Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Karin has already contributed several excellent stories to this site… and here’s a new delight for you to savor. Thanks, Karin, for the erotic treats. — JetBoy

by Karin Halle

In the wake of storms on the Great Lakes, the shores were regularly littered with debris, some of which could prove useful to beachcombers, especially those who otherwise had very little.

Thus it was that on the morning of Saturday, September 8, 1860, a fourteen-year-old girl left the cabin she called home after her mother had left for her job in the Illinois village of Port Clinton. Susannah Croft made her way to the shore of Lake Michigan to see if anything of value had washed up in the overnight gale. After the previous storm, she had retrieved a small timber crate that contained eight cans of lovely, delicious peaches.

Susannah knew she could not hope to be so lucky a second time, but in the innocence of her youth, she was still an optimist – the hardscrabble life she endured had not yet weighed upon her spirit as it had upon her mother, Harriet.

Harriet had not yet sent the girl out to find employment, allowing her instead to remain at home to cook and clean and sew. The woman had many good years ahead of her and wanted to spare her daughter for as long as possible. Besides, a few extra dollars would barely make any difference to their straitened circumstances.

Susannah clambered over the rocks, arriving at a stretch of clear shore covered by a fine grit. A large object, clearly not native to the spot, lay in the distance ahead of her. As she approached, she saw to her horror it was a human body – white as marble, and just as lifeless. She assumed it had been swept from a ship caught in the gale.

The victim was a girl who looked to be not too many years older than herself. She lay without a shred of clothing, fully exposed on her back, with her legs apart as though nature had determined that mere nakedness was not sufficient degradation. The head was tilted slightly to one side.

Susannah was distraught at the sight, but not afraid. She had seen death often, including her own father and brother, who had both passed on in their little home, her father from an accident and her brother as the result of an unidentified fever.

But how had the castaway come to be naked? Kneeling beside the body, Susannah removed her jacket and laid it discreetly across the girl’s hips – there was nothing she could do to preserve the modesty of the upper torso.

She closed her eyes and said aloud, “Almighty and merciful God, protect this poor soul and take her into Thy care.” She then clasped the ice-cold hand.

The slight movement caused water to spurt from the girl’s mouth, a common occurrence with drowning victims. Not so common was the little cough that followed. Then the eyes flickered open for a moment.

“Praise the Lord!” Susannah exclaimed. She attempted to help the scarcely living soul to her feet, but stopped when the injured girl cried out in pain.

“You must try to rise,” Susannah urged. “My home is not far.”

With great effort the girl managed to stand, though not without various pains that caused her to wince, moan, and even cry out. Laboriously, they made their way to the shack, where a fire would provide some sorely needed, comforting warmth.

With the girl seated on a stool before the hearth, Susannah fetched a blanket, but when she placed it across her shivering guest’s shoulders, the poor thing gasped with pain.

Fetching a lamp, Susannah looked closely at the girl’s back. One side, she observed, was scratched and torn from the shoulder to the haunches. Though the cuts were not deep, they were fire-red and angry-looking.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Susannah murmured. “That is very dirty, and needs to be washed. I shall apply some salve that Mother has, which may ease your suffering a little.”

She fetched warm water and the softest piece of cloth she could find, and gently cleaned the gashes.

The girl twitched repeatedly as Susannah bathed her wounds, but made no complaint. Susannah next applied the salve, with strokes as gentle as she could make them, and the girl hardly winced at all.

As she tended to the patient, Susannah introduced herself, asked the girl her name, and enquired as to what had happened.

“My name? I cannot seem to recall,” the girl said uncertainly. “All I remember is … rushing water, then I was lifted up and flung, and I was knocked against something, and then I was overboard and in the water … it was rough and the waves were fierce and I was very much afraid. And then … that is all that I can remember.”

“And before that – before you were on the ship?” Susannah prompted.

With a gasp of dread, the girl whispered, “I can’t remember … I remember nothing. Nothing at all!”

Though horrified, Susannah sensed it was important to keep her patient in the best possible spirits.

“You have been spared by the grace of God Almighty,” she said, “so I shall call you Grace until your memory returns.”

Only when her mother returned from the village at suppertime did Susannah and Grace garner any news.

“The Lady Elgin was lost in the storm,” Harriet informed them. “She must have been one of the passengers.”

“The Lady Elgin,” Susannah repeated to Grace. “The Lady Elgin – does the name have any meaning for you?”

“None. None at all,” Grace said sadly.

“A great many lives were lost in the tragedy,” Harriet went on. “The remains of the poor souls who were taken are everywhere. It will take time to identify them all. Meanwhile, child, you shall stay with us. Susannah, run to the village and fetch Doctor FitzHerbert at once.”

“I am very appreciative, Mistress Croft,” Grace protested. “But I cannot repay the kindness of you and your daughter. And I have nothing at all with which to pay a doctor.”

“You are no trouble to us, child,” Harriet assured her. “And Doctor FitzHerbert – well, he shall take one of Susannah’s excellent broths in settlement of his fee, and will be quite glad of it.”

Harriet spoke truly. The doctor, excited by news that the wreck had yielded another survivor, arrived at the shack within the hour. He was astonished at the girl’s condition, for, upon examination, he concluded Grace might have a broken rib but, with the exception of the savage scrapes on her back, she was otherwise uninjured. He noted that he could find no injury to Grace’s head that would explain her memory loss.

“The loss of memory might be merely the result of shock,” he said. “Or, as she was half-drowned, her brain might have suffered from a lack of air, causing the memory loss.”

“Will her memories return?” Susannah asked.

“Perhaps they will, in time,” the doctor mused. “Or possibly only some. Perhaps not at all. These things we do not know, cannot know – only God in His glory knows the human mind.”

He turned to Grace.

“Nevertheless, you are most fortunate, young miss,” he said. “I would call your survival a miracle. Many have been washed ashore on the tides, and few are still living. Most of the bodies were quite badly disfigured, and I suspect that a great number will defy all efforts to identify their remains.”

After dining, the doctor thanked Harriet for her hospitality and Susannah for her hearty broth, then took his leave.

Harriet told Susannah to defer clearing the dishes until the morning. “I think our poor visitor needs to sleep now,” she said.

Harriet had a room to herself, and Susannah would share her little bed with Grace. She offered her spare nightshirt to her guest, but Grace insisted she would sleep without covering, lest the material irritate her wounds.

Susannah thought nothing of it. She and her mother had spent many a restless summer night lying atop their bedclothes, spread-eagle and in a wholly natural state, yearning for a breath of wind from the lake. Yet her heart went out to this wretched creature, who feared even the slightest touch against her ravaged skin. In an instant, Susannah resolved to show her sympathy by sharing Grace’s burden. She, too, would sleep naked.

Grace watched in silence as her hostess disrobed. Then the girls climbed into bed together and cuddled closely, spooning to keep warm as there was no fire in the little bedroom.

“The touch of your flesh against me is soothing,” Grace purred, “and warm.”

They drifted to sleep, and did not wake until late the next morning, long after Harriet had left for Port Clinton.

“How do you feel this morning?” Susannah enquired. She was still spooned against Grace’s back, but not too tightly, as she had been the night before.

“There is less pain,” was Grace’s reply, “thanks to your care, and your mother’s salve.”

“Let’s get up and I shall apply some more,” Susannah suggested.

“Presently,” Grace replied.

She reached behind her with one hand and, following a short, groping search, found a spot her rescuer had always regarded as inviolable.

Susannah gasped in shock. “What are you doing?”

“Please let me,” Grace said. She turned carefully in the bed, so that they now faced one another. “I shall be as gentle with you as you have been with me!”

As a country girl, Susannah knew of the regenerative nature of the loins, and the urges they were said to produce in animals. But as a human being, blessed with the knowledge of right and wrong, she believed in her heart she would never succumb to base instinct. Yet this new sensation took her by surprise. It was immoral, she knew, yet the feeling was wonderful. She tingled all over, but she tingled most where Grace was touching her.

One spot in particular made her tremble each time Grace’s fingers moved across it. There was moisture too, which Grace spread liberally, as though slathering a goose with butter. Without even intending it, Susannah parted her legs. She longed for more of Grace’s ministrations, even if she was unwilling to admit it to herself.

Grace’s finger burrowed between the fleshy parts of her privates, to the very edge of her most sacred recess. Susannah felt herself challenged – she wondered how that finger would feel placed inside her, but also knew she must remain intact for her future husband, whoever he might be, on their first night together.

She could not decide which impulse to follow, but Grace’s actions made the decision for her. With her finger poised at Susannah’s entrance, she flicked her thumb against that luscious spot whose acquaintance Susannah had made only moments ago.

“Oh yes!” Susannah sighed. The words were out before she knew it, and Grace, thus encouraged, slid her finger forward – inside Susannah’s very body! Only a little way, to be sure, not even past the barrier, but soon …

Grace’s thumb continued to arouse Susannah, to the point at which she no longer cared about some unknown future husband, should there even be one.

“Oh yes!” she gasped again. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She felt the tension against her maidenhead, then the release. Grace’s finger was inside her now – completely.

Susannah had just enough time to think, I am now a woman! before a new sensation, more powerful than any she had ever experienced, began to build up inside her – and not just at the point where Grace’s finger was performing the proper office of a cock, but through her entire being.

The feeling continued to build, then reached its peak and crashed over her senses like a wave upon a rock. Susannah was aware of nothing but the ecstasy of being a woman. Every part of her clenched, then suddenly relaxed as the release surged through her.

A voice in her head cried out, “Oh sweet Jesus!” and her mouth echoed the words.

Her whole body shuddered as she gradually became aware of Grace’s finger plunging into her, and the thumb circling that magical spot, and Grace whispering, “Oh, you beautiful girl. Come for me, and keep coming!”

The overwhelming sensation was building up again, and Susannah silently prayed for its arrival.

This second time was even better than the first, because Susannah knew what was happening, and what she would experience when the climax arrived. She went rigid. She went limp. She cried out. She sobbed with joy.

“In the name of heaven, what are you doing to me?” she wailed.

“I’m fucking you,” Grace said simply. “It is God’s secret gift to women, but only for those who seek it out. Do you like me to fuck you?”

“Like it?” Susannah moaned through her sobs. “I adore it! It’s the most unbelievable … the most …”

It happened again – not as intense this time, but it lasted longer. Susannah wondered if she might faint, but she was determined not to allow herself – there was no way on God’s earth she was going to miss even a second of this rapture.

She was still crying uncontrollably as Grace rolled gingerly onto her back, wincing and gasping as she did so.

“Darling Susannah, do you think you can do those things to me?”

“Oh yes! Let me, please let me! Please?”

“Yes, but be gentle. I am very sore.”

Susannah Croft was gentle. The only thing that mattered was to return the ecstasy Grace had bestowed upon her. Her forsaken maidenhead was no longer a concern – a husband, and men generally, were no longer important. Even the duty to bear children was meaningless. Susannah Croft knew that, from this moment forward, the only thing she cared about was Grace – the shipwreck survivor she had not even known a mere day earlier.

Susannah idly thought of her mother – would she disapprove? She realized she didn’t care too greatly about that, either.

Their lips pressed together lightly for a moment. Instinctively, Susannah opened her mouth, and Grace’s lively tongue entered. This was kissing of a kind Susannah had never known, and she sucked the writhing muscle in encouragement. She also tasted the wetness that was trickling forth, and she knew that it was good.

As they kissed, Susannah’s hand found Grace’s breast and rested lightly upon it. It was fuller than her own, and elegantly shaped – the most perfect thing of all God’s creation. Its twin was equally perfect. Susannah had to kiss those emblems of womanhood.

Then, suddenly, she needed to see Grace’s most private place. Nudity was nothing new to her, but never had she been so close to another female, nor closely inspected those parts that made a woman. As she shifted position, Grace spread her legs wide.

Little folds of pink flesh, like lips, opened beneath Susannah’s gaze. She put her thumbs to them and peeled them back to see inside. Here she found a darker pink, with a sheen of clear moisture. (It must be part of loving, Susannah decided.) An indentation led deeper inside, beneath the tiny protrusion which she now knew gave so much pleasure. This work of God that lay between a woman’s legs outshone all others!

Acting solely on instinct, she put her lips to those beautiful parts and kissed Grace there. Grace’s deep sigh was her reward. Wanting to taste those parts, and that fluid – the nectar of love – she bore down harder and kissed more deeply.

Grace’s fruit was even sweeter, juicier, than the canned peaches Susannah had retrieved after the previous storm.

“Should I put my finger in you?” Susannah asked,

“Oh, yes, my love. And fuck me!”

“I shall … fuck you,” Susannah declared. If her mother heard her use such a word, she knew, her mouth would be washed out with soap.

She carefully inserted a single finger into Grace’s hole – and was amazed by the warmth and the texture. She began, gently, to pump her finger in and out, as she knew males did it with their manhood.

“Use two fingers!” Grace panted.

Two? Susannah wondered. Was that even possible? Would they fit? Yet surely Grace knew her own capacity, and the passage to her womb felt slippery and pliable enough.

Cautiously, Susannah slipped her fourth finger alongside the third, and she knew at once her fears had been unwarranted. Grace easily took both deep inside her, grasping them tight with her inner muscles. Susannah began to pump with her hand.

Then she remembered the thing Grace had done to her. With the thumb of the same hand, she burrowed between Grace’s slick pink folds, massaging the little bulb.

Grace twitched and gasped, “Oh, yes! You are learning!”

Susannah pressed down on the bulb, which seemed to respond by swelling against her thumb. Twisting her hand, she was soon able to pump with her two middle fingers, simultaneously squeezing the growing bud between thumb and forefinger.

“Ah, you are an enchantress!” Grace gasped, and she began to tremble.

As Susannah watched in disbelief, Grace experienced the same joy that she had dispensed only a few minutes before. Presently she reached up to pull Susannah down towards her, and kissed her again.

The taste of Grace’s mouth itself became sufficient reason for living. Timidly Susannah pushed her tongue forward. Now it was Grace’s turn to suck, and she made a soft humming sound as she did so – obviously one of approbation.

They kissed thus heedlessly awhile, but soon Susannah needed to explore Grace’s body, and to touch all of the firm but yielding flesh. She found herself delighting in playing with Grace’s breasts one again, discovering the dimple in her belly, and inspecting the bud that peeped from the pink folds between her legs. She would never lose her astonishment that something so tiny could afford such enormous pleasures.

Presently, she remembered something and told Grace to turn over. She wanted to apply lotion to Grace’s poor torn back, but before she could do so, she was entranced by the plump round globes of her bottom. She knew, of course, what lay between those globes, but still was compelled to look. Parted Grace’s flesh, and beheld the most delicate flower ever.

Dragging her attention back to the loathsome cuts and scrapes on Grace’s back, she put a little ointment onto the tips of her fingers and spread it over the wounds. Three times Grace hissed in pain, and three times Susannah apologized, but each time Grace told her that she knew Susannah would never intentionally hurt her.

Only in the middle of the afternoon did they finally leave the bed. After attending to the call of nature, they ate a little, although neither was very hungry.

As evening approached, Susannah donned a nightdress – she was fearful of her mother’s reaction if she were to find her entirely bare in the presence of a guest, and for no apparent reason. Indeed, when Harriet returned, she wondered at Susannah’s night attire. “Why in the world are you not dressed?’ she asked.

“Grace cannot bear the touch of cloth on her wounds, and I thought she would feel less shame for her nakedness if I too was naked. I have put this on only because you were due home.”

Harriet smiled, with a most peculiar expression on her face. “I saw you two in bed before I left this morning. You will recall that you were both unclad.”

Susannah’s face registered shock, but Harriet was not offended. She was not even perturbed.

“You looked so pretty together,” she said with a melodic lilt, “that way.”

“You are not angry?” Susannah whispered in disbelief.

“The only anger I feel is that you have not attended to your chores,” Harriet told her. “What do you imagine we shall have to eat tonight?”

Susannah hurried to prepare a meal for them all, assuring them that it would soon be ready.

“I have more news of the disaster on the lake,” Harriet announced over their meal. “It seems that the Lady Elgin was rammed by another vessel in the storm, and she quickly broke apart. Many bodies have washed ashore all along the coast, but there are more survivors in addition to Grace, thank the Lord.”

She paused as both girls whispered words of relief, then went on.

“It is unknown how many were aboard, nor how many have survived. And most passengers bought tickets without booking, so it is not known who might have been aboard.”

With that news, conversation came to a halt. With Grace’s assistance, Susannah set about clearing the table and washing the bowls, while Harriet took her ease.

When it came time for bed, Harriet wished them both goodnight. Then, to Susannah’s utter astonishment, she said, “Should you girls wish to play games with each other tonight, please do not make too much noise. I need my sleep, as I must work tomorrow, and in any case, I have no wish to hear such things.”

Turning, she went to her room. She left Susannah gaping after her.

The youngsters slept during the night, partly out of consideration for Harriet, but mainly out of embarrassment lest the adult overhear them. And provided that Susannah attended to her chores the following day, they could devote many hours to loving each other.

Although they woke at a reasonable time, Harriet had already left for her employment. Susannah performed her chores and treated Grace’s injuries. Then they partook of a midday meal.

The afternoon was spent in Susannah’s bed, before Susannah dressed in preparation for her mother’s return. Grace donned Susannah’s nightdress. She had been naked since her rescue and, although her wounds were still tender and were irritated by the cloth, she wanted Harriet to find her covered when she returned.

The evening meal was ready at the customary time, and Harriet thanked both girls for not overlooking the daily housework. As they relaxed after their meal, Susannah broached the subject that had been uppermost on her mind.

“Mother, what will become of Grace when she is well?”

“I do not know,” Harriet admitted. “Unless she can recall her name, or something about herself, it will be nearly impossible for her to contact her kinfolk.” She didn’t add the words, “If she still has any kin alive.”

“Might she stay with us, Mother?”

“As soon as I am able, I shall find a way to earn my keep,” Grace added, “should I be permitted to stay, that is. And I can teach Susannah her letters, so she will be able to read and write … and I can teach her to work numbers, too! Then she might be able to secure a good position.”

“I know my numbers,” Susannah insisted indignantly. “I can count. I am fourteen,” she added proudly.

“You need more than that, dear,” Harriet told her. “I can count, too, and I am thirty-seven. But there is much more. You must be able to work numbers – to make them work for you. You need to know how to add and take away, and be able to do times.”

The notion that Susannah could learn these things caused Harriet to dream. Although she did not possess such skills, she still had a good situation at a local manufactory. Yet she wanted more for her daughter than mere subsistence. The world of the future would leave the ignorant behind, and schools were being established in many small communities – even Port Clinton would someday have a school. And schools would need teachers …

“And you do not want Grace to leave, do you, child?”

“No, mother – I love her.”

Susannah had not intended to say that, but she could not take the words back.

A bleak look flashed across Harriet’s face. Susannah blushed with shame and hung her head.

“I’m sorry, mother, but it’s true. And I am certain that you know what I mean.”

Nodding slowly, Harriet turned to Grace. “And you? What do you say about that?”

“Only that I love Susannah – truly love her. And I want very much to be with her. And I also very much desire your acceptance.” She couldn’t gauge Harriet’s thoughts from her expression, so she went on. “I understand that such things are … unconventional, and are indeed disapproved of by many.”

Harriet, still silent, nodded.

“But I sense that you do not feel that way,” Grace continued. “Although you may not approve, you have in the last few days indicated that you can accept the feelings that Susannah and I have for each other. I believe too that you know the depth of those feelings, and that they are genuine.”

Speaking evenly, Harriet said, “I am convinced that Susannah loves you, but she is young and innocent, and may not have the wisdom yet to understand her desires.”

Susannah made to say something, but Harriet held up her hand. The girl knew better than to interrupt.

“And you, Grace – we don’t know your age, but I think that you are not too much older than Susannah. How well you know yourself and your feelings, none of us can tell.”

Harriet paused and Grace spoke up.

“I recall nothing of my past life, but I know that my affections are for those of my own sex. And I know how dearly I love Susannah.”

“Perhaps your past will come back to you, at which time many things might change,” Harriet said. “But I think that until that might happen, you should stay, at least for the time being.”

“Oh, Mother, thank you!” Susannah leapt to her feet and hugged Harriet, repeating the words, ‘thank you’.

Harriet looked over her daughter’s shoulder at Grace.

“I am most grateful for your hospitality and your consideration of my plight, and for your tolerance,” Grace said.

On to Chapter Two!

by BlueJean

Eliza…

Calm, Isabel. Be at peace.

Where is my sweet child?

Long departed, sister. Long departed. Let me soothe you.

You lie, Astris! Always you lie. She is near. She calls for her mama.

Hush, Isabel. That one is not your child.

She is mine!

No. She belongs to another. You must not harm her.

Liar! For long and long have you kept me anchored to this tree! But your power wanes, Astris. I can feel you fading, yet my reach grows further each day.

Do not fight me, Isabel. I am not your enemy.

Enough! Your kind knows nothing of motherhood… Eliza, my sweet, Mama is coming for you…

***

Mum says all honey is unique. It tastes different depending on where it comes from and what kind of nectar the bees collect. Newton honey is made from wildflower nectar and has a special flavour.

It took us nearly a whole day to harvest the second batch of honey and put it into jars. Some of it would go to the post office so Mrs. Jeffries could sell it for us, and the rest Mum would sell online, along with beeswax, royal jelly and something called propolis, which looks like bee poo but is actually a mix of saliva and beeswax that the bees use to seal up small holes in the hives. Mum says it’s an ingredient in some kind of varnish people use for musical instruments.

When we’d finished bottling the honey, Millie went outside to play with Bee, while me and Mum cleaned up. As I washed the storage buckets in the sink, I could see my sister through the kitchen window, standing in the garden with her back to me. She looked like she was shaking or something. Bee was sitting close by, poking her with a paw.

“What’s that girl doing now?” I mumbled.

“Hmm?” Mum stacked the last of the honey into boxes and then wandered over to peer out the window. “Let’s go see what’s happened.”

We hurried outside to find Millie cupping a little yellow bundle of feathers, tears streaming down her face. “He’s… he’s dead, Mummy! Nigel’s d-dead!” she sobbed, barely able to get the words out.

Mum knelt down and put her arms around my sister. “Oh, Millie. I’m so sorry.”

“Did Bee do it?” I asked, but Millie was crying so much she could only shake her head.

“I think it may have been a bird of prey,” Mum told me as she held my sister’s hand.

“It’s not fair! He spent his whole life in a cage and then… and then when he was finally free, something k-killed him!” Millie wailed.

Mum wiped away my sister’s tears and kissed her on the head. “Sometimes nature can be cruel, Millie. Your little bird didn’t understand about all the dangers out there in the world. He didn’t have anyone to teach him when he was young.”

“I hate nature, then!” Millie sobbed. “I’ll go live in the big tree where no one can hurt me or make me cry anymore!”

I stroked my sister’s back. “Don’t say that, Millie.” Hearing her talk like that made me feel scared. She could be a bit annoying sometimes but I didn’t want her to disappear inside a tree.

Mum managed to persuade Millie to part with Nigel so she could put him into a big matchbox. “We could have a funeral for him. Would you like that?” she asked my sister.

Millie gave a sad nod. “We should invite Miss Laine.”

“Oh. Well, Sadie didn’t really know your canary, sweetie.”

“I want her to come, though,” Millie insisted.

“All right, I’ll ask her.”

“And Mr. Dalliard, too.”

“We probably shouldn’t bother Mr. Dalliard.”

My sister turned to me. “He’d be quite upset if we didn’t invite him, wouldn’t he Freya?”

I didn’t think Mr. Dalliard would be too bothered really, but I knew Millie would start crying again if I didn’t agree with her. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

So, the next day we held a little service for Nigel in the garden.

Mr. Dalliard turned up wearing his WW2 beret and all his medals attached to his smart blazer. He used a walking stick to get around, which I’d never seen him do before. I hadn’t really believed him when he said he was the oldest person in the world, but he definitely looked older lately. Old and tired.

“Oh, Mr. Dalliard, you didn’t need to go to all that effort,” Mum told him as she fetched him a chair.

“Weren’t no bother, really,” Mr. Dalliard said and gave my sister’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “‘Ow ya ‘oldin’ up, littlun?”

Millie did a big sigh. “I’m okay, thanks.”

Miss Laine knelt down and took my sister’s hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Millie.”

Millie looked a bit confused. “Pardon?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss. That’s what you say to people when they lose someone special.”

“I didn’t lose him, Miss Laine. A nasty bird pecked him to death.”

“Oh. yes, I didn’t mean you’d actually lost him. Pecked to death, though, that’s… that’s horrible… poor thing.”

“Terrible way to go,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

Mum put the big matchbox down on the ground next to a hole that we’d dug in the rose bed, then cleared her throat. “So, we’re gathered here today to pay our respects to… um… sorry, what was his name?”

“Nigel,” Millie said with a frown.

“To Nigel, who was Millie’s beloved canary, and whose life was cut tragically short.” Mum paused and then continued. “It’s always hard when a friend dies, isn’t it? Really hard. And sad. Really, really sad. So… yeah… Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” She trailed off awkwardly. Mum wasn’t very good at this kind of thing, not really.

Miss Laine stepped forward. “If it wasn’t for Millie, that poor little bird would have spent his whole life in a cage on Mrs. Jeffries’ shop counter, which is no life for anyone. But Millie saved him, and thanks to her, for the first time in his life he discovered the freedom of the skies. Isn’t that amazing?”

“But a bird got him and pecked him to death,” Millie pointed out.

“And then he got pecked to death. Which is not ideal,” Miss Laine concluded.

“Terrible,” Mr. Dalliard added.

“Yes… thank you, Sadie,” Mum said. “Would you like to say some words, Millie?”

Millie took a big breath. “Well, I just wanted to set Nigel free because it’s really sad to see a bird in a cage and there’s no point having wings if you can’t use them to fly and it’s like having… it’s like… having legs but not being able to run. Well, you can have a wheelchair to get around, actually, but it’s better to be able to run… and birds don’t have wheelchairs anyway. So he was really happy to fly for the first time and he was definitely happy because he used to fly around and go, ‘tweet tweet tweet!’ and so that’s how I know he was happy, but then a big bird swooped down and pecked him to death and the big bird didn’t even eat him, so it probably just pecked him to death for fun, which is really mean, and I hope an even bigger bird swoops down and pecks the big bird to death too, so it knows how it feels to be pecked to death.”

We all stared at Millie, unsure what to say after a speech like that.

“I’ve finished now,” my sister informed us and sniffed.

“That was lovely, Millie,” Miss Laine said and put her arm around my sister.

“Aye, a fine speech,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

“Would you like to say something, Freya?” Mum asked me.

“No thanks,” I replied, but Millie gave me the stare of death. “Um, just that, I’m glad he found some happiness with us, really.”

Millie clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, though.

“And… we didn’t have to pay much for him? So that was good,” I offered.

“Will Mrs. Jeffries give us our money back, Mummy?” Millie asked.

“Oh, I think that ship’s sailed, sweetie,” Mum told her.

“Always keep the receipt,” Mr. Dalliard said, helpfully.

Mum spoke again. “Well. Unless anybody else would like to say something, I think we should lower Neville—”

“Nigel!”

“Uh, I think we should lower Nigel into the grave. Girls, would you do the honours?”

It felt a bit silly, putting a matchbox into the flowerbed with Millie. One person could have done it easily but it was important that I was there for my sister on this terrible day. So we took a side each and lowered the little coffin into the ground and then covered it over with soil. I hoped Bee didn’t dig it up and eat what was left of Nigel. Millie took a cross she had made out of lollipop sticks and stuck it in the little grave.

Mr. Dalliard sang an old war song about fallen comrades, which was a little bit embarrassing, but it was a nice thing to do, I suppose.

Miss Laine had a bunch of flowers in her hands but she just picked a single flower to put on Nigel’s grave, leaving me wondering why she didn’t leave them all.

After we’d eaten some sandwiches and had a glass of lemonade, Mr. Dalliard got up to head home. Mum tried to persuade him to accept a lift in the car but Mr. Dalliard insisted he would keep walking as much as he could while he was still able. Before leaving, he went over to have a chat with Miss Laine. They were speaking really quietly and kept looking over at me and Millie. I wondered what they were talking about.

Miss Laine told us she needed to visit someone and would be back soon. As Mum and Millie took the plates and glasses inside to wash them up, I watched my teacher moving along the dirt track on the other side of the poppy field, heading toward the forest. I didn’t have a clue who she might be visiting – there weren’t any other houses in that direction for miles, and anyway, wouldn’t it have been quicker to take her car?

I decided to follow her. “Mum, I’m just going up to the post office to buy some sweets,” I shouted through the kitchen window.

“Okay, but take Millie and Bee with you,” Mum called back.

“I move quicker alone…” I replied in a really cool voice, then set off, taking a shortcut through the poppy field in pursuit of my elusive quarry.

***

“Freya! I said take – Oh, that girl!” I exclaimed as my wayward daughter ran off through the poppy field.

“I don’t want to go to the post office anyway, Mummy – I’m in mourning,” Millie declared.

“Oh, my baby’s in mourning!” I said dramatically and picked her up, peppering her face with kisses.

Millie tried her best not to smile, so I trailed more kisses down her neck. Finally her resolve broke, and she burst out laughing.

“Oh my goodness! Our little mourner is having a giggling fit!” I gasped, attacking her with more kisses.

“You made me!” Millie squealed.

She started to slip down my body, so I cupped her bum and hoofed her up. “You’re getting big,” I told her.

“You’re big!”

“You are!”

“No, you are!”

“You!”

“You!”

She rested her head in the crook of my neck and we laughed together. We stayed like that for a spell – me cradling my younger daughter, rocking her gently from side to side, just as I’d done when she was a babe.

“Why do things have to die, Mummy?” Millie asked me softly.

I wasn’t sure how to answer a question like that. Children seem to think their parents have a unique understanding of how the universe works. I tried my best to answer truthfully. “It’s all part of a big cycle, I suppose. Old things pass away and new things take their place.”

“Nigel wasn’t old, though.”

“Some things go before their time, Pixie. I’m not sure why.”

“Daddy wasn’t old either, was he?”

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

“At least he wasn’t pecked to death,” Millie offered.

Being pecked to death was probably preferable to slowly dying of cancer in a hospice bed, but my little girl didn’t need to know that.

“Let’s move over to the couch before you break my back.” I carried her into the lounge where the french doors were slung back to suffuse the room in a hazy afternoon light. I stroked her bum as she sat in my lap.

Millie began caressing my collar bone with her fingertips. She glanced up at me with an impish grin. “Does that tickle?”

“Not really,” I replied. “It feels nice, though.”

“Shall we do a dare?” Millie asked.

“What kind of dare?”

“I’ll let you put your hand up my skirt if you let me touch your boobies.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “I’m not sure that’s a dare,” I told her.

“It is, because I might say no or you might say no.”

“I probably won’t say no. Will you?”

Millie giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“I don’t think it’s a dare, then.”

She thought about that for a second. “Okay, but shall we do it anyway?”

Gently does it, I told myself. Let’s see where this is going. “Go on, then. Undo the buttons on my shirt.”

“‘Kay. You can put your hand up my skirt while I’m doing that.”

I moved my hand down onto her bare legs and then back up underneath her skirt, caressing my daughter’s podgy bottom through her panties.

Millie, meanwhile, unhooked the buttons on my linen shirt, down and down until it hung open slightly, teasing the swell of my cleavage.

“Shall I touch them now?” she asked me.

I smiled and nodded to her. “Pull my shirt open first, so you can see what you’re doing.”

She tugged the halves of my shirt apart, gave me a big grin, then asked, “Mummy, why don’t you wear a bra much?”

“Bras are for city girls. Country girls like to hang free,” I told her with a wry smile.

I stroked and squeezed her bum as she explored my breasts, and soon the familiar glow of arousal smouldered between my legs.

I wanted to experiment with my youngest daughter, I realised, just as I’d done with Freya. But Millie was only seven and I wasn’t sure how far I should take things with her, so I was content to let her initiate and lead this sexy little game, wherever she might choose to take it.

“How does that feel?” I asked as she sat on my lap kneading my tits, occasionally rolling my nipples between her fingers.

“Do you mean me feeling your boobies, or you feeling my bottom?”

“Well… both, I suppose.”

“Oh, it’s quite nice. Your boobies are all squidgy!”

“So’s your bum!” I said and gave her arse a playful pinch.

“Ahhh!” Millie squealed and wriggled about on my lap. She looked me in the eye, then that impish smile was back. “Mummy, I know some other things we could do, but if they’re too rude, do you promise not to tell me off?”

Hearing my little girl say that sent a surge of lust through me that quickly centred in my pussy. How rude could a seven-year-old be? I’d seen her going down on her big sister, and that left me wondering what it would feel like to have a little girl licking my cunt.

I gave her a serious look. “I promise not to tell you off, but whatever we do has to be our secret, okay?”

She gave me a big exaggerated nod. “It’s okay, I won’t tell.”

“What would you like to do, then?”

“So… I could suck your boobies… you know, like a baby,” Millie suggested.

I nearly moaned out loud. “I don’t mind if you do that, but you have to think of something I could do to you, too,” I told her, playing along with her childish erotic game.

Millie thought for a moment. “Um… okay, I’ll let you touch the front of my panties instead of the back.”

God, yes. “That works for me,” I said and slid my hand round to place it on my child’s panty-covered mound, stroking her there.

Millie latched onto my nipple and suckled like a newborn. I wondered if some part of her subconscious remembered feeding from me, reawakening some dormant instinct.

“That’s nice,” I told her and stroked her hair with my free hand. I traced the crease of her pussy lips, feeling the warmth of it through her knickers.

Millie released my breast with a pop. “How long shall we do this for?” She asked me, her breath warm against my moist nipple.

“However long you want,” I told her.

“No, you have to say. Then when we’re done, I’ll think of something even ruder we can do, okay?”

I found myself wondering what naughty ideas my little girl might conjure up next. “All right, then. How about… five minutes?” I suggested.

“Okey-dokey!” Millie chirped, then proceeded to nurse at my other tit as I fondled her between the legs.

Occasionally checking my watch, I let my little girl suckle from me until our five minutes had expired. I took my hand from under her skirt and lightly tapped her shoulder. “Time’s up, imp.”

“Oh, that went quick, didn’t it?” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“It sure did. So what’s next?” I said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement.

“Now you have to close your eyes,” she told me.

“Ah, this is where you steal all my valuables and run away, isn’t it?” I joked.

Millie laughed. “No, I won’t do that, I promise. But don’t open them until I say, okay?”

“All right, I’m trusting you.” Closing my eyes, I felt the weight of her vanish from my lap as she climbed off me.

I could hear the rustling of clothes and her little huffs and puffs as she went about doing whatever it was she was doing. “You can open your eyes now,” she said.

I snapped open my eyes to find my little girl on the couch, standing astride my legs, her pantied crotch mere inches from my face. She’d tucked the hem of her pink skirt into its waistband, and had pulled her matching panties right up so the material stretched over her vulva like a second skin.

“Look, you can see my kitty through my knickers!” Millie told me, just in case it wasn’t obvious.

I stared between my daughter’s legs. “I certainly can.”

“I’ll actually let you kiss it, if you want.”

My pussy ached and throbbed. I needed a hand inside my panties – I just wasn’t sure whose hand. “That’s very daring of you,” I told her.

“Yeah, I am quite daring, to be honest. More than Freya,” Millie boasted.

“So… I should kiss it?” I asked her, gently steering us back on track.

“Mm-hmm,” Millie hummed at me with a nod.

I planted my lips on her mound and kissed my daughter through her panties. She giggled, twitching away for an instant, but then pushing her crotch into my face for more. I made contact again – longer this time, gently sucking on her pussy lips as she pressed her hips forward, almost humping my face.

After a while, I gazed up at her. “Enough?”

Millie shook her head. “No… but wait. Close your eyes again, Mummy.”

I shut my eyes and smiled, wondering what I would open them to this time.

More rustling of clothing and a soft jingly laugh. Whatever she was doing, she was certainly enjoying herself.

“And you definitely won’t tell me off?” Millie asked me.

“I definitely won’t,” I reassured her.

“Almost… okay, almost ready. You can kiss it again, but keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“All right, then.”

She drew my head towards her, guiding me between her legs, and quite unexpectedly, it wasn’t her panties that brushed against my lips but the silky smooth skin of a little girl.

Millie giggled. “Now you can open your eyes, Mummy.”

Her panties were gone. So was her skirt. My daughter stood over me in just her t-shirt and cute little pink socks. Her puffy mound was hairless and blemish free, a rose bulb not yet ready to burst into flower. I’d seen my seven-year-old naked many times, of course, but now I viewed her through a lens of sexual attraction.

“I made you kiss my kitty!” a pleased Millie gasped.

“You did,” I told her. “And now… now I’m going to kiss it again.”

I put my mouth over her mons and gently sucked, sampling her flavour. She tasted incredible – sweet; tart, the forbidden spice of a child, no hint yet of the muskiness of sexual maturity. I planted a kiss on one little lip, then the other, savouring the moment.

“I don’t mind if you lick it,” Millie told me.

That was the only encouragement I needed. I drew my tongue up her childish slit.

I was actually doing it, going down on my seven-year-old daughter. Too late for regrets now. A line crossed is a line crossed forever.

Clutching my head, Millie ground against me while my tongue explored freely, flicking and lashing over her sweet baby cunt. I reached round to cup her bum – two soft globes in the palm of my hands.

All pretences of a fun little game had been pushed aside. This was lovemaking, plain and simple. I licked Millie’s pretty pink cleft, then nuzzled her tiny clit until, quite suddenly, she tensed against me and exhaled a big sigh, her mouth hanging ajar, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she came. Her legs trembled slightly as I peppered a few final kisses on her beautiful pussy.

“I think you just had an orgasm, Pixie,” I said, smiling up at her.

She slumped back down into my lap and nodded, strands of damp hair plastered to her forehead.

“Can Mummy have a kiss?” I asked my daughter.

Millie lunged at me and crushed her mouth to mine, then gave me what I can only describe as a rather vigorous face wash.

I put a finger on her lips and she pulled back, looking pleased with herself. “Wow! Okay. That was different,” I told her, laughing.

Millie grinned at me. “That’s how they do it on the telly.”

“Not quite, my little facehugger.” I gently pulled her towards me. “Our tongues are supposed to dance together, not fight each other to the death. Like this.” Parting my lips, I kissed my little girl, tongue lightly teasing hers. Soon enough, Millie found my rhythm, and we kissed as lovers.

When finally we separated, my daughter had a chuckle for me. “You taste like marmalade.”

“Well, you taste like bubblegum,” I retorted, rubbing her little nose with mine.

“I’ll lick your kitty now, okay? I know how to lick kitties,” she declared.

“Oh, do you now? And where would a little girl learn something like that, I wonder?” I teased, knowing full well what she and her sister had been getting up to.

Millie made a face like a startled monkey – her fibbing face. “Um… Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

I laughed. “Nice try, sweetie, but I don’t think Miss Laine would teach her pupils something like that.” Actually, I suspected Miss Laine would very much like to teach her young charges those kinds of lessons.

“No, not Miss Laine. I meant… I saw it on the telly.”

“You’ve been watching ladies licking each other’s kitties on the TV?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.

Millie shook her head. “No. It was a book, actually. I… read it by accident.”

I smiled and kissed her on the nose. “I think you’re a little fibber. And as punishment I think you should get down on your hands and knees, pull Mummy’s panties off and give her pussy a really good licking.”

Millie grinned at me and shuffled off the couch while I took my trousers off and threw them on the floor. I sat up and scooted to the edge of the couch as my daughter sat intrigued beneath me. She grasped the waistband of my now sopping knickers and I lifted my bum slightly so she could slip them down my legs.

“Did you wee in them?” Millie asked me, tossing the wet undies on the floor.

“No, I’m fully house trained, thank you very much. They’re all wet because you made me very excited, if you must know.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“’Cause you liked licking my kitty?”

“Exactly.” I spread my knees apart and cupped her chin, gently guiding her towards my steaming cunt. “Now lick my pussy. Just like I licked yours.”

I thought Millie might hesitate, but it seemed she was keen to taste her mummy. Her little kitten tongue flicked playfully against my cunt, and I jolted slightly at the sensation, my pent up arousal finally given an outlet. She tasted me again, then licked her lips, sampling the musky tang. Clearly approving, she pushed her tongue through my outer labia.

I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh, surrendering to my child’s mouth. “That’s so nice, Millie.”

“It tastes different to… oh, never mind,” she said, then returned to her task.

I ran my fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, Pixie. I know you and your sister have been doing rude things together. I don’t mind. Now lick Mummy out like a big girl. Make me come on your face.”

Millie put her fingers on my cunt and prised me open, spreading my fleshy lips apart and inspecting me with considerable interest. It occurred to me how different she was to her sister – Freya was shy, often uncertain, whereas Millie was bold and outgoing, always keen to try new things. And this was certainly new.

“Do you like looking inside Mummy’s pussy? Is it exciting?” I asked her.

“It’s really juicy in there,” she told me, then casually added, “I’m gonna put my tongue in, okay?”

Cradling my daughter’s head, I guided her to my waiting cunt, then attended to the urgent throb of my clit with a free hand. “Eat me, baby girl. Tongue fuck Mummy.”

Millie pressed her mouth to my steamy cunt, spreading my labia open and probing the hot pink flesh within – a busy little bee supping at her queen’s flower. And although that image didn’t quite make sense, the absurdity of it filled me with delight and drew a titter from my lips.

I stroked my little girl’s hair as she feasted upon me. “There you go, little bee. Drink Mummy’s nectar. Buzz buzz buzz.”

Millie gazed up at me, her tongue still eagerly flicking away. “Nnn?”

“Naughty little buzzy bee,” I gasped, spreading my legs as wide as I could. “Look at all the sweet honey you’re making. Lick it all up, baby bee!”

My daughter must have thought I’d gone completely mad, yet still she busied herself between my legs, lapping at my throbbing cunt while I humped against her, my impending climax fast approaching boiling point.

“Ooh yeah, little bee!” I cried, as my orgasm erupted violently. “Eat Mummy’s sticky flower! Suck my cunt! Oh! Fuck!”

I held Millie against my twitching loins as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me. For those few seconds I could hear nothing, see nothing – my entire being condensed down into a singular point of orgasmic bliss. Once the storm had passed, I closed my eyes and slumped back into the couch, basking in the pleasant afterglow.

Eventually, I came back down to Planet Earth and opened my eyes again. Millie was still kneeling on the floor looking up at me, her mouth smeared with my essence. “You said a lot of bad words, Mummy,” she told me in no uncertain terms.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I most certainly did!” I confessed, slapping myself on the wrist. “Naughty Mummy!” I cleaned Millie’s face up with her panties, then handed them to her. “Put those on, sweetie. Freya will be back soon.”

***

 

Footprints. Flat heeled. Size four, maybe a five. Freshly made and heading towards the forest.

She was no more than half a day in front of me, but I would need to pick up the pace if I was going to catch up to her.

I stood up and spat on the ground, squinting against the glare of the hot sun, then made my way towards the line of trees in the distance.

Freshly snapped branches. Insignificant to anyone else, but not me. I was an expert tracker, having been captured and raised by the Apaches. It gave me an edge as a bounty hunter; it was why I had a reputation for being the best.

This is where she had entered the forest, probably thinking she could lose me amongst the trees. But I knew these woods like the back of my hand, having been raised by wolves here. Before the Apaches found me, obviously.

Continuing to observe the signs, I followed the trail until finally it led me to her.

As I suspected. The old fireplace in the woods.

She was bent down, her back to me. I knew how this would go: I would sneak up on her and just as I was but a few feet away she would suddenly turn to face me and say something like, “Ah, Freya Newton. I’ve been expecting you.”

I stepped on a twig and snapped it.

Miss Laine spun round. “Arrgh!” she screamed, flapping her hands up and down.

“Waaaah!” I screamed back, startled.

“Freya! You nearly made me pee my pants!”

“I – I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Why are you sneaking around in the woods?” Miss Laine demanded to know.

“I… I was just out for a nice walk,” I improvised, before adding, “Fancy meeting you here!”

I should have known better than to try and fool my teacher. Miss Laine stood there with her hands on her hips. “Did you follow me, young lady?”

“No. Yes. A bit.”

Miss Laine threw her head back and laughed. She had a nice laugh – soft and jingly like… er… a fluffy bell? Maybe? Well, I like her laugh anyway. Finally giving me a smile, she said, “Can I ask why you followed me?”

“I dunno, really. Just curious to know where you were going, I suppose.”

“Well, now you know, Nosy Newton!” Miss Laine stepped away from the old fireplace and I could see the bunch of flowers she’d placed there – the same ones I’d noticed her holding back at our house.

“So it was you who’s been leaving flowers here,” I said to her.

Miss Laine looked surprised. “You’ve been here before?”

I nodded. “Millie found the fireplace a while back. We wondered who’d left the flowers.”

“And now you know that too, I guess.”

“Why do you leave flowers here?”

Miss Laine sighed and studied the remains of the old hut, as if she was trying to imagine what it might have looked like before the forest rotted it away. “To honour the memory of the lady who used to live here.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Who was she?”

“An ancestor of mine. Her name was Isabel.”

“Why’d she live in a forest?”

“Well, Isabel was a herbalist and a healer. I imagine most of her herbs came from the forest, so it seems like a sensible place to live. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s what Millie said too,” I pondered.

Miss Laine looked confused. “Er… you might need to explain that.”

“Millie said something about a lady who makes medicine. She must have meant Isabel.”

“How on earth would Millie know that?”

So I told Miss Laine the same tale I’d shared with Mr. Dalliard – about how Millie would touch things and space out and say weird stuff, and about our trip through the Menhir Stone. When I finished, I expected my teacher to burst out laughing or tell me off for lying, but to my surprise she put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a serious look.

“And this all started when your sister touched the ancient oak tree, you say?”

“Yeah.”

Miss Laine put both hands to her head and made a face. “I’ve been going to the wrong place all this time,” she said, more to herself than to me. “Isabel wasn’t here at all, she was in that damned tree. Shit!” She gave me a sheepish look. “Um, excuse my language.”

“That’s okay, I won’t tell,” I assured her. “What do you mean about Isabel not being here, though?”

Miss Laine studied me carefully, as if she were deciding whether I could be trusted or not. “Let’s walk home and I’ll do my best to explain. Some of it, at least.”

We left the old fireplace behind and came out on the hikers’ track that wound its way through the forest.

“I’ve been trying to send Isabel on her way, Freya,” Miss Laine explained. “It’s what I came here to do.”

That confused me. If Isabel was an ancestor, didn’t that mean she wasn’t alive? “Send her where?”

“Onwards. To the place where spirits go.”

“Huh?” I said, still not really understanding.

“Okay, that part’s complicated… and it’s not important right now. The point is, something bad happened to Isabel and her spirit didn’t move on. So she needs help.”

“What happened to her?”

Miss Laine came to a halt and gave me another serious look. “I’m not sure you’re old enough to know about that.”

I crossed my arms and stood up straight, giving my teacher a fierce look. “I bloody well am old enough, actually! I’ve been back in time and seen Dryads and Neanderthals! And now I’m trying to help my sister ’cause she’s in trouble, so don’t you give me any of that ‘you’re too young’ shit, okay?!”

“Freya Newton!” gasped Miss Laine, then burst out laughing, a hand held up to her mouth in shock.

“I’m not joking!” I shouted at her.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll tell you. But you probably shouldn’t mention this to your mum.”

I uncrossed my arms and relaxed a bit. I couldn’t quite believe I’d just spoken to my teacher like that!

“It’s not a nice thing to talk about, but some bad people said Isabel was a witch and hung her to death from the oak tree down by the fields – the same one Millie touched.”

I was shocked to hear that. “A witch? But they must have known witches aren’t real.”

It was Miss Laine’s turn to cross her arms now. “And what makes you think witches aren’t real?”

“They only exist in fairy tales and stories, don’t they?” I replied.

“Are Dryads real?” Miss Laine asked me.

It wasn’t long ago that I had told Mum and Miss Laine that Millie had been making it up about the Dryad. But after our trip through the Menhir Stone, I saw things differently. “Yeah… I think they might be.”

Miss Laine simply raised an eyebrow, and then I understood. This was how she taught us in school. She never told us the answer, just pointed us in the right direction and let us discover the truth ourselves. It was a really clever way of teaching.

“I guess witches could be real too, if Dryads are,” I admitted.

We continued on towards the edge of the forest.

“So Isabel was a witch?” I said.

“Yes.”

“But aren’t witches bad?”

“Witches are probably not what you think they are, Freya. History has taken the image of the witch and turned it into something to be feared and loathed. People have hunted witches for thousands of years, and Isabel learnt that the hard way – they took her away and killed her. But something happened and her spirit didn’t move on like it should have. Do you understand?”

I wasn’t sure I did, but kind of got the gist of it. “I think so. How do you know all this, though?”

“That’s hard to explain. Basically, I’ve spent a long time trying to piece it all together. The tree was the missing part. I thought she would have gone home, and there’s certainly old magic around that hut – the mushrooms indicate as much. But it could be the tree she’s anchored to. It would make sense, if that was where she died.”

My mind was a whirlwind of questions and confusion. Maybe all the weird stuff Millie was doing wasn’t the Dryad at all – maybe it was this Isabel. My sister had mentioned a ‘bad Dryad’. Could she have meant Miss Laine’s ancestor? “I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, but do you think Isabel has maybe, um… possessed my sister or something?”

Miss Laine mulled that over. “I’m honestly not sure, Freya. You see, I’m quite new at all this. Millie must be very receptive to magic if Isabel has managed to latch on to her. And tapping into the Menhir Stone like she did is definitely out of my league. I need to do some more research. In the meantime, keep this conversation between us, but keep a close eye on your sister. If anything odd happens, you let me know straight away, all right?”

“Yeah, I will.” I suddenly felt relieved that we might actually be getting somewhere with this. And also that Miss Laine didn’t think I was completely mental.

But there was something else I wanted to ask, too – something a bit embarrassing. “Um… Sadie?”

“Hmm?” Miss Laine said, her mind clearly on more important things.

“Did you give Mum your knickers so she could give them to me?” I asked and felt my face glow.

“My knickers? Oh. Well.” Miss Laine burst out laughing again. “I suppose I did, yes.”

I smiled shyly and pretended to scratch my nose. “Why?”

My teacher put a hand on my shoulder. “A little bird told me you like to have fun with dirty panties. Did I get it wrong?”

OMG, what else had Mum told Miss Laine about me? She made me promise not to speak to anyone about the rude things we’d been doing, but apparently she was allowed to tell whoever she liked. Parents are such hippopotamuses!

I shrugged and told Miss Laine, “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit… but yeah, I do kind of like them.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s normal to experiment at your age. At any age, actually,” Miss Laine told me. I felt her touch the back of my neck, lightly stroking me there. “I have a confession, too.”

“You do?” I asked, intrigued.

Miss Laine came to a halt, bent down and whispered in my ear. “I really liked kissing your bottom!”

I let out a stupid high-pitched giggle then, suddenly feeling awkward, cleared my throat. “Oh. Um… thanks. Well, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to kiss it again, you know?”

Miss Laine seemed to consider that very carefully, but shook her head. “Oh, Freya, there’s nothing I’d like more than to kiss your pretty bottom again, but we shouldn’t do anything like that without your mum’s permission.”

“Mum won’t mind,” I insisted.

“Maybe she will and maybe she won’t, but either way, it’s important that she has the final say. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I did things behind her back, now would I?”

I sighed. “I suppose not.” Then I had an idea. “We could show each other our kitties, though. That’s not actually touching, is it?”

Miss Laine laughed again. “Oh, my goodness! You’re incorrigible!”

“Can we, though?” I persisted.

Miss Laine looked around to make sure no one was in the vicinity. “Come into the trees, then. I don’t want anyone seeing us.”

We headed off the path and into the forest a little ways.

Miss Laine knelt down amongst the ferns and slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You first.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Will you definitely show me yours afterward?”

“I’m a woman of my word. If I say I’ll show you, I’ll show you.”

“You didn’t actually say you’d show me, though,” I pointed out.

“I’ll show you!” Miss Laine said, quick as a flash.

“Okay, good.” I pulled my shorts and panties down to my knees in one quick movement, then lifted my t-shirt up so she had a good view of everything.

Miss Laine stared between my legs with a dreamy look on her face. “My goodness, what a pretty little kitty,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Is it?” I asked.

“Oh yes, it’s beautiful. So smooth and fresh…”

I wanted her to touch it. But I knew that wouldn’t happen today. “Can I see yours now?”

“Show me your bum first,” my teacher said.

I turned around and gave her a little wiggle. “Do you like my bum, too?”

“It’s perfect,” Miss Laine told me with a happy sigh.

Then, feeling daring, I took hold of my bum cheeks and spread them apart, showing off my bumhole in a really dirty way. I hoped I was clean back there. “What about now? Do you still like it when I do this?” I asked my teacher with a smirk.

“Oh, dear.” Miss Laine perched a finger on her bottom lip and blinked a few times, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “What a naughty young lady. It’s… it’s so incredibly rude to spread yourself open like that.” Well, the way she was staring, I don’t think Miss Laine was quite as shocked as she pretended to be.

Letting go of my bum cheeks, I turned round to face my teacher. “Your turn now,” I insisted.

Miss Laine stood up and leant back against a tree. “Kneel down then, and I’ll show you.”

I squatted down in front of her, my knickers still stretched around my knees.

Miss Laine lifted her red dress up, revealing matching lacy panties and stockings. “Are you sure you want to see?” she asked me.

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I definitely do.”

She peeled her knickers to one side, and there I was, face to face with my teacher’s kitty for the first time ever. Except, you know, kitties don’t really have a face.

It was true what Mum had said: Miss Laine liked to shave her pussy. It was as smooth as mine except for a little tuft of hair at the top. I stared and stared, my mouth hanging open in awe.

“Do you approve, Freya Newton?” my teacher asked me in a husky voice.

I nodded slowly. “It’s really pretty. I… I’d love to touch it.”

Miss Laine shook her head and waggled a finger at me. “No tou-ching! Not each other, at least.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her.

“Take your panties off and give them to me,” Miss Laine instructed.

I didn’t hesitate; just slipped my shorts and panties off and then handed her the knickers.

Miss Laine pulled her own undies round her knees and then inspected mine. “Little girl panties with butterflies on. How delightful.” Pressing my knickers between her legs, she began rubbing them up and down her kitty.

“Oh, wow,” I gushed. I think I preferred touching, but after seeing Mum play with herself and now Miss Laine, I knew that watching could be lots of fun, too. No wonder adults liked looking at rude videos on the internet!

Miss Laine spread her pussy open and pushed my knickers between her lips, masturbating herself. “Is this okay, Freya? Making myself feel good with your panties?”

“Yeah, I really like watching rude stuff,” I replied, enthralled.

“Oh gosh, I feel so horny. I hope you don’t mind if I come on your knickers.”

“I don’t mind,” I told her as she scrubbed her gorgeous pussy with my panties, soaking all the butterflies in her juices. I slipped a hand between my legs and fingered myself, amazed at the dirty thing my teacher was doing in front of me.

“I could see you in class, Freya Newton,” Miss Laine told me as she rubbed herself. “Showing all the other girls your pussy under the table.”

Oh my God, she’d seen me do that? So embarrassing! But also… kind of exciting!

“I so wanted you to show me your pussy, too,” she continued. “And now you have. And your sexy little bumhole. Now I’m going to come. All over your pretty butterfly panties.”

Miss Laine went all tense and froze in place. “Oh, goodness! You. Sexy. Little. Girl!” She clutched my knickers to her kitty, making a mess of them as she orgasmed.

After seeing that, I was close to doing an orgasm too. I pushed my middle finger in and out of myself until that familiar feeling rushed up and surrounded me. “Miss Laine! I’m gonna lick your kitty one day!” I gasped, without really thinking what I was saying. I only just managed to keep my balance as I came, still squatting just above the ground.

Miss Laine bent to kiss me on the head, then handed me back my panties. “Put those back on, and then let’s get you home before your mum starts to worry.”

I slipped into my knickers. They were warm and wet and I didn’t ever want to take them off. Miss Laine pulled her own panties back up and pushed her dress down. I put my shorts on and, hand in hand, we headed home.

***

I was hanging out the laundry with Millie when Sadie and Freya strolled through the poppy field and up the garden towards us. Freya ran over to her sister, babbling about witches and someone called Isabel. Another one of their games, no doubt.

Sadie sauntered over and smiled, a slightly flushed look to her face.

I smirked at her. “Been sneaking off with my daughter, have you?”

“Not exactly,” Sadie replied.

I could smell sex on her. “Have you… been doing stuff together?” I asked.

Sadie winced a little. “No. I mean, a little showing, but no touching. Is that okay?”

I kissed Sadie on the mouth, a bedsheet gently blowing in the breeze, hiding us from the girls’ view. “Yes, it’s okay,” I told my best friend. “Actually… I think it’s about time the four of us had some naughty fun together… don’t you?”

Sadie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner here, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night sounds good. But Iet’s make it my place for a change.”

“It’s a date.”

Sadie gave me a dirty grin. “Ask the girls to wear something… pretty,” she said, reaching down to stroke herself between the legs.

I could feel all the pieces falling into place – Me; Millie; Freya; Sadie. This was how the universe wanted things to be. Nature is defined by patterns of chaos – try to establish some semblance of order within that chaos, or simply dive in and see where it takes you. So I took a deep breath… and leapt.

On to Chapter Nine!

Note from JetBoy: As the Head Editing Jockey of this site, one of my favorite duties is introducing new writers to our public… and let’s face it, we’ve hosted the debuts of some great ones. Here’s the first offering from an author who has what I fully expect to be a dazzling future at Juicy Secrets. See if you agree.

 

by C. Cat

“Ms. Collins, do you have a minute?” Caroline Scott, the owner of the ballet school, smiled at Amanda as she gestured toward her office. It seemed that she had some good news to share.

“Sure,” Amanda said, then glanced down at her eleven-year-old daughter Katie. “Get changed and pack up your things while I talk to Ms. Caroline, okay?”

“Okay, Mum,” Katie replied as she darted off, more in a mood to play with her friends than get ready to leave.

As her daughter scampered away, Amanda took a moment to enjoy the sight of a room filled with young girls in leotards and tights. She particularly loved the way those outfits showed the contours of their tight little bottoms, blossoming breasts, and slender legs. She wondered if some of these girls had the same erotic longings for their classmates, teachers, and maybe even their friends’ mothers that she’d felt at their age.

She let her gaze linger as long as she could before Caroline noticed, but as discreet as she tried to be, the ballet instructor recognized the signs. The extra heartbeat that passed before Amanda turned away from the young girls, her brief distracted look, the shake of the head to clear her thoughts, and the lingering trace of a smile all confirmed Caroline’s suspicions. The sight of these underage girls gave Katie’s mother the same erotic thrill that she felt herself. Interesting, she thought.

Caroline was also fairly certain that her Katie was a budding lesbian. It wasn’t as easy to tell with little girls; they were only just starting to sort out their feelings, and to make it even trickier, most females had crushes on other girls at that tender age. Caroline was a careful observer, though, and noticed subtle differences in how Katie acted around pretty girls. The child might not have a clear sense of it yet herself, but the attraction was clearly there.

“Katie is doing very well in class,” Caroline began. “In fact, an opportunity has come up that I’d like to recommend to her – if you agree, of course. Have you heard of Latchmore House?”

Amanda broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, absolutely! Katie and I love to go there.”

Latchmore House was an old Victorian estate just outside the city, a popular tourist destination known for its spectacular gardens. An heiress named Anna Latchmore had founded it over a hundred years earlier with the intention of creating a magical place for children to explore and learn, particularly young girls. To this day, many believe it was his acquaintance with Anna and a visit to Latchmore that inspired J.M. Barrie to create the character of Peter Pan. Some even say that the tradition of Peter being played by a girl onstage began as his tribute to Anna.

Anna’s daughter Charlotte inherited the property along with her father’s business interests while still a young girl. She never married or had children of her own, which led to speculation about her sexuality, but those sorts of rumours have always followed independent and successful women. What is clear is that, soon after Anna’s death, Charlotte Latchmore took on her mother’s vision with every bit as much dedication as she applied to her father’s business.

She was highly successful at both and, by the time she passed away in the early Eighties, had amassed a considerable fortune, expanded the gardens, and endowed a private girls’ school. Almost the entirety of the Latchmore estate went to a foundation that would ensure her mother’s dream would endure.

“Well, then,” Caroline continued, “You must have encountered the Latchmore Fairies.”

“Oh, yes. Katie adores them,” Amanda said, neglecting to mention that she was quite taken with them herself.

Something that made the gardens particularly magical was the chance that you might catch a glimpse of beautiful girls with diaphanous fairy wings, dancing and playing in the gardens. Some lucky little girls were even approached by the fairies, who would invite them to play. Even when girls grew out of believing in Santa of the Easter Bunny, many would still cling to their belief in the Latchmore Fairies, especially after seeing them in person.

Over the years, the fairies became a large part of the garden’s mythology. Even when none were seen, a little girl might walk by a patch of flowers and spot a little gift left behind, wrapped in a leaf or flower petals. Inside, there would be something like a polished stone, a pretty little acorn, a pebble of coloured glass, or an exquisitely shaped bit of wood, always accompanied by a cryptic note from the fairies — something of a cross between a fortune cookie and a horoscope — that, according to the legend, had a special meaning for the girl who found it.

These things and more made Latchmore House a rite of passage for young girls. All were welcome, too, no matter their place in the world. Anna refused to charge admission, determined that no child would miss the chance to visit the gardens just because their family was poor. A generous portion of her estate was set aside to assure that this would always be the case.

“I don’t know how much you know about the fairies,” Caroline went on. “They’re all part of a society at the foundation’s school — more like a sorority, really. As a former fairy myself, I’m able to nominate someone for a scholarship, and I think Katie is just the type of girl they’re looking for. Do you think she’d be interested in attending the school… and perhaps, one day, becoming a fairy?”

“I… I think she’d say it was a dream come true,” a dazed Amanda replied.

A scholarship to a top private school, along with the possibility of her daughter becoming a Latchmore Fairy? What a marvellous opportunity, Amanda thought. Katie will be over the moon!

Amanda was also feeling a different kind of thrill, one she kept to herself. She pictured a younger Caroline capering about the forest, scantily clad in a little fairy outfit. It was a powerfully erotic image, one that gave her butterflies in the tummy.

Ever the careful observer, Caroline noted a new glint in Amanda’s eyes as they chatted about Latchmore, especially when she mentioned having been a fairy herself. This only served to confirm her suspicions about the woman’s sexual tastes. Oh, yes, Katie’s mother is absolutely into young girls, she decided.

“Well then, I’ll go ahead and forward my recommendation…” Caroline hesitated for a moment. “And if you have questions about the school – or anything else, really,” she added with an inviting smile, “I’d love to have a drink with you sometime…”

Amanda hadn’t dated since Katie was born, but she wasn’t so oblivious as to miss the dance instructor’s meaning. She’d been thinking it might be time to pursue a relationship again, and Caroline had been in her thoughts more than a few times in that regard. She was a few years older, maybe in her late thirties, with a fit and petite body that would be the envy of many younger women, and an air of confidence and grace that Amanda couldn’t get enough of. If there was anything that excited her as much as pretty little girls, it was strong, beautiful women.

Trying not to seem too eager, Amanda nodded. “I’d really like that. I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about… and honestly, it’s been much too long since I had some girl time.”

It also occurred to her that if she was planning to date other women – especially if one of them was Katie’s teacher – she needed to sit down with her daughter sometime soon and tell the girl that she was a lesbian.

Caroline gave Amanda a dazzling smile. “Well, then, I’ll call you sometime and we can set a date.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

***

That night, as her fingers slipped between her legs, Amanda was still thinking about Caroline. In the past, she’d fantasised about being one of the woman’s students, having the ballet teacher touch her body as she helped her into different positions. Now though, her thoughts drifted to Caroline as a little schoolgirl, dressed in her fairy outfit. Could I have seen her there when I was younger?

Maybe she was there that time Aunt Eileen took me to Latchmore. God, I still remember that day and how utterly wonderful it was, thanks to that one special fairy…

That particular outing had been one of the defining moments of Amanda’s life. Whenever Latchmore crossed her mind, she wondered if that was what fairy stories meant when they told of doors to other worlds.

It was just after her ninth birthday, the day Aunt Eileen took Amanda to a special party at the estate. At her first sight of the fairies, she was instantly smitten. They had to be the most beautiful girls in the whole wide world, she decided, unable to keep herself from staring at them. The day got even better, though, when one of the girls — a fairy named Emily — picked her to dance.

Her joy was boundless as she capered and pranced with Emily, convinced that this particular angel was the loveliest of them all. Just holding hands with her made Amanda tingle from head to toe.

Once they were giddy and out of breath, Emily spirited her away to a small private alcove with a statue of what looked like a Greek goddess dancing with a fairy. They seated themselves side by side, and Emily began to tell a story.

Amanda didn’t remember much of the tale at the time, but later learned that it was about the goddess Hebe and a nymph creating ambrosia, a special nectar that brought eternal youth to the drinker. She did her best to pay attention to the story, but being in the presence of such a pretty girl was simply too distracting. Just the sweet scent of her fairy friend made Amanda light-headed.

As Emily spoke, Amanda’s eyes were drawn to the girl’s long, slim legs. They looked so smooth and soft that she found herself longing to touch them. Then Emily shifted slightly, and Amanda gasped.

Pausing in the telling of her story, Emily smiled. “What’s the matter, my sweet?”

“You – you’re not wearing panties!” Amanda exclaimed, then instantly blushed, embarrassed to have said that out loud.

For a moment she was afraid Emily would be upset, possibly even run away. In fact, she didn’t seem to mind at all. The fairy smiled sweetly and put a finger to Amanda’s mouth in a shushing gesture.

“Let’s keep that our little secret,” she said.

Making no effort to cover herself, Emily then spread her legs even wider. That gave Amanda a perfect view that no one else could see. Her heart raced as she drank in the sight of the girl’s bare sex – the first she’d ever seen, besides hers.

“Do you like looking at me?” Emily asked.

“Uh-huh,” Amanda replied, enthralled by the little girl’s nakedness. Shy as she was, she managed to add, “You’re very p-pretty.”

“You’re a very pretty girl too… and I bet your kitty is even nicer than mine,” Emily spoke in a huskier voice, slipping a hand between her legs. As her new friend watched, she explored the cleft of her sex with two fingers. “I like to touch mine sometimes, especially right here on my clitty.” She glanced up. “Do you do that, too?”

She’d never admitted it to anyone before, but Amanda couldn’t bring herself to tell Emily a lie. Slowly nodding, she whispered, “It feels good.”

Emily giggled. “It does, doesn’t it? Tell me, do you know what an orgasm is?”

Amanda shook her head. She couldn’t remember ever having heard the word.

Emily’s smile seemed to get brighter. “Tonight, when you go to bed, I want you to take your panties off, then  touch your kitty just like this.” She let her fingers trace long strokes up her slit, pausing each time to make little circles around her clitoris. “If you close your eyes and think of me while you do this, you’ll get a special surprise. Will you do that for me?”

Amanda nodded again, but her eyes remained locked on what her fairy friend was doing.

Emily slowly trailed the tips of her fingers up and down the outside of her vagina, just lightly touching herself. Soon, though, she pressed her fingers between the engorged labia and began to stroke the pink interior with a slow, steady rhythm. Very soon, her sex was glistening with wetness.

Amanda trembled as she watched Emily slide a finger inside her kitty. First up to one knuckle, then another, then all the way inside. She’d always been afraid to put anything into herself like that, but it was obvious that the girl absolutely loved it.

Emily was breathing hard and fast, then a low moan escaped her lips before she gasped, “Yes… oh, fuck, yes! Watch me, Amanda. Watch me f-fuck myself”

Shocked to hear her fairy use that word, it suddenly occurred to Amanda that this was the kind of thing that got girls in trouble, big trouble. It made her nervous, but not nearly enough to frighten her away. Instead, she squeezed her thighs together as her own panties began to moisten. She was too shy to touch herself down there, the way Emily was, but she really wanted to. Even if it was wicked.

Now Emily was moving faster, pumping two fingers deep inside her hole, making sticky wet noises with each stroke. While one hand worked her opening the other was rubbing her clit.

“Uhhh, yes! Fuck, YES!” was all Emily could get out before her breath grew too ragged to speak. The only sounds the girl could make were tiny cries of joy. Her feelings of pleasure seemed to grow more and more intense, then with one last cry of “Yes!” Emily’s body went totally rigid for a few heartbeats, then started to shiver violently.

After what seemed like a long time, Emily relaxed, took a long, deep breath, then let it out in a satisfied sigh. Amanda had never seen anything like it before. Was that an orgasm? she wondered.

Emily sat quietly for a little while, regaining her breath, but she didn’t move to cover herself. Instead, she took those now wet, sticky fingers from between her legs and put them in her mouth, purring with pleasure as she sucked them clean.

What’s that taste like? Amanda wondered. Looks like Emily really enjoys it…

As if reading her mind, Emily looked up at Amanda, then down at her kitty, then back up at Amanda. She spread her thighs even further apart, causing her slit to open slightly.

“It tastes lovely, you know,” Emily murmured. “Would you like to try it? Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Amanda nervously moistened her lips as she realised what the fairy was inviting her to do: touch the private bits of another girl. She loved the idea – yet it also frightened her. She felt a sudden impulse to run away, but forced herself to remain right where she was. Even at her tender age, Amanda knew that if she passed this chance by, it would be to her lifelong regret.

Go ahead, touch her there. She wants you to. 

Still struggling with her shyness, Amanda hesitantly reached out until she found the wet warmth of Emily’s sex, then let two fingers explore, coating them with the older girl’s creamy honey. She brought them to her mouth and took a cautious lick, then took each finger into her mouth to suck, just like Emily had done.

She’d never tasted anything like it before – not exactly sweet, but there was something about the flavour that she liked quite a lot. Would Emily let me have some more? Amanda wondered.

But before she could bring herself to ask, a bell rang somewhere.

Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, dearest… but it’s time for us to go back.” She rose to her feet, straightened her skirt, then took Amanda by the hand.

Their hands remained clasped as the girls made their way back to the park entrance, where Amanda’s aunt Eileen was seated, patiently waiting for her niece.

Goodbyes were exchanged, then when the fairy was hugging Amanda, she whispered in the younger girl’s ear, “Don’t forget about touching yourself tonight. I’ll be thinking about you and doing the same thing.” With that, Emily gave her new friend a warm kiss on the cheek.

Eileen watched the girls embrace, feeling enormously pleased at how the day had turned out. She knew without having to ask that this had been a wondrous experience for Amanda, perhaps even as lovely as her own trip to Latchmore as a little girl.

As for Amanda, it no longer mattered to her whether Emily was a real fairy or not. What counted for much more was the new kind of magic the girl had taught her. All the way home, the nine-year-old was focussed on remembering how to touch her kitty that special way, eager for the surprise Emily had promised her.

I mustn’t tell anyone about this, even Mum, she told herself. It’s bad luck to give away fairy secrets.

***

Later that night, while Aunt Eileen and her mum were downstairs talking, Amanda crawled into bed and slid her panties down, then decided to take them off completely, along with her nightie. She’d never slept naked before, and the naughtiness of it thrilled her.

Amanda pictured Emily, her fairy, with her beautiful face, flowing auburn hair, and slender body sitting beside her on the bed. She tried to imagine Emily reaching out to take her hand, their fingers intertwining, and offer to show her just where to touch. She could almost hear the fairy’s soft voice saying, You’re such a sweet little girl, Amanda, and so pretty… I’d love to help you get your surprise.

Spreading her legs, she felt Emily guide her hand as she began to touch herself. She was gentle at first, almost tickling. Her fingers slid across her tummy, down her legs, then with long strokes up and down her inner thighs until those lovely butterfly feelings started, only stronger this time.

From there, Amanda moved to the outside of her kitty – touching lightly, then doing it a little bit harder. She remembered touching Emily, how soft and nice the girl felt down there. Would Emily like to touch me that way? she wondered.

As she caressed herself, Amanda quickly noticed how tiny differences in pressure or the rhythm of her strokes completely changed how it felt. She experimented with touch, working to learn what she liked best.

Letting a finger slide between her lips, she trailed it down to her little hole. Even if it wasn’t as wet and juicy as Emily’s, her kitty was moist enough to make the task an easy one. It’s working so far, she thought.

Once her fingers were coated with juices, she brought them to her lips, sampling the thick, rich flavour. The taste wasn’t exactly like Emily’s, but she liked it every bit as much.

Reaching back between her legs, Amanda circled her opening for a few moments, then carefully eased a finger inside the warmth of her vagina. She didn’t feel ready to add another, not just yet. She withdrew her finger almost completely but for the tip, then slid it back in, penetrating herself with a slow, steady stroke. It felt good, a rippling surge of pleasure that awakened in her tummy, then flowed outward.

Bringing the other hand into play, she coated those fingers in her fluids, then began to explore her vulva – first around the hole, gradually moving higher. She’d always avoided contact with what Emily referred to as her clitty. The few times she brushed against that bit, it gave her something similar to an electric shock. It wasn’t as bad as getting shocked for real, like that time she was playing with her daddy’s reading lamp,  but the intensity of it had always unnerved Amanda.

This time, though, she was determined to feel all of it, no matter what. It’s my fairy surprise, she reminded herself. Emily wouldn’t ask me to do anything that hurts. 

Bracing herself, she let her fingers wander a little higher, almost yanking her hand away when she felt the first jolt. She managed not to, though. Okay, it’s still kind of scary, but Emily would want me to be brave, right? Besides, it’s more like a nice feeling, just really, really strong.

Amanda gave her clitoris a tiny flick, her eyes going wide at how amazing it felt. The lightest of caresses was enough to make her whole body quiver. She experimented with different kinds of touch, soon figuring out that what she liked best was to press down on the tiny bump and rub it in little circles.

She pictured Emily touching her this way and, with that beautiful image in her mind, a surge of pleasure rolled through her body. She nearly cried out loud, but just barely managed to stifle it in time. She was on the edge of something amazing and knew it was her surprise.

It wasn’t scary anymore. Amanda wanted it now, more than ever. She just had to keep rubbing herself in the right place. A few more strokes of her fingers were all it took, then it happened. Her body convulsed with wave after wave of pure ecstasy, the entire universe collapsing into this one bright moment. Was this really happening, or was lost in some beautiful dream?

Eventually, she could breathe again. Her sex was still pulsing, but too sensitive to touch, so she settled for gently resting both hands on her vulva. A great sense of peace filled the girl – in fact, Amanda couldn’t recall ever being so relaxed in her life, so perfectly at home in her own body.

Amanda was proud of what she’d done, and hoped that somehow Emily knew how wonderful the fairy’s gift had been for her. She was going to touch herself tonight and think about me, she remembered. Wish we could’ve done it together.

She lay quietly for a long while, then finally opened her eyes. Amanda yelped at what she saw, her thin frame jerking violently.

Aunt Eileen was standing next to her bed in powder-blue pyjamas, gazing down at her niece. And there Amanda was, spread out on the bed completely naked, touching her kitty with both hands.

She knew she was in trouble. Covering herself as best she could, she sat up, tears welling in her eyes. “I – I’m so s-sorry,” Amanda stammered. “Please don’t tell Mummy!”

Seating herself on the edge of the bed, Eileen drew her niece into a comforting embrace. “Don’t worry, little one,” she murmured. “It’s okay. This can be our secret if you want, but you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“You… you’re not mad?”

Eileen smiled. “Not at all, love. In fact, I’m happy for you… it means you’re becoming a woman.”

“Really?” She nestled deeper into her aunt’s arms, resting her cheek against the woman’s generous breast. Her tears were forgotten, swallowed up by the love she felt.

“Of course, little one. We all touch ourselves, you know. Perhaps it was wrong for me to have watched, but it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She gave the girl a little tickle under her chin. “Was that your first orgasm?”

Now that she knew what the word meant, Amanda felt a renewed sense of pride. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you enjoy it, then?”

“Oh, sooooo much!” Amanda squealed. “It was the, the best thing ever!”

Eileen nodded, tenderly stroking her niece’s bare back. “You’re a very lucky girl, Manda. I had to wait a lot longer for my first orgasm.”

“So you do it too, huh?”

“Almost every night,” Aunt Eileen said, then whispered, “All big girls do. Even your mum.”

“Mummy does?” Amanda giggled to hear that secret. She loved the idea of it – her mother and her aunt, pleasuring themselves just as she had. “So… are they always that good?”

“Orgasms are almost always good…” Still cradling the nude little girl in her arms, she gave Amanda a playful kiss on the nose. “But with a little practice, you can make them amazing.”

Amanda hugged her aunt tightly. It felt so good to hold her. Auntie Eileen’s body was different from that of Emily, but she loved it. Warm and soft in all the right places and as comfy as her old teddy bear, and warmer, nicer smelling. And she had lovely titties, the biggest the nine-year-old had ever seen. Even before she reached puberty, Amanda had dreamed of having breasts like Eileen’s when she grew up.

As she snuggled with her aunt, that tingling feeling began to make itself known again. That’s when Amanda got a very interesting idea…

“I don’t mind you watching me,” Amanda said. “Did you really think it was beautiful?”

Gazing into the little girl’s eyes, Eileen murmured, “I think you are beautiful, sweetie.”

“Auntie?” Amanda said, suddenly looking away. She could feel herself blush. “Can I ask you to, um, do something for me?”

“You can ask me anything, love.” Eileen’s hands were resting on Amanda’s hips.

“Could I m-maybe watch you touch yourself sometime? So I can, um, learn how to do it better? I mean… Well, you got to watch me, right?”

The woman gave a thoughtful nod. “You know, that does seem fair.” Bending down, she gave the girl a kiss.

Amanda’s heart began to throb when the kiss lingered, Aunt Eileen’s mouth soft as a whisper against hers. Then the woman’s lips parted, and those tender kisses began to travel – touching the corner of Amanda’s mouth, her lower lip, then dipping down to caress her chin.

Lost in this impossibly sweet kiss, the child failed to notice right away that Aunt Eileen’s hands had slipped down to cradle her bare bottom, but she reacted with an astonished cry when the older woman fondled her there, fingertips edging teasingly close to the cleft of her bum.

Amanda had no idea why her own aunt was kissing and touching her that way, but she loved it too much to care. Somehow, it seemed as if she’d always wanted something like this without even knowing. It felt so good, so right.

Now Auntie Eileen’s mouth had returned to hers, only this time her tongue had emerged to play. Amanda gasped in awe, her lips parting – and that soft, sweet tongue dipped into the girl’s mouth for an instant.

What’s happening? Amanda asked herself, dizzy with excitement. She didn’t know, but it was wonderful, even more than the delights she’d sampled with her fairy. Suddenly, she imagined kissing Emily this way, and a rush of warmth surged through her slender frame.

That chain of thought was interrupted when her aunt broke away to smile down at her niece. Amanda gaped back – unable to summon up words, much less voice them.

“So, little one… you’ve learned how to give yourself pleasure,” Eileen began. “Now, you need to know how to share pleasure… to experience those good feelings with someone else.”

That delicious warmth in Amanda’s tummy had returned, even stronger this time – as if the orgasm she’d given herself moments ago had never happened. “S-someone else…?” she whispered.

Her aunt nodded. “Like that adorable little fairy you were with today… what was her name?”

“Um, Emily.”

“Emily, that’s right. Imagine her making love to you – touching your body, kissing your pretty mouth… wouldn’t you like to know how to give her those same nice feelings?”

Lost in her aunt’s warm, friendly eyes, Amanda only knew one possible answer. “Yes,” she answered, “yes, I do!”

That smile again. “I can teach you, love,” Eileen murmured. “If you want me to.”

Amanda began to nod before the woman had finished speaking. “Yes, auntie, please!” the nine-year-old blurted. “Teach me everything. I – I want to know!”

Without another word, Eileen gently untangled herself from their embrace. She rose to her feet, then began to unbutton her pyjama top.

As she watched her aunt undress, Amanda’s hand found its way between her thighs, though she wasn’t conscious of it at first. Her sex was pulsing with need, and she applied pressure there with three fingers. A shaky sigh escaped the girl’s lips when Eileen slipped out of the top, baring her breasts.

Letting the garment fall to the carpet, Amanda’s aunt reached for the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. She pushed them over her shapely hips, then they slid down to ring her ankles. She wore no panties, and her pubic thatch was thick and full.

Amanda was now masturbating, thighs closed around her busy fingers.

Eileen stepped out of the bottoms, then did a slow pirouette, putting herself on display for her niece. She drew closer to the bed, pausing to observe Amanda’s excitement.

“Got room in there for me?” she said, casually rolling a nipple between finger and thumb.

Seizing the top edge of the quilt, Amanda wriggled underneath while scooting over to the left side of the bed. Once in place, the grinning girl held the heavy blanket up in open invitation. “Lots of room!” she said.

“Why, thank you, love,” Eileen murmured, climbing inside. She took the naked little girl into her arms, and they nestled together.

“I love you, Auntie Eileen,” Amanda breathed.

“I love you, little one,” Eileen replied. “And I’m going to show you how much.” Lightly tracing the child’s lips with a finger, she moved in to claim Amanda’s mouth in a kiss.

On to Chapter Two!

Go here for a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” To get a thumbnail summary of the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

There we were, a party gathering of girls and women – all of us gay, all completely naked, unwinding after an afternoon of non-stop sex by watching lesbian porn. Reading those words now, I guess the whole situation seems kind of funny, but at the time it was quite exciting. I’d already seen everyone in the room having sex, even if I hadn’t yet fucked them all myself… but somehow, I’d not gotten around to investigating porn yet.

Mom, the other grownups and Henri were occupying the two sofas, while the rest of us were seated or sprawled out on the carpet, mostly using these big, colourful cushions that were strewn about. The young ones sat cross-legged in front of the TV as if they were about to watch a Disney movie.

Of course, what we got was anything but family entertainment. When the opening credits of the film rolled along with footage of a gorgeous naked girl fingering herself I got butterflies in my tummy,  and my pussy started to throb.

The film was called The Rendezvous. The plot barely existed, but it was about a bunch of insanely sexy married women who carried out lesbian relationships in secret. They were sneaking out without their husbands – in one case, parents – intent on meeting up with their female lovers. There was six of these women, and I’d have happily fucked any or all of them.

I shifted about and got more comfortable by leaning back against the front of the sofa, between Mum’s spread legs, where I immediately began to play with myself. Some of the others had already started, including Kiki, who slipped down from her place on the couch to sit next to me. She was using her right hand to masturbate and, without looking away from the screen, casually reached over with her left to play with my pussy. Even left-handed, Kiki knew how to make me feel incredible.

The movie settled into a pattern or sorts where two of the ladies would get together, undress and then fuck. I don’t know if Mum’s mention of sex toys earlier was a coincidence or if she did it deliberately, but there were a few shocked looks from me, Mia, Lilly and Evie when this sexy brunette with an impressive set of boobs took out a huge dildo when she was with a blonde teenage girl.

“Oh, wow… is she going to put that inside her?” asked Lilly.

“Yes, sweetie,” Mum replied.

I was amazed, thinking there was no way that slip of a girl could take something so big into her vagina. Any other time I’d have thought Mum was joking, but she never jokes about sex stuff like that.

Sure enough, the massive dildo went pretty much all the way inside the girl. And the brunette woman didn’t go easy either. Oh, she took it easy going in, but then she was plunging it in and out really hard and fast. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. The blonde girl looked like she was loving it, too – she was screaming, “Oh God, yes! Fuck me, fuck me!” as she came. I had an orgasm soon after that. It was so intense that I accidentally kicked Henri who was lying in front of me, lost in her own ecstasy.

As the film continued, it got into sex toys in a big way, different types of dildos and vibrators used in various combinations between the lesbian lovers. I was particularly interested in the double ended dildo, because you could rub pussies while you were fucking. I was picturing using one of those with Mia when I came for the second time.

Joining Mum on the sofa, I asked her loads of questions about the film, and she answered them all as best she could. I was disappointed to learn that the women weren’t real-life lovers, but professional actresses who in all likelihood just met that day and were faking orgasms for the camera. Mum said she would seek out some real-life lesbian stuff on the internet for me, but that I wasn’t to look myself as there were lots of things there that I wouldn’t want to see. I knew she meant naked men, penises and such. She was right, I didn’t want to see any of that, just the nice girly stuff.

Mum told me that some dildos are made to look like real cocks and some aren‘t. Most men are nowhere near as big as the dildos in the films, she explained. Apparently a few really are that big, but it’s rare. It didn’t matter to me – I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in real penises, large or small.

As for using a dildo myself, I decided that I had to think about that. I mean, it looked like a man’s willy… but it’s not part of a real man, just plastic. I pondered the idea. If I put a fake penis inside me, does that mean I’m not really a lesbian? I knew Mum would say it didn’t matter, I should do what I want. Still, it was the first thing I’d come across involving sex that made me stop and think. Until then, I’d happily thrown myself headfirst into every new opportunity that arose, but my gay identity meant so much to me that I didn’t want to do anything that might compromise it.

I was also curious as to whether a dildo could actually fit inside my vagina. Obviously, I couldn’t take one the size of that monster the blonde teen in the film had been fucked by, but Mum assured me that sex toys came in all kind of lengths and thicknesses. “We’ll shop online and find something that’s just right for a girl your age,” she told me.

When Lilly heard that, she broke away from kissing Evie and gave Mum her best puppy-dog gaze. “What about me, Mum? Can I have a sex toy, too?”

Everyone laughed, and my sister blushed a little, but Mum said, “Of course, sweetie.”

“Cool!” Lilly squealed, then went right back to kissing Evie. Funny thing – the two littlest girls at the party were the ones who seemed the least interested in the porn film. I guess that to them, sex itself was still such a magical, wondrous thing that you didn’t need to watch two strangers doing it on a TV screen.

I was beginning to feel the same way, actually. The women on the TV were sexy and I was learning a lot from watching them, but my attention was getting drawn back into the room. There was already kissing and touching going on, and I could feel the sexual tension going up a notch. It was clear that the lovemaking on the screen was putting us in the mood for more than just masturbating.

The little ones were cuddling when Mum caught Evie’s eye. She patted her lap with both hands, then Evie eagerly hopped up and crawled into my mother’s waiting arms. When Kiki saw that, she crooked a finger at Lilly, who climbed right into her lap. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think they’d had sex yet. I’d no doubt that Kiki was about to put that right, though.

Having Evie next to me on Mum’s lap was the perfect opportunity for me to make love to this adorable girl of seven for the first time. After that, the only person in the room I’d not fucked yet was Beth. Not that I was keeping track or anything, but I hoped to have it off with every female there at least once before turning in for the evening.

Evie may have been a child, but she was no fool. She knew what Mum wanted, and had both legs spread wide apart, putting her pussy on full display. Licking her fingers, Mum gently teased Evie’s nipples, making her wriggle about and squeal with delight.

I had to be part of this. First I gave Mum a deep, passionate kiss, then did the same to Evie, seeking out her tongue with mine. It was incredible. From the first time I’d made out with my younger sister, I knew that kissing little girls was the absolute best, and Evie was even better at it than Lilly.

Finally breaking away, I started touching Evie, stroking her legs and tummy. When I got a bit lower down, I paused in mid-caress. “Um, Evie… is it okay if I touch your pussy?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, giving me an angelic smile.

I looked across the room to Nicole, and when her eyes met mine I mouthed the words, ‘Is this okay?’ and placed my hand on Evie’s mound. She replied with a nod and a wink.

“Well done, sweetie,” Mum said.

The cleft of Evie’s slit was warm, moist and silky smooth. She was leaning back into Mum, half in a daze as I fondled her. I wanted to do more than touch, though.

Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, I whispered, “Um, Evie, would it be okay if I licked your pussy? I’d like to make you come.”

Evie gave me a happy smile. “Yes, please! I love being licked. Lilly is ‘specially good at it.”

It made me feel warm inside, knowing she and Lilly were so into each other. How many girls were lucky enough to have an honest-to-goodness lover at the age of seven?

Mum shifted about a little bit, giving me easy access to Evie’s cunt. I intended to be down there for some time, so I grabbed a cushion and slipped it under my knees.

The sight of that bare pink pussy and its heady scent made my mouth water, but just as I was about to lean in and take that first lick. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked around to see Beth sitting next to me. “Hey, Poppy, can I lay my head down here?” she said, patting the cushion I’d just put on the floor.

I was confused. What was she asking for? “Um…”

I guess Beth could see I was a bit confused. She quickly added, “You know, so I can lick your pussy while you’re, um, doing it to Evie.”

“Oh, sure! Sorry, I’m with you now. Um, yeah, I’d love to sit on your face!”

Beth quickly arranged herself on the cushion, getting ready to taste me. So that was that. I hadn’t even kissed the girl, and there I was looking down at those gorgeous green eyes and that pretty red hair. She smiled sweetly as I lowered myself to her open mouth, then went to work on me with an eager tongue.

In the meantime, Mum had placed Evie perfectly so the girl’s vagina was positioned just above hers. I hadn’t realised I’d be able to reach both so easily. Two sweet lovers for me to kiss and lick – what fun!

When I first began to have sex with my sister Lilly, Mum told me to be extra careful fingering her because she was so young. I assumed the same advice applied to Evie, so I just teased the entrance of her hole with my tongue and fingers, concentrating on her clit. But I could finger fuck Mum as hard and deep as I liked. What a wonderful experience that was – pleasing my mother and a little girl at the same time, all the while having my own cunt seen to by a dead sexy twelve-year-old. I felt like the Queen of All Lesbians.

Beth certainly knew what she was doing down there… of course, she’d eaten pussy many times before. She attacked my clit with her tongue, keeping a constant, unrelenting rhythm going that seemed to beat in my head like a dance record. It wasn’t easy, but I tried to focus my attention on Evie, who was sharing a deep tongue kiss with Mum. That got me especially hot, watching my mother make love to a little girl.

I continued to go down on Evie and Mum – switching from one pussy to the other, pleasuring them with my fingers or my mouth. Before very long, Evie came. She was panting and moaning, her body shivering as if she was having some kind of fit. It was something to see.

I got her off just in time, too, because Beth’s efforts between my legs were doing my head in. I couldn’t keep licking anymore, could barely think. Resting my cheek on Evie’s tummy, I gasped my way through a real wall-shaker of an orgasm. I was grinding down hard on Beth’s face, sweating so much that I had to have been dripping all over Evie. She didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, she was cradling my head in her little arms, whispering sweet things like, “You’re so nice, so pretty. I love you, Poppy…”

Luckily, Beth stopped fucking me before I went stark raving mental, though it was a close thing. Once she’d withdrawn and I got my breath back, I glanced over my shoulder and realised that Kiki was behind Beth, licking her bumhole. Lilly was stretched out on the carpet with Kiki straddling her face.

The others weren’t idle either. Henri, Mia, Lottie, Nicole and Emma were all down on the floor having an orgy of their own. Emma seemed to be in the middle of what was a sweaty tangle of bodies, each participant licking, kissing, stroking and clawing at whatever available body part they could reach.

Looking up from Beth’s arse, Kiki twisted round for a look at the action, then turned back to us with a big smile. “Well, ladies,” she said, “why don’t we turn these two little sex parties into a big one?”

Everyone liked this idea, so we moved to join the others on the floor. I went for the nearest pussy at hand, which was Lottie’s. She had Mia riding her face and Henri was sort of lying on her, so there was no way she could know it was me down there. As I got to work on Lottie, someone’s tongue appeared between my legs. I could have moved to see who it was, but I liked not knowing – it felt naughtier that way.

The all-out sexfest of four mums, two teens and five little girls went on for a long while. Every now and then I’d take a break and catch my breath before diving back in. Others did the same, and odd little conversations broke out here and there. In one such break, I was talking to Henri while everyone else was fucking in front of us.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked. She was seated, and I was lying with my head in her lap.

“You know you can ask me anything you want, love.”

“Do you use sex toys?”

“Oh, of course.”

“Which ones?”

“Depends on my mood. For the most part, I prefer fingers and tongues, that’s so much more intimate. I’ve got a little bullet vibrator that’s a lot of fun. It’s waterproof, so I can use it in the shower.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, so Henri told me what a bullet vibrator was and how it worked.

I wanted to know more, though. “Do you ever use dildos?”

“Yeah, occasionally.”

“What, the really big ones?”

“Well, I’ve tried the bigger ones… but honestly, I prefer something smaller. Rabbits are a lot of fun. If your mum lets you pick out a toy for yourself, that’s the one you should go for.” Another explanation followed, this time about rabbit vibrators and how they worked.

I was still thinking about how it would be to get penetrated for real, though. “Do you think I might be able to use a dildo?”

Henri clucked her tongue. “Poppy, you really need to ask your mum about that.”

“Oh, I’ve spoken to Mum… she said we’d talk about it at the right time. I was just curious if you thought one would actually, you know, fit inside me.”

“You’re very young, Poppy, maybe too young. Fingers and tongues are fine, but you should be careful – the bigger stuff might injure you. But, if your mum is there and you go slow, you could take something small and see how it feels, then work your way up.”

At that point Evie caught my eye, having just returned from a quick trip to the loo. Now that she was back, Henri and I got her down on the floor and we rejoined the orgy. I positioned Evie so that I could get my mouth on her cunt, then thrust my bum out, giving Henri access to both my holes.

When I ran my tongue along Evie’s slit I could taste where the little girl hadn’t wiped herself properly. Far from being disgusted, I thought of Kiki and how much she would have enjoyed it. I can’t say it gave me a massive craving to have someone pee in my mouth, the way Kiki sometimes did – but it didn’t completely turn me off, either.

After I made Evie come, she and Lilly were both utterly knackered. Lilly climbed onto the sofa, Evie joined her, and they nestled together, soon falling asleep. Mum and Nicole carried the girls to the spare room and tucked them in, then our little sex party got cracking again.

However, the intensity had diminished somewhat – it became more loving, less frenzied. More people were resting and snacking than actually fucking, and before long we settled down into groups and pairs that were cuddled up together. It wasn’t cold at all, mind you – for such a big space, Kiki’s living room was very nicely heated, especially with the fire blazing nearby. Still, to make us feel even cosier Kiki opened this big storage ottoman, took out a bunch of super soft fluffy blankets and passed them round. She put on some soft music called bossa nova that I liked a lot, then offered to make everyone hot chocolate, but we all insisted she sit down and relax with us.

We were all in a delightfully mellow mood, our minds and bodies warmed by the afterglow of all the yummy orgasms we’d shared. I was nestled under a blanket with Mia, telling her about Kiki and how much she enjoyed watersports. Mia had never done anything like that, but didn’t think it was at all odd.

“Do you think your mum has ever tried it?” I asked her. “Or Lottie?”

“Getting peed on? Hmmm… I don’t know. They’ve never told me about anything like that. I can ask, if you like.”

I was just about to reply, but then I heard Kiki say, “Poppy darling, when is your birthday?”

“Next month… the eleventh,” I replied.

Kiki’s eyes widened. “November the eleventh? That’s Remembrance Sunday.”

“Um, what’s that about?” Mia asked. “Something important, but I can’t remember.”

I turned to Mia. “It’s the day they pay tribute, you know, say thanks to the soldiers who fought in the big wars. They lay poppies at memorials and people wear them and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. Mum always buys us poppies that day,” said Mia.

I had to laugh. “When I was little, every time I saw people wearing them, I thought they were doing it for me, ‘cos it was my birthday. I got so upset when Mum told me what they were really for!”

“Aw, that’s cute,” said Nicole.

Mum spoke up. “Poppy was born just before 11 AM and stayed quiet for the three-minute silence, then she started screaming her lungs out! After that, I couldn’t think of a better name to give her.”

“Well, it’s only, let’s see… less than four weeks away,” Kiki said. “Have you got anything planned?”

“We’ve not spoken about it much, have we, sweetie?”

“Not really. I’m not sure what I want to do that day, really.”

“So you’ll be turning eleven, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month… and there are eleven of us here right now. Spooky, huh?” said Lottie.

“Bloody hell… That’s mad, it is!” I exclaimed, perhaps a little carried away.

“The Mad Eleven,” Kiki said. “That’s us, isn’t it? A gang of crazy lesbians.”

“And M-A-D, that stands for mothers and daughters!” Mia exclaimed. She loved to do word puzzles in her spare time, so figuring out something like that was second nature to her.

“Oh bravo, girls! That’s it. Henceforth we shall be known as the MAD Eleven,” said Kiki. “Tomorrow we’ll have a group photo, and I’ll get it framed.”

“Will we be naked in the photo?” I asked.

“No sweetie, we’ll have to wear clothes,” said Mum. “We might end up in a lot of trouble if anyone saw something like that.”

Then Kiki said, “I don’t see why we can’t pose nude, Heather. I’ll print it out myself, and I’ve got a spare frame that’ll be just perfect. I’ll hang it in my bedroom. I can’t imagine anyone I don’t trust ever being invited in there.”

“Well, I’m up for it,” said Emma, “I’ve got two pictures in my bedroom of Beth and me, from when we were naked on the beach in Portugal last year.”

“Oh, hell… why not?” said Mum.

I was thrilled to bits. We were all going to be in a naked photo together! There were a few concerns expressed around the room about wobbly bits and stretch marks, but everyone seemed keen on the idea.

“What’s that up there? Is it a guitar case?” Mia asked Kiki, pointing up to the small mezzanine floor above the kitchen. A set of spiral stairs led up to an open area with a rail for safety. There was a PC up there with a small desk and comfy chair, also a sofa. Henri sometimes went there to play video games, but otherwise they didn’t use that space very much. And yes, tucked away in the corner was a dark shape that looked a lot like a guitar case.

“Yes, it’s an acoustic guitar,” answered Kiki.

Mia seemed very interested. “Do you play, then?”

“No,” Kiki replied with a shake of the head. “I thought Henri might want to learn, but she never took to it.”

“Um… can I have a look at it, please?”

“Of course.” Kiki went upstairs to fetch the case, then brought it down. “Do you play?” she asked, handing the case to Mia.

“Uh-huh,” Mia said calmly as she withdrew the guitar. Resting it on her bare thighs, she plucked at a few strings. Even to my untrained ear, it didn’t sound right. But she fiddled with the little peg things on the end as she kept testing the strings, and it gradually began to sound more like music.

Nicole was smiling from ear to ear, “Mia would never tell you thIs, but she’s very talented; she loves to play and sing. Will you please do a song for us, baby?”

Mia made a face. “Aw, Mum… I’m okay with playing, but don’t ask me to sing.”

“But you’ve got such a lovely voice, and we’re all friends here,” Nicole said.

Mia didn’t respond, just continued to adjust the strings. I knew she had a good voice, because we’d sing along to our favourite songs in my bedroom. I’d not heard her play before, though.

Nicole turned to me, all smiles. “Poppy, maybe if you ask Mia to, she might sing for us.” Mia shot her mum a dirty look when she said that.

On one hand, I didn’t want to embarrass my girlfriend… but on the other hand, I really did want to hear her sing. “Please Mia, for me?” I said. “Just one little song?” I was being as flirty with her as I was able, even fluttering my eyelashes. Unable to remain grumpy, Mia began to giggle in spite of herself.

“Okay, okay, you win,” she finally said. “There is one song I’ve been working on. I’ve never played it to anyone before because, well, erm… anyhow, here it is. It’s dedicated to Poppy.”

“To me?” I wasn’t expecting that.

She smiled, “I know you like the song, too. It’s ‘Chasing Cars’.”

“By Snow Patrol?” Mum asked.

Mia nodded and started playing. She was nude, of course, sitting cross-legged with the fire roaring away behind her and all of us gathered around. I had a front-row seat right in front of her. The guitar looked huge against her thin frame as she deftly plucked away at the strings. I stared at her in awe, surprised by how good Mia was at this – not just passable but really, really good.

I’d heard the song many times before, and like most people had sung along with the chorus without really giving much thought to what the lyrics meant. Now Mia, my love, was singing these beautiful words to me and they took on a new significance. And her voice was positively angelic. My heart was melting fast and I was desperately trying to keep it together, but I knew I’d be crying soon.

Then she sang the second verse, all the while looking at me with her beautiful grey eyes.

I don’t quite know
How to say
How I feel
Those three words
Are said too much
They’re not enough
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Well, that was me gone. The dam burst and I began to cry. Lottie put her arm around me, and when I looked at her she was crying too. We all sang the last chorus together and when it ended Mia put the guitar down and fell into my arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room; all the others were clapping and cheering as we knelt there naked, sobbing into each other’s arms and whispering ‘I love you,’ between gasps of breath.

“That was so beautiful… thank you,” I told her when we’d calmed down a bit.

Mia gave a little shrug. “I already liked the song, but then one day I heard it on the radio and it made me think of you, so I learned it. Gosh, when you started crying, I didn’t think I’d make it to the end!”

“You were so brilliant! I want to hear it again – not now, but another time.” Right after we make love, I was thinking.

“It’s your song… you can hear it whenever you like,” she said, then we kissed.

Mia’s song seemed to put a period on the evening’s festivities. After that, Mum stood up and stretched, then some of the others did the same, gathering up their things. I didn’t feel like moving, so Mia and I curled up under the blanket and proceeded to say ‘I love you’ to each other at least a hundred times.

“Let’s sleep here by the fire tonight,” she told me.

I loved the idea, so we got all the beanbags and cushions and a couple of blankets and made a nice snug little den before the hearth. Lottie and Henri liked the idea, and they nestled together on one of the sofas. I guess Mum was in the mood for more time with the little ones, because she spirited Lilly and Evie off to one of the guest rooms. Kiki chose to spend the night with Beth in the master bedroom, and Emma took Nicole by the hand and led her off to share the bed in Henri’s room. (That’s actually more of a spare room, as Henri mostly sleeps with her mum.)

Mia dozed off fairly quickly, but I laid awake for a few minutes longer, thinking about the wonderful day I’d had. There were so many special memories to savour, but I decided that being sung to by Mia and lying with her by the fire right then was the best part. I’d never felt so loved or in love before.

***

Lilly and Evie woke us up painfully early the next day. When they scampered into the living room shrieking with laughter, Lottie threw a cushion at them and told them, “Bugger off, for fuck’s sake,” then pulled the blanket over herself and Henri. That was a foolhardy move, because the little ones decided to make a game of it. Screaming even louder, they threw the cushion straight back at the older girls, along with a couple of pillows they snatched from the cosy nest Mia and I had built.

It wasn’t long before a pillow fight broke out, which thrilled Lilly and Evie no end… and soon enough, the rest of us were caught up in the skirmish. Turns out it’s awfully thrilling, waking up to a pillow fight with a bunch of beautiful naked girls. Eventually we were all out of breath, so Mia and I crawled back under the blankets, where the little ones joined us, while Henri and Lottie climbed back onto the sofa, where they lay in each other’s arms. We put cartoons on the telly and snuggled until the rest of the house woke up.

Nicole and Emma both had to leave straight after breakfast, so everyone got showered and ready for the nude group photo before we ate. You’d have thought the queen was coming to tea, the way everyone was fussing over their hair and make-up. I was satisfied with a shower and running a brush through my hair.

Once we were ready, Henri set the camera up on her iPhone with a timer. We grouped ourselves by the fireplace, the girls sitting and kneeling in front of the adults and Lottie. We were laughing and giggling, thrilled to be posing naked.

“Gosh, this feels awfully naughty,” said a grinning Kiki, as if she was reading my mind.

Henri hit the timer, then ran back, knelt down and said, “Everyone say ‘PUSSY!’” Which we all did, amidst raucous laughter.

Not satisfied with her first effort, Henri took two more before she got the right shot, with all of us chanting ‘pussy’ each time. When Henri declared the last shot to be satisfactory, we all gathered around the phone to see how we looked. It was a marvellous photo, all those adults and teens and kids, naked and smiling, clearly having a wonderful time.

For safety’s sake we agreed that there should only be one copy of the picture, which Kiki would keep in her home. She would print the photo herself, then delete the image from her daughter’s phone.

“Where will you hang it?” asked Emma.

“In the bedroom, I think – I’m not sure. I’m going to put a little bit underneath that says ‘The MAD Eleven’. If anyone sees it, which they won’t, I’ll just say we’re part of Emma’s naturist club.”

“That would work,” Emma said. “They’ve got nude group portraits on the wall of the clubhouse at the naturist retreat Beth and I go to.”

All too soon, it was time for Emma, Nicole and their daughters to leave. Mum said we were in no rush, though, so we stayed with Kiki and Henri. It felt very weird, half of us naked and the other half fully dressed. Lilly cried when Evie left, which set Mum off, and the rest of us also shed a few tears. Promises were made that the MAD Eleven club would meet again soon.

Once the goodbyes were said and our party reduced to five, we went out to the jacuzzi to relax. Naturally, the chatter was mostly about the previous night and how amazing it had been. There were no complaints, not a single one. We all agreed, the party had been a stonking success.

Kiki turned to me. “So what are we going to do about your birthday, young lady?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“Oh, come now… you ate my cunt half a dozen times last night, and now you’re being bashful? Tell us what you’d like to do, darling. I can see it in your face, you’ve got something of an idea.”

Honestly, I wasn’t being shy – I had no idea what I wanted to do for my birthday. Kiki was being bossy but in a funny way, so I played along, curious as to where this was leading. “Erm, see what in my face?” I said, then fluttered my eyelashes, putting on what I hoped was a sexy pout.

Kiki guffawed with glee. “Ha! There, you see? The sexy wolf in the cute sheep’s clothing. Watch out for that one,” she said to Lilly, then winked. My sister seemed to take her literally and looked my way, her eyes warm with desire.

“My darling Poppy,” Kiki continued, “if you really can’t see the obvious solution, then I’ll point it out. We’ll  have a party here with the MAD Eleven, and have loads of sexy fun spoiling the birthday girl.”

I replied “Okay. First, I’m a complete tosser for not thinking of that myself. Second, OH MY GOD, are you SERIOUS? Yes, absolutely YES!” Then I remembered my manners. “Um… please!” I added with a big cheesy grin.

Kiki chuckled. “Now, that sounds like a vote of confidence. What do you think, Heather?”

“Oh… I suspect Poppy would throttle me if I dared to say no. Seriously though, it’s a great idea. You have to let me pay though. I insist.”

“This should be interesting,” laughed Henri, “but you may as well forget it, Heather. Mum never lets anyone else pay!”

Kiki gave her daughter a sharp look, but didn’t reply. “Heather, I’m not taking your money for a few trifling drinks and some nibbles. Henri and I are delighted that you and your girls are part of our lives. Truth is, if it wasn’t Poppy’s birthday I would have invited the lot of you over anyway. I’m already looking forward to getting our little fuck club together again.”

“She’s got you there, Mum,” I chipped in.

Mum sighed. “I’m not going to win here, am I?” Everyone shook their heads. “Then I’ll concede defeat, but at least let’s call it your birthday present to Poppy, okay?

“Those are acceptable terms, darling,” Kiki said, giving Mum’s thigh a squeeze.

“Can I maybe have my birthday party here?” Lilly asked.

“Oh, honey, it’s a long way off and…” Mum began, but Kiki was having none of it and cut her off.

“Lilly, darling… of course you can have your party here. Have a think about what you’d like, and we’ll throw the best bash you ever saw.” Then she gave my sister a big sloppy kiss.

Lily eagerly responded, her tongue flickering between Kiki’s parted lips. When they finally broke apart, she declared, “I already know what I want.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

Spreading her arms wide, Lily cried, “I want a pussy party!” then burst into giggles.

“HA! Then a pussy party you shall have, my love! Oh, you wonderful child, come here. I have to play with you some more.” Lilly crawled into Kiki’s lap and they cuddled and kissed for a bit. It was very sweet to watch. For a grownup, Kiki is incredibly playful.

“My apologies…” she continued, tickling Lilly’s pussy with two fingers, which made my little sister squeal and giggle. “This little minx is distracting me. Now where were we… ah yes, Poppy’s party. Any ideas on a theme, young lady?”

“Erm, not really. I’ve not had a birthday party since I was very little.”

“How about making it fancy dress?” said Henri.

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Mum.

“Hmmm, interesting. Your young lady likes to be on display, does she not?” said Kiki in that deliciously posh voice of hers.

“Poppy does have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her, yes. So… what did you have in mind?”

Kiki gave me a mischievous look, then told Mum. “I’ll speak to you about this when the birthday girl can’t hear us. Basically, there’s a little prep work you’ll need to do.”

“I’m intrigued,” said Mum.

I spoke up. “Me too! You mean that’s it – I won’t know any more about my birthday until it happens?”

“Yup,” said Kiki, quite smugly.

“Damn. That’s tough!” said Henri with a chuckle.

I slumped back, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. “Ooouugghh… I’m going to die of curiosity before we ever get to my birthday,” I moaned, putting on a big fake pout. The truth was that I didn’t really want to know at all. I adore being surprised.

Then Lilly did the sweetest thing. Getting out of Kiki’s lap, she came over and gave me a big hug and a kiss. “If you don’t know what’s going to happen,” she told me, “then I won’t know either.”

“Aw, yeah. Thanks, sis! We can pester Mum about it together, you and me!”

“YEAH! We can lick her pussy until she screams, and not stop licking till she tells us the secret!” We all burst out laughing when she said that.

Shaking her head, Mum said, “God help me, I’m doomed.” Then everyone laughed again.

It was just one of the great memories I took from that weekend. The five of us started making dirty jokes, coming up with all these hot ways we could drive Mum crazy until she told us what Kiki was planning for my party. Of course, all the chatter about sex started to work its wicked magic on us, and soon we were all in the mood to fuck.

This time, I went straight for my sister. All I’d done with her during the party was swap a few heated kisses, and the time seemed right to make up for that. Hoisting her up onto the edge of the jacuzzi, I burrowed between Lilly’s thighs and started right in, licking her smooth slit.

“Oh, God… I love you, Poppy,” she moaned.

Mum must’ve wanted in on the hot incest action, because I soon heard her behind me, whispering, “Oh, my precious little girls.” Then I felt her touch my pussy.

“Want to fuck, Mum?” Henri said.

“Oh, always, dearest – always,” Kiki replied, then I could hear a bit of splashing as the two lovers came together.

My mother’s finger was buried in my cunt – moving around in little circles, which she knew I loved. Then she pressed her face between the cheeks of my arse and licked my bumhole.

I was working hard to make Lilly come, but I wanted a quick glimpse of what Henri and Kiki were up to, so I replaced my mouth with my fingers for a few seconds, just long enough to see that mother and daughter had climbed out of the large tub and were stretched out on the tiles, grinding their pussies together. I watched them for a few seconds, then got back to going down on Lilly.

Just in time, too – because seconds later, my baby sister cried out, a shudder convulsing her body as she came. I fastened my mouth to Lilly, drinking the nectar from her pretty pink flower.

All of a sudden I felt something inside like a little storm, churned up by Mum’s finger – and just like that, I was caught up in an orgasm of my own. Somehow Mum managed to keep licking my arse, even though I had a hard time keeping still. I finally had to beg her to stop.

My sister and I exchanged knowing looks once we’d broken apart, then without a word, we both attacked Mum. We got her out of the tub and down on the tiles and went to work. Lilly slid her hand into Mum’s cunt and fucked her hard, while I nursed on her clit. I occasionally stole glances at Kiki and Henri, who were now licking each other.

Lilly and I had our mother screaming like she’d gone totally mental. She even fainted for a few seconds, but returned to us before we had the chance to panic. Then the three of us got to watch as Henri, then Kiki got each other off, then shared wet, pussy-flavoured kisses.

It was a full half-hour before any resemblance of normality returned to our little party. Normal, she says. I wonder, is there anyone on the planet who thinks that what we’re doing is normal? Actually, I hope there are lots… because we are the happiest people I know, so we must be doing something right.

***

In the coming days, Lilly began to regret the rash decision she’d made, to be left out of the preparations for my birthday party. She was half-crazed with curiosity and using all sorts of tricks on Mum to find out what was going on, most of them sexual. But Mum stood firm, no matter how mercilessly my sister teased her. “You did a wonderful thing for your sister,” she said, “and I’m going to see that you stick to it.”

Truth be told, Lilly wasn’t very good at teasing. Don’t get me wrong, she knew how to get Mum hot and bothered. It’s just that in the process, she’d become so aroused herself that Mum always got to fuck her anyway. It got to where my sister and my mother were making love nearly every day. Whenever I caught them at it, I’d usually strip off and join in the fun. Needless to say, there was an awful lot of sex taking place in our home.

Me, I didn’t bother Mum about my birthday plans, or what Kiki had in store for the occasion. I knew whatever they came up with would be brilliant, so it suited me just fine to wait for the surprise.

A few days after our big sex party, Henri and I were having lunch together at school. It was Friday, so Mia was in music class. Beth came bouncing over, brimming over with the joys of life. Honestly, if she was any cuter she’d turn into a Disney princess, complete with bluebirds fluttering round her head.

“Well, you look happy,” I said, which had to be the understatement of the year.

Surprised, she glanced at Henri. “Haven’t you told her?”

“Nope, I thought you’d like to,” Henri said, wearing a mysterious smile.

I looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, only the best thing in the whole world!” Beth exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heart. “Kiki’s taking me away for the weekend!”

“Fuck me! Just the two of you?”

“Uh-huh… we leave tonight! She’s picking me up after school and we’re driving to Bath. She’s booked us a hotel suite! Can you believe it?”

Henri was grinning. “It seems that Mother has fallen head over heels for our red-headed angel here. Beth, I’ve stayed in that suite with Mum before. Trust me, you are going to have the best time ever.”

It was easy to tell from Beth’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes that Kiki wasn’t the only one who was in love. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Beth, I’m so pleased for you! Kiki is wonderful, and I can see why you’re so excited. And being whisked away right after school, too! Awesome!”

Henri and I were thrilled for Beth, while she could barely contain herself. We spent the rest of the lunch break trying to calm her down, before some nosy teacher noticed and decided to investigate.

***

The relationships forged between the members of the MAD Eleven were deep and immediate. We felt an affinity with each other, all part of a sisterhood that shared a secret, intimate bond. And even if you were a child like me, it didn’t mean that you were taken less seriously. Sure, the adults looked after the best interests of the youngsters, but we were free to speak our minds and the grownups let us have a voice.

That same Friday night Kiki took Beth off for their romantic weekend, Mum would do something that proved she really did take me seriously… as a daughter and as a lover.

On to Chapter Seventeen!Sweet Poppy, Chapter 17

by Kinkys_sis

I’d always known I was only attracted to girls, but never understood why. I knew it wasn’t normal, and that made me strange, peculiar, different. Yet I didn’t seem so different to the rest of my peers.

So why did they chatter all day long about this boy or that boy, while I was busy thinking about how cute other girls were?

I didn’t let that worry me much, although at times it did leave me out of the conversation. They all saw me as being a bit aloof. Little did they know that I had my own thoughts.

It never got me down because I had a lot going for me. I was our school’s boxing champion at fourteen. I was the vice-captain of the under-sixteens soccer team and in the athletics squad.

In short, I was a school hero.

But there was something missing from my life. I desperately wanted a girlfriend, a sexual girlfriend rather than a pal. I already had plenty of female friends.

I spent hours considering, wondering which girl I wanted to make mine. More than that, which girl might be amenable to being seduced. I didn’t find an answer; didn’t even know if there was one.

***

I’d run miles that day, far more than I normally did. Perhaps that’s why I lost concentration – I was simply running on auto-pilot, my mind flitting from one girl to another as I worked on my mental tick list.

Then I was falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep hillside. I remember thinking This is bad before I saw the huge tree ahead of me.

A brief explosion of pain…

My first thought was of the hard, searing agony in my head. Then I felt sick to my stomach and nearly retched, but somehow held it down.

I vaguely heard a voice penetrating the fog that clogged my mind, but couldn’t fathom what it said or where it came from. Then relief — God, it felt good. It was cold, something very cold resting on my forehead. The pain eased a little, the flashes of light faded.

Was I dead? Were the angels talking to me? That was what it sounded like at the time. This sweet, gentle voice was soothing me, telling me to lie still. But then it was gone as everything began to spin. I drifted into blackness, everything fading away.

***

I felt like a drowning person, desperately struggling to reach the surface. I could see light, and fought to get to it. Once more, I felt the relief of something cold on my face.

I cautiously opened an eye, but that set the world to spinning again. I focused on a light somewhere above, concentrating as best I could. Finally, everything became steady.

This time, the voice was clearer, “Lie still, pretty one… don’t try to move.” The damp, cool cloth bathed my face once more.

A blurry image peered down at me. Fingers lifted an eyelid, examining. Then an awful smell as something wafted over my nose. Whatever it was, it worked — the fog was clearing fast. The last dizziness went away.

“Now close your eyes and rest.” I felt the lightest touch of fingers tracing across my face, then they drifted away just as I did.

***

I came awake with a start — where was I? The memory of falling flooded back – bouncing down the hill, tumbling over and over until I hit the tree. Then there was that voice I’d heard, someone soothing my pain away.

Carefully, I eased myself up on an elbow. This time, the room only spun a little. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Once more, I opened my eyes.

She was sitting right beside me, fast asleep with an open book on her lap. The strangest, yet most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her skin was a deep olive-brown sort of hue. She had an enormous mane of hair; rich, luxuriant black hair.

But above all, what made the woman stand out was her jewelry. Huge golden bangles hung from her ears. Beads and chains festooned her neck. Perhaps a dozen or more bracelets sparkled on each wrist. A real Romany gypsy, I suddenly realised.

For the first time, I took a glance around. Flickering candles lit the room, reflecting the bright, almost garish colours that covered every available space. I saw the curved ceiling, the hanging pots and pans… of course, I was in a caravan.

The sheet that covered me slipped down enough to reveal that I was stark naked underneath. First I felt embarrassed, then horrified to see the horrible bruises that were already showing on my bare body, so many of them. I let out a cry of pain when I tried to move my arm, then noticed the shoulder was covered with heavy tape.

My cry had awakened the woman. She reached out to ease me back down. Her voice, strangely accented, instructed me to be still. “Do not try to use that arm, not just yet. You dislocated your shoulder. It is now as it should be, but will be very sore for a while.”

She fetched a mug, brought it to me. “Let me help you drink this. You will not like it, but it is necessary for your recovery.” She was right, it was the foulest stuff I’d ever tasted, but I did as instructed and swallowed it down as fast as I could.

She sat once more, watching me as I began to drift again. I was almost asleep when she said, “I need to go out for a while, but my daughter will watch over you until I return.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that someone else was now seated in the chair – a little girl, who was smiling at me, “Sleep,” she said, “I will be here.”

I knew at once that it was the angel I’d heard earlier. The sweetest voice, coming from a vision of purest beauty. She touched her lips with a finger, then laid it on mine. “Go to sleep… dream of nice things.”

I felt her pull the sheet around my shoulders as my eyes drifted shut. Her hand seemed to brush against my breasts for no obvious reason. Was she feeling me up? Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself just before I fell asleep.

***

It was dark when I woke, though a small lamp burning in one corner gave off a little light. I was bursting for a pee and I seemed to be alone. What should I do?

I began to raise myself, conscious of my shoulder, then felt the weight of an arm that lay draped across my bare tummy. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the gloom, I saw that the little girl was lying there, pressed to my side. It was too dark for me to make out her features, but I noticed with a start that she was naked, just like me.

Her eyes flashed open as I moved. “You are awake.”

My head hurt when I nodded. “I need to go for a… a pee.”

The girl carefully sat up in the bed, then stood. Fetching a robe, she draped it over my shoulders, though she didn’t bother to cover herself. “I will help you, but try to keep your bad arm still. Here… swing your legs down, then stand very slowly.”

I ached in a thousand places, each movement an agony. The girl helped steady me as I struggled to my feet. Holding me as gently as possible, she led me to the door. I saw her pick up the oil lamp on the way. Four wooden steps led down to the ground. My shaky legs barely held me as I cautiously descended.

She lifted a bucket that hung on a hook at the side of the caravan, then set it on the ground. By then, I felt ready to burst. I felt myself sway when I tried to crouch, but the girl reached out to me, held me steady.

I’d never peed with someone at my side before, but this was no time for embarrassment – my need was too urgent. When I finished, I slowly pushed myself back up. The girl reached for a toilet roll that had been placed near the edge of the top stair, then peeled away a length of the paper. I was shocked when she didn’t hand it over, but reached out to wipe me herself.

As she led me back inside, I saw there were only two bunk beds. Her mother was asleep in one, and the other was where I had been until just a moment ago. The girl took my robe away, leaving me naked again,  and helped me back into bed.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

I shook my head … ouch! Wincing from the pain of it, I burrowed back into the comforting softness of the pillow. The girl didn’t speak, just climbed into bed and stretched out next to me. Clearly, this bed was only meant for one, which explained why she’d been so close when I woke.

It had been chilly outside, but now I felt the little girl’s warmth as she snuggled close. Before she drew the covers up, she gently touched what I suspected was a nasty looking bruise. Then she leaned in and kissed it. “Your injuries will soon heal; my magic will soothe them away.”

She had placed the lamp nearby, so now I could clearly see how lovely she was. I placed her at ten, perhaps eleven years old. She watched me as I studied her, then spoke softly. “I had a dream that a beautiful girl would come to me. Now you have, only not quite the way I expected.” She shook her head. “Something less painful would have been better.”

Suddenly, she drew forward and kissed my mouth. As she gently broke away, I heard her sigh, “You are my dream girl.” Then the girl rested her head next to mine. Once more, her arm was lying across my body, only not on my tummy this time. Her wrist was just brushing the underside of my left breast.

My mind was in a whirl. I’d also dreamed of a girlfriend, many times – but naturally, I’d been thinking of a girl my own age. Now, here was this little-girl beauty, assuming that I’d been delivered to her, claiming me as hers.

I knew this was wrong, she was much too young, yet… I couldn’t help the tug in my heart. Slipping my working arm under the girl’s neck, I pulled her closer.

Again she sighed, then I felt a delicious shock of arousal when her hand covered my breast. Even in my battered condition, my nipple responded to the intimacy of her touch. I was wondering whether to kiss her myself, but she seemed to know what I was thinking and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she whispered. “Time for you to sleep, my dream girl.” That was the last thing I remembered.

***

The sounds and smells of cooking dragged me from a deep slumber. I was alone in the bed. Moving slowly, I sat up and tested my muscles. It didn’t feel too bad except for my head and shoulder – they still ached badly. I hadn’t realised that my head was bandaged, not until I reached up to find out where the pain was centred.

The girl’s mother, now busy over a small gas stove, had noticed me moving. “How do you feel, little one? Are you hungry?”

Actually, I was starving, come to think of it. God knows when I’d last eaten. In fact, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have a clue what day it was, or how long I had been there. So many questions buzzing through my head, and I needed answers.

I forgot all that when the door opened and I saw my little angel, carrying a bowl of hot water. Her eyes lit up when she saw me sitting on the side of the bed. Her smile was something else, so very beautiful. She came straight to me, and her mother didn’t bat an eyelid when she kissed me full on the lips.

She took a flannel from the bowl and said, “Sit still.” I obeyed, drinking in the sight of her as she washed me. She examined my bruises as she went – sometimes nodding approvingly, frowning at others as she gently touched them.

When she had finished, the girl draped a linen sling around my neck, then carefully guided my bad arm through the loop until it was supported. It wasn’t until she fetched the robe I’d used earlier that it struck me: I’d been sitting there quite naked the whole time. More surprisingly, I didn’t feel at all self-conscious.

“Come, eat,” the mother said.

She served scrambled eggs, along with chopped fried tomatoes and bacon, which I managed to eat one handed. My angel laughed when she saw me chasing the last few pieces of egg around my plate.

I took coffee when asked, and it was delicious. Now I felt much better.

“So, tell us… what is your name? Where do you come from?” the woman asked me, adding, “You can call me Rose.”

For a moment I felt panicky, unable to remember my name, but then it formed in my mind. “Elizabeth… no, wait… it’s Liz.” Then I panicked again. “How long have I been here? Did – did you find my phone?”

They each took one of my hands, then the mother spoke. “Calm yourself, child. Two days you have been here… and yes, we have your phone. We should maybe have phoned the police and told them of your accident.” She nodded toward the little girl. “Bella asked me not to… she said it was meant to be, your coming to us. She sees things, does my Bella, I have learnt to listen. But still, I worried someone might be fretting over your disappearance.” Her eyes met mine. “You still do not say where you are from.”

“Near to Dereham, but no, no one will be worried about me. My mother is in America, I’ve been alone for a while, and I don’t expect her back for weeks yet… months, even.”

So. My angel was named Bella, and her mother’s name was Rose. Gypsy Rose, I told myself, and almost laughed at the thought. And Bella … that put me in mind of belladonna, also known as deadly nightshade. Or bella donna – beautiful woman. Her mother said she saw things, so must be the former, but I couldn’t believe there was anything deadly about her.

When I mentioned being on my own, little Bella gave me a dazzling smile. “Then you can stay here with us, with me! You heard me call and you came. I knew you would. You really are my dream girl.”

Bella unfastened the bandage that was wrapped about my head, and her mother examined the wound. “You took a very nasty knock, Liz, but it looks to be healing fine.” She held my face and peered deep into my eyes for what seemed an age until she finally said, “Yes, you are okay. There is no lasting damage. The pain should disappear quite soon.”

Clothes were a problem. My running things were badly torn from the tumble I’d taken. I mentioned that to Rose and she replied, “Will we ride to your home and fetch some things? It is about eight miles from here, I think.” She’d clearly decided I would be staying with them. When I saw the longing in Bella’s eyes, I had to agree. How could I refuse my new-found angel?

It was only mid-morning. Rose quickly hitched the horse, and before long we were bouncing and swaying along the country lane. Before our departure, she told me to return to bed, insisting that I still needed rest.

Bella was seated on the bed next to me, her fingers tracing exquisitely across my bare skin. Despite the desire I felt, I still wasn’t comfortable with letting myself go with this child – a beautiful child maybe, but still a child. She saw my doubt and began to whisper to me in a steady chant.

Listening to Bella’s words, my resistance slowly faded, while the need to make love to her only grew stronger. The smile on her face told me that she knew my hunger, longed for it. “You have no choice,” she murmured, “you are mine, Liz… let yourself come to me, I am the love you have waited for.”

How could she know such things? So young, and yet there was something about her that said more. Her fingers found my breasts, lingering here and there. She circled a nipple with a fingertip, only barely touching. She watched my face, she read my expressions, understood what I was feeling.

“You love me, you cannot resist me. I am the one you have been searching for, you are the one that I knew would come. Relax, surrender to my touch. Feel the love I offer, it is yours to take.”

She took a nipple between her fingers, gave it a pinch. I heard my gasp as my body pulsed with feelings… God, such feelings. I reached for her with my good arm and pulled her in, seeing a look of triumph in her eyes.

Then her lips met mine. Her lips, so beautifully soft, so sweet. As I drew her even closer, the kiss became something I’d only dreamed of. My heart surged, my pulse raced, I sucked her in. I was lost to this girl. I suddenly felt a need, so much need… and all for my angel.

Angel, devil, witch? I no longer cared, all I knew was that I had to have her.

Bella gave my tit a hard squeeze – how could she know how much I loved that? – then laughed joyfully as her hand crept lower to stroke my belly. She spoke again. “Feel my love, Liz. It is all for you, my dream girl. We were meant to be one, you and I. Now join with me, love me.”

My reservations were gone, my thoughts were only of Bella. God, I adored her.

Her fingers were already halfway there, but the heat was upon me and wouldn’t be denied. I seized her hand in mine and thrust it between my legs, pressing it to my pussy. “Love me, Bella,” I cried, “Please love me – I need you so much!”

Her tinkling laughter was like music, the scent of her skin intoxicating. Bella delved into me – I didn’t know how little girl’s fingers could go so deep, but they seemed to fill me completely.

Lord, how she loved me. One moment caressing me deep inside, then briefly teasing my clit before sliding down again, between my pussy lips… and further. There was the sweet shock I experienced when Bella touched my rose, a place I’d never thought of as a source of pleasure. Her fingers trailed up and down the crack of my bum – God, the sensations that gave me! I felt the need for her to press a finger inside… but she didn’t, just tickled around and around my most private place, serenaded by the melody of her laugh.

Then her fingers vanished; Bella was no longer touching me. I waited, nothing. Opening my eyes, I found her studying me with a searching look. “My beautiful Liz… do you understand now? You are now mine, my lover forevermore. Are you willing to accept what I offer you?”

I gazed into her eyes and saw the love, it was everything I’d ever wanted. “Bella, my little witch… I love you, I am yours.”

She fell into my arms, our mouths crushed together, and we began to make love for real.

The caravan rocked as it moved along. Was it the roughness of the lane, or perhaps our urgent fucking?

From somewhere above I heard a laugh. It was Bella’s mother, welcoming me to their family.

The End