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Honey Loves – Confessions of an Incestuous Mother, Chapter 4

  • Posted on September 28, 2016 at 2:06 pm

By eloquent delinquent

I turn the cart and start heading toward the back corner of the market, maneuvering around all the shoppers and their baskets. I’m not thinking of my list any more. There’s only one thing on my mind right now, and she’s lovingly regarding me from her seat, looking so innocent, with nothing on under her skirt except the delectable sheen of a fresh cummie.

The store’s getting more crowded now, and I worry about my plan. What if my target isn’t available? I’m so primed right now, I probably want it worse than Bianca did this morning, and look what she did to get it. If I get shut out of my chosen spot, I recklessly imagine myself hoisting my six year old daughter onto the checkout counter, crouching down, throwing her legs over my shoulders, and frenziedly devouring her delectable pussy and asshole right in front of the stunned (and inevitably cute) teenage cashier.

Holy fuck I get so insane when I’m horny! No wonder I was so afraid of myself, so freaked out, after that first time. Back then I thought, surely mothers couldn’t feel this way about their daughters. I’d done some perverted stuff in my life, but incest? That was certainly wrong, that would do damage.

I couldn’t even approach the thought of what had happened on the changing table, of how much I’d liked it, without feeling atrocious. Mothers couldn’t do this, couldn’t feel like this, could they? How could they stand it? It would wreck their children, to be touched like that, to be fondled. Or, let’s face it, masturbated. Otherwise, why was it so forbidden? What would my daughter think of me, now that I’d done those things to her?

My answer came a couple of wretched days later. I was a mess, and Bianca was getting more cranky and emotional by the hour. I chalked it up to my sexual abuse. Afternoon changing time was upon us, another breathless, stiff-necked moment when I tried as best as I could to ignore my daughter’s body while tending to it. Another session of enduring her apprehensive watchfulness, hands up to her shoulders, like she was waiting to see if I would turn back into the monster who had molested her. As I marched her into her room, she kept looking back at me over her shoulder, and when we got in there she stood a bit away from me, by the bed.

“Come on Bon-Bon, get up there,” I told her.

Looking at me intently, she bent and pushed down her sweat pants and trainers, awkwardly stepping out of them and standing to one side, as if proving to me she could do it herself. Then she reached down, took the hem of her little sweatshirt, and peeled it up off over her head, dropping it in a pile on top of the trainers. She stood there naked except for her socks and met my eye again. My breath caught, I felt myself blushing furiously, my panties were instantly soaked.

She crossed past me, close enough that I could smell her sweet body, and climbed up onto the changing table, turning and lying on her back. It was like my daughter was in complete control now, and I obediently took my usual place by the end of the table, looking at her nude body, flustered. I saw the same bright pinkness between her legs I’d seen before. Her tiny nipples were hard. She gently squirmed, getting comfy. I cleared my throat, struggling for composure, and absently reached for a wipe.

Bianca raised her legs and spread them at the same time, tipping her hips up, up. She reached up and held her ankles just above her ruffled white socks, crossing them above her smooth chest. She glanced down between her legs, drawing my gaze to where I was trying so hard to avoid, and I could see her pretty, tiny pussy and butt hole turned up to me, displayed for me. I stared, trembling, my mouth filled with spit. Then, shaking myself, I looked back up to my daughter’s face.

She was looking at me steadily, thoughtfully. She shifted again, and her slit winked open to reveal the glistening softness inside. Her eyebrows lifted candidly, and she asked, “Honey, Momma?”

Any pretension of my resistance dissolved right then. With an almost desperate whine, I closed my hands around her warm, plump thighs, and watched as my own thumbs nearly met at the edges of her dainty slit, and began to caress her, up and down.

“Like that, baby? You want Momma to rub your pretty little bonbon like that? Do you want the lovey touches from Momma, honey? Does that make you feel so pretty?”

Smiling hugely, she cooed and rolled her hips against my teasing fingers in a very unchildlike fashion. I used my thumbs to part her lips and expose the unimaginably sweet blossom of her excited little pussy. She gasped.

“Ohh, you make Momma feel so naughty… So naughty, and so happy touching you honey, Momma likes to see you have the pretty feelings… you want Momma to be naughty to her good little girl, honey, to touch you?”

“Momma touch my honey!” Bianca exclaimed.

I made her say it. I couldn’t contain my elation. Suddenly, I gained a new perspective on her behavior. She wasn’t upset because I’d sexually fondled her – she was upset because I hadn’t done it again! But now Momma was making her happy like before, and she was all peaches and cream. My mind was reeling, I kept thinking, she wants it too! And, it’s love it’s just love she doesn’t know any better it feels just like love… And, I’m a terrible mother but I just can’t help it it’s so strange but it’s so beautiful…

The pad of my right thumb slipped into those parted lips, pressed into the hot, moist softness of her folds, while my left stole lower, into her little butt crack, and nestled against her firm little anus. And as I started moving both thumbs in lulling circles, I looked into the face of my little girl and she looked at me and her face became dreamy and joyous and it seemed like every sensation that I gave her pulsed wetly into her body, raced up her spine, and glittered in her grateful, half-lidded brown eyes.

“Oh yes honey that’s it, that’s Momma’s pretty girl, you like that naughty touching don’t you, yeah let Momma give it to you honey, Momma wants to make her little baby feel sooo good…”

“Nnn not… hmh, not a baby, momma…” she insisted, sighing, as her suspended legs began to gently, rhythmically pump.

“No, honey, you’re a big pretty girl and you know how to play like big girls do, like Momma plays with you, rubbing your naughty pretty places and having big girl feelings, yeah like that honey like that…”

I was amazed by how strong her reactions were, how early her sexual instincts could come into play. I always thought I was a freak, feeling the way I did as a little girl. But I started to think maybe lots of girls were like this, if they were left free to explore. Or maybe it was just something passed along from my genes. Either way, her arousal amplified mine and made me so horny I could only surrender to it.

Bianca’s pussy was slippery as my thumb glided along her buttery folds. I licked my other thumb and returned it to my daughter’s anus, making it slide as smoothly as the other. She wiggled, breathing hard, getting more and more wound up.

“ooo mmm momma ahhh… ohhh bibi, bibi honey momma….”

‘Bibi’ was the word we used for her asshole when she potty trained. Apparently she really enjoyed the sensations I was giving her there. Naughty baby girl, I thought, and gushed about half an orgasm into my panties.

Remembering the taste I’d had before, I lifted my thumb off her increasingly lubricated quim, causing her to whimper in frustration. Much more deliberately than before, I placed the moistened pad of my thumb between my parted lips, and slowly licked Bianca’s wetness off of it while I inhaled. The subtle flavor of her immature pussy blossomed in my mouth. I could sense the tartness of her pee, but more present was a lighter, earthier flavor, almost nutty, and I groaned knowing I was tasting her excitement.

Bianca lifted her head and looked at me almost crossly. She scooched her butt so that I rubbed her pucker more firmly, and spread her legs wider for me, whining, “Honey, honey…”

My daughter’s sexual urgency only turned me on more. Almost mindlessly I pumped a generous amount of baby lotion into my free palm. When I removed my other thumb from her butt hole she looked positively betrayed. But as I slathered my hands together I leaned forward, almost at her eye level, and told her, “Don’t worry honey Momma’s gonna make it all better. I’m gonna give you my special love, honey, something only naughty Mommas give to their pretty, naughty girls. You want that, honey, you want Momma’s special love?”

Her expression was halfway between pleading and demanding. “Uh, uh,” she grunted, flexing her little butt. It was all the response she could manage, and all I needed.

I reached out and closed my warm, oily hands over the silky flesh of her legs. With a firm touch I opened them wide as I squeezed and rubbed until her knees were poised to the side of her chubby hips. I ran my hands up the exposed backs of her thighs, over her butt, thumbs grazing her privates, and out around her hips. Then with both hands flat and covering most of her torso, I caressed my three year old’s soft nude body deeply and thoroughly, tummy and waist, chest and pointy nipples, sides and underarms, shoulders and throat, her beautiful skin sliding beneath my palms and fingertips.

Bianca’s eyes got languid and her head lowered to the table with a long happy sigh. I’d massaged her before, but with her arousal and the sensuality of my touch, the sensations she felt were completely different. Soon she was breathing deep, pumping her hips, gently twisting. Between the lotion and her heat, my little girl’s body seemed to glow.

I watched her reaction avidly, loving the feeling of her writhing under my hands. I glanced down, and just beneath my chin was her excited sex, subtly squirming just like the rest of her. Beneath the clean scent of the lotion, I could smell her. I couldn’t resist any more.

Breathlessly I told her, “Momma loves you, honey,” and then I opened my mouth and covered her smooth, tiny slit.

Bianca gasped sharply when my hot wet tongue wiped her pussy for the first time. My response was almost as strong, the flavor of my daughter’s sweet juicy cunt translating as pleasure in my mouth. Her thighs clamped my cheeks, knees at my ears. I stroked her legs, kept rubbing, kept licking. She kept gasping, her hips jerking with each swipe of my tongue, but soon those gasps were sprinkled with breathy giggles, groans and coos, and her legs relaxed into complete, trusting surrender to the delight she experienced.

We were both joined by bliss. The taste of Bianca was more gratifying than any pussy I’d ever had, and I got a rush with each new little pulse of fluid that emerged from her. She was so tiny that I didn’t have to adjust in order to lick her tender, delectable little asshole. I only had to open my mouth wider. She made new, grunting noises when I ground the tip of my tongue against her anal bud, and I knew she loved it. I let my tongue roam and race over her excited intimate parts, practically drooling on her.

I stroked her gorgeous, plump body all the while, but I got one hand free and brought it under the table, awkwardly unbuttoning my jeans. In my squatting position, out of her sight, I forced them and my panties down to my knees, spread my thighs as best as I could, and sank my fingers into my own swollen pussy. The baby lotion was slick and soothing but I was already plenty wet. It was like I couldn’t masturbate fast enough, strumming and fucking myself in a frenzy of lustful relief.

I started to moan into her pelvis while I lapped at her, and she replied to each one with her own girlish “Ah! Ah! Ah!” It was so hot and so cute, and our combined sounds nearly concealed the slick noises coming from under the table.

With my hand on her tummy I could feel the twitches and shudders my pleasuring tongue was giving her. So when she started to tense up, her back arching, I knew she was close to climax. I drew the flat of my tongue firmly over her yielding quim, probing with the tip until I uncovered the firm hot bead of her little clit. I began to flick it, and she immediately stiffened and her sighs pitched up into piping little cries, unspeakably excited.

I sped up, breathing hard, licking passionately, while down below I was pounding my sloppy pussy, three fingers plunging deep while my palm slapped wetly against my own swollen love button.

Bianca’s legs tightened and her body curled up around my massaging hand as she came into my mouth. I glanced up and saw her pink face scrunched up in an agony of joy. I felt every shiver and spasm in my daughter’s pussy on my tongue. Maybe it was because I was so close, but this time her girl-gasm seemed bigger, more physical. I entertained the thought that it was her Momma’s tongue that had made her cum harder.

That thought made me dizzy, Bianca’s satisfaction left me to concentrate on my own. All I really needed to do was to look at my daughter’s face in the throes of her delicious orgasm, to feel the sensations of my own fevered masturbation, and then imagine what we felt was the same, the same. My own orgasm rushed up and overwhelmed my cunt, my body, all of me, powerfully and with almost no warning.

“Oh honey! Oh honey, oh fuck,” I gasped, found myself panting onto her smooth, sopping, quivering crotch, “uuuuhhn, it’s so good, so nnn! So, so good honey, Momma has the feelings just like her naughty little girl, our pretty pussies, fuck, so naughty honey, so pretty…”

The words just gushed out of me during my climax, uncontrollable, the same way my vaginal fluid squirted against my palm. As those deep, perfect jolts of ecstasy trailed off, so did my babbling.

Through my messy hair, I saw Bianca looking down at my face with the most angelic little smile on her face. In her innocent expression was her contentment, her gratitude for my touch, her amusement at my fervent self-pleasure, and her happiness that I’d found the peak of my own delight.

You might say she was too young to have such a complex response. I’d tell you that our similar nature, and what we’d just shared, left us with a special bond. I know what I saw, and what’s happened since makes me certain that I was right.

I smiled back at her, only mine was an open-mouthed, goofy smile of delirious abandon. The sexual perversion I’d craved all these years, I’d just satisfied with my three year old daughter. And I’d done it because she wanted me to, practically demanded it. It was my most forbidden fantasy coming true right in my own apartment. Our eye contact went on and on, feeding the affection we felt.

Then, out of pure thankfulness, I held her gaze as I lowered my head to her magical little sex and wrapped my lips around her labia in a caressingly tender kiss.

Bianca’s eyes shot open. She squealed, shimmying her hips away from my loving mouth, shivering with sudden screeching giggles, going, “No no no no no no!”

I pulled back a little and chuckled at her supremely ticklish response. Her body settled, but her laughter carried on, more amused now, and as I straightened up and withdrew my dripping hand from between my legs, she started rocking her naked body a little from side to side and happily sing-songing, “Momma Momma Momma…”

I watched her little celebration of our playtime, grinning. I brought my freshly fucked fingers to my nose and lazily sniffed my tangy scent while I reached down with my free hand to stroke Bianca’s supple body. I imagine the scene we made, the nude and ecstatic toddler, and me, standing at the end of the changing table with my pants wrapped around my knees.

That day never left me. It’s on my mind now, even as I shoulder my purse, take Bianca’s coat out of her lap and drape it over my right arm. I’ve got the cart parked near the bulk food canisters against the side wall of the store, near the hallway leading back into the restrooms.

My daughter cranes around to look at that hallway, then back at me with a fresh excitement on her face. She gets it, the naughty scamp.

I crouch down and extend my left arm, “Come on, honey.”

She puts out both her arms and wraps them around my neck, playfully whispering, “Okay, honey.”

I smirk as I lift her from the cart, her boots hooking on the rail until she kicks them free. When she wraps her little legs around my waist, her green tartan dress rides up as she snuggles in. I cup her bare smooth hip in my left hand, her plush little ass resting on my wrist. I feel the heat and wetness of her six-year old puss through the waist of my thin sweater, and I know it’ll leave a spot, but I don’t care anymore.

Maybe it’s just my horniness talking, but it’s clear to me now that what’s happening in this supermarket is just the next step in the incestuous relationship between Bianca and I. There’s something of a pattern to it – I’ll swear there’s some limit to how perverted I’ll let myself become, then Bon-Bon will innocently and adorably express her desire to go past my limit. I’ll waffle for a while, then I’ll imagine how hot it might be, and how beautiful my daughter will look as I pleasure her in a new way, and I’ll be so lust-addled I’ll just give in like the slut that I am.

Continue on to Chapter 5

 

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Happenstance, Chapter 1

  • Posted on September 26, 2016 at 4:50 pm

By No One

Author’s note: This story was re-edited in November 2021. Exact same plot, just (hopefully) prettier sentences. I hope you’ll enjoy this revised version of the first story I ever wrote.

Melina stepped off the school bus and waved to her friends, then made her way home, just a few houses away. It was a warm and sunny day in early summer, with only a few weeks of school left. A nice day for a 12-year-old to play outside, but she had other plans.

“Hey, Mom!” she called out as she stepped into the house and dumped her school bag near the front door.

“Hi, sweetie. How was your day?” her mom replied from where she was sitting at her work computer, as she always did.

“Fine,” Melina gave her usual answer, then went to the fridge to pour herself her customary glass of after-school orange juice.

“Anything special happen today?” her mother prompted as she followed Melina into the kitchen. 

“Nope.”

“Boy, sounds like an eventful day.” A pause, then her mom sighed at the lack of response. “And how was your day, dear mother?” she continued in a fake young girl voice, making Melina giggle. “Oh, it was pretty good, thank you for asking. I completed a few tax return forms for some clients and—”

Melina interrupted her with a loud snoring noise, receiving an annoyed look in return.

“See, Mom, that’s why I don’t ask. ‘Cause then I have to hear about boring accounting stuff,” she explained with a smile.

“Hmph. Fine, I suppose you don’t need to hear all the details.”

“You got it. Well, I’ll be in my room,” Melina said, walking towards the stairs. “Love you, Mom!” she added with a wink over her shoulder. Her mother smiled, her rudeness apparently forgiven. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, remembering something. “Oh yeah, Abbie’s coming over. Tell her to come up, okay?”

“At your service,” her mother replied with a mock bow, making Melina giggle again.

She climbed up the stairs and opened the door to her room, then paused, listening. She could vaguely hear her mother typing on the computer downstairs, apparently back at work. That should keep her busy for a while. Nodding to herself, Melina stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Her eyes immediately went to the laptop on her desk. She smiled to herself, a tingle of excitement spreading through her. Sitting down at the desk, she turned on the computer, started up her web browser, and entered the address of a chat room site she sometimes used. Usually, it was for some innocent conversations in rooms about some of her interests, but the week before, she had found a very naughty room. One that any decent 12-year-old should certainly avoid, even though it was meant for young girls, in a way… as well as adults who “liked” young girls.

She had been shocked to see it in the list of rooms, at first. You hear about perverts on the Internet all the time, but really, was it this easy to find a chat room about this stuff? She’d started scrolling down the list to look for something else, but then hesitated. Her mouse pointer hovering over the room name, she had to wonder what went on in there, and felt a certain dangerous thrill as she thought about going in. It would be so very bad to do so, but… also a little exciting, she had to admit. Besides, it was just text, they couldn’t do anything to her, and she could leave any time she wanted. And so, shrugging to herself, she’d entered the room.

Quickly, she’d received a few messages, and struck up a few conversations. Most started out fairly normally: “hi, how are you?”, the ubiquitous “ASL”, often questions about what she looked like and what she was wearing. Some of the guys remained nice and polite, asking a bit about her hobbies and her studies and the like. Some others got more explicit or asked very private questions, making her blush. A few were, well, just gross, and she quickly cut those conversations short. Overall though, she had to admit she’d found her time in the chat room intriguing, and she’d even gone back a couple times since.

It was very wrong, of course, but also quite thrilling. She had no illusion that these were actually nice people—and she did have to use the ignore function often—but still, regardless of the context, it was exciting to be complimented, to be desired, even. She certainly didn’t get that kind of attention—or any kind, really—from the boys at her school, who had eyes only for the more developed girls. That older boys and men were interested in her, though still rather creepy, also gave her all kinds of warm feelings, especially since she could remain completely safe and anonymous.

And so, she’d chatted with these guys when they remained polite, sometimes even flirting or talking about sex a little, though it made her face grow hot. Sometimes, she received “interesting” pictures that made her blush even more. A few times, she’d even hesitantly sent photos of herself—though just regular, full-clothed pictures, of course—to some of the guys who were the nicest, and had received glowing compliments in return. As a preteen still very uncomfortable with her changing body, she found that praise and attention irresistible.

Now, here she was, about to enter the naughty room again. She’d pondered for a bit what name to use today—she liked to switch it up—and just as she decided, she suddenly heard her bedroom door opening. Her heart nearly stopped as she slammed the laptop shut, and whirled towards the door.

Her friend Abbie was in the doorway, raising an eyebrow.

Melina let out a huge sigh of relief. “Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Wow. Nervous much?” Abbie said, laughing.

“How come you got here so quick?” Melina asked, still trying to recover a normal heart rate.

“My dad was coming this way so he gave me a lift. You didn’t even change yet?”

Melina looked down at herself and realized she was still wearing the blouse and skirt of her school uniform. Her friend had changed into denim shorts and a t-shirt.

“Oops, guess I forgot.”

“Hmm…” Abbie tilted her head to one side, her blonde curls tumbling over her shoulder. She peered at Melina suspiciously. “Didn’t think of changing, nearly jumped out of your skin when I came in… What were you up to in here?”

Melina grinned sheepishly. “Um, is my mom still busy downstairs?”

“Yeah, I guess. She’s at her computer. And now I’m even more curious. Are you getting in trouble, Miss Thompson?” Abbie teased.

“I believe I am, Miss Miller,” Melina replied with a mischievous smile. She opened the laptop again and let her friend take a look.

Abbie peered blankly at the screen for a moment, unsure of what she was looking at. “Oh. Is that the pervy chat room you told me about?” she asked dubiously.

“Yep!” Melina replied.

“I still don’t get what’s so great about a chat full of creeps. That’s really freaky, no?”

“They’re not so bad. Well, some aren’t, anyway,” Melina amended. “I don’t know, it’s just… kind of a thrill, you know? And… well, call me vain, but I kinda like getting told I’m hot,” she added, giggling.

“I can tell you you’re hot, if that’s what you need,” Abbie offered.

Melina laughed. “That’s not the same! And anyway, sometimes I receive, um… pictures, too.”

Abbie raised an eyebrow. “Really? Like, dirty ones?”

Melina nodded shyly. “Sometimes.”

“Wow. Dunno if I want to see that…” Abbie said uncertainly.

“It’s fun, you’ll see. Pull up a chair,” Melina encouraged her.

Abbie did just that and sat next to her friend, looking at the laptop screen. She pointed at the username Melina had chosen. “Sabrina12?”

“I don’t know, it sounded sexy, I guess.” Melina shrugged.

“Hmm, I think ‘Melina’ sounds sexier,” Abbie said, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

Melina laughed. “Thanks, but I’m not giving them my real name.”

“Smart.” Abbie nodded.

“So, what name do you want?”

“Oh, I need a name too?” Abbie frowned and thought about it for a moment. “Hmm… how about… Scarlett?”

“Good choice.” Melina chuckled and changed the username to “SabrinaNScarlett12.”

Abbie was looking at the list of people in the channel. “So, what, all those female names are girls our age?”

“Depends. Some are, I guess, some older teens. Some adult women.”

“Women, really?” Abbie asked.

“Or they claim to be, anyway. You can never really tell.” Melina shrugged. “One talked to me the other day.”

“Oh yeah? Did she send you dirty pictures?” Abbie grinned.

“No, not that one.” Melina laughed. “Why?”

“Oh, just curious. Kinda surprised there are women in there, I guess.”

“Hey, women can be perverts, too,” Melina said and they both laughed.

They had already received a few private messages. Melina clicked on the one from “Bob,” who simply said hi.

“ ’Bob’, really? He didn’t think too long about his sexy name,” Abbie commented, making Melina snort with laughter.

Hi, she typed back.

Asl plz, came the typical reply from Bob, making Melina roll her eyes. This did get tedious sometimes.

“The age is in my name, genius,” she said out loud, and it was Abbie’s turn to laugh.

Melina started typing “12f” then turned to her friend. “Where are we from?”

“Hmm, let’s go with… Italy,” Abbie decided.

“Italy it is,” Melina agreed, and sent out the reply.

Cool got a pic? Here is mine, was the next message from Bob, which also included a link.

“Um, let’s see,” Melina said, clicking on the link. She immediately regretted it once the picture loaded.

Bob was apparently a fat, ugly old man past 50, if not 60. He was very nude in the picture, holding his penis in one hand and looking rather proud of that fact.

“Gah!” Melina exclaimed, struggling with the laptop’s touchpad to close the window as fast as she could.

“Gah!” Abbie agreed, covering her face with one hand. “Holy crap, my eyes. Quick, I need eye bleach.”

Melina couldn’t help but laugh, despite the recent trauma. “Wow, uh, that was something. Sorry about that.”

Her friend frowned at her. “Girl, if that’s the kinda pic you find interesting, you have serious issues.”

Melina laughed even harder. “No, no,” she managed to say after a moment, “it’s usually not like that. Not that they’re all great-looking but… ugh, not like that.”

Abbie still looked at her distrustfully.

“Okay here,” Melina pointed at another message. “Erik21, that sounds better.”

“Unless the 21 is for 1921,” Abbie pointed out, making Melina start laughing once again.

Hey ladies, the message said.

Melina typed back a greeting, then there were a few polite exchanges of how-are-you’s and the like. Erik then also offered them a picture of himself.

“Wow, everyone wants me to take a look at them today,” Melina noted.

“I’m not looking at this one,” Abbie said, covering her eyes once more.

“I’ll tell you if it’s safe,” Melina promised, giggling, before hesitantly clicking on the link.

Erik did seem to be in his early 20’s. And he was fully clothed, in a black t-shirt and jeans. He was actually very cute, Melina thought.

“Mm. Oh yeah, that’s much better,” she announced.

Abbie took a skeptical look between her fingers, then seemed to decide it was safe enough to uncover her eyes completely.

“I guess. I mean, it would be very hard not to be,” was the sum of Abbie’s approval.

“You don’t think he’s cute?”

Abbie gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Well, I think he’s really cute,” Melina said and, to emphasize her point, sent out a message saying cute!

Glad you think so. Wanna chat on cam maybe? It would be more fun, Erik replied with a winking emoji and another link to what could be assumed was a site for chatting on webcam.

Melina hesitated, glancing at Abbie questioningly.

“Uh, I don’t know about this. Is that safe?” Abbie said, sounding a bit worried.

“Well, I mean, he can’t come through the screen,” Melina replied with a laugh, “and we can just leave at any time. Should be okay.”

Her friend shrugged, looking somewhat uncomfortable but leaving it up to her. Melina decided to give it a shot, and clicked the link.

The page loaded and Erik appeared on screen, wearing somewhat less clothes than on his picture. He was sitting shirtless in his computer chair, a smile on his handsome face. Melina’s eyes roamed over his athletic upper body and she felt warmth rise to her cheeks. She swallowed hard.

“Um, hi,” she said shyly.

“Hey there,” he replied. “Wow, you girls are just gorgeous. Blonde and brunette, I like it.”

Melina was sure she was blushing even brighter. She glanced sideways at Abbie, who looked rather embarrassed as well. “Um, thanks. You’re… not bad yourself,” she said with a nervous giggle.

They went through some small talk, though Melina had trouble focusing on what the attractive shirtless man was saying instead of ogling him. She had to concentrate to remember the fake names they had chosen when came the time to introduce themselves. Erik seemed to be fully aware of her interest, maintaining a sly smile throughout the exchange, which Melina also found rather attractive.

“So, you like the view?” he asked after a moment, nodding down at himself.

Just as the heat on her cheeks was beginning to fade a little, her blush came back in full force. She could only nod sheepishly.

His smile broadened. “Maybe you could also give me something nice to look at, huh? Seems only fair.”

“Oh, um…” Melina hesitated, this sounded like more than she’d bargained for. “Like what?”

“Well, let me think…” Erik made a show of pondering the question. “Say, do you girls ever… fool around? You know, practice kissing, that sort of thing? Maybe more?”

“What? No…” Melina shook her head, laughing nervously, unsure where this was going.

“Oh, really? A lot of girls do it, I think. It’s a lot of fun,” he said with a wink. “You should try kissing at least, I bet you’d love it.”

Melina blinked at him. Was he asking what she thought he was?

“You mean, like, right now?” she asked uncertainly.

“Sure, why not?” he replied, grinning at her.

Things had definitely taken a turn for the unexpected. Melina had never imagined he would ask for anything like that. Kissing Abbie? Could she do that? The thought of “fooling around” in any way with her best friend had never crossed her mind before. Still, she supposed that a quick kiss wouldn’t hurt. Maybe Erik was right that it was only fair, since she had been ogling him quite a bit. She had to admit, now that the thought was in her head, that she was a little curious about how a kiss would feel.

She glanced questioningly at Abbie, and saw her friend returning the same look, then both of them had a fit of giggles at the idea.

“Um…” Abbie began, but then just trailed off, apparently having no idea how to formulate her thoughts. She didn’t look too opposed to the idea, though, which surprised Melina, as Abbie had been reluctant to get on cam at all.

Melina was beginning to feel that naughty thrill again, just like when she decided to go into the pervy chat room, the excitement of doing something she wasn’t supposed to do. Why not? she thought. She suddenly leaned in and gave Abbie a quick peck on the lips. The girls looked at each other for half a second then once again dissolved into giggles.

Erik was less amused. “Aw, not like that. That’s a kid kiss, ladies. Try a grown-up kiss. You know how it is, you’ve seen movies.”

Melina did know what he meant. It was true that the quick peck wasn’t much of a kiss, she supposed. She had even kissed her mother like that sometimes when she was younger, so it did seem a bit childish. A long adult kiss, what would that feel like? Still, maybe that was crossing a line. She turned to her friend again, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Abbie smiled a bit awkwardly and shrugged, simply looking back at Melina and waiting. It seemed she was leaving the decision to her.

Melina figured that since they’d already taken the first step, they might as well try this kissing business all the way through. She leaned in again, more hesitantly this time. Their eyes met and there was a brief struggle to avoid bursting out laughing again. Once they managed to keep their composure, Melina resumed closing the distance to her friend’s lips and Abbie met her halfway there. Their lips brushed softly against each other. Melina could feel her heart beating loudly in her ears. She saw the other girl close her eyes and did the same, remembering that’s what they always did in movies.Their lips pressed together more firmly.

Her lips are so soft, Melina thought, then immediately wondered if that was a weird thing to think. Her stomach felt like it was full of butterflies, her mind was a stormy sea of conflicting, confusing thoughts. The kiss went on for a few seconds, then broke; she wasn’t sure which one of them had pulled back. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw Abbie, still very close, smiling shyly at her, and she felt herself blush once again.

“Much better,” Erik’s voice interrupted the moment. She’d nearly forgotten about him. “Now, how about putting some tongue into it?”

Melina’s head whipped towards the computer screen. “Tongue?”

“Sure. You know what a French kiss is, right?”

“Well…” She did know, but… Turning back to Abbie, she found the girl’s face was still very close to her own, a spark of something she didn’t quite recognize in her eyes. Abbie took the lead without waiting, this time, pressing her lips to Melina’s, who found herself kissing her friend back without thinking.

After a moment, Melina felt Abbie’s tongue hesitantly poking at her lips. Are we really doing this? she thought, but her mouth seemed to open wider of its own accord. Her friend’s tongue slipped in and began dancing with hers playfully. The sensation was electric. The wings of those butterflies in her stomach were creating a hurricane. Her mind had gone blank, all of her attention focused on their intertwined tongues.

“Oh yeah, that’s hot,” came the disembodied voice from the computer—rather spoiling the moment, Melina thought. Abbie broke the kiss and straightened, glaring at the webcam, apparently feeling the same.

Erik didn’t seem to notice. “Now, how about, uh, showing some skin? You’re both really cute… I’d love to see more of you.”

Melina was not surprised by the request, this time—of course that would be what he’d ask for next. Feeling cheeky, she lifted up her blouse for a brief instant, just showing a flash of her flat tummy. That was technically skin, right?

He gave her a skeptical look. “You can do better than that. Why don’t you unbutton that blouse?”

“Mel…” Abbie said in a worried tone.

Glancing sideways, Melina saw that her friend was wide-eyed and shaking her head emphatically. Abbie was right, this had gone on long enough. “Hmm… no. Sorry!” Melina said as she reached for the trackpad to move the mouse cursor.

“Hey, hold on—” Erik began but he was cut off as she closed the chat window.

Melina let out a deep breath. “Wow. That kinda got out of hand.”

“I’ll say!” Abbie was still staring at her. “You weren’t really thinking about… stripping for him, were you?”

Melina shook her head. “Nah. That was going too far…”

They were silent for a moment. Thinking back to what she’d been doing with her friend just moments ago, warmth rose to Melina’s cheeks once again.

“Um… sorry you had to kiss me,” she said sheepishly.

Abbie giggled. “That’s okay. That part wasn’t so bad…”

“Yeah, I guess it felt sorta nice…” she admitted.

“Really? You liked it?”

Melina shrugged awkwardly, embarrassed. She didn’t really know how to feel about the kiss. Trying to change the subject, she said: “At least we got to see his… you-know-what.” She grinned at her friend, but Abbie didn’t seem too enthusiastic about it.

“Hmm, I guess… That was, um…” she hesitated.

“What is it?” Melina asked.

Abbie looked at her uncertainly for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. “I don’t, um… I don’t think I like boys, that way.”

“Oh…” Melina said, then after a second grasped her full meaning. “Oh! You mean…?”

Abbie nodded shyly, avoiding Melina’s gaze.

“Oh, wow. So, I just made out with a lesbian, huh?” Melina said, trying to wrap her mind around the situation.

Abbie took on a pained expression. “I… I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to trick you or anything.”

“No, no, it’s okay… I mean, I kinda dragged you into this whole thing.” Melina put her hand on her friend’s shoulder to reassure her, and Abbie gave her a grateful smile.

They fell silent again, each of them lost in her own thoughts. My best friend is a lesbian, Melina thought. She wasn’t sure how she felt about it, and she was now even more confused about the kiss that she’d rather enjoyed. Thinking back, she realized Abbie never really talked about boys she liked; maybe she should have suspected something. Remembering a recent lunchtime conversation, she suddenly burst out laughing.

Abbie blinked at her. “What?” she asked warily.

“Just remembering, yesterday, when Alicia was telling you all about the boys she likes, you looked so bored. I guess I know why now.”

“Oh, yeah.” Abbie laughed with her and rolled her eyes. “The girl does go on and on about boys. You know she was at it for like fifteen minutes before you got there? I can’t say that’s really my favorite topic.”

“Yeah… you should have told us,” Melina said, more seriously.

“Um… maybe.” Abbie shrugged. “It’s just… I don’t know… awkward?”

“Doesn’t have to be. You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Abbie nodded, and they exchanged a smile.

Melina closed the laptop’s lid, and got up to stretch her legs a little. A thought came to her.

“So…” she began uncertainly, “earlier, when you said I was hot… you were serious?”

Abbie grinned sheepishly and shrugged. “Well… you are.”

Melina giggled. “Thanks, I guess.” It should have felt weird, her best friend telling her she was hot, but it didn’t, really. She found she genuinely enjoyed the compliment. “Why didn’t you want me to strip, then?” she added with a wink.

Her friend frowned. “Well, not in front of that creep.” She nodded towards the laptop. “That’s messed up.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Melina said teasingly, “you just wanted a private show, huh?” Feeling playful, she popped the bottom button of her blouse, showing a bit of her belly.

Abbie suddenly stood up straighter, her eyes wide, staring at the bit of exposed flesh. Melina giggled at her reaction. She had not really intended to continue, but watching the effect she had on her friend was pretty amusing so she decided she might tease a little bit more. She wanted to change out of her blouse, anyway. She popped another button and began swaying her hips to an unheard rhythm. Abbie’s mouth opened in silent surprise, her eyes glued to the motion of Melina’s body.

Grinning to herself, Melina undid another button. She could hear the other girl getting a little short of breath, and laughed. “You’re being silly, you’ve seen me undress lots of times in the locker room.”

“Well, yeah, but… not like this.” Abbie swallowed hard.

“I guess not.” Melina winked, continuing her little dance. She really wasn’t sure where she was going with this, but she felt very sexy and had to admit she was enjoying it. Another button popped, exposing her white bra. “Wait, have you been checking me out in the locker room?” she asked as the thought came to her.

Color rose to Abbie’s cheeks, but she didn’t look away—maybe she couldn’t make herself look away. “Well, maybe a little,” she admitted.

So my best friend has been checking me out, huh? Melina thought. One more thing she wasn’t too sure how to feel about. It should have been uncomfortable, maybe, but she’d already recognized that she liked being desired. Even if it was her friend, that was rather less creepy than strangers on the Internet, she supposed.

Undoing the last button on her blouse, she turned her back to Abbie, and let the garment slide down her arms a little, as she imagined a stripper might. She’d never seen a real strip show, of course, but she had seen a few music videos that came pretty close. She tried to take off the blouse completely in one smooth motion as she turned back to her friend. The effect was perhaps not quite as sexy as she had planned when the piece of clothing caught on one arm and she had to shake it off. Still, not bad for a first timer, she thought. Abbie certainly didn’t seem to mind.

Now that it was done, Melina grew a bit uncomfortable, standing there shirtless. She thought that was probably as far as she wanted to take things, and now wasn’t quite sure what to do. Abbie was still staring at her expectantly, seemingly enraptured. Deciding to snap her out of it, Melina threw her blouse at her friend’s face, making Abbie laugh in surprise.

“Welp, show’s over,” Melina declared as she walked to her wardrobe and opened it.

“Aw, you’re stopping now?” Abbie protested, pulling the garment off her head.

“You looked like you were getting a bit too excited.”

“Tease!” They both giggled.

“And anyway, it’s not really fair if I’m the only one taking off my clothes,” Melinda added absentmindedly as she looked through the shirts in the wardrobe.

“What, now you’re interested?” Abbie asked, getting up and raising an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, um, I… I mean…” Melina stammered. Was she interested? She didn’t know anymore. This afternoon had been a roller coaster of thrills and confusion. “I just meant, it’s kinda awkward being the only one shirtless I guess.”

Abbie studied her for a moment. “Okay then,” she said finally, and started slowly pulling her shirt up, caressing her skin as she uncovered it.

“Oh,” Melina said simply, eyes open wide. She slowly sat down on her bed, watching her friend. She had to admit Abbie was putting on a sexy show, uncovering and covering skin, swaying and spinning, hands roaming over her body. The girl hesitated a little when it came time to pull the t-shirt over her bra, and Melina wondered if she would dare to go as far as she had herself. The reason for the reluctance became clear when, deciding herself, Abbie pulled the shirt off completely in one swift motion, revealing her small but perky breasts.

“Oh,” Melina said again.

Abbie shrugged shyly. “I took off my bra when I changed earlier. It’s kind of annoying and it’s not like I really need one yet, anyway,” she said, briefly cupping one small breast in her hand to illustrate her point. Melina couldn’t help but notice her friend’s nipples seemed very stiff.

Grinning, Abbie bundled up her top and threw it at Melina’s head, getting her revenge for earlier. After removing the shirt from her face, Melina found that her friend had crossed the distance to her bed, and now sat down close to her. Very close.

“So. Did you really like kissing me earlier?” Abbie asked, now serious. Her tone betrayed both excitement and a little bit of fear.

Melina opened her mouth to reply, realized she had no idea what she wanted to say, closed it again. She had liked the kiss, if she was being completely honest with herself. But of course, she knew that wasn’t what Abbie was really asking, though, but rather if she wanted to do it again. 

The thought raised so many questions at once in her mind: Was she ready for this kind of thing? Would it lead to… other things? Did she want that? Why did Abbie sitting so close, half-naked, made her feel so funny in her stomach? Was she attracted to her best friend? Did that mean she was a lesbian, too? What would it mean for their friendship if they started fooling around?

Her brain felt trapped in a maelstrom of confusing thoughts. She needed to find the calm in the eye of that storm. Closing her eyes for a moment, she pushed all those thoughts away. Focusing instead solely on her gut reaction to the thought of kissing Abbie, she was a little surprised to find only excitement, maybe even… desire? Mentally shrugging away the doubts, she decided to stop worrying and just go along with whatever felt right. There would be time to sort it all out later.

Opening her eyes again, she saw Abbie looking a bit worried at her hesitation. She gave her a shy but reassuring smile.

“Y-yeah, I did,” she finally replied, timidly.

A big smile instantly spread on Abbie’s lips, and excitement shone in her eyes. “Good,” she said simply before pressing her lips to Melina’s, who found herself kissing her friend back with some passion. After a moment, Abbie’s tongue slipped out and Melina welcomed it into her mouth, letting her own tongue tangle with it to resume the dance that was interrupted earlier.

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

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Honey Loves – Confessions of an Incestuous Mother, Chapter 3

  • Posted on September 24, 2016 at 4:52 pm

By eloquent delinquent

Maybe the vow wasn’t the best idea. Maybe I should’ve known myself better. Maybe I shouldn’t have nursed Bianca on my lap while I lazily stroked off watching porn, but I got such intense orgasms doing it. Maybe I should’ve noticed how long I spent wiping and oiling her chubby vagina and pink anus after I’d given my baby her bath. Maybe leaning in to sniff her tiny clean privates should’ve given me pause. Maybe I thought I had it under control, she was my own daughter, so what could really happen?

Things like this didn’t get serious for me until Bianca was finishing potty training, so she must’ve been about three and a half. Like most toddlers, learning to use the toilet really heightened her awareness of her body. And like me, that awareness led her to discover the good feelings she could get by touching her soft little puss. She took to it unabashedly, and I can’t count the number of times I opened a door or turned a corner to find my baby girl fully dressed with her trainers pushed down past her knees, happily petting between her plump legs. Sometimes she squirmed and gurgled on her back, and others I’d discover her standing there, hips rocking into her little hand as she did it, one finger in her mouth, eyes distant, sighing.

Confronted with her innocently sexual behavior, I spun into a terrible confusion. I agonized, agonized, over what to do about it. Should I stop her? But if I did, would she turn out like I did, clandestinely curious, obsessed with nudity and privates? Should I let her go on? But if I did that, where would it end? Would it at all? Did any other mothers ever let that happen? What would people say? What would someone else think, or do, if they caught her at it?

By not deciding, I tacitly left her to keep touching. I avoided her during her sessions, refusing to confront or even acknowledge her behavior, quickly exiting when I barged in on her playing with herself down there. At least that’s what I told myself, deliberately editing out all the times I lingered in doorways or watched quietly from a distance, until I roused myself and moved on.

And though I barely admitted it, seeing Bianca pleasuring herself made me terribly excited, reminding me of my past joys. Little girls undressing for me and letting me look, those happy bath times when I babysat, the lasciviously playful Halliday twins, all of it coming together in my mind.

As my daughter became more active, I got more secretive, and took to furtively masturbating in the bathroom or bedroom like a stereotypical teen, guiltily and frequently. After my enormous, clenching orgasms, I’d conveniently forget what I’d been fantasizing about.

Part of what had happened was that her potty training was almost done, trainers only needed for the occasional mishap. I suppose she could’ve changed herself, but I still took care of it for her, and I imagine there was another red flag in that, too. That secret place between her legs stopped being associated with a messy chore for me, and instead I came to see it as enthralling, the center for her simple, bodily joy.

And it was during one of these unnecessary changing sessions that all of it came to a head. Looking back, I don’t know how else I thought it’d end up.

It was a spring day, and I’d seen her just moments before lying in the sunny spot cast by the window onto the carpet, dress pulled up and trainers pushed down, pale body exposed from nipples to knees, eagerly diddling her sweet spot. She faced into the light, eyes closed with a little, kitten-like smile on her lips. I called Bianca into her room, and when she came in she pulled her jumper dress off over her head, and wearing only her training pants she playfully jumped up on a changing table that was getting a little bit small for her, opening her legs wide.

I followed the same routine as always, except now when her trainers came off she was completely nude. I tried to ignore my thumping heart, suppressed what I’d seen happening on that sunny floor. She was clean, as she almost always was any more, except that her dainty pussy was a blushing, vivid pink and seemed a little damp. I used the wipes I always used, and spent a lot of time tenderly, luxuriously tracing her smooth intimate parts with them. Bianca squirmed and cooed excitedly, but I was in a kind of trance, the kind of trance I should’ve recognized.

With a strange kind of panicked keenness, I watched my infant daughter’s hand steal down, cover her little crease, and begin to rub it. My own fingers were just below hers, still wiping her tiny, thoroughly cleansed anal pucker, and I thoughtlessly matched my movements between her butt cheeks to the rhythm she used as she pet herself. I couldn’t look away from the way our hands moved in tandem, pleasing her delighted privates.

Bianca stretched and gave a high pitched sigh, the same as she did sometimes when she woke from a nap, and I glanced up her naked little body to her face. She was looking at me, and our eyes locked, hers studying me seriously. And I knew this was the moment, I couldn’t avoid this behavior any more, she was doing it right in front of me and awaiting my judgment. I saw her face, the high bright blush of her cheeks, the way her eyebrows knitted and arched as new sensations shimmered up her body, and her mouth, open in a slight smile, tip of her glistening little tongue resting on her lower lip. I saw beauty, I saw arousal, but more than anything, I saw joy.

My joyful Bianca, experiencing a pleasure like love, like the love I felt for her.

I found myself nodding, and smiling, and saying, “Honey, honey, that’s so pretty. You’re such a pretty girl. Does it feel good, honey? Does it feel good to touch like that?”

She moaned a little girl moan and nodded her head, her smile widening.

“You can give yourself touches, honey. Momma says it’s okay. If it feels good, honey, Momma says touching it is okay. Ooo, honey, that’s it, so pretty, you have the good touches.”

With my attention, my approval, I saw her excitement grow. And now that I’d admitted I liked what she was doing, my acceptance of it, I noticed what was happening to my own body, watching her. My breasts were terribly sensitive, nipples poking through my knit tank top and scratching against the fabric enticingly. Inside my yoga pants my pussy was swollen and juicy, my clit seeming to almost sparkle in its arousal. My cheeks were hot, I was horny as fuck.

I felt sexual desire for my own three year old daughter. That final admission frightened me, delighted me, confused me. At last, I was being honest with myself, and it was kind of overwhelming. Any thoughts I had were swamped by the need to feel, to touch.

Letting the baby wipe drop to the table, I slid my fingers from her tiny asshole up over her little slit, brushing her own hand back. She whined a little, looking at me questioningly as I babbled, “You want me to help you, honey? You want me to make you feel good? Should I touch you honey?”

Then I settled my hand onto her hot, slippery, exquisite girlish pussy, and I let out a heartfelt sigh of relief. Bianca’s eyes widened in surprise, but as I nestled one finger into her almost impossibly small, soft, tender folds, her eyes went unfocused in sheer pleasure. It was the first time someone else had touched her, and I knew how powerful that feeling was. Probing gently, I sensed the firm little bead of her tiny clit, and began to mimic her motion from my new, more provocative position in her crease.

Her legs twitched. Her head dropped back onto the table. She gurgled and breathed out, “Momma, mmm Momma…”

As I gently masturbated my little girl, my free hand thrust down the waistband of my yoga pants, twisted its way through my panties, and suddenly ecstasy surged outward from my own overexcited cunt, two fingers curled deep inside me while the pad of my thumb wiggled firmly on my clit. My own eyelids drooped, but I couldn’t stop looking at Bianca’s reaction to my touch.

“Ohh honey yes, the touches are so good, so pretty honey ahhh let me touch it, let me rub it honey let me rub you, such a good girl honey such a good good girl…”

I could sense my orgasm building almost immediately, but the sensations got stronger and stronger without breaking, and I realized it was because somehow my body was waiting for Bianca.

Her back arched, her whole body tensing. Her legs shivered. I trembled on the very edge, too, my breath caught, pressing but not moving my fingers in my blazing pussy.

I’ve read that children can’t cum, but with what I’ve seen in my life I’ll never believe that. Bianca had an orgasm, a little girl-gasm, on that changing table. Her body thrust and quivered, her eyes squeezed shut while her little mouth opened wide, her toes curled. I felt the gentle contractions of her pussy on my fingertip. It may not have been as intense as what happens to adults, but as it released her, I could tell what my daughter experienced was nothing short of heavenly.

Her little girl cum unleashed my all-grown-up one, and I clamped my thighs around my hand as I jerked and shuddered deeply, that sugar sweet storm billowing up through my belly and bursting in the top of my head. My ass flexed, humping my fingers. I kind of tipped over and pressed my cheek against Bianca’s fleshy leg as this intense joy coursed through me, eyes rolled up, lids fluttering.

“Uh! Yes, honey yes, oh honey, Hnn! Oh fuck, ohh yeah oh yeah honey feel it, the good pretty feelings, mmm fuck such a pretty girl, Momma loves you, ohhhh Momma loves you honey…”

My little girl and I shared an orgasm together. It was the most staggering, unexpected thing I’d ever felt. She had the cutest look on her face, cross-eyed and blissed. I glanced down at her bare tiny honeypot, pink and wet, the source of what had happened bewteen us, and I did what came most naturally to me.

I bent slightly and kissed her pussy.

She reacted with shrieking giggles, as if I’d tickled her. She must’ve been very sensitive there. The laughter quickly trailed off into panting, and she lifted her head and focused on me. Her gaze was intense and a little inscrutable, but in my horny state of mind I chose to think she was seeing me as a sexual being for the first time. I couldn’t help myself, I licked my lips and tasted the light tanginess of my daughter. Then I brought my sticky hand up out of my pants and up to my mouth, felt the grin on my lips, and smelled the wetness from my own cunt. Similar. I slid them quickly into my mouth and sucked them clean.

Bianca’s watchful gaze on me didn’t change. My emotions cooling, I felt a pang.

Quickly, reality set in. I still needed to change her and get her dressed, and those mundane acts got me thinking like a mother rather than a frustrated sex maniac. What had I done? What was I thinking?! It would’ve been bad enough just condoning her masturbation, letting her play with herself right in front of me. What mother allows that?! But no, I’d gone even further.

Once again, my horniness and poor impulse control had led the way, but this time it was incest. Incest! And not like the Halliday girls, all innocent and playful. I was old enough to know better. I was Bianca’s mother, responsible for protecting her, and I’d just sexually fondled her, and then masturbated myself like I was a 14 year old babysitter again. Oh god, incest with your sexually curious infant daughter sounded so terrible (but secretly still a little hot), and I felt like a monster.

The rest of that day, I was in a tumult. Bon-Bon wanted lots of cuddles, which she got because between my maternal instinct and my sexual release, I physically could not refuse. I needed to hold her soft warm little body as much as she wanted to be held. But even as I stroked her back and kissed her hair, I couldn’t help wonder if her need for closeness and comfort was a symptom of some trauma I’d inflicted, if our dirty moment would mar her idea of me.

The changing table couldn’t be avoided, but I put it off for so long that night that she was half-asleep when I finally did it, yawning hugely with her hand cupping her mouth. I was nervously efficient, not doing more than a clinical job of it. As I gave her the most routine wiping, my eyes lingered on her naked groin and my pussy fluttered against my will. There was sweat on my upper lip.

When it was done she toddled to her bed, and I watched her go, wondering, how long could I keep doing this and acting like I didn’t feel anything?

Back then, I never could have guessed that that anxious day would lead to this one. I would’ve recoiled from it in horrified fascination. My imagination simply couldn’t handle the thought of me like this, turning my cart down the quiet kitchen gadgets aisle, my hand hidden, one fingertip snug inside the slick heat of my daughter’s happy quim, her blushing face transported with an urgent, climbing pleasure. But as I drift to a stop, knowing I’m about to bring my little girl to orgasm in public for the first time, I’m grateful to whatever path led me here.

Bianca senses the cart’s stopped, and her eyelids lift drowsily as she struggles to focus on me. But down below, her hips don’t pause in the slightest, maintaining their primal rhythm, gently rocking down onto the hand that’s bringing her so much delight.

I speed up the stroking of my fingertip until I’m rubbing her tender flesh almost frantically. She responds, stiffening, gripping the rail of the cart tightly. Bianca takes deep, gasping breaths as she tries to keep quiet, tries to adjust to the intense sexual feelings I’m giving her. With her head bent forward, my six year old daughter looks up at me from under her bangs, eyes practically begging, her mouth open and panting.

“Yeah, mmm, mmm! Hnh Momma ah,” she whispers tightly.

This eye contact sparks something deep inside me, I’m mesmerized by the depth of desire I see in my little girl, her craving for me to stimulate her, to satisfy her. My cunt and asshole both throb steadily, begging for touches of their own. I’m halfway convinced I can smell myself, I’m so soaked between my legs. This is my terrible, joyous secret – I love my baby’s arousal, love that she turns to me with her desires, love that we share her delights, love touching her little, eager body and giving her grown-up pleasures. She turns me on as much as any ever lover ever has.

Carried away by my own erotic thoughts, I apply more pressure to her steamy slit, to the point where I’m almost lifting her up by her quim, sinking into it. Her entire pelvis quivers, her breath catches. Her eyelids blink heavily, then close, while her mouth opens wider, wider, an almost disbelieving look on her face.

Then, with what is unmistakably a sexual cry despite its girlish pitch, my little Bon-Bon cums, thrusting down hard into my hand, legs shooting out straight, shuddering, then the heels of her boots kick against the cart and lock there. She’s got my wrist pinned into the leg divider and I can feel the pulses of her orgasm on my fingertip, feel her twitches and trembles in my palm as I cup the soft hot flesh of her mound.

Her eyes are squeezed tightly shut now, as the overwhelming pleasure erupts in her brain. But the corners of her wide open mouth are rising, the ecstatic smile I always love to see, so proud my little girl gets so much joy from the way her Mom finger-fucks her.

With a breathy giggle she suddenly squirms back from my hand, just as ticklishly sensitive as ever after her intense little cummie. It’s only as she keeps giggling and looks at me, great mischievous happiness on her rosy face, that it occurs to me that I’m still standing on a supermarket aisle, that I just gave my daughter an orgasm right next to the cheese slicers and ice cream scoops. I guiltily glance all around us, but although people pass by the end of the aisle, the coast is still clear.

Giving her one last hidden squeeze down there, I ask, “How was that, Bon-Bon? Is that what you wanted this morning?”

She sighs, nods, “Oh yeah. I need your honey loves sometimes, I just need it.”

I trail my hand down the inside of her leg, withdrawing. “Did you have a good cummie for me?”

She smiles brightly, bounces. “So good! Doing it here, being naughty here, the way you do the honey loves for me, it feels so, oh my gosh so good.”

I grin proudly at her as my hand emerges from under her dress. I lift it to my nose and gently sniff Bianca’s sweetly musky pussy. It creates desires that are even more inappropriate for the public. But that smell, oh fuck that little girl smell, it makes me feel so naughty.

I’m stirred from my thoughts by Bon-Bon saying, “Momma, can I, please?” I glance down at her and see she’s focused on the same thing I am.

“Momma, please?” she repeats softly.

Shrugging, I lower my hand to her face, and she lightly takes mine with both of hers and guides it til my dirty fingertip is just below her nose. Daintily closing her eyes, she inhales, and the scent of her own wet pussy brings a secretive little grin to her lips. She loves the way she smells.

And tastes, I note as she ducks her head down, covers my finger with her lips, and begins to suck. I feel her wet tongue busily licking the pad of my finger while her wide eyes peer left and right, looking for anyone who might interrupt her treat.

Feeling the play of her warm wet mouth on my hand, the thought of the smell and taste of cunt bounding through my mind, sensing the aching need in my panties, I find my body making a decision for me, as it so frequently does.

“Bon-Bon, I think Momma needs private time with you right now.”

Her brown eyes show only curiosity. With a slurp, she removes my finger from her mouth and simply asks, “But how?”

Continue on to Chapter 4

 

Continue reading Honey Loves – Confessions of an Incestuous Mother, Chapter 3 »

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Jane and Nicole

  • Posted on September 22, 2016 at 6:00 pm

By Kathy-Anne Niemann

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

Thomas was half in the bag, and barely made it into the room. “Fuck,” he said.

Jane had just unzipped her black dress, the one she saved for special occasions like tonight. Special occasions like her fifteenth anniversary of being married to Thomas Wallace. Occasions like this when Thomas would have one too many and get really amorous to the point when Jane herself started to anticipate what would happen between them when they got home. Of course, on occasions like this, Tom would have one too many, drive them home sloppy drunk and pass out on the bed, woefully limp, and Jane would have to take care of matters by herself. She didn’t know if Tom knew about her dildo, but she thought he probably wouldn’t like the idea of that too much.

“Fuck what?” Jane said, finishing unzipping her little black dress.

“The babysitter needs a ride home,” Tom slurred.

“But I’m getting ready for bed!” she argued.

“Yeah, and I’m too drunk to drive any more.”

Too drunk to drive a fourteen year old girl home, but not too drunk to drive your wife of fifteen years home.

Jane knew she was stuck. She zipped her dress back up and grabbed her purse. Tom had been playing with himself, lying there on the bed.

“We’ll get down to business when you get back,” he said.

Jane shot him a half-smile. By the time she got back home, he’d be passed out on the bed still in his suit with his dick in his hands, and she’d spend another evening squatting in the bathroom pumping her dildo into herself, thrill of thrills. “I’ll be back soon,” she said, hopefully.

The girl was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, biting her fingernail. Jane had known Nicole since the girl’s family had moved in up the street six months ago. Nicole had babysat for her and Tom several times, and it wasn’t like little Katrina was a handful. Usually asleep by nine, and totally zonked out until morning.

“Sorry,” Nicole said, “My friend Jenny was supposed to pick me up, but she got in trouble at home.”

“No problem,” Jane said, reaching in her purse for her keys. She put on the coat that she wore to dinner that night, still warm, still smelling like cigarette smoke and garlic and the whiskey Tom had accidentally spilled on it.

“You look nice tonight, Mrs. Wallace,” Nicole said.

Jane had to smile. “Thanks, hon,” she answered. She took a quick look at Nicole. The girl was short, five three maybe. Black leather shoes over black and white striped tights. Short skirt, black blouse, too much eye makeup, hair done up in pigtails on the sides of her head. All told, the girl looked pretty nice herself. Jane hadn’t noticed much when Nicole had arrived earlier that evening with rushing to meet their reservations. ”You look pretty nice yourself, Nic,” Jane said.

The girl smiled and cast her eyes on the floor. “That’s cool you called me Nic,” she said. “That’s what my friend Jenny calls me.”

Jane dangled the keys in the air. “Shall we?”

It wasn’t black and white tights the girl was wearing. Jane noticed the moment Nicole sat down in the SUV. They were thigh socks. The hem of the girl’s skirt had hiked up while she reached behind her to buckle her seatbelt. Any higher and Jane would have seen way too far north to be comfortable. Jane started the car and backed out of the driveway.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Nicole asked, making no effort to adjust the hem of her skirt.

“Mm,” Jane said, shrugging. She’d imagined it going a lot differently, but really shouldn’t have been surprised.

“Katrina is a doll.”

“Thanks,” Jane said. “Yeah, she’s pretty sweet.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence, listening to the smooth jazz station they’d been listening to on the ride home. Thomas kissing her hand and saying how much he wanted to stick it in her tonight. Thomas weaving and swerving all over the road. Kenny G on the radio.

They pulled up to Nicole’s house and Jane threw the car into park, but Nicole made no move to get out. There were no lights on in the house, but the car was in the driveway and the porch light was on.

Jane cleared her throat. “Everything okay?” She noticed for the first time that Nicole appeared uncomfortable.

“Everything’s fine,” the girl said.

“Okay, well, I’ll see you around then,” Jane prompted. She wondered if the girl was waiting for her to get out and open the door for her.

“Um,” Nicole started. “Do you want to come inside with me?”

Jane rolled her eyes. Scared teenager. “You want me to walk you to your door?”

“I’d rather you came inside the house with me,” came the answer.

“Why?” Jane asked.

Nicole gave an uncomfortable wince. “Because I’m wearing a pair of your panties.”

At first, Jane wasn’t sure she’d heard right, but then realized that she had. The girl was wearing one of her pairs of panties? As if Nicole could sense the question in the air, she reached down and pulled up the hem of her skirt. Sure enough, there was her pair of horizontally striped multicolored underwear that she’d bought last week at the Victoria’s Secret at the Valley Mall. Three pairs for ten bucks.

“Why are you wearing my panties?” Jane asked, terrified of the answer.

Nicole blushed and lowered her skirt. She picked at her fingernails while she answered. “Truth is,” she started, “I tried on a lot of your lingerie tonight.”

“You what?” Jane asked, now starting to get pissed. She just imagined this little twit going through her underwear drawer. Her bras, panties, the negligee Tom had bought her. Her slips, her hose. An inexcusable invasion of her privacy.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole said. “I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“I hope there was a good reason why you went through my stuff tonight.” Christ. Did the girl find the quarter bag that she and Tom had been slowly working through? The sheet of acid in her Junior year annual that Tom didn‘t even know about?

“Sort of,” Nicole answered. “I kind of have a crush on you.”

“You have a… crush on me.”

“Yeah,” she said, all the time picking at her fingernails.

“I’m married, you know,” Jane said, holding her left hand out, playing with the wedding band with her thumb.

“I know,” Nicole said. “I also know that you and Tom aren’t too close anymore.”

“And how do you know that?” Jane demanded.

“Because I found your dildo too.”

“Jesus!” Jane yelled. “Did you go through all my stuff?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I just got curious. I wanted to know more about you. You’re so beautiful and stylish and… I don’t know.”

Jane sighed. She knew what the girl was going through. Lord knew she’d gone through her own amount of girlhood crushes. Never on any older women, though. Not that the idea was repugnant or disgusting to her, she’d just never thought about it. Actually, the more she thought about it, the idea was kind of flattering.

“Look,” Jane said. “You’re a cute kid. You’re sweet and pretty and I’m very flattered that you’re interested in me. But nothing can happen between us. I mean, I could go to jail, worst case scenario.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Nicole said. “I wouldn’t turn you in. Hell, I started all this.”

“Yeah, and this is as far as it’s going to go.”

“Okay,” Nicole said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Jane couldn’t wait to get home and pour herself a stiff drink, and then poke herself with her stiff dildo, and then pass out next to Tom.

“Would you at least walk me up to the door?” Nicole said.

“Sure,” Jane responded. As long it ends this night quicker, she thought.

They got out of the car, and shut the doors quietly. They strolled up to the house, Jane’s heels clicking a steady and purposeful counter-rhythm to Nicole’s thicker soles. They got to the door and Nicole put her key in the slot. She turned around. “Thanks for the ride,” she said.

“No problem,” Jane said, hand on her forehead, wishing above anything else to get back in the SUV and back home.

Nicole opened the door a crack. “Um,” she started, “do you want your panties back?

Jane weighed the pros and cons. She should just give the girl her panties, maybe give her something to remember her by. But damn it, she really liked them. She liked the way she looked in them. “Yes,” Jane said, quietly.

The girl reached up her skirt and began shimmying the panties off her hips.

“Not out here!” Jane hissed at her. “My god, I could be arrested right where we stand!”

“Sorry,” Nicole whispered. She opened the door and walked inside. Jane followed.

“Please tell me your parents aren’t home,” Jane whispered.

“Oh, they are. But they’re dead to the world about now. My dad could sleep through a tornado and my mom wears earplugs so she won’t have to listen to my dad snoring. Come on upstairs.”

“Look,” Jane said. “Just give me my panties and I’ll go home.”

“Upstairs,” Nicole demanded.

Jane followed the girl up the stairs imagining scenarios from the next ten to twenty years of her life. Arrest, trial, conviction. Maximum security prison, God knows what else. If she could just make this quick.

They reached the door to Nicole’s room and entered. The girl closed the door quietly behind them and turned on the light. Jane was relieved to find a normal teenage girl’s room. Justin Timberlake on the wall, small collection of CDs next to a boom-box. Daybed with flowered comforter, messy dresser with all kinds of makeup implements on top, jewelry box, papers, notes, normal girl stuff. Could have passed for Jane’s own room twenty years ago.

“I’ll be right back,” Nicole said.

“Where are you going?” Jane asked, alarmed.

“I’m going to take off your panties and go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

“Okay. Hurry,” Jane said.

Nicole left the room, and Jane was alone in the girl’s room. She wandered toward the dresser, checking out the various items atop it. At some point, the thought came to her that maybe she should go through Nicole’s drawers. One good turn deserved another, or so she was always taught.

She opened one quietly, and peeked inside. T-shirts mostly, names of bands that Jane had never heard of, and probably would be appalled if she heard them. She closed that drawer and opened another. Socks, tights, hose. Jane allowed herself a smile. Getting closer. She closed that drawer and opened the one to the left. Bingo.

Satiny bras, silky panties. Cotton and lycra. Elastic waistbands, adjustable straps. Thongs, briefs. Red, black, white, ecru, even some green and blue thrown in here and there. Jane dug her hand in the soft, slick pile of underclothes, sifting her fingers through them. She dug her hand in a few more times, feeling the wonderful sensations, the naughtiness of it.

Her fingers scraped across something at the bottom of the drawer. She pulled it out, and looked at it. It was a plain notebook, college ruled, purple cover on which her own name had been lovingly scripted.

Jane Wallace. She ran her fingers over the letters, transfixed by the care Nicole had taken with the lettering.

Jane flashed back suddenly to her own childhood. Her first sexual encounters, years before she met Thomas, back when she was Jane Biggs.

When the boys called her Jane Bigg Tits just because she’d been the first unlucky girl in her class to grow breasts. When the girls were jealous of her. That slumber party over at Denise Germain’s house when the other girls made her take her nightgown off so they could look at her. The way their fingers moved lightly over the just-growing mounds of flesh that had that dull ache about them. The way she went to sleep that night with her hand in her own panties, remembering the way the girls’ hands felt on her. Searing the memory into her brain so she’d never forget.

She remembered the way she’d felt toward Denise after that night. Was it something like a crush? Something like the one this Nicole had on her? Nicole, who wasn’t even a sperm when Jane had been at that slumber party.

Jane opened the notebook and looked inside. The first page was written on with a girl’s wildly looping hand. Jane skimmed down the page, and her eyes fell on random phrases. “I think I love Mrs. Wallace.” “bury my face between her legs.” “smell her hair.” “put my fingers in her mouth and make her taste herself.”

Jane flipped through the notebook, and found more of the writing.

“can’t stop thinking about her.”

“obsession.”

“Mom’s Polaroid camera to her house tonight.”

Jane kept flipping and finally came upon a page, upon which had been taped a series of Polaroid pictures. The pictures were of Nicole, Nicole in Jane’s own bedroom. Nicole wearing Jane’s own lingerie, taken by Nicole herself reflected in the mirror on Jane‘s dressing table. Jane’s bras didn’t fit the girl well, and her panties looked baggy on the girl’s hips. But the shot the girl had taken of herself in Jane’s blue satin nightie, the one Tom had bought her on their first anniversary, was extremely fetching. Something in the way the girl’s eyes were half closed.

Obsession?

Hadn’t Jane had the same thing with Denise so long ago? It had passed as naturally as a rainstorm, though.

There was a picture of Nicole kissing the tip of her dildo, and she understood that the girl had probably used it as well.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a clicking sound behind her.

She whirled around to find Nicole, naked as the day she was born, shutting the lid to the CD player on her nightstand. She touched the play button and turned around to face Jane. Dark, electronic music played as the girl padded her way across the blue carpet. Close, too close, to the older woman.

“Here,” Nicole whispered. She lifted a hand and hooked over her index finger were Jane’s panties. Jane reached out and grabbed them, wadding them up in her hand.

Nicole looked down at her notebook with her Polaroids. She pointed to the picture she’d taken of herself in Jane’s blue nightie. “That’s my favorite too,” she said. “Do you want to dance?”

Jane nodded, almost involuntarily. Nicole took the notebook out of her hands and set it on her dresser, then folded herself into Jane’s embrace. Jane put her hands on the girl’s back, felt her young muscles moving under her warm skin. She could smell the scent from the girl’s shampoo, she could feel the warmth coming from the top of her head.

“Your door’s open, Nicole,” Jane whispered delicately. Indeed, the door to the girl’s room was cracked, open about six inches. The darkness outside was intimidating, but exciting at the same time. Who knew if anyone was watching?

“I told you it’s okay,” she said. “They’ll never hear us, they won’t even wake up.”

Jane flashed quickly to ten to twenty years in jail, but the image faded quickly. Frankly, at this point, Jane didn’t much care. She caressed her hands up and down the girl’s back, stopping just south of the shoulder blades, just north of her butt.

They orbited each other as the music pulsed around them. Jane watched in the mirror over Nicole’s shoulder. Watched them moving together, watched the girl’s tiny little butt shifting back and forth.

She spared a glance into her own eyes, asked herself quickly if she realized exactly what she was doing, and then told herself it didn’t matter.

She pulled out of Nicole’s embrace and turned around, lifting her hair up and looking over her shoulder at the naked girl.

“Unzip me?” she asked.

Jane felt the girl’s hands moving over her back, up her shoulders, down to the zipper of her black dress, the one she saved for special occasions like tonight. Special occasions like her fifteenth anniversary of being married to Thomas Wallace. Drunk and passed out, he was relinquishing the opportunity to a fourteen year old girl who had a major crush on his wife.

Fuck him, she thought. He deserves this.

She heard the slow sound of the zipper opening. She felt a chill on her back. She shrugged out of the dress, let it fall to the ground.

She stood in front of Nicole, who looked like she was about to burst from excitement, dressed in her black bra, her black panties, and her black garter belt with black thigh stockings. All of which, this girl had probably tried on. This very ensemble, Jane thought, I’d probably find a picture of it if I looked through Nicole’s book.

“I love this garter belt,” Nicole said, hooking a finger in one of the straps, snapping it back playfully.

“Come to me,” Jane breathed. She walked over to Nicole’s bed and sat down, holding out her hands to the girl.

Nicole walked slowly over to her, Jane watched the girl’s hips move, her breasts pendulate, the skin over her soft stomach shift. She grabbed Jane’s hands and moved in close.

They kissed. Delicately at first, then more passionately. Jane’s hand moved over the girl’s bottom, the girl’s hand moved back to unclasp Jane’s bra.

Having freed Jane’s breasts, Nicole bent down to take one in her hand and the other in her mouth. She suckled and nipped at one nipple as she pinched the other. Jane reached down and took Nicole’s breasts into her hands. She kneaded and squeezed, heard the girl’s breathing quicken.

Nicole pushed forward, pushing Jane onto her back. She kissed her way down Jane’s stomach to the waistband of her panties. She licked once or twice at the fabric atop her pubic mound, and then slid the panties off her hips.

Jane reached behind her to unclasp her garter belt, but Nicole’s hand’s stopped her. “Leave it on,” she said. “It’s sexier with it on.”

Jane nodded and pulled the girl close to her. They kissed, and rolled around on the bed for a while. Eventually, Nicole’s hand made its way to the place where Jane’s legs met, explored the dark brown hair for a while, and eventually found its way to the slick valley down there.

Jane’s own hand explored Nicole’s nether region, but didn’t stop at the musky opening. She continued on to the pucker behind it, and lightly plucked at it with a fingernail.

The girl’s breathing paced up as Jane continued working, and Jane’s own breathing crescendoed as the girl worked first one, and then two fingers as deep inside her as they would go. Her thumb worked on the stiffness between her lips.

“I have wanted this for so long,” Nicole breathed.

Now Jane moved her fingers to the wet opening between the girl’s legs.

The two embraced as they worked their fingers in and out of each other. They breathed heavily, the blood rushed in their ears, their cheeks, their chests.

They worked for a while, and Jane was the first to succumb. Her body wracked with shudders, and when she collapsed, she was as fulfilled and satisfied as she’d been in a long time. Except for the fact that the girl hadn’t come.

“Come over here,” Jane said, grabbing Nicole’s waist and swiveling her around. She spread the girl’s legs and moved up between them. She kissed Nicole’s face, her neck, her breasts. “You’ve given me something I haven’t had in a long time,” Jane said. “I want to give you the same pleasure.”

She grabbed the girl’s hand, the one that had been inside her, the one that had brought her to completion, and made a big show of sucking on the small fingers.

“Do you taste yourself?” Nicole asked.

Jane nodded.

“How does it taste?”

Jane hummed low, rolling her eyes. She could see the pleasure on Nicole’s face, and reveled in it.

She moved down the girl’s abdomen, and nuzzled against the downy mound of dark hair at the bottom. Her lips found Nicole’s clit and she kissed it. Her mouth covered it, her teeth nipped at it. She worked a finger in Nicole’s opening, then two, then three.

Nicole’s hips bucked and rocked. She grabbed Jane’s hands and knitted their fingers together.

Jane felt the shudders quaking through Nicole’s body, and continued until they stopped. Squeaks of pleasure escaped Nicole’s mouth and Jane had to cover it with her own. They kissed deeply, luxuriantly. Eventually, Jane broke the kiss.

“Do you taste yourself?” she asked

Nicole nodded.

“How does it taste?”

“I’ve tasted it before,” she answered breathlessly. “On your dildo.”

They lay together for a while, their sweaty bodies sticking to each other. Eventually, Jane stood up and started putting her clothes on.

“Don’t go,” Nicole pleaded. Exhaustion was clear on her face, but her eyes were insistent. “I want more.”

Jane put her bra back on, and stepped into her panties. “Maybe next time,” she said.

“When will that be?”

Jane shrugged. “I don’t know. Soon.” She bent down and kissed Nicole’s forehead. She picked up her dress, climbed under it, and let it fall. She zipped up the back and picked up her handbag.

“I want more,” Nicole repeated. “I need you.”

Jane smiled. “You have me,” she said. “But I have to get home.”

Now Nicole smiled devilishly. “Don’t you want these?” She held her hand up, and hooked around one of her fingers were Jane’s panties, the Victoria’s Secret ones, the ones that had started this whole thing.

Jane plucked them out of the girl’s hand and fingered them for a while. Finally, she put her fingers behind the front of them and put her hand on the girl’s crotch. She masturbated the teenager with her panties for a few moments, loving how the girl looked at her as she did. Then she pulled her hand away and brought it to her nose. She breathed in the girl’s musk, and released the breath slowly.

“Keep them,” she said, and slinked out of the room.

THE END

 

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Honey Loves – Confessions of an Incestuous Mother, Chapter 2

  • Posted on September 20, 2016 at 5:30 pm

By eloquent delinquent

Even I had a modest phase. It started late and ended early, but it happened. When puberty hit at 11, it seemed like I got boobs, and my period, and grew two inches, all in the course of a month. I never went taller than five foot six, and when I filled out my breasts weren’t much more than a handful, while the curves of my hips and ass were much more generous. My hair went from straight and straw blond to nearly brown and wavy. Occasionally I’d get a rash of zits on my forehead.

Although the girl I saw every day in the mirror looked okay I guess, and I got a lot of attentive looks, it didn’t matter to me. The body I’d adored and had so much fun with was now confusing, awkward, and sometimes mortifying. I felt betrayed. I was emotional, erratic, as massive quantities of hormones were dumped into my nervous system. I was a wreck. I put on a brave face, acting like everything was just peachy, but I got shy. I got depressed.

And, I got these… these, urges.

It would start with a thought, some erotic image or situation would leap into my head out of nowhere, and my body would get flush and sweaty. My heart would pound, I’d tingle all over, feel weird like I needed to pee, and just get restless and peevish. It all made me very nervous. I didn’t know what to do about the urges. I’d internalized my early no-no training so well, it didn’t occur to me to touch myself. The way I played when I was younger, sex was something I saw, not something I touched. I longed to see those naked bodies from childhood again, the urges made me think about them all the time, but I didn’t dare because I didn’t know what to do about my awkward body, or what my body was doing to me, other than driving me crazy.

But the funny thing is, those urges have a way of getting what they want.

At a friend’s pool party, I was watching a bunch of kids my age splash and frolic in their skimpy swimsuits, and you better believe I was having urges. I was straddling an inflatable shark, and the combination of my thoughts, the undulating water, and my tingling pussy pressed up against the puffy vinyl gave me a sudden revelation. This delightful surge just welled up through me, making me gasp. I remember that I faked sick and rushed home so I could explore these unimaginable sensations I’d just experienced.

Exploring my fuzzy quim with my fingers brought me intense, almost overwhelming pleasure. It also brought those distant memories back – the Easter in that sunlit backyard, and others which were blurrier but just as suggestive. All at once, it was like I’d solved an obstinate, frustrating riddle, and re-connected to that innocently sexual girl I’d been.

It probably took a couple weeks of masturbating at least once every day before I had my first real cum. It left me naked and jerking helplessly with my knees up in my window seat one morning, but I’m not exaggerating when I say it changed my life. After I gave myself a second cum, and a third, I found that now I had a purpose, and that was to arrange the rest of my life so I could indulge my eager naughty bits as often as possible.

Orgasms turned out to be the cure for my pubescent melancholy. At age 12 I was already free.

My puckish curiosity about other people’s bodies came flooding back. But this time, I wanted to do more than look. My scouting and cajoling skills needed a bit of polish, but often seduction is as simple letting someone know how attractive you think they are and letting them lead, showing them affection every step of the way. Within a year, I was up to my old tricks.

Boys were easier than ever. Most of them couldn’t wait to show me their cocks, and oh! How they’d changed! So much bigger and more exciting to me. When they discovered I was eager to touch them, the boys let me do whatever the hell I wanted. It wasn’t complicated to make them squirt, but I experimented constantly as I jerked their hard, hot, amazing dicks, and I loved it when my new move drove a guy into straining ecstasy, his boner getting thicker and harder in my stroking hand. I was instantly a fan of their thick, hot, salty cum, seeing it spurt and gush, the taste of it. It was like their offering to me, my reward for pleasing them. No surprise, I guess, that I took to sucking cock very early and very enthusiastically.

But boys had their downsides. Some of them would try to hook me up with their friends and snigger behind my back. Others would suddenly think I was their girlfriend, and give me all kinds of undesired attention. Either way, I found it possessive and creepy. I was just playing, I didn’t want to be somebody’s property. In order to make some of them get the picture, I had to be mean, which was very unpleasant.

And even worse, as much as they loved me worshiping their horny pricks, they had no idea what to do with me and my pussy. Some of them made earnest, fumbling efforts, and a couple improved remarkably with effort and some gentle instruction. But frankly most were afraid, intimidated by cunt, and to get real satisfaction I had to turn to people who had pussies of their own.

Girls my age were more skittish than ever, but if I could win them over, I could rely on them to be discrete. It took as much emotional closeness and trust as it did flirting to get a girl to undress and let me touch her, but it was worth it. Looking back, I see that I made quite a few close friends simply because I wanted to get them naked.

Later, some bitchy prude girls tried to hang a whorish reputation on me in high school. But so many of my partners came to my defense that the whole thing kind of stalemated, and fizzled out.

I wasn’t a whore, I was a slut. A whore would fuck anyone, just for the attention. A slut, in my eyes, chose her partners carefully, and then enjoyed them with total abandon. Whores were dependent, sluts were in charge. No matter how demanding my sexuality became, I was the one guiding it. The girls I was with sensed that in me, and wanted me to teach them that as much as anything else.

It turned out that a lot of the girls, especially early on, were so anxious about nudity and sexual touching because they were still stuck on that riddle that I’d already solved. I showed them how, sometimes by demonstrating, or even better, doing it for them, to them. Watching their faces, their bodies melt and spasm in sheer bliss, knowing it was me making them feel that way, was marvelously empowering. I was a 13 year old apostle of girly masturbation, and I made a lot of converts. Teenagers were eager to become sluts.

Once I made them cum once or twice, most girls proved to be just as horny as me, with curiosities of their own. I hadn’t even imagined licking a pussy until one of my teammates did it to me, tentatively sniffing and tasting before introducing me to an ecstasy I could barely withstand. I couldn’t wait to return the favor, and honed that naughty skill on the wet delicious cunts of my special friends whenever I could.

When I first saw butt play on the internet, I even had a couple of girls willing to explore that kink with me, and we tumbled on our beds, tongues and fingers discovering the thrills of our tight, tender little assholes, and the profound sensations that lay deeper inside.

I think my parents were aware of my activities on some level, but because I kept my grades up, stayed out of trouble, and didn’t turn into an emotional basket case, they just let me grow in my own way. And aside from my constant sexual desires, I behaved almost normally. I was bright, and school was easy for me, especially math and science. Being blonde, pretty, and from a well-off family didn’t hurt socially, but I got more popular by being in sports, playing varsity volleyball in the fall, and JV tennis every spring.

So long as I could cum my brains out about a dozen times a week, either by myself, or preferably, with a partner, I was golden. I was in the zone.

The only thing nobody really knew about me, was how much I still longed to see the secret places of little kids. I knew it was pervy but I missed it, and I got so horny thinking about it now that I was an adolescent. Like lots of girls, I picked up babysitting to earn a little money, and most of those jobs were just as Sweet-Valley-High-innocent as you would think. But once in a while my little charges would show a flirty, precocious side, and, heart fluttering nervously, I would see how far I could go.

There were a few tantalizing bath times, nude gleaming children whose bodies I could gently lather, and their blushy cheeks, sighs, and gasps are things I’ll never forget.

Even better was the Berger’s 8 year old boy, Noah, who got a stiffie from my flirting, and worriedly asked me to “check on it.” I was frigging him off in no time, to his astounded delight, and every other Friday I would babysit and masturbate his cute pink little pecker, often with my pants down and my free hand rubbing myself off under my panties while he watched. He’d cum twice to my once, no sperm, just throbbing bliss, and he’d barely flag as I continuously stroked him, getting that little dick hard and hot all over again.

But the best were the Halliday twins, 5 year old charmers who’d just discovered that everyone is naked underneath their clothes. I let the girls undress me that first night, helping them with the bra, and they explored me however they wanted. When they spread my legs to investigate my “fuzzy,” I showed them how I could make myself feel sooo good. When I was done cumming, they wanted me to do it for them, and from eighth grade til my junior year at high school, we played naked games every time I visited. Once a month, undressing would become cuddling and kissing, melting into mutual masturbation and pussy licking, and by the end the little twin sisters were joyfully committing incest with each other while I watched, furiously fingering myself.

They were about the same age in the beginning as Bianca is now, and as I rub her increasingly wet little slit, I notice how similar they feel, so beautiful, and her reaction is just as blissful and arousing as theirs had been. Plus, she’s my precious baby girl, and these honey touches give me this deep emotional connection, a physical expression of my affection for her, lovingly given and innocently received. I press into her pussy tenderly and she coos, brown hair draping around her downturned face.

I realize that while I’ve been reminiscing and relishing my daughter’s pleasure, I’ve wandered past the olives three times. I quietly take the cans and put them in the cart. As I do, Bianca shifts her hips suddenly, almost pinning my fingertip beneath her soft steamy cunt, and begins pressing down, subtly grinding against it.

“Mmmmm, Momma,” she sighs.

I know what she wants, but I let her thrust against my finger for a bit as we cross into the next aisle, enjoying the feel of her body finding its own pleasure. God, it turns me on to know she enjoys this like I do. My panties are soaked, upper thighs getting damp.

As we turn down the cereal aisle, I spot another young mother with two boys. She’s quite a bit older than me (most mothers are) dark haired and attractive even with her hair pulled back and no makeup. One of the boys is my daughter’s age, hanging off the edge of their cart, the other probably a couple years older, and they’re arguing.

“I want Fruit Loops,” insists the younger as we approach.

“You’ll have Cheerios,” his brother counters.

“Mo-ooom,” the little one whines, turning to the voice of authority.

“Figure it out amongst yourselves,” she replies calmly.

“No fair!” accuses the younger, jerking the cart. “You never take my side.”

“Oh please,” snarks his brother, rolling his eyes, “you always get whatever you want.”

We pass by, and I take a box of granola bars while Bianca rouses at the sound of the brothers bickering. She glances at them, then up to me. Hidden inside, I raise my naughty finger against her slickness and wiggle it a bit, and her eyes sparkle with gratification and gratitude.

Then she looks back at the family across the aisle, and freezes. One of her eyebrows goes up, a signal for me to pay attention to what she’s looking at. I stop the cart, and with a suddenly stiff spine and a pit dropping out in my stomach, I slowly turn around.

The three of them are looking right at us, and the boys have gone quiet. I realize in a rush that I’ve met the mother once or twice before at school events. With all the dread I’m feeling, I can’t remember her name. The older boy looks frustrated at the interruption in his fight, but the younger brother stares sheepishly at my daughter.

“Hi, Bianca,” he says in a flat tone, obligatory.

“Hi, Jayden,” she replies, just as formally, then coughs once. Her puss contracts gently around my nestled fingertip.

“You get your turkey yet?”

“Yeah.”

“We’re getting ours today. It’s gonna be really big, cause we’re having all the family come to our house.”

“Neat!”

All I can think of during this exchange is the mother as she meets my eye. I can tell she recognizes me too. How much can she see? Is my body blocking my hand? Does the coat cover enough? Because no excuse is good enough for being up your six year old daughter’s dress to your elbow.

But filtering through my own self-absorbed panic, I gradually discern the look on her face. It’s not suspicious, or disgusted. She’s wistful. And now I know that all she sees is a doting mother, a rosy cheeked daughter, gazing fondly at each other on a routine errand. She’s comparing us to her own squabbling boys, and they’re not doing too well.

Grinning slightly, she inclines her head toward me and says, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

I muster a surprised smile. At least the surprise is real. “Thanks, the same to you.”

Looking to Bianca, the mother’s grin blooms into a little smile. My daughter returns it glowingly, and lifts her hand to give them a finger waggling, ‘toodles’ wave. I swear I feel her little cunt getting wetter now.

We all start to move on, moving in opposite directions. The boys shove to get their cereal boxes into their cart. Their mother sighs. Bianca and I squint our eyes and grin slyly at each other.

“That was good, Bon-Bon. Momma’s impressed.”

She shrugs and says, “They don’t need to know. Honey loves are just for us.” Then she makes an adorable shushing gesture, finger over her lips.

I wiggle my finger between her other wet lips and she gasps. But she recovers quickly, and a moment later she shimmies her hips back into place to put more of her hot little cunt into my hand.

She’s getting really excited now.

“Come on honey,” I tell her, moving down the main aisle. “Time to find a good spot.”

I know I can’t hold off giving her what she needs for much longer. In that, she’s just like me. A mind for erotic pleasure and very little impulse control. And one thing I’ve learned, knowing you’re like that doesn’t make it any easier to control or resist.

For example, you don’t have to be your high school’s resident nymphomaniac to get pregnant at 17, but it sure helps. I never got into any trouble until I got all of it. My parents were disappointed, but resigned to my choice. And Mitch – who I’m pretty sure was the one responsible – stepped up and owned it. He was one I always liked best anyway, and even though I dropped out, I got my GED before Bianca was even born, which got my folks okay with it. It looked like things were going to work out.

A year later, everything had changed. No plan, no matter how good, survives first contact with a baby. Mitch took off eight months after Bianca came along. I’d shed my pregnancy weight and started feeling sexual again, but Mitch didn’t see me that way any more. And even though he was okay with me fucking our couple-friends Ryan and Kayla back in high school, he wasn’t okay when I took it back up. Honestly, I think he was looking for a way out, and I gave him one. Being a dad at 19 was too much for him.

I’ll admit, after he was gone, I had some dark days. All my high school friends and lovers had moved on and moved out, and my life with a newborn wasn’t anything like theirs. I felt isolated with all the demands of my baby for the first time. Desperate for partnership, I made some really bad decisions. I drank too much. I fucked some real pieces of work.

Eventually, I got so self-destructive that my family stepped in. Even my big brother and kid sister, who I’d never felt that close to, came to my aid, and our relationships got better by the day. Bianca was a happy baby, easy to love, and that made my life even better. My parents agreed to support me so long as I went back to school, so I started attending tech college part-time while they babysat my little Bon-Bon.

As things got back on track, I made a bit of a vow to myself and my daughter. I’d never get sexually involved with anyone until Bianca was old enough to look after herself for a while. It hasn’t always been easy – I got a lot of looks, from both sexes, and I couldn’t help but wonder. Motherhood changed my body a bit, a little softer, a little curvier, my ass especially. I attract different people than I used to. It’s interesting. But my role as a mother became my priority, and temptation didn’t get the best of me, for once.

That vow is a promise I’ve never broken. Well, almost.

I thought my sex drive would taper off as I reached my twenties, but it’s only gotten stronger. I tried and tried to repress those desires, but every time I did, within a month I broke down and went at my needy, demanding pussy like an animal, cumming in an all-day frenzy to make up for what I’d denied myself.

The internet became my best friend and worst enemy, as I so easily discovered porn and erotica that catered to my most depraved instincts. So very distracting. I spent a lot of time alone in my apartment with my baby girl, and nap time for her was frequently masturbation time for me, feet propped up wide against the desk, a hot video or dirty story feeding my lust. I used my fingers or a vibrator I got from an old classmate, frantically pleasing my pussy and anus. I always tried to get in one good hard cum before Bianca woke up.

On top of that, I sexualized everything. The tapered neck of an olive oil bottle, the plush roundness of the arm of my sofa, the sleek wooden handle of my hairbrush, the deep warm vibration of my clothes dryer, the firm girth of a cucumber, even the ball shaped newel post at the bottom of the stairs – all of these got pressed into service during my desperately horny solo time as a young mom, and as I fucked these objects I’d fantasize about the times I’d had, and yearned to have again.

Continue on to Chapter 3

 

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I Couldn’t Stop, Part Two

  • Posted on September 18, 2016 at 4:45 pm

You’re Not My Girlfriend

By Pretty Pink Taco

I reached down below my stomach and placed a firm hold on my clit, rubbing it rhythmically as I humped against her body.

“Oh, Sammy, keep sucking baby… Yeah, like that… A little harder… Oh, yes, baby, yes!” I had lost complete control of my body, my thoughts, my moans, my only focus was on cumming.

“Jen–” she started to detach herself from my nipple.

“Don’t stop!” I shoved it back in her mouth and pressed her to me as I rubbed with the other hand. “Fuuuck,” I moaned, feeling rush of adrenaline build in my clitoris and exploding throughout my body. I felt my heart beating out of my chest, I couldn’t even breathe properly as I collapsed beside her, huffing and puffing against the bed.

“Jenna, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I laughed to myself nervously, “I’m going to hell for this.”

“You said the F word,” she giggled, “Can we watch Cartoon Network?”

“Oh, god,” I groaned, putting my hand on my face and burying my head into the pillow beside me.

“Or we don’t have to maybe. What do you want to watch?” she asked sweetly.

“Let’s watch Cartoon Network,” I said monotonously, lifting my head and smirking at her. “Let me put some clothes on first.” I got up and left her room as she turned on her television from bed. After I was dressed, I got back into bed with her and she immediately rested her head on my shoulder while we watched cartoons.

“Jenna, are you still my girlfriend?” she asked. I grabbed her plump little ass cheek and kissed the top of her head.

“Of course.”

***

I didn’t realize when Scott came home a few hours later. Samantha and I had fallen asleep watching cartoons. Part of me was scared because the door was wide open when I woke up and Samantha had no bikini top on and my hand was resting on her bottom.

“Daddy, daddy!” Samantha leaped into his arms when we saw him in the kitchen.

“Hey!! Where are your clothes?” he laughed.

“I have to take a bath.”

“You do, you’re smelly,” he sniffed around her neck playfully making her giggle uncontrollably.

“We’re going out to the movies tonight,” she told him.

“Oh, yeah? Who is we?”

“Me and Jenna.”

“Ahh. Okay, good,” he sighed with relief, “I’m going out tonight.”

“We’re going to get dressed up, Jenna says.”

“Oh yeah? That’s fancy!” Scott looked at his expensive watch and then at me, still carrying Samantha in his arms. “Hey Jenna, why don’t you go take a break or something before tonight. I’ll be home until 9 or so. Not sure when you planned to take Sammy out.”

“Oh, me neither. I’ll check movie times. Maybe 7 or so?” I realized I mimicked his words.

“Cool! Go get take a bath, I need to shower and take a nap before tonight.”

***

Scott let me borrow his Acura for the night. I was surprised he was serious about me being able to use it. Thankfully, the shopping center that had several restaurants, as well as the mall and a movie theatre was less than 5 miles away. I wore a plain black dress with some blue flats and Samantha had a pretty tea style pink and green dress with wide stripes on the skirt. I put a bit of makeup on around my eyes and glossed my lips. When we pulled into the parking garage I felt a little nervous about what we would do, I had no idea what to talk to her about during dinner.

“Sammy?” I leaned over and puckered my lips for a kiss in the car; thankfully the windows were tinted. She eagerly placed her hand on the center console and boosted herself up to join mine. “Mhh. Again?” I asked and she kissed me some more, opening her mouth for my tongue. I cupped her chin and we continued to kiss like two lovers, I knew it would be a few hours before I was able to touch her again. She didn’t want to pull away, but I timed dinner so that we’d make the movie. “Ready?” I asked, finally pulling away. She nodded with a big smile.

When we stepped out the car she immediately took my hand, it was a little strange at first. I thought everyone knew of all of the inappropriate things I was doing to this little girl, but no one seemed to even glance. Holding the hand of a child was a normal thing most people did, I realized. During dinner, we mostly talked about the menu and her friends back home and her friends at school.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?” I asked her.

“Uhhm, I don’t know,” she looked down at her plate, “Maybe I want to do what my dad does?”

“Do you know what he does?”

“Not really,” she shook her head.

“Your dad has a lot of girlfriends?” I asked curiously, remembering the picture of the hot blonde on his cellphone.

“Yeah, he does. He kisses them.”

“Oh, yeah? You’ve seen them?”

“Yeah,” she giggled and blushed a little.

“Were you peeking on him?” I teased her, and she nodded, taking another bite of her dessert. “Do you care if we see a grown up movie?”

“No, is that what you want?”

“Yeah, all of the other movie times have passed or sold out,” I lied, looking at my phone for the time.

The theatre was a bit chilly and as soon as we walked in Samantha said she had to use the bathroom.

“Come with me, Jenna?” she tugged my arm.

“I’m here, I’ll be right here waiting for you, go ahead,” I told her. A mother of two girls who was standing nearby glanced at us.

“Please?” she begged.

“My little one doesn’t like going in by herself either, you should go with her,” the mom told me empathetically before she left. I nodded and followed Samantha into the stall. As soon as the door closed behind us I rushed to her little mouth and gave her a quiet tongue kiss, making my heart race incredibly fast.

“OK, hurry up,” I said a little loudly so that no one would get suspicious. She raised her big skirt, pulled down her panties and sat on the toilet seat.

“Watch me,” she whispered, “Watch me pee.” I lowered my head and looked around the bathroom for any feet in the other stalls. There was no one else in there. I helped her lift her skirt a bit in the front with one hand and got my first glimpse of her smooth bald pussy. She had no visible slit from my angle, but I was craving to touch it. I touched my own covered pussy with the other hand under my skirt. Suddenly, a stream of clear yellow fluid flowed into the toilet. My clit was throbbing at the sight of her little pussy flex slightly while she peed. I never thought I’d ever find urine to be sexy, but I was ready and willing to lick the fresh piss off her little girl cunt.

“Get some toilet paper, come on,” I said to her. She grabbed a few sheets and wiped herself dry.

“You go,” she told me.

“But, I don’t have to go.”

“Go!!” she whined, followed by a devilish giggle. All of a sudden, a huge influx of people marched through the door, it has sounded like a movie had just let out. There were so many stalls in this bathroom, we were somewhere in the middle.

“Okay!” I whispered to her nervously. I didn’t know what was happening or why I was about to expose myself to this little girl so publicly. I pulled down my panties and lifted my dress up over my hips as a squatted over the toilet seat.

“Why don’t you sit?” she asked me. I found sitting on public toilets to be so disgusting.

“Sshh!”

She squatted down to get a better view of my pussy, as she did I spread my lips apart with two fingers, giving her full visual access. She watched in awe as I started to pee into the toilet and my face turned red with embarrassment. The bathroom was so loud with people flushing toilets and chattering about, no one heard the multiple tongue kisses I gave her.

“Ready?” I asked her and she nodded.

We went to see a romantic comedy that had gotten terrible reviews and was in its last week of viewing at the theatre, so I knew the theatre would be nearly empty. 15 minutes into the movie, Samantha was already restless.

“It’s cold in here,” she complained, “Can we get ice cream later?”

“Sshhh!” I whispered to her quietly, holding a finger to my lips. The theatre really was empty, we sat all the way in the back row at a far end corner.

“Jenna!” Samantha whispered a few minutes later.

“What!” I whispered back, tersely.

“I want to sit on your lap,” she looked at me and grinned. I looked around the theatre, the closest people were 5 rows ahead of us and in the middle. I rolled my skirt up my lap, exposing my thighs and cotton blue panties.

“Come,” I patted my lap and she quickly jumped up from her seat and onto my thigh. I pulled the bottom of her dress up so that her skin would touch my skin and I felt her tiny covered pussy crash against my thigh. She rocked herself back and forth on my thigh for a bit before I pulled her toward me more, her plump ass against my lap, panty to panty. “You have to be quiet now, okay?” I told her, she nodded. She started to rub herself against my lap while I leaned back and pushed my pussy up toward her ass. We sat there, grinding on each other while the others watched the dumb movie.

“Can we go?” she whined after 10 minutes, “I’m tired.” I sighed deeply, I had never been so annoyed and horny at the same time.

“Fine,” I lifted her off my lap and on to her feet. “Let’s go,” I took a hold of her hand and lead her out of the theatre quickly and quietly. Maybe it was a good idea to leave, going back to her house would be more private.

“Are you mad at me?” Samantha asked quietly as we rode down the escalator of the giant movie theatre. Her question did take me by surprise, I supposed I was being a bit short with her.

“Haha, no. You little brat,” I yanked her arm and pulled her into me for a big hug. There were lots of people there, no one was watching us, nobody cared. Who could ever imagine that a young teenage girl was having a somewhat sexual relationship with an eight year girl? Still, I wanted to avoid people I knew from school or from the pool. “Ready for ice cream?”

****

“Jenna!” a familiar voice called out to me while we waited in line at Cold Stone Creamery. I turned to find Amber’s warm face, smiling and waving from the small tables. She was with a group of boys from my school. Before I could wave back, she started to walk over. Her light colored, soft, skin-tight jeans hugged her hips and thighs perfectly and her casual top was short enough to expose her belly ring and low-cut enough to show off the tops of her gorgeous breasts. If only she weren’t walking over to me, not right now. “I never see you out!” she said when she got near.

“Yeah,” I looked at the ground bashfully. I noticed her toenails were now painted. The boys at the table became loud and rowdy with laughter as they talked and joked about.

“God, they can be such beasts,” she laughed, “Fucking childish.”

“Jenna?” Samantha tugged on my arm, zapping me back into reality.

“Oh! Hey, buddy!” Amber said in a high pitched voice at Samantha, like she did to all the children at the pool. “You guys are dressed up! What are you on a date or something?” she laughed. This was probably the worst scenario I could imagine.

“Hi,” Samantha responded to her quietly and then looked up at me, “Can we go pick what we want?”

“You can go up there and see what flavors there are. I have to wait in line. Go ahead,” I nudged her. Once Samantha was out of earshot, I turned back to Amber and explained nervously, “My parents are celebrating a promotion at work. Mr. Price needed someone to watch her tonight, so they said it was OK to bring her along. They’re both waiting for us in the parking lot.”

“Hey, you should come to my birthday thing next week– Friday. It will be at Rio Lounge,” she told me, practically ignoring everything I had said. It took a lot for me to come up with that lie on the fly.

“Isn’t that a nightclub?”

“Yeah, it’s Teen Night,” she said, “I reserved a section for my party. Wanna come? I can add you to the VIP list.”

“Friday?” I pretended to think, but I couldn’t with her golden cleavage in my face. “Alright.”

“Awesome,” she smiled, “Ah, it’s your turn. I’ll see ya at work.”

“Oh, you too. Bye,” I said awkwardly, not able to finish my sentence before she walked away. She always made me so tongue tied and act like a complete idiot. She waved to us again on our way out, I couldn’t wave back because I was holding my cup, but I nodded– with a shy smile.

“Do you like Amber?” I asked Samantha as we ate our ice creams on a bench near the parking lot.

“I don’t know. She’s okay,” Samantha shrugged.

“I think she’s pretty,” I thought outloud.

“You do? Everybody thinks she’s pretty. I don’t think she’s that pretty,” her eyebrows became furrowed and she stared at her ice cream long and hard.

“I think you’re prettier,” I told her, trying to change the topic. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, but it didn’t seem to change her face much. As we got in the car, I had noticed Samantha had grown quieter and I wasn’t sure why. I almost asked her but I didn’t like people bugging me when I needed space. After I strapped her in next to me, I began to pull my own seatbelt.

“Do you want Amber to be your girlfriend instead of me because she’s a big girl?” she asked me very frankly. I felt nervous, as if I got caught doing something wrong.

“What? No, Sam.”

“You stare at her like my Daddy stares at her,” she pouted, she didn’t look at me, only forward at the glove compartment.

“Look at me,” I leaned over to her and she stared, disinterested, “Don’t be sad. You are so beautiful and nice and smart and the best kisser. That’s why you’re my girlfriend and no one else.” She saw the sincerity in my eyes and kissed me. I took her tongue in slowly, tasting the sweetness of the ice cream that still clung to her lips. “Mhhh, stick your tongue all the way out,” I instructed her. When she did, I flicked and sucked on her tongue, making her giggle.

“Can I do it to you?” she asked and waited for my tongue to come out. She licked and sucked on it as well, bobbing her head and suckling on it like she would a huge nipple.

“Ready to head back?” I asked her. She nodded with a smile. My cellphone buzzed suddenly, in my bag. “It’s probably your dad,” I said, reaching for my purse. It was Amber.

Amber: Jake thinks you’re cute.

Me: LOL

Amber: Do you like him? He’s breathing down my neck right now reading this.

I never replied and drove us back to Scott’s place. I had no idea what to say.

“Can you tie my hair like yours?” Samantha asked me back at Scott’s place. It was a bit past 11pm and we were both in our bikinis about to step into the hot tub. I had just tied my hair in a messy bun at the top of my head to keep my hair dry.

“Your hair is so long and pretty,” I said as I tied it for her. She had much thicker hair than I did, I had always wanted to have lots of thick hair.

I got in first and then helped her in. She immediately clung to me, wrapping her arms around my neck and legs around my torso.

“Jenna,” she whispered, and pressed her forehead on mine and our noses touched. It was amazing how instantly she’d turn me on. I didn’t react, I wanted to see what she’d do. Her green eyes were dark and pupils very dilated. Our breathing increased as both our mouths were parted due to the hot steam coming up from the water. She rubbed her nose on my nose slowly and eventually touched her lips on mine. Our tongues joined naturally, slowly and passionately as I felt my insides burning with desire for her. She eventually moved one arm from around my neck and trailed it clumsily down my chest and over my black bikini top. I pulled on the string around her neck and her top fell in front of her revealing her tiny nipples. I immediately latched on to the right one, rolling over the little bump with my tongue several times before switching to the left. I pulled away to look at her, her lips were plump and pink and as she panted and looked at me with those beautiful eyes. I rushed a kiss on her like before but a little more sloppily. She placed both hands at the tops of my breasts and squeezed them.

“Take it off,” I whispered and she pushed my triangle top to the sides, letting my breasts pop out. I moved the both of us over to a corner seat of the hot tub and moved my leg between hers as I sat. She rubbed herself up and down my thigh as she bent forward to suck on my hard, wet nipples. It’s amazing she knew what to do– at least what I wanted her to do. Maybe she had wanted it too.

“Like that?” she asked with a smirk, removing herself from my nipple for a half second before sucking it again. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes, arching my back and pushing my breast further into her mouth.

“Yeah, just like that,” I moaned as I began to relax, rubbing my clit over my bikini bottom as the jets from the hot tub massaged my back.

“It feels good?” she asked. I realized she was copying what the two women were saying in the “girlfriends” porn video. I decided to play along with her.

“Mhhh, yes it feels so good, baby,” I would have almost felt silly saying it, but hearing the words come out of my mouth made me hornier.

We suddenly heard the sound of the sliding glass door opening with the voice of a woman laughing and talking to someone. I quickly put my bikini triangles back over my nipples.

“Fix your top!” I whispered to Samantha, sloppily tying her own little top back around her neck from where it hanged. We separated quickly in the water as we looked to see who would appear.

“Hello, my darling Sammy!” a very sexy, tan, blonde woman with huge fake boobs shouted in a Russian accent, blowing kisses into the air.

“Katya!” Samantha waved at her. Scott followed behind and placed his hand around her waist and then trailed it down to her hip and gave her ass a squeeze. The woman jumped up and giggled. She had on a neon yellow micro bikini and her hair was was so blonde it almost looked white against her very tanned skin.

“Hello ladies,” Scott smiled at us before getting into the hot tub and taking a seat across from us. My eyes were fixed on Katya, I couldn’t stop staring at her. She pulled her strings off her top and tossed it aside before stepping in herself. I had never seen breasts so round and fake up close– only in porn movies. Scott stood up to help her in, like a gentleman.

“Why’d you take your top off? My kid’s here,” I heard him say to her. I looked at Samantha who looked at me and giggled.

“It doesn’t matter,” she smiled nonchalantly. Her body was tight and toned and I couldn’t keep my eyes off her enormous breasts.

“Hi, Samantha,” she moved across the tub and gave Samantha a peck on the lips. Samantha seemed to have done it before, she knew it was coming.

“That’s Jenna, Sammy’s uh– friend,” he told her. I wondered if he just didn’t want to say “babysitter” for Samantha’s sake or “girlfriend” for my sake.

“Mhh, hi, Jenny,” she moved over to me and leaned in with puckered lips. I closed my eyes instinctively and held my breath, feeling suddenly anxious to have this woman’s mouth on mine. The kiss was a little wet because her lips were slightly parted when they touched mine. Maybe I imagined it, but it seemed to linger a bit longer than Samantha’s kiss. I had no way of telling because by the time I opened my eyes she was already walking back toward Scott.

“We won’t be here long,” Scott said to me almost apologetically, “I didn’t know you guys were out here.”

“Scooaahtt!” Katya whined in her accent and pressed her tits to his chin. He grabbed her waist and pulled her down to his lap and she shrieked loudly with laughter. She wrapped her arms around his neck and started to whisper something.

“I love it when you talk Russian to me,” he muttered between his teeth before grabbing the back of her head and planting a sloppy kiss on her mouth.

I realized I was probably staring a little too hard and averted my eyes to the water and then to Samantha on my left who looked at me and smiled. She was so beautiful with her bright eyes and pretty smile. I wished I was her for a second, to be so sexually aware at such a young age and surrounded by beautiful women who walked around naked and kissed me. I wished I was just half as beautiful as she was as well, to have people stare everywhere I went and picture me naked. But then I remembered that the beautiful little creature was all mine– my girlfriend. I reached out for her hand under the water and she took it eagerly. Eventually, she moved a little more closely to me and I put my hand on her small thigh. She looked at me and I looked at her, I wanted to kiss her so badly. Kiss her the way Scott kissed Katya– openly and unafraid of repercussions or judgment and just completely free to feel the way I feel.

“Want to know a secret?” I asked her quietly, leaning in. She waited eagerly for the words. I covered my mouth with one hand and licked her soft skin below her ear, feeling a sudden rush knowing that at any moment Scott could turn his face and catch me seducing his eight year old daughter. I licked her some more and then sucked on her earlobe for a split second before pulling away.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” she said to me and tried to do the same thing, except her licks were sprinkled with giggles.

“Okay, okay,” I said, laughing. I glanced at Katya and Scott and it looked as if she were touching him beneath the water.

“Let’s go to bed,” he smiled at her with a wink. Oh, how I envied him. I wanted Katya’s tits in my face, kissing me and whispering Russian nothings in my ear. She stood up again, her entire body glistening. “Goodnight, girls,” Scott said to us as he stood and headed for the steps.

“Oh, goodnight, Samantha,” Katya moved to Samantha and pressed her lips to hers again quickly in short multiple kisses, “Mwah, mwah, mwah!”

“Goodnight, Jaime,” she turned to me. Scott was already out of the hot tub.

“She’s Jenna!” Samantha laughed.

“Ohh, I’m sorry! Jenny, Jenny,” she smiled and made her way over to me in what seemed like slow motion. This time I left my eyes open and parted my lips slightly, making our lips miss and her top lip fell between my wet inner lips. Our eyes locked the entire time, her eyes were a pale, light blue, like a Siberian Husky’s. Suddenly, I felt something rub me quickly in an upward motion on my pussy making me gasp. Katya smiled devilishly and I was frozen– breathless.

“You’re not going to drip all over the bed like last time,” Scott appeared with an open robe.

“I can’t promise that,” she laughed and left the tub. Scott had her in a complete trance. He held the robe open until she slipped her hot body in and then lifted her off her feet and covered her face with kisses, making her laugh loudly all the way inside the house before it went suddenly silent.

“She’s your dad’s girlfriend?” I asked Samantha, curiously.

“No. That’s just Katya. His girlfriend is– not so nice,” she told me.

“Oh.”

“Did you like her, too?” she asked. Her mild jealousy and possessiveness of me was a little cute.

“Nah– she was a little annoying,” I lied, “Ready to go inside?”

“Awww, no. Let’s stay a little longer?” she begged, “Please?”

“Alright,” I pulled her over to me with a smirk.

***

Later that evening before putting her to bed, I told Samantha we couldn’t really do anything because I was too worried with her dad being home. Which was partially true, but also because Scott and Katya left his bedroom door halfway open with sounds of sex echoing throughout the house and I was eager to have a look.

By the time I left Samantha’s room, the sounds had stopped– I had missed it. I didn’t want to risk getting caught in Samantha’s room, so I decided to grab and soda from the fridge before heading home.

“Have you eaten that little girl’s pussy yet?” Katya appeared suddenly in the dark kitchen, completely naked.

“What?” my heart raced. Was she watching us outside in the hot tub? Or maybe when I was putting Samantha to bed? Had Samantha said something to Scott?

“It’s okay,” she said in her accent, “My older sister showed me how to eat pussy when she was your age. You’re like thirteen? Fourteen?”

“Fifteen,” I said quietly, holding the right side of the French fridge doors open, it was the only light we had other than the hallway light out past the living room. I didn’t dare correct her to say that I was turning Sixteen at the end of the year. I knew I didn’t look my age.

“Mhh,” she purred, looking at me up and down. I was still in my black bikini. She made me so nervous I couldn’t even get turned on. Not even because her pussy was waxed completely bald like a little girl’s or because of the incredibly sexy look in her eye. “I asked Scott if we could play with you and he said you’re off-limits. Then he called me ‘sick’ and fucked me,” she laughed. I just stood there, listening intently as she began to walk toward me slowly. “His little girl has a crush on you or something he says. If I had a sweet girl around your age spending time with me, I’d have a lot of fun with her.”

Now I was beginning to get aroused.

“What did Scott say?” I asked shyly, my voice cracking a bit.

“You don’t want Scott, do you?” she moved closer to me and I shook my head immediately. “No, of course not. You want that young pussy in bed. You like girls, right?” she asked. I shook my head again.

“N-no, I–”

“You’re a liar,” she smiled, “It’s okay. I don’t like girls either.” She pressed her body against mine as I walked back toward the counter– letting the fridge door close on its own. I could smell the alcohol and cigarettes on her breath and it was a bit arousing. My breathing became deeper and my head felt light. “You want me to kiss you,” she told me, locking eyes with me and not looking away. She pushed her large, fake breasts against mine and leaned her face in very near. “You want me to kiss you,” she said again, getting a little closer, her parted lips and mine danced dangerously within an inch of each other. “Tell me you want me to kiss you,” she whispered more tenderly, “Say it.” She stuck her tongue out and very gently brushed my bottom lip with the tip for a split second. I couldn’t resist any longer, I wanted her so badly. I wanted her tongue in my mouth and mine in hers. “Tell me. Tell me what you want,” she trailed a finger down my neck and to my chest. My lips were burning for her.

“Kiss me,” I huffed, barely a whisper. She immediately cracked a smile and dropped to her knees, pulling my bottoms down on the way swiftly and almost instinctively finding her tongue to my clit. “W-wait, no, don’t,” I tried to speak but couldn’t, it was too late. She attached herself in a way that wouldn’t come off. She didn’t take breaths for air or stopped to look at it after some licks like they did in porn movies, she just sucked and sucked harder each second. The indirect pressure of her lips on my clit made it throb, I had never been kissed or touched there before– at least not directly. Small whimpers escaped my mouth and my hand that was trying to push her away a moment ago was now stroking her hair. She lifted one of my legs up and rested it on her shoulder, getting her angled access to my vaginal opening. “Ooooh,” I moaned, it was the best feeling I had ever had. For a split second she used her tongue to lap up the wetness that was forming at my pussy before going back up to my clit. I knew that if she had sucked on it even for as half as long as she had, I wouldn’t have lasted much longer. “Ahh, ahh, ahhhh!” I had lost all control of the sounds coming out of my mouth. My clit tingled in a way that seemed like a bottle-neck of nerves.

“Katya, what the fuck!” The lights suddenly turned on in the kitchen and Scott stood there, staring at us in boxer-briefs. At that very moment, I hated him. I hated him because he made her pull away from my aching pussy and look at him. I hated him because he stopped the first ever close-to-orgasm another person had ever given me. I hated him because he had all the time in the world to be with her and now she would go back to him again– for his disposal. As much as I hated him, I was embarrassed and completely mortified. As soon as Katya stood up, I pulled up my bikini bottom.

“What?! She liked it!” Katya exclaimed loudly, with a small smirk on her face.

“You’re trying to get me fucking arrested or sued or something?” he shouted. As she walked out the kitchen Scott gave her a hard smack on her ass and she laughed, darting off into the bedroom.

“Jenna, I’m so, so sorry,” he looked at me sympathetically. I couldn’t look him in the eyes, instead I just looked at the floor near his feet. He had looked more nervous than I felt. “Take a day off to yourself tomorrow or something, I’ll stay here with Sam all day,” he said. I nodded silently. “I’m really sorry about her and everything,” he sighed deeply. “I’m just gonna go now. Night, Jenna.”

I came that night thinking about Samantha on my tits and Katya on my clit, it was the hardest orgasm I had had yet.

***

It was now Monday and I had to work at the pool. I quit my job at the ice cream parlor the night before because of the new job babysitting Samantha. It wasn’t a completely Samantha-free day like Scott had implied. He had sent her over for a few minutes to my house with an envelope filled with cash. Instead of counting it, I stuffed it in my dresser drawer, picked up Samantha and carried her to my bed, covering her face and lips with kisses.

“My daddy said only ten minutes,” she giggled.

“Alright,” I told her as I cuddled her in my arms.

“What did Katya do to you?”

“What?”

“Katya. Remember? From last night?”

“What do you mean?”

“She ate your pussy?” she asked innocently. It threw me off to hear such a young girl say such a naughty thing. “That’s what she did?”

“I don’t know what that means, Sam. Where’d you hear that?”

“My daddy was talking to Katya this morning.”

“What does it mean?” I asked her naively. She shrugged. “Alright. I think it’s been ten minutes.” She groaned in disagreement and got to her feet.

“You’ll be at the pool on Monday?”

“Yup! See you then!”

I was seeing her alright. With my sunglasses on I was watching her, especially among the other children playing and laughing about. From time to time she’d look at me and smile and I smiled back; it was our secret.

“Jenna, you never texted me back!” Amber exclaimed from below. I climbed down to meet her.

“Hey.”

“Hey, so what? Do you like Jake or what?”

“Uhhh–”

“Mrs. Stevens was in here earlier asking about you. She said she’d be by later,” Amber informed me.

“Ugh,” I scoffed.

“What? Don’t like your future mother-in-law?” she joked.

“Please, don’t say that,” I blushed.

“You know my friend Heather?” she asked. Of course I knew Heather, Amber’s best-friend. She was a sexy skinny girl with straight, jet black hair and tiny little green eyes. Everyone at school said she looked like Megan Fox. “Well, ex-friend, now.”

“You’re not getting along?”

“Fuck no. She’s such a cunt. And she’s super insecure and needy. Like it’s my fault she has an eating disorder,” Amber said sharply, crossing her arms. I had no clue what to say to that. I had never said a word to Heather. “Sorry, I know that sounds bitchy, but she does! Anyway, my mom booked this Spa day for my birthday before the party so that I could bring someone and I think I’ll bring you.”

I wanted to go, but I wasn’t sure if it was an invitation or a command. I felt like one of her accessories, like a handbag she chooses to match with a pair of shoes one day. But I didn’t mind, she had been my female crush since I was in 6th grade and she was in 8th. I glanced over at Samantha from across the pool, she had suddenly stopped playing and only looked at me and Amber.

“I might have to babysit,” I told her.

“That kid again? Jesus, Jenna!” she exclaimed and then paused for a second and opened her eyes wide, “Wait a minute, are you crushing on Scott too? You can tell me, ya know?”

“What? No, no,” I shook my head.

“Are you fucking him?”

“Amber! No!” I whispered uncomfortably, looking around to see if anyone else had heard. She laughed loudly and nudged my arm with hers. It was the first time she had ever touched me.

“So ask Scott for the day off– I’ll ask him for you,” she smiled, “Do you want to come?”

“Yeah. I’ll go,” I said quickly. Some kids at the corner of the pool were roughhousing and diving in. “Hey!” I blew my whistle at them– thankful to get out of the weird conversation with Amber.

“See you, Jenna. Oh, and you better wear something hot Friday night! Text me a pic!”

That’s right, I had nothing to wear. I had no idea what was hot. I glanced over at Samantha again and I didn’t see her. Her friends were all there, but there was no sign of her. I had just had the last break of the afternoon, the pool would close in about an hour and there were no signs of the crowd of people getting any lighter. I sat back in my chair and after about 15 minutes the skies got dark. It was the best sound I could of asked for– thunder. The droplets fell lightly and then all at once, making people run for cover and start heading into the showers or just leaving altogether. When everything seemed clear, I headed into the locker room to get started on cleaning before I had to leave. I heard one of the showers running and I didn’t bother to see who it was, but then I remembered I had not seen Samantha in a while.

“Sam?” I called out, but then regretted doing so incase it wasn’t her. I found my little Samantha curled up under the shower where I found her. This time she had her head dug in her lap and her knees up, sobbing heavily. “Samantha! What’s wrong? What happened?” I rushed over to her and put my hand on her wet head.

“Nothing! Leave me alone!” she cried. I turned the shower off.

“What did I do?”

“You’re supposed to be MY girlfriend and you’re always with Amber or always with Katya and you let Katya do stuff with you and you’re supposed to be MY girlfriend, but you’re not!”

“Samantha, you’re exaggerating!”

“You’re not my girlfriend! You’re not!”

“Yes, I am!”

“No, you’re not! You’re not! Stop lying!” she screamed. I had never seen her so upset. I stood up and walked away toward the doors, shutting them and then locking them from the inside. I walked back toward the crying little girl that I adored so much and stood directly above her.

“Stand up,” I said sternly.

“No!” she muttered. I took my T-shirt off and tossed it on the wet shower floor. Then I stood under the falling water and began taking the straps of my red bathing suit down and off my shoulders.

“Come here,” I said a little more softly. She looked up and me with her red eyes and began to to stand slowly. “Take off your clothes,” I instructed her. She stared blankly a moment and began to undo the straps of her bathing suit top. I pulled my own bathing suit down my body and over my hips, letting it plop on the floor.

“And my bottoms too?” she asked.

“Yes, everything.” She obeyed eagerly. Once I stood completely naked under the shower and she lost the last bit of her clothing as well, I extended my arm and pulled her to me for a big tight hug, her head reaching right beneath my breasts. I dropped down to my knees and kissed her, warm water falling down on our heads and down our faces. I kissed her passionately as if it were the first and the last kiss we’d ever have. I ran my hands up and down her back, over her plump ass cheeks and down her legs. I rubbed her nipples and sucked on them hard, tasting the water as I went.

“Jenna,” she said quietly. I looked up at her face, dripping with water. “Touch me?” I knew exactly what she meant. I took a hand and trailed it down from her flat chest to the hard bone of her hip. “Touch it,” she breathed lightly. I pulled her arms down, guiding her to kneel. I kissed her mouth again under the water.

“Get on your back,” I said, between licks of her tongue. She slowly started to lean back and I layed on my stomach in front of her. “Open your legs.”

There was no stopping it now. There I was, face-to-face with the peach I had been waiting for. My lips trembled as I kissed the skin above her slit. I wish I knew what to do with it, but I just didn’t. I knew how it was supposed to look from watching porn, but even Katya managed to get me almost cuming from sucking in one spot.

I made my tongue wide and licked over her slit from the bottom up, peeking up at her and noticed a smile spread across her face and her head fell to the side. For a second I thought of how dirty the floor of the shower must’ve been and considered moving her to a bench near the lockers. I started at the base again and licked up slowly, tasting the soft uncharted skin between her legs. The third time I slipped my tongue into her slit a bit more, slowly pulling apart skin that was used to being closed. I propped myself off the floor with my elbows and spread open her pussy lips with one hand.

“It’s so beautiful,” I told her, gazing at the hot pink contrast against her skin.

“Really?” she started to lift her head a bit to see.

“Stay down,” I extended my hand and pushed on her chest. I licked the sides of her little pussy and then used my tongue to completely cover her pink entrance. It was wet and slimy and her clit began to jut out a bit from its cave. I swallowed hard, tasting her sweetness before going back for me. I licked over her tiny pink hole to up and around her little clit.

“Oh!” Samantha winced, with a jolt.

“Sorry. Did that hurt?” I asked from between her legs. She shook her head.

“Kiss it more,” she said, putting both hands on my head and pressing it toward her. I smiled to myself before extending my tongue once more, water dripping down my head and onto her body. I lost track of time, having the taste of my first prize. And there was nothing sweeter than the pussy of a little girl, a little girl who wanted me just as badly.

“Jennifer!!” a voice shouted angrily from behind us. I turned to see Mrs. Stevens standing there in her one piece black bathing suit with white flowers on it. She had a white seran wrapped around her waist and a stupid big hat with a scarf wrapped around it like she always did. She was a rather portly woman who looked like maybe once at her peak she was curvy but never exactly thin. She wore her hair around her shoulders like female politicians in their 50’s do. Samantha and I both sat up and just stared at her– completely naked under the shower. “Do you have any idea what it is you’re doing?!”

“Mrs.Stevens, I–”

“No excuses! This is despicable and disgusting! No wonder you’re such a strange girl,” she continued. I got up and turned off the shower, making it suddenly much more quiet.

“I’m going to have to tell your parents about this,” she said nastily. Samantha began to sniffle. “Don’t cry now, little girl. You didn’t know any better. It’s this one who is the predator! You’re lucky I don’t call the police!”

“Jenna?!” Samantha whimpered, looking at me with big scared eyes. It was my worst nightmare. I would lose my job, get grounded, everyone at school would know, everyone in the neighborhood. Worst of all I would have never gotten to see Samantha again. Samantha got up to her feet quickly and stood behind me.

“Little girl, take your clothes and your things and go wait outside for your daddy to come get you.”

“No!” Samantha shouted from behind me.

“Let her just go home. She can go home by herself,” I told Mrs. Stevens, never removing my sharp glare from her eyes.

“Unlock this door, Jenna! She can go wait and get changed in the office,” Mrs. Stevens commanded.

“Come, Sam,” I took her by the hand and gathered all her things off the floor. “Take this towel and wait for me in the office, OK? Please.”

I unlocked the door and it pained me to see her leave, distraught and in tears. Mrs.Stevens walked to the door and slammed it closed as soon as Samantha left, turning the latch and locking us inside again. I covered my breasts up with one arm and walked back toward the shower to get my clothing that was soaked and on the floor.

“Leave it there!” Mrs. Stevens yelled, “Put your arm down.” I gave her a nasty look, contemptuously lowering my arm, standing perfectly straight and still in the nude while she stared me down. She suddenly began to lower her bathingsuit straps off her shoulders and two very large white breasts flopped out. They were fat and sagging, touching the top of her fat belly that protruded forward. I was shocked and confused, but didn’t want to show it. She walked closer toward me, stopping inches from my face. I turned my head away from her and looked down at the ground, I could feel her breathing against my skin. Without saying a word, she stuck out her tongue and began to lick my neck. It would’ve felt better if I hadn’t found her to be so repulsive. The more I tightened my mouth and clenched my jaw in anger, the more she licked me. Up to my face and across my lips, then down my chin and to my chest, just her clammy wet tongue. I started breathing heavily, wanting her to stop but wasn’t sure how. It was the quietest I had ever seen her.

“I knew those tits were perfect under there,” she growled before sucking my left nipple, attempting to fit my entire breast in her mouth. She squatted down in front of me and grabbed me by the hips roughly. She then took one hand and used it to spread my pussy lips apart. Having her down there reminded me of Katya– except I hoped she wouldn’t lick me. She stared at it for a moment, leaning in and smelling it.

“Mhhh, I haven’t had a pussy this young since my boys needed babysitters,” she said to herself. She puckered her lips and spit on it, spit all over my clit and around my lips. She followed the spit with multiple, hard, short slaps on my clit with her hand.

“Ahhh,” I winced in pain. It was mostly a shock, something about the pain in that spot made pleasure travel in waves up my spine and to my nipples.

“It hurts, huh?” she said sadistically and licked my clit, followed by a long rough suck, more spit and more short slaps.

“Ohhh, ohhh,” whimpered in pain and pleasure or both. I closed my eyes and pictured Katya between my legs while Mrs.Stevens sucked on it some more.

“Tell me you want me to stop and I’ll stop,” Mrs. Stevens said slyly between licks and slaps. I felt a pressure building in my clit like I never had before. “Tell me. Tell me what you want!” she demanded.

“Don’t– stop,” I breathed hesitantly, shocking even myself.

“What was that?” I saw her grin.

“Don’t stop,” I pushed her head closer to my pussy, “Please.”

She lowered her head further between my legs and ran her tongue from my vagina up toward my clit and then quickly got to her feet. She stared at me with small eyes and an open mouth– she seemed to have a pool of white fluid resting on her tongue. Before I could even blink, she jammed her tongue right in my mouth, unloading my own pussy juices in a big dump on my tongue.

“Taste yourself,” she said, pulling away and creating a trail of long sticky juice between our lips. I swallowed hard in one big gulp, mad that I had lost the great sensation. I just stared at her and breathed deeply. She yanked my arm and lead me toward the locker area and out of the row of showers. “Get on your knees,” she commanded, stopping at one of the small benches in between the lockers and releasing me harshly. I started to kneel in front of her slowly. “Now!” she yelled, pushing on my shoulders. She bent her knees a little, picked up her two big floppy breasts with both arms and rubbed them across my face; gently at first but then a little harder. “Suck on them.”

I didn’t look happy, I looked absolutely miserable and I think a big part of her enjoyed my misery. But, deep down, I loved breasts. I loved looking at them I loved touching my own. I imagined so many times what it would be like to suck on big, oversized breasts with little nipples. Now I had in front of me, huge, sloppy, white udders with big dvd sized areolas and almost inch long nipples and I couldn’t have been more excited to have them in my mouth.

She shoved one in, I can’t even remember which because she did it so forcefully. I closed my eyes and felt like a baby– a very hungry baby.

“Oooohh yeah, suck my big titties,” she moaned loudly. After what seemed like only a few seconds, she yanked that one out and shoved the other one in. She slapped my cheek several times lightly while my mouth was stuffed with her breast. “Yes, just like that. I love seeing you girls like that. Girls like you and Amber and your very mother tortured and pick on me mercilessly. Now look at you, you’re all mine. I control you, I own you,” she monologued. Jesus, was she fucked in the head. I was too busy focusing on that big soft tit in my mouth.

There was a sudden loud pounding on the locker room door.

“Jenna?! Jenna, are you okay?!” it was Scott’s voice. Mrs. Stevens removed herself from my mouth and pulled her bathing suit back over her shoulders quickly. I was completely frozen in place, on my knees and just staring at the pounding door.

“Get up!” Mrs. Stevens whispered tersely. I rose to my feet and a big wad of stickiness dripped down my leg from my soaked pussy. Scott continued to pound and knock as I rushed to my wet swimsuit and put it back on.

“I’m here!” I called out behind the door, I turned the latch and opened it.

“What happened? Where were you?” Scott asked with genuine worry.

“Just cleaning one of the back toilets.”

“Where’s Mrs. Stevens? Is she in here?” he whispered. I knew Mrs. Stevens could hear everything being said.

“No, she just left a little bit ago,” I lied.

“Oh, good,” he sighed with relief, “Samantha said she was being mean to the both of you. That crazy old bitch. What did she do?”

“Oh, uhm– nah, it wasn’t that bad. I thought no one was around so I tossed my wet clothes on the floor before my shower and she got mad and kinda snapped at us,” I lied again.

“What a psycho. Well, Sam won’t stop crying. Are you almost off? Can you come by when you’re done?”

“Uh, yeah. I should be wrapping up in like 20 minutes.”

“Alright, I’ll see you in a bit.”

I didn’t bother to watch him leave, instead hurried back inside to get my things together.

“God, you’re good,” Mrs. Stevens said standing near the showers, her voice made me cringe. I didn’t bother to look at her, I was mortified over what we had done. “You look so sweet and innocent,” she laughed, making my blood boil. “If only people knew how sick you are. You’re just like me.”

“The pool is closed now, Mrs. Stevens,” I said tersely and walked heavily toward the door. She rushed over to me and grabbed my arm.

“Don’t forget that I own you now!” she growled, inches from my face. I stared her down for several seconds defiantly. Eventually, she cracked a smile, “We’re going to have so much fun together, Jenna. You’ll see.”

***

“This is for all of your hard work this past week and a half,” Scott smiled at me in his living room, handing me an envelope.

“Oh, thanks,” I took it calmly and folded it into the back pocket of my jeans. “But you just gave me some cash yesterday with Samantha.”

“I know, I know– but you’ve done an amazing job and my little girl adores you. I think you’re fantastic and you keep this place pretty neat- – although you don’t have to.”

“Thanks,” I looked down to the ground, feeling my face get a little warm. “Scott, I was going to ask–”

“What’s up?”

“I have a thing on Friday. Amber wants to celebrate her birthday at a spa or something but then we’re going out later in the night.”

“Oh, yeah. You can be off that day for sure. Thanks for giving me the heads-up,” he responded.

“But, also– I wasn’t sure what to wear and I think you may know.”

“Where are you going?”

“Rio Lounge, it’s for teen night.”

“Ahh, yeah, I was there a few weeks ago. I didn’t know they did Teen Nights,” he looked at me a bit weird, I shrugged. “We can go to the mall and find you something hot, if that’s what you want. Tight and short.”

“Could you help me pick something? I have no idea about that stuff.”

“Yeah, for sure! Wanna…” he pulled out his cellphone to check the time, “Wanna go right now? The mall won’t close for a couple of hours.”

“Okay!”

“Alright, we’ll leave in 20. Let me grab a quick shower,” he said before heading off to his room, “See if you can get Samantha cheered up, she’s in her room, crying her eyes out.”

He was right. I found Samantha with her head buried in her pillow, she looked as if she were sleeping facedown, but I could see her little body moving with deep breaths. I closed and locked the door behind me and layed beside her in bed.

“Jenna!” she cheered, with tears in her eyes, and threw herself on top of me. “Are you okay?”

“Sam, are you okay? There’s nothing to be sad about. That was pretty crazy, right?” I tried to make it seem like it was no big deal.

“But she saw us. What did she do to you? Did she yell at you?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Stevens yelled at me and told me to never do it again.” I cradled her head to my chest, stroked her hair gently, and gave her a light kiss on the head. “You were very brave.”

“Did you– did you like what we did?” she climbed on top of me and propped herself up on my chest. I could only smile at her. “Did I taste like pee-pee?”

“What?” I laughed very hard, “No, no. You didn’t taste like pee. You were very yummy.”

“How was it? My… sticky.”

“Haha. You’re sticky? Well, it didn’t taste like much, just tastiness,” I squeezed her little ass. “We should get ready to head to the mall with your dad soon.” I pressed my lips to hers and she quickly slipped her tongue in my mouth.

“Jenna?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Can I taste you?”

 

Continue reading I Couldn’t Stop, Part Two »

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Honey Loves – Confessions of an Incestuous Mother, Chapter 1

  • Posted on September 16, 2016 at 1:58 pm

By eloquent delinquent

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

I suppose it should tip me off,the way she’s moving around in her booster seat in the back. Bianca’s not normally a fussy kid, and the chair’s new for her and I think maybe she’s just exploring her limits in it. Six-year-olds are always up to something. It’s raining on the way to the shopping center so I can’t look back. I say her name sharply a couple of times, but it hardly slows her down. When we park and I come around to get her out, one of her pink rubber boots is dangling.

“I know you don’t like the boots, honey, but you can’t take them off just because we’re in the car.” Raindrops spackle on my umbrella.

“Sorry, Momma,” she replies very sweetly. Tip off number two sails right past me. I guess I’m distracted, thinking of my lengthy to-do list.

“Can you get it back on?”

“Uh-huh.”

While she takes care of it, I look in the salon’s plate glass window. Thankfully, it’s not too busy. When I glance back down at her, she’s ready, so I unbuckle her, shelter her under the umbrella with me, and we scamper to the salon.

And she’s such an angel while she gets her holiday cut, charming the stylist with her coy demeanor, shy but just barely. When she’s done she’s all smiles, and my daughter is so adorable in her green tartan dress, her thick, straight brown hair cut square at the middle of her back, fresh bangs sheared neatly just a little above her delicate eyebrows. She got that hair from her father, but I like it better on her. When I help her get her gray wool coat on, she carefully scoops her hair out of her collar, swishing it slightly as it bounces down, enjoying the feel.

Good thing Thanksgiving’s on Thursday, because in a week Bianca will have mussed that hairdo irreparably, and it’ll be pony tails and braids until Christmas. But seeing her right now, so pretty and so happy, I know it’s still worth it.

I smile back at her. “Come on, Bon-bon, one more stop and we’re done.”

We walk through the puddles along the face of the shopping center to the supermarket, where she insists on being in the seat on the cart.

“Aren’t you getting a little old for that?”

“Please, Momma…”

And I relent, partly because she was so sweet and patient at the salon, and partly because I don’t want her running around loose in here. So I pack her in, and between her dress and her coat it takes some arranging, and in the end her coat comes off, gets piled in her lap, with most of it spilling over the handrail, the hem brushing the top of her wet boots.

I get out my list and we wheel down the aisles. It’s pretty crowded, even though it’s not even noon on a Sunday, but, you know, Thanksgiving. Bianca’s still in her happy mood, by turns preening proudly and feeling playful. She keeps holding my hands down with hers, trapping me when I’m about to reach up to pull something from the shelves, feisty, giggling.

I can’t help but laugh. “What’s gotten into you, Miss Silly?”

Bianca’s reply is to give me an aggressively silly smile, and it’s terribly cute. After I tug free the next time, she grabs the scoop neck of my blue sweater and pulls down, exposing my cleavage and a good amount of my teal bra before she gets her other hand on it and pulls me physically toward her. I almost drop my bag of pasta.

“What are you doing?!”

“Gimme kisses Momma!” she says excitedly.

Close to her face, I level a scolding look right into her eyes and sternly say, “Grabby girls don’t get kisses.”

She’s instantly repentant, releasing my collar, putting her hands on top of the coat in her lap. She ducks her head and gives me big, sorrowful eyes from under her feathery bangs. I let her stew, pretending to compare a couple labels. I put my choice in the cart, and she’s following me with her eyes.

When I start to push again, she says in a small voice, “I’m sorry Momma.”

“Because I got mad at you?”

Shaking her head, she replies, “Cause I shouldn’t be grabby.”

I put a finger under her chin and lift it. “That’s okay, honey. All better.”

She looks off to one side. “I just wanted kisses.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me nicely?”

At this, she looks back to me, melting me with her big wet brown eyes. “Please, Momma?”

I stop the cart. As I lean in, her eyelids drift closed, lips slightly parted like mine, and I give her three soft kisses on the mouth, our usual. She sighs. But when we part after the third kiss, I feel her little fingertips gently touch my jawline, urging me back, and she makes a tiny begging sound.

Opening my eyes, I look past the top of her head. There’s only three other people on the aisle, two are a couple heading away from us, the third is a woman bent over, checking dates on lids. I let my eyes close again, and let Bianca’s fingers guide me back to her mouth. Our lips meet, a bit firmer but still so soft. She moves her dainty mouth a bit and I follow along. This is more affection than I usually allow outside the house, and I’m sure she knows it. Her back arches in response to the pleasure, causing her to sit up. I know how she feels, as I grip the cart’s rail, my butt involuntarily lifting slightly. I ever so briefly touch the tiny wet tip of her six year old tongue with the tip of mine, and then pull away.

Bianca takes a deep breath and smiles up at me. I squint my eyes and grin lovingly back.

We move on, and my daughter gets quiet. All through the produce section, she seems thoughtful, but after I finish there she starts to fidget. A little at first, then more. By the time we get into the bakery, she looks pretty uncomfortable.

“You need to go potty, sweetheart?”

She shakes her head slowly, not even meeting my eye, distracted. I keep going. Maybe she’s bored. So I tell her, “We’ll be done soon, okay?”

She nods, just as absently. She’s still for a moment, then adjusts again. I turn back from the French rolls to see her looking at me a bit plaintively.

“What is it, Bianca?”

“Momma, could you give me honey loves?”

That gives me pause. We stare at each other for a second, the request hanging in the air between us. My cheeks feel warm, I might be blushing. Then I put the rolls into the cart as casually as I can manage. “You know honey loves are for private time, right?”

“I know…” she admits. “But, I wanted them before we left, but you were really busy and I didn’t ask ’cause you were really busy.”

My stomach flutters a bit, pulse quickening. And there’s a warming tingle, further down. God, I feel so awful for the way I react, but I can’t deny that I do. “So… you’ve been thinking about it all morning?”

She shrugs shyly. “Kinda.”

I start moving the cart again, smirking at her. “Kinda, huh?”

She rolls her eyes and blushes, adorably, then confesses. “Okay, a lot. A lot a lot.”

My smirk turns to a smile. This part of my daughter amazes me.

Bianca looks to her coat pocket, rummages around in it. We’re back by the dairy case, but I hold off getting the sharp cheddar until I see what she’s up to. She slowly draws her hand out, and for a second I see a stretch of white fabric with black stripes on it. Then, quickly, it disappears back into her pocket.

“Are those your tights?!”

She gives me an enormous, mischievous smile. “A lot a lot!”

It all falls together. “Is that what you were doing in the back seat, Bon-bon?”

She giggles hugely, shaking with it, and then lifts the hem of her coat and dress. Above the pink rubber rain boots, her legs are smooth and bare.

“You scamp!” I tease, and lean to get the cheese. On the way back up, I swoop up next to her head and place a hand between my mouth and her ear, a schoolgirl telling secrets, and whisper, “Such a naughty girl.”

She giggles again, and any more I’m not sure if it’s because she’s delighted at being called naughty, or because she knows she has her Mom turned on, or both.

I take in my situation. This is a consumer sanctuary, everyone wrapped up in their own little mission. Their eyes are on the products, on the shelves, not on each other. They see people as carts, obstacles to maneuver around on their way to the next thing. A young mother and her little girl, cart half full of stuff, what could we possibly be up to? Or so I’m convincing myself as my heart thumps high in my chest.

“You know we’re not at home, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

I start to push the cart, and surreptitiously reach under her coat and wrap my hand around the warm flesh of her calf above the boot, my index finger nestled in the crook of her knee. She starts, locks eyes with me, alert.

“You’ll have to be quiet, keep still. It has to be a secret, no matter what. You know that, right?”

“I can keep secrets, Momma.”

That’s for sure. “And you still want it? A lot a lot?”

Bianca fidgets again and now I can feel what she’s doing is spreading her knees wider. “I really really want you to. Gimme honey loves, Momma, please?”

I take in a deep breath to steel myself, knowing that I’m crossing a line with her, giving in to these tendencies in public. I told myself I’d never let it go this far, but that’s something I’ve told myself how many times before?

Truth is, I can’t help it any more than she can. Maybe I don’t want to. She’s been thinking about it all morning, trying to get me to notice, scheming in her impish way to make it happen. The tights in her pocket, so cute! She wants it so bad. How can I say no?

So, turning the cart and slowly wheeling our way up the ethnic foods aisle, I ease my hand up over her knee, smoothing up the inside of her thigh, deeper into the cozy, closely warm space created by coat and dress and the bare skin of an excited little girl. I caress back and forth up her leg, savoring the sensation of her flesh, plush and firm at the same time. Her skin is so fine, silky. Working my wrist through the leg divider of the cart seat is a little awkward, but I make sure my fingertips never lose contact with her body, it’s too delicious. And now I’m stroking the impossibly soft juncture between her thigh and her smooth little sex.

She squirms a bit, happily frustrated by my teasing. I can see her chest rising and falling. She breathes with her mouth open, lips upturned slightly at the corners, and inside I see her little tongue slipping around, as if she’s trying to control my fingers with it.

I draw my touch slowly across her lower tummy, between her immature mound and her navel, and settle in to rub the crease of her other leg.

“Momma…” Bianca begs, starting to quiver.

Stopping the cart in front of a selection of sesame oils, I hold up my list with my free hand and turn to it. But I glance sidelong at my daughter’s face as I place my index and ring fingers to either side of her puffy vulva and press, parting her cunt. Then I ease the pad of my middle finger into the soft, hot, wet confines of her tiny pussy. It’s a snug fit.

That first touch is so electric, so delectable, we both sigh and melt a little.

I gently slide through her tender folds, moving her wetness around, slicking her up, and her expression opens up into pure joy. Her breath catches for a long second, eyes sparkling, and I nod at her slowly as I glide up and down her luscious little slit, giving her a sly, affectionate grin.

I start pushing the cart again and she’s jolted out of her reverie, but when she realizes my pleasuring fingers aren’t leaving the damp little treat of her quim, she relaxes into it and coos, eyelids dreamily drooping, content to receive the honey loves she’s been longing for all morning.

As I softly, secretly masturbate my six year old daughter, we drift down the aisles. Exploring her creamy pussy with my loving finger, I can’t help picturing how her sex looks, tiny and bare and pouting and pretty… which in turn reminds me of the other little girl pussies I’ve seen. I know I’m a pervert, but I’ve been one forever. What’s happening with my little girl was probably inevitable, given the kind of person I am.

I’ve been sexual as long as I can recall. One of my earliest vivid memories was standing in the big sunny backyard at my grandparents’ place, as my Mom gently took my wrist and pulled my hand out from underneath my Easter dress. I looked up as she made embarrassed apologies to my glaring Aunt Ruth. I must’ve been younger than Bianca is now, and I remember feeling frustrated, and that Aunt Ruth was a stiff-lipped meanie, but not ashamed. Soon I stopped doing it, mostly because my Mom would pull my diddling fingers away from my delighted weewee every time she caught me, usually with an exasperated, “Alli-son…” and I got the picture that those touches were a no-no.

But I think that only made me more curious. I heard my name said in that drawn-out way a lot as a kid, “Alli- son…” but usually it ended with girlishly demure giggle as another playmate took off their pants for me. I had an insatiable desire to see the privates of anyone I took a liking to, and I got good at finding secret spots, and the art of convincing. It always helped that I was willing to show mine first.

Boys were easy, a lot had boners before they even agreed, after looking at me half-naked. And gazing at their jutting little peckers made me so gleeful I think I clapped a couple of times while I looked at them. I was so tempted to touch one, fascinated by the thought of what a dick felt like when it was so hard like that, but I never did. Boys my own age were a little scary and I always worried they would brag or tell, so I picked ones a year or two younger than me, and they were usually happy to play. And even if they were just six or seven, their little dicks got so stiff I suspected I could’ve stood tiptoe on the tip of one like a diver.

The girls were more tricky, which only made me more desperate to see their bald little muffs. I learned the combinations of flattery, cajoling, and tantalizing that melted their resistance and made them strip. There was lots of giggling involved with our undressing, and some half-hearted protesting, usually just my name, “Alli- son…” And then I would squat in front of them and gaze up enraptured by their childish charms. Each pussy was a little different, but I loved them all.

Some of the braver girls would insist on inspecting my little pussy too, and I was happy to comply. Some girls wanted to kiss, and that was really special, playful smooches as our naked bodies brushed against each other. Every new girl was her own adventure, and I always felt so clever every time I talked another playmate into shyly pulling down her panties for me, using their own naughty curiosity to overcome their modesty.

Now we’re cruising by the fridge cases, and despite my focus on my memories, my caressing fingertip, and Bianca’s sexual response, it occurs to me I need frozen pie shells and blueberries. I find the the shells, and by kind of circling to the corner of the cart, I’m able to reach in, get the shells, and toss them in with my other stuff without even pausing in my service to her delicate puss.

I come back around and glance at Bianca. Her eyes are unfocused and half-open, and though it’s completely concealed I can feel her pelvis beginning to instinctively rock against my hand in a gentle hump motion. She’s blissed out by her Momma’s honey loves. I’m not even sure she’s aware I’m doing anything other than fingering her.

A prankish thought sails into my head, watching her as I approach the frozen blueberries. And as it is with so much in my life, it’s like I can’t help myself. I casually position the cart the way I want it, so that my daughter is angled almost facing the freezer. Her bliss bubble pops as my hand withdraws from her slippery slit, her eyes flashing wide open in an expression halfway between pleading and accusing. But I’m already moving, and in one swift motion I open the glass freezer door partway, use my recently naughty hand to lift Bianca’s coat and skirt, and step deftly to one side.

With me blocking the way, almost all the frigid air is channeled straight at Bianca, wafting right up her lifted skirt between her bare, spread thighs and onto her overheated little sex. Her six year old face is comically surprised – mouth a wide ‘O’, eyebrows disappearing up into her bangs. She tries to close her legs, but the cart’s divider won’t let her. She parts them and squeezes, parts them and squeezes, squirming. But now I see, at the corners of her eyes and mouth, the telltale signs of laughter.

And suddenly it bursts out of her, a big piercing peal of fun, and I drop her clothes back over the rail and grab the berries as quickly as I can while she recovers.

The plastic bag flops into our cart, the door thunks shut. Bianca’s still giggling, almost bouncing in the seat.

“Mom-ma!” she giggles, reminding me of my own childhood naughtiness.

Everyone in the aisle has turned to look. I smirk and shush her and whisk us out of there, to the comparative anonymity of organic foods a little ways down. The aisle’s momentarily deserted. She looks at me with a disbelieving smile.

“What did you think of that?” I ask.

“Funny! But sooo cold!” she responds playfully. “I’m still all shivery down there.”

“Poor Bon-Bon, is your little bonbon chilly?” I babytalk, then I slip my index finger in my mouth and suck, working my tongue against it, warming it up.

She nods, but her eyes are fixed on my pursed lips. Removing my finger, I murmur, “I think I can make it better for little bonbon…”

Bianca takes a gasp in anticipation and spreads her knees very wide as my hand disappears under her coat again. My knuckles glide up her goosepimply thigh, wiggle past the cart’s divider, and with intuitive aim my warm, spit-slicked fingertip settles into the cool, moist plushness of her cunt. She jerks softly at the contact, my heated touch radiating into her. Her pretty eyes roll up, and she quietly moans, “ohhhhhh…”

Pushing the cart again, I return to stroking up and down her smooth little slit, a little quicker than before, and almost instantly the heat down there is all hers. We round the corner and Bianca’s head lolls forward. She holds the rail and raises her knees slightly, urging me to continue.

Like I could stop. I’m as turned on as she is. I wonder if she understands that, but she probably does. I know at some point she’ll enter a modesty phase, all girls do. So I savor these moments as best I can, because I never want to make my little girl uncomfortable with herself or her body. Obviously, that point hasn’t come yet. And I find myself reveling in her pleasure and her girlish demands, suspecting she’s very aware of my arousal.

Continue on to Chapter 2

 

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More Than Just Friends, Chapter 17

  • Posted on September 14, 2016 at 5:56 pm

By Jeneee

Jacqueline was on my mind as we drove home in the busy, late Saturday afternoon traffic. I kept seeing the array of paintings her mother had done of her, and realized why Maggie and Karen had selected the ones they had to display on the gallery walls.

One thing was certain – Jacqueline wasn’t at all shy when it came to posing. The other thing that was immediately obvious was the sensual beauty of her young body – firm, but soft,  her skin color glowing, radiating with the joy of her adolescence captured so perfectly by her talented mother. Her long, dark hair delicately caressed her curves as it flowed across her breasts — teasing her dark, pointed nipples so that they protruded proudly — or coursed over a shoulder and down her back, almost reaching the cleft between her beautiful butt cheeks.

The sly smile on her face in some of the more daring poses seemed to invite the viewer to join her in an intimate encounter – ‘just you and I,’ she seemed to be saying with her eyes. ‘Please, let me join your collection. I promise you won’t be disappointed.’

Her paintings spoke volumes about her nature, and even more about the skill of her mother for being able to capture the essence of her daughter’s sensuality – overt to be sure, but not in a slutty way. I was anxious to learn more about her and her mother, and found myself hoping we would be compatible. I had also noticed Becky eying Jacqueline, while trying not to look obvious, and hoped they, too, would hit it off since they were so close in age. And I knew that my daughter and Pam would probably keep barraging her with questions and comments, so I hoped she’d accept their youthful curiosity in good humor.

Armed with three large pizzas smothered with various toppings, we soon arrived at our house. I collected a pile of plates as Susan scrounged for a few extra chairs to place around our kitchen table and before long, all of us had squeezed together to enjoy the delights of dinner in preparation for whatever other delightful adventures awaited us once our stomachs had been filled.

I wanted to know more about Marilyn, so I asked her how long she had been painting. “Pretty well all my life, I guess. I used to love messing around with finger painting as a young girl, but really only started drawing seriously when I was in high school. Then at college I studied fine art and began to think of making it a career. But after I graduated I got married almost immediately, became pregnant with Jacqueline and sort of slacked off for a while. Being a mom and a home-maker came first, and it wasn’t until she started kindergarten that I began to get back to my art while she was at school. I’d always liked painting portraits, and it soon became pretty obvious that I had a perfect subject in my daughter,” she smiled, looking over at Jacqueline who took a sitting-down bow, spreading her arms wide as Emily giggled from across the table.

“So was she always naked right from the start?” my outspoken daughter wanted to know.

Marilyn laughed. “No, dear. First I concentrated on getting her face to look realistic, so most of my early drawings of her were just head and shoulders. One day after school, though, she went to her room to change into her favorite shorts and top but couldn’t find them. They were still in the wash and she came out of her room in her undies with a frown on her face looking for them. She looked so cute standing there with her hands on her hips, almost looking daggers at me when I explained where they were. I told her not to move – I wanted to capture the moment on canvas. So that was the first time I’d done a full body piece of her, frown and all. It’s still a favorite in my portfolio.

“When my husband came home from work and saw it he remarked that it was cute, and then teased me that I was branching out into child porn. Later in the evening when Jacqueline was on her way to bed she jumped on his lap for her customary good-night kiss and to my astonishment he pulled up her nightie, turned her around so she was facing me, and spread her legs open revealing her cute panties and dared me to use that as the next pose. Jacqueline, you just giggled and said, ‘yeah, Mommy, draw me like this next time.’ Remember?”

“Yeah, I’ll never forget the look on your face when he did that. I thought you were gonna yell at him at first, but then you just laughed and shooed me off to bed.”

“So, did you? Did you do one of her like that?” Emily piped in.

“I came home from school next day and instead of getting changed like I usually did, I came out in my panties and sat on the stool mom used to pose me and spread my legs, all ready for her. In my innocence I wanted her to draw one for my dad like he’d asked for,” Jacqueline recalled.

“So, did she?” my daughter pressed on eagerly.

“I didn’t really have much choice,” Marilyn laughed. “She’d taken her father so seriously that I didn’t want to disappoint her, even though I’d thought he had been joking, so I did a charcoal of her in those cute pussycat panties of hers. After I was finished she darted over right away to look at it and said it looked like her pussycat was smiling. ‘She’s a happy pussy ’cause daddy’s gonna like it mommy,’ she said, and I laughed to myself at the double meaning of her innocent remark.

“And she was right, he did love it. Even asked me to frame it. It was quite a provocative pose for a six year old so I framed it myself. No way I was going to take it out to be done,” she smiled. “And we hung it on the wall in our bedroom. And that was really the first of what turned out to be my little girl’s career as an erotic model.”

“Do you just model for your mommy?” Emily wanted to know.

“Usually, yes; and for her classes, of course. But once in a while I pose for other artists. Like Maggie, for instance,” she added, looking over at Karen’s sister, smiling.

“Oooo, can we see some of the paintings you’ve done of her sometime, Maggie?” my curious daughter asked in her hard to refuse, pleading tone. “Puleese,” she added. “Are they really sexy too?” she asked as an afterthought.

“They are artistic, dear, and if you think that’s sexy then I suppose you may have a point,” Maggie replied, smiling slyly. “And yes, I suppose you can see them next time you come to my house. I don’t keep them at the gallery, but maybe someday we’ll hang them — that is, as long as Jacqueline and her mom agree.”

Turning to Marilyn, Emily suggested she should have a special showing of paintings and drawings of Jacqueline because “she is sooo beautiful, don’t you think?”

“You just want to see her naked again,” Marilyn teased.

To which Emily responded quickly, “Well, we’re all going to be naked together in the hot tub soon anyway, so yeah. And when do you want to draw me and Pam for your new series?” she added.

“Slow down, Emily,” I told my daughter. “One thing at a time, sweetie. I know you want your pussies to be on display for the whole world to see, but Marilyn hasn’t even confirmed she will use the two of you yet, so stop trying to pressure her. She has her own working schedule to consider. And as for all of us squeezing into the hot tub together, I’m not even sure there will be enough room.”

“We can sit real close,” giggled Pam. “It could be fun,” she added with a smirk, jabbing her sister with her elbow. “Right, Becky? I know what’s on your mind, big sister,” she added, glancing coyly over at Jacqueline.

And so it was. All those soft naked female bodies crowded together in the hot tub that afternoon was another first for our household as our circle of friends grew to include yet another sensual family who were soon participating in one of the wildest orgies I could have ever imagined.

Just for the record, Emily did more than just see Jacqueline naked again. Her tireless tongue sampled the delightful taste of the treasure between her teenage thighs, as Becky waited her turn, while Marilyn probed Pamela’s more than puffy pussy, giving her the much needed personal touch necessary to enable her to capture the fullness of its beauty on canvass when the time came.

Who am I kidding? Nobody was thinking about art that afternoon. We were all just plain horny – and we didn’t even need the jets.

Six months have now passed since that incredible day. Some of what happened during those six months is now on display at The Gallery Of Friends. However, as you might imagine, invitations are mandatory for admission.

Continue on to Chapter 18

 

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More Than Just Friends, Chapter 18

  • Posted on September 14, 2016 at 5:55 pm

By Jeneee

“Mommy, Mommy, it’s here, it’s here!” yelled my daughter as she barged into the kitchen side door after visiting our mailbox at the end of the driveway, the screen door banging loudly behind her. In her hand she waved a large, pink envelope and, with a big grin on her face, proclaimed, “It’s gotta be the invitation. See? It’s from the gallery,” and she thrust the envelope into my hand. “Open it, quick, open it, it must be the invitation!” she urged breathlessly, jumping up and down in her excitement.

She just can’t wait to see her pussy on public display, I thought to myself with a smile.

What a daughter I have. It was the moment she had been waiting for, well, that we’d all been waiting for, actually. Several weeks ago both Emily and Pam, along with Becky, had spent a fun afternoon at Marilyn’s home studio, posing their pussies to be included in the artist’s latest series – From Kitty To Cunt – which featured paintings and drawings of the female sex organ as it matured from the puffy pudenda of infancy to the mature vulva of adulthood.

All in the name of art, of course; but dear reader, knowing my daughter as well as you do by now, it doesn’t take much imagination on your part to visualize the afternoon progressing from a posing session to a full-blown erotic encounter, particularly following the all-out orgy that erupted during the hot tub party at our place following our initial meeting with the artist and her daughter, Jacqueline, after we’d first visited the gallery. And you’d be correct.

We’d all arrived at the artist’s studio in great anticipation that day, both Emily and Pamela freshly showered and full of excitement at the thought of finally being added to her new series of paintings. Becky, on the other hand, had tried to be nonchalant about the whole thing, treating it as just another day, but inwardly she, too, was looking forward to — as Emily had precociously expressed many times – adding her cunt to the collection, particularly since Jacqueline’s would be part of it, too. Over the past six months she and the artist’s daughter had become close friends, lovers now in fact, and it would be so cool, she thought, for both of their pussies to appear side by side when the showing opened.

Marilyn had posed Pamela first, who took great pleasure in pulling apart her more than adequate labia, exposing the bright pink interior of her pussy as well as her prominent clit so that Marilyn could see everything clearly. In doing so the little girl had naturally lubricated quite liberally, a condition which the artist had captured perfectly on canvass making for a very delicious depiction of her arousal.

Emily, true to form, couldn’t resist kneeling between Pam’s spread thighs after Marilyn declared the painting finished, and with the artist and the rest of us watching breathlessly, had licked her girlfriend to an enormous climax which Marilyn had quickly sketched, capturing both Emily’s tongue between Pam’s engorged lips and the orgasmic, delightful expression on Pam’s face as she exploded in ecstasy.

By the time Emily was ready to pose she, too, was, as you might well imagine, soaking wet, her labia swollen, which Marilyn was also able to capture expertly in her pastel, following which Pam returned the favour, bringing my daughter off to a screeching climax, also rendered perfectly on canvas by the artist.

Waiting for her turn, Becky, panties down to her ankles as Jacqueline stood beside her priming her exquisite pussy, couldn’t help but orgasm as they both watched Pam and Emily. She was therefore quite ready for the image of her now inflamed cunt to be preserved forever by her girlfriend’s mother.

Following that, the afternoon became filled with the sounds of erotic pleasure as all of us had become aroused by the goings on and now joined in the fun, relaxing in languid luxury afterward until someone, I forget who, whispered “Pizza, anyone?” which produced a raucous round of giggles from our young charges.

Now, taking the envelope from Emily’s outstretched hand, I glanced at the return address – The Gallery Of Friends – and knew she was probably correct. There would be no other reason for Maggie and Karen’s gallery to be writing to us. Tearing open the envelope I withdrew the shiny sheet inside and read out loud to my excited daughter, “You and your family are invited to attend a special private showing of a new series of works by artist Marilyn Ellington at our gallery on Friday evening, October 24th, at 7 p.m. Dress is casual and refreshments will be served. Please RSVP.”

“I wonder if any of the pussy-licking paintings she did that day will be included in the showing?” my daughter asked, a big, sly grin on her pretty face.

“Don’t count on it, you voyeuristic little slut,” I replied, ruffling her hair. “Those are private pictures, for our eyes only,” I added. “The show is risqué enough as it is. That’s why it’s by personal invitation only. And you’ll notice there is no mention of the title of the show in the invitation, either — just in case it falls into the wrong hands,” I added.

“I can’t wait to tell Sharon,” said Emily, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. “She should be home soon. Mommy?” she continued after a slight pause, throwing her arms around my waist and looking up into my eyes, a serious expression on her face.

“What, honey?” I asked.

“Why didn’t you and Sharon model your pussies for the series, too? Then we’d all be there, like one big family of cunts,” she giggled.

“Silly girl,” I replied. “Marilyn already had enough adult pussies in the collection. She didn’t need any more.”

“Yeah, but yours is so pretty, Mommy,” she smiled up at me, sliding one of her hands down from my waist and slipping it between my cheeks from behind, moving her slim fingers softly over my pussy as she hugged me tightly with her other arm. “I love you, Mommy,” she whispered into my breasts as I felt myself rapidly reacting to her touch. “I love you for letting Pam and Becky come to live with us when they had nowhere else to go, and for everything you and Sharon did to help them. None of this would have happened if you’d refused to help, and who knows what would have become of them. You and Sharon have to be the bestest mommies in the whole, wide world.” She looked up at me adoringly, and I was surprised to see tears forming in her eyes.

I hugged her back fiercely, feeling my own eyes starting to tear up in response. “And I love you too, sweetheart. You are the bestest daughter a mother could ever want, you know that, don’t you? Sharon and I are so proud of you for the way you behave, for your honesty about the way you feel and for the uninhibited way you express your feelings – just like you are doing now, sweetie.”

I bent down as her hand slowly slipped away from between my thighs, and kissed her gently on her soft, warm lips, closing my eyes, and relishing the love that only a mother and daughter can understand. Our tongues soon intermingled and the gentle kiss soon became more and more urgent as we slowly made our way, lips still locked, to the nearby couch which had seen many a hot encounter, this one characterized by deep feelings of earnest love as our arousal grew and grew. Faces flushed, we threw caution to the wind and proceeded to devour each other with a passion I think neither of us knew we had within us.

After it was over and we relaxed together on the couch in each other’s arms, somewhat disheveled, I thought to myself as I looked at my sweet Emily, still flushed with excitement, My daughter, my lover. And I found myself suddenly thinking of my husband and, strange as it may seem, thanking him for what he did to us, realizing that if it hadn’t been for him, I never would have learned the real joy it was for a mother to experience the fullness of love that was possible with her daughter. And with Sharon, too, I thought with a smile as I heard the front door unlock.

“She’s home,” screeched Emily, as she jumped up and quickly looked around for the invitation, finding it still on the floor where we had dropped it.

My girlfriend walked into the room and suddenly stopped, taking in our disheveled state. “Well, what’s been going on here?” she asked, a slight smile spreading across her face as Emily ran up to her, still naked, waving the invitation in her face.

“Oh, Mommy and me were celebrating,” she explained, breathlessly, “’cause the invitation came. It came, Sharon, look!”

“I see,” Sharon replied, looking askance at me. “And it looks like it wasn’t alone,” she commented with a smirk on her face.

“Huh?” Emily managed, a puzzled look on her face.

“I mean,” added Sharon, grasping Emily by the shoulders, “it looks like it wasn’t the only thing that came.”

“Oh,” said Emily, grinning, suddenly realizing Sharon’s meaning. “Well, we were celebrating, like I said,” she giggled. “We got the invitation to the new showing at the gallery, see?”

Sharon took the sheet that Emily was waving in front of her face, read it quickly, and with a smile said, “Well, now you don’t have to wait much longer, honey — to see yourself displayed in public, I mean.”

“Well, not really in public,” I commented. “It’s a private showing,” I added. “But as you can see, our little girl is excited about it,” I winked at my girlfriend. Sharon came over to me, giving me her customary hello kiss, cupping my still wet pussy in her hand.

“And I see she’s not the only one who’s excited,” she murmured, teasingly.

I returned her kiss and whispered, “We were having a mommy-daughter moment; well, more than a moment,” I giggled.

Sharon hugged me tightly. “Ain’t love wonderful?” she commented.

“What’s for dinner?” my daughter suddenly chimed in. “I’m hungry.”

Sharon turned to look at her. “Yeah, sex does give you an appetite, doesn’t it?” And we all burst into laughter. “I think I’d better get undressed. I’m feeling out of place here,” she added with a smile.

Emily threw her arms around my girlfriend. “You’ll never be out of place here, Sharon. You’re my other mommy,” she added, her eyes shining. “Pasta, anyone?”

Continue on to Chapter 19

 

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More Than Just Friends, Chapter 19

  • Posted on September 14, 2016 at 5:55 pm

By Jeneee

That evening Emily chatted on the phone with Pam for at least half an hour. Sharon and I overheard bits and pieces of the conversation – which was punctuated by occasional giggles and shrieks – as we sat on the couch with our after-dinner coffee, but we didn’t really pay much attention. We knew Emily would fill us in if anything interesting had happened lately. They were more than likely discussing the upcoming showing of their ‘femininity’ at the art gallery, both dying to see themselves hanging on the wall along with all the other models Marilyn had painted in the new series.

On another note, we were also thrilled that Becky had finally found herself a girlfriend, and even more delighted knowing that it was Jacqueline, Marilyn’s gorgeous eighteen year old daughter. We suspected there was a past history there with her family that we hadn’t yet learned about, and we were really curious about what had happened with her father, who apparently wasn’t a part of her life any more – at least, as far as we knew.

I suspected that Becky probably knew more about it now, and wondered if the situation was similar to that which had transpired between Becky and her own father. Both Sharon and I agreed that eventually the story would come out, all in good time, so we weren’t about to pry.

After she hung up the phone, Emily came running back into the room and joined us on the couch, snuggling up between us, wearing only her panties as usual. This had quickly become the traditional mode of dress around our household in the past year, Sharon and myself included, at Emily’s insistence. Our boobs were always on display and my daughter loved grabbing her own nipples — which now had developed the puffy bloom typical of a budding young girl – and pulling them out for us to demonstrate how she was growing.

“Well?” we both asked in unison after she’d kissed each of us on the lips. I added, “What’s new with your girlfriend? It sounded like you were a little excited in there.”

“Probably having phone sex,” teased Sharon.

“Were not,” replied Emily, sticking her tongue out at her. “We were trying to decide what to wear for the showing at the gallery. And Pam said her mom told her that everyone’s been invited, everyone who posed, I mean. Even their families – moms and dads and brothers and sisters, so it’s gonna be crowded if everyone comes,” she giggled. “We’ll all be famous and in demand, Becky told Pam.”

“In demand?” I questioned, raising my eyebrows. “In demand for what?”

“Well, you know, like as models for anyone who wants us. I think that’s what she meant, anyway.”

“What, from just seeing your pussies?” Sharon teased. “More like being in demand for an up close, personal look if you ask me,” she added with a smirk on her face.

Emily laughed. “Yeah, that’s what Pammy said too. She said we should wear just short skirts and no panties to the gallery so if anyone asks we can show them our cunts and prove it was us in the paintings,” she giggled. “What do you think, Mommy? Should we?”

My exhibitionist little girl, I thought to myself. “And you’d probably do it too, wouldn’t you?” I asked. She nodded, a big grin on her face. “What if it was a father or a brother who asked? Would you show yourself off to a man, you little slut?” I demanded. Here was new territory to explore and Sharon and I looked at each other as we waited in anticipation for her answer.

“I asked Pammy that too,” she giggled in response, “and guess what she said.” We waited in silence, expectantly.

When neither of us said anything she finally blurted out, “Well, she said she would do it, show off her cunt, I mean. Just to see what kind of reaction she’d get. She wanted to see if they’d get a bulge in their pants from seeing her pussy for real. That’s when I screamed in there and you probably wondered what was going on,” she laughed, looking back and forth from one of us to the other for some kind of reaction.

Sharon told her that we thought she’d come or something when we heard her. Out came the tongue again, as my girlfriend smirked back at her.

“Nooo,” she replied, somewhat indignantly. “Becky finally told Pam everything about her daddy and how he played with her at home and then at their club when Pammy was sleeping, and that his cock – that’s what she called it, anyway – got real big and hard when he saw her playing with her pussy the first time he caught her that night in her bedroom. And then it got even harder when she held it like he asked her to do – part of her education he told her. So she wants to see if that happens to all guys. She wants to see a real, live cock for herself, she told me.

“That’s when I told her Marilyn’s mommy should do another series of paintings showing cocks as they grow bigger from babies to men. And we started giggling imagining what could happen in the studio and if boy’s and men’s cocks would get all hard like her daddy’s did when they were posing for a woman artist.”

“We wondered what all the screeching was about,” I said, realizing that it was probably about time that we filled Emily in on the male side of the sexual equation – I remember my own mother calling it that when such things were explained to me. Because of our out and out female relationships over the past couple of years, this aspect of my daughter’s sexual education had been somewhat lacking. Or completely neglected, really, I had to admit to myself.

It was now apparent to me that Becky – finally choosing now to clue her younger sister in on what had actually happened between her and her father — had revealed another aspect in Emily’s life that needed to be dealt with. Now that my little girl was approaching eleven years of age, and continuing to develop quite rapidly, the time had come to make sure she understood all about guys and the way most of them think about girls.

Telling us about her conversation with Pam seemed possibly to be her way of asking us for more information, I surmised. I already knew how she felt about her own father and what he did to us – she was really hurt at the time. But that’s in the past for her now, as it was for me. She now needs to be prepared for boys at school coming on to her, and how to deal with them, especially if she discovers she actually liked one.

I suddenly realized I may have to learn how to deal with that, too. After all, even though we know she quickly discovered her fondness for girls when Pam entered our lives, that doesn’t necessarily mean she is a lesbian, nor Pam either for that matter. They could both turn out to be bisexual like I was – and I say ‘was’ because it’s been so long since I have been with a man, my ex-husband being the last, that I can’t see myself ever wanting to go in that direction ever again. Sharon and I were deeply in love and right now I felt that it would last forever. My little girl, however, was still too young to know which way her sexuality would eventually develop, given the opportunity to fully explore her feelings, and I just wanted to make sure she would be prepared for any eventuality.

“So, do you think she’d do that kinda series?” Emily asked us.

“Don’t know sweetie, but she seems more into painting the female form. I guess you can always ask Jacqueline for her opinion when you see her at the gallery,” Sharon suggested.

“And I suppose you’d love to see paintings like that?” I teased my daughter. And for the first time I can remember, she actually blushed. My precocious little Emily blushed as if she had been caught red handed. There was definitely another dimension developing within her – a curiosity about the male sex organ.

“Is that a blush I see on your pretty face?” asked Sharon, who also noticed the effect my question had had on Emily. She spluttered, and turned even redder, covering her face with her hands while shaking her head from side to side.

“So Pam told you she wants to see a real live cock, is that right? Does that mean you do too?” I pressed, stroking her hair. “There’s nothing wrong with that, sweetie,” I told her. “It’s normal for a girl your age to be curious.” She uncovered her eyes and looked at me, then over at Sharon, a smile now beginning to develop on her face.

“Then you don’t think we’re weird, me and Pammy?” she asked, sounding a bit relieved.

“Of course not, sweetheart,” Sharon assured her. “After all, half the people in the world have cocks, so it’s not like it’s a rare thing, you know.”

Emily looked at her as if she was trying to decide whether Sharon was teasing her again, but concluded she wasn’t. “Pammy said Becky told her it hurt the first time her daddy put his cock inside her, but then she said she started to get really wet, and then it didn’t hurt as much. And she even got to like it after a while. She even almost told Pam about it after they started playing with each other but decided not to, thinking it might scare her. It was only after her mommy found out about it from Pammy’s aunt that she began to realize it had been bad for him to do that, and then she said she felt ashamed that it had felt good after a while. She was really mixed up, Pam said. She didn’t understand why her mommy got mad at her instead of at her daddy. Did it hurt you the first time too, Mommy? What about you, Sharon?”

Well, here we go, I thought to myself, catching Sharon’s eye. And the next half an hour saw Emily’s introduction to the world of heterosexual relationships, in technicolor – as Emily commented when she later told Pam about her mommy-daughter talk, or in this case her mommy-mommy-daughter talk – nothing held back, no questions left unanswered. I even learned a bit more about my girlfriend in the process – about her first time with a boy, which turned out to be her last. She realized she was a lesbian in her early teens.

And after our little talk with Emily was all over? Wait for it…

“Mommy, would you fuck me with that dildo you and Sharon use? So I can see what it feels like? Puleease?” The shocked looks on our faces brought a fit of giggles from my daughter. We had no idea she knew about our favorite double-header which we kept hidden in my underwear draw in our bedroom.

“You little sneak,” I scolded her. “You’ve been nosing around in my dresser. That’s not very nice, you know.”

“I was just looking for one of your thongs, just to try it on for Pammy to see, and we kinda came across it, that’s all,” she explained, a guilty look on her fac. “You were in the shower so we snuck into your room, but then you turned off the water so we had to leave in a hurry before we could get a real good look at it. She knew all about it though ’cause Becky has one,” she giggled. “So, will you? Fuck me with it?” And her hand slipped inside her panties to rub herself. “All this talk about cocks has made me horny,” she added.

Sharon winked at me. “I’ll go get it,” she told us, getting up from the couch. And I knew what she was thinking. One good look at the size of our plaything would probably discourage Emily, and give her second thoughts.

My daughter hugged me, cupping one of my breasts and bouncing it a little in her hand. “Is it really gonna hurt, Mommy?” she asked, and I wondered how long it would take her to change her mind once she saw the size of the dildo.

I slid my hand alongside hers inside her panties and wiggled a finger into her wet pussy. “Your little cunt is probably too small, sweetie, so I don’t think it will fit inside you; and yes, it would probably hurt even just to try,” I replied. “Let’s take these off,” I said, tugging at the waist of her panties and starting to pull them down. She stood up so that I could slide them down her long, slim legs, and then I kissed her pretty mound which had recently started to sprout a few fuzzy pubes.

“Yours too, Mommy,” she smiled, and I let her do the same to me, leaving us both naked as Sharon returned, twirling the double dildo around in the air with a big grin on her face.

“Here it is,” she announced, “and I also brought some of this,” she added, showing us the bottle of lubricant in her other hand. “Down on the floor, you little tramp,” she commanded Emily. “You’re about to be fucked,” she added. “With this big cock,” she emphasized, bringing it close to my daughter’s face so she could get a good look at it. “Still want to go ahead, slut?” she questioned, imagining that her dominant strategy would soon change my daughter’s mind. But Emily just nodded.

She knelt down between Emily’s outstretched legs and rubbed the head of the dildo against her wet pussy, spreading her lips so she could feel the bulk of the weapon against her soft flesh. I was watching my daughter’s face and she didn’t even flinch. I took the bottle of lubricant from Sharon’s hand and squeezed some of its contents into my palm and, grabbing the dildo from my girlfriend, I dipped one of the heads into the creamy mixture, lubricating it well, and as they both watched, slid it inside my own pussy and waggled it obscenely over Emily’s face. She giggled.

I watched Sharon shrug and bend down closer to our little girl’s pussy, spreading it wider and lapping at it with her tongue. Emily’s eyes closed as she wrapped her legs around my girlfriend’s neck and humped up toward her.

I knelt down beside Emily’s face and with one hand slid the other end of the dildo over her lips. Feeling it on her face she opened her eyes once more and, wrapping a hand around the shaft, she slid her tongue sensuously over the large head and then opened her mouth wide so she could spread her lips around it. With her mouth now full she moaned as Sharon continued to lick her pussy, feeling the little bud harden as my daughter’s arousal grew.

“Ready to get fucked, sweetie?” I whispered.

With her mouth still full she grunted, nodding her head as best she could. I plopped the head of the dildo from her mouth and crawled on my knees down to where Sharon was still feasting on our little girl’s sopping cunt. Lifting her head away, my girlfriend spread Emily’s creamy pussy wide, opening up the dark pink interior at which we both now stared, doubting this would go much further.

Once again I poured a generous amount of lubricant into my palm, rubbing it over the end of the dildo that would soon be introduced to Emily for the first time. Now it was Sharon’s turn to move over to the young girl’s face where she bent down and kissed her firmly on her lips.

“Get ready, slut. You’re about to be fucked, just like you wanted,” she whispered as she pulled back from the kiss, watching as I pushed the head of the dildo between my daughter’s lips.

No way, I thought to myself. There’s no way this will fit. But as that thought passed through my mind Emily thrust up hard against the tip, as if urging it inside.

Sharon shifted so that her pussy was over Emily’s face. “Eat my cunt while you’re being fucked, you little slut.” And as she settled down on my daughter’s mouth, Emily reached up and grabbed her hips, pulling Sharon tightly against her.

I pushed a little harder, watching in amazement as Emily’s pussy started to yield to the pressure being applied to it. Her lips spread wider, puffing up obscenely as the head started to work its way inside her. As she moaned into Sharon’s pussy she raised her hips up even higher, encouraging the dildo to probe deeper. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing as I wrapped my hands around the shaft and urged it, as gently as I could, further and further into her. My own pussy was soaking wet, the other end of the dildo as deep as it could possible go inside me.

Emily was now squealing into Sharon’s cunt like a wild little animal. I pulled out of her a little, seeing the white flecks of Emily’s arousal on the shaft of the dildo, then urged it back it, a little deeper this time. Between two and three inches were now inside her, but that was the limit. I now concentrated on slowly withdrawing and re-entering her, over and over again as I listened to the audible clues Emily was giving me as she was fucked for the first time in her life.

This wasn’t hurting her – she loved it! I rubbed my thumb and finger over the swollen bud of her clit as I kept up the rhythm of my thrusting, meeting the demands of her hips as she kept pace. Sharon had been watching for a while but now had her eyes closed as Emily’s tongue kept up a furious pace as both of them began to build toward a climax.

And then it happened. Emily pushed Sharon off of her and screeched as her orgasm overtook her. Her eyes flew open wildly, then closed tightly once more, her mouth opening wide as she tried to catch her breath. Sharon, who had come moments before, slid her hands down on either side of Emily’s face and held her gently, kissing her forehead as the little girl writhed and whimpered, waves of pleasure pulsing through her body.

I started to withdraw from her as slowly as I could, trying to be careful not to hurt her in the process. But she wasn’t hurting. The insides of her vagina were gleaming as it slowly started to close once the creamy dildo was removed. Her labia were red and swollen but soaked, as I leaned down to kiss them, my tongue lapping contentedly at the musky taste of a freshly fucked pussy. I withdrew the other end of the dildo from my own pussy and handed it to Emily.

“Here, sweetie. Taste yourself. Taste the cock that just fucked you,” I smiled. And she did. Together we watched her suck the end that had been inside her, then the other head which had probed deeply inside me.

“Mmm, we taste good, don’t we Mommy?” she giggled, stretching. “So that’s what it feels like to be fucked.” And she slid her hand down to her swollen pussy. “I think I might be a little sore tomorrow,” she added, contentedly.

And the three of us then slowly climbed the stairs to bed, to sleep off another first in our lives. As we all crawled into bed together, Emily quickly falling asleep between us, Sharon commented that I was the only one who hadn’t come.

I smiled over at her. “Emily came for both of us tonight, hon. That is all I needed. I guess she showed us a thing or two, huh?”

“Yeah,” Sharon agreed. “And somehow I don’t think it’s the last time she’ll do that.”

And as usual, she would prove to be correct.

Continue on to Chapter 20

 

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