Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Intro from JetBoy: This isn’t actually a new piece, but one of the few old stories of mine from Lesbian Lolita that I never got around to posting here. It wasn’t at that site for its final years, so most of you have never read it. I came up short this week on something new to post, and this moldy oldie popped up to remind me of its existence. It’s from a younger, less polished me, but does possess a few humble virtues. Hope you like it.

 

by JetBoy

“I’ll never treat my kids the way my parents treated me.”

I hear gay friends and acquaintances say that sometimes, and I always laugh. “Don’t be so sure,” I reply.

When my parents found out that I was a lesbian just after I’d turned eighteen, they told me I was going to hell. I was left devastated, and moved out the next day. I’ve never spoken to them since. How, I wondered, could anyone say something so hurtful to their own child, just because of who they chose to love?

Once I’d become a mother myself, I was determined to be more understanding than my parents; to respect my daughter Sammy’s decisions about who she was when the time came, to never stand in judgment. Lesbian, straight, bisexual, transgendered — even asexual, if such a thing really exists — I’d love and cherish Sammy no matter what path she took. Her happiness was my greatest concern, and my wife Linda felt the same way.

But despite my best intentions, I slipped.

We began to teach Sammy about her body at an early age. We both felt that masturbation was a crucial skill for a young girl to learn, so when she was only six, Linda and I showed her where her clitoris was, and how to use it to please herself. We let her see our own pussies, pointing out all the different parts and what they were for. Then we masturbated in front of Sammy until we came, just to give her an idea of what the female orgasm is like.

When she attempted masturbation herself, Sammy clumsily rubbed between her legs, brow furrowed adorably as she tried to coax out the good feelings with her fingers. Though frustrated at first, she quickly got the hang of it — and Linda and I began to pleasure ourselves once more, wanting to join our little girl as she worked her way toward that first orgasm.

As the three of us fingered our cunts, I tried to capture the feelings in words for our daughter, describing it to her as a lovely warmth that built and built inside you; the resulting climax like a bursting dam that filled the body and spirit to overflowing.

First Linda and I came, and then we watched in awe as our daughter’s eyes closed, her thin frame shivering, breath coming in tiny gasps as she experienced her first adult rapture. Sammy went limp, took a few deep breaths — then her adorable face lit up with delight, and she thrust her fists skyward. “Yay! I did it!”

We were thrilled — our little girl was on her way to being a woman!

The three of us cuddled together afterward — and as Linda and I hugged Sammy between us we told her all about how, one day, she would have a girlfriend or boyfriend of her own. Until then, though, her sex was a private place, only to be shared with someone she really loved.

The next night, Linda and I undressed and pleasured one another while Sammy watched, showing our darling girl the wonders of lovemaking between women. It was amazing, easily one of the most thrilling sexual experiences I’d ever had. Afterward, as we lay together, breathing heavily and our bodies glistening, Sammy gave us each a hug and a kiss, whispering “Thank you, Mama,” before tiptoeing off to her own bed.

I sometimes tried to share our ideas about raising our child with other queer moms we knew, but we quickly found out that most of them weren’t open at all to what we were doing. Some of them called it strange, others found it upsetting that we exposed our little girl to sexuality at her age, insisting that Sammy was far too young for such things. But we did find one other lesbian couple that thought our ideas had merit, and they had a young daughter of their own.

Maria was a year younger than Sammy. We allowed their friendship to unfold naturally, letting our daughter know that her new playmate came from a family like ours, but otherwise opting not to interfere. They quickly grew close, spending every free moment together.

Then one day, Linda and I watched them both sitting on our daughter’s bed, their legs spread open as Sammy taught her new friend to masturbate. It was a beautiful sight — and we couldn’t tear our eyes away, watching from the hallway as the girls’ self-pleasure led to them kissing, then shyly touching one another. They both undressed, eyes wide with wonder as they began to explore each other’s bodies.

Deciding to let the girls have their privacy, we left them to their lover’s games, drifting upstairs to the bedroom to satisfy some newly aroused urges of our own.

As the years passed, our daughter had several girlfriends and played sexual games with many of them. She was about ten when we finally knew for certain that our Sammy was gay, just like her mothers. Linda and I were over the moon with pride.

Around that time, Sammy got a babysitting job for another lesbian couple we knew. Sammy was utterly enthralled with their little girl, a two-year-old named Georgia. We were more than happy to let her take on an adult responsibility, and she quickly developed a real knack for looking after the toddler.

“Oh, Mama… I wish I had a little sister,” Sammy wistfully said upon returning from their house one day.

That got me and Linda thinking: should we have another child? We’d only planned on one, having decided early on that a larger family simply wasn’t for us. But then we saw how badly Sammy wanted a sister (and how she would be willing to help us take care of her), and then took into consideration how perfectly our little girl had turned out. In the end, we decided to go for it.

Another reason we liked the idea is that it would give Linda something she’d longed for: to carry and nurse a baby. I’d been the birth mother of Sammy, and Linda wanted to experience pregnancy for herself. So this time she was to bear the child, created with the same sperm we had used to make Sammy.

Our little girl had turned out so perfectly, you see. Beautiful Sammy, a sight to behold. Her hair was long, golden blond, eyes sky blue. She had perfect features, and the softest, creamiest skin imaginable. When we planned for her, Linda and I had selected a sperm donor with a history of having lovely female children. He had a gay sister, too, which made him the perfect candidate for us. We joked a bit about him being a carrier of lesbian genes, but deep down inside, Linda and I figured it couldn’t hurt! So naturally, we went back to him for a second helping.

Linda and I went camping the next night, leaving Sammy with Maria and her mothers. That evening, we made love beneath the stars, and I used a turkey baster to impregnate my beautiful wife.

Nine months later, Sammy had her baby sister.

The child was flawless — the loveliest, most good-natured creature imaginable. Sammy wanted to name her Labia. We finally settled on Lana, but we continued to call her Labia and Laby the Baby at home. At the time, I remember wisecracking, This kid is gonna have such a complex — and of course, we all laughed. But we didn’t know the half of it. Maybe I should have seen Sammy’s choice of that particular name as a red flag.

As we’d hoped, Sammy was an enormous help with Laby. She carried her, changed her, played with her. One day, I even caught Sammy trying to breastfeed her baby sister, and told her to stop.

She pouted. “But Mommy Linda does it. Why can’t I?”

“Because you’re not her mother.”

“But I’m starting to get boobs! It’s not fair!”

“Life isn’t fair, kiddo. Just take my word for it, you aren’t supposed to breastfeed your own sister. Anyhow, you don’t have any milk to give Laby, so it’s probably frustrating for her.”

She grumbled a bit, but accepted my decision. Still, I should’ve seen that little episode as another warning sign.

In the meantime, Sammy was still babysitting for our friends and spending a great deal of time with Georgia. By this time, Georgia was four and our Sammy was twelve. Georgia was a smart little redhead, one of the cutest kids you ever saw. She loved Sammy so much that they were like sisters. They would play with Barbies together, and Sammy would read her stories.

Sammy’s friend Maria would also spend time with Georgia. She was a sexy Latina girl with curly black hair and breathtaking brown eyes. By this time, she and our daughter had been intimate for several years. Sammy had sex with other girls, but Maria was her favorite lover. So obviously, we did know that Samantha fooled around with girls her own age.

What came next, though, was a real shocker.

I was home from work early on a Monday afternoon. I knew Georgia would be there, since Sammy always watched her after school. Linda was usually home at this time, but on that day she was out somewhere with Laby. I figured that I’d find Georgia and Sammy at home playing with their Barbies or something.

When I entered through the front door and didn’t see anyone downstairs, I went to Sammy’s bedroom and carefully opened the door to peer inside, freezing in shock at what I saw.

Georgia and my daughter were both completely nude. Georgia was lying on her back with her legs wide open, Samantha’s face buried between the four-year-old’s thighs, eagerly sucking and licking at her glistening slit. Sammy was on her hands and knees before her little friend, bottom jutting out, her bare pussy clearly visible and wet as she fingered herself with one hand.

I stood rooted to the spot watching little Georgia come, her babyish body wriggling in an orgasm that reminded me of Samantha’s first climax, so many years ago. The ecstatic expression on her face made Georgia seem like a grown woman. Though only four, in a very real way she was no longer a child, but a full-fledged sexual creature.

I was too surprised to say anything, but then Georgia saw me, her eyes dancing with delight. As I stared in disbelief, she crawled to Samantha’s backside, then placed her tiny hands on my daughter’s bottom, spreading her cheeks open for what I suddenly realized was my benefit. My head swam as she smiled at me, all the while displaying Sammy’s anus and vulva as if she were inviting me to join her in their wonderful game.

At that moment Samantha turned her head and, seeing me standing there, she flinched, obviously startled.

“How… how long have you been standing there?” she whispered.

“Long enough,” I said. “Long enough to see my own daughter playing sex games with a four-year-old.”

Sammy went pale, her eyes suddenly fearful.

“Do Georgia’s mommies know that she’s doing these things with you?” I asked my daughter, fighting to calm my pounding heart.

“I don’t, I mean, I, I haven’t –” Sammy stammered, then fell silent. “I didn’t think they’d mind,” she finally said.

I was both furious and flabbergasted, my head spinning with the enormity of it all. I wanted to be angry, but somehow I couldn’t help but feel at least partly responsible for this, if only for letting Sam have sex with any girl she pleased. But until now, she’d only been with girls her own age! Or so I thought, I glumly told myself.

“You mean that they don’t know about this,” I said, frowning.

“No,” she confessed.

Still numb with shock, I sat on the bed next to Georgia to look at her more closely. She smiled innocently when I gently touched her face. I ran my fingers through her hair and saw, as if for the first time, what a ravishing little beauty she was. I’d always known that she was a cute child, but at that moment, I saw much more. Her green eyes enchanted me, as if I could fall into them…

And then she kissed me. That adorable four-year-old child tilted her face up to mine, and our lips met. She had the softest, sweetest little mouth. Her tongue emerged, and I was unable to stop myself from sucking it for the merest instant.

I quickly withdrew in horror, unable to believe what had just happened. The girl in front of me wasn’t just a child, she was practically a toddler — and yet, for that moment, I had found her sexually desirable! My mind lingered on how such a young girl knew how to kiss the way she did. Clearly, Sam had taught her quite a lot.

Georgia moved over to Samantha and crawled into her waiting arms, the two naked girls cuddling. It seemed so natural, they looked like they belonged together. But Sammy’s practically a woman, I told myself, and Georgia’s only four. This has to stop.

I took a moment to process all of this as I continued to watch them hug. They were kissing and giggling now, their eyes were locked together, and they were touching each other gently, like the most devoted of lovers. Half of me was enthralled by how beautiful they looked together, the other half repeating over and over to myself, This isn’t right. It’s not right.

Then a cold knot of fear began to form in my belly as I thought about the legal implications of what was happening. Sammy was still a minor, but I was pretty sure it was illegal for an older girl to have sex with one as young as Georgia.

But what about the things Linda and I had taught Sammy about sex? Masturbating with her, allowing her to watch us fuck — could we have been breaking the law? I simply hadn’t thought about it at the time… and now I was horribly confused, struggling with notions of right and wrong.

I noticed with a start that Sammy and Georgia’s kisses were growing increasingly passionate as they became lost in renewed lust, their hands moving freely over each other’s bodies. Good grief — were they going to make love right in front of me?

“No!” I exclaimed, reaching in to tug them apart.

Stricken, the girls gaped at me. “Mommmm…” Sammy groaned in frustration.

“You — you can’t be doing this,” I stammered, my heart throbbing again. “Get dressed, both of you. We’ll go downstairs and I’ll fix you a snack.”

The girls dressed in silence, then we descended the stairs together, Sammy holding Georgia’s hand as she guided the child safely to the bottom.

We entered the kitchen, and I took some apple slices from the fridge and put them on the table. The girls sat down to eat.

I sat next to Sammy and began speaking quietly. “Honey… it’s not right for you two to be doing these things.”

“But Mom, we’re in love!” Samantha blurted.

“How can you say that? You’re doing algebra — and she can’t even read yet.”

“You don’t need to read to make love,” she said, her jaw in that determined set I knew all too well.

I shook my head. “Samantha… this is very serious. You can go to jail for making love with a child that young. Don’t you know that?”

Georgia sat meekly, eating her apple slices. Samantha just gazed at me blankly.

I was on uncertain ground here, trying to blindly feel my way. How do you explain to a young girl who’s grown up in an environment like ours that two girls of ten becoming lovers is one thing — and a twelve-year-old seducing a child of four is another?

“Don’t you like girls your own age? What about Maria?” I asked.

“Maria knows.”

“She knows what?” Then it dawned on me. “You mean that… Maria knows about you and Georgia?”

Sam nervously nodded. “Uh-huh.”

I fixed her with a stern look. “Has she — done anything with Georgia? The kind of things you were doing just now?”

She shook her head. “Not yet, but she wants to.”

I sighed, somewhat relieved. “Does anyone else know about this?”

“No.”

“Good. Keep it that way. Do not breathe a word about what you were doing to anyone — either of you.” Pushing my chair back, I rose from the table. “Okay, Georgia, I think it’s time for me to take you home.” Then I gazed evenly at Sammy. “As for you… well, your babysitting days are over, missy.”

When I brought Georgia home, I let her mommies Jill and Sophia know that Samantha would not be taking care of their little girl for a while, because she was being punished. But I didn’t tell them any more than that.

Later that day when Linda came home, I pulled her aside and told her about family drama she’d missed when she and the baby were out. I was anxious to hear her reaction to the news about our daughter.

Initially there was a look of serious concern on Linda’s face as I told her everything, but at last she gave me a soothing hug and said, “Well, honey, this is how we raised her, isn’t it? I mean, we’ve always encouraged her to be sexual, since she was three. We taught her that it is okay to share her body with other girls for pleasure… and for love.”

“Yeah,” I nodded. “But we never thought to tell her about something like this — that some girls are too young for her to play those kind of games with. I mean, what if Georgia was only two? Sammy may only be twelve, but people would still call her a child molester.”

Linda pursed her lips, lost in thought. “From what you told me, Georgia seemed to be happy about being intimate with Sammy. And we both know that little girls are sexual creatures, after all. I just don’t think we ought to treat Sammy as some kind of predator, hon. She wouldn’t ever abuse Georgia, you know that.”

“That’s as may be,” I said. “But Georgia is still too young to be having sex with Sammy. We can’t let them be together anymore.”

So we decided not to punish Samantha, but I made it clear to her there was no way she was going to be allowed to spend time with Georgia or babysit her again for a long, long while. She was extremely upset, but I’d made up my mind. Sammy tried to get Linda to take her side, but Linda told her that she was going to stand by my decision.

As the weeks passed, Samantha would occasionally plead to see Georgia, but we wouldn’t allow it. She gave me attitude, but I expected that and held my ground. Maria was there to comfort her, she still had her baby sister, plus her other girlfriends — but she still missed Georgia terribly, and it took a serious toll on her happiness.

Finally, one day I found her sobbing quietly on the sofa.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” I asked, touching her shoulder.

“Fuck you!” she cried, then fled to her room.

You might think that it’s totally normal for a preteen girl to talk back to her mother that way. But this was new for Samantha — she had never before raised her voice to me in anger, and it really stung. I was hurt and sorely tempted to punish her, but something told me I had to do better than that. Deep down inside, I knew Sammy didn’t really hate me — she was just lashing out because of the hurt she felt.

And that was when it hit me how wrong I’d been. Sure, my daughter had engaged in sexual activity with a four year old girl, and that could have landed our family in a world of trouble. But she hadn’t sought out Georgia because of her age. Sammy genuinely adored her little friend, and had always been fiercely protective toward her. They’d played together, napped together, broken bread together, grown together. Then they became lovers… and I had torn them apart.

After all the weeks of anger and worry, I now felt as if I’d done my little girl a terrible injustice.

Then the phone rang — and it was as if my prayers had been heard and answered when I picked up the receiver to find Georgia’s mom Sophia on the other end, calling to see if Sammy was still being punished.

“Georgia misses her terribly, you know. She adores your daughter, and Jill and I miss her too. We would love to have Sammy babysit for us again, if you didn’t mind…?”

Before I replied, I thought about my daughter and how unhappy she had been without Georgia. And despite the discomfort I’d felt at the sexual aspect of their relationship, I couldn’t help but think about how overjoyed Sammy would be to be allowed to see her little lover once more.

And then I felt the burden of inhibition and fear lifted from my heart. I knew that I had to let Sammy be true to herself, and if that meant letting her continue her relationship, however taboo, with Georgia or any other partner she chose — well, so be it.

I took a deep breath. “Thanks so much for thinking of us, Sophia. No, she isn’t being punished anymore.”

Sophia sighed happily. “I’m so glad to hear that. Georgia will be overjoyed.” Her voice dropped to an amused whisper. “You know, I think she and Samantha might be in love.”

Her words floored me. All I could do was stammer, “Y-you think so?”

“Oh, yes. I’m fairly certain that they’ve been fooling around a bit with each other — experimenting, you know.” She laughed. “Isn’t that adorable? So… if she isn’t grounded any longer, could Samantha come over tonight? I don’t think Georgia can wait until tomorrow.”

I stood there clutching the receiver, shaking my head in awe at what a scared little fool I had been. “That sounds like a lovely idea. Why don’t I go get Sammy now, and let her talk to you herself?”

Marching up the stairs, I tapped on Sammy’s door. “Honey?” No response. “Samantha, answer me, please.”

Her voice was sullen. “What?”

“I just wanted you to know that your punishment is over and done with — and there’s someone on the phone who would very much like to speak to you.”

Sammy’s door flew open, and my daughter stood before me, her face radiant with joy. “Thank you, Mommy… oh thank you, thank you!” she cried, hugging me tightly, her face pressed to my breasts. Then she was racing down the step two at a time to get to the phone… and I slid down the wall to sit on the floor, overcome with sheer emotional overload. I heard Sammy’s happy voice, filling the air like music as she chatted with Sophia, then Georgia.

In the days that followed, I came to understand that, in a way, I had been just as cruel to Samantha as my parents had been to me. Okay, that’s a huge overstatement, but I’d still misjudged my daughter in a big way. We often tend to judge people not by our own perceptions, but by how we think others perceive them. I knew now that Samantha was not and had never been a predator — just a very loving and sexual girl who loved other girls, including a four-year-old named Georgia.

Sammy and Georgia resumed their relationship after that, both as friends and lovers, and they were inseparable as always. We made sure that both of them — plus Maria, who was soon playing with little Georgia herself — understood how important it was to keep their sex games secret. They were allowed to make love as often as they liked, but only in our home.

Funny thing, though… nearly anyone who saw Sammy and Georgia together could detect the powerful bond that linked them, one so intense that many people mistook them for sisters. No one outside our family knew how deep that bond ran, though — at least not for another twelve years, until Georgia reached the age of legal consent. To this day, I still marvel at the foolishness of society and its smothering, stifling laws.

Our house turned into a lesbian love nest after Sammy and Georgia reunited. Linda and I began to openly indulge in sex play in front of the girls, even while breastfeeding Laby. The girls grew equally casual about their lovemaking, occasionally even getting naked and intimate in the living room. We’d be watching a movie, Sammy cradling Georgia in her lap… then I’d glance over from my recliner to see Georgia spread out on the couch, my daughter licking at the child’s smooth slit. Sometimes Linda or I would masturbate as we watched them couple, or even strip down and fuck right there and then.

Not long after that came a day when Samantha shyly expressed an interest in nursing from me once again, “just to remember what it was like.” My wife and I discussed our daughter’s request and, in the end, decided to let her have what she wanted.

Sammy and I met in the living room the very next day. We undressed completely, then my daughter curled up on the couch with me, her head in my lap, and I offered her my breast. Oh, it felt lovely, the warmth of my beautiful child’s mouth as it enveloped my nipple.

Almost without thinking, I slipped a hand between my thighs and began to gently fondle my cunt, the other arm cradling Sammy to me as she nursed. It brought back sweet memories of pleasuring myself the very same way when I’d suckled her as an infant.

Suddenly Sammy shifted herself to straddle my lap. Before I could even register surprise my daughter was kissing me, probing my mouth so sweetly with her tongue. I went tense for a few seconds before giving in to her with a whimper, letting my girl take me. I’d had no idea that she wanted this — and her passion simply overwhelmed my sense of right and wrong.

Soon I was sprawled back, thighs spread wide as she knelt before me, eagerly licking my pussy. I stared in disbelief while Sammy ate me, a hand busy between her own legs. The forbidden nature of what my daughter was doing excited me so intensely that I was coming before I knew it, the couch squeaking frantically beneath me as I rocked to and fro.

I lay spent, my hand on Sammy’s shoulder. She was climaxing herself, moaning in ecstasy, her face pressing into my thigh as she fingered her pussy. She hugged my leg for a moment while catching her breath, then crawled into my arms, where we shared a few lazy kisses.

Drawing back, she gazed adoringly into my eyes. “I love you, Mom,” was all she said, then she rose, picked up her clothes and padded from the room, still naked.

I suppose that I should have felt guilty about allowing my daughter to make love to me — yet I didn’t, not at all. And later that night, when the kids were asleep, I told Linda what had happened between Sammy and I. She shed a few happy tears, telling me how beautiful she found the whole idea. “I only wish I could have watched,” she whispered.

She took my hand and led my upstairs to the bedroom, where we undressed, coming together in some especially heated fucking.

Two days later, while I was out shopping, Sammy came to Linda and asked if she could nurse from her now. My wife eagerly agreed, and they climbed the stairs to our bedroom.

Linda was positively glowing that evening when she told me about her afternoon of passion with Sammy — the loving caresses, the heated kisses they’d shared, and the way our daughter had gone down on her until she came. Unlike me, Linda had returned the favor, crawling between Samantha’s legs to kiss and lick at her lightly-downed slit.

Things got even wilder in our household after that day. I still recall how sweetly Samantha blushed when she asked Linda and I if we would allow Maria to nurse from us, just as she had. We agreed, and that led to an incredible evening where all four of us got together for a long, lovely session of exploration, all of us nude.

I never actually had sex with any of the young girls in our house, not technically. I let them suck my tits and pussy and finger me to orgasm a few times, but couldn’t quite bring myself to do more than just French kiss them in return. Luckily, Maria and Samantha understood and respected my limitations. Linda was willing to make love to the girls — but only once in a while, like a special treat.

Both Sammy and Maria had insatiable appetites for sex and girls, always pulling young friends into their circle — constantly recruiting girls to the ways of Sappho, forever altering their futures to accommodate the divine pleasures of lesbianism. It was exciting to see, and we were fortunate that as time passed no girl ever complained, not once. A few weren’t interested in what Maria and my daughter had to offer, but they were all understanding about the importance of keeping our secrets.

Eventually Georgia reached womanhood, and at the age of sixteen she moved in with Samantha in a house just one mile away from here, the two of them living openly as lovers. Maria also lives with them, and the three of them now have two lovely adopted daughters that they are raising. Linda and I visit them often. Samantha wants my wife and I to become involved in the sex lives of their little girls, and I think that one day, we will.

Sammy even sent me a single red rose, accompanied by a note asking me very sweetly if I would spend a night with her; an evening where she and I would make love for real. I’ve always wanted to, she wrote.

I thought long and hard about her request, finally deciding to say yes. I prefer to keep the details of that night to myself for now, but rest assured that we had a marvelous time, and it brought us even closer as parent and child. We’ve only had the one experience together, but I suspect it will happen again some day.

Laby is growing up nicely. She is twelve now, and drop-dead gorgeous. Like her big sister, she is gay, and already has a girlfriend her own age. She spends a lot of time with her sisters and nieces, and is an eager participant in their sex games. Sammy has made love with her baby sister many times, and keeps dropping hints that Linda and I should invite Laby into our bed for a night. “She’d love it!” she insists, with a smile. We’re still mulling that one over.

My wife and I, with help from the girls, are crafting a picture book about a lesbian family. Surely there are others out there living as we do, and we know how important it is for children to see examples of their own families represented and validated. In the months since Linda and I began this project, our book has grown into a thing of genuine beauty — and it will open with the story you are reading right now.

We are witness to a new wondrous generation of girls who don’t view lesbian sex as something taboo or dirty, but as healthy and normal. They are a generation of confident, happy, successful, strong gay women.

The End