommy!”

“Ah, but today, we’re going to make the game a little different,” I tell her. “You see, Amy wants to play with us. She’s taken off all of her clothes, so she can be part of the game. Would you like that?”

Nina all but bounces in my lap, her eyes dancing with glee. “Yay!” She wheels around to face her older friend. “Yes! Play, Amy!”

“Okay,” my teenage lover whispers. She tries to sound relaxed, but I notice that her hands are trembling. She glances at me, then looks away, her cheeks a bright pink.

It’s time, my girl. We’re going to make your dream happen.

Still cradling Nina, I shift her about so that she’s facing Amy, her little legs parted slightly. I notice Amy stealing a peek between them, and feel a renewed surge of lust. “Take her underpants off,” I say, nodding down at my daughter.

Amy hesitantly reaches out, the fingers that just opened her pussy now brushing the front of Nina’s panties. She is overcome with mingled excitement, sexual heat and fear, possibly on the verge of tears. It’s a lot to deal with for a girl of fourteen.

She carefully takes hold of the waistband, giving it an experimental tug. I lift Nina slightly, and Amy pulls the white cotton underwear down the child’s legs and over her feet. Now we are all naked.

Amy sits back, resting on her heels. Her eyes roam over my daughter’s bare body. Nina’s smooth slit is now openly displayed for Amy. The hunger in her eyes… my God, I can almost extend my hand and touch it.

I tickle my daughter’s chin. “Sweetheart? Do you like letting Amy see you this way? With no clothes on?”

“Mmm-hmm!” Nina responds, giving her head an eager nod.

“What about you?” I ask, looking up at a dazed Amy. Do you like looking at my little girl when she’s naked?”

“Yes,” she replies in a barely heard whisper.

“Does she… “ I pause for dramatic effect, “…does she excite you when she’s naked? Get you hot?”

This answer is even softer. “Yes.”

I make her say it. I make fourteen-year-old Amy admit out loud that she is sexually aroused by the sight of my naked three-year-old. I feel my pussy drip and throb, the anticipation of what is to come almost enough to bring me so close, so close to release…

I moan, then take a deep, calming breath. Not yet, damn it. Don’t you come.

“Do you like her little belly button?” I ask, gently caressing Nina’s impossibly soft tummy.

Amy is no longer capable of words. She sits, staring, mesmerized, her cheeks flushed crimson. Redheads do have a tendency of blushing deeply. Amy is flushed all the way from her face to her chest, even between those annoyingly perky breasts.

“Do you like seeing her nipples?” I ask Amy, looking at her face. Her eyes are glued to my hand, gently caressing my daughter’s chest, teasing those tiny buds to stiffness. Nina sighs blissfully, Amy swallows hard.

“Do you?” I ask again.

“Yes… yes, I do.” Amy’s agreement comes suddenly, as if she’s just realized that if I didn’t get an answer then and there, this magical intimacy will immediately cease. And fourteen-year-old Amy, my beautiful young lover, doesn’t want it to stop.

I’ve helped her to understand the truth: not only is she into women and girls… but she’s into little girls, the kind of love that could destroy her life if the secret ever got out. I wonder sometimes if the sheer danger of it all is just another part of the pleasure Amy feels at moments like these.

“What do you like seeing most?” I ask her. I need Amy to admit it, to tell me what she wants.

Amy looks up at me, eyes full of panicked realization, because she knows where I’m leading her.

“You can tell me, Amy,” I say, “It’s not like I don’t know.” Her eyes now follow my caressing hand again. It glides up and down my child’s thin legs.

“Her p-pussy,” whispers Amy, her voice filled with mingled need and shame. Though by this time, the need seems to be winning out.

“That’s right,” I reply, “You like my little girl’s pussy… don’t you, Amy?”

“Yes,” she says, admitting defeat. Somehow, though, it’s also a victory.

“Tell her. Tell Nina that. She likes to hear how pretty she is… everywhere. Even there.”

Amy’s cheeks pinken again, but she does manage to say, “I… I love your pussy, Nina. It’s every b-bit as pretty as the rest of you.”

Nina is pleased, of course. My little one adores being complimented. “Say ‘thank you, Amy’,” I tell her.

“Thank you, Amy,” my child lisps, beaming with delight.

“Open her legs,” I tell my teenage lover.

This is where my corruption and Amy’s wanting leads us. Where I will find the sweet release that I ache for.

Amy slowly reaches out to touch Nina’s legs… then hesitates. A line is being crossed, and she knows it.

We’ve come too far to back down, though. I place my free hand on Amy’s, helping her to open my little girl’s thighs until her smooth, pink vulva is fully exposed.

I don’t mind helping Amy do this. Because I want it every bit as much as she does.

“Isn’t she absolutely perfect?” I ask Amy. I’m holding her hand in place, on that incredibly soft thigh.

“Yes.” Her voice is tense with lust.

“And I know what you want to do to her, Amy… We both know, don’t we?”

A labored, whispered: “Yes…”

“Go on… lick Nina’s pussy. That’s what you need, isn’t it?” I’m not really asking, just stating a fact.

She looks up at me again, her eyes brimming with tears — of shame? Of joy? I can’t say.

Turning away, Amy slowly bends down until her face is nestled between Nina’s thighs. And then this girl of fourteen starts to lick, making love to my daughter’s treasure.

My little one is slumping against me, a dreamy cast to her eyes, one I know well from the many times I have pleased her with my mouth. I offer her a breast, and she eagerly latches on, sucking with a vigor that feels positively divine. Reaching down to my aching vulva, I plunge two fingers inside and roll them around, massaging the vaginal walls, then seek out and find the clit with my thumb, working it like a switch.

I feel the storm rising swiftly inside me, the pressure mounting, then boiling over as a massive orgasm swallows me whole, liberating my body from hours’ worth of built up sexual tension…

God, I needed that. Take some of the pressure off. Still, my lust remains undiminished. In fact, now I’m more  ready than ever to complete my corruption of Amy.

I run my fingers through her long, luxurious hair while she goes down on my child, alternating between tender kisses, swipes of the tongue and sucking at her slit. I’ve felt Amy’s mouth between my own legs more than a few times, and know how good she is at giving pleasure.

I encourage her – not that she needs it. “That’s it, child… lick my little girl’s cunt, make her happy — make her your lover.”

Sliding my index finger between Amy’s lips, her tongue and Nina’s moist slit, I begin to masturbate my daughter while my teenage partner in crime continues to lick. I feel my vagina swell and contract, fueled by the purest undistilled lust.

“Touch yourself,” I tell Amy. I see and feel her hand as it slips between those slender legs, finding her pussy. She’s dripping with nectar, enough for it to trickle down her inner thighs. A moan escapes her lips, somewhat muffled by my child’s vulva.

My perverted dream is coming true. I’ve made an underage girl play with herself, kneeling between my legs while she goes down on my little girl. Nina is beside herself with delight, her little eyes dancing. It’s almost enough to send me over the edge again. Not yet, though… not yet.

I lift Amy’s face from my daughter’s pretty pink slit, a finger under her chin. Her face is flushed from what must be a crazy-quilt mixture of emotions. I understand completely; what we’re doing is a lot for a girl of fourteen to process.

“Keep playing with yourself, Amy,” I tell her… and even though I can’t see for myself, I know that she is obeying me.

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice sounding as tortured from the need for release as her body surely is.

“Would you like to feed Nina now?” I ask Amy. Our eyes are locked. She gives me a quick nod.

“You may, then… but keep playing with yourself — that’ll make it even better.”

I peek down at my little one, still sucking at Mommy’s lust-engorged nipple. “Sweetie,” I tell her, “Amy would like to nurse you now. She wants to feel that pretty mouth of yours on her nipple. Okay?”

Tilting her head, Nina looks up at me, a bit dazed from the lovely feelings we’ve been giving her. “‘Kay,” she murmurs, then smiles at her new lover.

Amy rises to her knees, and I steer her upper body toward mine. My eyes are drawn to those blossoming breasts — so utterly perfect, even when she bends toward the naked little girl in my lap. I had a body like hers in my teenage days, before I became pregnant with Nina.

Her breasts are now inches from my daughter’s face. “Let me help you,” I say, and guide her soft breast towards Nina’s mouth.

My three-year-old loves to nurse. For her, a teat is no longer a source of food, but it’s still a lovely way to bond with Mommy. So it’s no surprise to see her take to Amy’s nipple, just as if it belonged to me.

“Ohhh… oh God,” I hear Amy moan.

“I know, I know…” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

Believe me, I understand exactly how you feel, Amy… because I’ve experienced it so many times myself, often with a hand tucked between my thighs, fingers buried deep inside, probing myself. There’s nothing like it, that soft, warm mouth tug, tug, tugging at your breast.

Amy moans again. I nibble her neck, then whisper, “Talk to me… tell me everything. Isn’t it lovely, my child’s sweet little mouth?”

“Oooh wow, y-yes,” she stutters, practically glowing with the love and desire she feels. “I love it – I love her.”

“Are you still playing with yourself?”

Amy doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. I can see her arm moving, hear the wet sound of fingers exploring her creamy hole. I know how she gets herself off — not from penetration, but from rubbing the length of her vaginal cleft from clit to opening, sometimes dipping inside very slightly. Her movements are erratic as the heat builds inside… going slowly, then faster, then slowly again. She is spreading thick, warm wetness all around her pussy to help her fingers glide up and down, building up friction in all the right spots.

Amy’s lips are parted in ecstasy, and I find myself wanting to taste them. “Kiss me,” I say to my young lover.

She tilts her head back, her face meets mine and I crush my lips into hers, licking into her mouth. Amy’s tongue immediately joins in the lewd dance. She moans like an animal in heat… then again, isn’t that what she is?

We share a passionate kiss of lovers. A thirty-one-year-old mother and a barely pubescent girl. My heart is swelling in triumph. I’ve made Amy do the unspeakable. I’ve encouraged her to make love to my child of three, and to allow Nina to love her in return.

I’m so close to coming again, keyed up by the sheer perversion of what we’re doing… and Amy’s luscious kisses only make the need for release more intense.

I feel Amy’s labored breaths, sense the motion of her hand as she continues to masturbate, bent forward over my lap, her nipple stimulated by my child’s warm mouth. She hums with pleasure as my tongue plays wicked games with hers.

In between kisses, I edge Amy further. “You love my little girl’s body, don’t you? So sweet, so forbidden…”

An excited shiver races through her slender frame, giving me my answer.

“And licking her smooth little cunny, yes. Don’t you love doing that, giving my child pleasure with your mouth?”

Amy’s lips, wet with kissing, are so close to mine that her words seem to enter my mouth. “Ooooh God, please don’t…” She wants me to stop questioning her, stop reminding her of what she just did.

But I’m too far gone to oblige her. “Answer me!” I demand.

“Yes!” Amy cries. I am pushing the poor girl deeper into self-awareness, perhaps further than she wants to go… but it’s for her own good. She has to embrace her true self, recognize this fierce craving as part of who she is.

“Is that why you’re touching yourself, then?” I continue. “Because that’s how much it thrills you, going down on my little girl, licking her cunt? Letting her suck your nipples?”

My young lover is on the verge of blessed oblivion as I make her face the truth: that she, fourteen-year-old Amy, an all around good girl, straight-A student and glee club member, is caught up in a helpless craving for lesbian sex with an older woman and her pre-nursery school daughter. That her need is stronger than rational thought. That she can’t stop herself from giving in to these twisted desires, even if she wanted to.

I’m about to come as well, awed by how utterly I’ve corrupted this once innocent teen. We’re in it together, partners in perversion… and it makes me so goddamned hot.

“Do you want to be fucked?” I ask Amy, using the crude word on purpose. She’s not the kind of girl who talks like that. I’ve teased her about it a few times.

Her face is so close to mine that I can read the struggle in her eyes. Amy shudders, moans… her arm still pumping, the busy hand a blur between her parted thighs.

“Don’t you come yet, girl!” I tell her, my tone razor-sharp. “Not until you answer my question.”

“Yes,” gasps Amy. “Yes, I — I want to fuck!”

I peer over the girl’s shoulder for a good look at Amy’s mother Sue, who is sitting in a chair in the corner. She is naked, just as we are, and masturbating as she watches us.

Sue is an older version of her daughter, still quite attractive in her late thirties, with generous breasts that, I suspect, look very much like Amy’s will when she fully ripens. Not quite as firm as they once were, perhaps, but impressive in size and shape, and her tummy is soft and welcoming. Sue has her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face has a few lines, but they only emphasize her mature beauty.

At this moment, Amy’s mother seems to radiate desire — hardly surprising, seeing as she’s been observing our lewd games from the very start.

Sue was my lover first… but she was surprisingly understanding when I admitted to my attraction to Amy. Not long after that, she realized that her daughter was nursing a huge crush on me as well.

She has a medium sized dildo in her hand that she slowly works in and out of her pussy. The toy hums as it vibrates deep inside her cunt.

Of course I’ve corrupted her, too. Sue and her daughter have both been drawn a step at a time into my world of sex, lust and depravity. Now, though, it’s time for her to do more than just watch.

“Come here, Sue,” I tell her.

Her generous breasts wobble as she rises, the glistening dildo in her hand, and pads over to where Amy is bent forward in my lap, her nipple still in my child’s mouth.

Little Nina is lying on her back, head nestled between my breasts. She is happily sandwiched between my body and Amy’s, warm and cozy.

“Get down on your knees,” I tell Sue. She obediently positions herself behind Amy. “Touch her,” I say. “Touch your daughter’s cunt.”

Surprised, Amy raises her head. Until now, her mother has only been a witness to our forbidden games, and has yet to participate. That changes now.

Sue is staring at me. She wasn’t expecting this, either. “I – I shouldn’t…”

“You should,” I tell her. “It’s what you want, after all.”

Amy’s eyes widen when she hears that. I can practically read her thoughts. Mom wants to touch me there?

It’s true, Sue does want to fondle her daughter – and more, much more.

She’d admitted as much to me one night, several days after I’d confessed the deeply-held desire I had for her daughter. How I’d dreamed of having young Amy for my lover. I didn’t mention wanting to bring Nina into it, or the things I longed to see Amy do to my little girl – not yet.

That was when Sue told me, You know, I’ve had those kinds of feelings for Amy, too. I first noticed them when she was nine, after I saw her naked in the bathroom. That night I – I touched myself, thinking about her beautiful body. 

She looked up at me. You think that makes me a bad mother?

I reassured her, told a mournful Sue that she was a wonderful mother. But all the while, I was making plans to realize her fantasy, then go further still, bringing the four of us together in a bond of forbidden pleasure – Sue, Amy, Nina and me.

Now, my wicked dream is on the brink of coming true.

“Do it,” I say, transfixing Sue with a steady, unblinking gaze. “Put your hand between Amy’s legs. Touch her, love her. She wants it, too.”

In truth, I’m not exactly sure that Amy does want sex with her mother. She’d never said so, and I’d never asked. But when Sue glances down at the girl, her mouth goes slack, eyes going wide.

What’s happening? I look for myself, thrilling at the sight of Amy raising her taut bottom, presenting it to Mommy, waiting to be fondled.

I can only imagine what’s going through Sue’s head as she stares at her daughter’s pretty pink holes, absently moistening her lips, perhaps imagining what it would be like to taste them. “Oh God,” she moans.

Amy shudders, her eyes meeting mine. There is a hint of fear, knowing that she is about to cross a line with her mother, to take their relationship into uncharted territory. But the danger excites her as well… and that, coupled with the need for release, is enough to overpower her concerns. She is ready for this, possibly even eager.

Lips quivering, Sue hesitantly slips a hand between her daughter’s thighs.

I can’t see Sue’s fingers make contact with Amy’s slit, but the gasp that escapes my young lover’s throat and the jolt of pleasure that shakes her body tells me everything I need to know.

“Mom,” she whispers. “Oh… oh, Mom.”

“My sweet Amy,” Sue says. “God, I love you.”

Amy begins to sway to and fro to the gentle rhythm of her mother’s fingers. She is still cradling Nina close, still nursing her. A surge of love for Amy overcomes me as she buries her face in the spun-sugar hair of my daughter, purring with pleasure.

Then I notice that my daughter has reached up to touch Amy’s other breast with a little hand while she suckles – cupping it, fondling it. Could her gesture be sexual, or is it merely affectionate? Or could that impossibly soft globe be a new plaything for my Nina to enjoy? Whatever the reason, the sight steals my breath away.

Now Sue is bent forward, nuzzling the flawless bottom of her own child, kissing it once, twice, three times. Her eyes drift open, and she pauses to admire the beauty of Amy’s cunt and anus, caressing both openings with curious fingertips.

Sue is so enthralled by the sight that she starts when I speak. “Put a finger inside her,” I say.

She hesitates, but only for a few seconds. Amy gives an ecstatic cry, then breathes, “Yes,” as Mommy penetrates her for the first time.

It’s only been two weeks since I took Amy’s virginity with my favorite vibrator, so she’s still very tight. But she’s also intensely aroused, moving steadily toward the all-consuming emptiness of orgasm. She is never quick to come, our Amy – no matter how intense her excitement is, my young lover has to work her way up to that sweet, final release, and when it finally happens… well, she goes off like a hand grenade.

I can detect movement as Sue slides her finger into Amy’s vagina, then pulls back. In again, out again. Slow. Gentle. Like a loving mommy should do when pleasuring her daughter.

Amy’s mother is placing tender kisses on the girl’s bottom. She senses that I am watching, and lifts her head to meet my eyes. All I see is love and lust. She sees the same from me.

“My God,” she whispers. “She’s so… so fucking wet.”

When I first knew Sue, she never used dirty words; never even discussed sex, even when she and I were in bed together. Perhaps that is why I ached so badly to take the woman out of her comfort zone. Teach her the joys of life on the razor’s edge.

Sue’s eyes are hungry. “C-can I taste her?”

I feel a shiver run through Amy as she hears her mother’s words. Of course, I have no objection to Sue going down on her daughter, but it thrills me to hear her ask permission. “Yes, you can,” is my reply.

The woman is on her knees; now she gets down on all fours, her face an inch of two from Amy’s cunt. I see her slowly draw forward, then Amy cries, “Oh!” as Mommy steals a warm, luscious kiss, then pauses to enjoy the flavor of it.

For a few heartbeats, I’m lost in the memory of going down on Amy for the first time, how the sheer beauty of the moment moved me to tears. Then Amy moans, and I’m brought back to the here and now.

I slip a hand between Amy and my daughter’s warm tummy, until it rests on Nina’s baby-smooth vulva. I’m holding it. Cupping it. So warm and silky soft, like nothing else on earth.

“Kiss me,” I instruct Amy. My voice is slightly hoarse… merciful Christ, I’m so fucking close to coming. “Kiss me while your mommy licks you.”

Amy raises herself, and our mouths meet again. Still feasting on her daughter – I can actually hear the liquid sound of it – Sue whimpers as she sees us share a deep, hungry kiss, our tongues tangling and twirling in a lustful dance.

I’ve still got a hand between my little girl’s legs, touching her bare slit. But I’m watching Sue over Amy’s shoulder. Really, all I can see is the upper half of her face – the mouth and nose are nestled between the girl’s cheeks as she pleasures her daughter’s holes.

Amy and I continue to French kiss. She is moaning into my hungry mouth, as if feeding me her lust. What a wild, dangerous, wonderful gift to receive from a girl of fourteen!

This must be what gods feel like. I’ve done it, realized my ultimate desire. The four of us are bound together in a hot, sweaty tangle of lesbian sex, incest and pedophilia. The world would respond to what we’re doing with horror and disgust, but never in my life have I felt so wonderfully free.

Now Amy is too out of breath to kiss me, and her head slips down to rest on my shoulder. She is panting for air, trembling helplessly, drawing closer and closer to blissful release. Sue is trailing her tongue through the crack of her daughter’s ass, then she licks a path back down to Amy’s cunt. The girl cries out, so I know that Mommy is paying special attention to her clitoris.

A jerk shakes Amy’s slender frame, then another – and just like that, she is coming. I quickly cup her face in my hands so I can peer into her eyes. I want to see the storm taking her soul.

“Come for me, Amy,” I tell her. “Come for your mother. Feel her tongue, gliding over your pretty cunt. Feel my child’s mouth on your nipple. That’s it, just let go, let it happen…”

Amy gives one final, violent shudder, then her eyes swim out of focus. “Oh, Mom – I love you,” she manages to say before going limp. I catch her with one arm as she slumps to the side. A pleasure-dazed Nina is startled to have lost Amy’s nipple, but I bring her to my own breast, where she latches on without a word.

Though she is out of breath, Amy manages to find my other nipple, then takes it into the lovely warmth of her mouth. It takes my breath away, the pure ecstasy of nursing both my girls at once.

Then I see Sue kneeling behind Amy. She has an arm wrapped around her daughter, and is caressing the girl’s flawless little breasts. Quickly straightening, Amy turns to face her mother, and they meet in a kiss that quickly strikes fire, their tongues emerging to play.

Then – oh, my God – I see Sue’s free hand seeking out the bare body of my little girl, fondling her, too. I stare in awe as she gently toys with Nina’s vaginal cleft, probing it with the tip of a finger.

Sue and I have made love many times, but she has never before shown sexual interest in my daughter. Not a hint of it. Why is she touching her so intimately now? I don’t know, but my excitement is at a fever pitch.

The possibilities dazzle me. In fact, I’m downright giddy at the idea of all four of us being lesbian lovers – no pleasure left unexplored, no combination of sex partners that isn’t allowed, with me as the conductor who calls the tune.

That is when my own wall-shaking orgasm claims me, rising inside like a sudden storm – and all I can do is give myself over to its power. I’m not even touching myself, but that doesn’t matter, not when I’m living out this twisted, perverse, beautiful fantasy.

The world is mine, and I swallow it in a single ravenous gulp.

The End

Afterword: Thank you for reading my latest story. 

As always, JetBoy served as the editor who made my musings better than I could ever make them solo. His patience with my writing, his understanding of what I am trying to convey, his gentle nudges where the story needed something more, less or different, it is all very much appreciated. And you, reader, benefit from it as much as I do. Thank you, JetBoy, for editing… but also for keeping this beautiful space for our writing alive and well. There are no words to describe how important Juicy Secrets is for me.

This story was a departure for me in that it included a more forceful protagonist. I have not written from that perspective before. I am not that. But through a recent online relationship I have learned a great deal more about myself, and that I am, perhaps, more of a “follower”, more of an “obeyer” than I realized I was. And I have one special person to thank for that. You know who you are.

by Kinkys_sis (with Shy Mom)

My beautiful Bee … my beautiful Bee … my beautiful Bee …

Those words thrum through my head like a heartbeat.

You know by now how shy I am, Bee, my beautiful. But I think you’ve caught glimpses of how quick and naughty I can be, too. You’ve unlocked that hidden part of me.

Lots of people don’t notice me, or ignore me, because I shrink from attention. That’s mostly fine. I’ve gotten used to being left alone, and like it. I can do what I want, be what I want. I don’t have to please people who don’t matter.

Still, it can get lonely sometimes.

We move around a lot. My parents keep going from one university to another, getting degrees and stuff. This time, we moved “across the pond.” So when I make friends, I know I’ll lose them before long.

I’ve learned it’s better to make friends with books. We have lots of books. They move with us, so they’re always there for me.

Actually, it’s the authors and characters who are there. They live in my head. I imagine talking with them. They can be more lively than the loud people around me.

Now you are in my head, Bee, and the most interesting friend of all. My girlfriend.

I still can’t believe it. I pinch myself to make sure.

So… can I confess that I did more than pinch myself last night? That’s why I’m writing to you. It’s easier to say things with my keyboard sometimes. Okay, most times. I write a lot.

In my bedroom, remembering what we did — what you did — I teased my nipples. I covered them with spit and imagined it was your mouth that got them wet. They stiffened like pebbles. They felt delicious to touch.

I caressed my tummy on the way down. I played with my belly button, remembering how you licked it. My pussy tingled.

Yes, my pussy. I know that word, and an even dirtier word, cunt. I read a lot.

I was too shy to say it, so I came up with “pee purse.” Is that silly? But you didn’t laugh at me. You used it too.

I massaged my mound. I don’t have any hair because I’m still just a little girl. I was going to say sexless little girl, but no more, thanks to you! Kisses and kisses, Bee.

I ran a finger up and down my girl lips, my slit. It was so wet. I think it’s called cum? When I closed my eyes, I imagined your tongue loving me down there. How did I taste?

I tried for myself… mmmm. Like salt and lemonade and honey. Most of all, like sex.

At least, that’s what came to mind when I tasted myself. It made me wild to have sex with you. To get fucked by you.

Yesterday, I said you can sex me, but what I thought was, you can fuck me. I never said that word out loud before, until after our sex. Our fuck. But I’ve thought it.

I thought it when you sat down on the bus next to me. I even thought it when I peed, and you were watching.

I knew you were watching. It made me pee harder for you. Was that naughty?

So I played with my pee purse, my pussy, my cunt, like you did with your divine fingers and tongue. I adored how tender you were. You knew I was a virgin?

Was a virgin. Not anymore.

You took my virginity and my heart at ten. I’m crying now writing this. You’re fucking beautiful, Bee. I love you.

I write this message to you because I am not experienced at expressing my feelings to other people… not anyone.

You have cut through my reserve. You have woken something in me that I never knew existed. You have captured my heart, it is yours. It scares me, how I feel. But it also excites me.

The toughest girl, no… the toughest person in our school says she loves me. Me… oh my god!

***

We had been so wrapped up in each other, I’d forgotten the time until I glanced at my clock. Shit! I had to get her home, I’d promised her mum.

For a moment longer, I looked down at her, peacefully sleeping, her face showed her happiness. Again, I marvelled at how she had so quickly invaded my heart. I hated to wake her, but I knew that I had to.

My lips brushed gently on hers, she turned a little and sighed. Her eyes flashed open, for a moment bewildered but then she smiled and reached a hand to my face. “Bee, you are real. It’s not all just a dream.”

“Oh, it’s real, my love, but I had to wake you, we have to go.”

For the first time, she pouted. God, it was lovely, So I told her, “Just one more kiss, then we really have to go.”

We arranged for me to collect her again the next day and I left her my phone number and email address. I ached to kiss her goodbye but that was impossible with her mother looking on.

At dinner time, Mum and Maria gave me strange looks. They knew nothing about Evelyn, not yet.

Maria asked first. “You look happy with yourself today, Bee, Something good happened?”

Mum knows exactly what Maria and I are. She doesn’t approve, but she quietly accepts the situation. She’s not stupid, though. “Looks to me like you’ve met someone. Is she nice?”

God, can’t I keep a secret around here? “Well, yes I did meet someone. Actually, I’d seen her a while ago, but we only just became friends.”

“So, come on sis, spill the beans. Who is she?” Maria asked.

Now I got nervous, I mean Evelyn was only ten — well, nearly eleven. Would they laugh at me or would they be shocked? “Her name is Evelyn and you can meet her tomorrow, but I want you to promise something. She’s a bit younger than me. You won’t say anything embarrassing in front of her, will you?”

“Bee, you’re worried, it’s quite clear, so just exactly how young do you mean?” my mum asked.

Fuck! Here we go, “She’s almost eleven but she seems older coz she’s very clever, and — ”

The look on Mum’s face stopped me dead. “You mean that she’s only ten? Oh, my god, Bee, whatever are you thinking?”

I felt the tears coming. This was going all wrong. I wanted them to like her, not have a go at me. But Maria answered for me.

“Mum, it’s okay. Bee’s not stupid, so why don’t we give her a chance? Let’s meet the girl first, then we’ll see.”

Mum still looked doubtful but then; “If you say so, but I would rather have not known. But yes, we will meet her if that’s what you want, Bee.”

I took Maria’s hand. “Thank you, sis. It’ll be fine, just you wait and see.”

Back in my room, I fired up my laptop. A message! A message from Evelyn. Hastily, I clicked and read.

My wonderful Bee

How happy you made me today, I still can’t believe it. What you saw in me I will never understand. But it’s enough for me that you did.

And then in your room, I can’t put it in words what you made me feel. I feel alive for the first time in my life.

I’m going to write you a bit about me, you can read it in the morning. 

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Love, love, love,

Evelyn

xxxxxxx

I wasn’t usually one for crying but this girl had got me all emotional. Now I cried. Tomorrow seemed such a long time away.

I woke early and eagerly checked my messages. Nothing! Oh well, it’s early yet, so breakfast first. Mum was surprised to see me. “It’s Sunday, Bee, what on earth are you doing up so early?”

“I want to go for my run nice and early so I can be showered and done before I fetch Evelyn.”

I ran through the reserve. It was another beautiful morning. Maria would usually run with me but she’d said it was too early and she would run later. I didn’t mind, not today. I wanted to be able to think about Evelyn on my own.

Back in my room and there was her message. I read it once very fast, then read it again slowly. Her words tugged at my heart, reading about what she had gone through, the loneliness she had suffered. But then came the good part, the sexy part. I could feel myself flush and the tingle between my legs. Would she touch me there today?

I went for my shower, tossed my running stuff in the wash basket, but only after I gave the shorts a wipe with my flannel. They were all wet and gooey in the crotch.

The water rinsed away my sweat as I stood there with my eyes closed. The image of Evelyn was sharp in my mind. I thought of her being here, how she would reach out for me. I pulled and pinched my nipples like I imagined she would. I pulled my lips open wide so she could see inside me. My clit was swollen when my fingers touched, “Oh Evelyn, will you love me?” I couldn’t wait any longer. I rubbed my clit with two fingers, my other hand reaching behind. I found my asshole and pushed in, no gentle easing, just a desperate need. I didn’t have to fuck myself for long. My baby had awoken a lust in me. I was coming in no time at all.

I chose something pretty to wear but made sure it wasn’t something that made me look older. I started to pull my knickers on but then I paused. Maybe? Yes, I would. I threw them back in the drawer.

She was waiting out front when I got there, I saw her mum at a window and Evelyn waved to her, I saw her wave back and the smile on her face. Oh well, she seemed happy enough with me.

She took my hand as we walked. “Did you like my message, Bee?”

“Yes, I did and I must say, what a surprise. I was a bit shocked, but in a nice way. It was so sexy and I loved it.”

She turned to face me and after a quick look about, pulled me into a hug. “I’m so pleased you liked it. I nearly deleted half of it but then somehow I knew that you’d love it.” Her hands were at the top of my bum.

“Would you like a surprise?” She gave a nod, “Move your hands down and feel my bum.”

I saw her hesitate. This was a new step for her but then her hands slowly slipped lower. “Now lift my skirt.”

She gave a gasp when she felt my bare bum. “Bee, you don’t have any panties on. That’s so naughty.” Then she frowned. I was getting used to that. “But I shouldn’t be touching your bum, that’s rude.” She seemed to think about what she’d said. “But it’s nice, all soft and round.”

I felt her hands slowly roam across my cheeks. She hesitated at the crease. To be honest, I would have been surprised if she had gone in. But I still loved her touch.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get back to mine before I molest you in the street.”

“Ooh, what a nice thought that is,” she answered. Her shyness wasn’t showing at all, at least not with me.

“You’re going to meet my mum and sister. Mum’s doing a little lunch for us.”

Now, her shyness showed. “You didn’t say anything about meeting anybody, Bee, but I suppose it’s obvious really. I didn’t think.” She looked quite agitated.

I stopped walking and turned her to me. “Evelyn, don’t worry. It’ll be fine, I promise.” I hoped I was telling the truth.

She didn’t seem any happier but she continued on beside me.

I half expected Mum to be at the door when we got there but there was no sign of anyone. Then she called from the kitchen, “That you, Bee? I’m in here.”

I almost had to drag Evelyn into the kitchen. I was dreading Mum’s reaction just as much as Evelyn seemed to be. But I got a surprise.

“Oh my, what a pretty girl you are, Evelyn. It makes a change from some—”

“Mum, please don’t say anymore.”

Mum actually looked guilty. “No, you’re right, I’m sorry. Now let me look at you.” She gave an unhappy Evelyn a close check-out. “I’ll be honest, I was worried when Bee told me your age but you’re lovely, I must admit. And you do look older than she said, well, a little anyway.”

The weight lifted off my shoulders. It was going to be okay. Then Maria came in.

Instantly, I knew that look. She was just as taken with Evelyn as I had been. Maria saw that I’d seen and immediately blushed. “Oh Bee, she’s divine. You lucky girl.”

Her words pleased me well enough, but Evelyn looked shocked. Maria recovered her poise. “Don’t mind me. What I mean is, I can see why Bee likes you.”

Mum spoke up. “Enough of this chatter. Off you go and… whatever, while I finish lunch.”

I led Evelyn upstairs. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

As soon as I closed my door, she was in my arms. We didn’t either of us have to ask. Our lips came together for a kiss. This time, it was passionate, filled with a joint need and love.

I backed to the bed and let myself fall, pulling her with me so she lay on top. She pressed straight down on me and I humped myself up into her. She caught on immediately and ground her pussy against mine.

I took hold of her ass and pressed her harder. I could feel my own arousal rapidly mounting, but I was just as aware of hers. The way she was kissing me. there was an eagerness I hadn’t felt before, so I knew she was enjoying this.

My need had been so high, my climax came without warning. She must have known, because her face pulled away and she stared at me as I was shaking. She pressed and moved herself faster and harder. My orgasm was wonderful, washing over me, as good as any I’d ever had.

“I made you come. Oh Bee, I did it,” she said. Then she gave an, “Oooh.” Her eyes screwed shut, and she gritted her teeth. I pressed myself into her pussy, but I think the ‘ooh’ was because my finger had found her asshole. I hadn’t meant to, but I was so used to doing it, it just naturally happened.

I stopped myself from trying to push into her and contented myself with just a tickle, round and round. She was right on the edge, her fingers dug into my shoulders. I pressed her little rosebud, just entering a tiny bit, but it was enough. She went rigid, unable to move, and I pushed a little bit further into her ass. The orgasm took hold and she began to tremble, her ass gripped my finger, then I felt her wetness warming me. As much as I loved that, I was worried that she might soil her clothes, I hadn’t prepared for this.

She flopped down on me, still gripping me fiercely. My finger was still in her bum, not very far in but she must know, it was too late to worry about it now.

We both calmed down, our breathing settling. “You okay, my love?” I asked her.

She lifted her head. “Oh yes, so okay and so happy that I made you come. I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did and it was beautiful, thank you, but we’d better move. I didn’t mean for that to happen until after lunch. Mum might call us anytime soon, so we better get cleaned up.”

“Well, if you were to take your finger out of my bum, I might be able to move.” She was grinning broadly. God, that was a relief.

The coast was clear as we went to the bathroom. “I need a pee,” I said.

“Oops sorry, shall I go and wait?”

“Don’t be silly, after what we just did, you think I can’t pee in front of you? And there’s no need to turn around either.”

I opened my legs wider than I usually would, her eyes were fixed on my pussy. Of course, I realised, she hadn’t seen it until now. I reached down and spread my lips and then I peed. Her eyes opened wide as she watched. My fingers got wet, and she followed them with her eyes as I lifted my fingers to my mouth and sucked them dry.

“But Bee, that’s your pee. That’s… gross.”

“Not to me it isn’t. I like my taste. Now, you already had a little pee. You wanna finish?”

She looked nervous again. She sat on the loo while I stood right in front of her. “No, Evelyn, open your legs for me so I can see as well.”

Slowly, she spread them, but nothing happened. “Hey don’t mind me, my love, let it go.”

There was a little squirt. I saw her clench her tummy, pressing, then she really did pee. I couldn’t resist it, I reached down, my palm facing up, and then I spread my fingers out, feeling her warmth.

Once again, I sucked my fingers, savouring her flavour, all the time my eyes looking into hers.

I heard a shout. It was Maria. “Five minutes, you two!”

Hurriedly, we washed and cleaned ourselves. Back in my room, I changed my skirt, which was still wet from earlier. Then we hurried downstairs.

Of course, I saw Maria’s all-knowing look, but thankfully, Mum seemed oblivious. It turned out to be a pleasant lunch and quite quickly, I saw Evelyn relaxing.

I carried our plates into the kitchen, my mum following behind me. “She’s a very nice, polite girl but she is still a bit young. I hope you know what you’re doing, Bee.”

Naturally, I told her I did and she didn’t have to worry.

Evelyn and I went back to my room and sat on the bed. “What’s up, love?” I asked her.

“I want to see you undressed and I want to love you, you know, like you did to me yesterday. Will you show me what to do?”

“Oh, my love, I told you, I don’t need to show you. Just do what you want. It’ll come, you’ll see,”

I slipped out of my skirt and top and stood still, watching her eyes darting here and there as she took in all of me. Then she smiled. “Bee, you’re so beautiful. Are you really mine?”

“Oh yes, I am, all yours.” Then I climbed onto the bed.

I lay there as she played with my tits. I saw how she loved them. And then how she discovered my nipples and how they responded to her touch. Her smile told me everything.

I watched as she went lower. I never dreamed for a moment that she would. but then… heaven. Oh, fuck. Her tongue found my clit. She glanced up. “Is it here?”

“Fuck yes.”

It didn’t take long for me to come.

She was smiling at me. “There, now I did it properly, and I made you come. And guess what? You taste so amazing, I would never have thought that. Oh, I forgot, I didn’t touch your bum. I’m sorry.”

“Plenty of time for that, my beautiful Evelyn.”

***

Monday came, we walked to school, I was holding her hand when we passed through the gate. She looked at me. “Bee, you don’t care?”

“Evelyn, why would I? Ain’t no one in this school gonna argue with me.”

Her look was divine. “No, there isn’t, is there? Not with my champion.”

On to: Part Three!

by BlueJean

“Mum?”

I was dancing in the wildflower meadow with Freya and Millie. But it was nighttime, and when the sun went down the wildflower meadow became The Midnight Garden, a place of whispers and cool seduction.

We were naked, the three of us, whirling and gyrating amongst sorrel and buttercup and yarrow, the flowers taller, more brightly coloured than I ever remembered them being. The girls giggled as they tried to swat my bum, but I was too quick for them and deftly evaded their attempts.

A full moon hung in the sky, illuminating our exquisite dance, and fireflies of purple and green glowed and pulsed, casting strange shadows across the garden.

“Mum?”

Sadie was here as well, poised on the other side of the fence with her fingers tucked into the waistband of her trousers, an expectant look on her face.

“Can I come in and join you? Can I?” she asked me.

“Well, I don’t know,” I told her teasingly. “What do you think, girls? Should we let Miss Laine join us?”

Freya and Millie just laughed and frolicked through the wildflowers, while black and gold butterflies the size of birds fluttered around us, and big fat electric blue bumblebees harvested silver nectar.

Something else laughed with us too, something strange and ancient, ghosting through the trees.

And Mr. Dalliard hammered a new fence post into the ground nearby.

“Mum!”

Hold on…

What’s Mr. Dalliard doing here?

He shouldn’t be here. This is a place for girls only.

And why is he naked?

No.

No, this is all kinds of wrong.

“Always the bloomin’ same, it is,” Mr. Dalliard was saying. “Dead ‘usband, or ‘usband away on business trip, or divorced ‘usband, or wife-beatin’ ‘usband bin kicked out, or no bloomin’ ‘usband at all! Us fellas has got feelins’ too, ya know! Why can’t we be joinin’ in with the fun?”

“Away with you, Mr. Dalliard!” I cried, my hand held aloft. “There’s no place for you or your meat and two veg here!”

“Mummy! Wake up!”

“Wossamagga?” I mumbled and opened my eyes.

Wossamagga. Yes. I had invented a brand new word, and the Oxford English Dictionary would need to be informed.

Freya slowly came into focus. She was standing by my bed, shaking me.

“What time is it?” I groaned.

“About five o’clock in the morning,” she told me.

“Why did you wake me?”

“Millie’s not in bed.”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. “What do you mean she’s not in bed? Where is she?”

“I dunno. Bee’s gone too.”

Hastening out of bed, I peeked through the curtains. The sun was barely up, casting an orange hue on the horizon. The first early risers chirped and warbled their morning songs.

“Did you check downstairs?” I asked Freya.

“Yeah, she’s not there.”

“Put your wellies on and let’s go find her,” I said, and we hurried downstairs.

“Millie!” I shouted as we walked down the garden.

Freya climbed the tree house ladder to check up there, but found it unoccupied.

I walked to the edge of the poppy field and shouted out Millie’s name there too, but no answer.

I felt panic rising in my chest and had to push it back down. Keep calm, she’s okay, I told myself.

Suddenly I could hear a dog barking in the distance.”That’s Bee!” Freya said and dashed off in the direction of the sound.

“Wait, Freya!” I said, running after her.

Bee was standing at the edge of the forest, wagging her tail as we approached.

“Hey, puppy,” I said, scratching her behind the ears. “Where is she? Where’s Millie?”

“Go find her, Bee! Go find Millie!” Freya told the pup and Bee ran off into the woods with us in hot pursuit.

The puppy led us to a small clearing in the forest and then hid behind my legs.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Millie was kneeling on the ground in her pajamas, her eyes closed, hands in her lap. In front of her, its eyes also shut, was a beautiful white roe deer.

My daughter and the animal held their foreheads together in some shared reverie. A greeting or a farewell, perhaps a silent prayer.

Was I still dreaming?

“What’re they doing?” Freya whispered to me.

“Millie?” I said in a hushed voice, unsure if I should disturb whatever it was they were doing.

The deer opened its eyes, fixed its gaze on me, then turned and ran off into the trees.

Millie noticed us and yawned. “Mummy, am I a wolf or a deer?” she asked me.

Sleepwalking. Of course, she was sleepwalking. She’d never done anything like that before, as far as I knew, but I didn’t have a better explanation.

And the deer? Just an inquisitive animal, perhaps. Who wouldn’t be curious to find a pajama-clad little girl asleep in the woods? It was like something from a fairy tale.

I put my arms around my youngest daughter and picked her up. “You have to tell us if you’re going out somewhere, Millie,” I told her gently.

“Can we have honey on porridge when we get home?” she asked, gazing up at me with sleepy eyes.

Freya was watching something in the trees, a frown on her face.

“What is it?” I asked her.

“I thought I saw something,” she replied.

“Probably just the deer,” I told her. “Let’s go home.”

***

The rest of the day was stiflingly hot. Freya, Millie and the puppy spent most of it paddling in the stream while I took refuge indoors with a water cooler and several books on beekeeping. I’d gone from two hives to thirty in a few short years, but there were always new things to learn.

When the evening arrived, the heat had dissipated a little, but it was clammy and uncomfortable. I knew what that meant.

The first rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance just after the girls had gone to bed, and by the time the sun had disappeared over the horizon, a blanket of falling rain enveloped the cottage.

I love summer rainstorms. I sat in the lounge with the French doors open and watched the monsoon fall, the thatched eaves wide enough to draw the rain away from the house in the absence of more modern gutters. Distant lightning illuminated the sky and the surrounding fields, making strange silhouettes of trees and clouds.

I had a bowl of our home-grown strawberries next to me on the couch, which I would dip into a little pot of chocolate sauce, then wash down with a glass of strawberry and lime flavoured gin and lemonade. So decadent.

I undid the first couple of buttons on my linen shirt and wiped away the perspiration that had collected in the hollow of my throat. Such a sticky, humid night.

I smiled to myself and stood up, undoing the rest of the buttons on my shirt and letting it fall to the floor, soon to be joined by my trousers and panties. I stepped outside into the rain and put my arms behind my head, letting the water cascade down my naked skin. So cool. So unbelievably wonderful.

“Oh my word,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

Laughing joyously, I spun round and round, the heavy, unrelenting raindrops stinging my skin pleasantly. I pushed my drenched hair back and stood there in the garden with my face to the sky, letting the rain pound against me, all my worries and fears washing away. Nothing else mattered right now. Just this. Naked in the cool, cool rain.

More thunder rumbled in the distance, still miles away but closer than before. I decided to check on Bee and the girls.

I closed the doors up and carried my clothes upstairs, water dripping from my body onto the steps below.

I could hear voices coming from the girls’ room, the words indistinct under the sound of the hammering downpour. I padded across the landing and peered inside their bedroom, the door slightly ajar, leaving a small wedge of light to peek through.

Bee was asleep on her back on Millie’s bed, her little legs stuck out and pointed upwards comically.

Millie and Freya were most definitely not asleep. I put a hand to my mouth and gasped.

Freya was sprawled back on her bed with Millie on top of her in a sixty-nine, both of them completely naked as they ate each other out. Where on earth had they learnt to do that?

“You smell really nice, Millie,” Freya told her sister as she held Millie’s bum cheeks apart, trailing long licks up and down her cleft.

Millie’s face appeared from between her big sister’s legs, lips glistening with moisture. “Thanks. Is it my kitty that smells nice?” she said.

“Your bum and your kitty. It just all smells so… so sexy,” Freya told her.

“You’re quite dirty, aren’t you?” Millie giggled.

Freya giggled too. “Yeah, I am a bit. Don’t stop licking me, please.”

My hand found its way between my legs. I couldn’t stop it. Dropping my clothes, I leaned against the doorframe, pushing two fingers through my folds and kneading a breast as I peeked through the little gap at this delightfully erotic scene.

Stop this, it’s not right!

No. I’m not stopping. I’m just not, okay?

“Oh, yeah. Lick each other,” I mouthed silently, not daring to speak or even whisper the words.

“Shall I stick my tongue in your hole, Millie?” Freya asked her sister.

Yes. Do that. Please do that.

“Yeah, okay. Stick it in as far as you can, then push it in and out really fast,” Millie said.

I didn’t know little girls could be like this.

“Okay, but you have to do it to me too,” Freya said and spread her sister’s arse cheeks even further apart. She drew back slightly to inspect her target, then stabbed her tongue deep inside Millie’s tiny cunt hole.

Oh, God yes. Tongue fuck your little sister. Do it to her!

I shoved two fingers into my own cunt, hoping that the pouring rain would drown out the sounds of my heavy breathing and the sticky, sloshy noises between my legs.

“Oh, wow, it feels so deep inside my kitty!” Millie gushed, looking back at her sister with a dopey smile on her face.

Freya frowned. “Don’t stop licking me, Millie, I want to do an orgasm.”

An orgasm? She’s having orgasms?

Millie put her face back down between Freya’s legs and tongued her cunt enthusiastically.

Lifting her arse off the bed, Freya humped her sister’s mouth. “I – I love doing naughty stuff with you, Millie!” she gasped, lashing her tongue against Millie’s slit.

“Oh, fuck, you dirty girls. Mummy’s gonna come,” I mouthed silently as my fingers thrashed against my clit.

“Millie, I’m d-doing it! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Freya groaned, then came in her little sister’s face.

I came, too. I leant back against the wall and held my fingers inside as my orgasm shuddered through me, clamping the other hand over my mouth to muffle a moan.

“It’s so wet,” Millie said as she rubbed her fingers over Freya’s pussy, then took them away to inspect the slick fluid that coated them.

Freya took one last lick of Millie’s hairless cunt. “Yummy kitty!” she said, and both girls giggled.

I picked my clothes up and crept to the bathroom to fetch a towel. I slept naked that night and treated myself to several more orgasms.

***

Mr. Dalliard came round to repair the fence around our vegetable patch, and as Millie and me tended to the vegetables for Mum, he told us stories about his life.

He said he fought in both world wars but I couldn’t see how he could have been a soldier in World War One, unless my maths were wrong. I didn’t want to say anything because I heard that if you tell people they didn’t fight in a war when they actually did, it made them really angry. I would definitely be getting my calculator out later though.

“Mr. Dalliard?” Millie said as she sprinkled the courgettes with her pink watering can.

“Aye, nipper?” Mr. Dalliard said and hammered another slat onto the cross beams of the fence.

“How old are you?”

OMG, here we go.

“Buggered if I know. Lost count years ago, I did.”

“You just said a swear word!” I gasped as I picked some beans from their stalk and put them in a little basket.

“Don’t tell yer mum then, or she’ll tan me ‘ide,” Mr. Dalliard grinned.

Millie and me giggled.

“I asked the Dryad how old you were, but I can’t remember if she told me or not,” Millie said.

Mr. Dalliard stopped hammering and just sort of stared at the fence with a strange look on his face. He didn’t look at us when he finally spoke. “Lady ‘o the oak spoke t’ya, did she?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Millie hummed, nodding.

“Best not speak to ‘er anymore, Millie,” Mr. Dalliard said.

I never heard him call us by our names until then. “Why? You told us to ask her how old you were,” I said.

“I was only muckin’ about, nipper. Dryad don’t normally talk to folk, but when they do… well, just best to stay away from that old oak, maybe.”

“She’s not bad or anything, though,” Millie said.

“No, she ain’t bad, but neither be a tree when it falls on top o’ yer.”

I think I might have mentioned it before but Mr. Dalliard says some weird stuff sometimes. Me and Millie just stared at him.

Mr. Dalliard sighed and put his hammer down. “What I means to say is, nature ain’t good nor bad, but that don’t mean it can’t ‘urt ya sometimes. You’s gotta respect it, enjoy it from a distance, mayhap.” He looked over at us. “You ‘ear me, young’uns?”

“Yes, Mr. Dalliard,” Millie and me said together.

***

Later on, Miss Laine came round to have dinner with us.

Miss Laine was probably the nicest teacher in the world and all the other kids at school were jealous that she and our mum were best friends and that we got to spend a lot of time with her. Sometimes she even stayed the night at our house if she had too much to drink and couldn’t drive home, although she always told us not to tell the other kids about that.

As soon as we saw her little car outside the cottage, we ran out to greet her.

“Hello, Miss Laine!” Millie shouted.

Miss Laine climbed out of her car and kissed us both on the cheek, making a ‘mwah’ noise. I noticed that she smelled really nice, like body wash and flowers. “Hello, girls. Are you being good?”

“Miss Laine, will you watch a movie with us later?” Millie asked.

“Miss Laine, can you help me write my diary?” I asked.

“Miss Laine, I ate nearly a whole jar of your damson jam!”

“Miss Laine, shall we show you the poppy field after dinner?”

“Miss Laine, I sleepwalked into the forest and made friends with a deer.”

“Miss Laine, we met this girl called Kerry and played pirates with her on Habbernack Island.”

“Miss Laine, will you tuck us up in bed and read us a story later?”

Miss Laine held her hands out over our heads and gave us a stern look. “Shhhhh,” she told us. “Calm… calm… calm.”

Millie and me closed our mouths and stood to attention.

Miss Laine looked from me to my sister several times and then nodded approvingly. “Now. Are you both calm?”

“Yes, Miss Laine,” we said together.

Suddenly she burst out laughing and attacked us with tickles. “The Tickle Monster’s coming to get you! Tickle tickle tickle!” she shrieked, chasing after us as we ran away towards the house, giggling hysterically.

I was a bit old for the Tickle Monster really but I didn’t mind joining in, just this once.

Okay, fine, I did kind of like it when Miss Laine tickled me. Happy now?

Mum met us at the door and let Miss Laine inside but she wouldn’t let me and Millie in. “And you two are…?”

I rolled my eyes. Mum played this game a lot. Most days when we came home from school, actually. She thought it was hilariously funny.

“We’re your daughters, Mummy!” Millie said, giggling.

I wasn’t playing along, so I just crossed my arms and gave Mum a look.

“My daughters? I don’t remember having any daughters. Are you sure?” Mum said dramatically. If you wanted to know where Millie got her bad acting skills from, well now you do.

“Can I come in, please? I need a wee,” I said, stamping my foot.

“Okay, but only for five minutes,” Mum said, looking ever so pleased with herself.

“You’re so weird, Mummy,” Millie said and poked Mum in the leg.

“Ow!”

We ate dinner outside on the rattan dining table, with the big parasol up to keep us shaded from the sun. Mum made roasted sea bream with lemon and olive oil and we had fresh vegetables from our garden too.

“Miss Laine, me and Freya picked these beans and courgettes,” Millie told our teacher.

“Oh, they’re delicious!” Miss Laine said and me and Millie smiled proudly. “You don’t need to keep calling me Miss Laine, though. Sadie’s okay when we’re not at school.”

“Okay… Sadie,” I said, almost swooning with delight. When the other girls at school found out that me and Millie were allowed to call Miss Laine by her first name, they’d probably try to gouge my eyes out in jealousy. I couldn’t wait to tell them!

Millie kept picking bits of food off her plate and feeding them to Bee, who was under the table.

“Millie, stop feeding the puppy, you’ll encourage her to beg,” Mum told her.

“Sorry,” Millie said and shrugged at Bee.

“What’s this about you and a deer, Millie?” Miss Laine asked my sister.

“Mummy said I was sleepwalking and this deer was there trying to kiss me or something,” Millie explained.

“Don’t you remember?” I said.

“Sort of. The Dryad wanted me to meet the deer, I think.”

“Dryad? A tree nymph?” Miss Laine asked with interest.

“Mr. Dalliard told them about a forest spirit that lives in that ancient oak down by the fields,” Mum explained to Miss Laine.

“Oh, I see. What does she look like, Millie?”

Millie chewed on a string bean and we all waited for her to finish. “Well,” she said finally. “She’s green and naked.”

“Green and naked, huh?” Mum said.

“You’ve just described The Incredible Hulk,” I told my sister.

Millie was chewing on another bean but she was too impatient so she pulled it out of her mouth and put it back on her plate. “No, she’s like the other green one, the woman from the space movies, but with no clothes and longer hair. She’s really pretty like Miss La— um… Sadie.”

“Well, thank you, Millie Newton!” Miss Laine said and kissed Millie on the cheek.

“I think you’re pretty too,” I said quickly. No way was I going to be left out.

“And thank you, Freya,” Miss Laine said and kissed me too. I smiled shyly.

“Have you seen the tree nymph, too?” Miss Laine asked me.

Well, I had seen something. Mum said it was just the deer but to me it looked like… walking leaves? I don’t know, but the more I looked at it, the harder it was to see. I couldn’t tell Miss Laine any of that though.

“No, Millie just made it up. Mum says she’s got an overactive thyroid,” I said, feeling very mature.

Mum and Miss Laine burst out laughing.

“What?” I said.

“You mean an overactive imagination.” Mum was barely able to explain, she was laughing so much. “An overactive thyroid is what Mrs. Jeffries down at the post office has got.”

“Oh God, I think some wee came out!” Miss Laine said, shaking with laughter, and that made Mum laugh even more.

“I got them mixed up,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Millie looked like she wanted to slap me. “I didn’t make it up, Freya,” she said to me in a quiet voice.

***

After dinner, the girls insisted on taking Sadie for a walk through the poppy field, and then showing her the vegetable garden and the wildflower meadow. Then they wanted to watch a movie with her, but I had to explain that Sadie wasn’t just here for them.

They really did love their teacher. My own teacher had been a lunch time alcoholic with bad breath and crooked yellow teeth who used to poke us in the back with a biro, so I suppose the girls were lucky.

Eventually I managed to persuade Freya and Millie that it was time for bed and that no, Sadie wasn’t going to read them a bedtime story because I needed her to drink wine with me.

We sat in the lounge with the French doors open and listened to the sound of crickets chirping out in the fields and the barking of foxes as they emerged from their secret dens for a night’s hunt.

“I think the girls want you to adopt them,” I said as I refilled our wine glasses.

Sadie laughed. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t steal them from their mummy.”

I curled up on the coach. “I’m surprised you don’t have kids of your own. You’d be an amazing mum.”

“I do have kids. Lots and lots of kids,” Sadie said.

“I suppose you do. But don’t you want some babies of your own?”

Sadie raised her glass to her lips and took a mouthful of wine, then closed her eyes and smiled. “Every child that enters my classroom is an empty vessel. I fill them with knowledge and wisdom, nurture them, care for them, put plasters on their knees when they fall over, teach them to be kind and generous to each other, put all my body and soul into preparing them for the world outside.”

She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on me. “And when each of them walks out of my classroom for the last time, my heart breaks. Again and again and again. And it hurts, it really does. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I was kind of stunned. She’d been my friend for five years but sometimes I felt like there was someone else in there, deep beneath that kooky, easy going exterior. We all have layers, I suppose.

“You’ve just described motherhood,” I said, impressed.

Sadie smiled warmly. “Yep.” She pulled her legs up underneath her and flicked her chestnut hair back. “Now. Did you shag Sarah or not?”

“Wow. Way to kill the mood,” I replied, sarcastically. “And no. I did not.”

“Oh, boring!”

“What are we, fourteen-year-olds? I barely knew her.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” Sadie said teasingly, wagging a finger at me.

“Oh, you mean the exact same way you looked at her?” I shot back.

Sadie chuckled. “Do you think we’re turning into a couple of horny dykes?”

“I’m not turning into anything, but you’re turning into a right pervy school teacher!”

Sadie drained her glass and slid it across the coffee table towards me. “Pour me more wine, Georgia Newton, or I’ll masturbate at you again!”

I cracked up laughing and poured her another glass, spilling some on the table. I was a little hazy on the number of bottles we’d opened so far that night. “Oops, butterflingers,” I said.

Sadie howled with laughter. “You said ‘flingers’!”

I threw my napkin at her. “Shut up!”

When Sadie finally stopped laughing, she took another swallow of wine. “Is Freya still flashing her unmentionables?” she asked me with a glint in her eye.

How much did I want to tell her? I was a little drunk; probably not in a fit state to edit myself very well. “I found her and Millie in the poppy field, rubbing their girly bits together,” I told my friend and immediately wished I could stuff the words back in my mouth.

Sadie sat there with a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear…”

“Yeah.”

“What did you do?”

“Snuck away before they could see me.”

Sadie had a finger in her mouth as she sat there in rapt attention. “Anything else?”

I drank my wine and stared back at her over the rim of my glass. “Maybe…” I said, finally.

“Tell me,” Sadie insisted in a hushed voice.

“Only if…” I began and then trailed off.

“What?”

Don’t. Just don’t.

“Only if you play with yourself again.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Right here?”

“Yes.”

Sadie regarded me for a long time. Finally she reached down and took hold of the hem of her long, tight fitting skirt and pulled it up around her waist.

“You’re wearing stockings and suspenders,” I said.

“I know,” she said and placed a hand over the crotch of her lacy panties.

I unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them off. “Do you wear naughty lingerie to school?”

“Sometimes,” she said, lightly caressing herself.

“Why?”

“It makes me feel sexy.”

“It makes you feel sexy?”

“Yes.”

“In front of all the little girls and boys?” I asked and slipped my hand down my knickers.

A pause. But just a short one. “Yes,” Sadie admitted, her own hand disappearing into her panties. “Tell me what else the girls did.”

You shouldn’t tell her. Not really.

“After you masturbated on Zoom…” I began.

“Yes?”

“I crept upstairs and snuck into their room.”

“What did you see?” Sadie asked me, her hand toiling away under her knickers.

“Freya had fallen asleep humping her pillow. Her pajamas and panties were pulled down round her knees.”

“Oh, my word.”

“She had a pair of my dirty knickers clutched to her face.”

“That’s… that’s so naughty,” Sadie groaned.

“Yeah,” I agreed and pushed two fingers inside myself.

“What did you do that time?”

Don’t tell her. You mustn’t.

“I… I did what I’m doing now.”

Sadie frowned, but didn’t stop touching herself. “In their bedroom?”

“Yes. I stood over Freya and masturbated while she slept.”

“Oh, God,” Sadie moaned.

“But that’s not all,” I said as I fingered myself.

“Yes?”

“You won’t tell on me will you, Miss Laine?” I said in a little girl voice.

Sadie smiled at me wickedly. “No, Georgia Newton, I won’t tell on you.”

“I caught them again a few nights later,” I told my friend. “I could see them through a crack in their doorway.”

“What were they doing?”

“I… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Tell me. Please,” my friend begged as she played with herself.

“They were licking each other out,” I told her.

“Oh, fuck,” Sadie whimpered.

“Freya was pulling Millie’s arse cheeks open and actually eating her sister out.”

“But they’re so young.”

“I know.”

“Did you rush in there and tell them off?”

“I should have,” I said and spread my legs open.

Sadie stared between my legs. “But you didn’t, did you?”

I shook my head.

“What did you do?”

Don’t.

“I watched them.”

“What else?” Sadie asked me and slung a leg over the arm of the chair she was slouched in.

“I watched them and I masturbated. I stood outside their bedroom door and fingered myself while I watched them lick each other’s pussies.”

“Oh, Georgia, that’s so naughty. So fucking naughty.”

“Potty mouth,” I moaned, my fingers scissoring in and out of my pussy.

“I want to see your cunt,” Sadie told me.

“What if all the little girls and boys heard you talk like that?”

“Show me.”

I slipped my knickers off and dropped them on top of my trousers on the floor, then spread my legs again. “Show me yours now,” I said to Sadie.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Show me your pretty cunt, Miss Laine.”

Sadie lifted her legs up and pulled her panties off. She took a quick sniff of them and then draped them over the arm of the chair. “When I was little, I used to like fingering other girls,” she told me, pulling her feet back up onto the chair and then spreading her knees apart.

“Did you?”

“Yes. The little boys couldn’t get stiffies and they weren’t really interested in naughty games, but us girls liked to experiment on each other. I sometimes think about it when I masturbate, how we used to enjoy putting our hands into each other’s panties.”

I was going to come. “Do you think about it in class? When you’re teaching the children?”

“Oh, Georgia, don’t ask me that. You mustn’t ask me that,” Sadie groaned as her fingers lashed against her clit.

“Do you?” I said, my own fingers pistoning in and out of my cunt.

“Oh, fuck! Georgia!” Sadie hissed and writhed in her chair, her hand pressed tightly against her pussy as it squeezed out her orgasm.

My turn now. Here it comes. “Coming! Sadie, I’m… oh yeah, lick her little pussy!”

Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

I thrust my pelvis up and held my fingers inside as my climax washed over me.

Sadie sat slumped in the chair, arms behind her head and legs still spread wide, her pussy lips inflamed and glistening with juices. She brought a hand down to her cunt again and idly caressed herself, then popped her sticky fingers into her mouth.

I hoped the girls hadn’t heard us having fun.

I glanced up the top of the stairs to the landing, where the last few steps disappeared up to the next floor. I could see a little pair of eyes up there, peering down at us, almost hidden in the darkness.

Millie?

No.

Freya.

She had seen us.

We looked at each other, just briefly, and then she was gone.

This would take some explaining…

On to Chapter Five!