Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

 

A brief recap: Single mother and secret lesbian Amanda receives some wonderful news from Caroline, the dance instructor for her eleven-year-old daughter Katie. She informs Amanda that Katie is being considered as a fairy for Latchmore House, a magical kingdom of sorts for young girls.  Upon arriving home, Amanda reminisces over her own first visit to Latchmore, where she engaged in some very heavy flirtation with a pretty fairy named Emily. That night, young Amanda masturbated while thinking of Emily — only to be caught in the act by her Aunt Eileen, who offers to teach her niece more about lovely things girls can do in bed together.

This new chapter takes us back to the present.

 

by C. Cat

It was the day after Amanda got the good news about the possibility of her little girl Katie becoming one of the Latchmore Fairies. She’d just arrived home from work when the ringtone sounded on her cell phone, and when the name Caroline Scott appeared on the caller ID, she felt a rush of giddy anticipation.

“Caroline!” she answered, trying to get the butterflies in her tummy under control as she took a nearby chair. “So lovely to hear from you. I was just thinking about the chat we had yesterday.”

“Ah, so was I. Listen, I mentioned getting coffee with you sometime… now, I’m calling to see if we could make it a dinner date instead — say Lucia’s, this Friday?”

A dinner date? Yes, yes, yes! Amanda gazed heavenward, giving silent thanks. She suspected Caroline was interested in more than food, so this promised to be an exciting new experience. Her few lesbian encounters had all been spur-of-the-moment hookups — she’d never actually been on a date with a woman before.

“Dinner sounds wonderful. And actually, I’ve always wanted to try Lucia’s.” She felt giddy as a schoolgirl being asked to the prom.

“Oh, you’ll love it. The food is to die for… and it’s got a very romantic atmosphere. How about I pick you up at five o’clock?”

“Sounds perfect. I can’t wait.”

Amanda was beaming as they said their goodbyes, the itch of desire already building inside her. She hadn’t even noticed that, at some point during the call, Katie had entered the room and picked up on the gist of her conversation.

“You have a date?” the eleven-year-old said with a delighted grin, clearly hungry for the details. Mum hadn’t ever dated, not for as long as Katie could remember.

“Yes, I do. Is that okay?”

“Are you kidding? Yes, of course! That’s so cool! Um, is he anyone I know?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” Amanda said, “but it might take a while. Why don’t I call out for pizza, then we can change out of these clothes and have the rest of the night to chat?”

“Yay – pizza!” Katie cheered.

After dinner, mother and daughter were in their pyjamas and seated together on the couch. Amanda wore a red satin pair that felt very soft against her skin and a matching robe. Katie was wearing her favourite pink flannel pyjamas that were beginning to thin with wear, but she refused to throw them away.

“Is this talk going to be about sex?” Katie said with a precocious smile. “’Cause Meghan told me she just had that talk with her mum.”

“I think this might be a bit different from what you expect… but yes, part of it is going to be about sex. If you’re uncomfortable, or if you have questions you need to ask, let me know, okay?”

“Sure, Mummy.” Katie said, sitting up straight with her legs folded. “Anything you want to talk about, I’m ready.”

Earlier that day, Amanda had looked online for advice on how best to come out to your children. While it did encourage her to read that most children were accepting when it came to having gay parents, nothing else she found there was especially helpful. Finally, she decided to simply tell Katie the truth and hope for the best.

Taking a deep breath, she began. “You asked if you knew the person I’m going out with, Katie. Well, you do, and actually, it’s a ‘she’. I have a date with your dance instructor, Caroline.”

That caught Katie by surprise, as Amanda knew it would. The girl sat quietly, processing what she’d been told. Amanda waited for the girl’s reaction. She doesn’t seem upset or disgusted — that’s a good sign.

Finally, Katie looked up at her mother. “It’s like a real date? Like with, y’know, kissing and – and stuff?”

Amanda slowly nodded. “Yes, a real date. We haven’t kissed yet, but I want to.”

“That means you, er… you like girls?”

“That’s one of the things I wanted to talk about, dearest. It’s true, I only like girls… well, women. I don’t know if there is a better way to say it, but I’m a lesbian.”

Katie frowned. “But… you and Daddy… Did you change your mind and decide you like girls more?”

“No, I always liked girls. I guess I was just afraid of what people would think so I tried to fit in and hide my feelings. I suppose it sounds dumb now, but I thought if I pretended long enough, I might be able to prefer men. That never happened, of course. I did care for your father, and I’m so, so thankful we had you… but my relationship with him was never really what you’d call romantic.”

Katie understood that. Even though she was very young when her parents divorced, she’d always had a sense that their marriage was never a very happy one. “Does this mean you aren’t afraid now?”

Amanda gave her daughter a wistful smile. “Oh, I’m still afraid… Mostly I was scared you’d be upset, but you’re growing up and deserve to know the truth. I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore.”

Drawing closer, Katie gave her mother a very tight hug. “I’m not upset, Mummy. I love you, and I want you to be happy.”

“I love you too, baby girl.”

Katie did have other questions, though; she was just uncertain how to put them into words. Finally, she looked up at her mother and hesitantly spoke. “So, um, you want to have girl sex with Ms. Scott, right?”

Amanda took a deep breath. She wasn’t used to discussing such things like this and was a little surprised that her daughter wanted to know such things. Still, she was determined to be honest, come what may. “Oh  Caroline and I would need to decide together what we did with one another… but yes, having sex is certainly something I would want in a relationship with Caroline.”

“That’s what I don’t understand. See, Becca from my class has two mommies. I saw them kiss once, but Becca says they sleep together and even do sex things. I guess I’ve been wondering about that. I mean, like… I kinda know how a boy puts his thing in a girl to make babies — they showed us a video about that in school — but how do you do girl sex?”

Folding her arms, Amanda pondered her daughter’s question for a moment before she answered. “The thing to keep in mind is that sex isn’t just for making babies — at least it ought not to be. It’s more about sharing yourself with a lover, giving her something special that brings you closer together.

“But to answer your question, there’s quite a lot two girls can do when they make love – kissing, touching and… well, some other really special things.”

“Okay, I think I understand,” Katie said before drifting off in thought again. She felt like asking more about those ‘special things’, but sensed that her mum might not want to answer.

“I guess I do have another question,” she said a moment later. “You say you always liked girls, but how did you know you really liked them?”

Rubbing her chin thoughtfully, Amanda finally shrugged. “I don’t know if there is one way to be sure, to be honest. I know that beautiful women make me all tingly inside, and I’ve never felt that way with a man. Back when I was your age, every time I ever fell in love, it was always with a girl.” She gave a shaky laugh. “I had an awful lot of helpless crushes in those days.”

Katie was staring down at her hands as if avoiding her mother’s gaze. “Er… can I ask one more thing?”

“You don’t need permission to ask me questions, baby girl. Fire away.”

“Is it okay if… if I’m a lesbian? ‘Cause I kinda feel the same way. Um, about girls.”

This possibility had never occurred to Amanda, and it caught her by surprise. Guess I’m not the only one who’s been keeping a secret.

Taking the girl’s hands, she said, “Oh, dearest… it’s perfectly okay for you to like girls. I know it can be confusing while you’re figuring things out for yourself, but know that you’ll always, always have my love and support. No matter what.”

“Oh, Mum!” Katie threw both arms around her mother, hugging her tightly as she began to tear up.

“Now, now,” Amanda murmured, gently patting her sniffling daughter’s back. “What’s this about? There’s no need to cry, love.” She nuzzled Katie’s sweet-smelling hair, rocking the girl from side to side. “So tell me… when did you first start having these feelings?”

“I’ve known for… oh, a long time. I just didn’t know how to tell you.” Raising her head, Katie gave Amanda a bashful smile. “Guess I could’ve said something a whole lot sooner, huh?”

“Well, I shouldn’t have waited as long as I did to tell you I was gay,” Amanda replied. She gave her daughter a squeeze. “Let’s make a promise – right here, right now. No more secrets between us, okay?”

Katie pondered the idea. “So… if I kissed a girl, or, y’know, did stuff with her… I could tell you about it? And you wouldn’t get mad, or tell me I wasn’t old enough?”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“And when you do sex things with Ms. Scott… can I ask you about that? The stuff you guys do together?”

Amanda raised her hands. “Hold on, hold on. I haven’t even kissed her yet!”

“Yeah, but if you do…” Katie was sporting a wicked grin.

“Hmmm… well, I’ll have to think about that. She’s your instructor, after all, so I’m not sure that would be fair to her.” Noticing her daughter’s pout, she added, “Tell you what – if we do have sex, I’ll tell you that, but I’m not sure it would be right to get into the intimate details.”

“I guess that’s okay,” said Katie. “But no more secrets, right? Can we pinky swear on it?”

“Fair enough.” Amanda extended her little finger and linked it with Katie’s. They both tugged.

***

Later that night, after tucking Katie in, Amanda went back to her room and undressed, then ran herself a hot bath. While relaxing in the steamy water, she thought about their talk.

She’d spent many nights fantasizing about young girls, thinking about how special it would be to give a cute preteen her first lesbian experiences. Now, she couldn’t help but imagine what her daughter’s first time would be like. Would she find a friend to practice kissing with, then allow things to develop naturally from there? Or might she have a special unexpected encounter, like Amanda’s first time with her sweet fairy Emily?

Maybe Katie’s first time will be at Latchmore, too, Amanda told herself. The idea thrilled her, made her cunt throb.

She pictured a little auburn-haired fairy with deep, dark eyes, just like Emily’s had been… but this enticing creature is holding hands with her daughter, who is now a fairy herself. The two of them slip away, off to a  private place in the garden. There, the girls turn to face each other, and Emily leans in to steal a kiss.

Amanda pressed two fingers to her lips, trying to imagine what Katie would feel as that little girl’s soft mouth touches hers.

Letting her fingers slowly trace a pathway down her body, Amanda pictured the fairies gently touching each other. Soon her fingers slipped between her parted thighs while the fantasy drifted to a vision of Katie, tucked up in her bed.

Maybe this new Emily would sneak into Katie’s room at night – slipping into bed, caressing her body, then moving in to kiss her. At first it will just be touching and kissing. Katie’s body is tingling from head to toe, and she is already eager for more. But Emily won’t rush her, not for their first time. Nor will she allow Katie to touch herself, either. Emily wants to be the one to make my little girl come.

Emily’s long, lingering strokes come closer and closer to Katie’s knickers, but much as Katie arches her back and squirms, she doesn’t get that special contact she longs for. Soon she is begging Emily, Touch me there, please please touch me there.

Slowly and methodically, the teasing and seduction continues. Emily straddles the whimpering girl’s chest, until her pussy nearly t Katie’s mouth. She spreads her lips apart, fully exposing everything she has to her new lover.

Look how wet you’re making me, Emily says as she trails a finger up and down through her honey-glazed slit. Would you like me to make your pussy nice and juicy like this?

Yes! Yes, please! Katie begs.

Emily reaches back to touch Katie, but she’s not yet done with her teasing. Slipping her hand inside the eleven-year-old’s panties, she allows her fingers to graze Katie’s still-smooth slit.

Katie moans as the tip of Emily’s finger barely eases its way into her vagina. She thrusts her hips forward to take more of it inside, but Emily draws back, refusing to be rushed. Feeling the little girl grow moist, she carefully fondles Katie’s pudenda until her fingers are coated with the thick, warm nectar.

Withdrawing her hand, Emily holds it up to breathe in Katie’s scent. You smell lovely, she says, then takes a finger into her mouth to taste.

She samples the flavour, then smiles. Mmmm… Katie, I’m going to love licking your pussy, Emily says with a smile. Would you like to taste mine now?

Katie is practically bouncing on the bed, beside herself with excitement. Yes, I would!

Spreading her own cunt with her free hand, Emily reaches down with her wet fingers to stir Katie’s juices together with her own. You know, we’re going to rub our pussies together, she says, and all our juices will get mixed together, just like I’m doing now.

Emily returns the index finger to her mouth, tastes it again. It’s even yummier now! she declares, then reaches for more of Katie’s honey. Once again she presses it between her legs, sighing blissfully at how lovely that feels, then gazes into Katie’s eager eyes. Ready for your first taste of pussy?.

Yes… please let me lick you! the little girl gasps, now frantic in the face of her desperate need.

Emily pauses, pretending to consider it, then shifts her hips forward towards Katie’s waiting mouth.

Use your tongue on me, Katie, she says. Make me come in your face.

Amanda felt her orgasm rising inside as she pumped two fingers deep inside with one hand, furiously rubbing her clit with the other.

She pictured her little girl with her almost flat chest, tiny waist, and strong slender legs, going down on a Latchmore Fairy, her own little lesbian lover. It was so naughty and wrong, masturbating to thoughts of her daughter, but the fantasy was far too compelling to deny.

She wanted to be there to see it happen, to watch Katie enjoy her first lesbian fuck. More than that, she wanted to join them. She pictured her child with legs spread wide, whispering, It’s okay, Mummy… you can taste me. I want you to.

I would do it, yes! Amanda thought. I would lick Katie’s pretty pussy. Just as Aunt Eileen used to lick mine.

With that vision exploding in her mind, she was battered by a convulsive orgasm, the most intense she’d had in years. Her body jerked and shuddered, each breath hissing through clenched teeth. Finally, with a choked gasp, she went limp.

For several minutes afterward, Amanda lay trembling, thinking about what she’d done – and what it meant.

Little did she know that at the very same time, Katie was thinking about her.

***

For nearly a week after that evening Amanda and Katie went without discussing sex. Even so, the topic was never far from their minds. This became apparent when the two of them went clothes shopping in preparation for Amanda’s date with her daughter’s teacher.

It took them a while to settle on the right outfit. They agreed that it had to be something sexy, “and sort of naughty, but not too naughty,” Katie insisted. They ended up choosing a simple black dress with a spaghetti strap top, empire waist, and a skirt that came to just above her knees. The look was a bit more youthful than Amanda would normally wear, but Katie insisted it was perfect. The right shoes were harder to find — Amanda wanted something that looked nice but would also be comfortable enough if they went somewhere to dance. In the end, they found a pair of three-inch strappy heels that fit the bill.

Amanda had a notion to go without a bra or panties, but didn’t have the nerve to make such a brazen move on a first date. It didn’t matter anyway, because Katie all but dragged her into Victoria’s Secret.

The salesgirl looked to be about seventeen, and was as pretty as could be with very large breasts that were snugly contained by a tight yellow sweater. She introduced herself as Jordan.

Amanda liked her cheerful smile and the cute little bounce she had when she talked that made those firm breasts jiggle. She instantly felt tongue-tied. Not only was she worried that Jordan would notice her obvious attraction, there was also the nervousness she felt about shopping for sexy underwear with her preteen daughter — what on earth would this girl think?

Noticing her mother hesitate, Katie quickly spoke up. “My mum is going out on a first date on Friday. She hasn’t dated in a while, so we want to get her something really special.” Feeling an elfin impulse, she added, “You know – in case she gets to take her dress off.”

“Katie,” Amanda protested, “I’m sure Jordan isn’t interested in my social life.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” the salesgirl replied, a knowing twinkle in her eye. “For what it’s worth, I hope you get lucky on Friday,” Her eyes travelled up and down Amanda’s body. “Though from what I see, I’d say that your date is the lucky one.”

“She is,” said Katie, nodding her head, “but Mum’s lucky too, ‘cos they’re both really hot!”

Amanda was on the verge of scolding her daughter, but then noticed that Jordan wasn’t at all thrown by the revelation that her customer was preparing for a date with another woman. In fact, her smile only deepened.

“Well, in that case,” Jordan cooed, “I suppose we should get started.” She reached out to Katie. “Want to help me find something for your mum?”

Katie seized the outstretched hand, and they were off. From that moment on, Amanda was just along for the ride while Katie and Jordan searched the store.

As her daughter and the salesgirl pored through the lingerie, Amanda noticed that Jordan was paying quite a bit of attention to Katie… almost as if she was attracted to her. Sure enough, the older girl was stealing glances at Katie’s bare legs, which were nicely displayed in a pair of cute blue shorts. Meanwhile, it didn’t escape Amanda’s notice that her daughter seemed equally smitten by Jordan, taking a very obvious interest in the teen’s breasts.

This only heightened Amanda’s own arousal. She found herself drifting into a fantasy in which she and Katie undressed this sexy shopgirl and took her together, right there on the floor.

In the midst of their flirtation, Jordan and Katie finally picked out what they agreed was an ideal choice. “Believe me,” said Jordan, “you can not go wrong with a lacy black bra and matching panties on a first date. If this doesn’t get your lady hot, she’s only pretending to be into women!”

Once Amanda agreed with the purchase, Jordan studied Katie thoughtfully. “By the way, as long as you’re here… has Katie been fitted for a bra yet?”

That caught Amanda off guard. Christ almighty, she’s a bold one. Still, she couldn’t deny that the thought of this older girl examining a half-naked Katie excited her in a big way. Her panties were positively sodden.

“No, she never has,” Amanda slowly said, trying to make it sound casual in the face of her mounting heat. “That seems like an excellent idea to me. What do you say, Katie?”

Katie nodded eagerly. “Yeah… I’d love to!”

Quickly producing her pink measuring tape, Jordan escorted Katie to the changing room, turning to give Amanda a saucy wink just before she disappeared behind the curtain.

After a few trips in and out to select items for Katie to try on, she and Jordan had assembled a very nice collection of bralettes and other assorted pieces Amanda’s daughter. In the end, it turned out to be an expensive trip, but Katie was all smiles when they left the store.

“Oh, my goodness!” the eleven-year-old gushed as they walked through the mall, fanning herself with one hand. “That girl was so hot!”

“I thought so, too,” Amanda said. “It looked like she was flirting with you, too.”

“I know, right? Anyway, that’s what it felt like. When we were in the changing room and I took my shirt off, I told her I was a little embarrassed, ‘cause I hardly have anything at all up top — not like her. She said not to worry, that hers were about the same at my age… and even if they don’t get big, lots of people prefer smaller ones anyhow. She even touched me there — it could have been an accident, but I don’t think so.”

“That sounds less like flirting…” Amanda said, “and more like she was hitting on you.”

Katie halted in her tracks. “No way! Maybe we should go back!”

She said it like a joke, but Amanda was now certain that Katie wanted to experience lesbian sex with her new friend. “We’ll go shopping there again soon, dearest. It’ll give you a chance to get to know her better.”

In the meantime, she intended to hold on to the business card Jordan had slipped into the bag with their purchases. I wouldn’t mind having a piece of that teen dream myself.

Neither of them said very much until later, on the drive back home. Katie was deep in thought, looking as if she wanted to ask something.

Eventually, Amanda spoke. “What’s up, dearest?”

“Oh, I was just thinking about another question I had… you know, about, sex stuff?”

“I told you, love – you can always ask me anything. Even about sex. Especially about sex!”

Katie giggled. “Well, okay. Um, I wanted to know more about touching yourself. Down there, y’know?”

“It’s called masturbation. It’s healthy and normal, and there’s nothing bad about it.”

“Really? That’s what I wanted to ask about. See, Leah’s mum caught her doing that, and she told her it was dirty and wrong — she even made Leah tell her dad what she did, and then she got grounded. But Becca said both her mums told her it was totally natural, and everybody does it.”

“I think Becca’s mothers are right, and no one should feel guilty about masturbating… but unfortunately, there are a lot of people who think like Leah’s mom. Still, it’s not just what I think that counts here — how do you feel about it?”

“Umm… well, sometimes when I see a pretty girl – y’know, like Jordan – I get this feeling down there, and it kinda makes me want to do it… touch myself. So, it’s okay if I do that… as long as it’s, um, in private?”

Amanda gave her child a big smile. “Of course it is. That’s a special part about growing up, one you should enjoy.”

Leaning in close, Katie wrapped both arms around Amanda. “You’re the best mom ever.”

“Easy there, youngster!” Amanda laughed. “I’m driving here!”

As soon as they arrived home, Katie parked the bag with her new underthings on the sofa, then rushed upstairs to her room. It wasn’t hard to imagine what she was up to, and Amanda wanted nothing more than to take a peek, even though she knew better than to violate the girl’s privacy. Even so, she knew the image of her daughter masturbating to thoughts of Jordan would be part of her own fantasies that night.

On to Chapter Three!

Go here for a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” To get a thumbnail summary of the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

As Kiki was away, Mum invited Henri to stay with us for the weekend while Lilly was staying over at Evie’s. The two little ones were inseparable and now pretty much lived together, shuttling back and forth between each other’s houses.

On Friday night after we’d had dinner, Mum smiled at Henri and me and said, “Come upstairs, girls.” There was nothing unusual about going upstairs to fuck Mum, even with Henri there, but the matter-of-fact way she asked had me wondering if something was up.

She invited us to sit on the bed, then she handed me a small plain plastic carrier bag with some boxes inside.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Have a look and see.”

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Mum had got me not one, but two vibrators!

One was a small, gold-coloured bullet with a ring you put your finger in to hold it steady. The button on the end started it off, and the box said it had fifteen different settings!

The other one was a proper vibrator. It was long and pink, smooth all over and didn’t look at all like a penis. It was so incredibly cute. It looked rather large at first glance, but when I studied the packaging it said, 5-Inch Beginner’s Ultravibe, so I figured it wouldn’t be too long to go inside me. Also in the carrier was a purple velvet drawstring bag and a box of sanitary wipes.

After I’d finished squealing with delight and hugging Mum half to death, she said, “Before and after you use these, or indeed any sex toys, give them a good clean with the wipes. Let me know when you run out and I’ll get you more. It’s important to do this, sweetie, so you don’t get an infection.”

“Okay, Mum,” I said, examining my new treasures. I switched the bullet vibrator on – bloody hell, it was powerful! I jumped so hard, I nearly fell off the bed, and Mum and Henri burst into laughter. I felt a right muppet, though I suppose it was pretty funny.

“The best way to tell how a vibrator will feel on the clit is to touch it to the tip of your nose,” said Henri.

Okay, that sounded like she was having me on. “You’re making that up,” I told her.

“No it’s true… here.” Henri took the bullet from me. She put it to her nose, then squirmed and giggled. “Oh, my, yes. That’s going to send you straight to the moon, Poppy.”

“Huh. I thought you were taking the piss.”

Henri giggled. “Well, Pops” – she had recently started calling me Pops, which I quite liked – “had I thought of a good joke, I’d have played it on you, so your thinking was on the money.”

So adorable. I leaned in to give Henri a passionate kiss, then I looked back and forth between her and Mum. “Well, are you two planning to help me use these things, or what?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Henri said, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.

“Erm…a little overdressed, aren’t we?” Mum pointed out.

I quickly got naked, as did Mum and Henri, then lay down with one of them on either side of me. I was nice and comfy, nestled between two beautifully bare women. Spreading my legs, I switched the bullet to its lowest setting, then cautiously touched it to my clit.

“Jesus FUCK! Oh, my… What the… Oooooohhhhh!”

It hit me like a truck. I was in shock, like I’d fallen in freezing cold water and couldn’t catch my breath. I was panting like a marathon runner from the second the toy touched me. Less than a minute later I came so hard I thought I’d peed myself, but was too shagged out to look and see. When I recovered, Mum gave me some chocolate and a Coke.

“Pretty intense, huh?” grinned Henri.

“Intense? Fuck, that was like… a nuclear orgasm.”

“Nuclear orgasm… I Iike that,” giggled Mum.

“I can’t wait to see how you get on with this one,” Henri said, passing me the pink vibrator.

While I got used to the feel of the toy in my hand, Mum told me, “I, er, have a small confession.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

“Have you noticed that I’ve been using my fingers on you a lot lately?”

I paused to think. “Now you mention it, yes.”

“I was sort of preparing you, I guess – making sure you were ready for, well, something bigger.”

“Oh, Mum… you should have said, I wouldn’t have minded! I totally trust you.”

Mum took me in her arms. “My dear sweet Poppy, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” We snuggled for a bit.

“Hey, Pops,” Henri said, pointing to the pink vibrator, which I was still holding, “want me to use that on you?” I think she was impatient to get back to the sex.

“Erm, well… thanks, Henri, but I really want to learn how to use this myself. Next time, okay?”

Luckily, her feelings weren’t hurt. “It’s your party, lover,” she said with a cute wink.

I switched the pink vibrator on at its lowest setting – just a continuous buzz really. Mum and Henri both agreed that the more unusual settings are fun to experiment with, but for actually getting off they preferred a steady vibration rather than a funky pattern. Lying back, I took a deep breath. “Okay, here I go…”

It didn’t feel as strong as the bullet, but maybe that was because this time I was prepared for it. I’d already come once, so my pussy was nice and slippery and the smooth vibrator slid easily into my hole. I just put the tip in at first, like Mum told me I should.

The feeling was immense. I mean, whole-body-tingling, head-spinning incredible. And I’d only put about an inch of it inside! I pulled it out, took a few seconds to catch my breath, then slipped it back into my vagina, going a bit deeper this time.

The size wasn’t uncomfortable at all, but the toy’s vibrations were so intense that it was making me sort of crazy, like a party was kicking off in my body. I felt like I was about to come, and I didn’t want to just yet. A moment later, I took it out.

Mum frowned. “You okay, sweetie? Does it hurt?”

“No, it’s just so, so powerful.”

She patted my thigh. “You don’t have to do it all in one day, sweetie.”

“No, I want to, but – but maybe, um, I do need a little help, after all.” I looked up at Henri.

“Here, pass it to me,” said Henri. I did, and she switched it off. “Okay, spread your legs.”

I opened myself up for her and she slipped the toy in my pussy. It entered me with no trouble. “Speak up right away if it hurts, okay?” she told me.

“Uh-huh. It feels fine, now it’s turned off,” I said.

“Your first orgasm with a vibe is always going to leave you super sensitive for a bit. I’ll try bringing you to the edge with it switched off, then I’ll turn it on and see how that feels.”

“Oh my God, that sounds good,”

I felt as safe in Henri’s hands as I did my mother’s. I trusted everyone in the Mad Eleven, of course, but Kiki and Henri were already like family to me. Using a slow slightly up and down movement Henri pushed the vibrator further and further into me. Mum was lying alongside, rubbing her cunt while she watched Henri fuck me with a toy for the first time.

Quite soon after she started, Henri grinned up at me and said, “It’s almost all the way in. Take a look.”

Propping myself up on both elbows, I peered between my legs. The five-inch vibe was buried deep inside me, just the very end sticking out where Henri was gripping it. I loved the way it looked, how it spread my pussy lips apart.

“God, that’s s-so fucking hot,” Mum gasped, and then she began to come.

I thought a little dirty talk might make her orgasm even better, so I started right in swearing, “Mummy, look, Henri’s fucking my cunt, can you see?”

“Now try it yourself,” Henri said, releasing the end of the vibrator. I took it in my hand and started pushing it in and out of myself – carefully at first, but within a few strokes I was going harder and deeper than Henri had done. It made me feel so amazingly sexy. I’m doing it. I’m fucking myself!

“Oh yes, sweetie… do it, baby girl… fuck your p-pretty little cunt,” Mum was panting, riding the wave of her climax.

I only went faster, plunging the toy in and out, in and out. It didn’t hurt at all – in fact, it felt better than ever! Henri was kneeling next to me and masturbating, her pussy so close to my face that I could smell it.

“It’s spread me open…it’s filling me up completely Mummy…I’m fucking my self mummy…mummy.”

My orgasm kinda crept up on me, I think I dirty talked myself into coming! I was ramming the thing in and out hard and staying right on the edge. Then I felt Henri touch my thigh.

“Let me.”

She took over and the difference was immediate. Maybe it was the angle, or her wrist technique, or that it was someone else fucking me, but I came straight away, and she didn’t even turn the vibrator on!

My orgasms often vary in how they feel and how intense they are. Sometimes they are like blissful sighs, other times they pound me mercilessly. The orgasm I got from the vibrator was in the mid-range, as far as intensity goes, but it felt very different somehow, much more inside me.

I know that sounds obvious, but as a girl of ten, it hadn’t occurred to me that there were varieties of sexual ecstasy. When the bullet sent my clit into overdrive, it was an electric sensation that raced through me, but centered between my legs. This climax, though, started deep inside and radiated outward in waves that got faster and faster as I came. It wasn’t better or worse, just different. After I’d recovered I explained all this to Mum and Henri.

“You should try the bullet and the vibe together,” said Henri. “The last time I did that, Mum said I practically screamed the house down.”

“Shit, I bet that’s incredible.”

“I’m sure you’ll be trying it on yourself soon,” said Mum. “Now, there’s something else I’ve got for you.”

She got to her feet, and I sat up cross-legged and watched as she took a small suitcase down from the top of the wardrobe, the sort you would take on a plane, then set it before me.

Mum indicated a small set of dials at the top of the suitcase. “The combination is 9876. Do NOT give it to Lilly, understand?”

“Yes, Mum.”

“Good girl. Now, sweetie, this is my toy case… and now it’s yours, too. You can keep the things I just gave in your room, if you like – but don’t leave them lying about, pop them in the velvet bag and in your bedside drawer. However, if you’re in the mood for something a little different, you’re welcome to go through these.” She twiddled the dials to the proper combination, then opened the lid of the case.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head. The sheer number and array of toys that Mum had in there was amazing. I didn’t know where to look; it was crammed full. While I gawped at the contents, Henri said, “Next time you come over, I’ll show you our toy chest. I know Mum won’t mind… in fact, I bet she’ll want to try some of her gear out on you.”

Mum chimed in. “Poppy, If you think this is impressive, just wait till you see Kiki’s toy collection. It’ll blow your mind.”

“I can’t wait to see them, but right now my mind is kind of blown by what you’ve got here! What’s this for?” I held up a purple thing that was C-shaped, like a sort of horseshoe with bulbous tips at each end.

Mum pointed at the different bits. “That part goes inside you, and this end rests against your clit. You can control it with an app.”

I took a second to process that. “So… I could put this in you and control it on my phone?”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s crazy! I could be, like, miles away, huh?”

“You could be in Australia, and it wouldn’t make a difference,” Henri said. “I’ve had control of it while your mum wore it to work. Now that was fun!” said Henri.

“You’re kidding me!”

Mum went red. “Stop it, Henri, you’re giving her ideas. And no, Poppy, don’t even think about it, I creamed my knickers in a board meeting, I had to tell them I was unwell and excuse myself,” said Mum, her expression quite serious. Henri was in fits of giggles, and by the time Mum finished we were both in hysterics.

“It’s not funny,” Mum protested, making us laugh even harder, then she gave us a sheepish smile. “Okay, I suppose it is.”

The one in the bag that really caught my eye was a huge realistic looking penis, complete with balls. It was thick and half as long as my arm. When I picked it up it was surprisingly heavy, too.

“That might be a bit optimistic,” joked Henri.

I scoffed. “Don’t worry, this isn’t going anywhere near my pussy. I’m just surprised they make them this big.”

“That’s one of your mum’s favourites.”

“Get out! I thought this was a joke one! Mum, you can’t honestly get this whole thing inside yourself… can you?”

Mum blushed a bit. “You’d be surprised. It’s actually not my favourite, but when I’m in the mood it has its uses. To be honest, I’m not sure if I’ve ever taken the whole thing. See that suction cup on the base? I use that to stick it to the bathroom floor, then I ride it while I use the bullet on my clit.”

“Okay, now I’m impressed,” I said truthfully.

Mum reached into the suitcase. “This is the one we spoke about, Henri.” She took out a dildo, shaped a bit like a penis but not as realistic as the big one. It was purple with sparkly bits.

Henri studied it carefully, then passed it back to my mother and nodded. “Perfect.”

Mum handed it to me. “What do you think of this?”

“It’s bigger than my vibe.”

“Thicker, too,” said Henri.

“Keep it with your other ones,” Mum told me. “When you’ve used the pink one a few more times, you can move up to this. I don’t want you using anything bigger, okay? I’m trusting you to do as I ask. There are lots of things in here for you to try, but this is the size limit for now.”

“Okay, Mum. I think this is more than big enough. I’m not even sure I’ll try it. I’ll hang on to it, though.”

Who was I kidding? I had good intentions, but I also knew that curiosity was sure to get the better of me. I’d have that purple vibrator in my pussy before the week was out.

“Whatever you want, sweetie. Go at your own speed. Now, there’s one more type of toy I don’t want you to use just yet.” She produced a small silver thing with a beautiful pink gem at one end.

“This is a butt plug, and yes, this bit goes in your bum, and the gem stops it from slipping all the way in.”

She handed it to me. It was far heavier than I expected and cold, and about the width of two, maybe three of my fingers.

“It’s cute, but looks big. Does that go in easily?”

“With lube and practice, it does. It can be fun, but you’re too young. You can experiment with your bum as you get older, but for now let’s stick to just tongues and fingers in there, okay?”

As much as I liked the idea of a cute pink gem decorating my bottom, it did look much too big. “That’s fine with me Mum. Still, there’s loads of other stuff here that I’d love to try.” I picked up the remote-controlled horseshoe.

Mum grinned. “You like the idea of this one, eh?”

“Maybe, not sure.”

“Here, take this.” Mum handed me a bottle of lube. “Even if you’re already wet, a little lube can make these toys feel even better.”

“Okay, I’ll try it.”

We spent ages rooting through Mumls case, looking at all of the different sex toys she had. The rabbit looked interesting, and I remember thinking that I’d like to try it at some point. Right then, it looked a bit scary. The other one that got me thinking was the double-ended dildo, which I really liked the idea of ever since I saw the two girls in that porn film fucking with one. It was too big for me right then, but I was already looking forward to using it on Mia one day.

When I had seen everything I wanted, we put the case away. Mum and Henri were both brilliant. They patiently answered every question I threw at them, always treating me like an adult.

“Now then, young lady… since you got me all worked up, I think the least you can do is let me come in that pretty little mouth of yours,” Mum said, then she practically threw me on the bed.

I quickly got into position, then Mum straddled my face. That sweet, familiar scent filled my nostrils as she lowered her cunt to my eager tongue.

“Don’t think you’re getting off that easily,” I heard Henri say to Mum. She stood on the bed with a foot on either side of my head and offered her arse to my mother, who eagerly delved between Henri’s cheeks to  lick her bumhole.

The three of us fucked for at least an hour. Mum was much more demanding of me than she usually was, but in a good way. She had me every way she wanted, whereas normally she lets me do whatever I want. It was a lovely change of pace, letting Mum take charge.

The only other thing of note that happened that weekend took place when Henri went home on Sunday afternoon. As she left, when Mum wasn’t within earshot, she whispered to me, “If I was you, I’d practise with the purple vibe,” then winked. I was planning on using it at some point anyway, but after Henri said what she said, I decided to take my new toy for a test drive that very night.

When Lilly got home, Mum sat her down and explained to her that I was now experimenting with sex toys, then went on to tell my sister that she was too young to use them herself, not until she was a few years older. That made Lilly very upset, like I knew it would, Telling a seven-year-old she can’t play with toys while her big sister can is a very good way to start World War Three. “At least let me try,” was her main argument, but Mum stood firm.

Finally, I spoke up. “Mum? Lilly may be too young to put anything inside her, but could she maybe try using the bullet on her clit? That wouldn’t hurt her, I bet.”

Mum gave me a look, but I suspected that we’d just found our compromise. She thought about it for a moment, then said, “Fine, I suppose… but just a bullet, nothing else.”

Lilly was bouncing in her seat. “Yay! Can I have a go now?”

“Not now,” Mum replied. “But if you’re a good girl, we can try tonight.”

“Erm, how about if Lilly sleeps with you tonight, Mum? Then you can show her how it works, have fun, then  fall asleep right after. I’d like to try my toys on my own tonight.”

“This is going to cost me a small fortune in batteries,” Mum muttered, rolling her eyes.She couldn’t fool me, though – I knew she was already looking forward to being with Lilly.

***

I tried the larger purple dildo that night and was surprised how easily my pussy took it. Mind you, I didn’t go mad with it – just put the end in and played around with it so I could get used to the feel of it inside. After a while I felt confident enough to go deeper, and I ended up getting the toy nearly all the way into my vagina.

It was a lot of fun. I liked the way I felt full and stretched, and how it looked when the dildo was half in and half out. It was an incredibly naughty feeling, even when Mum had given me permission.

***

I was having lunch with Mia on Monday when Beth came over, a dreamy cast to her eyes.

Mia spoke up first. “Hi, Beth! So… how was your weekend?”

“Omigod. It was totally amazing. I’m sooo in love with Kiki.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” I said. Tell us everything!”

“Well, we got to Bath, then checked into this stunning five-star hotel. She told the lady on the desk that I was her daughter!” She giggled.

“Did you have a double bed?”

“Yeah, but it’s a suite, like the best room they have. It’s more like a little apartment but without a kitchen. There are two separate bedrooms and a lounge-type area. Oh my God, the bathroom! It had a huge sunken tub. Here, look…”

Beth got her phone out and showed us the pictures she’d taken of the hotel room and the places they went to in Bath. Clearly, Kiki had spoiled her for the entire weekend. They did a lot of shopping. Beth was wearing a beautiful ring that Kiki bought her and, apparently, she had tons of new clothes, shoes and sexy underwear too. It reminded me that I’d not tried on all the things Kiki had gotten for me. I was waiting for a special occasion, but listening to Beth talk about all her new clothes made me want to wear mine.

Besides the shopping, they ate in the best restaurants, saw a play and visited the Roman Baths. And of course, they had lots and lots of sex. Kiki is as generous with her love as she is with her money, and Beth was being showered with the benefits, an enviable position to be in. It never occurred to us to question a sexual relationship between a twelve-year-old girl and a thirty-four-year-old woman. In our little world, it was simply a natural, beautiful love to be celebrated.

Then I told Mia and Beth all about my weekend, but in comparison to Beth’s holiday of luxury and love, my tales of new toys seemed downright tame. At least that’s what I thought.

A few days later I got home from school, only to be confronted by Mum with, “Have you heard about the ruckus you’ve created, young lady?”

“Me? What have I done?” I was utterly confused. Honestly, I’m a well-behaved girl most of the time.

Mum smiled when she answered me, though, which calmed my anxiety somewhat. “What you may not know is that we adults had a little chat about sex toys and porn at Kiki’s.”

“When Kiki called you all into the kitchen? We wondered what you were talking about.”

“Here’s the thing: all the moms in the Mad Eleven have discussed how and when we should introduce sex toys to you kids. Emma and I were hesitant, but Kiki and Nicole said we should at least consider it. The upshot is that the four of us were trying to work out a plan… then little Miss Poppy announces that she wants sex toys and she wants them now, thank you very much.”

“Oops, sorry!” I say, unable to restrain a nervous giggle.

Mum ruffled my hair. “Don’t be sorry, you’re just being yourself and exploring new things. Keep being you, sweetie, because you’re very special.” Then she kissed me on the forehead. “Anyway, you told Mia and Beth about your toys… and now Beth, Mia and Evie are all up in arms, badgering their mums for vibrators of their own. Then Evie found out Lilly’s been using my bullet vibrator… and that was it, she went mental. It hasn’t helped that Lottie’s got sex toys of her own, and she’d been teasing Mia and Evie about it. So Evie just told her mum that she is on strike, and won’t be doing her chores or homework until she gets to use a bullet like Lilly does.”

“Ah. Erm, yeah, that’s a tough one. Don’t know what to tell you, Mum.”

“Thanks, you’re a great help,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Hee hee, I do my best.”

“Speaking of toys, how are you getting on with that purple dildo?”

“Oooh, I love it. Uh… I do get to keep it, right?”

“Of course. By the way…would you like one of the more realistic-looking ones?”

I had been distracted recently with my new toys and everything that was going on within our Mad Eleven group so I hadn’t picked-up on Mum’s odd questions over the last few days. She kept asking about dildos and what I liked or didn’t like about them. At first I thought she was just being curious and watching out for me, which I’m sure she was. But now I feel there is more to it all and something told me I was about to find out what.

“Erm, no, it’s okay, I’m not interested in the real looking ones.”

“Sweetie, may I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course, Mum. You know you can ask me anything.”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to… but is there any chance that you might want to explore sex with a boy one day?”

That shocked me, and no mistake. “What? I – what the fuck, Mum? NO. Definitely not. I’m a lesbian, Mum, why on earth would I want to…”

Mom hastened to calm me. “It’s okay, calm down! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted you to know that if you were interested in boys that way, it was perfectly okay. I still love you, nothing will ever change that…”

“Mum… Mum, STOP. Listen to me,” I said, then paused to make sure she got the message.

“Thanks for looking out for me,” I continued, then kissed her, “But I’ve got zero interest in boys. This stuff with the dildos is not about me dropping hints. I’m just doing what you told me to do, having fun and exploring. I’m a lesbian and I can’t ever see that changing, but I promise that if I start fancying boys you’ll be the first to know. But so far… urgghh, no thanks.”

She gave me a sheepish grin. “Sorry to be nosy, sweetie. I just want to make sure you don’t close off any avenues that later in life you may regret.”

“Are you talking about kids?”

“Partly. In general, though, I’m trying to encourage you to keep an open mind. I’m so glad you’re happy and confident in your sexuality. It’s a wonderful thing, especially at your age. All right, I promise not to pry any more,” she added, raising one hand as if she was swearing an oath.

I had to laugh. “That’s okay, you can pry. I don’t always understand it sometimes, but I do know that you want what’s best for us. Can I ask you something now?”

“Sure.”

“Is that how it happened for you? I mean, you were a lesbian first, then found out you liked men?”

“No, it was the other way round. Like you, I had sexual urges at a very early age – three or four years old, believe it or not – but it was always boys I was attracted to. The idea of girls never really occurred to me until I started puberty at about eleven. My hormones kicked in, and instead of losing my virginity to a boy in a nice romantic encounter as I’d imagined,  I had fantastic crazy sex with another girl. Shortly after that I had sex with a boy for the first time and it was awful; too quick and he had no idea what he was doing. After that, boys rarely featured in my love life, but I did very occasionally have it off with a man.”

“Like with my father?”

“No. He’s special and very dear to me. He was bisexual back then, and slept with women as often as I slept with men… which was hardly ever. He’s been married to a lovely man for some time now… they live in a cottage in the Cotswolds.”

“I never knew that he was married to a man.”

“There’s lots you don’t know about your father. I could tell you more, if you like.”

Did I want to know more about him? Perhaps the dark silhouette of a random man in my mind was enough for now.

“Um, maybe another time?”

“Okay, sweetie, whenever you’re ready.”

***

I was over the moon when Mum told me that the adults had arranged for the Mad Eleven to meet five times in the next six months. The next full gathering of our little society was to be my birthday. In the meantime, I spent most of my free time with Mia, but we squeezed in a few dirty little orgies here and there.

By then, Beth was practically living at Kiki’s, as was Lottie, who’s relationship with Henri was going from strength to strength. They even talked about going public at school, but thought better of it.

As for Mum, she spent a lot of time with little Evie. It was quite funny, actually – if Mum hadn’t seen Evie for a few days, she would call Nicole and tell her she needed some ‘Evie time’. Nicole would then arrange for Mum to have sex with Evie. Sometimes Mum would have her over for the night.

Us kids were often invited over for some sexy fun with the other adults. For instance, one day Emma told Mum she had an urge to fuck me and Lilly together. We were happy to oblige, and why wouldn’t we be? It was great fun, we were both ecstatic that this gorgeous lady wanted us, and I was always ready for sex with my little sister.

It worked the other way, too. I wanted some time with Nicole and Lottie again, so I asked Mum about it. and the following night they came over and fucked me silly. The littlest ones, Lilly and Evie, were in high demand, but they got what they wanted, too. Lilly wanted to spend a night with Kiki, so Mum arranged a sleepover for them. Of course, Kiki was thrilled to oblige. Lilly came back the next day, bubbling over with the details of her wild time with Kiki and Henri. So it wasn’t like us kids were being loaned out and passed around or anything. We all loved being invited to stay with the others in our group, adults and kids, and we got our wishes granted just as much, probably even more than the adults did.

***

Mia stayed over one Friday and we were going through my drawers when she came across the unopened hold-ups Kiki bought me that day at the mall.

Her eyes lit up. “Wow! You have stockings?”

“Kiki got them for me. I’ve never tried them on, though. I’ve got a couple of thongs, too.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.” I fished through the drawer and found the small lace thongs. One was white, one black.

Flashing me a saucy grin, Mia said, “Shall we try them on?”

It’s funny – when I was in the lingerie shop with Kiki and she bought these things for me, it thrilled me to bits, but I sort of forgot about them afterwards because so much has been happening in my life, especially to do with sex. But Mia’s excitement proved to be contagious, and I couldn’t wait to play dress-up with her.

We stripped off and got into my sexy underthings, then modelled them in the wardrobe mirror and for each other. I fell in love with them straight away. Mia tried the tan hold-ups with the white thong, and I tried the black thong and stockings. Needless to say, we both got very aroused and fell on each other, our mouths meeting in a deep, heated kiss.

Within a minute or two, my cute girlfriend and I were having sex. The feeling of the nylon on our legs as they slid together was delightful. I clutched Mia’s stockinged leg to my chest as I ground my pussy into hers. We didn’t even take the thongs off, just pulled them to the side like we saw the ladies in the porn film do and fucked like crazy.

Soon after, smelling of pussy and with wet patches in our knickers, we paraded in our undies for Mum and Lilly in the living room. They soon forgot about the film, and the four of us ended up naked and spread out on the carpet, enjoying each other.

Adult Dress-Up, as we soon came to call it, played a big part in our sex lives after that, including the fishnets I promised myself I’d save for a special occasion. When Mum saw me in those and nothing else, she instantly undressed and ravished me on the kitchen floor. Afterwards, I told her that I’d really love to have some more sexy lingerie, but she said I’d have to wait until my birthday.

***

One Saturday evening, Mia and I were feeling particularly naughty. We knew Kiki and Henri were at home, and fancied going over to surprise them. The plan we came up with was so outrageous, I didn’t think for one moment Mum would agree… but as I was to learn, it pays to at least ask.

I’d been practising walking around in my heels for a while now and had broken them in nicely. They were now comfy and I didn’t snap my ankle when I walked, which was a bonus. I’d only ever worn them around the house, though, and longed to give them a proper outing. When Mia first saw my heels, she pestered her mother until she got her own pair and we’d been practising wearing them together, much to Mum’s delight. She really liked spreading Mia and me on the kitchen table and going down on us while we were wearing them.

So we came down to see Mum in the kitchen wearing nothing but our heels, hold-ups and thongs. I was in the black one, which was my favourite. I gave my mother a big smile. “Um, Mum?”

She folded her arms. “Why do I get the feeling that you two little vixens are looking for trouble?”

“Well… I don’t think you‘ll go for this, but you always said I could ask. So…you know I want to go out and really try my heels, right?”

“Mmm-hmm?”

“Could Mia and I walk over to visit Kiki and Henri, and maybe spend the night with them?”

“On your own?” She looked out of the window. It was only seven o’clock, but in late October in England, that meant it had been dark out for a couple of hours. I knew the route like the back of my hand. it would take about fifteen minutes, maybe twenty in our heels.

“Yeah, just the two of us. We’ll call you when we get there, so you know we’re safe.”

Mum frowned. “I don’t know, sweetie… perhaps if it was daylight, but…”

“And we’re going like this.”

“You’re what?”

“With our coats on, of course,” I hastened to add.

“But under our coats,” said Mia, “this is what we’ll be wearing. We’ll take them off right before Kiki opens the door. Um, to surprise her.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you’ll certainly do that! I’ve no doubt that Kiki will love this, but I’m not sure about you girls walking there on your own. How about if I drop you off?”

“Mum, the whole point is to go for a walk in our heels.”

“Hmmm. Let me speak to Nicole first, I’m not saying yes without your mum agreeing, Mia.”

When Mum went to use the phone, Mia and I couldn’t stop grinning at each other. We couldn’t believe she was even considering this. Now there was a chance it might actually happen, and we were beside ourselves with excitement.

After a moment, Mum came in and set the phone down on the side. “Well, get your coats on, then.”

“You’re kidding!” I gasped. “Really?”

“I’m not kidding, and you can go. But there are conditions. Make sure you both have your phones on. Go straight there and don’t stop to talk to anyone. If you’ve not called me to say you’re at Kiki’s in thirty minutes, I’m coming looking for you. If I’ve not heard from you in forty-five minutes, I’m calling the police. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“Thank you, Heather!” Mia exclaimed.

“You’re welcome. Have fun, then! Oh, and Poppy… I want a detailed account of what happens when you get back tomorrow”

Wrapped up in our coats and scarves, we each gave Mum a hot tongue kiss, then set off, the pair of us clip-clopping down the road in our heels. Mum took a picture of us as we left.

God, it felt good to be out with no adults, dressed like this. We looked like a pair of underage hookers, but strutted down the road like we owned it. The cold crept under our coats, reminding us constantly of our lack of clothing underneath, but that did nothing to dim our spirits – or our growing arousal.

As it happened, we saw only two people: a man walking a dog some ways off in the distance, and a woman with a young boy of about seven. She gave us the strangest look, then I nodded and said, “Good evening,”

“Good evening,” she politely replied. When they were out of earshot, Mia and I burst out laughing. What that woman must have thought about seeing a pair of preteen girls in heels and nylons out on their own in the dark like that, I’ll never know.

We were starting to really feel the cold after a few minutes, as well as needing to pee, so Mia and I picked up the pace for the last stretch of our little journey. When we got to Kiki’s, I gave Mum a quick ring to let her know we’d made it there safely, while Mia keyed in the four-digit code for the gate. We got to the front door and rang the bell, which was sure to confuse Kiki and Henri, as they hadn’t buzzed anyone through the gate. Mia and I dropped our coats and scarves on the ground and stood shivering at the door in stockings, heels and thongs. Thankfully, Kiki opened the door quickly, Henri right behind.

Needless to say, she was delighted. “Oh, my stars! You little devils! What are you doing here?”

“We thought we’d surprise you!” Mia cried.

“You certainly did that,” said Henri. “Now come inside, before you freeze to death,”

Kiki bundled us indoors. We got big hugs from her and Henri. I was eager to have fun. But right then, there was another urgent need to deal with.

“Erm, sorry Kiki, but we’re desperate for the loo…” I told her.

She clasped both hands together as if in prayer. “Oh, my… God must truly love me, for she has delivered me two half-naked little beauties with full bladders. Come along, my darlings – we mustn’t waste such an opportunity.”

As we followed her toward the bathroom Kiki said, “Hen, darling, would you be a dear and grab my small vibe?”

“Sure, but erm… I’ll help you with that if you like.”

Pausing in mid-step, Kiki asked her daughter, “Are you sure, darling?”

Henri nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

Henri was not into watersports – not on the receiving end, anyway. She was happy to pee on someone though, especially her mother. But offering to bring Kiki off herself would put Henri in the firing line. This lovely offer she was making for her mother was not lost on me. I think Henri realised this was one of those rare opportunities that pop up now and again, and wanted to be involved. Then again, maybe it was just a love offering to her mother

While Kiki and Henri stripped down, Mia and I finished undressing. I had no intention of getting pee on my best shoes! Once everyone was naked, we laid Kiki down on the bathroom floor. This particular loo is what Kiki calls the Wet Room. It’s designed like the huge gym shower at school, tiled from floor to ceiling, with a drain in the room’s centre. You could get up to just about anything there, then wash away the evidence. And the room has underfloor heating, so the tiles are kept nice and warm.

With Kiki spread out on the floor, Henri knelt down and began to lick her mum’s pussy. “All right, girls,” Kiki told Mia and me, “just let go whenever you’re ready to. Don’t be afraid to soak me completely.” I stood above her head, while Mia was facing me astride Kiki’s belly.

It took a minute or so for us to start peeing. I held mine back until Mia let go. My stream went further forward than I thought, some of it splashing on Mia and Henri, so I moved back a step and squatted over Kiki’s face. Her mouth was open and searching for the stream, gulping down as much as she could. Mia was moving her hips back and forth over Kiki’s body, bathing her as well as she could.

Henri was getting quite a lot of crossfire while she went down on her mum, but she refused to stop until Kiki came so hard that she screamed. Kiki usually isn’t very loud when she climaxes, and it was the first time I’d ever seen such a visceral reaction from her.

Before long we were done peeing, but Kiki’s orgasm seemed to go on for ages. So Mia and I rubbed our cunts all over her body, and I got her to lick me while Henri ate her until she came again. Kiki was so shagged out afterward that we practically had to carry her into the shower.

We got ourselves cleaned up, then Mia and I got back into our undies and stockings. (We wanted to make the most of them that night.) The four of us went to the kitchen to relax for a bit with drinks and snacks, then Mia and I was rewarded for our surprise visit with a night of incredible sex. We got to see Henri and Kiki use the double-ended dildo on each other as a special treat. It was way too big for Mia or me to take, but we borrowed some of Kiki’s other toys to pleasure ourselves with while we watched mum and daughter fuck. It was a wonderful night.

Two days later Mia and I each got a huge bouquet of flowers, delivered to us at our homes with thank-you cards. That was Kiki and Henri all over – thoughtful, generous and loving.

After that first get-together of the Mad Eleven, encounters like these kept the mood going as we drew closer and closer to my birthday. Each week my friends – or lovers, if you like – were all buzzing about some new and exciting idea that had come up in the planning of my party. No one wanted to tease me, so for my sake there wasn’t much chit-chat about it when I was around.

A week before the party, all I knew was that I needed to be up, dressed and ready to go by 10 AM. To make matters worse, Mum had asked me not to have sex or masturbate for three days before the big day. Okay, she didn’t actually order me to not have an orgasm during that time, but she said that going hungry before a big meal always makes it taste better. Then Mum said that she wouldn’t be allowing herself to come, either. That was enough to convince me, but gosh, it was a lot harder than I expected. Who knew that sex could be so addictive?

On to Chapter Eighteen!

A savory offering from a new author. Be sure to leave a comment if you enjoy it, and perhaps he’ll give us another. Welcome aboard, Christoff! — JetBoy

by Christoff

It wasn’t what I’d wanted, being stuck at home — especially my mum’s home. When I planned out what to do after finishing my teaching degree, it was all about travel. New countries, distant beaches, interesting people and all sorts of thrilling possibilities. Yet, there I was, in Mum’s front room, cursing the pandemic and feeling sorry for myself.

Things had eased up a bit since the beginning of the lockdown, but foreign travel was still definitely off the agenda — at least the way that I wanted to do it, taking in as many countries as I could afford. It had been too late to apply for any teaching jobs for September, so I’d have to keep an eye out for January. Most likely, it would be almost a year until there was much for me to choose from.

I could tell I was getting on Mum’s nerves, but being the saint that she is, she hid it well. I still felt guilty, though. I mean, here I was, a young woman of twenty-one, living at home with no social life to speak of. To be honest, I think I was cramping her style!

One afternoon, Mum came into the front room and sat down next to me. I braced for the heart-to-heart talk that I assumed was about to take place. Bless her, she meant well, but there was only so many of those I could take.

As it turned out, that wasn’t what she wanted at all.

“I was just talking to Carol next door,” she said. “As her Hannah is homeschooling while the schools are closed, she was wondering if you wouldn’t mind helping her out with a spot of tutoring.”

I knew that Carol worked full time, and it takes the most dedicated of children to work effectively under their own steam. There were going to be a lot of kids with serious catching up to do, once the schools reopened.

“What kind of help does Hannah need?” I asked.

“Just keep her focused and on task, I think,” Mum replied. “Her school is sending out all the work each day, so she just needs a bit of direction. Oh, and Carol said she’d pay you. Won’t be much, I shouldn’t think, but better than nothing.”

I mulled it over. To be honest, I didn’t really remember Hannah, not having seen her since finishing Uni. In fact, the last time I saw her properly was probably a year ago, and that memory was hazy at best. Still, I didn’t have anything better to do with my time.

“Yeah, okay, why not. Tell her I’m game. Shall we say tomorrow morning at nine?”

“Okay, perfect,” Mum replied. “I’ll let Carol know.”

Next morning, I rang the bell next door and was greeted by a smiling Carol.

“Thank you so much for this, Emily. You really are a life saver. Hannah’s a great kid, she just needs to be kept on track with her school work. She’s looking forward to working with you.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” I replied. “Where is Hannah?”

“She’s just getting ready; be down in a minute. I’ve got to dash, so set yourself up at the kitchen table.” She snatched up her purse and car keys. “Okay, then, I’ll catch you later. Thanks again, I’m really grateful!”

“No problem. Don’t work too hard.”

After the front door closed, I made my way to the kitchen and sat down at the large pine table. I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I was a little nervous as Hannah came down the stairs. “Hi,” I heard her say, and turned to greet her.

When I opened my mouth to reply, the words nearly stuck in my throat.

As I said, I hadn’t seen Hannah for quite a while, but the girl I saw before me wasn’t at all what I’d expected. Somehow I had it in my head that she was still a skinny little eight-year-old, all gap-toothed smile and knobbly knees. In the back of my mind, I remembered Mum saying she was a couple of months short of her thirteenth birthday, but it obviously hadn’t registered.

The Hannah now standing before me was about 5’6″, slim and firm with wavy blonde hair just below shoulder length, flashing me a dazzling smile — no space between those perfect teeth. She was dressed, to my surprise, in her school uniform. White shirt and tie, a black pencil skirt to mid-thigh and black ankle socks.

After what seemed like an age I managed to stammer out a “Hi,” and she came over to the table and sat next to me.

“Thanks for doing this,” she said. “It’s really nice of you.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied before adding, “Can I just ask… why are you wearing the school uniform at home?”

She shrugged. “Oh, it just helps me focus, so there’s not so much of a difference between doing school work and being at home. The school suggested it, actually.” She grinned. “Also, I figured as long as you were going to be tutoring me, I ought to dress the part.”

I was suddenly aware that my mouth was dry and it felt like I was staring, so I made an excuse to fetch us both some water before we got started. As I took the pitcher from the refrigerator and filled the glasses, my mind drifted back ten years to my first year at secondary school when the nagging feeling of being different cemented itself in me. When being around all those girls at various stages of development made it clear to me that I was gay.

All the pubescent crushes, the disappointments and occasional joys came rushing back as I brought our glasses to the table and handed one to this twelve-year-old beauty before me. She smiled, and I felt quite lightheaded, thinking, It’s going to be a very long, very distracting couple of weeks.

As the day progressed, it became clear that Hannah was actually pretty self-sufficient, and I began to wonder whether her mum’s concerns were more reflective of her own anxieties than Hannah’s. Her school was assigning her some very challenging work, but she seemed to have it well in hand. My role seemed to be limited to keeping her from getting distracted, providing refreshments and occasionally helping out with some of the particularly tough stuff.

This allowed me ample time to drink in the view of this stunning young girl. I realised pretty quickly that she had a quality that truly set her apart. I’d spent plenty of time with girls her age while working towards my degree, but none were quite like her. Everything about Hannah was an intoxicating combination of innocence and maturity. Though not quite a woman, somehow it seemed like she’d been one for years.

Physically she was slight, yet shapely, and her face was girlish but beautiful. The angle she was sitting at in relation to me meant that I could see pretty much all of her – and each time she shifted position, her skirt rode up just a tantalising few millimetres to reveal a little more of her slim, elegant legs.

I assumed Hannah was so engrossed in her work that she hadn’t noticed my wandering eyes, but not long before we finished for the day, there was the briefest moment of recognition. Looking back on it now, I think it was the turning point. It lasted a couple of seconds at most, but from then on everything between us was different.

It happened when Hannah moved in her chair like before – only this time, her skirt rode up further than it had thus far, enough to give me a glimpse of her baby blue panties. I nearly gasped out loud, but managed to choke it back. I did make a sound, though, and that caused her to glance up at me.

She reached down instinctively to readjust her skirt, then paused when she noticed where my eyes had been. I’d looked away as quickly as I could, but she knew. She knew. I could feel my cheeks get hot at the realisation that the little girl next door had just sussed that I’d been checking her out.

And then something completely unexpected happened. She gave the briefest of smiles and got back to her work, leaving her skirt exactly as it was.

I was at a complete loss, didn’t know how to respond. Could Hannah be making fun of me? Was she trying to tease? Or… did she honestly want me to see her knickers?

At any rate, I felt as if I’d given too much of myself away to this girl… so I kept my eyes up, looking anywhere but between her legs. If this was some sort of prank on Hannah’s part, I wouldn’t get caught up in it.

Not long after that, we finished with the day’s work. After I’d gone through what we’d covered, I packed up my shoulder bag and told Hannah, “Okay, then – I’ll be back tomorrow morning.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said just before letting me out, then smiled as she closed the door behind me.

“Bloody hell,” I whispered. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I made my way back next door, to home and safety.

That night, I brought myself to orgasm three times before drifting into a hazy slumber.

***

The next morning, I approached Hannah’s house, feeling a mixture of apprehension and excitement. Hannah’s mum had phoned the previous evening to thank me again for helping her out. She also said that her daughter seemed really happy with the arrangement and, because of that, Carol was going to return to normal working hours, which meant I wouldn’t be seeing her in the mornings.

I wasn’t sure how to feel about this new development. Perhaps I was subconsciously hoping that seeing her mum every day might snap me out.of the spell that Hannah seemed to be working on me. I hadn’t slept brilliantly the night before, with all sorts of thoughts and longings buzzing around my head, many of them inappropriate at best.

Despite all the contradictory feelings I was wrestling with, I decided to dress differently that day. Instead of the jeans and t-shirt I’d worn for our first session, I went for a skirt and a fitted jumper with formal shoes. If I was going to be her teacher, I ought to look more like one. That’s what I told myself, anyhow.

Hannah opened the door and, before even greeting me, said, “Wow, Emily, you look amazing today!”

“You mean I looked terrible yesterday?” I replied.

“Ha, ha, no,” she laughed. “You’d look amazing in anything.”

“Oh, erm, thanks, I’m sure you would too,” I almost stammered. I could feel a reddening in my cheeks. Fucking hell, I scolded myself, could you possibly be any more lame?

She gave me that little smile again and turned towards the kitchen. As I closed the door and followed, I realised that whilst she was still wearing her school uniform, she’d switched skirts. This one was somewhat shorter than yesterday’s. I couldn’t help but think, There’s absolutely no way she could wear that to school. Which could mean only one thing… she’d worn it for me.

As Hannah led me to the kitchen I couldn’t help but study her figure. Her bottom was perfect, and those legs… oh my, those legs. The sight took me back to an occasional girlfriend I’d had at university. I’d called round to see her one evening, and she too had worn a skirt as short as Hannahs. On that occasion, I hadn’t let her get as far as a couple of metres before pressing up behind and reaching round to run my hands up the front of the skirt, one hand delving into her knickers. She had been twenty and Hannah was twelve, but I was fighting a powerful urge to do the same. Luckily the corridor was short, and we reached the kitchen before I could lose control.

We resumed our places from yesterday, but I quickly noticed a subtle change. Hannah had changed the angle of her chair. Now she was directly facing me, and nothing of her was hidden by the table. She was also sitting slightly differently, more openly. It was going to be almost impossible for me to peek under that sexy skirt without her noticing.

An exciting thought popped into my head… was she inviting me to look?

Hannah got started on her schoolwork with me carrying on in my support role, but it was hard to concentrate on anything beyond the intoxicating twelve-year-old seated in front of me. Just like yesterday, her skirt rode up a little each time she shifted in her chair. And because her skirt was so short to begin with, I was getting a good look at the inside of Hannah’s thighs. I wanted to fall to my knees before her, press my lips to that unimaginable softness.

About midway through the morning, Hannah was obviously feeling a little uncomfortable from sitting on a hard kitchen chair and leaned back, stretching her arms and legs. That caused her skirt to ride up high enough to reveal everything. The very tops of her firm thighs and, in between, the tight white fabric of her knickers. I was transfixed by the sight, my mouth hanging open. I slowly dragged my eyes away from Hannah’s crotch and up to her face, only to find her smiling.

“I love the way you look at me,” she said, her voice almost a whisper.

As Hannah spoke she reached down and tugged the skirt up and over her hips, raising herself up from the chair as she did so and spreading her legs. Now she was completely on display.

The knickers she wore summed her up completely. Plain white and cotton, the kind you’d expect a girl of twelve to wear, but trimmed with a subtle lace pattern around the top. They were snug enough to show the outline of her labia beneath.

I felt myself mouthing the words, “Oh my God.”

Nervously licking my lips, I raised my head again to meet Hannah’s amused gaze.

She smiled again, cocked her head slowly to one side and murmured, “Well, you’ve seen mine…”

I could scarcely breathe. Even this far down the rabbit hole, what was left of my rational side was screaming at me that this was a bad idea that could go wrong in at least a dozen different ways. But my rationality was fast evaporating, as if I was being driven by some outside force.

Slowly lifting myself a few centimetres from the chair, I grasped the hem of my skirt. As I slowly hoisted it up, I noted with no small satisfaction that it was Hannah’s turn to be transfixed by what she saw. Underneath the skirt, I wore a black thong. Not overtly sexy as such, but certainly skimpier than what Hannah was wearing and sheer enough to expose my pussy.

Hannah scooted her chair towards me, close enough for her to slide her left knee between mine. Slowly extending a hand, she rested it on my left thigh, then began to slide it upward, never breaking her gaze, looking me intently in the eye. Once she’d reached the top of my thigh, she hesitated, perhaps feeling a bit unsure of herself.

Sensing she needed some encouragement, I reached up to stroke Hannah’s cheek, then gently guided her towards me until our lips brushed. It was the briefest of kisses if it could be called one at all, but it seemed to rejuvenate her, and she moved her hand to the front of my thong.

I couldn’t help but let out a small gasp, and Hannah flashed her killer smile, her confidence renewed. As she pressed her hand against my vulva, I leaned in and this time, as we drew together, I opened my mouth slightly and traced her lower lip with the tip of my tongue. She was quick to take the hint, and soon our tongues were mingling deliciously, caught up in a sexy dance. Hannah began to stroke me through the thin material of my thong.

The kiss was so intense, it was inevitable that we’d have to break to catch our breath. As our eyes met again, my underage lover removed her hand and stood up. Reaching for my hands, she grasped them in hers and pulled me to my feet.

“Come on,” she said and started for the stairs.

I meekly followed, but once we reached the top I stopped, then turned Hannah to face me. “Are you sure about this?” I said.

That smile again – then she pulled me into her room.

In the back of my mind, I was acutely aware that I was in the bedroom of a twelve-year-old girl, and this was only going to end in one way, with the two of us in bed together, having lesbian sex. I suppose that realisation should have sent me running for the hills, but this was no ordinary girl of twelve. She had more allure than any person I’d ever met, let alone ever slept with. She was utterly irresistible. More than that, she knew what she wanted and was determined to have it. The idea of refusing her didn’t even seem like an option.

Feeling a sudden wave of lust, I took Hannah in my arms, claiming her mouth in a kiss. Once again, we two were locked in an all-encompassing embrace – tongues mingling, our hands beginning to roam, a heat building between my thighs that had to be dealt with. I eased her towards the bed until, sensing where she was, she let herself fall back onto it, her legs spread wide.

Lying down alongside, I nuzzled her neck whilst reaching over to start unbuttoning her school shirt. Once I’d released two or three buttons, I was able to reach in and cup Hannah’s breast. It felt perfect to me, no bigger than my hand but firm and perky, the nipple stiffening to my touch.

I swung a leg over Hannah to straddle her, then ran both hands up her torso until I reached her bra. It was white and lace-trimmed, clearly matching her knickers. Gently tugging it up to bare her budding breasts, I bent down to take a nipple into my mouth, gently sucking to make it stiffen. I shifted from the left breast to the right and back again, lightly biting each one in turn. Glancing up at Hannah’s face, I saw her eyes closed and her mouth open, the girl’s face radiant with happiness.

Eager to sample more of her delights, I drifted downward, kissing a path across her tummy, stopping just briefly to tease her navel with a flick of tongue while I reached down to lift her skirt up above her knickers. Hannah was struggling out of her bra, which she tugged out from beneath her shirt and threw to one side.

I traced a line of butterfly kisses up one thigh and then, passing over her sodden knickers, I kissed my way up the other. But I couldn’t wait any longer and, pulling the gusset to one side with my fingers, I drew my tongue from the bottom of her beautiful wet cleft, up through her labia, across the opening to her vagina, then gave her clit a playful lick. She let out the most sensual moan I’d ever heard, earthy and passionate.

Kneeling up, I grasped the waistband of Hannah’s knickers, then pulled them down and off. I sat back, taking a moment to savour the view. Her school shirt was wide open to reveal small but perfect breasts, her school tie nestled between them. The skirt was bunched up around her waist, leaving her naked from the waist down apart from coal-black ankle socks. I couldn’t imagine a more erotic sight.

This time, I started my kisses just above Hannah’s knee, leaving a line of them up her inner thigh with an occasional lick to excite her. I loved the smell, the softness, the slightly salty flavour of her skin. Looking up, I saw that Hannah had raised herself onto her elbows in order to watch me. Her face was a picture of lust and passion, a sight that spurred my own desire higher until there was nothing I could do but return to her sweet young pussy. She had a truly lovely sex, topped by the merest blush of soft blonde down.

I’d intended to take my time making love to Hannah, but the sheer eroticism of the situation was doing my head in – I had to have her now.

Bringing a finger up to gently explore Hannah’s vaginal opening, I began to tease her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Within seconds, she was rocking her head back and forth, her breath gone ragged and shallow. I knew she was close, and sensed that she did, too. Hannah was clutching at the covers and arching her back, raising that cute bum up from the bed.

Determined that Hannah’s orgasm was going to be one for the record books, I took her clit between my lips to suck, meanwhile inching my finger into what proved to be a very snug vagina. I only managed to insert the tip, but it was enough to send my twelve-year-old lover over the edge.

Those powerful thighs clamped the sides of my head as Hanneh cried, “Oh… oh, God!” Her ecstasy seemed to go on forever but probably lasted less than a minute before she went limp as a dishrag.

I crawled up to stretch out next to her. I wanted a kiss but held back, knowing that my lips and chin were coated with her juices. With an older partner, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but I didn’t know about how a girl of twelve would feel about tasting her own pussy. I needn’t have worried, though – as soon as Hannah opened her eyes, she crushed her mouth to mine in a fierce tongue kiss. Finally breaking away, she lay back, sampling the flavour from her lips.

Finally sated, she whispered, “I’ve never felt anything so good. Is that what sex is always like?”

“With the right person, yeah,” I replied.

She kissed me again, but this time Hannah reached down to grab the bottom of my jumper. Pulling it up and over my head, she gasped as she realised that I wasn’t wearing a bra. My boobs were barely bigger than hers, and she immediately drew a moan from me by cupping them, running her thumbs over my nipples.

Clumsily getting herself into a kneeling position, she shoved me back onto the bed and bent down to kiss my breasts, sealing her mouth over each nipple in turn. I could feel her tie dragging over my belly, a reminder if I needed one that this was a schoolgirl making me squirm and gasp. Her hand trailed down my side to find the zip on my skirt, pulling it down with a single tug. Lifting her mouth from my breast, she nuzzled my stomach as she wriggled the skirt down my legs and off, leaving me in my thong.

Hannah was possessed by a fierce passion that seemed out of character for a girl so young. She sought out my pussy without a moment’s hesitation, sucking at it through the soaked material of my underwear. Hooking her finger under the edge of the thong, she yanked it to one side, then fastened her sweet lips to my clit to suck for a few divine seconds. I cried out, already on the edge of release. But she immediately changed tactics, running her tongue down through my labia to the vaginal opening, then back to my clit.

I was positively gobsmacked. Hannah might’ve been a mere girl of twelve, but she seemed to instinctively know how to pleasure a woman. I’d had my share of female lovers while at university, but none of them went down on me with the enthusiasm that she brought to it.

Lifting her hand from my hip, she brought a finger into play, placing it at the entrance of my cunt to replace her tongue. With the briefest of glimpses up at me, she slid that finger inside with one steady stroke. That was enough to send all the sexual tension of the last twenty-four hours raging through me like an earthquake.

I came like an animal in heat. Hannah kept her lips locked to my clit as I bucked and gasped until the waves of ecstasy finally abated.

She crept her way back up my body and kissed me passionately, allowing me to taste my juices on her tongue and lips.

I was still overwhelmed with an intense hunger for my twelve-year-old lover, and she gave me a quizzical look as I put both hands on her waist and urged her to move further up the bed. “Trust me,” I breathed as I guided her into the position I wanted. Hannah inched her way forward, clearly wondering what I was up to, but as her knees came to rest on either side of my head, the penny seemed to drop, and she eagerly lowered her pussy to my mouth, her thighs brushing my ears.

I looked up, marvelling at this wondrous vision. Hannah’s school shirt was wide open, the tie still in place, that cute skirt still bunched around her waist as she offered her cunt to me. The sight fired my lust like never before, drove me to new heights of passion.

I pressed my mouth to Hannah’s slit in a lover’s kiss, thrusting my tongue deep into her and rolling it around. Determined to make her orgasm one for the record books, I used my thumb to tease the nub of Hannah’s clit while I went down on her. She responded just as I’d hoped, her head lolling back, lips parting for a moan to escape.

There was one more trick in my bag. With my left hand, I reached around to fondle my young lover’s pert, beautiful bottom. Finding the cleft between her buttocks, I trailed a finger through it, finally resting the tip against Hannah’s tight, puckered hole. I gently pressed my way inside, glancing up to see her eyes widen in surprise.

I continued to tongue-fuck her vagina, my right hand still working her clit as my middle finger entered Hannah’s rectum in one slow, steady stroke.

“Oh, God! Hannah cried. I’m – I’m…”

She didn’t finish that sentence. Instead, she reached down to clutch my head, her fingernails biting into me as she came. I’d never seen a lover so lost in ecstasy, before or since. It wasn’t enough to make me stop, though – I kept making love to Hannah until she gasped, “Stop, I c-can’t… no more, please!”

I withdrew, and she flopped sideways onto the bed, completely spent. We lay quietly for a few minutes, her arm draped across my body, our breathing taking a little time to return to normal.

Finally, Hannah propped herself up on one elbow and looked at me. “Wow,” she said.

“Wow indeed,” I replied, fanning myself.

“I could really do with some water,” she said. “You?”

I nodded; she rolled off the bed and onto her feet. She unzipped and removed her skirt, then pulled off her tie and shrugged the unbuttoned shirt from her shoulders to the floor. I studied her lithe young body as she padded from the room, completely naked apart from her ankle socks. Her flawless bottom moved gracefully, almost inviting me to follow. I was too wiped out to move, though.

She returned a couple of minutes later, a bottle of water in each hand. This time I was able to admire her from the front. Hannah’s delicately featured face, freckled and fresh, was still slightly flushed as she smiled at me.

My God, she was perfect. Those small but perfect breasts, still sporting erect nipples, her barely-there blonde pubes, which did nothing to conceal that beautiful pussy I’d just been intimate with. And those lithe, lovely legs… seriously, Hannah was a girl lover’s wet dream.

She joined me on the bed, and we slaked our thirst with the ice-cold water. Hannah pressed her bare body against mine as we cuddled, kissing my neck. I couldn’t have been happier.

After a few minutes, a thought I’d had earlier bounced back into my head.

“Hannah,” I asked, “how long until the end of term?”

“Four weeks,” she replied with a smile.

I smiled back. After all, we both knew that she would also have a lot of catching up to do after the summer holidays…

The End

Note from JetBoy: This is a new and extended version of a story posted here over a year ago. It got a mostly rapturous response, and deservedly so… though a goodly percentage of the readers openly wished for more, just as a fine meal sometimes leaves you wishing you’d had a larger portion. Well, author and Site Friend Jacqueline Jillinghoff elected to give her hungry public what it clamored for, and reworked her tale into this luscious expanded edition. Your Chief Editor was so delighted with the result that an executive decision was made to present this as a brand-new post, instead of simply swapping one version for another.
So don’t pass this one by, even if you’ve read it before. “Floor Show,” was well worth investigating the first time around, and it’s even better now.

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

“Mom, this is Kimberly.”

“So this is Kimberly. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” the little girl said, offering her fingers for a squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The words sounded rehearsed, but she played the part well, speaking distinctly and looking me in the eye. I half-expected her to curtsey, and when that didn’t happen, I said, “You don’t need to be so formal. Please call me Vickie.”

“Thank you … Vickie.”

I hadn’t liked being called ma’am — I’m only twenty-eight — but I wasn’t sure about “Vickie,” either. It created a strange imbalance. It wasn’t that she was being overly familiar. It was that, strangely, I felt I was the one who was being forward, putting myself on a first-name basis with such a beautiful little girl.

And it was eerie, how beautiful she was. Her face was too mature-looking, as though some mad scientist had grafted the head of a nineteen-year-old onto the body of a skinny fifth-grader. She had a wide mouth, a broad forehead, and deep-set brown eyes that bored into me from under a pair of long, dark brows. Her hair was short and thick, like a skirt around her neck, held in place by a white headband embossed with three lace blossoms.

I made myself glance away before she caught me staring.

“Billie’s told me a lot about you,” I said.

In fact, my daughter had spoken of nothing but her new friend for weeks. I’d heard all about how cool and smart Kimberly was, how she played piano and oboe and her mother sang opera and they’d lived all over and even in Europe for a year and on and on. She was my daughter’s first big-girl crush, and here she was, making a personal appearance in our home. Billie had made it clear, well in advance, that I was to treat her like royalty.

What I found, though, beyond the unsettling good looks, was an ordinary kid who didn’t have much to say. Her answers to my questions, like that first greeting, sounded like she’d memorized them, or repeated them so often that they no longer interested her, and they never went beyond a few words. I couldn’t make up my mind whether she was hostile, empty-headed, or just shy.

I asked her where she had lived in Europe.

Brussels, she said.

Did she like it?

It was okay.

Did she learn any French?

A little.

Does she play piano in recital?

Sometimes.

Has she joined the band at school?

Not yet. But her mom wanted her to.

Why the oboe?

Her dad used to play it.

There it was. Used to. Past tense. So her father was out of her life, like Billie’s. They had that in common, at least.

These girls were inseparable. Literally. Billie leaned into Kimberly all through dinner, reaching for her hand under the table and swinging her leg, seeking Kimberly’s stockinged foot with her own. Kimberly didn’t encourage her, but she didn’t pull away, either. She simply accepted the attention as her due.

When the dishes were done, and we were playing Scrabble on the living room floor, the girls sat shoulder to shoulder. I told them to spread out, so they couldn’t see each other’s tiles, but after only a few moments apart, they would knock together again, like rowboats moored at a dock.

We were already dressed for bed. Billie sat cross-legged in her brief yellow nightie, which rode up her thighs, revealing the stark white crotch of her panties. My daughter’s a cute, freckle-faced kid with a gap-toothed smile, pale blue eyes, and a bob of fine, wheat-colored hair. What makes her my darling, though, is her outgoing nature. She laughed and chattered as we played, making up silly words entirely out of consonants (No, sweetie, “flsznk” is not in the dictionary) before she played for real.

Kimberly hardly spoke. Every so often, the corners of her mouth would draw back into a kind of vacant grin at something Billie said, but they reset at once as she studied the board, her chin on her knees. She certainly looked like visiting royalty, crowned with her white-lace blossoms and draped in an Old-World gown of shimmering green that hid everything but her toes.

I remember thinking, My daughter is in love with this girl — but only as much as one little girl could be in love with another. It was an innocent infatuation, and apparently one-sided. The notion that it might be anything more would have to be forced on me.

The game broke up when Billie got a triple word score and fifty bonus points for “pissing,” and a hail of giggles broke out. Kimberly finally caught the bug, showing her teeth (perfect, of course) for the first time. She threw an arm around Billie’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek — quickly, as though she was afraid I’d notice. Billie blushed to the ears, the brown freckles on her nose turning white, but she clasped Kimberly in both arms and returned the kiss.

“All right,” I said. “Time for bed. Billie’s the champ. I don’t think we’re going to catch her.”

Kimberly stood up, and it seemed the evening had truly come to an end when her toes disappeared beneath the gown.

“May I use your bathroom?” she asked.

“Of course you may.”

While she was off brushing and peeing, Billie and I put the game away and picked up the snack bowls and glasses. The girls had been drinking orange soda. I’d had some chilled pinot grigio. Maybe it was the wine, but the surge of affection for my daughter was genuine. I grabbed her impulsively and held her to my breasts.

“It’s so sweet, what you’re doing,” I said.

“What?”

“That poor girl doesn’t have any friends, does she?”

“She doesn’t talk to anybody.”

“Well, it’s wonderful you’re reaching out to her. You’re a special person, and I love you.”

“Mo-om!”

“Oh, stop. Let me kiss you.”

Billie and I live in a one-bedroom apartment, which is all I can afford at the moment. She sleeps on the fold-out in the living room, or with me when we’re too tired to pull out the bed. Tonight there was no discussion: Billie went straight for the sofa, tearing at the cushions with a will. She and her guest would share the convertible, and Mom would discreetly get lost.

Kimberly helped lay out the covers and arrange the pillows. Her regal bearing had returned, her moment of hilarity forgotten. She moved slowly, and sometimes, when she turned or leaned over, the contours of her thighs or her bottom rose briefly beneath the surface of her gown.

When I left them, they were lying on opposite sides of the bed, like twin effigies, with the sheets tight across their chests and their hands folded modestly over their hearts.

“Good night now,” I said.

I kissed Billie on the forehead and, still sorry for Kimberly, and worried she might be feeling left out, I circled the bed and kissed her, too. I expected her to pull away, or at least lie there passively, the way kids do when they’re subjected to unwanted attention. After all, I was a stranger who had no business tucking her in, but to my surprise, she shot up from the pillow and kissed me hard on the corner of the mouth, clutching the back of my neck. The move was so abrupt it felt desperate.

“Thank you for letting me stay over,” she said.

“Oh, honey, you’re welcome. We’re happy to have you.”

“’Night, Mom.”

“Good night, Vickie.”

“Sleep well, you two,” I said. “Don’t stay up too late talking.”

That last was a vain formality. The whole point of a sleepover is for little girls to laugh and gossip long after the lights go out, and I expected they’d keep me up for a while.

To say I wasn’t disappointed would be, well, an understatement.

The chatter began as soon as I lay down in my room. Billie’s voice came through strongly, though I couldn’t make out the words. Kimberly’s was no more than a sporadic murmur. Billie laughed out loud. There was a distinct shhh, followed by a rushed sentence that contained the words “your mom.” Kimberly whispered something, and I heard Billie say No! emphatically, and then, Really?

The whispers went on, punctuated with giggling and shushing, and each time I made out Kimberly’s voice, the image of her toes appeared to me in the dark. Ten pretty toes, peeping from beneath the green gown in a perfect curve, like pearls on a lace fan. Absently, I slipped a hand into my pajamas. And I saw the double cabochon of her ass, pressing up beneath the jade-colored satin. Ah.

My pajama bottoms had to come off, or they’d get soggy and stick to me all night. I unbuttoned my top, too, to give my nipples some standing room. Then I listened again for the hushed voices. They seemed fainter, but the words were clearer — words like please and how and want to — or maybe I was only imagining them, the way I imagined Kimberly’s sensuous mouth. Oh. And the joyous kiss she gave my daughter. Oh! And the imploring kiss she’d given me …

Fuck.

The orgasm balled me up tight, then ratcheted me down an inch at a time. It was a quiet one — it would have to be, under the circumstances — but I couldn’t remember the last time a climax had soaked so deeply into my bones. I lay there warm and weak, a puddle of post-masturbatory languor.

But once my head cleared, I had to wonder why. I had never come thinking of a girl so young. My fantasy women had always been age-appropriate. Something about this child, though — her stunning face, her sadness, or maybe just her pretty toes — had touched me. Unfortunate word choice, but there’s no other way to say it.

Of course, I could never betray my daughter. Kimberly was Billie’s special friend, not mine. Still, there was no harm in fantasy, was there? I could picture her a little longer while I tugged on my nipples and squeezed my clit between my fingers.

I was preoccupied, to say the least, and only gradually began to suspect something was off. I stopped teasing myself and listened in the dark. The girls were quiet enough in there — but that was just it. They were quiet. Were they asleep already? It hadn’t taken me that long to come. Billie had been so giddy when she went to bed, it was hard to believe she’d settled down so soon. Maybe Kimberly’s self-restraint was rubbing off on her.

I kept an ear out for any small sound, and finally I heard one — the sofa-bed creaked. Then nothing. Okay, I thought, they’ve called it a night. Now I wouldn’t have to work so hard to muffle my orgasms, and I was sure there’d be at least one more. With my pussy simmering under my fingers, it would be no time at all before —

“Huh!”

The cry came from the living room. It was Billie. She sounded hurt. Kimberly went shhhh, and Billie said something back. Now she sounded fine. Probably went to the kitchen and stubbed her toe on the way back. No use playing mother hen and embarrassing her, and besides, my pussy still needed attention. I circled my clit, raising a soft scratching sound from my pubes, and let out a contented sigh.

Except that I didn’t. The sigh wasn’t mine. It had come from the living room. My hand froze, and I tensed up, straining to listen. There it was again — it sounded like Kimberly. She hummed a little, too, as though she was sampling a yummy dessert.

The girls’ voices rose. They shushed each other and went on quietly. The bed squeaked again — not once, but repeatedly — and I distinctly heard Kimberly say, in a delirious stage whisper, “I like it!”

What did she like?

Shhh, Billie cautioned her, and the whispers stopped.

This wasn’t the silly bedtime chatter of two little girls. What it was, I couldn’t allow myself to guess.

The room spun as I stood up. I had to lean against the bedroom door to steady myself. I took a breath, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and buttoned my pajama top. The bottoms were somewhere, untraceable in the dark. It didn’t matter. Checking up on the girls would only take a second. They wouldn’t have enough time or enough light to notice my thatch.

The sofa-bed was in the middle of the living room, pointed toward the little balcony my landlord advertises as a life-enhancing amenity. The vertical blinds stood half open, and the distant lights from the parking lot and the buildings across the courtyard were just enough to see by.

I came up behind, looming over the girls’ heads, and looked down.

The covers were heaped at the far end of the bed. Beneath me, two dim figures huddled together with only a thin shadow between them. The larger figure was turned toward the smaller one, who lay on her back with her eyes shut and her dark lips thrust forward.

Details grew more distinct as I watched. I made out the round whiteness of the larger girl’s shoulder, and her outstretched arm, which ended where the smaller girl’s legs were parted. And at last, a spot of motion: the larger girl’s knuckles, flashing in a scalloped ridge one instant, dipping and vanishing the next, again and again and again.

To be blunt about it: the girls were naked, and Billie was jilling off her little friend.

I promised myself, when my daughter was born, I would not freak out over her sexual development the way my mother freaked out over mine. The woman threw me out of the house when I told her I was pregnant, and we haven’t spoken since. She’s never known what a joy her granddaughter is. I’m sure at some level I let myself get knocked up to prove to her I was straight. That backfired, of course. In one violent outburst, I graduated from suspected pervert to confirmed slut.

So I vowed, even before the epidural wore off, that I would be forthright and open with my little girl, and when the time came, I would reassure her that everyone who ever lived had the same feelings she had, and there was no reason to be ashamed about anything, ever. But I always figured it could wait, at least until she grew tits.

I should have put a stop to this. Even in the most progressive homes, little girls should not be fingering each other’s pussies. But the words died in my throat. We could talk about it later, but I couldn’t humiliate them right now. Besides, Kimberly was about to come — and so was I. My cunt was a wet sponge, sucking up my fingers.

I was frightened to death I would sigh or stumble or knock against the sofa, but fear only heightened the rush. The girls must have felt the same way, afraid they’d wake me up but too excited to stop, carried away by the risk and the awareness of how naughty they were being. We were all bad little girls, half-scared of getting caught, half wanting to be.

Billie bore down on Kimberly’s pussy, circling with her fingertips. Kimberly was sinking deep within herself. She breathed deeply, and long shadow-fingers spread through the gullies between her ribs, as though her chest was in the grip of two enormous black and skeletal hands. Her heels dug into the bed, lifting her bottom. Then all at once, the strength poured out of her. She let out a strangled cry, collapsed on the bed and, shaking all over, flipped onto her side, into Billie’s arms.

I came, too, almost falling over the back of the bed. I managed to pull back, unseen and unheard, and when I looked again, Kimberly had buried her face in Billie’s shoulder. At first, I thought she was crying, but it wasn’t crying. It was a prolonged whimper that spoke of the hunger to be loved.

“Was it nice?” Billie whispered.

Kimberly whined in the affirmative, and her lace-blossom crown bobbed in the dark. Billie cooed over her, stroking her back, holding her bottom. Kimberly crooked a knee between Billie’s legs, and Billie, accepting the invitation, began to grind against the slanted thigh.

She must have been close already, because it took only a few moments of concentrated humping before she was quaking and shuddering the way Kimberly had. But she didn’t whimper like Kimberly. My daughter came like a steam engine, with a chain of heavy puffs that ended in a drawn-out sigh. She was the dominant one here, owning her own pleasure, taking responsibility for her partner’s. My baby girl. I was proud of her, in a perverse way.

They were so into each other they never glanced up once. I was invisible to them, like an angel looking down from on high — an angel coming for the third time.

I stood watch as they fell asleep, nose to nose, holding hands beneath their chins. Before I left them, I sent forth a silent wish, which I’m sure they heard in their dreams, because they did just as their angel instructed.

They kissed goodnight.

On to Part Two!

Karin has already contributed several excellent stories to this site… and here’s a new delight for you to savor. Thanks, Karin, for the erotic treats. — JetBoy

by Karin Halle

In the wake of storms on the Great Lakes, the shores were regularly littered with debris, some of which could prove useful to beachcombers, especially those who otherwise had very little.

Thus it was that on the morning of Saturday, September 8, 1860, a fourteen-year-old girl left the cabin she called home after her mother had left for her job in the Illinois village of Port Clinton. Susannah Croft made her way to the shore of Lake Michigan to see if anything of value had washed up in the overnight gale. After the previous storm, she had retrieved a small timber crate that contained eight cans of lovely, delicious peaches.

Susannah knew she could not hope to be so lucky a second time, but in the innocence of her youth, she was still an optimist – the hardscrabble life she endured had not yet weighed upon her spirit as it had upon her mother, Harriet.

Harriet had not yet sent the girl out to find employment, allowing her instead to remain at home to cook and clean and sew. The woman had many good years ahead of her and wanted to spare her daughter for as long as possible. Besides, a few extra dollars would barely make any difference to their straitened circumstances.

Susannah clambered over the rocks, arriving at a stretch of clear shore covered by a fine grit. A large object, clearly not native to the spot, lay in the distance ahead of her. As she approached, she saw to her horror it was a human body – white as marble, and just as lifeless. She assumed it had been swept from a ship caught in the gale.

The victim was a girl who looked to be not too many years older than herself. She lay without a shred of clothing, fully exposed on her back, with her legs apart as though nature had determined that mere nakedness was not sufficient degradation. The head was tilted slightly to one side.

Susannah was distraught at the sight, but not afraid. She had seen death often, including her own father and brother, who had both passed on in their little home, her father from an accident and her brother as the result of an unidentified fever.

But how had the castaway come to be naked? Kneeling beside the body, Susannah removed her jacket and laid it discreetly across the girl’s hips – there was nothing she could do to preserve the modesty of the upper torso.

She closed her eyes and said aloud, “Almighty and merciful God, protect this poor soul and take her into Thy care.” She then clasped the ice-cold hand.

The slight movement caused water to spurt from the girl’s mouth, a common occurrence with drowning victims. Not so common was the little cough that followed. Then the eyes flickered open for a moment.

“Praise the Lord!” Susannah exclaimed. She attempted to help the scarcely living soul to her feet, but stopped when the injured girl cried out in pain.

“You must try to rise,” Susannah urged. “My home is not far.”

With great effort the girl managed to stand, though not without various pains that caused her to wince, moan, and even cry out. Laboriously, they made their way to the shack, where a fire would provide some sorely needed, comforting warmth.

With the girl seated on a stool before the hearth, Susannah fetched a blanket, but when she placed it across her shivering guest’s shoulders, the poor thing gasped with pain.

Fetching a lamp, Susannah looked closely at the girl’s back. One side, she observed, was scratched and torn from the shoulder to the haunches. Though the cuts were not deep, they were fire-red and angry-looking.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Susannah murmured. “That is very dirty, and needs to be washed. I shall apply some salve that Mother has, which may ease your suffering a little.”

She fetched warm water and the softest piece of cloth she could find, and gently cleaned the gashes.

The girl twitched repeatedly as Susannah bathed her wounds, but made no complaint. Susannah next applied the salve, with strokes as gentle as she could make them, and the girl hardly winced at all.

As she tended to the patient, Susannah introduced herself, asked the girl her name, and enquired as to what had happened.

“My name? I cannot seem to recall,” the girl said uncertainly. “All I remember is … rushing water, then I was lifted up and flung, and I was knocked against something, and then I was overboard and in the water … it was rough and the waves were fierce and I was very much afraid. And then … that is all that I can remember.”

“And before that – before you were on the ship?” Susannah prompted.

With a gasp of dread, the girl whispered, “I can’t remember … I remember nothing. Nothing at all!”

Though horrified, Susannah sensed it was important to keep her patient in the best possible spirits.

“You have been spared by the grace of God Almighty,” she said, “so I shall call you Grace until your memory returns.”

Only when her mother returned from the village at suppertime did Susannah and Grace garner any news.

“The Lady Elgin was lost in the storm,” Harriet informed them. “She must have been one of the passengers.”

“The Lady Elgin,” Susannah repeated to Grace. “The Lady Elgin – does the name have any meaning for you?”

“None. None at all,” Grace said sadly.

“A great many lives were lost in the tragedy,” Harriet went on. “The remains of the poor souls who were taken are everywhere. It will take time to identify them all. Meanwhile, child, you shall stay with us. Susannah, run to the village and fetch Doctor FitzHerbert at once.”

“I am very appreciative, Mistress Croft,” Grace protested. “But I cannot repay the kindness of you and your daughter. And I have nothing at all with which to pay a doctor.”

“You are no trouble to us, child,” Harriet assured her. “And Doctor FitzHerbert – well, he shall take one of Susannah’s excellent broths in settlement of his fee, and will be quite glad of it.”

Harriet spoke truly. The doctor, excited by news that the wreck had yielded another survivor, arrived at the shack within the hour. He was astonished at the girl’s condition, for, upon examination, he concluded Grace might have a broken rib but, with the exception of the savage scrapes on her back, she was otherwise uninjured. He noted that he could find no injury to Grace’s head that would explain her memory loss.

“The loss of memory might be merely the result of shock,” he said. “Or, as she was half-drowned, her brain might have suffered from a lack of air, causing the memory loss.”

“Will her memories return?” Susannah asked.

“Perhaps they will, in time,” the doctor mused. “Or possibly only some. Perhaps not at all. These things we do not know, cannot know – only God in His glory knows the human mind.”

He turned to Grace.

“Nevertheless, you are most fortunate, young miss,” he said. “I would call your survival a miracle. Many have been washed ashore on the tides, and few are still living. Most of the bodies were quite badly disfigured, and I suspect that a great number will defy all efforts to identify their remains.”

After dining, the doctor thanked Harriet for her hospitality and Susannah for her hearty broth, then took his leave.

Harriet told Susannah to defer clearing the dishes until the morning. “I think our poor visitor needs to sleep now,” she said.

Harriet had a room to herself, and Susannah would share her little bed with Grace. She offered her spare nightshirt to her guest, but Grace insisted she would sleep without covering, lest the material irritate her wounds.

Susannah thought nothing of it. She and her mother had spent many a restless summer night lying atop their bedclothes, spread-eagle and in a wholly natural state, yearning for a breath of wind from the lake. Yet her heart went out to this wretched creature, who feared even the slightest touch against her ravaged skin. In an instant, Susannah resolved to show her sympathy by sharing Grace’s burden. She, too, would sleep naked.

Grace watched in silence as her hostess disrobed. Then the girls climbed into bed together and cuddled closely, spooning to keep warm as there was no fire in the little bedroom.

“The touch of your flesh against me is soothing,” Grace purred, “and warm.”

They drifted to sleep, and did not wake until late the next morning, long after Harriet had left for Port Clinton.

“How do you feel this morning?” Susannah enquired. She was still spooned against Grace’s back, but not too tightly, as she had been the night before.

“There is less pain,” was Grace’s reply, “thanks to your care, and your mother’s salve.”

“Let’s get up and I shall apply some more,” Susannah suggested.

“Presently,” Grace replied.

She reached behind her with one hand and, following a short, groping search, found a spot her rescuer had always regarded as inviolable.

Susannah gasped in shock. “What are you doing?”

“Please let me,” Grace said. She turned carefully in the bed, so that they now faced one another. “I shall be as gentle with you as you have been with me!”

As a country girl, Susannah knew of the regenerative nature of the loins, and the urges they were said to produce in animals. But as a human being, blessed with the knowledge of right and wrong, she believed in her heart she would never succumb to base instinct. Yet this new sensation took her by surprise. It was immoral, she knew, yet the feeling was wonderful. She tingled all over, but she tingled most where Grace was touching her.

One spot in particular made her tremble each time Grace’s fingers moved across it. There was moisture too, which Grace spread liberally, as though slathering a goose with butter. Without even intending it, Susannah parted her legs. She longed for more of Grace’s ministrations, even if she was unwilling to admit it to herself.

Grace’s finger burrowed between the fleshy parts of her privates, to the very edge of her most sacred recess. Susannah felt herself challenged – she wondered how that finger would feel placed inside her, but also knew she must remain intact for her future husband, whoever he might be, on their first night together.

She could not decide which impulse to follow, but Grace’s actions made the decision for her. With her finger poised at Susannah’s entrance, she flicked her thumb against that luscious spot whose acquaintance Susannah had made only moments ago.

“Oh yes!” Susannah sighed. The words were out before she knew it, and Grace, thus encouraged, slid her finger forward – inside Susannah’s very body! Only a little way, to be sure, not even past the barrier, but soon …

Grace’s thumb continued to arouse Susannah, to the point at which she no longer cared about some unknown future husband, should there even be one.

“Oh yes!” she gasped again. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She felt the tension against her maidenhead, then the release. Grace’s finger was inside her now – completely.

Susannah had just enough time to think, I am now a woman! before a new sensation, more powerful than any she had ever experienced, began to build up inside her – and not just at the point where Grace’s finger was performing the proper office of a cock, but through her entire being.

The feeling continued to build, then reached its peak and crashed over her senses like a wave upon a rock. Susannah was aware of nothing but the ecstasy of being a woman. Every part of her clenched, then suddenly relaxed as the release surged through her.

A voice in her head cried out, “Oh sweet Jesus!” and her mouth echoed the words.

Her whole body shuddered as she gradually became aware of Grace’s finger plunging into her, and the thumb circling that magical spot, and Grace whispering, “Oh, you beautiful girl. Come for me, and keep coming!”

The overwhelming sensation was building up again, and Susannah silently prayed for its arrival.

This second time was even better than the first, because Susannah knew what was happening, and what she would experience when the climax arrived. She went rigid. She went limp. She cried out. She sobbed with joy.

“In the name of heaven, what are you doing to me?” she wailed.

“I’m fucking you,” Grace said simply. “It is God’s secret gift to women, but only for those who seek it out. Do you like me to fuck you?”

“Like it?” Susannah moaned through her sobs. “I adore it! It’s the most unbelievable … the most …”

It happened again – not as intense this time, but it lasted longer. Susannah wondered if she might faint, but she was determined not to allow herself – there was no way on God’s earth she was going to miss even a second of this rapture.

She was still crying uncontrollably as Grace rolled gingerly onto her back, wincing and gasping as she did so.

“Darling Susannah, do you think you can do those things to me?”

“Oh yes! Let me, please let me! Please?”

“Yes, but be gentle. I am very sore.”

Susannah Croft was gentle. The only thing that mattered was to return the ecstasy Grace had bestowed upon her. Her forsaken maidenhead was no longer a concern – a husband, and men generally, were no longer important. Even the duty to bear children was meaningless. Susannah Croft knew that, from this moment forward, the only thing she cared about was Grace – the shipwreck survivor she had not even known a mere day earlier.

Susannah idly thought of her mother – would she disapprove? She realized she didn’t care too greatly about that, either.

Their lips pressed together lightly for a moment. Instinctively, Susannah opened her mouth, and Grace’s lively tongue entered. This was kissing of a kind Susannah had never known, and she sucked the writhing muscle in encouragement. She also tasted the wetness that was trickling forth, and she knew that it was good.

As they kissed, Susannah’s hand found Grace’s breast and rested lightly upon it. It was fuller than her own, and elegantly shaped – the most perfect thing of all God’s creation. Its twin was equally perfect. Susannah had to kiss those emblems of womanhood.

Then, suddenly, she needed to see Grace’s most private place. Nudity was nothing new to her, but never had she been so close to another female, nor closely inspected those parts that made a woman. As she shifted position, Grace spread her legs wide.

Little folds of pink flesh, like lips, opened beneath Susannah’s gaze. She put her thumbs to them and peeled them back to see inside. Here she found a darker pink, with a sheen of clear moisture. (It must be part of loving, Susannah decided.) An indentation led deeper inside, beneath the tiny protrusion which she now knew gave so much pleasure. This work of God that lay between a woman’s legs outshone all others!

Acting solely on instinct, she put her lips to those beautiful parts and kissed Grace there. Grace’s deep sigh was her reward. Wanting to taste those parts, and that fluid – the nectar of love – she bore down harder and kissed more deeply.

Grace’s fruit was even sweeter, juicier, than the canned peaches Susannah had retrieved after the previous storm.

“Should I put my finger in you?” Susannah asked,

“Oh, yes, my love. And fuck me!”

“I shall … fuck you,” Susannah declared. If her mother heard her use such a word, she knew, her mouth would be washed out with soap.

She carefully inserted a single finger into Grace’s hole – and was amazed by the warmth and the texture. She began, gently, to pump her finger in and out, as she knew males did it with their manhood.

“Use two fingers!” Grace panted.

Two? Susannah wondered. Was that even possible? Would they fit? Yet surely Grace knew her own capacity, and the passage to her womb felt slippery and pliable enough.

Cautiously, Susannah slipped her fourth finger alongside the third, and she knew at once her fears had been unwarranted. Grace easily took both deep inside her, grasping them tight with her inner muscles. Susannah began to pump with her hand.

Then she remembered the thing Grace had done to her. With the thumb of the same hand, she burrowed between Grace’s slick pink folds, massaging the little bulb.

Grace twitched and gasped, “Oh, yes! You are learning!”

Susannah pressed down on the bulb, which seemed to respond by swelling against her thumb. Twisting her hand, she was soon able to pump with her two middle fingers, simultaneously squeezing the growing bud between thumb and forefinger.

“Ah, you are an enchantress!” Grace gasped, and she began to tremble.

As Susannah watched in disbelief, Grace experienced the same joy that she had dispensed only a few minutes before. Presently she reached up to pull Susannah down towards her, and kissed her again.

The taste of Grace’s mouth itself became sufficient reason for living. Timidly Susannah pushed her tongue forward. Now it was Grace’s turn to suck, and she made a soft humming sound as she did so – obviously one of approbation.

They kissed thus heedlessly awhile, but soon Susannah needed to explore Grace’s body, and to touch all of the firm but yielding flesh. She found herself delighting in playing with Grace’s breasts one again, discovering the dimple in her belly, and inspecting the bud that peeped from the pink folds between her legs. She would never lose her astonishment that something so tiny could afford such enormous pleasures.

Presently, she remembered something and told Grace to turn over. She wanted to apply lotion to Grace’s poor torn back, but before she could do so, she was entranced by the plump round globes of her bottom. She knew, of course, what lay between those globes, but still was compelled to look. Parted Grace’s flesh, and beheld the most delicate flower ever.

Dragging her attention back to the loathsome cuts and scrapes on Grace’s back, she put a little ointment onto the tips of her fingers and spread it over the wounds. Three times Grace hissed in pain, and three times Susannah apologized, but each time Grace told her that she knew Susannah would never intentionally hurt her.

Only in the middle of the afternoon did they finally leave the bed. After attending to the call of nature, they ate a little, although neither was very hungry.

As evening approached, Susannah donned a nightdress – she was fearful of her mother’s reaction if she were to find her entirely bare in the presence of a guest, and for no apparent reason. Indeed, when Harriet returned, she wondered at Susannah’s night attire. “Why in the world are you not dressed?’ she asked.

“Grace cannot bear the touch of cloth on her wounds, and I thought she would feel less shame for her nakedness if I too was naked. I have put this on only because you were due home.”

Harriet smiled, with a most peculiar expression on her face. “I saw you two in bed before I left this morning. You will recall that you were both unclad.”

Susannah’s face registered shock, but Harriet was not offended. She was not even perturbed.

“You looked so pretty together,” she said with a melodic lilt, “that way.”

“You are not angry?” Susannah whispered in disbelief.

“The only anger I feel is that you have not attended to your chores,” Harriet told her. “What do you imagine we shall have to eat tonight?”

Susannah hurried to prepare a meal for them all, assuring them that it would soon be ready.

“I have more news of the disaster on the lake,” Harriet announced over their meal. “It seems that the Lady Elgin was rammed by another vessel in the storm, and she quickly broke apart. Many bodies have washed ashore all along the coast, but there are more survivors in addition to Grace, thank the Lord.”

She paused as both girls whispered words of relief, then went on.

“It is unknown how many were aboard, nor how many have survived. And most passengers bought tickets without booking, so it is not known who might have been aboard.”

With that news, conversation came to a halt. With Grace’s assistance, Susannah set about clearing the table and washing the bowls, while Harriet took her ease.

When it came time for bed, Harriet wished them both goodnight. Then, to Susannah’s utter astonishment, she said, “Should you girls wish to play games with each other tonight, please do not make too much noise. I need my sleep, as I must work tomorrow, and in any case, I have no wish to hear such things.”

Turning, she went to her room. She left Susannah gaping after her.

The youngsters slept during the night, partly out of consideration for Harriet, but mainly out of embarrassment lest the adult overhear them. And provided that Susannah attended to her chores the following day, they could devote many hours to loving each other.

Although they woke at a reasonable time, Harriet had already left for her employment. Susannah performed her chores and treated Grace’s injuries. Then they partook of a midday meal.

The afternoon was spent in Susannah’s bed, before Susannah dressed in preparation for her mother’s return. Grace donned Susannah’s nightdress. She had been naked since her rescue and, although her wounds were still tender and were irritated by the cloth, she wanted Harriet to find her covered when she returned.

The evening meal was ready at the customary time, and Harriet thanked both girls for not overlooking the daily housework. As they relaxed after their meal, Susannah broached the subject that had been uppermost on her mind.

“Mother, what will become of Grace when she is well?”

“I do not know,” Harriet admitted. “Unless she can recall her name, or something about herself, it will be nearly impossible for her to contact her kinfolk.” She didn’t add the words, “If she still has any kin alive.”

“Might she stay with us, Mother?”

“As soon as I am able, I shall find a way to earn my keep,” Grace added, “should I be permitted to stay, that is. And I can teach Susannah her letters, so she will be able to read and write … and I can teach her to work numbers, too! Then she might be able to secure a good position.”

“I know my numbers,” Susannah insisted indignantly. “I can count. I am fourteen,” she added proudly.

“You need more than that, dear,” Harriet told her. “I can count, too, and I am thirty-seven. But there is much more. You must be able to work numbers – to make them work for you. You need to know how to add and take away, and be able to do times.”

The notion that Susannah could learn these things caused Harriet to dream. Although she did not possess such skills, she still had a good situation at a local manufactory. Yet she wanted more for her daughter than mere subsistence. The world of the future would leave the ignorant behind, and schools were being established in many small communities – even Port Clinton would someday have a school. And schools would need teachers …

“And you do not want Grace to leave, do you, child?”

“No, mother – I love her.”

Susannah had not intended to say that, but she could not take the words back.

A bleak look flashed across Harriet’s face. Susannah blushed with shame and hung her head.

“I’m sorry, mother, but it’s true. And I am certain that you know what I mean.”

Nodding slowly, Harriet turned to Grace. “And you? What do you say about that?”

“Only that I love Susannah – truly love her. And I want very much to be with her. And I also very much desire your acceptance.” She couldn’t gauge Harriet’s thoughts from her expression, so she went on. “I understand that such things are … unconventional, and are indeed disapproved of by many.”

Harriet, still silent, nodded.

“But I sense that you do not feel that way,” Grace continued. “Although you may not approve, you have in the last few days indicated that you can accept the feelings that Susannah and I have for each other. I believe too that you know the depth of those feelings, and that they are genuine.”

Speaking evenly, Harriet said, “I am convinced that Susannah loves you, but she is young and innocent, and may not have the wisdom yet to understand her desires.”

Susannah made to say something, but Harriet held up her hand. The girl knew better than to interrupt.

“And you, Grace – we don’t know your age, but I think that you are not too much older than Susannah. How well you know yourself and your feelings, none of us can tell.”

Harriet paused and Grace spoke up.

“I recall nothing of my past life, but I know that my affections are for those of my own sex. And I know how dearly I love Susannah.”

“Perhaps your past will come back to you, at which time many things might change,” Harriet said. “But I think that until that might happen, you should stay, at least for the time being.”

“Oh, Mother, thank you!” Susannah leapt to her feet and hugged Harriet, repeating the words, ‘thank you’.

Harriet looked over her daughter’s shoulder at Grace.

“I am most grateful for your hospitality and your consideration of my plight, and for your tolerance,” Grace said.

On to Chapter Two!

by BlueJean

Eliza…

Calm, Isabel. Be at peace.

Where is my sweet child?

Long departed, sister. Long departed. Let me soothe you.

You lie, Astris! Always you lie. She is near. She calls for her mama.

Hush, Isabel. That one is not your child.

She is mine!

No. She belongs to another. You must not harm her.

Liar! For long and long have you kept me anchored to this tree! But your power wanes, Astris. I can feel you fading, yet my reach grows further each day.

Do not fight me, Isabel. I am not your enemy.

Enough! Your kind knows nothing of motherhood… Eliza, my sweet, Mama is coming for you…

***

Mum says all honey is unique. It tastes different depending on where it comes from and what kind of nectar the bees collect. Newton honey is made from wildflower nectar and has a special flavour.

It took us nearly a whole day to harvest the second batch of honey and put it into jars. Some of it would go to the post office so Mrs. Jeffries could sell it for us, and the rest Mum would sell online, along with beeswax, royal jelly and something called propolis, which looks like bee poo but is actually a mix of saliva and beeswax that the bees use to seal up small holes in the hives. Mum says it’s an ingredient in some kind of varnish people use for musical instruments.

When we’d finished bottling the honey, Millie went outside to play with Bee, while me and Mum cleaned up. As I washed the storage buckets in the sink, I could see my sister through the kitchen window, standing in the garden with her back to me. She looked like she was shaking or something. Bee was sitting close by, poking her with a paw.

“What’s that girl doing now?” I mumbled.

“Hmm?” Mum stacked the last of the honey into boxes and then wandered over to peer out the window. “Let’s go see what’s happened.”

We hurried outside to find Millie cupping a little yellow bundle of feathers, tears streaming down her face. “He’s… he’s dead, Mummy! Nigel’s d-dead!” she sobbed, barely able to get the words out.

Mum knelt down and put her arms around my sister. “Oh, Millie. I’m so sorry.”

“Did Bee do it?” I asked, but Millie was crying so much she could only shake her head.

“I think it may have been a bird of prey,” Mum told me as she held my sister’s hand.

“It’s not fair! He spent his whole life in a cage and then… and then when he was finally free, something k-killed him!” Millie wailed.

Mum wiped away my sister’s tears and kissed her on the head. “Sometimes nature can be cruel, Millie. Your little bird didn’t understand about all the dangers out there in the world. He didn’t have anyone to teach him when he was young.”

“I hate nature, then!” Millie sobbed. “I’ll go live in the big tree where no one can hurt me or make me cry anymore!”

I stroked my sister’s back. “Don’t say that, Millie.” Hearing her talk like that made me feel scared. She could be a bit annoying sometimes but I didn’t want her to disappear inside a tree.

Mum managed to persuade Millie to part with Nigel so she could put him into a big matchbox. “We could have a funeral for him. Would you like that?” she asked my sister.

Millie gave a sad nod. “We should invite Miss Laine.”

“Oh. Well, Sadie didn’t really know your canary, sweetie.”

“I want her to come, though,” Millie insisted.

“All right, I’ll ask her.”

“And Mr. Dalliard, too.”

“We probably shouldn’t bother Mr. Dalliard.”

My sister turned to me. “He’d be quite upset if we didn’t invite him, wouldn’t he Freya?”

I didn’t think Mr. Dalliard would be too bothered really, but I knew Millie would start crying again if I didn’t agree with her. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

So, the next day we held a little service for Nigel in the garden.

Mr. Dalliard turned up wearing his WW2 beret and all his medals attached to his smart blazer. He used a walking stick to get around, which I’d never seen him do before. I hadn’t really believed him when he said he was the oldest person in the world, but he definitely looked older lately. Old and tired.

“Oh, Mr. Dalliard, you didn’t need to go to all that effort,” Mum told him as she fetched him a chair.

“Weren’t no bother, really,” Mr. Dalliard said and gave my sister’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “‘Ow ya ‘oldin’ up, littlun?”

Millie did a big sigh. “I’m okay, thanks.”

Miss Laine knelt down and took my sister’s hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Millie.”

Millie looked a bit confused. “Pardon?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss. That’s what you say to people when they lose someone special.”

“I didn’t lose him, Miss Laine. A nasty bird pecked him to death.”

“Oh. yes, I didn’t mean you’d actually lost him. Pecked to death, though, that’s… that’s horrible… poor thing.”

“Terrible way to go,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

Mum put the big matchbox down on the ground next to a hole that we’d dug in the rose bed, then cleared her throat. “So, we’re gathered here today to pay our respects to… um… sorry, what was his name?”

“Nigel,” Millie said with a frown.

“To Nigel, who was Millie’s beloved canary, and whose life was cut tragically short.” Mum paused and then continued. “It’s always hard when a friend dies, isn’t it? Really hard. And sad. Really, really sad. So… yeah… Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” She trailed off awkwardly. Mum wasn’t very good at this kind of thing, not really.

Miss Laine stepped forward. “If it wasn’t for Millie, that poor little bird would have spent his whole life in a cage on Mrs. Jeffries’ shop counter, which is no life for anyone. But Millie saved him, and thanks to her, for the first time in his life he discovered the freedom of the skies. Isn’t that amazing?”

“But a bird got him and pecked him to death,” Millie pointed out.

“And then he got pecked to death. Which is not ideal,” Miss Laine concluded.

“Terrible,” Mr. Dalliard added.

“Yes… thank you, Sadie,” Mum said. “Would you like to say some words, Millie?”

Millie took a big breath. “Well, I just wanted to set Nigel free because it’s really sad to see a bird in a cage and there’s no point having wings if you can’t use them to fly and it’s like having… it’s like… having legs but not being able to run. Well, you can have a wheelchair to get around, actually, but it’s better to be able to run… and birds don’t have wheelchairs anyway. So he was really happy to fly for the first time and he was definitely happy because he used to fly around and go, ‘tweet tweet tweet!’ and so that’s how I know he was happy, but then a big bird swooped down and pecked him to death and the big bird didn’t even eat him, so it probably just pecked him to death for fun, which is really mean, and I hope an even bigger bird swoops down and pecks the big bird to death too, so it knows how it feels to be pecked to death.”

We all stared at Millie, unsure what to say after a speech like that.

“I’ve finished now,” my sister informed us and sniffed.

“That was lovely, Millie,” Miss Laine said and put her arm around my sister.

“Aye, a fine speech,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

“Would you like to say something, Freya?” Mum asked me.

“No thanks,” I replied, but Millie gave me the stare of death. “Um, just that, I’m glad he found some happiness with us, really.”

Millie clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, though.

“And… we didn’t have to pay much for him? So that was good,” I offered.

“Will Mrs. Jeffries give us our money back, Mummy?” Millie asked.

“Oh, I think that ship’s sailed, sweetie,” Mum told her.

“Always keep the receipt,” Mr. Dalliard said, helpfully.

Mum spoke again. “Well. Unless anybody else would like to say something, I think we should lower Neville—”

“Nigel!”

“Uh, I think we should lower Nigel into the grave. Girls, would you do the honours?”

It felt a bit silly, putting a matchbox into the flowerbed with Millie. One person could have done it easily but it was important that I was there for my sister on this terrible day. So we took a side each and lowered the little coffin into the ground and then covered it over with soil. I hoped Bee didn’t dig it up and eat what was left of Nigel. Millie took a cross she had made out of lollipop sticks and stuck it in the little grave.

Mr. Dalliard sang an old war song about fallen comrades, which was a little bit embarrassing, but it was a nice thing to do, I suppose.

Miss Laine had a bunch of flowers in her hands but she just picked a single flower to put on Nigel’s grave, leaving me wondering why she didn’t leave them all.

After we’d eaten some sandwiches and had a glass of lemonade, Mr. Dalliard got up to head home. Mum tried to persuade him to accept a lift in the car but Mr. Dalliard insisted he would keep walking as much as he could while he was still able. Before leaving, he went over to have a chat with Miss Laine. They were speaking really quietly and kept looking over at me and Millie. I wondered what they were talking about.

Miss Laine told us she needed to visit someone and would be back soon. As Mum and Millie took the plates and glasses inside to wash them up, I watched my teacher moving along the dirt track on the other side of the poppy field, heading toward the forest. I didn’t have a clue who she might be visiting – there weren’t any other houses in that direction for miles, and anyway, wouldn’t it have been quicker to take her car?

I decided to follow her. “Mum, I’m just going up to the post office to buy some sweets,” I shouted through the kitchen window.

“Okay, but take Millie and Bee with you,” Mum called back.

“I move quicker alone…” I replied in a really cool voice, then set off, taking a shortcut through the poppy field in pursuit of my elusive quarry.

***

“Freya! I said take – Oh, that girl!” I exclaimed as my wayward daughter ran off through the poppy field.

“I don’t want to go to the post office anyway, Mummy – I’m in mourning,” Millie declared.

“Oh, my baby’s in mourning!” I said dramatically and picked her up, peppering her face with kisses.

Millie tried her best not to smile, so I trailed more kisses down her neck. Finally her resolve broke, and she burst out laughing.

“Oh my goodness! Our little mourner is having a giggling fit!” I gasped, attacking her with more kisses.

“You made me!” Millie squealed.

She started to slip down my body, so I cupped her bum and hoofed her up. “You’re getting big,” I told her.

“You’re big!”

“You are!”

“No, you are!”

“You!”

“You!”

She rested her head in the crook of my neck and we laughed together. We stayed like that for a spell – me cradling my younger daughter, rocking her gently from side to side, just as I’d done when she was a babe.

“Why do things have to die, Mummy?” Millie asked me softly.

I wasn’t sure how to answer a question like that. Children seem to think their parents have a unique understanding of how the universe works. I tried my best to answer truthfully. “It’s all part of a big cycle, I suppose. Old things pass away and new things take their place.”

“Nigel wasn’t old, though.”

“Some things go before their time, Pixie. I’m not sure why.”

“Daddy wasn’t old either, was he?”

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

“At least he wasn’t pecked to death,” Millie offered.

Being pecked to death was probably preferable to slowly dying of cancer in a hospice bed, but my little girl didn’t need to know that.

“Let’s move over to the couch before you break my back.” I carried her into the lounge where the french doors were slung back to suffuse the room in a hazy afternoon light. I stroked her bum as she sat in my lap.

Millie began caressing my collar bone with her fingertips. She glanced up at me with an impish grin. “Does that tickle?”

“Not really,” I replied. “It feels nice, though.”

“Shall we do a dare?” Millie asked.

“What kind of dare?”

“I’ll let you put your hand up my skirt if you let me touch your boobies.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “I’m not sure that’s a dare,” I told her.

“It is, because I might say no or you might say no.”

“I probably won’t say no. Will you?”

Millie giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“I don’t think it’s a dare, then.”

She thought about that for a second. “Okay, but shall we do it anyway?”

Gently does it, I told myself. Let’s see where this is going. “Go on, then. Undo the buttons on my shirt.”

“‘Kay. You can put your hand up my skirt while I’m doing that.”

I moved my hand down onto her bare legs and then back up underneath her skirt, caressing my daughter’s podgy bottom through her panties.

Millie, meanwhile, unhooked the buttons on my linen shirt, down and down until it hung open slightly, teasing the swell of my cleavage.

“Shall I touch them now?” she asked me.

I smiled and nodded to her. “Pull my shirt open first, so you can see what you’re doing.”

She tugged the halves of my shirt apart, gave me a big grin, then asked, “Mummy, why don’t you wear a bra much?”

“Bras are for city girls. Country girls like to hang free,” I told her with a wry smile.

I stroked and squeezed her bum as she explored my breasts, and soon the familiar glow of arousal smouldered between my legs.

I wanted to experiment with my youngest daughter, I realised, just as I’d done with Freya. But Millie was only seven and I wasn’t sure how far I should take things with her, so I was content to let her initiate and lead this sexy little game, wherever she might choose to take it.

“How does that feel?” I asked as she sat on my lap kneading my tits, occasionally rolling my nipples between her fingers.

“Do you mean me feeling your boobies, or you feeling my bottom?”

“Well… both, I suppose.”

“Oh, it’s quite nice. Your boobies are all squidgy!”

“So’s your bum!” I said and gave her arse a playful pinch.

“Ahhh!” Millie squealed and wriggled about on my lap. She looked me in the eye, then that impish smile was back. “Mummy, I know some other things we could do, but if they’re too rude, do you promise not to tell me off?”

Hearing my little girl say that sent a surge of lust through me that quickly centred in my pussy. How rude could a seven-year-old be? I’d seen her going down on her big sister, and that left me wondering what it would feel like to have a little girl licking my cunt.

I gave her a serious look. “I promise not to tell you off, but whatever we do has to be our secret, okay?”

She gave me a big exaggerated nod. “It’s okay, I won’t tell.”

“What would you like to do, then?”

“So… I could suck your boobies… you know, like a baby,” Millie suggested.

I nearly moaned out loud. “I don’t mind if you do that, but you have to think of something I could do to you, too,” I told her, playing along with her childish erotic game.

Millie thought for a moment. “Um… okay, I’ll let you touch the front of my panties instead of the back.”

God, yes. “That works for me,” I said and slid my hand round to place it on my child’s panty-covered mound, stroking her there.

Millie latched onto my nipple and suckled like a newborn. I wondered if some part of her subconscious remembered feeding from me, reawakening some dormant instinct.

“That’s nice,” I told her and stroked her hair with my free hand. I traced the crease of her pussy lips, feeling the warmth of it through her knickers.

Millie released my breast with a pop. “How long shall we do this for?” She asked me, her breath warm against my moist nipple.

“However long you want,” I told her.

“No, you have to say. Then when we’re done, I’ll think of something even ruder we can do, okay?”

I found myself wondering what naughty ideas my little girl might conjure up next. “All right, then. How about… five minutes?” I suggested.

“Okey-dokey!” Millie chirped, then proceeded to nurse at my other tit as I fondled her between the legs.

Occasionally checking my watch, I let my little girl suckle from me until our five minutes had expired. I took my hand from under her skirt and lightly tapped her shoulder. “Time’s up, imp.”

“Oh, that went quick, didn’t it?” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“It sure did. So what’s next?” I said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement.

“Now you have to close your eyes,” she told me.

“Ah, this is where you steal all my valuables and run away, isn’t it?” I joked.

Millie laughed. “No, I won’t do that, I promise. But don’t open them until I say, okay?”

“All right, I’m trusting you.” Closing my eyes, I felt the weight of her vanish from my lap as she climbed off me.

I could hear the rustling of clothes and her little huffs and puffs as she went about doing whatever it was she was doing. “You can open your eyes now,” she said.

I snapped open my eyes to find my little girl on the couch, standing astride my legs, her pantied crotch mere inches from my face. She’d tucked the hem of her pink skirt into its waistband, and had pulled her matching panties right up so the material stretched over her vulva like a second skin.

“Look, you can see my kitty through my knickers!” Millie told me, just in case it wasn’t obvious.

I stared between my daughter’s legs. “I certainly can.”

“I’ll actually let you kiss it, if you want.”

My pussy ached and throbbed. I needed a hand inside my panties – I just wasn’t sure whose hand. “That’s very daring of you,” I told her.

“Yeah, I am quite daring, to be honest. More than Freya,” Millie boasted.

“So… I should kiss it?” I asked her, gently steering us back on track.

“Mm-hmm,” Millie hummed at me with a nod.

I planted my lips on her mound and kissed my daughter through her panties. She giggled, twitching away for an instant, but then pushing her crotch into my face for more. I made contact again – longer this time, gently sucking on her pussy lips as she pressed her hips forward, almost humping my face.

After a while, I gazed up at her. “Enough?”

Millie shook her head. “No… but wait. Close your eyes again, Mummy.”

I shut my eyes and smiled, wondering what I would open them to this time.

More rustling of clothing and a soft jingly laugh. Whatever she was doing, she was certainly enjoying herself.

“And you definitely won’t tell me off?” Millie asked me.

“I definitely won’t,” I reassured her.

“Almost… okay, almost ready. You can kiss it again, but keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“All right, then.”

She drew my head towards her, guiding me between her legs, and quite unexpectedly, it wasn’t her panties that brushed against my lips but the silky smooth skin of a little girl.

Millie giggled. “Now you can open your eyes, Mummy.”

Her panties were gone. So was her skirt. My daughter stood over me in just her t-shirt and cute little pink socks. Her puffy mound was hairless and blemish free, a rose bulb not yet ready to burst into flower. I’d seen my seven-year-old naked many times, of course, but now I viewed her through a lens of sexual attraction.

“I made you kiss my kitty!” a pleased Millie gasped.

“You did,” I told her. “And now… now I’m going to kiss it again.”

I put my mouth over her mons and gently sucked, sampling her flavour. She tasted incredible – sweet; tart, the forbidden spice of a child, no hint yet of the muskiness of sexual maturity. I planted a kiss on one little lip, then the other, savouring the moment.

“I don’t mind if you lick it,” Millie told me.

That was the only encouragement I needed. I drew my tongue up her childish slit.

I was actually doing it, going down on my seven-year-old daughter. Too late for regrets now. A line crossed is a line crossed forever.

Clutching my head, Millie ground against me while my tongue explored freely, flicking and lashing over her sweet baby cunt. I reached round to cup her bum – two soft globes in the palm of my hands.

All pretences of a fun little game had been pushed aside. This was lovemaking, plain and simple. I licked Millie’s pretty pink cleft, then nuzzled her tiny clit until, quite suddenly, she tensed against me and exhaled a big sigh, her mouth hanging ajar, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she came. Her legs trembled slightly as I peppered a few final kisses on her beautiful pussy.

“I think you just had an orgasm, Pixie,” I said, smiling up at her.

She slumped back down into my lap and nodded, strands of damp hair plastered to her forehead.

“Can Mummy have a kiss?” I asked my daughter.

Millie lunged at me and crushed her mouth to mine, then gave me what I can only describe as a rather vigorous face wash.

I put a finger on her lips and she pulled back, looking pleased with herself. “Wow! Okay. That was different,” I told her, laughing.

Millie grinned at me. “That’s how they do it on the telly.”

“Not quite, my little facehugger.” I gently pulled her towards me. “Our tongues are supposed to dance together, not fight each other to the death. Like this.” Parting my lips, I kissed my little girl, tongue lightly teasing hers. Soon enough, Millie found my rhythm, and we kissed as lovers.

When finally we separated, my daughter had a chuckle for me. “You taste like marmalade.”

“Well, you taste like bubblegum,” I retorted, rubbing her little nose with mine.

“I’ll lick your kitty now, okay? I know how to lick kitties,” she declared.

“Oh, do you now? And where would a little girl learn something like that, I wonder?” I teased, knowing full well what she and her sister had been getting up to.

Millie made a face like a startled monkey – her fibbing face. “Um… Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

I laughed. “Nice try, sweetie, but I don’t think Miss Laine would teach her pupils something like that.” Actually, I suspected Miss Laine would very much like to teach her young charges those kinds of lessons.

“No, not Miss Laine. I meant… I saw it on the telly.”

“You’ve been watching ladies licking each other’s kitties on the TV?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.

Millie shook her head. “No. It was a book, actually. I… read it by accident.”

I smiled and kissed her on the nose. “I think you’re a little fibber. And as punishment I think you should get down on your hands and knees, pull Mummy’s panties off and give her pussy a really good licking.”

Millie grinned at me and shuffled off the couch while I took my trousers off and threw them on the floor. I sat up and scooted to the edge of the couch as my daughter sat intrigued beneath me. She grasped the waistband of my now sopping knickers and I lifted my bum slightly so she could slip them down my legs.

“Did you wee in them?” Millie asked me, tossing the wet undies on the floor.

“No, I’m fully house trained, thank you very much. They’re all wet because you made me very excited, if you must know.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“’Cause you liked licking my kitty?”

“Exactly.” I spread my knees apart and cupped her chin, gently guiding her towards my steaming cunt. “Now lick my pussy. Just like I licked yours.”

I thought Millie might hesitate, but it seemed she was keen to taste her mummy. Her little kitten tongue flicked playfully against my cunt, and I jolted slightly at the sensation, my pent up arousal finally given an outlet. She tasted me again, then licked her lips, sampling the musky tang. Clearly approving, she pushed her tongue through my outer labia.

I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh, surrendering to my child’s mouth. “That’s so nice, Millie.”

“It tastes different to… oh, never mind,” she said, then returned to her task.

I ran my fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, Pixie. I know you and your sister have been doing rude things together. I don’t mind. Now lick Mummy out like a big girl. Make me come on your face.”

Millie put her fingers on my cunt and prised me open, spreading my fleshy lips apart and inspecting me with considerable interest. It occurred to me how different she was to her sister – Freya was shy, often uncertain, whereas Millie was bold and outgoing, always keen to try new things. And this was certainly new.

“Do you like looking inside Mummy’s pussy? Is it exciting?” I asked her.

“It’s really juicy in there,” she told me, then casually added, “I’m gonna put my tongue in, okay?”

Cradling my daughter’s head, I guided her to my waiting cunt, then attended to the urgent throb of my clit with a free hand. “Eat me, baby girl. Tongue fuck Mummy.”

Millie pressed her mouth to my steamy cunt, spreading my labia open and probing the hot pink flesh within – a busy little bee supping at her queen’s flower. And although that image didn’t quite make sense, the absurdity of it filled me with delight and drew a titter from my lips.

I stroked my little girl’s hair as she feasted upon me. “There you go, little bee. Drink Mummy’s nectar. Buzz buzz buzz.”

Millie gazed up at me, her tongue still eagerly flicking away. “Nnn?”

“Naughty little buzzy bee,” I gasped, spreading my legs as wide as I could. “Look at all the sweet honey you’re making. Lick it all up, baby bee!”

My daughter must have thought I’d gone completely mad, yet still she busied herself between my legs, lapping at my throbbing cunt while I humped against her, my impending climax fast approaching boiling point.

“Ooh yeah, little bee!” I cried, as my orgasm erupted violently. “Eat Mummy’s sticky flower! Suck my cunt! Oh! Fuck!”

I held Millie against my twitching loins as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me. For those few seconds I could hear nothing, see nothing – my entire being condensed down into a singular point of orgasmic bliss. Once the storm had passed, I closed my eyes and slumped back into the couch, basking in the pleasant afterglow.

Eventually, I came back down to Planet Earth and opened my eyes again. Millie was still kneeling on the floor looking up at me, her mouth smeared with my essence. “You said a lot of bad words, Mummy,” she told me in no uncertain terms.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I most certainly did!” I confessed, slapping myself on the wrist. “Naughty Mummy!” I cleaned Millie’s face up with her panties, then handed them to her. “Put those on, sweetie. Freya will be back soon.”

***

 

Footprints. Flat heeled. Size four, maybe a five. Freshly made and heading towards the forest.

She was no more than half a day in front of me, but I would need to pick up the pace if I was going to catch up to her.

I stood up and spat on the ground, squinting against the glare of the hot sun, then made my way towards the line of trees in the distance.

Freshly snapped branches. Insignificant to anyone else, but not me. I was an expert tracker, having been captured and raised by the Apaches. It gave me an edge as a bounty hunter; it was why I had a reputation for being the best.

This is where she had entered the forest, probably thinking she could lose me amongst the trees. But I knew these woods like the back of my hand, having been raised by wolves here. Before the Apaches found me, obviously.

Continuing to observe the signs, I followed the trail until finally it led me to her.

As I suspected. The old fireplace in the woods.

She was bent down, her back to me. I knew how this would go: I would sneak up on her and just as I was but a few feet away she would suddenly turn to face me and say something like, “Ah, Freya Newton. I’ve been expecting you.”

I stepped on a twig and snapped it.

Miss Laine spun round. “Arrgh!” she screamed, flapping her hands up and down.

“Waaaah!” I screamed back, startled.

“Freya! You nearly made me pee my pants!”

“I – I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Why are you sneaking around in the woods?” Miss Laine demanded to know.

“I… I was just out for a nice walk,” I improvised, before adding, “Fancy meeting you here!”

I should have known better than to try and fool my teacher. Miss Laine stood there with her hands on her hips. “Did you follow me, young lady?”

“No. Yes. A bit.”

Miss Laine threw her head back and laughed. She had a nice laugh – soft and jingly like… er… a fluffy bell? Maybe? Well, I like her laugh anyway. Finally giving me a smile, she said, “Can I ask why you followed me?”

“I dunno, really. Just curious to know where you were going, I suppose.”

“Well, now you know, Nosy Newton!” Miss Laine stepped away from the old fireplace and I could see the bunch of flowers she’d placed there – the same ones I’d noticed her holding back at our house.

“So it was you who’s been leaving flowers here,” I said to her.

Miss Laine looked surprised. “You’ve been here before?”

I nodded. “Millie found the fireplace a while back. We wondered who’d left the flowers.”

“And now you know that too, I guess.”

“Why do you leave flowers here?”

Miss Laine sighed and studied the remains of the old hut, as if she was trying to imagine what it might have looked like before the forest rotted it away. “To honour the memory of the lady who used to live here.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Who was she?”

“An ancestor of mine. Her name was Isabel.”

“Why’d she live in a forest?”

“Well, Isabel was a herbalist and a healer. I imagine most of her herbs came from the forest, so it seems like a sensible place to live. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s what Millie said too,” I pondered.

Miss Laine looked confused. “Er… you might need to explain that.”

“Millie said something about a lady who makes medicine. She must have meant Isabel.”

“How on earth would Millie know that?”

So I told Miss Laine the same tale I’d shared with Mr. Dalliard – about how Millie would touch things and space out and say weird stuff, and about our trip through the Menhir Stone. When I finished, I expected my teacher to burst out laughing or tell me off for lying, but to my surprise she put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a serious look.

“And this all started when your sister touched the ancient oak tree, you say?”

“Yeah.”

Miss Laine put both hands to her head and made a face. “I’ve been going to the wrong place all this time,” she said, more to herself than to me. “Isabel wasn’t here at all, she was in that damned tree. Shit!” She gave me a sheepish look. “Um, excuse my language.”

“That’s okay, I won’t tell,” I assured her. “What do you mean about Isabel not being here, though?”

Miss Laine studied me carefully, as if she were deciding whether I could be trusted or not. “Let’s walk home and I’ll do my best to explain. Some of it, at least.”

We left the old fireplace behind and came out on the hikers’ track that wound its way through the forest.

“I’ve been trying to send Isabel on her way, Freya,” Miss Laine explained. “It’s what I came here to do.”

That confused me. If Isabel was an ancestor, didn’t that mean she wasn’t alive? “Send her where?”

“Onwards. To the place where spirits go.”

“Huh?” I said, still not really understanding.

“Okay, that part’s complicated… and it’s not important right now. The point is, something bad happened to Isabel and her spirit didn’t move on. So she needs help.”

“What happened to her?”

Miss Laine came to a halt and gave me another serious look. “I’m not sure you’re old enough to know about that.”

I crossed my arms and stood up straight, giving my teacher a fierce look. “I bloody well am old enough, actually! I’ve been back in time and seen Dryads and Neanderthals! And now I’m trying to help my sister ’cause she’s in trouble, so don’t you give me any of that ‘you’re too young’ shit, okay?!”

“Freya Newton!” gasped Miss Laine, then burst out laughing, a hand held up to her mouth in shock.

“I’m not joking!” I shouted at her.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll tell you. But you probably shouldn’t mention this to your mum.”

I uncrossed my arms and relaxed a bit. I couldn’t quite believe I’d just spoken to my teacher like that!

“It’s not a nice thing to talk about, but some bad people said Isabel was a witch and hung her to death from the oak tree down by the fields – the same one Millie touched.”

I was shocked to hear that. “A witch? But they must have known witches aren’t real.”

It was Miss Laine’s turn to cross her arms now. “And what makes you think witches aren’t real?”

“They only exist in fairy tales and stories, don’t they?” I replied.

“Are Dryads real?” Miss Laine asked me.

It wasn’t long ago that I had told Mum and Miss Laine that Millie had been making it up about the Dryad. But after our trip through the Menhir Stone, I saw things differently. “Yeah… I think they might be.”

Miss Laine simply raised an eyebrow, and then I understood. This was how she taught us in school. She never told us the answer, just pointed us in the right direction and let us discover the truth ourselves. It was a really clever way of teaching.

“I guess witches could be real too, if Dryads are,” I admitted.

We continued on towards the edge of the forest.

“So Isabel was a witch?” I said.

“Yes.”

“But aren’t witches bad?”

“Witches are probably not what you think they are, Freya. History has taken the image of the witch and turned it into something to be feared and loathed. People have hunted witches for thousands of years, and Isabel learnt that the hard way – they took her away and killed her. But something happened and her spirit didn’t move on like it should have. Do you understand?”

I wasn’t sure I did, but kind of got the gist of it. “I think so. How do you know all this, though?”

“That’s hard to explain. Basically, I’ve spent a long time trying to piece it all together. The tree was the missing part. I thought she would have gone home, and there’s certainly old magic around that hut – the mushrooms indicate as much. But it could be the tree she’s anchored to. It would make sense, if that was where she died.”

My mind was a whirlwind of questions and confusion. Maybe all the weird stuff Millie was doing wasn’t the Dryad at all – maybe it was this Isabel. My sister had mentioned a ‘bad Dryad’. Could she have meant Miss Laine’s ancestor? “I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, but do you think Isabel has maybe, um… possessed my sister or something?”

Miss Laine mulled that over. “I’m honestly not sure, Freya. You see, I’m quite new at all this. Millie must be very receptive to magic if Isabel has managed to latch on to her. And tapping into the Menhir Stone like she did is definitely out of my league. I need to do some more research. In the meantime, keep this conversation between us, but keep a close eye on your sister. If anything odd happens, you let me know straight away, all right?”

“Yeah, I will.” I suddenly felt relieved that we might actually be getting somewhere with this. And also that Miss Laine didn’t think I was completely mental.

But there was something else I wanted to ask, too – something a bit embarrassing. “Um… Sadie?”

“Hmm?” Miss Laine said, her mind clearly on more important things.

“Did you give Mum your knickers so she could give them to me?” I asked and felt my face glow.

“My knickers? Oh. Well.” Miss Laine burst out laughing again. “I suppose I did, yes.”

I smiled shyly and pretended to scratch my nose. “Why?”

My teacher put a hand on my shoulder. “A little bird told me you like to have fun with dirty panties. Did I get it wrong?”

OMG, what else had Mum told Miss Laine about me? She made me promise not to speak to anyone about the rude things we’d been doing, but apparently she was allowed to tell whoever she liked. Parents are such hippopotamuses!

I shrugged and told Miss Laine, “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit… but yeah, I do kind of like them.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s normal to experiment at your age. At any age, actually,” Miss Laine told me. I felt her touch the back of my neck, lightly stroking me there. “I have a confession, too.”

“You do?” I asked, intrigued.

Miss Laine came to a halt, bent down and whispered in my ear. “I really liked kissing your bottom!”

I let out a stupid high-pitched giggle then, suddenly feeling awkward, cleared my throat. “Oh. Um… thanks. Well, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to kiss it again, you know?”

Miss Laine seemed to consider that very carefully, but shook her head. “Oh, Freya, there’s nothing I’d like more than to kiss your pretty bottom again, but we shouldn’t do anything like that without your mum’s permission.”

“Mum won’t mind,” I insisted.

“Maybe she will and maybe she won’t, but either way, it’s important that she has the final say. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I did things behind her back, now would I?”

I sighed. “I suppose not.” Then I had an idea. “We could show each other our kitties, though. That’s not actually touching, is it?”

Miss Laine laughed again. “Oh, my goodness! You’re incorrigible!”

“Can we, though?” I persisted.

Miss Laine looked around to make sure no one was in the vicinity. “Come into the trees, then. I don’t want anyone seeing us.”

We headed off the path and into the forest a little ways.

Miss Laine knelt down amongst the ferns and slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You first.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Will you definitely show me yours afterward?”

“I’m a woman of my word. If I say I’ll show you, I’ll show you.”

“You didn’t actually say you’d show me, though,” I pointed out.

“I’ll show you!” Miss Laine said, quick as a flash.

“Okay, good.” I pulled my shorts and panties down to my knees in one quick movement, then lifted my t-shirt up so she had a good view of everything.

Miss Laine stared between my legs with a dreamy look on her face. “My goodness, what a pretty little kitty,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Is it?” I asked.

“Oh yes, it’s beautiful. So smooth and fresh…”

I wanted her to touch it. But I knew that wouldn’t happen today. “Can I see yours now?”

“Show me your bum first,” my teacher said.

I turned around and gave her a little wiggle. “Do you like my bum, too?”

“It’s perfect,” Miss Laine told me with a happy sigh.

Then, feeling daring, I took hold of my bum cheeks and spread them apart, showing off my bumhole in a really dirty way. I hoped I was clean back there. “What about now? Do you still like it when I do this?” I asked my teacher with a smirk.

“Oh, dear.” Miss Laine perched a finger on her bottom lip and blinked a few times, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “What a naughty young lady. It’s… it’s so incredibly rude to spread yourself open like that.” Well, the way she was staring, I don’t think Miss Laine was quite as shocked as she pretended to be.

Letting go of my bum cheeks, I turned round to face my teacher. “Your turn now,” I insisted.

Miss Laine stood up and leant back against a tree. “Kneel down then, and I’ll show you.”

I squatted down in front of her, my knickers still stretched around my knees.

Miss Laine lifted her red dress up, revealing matching lacy panties and stockings. “Are you sure you want to see?” she asked me.

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I definitely do.”

She peeled her knickers to one side, and there I was, face to face with my teacher’s kitty for the first time ever. Except, you know, kitties don’t really have a face.

It was true what Mum had said: Miss Laine liked to shave her pussy. It was as smooth as mine except for a little tuft of hair at the top. I stared and stared, my mouth hanging open in awe.

“Do you approve, Freya Newton?” my teacher asked me in a husky voice.

I nodded slowly. “It’s really pretty. I… I’d love to touch it.”

Miss Laine shook her head and waggled a finger at me. “No tou-ching! Not each other, at least.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her.

“Take your panties off and give them to me,” Miss Laine instructed.

I didn’t hesitate; just slipped my shorts and panties off and then handed her the knickers.

Miss Laine pulled her own undies round her knees and then inspected mine. “Little girl panties with butterflies on. How delightful.” Pressing my knickers between her legs, she began rubbing them up and down her kitty.

“Oh, wow,” I gushed. I think I preferred touching, but after seeing Mum play with herself and now Miss Laine, I knew that watching could be lots of fun, too. No wonder adults liked looking at rude videos on the internet!

Miss Laine spread her pussy open and pushed my knickers between her lips, masturbating herself. “Is this okay, Freya? Making myself feel good with your panties?”

“Yeah, I really like watching rude stuff,” I replied, enthralled.

“Oh gosh, I feel so horny. I hope you don’t mind if I come on your knickers.”

“I don’t mind,” I told her as she scrubbed her gorgeous pussy with my panties, soaking all the butterflies in her juices. I slipped a hand between my legs and fingered myself, amazed at the dirty thing my teacher was doing in front of me.

“I could see you in class, Freya Newton,” Miss Laine told me as she rubbed herself. “Showing all the other girls your pussy under the table.”

Oh my God, she’d seen me do that? So embarrassing! But also… kind of exciting!

“I so wanted you to show me your pussy, too,” she continued. “And now you have. And your sexy little bumhole. Now I’m going to come. All over your pretty butterfly panties.”

Miss Laine went all tense and froze in place. “Oh, goodness! You. Sexy. Little. Girl!” She clutched my knickers to her kitty, making a mess of them as she orgasmed.

After seeing that, I was close to doing an orgasm too. I pushed my middle finger in and out of myself until that familiar feeling rushed up and surrounded me. “Miss Laine! I’m gonna lick your kitty one day!” I gasped, without really thinking what I was saying. I only just managed to keep my balance as I came, still squatting just above the ground.

Miss Laine bent to kiss me on the head, then handed me back my panties. “Put those back on, and then let’s get you home before your mum starts to worry.”

I slipped into my knickers. They were warm and wet and I didn’t ever want to take them off. Miss Laine pulled her own panties back up and pushed her dress down. I put my shorts on and, hand in hand, we headed home.

***

I was hanging out the laundry with Millie when Sadie and Freya strolled through the poppy field and up the garden towards us. Freya ran over to her sister, babbling about witches and someone called Isabel. Another one of their games, no doubt.

Sadie sauntered over and smiled, a slightly flushed look to her face.

I smirked at her. “Been sneaking off with my daughter, have you?”

“Not exactly,” Sadie replied.

I could smell sex on her. “Have you… been doing stuff together?” I asked.

Sadie winced a little. “No. I mean, a little showing, but no touching. Is that okay?”

I kissed Sadie on the mouth, a bedsheet gently blowing in the breeze, hiding us from the girls’ view. “Yes, it’s okay,” I told my best friend. “Actually… I think it’s about time the four of us had some naughty fun together… don’t you?”

Sadie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner here, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night sounds good. But Iet’s make it my place for a change.”

“It’s a date.”

Sadie gave me a dirty grin. “Ask the girls to wear something… pretty,” she said, reaching down to stroke herself between the legs.

I could feel all the pieces falling into place – Me; Millie; Freya; Sadie. This was how the universe wanted things to be. Nature is defined by patterns of chaos – try to establish some semblance of order within that chaos, or simply dive in and see where it takes you. So I took a deep breath… and leapt.

On to Chapter Nine!

Note from JetBoy: As the Head Editing Jockey of this site, one of my favorite duties is introducing new writers to our public… and let’s face it, we’ve hosted the debuts of some great ones. Here’s the first offering from an author who has what I fully expect to be a dazzling future at Juicy Secrets. See if you agree.

 

by C. Cat

“Ms. Collins, do you have a minute?” Caroline Scott, the owner of the ballet school, smiled at Amanda as she gestured toward her office. It seemed that she had some good news to share.

“Sure,” Amanda said, then glanced down at her eleven-year-old daughter Katie. “Get changed and pack up your things while I talk to Ms. Caroline, okay?”

“Okay, Mum,” Katie replied as she darted off, more in a mood to play with her friends than get ready to leave.

As her daughter scampered away, Amanda took a moment to enjoy the sight of a room filled with young girls in leotards and tights. She particularly loved the way those outfits showed the contours of their tight little bottoms, blossoming breasts, and slender legs. She wondered if some of these girls had the same erotic longings for their classmates, teachers, and maybe even their friends’ mothers that she’d felt at their age.

She let her gaze linger as long as she could before Caroline noticed, but as discreet as she tried to be, the ballet instructor recognized the signs. The extra heartbeat that passed before Amanda turned away from the young girls, her brief distracted look, the shake of the head to clear her thoughts, and the lingering trace of a smile all confirmed Caroline’s suspicions. The sight of these underage girls gave Katie’s mother the same erotic thrill that she felt herself. Interesting, she thought.

Caroline was also fairly certain that her Katie was a budding lesbian. It wasn’t as easy to tell with little girls; they were only just starting to sort out their feelings, and to make it even trickier, most females had crushes on other girls at that tender age. Caroline was a careful observer, though, and noticed subtle differences in how Katie acted around pretty girls. The child might not have a clear sense of it yet herself, but the attraction was clearly there.

“Katie is doing very well in class,” Caroline began. “In fact, an opportunity has come up that I’d like to recommend to her – if you agree, of course. Have you heard of Latchmore House?”

Amanda broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, absolutely! Katie and I love to go there.”

Latchmore House was an old Victorian estate just outside the city, a popular tourist destination known for its spectacular gardens. An heiress named Anna Latchmore had founded it over a hundred years earlier with the intention of creating a magical place for children to explore and learn, particularly young girls. To this day, many believe it was his acquaintance with Anna and a visit to Latchmore that inspired J.M. Barrie to create the character of Peter Pan. Some even say that the tradition of Peter being played by a girl onstage began as his tribute to Anna.

Anna’s daughter Charlotte inherited the property along with her father’s business interests while still a young girl. She never married or had children of her own, which led to speculation about her sexuality, but those sorts of rumours have always followed independent and successful women. What is clear is that, soon after Anna’s death, Charlotte Latchmore took on her mother’s vision with every bit as much dedication as she applied to her father’s business.

She was highly successful at both and, by the time she passed away in the early Eighties, had amassed a considerable fortune, expanded the gardens, and endowed a private girls’ school. Almost the entirety of the Latchmore estate went to a foundation that would ensure her mother’s dream would endure.

“Well, then,” Caroline continued, “You must have encountered the Latchmore Fairies.”

“Oh, yes. Katie adores them,” Amanda said, neglecting to mention that she was quite taken with them herself.

Something that made the gardens particularly magical was the chance that you might catch a glimpse of beautiful girls with diaphanous fairy wings, dancing and playing in the gardens. Some lucky little girls were even approached by the fairies, who would invite them to play. Even when girls grew out of believing in Santa of the Easter Bunny, many would still cling to their belief in the Latchmore Fairies, especially after seeing them in person.

Over the years, the fairies became a large part of the garden’s mythology. Even when none were seen, a little girl might walk by a patch of flowers and spot a little gift left behind, wrapped in a leaf or flower petals. Inside, there would be something like a polished stone, a pretty little acorn, a pebble of coloured glass, or an exquisitely shaped bit of wood, always accompanied by a cryptic note from the fairies — something of a cross between a fortune cookie and a horoscope — that, according to the legend, had a special meaning for the girl who found it.

These things and more made Latchmore House a rite of passage for young girls. All were welcome, too, no matter their place in the world. Anna refused to charge admission, determined that no child would miss the chance to visit the gardens just because their family was poor. A generous portion of her estate was set aside to assure that this would always be the case.

“I don’t know how much you know about the fairies,” Caroline went on. “They’re all part of a society at the foundation’s school — more like a sorority, really. As a former fairy myself, I’m able to nominate someone for a scholarship, and I think Katie is just the type of girl they’re looking for. Do you think she’d be interested in attending the school… and perhaps, one day, becoming a fairy?”

“I… I think she’d say it was a dream come true,” a dazed Amanda replied.

A scholarship to a top private school, along with the possibility of her daughter becoming a Latchmore Fairy? What a marvellous opportunity, Amanda thought. Katie will be over the moon!

Amanda was also feeling a different kind of thrill, one she kept to herself. She pictured a younger Caroline capering about the forest, scantily clad in a little fairy outfit. It was a powerfully erotic image, one that gave her butterflies in the tummy.

Ever the careful observer, Caroline noted a new glint in Amanda’s eyes as they chatted about Latchmore, especially when she mentioned having been a fairy herself. This only served to confirm her suspicions about the woman’s sexual tastes. Oh, yes, Katie’s mother is absolutely into young girls, she decided.

“Well then, I’ll go ahead and forward my recommendation…” Caroline hesitated for a moment. “And if you have questions about the school – or anything else, really,” she added with an inviting smile, “I’d love to have a drink with you sometime…”

Amanda hadn’t dated since Katie was born, but she wasn’t so oblivious as to miss the dance instructor’s meaning. She’d been thinking it might be time to pursue a relationship again, and Caroline had been in her thoughts more than a few times in that regard. She was a few years older, maybe in her late thirties, with a fit and petite body that would be the envy of many younger women, and an air of confidence and grace that Amanda couldn’t get enough of. If there was anything that excited her as much as pretty little girls, it was strong, beautiful women.

Trying not to seem too eager, Amanda nodded. “I’d really like that. I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about… and honestly, it’s been much too long since I had some girl time.”

It also occurred to her that if she was planning to date other women – especially if one of them was Katie’s teacher – she needed to sit down with her daughter sometime soon and tell the girl that she was a lesbian.

Caroline gave Amanda a dazzling smile. “Well, then, I’ll call you sometime and we can set a date.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

***

That night, as her fingers slipped between her legs, Amanda was still thinking about Caroline. In the past, she’d fantasised about being one of the woman’s students, having the ballet teacher touch her body as she helped her into different positions. Now though, her thoughts drifted to Caroline as a little schoolgirl, dressed in her fairy outfit. Could I have seen her there when I was younger?

Maybe she was there that time Aunt Eileen took me to Latchmore. God, I still remember that day and how utterly wonderful it was, thanks to that one special fairy…

That particular outing had been one of the defining moments of Amanda’s life. Whenever Latchmore crossed her mind, she wondered if that was what fairy stories meant when they told of doors to other worlds.

It was just after her ninth birthday, the day Aunt Eileen took Amanda to a special party at the estate. At her first sight of the fairies, she was instantly smitten. They had to be the most beautiful girls in the whole wide world, she decided, unable to keep herself from staring at them. The day got even better, though, when one of the girls — a fairy named Emily — picked her to dance.

Her joy was boundless as she capered and pranced with Emily, convinced that this particular angel was the loveliest of them all. Just holding hands with her made Amanda tingle from head to toe.

Once they were giddy and out of breath, Emily spirited her away to a small private alcove with a statue of what looked like a Greek goddess dancing with a fairy. They seated themselves side by side, and Emily began to tell a story.

Amanda didn’t remember much of the tale at the time, but later learned that it was about the goddess Hebe and a nymph creating ambrosia, a special nectar that brought eternal youth to the drinker. She did her best to pay attention to the story, but being in the presence of such a pretty girl was simply too distracting. Just the sweet scent of her fairy friend made Amanda light-headed.

As Emily spoke, Amanda’s eyes were drawn to the girl’s long, slim legs. They looked so smooth and soft that she found herself longing to touch them. Then Emily shifted slightly, and Amanda gasped.

Pausing in the telling of her story, Emily smiled. “What’s the matter, my sweet?”

“You – you’re not wearing panties!” Amanda exclaimed, then instantly blushed, embarrassed to have said that out loud.

For a moment she was afraid Emily would be upset, possibly even run away. In fact, she didn’t seem to mind at all. The fairy smiled sweetly and put a finger to Amanda’s mouth in a shushing gesture.

“Let’s keep that our little secret,” she said.

Making no effort to cover herself, Emily then spread her legs even wider. That gave Amanda a perfect view that no one else could see. Her heart raced as she drank in the sight of the girl’s bare sex – the first she’d ever seen, besides hers.

“Do you like looking at me?” Emily asked.

“Uh-huh,” Amanda replied, enthralled by the little girl’s nakedness. Shy as she was, she managed to add, “You’re very p-pretty.”

“You’re a very pretty girl too… and I bet your kitty is even nicer than mine,” Emily spoke in a huskier voice, slipping a hand between her legs. As her new friend watched, she explored the cleft of her sex with two fingers. “I like to touch mine sometimes, especially right here on my clitty.” She glanced up. “Do you do that, too?”

She’d never admitted it to anyone before, but Amanda couldn’t bring herself to tell Emily a lie. Slowly nodding, she whispered, “It feels good.”

Emily giggled. “It does, doesn’t it? Tell me, do you know what an orgasm is?”

Amanda shook her head. She couldn’t remember ever having heard the word.

Emily’s smile seemed to get brighter. “Tonight, when you go to bed, I want you to take your panties off, then  touch your kitty just like this.” She let her fingers trace long strokes up her slit, pausing each time to make little circles around her clitoris. “If you close your eyes and think of me while you do this, you’ll get a special surprise. Will you do that for me?”

Amanda nodded again, but her eyes remained locked on what her fairy friend was doing.

Emily slowly trailed the tips of her fingers up and down the outside of her vagina, just lightly touching herself. Soon, though, she pressed her fingers between the engorged labia and began to stroke the pink interior with a slow, steady rhythm. Very soon, her sex was glistening with wetness.

Amanda trembled as she watched Emily slide a finger inside her kitty. First up to one knuckle, then another, then all the way inside. She’d always been afraid to put anything into herself like that, but it was obvious that the girl absolutely loved it.

Emily was breathing hard and fast, then a low moan escaped her lips before she gasped, “Yes… oh, fuck, yes! Watch me, Amanda. Watch me f-fuck myself”

Shocked to hear her fairy use that word, it suddenly occurred to Amanda that this was the kind of thing that got girls in trouble, big trouble. It made her nervous, but not nearly enough to frighten her away. Instead, she squeezed her thighs together as her own panties began to moisten. She was too shy to touch herself down there, the way Emily was, but she really wanted to. Even if it was wicked.

Now Emily was moving faster, pumping two fingers deep inside her hole, making sticky wet noises with each stroke. While one hand worked her opening the other was rubbing her clit.

“Uhhh, yes! Fuck, YES!” was all Emily could get out before her breath grew too ragged to speak. The only sounds the girl could make were tiny cries of joy. Her feelings of pleasure seemed to grow more and more intense, then with one last cry of “Yes!” Emily’s body went totally rigid for a few heartbeats, then started to shiver violently.

After what seemed like a long time, Emily relaxed, took a long, deep breath, then let it out in a satisfied sigh. Amanda had never seen anything like it before. Was that an orgasm? she wondered.

Emily sat quietly for a little while, regaining her breath, but she didn’t move to cover herself. Instead, she took those now wet, sticky fingers from between her legs and put them in her mouth, purring with pleasure as she sucked them clean.

What’s that taste like? Amanda wondered. Looks like Emily really enjoys it…

As if reading her mind, Emily looked up at Amanda, then down at her kitty, then back up at Amanda. She spread her thighs even further apart, causing her slit to open slightly.

“It tastes lovely, you know,” Emily murmured. “Would you like to try it? Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Amanda nervously moistened her lips as she realised what the fairy was inviting her to do: touch the private bits of another girl. She loved the idea – yet it also frightened her. She felt a sudden impulse to run away, but forced herself to remain right where she was. Even at her tender age, Amanda knew that if she passed this chance by, it would be to her lifelong regret.

Go ahead, touch her there. She wants you to. 

Still struggling with her shyness, Amanda hesitantly reached out until she found the wet warmth of Emily’s sex, then let two fingers explore, coating them with the older girl’s creamy honey. She brought them to her mouth and took a cautious lick, then took each finger into her mouth to suck, just like Emily had done.

She’d never tasted anything like it before – not exactly sweet, but there was something about the flavour that she liked quite a lot. Would Emily let me have some more? Amanda wondered.

But before she could bring herself to ask, a bell rang somewhere.

Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, dearest… but it’s time for us to go back.” She rose to her feet, straightened her skirt, then took Amanda by the hand.

Their hands remained clasped as the girls made their way back to the park entrance, where Amanda’s aunt Eileen was seated, patiently waiting for her niece.

Goodbyes were exchanged, then when the fairy was hugging Amanda, she whispered in the younger girl’s ear, “Don’t forget about touching yourself tonight. I’ll be thinking about you and doing the same thing.” With that, Emily gave her new friend a warm kiss on the cheek.

Eileen watched the girls embrace, feeling enormously pleased at how the day had turned out. She knew without having to ask that this had been a wondrous experience for Amanda, perhaps even as lovely as her own trip to Latchmore as a little girl.

As for Amanda, it no longer mattered to her whether Emily was a real fairy or not. What counted for much more was the new kind of magic the girl had taught her. All the way home, the nine-year-old was focussed on remembering how to touch her kitty that special way, eager for the surprise Emily had promised her.

I mustn’t tell anyone about this, even Mum, she told herself. It’s bad luck to give away fairy secrets.

***

Later that night, while Aunt Eileen and her mum were downstairs talking, Amanda crawled into bed and slid her panties down, then decided to take them off completely, along with her nightie. She’d never slept naked before, and the naughtiness of it thrilled her.

Amanda pictured Emily, her fairy, with her beautiful face, flowing auburn hair, and slender body sitting beside her on the bed. She tried to imagine Emily reaching out to take her hand, their fingers intertwining, and offer to show her just where to touch. She could almost hear the fairy’s soft voice saying, You’re such a sweet little girl, Amanda, and so pretty… I’d love to help you get your surprise.

Spreading her legs, she felt Emily guide her hand as she began to touch herself. She was gentle at first, almost tickling. Her fingers slid across her tummy, down her legs, then with long strokes up and down her inner thighs until those lovely butterfly feelings started, only stronger this time.

From there, Amanda moved to the outside of her kitty – touching lightly, then doing it a little bit harder. She remembered touching Emily, how soft and nice the girl felt down there. Would Emily like to touch me that way? she wondered.

As she caressed herself, Amanda quickly noticed how tiny differences in pressure or the rhythm of her strokes completely changed how it felt. She experimented with touch, working to learn what she liked best.

Letting a finger slide between her lips, she trailed it down to her little hole. Even if it wasn’t as wet and juicy as Emily’s, her kitty was moist enough to make the task an easy one. It’s working so far, she thought.

Once her fingers were coated with juices, she brought them to her lips, sampling the thick, rich flavour. The taste wasn’t exactly like Emily’s, but she liked it every bit as much.

Reaching back between her legs, Amanda circled her opening for a few moments, then carefully eased a finger inside the warmth of her vagina. She didn’t feel ready to add another, not just yet. She withdrew her finger almost completely but for the tip, then slid it back in, penetrating herself with a slow, steady stroke. It felt good, a rippling surge of pleasure that awakened in her tummy, then flowed outward.

Bringing the other hand into play, she coated those fingers in her fluids, then began to explore her vulva – first around the hole, gradually moving higher. She’d always avoided contact with what Emily referred to as her clitty. The few times she brushed against that bit, it gave her something similar to an electric shock. It wasn’t as bad as getting shocked for real, like that time she was playing with her daddy’s reading lamp,  but the intensity of it had always unnerved Amanda.

This time, though, she was determined to feel all of it, no matter what. It’s my fairy surprise, she reminded herself. Emily wouldn’t ask me to do anything that hurts. 

Bracing herself, she let her fingers wander a little higher, almost yanking her hand away when she felt the first jolt. She managed not to, though. Okay, it’s still kind of scary, but Emily would want me to be brave, right? Besides, it’s more like a nice feeling, just really, really strong.

Amanda gave her clitoris a tiny flick, her eyes going wide at how amazing it felt. The lightest of caresses was enough to make her whole body quiver. She experimented with different kinds of touch, soon figuring out that what she liked best was to press down on the tiny bump and rub it in little circles.

She pictured Emily touching her this way and, with that beautiful image in her mind, a surge of pleasure rolled through her body. She nearly cried out loud, but just barely managed to stifle it in time. She was on the edge of something amazing and knew it was her surprise.

It wasn’t scary anymore. Amanda wanted it now, more than ever. She just had to keep rubbing herself in the right place. A few more strokes of her fingers were all it took, then it happened. Her body convulsed with wave after wave of pure ecstasy, the entire universe collapsing into this one bright moment. Was this really happening, or was lost in some beautiful dream?

Eventually, she could breathe again. Her sex was still pulsing, but too sensitive to touch, so she settled for gently resting both hands on her vulva. A great sense of peace filled the girl – in fact, Amanda couldn’t recall ever being so relaxed in her life, so perfectly at home in her own body.

Amanda was proud of what she’d done, and hoped that somehow Emily knew how wonderful the fairy’s gift had been for her. She was going to touch herself tonight and think about me, she remembered. Wish we could’ve done it together.

She lay quietly for a long while, then finally opened her eyes. Amanda yelped at what she saw, her thin frame jerking violently.

Aunt Eileen was standing next to her bed in powder-blue pyjamas, gazing down at her niece. And there Amanda was, spread out on the bed completely naked, touching her kitty with both hands.

She knew she was in trouble. Covering herself as best she could, she sat up, tears welling in her eyes. “I – I’m so s-sorry,” Amanda stammered. “Please don’t tell Mummy!”

Seating herself on the edge of the bed, Eileen drew her niece into a comforting embrace. “Don’t worry, little one,” she murmured. “It’s okay. This can be our secret if you want, but you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“You… you’re not mad?”

Eileen smiled. “Not at all, love. In fact, I’m happy for you… it means you’re becoming a woman.”

“Really?” She nestled deeper into her aunt’s arms, resting her cheek against the woman’s generous breast. Her tears were forgotten, swallowed up by the love she felt.

“Of course, little one. We all touch ourselves, you know. Perhaps it was wrong for me to have watched, but it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She gave the girl a little tickle under her chin. “Was that your first orgasm?”

Now that she knew what the word meant, Amanda felt a renewed sense of pride. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you enjoy it, then?”

“Oh, sooooo much!” Amanda squealed. “It was the, the best thing ever!”

Eileen nodded, tenderly stroking her niece’s bare back. “You’re a very lucky girl, Manda. I had to wait a lot longer for my first orgasm.”

“So you do it too, huh?”

“Almost every night,” Aunt Eileen said, then whispered, “All big girls do. Even your mum.”

“Mummy does?” Amanda giggled to hear that secret. She loved the idea of it – her mother and her aunt, pleasuring themselves just as she had. “So… are they always that good?”

“Orgasms are almost always good…” Still cradling the nude little girl in her arms, she gave Amanda a playful kiss on the nose. “But with a little practice, you can make them amazing.”

Amanda hugged her aunt tightly. It felt so good to hold her. Auntie Eileen’s body was different from that of Emily, but she loved it. Warm and soft in all the right places and as comfy as her old teddy bear, and warmer, nicer smelling. And she had lovely titties, the biggest the nine-year-old had ever seen. Even before she reached puberty, Amanda had dreamed of having breasts like Eileen’s when she grew up.

As she snuggled with her aunt, that tingling feeling began to make itself known again. That’s when Amanda got a very interesting idea…

“I don’t mind you watching me,” Amanda said. “Did you really think it was beautiful?”

Gazing into the little girl’s eyes, Eileen murmured, “I think you are beautiful, sweetie.”

“Auntie?” Amanda said, suddenly looking away. She could feel herself blush. “Can I ask you to, um, do something for me?”

“You can ask me anything, love.” Eileen’s hands were resting on Amanda’s hips.

“Could I m-maybe watch you touch yourself sometime? So I can, um, learn how to do it better? I mean… Well, you got to watch me, right?”

The woman gave a thoughtful nod. “You know, that does seem fair.” Bending down, she gave the girl a kiss.

Amanda’s heart began to throb when the kiss lingered, Aunt Eileen’s mouth soft as a whisper against hers. Then the woman’s lips parted, and those tender kisses began to travel – touching the corner of Amanda’s mouth, her lower lip, then dipping down to caress her chin.

Lost in this impossibly sweet kiss, the child failed to notice right away that Aunt Eileen’s hands had slipped down to cradle her bare bottom, but she reacted with an astonished cry when the older woman fondled her there, fingertips edging teasingly close to the cleft of her bum.

Amanda had no idea why her own aunt was kissing and touching her that way, but she loved it too much to care. Somehow, it seemed as if she’d always wanted something like this without even knowing. It felt so good, so right.

Now Auntie Eileen’s mouth had returned to hers, only this time her tongue had emerged to play. Amanda gasped in awe, her lips parting – and that soft, sweet tongue dipped into the girl’s mouth for an instant.

What’s happening? Amanda asked herself, dizzy with excitement. She didn’t know, but it was wonderful, even more than the delights she’d sampled with her fairy. Suddenly, she imagined kissing Emily this way, and a rush of warmth surged through her slender frame.

That chain of thought was interrupted when her aunt broke away to smile down at her niece. Amanda gaped back – unable to summon up words, much less voice them.

“So, little one… you’ve learned how to give yourself pleasure,” Eileen began. “Now, you need to know how to share pleasure… to experience those good feelings with someone else.”

That delicious warmth in Amanda’s tummy had returned, even stronger this time – as if the orgasm she’d given herself moments ago had never happened. “S-someone else…?” she whispered.

Her aunt nodded. “Like that adorable little fairy you were with today… what was her name?”

“Um, Emily.”

“Emily, that’s right. Imagine her making love to you – touching your body, kissing your pretty mouth… wouldn’t you like to know how to give her those same nice feelings?”

Lost in her aunt’s warm, friendly eyes, Amanda only knew one possible answer. “Yes,” she answered, “yes, I do!”

That smile again. “I can teach you, love,” Eileen murmured. “If you want me to.”

Amanda began to nod before the woman had finished speaking. “Yes, auntie, please!” the nine-year-old blurted. “Teach me everything. I – I want to know!”

Without another word, Eileen gently untangled herself from their embrace. She rose to her feet, then began to unbutton her pyjama top.

As she watched her aunt undress, Amanda’s hand found its way between her thighs, though she wasn’t conscious of it at first. Her sex was pulsing with need, and she applied pressure there with three fingers. A shaky sigh escaped the girl’s lips when Eileen slipped out of the top, baring her breasts.

Letting the garment fall to the carpet, Amanda’s aunt reached for the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. She pushed them over her shapely hips, then they slid down to ring her ankles. She wore no panties, and her pubic thatch was thick and full.

Amanda was now masturbating, thighs closed around her busy fingers.

Eileen stepped out of the bottoms, then did a slow pirouette, putting herself on display for her niece. She drew closer to the bed, pausing to observe Amanda’s excitement.

“Got room in there for me?” she said, casually rolling a nipple between finger and thumb.

Seizing the top edge of the quilt, Amanda wriggled underneath while scooting over to the left side of the bed. Once in place, the grinning girl held the heavy blanket up in open invitation. “Lots of room!” she said.

“Why, thank you, love,” Eileen murmured, climbing inside. She took the naked little girl into her arms, and they nestled together.

“I love you, Auntie Eileen,” Amanda breathed.

“I love you, little one,” Eileen replied. “And I’m going to show you how much.” Lightly tracing the child’s lips with a finger, she moved in to claim Amanda’s mouth in a kiss.

On to Chapter Two!

Go here for a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” To get a thumbnail summary of the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

There we were, a party gathering of girls and women – all of us gay, all completely naked, unwinding after an afternoon of non-stop sex by watching lesbian porn. Reading those words now, I guess the whole situation seems kind of funny, but at the time it was quite exciting. I’d already seen everyone in the room having sex, even if I hadn’t yet fucked them all myself… but somehow, I’d not gotten around to investigating porn yet.

Mom, the other grownups and Henri were occupying the two sofas, while the rest of us were seated or sprawled out on the carpet, mostly using these big, colourful cushions that were strewn about. The young ones sat cross-legged in front of the TV as if they were about to watch a Disney movie.

Of course, what we got was anything but family entertainment. When the opening credits of the film rolled along with footage of a gorgeous naked girl fingering herself I got butterflies in my tummy,  and my pussy started to throb.

The film was called The Rendezvous. The plot barely existed, but it was about a bunch of insanely sexy married women who carried out lesbian relationships in secret. They were sneaking out without their husbands – in one case, parents – intent on meeting up with their female lovers. There was six of these women, and I’d have happily fucked any or all of them.

I shifted about and got more comfortable by leaning back against the front of the sofa, between Mum’s spread legs, where I immediately began to play with myself. Some of the others had already started, including Kiki, who slipped down from her place on the couch to sit next to me. She was using her right hand to masturbate and, without looking away from the screen, casually reached over with her left to play with my pussy. Even left-handed, Kiki knew how to make me feel incredible.

The movie settled into a pattern or sorts where two of the ladies would get together, undress and then fuck. I don’t know if Mum’s mention of sex toys earlier was a coincidence or if she did it deliberately, but there were a few shocked looks from me, Mia, Lilly and Evie when this sexy brunette with an impressive set of boobs took out a huge dildo when she was with a blonde teenage girl.

“Oh, wow… is she going to put that inside her?” asked Lilly.

“Yes, sweetie,” Mum replied.

I was amazed, thinking there was no way that slip of a girl could take something so big into her vagina. Any other time I’d have thought Mum was joking, but she never jokes about sex stuff like that.

Sure enough, the massive dildo went pretty much all the way inside the girl. And the brunette woman didn’t go easy either. Oh, she took it easy going in, but then she was plunging it in and out really hard and fast. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. The blonde girl looked like she was loving it, too – she was screaming, “Oh God, yes! Fuck me, fuck me!” as she came. I had an orgasm soon after that. It was so intense that I accidentally kicked Henri who was lying in front of me, lost in her own ecstasy.

As the film continued, it got into sex toys in a big way, different types of dildos and vibrators used in various combinations between the lesbian lovers. I was particularly interested in the double ended dildo, because you could rub pussies while you were fucking. I was picturing using one of those with Mia when I came for the second time.

Joining Mum on the sofa, I asked her loads of questions about the film, and she answered them all as best she could. I was disappointed to learn that the women weren’t real-life lovers, but professional actresses who in all likelihood just met that day and were faking orgasms for the camera. Mum said she would seek out some real-life lesbian stuff on the internet for me, but that I wasn’t to look myself as there were lots of things there that I wouldn’t want to see. I knew she meant naked men, penises and such. She was right, I didn’t want to see any of that, just the nice girly stuff.

Mum told me that some dildos are made to look like real cocks and some aren‘t. Most men are nowhere near as big as the dildos in the films, she explained. Apparently a few really are that big, but it’s rare. It didn’t matter to me – I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in real penises, large or small.

As for using a dildo myself, I decided that I had to think about that. I mean, it looked like a man’s willy… but it’s not part of a real man, just plastic. I pondered the idea. If I put a fake penis inside me, does that mean I’m not really a lesbian? I knew Mum would say it didn’t matter, I should do what I want. Still, it was the first thing I’d come across involving sex that made me stop and think. Until then, I’d happily thrown myself headfirst into every new opportunity that arose, but my gay identity meant so much to me that I didn’t want to do anything that might compromise it.

I was also curious as to whether a dildo could actually fit inside my vagina. Obviously, I couldn’t take one the size of that monster the blonde teen in the film had been fucked by, but Mum assured me that sex toys came in all kind of lengths and thicknesses. “We’ll shop online and find something that’s just right for a girl your age,” she told me.

When Lilly heard that, she broke away from kissing Evie and gave Mum her best puppy-dog gaze. “What about me, Mum? Can I have a sex toy, too?”

Everyone laughed, and my sister blushed a little, but Mum said, “Of course, sweetie.”

“Cool!” Lilly squealed, then went right back to kissing Evie. Funny thing – the two littlest girls at the party were the ones who seemed the least interested in the porn film. I guess that to them, sex itself was still such a magical, wondrous thing that you didn’t need to watch two strangers doing it on a TV screen.

I was beginning to feel the same way, actually. The women on the TV were sexy and I was learning a lot from watching them, but my attention was getting drawn back into the room. There was already kissing and touching going on, and I could feel the sexual tension going up a notch. It was clear that the lovemaking on the screen was putting us in the mood for more than just masturbating.

The little ones were cuddling when Mum caught Evie’s eye. She patted her lap with both hands, then Evie eagerly hopped up and crawled into my mother’s waiting arms. When Kiki saw that, she crooked a finger at Lilly, who climbed right into her lap. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think they’d had sex yet. I’d no doubt that Kiki was about to put that right, though.

Having Evie next to me on Mum’s lap was the perfect opportunity for me to make love to this adorable girl of seven for the first time. After that, the only person in the room I’d not fucked yet was Beth. Not that I was keeping track or anything, but I hoped to have it off with every female there at least once before turning in for the evening.

Evie may have been a child, but she was no fool. She knew what Mum wanted, and had both legs spread wide apart, putting her pussy on full display. Licking her fingers, Mum gently teased Evie’s nipples, making her wriggle about and squeal with delight.

I had to be part of this. First I gave Mum a deep, passionate kiss, then did the same to Evie, seeking out her tongue with mine. It was incredible. From the first time I’d made out with my younger sister, I knew that kissing little girls was the absolute best, and Evie was even better at it than Lilly.

Finally breaking away, I started touching Evie, stroking her legs and tummy. When I got a bit lower down, I paused in mid-caress. “Um, Evie… is it okay if I touch your pussy?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, giving me an angelic smile.

I looked across the room to Nicole, and when her eyes met mine I mouthed the words, ‘Is this okay?’ and placed my hand on Evie’s mound. She replied with a nod and a wink.

“Well done, sweetie,” Mum said.

The cleft of Evie’s slit was warm, moist and silky smooth. She was leaning back into Mum, half in a daze as I fondled her. I wanted to do more than touch, though.

Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, I whispered, “Um, Evie, would it be okay if I licked your pussy? I’d like to make you come.”

Evie gave me a happy smile. “Yes, please! I love being licked. Lilly is ‘specially good at it.”

It made me feel warm inside, knowing she and Lilly were so into each other. How many girls were lucky enough to have an honest-to-goodness lover at the age of seven?

Mum shifted about a little bit, giving me easy access to Evie’s cunt. I intended to be down there for some time, so I grabbed a cushion and slipped it under my knees.

The sight of that bare pink pussy and its heady scent made my mouth water, but just as I was about to lean in and take that first lick. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked around to see Beth sitting next to me. “Hey, Poppy, can I lay my head down here?” she said, patting the cushion I’d just put on the floor.

I was confused. What was she asking for? “Um…”

I guess Beth could see I was a bit confused. She quickly added, “You know, so I can lick your pussy while you’re, um, doing it to Evie.”

“Oh, sure! Sorry, I’m with you now. Um, yeah, I’d love to sit on your face!”

Beth quickly arranged herself on the cushion, getting ready to taste me. So that was that. I hadn’t even kissed the girl, and there I was looking down at those gorgeous green eyes and that pretty red hair. She smiled sweetly as I lowered myself to her open mouth, then went to work on me with an eager tongue.

In the meantime, Mum had placed Evie perfectly so the girl’s vagina was positioned just above hers. I hadn’t realised I’d be able to reach both so easily. Two sweet lovers for me to kiss and lick – what fun!

When I first began to have sex with my sister Lilly, Mum told me to be extra careful fingering her because she was so young. I assumed the same advice applied to Evie, so I just teased the entrance of her hole with my tongue and fingers, concentrating on her clit. But I could finger fuck Mum as hard and deep as I liked. What a wonderful experience that was – pleasing my mother and a little girl at the same time, all the while having my own cunt seen to by a dead sexy twelve-year-old. I felt like the Queen of All Lesbians.

Beth certainly knew what she was doing down there… of course, she’d eaten pussy many times before. She attacked my clit with her tongue, keeping a constant, unrelenting rhythm going that seemed to beat in my head like a dance record. It wasn’t easy, but I tried to focus my attention on Evie, who was sharing a deep tongue kiss with Mum. That got me especially hot, watching my mother make love to a little girl.

I continued to go down on Evie and Mum – switching from one pussy to the other, pleasuring them with my fingers or my mouth. Before very long, Evie came. She was panting and moaning, her body shivering as if she was having some kind of fit. It was something to see.

I got her off just in time, too, because Beth’s efforts between my legs were doing my head in. I couldn’t keep licking anymore, could barely think. Resting my cheek on Evie’s tummy, I gasped my way through a real wall-shaker of an orgasm. I was grinding down hard on Beth’s face, sweating so much that I had to have been dripping all over Evie. She didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, she was cradling my head in her little arms, whispering sweet things like, “You’re so nice, so pretty. I love you, Poppy…”

Luckily, Beth stopped fucking me before I went stark raving mental, though it was a close thing. Once she’d withdrawn and I got my breath back, I glanced over my shoulder and realised that Kiki was behind Beth, licking her bumhole. Lilly was stretched out on the carpet with Kiki straddling her face.

The others weren’t idle either. Henri, Mia, Lottie, Nicole and Emma were all down on the floor having an orgy of their own. Emma seemed to be in the middle of what was a sweaty tangle of bodies, each participant licking, kissing, stroking and clawing at whatever available body part they could reach.

Looking up from Beth’s arse, Kiki twisted round for a look at the action, then turned back to us with a big smile. “Well, ladies,” she said, “why don’t we turn these two little sex parties into a big one?”

Everyone liked this idea, so we moved to join the others on the floor. I went for the nearest pussy at hand, which was Lottie’s. She had Mia riding her face and Henri was sort of lying on her, so there was no way she could know it was me down there. As I got to work on Lottie, someone’s tongue appeared between my legs. I could have moved to see who it was, but I liked not knowing – it felt naughtier that way.

The all-out sexfest of four mums, two teens and five little girls went on for a long while. Every now and then I’d take a break and catch my breath before diving back in. Others did the same, and odd little conversations broke out here and there. In one such break, I was talking to Henri while everyone else was fucking in front of us.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked. She was seated, and I was lying with my head in her lap.

“You know you can ask me anything you want, love.”

“Do you use sex toys?”

“Oh, of course.”

“Which ones?”

“Depends on my mood. For the most part, I prefer fingers and tongues, that’s so much more intimate. I’ve got a little bullet vibrator that’s a lot of fun. It’s waterproof, so I can use it in the shower.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, so Henri told me what a bullet vibrator was and how it worked.

I wanted to know more, though. “Do you ever use dildos?”

“Yeah, occasionally.”

“What, the really big ones?”

“Well, I’ve tried the bigger ones… but honestly, I prefer something smaller. Rabbits are a lot of fun. If your mum lets you pick out a toy for yourself, that’s the one you should go for.” Another explanation followed, this time about rabbit vibrators and how they worked.

I was still thinking about how it would be to get penetrated for real, though. “Do you think I might be able to use a dildo?”

Henri clucked her tongue. “Poppy, you really need to ask your mum about that.”

“Oh, I’ve spoken to Mum… she said we’d talk about it at the right time. I was just curious if you thought one would actually, you know, fit inside me.”

“You’re very young, Poppy, maybe too young. Fingers and tongues are fine, but you should be careful – the bigger stuff might injure you. But, if your mum is there and you go slow, you could take something small and see how it feels, then work your way up.”

At that point Evie caught my eye, having just returned from a quick trip to the loo. Now that she was back, Henri and I got her down on the floor and we rejoined the orgy. I positioned Evie so that I could get my mouth on her cunt, then thrust my bum out, giving Henri access to both my holes.

When I ran my tongue along Evie’s slit I could taste where the little girl hadn’t wiped herself properly. Far from being disgusted, I thought of Kiki and how much she would have enjoyed it. I can’t say it gave me a massive craving to have someone pee in my mouth, the way Kiki sometimes did – but it didn’t completely turn me off, either.

After I made Evie come, she and Lilly were both utterly knackered. Lilly climbed onto the sofa, Evie joined her, and they nestled together, soon falling asleep. Mum and Nicole carried the girls to the spare room and tucked them in, then our little sex party got cracking again.

However, the intensity had diminished somewhat – it became more loving, less frenzied. More people were resting and snacking than actually fucking, and before long we settled down into groups and pairs that were cuddled up together. It wasn’t cold at all, mind you – for such a big space, Kiki’s living room was very nicely heated, especially with the fire blazing nearby. Still, to make us feel even cosier Kiki opened this big storage ottoman, took out a bunch of super soft fluffy blankets and passed them round. She put on some soft music called bossa nova that I liked a lot, then offered to make everyone hot chocolate, but we all insisted she sit down and relax with us.

We were all in a delightfully mellow mood, our minds and bodies warmed by the afterglow of all the yummy orgasms we’d shared. I was nestled under a blanket with Mia, telling her about Kiki and how much she enjoyed watersports. Mia had never done anything like that, but didn’t think it was at all odd.

“Do you think your mum has ever tried it?” I asked her. “Or Lottie?”

“Getting peed on? Hmmm… I don’t know. They’ve never told me about anything like that. I can ask, if you like.”

I was just about to reply, but then I heard Kiki say, “Poppy darling, when is your birthday?”

“Next month… the eleventh,” I replied.

Kiki’s eyes widened. “November the eleventh? That’s Remembrance Sunday.”

“Um, what’s that about?” Mia asked. “Something important, but I can’t remember.”

I turned to Mia. “It’s the day they pay tribute, you know, say thanks to the soldiers who fought in the big wars. They lay poppies at memorials and people wear them and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. Mum always buys us poppies that day,” said Mia.

I had to laugh. “When I was little, every time I saw people wearing them, I thought they were doing it for me, ‘cos it was my birthday. I got so upset when Mum told me what they were really for!”

“Aw, that’s cute,” said Nicole.

Mum spoke up. “Poppy was born just before 11 AM and stayed quiet for the three-minute silence, then she started screaming her lungs out! After that, I couldn’t think of a better name to give her.”

“Well, it’s only, let’s see… less than four weeks away,” Kiki said. “Have you got anything planned?”

“We’ve not spoken about it much, have we, sweetie?”

“Not really. I’m not sure what I want to do that day, really.”

“So you’ll be turning eleven, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month… and there are eleven of us here right now. Spooky, huh?” said Lottie.

“Bloody hell… That’s mad, it is!” I exclaimed, perhaps a little carried away.

“The Mad Eleven,” Kiki said. “That’s us, isn’t it? A gang of crazy lesbians.”

“And M-A-D, that stands for mothers and daughters!” Mia exclaimed. She loved to do word puzzles in her spare time, so figuring out something like that was second nature to her.

“Oh bravo, girls! That’s it. Henceforth we shall be known as the MAD Eleven,” said Kiki. “Tomorrow we’ll have a group photo, and I’ll get it framed.”

“Will we be naked in the photo?” I asked.

“No sweetie, we’ll have to wear clothes,” said Mum. “We might end up in a lot of trouble if anyone saw something like that.”

Then Kiki said, “I don’t see why we can’t pose nude, Heather. I’ll print it out myself, and I’ve got a spare frame that’ll be just perfect. I’ll hang it in my bedroom. I can’t imagine anyone I don’t trust ever being invited in there.”

“Well, I’m up for it,” said Emma, “I’ve got two pictures in my bedroom of Beth and me, from when we were naked on the beach in Portugal last year.”

“Oh, hell… why not?” said Mum.

I was thrilled to bits. We were all going to be in a naked photo together! There were a few concerns expressed around the room about wobbly bits and stretch marks, but everyone seemed keen on the idea.

“What’s that up there? Is it a guitar case?” Mia asked Kiki, pointing up to the small mezzanine floor above the kitchen. A set of spiral stairs led up to an open area with a rail for safety. There was a PC up there with a small desk and comfy chair, also a sofa. Henri sometimes went there to play video games, but otherwise they didn’t use that space very much. And yes, tucked away in the corner was a dark shape that looked a lot like a guitar case.

“Yes, it’s an acoustic guitar,” answered Kiki.

Mia seemed very interested. “Do you play, then?”

“No,” Kiki replied with a shake of the head. “I thought Henri might want to learn, but she never took to it.”

“Um… can I have a look at it, please?”

“Of course.” Kiki went upstairs to fetch the case, then brought it down. “Do you play?” she asked, handing the case to Mia.

“Uh-huh,” Mia said calmly as she withdrew the guitar. Resting it on her bare thighs, she plucked at a few strings. Even to my untrained ear, it didn’t sound right. But she fiddled with the little peg things on the end as she kept testing the strings, and it gradually began to sound more like music.

Nicole was smiling from ear to ear, “Mia would never tell you thIs, but she’s very talented; she loves to play and sing. Will you please do a song for us, baby?”

Mia made a face. “Aw, Mum… I’m okay with playing, but don’t ask me to sing.”

“But you’ve got such a lovely voice, and we’re all friends here,” Nicole said.

Mia didn’t respond, just continued to adjust the strings. I knew she had a good voice, because we’d sing along to our favourite songs in my bedroom. I’d not heard her play before, though.

Nicole turned to me, all smiles. “Poppy, maybe if you ask Mia to, she might sing for us.” Mia shot her mum a dirty look when she said that.

On one hand, I didn’t want to embarrass my girlfriend… but on the other hand, I really did want to hear her sing. “Please Mia, for me?” I said. “Just one little song?” I was being as flirty with her as I was able, even fluttering my eyelashes. Unable to remain grumpy, Mia began to giggle in spite of herself.

“Okay, okay, you win,” she finally said. “There is one song I’ve been working on. I’ve never played it to anyone before because, well, erm… anyhow, here it is. It’s dedicated to Poppy.”

“To me?” I wasn’t expecting that.

She smiled, “I know you like the song, too. It’s ‘Chasing Cars’.”

“By Snow Patrol?” Mum asked.

Mia nodded and started playing. She was nude, of course, sitting cross-legged with the fire roaring away behind her and all of us gathered around. I had a front-row seat right in front of her. The guitar looked huge against her thin frame as she deftly plucked away at the strings. I stared at her in awe, surprised by how good Mia was at this – not just passable but really, really good.

I’d heard the song many times before, and like most people had sung along with the chorus without really giving much thought to what the lyrics meant. Now Mia, my love, was singing these beautiful words to me and they took on a new significance. And her voice was positively angelic. My heart was melting fast and I was desperately trying to keep it together, but I knew I’d be crying soon.

Then she sang the second verse, all the while looking at me with her beautiful grey eyes.

I don’t quite know
How to say
How I feel
Those three words
Are said too much
They’re not enough
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Well, that was me gone. The dam burst and I began to cry. Lottie put her arm around me, and when I looked at her she was crying too. We all sang the last chorus together and when it ended Mia put the guitar down and fell into my arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room; all the others were clapping and cheering as we knelt there naked, sobbing into each other’s arms and whispering ‘I love you,’ between gasps of breath.

“That was so beautiful… thank you,” I told her when we’d calmed down a bit.

Mia gave a little shrug. “I already liked the song, but then one day I heard it on the radio and it made me think of you, so I learned it. Gosh, when you started crying, I didn’t think I’d make it to the end!”

“You were so brilliant! I want to hear it again – not now, but another time.” Right after we make love, I was thinking.

“It’s your song… you can hear it whenever you like,” she said, then we kissed.

Mia’s song seemed to put a period on the evening’s festivities. After that, Mum stood up and stretched, then some of the others did the same, gathering up their things. I didn’t feel like moving, so Mia and I curled up under the blanket and proceeded to say ‘I love you’ to each other at least a hundred times.

“Let’s sleep here by the fire tonight,” she told me.

I loved the idea, so we got all the beanbags and cushions and a couple of blankets and made a nice snug little den before the hearth. Lottie and Henri liked the idea, and they nestled together on one of the sofas. I guess Mum was in the mood for more time with the little ones, because she spirited Lilly and Evie off to one of the guest rooms. Kiki chose to spend the night with Beth in the master bedroom, and Emma took Nicole by the hand and led her off to share the bed in Henri’s room. (That’s actually more of a spare room, as Henri mostly sleeps with her mum.)

Mia dozed off fairly quickly, but I laid awake for a few minutes longer, thinking about the wonderful day I’d had. There were so many special memories to savour, but I decided that being sung to by Mia and lying with her by the fire right then was the best part. I’d never felt so loved or in love before.

***

Lilly and Evie woke us up painfully early the next day. When they scampered into the living room shrieking with laughter, Lottie threw a cushion at them and told them, “Bugger off, for fuck’s sake,” then pulled the blanket over herself and Henri. That was a foolhardy move, because the little ones decided to make a game of it. Screaming even louder, they threw the cushion straight back at the older girls, along with a couple of pillows they snatched from the cosy nest Mia and I had built.

It wasn’t long before a pillow fight broke out, which thrilled Lilly and Evie no end… and soon enough, the rest of us were caught up in the skirmish. Turns out it’s awfully thrilling, waking up to a pillow fight with a bunch of beautiful naked girls. Eventually we were all out of breath, so Mia and I crawled back under the blankets, where the little ones joined us, while Henri and Lottie climbed back onto the sofa, where they lay in each other’s arms. We put cartoons on the telly and snuggled until the rest of the house woke up.

Nicole and Emma both had to leave straight after breakfast, so everyone got showered and ready for the nude group photo before we ate. You’d have thought the queen was coming to tea, the way everyone was fussing over their hair and make-up. I was satisfied with a shower and running a brush through my hair.

Once we were ready, Henri set the camera up on her iPhone with a timer. We grouped ourselves by the fireplace, the girls sitting and kneeling in front of the adults and Lottie. We were laughing and giggling, thrilled to be posing naked.

“Gosh, this feels awfully naughty,” said a grinning Kiki, as if she was reading my mind.

Henri hit the timer, then ran back, knelt down and said, “Everyone say ‘PUSSY!’” Which we all did, amidst raucous laughter.

Not satisfied with her first effort, Henri took two more before she got the right shot, with all of us chanting ‘pussy’ each time. When Henri declared the last shot to be satisfactory, we all gathered around the phone to see how we looked. It was a marvellous photo, all those adults and teens and kids, naked and smiling, clearly having a wonderful time.

For safety’s sake we agreed that there should only be one copy of the picture, which Kiki would keep in her home. She would print the photo herself, then delete the image from her daughter’s phone.

“Where will you hang it?” asked Emma.

“In the bedroom, I think – I’m not sure. I’m going to put a little bit underneath that says ‘The MAD Eleven’. If anyone sees it, which they won’t, I’ll just say we’re part of Emma’s naturist club.”

“That would work,” Emma said. “They’ve got nude group portraits on the wall of the clubhouse at the naturist retreat Beth and I go to.”

All too soon, it was time for Emma, Nicole and their daughters to leave. Mum said we were in no rush, though, so we stayed with Kiki and Henri. It felt very weird, half of us naked and the other half fully dressed. Lilly cried when Evie left, which set Mum off, and the rest of us also shed a few tears. Promises were made that the MAD Eleven club would meet again soon.

Once the goodbyes were said and our party reduced to five, we went out to the jacuzzi to relax. Naturally, the chatter was mostly about the previous night and how amazing it had been. There were no complaints, not a single one. We all agreed, the party had been a stonking success.

Kiki turned to me. “So what are we going to do about your birthday, young lady?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“Oh, come now… you ate my cunt half a dozen times last night, and now you’re being bashful? Tell us what you’d like to do, darling. I can see it in your face, you’ve got something of an idea.”

Honestly, I wasn’t being shy – I had no idea what I wanted to do for my birthday. Kiki was being bossy but in a funny way, so I played along, curious as to where this was leading. “Erm, see what in my face?” I said, then fluttered my eyelashes, putting on what I hoped was a sexy pout.

Kiki guffawed with glee. “Ha! There, you see? The sexy wolf in the cute sheep’s clothing. Watch out for that one,” she said to Lilly, then winked. My sister seemed to take her literally and looked my way, her eyes warm with desire.

“My darling Poppy,” Kiki continued, “if you really can’t see the obvious solution, then I’ll point it out. We’ll  have a party here with the MAD Eleven, and have loads of sexy fun spoiling the birthday girl.”

I replied “Okay. First, I’m a complete tosser for not thinking of that myself. Second, OH MY GOD, are you SERIOUS? Yes, absolutely YES!” Then I remembered my manners. “Um… please!” I added with a big cheesy grin.

Kiki chuckled. “Now, that sounds like a vote of confidence. What do you think, Heather?”

“Oh… I suspect Poppy would throttle me if I dared to say no. Seriously though, it’s a great idea. You have to let me pay though. I insist.”

“This should be interesting,” laughed Henri, “but you may as well forget it, Heather. Mum never lets anyone else pay!”

Kiki gave her daughter a sharp look, but didn’t reply. “Heather, I’m not taking your money for a few trifling drinks and some nibbles. Henri and I are delighted that you and your girls are part of our lives. Truth is, if it wasn’t Poppy’s birthday I would have invited the lot of you over anyway. I’m already looking forward to getting our little fuck club together again.”

“She’s got you there, Mum,” I chipped in.

Mum sighed. “I’m not going to win here, am I?” Everyone shook their heads. “Then I’ll concede defeat, but at least let’s call it your birthday present to Poppy, okay?

“Those are acceptable terms, darling,” Kiki said, giving Mum’s thigh a squeeze.

“Can I maybe have my birthday party here?” Lilly asked.

“Oh, honey, it’s a long way off and…” Mum began, but Kiki was having none of it and cut her off.

“Lilly, darling… of course you can have your party here. Have a think about what you’d like, and we’ll throw the best bash you ever saw.” Then she gave my sister a big sloppy kiss.

Lily eagerly responded, her tongue flickering between Kiki’s parted lips. When they finally broke apart, she declared, “I already know what I want.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

Spreading her arms wide, Lily cried, “I want a pussy party!” then burst into giggles.

“HA! Then a pussy party you shall have, my love! Oh, you wonderful child, come here. I have to play with you some more.” Lilly crawled into Kiki’s lap and they cuddled and kissed for a bit. It was very sweet to watch. For a grownup, Kiki is incredibly playful.

“My apologies…” she continued, tickling Lilly’s pussy with two fingers, which made my little sister squeal and giggle. “This little minx is distracting me. Now where were we… ah yes, Poppy’s party. Any ideas on a theme, young lady?”

“Erm, not really. I’ve not had a birthday party since I was very little.”

“How about making it fancy dress?” said Henri.

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Mum.

“Hmmm, interesting. Your young lady likes to be on display, does she not?” said Kiki in that deliciously posh voice of hers.

“Poppy does have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her, yes. So… what did you have in mind?”

Kiki gave me a mischievous look, then told Mum. “I’ll speak to you about this when the birthday girl can’t hear us. Basically, there’s a little prep work you’ll need to do.”

“I’m intrigued,” said Mum.

I spoke up. “Me too! You mean that’s it – I won’t know any more about my birthday until it happens?”

“Yup,” said Kiki, quite smugly.

“Damn. That’s tough!” said Henri with a chuckle.

I slumped back, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. “Ooouugghh… I’m going to die of curiosity before we ever get to my birthday,” I moaned, putting on a big fake pout. The truth was that I didn’t really want to know at all. I adore being surprised.

Then Lilly did the sweetest thing. Getting out of Kiki’s lap, she came over and gave me a big hug and a kiss. “If you don’t know what’s going to happen,” she told me, “then I won’t know either.”

“Aw, yeah. Thanks, sis! We can pester Mum about it together, you and me!”

“YEAH! We can lick her pussy until she screams, and not stop licking till she tells us the secret!” We all burst out laughing when she said that.

Shaking her head, Mum said, “God help me, I’m doomed.” Then everyone laughed again.

It was just one of the great memories I took from that weekend. The five of us started making dirty jokes, coming up with all these hot ways we could drive Mum crazy until she told us what Kiki was planning for my party. Of course, all the chatter about sex started to work its wicked magic on us, and soon we were all in the mood to fuck.

This time, I went straight for my sister. All I’d done with her during the party was swap a few heated kisses, and the time seemed right to make up for that. Hoisting her up onto the edge of the jacuzzi, I burrowed between Lilly’s thighs and started right in, licking her smooth slit.

“Oh, God… I love you, Poppy,” she moaned.

Mum must’ve wanted in on the hot incest action, because I soon heard her behind me, whispering, “Oh, my precious little girls.” Then I felt her touch my pussy.

“Want to fuck, Mum?” Henri said.

“Oh, always, dearest – always,” Kiki replied, then I could hear a bit of splashing as the two lovers came together.

My mother’s finger was buried in my cunt – moving around in little circles, which she knew I loved. Then she pressed her face between the cheeks of my arse and licked my bumhole.

I was working hard to make Lilly come, but I wanted a quick glimpse of what Henri and Kiki were up to, so I replaced my mouth with my fingers for a few seconds, just long enough to see that mother and daughter had climbed out of the large tub and were stretched out on the tiles, grinding their pussies together. I watched them for a few seconds, then got back to going down on Lilly.

Just in time, too – because seconds later, my baby sister cried out, a shudder convulsing her body as she came. I fastened my mouth to Lilly, drinking the nectar from her pretty pink flower.

All of a sudden I felt something inside like a little storm, churned up by Mum’s finger – and just like that, I was caught up in an orgasm of my own. Somehow Mum managed to keep licking my arse, even though I had a hard time keeping still. I finally had to beg her to stop.

My sister and I exchanged knowing looks once we’d broken apart, then without a word, we both attacked Mum. We got her out of the tub and down on the tiles and went to work. Lilly slid her hand into Mum’s cunt and fucked her hard, while I nursed on her clit. I occasionally stole glances at Kiki and Henri, who were now licking each other.

Lilly and I had our mother screaming like she’d gone totally mental. She even fainted for a few seconds, but returned to us before we had the chance to panic. Then the three of us got to watch as Henri, then Kiki got each other off, then shared wet, pussy-flavoured kisses.

It was a full half-hour before any resemblance of normality returned to our little party. Normal, she says. I wonder, is there anyone on the planet who thinks that what we’re doing is normal? Actually, I hope there are lots… because we are the happiest people I know, so we must be doing something right.

***

In the coming days, Lilly began to regret the rash decision she’d made, to be left out of the preparations for my birthday party. She was half-crazed with curiosity and using all sorts of tricks on Mum to find out what was going on, most of them sexual. But Mum stood firm, no matter how mercilessly my sister teased her. “You did a wonderful thing for your sister,” she said, “and I’m going to see that you stick to it.”

Truth be told, Lilly wasn’t very good at teasing. Don’t get me wrong, she knew how to get Mum hot and bothered. It’s just that in the process, she’d become so aroused herself that Mum always got to fuck her anyway. It got to where my sister and my mother were making love nearly every day. Whenever I caught them at it, I’d usually strip off and join in the fun. Needless to say, there was an awful lot of sex taking place in our home.

Me, I didn’t bother Mum about my birthday plans, or what Kiki had in store for the occasion. I knew whatever they came up with would be brilliant, so it suited me just fine to wait for the surprise.

A few days after our big sex party, Henri and I were having lunch together at school. It was Friday, so Mia was in music class. Beth came bouncing over, brimming over with the joys of life. Honestly, if she was any cuter she’d turn into a Disney princess, complete with bluebirds fluttering round her head.

“Well, you look happy,” I said, which had to be the understatement of the year.

Surprised, she glanced at Henri. “Haven’t you told her?”

“Nope, I thought you’d like to,” Henri said, wearing a mysterious smile.

I looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, only the best thing in the whole world!” Beth exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heart. “Kiki’s taking me away for the weekend!”

“Fuck me! Just the two of you?”

“Uh-huh… we leave tonight! She’s picking me up after school and we’re driving to Bath. She’s booked us a hotel suite! Can you believe it?”

Henri was grinning. “It seems that Mother has fallen head over heels for our red-headed angel here. Beth, I’ve stayed in that suite with Mum before. Trust me, you are going to have the best time ever.”

It was easy to tell from Beth’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes that Kiki wasn’t the only one who was in love. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Beth, I’m so pleased for you! Kiki is wonderful, and I can see why you’re so excited. And being whisked away right after school, too! Awesome!”

Henri and I were thrilled for Beth, while she could barely contain herself. We spent the rest of the lunch break trying to calm her down, before some nosy teacher noticed and decided to investigate.

***

The relationships forged between the members of the MAD Eleven were deep and immediate. We felt an affinity with each other, all part of a sisterhood that shared a secret, intimate bond. And even if you were a child like me, it didn’t mean that you were taken less seriously. Sure, the adults looked after the best interests of the youngsters, but we were free to speak our minds and the grownups let us have a voice.

That same Friday night Kiki took Beth off for their romantic weekend, Mum would do something that proved she really did take me seriously… as a daughter and as a lover.

On to Chapter Seventeen!Sweet Poppy, Chapter 17

by Kinkys_sis

I’d always known I was only attracted to girls, but never understood why. I knew it wasn’t normal, and that made me strange, peculiar, different. Yet I didn’t seem so different to the rest of my peers.

So why did they chatter all day long about this boy or that boy, while I was busy thinking about how cute other girls were?

I didn’t let that worry me much, although at times it did leave me out of the conversation. They all saw me as being a bit aloof. Little did they know that I had my own thoughts.

It never got me down because I had a lot going for me. I was our school’s boxing champion at fourteen. I was the vice-captain of the under-sixteens soccer team and in the athletics squad.

In short, I was a school hero.

But there was something missing from my life. I desperately wanted a girlfriend, a sexual girlfriend rather than a pal. I already had plenty of female friends.

I spent hours considering, wondering which girl I wanted to make mine. More than that, which girl might be amenable to being seduced. I didn’t find an answer; didn’t even know if there was one.

***

I’d run miles that day, far more than I normally did. Perhaps that’s why I lost concentration – I was simply running on auto-pilot, my mind flitting from one girl to another as I worked on my mental tick list.

Then I was falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep hillside. I remember thinking This is bad before I saw the huge tree ahead of me.

A brief explosion of pain…

My first thought was of the hard, searing agony in my head. Then I felt sick to my stomach and nearly retched, but somehow held it down.

I vaguely heard a voice penetrating the fog that clogged my mind, but couldn’t fathom what it said or where it came from. Then relief — God, it felt good. It was cold, something very cold resting on my forehead. The pain eased a little, the flashes of light faded.

Was I dead? Were the angels talking to me? That was what it sounded like at the time. This sweet, gentle voice was soothing me, telling me to lie still. But then it was gone as everything began to spin. I drifted into blackness, everything fading away.

***

I felt like a drowning person, desperately struggling to reach the surface. I could see light, and fought to get to it. Once more, I felt the relief of something cold on my face.

I cautiously opened an eye, but that set the world to spinning again. I focused on a light somewhere above, concentrating as best I could. Finally, everything became steady.

This time, the voice was clearer, “Lie still, pretty one… don’t try to move.” The damp, cool cloth bathed my face once more.

A blurry image peered down at me. Fingers lifted an eyelid, examining. Then an awful smell as something wafted over my nose. Whatever it was, it worked — the fog was clearing fast. The last dizziness went away.

“Now close your eyes and rest.” I felt the lightest touch of fingers tracing across my face, then they drifted away just as I did.

***

I came awake with a start — where was I? The memory of falling flooded back – bouncing down the hill, tumbling over and over until I hit the tree. Then there was that voice I’d heard, someone soothing my pain away.

Carefully, I eased myself up on an elbow. This time, the room only spun a little. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Once more, I opened my eyes.

She was sitting right beside me, fast asleep with an open book on her lap. The strangest, yet most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her skin was a deep olive-brown sort of hue. She had an enormous mane of hair; rich, luxuriant black hair.

But above all, what made the woman stand out was her jewelry. Huge golden bangles hung from her ears. Beads and chains festooned her neck. Perhaps a dozen or more bracelets sparkled on each wrist. A real Romany gypsy, I suddenly realised.

For the first time, I took a glance around. Flickering candles lit the room, reflecting the bright, almost garish colours that covered every available space. I saw the curved ceiling, the hanging pots and pans… of course, I was in a caravan.

The sheet that covered me slipped down enough to reveal that I was stark naked underneath. First I felt embarrassed, then horrified to see the horrible bruises that were already showing on my bare body, so many of them. I let out a cry of pain when I tried to move my arm, then noticed the shoulder was covered with heavy tape.

My cry had awakened the woman. She reached out to ease me back down. Her voice, strangely accented, instructed me to be still. “Do not try to use that arm, not just yet. You dislocated your shoulder. It is now as it should be, but will be very sore for a while.”

She fetched a mug, brought it to me. “Let me help you drink this. You will not like it, but it is necessary for your recovery.” She was right, it was the foulest stuff I’d ever tasted, but I did as instructed and swallowed it down as fast as I could.

She sat once more, watching me as I began to drift again. I was almost asleep when she said, “I need to go out for a while, but my daughter will watch over you until I return.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that someone else was now seated in the chair – a little girl, who was smiling at me, “Sleep,” she said, “I will be here.”

I knew at once that it was the angel I’d heard earlier. The sweetest voice, coming from a vision of purest beauty. She touched her lips with a finger, then laid it on mine. “Go to sleep… dream of nice things.”

I felt her pull the sheet around my shoulders as my eyes drifted shut. Her hand seemed to brush against my breasts for no obvious reason. Was she feeling me up? Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself just before I fell asleep.

***

It was dark when I woke, though a small lamp burning in one corner gave off a little light. I was bursting for a pee and I seemed to be alone. What should I do?

I began to raise myself, conscious of my shoulder, then felt the weight of an arm that lay draped across my bare tummy. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the gloom, I saw that the little girl was lying there, pressed to my side. It was too dark for me to make out her features, but I noticed with a start that she was naked, just like me.

Her eyes flashed open as I moved. “You are awake.”

My head hurt when I nodded. “I need to go for a… a pee.”

The girl carefully sat up in the bed, then stood. Fetching a robe, she draped it over my shoulders, though she didn’t bother to cover herself. “I will help you, but try to keep your bad arm still. Here… swing your legs down, then stand very slowly.”

I ached in a thousand places, each movement an agony. The girl helped steady me as I struggled to my feet. Holding me as gently as possible, she led me to the door. I saw her pick up the oil lamp on the way. Four wooden steps led down to the ground. My shaky legs barely held me as I cautiously descended.

She lifted a bucket that hung on a hook at the side of the caravan, then set it on the ground. By then, I felt ready to burst. I felt myself sway when I tried to crouch, but the girl reached out to me, held me steady.

I’d never peed with someone at my side before, but this was no time for embarrassment – my need was too urgent. When I finished, I slowly pushed myself back up. The girl reached for a toilet roll that had been placed near the edge of the top stair, then peeled away a length of the paper. I was shocked when she didn’t hand it over, but reached out to wipe me herself.

As she led me back inside, I saw there were only two bunk beds. Her mother was asleep in one, and the other was where I had been until just a moment ago. The girl took my robe away, leaving me naked again,  and helped me back into bed.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

I shook my head … ouch! Wincing from the pain of it, I burrowed back into the comforting softness of the pillow. The girl didn’t speak, just climbed into bed and stretched out next to me. Clearly, this bed was only meant for one, which explained why she’d been so close when I woke.

It had been chilly outside, but now I felt the little girl’s warmth as she snuggled close. Before she drew the covers up, she gently touched what I suspected was a nasty looking bruise. Then she leaned in and kissed it. “Your injuries will soon heal; my magic will soothe them away.”

She had placed the lamp nearby, so now I could clearly see how lovely she was. I placed her at ten, perhaps eleven years old. She watched me as I studied her, then spoke softly. “I had a dream that a beautiful girl would come to me. Now you have, only not quite the way I expected.” She shook her head. “Something less painful would have been better.”

Suddenly, she drew forward and kissed my mouth. As she gently broke away, I heard her sigh, “You are my dream girl.” Then the girl rested her head next to mine. Once more, her arm was lying across my body, only not on my tummy this time. Her wrist was just brushing the underside of my left breast.

My mind was in a whirl. I’d also dreamed of a girlfriend, many times – but naturally, I’d been thinking of a girl my own age. Now, here was this little-girl beauty, assuming that I’d been delivered to her, claiming me as hers.

I knew this was wrong, she was much too young, yet… I couldn’t help the tug in my heart. Slipping my working arm under the girl’s neck, I pulled her closer.

Again she sighed, then I felt a delicious shock of arousal when her hand covered my breast. Even in my battered condition, my nipple responded to the intimacy of her touch. I was wondering whether to kiss her myself, but she seemed to know what I was thinking and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she whispered. “Time for you to sleep, my dream girl.” That was the last thing I remembered.

***

The sounds and smells of cooking dragged me from a deep slumber. I was alone in the bed. Moving slowly, I sat up and tested my muscles. It didn’t feel too bad except for my head and shoulder – they still ached badly. I hadn’t realised that my head was bandaged, not until I reached up to find out where the pain was centred.

The girl’s mother, now busy over a small gas stove, had noticed me moving. “How do you feel, little one? Are you hungry?”

Actually, I was starving, come to think of it. God knows when I’d last eaten. In fact, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have a clue what day it was, or how long I had been there. So many questions buzzing through my head, and I needed answers.

I forgot all that when the door opened and I saw my little angel, carrying a bowl of hot water. Her eyes lit up when she saw me sitting on the side of the bed. Her smile was something else, so very beautiful. She came straight to me, and her mother didn’t bat an eyelid when she kissed me full on the lips.

She took a flannel from the bowl and said, “Sit still.” I obeyed, drinking in the sight of her as she washed me. She examined my bruises as she went – sometimes nodding approvingly, frowning at others as she gently touched them.

When she had finished, the girl draped a linen sling around my neck, then carefully guided my bad arm through the loop until it was supported. It wasn’t until she fetched the robe I’d used earlier that it struck me: I’d been sitting there quite naked the whole time. More surprisingly, I didn’t feel at all self-conscious.

“Come, eat,” the mother said.

She served scrambled eggs, along with chopped fried tomatoes and bacon, which I managed to eat one handed. My angel laughed when she saw me chasing the last few pieces of egg around my plate.

I took coffee when asked, and it was delicious. Now I felt much better.

“So, tell us… what is your name? Where do you come from?” the woman asked me, adding, “You can call me Rose.”

For a moment I felt panicky, unable to remember my name, but then it formed in my mind. “Elizabeth… no, wait… it’s Liz.” Then I panicked again. “How long have I been here? Did – did you find my phone?”

They each took one of my hands, then the mother spoke. “Calm yourself, child. Two days you have been here… and yes, we have your phone. We should maybe have phoned the police and told them of your accident.” She nodded toward the little girl. “Bella asked me not to… she said it was meant to be, your coming to us. She sees things, does my Bella, I have learnt to listen. But still, I worried someone might be fretting over your disappearance.” Her eyes met mine. “You still do not say where you are from.”

“Near to Dereham, but no, no one will be worried about me. My mother is in America, I’ve been alone for a while, and I don’t expect her back for weeks yet… months, even.”

So. My angel was named Bella, and her mother’s name was Rose. Gypsy Rose, I told myself, and almost laughed at the thought. And Bella … that put me in mind of belladonna, also known as deadly nightshade. Or bella donna – beautiful woman. Her mother said she saw things, so must be the former, but I couldn’t believe there was anything deadly about her.

When I mentioned being on my own, little Bella gave me a dazzling smile. “Then you can stay here with us, with me! You heard me call and you came. I knew you would. You really are my dream girl.”

Bella unfastened the bandage that was wrapped about my head, and her mother examined the wound. “You took a very nasty knock, Liz, but it looks to be healing fine.” She held my face and peered deep into my eyes for what seemed an age until she finally said, “Yes, you are okay. There is no lasting damage. The pain should disappear quite soon.”

Clothes were a problem. My running things were badly torn from the tumble I’d taken. I mentioned that to Rose and she replied, “Will we ride to your home and fetch some things? It is about eight miles from here, I think.” She’d clearly decided I would be staying with them. When I saw the longing in Bella’s eyes, I had to agree. How could I refuse my new-found angel?

It was only mid-morning. Rose quickly hitched the horse, and before long we were bouncing and swaying along the country lane. Before our departure, she told me to return to bed, insisting that I still needed rest.

Bella was seated on the bed next to me, her fingers tracing exquisitely across my bare skin. Despite the desire I felt, I still wasn’t comfortable with letting myself go with this child – a beautiful child maybe, but still a child. She saw my doubt and began to whisper to me in a steady chant.

Listening to Bella’s words, my resistance slowly faded, while the need to make love to her only grew stronger. The smile on her face told me that she knew my hunger, longed for it. “You have no choice,” she murmured, “you are mine, Liz… let yourself come to me, I am the love you have waited for.”

How could she know such things? So young, and yet there was something about her that said more. Her fingers found my breasts, lingering here and there. She circled a nipple with a fingertip, only barely touching. She watched my face, she read my expressions, understood what I was feeling.

“You love me, you cannot resist me. I am the one you have been searching for, you are the one that I knew would come. Relax, surrender to my touch. Feel the love I offer, it is yours to take.”

She took a nipple between her fingers, gave it a pinch. I heard my gasp as my body pulsed with feelings… God, such feelings. I reached for her with my good arm and pulled her in, seeing a look of triumph in her eyes.

Then her lips met mine. Her lips, so beautifully soft, so sweet. As I drew her even closer, the kiss became something I’d only dreamed of. My heart surged, my pulse raced, I sucked her in. I was lost to this girl. I suddenly felt a need, so much need… and all for my angel.

Angel, devil, witch? I no longer cared, all I knew was that I had to have her.

Bella gave my tit a hard squeeze – how could she know how much I loved that? – then laughed joyfully as her hand crept lower to stroke my belly. She spoke again. “Feel my love, Liz. It is all for you, my dream girl. We were meant to be one, you and I. Now join with me, love me.”

My reservations were gone, my thoughts were only of Bella. God, I adored her.

Her fingers were already halfway there, but the heat was upon me and wouldn’t be denied. I seized her hand in mine and thrust it between my legs, pressing it to my pussy. “Love me, Bella,” I cried, “Please love me – I need you so much!”

Her tinkling laughter was like music, the scent of her skin intoxicating. Bella delved into me – I didn’t know how little girl’s fingers could go so deep, but they seemed to fill me completely.

Lord, how she loved me. One moment caressing me deep inside, then briefly teasing my clit before sliding down again, between my pussy lips… and further. There was the sweet shock I experienced when Bella touched my rose, a place I’d never thought of as a source of pleasure. Her fingers trailed up and down the crack of my bum – God, the sensations that gave me! I felt the need for her to press a finger inside… but she didn’t, just tickled around and around my most private place, serenaded by the melody of her laugh.

Then her fingers vanished; Bella was no longer touching me. I waited, nothing. Opening my eyes, I found her studying me with a searching look. “My beautiful Liz… do you understand now? You are now mine, my lover forevermore. Are you willing to accept what I offer you?”

I gazed into her eyes and saw the love, it was everything I’d ever wanted. “Bella, my little witch… I love you, I am yours.”

She fell into my arms, our mouths crushed together, and we began to make love for real.

The caravan rocked as it moved along. Was it the roughness of the lane, or perhaps our urgent fucking?

From somewhere above I heard a laugh. It was Bella’s mother, welcoming me to their family.

The End

by BlueJean

Miss Laine came round to help us with the second honey harvest. That meant I had to be brave and show her I wasn’t afraid of the bees.

It was only the third time I’d worn my beekeeper’s suit, having been stung the previous two times and deciding my beekeeping days were over. But I didn’t want to be left out.

My teacher had two hives of her own, so she knew how to harvest honey, and as she and Mum carefully extracted the bars of honeycomb, me and Millie took them and gently brushed the bees off, putting them in a wheelbarrow and covering them over.

I tried my best to look like I knew what I was doing, but when Mum handed me another bar I accidentally dropped it, and that made the bees angry. Some of the stripey little gits swarmed around me and I tried to swat them away.

“Freya, stop flapping your hands around, you’ll just agitate them even more,” Mum told me as she picked up her smoker, puffing it around me to calm the bees down. “The worst thing you can do is panic. Just stand still until they calm down.”

“I know,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Miss Laine put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re doing great,” she said, and for some reason that made me feel even worse.

Millie unzipped her protective hood and pulled it off. “That’s better,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“Millie, put your veil back on,” Mum told my sister.

“I don’t want to,” Millie replied, holding her hands out for another bar of honeycomb. “It’s too hot and I can’t see properly.”

“The bees will sting you. Put it back on, please,” Mum insisted.

Miss Laine frowned. “Um… do we have a situation here?”

“They won’t sting me, Mummy, they think I’m one of them. It’s like… uh… it’s like… when you’re the first thing a baby animal sees and it thinks you’re its mummy. Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

“Do you mean imprinting?” Miss Laine asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I don’t think bees do imprinting, Pixie,” Mum told my sister, reluctantly handing her another bar. “If too many bees swarm around you, put your hood back on, okay?”

“Okay,” Millie said, brushing the bees off the honeycomb.

“I’m very impressed, Millie Newton,” Miss Laine told my sister. “You’re definitely a child of nature.”

“Honey’s good for sore throats and coughs!” I blurted out, trying to impress my teacher, but everyone gave me a funny look.

And then a bee stung me. On the bum, of all places.

So yeah, that was nice.

At least I didn’t cry, though. What’s the point of a protective suit if it doesn’t even protect you?

The sting was really painful, so Mum and Miss Laine took me up to the bathroom while Millie went to check on Nigel. The little canary had been practising his flying in short bursts before returning to his cage on our bedroom windowsill. One day we hoped he would fly the nest for good and live in the wild, although I didn’t think there were many wild canaries in England.

I stood in the bathroom in my panties and t-shirt while Mum perched on the edge of the bath with a pair of tweezers. Miss Laine was kneeling next to me with a little dish of fresh honey to dab on the stung area.

“I need to pull your panties down a bit, okay?” Mum said to me.

I glanced at Miss Laine and went a bit red-faced. “Um, okay, I guess.”

“You don’t need to be shy, Freya Newton. I’ve seen bottoms before, you know,” Miss Laine said with a smile, then gave me a playful nudge with her elbow.

“I’m not shy,” I protested, and pulled my knickers down around my knees, shrugging at my teacher like it was no big deal.

Mum and Miss Laine gave each other a funny look, then Mum pulled the bee stinger out of my bum with the tweezers. She wetted a flannel and put some antibacterial soap on it. “I’m just going to clean the infected bit,” she said but then stopped. “Would you like me to do it? Or… would you prefer Sadie to?”

I turned to look down at Miss Laine, who raised an eyebrow at me. “Um… well… I wouldn’t mind if Sadie cleaned it,” I said, giving her a bashful smile.

“Okay, then,” Mum said and handed Miss Laine the flannel.

My teacher gently cleaned the sore lump on my bum while her free hand rested on my other cheek. Round and round she went with the soapy flannel. I felt a little bit embarrassed but also kind of excited to have my teacher touch me in such a private place.

“Well, someone has a very pretty bottom,” Miss Laine said in a playful tone.

“She takes after her mother,” Mum told her.

Miss Laine patted me with a dry towel, but her other hand was gently stroking my bum. “So pretty,” she said in a faraway voice. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw my teacher and my mum kind of staring at each other.

“Do you remember what I used to do when you came home with cuts and scrapes, Freya?” Mum said.

I did remember, although she hadn’t done it since I was little. I smiled at the memory. “You used to kiss them,” I said and did my best not to giggle like a little girl.

“Would you like Mummy and Sadie to kiss it better, then? Or are you too old for that now?” Mum asked me.

“You can if you want, I don’t mind,” I replied. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, the thought of it made me feel quite naughty.

Leaning forward, Mum kissed my bum where the bee had stung me. “All better?” she asked me.

I shook my head.

“Maybe Sadie should try then.”

I felt Miss Laine’s lips brush my bum. “Better now?” she said.

Covering my mouth to hide a grin, I shook my head again.

“Poor thing,” Miss Laine murmured. “Perhaps we should kiss it together.”

“It’s worth a try,” Mum agreed.

They kissed a bum cheek each, their lips lingering this time.

“I don’t even have a sting on that side,” I told Miss Laine, looking back over my shoulder.

Miss Laine looked up at me and smiled, then went back to kissing my bottom with Mum, and as I stood there gazing up at the ceiling with a dreamy smile, I could feel my kitty getting warm and tingly.

Then they did something I wasn’t expecting. I felt Mum and Miss Laine move away from my bottom, and when I looked back they were kissing each other instead. Right on the mouth, with tongues and everything!

I gasped in shock, and they broke apart – smiling at each other, then at me. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “You two just kissed!” I was still recovering from the shock of my mum letting me watch her touch herself – Now she’s snogging my teacher? How outrageous!

They both laughed and Miss Laine put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, it’s a secret!” she whispered. “Now hold still while I put some honey on your sting.”

“Honey’s good for bee stings too, huh?” I said.

“It is,” Miss Laine told me as she smeared a little bit of honey over where I’d been stung. “Quite often in nature, the cause and the cure come from the same place.”

My teacher sucked the remaining honey from her finger and made a silly face at me, puffing out her cheeks to make me laugh.

“You can pull your panties up now,” Mum said and I tried not to show my disappointment. The embarrassment I’d felt at Miss Laine seeing my bare bum was mostly gone, and I was in the mood for doing more sexy things.

I slowly pulled my knickers up, being careful not to wipe the honey off.

Millie was standing in the bathroom doorway, her mouth hanging open. “You showed Miss Laine your bare bottom!” she said, astounded.

“So?” I said with a shrug.

“Good job, honey bum!” Miss Laine said, tickling me.

“Speaking of honey, would you both take a jar over to Mr. Dalliard?” Mum asked me and my sister. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

OMG, it was sooo obvious why Mum wanted to send us on an errand! I bet she wanted to kiss Miss Laine some more and probably do even ruder stuff, too! I wondered if they were actually going out with each other now.

I wished I could have stayed and watched them, but Mum shooed me away. I gave her a little smirk and went to put some shorts on while Millie put a lead on Bee, and then we headed out to Mr. Dalliard’s.

***

We watched the girls out of my bedroom window as they wandered down the garden path with Bee.

Sadie turned to me. “Are we making honey?”

“Yes… but not that kind of honey,” I told her.

She gave me a knowing smile. “What kind, then?”

I pushed a hand inside my trousers and hooked a finger into my pussy. I was dripping wet down there. The naughty game we had played with Freya in the bathroom was still fresh in my mind, my perverted imagination filled with possibilities.

Withdrawing my finger, I reached out to smear my liquid arousal over my best friend’s luscious lips. “That kind,” I told her, my voice husky with lust.

Sadie licked her lips and smiled impishly at me. “Such a dirty lady…”

I gestured to a pile of boxes on my bed. “I treated myself to some gifts.”

“Aww, I thought they were for me,” Sadie pouted as we made ourselves comfy on the bed.

I opened a box and pulled out some black sheer stockings with a lace trim. Another box contained lacy panties: black, crimson, teal. More boxes and bags revealed vintage brassieres, a scarlet and black baby doll negligee and more stockings.

“Goodness, you have been busy,” Sadie said, running her hands over the negligee.

We had money put away in the bank; Tony’s career as a successful city trader had seen to that. And although it seemed too easy, too convenient to rely on those funds, I was grateful for the security they represented. Selling honey wasn’t going to make me rich, that was for sure. So yes, sometimes I felt like spoiling myself.

“Shall we try some on?” I asked my friend.

Sadie began to undo the buttons on her jeans.

I took my trousers off and pulled a pair of black stockings up my legs. I’d worn nylons like this most days as a barrister in the city, but beekeepers didn’t have much use for such indulgence. They felt good against my skin. Tugging my plain knickers off, I slipped on a new pair that matched the stockings. I felt silly wearing a t-shirt with my sexy ensemble, so I pulled that off too, allowing my breasts to spill out.

Sadie wriggled into a pair of crimson stockings and some red and black panties. Like me, she took off her shirt and went bare-chested. “Ooohh, these knickers are nicer than mine. I might steal them,” she said to me.

“Panty thief!” I retorted, and we giggled like a couple of schoolgirls.

“Did you give Freya my panties?” Sadie asked me.

“Not yet. Tonight, maybe.”

“Do you have any new stories to tell me about her?”

“No, but I think I might tomorrow,” I told her with a naughty grin and ran my fingers over the lacy material of my new panties.

“What are you planning to do?” Sadie asked me as she kneaded her pert breasts.

“Let’s see… I might ask Freya to come to my room again.”

“And then what?”

I slid a hand down my knickers and ran two fingers through my wet folds. “How about I give her your dirty panties and watch her as she smells them?”

Sadie caressed herself through my panties, pinching her nipple with the other hand. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Don’t you make a mess of my new undies, naughty girl,” I scolded her, playfully.

“Tell me what else you’re going to do with Freya tonight,” Sadie asked me, her eyes wild with lust.

“I don’t know, but it’s going to be dirty, Sadie. Really dirty,” I said as I fingered myself.

“Let me watch,” Sadie moaned.

I smiled at her and shook my head.

“Please,” she begged.

“Not tonight, but soon. Now take those nice new panties off and come sit on my face,” I told her.

Quickly shucking my panties, she straddled my head, lowering her steamy cunt down to my waiting mouth. I feasted on her, my tongue savouring the sour, metallic taste, hungry for more.

Sadie moaned, humping against my mouth, her hands full of my hair. “I loved kissing Freya’s cute little bottom, Georgia,” she whimpered as I tongue-fucked her. “She smelled so good. Could you smell her, too?”

I couldn’t answer. Her gorgeous cunt was pressed tightly against my mouth, which was exactly where I wanted it. I assaulted her with my tongue until she came loudly, her musky syrup glazing my lips.

Bending forward, Sadie put her face between my legs, pulling the gusset of my damp knickers to one side to get at my cunt. We ate each other out in a frenzy until we came together, Sadie for the second time.

She made me feel so dirty. And I was enjoying being dirty lately. More so than I had in a very long time. I hadn’t realised how pent up my sexual desires had become, living out in the country with the girls, never dating, always afraid of betraying my late husband’s memory. It was all bound to spill over sooner or later. So there I was with my tongue in my best friend’s cunt, and fully intending to do something equally as naughty to my ten-year-old daughter.

So this is how it chooses to manifest itself. So be it, then.

***

As me and Millie followed the narrow country roads to Mr. Dalliard’s house, I tried my best to think of a way to talk to my sister about what had happened at the Menhir Stone, but for some reason I was scared to. What we had seen just didn’t seem possible and I wasn’t completely sure that it had happened at all. I’d tried to tell Mum and Miss Laine but they thought I was joking. And why wouldn’t they? It sounded like one of the pretend games me and Millie liked to play, except this one was real. I thought it was real, anyway.

Was I going mad? Whatever was happening to Millie, was it happening to me too? I needed to know.

I took a big breath and spoke. “Millie?”

“Yup?”

“As… as your big sister, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour.”

Yeah, that sounded good. Just like Mum would say it.

So of course, Millie laughed and began imitating me. “Oh, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour! Look at me, I’m so posh! Come here and polish my shoes!” she said to me in a stupid high-pitched voice, prancing up the road.

“Shut up!” I shouted at her, trying not to lose my temper. One of us had to be mature. “Look, this is serious. What happened to us when you touched the Menhir Stone?”

Millie stopped messing around and looked at me, frowning slightly. “I dunno. It just sucked me in.”

“How?”

She just shrugged.

“Did we really see a Dryad?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I told you she was real. You saw her, didn’t you? And the other Dryads, too?”

“I don’t know what I saw. I thought maybe it was a dream or something.”

“It definitely wasn’t a dream.”

“But why was she at the Menhir Stone? I thought she lived in the big tree.”

“She does, but it doesn’t mean she can’t go to other places, too. That would be like you and me not being able to leave our house, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose. Does she talk to you?”

“I… I’m not sure. It’s all confusing, like there’s two of them, and they’re fighting over me,” my sister said, looking upset.

That really spooked me. “Two of them?”

“I think something else lives in the tree. Something not nice.”

“Like a bad Dryad?”

“I dunno.”

“Why can’t I hear them?”

Millie stamped her foot. “I don’t know, Freya! I’m not a – a tree nymph expert, am I?”

I studied my sister carefully. I didn’t think she was fibbing. She usually made a face like a startled monkey when she told lies. But… weird spirits hiding in trees and rocks? I just didn’t know what to think.

“We should ask Mr. Dalliard. He told us to visit the tree in the first place. I’m quite cross with him, actually!” I announced, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Mr. Dalliard had lived in the same old farmhouse his whole life. It once belonged to his parents and there used to be a farm attached to it, but over the years bits and pieces of land had been sold off here and there until just the house remained. It was filled with old, well looked after furniture and loads of strange objects and antiques from Mr. Dalliard’s many travels: A Zulu fighting stick from Africa, a Samurai sword from Japan, a German Kaiser helmet from World War One, an old diver’s suit with a helmet that looked amazingly heavy, a gigantic ammonite fossil that was at least a metre wide, and loads of other cool stuff.

We sat in Mr. Dalliard’s living room while he made us tea, and I warily eyed the big grandfather clock in the corner. The last time I was here, it had struck 12 PM and had scared the stuffing out of me with its loud chiming. It was like having Big Ben in your lounge.

Bee wandered round the living room sniffing everything in sight. I hoped she didn’t decide to do a wee on Mr. Dalliard’s carpet.

Mr. Dalliard came in with two tin mugs full of tea and a plate of biscuits on a tray, which he put down on a small table. “Tea’s up, nippers,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” me and my sister said together.

“Tha’s navy tea. Put ‘airs on yer chest, it will.”

“I don’t want hairs on my chest!” Millie squealed.

Mr. Dalliard slapped his knee in amusement and wheezed out a raspy laugh. “Thanks for the ‘oney. From the last ‘arvest, is it?”

“No, it’s a jar from the first harvest,” I said to him. “We haven’t extracted the second lot yet.”

Millie took a swig of her tea and put the mug down on the table. Mr. Dalliard picked it up and put it back down on one of the coasters he had laid out for us. “Don’t be putting it on my nice table, ya pest! Took me bloomin’ ages to polish that up with yer mum’s beeswax, that did.”

“Sorry,” Millie said.

I sat up straight and cleared my throat. “Mr. Dalliard?”

Mr. Dalliard sat down in his armchair with his own mug of tea. “Aye?”

“Millie… well, Millie’s been doing some weird stuff ever since we went to the big oak tree and… and it’s probably your fault, cause you told us to visit it in the first place. There. I said it.”

Mr. Dalliard dipped a custard cream into his mug of tea and stuck it in his mouth. Bee gazed up at him with her ears pricked up, in hope he might share the next biscuit. After he’d chewed and swallowed it, he finally spoke. “What sort o’ weird stuff’s that, then?”

“She hears voices, don’t you, Millie?” I said to my sister.

Munching on a chocolate digestive, Millie nodded. “One wants me to come live in the tree and the other one shows me how to make friends with animals.”

“And Millie touches stuff and goes all spaced out, like this,” I explained, then made a face like a zombie.

“I don’t look like that!” Millie laughed, giving me a slap on the arm.

“You do! She does, Mr. Dalliard. We found an old fireplace in the forest and Millie touched it and she did that face, then she started going on about a lady who makes medicine or something.”

“I think one of them used to live there,” Millie added.

“And then the other day – and you probably won’t believe me but I’ll tell you anyway – Millie touched the Menhir Stone near Miss Laine’s house and we both zoomed back in time and there were Neanderthals and Dryads. Like, actual real Dryads!” I finished, catching my breath.

“Yeah, I had to hold on to the big stone because Freya was licking—”

I interrupted Millie with a look, shaking my head. “No, Mr. Dalliard doesn’t need to know about that bit.”

Mr. Dalliard sat there holding a biscuit up to his open mouth as he listened to our story. When we had finished, he closed his mouth and put the biscuit back on his plate. “Well,” he said. “Well, I never. Tha’s quite the story.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, then slipped them back on again. “Bloomin’ ‘ell. I’s a right idiot,” he said in a quiet voice.

“What do you mean?” I said.

Mr. Dalliard sighed. “I knows there’s summit in that old tree, I’s known it for a long time. Got myself in a spot o’ bother there when I were a nipper. But the thing is, young’uns, most folk in this world is dull as dishwater, and dull folk don’t know about the magic that hides in the trees and the oceans and the old stones. Ignorance is like a wall that protects ya, see?”

Mr. Dalliard leant forward in his chair and spoke to Millie. “But you, Millie, you’s as sharp as a button. You sees things others don’t. And it’s both a blessin’ and a curse, right? You sees all the magic and all the strange things that this world hides, but the strange things, they sees you as well. And mayhap, some of ’em might not be so good.”

“What do we do, then?” I asked. “Should we tell Mum?”

Mr. Dalliard picked up his mug of tea, but his hand started to shake uncontrollably. He grabbed his wrist with the other hand, and I quickly took the mug from him, setting it back down on the table.

“Are you okay, Mr. Dalliard?” I asked him as Millie gently rubbed his shoulder. He’d gone white as a sheet.

“The world’s caught up to me, nipper,” he told me, rubbing his hand. “That bit of extra time the Lady gave to me, it’s startin’ to run dry, it is. Can’t say I’s sorry, though. Terrible thing to see your loved ones die. First me darlin’ wife, then me own son.” He gazed sorrowfully at the grandfather clock. “Imagine seeing yer own boy grow old and die… terrible…”

We sat there silent for a moment, the sound of the old clock tick-tocking away in the corner.

Then Mr. Dalliard seemed to notice us again and slapped his knee. “Listen to me, goin’ on like an old codger! You best be gettin’ ‘ome, littluns. I expect yer mum’ll have supper ready soon, won’t she?”

Millie took two biscuits for the journey home as I snapped the lead on Bee.

As my sister skipped across Mr. Dalliard’s yard, I turned to him. “What should we do about Millie?”

Looking down at me, Mr. Dalliard put a hand on my shoulder. “I dunno if yer mum’ll listen to ya, but young Sadie will. She might just know summit about that old fireplace in the woods, too. She knows all kinds of things, that girl does.” He gave me a wink.

“I suppose that’s why she’s a teacher,” I said.

“Aye. And Freya?”

That might have been the first time Mr. Dalliard had called me by my name.”Yes?”

“Look after yer sister, alright?”

“I will,” I replied.

On the way home I gave Millie a bit of a telling off for nearly spilling the beans to Mr. Dalliard about the naughty games we’d been playing, and reminded her that those kinds of things definitely needed to be kept secret.

Little sisters are such a pain sometimes.

***

I looked at the clock on my bedside table – 10:27 PM.

Would she be here soon? I felt like a schoolgirl waiting for her first love. It felt new and exciting. It was ridiculous, but I was going to run with it anyway.

“Would you like to visit me in my room again tonight?” I’d whispered to her earlier in the evening across the kitchen table while Millie poured herself a glass of juice from the fridge.

“Yes, please,” she’d whispered back, sporting a cheeky grin.

I lay on my bed, new black stockings and lacy panties tattooed against my skin, and a negligee, wispy and gossamer-light against my body, its see-through material teasing the promise of my bare breasts. I’d considered slipping into my high heels, but despite what the porn movies tell you, shoes are just not very practical in bed.

My bedroom door slowly creaked open, and a little head appeared.

I poked my tongue out at my older daughter and she poked hers back at me. I gestured for her to enter with a seductive finger and she crept into the room, closing the door behind her. Leaning back against it, she sighed, then gave me a sweet smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I told her. “I thought you’d got lost on the way.”

“Your room is right next door to ours, silly,” Freya cooed.

“Come here, you,” I said to her and she padded across the room to stand at the foot of my bed.

“How come you’re dressed like that?” she asked, looking me up and down.

I caressed both legs through my new sheer stockings. “It feels naughty to wear sexy things like this. Don’t you like them?”

“Yeah, I definitely do. It’s just, I never saw you wear anything like that before.”

Freya began climbing onto the bed but I raised a hand to stop her. “Wait.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“I didn’t say you could sit on my bed, did I?” I said, teasing her.

“Aww, don’t be mean!” Freya whined.

“Stay there for the moment. First, I want to see you take your pyjamas off.”

Freya tutted and rolled her eyes at me. She pulled her pyjama bottoms down and stepped out of them, then unbuttoned her top, letting it fall to the floor. She stood at the bottom of my bed in her baby blue panties, and a surge of warmth rippled through my loins.

“Now put a hand down your knickers and play with yourself while I take this negligee off, okay?” I instructed her.

“Okay,” Freya replied, her hand disappearing down into her undies.

“That’s a good girl. It makes Mummy so hot when you do that.” I sat up and pulled my negligee up and over my head, then lay back against the pillows and squeezed my full breasts, rolling the nipples between my fingers until they were rock hard.

“Can you take your knickers off, please?” Freya asked, a hand toiling away between her legs.

“Oh, you want to see Mummy’s pussy?” I teased.

She nodded eagerly, her knuckles sliding up and down through the thin material of her panties.

Standing up on the bed, I slowly walked to the edge where my daughter was waiting. Her eyes went wide as I drew closer. “I think you should take them off,” I told her. “Seeing as you want to see what’s underneath so badly.”

Freya withdrew her hand from her knickers and reached for the waistband of mine. The telltale signs of arousal glistened on her fingers.

“Nice and slowly,” I said as she began to slide my knickers down. I stopped her as they reached my knees. “Would you like to give them a little sniff before you take them all the way off?”

She nodded bashfully and I gently took her face in both hands, pulling her towards me.

“That’s it, smell Mummy’s panties, baby,” I growled while my daughter breathed in the scent of the damp knickers stretched around my knees.

Making Freya smell my cunt should have been one perversion too many. I never would’ve considered doing anything this lewd with my husband. But where my little girl was concerned, it seemed my inhibitions were few and far between. She liked my smell. And I liked that she liked it.

“Is it nice?” I asked her.

Freya looked up at me and nodded, her eyes heavy with lust. My musky scent was clearly working its primaeval magic, sending signals to her developing mind and body. I stroked her hair, marvelling at the potency of the erotic sight before me.

But my throbbing cunt needed some attention, so I gently pushed her away. “Take them all the way off now,” I said, and she slid my panties down to my ankles, so I could easily step out of them.

Now nude but for my stockings, I stood over Freya and moved my feet apart, then spread my labia open, pushing hips out towards her. “Is this what you were hoping to see, little girl?” I hissed.

Freya stared at my cunt, no more than a foot away from her face, wearing a slightly intimidated expression. I’d never felt so dirty; so perverted. Never before had my sexuality manifested itself in such an aggressive manner. I tried to restrain myself, not wanting to take things too far and scare my daughter.

“Do you like it when I open myself for you like this?” I asked her. She nodded. “Yeah? Can you smell it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Freya said.

I sauntered back down the other end of the bed, glancing over my shoulder at Freya, giving her a seductive look and a great view of my bum before sitting down with my back against the headboard, legs spread wide open. “Take your panties off and come join me,” I told her.

Freya eagerly whipped her knickers off and climbed onto the bed, opposite me. She pulled her legs as far apart as she could, imitating my spread-eagled pose.

“Let’s finger our pussies for each other, baby,” I growled, and was immediately rewarded with the sight of Freya sliding a finger in and out of her bald cunt.

I shoved two fingers inside myself and frigged myself lewdly for my little girl’s benefit. “Oh, yes. That looks so sexy, Freya. Fuck your little pussy for me.”

“This is so amazing, doing this with you, Mum,” Freya told me. “I’ll bet none of the other girls at school get to touch themselves with their mums.”

“I’ll bet they don’t. And that’s why it has to be our special secret. I’d get into lots of trouble if anyone ever found out,” I told her as I worked my cunt up into a messy, musky lather.

“I won’t tell. I don’t ever want us to stop doing this,” Freya moaned.

Taking my dripping fingers out of my cunt, I smeared them over my stockings, leaving shiny trails over the fine silk. “See how wet I am, baby?”

“Wow, your stuff is so creamy… and there’s so much of it,” Freya marvelled as she played with herself.

“Mummy can get really messy when she’s excited,” I told her, planting my fingers back inside myself, roughly thrusting them in and out to generate more pussy juice. “Let’s see how sticky we can make these pretty new stockings.”

I wanted her to see how nasty I could be, to show her how daring I was, maybe even shock her a little bit. I coated my fingers in the milky secretions, then wiped them all over my stockings, leaving them glistening with juices.

“You’re so rude, Mum!” Freya told me, amazed at my perverse behaviour.

My eyes locked with hers, I slowly pulled my stockings down, first one and then the other, making a show of it. Still holding the second one, I climbed over my masturbating daughter. I stretched the sheer material out and brought it close, sliding it back and forth under her nose. “Look what you made me do on my nice new stockings, baby girl.”

Freya closed her eyes and frantically rubbed her clit until a collision of senses overwhelmed her and she exploded into orgasm underneath me. “Oh, Mum!” she squealed, her whole body stiffening; convulsing.

“That’s it, baby, come for Mummy. Good girl,” I soothed, running my fingers through her hair.

She finally lay there gazing up at me, her chest rising; falling as her climax subsided. “Oh, wow,” she panted, “orgasms are the – the best thing ever!”

“Let’s lie down together,” I suggested, and we stretched out side by side facing one another. My hand found her hip and the curve of her smooth bottom, fingertips caressing gently. “Can I have a kiss?” I asked her.

“Sure,” she replied and kissed me sweetly on the lips.

“That was nice,” I told her. And it was. But I knew it could be even nicer. “Now, how about one with tongues?”

Freya opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. “Like… a girlfriend kiss?”

“Yeah, it’ll be our little secret,” I whispered, holding a finger to my lips.

Freya smiled shyly and kissed me again, but this time our tongues met and mingled. She tasted sweet in my mouth, and as we both pulled away, I saw the laughter in her eyes – that we would deign to do something so wonderfully daring, so outrageous.

Her gaze settled on my breasts, and without much thought, I took one of her hands in mine. “It’s okay to touch them if you want,” I told her and placed it upon my tit.

Watching one another masturbate seemed to have advanced into touching and kissing. The line had been crossed. I’d told Sadie how I planned to do dirty things with my daughter, and perhaps that was merely my desire driving me in the heat of the moment. But now, just as I had accepted the developing sexual relationship with my best friend, so too was I willing to follow this incestuous accord with my little girl wherever it chose to take us.

Freya tentatively explored my breasts, her palm sliding over the erect nipples.

“You can squeeze them a bit harder if you like, they won’t break,” I assured her with a chuckle.

She kneaded and massaged my tits, the tip of her tongue poking out in adorable concentration. “It’s like making bread,” she muttered, perhaps more to herself than to me.

“Is it okay if I touch you, too?” I asked her. She nodded at me halfheartedly, barely listening to my words.

I ran a hand over her flat chest, over her tiny bee-sting titties, her skin wondrously soft against my fingers.

Freya looked up at me. “Mum?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can we maybe, um… touch each other’s pussies, please?”

I was too far past the point of no return to refuse. Of course we were going to touch each other there. How could we not? “Sure, baby. Let’s be naughty girls and finger each other.”

I reached between my daughter’s legs and traced her puffy lips with the tip of a finger, gliding through her moist, hairless slit.

In turn, she explored my fleshy, more mature cunt – her eager fingers here, there and everywhere, collecting creamy juices as they went about their business.

“Is this okay?” I asked her. I knew I wanted this, but I needed to make sure she did too, that she was happy with this new development in our relationship.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to find your hole so I can put my finger in,” Freya told me quite candidly.

I took her finger and guided it to the entrance of my cunt. “There we go. Push it in.” She slowly penetrated me, and I gasped in delight. “That’s it, in and out. So good.” I wanted more, though. “Put another one in,” I groaned and was rewarded with a second digit inside me.

I eased my own finger into Freya’s pussy and gently fucked her, being careful not to go too deep.

“Do it harder, please, Mum,” Freya begged me and I picked up the tempo a little, my finger making little squelchy sounds as it slid in and out of her. She matched me thrust for thrust, fucking me deeper and harder, a ring of frothy, creamy juices forming around her knuckles.

“Ooh, yeah,” I hissed. “Fuck Mummy, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl… not really,” Freya told me in a faraway voice.

“You’ll always be my little girl,” I said, and kissed her on the mouth.

“Fuck me, Freya! Make me come!” I cried, and as my orgasm burst to the surface, I held my daughter’s fingers deep inside me, whimpering; moaning while my spent cunt twitched and spasmed exquisitely. “Freya! Oh, baby girl, that feels so nice!” I let it wash over me, then relaxed, slumping against the bed.

“Well, you could have made me do an orgasm, too,” Freya pouted, and I realised that, in my urgency to come, I’d pulled my finger out of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. Do you want me to finger you again so you can come too?”

Freya flashed a wicked grin. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind rubbing my pussy on yours and making myself do an orgasm that way, if it’s okay with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her frankness. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get on top of you,” she told me.

“Hold on. Let’s try it another way.” I sat back against the pillows with my legs open wide. “Now come and sit on me sideways,” I said, arranging her on top of me until she was in my lap, her pussy snug against mine.

“I never did it this way before,” she said to me, excited at this new, naughty opportunity.

“This is called tribbing, by the way,” I told her. “Off you go then, sexpot. Rub away.” I swatted her lightly on the bum.

With a giggle, Freya began sliding her pussy back and forth on mine. I cupped her bum cheeks and pulled her in for a tighter fit, warm juices lubricating our erotic endeavours and infusing the air around us with an intoxicating musk.

“It feels so good!” Freya gushed as she humped against me.

Suddenly remembering something important, I paused in my grinding. “Oh, I have a present for you,” I said, retrieving a pair of lacy knickers from under my pillow. “Guess whose these are?” I held them mere inches from her face.

“Aren’t they yours?”

“Nope, guess again.”

She made a face. “I dunno, tell me!”

I draped the dirty panties across her face and took hold of her arse again, grinding my cunt against hers. “They’re a present from your teacher.”

“Miss Laine?! These are Miss Laine’s panties?!” Freya exclaimed, astonished. She pressed them to her nose and took a deep sniff.

“I thought you might like them,” I said as we settled back into a hot, sticky rhythm of pussy grinding. “Fuck your mummy, baby girl. Rub your sticky little cunt on me,” I was barely in control, spewing out the nasty words before I could stop them.

I remembered back when the girls were younger and I would bounce them on my lap, and how they would giggle hysterically. This was like a dirty, corrupted, wholly perverted version of that innocent game, and somehow that made it even better.

“Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, baby girl!” I panted, thrusting myself against my daughter as she rode me. “Fuck Mummy’s cunt!”

“Mum! I’m… I’m gonna do it on you, okay?!” Freya squealed.

Acting on a sudden impulse, I stuck a finger up her arsehole. Freya’s body jerked violently as she came against me.

I came too, arching my pelvis up so our cunts were mashed together. “Oh, yes! Come on me! Come on me, little girl! Oh, fuck!”

Freya fell forward upon me and I put my arms and legs around her, kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her. “Good girl… that was so nice… so, so nice… you’re such a big girl to make Mummy feel like that…”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep on me, Sadie’s panties still clutched in her hand. I gently laid her down next to me. Soon I would carry my daughter back to her room, but there was one more thing I needed to do first.

Reaching for my laptop, I opened it up and made a video call to Sadie.

My best friend appeared on screen, sleepy eyed; her hair a mess. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” she mumbled.

“No, nothing wrong,” I told her in a hushed voice.

“You woke me up, you cow,” Sadie groaned.

I spun the laptop round so that it was facing my naked ten-year-old daughter, peacefully slumbering with her teacher’s dirty knickers held to her face.

“Oh…” Sadie whispered, barely audible through the tiny speakers.

I spoke softly, taking on a playful cadence. “We had ever so much fun tonight, Miss Laine.”

I saw her shiver. “So I see,” she said, her voice tinged with desire. “I’d love to join you.”

“Soon,” I told her. “Soon…”

On to Chapter Eight!