Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Meanwhile…

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

The woman sat at her makeup table and looked into the mirror at the fading bruises. She would have to find a way to get out of this hell-hole. The mansion was beautiful, but she was treated like shit.

She was naked of course. She wasn’t allowed clothing since she was never allowed off the grounds of the estate. She had no clothes at all, so escaping presented a unique problem of being forced to travel through the jungles of Colombia that stretched for miles with no shoes or covering of any kind. She knew the area’s topography because she sometimes would be taken for a drive to other buildings on the property to have sex with men and women or sometimes young boys and girls. She was never paid anything for her services.

When young boys or girls were involved, at least she wasn’t hit or kicked by the ones she aroused and eventually brought to orgasm with her pussy, hands, or mouth. This made these young ‘customers’ the ones she preferred. She had become a full-fledged pedophile. She had enjoyed sex with adults in a previous time of her life, but no more. Sex with adults meant shame and degradation. It always led to pain, if not physical then mental.

Pablo, her owner, rarely had sex with her anymore, which was fine with her, but he still demanded she never have clothing. She had also been required to have her pubic hair removed by laser to maintain the smoothness she was born with. There were times Pablo ‘allowed’ her to watch him having sex with other women and children, both male and female, and she was told to masturbate herself to an orgasm when that happened. She always had to fake her climaxes during those times unless he was having sex with a young boy or girl. Then she would focus on the child and was able to bring herself to the point of coming by imagining them together in a soft bed with clean sheets and a lot of privacy.

She had long ago stopped worrying whether or not the child wanted the sex she witnessed. When it came to Pablo and sex, nobody wanted what he offered.

There were many who lived on the compound who were kind to her. Carlo, Pablo’s new chauffeur (she had no idea what happened to Tomas, the last one), and Rosalita, one of the maids who had come to work there a year ago, were especially kind to her. In fact, most of the other servants there were kind to her. She liked them, but she saw pity when they looked at her, which filled her with shame.

Looking again in the mirror and doing her best to imagine her face without the fading bruises, she said to her reflection, as she had begun doing soon after arriving here, “My name is Cindy Carmichael. I am alive. I have a daughter Jenna who is now twelve and probably wondering if I’m dead. One day I will see her again.”

It was this promise that kept her alive. That and the daughter she had left with the one woman she knew who would take care of Jenna as if she were her own child. She knew Kayleigh would never try to make the memory of Jenna’s real mother fade away like bruises that caused pain until they were forgotten.

She thought of Jenna numerous times each day. Each time she saw Rosalita’s nine-year-old daughter, Gabriela, she would remember the fun she had with her own daughter, who was only seven when she last saw her.

Cindy never mentioned to Rosalita how much she longed to take Gabriela in her arms and make love to her. In fact, Rosalita was maybe the only adult she saw here that she longed for. The woman was sweet, friendly, and very beautiful with high cheek bones, a slender figure, and jet black hair she kept in a long pony tail. Several times she had witnessed the woman bending over, removing her hair tie and resetting it, and she longed to smother her face in the woman’s tresses, breathe in her scent, and kiss her… while Gabriela licked them both.

She felt the familiar throbbing begin in her loins as the image in her mind sharpened. At least Pablo had not been able to completely desensitize her to sexual desire. She got horny nearly every day and even masturbated herself to orgasm alone in her lumpy bed several times a week. She had come to realize that Pablo and his adult friends were the only problems she had with sex and sexual desire. When she masturbated, she tried not to think of Jenna, Cheryl, and Kayleigh, but the memories of the few times they’d had together would sometimes intrude anyway, which meant she often would be crying by the time she came.

Standing, she looked at her body, which was still flawless. Pablo would never hit her anywhere that might cause permanent damage to the physical beauty below her neck. She made sure she stayed in shape. She exercised daily, including running a circle around the room that held the pool, where she would dive in and swim laps to complete her daily workout routine.

Pablo admired that she was doing this. He mistakenly thought it was for him, but he was a narcissist. He thought everything in the world was for his enjoyment. The real reason, if he knew, would have resulted in a severe punishment of some kind, perhaps even her death at his hands, which she feared was always just a mad thought away.

She was keeping herself in good physical shape because she knew if she ever found an opportunity for escape, she would take it, and being in good condition was imperative if she had the slightest hope for success.

For this reason she lifted weights. Not the weights bodybuilders usually employed because Pablo had none of those. She would find heavy things in the compound and lift them as high as she could, even above her head when that was possible. She swam until she could no longer swim. Cindy had no idea the distance she could go before stopping, but she could swim for almost two hours if allowed that much time to do the laps in the pool. Beyond these things, she ran until she felt her lungs would burst.

And all that time, Pablo suspected nothing of her plans to one day escape. She had been here for a long time now, so he felt she would never attempt it, especially with the deterrents he had put in place, such as her lack of clothing. That was one thing he thought would help prevent escape because of the shame he thought she would face when found, but that was nothing compared to the shame she felt every day being here.

And she had been here for over five years now.

She hoped she would not be here for the sixth anniversary of her humiliation.

She repeated her mantra again and left the room.

********

Gwen lay in her bed with her twelve-year-old niece Carmen. The naked girl had fallen asleep after they had finished the evening in a hot sixty-nine, and now Gwen’s mind turned to the dangerous things she had done and the knowledge her actions had led to, something her mind had been doing a lot lately.

She had decided it best not to involve others, especially Kayleigh, and had continued her investigation into Cindy’s whereabouts on her own. She knew she was risking her life, but she had become insanely paranoid about taking care to ensure word of her continued inquiries never reached Mark Craven. She had been forced to change some of her tactics, even to the point of threatening the people she spoke to by reminding them that certain people might show up on their doorstep if word got out they had spoken.

Those who would not speak to her about Cindy would basically get the same threat, but it became, “If Mr. Craven finds out I even spoke to you, he will come after me, and I will make sure I mention your name before I die.”

So far these threats had worked, and she knew of no reason to suspect they had stopped working, but that didn’t make the moments of worry cease.

She had managed to discover many things about Cindy’s whereabouts, and now she was wondering if she should tell Kayleigh what she knew. She had learned that Cindy was being held on a compound in Colombia, about twenty miles west of the edges of Bogota. She knew that a man who went by the name Pablo Peligro was holding her there. Peligro is the Spanish word for danger. It was almost certainly not his real name, but one chosen for effect.

And just today, she had been given a phone number where she might be able to reach Cindy. It had taken her three years to get this information.

Now that she had it, she wasn’t sure what to do with it, which was why she wondered if it was time to involve Kayleigh.

She had continued the investigation because it haunted her. She had known that wherever Cindy was, she didn’t want to be there. Gwen had no children of her own, but she understood the bond between a mother and her child. She knew that if she were separated from the lovely girl asleep beside her now, she would do anything to get back to her, and Carmen was only her niece.

Now she could look at a map of Colombia, had done so of course, and locate the approximate location of the compound, which covered nearly thirty square miles.

Glancing at Carmen, she eased herself out of bed and tiptoed from the room. Going to her phone, she lifted the receiver and silently hoped Kayleigh was home and not asleep before dialing the number she had never forgotten.

She was disappointed when she heard the answering machine. “Hi, this is Kayleigh… and Cheryl… and Jenna…” each person’s voice said in welcome with a slight pause between introductions. “We’re not home right now,” Kayleigh’s voice continued, “or we can’t come to the phone.” Then Cheryl’s voice continued the outgoing message. “If you’ll leave your name and number, we’ll get back to you.” This was continued by a giggling Jenna, “Unless this is a solicitation call, in which case…” A loud raspberry sound followed this, followed by the three of them saying “Bye-bye” in unison and laughing as the beep cut them off.

Gwen thought it was cute and probably the idea of one or both of the girls. She couldn’t help picturing them nude. Carmen was still friends with Jenna and sometimes stayed the night there, but Gwen had never gone to their home again for fear someone might see her and decide she was still on the case.

When the beep sounded to signal her to leave a message, she decided not to at the last minute when the paranoia reared its ugly but necessary head again. She hung up instead with the intention of trying again in the morning. It was nearly midnight, and it was possible they were all asleep, highly probable in fact.

She stood there wondering what Cheryl and Jenna looked like now. Cheryl would be fifteen and Jenna twelve. She pictured what she thought they would look like naked and wasn’t surprised to feel her clit respond to the fantasy that was taking shape in her mind.

A sound snapped her out of her reverie and she looked first toward her front door, believing she would see Mark Craven standing there with a gun pointed at her, but there was nobody.

Then she heard the sound again and realized it was coming from the hallway that led to her room.

Then Carmen was standing in the doorway to the hall, one hand rubbing her eyes and the other absently scratching her naked pussy, which had begun growing pubic hair several months ago.

“Aunt Gwen?” Carmen asked sleepily. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Just trying to make a call, sweetie. What are you doing up?”

“I woke up and you weren’t in the bed and I just wondered where you were.”

“I was just coming back to bed,” she was saying when a thought struck her.

“When was the last time you stayed over at Jenna’s?”

“About a week ago, I guess. Why?”

“Oh, just wondering. What does she look like these days? Is she still sexy?”

Carmen laughed. “Yeah. Lots. The last time I was there, her aunt joined us in bed. She’s insatiable.”

“That’s a big word from someone so young,” Gwen said.

“I got it from a movie. It’s like this really old porn movie called Insatiable.

“Have you seen that movie?” Gwen asked, remembering the movie from the 80’s that had been one of her own favorites when she was younger.

“Yeah. Over at Jenna’s. Her mom has like every porn movie ever made.”

“And how’s Cheryl these days?”

“Good. She’s sorta babysitting this girl she seduced.”

“How old is the girl?”

“Eleven.”

Gwen took a deep breath. She couldn’t help herself. This conversation was turning her on. She wondered just how sleepy Carmen was now.

“Is this making you horny?” Carmen asked.

“Do you want it to?”

Carmen smiled. “Yeah.”

Apparently, the conversation had aroused the twelve-year-old as well.

“Then yes, it is making me horny. What about you?”

In answer, Carmen reached down and coated her index finger with her juices and stuck it in her mouth, licking away the tasty cream and swallowing what she could.

“I’d say yes, but then I woke up horny,” Carmen said, smiling.

“Don’t you always?” Gwen said and, squeezing the girl’s nearer butt cheek, escorted her back to bed.

When they slid onto the bed, Gwen lay her sexy niece back and began kissing her. She could taste the girl’s fluids on her tongue. The woman began lightly pinching the girl’s nipples and squeezing the developing boob. She once teased Carmen, calling her and her friends the “itty-bitty titty committee.” Then Gwen had laughed and mentioned that she loved the girl’s itty bitty titties and wouldn’t mind enjoying some of her friends’ swelling hills of flesh as well.

She moved her mouth to one of Carmen’s growing mounds and sucked the entire thing into her mouth.

“Not too hard,” Carmen said. Her growing boobs were very tender and she was careful about protecting them from the pain that could result from too much.

Carmen was definitely different from her sister, Clare. The first time Gwen had been in bed with Clare, she found that the fourteen-year-old loved mild pain, asking Gwen to pinch her nipples hard and spank her until her butt was red. Carmen was the milder one, the gentler one.

As Gwen moved down her niece’s slender body, she noticed Carmen had her hand at her pussy, rubbing it softly. The woman shooed the hand away with a gentle swat and replaced it with her mouth. She normally liked to take longer with her nieces, especially Carmen, but the late hour and the fact she needed to get up early created some urgency.

Carmen noticed how quickly her aunt was moving to the treasure of treasures.

“Wow! You’re being really fast,” she said, giggling. “Horny much?”

Gwen raised her head long enough to say, “I’ve gotta get up early tomorrow, so I thought I’d get right down to business” before returning to the girl’s slit.

“I wanna lick you too,” Carmen said, and Gwen swung her leg over the girl and lowered her heated cunt to the girl’s waiting mouth. Once Gwen’s pussy landed there, Carmen wrapped her arms around her aunt’s upper thighs and used both hands to spread the woman’s labia, inserting fingers into her aunt’s vagina and fucking the woman while her tongue worked the stiff clit.

Soon they were both bucking into each other’s mouth, just as they had been just a couple of hours before.

Gwen’s orgasm began to rush up on her. She felt the tingling begin to spread from deep within her to her clit before blooming outward to the rest of her body, causing her nipples to get even harder and her breath to come in gasps of pleasure.

Carmen felt her aunt coming and this triggered her own orgasm. It never ceased to amaze her that she was actually good enough at this to make a grown woman come. She had enjoyed her stay at Jenna’s more than usual this past week because Jenna’s aunt had joined in. She had made the woman come with her mouth, just as she was doing now with her own aunt.

The girl’s hips began to buck wildly as the sensation she craved overpowered her. Her pussy literally throbbed with the feeling that pulsed from deep within her.

Their screams of joy filled the room, and soon Gwen and her niece were lying back, catching their breath and basking in the afterglow of their orgasms. Gwen knew she could come another five times if she wanted to, but it was late and sleep was finally knocking at the door of her mind.

She moved to lie beside Carmen and the girl rested her head on her aunt’s shoulder. Gwen felt the girl’s hand move to her own pussy.

“Is it okay if I get myself off again?” she asked.

Gwen glanced down at her niece’s face, which was turned up to look at her.

“Of course, sweetie. You don’t have to get up early, so you go right ahead.”

The child began rubbing herself, seeking a quick second orgasm… and maybe even a third. Recently, she had found that just one was not enough to satisfy her.

Gwen could feel Carmen’s wet hand that was situated between her leg and the young girl’s pussy begin to move in earnest. She thought she might not be able to sleep until her niece finished jilling, but she never felt the girl’s shivers as the climax enveloped her in warmth and pleasure. Having finally made the decision to tell Kayleigh about what she’d discovered, she was able to sleep soundly for the first time in a long while.

Continue on to Chapter 46

Erin Learns About My Life

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

I waited for about a week before telling Erin about my family and friends. My mom had given me permission to tell her, provided I was sure she wouldn’t say anything to anyone about it. I knew Erin would want to meet them and enjoy having sex with them. I knew this because the girl had become obsessed with sex. When I would arrive at her house and her mother was gone for thirty minutes, she would strip and immediately do something to achieve an orgasm, whether it was jump me or masturbate. She was an extremely sexual eleven-year-old with the sweetest tasting hairless pussy I’d ever licked.

On the day I decided to tell her, I asked if she wanted to get in her bed and chat before we actually did anything because I had some news for her that would probably make her want to come and waiting would only make the orgasm better.

She agreed, and we padded into her bedroom and lay on the bed facing each other. We were already naked, of course, and despite my suggestion she wait to do anything, her hand still found its way to her pussy, which she rubbed lightly while we talked.

“So, whatcha wanna talk about?” she asked, her hand already in its favorite spot.

“I want to tell you about my family.”

“Okay, what about them?” she asked, puzzled that I would discuss them when this was supposed to be sexy.

“Well, they’re… different.”

Her eyebrows arched, “Different how?”

“Well, before I tell you, you have to promise me… no, SWEAR to me… you will never ever tell anyone what I’m about to tell you.”

She was definitely intrigued by this demand. She knew then it would be very personal stuff that I was going to share.

“”Really? I have to swear?”

“Yes, otherwise, I don’t tell you anything.”

“Okay, I swear.”

“You have to say it all, like what you’re swearing to do… or not to do in this case.”

“Wow. This is serious shit, I guess.”

“Yes. The most serious thing I will ever tell you.”

“Okay, I swear I will never tell anyone what you’re going to tell me on this date, June 29, 1998. How’s that? Good enough?”

“Okay. Good enough. I hate to make it all dramatic and all, but you’ll understand when I tell you because people could actually go to prison if you say anything.”

Her mouth dropped open while uttering, “Holy fuck.” I could see she got the point.

“Okay. here it is. My mom and my sister and I all have sex with each other.”

Her eyes bulged and grew big. “What?”

“You heard me right. We all have sex together.”

Now her mouth spread in a grin, her eyes lighting up with glee.

“That’s so… I don’t know. So… COOL!”

“You really think so?”

“Fuck yeah! That’s about the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me, like… EVER!”

“Does it turn you on?” I asked.

“Oh, my God, YES!” and she leaned over to kiss me.

“Wait a second. I’m not through,” I said, holding her back and laughing at her enthusiasm while thinking how much Mom and Jenna, not to mention Deanna and Marie, were going to love meeting Erin. In fact, everyone I could have sex with would love meeting her.

She sat back and looked at me with those wide eyes again, hardly daring to believe that there could possibly be more.

“What? What?” she asked, impatient to hear what I had to say.

“Well, I also have a couple of girlfriends. You remember I told you I wouldn’t tell anyone about us without your permission, and you wondered why on earth you’d give me permission to tell?” She nodded, her mouth agape. “Well, maybe now you understand.” The gaping mouth grew into a wide grin.

“You think they’d wanna have sex with me?” she asked.

“I’m sure of it,” I said. “They’d give anything to be with a cute girl like you.”

“Even your mom?” she asked.

“Especially my mom,” I said. “You want to see a movie she’s in?” I had told Erin my mom was a porn actress the second day I stayed with her.

For a moment I thought she was going to drool on her bed.

“You have one?! A real movie she made? Here?”

I nodded once more. “It’s in my backpack.”

“You mean like a real porn movie with fucking and everything?!”

“Yes,” I said, chuckling at her over-the-top enthusiasm.

“Well don’t just sit there. Go get it!” she said, and I laughed again as I got up to get it. It was one of the movies I had watched being filmed, Lesbians Eating Tarts. I chose it because I also wanted to tell her about my adventures going to work with my mom.

I put the video in her VCR, and when ‘Kayleigh Katz’ came up on the screen, I told her, “That’s my mom.”

“You’ve seen this before, I guess.”

“I even watched it being filmed,” I said, and once again I was getting the ‘Are you shitting me?’ look.

“They let you watch it being filmed?” Erin asked.

“Yeah. My mom swung it so I could go.”

“What did they say? I mean, isn’t it illegal for you to be there like that?”

“Yes, but it’s also illegal for the two of us to watch this, but we’re watching it.”

“Didn’t someone, like, have a problem with you being there and watching and all?”

“Only one lady did, and we tricked her into seeing how much fun I could be.”

“What happened?” she asked, just as the movie was starting.

I paused the movie and told her about Tina and how we fooled her into allowing me to lick her pussy, as well as some of my adventures while at my mom’s work.

“Did Tina like what you did to her?” Erin asked.

“I’ve licked you and you know what it’s like. What do you think?” I said with a smile.

She grinned. “I’m so lucky that my mom hired you! Did that lady come?”

“Like a volcano,” I said. “Now, let’s watch the movie.”

We sat back and watched for a few minutes, but my mom wasn’t in the first scene. After a while, Erin, who had started touching herself as soon as the movie started, asked, “Where is she?”

“She’s in the next scene,” I said. “She has sex with a girl named Sandy Beach.”

“That’s her real name?” Erin asked, squinting with disbelief.

“No, of course not. All the girls have stage names. My mom has the same last name I do, but professionally, she’s Kayleigh Katz.”

“Fast forward to your mom and that Sandy girl.”

I used the remote and we watched sex in fast motion for a short time. I stopped just where the next scene was starting. When Erin saw Sandy, she couldn’t believe it because she looked so young.

“That girl looks like she’s your age! Maybe younger even,” she said.

“She’s not. She had just turned eighteen. They have to provide certified copies of their birth certificates,” I said. “But you’re right. She does look like she’s fourteen, fifteen tops.”

My mom was playing Sandy’s stepmother, and she was angry with Sandy about how messy her room was. She was walking around the bedroom, picking up dirty clothes and holding them out to Sandy with a “Look at this mess” and “You need to clean this up before you can go to the mall with Carolyn.” Sandy did a great job looking like a girl in her mid-teens, pouting and scowling.

Then my mom ‘found’ a vibrator under some clothes on the bed along with a magazine with pictures of lesbians having sex. She looked sufficiently shocked at finding these things on her young stepdaughter’s bed. They talked about what my mom had found for a little bit until Sandy started crying and going on about how she was all confused and didn’t have anyone she could talk to about stuff like that. Of course, that was my mom’s cue to offer herself as she started sympathizing with Sandy over her ‘stepdaughter’s’ dilemma of trying to find out about her sexuality.

Of course, this led to questions, which led to answers, which ran down the path to having sex with each other.

By the time they were having their first orgasms, which I told Erin were definitely not faked, Erin was accompanying their climaxes with her own. I was actually having more fun watching Erin watch the movie. I’d seen it many times, so it was stale to me by then, but to Erin it was a feast of flesh and orgasms. Besides, she’d never seen a porn movie before, so that added to her excitement.

Finally, after Erin had enjoyed the second scene with my mom, Sandy, and a ‘friend’ of Sandy’s, I leaned over and kissed Erin before moving down to her throbbing pussy. I placed my mouth over the slit and devoured her, loving the feel of the nearly hairless mound against my lips and tongue.

Soon, Erin was bucking and moaning as she began to climax again. I still hadn’t come yet, but she must have been on her third or fourth one by then.

When that scene was over, I asked her if she would go down on me and get me off, too. She was more than happy to do that.

After she made me come twice, I said. “There’s actually more to tell you.”

Erin stared at me again, her eyes round, her mouth agape. It was becoming one of her frequent looks. “What?” she asked. “Tell me.”

“My mom has a younger sister, my Aunt Emmy.”

She started shaking her head. “No way,” she said, easily guessing where that was headed.

“Way,” I said. “She first did me when she was only sixteen.”

“How old were you?”

“Six. It was only a few days after my mom and I did it.”

“Is she pretty like your mom?” Erin wanted to know.

“Yep. And she would love to eat your pussy, too. Interested?”

“Could you call her now and ask her to come over?”

“No, she’s working, but I’m sure something could be arranged. She lives with us now with her girlfriend, my former English teacher.”

She just stared at me for a moment before saying, “Fuck, your life is so great.”

I told her maybe one day I’d write a book about it and she could read it.

Erin lay on her tummy and pulled her Winnie-the-Pooh bear underneath her and started humping his mashed nose. I watched, and within about two minutes, she was coming again. That girl loved sex. Maybe even more than I had at her age.

She also loved that movie. Twice that day I caught her in her bedroom, masturbating to it, usually one of the scenes with my mom in it. Erin asked me if she could borrow the movie, but I wasn’t too sure about that since there’d be hell to pay if her mom found it.

“Just for tonight? You can take it home tomorrow!”

I asked where she would hide it, and she said, “Under my mattress. We turned it last week, so it won’t need to be turned again for a while.”

“If you get caught with this, you have to say you found it months ago or something.”

“Okay, but I won’t get caught. My mom pretty well passes out by 10:30. I don’t usually go to sleep until midnight. She sleeps really hard, so she won’t know about it. I promise! And anyway you know her bedroom’s on the other side of the house.”

I gave in reluctantly, and Erin had her sexy plan for the night.

When Ms. Hartley got home, I asked her if I could bring my twelve-year-old little sister over the next day to give Erin someone more her own age to play with for a change. “I’ll watch them,” I said, seeing Erin grin at the double entendre. Ms. Hartley thought that would be a good idea.

Erin and I thought it would be magnificent.

********

When Jenna and I arrived the next morning, I introduced her to Ms. Hartley, who was pleasant to her but not overly friendly, which was about the same way she was with me. I had realized that Ms. Hartley was not anything like my family. I was fully aware she masturbated because I’d gone searching my first week there and found her vibrator in the second drawer of her bedside table. I thought maybe she had left it there for me to find, but since there had been no other indications she was interested in doing anything with me, I figured she had unwisely trusted me not to snoop. I actually thought that was kind of odd. All babysitters snoop. It’s like a job requirement or something.

Anyway, she met Jenna and left for work. Immediately, Jenna and Erin sat on the sofa and started talking, but not before Erin looked at me and said, “Does she know I know?” I nodded, and they were off.

“I guess you’ve seen the movie Cheryl brought to watch yesterday, haven’t you?” Erin asked.

“Which one was that?” Jenna wanted to know.

“Lesbians Eating Tarts,” Erin said. “Your mom is in it.”

“Well, she’s not really my mom,” Jenna said.

“She’s not?”

“No, she sorta adopted me. My real mom is sorta having to work out of town,” Jenna said, obviously not wanting to get too deeply into her mom’s situation.

Erin accepted that explanation without asking more about it. She apparently wanted to talk about sex.

“Did you enjoy watching it last night?” I asked.

Erin smiled at me. “You know it,” she said. “I must’ve come like twenty times.”

I doubted it was that many, but I knew it had probably been a lot. She knew she could borrow the movie for only one night.

“So you and Cheryl have sex together, huh?” Erin asked, changing the subject. Well, slightly.

“All the time,” Jenna said, grinning.

I just sat there listening to their conversation. It was entertaining to listen to a pair of pubescent girls talk about sex.

“And you share a bed and everything, huh?”

Erin was asking questions that she obviously knew the answers to. She was inexperienced in getting to the point she wanted to make, which I knew was an invitation for them to have sex.

Jenna must have picked up on that. She answered her, “Yeah, we do. Listen, you wanna, like, get naked and fool around some?”

“Sure, but we have to wait for my mom to be gone for thirty minutes first. That way we know she’s not coming back home for something she forgot,” Erin said.

Jenna bit softly on her upper lip, a habit she had when she was thinking, and said, “We can make out with our clothes on. We’d hear your mom and be able to stop before we’re caught.”

Erin’s mouth formed a surprised “O” and she looked at me. “You and me coulda been doing that all along!” I was being accused of not thinking of this, but then neither had she.

“Sorry,” I said. “She’s been gone for fifteen minutes now. You can kiss for another fifteen and then we can all get naked and have more fun. Maybe go swimming?” I asked.

“Sure,” Erin said, then pulled Jenna to her for a kiss.

I watched as Erin and my sister made out, tongues exploring the other’s mouth and hands doing some over the clothes exploring. Jenna had her hand on Erin’s butt, squeezing it while they kissed, and Erin had gone straight for Jenna’s pussy. Jenna had worn a sundress, so her mound was easy to get to. Erin was in shorts.

The girls sat back from each other to catch their breath. They were both flushed from the erotic kisses and touches.

“Let’s get something to drink,” Erin said, and they scampered toward the kitchen, Erin leading Jenna by the hand.

When I joined them in there, they were finishing a coke they were sharing. The thirty minute mark had just passed, and I had taken off my clothes before entering the kitchen.

Erin squealed, followed by Jenna. Both girls immediately removed their clothes. I wasn’t exactly surprised to see that Erin was not wearing panties. They left the clothing right there on the kitchen floor and ran to the pool, Erin once again pulling Jenna by the hand.

I picked up their clothes and joined them. When I got there, they were already in the pool, taking turns at one of the filter jets.

“Cheryl, time us,” Jenna said.

“Time us? What for?” Erin asked.

Jenna grinned at her. “We each start by taking turns and letting the jet hit our pussy for two minutes, then one minute, then thirty seconds, and then fifteen seconds. After that, it stays fifteen seconds. The first to come is the winner.”

“You mean, like I start and let the jet hit my pussy for two minutes, then I move and you do it for two. Then I do it for one and you do it for one? Like that?” said Erin.

“Yeah. And you’re allowed to rub yourself but not hard, but that’s only while you’re waiting for the other person to finish the two-minute, the one-minute, and the thirty-second times. Once it gets to fifteen seconds, you aren’t allowed to touch yourself. And if you come when you’re not in front of the jet, the other person wins. When you start coming, you get to stay in front of the jet til your orgasm is over. Then the other girl gets to ride the jet til she comes.”

“Cool, let’s play it!” Erin said, nearly shrieking with excitement.

“So do you wanna go first since it’s your pool?”

“Sure,” Erin grinned.

“You gotta wait til Cheryl says ‘go’ before you get the jet, though.”

Erin looked at me. “So say ‘go’ already!” She was being rather impatient, but I understood. She finally had a friend here her own age, and one that was totally into sex the way she was, whether it was a masturbation game like this or girl-girl sex. I realized she had never been involved in a threesome before. She had quite a few treats in store for that day, not to mention my mom had asked me to see if Erin could spend the night one night. I was going to do that when Ms. Hartley got home and make it a surprise for Erin and Jenna both.

I looked at my watch, marked the time, and said loudly, “GO!”

Erin immediately positioned her pussy in front of the jet that was gushing water from the filtration system back into the pool. The water rose up her chest and wet her face from the force of hitting the wall of Erin’s tender flesh.

I noticed Jenna was rubbing herself, which was basically against the rules I had made up years ago. You weren’t supposed to touch your pussy until after your first time at the jet, but maybe she’d forgotten. We hadn’t played this game since last summer.

After two minutes, I called out, “SWITCH!” and Jenna immediately moved Erin out of the way and allowed the jet to beat into her middle, pounding her pussy. Erin forgot she could touch herself, so I said, “Erin, you can touch yourself while you wait for your next turn.”

She immediately reached down into the water to get at her bald pussy.

After two minutes, I had them switch places again, and I timed Erin for one minute before having them switch again for Jenna’s one minute of pleasure.

Then we moved to the thirty-second time, and I could tell Erin was getting fairly close to coming by her scrunched up face, which was turning quite red with her exertions to try to come first.

Once they got to the fifteen-second time, Erin discovered the real torture of this game. While Jenna received the benefit of the jet, she had to refrain from touching what was now a very excited pussy. “Both hands out of the water,” I told her. She gripped the side of the pool in the shallow water, but I could tell she was squeezing her thighs together beneath the water. I allowed it.

Now they were switching places every fifteen seconds, and I could see they were both very close, but just at the moment the orgasm was about to cascade over one girl, she had to move to allow the other a place in front of the jet. I could see that both of them were squeezing their thighs together while the other was receiving the jet’s pressure.

Finally, Jenna, the more experienced of the two, started coming five seconds before the end of her time. She rode out her climax while a jealous Erin looked on. Immediately after Jenna moved away from the powerful pussy massaging of the jet, Erin moved in and was coming in about five seconds. Her body bucked and heaved as the climax peaked before subsiding.

When they had both come, I looked at the two temporarily satisfied girls and said, “Now, what about me? Does anyone want to lick and finger my pussy til I come?”

Both girls thought that would be an excellent idea.

Continue on to Chapter 45

The Final Seduction of Erin Hartley

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

The next morning I arrived at work to watch Erin a few minutes late. Ms. Hartley wasn’t too upset, but she reminded me that punctuality for any job was an open demonstration of wanting to keep the job. I got the message and apologized. She smiled and told me not to worry about it, but I should not make it a habit.

After her mom left, Erin wanted to get naked right away. We had decided we would be naked all day while I was there, but I felt it was wise to wait at least a half hour to make sure her mom hadn’t forgotten anything, forcing her to return to the house to retrieve it. “She won’t call in that case, I’m sure,” I said. So Erin had to wait to get undressed, as did I, but I wasn’t the impatient one.

At exactly thirty minutes Erin removed the clothes she wore, a pair of denim shorts that hugged her cute little butt, and a t-shirt with a Dodgers logo on it. Those are the only clothes I mention because it was all she had on. No panties at all.

Sitting on the edge of a chair, she spread her knees wide and reached down to her cunny, opening the lips. “See? I’m like really wet already!” she said. Either her enthusiasm was contagious, or the sight of that eleven-year-old pussy, spread before me and dripping its honey down to her butthole was making me as enthused as she was to get naked and enjoy being alone in the house all day. I suspect the latter was mostly responsible for my strong desire to get naked.

“Did you think about what I said?” I asked.

“You mean like whether or not I might be bi?” she answered.

“Yes.”

“Well, when I went to bed, I started thinking about what we did yesterday,” she began.

“And…?”

“Thinking about it got my clit all tingly.”

“Okay,” I said, wishing she would get to the point. “Did you make any decision one way or the other?”

“I’ll get to that,” she said, aware of the effect of not telling me right away.

I sighed. “Okay. Go on.”

“Anyway, I laid there thinking,” she began.

“Lay there thinking,” I corrected. “Lay is also the past tense of lie,” I said. Good grief, what was the matter with me? I was becoming a Grammar Nazi when I should be urging her to keep telling me about last night!

“Oooo-kaaay, I LAY there thinking about what we did and was getting turned on remembering it.” She stopped.

“You said that,” I said.

“I know. I was just wondering if my grammar was okay before going on,” she replied, making her point rather well.

“I’m sorry. I promise not to stop you again.”

“Thanks. So I started thinking about how much you liked the flavor of your pussy-honey, and I began to wonder what it tasted like.”

I suspected where this might lead, but I sat silently waiting for her to continue, raising my eyebrows at her as if to ask what happened then.

“Well, I decided to taste my own juices, so I put a finger inside and got it all wet with my stuff, and I smelled it first and it didn’t smell bad, just kinda different, and I touched my finger with my tongue and couldn’t really taste anything, so I put my whole finger inside my mouth like you did yesterday and I found out how I feel about the taste of my own puss,” she said quickly, as if I had pressed some button that made her spill it all out as fast as she could.

I waited for her to tell me the results of her little experiment. At first she was just grinning at me, until I finally said, “And how did it taste?”

“Oh! Sorry. I forgot to say that, didn’t I?” She giggled and said, “I love it!”

Okay, this was very good. However, it could just mean she likes to lick her fingers clean now. The big question about her sexuality was still not answered.

“So what do you think about that? Does it make you want to try new things with me?” I asked.

“First a question,” she said.

“Okay, ask away.”

“Do all girls taste the same or are they different?”

“Well, we all have the same basic flavor, but some girls taste stronger than others and some taste milder, I guess you’d say. I’ve heard we all taste different, but I can tell you the girls I’ve licked don’t taste all that different from how I taste, except for slight differences. I guess it’s like wine. Each wine tastes like wine, but they all taste a bit different too.”

“I’ve never tasted wine,” she said.

“Neither have I, but the idea is the same.”

“Oh, okay. I get it.”

“So,” I began, grinning and hoping for the answer I wanted. “Would you like to sample my wine?”

“You promise not to ever tell anyone? Ever?” she asked, still afraid of being outed.

This is the way it is for people who like people of the same sex. We fear the inevitable disgust and hatred from many people. Erin should be allowed to be herself, not forced to steer her life down a path just to satisfy ignorant bigots. Secrecy is the key to avoiding that, as well as the thing we hate the most.

“Let’s just put it this way. I won’t tell anyone you don’t give me permission to tell. How’s that?”

“Who would I give you permission to tell?” she wanted to know.

“Maybe several people. You don’t know until we actually do something, which is to say, we should start having sex with each other so you can decide if it’s for you or not. If it isn’t, that’s fine. I’ll be okay with whatever you decide. If you like it, maybe you’d like me to invite some other girls over for some fun. Girls who will be as silent about this as you want them to be.” I gave her a suggestive wink, and she smiled, getting my point. “My mom told me we are who we are, and it’s silly to try to be something else.”

“Would you get some of your stuff on your finger so I can taste it?” she asked.

I looked at her. “Why don’t you come over here and use your own finger?”

“Oh,” she said, blushing slightly. “Okay.”

Getting up from where she sat, she came over to sit beside me on the sofa, where we’d draped towels to absorb anything that we might not want to get on the upholstery, like the distinctive aroma of pussy.

Reaching over to my pussy, she tentatively dipped her middle finger in and gathered some of my spunk, as she called it, which was fairly running out of me by this time.

Immediately, as if she thought waiting might allow her to change her mind, she plunged her wet finger into her mouth. Sucking away my pussy-honey, another of her terms, she grinned at me. “Tastes good!” she said.

I dipped my finger into her bare cunny and sucked it clean. “So do you.”

She blushed a little and turned to face the room, giving me another chance to study her beautiful profile. She was gorgeous. I loved her little upturned nose. It gave her face character. Her mouth was framed by naturally red lips that I longed to kiss, but I didn’t want to rush things.

Then she turned back to me and said, “What now?”

I realized I would have to take more of a lead than I had first thought.

“Do you really want to find out what this bi thing is all about?” I asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Then lie back.”

She did, I arranged her legs so that I could lie between them and lick her pussy. My plan was to keep licking until she came. I thought if she ever experienced having a girl who knew what she was doing lick her, she would never consider herself strictly hetero again. Of course, I think that about all girls.

I positioned my face directly over her mound and told her to close her eyes. “I’m going to make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before.”

“Better than when you masturbated me yesterday?” she asked.

“Yep.” I could smell her as I hovered above her mound.

“If I faint, there are smelling salts in my mother’s medicine cabinet.”

I laughed. “It’ll feel great, but you won’t do anything like faint. You may get a little disoriented, but that’s all.”

“Disoriented?” she asked, worry tingeing her voice.

“Don’t worry. It’s good,” I said and leaned in toward her pussy, breathing in her luscious scent again.

I didn’t want to delay the act by kissing her inner thighs or anything like that because I was afraid she might change her mind before I ever got to her pussy, so I flicked my tongue out and took a few swipes across her clit. She jumped at the contact. “Ooh,” she uttered. “That felt good.”

“Hang on, girl. It gets a lot better.” With that, I covered her pussy with my mouth and began to lick all over her labia, inner and outer, bathing her vulva with my tongue. Then I pushed my tongue to the entrance to her vagina and collected her honey that was pooled there. I spent a moment lapping it up like a dog who was nearly dying from thirst. Then I ran my tongue from the bottom of her slit to the top, making sure to make contact with her sensitive clit. Her hips began to move; her thighs quivered.

Cupping her butt with my hands, my thumbs sought her butthole and began tickling her there. I thought of licking her rosebud but decided again that I should take it one step at a time. I didn’t want to scare her off.

Small gasps of “huh… huh… huh” began to escape her mouth in rhythm to the licking she was receiving. I could tell she was already hooked on this thing called cunnilingus. She may never lick me — I couldn’t tell — but she would always love having her own pussy licked.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” replaced the ‘huh’s’ and I knew she was getting close to a massive orgasmic explosion.

I used my teeth to tenderly nibble her clit and that was all she needed. She began to buck wildly, nearly falling off the sofa where she lay. I held on to her with my hands and my mouth, wanting to make sure she got the full benefit of the oral sex. Screams of ecstasy filled the room as she began to jerk and throb, and I wondered if the walls were vibrating. Her tummy tightened and relaxed with the spasms that shook her world.

Finally, she was attempting to wriggle away, as she breathed, “Stop, stop, stop!” because the intensity was too much for her to take any longer.

I sat up and looked at her. She was sprawled on the sofa like a rag doll that had been thrown down carelessly. One foot and lower leg dangled off the sofa, the foot touching the floor. Her arms looked like broken limbs of a bush, seeming to lie where they had landed after being flung about, bent in different directions by some storm. She was sweating as she tried to catch her breath.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” she said.

“You like?” I asked, grinning at her.

“No. I love,” she answered. “How could I have thought that was gross?” she asked.

“Because you’d never tried it, and you were afraid of what liking it would make you.”

“I guess that would make me bi, huh?” she asked.

“I’d say so. But you haven’t really done anything yet.”

“What d’ya mean?” she asked, her brow furrowing.

“So far, all you’ve done is stick a finger in me enough to get some of my pussy juice to taste. You liked the taste, but you haven’t taken my honey directly from the hive, as my mom likes to say. It tastes even better if you do that. Believe me, receiving the licks from a girl doesn’t really make you bi. It’s when you give as good as you get that you are officially a bisexual female.”

“Officially?”

“Yes. Officially.”

“That sounds so… legal.”

I laughed. “It is,” I kidded her. “And you must either get me off by the same method I just used on you, or you can forever be branded a taker, not a giver.”

“So if I don’t lick you, I’m not a bisexual?” she asked.

“Nope. You are worse.”

“Worse?”

“Yes, a taker is the worst kind of person. She’s selfish. Her life’s goal is only to please herself, and she’ll never have true friends.”

“You sound like a wizard from a fantasy novel,” she said, and laughed. She had a lilting laughter that was lovely.

I lay back and spread my pussy open for her inspection. She moved into place.

“What do I do?” she asked.

“Just lean in and kiss and lick it, especially the clit, though you should start with my labia and deep down where my vagina begins. You can use your teeth, but be really gentle. I was nibbling your clit when you came.”

“So I shouldn’t, like, bite it, right?”

“Right. Just nibble softly, but don’t do that until you have me really going.”

“Will that take long?”

“Not if you’re good,” I said.

She leaned forward and said, just before starting to lick me, “Tell me if I’m doing it wrong.”

“Don’t worry. There isn’t much you can do that won’t feel good. I’ll direct you to my clit if you need my help.”

She began to lick my labia. “Mmm,” she said. “Your mom’s right. This does taste better taken directly from the hive.”

I giggled and she continued licking me.

“Put your whole mouth on me. Cover my mound with your mouth and lick,” I said.

She followed my directions, and it felt heavenly.

Soon her tongue was dancing everywhere, swiping across my clit, dipping toward my vagina, licking between the folds of my labia.

In other words, she was doing just fine driving me wild with lust.

My hips had started moving on their own, and I gave her encouragement by saying things like, “Yeah, right there” and “Oh, yes, that’s good.” Soon, though, I was unable to think clearly enough to verbalize ideas and thoughts. My clit was throbbing as it neared its climax.

Glancing down at Erin, I saw that she had one hand on her pussy and was rubbing her slit while she ate my pussy. I loved when that happened. It meant she was enjoying this as much as I was, so by rubbing herself it meant even more since she hadn’t been sure just one day ago. In fact she had been downright negative about even thinking of trying this.

And now she loved it.

My mind was a whirl of emotions and sensations as my orgasm approached. I was going to come very soon, and I hoped she would be able to keep her mouth on my pussy while I bucked and heaved.

That odd tickle was taking over. “Nibbles,” I said. It was all I could manage. She got her teeth involved, and I blasted off, tumbling here and there on the sofa, my natural balance preventing me from rolling too far and falling off. My pussy, of course, couldn’t care less if I fell off the sofa. She was just enjoying the mind-blowing climax.

After I came, I looked at Erin. She was wide-eyed and her come-smeared mouth hung open.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Of course I am,” I gasped, trying to catch my breath. “You just did a brilliant job of eating my pussy, that’s all.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You did. Definitely.”

She beamed at me as if I’d just given her the greatest compliment of her life.

I stood on shaky legs and pulled her up from the sofa. Our faces were only about three inches apart.

“Let’s go for a swim,” I said.

But before we could move from that spot, we had what I can only call ‘a moment.’ She was looking into my eyes, and some sort of instant communication took place between us. I knew she wanted to kiss me, so I let her do just that.

Her lips met mine and we kissed. There was no tongue, just lips, but it was sweet. A mixture between a child’s kiss and an adult’s. It lasted too long to be considered a child’s kiss, but since there were no tongues involved, it wasn’t exactly an adult’s kiss either. The kiss reminded me she was only eleven, and a fairly naive eleven at that when it came to sexual things. I would teach her, of course, and by the end of our first week together, we were making out like a pair of people my age, but that first kiss was so nice. It seemed to be bordered on one side by innocence and on the other by lust.

This girl who had hated me at first sight now had an enormous crush on me. She embraced her bisexuality with complete abandon and enthusiasm. I knew I would tell her about my family soon. It would open up endless possibilities, and I knew my mom, aunt, and Jenna would want some time with Erin. And that would be just the beginning.

Continue on to Chapter 44

Trouble in Paradise

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

We swam around in the pool for maybe thirty minutes, splashing each other and having fun. Giggles and laughter filled the room, which had a distinct echo. I admired her slender figure and I know she admired mine. I stopped for a few minutes at one of the filter jets, and she said she liked them too. She watched me while I enjoyed the sensations, but I didn’t want to come just yet.

My hopes were for more tangible sexual contact between us. In other words, I wanted to sixty-nine with Erin so bad I could taste it. Well, actually, I couldn’t taste it; that was the problem.

When we got out, we lay on two of the lounge chairs. We chatted for a bit, then we grew quiet. I lay there, wondering how to broach the subject of doing something with and to each other when she took care of that for me.

I glanced at Erin, and her fingers were busy playing with her pussy. She didn’t seem to be close to anything like an orgasm, but she was definitely enjoying the touches. She noticed me looking at her and she blushed, removing her hands to cover her red face.

“You don’t have to worry about that. If you want to, do it. It doesn’t matter if I’m doing it too. Just go for it. You could end up having the sorest pussy on your block, which is actually a good thing,” I said and laughed at my own little joke.

“You sure?” she said.

“Yeah, but there is something better, remember?”

“Yeah, but you never said what.”

“Well, have you ever touched another girl’s pussy before?”

“Ewww! No! That’s gross!” Uh-oh. That didn’t bode well.

“It’s not gross. It’s kinda cool. And it feels great!” I said, hoping to convince my eleven-year-old friend to explore this part of sex with me.

“You’ve done it?!”

“Sure. I’m surprised you haven’t.”

“No way! I’m not a lesbo!”

“You like the way I look, don’t you?” I asked, knowing full well she had enjoyed looking at my naked charms since she’d first seen them.

“Well, yeah. But my mom says women and girls often find each other attractive, but that doesn’t mean they want to do sex stuff with each other. My mom says it’s because women just appreciate beauty.”

Oh good. I was going to have to argue with her mom’s point, which was valid, though not much use to me, a horny fifteen-year-old girl wanting to seduce another girl who was both inexperienced and rather reluctant. Still, there was no way I was going to do anything unless Erin wanted to do it. I hoped to eventually use my mom’s line, “What we do is up to you” with her.

But first she’d have to want to do something besides masturbate together.

“Well, it’s not as icky as you think.”

“How long have you been doing it with girls?” she asked. I could tell she thought it was maybe a few weeks or months at most. Boy, was she in for a shock.

“Since I was six.”

“No way! Six-year-olds don’t do sex stuff with other people, especially other girls.”

“Well, this wasn’t a girl. It was a grown woman.”

“You mean you were molested by a real grown woman?!” I loved that phrase, ‘a real grown woman,’ as if there were fake grown women running around also having sex with little girls.

“I wasn’t molested really. I wanted to do it.”

“Who was it?” she asked.

I was ready for that question. No way was I going to tell her the truth here, especially since she seemed dead set against doing anything with each other. “It was a woman my mom knew.” That was the truth, really. My mom knew herself, after all.

“What did she do to you?”

“Actually, the question should be ‘what did she do with you?’ instead. She didn’t do anything to me. We enjoyed it together.”

Her face was incredulous as she got the news that I had been happily practicing lesbianism since I was six.

“Don’t you like boys?” she asked.

“Yes, I do, but to be honest, I prefer girls much more. They are softer and gentler, and they are more interested in pleasing their sexual partners than a lot of men are.”

“So, what did you do with her, just touch each other’s pussies?”

Ahh. A crack in the wall seemed to be forming as her curiosity kicked in.

“Well, yes, but more than that. The thing is that it always feels better when someone else touches you.”

She shrugged. “Maybe when a boy touches me. I don’t know if I would like it if it was a girl.”

I lay there trying to think of what to say to entice her to at least try it, when she spoke up again.

“I can’t believe you’re a lesbo.”

“First, lesbo is a derogatory term. It’s meant to be hurtful. The proper word is lesbian. And second, I’m actually not really a lesbian. I’m bisexual with a leaning towards other girls and women. There are other bisexual women who have leanings towards men. It’s all about preference.”

“So you’ve had sex with a guy?”

“Well, I’ve not been fucked by a guy, if that’s what you mean. But I have sucked some guys off before.”

Boy, her eyes widened at that one!

“Really?!”

“Yeah.”

“What was it like?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted the conversation to go there. On the one hand it was at least talking about sex, and it would certainly get Erin more turned on. On the other hand, it would be more about the guy’s dick rather than my pussy. Or Erin’s. That would be counterproductive to my goal.

However, that also brought an approach to mind, one that might work.

“It was nice. I like the taste of a guy’s sperm, so they love that because I swallow it.”

“You mean you let the guys put their sperm in your mouth?”

“Yeah, and the accepted term would be they ‘shoot off’ in my mouth, but I like the taste of a girl’s pussy juices more.”

“You taste girls’ pussy juices? How?”

Wow. This girl, for being such a delinquent, sure didn’t know much about sex. Of course, what she needed was a teacher and I was pushing hard for the job.

“Girls lick each other there. It’s about the best feeling in the world.” I paused a second, thinking about what I’d said. “No, not about the best feeling, it is the best feeling.”

“So girls have licked you too?”

“Sure.”

“And guys. Do they lick girls there too?”

“Of course, but a girl’s mouth is better. No stubble to rub you raw down there, no facial hair to tickle or scratch you. Yeah, girls are definitely better for that.”

She lay back and sighed. “Still, I wish you were a guy. I’d let you do lots of stuff with me then.”

“Think about what you just said. If I had a penis, I could touch you? What’s the difference between my hands and a guy’s hands?”

She giggled. “When you masturbate, you’re not touching a dick.”

“Very funny. Really, though. What is the difference?”

“A girl’s hands are… I don’t know. Smaller?”

“Wow. Big difference,” I said, hoping she would say what the real difference was. If I said it then it wouldn’t be as good.

“Well, they are.”

“I know,” I said. “But there’s another big difference.”

“They’re bigger?”

“Yes, but there’s more. It’s probably the biggest difference that makes a girl’s hands better for touching you there than a boy’s.”

“You tell me,” she said.

“No, I prefer you figure it out on your own. Then you’ll see why a girl’s hands are better for a number of reasons.”

She lay there on her side, her elbow bent and her head on her right hand, looking at me and thinking. I was in the same position, but of course my head was resting on my left hand.

Finally, I tried to give her a hint. “Think about a boy’s hands. What has he been doing with them?”

She giggled again. “You mean other than wanking off?”

“Yes,” I chuckled with her. “Other than that.”

“I don’t know. Playing ball or some other sport. Maybe lifting weights and getting sexy muscles.” She grinned at me as if she had demonstrated why boys are better, but she was actually heading where I wanted her to go.

“Okay,” I said. “So what happens to a boy’s hands with all that rough use that makes them different from a girl’s? How are a girl’s hands different because she doesn’t play a lot of sports that involve rough use of the hands?”

“You mean like how a girl’s hands are softer?”

“Exactly!” I said. “Now, why would that make a girl’s hands better for touching your tender, smooth, definitely UN-rough pussy?”

“You mean because of that a girl’s hands feel a lot better than a boy’s hands down there?”

“They do to me!” I said, although that was a lie. I had never actually had a boy or man touch me there before. In fact, all I’d ever really done with a guy was either jerk him off of suck him off. It occurred to me then that I had pleasured them, but not one had taken any steps to pleasure me, at least not that I recalled. Of course, all the guys I had done anything with were grown men who knew my mom well, and she may have told them hands off. But still, it seemed awfully selfish of them.

She looked at me, the wheels obviously turning. “I guess I could close my eyes and pretend you were a guy rubbing me.”

It was a step in the right direction — a baby step, but still a step — so I said, “Sure. Believe me, you’ll like it.”

She sighed again, studying me. “You really want to touch my pussy, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I do. A lot.”

She glanced down at my pussy. Was she thinking of maybe trying out touching me?

Lying back, she said, “Okay. I’ll let you touch me.”

She spread her legs a bit and shut her eyes. Rising from the lounger, I put a folded towel on the cement floor beside her and knelt on it. Then reaching out, I touched her pussy for the first time.

I started by dipping some of her moisture up and smearing it around her lips, making the skin slippery. I did this twice. She had a lot of fluids built up down there, and I thought that, too, was a good sign. She was definitely horny.

I watched her face for signs of enjoyment. She began to breathe a bit more deeply as I massaged her labia, continuing to lubricate her. I wanted to make sure she did not feel any sort of a rough touch. Keeping her lubed up was the way to avoid that.

Finally, I moved up to her clit and began to massage her there. There was a sharp intake of breath when I made contact with her little button. I continued to rub her gently, wishing I could put my mouth on her pussy instead. But she hadn’t consented to that, so I put it out of my mind. Okay, I sort of put it in a closet, where it would bang on the mental door wanting out again, because I never once stopped imagining my mouth on her pussy. I just concentrated more on what I was allowed to do to her. No, not to her, for her.

Her eyes remained closed, but I did notice she would peek at me before shutting them again. I counted that as a good sign. She may be imagining it was a boy, but her vision was confirming that these wonderful sensations were coming from me, a 100%, happy-to-have-a-pussy, fifteen-year-old girl.

Her hips began to rock a bit, moving more or less on their own without any conscious thought from her. I had no idea what she was thinking, but she was definitely enjoying the touch of my hand — a soft, feminine hand, and one that knew all the secret places that felt good.

*******

My God! She’s right. It does feel better when someone else touches you there. I thought she was just saying that get me to let her do stuff with me. Shit, that feels good! Does this make me a lesbo? Do I really like girls but don’t know it? Maybe I am bisexual. I wonder what it would feel like to touch her puss? I’m — ooh — I’m gonna — oh, FUCK that felt good!  I’m gonna come like this. I didn’t think I would, but I bet she wants me to. She’s sure trying hard e — Shit! — enough to bring me off. Oh, fuck, I feel it building. Take a peek at her. God! She was looking and saw me peeking at her. Do I want to touch her? What makes me afraid of doing that? So what if I enjoy it. I wonder how different it would be from touching my own — oh, God! — puss? I know she wants me to. And she’s really nice. She says she won’t — fuck fuck fuck! — tell my — damn! — mom anything I do unless I — oh fuck! — might hur — crap! — hurt mysel — Shit! — myself, and she does — oh! — have nice ti —

*******

“Oh… FUCK!” Erin screamed.

She was coming. Her hips bucked up and down as she moaned out the orgasm I had given her. I wondered if this would be enough to convince her to try other things. It certainly seemed she was having one hell of a climax.

My fingers stayed there, trying to glue themselves to her clit as I rode out the orgasm with her. Finally, she reached down and had to push my hand away.

“Can’t … can’t take it anymore … too sensitive, I guess,” she breathed. I’d had orgasms that good before and was happy she’d had one like that.

“Have you ever had to stop yourself from touching it because it grew too sensitive?” I asked, bringing my juice-covered fingers to my mouth and sucking them clean as she watched, mesmerized by what I was doing.

She shook her head.

“Now, do you believe me when I say it’s always better when someone else does the touching?”

She was breathing hard, as if she’d just run a mile or five. “Y… yeah… God, that was good!”

I leaned down close to her face to whisper to her and felt her tense up for some reason.

Oh, God. Is she going to kiss me? What’ll I do? And my stuff is in her mouth!

“Licking feels a hundred times better,” I said, wondering why she’d tensed up like that.

I sat back up. For some reason she looked a bit disappointed, though I didn’t know why. She’d just had what was probably the best orgasm of her young life. What was there to be disappointed about?

Getting up, I said, “Okay, now doing that to you has me really horny. So, if you want to watch you can, or you can go back in the pool, or even inside, but I’m going to get myself off now.”

“You don’t mind if I watch?” she asked.

“No, in fact, given only those three choices of things for you to do, that would be what I’d choose.”

I lay back and started playing with my nipples and squeezing my boobs. Then a hand sneaked down my belly to my pussy while the other remained behind on my tits.

I watched Erin. She was definitely interested in what she was seeing. My hand began a slow dance around my pussy, smearing the juices as I’d smeared hers. Again, I wondered what she was thinking as she watched me masturbate.

*******

I can’t believe she sucked all my stuff off her fingers! Then I thought she was going to kiss me! It’s weird. Part of me wanted her to, and part of me was shocked. Maybe I am a lesbo or bi or something. I mean, you were kinda wanting that kiss. And when she said I could go swimming or go inside rather than watch this, I knew right away what I wanted to do. And her tits are so pretty with those nipples that look like small raspberries. I wonder what they would taste like? God, Erin! Get ahold of yourself! This older girl starts talking about having sex, and you’re going ape-shit about it. God, I’m losing my fucking mind here! I’ve never wanted to do any sex stuff with a girl before. Okay, masturbating is different. Nobody else is touching you then. God, look how wet she is! Her fingers are like coated with her stuff! Okay, just look at her face. Shit! She’s looking at me. Well, now she’s looking at my pussy. She must be more of a lesbo than bi. I guess that’s cool. She didn’t do anything to me I didn’t say she could do. Speaking of doing things to me, that O was wild! I’ve never come like that before. I could get her to do that to me again if I want. Hell, I could get her to lick me if I want. I gotta admit that sounds kinda tempting. She said it was like a thousand times better than her touching me. Fuck! I’d die from that much pleasure! Oh, wow, I think she’s getting close. She’s squirming around enough. I wonder what she’d do if I leaned over and sucked her nipple? Should I? I mean, it’s just a nipple, and she was real nice to me and all. It’s probably like when I practice kiss my hand or something. No biggie. But would she think I wanted to do more if I did that? Yeah, probably. Maybe I shouldn’t. Of course, I could just tell her after she’s done that it doesn’t mean I want to do all that lesbo stuff. It would just be helping her get over the top. Okay, on the count of three… one… two…

*******

I was about to come when suddenly she stood up. I wondered if she had gotten embarrassed by watching me and had decided to go inside or something until I finished, but then she did something entirely unexpected.

Grabbing the same folded towel I had used to kneel on, she knelt beside me, leaned over, and took a nipple into her mouth. She started sucking it like a baby wanting milk.

That was it, all I needed in fact. I started coming like crazy. My pussy seemed to explode. I was so turned on by her actions, especially since she had seemed totally reluctant before. I wanted her to reach down and help me with her fingers, but she didn’t and I didn’t make an attempt to get her to. Taking things slowly would work best with Erin.

After I’d come, she looked at me and said, “That doesn’t mean I want to do other stuff. I just thought since you made me come so good that I would at least pay you back.”

“Erin, it’s not about paying people back. It’s about enjoying yourself and helping someone else enjoy herself. If you didn’t want to suck my nipples, you shouldn’t have. I don’t want you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“You said you wanted to do sex things with me,” she said.

“Yes, but really what I mean is that I want you to decide to enjoy it. I want you to want to do it. That way you and I both will enjoy what we do together. I mean, it’s such a great opportunity, what with your mom gone all day and guaranteed to call before she comes home. But I don’t want you to do it just to make me happy. If we aren’t both happy, then I’m not happy. Understand?”

“I guess. Then you will still do this stuff if I want to do it?”

“Yes. What we do is up to you.”

“Okay.”

“Can I ask you something?” I said, needing to know the answer to this question.

“Sure.”

“Did you like watching me touch myself like that?”

“Yeah. You’re pretty, and I like your tits. The nipples look like small raspberries.”

“What about my pussy. I saw you looking at it while I masturbated.”

“I like it too, I guess. I just –“

“Just what?”

“I’m just afraid of being a les-buh… I mean a lesbian,” she said, catching herself before saying lesbo.

“First, you are who you are and what you are. I believe we are made that way from the beginning. It’s genetic. I doubt seriously you are a lesbian. Second, if anything, you’re probably bi, especially if you really enjoyed what we’ve done together today.”

“Is that bad?” she asked. I could see the worry in her face.

“Is what bad?”

“If I’m bi. Won’t people make fun of me?”

“Only if they know about it. And I’m not gonna tell anyone. Are you?”

“Does anyone know you’re bi?”

“Well, my two best friends and my aunt, and my mom, and –“

“Your MOM knows?” she asked, interrupting my list, which was probably a good thing.

“Yes, she knows.”

“Does it piss her off?”

“No, she’s bi too.”

“You’re shitting me! Your mom’s bi?”

“Yes. Don’t look so surprised, it’s a lot more common than you think.”

“And she doesn’t mind if you have sex with people, even other girls?”

“Not at all. She encourages me to be myself. She is fully aware of everything I do when it comes to sex,” I said.

“She knows you rub yourself?”

I laughed. “Of course. And I know she rubs herself too.”

“I wish my mom was like that,” she said.

I looked at her and thought the same thing. Not because I wanted to go to bed with her mom, though I wouldn’t turn it down — she was quite sexy — I wished her mom was more like mine because maybe Erin would be more accepting of her sexual tastes if that were the case. Then we could do a lot more than just jill off with each other, and she wouldn’t feel she was breaking some barrier by sucking my nipples.

I wanted Erin to be more like me.

“Do you think your mom would be upset if she knew we were doing this?”

“Yeah.”

“Is that one of the reasons you aren’t too keen on doing it?”

“No way. I do what I want. That’s why she hired you. To make sure I don’t do things I want to do that could get me in trouble.”

“Is there any way you could get into trouble for doing this?”

“Well, yeah. If she caught us.”

“And what chance is there of that?” I asked, working towards a point I wanted to make.

“Pretty well zero.”

“Okay, so listen. I want you to think about this stuff tonight when you go to bed. I want you to decide if you are bi and if so whether or not you want to try some things with me. I’ll be disappointed if you decide you are bi and don’t want to play around with me, but I don’t want you to decide to do that just to make me happy, okay? Like I said before, what we do is up to you.”

“Okay,” she said.

We got up and went back into the main house and lounged around watching TV and just relaxing for the rest of the day. We stayed naked, but we didn’t do anything sexual again, which was fine with me. Eventually, her mom called to ask if she needed to stop by the store for anything on her way home. I told her she didn’t and Erin and I got dressed. When Ms. Hartley got home, she didn’t suspect a thing.

Before leaving that day, I managed to mention to Erin to think about what I asked her to think about and let me know tomorrow what she had decided, if anything. I also told her that if it took more than one night to decide, that was fine, too. I just wanted her to be happy.

I went home hoping she would decide to fool around with me, of course, but I honestly would understand if she didn’t want to. I guess bisexuality isn’t for everyone.

*******

Erin lay in her bed that night thinking about what had transpired during the day. She was a bit disgusted at first when she found out Cheryl liked to do things with girls, more than just getting herself off. Then again, she had been a little disappointed when Cheryl hadn’t kissed her, even though the thought that her own juices from her puss were in Cheryl’s mouth had flashed through her mind at that moment when Cheryl had leaned over to her.

Erin began to wonder what her puss tasted like, exactly. Cheryl had seemed to love the taste of her own pussy juices. Was it possible? Could pussy cream actually taste good? As she lay in bed thinking about what they’d done, she had gotten wet, which made her wonder whether or not she also liked girls. Was that a sure sign she was bi? Now she wondered what would happen if she dipped her finger inside herself and tasted it.

Just a little bit, she thought to herself. Just enough to know what it tastes like. Turning on her bedside lamp, she reached down to her pussy, pushing her hand beneath the waistband of her panties and listening to make sure her mom wasn’t coming down the hall to her room. She dipped her middle finger inside her puss and was surprised to find she was totally wet down there. She got some of her spunk on her finger and lifted it to her face. It was clear for the most part, and kind of thick like honey, but not that thick. It was funny she hadn’t noticed that before. In fact, she’d barely paid attention, thinking it was just messy. She had always used a tissue to wipe it off or had washed her hands after. Now she was actually planning to taste it.

She held her wet finger to her nose and sniffed. It had a musky kind of smell to it, but not really unpleasant, just different. She’d noticed it before when she was sitting down, but hadn’t given it much thought. She took the tip of her tongue and touched it to her finger, getting the smallest amount possible on her tongue as a quick test to see if it tasted disgusting.

She barely tasted anything at all. Then deciding if she were going to taste it, she should just go for it, like taking a bad-tasting medicine, she plunged her slick finger into her mouth and sucked on it.

She was surprised to find that while it wasn’t the best tasting thing she’d ever put in her mouth, it was far from unpleasant. She reached down to her puss again, and got even more of her juices on her finger. Bringing it to her mouth, she immediately placed the finger inside again and lay there coming to grips with the idea that she liked it, especially when it was warm, as it was for the second taste.

She repeated this process several times before deciding to go ahead and get herself off for the third time that day and see if the flavor was any different when she had come.

Ten minutes later, she had her answer. It tasted about the same, and she realized she really, really liked it. Looking down at her bare pubes, she realized she was carrying this delicious honeypot with her wherever she went. She wanted to kick herself for being such a scared-y cat.

Then she began to wonder if Cheryl tasted the same as she did. Or was every girl different? Her mind wandered to thinking about her friend Julia, who had said a few things that suggested she had discovered masturbation. Erin wondered if she, too, liked the taste of her pussy-honey.

As she thought of Cheryl again, she realized maybe she was bisexual and didn’t know it until now. She was picturing her so-called companion naked and then she began to wonder what it would feel like to have Cheryl’s tongue on her pussy. That led to wondering what it would be like to put her own mouth on Cheryl’s pussy.

She decided she would stop being a baby and try it at least. She had tried tasting herself and that ended up good. So why not try sex with another girl?

Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come. “No pun intended,” she whispered to herself, and giggled before turning her bedside lamp off and going to sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 43

Full Time Companionship

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

Two years had passed since that summer. Quite a few times since then, Marie and I or Deanna and I had sat outside, looking up at the moon, talking about our futures and making out. There were a number of times all three of us would sit outside doing the same, only taking turns with which pair was kissing. Of course, that always led to a lot more.

There was also the time Deanna had dared Marie and me to go into the bathroom at a McDonald’s, strip down to our panties and bras, and run out to our bikes and ride home like that. It’s a wonder we weren’t arrested. But I have to admit it was fun. We laughed the entire ride home, which was at least a mile. I think most people must have thought we were wearing bikinis. Only a few people stared, as if asking themselves if they were seeing what they thought they were seeing. Marie had even stood up on her bike pedals and pulled the back of her panties down and mooned this old couple out for a walk. I heard the old woman say, “Oh, my word!” The man, however, didn’t say anything, at least as far as I heard. I think he may have enjoyed the view.

I had engaged in countless sexual acts with my friends, my mother, and my sister, as well as two of her friends who came to enjoy what girls could do together. There was Carmen, of course, and she’d met a girl named Bianca too. They were very much like Deanna, Marie, and me. Inseparable and into whatever fun three girls could find, especially in the bedroom, or some other place that could serve the same purpose. Of course, I had also enjoyed having sex with Bianca, who was a sexy little thing. Bianca was bi, and she talked about how much she liked fucking guys. She said she’d fucked a cousin of hers who was eighteen. She and the cousin started when she was ten and the cousin was sixteen. I told her I bet the cousin had a lot of fun with her. She just smiled and said, “Yeah, and I have fun with him, too.”

I also got to have sex with Marie and her mom on a number of occasions. She enjoyed watching Marie and me more than anything, unless it was getting her toes sucked. That woman could have orgasms if someone sucked her toes. Marie had warned me about her mom’s foot fetish, so it hadn’t surprised me when we finally got in bed together. She would even come get me out of bed where I was sleeping with Marie and take me into her bed for sex. I didn’t mind, though I have never figured out the attraction of having one’s toes licked and sucked. It felt okay to me when she ‘worshiped’ my feet, as she called it, but it wasn’t anything special. Oh, well, to each her own.

Anyway, the past two years had worked into a routine of sorts. I had turned fifteen and had just finished my freshman year of high school. Marie and I were still lovers, and Deanna was still an almost daily part of my life as well. Jenna had turned twelve recently, and her boobs were coming along wonderfully. They were now like two small, barely B-cup-sized half-oranges, capped by pink nipples that grew a darker shade when they were excited.

Mom had let me begin sharing my bedroom with Jenna — more out of necessity than anything else, but more on that later — so now we were “roomies” and slept together every night. That was fine with us. Sometimes one of us would wake up in the night from having a sexy dream and play the sleep seduction game with the other. Jenna still slept like the dead, but undressing her wasn’t a problem because we always slept in the nude now. We also shaved and waxed each other every weekend to keep our pussies bare.

We still waited for the day that Cindy, Jenna’s mom, would show up at our door. We assumed she was still alive, but it wasn’t always easy to continue believing that.

My aunt Emmy had taken a lover, which was the biggest reason Jenna and I had started rooming together. Emmy and her girlfriend had moved in with us. Emmy was twenty-five now, and her lover was none other than my former English teacher, Danni Patterson. They were the same age. Mom had introduced them one night when Danni came over for some fun and Emmy was there. They had hit it off immediately, and Danni had ended up going home with Emmy after the little orgy. Emmy had run into some financial problems and Mom had let them move in with us.

Mom also had a frequent lover, Randi Barrett. I’d had sex with her and her twin sister Ronni before, along with Emily, Ronni’s daughter. Ronni had to move away because of her husband’s job moving him to Seattle, but Randi ended up meeting my mom when she became a production assistant for the production company Mom worked for. Randi didn’t live with us, but she was around a lot. And of course, Mom didn’t mind if the rest of us enjoyed Randi’s talents as well. She certainly enjoyed ours!

I continued to seethe about the man who impregnated my mom, and I still vowed to get back at him one day. The ass-wipe had raped her to produce me, and he also raped my little sister Jenna when she was very young. Not only that, but he had ‘sold’ Cindy to another pimp after he decided she owed him money that I still thought should rightfully be hers. I considered my revenge on this shit-heel to be the number one goal of my life. It would take time, but I swore to myself he would get what was coming to him.

He was a sleazeball. It was my fondest wish that he would one day be a prison inmate, where he would become the favorite play-toy of a muscle-bound guy who would pass him around to his friends. And I further hoped the muscle-bound guy had more friends at the prison than anyone else.

Still, life goes on. There are girls to seduce and fun to have.

That summer when I was fifteen, I actually got a paying job. It was a babysitting job, like before when I watched Emily, but there were differences. First, it was an everyday thing during the week while the girl’s mom was at work, so it was full time. It cut into my time with Deanna and Marie, but it paid well, and they actually had an indoor pool for even more of a great time. Next, the girl in question was eleven, so she wasn’t a little girl but a blossoming pre-teen. I was scrupulously called a “companion,” not a babysitter so that the girl would even accept my presence. She considered it an insult to have a “babysitter.”

And oh yes, the girl was as hot as Death Valley in July.

Her name was Erin, and she had blonde hair to her shoulders, with bangs. She just parted it down the middle and let it go. She had a cute nose that turned up slightly at the tip, and the most brilliant blue eyes I’d ever seen on a girl. They were a stunning, clear blue that I thought must hook everyone she looked at.

Unfortunately, her beauty didn’t extend to her personality, at least not at first.

The mom hired me because the previous summer, left to her own devices, Erin had gotten into quite a bit of trouble, including thumbing a ride to the mall where she was picked up for shoplifting. Pretty bold for a girl who was only ten at that time.

The problem was she really resented me being there at all. My first day, her mom kept going on about how I was a companion, not a babysitter. Erin wasn’t having any of it. I witnessed an argument I felt was better discussed when I wasn’t there, but in the end, Erin’s mom, of course, won. I was going to be with Erin every day until her mom got home, and that was that.

Erin’s mom was the manager of an office supply company, so she worked fairly regular hours, but she would call home every afternoon to see how the day went and to ask if she needed to pick anything up from the grocery store. This ended up working out very well for me. I always had at least a thirty-minute warning that the mom would be home. What luck!

That first day, though, nothing looked good about the job except the money. Erin was petulant and obnoxious. When her mom got home, Erin greeted her with, “Mom, you need to fire Cheryl. She left for about three hours today. And believe it or not, I managed not to get into trouble or burn the house down.”

I looked at Erin with the wide-eyed look of someone totally shocked by the words she’d heard. “That is not true!” I said. Looking at her mom, Ms. Hartley, I added, “I was here all day! I swear!”

“Don’t worry, Cheryl,” Ms. Hartley said. “I know she’s just trying to get rid of you so she can do whatever she wants.” Then she looked at Erin and said, “I certainly hope Cheryl doesn’t do something she shouldn’t, because it would take a lot for me to believe you, Erin. I know what game you’re playing here.”

“Shit!” Erin said, stomping off.

“And stop that cussing! For that, you can spend the rest of the evening in your room!”

“Don’t worry! I wouldn’t spend it out here with you for anything!” Erin shouted as she made her noisy way to her room, slamming the door behind her.

I could hear from her voice that she’d started crying. This girl hated my guts! And I was actually a nice person. We could have a lot of fun if she’d just let me be her friend.

“I’m sorry. She’s really a sweet girl, but since my husband left me, she has grown more and more difficult. Her dad’s a jerk and pays her no attention.” Ms. Hartley was tearing up telling me this. I could see it was eating her up inside.

“The man who got my mom pregnant with me is a jerk too,” I said. “I don’t even call him my dad. I think Erin and I might have a lot in common. I’ll give it a try again tomorrow,” I said.

“Thank you for not quitting on me… or Erin,” she said and came over to hug me.

I returned the hug and left, climbing on my bike to ride the few blocks to my home.

That night, I thought about how I could convince Erin I’m not the bad guy, that I could be a lot of fun, and a trustworthy friend to talk about problems with. When I set out for the Hartleys’ the next day, I had a plan in mind. I hoped it wouldn’t backfire on me. Then again, if she told her mom what I’d tried to do, Ms. Hartley wouldn’t believe her anyway.

When Ms. Hartley left for work, Erin glared daggers at me until she got up to go to her room. I figured she would do that, and I waited until then on purpose. I could easily block her door to prevent her leaving before I’d had my say. There were at least four exits from the great room where she’d been sitting and pouting.

I got up and went to her room. The door was locked.

“Erin?”

“Go away. I don’t need a babysitter or companion or anything else.”

“I figured everybody could use a friend,” I said.

“Not me,” she answered.

“Don’t be ridiculous. The fact is I’m a lot of fun.”

“Yeah, I’ve been having a blast with you here,” she said. “Go away.”

But I wouldn’t accept that answer. I knew if this was going to work, I’d have to weather any storm she tossed my way until she listened to me.

“Sorry. I’m not leaving.”

“Yeah, I know. Mom’s paying you.”

“No, I mean I’m not leaving from this spot until you let me in and at least hear me out. I’m serious. We can have a LOT of fun together.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Did you know my mom’s a porn star?”

That had at least some kind of effect. She said nothing for about ten seconds. No witty or snarky comebacks at all.

“Did you hear me?” I asked, more to keep the conversation going than anything else.

“Yeah. I heard.” There was another pause. “Are you telling me the truth, or are you shitting me just to get me talking?”

“It’s the truth. I swear. Please let me in. I just want to talk. Also, the man who got my mom pregnant with me is even more of a shitheel than your dad. We really have a lot in common.”

The doorknob shook some and the door opened. I was in!

Erin had a suspicious look on her face, though, as if figuring she would listen to me for a minute or two and if I was full of shit, she’d boot me out again.

I prayed she wouldn’t kick me out of her room. There was a reason my first revelation about myself involved my mom’s career. That topic would lead to talking about sex, which could lead to other things.

“Truce? Please?” I said.

She looked wary, mistrustful, and on the edge of belligerence. “Temporary truce,” she said. I figured it was as good as I would get for now.

“Let’s sit,” I said, indicating her bed. She got up on it, easily pulling her legs into a knot like someone about to meditate. I just squatted, pulling my feet under me and resting my elbows on my knees, which were sticking out toward my sides.

I had worn a skirt that day because I wanted to let her see my panties at some point. Now my legs were spread wide, and my panties were on full display. She definitely noticed. The entire time I talked, her eyes would look at my face then down at my crotch. It was like she was watching an odd tennis match.

“My mom really is a porn star,” I began. “Have you ever watched any porn?”

“No.”

“Have you ever wondered what it was like?”

“You’re trying to get me to admit to things so you can tell my mom, aren’t you?”

I sighed. This would be harder than I thought.

“No. In fact, we could have a lot of fun here and I wouldn’t say jack shit to your mom,” I said. Then I asked her, “What’s one thing you do that your mom knows you do but doesn’t like that you do it?”

“What do you mean?” She furrowed her brow, trying to understand me.

“Like, do you smoke cigarettes? Do you listen to rap music that has lots of cussing and talks bad about women? That kind of thing.”

“Not really. Nothing she knows about anyway. And I intend to keep it that way.”

“How about if I do something I know your mom wouldn’t like. Then you’d have something on me. That way you’ll understand that I’m fine with you doing anything that won’t put your life or health in danger.”

“Like what?” she asked, growing curious.

“Do you ever touch yourself?”

“Touch myself?”

“Yeah, you know. Masturbate?”

She shrugged, but her blush told me she did, or at least had tried it.

I laughed a little. “Come on, don’t shrug. Either you’ve touched your pussy because it feels good, or you haven’t. I don’t care which answer you give as long as it’s the truth.”

“Maybe.”

Again, I saw it was as good an answer as I was going to get from her about that.

Reaching down to my panties, I hooked my thumbs in the waistband and tugged them down, exposing my pussy to her.

Her jaw hung open.

“So, do you think your mom would be okay with that? Would she not care that I just showed you my pussy?”

“She wouldn’t like it at all.”

“What about you? Do you like that I did that?”

She shrugged again. “I guess it was kinda wild. I never thought you’d do anything like that. I kinda figured you were a straight arrow. You know. A goody-goody.”

“Far from it, girl,” I said, and reached down and began to rub myself, gently at first just to give her the idea of what I intended to do.

“Holy fuck,” she said, nearly a whisper.

“I don’t know about you, but I love to do this. I do it all the time.”

She glanced at my face long enough to say, “Really?” before returning her gaze to my pussy.

“Oh, yeah. Really. But you can’t tell your mom. Here’s the deal. As long as what you do doesn’t hurt anyone, including you, I won’t tell your mom. That means no shoplifting or smoking cigarettes or jumping off the roof or anything like that, okay? Is it a deal?”

She looked at me and smiled for the first time since we’d met. It wasn’t a big smile, but I’d take it over the pouting and attitude I’d been getting.

“Deal,” she said.

“So tell me the truth. You ever do this?”

She blushed and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Do you come?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you feel like doing it right now?”

“Yeah.” She grinned at me.

“Then what are you waiting for?” I laughed again.

“You’re sure this isn’t some trick to get me in trouble?”

“Sure. I’m gonna tell your mom, ‘Ms. Hartley, I started masturbating in front of your daughter today and she masturbated too. I think she needs to be grounded for a year.”

This time she grinned, and I said, “I repeat. What are you waiting for? The orgasms are waiting!”

Uncoiling her legs and reaching down to her pants, she undid the belt, unsnapped her jeans, and pulled them down to her knees. Her panties followed.

She had a cute pussy with only a little bit of peach fuzz, which I could barely see since she was a natural blonde. She started to rub her clit with one finger, circling it and getting it moist.

“Why don’t we get naked?” I asked. She grinned at me again and her eyes fell to my still-covered boobs. I could see she was anxious to know what they looked like.

I began removing my clothes, and she did the same. When I pulled my bra off, she was staring at my tits. They weren’t much, really, still a 34B, but their shape was, I thought, magnificent.

As we sat back down on the bed, our legs once again folded to reveal our pussies to the other, she asked, “How long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was little, like six. Been coming that long, too.”

“Wow. I’ve only been coming for about six months, but it wasn’t for lack of trying. I finally got some stuff to read about it and discovered my clit.”

“How old were you the first time you touched it because it felt good?”

“I don’t know, but I was really little. Five maybe?”

“My mom says I was probably doing it in the womb.”

“Your mom knows you play with yourself?”

“Sure,” I said. “She’s VERY open about sex, as you might imagine.”

“Shit. I wish my mom was like that,” Erin said, starting to really get into what we were doing.

“Maybe she is and you just don’t know it. All women know their kids are going to do this eventually. Maybe she just isn’t aware you’re already doing it.”

“Really? You think my mom knows, like, you do this?”

“I don’t think she’s thought about it, but if asked, she would probably say that she felt I probably did. But don’t ask her. That would lead to questions about what we are doing.”

“Okay,” she said, and lay back on her bed, spread her legs farther, and started in on her pussy in earnest. “Bet I can get there first,” she said.

“You’re on,” I answered, and sat with my back against the headboard of the bed so I could watch her. My pussy was almost next to her head, and she turned her head to watch my fingers do their magic. Then she sat up as well to get a better angle to watch me. This also made it easier for her to look at my boobs.

Our fingers were flying over our pussies, making wet noises as we smeared the juices while pleasuring ourselves. I held off so she could “win” this time. I wanted this first time together to be a completely positive experience for her. I hadn’t even mentioned what we could do to each other, and I was hoping she would be receptive to the idea.

Soon, Erin was coming. Her moans and sighs reached a peak and her hand stopped its motion and she gripped her pussy, holding it as the throbbing provided her the exquisite torture of an orgasm.

Once she had come, she looked at me and smiled, “Told ya,” she said.

I looked into her face and gave my body to my climax. It rolled through me, gripping my stomach muscles into almost violent clinches as my body hunched itself in reaction to coming. I tried to keep my eyes open to watch her reaction and succeeded for the most part. She was obviously fascinated by watching me reach my sexual peak. I could almost see her drooling she was so mesmerized by the sight.

I glanced at my watch. It was only 8:37 in the morning.

“Does your mom ever come home for lunch?” I asked.

“Nope,” she said. “I asked her once why she didn’t, and she said it took her nearly a half hour to get home. Since she only has an hour, that would mean she would only be able to come inside and use the bathroom before she had to go back to work.”

“What about if she gets sick and is coming home early?”

“She’d call. That’s happened before, and that’s what she’s done every time. You’ll see. She always calls before coming home in case I need something. Every day. She called yesterday, didn’t she?”

“Yeah,” I said, not believing how great this news was.

“And she’ll call today too. She told me she always calls because she doesn’t want to have to leave the house to go pick something up after she gets home.”

“You have no idea what great news this is.”

“Why?”

“You like being naked?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“If it’s true she always calls, we can just be naked all day if we want. We can swim naked, eat lunch naked. Everything. And if we get an urge to do… well… something, we can.”

Her grin grew even bigger than it had been earlier.

“Was what we just did the ‘something’ you just mentioned?”

“Well, yes, but it’s not all of the ‘something,'” I answered, grinning back at her.

Her brow furrowed inquisitively. “What else is there, then?”

Deciding to make her a bit impatient to know, I said, “You’ll see,” and left it at that for the moment.

She gave me a mild “Uh” of incredulity and stared at me with a ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ look, her mouth slightly open.

I just smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll tell you after we have a swim in the pool. In the meantime, just know that it’s a lot more fun than what we just did.”

Rising from the bed, I stepped to her door, looked back at her naked, prone body, and said, “Last one in the pool naked is a rotten egg!” Then I began to hurry to the indoor pool with Erin hot on my heels.

Continue on to Chapter 42

Speaking of Bombshells

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

Gwen arrived home and opened the door with apprehension. She realized she would feel that way for a very long time whenever she got home. She felt as if she’d been violated in a way that would hold her hostage for the rest of her life.

On the way home from Kayleigh’s house, she’d thought about the porn star’s explanation of why Mark Craven had thrown them the bone he had, telling Gwen for Kayleigh’s sake what had happened to Cindy. It just didn’t ring true. Kayleigh had introduced him to a woman with a unique talent that she was willing to have filmed? Craven, by admitting his knowledge of what had happened to Cindy, had basically admitted to being involved in adult human trafficking of the worst sort. He was a partner in crime to someone who was basically holding a person against her will, which was the legal definition of kidnapping. This was no small crime he had confessed to. Did Kayleigh have something on him? Was that the reason for his quick confession?

Gwen didn’t know, but one thing she did know was that the story about introducing him to Lynnette Baxter was a cover story, and not a very good one at that.

Her instincts as a detective were firing on all cylinders, and they were telling her Kayleigh had lied. But why? What was the truth that Kayleigh didn’t want her to know?

*******

Mom and I stared at each other as Jenna ran from the room, screaming that the man in the picture was the same man who had raped her when she was little. We followed Jenna to her room, where she lay on her bed sobbing.

We joined her in the bed, lying beside her and holding her as we tried to soothe her, shushing her and telling her it would be okay. Each of us doing our best to help her feel better by telling her that we would get him one day for what he’d done to her.

Mom had raised me believing that consent was more important than anything else when having sex with someone. She had told me countless times when I was little that if what we were doing bothered me at all, I should say so, and she would have no problem with my decision for us to stop. I’d spent my life since age six hearing the words, “What we do is up to you.” She was so careful about my consent that for the first two years of our incestuous relationship she asked me almost daily if I was still okay with it. I remember getting annoyed with the question at one point, but she just told me to get used to it because she would ask until she was absolutely certain I would always be fine with the idea of having sex with my mother.

As we lay in the bed with Jenna, I was angry enough that I wanted to kill someone for the first time in my life, and I said so.

“No, honey,” Mom said. “First, if you ever did that to anyone and went to jail, I would never forgive myself. Second, this is the one person I could never let you harm.”

I looked at Mom, my brow furrowed with confusion. Of course, I knew Mom would never want me to actually kill anyone, but that last statement was very odd.

As we lay there comforting Jenna, I noticed Mom would look at me then back at Jenna before looking at me again, worry etching her face with frown lines. Because I knew my mom so well, I understood she was wrestling with whether or not to tell me something. I knew it was something I probably didn’t want to hear, but Mom was trying to decide if she should tell me anyway.

A hundred strange ideas about what she would say if she decided to tell me whatever it was ran through my mind. At first I thought Mom had maybe killed someone herself, but I dismissed that as too weird. She didn’t have it in her to kill another person, no matter the reason, anymore than I did. I knew it had something to do with Mr. Craven, though, because of her last statement.

She’d said she could never let me harm him. I ran this over in my mind. Then it hit me. Was she in love with this monster? If so, why hadn’t I known that before? She never hid her relationships from me. Never.

But if that wasn’t what she wanted to tell me, what was?

Finally, I just looked at her and said, “Tell me.”

At first she acted as if she didn’t know what I was talking about. “Tell you what?”

“Whatever it is you’re trying to decide whether or not to tell me.”

If we had been in any other circumstance, her look would have made me laugh. Her eyes widened in surprise as it occurred to her that I had correctly interpreted her reactions.

“What makes you think I’m deciding whether or not to tell you something?” she asked.

“Because, I see it in your face. It’s the same way you looked at me when you were considering telling me about you and Grandma. It’s your ‘should I tell her?’ look.”

She looked down at Jenna, whose sobbing had subsided to gentle weeping, before looking back at me. “Okay, but later. We have to tend to your sister’s needs first.”

We lay with Jenna for the next hour, calming her and telling her how much we loved her and that we would do something to get back at Mr. Craven for raping her.

Finally, exhausted from the party the night before and the shock of seeing her rapist’s picture on our TV screen, Jenna fell asleep. Mom and I stripped her to her panties and tucked her in before going to the kitchen to talk and have something to eat.

When we were seated at the table with turkey sandwiches, I said, “Okay, so what is it you don’t know whether or not to tell me?”

“I’m still not sure if I should tell you, sweetie. It’s a rather big thing. And I know for certain you’d rather not know.”

The killing thing hit me again, and I said, “Did you kill someone?”

That shocked her. “Of course not! Why would you think that?”

“Well, you said you couldn’t let me kill someone, and that’s when you started looking like you might tell me something.”

“Cheryl Leanne Taylor! How could you think something like that about me?”

“I didn’t really think it,” I said. “I just sorta… well… thought it but didn’t believe it.”

“I can’t believe you asked me that,” she said. She seemed really upset by the fact I had done so.

“I’m sorry. I just… well, I just don’t know what you could be thinking of telling me. I know it’s something really big because you don’t get that look unless it is.”

“Well, it’s big but not that big,” Mom said, sipping her coffee.

“Then tell me,” I said.

“You’re not going to leave this alone, are you?” she asked.

“No.”

Sighing, she took another sip from her coffee and looked me in the eye. Then, apparently unable to hold that gaze, she looked back at her coffee cup.

Still staring at her mug, she asked, “You remember what I told you about your dad?”

“Yeah.” Mom had told me I was the result of her boyfriend not using a condom one time when they’d made a homemade porn video. I’d seen it, even.

“Well, I’ve always known he wasn’t your dad. That video was made a full year before you were born. I never got pregnant from him.”

I was stunned. He wasn’t my dad? “What? Why?–” I couldn’t form the questions raging through my mind.

“I didn’t want to tell you the truth, honey. I didn’t want you to know.”

Tears stung my eyes and overflowed, slipping down my cheeks. “Know what?” I asked, all the while hoping she would tell me it was a joke. A bad joke.

“I was raped.”

“You–?” So that was it. The rape of Jenna was bringing her own rape to the forefront of her mind, forcing her to think about the lie she’d been living.

“Yes,” Mom said. “I’m sorry, baby. I wanted to tell you but I didn’t want you to think you were the product of something so ugly.” Now her tears were running down her cheeks as well. She reached out to hold me, and for the first time in my life, I pulled back, not wanting the contact. It hurt me to see the hurt in her eyes, but I still refused her touch.

“Tell me about it,” I said. “Were you walking along and dragged into an alley? Kidnapped? What?”

Instead of holding me, her hands grasped each other in an effort to stop the trembling.

“It was a date rape.”

“You knew the guy?”

She looked at me. I could see the shame in her eyes, glowing behind the tears.

“I’m sorry, baby,” she sobbed. “I should have told you, but I couldn’t.”

“Why are you telling me now?” I sobbed. “Why now?”

“Because… because it’s all coming back to haunt me… to haunt Jenna.”

“Who was it? Who’s my father?” I asked her, forcing her to tell me. It wasn’t that I wanted a relationship with him. He’d raped my mom. I just wanted to know.

My mother’s face crumbled into a thousand pieces as she told me the name. I found myself thinking of the nursery rhyme ‘Humpty Dumpty,’ where all the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t put Humpty together again. I realized my biggest wish at that moment would be that we could put my mom’s face back together again. To make things the way they had been before.

She was right. At thirteen, I would rather have lived the lie.

But my life broke in two that day, as well. Forever, my life would be measured by what happened before I knew who my father really was and after I knew it.

Because my father was the devil in the flesh.

My mother looked at me and sobbed the words she’d been holding in for over thirteen years. “Mark Craven. Mr. Craven, who also raped Jenna, is your father.”

I sat speechless, unable to even think. That monster was my father? Again, my mind went into a strange place and had weird thoughts, as I pictured Luke Skywalker finding out his parental history. I knew how he felt. It would be funny if it weren’t so tragic.

When I found my voice, I needed to know there wasn’t a possibility it wasn’t someone else. “How do you know? Couldn’t it be another man you had sex with?”

“No, baby. He was the only one I had sex with since making the movie three months before, and I didn’t have sex with a man again until I turned eighteen and made my first porn movie. You were already two by that time.”

Sobbing from deep within my chest, I got up to go look at the picture of the man who’d raped my mom and my baby sister, leaving my mother still in the kitchen. Sure, raping my mom had been what gave me life, but that didn’t mean I had to love the man or even like him. He was a rapist, pure and simple. Now I understood why my Mom was so serious about consent.

I looked at his picture, memorizing every line of his face, every feature that separated his face from a billion others.

And I made my vow.

“One day I’ll pay you back, you fucker,” I mumbled to the picture on the screen, doing my best to control the sobs. “I’ll get you back for raping my mom and my baby sister.” I continued to stare at him. “And when I do, you’ll know it’s me and you’ll know why I’m doing it. Just remember, you ass wipe, paybacks are hell.” I stood there and tried to compose myself a bit. I finally stopped crying. I was angrier than anything else at this point.

After I had finally gotten control, I returned to Mom. I had a few more questions.

Sitting down in my chair, I looked at Mom and said, “Why did you say that about how he was the one person you didn’t want me to hurt?”

“It’s kind of a long story,” Mom said. “Do you want to hear it?”

I nodded. “In for a penny…” I said.

“When Mark found out I was pregnant, he denied you were his, of course. Men always seem to do that, and it was fine with me. I didn’t want to marry him or anything. I just wanted financial help raising you.

“He continued to deny you were his, but he was willing to help me make money by putting me in his stable of girls. I made good money, but I didn’t really begin raking it in until my porn career took off.”

I interrupted her explanation. “He denied I was his but he helped you financially?” This made no sense to me.

“Honey, he made more than I did from my work. He still does. It wasn’t money out of his pocket, really. It was the money I made turning tricks, and now it’s from the sale of my movies.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of it like that,” I said. Then another question hit me that I wanted answered. “Why didn’t you go to the police after he raped you? You could’ve had him arrested.”

“Honey, he was a very powerful man. Still is. I was attracted to that and when he asked me out, I couldn’t believe a man like that wanted to take me on a date. He was already in his thirties, and I was barely fifteen. I was mesmerized by what I saw as his sophistication.”

“What did Grandma think of you going out with this older guy?”

“Grandma didn’t know. I told her I was spending the night with a friend.”

Then Mom continued with her explanation. “Originally, I had planned to go to bed with him, so in a way it was almost like consensual sex, but in reality it wasn’t. We went up to his penthouse apartment and he gave me champagne, and not the cheap stuff, either. I’d finished the first glass and he just grabbed me and threw me down on the sofa. He practically tore my clothes off; some of them did get ripped. Then he was on top of me and putting his dick inside me.

“The truth is after it was over I never mentioned the word rape. At least not then. I acted as though I wanted it. He asked me if I wanted to make a lot of money. ‘I could make you a millionaire if you want,’ he said. I was still wanting to go far in life, and to be honest I wanted to be what I am today, even then. I knew who he was. After all, our date had consisted of dropping in on a shoot where I watched two girls fuck this guy and each other. I was really horny right up to the point he forced himself on me. I guess it was more like unfulfilling sex than it was rape.”

“Don’t say that, Mom. If he forced himself on you, it was rape, no matter what your intentions for the evening were.”

“In any case, he got what he wanted. After I had you, I contacted him. He had no idea I had gotten pregnant until then. I reminded him he’d offered to make me a millionaire. He said I was still too young to do film work, but that he had a spot for me if I was willing to use my, as he put it, ‘magnificent body’ to make the cash.

“I was barely sixteen with no money, no future, and a baby I had to support. It was an easy decision.”

“Couldn’t he get into trouble using a sixteen-year-old girl for prostitution? What was the difference between that and making porn movies?” I asked.

“Honey, with porn movies, the production company is required to maintain certified copies of the birth certificates of everyone who appears in a movie and is involved in any part of a sex scene, even as a voyeur. Otherwise, it’s child porn. Since prostitution is illegal anyway, there are plenty of girls out there who are underage. The pimps aren’t required to keep any records at all.

“So that’s how you started as a call girl?” I asked.

“Yes. Once I moved over to the film side of the operation, I mentioned to him that what he’d done was without my consent and therefore it was rape.”

Mom looked at me and our eyes met. I could see she wanted to make sure I got this next part.

“He told me he didn’t give a fuck what it was. He said he took what he wanted, and he had wanted me. He mentioned that if I ever came after him for the rape, though he always referred to it as ‘alleged rape,’ that he would make sure not only would I regret it, but so would you and my mother. He even knew the address where she lived back east. He quoted it to me, down to the apartment number.

“That’s why you can’t harm him, sweetie. He’s very powerful and his reach goes all the way to Grandma’s apartment. If you tried to hurt him, he’d take it out on you, me, and Grandma. Probably Jenna too.”

She smiled at me and reached out to brush my hair behind my ears. “Besides, he may have raped me, but look at the beautiful girl I got for those ten minutes of torture. I would say you’re worth it.”

“But, Mom, he raped you! And he raped Jenna when she was just a little girl. Don’t you want to get back at him?”

“Of course, I do. But not so much I would gamble your life, Jenna’s life, and my mother’s.”

“What about your life?” I asked, wondering why she left herself out.

“No, I’d gamble it if my life was the only thing I could lose. But I know I could never lose you or Jenna or Grandma.”

“So why did he tell Gwen he owed you?”

“I guess because he knows down deep that you are his, and he denied it for selfish reasons. Maybe since he knows I’m taking care of Cindy’s daughter that he sort of owes me for that, too.”

I had one final question. “Did he keep his promise?”

“What promise?” Mom had no idea what I meant, of course.

“To make you a millionaire. Mom, I don’t really know anything about the money side of our life. Are you what he said you’d be? A millionaire?”

“Honey, this house is worth nearly two million. I have lots of money invested in stocks and bonds. Money market accounts. I have a very good financial advisor. Yes, he kept his promise. I’ll say that for him. But keep in mind, the more money I make the more he makes, and what he makes would dwarf what I make.”

After hearing my mother explain why I shouldn’t harm the ass wipe, I decided I wouldn’t do anything right now, but I still planned to do something one day. I was determined he would pay one day. I went to my room and spent the next hour fantasizing about doing all sorts of things to the man who had impregnated my mother. A lot of my fantasy involved rope, scissors, his penis, and a very long time at my task. Once I knew about his relationship to me, I never referred to him as my father or my dad. He was always ‘ass wipe’ or ‘the man who impregnated my mom.’ Nothing else.

I suddenly understood the words of Khan in that Star Trek movie my mom and I watched one time on tape. I never had understood the words before. “Revenge is a dish best served cold.” It became my life’s obsession. I didn’t know it was from Shakespeare then, but it’s amazing how spot on that guy could be about things.

*******

Wednesday finally arrived. The last day of school. My seventh grade year had ended. I kept ass wipe in the back of my mind and did my best to enjoy my summer. I was thirteen and constantly horny, it seemed.

That was the summer that Jenna first molested me in my sleep. Soon, I was returning the favor. It became a game to see how long we could do things to the other without waking our prey. We even began to time it to the second with the stopwatch we had on our wristwatches.

I ended up holding the record for that summer at 19 minutes 47 seconds. I began to wonder if I could become a cat burglar or something. But instead of jewelry, I would steal sleep tops and panties while tasting all the girls and women in the house.

One morning Mom saw me sneaking naked through the house to Jenna’s room.

“Molestation time?” she asked.

I looked at her. This was about six weeks after she’d told me the truth of my birth, and things were getting back to normal. I had forgiven her during a tearful apology by both of us. I had told her I was also sorry for pulling away from her embrace, and she’d said she understood even through the pain that had caused her. And I told her I didn’t blame her for who my father was, that I knew she’d made up that story to protect me and that it was a sort of wish for her.

My relationship with my mom hadn’t gone sour. In fact, I adored her more than ever.

“Yeah,” I whispered to answer her question even though I was still way too far from Jenna’s room to be heard. “But it’s a seduction, not a molestation.”

“Sorry. Mind if I watch?” she asked.

“You have to be quiet,” I whispered. Normally, my mom would be hands-down against doing something like this, but she knew we enjoyed it. She even knew we’d made a sort of contest out of it. She understood that consent had been given in a sort of carte blanche way.

And besides, we were always horny, so it gave us the orgasms we craved.

Mom got up and crept down the hallway with me to Jenna’s door, stripping herself along the way and dropping various articles of clothing on the floor. She was naked by the time she entered Jenna’s room with me.

Before I moved to the bed and my sleeping beauty, I turned to Mom and kissed her, running a finger up her slit from her vagina to her clit as I did. She was already soaking wet, and I wondered what she’d been doing or thinking about before I got up and made my way to my little sister’s bed. She was much too wet for this to have happened just between the kitchen where she’d been drinking coffee and Jenna’s room.

I plunged my sticky wet finger into my mouth and savored the flavor of my mom’s pussy. The white goo covered my finger before I sucked it all off. Then I kissed my mom again, pushing my tongue into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself as well.

Approaching my sister, I started my stopwatch and moved quietly onto the bed, being careful not to disturb Jenna. Her breathing was deep and slow. She was totally asleep.

This was the point where I could remove her clothes without her knowing because she was so deeply asleep. I noticed she was wearing a cream-colored cami top and panties with Ren and Stimpy on them. They were a bit small for her, so I called them her Ren and Skimpy panties. She always laughed when I called them that and would do a sexy little dance in them when I said it, which of course was the biggest reason for making the play on words.

I carefully worked the little straps of the cami off her arms and gently pulled the soft material off over her head. I always removed her top first because that was the hardest article of clothing to remove without waking her.

Moving to her lower half, I hooked my fingers under the elastic band that formed the waistline of the panties. They were skimpy, as I said, and they were also very tight against her skin, so much so that she had a pronounced camel toe each time she wore them, which was another reason I knew she and I both liked these panties.

Gradually her bald pussy came into view as I edged the elastic over her slim hips. My mouth was already watering.

Once I had her naked, I touched her as softly as possible to avoid disturbing her sleep. I started with her nipples and newly swelling boobies. Her breasts had very recently begun to grow. This had started as nipple growth, first the left nipple then the right, over a period of a few weeks. She had what was known as ‘bee-sting’ boobs by this time, just softly protruding nipples forming a very small cone on each breast.

After tenderly tweaking her nipples, I moved my head down to her chest and gently suckled her. I started with her left nipple, teasing it with my tongue until I could feel it begin to stiffen from the erotic contact. I was always very careful with her boobs because of how painfully tender they could be when they began to grow.

It was always at this point that Jenna would begin the process of waking up, though it sometimes took a while for her to become awake enough to notice what was happening and say something. The sleeping person speaking clearly to indicate she knew what was going on was the cue to stop timing the sleep seduction. We had begun to call our game the Sleep Seduction to avoid the negative meaning of the word molestation. After all this wasn’t a molestation at all since both participants were very eager for it to happen.

As I licked and sucked her nipples, she gave a slight moan, indicating that even in her sleep, she was enjoying what was happening to her. I knew that somewhere in her mind she was having sexual thoughts, which often led to sexual dreams.

I took a chance this morning since Mom was watching — and playing with herself of course — and I turned Jenna over as gently as I could to be able to get to her butt.

Kneeling between her spread legs, I placed my wet tongue on her butthole, which had been cleaned during her bath the night before. I moved it slowly back and forth and she began to stir some more as her hips began moving just a slight bit, though not rhythmically as they normally would. Because she was asleep, her hips would move in a jerky rhythm, as if her body wanted to react but her mind was attempting to prevent her from feeling it.

I moved my mouth lower and licked at her slit, tasting the cream that was forming in her pussy due to what I’d been doing to her. Reaching between her legs, I placed my hands on her butt and my thumbs on her outer lips and spread the flesh there to reveal the slick treasure beneath. To say it looked delicious would not do justice to the beauty of my sister’s pussy. It looked heavenly.

In Greek mythology ambrosia was the food of the gods. I always felt when I spread a pussy and looked inside that I was looking at ambrosia, and I felt no different this time.

Pushing my face between her legs and butt cheeks, I managed to get my tongue inside the wet slit. I could hear breathing from both Jenna and Mom, who was now standing at the foot of the bed where she was masturbating while watching what I did.

From this position my nose was pressed into the lower crack of her ass. She was clean, so there was no foul odor to deal with. My tongue finally made contact with my baby sister’s clit, and I could hear the difference in the rhythm and depth of her breathing. She moaned and grunted slightly. Then I heard her say, “Oooh, yes” softly.

As much as I didn’t want to stop for even a second, I had to sit up and stop the timer on my watch. Twelve minutes, seven seconds. Not bad.

Swinging one leg over my sister’s body, I placed my pussy within easy reach of her mouth. She giggled softly and soon we were completely involved in a wild sixty-nine. She came first, of course, seeing she had a twelve minute head start, and my mom was the next to come, which again was no surprise since she’d been touching herself the entire time as well.

I was last, but it was an amazing orgasm. The throbbing of my clit and the clenching of my vagina that accompanied the climax felt as if heaven itself had decided to change its location to my pussy.

Soon, all three of us were lying in Jenna’s bed, cuddling and smooching. It was a wonderful morning, as many of them were that summer.

Mom let me have a slumber party a few weeks later as well. I invited all the girls who’d been at the last one, plus my Aunt Emmy and Deanna’s sister, Elizabeth, who was kidded quite a bit about her homemade videos when she was younger. Marie’s mother was also invited, but she declined because she had somewhere else to be that night. It was fine. I had all the other girls and women I loved there. My mom joined us of course, and it was a real blast to have her at the party.

All in all it was a wonderful couple of months off from school, despite what I’d learned at its beginning. It was a great summer because it was spent with my family as we did our best to capture the joy in our lives every day.

But I also thought about what I would do to get back at the ass wipe. I knew what I planned to do. All I needed was to set up the opportunity. I’d need help with that, along with a lot of luck.

That turned out to be several years coming.

Continue on to Chapter 41

Unexpected Visitors

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

At the moment when Cheryl and the girls began their game of Truth or Dare, Gwen was entering her home with a bag of groceries. She had stopped on the way home to pick up a few things.

When she saw the silhouette of the large man sitting in one of her dining chairs, she dropped the bag. The sound of eggs breaking seemed to fill the room for a brief second, then silence.

“I have a few questions to ask you.” It was Mitch. He reached up and turned on the reading lamp beside the chair. Both the chair and a lamp had been moved from their usual places so that Mitch could see her enter. She stared into his face, wondering if she would ever be seen again.

Mitch took out a .45 handgun and pointed it at Gwen. “Now, Ms. Fremont, private detective, suppose we dispense with the bullshit about you being some lady pimp wanting to expand your business.”

Gwen stared at Mitch, but all she could see was the dark hole at the end of the muzzle of the handgun. It looked like a long, dark tunnel that led to eternity. It held her, spellbound with fear.

“Ms. Fremont, you there?”

Her eyes jerked up to look at his face. She felt oddly surprised to see Mitch there. “Yeah. I mean, yes. I’m okay.”

“Have a seat,” Mitch said, indicating a second dining chair, which had also been moved. “Make yourself comfortable,” he added, as if he owned the house and Gwen was a guest. The dining chair faced Mitch from an angle to his right about ten feet from where he sat.

“So,” he continued, “what was the real reason you wanted to, well, do what you did?”

“You know I can’t divulge information about that,” Gwen said.

Mitch had seemed pleasant until that moment. He leaned forward and his eyes got hard, along with his voice. “Listen, lady, I’m going to divulge a bullet into your brain or you’re going to tell me everything about this case. Do you understand?”

Gwen considered trying to run for it, but as her body tensed to flee, she noticed Mitch’s chauffeur out of the corner of her eye. He was now blocking her only escape route from this boxed in room. She had no idea where he had been when she entered, probably hiding in the coat closet until she walked past it to sit down so he could do exactly what he was doing now — keep her from running.

“So I will ask once more,” Mitch continued, his voice calm again, as if he were asking her if she wanted some tea. “What was the real reason you approached me looking for a partnership with Mr. Craven?”

Gwen realized she had no choice. Mitch had probably been the one to kill Kinsey and maybe even Cindy. He would have no qualms about killing her. She could disappear just like Cindy. She would have to tell him and hope he wouldn’t kill her when she’d finished. She had never felt fear like this before. Until that day, she had never felt her life was in danger because of her job. The movies and TV made it look as if private detectives had their lives threatened on a daily basis, but that wasn’t true. She’d been in this business for seven years, and this was the first time she felt truly in danger of being killed. Oh, she’d had cheating husbands threaten her, but she knew those were the empty threats of bullies.

This was different. Mitch wasn’t a bully trying to scare her. He was a man who killed other people.

The fear welled up in her and she felt herself begin to cry. At the same time, Gwen’s bladder let go from fear and she felt the urine running down to the chair and onto the floor. Mitch just glanced down at the growing puddle and said, “Well?” Obviously, he’d seen this happen before.

“Are you going to kill me?” she asked, barely able to control the shaking of her voice.

“Not if you convince me I have no reason to,” he said. “So tell me what I want to know.” Now his voice gained an edge of impatience.

“I was hired to find out what happened to Cindy.”

“Who’s Cindy?” Mitch asked. The frightening thought that he’d killed so many people he had lost track of their names shot through Gwen’s mind.

“One of the call girls Mr. Craven had working for him.”

“Oh, that Cindy,” he said. His glance moved to focus his mind on a distant memory then returned to Gwen. “Why are you looking for her?”

“She has a daughter who would like to know what happened to her mother,” Gwen said. Even in her fright, she felt the anger rise in her that someone would deprive a child of her mother and allow the child to grow up wondering what had happened.

“Don’t tell me the daughter hired you. She’s only, what now? Ten, eleven?”

It surprised Gwen that this man knew so much about Jenna. Had they ever met? “No, Jenna didn’t hire me.”

“Then who did?”

“Please don’t hurt her. She just wants to know if Cindy is dead or alive.”

Something in Mitch’s face changed. “Kayleigh hired you?”

Gwen was shocked he’d figured it all out so easily, but she managed a nod before saying, “She means nobody any harm. She just wants to know for Jenna.”

Mitch sat in thought for a moment.

“Kayleigh.” The word had been spoken to nobody. It sounded more like a sigh than a name. Mitch looked at Gwen. He seemed to make a decision. She hoped it was in her favor. He let out a deep breath and said, “Tell Kayleigh that Cindy’s alive, but she needs to stop looking for her because she won’t find her. And if she keeps searching, she won’t like what happens. And neither, may I add, will you.”

Hope re-entered Gwen’s life. If she was going to deliver a message to Kayleigh, she’d have to live. Not only that, but Mitch knew Cindy was alive.

“You’re sure she’s not dead?”

“Positive. Listen, I wouldn’t tell you shit but Mr. Craven sorta owes Kayleigh. This is that payback.”

“Why can’t we know where she is?”

“Because I fucking said so!” Anger had burst back into his voice. “I will tell you this. She belongs to someone else now, and that someone would not take kindly to some nosy bitch sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. This guy paid Cindy’s debt to Mr. Craven, and he gave the guy Cindy in return. It was a business transaction. She’s alive and fine, but trying to find her will result in her not being alive and fine, along with whoever is snooping around.”

“Okay, I get it,” Gwen said. “I’ll tell Kayleigh what you’ve said.”

“Good. Now, my friend and I are going to leave. If you contact the police about my little visit here, the next time we meet won’t be so pleasant. Understand?” Mitch arched his brows to emphasize the point.

“Perfectly,” Gwen said.

Mitch stood and he and the chauffeur left through the front door.

Gwen broke down in sobs of relief as the fear dissipated.

After showering and putting on fresh clothes, she cleaned up the mess left behind by her bladder and the bag of groceries. Then she went to her bedroom, where she unlocked a cabinet and removed from the recorder marked “Front” the VHS tape that covered the past few days. It was set to take a single-frame picture every seven seconds. She replaced this tape with a new one and pushed the old tape into the VCR. She rewound the tape just a small bit and pressed play, watching for the images of Mitch and the chauffeur to show up. She didn’t care about the chauffeur. She mostly just wanted Mitch. She prayed she had a good shot of him.

She had decided to put the hidden security cameras in so that they would take a picture of anyone approaching her front or back door two years ago. It had cost more than she’d wanted to spend at the time, but it was worth it. Ornamental wrought iron flowers hid the lenses. Even she had to look very closely to even notice there was a camera lens there.

After a moment, the image of Mitch filled the screen. There he was, and she was in luck. The picture showed his face clearly. Now she had a picture of Mitch to show Kayleigh. Gwen wanted to see if her client knew him. If she did, she might be able to shed some light on what could be done about him, if anything.

Before leaving, she called Kayleigh’s home, but there was no answer. She debated leaving a message. If Mitch went there, he might listen to it, but she figured she had no choice.

“Kayleigh, it’s Gwen. When you hear this message, lock your doors and don’t answer the door unless it’s me. Don’t let anyone in at all. I’ll be right over to explain. I’ll wait for you in your driveway if you’re not home when I get there.”

Going to her front door, Gwen checked through the window beside it to see that nobody was watching her house before she opened the door to leave. She needed to get to Kayleigh’s as soon as she could.

*******

Kayleigh drove up her driveway after stopping for a drink on the way home from dropping Cheryl and Jenna at Marie’s and parked in her usual spot. Letting herself in, she went into the kitchen and noticed the phone’s message light blinking.

At first she didn’t want to listen to it until later. She longed to take a hot shower and masturbate to images of what was happening that night at Marie’s. Sometimes she was envious of her daughters. She thought of Jenna as her own now, despite the fact her real mother might be alive somewhere, but as time passed, she doubted that to be the case. Every day seemed to make it more likely that Cindy was dead, her body destined never to be found.

Now, however, she wanted to get that hot bath and imagine. She wanted to fantasize that she was seventeen again and at a party that included young girls. She’d been fortunate enough to have done just that when she was younger, but she was almost thirty now, and she knew the teen slumber parties no longer included her.

The blinking light on the recorder seemed to call to her, though. For some reason she felt maybe she should at least listen to the recording before having a night of solo sex. She’d ask her sister Emily to spend the night, except she was out of town until next week.

Giving in to the blinking light, she pressed the button and listened to the sole message that had been left four minutes before she got home.

It was from Gwen, and the urgency as she told her to lock her doors shot a chill up her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. She could hear the fear in Gwen’s voice.

Running to the front door, she locked it, hoping she wasn’t locking herself in with someone rather than locking a criminal out. Taking a butcher knife from the kitchen, she began going from room to room, opening closets and peering around corners. She didn’t know what had caused the urgent warning in the phone message, but the thought of Kinsey kept nagging at her, giving the warning more power.

She was startled by the doorbell, jumping in fright and letting out an involuntary yelp of fear and surprise.

Going to the door, she listened for a moment before peering through the peephole in the door. “Are you alone?” she asked through the door.

“Yes, let me in. It’s important.”

Unlocking the door, she let Gwen enter before bolting it shut again.

“What the hell is going on?” Kayleigh asked.

“Cindy’s alive.”

Kayleigh froze at this news. It was as if she was operated by electricity and the power had been shut off. She stood there, staring at Gwen. She couldn’t believe what she’d just heard.

“Are you sure?”

“That’s what Mitch said.”

“The guy you met who left you half-dressed on an on-ramp to a freeway?”

“Yes. And I have a video with his picture on my home security system. Do you have a VCR?”

“You’re kidding, right? With my job? It’s a necessity.”

Kayleigh led Gwen to the VCR and they plugged the tape in. Immediately, the picture of Mitch filled the screen.

Kayleigh froze again. Shit, this can’t be happening, she thought.

Gwen turned to Kayleigh and stopped short herself at the sight of Kayleigh’s shocked expression. “You know him?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’ve met him. Once at a party.”

“Do you know who he is? He says his name’s Mitch, but I doubt that’s his real name.”

“You’re right. His name is Mark,” Kayleigh said, her voice sounding far away as if someone else were speaking.

“What does he do for Mr. Craven? Is he, like, his right-hand man or something?” Gwen asked.

“No, he doesn’t do anything for Mr. Craven,” Kayleigh nearly whispered. “He is Mr. Craven.”

Gwen was stunned. She thought he was not exactly who he said he was, but she never suspected he was the man himself. She felt as if she were in a sequel to the movie The Usual Suspects, where the scared flunky turned out to be the professional killer everyone was looking for, even though Mitch was no scared flunky.

“Holy fucking… are you kidding me?! He’s Mr. Craven?!” Gwen asked. Her face registered how stunned she was by this news.

Kayleigh just nodded.

“Well, I guess that makes some sense anyway,” Gwen said, remembering that he had mentioned that Mr. Craven owed Kayleigh a favor.

“What do you mean?” Kayleigh asked.

“He said something about owing you a favor. What was that all about?”

“Oh,” Kayleigh said, considering her answer. “Years ago, I introduced him to the person now known as Lynnette Baxter. He’s made a ton of money off of her talents.”

“Isn’t she the one who can lick her own pussy and ass?”

“Yeah.”

Gwen chuckled for the first time since walking into her home that evening. “Do you know how often I’ve wanted to be able to do that?”

“Join the club, girl,” Kayleigh said before quickly changing the subject to the matter at hand. “So what did he say about Cindy, exactly?”

Gwen filled Kayleigh in on the details of their meeting.

“So she’s alive and being pimped by someone else?” Kayleigh said.

“That’s what it sounded like.”

“Do you think he meant it… what he said… about not trying to find her or we’d die?” Kayleigh asked.

“Oh, yeah. He meant it. Definitely.”

“So you think we should drop it? Do you think she’s safe with this other person?” Kayleigh said.

Gwen looked at Kayleigh, basically one of her employers. At least she was until this moment.

“Yeah. As hard as it is to say, yeah. I think you should drop it. I know I am. About whether or not she’s safe, I suppose she’s as safe as she’s going to get. At least she’s still alive, and it’s been three years.”

“So you’re saying if I want to continue, I’ll have to find another investigator?” Kayleigh frowned, her brow furrowing in displeasure.

“Sorry, but yes.” Gwen paused before continuing. “Kayleigh, he scared the shit out of me. He literally scared the piss out of me. I peed myself sitting right there in front of him. He just watched me do it and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened. I got the feeling he’s used to scaring people that badly.”

“Okay. I’ll take your advice and cool it for a while. He must be in contact with this other person who now ‘owns’ Cindy. I could see Mr. Craven asking how she’s doing, if the guy is happy with her, that kind of thing,” Kayleigh said.

“Listen, she’s not doing anything she wasn’t doing before,” Gwen said. “She’s just doing it for someone else now. Something tells me if she can negotiate her release from whatever is making her have to stay, she will show up here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she does show up one day.”

“I suppose so,” Kayleigh said.

It had grown dark outside. The two women eyed the night with suspicion and a dose of fear.

Then Kayleigh turned to Gwen. “I’m alone tonight. What about you?”

“Yeah,” Gwen admitted, hoping this was going where she thought it might. “Nobody in my plans,” she said before adding, “yet.”

“You wanna spend the night?” Kayleigh asked. “Cheryl and Jenna are at Marie’s slumber party.”

“Yeah, I took Carmen by Marie’s before going home to my nightmare. I’d like to stay if you don’t mind. I’m afraid if I go home, I won’t get a wink of sleep worrying about him coming back. At least here, if I stay the night, there will be a better reason not to sleep.”

“Right. We can have our own slumber party,” Kayleigh said. “But I am jealous of my girls. They’re with four other girls ranging in age from twenty to ten.”

“I wonder what they’re doing right now?” Gwen said, gently pulling Kayleigh into her arms.

“Right now?” Kayleigh said, smiling at Gwen and noticing the sexy pout her lips naturally had. “Probably coming.”

“Maybe we should catch up,” Gwen said, and kissed Kayleigh, plunging her tongue into the porn star’s mouth.

Kayleigh moaned with need, and the two worked their way to Kayleigh’s bedroom, scattering clothes along the way. When they finally arrived at the side of the bed, they were naked.

And very horny.

“Something just occurred to me,” Gwen said.

“What?”

“Facing death can put you in serious need of orgasms.”

“That’s true. So… let me give you a few,” Kayleigh said, pulling Gwen on top of her as they tumbled onto the large bed.

The two women made love to each other until they finally fell asleep, exhausted.

*******

The slumber party had been an enormous success, if you counted success by the number of orgasms we had. It occurred to me that Jenna may have actually achieved the dozen climaxes she had hoped for.

When we pulled into the driveway, Sara said, “Wow! I’ve driven by here before lots of times and wondered who owned it.”

Moments later, Jenna and I had said our good-byes and entered the house. I had to use my house key to get in, which was unusual because Mom’s car was there, so I knew she was home.

“Mom?” I called as we entered the foyer.

“In the kitchen,” came the reply and Jenna and I went there.

“Why was the door locked?” I asked. “You usually have it unlocked when you’re home.”

Mom looked at me and I knew something serious had happened. First, she went to the front door and locked it again. Then she sat Jenna and me down and told us about what had happened to Gwen the evening before. Jenna was beyond thrilled to find out her mother was alive, but we were sad that she was basically being held against her will. However, the idea that someone could decide to come after us or hurt Mom scared us.

“Can’t we get the cops involved?” I asked.

“No, baby. If we do, some really bad things could happen not only to Cindy but us as well.”

Mom had mentioned the picture on the video, which she still had, so I asked if we could see it.

“Yes. I asked Gwen if I could keep it until this afternoon so I could show you two. That way you’ll know never to answer the door if he comes here,” Mom said, and we went to the den to look at the guy’s picture.

When Mom brought it up, she said, “That’s Mr. Craven. Actually, I still work for him because he owns the production company–” Her sentence ended there because that was when Jenna screamed.

“That’s him!” she shouted, pointing an accusing finger at the TV screen.

“Who?” Mom asked, but I already suspected who she meant.

“The man!” Jenna yelled, and ran from the room, crying and shouting, “The man who raped me!” as she left.

Continue on to Chapter 40

The Slumber Party, Part II, or Riding the Pussy-go-round

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

“Do you want me to touch you there?” Deanna was asking her cousin Tori in the video.

“Yeah, it feels good!” Tori said.

Already this was becoming the greatest slumber party in the history of slumber parties! Like many of these get-togethers, it was mostly an excuse for engaging in sexual play, depending on how much sexual knowledge the slumber party guests had. Many girls our age either didn’t know much or wouldn’t admit to all they knew. The girls at this party had no such problem. Even the ten-year-olds, Jenna and Carmen, were more like adults when it came to sex.

What we were watching on the large TV screen was the sexual education of another little girl, five year-old Tori. My eyes were glued to the little girl who had the puffy pussy of a girl that age, as well as a little bubble butt. I tried to imagine what it would be like to touch her the way Deanna was on the video, which Deanna’s sister Elizabeth had been more than happy to video.

As we watched, the picture began to jiggle.

“Sorry, Elizabeth couldn’t keep her hands off herself,” Deanna explained.

“I don’t blame her,” said Linda, who was staring at the events on the screen. Carmen was pinching Linda’s nipples playfully and tweaking a nipple stud piercing the older girl had while Linda rubbed her own clit lightly.

“Are you gonna kiss and lick it again?” The question was Tori’s.

“If you want me to,” said the onscreen Deanna.

At this point Elizabeth walked up to Deanna and Tori and knelt, pointing the camera down to where Deanna’s head was concealing Tori’s little pussy.

“You wanna touch me where I showed you?” Elizabeth asked from behind the camera.

“Yeah,” came the enthusiastic reply. We watched as Tori’s hand came up to Elizabeth’s pussy and began massaging her clit. Then a shot of Tori’s face showed how much she was enjoying touching the seventeen-year-old.

After about five minutes of this, Tori said, “It’s starting to tingle a lot again.”

“Just let it happen, sweetpea,” we heard Elizabeth say. “Just like the last time.”

“K,” Tori said. So… she had come before.

Soon Tori’s cute, little face scrunched up and she began to breathe in short gasps, as if she were trying to finish running a marathon. Her squeals of delight echoed throughout the den where we sat watching this erotic display. Her little body spasmed and shook as the orgasm ran through her.

We could hear Elizabeth breathing hard too, but she wasn’t coming yet.

“Come lick me,” Deanna said to Tori, “and I’ll lick Elizabeth this time.”

Soon, the video showed Tori licking her cousin Deanna while Deanna licked Elizabeth.

“I have to lie down,” Elizabeth said. I was amazed she’d managed to remain upright all this time.

The camera angle had some funny movements, and we watched as both Elizabeth and then Deanna came. The camera work was shaky by this time, but the eroticism of what was happening affected all of us.

Then the video made that funny, twisting transition where you can’t see anything for a moment until what had been on the tape that you are taping over comes into view. It was of Deanna when she was younger, like maybe seven. Once again, Elizabeth was operating the video camera, but Deanna was asleep. We knew it was Elizabeth because she was providing some narration.

“I need to be quiet, but I don’t think she’ll wake up. She hasn’t before,” Elizabeth’s voice said, though it sounded younger.

“I’ve never seen this before,” Deanna said from her place on the sofa where she sat watching this strange video.

We watched, wondering what might happen. The young Deanna lay in her bed with the covers thrown off, as if she had gotten hot in the night and disposed of the blankets. She wore panties and a t-shirt, but nothing else. I began to wonder if what I thought might happen would.

And then it did.

Elizabeth’s hand sneaked into the picture frame and reached for her sister’s panties. I knew Deanna used to sleep like the dead, and I doubted she would wake up during this.

The hand sneaked into Deanna’s panties and began to rub the young girl’s slit. Deanna, still asleep, gave a soft moan after a minute of this and adjusted her body. Then she was still again.

The hand managed to get underneath the elastic waistband and gently tug the panties down to just below Deanna’s crotch.

“Oh my God,” Deanna said. “She’s molesting me in my sleep.” She gave a nervous giggle.

“You never knew about this?” Sara asked.

“No,” Deanna said. “I’ve never seen it, and I never knew she did it, much less taped it.”

It seemed that a part of Deanna was annoyed at this intrusion by her sister. It was obviously before they began their incestuous relationship, or at least it was before Deanna knowingly took part in it. Their mutual relationship hadn’t happened until Deanna was nine. She was clearly younger in this video.

On the other hand, I could see watching this was turning Deanna on quite a bit. The knowledge that her sister had lusted after her for at least two years prior to the moment they had consensual sex was indeed very exciting. Elizabeth would have been about eleven in this video.

We watched as Elizabeth played with her seven-year-old sister’s snatch.

I glanced around. All eyes were on the TV screen. The idea we were watching a real molestation seemed to excite everyone even more than we had been excited by the part with Tori.

As I watched the video, sneaking glances at the girls watching it, I could see that everyone was being turned on by this, even Deanna, who was the one her sister was taking liberties with.

This looked more like a pubescent seduction, or at least a ‘pre’ seduction, at any rate.

I wanted to find out what Deanna thought. “Do you wish you’d woken up and caught her?” I asked.

Deanna glanced at me before returning her eyes to what was happening on the screen. “Yeah.”

“Are you pissed?” Marie asked.

“I was a little at first, but then I thought about how she’s only eleven here.”

“What are you now, then, if not pissed?” I asked.

She smiled at me. “Horny.”

That settled it. Had she been bothered by this in any way, I would have insisted we turn it off. Her response basically said it was okay to watch this. She certainly wanted to. I guess if she didn’t mind, nobody else should either.

Elizabeth’s hand disappeared behind the camera again, but she was obviously reaching for her face. I suspected what she was doing.

Sure enough, when her hand reappeared, her fingers glistened with her saliva. Being asleep, and only seven, Deanna didn’t produce much in the way of pussy juices, so it would be natural to moisten her pussy with spit.

As we watched Elizabeth continue to fondle her little sister’s pussy, the young, sleeping Deanna began to respond. Her hips began to move slightly and her breathing pace increased quite a bit.

“Here it comes,” we heard Elizabeth say from behind the camera.

Deanna’s body began to hunch a little bit and spasms rocked her, though they were small ones. I realized my mouth had dropped open as we witnessed little Deanna coming on camera.

When she had finished her little climax, her breathing slowly returned to normal. We watched as Elizabeth’s hand moved behind the camera again.

Then the camera adjusted its view, making me dizzy with the quick movement. We were now looking at eleven-year-old Elizabeth’s face. She smiled and put the finger that had been playing with Deanna’s pussy into her mouth, saying, “Mmmm. Delicious!” into the camera. “Maybe one day I’ll get my nerve up to lick her directly.”

The video made that adjustment from one filming to another, and we were watching something that had obviously been taped off the TV, a cartoon of some kind that I didn’t recognize, though I probably would have if the video had continued playing. However, since the sex had ended, so had the movie, with Sara switching off their VHS player.

“Holy shit! You had no idea, did you?” Sara asked.

“No,” Deanna said.

“You two obviously get it on now,” Linda said.

I looked at Marie’s older sisters. Each had one hand on the pussy of the ten-year-old nearest them and one on their own mound. Then I saw that Marie and Deanna were masturbating themselves gently as well. The funny part was that I didn’t notice I had been touching myself too.

I giggled before asking Deanna, “What are you thinking?”

“That I wish I’d woken up and she’d taught me how to lick her pussy back then instead of us getting it on for the first time two years later. We wasted so much time,” Deanna said. “It was pretty obvious I liked what she did. Imagine if we’d gotten into a sixty-nine.”

I looked at Deanna and I could tell she was disappointed she hadn’t awakened during her sister’s nighttime fun.

“Well, there are plenty of girls here who would love to lick you,” Linda said.

I liked Linda. She was older and had pink and blue hair, a nose ring, and a number of other piercings, including a stud through her right nipple, which Carmen had enjoyed playing with earlier. I could not imagine doing that to my boob, but I admired the one she had. She also had four piercings in her left ear and three in her right.

Yet, despite looking so punk, she seemed to be fairly average. She would surprise a lot of the adults I knew who thought punk kids were rebellious and difficult. Linda was as nice as it was possible for a girl to be. She just liked that look. I began to wonder if the fact her mom had brought her up to be accepting of others made that difference.

Of the three sisters, she was also the plumpest, though I would never have described her as fat in any way. It’s just that whereas Sara and Marie were thin and athletic, Linda had a bit more, well, padding, I guess would be the word. Like I said, average.

Not only that, but she had the most genuine smile I’d ever seen. It beamed from her face, and when she smiled at me, I automatically smiled back.

Now, she was smiling at me again, and was crooking her index finger to beckon me over to her.

I think I knew what she had in mind. I had noticed her whisper to Carmen before her ‘come here’ gesture, so I suspected I was in for a great threesome.

Meanwhile Sara was preparing to go down on my sister, who was all smiles. I could tell Jenna had gotten an instant crush on Sara.

Marie and Deanna were already making out, and Marie had one hand on Deanna’s mound, rubbing her delicious honey all through the folds inside her pussy.

For a moment I was jealous before realizing both of these girls loved me completely. We were now a threesome in all aspects, and jealousy had no place in our lives. Who cared if they got together, even if I wasn’t around? I would be a hypocrite if I let something like that bother me. After all, I still had sex with them when the other wasn’t around.

Joining Linda and Carmen on the sofa, I set myself in a position that allowed me to make out with Linda while playing with Carmen’s pussy and butthole. I placed one knee between Linda’s legs, the other outside her thigh, and squatted so that my pussy was against her right thigh. I moved my hips in a fucking motion to smear my juices on her leg. Linda grinned as I did that, then reached down to where my pussy pressed against her and gathered some fluid on her finger. Bringing her hand up to my face, she let me lick some of my juices from the offered finger. After I had a few licks, she stuck her finger in her mouth and said, “Mmmm.”

Then we started making out. I reached for Carmen’s pussy and let my fingers flutter, rubbing her clit and labia. She was soaking wet down there, and I loved it. I loved that she enjoyed watching Deanna with Tori on the TV, not to mention Elizabeth’s youthful foray into Deanna’s room one night to touch her pussy while Deanna slept.

Linda cupped my boobs, massaging and pinching them. Our mouths slid over each other while our tongues wrapped each other in a spit bath.

I continued to rub my pussy against Linda’s thigh as our kiss broke. I glanced at Carmen, whose eyes were half-lidded with lust.

Suddenly, I wanted to get my mouth on Carmen’s pussy. I’d licked her before, when she and Jenna had tricked me, but I wanted to do it again.

“Let’s both take turns licking Carmen,” I said to Linda.

She was all for it. Smiling, she said, “Sure thing.”

We moved to the floor, which was plushly carpeted, and laid Carmen back with a sofa pillow under her head. She spread her legs wide, gripping her knees to pull them toward her almost non-existent boobs, and I could see the sticky honey that coated everything inside her hairless pussy. My mouth literally watered. I had to stop and swallow for fear I would drool onto the carpet.

“Me first,” I said.

“Your idea, so dive in,” said Linda, grinning.

I didn’t hesitate. Who would? I was being offered a succulent little pussy, bare of any hair without the need for waxing or shaving, and its owner eager for me to bring her to a smashing orgasm.

I followed Linda’s advice and dived in.

I had licked her before, and was immediately taken back to that time. She tasted so fresh and delicious! I did the chewing thing I had learned from Marie, and it seemed to be sending Carmen into orbit. She began squealing and trembling. I could feel her legs shudder she was enjoying my lips, tongue, and teeth so much.

Next, Linda took a turn, doing pretty well the same thing I had. I figured the Perlacci girls were all expert at using their teeth just enough to cause extreme pleasure.

Then, I took over again, spending only a minute licking and chewing Carmen’s pussy, hoping I would be the one to take her over the top.

Linda tapped my shoulder and I moved back to allow her access to Carmen’s dripping pussy. I waited for about a minute and tapped her to take my turn again.

Soon, Carmen was grunting and hunching herself up from lying down, as if she were trying to do crunches for her abs. She was coming like mad. Finally, the little girl tapped my head, saying, “No more… No more… Sensitive.”

I leaned back and Linda was immediately kissing me, tasting the sweet nectar that was covering my mouth and chin. We settled back and moved into a frenzied sixty-nine. We both were so horny we felt the need to come as quickly as we could. At least I know I felt that way. And based on Linda’s quick movements to get us into position, I figured she felt the same.

Carmen lay there and watched us eating each other. The sounds of other girls’ orgasms filled the room and helped push me quickly over the edge. I could hear Deanna’s high-pitched squeaks, along with Marie’s grunts of pleasure. I knew they were having a wonderful time with each other, whatever they were doing. I could hear Sara talking to Jenna and telling her how lovely she was, and how soft her pussy was. Jenna wasn’t hearing much of it, I don’t think. She was too busy coming.

Later, we lay there catching our breath and cooling down. Then we decided to play Truth or Dare. We decided to let the youngest girl go first, which meant Jenna would start the game since she was a few months younger than Carmen.

Jenna looked at me first and waved her hand at me as if shooing a fly. “I know everything about you, already,” she said. The other girls laughed.

“I don’t,” Sara said.

“Then you can ask her something if she chooses truth,” Jenna answered, which brought more laughter and a lighthearted “she shot you down” from Linda.

Jenna decided to choose her friend first, probably to avoid being embarrassed by asking or daring the wrong thing.

“Carmen, truth or dare?” she began.

“Truth?” she said, not sure which she should pick since either could be embarrassing.

Jenna thought for a second. “Okay, how old were you the first time you touched your pussy and liked how it felt?”

Carmen thought for a few seconds before Marie said, “Come on, girl. You gotta tell. It’s the rule.” Marie was smiling at Carmen, or rather leering at her. I could tell she wanted to have some sexual fun with her before the night was through.

“I know. I’m trying to remember. I was kinda young.”

“That’s the point,” Sara said. “How young?” She, too, was obviously excited by the idea of having fun with Carmen.

“I think I was four or five,” Carmen answered.

“How did it happen?” Jenna asked.

“I don’t have to tell that,” Carmen said. “I already answered your question. Now, it’s my turn.” She looked around at the naked girls sitting in a circle and landed on Marie, probably as payback for trying to hurry her up.

“Marie,” she said. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” said Marie, always the boldest one in the group. It was one of the many reasons I loved her.

“Okay,” Carmen said. “You have to run naked up to the street and back while we watch.”

“Like she’s never done that before,” Sara laughed.

“Shush,” said Marie, grinning. I had never heard about such exploits and was curious.

We all got up and went to the formal living room, which faced the street. I was surprised when Marie stepped out into the night and sauntered to the street and back, seeming not to worry if anyone saw her walking outside in the nude. It took her well over a minute, closer to two actually, to complete her trek.

We walked back to the den, laughing and joking.

“Okay, my turn,” Marie said. “Cheryl, truth or dare?”

I had considered what I would say, of course, when called upon. I figured most dares wouldn’t be much of a challenge, much like asking Marie to walk to the street and back naked. I would be more nervous, given it wasn’t my neighborhood, exactly, but I would have no problem completing the task. Because most dares in these circumstances involved nudity or sex, there really weren’t many actual ‘dares’ for us to fear. I mean, if we’d not just had an orgy, maybe telling someone to lick another girl would be the biggest dare possible.

Therefore, I decided to see if someone could challenge me with a question that might be uncomfortable to answer. I know most girls might shy away from the more difficult choice, but I wanted the game to be exciting.

“Truth,” I said.

“What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done, sexually, that nobody else knows?”

I knew my answer right away, but there was a glitch. “Deanna already knows it,” I said.

“Something even Deanna doesn’t know,” Marie said.

“She knows everything,” I said.

“There’s not one thing she doesn’t know about because you’ve been too embarrassed to tell her?” Linda asked.

“Nope,” I said. I was confident I had told her everything about my sexual life.

“Okay, then, we’ll let you tell the most embarrassing thing that only Deanna knows,” said Marie.

“I’ve let a dog lick me to orgasm,” I said.

Jaws dropped all around the circle. Eyes went wide.

Then I saw Deanna. Her jaw had dropped, too, and her eyes showed her shock at my statement.

“You didn’t know about that?!” I asked her.

“No!” she said. “Really? You let a dog lick your pussy until you came?”

Now I really was embarrassed. Had I gone too far?

Then Sara broke the tension. “That is so… fucking… hot!”

I continued to look at the circle of girls. “Really?” I asked, echoing Deanna’s question to me seconds before.

Sara, Linda, Marie, and Deanna all began to talk at once, excited by my confession. Questions like, Did you like it? What did it feel like? Did you let the dog fuck you? bombarded me.

I laughed. “One at a time!” I said through my giggles. The younger girls, Jenna and Carmen still sat there, wide-eyed. I felt certain they didn’t know what to think about what I’d done.

“I actually considered doing that once at a friend’s house,” Sara said. “She had a mixed breed dog that loved to stick his nose in my crotch. One night I spent the night and went to pee and the dog came up to me in greeting. His nose went straight for my pussy. I was only like fourteen at the time, and I considered letting him lick me to find out what it was like, but I chickened out.”

“You mean Sheila’s dog Max?” Linda asked.

“Yeah.”

“He used to sniff my crotch all the time, too!”

“What was it like?” Sara asked me. “Did you do anything else with the dog?”

So I proceeded to tell them about babysitting Emily and how I’d discovered her letting her dog Annie lick her. By the time I’d finished, each of the girls had her hand in her pussy, rubbing it.

“Maybe we can talk Mom into getting a dog,” Jenna said.

“I doubt it,” I told her. “She doesn’t like dogs much, and besides, she’d know why we wanted one.”

By this time, the game of Truth or Dare had been forgotten. I remembered a game I had played with other girls and women for my tenth birthday and suggested we play it. I explained how it worked, and everyone loved the idea since it would give everyone a chance to lick each of the girls at the slumber party.

I made everyone lie on their backs on the carpeted floor next to each other, the youngest, Jenna, in the first position, followed by Carmen. Marie, Deanna, Linda, and Sara followed the young girls as they formed a row of naked girls. Because it was my game, I was to start.

I lay between my sister’s legs and began to lick her pussy, spending maybe a minute on her before moving on to Carmen. After I finished licking Carmen for a minute, I moved to Marie and Jenna began licking Carmen. As each of us finished licking, we moved to the next girl in line. By the time I was licking Sara, Jenna was licking Linda, Carmen was making Deanna feel good, and Marie was waiting her turn to lick Deanna. When I finished licking Sara, I lay down beside her to wait my turn to get licked. When Jenna finished licking Sara for a minute, she moved to me.

It was the world’s most wonderful party game!

The movement of the line of girls began to snake around the room to avoid furniture and walls. Soon, I heard Linda begin to come. The rule was that even if it was time to move to the next person, once someone started coming, nobody moved on until that person had finished her orgasm. This allowed girls to get even closer to their climax.

Once Linda finished coming, everyone moved to the next girl in line. Another rule was that nobody could play with her own pussy. If you are not being licked, you can play with your boobs, but that was all. With an even number of girls there were times when everyone was either licking or being licked. That never happened when there was an odd number of girls, like this time.

We continued the game for at least a half hour. By that time everyone had come at least once. Linda and Sara had come twice, but Marie came three times. Needless to say, everyone LOVED this game!

“I wish I’d known about this game years ago,” Sara said when we had all recovered from playing.

“What do you call the game?” Marie asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just ‘the game.’

“I have an idea for a name,” said Carmen.

“What?” I asked, curious to see what name she might have.

“Well, it’s sort of like a merry-go-round, so why not call it pussy-go-round?”

Everyone responded very positively to that name. It fit the idea, and it made the sexual aspect to the game obvious.

We were all getting tired by then, so we went upstairs to Sara’s room. She and Linda shared a room and each slept in their own king-sized bed. They had pushed the two kings together to form this huge bed. We tumbled onto the comfortable beds and finally drifted off. I remember looking at Sara’s bedside clock when I was about to nod off and saw it was 1:43 A.M.

It seemed like only a minute later that I was being awakened, but not in the usual manner. I awoke to the feeling of a mouth on my pussy.

Someone was licking my slit, coaxing my clit out to play and enjoy the fun. I really didn’t care who it was, but I realized that whoever was licking me may have gotten the idea from the video we’d watched earlier that evening.

I was being molested in my sleep, and because I was aware someone I knew was doing the molesting, I was fine with the idea. In fact I loved it!

I lay with my eyes closed, playing a game with myself to see if I could identify who it was without looking.

I could feel soft, long hair lying against my hips, so it wasn’t Linda. I listened to the girl’s breathing as she ate me. For some reason, she sounded older, so I eliminated Jenna and Carmen. She seemed to feel larger than Marie or Deanna, so I guessed it was Sara.

Looking down, I found I was correct. I could see her in the dim sunlight that managed to sneak itself into the room around the heavy curtains. Glancing at the clock, I saw it was only just after six o’clock.

Sara was lying between my legs, her mouth against my slit. I moved slightly to give her easier access. When she looked at me, I smiled at her. She winked and returned to what she was doing.

I felt movement to my left and noticed that Linda was licking Jenna, who was still asleep, but probably not for long. When Linda saw me, she pulled back and began to flick Jenna’s clit with the tip of her tongue for me to see, the corners of her mouth turned upward in a smile as she did it. Then she moved back and covered my sister’s hairless mound with her mouth. I noticed Jenna stirring a bit as she did this.

My own clit was starting to tingle in such a way that I knew I was getting close. Jenna awoke at that moment and looked down to find Linda perched between her legs providing the exquisite pleasure for the ten-year-old.

She immediately began to come.

Meanwhile, my thirteen-year-old clit was climbing the mountain fast. I began to buck and hump Sara’s mouth, and my movements woke Deanna and Marie up. Carmen remained asleep for now.

I think my screams of delight may have awakened her, however.

Soon, everyone was lying in a pile of young girl flesh, seeking the nearest pussy, boob, or butt. I felt someone sucking my toes. It tickled, but in a good way. Fingers invaded my pussy, which was happy to surrender. Mouths attacked my boobs, bringing my already stiff nipples to firmer attention. Someone’s finger entered my butthole, while a mouth clamped onto my slit, the tongue massaging my clit.

Meanwhile, I was doing the same to whichever girl I came into contact with. Each pussy was bald, but some were larger, so I figured the larger ones belonged to Sara or Linda. I recognized Jenna’s pussy and took a minute to lick my little sister. My fingers explored whatever they touched.

It was an orgy to beat all orgies, at least to me. I felt I was in heaven.

Finally, I wanted to be with the two girls I was madly in love with, Deanna and Marie. We ended up in a daisy chain. The other girls watched until they rejoined one another.

By nine o’clock, we were all totally exhausted and realized the party had to come to an end.

Later, as we waited for Gwen to come pick up Carmen, I asked her again about her relationship with Gwen.

“Yeah, she had me spend the night last week,” Carmen said. “When I got to her place, she asked me if I knew why she wanted me to come stay the night with her. Clare had stayed with her a few nights before, so I knew what was going to happen. Of course, Clare had told me everything. So I told Aunt Gwen I wanted her to do to me everything she’d done with Clare.”

“How was it?” I asked, remembering the time Gwen joined in for a family ‘get-together.’

“Great! I asked my mom if I could stay the night with her at least once a week, and she said I could.”

I was happy for my sister’s young friend. She had to put up with Clare and her bossiness, so she deserved some special time with Gwen.

Gwen picked up Carmen, and Jenna and I loaded into Sara’s car to be taken home. I felt so tired and sexually satisfied that I thought I could go without sex for a week after all that. As it turned out, that idea didn’t last because Jenna sneaked into my bedroom three nights later and molested me in the middle of the night because, as she said, “I wanted to find out what it was like to do that to someone.” It turned out she liked it, and continued sneaking into my bed for years.

And of course, I would often return the favor. Because we were already lovers, it was certainly not any kind of molestation, just fun.

The slumber party had changed our lives in a way.

But when I got home from the fun, troubling news awaited.

Continue on to Chapter 39

The Slumber Party, Part I

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

When Gwen finally woke up, her head was pounding and she was sitting in her car on the side of the road near an on-ramp for a freeway. Which freeway, she wasn’t sure, but she was definitely still in the L.A. area, or at least it seemed she was. She could hear the nearly constant whoosh of passing cars on the highway above her. The events that led to her being here were still foggy, and she struggled to put her memory back together.

Slowly, the puzzle pieces re-aligned and she remembered being attacked by Mitch. She recalled the grip of his fingers on her throat and how she had blacked out with her brain starving for oxygen-rich blood.

Now it was dark. She knew the strangling wouldn’t have kept her out for more than a few minutes, so she suspected she’d been injected with something to keep her out. She wondered darkly what the large man may have done to her while she was unconscious.

With that thought she realized her bra was missing.

And her panties.

Had she been raped?

She reached down and put her fingers inside herself. She was barely moist. Sperm would last for a while, with some oozing out of her vagina if she were in a sitting position. She felt no tell-tale evidence that sperm had invaded her most intimate area. There were no sticky areas on the inside of her clothing to indicate sperm had leaked out, and she didn’t feel as if she’d been fucked recently. Still, she decided she would get an abortion if she turned up pregnant. No way did she want that creep’s baby. She hadn’t been with a man in over six months, so if she refrained from hetero sex for another month, that would identify the father easily.

Turning on the dome light, she saw her purse on the seat beside her. Her wallet had been ransacked, meaning the asshole knew she wasn’t from Phoenix, not to mention the most important part — that she was a private investigator. Her investigator’s license was in plain view on the seat near her wallet. He’d wanted her to know that he knew.

Not only that, but the guy had her address as well since it was printed on her investigator’s license. Hell, he may have stopped off to make duplicates of her keys. She could go home and find him there, waiting.

She doubted that, however. If he’d wanted to kill her, he’d had ample opportunity. Still, his having that information and possibly her keys bothered her. A lot.

Picking up her purse, she found her bra and panties underneath where the purse had lain on the seat. She realized that if her attacker had been a woman, she would have taken the purse. It was a Gucci GG Marmont leather shoulder bag, worth nearly $3000, which had been a gift, a ‘bonus’ of sorts, from a very satisfied client, one of Hollywood’s most famous directors. Mitch either didn’t know handbags, or he didn’t care.

She checked the gusset of her panties. No stickiness there either. She then realized her nudity beneath her clothes meant he had made an even more thorough search for a wire. He’d probably done that after discovering her true profession.

She recognized he had probably thought about killing her and dumping her body somewhere once he’d found this out, and now she wondered why he hadn’t done just that. Not that she minded, but this guy was obviously ruthless and probably had quite a body count in his wake.

Her keys were in the ignition, and taking a deep breath, she started her car, deciding to go home for now. She’d worry about the other possibilities tomorrow. Right now, she needed something for her headache and a clean bed.

*******

Several days had passed, and we heard from Gwen. Apparently, she had met someone rather violent who worked for Mr. Craven. It occurred to me that my mom worked for this Mr. Craven as well, but she had actually only met him once at a party. He owned the production company and distribution rights for her movies. He also owned the call girls who worked in that part of his sex-trade business.

Mom had asked Gwen if we should back off for a while, but she had said no. They knew she was an investigator now, and as long as they didn’t know the case she was working, they would be okay. Gwen had expressed her feelings that this Mitch guy, if that was even his real name, had probably been the guy who murdered Kinsey.

The papers had blamed Kinsey’s death on a “customer,” but Gwen and Mom didn’t believe that. “These ‘customers’ are well-vetted,” Mom had said. “No way was it a john.” She had hated the way the papers blamed Kinsey’s death on her job, as if she were an electrician who had not taken proper precautions and had accidentally electrocuted himself.

Life went on, though, and we all hoped to find out what had happened to Cindy. I thought Cindy was probably dead for the same reasons Jenna did: If she were alive, she would have contacted Jenna at least to let her know she wasn’t dead.

School was ending soon for the summer, and I was looking forward to it the same way every other thirteen-year-old girl in the nation was. That meant more time for more fun. And fun to me and my family and friends often meant sex. Just the thought of it made my pussy wet.

Marie had asked me if I could come for a slumber party the last Friday before the last few days of school, which would end the following Wednesday. I asked if Deanna was invited, too, and she said yes. In fact, she also asked Jenna and Carmen to come as well.

This was going to be one great slumber party! I had met Marie’s sisters, but only briefly when they had dropped Marie off at school. I’d met her mom the same way. Marie and I had only been “dating” for a few weeks, and I’d never been to her house. Her mom would be gone that Friday, but the sisters would be there. Marie implied they were both very anxious to get to know me, Deanna, Jenna, and Carmen much better. Well, she didn’t imply it really. She basically said her sisters couldn’t wait to taste our pussies and have us taste theirs.

“Where will your mom be?” I asked. Her work took her out of town frequently.

“At her mother’s house in Santa Monica,” Marie said. Santa Monica is one of the thousand suburb communities that surrounded Los Angeles. “She lives near the beach there.”

The fact her mom would be staying at her mother’s made me wonder about her. Was she having sex with her own mom, Marie’s grandmother? That would be unreal, especially since Marie and I had already talked about how similar our lives were and that would just be another similarity, though I’d never mentioned my mom’s relationship with her mom to Marie or anyone else because Mom had asked me not to. It was already as if we were actually the same person but in some parallel universe.

When Friday arrived, I was anxious for Mom to get home from a day of filming to take us to Marie’s. As I packed my overnight bag with the few items I would need, Jenna kept coming into my room and asking if she should bring this or bring that. I finally looked at her and said, “Just bring your toothbrush and something to come home in tomorrow. Other than that, I suspect we’ll be naked most of the time.”

She was also very excited. Carmen would be there, and they hadn’t spent the night together since Clare’s plans for world domination — or at least my world — had been ruined.

Jenna had told me about some of the conversations she and Carmen had since the Clare Affair, as my mom jokingly called it. Apparently, Clare was into bossing Carmen around when it came to sex. Mom said Clare had the makings of a dominatrix. Jenna said Clare would tell Carmen to do things like suck her toes and even made Carmen lie in the tub while Clare peed on her. I thought that was gross, but apparently Carmen didn’t mind. Maybe it was just the naughtiness of it, but it seemed to excite Jenna. Oh well, to each her own, I suppose.

When Mom got home, I met her at the door. “Can you take us now?” I asked, nearly hopping up and down I was so excited.

“Good Lord, Cheryl. Let me at least change my clothes and go pee,” Mom said. She walked toward her room and Jenna and I followed.

“Do you think we’ll be naked the whole time?” Jenna asked, apparently wanting affirmation of my guess.

Mom began undressing and said, “Who knows, baby? Either way, I’m envious of you two.” Once she got down to her  panties and bra, Mom went into the bathroom and sat on the toilet to pee, leaving the door open so we could still talk.

“Did you know Carmen lets Clare pee on her? Cheryl thinks that’s gross,” Jenna giggled to my mom as she sat peeing.

Mom looked at me and smiled while wiping herself and said, “Maybe Cheryl only thinks it’s gross because it’s Clare doing the peeing.”

I tried to look annoyed and said, “Well, that makes it worse, but I think peeing on someone is still gross.”

“Lots of people like it,” Mom said.

“Have you ever been peed on?” Jenna asked, making me realize just how open we were with my mom on sexual topics. I loved that aspect of my life. So many girls my age would never say a word about sex to either of their parents. I knew some girls who would probably rather swallow cyanide than ask their parents a question about sex. And admitting what they liked was even more of an impossibility to them. Of course, I didn’t advertise that I could ask or tell my mom anything about my sex life, but it was true. There were no taboo subjects when it came to that. I sometimes felt like the luckiest and most liberated girl in the world.

My mom smiled as if remembering a time when she said, “Plenty of times. I’ve made two movies that had that as a central part of the sexual encounters. So I’ve been peed on and peed on someone else.”

“I’m not sure if I’d like it,” said Jenna. “Carmen says your pee doesn’t have any germs or anything, that it’s–” she paused, searching for the word.

“Sterile,” Mom said, finding it for her.

“Yeah, sterile,” Jenna said. “Is that true?”

“As a matter of fact, it is, though it does contain things the body is trying to get rid of, so drinking it once in a while isn’t bad, but doing it too often and in large quantities can cause problems.”

“Drinking it? Eww!” I said, wrinkling my nose. “I know people do that, but it’s completely gross!”

Mom looked at me with this ‘where have you been?’ stare and said, “Cheryl, do you think when you lick someone’s pussy that there isn’t pee there?”

I had thought about that a long time ago. “I know there is, but only a drop or two sorta smeared around with the other juices, which are totally delicious. I’m talking about like peeing in a glass and drinking it or having someone pee in your mouth.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, and it doesn’t taste bad, as you well know,” Mom said. “I’m not suggesting you try it if you don’t want to. I just don’t want you looking down at others for what they like.” She looked over at Jenna but continued speaking to me. “Your sister may want to try it, and I don’t want you making fun of her or getting all ‘grossed out’ over it.”

“If she wants to do it, that’s fine with me, as long as it’s not Clare she’s doing it with. That would really piss me off!” I said.

Jenna laughed at my choice of words. “Ha! Ha! You’d be ‘pissed off’ if I let Clare ‘piss on’ me!!”

While my mom dressed, Jenna came over to me and startled to wrestle with me, pushing me over onto Mom’s bed. She was trying to tickle me. We both started giggling and were wrestling around when Jenna reached down and grabbed the waist of my shorts and started pulling them down, exposing my pussy since I wasn’t wearing panties.

Before I knew it, she had dived in, starting to feast on my slit. She licked me from my butthole to my clit and back again before starting to chew softly on my inner labia. This was driving me wild.

Mom smiled down at us for a few moments, but then made us stop. “You don’t want to wear yourselves out before the party,” she said.

I was slightly annoyed she’d stopped us because it was starting to feel very good, but I was also happy because I wanted to get to Marie’s and start having fun with more than just my little sister.

I pulled my shorts back up and we headed for the car. Jenna wanted to make out with me on the way, but Mom made us stop.

“Jenna, what’s gotten into you?” Mom asked. I was wondering the same thing.

“I don’t know. I’ve been just super horny looking forward to this. It’s gonna be fun! I want to have at least a dozen orgasms between now and tomorrow when you pick us up! Maybe even more, like two dozen!”

We arrived at Marie’s without having to prevent Jenna from masturbating herself to the first of her orgasms for that afternoon and evening. Mom got out and walked us to the door and rang the doorbell.

Marie’s oldest sister Sara, who was twenty, answered the door. Seeing Mom, she said, “Oh, my…” She knew who my mom was but had never seen her before in the flesh. It’s funny having a mom in the porn business. Everyone you meet knows what she looks like naked, not to mention all the things she’s done on-camera. I oddly wondered if Sara had ever seen my mom peeing on someone or being peed on.

Mom smiled and said hello. Sara just stood there for a moment before remembering her manners.

“Oh! Sorry! Um, won’t you come?” She blushed, then changed her question, “I mean, won’t you come in?”

Mom was used to this by now. She usually had women gushing over her — in more ways than one — and men leering at her, as if she’d never really been fucked before because she hadn’t been fucked by them. I was really starting to dislike men, but the ones I already knew were okay, I guess.

We walked into the entry foyer and stood there. Silence had descended on us like an uncomfortable blanket.

“Where is everyone?” I asked, more to break the awkward quiet.

“Oh, uh, in the den. I’ll show you.” With that, Sara led us through the house to the den, which opened onto a spacious yard with a tall privacy fence and a pool. The curtains were pulled open so we could look out onto the well-cared-for lawn, pool, and fence.

In the den, a large sectional sofa lined one wall, forming an L shape to cover half the other wall. It seemed big enough to comfortably seat twenty people. A big TV was set so that people on the sofa could watch it. Marie was watching a movie, but it wasn’t a Disney film. This was one of my mom’s movies.

Mom saw this and said, “Well, at least you all have good taste,” and Sara laughed a bit. It was an uncomfortable laugh, as if she’d been caught doing something naughty.

Mom looked at Sara and said, “Maybe one day soon you can experience me in the flesh.”

Sara blushed deeply. It was obvious she had probably fantasized about doing just that, especially in the last few minutes.

“Would you like that?” Mom asked. Sara nodded. Her knees were beginning to tremble, and I wondered if she were about to come. Maybe she had spontaneous orgasms like Marie.

“Well,” Mom said, “I guess I’ll go and leave you kids to your fun. Don’t anyone get pregnant.” We all laughed at her joke.

Jenna and I stepped to Mom and kissed her goodbye. She used her tongue and I could tell she was horny. I wasn’t sure who would be the beneficiary of this, but whoever it was would be in for a treat.

After we kissed, I asked, “Who’s coming over tonight?”

“Nobody. I’m flying solo,” Mom said, smiling and winking at me.

When Mom finished kissing Jenna and me, she walked over to Sara. Linda, Marie’s sixteen-year-old sister, had arrived in the den and was now staring at my mom in disbelief as well. She had literally stopped dead and her eyes had bugged when she saw her.

Mom took Sara’s hand and said, “Thank you for hosting this little mini-orgy. I’m sure everyone will enjoy it.” With that, she leaned over and kissed Sara. Sara’s response was immediate. She wrapped her arms around Mom and accepted the tongue that was thrust into her mouth.

Mom’s hands wrapped around Sara’s waist before dropping to her very shapely butt. She squeezed the horny twenty-year-old’s ass, sliding a finger along the crease in her shorts formed by her butt crack.

Stopping suddenly, Mom moved to Linda and repeated her embrace. Meanwhile, Sara looked over at me then back at my mom. Her hand seemed to involuntarily move to her pussy and rub for a few seconds. I watched as a shudder shook her. She hadn’t come, but I could tell she was not far from it.

When Mom’s kiss with Linda ended, Mom moved away from her and took a deep breath, blowing the air out through slightly puckered lips. “My, that was nice.” Then turning to Sara, Mom said, “Are you sure you don’t mind bringing them home tomorrow? I don’t mind stopping in to pick them up.”

“No, that’s fine. I really don’t mind at all. I’d like to see where you live.” The twinkle in her eye let Mom know the exact reason she wanted to be able to find our house.

“Okay, then,” Mom said, “I’ll see you around noon?”

Sara answered her with a laugh. “If we’re up and moving by then.”

As Mom left the room, I noticed Linda’s hand was also at her crotch, squeezing her pussy. A shudder that was identical to Sara’s ran through her like a wave rushing with the tide.

Sara looked at me. “Cheryl, do you have any idea how lucky you are?” she asked, still trying to catch her breath.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” I said.

“I’m lucky, too!” Jenna said, which earned a smile from Sara and Linda both.

“Yes, you are,” said Sara.

“Okay,” said Linda. “Everyone strip. But there’s one rule we must follow, no matter how difficult it gets to follow it: No touching anyone’s pussy but your own until the other girls arrive, and no coming even if you touch yourself.”

“No coming? Like all night?” Jenna asked, worried about her ability to adhere to that rule, I’m sure.

Linda laughed. “No, sorry if I wasn’t clear. No coming until everyone gets here, and even then you have to wait at least ten minutes to allow the late-comers to catch up.”

We took off our clothes, and Marie and I started making out. We couldn’t touch each other’s pussy, but we could squeeze each other’s butt or play with each other’s boobs, which we definitely enjoyed doing.

Jenna contented herself with having a ‘no pussy-touching’ threesome with Sara and Linda, though I noticed Sara sometimes would manage to get in a quick feel of my little sister’s bald mound. I guess I couldn’t blame her. Unless there was someone I didn’t know about, she’d not been with anyone that young since Marie was ten, three years ago.

Soon, the doorbell rang and Sara put on a robe to answer it in case it was someone unexpected.

It was Deanna. She had brought a surprise with her — a video of her and her little cousin, Tori, who was five. Deanna’s older sister Elizabeth, who was seventeen, had made the video on their last visit. Deanna had told me about the video, but I’d never seen it.

As we sat to watch the video, the doorbell rang again. It was Carmen. Her aunt Gwen, our private investigator, was dropping her off. I wanted to ask Gwen how she was after her scary meeting with one of Mr. Craven’s men, but I didn’t want to spoil the atmosphere that had begun to build in the room.

Once Gwen left (after getting an eyeful of naked, young flesh), we all sat down to watch the video. I took the opportunity to lean over to Carmen and ask if Gwen had done anything with her yet. She smiled and said, “Tell ya later.” I knew from that the answer was yes, but I was anxious to hear the details.

We sat back to watch the movie of Deanna and her five-year-old cousin, Tori. The “no pussy touching” rule was no longer in effect, so I reached over to Marie and Deanna and began massaging their clits, pushing my finger into their pussies and drawing it out again, wet with their lubricating juices. I would smear the fluids all over their labia and begin my explorations again.

They were nice enough to do the same for me.

I looked over and saw that Sara was now with Jenna and Linda was having fun with Carmen. It was obvious these girls liked young girls, and it seemed the younger the girl was, the better, though I’m fairly certain there was an age limit. I just didn’t know what it might be. They were also mesmerized by the video of Deanna and Tori.

As were we all.

I looked around again and realized this was going to be one of the best parties I’d ever been to.

And this time, my predictions were totally accurate.

Continue on to Chapter 38