Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by JetBoy and BlueJean

A brief summary of what has transpired thus far. (To get a more detailed breakdown of the earlier chapters, please see Chapter Links for descriptions)

Orphaned at the age of eight, sixteen-year-old Doris Sloane has spent half her life in a Catholic orphanage, where she was trained to care for young children. Our story begins when she is taken into service at the home of Victoria Shaw, a widow with three daughters: Melinda (ten), Sophia (eleven) and Becky (fourteen). Doris is thoroughly satisfied with this new life, but her orderly world takes an odd turn one night when she is seduced by Mrs. Shaw. Surprising herself, Doris responds eagerly, fully returning the pleasure she has been given.

Next morning, Doris is taken aback when Mrs. Shaw’s behavior seems no different from any other day, with no acknowledgement of the coupling they’d indulged in just hours earlier. Her confusion soon turns to fear, and Doris begins to wonder if, having given in to Mrs. Shaw’s desires, she is about to be dismissed from her position. Thankfully, one morning after seeing the girls off to school, she is summoned by her mistress, and they make love again.

I

The days and weeks following that divine afternoon with Victoria were the happiest I’d known since childhood, when Mama and Papa were still alive. My tread seemed lighter than air, as if I was buoyed along on waves of love.

My mistress and I shared pleasure nearly every day, and occasionally at night. I quickly fell into a routine in which I would awaken, serve breakfast, then get Melinda and Sophia ready for school. Once the three girls were on their way, Victoria would seek me out, giving me a look that never failed to quicken my pulse, and the two of us would come together in a deep, ardent kiss.

As is often the inclination of new lovers, Victoria and I would seek out ever more novel places to couple. The kitchen, the garden, and the drawing room all bore the brunt of our passion, as did my mistress’ study and the back seat of the family automobile. Sometimes, she liked to have her way with me on the stairs, or even upon the dining table where the children had eaten their breakfast not long before.

Victoria taught me a great deal about the art of pleasing a woman – including some things that might even be considered depraved. When she first licked my anus, I was shocked, but that warm, wet tongue felt so lovely in my arse that any protests I might have made vanished like morning mist. It wasn’t long before I was eagerly servicing her in the same way.

She taught me forbidden words that lovers only spoke in the heat of passion, then encouraged me to use them freely when we lay together. Oddly enough, that was the most difficult desire of hers to fulfil. I could kiss Victoria’s bumhole or suckle her toes with enthusiasm, but found it absurdly hard to use rude words in the presence of a lady.

We had to keep our pleasures a strict secret, of course, not just from the girls, but Mrs. Broomfield as well. Thankfully, the cook’s routine was entirely predictable – she always arrived first thing in the morning to prepare breakfast, then again at three o’clock in the afternoon to start the evening meal. This gave Victoria and myself plenty of time to put ourselves back together after a frenzied bout of lovemaking.

Sometimes, she would even lend me a hand with the housework, if we dawdled too long in bed. You may find it difficult to imagine the lady of the house assisting a mere servant girl in her everyday duties, but I came to discover that kindness was one of Victoria’s chief attributes – a trait that perhaps she had felt the need to keep guarded in her everyday life, one that came with its own vulnerabilities.

But my mistress was as good and generous as she was beautiful. When she’d first taken me on as nanny, we agreed on a salary I was to be paid. I would have gladly worked for nothing in order to escape that wretched orphanage, but nevertheless made plans to save as much of my wages as possible.

A few weeks after I entered her service, and a few more before we’d become intimate, Victoria not only increased my wage, telling me she was completely satisfied with my work, but also helped  to open my first bank account.

As for the three frumpy, dun-coloured dresses I’d brought with me to Shadowglen, I passed the lot along to the local ragman. I bought myself several new outfits, and for the first time in my life, was able to take genuine pride in my everyday appearance.

Then one day, Victoria called me into her study to let me know that from that day forward, I was to take my meals with her and the girls in the dining room, instead of being relegated to the kitchen. “There’s no earthly reason for you to eat on your own,” she told me. “Besides, the girls will enjoy your company.” This was glad news indeed, because I did sometimes feel a bit lonely during mealtimes.

As you see, I had ample reason to be happy. And I was happy, for the most part. There was but a single note of melancholy, and it grew a little more pronounced with each passing day: the knowledge that my life with the Shaws was only intended to last for two years.

In a couple of months, we would celebrate Sophia’s twelfth birthday. When Melinda, the youngest, reached that age herself, Victoria would no longer require the services of a nanny. What would become of me then?

When I first came to Shadowglen, my intention was to prove myself as a reliable employee in the time allotted to me, then set out to carve my own path. I had ambitions, you see, and had never planned to live out my days as the servant of another. I intended to be my own woman, come what may.

Now, though, my priorities had shifted somewhat. I loved my life with the Shaws, and wanted more than anything to remain with them. I’d come to adore Melinda and Sophia as if they were my own sisters, and was equally as fond of Becky, though since that day in the clothing shop, she had regained some of her aloofness, and seemed inexplicably distant in my presence. As for Mrs. Broomfield, she became something of an aunt to me, once I’d broken through the crust of her gruff exterior.

And then there was Victoria. Victoria, who I loved with every fibre of my being.

In the institution, when the other girls had prattled on about love and how they longed to know it, I quickly became convinced the whole notion was a bright, shining lie – a cheap gimcrack to dazzle us while the world picked our pockets.

From the conversations and gossip we exchanged, I was quick to learn how despicably boys treated the girls who dallied with them; how they took what they wanted, then strode away laughing, slapping each other’s backs. It was far from easy, but girls who wanted it badly enough could often find the ways and means to meet up with boys they liked – and the boys, in turn, seemed ever able to work out ways to get to us.

I remembered our Lucy, a vivacious beauty who’d been rendered pregnant, abandoned by a local lout, then gave birth to a child she was deemed unfit to raise. It broke the girl, wrecking her life when it had scarcely begun. At the age of fourteen, I’d already determined that I would never be led astray by the good looks or sweet words of a boy – or a man, for that matter.

But how could I have known that my heart might be so easily stolen by a woman? Victoria Shaw had enchanted me, left me utterly undone. She was my first thought upon waking; my last before slumber.

And yet, I had never shared these feelings with her, never confessed my love. Why? Fear, plain and simple. Yes, I loved Victoria, but how was it possible for her to love me in return? She was beautiful and wealthy, she had property and position. I was a servant girl, an orphan with a few scrimped and saved pounds squirrelled away in the bank. Oh, Victoria was fond of me, for sure, and the pleasures we shared were a mutual delight, but even at that tender age, I knew a huge gulf lay between the sex we had and the devotion I ached for. My mistress gave her body freely, but what right did I have to ask for her heart as well?

A few times, I’d shored up my courage and vowed to say the words to her. As we lay entwined in the sweet aftermath of our coupling, I would gaze into those bright blue eyes and silently mouth, “Victoria, I love you.” And every time I tried to say the words out loud, my courage failed me. Later, at night, curled up in my lonely bed, I would toss and turn, infuriated by my cowardice.

II

Bath time in the Shaw household was a rather unusual affair, unlike anything I was accustomed to. Several years previously, Victoria had commissioned the installation of an ornately tiled Japanese-style bath, in place of the customary small tub that sufficed for most families in Britain. She had fond memories of bathing in onsen and traditional bath houses in Japan when she was younger, she explained, having made several trips there with her parents. Subsequently, communal bathing became a perfectly normal ritual at Shadowglen. By the time I entered service with the Shaws, Becky no longer shared the water with her sisters, having outgrown the practice. Or perhaps she was simply emulating her mother, who preferred to bathe alone, usually accompanied by a glass of wine.

Melinda and Sophia, though, had no qualms about sharing, and early on in my days at Shadowglen the role of bath attendant was added to my duties. The girls often encouraged me to join them in the water, but I thought it improper behaviour for a nanny, so I confined myself to washing their hair and drying them off with towels afterward.

Once Victoria and I became familiar with our new intimacy, it was inevitable that we would find ourselves in her luxurious sunken bath, where we would make love, or wash away the evidence of our passion.

That first time in the bath, we stood in the steaming water and lathered each other’s bodies, then took great delight in brushing breast against breast, nipple against nipple. Each touch was greatly amplified by the soap lubricating our bodies, so sublime that I thought it would be enough to make me climax there and then, when we’d scarcely begun.

But Victoria had other plans. She had me sit on the corner of the bath and open my legs for her. I felt somewhat self-conscious exposed like that, but when my mistress brought a soapy breast to my aching cunt, all inhibition evaporated at the prospect of her nipple engaging with my sex. I simply had to know what it felt like.

With Victoria stuffing her stiff nipple into my cunny while rubbing my clit with her thumb, I couldn’t hold back any longer. My climax came hard and fast, legs clamping down against Victoria’s shoulders, a thin, reedy cry echoing off the ornately tiled walls. I was only faintly aware that the sound was coming from me.

When I eventually recovered, Victoria insisted I return the favour. And who was I to argue? Kneeling before her, I began to nuzzle my lady’s sex, drinking from her like a bee imbibing nectar.

Soon after, both entirely spent, the two of us sank down into the warmth of the water and basked in each other’s company for as long as we dared. Mrs. Broomfield would be returning soon, and the bath would need cleaning before the girls used it later that night, lest they become curious as to why someone would be having a soak in the middle of the day. Afternoon bathing was an unheard of practice in those days, even for well-to-do families like the Shaws.

That was when I idly mentioned how Melinda and Sophia would sometimes invite me to bathe with them, and my reluctance to do so.

My mistress made a suggestion that took me completely by surprise. “Why on earth shouldn’t you share the water with the girls?” was her reply. “You’d have a much easier time washing their hair, and you wouldn’t need to worry about getting your clothes wet. Honestly, I don’t see why you’re so shy about it. I bathed with my daughters many times when they were younger. It’s perfectly natural.”

“But you’re their mother,” I said. “Wouldn’t it be odd for them to see their nanny naked?”

“Is it odd for you to see them naked?”

“Well, no. But that’s different.”

“Different how?”

“I… I can’t explain it very well, Victoria. It just feels like something I shouldn’t do. And it would feel at least a little awkward, having them stare at me.”

Victoria made a dismissive cluck. “You’re making too much of this, dear Doris. There’s nothing at all wrong with a bit of healthy curiosity on their part. I’m sure you haven’t failed to notice their bodies when you bathe them. Why shouldn’t they see yours?”

I wasn’t sure what my lady was getting at. “I… No… I mean… Yes, of course I can see them. But I don’t dwell on it, I’m just there to help them wash their hair and make sure they don’t get up to mischief.”

My lady snaked a soapy finger along the curve of my breasts. “Then perhaps you should take the time to look at them more closely. The human body is a wonderful thing to behold. Trust me when I tell you this: there is no shame in looking. The Church has done its best to cultivate the notion that the naked form is somehow sinful, something to be hidden away. I disagree.”

Victoria was right, of course. Despite my efforts to purge it, I remained tainted by lingering traces of Catholic guilt. Even after escaping their clutches, it proved hard to let go of my prejudices. That I was there, naked in the bath with a woman lover, proved I had overcome some of that indoctrination, but there was still progress to be made.

“You’re right,” I said after some consideration. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of, is there?”

“Certainly not,” Victoria agreed, her smile warm and inviting. “And so, when you bathe the girls tonight, open your eyes.” She widened her own eyes to illustrate the point. “Take the time to admire their beauty. Each little girl is unique in that regard, like a flower. I’m sure it won’t be long before you pluck up the courage to get in with them and bathe together, as the Japanese do.”

Cupping my face, her mouth found mine, and we shared a tender kiss. Then, as it so often did, the embers of our desire began to smoulder anew, and we drifted easily into another afternoon of lovemaking.

III

When bathtime came later that evening, as it did every other day in the Shaw household, Victoria’s words from earlier stayed with me. Consequently, my usual workman-like attitude of getting Melinda and Sophia washed and shampooed gave way to a slower, more languid bathing regimen. From the moment the two girls began peeling away the layers of their clothing, I made no effort to avert my gaze.

Melinda was smooth-chested, with pale, creamy skin, the faint shadow of her ribs trailing down to barely-there hips and an adorable little bum. I caught the mere glimpse of a puffy mound and the neat pink crease that divided it, before she leapt into the large bath with a whoop.

Sophia showed the very beginnings of womanhood upon her chest, tentative peaks with little pink nipples at their centre. Her hips were wider than her younger sister’s, but she was as hairless as Melinda between her legs.

As the two girls frolicked in the water, gleefully splashing one another and arguing about who got to use the soap first, I did my best to lather their hair. I usually took great care to keep my clothing dry on these occasions, but that night, paying careful consideration to their naked forms, it didn’t seem such a matter of concern.

I carefully rinsed the soap from Sophia’s hair, then did the same for Melinda, still stealing the occasional glance at their bare bodies.

Sophia gave me a sly grin, then whispered something in her sister’s ear. The two of them began giggling.

“What’re you both conspiring about now?” I said in my best nanny voice.

“Sophia says you keep looking at us!” Melinda tactfully explained.

“Of course I’m looking at you, silly. I can’t very well wash your hair with my eyes closed, can I?”

“You’re looking at us more, though,” Sophia said.

“Am I making you feel shy, then?”

“Not me!” Sophia insisted, and to prove the point she stuck her chest out and pursed her lips at me.

Melinda seemed to find that hilarious. “We don’t care if you look.”

“Oh, what a relief!” I trilled in good-natured sarcasm, and that set the two of them laughing again.

“You should get in with us, Doris! Really, you should!” Sophia said excitedly.

Melinda pulled herself from the water and leaned towards me from the edge of the bath. “Oh, come on, Doris! It’s fun bathing together!”

I smiled and shook my head. “Not tonight, girls. But who knows? Maybe one of these evenings I will jump in with you. And then you can wash my hair for a change!”

“Hurray!” Melinda cried. “Can I be the one to do that?”

“That’s not fair! What about me?” Sophia protested. “If Melly does your hair, can I wash your back? Or…” Her eyes flickered down to my chest, cheeks colouring a little. “Or something else?”

I felt a twinge at her words, but it left me feeling uneasy. Victoria’s seed of a suggestion had taken root without my knowing, and I was seeing her girls in a wholly different light. The beauty of their bare bodies had always been there for me to appreciate, waiting for me to open my eyes. Now that beauty seemed to perfume the air, leaving me lightheaded and very warm.

Realising this was no time to dwell on such things, I reached for a towel and abruptly dried my hands. “Time to get out, girls.”

“Do we have to?” pouted little Melinda.

“We’ve not been in that long,” Sophia chimed in.

“Long enough to be squeaky clean and wrinkly as a prune,” I said, “but I’ll give you another…” I glanced at my watch. “…ten minutes. Fair enough?”

“Thank you, Doris,” a beaming Melinda replied.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy,” I told them, making my escape. “I have a couple of chores that need attending to.”

Upon leaving the bathroom, I slumped back against the door, puzzled and a little alarmed by my own feelings. My skin was tingling, my hands restless – the way I always felt before making love with Victoria. Had the sight of her little girls in the bath done that to me?

A ridiculous notion, I told myself. Why would I feel desire for children? 

I put it down to my newly liberated sexual appetite – repressed for so long, now awakened by my mistress. Like any girl fumbling her way into womanhood, a substantial portion of my brain seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts of making love. That was all well and good, but I was coming to realise that youthful desire is chaotic, often unable to discriminate between objects of lust.

That night I dreamt I was relaxing in the bath with Melinda and Sophia while they lovingly washed me, their soapy fingers exploring every part of my bare body, the two naked cherubs giggling away as they went about it. At some point in my dream, Melinda was reaching up to kiss me, her tongue shyly slipping into my mouth.

When I awoke with a start, my nightdress damp with perspiration and a throbbing heat between my legs, the dream lingered at the edge of my consciousness like an apparition. The images it harboured were undeniably compelling, yet also troubling.

IV

In the days that followed, the very air of Shadowglen seemed charged with sensuality. My love and desire for Victoria burned brightly as ever, but now I found my thoughts drifting to the girls as well, seeing them in a wholly different way. I’d always thought of the Shaw girls as pretty. Now, I truly saw that beauty; felt it resonate in my soul like a piece of much-loved music.

After bathing Sophia and Melinda on that special night, I quickly came to enjoy seeing them naked. Even the sight of the girls dressing or undressing stirred something inside me. At first I was able to convince myself there was nothing sexual about these feelings, that I appreciated their bare bodies as vessels of beauty and nothing more.

I recalled Victoria telling me every girl’s naked form was unique, like a flower. I clung fast to those words, trying to believe the interest I felt was healthy curiosity. Even then, I knew it was more than that, but managed to bury those thoughts deep inside, refusing to recognise them as mine.

This denial grew increasingly difficult to maintain with each passing night, though, thanks to eleven-year-old Sophia. She’d been quick to notice my awakened interest in their nudity, and it seemed to intrigue her. Now she seemed particularly inclined to put her body on display for me.

When I first began to supervise the girls’ bath time, she and Melinda were always quick to disrobe and climb into the tub, then promptly wrap themselves in towels upon emerging. Now, though, Sophia often lingered about in the altogether before and after her bath. Sometimes she would casually perch on the tub’s edge, or jump out and pace about, claiming the water was hotter than she liked.

I could clearly see what the little minx was doing, but wasn’t sure why. Was this a game to her? Was she angling for some kind of response? Sophia knew little when it came to matters of sex – of that I was fairly certain. Still, when she flaunted her nakedness in my presence, I couldn’t help but wonder if the feeling it gave her was sexual in nature, even if she didn’t recognise it as such. She was, after all, reaching an age when she must surely be starting to consider such things.

Then there was Becky, the eldest, who was ripening deliciously into womanhood. She hadn’t shared the bath with her sisters for a couple of years, so I had yet to glimpse her in the nude. Yet the memory of the fourteen-year-old in her underthings, so close to me in the shop changing stall, lingered, and I found myself lamenting her absence when we bathed. I tried to come up with some plausible reason that might persuade her to join us, but never had the nerve to ask. Still, I stubbornly refused to acknowledge these hidden cravings for what they really were.

What finally pushed me over the line took place a week later, the fourth night I’d bathed the girls with these ideas of Victoria’s fluttering about in my head. I’d already washed Melinda’s hair, and was now occupied with Sophia’s.

In a corner of the room there were a few rubber bath toys – mostly Melinda’s, though one of them belonged to Sophia, a smiling blue whale named Jasper. Its colours were faded and one of the flippers was missing, but she insisted on keeping the toy, occasionally bringing it into the water with her.

Her hair rinsed clean of soap, Sophia settled back into the tub with a blissful sigh, her eyes closed. When she opened them again they were fixed upon me, bright and mischievous. When the corners of her mouth curled up into a little smirk, I suspected a game was afoot.

Sure enough, a brief moment later she sat upright and announced, “We’ve not had Jasper in the bath for a good while, have we? I’m sure he’d fancy a bit of a splash about.”

I moved to fetch the toy for her, but I was too slow. Sophia emerged dripping from the water, declaring, “I’ll get it!”

What a lovely sight she was, tossing her wet hair as she padded over to the corner, her skin gleaming like a new penny. She stood before the mixed toys for a moment, then went down on both knees, bum thrust outward while she rummaged through the pile.

I nearly gasped out loud. From where I sat, I had a perfect view of her girly bits; the rosy cleft of her sex, the darker whorl of her anus. Sophia was an active girl, nearly always in motion, so what I’d seen of her privates was limited to mere glimpses. Now the child had put herself on full display… and the quick glance she gave me over her shoulder made it abundantly clear she’d done so intentionally.

I felt my face grow hot, and a deep, familiar throbbing commenced beneath my belly. I was aflame with lust, wanting nothing so much as to creep up behind Victoria’s eleven-year-old daughter and apply my tongue to her pretty pink holes, each in turn. Would she taste like her mother? I wondered. In fact, I ached to know.

Now I could no longer ignore the truth about the feelings the girls had awakened in me. My mistress had taught me to see their beauty with fresh eyes, yet I’d denied the effect that beauty had on me – or rather, refused to recognise it for what it was. Whether it was Victoria’s intention that I regard her daughters through a lens of sexuality was another matter entirely, and only added to my dilemma.

But I loved Sophia. I loved Melinda. And I wanted to be intimate with them both, I realised. To kiss their sweet mouths. To fondle their young bodies. To taste their juicy slits, even their bumholes. To teach them what their mother had taught me – how one woman can pleasure another.

All this raced through my mind as Sophia plucked the blue whale from the pile. Needless to say, the toy had been within easy reach all along. I tried to compose myself as she scampered back to the tub and leapt in. The gleam I saw in her eyes was one of triumph, but I don’t imagine she was fully aware of how she’d shaken me to the core.

“If you don’t close your mouth, Doris, you’ll swallow a fly,” Melinda said, and the two girls tittered together.

The rest of the girls’ bath was something of a blur to me, save for towelling them down afterward. This time my movements felt more like caresses, damp terrycloth the only barrier between their bare bodies and my hands.

Finally, they padded from the room, no doubt off to play. As for me, I had business of my own to attend to. I quickly tidied the bath area, then hastened down the hallway to the small water closet.

Closing and bolting the door, I hoisted up the tweed skirt I wore and tugged my knickers down and off, then sat back on the lavatory.

I wasted no time in mauling my cunt, using the palm of my hand instead of fingers, masturbating harder and more fiercely than ever before and not much caring if it hurt. Images of Sophia and Melinda spun through my mind like a crazed carousel, both girls still gloriously nude, and me nude with them.

I allowed my innermost feelings to run rampant, revelling in visions of shared ecstasy. I pictured myself kissing the girls, my tongue darting into their mouths, their lips parting to receive me.

Within seconds I was coming, a hand clamped over my mouth to stifle my hoarse cries.

Once the storm had passed, I found myself slumped against the wall, gasping for breath, wondering how my life had come to this pass.

V

Most nights, Victoria and I would come together to make love after the girls had gone to bed, usually in her room. But on that evening, my mistress was feeling poorly – she had her menses, accompanied by a rather severe headache. After dinner, she only wanted to lie quietly with a damp flannel on her forehead.

I accompanied Victoria to her room and helped her to settle in, then read to her for a while. Finally, she dismissed me with a tender kiss.

Truth be told, I didn’t mind having that particular evening to myself. I wanted time to reflect on the feelings I had for Victoria’s daughters – all three of them.

Returning to my room, I stripped naked, then crawled beneath the cool sheets of the bed.

That afternoon, I’d brought myself off hard and fast in the stuffy confines of the water closet. Now, I would take my time, play my body like the divine instrument of pleasure it was. I would allow the images to come freely this time, place no boundaries on the fantasies my mind chose to conjure, letting them churn and swirl and percolate. And all the while, my thoughts would be of Melinda, Sophia and Becky.

Closing my eyes, I pictured the two youngest in bed with me, deciding to bring their big sister into the fantasy later. My little angels were nude, of course, and ready to play a new, very different game.

In the prism of my aroused mind I indulged in every conceivable sexual delight with Melinda and Sophia, all the skills I’d mastered under Victoria’s tutelage, and others of my own perverted imaginings, coming into play. Nothing was forbidden to me. I kissed, fondled, smelled, nibbled and tasted my young lovers, making music of their ecstatic whimpers and cries.

They taunted me with wicked smiles and open legs, bare vaginas displayed as exquisite offerings, prised apart with little fingers. And while I made love to the girls in my imagination, I did the same to myself in the here and now, spinning and weaving a tapestry of ecstasy upon the hot moist loom of my cunt. Again and again I brought myself to the very edge of release, pausing at the last moment, then retreating once more to begin another ascent.

Eventually, my body throbbing and slick with perspiration, I summoned up Becky, picturing Victoria’s eldest gazing at me in unconcealed lust as I stood naked before her. She allowed me to remove her clothing – her underthings exactly as they had been that day in the narrow confines of the shop changing booth – then we came together as lovers.

I was fingering my clitoris, charging headlong toward the precipice, ready to come. The final vision I invoked, the one that would bring me to that place of release, was Becky and I head to tail, each feasting upon the cunt of the other.

The storm seemed to brood inside me, deepening, steadily growing, soon to explode. When my climax arrived, it shook me until my teeth rattled, but still I kept going, my wrist and arm pumping wildly until I was coming a second time. I rode it as hard and as far as it could go, until my strength suddenly gave out.

For no real reason, I found myself crying in the aftermath. Why? I had no idea. Perhaps a physical release of that intensity had to have an emotional equivalent as well.

My tears quickly passed, replaced by a satisfying weariness. By then, the sheets were sodden, and I was still glazed in perspiration myself. So I simply covered them with the blanket, stretched out on top of it and dozed off.

VI

The next morning, I was caught up in what almost felt like a fever – lightheaded, pulse racing, unsteady on my feet and clumsy-handed. In truth, I was consumed by helpless lust, assailed by memories of the night before.

While I prepared myself for the new day, standing nude before the bathroom mirror as I washed my face and body at the sink, the passing of the sponge over my breasts and sex were exquisite torture.

The temptation to masturbate was fierce, but more than that, my soul cried out for the hands, mouth, and body of Victoria. I prayed to whatever dark god I now served that my mistress was in better spirits, her headache gone. Quickly dressing, I hastened down to breakfast.

My heart leapt with joy when Victoria appeared at the dining table, smiling and rosy-cheeked. Soon, the three girls were filing into the room. We exchanged morning greetings before seating ourselves and tucking in to bacon and eggs.

That hunger for release continued to simmer inside me as we ate and chatted; enough that I was scarcely able to hold up my end of the conversation. Somehow I got through the meal, then hurried Melinda and Sophia upstairs to ready them for school.

It took more than an hour before I was able to get Victoria on her own. I found my lady in the front parlour, arranging posies in a fluted glass vase. She glanced up at me, her eyes widening at what she saw. By then, my hunger for her was honed to a razor-sharp edge that must have been immediately apparent.

This time, I seized the initiative, moving toward her with a determined stride, taking the woman in my arms and claiming her mouth in a hard, fiery kiss. She swayed slightly, relaxing in my embrace, allowing me to claim her. Then I felt fingers unhooking my skirt.

We coupled like animals on the parlour floor, the cold, hard tiles a distant concern in the heat of the wild passion that demanded tribute.

Victoria urged me on breathlessly, each uttered obscenity invoked like the words of some forbidden spell. “Fuck me, Doris. Fuck me!”

I gave my mistress what she wanted, breath hissing through my clenched teeth as I thrust two fingers in and out of her cunt. She was juicy as a ripe peach, and my hand was soon slick with her essence.

I felt intoxicated by a sense of brute power that surged through my body like electricity. Soon enough, I found myself responding to her entreaties, my voice a husky growl. “Is this what you want, Victoria? Mmm? Do you like it when I fuck you this way?”

When Victoria spent, her cries seemed to reverberate through Shadowglen. By then, my own arousal was so intense that I came with her, simply by the act of pressing my thighs together. A violent tremor rippled through me, until we both yielded to exhaustion, sprawled upon the floor and gasping for breath.

In the past, Victoria and I seldom lingered together for very long once we’d taken our pleasure. I suppose once that lustful fire had run its course, there was the matter of returning to our designated roles of mistress and servant. In bed we are equals, she’d told me, and I didn’t doubt her sincerity, but I still felt a hint of awkwardness when things returned to their usual status.

This time was different. Victoria stood and offered her hand, helping me to my feet, then leading me to the large sofa, where we stretched out, nestled in each other’s arms. There we relaxed for a long, lovely while. Few words were spoken – somehow, they weren’t needed. But we did share lazy caresses and the occasional kiss.

Yet again, I felt the longing to bare my soul, to tell Victoria how desperately I adored her. And once more, I held my tongue. This moment was one of such unalloyed bliss that I couldn’t allow myself to run the risk of spoiling it by declaring a love that must surely be unrequited.

A strand of melancholy wound its way through my soul at the thought of that looming day when the bliss I’d found at Shadowglen might be snatched from me. But I forced it from my mind, determined to savour this moment of happiness with the woman I loved.

Eventually, Victoria began to stir. “We’d best get dressed,” she murmured, peering at the grandfather clock. “Mrs. Broomfield will be here soon.”

We slipped our clothes back on in silence, then Victoria caught me by surprise, twining her arms around my waist from behind, her lips brushing my neck. I gasped, overwhelmed by a surge of renewed desire. Turning around in my lady’s embrace, I sought her mouth with mine.

At that instant, I wanted nothing more than to enjoy Victoria again. But afternoon was upon us, the cook’s arrival imminent. So when we finally parted, I gave my lady a nod and left the room, making my way down to the kitchen to convey instructions for the evening meal to Mrs. Broomfield, my mind a crazy-quilt jumble of emotions.

VII

That day proved to be a happy turning point in my relationship with Mrs. Shaw.

Victoria had always been kind, but now there was a warmth to our day-to-day dealings that nearly undid me. There were many more casual touches when in the presence of the girls, her hand brushing an arm or a shoulder in ways that never failed to quicken my pulse. Then there were the looks she gave me, looks that spoke of much more than the polite, warm consideration I was accustomed to. There was a kind of newfound fascination to my lady’s regard, as if she were truly seeing me for the first time.

And when it was just the two of us, my mistress seemed capable of anything. I could be dusting the shelves, making the beds, even reading quietly in the study, and Victoria would steal upon me like a mischievous pixie, claiming me with a kiss upon the neck. Other times she would stalk me like a beast of prey, her eyes burning into mine. Then she might bury her face in my hair, cup my breasts, crush her mouth to mine in a ravenous kiss, or draw me into her arms for the gentlest of hugs.

One quiet afternoon I was lost in a reverie whilst washing dishes, the lazy sun spilling gold through the window. Before I knew what was what, Victoria had crept up from behind, hoisted my skirt with a sharp tug and thrust a hand down into the back of my knickers. I nearly swooned, my choked cry ringing through the kitchen as she thrust her fingers into my cunt, causing me to spend within seconds. After regaining my breath, I went to my knees, backed Victoria against the sink and parted her house dress to find my lady stark naked. Without a word, I buried my mouth in her dark curls and feasted on the syrupy flesh until she came.

There was a distinctive difference in our lovemaking, too. The act itself was astonishing as ever, but now we spent more time basking in passion’s aftermath, entwined skin to skin, gazing into one another’s eyes, taking pleasure in each other’s company.

We spent more time together outside the bedroom, too. When the day’s chores were done, sometimes with Victoria lending a hand, she and I would adjourn to her study and spend a quiet hour reading, though it could be difficult to focus on our books if our desire had yet to run its course that day. Our literary pursuits might be discarded in favour of a heated fuck on the rug, our clothes scattered willy-nilly.

On days when the weather was pleasant and the girls at school, Victoria would sometimes invite me to relax with her in the beautifully kept gardens of Shadowglen. Old Mr. Farnsworth came several days a week to maintain the grounds; otherwise, we were assured of perfect privacy.

There was one particularly lovely spot near an ancient oak that we liked best of all. I would fetch something to nibble from the kitchen, she would choose a bottle of wine from her generous cellar, and together we’d leave the house by the back door, making our way to the grand old tree. There we would spread a blanket, then enjoy a light snack and a few glasses of noble vintage before undressing and making love.

The wine and the pleasure we shared never failed to leave me lightheaded; then again, I seemed to be in a constant state of intoxication, overwhelmed by my love of Victoria, as well as the secret attraction I had for her daughters. I tried to savour these joys while I was able, doing my best not to think about my time at Shadowglen winding down to its inevitable end.

Come what may, at least I’ve tasted true happiness, I told myself. In this life, precious few get even that much.

On to Chapter Five!

A brief summary of what has transpired thus far. (To get a more detailed breakdown of the story, please see the Ripples Chapter Links… and for a list of the many characters who populate this saga, check out The Women and Girls of Ripples.)

Divorced mother Jessica has found a new identity as a lesbian, becoming the lover of her friend Rachel, as well as her three daughters Alice (12), Katie (9), and Poppy (7). At the same time, Rachel has found sexual intimacy with her own girls Bella (12) and Cindy (10), and they have all elected to come together as one big incestuous family.

Not long after that, Jessica’s younger sister Laura pays an unexpected visit and catches them all in the midst of their first family orgy. Despite her shock at what she saw, Laura was seduced later that night by the three youngest daughters, and eventually ends up joining in the family festivities.

Jess has an openly gay friend named Stella. She has twin daughters named Sienna and Lacey (both fourteen) who have flirted shamelessly with Jessica and her oldest daughter Alice. Alice suspects that the twins are sexually involved with their mother Stella, who she is very much attracted to herself.

As it transpires, Stella and her daughters are members of a secret society of local women who enjoy lesbian sex — especially with younger girls, including their daughters. Now that Jess has officially come out in her relationship with Rachel, Stella is looking to bring her, Rachel and both their families into the Society.

Stella lays her cards on the table: she suspects Jess and Rachel of having incestuous relations with one or more of their girls, and proposes bringing their combined families together for a sex party (though she has yet to tell Jess anything about the Society just yet). Jess is open to the idea, and tentative plans are made.

In the meantime, Jess and Laura’s mother Ann has just returned from a lengthy sea cruise. Laura informs her sister of a secret their mum told her: that she herself has recently explored lesbian sex with a much younger woman. This gets Jess thinking about the possibility of getting Ann to join in their incestuous relationship. She, Laura and Rachel discuss the idea, where they are overheard by Jessica’s seven-year-old daughter Poppy, who is intrigued by the possibility of sex with her grandmother.

When Ann arrives, Jess informs her mother that she is in a committed relationship with Rachel, and now considers herself gay. Ann is delighted for her daughter, especially since she already knows and likes Rachel. Later that night, Ann tells Jess about her night of passion with Gina, a woman in her twenties who she met online by accidentally visiting the Woman Seeking Woman page at on online dating site.

Later, when she is tucked up in bed, Ann masturbates while remembering her sexual encounter with Gina. But we soon learn that she later had a second sexual encounter with a woman, one she has yet to speak of to her daughters, with a French woman named Colette who she’d met on her ocean cruise.

Ann especially recalls one very special encounter with Colette. They’re in bed and making love when Ann glances up to see her partner’s eleven-year-old daughter Coralie standing in the entrance, watching them fuck. Colette doesn’t notice the girl’s presence, but Ann is mesmerised — and turned on, in spite of herself.

The next day, Ann is approached by Coralie. who briefly exposes herself, then admits that she is attracted to women, especially her own mother. Ann is shocked, but promises to keep the girl’s secret.

And that, dear readers, is where this installment kicks off. Read on…

   ***

by Sapphmore and JetBoy

Blurred images swirled around Ann Clark’s head as the night’s fitful sleep ebbed away. As they began to sharpen, she saw the face of Colette, her Parisienne friend and lesbian mentor. As the images became clearer still, memories of that incredible night came faster, finally freezing on the image of Colette’s eleven-year-old daughter, touching her immature slit as she watched her mother and Ann make love.

The morning light began to filter through her eyelids, and her ears picked up the chatter of birds in the tree outside the bedroom window, followed by the faint sounds of a waking household. As her limbs began their slow waking stretch and her eyes fluttered open, Ann’s usual languid awakening was interrupted by the sudden opening of her door, followed by the jolt of someone jumping onto the bed.

A child’s cheerful voice exclaimed, “Morning, Nonna!”

Ann rubbed her eyes, but even before she could fully focus on the figure, she knew who it was. “Hello, Poppet. What time is it?”

“Nearly eight o’clock. Mummy’s making breakfast, an’ I didn’t want you to not get any.”

As Ann got her first look at the girl, she noticed Poppy wasn’t looking at her face, but lower. Glancing down, she realised the quilt was rolled back, leaving her breasts fully exposed. Oh, bugger, she thought, quickly covering herself.

Poppy studied her grandmother with interest, “How come you’re not wearing a nightie, Nonna?”

“Oh… I was hot last night.”

Before her seven-year-old inquisitor could ask another question, Jessica entered the room, then folded her arms at the sight of her daughter. “Poppy, let your gran wake up before you jump all over her!”

“I didn’t jump all over her, Mummy!” Poppy protested. “I sat down next to her.”

“All right, all right. Go wash your face, sweetie, then go downstairs for breakfast.”

“Okay. Bye, Nonna!” the little girl chirped, then skipped off to her room.

Jess turned to her mother. “Sorry, Mum. She can be a bit of a handful…”

“Don’t you dare apologise, Jess. It feels so good to be back with you and the girls. The cruise was lovely, but I missed my family.”

“And we missed you,” Jessica murmured, gazing fondly at her mother. “Remember, I’m taking Alice and Katie to the dentist this morning, so you’ll have Poppy all to yourself.” She chuckled. “You’ll probably be begging to go home after a couple of hours trying to keep that one entertained!”

“Oh, you go get your other two sorted out. I’m sure we’ll have fun.”

Jessica glanced back at the bathroom doorway as Poppy went inside. Yes, but what kind of fun does my youngest want to have? I swear, that girl’s up to something.

“All right, then, Mum. Breakfast is ready whenever you are.” With that, Jess left the room, quietly closing the door behind her.

Ann lay back, staring up at the ceiling for a moment, her thoughts returning to Colette and her little girl Coralie.

The end of the cruise was an epiphany for Ann, a change of lifestyle that had never crossed her mind until the evening she’d spent with Gina before her holiday. Now, though, her mind seemed to dwell obsessively on the subject of sex with women. She almost fell back into a dreamy sleep as she recalled the pleasures Colette had bestowed upon her, opening new possibilities that she was eager to explore.

The one firm decision she’d made was to spend more time enjoying life… and waking up next to a lover for the first time in five years had been a huge step in the right direction. The fact that her bed partner was another woman only expanded her options.

Shaking her head in awe, Ann wondered, Do women my age really decide to become lesbians?

Then again, does age have anything to do with it? Both my daughters are gay, my eldest granddaughter has a girlfriend, and I’m giving serious consideration to giving up men. Either there’s something in the water, or there’s a hereditary gene in the family. Even Katie and Poppy said they were more interested in girls than boys…

A gleeful shout from the hallway snapped her back to reality. Putting the pleasant memories and the internal debate about her sexuality aside for the moment, Ann threw back the quilt and swung her legs to the floor. Going to the dressing table, she picked up the satin nightie she’d draped over the back of the chair and put it on, followed by the dressing gown hanging behind the door and her slippers. After a quick face wash and brush of her hair in the bathroom between her room and Poppy’s, she went downstairs to join the others for breakfast.

As she drank the steaming filter coffee, she basked in the familiar, joyous cacophony of three young girls talking at once. Jess noticed, and said, “What are you smiling at, Mum?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about how much I missed this. It was mostly very quiet on the cruise except for the hum of the engines, but sitting here with three crazy granddaughters all trying to talk over each other about things I haven’t got a clue about is… well, it’s nice to be back in the real world.”

“We’re glad you are too.” She turned to her daughters. “Alice, Katie, you two need to get showered and dressed. Mum, don’t you want anything for breakfast besides coffee?”

“No, thank you, dear, this is fine. I’ll have a bath in a little while. How soon do you need to leave?”

Jess glanced at her watch. “In just under an hour, then after the dentist I just need to pop into the shop for a few minutes, if that’s okay.”

“Take as long as you like, dear. Poppy and I will find something to do.”

As Jess turned to the sink to start washing up, she made a note to have a word with her youngest once she returned from the dentist. Time to remind my little sexpot what we discussed the other night.

After breakfast, Ann decided to sit in the garden for a while before it got too hot. She refilled her coffee cup before picking up one of Jessica’s fashion magazines from the living room. As she sat reading at the bistro table, flicking through the pages, it suddenly occurred to her that she was lingering on the model spreads instead of perusing articles as she normally did. She was especially taken with a series of photos featuring two girls draped over each other in contrasting evening wear and lingerie. Something about their poses hinted that the girls were playing out a scenario of seduction.

Ann stared at one particular shot where the girl in lingerie was giving the camera a tantalising glimpse of her breasts. God, she’s lovely. Suddenly irked, she tossed the magazine onto the table. Is this my life now… staring at women everywhere I go?

A few minutes later, Poppy came out to the garden to join her gran, a book under her arm. Taking a chair next to Ann, she leafed through the book, occasionally making small talk, sometimes asking random questions.

Before long Jess came out to say, “Okay, we’re off. Mum, I’ll pick up a couple of bits from the supermarket for lunch, so we’ll probably be out for a couple of hours. Poppy, be good for your gran.”

Poppy stared up at her mother with a look of complete innocence. “But Mum… I’m always good.”

Aren’t you just! “Hmm… I just might beg to differ, young lady.” Giving her mother and daughter a wave, Jess went back indoors. A couple of minutes later, Ann and Poppy heard the family car exit the garage.

After reading for a while, Ann put her magazine to one side. She glanced up, then her attention was captured by the sight of a few dead flower heads in the garden. Clucking her tongue, she got to her feet. “Poppy, dear… can you please get the key to the shed from the kitchen drawer?”

“Sure, Nonna!” And the child scurried into the house.

Ann and her husband had helped build Jessica’s garden, as well as their own. Since Richard’s death, she’d employed a local man to keep hers in shape. Jess occasionally put some time in on hers, but it was clear that she hadn’t touched it in a month, at least.

Perfect, Ann told herself as Poppy came racing back, the key in hand. Exactly what I feel like doing right now.

After a brief search in the shed, Ann located the pruning shears, a pair of canvas gloves and a bucket. “There we are,” she murmured. Emerging into the sunlight, she beamed at her granddaughter. “Want to be your gran’s gardening assistant?”

“Yes!” Poppy exclaimed, snapping to attention. “Assistant Garden Girl Poppy, reporting for duty!”

“Well done!” a pleased Ann replied. “Let’s have at it, then.”

For the next half hour or so, Poppy accompanied her grandmother round the garden as Ann deadheaded flowers, tidied up stems and trimmed back brambles, sharing her plant lore with the child along the way. Poppy carried the bucket, which she filled with the cuttings and dead flower heads.

Finally depositing the detritus in the garden bin, Ann returned her gear to the shed, then she and Poppy went inside and washed their hands. Pouring themselves glasses of ice water, they wandered into the family room to relax. Poppy switched on the TV, then sprawled out on the floor to watch cartoons, while Ann seated herself on the sofa and picked up a coffee table book of David Hockney paintings to peruse.

A few minutes later, Ann noticed her granddaughter was wriggling a little. On the verge of asking Poppy if she was all right, the words froze in her mouth at what she saw. The child’s skirt had ridden up far enough to reveal that she’d gone without knickers.

From where she sat, Ann had a clear view of the child’s bare bum beneath her short skirt… and when Poppy spread her legs a bit, it became instantly apparent that she was masturbating. Ann could only stare in disbelief as she watched the little girl stroke her bare slit with two fingers.

Ann knew she ought to ask Poppy what she was doing and why she was naked beneath her skirt… but she hesitated instead, shocked but mesmerised by the sight of her seven-year-old granddaughter touching herself so openly. It brought back the memory of Colette’s child Coralie, standing in the doorway, fingering her immature sex as she watched her mum fuck another woman.

These combined images sent a delicious shiver through Ann’s body, a shiver that felt far too close to arousal for her liking. Flustered, she was unable to prevent a tiny squeak from escaping her throat. Poppy looked back over her shoulder, but Ann managed to compose herself quickly, turning the sound into a cough.

Returning the Hockney book to the table, Ann rose on unsteady legs, avoiding her granddaughter’s gaze. “Poppy dear, I… I think I’ll have a bath. I’ll be back down soon.”

“Okay, Nonna.”

As Ann made her way toward the stairs, glancing back to see Poppy still on her tummy, now with both elbows on the floor, chin resting in her palms. She got another shock, though, when she noticed that her little poppet was sucking on the fingers that had just been caressing her sex.

If she’d caught sight of the reflection in the mirrored door of a nearby cabinet, Ann might have seen a satisfied smile on her granddaughter’s face.

***

After running the water for the bath, Ann went to her room to change back into her dressing gown and collect her bath things. Returning to the bathroom, she hung up her robe and closed the door, then decided to leave it slightly open in case Poppy called for her.

She poured a measure of citrus-scented bubble bath into the water, then swished it around. When the bath was filled and the water temperature ideal, she carefully stepped into the tub and lay back, basking in the soothing heat.

With little else to occupy her thoughts, Ann allowed herself to return to the image of her masturbating granddaughter, but the child’s face kept switching between that of Poppy and Coralie. She recalled her conversation with the beautiful little French girl when Colette had left them alone, and Coralie had confessed to harbouring a sexual attraction to her own mother.

Now Ann wondered if Coralie had ever summoned up the courage to act on that desire. She pictured the eleven-year-old standing before her mum, dress raised to expose her smooth sex, whispering, “I love you, Maman.”

Truth be told, Ann felt a certain measure of guilt for not having discouraged Coralie from lusting after her mother. It’s what she was supposed to have done, that much was certain. But for some reason she couldn’t quite fathom, the girl’s incestuous longing didn’t disturb her as much as it ought to have done.

Obviously, they shouldn’t have sex, Ann told herself. But there is something sweet, even touching about a young girl loving her mummy that much. She just wants their relationship to be… more. Colette just has to gently tell Coralie it’s good for mothers and daughters to be close, but not to the point of becoming lovers.

Would Colette actually do that, though – tell Coralie no? Ann then wondered. She’s such a sexual creature… bold as brass, that one. Is there a chance she’d give in, let her little girl have what she wanted?

A new image flashed like lightning in her mind, one too intense to be pushed away before it materialised. They were on the cruise again, in Colette’s cabin… but this time Ann was the voyeur, watching Coralie make love to her mother, fondling her cunt to the sight. And rather than feeling appalled, Ann found herself shivering with arousal, despite the warmth of the bath water.

I shouldn’t… Bloody hell, I really shouldn’t.

But Ann’s hand was already on the move. She let it glide up and down her left thigh, then the right before pressing it against her throbbing vulva. With the other hand, she cupped a breast, her thumb rolling over a nipple until it stiffened.

Yet again, Ann found herself caught up in the memory of that first night with Colette, when her lover’s little girl had watched them fuck. There it was, that image of Coralie fingering her childish sex as she watched Ann and her mum engaging in mutual cunnilingus.

I really shouldn’t be thinking about that, Ann told herself, even as she curved a finger into her vagina. StilI, I wonder… why does it excite me?

She wanted to believe it was all about the thrill of having a witness to her lewd behaviour. It’s not because I was being watched by an eleven-year-old girl. And it’s not because the girl in question was having lustful thoughts about me… and her mother.

Still, Ann wondered what it would be like for a mother and daughter to make love. She imagined Coralie standing in the doorway, just as she was on that night… only this time, the girl let her nightie fall to the floor to reveal her naked form. Padding over to where her mum and Ann were nestled in each other’s arms, she climbed into bed to join the older lovers.

This was a dirty, perverse, utterly immoral fantasy, and against her better judgement, Ann was caught up in it, probing her vagina with two fingers as her imagination ran rampant.

She pictured Colette sitting up to smile at her daughter. “Mon précieux petite fille,” she whispered, then gave the girl a tender kiss that quickly grew heated.

They finally parted, and Coralie turned to Ann with a bashful smile. “May I kiss you now?”

Submitting to this crazy fantasy, Ann slowly nodded. The child slowly approached, her lips parting…

Then, out of nowhere, Coralie’s face then switched to that of Poppy.

The effect was like an ice-cold slap in the face. Ann jerked upright in the tub, abruptly withdrawing her fingers from her vagina. For heaven’s sake! she thought, appalled by the depraved turn her mind had taken.

Opening her eyes, she gasped when she saw that, as if sent by some mischievous sprite, Poppy had entered the room and was standing next to the tub. “Hi, Nonna!” she exclaimed.

“Goodness, Poppy! You startled me. It’s always best to knock before you enter a bathroom, you know. Er, what is it, dear?”

Hugging herself, the child said, “Mummy said I should have a bath. Can I get in with you?”

At that particular juncture, Poppy’s proposal didn’t seem like the best idea. “Wouldn’t you rather wait? I can run you a fresh bath when I’ve finished.”

“But I’d rather take a bath with you, Nonna!” Poppy replied, beaming at her gran. “It’ll be fun! We can wash each other’s backs. ‘Sides, it’ll save water. My teacher says that’s a good thing!”

She’d always found it difficult to say no to her granddaughters. “Erm, yes… well, in that case, I suppose you can.”

“Yay! Thanks, Gran.” And before Ann could formulate some kind of reply, Poppy shrugged out of her Spice Girls tee, which she placed on the toilet, then unfastened and removed her denim skirt. The child was already barefoot, so this left her completely naked. Fetching herself a clean towel from the airing cupboard and putting it with Ann’s, Poppy carefully climbed into the tub, lifting her leg over the edge.

In spite of herself, Ann found her gaze drawn between Poppy’s legs, a twinge of warmth passing through her at the sight of her granddaughter’s bare slit. Shocked, she gave her head a tiny shake in an attempt to purge these bizarre thoughts.

Poppy tested the water with her foot before bringing her other leg over. She stood facing her gran for a couple of heartbeats before slowly lowering herself into the water. Reaching for a sponge, she immersed it in the tub, then squeezed the warm water over her shoulders.

Studying the child for a moment, Ann reassured herself. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s all to do with these new feelings you have for women. You’ve been noticing beautiful females more and more of late, so why shouldn’t you notice beautiful little girls as well? Poppy is a lovely child, utterly exquisite… but that certainly doesn’t mean you’re having inappropriate ideas about her!

Still, Ann found it somewhat unsettling to see such a young girl as a sexual creature. But that kind of thing seemed to be happening regularly of late. First, there was the lewd display Coralie had put on for her that night of the cruise. Then Alice, her twelve-year-old granddaughter, had got herself into a lesbian relationship with her best friend Bella. And minutes ago, she’d watched little Poppy masturbate.

It’s a strange coincidence, that’s for certain… When I was that age, I barely knew what sex was!

Just then, Poppy broke into Ann’s reverie. “Nonna? Can you wash my back, please?” The child was peering up at her gran, a soapy sponge clutched in her right hand.

Toying with Poppy’s bright red hair, Ann murmured, “It’s been a long time since I’ve done that for you, sweetheart. A few years, at least!”

“I like it!” said the seven-year-old. “If you lived with us, we could take baths together all the time.”

“Well, yes, that would be nice… I must say, though, you’re getting a bit big to have someone bathe you.”

“But it’s so much better if there’s someone else in the tub,” Poppy declared. “Me and Katie love to take our baths together. She washes me all over!”

Ann’s reply died on her lips. She stared at the child. Wait a minute, is she saying… Oh, don’t be ridiculous, woman. You can’t make every single, solitary thing about sex!

Taking a deep breath, she said, “All right, dear… Turn around, and I’ll wash your back.”

Handing Ann the sponge, Poppy swivelled round until she was seated between her gran’s legs. Despite having bathed all her granddaughters when they were little, Ann felt somewhat flustered this time. She briefly closed her eyes, then began soaping the little girl.

Once she’d finished sponging and rinsing off the suds, Poppy suddenly stood up, then turned around. “Can you do my front, Nonna?”

That was farther than Ann cared to go. “I think you’re big enough to wash yourself there, sweetheart.”

“But I saw a film about Queen Cleopatra… and she had a bath in milk with maids washing her! Can we maybe pretend I’m the queen, just this once? Pretty please?”

That bashful smile, those plaintive eyes… Once again, Ann found herself incapable of refusing Poppy’s wishes. “Well, your highness, I suppose if it’s good enough for Cleopatra, it’s good enough for you.”

Dipping the sponge into the water, Ann drizzled it with soap, then began to lather her granddaughter’s upper half. She tried not to linger on any one part, at least.

Poppy gave a tiny squeal when the sponge swept over her nipples… then, when Gran briefly soaped her slit,  she sighed, “This is so nice, Nonna. I wish you could give me all my baths.”

Ann had to admit that she was enjoying this too, yet it felt distinctly different from the satisfaction she got bathing her daughters and granddaughters when they were much younger. Of course, I wasn’t actually stark naked and in the bath with them at the time. 

There’s one other big difference between then and now: I wasn’t having sex with women in those days, or toying with the idea that I’m gay. But that’s got nothing to do with this, nothing at all! I’m just giving Poppy a bath, the same way I did when she was little.

Turning away from her grandmother, Poppy presented her pert buttocks to Ann. “Wash my bum, Nonna. You didn’t do that bit yet… ‘cos I was sitting on it!” She gave a gleeful laugh, grinning over a shoulder as she worked her hips from side to side.

Dipping the sponge in the bathwater, Ann frowned. Poppy’s behaving so strangely… almost as if she’s flirting with me. Or maybe she’s only pretending to flirt.

She began to apply soap to her granddaughter’s bottom and the backs of Poppy’s thighs, still wondering about the child’s odd behaviour. Could she be attracted to other girls? Or even women? No. that’s silly, she’s only seven. I doubt she’s interested in much more than kissing, if even that.

Patting Poppy’s hip, Ann murmured, “There, dearest. I’d say you’ve been washed to a fare-thee-well. Now sit back down, and we’ll get all that soap rinsed off.”

Poppy obligingly seated herself, and Ann gently splashed water over the little girl’s shoulders. “And there you are, love – shiny and bright as a new penny.”

Spinning around to face her gran, Poppy reached for the bottle of bath soap. “Now I’ll wash you, Nonna!”

Taken aback, Ann stammered. “You d-don’t have to do that! Come on, sweetie… let’s get out before the water goes cold.”

“The child gave her head a firm shake. “We can’t, not yet – you have to take your turn being Cleopatra! That’s the game.”

Before Ann could form a coherent reply, Poppy clambered onto the edge of the bath, then reached out to apply a handful of creamy lather to her grandmother’s chest.

Brow furrowed, concentrating on her task, Poppy coated Ann’s breasts with soap, pausing to say, “Lift your arms, Nonna… then I can wash under ‘em.” As if she was the child and Poppy the adult, Ann meekly did as asked.

Poppy moved closer, smearing lather under Ann’s arms, then circling both hands over and around her gran’s generous breasts, murmuring, “Nice… and… clean.” Once Ann’s chest was soaped to her satisfaction, the child used handfuls of bathwater to rinse the suds away. That task accomplished, Poppy sat back and studied her grandmother’s breasts, then down at her own thin frame.

Pulling on her nipples, she looked up at her gran. “Nonna, do you think I’ll ever have big boobies like yours?”

Ann had to smile. “Well, I suppose you might when you’re older. To be honest, though, having big breasts isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. They can really limit your movements… and if they’re especially heavy, you can develop back problems. Oh, and they do tend to droop when you get to be my age.”

“But yours aren’t like that.” As she spoke, Poppy surprised Ann by reaching out to lift her grandmother’s breasts with both hands, as if testing their heft.

Ann was momentarily lost for words, but managed to recover. “Mine aren’t so very big, sweetie. Come on now, let’s get out of this tub and dried off before we start looking like two wrinkled prunes.” She carefully got to her feet, then plucked her towel from the rack.

“Okay.” Poppy reached behind to pull out the plug, then stood up to reach for her own towel. She wrapped it round herself, then studied her grandmother’s nudity.

Noticing Poppy gazing at her vulva, Ann asked the child, “What are you looking at, dear?”

“You’ve got red hair down there, too.”

“What? Oh, yes, that’s how it usually is. ‘The carpet matches the drapes’, that’s how some people put it.”

“So that means I’ll have red hair down there too, huh?”

“I’d imagine so, sweetheart.”

“But when will it happen?” With that question, Poppy opened her towel and cupped her mons, tracing the slit with a finger as if feeling for a trace of pubes. Ann shivered, the sight immediately reminding her of Coralie, and when she’d watched that beautiful little girl masturbate.

“About four years or so. It will come when it comes, don’t worry yourself about it.”

“Yours is awfully short, Nonna. Do you get it cut when you visit the hairdresser?”

“No, no,” Ann laughed, amused by an image of Siobhan, the sweet, shy Catholic girl who did her hair. Wonder what she’d say if I sat down, flipped up my skirt to show her my wicked bits and said, ‘Just take a little off the top, love.’ Tousling Poppy’s hair, Ann told the girl, “Actually, I do it myself with an electric trimmer.”

“Cool! You should make it into a nice shape like a heart.”

“Erm, yes, I suppose that would look nice. But come on now, let’s get you dried and dressed before you catch your death of cold.”

Ann wrapped the towel tightly round her body, tucking in the front before emerging from the bath, then reaching in to help her granddaughter climb out. As they dried themselves, Ann was thankful that Poppy made no further observations or asked any more awkward questions about their bodies, but she did feel a bit self-conscious when Poppy seated herself on the toilet lid and watched as Ann applied lotion to her legs.

As she placed one foot on the edge of the bath, Ann was unaware that Poppy was fighting an urge to reach out and slide a finger along the exposed crease of her grandmother’s sex, peeking from beneath the towel.

After sending Poppy off to her room to get dressed, Ann cleaned the bath, then returned to the guest room. Feeling an urge to make herself especially attractive, she chose a robin’s-egg dress that displayed her trim figure to impressive effect, along with the same silken bra and panties she’d worn for Colette the last time they made love. Before dressing, she stood naked before the mirror, appraising her body from front and back. “You’ll do,” she murmured.

She went downstairs to the living room, where Poppy was on the sofa, perusing a storybook. The child glanced up, giving her gran a dazzling smile. “Hi, Nonna! Are you going to read your book some more? I wanted to keep you company, so I got a book, too!” She brandished a colourful volume.

Such a delightful girl. “Let me fix a coffee, and I’ll join you,” Ann said, heading toward the kitchen, “Care for a lemon squash, dear?”

“Yes, please!” Poppy exclaimed.

A few minutes later, grandmother and child sat side by side with their respective books and beverages. At one point, Poppy hugged her knees to her chest, and Ann was pleased to see that she was now wearing knickers. Thank goodness, she told herself, not sure why she felt so relieved.

Thirty minutes later, Jessica returned with the girls.

While Alice and Katie changed into their house clothes, Poppy took to the kitchen with Jess and Ann to assist with making sandwiches for afternoon tea.

Jessica looked from her daughter to her mother. “So… did Poppy behave herself, Mum?”

“Of course she did!”

Poppy smiled innocently, but Jess was all too familiar with that smile. It meant her little girl had been up to mischief no one knew about. “See, Mum? Told you I’d be good.”

“So it seems, young lady. Let’s hope you behave on Friday while Mummy Rachel and I are away. Bella and Cindy are staying the night, so Auntie Laura is coming by to act as reinforcement for your gran.”

“Sounds like fun!” Poppy exclaimed.

Jess placed the last sandwich on a plate. “There we are. Go tell your sisters it’s time for tea.”

“Okay!” Off she went, bounding up the stairs.

Turning to Ann, Jess said, “Thanks for looking after her, Mum. Poppy can be a handful. Did I have that much energy when I was her age?”

“You might’ve done, actually. And I’m always happy to spend time with the girls, you know that. Poppy is the most delightful child. She helped me out in the garden, we had a nice bath, then we sat quietly and read for a while.”

“Wait, Mum – did you say we had a bath?”

“Yes, dear. It’s been a long time since I’ve bathed the girls, let alone being in the tub with them. It was just like when Poppy was a toddler.”

Jessica’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You got in with her? Whose idea was that?”

“Well, I was having my own bath when Poppy came in and asked if she could join me. She said it was a good way to save water.”

“I suppose… but that doesn’t mean she ought to interrupt you while you’re relaxing.”

“Oh, it was fine. It has been ages since Poppy saw me nude, I suppose. She was very curious about my body – you know, wondering what she’d look like one day.”

That little minx! Jess thought. “What did she ask about?”

“It was funny; she wanted to know if her breasts will be as big as mine, and if her pubic hair would be the same shade of red.”

“Well, you know how curious she is,” Jess said, trying not to let her irritation show. I specifically told Poppy and her sisters to leave seducing their gran to Laura and me… what part of that didn’t she understand? I’ll be having a word with her later. She sighed. I swear, we’ve turned that girl into a sex fiend. Thank Christ Laura will be here tomorrow night to keep her in line.

***

Later that night, Jessica made sure she was the one who tucked Poppy in. As the seven-year-old stripped off to get into the large t-shirt she favoured as a nightie, Jess stood there with arms folded, frowning.

“So, what’s all this about you interrupting your gran’s bath, Poppy? What are you up to?”

There it was again – that wide-eyed look of perfect innocence. “I haven’t seen Nonna for a long time, Mummy. I just wanted to take a bath with her, like when I was little.”

“Is that so? And you weren’t trying to get her into bed?”

A hint of colour appeared in Poppy’s cheeks. “Well… I do want to fuck Nomma, but I didn’t say so, Mummy. I just wanted her to see me with no clothes on.” She giggled. “I think she liked that, too… I sure liked seeing her! She has the nicest titties!”

Rolling her eyes, Jess said, “Well, your gran didn’t seem to suss out what you were doing, so I guess you aren’t in trouble… this time, anyway. But no more games, okay? You and your sisters need to let us grownups handle this. Understand?”

Poppy nodded, then gave Jess a bashful glance. “Mummy?”

“What, sweetie?”

“Can I get a kiss? A sexy kiss?”

Nibbling her lower lip, Jess gazed longingly at her daughter. Poppy was still naked, pyjamas draped over her arm, wearing that angelic smile that was guaranteed to fire Jessica’s lust.

An all-too familiar longing was making itself known, pulsing beneath her belly. Because of Ann’s visit, she’d not made love to any of the girls – hers or Rachel’s – for nearly a week. For that matter, she and Rachel hadn’t fucked in longer than that.

“We shouldn’t be having any kind of sex, Poppy,” Jess said. “I know it’s difficult, but we can’t have your gran catch us. Once she goes home, I’ll lick that sweet pussy of yours until you beg me to quit.”

“Just a kiss, Mummy. Please?”

The yearning Jessica saw in her seven-year-old’s eyes would have melted a far colder heart than hers. Going down on her knees, she drew Poppy into a loving embrace. “I’m not sure you even deserve a kiss, not after that stunt you pulled with your gran,” Jess said. “You’re lucky I’ve got such a kindly nature.”

She grazed the child’s ear with a feather-light kiss, then nuzzled her neck. “Oh… oh, yes, Mummy,” Poppy cooed, now shivering with excitement.

Their lips met, and Poppy was quick to respond, her tongue darting into Mummy’s mouth. Jess was quick to respond, and their kiss grew heated and fervent.

Unable to restrain herself, Jess cupped the seven-year-old’s arse, slipping a finger between the soft cheeks to stroke her rosebud.

“Oh, Mummy,” Poppy whispered as their mouths drifted apart, “I miss us making love.”

“I miss it too,” sighed Jess. “It’s just been a couple of days, though. Be patient, sweetie.”

“I’m trying, really I am… but it’s hard, Mummy.” She giggled. “Just seeing your bottom when you make breakfast… I want to raise your nightie, take your knickers down and kiss it!”

Jess was immediately reminded of an incident a few weeks earlier, when Poppy had done that very thing. The child, still in her nightwear – a long t-shirt with nothing underneath – crept up to Jess while she was buttering toast, tugged her panties down, then bent Mummy over the kitchen counter and licked both her holes. Hearing their mother’s moans from the living room, Katie and Alice hastened to join the fun. Soon the girls had Jessica stretched out atop the dining table, all three of them pleasuring her at once.

It was a fine memory, one that had Jessica throbbing with lust.

Really, I shouldn’t do this, not after insisting the girls behave… but I’ve been too sodding long without. If that makes me a lesbian nymphomaniac, so be it.

Patting the nearby bed, Jess murmured, “Lie down, love.”

Poppy’s eyes were filled with hopeful joy as she scrambled onto her bed and stretched out; knees up, legs spread.

“No noise, now,” Jess said. She bent down to adorn her child’s pretty pink cleft with a kiss, then traced the opening with the tip of her tongue. There it was, that exquisite flavour… like some tart exotic fruit. She loved the taste of pussy – all different, yet tantalisingly familiar – but she enjoyed licking Poppy most of all.

Clumsily unfastening her jeans with one hand, Jess pulled the zipper down, slid a hand into a very sodden pair of knickers, then curved two fingers into her cunt with a single sharp thrust… all without breaking oral contact with her seven-year-old’s slit.

“Oh, yes… yes. That’s s-so nice, Mummy…” Poppy whimpered, using both hands to draw her legs even farther apart.

The child’s anus was now exposed and open, so Jess took a moment to burrow her tongue into Poppy’s arse crack, bathing the tight pucker. But knowing how badly her little girl needed to come, she soon found her way up to the tiny morsel of Poppy’s clitoris, which she licked a few times, then took between her lips. All the while, Jess was fucking herself hard, fast, and deep as she could get her fingers to go.

A hard shiver ran through Poppy’s thin frame, then she was moaning into both hands, covering her mouth as her orgasm kicked in. Jess continued to suck her daughter’s clit until the girl squirmed away, gasping that she’d had enough.

Seconds later, it was Jessica’s turn to come, those two wicked fingers twisting and twirling about inside the creamy canal of her vagina. She drove herself through a tooth-rattling climax, then slumped against the foot of the bed.

She felt lips brushing her face, and opened her eyes to find Poppy kneeling next to her, whispering, “Thanks, Mummy. That was the best. I love you!”

Embracing her nude little girl, Jess kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you too, angel. Now get yourself to bed.”

“I will, but first…” Poppy gave her mum one last passionate kiss, which Jessica eagerly returned. Finally breaking away with a giggle, the seven-year-old picked up her nightshirt from the floor and slipped into it. As usual, she didn’t bother to wear anything underneath. Getting into bed, she drew the covers up to her chin. “I’m gonna have good dreams tonight. Thanks again, Mummy.”

Jess was fastening her pants. “My pleasure, dearest.” She bent down; touched her lips to Poppy’s cheek. “Goodnight, Poppy.”

“G’night, Mummy,” said the child, then broke into a huge yawn. Jess blew her daughter a kiss just before switching off the light, then carefully closed the door.

Before rejoining Ann downstairs, she took a brief detour to her bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. After all, she reasoned, by now, Mum knows what pussy smells like. Best not to tempt fate.

Jess entered the family room to find her mum on the sofa, passing the time with a book. Anne had opened the wine she’d brought along, so Jessica fetched a glass from the kitchen before joining her.

As Jess filled her glass, Ann glanced up from her book. “What time are you and Rachel leaving tomorrow?”

“Hmmm, good question. I’d best text her.” Taking out her phone, she messaged Laura: How early can you drop by on Friday? She got a response moments later.

Looking up from the phone, Jess said, “Here we go. Laura said she’ll be over early, about 7:30. Rachel and I will leave just after eight for the Oxford Tube coach to London, so she’ll drop Bella and Cindy off then. Bella can sleep in Alice’s room, Cindy with Katie, Laura will be in my room, and Poppy’s fine in her own room. We’ll probably be back around… oh, say tea time on Saturday.”

“Fair enough. Any special plans?”

“Shopping, mostly… and Rach got tickets to an Argentine tango show. It’s like a play with dance.”

“That’s my favourite dance on Strictly. Your father was very good at ballroom, but didn’t have the hips for Latin.” Ann laughed briefly, then her expression turned wistful.

Jess rested a hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I remember Dad teaching me to dance… and I learned everything I know about running a business from him. With Laura, it was all about books and politics. Remember the discussions they used to get into?”

“Vividly. Give them credit, though – your father and your sister knew how to argue without it ever turning into a fight.”

“That’s true. Instead, they’d debate till the cows come home.”

Ann nodded. “Richard and I didn’t disagree often… but when we did, he could be a formidable opponent. Whenever I’m at a board meeting, it’s as if he’s still by my side, offering sage advice. Sometimes it’s even useful!” she added with a wink.

“Do you still miss Dad a lot? I know the rest of us do, but it must have been especially hard for you, what with all the business stuff to sort out.”

Ann gave Jessica’s hand a quick squeeze. “Yes, I do miss him, but having you, Laura and the girls there made it easier to bear.” She paused. “For me, the hardest part was coming home and not finding Richard there. The house seemed… smaller without him.”

“Dad always knew how to fill a space,” Jess murmured.

Rousing herself with a quick shake of the head, Ann gave her daughter a brave smile. “Now, let’s not get melancholy, dear. My family is happy and doing well. Me, I’m enjoying life; finally looking forward to the future. And speaking of the future… I’ve started making some decisions. I’ll tell you more when I have a definite idea of them.”

“There you go again with the cryptic comments, Mum. Is something wrong?”

“Goodness me, no – it’s nothing like that. I’m fit and healthy, probably more than I’ve been for a while. It’s mostly about the business, but nothing’s set in stone just yet. I’ll have a chat with you and your sister when you get back from your break.”

“Okay, Mum, but it all sounds very mysterious.”

“Trust me, you’ve nothing to worry about.” She got to her feet. “Let’s get to bed. You’ll be getting up early, remember.”

***

Once Jess had taken a quick shower and cleaned her teeth, she slipped into bed, then picked up her phone to call Laura. They exchanged greetings, then Jess told her sister what Poppy had been up to.

“I gave her a talking to, but you’ll have to be on guard. I don’t think she’ll try anything else. Still, you know what a creature of impulse Poppy can be.”

“Oh, I do indeed,” Laura replied. “But don’t worry, Poppy won’t be doing any seducing. I intend to take all the girls to Willett’s and tire them out. And tomorrow night, I plan to pay Mum a little visit; ask if she’ll let me share her bed. Then, while I’ve got her alone, I’ll see if I can get to open up about what she did with this Gina woman. I want details!”

“From what she told me, Mum let Gina do all the work. She’s only twenty-five, by the way – did Mum tell you that?”

“No! Fuck me, that’s hot. So Mum didn’t return the favour?”

“I’m afraid not,” said Jess. “I think she’s a bit embarrassed about that. Something tells me the next time Mum has it off with a woman she’ll be getting her face wet, if you get my meaning.”

“Indeed I do. You seem awfully sure she’ll be returning to the well, by the way. When I spoke to Mum, she made it sound like more of a one-time thing.”

“Hmmph. She’s just having trouble adjusting to the idea that she might be gay. The way she talked about that first time, though… Mum didn’t go into explicit detail, but she did say it was incredible. Now she’s had a taste, I don’t think she’ll be able to leave it at that. Don’t know if she means to have it off with Gina again, but if not, she’ll let herself be taken to bed by some other woman.”

“Good!” Laura exclaimed. “Well, I’ll get my chance to sound Mum out tomorrow night. If she’s hiding anything else about her sex life, I’ll ferret it out. I am a journalist, after all!”

“Any ideas about, you know, how to get her into bed with us? I’m coming up empty.”

“Nothing very specific. If I can get her into a graphic discussion about doing the deed… well, that’s a good start.” She paused, then added, “I was thinking of telling Mum about how I used to crush on her, back when I was working through the whole being-queer thing. Maybe even admit I masturbated to fantasies of her now and then.” She laughed. “Actually, I got myself off all the bloody time thinking about her!”

“You still do, I’ll wager,” Jessica murmured.

“You know me too well, big sister.”

“I know what a dirty-minded slag you are, you mean… and how much I love you for it.” Jess glanced at the clock. “Guess I ought to turn in. Early day tomorrow,”

“Me too. Only, um… how’d you like to indulge in a little phone sex, big sister?”

“Well, aren’t you the naughty one! Yes, I’d love it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about Mum, how much I want her. I swear, Jess – you and your girls have turned me into a lesbian incest freak. So… shall we get ourselves off to a nice mother-daughter fantasy?”

“Works for me. You start – I’m sure you’ve done this kind of thing many’s the time.”

“Hmm, let’s see… Okay. Mum’s in that massive shower of yours, soaping herself up. She’s washing those big, beautiful tits of hers when you open the door and enter, with me right behind. We’re both naked.”

“Is she surprised?” Jess asked, stroking her cunt.

“At first. But she’s even more surprised by the way we’re looking at her. Give Mum credit… she knows right away what’s on our minds, that we want to fuck.“

Jess easily stepped into the fantasy. “Her eyes, Laura… my God, they’re huge.”

“That’s right. She’s thinking about it, what we’re asking for.”

“Now we’re on either side of her. Mum looks from you to me, then back again. All she says is, ‘Are you sure about this…?’”

“Nice, sis. Then you say, ‘We’re sure, Mum’, then kiss her. Right on the mouth. She freezes up for a few seconds, then… oh, Jess, she just melts into your arms.”

Caught up in this lewd scenario, Jessica fucked herself hard and fast, the palm of her hand making smacking sounds as it collided again and again with her vulva.

“Your tongue’s in her mouth, your hands gripping her arse…”

Unable to cover her mouth, Jess clenched her jaw hard enough to hurt as she went off in a massive orgasm, one that buffeted her body like a thunderstorm. She continued to maul her vagina, forcing her fingers even deeper, whimpering as her rapture mounted to a near-unbearable peak that left her limp and dazed, still clutching a sweat-slicked phone.

“Fucking hell,” she heard Laura say. “That sounded like a good one.”

“Mm, yeh,” Jess mumbled, gulping in soothing lungfuls of air. “Give me a minute, an’ I’ll take care of you.”

“Not a problem… I’m ready when you are. Some fantasy, huh? Got myself off just last night while thinking about that – doing Mum in the shower. It’s even hotter with you there, though. Even if you got to have her first, greedy bitch!” she added with a dirty laugh.

“Ha bloody ha,” said Jessica, settling into her pillow. “Are you ready, little sister?”

“Ready and then some. In fact, I’m rubbing one out right now. Mmmmm, yes.”

“Okay, then.” Setting the scene in her mind, Jess began. “Let’s go back to when we were teenagers. You already know about liking girls… but now it’s sinking in that you like older women even more. And there’s one particular woman who really gets your motor humming…”

“Oh, God,” Laura moaned.

“You already know who I mean, don’t you? That’s right – it’s your own mother. You’ve had sexy fantasies about her; masturbated while picturing Mum nude. Of course, you assume nothing will ever come of it.

“But one day after getting up, you go down to the kitchen in your pyjamas, and there she is at the sink, washing dishes in her nightgown – that pretty green one she used to have; remember?”

“I – I do. Fuck, Jess, you’re really g-good at this…”

Now caressing her own slit, Jessica continued. “Mum turns around to give you a smile… but you only half notice, because her nightie falls open, and she’s completely naked underneath.”

“Yes!” Laura cried. “Oh, yes.”

“There’s something in her expression… a hunger in her eyes. You’ve never seen Mum like this. You’re standing there gawping like a fool, unable to move.

“Then she says, ‘I’ve noticed the way you look at me, sweetie… and I just wanted you to know that I feel the same way. I want what you want.’ She brushes her nightie over one shoulder, and it slips down to the floor. Then Mum leans back against the countertop and spreads her legs apart, showing you everything.” Jess paused, savouring the frantic rasp of her sister’s breath.

“Ohhhhh… d-don’t stop, damn you!” protested Laura. “What – what happens next?”

“Mum reaches down to open herself up with her fingers and says, ‘Take off those pyjamas, Laura… then come taste your mummy’s cunt.’”

“Oh, fuck. Fuck!”

“You strip out of your jammies and knickers, moving so fast that you nearly topple over. Once you’re completely naked, you go down on your knees at Mum’s feet, staring at her auburn pubes. You can smell her now, and, oh my God, it’s incredible.

“You move close to bury your mouth in Mum’s bush, then take that first lick. The flavour of her pussy…”

“AHHHHHH!” Laura shrieked. “OhgodohgodohgodohGOD!” Then a noisy clatter; the sound of the phone being dropped. Grinning with delight, Jess waited for her sister to return.

“Hey,” Laura finally said. “That was… impressive, Jess. I just left this massive wet spot on the bed. Y’know, if the trendy fashion business ever goes tits-up, you could make a living doing phone sex.”

“I’ve done this a few times before with Rachel. And I do not traffic in ‘trendy fashions,’ you cow.”

“Pardon the indelicacy,” Laura murmured, then drifted into a huge yawn. “Christ, I’m knackered. Thanks for the good time, sis. See you bright and early. Love you.”

“Love you too. G’night.”

“Night-night.”

Setting the phone on her night table, Jess switched off the arc lamp, then nestled into the sheets. Her mind was abuzz with anticipation for the next day and her London trip with Rachel, but somehow she managed to fall asleep quickly.

On to Chapter Forty!

by Purple Les and JetBoy

A summary of what has transpired thus far. (To get a more detailed breakdown of the previous chapters, please see Stranger in the Family Chapter Links)

Disaster befalls the Luna family of four when lightning strikes Walt, the father, and Kelly, the oldest child at eleven. Walt is killed outright, while Kelly is left in a coma that lasts for weeks. She finally emerges, to the overwhelming joy of her mother Linda and nine-year-old sister Gabby – but with no memory of her family or her life, and an altogether different personality. Kelly now speaks fluent Spanish, no longer eats meat and, most crucially, has a serious attraction to women and girls, despite never having had sex of any kind.

At first, Kelly openly flirts with every female in her presence – including her mother, her little sister, her Aunt Jan, and the neighbors: divorced mother Cheryl (Linda’s best friend) and her daughters – sixteen-year-old Ali, and nine-year-old Pam (Gabby’s best friend). But soon Kelly realizes that this direct approach is more apt to make others uncomfortable than entice them into bed, so she tones it down.

However, two members of Kelly’s family are fascinated by the eleven-year-old’s sexual vibe. The first is Gabby, who has already been playing masturbation games with her friend Pam, so Kelly is easily able to begin the seduction of her younger sister. The second is Aunt Jan, who is openly gay but secretly into underage girls, with a hidden library of illegal DVDs to prove it. And while Kelly’s mother Linda is thus far immune to her daughter’s sexual charms, she is thinking quite a lot about lesbian sex after the death of her husband. In fact, we learn that Linda and her sister Jan were lovers back in their teen years… and Jan is hinting she’d like to pick things up where they left off.

Around this time, Kelly visits neighbor Cheryl’s home for the first time since the accident. There, she is unable to restrain herself from coming on to Cheryl’s teen daughter Ali, then Cheryl herself. Kelly comes very close to scoring with Ali, but they get interrupted before it can happen.

Later, when her mother and little sister are asleep, Kelly slips out of bed and quietly makes her way to Cheryl’s home. There, she ends up in a sizzling threesome with Cheryl and Ali who, as it happens, are already lovers.

The next day, Kelly offers Cheryl the opportunity to watch through an outside window as she goes down on Gabby and Pam. Cheryl very much wants to bring her younger daughter into the sexual relationship she has with Ali, and jumps at the chance. Needless to say, Kelly and the girls have a wonderful time, and Cheryl sees the whole thing without being noticed. 

And that brings us to this chapter. Please enjoy.

Linda and her daughters were in the family car, on their way to the home of Linda’s older sister Jan for the weekend. Kelly and Gabby rode in the back seat together.

“Is this something we do a lot?” Kelly asked, taking in the passing scenery.

“Sure is,” Gabby answered as she studied her sister’s tanned legs. “We spend time with Aunt Jan, like, every summer. Don’t we, Mom?”

“Yep, that’s right, sweetie,.” Linda said, her eyes on the road. They’d already stopped for lunch on the way. Now it was mid-afternoon, and they were about thirty minutes from Jan’s home.

“We started this when you girls were little,” Linda explained, meeting Kelly’s eyes in the rear view mirror. “Aunt Jan would take you for a while in the summer, so your dad and I could have some time to ourselves. You always like going there, Jan loves having you… and I really need a few days to unwind.”

A few minutes later, Linda pulled into a gas station. She got out and fueled the car while the sisters watched her from the back seat.

Kelly had a few questions to ask while their mother was out of earshot. “Do we share a room at Aunt Jan’s?”

“Nope.” Gabby answered. “We each have our own room. Aunt Jan’s place is huge. She’s got a pool and a hot tub, and she lets us stay up late as we want and sleep in the next morning. You’ll love it, Kelly. It’s the best vacation ever. We don’t have to do chores or nothing – just have fun. We can play as much as we want, or be as lazy as we want.”

Kelly eyed her sister. “I’ll still be able to lick your pussy, though… right?”

Gabby grinned. “Oh, yeah. We can sneak into each other’s rooms, once Aunt Jan goes to bed. Heck, we can even do it during the day. She’s not nosy or anything.”

“I can’t wait,” Kelly murmured, moistening her lips. “I’ll probably come to see you later tonight.”

“Cool,” Gabby whispered, feeling tingly all over.

Just then Linda got into the car. Kelly slipped a hand between Gabby’s thighs, briefly rubbing the girl through the front of her shorts, then snatching her hand back as their mother switched on the ignition, put the vehicle into gear and turned back onto the road.

Gabby scowled at her sister, then giggled when she saw the perfectly innocent expression on Kelly’s face.

***

As they finally approached Aunt Jan’s home, Kelly was impressed by the size of the houses, each located in a spacious yard with a rolling green lawn.

When Linda pulled into a wide driveway and parked the car, Gabby cried, “Yay! We’re here!” jumped out of the car and raced toward the front door. She rang the bell four or five times, and when a laughing Jan opened the door, threw both arms around her aunt’s waist.

“Someone’s happy to be here,” Linda said, but with a smile. “Kelly, can you bring Gabby’s overnight bag along with yours?”

“Sure, Mother.” They made their way to the entrance, where Jan was still hugging Gabby.

“Hiya, big sister!” Linda exclaimed. She kissed Jan’s cheek.

“Hiya yourself,” Jan replied. Her gaze shifted to Kelly, who was holding a bag in each hand. “Good to see you, Kelly.”

“Hi, Aunt Jan.” Kelly said, remembering how she came on to her aunt the last couple of times they met. She let the woman see her naked, masturbated in her presence, even taken her panties off and gave them to Jan.

She looks even better than I remember, Kelly decided. The impulse was there to let her feelings show, to give her aunt one of those lustful looks that always seemed to unnerve women at the grocery store or the mall.

Instead, she tried to seem a bit bashful. Make her think you’ve changed, and you aren’t having dirty thoughts about her anymore. Then, once Mom is gone…

“Say, Gabby,” Aunt Jan said, turning to the nine-year-old, “can you show Kelly where to put the bags? After that, you should give her a tour of the place. I need to talk with your mom for a minute.”

“Sure.” Gabby said as she took her bag. “C’mon, Kel!” She led her sister from the room.

“You’re gonna love the spa, Linda,” Jan said. “I’m glad you’re doing this. To be honest, you look like you really need a break.”

“Oh, I do, I do,” Linda admitted, “I don’t know, though – it feels wrong, just leaving the girls with you while I pamper myself. I… I’m still worried about Kelly.”

“So she hasn’t recovered any of her memory?”

Linda shook her head. “Not a bit.”

“Hmmm. What about her… other unusual behavior? Is she still making those comments about wanting to see other women naked, or any other references to lesbian sex?” Jan kept her voice neutral, but her heart was throbbing. After her last trip to visit Linda and the girls, she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about how blatantly eleven-year-old Kelly had come on to her. Much as Jan loved her nieces, she suspected that Kelly was going to be a handful while Linda was away.

“She isn’t saying outrageous things anymore, no,” said Linda. “On the other hand….” She sighed. “Kelly is spending a lot of time with Gabby these days. Way more than she ever did before. As for Gabby – well, she always loved her big sister, but now she practically worships her.” She paused. “It’s just a gut feeling of mine… but I think the girls just might be having sex. With each other.”

Jan fought to conceal her excitement, an immediate rush of heat surging between her thighs. She was torn between hoping her sister’s suspicions were true, and praying they weren’t. “I don’t know, Linda,” she said, still maintaining her even tone. “That’s one hell of a reach.”

“I know, I know!” Linda exclaimed. “But if they are… what on earth should I do about it?”

“Have you spoken to them?”

Linda sighed again. “How the hell do I start that conversation? ‘Say, I was just wondering… are you girls fucking each other?’ Honestly, I don’t have the nerve.”

Jan sat quietly for a moment, weighing her words. Finally she spoke. “Maybe I shouldn’t say this, but… would it honestly be so bad if Kelly and Gabby were to – to explore sex with one another? It didn’t do us any harm.”

There was a long silence, only broken by the murmur of the girls’ voices from upstairs.

“Maybe you’re right,” Linda finally said, looking down at her hands. “I mean, it wasn’t easy when we gave it up… but in the end, yeah, what you and I had was good.” She gave a shaky laugh. “Brought us closer together.”

“Closer than close,” Jan added.

Linda looked up at her sister. “There’s something I want to ask you, Jan. If I told you that I wanted us to make love again, how would you feel about that?”

Jan placed her hand on Linda’s knee. “I’d like to. Very much.”

“Good,” said Linda. “I’m glad to know that someone still wants me.” Bringing Jan’s hand to her lips, she gave it a tender kiss. “I’m still dealing with losing Walt, so I’m not ready to be intimate with anyone just yet. But once I’ve healed up a little more, I’d like to be… close to you again. Like we used to be.”

Jan stared at Linda, her heart thumping wildly. For years, she’d dreamed of this, ached for the possibility of being her sister’s lover once more.  “Just say the word. When you need me, I’ll be there.”

Gazing into Jan’s eyes, Linda felt as if she’d been stripped naked on the spot. A familiar warmth began to pulse and throb between her legs. “You know… maybe I ought to pass on this silly spa weekend and stay here.”

For an instant, Jan was on the verge of agreeing – but then she shook her head. “No, no. Let’s not rush this. You need that healing time, kiddo. Besides,” she lowered her voice, “when we do take up where we left off, I plan to fuck you in every room of the house, the garage, the back yard and the swimming pool. We don’t want the girls around for that, do we?”

“I – I guess not,” Linda stammered.

“You’re already booked for the spa – go, enjoy.” The spell now broken, Jan rose to her feet. “Will you stay for lunch?”

What Linda really wanted right then was to excuse herself, toddle off to the bathroom, and bring herself off two or three times. Instead, she said, “Well, if I’m really going, I’d better go. I’ll say goodbye to the girls.” She stood, moved in the direction of the stairs. “Kelly? Gabby? I’m leaving now.”

Seconds later, the girls came bounding down the stairs. Gabby raced into her mother’s arms. “Bye, Mom,” she said. “Have a good time and get some rest, okay?”

Linda enfolded her youngest in a warm hug. “Be a good girl for Aunt Jan,” she murmured, trying to sound stern; failing to pull it off. Finally releasing Gabby, she reached out for Kelly, drawing the girl into a loving embrace.

“Kelly,” Linda said, gazing into the warm eyes of her beautiful child, “Just… just do what Aunt Jan says. And look after your sister. Okay?” She impulsively gave the girl a brief but tender kiss.

“We’ll be fine, Mother.” Kelly replied. “Don’t worry about us.”

Linda felt reassured, somehow. She hugged her daughters once more apiece, did the same to Jan, then made her exit.

Jan, Kelly and Gabby watched the car go down the street from a window, then there was a brief silence between the three of them.

Jan spoke first. “Gabby, why don’t you help Kelly unpack… then we can talk about what you girls want to do while you’re here. Do you want to have dinner delivered, or should we go out to a restaurant?”

“I know what I want to do.” Gabby announced. “First, I’d like to go for a swim in the pool. Then, I want to go to that place where they have the sundae bar. Yum!”

“Okay,” said Jan. “But shouldn’t we hear what Kelly wants to do?”

“Aw, Aunt Jan… Kelly can’t even remember what she likes.”

Jan frowned at that, and was about to reply when Kelly spoke up, “It’s okay, Aunt Jan, she’s right. I don’t know what I’d like. I’ve forgotten all that stuff. Whatever Gabby wants to do, that’s fine with me.”

“Well, Kelly,” Jan said, “You used to love when we had Chinese delivered.”

“Mmmm, yeah! I like that, too!” Gabby piped up. “Maybe we can have it tomorrow?”

Kelly shrugged. “Cualquier cosa que quieras comer, me parece bien,” she said.

Gabby rolled her eyes. “You’re speakin’ Spanish again, Kel.”

“Oops, sorry,” Kelly said, making a face. “What I said was that I’m fine with whatever you guys want.”

“Do you catch yourself going into Spanish very often?” asked Jan.

“I never notice at all,” Kelly replied. “Not till someone tells me I’m doing it.”

By then, Gabby was practically bouncing in place. “Come on, Kel – let’s go unpack now, so we can go for a swim!” she exclaimed, seizing her big sister’s hand.

“Okay, okay!” Kelly laughed.

As the girls hastened upstairs. Kelly couldn’t help but check out Gabby’s bottom, which looked really great in the snug shorts she wore. She was very much looking forward to watching her little sister undress.

Jan called out, “I’ll fix some snacks!” then retired to the kitchen.

Upstairs, Gabby unzipped Kelly’s bag and began to take things out, telling her sister which drawer to put each item in.

Kelly held up her swimsuit. “What drawer for this?”

Gabby rolled her eyes. “Don’t put that away, goofball! We’re going swimming, remember?”

“Um… do I even swim?”

“Sure you do. Heck, you taught me how!” Gabby replied. “Now put your suit on while I go unpack and change.”

“Hey, Gabby… don’t you want to watch me get undressed?” Kelly asked, a teasing tone in her voice.

Gabby was caught off guard by the question. “What about Aunt Jan?” she asked, glancing toward the open door.

“Oh, you want her to watch me change?”

Now blushing, Gabby impatiently stamped her foot, “No, silly! I mean we might get caught.”

“You’re the silly one,” Kelly reasoned. “We’re just getting changed into our bathing suits! Why would she care if we undress in the same room?”

“Guess you’re right. And we get to see each other bare naked again, like this morning!”

“We sure do,” Kelly said, putting her suit on the bed. “That was fun, wasn’t it? Me, you and Pam, with all our clothes off.”

Drifting over to where her sister stood, Kelly gave her little sister an ardent kiss. As their tongues gently mingled, Kelly allowed her hands to drift down until they were cupping Gabby’s bottom.

They finally parted. “I love kissing you,” Gabby said. “And when you lick me… wow, that’s the best!” She giggled. “It was so cool seeing you do that to Pam. I never saw her come like that!”

“C’mere,” Kelly said. She dragged the desk chair into the center of the room, then patted the seat. “Sit down.”

Enthralled by the hunger she saw in her big sister’s eyes, Gabby quickly obeyed, heart racing as she watched Kelly kick off her sneakers, then bend down to remove her socks.

For the second time that day, Gabby watched her sibling undress. She placed a hand on her vulva, clamping it tightly between the thighs to afford herself a measure of relief while Kelly took off her t-shirt, then her shorts, tossing them on the bed.

Kelly stood before Gabby in her white training bra and flowered cotton panties, basking in her little sister’s adoration for a little while.

Gabby waited for Kelly to continue, then finally said, “What about the rest? C’mon, Kelly… let me see all of you. Please?”

God, this makes me crazy hot! Kelly marveled. I love being naked for Gabby. And Pam. Cheryl and Ali. Aunt Jan. Their eyes on me, wanting me, wanting to fuck. And maybe… maybe one day Mom will look at me like that. She shivered.

But that was something to think about later. Right then, Gabby was there, waiting to see everything.

Shrugging out of her bra, Kelly laid it on the bed next to her clothes, then did the same with her panties. Facing her sister, she spread both arms slightly, as if presenting her nudity to the dazed nine-year-old.

“You’re so beautiful, Kelly,” Gabby whispered. “I – I’d do anything to be as pretty as you.”

That made Kelly smile. “Don’t sell yourself short, little sister. You’re gonna be a knockout in a few years… but I already think you’re hella sexy.” She drew close, then bent down to claim Gabby’s mouth in a heated, forceful kiss that left the little girl gasping when Kelly abruptly broke away.

Idly picking up her swimsuit, Kelly said, “Come on, then… let’s get you unpacked now.”

Gabby rose on trembling legs. “Aren’t you gonna… put your suit on?”

“Oh, I’m in no hurry.” Draping the one-piece suit over her shoulder. Kelly padded into the hallway. Staring longingly at her sister’s bare bottom, Gabby hastened to follow.

Kelly perched on the edge of the bed in Gabby’s room, her legs spread apart. “Go on, put your stuff away,” she said.

Unpacking took Gabby longer than it normally would, mostly because she couldn’t stop stealing glances at her naked sister – especially the rosy cleft of Kelly’s sex, which seemed to get prettier every time Gabby saw it. For the first time, she wondered what it would taste like.

Once she’d stored the last bit of clothing in the old oak dresser, Gabby turned to her sister, took a deep breath and began to undress, very conscious of Kelly’s gaze. With every item she removed, she grew more and more excited, giggling with delight as she pushed her panties down and stood completely nude before her big sister.

Standing up, slowly advancing closer, Kelly suddenly scooped the girl up and tossed her onto the bed. A surprised Gabby squealed – then fell silent, eyes widening at the feral expression on her sister’s face as Kelly crawled between her outstretched legs.

“Omigosh,” Gabby mumbled when Kelly bent down to nuzzle her smooth slit. When she felt the caress of her sister’s tongue, the ecstatic nine-year-old surrendered to ecstasy.

She was so keyed up that it only took a few licks to make her come. Gabby’s thin body arched up from the bed as her pleasure reached a peak, then she sank back with a blissful sigh.

Sitting next to the panting child, Kelly gave Gabby a moment to rest. She was sorely tempted to finger herself to orgasm, but decided to hold off. If this day goes the way I want, It’ll be Aunt Jan who’s making me come, she thought.

Kelly bent to kiss her sister’s mouth, then murmured, “Okay, Gabs… let’s put our suits on.” She gently eased the younger girl into a seated position. “C’mon, it’s time to swim!”

“Whoa, now I need a nap,” Gabby said, but she obligingly rose, stretching herself. “I love you, Kelly.”

“Love you too, sis.” Kelly was wriggling into her swimsuit. “Wow, this is tight.”

“Yeah – mine too!” Gabby said as she climbed into hers. “They’re from last summer. I guess we’re growing up fast, huh?”

The thin material of Gabby’s one-piece gave the child a very distinct camel toe. As for Kelly’s suit, it rode up high in the back, putting quite a lot of her bottom on display.

When the girls came downstairs, Jan got a good look, then tried not to stare. Fuck, they may as well be naked, she thought – well aware that Kelly, at least, might choose to skinny-dip at any moment.

“Whee!” Gabby cried. “Let’s go!” Racing onto the patio, she did a cannonball into the pool. Kelly followed, but paused to watch her little sister swim, giving Jan an amazing view of her ass.

Jesus, I don’t know how I’m going to survive these next few days, Jan thought, setting a platter of various snacks and a pitcher of iced tea on the bistro table. Beneath a light blue dressing gown, she was wearing her skimpiest bikini – a mistake, probably, but the urge to impress her nieces had been too tempting to resist.

“Aren’t you guys coming in?” Gabby cried.

“Sure, we’ll be right in.” Jan said, then paused in mid-motion. “Gabby!” she called. “Come back out for a minute. You need sunscreen.” She turned to Kelly. “You too, young lady,” she added, fetching the tube of Neutrogena from a nearby shelf. “Your mom will skin me alive if I let you girls get burnt.”

Making a face, Gabby swam over to the nearby ladder and climbed out of the pool, water dripping from her glistening body. “Can you put it on for me, Aunt Jan?”

“Me too!” Kelly echoed.

Great, Jan told herself. Exactly what I should NOT be doing right now: touching the girls while they’re in these too-tight suits. But it would seem weird if I said no. Besides, I don’t want to! 

Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Jan squirted a dollop of sunblock into her hand, then began to apply the creamy liquid to Gabby’s shoulders and arms. Kelly watched with great interest, enjoying the sight of Aunt Jan touching her little sister’s body.

Now Jan was down on her knees, rubbing sunblock on her niece’s legs, telling herself, She’s only nine. She’s only nine. My God, she’s exquisite.

“There, all done,” she finally said, resisting an impulse to give the girl’s bottom a playful slap.

Gabby instantly leapt back into the pool, and Kelly drew closer. “My turn, huh?” Giving her aunt a dazzling smile, she presented her back.

“I guess so,” Jan mumbled, squirting more sunblock into her hand. She slathered it onto Kelly’s upper back, moved to her shoulders, then rubbed some into each arm in turn.

“Put a lot on my legs, Aunt Jan,” Kelly purred. “I always get sunburned there.”

Damn it all… she’s playing me like a cheap fiddle. Hunkering down, Jan coated her hands with the cool lotion and applied it to those luscious legs. Up and down, pausing to anoint the girl’s feet, then gliding up to her thighs. She worked the sunblock into the amazingly soft skin, then sat back. “Okay, you’re done.”

“Wait,” Kelly protested. “What about the rest of me?” She placed both hands on her buttocks, left partially exposed by her too-snug swimsuit.

“Um… wouldn’t you rather do that part yourself?” Jan replied, realizing the foolishness of those words as they passed her lips.

Kelly peered over her shoulder, giving her aunt a look that positively smoldered with lust. “I’d rather it be you, Aunt Jan.”

Staring at her niece’s flawless ass, Jan resigned herself to the inevitable. Fine, then, she decided. We both know what’s going on here. And if I’m doing this, I’ll goddamn well enjoy it.

Touching Kelly’s hip, Jan said, “Turn to face me.”

The girl seemed puzzled, but obeyed, then Jan reached round to cup Kelly’s bottom in both hands, slipping her fingers beneath the material of the swimsuit.

“Ohhhh,” Kelly moaned, letting her head loll back as Aunt Jan fondled her ass. She waited to feel a finger tease her cunt, or maybe slide into her butthole.

It didn’t happen, though. Those lovely hands were gliding all over and around Kelly’s buttocks, but they never went where the girl most longed for them to go. Guess she’s still too nervous.

In fact, much as Jan longed to fuck her niece, she was still determined not to. Which didn’t mean she couldn’t have a bit of fun with the girl, paying her back for all the head games she’d been playing of late. Time for Little Miss Cunt Tease to get a dose of her own medicine.

Once she’d thoroughly groped Kelly’s ass, Jan casually withdrew her hands. “Okay, now you’re done.”

Kelly was wearing a pout when Jan got to her feet, but then something in the distance caught her attention. “Oh, wow,” she said. “That looks like fun.”

Jan turned to look, breaking into a grin at what she saw. Gabby was clinging to the edge of the pool, her groin pressed against the water jet down below.

“Aunt Jan?” Kelly said, her voice gone quiet. “Has Gabby ever done that before?”

“Oh, yes. She first did it the summer before last, I think.” Shrugging out of her dressing down, she draped it over a nearby chair.

“Um… did I do it too?”

Picking up the tube of sunscreen, Jan squeezed some into her palm. “Try it out. See if it feels familiar.” With a wink, she began to apply the lotion to her own body.

Pausing to watch, Kelly admired her aunt’s nicely toned body, showcased to impressive effect by the skimpy bikini Jan wore. She’s even sexier than I remembered. God, that bathing suit is so tiny! Now if I can just figure out some way to get her out of it… 

Tossing the sunscreen onto the bistro table, Jan sauntered over to the deep end of the pool. Kelly couldn’t help but notice the way her aunt’s ass jiggled as she moved.

Stepping onto the diving board, Jan executed a flawless dive, then swam underwater to the shallow end. She lifted her head above the surface, then cast off the excess water with a single graceful sweep of the head.

Kelly was all but hypnotized by her aunt’s beauty, so it startled her when Gabby yelled, “Hey! Watch this!” She glanced back in time to see Gabby do a graceful swan dive.

As Jan swam back to the deep end, Kelly made her way over to the shallow part and seated herself on the top stair, the water up to her knees.

Gabby was swimming toward her. “Hey, what the heck? Are you just gonna sit there? C’mon – get all the way in, swim with me!”

When her little sister was close, Kelly reached down to pull the crotch of her suit to one side, exposing herself.

Now Gabby was staring at her older sister’s pussy, absently licking her lips.

“Kiss it,” Kelly said.

Slowly moving closer, the blushing nine-year-old pulled herself up far enough to plant a brief peck on Kelly’s sex, then lowered herself back into the pool and swam away while Kelly adjusted her suit.

Moments later, Jan splashed up next to Gabby. “Having fun?”

“Um, yeah!” Gabby replied. “I’m a little tired, though. Think I’m gonna get a snack and rest for a minute.”

Jan and Kelly were watching Gabby as the dripping girl emerged from the pool, both of them paying special attention to her cute little bottom. She grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders, then padded over to the table, where she sampled tidbits from the snack tray.

Moving over to where Kelly was still sitting, Jan said, “I saw that, you know.”

“Saw what?” Kelly asked innocently.

Jan replied, “What you got your sister to do.”

“Oh, you mean this,” Kelly said, and she tugged her suit crotch aside to reveal her bare sex. “I told Gabby to kiss it. So she did.” She looked up at her aunt. “Will you kiss it, too?”

It was hard to tell which of the two of them was more surprised by what happened next. Burying her face between her niece’s thighs, Jan ran her tongue up and Kelly’s slit a few times, then dropped back into the water, her heart racing like mad.

Gaping at her aunt in a mixture of astonishment and arousal, Kelly put her suit back in place and dove into the pool, swimming toward the water jet. Her body was on fire, aching for release.

When Kelly reached her destination, she grasped the pool’s edge, then pressed her groin against the rushing water.

Jan was perched on the pool ladder, watching the girl pleasure herself. Before a full minute had passed, she saw Kelly tremble, her niece’s eyes squeezed tightly shut as she came. Glancing over her shoulder, Jan noticed that Gabby was also watching from one of the deck chairs.

Jan decided to give Kelly some space, so she climbed out of the pool, dried off, then sat down in the deck chair next to Gabby’s. Kelly joined them a few minutes later. Nibbling on the snacks, they made idle chat, deliberately saying nothing about what had just happened.

After a while, Jan asked the girls if they wanted to use the hot tub. Gabby liked the idea, while Kelly said, “I’m gonna shower and put some clothes on. Do we need to dress up for the restaurant, or can I wear what I had on?”

“What you had on will be fine,” Jan answered.

“Cool! Well, I’ll see you guys later,” Kelly said. Both Gabby and Jan watched Kelly as she walked away, admiring her body in the tight one-piece.

“Well. come on, kiddo,” said Jan. patting Gabby’s arm. “Let’s hit the hot tub.”

Moments later, they were blissfully relaxing in the steaming water.

Jan finally spoke. “Gabby? How are things with Kelly?” Seeing the questioning look on Gabby’s face, she added, “Since she came out of her coma, I mean. Is it harder for you to get along with her? Is she good to you, or does she ever make you feel uncomfortable?”

“I think she’s great,” Gabby said. “I mean, it’s weird how she can’t remember how things were, and she can’t remember all the people she used to know. But I… I kinda like that now, Kelly needs me more. She’s nicer to me, too – not so bossy. And we spend lots more time together than we used to.”

“Hmmm… that sounds like a good thing. Have you done things together that you hadn’t before?”

“Um, I don’t know,” Gabby said, suddenly unable to meet Jan’s steady gaze. “Uh, like what?”

Jan studied the nine-year-old, observing her reaction. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, trying to seem casual about asking. “Any new experiences that you two are sharing. I’m just curious about how things might have changed between you and Kelly.”

Gabby appeared to be very interested in the bubbling water. “Well, you know she started speaking Spanish, right? She’s been teaching me a little of it. I haven’t learned much, though.”

“Well, it sounds as if you’ve still got a good relationship going with Kelly. That’s what really matters.” She’s not ready to talk about it, Jan decided. It seems like she wants to, though. Maybe tomorrow.

They sat quietly for a while. Then Jan noticed Gabby’s shoulder moving slightly. Oho! she thought. The little minx is touching herself. This could get interesting…

“Aunt Jan?” Gabby timidly began, then seemed to think better of it. “Um… never mind.”

“Did you need to talk to me about something, Gabby?” Jan paused for a moment, then added, “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m here for you; I always will be.”

Gabby nodded, but didn’t speak. Jan simply waited. Whatever it is, she wants to tell me.

The girl’s barely perceptible movements and the slight tremor in her breath told Jan that her niece was still masturbating. Sure enough, Gabby tensed just enough to make it clear that she’d climaxed.

My God, Jan told herself. What an incredible sight.

Gabby’s eyes slowly opened. “Aunt Jan,” she said, “it’s not wrong for girls to – to do stuff together, is it?”

It was exactly what Jan had hoped to hear. “What kind of stuff?” she asked, loving the bashful look on Gabby’s face.

“Uh, stuff like kissing… or maybe looking at each other with no clothes on.”

“No, it’s not at all wrong to do those things,” Jan answered. “In fact, it’s very common for girls to kiss one another… or to want to see other girls naked.”

“What if they’re sisters?” Gabby asked, looking away again.

“As long as it’s what they both want, there’s nothing bad about it.” Jan said gently. “Do you know girls like that, or is it something you were just wondering about?”

“Oh, I just sort of wondered.”

Jan waited to hear more, but Gabby seemed to be done with the subject. So she said, “Let’s get out and dry ourselves off. Kelly must be done in the shower, so we can get cleaned up and dressed before we go out to eat.”’

Gabby’s face lit up. “Yay! Sundae bar!” Clambering out of the tub, the child seized a towel and began to vigorously dry herself.

“Slow down, Turbo Queen! That ice cream isn’t going anywhere.” Jan climbed out, then took Gabby’s towel. “Let me do that for you, sweetheart.” Kneeling behind her niece, she gently ran the soft terry cloth over the girl’s body.

“That feels nice, Aunt Jan,” Gabby declared, then added with a giggle, “I want you to dry me off all the time!”

“Oh, I’d love that!” She tousled the girl’s hair, then began to dry herself.

It didn’t escape Jan’s attention that Gabby kept sneaking peeks at her while she dried off. Is she thinking about kissing me? she wondered. Or seeing me naked? She was still wondering if it had been wise to have chosen such a sexy bikini. How would she respond if I took it off, right here and now? 

She ran the towel between her thighs, still very conscious of her niece’s interest. Looks like Linda was right – Kelly’s been teaching her little sister about sex. But how much does Gabby know? Christ, if Kelly has her way, I might end up in bed with them both!

She sighed. It’s going to be hard to keep myself out of trouble until Linda gets back. I’ve got to be good, though. Maybe I should have a moment with the vibrator before we leave.

Tossing the sodden towel to one side, Jan began to gather up the leftovers from their afternoon snack, putting everything on the large tray.

“Aunt Jan?” Gabby suddenly said. “If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell Mom?”

Reaching for a nearby deck chair, Jan seated herself. “Come here, sweetie.” She patted her thighs, and Gabby crawled into Jan’s lap, nestling into her aunt.

Cradling the child to her, Jan murmured, “I will always, always keep your secrets, Gabby. You can tell me anything.”

Gabby gazed up at her aunt. “My friend Pam and me, we like to kiss. Sexy kisses. We touch each other’s, um, privates, too.”

“Well, that sounds like fun.” Jan said, trying to keep her voice steady. It wasn’t easy. “How old is Pam?”

“She’s nine, like me – and yeah, it’s way fun.” Gabby was relaxed now, satisfied that her aunt was okay with this. “So Pam’s big sister taught her how to ma-masturbate… then me and Pam figured out how to do that to one another! Cool, huh?”

“Very cool. Tell me – what else have you little devils been up to?”

“Well… Sometimes, Pam gets naked with her big sister Ali. I think sometimes they still do masturbating together. She’s sixteen, and totally hot. Pam said she’d ask Ali if I could see her naked, too. That’s okay, right?”

“Sure, why not? If Pam’s sister is okay with it, then go right ahead. No one’s getting hurt.”

“Good,” the girl replied with a nod.

“Let me ask you this,” Jan said. “Do you think your mother would be upset if she knew you liked girls?”

Pursing her lips, Gabby thought about it for a moment. “Well, um… I don’t know. Maybe. What do you think?”

Jan gently kissed the nine-year-old’s cheek. “She might think you’re a little young to be kissing or touching anyone, really… but your mom wouldn’t mind if you were gay. Not even a little bit.”

“Huh… yeah, I s’pose I am gay,” Gabby murmured. She glanced up at her aunt, her brow slightly furrowed. “Aunt Jan, how do you know Mom would be okay with me and Pam?”

Jan touched the tip of the child’s nose with the tip of her finger. “Ah… I can’t tell you that, sweetie. I’d be giving away a secret – and I always keep secrets, remember?” That should give her something to think about, Jan mused.

Sure enough, Gabby’s brow furrowed as she processed her aunt’s words. Before she could ask another question, Jan placed the girl on her feet, then patted her bottom. “All right, munchkin… it’s time for us to go inside, shower off and get dressed. We’ll be leaving in about half an hour.”

“Uh… thanks for talking with me about this stuff, Aunt Jan,” said Gabby. “It really helped.” With one last bashful smile, she turned away and quietly made her way indoors.

Deciding to go in herself, Jan took the tray and the untouched pitcher of tea inside, depositing them in the kitchen before heading upstairs to her bedroom suite.

On the way, she found Kelly standing in her office, studying the full book shelves.

From where Jan stood, Kelly’s damp hair smelled like the strawberry-scented shampoo she’d bought for the girls. Kelly was wearing a Bullwinkle t-shirt with cute blue shorts, looking every inch a clean, fresh, innocent preteen. Well, two out of three, anyhow, Jan told herself.

“You write books! That’s way cool,” Kelly said, hefting one of the volumes in her left hand.

“Well, I’m afraid they’re pretty academic. Not something you’d enjoy reading,” Jan said, trying not to notice the way Kelly was looking at her.

“What are all those books?” Kelly asked, pointing at the top shelf.

“My journals,” Jan replied. “I started keeping them when I was nine.”

Standing on tiptoe and tilting her head, Kelly read the spines. After thinking for a moment, she asked, “If you were doing journals that long ago, how come these start when you’re eighteen?”

“Well, I’d left all my old journals at our parents’ home when I went off to college, sealed up in a box. One day after they were both gone, your mother was cleaning up the house and found that box, which had been water-damaged. I think a pipe had burst. Anyhow, I asked Linda to throw them out.” She moved toward the door. “I’m going to take a shower and get dressed. We’ll be leaving in about half an hour.”

Jan turned and left the room. As she padded down the hall, that familiar desire pulsed deep inside, daring her to take Kelly, give the girl everything she wanted and more. As if she’d been stripped completely bare by her niece’s gaze – body and soul.

On to Chapter Eight!

by JetBoy & BlueJean

A brief summary of what has transpired thus far. (To get a more detailed breakdown of the earlier chapters, please see Chapter Links for descriptions)

Orphaned at the age of eight, sixteen-year-old Doris Sloane has spent half her life in a Catholic orphanage, where she was trained to care for young children. Our story begins when she is taken into service at the home of Victoria Shaw, a widow with three daughters: Melinda (ten), Sophia (eleven) and Becky (fourteen). Doris is thoroughly satisfied with this new life, but her orderly world takes an odd turn one night when she is seduced by her mistress Victoria. Surprising herself, Doris responds eagerly, fully returning the pleasure she has been given.

I

When I ventured downstairs the next morning to see to the girls’ breakfast, I had no idea how Mrs. Shaw would behave toward me. I desperately craved an affectionate glance from her, a soft word, a smile – something, anything more than the polite regard with which my mistress had always afforded me until last night.

But Mrs. Shaw remained business-like when she asked me to pass word to Mrs. Broomfield that she wished to have onion soup with the evening meal, and there was not even a hint of acknowledgement of the passions we had indulged in, nor that her soft mouth had kissed my cunny mere hours before. Indeed, had I not still borne a tiny red mark on my shoulder, where she had playfully bitten me in the midst of our pleasures, I might have thought I’d dreamt the whole thing.

I was beginning to wonder if I might be a mere plaything to my mistress, a toy to be used and discarded as she saw fit. The thought of it filled me with heartache, as well as anger at Mrs. Shaw for taking advantage of me. Was it not the way of things that the privileged took what they wanted from their lessers, without a thought for the consequences? At the same time, I was upset with myself for allowing it to happen. And the worst of it was, if she continued to use me, I would keep allowing it. Because I wanted it. I wanted it and could not stop.

II

For a rather plump woman, Mrs. Broomfield seemed to whirl around the kitchen like a dervish – a relentless force of nature that scrambled eggs, brewed tea, flipped sausages and bacon, and made sure the toast didn’t burn. To this day, I’ll never know how she juggled everything so efficiently. That said, her age did seem to be catching up to her lately, hence my assistance at breakfast time.

“Good morning, Mrs. Broomfield,” I said as I entered the kitchen.

She gave me her usual scowl. “Can’t say I’s had time to notice. Be a good girl and turn that bacon over ‘fore it ends up like strips o’ charcoal, would you?”

I picked up a spatula and flipped the rashers. “Mrs. Shaw asked if you might do some onion soup with supper.”

“Course she did. As if I ain’t got enough on me plate,” she grumbled, then gestured to the teapot nearby. “Make yourself a cuppa.”

I poured myself some tea, then took a seat at the table where I ate my meals – where the servants ate their meals. Because that’s what I was, wasn’t I? A servant.

Mrs. Broomfield spared me a glance when I heaved a sigh. “Our mistress workin’ you too hard, girl?”

“Hmm? No. No, I’m fine. Just a little tired this morning.” Emotionally tired, I might have added, but didn’t.

“Been burnin’ the candle at both ends, have we?”

I ignored that, not least because the old woman would never know how close she’d come to the truth. Instead, a question rose to my lips, and in spite of my better judgement, I gave voice to it. “Mrs. Shaw’s husband – what kind of man was he, Mrs. Broomfield?”

My query seemed to come out of the blue, and surprised me as much as Shadowglen’s resident cook, but I found myself wondering what the Shaws’ relationship had been like, and if my employer had been warmer towards her husband than she was to me. As soon as the thought entered my head I berated myself for it. Did I really believe I could ever be as important to my mistress as the father of her children?

“Mr. Shaw?” Mrs. Broomfield paused, and for a moment I thought she wasn’t going to answer my question. Eventually she spoke. “Well, it ain’t right to speak ill of the dead, and you didn’t ‘ear this from me, mind… but he weren’t a good sort. Drank somethin’ fierce. Not what you’d call a kindly man, neither. Truth be told, the bottle’s what done for him in the end.”

“But they were in love, weren’t they? They had children together.”

The old cook gave a derisive snort. “You’ve a lot to learn, girl. There’s many the marriage that has naught to do with love, children or not. All I know is Mr. Shaw was cold as a gravedigger’s bum, and he ‘ad a furious temper on ‘im. Ended up on the receivin’ end of it a couple o’ times meself.”

“How awful.”

Mrs. Broomfield made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Anyway, he’s gone now, and I don’t reckon Mrs. Shaw would appreciate you an’ me gossipin’ behind ‘er back, do you?”

“No, of course, you’re right. Forget I said anything.”

“Breakfast’ll be ready to put on the table soon.”

Draining my cup, I got to my feet. “I’ll see to it after I’ve roused the girls.”

“Right you are. And Doris…?”

“Hmm?”

“Cheer up, girl. You look like a bulldog chewin’ a wasp.”

III

Once the girls were up and about, the morning fell into its usual mad scramble – dressing and grooming the two younger girls, locating stray books and pencils, and reminding Melinda that speaking was usually preferable to shouting. Each girl demanded my attention in some way, yet despite being so hard-pressed, I hadn’t failed to notice Mrs. Shaw’s absence at the breakfast table.

Much as I adored the girls – even Becky, whom my interactions were far less frequent than that of her younger sisters – on that particular day it was a relief to have them gone from the house, as I was feeling increasingly uneasy.

Usually, their departure was my cue to take a short respite, stopping by the kitchen for a cup of tea and some toast before moving on to the day’s chores. On that day, I did go to the kitchen – Mrs. Broomfield had already gone to her next job until her return later that afternoon – but found myself much too restless to sit. I paced the room like a caged animal, trapped by a rising fear.

What if, having had her way with me, Mrs. Shaw now planned to cast me aside like a worn stocking, my services no longer required? Might I be… dismissed?

A cold knot of terror took shape in my belly at the very idea. The possibility of never lying with my beloved mistress again was painful, but it was a hurt I could endure. Losing my position in the Shaw home, though, would be a catastrophe. Despite my perplexing relationship with Mrs. Shaw, I had come to love my life there, and hoped that I might be kept on in some capacity once Melinda turned twelve and the girls no longer required a nanny. But to be cast out… Not only would I lose my home, but the chances of finding a similar position with another family would be all but nonexistent. And the thought of being at the mercy of the state once again made me shudder with dread.

Eventually, I managed to calm myself. Surely if Mrs. Shaw meant to dismiss me, she would already have done so. Besides, such callous behaviour seemed completely out of character from the kindly mistress I knew. Best to simply carry on as if nothing had changed between us, I decided.

The rest of my morning passed with little consequence. Chores were undertaken with military precision, tables and shelves polished until they gleamed; clothing and bedding ironed out so thoroughly not a single crease was given quarter. Immersing myself in work that way took the mind off things, but perhaps there was a hint of madness to it.

As the afternoon arrived, my mood was lifted somewhat when Mrs. Shaw joined me in the drawing room for tea. We spent an hour or more discussing the latest book I’d borrowed from her library, and I found myself glad of her company.

There was no mention of the passions we had shared, and I wondered in some fanciful, dream-like way if Mrs. Shaw might in fact be two completely different people. There was the stoic but friendly mistress who occupied Shadowglen by day – the churchgoer, the responsible mother, the modern woman running her own business.

And then there was the other Mrs. Shaw: the seductress. The one who emerged at night like something predatory, intent on satisfying her carnal desires, no matter the cost.

I couldn’t deny that I liked both versions of my lady, but I considered the possibility that perhaps there was another iteration of Mrs. Shaw I had yet to meet, a third personality that somehow reconciled the other two, creating a whole. Was it possible this elusive third dwelled somewhere in her past, concealed behind memories and events I knew nothing of? What had happened in Mrs. Shaw’s life, I wondered, to shape her into the woman she was?

But such mysteries were no concern to a mere servant girl. I would have to be content with whichever version of Mrs. Shaw decided to make an appearance – the mistress, or the seductress. But oh, how I longed for the latter.

She did not come to me that night as I lay awake in my bed. And so I made do with my own fingers, and the memory of her mouth upon my sex.

IV

Though a portion of the weekend was usually devoted to helping the girls with unfinished homework and school projects, I was otherwise free to spend my time as I saw fit. When I awoke that Saturday morning I had a very clear and resolute thought: Today I shall purchase something new to wear. It was a small thing, I know, but at that particular moment it seemed like the best idea in the world. I’d never had the means to buy myself much of anything before, and the thought of spending my own hard earned money on a dress or a new blouse filled me with a kind of fierce pride.

But I had another reason: I wanted to impress Mrs. Shaw. Not that I had the money or the need to acquire anything too sophisticated – I was still a working class nanny, after all – but if I came home with something smart and appealing, something that was figure-hugging and showed off my curves, what message would that send to my mistress?

Do you remember making love to me, my lady? I’m still here, still willing.

If that seems a little childish, a little needy… well, I suppose it may have been. But then, I was only sixteen, not yet the worldly woman I so longed to be.

When I let Mrs. Shaw know that I planned to take a trip up to town and asked her if she needed anything, she said no, she did not, but suggested I take Becky along. Her eldest was happy enough to join me, the girl’s purse filled with as much money as she was able to cobble together from her savings.

The walk to town was a good mile or so, but it was a pleasant day and the journey gave us a chance to talk. There hadn’t been much opportunity to spend time with Mrs. Shaw’s eldest daughter up until then, occupied as I was with the two younger girls, but I was as curious about her as I suspected she was about me. We’d become more comfortable around each other recently, at least, and there was only two years difference between us. Yet we knew so little about one another. I pondered ways of getting closer to her without seeming overly intrusive, but as we strolled towards the small parade of shops, it was Becky herself who made the first move.

“Do you think about your mother and father much?” she asked.

The question took me aback a little. No one had really asked about my parents before – when all of us orphans had such similar stories, there was little need to speak of it, I suppose. “Mama and Papa? Yes, of course. They’re often in my thoughts.”

“How old were you when you lost them? You mentioned it once, but I can’t remember…”

“I was eight.”

“Really? That’s how old I was when Father passed away. I think about him too, sometimes.”

“May I… may I ask about how he died?” I knew I was on rocky ground. It wouldn’t do to pry, and the last thing I needed was Becky repeating any of my queries back to her mother.

“I’m sure it was drink,” Becky replied after some consideration. “Mother wouldn’t tell us much. I knew he wasn’t well, though. I wish I could have helped him.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He wasn’t exactly the best father, and he was awful to Mother, but I was still his favourite. He used to read to me. Always from his own books, which weren’t that interesting, but it was his voice I liked. And just being with him, I suppose.”

“I have similar memories of my own papa. And my mother, of course.”

She gave me a look that was almost apologetic. “At least I still have Mother. I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose both parents.”

“Just remember,” I said to her. “When I tell you I understand how you feel, you’ll know it’s the truth. And you can always talk to me about anything.”

Becky laced her arm through mine and gave me a smile. The realisation struck me that somewhere along the way the two of us had become tentative friends. Being the closest to my age, and with little opportunity to socialise, I suppose she may have been my only friend during those days.

The town had a single clothing shop, a humble affair with two display mannequins in the small storefront that frequently rotated outfits: expensive looking party frocks, tweed suits, the latest tennis fashions, even a wedding dress or two. We browsed through their stock, almost more interested in choosing things for each other than we were for ourselves. Becky was the expert, of course. And though shopping for clothes was a new experience for me, I took to it like a duck to water.

Becky handed me a tight wool sweater in white and blue, its sleeves short and frilly. A long blue skirt in the same soft wool accompanied it. “This’ll look perfect on you,” she declared.

“It is rather nice,” I agreed, then as matter-of-factly as I was able: “Do you… do you think your mother would like it?”

“Oh, yes, it’s very fashionable. Try it on. There’s the changing booth over there.”

“As you wish, bossy boots!” I said, then took her selections to the back of the shop.

In the few short seconds it took me to pull my tatty old sweater over my head, the curtain of the booth had peeled back and Becky slipped inside.

“What’re you doing?” I asked, my hands instinctively moving to cover my chest, even though I was still wearing my brassiere.

Becky held up a pink cardigan with huge black buttons. “I want to try something on, too.” Before I could point out there was an empty booth next to this one, she unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders.

I certainly wasn’t going to act like a timid mouse in front of my young companion, so I simply slung the sweater over the rail and stepped out of my skirt. Becky followed suit, but my indifference seemed to have knocked the wind out of her sails a little. If her goal was to try and embarrass me, I had called her bluff. Her eyes wandered over my body shyly, but she made no effort to look away, not that there was anywhere else to look in such a confined space.

It struck me how alike she and her mother were. Becky’s hair was a darker blonde, but she had the same shapely hips and flat belly, the same striking blue eyes. Like me, she wore a brassiere, but I found myself wondering if she had inherited the same firm, full breasts, or would do once she’d fully developed. Becky really was just a younger version of Mrs. Shaw.

I could detect her fragrance in that cramped changing booth: soap, shampoo; the subtlest hint of her own natural scent. We stood there and appraised one another for what seemed like an age, but must have only been a few seconds. When we found each other’s eyes, I was sure something passed between us. As if things weren’t complicated enough already.

I shook myself out of my reverie and slipped on the new outfit. I liked it right away, and thought Mrs. Shaw would too, so I decided to buy it. It didn’t escape my notice that Becky’s cheeks were slightly flushed as the shopkeeper wrapped my purchases with paper and string, and she kept giving me discreet little glances. It only occurred to me later that she’d stripped down to her underthings when she only had a cardigan to try on. Did she want me to see her that way?

V

I very much wanted to wear my new togs to church that Sunday, but elected not to, certain it would’ve scandalised much of the congregation – back then, churchgoers wore formal attire, and usually in dark colours.

I made up for it the next day, changing into the jumper and skirt before coming down to assist with breakfast. When Mrs. Shaw saw me approach the dining table, she lowered the morning papers she’d been reading and peered at me over the top of her glasses. I felt a little self-conscious, but I couldn’t deny the pleasure I felt at her look of surprise.

Later that morning, when the girls had been sent off to school, my lady called me from the kitchen. I quickly set my cup of tea down and took a deep breath, then hurried to answer her summons.

Mrs. Shaw was seated in her chair, a large Chesterfield with a good view of the garden. She smiled at me as I entered, and I did my best to appear calm, meekly intoning, “Yes, Miss?”

She stood, her eyes burning into mine. I quivered inside, but managed to hold her gaze as she drifted across the room to me.

And suddenly her soft mouth was brushing my lips in the tenderest of kisses. My eyes drifted shut as she cupped my face in both hands, then kissed me more forcefully, her tongue claiming me for her own. I submitted joyously, moaning into my lady’s kiss as my own tongue darted out to meet hers.

She broke away, then stepped back to let her gaze travel the length of my body with sultry regard. I knew how she felt… oh, yes, I knew. “I adore your new outfit, Doris,” she told me, her voice soft and measured in the face of the passion that I saw raging inside her. “But now I want you to take it off. Take everything off.”

And with that, I was filled again by that deep, throbbing heat I had no word for yet. My hands were clumsy as I fumbled with my new sweater and the matching skirt. Each time I glanced at Mrs. Shaw she was watching me intently, her eyes eager and greedy as she waited for me to finish peeling away the layers of clothing that concealed my body.

I stepped out of my knickers and straightened, completely exposed and on display for my mistress. I was an object to be used, commanded. My nipples ached for her caress, my cunny pulsing with an urgent need.

Mrs. Shaw reached out to gently touch me between the legs. I trembled, then breathed a sigh, welcoming her fingers as they began to trace the curve of my vulva. Though we had only made love once, she seemed to know my body like a well-read book – divining my pleasure, coaxing it forth, making it glow like some primal thing forged in arcane fire.

I was swaying like a sapling, on the verge of release. When she pulled away I choked down a frustrated cry and stood open-mouthed and heavy of breath, heart pounding in my chest as I stared at my lady with beseeching eyes.

She smiled at me, then placed a soft kiss on my mouth. “Very good, Doris. Collect your clothes and go to your room. Wait for me there… I’ll be along shortly.”

I did as I was told, blushing hotly as I gathered my things and exited the sitting room, then made my way upstairs.

Though feeling uneasy at first, I quickly discovered that walking through the house in the nude gave me a deliciously illicit feeling that I liked very much. I reflected again on the changes that had been wrought in me since my first encounter with Mrs. Shaw, the day I had been confined to my bed. I was the meek virgin who had been ensnared by sins of the flesh, tempted into forbidden carnal acts – and instead of feeling guilt or shame, I hungered for more.

Once in my room, I put my clothes to one side and lay down on the bed, awaiting my mistress.

A short while later the door swung open and Mrs. Shaw stood framed in the entrance, now as naked as I was. She stepped inside the room, and the way she casually left the door ajar seemed thick with meaning.

Unable to restrain myself, I rose and went to her. She opened her arms to me, and we embraced, our mouths meeting. She kissed me warmly, her lips lingering against mine, then gently drew away to stroke my hair. “Lie down,” she murmured. “I want to make you feel good.”

I longed to seem womanly, rather than the awkward girl I was, so I sauntered over to the bed and crawled upon it on all fours, peering back at my mistress while I allowed my arse to sway seductively. I slowly rolled over, my eyes locking with hers as I parted my thighs, offering her all I had to give – indeed, perhaps the only thing of mine she truly wanted.

It was all a thinly veiled facade, of course. For all my bravado, there was still something of the timid child in me. But the fire I saw in Mrs. Shaw’s eyes told me she was pleased by my boldness.

“Saucy bitch,” she purred, climbing onto the bed to kneel between my legs, her face so close to my sex that I could feel the warmth of her breath caress the moist flesh there. “Keep your eyes open, Doris. Watch me as I lick you.”

And with that, she pressed her mouth into the sparse tuft of hair that adorned my cunny, nuzzling and teasing me for a few brief moments before the wet heat of her tongue seared into me like a fiery brand.

My breath came in tiny, frantic gasps as I watched my lady claim me with her mouth, possessing me, yet also giving as much as she took, bestowing the sweetest of affections upon me. When she tasted me a few days before, I was so deeply enmeshed in the act of pleasuring her that I was scarcely able to truly savour the experience of being kissed and licked in return. Now, though, I was fully focused on my own pleasure as Mrs. Shaw performed this wondrous act, with nought for me to do but gladly receive what she chose to give.

Her tongue wandered up and down, to and fro; then traced a circle round my tight opening before slipping inside again. I moaned as Mrs. Shaw probed me with that wicked, delightful tongue, wielding it like a soft finger inside my body. My hands clutched frantically at the sheets, legs quivering while the fire in my belly expanded, its heat flowing through me like warm honey.

Then her mouth was moving once more, gliding upward, latching onto the throbbing nubbin at the apex of my cunny – that wondrous, fleshy key that unlocked the most powerful feelings of all. A cry broke from me as she rapidly flicked at it with the tip of her tongue.

The very earth seemed to shift as I was consumed by a wave of euphoria, sweeping over me before I was prepared for its arrival. My back arched upward from the bed, and I clenched my fists so tightly the fingernails bit into my palms, leaving small marks there that would remain for the next few days – stigmata borne of true passion. At that particular moment, though, I barely noticed the pain. All I knew was rapture.

And my mistress kept kindling that rapture, stoking the flame with every touch of her lips and tongue, drawing forth more pleasure when it seemed as if there could not possibly be more. Higher and higher she took me, until I could bear it no longer.

“Please, Miss,” I gasped, scarcely able to speak, “please… I c-can’t…”

Mercifully, Mrs. Shaw lifted her mouth from my sex after adorning it with a few final kisses. She swept the golden tresses from her face with a toss of the head, then peered down at me with sparkling eyes while I lay limply, weak as a newborn kitten.

She lay down beside me, her mouth seeking mine, lips sweet and sticky with my juices. Her tongue slipped languidly between my lips to share the taste of our pleasure. I reached up to drape my arms round my lady’s neck as I returned her kiss, our tongues dancing together in a ballet of desire.

Mrs. Shaw gently drew away, then asked the question that I could already read in her eyes. “Will you make love to me, Doris?”

I saw the need in my mistress, burning fiercely in her gaze – and my only thought was of her happiness. Seizing her hand, I pressed my lips to her soft palm, then lifted my face to hers. “Yes, Miss,” I whispered.

She rolled onto her back, her body open to me, waiting. I raised myself to kneel on the bed, heart aflutter at the sight of my lady’s bare beauty. I hungered, thirsted for her.

Her luscious mouth demanded attention, and not wanting to disappoint I bent to kiss her, lightly tracing the lower lip with the tip of my tongue. She sighed with contentment, her lips parting, and I deepened the kiss, my tongue delving inside to meet hers.

I placed a hand upon her breast, her body responding to my touch with a faint quiver. I fondled the soft orb, brushing the nipple to tautness with my fingers, then pinching the tip, causing Mrs. Shaw to gasp in surprise. “Yes,” she breathed, her lips still moving against mine, the word more felt than heard.

Encouraged, I let my hand glide over to her other breast, this time pressing the flesh more firmly. I felt the gallop of her beating heart, and delighted in the realisation of how very excited my lady had become. And yet her tongue did not engage mine as we kissed; her hands remained inert by her side. She simply remained passive, letting me have my way with her.

A flash of excitement surged through me at the realisation. Mrs. Shaw was allowing herself to be taken, offering her virgin partner the chance to assume the role of aggressor.

I began to kiss my way down the landscape of her body, my lips tracing along the neck, pausing at the hollow of my lady’s throat. While I nuzzled her there, my emboldened hand set forth on its own journey, trailing over her belly and beyond. Finding the soft curls that adorned her pubis, my fingers curved to cup Mrs. Shaw’s sex, and I found myself awed anew by the raw heat that pulsed between her thighs.

Her breasts were before me now – soft, pale globes that demanded homage. I parted my lips, drawing a taut nipple between them. She gave a soft moan, her thighs scissoring together as my fingers traced the moist opening. Using touch to learn the music of her body, I found myself eager to discover which notes pleased my mistress the most without causing her to spend too quickly. Meanwhile, my mouth was occupied with her breasts – nursing from each in turn, then kissing the valley between them.

A gasp broke from Mrs. Shaw’s throat as my finger entered her. She stiffened against my touch, then cried, “Doris, please – lick me… taste m-my cunt… I need to feel your mouth on me…”

Lifting my face from her breasts, I slid down to position myself between my lady’s legs, poised there for a moment to drink in the sight of her sex – the fiery pink flesh that glistened so exquisitely. I cocked my head to the side and brought my mouth to it, planting kisses upon her inflamed lips before snaking my tongue out to sample and savour the warm nectar that flowed freely. When I slipped inside she held me against her with trembling hands, fingers tangling in my long brown hair, now loose from the bun I usually wore.

I explored the inside of my lady’s cunny for a while longer, savouring the sharp tang, then began to work my tongue over her once more, bathing the musky flesh with long, leisurely strokes.

“Doris,” she gasped, her voice thick with lust, “p-put your finger inside while you lick me…”

I paused to place a fingertip at the threshold of Mrs. Shaw’s sex, then as my mouth reclaimed her, I pushed the length of a digit into the heat of her vagina with a single fluid motion. She whimpered, a shudder rippling through her thighs. I began to roll my finger around inside her body, still servicing my mistress with my mouth as best I could, despite the way she writhed beneath me.

Her swollen clitoris had emerged from its sheath, a beckoning finger of flesh begging to be sucked. I joyfully obliged, drawing the inflamed node between my lips and circling it with the tip of my tongue.

An ecstatic wail burst from Mrs. Shaw’s throat, her entire frame bucking wildly. “Yes, yes! Oh, my g-gracious… ohhhh!” she cried out, clutching her breasts as she spent in my mouth. I drank deep of my lady’s essence as it flowed from her… a rich, heady vintage that seeped into my very soul.

Finally I felt her hand grip my shoulder. “No more, my s-sweet,” she gasped. “No more…”

I lifted my face from her sex; raised myself to a sitting position. Suddenly shy, I trapped my lower lip between my teeth, feeling timid and unsure as a schoolgirl. I braced for another brusque dismissal, telling myself not to fret, that these lust-driven liaisons were enough to sustain me, and surely more than a mere servant deserved.

But Mrs. Shaw extended a hand to me instead. “Come here, darling,” she crooned, her eyes warm with affection.

I sank into her embrace and she drew me close, arms twining silkily round my back as our damp, naked bodies pressed together. Her mouth sought mine, and we shared a kiss infused with the essence of our mutual pleasure, a kiss not of urgent requirement, but rather acknowledgement, grace; tribute.

We lay together quietly, listening to our twinned heartbeats, my lips touching her neck, her fingers trailing down my back to pause at the cleft of my buttocks. “Exquisite…” she murmured. “Simply exquisite…”

I breathed a sigh of relief and smiled, happy that we were able to lie in one another’s arms like this. “Yes, Miss,” I whispered.

At that, Mrs. Shaw drew back, looking thoughtful as she carefully appraised me. She smiled, lightly brushing my cheek with her fingertips. “Doris… When we’re together this way, I’d like it very much if you’d call me Victoria.”

Stunned, I gawped at my mistress, unsure I had heard her correctly.

“I’m your employer outside the bedroom,” she continued, “but here, we are lovers. Here,” she patted the bed for emphasis, “we are equals. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I replied, my heart and soul instantly alight with a blinding joy. “Yes… Victoria.”

“Good,” she whispered, and we cemented our new accord with a kiss.

And all at once we were there again, our kiss deepening as the heat of passion enveloped us anew.

With nary an inkling to the forbidden places our lust would take us in the months to come.

On to Chapter Four!