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Nanna Comes to Help, Chapter 1

  • Posted on April 30, 2015 at 7:00 pm

By Naughty Mommy

When my supervisor told me I’d been chosen to attend a special management training course, I was very excited. Here I was just 25 years old, a single mother lacking a college education, but through a lot of hard work I’d earned an opportunity I knew I couldn’t turn down. It would mean almost certain career advancement and a chance to make a lot more money.

The only problem was my daughter, Jordan. She was 7 years old and we were extremely close. Ever since she was born, we had not been apart for even a single night. I was totally dedicated to her. I rarely went out on dates, and I came straight home from work every night so I could be with her.

It’s not that I didn’t have plenty of people who wanted to date me. I was, I knew, considered an attractive young woman. I took care of my appearance and I liked being pretty. But I did it for myself, not for all those men (and some women, too) who made it quite clear that they would like to get to know me better.

My commitment, though, was to my daughter. I simply wasn’t interested in being with anyone else. I loved her dearly, and she was as devoted to me as I was to her.

That’s what concerned me. The training sessions were to take place in Minneapolis, halfway across the country, and I would be away for almost a full week. How would Jordan handle that kind of a separation?

I couldn’t take her with me. For one thing, I would be completely busy with my schedule: in addition to classes during the day, there would be lectures and discussion groups at night as well. And for another thing, I couldn’t possibly pull her out of school for that long. She was nearing the end of 2nd grade, doing very well, and I did not want to interrupt her education.

Finally I decided to ask my mother if she could come over to Spokane and stay with Jordan while I was gone. My mom lived several hours away, in Seattle, but I hoped she would be able and willing to make the trip, and she was.

“Oh, Stacie, that’s just wonderful, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked hard and you deserve it,” she told me on the phone when I called her. “Of course I’d be glad to come and help in any way I can.”

“Thank you so much, Mother. That’s a big relief. I know it’s not easy for you to get away, but I really don’t want to trust her to anyone else.”

“No problem, honey, I’m happy to do it. It’ll be fun spending time with my darling little granddaughter.”

We made the arrangements. My mom would drive over on the Sunday when I had to leave. She would arrive around 1:00, and my flight wasn’t until 4:40 that afternoon, so that should work out fine. I was pleased.

But now I had to tell Jordan. How would she respond?

My little girl and I were inseparable. We did everything together. She would happily come in the kitchen and help me fix our meal when I got home from work. After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes together, then I helped her with her homework if she had any, and then we would play games or read books or sometimes watch TV together until it was time for our bath.

We bathed together every night. It was a special time for us, a nice warm mother and daughter time. Then we put on our pajamas and got in bed together. She always slept in the same bed with me.

Jordan and I were very close — you might even say intimate — and I wasn’t sure she was prepared to be away from me for so long.

That night when I got home from work and picked her up at the neighbor’s house where she stayed after school, I told her we were going out for dinner as a special treat and we could go to any restaurant she wanted. She chose Chuck E. Cheese’s, of course, which was fine. We had a good time there, and in the car on the way home, I began the conversation.

“Honey, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What, Mommy?”

“You know I’ve been working really hard at my job, and you remember I said that part of the reason I work so hard is because I might someday be able to get an even better job, become a manager. You remember that?”

“Uh-huh.”

I glanced over at my daughter. She’s so adorable. Any girl that age is precious, of course, but Jordan is something special. She has the cutest little face, those big brown eyes, and such sweet pink lips. Every time I look at her I love her even more.

“It turns out,” I told her, “that I have an opportunity right now to do something really neat. It’s a chance to attend a training school so I can get a promotion. I didn’t think it would happen this soon, but they told me today that I’ve been chosen over six other people who wanted to go.”

“Wow, that’s cool, Mommy.”

“But the thing is, honey, I have to go away to another city for a few days to take this training. It’s pretty far, and I’ll have to stay in a hotel there for several nights. So it means I’ll be gone from Sunday night until Friday night, not next week but in a couple of weeks. It’ll be okay, though, because your Nanna is coming to stay with you and take care of you while I’m gone. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

“Um, I guess.”

Just then we pulled into the driveway of the little house we were renting. Once I got my promotion and had a bigger salary, I thought, we’ll be able to afford a nicer house in a better neighborhood.

“Let’s talk about it some more inside, sweetie.”

We went in and sat on the sofa together.

“Do you want some ice cream, or anything?” I asked.

“Not now. But can we maybe have some after our bath?”

“Sure we can. That sounds good.” I put my arm around her and squeezed her. “Now, tell me how you feel about having me go away for a few days while Nanna comes to take care of you.”

Jordan looked down at her hands in her lap. “Um, I know it’s good for you to go there for that thing. So I’m glad you can, but… but, Mommy, I will miss you so much!”

When she turned her little face up to me, there were tears brimming in her eyes. My heart just broke when I saw her that way. I grabbed her up in my arms and held her tightly, kissing her face.

“Oh, my baby, my sweet baby girl, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

I was crying now myself.

“It’s okay, Mommy, don’t be sad.” She patted my side. She was consoling me!

I released her from the crushing hug and wiped away my tears with the back of my hands. “I promise you it will be fine with Nanna here. She loves you very much, honey, just as much as I do.”

“I know.”

I held her face in my hands and kissed her cheeks again and again, then her lips.

“But, Mommy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Will Nanna take a bath with me every night?”

I smiled at her. “I don’t know, baby, but she might. I can ask her for you. Would you like her to take a bath with you?”

She nodded. “And will she, um, will she let me cuddle with her in bed at night like I do with you?”

“Well, that I’m not so sure about. Maybe. But probably not as much as you and I do. The kinds of things we do, well, we’re much closer than most mommies and little girls usually are. Or nannas and little girls.”

“Okay.”

I hugged my daughter once more, but this time not quite so tightly. “Thank you, sweetheart, for being so understanding about this. It really is an important thing for me to do.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to go take our bath now, and then have some ice cream?”

“Sure!”

*   *   *

Three weeks later, my return flight arrived at the Spokane airport at 2:15 on a Friday afternoon. As I put my luggage in the back seat of our old used car at the long-term parking lot, I heaved a sigh, then smiled. I was worn out but very pleased with myself.

Our intensive training schedule had concluded that morning, with two dozen students from all around the country, including me, being awarded certificates. I was the youngest among them. Most of the others were in their 30s, and a few were in their 40s. I was also the only one in the class without a college degree. Yet, at 25, I was on my way to a successful career.

I’d started four years earlier as a teller trainee at the credit union. Before long, I was promoted to cashier, and a year ago, I’d become head cashier. It was not just because I had a head for numbers, but also because I was good with people, a natural manager. Mainly, though, I thought to myself, it was because I was so dedicated to my job.

The other cashiers and tellers too often seemed distracted with boyfriend gossip, with personal issues, or with idle conversations about what to do on the weekend or where to shop for clothes. I stood out because of my steady focus on my work. The branch manager could sense that I was someone she could count on to be disciplined and responsible.

Now I was in line to become the next assistant manager and someday after that, perhaps, to manage my own branch office. It gave me a thrill to know how well I was doing. Soon there would be more money for Jordan and me. We could live somewhere nice, maybe get a new car, take real vacations together.

I’d missed my daughter a great deal during the five days I was away from her. We had talked on the phone at least once a day, but I longed to be beside her again, to see her pretty face, to touch her soft skin, to cuddle with her in bed at night.

That made me wonder how things were going between Jordan and my mother. When I’d called, my mom always said everything was fine. I hoped that was true.

I hadn’t been able to see my mother very much recently. For one thing, she and my father had moved from Spokane to Seattle several years earlier when he’d acquired a new business. And then, about two years ago, after my father had a sudden heart attack and died, she’d taken over running that business, a chain of small grocery stores. It was a lot for her to handle, and I knew she was working 60 or 70 hours a week. That’s why I’d been hesitant to ask her to come. I wasn’t sure if she would be able to take the time.

I really missed my mother. We’d been close when I was growing up. She was only 19 when I was born, and my father was much older — old enough to be her father — and he was always at work, so I didn’t see him very much. My mother stayed home and took such good care of me. She was young and pretty and I adored her.

So I was glad that she’d been willing to take a week off from her work. I was looking forward to talking with her and catching up. She told me on the phone that she’d decided to stay an extra few days with us after I got back, if I didn’t mind. Of course I didn’t mind, I assured her. It would be nice to be together again.

As soon as I pulled into the driveway, the front door burst open and Jordan came racing out. I got out of the car and received the biggest hug I think I’ve ever had. I picked her up and squeezed her, and she wrapped her little legs around my waist. She kept kissing my face all over, saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”

I knew I was loved and that I had been missed.

I finally put her down and we went inside, holding hands. I gave my mother a hug and thanked her once again for coming to take care of Jordan.

“Oh, it was great,” she said. “We had all sorts of fun together, didn’t we, darling?”

Jordan nodded, smiling happily, and took her Nanna’s hand too.

“In fact,” continued my mother, “that’s something we should talk about. But why don’t you go put your things away and change your clothes if you want. Then we can talk.”

“Talk about what?” I asked. “Did something happen while I was away? Did anything go wrong?”

I looked down at Jordan, but she seemed perfectly fine.

“Nothing bad. Just… there are things we need to talk about. But you get settled in first, like I said, maybe change out of your business suit, and relax a little. Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be nice. Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I took my luggage and my briefcase into my bedroom and left them, figuring I would unpack later. What in the world did my mother want to talk to me about? It couldn’t be anything bad, could it?

I quickly changed into a pair of loose shorts and a comfortable pullover shirt, then went back into the living room.

My mother handed me a glass of chilled white wine. “Here’s to the successful manager trainee,” she toasted.

“I’ll drink to that,” I smiled, and did.

Jordan wrapped her little arms around my waist again before I could sit down. “Mommy, I’m so glad you’re back!”

“I am too, sweetheart. I missed you a lot. Here, sit down next to me.” She and I sat next to each other on the sofa, but then something occurred to me.

“Is it all right if she’s here while we talk?” I asked my mother. “Because she can go play in her room, or outside or something, if…”

“No, she should stay. It concerns her.”

“It does? Is she okay? Did anything happen?” Again I looked at my daughter, but she appeared to be as well as ever, maybe better. She seemed extremely happy.

“She’s fine. Everything’s fine,” my mother assured me. Since our tiny living room had only the sofa, the TV, a bookcase, and a little table, she had brought in one of our two chairs from the kitchen table. She pulled the chair closer to me so she could put her hand on my knee while we talked.

“So, what is it?” I asked impatiently.

As she took a sip of wine, my mother patted my leg and smiled. Then she began, “Okay, I’ll tell you. The first night, last Sunday, after you left, Jordan and I had our supper, and after that we took a bath together, just as you and she had asked. That was nice. I liked doing it. She also asked if she could sleep with me, the way the two of you sleep together.”

“Uh-oh.” I was afraid I knew where this might be going. Some of the things that Jordan and I do in bed together, well, let’s just say it’s not exactly typical behavior between a mother and a daughter.

“So, we got into your bed,” my mother went on, “and she cuddled up to me, and then right away she started putting her hands on, well, you know, on my breasts. She started playing with my tits.”

“Uh-oh,” I murmured again. This could be trouble. But if it was, why was she smiling while she told me about it?

“At first, I wasn’t sure what to think,” my mother said, as she gently caressed my knee. Then she looked over at Jordan, giving her a wink. Jordan smiled.

“You know, she’s just a 7-year-old little girl, she’s so sweet and innocent, but here she is, grabbing my tits and squeezing my nipples, and… well, I have to admit, it felt very nice,” she chuckled.

“It — you mean, you didn’t mind?” I stammered.

That was the biggest reason I’d been concerned about having my daughter spend the night with anyone except me: she is a very affectionate child, and some people might take some of the things she does the wrong way.

But if I understood right, my mother was saying she didn’t mind having her breasts groped by a little girl — in fact, the way she was looking at me now made me think she liked it a lot!

“So, you’re… you’re not upset?”

“No, honey, I’m not upset.” She slid her hand a little bit up my thigh. Her touch was warm. “As I said, it felt very nice. I enjoyed it. We cuddled that way and I let her fondle my breasts and play with my nipples as much as she wanted.”

I shook my head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

My mother got up from the chair and squeezed in next to me on the small sofa, putting her arm around my shoulders. The sexy hot pink dress she was wearing had silver snaps all the way down the front, but she’d left most of them open above the knees. And when she crossed her legs, the dress split nearly to the top of her tanned thigh.

She sure does have nice legs, I thought to myself. I did too, and I had her to thank for that.

“You know, Stacie,” she said, “it’s been a very long time since anyone has touched me that way, so intimately. Since your father passed away, I haven’t seen anyone else, partly because I’ve been so busy, but also because I just haven’t met anyone I really liked. And frankly, even before your father died, he and I hadn’t had a very active relationship, in that way I mean, for quite a few years. I think now that I just didn’t realize how much I missed that kind of contact, having someone’s hands touching and caressing my body. I wanted that. I needed it. And even if it was just a little girl doing it, my own grandchild, no less, it still felt very good to me.”

I was stunned. I knew how nice it felt for me when Jordan fondled my breasts in bed at night, but I certainly never expected my mother to have the same response.

“So you, you let her play with you.”

I glanced down at Jordan on the other side of me. She was listening intently to our conversation and smiled brightly when I looked at her. I squeezed her hand, which I was holding in mine.

“Yes, I did,” my mother said in a sultry, almost seductive, tone of voice. “I let her touch me and rub my tits and play with my nipples, and I enjoyed it. Oh, did I enjoy it!”

What was — what was she implying? Did something else happen too?

“Well, you know, I, I guess I should have warned you,” I grinned, trying to be nonchalant. “Jordan and I, um, we have these little games we play. It doesn’t really mean anything, but I’m glad it didn’t upset you.”

“But it does mean something, Stacie. It does mean something.” And as she said that, my mother put her hand on my stomach, then slowly slid it up until she was touching my breast!

I wasn’t wearing a bra under my pullover shirt, and as her palm cupped my breast, my nipple immediately became erect. My heart pounded, and I felt sweat beading on my face.

What was happening?! Why was my mother touching me like this — and why was my body responding as though I enjoyed it?!

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

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My Angel Ariel

  • Posted on April 30, 2015 at 1:31 pm

By JetBoy

One of my favorite places to go in Miami is the nude section of South Beach, which just so happens to be within walking distance of my apartment. I’ll bring an umbrella for shade, a bottle of water and some fruit, plus my laptop and schoolbooks. I like that particular beach because I enjoy being naked in the outdoors, but also because I won’t be harassed by unwanted company. You see, among those who hang out there are some very beautiful, very gay Brazilian body builders who know me, and if some jerky guy won’t take “no, thank you,” for an answer, one of my friends will be happy to give him a quick lesson in manners.

It was Saturday afternoon on Memorial Day weekend, an unusually gorgeous day for Miami for this time of year. I was sitting on the beach and reading when I noticed a young girl of maybe fourteen walking alone on the beach, dressed in shorts, t-shirt and a hat. She was looking around nervously and seemed to be unsure of herself.

I put my book down and walked over to where she stood, giving her a friendly smile. “Hi there. Is everything okay?”

Startled, she flinched, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my gosh, you’re naked!” she blurted. “A-and you have hair down there.”

I couldn’t help but giggle. “Well, yeah, this is a nude beach, y’know… and I don’t shave my pubes. What brings you here, sweetie?”

She got embarrassed all of a sudden, looking away from me. “Oh… I heard that this was where, um, people could take their clothes off if they wanted to… and I kinda thought I’d come down and, y’know, see what it was like!” Giving me a shy glance, she continued. “I’m sorry if I was rude when I saw you just now. I don’t know why I acted like that… guess you sort of, um, caught me by surprise.”

“It’s okay,” I replied, placing a reassuring hand on her arm. “And you weren’t being rude – unless you jumped like that ’cause you thought I looked ugly with my clothes off.” I did a slow, casual stretch, flexing my body in a way that always drives guys nuts. “You don’t think I’m ugly… do you?” Damn, was I actually flirting with this underage girl?

“Gosh, no!” she quickly replied. “You – you’re b-beautiful!”

She had a wonderfully healthy, innocent girl-next-door quality to her that reminded me of nothing so much as a younger, much more innocent version of myself: dirty blonde hair that she wore in a ponytail, blue eyes, small breasts and slim hips.

She stirred something inside me that I didn’t understand at first. Something deep.

My attraction to her was so sudden and intense that it alarmed me. I’d been sexually intimate with females before, usually with other guys involved, but never before had I experienced desire for a girl as young as this.

It was totally crazy for me to be acting all sexy around her, but somehow, I found myself unable to resist – especially when I noticed the way she was checking me out.

I didn’t say anything, just waited for her eyes to drift back up to mine. When they did, she blushed again, embarrassed that I’d caught her staring at my body.

“So,” I purred, arching an eyebrow, “did you just come down to see the sights, or what?”

Nibbling at her lower lip, she hesitated, then leaned close to whisper, “The thing is… I’ve never been naked in public before but I, um, kinda wanted to try it. I mean, I think I’d enjoy it but I’m like, you know, totally nervous. Um, do guys get all up in your face?”

“They stare some,” I shrugged. “It’s no big deal, though. You get used to it.”

“I guess that’s okay. I just don’t want them, y’know, hitting on me.” She glanced nervously at my Brazilian friends, who were casually kicking a soccer ball around.

“You’re safe from that if you hang out here,” I told her. “Those guys are all gay, and they’re totally cool. If anyone hassles me, or even tries to, they chase ’em off.” I gave the girl a big, friendly smile. “Tell you what – why don’t you stick with me today? Been studying all morning… I could use some company.”

Her face lit up like a neon sign. “Wow, thanks! That’s so nice of you!”

I grinned. “Hey, us naked girls gotta stick together. You can get undressed and sit with me, right over there.” I stuck my hand out. “My name’s Chandra. What’s yours?”

And just like that, her nervousness was completely gone, the most angelic smile spreading across her face. “I’m Ariel. Nice to meet you, Chandra.”

She extended her hand and when I took it, I didn’t want to let go. So I didn’t – and hand in hand, we walked the few feet back to where I was set up.

I gave her a curious glance. “So, tell me, Ariel… why are you here all by yourself?”

“Oh, I couldn’t get any of my friends to come along, so it’s just me.” She spied my textbooks, piled next to my towel. “Looks like you’re doing homework. Are you a student?”

“Set your towel down next to mine… there you go. Yeah, I’m in summer school right now, and I’ll be a junior this fall at UM.”

“Oh cool. What are you studying?”

I gave her a knowing smile, folding my arms. “Ariel…?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s time.” I smiled and nodded in her direction.

“Time for…? Oh, right. My clothes. Um.” She glanced around, her nervousness returned.

I shook my head. “Don’t be afraid, girl. Go for it – you’ll be fine, I promise. Here. I’ll help you.”

Gazing warmly into those flawless blue eyes, I gently grasped her t-shirt from the bottom and pulled it over her head. Ariel wasn’t wearing a bra, although she hardly needed one. She had small, perfectly round, perfectly beautiful breasts, and I felt a warmth that didn’t come from the sun when I thought about how nice it would be to touch them. Then I began undoing her shorts, but quickly realized that maybe I shouldn’t be undressing her. With a shaky smile, I stepped back and let her finish.

Stepping out of her shorts, Ariel took hold of the waistband of her pink bikini panties, then gave me a hesitant look. I nodded my approval, and Ariel took a deep breath before tugging her panties down and daintily stepping from them.

She was lithe and elegant, with the figure of a dancer. I thought her mound was bare at first, but then I saw that she had a blond triangle of golden down so light that it was almost invisible. Now completely nude, she put her things at one end of my towel, then looked around. When she saw that no one was ogling her, she relaxed with a contented sigh.

Ariel had forgotten to bring sunblock, so I took out mine. Watching her apply the cool, creamy lotion to that exquisite body made me ache to assist. I settled for offering to put some on her bare back, which I loved doing – my coated fingers traveling down to the top of her pert little bottom.

I was utterly smitten by her.

I put away my book and my laptop, and we talked for a long while, taking a break at one point to splash naked in the sea, giggling and cavorting like the schoolgirls we were. At one point a couple of pale-skinned guys who must have been tourists made as if to come over to where we sat, but a couple of my Brazilian friends put a stop to that in a hurry. Thanks, fellas.

I got Ariel to tell me all about herself. She was fourteen and in ninth grade, totally loved science and wanted to be a biologist one day. She had pretty cool parents and lived with them in a nice house in the suburbs.

We talked about being naked, about school, music, movies, boys, sex, parents and anything else that took our fancy. At one point I asked Ariel why she’d been so surprised by my pubic hair when she first saw me.

She blushed so adorably, replying, “Well, all the girls I know shave down there, and so does my mom… I’ve never even seen hair on a woman’s, um, pussy before. I think yours looks totally sexy, though – maybe I won’t shave mine, either!” Spreading her thighs, she peered down at her own vulva. “What do you think, Chandra? Should I let it grow?”

It was all I could do to keep the arousal I felt right then from coloring my voice. “Oh, you’ll look hot either way, sweetie… but I do think that a woman’s pubic hair is sexy as hell.”

She giggled when I said that, and that made her look so adorable that I ached to take her in my arms and kiss that laughing mouth.

I’d never believed in love at first sight, but Ariel had me thinking differently. In fact, the hunger I felt for her affected me so much that I must have stopped thinking clearly. Why else would I have given in to temptation by saying what I did?

“Say, Ariel… Y’know, I live near here, in a high rise just a few blocks away. Like to see my apartment?”

She was delighted. “You have your own place? Cool. Sure!”

We got dressed, gathered up our things and set off. As we left the beach, Ariel and I waved goodbye to my body-builder chums. Just before we turned away, Jorge give me a wink that told me he knew exactly what I was up to, and I felt my face get really hot. Luckily, Ariel didn’t notice.

She and I chatted freely all the way to my place, and I found myself more enchanted with her by the minute. Not only was Ariel lovely, she was also incredibly sweet and smart as a whip.

Once in my apartment, I got us both glasses of orange juice, then gave Ariel the grand tour of the place. It’s not very big or luxurious, but she seemed impressed.

I had one regret about leaving the beach: now, we both had our clothes on. Thinking about it, I suddenly had an awesome idea!

“You know, Ariel,” I casually said, “I’m lots more comfortable naked, and I bet you are too. Why don’t we get undressed again… you know, before we hang out?”

If I’d had my wits about me, there’s no way I would even have suggested such a thing to a girl her age. What can I say? I was blinded by desire.

I wasn’t sure how she’d respond, but Ariel liked the idea, so we took off our clothes. I was tempted to ask if she’d let me undress her this time, but decided not to push it.

Once again, I drank in the wondrous sight of this golden nymph’s bare body. When Ariel sat down on the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest, that delicate sex fully exposed to my gaze… well, that was when I knew I had to have her, right or wrong. I’d never wanted anyone so intensely.

I put on a CD of funky New Orleans soul and began to move around to the music, finally breaking into a dance. With a joyful laugh Ariel jumped to her feet, already swaying to the rhythm. Her budding breasts looked positively luscious as they jiggled to her movements.

We strutted and shimmied around the room to the music, huge grins on our faces. The first track on the CD was one I knew well, called “Pass the Hatchet,” and I did a lewd dance to its hard, sexy beat. Turning away from Ariel, I bent down low and ground my hips, giving her a good look at my pussy and ass and praying she liked what she saw.

We continued to dance through the next few songs; then, as one track faded, Ariel made a “time out” gesture with her hands, then fell back into the couch. “Whew!” she gasped, fanning herself with one hand, “that was… so cool!”

While catching my breath I changed the music, putting on a CD of Bill Evans playing soft piano jazz before sitting down next to Ariel. By now, the day was drawing to its end, the room lit by the rich hues of the sunset.

“You’re a pretty good dancer, kiddo,” I told Ariel, lightly touching her thigh.

“Aw, I’m nowhere near as good as you!” she replied, blushing. “You move so… so sexy!”

I smiled at that. “Oh, I think you’re pretty sexy yourself.” Reaching for her hand, I drew my blonde angel to her feet. “C’mon, let’s watch the sun go down. It’s really something to see from up here.”

Hand in hand we walked to the sliding doors of the balcony and stepped out into the dimming day. Ariel and I leaned on the rail and watched the colors of the evening, all shades of red and orange mixed with the sky’s blue.

Ariel turned to me, touching my arm. “Chandra,” she timidly said, “I – I really like you…”

How could I have stopped myself from doing what I did then? Cupping her face in my hands, I gazed into the deep blue of her eyes, so in love at that moment that I seemed to glow like the disappearing sun. “Oh, Ariel… I like you too.”

I kissed her.

She stiffened a little bit as I pressed my lips against hers – and for a heartbeat or two, it seemed as if she was about to tear herself away from me. But then Ariel suddenly relaxed, opening up to me like a spring flower, two silken arms sliding around my waist.

Throwing all caution to the winds, I deepened the kiss; lips parting, allowing the tip of my tongue to graze Ariel’s mouth. She gave a tiny squeak of surprise, then began kissing me back.

God, her mouth was so soft and sweet that it made my head spin. I was completely sober, having had nothing all day long but water and fruit juice, but right then I felt positively drunk on this scrumptious girl of fourteen. My good sense had deserted me completely; all I saw was her.

I’d intended to take things slowly with Ariel, not rush her into anything. But the way she pressed her body against mine, the pounding of her heart, the eagerness in her kisses – no doubt about it, this girl wanted to know the ways of lesbian love.

Gently breaking away, I gave the trembling blonde teen a warm smile. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, tracing her panting mouth with a fingertip while my other hand slipped down to caress her bare bottom.

Ariel gaped at me with enormous eyes, whispering “Oh, Chandra,” as she saw and understood what I craved. And then she gave me a tiny nod, smiling shyly as if to say that she wanted the same thing.

I reached for her hand, giving it a tender squeeze, then led Ariel back into the apartment and to my bedroom. She willingly allowed me to guide her to the bed and gently lay her down, giving me a look of adoration and perfect trust. If she’d shown even a hint of hesitation, perhaps that might have been enough to restore my sanity – but right then, this child of fourteen only wanted to be loved.

Kneeling above Ariel, I bent to nuzzle her neck, pressing my lips into the hollow of her throat in a open-mouthed kiss. With a low moan she wrapped both arms around my back, hugging me tightly, drawing me down to her.

Thrilled by my new lover’s passion, I kissed a pathway between her flawless breasts, then allowed my lips to slowly glide over one of them, extending my tongue to swipe at a nipple.

“Oh!” she gasped, clutching my head to her chest with trembling hands. “Oh, gosh.”

I placed one, two, three soft kisses upon the swollen pink bud, then took it between my lips to suckle. Touching her other breast, I could feel the frantic thrumming of Ariel’s heart – and the swelling of her nipple against my palm.

“Ooooh!” she cried, arching her body as if to feed more of her breast into my mouth.

I responded by trailing my fingers down to Ariel’s belly and between those lovely legs, lightly grazing her dewy slit. She was obviously aroused, but even then I was astonished by how wet she was. A shiver raced through her when I began to explore her sex.

“Ohmigosh,” she moaned. “I didn’t – didn’t know… Oooooh, Chandra, you m-make me feel s-so good.”

Raising my face from her breasts, I claimed Ariel’s parted lips with mine, kissing her more forcefully. She responded with a passion that thrilled me, thrusting her tongue deep into my mouth.

Ariel’s excitement was so intense that she was trembling all over. It struck me that I needed to bring her off quickly, so we could get into the more relaxed lovemaking I wanted us to share. So I sought out the tiny pearl of her clitoris with my fingers, gently teasing it with feather-light strokes.

She threw her head back, a wild cry escaping her lips as she broke away from our kiss. Her eyes widened in astonishment, then squeezed tightly shut when she began to come, shivering violently from head to toe, her mouth gaping in disbelief.

“Chandra!” she cried. That was the last distinct word Ariel spoke for the next minute or so. Instead she moaned and wailed as I kept rubbing her clit, my busy fingers driving her ecstasy higher and higher. Her voice rose to a tiny shriek, then she squeezed her thighs together, panting “Oh, oh God, no more – I c-c-can’t breathe!”

I withdrew my hand from between my new lover’s legs, bringing the wet fingers to my lips to taste. Mmmm, my favorite kind of candy. Her pussy was strong and sweet; just the flavor a young girl ought to have. Sugar and spice and all things nice, I thought, and that made me giggle.

Ariel’s eyes fluttered open, and she smiled bashfully. “Wow,” she said. “That was… wow!”

I wish that I could paint a picture in words, one that would show how beautiful Ariel was in the aftermath of orgasm. The temptation to tell her that I loved her nearly had me saying as much, right then and there… instead, I placed a hand on her belly, gently stroking it as if she were a kitten. “I guess you liked that, huh? Haven’t you ever had an orgasm before?”

Her cheeks flushed an even brighter pink. “Well, yeah… but just from, y’know, touching myself down there. It’s n-never been like that before. I mean, I felt it right down to my toes!” She raised herself onto an elbow, giving me a longing look. “Chandra?”

“What, sweetie?”

“Um… can I do stuff to you, now?”

I reached for her, enfolding my sweet Ariel in a warm embrace. “Of course you can,” I whispered, allowing my lips to brush her cheek. “Only I don’t want you to ‘do stuff’ to me… what I’d like is to be made love to.” And I traced the edge of Ariel’s ear with the tip of my tongue, making her shiver.

She turned to me, her soft mouth seeking mine, kissing me with a boldness that stole my breath away. I rolled onto my back, and Ariel followed, crawling on top of me, fondling my breasts.

It was a dream come true, letting Ariel have her way with me. She might have lacked experience, but she was intuitive and willing to learn. And I encouraged her along the way – telling my little lover what to do when she was unsure, letting her know when it felt good, gently touching her body in response.

She was like a child with a wonderful new toy, happily examining and exploring her prize. Kissing her was utter bliss – and she felt the same way, returning to feed on my mouth again and again. Then I cradled her like a child as she suckled my breasts.

Eventually, her hand crept between my thighs, shyly exploring the rise of my vulva. “You’re so wet,” she breathed, then I gasped in mixed surprise and pleasure as her finger slipped into me.

“Mmmmyes, baby. Fuck me,” I moaned. She obliged, carefully at first; then I had her put another finger in, telling her, “You can go faster… and deeper. Don’t be afraid, you won’t hurt me.”

Then I showed Ariel how to roll her fingers around inside my vagina while working my clit with her thumb – and soon I was bucking and rocking crazily, making the headboard squeak as I came.

I was winded, panting for breath; but when she sat up to examine her sticky fingers, then licked at them to sample my juices – well, seeing that got my motor pulsing all over again, especially when she grinned, “Mmmm… I like how you taste!”

Reaching out to take her hand, I gave it a tug – and she toppled over, right into my arms. Our mouths met, and we kissed for awhile until my heartbeat became steady once more.

Ravenous for more of Ariel, I suddenly rolled the laughing girl onto her back. She squealed, her face like something from a cartoon for an instant – then my angel relaxed, gazing at at me with the most adoring eyes.

I dipped my head to leave a feather-light kiss on her neck. She sighed blissfully, hugging me close. Breathing in the perfume of my new lover’s skin, I nuzzled her throat, the underside of her chin, her elegant jawline; then nibbled at her earlobe.

Ariel was quivering beneath me, her heart beating hard and fast – and I knew that her desire was growing sharp once more.

Saying a brief goodbye to her ear with a playful bite, I began to nuzzle my way down Ariel’s body, pausing to leave an open-mouthed kiss upon each of her taut nipples. I descended to her belly, loving this flawless girl with my mouth and tongue along the way.

Her navel was adorable, a cute dimple that demanded attention. I kissed it like a tiny mouth, my tongue darting playfully inside. She gasped, then moaned, “Oh, Chandra – what’re you d-doing to me?”

Rather than answer with words, I lightly cupped Ariel’s vulva. It felt warm and alive beneath my hand, adorned with soft down – like a newborn kitten, I thought, smiling to myself. Then my fingers sought out the moist center, opening her, carefully slipping inside.

“I love you!” she gasped, arching her hips against my hand. “Oh God, I love you…”

I could have fingered her to another climax right then, but my mouth was watering for Ariel’s pussy. So I continued down her body, leaving a teasing kiss on her mound as I positioned myself between those slender thighs.

And there I was, lying on my belly, getting the first up-close look at my new lover’s cunt. I had gone down on my share of women before, but had never pleasured a girl as fresh and young as this. I’d already smelled Ariel’s essence on my fingers and loved it, but now I was breathing in the scent of her right from the source – a heady perfume that made my head spin.

Closing my eyes, I moved in to place a single kiss upon that pretty pink slit.

“Mmmmmnnnyes!” she blurted. “Oh, Chandra, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

How could I disappoint her? Clutching Ariel’s thighs, I burrowed deeper between them, taking her cunt into my mouth. Her honey was beginning to flow, and I greedily slurped it down.

Ariel squirmed beneath me, staring sightlessly at the ceiling, cupping her slight breasts. “G-gosh,” she moaned, “that feels s-s-so oh, so good, Chandra. So good!” Her voice rose sharply on the last word, and I could tell that she was very close to coming.

So I used my fingers to spread her sex open, exposing the jewel of her clit. Trailing my tongue upward through the sweet rosy flesh, I lightly licked at the tiny nubbin a few times – a jolt coursing through Ariel’s body with each flick – then took it between my lips to suckle.

A choked cry exploded from Ariel’s throat, and she began to thrash about, hands scrabbling at the sheets. Oh, God,” she panted, “oh, God, oh G-god, ohgod, ohgodohgod OH! CHANDRA!”

I continued to strum Ariel’s clit with my tongue while gently squeezing it between the lips. I’d been taught that little trick by my first female lover, a friend of my mom’s who had enticed me into bed one night after she’d hired me to help out at a dinner party. It almost never failed to drive women wild – and right then, my fourteen-year-old partner was on the verge of a complete meltdown.

Finally, I knew she could take no more, so I withdrew, leaving gentle kisses on Ariel’s thighs as she caught her breath. Before long, I felt her tug at my shoulder.

“C-can you hold me?” she whispered.

I crawled up and into Ariel’s waiting arms, and she hugged me close. I heard her sniffle, then gulp; and to my sudden horror, saw that she was crying.

“Baby?” I whispered, my heart suddenly racing. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

“Oh, Chandra,” she sobbed, “that was s-so beautiful… no one’s ever made me f-feel like that!” She drew back, gazing at me with tear-filled eyes. “I – I love you.”

A wave of emotion washed over me as I gaped at this adorable girl, feeling my heart go out to her. “I love you too, Ariel,” I whispered, shocked at the realization that I was speaking God’s own truth.

I’d never told anyone I loved them before – at least, not since my parents, back when things were still good between us. But what I felt for Ariel at that moment was like having the sun inside me, warming my soul. It was beautiful, and a little scary. I mean, she was still just a kid!

Ariel didn’t give me much time to sort out this tangle of emotions, though. Before I could say another word her mouth was on mine, she had me in an impassioned clutch and giving me a clumsy French kiss that had my head spinning. My shy little lover was eager to return the pleasures she’d just experienced – maybe a little too eager.

“Ariel… Ariel!” I gently admonished as I broke our kiss, putting my fingers to her lips. “Relax, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Mmm, yeah – s-sorry,” she replied sheepishly, her cheeks a rosy pink. “But I’m just so, so, so excited! Oh, Chandra, I want to do everything with you… all the stuff you showed me.”

“Oh, I’m cool with that!” I grinned, lying back with both arms behind my head. “Don’t rush it, though. Be gentle at first… then, when you want to get all wild, it’s even better.”

“Okay,” she nodded. “That kinda makes sense.”

I gave Ariel my best come-hither look. “In that case… I’m ready.”

Soon we were kissing again, Ariel’s mouth soft as a whisper, her tongue engaging mine. Then she began to nuzzle a path down my body, and I gave myself up to her, completely.

My impressions of that time, of being made love to by this curious girl of fourteen – they remain fleeting, scattered. I was there in the moment, lost to all else. Ariel’s hands, fingers and mouth took me someplace I’d never been before.

Oh, she was new to this dance of passion, still a little clumsy and uncertain. But each caress, every touch, glowed so strongly with the warmth of affection that her lovemaking was transformed into something truly beautiful. Like a poem.

She lingered for a long while on my breasts, I remember that. My nipples seemed to delight her, and she explored many different ways of teasing them – with fingers, lips, tongue, even teeth.

I recall how Ariel pressed her face into my tummy, whispering “So soft,” adorning me with dozens of tender kisses.

Then there was the moment when she lay between my trembling thighs, her breath warm against the wet heat of me. She hesitated for a few heartbeats – was she gazing in awe, relishing her first close-up glimpse of a woman’s pussy? Or was she breathing in the scent of my excitement? I never knew… because when her tongue emerged to take that first lick, I was lost to all but pleasure.

She was a novice, of course. But at the same time she ate my pussy with such tenderness, such affection, that I felt bathed in love. First there was licking, then light kissing – then deep, hungry kisses, lips parting; her warm, wet tongue entering me. I’ve fucked my share of women and men, but have never been adored like that by a lover – before or since.

Suddenly I was coming hard, each new breath hissing through clenched teeth, cradling Ariel’s head in both hands while she continued to love me with her mouth. Before the first orgasm had faded, she began to suckle at my clit; I barely had time to gasp before another climax kicked in.

The next thing I remember is Ariel lying in my arms, covering my face with gentle kisses.

“Um… did you like that okay?” she asked, an anxious look on her face.

I was so giddy right then that I couldn’t help but laugh. She was puzzled at first, but burst into giggles when I grabbed her in a big tiger hug, rocking us both to and fro.

When I released her, I cupped Ariel’s face in both hands. “It was way better than ‘okay’, sweetie… you were fucking incredible!” And with that, I planted a brief but emphatic kiss right on her lips.

She grinned hugely, thrusting a fist upward in a gesture of victory. “All right!”

By then the room was pretty dark except for the lamp on my nightstand. I glanced at my alarm clock – 7:51 PM. “Uh, Ariel… I hate to bring this up, but what time are you supposed to be home? It’s nearly eight.”

“Oh… crap.” Ariel set her mouth in an adorable pout. “My parents are pretty cool, I won’t get in any big trouble… but I do kinda hafta get going.” She gave a wistful sigh. “Wish I could spend the night.”

“I wish you could too, sweetie, but…” I was smiling, but when Ariel mentioned her parents, I began to feel a little weird about what I’d just done – made love to an underage girl.

We got up and wandered out to the living room, where Ariel and I gathered up our scattered clothes and quickly dressed. No time to shower off, so Ariel washed her face and hands in the bathroom sink.

I didn’t have a car, so I couldn’t give Ariel a ride home, but she told me it didn’t matter – she’d could just catch the South Beach Local, which covers the whole area and only costs a quarter to ride. There was a bus stop a couple of blocks away, and of course I offered to accompany her there.

She wanted to kiss some more before we left the apartment, so we did. I was really getting mixed up inside, though – kissing Ariel got me all warm and fluttery in my tummy, but at the same time, that uncomfortable feeling was getting stronger.

We set off for the bus stop. She was incredibly chatty and animated, while my mood was subdued. Now that the heat of my lust was spent, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d done something very wrong. I had to keep those thoughts at arm’s length, though, while I was with Ariel – it wouldn’t do to spoil the moment for her. We made plans to meet for breakfast the next morning.

The bus was just a couple of blocks away when we reached the stop, so there was only time for a quick goodbye. We hugged and shared a brief kiss, and then the bus was pulling away, Ariel racing to the back and waving at me through the window. I waved back, then stood there until she was gone from sight.

My walk back home was a troubled one, feelings of guilt growing with every step I took. What have you done? I admonished myself. You seduced a fourteen-year-old. Practically a kid, damn it!

I tried to argue with myself. She wanted to, she was ready! And she loved it.

That’s a bullshit excuse, my conscience fired back. Ariel’s still a child, too young to know what she wants. If you let yourself off the hook for this, then what about your parents, what they did to you? After tonight, are you any fucking better than they are?

I gritted my teeth. That particular arrow had landed a direct bulls-eye.

Years after the fact, I still harbored feelings of bitterness about the sex games my mother and father had drawn me into at the tender age of twelve. They never touched me, just had me take my clothes off and watch them fuck. My parents had this weird thing about looking at my little girl parts while they fucked and fondled each other, and their excitement got me excited too. So I got drawn even deeper into Mom and Dad’s love lives.

The problem was that the sex started to crowd out the parent and child part of our relationship. However much I liked the hot, steamy antics we got up to behind closed doors, I was still a kid who needed her mommy and daddy. But at the same time, I was starting to want to break the No Touching rule, to join my parents on the bed and play grownup games.

It was a lot to grapple with, for a girl who hadn’t even had her first period yet.

Then one day Mom came home and caught Dad breaking the rule for the first time, licking my pussy. I was naked from the waist down and lying back on my bed, legs on the floor and my father on his knees in between. She raced into the room, screaming her head off, just when I was about to come.

Dad tried to bluff his way out of it, but he was stone cold busted – and Mom was pretty pissed at me, too. Right then and there, she pulled the plug on our sex play, forever. She yelled that since neither of us could be trusted to live by the rules, we couldn’t have the game any more. Period, paragraph, end of story.

So there I was, a child who’d been given a taste of sex and loved it, suddenly cut off. What made it even worse was that I didn’t really get my parents back, at least not like before. There was a distance between us, one that hadn’t been there even a few weeks earlier. Mom and Dad felt ashamed of what they’d done, and without even intending to, they were taking their guilt out on me. They were just going through the motions of parenthood now, and I felt the wrongness of it, not knowing how to fix things. Before long, I found myself despising them both, realizing for the first time just how badly I’d been used.

I began to act out, to get in trouble in school. I’d been a model student, never a problem to my teachers, but that changed overnight. I constantly talked back, insulted every adult who spoke to me and encouraged rotten behavior among the other kids.

My parents started getting alarmed phone calls from the principal, but what could they do? Mommy and Daddy knew perfectly well what was the matter with me, why I’d turned bad.

I got myself kicked out of school, so my parents basically washed their hands of me, shipping me off to a boarding school for what they called “troubled youth.” But not before I gave up my virginity to a sixteen-year-old boy, though – and I made sure that Mom and Dad knew about that, too.

After I did my time, I was sent to live with my grandmother in Kentucky, where I mostly behaved myself. I stayed with her until starting college, only seeing my mother and father on an occasional holiday. That was always an awkward experience; the three of us pretending everything was just peachy, like we were actors playing parts in some boring TV show.

At nineteen, I lived on my own and had nothing to do with my parents. Oh, they still made the occasional gesture of repentance, but I wasn’t ready to forgive and forget. Luckily, my grandmother had left me a generous trust fund to pay for my education, and I was using it to get through college without any financial help from Mom and Dad.

I resented my parents for initiating sexual activity with the twelve-year-old I’d been. Now here I was, on the verge of getting romantically involved with a girl of fourteen. I’d had full-blown lesbian sex with Ariel; even told her that I loved her! Jesus, I did love her, too – just thinking about that sweet smile and those warm blue eyes made me tremble inside.

Once I made it back to the apartment, it was a restless night for me. I spent it pacing from kitchen to living room to bedroom, then did it in reverse for awhile, asking myself: What now?

Then the fear kicked in. What would happen to me if Ariel told someone about what we did, and it got back to her parents, or one of her teachers?

A wave of nausea surged through me as the possible consequences of my actions sank in. I saw myself led away in handcuffs, pictured Ariel’s parents glaring at me with hate-filled eyes, saw my name and picture in the paper and on the news, heard the word pedophile hissing in my ears.

God, if this got out… my life would be over. Even if I didn’t get hauled into court, I would surely be thrown out of college, disowned by every friend I had. I’d have no option left but to go crawling back to Mom and Dad, ask them to take me in. The very prospect filled me with horror.

Somehow I managed to calm myself. Ariel was a smart girl; surely she wouldn’t go babbling about our lovemaking to just anyone. Still, there was no getting around it what we’d done was wrong. Ariel was still a child, practically. No good could come of our being lovers.

I knew what I had to do, and that it was the right thing for both of us. Still, the possibility of hurting such a sweet girl made me cringe inside. I’d have to be gentle, explain that while we couldn’t be sexually intimate, I very much wanted to keep her as a friend.

The next morning, we met on Lincoln Road for breakfast. God, she was beautiful. We hugged, then shared a brief kiss. She giggled as she playfully grabbed my ass, then glanced around to see if anyone had noticed. Her hand slipped into mine as we walked down the block toward the café.

I couldn’t wait until after we ate; this had to be dealt with now. “Ariel?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“I have to talk to you, sweetie.”

I sat her down on the front stoop of an old apartment building and began to unburden my heart.

When I was done, there were tears in her eyes, and I was fighting back my own.

“It’s not fair,” she whispered. “Can’t we go back to your place and make love again? Please, Chandra. Please?”

“Ariel, we can’t,” I pleaded. “You’re too young. It’s wrong… and it’s a huge risk for us both.”

She glared at me. “You didn’t care about that yesterday!” she fired back. “Why’s it such a big fat deal now?”

I was panicky, terrified. This wasn’t going well. “I – I wasn’t thinking… I didn’t mean to –”

“You’re lying!” she cried, her eyes smoldering with anger. “Y-you just wanted to – to do stuff with me. All those things you s-said, it was made up. You don’t care, not even a little bit!” She was crying now.

I felt like I was on the verge of fainting, barely able to breathe. “Ariel, please,” I begged, “G-give me a chance to explain!”

“NO!” she snapped, leaping to her feet, fists clenched. “I won’t listen! You wanna g-get rid of me, that’s all. Fine, then! I’m gone!”

Desperate, I reached out and seized Ariel’s hand before she could dart away, trying to say something, anything to stop her. But all my mouth could come out with was “No, please no, Ariel –”

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked, violently wrenching her hand free. “Fuck you, Chandra! Fucking bitch. I hate you. I hate you!” With that, she spun around and stumbled away, weeping piteously.

I was shaking from head to toe, a cold knot of pain tightening in my gut. Then I saw a city bus, coming to a halt at a nearby stop, Ariel running to catch it.

Paralyzed at first, all I could do was stare, a roaring in my ears as if the sea was trapped in my head, watching Ariel board. Walking out of my life. The bus door swung shut.

Then I was dashing headlong down the street, gasping, “No, no, no, no, no!” as the bus lazily drew away from the curb and nosed its way into the flow of traffic, then picked up speed as it moved on.

I reached the stop, but too late. “ARIEL!” I screamed, making one last-ditch, desperate attempt to keep her from fleeing. To this day, I still don’t know if she heard me.

People stopped, stared, then turned away. Nothing to see here, folks; just another emotional drama in the big city.

All I could do was watch the bus grow smaller and smaller, then finally vanish, swallowed up in traffic.

I slowly made my way back to the apartment – numb with shock, my head an abyss. God knows what I would have done or said if I’d run into anyone I knew.

As I trudged through the streets, I realized how truly lost Ariel was to me. I had no phone number, no email address. Her last name was a common one; there were probably thousands in the Miami phone directory.

I plumbed my memory for personal details. Had she mentioned what high school she attended? The street where she lived? I couldn’t recall. I’d been too dazzled by Ariel’s beauty and my attraction to her.

Finally I made it through the door of my apartment. I shut the door behind me, then sank to the floor, tears flowing freely. I lay right there for at least two hours, sobbing my heart out, torn between self-pity and self-loathing.

After awhile I struggled to my feet with stiff limbs, a pounding headache, and the imprint of the carpet on my left cheek. Shambling into the bathroom, I washed my face, then crawled into bed, burying myself beneath the sheets.

When I awakened, night had fallen. I rose, still dressed in the clothes I’d put on that morning, and wandered into the kitchen just long enough to snag a fifth of Grey Goose I had in the freezer. Then I curled up on the sofa, wrapped in my afghan, and proceeded to get hammered on slugs of straight vodka, occasionally pausing to cry again. Finally, I passed out.

Monday morning found me, ugly hangover and all, back at South Beach. Hardly anyone was there, including my bodybuilding friends, but I wasn’t there to socialize – I was clutching desperately at the off-chance that Ariel might turn up, looking for me. I’m sure I looked a perfect fool, hanging out on a nude beach with all my clothes on, but I had a class at 11:30. Anyhow, I waited as long as I was able, trying and failing to study, but she never came.

*****

Three years have passed since that incredible day with Ariel – and not a day has gone by since where I haven’t thought of her. The shame I feel for hurting that gentle, beautiful girl still lingers, no matter that I tried my best to keep that very thing from happening. I’ve had other lovers since then, both male and female, but never for more than a night or two. My longing for her still burns brightly.

I’ve always been a person with huge ambitions, eager to take on the world and make it mine. Deep down inside, though, one secret desire holds sway over all the rest: that one day, my angel Ariel will walk into my life again, and I’ll get a second chance to love her — this time, for always.

 

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The Two Ends of the Leash

  • Posted on April 30, 2015 at 12:54 pm

By JetBoy

I was lying on the couch, an ache in my neck where it was propped against the hard armrest. I didn’t bother to move, though, as the dull pain seemed to fit perfectly with my mood while I listened to my big sister’s pleading, desperate voice crackling over the telephone.

“…and so now I’m going to lose the house, if I don’t raise the money in two weeks. I don’t know what to do. Kris, is there any way you can help me?”

Megan fell silent, having reached the end of her latest tale of woe.

I gave a long, deep sigh. “I can’t, Meg,” I murmured, and she let out a strangled whimper.

In case you’re already writing me off as a heartless bitch, let me explain. The word my sister forgot to add to the end of her plea was again. A very important word, that.

You see, I’d been bailing my sister out of personal jams for years, loaning her money more often than I care to admit. She’d be behind with her bills, or lose her job, or some emergency would pop up – and there she’d be, at my doorstep with a new sob story. Megan could be responsible with money when she really put her mind to it. But then she’d get some crazy impulse or cockeyed scheme that would have her burning through her savings and maxing out every credit card, and suddenly she was back at square one. I love my big sister to bits, but this cycle she was locked into was driving us both insane.

The last time Megan came to me for money, I wrote her a check for $50,000 and told her gently as I could that it was a gift, not a loan, and that it was absolutely the last time. Period, paragraph, end of sentence. That, believe it or not, was only nine months ago.

“Megan, what happened to the money I gave you last year?” I was trying to keep the exasperation I felt from coloring my voice, clutching the telephone receiver so tightly it hurt.

I swear I heard her wince on the other end. “I tried to – to play the stock market… it didn’t work out.”

Obviously, I told myself. “I invested a lot of what you gave me in an internet seed company.” I was speechless. “You know – flowers, vegetable seeds.”

“Selling them online?” I managed to ask, finally. “Packets of seeds?”

“Well, yeah. And I had other expenses, you know!” she said, already growing defensive.

I sighed into the phone again. “Look, I’m sorry your investment didn’t work out. I feel awful about it, honestly I do. But, Meg… we can’t keep doing this. I can’t.”

“It’s not like you can’t afford it, Kris,” she said, a hint of anger already creeping into her voice.

“That’s not the point, Megan…”

“I can’t believe you won’t do this for me – and after all the times I’ve helped you!”

I sighed. The last time I remember Megan helping me was when I was seven, when she put a Band-Aid on my skinned knee.

“I’m sorry, Megan,” I told her again, “I love you, but I can’t bail you out anymore.”

From there, the conversation pretty much went to hell. Soon she was yelling, crying, and slinging insults. I tried to stay calm and rational, but there were limits. Finally, on the verge of exploding myself, I apologized again, told her I still loved her, and hung up.

Despite knowing I was doing the right thing, it felt awful. I really do love my sister – I even like her, most of the time. Being her safety net had grown awfully old, though. I’d given Megan a leg up so many times that now she acted like she was somehow entitled to my help. And blowing her top when I told her no really was the last straw. I do honestly want my sister to be happy and secure, but I’m not going to let myself be used.

That day, I spent so much time brooding over Megan and her problems that I was late leaving work. Before I left, I checked my voicemail and listened to her messages. There were five of them. At first she was still blustering and angry, then they grew apologetic. By the last one she was begging again, pleading for help or just a place to stay “until I’m back on my feet.”

Then when I got home, I discovered half a dozen more messages from her on the answering machine! By then, I was so frazzled that I deleted them all without listening.

I collapsed into a nearby chair, lost in thought. My sister claimed to need help, but I was no longer sure that giving her money was help. Really, it was more like feeding a bottomless pit.

She doesn’t need a loan, I thought, clenching my jaw. Christ, she needs a – a keeper!

And that’s when the idea hit me. The craziest idea imaginable – but it was also strangely inviting.

Well, I told myself, it’s not as if I’ve never taken over another woman’s life before.

It was ridiculous. She was my sister, after all. But once there, the thought just wouldn’t leave my head. I began to run through the pros and cons of it all.

The more I pondered my idea, the more intriguing it seemed. It would solve her problems, and let me give Megan the help she needed without being her doormat. Plus, I had to admit that the thought of it got me excited. I’d always had a secret crush on my big sister, ever since I first realized my attraction to girls back in high school. She’d been the first person I’d told after figuring out I was gay, but Meg had no idea that I’d masturbated to steamy fantasies about her more than a few times.

Of course, in order for this idea of mine to pay off, Megan would have to agree to it in the first place. I was almost certain she would refuse. But there was only one way to find out for sure.

It was a hell of a risk, revealing my secret self to my sister. But the possibility, however remote, that she might actually consent to my scheme – well, it was too enticing to resist.

After making up my mind to follow through with this insane plan, I decided to call Megan the next day and let her know I’d be dropping by. This was one proposal that would have to be put to her in person.

The next day was Thursday. I got to work early and spent some of the morning planning out details, on the off-chance that Megan decided to accept my offer.

Around eleven, I gave Megan a call. When she heard my voice, she immediately tried to launch into an obviously rehearsed apology.

I didn’t give her a chance to get started. “Megan… Megan. Listen to me. I can’t talk now, I’ve got a meeting in two minutes. There is something I want to go over with you, though, and it might be a solution to your problem. Can I come by tomorrow?”

I was extending a straw, and she clutched at it with both hands. “Um, yeah, of course. So… what is it?”

“I’d rather talk about this face to face. I’ll be there at eight, okay?”

She agreed, her voice buoyant with renewed hope, then we exchanged goodbyes. I knew she wouldn’t sound nearly as chipper when she got the gist of my proposal.

After leaving work the next day I drove home, took a shower, changed clothes and spent about an hour making myself look especially hot. Then I gathered up everything I needed, stuffed it in a brown leather carry-all, got back into the car and hit the road.

I felt excited and a bit light-headed as I drove, on my way across town to see my sister – and maybe, just maybe, change her life.

Megan answered the door, a bit surprised at how I was dressed. Instead of the casual clothes she usually saw me in, I was wearing snug black leather pants and a tight, sleeveless red top. I’d gone without a bra, and my nipples were clearly visible.

She came up and gave me a hug, her larger breasts pressing into mine, sending a ripple of desire through my belly.

Drawing away, Megan gave me a weak smile. “I’m sorry, sis. I shouldn’t have been such a bitch to you.”

“Don’t worry about that – it’s not important,” I assured her. “But we do have something to discuss.”

“Sure, c’mon in. I mixed up a pitcher of Cosmopolitans.”

We moved into the living room, Megan quickly pouring me a drink. I dropped my bag on the table and sat down in the big recliner. My sister’s lips pursed slightly when she heard the brass studs on the bottom of the bag click against the table, but I ignored her; this conversation wasn’t going to go the way she liked, and it was best to make that clear from the beginning.

“You said… you thought you could help me?” She began tentatively.

“No,” I corrected her. “I said that I might have a possible solution.”

“But doesn’t that mean…”

“No, I’m not here to give you money. I told you that I wasn’t doing that again, and I meant it. I can’t keep bailing you out, Megan. How many times have we been through this? And each time, you always end up back in the same hole.”

Megan looked sad, and a little hurt. I felt bad for her, but that didn’t make what I said any less true.

“No, money isn’t the solution.”

She spread her hands helplessly. “Then what?”

“What I’m about to offer you probably isn’t going to be anything you want, Megan… or even anything you care to know about, but it’s only fair that you’re given the option. It’s there for you, if you’re willing.”

“What – what option? Just tell me, for God’s sake!”

“I’ll get to it… but first I want to explain some things.” She nodded, and I continued. “Megan, you know that I’m gay, but there’s more to it than that.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I have interests that go beyond sex with women.”

Megan looked confused, but was listening; so I went on.

“You see, I’m not just a lesbian. I’m also a dominant.”

She tried to process this. “So… you like to – to control other women?”

“Yes,” I replied calmly. “I take female lovers, and then I make them mine… completely and utterly mine. Basically, I own them.”

“Jesus,” she whispered.

“All of which brings me back to this situation of yours. Megan,” I told her gently, “you don’t need money. Giving you more of it won’t solve your problem; it’ll just delay it for another couple of months. What you do need is someone to take care of you.”

“What do you mean? I – I don’t understand,” Megan said.

“If you want, you can come live with me, and I’ll look after you. In exchange, you’ll do what you’re told. It’s really not much different from a job, in a way… but you get room, board, and all your needs taken care of instead of a salary.”

She still wasn’t getting it. “What, like a maid?”

I shook my head impatiently. “No, not like a maid. Just listen. I’m talking about you giving yourself over to me.” I paused, and then dropped the bomb. “What I mean, Megan, is that – well, you’d be my sex slave.”

She sat back suddenly, eyes wide with shock. It had been staring her in the face, but she’d refused to see. Now that she had, she couldn’t believe it.

“This is… some kind of joke, right?” she asked me hesitantly.

“No, Megan. I’m completely serious.”

“But how? Why? You want to have sex with me? Kris, we’re sisters!”

I reached out to touch her knee. “You’re a very desirable woman,” I said softly, “and I think we could be really good together.” She only shook her head in disbelief. “Megan, stop thinking by society’s rules, give what I’m saying a chance. We’ve always loved each other as sisters… this is just taking our feelings to another level.”

She raised her face to mine, now pale with shock. “Jesus, Kris… how long have you felt this way about me?”

I could have lied and told her something less scary than the truth – something like, Oh, it sort of struck me last night, just how much I’d love to take you to bed. But I had to be honest with my sister, especially now.

“Since I was fifteen,” I replied, somehow managing to keep from looking away.

“My God,” Megan whispered, and she began to cry.

I sat quietly, hands folded in my lap, staring silently at my sobbing sister as the cold weight of reality settled onto her. She was in trouble, and this time no one was going to hand her the money to make everything go away.

“I’m sorry, Megan,” I said with a deep sigh. “I knew you wouldn’t like the idea, but I felt I had to give you a chance to hear it.” I slowly stood and reached for my bag. “I’ll just go.”

I turned to leave, but then Megan said, “Wait.” Her voice was heavy, sullen.

“What?” I asked.

She took a deep breath, as if trying to calm herself. “I should at least know what this involves. Tell me the details.”

“Are you sure?” I asked her.

“I should at least hear you out,” she mumbled bitterly. “I owe you that much, I suppose.”

“You don’t owe me…”

“Whatever, Kris… just fucking tell me!” She seemed close to hysteria. I guess I couldn’t blame her – this was a lot to absorb at once.

“Okay, but it’s not very complicated. First, I’ll pay all your outstanding bills. I’ll give you a room, food, and all your necessities. I’ll take care of you. In exchange, you sign all your assets over to me, including the house. Most of all, you give your complete obedience to me, and do what you’re told.”

“Wh-what kind of things would I do?”

“Really, you’d have to be willing to accept almost anything. You’ll have to do whatever I tell you to – dress the way I like, for one thing. And sex, of course. I get to fuck you whenever I want, however I want. There will be regular sex, some bondage, maybe even spanking. Some of it you might not like, some could even hurt, but you’ll never be injured. And some of it… you might really enjoy.”

She nodded a little distractedly, her cheeks bright pink as she stared at her knees. “Would you be sharing me? With other women?”

I shook my head. “No. My lovers are only allowed to enjoy sexual pleasure with me.” I saw her shiver at the word lovers – whether from dread or excitement, I didn’t know.

She suddenly raised her head, her eyes burning into mine. “Do you think I should do it?”

I was actually startled. “What?”

“Well, you’re still my sister, right? And you’re the one with all the good advice.” I caught a hint of sarcasm in those last two words. “What if someone else was making this offer? Would you tell me to go for it?”

I gave that a bit of thought. “I don’t know,” I finally said with a sigh. “If you honestly hate the idea of giving up control of your life, you’d be miserable with me. And you’re not completely without other options. You can liquidate your assets, declare bankruptcy – get used to living with less.” I shrugged. “You’ll be fending off bill collectors for years, at the very least… but you’ll still be your own woman.”

Nodding her head with a faraway look in her eyes, Megan seemed to close down for a couple of minutes. She was obviously thinking, but I couldn’t read her. Instead I waited patiently, giving her time to decide.

After several minutes of quiet reflection, her eyes met mine. “I’ll do it.”

I was too surprised to speak at first, but recovered quickly. “All right, then.”

“You fucking bitch,” Megan muttered, staring evenly at me, “I should hate you for this.” She slumped back on the sofa. “But I’m just… so damned tired. I can’t beat my head against the wall anymore, trying to make it and only g-getting by.” She stifled a sob. “So I guess I’ll be your little sex toy, if that means so much to you.” She was struggling with tears, but finally managed to choke them back. Closing her eyes, she sat motionless for a long moment, composing herself. Then she looked up at me. “When do we start?”

I fixed her with a steady gaze. “Megan, are you absolutely sure about this?” She gave me a curt nod. “Then it starts right now.”

“Okay,” she whispered, her face going slightly pale.

Standing, I said to her, “Come with me,” and led my sister into her bedroom.

I set my hold-all down and started going through her underwear drawers. Megan watched me passively as I started removing things and tossing them on the bed, setting aside a few choice items. That accomplished, I sprawled out on the bed, watching my sister. Her expression was still impossible to read. In fact, she wasn’t even commenting about my boots on her fancy bedspread.

I gestured toward the smaller pile. “Change into those.”

Megan said nothing, wouldn’t even meet my eyes as she started to undress. She didn’t try and make it a tease, but in a way her simple, unadorned movements made the act more provocative. She unbuttoned her blouse and pulled it off. Then she reached back, unclasped her bra and let it drop, making no move to cover herself. Next came her pants, and socks, then finally she was pulling down her panties and stepping out of them to reveal a neatly trimmed pubic triangle. She dressed with the same economical motions, and soon stood before me in white socks, a white t-shirt thin enough to show off her nipples, and tiny pink panties with white hearts.

I gestured to Megan to kneel, and she did without complaint. Going back to my bag, I pulled out a collar and slipped it around her neck. It was black leather with a simple D-ring hanging at the center of her throat. Her eyes were fearful as I buckled it; as if she realized for the first time what she was getting into.

She gave me a beseeching look, fingering the collar. “D-do I have to…?”

I said nothing, only folded my arms and gazed evenly at her. Finally, her cheeks crimson, she meekly bowed her head, staring at the floor.

I studied her for a few beats, then nodded. “Good.” I jerked a thumb at the heap of clothes I’d selected. “These are the things you’ll be bringing along. All the rest stays behind. I’ll buy you a new set of clothes later this week. Now go through your personal items, and figure out what you want to take. Only what you absolutely need.”

Megan gathered up a few photo albums, her old teddy bear, and a shoebox full of letters and postcards. Then she opened the top drawer of her night table and took out a small pile of books. I could tell by the way she held them that these were important to her, and wandered over to see what they were.

“My diaries,” she said when she saw me looking. “I’d like to keep writing in them.”

I nodded. “Of course,” I said, picking up one of them and idly flipping through its pages. I wasn’t reading anything, just seeing how she would react to me perusing her personal thoughts – she didn’t. Instead she began to go through her jewelry box, discarding most of the contents.

“These are the things I really want to keep,” she said, pointing at what remained in the box. “It’s mostly heirlooms or antiques, and a couple of special gifts. The rest is all the stuff I don’t care that much about.”

“You can keep the things you want, but mostly you’ll be wearing little or no jewelry.” I paused. “Of course, I might want to have you pierced in certain places.”

I expected her to register shock at that, but she simply nodded and began packing. A few minutes later, she closed the last suitcase. “That’s everything.”

I took out my car keys and handed them to her. “Go put your bags in the trunk.”

When she returned, I told her, “We’re leaving now. Put something on, but only on your lower half. The rest stays as it is.”

She wriggled into a small pair of denim cut-offs that went perfectly with what she had on, then slipped on a pair of cute pink sneakers. Straightening herself, she took a deep breath, then reached for her purse. “Okay… I’m ready.”

We walked to the front door in silence. As we entered the foyer, Megan said “Wait.” Opening her purse, she fished about inside for a few seconds, then produced a set of keys, handing them to me. “Here. This one is the house key, this is to the car. You can throw the rest away.”

She opened the door, emerging into the late afternoon sun, turning to take one last look into the home that had been hers for eight years. Then she strode away without so much as a backward glance.

I locked the house, we got in my car, and I started driving. After a few minutes, it became obvious I wasn’t heading to my place. My sister glanced at me, biting her lip, then meekly asked, “Where are we going?”

“To get your hair done,” I said.

Her eyes widened slightly, but she said nothing.

I pulled into the parking lot of a mostly-deserted salon. It was run by a friend of mine, who had kept her place open late as a favor to me.

As we got out of the car, I pulled another surprise from my bag. I went up to my sister and clipped a chain leash with a leather handle to her collar. She made as if to object, but fell silent, her cheeks coloring with embarrassment.

Trailing the lead in my left hand, I led her inside. My friend Sandra was there to greet us when we came in. She came forward and gave me a hug and a kiss while my sister fidgeted at the end of the leash. There were no other customers, only Sandra and her assistant.

Sandra gave me a look of admiration – flavored, perhaps, with a hint of envy. She is also a lesbian dom, with similar tastes to mine. “My, this one’s certainly a find,” she murmured, “how long have you owned her?”

My sister blushed hotly at that, but remained silent.

“Starting today,” I replied. “She’s making her debut.”

“So,” Sandra asked, “what’s your pleasure tonight? Here to get your pet groomed, are you?”

I gave that comment a small chuckle. “I am. Megan here needs a new hairstyle,” I said. “Something young and flirty. Nothing too elaborate. And no dye – I want the carpet to match the drapes.” That last got a laugh from everyone – well, everyone who wasn’t collared.

Sandra nodded, and I handed Megan’s leash to her. She took it and led my sister to her work area. I trailed along, to watch what happened. “This is Rosie,” Sandra murmured, “she’s my best stylist.” I gave her assistant a nod. She was a petite redhead with an incredible ass that seemed to beg to be spanked. I wondered if she had ever been one of Sandra’s pets.

Rosie tried to ask my sister’s opinion on a possible style, but Megan just shook her head meekly and mumbled, “It’s not up to me.” I was pleased to see my sister assuming a subservient attitude so quickly.

Rosie flushed a little, and looked at me uncertainly. I just smiled and told her “Use your own judgment,” and soon she was snipping away.

Megan has light chestnut-hued hair, with coppery highlights. I’d always wished for her color, but she insisted that I was luckier being blond. She never did much with her hair, though. She kept it long, and mostly just let it hang loose or pulled it into a ponytail.

Rosie cut her hair short, about level with her chin, then gave Megan a layered bob with razor-finished edges. It looked marvelous on her, and made her look younger. She was 28, but looked more like a college student with the new cut, maybe post-grad but still fresh and sassy. It looked good enough that I was a little jealous. Megan seemed happy with it, too, gazing in wonder at her image in the mirror.

“Oh, Rosie, that’s perfect! You did a marvelous job,” I told her.

“It really is nice… thank you,” Megan said softly.

“It turned out even better than I expected,” Rosie admitted, as she finished brushing away the loose hairs from Megan’s shoulders.

When she was done, Rosie led Megan back to me, a charmingly bashful expression on her face as she handed back the leash. I thanked her again, and handed her a folded bill.

“Here, this is for you.” Then, offering her my card, I said, “And this is for if you ever decide you’d like to try being on the other end of the leash.” I gave her a smile and a wink.

We got back into the car and pulled out of the parking lot.

“You really do look great, you know,” I said, turning onto the road.

“Thank you. I really like it, and I didn’t expect to,” she said.

A few minutes passed quietly, and then she said, “Can I ask questions? About this, I mean.”

“Of course you can.”

“Why are you trying to make me look younger? I mean, the haircut, and then you dressed me up like I was in – in an X-rated sleepover movie. Is it just because I’m the older sister?”

“No, not really. Though there’s probably a little of that there. Truth is, I just like the look. And since I can tell you what to wear, you have to deal with my tastes.”

She blushed and averted her eyes, but I could tell that this was very intriguing to her. I began to wonder if my sister had naturally submissive tendencies.

We pulled into the parking lot of a popular neighborhood café, which was pretty busy at that time of evening. As soon as I switched off the ignition, Megan put her hand on my arm.

“Do I have to wear this,” and she indicated the leash, “in there?” Her voice was tiny, terrified.

“You belong to me now,” I said evenly, “so you do if I tell you to.”

She was shivering. “Please, Kris… please don’t make me! It’s too – too public. I’m n-not ready.” She placed a hand on my arm. “Please…”

I hesitated. Truth be told, I hadn’t even planned to have Kris wear the leash in the cafe, not feeling the need to humiliate my sister. She didn’t know that, though…  and even if it wasn’t genuine, a touch of mercy given at such an emotionally charged moment might soften her up even more.

“All right,” I said very quietly, very deliberately as I unhooked the leash from my sister’s collar. “I won’t make you. Not tonight.”

Megan was nearly overwhelmed with relief. “Thank you – thank you, Kris!” she gasped. “I’m sorry, I was just afraid–”

I silenced her with a raised hand. “Don’t thank me,” I told her. “Just understand this. I’m going against my own desire as a favor to you. That won’t happen again.”

Her happy face instantly became sober. “I understand,” she whispered.

“One more thing,” I added, my voice still even. Suddenly I grasped my sister’s arm, violently yanking her across the car seat to me. A tiny squeak of alarm escaped her throat. My face was an inch from hers as I hissed, “I will bring you here again, Megan. It might be a week from now, maybe a month, maybe more – but I will lead you in there, and you’ll be wearing this leash. Only by then, you’ll be proud of it, wanting everyone there to know you’re mine.”

She gaped at me, made as if to speak, then stopped.

“Now come on,” I continued, “let’s go.” I got out and crunched through the gravel that filled the parking lot, not even bothering to wait for Megan. By the time I’d reached the door of the café, she was at my side and breathless, having raced across the lot to join me. Pleased, I held the door for her, gesturing my sister inside.

We sat down, ordered coffee and sandwiches, and resumed the conversation.

“So, why is it that you want to put me on a leash, anyway?” she asked, staring down at the table top, still a bit shaken from my display of force. “Is it to – to embarrass me?”

“No, in fact I’d rather you enjoyed it, or learned to. I do it because I like being in charge.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dominance is about control… making you do things. But something like making you pass the salt doesn’t really mean very much – you’d do that anyway. Getting you to do something you wouldn’t normally do is much more satisfying. And pushing you way past your comfort limit can be an incredible thrill – for both of us, sometimes. That’s a big part of it, but there’s another reason: you belong to me, and I want to show you off.”

“That’s… sort of childish, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, sure,” I grinned.

“Okay. So how come you aren’t making me calling you ‘Mistress’, or something like that?”

I made a dismissive gesture. “Hmmmf. That’s just… acting. It’s for people who get dressed up in spiked heels and corsets to play dom-and-sub games on weekends. I mean, if forcing someone to address you as, say, ‘Goddess’, honestly gets you excited, okay. Otherwise, I don’t see the point.” I studied my sister, intrigued by her curiosity. “Any more questions?”

Well… yeah. Why do you let me speak to you without, um, being spoken to first? I thought rules like that were, you know, the kind of thing dominants were totally into.”

I reached out to take Meg’s hand. “Look, sis… you’re mine now, and I’m going to use you as I please. But that doesn’t mean that I’m trying to turn you into a mindless Barbie doll. The reasons you mean so much to me as a sister are the same things that make me want to fuck you. Does that make sense?”

“I think so,” she softly replied.

“Now, it’s my turn to ask a question. I know this whole situation is weird, maybe a little scary. But on some level… you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

She blushed, then took a moment to ponder my words before she answered.

“I’m not sure. It’s all mixed up with everything inside. I’m still kind of in shock about things, but I think I might… might like this idea of belonging to someone. You being my sister makes it weird, but I have to admit that the whole idea is definitely – well, it is kind of interesting.”

“Good,” I said, giving her hand a little squeeze. “It’s a start.”

Our food arrived at that moment, and as the waitress left, I glanced into Meg’s eyes and firmly announced, “We’ll finish talking later.” Then I shifted my attention to the plate before me, as if my sister wasn’t even there.

She got the message, and we ate our meal in silence.

Once the plates had been cleared away and the check delivered, I dawdled over my coffee, as if we had all the time in the world. In truth, I was eager to get home with my new toy, impatient to play with her. But I also wanted to give Megan a lesson in the art of submission. Waiting is a huge part of being a slave, and I was interested to see how well my sister could deal with it.

She acquitted herself well – occasionally shifting in her seat, but remaining docile, showing no overt signs of impatience. I was impressed.

Setting down my empty cup and rising from my seat, I announced, “Time to go.” I dropped a twenty on the table, then we exited the café together.

Meg was silent, lost in her thoughts as I drove us home. I could sense her growing tension as I turned into the driveway.

“Leave your bags for now,” I told her as I parked. Meg nodded, a tiny shiver rippling through her when I opened the glove compartment and took out the leash. She paused to see if I would attach it to her, but I simply folded it into my left hand, opened the car door and set off for the front door, my sister following meekly behind.

When we were inside I told Megan, “Lose those shorts and shoes, but leave the rest.”

Once she had stripped down to her thin top and panties, I fastened the leash to her collar, then began to lead her deeper into the house, to my bedroom.

“You’re going to… do things to me now, aren’t you?” my sister said in a small voice.

“Bright girl,” I purred as we entered my room. It isn’t stylish, but it’s luxurious and welcoming. The carpet is plush, with extra-thick padding, so the floor is comfortable for any games I choose to play with my lovers. The furniture is soft, overstuffed, and upholstered in sensuous leathers and fabrics. Finally, there is a large canopy bed with velvet curtains.

I guided us over to a cozy leather loveseat and we sat down, facing each other. Megan was shivering slightly, and it wasn’t because she was cold.

So,” I said, placing a hand on my sister’s bare thigh, “now that you know your situation, do we have a problem?”

“You and me, you mean? Having sex?”

“Yes.”

“It’s wrong.”

“Probably,” I smiled, “but that wasn’t my question.”

“I… I don’t think so.”

“Good,” I said. Lashing out quickly, I seized her hair and jerked her head back, thrilling to the sound of her gasp. I pushed her back against the arm of the love seat and slowly arched her backwards, then I moved forward on my knees until I was straddling my sister’s waist. I looked down into her eyes and said, “Very good.”

Then I kissed her, hard and deep, forcing my tongue into her mouth.

Megan was too startled to react at first, but then she relaxed, surrendering herself to my passion. And slowly, tentatively, she began to kiss me back. She slid her tongue along with mine, responding to my movements but making none of her own.

Finally, I leaned back and sat up, studying her. Meg was flushed and trembling – from sexual excitement or fear? I wasn’t sure.

“Get on the floor,” I told her.

I was still on top of her, so she had to work herself free. I was pleased that my sister didn’t even attempt to get me to move. Instead, she shimmied her way from between my thighs and slid to the carpet. She knelt there before me, the slightest hint of a smile on her face.

My entire body was throbbing with anticipation. Meg seemed to be falling naturally into her role as a sub.

I turned to face her and sat back down, extending my legs out to either side of her. “Now take off my boots and pants.”

She wrestled the tight boots off one at a time, followed by my socks. Then, her lips slightly parted, Megan reached up and unzipped the leather pants. Grasping them, she tugged them down my legs and off. I wasn’t wearing panties, and her eyes widened even further at the sight of my shaved vulva.

“Kiss my feet,” I ordered. “Then my legs.”

Megan looked a little surprised, but took my right foot in her hand, lifted it up, and gently kissed it. Then she surprised me, sliding her tongue between my toes.

I loved the sensation of her warm, wet tongue, I loved watching her service me in such a lewd way, and I loved that it was my own beautiful sister doing it. Pulling off my shirt, I tossed it aside.

Now nude, I leaned back, purring with delight as Megan continued to pleasure me. She had finished with the foot and was working her way up from my ankle using long, soft strokes of her tongue – it was divine. She had to move up and lean forward over my legs as she progressed higher, past my knees. I felt the recently clipped ends of her hair trailing enticingly over my skin.

Soon Megan was licking my upper thighs, and looked for all the world as if she was about to venture in between them without being asked. I burned for the touch of my sister’s mouth on my cunt, but she had unfinished business.

“Don’t forget the other leg,” I said, and she bowed down to begin again with my left leg. I reveled in the gentle point of pressure that was her tongue as it brushed along my skin. Soon enough, Megan was nuzzling my upper thighs again. I reached down to stop her with a firm hand on the shoulder, then pushed her away.

Meg blinked foolishly at me as I guided her onto her back, then straightened myself to tower over her. I stood, gazing down at my new slave, heart racing like a wild stallion as I dreamed of the freaky, twisted incest games I would play with my big sister. I’d been an acting dominant for eight years; but what I now had with Megan was something new, so big and thrilling that it stole my breath away.

This was no time for reflection, though. My slave sister was lying at my feet, ready – if not yet fully willing – to service me.

Slowly, as if I had all the time in the world, I straddled Megan’s face. My eyes met hers, and I smiled. Without a word, I lowered my shaved sex to her mouth.

Megan’s tongue flickered out, barely making contact before jerking back. Then, when the sky didn’t fall, she moved in closer and started licking me with long, slow strokes. She didn’t really have any technique to speak of, but I’d expected that. I simply directed where I wanted her to lick by moving my pelvis, presenting new areas to her tongue, letting her explore the contours and folds of her new lover’s vagina.

It wasn’t long before she seemed to relax and grow a bit more adventurous. A surge of pleasure flowed through me as Meg brought her mouth into play, kissing and sucking at the wet flesh. For someone who, I was fairly certain, had never been sexually intimate with another woman, my sister seemed to have a hidden talent for cunnilingus.

I was shifting my hips as I fed Megan my pussy, squirming atop her face, enthralled by the soft liquid sounds her mouth made while she ate me.

Then I gave my sister another surprise, moving forward and shifting my weight slightly. Suddenly, Megan’s tongue was gliding over the crack of my ass. She froze beneath me.

“No one told you to stop,” I admonished her.

Gulping audibly, she complied. I felt her tongue slip back between my cheeks, brushing my anus.

“Harder… deeper!” I hissed.

And she did it. Her tongue was now burrowing between my cheeks, licking up and down the dark cleft. I was overwhelmed, ecstatic; my older sister was rimming me. Soon she was growing bolder, pressing her mouth into my asshole in a lewd French kiss.

“Oh, such a naughty, dirty little girl,” I moaned, scissoring my nipples with twitching fingers.

I could not believe this was happening. Whatever expectations I’d had of how Megan would respond to being forced into pleasuring me, it was nothing like the reality now playing out on my bedroom floor, with my sister turned slave eagerly feasting on my cunt and asshole.

Believe me, I knew what it was like to be serviced by a reluctant lover – and at that moment, Meg was anything but reluctant.

I let her lick my asshole for a while, then shifted again, guiding her lips to my throbbing clitoris. I couldn’t wait another minute to come; every atom of me was screaming for release.

Grinding my cunt into her face, I rode her mouth while she sucked and licked at me. I could see her glazed eyes from where I sat, and I forced myself to stare into them as the mother of orgasms smashed into me like a tsunami.

I fell forward onto my hands, shivering helplessly as jolt after sizzling jolt of pleasure ripped through my body – and through it all, Megan’s tongue continued to bathe my sex. “Not so fast,” I gasped, “s-slower.”

The movements of my sister’s tongue grew languid, soothing, carrying me down from the peak of ecstasy as my climax dimmed to a comforting haze. My tension dissipated itself with one long, deep breath, and I eased myself off Meg’s face, kneeling beside her.

She was a beautiful mess. Her hair was awry, cheeks flushed, face smeared with my juices. Her lips, chin, cheeks, even the tip of her nose all glistened wetly.

I bent down and gave her another kiss, my lips gently brushing hers. Megan responded with a passion that startled me, her tongue seeking and finding mine. Unable to resist, I returned her kiss with a renewed heat of my own, humming as I savored the sharp tang of my pussy on Meg’s lips.

Finally I pulled away, the two of us staring into each other’s eyes, both breathing heavily. I raised myself into a sitting position, trying to calm my pounding heart, my eyes never leaving hers.

“Up on the bed,” I told her.

Without a word Meg stood, then padded over to crawl, catlike, onto the canopy bed. She twisted herself about to sprawl on her back, her legs enticingly parted to reveal a wet patch on the front of her skimpy panties.

Quickly moving to her side, I roughly stripped my sister of those panties and her shirt, deciding to leave the cute little socks on her feet. “You did that well,” I said to Megan as I undressed her. “Was it really your first time with a woman?”

She blushed, then whispered, “Yes.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see how good you get with a little practice,” I said, then bent to remove a few sexy underthings from a wooden cabinet at my bedside. “Did you enjoy it?” I asked as I sat on the bed and started pulling on a pair of black stockings. Megan was watching me curiously, but didn’t comment on my actions.

“I think so,” she murmured shyly. “It was very different, and not what I expected, but… yeah, I liked it.”

“Good.” I fastened a garter belt around my waist and clipped the stockings to it. I moved back to the cabinet, this time pulling out a nine-inch strap-on cock attached to a harness, which I casually buckled on. Meg’s eyes widened as she took in the size of the thing. I remembered her telling me once about a guy who she’d dated for at least a year, giggling about his small penis. Well, she’d feel every inch of this.

I climbed up on the bed and knelt between Megan’s legs. Leaning down, I gave her a gentle, lingering kiss as I carefully positioned the tip of the dildo at her vaginal entrance. Without warning, I grabbed her hips and dug my knees into the bed.

Holding her tightly, I thrust forward, driving the entire length into her in one powerful stroke.

Megan gave a choked scream and tried to scramble away from the invading phallus. But my grip on her was powerful; she was unable to escape. Instead, she gave me a wounded stare.

“For God’s sake, Kris!” she gasped. “Th-that really hurt!”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t ready for that! You knew it would hurt.”

“Yes.”

She shook her head, confused. “But… why?”

“Think of it as an object lesson,” I told her.

“Wh-what?”

“I did it, dear sister, to show you that I can take you however I want, whenever I want. And,” I growled, rocking my hips back quickly and plowing into her again, “soon there will be a time when you’ll love for me to do you this way.”

I didn’t give her time for more words. I plunged in and out of her, fucking Meg with rapid, forceful strokes, giving big sister everything I had. It was harsh, even brutal. I knew that.

But I also knew how on edge she was. She’d been engaged in forbidden sex play for at least half an hour, and had yet to come. She was wet – so wet she squished with each thrust of my cock. She wasn’t ready for me when I first penetrated her, and I’m sure it hurt, but at this point that pain was just more fuel for the fire that roared inside her. After just a couple of those savage strokes I could feel her open to me, her body accommodating my assault.

And on the fifth stroke, she came. Her body arched violently, her fists pounded on the bed.

“Oh… oh, fuck!” she gasped. So I did.

I gave her no time to recover, no respite, no opportunity to catch her breath. I worked my hips like some kind of crazy piston, plunging my cock into her again and again. She bucked furiously beneath me, gasping audibly, fingernails biting into my back. But I continued to give it to my sister, hard, fast and deep.

Before another minute had elapsed, she came for me again. “Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH!” was all she was able to get out.

I moderated my pace after Megan’s second orgasm, using slow, long thrusts at first to give her a chance to recover. Once I heard her breathing normally I settled into a steady, constant rhythm. I pressed my body into hers until we were nearly nose-to-nose, locking eyes with my sister as I fucked her. Our breasts met on each downstroke, nipples occasionally brushing together.

“Put your legs around me, Meg,” I commanded. She drew both legs up to wrap them around my waist, squeezing me tightly with each stroke.

Then she stiffened beneath me and groaned as she burst into yet another orgasm – smaller than the previous two, but still plenty intense.

I claimed my sister’s mouth with mine, kissing her as passionately as I had ever kissed a lover. Her tongue instantly flashed to life, tangling with my own. My head swam, and I marveled once more at how easily my sister had given herself up to me.

She began coming regularly after that. Almost as soon as one was over, another orgasm would overtake her.

Megan’s body was shuddering in near-constant waves of bliss beneath me as she took all nine inches of my prick. That, coupled with the friction from the strap-on against my clit – not to mention the taboo eroticism of this entire encounter – soon had me speedily building to my own climax. As I felt its approach, I slid a hand between me and Megan. I sought out and found her clit, pressing down on the little bud with my finger.

The effect was electric. Her body shook and spasmed helplessly. Her orgasms, already coming closely together, joined into one continuous, raging storm of pleasure.

I kept driving into her writhing body, bringing myself ever closer to my own peak. As I came, I pinched Megan’s clit and twisted it sharply. She arched up, body rigid, and let out a loud keening wail. She held herself motionless for a few long seconds, and at the same time I ground the strap-on into her with my own orgasm. Then she went limp, falling back onto the bed in a sweaty heap.

I stared down at my sister in awe. Meg had come so hard that she’d passed out.

I carefully extracted the wet dildo from my sister’s body, then sat back on my haunches, gazing thoughtfully at her glistening sex. Reaching out to slide a finger through her nether lips, I collected a sample of Meg’s nectar and tasted it. Mmmm, ambrosia.

Unbuckling the strap-on, I tossed it aside. Then I sat down next to her and took Meg’s head into my lap, waiting for her to regain consciousness. A few minutes passed before she began to stir.

“Welcome back,” I said softly when her eyes fluttered open.

She blinked a few times, then gaped at me in disbelief. “Oh, my God,” she said, closing her eyes again.

“How do you feel?”

“Mmmm, a very tired, sore, and worn-out kind of wonderful…”

“I take it you’re satisfied, then?” I asked, chuckling.

“I’m not sure I can feel them – are my legs still attached?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, very satisfied.” She gazed adoringly at me. “That was… beautiful, Kris.”

Unable to resist a sudden impulse, I murmured, “You did amazingly well for your first time, Meg.” I stroked her face. “Hmmm… I think my pet deserves a special treat.”

And without another word, I slipped out from beneath Meg, then knelt between her thighs. I bent down to kiss her sticky vulva, then began to gently bathe her slit with my tongue, soothing the tender flesh.

I was surprised to find myself doing this. With my other slaves, I only went down on them as a saved-up reward, never for something as ordinary as a good performance in bed. But the hunger I felt at that moment for my sister’s pussy and this sudden desire to give her pleasure was too powerful to deny.

After licking Meg for a couple of minutes, listening to her sighs of contentment, I crawled up the glorious length of her body and into her waiting arms. We kissed tenderly, our tongues mingling for a brief moment.

We slowly parted, and my sister reached up to touch my cheek, her eyes moist.

“I love you, Kris,” she breathed. “I mean, I really, really love you.”

“I love you too, big sister,” I cooed. “Maybe, just maybe, we could forget sometimes that you’re my slave… and you and I can just be lovers.”

“I’d like that,” she admitted. “But not right away, though. I have to learn to be a good slave first. I want to… to serve you in every way you want, Kris.”

I stroked my sister’s moist brow. “When you say things like that, sweet Meg,” I whispered, “you make me very happy.”

She shook her head in amazement. “God, I never imagined I could want something like this. But now it seems so… so right. All those wimpy, boring guys I’ve been with…” She reached out to touch my face. “You understand me better than any of them did, Kris. You know me better then I know myself.”

“Shhh,” I whispered, taking my sister into my arms. “No more talking for now. Relax.”

We lay entwined for several minutes, then I rolled to the side, stretched myself, then told Meg, “Okay, time to get up. We’ve got to get you settled in.”

She rose unsteadily to her feet, then gathered up the few items she’d been wearing. I took my dressing gown from its hook and slipped it on, not bothering to fasten the tie. Reaching for Megan’s leash, still dangling from her collar, I told her, “Come.”

I led her through the house, down a flight of stairs to a room beneath the kitchen area. Opening the door, I ushered her inside.

It was a small-to-medium sized bedroom, with a queen-sized bed and simple furnishings. The room was plain, without much in the way of decoration.

“This is your room,” I announced.

“Servant’s quarters?” Megan questioned after looking around.

“Slave’s quarters,” I replied with a smile. “It doesn’t look like much now, but we’ll fix it up however you want. We’ll discuss that later. Now,” and my voice grew stern, “tomorrow morning, I expect you in my room by nine o’clock. If I’m asleep, don’t wake me, just sit in the chair near the foot of the bed and await my orders. There’s a lot more we’ll need to cover, but it can wait till then. Any more questions?”

Megan shook her head, obviously overwhelmed by it all.

“Well, you’ve had a taste of your new life. Do you think you can handle it?”

Megan smiled and nodded her head. “I do. It’s the hottest, best sex I’ve ever had… and with my own sister!” She clutched my hand tightly, then pressed it to her lips. “I want to be the best slave you ever had, Kris,” she whispered.

“Until tomorrow, then. Good night.” I drew my still-naked sister into my arms and kissed her fiercely, then turned and left, closing the door behind me.

I padded back to my bedroom, confused and concerned by the wild whirl of thoughts somersaulting around in my head.

My personal relations with the women who’d been my slaves – there had been five, so far – had ranged from cool to friendly, though I’d certainly felt a strong physical desire for each of them at the time. You see, a certain distance had to be maintained between keeper and pet, so the pet would do anything – anything – for a scrap of affection or a kind word. It was my most effective method of binding a slave to me, body and soul.

But what I now felt for my sister seemed vastly different. My body was still tingling from the sex we had just shared; I found myself already yearning for more of her kisses. I’d actually gone down on her after our first fuck, instead of my usual approach: to deny a slave the touch of my mouth until she was literally willing to crawl to me for it.

And what was it I’d said to Meg? “Maybe we could forget sometimes that you’re my slave… and you and I can just be lovers.” Where in God’s name had that come from?

Was I falling in love with Megan?

When I had the inspiration of making a sex slave of my sister, it seemed like a great idea if I could get her to go for it. I was feeling a sharp hunger for a new plaything, and I’d lusted after Meg for more than ten years. God knows, she needed someone to take charge of her.

Now I was beginning to think that I’d outsmarted myself. It looked as if this slave might be changing her keeper’s life, just as much as I would be changing hers.

Well, what the hell, I told myself with a shrug as I entered my room. However this plays out, it won’t be boring. 

Sighing contentedly, I shed my dressing gown, crawled into bed, and quickly fell asleep.

 

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A Daughter’s Seduction, Part Two

  • Posted on April 30, 2015 at 8:53 am

By JetBoy

“Mommy?” fourteen-year-old Becky called as she entered the house; dropping her school satchel to the floor with a thud, then kicking off her shoes.

“I’m in the bedroom, honey,” Connie called back.

“Hey, Mommy,” Becky chirped as she padded into her mother’s room in her stocking feet. She sat on the bed and watched as her mother, naked and still damp from her evening shower, briskly toweled her body.

“Hi, kiddo,” murmured Connie, hanging her towel on a nearby chair. “How’d the rehearsal go?”

Becky shrugged. “We worked on my big scene with Jimmy. It went okay, I guess.” She sighed, folding her arms. “Sure wish I didn’t have to kiss him, though… yuck!”

“Well, you wanted to be an actress,” Connie laughed. “That kind of thing happens when you’re the prettiest girl in the Drama Club.”

“I’m not the prettiest.” Becky muttered, embarrassed but pleased. She continued to watch her nude mother as Connie sat before the mirror, running a brush through her damp hair. “How was work?”

“I’ve had better days.” Connie placed the brush on her vanity table, flexed both elbows, then winced. “Ooof. We were down two interns today, so I had to sterilize two pallets of test tubes by myself. Now I’m all sore.”

“Want me to rub your shoulders?” piped the girl, a meaningful smile on her lips.

Connie grinned at her daughter’s reflection in the vanity mirror. “Well, I wouldn’t say no…”

Becky pushed herself up from the bed and moved over to where her mother sat, standing behind her chair. Placing both hands on Connie’s shoulders, she began to knead them gently.

“Oooooohh, that’s lovely,” Connie moaned, relaxing into the chair. “How’d you get such strong hands for a sweet little thing of fourteen, anyway?”

“Arm-wrestling boys!” retorted Becky. “I usually win, too.”

Connie opened one eye. “Please tell me that you aren’t really–” Then she laughed wearily, shaking her head. “Never mind, don’t tell me. That way I can plead ignorance when the principal calls.”

“Yeah… what you don’t know won’t get me grounded.” Becky snickered. Now she was rubbing her mother’s neck, working the tension away with her thumbs. “I don’t know if I like your new hairdo, Mommy… I think you got it cut too short.”

“I sort of need it to be short, hon… I’ve got to keep my head covered when we’re in the laboratory, and it’s just too uncomfortable for me with all that hair.” She gave a contented sigh. “Oh, man, that feels good…”

Becky glanced at the image in the mirror, feeling a rising excitement deep within as she admired her mother’s bare body.

Connie sighed once again, languidly trailing her fingertips across her belly as Becky’s massage gradually relaxed into soft caresses.

Finally Becky leaned in close to nuzzle her mother’s neck… then the eager fourteen-year-old began placing feather-light kisses and playful little bites around Connie’s ear, cheek, neck and shoulders. Then she wrapped both arms around her mother’s body to cup Connie’s firm breasts, her thumbs gliding over the stiffening nipples.

“Ohh, that’s nice… very nice,” Connie sighed. “Give me a kiss, babe.”

She turned her head and was greeted by Becky’s hungry mouth, which pressed eagerly into hers. The 32-year-old single mother whimpered as her daughter’s tongue darted between her parted lips, the young girl’s kiss filled with more passion than Connie had ever received from a lover.

“Do you want to, baby?” Connie asked as she gently broke away, gazing into her daughter’s eyes.

Becky nodded, taking her mother’s hands in her own, fondling them for a few heartbeats before placing them on her chest.

Connie palmed the budding breasts of her daughter, smiling as she felt Becky’s nipples grow taut through her clothes. Fingers made clumsy with sudden excitement, she unbuttoned the child’s top and slipped it off, quickly followed by the cotton undershirt she wore underneath.

Becky’s upper half now bare, Connie lowered her head to lick and nibble playfully at the girl’s breasts, one after the other. Becky moaned, welcoming the touch of her mother’s lips.

“Get up here, honeybunch,” Connie crooned, raising her face to Becky’s as she patted the nearby bed.

The half-naked fourteen-year old clambered onto the bed and stood, gazing down at her mother as Connie unzipped Becky’s skirt and pulled it, together with a tiny pair of light blue panties, down to her ankles.

Becky stepped out of the clothes pooled at her feet and posed, proudly nude. Her lightly-downed slit tingled and her nipples throbbed in anticipation of the pleasures she would soon share with her sexy mother.

“You’re so beautiful, Becky,” Connie whispered, reaching out to stroke the soft belly of her little-girl lover with trembling fingers. “A wonder to behold… a dream come to life. Do you know how important you are to me? And why?”

Becky hugged herself as she gazed adoringly at her mother. “Tell me why, Mommy.”

Drawing her little girl near, Connie allowed her parted lips to lightly brush her daughter’s nipples, then placed a trail of kisses that led, one after the other, down to Becky’s tummy. “Because you came to me, honey.” she whispered. “Because two marvelous weeks ago you offered yourself to me, without any coaxing or urging on my part. Because you knew that I wanted us to be lovers. Without me saying a word.” She pressed her cheek against her daughter’s angel-soft pudenda as Becky swayed to and fro, her face alight with rapture. “That was the most wonderful day of my life, baby.”

“Mine too, Mommy,” sighed Becky.

Connie briefly touched her lips to the girl’s mound, then wrapped both arms around her waist. Staring up at the dreamy-eyed girl, she smiled. “Want to lie down with me and get comfy?”

“Okay,” Becky giggled.

Soon mother and daughter were nestled together on the bed. Her arms wrapped around Becky, Connie placed a few soft kisses on the child’s neck. “Tell me something, honey… you mentioned it after we made love for the first time, but now I want to hear the whole story. Tell me about — well, how you knew for sure that I wanted you.”

Becky’s eyes fluttered open. “Right now, Mommy? Aren’t we gonna fool around?”

“We are, honeybunch, but first I’d like to hear about how you decided that you wanted us to be lovers. Pretty please?” Her hands wandered over the young teen’s silky-smooth frame.

“Mmmm… this feels so nice, though. Sure you don’t wanna have sex first, an’ then I tell the story?”

“Do it for me, honey. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.” She teased her daughter’s moist slit with a stroke of the index finger, and Becky moaned. “There. That’s a down payment.”

“Okay,” the girl murmured, taking a deep breath. “Well, we were in the kitchen, cleaning up after breakfast… an’ all I had on was my underpants and a t-shirt. I was washing the dishes when I kinda noticed that, well, you were sort of looking at my butt.”

“Mmmmyeah,” Connie murmured dreamily. “That’s what made me start having sexy thoughts about you in the first place — this cute little bottom.” She ran a hand over Becky’s firm rump.

“Well, I thought it was strange… ‘specially the way you were looking at my butt. It wasn’t like, y’know, I had a rip in my panties or something — it felt more like you were checking me out. Like a couple of weeks before then, when I wore my bikini to the beach for the first time?”

“Oh, yes, that day. You were quite the star, I recall — strutting around like the Queen of Sheba!”

“I never had boys looking at me that way before, an’ it was kind of cool… even if I already knew I liked girls better. Well, anyhow, the way you were acting that morning made me think of what it was like on the beach, being watched by guys.”

“Uh-huh… but you didn’t know why I was checking out your butt, did you?”

“Not yet, but I was kinda wondering. So the next morning, I wore panties and a t-shirt — but this time, I picked a littler shirt, one that didn’t go down so far. And you were looking at my butt again!”

Connie grinned sheepishly. “Oh, I’m sure I was…”

So then I started thinking, maybe Mommy likes girls too… an’ you were only checking my bottom out ’cause it’s cute!” She giggled. “I couldn’t even imagine you wanting to, to actually do sex stuff with me!”

“I wanted to, though,” Connie sighed. “You’d be surprised at how many times I was stretched out in this bed, touching my pussy and dreaming of you.” She placed a gentle kiss upon Becky’s mouth. “Anyhow, go on with your story. What happened then?”

“Well, like I said, I already kinda knew that I was gay, ‘cos me and Cheryl had kissed and made out… after that, boys just seemed boring. So when I started thinking that you might be the same way, I was dying to know if it was true or not! So, um… I sorta started watching you when we went places, like to a restaurant or the mall, to see if you looked at the girls there.”

“My goodness, you were quite the little detective, weren’t you?” Connie replied. “So how’d your… investigation turn out?”

“God, Mom — you were totally watching. You tried to be all sneaky about it, but once I figured out what to look for…” Becky giggled. “I remember when we were at the Cinnabon, an’ there were these two cute girls in line ahead of us — ’bout my age, wearing these tight little shorts… you couldn’t stop looking at ’em!”

“Oh yeah… I remember those two,” marveled Connie. “I made myself come that night, thinking about them.”

Becky giggled. “I thought they were hot, too. Anyhow… that’s when I figured I oughta check out your computer, to see if you had lesbian stuff hidden there. So I waited till that Saturday when you went to the flea market.”

“Oh, okay,” Connie nodded. “God, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why you didn’t want to come along. You were planning a little freelance espionage…”

Becky gave a snort of laughter. “Yep, that’s what it was, all right. Anyhow… I logged on your computer soon as you left, an’ sure enough, I found the files with all your lesbo pictures and stories in, like, a couple of minutes!”

“It took me hours just to learn how to set up files. I never knew you needed to hide them, too!” Connie shook her head, grinning wryly. “I’m afraid that your poor mother is definitely not a child of the digital age.”

“That’s for sure. So anyhow… I was looking through your photos, an’ I saw that all of ’em were of teenage girls. No women!”

“Well, you’d already figured out that I was attracted to young girls, right? Because of that day at the mall.”

“Yeah, Mommy — but I figured you liked grownup women too. You didn’t have any naked pictures of them, though…”

Connie shrugged. “It’s the way I am, honey. I’ve always been aroused more by girls… ever since I began to develop. Mmmm, s’pose I just never grew out of it.” She was stroking her breasts, teasing the swollen nipples with her fingertips.

“Okay, so… I started going through the stories, and guess what I noticed then!”

Connie’s voice was thickening with desire. “Don’t tease me, child… tell me.”

Becky edged closer, her lips brushing Connie’s ear. “What I saw, Mommy,” she whispered, “was how you had lots and lots of stories about mommies and their little girls… doing sex stuff together.” She dipped down to place a moist kiss on her mother’s neck.

“Oooh, nice,” purred the young mother, a dreamy expression on her face. “So, I guess that must have been a shock to you…”

“Yeah, at first I was totally surprised… ‘cos I never even knew mommies even did things like that! But I thought it was way hot. Then, I kinda wondered what it would be like if you, um, did stuff like that to me. And that was when I understood what was going on!” Becky sat up, eyes flashing with excitement. “The — the way you’d been looking at me, the pictures an’ all those stories… Somehow I just knew that — that you wanted us to b-be girlfriends!”

“Oh, honey,” moaned Connie, cupping her breasts. “H-how did that make you feel?”

“Sorta scared… at first, anyhow,” admitted the fourteen-year-old. “But the more an’ more I thought about it, the better I liked it. I do love you lots, Mommy. And you’re, like, the sexiest lady I know!” A lovely pink tinge appeared in the girl’s cheeks. “Wanna know what I did then?” she shyly murmured.

Connie ran both hands down her body to stroke the insides of her thighs. The air was thick with the smell of womanly heat, and her sex was so wet that it glistened. “What, Becky? What d-d-did you do?”

Becky lay down alongside her mother, throwing a leg over Connie’s. “I touched myself, Mommy. I took off my panties, an’ put my hands under my dress, an’ touched my pussy ’til I came, thinking about us doing sex stuff.”

“Precious child,” gasped Connie. “Oh, baby, I adore you…”

“And then, Mommy,” the girl continued, climbing on top of her writhing mother, “I licked off my fingers, thinking ’bout how to make it happen for real… what I could do to make you love me that way.”

Connie stared at her daughter with lust-glazed eyes. “And you did, honeybunch — that wonderful day when we… we sunbathed in the back yard. You made it happen. And then… we became lovers.”

“Yeah,” Becky breathed, gazing hungrily at Connie. “And we will be, too, Mommy. For ever an’ ever!”

“Oh, baby… kiss me.”

Becky obliged, crushing her open mouth to Connie’s, her tongue darting between the woman’s lips.

“Mmmmm,” the older woman moaned into their kiss, her hands sliding down Becky’s back until she was cradling her daughter’s firm bottom with both hands. She parted her thighs, opening herself up to Becky’s lusty assault as the eager fourteen-year-old pumped her hips, frantically grinding the rise of her mound against Connie’s vulva while tongue-fucking her mouth.

Suddenly the panting teenager was pulling away, scrambling up to kneel beside Connie, reaching out to explore her mother with busy hands. “Oh, Mommy,” she gasped, “I wanna feel every bit of you. I wanna touch you — everywhere! You’re so beautiful, Mommy. So beautiful…” Her fingers traced lightly over the older woman’s breasts, grazed her belly, then dipped between Connie’s thighs to touch the moist flesh, warmed and waiting.

“Ohhh, baby… you can feel what you’ve done t-to me, you sweet, wicked child — c-can’t you?” Connie stammered as Becky’s fingers squished in her dripping cunt. “Oh yes, oh GOD that feels s-so good. Now lick me, baby, please…”

Becky knelt between her mother’s legs, sweeping her blonde hair back with a regal sweep of the head, then bent to her work.

Connie watched in dazed delight as her adolescent daughter kissed her left knee… then the right. The left thigh. Right thigh, moving higher. Becky’s warm lips shifted from one leg to the other, now nuzzling her mother’s soft inner thighs, steadily moving toward her pussy.

Even though she was expecting it, Connie jerked as Becky’s mouth pressed into the curly triangle of her pubes, tenderly kissing the warm, moist flesh. Placing trembling hands on either side of her daughter’s head, Connie whimpered as Becky’s tongue emerged to lick at her labia. “Oh, yes… eat Mommy’s pussy, sweetheart.”

Becky nuzzled the glistening pinkness before her, nose buried in her mother’s bush, lips and tongue eagerly seeking wetness.

The sight of the fourteen-year-old face of Becky nestled between her thighs had Connie’s heat soaring… and when the girl’s tongue brushed her clit, she came convulsively, almost screaming from the intensity of it.

Oh, wow, thought Becky as her mother’s wild cry filled the room. Oh, yeah. Me too. I want it, too!

Trembling with a fierce need to be pleasured herself, the tenth grader twisted her body about to straddle Connie’s face, her lightly-downed cunt now millimeters from her mother’s lips.

As soon as she could catch her breath, Connie grasped her daughter’s hips, drew Becky down to her open, eager mouth and began to service her child lover. Her tongue probed and bathed every inch of Becky’s vagina, driving the girl to panting abandon.

Then Connie shifted her attention to her daughter’s pert buttocks, spreading them apart and licking hotly at the crack of her ass. While she bathed Becky’s rosebud with long, deep strokes of the tongue, Connie allowed her right hand to steal between the girl’s thighs, gently teasing the inflamed clitoris with her fingers.

Suddenly Becky was gasping in a full blown, frenzied orgasm, fingernails digging into the tangled sheets as her ecstasy rose to an unimaginable peak. Connie didn’t stop, though. She held her daughter’s pelvis firmly against her face, showering light kisses on her vagina to prolong the youngster’s pleasure.

Becky’s climax eased slowly. Her body continued to twitch for some time before it finally ended, and the young girl relaxed with a happy sigh.

Temporarily sated and completely exhausted, Becky crawled into her mother’s arms and snuggled against a round, full breast.

“You always know how to make me feel good, Mommy,” she breathed. Her warm mouth claimed one of Connie’s nipples… and she began to lazily suckle the pink tip.

“Oh, honey,” Connie murmured as she stroked her young lover’s back. “That’s because you inspire me… I’ve never made love with anyone who makes me happier than my own little girl.”

“We gonna do it again?” asked Becky drowsily, “or should we take a nap?”

Connie thought for a moment. “Let’s take a nap, honey,” she said, running her fingers through Becky’s hair. “We’ve got all night to play… long as you don’t have homework, that is.”

“Mmmm, did it in study hall,” Becky mumbled. Then she lifted her head. “Will you lick my butt some more after we wake up? I really like when you do that.”

“Of course I will,” purred Connie, playfully fondling her daughter’s rump, slipping a finger between the soft cheeks.

“I’ll lick yours too, Mommy…”

“C’mon, now,” Connie chided. “Let’s stop talking about licking bottoms, or we’ll get too worked up to fall asleep.”

Becky yawned, stretching languidly, then settled into Connie’s arms. “Mmm-kay.” Her eyes drifted open, just long enough to give her mother a sleepy smile. “Love you, Mommy.”

“Love you too, honeybunch,” Connie replied, burying her nose in Becky’s sweet-scented hair.

They nestled together, cozy and contented. Within minutes the woman and the girl were dozing peacefully, the room silent but for their steady breathing.

Later, just as they had planned, Connie and Becky would awaken and come together to make love again — mother and daughter sharing a joyful intimacy.

 

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A Daughter’s Seduction, Part One

  • Posted on April 30, 2015 at 8:44 am

By JetBoy

My name is Connie. I am a single mother with a fourteen-year-old daughter named Becky.

I know and have known for a long time that I am sexually attracted to young girls, and have spent many late night hours pleasuring myself to fantasies of cute, nubile preteens. I had a large collection of lesbian pornography on my computer, nearly all of it featuring girls… especially erotic stories and photos of them engaged in love play with older women, which never failed to make me hot.

I suppose it was inevitable that one day I would find myself aroused at the sight of my own child… and sure enough, I was soon experiencing a strong sexual hunger for Becky, especially those times when she was in shorts or a skirt, exposing her lovely legs. Once in a while I got a glimpse of her in the nude, a sight that always left me dizzy with desire.

Before long, Becky was finding her way into my masturbation fantasies… and I brought myself to orgasm many times while imagining the two of us, naked and in bed together, sharing our bodies as lovers do.

Of course, I never dared to act on my taboo desires, settling instead for collecting dozens of lesbian mother/daughter stories from the internet, which I stashed in a large file with the rest of the erotica on my computer. But then one day, while she and I were spending a day at our cabin in the hills, my girl Becky took the initiative that changed our relationship forever.

We were sharing a large blanket in the back yard behind the cabin, taking the sun. I wore a scandalously small bikini, and Becky was in a two piece swimsuit that revealed enough of her lithe body to have me tingling all over. I was toying with the notion of slipping indoors for a short while to indulge in a little furtive masturbation.

It was then that Becky suddenly broke into my reverie by sitting up, studying me for a moment and declaring, “You need some more oil on your back, Mommy. Want me to put it on for you?”

Delighted, I replied, “Aw… that’s sweet of you, hon.” I felt a prickle of excitement at the thought of Becky touching my bare skin.

She knelt beside me, squirted a generous shot of coconut-scented oil into her hands and vigorously rubbed them together, then got to work on my upper back and shoulders.

Her touch felt wonderful. I allowed my imagination to drift and my illicit desires to come forth… image following lewd image like X-rated flashcards in my mind:

My naked daughter, proudly displaying her body to me, cupping her slight breasts with both hands.

The two of us locked in a lover’s embrace, our mouths crushed together in a soul kiss, her legs wrapped around my ass.

My face buried between her thin thighs, Becky’s fingers tangled in my hair as I licked my baby’s bare slit.

Becky and I gently entangled, bodies flushed and glistening in the aftermath of our lovemaking.

These visions battered my consciousness, taunted me, made me want things I shouldn’t.

My craving only intensified when I felt Becky’s hands move down my slippery body to cup my buttocks. The suit I wore didn’t cover much of me, so there was plenty for her to touch… and touch she did. I felt warm, thick fluids oozing from me, and prayed that my daughter wouldn’t see the evidence of arousal through those thin bikini bottoms.

I was taken aback when Becky asked me to turn over, but hesitantly did as she said… and as I settled onto the blanket, she reached to pop open the front clasp of my bikini top, baring my breasts.

I was shocked and, truth be told, more than a little bit thrilled to be topless in front of my daughter. There was something in my baby’s smile that told me as clear as day how much she hadwanted to do that, to undress me. And that was when I really began to get excited…

As I watched Becky through my sunglasses, losing myself in a mixture of confusion and sexual heat, she poured more oil into her hands and worked it into my shoulders, kneading the muscles… then slowly, carefully, her hands slid down to cover my breasts.

I knew that I should stop her, but didn’t — I couldn’t!

She wasn’t just anointing my breasts, either – she was caressing them, teasing my nipples with her oil-coated fingers. It seemed too crazy for words, but I could read desire in Becky’s eyes as she felt me up. I couldn’t help but moan, overcome by my baby’s touch… and when she smiled, I knew that she’d planned for me to respond that way.

I was quivering inside, heart pounding like a locomotive. Was my adolescent daughter really coming on to me? Could this truly be happening?

She slowly worked her way down to my bikini bottoms, rubbing the sweet-scented oil into my tummy. My pussy was so wet that I was certain Becky could see it through my suit by now.

Then my daughter grasped the waistband of my swimsuit. “Raise your bottom, Mommy,” she cooed, gently tugging at the barely-there bikini.

I knew what I should have done right then: sit up and ask my daughter just what the hell she was up to, and stop this insane thing that was happening between us before I completely lost control. But I didn’t. God help me, I wanted Becky to undress me, needed my baby to see me naked.

Without a word I lifted my pelvis… and with a little squeak of delight Becky slipped my suit down and off. Now completely nude, my pulse racing, I waited to see what my little girl would do.

She began to work the oil into my legs, starting just above the knees and moving slowly upward. I whimpered as her fingers caressed the soft skin of my inner thighs, mere inches from my aching sex. I could no longer conceal my arousal, breathing, “Oh, m-my angel… oh, yessss,” as my body shivered and twitched on the blanket, made helpless by my daughter’s touch.

Then Becky placed a hand on my vulva, and I inhaled sharply. She only giggled. “Oooh, Mommy… you’re all sticky. And warm!”

I couldn’t respond… but then, at that instant, my lips were incapable of shaping words. I could only gape at my child in disbelief.

Then Becky drew her hand away… except for one finger that she slowly, oh God so slowly trailed down the length of my slit. Trembling from head to toe, I whispered “Honey…”

And with that, my baby pushed two fingers inside me, penetrating me right up to her third knuckles with a single stroke.

I came instantly, emitting a strangled cry while a jolt of pleasure surged though my body like a blast of electrical current. My hands clutched helplessly at the blanket while my baby’s wonderful fingers squirmed about inside me, driving my ecstasy to unimaginable heights.

Finally I lay panting, exquisite tinglings still rippling through me as Becky withdrew her hand from between my quivering thighs. I opened my eyes in time to see my daughter bringing those wet fingers to her lips. I couldn’t say a word… just stared as she sucked them into her mouth, tasting my essence. She grinned. “Yum…”

Then her expression became soft, dreamy. She reached behind to untie her bikini top and let it fall to the ground, revealing budding breasts, then stood to slip her bottoms down to her feet and step out of them.

Now naked, she knelt beside me, reaching out to take off my sunglasses. “I love you, Mommy,” she whispered, her eyes warm with adoration… and she bent to kiss me.

Becky’s soft mouth brushed against mine in a very tantalizing way… then her tongue slipped between my parted lips, and the kiss became heated and passionate.

Believe it or not, that instant was when it hit me with blinding clarity: my fourteen-year-old daughter was making love to me! As I saw it, the way Becky had undressed me and fingered my cunt could be chalked up to girlish experimentation… perhaps even a young teen’s natural curiosity about the body of a grown woman. But this ardent French kiss left no room for doubt about what my daughter really wanted.

I’d given birth to Becky… nursed, diapered, comforted, amused, taught and disciplined her. Now at the threshold of womanhood, she was giving me the most precious of gifts: herself.

I knew that what we were doing was wrong, I really did… but Becky had been my most secret, most obsessive desire for at least a year, and the knowledge that she wanted me as well was too much for my morality to overcome. All I could think about was the joy that she and I could share as lovers… how much closer this new relationship might bring us. Furthermore, it was obvious that Becky had done this kind of thing before, and knowing that my baby was experienced in sapphic love made me all the more eager to explore forbidden pleasures with her.

I began to respond to my daughter’s kiss, my own tongue shyly emerging to meet hers. Soon enough Becky and I were kissing hungrily, losing ourselves in the delicious madness of incest. I had never been so sexually excited in my life.

She climbed on top of me, her mouth never leaving mine. We continued to share hungry kisses, our oiled bodies sliding and slipping together. She wedged a hand between us to grope my breasts, her palm gliding over my aching nipples. I moaned into her mouth.

Becky drew away from me to whisper, “Touch me, Mommy.”

How could I resist such a sweet invitation? My hands were resting lightly on my little girl’s back, and I let them slowly glide down to fondle her pert little bottom. Hungry for more, my fingers stole between her cheeks, lightly stroking the cleft of her anus. She hummed with pleasure, both her hands covering my breasts now.

My fingers traveled down even further between my baby’s thighs, seeking her lightly-downed slit. She was moist there, and my heart hammered frantically as I allowed the tip of my index finger to slip inside her.

Becky tore her mouth from mine, gasping, “Oh! Oh Mommy yes, that feels so n-nice…”

I continued to press my probing digit into my daughter’s body, feeling her writhe against me, panting furiously. I expected to meet the barrier of Becky’s hymen… so I was surprised when my finger slid all the way into her vagina. My head spun at the realization that my little girl was no longer a virgin… but then again, she had clearly engaged in sexual activity before today. Dazed, I wondered if a boy or another girl had been her first lover.

My finger rolled around inside Becky’s pussy as I touched my child in a wonderful new way. She was trembling while I pleasured her, eyes closed, a look of absolute bliss on her face, whispering “I love you, Mommy. I love you”

“I love you too, angel!” I gasped, then withdrew my finger from the warmth of Becky’s body. Her eyes flew open, but I shushed her with a smile and a tender kiss. I rolled the two of us over, gently placing Becky onto her back. My lust was now at a peak… and I needed, more than anything, to taste my daughter.

I caressed her face, gazing down at my child adoringly. Had any mother ever been so blessed, so loved? Our mouths met again for a brief but luscious moment, then I trailed my lips down to my baby’s neck, nibbling at her angel-soft skin. Becky was purring like a contented kitten as I pressed a kiss into the hollow of her throat, then moved down further still.

Her barely-there breasts and taut nipples delighted me… and Becky moaned as I took one into my mouth, flicking at the pink tip with a playful tongue. My daughter gently rocked from side to side, cradling my head to her chest, her heart racing almost audibly. I began to lavish attention on her other nipple. “Oh,” she breathed, holding me close. “Oh.”

Wriggling my way down Becky’s body, I licked a path to her belly button… so adorable. I teased it with a flashing probe of the tongue, and she squealed with delight, another surge of pleasure coursing through her limbs.

I was a woman on fire, trembling with desire for my girl as I reached the ultimate destination. I lay between Becky’s legs, staring enthralled at the pink treasure of her vagina.

I had enjoyed my fair share of lovers by age 35, but the sight of my daughter’s glistening sex aroused me more than I imagined possible. My hands rested on her thighs as I inhaled deeply, savoring the scent of Becky’s excitement. My mouth watered to taste her… and I closed my eyes, lowering my face to her slit.

My daughter whimpered as my tongue emerged to take that first luxurious lick. She tasted wonderful… and I closed my eyes as I licked her again. Becky moaned, her trembling hands holding my head, then breathed, “God, Mommy… that’s so… so…”

Suddenly ravenous for her, I burrowed my face between Becky’s thighs, cupped her bottom in my hands and took her cunt into my mouth, licking and sucking at her as if I wanted to draw her into me completely. I couldn’t believe that this was real, that I was living out my most forbidden desire — going down on my own fourteen-year-old daughter!

Drunk on lust, I made love to Becky in a helpless frenzy… pleasuring her with everything there was to give, showing my child just how desperately I craved her body, her sex, her self.

Suddenly she bucked wildly and cried out, her voice filled with the sweet, sweet pain of climax as she came in my mouth. The music of her ecstasy only spurred me on, though… and I kissed and tongued my daughter’s pussy until she could stand no more, finally pushing my face away with clumsy hands.

She exhaled deeply, relaxing back into the embrace of our rumpled blanket… and I continued to lightly kiss and nuzzle her thighs and her soft tummy, finally crawling up to take this naked angel into my arms. I could feel Becky’s heart throb as I held her, placing gentle kisses on her flushed face.

Her arms slowly enfolded me, and she rested a warm cheek against my breast. “Wow,” she whispered, “that was so… awesome!”

I gently tilted her face up to mine. “I love you, honey,” I murmured, “more than anyone or anything. You are the world to me.”

Becky grinned wickedly. “Mmmm, Mommy… I love you too.” She shook her head in wonderment. “Jeez, that was even hotter than I imagined it would be!”

I narrowed my gaze. “So, little one,” I murmured, “that was wonderful and all, but – well, what just happened? Why did you… come on to me like that? I am your mother, after all.”

And Becky giggled. “Well… I kinda started to notice a few months ago how you look at me, especially when I’m in my undies or, um, not wearing much.”

I felt my face grow hot. Busted…

She continued. “And then… well, I found all those sex stories and pictures of girls on your computer.” She smiled wryly. “You don’t hide files very well, Mommy.”

Stunned, I lay back, staring up at the sky.

“So, well, I kinda read some of the stories… the ones about moms and daughters fooling around with each other… and I guess I, um, sort of figured things out.”

I raised myself up on one elbow. “What did you figure out, sweetheart? ” I asked quietly, needing to hear it from her lips.

Becky was suddenly shy, unable to meet my gaze. “Well… that you think of me like that, Mommy… that you wanted for us to, to, m-make love.”

I reached for her hand. “And… how did that make you feel?”

“It made me feel hot!” she admitted. “I… I even touched myself, my pussy, while I was reading.”

“Oh, my,” I breathed, feeling warm all over as I pictured my baby, a hand inside her panties, fingering herself as she read steamy tales of mother/daughter love.

“I like girls, too, Mommy,” she murmured, resting her head on my shoulder. “Me and Cheryl have kissed and made out and, um, other stuff… lots of times!”

“Oh, my,” I said again. Cheryl was Becky’s best friend, a little red-haired cutie who I had fantasized about more than once when getting myself off. I was thrilled to know that she and my daughter were lovers.

Becky continued. “So when I figured out that you wanted to do those things with me… well, it made me kinda want to do them with you, too.” She giggled. “So I did! I was a little scared, though.”

“Of me being… angry with you?”

She nodded her head. “Yeah.”

“Well, I am definitely not angry.” I murmured, wrapping my arms around my baby, hugging her close. “Thank you, sweetheart… thank you for loving me like that. You’ve… made me very happy.”

Becky raised her face to mine, her eyes now smoldering with a renewed desire. “I’m happy too, Mommy.”

Our lips met, brushing together gently… then our mouths joined in a fierce, passionate kiss. Becky pressed her leg into my sticky sex as our tongues danced a wild tango of love.

I gently pulled away. “Let’s go inside, honey. We can take a shower together, then you and I will go to bed and make love again.”

“Mmmm… sounds great!” Becky chirped.

And that’s exactly what we did. We had a wonderful time soaping up each other’s bodies in the shower, pausing often for hot kisses. Then we toweled one another dry, and Becky raced into my room to hurl herself onto the bed, bouncing happily as she waited for me.

I lay down next to her in the cool sheets, and she immediately crushed her mouth to mine with a fervor that had my head reeling.

Then in a flash, she was on her knees beside me. “I want to lick you now, Mommy,” she whispered.

How could I say no? I parted my legs for her, and Becky crawled between them to lie on her tummy, her face inches from my cunt. She reached out to tease my labia with her fingers, then smiled when I moaned at her touch.

“You have such a pretty pussy, Mommy,” she sighed. She licked her lips in the sexiest way imaginable, her eyes never leaving mine… then she slowly lowered her face between my thighs, pressing a warm, wet kiss into my vulva before she began to explore me with her tongue.

We made love for the whole afternoon… celebrating each other’s bodies, lost in the pleasures that only two females can share. My daughter and I kissed again and again, touched and tasted, learned what pleased each other best. We knew that our life together had changed forever — and for the better!

Three years later, Becky and I are still intimate. We sleep in the same bed, and our sex life is incredible. I don’t know how long this relationship is fated to last, but every minute we’ve shared as lovers has been a gift.

Continue on to Part Two

 

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The Lost Girl Game, Chapter 3

  • Posted on April 29, 2015 at 6:19 pm

By Naughty Mommy

The two young girls exchanged position, so that Bambi was standing closer to me and Kelly closer to Angela.

The tall, sexy seductress waited a moment for the room to calm down. Then she slowly reached out a hand to caress my daughter’s cheek. “You are such a perfect, beautiful girl,” she said softly, almost in a whisper.

Kelly’s breath caught and her cheeks grew even rosier than usual.

Angela let her hand drift slowly down, softly, along the neck, across the shoulder, and down the arm. Kelly shivered.

Taking my daughter’s hand and lifting it to her mouth as though to kiss it, she paused, and said, “Thank you for giving me this gift, of allowing me to undress you.” Then she kissed the back of Kelly’s hand, still looking into her eyes.

“It’s okay. Um, I mean, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, my sweet. Now, let’s start like this.” Angela shifted her legs apart, making room between her thighs where she was seated on the edge of the bed. “Sit down here and let me take off your shoes.”

Kelly turned around and sat between the woman’s legs.

Angela put her hands on my daughter’s shoulders and, arching her own back, rubbed her breasts against Kelly’s back, closing her eyes and licking her lips. Then she opened her eyes again and said, “Okay, lift up your little leg so I can take off your shoe.” She patted Kelly’s right leg, which was obediently raised.

It seemed an awkward position, but Angela obviously had experience at this. She quickly untied the knot, loosened the laces, and flipped the little pink shoe off. After briefly caressing Kelly’s foot through her sock, she slipped two fingers inside the sock and it came off easily too. Again she caressed my daughter’s little foot for a moment, then raised it until Kelly’s slender leg was pointing almost straight up.

“So beautiful,” I heard the woman say, almost to herself.

Angela’s caress now moved down very slowly, over the tight jeans, from ankle to lower leg to calf to back of knee to lower thigh to upper thigh…

A thin high-soprano sigh came from Kelly as Angela’s hand found her bottom and squeezed. I began to wonder to myself, why hadn’t I tried that trick?

Angela’s hand kept moving, but now it was going up her own side to her breast, which she squeezed tightly, almost cruelly, giving it a shake before pinching the nipple hard and moving away. But still moving. I watched her hand slide down, between her own belly and Kelly’s back, and disappear between her legs. Whether her fingers were inside her panties or not, I couldn’t tell, but she definitely seemed to be stroking her pussy for a few seconds before bringing the hand back out again.

She kissed Kelly gently on the neck and said, “That’s a good girl. Now the other foot.”

Nearly the same process was repeated, except this time when Angela’s hand reached my daughter’s bottom, it lingered there a moment or two longer, and whatever she did caused Kelly to squeal much louder than before. And this time Angela did not further stimulate herself, but just gave Kelly a hug and said, “Okay, get up now so I can get those jeans off.”

They both stood up, but Angela immediately knelt at Kelly’s waist. After pausing just long enough to gently kiss my daughter’s smooth, flat stomach, she opened the top button on her tight, low-rise jeans, then pulled down the zipper.

As she started tugging them over the hips, Kelly turned around, making it easier for Angela to get the jeans down, and this left Kelly facing away from the three of us. We all enjoyed the sight of my daughter’s firm young bottom coming into view, covered only by her skimpy panties.

The jeans went easily down from there, and Kelly stepped out of them. As I looked at her, I wanted to touch myself, and following Angela’s example, I did. I slid my hand between my legs and gently stroked my pussy, over the top of my panties.

Bambi saw what I was doing and gave me a little smile.

“You are so beautiful, such a beautiful, perfect young girl,” complimented Angela as Kelly turned around the face us again.

Kelly blushed and murmured her thanks.

Still kneeling, Angela kissed my daughter’s tummy again, while at the same time she slipped her fingers into the waistband of the hot pink panties.

I held my breath as the panties begin to slip down. Lower and lower they went, showing more and more white skin. And then a small tuft of auburn curls appeared, but it was a tiny patch, and just below it, my daughter’s vulva was revealed. Her outer labia were puffy and white, but tinged with pink. I wondered — and I wanted to see! — what she looked like inside.

Angela lowered the panties to the floor, put her hands on Kelly’s hips, and leaned in to kiss her again. But this time, not on the belly. It was flush on the lips, just below the scant growth of pubic hair.

Kelly gasped and I was afraid for a moment that she might faint. But Angela held her firmly and after a few deep breaths, Kelly seemed fine. She was visibly trembling, though, and not because she was cold — it was pleasantly warm in the room — but because she was so aroused.

Getting to her feet, the tall blonde reached behind my daughter’s back and unhooked her bra. She pulled it away, and as Kelly’s pert young breasts with rosy nipples came into view, Bambi and Angela responded in unison, a mother-daughter chorus, extolling with oohs and ahhs how beautiful she was.

“Those — those nipples!” exclaimed Angela.

“Like lollipops!” cried Bambi.

“Yes, like little cherry lollipops,” agreed her mother.

Angela began to reach out and touch one nipple, but then paused. “May I… may I kiss them?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure if the question was for me or Kelly or both. But I had no objection, and Kelly just nodded eagerly.

“Come here, closer,” she said, drawing my daughter over to the bed, nearer to Bambi and me.

Angela sat down again, placing Kelly in front of her. She leaned forward and softly kissed one nipple, then the other. She kissed them both, repeatedly, and we watched them grow stiff and hard, turning an even redder color. Finally, Angela finished by giving each young nipple a gentle lick with the tongue, right at the tip.

Kelly moaned and one hand moved to her crotch. She covered her vulva, not in modesty, but pressed her hand inward, stimulating herself.

Angela turned to me. “Okay, Sharon, now we have one naked girl in the room. Would you like to help Bambi make it two?”

“All right.”

“And you sit here by me so we can watch,” Angela said to Kelly, as she took her free hand and sat her on the bed, their bare thighs touching.

As I got up, I saw Kelly lower her head to rest on Angela’s much taller shoulder. I also noticed that my daughter still had a hand between her legs, gently stroking.

I had no idea how many minutes or hours had passed (I didn’t wear a watch, and my phone was in my purse in the other room), but I marveled that so much had happened in the short time since I had seen an extremely sexy young girl in the mall wearing little black boots with heels, opaque red tights, and a gray and white blouse with a wide black belt cinched around the waist.

Now that same girl was standing in front of me, and I was going to undress her.

I put my hand on her thin shoulder, the same way I had in the mall. But this time, instead of asking her if she was lost, I said, “Is it okay for me to take your clothes off?”

“Yes, please do, Miss Sharon. I want you to see me naked.”

That made my heart race again. I caught my breath, cleared my head, and knelt in front of her. I looked closely at her face.

She was a beautiful child, with a wide mouth, lovely full lips, a tiny nose, and huge blue eyes with long lashes. Her skin was not milky white like Kelly’s, but had more of a peachy glow.

“You’re so lovely,” I told her. “Sometimes I tell my little girl that her skin looks like strawberries and cream, and I think yours looks like peaches and cream.”

“Mmm, I like that,” said Angela from behind me. “It gives me some interesting ideas for later.”

I started with her belt, unhooking it from her tiny waist, and setting it aside. Then I reached down for the little boots. They had short zippers by the ankle, and were easy to remove. Without the boots and the cinching belt, Bambi seemed even smaller, slighter, younger than before. Just a little girl dressing up in big girl clothes. But a little girl with a great deal of carnal experience, of that I was sure.

Next I reached under her blouse for her tights. I felt Bambi’s stomach muscles flutter as my fingers slipped inside the waistband of her red tights. I slowly peeled them down over her legs and let her step out of them. Taking a cue from Angela, I put my hands around Bambi’s ankles and slowly drew them up her legs. She was still so young and slender that I could wrap my hands completely around her legs until I was halfway up her thighs.

The girl trembled as my fingers moved ever so gradually upward, higher and higher, closer to her little pubis, clad now only in a pair of thin white undies. When I reached the top of her thighs, I gently squeezed her legs, then moved my hands around to her waist, pulling her to me and holding her close, letting my hands move to her bottom, where I caressed her tender little cheeks.

“I — I like the way you touch me, Miss Sharon.”

“I’m glad you do, darling, because once you are naked, I want to touch you and kiss you everywhere, all over.”

The 9-year-old girl smiled down at me and licked her lips.

Still on my knees, I reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. Underneath, I found a thin white cotton undershirt that matched her little panties. As I set the blouse aside and looked at her, I thought, This is a child, a little girl — but an incredibly sexy and desirable little girl!

After a short pause to appreciate and be thankful for the incredible opportunity that Angela and Bambi were giving me, I began to lift up the child’s undershirt. She raised her arms for me, and as her sweet, young chest was revealed, I saw that she had only the smallest little bumps, the merest beginnings of breasts.

I was thrilled. I couldn’t believe my luck. I smiled at her, reaching up to caress her cheek, saying, “My little peaches and cream.” I briefly got to my feet and took her face in my hands, kissing her deeply on the mouth. As I did, I reached down and rubbed her little nipples, feeling them start to stiffen under my touch.

I leaned down to her chest, licking her nipples, kissing them, trying to suck them, though they were still not developed enough for that.

Bambi panted and clutched my head, pulling me close to her. I heard her mewling like a kitten, and I wanted to do everything with this little girl, fuck her in every way possible.

Trying to restrain my passion for the moment, however, I finally left off with her tempting nipples and turned my attention to her panties. Now, finally, I would see her — see all of her — see this hot sexy girl naked!

I was hoping, as I very slowly began to pull down her panties, that Bambi’s vulva would still be pre-pubescent. And it was, completely bare, hairless and smooth. I felt my face flush and my pulse racing as I stared at her little slit. No even any peach fuzz yet. I wanted to kiss her there, wanted to pull her lips apart and slide my tongue inside, but I wasn’t sure the time was right for that yet.

Instead, I stood, took the child in my arms, pulled her to me, and kissed her once more on the mouth. As I did, she jumped up, wrapping her bare legs around my waist, and we kissed for a long time that way, tongues exploring. I could feel the heat of her young body against mine.

“Wow…” I heard Kelly sigh as she took in the sight of her mother aggressively kissing a naked 9-year-old girl.

Finally, I set the child down and let her take her place on the bed, sitting next to my daughter. Two naked girls in the room, I thought. I sat down next to Bambi.

I expected that the next thing would be Kelly taking off Angela’s bra and panties, and then Bambi doing the same to me, but again they surprised me.

“Mommy, I want to get you naked now,” said Bambi.

“Okay, baby, go ahead.” Angela slid off the bed and stood in front of her daughter, between Kelly and me.

Bambi reached out and expertly opened the front clasp on her mother’s bra. The bra fell away, letting us see Angela’s beautiful breasts in all their naked glory.

I mentioned before that I think my legs are my strongest point, and I also think my own breasts are one of my weakest. They’re not bad or anything, but nothing special. Just ordinary B-cup breasts with small brown nipples.

Angela’s breasts definitely were something special. Even in her late 30s, which I assumed her to be, they were firm and round, with an upward tilt. The long brown nipples were stiffly erect. I saw no flaws in her gorgeous body, and what’s more, I was nearly certain her breasts were natural, nothing fake or silicone there. Just good genes and an excellent fitness regime, I expected.

Bambi touched her mother’s breasts, one in each hand. She cupped them, squeezing them gently, fondling and caressing them, finally squeezing the long nipples between her little fingers.

Angela, her lips moist and her eyes hooded, was petting her daughter’s shiny blonde hair, murmuring to her, arching her back and offering herself to her child.

The girl leaned in and kissed one of the nipples, licked it all over, top and bottom, coating it with her saliva, then gently bit it with her little teeth.

Her mother groaned in response, arching her back even more, aiming the nipple for her daughter’s waiting mouth.

My own nipples were straining and erect beneath my bra, aching to be touched. I looked at Kelly, and saw that she was holding one of her young breasts in her hands, gently pinching the pink nipple. Her other hand was still between her legs, working faster.

I knew my pussy was soaking wet — it had been ever since Bambi started kissing my neck in the other room — and now I slipped my hand inside my panties to touch myself. I was so aroused by the spectacle of seeing this little girl biting her mother’s nipples that I knew I could make myself come almost immediately.

But I definitely wanted to wait. I was sure — I hoped! — there would be many, many orgasms in the hours ahead of us.

Bambi was teasing her mother, squeezing and kissing and licking her breasts, and almost but not quite sucking on the stiff nipples. I could tell that was what Angela was craving. She did everything she could short of force to guide the long brown nipples between her daughter’s lips. But still Bambi resisted.

“Suck them, baby, suck them…”

“What, Mommy?”

“Suck my nipples!” hissed Angela, almost angrily.

The girl giggled as she took one of her mother’s large, round breasts in both her little hands, gently squeezing, making the nipple stretch out even longer than before. She opened her mouth wide and closed it around her mother’s teat, sucking like a baby on a bottle.

Angela groaned with pleasure and something like relief. “That’s my good girl. Suck Mommy’s nipple. Suck Mommy’s nipple, baby. Suck Mommy’s nipple.” Angela was cradling her daughter’s head in one hand, and the other hand was between her own legs, inside her white panties, obviously rubbing her clit.

On the other side of Bambi, Kelly was making little mewling sounds, like a kitten. I could see that her hand was moving fast between her spread legs. Was she getting close to a climax, I wondered?

Bambi eagerly, hungrily sucked each of her mother’s long brown nipples, going back and forth between them, as Angela continued stroking her hair and masturbating.

Then Bambi drew her face away from Angela’s breasts, squeezed them one last time in her little hands and pinched the wet nipples, then hopped down off the bed and began tugging down her mother’s panties.

As the woman’s vulva came into view, I was surprised to discover that it was completely free of hair. It had either been closely shaved or, more likely, waxed very recently. Not only that, but her taut body was completely bronzed, every inch. There was not a tan line in sight, on her back, her bottom, her breasts, or her crotch. Again, I concluded that Angela (or her husband?) must be quite wealthy, able to afford the finest salons and personal care.

I glanced over at my daughter, and saw that her eyes had gone wide at the sight of Angela’s hairless pussy and all-over tan.

As Bambi pulled Angela’s panties down to the floor, and her mother stepped out of them, the little blonde child, still kneeling, gazed up at her. “Mommy, I love you,” she said.

Angela smiled, “I love you too, darling, very much.”

Bambi’s hands were on the back of Angela’s smooth, toned calves. She was gently stroking them up and down. She continued smiling up at her mother, and then, very slowly, ran her little hands up her legs, starting at her calves, then past her knees, up the back of her thighs, until she reached her ass. She clutched the woman’s tanned buttocks and squeezed, kneading the warm flesh.

Angela smiled down at the little girl, her face only inches away from her vulva. The woman took her large breasts in her hands and massaged them, pinching the nipples.

Kelly was whimpering more loudly now, and I was certain that she was close to an orgasm. My own pussy was very wet, but I was so mesmerized by the sight of this child sensually caressing her mother’s naked body that I had almost stopped masturbating.

As Bambi continued squeezing Angela’s buttocks, I could see that she was staring at the woman’s pussy and licking her lips. Was she actually going to kiss her there? Or lick her?

The answer to the first question was yes, but to the second question, no, at least not yet anyway. She raised up on one knee and softly kissed her mother’s bare vulva, the child’s lips meeting her mother’s pussy lips. She kissed her there again and again.

Angela sighed in satisfaction and smiled down at her daughter, as she continued squeezing her own breasts. After several more kisses, Bambi stood up and stepped away.

Looking toward my daughter, she said, “Okay, your turn now.”

“With — with your mother?” Kelly asked.

Bambi laughed, “No, not with my mother. With your mother. Get her naked the way I did with my mommy.”

Now my pussy juices were really flowing. My face felt flushed and my heart was beating madly. Was this all a dream? A wild sexual fantasy I’d concocted in my sleep after seeing my nubile daughter half-naked in the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?

But no, it was not a dream. It was real. It was actually happening.

“Go on,” instructed Bambi.

Kelly swallowed, then meekly nodded, “Okay.”

My 12-year-old child came to stand in front of me. I reached out for her, pulling her close, hugging her.

“Oh my baby, my darling, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy,” she whispered in my ear. “Is it — is it okay for me to do this?”

I held her at arm’s length, my hands on her bare shoulders. She was naked in front of me.

“Yes, it’s okay, it’s perfectly fine, if it is what you want to do,” I assured her, looking into her beautiful green eyes.

“Um, is it what you want?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded, “Yes, my darling girl, it is what I want. I want it very much.”

“Okay, good,” she grinned, “because so do I!”

We ended the hug, and I stood, turning around to let her unhook my bra. She had a little trouble at first, but then got it.

I turned back around, facing her and the others, letting the bra fall away.

Kelly stared at my breasts. “Mommy…” she whispered, reaching out and touching one of my stiff nipples.

I groaned with pleasure as I felt her touch me.

She tenderly caressed my breast, then reached for my other breast with her other hand. She had both hands on my breasts. She held them, fondled them.

My nipples were achingly erect. “Kiss — kiss them!” I begged.

My daughter leaned in and gave the softest, gentlest kiss to my left breast.

“Suck on it,” I whispered.

She began sucking, and I moaned as my knees went weak. I wasn’t sure for a moment if I could remain standing.

Continue on to Chapter 4

 

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The Lost Girl Game, Chapter 2

  • Posted on April 29, 2015 at 6:03 pm

By Naughty Mommy

They gave the underthings back to Kelly, and she replaced them in the bag.

“Is that all?” asked Angela. “Just the bras and panties, or did you get some other things too?”

“Well, we,” my daughter blushed, “um, we got another pair of, um, panties and a bra, but I, I’m wearing them.”

“You are?” The woman cocked her head as she studied Kelly’s body, making no effort to hide the fact that she was picturing my 12-year-old girl in her scanty underwear. “Ooh, how sexy!”

Our conversation became slightly less scandalous for the next few minutes. I asked Bambi what grade she was in, what her favorite subjects were, what kind of grades she got, and so on. She told me she was in the 4th grade, she liked recess and lunch best, and she got all A’s.

Angela smiled proudly at her child, but I noticed that she also kept glancing at Kelly, running her eyes up and down her body.

I was only taking small sips of my wine as we chatted. It was amazingly good and, I assumed, very pricy, but I did not want to get tipsy before driving home. I figured we would stay a few more minutes, then we would get going, and this time we would not be deterred.

But just as I took what I expected to be my last sip of the delicious white wine, and started to set my still half-filled glass down on the expensive-looking coffee table, little Bambi handed her glass of Coke to her mom and bounded over to me, hopping onto my lap.

She threw her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. “Please don’t go, Miss Sharon! You were so very very nice to help me, and I like you so much, and I want to be friends! Please don’t go!”

“Oh, honey, honey, I…” I patted her back, then gently tried to remove her arms from around my neck. But she would not let go.

“Please don’t leave us! I want you to stay and be friends!”

“Bambi, now please, dear.” Angela quickly came over to sit next to me on the luxuriously embroidered sofa.

She stroked her daughter’s arm. “Darling, don’t worry, I’m sure Kelly and Miss Sharon want to be your friends. They won’t leave right away if we just ask them nicely. I think they wouldn’t mind staying just a few minutes longer.”

“Well, I,” I began, “I guess…”

Angela patted my bare knee, and as she did, she managed — was it deliberate? — to push the layers of my skirt a few inches further up my thigh. She winked at me and said, in a stage whisper, “She just loves making new friends and can’t ever bear to see them go. A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

I nodded back at Angela, agreeing to say a short time longer.

The woman raised her hand from my leg to her daughter’s little bottom. She fondled the girl’s buttocks, squeezing them in a way that seemed decidedly un-motherlike to me. “There, now, my sweet little girl, they’re going to stay. Aren’t you glad? Won’t you say thank you to Miss Sharon?”

Bambi suddenly started kissing me on the neck, while whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Her hands began caressing my shoulders, and although she was just a little girl, her grip was strong. It felt almost like the work of an expert masseuse, as if she had been trained to give sensual pleasure.

At the same time, Angela got up and went back to where Kelly was sitting. The woman sat on the arm of the chair, parting her legs slightly, her dress hiking up over her firm, tanned thighs. She placed her hand on my daughter’s shoulder and asked, “You don’t want to go running off right away, do you, sweetheart?”

“Well, I… I guess not.”

“I’m so glad. You’re such a beautiful young lady, and I would love to get to know you better.” Angela’s hand slowly moved from Kelly’s shoulder to her neck, where she gently caressed her.

I could tell that Kelly was feeling nervous and uncomfortable. I wasn’t at all sure what was going on, but it certainly did seem strange. I thought I should stop it, and yet — and yet, the way Bambi was kissing my neck and massaging me felt so delicious, so perfect, I couldn’t find the strength to push her away.

Instead I found myself putting my arms around her, rubbing her warm back, and cooing, “There now, precious, that’s my good girl.”

I gave Kelly a quick look, trying to reassure her that we would go along with this nutty game for just a few more minutes, and then we would leave.

But Kelly wasn’t looking at me. She wasn’t looking at anything. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on the back of the chair.

Angela was using both hands now to massage my daughter’s neck and shoulders. “That’s right, you just relax now, darling,” I heard her say.

She whispered something else to Kelly, so softly that I couldn’t hear, and then, as I watched, she leaned in and gave my daughter a gentle kiss on the cheek.

I began to panic. Was this woman attempting to seduce my little girl, right in front of me? How dare she!

In my mind, I was prepared to stand up, to shout in protest, to take Kelly firmly by the hand and leave immediately.

But that was only my mind. My body, which was responding quite happily to Bambi’s caresses and kisses, and my lust, which was growing stronger and more passionate by the second, were making just the opposite argument.

That part of me, my lust, my libido, was intensely excited by what was happening, utterly thrilled by it!

I wanted to have this sexy little girl, this 9-year-old woman/child continue touching me and kissing me. I wanted her to go even further! And I also wanted to see my own little girl, my hot 12-year-old daughter, engaged in a passionate embrace with a mature, beautiful woman like Angela.

“… lovely girl … beautiful skin …” I could hear just snatches of the conversation between Angela and Kelly “… 7th grade … health class …”

I was torn. I wanted two separate things, one that I knew was right — to get up and leave — and one that I knew was wrong, or that seemed to me like it should be wrong — to have sex with an underage girl, a child, while watching my own daughter have lesbian sex with this beautiful blonde woman.

“… they match … they’re pink …” and then I heard “… let me see them …”

Oh my god, what was Angela doing? Was she…?

It was hard for me to see much, because Bambi’s sweet kisses, so warm and soft on my neck, were now moving to my cheeks. She held my face in her little hands and kissed me all over, murmuring something or perhaps just purring in pleasure. All over my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my eyes, my chin, my lips…

But there, just across from me, did I actually see Angela raising my daughter’s crop top, and pulling it over her head? Did I see Kelly lifting her arms, allowing Angela to remove her shirt? Is that what I saw?

Did I catch a glimpse of Angela looking at Kelly’s hot pink WonderBra, complimenting her on it, and then Kelly raising her face to Angela, smiling brightly at her, and — and was Angela touching my daughter’s cheeks, telling her how pretty she was? Was she bringing her own mouth down to — to kiss my daughter’s lips?!?

But how could I possibly find the willpower to stop this from happening? Did I even want to stop it? How could I ever get up and protest when Bambi’s lips… her lips… felt so heavenly on mine?

She was kissing me. This darling child, this 9-year-old little girl, this magical blonde sylph with blue eyes I could lose myself in forever, was kissing me deeply, wetly, her mouth on mine, her warm tongue exploring, teasing, tantalizing me.

I gave in all the way. Instead of just hugging Bambi, I began to stroke her urgently with my hands, expressing my need, my desire, my wanton lust.

I ran my hands up and down her back, and then to her bottom — I squeezed her ass cheeks the way her mother had, the way a lover touches her lover (could it be???) and as I did, Bambi responded. She arched her back, pressing herself into me. I felt her flat little chest against my breasts, and I wanted there to be nothing between us. I wanted her skin on my skin. She began thrusting her pelvis, grinding herself into my lap, as if trying to burrow her way inside me.

God, I wanted this girl. I wanted to have her, to take her. I wanted her to have me. I wanted her to suck my nipples, and I wanted her to lick my pussy, and I wanted her to fuck me with her little fingers. And I wanted more. I wanted to see her naked, to look at her hairless pubis, to part her puffy little lips with my fingers and put my tongue down there. I wanted to lick her virgin vagina and suck her little clit and make this dewy child come in my mouth!

What about my daughter? Was she still enjoying Angela’s affections, or had she changed her mind?

I thought to myself, if Kelly is unhappy, if Kelly wants to leave, then we will leave. She comes first.

But that did not seem to be an issue at the moment.

As I separated myself briefly from Bambi’s sweet mouth so I could look over at the other two, what I saw was Kelly slowly unzipping Angela’s dress. The seductress was perched on my daughter’s lap, and she was looking over at Bambi and me with hooded eyes, a gaze that expressed both passion and deep satisfaction.

Kelly smiled to herself and licked her lips as she finished pulling the zipper down. She raised her hands and pushed the blonde’s dress off her shoulders, watching it fall to her lap. She seemed to inhale deeply as she ran her hands gently over Angela’s lightly freckled back, and then, I saw her lean forward and kiss and lick — yes, lick! — the older woman’s bare skin.

Angela shivered when she felt my daughter’s mouth on her back. She clutched at her breasts and squeezed them through her bra. I could see her pinching her nipples hard.

Then something else took place.

Angela appeared to make a decision. She got to her feet, stepping out of her dress, and turned to Kelly, extending her hand. Kelly accepted it and stood up. The two of them came over to us.

Angela put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Bambi pulled away from me, sitting up. Her little face was flushed and sweaty. Her lips were wet from kissing and red with my lipstick. It occurred to me that my own mouth must be a mess, with lipstick smeared all around. But then I realized, no, that’s not a bad thing; it’s how a lover looks after she kisses her lover. That actually made me smile.

“Come, my children. Let’s go in to the bedroom.”

Bambi obediently climbed off my lap. Taking one of my hands, with Angela taking the other, they raised my to my feet.

Bambi led the way. I followed her, Angela was behind me, and Kelly followed Angela. We all held hands as we went to the next room.

It was a huge, high-ceilinged bedroom, filled with beautiful ornate furnishings, apparently all antiques. The bed, on the right, was very large, even bigger than king-size. Where did they get the sheets for it, I asked myself — and then I answered myself that in a luxury suite like this, everything could be made to order for guests who could afford to pay any price.

Ahead of us was a giant bay window, heavily curtained, admitting only a sliver of sunlight, leaving the room dimly lit, lending it a dusky, romantic ambience. I suddenly remembered noticing those big curved windows, way up at the top of the building, and now I knew what they looked like from the inside.

To the left was a bathroom, or maybe a bathroom suite would be a more accurate description, because it appeared to contain several rooms. In the center I could see a large jacuzzi-type tub, and I found myself wondering, is it big enough to fit four women at the same time — or, should I say, to fit two women and two girls? I hoped we would find out.

Scattered around the room were various other pieces of expensive-looking furniture, but Bambi ignored everything else and headed straight for the bed — which was already open, apparently in anticipation of activity.

The little girl indicated that I should sit down, and then she directed her mother to sit next to me.

“First you kiss,” she said, pointing to Angela and me, “while we watch. And then we’ll kiss while you watch. Okay?”

Bambi looked over at Kelly as she asked this question, and my daughter nodded eagerly. She seemed quite excited about the prospect of seeing her mother kiss another woman.

Before anything else could happen, however, I reached out and took my daughter’s hand. “Are you okay with this?” I asked her. “Is everything all right?”

“Uh-huh,” she beamed, her eyes joyful. “Fine!”

Angela put her hand over ours, where I was holding Kelly’s. “That’s nice,” she said. “I like that you’re always checking on each other. No one should ever be expected to do anything that doesn’t make them happy.”

I noticed Bambi nodding in agreement

“Right, sweetie?” asked Angela.

“Right, Mommy. Now please start kissing.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

Angela turned toward me. I was still fully clothed, but she was wearing only her bra and panties: white, lacy, and sheer, a matching set. Top quality, I was sure, and very expensive.

“Wait,” I said, putting my hand up. “Let me get as comfortable as you are.”

Not waiting for a response, I quickly pulled my loose top over my head and tossed it aside, then stood and shimmied out of my skirt. It had an elastic waistband and came off in a jiffy. I stepped out of my flat shoes, and then I was clad in just a black bra and panties. They were matching (I thanked myself inwardly for being a stickler about that), and stylishly sexy, though no doubt far less pricy than our lovely hostess’s.

“Go, Mom!” approved Kelly as Bambi clapped and Angela smiled at me, rubbing her hands together.

“Now,” I asked, grinning, as I sat down on the bed next to Angela, “where were we?”

“Right here,” the woman purred, sliding an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to her. Just before her mouth met mine, she paused, her lips parted and wet, to glance into my eyes. Then she looked down at my mouth and began devouring me.

As I mentioned earlier, I don’t get the chance to have sex, especially with women, nearly as often as I would like. It’s really only been a handful of times in the ten years since my divorce. The few women I have bedded have generally had even less experience with lesbian sex than me, so I’m still something of a beginner.

However, as soon as Angela started kissing me, I knew I was in very expert hands. Her kissing was amazing. It was like having sex mouth to mouth. She would taunt and tease with her tongue, then plunge in deeply, making me shiver with excitement. Her full lips toyed with mine, nibbling them, sucking them, until I wanted to open myself up in every way possible to her.

It sounds ridiculous to say this, but I was so caught up in the exquisite sensations of being kissed by that beautiful, sexy woman that I momentarily lost all sense of where I was. My eyes were closed, of course, and the room was quiet. I had no idea how much time was passing, what day it was, or even where we were. All I wanted was her. Her mouth and her body.

My hands were on her warm back, clutching, kneading, almost pleading for her to give me more, and to take more from me. As her tongue bathed mine in hot caresses, I searched for the hook on Angela’s bra, to unfasten it, and release her breasts so my hands could touch them.

But the hook was not in the back. It must be in front. I move my hands around, and —

“No, not yet! Just kissing.”

Startled, I opened my eyes, pulling my mouth away from the blonde’s. It had not been her voice that I’d heard, obviously, but her daughter’s.

I’d totally forgotten where I was and what we were doing. I shook my head, trying to get back to reality.

Bambi repeated. “Just kissing, okay? No more clothes off yet.”

The two girls, Bambi and Kelly, were standing side by side, holding hands. Bambi was still completely dressed, including her little boots, while Kelly was wearing her tight jeans and her tennis shoes, but had her top off.

My slender little daughter looked adorable, at 5’2” and just over 100 pounds, with flawless white skin, big green eyes, curly red hair, and her developing breasts pushed up so invitingly inside the hot pink bra. If there was ever a more alluring 12-year-old girl, I don’t know who she could be. I saw my daughter again at that moment the same way I’d seen her inside the dressing room — as a sexual creature that I wanted, very badly.

I think Kelly realized this time, for the first time, what my look meant. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t look scared. In fact, she smiled at me, somewhat coyly, even flirtatiously.

“Hey, remember me?” It was Angela.

I shook my head again. So easy it was for me to float away in any direction. Had the woman put something in my wine?

I looked back at her. She held my face in her hands, admiring me. She kissed me on the cheek, on the nose, on the forehead, on the eyelids, on the chin, on the lips. I was ready for, and would have welcomed, another long, wet session of her kisses. But this time she only kissed my mouth two or three times before stopping and pulling away.

She leaned back on one arm and raised the other hand to her chest, caressing her large breasts through the thin brassiere. It was transparent enough that I could see her brown nipples, and when she fingered them they grew erect, poking out through the material.

“Do you want me, Sharon?” she asked. “Do you want my body?”

“Oh, yes, very much.” My gaze kept shifting from her eyes to her mouth to her nipples, which she continued to fondle.

Angela reached out and took her 9-year-old daughter’s free hand. “And do you want my little girl?”

I looked over at Bambi, the child I’d found lost in the mall not more than an hour ago. She still seemed like a little girl. But the way she had kissed me earlier and pressed her thin young body against mine — those had certainly not been the actions of an innocent. I looked at her mother and back at Bambi and I had a vision of the two of them in bed, making love. Could it be?

I turned back to Angela. “Again, yes, I do. I want her very much. I want both of you. I want you and I want your daughter.”

“Then you may have both of us. You can do anything you want with us, together or separately. Anything.”

My pulse pounded as I imagined the possibilities.

“But first, let’s watch while our daughters kiss each other, all right?”

Now Kelly’s eyes really went wide. I was almost certain that she had never kissed another girl. Before today I would have said I was positively certain, but the look she’d had on her face as she unzipped Angela’s dress and then leaned in to kiss and lick the woman’s back made me wonder if she had more experience in that direction than I knew.

Kelly had never said anything to me about having an interest in girls. She seemed, to outward appearances, to be your typical heterosexual, early teen variety. But then, to outward appearances, I certainly didn’t seem to be into women either. So, who knows?

The girls started slowly, giggling a lot at first, gingerly touching each other’s faces, but then Bambi seemed to pick up a desire for more, and her kisses were held longer on my daughter’s mouth. Soon the two children were seriously involved, their arms wrapped about each other, lips apart, tongues entwined.

If Kelly had been less adventurous at first, now that things were heating up, she asserted control. Still deep in a kiss, she shifted her feet apart, spreading her legs, and reached down with one hand to grab Bambi’s small ass. Although they stood about the same height, owing to Bambi’s boots, Kelly was three years older and much stronger. She lifted the little girl off her feet, aggressively grinding their crotches together.

“Whoa, okay, hold it, you two,” said Angela, “before you set the room on fire.”

The girls broke apart, still holding hands tightly, and everyone laughed.

I studied Kelly’s face. She glowed, alive with the passion she was experiencing. I glanced at her crotch, wondering if she was as wet as I was, and whether I could see any evidence of it.

Bambi finished wiping her little mouth and said, “Mommy, I want to watch you take off Kelly’s clothes.”

Kelly’s eyes lit up in anticipation.

Angela turned to me. “Okay, Sharon?”

“Yes, please, go right ahead.”

“Okay, Kelly?” asked Angela.

My daughter nodded excitedly, almost bouncing off her feet.

Continue on to Chapter 3

 

Continue reading The Lost Girl Game, Chapter 2 »

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The Lost Girl Game, Chapter 1

  • Posted on April 29, 2015 at 5:58 pm

By Naughty Mommy

When I first saw her, I was surprised by the way she was dressed.

A blonde girl, perhaps 10 or 11 years old — close to the same age as my own daughter, but maybe a year or two younger — wearing short black boots with heels, opaque red tights, and a gray and white patterned blouse that came to just below her little bottom. She had a wide black belt around her waist, over the shirt.

It was a sexy outfit and it immediately caught my attention. I was surprised, however, when I realized how young the girl was. Her clothing seemed better suited to a girl of 15 or 16, or even 21.

Then I noticed the way she was behaving: pacing back and forth, her hand to her mouth, frowning, glancing around anxiously, appearing as if she might be ready to cry. I wondered if she was lost.

My daughter Kelly and I were leaving a Victoria’s Secret store at the shopping mall when we saw the child.

Kelly is 12 years old, in the 7th grade. I had just finished buying her three new sets of bras and panties, the more adult kind that she was now developing the figure to wear. This was the first time I’d allowed Kelly to choose a sexy grown-up type of underwear instead of the little girl things she’d worn previously. She was thrilled and kept grabbing my arm and squeezing it as she thanked me profusely.

She had even insisted, after we paid for the stuff, on going back to the dressing room and changing into one of the sets — a hot pink push-up bra and panties — and wearing them out of the store (under her clothes, of course). I thought it was very cute of her, and the attractive teenage cashier in the store seemed amused by it too.

I must admit, though, there is a deep dark hidden part of me that was more than just amused by Kelly’s excitement. I was also secretly aroused by it.

She had not let me go into the dressing room with her while she was trying things on, but called me in to take a look at her in each new set when she was ready. And when I looked at this nubile girl wearing just a skimpy little bra and panties over her blossoming figure, I was instantly turned on. I felt a warm wetness starting between my legs as I stared at her in her sexy underthings.

It shocked me that I could find my own daughter’s body to be sexually arousing, but that’s what happened. I looked at this lovely young girl’s slim, shapely legs, her tiny waist, pert breasts, curly red hair, green eyes, and perfect pale rosy skin, and I was almost overcome with desire.

That’s what startled me. Not that I could find a girl in her underwear so exciting — I knew that from plenty of experience in looking at online pornography — but that seeing my own child dressed that way would fill me with lust. My own daughter!

Some background: I’m a single mom, bisexual, and while I tend to go out with men more often than women, I definitely prefer having sex with women more than men. It’s gotten to the point where I tell myself I should just admit I’m a lesbian and stop pretending. But I suppose some part of me thinks it will go better for Kelly if I can at least keep up the image of being straight (I don’t think she knows about my bisexuality; when I date women, I always arrange to meet them somewhere discreet).

I should also mention that I don’t really have sex very often (except with myself, of course). I go out on dates with men only once every few months, and the odds are pretty high against my sleeping with any of them. In the last several years, I have had sex with men only two or three times. I meet up with women less often, only a few times a year, but if I find them at all attractive, and if they show an interest in me, then I will usually try to go to bed with them. Still, that only happens once or twice a year. I wish it could be more, but to keep up appearances, I have made myself refrain from entering into any kind of a steady relationship with another woman.

Anyway, what I felt that day in Victoria’s Secret was very confusing to me. I kept trying to shake it off as my daughter made her choices and we finished paying for her things. However, when Kelly came out of the dressing room, ready to leave, and when I looked at her not as a typical mom sees her kid, but as a lesbian (why not just say it!) would look at a potential conquest, I felt my lust building again.

Kelly was dressed in skintight low-rise jeans, pink tennis shoes, and a dark blue crop top that revealed plenty of her slender torso. Under the jeans and top, I knew, were the racy panties and bra I’d just purchased for her. The push-up WonderBra was doing wonders for her — those little breasts, still only half-developed, were actually showing a bit of cleavage in the scooped neckline of her shirt.

My daughter often dresses that way; most of her friends do too. There is nothing unusual these days in seeing a young teenager, or even a pre-teen like Kelly, attired so provocatively. But this time, for the first time, the way she looked had an intensely arousing effect on me.

I tried to act normal, but my face felt hot as we walked out of the store together. Burning in my mind was the image of a pretty, barely pubescent girl dressed up to look extremely sexy.

So, when we turned a corner and I saw this other cute young girl in her hot little outfit, I was all ready to begin the creation of a wild fantasy about that girl that I could use later that evening in my nightly masturbation session…

But then I realized, first, how young she really was, and I thought to myself, Sharon, wait a minute, are you becoming a pedophile?! And right after that, I noticed the way she was behaving, and I started to become concerned for her. I suppose you might say that my maternal instincts kicked in, supplanting, at least temporarily, my libidinous instincts.

I put my hand on Kelly’s arm and slowed our brisk pace. “Look at that girl,” I said. “Do you think she’s lost?”

“Um, I don’t know… could be, I guess.”

At that moment, the little girl turned our way in her wandering around, and made eye contact with me.

I was struck by how very lovely she was, with big blue eyes, pink lips, and long, shiny blonde hair. Again, I felt my crotch beginning to respond to my perverted sexual desires, and I had to remind myself that this was a child who appeared to be lost. She wasn’t standing there and she wasn’t dressed that way simply for the purpose of providing a fantasy object for me. It looked like she could use some help.

I went toward her and Kelly followed. The girl had stopped pacing and was looking at me. She seemed scared and on the verge of tears.

“Are you all right, honey?” I asked. “Are you lost?”

The child didn’t answer for a moment, just turned to look worriedly each way, her hand again to her mouth. Then she said, “I think maybe I am.” Her voice was small and high-pitched.

“Are you here with someone? Your mother?”

“Um, yeah, but not here, in the mall, I mean. I told her I was going to look around for a while, but now I — I don’t know where I am.”

Her voice started to break and I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her. But because I was a stranger to her, I just placed my hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll take care of you. Now, where do you think your mommy is?”

“She’s at the hotel. In our room. I just said I was going out for a while and she asked if I knew for sure how to get back and I said yeah but now I can’t. I’m afraid she’ll get mad at me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetie. Probably she’ll be very happy when you come back safe.” I patted her shoulder and squeezed it softly. She was thin, still just a little girl (despite the way she was dressed), and not yet starting to turn into a young woman the way my daughter was.

“Now, you said your mommy is at the hotel?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you know which hotel? Is it the one here at the mall?”

“I — I think so. I don’t know the name, but it’s on the 22nd floor.”

“Well, the only hotel near here that’s that tall is the Grand Plaza, and it’s at the other end of the mall. We’ll go there, and I’ll bet you can find your mom. You probably just got turned around in this big mall with all these stores and forgot which way to go.”

The girl smiled at me, appearing reassured. I thought to myself, I could get lost in those pretty blue eyes forever. But this is just a child, Sharon! A little girl in the 4th or 5th grade!! I know, I realize that. Still, I can’t help how I feel…

I knelt and took her by the hand. Now I was looking up at her. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Um, it’s Bambi.”

“Bambi, how cute! Well, Bambi, my name is Sharon, and this is my daughter, Kelly.”

Bambi glanced at Kelly and they exchanged tentative nods.

“Now, we’re going to walk together back to the hotel, and then I’ll make sure you find your mom. All right?”

“Okay.” She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

I stood up and we started walking. I held Bambi’s hand in mine, and Kelly walked on my other side, holding her Victoria’s Secret shopping bag.

It was a long way across the huge mall to reach the exit that abutted the Grand Plaza Hotel. During the 15 minutes that we walked, I learned that Bambi and her mother, whose name was Angela, were in town just for the weekend. They lived in another city several states away. They had arrived earlier that day, done some shopping, and then Bambi had asked to go for a short walk around the mall while her mother rested for a while in their room.

As we entered the palatial lobby of the hotel, Bambi squeezed my hand and almost shrieked, “This is it!!”

“There, you see, precious? I told you that you weren’t really lost. Now let’s go find your mommy.”

The child tugged at my hand as she walked quickly toward the elevator bank. “This is it! This is it!”

I was gratified to see how excited she was about not being lost any more, and I could tell that she really had been quite frightened.

As we got off at the 22nd floor, the top floor, Bambi stepped out of the elevator and looked both ways. I had asked, on the ride up, if she knew the room number, but she didn’t. She seemed sure, though, that she could find the room.

“Where are the Cokes…?” the little girl asked, more to herself than to anyone else. Still holding tightly to my hand, she walked slowly up the hall to the right, then stopped and turned around. “Maybe over there…”

Kelly trotted that way ahead of us and called, “The Coke machine is here!”

“A-ha! That’s it!” Bambi pulled me quickly along behind her, almost running. Stopping briefly at the alcove with the vending machines, she counted off three doors, which I noticed seemed very far apart — how big were these rooms? — and then she stopped in front of 2210, close to the end of the hall.

“Mom?!” She slapped her hand on the door, which opened after a few seconds.

Inside was a stunningly attractive woman, perhaps a few years older than me, but in excellent shape. She wore a low-cut red dress that clung to her figure and showed off her cleavage. The dress was knee-length, and the woman was barefoot, with no stockings. Her long legs were smooth, tanned, and beautiful.

I admired her trim waist and her round breasts, and for a moment I wished that she could have been my date for the evening, instead of the mother of a lost little girl I’d found. If, that is, she was the mother…

That question was answered just as quickly as I’d sized the woman up and appreciated her assets.

“Mommy, I’m back!!” Bambi sprang into her mother’s arms.

The shapely blonde — Angela, evidently — caught the child and hugged her. “Well, of course you’re back, sweetie. Where else would you be?” She held her daughter close, stroking her.

As I was staring at the beautiful woman’s full red lips and imagining myself kissing her, she caught my eye and winked at me. I immediately looked down, blushing deeply.

Bambi turned and pointed to us. “That nice lady helped me get back after I — um, don’t get mad, Mommy, I wasn’t really lost. Just…”

“She was just a little turned around,” I interjected. “It’s a big mall, and she needed a tiny bit of assistance to find the hotel again.”

“Oh, that was so kind of you to help my little girl out with her twisted head. Please, won’t you come in for a minute?”

“No, thank you, that’s all right. We don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure your precious Bambi got back safe. We’ll be on our way now.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t think of it.” Setting her daughter down, Angela reached for my hand and literally pulled me inside the door. “Please come in, both of you, just for a moment, anyway. I really want to thank you properly.”

As Angela pulled, Bambi pushed. Over my protests, they soon had Kelly and me inside and had shut the door firmly behind us. It felt almost as if we were being taken captive!

“There you go, that’s better.” Angela smoothed and straightened her dress, smiling broadly at us. “Now let me introduce myself. I’m Angela Parker. Obviously you have met my daughter, Bambi.”

Angela extended her hand and I took it. She had a firm, warm handshake, which she maintained much longer than I expected.

“I — my name is Sharon. Sharon Cummings.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sharon,” she smiled, still holding my hand. “Cummings… comings…” She winked at me again.

I wasn’t certain what she meant by that, but it made me blush once more. Then Angela, still holding on to my hand, looked over at Kelly. “And this adorable creature, is she your sister?”

“Ah, no, she’s — she’s my daughter. A-Angela, this is Kelly. Kelly, Angela.” I was stammering and continued blushing as the tall blonde put her other hand over mine and squeezed it warmly. She didn’t try to shake Kelly’s hand but gave her a once-over look that I was sure I recognized.

It was the same look I’d given to her daughter, Bambi, when I first saw her in the mall, and it was the way I’d looked at Angela when she opened the door. It was a look that contained a frank physical appraisal, sizing up a potential sexual partner, or at the very least the object of a future fantasy.

I didn’t think I liked the way this woman was looking at my little girl — first at her face, then her chest, at the wide band of skin showing between her top and jeans, then to her legs, and to her crotch (!) before returning to her face — until I realized that I had looked at my own daughter in almost the exact same way not long before that in the Victoria’s Secret dressing room.

Now I was really shaken. In the space of an hour, two grown women had looked at my 12-year-old child with carnal intent. And I was one of those women!

“But she can’t be your daughter.” Angela protested. “Unless you had her when you were about 10 years old.” She laughed, and I smiled.

“That’s how old I am, Mommy,” Bambi piped up.

“Not quite, sweetie, you’re still only 9, but you’ll be 10 next month.”

“No, she — I mean, I — um, sorry, she is my daughter. And that’s flattering, but no, I — I’m not that young. I, well, I’m 34. I was, um, 21 when Kelly was born.”

Kelly must have noticed the way I was blushing and stammering. She frowned at me, shaking her head slightly, as if I was crazy.

“Well, you sure look like you could be sisters,” continued Angela. “But now, come in, sit down for a minute and let’s get acquainted.”

“No, really, we should go…” But as I demurred, she was pulling me forward again, since she still had not let go of my hand.

It was then that I looked around and discovered that we were not in any standard kind of hotel room, but in an extended suite. Angela was taking us from the foyer into a large and tastefully appointed living room. There were also at least two big bedrooms that I could see. I pondered how much a room — no, a suite! — like this would cost, and I got the idea that she, or her husband, must be very well off indeed.

Reluctantly, and after much insistence, Kelly and I finally gave in and sat down.

I was wearing a light, swishy, mid-calf skirt that day with three gauzy layers. My legs were bare, with no nylons. Although they’re not as long or as stunning as Angela’s, my legs are not bad at all. I consider them my best feature and, given how attracted I was to Angela, I was eager to let her get a good look at them. I found myself flirtatiously hiking the layers of my skirt well above my knees.

Kelly looked at me again with disapproval, no doubt wondering what had come over her mom.

“Now, what can I get you to drink?” Angela asked.

I started to get up. “No, please, we—”

But quickly and firmly I was pushed back down. Now Kelly turned her mystified look toward Angela. This behavior did seem a bit odd.

“I insist. No arguments. You went out of your way to do a great service to my little girl, and the least I can do — the very least I can do — is offer you a refreshing drink. So, what would you like? Wine? Champagne? Scotch? Maybe a martini?”

Resigned to the situation, I replied, “Well, maybe just a small glass of white wine, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course it isn’t, not at all. And how about you, pretty girl?” Angela asked, turning to my daughter.

“Um, a Coke?”

“That’s what I’m having!” chirped Bambi.

“Okay, baby-cakes, you get the Cokes for yourself and darling Kelly, while I open up a bottle of wine.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to…” I began.

Angela turned sharply toward me, her hands on her shapely hips. “Now what did I just say? No arguments. Remember? ”

“Yes, okay. You’re right.” I cringed comically and glanced over at Kelly, rolling my eyes a little bit. She just shrugged.

A minute later, all four of us were seated and enjoying our beverages. I was on a comfortable sofa, showing off my legs. My daughter was in an overstuffed chair across from me. Bambi was on the floor between us, drinking her Coke. I noticed that she kept glancing up at my bare legs, apparently enjoying the view.

Angela pulled a chair up next to the one my daughter was in. She sat down, slowly crossing her long legs as she looked at mine. Then she raised her glass, smiled at me and said, “Cheers!” I smiled back and briefly raised my glass.

The woman looked down at the Victoria’s Secret bag between Kelly’s feet. “What’s in the shopping bag, honey? Did you and your extremely young-looking mother” (she winked at me) “buy some pretty things today?”

“Um, yeah,” my daughter answered. “I, um, she, I mean, my mom got me some, uh, some new bras and undies.”

“Oh, how nice. Can I see them?”

“Okay.” Kelly leaned over and reached into the bag, bringing out a lacy white matched set of bra and panties, and another set with pink and white stripes.

“Aren’t they beautiful!” Angela took the little white bikini panties from Kelly and held them up, admiring them. “Look, Bambi, these are gorgeous, aren’t they?”

The child crawled over for a closer look. Taking the pink and white striped bra from Kelly’s lap, she held it to her own chest, as if imagining herself wearing it. “I don’t think this’d fit me yet.”

“No, probably not,” chuckled Angela, “your little boobies still have to grow some more.”

And as she said this, she reached out and pinched her daughter’s chest, squeezing the girl’s nipple and tiny breast between her fingers. Bambi giggled and pulled away.

I couldn’t believe Angela had done that! I was appalled — and yet, at the same time, I was curiously intrigued by this overtly sexual woman and her precocious little girl. What would they do next?

Kelly seemed astonished too. Her eyes were wide, but I detected a hint of a smile as well, the first she had shown since we came into the hotel room. Perhaps, I thought, she was as intrigued by these two as I was.

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

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Showing Amanda, Chapter 2

  • Posted on April 29, 2015 at 5:25 pm

By Naughty Mommy

Amanda hopped quickly over to her single bed with the Cinderella coverlet and sat cross-legged. She was wearing faded blue and pink pajama bottoms and a Little Mermaid t-shirt.

“Okay, I think this will work best if we both are, um… naked. All right?”

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yes, well, you want me to show you, right? And, usually, when a person masturbates they’re naked, or, at least, I mean, it’ll be easier for you to see that way. And then if you’re going to try, and you want me to watch and make sure you’re doing it the right, or, I mean the best way, then you should be naked too.”

“Okay.” She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her shirt off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, of course, and I felt an erotic thrill when I got a look at my daughter’s little breast buds, still not much more than bumps on her smooth chest. Her nipples, though, were sharply pointed and erect.

Then I watched her take off her pajama bottoms and pull down her Tweety Bird panties and she was nude. There was no pubic hair yet that I could see. I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from her crotch as she sat cross-legged on the bed again, but I finally managed to look up at her and smile.

After taking another deep breath, I undid the sash on my robe and let it slide down my back and fall onto the bed. Now I was naked too. I tried to be unselfconscious as I crossed my legs at the ankles the way she had. I was certain that if Amanda looked she would see the copious wetness inside my slit — but then, that was what we were there for, right?

“Okay, so, let me just start with a couple of things. First, that video you saw at school was right. There is nothing wrong or bad or shameful about masturbating. Just about everyone does it, even if some people try to pretend they don’t.” (For a brief moment I wondered about my own mother: Had she also been masturbating from time to time, even as she warned me about its sinfulness? I put that thought away for another time.)

“Also,” I continued, “every woman does it differently. There’s really no right way or wrong way — it’s just whatever you prefer, whatever seems to give you the most pleasure and satisfaction. All right?”

She nodded. “Okay. How do you do it?”

“I’m coming to that,” I smiled to myself at my accidental double entendre. “Before I start, though… well, I was going to say that if you ever have any questions, you should always feel free to ask me, whatever it is. But you don’t seem very reluctant about that, and I’m glad.”

Impulsively I leaned forward, took her face in my hands, and kissed Amanda on the mouth. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, or at least it wasn’t intended that way. I was just feeling so happy about having her as my daughter and I wanted her to know that I loved her.

I kissed her three times, then leaned back. I could feel my nipples hardening. “Now, are you ready to start?”

“Definitely!” She arched her eyebrows to show me how ready she was.

“Um, let’s see.” I looked down at my chest. My nipples were poking out, almost begging to be touched. “Okay, the first thing is, your whole body is — well, do you know what an ‘erogenous zone’ is? Did they cover that in your class?”

“A what zone?”

“An erogenous zone.” I smiled at her. “You’re so cute. That just means a part of your body that feels especially good when it’s touched. It can mean your breasts or your, um, your crotch, or, for example, your lips…”

As I said that last, I rubbed my fingertips across my lips and saw that Amanda repeated my action. “But there are a lot of places on your body that feel good when they’re touched in the right way.”

I raised my left arm and drew the fingers of my right hand slowly along the inside of it, from the wrist to the armpit. “It can be your arms…” I watched as she copied me. “Or your throat…” I put both hands on the sides of my neck. “Or your chest…” I let my fingers drag slowly down the lightly freckled and sensitive skin of my chest.

“And, of course, your breasts…” I covered my breasts with my hands and gently massaged them, feeling my stiff nipples pressing into my palms. I wondered if this was as arousing to my daughter as it was to me. “Or your tummy…” My hands slid gradually downward, and hers did too.

“Okay, now, spread your legs apart.” I uncrossed my legs and stretched them out. Amanda did the same, putting her slender ankles on top of mine.

“That’s good,” I said, then looked into her eyes. “Are you feeling anything yet? Any sort of… excitement?”

“Um, I don’t know. Kind of.” She pointed at her crotch. “Down here.”

I chuckled. “Good — that’s exactly where you should be feeling it.”

She smiled as I affirmed that she was doing well.

“But still, let’s take it slow. Another erogenous zone is your legs. For some women that includes their feet, although for me not so much. But I do sometimes like to touch myself down here.” I reached forward with both hands, placing them on the insides of my calves. Amanda did the same. “And then, very slowly, very gently, just bring your fingers up…” We moved together, gradually bringing our hands up the inside of our thighs, toward the crotch.

Just before my fingers — and hers — reached the labia, I said, “Now let’s try this. Lick the ends of your middle fingers on each hand and then, very lightly, rub the wetness on the tips of your nipples. How does that feel?”

“It tickles,” she giggled.

“Uh-huh. Now keep doing it. Get your fingers wet again.” She did, and as I watched my 10-year-old daughter stimulating herself sensually, I had a sudden surge of excitement in my cunt, so much that I almost came!

Amanda heard my groan and looked up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I…” my voice was hoarse with lust. “I… it’s just that… I’m getting… very excited. Do you, do you want to do some more? Maybe watch me, um, give myself… an orgasm?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, so you just watch me for a while. And then after I’m done, you can try.”

I looked into my daughter’s lovely blue eyes for a moment as I licked my lips, then I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed them hard, grunting with pleasure as my fingers and thumbs pinched my sensitive nipples.

“Watch Mommy now,” I whispered, letting my hands slide down over my taut stomach to my mound. I kept my pussy hair closely trimmed but not shaved. I liked how it looked and felt that way.

Spreading my legs as wide apart as I could so that my daughter could see everything, I put my hands just outside of my swollen labia and massaged my crotch. “Mmm, yeah, I’m so wet.” I pulled my pussy lips apart. “Can you see how wet I am?”

Amanda nodded slowly. Her eyes were fixed on my cunt.

I slid one hand into my slit. I knew that if I rubbed my clit right then for even a few seconds, I would come immediately. But I wanted to wait a little longer, to properly show her how it was done. I slowly pressed the middle finger of my hand deep inside my vagina.

“See, a woman can fuck herself with her fingers.” I put another finger inside myself. My daughter’s eyes grew even wider.

“It’s okay, honey, when we’re talking about this with each other, to use words that might seem naughty. So, I can tell you about fucking myself…” I began a slow pumping motion with my hand “…and I can tell you that my pussy is really wet. Okay?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off my crotch.

“And when you do it later, when you show me, if you want to talk about your pussy, or your cunt, or about fucking yourself, that’s okay too. See, it kind of makes it more exciting sometimes to talk that way. You don’t mind, do you?”

She shook her head.

“Amanda, look at me for a minute.” She lifted her eyes from my pussy to my face, although she took a quick glance down again every few seconds. “I’m fucking myself now. I’m masturbating. This is how a woman masturbates, and in just a minute, Mommy’s going to come. Do you want to watch me come?”

“Y—” her voice caught in her throat “— yeah, I… I do.”

“You like watching Mommy fuck her pussy?” I was moving two fingers in and out now, fast and hard. “You want to watch Mommy come?”

And as I said that, before she could answer, my orgasm hit.

It was the strongest climax of my life.

I screamed, and Amanda later told me that it scared her, but at the time I was unaware of anything else. I also squirted, which had almost never happened with me before, only two or three times. I came over and over again, and each time as I started to calm down, I fucked myself a little harder, and I came again.

This was it. This was without a doubt the most intense sexual experience I could imagine. I had discovered that masturbating in front of my daughter was the greatest possible turn-on for me.

Finally, after what was likely only a few minutes, but what seemed to me like most of an eternity, I had my last orgasm. And then I was able to slowly remove my dripping wet fingers from my cunt, take a few very deep breaths, and open my eyes.

Amanda was staring at me.

“Are you…. okay?” she ventured.

I could only nod and smile at her. I was too spent to say anything.

“Is that,” she frowned, “did you do that earlier today, too? Cuz, I thought I heard you scream sort of like that, before.”

I nodded weakly, then finally found my voice. “Yes,” I confessed, “when I went to my room earlier this morning, I masturbated. And I guess you heard me. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I… I guess I sort of understand now. It seems, like, really, um, intense or something.”

“Oh, it is. It is.” I pulled myself up to a sitting position. During my extended series of climaxes, I’d slid onto my back — which meant that my crotch had moved a lot closer to Amanda, since her bed was only so long. I wondered briefly what that had been like for her, but then I continued the conversation.

“It’s intense, and wonderful, and thrilling, and amazing, and addictive — oops, I can’t believe I said that.” I covered my mouth.

“Addictive…what do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

“No, what does that mean, like, you can’t stop?”

“No, no, I just mean that, it feels so good that once you start you won’t ever want to stop — and that’s okay, because like I said earlier, there’s nothing wrong or bad about it. And it really does feel amazing.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Can I try now?”

“Yeah, but…” I looked down at her little pussy. “Um, unless you’re, you know, pretty wet, it might hurt a little if you try to put your finger inside. You might need to start again like we did before to get yourself excited.”

“Um, I don’t think I have to. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but…” Using her hands, she spread apart her puffy pink labia. From where I was sitting I could clearly see the gooey gleam of moisture inside.

“Oh, you’re right! It does look like you’re wet enough, so that shouldn’t be a problem. But, um, there’s one other thing that I didn’t show you, which is how to rub your clit, or your clitoris.”

I pulled my pussy lips up and back so she could see my clit. “It’s up here, on top, and it feels really good if you rub it. But be careful, because it’s very sensitive. Sometimes you can just rub around the area, like this, and stimulate yourself. Try it.”

Amanda watched how I was rubbing my clit, or actually the skin around my clit, in a circular motion. She tried it too, and I saw an immediate reaction from her.

“Ooh! Oh!” She flinched every time she moved her fingers in a certain way.

“Now, keep doing that with one hand, and with the other hand, put just the tip of one finger inside your, um, your pussy.”

“Like this?”

“That’s right, honey. How does it feel?”

“It feels good, Mommy. And inside here, it’s really warm, and soft. And wet.” She lifted her finger up to show me her glistening liquids.

“Uh-huh, you’re getting very wet. And if you just keep doing that for a while — what you’re doing right now — pretty soon you should start to feel something different. Something even better.”

I watched as my daughter rubbed her clit with her right hand and poked the index finger of her left hand just inside her vagina. I was doing the same thing myself, and I easily could have brought myself to an orgasm within moments if I’d chosen, but of course I wanted to wait for her.

“Try… try to put your finger in a little deeper, in your pussy, but not too far.”

She pushed it in up to the second knuckle and groaned with pleasure. “It feels good,” she whispered.

“Uh-huh,” I whispered in return, “I like to watch you, baby.” I was getting very close to a climax and had to deliberately slow my movements so I wouldn’t come. “Keep doing it, sweetie, keep doing it.”

She kept it up for a while. Her eyes were closed and I was watching her, looking up at her face and then down at her cunt. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, and said, “What, um, is it I’m supposed to feel next?”

I smiled. “Well, it’s hard to describe. I guess you could say it’s kind of like a building up of pressure, like inside a volcano, or maybe like a bunch of small waves on a beach that are getting bigger, and you can tell that soon a really big wave will come.”

“I…” she frowned, “I don’t think I can feel that.”

“Okay, um, well for some women different positions work better than others. Do you want to try it another way?”

Amanda nodded.

“All right. One of my favorite ways is lying on my stomach, you know, face down. Here, turn around and lie down next to me.”

We changed positions until we were side by side on the narrow bed, our bodies touching. She looked expectantly at me. There was a glare in my eyes from the lamp by the bed. “Do you want to turn out the light? That might make it a little easier to get in the right mood.”

“Okay.” She reached up and turned off the lamp.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure how it was for her, but for me having the lights out made a big difference. Instead of feeling like I was giving her a lesson, it felt much more like we were being intimate together, almost like we were lovers.

“Now, put your hands under your body, down between your legs. Use one of them to rub your clit, like you were dong before, and use the other one to put a finger just a little bit inside your pussy. But this time, instead of moving only your hands, you can move your whole body.”

I began to demonstrate for her, rocking myself up and down on my hands. “See? See how I’m doing it? You try.”

Amanda started moving that way, awkwardly. She was obviously unsure of herself and I was suddenly afraid that she might become frustrated and would be unable to reach an orgasm. The last thing I wanted was to have my attempts to help her give herself pleasure turn into a discouraging failure.

“Does that feel okay?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

I was sure she was just being nice, because the clumsy way she was moving did not seem at all likely to arouse her. I was desperate to find a way to give her all the sexual joys that I had experienced.

“Let me — can I help you? I’ll just —” Propping myself up on one elbow, I reached out toward my little girl. I put my hand on her bottom. “I — I just want to see where your hands are, sweetie, and see if I can help you. Um, can you, open your legs up a little bit?”

While we’d been lying side by side on the single bed, both of us had our legs together, because there wasn’t much room. But I wanted to reach underneath her and feel where her hands were and what they were doing.

My daughter spread her slender thighs apart for me. I slid my hand beneath her. “Do you, are you putting a finger inside your pussy with this hand?”

“Uh-hmm.”

I leaned in closer to her, sliding my hand further up. My nipples brushed against her back. “And, um, this hand, are you holding it against your clit?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you said to rub that in a circle?”

“Oh, well, when you’re doing it this way you don’t really have to worry about the circle movement so much.”

I was trying to get my hand around hers so I could position her fingers the way I thought would work best. “I — here, move this hand away for a minute, and rock your body up and down like I was. You know what I mean?”

“Like this?”

“That’s right. Now, give me your hand again, and put it… here, and just push yourself up against it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, keep moving your body that way, and I’ll hold my hand where you should put yours, okay?”

And then, without having made a conscious decision to do so, I was having sex with my daughter. I cupped her young vulva in my hand, feeling its soft, smooth, hairless warmth. “Start moving baby.”

She began to rock up and down against my hand. I shifted my fingers just slightly, to put a little extra pressure on her clit.

“Oh, Mommy, that feels good!” She moved faster. Her other hand moved away, and now it was just me stimulating her.

“You like that, honey?”

“Yeah, omigod, it feels amazing!”

As she rocked harder against me, I began to feel slippery wetness on my palm. I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re getting very wet, aren’t you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Your little pussy is so hot. I can feel it. It’s so hot and wet.”

“Oh, Mommy…”

“I love you, Amanda.”

“I love you too, Mommy!”

I turned my thumb inward until it was between her labia, inside her slit. She was very well lubricated. Slowly, I moved my thumb until I was at the opening to her vagina. I began to probe.

She gasped “Oh, Mommy!” and fucked my hand even harder.

I pressed my fingers more insistently against her clit as at the same time I let my thumb begin to slide inside her.

She was moving very fast now and I was sure she had to be getting close to an orgasm.

“Are you going to come, baby? Are you going to come on Mommy’s hand?”

I wanted her to come, and I wanted to do whatever I could to give her pleasure. I pressed my thumb inside her a little deeper.

“Mommy, I—”

“Come for me, baby!”

“I — Ohh!!!!”

Her whole body went rigid for a second and I felt the muscles inside her vagina clamp down on my thumb. Then she shuddered several times and finally groaned, “Oh my god…”

I pulled my thumb gently out of her. She laid on her stomach for half a minute with her eyes closed, breathing heavily. I let her rest.

Finally she shuddered one last time, took a deep breath, and slowly rolled onto her side to look up at me. “Mommy, that was totally amazing! Is that what it’s like for you?”

“Well, yes, I guess it is. Orgasms are always amazing, and that’s what you just had, your very first orgasm.”

“God, it was… I can’t even say how awesome it was.” Her cute little face was glowing with excitement.

I smiled at her. “I know. That’s why I said it can be addictive.”

“Can we do it again?”

My mouth went dry. “Um, again? You mean right now?”

“Yeah! I really want to do that again. Please, can we?”

It was at that moment that I made my choice. The first time I’d helped Amanda reach a climax could conceivably have been classified as an accident, or perhaps as an innocent attempt to give her instruction. But now she was asking me to do it again, to deliberately touch her and caress her with the sole purpose of giving her sexual gratification. And I wanted to.

If I hesitated at all, it was only for a second. Then I said, “Well, I suppose we can, if that’s what you want.”

“Good. Should I lie on my stomach again?”

“Sure, go ahead,” I told her. “That seemed to work pretty well for you last time.”

She turned back onto her stomach and spread her legs apart. I was still sitting up, next to her bottom, and I had a clear view, even in the dim light, of her moist pink pussy. But her hands were nowhere to be seen.

“Are you… are you going to try doing it yourself this time?” I asked.

“No, I want you to do it for me again. That felt great.”

“Well, um… okay.” I felt my face burning with both shame and lust as I leaned over my little girl’s naked body and put my hand down between her legs.

I knew for certain that most people — practically everyone — would say that what I was doing was wrong. But right then I didn’t care. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to give her pleasure. And more than anything, I was incredibly aroused by it.

Touching my child in a sexual way may have been forbidden, it may have been taboo, but it was also intensely erotic and exciting for me.

“This time, I’m going to do it a little differently, a little more slowly,” I told my daughter as I brushed my fingers over the soft skin of her inner thighs. “I want you to feel the gradual build-up of your excitement.”

“Okay.”

This time, the second time, it was less like I was merely helping Amanda to masturbate, and more like I was making love with her. I let my hand fully explore her vulva, tenderly stroking her pussy lips, reaching up to tease her clit, then sliding back down though her wet slit to dip into her vagina, and as I did this, I gently caressed her long smooth back with my other hand.

“Mommy that feels nice,” she breathed.

I leaned down and kissed her little bottom.

She began moving to my touch, rocking her pelvis in time with the stroke of my fingers in her slit. “Oh god, oh god, Mommy, Mommy,” she moaned.

And as I felt her little pussy getting wetter and hotter, mine was getting extremely wet too. I started using my other hand to stimulate myself. I was hoping I would be able to come at the same time as her. But she seemed to be getting very close very quickly. I rubbed myself harder and faster.

I kissed her bottom again and this time I licked it too. I wanted to lick her everywhere. And when that thought occurred to me, suddenly I found myself on the verge of an orgasm.

Now I had to slow down, but I didn’t have to wait very long. Amanda was rocking against my hand faster and faster. I’d intended to put my finger or my thumb inside her vagina again when she was getting close, but that wouldn’t be easy the way she was moving so quickly now. So I just let her fuck my hand and I leaned down close to her and said, “Are you gonna come, little girl? Are you gonna come on Mommy’s hand?”

“Yeah, I, I, I — OHH GOD!!!!!”

And as she started coming, I started coming too. I didn’t even have to do anything to time it that way. It just happened.

We climaxed together, a shy, pretty 32-year-old woman, and her cute, innocent 10-year-old daughter.

When we were finished, I found myself licking my hands — both hands, tasting not only my own pussy juice, but also my child’s.

I was lying on the bed beside Amanda. Her eyes were closed, and she was still breathing heavily. Her little face was shiny with perspiration. I put my arm around her and kissed her cheek.

Slowly she opened her eyes. “Hi, Mommy,” she breathed.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered. Then I softly kissed her lips.

“That was…” she took a deep breath, followed by a long sigh, “that was even better.”

I smiled at her. “Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “It was, I don’t know, like ten times better than anything ever.”

That made me chuckle. I caressed her cheek and kissed her nose. I love my little girl so much.

“So, what do you think we should to do today?” I asked, raising myself up so that I could see the clock beside her bed. It was just past 12:00. “I know — it’s such a beautiful day, why don’t we drive out to the lake? I’ll make us a picnic lunch. We can do a little hiking and maybe we’ll even rent a canoe.”

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, can we?”

“Sure we can, sweetie.” I hugged her and kissed her cheek again. Then I playfully slapped her bottom. “Come on, let’s get up and get going.”

“Okay,” she giggled.

But as Amanda got up from the bed, retrieving her t-shirt and panties and pajama bottoms from where she’d left them on the floor, put them away in her drawer, and then began picking out some other clothes to wear, I simply stayed where I was for a few minutes, watching her, admiring her perfect little body.

I felt a stirring between my legs and wanted to touch myself again. I wanted to masturbate while I was looking at her. I suppose I could have, since our purpose there had been for her to learn all about self-pleasuring — except if I had, that might have required me to explain why I would find the sight of a nude 10-year-old girl so alluring.

So, finally, I picked up my robe and went to my own bedroom to get ready.

Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath and thought about what had just happened. It was hard for me to believe, but there was no denying it: I had just finished having lesbian sex with my own daughter. I had held her, touched her, kissed her… I’d rubbed her clit, put my finger inside her vagina, and given her an orgasm. Two orgasms!

The thought of that was enough to make me want to come again. As I’d told Amanda, it really was addictive! And then I suddenly realized something else — I didn’t feel guilty or ashamed about what I’d done with her, not in the least. On the contrary, I felt exhilarated, liberated, emancipated. I felt as if I’d finally allowed myself to become what I was always meant to be: a lesbian pedophile who loved young girls, especially my own little girl!

I turned to face the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door and smiled at my reflection. I admired my slender naked body. Not bad, not bad at all. I was tempted to masturbate, give myself a quick orgasm. Then I chuckled to myself. I knew where that would take me… one orgasm leads to another, and then another, and then another… meanwhile, Amanda would be waiting. I’d promised to take her on a picnic.

So, instead of masturbating, I quickly shoved two fingers inside my still-wet cunt, pushing them up as far as they would go. Then I drew the fingers out, raised them to my mouth, and savored the delicious taste of my pussy juice. After that I picked out some clothes and started getting dressed. I knew there would be plenty of time for more orgasms later, both by myself and with my darling daughter.

Continue on to Chapter 3

 

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Showing Amanda, Chapter 1

  • Posted on April 29, 2015 at 5:08 pm

By Naughty Mommy

“So, Amanda, what did you learn in school today?”

I set a plate of hot spaghetti in front of my 10-year-old daughter, along with another plate at my own place, and sat down next to her. We were eating dinner at the small table in the kitchen, which we normally did, and I began our evening conversation the way I usually did as well.

“Tell me what you learned today.”

Just as typically, Amanda would wrinkle her nose at this request, complaining that she’d learned nothing interesting and would prefer to talk about almost anything else.

But this time she surprised me.

“Oh, I’m glad you asked, Mom, I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what, honey? Do you have a special assignment or something?” I took a bite of green salad, which I’d served with our spaghetti, and waited for her response.

“No, but, um, there’s a question I want to ask.”

“Okay, what is it?”

She twirled a single strand of spaghetti around her fork, along with a bit of sauce, and put it in her mouth. Amanda was not a big eater.

As she began to chew the bite, she said, “Um, in science today, the teacher showed us a video. Only they made all the boys go to a different room and they saw a different video, I guess. You know, one made for boys. Because the one we saw was about girls.”

“About girls?”

“Yeah. It was called, um, Female Health and Reproduction. It told how girls get mature and stuff. You know, all that junk about how babies are made.”

“Right, right, I remember now. They sent a permission slip home a few weeks ago that I had to sign so you could view that. I’d forgotten about it. Was it interesting?”

Now she gave the typical nose wrinkle. “Most of it was boring. Just stuff I already know.”

“Okay, well, if you have any questions…” I’d already begun telling her some things about menstruation and reproduction, based on what I thought was appropriate for her age. I found it very difficult, but still I tried my best.

“I do have a question, though. About one thing they said.” She took another tiny bite of spaghetti.

“And that is?”

“Well, um, there was this doctor in the video, a lady doctor, and she was talking about the sex part, about, you know, um, safe sex and contra… um, contra…”

“You mean ‘contraception’?”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “I was gonna say ‘contradiction’ except I knew that wasn’t right.”

I smiled at her. I loved her cute sense of humor. “But you know what contraception is, right?”

“Well, yeah, the pill, I mean, like, birth control pills, and those things, uh, condoms, and stuff…”

“Okay, good.”

“But the lady doctor said something else too. When she was talking about girls having sex, she said that one way you can have sex is, like, by yourself. You know, masturbating.”

I almost choked on the sip of wine I was about to swallow. This was the first time I’d ever heard my little girl use that word. I took another drink from the wine glass. Not a sip this time, but a gulp.

I gave my daughter a forced smile, doing my best to project a calm demeanor, even though I was feeling very nervous inside. She didn’t seem to have noticed my anxiety, luckily.

“So, um, the video told us that, like, masturbation is normal and healthy and everything. That’s true, right?” She looked up at me.

I took a big bite of spaghetti and used that as an excuse to simply nod my head and not say anything.

“And they showed all these numbers and stuff,” Amanda continued, “where it said that, um, that 90% of grown women masturbate at least once a week.”

She put down her fork and looked up at me again. “Is that true, Mom? I mean, like, do you do it too?”

“Oh, um…” I swallowed my bite and then carefully cleared my throat, stalling for time while I decided how to answer her.

“Yes, honey, I suppose it is true. I imagine that nearly all women masturbate… uh, some maybe more than others, but sure, yes.”

“But — do you?”

“Well, yes, like I said, I think just about everyone does.”

“Really?”

I nodded my head, trying to be nonchalant about the issue, to behave like I thought an adult ought to behave and to be a good parent to my growing child. I use the word trying, however, because it wasn’t easy staying cool. Amanda’s question made me feel extremely anxious inside.

When I was a girl, my mother had taken a strict, shame-based approach toward sexual activity of any kind and had warned me that it was ‘dirty’ to play with myself. As a result, I grew up uneasy about my natural urges, and although I was unable to keep myself from masturbating, I tried to limit how often I touched myself, and of course I kept it a secret from my mother.

I never talked with any of my school friends about the topic either (I was shy and didn’t have many close friends anyway). And I certainly never let on to anyone, least of all my mother, that when I did masturbate, my fantasies were always about kissing other girls or about having my favorite female teachers touch me in a sexual way. I was convinced that those kinds of fantasies were especially wrong and sinful — and yet, when I indulged in them, my orgasms would be immensely powerful, and would keep on coming, one after another.

If I tried to imagine boys kissing me when I masturbated, I could never get fully aroused. But every time I thought about someone like Ms. Simmons, the tall, slender, blonde Social Studies teacher with the beautiful blue eyes, and when I visualized her watching me begin to undress, and then putting her hand inside my panties, I —

“Can you show me how?”

My daughter’s question jolted me back to the present. For a few moments, I’d become lost in a reverie of my adolescent sexuality.

“Um, you…” I stammered, “what do you mean?”

“I want you to show me how to do it.”

“Show you how to what?”

“To masturbate.”

I laughed nervously. I knew I shouldn’t laugh, but I didn’t know how else to react. “Oh, well, sweetie, that’s not usually the kind of thing mothers do with their daughters.”

“Why not?”

She was the picture of virginal innocence, her sweet face gazing at me with complete trust. Her big blue eyes, her pink lips, her clear skin; she seemed so young, still just a girl, and yet here she was, on the cusp of womanhood, or at least adolescence, asking me to tutor her in the ways of feminine sexuality.

“I — it’s just….”

“Please?”

I glanced at the clock. “Whoa, honey, look at the time! You don’t want to miss your show, do you?”

“Oh, yeah! Okay — but you can’t get out of it that easy.” She jumped up from the table and headed for the living room, calling over her shoulder, “I’m gonna ask you about it again!”

I quickly did the dishes, then stopped by to see her. She was deeply immersed in the program, an HBO series about teenage vampires or something. I kissed her on top of the head, whispering. “I’ve got some work to do on the computer. I’ll check on you again in a little bit.”

She squeezed my hand, “Okay, Mom.”

As I walked toward my bedroom, where the computer was, I thought to myself, It’s just the two of us, all we have is each other.

My mother had died unexpectedly from cancer the year I graduated from high school. My father, perennially unemployed and an abusive drunk, had left us when I was 7 years old, and I never saw him after that. So, at age 18, I was on my own. Luckily, I was a bright student and my 4.0 GPA was enough to get me a good scholarship for college.

Being on my own in the semi-adult world, and having a chance to start all over again, somehow allowed me to blossom. Maybe I simply grew into my face and body, or maybe I began to develop some confidence, but in college suddenly people were telling me how pretty I was, and boys were asking me for dates.

Of course, my masturbation continued, almost nightly by then, and my fantasies were always of girls or women kissing me and touching me. But the lessons my mother had drummed into me over all those years had taken hold, and so I still was convinced not only that lesbianism was a sin, but that there was not even the remotest possibility that I could be a lesbian.

Believing that, I began going out on a few dates with college boys, and on one fateful night in my sophomore year, I finally lost my virginity.

Jeremy was tall, blonde, and handsome, a popular student-athlete with top grades, rich parents, and plenty of young women eager to throw themselves at him. I realize now that I wasn’t really anyone special to Jeremy, just another pretty girl. But the fact that I was still somewhat reticent and seemingly hard-to-get may have increased his desire for me.

When I did finally accept his invitation for a date (after he’d asked me three or four times), I was nervous and excited. Knowing that he was so popular, perhaps I thought that being seen with him might make me popular too.

After dinner at a fancy restaurant and then a late movie, he took me back to his apartment and changed my life. I wanted sex with him to be wonderful; I wanted my first time to be magical; I wanted us to fall in love and get married and live happily ever after.

But I didn’t love Jeremy. I didn’t even like him much. He really wasn’t very nice to me. He seemed shallow, and making love with him was not special at all. It was quick and rough and unpleasant. I felt used and dirty. I cried in the car as he drove me back to the dorm, and he never spoke one more word to me after that night.

Of course, when I discovered I was expecting a child, I never told him about it. I arranged a transfer to another college in a nearby city and before I’d begun to show very much, I was around people who hadn’t known me before.

Those early years were difficult. I refused to drop out of school, and although I had to reduce my course load so that I could work part-time and earn money, I kept up my studies.

Having Amanda in my life made the tough times worthwhile, though. We had hardly anything, but we had each other. Every spare penny I could get my hands on, I spent making her happy, giving her as joyous and carefree a childhood as I could manage.

After eight long years, I had a Masters Degree in Social Work. Then I succeeded in getting a good job with the state government; not a great salary at first, but a challenging and rewarding position with plenty of future potential. I’ve done quite well there, too, moving up quickly. Now, at age 32, I’m a Section Supervisor, with more than twenty people working under me.

The only thing missing from my life is romance. Not that I haven’t had opportunities. That is, I’ve been asked out over the years by one nice-looking man after another. But it has never felt right, and not once have I gone on a date with anyone while raising Amanda.

And even though I masturbate frequently, and even though all my fantasies are of the lesbian variety, I still have never really allowed myself to accept that I’m not straight. After all, I look straight, don’t I? And men certainly seemed to find me attractive. So how could I be a lesbian?

No, I keep telling myself, I am what I always have been: a shy, pretty woman who isn’t comfortable being with men, and who has unusual erotic fantasies, but who is not a lesbian.

I’m just not cut out for love, it seems, excepting my love for my child.

And speaking of my child, what should I do now, with a young daughter just 10 years old openly expressing curiosity about female sexual practices — should I even consider teaching my little girl how to masturbate?

That’s what I was pondering that night as I sat down at the computer. I opened Google and typed in the question: “Should a mother teach her daughter how to masturbate?”

I was stunned to discover that I was not the only person wondering about this strange subject. Apparently there were lots of other mothers like me, with curious daughters, who wanted to know if they should do this or not.

According to Google, there were more than 2.7 million pages that addressed this question, or some variation of it. I clicked on the top three results, opening separate tabs for each of them, and started reading.

Here is some of what I read that night:

If a mother and daughter have a good relationship otherwise, then yes, I am a firm believer in parents instructing their offspring on sexual things. Who better to teach her daughter how to masturbate than her mother?
……

I have shown my daughter the way to masturbate. She saw me masturbating, one time, and asked me about it, and so I showed her. My mother also taught me how to masturbate when I was 10.
……

Well, my mother did it for me. When I was around 11 she asked to come with her and we went into her bedroom. She said she knew I was curious and she wanted to make sure I was doing it right. So she pulled down her panties, showed me her pussy, and told me to watch carefully. I was really intrigued as I watched her rub herself and get excited. After she had a climax she told me to try. So I took my clothes off and did it the same as she had done. While she was watching she started doing it again too. It was so intense and I had my first big orgasm. After that I knew what I was doing and I thanked my mom for her openness. Then I decided it was up to me to teach my little sisters how to do it. So I think it is fine and if I ever have a daughter of my own I will do the same for her.

As I skimmed through the various pages about mothers teaching their daughters to masturbate, I started touching myself. That was a common enough practice for me; I usually gave myself an orgasm at least once a day, and often at night I would search for erotic stories about lesbianism or for pictures of young women playing with themselves or having lesbian sex and I would make myself come while sitting at the computer.

But I hadn’t really planned to masturbate just then. I almost never did it before Amanda was asleep in bed. Still, as I read about mothers showing their daughters how to pleasure themselves, I found it irresistibly arousing. And by the time I reached the third entry above, after I’d been reading assorted answers for about five minutes, I was already quite wet.

The description the writer gave of her mother masturbating in front of her and then of the two of them doing it together pushed me over the edge. I came hard and loudly, with several recurring orgasms.

A few moments later, as I sat staring at my computer, breathing hard and still slowly sliding two fingers in and out of my wet vagina, I heard a knock at the door. “Mom, the show’s over. I’m going to bed now.”

“Um — okay!” I hurriedly tried to button up my jeans, hoping she wouldn’t come into the room and discover what I’d been doing. My fingers were slippery with my juices, though, and I fumbled with the buttons. “I’ll…I’ll…come in and kiss you goodnight… um, in a minute, sweetie!”

“All right…” then, after a pause, “are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine!” Still trying to catch my breath, I walked quickly to the door and opened it, trying to appear perfectly normal. I patted Amanda on the cheek. “You get ready for bed now, and then I’ll come in and say goodnight.”

“Okay, but…” She cocked her head, looking at my reddened face. “Are you sure you’re okay? Not sick or anything?”

“Of course, I’m fine, sweetheart,” I assured her, patting her cheek again — then suddenly I realized that I was touching her face with the fingers that moments before had been deep inside my cunt! I pulled my hand away and slid it in my pocket, hoping she’d not been able to smell the evidence of what I’d been doing.

Fifteen minutes later, after I’d thoroughly washed my hands, then tucked my little girl into bed and kissed her goodnight, I was back in my room, undressing quickly and sliding naked under the covers. Usually I would not get in bed quite so early, but I had a lot to think about that night.

Why had the things I was reading about been so exciting to me?

Why was I so nervous when Amanda asked me about masturbation?

Why was I so concerned about hiding what I’d been doing before she knocked on the door?

Why did I feel so guilty about everything?

The answer to my questions seemed obvious: it was because of the way I’d been raised by my mother, to think of sex and masturbation as shameful. And yet, that still didn’t explain why I’d found myself so incredibly aroused by what I was reading. The stories about mothers teaching their daughters to masturbate had a powerful affect on me, but why?

Why, when I pictured a woman taking off her panties and spreading her legs and showing her naked pussy to her 11-year-old daughter and then touching herself, why did that make me want to come? Was that normal?

Why, when I pictured the woman climaxing in front of her daughter, and then urging the little girl to take off her clothes so her mother could see her naked pussy, and then the two of them masturbating together, why did that get me so hot?

I was rubbing myself again as I thought about these questions and pictured the situations. What would it be like, I wondered, for me to show Amanda — and then I came again.

I rolled onto my side, clenching my thighs together around my hands, climaxing over and over again as I imagined my little girl watching me. It was a long night, and I didn’t get very much sleep, but over several hours I must have brought myself to at least a dozen orgasms, and perhaps many more. I wasn’t counting.

When morning came, I was exhausted. My pussy was sore and my fingers had such a strong scent of female arousal that I thought I might never be able to wash them clean. Fortunately it was a Saturday, so I didn’t have to go to work.

About 9:30, I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower — where I proceeded to masturbate several times again.

Slipping into a robe and a pair of panties, I went out and found Amanda sitting on the couch watching MTV and eating a bowl of cereal. I kissed her on top of the head. “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Hi, Mom,” she said around a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles.

I made myself some coffee and sat at the kitchen table slowly sipping it, still trying to figure out what was going on with me. After a few minutes, Amanda came in. She put her cereal bowl in the sink and then sat down at the table. She reached out her hand and smoothed down my hair. It was still wet from the shower and I had not combed it very well.

“Are you okay?” She looked at me with concern.

“Sure, honey, I’m fine,” I smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You just look tired.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “I didn’t really sleep that well. But don’t you worry, Mommy’s going to be just fine.” I tweaked her nose.

She giggled, then crossed her arms on the table and laid set her chin down on them, looking up at me with her big blue eyes. “Um, so, can you show me, you know, about masturbation today?”

“Oh, well, it’s, I… I’ve been thinking about that.”

Amanda’s eyes lit up.

I felt a stirring between my legs. And without making a conscious decision, I heard my voice give her the answer that she wanted. Which, apparently, was also the answer that I wanted.

“Yes. Sure. We can do that.” Involuntarily I clenched my thighs together, hard, and shivered with erotic pleasure. I knew could make myself come again very quickly, already was I so aroused just from thinking about doing it in front of her.

She smiled at me. I wanted to kiss her pretty mouth, and that thought got me even wetter.

“But, first, um, I’ve got a couple of things I need to do, so you can watch TV, or, I don’t know, do you have homework?”

She was shaking her head and I was standing up, a little unsteadily, and then starting for my bedroom, my unfinished cup of coffee still on the table. “Let me… I’ll just… do this stuff, and then come back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.” I heard her answer as the kitchen door swung shut behind me.

Before I’d even reached my room, I had my robe open and my hand inside my panties. I shut the door, fell face down onto the bed, and masturbated furiously, humping my hand, thinking about my daughter. Over and over I made myself come, first while lying on my stomach, then on my side, then on my back.

After one last intense climax had passed, I sat up groggily, pulled my panties back up from around my knees, then struggled over to my computer and turned it on.

I opened a folder I had with pictures of Amanda. I found a recent one of her pretty face with a big smile and enlarged it. Then I opened a second folder with explicit shots of young women masturbating. I found one that looked like it was of a very young girl, with a tiny pink shaved pussy, and I put it side by side with Amanda’s picture. I imagined that I was watching my little girl touch herself, and that she was watching me, and then that we were kissing each other — and as I fantasized, I touched myself and came again and again and again.

Finally, when I realized that I’d been in my room for over an hour after I’d said I’d be gone for only a few minutes, I decided it wasn’t fair for me to shut Amanda out like this, just when she was asking to be included, wanting me to share with her some of the most important and special parts of my life.

I convinced myself that since I loved her so and since all I wanted was what was best for her, surely no harm could come from a loving mother sharing her intimate secrets with her darling daughter.

Then I licked my fingers clean, not bothering to wash them this time, and turned off the computer. Before I left the room, I decided to change from the old terry robe I was wearing. I went to the closet and got out my nicest silk robe. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled off my panties and left them on the floor. And then I went back out to see my little girl.

Amanda was in her bedroom, with the door open, looking at herself in the mirror and brushing her hair. I leaned against the door jamb. “You look so pretty.”

She smiled, “Of course you would say that. You’re my mom.”

I walked over to stand behind her, taking the brush and pulling it slowly through her shiny blonde tresses. I caught her eyes in the mirror, “No, I really mean it. You are a very pretty girl, and you’re going to be a beautiful young woman.”

She blushed. “Thank you.”

There was silence between us for a few moments as I gently brushed her hair and she gazed at her reflection in the mirror and then back up at me.

“So,” I asked, “have you been thinking about this stuff for a while? About masturbating, I mean, or did it just come up because of your class?”

“Well, no, I mean, I’ve thought about it some, ‘cuz, you know, the kids at school talk about it and stuff. But not really.”

I knew, of course, that in our modern sex-obsessed culture, most children had plenty of exposure to the idea of masturbation by the time they were 10. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, so I said, “And, at this point, you’re really sure you want to learn about it? I’m happy to tell you, but only if you’re ready.”

“Not tell me. Show me.”

“Oh. Yes. All right.” My pussy started heating up again. I wondered why she was so insistent about being shown.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, not at all, honey, it’s fine. I want to make sure you know everything you need to know to be happy and well-adjusted and everything. That’s part of my job as a mommy.”

She smiled. “Good.”

I put down the hairbrush, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay, then, are you ready?”

She turned around and looked up at me, her face beaming. “Yeah!”

“All right, so, let’s go over to your bed and sit down.”

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

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