Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Passing Cloud

The rest of the day was a blur of warm and happy thoughts. I was genuinely excited about getting home and doing this new game with my sister.

After school, as we walked back, Kathy told me that she had spoken with Maria about her cousin and what I had said.

True to her word, Maria hadn’t let me down. She confirmed everything I had said to Kathy, and in fact had insisted that she tried being tied up and ‘tickled’. She had virtually instructed Kathy to let me do what I wanted.

I couldn’t hide my delight as I skipped along. My huge grin betraying my excitement, I even started to make fun of my sister; mocking her and laughing. I hopped around her singing “I’m going to tie you up, I’m going to tie you up…”

I thought she would be cross, but she laughed along with me. I think she was looking forward to bedtime as well.

We ate our food quickly and then scuttled upstairs to ‘play’. Our parents were professional people and seemed happy enough for us to keep out of the way and not make too much noise.

I didn’t waste any time telling Kathy that I wanted to find something ‘good’ to tie her up with — I wanted to practise so that when we went to bed and “did it” properly, there was no way she would be able to get away.

I was so excited with the thought of having her completely helpless and at my mercy and naked, I was almost in a frenzy. I rummaged through my drawers and wardrobe and ordered (my ‘dominance’ was becoming more and more apparent) her to do the same.

After a few minutes we got together in the middle of the room to see what we’d got. We had both found a number of old pairs of tights, and Kathy had found a length of crepe bandage which had been used on her sprained ankle some months ago.

We giggled and laughed as we sorted through the items, making no pretence about how they would be used.

I made the point that the tights felt really strong and that she wouldn’t be able to move a muscle. Kathy, to my delight, was just as enthusiastic and agreed wholeheartedly. I picked up the bandage and observed, “This would make a good gag. We don’t want Mum and Dad to hear you squealing.” That made us laugh again, and I noticed how flushed her face was. I think she was aroused even then.

I laid all the items out that we were going to use and told Kathy I wanted to ‘have a practise’.

She thought that was a great idea (I couldn’t believe her enthusiasm, but I liked it) and so I said, “Okay, then — just sit still, put your leg out, and I’ll try these.” I grabbed a pair of the old white tights.

It took me a little time to get it right. I was so pleased that we had decided to try it out first. I found that if I wrapped the tights around Kathy’s ankle or wrist a few times — nice and tight — then the ensuing simple knot would hold it in place and it was virtually impossible for her to escape. I made her try “really hard” to wriggle out. Eventually, I was satisfied I had a reasonable technique.

“Let’s do it properly now,” I suggested.

Once more, Kathy immediately complied.

I used the legs of one pair of tights on her ankles and another on her wrists (I had already visualised what I was going to do later, on the bed). In a matter of minutes her legs were bound securely and her hands tied tightly behind her back. We giggled and laughed throughout, and when I was done I stood up to observe and appreciate my handiwork.

She was lying on her side, her head twisted to look up at me. I saw how helpless she was. I also saw again how flushed she was. I knew she was aroused — I could sense it. And that knowledge, together with my pleasure at her helplessness, made me aroused too.

I crouched down beside Kathy and poked her gently in the ribs with my index finger.

“Ow!” she yelped. “Don’t!”

So I did it again, grinning.

She yelped again.

“Be quiet,” I ordered her. Then I leaned closely over her and whispered into her ear, “I can do anything I want to you and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.” I giggled as I said it. What a wonderful feeling of power. I felt my heart beating loudly. It was oh, so thrilling. I couldn’t wait until later when I had her completely to myself. In the dark. My parents asleep. Kathy naked and helpless. I was getting more and more aroused in my reverie. I had to do something.

So I poked her again, and again.

Then I tickled her. Her ribs and knees. I tickled her feet, then back to her ribs. She rolled and writhed and squealed and laughed and yelped and shouted louder and louder, “No! No! Stop it! Leave me ALONE! Get off! Get OFF ME!”

But I wouldn’t leave her alone. I loved it. I felt myself getting more and more aroused more and more “sexy”.

I sat astride Kathy to try and keep her still. I grabbed the bandage from the floor and with some effort managed to wrap it round and round her face, pushing it into her mouth and then tying it tightly.

She could still make a lot of noise, but muffled and less shrill.

And then I was straight back at her. Pinning her down, I tickled and poked and tortured her for what seemed like ages and she thrashed and screamed through it all. It was utterly fantastic. Such power and control.

I pulled her skirt up to her waist, revealing her panties.

“I can see your knickers,” I sang it out softly. “I can see your knickers,” and I let my little fingers tickle all the way down the crease of her panties between her buttocks and back again.

She went still then, and I bent right down so my mouth was touching her ear.

“Just you wait ‘til later,” I chuckled quietly, “just you wait…”

*****

Some hours later, I sat cross-legged on my bed, waiting for my sister. Her bedside lamp was on, casting a soft warm glow around the room.

Kathy was in the bathroom and there were butterflies in my stomach as I again listened to her toilet. The tinkle of her urinating sent a tingle through my loins as I looked over at her bed, which I had prepared in readiness. I was so excited I could hardly contain myself.

I had attached a pair of tights to each of the four legs. Following my earlier practise session, I had made sure that they were wrapped around and tied very tightly so each now had just a single leg lying loosely, waiting to secure the limbs of my willing victim.

A few minutes later Kathy came in. She cast me a furtive glance and a sly half-smile as she glided towards her bed. She was wearing a short nightdress which came just to her knees and rode up her bare thighs as she sat down.

She didn’t say a word, but remained sitting very still with her hands in her lap.

She was obviously waiting for me.

She didn’t have to wait long.

I silently moved across the room and stood in front of her.

“Lie down, then,” I instructed her. My voice was quiet but, to my own surprise, authoritative.

She passively lay full length on her back. She didn’t look up.

I quickly set to work. I felt my heart beating and my hands trembling slightly. I hoped it wasn’t too noticeable. I didn’t want Kathy to know how excited and aroused I was. I thought it might weaken my authority… but I loved every second that I spent tying her to the bed, and as each knot tightened my anticipation intensified.

Within a few minutes I had finished. Both ankles and both wrists were tied securely to the four corners of the bed. I had been fastidious. She was tied really tightly and was genuinely helpless. I had tried hard to stretch her wide — her arms and especially her legs — to give me as much access to her intimate parts as possible. I didn’t want her breaking free.

I stood in silence looking down at her. She squirmed and wriggled in a delightfully provocative way. I could have watched her like that for hours.

But I was almost overwhelmed with a curiously perverse desire. It was similar to the similar to the last time — but more intense. I knew that this was my sister but also, in a way, not simply my sister, but a human body completely at my mercy. Someone who had submitted herself completely for my indulgence. She was tied, helpless, completely vulnerable. I could do anything, anything at all. It thrilled me.

I promptly sat on the edge of the bed and looked at Kathy’s face. Her eyes were squeezed shut. Her mouth was slightly open. Her chest rose and fell with her rapid breathing.

I put my hand flat on the middle of her chest and she immediately arched her back, pressing her rib cage against my hand. I could feel her heart quickly beating. She raised her throat by pushing her head back into the pillow and thrusting her chest even harder against me. It was clearly an act of further submission — giving me her body, inviting me to touch her more.

I reached down and lifted the hem of her nightdress. She obligingly raised her hips enough for me to slide the material quickly up the length of her body. I threw it over her head as before so that she lay completely naked before me, but with her face obscured.

The sight excited me beyond words.

Now the scene was almost complete. The gentle light from the bedside lamp allowed me to see every detail of her nakedness. The soft down of her skin; her tight, flat belly stretched rigid by her bonds; the sharp detail of her ribs emphasised with every heave of her chest.

I reached out to touch her small, erect nipples. With just a fingertip I tickled each in turn. I kept doing it for minutes each. Knowing she couldn’t move and knowing what it felt like, I felt a surge of lust thrill through my loins as I revelled in my power.

I thought again that this faceless body, this defenceless human being was mine, mine. My God, I was so aroused.

As I persisted with my teasing, she began to writhe beneath me. My attention was drawn to her now undulating hips and I gloried in the site of her beautiful mound with that so enticing, neat little slit. She tried to push it out to invite me to touch it, then began to whimper, abstractly pleading like a baby.

I immediately put my mouth to her ear, my lips touching the soft cotton of her nightdress and hissed, “Shhh! Don’t make any noise!”

Then, to strengthen my point, I grabbed the nightdress and pressed it tightly over her face and wrapped it round so that it formed a tight mask rather than a loose cover. I could see the fabric stretched over her mouth, moving in and out with her breathing. Somehow that seemed to heighten her helplessness for me. I had another surge of lust in my loins as I took a sadistic delight in getting the roll of bandage from before and tying it round and round her mouth.

To my delight, she lifted her head to make it easier for me.

The end result was that she seemed even less my sister with her face disfigured by the gag — more just a living body for my amusement.

Through the tight material of the nightdress, I touched her face. Her eyes and her ears. I pinched her nose and held it for a few seconds – enough to make her moan in protest, her whole body arching as she fought for breath.

Then I let my fingers move down onto the soft skin of her neck and I began to tickle her.

The rapid drumbeat of my tiny fingers became relentless as I covered every inch of her. I grinned and giggled throughout as she writhed and strained beneath me. I touched her everywhere.

I concentrated on the most sensitive areas with malicious, cruel abandon: her armpits, her ribs, inside her thighs, her feet — especially her feet. She jerked her knees and elbows furiously and thrashed her head from side to side, and each time she tried to moan and scream her muffled objections, I moved up the bed and pinched her nose again until she subsided – all the while giggling in her ear and chiding her, “Shut up! Be quiet! I’ve only just started!”

I became breathless with stifled laughter and paused for a short while. I sat on the edge of the bed with one small hand idly tickling her ribs as she squirmed helplessly.

I studied Kathy again. I was enjoying this so much, but I was now filled with childish lust and was intent on some ‘sexy’ play. I really wanted to be ‘dirty,’ and with her tied like this I could be as rude and dirty as I wanted.

Leaving her briefly, I crossed the room and pulled the pillows from my bed.

With a little effort I managed to force them beneath her hips and buttocks, pushing her sex upwards and forcing her thighs wider.

Trembling with desire, I climbed onto the bed and knelt astride her, facing her feet. I bent my head until my face was almost touching her vagina. I inspected her sex in avid detail. Again, the thrill of having this helpless body beneath mine coursed through me. I almost didn’t know what to do next as the sensation, the awareness of my power, filled my senses.

I watched with eager fascination as my fingers, almost without my control, traced the line of her slit. Such intimate probing – I couldn’t get enough. I pressed her soft vaginal lips, tickled her labia. I carefully pulled them apart as she lay still, exposing her little clitoris.

I lowered my head further and extended my tongue. With the gentlest of movements I allowed the tip to caress that glistening bud.

She gave a muffled groan and squirmed once more, but I was suddenly transported in an ecstasy of indulgence.

I slid my hands languidly along the inside of her thighs, pressing them a little wider, and then licked the tip of her clitoris again — then again.

Her writhing became undulations as I worked on her. My fingertips danced all around her sex — tickling and caressing every part of her vulva, dipping gently in between her moist lips. I trailed my fingers along the whole line of her slit all the way to her anus, where they lingered as I savoured the naughtiness of that intimacy.

I pressed my cheek against her belly, feeling the warmth, inhaling the scent of her body. I could smell the lingering aroma of soap from her time in the bathroom, and that made me think of those other personal things that she did in there. Instantly inflamed, I thrust my face deep between her open thighs. Lasciviously sliding my tongue along her slit I pressed my nose deep between her buttocks and breathed deep. I wanted, lusted after the scent of her anus, her toilet. I wanted to be so dirty.

I licked her there, licked her tight sphincter. I stretched her buttocks with my fingertips so that I could see it. I eagerly examined it in the half-light, then licked it again – proud of my bravery, proud of my abandon.

I became lost in this glorious freedom. I stretched myself full length on top of her, so my hips lay high on her chest and my feet on her face. I ran my hands along her legs with my fingertips extended beyond her knees stroking, feeling. And all the while my mouth licked, slavered and drooled between her open thighs. I sucked and licked and flickered my tongue with wanton delight.

Inspired, I quickly sat up and removed my pyjama bottoms, then without any preamble, pressed my bare behind onto her face. I wriggled and squirmed, grinning cruelly to myself, as I moved my hips up and down, smearing the secretions from my childish lust over the material which was stretched tightly over her mouth and nose. The bandage was still in place, and she was muttering and groaning through it as I rubbed myself on her.

Excited and aroused beyond anything I had previously experienced, I reached behind and pulled the cloth of her nightdress down — releasing her eyes and nose but leaving her mouth still tightly covered. I glanced over my shoulder and noted the startled, almost fearful, expression in her eyes. I loved it, because not only was she afraid of me, I also saw an expression of resignation there. She was defeated. She really was mine to play with. I once again saw her as my sister but now from a new perspective. I was genuinely in control — in my mind, “the boss”.

I pushed myself back again, and this time felt the glorious sensation of her skin and breath against my bare vulva and anus. I wriggled and squirmed again until I had positioned my sphincter hard against her nose where I pressed and rubbed… to show her that I was fully in control and to humiliate her. It felt wonderful. I rubbed my clitoris on her face, relentlessly, until I was on the point of orgasm, then paused, letting the intense feeling subside.

Then, once more, I got back to work on her sex. I licked and lapped her cunt, sucked her clitoris, licked her labia, tickled inside her with the tip of my tongue.

Aroused as I was, I continued with all of this for what seemed like ages — then I noticed her movements becoming more pronounced. The undulations of her hips became stronger and fell into rhythm with me. I sensed her nearing that ‘point’ as her belly tightened beneath me and she strained harder to push her sex into my mouth. I continued licking her with new zeal.

When she started to moan through the gag and her hips began the reflex spasms of orgasm, I pulled my mouth away and sat up a little. One hand carefully parted her vaginal lips, while with the other I used just the tip of my index finger to rapidly flick her exposed clitoris. I did it as fast as I could, and grinned with joy as I relished the sounds of her ecstasy. She was bound so tightly, though, and was so constrained by my weight and the packed pillows beneath her that she could hardly move at all.

I felt so in control and my own physical pleasure was so intense (my naked puss was pressed hard against her belly) I just didn’t want to stop. So I kept on… and on.

Her moans of pleasure took on a different tone. The spasms in her hips were replaced by spasms of a different kind. Her whole body began to tremble. It was such a delicious feeling beneath me.

I turned my head to look into her eyes and was greeted by a baleful stare as she lifted her head to meet my eyes, a series of tremendous jolts running through her. Her head jerked back and forth and the trembling only increased. I grinned mercilessly as I stared into her eyes, my fingertip persisting with its cruel tickling. I did it faster and faster, and she threw her head back into the pillow.

I loved the sight of her stretched, distended throat as she helplessly gave in to the terrible pleasure I was inflicting upon her. Her muffled moans picked up the rhythm of my insistent rubbing. “Nnnnn… nnnnn… nnnn…” I kept doing it. It was wonderful.

Eventually I had to stop. My hand was cramping, and my dear sister had ceased her moaning and had lapsed into a series of feeble whimpers, albeit still in rhythm with my movements.

Satisfied, I slipped my tired finger into the wetness between her labia and held it there for a few moments. Kathy gave a shuddering sigh, and I slowly pulled out and lifted myself off her. I had a moment of regret as I looked down at her naked helplessness, but decided that enough was enough.

Crouching down, I started to untie her. As I fiddled with the knots, I touched my lips to her cheek. She stared blankly upwards in silence as, with a quiet chuckle, I whispered, “I’m going to tell Maria all about this tomorrow. I’m going to tell her everything…”

Kathy closed her eyes.

To be continued…?

By Muffi

It was one of those rare moments of near-perfect timing. I woke early in the morning; as my eyes opened blearily, I felt Janelle stir in my arms. We had awakened at almost the same moment, still cuddled close together, warm beneath the sheet and blankets. She was completely beneath the covers, her head still cradled against my breasts. As I looked at the mirrored wall, I saw the covers slowly slide down, her prettily tousled hair coming into view. I smiled as I felt and heard her yawn, one hand rubbing at her eyes. Then it hit me.

Oh, dear God… What the hell have I done?

As the events of last night swam into my mind, I felt as though I’d been kicked in the stomach. I had visions of being led away in handcuffs, and thought that it would be no more than I deserved. I had molested my niece.

Okay, maybe I hadn’t technically molested her, really, but all the same, it was a fine line. I’d engaged in mutual masturbation with her. I had touched her pretty little nipples as she lay next to me, pleasuring herself. Perhaps worst of all, though, I had quite probably opened a door that I had no business even thinking of passing through.

How the hell am I going to deal with this? I wondered. What do I say to her?

My arms still around her, Janelle moved and stretched, extending her both arms above her head, her entire body going taut. As she moved, my hand ended up resting on her tight, flat belly. She yawned again, then turned her head and smiled at me.

“G’mornin’, Aunt Meagan,” she said softly.

Quickly, I pulled my hand from her skin. I smiled, feeling nervous and worried.

“Good morning, Sweetie,” I said. “Did you sleep okay?”

Still smiling, she nodded her head, then rolled to her side facing me, curling herself up close, resting her head on my breast again. “Mmm-hmmm…” Her voice sounded like the purring of a cat.

I had to move, get out of this bed and away from her soft, warm body, so close to mine. The bathroom! That would work.

“Sweetie,” I said, “I need to move. I have to pee.”

I saw a mock pout on her face as she rolled away from me.

“‘Kay,” she said softly. Then, “Me, too.”

Shit…

I couldn’t very well insist on privacy. That would be way out of character for me with Janelle. We’ve never been shy or modest around each other; if I started that now, she’d wonder what was wrong. I had to handle this in a sort of business-as-usual way, or I’d be sending her messages that I didn’t want to send.

On the other hand, I needed to have a discussion with her, the sooner the better. I also needed to make that conversation as relaxed as I could. If I wasn’t careful, Janelle might think that she’d done something wrong. I needed to make sure that she knew, with no doubt, that I was the one who had crossed the line. She could repeat the activities of last night as often as she liked, as long as it was with someone who was more age appropriate. Not with some perverted adult.

I was terrified. Oddly, it wasn’t from fear of what might happen to me because of this. It was fear that I might lose Janelle, that when she came to understand how wrong it had been for me to allow what had happened, she’d hate me. I wasn’t sure if I could stand that.

I got out of bed and padded to the bathroom, Janelle close on my heels. As I sat emptying my bladder, she stood there, bed-rumpled and gorgeous, smiling at me. I did my best to appear relaxed, but I wasn’t sure how well I was doing.

“I’ll call the school in just a few minutes,” I said, “and let them know you won’t be in today.”

“‘Kay,” Janelle said softly.

When I’d finished, I stood and flushed the toilet. Janelle took my place, and I took my robe from the bathroom door, relieved that I could now cover myself in front of her. I belted it around my waist, smiled at Janelle again, and told her that I’d be in my office.

I let Janelle’s school know what was going on, and that she wouldn’t be in. They assured me that they’d make sure her teacher was informed, and if there were any critical assignments, someone would call to let us know.

As I hung up the phone, Janelle walked into my office, still stark naked. She came and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered, looking up at me. “Last night was really nice.” She laid her head against my breasts and just stood holding me.

Fuck, I thought. I’m not going to be able to put this off.

What was I supposed to say to her? “Oh, by the way, Janelle, I loved it too. But you need to forget that anything happened with your perverted, child-molesting old aunt.”

Yeah, sure.

Just be careful, Meagan, I thought.

“Uhm, sweetie…” I hesitated. Janelle lifted her head and smiled up at me expectantly.

“Janelle… last night shouldn’t have happened,” I said. “I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Why not?” she asked. She looked genuinely perplexed.

“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go get some breakfast, and we’ll talk.” I was stalling.

I started a pot of coffee for myself while Janelle fixed herself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I didn’t have much of an appetite. I’d stick with just coffee. When it was ready, I sat down at the table with her. Damn it! She was still naked, still completely unselfconscious about it. I tried not to stare.

I wasn’t having much luck with that. She was so damned pretty, with her bed-rumpled hair, her still sleepy-looking cobalt-blue eyes, and that smooth, pale skin. I dropped my eyes to the table for a moment, then looked back up at her.

“Janelle,” I said softly, “about last night. It was wrong of me to let that happen.”

“But why, Aunt Meagan?”

“Sweetie, you didn’t do anything wrong. I did. It was wrong for me to take advantage of you that way.”

She sat staring at me like I was insane. “But, Aunt Meagan,” she said, “I started it, not you.”

“And it was my responsibility to stop it, Janelle,” I said. “It’s wrong for grownups to do things like that with kids.”

“Why?”

I wished that I could just be like my mother for a moment. Her response would have been, “Because it just is. That’s all you need to know.” I couldn’t bring myself to do that to Janelle, though.

“Because you’re still too young to make that kind of decision,” I said. “Sharing something like that with someone is a very important thing. You need to have some more experience before you start making those kinds of decisions. And it’s wrong for an adult to do something like that with someone so young.”

She sat considering this for a moment. “What if we were both the same age?” she asked.

“You mean, if I was your age?” I asked. Janelle nodded. “Then it would be different,” I said. “I wouldn’t be expecting you to act like an adult. We’d both be kids, and there’s nothing wrong with kids doing things like that together.”

“But what’s the difference?”

“Sweetie, it would be too easy for me to try and make you do things that you aren’t ready to do yet. Things that you might not want to do.”

“You wouldn’t do that,” she said firmly.

“I’d like to believe that, Janelle,” I said. “But until last night, I would have thought that I’d never let anything like that happen with someone your age.”

“Then why did you?” she asked.

Why, indeed. Tread lightly, Meagan, I thought. I looked straight into her devastatingly beautiful eyes.

“Honestly,” I said quietly, “I guess I let it happen because I love you so much, and because I find you so beautiful and attractive. I wanted it to happen. And I didn’t stop to think about how wrong it was.”

Janelle blushed, the color creeping up from her chest, to her neck, and into her cheeks.

“Then Mom was lyin’ to me?” she asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” I replied.

“Mom said it was okay for me to do things like that. She said it was okay to do anything I wanted like that, with anyone I wanted to, as long as I decided that I want to do it.”

“No, Janelle,” I said, “your Mom wasn’t lying to you. But I’m pretty sure she didn’t mean that it was okay to do those things with an adult.”

“But, Aunt Meagan, you didn’t ask me to do it. I wanted to. I asked you to let me do it.”

I started to open my mouth, but she rushed on. “An’ besides,” she said, “it’s not like you really did anything. You just watched me. Well, ‘kay, you touched me a little bit, but I liked it when you did. I wanted to do it for you. An’ I liked watching you, too. An’ it was like a billion times better last night than it’s ever been before.”

I was losing the argument. Time for a different angle?

“Janelle,” I said, “Do you have any idea how angry your Mom and Dad would be with me if they knew I’d let that happen? Do you know that I could get into all kinds of trouble, even be arrested and sent to jail, for doing what I did last night?”

Janelle shrugged.

“Then we won’t tell anybody,” she said simply. “I know how to keep a secret, y’know.”

“I don’t want to start asking you to keep secrets from your Mom and Dad,” I said.

“Then I should tell ’em?”

“I don’t want you to, no,” I said. “But if you do, I’ll understand.”

She stared into my eyes with a very serious expression. “I don’t wanna tell ’em,” she said softly. “If I tell ’em, we might never be able to do it again. An’ I really wanna do it again, Aunt Meagan.”

God help me, I thought. I’m doomed.

“Janelle…” I faltered. “We can’t, sweetie.”

“Why not? You love me, right?”

“Yes,” I said, “I do love you, but that’s not the point.”

“Would you do it with a grownup?” she asked.

“Yes, but that’s different.”

“Why? Cause I’m just a kid means I don’t know what I want?”

“Janelle…”

She cut me off. “My Mom said it’s okay if I do it,” she said. “An’ you said it’s okay if I do it. Mom said someday I’ll do it with somebody I love, and other stuff, too. We didn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. I wanted to do everything we did. I love you, an’ you love me.”

She stared at me steadily for a moment.

“‘Sides, you said yourself you wanted it to happen. Now you say we can’t do it again. Does that mean you don’t wanna do it with me anymore?”

“Janelle, listen to me, please?” I said. I could hear the desperation in my own voice. “You know I love you. Nothing can ever change that. But it’s so complicated, don’t you see? It would have to be this big, dark secret that we could never share with anyone else. If we were ever caught… Janelle, your Mom and Dad would hate me. They’d never let me see you again. And I couldn’t stand that.”

“If you ask me,” she said quietly, “Sara’s Dad’s the one who should get in trouble. He’s the one who’s hurtin’ a kid, not you. You didn’t hurt me. You made me feel like you love me, an’ like I’m special.”

Again, that steady stare.

“An’ if feelin’ like I felt last night is bad, then I don’t care. I liked it. I wanna do it again with you. If you don’t wanna, then fine. Just tell me you don’t wanna. But I don’t think you can, cause you don’t ever lie to me.”

Without another word, she stood up from the table. She brought her dishes to the sink and rinsed them, and then she walked out of the room and went upstairs.

She was hurt. I’d blown this, badly. I wanted to comfort her, reassure her, but I was terrified to. I was afraid that if I went to her, I’d take one look into those eyes, and just give up the battle. I’d surrender to something I knew was wrong.

What exactly is wrong with it? I asked myself. You’re hurting her now by refusing to admit what you’re feeling. Which is worse?

As bad as I’d felt when I woke up this morning, I felt worse now. I’d seen the hurt in Janelle’s eyes when we were talking. Way to go, Meagan, I thought. Knock her self-esteem around a little bit, why don’t you?

I headed up the stairs to my bedroom. Janelle was there, dressed now in denim shorts, a pink t-shirt, and sneakers. She was sitting on the edge of my bed, looking forlorn. I took a deep breath, then knelt on the floor in front of her. I took her hands in mine, and looked into her eyes.

“Janelle, I want you to do something for me, okay?” I said. “Just hear me out before you say anything. Will you do that?”

She nodded, looking at me solemnly.

“I… I want you to think about this. Think about it very hard, okay? Think about everything I said this morning.” I let go of her hands, and placed my fingers on her cheeks, lightly. “After you’ve thought about it for a while…” I swallowed audibly. “After you’ve thought about it, if you still feel the same way, then… Then we’ll talk again, and we’ll do whatever you feel comfortable doing. Is that okay with you?”

“You’re not just tryin’ to make me feel better?” she said.

“Janelle… I’ve been trying to make myself not feel things about you for a while now. Things that I thought I had no right to feel. No, I’m not trying to make you feel better. I’m… Well, I’m admitting to myself what I really want. And if you promise to think about it, and be very sure that it’s what you want, too, then… Well, then we’ll decide what we’re going to do.”

She threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly. Her voice was muffled when she spoke, her face buried in the side of my neck.

“I already know, Aunt Meagan, but I’ll think about it, I promise.”

I felt wetness on the skin of my neck. She was crying. “I love you, Aunt Meagan.”

“Shhh… I love you, too, sweetie. So very, very much.” I smoothed her hair down with one hand, the other pressed against her back as I held her close.

I pulled back from her, and looked into her eyes. Her face was tear-stained, but she was smiling at me.

“Tell you what,” I said. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll go and get a few pinkies for your snake, and then we’ll go to your house and see about feeding her. By then it should be lunch time, and we can go get a burger. Sound good?”

She nodded, then pulled me back again for another quick hug.

“You go wash your face and brush your teeth while I get dressed, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she replied. She stood and made her way to the bathroom.

Since it looked like a denim and t-shirt day for Janelle, I decided to imitate her. I’d shower later. I pulled on a pair of panties, then some denim shorts, a pink t-shirt of my own and sneakers. I went to the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth. When I walked in, Janelle looked at me, noticing that I had on a pretty closely matched outfit. She grinned.

“Hey! You look nice, Aunt Meagan!”

This was more like it. She was herself again.

“Why, thank you,” I replied. “You look pretty nice yourself!”

She giggled. God, I loved hearing her laugh.

When we were ready to go, I filled a travel mug with coffee, and we went to the local pet shop. We were lucky, they had a mouse who had given birth a few days before, and the owner was willing to sell the babies. Young, immature snakes should be fed baby mice, or very small lizards. We also bought a few frozen dead rats that I needed for Ellie and Nellie. We stopped by my house again just long enough for me to put them in the garage freezer, then we went to feed Janelle’s boa for the first time.

I’ll spare you the details of the feeding. I know a lot of people are squeamish about things like that, even though I don’t understand why, really. It’s a natural process. People with cats don’t think twice about seeing a mouse get mauled and killed, but if they see a snake kill the same animal and feed, they get sick to their stomachs. I’ve never understood it. We’ll just leave it with saying that after just a bit of coaxing, Meagan ate the two pinkies that we’d brought her.

I told Janelle that when she needed to feed her again, I’d take her to get the food supply. Kate is one of those squeamish people who can’t even bear to think about a snake feeding. I wasn’t sure how Michael would feel about it, but I figured it would be best to have a plan in place, just in case no one else was willing to help out.

After we fed Janelle’s boa, we went out for lunch. Burgers, fries, and milkshakes.

Yeah, I know. Not very healthy. I figured one meal of pure junk food wouldn’t hurt her. I’d have to work out to keep it off my hips, but what the hell.

I asked Janelle if there was anything she wanted to do. She just wanted to go back to my house and relax. Those were her exact words. I should have known what she was thinking.

I was doing a pretty good job of blocking out what I’d told Janelle earlier. I guess I was kind of hoping that she’d just forget what I’d said, and that everything would go back to normal. You know, if you ignore something it will just go away.

Denial, anyone?

When we got to my house, Janelle went upstairs to change while I pulled two frozen rats out of the freezer, and set them on a paper towel in the kitchen. Don’t worry, they come sealed in plastic. You have to let them thaw and come to room temperature naturally. If you microwave them they partially cook, and snakes aren’t built for cooked food. Besides, they’re whole, meaning they still have all of their internal organs. If you microwave them, they stink like you wouldn’t believe. It’s a mistake you’ll only make once. They’d be ready by late evening, which is my normal feeding time for them. I thought Janelle might like to feed them for me.

When I went to the living room, Janelle was on the couch with the remote control, dressed in her de rigueur panties and t-shirt. My heart thumped hard a couple of times. Whether she was conscious of it or not, she was making this really difficult for me. I shot a silent command to Ellie and Nellie to keep their comments to themselves. They heeded the warning. I suppose they wanted to be sure that they were fed that night.

I should have chosen to sit in the chair. I didn’t, though. I sat on the end of the couch. Part of me thought I was probably going to regret that. Another part of me quietly hoped that I’d have something to actually regret. Like I said, I was doomed. Any fighting that I was doing now was purely symbolic. A way for me to be able to say, “I tried to fight it. I really did.”

Yeah, sure I did.

It was still early afternoon. There wasn’t a lot on television that I was interested in, so I let Janelle choose what she wanted. We wound up watching one of those sickening movies on Lifetime; you know, the ones where a woman is a victim all her life, and then rises up against her abusive husband. There’s a thousand variations on the theme, really, and every one of them seems to have made its way to this channel.

It didn’t take Janelle very long to move to her usual place when we’re alone together, snuggled against my side. I had my arm around her as she sat with her knees drawn up, feet against her butt. Her thighs were almost lying across mine, her hands together at her chest. She was in an almost fetal position against me. That position pretty much left the entire lower half of her body exposed. Pale, lime green panties stretched tightly over the perfect swell of her little ass. Of course, my hand moved to rest against that thin material, my palm flat on one plump little cheek of her butt.

Nothing overt, mind you. Just my hand resting there on her ass.

We had been in that position for a while, neither of us saying much, other than the occasional comment about the movie, when I felt Janelle’s arm slide across my belly. Her head was resting against my right breast. I felt… Not lust, really. I’m glad that I can say that it wasn’t really lust. Lust implies more selfish, physical need than anything else. This was more desire. A deep, aching, longing desire.

It was in that moment that I consciously gave up the battle with myself.

I wouldn’t press her. I wouldn’t set about trying to seduce her into my bed. But I was done fighting it. I loved her, and that was the deciding factor. I remembered being her age, so curious about the mysteries of my own body, and about what people did together. I remembered finding other girls and women attractive, and how confusing that had been for me. I would not try to sweep anything aside with Janelle any longer. The pace and the choices would be hers. I would not deny her.

Besides, I hadn’t been much older than Janelle when, at just barely eleven, I’d had my first encounter with another girl, the thirteen-year-old sister of my best friend. I had known what I wanted, in a vague sort of way. I couldn’t have spelled it out specifically, but the desire for it was there, and that desire was strong.

The movie had ended, we were watching the previews of the next variation on the same theme that was about to come on. I had moved my free hand so that it rested on her forearm where it lay on my belly, absently stroking the skin there with my thumb. I felt her sigh and wriggle a bit, snuggling closer to me.

“Aunt Meagan?”

“Hmmm?”

“How long do I hafta think about it?” she asked. I felt myself smile.

“Well,” I said, “that’s pretty much up to you. You just need to think about everything, and when you’ve thought about it enough, you’ll know.”

She was silent for a few very long moment.

“Then I’m done thinkin’ about it,” she said. “I want us to be able to do it again. An’ I promise I can keep it a secret, just our secret. I want it to be just for us, anyway. But I don’t wanna hafta stop doing it with you, cause I love you, and I really liked doin’ it with you.”

I brought my hand up from her butt to stroke her soft hair. “Are you sure that’s what you want, sweetie?”

I felt her nod. “Yeah,” she said softly. “I really do, Aunt Meagan.”

“Well, then,” I said, “I won’t argue with you about it anymore. I’ll let you decide what’s going to happen, and how fast, and what you’re ready for. I won’t push you to do anything you don’t want. But I won’t try to stop you from doing anything that you do want, either. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said softly. “Thank you, Aunt Meagan.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For not treatin’ me like I’m just a kid,” she replied.

“Sweetie, you need to know this,” I said. “I’ve felt like this for quite a while about you. I’ve wanted this with you. I love you so much, and I guess that’s why I started to feel this way. So I guess I should be the one thanking you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For feeling the same way about me that I feel about you.”

She snuggled her head in deeper to my breast and sighed. “I didn’t know,” she said softly, “till I saw you touchin’ yourself like that last night. That’s when I figured out why I like to think about you when I touch myself.”

“You think about me when you do that?” I asked.

Janelle nodded. “Yeah,” she said shyly. “I close my eyes, an’ I pretend it’s you touchin’ me there.”

My heart melted, and at the same time, I realized that Janelle had already thought about this. I didn’t have to ask her to be sure about what she wanted, she already knew. I smiled.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” I said softly. “I think about you when I do it.”

I felt her head lift so she could look at my face, to see if I was trying to kid with her.

“Really?” she said. “You do?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sweetie, I do. I told you I’ve wanted this for a while now.”

She stared at me, unwaveringly. I watched as a blush crept into her face, and then her eyes dropped. “I…” She faltered.

“What, sweetie?” I asked.

“I wanna kiss you,” she whispered. “But I’m scared.”

I used the tips of my fingers to lift her chin until she was looking at me again.

“Don’t be scared, sweetie,” I said. It was barely a whisper.

I leaned down and placed my lips on Janelle’s, lightly, just a mere brush of a feather. I held the kiss for a long moment, until I felt her sigh and relax against me. Her mouth pressed back, lips parting just a the tiniest bit. I used my own lips to nibble at hers for a moment, then broke the kiss and pulled her to me. Her arm slid around my neck as she pressed her face into my shoulder.

“That was nice,” she said softly.

We sat that way, cuddling, kissing each other now and then, for the length of the next movie. My hands roamed a bit now, rather than simply resting on her body. I stroked her arms, her thighs, her soft, firm ass. Now that I’d decided to stop fighting, there was a curious kind of peace about all of this. It felt right somehow, even though I knew that anyone looking in would have been shocked.

To hell with anyone else, I thought. This is what Janelle wants, and it’s what I want. I’ll be damned if I’m going to deny either of us.

When the movie ended, I asked Janelle if she was hungry. She was, and we decided that we really didn’t want to bother with cooking. I ordered a pizza for us; extra cheese, extra pepperoni, extra “smushrooms.” I even decided to give up my customary anchovies.

God, I thought, I must be in love…

I don’t give up my anchovies for just anyone.

“How come you didn’t get those slimy eyebrows on half of it, Aunt Meagan?” Janelle asked when the pizza arrived.

“Because,” I said, “I know how much you hate them. Even though I also know that you’ve never even tried them.”

She blushed and grinned. “Nope, and I’m not gonna, either. Not ever. They’re gross!”

“Well, some people think your “smushrooms” are pretty gross, too, you know.”

“That’s different,” she replied. “Smushrooms are good.”

“Why is it different? They’re slimy, and nasty looking, but they still taste good.”

“Yeah, but anchovies don’t taste good.” she said. “I can tell cause of how they smell.”

“You just don’t like fish,” I said. “You’re prejudiced.”

Janelle wrinkled her nose and grimaced. “Fish is disgusting!”

“You do realize what you’ve done to me today, don’t you?” I said.

“What?” She looked at me questioningly.

“Because of this junk food that you love so much,” I said, “I’m going to have to work out for a week so I don’t get fat.”

She gave me her signature grin. “But you love me still, right?”

I touched the side of her face. “Yeah,” I whispered. “That I do.” I leaned down and kissed her gently.

By now, everything was ready to carry to the living room and eat. I grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator for myself, and pulled the carton of milk out to pour a glass for Janelle. One healthy item, at least.

Yeah, I’m a true dyke. Pizza and beer. There’s nothing quite like it.

Janelle was eyeing my beer.

“Aunt Meagan,” she said, “can I have beer instead?”

“Uhm, don’t you think you’re a little young to be drinking beer?”

She shook her head. “Nuh-uh. My dad lets me have a little bit of his sometimes. I really like it. Please? Pretty please?”

I sighed. I was going to have to practice up on saying, “No” to Janelle. “All right, all right. Geez.” I pulled a second beer from the fridge, and put the milk away. “It’s going to give you the burps, you know.”

“So?” she grinned.

I shook my head, and we went into the living room to watch television and eat pizza. And drink beer. God, but I’d made short work of corrupting my little niece. It’s a good thing I gave up smoking pot a long time ago. If I hadn’t, I’d probably be getting her high, too.

We were still watching insipid movies on the Lifetime channel. I was reaching the point where I couldn’t stand them anymore.

“You know,” I said, “we have to do something about your taste in movies.”

“Why?” said Janelle.

“Because for me, this stuff is about the same thing as Teletubbies is to you.”

“Teletubbies suck!”

“Exactly,” I said sarcastically.

“Well, what do you wanna watch?” Asked Janelle.

“SyFy Channel?” I said hopefully.

Janelle wrinkled her nose. So much for that idea.

“Okay then, how about we put a movie in?” I said.

Janelle thought for a moment. “Thelma and Louise?”

“Deal!” I said. “And, if you want to, you can feed Ellie and Nellie, too. Their rats should be ready by now.”

I picked up our plates, and watched Janelle chug down the last third of her beer. I was then afforded the dubious pleasure of hearing a long, rather loud belch. She grinned at me.

“I told you so,” I said. Which simply inspired her to begin deliberately burping. Such a little lady.

“Put the movie in, brat,” I said, laughing.

I brought the dishes to the kitchen, opened the packages containing the two dead rats, now fully thawed and at room temperature. I brought them into the living room, along with the pair of tongs that I use when feeding them. Ellie and Nellie can be aggressive at feeding time, and while they can’t do much damage to an arm, it can be startling to have a fully grown boa constrictor suddenly wrap itself around your arm at lightning speed.

Feeding snakes can sometimes be tricky, requiring a separate feeding enclosure so that they don’t associate a hand entering their living enclosure only with being fed. Ellie and Nellie have become accustomed to what is food and what is not, so I’d dispensed with separate enclosures some years ago. I handed the items to Janelle, who loves to feed them.

The opening credits were rolling as she fed first Ellie, then Nellie. She is still fascinated with watching them feed, particularly with the swallowing process. It is quite interesting to watch, actually. The whole thing takes about ten minutes for each snake. When she was finished, we both went to the kitchen and washed our hands, and then returned to watch the movie.

I told Janelle that I was going to go upstairs and change. When I returned in my t-shirt and panties, I sat on the couch next to her. She immediately took up her place under my right arm, pressed against my side.

It was back to snuggle-and-kissy time. I don’t think that Janelle was aware yet of what kind of an effect she was having on me. Every brush of her hand, every movement of her body against mine, every little kiss brought my arousal up to a higher level. Apparently, though, it was having an effect on her, too. When my fingers slipped under her panties to caress her firm little butt, she sighed deeply.

“Aunt Meagan?”

“Yes, sweetie?” I said.

“Can we go up to bed now?” Her hips were squirming slightly, small motions in response to my caressing hand.

I kissed her softly, a lingering, nibbling kiss.

“Of course,” I whispered.

We stood, and hand in hand, went slowly upstairs, Janelle leaning against me.

When we reached my bedroom, I turned on the overhead light, went around the room lighting candles, then turned the light out again.

The candles cast a warm, flickering glow over the room. I turned on the stereo, Sarah McLachlan filling the room with quiet music.

Janelle was standing next to the bed, watching me, a tiny smile on her lips, candlelight reflected in her eyes. I went to her and sat on the edge of the bed, moving so that she stood between my knees. With my hands on her hips, I leaned forward and kissed her again. I couldn’t seem to get enough of her kisses; soft, gentle, but so erotic because of their almost complete innocence.

Leaning back again, I took the bottom of her t-shirt in my fingers and slowly lifted it up and over her head as she raised her arms, then tossed it to the side. With my hands on either side of her waist, I stared into her eyes for a moment.

“You are so very beautiful, Janelle,” I whispered.

I watched a pretty blush creep into her cheeks, and leaned close to kiss her again. As our lips came together, my hands slid up along Janelle’s sides until my thumbs could caress her pale, flat nipples. At her sudden intake of breath, I traced the tip of my tongue over her lower lip. I was surprised when her mouth opened, welcoming my tongue in to explore.

The kiss went on and on. I felt something rising within me. I’ve been filled with lust before, I’ve been purely horny as all hell before, but this was different. This was… It was a hunger, gnawing and deep, a longing that I’d never experienced before. It was a need, but it went far beyond being simply a physical need. It was a need to meld with Janelle, to bring us together in body, mind and soul. All the times in the past, when I had considered myself to be in love with someone, faded and paled in comparison to what I felt now.

This is what being in love feels like, I thought.

It was the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced.

I slid my hands behind her, one hand moving upwards to cup the back of her head and hold her in this amazing kiss, the other sliding down, my fingers slipping beneath her panties to caress her firm little ass.

As Janelle’s arms came up around my neck, her lips began to move against mine, more by instinct than anything else, I think. Tentative at first, her tongue darted forward, over my lips, then retreated. I moaned quietly, and with more confidence now, her tongue again slipped past my lips, exploring and tasting. Her breathing began to deepen, sending a sweet breeze across my cheek each time she exhaled.

I brought both of my hands to her hips, and slowly tugged down on her panties, sliding them over her ass and down her thighs; when they fell to the floor, she stepped out of them and finally, I was holding her close to me, warm and naked. As one hand caressed and stroked the backs of her thighs and her ass, she broke the kiss, burying her face in my neck, her arms locked behind me.

“Oh, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered hoarsely. “I love you so much.”

I kissed her neck, her shoulder, and then her neck again.

“I love you, too, Janelle.” I breathed it into her ear, feeling her body quiver as my words tickled their way in.

Janelle stepped back then, one small step, and stood staring into my eyes. Her gaze dropped shyly as she reached out and took the bottom of my t-shirt in her hands, lifting it up. I raised my arms above my head and let her remove it; she threw it on top of her already discarded top.

It was my turn to feel a bit self-conscious; she’d seen my breasts before, of course, but the context was completely different now. She was gazing at them with admiration, like a lover would, not with a little girl’s natural curiosity. Her eyes rose to meet mine as, hesitantly, her hands reached out to touch them.

I gave her a tiny smile and nodded my head once, letting her know that it was all right to touch me. When the palms of her hands came into contact with my already erect nipples, I gasped softly, head falling back as my eyes closed. Her fingers closed gently on my breasts, and I moaned. I felt her touch in my pussy, as though there was a white hot wire that ran from my nipples straight to my clit.

I leaned back, hands behind me, to support my weight. Janelle stepped closer, her thighs brushing against the inside of mine, following me back, her hands never leaving my breasts. I spread my legs wider as she moved closer, the front of her thighs pressing against my pussy. My panties were soaked now, wet and sticky, clinging to my skin.

I brought one hand up, covering hers, my fingers guiding hers to squeeze harder, to pinch at my nipple. I was panting now, lips parted, breath coming in short gasps. I forced my eyes to open, to look at Janelle. She stood, leaning her weight into my pussy, hands at my breasts, teasing my nipples now, pulling, rolling them between her fingers. She was a very quick study. She was staring at my face, a look of wonder in her eyes as she studied my reactions to her touch.

I moaned a quiet protest when her hands left my breasts. She reached down to take the waistband of my panties in her small fingers, tugging at it. I lifted my hips for her, and she quickly pulled the thin material down my thighs, my calves, and then off my feet, throwing them to the side. I sat up and pulled her to me, burying my face in her hair. Slipping one hand between her legs from behind, I was somewhat surprised to find that her baby-soft, perfectly smooth pussy was as dripping wet as my own.

This was right. This was… Well, it was perfection. Naked body pressed to naked body, faces buried in each other’s necks, our breath hot on one another’s skin, our hands slowly stroking and exploring. The last shreds of doubt flew away from me like tattered tissue paper in a strong wind. In the depths of my heart, I knew.

This was right. This was meant to be.

I had to force myself to slow down. I didn’t want to scare her, especially not this first time. Okay, second time, I suppose, if I want to be technical. But I didn’t want her to feel raped, I wanted her to feel loved and appreciated. Slowly, Meagan, I thought. You have all the time in the world for this. Make it a memory that she’ll cherish forever.

I leaned away from Janelle’s neck to look in her eyes as I brought my trembling hands to her face. I kissed her again, gently.

“Are you scared?” I whispered.

Janelle shook her head. “I could never be scared with you, Aunt Meagan,” she said softly.

I scooted my ass back on the bed, patting the bedspread.

“Come up here with me, Sweetie,” I said.

Janelle climbed up onto the bed with me, and I moved us both so that we lay side by side, facing each other. I propped my head up with one hand, and stroked her hair with the other, slipping my fingers through the softness. Her eyes, those deep-sea, cobalt blue eyes stared up at me. I saw curiosity, longing and love there. Nothing else; no worry, no nervousness, no fear.

I leaned down and gave her another light kiss. “Why don’t you just lie back,” I whispered, “and let me make love to you. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

With one hand, I pressed her gently onto her back, leaning in to kiss her again. I pulled my top leg up, bending it at the knee, and gently nudged her thighs apart, finally resting my thigh against her warm, soft mons. I felt her wetness immediately, sparking my own flow to increase. My free hand sought and then found her nipples, rubbery little discs of pink flesh that crinkled at my touch. They didn’t quite come erect, but I felt them tighten, and heard Janelle draw a sharp breath through her nose.

I pulled my mouth from hers, laying a soft line of kisses down along her jaw line to the hollow beneath her earlobe. Brushing her hair out of the way with my fingers, I ran the tip of my tongue along the crease behind her ear, feeling her shiver beneath me. As my lips trailed down along her neck, I felt her sigh, a not-quite moan that let me know she was enjoying what was happening. As my lips made their way into the hollow of her throat, she lifted her chin and raised her arms above her head, stretching out like a kitten.

Her skin tasted sweet, creamy and delicate against my mouth. I kissed my way lower, nibbling her skin with my lips, then dragged my tongue in a slow, flat sweep across one small nipple. As I did, my hand slid lower, to her hip, pulling her tighter against my thigh. She responded immediately, lifting her pelvis, rubbing her puffy labia against my leg. Her pussy left a slick trail of moisture along my thigh.

Slowly, Meagan, I thought.

I moved again, rising to my knees, and gently nudged Janelle to roll over so that she was lying face down. Her arms came up, hands joining just above her head, face turned to one side, eyes closed and a dreamy looking smile on her face. I shifted and knelt so that I was straddling her lower thighs, my butt resting lightly on the backs of her knees. Her slender body was pale, gleaming in the candlelight.

I ran my hands slowly up along her back to her shoulders, gently massaging them for a moment, then drew my fingertips lightly down the sides of her neck, smiling at the sight of goose bumps rising on her skin. Leaning forward, I kissed the back of her neck, soft, wet kisses down her spine. I felt her quiver again at the feathery touch.

I shifted again. I couldn’t stand it, I had to feel her body against mine, soak in some of her warmth. I stretched out beside her, one leg drawn up and resting on the back of her thighs, one hand stroking and petting her back as I kissed everywhere, my lips nibbling lightly at the soft, pale skin. When I drew a slow, light line with my fingernail along her spine, from the base of her neck all the way down into the crack of her butt, I heard her whimper softly. Her hips rose up slightly, and I let my finger trail lower, scraping over the tight little rosebud, bringing a soft gasp from her lips.

Janelle’s ass clenched, then relaxed. I slid my hand over the soft, firm little globes, caressing her, squeezing gently. Her ass was so small, so perfectly formed, twin little bubbles of flesh rising in a slow swell from her lower back. I slid my fingers lower, the lightest touch of nails across the damp outer lips of her soft little pussy. Her quivering thighs twitched apart as a small mewl of pleasure escaped her throat.

Sliding downwards, I brought my mouth to those perfect little cheeks, kissing, licking lightly, nibbling with my lips and teeth. I let my fingernails trace a light, almost tickling touch along the backs of her thighs. I became aware of her breathing, shallow and rapid now; became even more aware of the scent now rising from between her legs. A warm, barely musky aroma, a mixture of her pussy and the light, clean smell of little girl sweat. It was overpowering in its very lightness, and I felt slightly dizzy as I inhaled deeply.

Skin as smooth and soft as silk. Quiet, almost whispered mewling whimpers escaping between full lips. The damp, almost solid scent rising from her body. The slender body, just beginning to take on feminine curves, but still boyish in shape. The flickering candlelight casting a warm glow across her skin. The glistening film of wetness that coated the velvety flesh of her small, perfectly shaped pussy. The quivers that gently shook her body as I touched and caressed her. All of this combined, swirling over and through my senses, filled me with a desire that I’d never felt before. I felt slightly drunk. Drunkenness such as this was something that I’d happily experience on a daily basis.

I rose up on my knees, helping Janelle to roll over and onto her back again. Her eyes stared up at me, huge with wonder and desire, and something more. Need. There was a look of pure need in her eyes; I leaned down to kiss her, and her arms came quickly around my neck, pulling our mouths together. Her lips parted as I slipped my tongue into her mouth; it was met by hers, dancing into my mouth as she whimpered her desire into my throat. I felt her legs part, widely, her knees coming up and falling to the side, inviting — no, begging me to touch her.

I continued to tease her, my fingertips playing with her pretty pink nipples, nails scraping the sensitive little discs. Dragging my mouth from hers, I drew one nipple into my mouth, sucking gently at first, then harder. I closed my teeth on it, nipping lightly, and was rewarded with a sharp and desperate, “Oh!” from Janelle as her chest rose, pressing against my face. Her hands had moved, fingers tangled in my hair as she gripped my ears, locking me in a tight, firm grasp.

I slid one hand down along her belly, nails tickling at her navel for a moment, then scraping down further until they reached the sharp rise of her mons, puffy and swollen. Her labia were parted, the pink flesh within glistening wetly. When I dragged my fingernail across the little hood covering the tiny nub of her clit, she cried out sharply, hips thrusting up from the bed as my fingers began to explore her perfect pussy. She was hot to the touch, slick with wetness.

My hunger reared up; I had to taste her, explore her in that most intimate way. I sucked hard on Janelle’s nipple, lifting my head at the same time, letting my teeth scrape it hard as it slipped from my mouth with a loud sucking sound. I came upright on my knees again, staring down at her for a moment as my hand continued to stroke and rub at her pussy.

There was a gleaming film of sweat coating her entire body. Strands of her hair clung wetly to her forehead and temples; her chest rose and fell rapidly as she panted and whimpered. Her hips were moving slowly up and down in perfect time to my fingers as they glided over the wetness of her pussy. She was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.

My body trembling with desire, I leaned down again; this time in the opposite direction. As my face came closer to the sweet juncture of her thighs, her scent became almost too much for me to bear. It rose from her pussy in a thick, sweet wave, musky and heady. I pressed my lips gently to the very top of her furrow; then, with a whimper of my own, ran my tongue down the entire length of her sex: over the still hidden nub of her clit, between the delicate inner labia, along the vaginal opening and further, to slide across the short expanse of sensitive skin below until it slithered over her tight little rosebud.

I moaned, my consciousness going sort of grey around the edges. I swooned; it’s the only word I can think of to describe what I felt. Almost a faint, but not quite. There was wetness on the insides of my thighs. I always lubricate easily, but this went beyond just lubrication. It was a small flood, leaving my skin wet and slick. Small contractions spasmed through my pussy, electric shocks of small orgasms. I hadn’t been touched, and I was coming. Minor orgasms, but orgasms nonetheless.

Lifting my head, I moved, wanting to settle myself between Janelle’s spread legs. When I broke the contact with her sopping pussy, she moaned out a desperate, “Nooo…” I positioned myself quickly, bringing my mouth back to the warmth and wetness of her sex. She locked her fingers to my ears again, holding me there, gasping and moaning. Her hips began to thrust sharply, grinding her cunt against my mouth and chin. She was lost in it now, completely unaware of anything but the sensations centered between her legs.

As my tongue began to explore, burrowing into every crevice it could find, I gazed up across the gentle slope of Janelle’s belly to her face. Her hair was now plastered to her forehead and cheeks, eyes screwed tightly shut. Her mouth was stretched into a tight O shape, small, guttural animal sounds coming in short bursts from her throat. Her skin was flushed, a deep, mottled red color that spread from her chest and up into her face. She was a picture of pure, raw, animal lust.

With a whimper, I slid one hand down between my own legs, to find my swollen clit, pressing hard on it, rubbing in small, hard circles.

There was no need for me to hold Janelle’s pussy open, her legs were splayed obscenely now, so I brought my other hand beneath her ass, lifting it as one finger probed at the tight crinkle there, gently pushing inside. She was so slick with her own secretions and my saliva that my finger slid easily into her ass, up to the first knuckle. I felt her clench tightly on my finger as she shrieked, pulling my face even harder to her cunt. Her hips began to thrust faster, harder, grinding lewdly against my face. A little animal in heat.

I slid my hand lower, driving three fingers deep into my pussy. They slid in effortlessly; I was completely soaked and ready. Moving them in rough circles, feeling the walls of my pussy spasm on them, clutching, I used the base of my thumb to push down on my clit. I moaned and shuddered; a small orgasm, one that I knew was just the appetizer.

I was now sucking and nipping at Janelle’s swollen clit. As inflamed and stiff as it was, the glans was still just a tiny, delicate little button. I could feel the shaft beneath my tongue, a hard ridge of flesh. I let go of her clit and moved so that I could stab my tongue into her wet cunt. She bucked hard, her muscles clenching on my tongue. Sweet, hot nectar flowed from her pussy, coating my lips. I swallowed it eagerly.

“Oh, oh, oh, oh…” It was all she said, over and over, as I continued to probe her ass and pussy. She was coming repeatedly, I could tell, her thighs quivering and trembling. Her cries became more drawn out, higher-pitched and louder. When her hands left my ears suddenly to slam down on the bed on either side of her, I slid my mouth back up to her clit, sucking the little button into my mouth and worrying it with my teeth. She screamed as her body went completely rigid for a moment.

When the shuddering started, coursing through her body, my own orgasm slammed into me like a freight train. I had to open my mouth wide so that I wouldn’t bite down too hard on her sensitive clit. My knees drew up until I was curled in a fetal position between Janelle’s legs, my body humming and singing through the sweetest orgasm I could ever have imagined. I didn’t just see stars, I saw explosions of light behind my eyelids. Janelle’s cries were the prettiest music I had ever heard.

My orgasm began to subside, but the aftershocks were more intense than any I had ever felt. Janelle continued to come, a seemingly endless stream of orgasms rocking her body. Her cries began to take on a slightly hysterical edge, and her hands came up from the bed, pushing me away from her pussy. Reluctantly, I let go of her clit, giving it one last swipe with my tongue as I slowly withdrew my finger from her ass. She whimpered, a breathless sound. Laying my head on her thigh, I gently cupped my hand over her pussy, feeling the wet heat that still rose from her.

Janelle was making incoherent little noises as her body twitched and quivered with the aftershocks of orgasm. Looking up, I saw her raise one hand to her face, swiping at the hair that was plastered to her skin. She was sweating heavily, chest heaving. The noises slowly calmed, turning into something like a half-giggle. As I watched her, she began to laugh and cry, at the same time, tears beginning to roll from the corners of her eyes. Quickly, I scooted up to lie beside her, folding her into my arms and holding her head to my breasts as I stroked her damp hair.

She lay there, quivering, sniffling, laughing, wiping at the tears that continued to fall.

“Oh…” she said finally. “Aunt… Meagan.” The words came out slowly, one at a time, between the deep heaving breaths she was still forcing in and out of her lungs.

I hushed her, murmuring quietly, kissing the top of her head and stroking her hair.

“I know, Sweetie,” I whispered. “I know.”

“That…” She hesitated. I didn’t say anything.

“What… What did you do?” she whispered. “That… Oh, Aunt Meagan!”

Smiling, I kissed the top of her head again.

“I made love to you, Sweetie,” I whispered. “That’s all.”

“That’s all?” she asked incredulously. “That was… That was…”

“Shhh… I know, Baby,” I whispered. “I know.”

Her small body was still trembling against mine. She snuggled in closer, stroking my breasts with her cheek as she slid one arm around my waist.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered. “I love you sooo much…”

“Oh, God, Janelle,” I said desperately, “I love you too. More than you could ever know.”

I felt her smile as she tried to wriggle her way even closer to me. “I think I know,” she said quietly. “You just showed me. Boy, did you ever show me!”

I laughed. “Come on, imp,” I said. “We’re both pretty sweaty and smelly. Let’s go take a shower.”

She nodded against my breast. “‘Kay,” she said. “And then, can we get somethin’ to eat? I’m really hungry again!”

I couldn’t help it. That comment brought peals of laughter from me that went on until my sides began to ache. Janelle slid back from me a little, looking up at my face.

“What?” she said, scowling. “I am!” It just set me off laughing again.

“Well,” I gasped, “I suppose it’s better than having a cigarette.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind, Sweetie,” I said. “I’ll explain it later.”

She was looking at me like I was slightly insane. Then she shrugged. “‘Kay,” she said. “But I don’t smoke, so I don’t get it.”

Which just set me off again. “Come on,” I said, still giggling. “Let’s go get clean and then I’ll feed you.”

We made our way to the bathroom, arms around one another. I started the water, and we waited for it to warm up.

“Aunt Meagan?”

“Yes, Baby?”

“I… I’m sorry I didn’t do anything to you. I just didn’t know what to do.” She looked worried.

“Oh, Baby,” I said as I wrapped her up in a hug, stroking her hair. “You don’t have any idea how good that was for me. Besides, we have all the time in the world for you to learn what to do. But for now, just please believe me, okay? Tonight was the most beautiful, amazing thing that I’ve ever experienced. You were wonderful.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” she said softly.

I held her face in my hands, looking into her eyes. “Yes, you did,” I said. “Janelle, you gave yourself to me. That’s a lot, and it was more than enough to make me feel very special, and very loved.”

“You really mean it?”

“Yeah, Sweetie,” I said, “I really mean it.”

She blushed and hugged me.

We showered, washing each other thoroughly. Janelle began to explore my body more confidently now, touching me under the guise of getting me clean. It was a wonderful, slow and sleepy shower; sensual, but not quite erotic. An affectionate time for both of us, an exploratory time for Janelle.

When we finished, we went to the kitchen and ate cold leftover pizza. Then we took up a position on the couch, turning the television on. I pulled the afghan from the back of the couch, covering us both. Within fifteen minutes, we were both asleep, wrapped in one another’s arms.

Continue on to Chapter 7

By Muffi

The following morning was complete bedlam. Dragging the two girls out of bed, gathering up the various items scattered around my bedroom, sorting out who belonged with what item and which bag it should go into, then herding them downstairs for breakfast, getting them dressed, getting myself dressed… Yeah, bedlam is an understatement. I honestly don’t know how a full-time parent can deal with it.

I’d brought my laptop into the bedroom before I woke the girls, setting it up on my dresser. On the pretense that I didn’t think her top really matched her jeans (yeah, right — what doesn’t go with jeans?), I’d maneuvered her into position in front of it. I’d check later to see if I’d gotten a good image.

We did manage to get out the door on time. Before we left, though, I asked Sara if she’d like to come and spend the afternoon with Janelle after school. I could take her home at some point, or Kate could run her home when she picked up Janelle. I’d work that out with Kate later on. Sara said she wasn’t sure if her mother would let her do that, so we called her before we left for school.

After a little hesitation, Colleen Davidson agreed that Sara could visit with Janelle after school, but only if she could be home in time for dinner. I assured her that that would not be a problem, and hung up the phone. I’d already given the two girls the thumbs up signal while I was talking to Colleen, and they were dancing around the kitchen excitedly.

“Okay, you two,” I said. “We don’t need to pack your things in the car, because you’ll be coming here after school. I’ll pick you up in front of school at three o’clock. Now, let’s get going.”

I followed the two girls to the garage, where they piled into the back seat of the Chevy. I made sure they were buckled in, and we headed off. Minutes later, I dropped them in front of school, where they sang out their goodbyes to me as they dashed onto the school grounds. Me, I set off for home, thinking about how I’d kill to have that much energy.

I returned home, and got the day’s work done before lunch. Very good, Meagan, I thought. At least you can focus on something besides that pretty little ass of Janelle’s.

I leaned back in the office chair, mulling over this whole crazy situation. How had it come to this — lusting after a nine-year-old girl, my own niece to boot?

Deep down inside, I knew that I’d never do anything that might hurt Janelle. She was the closest thing I’d ever have to a daughter of my own. Nevertheless, I was beginning to really hate myself for harboring these desires for her, despite knowing I’d never act on them.

I didn’t bother to call Michelle and check on any progress she might have made in finding out about Sara’s father. For one thing, I knew she’d call me when she had something to tell me; for another, I didn’t want to make a habit of calling her. Wrong impressions, and all that. The last thing I needed right then was an old lover thinking that maybe I was trying to re-ignite a fire that had guttered long ago.

I brewed a fresh pot of coffee and made a sandwich, which I ate in the office. Brushing the crumbs aside, I pulled up the webcam capture of Sara’s back that I’d caught with the laptop in the bedroom that morning. Freezing the video, I took a couple of screenshots of the angry bruise over her kidney. As I stared at the ugly purple mark, I felt my anger rise again.

I’m going to stop this son of a bitch, I thought. I am. Even if I have to kill him to do it.

Yeah, I know. Pretty self-righteous for a woman who was entertaining fantasies of molesting a nine-year-old. Somehow, though, my illicit cravings didn’t seem to compare with the abuse Sara had to endure.

The phone rang, startling me. It was Kate.

“Hey, Little Sis,” I said by way of greeting.

“Hi, Meagan,” she said. “How was your sleepover?”

“Actually, it was fun,” I replied. “We just did girly stuff, ate pizza, and watched movies. Did you and the hubby enjoy some quality alone time?”

“That’s none of your business,” she said primly.

“Since when?”

She snickered. “Okay, okay,” she laughed. “I’m walking like Annie Oakley today. Happy?”

“Bow-legged, huh? Do tell!”

“Nope. Use your imagination. You’re good at that.”

Oh, if you only knew, Kate, I thought.

“Listen,” I said, “Sara is going to come over here with Janelle after school. She has to be home in time for dinner. Do you want me to bring her home, and then drop Janelle off at your place, or do you want to pick them both up here, and bring Sara home?”

“That’s up to you,” she said. “I don’t mind taking her home.”

I thought about it for a minute. “Nah,” I said. “No worries. I’ll run her home, then drop Janelle off. You can take a break from being the taxi driver today.” I wanted to try for a little assessment of things at Sara’s home.

“Okay,” said Kate. “Talk to Michelle yet?”

“Yeah,” I said. “For now, she’s checking the records on Sara’s father. Maybe there’ll be something there we can use. I also got a good picture of her back. Used the laptop webcam this morning while she was getting dressed. That is one ugly bruise. If you want, I’ll email it to you so you can take a look.”

“Uhm, yeah, okay,” she said. “I really don’t want to see it, but if it’s got you this mad, then yeah. I need to take a look.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll send it as soon as we’re off the phone. Just make sure no one else sees it, okay?”

“Noted,” she replied.

“Okay, then,” I said. “I’ll see you around five-thirty with Janelle.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“No problem, you know that,” I replied. “See you tonight.”

“‘Bye, Meagan.”

“‘Bye.”

I logged into my email and sent Kate the picture of little Sara’s back. Five minutes later I had a reply from her.

Email deleted. That fucker!

Fucker, indeed, I thought. The fucker is about to be fucked with, too.

A little after two o’clock, the phone rang again. Kate.

“What’s up, Sis?”

“Meagan, listen,” I could hear the tears in her voice, “I need a huge favor.”

“Kate, what’s wrong?” I asked.

“It’s Michael’s father,” she said. “He had a massive stroke. We have to go see him, Meagan. Can you take Janelle for a few days?”

“Oh, God,” I said. “Of course I can. I’m so sorry, Sweetie. Is he going to be okay?”

“They don’t think so,” she replied. “That’s why we have to go right now. In case he doesn’t make it.”

“I’ll take Janelle, Kate,” I said. “Don’t worry about that. What do you want me to tell her?”

Kate hesitated. “Tell her the truth,” she said. “Don’t say right out that he probably won’t make it, but if she pushes, don’t lie.”

“Got it. You just go. I’ve got you covered with Janelle. We’ll come by after school and get her some clothes and things.”

“Thanks, Meagan,” Kate said. “I owe you one.”

“No, you don’t,” I said firmly. “We’re all family. That’s what we do.”

“Okay, I have to go, Meagan. Michael’s meeting me at home.”

“Go,” I said. “Let me know what’s going on, okay?”

“I will. ‘Bye.”

“‘Bye, Kate.”

I went into the kitchen, checking to make sure I had plenty of everything I’d need in the food department to take care of a nine-year-old for however long this might take. I’d need to get more milk, orange juice, and cereal, but otherwise, I was pretty well covered. I went into the living room and sat on the couch.

Sadness welled up in me. I truly liked Michael’s father. He was a sweet, funny guy, and he didn’t seem to have a lot of the hang-ups that some people of his generation do.

When he was informed that I’m a lesbian, he had looked at me and grinned. “Aw, now, that’s just a damn shame,” he’d said, grinning at me.

“Why’s that?” I asked, puzzled.

“Well, I was telling Michael that I was thinking of divorcing his mother and asking you to marry me,” he cackled delightedly, while his wife just rolled her eyes.

“Pay no attention to him, Meagan,” she’d said. “He’s a dirty old fart.”

Kate has never been one to overreact to things. She’d been crying, and she’d said that they didn’t think her father-in-law was going to be okay. I mentally began to prepare myself for a funeral.

And in the meantime, my dirty little mind whispered, you’ll have Janelle here with you, all to yourself…

Telling my mind to shut the hell up, I got my purse and keys and hustled to my car in the garage, then headed to the school to pick up the two girls.

I pulled up just as the bell was ringing, and a screaming mob of children came pouring out the doors of the school, headed to cars and school buses. I saw Sara and Janelle walking together, heads close; as I watched, Sara went off towards one of the school buses. Janelle saw me and waved, then ran to the car and climbed into the front seat, buckling her seat belt.

“Hi, Sweetie,” I said. “Where’s Sara going?”

“Her Mom called the school and said she had to go home right after school,” said Janelle. “Her Mom has to work, and she has to be home to heat up her Dad’s dinner.”

Doesn’t he know how to use a microwave? I thought, seething inside. “Oh, that’s too bad,” I said.

“Yeah,” said Janelle. “But she said her Mom doesn’t work day after tomorrow, so if it’s okay, maybe we can do it then?”

“Of course,” I said. “We’ll take her things back to her in a little while, too. I’m sure she’s going to need the clothes she left at my house.”

As we pulled away from the curb, I turned in the direction of Kate and Michael’s. I tried to keep things as light as I could. “Sweetie, you’re going to be staying with me for a few days,” I said. “Your Mom and Dad had to go out of town suddenly. They’ll be back soon, and I know your Mom will call you tonight.”

“How come they had to leave?” Janelle asked.

“Well,” I said slowly, “you’re Grandpa McCarthy is sick, Honey. He’s in the hospital, and your Mom and Dad have to go see him.”

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked.

“He had a stroke, Sweetie,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“Uhm, well… It means that something happened, like a blood clot, in an artery in his head. His brain wasn’t getting enough blood, and it did some damage. Sort of like a heart attack, only it’s in your brain and not in your heart.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“We don’t know, Sweetie,” I said softly. “I hope so, but we just don’t know yet. I’m sure your Mom will know more later on.”

“‘Kay,” she quietly.

We pulled into the driveway at Janelle’s house. “Come on, ” I said, “we need to get you some clothes for a few days.”

Janelle looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “Uhm, Aunt Meagan? I already have tons of stuff at your house, remember?”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” I said. “Yeah, I did forget. You’re right. Okay then, scratch the clothes idea.”

I backed out of the driveway. Janelle was smirking at me. “You’re gettin’ old, Aunt Meagan,” she said. “You forget stuff all the time!”

I reached over and dug my fingers into her ribs, bringing a shriek and making her squirm madly in her seat. “Old? OLD?? Old, am I?” I dug my fingers in more. “What are you saying, little girl?”

“Okay, okay, okay!!” she gasped, her face flushed. “You’re not old! You’re not, honest!”

I love hearing her laugh. Even more so when I cause the laughter.

Janelle was panting, still giggling from the tickling. Then she gave me a stern look. “Brat,” she said.

“That’s me,” I said, grinning at her. “By the way, have you fed Meagan yet?”

“Not yet,” Janelle said. “I hafta get some mice for her.”

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll go get a couple after school tomorrow, and stop by your house to feed her. She hasn’t eaten since I got her, so she’s probably hungry.”

“‘Kay,” she replied. “Can she eat regular mice yet?”

“Not yet,” I said. “We’ll have to get her a couple of pinkies.” Pinkies are baby mice. I looked over at her for a moment. “You know that once she’s big enough to eat regular mice, you’ll have to feed her dead ones, right?”

“Yup, I know,” said Janelle. “I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Okay, good. Some people don’t think it’s good to feed your snake dead mice or rats, but I’ve never had any problem, and Ellie and Nellie have never had a scratch. Usually a snake is fine with live mice, but rats can cause some damage. As long as Meagan will eat dead ones, you’re safer that way. You have the humidifier and the heating pad all set up, too, right?”

“Yup. And she has a warm side and a cool side.”

“Awesome!” I said.

We pulled into my driveway, but I left the Chevy out of the garage. “Tell you what,” I said. “Let’s get Sara’s things, and take them over to her house, and then on the way home we can stop and get a snack. Sound good to you?”

“Ice cream?” she asked, giving me a puppy-dog look.

“Anything you want, Sweetie,” I said.

She smiled sweetly. I melted. When Janelle smiles, I feel like an ice cream cone. One that’s been in the sun too long, and it’s gone all gooey and dripping.

Take that any way you want to. You’ll probably be right.

We went inside and upstairs to my room. Janelle looked around to make sure that there was nothing of Sara’s that had been missed, then I picked up the duffel bag, and we went back out to the Chevy.

Fifteen minutes later, we were in front of the Davidson house. We both got out, I went around to the back to unload the duffel bag, and we walked up on the porch. As I was about to knock on the door, I heard Sara’s father bellowing from inside.

“Goddammit! I told you to do yer fuckin’ homework after dinner. Just get your fuckin’ ass out there an’ clean up the kitchen. Jesus Christ, yer as fuckin’ useless as yer goddamn mother!”

I looked down at Janelle, who was staring up at me, eyes wide.

“Go back and wait in the car, Sweetie,” I said softly.

She nodded, and went back to the Chevy.

I took a deep breath. Careful, Meagan, I thought. She’s alone here with him. Don’t piss the asshole off. I knocked on the door. Loudly.

“Oh, fer Crissake,” I heard. “Now what the fuck? Sara, get in here an’ answer the goddamn door!”

Ten seconds later, I heard the doorknob rattle. The door swung open, and little Sara stood there on the other side of the screen, looking up at me. She was pale and wan. She also looked scared.

“Hi, Sara,” I said softly. “Janelle and I just came by to bring you your duffel bag. We thought you’d probably need your clothes and things.”

I looked beyond her. Lardass was sitting in the recliner, the seemingly ever-present bottle of vodka on the table next to him. He looked to be wearing the same clothes he’d had on the first time I saw him. He was greasy looking, unkempt and unshaven. I wondered vaguely if he ever worked.

Sara pushed the screen door open. I decided to take that as an invitation, and stepped through the door, duffel bag in hand. Once inside, I set it on the floor. I looked over at Lardass.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Davidson,” I said.

He peered at me through bleary eyes. Then he grunted.

“I just came by to drop off Sara’s things,” I said. “Since there was a change of plans, and they were still at my house.”

He grunted again. It might have been, “Thanks,” but somehow, I doubted that.

I turned to Sara, smiling. “Sara, Janelle said that maybe you could come over and hang out on Wednesday,” I said. “Would you like to do that?”

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Sara said. She nodded briefly and gave me a momentary smile.

“Okay then, I’ll call your Mom tomorrow, and see if we can make plans for Wednesday,” I said.

“‘Kay. Thank you.”

“No problem, Sweetie,” I said. “Janelle’s disappointed that you couldn’t come over today.”

“Me, too,” she said simply.

“You want to come talk to Janelle for a minute?”

She looked over at Lardass. He looked like we didn’t even exist. Sara nodded. As we went out the door, Lardass spoke.

“Don’t you be runnin’ off anywhere, Sara!”

“She’s just going to say hello to my niece, Mr. Davidson,” I said.

Again, the grunt. The guy was a brilliant conversationalist. People wonder why I prefer women.

We went to the Chevy. Janelle and Sara talked for a minute, making tentative plans to get together after school on Wednesday. I decided to walk her back to the door. On the way, I draped one arm over her thin shoulders.

“Hey,” I said. “It’s going to be okay, Sweetie.”

“No, it’s not,” she replied quietly.

I stopped, and squatted down in front of her, both of her upper arms gripped lightly in my hands.

“Sara, you listen to me, okay? I promise you, everything is going to be okay. I promise.” I wrapped her up in a hug.

She clung to me for a moment, then pulled away. “I better go in,” she said. She looked so damned sad.

I stood up and took her hand, and we walked back up on the porch. At the door she stopped, and turned to look up at me.

“Thanks for bringing my stuff over, Meagan,” she said.

“You’re welcome, Sara,” I replied. “I’ll call your Mom tomorrow, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said.

I watched her as she went inside and closed the door. I stood there for a minute, listening, but apparently she hadn’t pissed off Lardass by going outside for a few minutes.

Regretfully, I turned and went back to the Chevy. I hated leaving her there. I hated myself for not being able to do something right then.

When I got in the Chevy and we pulled away, Janelle was silent for a few minutes. Finally, she turned and looked at me with stricken eyes. “Why’s her Dad so mean to her, Aunt Meagan?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie,” I sighed. “I wish I did.”

More silence. Then, “He hits her, doesn’t he?”

I looked at Janelle. Her beautiful eyes were full of sadness. “Yes, he does,” I said.

“Why would he do that?” she asked.

“Because it’s the only way he thinks he can control her,” I said. “Some people are mean because it helps them feel like they’re in control of everything. He’s just like a bully at school, only he never grew out of behaving that way.”

“I hate him,” she said, her voice tense with anger. “I hate him for hurtin’ Sara.”

“So do I, Sweetie,” I said.

“Can’t somebody make him stop?”

I looked over at her again. What I heard was not what she’d said. What I heard was, “Can’t you make him stop?”

“Can you keep a secret?” I asked. She nodded. “I’m already working on it, Sweetie. I’m going to do everything I can.”

“You are? Really?”

I nodded. “Remember Michelle?” I asked.

“Yeah. She’s kinda cool.”

“Well,” I said, “she’s going to help me. She’s a police officer, so she can do things that I can’t.” Not legally, anyway, I thought.

“Cool!” Janelle said. “What’re you guys gonna do?”

“I don’t know yet,” I replied. “But Michelle is looking into it right now.”

She smiled, seemingly satisfied.

I pulled into the local Dairy Queen. When we got out, Janelle came around and hugged me, her arms locked around my waist. She looked up at me.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I smiled. “What brought that on?”

“You’re gonna try to help Sara,” she said. “Lotsa people wouldn’t bother, cause they’d say it’s none of their business.”

“Janelle, I want you to always remember something,” I said. “When someone is in trouble like that, and they don’t have any way to help themselves, it’s always your business. Especially when it’s a kid. You have a responsibility to try and help.”

“See?” she said. “That’s why I love you!”

We had our ice cream, then headed back to my house. Janelle got right into doing her homework, while I started getting things ready for dinner. Just as I was about to open my mouth and call her in to supper, she came skipping into the kitchen. “Homework’s all done!” she said.

Janelle had changed her clothes, and was now wearing just a tee-shirt and panties. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her slender legs, at the flash of panties that I got nearly every time she moved.

“What’re we havin’ for supper?” Janelle asked.

“Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and corn,” I replied. “And don’t worry, I didn’t use any onions in the meatloaf.”

Janelle giggled. “Your meatloaf is awesome, ‘cept when you put onions in it.”

We ate quietly, keeping the conversation light. I don’t think the situation with her grandfather had really set in for her. She’s only nine, after all. She knew what death meant, but mostly when it came to animals. With people, especially those close to her, the idea of their mortality had yet to make itself known. He was still alive, just sick, so as far as she was concerned, there was nothing to get upset about yet.

As we were cleaning up the kitchen, the phone rang. I answered — it was Kate.

“Hi, Kate,” I said. “How’s Michael’s Dad?”

“He’s not good, Meagan,” she replied. “He’s holding on, but they don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”

“Oh, Kate… I’m so sorry. Do you want to talk to Janelle?”

“Yeah, please,” she replied.

I headed back to the kitchen and handed the phone to Janelle. “It’s your Mom,” I said.

“Hi, Mom,” said Janelle. “How’s Grampa?” There was silence for a few moments. “Do you think I’ll be able to see him before… well, you know…” That didn’t sound good. “Please, Mom?… Yes, I can… I’m sure, yeah… okay, hang on.”

She handed the phone back to me, deep concern in her eyes. “Mom wants to talk to you.”

“What’s up, Kate?”

“Listen, I hate to ask you this,” she said, “I really do. But Janelle really wants to see her grandfather before it’s too late. Can you…”

“You don’t even have to ask, Kate, you know that,” I said. “When do you want her there?”

“The doctors say it’s going to be slow,” Kate said. “Why don’t we plan on Friday? That way she doesn’t have to try to entertain herself too much.”

“Before or after school?” I asked.

“Uhm… I don’t want you to have drive at night after you’ve been up all day. You can keep her out of school Friday, and just head up here whenever you’re ready to leave.”

“Fine,” I said, “we’ll plan to leave early Friday morning then. If you need us there sooner, just call me, and we’ll head right out.”

“Thanks, Meagan,” Kate said. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Pine away, living a life full of loneliness?”

“Yeah, right,” she said. I heard the smile in her voice. That was good.

“Then we’ll see you Friday, Kate. You want to talk to Janelle again?”

“Yeah, please. thanks, Meagan. ‘Bye.”

“‘Bye, Kate.”

I handed the phone back to Janelle. “Hi, Mom,” she said quietly. “Okay. I’ll see you Friday. And Mom? Would you give Grampa a kiss from me?… ‘Kay. Talk to you later. ‘Bye, Mom.”

Janelle turned off the phone and set it on the table, continuing to help me clean up the kitchen.

“You okay, Sweetie?” I asked.

She nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “Just kinda sad. It sucks that people hafta die.”

“It does, Sweetie. Just remember, it’s a part of life. We all die someday.”

“I know,” she said. “But it still sucks.”

I looked at Janelle for a moment. I knew that Kate trusts my judgment with things like this, so I felt okay with what I was about to ask.

“Janelle, do you want to just skip school tomorrow, and hang out here with me instead?”

She thought about it for a minute, then nodded. “You think it’s okay to do that, Aunt Meagan?”

“Yeah, Sweetie, I do,” I said. “I’ll call the school first thing in the morning and tell them you won’t be there.”

“‘Kay. Thanks, Aunt Meagan.”

We finished cleaning up the kitchen, and then went to the living room to watch television. Janelle didn’t really want to do anything, so I turned the idiot box to something mindless but entertaining. I sat on one end of the couch. Janelle scooted over and sat close to me, drawng my arm around her shoulders. I’m ashamed to admit that even then, under the circumstances, I was deeply aware of her warm, soft little body pressed close to mine. She snuggled up close, and we just sat quietly, watching television.

When one sitcom was over, I maneuvered myself so that I could stand up. “I’m going to go get changed, Sweetie,” I said. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

“‘Kay,” she said, and nodded.

As I came back down the stairs in my tee-shirt and panties, the phone rang again. It was Michelle.

“Hi, Michelle,” I said.

“Hi, Meagan,” she answered. “How are you?”

“Well, pretty good, I guess. I’ve been better.” I explained what was going on.

“Aw, man, that really sucks. I’m sorry, Meagan.”

“Thanks,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Well, I did some digging into your little friend’s Daddy,” she said. “He’s got a record. Just minor stuff, though; some alcohol related fights, drunk and disorderly, a couple of DUIs, that kind of thing.”

“No history of abuse?” I asked.

“Not on record. But that doesn’t mean anything.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I told her what I’d seen and heard earlier that day.

“Jesus Christ,” she grated. It sounded like her teeth were clenched.

“Yeah,” I said. “It killed me having to drive away and leave her there.”

“Okay, well,” she said, “at this point, there’s not a lot we can do, unless you want to file a formal report about the bruise. Honestly, I don’t see that having much effect in the long run.”

“So what do you want to do?” I asked.

“I want you and I to go pay him a visit,” she said. “We need to have a little talk with him. Alone, if we can swing it.”

I thought for a minute. “I know his wife is working tomorrow,” I said. “But Sara will be there, and I’ve got Janelle right now, too.”

“She works afternoons?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Okay, how about this,” she said. “You and I and Janelle will go over there after school tomorrow. We can get Sara out of the house, and to the car to talk to Janelle. Then you and I can have a quiet little chat with this bastard.”

“Are you coming in uniform?”

“No,” she said. “I want to keep it completely unofficial right now. I’ve always got my badge, and if he needs to be reminded that the law can be brought into it, I can shove that in his face.”

Somehow, I could actually see her doing just that. And then grinding it in until his face was shredded.

“Okay, that works for me,” I said. “Why don’t you come here at about three-thirty or so?”

“I’ll be there,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll you see then,” I said. “And Michelle? Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” she replied. “Even though it’s unofficial, it’s still my job.”

Yeah, she’s one of those twenty-four-seven kind of cops.

“Talk to tomorrow, then.” I said. ” ‘Bye.”

“Bye.” She hung up the phone.

I was going to have to talk to Janelle about what was happening. She’d know something was up as soon as the three of us went to Sara’s house the next day, especially since Michelle would be with us.

The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t like it. I didn’t think the girls should be there while we talked to Sara’s father. If the guy was drunk, who knows how he’d react? I didn’t like the idea of Sara seeing it if something got out of hand. Michelle could handle Lardass, I was certain of that. But asshole or not, the guy was still her father. I called Michelle back.

“Listen,” I said, when she answered her phone. “I’m not sure about this.”

“What do you mean?”

I explained what I’d been thinking. She took a deep breath when I finished.

“You’re right,” she said. “Bad idea. So now what?”

“Let’s try for Wednesday,” I said. “Hopefully, Sara will be here for a few hours in the afternoon. I trust the two of them alone for a little while here, as long as they keep the doors locked and stay inside. We can run out, have our little chat, and they won’t be anywhere around.”

“I can do that,” said Michelle. “I’ll swap shifts with someone, get Wednesday off.”

“Good,” I said. “Plan to meet me here at about the same time? Three-thirty or so?”

“I’ll be there.”

I hung up the phone, and went back into the living room. Janelle was still on the couch, watching another sitcom. I sat down next to her, and we settled back into position with her snuggled up against my side.

It wasn’t too long before I felt her breathing deepen and even out. She’d fallen asleep next to me. Rather than wake her up, I carefully stood, laying her down on the couch. I went and got a quilt and a pillow, and settled her to sleep. She’d be fine on the couch for the night.

Not to mention that I wouldn’t have to try coping with her being in my bed. A one night reprieve.

As I turned off the television, I noticed that Ellie and Nellie seemed to be looking at me with approval in their eyes.

See? I’m a good girl, I said to them silently.

No response. Just a steady look.

I turned off the television, then turned and went upstairs to my room. I swung the door almost shut, leaving it just a little ajar. Turning on the bedside lamp, I flipped off the bright overhead, stripped my tee-shirt and panties off, and then slid gratefully into bed. And of course, if it’s at all possible, and it usually is, I always masturbate before I go to sleep. Since Janelle was on the couch, I was safe.

This time, I didn’t even try to be good. Images came flooding into my mind, and I reveled in them. As my hands and fingers roamed my body, I closed my eyes, reliving scenes from the past few days.

Standing in the shower, Janelle’s naked body shining and wet as my hands gently scrubbed her back. Janelle in my bedroom, wearing just a pair of panties, smiling at me. Janelle skipping into the kitchen earlier that evening, the cleft of her sex clearly outlined through her panties each time she moved.

I was breathing hard, my body humming like I had a finger plugged into an electrical outlet. I moaned, once, as the first wave rolled over me, my fingers moving wetly through the warm folds and crevices of my pussy.

“Aunt Meagan?”

Oh, fuck…

There was no hiding what I’d been doing. I was on my back, legs splayed open, one hand tugging at my nipples while the other was busily plunging three fingers in and out of my pussy. I grabbed for the sheet, and with as much dignity as possible under the circumstances, covered myself up. Janelle was standing in the doorway, staring at me with wide eyes. I cleared my throat.

“Uhm…” I faltered for a moment. “Hi, Sweetie. Couldn’t sleep?” She shook her head, but stayed rooted to the spot. “You want to get in with me?”

As though she’d been waiting for permission, she flashed me a pretty smile, nodded, and came quickly to my bed, crawling in next to me. She pulled the covers up over herself and settled herself onto the pillow.

Neither of us said anything for a few moments. I was too embarrassed. I didn’t know what to say.

“You do it, too, Aunt Meagan?” Janelle finally said. Her voice was quiet, but full of curiosity.

Too? I thought.

“Do what, Sweetie?” I replied. Trying to play stupid. Yeah, right. That would work.

“You know… Touch yourself. Down there…”

“Uhm… Well, yeah, I do. I’m sorry you walked in on me, Sweetie. I should have kept in mind that you’re here with me right now.”

“It’s okay,” Janelle said shyly. “I don’t mind.”

She was silent for a few moments. I thought that she was probably drifting back to sleep.

“I do it, too,” she whispered shyly.

I felt a warmth spread through my groin at these words, and I had a sudden mental image of Janelle on my bed, naked, playing with herself.

“Well,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm, “that’s not unusual. Most everybody does it.”

I saw her nod in the low light from the bedside lamp. “That’s what Mom told me,” she said.

Ah, I thought. Kate caught her masturbating.”Well, she was right,” I replied.

“She said as long as I try to be careful an’ keep it private, there’s nothin’ wrong with touching myself there.”

“Well,” I said, “there isn’t. It’s just embarrassing when you get caught doing it.”

Janelle nodded and grinned. “I know,” she said. “I thought I was gonna die when Mom caught me. She was really cool, though. She said it’s something I can do whenever I want to, long as I keep it private. She even said she does it sometimes. I’ve never seen her do it, though. I’ve never seen anybody do it till just now.”

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept my mouth shut.

“It was kinda cool seein’ you do it,” she said quietly. When I didn’t respond, she added, “You aren’t mad at me, are you, Aunt Meagan? Cause I saw you doing it, I mean?”

“Oh, God no, Sweetie,” I said. “You just caught me by surprise, and I was embarrassed.”

She sighed, apparently satisfied. As for me, my mind was in a whirl. I was lying here, in my bed, Janelle next to me, and we were discussing masturbation. I was confused, scared, and hornier than I could ever remember being in my life.

“Aunt Meagan?”

“Hmmm?”

“Is it weird that… well… am I weird, cause I liked watching you do it?”

Jesus, I thought. How the hell do I answer this one?

“No, Sweetie, you’re not weird,” I said. “You saw me doing something that you like to do to yourself. Why shouldn’t you enjoy seeing someone else do it?”

“Do you like to watch people touch themselves?”

“Uhmm… Well, yeah, I guess I do,” I said softly.

We were both silent for a few minutes, then I heard Janelle sigh again. “Aunt Meagan?”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

“Do you wanna watch me do it?” It came out in an almost inaudible whisper.

Oh, dear God, I thought. My mind was screaming, No! No, please, for fuck’s sake, I can’t! I can’t!

My mouth betrayed me, though. “If you’d like me to, yes,” I murmured. “I think I’d like that very much.”

I turned onto my side and looked at Janelle. She was gazing at me, a strange look in her eyes. It took me a moment to recognize it. Lust. Janelle was turned on by the thought of masturbating for me.

I’m lost, I thought.

Janelle sat up and quickly removed her tee-shirt. Lying back down, she lifted her hips, pushing her panties down her thighs, then taking them off completely. My breath caught as she lay back down, completely naked, staring at me for a moment. Then she smiled. “It feels nice down there already,” she whispered.

I’m just going to watch, I told myself. I’m not going to touch her, not going to do anything to her. I’m just watching. Where’s the harm in that?

I raised my upper body from the bed, supporting myself with one hand against the side of my neck, weight on my elbow. I let my other hand rest on my hip.

God, she was beautiful! So slender, her skin pale in the dim light, with her small, flat nipples visible, the palest pink I’ve ever seen, like the inside of a seashell. My eyes traveled over her body, down across her flat little belly, down the length of her slim legs, now parted slightly. Back up, to her center, her sex. Her mons was prominent, a defined rise jutting up from the juncture of her thighs, her labia puffy with baby fat.

As I watched, one of her hands slid slowly over her belly, fingertips rubbing gently against her smooth vulva, down between her the tops of her thighs. I felt a stab of pleasure as my pussy contracted. Her eyes never left my face.

“I have this one spot,” she whispered, “right here. When I touch it, it feels sooo good…”

I watched her finger slip between the outer lips of her pussy, sliding over the nub of her clit, tucked beneath its little hood. Her hips twitched slightly, and she gasped softly. “That’s the best,” she whispered.

I was in a trance. I couldn’t believe that I was lying there, naked, watching Janelle masturbate for me. It was the most beautiful sight that I had ever seen in my life. It was also the most erotic thing I’d ever experienced. I could feel wetness flowing freely from my pussy. It was torture to make myself just lie there and do nothing, only watch this beautiful little girl pleasure herself for me.

Janelle’s hand was moving rhythmically now, sliding up and down through the slippery crease of her vagina. She was clearly enjoying this; I could see her fingers glistening with moisture, and I could hear quiet little liquid sounds. Her eyes slowly drifted shut, her lips parting slightly as she began to pant a little bit.

As if it was no longer under my conscious control, my free hand slid between my own legs, unconsciously mimicking Janelle’s movements. I gasped, and Janelle’s eyes opened. She smiled dreamily when she saw what I was doing.

“That… looks so… so cool, Aunt Meagan…” she whispered the words breathlessly.

I shuddered, and went over the top. It wasn’t any kind of an earth-moving orgasm. It was just a very nice, very quick, rippling kind of climax. My thighs clamped down on my hand as I gasped and whimpered, a small gush of fluid coating my fingers.

Janelle smiled. “You did it,” she whispered. Her hand was moving faster now, the wet sounds coming from her pussy providing a counterpoint to her breathless panting.

Again of its own accord, my free hand, wet with my juices, reached over to Janelle. I began to touch her pale pink nipples — first one, then the other, with small circular motions. They glistened in the light, my wetness coating them.

Janelle’s thighs clamped together, trapping her fingers in the folds of her pussy. Her eyes scrunched shut, and she began to gasp her way through an orgasm. The child’s hips thrust upwards in sharp, quick little movements as she pressed her fingers tightly into her sex. I watched Janelle shiver and twitch, her whole body quivering with release.

When it had passed, she relaxed slowly, her hand slipping from between her legs as she took a deep, deep breath, then released it slowly.

I couldn’t help myself. I reached down and took her hand in mine. Bringing her fingers to my lips, I took them one by one into my mouth, sucking the wetness from them, savoring the clean, sweet taste of her pussy. She watched me intently, seemingly fascinated by this.

When I’d finished, she brought my hand to her mouth without a word. Tentatively, she extended her tongue to taste my index finger. Then she drew it into her mouth, giving the same attention to me that I’d bestowed on her.

God, what was she doing to me? I could feel a fresh wave of fluid oozing from my cunt, coating my inner thighs.

Finished tasting my honey, Janelle clasped my hand in both of hers, pressing it to her chest. She gazed up at me, smiling, a languid look in her eyes.

“That was nice, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered.

I leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly, my lips lingering on her soft skin.

“That was the nicest thing I can ever remember doing, Sweetie,” I said.

I drew Janelle into my arms, holding her to my breasts, drinking in the warmth and softness of her naked body. I stroked her hair, kissing the top of her head every now and then. She snuggled in close to me, her head resting on one breast.

“Aunt Meagan… does this mean I’m a lesbian now?”

I smiled, but didn’t laugh. Laughing at her was the last thing on my mind. “The only thing this means, Sweetie,” I said, “is that you and I just shared something very beautiful and very special together. It means that we love each other enough to be close like this.”

“‘Kay,” she whispered. “Cause if I am, it doesn’t matter. If bein’ a lesbian means I get to feel like that, then I don’t see how it could ever be bad.”

I hugged her tightly. “No matter what you are, Janelle, I’ll always love you, because you’ll always be you.”

I could feel her smile against my breast. Less than five minutes later, she was asleep in my arms.

Oh, I was going to hate myself for this in the morning. I knew that it should never have happened. At that moment, though, I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t regret it, not yet. I would, but I’d deal with that when the time came. For now, I just wanted to drift along forever on this amazing afterglow. I closed my eyes, and sank slowly into a quiet, peaceful slumber, holding Janelle close.

Continue on to Chapter 6

By Muffi

We collected up the mountain of luggage and carried it up the stairs to my room. Sara was impressed by my playground-sized bed, and she thought the mirrored walls were “really cool.” I was thanking whatever deity was responsible for the fact that I’d never installed a ceiling mirror. Try explaining that to a nine-year-old girl.

Why do I have a mirror on the ceiling? Oh, I’m just so pretty, I like to fall asleep looking at myself.

“Aunt Meagan, are we gonna go any place today?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie, why?”

“Cos if we’re not,” she said, “then we don’t have to stay dressed. We can put on PJs or sweats or something.”

Yeah, it was going to be a long day and night.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know. Do you two want to do anything special, or do you want to just hang out and watch movies and do silly girl stuff?”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment.

“Movies and girl stuff!” shrieked Janelle.

“Yeah, movies and girl stuff!” Sara joined in, the two of them jumping up and down.

“Well, you two are easy to please,” I said. “Okay, movies and girl stuff it is.”

Two backpacks were thrown to a corner of the room. From the sound of it, they were both filled with school books. Sara opened her duffel bag, and Janelle was ripping into one of her other backpacks. Little girl clothing started to fly about the room as they rummaged around looking for something suitable to change into. I shook my head. Clean up was going to be fun, trying to sort out who owned what.

Almost before I knew it, I was in the presence of two little nine-year-old girls wearing nothing but panties and socks. They were both sorting through tee-shirts, searching out which they wanted to wear.

Dear God. Be still, my beating heart, I thought.

Fortunately for me, my back was facing the corner of the room where the two mirrored walls come together. I say fortunately because if I’d been looking at the mirrors, I would have been looking at multiple images of them. One of each was enough, thank you. More than that, I couldn’t handle right now.

Janelle was facing away, which gave the fast-growing pervert in me a chance to gaze at her cute little panty-clad ass for a moment. I had to tear my eyes away, or risk being caught drinking in that delicious sight. Jesus, I had descended into utter depravity.

Sara had already pulled a mid-thigh length tee-shirt over her head. I was grateful. The length would keep any flashing of her panties to a minimum. Janelle, on the other hand, had chosen a tee-shirt that fell only to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her pert little ass.

I was doomed. Fucking doomed.

Janelle spun around and stared at me expectantly. “Well? Aren’t you gonna wear something comfy, too, Aunt Meagan?”

Mentally shaking myself, I gave the girls a nervous smile. “Yup, I am,” I mumbled.

I kicked off my sneakers, then shucked out of my jeans and pulled my shirt off. I was acutely aware of the two little girls standing there, watching me change. Being aware of that, it seemed that I just couldn’t help myself. I slowed my movements. Perverted as it was, I wanted to parade around half naked for them.

Exhibitionist that I am, I bent at the waist and dug through my drawer for a few moments, knowing I was giving them a blatant view of my ass. Then I straightened up and turned around, holding a tee-shirt. I raised my arms and let it fall over me, hoping, without daring to look, that the girls had been peeking at my breasts.

In my head I could hear Ellie and Nellie from the living room. We’re watching you…

“Okay, you two,” I said, shaking out my hair. “Why don’t you go down and find a movie you want to watch, and I’ll go make some popcorn. Sound good?”

It must have sounded good, because the two girls disappeared almost in a blink.

I have a fairly extensive collection of DVDs. A good portion of them are kids movies. Having Janelle around a lot gives me a good excuse to have them. Besides, I like Disney movies. Sue me.

When I’d finished the popcorn — which took a few minutes since I make the real kind, done in a pot on the stove and slathered with butter and salt — I returned to the living room to find that we weren’t watching a Disney movie after all. Close enough, though. The girls had put chosen Madagascar. I could live with that. Chris Rock as the annoying Marty the Zebra never fails to make me giggle.

I handed each girl a couple of paper towels and put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. They sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, while I sat on the couch, one girl on either side of my feet. I passed out cans of ginger ale to the girls, cracked one open for me, and settled in to watch.

There was little discussion through the movie. When it was over, I was left with two little girls whose faces and hands were smeared with melted butter, so I herded them into the kitchen for a wipe down. That accomplished, we returned to the living room, and began the next feature, which natually was Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa.

As the movie was loading, Sara noticed that Janelle’s toenails were painted to match her fingernails. “You got painted toenails, too? That’s cool!”

Janelle proudly held a foot up for display. “I was ‘posed to wear sandals yesterday for my party, but then I talked my Mom into lettin’ me wear that leather outfit, instead of the dress ‘n sandals she wanted me to wear. Aunt Meagan painted ’em for me. Want yours done, too? I bet she’d paint ’em for ya if ya do.”

My services were being volunteered. Goody.

Janelle had turned to face me. “Wouldn’t’cha, Aunt Meagan?”

“If Sara wants me to, sure,” I said. Sara’s grin told me all I needed to know.

I gathered the necessary items together, and sat down cross-legged on the living room floor. Sara sat in front of me, clearly thrilled. I began to repeat the process that I had gone through with Janelle a couple of days ago. Sara seemed to share Janelle’s propensity for having squirmingly ticklish feet. Getting cotton balls inserted between her toes took a few minutes.

Once her toenails were finished, I asked Sara if she’d like me to paint her fingernails as well. She loved the idea.

Welcome to Meagan Bristol’s Nail Salon. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d done my own nails, prior to preparing for Janelle’s birthday party. Anyhow, I told her that we should let her toes dry completely before painting her fingernails.

As suppertime came closer and closer, I asked Sara what she likes on pizza. Cheese and pepperoni. Of course.

“No mushrooms?” Janelle asked incredulously.

Sara shook her head vigorously. “Mushrooms’re gross!” she proclaimed.

Three small pizzas, then. One with pepperoni and mushrooms, one with pepperoni only, and a third with everything, including the kitchen sink. The girls squinched their faces in disgust when they heard me specify extra anchovies on mine.

Several hours later, I told the girls that it was time to think about getting ready for bed. “You two have school tomorrow,” I reminded them, “so you need to either shower or take a bath. Which do you want?”

They wanted to shower. Then they decided that it was just as easy to take one together. I herded them up the stairs to my room, where they each pulled out clean pairs of panties, then ambled into the bathroom. The two tee-shirts hit the floor along the way, their socks close behind. Finally, two pairs of panties wound up in a small heap next to the bath mat.

I turned on the shower, doing my best to avoid looking at either girl any more than I absolutely had to. My heart was throbbing like a V-8 engine.

Two naked little girls climbed into the shower. I heard some squealing for a moment, then Janelle piped up. “Aren’t you gonna take a shower, too, Aunt Meagan?”

I froze. “Uhmm, it’s okay, Sweetie. I can take mine when you and Sara are finished.”

“But why?” she asked, in perfect innocence. “There’s room for all of us.”

She was right. My shower is roomy.

Watch your step, I heard Ellie and Nellie say from the living room.

Half of me wanted to avoid that shower at all costs. That part, the sensible part, wanted to run into the bedroom and hide until the girls were finished.

That part lost the argument. With shaking hands, I pulled my tee-shirt over my head, then shoved my panties down, stepping out of them. “Okay, coming in,” I said, taking a deep breath as I opened the shower door.

Two drenched little girls were waiting for me, their hair slicked back and streaming water down over their little butts. The water made their little bodies gleam in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. They were both grinning widely at me.

I was glad for the water. It would have been awkward trying to explain the wetness growing between my thighs without the water to camouflage it.

As I began to soap myself, Sara looked at me with a growing curiosity. “How come you don’t have hardly any hair down there?” she asked.

“Uhmm… well, because I shave most of it off,” I said. For some reason, I felt mildly embarrassed.

Janelle was staring at my pussy openly, puzzlement showing plainly on her face. I wondered if she had just never noticed my lack of pubes before, or if she’d been reluctant to ask about it. She must not have noticed. Believe me, there are precious few questions that Janelle would hesitate to ask.

“How come?” Sara asked.

It just feels so much nicer when I touch myself, or when someone else touches me, without the hair there. Yeah, sure. I’ll bet her parents would really appreciate that explanation.

“I just don’t like to have a lot of hair on my body,” I replied. “Hair is for men.”

“My mom has hair down there,” Sara responded.

“Well, I would too, if I didn’t shave it off.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to shave it?” she asked.

“No,” I replied with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt.”

They were both still staring openly at my vulva. Be careful what you wish for, Meagan. You wanted to show your body off for the girls a few minutes ago. Looks like you got your wish. Unsettling, isn’t it?

“Besides,” I said, doing my best to ignore that voice in my head. “I think it’s prettier without all that hair there.”

“But nobody ever sees it,” said Janelle. “Who cares what it looks like?”

“I see it,” I replied. “My girlfriends see it. Besides, you two are seeing it right now, aren’t you?”

“That’s different,” said Janelle. “We’re taking a shower.”

Time to end this conversation. “Okay, cut it out, you guys! I just don’t like all that hair down there, okay?”

Both girls looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I felt like a complete fool. Suddenly, Janelle handed me the soap. “Do our backs, Aunt Meagan?”

I took the soap with shaking hands. As they turned, I closed my eyes for a moment. Give me strength, please, I begged silently to some god out there. Preferably, one who looks out for gay women.

I grabbed a washcloth from the bar on the inside of the shower door. That’ll work, I told myself. If I use a washcloth, I won’t feel their soft, smooth skin under my fingers.

Calmer now, I lathered up the washcloth and began to scrub Janelle’s back. Yeah, sure. I wasn’t conscious at all of running my hand over the body of a naked little girl. No problem here, no sirree.

As I began to scrub lower, moving onto the swell of her little ass, my eyes were riveted to the swelling globes. So cute, so perfectly formed…

Stop it!

I quickly finished with Janelle’s back, then turned to Sara. I started at her shoulders, and worked my way down. Then I gasped.

At the small of her back, just above her pelvic bone, there was a dark, purplish bruise. It was a rounded rectangular shape. I stared at it for a moment, slowing down my scrubbing, trying to figure out what it looked like. Then it dawned on me.

I closed my hand for a moment and studied it. The bruise was a perfect imprint of a fist. Sara had been punched in the kidney. Hard. The bruise was much bigger than my own closed fist.

Whoever had hit her had big hands. A man’s hands.

I felt anger bubbling up inside of myself. No, that’s a lie. I felt rage starting to boil over.

Somehow I forced myself to stay calm as I continued to wash Sara’s back. When I finished, being careful to avoid what looked like a very painful bruise, I kept my voice neutral. “What happened to your back, Sara?”

“Huh?” She hesitated. “Oh… uh, I fell.”

“Ouch,” I said. “That must have hurt. Looks like it still does.” Janelle was looking at Sara’s back, too.

“It hurt at first,” she said. “But it’s not so bad now.”

“How’d you fall?” I asked her.

“I, uh… I tripped going up the steps on the porch,” she said.

Which would have caused you to fall face forward, I thought, the rage continuing to build.

I decided to stop questioning Sara. It was obviously making her nervous. I’d sort out what to do next after I thought about it, hopefully calmed down a bit. That wouldn’t be easy.

“Next time, be more careful going up the stairs, silly!” I told her.

She had turned to face me again, now. She smiled nervously at me, nodding. “I will,” she said. “Sometimes I’m clumsy. That’s what my dad says.”

Clumsy. Yeah, sure. So clumsy of you, Sara, running into his fist like that. You need to learn to be more careful.

Our eyes remained locked for a moment. I knew. She knew that I knew. She looked away.

I tried to bring back the light mood from before. “C’mon, you two! Wash your hair, and then let’s get out of here and have cookies and milk in bed!”

Janelle squealed with delight. So did Sara, but a beat late. She was smiling like Janelle, but the smile seemed forced. I could tell that she was trying to bring back the happy vibe from before, to forget that bruise on her back.

The three of us got our hair washed, rinsed and conditioned, and got out of the shower. We dried off, the two girls put their clean panties on, I slipped into my tee-shirt, then they followed me to the bedroom. They wriggled back into their tee-shirts, I stepped into my panties on, and we all crawled onto the bed.

Now what? Well, for starters, I had to get Sara alone to question her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax, much less sleep, until I found out how she got that ugly mark on her back.

“Janelle,” I said, “why don’t you turn on the TV and find something we can watch in bed?” Then I turned to Sara, giving her a big smile. “Sara, would you help me get cookies and milk for all of us?”

She got down from the bed, still trying her best to be cheerful. It made me ache inside, seeing this soft-spoken little girl suppressing her feelings behind a strained grin.

I tossed Janelle the remote for the small bedroom television, and Sara and I went to the kitchen for snacks.

When we got to the kitchen, I placed my cookie jar on the table, then put a large plate next to it. “Can you fill up the plate, Sweetie?” I said. “Pile them as high as you can… I think we’re all pretty hungry.”

I silently poured three glasses of milk, then put the carton back in the refrigerator. Then I sat down at the table and took Sara’s right hand, looking into her frightened eyes.

“Sara, I’m not going to try and make you tell me anything that you don’t want to,” I said, calmly as I could. “But you and I both know that you didn’t hurt your back like that falling on your porch steps.”

I could feel her shiver. “I… I d-don’t…” She fell silent.

“Someone hit you,” I said simply. She looked away, unable to meet my gaze. I felt her trying to pull away, but held onto her hand. “I’m not going to push you, Sweetie,” I said. “But if you ever need anything, if you ever need help, or just someone to talk to, all you have to do is ask me, okay?”

Sara’s head moved in a barely-perceptible nod.

I wasn’t sure how she’d take it, but I did it anyway: I wrapped my arms around the child and hugged close, careful to avoid her lower back. She smelled sweet and clean, freshly showered.

What she said next made me freeze, catching my breath.

“Sometimes I’m bad.”

When I could breathe again, I drew back, seeking her eyes. She wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t believe that, Sara,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “I am,” she said. “My dad gets mad at me sometimes, ’cause I’m bad.”

Using every ounce of inner strength I had to remain calm, I put my hands on her shoulders and waited for her eyes to meet mine before I spoke. “Sara, listen to me, okay? I don’t care what you might do to make your father angry with you. No one deserves to be hit. No one, not for any reason. Do you understand? No one has any right to hurt you.”

She didn’t look as if she believed me. I didn’t want to push her any further, though. It felt like a victory that I’d gotten her to open up to me this much. Best to let her decide if, and when, she wanted to say more.

“Come on,” I said, clearly changing the subject. “Janelle must be wondering why we’re taking so long.”

Sara smiled wanly and nodded. I handed her two glasses of milk, and picked up the plate of cookies and my own glass. We headed back up to the bedroom without a word.

The upside? I was no longer fighting my feelings of lust at being so close to two barely dressed little girls. Lust was the last thing on my mind right now.

Okay, let’s clarify that. Sexual lust was gone. There was still lust there. This was more on the order of bloodlust, though. I welcomed it.

Less than an hour later, the two girls were sleeping soundly. I turned the volume down on the television, but left it turned on. Then I padded out to the hall and went to my office, where I picked up the phone and called Kate.

After I’d apologized for calling late, I explained everything that had happened. She was silent for a moment when I’d finished.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said quietly.

“Jesus has nothing to do with this, Kate,” I said.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “You know how Social Services works in this state. They’ll investigate, he’ll cry and say he’s sorry, they drop the case, and then he’ll be twice as hard on her after they stop breathing down his neck. I don’t even want to think about what Sara’s mother must have to deal with.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “So now what?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know that Sara is going to be asked to spend as much time as possible with Janelle. That way, she’ll have more time away from him. The two of them can hang out here after school. At least that gives her a few extra hours of peace every day.”

“But that still doesn’t solve anything,” she said quietly.

“No, it doesn’t,” I said. “Let me think on this for a little bit.” There was a tiny seed of an idea beginning to sprout in my mind. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Like who?”

“Well, like Michelle.”

“The cop? I thought you two weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Not romantically. But we’re still friends. And she’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.”

“Well, it’s a place to start, I guess,” she said.

“Yeppers. And I’m going to have Sara call her mother in the morning. See if it’s okay for her to come over here and hang out with Janelle after school.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” She paused. “We have to do something, Meagan.”

“Yes, we do,” I replied. “I’m not going to let that fucker keep hurting her. She’s nine years old, for God’s sake. I’ll put a bullet in his head myself, if I have to.”

Kate was silent for a moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Meagan, please,” she said. “I know it’s hard to think about Sara having to be in that situation for one more second. But you won’t solve anything if you get into trouble trying to help her.”

I sighed. My little sister, the voice of fucking reason. She was right, though. “Yeah, yeah,” I said.

“I know. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Uh, Meagan? You are being good. You’re trying to help a little girl. What I’m saying is that you need to be patient, no matter how hard that might be.”

I hate it when Kate is right.

“I know. Listen, I’m going to get off here, and give Michelle a call. I want to try to figure out my next step here.”

“Okay, hon,” she said. “Keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “Night.”

“Night, big sister.”

I hung up the phone and stood, pacing back and forth in the office for a few moments. I went to the kitchen, and poured myself a short shot of whiskey, tossed it back, and decided to bite the bullet. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the phone.

Like Kate said, Michelle is an ex-girlfriend of mine. We had a brief, but extremely intense relationship. What ended things was that we were simply too alike in personality. We both tend to be dominating women, and the constant struggle for power destroyed any chance there might have been for a long-term thing between us.

When we parted, Michelle and I stayed friends, though it was always a rather uneasy friendship. Too much history, I suppose.

But our personal issues aside, Michelle is a genuinely good person, and a hell of a cop. You constantly hear policemen saying that they took up the badge “to help people,” which is one of the oldest cliches in the book – but in her case, it’s the truth. That whole “To Protect and Serve” mentality is something that she truly believes and lives.

She’d be able to offer a sounding board for me, if nothing else. And because this involved a little girl being harmed, she’d be every bit as passionate about this situation as I was.

I dialed Michelle’s cell number from memory. She answered immediately, a hint of surprise in her voice. It had been a few months since I last called. “Meagan? What’s up?”

“Michelle, hi,” I said. Skipping the preliminaries, I got right to it. “Listen, I’ve got a problem, and I need some advice.”

“What’s up?” she said.

“First, are you on duty?” I asked.

“Nope. Just signed out.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That meant she wouldn’t be called away unexpectedly.

I spilled the whole thing, from the first time that I’d met Sara, to my conversation with her in the kitchen earlier tonight. I didn’t leave anything out, with one exception: Sara’s last name. I wanted to hear what Michelle had to say first. If she went all by-the-book on me, I’d keep Sara’s identity to myself. Somehow, I knew that going through the official channels would probably do more harm than good with this situation. My hope was that Michelle would feel the same way.

When I’d finished, Michelle was silent for a moment. “Son of a bitch,” she finally hissed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Michelle, this bruise on her back… that fucker punched her hard. Right in the kidney, for Christ’s sake.”

I heard her suck in a deep breath. “Don’t tell me who he is,” she said. “If I know, I’ll have to do something official.”

“Okay,” I said. Good. She wasn’t going to be the cop for this.

“Listen,” she said, “is there any way you can get a picture of her back? I mean, without letting her know what you’re doing?”

“Maybe,” I replied. “What for?”

“Because, if all else fails,” she said, “and it has to go into the system, you’re going to want documentation of any injuries.”

I thought for a moment. “Uhmm… I could set up my laptop in the bedroom, and try to maneuver her into position so that the webcam gets a shot of her back,” I said.

“High res cam?” she asked.

“Please, Michelle,” I said. “You know me and my computer equipment.”

She laughed. “Sorry. That was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Well, try to get a picture of the bruise.
Get her as close as you can, so it’s as detailed as possible.”

She fell silent again for a few heartbeats. When she did speak, I was more surprised than I let on. “And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you and I should go and pay this guy a visit.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Michelle. If we show up at the house together and start in on him in front of his family, it’ll just piss him off more. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to do anything that you’d have to make official?”

“Who said I’d go in an official capacity? And you’re right, if we humiliate him in front the wife and daughter, he’ll end up taking it out on them.”

“So what then?” I asked. I was unsure how I felt about her getting so deeply involved in this. Michelle and I are friends, and I still like her. Our being lovers just didn’t work out. But this whole “we” thing was making me uncomfortable.

“Give me a day to think about it,” Michelle said. “I’ll dig into this guy and see what I can turn up, like if he has a rap sheet. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what I find out. Give me any information you have about him.”

“Hang on.” I dug out the phone book and thumbed through the pages until I found him. “His name is Charles Davidson. The address in the phone book just says McConnell Road, no number.”

“Know how to get there?”

I gave her directions to where the house was located, then added, “His wife’s name is Colleen, the daughter is Sara, no “H.” That’s all I know.”

“That’s a start,” she said. “I’ll see what I can find out about him. I’ll call you tomorrow. And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“One way or another, we’ll stop this guy. You’re doing the right thing. For now at least, we’re going to do this without filing any kind of reports or getting Social Services involved. If it ends up that we have to go through the system, fine. But I’d rather avoid that. They’re not nearly as effective as they like to think they are.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” I said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“No problem, pretty lady,” she said. “Night.”

Pretty lady, I noted as I racked the phone. Great. I don’t need any terms of endearment. I don’t want to be obligated to Michelle for anything. Then I thought about that bruise on little Sara’s back.

Sometimes, the cost doesn’t matter. You just have to fix something, no matter what the price is. This needed to be fixed.

I turned off the light in the office and returned to the bedroom. Easing myself into bed, not wanting to awaken the girls, I found a place where I could lay in reasonable comfort. The two of them were sprawled out, taking up a good section of the bed. Thankfully, my bed is rather on the large side.

I awoke at one point to find myself with two little heat leeches curled up around me, one on either side. I was used to this from Janelle. She tends to cling when we sleep in the same bed, which is a fairly regular occurrence. It wasn’t until tonight that it had taken on a whole new level of meaning for me. Sara was also clinging to me, her head resting against one breast. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen her look truly at peace since I’d met her.

I drifted back to sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Passing Cloud

With an almost overpowering surge of lust, I started to lick my sister’s cunt.

I took my time.

I began with a long, slow lick along the length of her slit, from her clit to her anus. I inhaled deeply. It smelled and tasted just as I wanted and expected. I knew what a little girl’s pee and bum holes were like and I needed that sense of reality to reinforce in my mind what I was actually doing.

At least that’s what I think I was doing as I look back.

It was a kind of ‘relishing the moment’.

Making it REAL.

I loved the response I got. Kathy released a long sigh of satisfaction as my tongue slid over her skin, then she gasped as it wriggled between her lips and then, “Oh!” she cried in surprise as the tip tickled her clitoris.

I tried to copy what Maria had done to me. I opened my mouth wide and engulfed her entire vulva, sucking her fleshy mound while letting my tongue repeatedly flick her sensitised button.

It wasn’t long before she was moaning in earnest. I noticed the different responses depending on where and how I licked her: the intake of breath when I touched her clitoris, the exhalation and prolonged “oh… oh… oh…” as I caressed the sensitive membranes along the length of her slit and between her lips, the various oohs and aahs as I varied the pressure and speed and intensity of my caresses, the working of my tongue.

My focus shifted slightly. Although I was loving what I was doing, and was to an extent satisfying my own sexual desires, I found my mind becoming slightly detached. I wanted to acquire knowledge, expertise. I wanted to be as proficient as possible for Maria.

I started asking questions.

Raising my face from my sister’s eager vagina, I said, “Tell me how it feels. Tell me where you like it most. Tell me how you want it.”

Exhaling with an extended sigh, her voice trembling, Kathy answered, “Oooh, that’s nice, there,” as I flicked my tongue around her pee-hole. As I trailed it along her labia, dipping into her slit as I went, she whispered, “Mmm that’s lovely.” Then as I paused over her clitoris and took it first between my pursed lips, then started to tickle it with the tip of my tongue, she arched her back groaning, “There, just there, lick it… oooh… not so hard, not so hard… oooh…” I softened the pressure of my tongue. I was still licking quickly — tiny rapid movements, but I was barely making contact. It was the subtlest of touches that I could manage, but it seemed to be working.

Her back remained arched, her head flung back — still tantalisingly muffled by her nightdress — as her arms strained and twisted, her legs remained stretched wide and her breathing got faster and shallower. “Ah… ah… there. Yes, that’s it… that’s it… like that… don’t stop… p-please!”

I rejoiced in her orgasm.

I tried to hold her in position as she came. I kept licking and licking throughout, not wanting to stop. I tried to pin her arms so I could continue, but she was too strong, her convulsions too violent. I had a fleeting thought that next time I would like to tie her down so I could lick her for as long as I wanted. I didn’t realise it then, but that thought would recur and become relevant very soon.

For the moment, though, I had achieved what I had set out to do. I felt ready for Maria. I sat up with an intense feeling of satisfaction and achievement and watched my sister recover.

Kathy lay trembling on her back as she pulled her nightdress down and covered herself up. I felt a twinge of regret as I lost sight of her nakedness. I wanted to tell her — order her — not to cover herself. To let me keep looking at her. I wanted to stay in command. Again, I thought about tying her up. The idea thrilled me. But it would have to wait. Soon, I told myself. Maybe tomorrow night. I instinctively felt that these little erotic encounters with my sister were falling under my control. I would decide what we did, and where and how. It just seemed right to me. Time would tell.

She slowly regained her composure. The trembling subsided and she pulled the covers back up. She looked at me sheepishly. I thought she was going to say something, but she just kept looking at my face. She had a half-smile and she bit her bottom lip as she kept staring at me.

I put my hand on hers and, smiling gently, said, “Was it alright?”

Her smile widened as she nodded silently. She grasped my hand tightly with both of hers then suddenly pulled it under the covers and, widening her smile into a wicked grin, pushed it back between her legs. With both hands she pressed my eager fingers into her vulva. Between her lips. “Put your finger inside,” she urged me.

I was surprised but delighted, and more than willing to comply.

My middle finger easily slipped into her hot wetness as, relishing the feeling, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth in a silent gasp.

She gripped my wrist under the covers, holding my hand in place, so I couldn’t have withdrawn even if I had wanted to.

After a few moments she opened her eyes and, still holding my arm firmly, said, “God. That was great! Your tongue feels a lot different to your hand… your hand is nice as well, though…” and she fell back, squirming into her pillow as she released her grip and I began to move my finger around inside her.

It amused me to watch my sister slowly writhing as I fingered her. I watched the changing expressions on her face, listened to the range of sounds coming from her mouth. She was obviously loving it.

But I wanted to be in charge, and at the moment that wasn’t happening.

I abruptly pulled my finger out and withdrew my hand from under the covers.

“Don’t stop!” she pleaded. “Please?”

“I’ll do it again tomorrow,” I told her. I was surprised at how firm I sounded. “I’m tired now.”

She looked disappointed and pushed her bottom lip out in a display of sulky petulance.

Ignoring her, I bent over and put my mouth close to her ear. I whispered conspiratorially, “I was talking to Maria after,” I lied. Again. Twice in two days. It was becoming a habit. Lying to my sister for my own gratification. I felt a wicked little thrill inside. I was being bad. Naughty. I liked the feeling.

“She told me a secret.”

I paused.

I could hear the bedside clock ticking.

“What?” Kathy hissed. There was urgency in her voice. “What did she tell you?”

I paused again. Thinking.

“She told me she was playing with her cousin, and part of the game was to be tied up and tickled,” the lie continued. “She said it feels even better if you can’t move. She said her cousin did it to her when she was tied up and she couldn’t stop her, and it felt great.”

I stopped there, having planted the seed, and slid into my own bed. My mind was still working. Somehow, I had to broach this with Maria. I had to get to her first. Plots and plans were forming in my mind. I found myself enjoying the intrigue.

“I didn’t know she had a cousin,” muttered Kathy as I snuggled beneath the bedclothes. “She didn’t tell me.”

*****

The next day was a glorious, sunny day. It was already hot under a clear blue sky as I skipped to school. Kathy didn’t even try to keep up. She seemed a little sullen and preoccupied and content to make her own way while I went on ahead.

In class, I spent the morning in reverie, wondering how I could get alone with Maria. A number of different scenarios ran through my mind – none of which were completely satisfactory.

Then, suddenly it seemed, it was mid-day.

I ran from class to our usual meeting place. Maria and the others were just arriving. I skipped the last few yards as Maria’s face lit up at the sight of me.

“Here she is,” she acknowledged me with a beautiful smile, “my little girlfriend.”

She casually threw her arm around my shoulders and led me along a path into the school park area. The school had extensive grounds with large grassed areas for sports fields and a number of small wooded areas as well as ancillary buildings.

We were a little way ahead of the others as she called to them over her shoulder, “I’m taking Sis on a walk. We’ll see you back here later.”

My little heart was aflutter. The fates were smiling upon me. I was alone with my Maria.

She smiled down at me. “I thought it would be good if it was just us,” she said.

I was incapable of speech. I beamed back at her.

We passed a host of other girls in various groups, sitting or lying on the grass. They paid us no attention, wrapped up in their own little worlds, enjoying the sunshine.

We wandered into a small group of trees, into the shade.

As we moved out of sight behind the bole of a large oak, Maria pulled me to a halt. There was no-one around, although we could hear the distant chatter of the groups of girls on the grass, out in the open.

There was an urgency in Maria’s voice as she pinned me against the tree and hissed in my ear, “Do you want it? Do you want to do it now?”

She knew the answer even as I nodded my agreement. She instantly dropped to a crouch as her hands lifted my skirt.

“Hold it up,” she instructed, her voice trembling, “while I take these down.”

I did as I was told. I held my little skirt up and leaned back against the tree trunk. My heart was beating wildly. I was excited, breathless, but also nervous. I quickly looked left, then right, anxious that we might be seen, but the coast was clear. I could relax.

Maria wasted no time peeling my pants down my legs. She pulled them down to my ankles, then took them off and laid them on the grass.

I felt the soft breeze against my bare thighs. Then I felt Maria’s warm breath as she murmured, “I love your beautiful little cunt,” and her hot tongue slid between my thighs and instantly started worming its way into my eager slit.

I opened my legs for her and she moaned her appreciation.

“Mmmm… Sis… oooohh, yes…”

Again, it felt wonderful. She used her tongue relentlessly, seeking out my little clitoris and licking, licking it. Her fingers traced delicate patterns across my thighs, front and back. She squeezed my buttocks, tickled the crease between them, probed deeper until she found my anus and caressed me there.

The cumulative effect was to transport me rapidly into ecstasy — the thrill of being exposed like this, the love and adoration I felt for this girl, the incredible pleasure that was centred between my legs and spreading throughout my entire body. I pushed my hips out as my orgasm built, I felt her tongue probe deeper into my slit, I pushed my mound against her teeth. I wanted her to bite me, hurt me, do anything — everything.

It was wonderful, fantastic. I came shuddering and trembling to orgasm. I couldn’t help crying her name. Maria. I couldn’t help telling her I loved her. “Maria. I love you. I love you…”

She stood and held my face in her hands. I was crying, I don’t why other than my being almost overwhelmed with ecstasy, with joy, with needing… needing to express my love.

She kissed me — kissed my forehead, my lips, my cheeks. She kissed away my tears.

“What, Sis? What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

I looked up into her deep, brown, caring eyes. “I wanted to do it to you,” I sobbed “I wanted you to feel it.”

Her smile told me everything I needed to know. This time it was her looking around to see if anyone was nearby — but again, the coast was clear.

We hurriedly changed positions and while I put my pants back on, she pulled hers down, leaned against the tree and lifted her skirt. Spreading her legs she said, “There you are, Sis. Do what you want.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited.

I dropped to a crouch so my face was level with her pubis. I stared at her cunt. It seemed the most beautiful and arousing thing I could ever imagine.

I put my face closer. I loved that she had hair there. It made her seem so much more mature, so much more sensual. I moved closer. I wondered if she would smell or taste like my sister. I hoped she would be different. I wondered if she would smell of pee — or more. I’m sure I wanted her to, wanted her to be dirty, so that I could clean her with my mouth.

Then I felt her hand touch the back of my head, gently pushing my face, my mouth, towards her sex. I realised she wasn’t just being nice, she actually wanted this herself. She wanted me to do this to her. She wanted me. I felt elated, joyous, proud. I put out my tongue and gloried in the feel of her pubic hair on the tip. Then, almost fainting with happiness, I pushed it into her slit.

It was wonderful.

Then, as I licked and sucked her and swallowed her juices, she began to talk to me – her voice trembling with passion – and that aroused me even more.

“Kathy told me what you did last night.”

I paused momentarily, afraid of what she might say next.

“No. Don’t stop. It feels fantastic.”

I carried on licking her.

“She told me what you said about my cousin… oh, God that feels, feels so… ooh…. she told me… ooh… what you said… about being tied up… aaah… ”

I pushed my tongue into her as far as I could, enveloped her clitoris with my lips. I kissed and sucked it, wanting this to be glorious for her.

“Aah… aah… I want you to tie Kathy up… I didn’t say anything, didn’t tell her I don’t have a girl cousin… I… aah… aah… oh, Sis, do it to her, do it… oooh don’t, don’t stop… ”

Afterwards, when she had put her pants back on and we were strolling back to the others after she had composed herself, she said, “God, Sis. That was fantastic. You can do that whenever you want.” I grinned, glowing with pride. “And if you want, after tonight, when you’ve done Kathy, you can do the same to me.”

“What?” I honestly didn’t understand.

“Tie me up and do it… if you want to…”

Continue on to Chapter 6

By Muffi

What the hell was I going to do?

I had no choice in this. I had promised that I’d call Sara’s mother and ask if she could spend the night here with Janelle and I. I had also promised Janelle that even if Sara couldn’t come, she could still come and spend the night with me.

Rock and a hard place? You’d better believe it.

For the first time I could remember, I didn’t trust myself. That’s a scary feeling, particularly when you don’t trust yourself because of some newly realized feelings about a little girl who spends a great deal of time in your presence.

I couldn’t face this right now. I needed to call Sara’s mother, and then I needed to pick up either both of the girls, or Janelle. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t, break a promise to Janelle. I would have to put on a brave face, and prepare myself to spend the day and night with at least one, possibly two little girls. If I needed to suppress my feelings, I could do that. I’d face those feelings, try to sort them out and decipher just what the hell they meant tomorrow, when I was alone.

From their terrariums, Ellie and Nellie still seemed to be accusing me with their eyes.

When you can anthropomorphize two snakes to the point where you think they’re not only aware of your thoughts, but taking the time to make their own opinion of you known, you’re suffering from some major guilt.

Oh, yeah. Guilt. I was awash in guilt and shame over these newly discovered feelings.

I took a deep sip of my now cooling coffee, then went to my office. I looked up the Davidson’s phone number again, picked up the phone, and dialed. A gruff male voice answered.

“H’lo?”

“Hello,” I said, as pleasantly as I could. “Could I speak to Colleen, please?”

“Who the hell is this?” came the response.

Okay, then. Nice phone manners. I truly hoped that he wouldn’t piss me off. I wasn’t in the mood to be pissed off. Particularly by a male. Be nice, Meagan, I admonished myself.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I chirped. “My name is Meagan Bristol. My niece, Janelle, is a friend of Sara’s. Sara came to Janelle’s birthday party yesterday. I’m the one who brought Sara home. I just wanted to talk to Sara’s Mom for a…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” growled the voice, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “I don’t need yer life story, fer Chrissake. A name’ll do. What’d ya say it was?”

“Meagan Bristol,” I said, fighting to control my temper.

“Wait a minute,” he snapped. The phone thunked down on a table or a desk or something. Maybe the floor, for all I knew.

Well, fuck you very much, too, I thought. Asshole…

I heard him bellowing distantly. “Colleen!! Get in here! There’s some woman named Bristol, wants you on the phone.”

I grated my teeth for a moment, then tried to calm myself when I heard someone fumbling with the phone. Colleen Davidson’s timid voice came into my ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Colleen,” I said. “It’s Meagan Bristol, Janelle’s aunt. I’m sorry to call so early.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” she said. “I’ve been up for a while.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “The reason I’m calling is, on our way to bring Sara home yesterday, I kind of invited both girls to come to my house for a sleepover. Janelle would love it if Sara can come. They’d spend the afternoon and evening with me, we can have a girl’s pizza party, they’ll spend the night, and I can take them both to school tomorrow. Would that be okay? I know it’s kind of short notice, and I apologize. But Janelle would love it if Sara could come.”

“Uhmm… Well, I suppose that’s okay,” she said. “What time would you need her there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about getting her here. I’m picking Janelle up at about ten this morning, and we can head from there right out to your place and pick her up.”

“Oh, well, sure. That will be fine then.” She sounded relieved that I’d pick Sara up.

“Oh, thank you!” I said. “Janelle will be thrilled. She really likes Sara.” I did some quick mental calculations. “Let’s plan on Janelle and I being there to pick Sara up at about ten-thirty? Will that be okay?”

“That’s fine,” she said listlessly.

“Perfect!” I said. “Tell Sara to be sure to bring pajamas or a nightgown, and some clothes for school tomorrow. Her school books, too. We’ll be going straight from my house to school in the morning.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you, Colleen,” I said. “Janelle really does like Sara. I think they’re going to be good friends.”

“That would be nice,” she answered wistfully. “Sara doesn’t have too many friends. None, really.”

“Oh, yes she does,” I said. “She has at least one. Janelle.”

She almost laughed, I think. Then it was gone. “Okay, then,” she said. “Sara will be ready at about ten-thirty. We’ll watch for you.”

“That’s great,” I said. “I’ll see you in a little while. ‘Bye, now.”

“Goodbye,” she said.

I hung up, then dialed Kate’s house. Janelle answered. I heard her shouting as she picked up the phone. “It’s Aunt Meagan,” she shrieked out. “I got it!” Then back to me, voice as sweet as cherry coke, “Hi, Aunt Meagan.”

“Hiya, sweetie,” I said. “How’re you this morning?”

“I’m good!” she chirped.

“Well, then,” I said, “I just got off the phone with Sara’s mom, and as soon as I pick you up, we’re going to go and pick Sara up, too. After that, it’s Girl Power for the rest of the day, and a sleepover at my house tonight.”

“Awesome!! What time are you picking me up?”

“I’ll be there at about ten o’clock. Are you all packed already?”

“Yup! I have my pajamas and school clothes ready, and I have my schoolbooks, too. I have three backpacks of stuff!”

I rolled my eyes. Janelle may be mostly tomboy, but when it comes to packing for an outing, she’s all female. She packs enough to go on a one night sleepover to last most people a week. I laughed.

“Okay, then, Sweetie,” I said. “I’m going to get showered and dressed, and then I’ll be on my way. Let your mom and dad know, okay?”

“I will. See ya in a while, Aunt Meagan. ‘Bye!”

I was smiling when I hung up the phone. To my horror, I was also feeling aroused at knowing she’d be with me for the day, and overnight. Not all out horny, but definitely aroused.

“Fuck me,” I muttered.

Scratch that. The last thing I needed to be thinking about right now was being fucked. That just wouldn’t do at all.

I went into the living room, picked up my now ice cold coffee, and glanced at the two terrariums again.

“Stop looking at me like that, will you please?” I muttered to Ellie and Nellie. “I promise, I’ll be good.”

They looked as though they didn’t believe me. Smart snakes. I wasn’t sure if I believed me, either.

My shower was an exercise in futility. What? Oh, no, I got clean. But it was interesting, to say the least. And frightening. I didn’t want to masturbate. Well, okay, let me rephrase that. I was afraid to masturbate, because I didn’t want to know where my thoughts might go if I did. I got ready for my shower quickly, and decided that I’d avoid using my hands on myself. I have this wonderful natural loofah scrubber on a long wooden handle. It’s an absolute necessity for exfoliating. Anyway, I thought that if I used just the loofah, and didn’t use my hands anywhere on my body, I might make it out of the shower without masturbating.

Yeah, yeah. I know it was stupid, but I was grasping at straws. You’ve never grasped at straws before?

Anyway, I got into the shower with the best of intentions. I soaked down the loofah, squirted body wash over it, and began to scrub.

Once again, so much for good intentions.

If you’re a female, and you’ve never had the experience of using a loofah to masturbate in the shower, I’m here to give you my official endorsement. You have to be careful, because they can be kind of rough, but it’s worth the risk.

As soon as the damned thing scraped across my nipples, I knew I’d lost the battle. Okay, so it wasn’t really a battle, it was more of a small skirmish. No? All right then, I’d already raised the white flag before the enemy even came into sight.

I pulled the loofah away from my nipples, and scrubbed down my back, then my arms, then my belly, then my legs and my still rather nicely shaped butt. Unfortunately, I’m not the kind of person who can leave unwashed body parts. The loofah was going to have to go between my legs eventually.

Might as well get it over with, I thought.

I parted my legs, and brought the loofah down across my mons, intending to be quick about this. Yeah, right. The best laid plans, and all that.

I gasped as the rough loofah scraped over the sensitive skin of my pussy. God, that’s good! I thought. Yeppers, it sure was. Too good. That thing wasn’t going to leave my genitals until I’d come. I knew it. You know it. What can I say?

I tried. I mean, I really, really tried. I conjured up images of a past girlfriend whom I’d been particularly in lust with almost constantly. I created a fictional woman in my mind, complete with enormous breasts and a thick dark thatch of pubic hair. For some reason, I thought the breasts and the pubic hair seemed important today.

They may have been important, but they failed utterly. In the back of my mind, I heard Janelle’s voice. “I love you, Aunt Meagan…”

My labia parted as if they had a mind of their own. The loofah scraped over my clit, and I shuddered, moaning loudly. It wasn’t a wordless moan, either.

“Oh, Janelle, baby…”

I had to grab the handle of the shower door to stay on my feet as the orgasm hit. I shuddered hard, feeling a warm gush of fluid run down my legs from my pussy. I clamped my legs together, locking the loofah in place, rocking it slightly as I ground myself into it. A second wave hit me.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan. Do it, please… Do it for me, Aunt Meagan…”

As the waves subsided, I pulled the loofah from between my legs, panting heavily. Meagan Bristol, you are truly one sick, fucked up slut, I thought disgustedly.

Muttering to myself, calling myself some very choice names, I got out of the shower and dried off quickly. I moisturized, brushed out my hair, decided to forgo the makeup, and went to get dressed.

Let’s see. Jeans, or jeans? Uhm… jeans, I think. I pulled on a pair of panties, followed them up with some old and comfy jeans, and pulled a red tee-shirt over my head. I skipped the bra, since it was just me and the two kids today. My decision to go braless had nothing to do with the fact that Janelle would be able to see my nipples poking through the material of the shirt. Honest. It didn’t.

I shoved my feet into a pair of old sneakers, and I was pretty much ready to go. I looked at the clock. It was nine-thirty. I still had a few minutes before I had to leave. I did my daily shutdown and reboot of the computer, checked my email, and then went and filled my huge travel mug with coffee before grabbing the car keys.

As I passed through the living room, Ellie and Nellie were looking at me as if to say, We know what you did. And we know what you were thinking when you did it.

“Come on, you two,” I said. “Knock it off, please? I’m really trying here.”

The look on their faces seemed to call me a liar.

Let me explain something about snakes. They care very little for what’s going on around them, unless they feel threatened or hungry. If you have a snake that was raised in captivity, it’s accustomed to humans. If your snake thinks about you at all, it most likely considers you to be some sort of a strange tree or something. In other words, they really aren’t emotional creatures. They’re nothing like a cat or a dog in that sense.

Today, though, I was seriously considering writing a paper on the topic of the emotional response of snakes to twisted, sick individuals they come into contact with. Ellie and Nellie were still regarding me with looks of stark accusation.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” I said to them. “Janelle and Sara will be here for the rest of the day and overnight. You two can keep an eye on things, and make sure that I don’t get out of line. Deal?”

Don’t even think about it, they seemed to be saying. We’ve got our eyes on you.

Good. That was taken care of. The snakes would be guarding Janelle. I felt better.

Have I mentioned to you that I’m a strange person? No? Well, I am.

I locked up the house, backed the Chevy out of the garage, and headed to my sister’s house to pick up Janelle. Kate met me at the door, grinning.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” she said. “She’s hyperactive this morning.”

I hope I’m ready for it, too, I thought. I didn’t say it, though. I would have had to explain myself. I wasn’t ready for that.

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “I love having her over, you know that.”

“And she loves visiting you,” she replied.

Suddenly, Janelle came bouncing through the door, one backpack slung over her shoulder, lugging two more in her hands. She was wearing cut-off denim shorts that showed off almost all of her legs. I mean, these were short-shorts. Above it, she wore a little midriff pullover top that left her belly exposed. White sneakers and ankle socks completed the outfit.

God help me, I thought.

“Hi, Aunt Meagan!”

“Hi, Sweetie! You need some help with those?”

She grinned, nodding. I took one of the backpacks from her hands.

“Give me a kiss goodbye, Honey,” said Kate. Janelle turned her face up to her mother, who stooped to smack her on the lips. “I’ll pick you up at Aunt Meagan’s after work tomorrow, okay? You have fun. Oh! Did you close your bedroom door? I don’t want to have to see that creature.”

Kate shot me a look. I blinked my innocence.

Janelle rolled her eyes, grabbing my hand. “Yes, Mom, I closed my bedroom door,” she said sarcastically.

I smirked at Kate. She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Bye, Honey. See you tomorrow,” Kate called as Janelle dragged me my Chevy.

“Bye, Mom. Love you!”

“I love you too,” Kate yelled.

I opened the rear hatch so we could stow Janelle’s backpacks. She got into the front seat with me for the trip to Sara’s house. The whole way there, I was acutely aware of her slender little thighs on the seat next to mine.

Stop it, Meagan. Ellie and Nellie will kill you and eat you.

“I hope Sara likes pizza,” Janelle said.

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” I replied.

“Ellie and Nellie?”

I laughed, and Janelle gave me one of her signature smiles. I melted inside. It was going to be a very long day and night.

When we pulled into the Davidson’s driveway, the door opened, and little Sara stepped onto the porch with a backpack on her shoulders, carrying a rather oversized duffel bag. The duffel bag was bigger than her. My god, I thought, she’s as bad as Janelle! Her outfit was a close match for Janelle’s; tight, very short shorts, sneakers, and a tank top. I suddenly found myself looking at her a bit differently.

Jesus fucking-A Christ, Meagan! Knock it off!

Colleen Davidson was standing in the doorway, watching Sara head down the steps. I had a sudden thought, grabbed my purse, got out, and went up on the porch. “Hi, Colleen,” I said. “How are you?”

“Fine, thank you,” she said with a wan smile.

“I’m going to give you my address and phone number,” I said, “just in case something comes up and you need to get in touch, or if you just want to check on Sara.”

Colleen nodded listlessly. I wrote the information down on a slip of paper and handed it to her. Over her shoulder, I could see a man I assumed to be the Davidson patriarch sitting in a recliner in the living room, watching television. There was a half empty bottle of vodka on the table next to him, the cap off, a glass about a third full of clear liquid next to it. He was wearing old jeans and a greyish, badly stained wife-beater tee-shirt. The wife-beater seemed to fit his personality.

Geez! It wasn’t even quite ten-thirty in the morning yet, and he was already into the vodka. How attractive is that?

Janelle had gotten out and was helping Sara carry her things to the Chevy. They stuffed everything in the back with Janelle’s things, and then climbed into the back seat. I saw them buckling their seatbelts. I turned back to Colleen. “Well, then,” I said, “I’ll drop Sara off at school with Janelle in the morning. And don’t worry, she’s in safe hands for the night.” I sincerely hoped that was a truthful statement.

Colleen gave me that ghost of a smile again, and nodded. “That’s fine, then,” she said. “Could you try to make sure she remembers to bring everything with her when she leaves? Sometimes she forgets things.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything is packed back up before they leave in the morning.”

“Thank you again,” she said. “It’s nice to see Sara finally making friends with someone.”

“I’m just the go-between,” I said. “Janelle is the one making friends with her.”

She smiled back, a genuine smile this time, I think. “Sara really likes her, too,” she said.

“Good! Let’s hope they become the best of friends.”

“Have fun with them,” she said. “Tell Sara her father will be here when she gets home from school tomorrow.”

“I will,” I said. “Bye, now.”

“Goodbye.” She moved back a step, and the door closed slowly.

There was no way I was going to remind Sara that her asshole dad was going to be waiting for her. I was certain that she was already more than aware of that fact.

I got into the Chevy and started the engine. The two girls were chattering away in the backseat. Sara was very animated today. But then, Janelle has that effect. You can’t help but be excited when she’s around.

I glanced in the rear view. “Okay, sistahs!” I exclaimed. “What’s the plan for today?”

The two heads came together for a moment, then I heard a loud cry, in unison. “PIZZA!”

I snorted. “That’s it? Pizza? That’s your grand plan for the day?”

Janelle shrugged. “Oh… we’ll figure it out, Aunt Meagan. Do you think it would be okay if Sara can hold Ellie and Nellie for a minute?”

“If she wants to, sure. They haven’t been fed recently, so they’ll be fine with being held.”

Snakes don’t appreciate being handled when they’ve recently been fed. It takes them a while to digest their food, and being held is uncomfortable for them when they’ve just had a snack.

Sara’s mouth formed a little O shape. “You really mean it?” she piped. “You’d let me hold them?”

“Of course, as long as you’re careful. Janelle handles them a lot.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, cool!”

“Wait’ll you see ’em, Sara,” said Janelle. “They’re way bigger than my snake is. Aunt Meagan’s had ’em for a long time, and they’re pretty big. They’re so pretty, too.”

Sara giggled. “My Mom would faint if she ever saw me holdin’ a snake.”

“Sweetie, a lot of people feel that way. Janelle’s Mom is having a hard time with her snake being in the house right now, too.”

“Why are people so scared of them?” she asked.

I looked in the rear view again. “Janelle, you want to explain that to Sara?”

Janelle nodded. “People are scared of ’em cause they don’t understand ’em. Most snakes aren’t poison, but lots of people think they all are. ‘An snakes that you get as pets were never wild snakes, they were born to be pets. If people would just give ’em a chance, they wouldn’t be such scaredy-cats.”

I was smiling in the front seat as I listened to Janelle’s explanation. Pretty well reasoned, especially for a nine-year-old.

“I used to be scared to death of ’em,” she continued. “But Aunt Meagan taught me stuff, and now I really love her two snakes, and mine, too!”

Sara was listening in rapt attention as the “expert” expounded further. “Wild snakes are good to have around, too, ‘cos they eat mice and rats and bugs and stuff. Pet snakes don’t do that, at least not if ya keep ’em in a terrarium. I guess if ya let ’em free in your house they would. But I don’t think my mom would like that very much.”

By now we were pulling into my driveway. I drove into the garage, and the girls flew out of the Chevy, dashed around to the back and began digging out their belongings. I unlocked the door, and we all stomped into my kitchen. Four backpacks and an oversized duffel bag wound up in the middle of the floor. Janelle was dragging Sara through the room by one hand.

“C’mon, Sara, you gotta see Ellie and Nellie!”

I shook my head, smiling, and followed them to the living room.

Ellie and Nellie stared at me. Have you been behaving yourself, Meagan? they seemed to be asking.

Bite me, I thought.

We don’t bite, you know that. But we could choke the life out of you.

Guilt-ridden? Me? Please…

Sara was cooing softly as she took in my two snakes. I’ve had Ellie for almost twelve years, Nellie for about ten. They’re both fully mature snakes, which means that their growth has slowed significantly. They’re both about seven feet long, and weigh about sixty pounds. When Janelle handles them, she’s always sitting on the floor. They’re too heavy for her to pick them up and carry around.

Sara looked up at me as I entered the room. “They’re huge!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, they’re fully grown,” I said. “Do you like them?”

She nodded vigorously. “They’re awesome!”

“Later on, I’ll take them out and you can handle them,” I said. “If you want to, that is.”

“Oh, yeah!” Sara replied. “That’d be cool!”

“Okay, you two. What are we doing tonight?” I asked. “I mean, Janelle, what do you want to do for sleeping arrangements? Do you and Sara want the guest room? Or do you want to camp out on the floor in here tonight?”

“Aren’t you gonna sleep with us, Aunt Meagan?” she asked. “It’s a sleep-over party, ya know. We should all sleep together.”

I was afraid of that. Damage control? Yeah, right. Good luck.

“Okay,” I said, “then where do you want us to sleep? On the floor in the living room, or where?”

“Can’t we all just sleep in your bed?” She turned to Sara. “She has the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life!”

Great. So much for damage control.

I could feel Ellie and Nellie’s gaze, burning into my back. We’re watching you…

I forced a smile. “Okay then, my room it is Let’s get your things upstairs, and then we can figure out what we’re doing for the rest of the day.”

Continue on to Chapter 4

By Passing Cloud

I stared at Maria’s lovely face as she played with me. I was gently swaying to this sensual rhythm, floating in pleasure, loving her more and more with each caress, when she leaned forward and whispered the question, “Have you ever been tongued?”

Her meaning didn’t register at first. I was in a half-dream state with the edge of ecstasy creeping towards me.

As her words sank in, a picture formed in my mind. It was a picture that thrilled but horrified me. Did my lovely Maria actually want to lick me… there? My childish awareness of bodily functions and sexuality hadn’t yet made any sort of erotic link. Surely it was ‘dirty’? All this flashed through my immature mind and I, discomfited, shook my head silently.

Smiling, and still gently rubbing, Maria whispered, “Well, we’d better try it then…”

She motioned to the others to come and help her and then, together, they lifted me bodily off the low table, carried me over to a chest of drawers and sat me atop it. I was totally passive and compliant in their hands. It just seemed so natural for me at that moment.

They carefully pushed me backwards so that I was lying down, then, guided by Maria, they lifted my legs high and wide and held me, gently but firmly, in place. Kathy had one leg, Nancy the other. Jude, crouching, stretched my little lips apart. It hurt a little. Maria dragged her chair over and sat facing me. Her head was level with my sex.

Lying on my back, held in position, I stared vacantly upwards. I can’t remember what I looked at. My mind was turned inwards. My awareness was all about what I was feeling. I felt helpless; I felt vulnerable, I felt that I was giving of myself — a kind of loving generosity to my darling Maria, and then to her acolytes. I felt strangely humbled by the attention. I felt Maria’s breath between my legs as she spoke.

“That’s right, Jude. Hold her open.”

I felt the others shift their position as they bent to look at me, exposed like that.

Kathy spoke. Gleefully she said, “I can see everything you’ve got, Sis. Everything!”

Somehow that simple statement really aroused me. I began to feel wanton — insofar as I interpreted the feeling. I tried to expose myself even more. I pushed my legs further apart so Nancy and my sister had to adjust their positions. I lifted my hips, tried to push my cunt out. I wanted to be touched, felt, penetrated, violated, anything! Suddenly trembling with urgency, I hissed, “Do it then. Do it!”

I heard Maria softly sigh, then felt her breath getting warmer and warmer, and then, as she whispered “Ohh… lovely,” I felt her lips brush against my clitoris.

I gasped. I groaned. I felt a sense of shock, of surprise. That briefest of touches: so soft, so gentle, so, so wonderful.

And then, and then — my God.

She started to lick me.

Her hot, wet tongue slipped into my slit and caressed those sensitive membranes with concentrated, deliberate purpose.

It felt utterly, utterly incredible.

Within seconds, it seems, I began to cry out, to moan.

“Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!” On and on.

I remember hearing myself, but I could do nothing about it.

Maria herself moaned and murmured as she did me.

With each long, slow, lascivious lick she whispered her pleasure. “Mmmm… beautiful… ooooh… gorgeous… mmmm…”

I floated away to where everything was pleasure, was ecstasy.

I felt her breath, her lips, and her tongue — especially her tongue. Licking me, probing me, penetrating me.

So dirty, so filthy in my mind. So, so sexy.

Her lips pursed around my clitoris, the tip of her tongue now tickling that desperate little point with tiny rapid movements.

Fast she licked it, then faster and faster.

I felt it coming. That feeling. Like before, it rushed upon me and swept me away. Stronger than the first.

I screamed. I cried out loud. I cried. I screamed her name. I screamed that I loved her. I screamed that I loved it! That feeling.

That strange, powerful, wonderful feeling.

My body arched strongly. I thrashed, I struggled, I writhed desperately as I came. The orgasm surged through me. Somehow the others held me in place. At one point I opened my eyes, wildly staring. I saw Nancy staring back at me. She was flushed, panting, she was gripping my leg. Stretching me wide.

And she was smiling.

I had to close my eyes again as another surge of orgasmic ecstasy shuddered through me, then another and another.

Maria was still licking me. She kept on doing it, but more gently… then gentler still.

Then Jude released her grip on my stretched labia and Maria instantly enveloped them — enveloped my whole vulva with her lips. She tenderly sucked it into her mouth. I heard her sucking and swallowing my juices, mingled with her saliva. She moaned again. “Mmmm.”

She moaned, I moaned.

Slowly the feelings subsided into that beautiful warm glow and Maria (I believe) reluctantly withdrew. The others helped me up and off the chest. They helped me dress. We didn’t say a word until we were about to leave the building.

Maria put her arm around my shoulders. She stroked my hair. I looked up at her. As she smiled down at me, I felt complete adoration. I felt so warm and so grateful, I knew that I would do anything for her. Anything she told me. I wanted her to take me. Make me hers. Make me her pet. Do anything she liked to me. I gazed at her beautiful face with love and longing.

All she said was, “How was it?”

It was enough. I had recovered enough composure to reply, smiling.

“Fantastic. It was fantastic.”

Then, as the others slipped out through the door into the sunlight, and Maria and I paused on the threshold, she leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially into my ear, her lips brushing my hair, “Good. We’ll do it more then. A lot more if you want. And you can do it to me, too.”

*****

As I stepped, blinking, into the bright light of the day I felt joyous.

I skipped to my lessons but didn’t learn a thing. I skipped home but didn’t speak to my sister. My mind was very much elsewhere — in a constant flight of fancy as I dreamed and dreamed of Maria. Fantasies overwhelmed me. I pictured a never-ending variety of scenes, vignettes where Maria and I indulged our desires.

I imagined that she loved me, adored me as much as I adored her. She held me in her arms and kissed me on the mouth, kissed me passionately like an actress on television being kissed by the hero. I pictured her whispering loving words in my ear as she undressed me, and then I would display myself to her — naked, exposed, supplicant in every way. “Maria, Maria, I’m yours. Do what you want to me.”

This prolonged sexual reverie had distracted me for hours, and now I lay awake in my bed idly stroking myself, my tiny fingers tracing delicately along the line of my labia. My sister was in the neighbouring bathroom. I was listening intently to her, counting through the stages of her toilet. Waiting eagerly for her to come into the room. To get into bed.

I heard Kathy on the toilet, heard the trickle of her urine and tried to visualise it. I imagined my face very close to her vagina — as if I was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, watching her pee. Just inches away.

The thought aroused me. I thought of what Maria had done to me. I imagined doing the same thing to my elder sister. I suddenly realised that I wanted to do that. That I wanted to get my big sister naked, stripped bare. Then get her to open her legs so I could lick her. I wondered if Kathy would smell, even taste of pee. I wanted to find out.

I heard the toilet flush. A few seconds later, the door opened and Kathy came into the room. I watched her close the door and tiptoe across to her bed. In the half-light I saw she was wearing a nightdress. The same one as last night. I hoped that, like last night, that same nightdress would soon be up around her neck with her naked body laid out for my pleasure.

I waited silently as she got into bed. I saw as she lifted the covers then raised and swivelled her legs into place that she wasn’t wearing anything under her nightdress. My heart began to race in anticipation.

“Are you awake, Sis?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

A long pause. “You know today… with Maria…?”

“Yes…?” my heart was pounding now, my hand furtively feeling.

“Did it… did it feel — you know?”

This time I paused. I thought for a few moments about how to express how I felt. How I felt about Maria. But that wasn’t what I wanted from my sister. I loved Maria. I had a different love for Kathy, and just now I wasn’t interested in that kind of love. Just now, I wanted to be dirty. I wanted to smell my sister’s pee. I wanted to touch her where it was ‘naughty’. I wanted to find out how to do it properly with my tongue. I wanted to use my sister. I wanted to be in control.

So I didn’t reply. Instead, I pulled back the covers and padded across to Kathy’s bed and sat. I looked down at her. She was lying passively on her back, the covers were pulled up to her neck, her hands resting on the outside.

We didn’t speak for a moment, then Kathy reached across and started fiddling with the button on my pyjama trousers. “Why don’t you take these off and get in here with me?” she whispered. I could see her grinning in the faint light.

For a moment, I was unsure what to do. It would have been fun to strip off and get in with her. I would have enjoyed letting her have her way with me, but that wasn’t my plan. I had to take the risk. So I good-humouredly slapped her hand away, saying, “No. Don’t do that. I might take them off for you after. But first I want to do this!”

I abruptly pulled the bedclothes down to the bottom of the bed, revealing her fully to my inspection. Her nightdress was rumpled high above her knees, nearly at her groin, her legs slightly parted. To my delight, she didn’t move. She seemed happy to take the passive role. Like last night, I hoped.

She made as if to speak, but I quickly pressed my finger to my pursed lips and bent over so our faces were nearly touching. “Sssssh,” I insisted. “Don’t say anything.”

Then I reached down and started to pull her nightdress up. Obligingly, Kathy raised her hips.

I pulled it right up to her neck and made a point of reaching underneath, to make sure it was all the way up all the way around.

I told her to raise her arms above her head so I could pull the nightdress higher — part way along her arms.

Without a murmur she let me do it and, in so doing, I completely covered her face at the same time.

I sat back to take a long look at her. Seeing her lying there so compliantly thrilled me. Her body, faceless and completely naked, no longer seemed to be that of my sister. It seemed as if this lovely lithe, smooth young body spread before me was there purely for my indulgence. I was really, really aroused.

I placed my hands on the inside of her thighs and, with just the slightest pressure, she spread her legs wide for me.

I looked her up and down and tried to take in all the details. Her slim hips, her ribs, her belly button, her small pink nipples, her mound, her slit…

I leaned across her and switched on the side light so I could see better. The light cast a golden glow across Kathy’s body, leaving her covered face in shadow. Suddenly she appeared so much more anonymous to me… so much more exciting and enticing.

I put my hands on the inside of her thighs again, higher this time, nearly touching her vaginal lips. I spread her legs even wider and bent over that flat belly so I could see her sex clearly. “Lift a bit,” I instructed, and she duly obliged, lifting her little buttocks off the bed, bringing her cunt closer to my face. I bent closer, then closer still until my lips were touching her belly just above her pubic mound. She flinched at the contact; murmured, “Oh,” but didn’t move. I knew she would be able to feel my breath against her skin. I hoped she was as aroused as I was. I hoped she wanted the same thing as me.

I moved my hands to her buttocks and spread them apart so I could look at her anus. I was entranced again by that tight little hole. I moved my hand so I could touch it – lightly – with my fingertip.

Again she murmured, “Oh,” with an intake of breath.

I put my face even closer. Sniffed her. I wanted her to smell of pee. Of the toilet. I wanted this to be dirty, rude, forbidden.

There was just the slightest scent of urine, but it was enough. It strangely satisfied my need and somehow justified my wanton lewdness. It is difficult to explain, but I felt somehow vindicated in my desires – that what I did now would be the right thing to do.

I bent my head even lower and extended my tongue. With an almost overpowering surge of lust, I started to lick my sister’s cunt.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Muffi

I woke the next morning feeling deliciously lethargic and lazy. I knew that I had to motivate myself to get moving and go help with Janelle’s party, but I stayed under the warm covers for as long as I could. I wondered vaguely why my purple vibrator was lying next to me on the bed, and then remembered that I had drifted off to sleep quickly the night before, following an almost unbelievably intense orgasm. I hadn’t had the energy to even put the toy away.

For the record, before I got myself out of bed, I did take a little time to make an attempt at repeating the pleasure of the night before. I won’t bother to describe it, I’m sure you aren’t interested in a repeat of that so soon on the heels of my last description. I will only say that while it was quite pleasurable, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the previous night.

Oh, well. As the Rolling Stones said, you can’t always get what you want. I was still feeling something of the afterglow from last night, anyway, so I wasn’t even close to being disappointed. I mean, there really is no such thing as a bad orgasm, right?

Smiling and humming quietly to myself, I padded into the bathroom for a quick shower, brushed my hair and teeth quickly, threw on a hint of makeup, and then went back to my bedroom to get dressed.

I’d decided on a casual look for the day. I knew that most of the little girls who would be showing up would be wearing pretty dresses, but I also knew about playing in the sprinkler. One way or another, the party would end with everyone dressed casually. Besides, I figured that with something like fifteen prepubescent girls in one large gathering, pandemonium reigns supreme — so jeans would be the safest choice.

I pulled on a sheer burgundy thong. Well, you never know. I could meet a bored mom who was looking for a stroll on the wild side, couldn’t I? Okay, admittedly, the possibility was rather remote. The bra that made up the other half of the set was also sheer. It did nothing to hide my prominent nipples, but at least I was sort of following the rules of modesty. It was a bra, right? A barely there bra, true; but a bra nonetheless.

I pulled a thin tank top over my head, black, with rather narrow shoulder straps and a low, scoop cut neckline that was trimmed in black lace. It displayed my cleavage rather nicely, I thought. Finally, I sat on the bed and pulled on my favorite, worn out but immensely comfortable black boots with thick clunky heels. I stood up and surveyed the result in my mirrored walls, satisfied that I looked not only comfy and casual, but marginally respectable as well.

That’s me: Your friendly, admittedly nymphomaniacal, neighborhood lesbian. The epitome of respectable small town womanhood. Yeah, right…

Lock up your womenfolk, fellas. Meagan is flying solo, and her horniness knows no bounds!

Yes, I do think about sex almost constantly. So shoot me.

Janelle’s birthday cake was on a very large wooden cutting board, sitting on my kitchen table. After I had started my coffee brewing, I eyed the dimensions of the cake, then went into the garage to dig out a couple of cardboard boxes. After some skilled surgical work that involved a box cutter and some duct tape, I had an open box that was large enough to place the cake in. It had no top, but I could cover it with aluminum foil. I drive a mid-sized Chevy crossover, so I had plenty of room in the back to set the cake down for the ride.

By the time I had opened the rear hatch of the Chevy, lugged the cake out there and loaded it up, my coffee was ready. I poured a huge mug and snapped the lid on. My travel “mug” holds just over a half pot of coffee. Caffeine addict? Me?

I took a quick sip of rich, hot black coffee, set the mug down, and went to the hall closet to dig out the birthday presents I’d bought for Janelle. I grinned. My sister was going to have a hissy fit. Oh, well. This was about Janelle, not about her mother. Truthfully, I was going to enjoy Kate’s reaction every bit as much as I would Janelle’s.

The largest of the two brightly wrapped packages had to go in back with the cake. That actually worked. I wedged it between the front seats and the edge of the cake box, which help to steady the cake in place. The smaller package went on the front passenger seat. There was a third package, as well, but I needed to wait to load that until I was just ready to leave. It would go in the front seat as well.

I went back inside, picked up my coffee, and went into my office to check my email. My graphics work is almost exclusively computer generated, created for various web applications. I do some work for print media also, but the majority of my work is for cyberspace. Email is my main form of communication with clients and prospective clients. I check it faithfully several times every day.

Nothing pressing. That was a good thing; I wouldn’t spend the day with half of my mind trying to solve any work related issues. I turned off the computer monitor, leaving the machine running. I almost never shut down my computer for any length of time. Just a daily, five minute shutdown to clear the RAM and cache space.

I grabbed my denim jacket and pulled it on, made sure everything was turned off except the computer, checked the doors to be sure they were locked, and grabbed Janelle’s third present. I went into the garage, set the package on the front passenger seat, and started up the vehicle. I punched the garage door opener, and when it was fully raised, I backed out into the driveway. I hit the button to close the garage back up, and headed off to my sister’s house, about a mile and a half away. I turned on the CD player and sang along with Sarah McLachlan, only slightly off key.

It was still several hours until the party. I pulled into Kate and Michael’s driveway just a few minutes before ten o’clock. It was a beautiful, early autumn day, bright and sunny, with the promise of warm temperatures by noon. I parked the Chevy in full sunlight, got out and opened the rear hatch, and unloaded the cake. It was heavy enough that I had to use both hands, so I’d have to come back to close the hatch.

I used my elbow to ring the doorbell, because I couldn’t open the door. My hands were full of birthday cake. My brother-in-law opened the door, grinning at me.

“Hey, Meagan,” he said, “come on in. You need some help with that?”

“Just with the door, thanks,” I replied.

“You got here just in time,” he said, laughing. “Janelle is about to go into meltdown. Kate’s been pretending that she forgot to bake the cake, and telling Janelle not to worry, she’ll get to it soon.”

I shook my head, unable to hide my smile. “My sister, the eternal bitch,” I said.

“You said that, not me,” he grinned.

“I can say it,” I said conspiratorially. “You, she’d probably murder for that.”

“She would indeed,” Michael said. “Slowly, and very painfully.”

His face as he spoke gave lie to his words. Michael loves my sister with everything he’s got. The only other person he loves even near as much as Kate is Janelle.

“You can think it, Michael. I won’t tell, I promise.”

He laughed, showing gleaming white teeth. “Come on,” he said. “That thing must be getting heavy.”

As we walked into the kitchen, Janelle was wailing at her mother. “Mom, come on! You hafta get my cake made!”

“Look who’s here, guys,” said Michael loudly.

Kate and Janelle turned as one and saw me. When Janelle saw the box in my hands, she spun back to her mother, glaring at her with an accusing look. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She just glared, and that look said it all. Then she spun back to me, all smiles again. “You made my cake, Aunt Meagan? Is it chocolate? Can I see it, please, please, please, please, please?” The words spilled out in a rush.

“Yes, I made your cake, Sweetie. Of course it’s chocolate; do you think I’d make any other kind for you? And no, you may not see it. It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait until the party.”

Janelle gave me a mock pout that lasted all of about two seconds. Then she was all smiles and giggles again. “Wait’ll you see the outfit Mom got for me to wear today, Aunt Meagan. It’s so awesome!”

“We’re waiting until about noon to put it on her,” said Kate. “We want to minimize the amount of time that she’ll have to get it dirty.”

Janelle blushed. She has a tendency to get dirty pretty quickly sometimes, and she knows it.

“I can’t wait to see it, Sweetie. I’ll be here all day. There’s no rush.”

“You wanna see it now? I can show it to you.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I want to wait to see it when you’re in it. It won’t be half as pretty on a hanger as it will when you’re wearing it.”

She blushed prettily again. I was struck by her innocent beauty. My sister and her hubby make awfully pretty kids, I thought.

The rest of the morning was spent bustling around the house and the deck, decorating and preparing everything for the arrival of a pack of half-wild girl children. There would be a few of the Moms there, as well, which would provide Kate, Michael and myself with some much needed technical support. We were going need all the help we could get.

At about noon, we figured that we were about as ready as we were ever going to be. There were balloons floating in the air everywhere; Michael had rented a tank of helium and bought balloons of every shape, size and color. They bounced lazily against the ceiling inside the house, and they were attached by strings from railings, table legs, anything that you could tie a string to. My major contribution to the party had been a huge banner that I’d designed and had made. It was suspended from the eaves of the house above the deck, a bright pink banner with white lettering, each letter outlined in a different primary color.

HAPPY NINTH BIRTHDAY, JANELLE!!

Janelle had gone upstairs to change into her new outfit. The three of us were standing in the kitchen, taking a break and trying to psyche ourselves up for the impending chaos. Actually, I really was looking forward to this. It was going to be fun.

I turned at the sounds of clunky footsteps coming down the hallway towards the kitchen. Janelle pranced proudly into the kitchen, her eyes locked to mine, grinning from ear to ear. I looked at her, then I glanced at her mother, who was also grinning at me. She was dressed up, alright, but not in what could remotely be thought of as a frilly little girl outfit.

She was wearing an almost perfect duplicate of an outfit that I favor, and that Janelle had more than once labeled as “awesome.” I gulped. She looked adorable! Around her neck was a black velvet choker, with a silver heart suspended from the front. She wore a white, long-sleeved blouse that was heavily ruffled down the front and at the cuffs. Over the blouse, she wore an open, black leather vest with silver buttons. Her pants were also black leather, with an exposed button-fly, again with silver buttons. On her feet, she wore a pair of boots that were identical to the ones I had on, only smaller.

She stood in front of me grinning for a moment, then slowly spun in a circle. When she was facing me again, she looked up at me, still grinning. “Wha’d’ya think?” she asked.

“I think,” I replied, “That except for the fact that you’re much prettier than I am, you look like a miniature Aunt Meagan!”

Janelle beamed at me, then rushed forward and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I returned the hug, happily.

Kate was still grinning. “She’s been after me for months to let her get an outfit that matches yours,” she said. “She finally wore me down.”

“She’s good at that,” Michael added.

It was a pretty expensive outfit to get for a little girl who would most likely outgrow it within a year. But then, we all tend to indulge Janelle. Kate can’t have any more kids; she’d had to have a hysterectomy following Janelle’s birth. They’d discovered two malignant tumors. She was their only child, and all the more precious to them because there would be no others.

Indulging Janelle never seemed to spoil her, though. She didn’t develop that attitude of just expecting to get whatever she wants. She was truly appreciative of anything that she was given.

When she stepped back away from me, her mother noticed that Janelle had forgotten to brush her hair. It was tousled wildly. “Janelle! Are you going to greet people with your hair looking like that?”

Janelle reached one hand up to her head to touch her hair. Her mouth formed a surprised “O” shape, and she spun around and ran back upstairs to take care of it.

“She really adores you, you know,” said Kate quietly. “Everything is, ‘Aunt Meagan this, Aunt Meagan that.’ She wanted that outfit so badly, so she could look like you.”

It was my turn to blush. “Yeah, well, don’t tell her, but the feeling is mutual. I love her like she’s my own.”

Michael grinned. “No one has to tell her. She knows she has you wrapped around her little finger.”

I glared at him. “You should talk,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, ducking his head with a sheepish grin. “She’s pretty special, isn’t she?”

“That she is, dear brother-in-law,” I replied. “That she is. You should be proud of her.”

“Trust me,” he said quietly. “I am.”

“Okay, you guys,” said Kate. “This concludes our regular meeting of the Janelle McCarthy Fan Club. We need to focus. It’s going to get insane around here very soon.”

That statement was followed immediately by a hesitant knock at the front door. I glanced at Kate, then headed down the hall to answer the knock. I heard Michael mutter behind me. “Let the games begin.”

I opened the door to find a rather plain, mousy, tired looking woman who was probably in the neighborhood of thirty years old, but looked much older than that. Next to her was a slender little girl with coal black, shoulder length hair and very pale white skin. I smiled at both of them brightly.

“Uhm, is this the right place? For the birthday party, I mean?” the woman asked.

“You got it,” I said, grinning. I looked down at the little girl again. “You must be Sara.” The little girl nodded shyly and smiled.

I looked back at her mother. The woman looked defeated. By what, I couldn’t tell, but there was defeat painted all over her face, and in her posture. I wondered vaguely what had happened to make her this way. “I’m Colleen Davidson,” she said quietly. Her eyes shot to the floor, then back to my face. “Are you Janelle’s aunt?”

“Meagan Bristol,” I said, nodding. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” I extended my hand, and the woman took it, shaking hands with me rather listlessly.

“Sara, Janelle is upstairs fixing her hair,” I said. “You can go on up if you want to.”

Sara was holding a large white envelope, and a rather worn out looking backpack. She looked at her Mom, then smiled shyly again, and walked past me and up the stairs to find Janelle.

I looked back at Colleen Davidson. She met my eyes steadily, but with a wariness that I didn’t quite understand. “Would you like to come in and meet Janelle’s parents?” I asked her.

“Oh, no, thank you,” she said. “I have to get going and get ready for work. Maybe another time.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get Janelle a gift.”

I waved a hand at her. “Stop, please,” I said. “Janelle is thrilled that Sara’s here. I saw the card. She’ll be perfectly happy with that.”

The woman nodded and smiled briefly. At that moment I heard a Janelle give a happy shriek from upstairs, followed by shy laughter that must have been Sara. “I think Sara found Janelle,” I said.

“You’ll take Sara home after the party?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. “Just give me the address.”

“We’re off of McConnell Road,” she said. “It’s the third right after you turn off Route 5. About two miles. You can’t miss it. Sara will get you there.”

“I know the area,” I said, nodding. “I’ll run her home as soon as everything dies down.” I smiled at her again.

Colleen nodded at me. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She hesitated for a moment. “For everything.”

I wonder what that means, I thought. “Thank you,” I replied, “for letting Sara come. Janelle really wanted her to be here.”

“I need to be going,” she said. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I’ll make sure to tell Sara to call you as soon as she gets home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said quietly. “My husband will be there.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied. Must be a one vehicle family, I thought.

The woman turned and started to her car. “Goodbye,” I said. “Try to have a good day at work!” No response.

What an odd woman, I thought.

Over the next hour or so, more and more kids showed up. Some came with gifts, some with just cards, all of them were chattering and laughing in that way that’s peculiar to little girls. Before too long, it was utter pandemonium, with sixteen, count ’em, sixteen hyperactive eight and nine year-old-girls shrieking, laughing, giggling and running madly through the house and around the back yard.

Make that fifteen. I noticed that little Sara hung back from the rest of the kids, looking a little shy, and very lost. I wasn’t the only one who noticed, either.

It didn’t take long for Janelle to notice that Sara hadn’t been included in the chaos. Then the count dropped to fourteen hyperactive little girls, and two quiet little girls sitting at the picnic table on the deck.

I shook my head slowly. You continue to amaze me, Janelle, I thought.

I watched as Janelle stood up, taking Sara’s hand and leading her out onto the lawn to join the other kids. Though she still looked shy, little Sara was at least taking part now, joining the other girls. Then I noticed Sarah-with-an”H” off to one side, whispering to a couple of other girls, pointing in Sara and Janelle’s direction. Uh-oh, I thought.

Sarah-with-an-H is one of those picture-perfect, Barbie doll looking kids who always looks as though she absolutely knows that she’s better than everyone around her. Since she had inherited her looks from her mother, I can only assume that the attitude comes from the same source. But while genetics and environment might explain the kid, they aren’t an excuse for her behavior. I don’t know the little girl well enough to actually dislike her, but I trust my sister’s opinion. She already looked like a supreme little bitch.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being a bitch from time to time. I embrace my own inner bitch quite regularly. It’s a girl thing. Get over it. I stop short of outright cruelty, though. I had heard enough about Sarah-with-an-H to realize that she probably enjoyed being cruel.

I heard Sarah-with-an-H call Janelle’s name, then saw her motioning to Janelle to come over. Janelle walked over to the small group of girls, and Sarah-with-an-H leaned close and whispered something in Janelle’s ear. Janelle froze for a moment, then stepped back, a look of rage — not anger, but true rage — slowly spreading over her features.

Here we go, I thought. It’s show time.

Janelle must have been speaking very softly, because I could see her lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a word. I stood up and started towards the group of girls. Then I heard one word come from Janelle, loud and very strong. “Now!”

Janelle had raised her arm and was pointing towards the house. I moved towards the girls, seeing surprise, then confusion, then anger on the face of Sarah-with-an-“H.” She masked it quickly, fixing a smug, haughty little smirk in place.

I was close enough to hear what Janelle was saying now. I was thankful that she’d had the sense to keep her voice low.

“You’re not welcome here anymore, Sarah. I want you to leave. Now.”

Sarah-with-an-H wasn’t going to be discreet, though.

I’d come into their field of vision now, and Sarah-with-an-H shifted her gaze towards me for a moment, then flicked back to Janelle.

“Fine,” she said, loudly enough to make sure that everyone heard her. “You think I want to stay here anyway, with your dyke girlfriend and your queer old dyke aunt hanging around?”

With a hateful look in Sara’s direction, then another in mine, Sarah-with-an-H stalked off towards the deck, calling for her mother. Her two sidekicks followed in her wake. Moe, Larry and Curly, I thought.

I sighed. Some things never change.

Janelle was on the verge of angry tears, but she held them back. She looked up at me.

“You okay, Sweetie?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Yup. I’ll tell you later what she said.”

Janelle glanced in Sara’s direction. I followed her gaze, and saw the little girl standing by herself again, looking distressed and ready to cry. She probably thought this scene was her fault.

Without another word, Janelle went back to Sara, whispering in her ear. I don’t know what she said, but it worked, because I saw a huge grin spread across Sara’s face. In under a minute, the remaining kids were beginning to return to their normal activities.

I headed back to the house, and went into the kitchen. I was in time to see the three little girls heading down the hallway towards the front door, three gift wrapped packages in their hands. There was an ice-queen-resembling woman standing in the kitchen with Kate, her face a mask of anger. The mother.

She was almost screaming at Kate. “You let her be around these children? What’s wrong with you?”

I knew what that meant. I smiled to myself. Time for me to embrace my inner bitch. Beware of flying venom, please.

I saw Kate open her mouth to speak. I raised my hand quickly to stop her. Her mouth closed slowly. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.

“Excuse me,” I said, as coldly as I could. “Is there something you’d like to say to me, uhm… Miranda? It is Miranda, right?”

The woman spun to look at me. A look of haughty distaste spread across her perfect features as she looked me over from head to toe and back again.

“Is this true?” she asked me. You’re a… a… ” Her voice faltered.

“A lesbian?” I finished for her. “Am I a lesbian, Miranda? Is that what you want to know?” She stared at me with loathing in her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me, Miranda? Do I look like a lesbian?”

I raised my hand to my mouth and ran a finger over my teeth. “Hmm… No fangs. No claws that I can see on my hands. No slobber running down my chin looking at all these pretty little girls. I don’t know, Miranda. Tell me, am I a lesbian?”

That icy stare continued to try burning holes through my skull.

“You don’t get out much, do you, Miranda? This is a pretty small town, and except for college, I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t exactly try to hide the fact that I sleep with women. Ask anyone in town about Meagan Bristol, and they’ll tell you that I’m queer. Funny thing, though. Most people don’t seem to have the same problem with it that you do. I wonder why that is?”

The stare grew hateful. I was glad that there were no kids in the kitchen at that moment. “You’re an abomination!” She spat the words at me.

I smiled warmly. Okay, okay, not so warmly. But I did smile.

“Ah, now I understand,” I said. “I offend your Christian sensibilities, is that it? Well, Miranda, perhaps it will comfort you to know that when I’m making passionate love to another woman, I regularly call out to God, to Jesus Christ, and to all of the saints in heaven. Sex can do that for you. You should try it sometime.”

I looked her slowly up and down one time, then leered at her. “You’re not too bad looking,” I said. “If your husband can’t do it for you, I’d be willing to give it a try.”

She gasped, a look of horror crossing her face. I heard a choked snort come from Kate.

“If I see you near my daughter again, I’ll have you arrested,” she spat at me.

“I’ll do you one better, Miranda,” I said. “If I ever see that evil little bitch you call your daughter harassing my niece again, I’ll hunt you down and kick your proper little ass. I won’t bother with the police.”

Miranda’s mouth opened and closed several times, like a goldfish out of water. A look of fear flicked through her eyes, but it was masked in an instant. She spun around and stalked out of the house. We heard a car start, and speed off down the street.

The next thing I heard was Michael, laughing quietly. I turned to look at him. He was grinning at me.

“What?” I said.

He stared at me for a moment longer. “And you call Kate a bitch,” he murmured.

Kate sputtered and started laughing loudly. Too loudly for my taste. I couldn’t help it, though. I started laughing with them.

The three of us headed back out to the deck. The other moms came over to make sure everything was okay; the general consensus seemed to be that everyone was well rid of the Ice Queen and her little clone, as well as the two snotty friends. Kate quickly repeated what had happened, in a hurried, hushed whisper so the kids wouldn’t overhear. Peals of delighted laughter rang out as the women got the gist of what had gone down.

One woman, someone I didn’t recognize, broke away and came towards me, smiling brightly. “It’s Meagan, right?” I nodded. “Listen, if you decide you’re going to go beat that bitch’s ass, I want in on it,” she said.

Damn! I thought. I grinned at her. “Hopefully it won’t be necessary,” I replied. “But if it is, you’ll be the first to know.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

I saw Michael smirking at me as the woman returned to the small knot of motherhood gazing out at the children on the lawn. “What?” I said.

“Nothing. Just watching the show.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. See how mature I am? He just laughed, the prick.

Janelle came trotting up onto the deck, telling her mother that she had to “pee really, really bad!” I decided I wanted to take a moment to talk to her, make sure she was okay, and perhaps find out what Sarah-with-an-H had said that set her off. I gave Michael a quick whisper telling him that I wanted to talk to Janelle for a minute; he nodded.

I followed Janelle down the hall to the small half-bath on the first floor. She heard me behind her and turned, her face lighting up in a dazzling smile when she saw who was following.

I went into the half-bath with her, and closed the door behind us. Janelle was squirming in that peculiar way that we females do when we really have to go. She gave me a questioning look as she quickly started unbuttoning her leather pants.

“I just wanted to check with you, Sweetie,” I said, “and make sure you’re okay after that little spat outside.”

Janelle’s face darkened for a moment. “Yeah, I’m okay, Aunt Meagan,” she said. “That stupid Sarah can go hang out with her other stupid friends for all I care. I don’t wanna talk to her anymore. And I sure don’t wanna be friends with her anymore, either.”

Her hips shimmied back and forth as she shucked her pants and undies down below her knees and sat on the toilet.

“What did she say that upset you so much, Sweetie?” I asked.

I heard a sigh, accompanied by the splashing of urine into the toilet bowl. Janelle looked up at me with a scowl on her face. “She just said some nasty stuff about Sara, and then about you.”

“You can tell me, Sweetie,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it all before, anyway.”

“She said that Sara is a queer little dyke, and if I hang out with her, then I must be a dyke, too. Then she said I prob’ly am a dyke, cause you are, and everybody knows that dykes always try to turn little girls into dykes, too.”

It’s a good thing that little witch had left. An even better thing that her mother had gone with her.

“Sweetie,” I said, “I’m so sorry you had to put up with something like that. I wish there was something I could say that would make it better.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “Why? I mean, I know you’re gay, an’ sometimes you call yourself queer or a dyke. But it doesn’t sound mean or dirty like it does when Sarah says it. I know she’s just stupid. Besides…” Janelle had peeled of a length off toilet paper and was wiping herself now, with a complete lack of self-consciousness.

“I know you an’ I’ve met some of your girlfriends. There’s nothing wrong with you. Even if I do turn out to be a lesbian, I don’t care. I’m still me, too.”

Nine years old, I thought. Nine years old, with the wisdom of a forty-year-old. My eyes burned for a moment, hearing those words from this lovely little girl.

Janelle stood up and flushed the toilet, then got her pants back into place. I got myself composed while she did.

I looked at her standing there. For a moment, I flashed on my thoughts of her last night, after I’d masturbated. That made me uneasy for some reason, so I pushed the thought aside.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. “Have I told you yet how absolutely “hawt” you look in that outfit?”

She blushed deeply, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I put my arms around her and hugged her back.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan,” she said softly.

“I know you do, Sweetie. I love you, too.”

When we got back to the deck, Janelle rushed out to the lawn to rejoin her friends. Michael looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“She’s fine,” I said. “That’s one very remarkable little girl you have there.”

He gave me a smile. “You and Kate are the two main women in her life,” he said. “How could she be anything but remarkable?”

Sometimes my brother-in-law says the sweetest things.

“Stop it,” I said, “or I’ll tell Kate you’re hitting on me.”

He grimaced. “Fine. I won’t try to compliment you again.”

I grinned at him. He stuck his tongue out at me. The maturity in this family is absolutely boundless.

Kate started clapping her hands together loudly, calling all of the girls back up to the deck. It was time for the main event. The crowd was down to thirteen now, which really wasn’t much of an improvement. Well, okay, it was an improvement. Without Sarah-with-an-H and her two snotty little friends, it was a far more pleasant pack of rather noisy little girls.

Janelle, with little Sara by her side, sat down at the large picnic table. She seemed to have decided that she was going to adopt the new Sara, and I have to say, I approved of the idea. Though painfully shy and self-conscious, she seemed to be a very sweet little girl.

Kate nodded to me. That was my cue. I went into the house and began peeling back the foil from the box that held the cake. Michael was there with me, his job was to bring the ice cream. When he saw the cake, he burst into laughter.

“I did it for Kate as much as for Janelle,” I said, smirking.

“I’m sure she’ll just love it,” he said, still snickering. “Janelle, I mean.”

“She’d better. It took me hours to make.”

I got the cake out of the box by simply tearing the duct taped contraption apart. I stuck nine birthday candles in the main part of the cake, walked to the back door, and waited for Michael to light the candles for me. When we were ready, he opened the door for me, and I walked out to the deck, singing “Happy Birthday” as loudly as I could, and completely off key.

Yeah, I know. I said I don’t sing in front of an audience. Birthday parties consisting of a pack of half-wild little girls don’t count.

Everyone joined in singing with me, and I placed the cake in front of Janelle. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, then she giggled delightedly, beaming up at me. I followed her eyes as they glanced up at her mother, who stood beside her with a shocked, open-mouth look of disbelief on her face.

There were gasps, and lots of high-pitched little voices saying things like, “Coool,” “That’s so awesome,” “Ooh, sweeeet!”

The main part of the cake was a huge tree. It was a full three feet from the base of the trunk to the top of the leaves. At the top, the “foliage” spread widely out, about a foot or more to either side. Suspended from the branches, one on either side, were two beautiful snakes, hanging by their tails. Their bodies hung down, then curled back up towards the branches, where their heads faced out, smiling broadly with Cheshire cat grins.

When I say it took hours to make, I wasn’t lying. The whole cake itself was chocolate, Janelle’s favorite. The trunk of the tree was frosted with dark chocolate icing. The branches of the tree, and the two snakes, were done in white chocolate frosting that I’d tinted with food coloring. The leaves were bright green. The two snakes were colored to resemble Ellie and Nellie.

My snakes are rather rare strains of boa constrictors. Ellie is known as a Sharp Strain Albino boa. Her skin is an almost pure white base color, with very pale yellow markings. Nellie is a Salmon boa. Her skin is a light tan base color with darker tan to salmon pink markings. They’re both very beautiful snakes. I was quite proud of how accurately I’d depicted them on the cake.

“Snakes?” Kate gasped. “You made a birthday cake with snakes?”

“They’re boas, Kate,” I said, grinning. “They won’t bite. Though I have to admit, they are showing a lot of teeth, aren’t they? And they aren’t just any snakes, Kate. It’s Ellie and Nellie, which you’d know if you ever got close enough to look at them.”

Kate gave a long, hard shudder. “I hate snakes,” she said, “You know that.”

I grinned at her. “I do, yeah.”

My sister glared at me for a moment, but even she couldn’t pretend to be angry for long, not when Janelle was so obviously delighted. “Okay,” she said, “you win. Someone get some pictures of this monstrosity before it gets destroyed.”

Michael snapped a few pictures of the cake, Janelle blew out the candles, everyone clapped, and then one of the other moms helped her to start cutting it up and serving it. It was something of a hit — to eat, I mean. Nothing like a good, straight from scratch chocolate cake buried under mounds of ice cream.

I was going to have to be a good girl, and spend some extra time working out this week. No way I was passing up a plateful of my own creation.

When no one could eat any more cake and ice cream, it was time for Janelle to open her presents. I wanted to save mine for last. I went in to help Kate gather the gifts up and bring them out to the deck.

As we gathered everything together, Kate gave me her “special look.” “Thanks, sis. You did a wonderful job on that cake, even if you did have to be a bitch and bring snakes into my house.”

“Don’t call me a bitch… not just yet, anyhow!” I retorted. “You haven’t even seen the presents I have for her!”

She peered at me suspiciously. I blinked innocently. I can look innocent if I try. Really, I can.

Kate wasn’t buying it. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “Janelle’s going to love it, which means you’ll love it because she’ll be so happy.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

I shrugged, innocently again. “I have no idea,” I said, giving my beloved sister a mock-hurt look.

The problem with trying to look innocent — at least when you’re me — is that people know you only too well. They’ve learned that I’m seldom innocent.

We brought Janelle’s gifts out to her on the deck. Mine stayed in the house, waiting until the end. There was the usual array of toys, books, clothing, little girl’s purses and makeup kits, etc. Most everyone who knows Janelle is aware that she’s not the type to play with dolls much, though she does have a few. One mom had even given her a student chemistry set. I couldn’t help but be amused as I pictured Kate trying to deal with miniature explosions and foul odors coming from Janelle’s bedroom.

Finally, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, ready to face the music, even though I knew that this was going to make Janelle’s day.

I decided to bring her gifts to her one at a time. I excused myself, went through the house and out to my Chevy to retrieve two small packages from the front seat, then a large one from the cargo area. I headed back in, put two of the packages on the kitchen table, and brought the first one out to her.

Kate watched me suspiciously as I handed the gift to Janelle. Michael stood on the sidelines, ready to run interference for me, I hoped.

Janelle unwrapped the small present. It consisted of two books. One was a very thick, very comprehensive volume titled simply, “Herpetology.” Herpetology, for those of you not familiar with the term, is the study of reptiles and amphibians. Including, of course, snakes. It was probably a little over her head, but eventually, I hoped that it would come in handy for her. I’d also given her a smaller, much simpler book called, “The Complete Book of Snakes.”

I’d written a short inscription in each, congratulating her on her ninth birthday and on her increasing love of snakes, wishing her much enjoyment as she read and learned more about them.

She looked up, smiling. “Thank you, Aunt Meagan,” she said.

I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not finished yet, Sweetie.”

Kate had a dawning look of horror on her face. Uh-huh, baby sister. I went there.

I brought out the largest gift next. It was huge, but not all that heavy, really. Janelle had to stand to tear the wrapping paper from it. It was a fifty gallon glass terrarium kit, complete with everything that would be needed to keep a snake comfortable and healthy.

She beamed at me. “Oh, sweet!” she exclaimed. She shot her mother a look. “Maybe someday, I can even have a snake to put in it!”

I glanced at Kate. She was still looking horrified, but also a little ill now. She got it. Janelle still didn’t. “There’s one more gift to go, Sweetie,” I said quietly.

I came out of the kitchen with the other small package. Kate glared at me, shook her head, then a look of defeated resignation fell over her face.

“Be careful, Sweetie,” I said, placing the package in front of her. “This one is a little fragile.”

Carefully, Janelle started to tear off the wrapping paper. She didn’t notice that there were small holes punctured in the paper around the sides. The paper came off to reveal a white cardboard box with small air holes around the sides. Gingerly, she opened the top of the box, and I heard her suck in a sharp breath, then coo quietly.

“Oh, Aunt Meagan, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

Inside the box, coiled tightly in one corner, was a small, immature boa constrictor. I’d searched for several months to find this snake. She was about eight months old, still very young. Janelle was right. She was beautiful.

“She’s very young, Sweetie,” I said. “You’ll have to take extra special care of her. And listen, I want you to know something. If it’s really too hard for your Mom to handle having her in the house, you can keep her at my house, okay? You’re there almost every day, anyway, so you’d be able to take care of her and see to keeping her healthy.”

I glanced at Kate. I wanted her to know that the gift really was about making Janelle happy, and not about trying to irk my sister. She didn’t look very happy, but she forced a smile.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “This is something that Janelle really wants. I can learn to deal with it. But, I refuse to go in that room with the snake in it. I really don’t have to clean in there much anyway, but you’re going to have to vacuum that room every week. If you can promise me that you’ll keep your room clean, the way I ask you to, then you can keep it here.”

She looked at Michael, who had a look of shock on his face. “I can’t believe I just said that,” she muttered.

Every adult present burst into laughter at that.

I turned back to Janelle. “She’s called a Sunglow boa, Sweetie,” I said. “She’s very rare. She’s also one of the most beautiful boas I think I’ve ever seen.”

That was the truth. The snake was a very pale orange-white base color, with bright orange markings that were the color of the outside of a Creamsicle. Her eyes were the same color as her orange markings. She was a gorgeous specimen. I was lucky to have found her for sale.

“Can I pick her up?” Janelle asked me.

I nodded. “Very carefully, though,” I said. “She hasn’t eaten since I got her, but she’s still very young and delicate.”

Gently, Janelle reached into the box and lifted the young snake out. The rest of the little girls all “Ooo’ed” and “Ahhh’ed,” though they didn’t come too close, either.

Correction. Sara stepped closer. “She’s so pretty!” she exclaimed.

Janelle beamed at her. “You can pet her if you want to,” she said.

Very carefully, Sara reached out and gently stroked the top of the snake’s head. The slender forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, scenting on the little girl’s hand. Sara cooed delightedly. “She’s not slimy at all!”

“Nope,” said Janelle. “Snakes aren’t slimy. They’re dry and smooth, really.”

She gently draped the young snake around her neck, cupping her hand beneath the neck the way that I’d taught her. I saw Kate shudder out of the corner of my eye.

Okay, so at least part of me was having a blast at my sister’s discomfort. Yes, I’m a bitch. Trust me, she’d think of a way to get back at me. She always does.

Keeping an eye on the pack of girls who were admiring the snake, I went to my sister. “Listen,” I said, “she really can keep her at my house if you want. I don’t think she’ll have a major problem with that. It will still be her snake.”

Kate scowled at me, then sighed heavily. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’ll learn to live with it. But you’d better watch your back.”

I looked at her innocently. “Why?” I asked.

“Because, you are so going to pay for this.”

“Now, now, little sister,” I teased. “Mind your manners!”

She glared again. “It’s not my manners that you need to worry about,” she said.

I laughed, patted her back and returned to the pack of girls.

“Janelle,” I said, “I think maybe we should take her up to your room and set up her terrarium, okay? She’s still a baby, and she’s had enough excitement for one day.”

Janelle nodded. I picked up the terrarium and headed into the house, Janelle on my heels, the other girls following behind to watch.

For the time being, we’d have to put the terrarium on the floor. I’d talk to Michael about building a stand for it. I set it down, and set everything up. Little Sara ran to the bathroom with the water dish, and returned with it filled almost to the top. I had her put it in the terrarium, back in one corner. Janelle stepped forward. I gasped quietly.

Suddenly, I found Janelle to be exotically beautiful. A slender, strawberry blonde little girl with enormous dark blue eyes, dressed in black leather, with a beautiful boa constrictor draped around her neck. She was only nine, and incredibly sexy.

I felt a familiar pang in my belly, then a flush of guilt. What the fuck? I thought, incredulously. I shook the feeling away. If you ignore something, it will go away, right?

Nope. Not on this plane of existence.

Gently, Janelle removed the snake from her neck and placed it in the terrarium. I showed her how to fasten the top so that the snake couldn’t escape, and gave her directions on using the light and heat lamp mounted in the top. She listened carefully, nodding.

When I stood, Janelle wrapped her arms around my waist in a tight hug, and I automatically returned it. “Thank you, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered. “You’re the best!”

“Nope. You are,” I said.

I rounded up the pack of girls and shooed them out of the room. The poor snake needed some peace and quiet. Me, I needed some time to think.

The party was finally winding down. The kids never did get around to playing in the sprinkler. One by one, the girls and mothers were leaving. Eventually, it was down to me, Michael, Kate, Janelle and Sara. Sara had come out of her shell a little bit, especially now that it was just her and Janelle left. She bustled around with Janelle, both girls helping the adults with the cleaning up.

She really is a sweet kid, I thought.

It came time, though, when I needed to take Sara home. I asked Janelle if she’d like to ride with us. She shot her mother a questioning look, and grinned when Kate nodded to her. I gathered up my purse, and told the girls to head out to the Chevy.

Sara went to Kate and Michael, smiling, but looking down at the floor shyly. “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy. I had fun today.”

Kate smiled. “You’re welcome, Sara,” she said. “And you’re more than welcome to come and visit any time you’d like.”

Sara smiled again and nodded. “Thank you,” she said, simply.

The two girls tumbled down the hall and out the front door. I heard the doors slamming on my Chevy.

“Bye, you guys,” I said. “It was a blast!”

Kate was still glaring at me. Michael looked like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

“See you, Meagan,” he said. “Drive carefully.”

“Always,” I said. “I’ll drop Janelle off on my way home from Sara’s.”

They were walking me to the door. I got into my Chevy and started the engine, telling the girls to make sure their seat belts were buckled. I waved at Kate and Michael, then Janelle waved, and then Sara joined in. We headed off.

“So what are you gonna name your snake?” I heard Sara ask.

Janelle was quiet for a moment, as though she was thinking about this. I glanced in the rearview and met her eyes, looking at me thoughtfully.

“If it’s okay with Aunt Meagan,” she said, “I think I’m gonna name her after her.”

Pleased, I smiled in the mirror.

“Is that okay Aunt Meagan? Do you mind if I name her after you?”

“She’s your snake, Sweetie,” I said. “You get to name her anything you want to name her.”

“You’re sure she’s a girl snake, right?”

I nodded. Janelle knows that determining the gender of a snake can be tricky if you don’t know what you’re doing. “Yup, she’s a girl,” I said. “She saw the vet yesterday morning for a checkup, and I had him make sure. He also said that she’s in very good health.”

Janelle grinned hugely. “Cool! Then her name is Meagan!”

I felt that familiar little stabbing sensation in my lower belly again, this time accompanied by a little “skip-thump” of my heart. I was beginning to feel a little confused.

Okay, a lot confused. Not to mention guilty. I was still doing passably well with the denial thing, but I knew exactly what that stabbing sensation in my belly meant.

The only thing about denial is that you know you’re lying to yourself, even while you do it. I wasn’t at all comfortable with this reaction to my niece.

My nine-year-old niece, I reminded myself firmly.

I noticed that the closer we got to Sara’s home, the quieter she got. That also made me a little uneasy, but for a completely different reason. When a kid is that apprehensive about going home, there’s usually a reason for it.

At least it gave me something to focus on other than my own feelings. I needed that.

I kept a surreptitious eye on Sara as we got closer and closer to her home. She seemed to pull in on herself, almost physically. Her face started to take on that same look of defeat that I’d seen on her mother’s face earlier in the day. Something wasn’t right.

I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Sara, do you think your parents would let you have a sleepover with Janelle tomorrow night? The two of you could stay with me for the night, and I can bring you both to school on Monday morning.”

Sara looked at me in the mirror, a look of stunned surprise on her wan little face.

“Oh, that would be awesome!” piped up Janelle. “You think they would, Sara? We could have a blast at Aunt Meagan’s house. She’s got two snakes!”

“I can ask my Mom,” she said, a shy smile on her face again.

“Why don’t we just ask your Dad when we get to your house?” I asked.

The smile vanished. “Uhm, no, it’s better if I ask my Mom,” she said quietly.

Yup, I thought. Definitely something not right here.

“Would you like me to call her at work and ask her?” I said.

“No, you can’t call her at work or she’ll get in trouble,” said Sara. “But you could call her at home tomorrow, if you want to.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” I said. “Is it okay to call early?”

Sara nodded. “Mom’s always up early,” she said quietly.

We were turning into Sara’s driveway now, a long, winding unpaved strip of dirt that led to a rundown old farmhouse set back from the road. It wasn’t a bad looking place, but it could use a little TLC.

I pulled up in front of the house and parked the Chevy. Janelle and Sara got out of the rear seat. Janelle was murmuring to Sara, but I couldn’t hear her. I got out and joined them just as Sara was turning away to walk up the porch steps.

“Bye, Sara! Thanks for coming to my party!” Janelle said.

“I’ll call your Mom in the morning, Sara. Thanks for coming!” I said.

Sara lifted one hand in a wave, without turning around. Her head hung down now, her shoulders were hunched forward. That one word kept knocking around in my mind. Defeat. The little girl walked like she was completely defeated.

Janelle sat in front with me on the return trip. I gave it a couple of minutes before I started to question her.

“Sweetie, do you know anything about Sara?” I asked.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you know anything about what it’s like for her at home? Does she have brothers or sisters? Do you know where she lived before she came here?”

“I don’t think she has any brothers or sisters,” said Janelle. “If she does they’re not in school yet. And I only started talking to her yesterday, so I don’t know anything about home or where she’s from. And she doesn’t really talk to anybody at school, so I don’t know. Why?”

“Just curious,” I said. “I know she’s not from around here, or I’d know her parents.”

Janelle was silent for a few minutes. “She always seems so sad, Aunt Meagan,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “I kind of thought that, too.”

We were quiet the rest of the way home. When we got to my sister’s, Janelle unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. Before she got out, she stopped for a moment.

“Thanks again for my boa, Aunt Meagan,” she said, smiling. “She’s just too awesome for words.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetie. I know you’ll take good care of her; that’s the main reason I went ahead and got her for you.”

She nodded soberly. “I will, I promise.”

“Fill your Mom in about the sleepover idea, okay? And ask her to call me a little later on.”

“‘Kay, I will,” she said. “That would be so cool if Sara can come.”

“Well, why don’t you plan to stay over either way. Hopefully Sara will be able to come, but if not, you and I can still have a sleepover.”

She grinned happily. “‘Kay. Bye, Aunt Meagan. Thanks again!”

Maybe Sara won’t be able to come, I mused. I immediately slammed a lid on that thought.

Janelle jumped out of the Chevy, slammed the door, and ran to the house. I waited until she went in the door, then pulled out and headed for home.

I deliberately and very forcefully kept my thoughts occupied with things other than Janelle when I got home. I was beginning to be very afraid of what I was feeling.

When the phone rang, I jumped. I’d been involved with some tricky vector graphics on the computer, and it startled me. I checked the caller ID. It was Kate.

“Hey, little sister,” I said, by way of greeting.

“Hi, Meagan. What’s up? Janelle said you wanted me to call?”

“Yeah. Did she tell you about the sleepover idea?”

Kate snorted. “What do you think?” she said. “She’s upstairs packing some things now.”

I laughed. “Okay, great.” I said. “That’s not the main reason I wanted to talk to you, though.”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I don’t really know,” I said. “Did you happen to notice anything odd about little Sara today? Sara with no “H” I mean.”

“Only that she seems to be really quiet and shy. Why?”

I described how Sara had changed as we got closer to her home, and the way she had looked as she was going into the house. I also made mention of her quick refusal to have me ask her father about a sleepover.

Kate was silent for a minute. “That does sound kind of odd,” she said quietly. “What are you thinking?”

“That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking. But if her mother lets her come over here to spend the night tomorrow, I’m going to see what I can find out. Something just isn’t right there.”

“Okay, well, don’t go jumping to any conclusions too fast,” she said. “She might just be really shy. But keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “You want me to pick Janelle up tomorrow, or do you want to bring her over?”

“Uhm… if you’re offering to come and get her, I won’t refuse.”

“You got it,” I said. “Tell her I’ll be there at about ten o’clock.”

“Okay,” she replied. “And Meagan, thank you. I don’t really like the idea of that thing being in my house, but you made Janelle very happy today. She’s thrilled to death with that hideous creature.”

“Hey! She’s not hideous! She’s beautiful.” I paused, then, “Did she tell you what she named her?”

I heard a deep sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I know. She named it after Super Aunt.”

“Her, Kate. She’s a her, not an it.”

“No, it is a snake. There’s nothing female about it.”

This was fun. I do love to get under Kate’s skin. “Fine. You go right ahead and refer to my namesake as an it.” I was trying to feign hurt feelings.

Kate wasn’t buying it. She snorted again. “You’re the only person I know who would be flattered at the thought of someone naming a snake after you.”

“A beautiful snake,” I said, “Who was given a beautiful name, in honor of Janelle’s beautiful aunt.”

“Whatever.”

I snickered. “Bye, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will if that creature doesn’t kill me in my sleep,” she said.

“Bye, Kate.”

“Night, Meagan.”

I hung up the phone. Now, though, Janelle was at the front of my thoughts. Damn it!

I sighed heavily. I did not want to examine these feelings that I was only now becoming aware of. Feelings about Janelle. Frankly, they scared the crap out of me.

I took my evening shower, brushed my teeth, and got ready to relax for a while. Maybe a good movie will take my mind off things, I thought. Something I’ve seen a thousand times, one that I adore.

I decided to watch Casablanca, and just be a vegetable.

The tactic worked, at least for the length of the film. While I watched it, I indulged myself and had three glasses of a very nice Merlot. By the time the movie ended, I had nice little glowy feeling; I turned off the television, put my wineglass in the sink, and headed up to bed.

So much for good intentions.

I’ll spare you most of the gory details. I’m sure that you really aren’t interested in a play-by-play of my nightly autoerotic activities. I will tell you why I found myself tossing and turning for the rest of the night, even after another mind-numbing orgasm, followed by a second smaller, but no less satisfying second one.

Physically satisfying, at any rate. They left my thoughts in a state of utter turmoil.

I had reached the point where I was clawing hungrily towards that first orgasm, the purple vibrator buried deep within the hot, wet depths of my pussy. My left hand was doing double duty, fingers working the vibrator in and out of my clutching, spasming sex, the heel of one hand pressing down on my clit, sending repeated shocks through my body. My right hand had slipped beneath my ass, also doing double duty. It was helping to support my weight as I held my hips high off the bed; the index finger was probing and teasing at my rosebud. As it slid finally through the dark anal ring, I moaned, and felt the orgasm begin to pour through me.

That’s when it happened. Yup, you guessed it.

In my mind, I had a picture of Janelle sitting “Indian-style,” stark naked, on the bed between my widespread legs. She was watching avidly as my hands feverishly worked at my pussy and ass. As I began to moan my way into orgasm, she looked up at me, a beautiful smile on her face.

I heard her little voice in my mind, breathy and full of wonder. “Are you coming, Aunt Meagan? Is this what happens when you come?”

Even with the shock that slammed into me at such a mental image, the orgasm tore its way into my soul.

I’m not normally a screamer; I’ll moan and groan endlessly, but it takes a lot to make me literally scream. This was one of those rare occasions.

Thank the Goddess that I don’t live in an apartment. The neighbors would have thought I was being murdered.

It lasted for what seemed an eternity. Through the bright, exploding little pinpoints of silver light that peppered the backs of my eyelids floated that mental image of Janelle, naked, sitting between my obscenely splayed legs. I saw a look of sheer delight on her face as she chattered away at me in my mind.

“You’re doing it, Aunt Meagan! You’re coming! Oh my God, Aunt Meagan, it’s so awesome! I wanna do it, too, Aunt Meagan, I wanna come, too! Can I come, too, please?”

Finally, blessedly, she fell silent. Her image remained, though, smiling fondly at me as I slid down the back side of my orgasm, my body twitching and shuddering, then finally collapsing to the mattress.

I was afraid to open my eyes, fearing that I might find her sitting there between my knees. Please don’t be there, Janelle, I thought desperately.

I let my eyes open slowly, heaving an enormous sigh of relief when I found myself alone. It was the first time, I think, that I’ve ever actually been grateful for being alone in my bed.

Sighing again, I slid the purple vibrator from my pussy. Automatically, it came to my mouth, where I cleaned all traces of my wetness from it. I put it to the side, and my hand drifted back to my mons. Without any conscious thought on my part, my hands continued to explore and caress, my body slowly coming down from the orgasm.

I couldn’t get the image of Janelle out of my mind. Not remembered images, but the fantasy image that my perverted, twisted mind had conjured up. The image of my nine-year-old niece, sitting naked between my legs, smiling as she excitedly urged me on into my orgasm, begging me to let her experience her own.

What the hell is wrong with you, Meagan?

Even as the question snarled through my mind, though, that image of Janelle stayed in place. Without any warning, I was suddenly on the verge of another orgasm. Not as intense this time, but an orgasm nonetheless.

As I plunged three fingers into my slick pussy, I heard myself babbling and moaning. Not just thinking the words this time, but actually speaking them.

“Oh God, Janelle, sweetie… I want to come for you, baby… come with me, sweet girl… come with Aunt Meagan, baby…”

The words kept coming as the climax rolled and twisted on an unstoppable course through my body and my mind. I was at once more aroused and yet more dismayed and angry with myself than I can ever remember being in my life. But I couldn’t stop it.

Finally, the orgasm burned itself out. I snatched my hands from between my legs and rolled myself into the covers on my bed, grinding my face down into the pillow. I was sobbing, gut-wrenching gulps of air. There were tears soaking into my pillow.

Eventually, the sobbing subsided. The tears did not. I fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning, waking frequently throughout the night. My dreams consisted of half-remembered news reports concerning child molesters, pedophiles, child pornographers.

I woke in the morning, exhausted and cranky. I got out of bed, pulled on my robe, and went to make coffee. When it was done, I sat on the couch, sipping coffee, trying to make sense of what had happened the night before. I glanced at the two glass terrariums that hold my lovely boa constrictors.

Ellie and Nellie seemed to be glaring at me. Logically, I know that snakes have very poor vision, and if they could see me at all from that distance, I was nothing but a shapeless blur to them. Nonetheless, I swore I could read accusation and disgust in their faces. I can’t say that I blamed them.

What the hell have I become?

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Passing Cloud

I remember a feeling of empowerment when I awoke the next morning.

I had given my older sister an experience of ecstasy for the first time in her life. I had done it — no-one else. It was a sense of achievement; an awareness of my own capabilities. I felt proud and in control.

Then on top of that, I had found a way to give myself that same experience. With deft manipulation I could have that self-pleasure virtually any time. Two major events in one night, three in one day. My god, what would happen today? I strode purposefully off to school, my big sister trailing in my wake. My mind raced and I thought about Maria. I wished and hoped that she would be eager for some sort of repeat of yesterday, and I would have a chance to show her what I could do. To show her my newfound talents; to give her a taste of the pleasure that she’d already given me. I wanted her to love and want me like I did her.

It didn’t quite turn out that way, though.

My morning passed again in a haze of imaginings, but I did manage to stay out of trouble with the teachers until, at lunchtime, I was able to sprint off in search of Maria and the ‘gang’.

I met them, out of breath, in the playground near the library. They greeted me warmly, particularly Maria who, as I ran to her, casually put her arm across my shoulders (my heart leapt) and affectionately stroked the back of my head, trailing her fingers through my hair, briefly touching the skin on the back of my neck. (Oh, my…)

To my dismay, the first thing she said was “I couldn’t get the key today, so we can’t go in there,” nodding towards the hall. Then, seeing the disappointment written on my face, she smiled broadly, gave my shoulders an encouraging squeeze, and said, “But that’s alright; we’ll find somewhere else to go with my favourite little girlfriend.”

With her arm still resting casually on my shoulders, and me positively glowing after her “favourite little girlfriend” line, we wandered off behind the library — seemingly aimlessly — but actually with real purpose.

It was an old school covering many acres and, as newer facilities had been developed, the older buildings had fallen into varying levels of disuse. Such a one was before us now — a detached double unit, dating from the forties, boasting high steel-framed windows — still miraculously intact — now used as an almost-forgotten storage space for random pieces of school furniture and paraphernalia.

There was no one else about, so Maria tried the door. The old steel handle squealed as she pushed it down, and the frame juddered and groaned as she pulled, but happily, with just a little effort, the door creaked open just enough for a little girl to get through.

We quickly slipped inside, pulled the door closed behind us, and disappeared behind the haphazardly stored furniture.

It was a sunny day, and dust danced in the intensified light which burned through the tall windows. It was hot, much hotter than outside, and there was an eerie quiet — broken only by the sound of our feet as we shuffled through the maze of old furniture. I was dazzled by the glare as I gazed around, following Maria as she manoeuvred through the melee. There were butterflies in my stomach: adrenalin rising.

We came to a small area in the midst of an array of tall cupboards — an area out of sight from the outside, where a number of chairs were stacked beside a low table.

Maria pulled a chair off the stack and sat down, commenting, “Nobody can see us here.”

In turn taking a chair and sitting down, Nancy said, “What should we do, then?”

Kathy and Jude followed suit, taking a chair each and dropping into place with Nancy and Maria. They unconsciously formed a little enclave around the low table, one on each side, facing inwards. There were no more chairs.

Suddenly feeling isolated and awkward, I stood meekly behind Maria, saying nothing, self-consciously twisting my hair around the fingers of one hand while nervously gnawing a knuckle of the other.

Maria spun around, straddling the chair. She leaned on the chair back, rested her chin on her arms as she looked at me. There was a glow about her, a spark in her big brown eyes. A huge smile spread across her face and I was once more bewitched by her beauty; her full red lips, her even white teeth. I longed for her. She really was stunning. I noticed the flash of her pink tongue as she spoke.

“I know what I’d like to do.” She paused. “I’d like to see my little girlfriend naked.”

The butterflies instantly returned as panic swept through me. I didn’t know what to say. Wide-eyed, I looked around to the left, to the right — as though desperately seeking a way out.

The panic didn’t last long, however.

Maria stood, took my hand in hers. She lifted my chin with her fingertips, gazed into my eyes, said, “Will you, Little Sis… for me?”

Then the clincher. She bent down, put her lips to my cheek, kissed me gently and whispered, “Please.”

I felt the imprint of her lips like a burn. I was hers. No doubt. I would do whatever she wanted.

I bowed my head a little, and looked up at her from under my brows. It was a look of humility. I managed a sweet little smile, then nodded my assent.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, “fantastic!” She took my hand again and, leading me as if onto a stage, said, “Here. Stand on the table and do it there so we can see you properly.”

As I stepped onto the low table (fortunately in one piece and quite stable), the others, who had been silently watching up to this point, burst into a spontaneous (if quiet) round of applause. Jude started to hum the tune from “The Stripper,” and the others all laughed, even Maria.

For a moment I had second thoughts, and pleaded, “Don’t make fun, or I won’t do it.”

Again Maria soothed me. She put her hand on my arm, squeezing gently. “We’re not making fun of you, Sis, I promise. Come on, strip off for us.”

She sat down and there I was, surrounded on all sides by eleven-year-old girls who were intensely scrutinising me, waiting for me. I was the centre of their attention. Suddenly I felt important, wanted. I began to feel good.

I was facing Maria, who smiled up at me. To my left was my sister Kathy, to my right Nancy, and behind me Jude.

“Take off your blouse,” instructed Maria.

I pulled my crisp cotton blouse out of the waistband of my skirt and hurriedly unfastened the buttons. Taking hold of the open front, I quickly checked the faces around me. They were all staring, all smiling.

I removed the blouse and threw it onto an adjacent chest of drawers.

For a moment I self-consciously wrapped my arms around my naked torso. I felt vulnerable, exposed. Then I felt it. That warm glow between my legs, the feeling I had begun to crave: arousal.

In my language of the time, I was starting to feel “sexy.”

“Take your skirt off.” It was Maria again, another instruction — and more compliance from me.

I unfastened my skirt and let it drop to the table top. I stepped out of it and threw it alongside my discarded blouse.

There were a couple of comments then. “Ooh, sexy bum!” Nancy shouted.

“Nice knickers!” giggled Jude.

“Take them off,” said Maria.

I looked around again. The faces were suddenly more intense, more alert. Half-smiles flickered, tongues licked lips. I noticed a slight flush to Nancy’s cheeks. My sister was leaning forward, her arms folded in her lap. Jude’s eyes seemed strangely liquid.

I realise now that she wore her lust like a badge.

I faced Maria again. I looked into her eyes and watched as her gaze lowered; became focused between my legs.

I kept my eyes on her as I started to push my panties down. I slid them along my thighs, slowly — then, when they were at my knees, I let them fall. I stood up and stepped out of them.

Automatically my hands went to cover myself, flapping nervously in front of my bare vulva.

“Move your hands,” ordered Maria. “Put them on your head.”

I should have felt embarrassed, but I was actually grateful for the instruction. Having somewhere to put them, they were no longer my responsibility. Not my problem.

So I stood, naked except for my shoes and socks, and displayed myself.

Maria spoke again. Leadership seemed effortless to her. “Take your shoes and socks off. I want you with nothing on at all. Then put your hands back up.”

It was a strange moment for me. Essentially naked, I was feeling quite comfortable exposed like that, with the girls examining me. But as I passively removed first my shoes, then my socks, I began to feel more than naked.

In the brilliant, relentless sunshine, I felt oddly helpless, with no one to protect me. Vulnerable, like a baby.

Now with my hands back on my head, Maria instructed me again. “Open your legs a bit. Let’s have a good look at you.”

As I moved my little feet slightly apart — the table top wouldn’t allow any more — Maria got up and stood facing me. She was close, so close I could feel her breath on my face. Then, smiling warmly throughout, she started to feel me.

First she put her hands on my face, caressed my cheeks, my eyelids, my lips. She ran her fingers through my hair, then stroked my hands and forearms, which remained in place as she had instructed.

Her hands started to move down to my neck, then my shoulders.

She felt along the inside of my raised arms, stroked my sensitive armpits. I squirmed, my face contorting.

“Does it tickle?” she asked, her hands resting on my sensitive skin.

I nodded, suppressing a giggle, and looked pleadingly into her eyes.

Her grin widened and hinted at wickedness, as she said, “Don’t move,” then started to tickle me in earnest. Her flickering fingers drummed and played in my armpits, then tormented my ribs, then back under my arms. Again and again she did this, for what seemed like minutes. Her smile turned to laughter as I squirmed and wriggled under her gorgeous cruelty. She laughed as she ordered me to, “Stay still. How can I tickle you properly if you keep moving about?” The others were all laughing and giggling too as she tortured me, but I somehow managed to stay upright, to endure, to actually enjoy what she was doing to me. My helplessness manifest; and I was soaking.

Her tickles turned to caresses then as she felt my chest, gliding across my tiny nipples, making me tremble.

It felt lovely and I wanted her to do it again.

Instead she crouched down, sliding her hands down my flanks, reaching behind to caress my small, round buttocks, then down the full length of my legs — front and back — then, even, to my naked toes, which she stroked and examined in detail.

She stood up then, trailing her hands up the inside of my thighs until, blissfully, I felt her cup my vulva in her hand and slide her finger along the tight slit.

She said, “Let’s show the others,” and nudged me round so I was facing Nancy. Crouching down again, she carefully parted my little lips and, smiling at Nancy, simply said “Look at her little cunt. I love it!”

Nancy, even more flushed, reached out to touch me. Maria stretched me wider as Nancy’s finger tips tickled my exposed clitoris. She chuckled playfully as my hips involuntarily jerked, and I uttered an appreciative “Oooh!”

Softly she asked, “Is that nice?”

I could only respond through tightly pressed lips. “Mmmm.”

She took hold of my hips and told me to turn around. Jude was looking up at me. She was also smiling. Her eyes lustfully roamed up and down my body.

Maria, however, hadn’t finished with Nancy yet. With a hand on each of my buttocks, she used her thumbs to part my cheeks. I sensed the movement as Maria and Nancy moved closer to look at my anus.

I could feel their breath on the back of my thighs.

I can’t begin to express how exciting it was, that personal inspection — my most secret, private place (or so I thought) being looked at, examined in broad daylight. It felt so rude, so forbidden. I loved it.

Again I instinctively jerked my hips as I felt a fingertip’s soft caress between my cheeks.

Misunderstanding my reaction, Maria gently chided, “No, Sis, don’t do that. Don’t move away. Let her.”

I felt the finger touch my anus and Nancy sigh, “Oh,” then “Ooh,” then, to Maria, “I can’t believe I’m touching her here.” She giggled then and I felt a light pressure on my anus. It felt so nice that I wanted her to push harder, but instead Maria said, “Okay, move round. It’s Jude’s turn now.”

So the process was repeated — first with Jude, then with my sister Kathy. Jude seemed to be allowed longer to examine my anus — which she did while simultaneously tickling my clitoris — all the while commenting on how it looked and felt. Finally, as she almost penetrated my sphincter with her probing finger, she said, “That’s great. I love her little bum hole.”

By comparison, my sister only spent a short time inspecting me — presumably in reaction to her passive role at my hands the previous night — but nevertheless her soft touch and eager praise sent thrills of pleasure through me.

When they’d all had their turn, Maria stood up in front of me again. She put her hand between my legs and started to stroke me rhythmically along my slit. Her other hand played with my nipples, stroking, squeezing and lightly pinching them in turn.

It felt wonderful.

I stared at her lovely face as she played with me. I was gently swaying to this sensual rhythm, floating in pleasure, loving her more and more with each caress, when she leaned forward and whispered the question, “Have you ever been tongued?”

Continue on to Chapter 4

Introduction by JetBoy: A Little History

It was about seven years ago when I first stumbled onto Muffi’s story “Mommy, Show Me How” while idly searching the Internet for juicy lesbian fiction. Immediately smitten by what I read, I dropped her a line to tell her how much I enjoyed it. She went on to join yours truly among the roster of authors at the Lesbian Lolita site, and a long-distance friendship was born.

Soon she began a new story, a lengthy one, “My Niece Janelle.” Four chapters were completed and posted, then Muffi contacted me with a problem: her regular editor was unavailable, and she’d never worked without one. She asked me to take on the task, and I happily accepted.

We quickly discovered that the two of us worked extremely well as a team. She would write the chapter, I’d tinker with it and make suggestions, and we agreed about 99.5% of the time. (Much later, I went back to the earlier chapters and edited those as well. These will appear for the first time at Juicy Secrets.)

Muffi’s characters are so vividly drawn that it was easy to get into their heads and think like they do. This came in handy when she got stuck on chapter 9 and found herself unable to finish it. She asked me to complete the chapter… and we were both pleased with the result.

Muffi chose to depart our scene a couple of years ago for personal reasons. She is profoundly missed. As her editor and occasional collaborator, my hope is to write a concluding chapter for this story. Like all the others, it will be credited to Muffi. “My Niece Janelle” will always be her creation. She built the house — all I did was slap on a coat of paint and move the furniture around a bit.

Wherever you are, Muffi, my thanks, love, regards, and eternal friendship go out to you.

yrs, JetBoy

---

My Niece Janelle
By Muffi

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in February 2010 }

For the men out there reading this, you’ll pardon me if I’m a bit cynical, but I believe that you’ll enjoy this story that I’m about to tell you if for no other reason than the fact that it illustrates that women can be every bit as perverted as any man. I’ve also noticed that for some reason, men seem to be completely fascinated by the idea of two females being sexually involved with each other. I’m not sure why that is, but whatever. Let’s just say that what you’re about to read isn’t your typical girl-does-girl story, leave it at that, and let you read on.

This is a serialized story, and as such, it will take some time to get to the lesbian sex. Please be patient…

***

My name is Meagan Bristol. I’m a thirty-something-year-old woman, queer as a three dollar bill, and this is about how I made the startling discovery that little girls are the ultimate sexual turn-on for me. Well, at least one little girl is.

Mind you, I don’t run around seeking out children to molest. But I have fallen completely, utterly, desperately, head over heels in love and lust with one little nine-year-old girl. She’s my sister’s daughter, Janelle. And we now share a relationship that is quite simply the most amazing experience of my life.

Furthermore, my niece has seen fit to bring her best friend into our relationship. That initially scared the living hell out of me, but I’ve grown accustomed to it, and as you’ll see, it can be quite, um… stimulating, shall we say?

Janelle and I have always been close. Ever since she was a toddler, we’ve spent a lot of time together. We’ve always been more like best friends than aunt and niece. These days, most families are in the position where husband and wife, or partner and partner, both have to work in order to make ends meet, and my sister and her husband are no exception. As a freelance graphic artist, I’m pretty much able to set my own schedule, which leaves me free to take care of Janelle while her parents are at work, saving them some considerable money in child care expenses. I’ve never minded — quite the contrary. I love being with Janelle, spending time with her, doing things with her. As I said, we’re more like best friends than anything else, regardless of the difference in our ages.

Contrary to the opinions of some, most gay people are not interested in children as sex partners. We aren’t all out there on the prowl, seeking to molest the first little boy or little girl we come across. For my part, I never once thought of a child in a sexual way before I became smitten with Janelle.

I don’t know what will happen between us down the road, but I’m a realist. I’m more than twenty years older than Janelle is. I seriously doubt that this will last forever. If it does, then I won’t complain, but if it doesn’t, which is much more likely, I won’t hesitate to let go of her, either. But for now, I’m going to enjoy what my niece and I share together, revel in it, and do my best to make sure she knows how much she’s loved.

This all began about six months ago, give or take a few weeks. It was the day before Janelle’s ninth birthday. I’d picked her up after school and brought her back to my place, where we were planning to spend some “girl time” together until her Mom got off work and picked her up. I’d promised to help her paint her fingernails and toenails in preparation for the big day, which fell on a Saturday. She was beside herself with excitement, because she was going to have a big party that afternoon.

Janelle is something of a tomboy, really. Not what you’d call a “hardcore” tomboy, but she’s definitely not a girly-girl, either. She’ll put on dresses and skirts for special occasions, but she much prefers jeans and sneakers. That Saturday definitely counted as one of those special occasions, so we were planning on dolling her up completely, making sure that she looked the proper ladylike part.

We’d done the whole girl thing in the past, but this was the first time that Janelle had ever thought about having her toenails painted. Her mother had bought her a cute little pair of open-toed sandals, and when I mentioned doing her nails, she thought that sounded like a fabulous idea. So there we were on the day before her birthday, sitting in the middle of my bed with bottles of nail polish and a bag of cotton balls. We were chatting and giggling, having a wonderful time.

Janelle was fascinated by the toenail painting process. Her feet are terribly ticklish, so it took a little while to get the cotton balls snugly situated between her toes. She kept squirming, laughing insanely while I tried to wedge the bits of cotton in place. The task finally accomplished, we sat facing each other and I got to work, one tiny foot cradled in my lap as I applied the bright pink polish to her toenails.

I was intent on what I was doing, peering down at her foot as I began to apply the first coat. Janelle suddenly went silent for a few moments. I thought that she was just concentrating on not being ticklish. When she spoke, though, there was a serious tone to her voice.

“Aunt Meagan, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Sweetie,” I absently replied, carefully finishing the edge of a toenail. “You can ask me anything, you know that.”

She hesitated for a few heartbeats. I looked up at her, and saw that her face was very serious now.

“What is it, Sweetie?” I asked.

“What does “bulldyke” mean?”

What the hell? I thought. Where did that come from?

“Sweetie, where did you hear that?” I asked her.

“From Sarah,” she replied. “See, there’s this girl at school, her name is Sara, too, ‘cept she doesn’t have an “H” at the end of her name. Anyways, most of the kids don’t like her, I don’t know why. She’s really quiet, and she doesn’t hang out with hardly anyone at school. So, today, I decided to eat my lunch at the same table with her and try to talk to her. I feel sorry for her, cause nobody else really likes to be around her cause she’s kinda different. Anyways, after lunch, Sarah — the other Sarah, I mean — told me I shouldn’t hang out with Sara, cause she’s a bulldyke. What did she mean, Aunt Meagan?”

It took me a moment to sort out the rush of words, and to get Sarah and Sara straight. I felt a sharp stab of sympathy for little Sara, who seemed to have earned, somehow, the hateful label of bulldyke.

I took a deep breath, then looked back down at Janelle’s toes, continuing to apply nail polish.

“Well,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully, “that’s a term that some people use to describe gay women.”

Janelle knew already about my sexual orientation. Her parents are quite open with her about things like that, and on those occasions when she’d seen me with a date or with one of my short-lived girlfriends, she’d been curious. So she knew what it meant for a person to be gay. She didn’t seem to have any problem with it, just a natural curiosity.

Apparently, though, she’d never heard some of the more vicious terms for non-heterosexual people. Welcome to real life, Sweetie, I thought.

“But what’s it mean, Aunt Meagan?”

“Uhmm…” I was trying to figure out the best way to describe to a little girl, a day shy of being nine years old, what it meant to be a bulldyke.

“Bulldyke is a stereotype, Sweetie. Do you know what that is?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“A stereotype is when you believe that a certain thing is true of everyone in a group of people. Like, when you say that Irish people drink a lot of booze, or all black people have big lips, or all gay men act like girls, or all Asian people are really smart. “Bulldyke” is a term that people think of when they see a woman who looks like a man. When she’s big and strong, and maybe has really short hair, or acts like a man. Some people, as soon as they find out that a woman is gay, start calling her a bulldyke as an insult.”

Well, that was probably the worst definition I’d ever heard for the term — but then, I’d never been asked to define it before.

“But Sara doesn’t look like a man,” Janelle said — rather indignantly, I thought.

I laughed. God, to be nine years old again.

“I’m sure she doesn’t, Sweetie,” I said. “But she’s quiet, and she doesn’t hang out with the other kids much, right?”

“Yeah. She’s really shy, I think. She just keeps to herself mosta the time.”

“Sweetie, sometimes, when people think that someone is different than they are, they don’t know how to react. For some reason, they’re afraid of people who are different. So, they call them names and insult them. I don’t know why, really; it’s just the way that some people act.”

I had finished with Janelle’s right foot, and I took her left foot in my hand and began to paint her toenails.

“That’s just stupid!” Janelle exclaimed. “When I ate lunch with Sara today, she was nice. She didn’t say much, but she was nice. Why would Sarah say that about her?”

Sarah/Sara again, I thought.

“I don’t know, Sweetie,” I said. “Maybe she got jealous because you sat with Sara and not with her. She might be afraid that she’ll lose a friend.”

“Well, that’s just silly. I can be friends with more than one person, can’t I?”

“Of course you can. I really don’t know why Sarah would say something like that, Sweetie. You’d have to ask her.”

Janelle got quiet again for a few moments. I kept on painting her toenails.

“Aunt Meagan, why do people hate gay people so much?”

This one was pretty easy. We’d talked about this before.

“Because most people are afraid of anyone they think is different, Sweetie.”

“But, why?” she asked, almost desperately.

“Well,” I began, “it’s just how people are. Look, you’re not afraid of snakes, are you?”

“Nuh-uh,” Janelle said, shaking her head.

“But, do you remember when you used to be so scared of them?”

She nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“That was because you didn’t understand them. Snakes are different than you, of course. They’re snakes, not people. You just didn’t understand anything about them. But when you learned about them, and found out that they’re pretty cool, you stopped being afraid, because you understood them better. It’s sort of the same thing. If someone is different, a lot of people are afraid of them, because they don’t understand them.”

I keep a couple of boa constrictors as pets, in case you were wondering why I used snakes as an example. Janelle used to be terrified of them. Now, she has to at least pet both of them every time she visits, and she loves to drape them around her neck now. Snakes make good, low maintenance pets. Toss them the occasional rat, and they’re good to go.

“But, that’s not the same,” Janelle said. “I mean, snakes are animals. Gay people are just people. Why would anyone be afraid of them?”

“For the same reason that some people are afraid of people who don’t have the same color skin as they do. They’re afraid because they’re different.”

Janelle sighed. “I’ll never get it,” she said.

“Honestly, Sweetie, I hope you never do get it,” I said. “I hope you go through your whole life not worrying about how people are different from you, and just focus on how they’re really the same as you are.” I sat up straight. “Okay, the first coat is done. We’ll let that dry, and then put on a second coat, okay?”

Janelle lifted one foot, looking at her toes, wiggling them a little.

“That looks so cool!”

“I’m glad you approve of my artwork,” I said.

She beamed at me.

Janelle is such a beautiful little girl. Even for her age, she’s small and very slender. Willowy, would be a good word to describe her body type. She has a face like the classic faerie, complete with the tiny button nose and enormous, liquid looking eyes. The eyes are her most striking facial feature. They’re a rich, deep, almost cobalt blue color. They’re the most unusual color of blue eyes I’ve ever seen. They dominate her face. When she grows up, they’re still going to be large, and probably even more striking, if that’s possible.

Her soft, fine hair is strawberry blonde, more towards the reddish side. It’s cut in the classic pageboy style, with the ends just brushing her shoulders, and bangs that just touch her slender eyebrows. Her mouth reminds me of Drew Barrymore’s mouth at that age, with full lips shaped like a perfect Cupid’s bow. Her chin is delicate and pointed, and she has a heavy dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Like I said, she’s small, petite and very slender. She still has that boyish figure that all little girls have, but I have no doubt that she’s going to grow into a breathtakingly beautiful young woman one day.

“Aunt Meagan?”

“Yes, Sweetie?” I replied.

“Can you help me find Sara’s phone number?”

I was confused for a moment. She talked to Sarah almost every day on the phone. Then it dawned on me. She meant Sara-with-no-“H” in her name.

“Do you know her last name?” I asked.

“Davidson,” she said, nodding.

“Okay,” I said, “let me get the phone book, and we’ll see what we can find.”

I was curious, but I didn’t say anything.

I went across the hall to my office and grabbed the phone book, as well as the phone. I plopped myself back on the bed with Janelle and opened up the book, looking for that last name of “Davidson.” Thankfully, there were only three listed. Smaller towns have their advantages.

The first try was a wrong number, of course. When she dialed the second number, though, and asked for Sara, she had the right one.

“Is Sara there?” she asked.

“This is Janelle McCarthy, from school,” she said a moment later; then, “Thank you.”

She was silent for a moment, waiting for the other girl to come to the phone. I watched her as she began to speak again.

“Hi Sara! This is Janelle. From school? I ate lunch with you today, remember?”

Another moment of silence.

“Well, I was just calling to see if you wanted to come to my house tomorrow afternoon. It’s my birthday, an’ I’m having a party. And since we had lunch together today an’ you seem pretty cool and stuff, I thought maybe you’d like to come to my party.”

Again, silence as she listened.

“You don’t hafta get me a present,” she said. “I don’t care about that. I just thought maybe you’d like to come and hang out with me for a while.”

There was a longer silence this time.

“You can? Awesome! Okay, it’s at two o’clock at my house, and uhm…” Her eyes rolled up to look at me. “Maybe I better let my aunt talk to your Mom to give her directions? ‘Kay, you get your Mom, and I’ll put my aunt on the phone.”

What an amazing little girl, I thought. I was very, very proud of my niece at that moment.

“Hello?”

The woman sounded slightly hesitant, with a very soft, almost timid voice. I introduced myself, and confirmed that yes, Janelle was indeed having a birthday party tomorrow afternoon, and that she very much wanted Sara to come.

“I… I’m afraid that we wouldn’t be able to get her a gift,” she said, her voice full of apology, and something else that I couldn’t quite put a name to.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” I said. “Janelle is much more concerned with being a social butterfly than with getting gifts. She just wants Sara to come to the party and hang out with her and her friends for the afternoon.”

Janelle gave me a slap on the leg for calling her a social butterfly, and I grinned at her.

I gave Sara’s mother directions to my sister’s house, and told her we’d see her tomorrow afternoon. I told her to drop Sara off anytime after one o’clock, and that if she wanted, she was welcome to stay, or I could just bring Sara home after the party.

“Thank you, but I won’t be able to stay,” she said. “I’ll have to be at work tomorrow at three, so if you could bring her home, that would be wonderful.”

“No problem,” I told her. “We’ll see you tomorrow then.”

Janelle was tugging on the leg of my jeans, telling me that she wanted to talk to Sara again.

“Janelle wants to speak with Sara again, if that’s okay. It was nice talking to you.”

“Thanks, nice talking to you, too,” she replied quietly.

“Sara? ‘Kay, so you’re coming, right? Awesome!! Oh, and bring a bathing suit or some old shorts and a tee shirt. We don’t have a pool, but my Mom said if it’s warm enough we can turn on the lawn sprinkler and mess around in the water in the back yard, ‘kay? ‘Kay, see you tomorrow! Bye!!”

She pushed the button to turn off the phone and handed it back to me. I looked at her and smiled.

“Janelle, that was a very nice thing you just did,” I said.

She shrugged. “Sarah’s not gonna like it,” she said, “but that’s too bad. I like Sara. Sarah’s just gonna hafta get over it.”

“Well, it was still a very nice thing to do.”

Janelle blushed prettily.

“It’s not a big deal,” she said. “I really do like her.”

“I’m sure you do, Sweetie. I’m just saying that sometimes, it takes real courage to reach out to someone that your friends don’t like. I’m proud of you.”

“Aunt Meagan, stop it!” Janelle squealed. “You’re embarrassing me!”

“Well, if it embarrasses you that I’m proud of you,” I said, “then get used to it. I’m never going to stop being proud of you.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon finishing up with Janelle’s toenails and fingernails, talking and giggling like two little girls. That’s one of the things I love so much about my niece. Sometimes, she makes me feel like I’m a kid again.

My sister, Katherine, came by after work to pick up Janelle. Janelle excitedly told her that there would be another guest at the party tomorrow.

“Another one? Do I know who it is?”

“Nope, you never met her,” Janelle said. “I decided to invite her this afternoon.”

“Sweetie,” I said, “why don’t you get your things together, okay?”

Janelle nodded and ran off to gather up her school books, jacket, purse, and all of the other odds and ends that little girls find indispensable. While she did, I gave Kate a quick rundown about the Sarah/Sara situation, and how Janelle was choosing to handle it.

“Oh, God,” she said. “That Sarah — the one I do know — is a snotty little brat. I really can’t stand that kid, but she’s Janelle’s friend, so I try to put up with her. I can only take her in small doses, though. She really is a supreme little bitch.”

“So I gathered,” I said. “I hope she knows enough to keep her mouth shut and behave tomorrow.”

“Probably not,” Kate sighed. “No worries, though, I can handle her if it comes to that.”

“Good,” I said. “I could handle her, too, but probably not the way that you can. I’ll probably choke her if she gets out of hand.”

Kate laughed. “Now, now. Can’t be beating up on little girls, Meagan,” she said.

“Listen, any nine-year-old girl who calls another little girl a ‘bulldyke’ needs to be throttled,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” said Kate. “We’ll just play it by ear. Actually, I think Janelle can probably handle it herself, to be honest with you.”

“I have no doubt,” I laughed. “She’s quite the little crusader sometimes. By the way, I’ll be there early to help you with setting things up,” I said. “I’ll be making her cake tonight.”

“She’s going to be so excited that you’re baking her cake,” she said. “I haven’t told her. She thinks I’m going to do my usual cake mix thing for her.”

“You might not be so grateful when you see what I’m doing,” I said, with an evil smile.

Kate raised her hand. “I don’t want to know,” she said. “Just surprise me.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Just don’t get sexual with it, okay? Remember, these are kids, not adults.”

“Oh, please,” I said. “Do you really think I’d do something like that?”

“No,” she grinned, “but I have to give my oversexed lesbian big sister a hard time once in a while.”

“Bitch,” I said, glaring at her.

She snickered. “You’re just too easy to needle, Meagan.”

Janelle came thumping back into the room at that moment, then looked at her mother apologetically. “I didn’t do my homework yet, Mom,” she said. “Me and Aunt Meagan were too busy with my nails. I’ll do it tonight after supper, though, I promise.”

“That’s fine, Baby,” said Kate. “You getting your schoolwork done is not a worry I have. You always do it, and you always do it well.”

“What’re we having for supper?”

“Well, I thought that since tomorrow is going to be very busy, we could start celebrating your birthday with supper tonight, so…” She let the sentence trail off into silence.

Janelle’s huge, cobalt blue eyes lit up. “Pizza? Really?” She squealed out the words.

“Yes, really,” Kate said, laughing. “Pizza. With lots and lots of extra cheese, extra pepperoni, and extra “smushrooms,” just the way you like it.”

“Yessss!!” It was a hiss, and both Kate and I laughed out loud.

“Don’t eat too much, Janelle,” I said, looking her up and down. “Lord knows you can’t afford the extra weight.”

“Huh?” Janelle looked down at her waifish little body, then back up at me. “Cut it out, Aunt Meagan! I’m not fat!”

“No, you certainly aren’t, little one,” I said. “I was being sarcastic. You could stand to put on about ten pounds, actually.”

Kate gave me a look. “You sound like Mom,” she said, smirking at me.

I grimaced. There’s very little love lost between our mother and I. “Don’t even think like that,” I said.

“Too easy, Meagan,” she grinned. “Just too easy.”

I stuck my tongue out at her. Yeah, I’m really mature sometimes. Janelle giggled.

“Okay, we should be going,” said Kate. “Just show up whenever, Meagan, and I’ll put you right to work.”

I followed my sister and my niece to the front door. Janelle made a quick detour into the living room, stopping near the two glass aquariums that hold my pet boa constrictors. Kate gave a grimace of distaste.

“Bye, Ellie, bye, Nellie,” Janelle sang.

The snakes didn’t move. They’d been fed the day before, so they were quite lethargic.

Kate shook her head, but she didn’t say anything. She’d given up making comments about my choice of pets.

“Bye, Aunt Meagan! See you tomorrow!!”

“Bye, Sweetie,” I said. “Try to get a little bit of sleep tonight, okay?”

“I will,” Janelle said.

“Fat chance,” said Kate, smiling.

After they left, I returned to the kitchen, heated up some leftover meatloaf, and made a sandwich for myself. After I’d eaten, I poured a glass of wine, and set to work baking Janelle’s birthday cake.

I have a pretty good sense of design. It’s what I do for a living, after all, and I’d decided to do a special theme for Janelle’s cake. I’m also a pretty good baker, so I was looking forward to doing this for her. The cake would be chocolate, of course, Janelle’s favorite. The motif would probably irk my younger sister, but not nearly as much as the reason I’d chosen it. I grinned suddenly. Kate was going to be pissed off at me, but she’d get over it.

After I’d baked and cooled the cakes, I set about cutting, arranging, and decorating the result. I was pleased. I’d done a pretty good job, actually. Janelle would love it, I knew. Transporting it might be a problem, though. I’d have to find a way to stitch together a box that was long enough and wide enough. I’d figure something out.

By the time I was finished, it was almost midnight, and I was tired. I went upstairs to the bathroom, peeled off my clothes, turned on the shower, and waited for the water to get hot. As I waited, I did a short appraisal of myself in the bathroom mirror.

While I’m beginning to show some signs of the fact that I’m well beyond the wrong side of thirty-five, all things considered, I’m not doing too badly in the looks department. I’m five feet, seven inches tall, and I weigh in at about one-thirty. Not skinny, but not close to being fat, either. I try to work out on a semi-regular basis, and I’ve managed to keep fairly trim looking.

The one thing that I really hate about myself is my hair. My sister Kate has the exact same hair that her daughter does, that luscious, brilliant strawberry blonde that just gleams in the sunlight. I’d ended up with mousy, dirty blonde hair that always looks dull to me. I refused to color it, though. Even professional dye jobs will ruin your hair eventually, and I’d rather have the plain, dull color and keep my hair healthy than ruin it with chemicals. My hair is all one length, falling to the top of my breasts.

Overall, I’m satisfied with my body. I have curves in all the right places, and I have a splendid ass, if I must tell the truth. My breasts are starting to feel the pull of gravity, though. Not too much, not yet, at least. But the sagging is starting to set in. They’re a healthy, 34-C, with bright pink nipples capping the tips. My nipples are rather prominent. They seem to be in a perpetually erect state. While that can be attractive, it can also force me to have to wear a padded bra sometimes, mostly for business purposes. It’s a small sacrifice though, considering that they can be a turn on for some women. Works for me!

I keep my pubic hair trimmed to a proverbial “landing strip” that’s about a half-inch wide, and ends right at the top of the cleft of my labia. I shave there daily, so the skin is as smooth as the day that I was born. The first time that I shaved my pubic hair, I was amazed at how much more sensitive I was to caresses and touches, and I vowed to keep it that way permanently. My almost total lack of pubic hair makes masturbation even more pleasurable than it had been before. And I tend to masturbate a lot.

No, really. I mean, a lot. Like, twice a day at the bare minimum, whether I’m seeing anyone or not. Three times that number on a regular basis. Currently I’m flying solo, so I do spend a good amount of time pleasuring myself. What can I say? I like orgasms…

My legs are passable, slender without being too thin, and not heavily muscled. My pussy is rather girlish looking; by that I mean that my inner labia are small and rather delicate. They don’t protrude into view unless I hold myself open. Otherwise, they’re hidden from sight, much like a young girl. In a sense, it adds a bit of an illusion of youth to my appearance, at least when I’m naked. I rather like that.

Satisfied, I turned to the shower, which was now steaming hot. I got in and reached for the shampoo, washing my hair, then adding conditioner and letting it sit there and soak in while I soaped up my body. I felt the familiar tingling spasm in my belly when I slid my slick hands down over my pussy, and I lingered there for a moment, caressing myself.

Decisions, decisions… Should I masturbate now, or wait until I was comfortably snuggled into bed? Or both? That sounded like a good idea, but I was really tired, and I decided that I’d rather wait until I was in bed, so that I could drift right off to sleep when I was finished. With mild pang of regret, I stopped caressing my pussy, and finished up getting clean.

I rinsed off, rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, turned off the shower, and slid the door open, reaching for a towel. I blotted the excess water from my skin, then wrapped the towel around my head so my hair wouldn’t be dripping down my back. I reached for the jar of body cream on the vanity, and scooped some out, beginning to rub it into my skin. Gotta keep the skin moisturized, you know. Can’t have it drying out on me.

As I massaged the cream into the skin of my breasts, I felt that stab of desire in my pussy again. Jesus, I really was horny! My hands lingered at my breasts, spending far more time than was necessary just to massage in some body cream. I rolled my nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, gasping as I pinched down hard on them. My pussy suddenly felt warmer, damp with a wetness that had nothing to do with the shower that I’d just finished.

Quickly, I finished massaging the body cream into my belly, legs, and ass. When I started to rub it into my pussy, I sagged a little. God, that felt good! I spread my feet a little wider apart, using both hands to massage the cream into my mons. It only took a few seconds for me to be massaging more than just body cream into my skin. My pussy had started to leak, heavily.

I need to get to bed, I thought. Right now…

I pulled the towel from my head, making sure that I dried it enough so that it wouldn’t soak my bedding. I hung the towel on the rack to dry, then quickly padded off to my bedroom. I turned the blankets down, then opened the drawer of my nightstand.

More important decisions… which toy did I want? I have a fairly extensive collection, but I keep my favorites in the nightstand drawer, close at hand. I do try to be prepared for every eventuality.

I settled on a slender purple vibrator with a wired remote control. The wire could be a pain at times, but it has an amazing variety of settings, and it never fails to help bring me to several screaming orgasms. I left the lubricant in the drawer. I was relatively certain that I’d have no need for it. I seldom do, unless deep anal play comes into the activities. If that happened, it would still be close by.

I know, I know. I’m horny and oversexed. A lesbian nymphomaniac, if the truth has to be told. I prefer to think that I just have a very healthy appetite for sex. You should try it. It’s rather fun, and quite rewarding.

I dimmed the bedroom lights, but didn’t turn them off. Unlike some women I’ve known, I’m rather visual when it comes to sexual activities. I like to see as well as touch and taste. I prefer to leave the lights on when I’m playing. Dimming them just makes things look a bit softer, more romantic.

What? Just because I’m flying solo doesn’t mean that I can’t be romantic with myself, does it?

Two walls of my bedroom are floor to ceiling mirrors. That means that pretty much anytime I want to look at what’s going on in my bed, I only have to turn my head slightly to get a couple of different angles on the activity. I’d stopped short of having a mirror installed on the ceiling above the bed, though. It seemed a bit much. I do still toy with the idea now and then. Maybe one day.

I slid onto my bed, my body now tingling all over in anticipation of a soon to be realized orgasm. Or two. Maybe three, even.

I relaxed down into my pillows with one hand behind my head, my hair lying damp on the tops of my breasts. Slowly, lazily almost, I began to trail my free hand lightly down my body, starting at my collarbone and gliding softly over the skin of my breasts, then my belly, my hips, and along one thigh. I felt my skin tighten as goosebumps rose up in response to the touch. Using the tips of my fingernails, I trailed my hand back up along my skin, shivering slightly at the sensation. Almost a tickle, but so much more.

Turning my head to one side, I watched myself as I continued the slow, teasing exploration of my own body with my fingertips. As my nails brushed over my pussy, I felt a wet spot beginning to form on the sheet beneath my ass. I moaned softly, sliding the palm of my hand up along my belly to my left breast. I watched in the mirror as my hand slid up to cup it, still more firm than not, squeezing it gently.

My fingers dug firmly into the flesh of my breast, kneading it, and I moaned again. Bringing my fingertips together slowly, I grasped my left nipple, pinching it hard, then rolling it between my fingers. I pinched down harder and pulled, lifting the weight of my breast up away from my body by the tip of my nipple, and moaned again. My nipples like to be treated roughly.

Still watching myself, I dipped my head downwards, my hand moving under my breast and lifting it towards my face. I opened my mouth, and sucked my nipple in, closing my teeth on it. I stared at myself as I bit down, bringing yet another moan and making my hips writhe on the bed, the wet spot growing larger. I bit harder, the tip of my tongue fluttering over my nipple as I worried at it with my teeth. I felt a sharp spasm in my pussy, and I knew that the first orgasm wouldn’t require the use of any toys.

Panting, I released my nipple from the grip of my mouth. It fell back with a soft slurping sound as my mouth let go. Damn, but I was horny! Of their own volition, both of my hands slid down my body, fingertips pressing down against my mons, sliding down between my legs. I gasped as one finger slid into the cleft, brushing across my clit, already swollen and distended, peeking out from its delicate little hood.

My pussy almost ached with need. I was close already; this was going to happen fast tonight.

I turned my head again as I spread my legs wide, pulling my feet up and dropping my knees sideways so that I was splayed open. I moved my gaze to the wall that faces the foot of the bed, another wall of mirrors. I saw my legs spread almost obscenely wide, my pussy gaping open and glistening with wetness. I put my hands on my knees, and slid them up along my inner thighs. When they reached the top, I brought my left hand up further, settling my first three fingers into the open cleft of my labia, so that the pad of my middle finger rested directly on top of my swollen clit. I moaned again.

The first two fingers of my right hand dipped into my pussy, sliding easily through the wet, slick lubrication there. I gasped, both at the sight and at the sensations, and began to move the fingers of my left hand in a steady circle on my clit. I watched as my hips lifted, bringing my ass up from the bed, meeting my hands and burying the fingers of my right hand deeply into my wet tunnel.

I moaned loudly as I felt the first hard spasm clench my pussy. I was sloppy wet tonight; well, I usually get quite wet anyway, but it was heavy even for me. I could hear the liquid sounds as my fingers began to pummel into my pussy faster and harder. Looking into the mirror, I could see the fluids flowing freely over my hand and down the crack of my ass, soaking the sheet beneath me. I should have brought that towel with me, I thought, then promptly forgot to care about it.

My left hand was moving faster, too, rubbing tight little circles against my sensitive clit, sending wave after wave of pure pleasure through my body. I pressed them down harder, moaning, reveling in the ecstasy that was washing over me in endless, hot waves. I felt the peak beginning to approach, and I groped my way towards it, reaching desperately for the sweet, overwhelming release of orgasm.

I felt it rising from deep inside my pussy, like a hard knot in the pit of my stomach, slowly unwinding itself. My ass clenched tightly as my pussy started to spasm in rhythmic waves, muscles rippling, caressing the fingers that were buried deep within me. The last thing I saw in the mirror before my eyes rolled back in my head was a deep crimson flush spreading over my upper chest and into my neck. I didn’t see anything after that, all I could do was feel…

When it hit me, it was amazing. There’s that old cliche about an orgasm washing over you like waves; this was no wave, it was a fucking tsunami! Dimly, I heard myself moaning, a long, deep growling sound that seemed like it was being ripped from inside of me. My mind lost all coherent thought, I was only aware of blackness peppered with exploding, silvery pinpoints of light behind my eyelids. Talk about fireworks!

It went on and on. My fingers were crammed as far into my pussy as I could force them, almost being crushed by the spasms that ripped through me. The fingers on my clit had slowed, but pressed down with much stronger pressure now; a slow, hard, circular motion against the sensitive, blood-engorged little nub. My body was rigid, arched up off the mattress, shuddering it’s way through this mind-numbing explosion. I only know that I was still breathing because I continued to let out that long, gutteral moaning sound.

It left me slowly, almost reluctantly. I let it do what it wanted; I was incapable of arguing with anything about anything. I didn’t have the energy; even breathing seemed like work at the moment. My breasts were heaving. When I opened my eyes finally, still at the tail end of that orgasm, I glanced in the mirror next to me, and saw that I was still arched up from the bed, body still tense. My chest and neck were deeply flushed. My ass and thighs were quivering from the strain of holding myself up in that position. The sight was erotic as all hell.

Slowly, I let my ass sink back to the mattress. The hand that had been working my swollen clit fell to my side; my right hand stayed where it was, fingers crammed into the wet heat of my pussy. The slick walls were still rippling around them, though the spasms had lightened now, responding to the little aftershocks that coursed through my body, making me twitch and tremble. I rolled my head so that I was looking up at the ceiling and blinked very slowly once, twice, then a third time.

“Holy… fucking… Christ… Almighty…” It came out as a hoarse, ragged whisper.

I was pretty sure that Christ Almighty hadn’t just been fucking me, though that orgasm could have been described as divine. Christian believers will tell you that sex is a gift from God. They might just have something there. Though, most good Christians would probably view my indulging in what they tend to think of as self-abuse with some measure of condemnation. Personally, I prefer to think of it as self-love. Whatever. I was pretty sure, though, that if Christ himself ever did decide to fuck me, even he would have a hard time matching that orgasm. Wouldn’t matter anyway, because I don’t do men. Although if they could make me come like that, I might have to reconsider my position.

Okay, so my mind goes in strange directions when I’m well and freshly fucked. Even when I’m the one doing the fucking. Sue me.

I sighed, and let my eyes slip closed as I slid my fingers from inside my pussy, reluctantly. Automatically, I brought them to my lips, extending my tongue and cleaning the essence of myself from them. I’m not shy about things like that; pussy tastes wonderful, and tasting my own is almost always amazingly erotic. When I had cleaned all traces of my own wetness from them, my hand fell back on the pillow above my head. I was literally spent.

Do I want another one? I wondered silently.

Hell, yes, I did. There’s no such thing as too much sex, and particularly, no such thing as too many orgasms. But that one had exhausted me completely. My body still quivered here and there with aftershocks, but I was completely worn out. My mind felt like I’d just finished drinking a magnum of wine by myself, but without any risk of a hangover. In fact, I was aware that when I woke in the morning, I was going to feel absolutely wonderful.

There would be time enough in the morning to play again. In the morning, I thought. Right now, I just want to float away on this dreamy afterglow and drift off to sleep.

That’s precisely what I did. But for some reason, I found myself with a picture of Janelle’s pretty, smiling face in my mind as I sank into unconsciousness. What the hell? I thought dimly. What are you doing here, Sweetie? It was the last thing I was aware of as I fell into slumber.

Continue on to Chapter 2