Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Tater Tot

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in June 2015 }

I rolled my eyes as I stopped in my daughter Amber’s door — a little shocked, but wanting to laugh at the same time. I leaned against the door frame, watching as she masturbated with her left hand. Her eyes were closed and her hand was moving furiously, flat as if trying to scrub herself, with an expression of frustration on her face.

Of course, she chose that exact moment to open her eyes and saw me standing there.

I sighed as she screamed, “Mom!” then turned and covered her face with a pillow.

“Amber, it’s okay,” I said as I walked over to stand by her. She didn’t even twitch. “Amber, honey, turn around, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” I said again.

“Go away,” she mumbled into the pillow.

I sighed again, knowing exactly how this was going to go. Stay in her room all night, slink around me for days, then be angry and defensive for weeks. We went through this every time she became embarrassed. I wanted to pinch her just for the reaction, but I decided to give her a reason to be embarrassed instead.

Lying down next to her on my back, I flipped my skirt up, slipped a hand in my panties and started masturbating. I was actually a little wet from watching Amber play with herself, though her technique was anything but erotic. I pictured the time Dan and I had sex in the car, giving him a blow job, fucking on the car hood, then bending over and letting him fuck me in the ass until I had a screaming orgasm. Too bad he was a cheating son of a bitch, he was great in bed.

After a little while I wasn’t even aware of Amber — lost in my memories, riding the waves of pleasure I got from my clit and periodically inserting a finger. I didn’t try to delay it and reached an orgasm in less than ten minutes.

I came with a grunt and clenching of my pussy, then slowly drew my hand out and licked my finger clean as I opened my eyes. Amber gasped beside me, so I turned to see her facing me, wide-eyed with her mouth hanging open in shock.

Laughing, I said, “Yes?”

“Mom,” she gasped, “did you come?”

I twitched an eyebrow at the phrasing, but gave a laugh and said, “Of course, that’s why people masturbate. Why do you do it?”

She looked embarrassed, sad and frustrated at the same time as she said, “I try, but never have,” then turned her head away, blushing.

“Well,” I said, “it might have something to do with the way you’re doing it.”

Her head perked back up, but she was still blushing as she said, “I don’t know how, I tried…” then stopped, blushing harder.

I turned on my side to face her, head resting on my palm as I tried to decide what she was trying to say. “You tried… what?”

Her face stayed turned away as she said, “You know… putting… you know, a finger… well, putting it… sort of in… you know.”

I almost laughed but caught myself, knowing she would just turn away and sulk again. “Putting your finger in your pussy?” I asked.

She turned to face me and gasped, “Mom!”

That did get me to laugh, but I hurriedly said, “We’re talking about masturbating, honey, so saying ‘pussy,’ isn’t a bad thing. We’re both old enough to not be embarrassed by it.”

I could see the “old enough” statement helped, making her feel like an adult, so I continued, “You weren’t using a finger when I came in.”

She looked up from under her eyelashes and blushed some more as she said, “It just hurt to use my finger, and I had heard other girls say they rubbed themselves.” Giving me a frustrated look, she added, “But they can also see internet porn, and I can’t!”

I laughed again, but held up my hand when she started to get angry, saying, “Sorry, but I never thought of having porn blocked being a handicap.” Looking more directly at her I said, “Those girls were talking about rubbing their clits, or pushing against something to simulate sex, not actual rubbing like you were doing.”

She looked interested, then confused before saying, “I tried to find my clitoris, but I think I mustn’t have one.”

I giggled, then stroked her face and said “You’re young, and some girls have theirs hooded.”

Now she was getting thoughtful, something I’d seen a thousand times — give her some information she was interested in, and she would become focused until it drove you nuts. She cocked her head at me for a second then said, “So how do they have orgasms?”

Wow, guess this was the day for serious sex talk. Trying to get comfortable, I said “Well, penetration is one way, though you’ll want to try to be somewhat excited and wet before doing much. I find that kind of orgasm to be more satisfying, but it takes longer. Most girls use clitoral stimulation when masturbating, but it does make you more impatient over time.”

That was a lot of information, and I could see her trying to sort it out. She was pursing her lips in and out as she thought for a while, then said, “So what do you do to get excited?”

I could see she really didn’t get it, thinking it was a mechanical-type thing, how to touch yourself just right to achieve a specific result. “Honey,” I said, then waited for her to look at me. “When was the last time you became excited when not trying to masturbate?”

She blushed ferociously, causing me to blink, then smile as I waited to hear what was so embarrassing. Did she see a boy naked?

When she didn’t say anything, I said, “Baby, we’re talking about sex, I don’t think you have any reason to be embarrassed. What got you so excited? It’s important to know before I can tell you how it all works.”

She was looking around, acting trapped, but finally whispered, “My teacher.”

I nodded, remembering my own teenage crushes, and said, “Which one?”

Her head went all the way down until her face was in her pillow as she said, “Ms. Thompson.”

I blinked, then almost laughed again — but held it, knowing she wouldn’t handle it well at all. “Well, that’s normal. Most of us have girl crushes early on.”

She peeked up at me and said, “Really?”

I did laugh then and said, “Of course, I’ve had quite a few in my life, and still have them time to time.”

Amber blinked, dumbfounded I think, to realize her old mom was talking about lesbian urges. I wanted to giggle uncontrollably at her shock, but held it in again. When she had a moment she said “Wow. Okay… that’s… well, that’s… I don’t know.”

I wiggled an eyebrow at her, then said, “Anyway… the reason I asked is because when you masturbate you should be thinking about something that excites you, a scenario or fantasy that you live as you play with yourself.”

She blushed again at my words, but kept looking at me, thinking about what I was saying. She nodded to herself, then frowned and said, “What were you thinking when you just did… you know.”

Grinning, I said, “Masturbated?”

She gave me a shy smile and said, “Yeah, masturbated.”

“A time when your father and I had a lot of fun,” I answered.

She gave a half-nod again, but sort of sneered. I understood, she really didn’t much like Dan anymore, not that I could blame her. She thought for a while, then spoke distractedly as she thought out loud. “So you fantasize about something exciting, then when you’re excited, you use your fingers to make you more excited until you orgasm.”

It sounded so logical that I grinned, as she reminded me of me when I was at work solving a problem. Then she blushed and glanced at me, obviously remembering what her fantasy was about.

“It’s okay to think about a woman, Amber,” I said seriously. “Thinking about or even having sex with another woman isn’t evil. Just because you do doesn’t mean you’re a lesbian.”

She was still blushing, but she was looking quizzically at me, so I smiled and said, “Yes, your decrepit old mother has fantasized about women, and I had a girlfriend in college.”

That got a gasp of shock as she said, “Mom!” again.

I laughed at the expression on her face, but waited for her to get it together. She eventually pulled herself back and looked at me appraisingly, acting like I was someone she’d never seen before, so I shrugged and said, “So you fantasize about your teacher, then when you’re wet enough, try easing a finger in. Don’t push in too far, just enough to feel it. Try to tie the fantasy into the physical things you’re doing.”

She blushed as I sat up and moved toward the door. Stopping as I stepped out, I turned and said, “Have fun, but remember we’re going shopping tomorrow morning.”

Big blush, but she nodded.

I found myself masturbating to an orgasm that night, picturing Amber doing the same.

*****

We had fun the next day, though I caught her giving me a couple of appraising looks. The conversation had given her a lot to think about — but I didn’t say anything, though I was dying to know if she had her orgasm.

It wasn’t till that evening while I was in bed reading that Amber finally came to talk. She was wearing her pajamas, though they were looking a little young on her fourteen-year-old frame. She was going to have small breasts and they hadn’t grown big enough to really need a bra, as much as she wished they might. The growing she’d done this year had pushed her to five-four and caused her to look a little skinny, all long legs and arms.

I smiled at her and set my book down as she crawled in next to me, kept her face down and muttered, “It didn’t work.”

I slid down to lie next to her and said, “Tell me.”

She kept her eyes down as she said, “I did what you said. It sort of worked, but I didn’t orgasm. At least I never felt anything like people say.”

I shook my head and pushed the hair out of her face, thinking about what to say. How do you tell someone how to orgasm? It seemed natural to me. The talk was actually making me a little horny, which is probably why I suggested what I did.

“Do you want me to help, baby?” I asked.

She looked up at me questioningly, then blushed and said, “Could you? How?”

This was my last chance to stop, and I didn’t take it. “I’ll try to talk you through a fantasy and touch you, so you know how to do it. Once you have an orgasm, you’ll be able to do it yourself.”

She really blushed, but nodded her head immediately. “Well, turn off the lights and crawl in with me,” I said.

Amber jumped up and flipped the lights off, and came back to slide under the covers. I set my book aside and pulled her close to me, spooning her from behind. Placing an arm around her I propped my head on some pillows by her ear and said, “So, honey, I’ll describe a fantasy, then touch you until you become wet. When you are, I’ll use a finger until you come. Okay?”

She was gasping a little in excitement as she said, “Okay.”

Putting my hand on her stomach, I started rubbing in soft circles.

“You’re at school, in Ms. Thomson’s room. It’s after school and you have to stay late to talk about grades. She walks in, then shuts and locks the door before sitting at her desk. You walk up to stand beside her when she waves you forward. She tells you that your grades could be better, and you need to work harder.

“She takes your hand and pulls you closer until you’re standing between her legs, looking down at her. She tells you that she could probably help you with your grades if you want, then reaches around and puts her hand on your ass.” I reach down and rest my hand on her ass cheek, then start rubbing it slowly as I continue. “You’re staring at her as you nod and say, ‘Yes, Ms. Thomson, I would like your help.’ She smiles and brings her hand around to the front of your legs.” I slide my hand off her ass and around to the front of her thigh, squeezing it softly. “She tells you that if you do what she wants, she can make sure your grades get better.”

Amber gave a soft gasping moan as she seemed to realize she had stopped breathing for a second, then started panting a little as I continued.

“You nod again and say, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Her hand slides up slowly as she stares into your eyes, then finally rests on your pussy.” My hand did that, resting on the outside of her pajama bottoms, pressing into the hot center of her pussy. Amber made a soft groan and twitched her hips forward and back once.

“Ms. Thomson’s hand slides to the top of your pants as she says, ‘Would you like to earn an A this semester?’ You nod again as her hand slides slowly into your pants, easing under your panties.” My hand did the same, sliding in, pushing under the waistband of her panties. “Her fingers touch the top of your wet pussy and she says, ‘Are you willing to work hard and do what I say, Amber?'” My hand reached her wet slit, drawing a loud moan from her as her whole body twitched.

I continued whispering, “Her finger rests against your wet slit as you nod excitedly at her. She smiles as her finger runs up and down your wet pussy, making you so wet and excited. You can see her breasts down her blouse, and how her nipples are standing up as her finger presses against your pussy.”

My finger was sliding up and down Amber’s wet pussy, and continued to do so as I spoke. “Ms. Thomson slides her hand out and unbuttons your pants, sliding them and your panties down, exposing your wet pussy to her, making her lick her lips in excitement. She moves you over to sit on the edge of the desk, spreading your legs as she says, ‘What do you want me to do now, Amber?’”

I stopped talking as my finger moved up and down, pressing harder as her juices flowed. I almost giggled as she mumbled, “Eat me.”

I slid my middle finger in slightly, though she was so tight that it took effort to push up to the first joint as I said, “Ms. Thomson lets her head slide between your legs, and her tongue comes out to push into your wet pussy.”

Amber came at that point, moaning loudly and pushing her hips hard against my hand, humping it a couple of times as she grunted and moaned. She was panting hard when she finally relaxed, so I pulled my hand away, bringing it to my mouth as she turned onto her back and watched me lick my fingers clean.

Her eyes were half closed as she watched, her face totally relaxed. I snuggled her close and said, “And that’s an orgasm.”

She fell asleep almost immediately. I waited a moment, then fingered myself to an orgasm, reliving what had just happened.

Continue on to Chapter 2

By Amanda

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in September 2006 }

I was always very liberal with my daughter. I began teaching her about life from a very young age and a part of that teaching included her learning about sex and sexuality. She had a gay uncle who spent a fair amount of time at my home with his ‘girl’ friend. Sam was transgender, but happy to remain half way between male and female. Sam preferred to be acknowledged as a female, and I did everything I could to accommodate her. She had legally changed her name from Samuel to Samantha, allowing her to retain the nickname Sam. We explained what Sam was to my lovely little girl, Christina. We also explained that Michael, her uncle, preferred men to women and that meant he was gay. Chris pretty much took it all in then without a question or anything else, then asked to go swimming at the community pool.

Chris basically took everything at face value, so to her Sam was her aunt. They got on well, and I was happy to let them spend time together whenever they wanted. Sam’s maternal instincts were in overdrive, I would suspect from the hormones she was taking.

My little girl was taught that people had the right to make their own choices in life and no one had the right to say they couldn’t. I educated her to the best of my ability in all things from drugs to smoking to sex. I wanted her to be ready to face the world, and to always know that I was there to help her through anything she needed me for.

So three days after her twelfth birthday, when Christina came to me and said she was gay, I was more relieved than anything. Relieved because she trusted me with it, and I knew that I could support her through whatever hardships she might face as she grew up.

Like any mother, I suppose my first instinct was to deny what she’d told me, but I knew better. Mike had told me he’d always known he was gay. He’d known since before he understood anything else. I knew homosexuality was genetic, so I just assumed it must run in our family. It made me wonder how many of my relatives from the past might have been gay. That brought about a few weeks of learning about long-dead grandparents, grand uncles etc. There was a couple, a great aunt who died in the seventies, and a great grandfather that had died in the fifties. Both had been married. Both had also been quite odd according to what I was able to deduce based on what my mother and aunt had told me. The great aunt had a female friend that had lived in the same house as she and her husband throughout most of their lives, right up until she died, leaving my great aunt alone, having already been widowed by my great uncle.

My great-grandfather took solitary trips to Fire Island. That was all I needed to hear to suspect his fluctuating sexuality. The other clue was that he had exactly one child, my grandmother. This during a time when birth control was rarely used, and Catholic men were expected to father many children.

I, however, was not gay — I didn’t think so, anyway. Mostly I was asexual at best. I had been with Chris’ father for six months and we’d only had sex three times, the third being the charm. He left me when he found out I was pregnant, and that was fine since I was perfectly secure in my ability to raise a child on my own.

During the nine months I was pregnant, I went to school. After having Chris, I got a job as an office assistant and went to school for computer networking. Now I pulled down eighty thousand a year keeping a small company connected to all its customers and employees. In the time since Chris’ birth I’d not met a man I felt drawn to. I basically felt no sexual desire at all. I simply wanted to raise my daughter and play with my computers.

Now, all this is not to say I never masturbated. I had from time to time, but I wasn’t very sexual at all.

Three weeks after coming out to me, my daughter called me into the bath room. “Teach me how to shave my legs, Mom,” she said, looking up at me from the tub. It was strange seeing her in the bath, since she most often took a shower.

“Aren’t you a little young? I mean, you really only need to do that if your leg hair shows, and yours is still blonde.”

I looked down at my little girl, five pounds overweight and cute as she could be with her chubby little cheeks. But then I found myself looking at her legs. I was tracing their lines from her ankle to her thigh. I glanced between her legs to see that there was as yet no visible hair.

I tore my eyes away, a little surprised at myself. I looked into her face to see her smiling at me. “But mine aren’t smooth like yours,” she whined.

And they don’t need to be till you have a girlfriend, I thought to myself. I still thought of her my little girl, such a typical parent thing, I suppose, but she wouldn’t stay a child forever. I decided that since she felt the time was right, I would go with it until I had reason not to. “Okay,” I finally agreed. I opened the cabinet under the bathroom sink and got her a fresh razor. This I handed to my little girl. “Get the shaving cream there and put some in your hand, then rub it on your legs.”

“No, you,” she said, giggling. She handed the can of shaving cream to me.

I remember wondering what the difference was as I took the can and expressed some of its contents into my hand. I took her leg and beginning with the ankle smoothed the cream up to her knee. I could not help but glance between her legs to see that she did have a small patch of blonde hair growing there. It was clearly visible now that I was closer. “All the way up, Mom!” she demanded. I wrinkled my forehead but continued smearing the cream up her thigh. I stopped short of the fold where her leg met her hip.

I took the razor from my daughter. “Now pay attention or you’ll cut yourself.” I pulled the razor along her leg carefully. “See, keep the blade from moving the long way and you’ll be safe.”

I handed the razor back to her and watched as she finished the leg. She handed me the can of shaving cream again and bent her other leg up. “Now this one.” I did as she asked, sitting back and letting her shave her other leg on her own. When she was finished she rubbed her legs and smiled happily. “Smooth,” she giggled.

She reached out of the tub and grabbed my hand, rubbing it on her lower leg. “See?” she said with a smile. I smiled back. She had such soft skin and it felt quite nice, freshly shaved. I noticed that her hand was still holding mine against her leg and she was slowly moving it up toward her thigh.

At the time I didn’t think much of it and simply took my hand away, seeing a bit of disappointment in her eyes — though again, I thought nothing of it.

It was not until later that night as I lay in bed that I found out how much my daughter’s shaving lesson had affected me. I could not sleep, and tossed for quite some time before realizing that the distraction which kept me awake was my libido. I was excited.

Somewhat annoyed, I rolled on my back and slid a hand between my legs. I would get this over with quickly. As a rule, my libido was more of a distraction than anything else.

As I lay rubbing my clit, feeling the familiar build of an orgasm, I found my thoughts turning to how smooth my little girl’s leg had felt, how flawless her skin was. I found myself wondering if the little patch of hair between her legs was softer than my own… wondering what would have happened if I had not pulled my hand from my daughter’s grip.

I came hard, harder than I can ever remember coming before. I rolled on my side and closed my eyes, ashamed. I’d brought myself to orgasm while fantasizing about my little girl. I couldn’t believe what I’d done. The guilt I felt was almost unbearable.

Another thought occurred to me. I wondered if my little girl had known what she was doing. She had always been a precocious child. It could have been possible that she was testing out her sexuality on me. Of course at the time I didn’t believe that, it seemed far too outlandish to even consider seriously. No, I turned it all in on myself. I felt there must be something wrong with me, that I was broken.

The next day I awoke, hardly remembering the night before. I showered and went to work like any other day. When I got home that night around six, I found Chris had cooked dinner. She had it set out on the dining room table with the lights low and candles burning. I set my briefcase down and joined her at the table.

“So what brought this on?” I asked as she scooped mac and cheese onto my plate. She then served me lima beans and mashed potatoes. To her, this was a feast fit for a queen. This meal served by my little girl was exactly that in my own mind, I suppose.

“I love you, so I made you dinner.” She served herself and sat down at the table, digging in right away.

“How was school today?”

“Dumb,” she said with a mouth full of potatoes. “Fiona and I got in trouble for talking in math class.”

“Yeah? Well you know you’re not supposed to do that.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I only had to stay after for fifteen minutes.” She served herself more potatoes. “I don’t have any homework, I got it all done before you got home,” she said, sounding a bit proud. I would still check it, but I rarely had to have her redo anything, so for the most part it sounded like we would have the night together.

“How was work, Mom? Oh it was fine, you know, computers broke, I fixed them,” I said after a long silence.

Chris looked a little embarrassed that she had not asked me about my day. She had obviously tried to make our dinner perfect. “It’s okay, hon.” I told her, trying to relieve some of the guilt. “But just remember, you should always ask how someone’s day is, even if you don’t care. It’s just polite.” She nodded her head.

We talked quite a bit while we ate. I asked her if she and Fiona, a friend she had found since coming out to me, was her girlfriend. She told me that she had a crush on someone else — but no matter how much I probed, she would not tell me who.

We spent the night watching television. I held my little girl close, like I so often did while we sat on the couch. I was really enjoying cuddling her, but then the shame from the previous night reemerged. Almost involuntarily I pulled away from Chris, but she held tight and tried to pull me back.

“What’s wrong?” I heard her little voice.

“Nothing, sweetie, I was just going to get something to drink.”

The trip to the kitchen and back gave me time to clear my head, so that when I got back to the couch I was able to snuggle up with my daughter without feeling dirty. We went to bed a little earlier than normal that night, and again I found myself tossing and turning, though this time from guilt and not sexual excitement.

I woke up ready to face the day. It was Friday, an easy day to face as a rule. I went to work starting to feel better about the fantasy I’d had about my little girl. It was just random thoughts during masturbation, and I should let it go as such.

Around three, Chris called to tell me she was going to stay with her friend Fiona until I got home. I told her to make sure to be home when I got there and hung up.

I made it through the day and headed home. I pulled into the drive and got out of the car, lugging my briefcase with me. I opened the front door to Chris’ smiling face. She immediately took my briefcase and handed me a glass of club soda. “Can we go out to dinner tonight?” she asked me right away.

I pushed into the house and sat down. After a sip of my soda I looked up at her. “Thanks, sweetie. Umm, where did you want to go?”

“Banana’s,” she said. She loved that restaurant. It was a nice place on the south side of Boulder. I agreed, and after finishing my club soda led her out to the car.

We didn’t talk much as we drove the ten minutes to Banana’s. Personally I was just dreaming about the weekend. I had things I had to do, but a few things I wanted to do.

We were led to our seat and the hostess took our drink order. “She’s pretty,” Chris said as the woman walked away.

“You like black girls?”

“Fiona is black,” she told me. I honestly didn’t know. I’d never met the girl.

“I thought you said that you liked someone else,” I said, teasing her.

“Yeah, but at first I liked Fiona, that’s how we got to be friends,” she confessed. “They have cute butts,” she giggled.

“Christina!” I laughed. “Well, I suppose they do,” I admitted.

We talked about such silly things right up until our food was brought to the table. “I did my homework at Fiona’s,” Chris told me. Her tone told me that she was lying, but she had the whole weekend to get it done so I let it go. I did find myself wondering, though, what it was that she’d done at Fiona’s that she didn’t want me to know about.

When we got home, I went to my office to check on the new server we’d just installed at the office. While I was working on that, Chris turned on the television and began searching through the channels.

When I finished checking out the new server, I joined my daughter in the living room. “I thought you were going to ask to spend the night with your friend when you called me today,” I said, half paying attention to the show.

Chris looked up and smiled. “I thought about having a sleepover here, but I wanna have it with you.”

“With me?” I asked, a bit surprised. “I’m an old lady, though.”

“Yeah, but you’re my best friend.”

Yeah, but? I thought to myself. “So you think I’m old, huh?” I teased.

“NO!” she laughed. “You’re not old, just older than me.” Chris began giggling. “Grandma’s old,” she added.

“So what then, I’m supposed to sleep on the floor in your room?” I asked. There was no way that’d happen, but I was teasing her.

“No, I’ll sleep in your room.”

“There isn’t room on the floor,” I told her.

“I knooow, Mom, jeez. I’ll sleep in your bed, like I do at Anna’s when I stay with her.”

That raised some questions in my mind. My daughter’s recent coming out made me wonder what she might have been doing on her sleepovers. I dismissed it, though. I remembered being a curious young girl at her age and the things my friends and I did. Gay or straight, I am sure she was experimenting with her girl friends.

“Okay, I guess we can have a sleepover,” I finally told her.

Chris wrapped her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m gonna go change.” She jumped up and ran to her room. A few minutes later she came back wearing a tee shirt she’d stolen from me. She climbed up on the couch folding her bare legs under herself and letting the shirt ride up slightly. I could not help but look, seeing that she was wearing a pair of pink cotton panties.

We watched television for a while longer before Chris became impatient and dragged me off to my room. I changed into my own extra-long tee shirt. I didn’t bother going in the bathroom. I’d never been ashamed of my body in front of her, and it had translated into Chris not being ashamed of hers.

I turned off the light and lay down in bed. Chris was already under the covers. She kissed me on the cheek and rolled on her side, turning her back to me. I lay there staring up at the ceiling feeling her warmth next to me, and I have to admit it was quite nice.

Before long, Chris turned on her other side and draped her arm over my belly. I wrapped my arm around her and stroked her back absently while I lay there, enjoying the closeness I shared with her.

Chris’ little hand on my belly distracted me, and I faltered in stroking her. I looked down at my little girl, just barely able to make out her form in the darkness. I sighed and returned to my thoughts. It felt nice being stroked this way.

As I felt her hand moving slowly down my belly, I tensed. My clit tingled, and I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. I had never felt that way with Chris before, but something about this made me nervous.

I suppose she had been building her courage. Chris began tugging at my shirt until my panties were exposed and she could slip her hand under my shirt to rub the bare skin of my belly. Uncomfortable does not cover what I felt then. My mouth went dry. I swallowed hard and tried to deny the building sexual excitement I was feeling.

Stop her! I screamed in my mind when I felt her pinkie finger slip under the waistband of my underwear. It felt so good, though — being touched like this. I felt like I was being seduced, slowly, gently. I had to admit, I loved it, but it was wrong and I had to stop her.

I couldn’t stop her. No matter how much I wanted to, I couldn’t say anything. My curiosity had the better of me and I had to see where it was that my little girl was going with this.

I thought she might have been working her way down to my sex. I half expected her hand to rub over my pubic hair. It did not. In a sudden movement she reached up and cupped her hand around my breast. My blood ran cold and I gasped, “What are you doing?”

She stopped and moved her hand away. No wait, don’t stop, I pleaded silently.

“I love you, Mom,” she whispered. Her hand moved slowly around my belly button. I was breathing quick and shallow. The nipple of the breast she had cradled in her little hand was so hard that it pushed against my shirt uncomfortably.

Slowly, Chris slid her hand back up my chest and wrapped her fingers around my breast. I trembled with the shame of it, feeling tears welling up in my eyes, but no matter how wrong it was, I didn’t want to stop my daughter from continuing this seduction. But I had to.

“Little girls aren’t suppose to touch their moms this way,” I finally said with a trembling voice.

“Why not?” Her question was sincere.

“For one thing, I could get into trouble. But it’s just wrong, I’m your mom.”

“I won’t tell. I thought your first time was suppose to be someone you loved. I love you more than anyone else, so I want it to be with you,” she said, not pulling her hand away this time.

I was trying to move my arm to push her hand away, but I couldn’t. Instead I found myself reaching down and cupping her bottom with my hand. I wasn’t just letting her do this, now I was participating in it.

Chris drew closer to me, reaching across my chest and stroking my other breast. She ran her fingers over my nipples — hardening them, much to my embarrassment.

For all of the shame, though, I wasn’t stopping her. For as much as I knew this just had to be wrong, I could not stop her. I slipped my hand under her shirt and stroked her bottom, now only separated from her by a thin layer of cotton.

Chris sighed and pushed hard against my side. She moved her hand from my breast and down my belly until it rested on my panties, just above my mound. My sex was aching now. As much as I hated myself for it, I wanted her to touch me.

As she pressed against me, I felt her rocking. Feeling my little girl masturbating against my body sent a sudden shock of excitement through me. I found myself tensing, pressing into her crotch with each thrust of her hips.

“Baby, don’t make me do this,” I whispered.

“You want to stop?” she asked, sounding desperate.

I swallowed hard and looked at her for a long time, so long that she moved her hand away. Tears streamed down my face. “No, I don’t,” I said, just above a whisper.

No sooner than the words left my lips than her hand was back under my tee shirt and she was pushing it under the waist band of my panties. Her hand moved across my pubic hair and she folded her fingers around my mound.

I had not been touched by another person in years, but I don’t think I’d ever been this hot. I don’t remember any touch feeling so electric as hers did. There was something about my little girl cupping my sex that drove my desires like no one else ever could have. Her fingers spread around my clit, then she closed them back together as she slid them into my hole.

Was I gay? Was this what I’d always wanted? A woman? But she wasn’t a woman. She was my daughter, a child. A girl who was so young she didn’t even need a training bra. Could that have been it? Was it because she was a little girl?

Too many questions, when all I wanted was to feel more of her touch.

My head cleared a little when I felt her tugging at my panties. Instinctively, I lifted up so she could pull them off. She sat up and suddenly felt too far from me as she pulled my underwear off and threw them over me to the floor. Chris did not hesitate to take her own underthings off and toss them next to mine.

She crawled on top of me. She seemed to know what she was doing. She was clearly skilled in the art of seduction — but how? I wondered. How could a twelve-year-old girl know how to seduce a grown woman, not to mention her own mother?

Chris leaned in and pressed her lips against mine. She reached into my mouth with her small tongue and I closed my eyes, sinking into the kiss. God, it was erotic, feeling her small body on my own, feeling her lips against mine.

She reached down and pulled at my shirt, tugging it up until I had to move to get it off. I then slipped her top off, wanting to see her nakedness. I reached out and stroked her chest, playing with her nipples. I was too shocked by what was going on to be much of a lover. Not that I was skilled anyway, I simply didn’t have the experience — but I tried to touch her the way I liked to be touched. I ran my hands down her sides and around her hips to hold her bottom as she straddled my waist.

“Mommy,” Chris said. She was about to confess something she thought would make me upset, it was the only time she ever called me Mommy. “Don’t be mad, but I didn’t do homework at Fiona’s. She let me practice what I’d do on her. She told me what felt good and how to do stuff. She knows about sex stuff.”

“Did you, now?” I asked. She had practiced this. I wondered how long she’d been planning it, building me up to it. Then the memory of shaving her occurred to me. Had that been a part of this plan? Did she have me help shave her legs to plant some kind of seed?

“You’re not mad, are you?” she asked me quite sincerely.

“Of course not.” I wrapped my arms around my little girl and held her close, comforting her.

Finally she sat back up and began to rub my breasts. I was on fire for my daughter, hardly able to believe what it was that I was doing. Chris lay down and pushed herself between my legs. She hesitated only for a minute before leaning in and surrounding my clit with her little lips.

I gasped, hardly able to believe the expert attention she was giving to my sex. Where had she learned all of this? She suckled me, lapped at me and finally slid three of her fingers inside, causing me to moan loudly.

I writhed on the bed. I ached for her touch. Each plunge of her fingers sent waves through me. Finally in a single burst of orgasm I arched my back and screamed, pulling her closer, yearning for more of her hands and mouth.

When it subsided, I lay on the bed breathing deeply, my head spinning slightly and my skin tingly. I wanted to give my little girl this sensation. I wanted to make her feel what I’d felt.

Slowly I got up and eased the child onto her back, where I began planting little kisses up and down her body. I was unsure about this. I’d never done any such thing. I had wondered about it, like anyone else would, but never did anything to make it happen. I never thought for a moment that if I was with another female, it would it be my twelve-year-old daughter.

I’m sure I was far more nervous than my little girl. Slowly I worked my way along her body and down between her legs. I positioned myself so that I could cover her swollen sex with my mouth.

I sucked her clit into my mouth and ran my tongue across it. Chris moaned and twitched with each lick. I slid my pinky into her body and began moving it in and out to the rhythm of my lapping.

My daughter was breathing hard, clutching the blankets, my shoulders, my hair. She had lifted her legs slightly, making it easier for me to reach her vulva. I moved faster, adding more pressure with my tongue. Chris was moaning and gasping and finally she slammed her hands and feet to the bed, pushing her sex hard toward my face. “Oh!” she cried out. “Mom!”

My little girl relaxed to the bed once her orgasm had subsided. I crawled up to lie next to her, wrapping my arms around her and holding her tightly to me. I loved my little girl so deeply, I wanted to cradle her like this forever.

“My first time was with the prettiest girl in the world,” she whispered.

“When you practiced with Fiona?”

“That didn’t count, it was just practice. You’re my first.”

I closed my eyes and let myself drift at the edge of sleep. I thought I should feel ashamed, but I did not. I felt nothing but my love for my daughter.

I had never thought of myself as gay, and certainly never as a pedophile, yet this seemed so right to me. Whatever my little girl had originally set out to do, I don’t really know. What I do know is that the experience changed me. Perhaps I’m not gay, I don’t really feel an attraction to any women, but I feel an attraction to my little girl. This adventure has caused me to redefine myself a bit. I may or may not be a pedophile or a lesbian, but I am in love with my daughter, and that was all I really needed to understand.

The End

By Bad Fred

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in December 2009 }

“I wonder if she’s into girls?” I asked, looking down from the bleachers at the track team practicing, and at one particular girl.

“Who?” Hailey responded without looking, just lying back staring up into the sky.

“The new girl. I think her name is Anne.”

“I dunno. Do you like her?” Hailey asked, leaning forward to look. “She is kind of cute, I guess.”

“She’s more than cute.” She was. She had soft peaches and cream skin. Her black hair was long and tied back into a pony tail, with a few unruly strands falling down her face. She had big, dark doe eyes.

“Her nose is too big,” Hailey said. “Totally not my type. She’s fine for you, though, I guess.” She leaned back and resumed her empty upward gaze.

“What? ‘Fine for me.’ Seriously? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way,” she said, flatly.

“I’m going to talk to her.”

“I hope you do. It would be nice to see you hit on someone besides me for once.”

I let her comment go. It was easy to fight with Hailey, and never worth it. Plus, it was pretty much true. I’d wanted to sleep with her for a very long time. I wasn’t ‘her type’, she always said.

Anne bent down in the starting block, rubbing the asphalt where her knees would go, then she leaned forward with her butt in the air. Her body was lean and athletic. The other girls lined up next to her.

CRACK! The starting gun went off. The girls took off. It was a two-hundred meter race, and over quickly. Anne came in third. Hailey sat up to watch the finish.

“Well, she’s fast enough,” she said, “I wonder if she’ll make the team.”

“I’m sure she will.”

“Heh. She’s already your hero. How long am I going to be hearing about this one?”

I let that comment go as well. I just watched Anne rubbing down her muscles and catching her breath.

“You’re making one big mistake,” Hailey commented after a few seconds.

“What?”

“You should pick someone who can’t outrun you. Then you’ll have more of a chance.”

“Ha! Very fucking funny.”

“Now that you mention it, I guess she is kinda cute. I can see getting with her.”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“What? You get all wet for a girl, and suddenly she is off limits to everyone?”

“Not everyone, just you! You get all the pretty girls. Give me a chance with this one.”

Hailey just watched Anne for a bit, then she said, “Let’s make a game out of it. Let’s see who can get her first.”

“What? We both hit on her?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

I sighed. I really didn’t have a chance against Hailey. She was tall and slender, with long, flowing brown hair. She had a great chest, which she was showing off today with a low-cut green top. I’d pick her over me.

“Okay… what does the winner get?” I asked.

“Well, her, obviously.”

I thought for a second. “Let me talk to her first,” I said, “So at least I have a chance.”

“Sure. Why not.”

It still wasn’t a fair game. “How ’bout one more thing to make it interesting?”

“What?”

I looked over at her and gave her a wicked grin. “If I win, I get her… then I get you.”

She laughed. “You never give up. Even crushing out on this other girl, you still want me.”

I shrugged my shoulders. She had a point. Sometimes my desire for her got ridiculous, but then, if I could somehow get them both… Well, why not?

She thought about it. “All right,” she said finally, “It’s a deal. I’ll stay away from her until the end of today. Then she’s fair game. If you get her into bed before me…” She let her voice trail off. Then she sat up, gave me an intense look, and whispered into my ear, “…I’ll fuck the hell out of you.”

I smiled. I bit the end of my tongue.

By now Anne was standing with a few of her teammates talking. The coach blew a whistle, and they ran off toward the locker room. I quickly went after her. Somehow, some way, I had to win this.

I found her outside of the locker room bent over a water fountain. She was wearing tight cotton gym shorts and a white T-shirt. Sweat still glistened on her. A couple of her teammates were farther down the hall talking.

“Hi… Your name is Anne, right?”

She turned and looked at me quizzically, giving me an awkward half smile. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi. I’m Katey.”

“Well, pleased to meet you, Katey.” She held out her hand. Her fingers were long and delicate, and she had blue nail polish. I took it and gave it a little shake. “So, uh… were you just introducing yourself?” she asked.

I realized I was still holding her hand. I gave her a big, stupid smile, but didn’t let go. “I really wanted to meet you.”

“Well, now you’ve met me. Can I have my hand back?”

“Sure.” I let go, blushing.

“So, anyway,” she went on, “Nice to meet you. See you around.” She turned around and began to walk toward her friends.

“Anne,” I said.

“Yeah?” She turned back to me in one graceful motion. Her ponytail sort of swung around.

This was the part where I normally fumbled around and either crept away, or just muttered something embarrassing. The stakes were higher this time. I went for broke. “I think you’re beautiful,” I said, smiling.

Her eyes got really big. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So… uh…”

“Hey, Anne!” one of her teammates shouted, “We’re heading in. You gonna take a shower?”

“I’ll be right there!” she shouted back. She looked at me, studying me up and down. She smiled. I smiled back. “Look, I gotta go,” she said, “I think I’d like to see you later, though. What lunch period do you have?”

“Second. Same as you.”

“Cool. I’ll see you at lunch then? Tomorrow?”

“Yes. Yes, you will.”

She ran off and went into the locker room. I got a huge smile on my face. That went very well. Of course, by lunch tomorrow, Hailey would be in the game.

*****

I woke the next morning and decided to dress as pretty as I could. I wore a little light-blue cotton skirt that went down mid-thigh and a yellow T-shirt. I looked in the mirror. My sandy blond hair was cropped short. I was pale and covered with freckles. My eyes looked nice at least, a light blue.

I stood and turned around, observing my plain, average body. My ass was tiny, and my arms and legs were too thin. I had no tits to speak of. In this thin shirt, though, my nipples would pop out a bit when I was excited. I expected they would do so when I was with Anne.

Finally, I put on a bit of makeup, some soft pink lip gloss, and violet eye shadow. It was the best I could do. I hoped that it would be enough.

*****

Later that day, I looked for her at lunch. She came in with some of her teammates and they took a corner table. She was saving the seat next to her for someone. For me?

I approached. “Hi Anne,” I said.

“Oh, hi, Katey.” She smiled and motioned for me to sit down in the chair next to her. I did. A few more team members filtered in and grabbed chairs. The table was a tight fit.

“Who is she?” one of the girls asked motioning to me.

“My friend Katey,” Anne responded.

I was introduced to everyone. The tall blond girl was Bethany. The little, short muscular girl was Linda. I couldn’t keep the rest of them straight. The girl sitting next to me, opposite Anne, kept bumping me with her elbow, but otherwise ignored me.

“Are you going to try out for the team?” Linda asked me.

“No,” I said.

“She’s just my friend, Linda. It’s fine if she sits here, right?”

“I guess.” Everyone took out their lunches and ate.

Anne looked at me. “How are you?” she asked. She had dressed pretty sexy, with a little rose skirt and tight baby blue T-shirt.

I let my leg rub against hers a bit. She didn’t seem to mind. “I’m fine,” I responded. I ate quietly, glancing over at her occasionally. When I did, she smiled.

That was when Hailey strutted into the lunchroom, looking around. She was wearing an amazing little red sundress that was very low cut. She noticed us, and came over.

“Hi, Katey,” she said, “Are these your new friends?”

“Uh… hi, Hailey. This is my friend Anne. Anne, this is Hailey.” Hailey reached out and took Anne’s hand.

Anne said, “Hello.” She gave Hailey an awkward and curious look.

There wasn’t any more room at the table, but Hailey went ahead and grabbed a chair and pulled it up. She placed it so she could lean in between Anne and I. Then she sat down, getting close to both of us.

“So, Anne,” Hailey asked, “Where did you move from? How do you like it here?”

“Seattle, and I like it fine.”

“Cool. I saw you practicing yesterday. You looked really good. I mean, really, really good.”

Anne got a big smile on her face. So did Hailey.

Hailey leaned forward, and grabbed one of my unopened milk containers. “Are you going to drink this?” she asked.

“No,” I responded.

I noticed that she had rubbed herself against Anne. Anne was leaning back in her chair, with a curious little grin on her face. She just looked ahead, and was breathing kind of deeply. It was obvious that Hailey’s attention was turning her on. Even her teammates started to notice.

“So, Anne,” Hailey said while drinking my milk, “You wanna hang out after school?”

“With you two?” she asked, looking over at me.

“No,” Hailey said, in a serious tone, “Just me.”

Bethany interrupted, “Anne, you know she’s a dyke, right?”

Anne smiled, “Yeah, I figured that out.” She looked at Hailey. She was obviously staring at her tits.

Bethany sort of swallowed and said, “Oh.” Anne ignored her.

Hailey pulled out a scrap of paper and scribbled down her phone number and said, “Here, call me after school and we’ll hook up.”

Anne smiled. She took it and put it in her bag. Then Hailey leaned in and gave her a little kiss on the cheek. Anne’s eyes got really big. Next Hailey popped up out of her chair. She turned gracefully, her dress swirling around, and she strutted off.

Anne exhaled. The rest of her teammates looked dumbstruck. I sat frozen, my heart beating in sad, solemn thumps. I wondered if girls like Anne and Hailey were just out of my league.

“Wow,” Anne muttered. “She’s… not very shy, is she?”

“That’s Hailey,” I said, feeling miserable.

Anne seemed to notice me again. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“Not really.”

“Why?”

“She does this a lot.”

“What?”

I looked over at her. Her eyes were dark and lovely, like little mysterious pools. “She gets the girls I like.”

The bell rang.

*****

Later, Anne found me between classes.

“Katey!” she said from behind me, down the hall, “I want to talk to you.” She ran, almost effortlessly catching up with me.

“Hi, Anne.”

“Look,” she said, her breathing just a bit heavy, “Can you give this back to Hailey for me, and tell her I’m not interested?” She handed me the paper with Hailey’s phone number.

“Okay,” I said. I took the paper. I looked at her. She stood there, biting her bottom lip, as if waiting for something. “You don’t like her?” I asked.

“Yeah, well… look, I’m new at this. I haven’t really dated anyone before, especially not a girl, so I’m not really sure… well…” She kind of stood up on the balls of her feet. She looked uncomfortable. “I mean… yeah, she’s hot,” she went on, “But… I don’t know. She seems too… well, look, I want someone who is really sweet and kind… and pretty.” She looked at me intensely.

I started to smile, feeling wonderful. “Say, Anne,” I said, taking her hand, “I know of a girl who really likes you a lot.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I looked down at her little rose skirt. She looked down at my chest. My nipples were pointy and obvious. I didn’t let go of her hand.

She actually giggled. “So, who is she?” she asked.

I looked into her eyes and tried to give her a deep, seductive look, but I couldn’t. I felt too happy. So I gave her a big, stupid grin instead. “Me.”

She squeezed my hand and leaned close to me. I kissed her cheek, a small one. People were looking at us, muttering things under their breath. I ignored them. I wrapped my arms around Anne and held her close.

*****

Hailey was in my seventh period chemistry class. When I entered, I walked by her desk and dropped the scrap of paper down. “She said to tell you that she’s not interested,” I said. I gave her a knowing smile.

“No fucking way!” she said. She sat there, looking at the paper, with her mouth open.

As I passed, I bent down to her ear. I whispered, “She’s coming over to my house after school.”

I ran my finger down Hailey’s arm, and sauntered back to my desk.

Hailey looked over her shoulder at me. She just stared for a bit. She actually looked a little sad.

*****

Anne came over after school. My parents weren’t home.

As soon as she came through the door she said, “Look, I’m really nervous, so you have to be nice to me.”

I smiled, took her hand and led her to the couch. “It’s fine, Anne. Look, we can just talk for a while, okay? Then maybe we can make out a bit. You don’t have to do anything more, not unless you want to.”

We sat down. I put my arm around her and she snuggled close to me. “How long have you liked girls?” she asked.

“Oh, pretty much forever.” I gave her a little kiss on the cheek. She tensed up, then smiled. “How about you?” I asked, “How long have you been interested?”

“Uh, well, I guess just recently. I mean… I knew I didn’t like boys. But I’ve been looking at girls lately and getting really turned on.”

I ran my finger down her arm and looked into her eyes. “I know how you feel.”

She sat kind of awkwardly, leaning against me and looking down at her feet.

I let a few seconds pass, then I said, “Okay, talking was nice. Let’s kiss.”

She got a huge smile on her face, but kept looking down. I took her chin and gently turned her face to mine. Her lips parted and she exhaled.

I kissed her. We closed our eyes. I kissed her again. We turned to each other, embracing. I felt my nipples get hard, rubbing against her through my shirt. I could feel her heart beating. I slipped my tongue into her mouth. She pressed her lips against mine, and let my tongue explore. Then we separated, just a bit, and we looked at each other.

“That was really nice,” she said.

“Yeah,” I responded.

We kissed again, this time she pressed her tongue into my mouth. It was soft and wet. There was a knock on the door.

“Ignore it,” I said and kept kissing her.

Whoever it was knocked again, more insistently. We kept kissing. Anne had her eyes closed, her arms around me, and her lips pressed tightly to mine. We breathed one another’s breath.

The knocking got louder. “Fuck this,” I said, and went to answer it.

When I opened the door, Hailey was standing there in her red dress. Her arms were crossed. “The game’s still on,” she said.

“This isn’t cool, Hailey,” I said as she strutted in.

She went to the center of the room like she owned the place. “Hi, Anne,” she said.

“Hi, Hailey.”

Hailey just stood there, leering at Anne. She began to unbutton her dress.

“What the fuck, Hailey?” I said. She kept undoing her buttons, all of them. She let her dress fall to the floor, around her legs. Her panties were sheer and red. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

“New rule,” she said to me, “Whoever makes her come first wins.”

“What?” Anne gasped out.

“We had a game to see who could get you into bed first, sweetie,” Hailey answered, “Katey did much better than I expected. Now we’re going to see which of us can make you come.”

Anne looked at me, panicked. Hailey went to her and took both her hands, pulling her up. Anne stood. Hailey took her into her arms and kissed her. Anne let out a long sigh, but she let it happen.

Then Hailey pushed her back down on the couch, and dropped down between her legs. She pushed her skirt up and kissed her thighs.

“Hailey,” I said, “This is her first time. Go easy on her.”

Hailey grabbed Anne’s panties, tugging on them. Anne arched her hips up. Hailey pulled them down, and when they got down around her ankles, Anne kicked them aside.

I sat next to Anne and put my arm around her. She was breathing heavily, practically panting. I kissed her and said, “Anne, I’m sorry. I really do like you. This whole contest was Hailey’s idea.”

She let out a long moan. Hailey was running her index finger up and down her pussy.

“Hailey!” I said, “Go slow with her, please.”

Anne looked over at me and said, “I d-don’t think I mind so much.” A wave of pleasure hit her, and she closed her eyes. Hailey stroked her pussy. Anne moaned, her face transfixed in pleasure.

I dropped down to the floor and nudged Hailey aside. “It’s my house,” I said, “I get to go first.”

“Fine. We switch off every two minutes.” She grabbed her phone, pressing buttons. “Go… now!”

I grasped Anne’s knees. She spread her legs wide and lay back. I looked at her lovely pussy, with its pink lips and delicate halo of black down. I reached in and spread it open. I could see a light flow of juice gathering around her hole. I leaned in and tasted her. A huge smile crossed my face. Her pussy was heavenly.

Just as I started to get busy, I felt Hailey drop down behind me and push my skirt up, rubbing my ass. Then I felt my panties come down. I adjusted my knees so she could pull them off.

I spread my legs a bit. I couldn’t believe it was happening.

There was a loud slurping sound. Something wet probed my hole. I closed my eyes and moaned. I had been waiting literally years for this moment. Hailey was eating my pussy!

I looked up at Anne, then wrapped my mouth tightly around her clit. We both moaned. We both gripped tightly. I held her legs. She grabbed my hair.

I felt Hailey’s tongue push lower, touching my clit. “Oh, fuck, Hailey, that feels so good,” I said.

“This is so amazing,” Anne muttered, before closing her eyes and lying back with her mouth agape.

I felt Hailey’s tongue enter my hole again, pressing in deeply. I felt her fingers run up and down, caressing my clit. I closed my eyes and started panting. Hailey got a steady rhythm, tonguing and rubbing me. I gasped. I moaned. I squeezed Anne tight and just tried to breathe. My heart hammered in my chest. My pussy tingled. My whole body tingled. I realized, however, that in my pleasure, I was neglecting Anne.

The timer went off. I had figured out her trick too late.

“My turn!” she said. She pushed me aside and dove in. I went behind her, rubbing her ass and grabbing her panties.

“Sorry, sweetie, that’s off limits,” she said.

“No fair!”

“I’m not letting you mess up my concentration. I’m going to win this game!” Then she ignored me, pressing her mouth tight against Anne’s pussy.

I got up on the couch and put my arms around Anne. She began to squirm and moan. Her mouth was open. I kissed her deeply, pressing my tongue between her lips. Then I kissed her neck. I kissed her eyes. I pulled her T-shirt off, and licked at her little pink nipples.

She stroked my face, and looked at me with dazed eyes. “That feels great,” she said, “But isn’t it only helping her?”

I guess it was, but when I saw the pleasure on her face, I didn’t care. I wrapped my mouth around her nipple and gazed into her eyes.

Two more minutes passed. Anne didn’t come.

I pushed Hailey aside, and went back in.

She got behind me and stroked my pussy. “Aren’t you going to stop me this time?” she asked.

I shook my head and said, “No.”

She got busy on my pussy. I relaxed and concentrated as much as I could. I spread Anne open again, and licked. I explored with my tongue, finding her clit.

Soon, however, the pleasure got to be too much; Hailey was just so good. My mouth opened wide. I moaned. My body began to writhe. Hailey rolled over onto her back, under me. I pressed my hips down, my clit into her mouth. Her tongue! She reached up and fingered my hole, pumping me. My moaning got deeper. My body started reacting all on its own.

I felt Anne stroking my hair. “This is so amazing,” she said, “I want to watch you come.”

My pleasure hit some sort of plateau. “Oh, fuck!” I heard myself groan out. I felt a familiar pressure build up inside me. Hailey was fingering me in that perfect spot. I was going to squirt.

It happened. My whole body shook at once. I felt my pussy contract, sending a single, unimaginable shock of pleasure across me. I felt the fluid spray out, a feeling of perfect release.

I fell forward, resting my head on Anne’s lap. She stroked me, pulled my face up to hers and gave me a deep kiss.

I heard Hailey laughing. I turned to her. There was a long streak of pussy juice going down her torso. Her smile was huge. “That was so fucking hot,” she said, “Why didn’t you tell me you could do that?”

“You never asked. Plus, it only happens sometimes.”

She laughed again. “Anne,” she said, “You want to come down here and lick Katey’s pussy juice off my tits.”

“What?” she asked.

“Come lick me clean. You’ll love it. I promise.”

Anne looked undecided.

“Just give it a taste, sweetie,” Hailey said.

I sat back on the couch, my heart still hammering, my body still twitching. Anne went to Hailey. She licked slowly, tentatively, taking in the flavor. She must have liked it. Her eyes closed as she continued to lick, tasting me on Hailey’s bare skin.

The timer went off. They kissed, and Anne got back on the couch, next to me, and spread herself out.

However, Hailey didn’t go between her legs. She went between mine and gave my pussy a gentle lick. “You taste so fucking good,” she said, smiling.

“You really do,” Anne whispered. She kissed my neck.

Then Hailey took her phone and shut off the timer. She got up on the couch on the other side of Anne and kissed her.

“Katey, dear,” Hailey said.

“Yes?”

“My mouth is tired. Go ahead and finish her off.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you want to win?”

She laughed. “I’m pretty sure you just did win, sweetie.”

I laughed too. I did feel like I had won something.

Anne looked back and forth at us, confused. I kissed her sweet face. I dropped down between her legs and ate her, giving my full attention. Hailey kissed her and licked her tits. Soon Anne came hard, crying out in ecstasy.

I kept licking and sucking. She grabbed my head and muttered, “Oh, God.” I kept licking. I sucked and probed. She began to breathe in and out rhythmically. I thought she might come again.

I was right. “Oh, fuck yes,” she cried out. Her body shuddered. “Oh, oh, oh!”

When her orgasm passed, she started giggling. She curled up and rolled against Hailey, kissing her. I gave her one more long, gentle lick.

“That was so sweet,” I said, coming up. My face was covered with her pussy juice.

Anne and Hailey looked at each other. They smiled. They licked my face clean. Then we clung to each other, laughing with delight.

“Now it’s my turn,” Hailey said, “Who wants to eat me?”

I looked at Anne. She looked at me. “Let’s take turns,” I said.

We went down together. We each had two goes at her, licking and sucking. We licked each other’s face between rounds, kissing deeply. Hailey finally came for Anne, moaning, shuddering, and kicking out her legs.

*****

“So,” Hailey said, “Technically, you won the game on all counts.”

“Yeah,” I said. I was curled up on the couch with Anne in my arms. Hailey was across from us in a chair. We were all dressed again.

“So,” Hailey said, “I guess you get to fuck me now, except that has pretty much already happened.”

“Huh?” asked Anne.

I smiled. “I hope this doesn’t bother you, sweetie, but part of the game was that if I got you first, Hailey would finally fuck me.”

“Oh.”

“So,” Hailey went on, “What do you want for your victory?”

“Well,” I said, feeling pleased, “First off, I want Anne to be my girlfriend. Does that sound good, Anne?”

She looked surprised. “Oh yes!” she exclaimed.

“But,” I went on, “I still want to fuck Hailey. In fact, I want both of us to fuck Hailey, from time to time, when we’re all in the mood. Does that sound good, Hailey?”

“I can live with that,” Hailey said, with a big smile, “As long as the ‘all in the mood’ happens, like, all the fucking time!”

“How about you, Anne?” I asked.

She looked back and forth between the two of us. “That would be great,” she said, “That would be completely, amazingly, wonderful.”

“All right then, it’s all settled.”

I kissed Anne’s sweet mouth. Hailey watched, a quiet smile on her lips.

The End

By Misty Meadow

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in January 2017 }

In January a few years ago, a notice in the Daily Telegraph announced the sale of a small collection of paintings by a minor gallery located off Charing Cross Road in London. The painter wished to remain anonymous, for obvious reasons.

At first glance each painting appeared to be of a prepubescent girl, naked or nearly so, but closer examination revealed that they were all paintings of photographs. The white edge of the photograph was depicted together with the four push pins holding it to a surface and the electronic date/time stamp in the bottom left hand corner could easily be read.

The pictures had been taken at roughly one month intervals over the previous year. The girl was always posed in such a way as to reveal her vagina, though not in a deliberately lewd way. Nevertheless, she managed to radiate both innocence and sexuality.

The earliest picture showed her sitting at the bottom of a flight of stairs dressed in nothing more than a pair of white cotton knickers. She had pulled the waist of the knickers out and was peering down inside, an expression of intense curiosity on her angelic face.

The next was a full frontal nude, hiding nothing and she held a vividly coloured parakeet on her hand. The lighting was all directed at the bird, leaving her body in partial shade and one could argue that it was a picture of a bird, the girl being incidental, allowing one to gaze at her at length, pretending to be a lover of birds rather than little girls.

In a later picture, she was standing knee deep in a lake, again in white knickers which in their wetness clung tightly to her body, revealing the exact shape of her vagina or, one wondered, had they become so translucent that one was actually looking at the real thing?

All the remaining pictures showed her naked, playing a violin or sitting cross legged reading a book, and the last one showed her sitting at a kitchen table, legs carelessly spread, her head turned sideways, her lips open, her hand holding a up banana an inch from her lips, a symbolism lost on few.

All the paintings were signed, “Mummy.”

Word soon spread that it was an exhibition of child pornography. In the UK, the legal definition includes this phrase: “illegal to take, make, distribute, show or possess an indecent photograph or pseudo-photograph of someone under the age of 18.” An argument ensued in the press about what constituted a pseudo-photograph. The usual interpretation was a computer image. Did the law include paintings? Could a painting of a photograph be porn? Would a photo of a painting of a photo be illegal? Apparently not, because the papers were printing them.

The gallery forbade photography, but with iPhones being ubiquitous, most visitors took pictures surreptitiously and soon they were available in all the tabloids.

What did “indecent” actually mean? Was the gallery owner in trouble? The Crown Prosecution Service attempted to extract the name of the artist from him, but all he was able to reveal was the name of the law firm that actually handled the sales, and they weren’t talking.

The terms of sale were unusual. Upon arrival, viewers were given a card with a phone number on it, nothing more. Each painting was priced at five thousand pounds, no haggling, take it or leave it, to be sold on a first come – first served basis. A buyer could call the law firm from right there in the gallery and close the sale immediately.

On the first day, only three were sold, seven the next day, and the remainder went on the third day just minutes after the gallery opened. They would all remain on the gallery walls until the end of the month and buyers could collect them when the exhibition closed.

For the next few weeks, there was a line down the street to get in and see this new sensation. Word had clearly got out. When the exhibition closed, buyers wearing sunglasses and hats pulled low could be seen leaving, carrying their paintings, concealed by bubble wrap, under their arms, smug smiles on their faces.

A large sign in the gallery foyer announced that there would be another exhibition by the same artist at the same time next year. People tried to make reservations but they were told just to come and get in line.

The paintings were titled “Mummy’s Little Girl: No. 1,” “Mummy’s Little Girl: No. 2,” etc., through number 12. Who was she? She certainly looked far from unhappy about being photographed in such revealing poses, indeed, the eager smile on her lovely face indicated she was having a great time.

The little girl was me. I was just ten years old.

My name is Myfanwy, but Mum calls me Muffin. We live in a cottage just outside a small village in Snowdonia in North Wales. The nearest neighbours are a quarter of a mile away, so we have plenty of privacy.

Mum made a nice living that year, sixty grand less commission being much more than she’d ever earned from her art before, even though her technique was excellent. She lit her subjects like Carravagio, painted textures like the Dutch masters, and her flesh tones seemed as if they might feel warm to the touch. The only subject she painted was me.

She was a lesbian paedophile. I knew because she told me. “I’m a lover of little girls,” she said, when I was about six.

“Everyone loves kids,” I pointed out.

“Yes, but I love to hug and kiss and fondle you in a special way. You excite me.”

I didn’t see how hugging her daughter merited a special name like ‘paedophile’. After all, didn’t all mummies hug their kids? Well, most of them do, but I found out later that not all of them take showers with their little girls and wash them all over and pay special attention to their little cunnies, and not all little girls are utterly fascinated by their mum’s pussies, to the extent that they caress them and marvel as they grow moist to the touch.

She’d told me never to tell anyone about the fun stuff we did in the shower, so I thought it was just normal mum/daughter games until much later, in school, when we got the “inappropriate touching” lecture. So Mum was different from other mothers. Was I freaked out? Not a bit. Our fun thing was special and I didn’t want it to stop.

I wasn’t her victim. She didn’t make me do anything that I didn’t want to do, in fact I was usually the one who initiated things. We’d wrestle on the rug and I’d manage to sit on her face, or I’d lie on the couch, my head in her lap, reaching up to caress her small but firm tits, or I’d say, “I want to make love, Mum.” She’d smile and take my hand, and we’d drift into her bedroom and undress each other.

By the age of eight, in the shower, I’d progressed from merely letting her finger my cunt to kneeling before her and exploring her pink cavern with my tongue. I loved it all. The smell and taste of her cunt made my head spin. If it made her happy, I wanted to do it. One time she was lying in the tub when I came into the bathroom and she asked me to step in with my feet either side of her head and feed her my pussy. So I squatted down onto her face and she licked me to a lovely orgasm.

A couple of times a week, usually Saturday mornings when I was not at school, we’d have a photo session. We’d dream up new ideas, new ways for me to display my body erotically while maintaining a veneer of innocence. It was tremendously exciting to undress while she watched me, then pose for her and the camera, knowing that one day, dozens, maybe hundreds of people would look the the resultant painting and be excited by it.

“Men are gonna like you,” Mum said one day. “Most paedophiles are men, although I know of a few women who would give anything just to see you with nothing on, showing off your darling little cunt like this. You may think that a ten-year-old girl can’t be all that sexy, not with your flat chest and narrow hips, but believe me, there is a huge number of people out there who are secretly into little girls, just like me, and I want them to have the exquisite pleasure of gazing on your naked body through the medium of my art.”

She’d look through the camera, framing the shot, and my cunt area would tingle with excitement, with the naughtiness of showing off my private parts. I loved it, the undressing, the posing, the adoring look on Mum’s face as she photographed me.

I was now ten, but as yet there were no signs of approaching puberty. “I don’t want you to grow up, Muffin,” Mum said. “I want you to remain a little girl forever.” So I let her take pictures of me in the most indecent poses I could think of, the more the merrier, so she’d at least have them after I became a grown woman.

*****

We started to assemble a collection for the next sale. The first one showed me wearing a suspender belt, white stockings, a wispy little see-through bra that concealed nothing and, of course, no knickers. I was sitting on a window sill, legs slightly parted, with the light behind me and it came out in soft focus, a new challenge for Mum to reproduce in oils, but she did a superb job. It was possible to see my cunny quite clearly.

“Don’t you think it’s time you started calling your cunny by a more grown up name?” she asked.

“Like what?”

“Pussy? Twat? Minge? Quim? How about ‘cunt’?”

I liked the sound of “cunt”. It had a nice lewd ring to it. I tried it out. “Cunt! Look at my cunt! Do you like my cunt? I know you want to touch my cunt!”

Mum laughed. “Yes, touch it and lick it. Come here, Muffin, and let your mummy make you happy.” Even though I was only ten, her tongue could light up my whole body.

The next picture was intended to be less provocative. It showed me pulling my knickers down. They’d got as far as mid-thigh when the camera flash went off. I was leaning slightly forward, tugging them down, looking straight into the camera lens with a dazzling smile on my face. But somehow, the presence of knickers made the whole scene more erotic than just my naked body.

“I love your knickers, my darling. I don’t know what looks sexier, you in your knickers or just naked.” I put my hand between her legs and fingered her cunt until she was dripping wet, then used my knickers to wipe her, then put them back on again. I had no problem wearing knickers soaked with her cunt juice. If I could happily lick and taste her, a few stains were no problem. It was kinda intimate.

The months rolled by and the collection was coming together nicely. Mum had taken a number of selfies of us, my face buried between her thighs, then hers between mine and I begged her to paint one of them, but she demurred, pointing out that all the other stuff she’d painted was borderline porn that she’d gotten away with, but a painting of me eating her pussy could never be passed off as art.

“We have to keep it classy,” she said. “If we cross a certain line, the authorities could close the gallery down and we’d be fucked. We have to maintain a delicate balance between pornography and art. We want to appeal to paedophiles in a way that’s acceptable to society as a whole. Usually, when people hear the words ‘kiddy porn’ or ‘paedophile’ they become outraged. There’s a side to this whole question that’s perfectly benign, harmless, and in our case, beneficial. I want to acquaint the public with the pure, beautiful aspect of child sexuality, but without running afoul of the law.”

By now, the previous year’s pictures had all been leaked to various sites on the Internet, spreading ever wider until they could be found practically anywhere. I rejoiced in my fame, secure in the knowledge that in this tiny conservative community in the Welsh mountains, it was unlikely than our neighbours would encounter them. If confronted, we could always claim, with suitable outrage, that it wasn’t me, just some other little girl who looked similar. Mum had taken the precaution of painting my eyes slightly bigger, with darker lashes and eyebrows, and a smaller nose.

“I’ll leave your lips just as they are,” she said. “Come and kiss me.” Our tongues met like excited puppies.

January arrived and it was time to open the new exhibition. Still just twelve paintings, they were slightly more lascivious than those of the previous year. One showed me squatting naked with my arms round Bandit, our border collie, as I whispered in his ear. Squats are always good for showing off a cunt, and though the main subject was the dog, one’s eyes were drawn irresistibly to my little girly slit. In another, I played a guitar. You’ll never see a fully dressed person playing a guitar with their knees together, and neither were mine, nor was I in any way dressed.

Such was the crowd outside the gallery in distant London that BBC television was broadcasting the gallery opening live. Some potential buyers had been camped out for days, guarding their places in the line and as the doors opened, a great cheer went up. Three men and a woman were injured in the crush to get in the door and we later learned that all twelve paintings were sold in minutes, as fast as the law firm could process the calls, despite the fact that Mum was now demanding ten thousand pounds for each one.

“You should’ve auctioned them,” I said to her when the broadcast ended.

“No, Muffin. No one would bid openly for them. Who’d wanna be labeled as a collector of child porn? It’s better this way. Those buyers must be dealers who’ll sell them off at a huge profit, but we don’t have to be greedy. We just want to make the world more appreciative of the beauty of a child’s body, to fight back against society’s oppression of benign girl lovers like me.”

Before the end of the day, the pictures started appearing on the Internet, all described as “art,” or at worst, “erotic art.” I felt immensely proud of myself and of my body. I looked at myself in the mirror, closely inspecting my nipples and my cunt, but there was still no sign of development.

*****

The next exhibition, a year later, was different. I was now twelve. My tits, imperceptible in January, had slowly grown over the course of the year until by December, they were distinct little mounds of soft flesh, and my cunt had begun to develop lips. A few wisps of pubic hair appeared, but Mum shaved them off. She was fighting my transformation into a woman as hard as she could. Though I still had the innocent, angelic face of a child, my body was a different story. I was sexy. I mean really fucking sexy. I could see it myself.

This year’s paintings were even more daring and showed me in improbable poses. A few were gymnastic in nature with my cunt always in perfect view as the centrepiece, my contortions serving only to display it more aggressively. The last picture showed me sprawled on a couch, my legs spread wide, one hand covering one tit, the other hiding my cunt — or was I masturbating? It depended on the viewer’s state of mind.

We were now probably over the line into the realm of child pornography.

“I’m hoping the last two years have opened people’s minds somewhat,” Mum said. “We haven’t even been questioned by the authorities, let alone prosecuted. I think we’re gonna get away with it again. At twenty thousand a clip, we’re looking at over two hundred K. And next year, well, we’re gonna be rich!”

How wrong she was. What she hadn’t realised was that you can take pictures of naked kids and call them family photos, but I wasn’t a kid any more. I was a pubescent girl, about to have her first period and I was just too fucking sexy to get away with it and I was still underage by four years.

Once again the BBC was at the gallery to report the opening, but a frighteningly large squad of police officers were first through the doors, which promptly closed behind them.

Two days later, disaster struck.

*****

The barman at the village pub called us to ask if we had called the police. “There were two coppers in here a minute ago, asking directions to your place.”

“FUCK!” called Mum, slamming the phone down. She ran into the den and began yanking all the connections from the back of the computer. She lifted it into my arms then pushed a handful of memory sticks into my pocket. “Go and throw that into the pool below the falls,” she said.

Tires crunched on the gravel as I staggered out of the back door and down to the path by the stream. A hundred yards downstream, a small waterfall fell into a deep pool. I tossed the computer in and followed it with the memory sticks. I got back to the cottage in time to see Mum in cuffs, being pushed into a police car.

“Call my sister,” she had time to yell. “She’ll come and take care of you.”

The nightmare had just begun.

*****

A week later, Mum was home again, out on bail, but she was no longer the anonymous painter that the art world had wondered about for two years. Her name was all over the papers, and they no longer printed the pictures, all of which had been confiscated from their owners by the police, as evidence. How their identities, or Mum’s for that matter, were uncovered wasn’t clear, but it probably involved some computer hacking by the authorities. There were a lot of pissed off art lovers out there, but they quickly formed into a group to support us and help pay our legal fees. All the money we’d made from the paintings was gone to pay the bail.

Months later, Mum went back to London for the trial which took several weeks, closely reported in the press. Our defense team made the case that a painting of a photograph fell outside the definition of child pornography. “If one took a video of a bank robbery, would that be a crime? The robbery, yes, but the video? No!” was the theme our barrister constantly hammered at. “Is a photograph of a counterfeit banknote a forgery? Of course not!”

Towards the end of the trial, I was summoned to testify and travelled down to London. At Euston Station, Mum hugged me so tightly it almost hurt.

“You’re a brave girl,” she said. “It won’t be easy to stand up in court and give evidence.”

“I can do it, Mum.”

*****

On November 2, 1960, a jury delivered a verdict of Not Guilty at the trial of Penguin Books, who’d published Lady Chatterley’s Lover earlier in the year. The jury had been required to read the book from end to end, and their decision that it was a work of art and not an obscenity had kicked off a social revolution that is remembered to this day.

Today in similar fashion, all three dozen of Mum’s paintings were displayed, one by one, for the jury’s consideration. While this was going on, I was sitting outside the courtroom, waiting to be called. A couple of hours went by and I was torn between anxiety about the outcome of the trial and pride that my naked body was once more on display for strangers to admire. They’re looking at me, I thought. They’re looking at my naked cunt. My tummy tingled with excitement.

Then my name was called.

“Were you a willing participant in the creation of your mother’s works of art?” asked our barrister. I must have looked so innocent, wearing a school uniform, the front of my blouse pulled flat, white ankle socks on my feet.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I replied, giving the jury my most dazzling smile. “My mum’s a brilliant artist and I wanted to give her a suitable subject to paint, a subject close to her heart. She really loves me a lot.”

“Did she ever force you to do anything you were reluctant to do?”

I let out a little derisive snort. “I loved being painted. I’m proud of what I did. I’m not one of those people who are ashamed of their own bodies.” A few of the spectators clapped. Others frowned.

Then I had to wait outside again as the closing arguments were made.

The jury retired. They were out for most of two days. I was in the courtroom for the verdict.

“Not guilty!” the jury foreman said firmly. The court erupted, a mixture of cheers and boos.

*****

Our customers have all had their paintings returned to them. We’ve been inundated with emails, cards and letters of congratulation from the huge number of people who supported us. But the money is gone, spent on legal fees. Just as painful was the loss of the hundreds of photographs that Mum had taken of me down the years. They lay at the bottom of the pool below the waterfall.

All we had were copies of the paintings that we’d downloaded from the Internet.

“Do you want to paint more pictures of me?” I asked Mum when we got back to Wales.

“Let’s get a look at you. Take your clothes off.”

I undressed for her and she looked at me, then sadly shook her head.

I turned and looked at myself in the mirror. A thirteen-year-old girl, who’d had her first period months earlier, looked back at me. She had fully formed breasts, small and firm, and curvy hips, and a little bush of blond hair was visible just above the lips of her vagina. I was now a woman, and I didn’t look at all innocent.

Mum and I looked at each other. We both knew it was hopeless. The little girl had gone. Any painting of me, however daring, would just be another piece of run-of-the-mill erotic art. We didn’t need to say anything.

“We gave them a run for their money, anyway,” Mum said, hugging me.

Had we achieved anything? Had we done anything to erode society’s horror of pictures of naked little girls? Had we opened a crack in society’s intolerance of child lovers? I’d like to think so, but don’t see any signs of it. Our pictures were not Lady Chatterley’s Lover, and there’s no revolution unfolding.

But I do have the satisfaction of knowing that three dozen happy customers are looking at me and, I hope, becoming aroused by my sexuality… and let’s not forget that all the pictures can still be found on the Internet.

And there’s my wonderful mother. Even if I can’t convey the innocence of a child, Mum still finds me desirable, and we are still lovers.

I lie in bed at night, next to my naked mother. We’ve just pleasured one another, and she is asleep. I’m thinking about the hundreds and thousands of men and women out there, their faces lit by the glow of their computer screens, looking at me, perhaps masturbating, and I bask in my own glow in the knowledge that I’ve made a lot of people very happy.

The End

By Thom

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in July 2008 }

I’m a really sound sleeper so it takes quite a bit to wake me up, but this particular night I had eaten something that disagreed with me and was sleeping fitfully, thank goodness, or I might have missed the opportunity of the special relationship I have with my ten-year-old daughter Pam.

When my husband is out of town on business, which is frequently, I sleep naked. It was pretty warm that night but not so warm that I felt the AC needed to be on. I just pulled the covers down off the bed and plopped down on the bottom sheet.

I was stirred out of my half sleep by a rhythmic movement on the bed. Opening my eyes, I saw my daughter lying at the foot of the bed, masturbating. Her head was just about at my crotch. It took me a bit to realize that she was smelling my pussy that I hadn’t washed since my morning shower. She was rubbing her smooth, not quite nubile mound with some material that I finally came to believe was a pair of my panties.

Watching her was really turning me on. I was simultaneously amazed and appalled that I was so aroused watching my own daughter touch herself intimately. What was I thinking would come of this? I had no inkling that I was attracted to little girls. The thought of being turned on by my own children would have never even entered my mind, but here I was and it wasn’t a dream.

A memory suddenly caught my attention, blending in its images with the one I was viewing of my daughter pleasing herself. I had, in fact, played house with a close girl friend when we were seven or eight. Just a bit younger than Pam, closer to her sister Kim’s age.

I’m not sure now how we got started. I think I had discovered some dirty picture magazines of my father’s hidden in a closet and wanted to share them with someone, with her. Had I masturbated with them before I shared them? I don’t remember. I do remember discovering my bottom during nap time before I went to school and how rubbing it with my hand or humping a stuffed animal was very pleasurable. My mother used to walk in on me sometimes and cajole me into stopping. If I weren’t interrupted, I could go on forever.

I think my friend and I were supposed to be at her house because my parents were away. We must have snuck back in the house because I wanted to show her the magazines. There were pictures of just young girls, and of men doing different things to girls, and girls doing things to girls. My friend and I quite naturally began to touch ourselves through our clothes in response to the pictures stimulating us. I don’t remember that we talked about what we were doing. We were just doing.

Soon, what we were doing was stripping naked and climbing onto my bed to masturbate. We lay on our backs, side by side with a magazine between us, touching and rubbing. For me, after a bit, I was watching her as much as I was looking at the pictures.

We were too afraid of getting caught with the magazines after that to take them out again. Probably didn’t really have the opportunity. But that didn’t stop us from masturbating together when we were able to sleep over at each other’s house. We may have once or twice touched each other but beyond that, I don’t remember doing anything more than watching each other pull on ourselves.

I thought about my friend’s fingers in her little bare slit, rubbing vigorously, then my thoughts returned to Pam who was climaxing at the bottom of my bed while I was doing everything I could not to touch myself or her.

When Pam was there that first night I didn’t touch myself, strong as the urge was. I didn’t want to spoil the scene or embarrass her. I could only imagine that she had been doing this for awhile, since I would likely have slept through it most nights. It also explained why I occasionally had panties go missing, only to turn up later in the laundry.

My little trooper got herself off a couple of times in short order and scooted off of the bed and out of my room, dropping that pair of panties back on the chair where I had left them. As soon as she left the room, I touched myself and rubbed my pussy rapidly a couple of dozen times, having two quick orgasms in succession just to relieve the pressure a bit.

I got up after that and retrieved the panties. I wanted to smell them to see if our odors had mingled. If I could smell my daughter on them. Sure enough. They were ripe from my day but there was also that sweet, urine kind of smell that she and my younger daughter has.

I still wasn’t satisfied from my quickie. I lay back in bed, pulling my feet up to my butt to open myself fully to my hand as I put the crotch of the panties to my nose and inhaled the pungent smell of my daughter and myself. I put my thumb on my clit and thrust two, then three fingers deep inside me as I relived the scene that my daughter had played out on my bed.

I was rewarded with a countless number of climaxes. That my daughter was so turned on by my body and my smell turned me on even more. I found myself passionately in lust with her, but wasn’t sure if or how or when I might do something about it — except to enjoy her nocturnal visits, if she ever chose to return.

I have to admit that I was somewhat naughty after that. While we’d always been fairly liberal about nakedness around the house, as the girls (the younger one is eight) became more aware around the time that they started to school, my husband and I were more careful to cover up with robes and close the bathroom door. Once the girls could take care of their own bathing and dressing routine, I didn’t much get involved, so I had little opportunity to see them naked or they me. After that night though, that all changed when my husband wasn’t around. I even announced at breakfast one morning as the girls asked me why I was in my panties and a camisole instead of being dressed, that I thought since we were all girls, we could be a bit looser around one another when it came to our bodies.

For a while, tees and panties became the norm after that when Dad was away. The girls caught me more than once looking at the white V of their cotton panties and I caught them looking at my often soaked V from being aroused but they never asked if I had peed my pants. I began to leave the bathroom door open when I showered and I would walk naked back and forth from the bedroom to the bathroom. I hadn’t bothered too much with my bush of late but I decided to shave it off and show it off. As summer came, I instituted skinny dipping when no men were around. This was the best and naughtiest thing I did, for awhile anyway. Cavorting naked in the pool with them gave us a chance to touch places that we don’t normally touch, just briefly as we wrestled with one another.

With my older daughter’s interest in my body, I was flattered and very interested in hers. As my daughters and I became increasingly naked more than dressed when we were on our own, I was almost constantly aroused, needing to relieve myself several times a day. Not yet at the point of doing that with them watching, I would steal off to my room or wait until they were out playing and have a quickie. I noticed both of the girls were spending more time alone or even together behind closed doors. I was guessing that I was seducing them as they were seducing me and they needed to relieve themselves too. I was intrigued by the possibility that they were doing it together. Imagining that heightened my arousal even more.

But what I looked most forward to were the nights my husband was away. I trained myself to stay awake but appear to be asleep so that I could enjoy having by daughter with me, masturbating. After she would leave, the orgasms I had were the best I’ve ever had. The scene would play out pretty much the way it had that first night but I had come to lying with my legs open so that she could crawl up between them getting very close to my cunt. She would kneel with her head almost over my pussy and touch herself vigorously while taking deep breaths through her nose. After a couple of climaxes, she would scurry out and I would come using my hand until I was exhausted.

Then one night things changed. Pam took her hand from herself and touched my pussy, just at the top of the slit where I was desperate to put my own hand. I couldn’t help myself but moan out loud with pleasure. She pulled her hand back and started to bolt. Just as she climbed off the end of the bed I blurted out what came into my mind “Pam, it’s okay to make Mommy feel good.”

“It is?” she said.

“Yes, come here, honey.”

Pam climbed back onto the bed and up into my waiting arms. I pulled her close to me, our naked bodies melting into one. I wrapped my legs around her waist, pushing my adult pussy up against her little one and began to rock her back and forth. I was fucking my daughter and we were both enjoying it. We both demonstrated how much we enjoyed it by having orgasms one after the other. Spent, I put my lips on hers and we French kissed each other. I needed to ask her where she learned that at ten, I thought, but I didn’t want to break the magic spell that we were in.

We slept together that night as much as two new lovers ever sleep the first time they make love. Pam turned out to be very facile at making love with a woman and new how to touch and use her mouth in just the right ways.

I asked her how she knew how to do these things. She said she and her sister had been involved with one another, and with a babysitter that we no longer used. It had been the babysitter that had taught her all of the techniques she knew. The sitter had first seduced Pam when she was eight and then her little sister soon after that. When that sitter moved away, Pam and her sister kept up their intimacy. She told me that only recently had she wanted to be with me in that way and began to masturbate thinking of me. Stealing my panties and smelling them had aroused her, and that got her thinking about visiting me at night.

While I still very much enjoy my daughter’s body when we are together, there is nothing like the first times that I experienced that night. The first time I touched her bare labia. The first time I opened them with my fingers and explored, looking for her clit. The first time I put my mouth on her, licking and sucking. Taking her sex into my mouth. Kissing her rosebud, which made her giggle because it tickled. Her straddling my face, riding me like a horse in her ecstasy. The first time she put her mouth on my sex, as I held my lips apart for her to easily find me.

In the morning I woke to find myself completely wrapped around my naked daughter, enveloping her body in my arms and legs, her little butt pushed into my crotch. In a second or less I remembered our loving, and felt guilty and conflicted. I couldn’t possibly continue to have Pam as a lover, could I, as much as I wanted to? As much as I had been hoping to with all of my seducing her over the last few weeks, even though I don’t think I even admitted that to myself. I was simply going along with my daughter’s game, thinking nothing more would come of it. She would visit me and play with herself and then when she left, I’d have these great orgasms thinking about what I might do with her. It would always be a fantasy, though. Then, just the night before, I had let it become a reality.

I couldn’t afford to let Pam sleep too long because her sister would be getting up and looking for us. If she were to find Pam naked in bed with me, it would only complicate my problem. I gave Pam a nudge or two and a couple of tight hugs and she woke up. She too was a bit disoriented and then remembered the night time activities. “Oh, Mommy, I love you so much. Can we play again like that?”

I started to say no, that it had been a weak moment on my part, and that moms and their daughters were not supposed to be doing the things we had done — but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I dug the hole deeper and told her that it was really, really important that what we had between us was our secret. No one else could know or there would be hell to pay. Pam promised me that it was our secret and thanked me profusely for what we had done.

It was just the two of us for quite a long time. My husband went through a spell of not traveling, so our time was very limited. We would catch a few minutes alone when he was working and Kim was otherwise occupied at sports practice or something similar. We would get into each other’s pants quickly when we could and use our mouths or our hands to pleasure one another. Our goodbye kisses, even in public, became a bit of a tease with furtive tongue exchanges. Pam reported that she and Kim were still involved and that she had learned quite a lot of our loving that made their time together better.

One day, though, my husband left for a business trip on a Saturday. It was hot still, though late summer. The girls and I stripped and went out for a swim. I wrestled with them and I could see that all of us were aroused from it. Maybe it was that we hadn’t had much alone time for weeks. We dried ourselves in the sun and went indoors.

My husband has a collection of dirty movies on tape, and I decided to pop one in the VCR that promised girl-on-girl action, just to see what would happen. I was prepared to at least masturbate in front of both of the girls, even though I hadn’t done it with Kim. Nor did I know whether she knew or not that her sister and her mother were lovers.

It didn’t take any of us very long to be touching ourselves while we watched the girls on the TV having sex. It was watching them tribbing, though, that got Pam and Kim to touching one another and wanting to try it. They scissored their legs over each other and pushed their cunnies together. They held each other’s hands tightly and wiggled their little bottoms.

It was a fantastic scene. I was soaking myself and the sofa I was so wet from me fingering myself hard enough to do damage, with waves and waves of orgasms.

When the girls climaxed, they wanted me to try it with them. I tribbed with each of them and then we branched out from there. In the end the best was lying on my back with the little one on my face and Pam eating me out in the expert way she has. Exhausted, I pulled back, rubbing my purring kitty gently while I watched Kim go down on Pam one more time to get her off.

Now it’s the three of us. When Dad is away, my girls and I play. They sleep with me in my bed, loving and then snuggling close for the rest of the night. I don’t know how this might turn out as they get older and become attracted to others, but for now, I know there isn’t anywhere else we want to be.

The End

By April

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in October 2005 }

Three people gathered in the large comfortable living room to take part in a private ceremony. A girl and a woman stood next to each other while a second woman stood before them. The ceremony’s forbidden nature ensured its secrecy; it was a marriage between mother and daughter.

“I, Cheryl Ward, take you, Kelsey Ward to be my wife, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. In the presence of God, our family and friends, I offer you my solemn vow to be your faithful partner in sickness and in health, in good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to support you in your goals, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, and to cherish you for as long as we both shall live.”

Cheryl smiled with happiness; her eyes glistened with tears of pride as she spoke the words of love and commitment to her nine-year-old daughter. The wonderful creature with the key to her heart flashed back a smile of adoration before turning to face the lady who stood before them, her mother’s best and dearest friend Sarah.

Sarah, an attractive woman of 33, took in the sight of mother and daughter. Cheryl was a tall willowy woman of 32 with long auburn hair that dropped down to the small of her back in rich lustrous waves. Her emerald eyes sparkled with beauty and intelligence and made her want to dive in and love her again. And of course she had, Cheryl and Sarah had been lovers for five years and it had been happy up to a point. Cheryl was bisexual but her predilection for women didn’t match her craving for young girls, and it had come as a shock when Cheryl had opened her heart and told her. Cheryl’s husband had died seven years ago in an accident at work leaving the girl without a father, so Cheryl had been both mother and father to her and eventually more.

Sarah had entertained suspicions ever since Cheryl had made her confession, she had wondered with what might be described as horrified fascination whether mother and daughter might embark on something unspeakable. Now looking back, she realised that’s why Cheryl had told her, she had fed her the hint on purpose to soften the real blow. A softer landing? Some chance! She found the idea disgusting; it was something she could never come to terms with.

They had all lived together quite happily — or so she had thought — at Cheryl’s house; Kelsey had her own room while Sarah and her mother slept together. The very thought of them having sex behind her back whenever she was out made her weep. She’d threatened to walk out, called her a pervert and any number of names, but had stayed. Cheryl had pleaded for forgiveness, and stranger still, she had given it. Oh yes, she had cried and screamed at her but Cheryl had just stood there with a bowed head and eventually she knew it was no good, there was nothing she could do.

In the end, Sarah had forgiven her. An end to their lovemaking was bad enough, she didn’t want to lose her friendship too even though her heart was being torn apart. She left and moved in to the home she’d shared with her husband before she met Cheryl.

There were so many things she would miss. Sex with Cheryl had been something to die for. Her energy in bed had literally taken her breath away, and the music of her cries had filled the room. She wondered if it was the same with Kelsey. She felt her eyes moistening as she realised it would be even more so with her. She tried to imagine what it would be like between them but decided to quit the line of thought; it was far too hurtful, even now.

All that was nearly a year ago, and although it still hurt at times, she had always loved little Kelsey and it gave her pleasure to see the happiness she shared with her mother even if she found it hard to accept the form of love they practiced together. Life had moved on for her too, she had found a good man and was happy with things. They were all friends again — good friends, and that was fine. In fact that’s why Cheryl and Kelsey had asked Sarah to witness their wedding, no one else meant as much to them or could be trusted with the secret of their forbidden bond.

Sarah switched her gaze to Kelsey, a smaller replica of her mother. She wore an elegant satin bodice that hugged her slender frame, while the neckline and waistline were trimmed with pretty pearls. The effect was topped off with an ivory-coloured sash tied into a bow round her back. Sarah didn’t think she had ever seen a prettier little girl. She wore a soulful expression as she listened to her mother speak her vows and it sat well on her heart-shaped face. It made her look solemn yet beautiful. Her hair was different from Cheryl’s, however; it was blonde and straight and swept down her back in a silky wave that made Sarah envious when she compared it with her own curly locks.

She turned her head and her eyes alighted on Cheryl; she sent a silent message of support before moving back to Kelsey with whom she repeated the same. Clearing her throat slightly and while still looking at her, she spoke the words they had previously agreed upon.

“Do you, Kelsey, take Cheryl to be your wedded partner?”

Kelsey gulped a little and took a deep breath as she began speaking the words she had been rehearsing every spare moment of the week.

“I, Kelsey, take you, Cheryl to be my life partner, loving what I know of you, and trusting what I do not yet know. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, getting to know you — the woman — and falling in love a little more every day. I promise to love and cherish you through whatever life may bring us.”

Near to tears herself, Sarah took a tiny gold diamond ring from her skirt pocket and handed it to Cheryl, who held it in her hand with a look of wonder before gently placing it on the wedding finger of her daughter’s hand.

Sarah concluded the ceremony. “Then I now pronounce you a married couple.”

“Oh Mum… we’re married,” declared the awed voice of her daughter.

“Yes, my darling, you’re my wife now, for ever and ever amen.”

They stayed like that for some time, looking into each other’s eyes with more love than you could imagine until Sarah cleared her throat.

“Ahem. You may now kiss the bride.” Then she laughed. “Although of course you are both the bride, technically speaking.”

They both joined in the laughter for a moment until Cheryl bent down and joined her lips to Kelsey’s in an open mouthed kiss that threatened to melt the paste holding up the wallpaper. Cheryl’s larger mouth engulfed the dainty lips of her daughter’s in a wet seeking embrace as she forced her tongue in between and found the back of her mouth. It was a kiss that didn’t seem like ending, at least not in the next few moments, so Sarah smiled and headed for the kitchen to fill her glass with some of the champagne that had been opened especially for the occasion.

As soon as Kelsey heard Sarah leave, she slid a devilish hand under her mother’s dress and pushed the dress up to her waist. Then she slid her hand up her stockings and onto her thighs. The flesh was warm, and the heat increased as she flattened her palm against the thin lace of her panties and squeezed them into the groove of her mother’s sex.

Cheryl moaned in her throat and hunkered down onto her hand, they hadn’t made love for nearly a week, it was, explained Cheryl, a good way of making the honeymoon night something very special, but it took all of her strength to remove her daughter’s hand from between her legs and kneel down next to her.

“Later, honey. We have to wait,” she hissed in her ear. “Sarah’s just in the next room.”

“Oh Mum, I want you though,” Kelsey whimpered reaching between her mother’s legs again. “I want to suck you there.”

“Oh God yes darling, you can, all night if you like, but just wait a little longer until it’s time, and then it’ll be like nothing else you’ve ever had. I promise.”

“Ummm, I suppose you’re right,” she sighed, looking up into those searching green eyes. Then she ran her fingers through her mother’s hair and caught a curl in her hand, then ran it down the length all the way to the small of her back. “Just one thing, though.”

“Yes?”

“When we go to bed, can we try some things I saw on the net?” she asked shyly.

Cheryl wondered what that could mean; of course it had implications, but of what kind she wasn’t sure yet. She decided to take things as they came, right now she wanted to speak to Sarah and thank her for being so supportive.

“Umm… sounds interesting, you’ll have to tell me what you saw later,” she answered before licking Kelsey’s ear lobe with the tip of her tongue. “I’m going to have a word with Sarah and thank her for today. Why don’t you go to your room and try out the new game she’s bought you for your wedding present?”

At the mention of the computer game, a look of delight transported Kelsey’s expression into one of childish glee. She looked up and smiled into her mother’s face and Cheryl felt her thighs moisten a little as she took in the lovely visage of her new wife’s golden-skinned features. She adored the way her freckles spread across her cheeks and the bridge of her upturned nose like a shoal of meandering fish, the depth of her deep green eyes and the small heart shaped face. Like an angel, she thought, just how corny is that? But just then a flicker of late afternoon sunlight dipped in from the window and rested on her darling and lit up her golden hair like a halo of burning fire.

Cheryl swallowed as a lump filled her throat and for a moment she was speechless, consumed with love and rising desire until Kelsey reached up and drew her mother down for a kiss before speeding up the stairs to her room.

She poured herself a glass of champagne, headed over to the kitchen and took a seat at the table next to Sarah who was also indulging, and set her glass down next to hers.

“Thank you for your support, Sarah. You were wonderful today. We won’t forget, neither me nor Kelsey,” she said with a nod in the direction of the stairs.

“Hmm,” she breathed with a smile. “That’s okay, I was glad to help.”

“You were marvellous.”

“And you’re a marvelous couple,” she grinned.

“Mmm,” murmured Cheryl as she took a fresh sip from her glass and then changed the subject. “Things still good with you and Frank?”

“Yeah, no complaints. Things are going well since he got the new job and we moved into the other house. He’s a wonderful man Cheryl; he’s so caring with me.” She looked pensively down at the table before picking up her glass again. “Yes, who knows how far things might go?”

Her tone made Cheryl look up and catch her eye. “Do you see it leading to another wedding? Yours, perhaps?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe,” she answered with a shrug. “Neither of us are rushing, but I think it might be on the cards.”

Cheryl reached over and gave her ex-lover’s hand a tight squeeze. “I’m happy for you Sarah, you deserve it after everything I did to — ”

She was silenced with a hand on her lips as Sarah cut her off. “Sshhh. It’s in the past, you’ve apologized enough times already. I’m just glad that you and Kelsey are so wonderful together; I’ve never seen her as contented. There can’t be anything wrong with that, at least not the happiness.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly. “Things are very special between us; you know that, and… and I suppose I needed to solemnize our relationship, kind of make things official between us, so when Kelsey had this crazy idea that maybe we ought to get married, after all she said, ‘we’re living as husband and wife behind these doors,’ so I thought what the hell, why not?”

Why not indeed? thought Sarah. But what happens when Kelsey gets older? She’s only nine now and still a child, but what happens when she becomes a teenager and starts to see others of her age dating? It was something she’d been thinking about a lot recently and she decided to voice her concerns, even though she didn’t know how to put them into words.

“Cheryl, what does… what happens when she’s older, when she sees others of her age going out together? What if she found someone she liked and wanted to be with her — or him? How would you cope, Cheryl? Would you stop her from doing what she wanted?”

Cheryl heaved a sigh and looked down at the table as though thinking but then suddenly brought her face level with Sarah’s. “Of course I couldn’t stop her,” she sniffed. “Try … I’d try like hell, but if she really wanted to then I’d be powerless to stop her. I wouldn’t mind her seeing other boys and girls as long as she came back to my bed. That’s okay. She needs to be allowed some freedom in that respect.

“But if she ever really finds someone she loves enough to want to leave me for and forgets her promises to me, the ones she made today, then there’d be nothing I could fucking do — not a fucking thing!”

She took a hanky from her pocket and dabbed it to her eyes as they began to fill with tears.

Alarmed at her friend’s distress, Sarah slid off the chair and dropped to her knees beside her and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. “I’m so sorry. It was stupid of me to say such a thing today. Please forgive me. I don’t want to spoil your special day.” Cheryl’s reaction had taken her by surprise, and shocked her. She was usually such a strong person. Sarah couldn’t remember seeing her get so easily upset and was ashamed of herself for misjudging her ex-lover’s emotional state.

“No…..no Sarah, it’s me who should apologize. I’m such a silly old hen,” she said, drying her eyes and stuffing the tissue back in her pocket. She sighed, enjoying the comfort of Sarah’s arms and an old familiar reassurance she remembered so well. There had been such love between them, and in a way it was a shame it had all ended the way it had.

She had always been different; even before she was married she’d been attracted to young girls. It was something to be kept secret in the form of forbidden fantasies when she was by herself. There used to be a little girl who lived next door to them when she and her husband first got married. She was only six or so, but to Cheryl she was so beautiful, so perfect and sexual that she would touch herself whenever she thought of her. Soon she was masturbating regularly, lurid fantasies involving the two of them in her bed and the things they would do.

Of course, nothing actually happened — it was all in her mind, but over the years she found herself attracted to numerous little girls in just the same way. Luckily, unlike many other women who shared the same desires as her but regarded them as a weakness and hated themselves, she accepted it as part of her sexuality and never tried to suppress it.

Like many other women, Cheryl experimented with lesbian love in her teens. She soon realized she preferred women to men and yet at the same time she desperately wanted to have a child, so she married a pleasant-enough man who gave her a daughter. From then on she lost interest in their sex life and they drifted far enough apart for him to find another woman and they divorced.

As Kelsey grew from a baby into a young girl, Cheryl’s feeling towards her became increasingly sexual. As with her earlier attitude towards her sexuality, she never tried to fight her feelings, in fact she had come to believe it was the right of all females to experience love from one another without regard to whatever society regarded as taboo, acceptable or unacceptable. It wasn’t her problem, no bloody hassle. As far as she was concerned, nothing that happened between two people was inappropriate as long as they were comfortable and happy with what they were doing.

Kelsey had always been close to her mother; from the beginning she had been a tactile child. Both mother and daughter delighted in touches and caresses whenever they were near each other. Long hugs were common, the feel of each other’s bodies, the warmth and softness of a loving embrace, face against face, cheek to cheek, lips to cheek and gradually lips brushing lips.

At first the kisses had been brief, but gradually their lips had stayed together longer until they’d parted and become open mouthed, tonguing each other’s mouths and swapping saliva in steamy open-mouthed kisses. Both mother and daughter were indulging in what Kelsey called a long session of ‘snogging.’ Things couldn’t continue as they were without either a progression towards full-blown sex, or a complete end to what they were doing.

The next step felt so natural. It happened one evening as mother and daughter lay on the sofa enjoying a session of kissing and heavy petting. It had been going on for nearly half an hour; their coital-like thrusts and dry humping becoming more frantic and their cries more desperate. Cheryl’s frustrated body was near to breaking point when she suddenly pulled away leaving a long trail of saliva hanging from her lip. Then in a voice shaky with emotion, she asked Kelsey if she would like to go upstairs and continue what they were doing without any clothes on. Kelsey said she did, they did — and the rest, as they say, is history.

It was the first real sex Cheryl had ever experienced that had left her fulfilled as a woman both physically and emotionally. In turn Kelsey had thrived from her mother’s caresses and had moaned and wept from the sensations sweeping through her body as the woman’s mouth and tongue made her world explode. When she surfaced from her first climax, Cheryl raised her head from between her legs and sent a trail of licks and kisses up her body and over her face. Then she’d smiled into her daughter’s wonder-struck eyes and whispered a request that sent Kelsey sliding down her body to place her mouth between her mother’s parting thighs.

The orgasm that followed had been the most intense of Cheryl’s life. During the course of Kelsey’s amateurish but spirited sucking, Cheryl had gone from sighs and whispered urgings to delirious cries and sobs before finally clamping her thighs around her daughter’s ears and spurting into her young mouth.

“I’ve no worries about my little girl,” she said smiling through a final sniff. “We’re both deeply in love, and everything’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

Sarah held her eyes and smiled back her love.

“I believe you. You and Kelsey are very special to me. You’re an extraordinary couple.”

“We are,” she agreed with a crooked grin.

They chatted for a while longer the way old friends do, until Sarah looked up at the clock. It read a quarter to seven, and she decided it was time to get back to her husband and leave the newlyweds to their own devices.

Once alone, Cheryl headed upstairs to her bedroom and excitedly changed into something she’d bought especially for the occasion. She slid on a pair of sheer nylon stockings, black stay-ups with red embroidered roses stitched onto their bands at the top. Then she changed into a lace half-cup bra showing nearly all of her breasts and panties the same colour as her stockings, then strolled over to the full-length mirror.

Her slender figure reflected back from the glass and caused a small smile to appear on her face. Pleased at what she saw, she ran her hands through her hair and then down to cup her breasts and tweak her nipples. Exercising at the local gym helped to keep her in shape; her body was toned and sleek and looked fabulous in any clothes she chose to wear — and even better without, as Kelsey was so fond of telling her. She was proud of her tilting breasts with their spreading areolas and long nipples. She took them between her thumb and forefinger and massaged them for a moment and then giggled delightedly as they rose up like a pair of jumping sentries caught sleeping on watch.

Moving closer to the mirror, Cheryl refreshed her makeup and applied expensive perfume to a few strategic places about her body. Glancing once more into the mirror, she jumped as she saw Kelsey’s reflection staring back at her in a saucy-faced grin. Kelsey had removed her dress and hung it in the wardrobe. Now she wore a skimpy black tube and tight fitting jeans, transforming her from a dainty little girl into an underage temptress.

“Kelsey,” she exclaimed loudly with a surprised smile. “You made me jump, you little monster.”

Kelsey was playing with her game when she heard her mother treading up the stairs. She expected she was coming to see her, but when she didn’t appear she became inquisitive and crept along the corridor to her bedroom and peered round the door. Kelsey was transported to voyeur’s paradise as she watched her mother undress and cavort naked in front of the mirror. She stood it for as long as she could before she gave in and skipped up to her with twinkling eyes. Throwing both arms around her mother’s hips, the child pressed her face into Cheryl’s buttocks.

“Kelsey?” The girl licked and kissed the panty-clad globes for all she was worth before pressing against — but not into, thanks to the stretchy lace — the divide in between. Cheryl felt a treacly sensation between her legs; she stepped away from her daughter and then turned with a smile.

Overcome by devilment herself, she slid her panties half way down her buttocks and Kelsey, not one to miss an invitation, dived in and smothered the pale rounded globes with kisses before heading for the valley in between, but was stopped short of her goal as her mother pulled them back up.

“Uh-oh,” she grinned. “We can save that till later.”

“Oh, Mum, you meanie! Why can’t I?” she cried with disappointment. “You know you love it when I do you in there.”

“Yes, I do,” she said in the kind of voice that grins, “but we’ve waited all week. We can hang on a smidgen longer, just an hour or so while we toast our wedding properly and get each other in the mood.”

“But Mum, I’m already in the mood,” she insisted.

Cheryl tossed back her head with an earthy chuckle, and her hair flew back in a rippling wave.

“Well, you can have some champagne,” she said. “You’re always saying you want to grow up so you can try grown-up drinks, now here’s your chance.”

“Then can we have our honeymoon?” Kelsey insisted.

“Umm, yes. Give me a kiss, then we’ll go and flop down by the fire,” Cheryl said as she nibbled her daughter’s ear and planted a kiss on her lips.

“Oh, brilliant — I’m having real champagne!” Kelsey exclaimed excitedly.

“Yes, dear, but no more than one glass. I don’t want you falling asleep on me, because then, young lady,” she said tapping her nose playfully, “there won’t be any honeymoon at all. Umm, I want another kiss.”

This time it was a real kiss, the kind that had gold plates on. It was open-mouthed and contained a great deal of tongue, enough to send Kelsey’s toes curling up, especially when she felt her mum’s hands squeezing her bum through her panties.

The little girl sighed happily as they came apart, then Cheryl took her hand and led her downstairs into the living room. She took a seat on the sofa in front of the flickering fire with its deep hearth and wrought-iron grating while Cheryl disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“Here, take a sip… but don’t drink it too fast or it’ll go up your nose,” she warned as she took a seat and handed her a glass full of bubbling champagne. Kelsey reached out and gripped the glass in both hands and then gingerly placed the rim to her lips and drank. She swallowed more than she had intended to, however, and her mother’s warning was true to the word. She let out a loud squeal of surprise and Cheryl was just in time to grab the glass before most of the champagne splashed onto the carpet.

“A little too fast. Here, I have it now. I’m putting it on the coffee table so nothing gets spilt. Take another sip in a minute, but be careful.” She took a deep drink herself and then set it down on the table. It made a small tinkling sound as it touched Kelsey’s glass where it stood on the polished mahogany. Then moving up, she placed an arm around her small shoulders and drew her closer.

“Did you like the way it went? The wedding?” she prompted.

Kelsey nodded.

“The pledges we made to each other are very important, aren’t they? Could you feel that? Do you still truly mean what you said?”

“Yes I do Mum, and when I said what I did I meant every word. I love you, I really do,” Kelsey said with feeling as she gently cupped her mother’s face in her hands. “It was me who said I wanted to marry you, remember? I kept saying so and asking you, but you thought I was just being childish until I made you see that I really meant it.”

Cheryl took her daughter’s hands and kissed each one in turn, then kissed her softly on the lips. “Yes I know. I have no more doubts. Let’s change the subject. Let’s talk about something else,” she said with a gleam in her eyes.

“Umm, sounds good,” murmured Kelsey, who then began kissing her mother’s shoulders with soft brushes of her lips.

“Oh, Kelsey,” she sighed dreamily.

“I’m your wife now, Mummy darling, and I want you so much.”

Cheryl picked up Kelsey’s glass and handed it to her, and then reached for her own.

“And you’re my wife. You’re everything I could wish for.” Then she raised her glass and told Kelsey to do the same. “Here’s to the rest of our time together. Our love that’s so different and yet so thrilling, the kind of love that only we can understand.

“To the wedding.”

The next hour was given up to passionate kisses and breathless whisperings as they exchanged ideas, suggestions and promises about the sort of acts they would perform on each other once they were in bed. Lips apart and mouths wide open, they gave welcome to each other’s tongues and moans of lust, Kelsey’s more of a cry while her mother’s grew from her chest into wanton growls. Cheryl shook and sobbed into her daughter’s mouth as she felt the child’s hand wend it’s way between her thighs and then dip down to caress her sex through the ridiculously thin material of her panties.

Kelsey was experiencing the same treatment from her mother, her hips lurched into her lover’s hand and her muffled whimpers joined the torrid acoustics of the room as they both drew nearer to an abyss of ecstasy. It took all of Cheryl’s self control to pull away and suggest in a shaky voice that they had better continue in the bedroom.

Then she headed for the door, and Kelsey watched her magnificently constructed arse swing out of the room to the swish of her stocking.

“Mummy,” she said as she caught up with her.

“Yes, darling?”

“I want you to come in my mouth,” she exclaimed in a shy little girl’s voice that didn’t match the words she had just used.

Cheryl lips quivered into a smile as an aching hunger writhed within her loins. “So do I. Oh God, so do I!”

The End

By Amanda

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in June 2005 }

Pariyat sat back laughing, watching the smoke rise from the extinguished candles on the cake as everyone clapped and cheered. Today was the girl’s tenth birthday.

Her mother kissed her on the cheek before cutting her the first slice. “Hoppy Burrtday, Pariyat,” said the woman in her heavy Indian accent.

Lindsey smiled. She loved hearing the way Chahna, Pariyat’s mother, rolled her R’s.

Chahna had fled her husband in Kolkata, coming to the United States in hopes of a better life. She was a lesbian, and in her homeland such things were simply not acceptable. She had brought with her a lovely four-year-old daughter and a Bachelor’s degree in computer science, allowing her to find work and make a decent living for her child and herself.

Two years after coming to America, Chahna met Lindsey, a redheaded girl with lovely green eyes and porcelain white skin. One of Chahna’s favorite features of her American lover was her slight pooch belly. She liked how it felt when she kissed it.

Chahna left her daughter and the child’s many friends in the dining room to eat cake and laugh and generally have fun.

Lindsey followed her girlfriend into the kitchen. “She really seems to be having fun,” said Lindsey.

“I like the traditions here. Lots of enjoyment for the little ones.” Chahna dropped the cake knife in the sink and turned on the water. “Have you thought about what we spoke of last week?”

“Yeah.”

Lindsey sat down at the small kitchen table and ran her hands through her hair. Chahna had known about her secrets for years now and had never seemed troubled by them. “But how do you know she’s even…”

“Gay?” Chahna asked.

The word sounded strange coming from her. She said it so rarely. “A mother knows these things,” Chahna smiled as she turned from the sink. She walked across the room to sit with her lover. “Silly, she has told me so.”

“When?” Lindsey asked. She and Pariyat had a good relationship, and the girl had never mentioned it to her.

“You will have to ask Pariyat yourself. She is not one to say too much.”

“You asked her if she was gay?”

“No. I asked her if she wished to get married. She told me she would if she ever met the right girl.” Chahna laughed to herself. “I told her she could marry a boy if she wanted and she told me that I was being gross.” Chahna looked at her girlfriend for a moment. “Gross is bad, right?”

Lindsey smiled and nodded, then said, “I don’t know, though. She’s still very young.”

Chahna put her hand on Lindsey’s. “I knew when I was much younger than she. And I know about you, so why do you argue?”

“Well, Pariyat has never given me a reason to think she’d be okay with it.”

“I am giving you my daughter. I trust you not to hurt her. And I know what you really dream of when we are together.”

“I don’t…” Lindsey began.

“But you do, I know this. And I do not mind. I love you and I know you love me, so it does not hurt me.” Chahna sat back in her seat. “Tonight, that will be my gift to you both.”

* * *

The rest of the long summer day went by slowly. Lindsey was becoming more nervous with every passing hour. What she was being offered both excited and terrified her. All of her life Lindsey had known that she was attracted to little girls. She’d thought that she probably would live a rather reclusive life, ending up a lonely old spinster with a hundred cats. Then she met Chahna. The Indian woman and her wonderful daughter had brought new breath into her life. She had fallen for them both almost right away.

Now, four years later, Chahna was asking her for something both terrible and wonderful. Chahna wanted Lindsey to introduce her beautiful daughter to the wonders of lesbian love.

Lindsey’s belly tightened when she heard the water in the bathroom come on. Pariyat was taking her bath and would be ready for bed very soon. Trying to work up her nerve, she walked up the stairs to the second floor of the small house and around a corner to the bathroom. The door was closed. She knocked softly before opening it and stepping in.

“Hey, Jelly Bean,” she said, smiling down at the girl whom she thought of as her stepdaughter.

“Hi, Lindsey,” Pariyat beamed. The little girl was very fond of her mother’s lover. The two had become fast friends almost from the moment they met. She picked up a handful of bubbles and playfully blew them at Lindsey as the woman sat down on the floor next to the tub.

Lindsey being in the bathroom while Pariyat bathed was not unusual. It was a guilty pleasure she often indulged. She had begun developing a real crush on Pariyat about a year earlier. It was the child’s beautiful budding womanhood: the tiny lumps that just hinted of the breasts to come, and the slight curve of her hips. Pariyat looked almost exactly like her mother, something that made it even easier to fall in love with her.

“Your momma and I had an interesting conversation today.”

Pariyat look up at Lindsey but didn’t say anything.

“We talked about you.”

The girl’s deep dark eyes widened slightly. “I’m not in trouble, am I?” she asked.

“No sweetie, of course not.” Lindsey reached into the tub. The water was hot, not just warm but hot. “Your mother seems to think you’re a lesbian. Are you?”

The question was so to the point that it almost surprised Lindsey when she asked it. She had not expected this to flow out so easily, but Chahna had made it seem like all she needed to do was ask.

Pariyat looked down at the bubbles shyly and shrugged. “I like a girl,” she said quietly. “And… I want to marry that girl when I grow up.”

“Oh?” Lindsey tried to sound nonchalant. “Is the girl you like someone from your school?”

“No. Well, one a little bit. But I already know who I’m going to marry.”

“Who?”

Pariyat blushed. Her dark skin normally hid that, but she blushed enough so her cheeks darkened and she looked away. “I can’t tell you,” she said. “It was my birthday wish.”

“Ah, well you’re right. You better not tell me then,” Lindsey said playfully.

Pariyat washed her hair, then pulled the plug in the tub. She sat in the water playing with the bubbles until the tub was completely drained. With the water gone she stood up, and Lindsey wrapped a towel around her, rubbing her arms and tummy dry. She kissed the girl on the nose and chin, then patted her behind as she stepped out of the tub.

“I have to brush my hair,” said Pariyat.

Lindsey smiled. She loved the girl’s long straight black hair. It reached down to just above her butt, and she kept it quite well. It did not hurt that every night before she went to bed her mother plaited it into two long braids. They walked downstairs so Chahna could do that.

With her hair done and in her pajamas — which consisted of one of Lindsey’s old t-shirts and a pair of boy’s boxers — Pariyat kissed them goodnight, then went back upstairs to her room. Lindsey lay quietly on the couch, her head in Chahna’s lap.

“I do not want you to have to wake her, so you’d better hurry,” the older woman urged.

“You’re pushing me?” Lindsey asked, not at all used to feeling pressure from her lover.

“If I do not, you will not go.”

Chahna coaxed Lindsey to a sitting position. “I love my daughter with all of my being. I want only the best for her. I know you will never hurt her or force her. I trust you with my most beloved Pariyat. I can think of no one better to be her first lover than you.”

She paused, waiting to see if Lindsey would say anything. “And you, I know you are a lover of children. I have seen what you read on the computer. I have seen how you look at girls, at Pariyat. I know you will be the gentle lover with her that you have always been with me.”

Lindsey nodded her head slowly. She considered what Chahna had said. She did love Pariyat very much, and this would be the realization of a fantasy she had entertained many times.

The young redhead walked slowly upstairs, then into Pariyat’s room. She found the child sitting on her bed with her feet dangling over the edge. In her arms she held a teddy bear, hugging it close to her body.

Lindsey pushed the door shut and crossed the room to kneel in front of the girl. “Did you have a good birthday?”

“Yes, very much. I got everything I wanted,” she said with a beaming smile.

Lindsey tried to make small talk, but she could not think of anything to say. She had never found herself at a loss for words with a potential lover, but this was unlike any situation she had ever experienced. “So, um, this girl you said you like… um, is she…”

“It’s okay,” Pariyat said quietly. She tangled her fingers in Lindsey’s hair, pulling her closer. “Momma told me you would be coming to me tonight.”

Lindsey looked puzzled for a moment. Chahna worked more hours than she did. She could even be called the breadwinner. When did she find time to have these conversations with her daughter?

“She did?” Lindsey moved to sit on the bed next to Pariyat. “What else did she tell you?”

“That I should not be afraid. That you would not hurt me.”

“Are you? Afraid, I mean?”

“A little.”

“Would you rather we did not do anything?” Lindsey pushed at the bangs Chahna had left hanging free to frame the child’s lovely face. “You know she doesn’t want you to do anything you don’t want to.”

“I know, she told me that already.” Pariyat turned on the bed, folding a leg under herself. “I don’t know what to do, though. You have to teach me.”

She looked bashfully up at the woman. Lindsey’s heart went out to the girl. She pulled her close, kissing her on the forehead, then wrapped her arms around the child, squeezing tightly. Pariyat returned the hug, even going so far as to set her teddy bear down.

“Maybe we’d both feel a little better if we turned the lights off,” Lindsey suggested.

Pariyat was visibly relieved. She was not usually shy about her body, much to her mother’s embarrassment, but tonight she seemed self-conscious.

The woman got up from the bed and flipped the light switch off. She paused with her hand on the wall, partly to let her eyes adjust, and partly to collect herself. Even through her uncertainty, she was feeling the heat within her building.

“Have you and your friends ever played, you know, sexy games?” Lindsey asked as she sat on the bed again.

“Sort of,” Pariyat giggled. “Me and Jenny sometimes kiss. Once I even kissed her — down there.”

Lindsey smiled to herself. With a deep breath she reached out and took the girl’s hand, gently laying her down, head on the pillow. “Now, sweetie, you’re safe with me. All you have to do is say stop and I will.” Lindsey almost hoped she would tell her to stop right there, but she did not.

“Teach me what you do with Momma,” said Pariyat. After a moment, she added, “Are you scared about it?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Me too,” Pariyat confessed. “But um, maybe if you pretended that I’m Momma it’d be easier.”

Lindsey almost cried. The child was so sweet. How could she ever be deserving of such a dear lover? “No, I don’t want to pretend you’re someone else. I love you, Pariyat. I think it will be nice to be with you like this.”

“I love you too,” Pariyat whispered.

Lindsey leaned down and kissed the girl’s soft, full lips. She pinched the bottom lip between her own and sucked on it for a moment before breaking the kiss.

“Is that how you kiss Momma?” Pariyat asked.

“Shhh.” Lindsey placed a finger on the child’s lips, quieting her. Then she pulled Pariyat up to a sitting position, spreading the girl’s thin legs apart. She moved close, wrapping her own legs around her young lover.

Lindsey leaned in, kissing the girl softly on the mouth, hands on her narrow waist. She was almost shocked by how small the girl felt in her grasp, so slim and tiny, as she slid her palms up and down along the child’s body.

Pariyat closed her eyes and sighed when Lindsey’s hands found her breast buds and the woman teased her pointed nipples with her thumbs through her shirt.

“I love you, Lindsey,” Pariyat whispered around her quickening breath.

In reply, Lindsey leaned in once more to kiss the moist, parted lips, just pushing her tongue into the girl’s mouth. She withdrew it quickly, so as not to give her too much too soon.

Lindsey coaxed Pariyat’s shirt up over her head, then pulled her own shirt off, dropping it to the floor. She reached up and unclasped her front-hook bra, allowing it to fall away and expose her 32-B chest.

Even in the darkened room, Pariyat could clearly make out the woman’s boobs. She really wanted to touch them, but was afraid to reach out. Her fears quickly melted away as Lindsey took her hands in her own and lifted them up to cup the sides of her breasts. Pariyat was fascinated by the feel of the woman’s soft, warm boobs in her hands. She was so engrossed that she almost did not notice Lindsey’s fingers again teasing her nipples.

Pariyat slowly moved her small hands, rubbing her thumbs over the tips of the woman’s erect nipples. Lindsey drew a long breath, moaning softly as she exhaled. Her nipples were very sensitive. They seemed to run a direct route to her clit before heading to her brain.

“Momma says that in our country girls used to learn the Kama Sutra from the time they were nine,” said Pariyat.

“Did your mother tell you what that was, the Kama Sutra?”

“She said it was a book that taught women how to please men.” Pariyat paused in her fondling of Lindsey’s nipples. “She said it taught women how to make love.”

“Well then you probably know more about it than I do, Jelly Bean.”

Lindsey kissed the child again. “Are you ready?” she asked.

“For what?”

Without an answer, Lindsey pushed the girl back on the bed. After quickly removing her own shorts and panties, she reached down and took the elastic of Pariyat’s boxer shorts, pulling gently on them. She drew the shorts down the girl’s legs and off, then tossed them playfully over her shoulder.

Now all that stood before Lindsey and a dream she had dared not hope could ever come true was a thin layer of cotton covered in small flowers. She held still, taking a deep breath.

Pariyat shifted nervously on the bed. “What’s wrong?” she asked, sounding very afraid. The girl covered her nearly flat chest with her arms and swallowed hard.

“Nothing,” Lindsey smiled. “You’re just so beautiful.”

The woman wanted to drink in all of the moment. She wanted to capture it and lock it away to relive over and over. She wanted to memorize every smell, every sight, and the feeling of every nerve in her body. After another long, deep breath, Lindsey leaned down and slowly began to place kisses on Pariyat’s tummy, her chest, her nipples, her belly button. She was drawing out the experience, reveling in it.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, Lindsey tugged at the panties the little girl wore. Pariyat lifted her bottom and Lindsey pulled the last of her clothing off. As the cotton panties fell to the floor, Lindsey’s inhibitions fell away. All she could feel was her love for the child. She wanted to do everything she could to earn Chahna’s trust, and to be deserving of Pariyat.

Starting again at her chest, Lindsey made her way down the girl’s body, softly kissing. She slowed as her chin brushed the child’s hairless mound. She could smell Pariyat’s excitement. It drove her. She hardly needed to gather her will to slide her tongue down Pariyat’s slit. The ten-year-old child’s folds, her clit, all felt so small and so wonderful. Lindsey felt so at home, she felt that everything was just exactly as it should be.

The woman pushed her tongue into the little girl and the child reacted with a sharp breath. “Do you like that?” Lindsey asked.

“Oh yes,” Pariyat moaned. “It feels so — special.”

Lindsey eased her finger into the child as she ran her tongue up to Pariyat’s clit. She could feel the girl’s legs tense on either side of her and could not help but smile. “I love you Jelly Bean,” she whispered.

Pariyat ran her fingers through Lindsey’s hair as the woman manipulated her clit. Soft little moans escaped her lips in rhythm with the in and out motions of Lindsey’s finger.

Pariyat’s breath soon began coming quicker and shorter, coaxing Lindsey to move faster, to suck harder on the girl’s clit. The child’s little fingers clenched hard in Lindsey’s hair, and she arched her back, squealing as she did.

Lindsey could give Chahna an orgasm and as that orgasm was subsiding could bring about another almost immediately. It was something she had been able to do with only one other woman. She wondered to herself if her lover’s daughter would respond the same way.

The woman released some of the pressure she was putting on the child’s clit. She pushed her finger in deeply, bringing the girl to the absolute pinnacle of her orgasm. As Pariyat’s breathing began to slow, Lindsey started pushing her finger in and out of the child, slowly at first but then growing faster. At the same time she sucked girl’s clit into her mouth and brushed her tongue across it. Almost immediately Pariyat squealed, her hands reaching over her head and under the pillow.

Lindsey was not quick enough to catch her again, but for their first experience together, twice was not bad. The young redhead rose up to her knees, stroking the girl’s legs.

“I feel so warm,” Pariyat whispered breathlessly.

“Did you enjoy that?”

“Yes, very much,” she said, nodding her head wildly. She pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Is it my turn now?” she asked.

“Do you want it to be?” Lindsey asked.

“I want to do everything you do with Momma.”

Lindsey leaned forward, pulling herself up to lie next to the girl. “Okay. You can do whatever you want, Jelly Bean.”

Pariyat first sucked at Lindsey’s nipples. She was not as skillful as her mother, but it was no less exciting for Lindsey. The girl then began rubbing her belly, while kissing along her sides. Timidly she worked around Lindsey’s lower regions, all the while careful not to touch the woman’s pubic hair.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“Sweetie, you don’t have to do this if you’re scared.”

“But I want to.” Pariyat ducked her chin, and if the lights had been on Lindsey would have seen the girl’s cheeks darken with a blush.

With a deep breath, Pariyat moved her hand down to the middle of Lindsey’s belly. Feeling the girl’s hand so close to her aching vagina, the woman was swooning. She could not believe what the little girl was doing to her. She wanted to feel the child’s fingers inside, her tongue, all of her, but she dared not push the girl.

Pariyat found her strength. She slid her hand between Lindsey’s legs and briefly fingered the woman’s moist lips before pulling away, to Lindsey’s desperate whimpers. Then Pariyat began planting kisses all around the woman’s belly, as she remembered Lindsey doing to her.

She thought about everything Lindsey had done, how she’d made her feel. It was hard to figure out. She had never felt anything like that, and was not sure that she could do the same.

Soon Pariyat’s little tongue reached out of her mouth and lapped at Lindsey’s sex. The woman trembled. She knew that it would take almost nothing to send her over the edge.

“It feels good when you put your fingers inside,” Lindsey whispered.

Pariyat silently nodded and pushed two of her fingers slowly up inside Lindsey. The woman moaned loudly, covering her face with her arms. Encouraged by the reaction, the girl worked her fingers in and out of the slippery vagina. She leaned in close, enticed by the scent of Lindsey’s arousal, and pressed her tongue against her clit, rubbing it back and forth quickly.

Whether it was having just tasted her lover’s daughter, or the mere thought of a child touching her, Lindsey did not care. Pariyat’s ministrations did their job and Lindsey cried out, slapping her palms on the mattress. She writhed under the girl’s lovemaking as the most profound orgasm ripped through her.

When it was over, Lindsey relaxed into the bed. Her breath was deep, slowing from the excitement. Pariyat crawled up along the woman’s body and lay next to her. Almost immediately Lindsey leaned over and kissed her juices from the girl’s chin.

“Do you think Momma will let us do this again?” Pariyat murmured sleepily.

Lindsey pulled the girl close, tenderly kissing her, nuzzling and caressing. They dozed quietly for some time before Lindsey heard the door open and light streamed in from the hall.

Chahna walked into the room and knelt next to her lover. Lindsey turned toward the older woman. Chahna leaned down and kissed her softly. She smiled to herself, tasting her daughter on the lips of her girlfriend. “I do not want to disturb you. I simply wanted to say goodnight.”

As her mother left them there, Pariyat stirred and rolled over, snuggling close to Lindsey.

“I wished for you,” the little girl whispered. “When I blew out the candles, I wished that you could be my girlfriend.”

Lindsey felt tears in her eyes. She kissed the child’s head, hugging her gently.

The End

By Bad Fred

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in October 2009 }

Megan looked very pretty as she furtively emerged from the side of the house. She was wearing the little black skirt I’d bought her. She had on a red halter top, and her short brown hair was pinned up so that her bangs hung around her face.

She walked quickly over to the car and slipped into the passenger seat.

“I’m pretty sure Mom and Dad didn’t see me,” she said, a bit breathless.

I noticed she had put on soft pink lipstick and done her nails the same color.

“Good,” I said. I put the car in gear, backed out of the driveway, and pulled away.

“You look very pretty,” I told her.

Her eyes were light green. They looked very clear and bright when we drove under a streetlamp.

“Thanks. You too.” She smiled at me, but appeared a bit nervous.

There was no way our parents would have approved of her outfit. Sneaking her out of the house was the only way to complete our little mission. She had asked for the skirt for her birthday. It was our “secret gift.” At the party, yesterday, I’d given her a pink unicorn doll, my “not secret gift.” She had pretended to like it.

“The movie starts at eight,” I said, “So hopefully they’re both asleep before we get home. Otherwise sneaking you back in might be tricky.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to get caught.”

When she had asked for the skirt, she’d also asked for another “secret gift.” She wanted me to take her out on a date. I was, needless to say, surprised. She said a “sister date” when I’d asked her what she meant.

I wasn’t sure what a “sister date” was exactly. I assumed she just meant a friendly night out at the movies. But then again… she knew I was a lesbian.

I hadn’t pressed the issue. It was her birthday, and I’d take her out on a date and make it the best I possibly could. If it meant anything more to her, well, we would find out.

I looked down at Megan’s legs, sticking out from the bottom of the skirt. She was a bit paler than me, with light freckles. Her left knee had a bright red bruise, I guess from soccer practice. She was young, just fifteen, but I couldn’t help thinking the black satin fabric laying across her thighs was very sexy.

She noticed me looking. “Watch the road,” she said, but she seemed pleased.

*****

We arrived at the theater. I parked the car and got out. Megan waited in her seat, smiling at me.

“You’ll open my door for me, right?” she asked.

This was her birthday gift. I wanted her to be happy. I went around to her side and opened her door for her. She took my hand as she got out and leaned into me. She seemed very nervous.

“Would you hold my hand?” she asked.

I was wearing a short red dress with heels. I was a few inches taller than her, and slender. She had an athletic build and moved very gracefully. I grasped her hand, and we walked together up to the theater.

I am quite sure we looked amazing.

My friend Jim was working the door that night. It was slow and his manager was not around, so he let us in without paying. After we were through the door, Megan broke away to go get some candy.

I caught Jim staring at her as she walked away. He noticed me, and looked away embarrassed.

I laughed quietly. “You can look, but don’t touch.”

“Meg, uh, looks different tonight.”

“Yeah, she does.”

He smiled, and said, “Man, I could get arrested just for thinking what I’m thinking now.”

I said nothing, but I knew exactly how he felt.

Her skirt fit her perfectly. I hadn’t really seen her clearly in the dim light outside, and I hadn’t actually seen her from behind… until now. When she got to the counter, she squatted down to pick out some candy. Her ass and legs looked amazing.

This was not the first time I’d felt lust for Megan. However, this was the first time it had felt so… serious. What if this really was a real date to her? I mean, she was acting coy, and a bit awkward, but she was fifteen. You’d expect her to be that way on a date.

On the other hand, maybe this was just a fun, weird night with her sister.

*****

We found seats in the auditorium. Megan insisted that we sit way in back, in a corner. The armrests were the type you could fold up, so she pulled up the one between us and leaned into me.

Yes, it was obvious she was taking this date thing a bit too seriously, and I felt a little awkward. However, I didn’t want to push her away, and to be quite honest, I liked that she was being so affectionate. Having her curled up against me felt nice. I decided she hadn’t crossed any lines yet. I put my arm around her and pulled her close.

The movie started. It was some modern vampire story where everyone was beautiful. It wasn’t my sort of thing, but I had decided to humor her and pretend that I liked it.

She handed me the box of candy, and whispered, “Here. Feed them to me.”

“Huh?”

“Take one and put it into my mouth.”

“Megan, that is a little weird.”

“Please?”

The theater was dark, and I could only see her silhouette. I felt her push closer to me. She was very… soft.

I took out a piece of candy and put it into her mouth. She wrapped her mouth around my fingers and sucked gently, swallowing the candy down.

“Megan!”

That was loud enough to be heard. I certainly didn’t want anyone to notice what was going on. I went on whispering. “Megan. That’s very weird.”

She drew away from me.

“Look,” I went on, “did you intend for this to be a… romantic date?”

She didn’t answer right away. I knew exactly what she was thinking. I mean, it was obvious what was going on. I couldn’t quite believe it, but there was no way to pretend it wasn’t happening. My sister was… well, I didn’t want to put it into words.

I knew she was afraid to say yes. If she did I might freak out, and that would end everything.

But I knew she wouldn’t say no.

“Yes, a little bit,” she whispered.

She sat still, tense, waiting for my response.

It is amazing how fast you can make a life changing decision. My impulse was to give her some speech about how I loved her, but that this was inappropriate. However, I couldn’t get the words out. When I thought about our date ending badly… I couldn’t say anything.

She was so soft, and so pretty. Even in the dim light, her slight, athletic figure looked amazing. I could see her hair silhouetted around her face.

The scene on the movie screen changed, lighting her up. Her green eyes stared at me. She sucked on her lower lip nervously.

I actually wanted her. I wanted her so badly.

I put my arm back around her and pulled her close again. I whispered in her ear, “I love you Megan, very much.” Then I took another piece of candy and put it into her mouth.

She suckled gently on my fingers. Her tongue and lips were so soft and wet. I thought about how they would feel later, against me, sucking and licking. I felt a thrill pass through me.

I was going to fuck my sister. I was going to fuck this sweet, beautiful girl. I had never felt so excited in my life.

*****

We didn’t finish the movie. I made her walk in front of me through the lobby. I wanted to see her ass again. My God, she was hot!

Jim watched us walk out. He gave me a curious look, and was checking out Megan again. I wonder if he had any idea what was about to happen to her.

*****

“How long have you felt this way?” I asked as we drove home.

“A while. Since we went to that summer dance.”

“And you waited until now?”

“Well, I mean, I assumed you would be horrified. But I kept wanting you so bad, and I had to try something.”

She was sitting up stiff, obviously very nervous. She gave me a sheepish look. I reached over and stroked her body.

“Relax, sweetie,” I said, “I’m very happy you did. I mean, yeah I’m a little freaked out, but this is going to be very good.”

We got to a stop sign and I leaned over and kissed her mouth. She was surprised, but parted her lips and leaned into me, kissing me back passionately.

“Do you know much about sex?” I asked.

“I kissed a boy once, but we didn’t do anything.”

“Have you ever masturbated?”

“No!” she said, shocked.

“Really? You can tell me. I do it sometimes.”

She didn’t answer.

“Okay, have you ever had an orgasm?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Trust me, you’d know.”

“So, here is what we do,” I went on, “When we get home I’m going to sneak you into my room and lock the door. We’ll start just kissing. Will that be okay?”

“Yes.” She looked so pretty when she said that.

“So, we can just kiss if you want. But I’m going to want to do more. So after a while I’ll start… doing things to your body, with my mouth and stuff. It’ll feel really good. Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“So don’t be nervous. You should just relax and let it feel good. It might take awhile, but don’t worry about me. Fine?”

“You don’t want me to do anything to you?”

I smiled. “I want you to do lots of things to me, sweetie, but first we take care of you. After a while it will start feeling really, intensely good. Just relax. Pretty soon you’ll have an orgasm. Then you’ll understand everything.”

“Then I get to do you?” she asked.

“Yeah. Then you get to do me.”

*****

When we got home our parents were already in their room, so it was easy to sneak Megan into the house. She came into my room and I locked the door. She hugged me and we kissed deeply. She pressed her tongue into my mouth, and sucked in my breath. I rubbed her ass, pulling her skirt up and feeling her soft panties.

I turned her around and pushed her down on the bed. I pulled her skirt up, then pulled her panties up into the crack of her ass, and kissed her butt cheeks. She moaned softly.

I wanted to take her so badly at that point. I wanted to pull her panties aside and eat her pussy and asshole, but I stopped myself. She was such a kind, sweet girl, and I didn’t think her first time should be wild or kinky. I turned her back around and kissed her again.

She lay back on the bed passively, and looked up at me licking her lips. She reached up, slowly, and rubbed my chest. I felt her fingers brush against my nipples. She kept rubbing, and watching the look of pleasure on my face.

“That feels nice,” I said, as I pulled the top of my dress down. “You can suck on them, if you want.”

She sat up and helped me take off my bra.

We kissed deeply again, and then she took my nipple into her mouth and sucked gently. I ran my fingers through her hair, and stroked her back. Her mouth felt great on my tits, and I was going crazy with desire. I almost pushed her down again, but I held back. I wanted to take my time, and make this wonderful for her.

After she sucked my tits for a while, I helped her pull her top off, and did the same to her. Her chest was still small, but her nipples were soft, pink, and slightly dimpled. They were so wonderful. I sucked and licked each one, then kissed her mouth again.

Just when I was about to go crazy, she made the next move. She reached up my dress, rubbing her fingers slowly up my leg toward my pussy. She watched me, seeing if I’d stop her.

I smiled and spread my legs, just enough so she could reach. She gently stroked my soft panties, rubbing her finger up and down over my cunt. I felt a shock of pleasure pass through me.

“Megan, that feels really great, but I wanted to do you first.”

She gave me a devious look and said, “Plans can change. Can I eat you?”

She looked so pretty and eager. I wasn’t going to say no.

“Yes. If you want.”

“I just lick, right?”

“And suck too. But yeah, it isn’t difficult.”

She pulled my panties down and spread my legs and gave my pussy a long, slow, tentative lick. It felt amazing.

“Oh God Meg, that is really good.”

I pulled the hem of my dress up higher, so I could see her face. She looked up at me passionately, and kissed my clit, sucking gently on it. Her green eyes were… well, I don’t really have the words. I felt tingles of pleasure spread up through my body.

I let out a long deep moan.

She licked me again. “Should I stick my fingers in?”

“Please, yes,” I gasped, “Two would be nice.”

She rubbed two of her fingers up and down my pussy, getting them moist, then slowly pushed them into my hole, pulling them in and out slowly.

She continued to suck on my clit. I was in ecstasy.

“Do that a little faster, please. Oh God fuck I’m going to come.”

I looked down at her pretty face with her mouth wrapped around my cunt, and I couldn’t hold back. A wave of ecstasy passed over my body. I could feel my hips bucking up. Megan grabbed me tight around the thighs to keep her face planted to my pussy. I shook my head back and forth, as several more waves passed over me. I couldn’t think. It was almost too much. I think I cried out.

I could see her there, still holding on and licking. I would have begged her to stop, it was just too intense, but I couldn’t form words.

I came again. I groaned, “Oh God fuck,” again. I was gasping for air.

I finally got enough composure to gently push her head back from my cunt.

“Oh God oh God oh God.” I just started laughing, it was so good. “Oh God, Megan. Oh fuck.”

She sat back, quite surprised at the intensity of my orgasm. “Please kiss me,” I gasped out.

We embraced, and I kissed her deeply.

“Was it good?” she asked.

“You’re kidding, right?” I had to catch my breath again. “That was the most amazing fucking thing I’ve ever felt.”

Seriously, it was.

I had to rest. I couldn’t move in any coordinated way. My body still tingled, and I gasped a few times as my muscles tightened up, as if my orgasm wasn’t entirely finished.

She rubbed my pussy some more.

“Please… gently, sweetie.”

We kept kissing, and gradually I calmed down.

“It’s your turn now,” I said.

She went to pull her panties down and I stopped her. “Leave them on for a bit, they’re so soft and pretty.”

I pushed her skirt up and wrapped my mouth around her clit, through the sheer fabric. She let out a gentle little moan.

I sucked a bit harder, and pushed her panties a bit into her hole with my thumb.

“Mmmmm. That feels nice,” she said, staring at me intensely, her lips slightly parted.

Then I pulled her panties off and pushed her skirt up around her tummy. Her pussy was thin and delicately shaped. It was light pink, with just a hint of brown hair surrounding it. I spread it open, and ran my tongue gently up from her hole to her clit.

She squirmed a bit and tensed up.

“Relax, sweetie. You don’t have to do anything but lay back and feel good.”

I licked around her hole until she started to get very wet, then plunged into her, kind of scooping up a bit of her juices on my tongue. I licked up to her clit, then pulled away slowly and let a thin strand of pussy juice stretch between my tongue and her pussy.

She saw that and smiled. “I’ve never been so wet.”

“You taste very good.”

I licked more, circling my tongue around her clit. I slipped a finger in. She was so wet it went in easily.

She was moaning more insistently now. Her eyes were closed. She would briefly open them, every few seconds, and look down at me devouring her, then close them again with a look of rapture on her face.

I started fingering and licking her with a rhythmic motion. I felt her trying to relax, like I told her, but I could tell it was getting close. She kept tensing up, and writhing a bit, before relaxing again.

Suddenly her breathing got very heavy, and she let out a long, deep, soothing moan. I felt her whole body tighten up.

“Oh God! Is this it?” she let out.

She looked at me intensely, seemed to relax for a second, then it slammed her back into the bed. “Oh, fuck,” she moaned out. I kept sucking on her clit, just as she’d done for me, and let the waves pass over her. It seemed to last forever. The she relaxed, and gasped, “Oh my God. Oh my God that felt great.”

She laughed, still panting, and got the biggest grin on her face I’ve ever seen. “Oh wow. Is it always like that?”

I got up and lay next to her, putting my arms around her and kissing her face and eyes. “Yes, my sweet Megan, it is always like that.”

“Can we do it again?”

“Yeah. Now?”

“Can we? Please?”

We did, several times each. The later orgasms, of course, were not as intense as the first, her final one only getting a long gentle moan from her.

She curled up next to me. We were both too tired to even kiss anymore, only managing to brush our fumbling lips against each other.

I led her, half asleep, quietly to her room, and put her into her bed. I curled next to her while she drifted off to sleep. Then I gently kissed her cheek, and whispered into her ear, “I love you, Megan. That was the best date I’ve ever had.”

She must have heard me, because she smiled.

The End

By Misty Meadow

Upstairs, Kelly takes me in her arms and kisses me, her tongue deep in my mouth. I melt, my knees feeling weak. She puts her hand down between my legs, pressing her fingers against the silk covering my cunt and rubbing up and down.

“I love the feeling of smooth silk on my cunt,” I tell her. “Let me feel yours.” I don’t wait for permission before putting my hand between her thighs and we both stand there, masturbating each other through our panties.

Then Kelly slides hers off and falls back on the bed, her legs spread invitingly. I sit beside her. “Let’s talk first,” I say. She looks disappointed for a second but then nods at me.

“You like Holly, don’t you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“What do you get up to during gym lessons?”

“The best is before and after the lesson. I watch them changing, taking off their dresses and pulling their little knickers down. Holly is the best of all because she puts on a deliberate display for me, standing naked, letting me see her cunt, until she has to put her leotard on, and then after the lesson, I always manage to be close to her when she takes it off, and Holly takes her sweet time getting dressed. She’s always last to leave the changing room and I always hope for a few seconds alone with her, but the next class always comes in before anything can happen.”

“So she does have a crush on you?”

“Yes, but don’t tell her I told you.”

Now I come to the crux of the matter. “If you were given a free hand, what would you like to do to my daughter?”

Her face shows surprise, then lights up. “I’d do anything she’d want me to, anything that would make her happy. What’s this leading to?”

“Be specific. I wanna hear you say it.”

“Well, I’d kiss her on the lips and then her nipples and then all over her body.”

“Including her cunt?”

“If she’d let me, yes. And maybe even rim her little brown rosebud.”

“Would you touch her?”

“Oh, yes, I’d caress her from head to toe and yes, I’d finger her cunt, and maybe gently probe inside. I’d be watching her reaction and if she showed any reluctance, I’d immediately back off.”

“And what would you let her do to you?”

“To me? Cuddle, kiss, squeeze my tits and nipples, finger my cunt, suck on my clit, anything at all. I’d tell her to do anything she wanted to, absolutely anything, however kinky.”

“You forgot one thing. You’d want to make her come.”

“Is she old enough?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to find out.”

“So you’re gonna let me…”

Before she can finish, I interrupt. “There’s one condition. First you have to let me suck on your gorgeous clit and make you come.”

She holds her arms out invitingly, but I slide off the bed, kneel between her legs and pull her knickers off, burying my face in them and inhaling deeply. She puts her hands on the back of my head and pulls me into her. My lips press hard against hers then my tongue searches out her clit and fences with it for a few seconds, then I take it in my mouth and suck hard. It’s like giving a blow job to a little dick. I suck in and out rapidly and hear her start to gasp and groan and feel her hips pushing up against me. I stretch my arms up to reach her tits, fondling them and pinching her nipples tightly. Her groans become little cries, then long hard moans until suddenly she screams, thrusting her hips high and clamping her thighs round my head. I give one last long suck, knowing she’s coming, and hold it in my mouth until I feel her relax.

“Oh, Jesus fuck! Holy shit! You fucking gorgeous bitch, I’ve never come that hard before. Now let me do it to you.”

“Oh, no,” I say, wiping my wet face with the discarded panties. “Now you have to do it to Holly.”

Her flushed face lights up with joy. “Why are you doing this?”

“I want Holly to be gay. I know I don’t have any control over her sexual orientation, but it won’t hurt if she knows the delights of lesbian sex. I’m putting her in your hands. I trust you, Kelly.” I stand up. “I’m going to get her. I may be a few minutes. Leave this door open and just lie there, like that, legs nice and wide, hands behind your head, okay?”

She nods. I take a last look at her, spread-eagled on my bed, her swollen cunt lips dripping with juice. The smell of sex is overpowering. I leave and go out onto the landing.

I knock on Holly’s door. There’s a pause, then the door opens a crack and Maia pokes her head round it. “Can I come in? I need to talk to you guys.”

There’s another pause with some whispering and then she opens the door wide and I step in. Holly is lying on the bed, her panties still on, but with the bow untied and the front spread wide open. Morgan is sitting on the far side of her and Maia regains her seat on this side.

“What were you guys doing to my daughter?” I ask giving them an encouraging smile.

“They were feeling me all over,” Holly says, grinning.

“Who pulled the bow this time?”

“We both did!” crowed M & M.

“And I bet you touched her muffin, you bad, bad girls. I’m gonna have to spank you, but not tonight. Next time you come over, I’m gonna take you both over my knee, lift your dresses, pull your knickers down and spank your bare bums.” They giggle.

“Promise?” they say.

“She will,” Holly says. “She does it to me. It’s kinda fun.”

“Listen, my darling,” I say, “Kelly is on my bed waiting for you. I know you like her.”

“We all do,” says Morgan. Maia nods in agreement.

“And she likes me,” Holly says. “In the changing room when we have gym, she watches us getting dressed and undressed, so I give her a little encouragement.”

“A strip tease?”

“Sort of.”

“Of course you do. That’s who you are, you little tease.” I lean over and tie the little pink bow. “Kelly can have the pleasure of pulling it again,” I say. “Go to her, Holly. Let her be nice to you, my darling.”

She eagerly leaps off the bed and goes to the door, turns and says, “Thank you, Mom.” And then she’s gone.

I lie down in the space she vacated with the girls either side of me. “Now,” I say, “You have to do to me all the things you were doing to Holly. It’s a rule.” They giggle.

“Your knickers don’t have a bow,” Morgan observes.

“Well, you’ll just have to take them off, but first, give me your hand.” I take her wrist and guide her hand down between my legs. “See how nice and smooth the silk is. Ooh, that feels nice!”

“They’re wet,” Morgan says, lifting her hand to her face and sniffing. “And they smell of sex.”

Maia takes the opportunity to put her own hand down there and caresses me through the wet silk. Then she boldly pulls one leg of the tap pants aside and gazes at my dripping wet cunt. “You have such big floppy lips, Misty. Are our cunts gonna be like that?”

“Exactly.”

“Let’s get a look,” says Morgan, and I lift my hips as she tugs the panties down my legs, takes them off my feet and hold them up for inspection, then buries her face in them. I’m amazed that a little girl of eleven could be excited by knicker sniffing, but then again, these two little darlings seem to be quite precocious.

“Did you kiss Holly’s cunt?” I ask.

“We were going to, but you interrupted us,” says Maia.

“Did she kiss yours?”

“No,” says Morgan. “We were too busy playing with the bow and just touching her cunt with our fingers. She really liked it. We wanted to save the kissing until she got really excited so that then she’d want to kiss ours.”

“Have you two kissed each other’s muffins?”

They laugh. “Of course. That’s what all the fuss was about in the school bathroom. We were pretending to be lesbians, licking each other. It was so fun.”

“I think we are lesbians already,” says Maia. “Cunts are so exciting.”

“What about tits? D’you like my tits? They’re kinda small, but they don’t droop and I never need a bra. Look at my nipples, so nice and big. You can touch them if you like.”

In a flash, they’re all over me, caressing my breasts, squeezing them gently, sucking and nibbling on my nipples and I lie back, drowning in pleasure.

“Kelly has tits like mine,” I say. “I imagine Holly’s sucking on them right now.”

“Holly has a huge crush on Miss Lane,” Morgan announces.

“And Miss Lane has the hots for her,” says Maia. “She always watches when Holly gets changed for gym. Her eyes practically pop out of her head.”

“Does she watch you guys, too?”

“She watches everyone, but Holly’s her favorite.”

I try to picture a whole class of eleven year old girls getting undressed, sliding their little knickers down before pulling on their leotards and creating perfect camel toes. I can feel my cunt dripping.

“Now, girls, scoot down the bed and get a nice close look at my cunt, and then you can pretend I’m Holly and do whatever you like to me.”

Grinning, they reposition themselves, and then I feel little fingers touching me, exploring the folds of my cunt, parting my lips and probing inside. My excitement is building. This is the first time I’ve let my cunt be touched by a little girl since I was a teenager, and now I have two of them. My inner paedophile is raging!

“Who wants to make me come?”

“Me! Me!” they squeal.

“Maia, you go first. Touch my clit. Oh my God, you’re setting me on fire. Take it between your first finger and thumb and squeeze it. Now, kiss it! Oh, yes, do that with your tongue. Pheeew! I’m gonna explode! Put your lips round it and suck hard. Aaaagh, I’m gonna come. Oh fuck, Maia, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

My orgasm explodes, waves of delicious shock coursing through my whole body. Maia keeps her lips on my clit, still happily sucking away until I relax and lift her head from between my legs. “Oh, my sweet darling, you made me come. It was incredible. I was in heaven!”

Morgan looks on, clearly jealous that her friend is getting all the attention.

“Now it’s your turn, Morgan. I want you to see how many fingers you can get inside me, okay?” I look down to see her push two, then three fingers into me, her palm uppermost. “Curl your fingers,” I say.

She touches my G spot and I let out a gasp. I know I’m gonna come again soon. Then she pushes the little finger in alongside the others, pushing her hand in and out and rotating it. Her whole hand is dripping with my cunt juice.

“Fold your thumb into your palm and push your hand into me,” I tell her.

“My whole hand? Isn’t it gonna hurt?” One of the endearing things about little girls is that their hands are so small.

“No. Push as hard as you like. If a baby can come out of there, your hand will go in. Go on, push!” I’m so wet that no lubricant is needed. “Push harder!”

Suddenly, her little hand slides right inside me up to her wrist. She gasps with astonishment and I groan with ecstasy. “Make a fist, Morgan, oh yes, that feels so good! Pump it in and out. Fuck me! Fuck me!”

Maia’s eyes are huge as she watches her friend’s hand disappearing into my cunt, past the wrist, halfway up her arm. My orgasm builds again. “I’m gonna come, my sweet darling, keep fucking me! Don’t stop until I tell you.”

Once again, the wave of lust breaks over me, sending me into outer space, drowned in pure love for these two little angels. I let Morgan keep fist fucking me for the ten or fifteen seconds it takes for my orgasm to subside, then I tell her that it’s over, she’s sent me to heaven and now I’m exhausted.

She gently pulls her hand out with a slurping noise and looks at it with awe, then looks disbelievingly at my cunt. I lie there, my stretched cunt gaping as they stare at it and I let them look, revelling in their attention.

Morgan looks at Maia. “Wow, we both made her come! How cool it that.”

“That’s what I like about little girls, you have such small hands. Now it’s time for you girls to come. Will you do something for me? I wanna watch you lying head to toe, licking each other.”

Their faces light up and I move over to the edge of the bed to give them room. They lie end to end on their sides and lift their upper legs to provide access, then their heads are buried and I can see little tongues probing and licking, little fingers assisting and darling little cunts being assaulted and surrendering.

I prop myself up on one elbow, gazing at them, realizing that yes, I’m gay, but now I’ve become a total paedophile, that from now on I’ll always want my sex partners to be younger, certainly not older than early teens, perhaps, twelve, eleven, or even ten. How young will I go? I don’t care how young — as long as she can be sexually aroused, I wanna be the one to teach her the thrills of girl sex. Then I think of Holly.

The girls are preoccupied with each other as I slide off the bed and slip out onto the landing. I quietly open my bedroom door and peer inside. My heart misses a beat!

Holly has straddled Kelly’s head and is sitting on her face, her own body lying on that of the gym teacher, her fingers playing with her swollen cunt lips and enormous clit. From time to time, she lowers her head to lick the juice dripping down her perineum and suck on the engorged clit.

My girl looks up and sees me. I don’t see any shock or shame or embarrassment on her face, just perfect happiness. I put my finger to my lips to signal her to stay quiet and I sit on the side of the bed, careful not to transmit my presence to Kelly.

I watch for a few minutes, feeling my excitement build, until Holly sits up and grins at me. I take her wrist, carefully move her hand away from Kelly’s cunt and replace it with my own fingers. I use all my gay expertise to arouse my daughter’s lover, exploring, stroking, pinching, probing, retreating and advancing, every thing I know to stimulate her. Kelly is grunting and groaning like a porn star, but I know she’s not faking it.

Suddenly her hips thrust upwards and I take my hand away and Holly immediately takes over, rubbing her fingertip round Kelly’s huge swollen clit. Kelly lets out a long, high cry, then slumps, her body almost lifeless. Holly lifts herself off Kelly’s face and rolls sideways, then swivels round to lie beside her, her head on her chest.

“Jesus, Holly, you just made me come!” Then she opens her eyes and sees me. “How long have you been there?” she asks.

“Couple of minutes. Hope you don’t mind. I just wanted to see how Holly was getting on.”

She laughs. “Holly was getting on just fine, the little sex fiend. She can’t get enough of my cunt.”

Holly grins. “And you can’t get enough of mine. She made me come, Mom. She licked my cunt until I came, then licked it some more.” She lifts her head and looks at Kelly adoringly. “I love you,” she says. “I’m totally head over heels in love with you.”

Kelly hugs her. “And I love you too, my darling.”

“How are M & M doing?” Holly asks.

“Lying head to tail, the last time I saw them, furiously eating each other’s cunts. They’ve decided that they’re lesbians already.”

“Me, too, Mom. I’m a lesbian.” There’s a shit-eating grin on her face. “From now on, I’m gonna lick every cunt I can get my hands on.”

“Including your mom’s?” asks Kelly, archly.

Holly hesitates. I help her out. “It would be a way of showing how much you love me.”

“But I love Kelly!”

“I wouldn’t be jealous,” says Kelly. “I can’t be with you all the time, my sweet.”

I stand, then kneel back on the bed, swinging my leg over both of them, my cunt just inches from my daughter’s face. “All you have to do is say ‘no’.”

She gazes at my soaking wet cunt, inhales through her nose, then smiles at me. Her hands go on my hips and she pulls me down onto her darling angel face.

The End

By Misty Meadow

I’m picking my daughter Holly up from school and looking for a parking space when she comes hurtling out from the school gate and streaks across the road without looking. Horns honk and tires screech.

She flings the car door open and leaps inside, excitement written all over her face. I’m about to start a lecture on pedestrian traffic safety when she bursts out, “Guess what! M & M were suspended today ‘cos they were caught in a stall in the bathroom with no clothes on and a girl in the next stall heard them and they were saying all sorts of stuff about undressing and fingering each other and she reported them and…” All this comes out in one breath. She’s referring to her two classmates Maia and Morgan, inseparable best friends.

“Hold on,” I say, pulling out into congested traffic. “Slow down. Start at the beginning and tell me what happened.”

“All I know is that this girl reported what she’d overheard and M & M were taken out of class and then we heard they’d been suspended. I haven’t had a chance to talk to either of them yet.”

“Don’t get too excited, Holly. To me it just sounds like two young girls having a bit of naughty fun in the bathroom. I did that sort of thing at your age. Don’t make it a bigger thing than it already is.”

“But the whole school’s talking about it! When they come back to school, everyone’s gonna be laughing at them.”

“Except you.”

“Exactly! Except me. They’re both my best friends and I feel so bad for them.”

“When we get home, you can call them. You can invite them to your birthday party on Saturday.”

“My birthday’s not until next month.”

“So, we’ll bring it forward, just to show them we appreciate them and we’re still good friends. Who else do you wanna invite?”

“Miss Lane.”

Oh, this is perfect! She’s Holly’s gymnastics coach and from what Holly tells me, she’s probably gay and I’m guessing Holly has a crush on her. To be honest, I’ve been interested in Miss Lane for some time now, but never had a chance to talk to her for more than a few minutes.

“Fine. We’ll call her, too. Is it true what they say about her?”

“Oh, yes, I’m pretty sure. She’s always touching us, positioning our limbs and bodies correctly in the gym class. It all looks accidental, but she’s brushed my crotch more than once. Oh, Mom, this is gonna be so cool!”

*****

Everyone hates paedophiles (well not me, I’m hardly in a position to). Most people think of paedophiles as dirty old men in raincoats who hang around outside the school gates with bags of candy in their hands, enticing young girls into their windowless vans and coercing them to have sex, and if the child is unwilling, violently force them to perform ugly acts of depravity. I don’t think that’s quite an accurate picture. Those creeps are the exception and yes, kids need to be protected from them, but there’s a bigger picture. We shouldn’t forget women paedophiles.

Originally the word meant “lover of children,” and in that sense, paedophilia’s widespread, maybe universal, an admirable condition, to be encouraged. But the word’s taken on a sinister connotation, giving rise to images of molested youngsters, damaged for life, so now paedophilia comes somewhere between war crimes and genocide on the acceptability scale.

Almost all little girls are cute in the way that puppy dogs and koala bears are cute which triggers in us a desire to protect them, hug them, kiss them, reassure them, tell them that they’re beautiful and loved, rub their bellies and scratch their ears… sorry, that’s puppies again. But sometimes the wires get crossed, and a child’s cuteness, in addition to arousing protective instincts, arouses sexual urges. Maybe it’s a kind of synesthesia, the blending of two senses, like people who hear colors and taste shapes. The sexual urge is perfectly fine as long as one doesn’t act on it, but if the arousal is enough to overpower one’s restraint, then we have a problem.

But there must be millions of men and women out there who see school letting out, with hordes of young teens and preteens streaming out of the school gates in their uniforms and white socks, and who sigh with longing, but never act on their feelings. Most of them would tell you that the thought of forcing themselves on a kid is horrifying and that all they want is to make a child happy. This might come across as the excuse of an accused offender, but what if it’s true? What if there’s a silent majority out there whose secret desire is to arouse children and who are never discovered? What if the number of underage boys and girls who have sex with an adult and enjoy it and thus never talk about it, is huge? There’s no way to know.

I’m not a paedophile exclusively. My brief marriage was disaster, even though the sex was hot. He was violent and I soon got rid of him and was lucky enough to keep custody of his kid, my darling Holly, now eleven years old. So, strictly speaking, she’s my stepdaughter and I love her to bits. And I’m finished with men.

My obsession with young girls started with little Vicky, a neighbour’s kid whom I babysat when she was ten and I was thirteen. She seduced me, signalling her desire for intimacy by showing off her underwear in so many lewd ways, that she might as well have used semaphore. I took her into the bathroom and was only slightly surprised when she demanded that I get in the shower with her to “soap her back” and then insisted that I lather her all over, including the naughty bits.

“Do it again!” she begged after I’d pushed my soapy finger inside her. Then she proceeded to wash my cunt in exactly the same way. She was the first girl to ever make me come. Over the summer we repeated our adventure several times until, to my dismay, the family moved away. She was in tears when we finally said goodbye, and she never told anyone about how her hymen came to be ruptured.

Kids have sex with kids. Didn’t you? Does that make us all paedophiles? Remember the words of Juliette’s father: “…she hath not yet reached her thirteenth birthday.” Romeo couldn’t have been much older, but you don’t hear audiences at the Globe yelling, “Hey, Romeo, you fucking child molester! Get off the fucking stage!”

Think about this for a moment. Is paedophilia now where homosexuality was a century ago — illegal, immoral, unnatural and deserving of the most extreme punishment? So, does the future hold a golden age in which having consensual sex with an underage person is considered perfectly normal, like gay marriage has become?

*****

Holly and I went shopping in Oxford Street for a party dress for her. On the way home, on the tube, a woman sitting opposite was staring at Holly. Guessing why, I looked sideways at my daughter and sure enough, there she was, sprawled as usual with her legs carelessly spread. The woman had a delicious view up her dress.

I wasn’t surprised. Holly is an incurable exhibitionist. I was the same at her age so it doesn’t bother me, in fact I feel a little thrill when she acts lewdly in front of strangers. Exiting the tube station, I mentioned it and we giggled together like two naughty little girls.

We’ve settled on a simple black dress in a kind of wispy material which would be see-through were it not for the slip that lines it. It would be nice to see her in it without the slip. It’s deliciously short, showing off her slender thighs and it flares out revealingly when she pirouettes. White ankle socks add a “little girl” touch. We also bought a pair of pink silk knickers, split down the front from waist to crotch and tied with a little bow. She looks adorable.

Maia and Morgan arrive, followed minutes later by Miss Lane, who’s dressed in white linen slacks and a cream silk blouse through which I can see a lacy camisole. She looks even more attractive than I remember.

“I’m Misty,” I say, shaking her hand and eyeing her up and down, “we met at the PTA.”

“I remember. Call me Kelly. Hear that, girls? We’re Kelly and Misty this afternoon. You can be formal on Monday, back at school. That’s a nice dress, Holly.”

I know exactly what’ll happen next. Holly pirouettes in a full circle, reverses and spins the other way. Her dress arcs out and reveals her naughty pink knickers beneath. “Oh, what gorgeous knickers,” says her teacher, grinning. “Who gets to pull the little bow?”

“That’s up to Holly,” I say.

“What color knickers are you wearing, M & M?” Kelly asks Holly’s friends.

Without hesitation, they lift up the fronts of their sun dresses. Maia’s are pale blue and Morgan’s are plain white cotton. My pulse quickens. When little girls lift their dresses, it makes my knees go weak.

“What about yours?” they ask us. It’s a fair question. I lift up my skirt and show everyone my white nylon almost see-through knickers. Not to be outdone, Kelly unfastens her slacks at the side and lets them fall. She’s wearing white silk tap pants with lace trimmed legs that match the lace on the camisole I can see through her blouse. She looks tastefully sexy.

“I might as well leave them off,” she says, folding her slacks over the back of a chair. We’re getting off to a good start.

We go into the living room. Presents are given, and soon the girls are sitting on the floor surrounded by wrapping paper, oohing and aahing at the gifts, while Kelly and I relax on the couch. When three eleven-year-old girls in skirts are squatting on the carpet preoccupied with something, you can be sure that you’ll get to see plenty of underwear.

“Aren’t they just adorable!” Kelly breathes, staring at the display.

When the gifts have been thoroughly inspected by all three girls, they dash upstairs to Holly’s room and slam the door.

“So tell me,” I ask Kelly, “what was the suspension all about?”

“M & M were fingering each other in the bathroom stall and were overheard. They were quoted as saying, ‘Oh, that feels nice,’ and ‘Push it in further’, and ‘Pretend I’m a boy and kiss me’. I suspect they’re no strangers to pussy touching.”

“Wow, they’re only eleven.”

“When I was their age I was up to all sorts of naughty stuff, just like that. Weren’t you?”

“Well, I had a lot of sexual fantasies, but I never got to touching until I was thirteen.” I tell her about little Vicky, the memory still fresh in my mind.

“Oh, you bad girl!” she says, mockingly. “So you like young girls, too?”

“Little girls, yes, but big girls as well.”

A gentle smile lights up her face. This might be the moment to make a move on her, but I hear the girls running down the stairs. Never mind, we can continue this conversation later.

“Time to swim, guys,” I call. “Last one in’s a rotten egg.”

“We don’t have our swim suits,” Morgan protests.

“We don’t bother with swim suits in this house. We’re gonna skinny dip.”

“Cool!” say Maia and Morgan in unison, their faces lighting up.

The kids dash out across the patio to the pool in the middle of the lawn and Kelly and I follow at a more leisurely pace, wineglasses in our hands. We sit on the patio steps and watch the girls undress. I’d have liked to see them strip off slowly, one at a time, but in under five seconds, they’re all naked, pulling their ankle socks off, leaving dresses and knickers scattered all over the lawn. They all jump into the pool, swim to the deep end and cluster in a group, laughing and giggling.

I look at Kelly, stand, drop my short skirt and pull my cotton tank over my head. I wait for a beat, letting her look at me, then slide my nylon knickers down and step out of them. Her gaze is riveted on me. I watch her unbutton her blouse, take it off, and let the shoulder straps of her camisole fall from her shoulders. She pushes it down, together with her tap pants, in one smooth movement and steps out of them. Her pussy, like mine, is perfectly shaved. Her tits are small and perfectly shaped, with no need for a bra.

She grins, saying, “There’s not a pubic hair between the five of us.”

She takes me by the hand and together we jump into the pool. She does a few laps then we all gather in the middle of the pool. That’s when the fun begins. The girls invent a game where they swim underwater between our legs as we stand facing each other. I feel arms and legs and hands brushing against my inner thighs and little thrills run through my body. We move farther apart with each pass until we’re well spaced and the girls can no longer manage to stay under long enough. Then they go off to the deep end again and huddle, whispering to each other.

Kelly and I stand in the shallow end, then she hoists herself up on to the pool edge and sits, leaning back on her elbows, legs invitingly spread. I stand, waist deep, in front of her, as close as I dare, admiring her slender body. Whether deliberate or not, her pose is quite lewd. She sees me staring at her pussy with its big floppy lips and amazingly large clit. It must be almost half an inch long.

I have an almost irresistible urge to press my face between her thighs, but manage to control myself. She lifts her heels and puts them on the drain that runs round the pool at the waterline and lets her legs fall open.

“Do you like my cunt?” she asks, bluntly. Most girls would call it a pussy, but the word ‘cunt’ has a nice crude ring to it.

I lean in to inspect it more closely. “You have an amazing clit.”

She grins. “Wanna touch it?”

I glance over my shoulder to where the girls are still huddled. “They might see.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that. When I was doing laps, I could see that they were touching each other underwater. That’s why they were giggling.”

“Wow! Really? My girl, too?”

“All of them.”

I look again to see the girls preoccupied, and reach out with both hands to spread her lips, revealing a bright pink cavern. Then I take her clit between my forefinger and thumb and gently pinch it. She lets out a little gasp of pleasure. I look over my shoulder again and see Holly swimming towards me, so I let go and step back.

“Mom!” she says, surfacing beside us. “Were you touching Miss Lane’s… sorry… Kelly’s cunt?”

Her teacher doesn’t seem shocked by Holly’s use of the ‘C’ word. I dodge the question. M & M swim over to us.

“I’m getting cold,” I say, hoisting myself up on the edge and standing. All three girls stare up at us with expressions of… well not quite adoration, but certainly with interest. Kelly stands up and together we collect all the discarded garments from the grass. We go over to where the table and chaise lounges are, in the shade of a big tree. I put the dresses on the table and carefully fold Maia’s pale blue knickers and Morgan’s white ones, pressing them against my cheek. Kelly laughs. We start to dry ourselves with big bath towels.

“So you appreciate knickers too, huh?” She picks up Holly’s pink ones and holds them up. “Someone pulled the bow, look.” The split front gapes wide, the two ribbons hanging down. “I wonder who it was.”

We sit and sip our wine until the girls climb out of the pool and I fold Holly in a towel and rub her body all over, pressing my hand between her legs. I no longer care if M & M see, we’re all complicit. Kelly does the same, first with Morgan, then with Maia, her own hand lingering between the girls’ thighs, until they step away and sit on their respective lounges.

“So, girls,” Kelly asks, “Who pulled the bow?”

M & M look at each other, grinning.

“We both did,” says Maia. “We each took an end of the ribbon and slowly pulled it until the bow came undone and then we spread her knickers open and looked at her cunt.” Is Holly blushing, or is it my imagination?

“Oh, my God!” Kelly breathes. “That must’ve been so exciting. I wish I’d been there.”

“We could re-enact it.” I can hardly believe I’m saying that. It’s one thing to have my own preteen daughter fooling about with other kids, but Kelly is a grown woman, a lesbian to boot and I cold be starting something that might get out of hand.

I expect Holly to be reluctant, a bit shy perhaps, but she eagerly agrees. So I pick up her knickers and carefully tie the bow, making sure the two edges are firmly together, then hold them open for her to step into. She slowly pulls them up her thighs.

“Let Kelly pull the bow,” she says. “Maia, Morgan, you guys have had your turn.”

“Yeah,” I agree. “Go for it, Kelly!”

She drops to her knees in front of my daughter and we all stare as she slowly tugs on the bow. We watch breathlessly as the knot slowly comes undone and Kelly reaches with her fingers and spreads the gap wide, revealing my little girl’s cunt in all its glory. Holly smiles at us, then as Kelly leans back out of the way, she spreads the gap even wider with her own fingertips, gazing down at herself, then just as we think we’ve seen it all, she spreads her cunt lips, deliberately displaying the pinkness inside. Kelly sits back on her heels, transfixed.

Holly looks up at her. “D’you like my cunt?”

“Oh, my God, it’s heavenly!” Kelly gasps, her face flushed with excitement.

Holly steps over to me and I carefully re-tie the bow, closing the gates of heaven. “Always leave them wanting more,” I whisper to her.

“Jesus, I nearly came,” Kelly murmurs to me. “It’s no good denying it, I think your little girl’s adorable.”

I lean in close and quietly ask, “Have you ever touched her in the gym class? Not that I’m complaining, but you’d be taking a helluva risk.”

“Oh, the occasional accidental touch, nothing that could be construed as inappropriate.” She keeps her voice low, so the girls can’t hear.

“They don’t mind?”

“No. I think some of them have crushes on me.”

I feel a surge of jealousy. “Does Holly?”

“If she wants to tell you, then she will.”

“If you ever think about retiring, let me know. I want your job.”

She laughs.

I pick up Maia’s blue knickers and hold them for her to step into, but Morgan gets there first. “Maia and I are gonna swap knickers,” she says.

“We are?” says Maia. “Okay, if you want to.”

I pull the knickers up Morgan’s legs and then hold her knickers for Maia. She pulls them all the way up to form a distinctive camel toe. Then I take Kelly’s silk tap pants and look at her. She reads my mind and nods. I pull them on. All four of them make appreciative noises. Kelly tells me I can keep her tap pants as a gift, then takes my knickers and dons them.

“You’re the only one wearing your own knickers,” I say to Holly.

She murmurs something which might be, “Not for long,” then adds, “Let’s go to my room.” The girls run indoors and upstairs.

“While they’re having fun, we’ll go to my room,” I say, taking Kelly’s hand.

Continue on to Part Two