Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By JetBoy

Kelly was out on her fourth date with Bart. Mom was out playing mah-jongg with her friends, like she did every Friday. I was idly thumbing through a cheap sci-fi paperback, passing the hours until Kelly got home.

Suddenly I heard a key opening the front door. It couldn’t be Mom, because she always came in through the garage. Besides, she’d only left fifteen minutes ago. So I figured it had to be my sister. Glancing up at the clock, I was surprised to see that it was only 8:30. What was Kelly doing home so soon?

I heard quiet footsteps in the foyer, and then Kelly came into the living room. The thoughtful, serious look on her face puzzled me… I could tell that something had happened. But what?

“Kelly… why are you home so early? It’s only–”

“I need to talk to you, Kris,” she said quietly.

“Well… sure,” I replied nervously. “What — what’s the matter?”

“Let’s go upstairs,” Kelly softly murmured.

My heart was pounding as we climbed the stairs to our room. Something was wrong. Was Kelly going to tell me that we couldn’t fool around anymore, that she had to be true to Bart? Would she never kiss or touch me again? The thought of losing what I had with my sister had me paralyzed with fear.

I sat numbly on my bed as Kelly closed the door behind her. She gazed at me for a long moment, and I felt as if I were about to burst into tears. Then she spoke.

“I… I broke up with Bart tonight.”

I was confused. “Why?” I asked softly.

Kelly sat next to me and looked at her hands. “I don’t love him.” Bewildered, I was about to speak when my sister raised her face to mine, transfixing me with her shining eyes. “I love you,” she whispered.

It was like the earth shifted beneath my feet. I could feel the blood draining from my face as her words hit home. My sister… in love with me? I felt exhilarated and utterly terrified at the same time. Unable to speak, I just stared at her, my mouth slack.

Kelly lowered her face, her eyes brimming with tears. “I’m… I’m s-sorry, Kris,” she gulped. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” I could see her struggling not to cry. “We were just having fun, I thought… m-making each other, you know, feel good…” She sighed. “But, somehow… you and me — it became, well, a lot more.” She raised her face, and her eyes met mine. “And I fell in love with you. With my own sister!” A sob burst from her throat.

A torrent of feelings raced through me. I quickly knelt before Kelly and grabbed her hand. “Please don’t cry,” I whispered. I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm, then gazed up at my sweet, wonderful sister, my heart brimming with emotion. “Oh, Kelly,” I said softly, “I love you, too.” I drew her into my arms, pulling her down onto the bed with me.

Her moist eyes held a question, and I answered. “Listen… I’m glad you broke up with Bart. I want you all to myself. I want to be your girlfriend.”

My sister’s face began to slowly light up. “Y-you do?”

I was practically dizzy with relief, unable to restrain a giggle. “You… you goofball. You nearly scared me to death, you know that?” Her eyes furrowed as I tried to explain. “I thought that you were gonna tell me you didn’t want to… be with me any more. That’s what I was afraid of. That you were about to dump me.”

“No way,” Kelly said emphatically, a smile illuminating her face like a sunrise. She squeezed my hand. “I’d never dump you, sis.”

“Better not,” I murmured, rising to my feet. She stood, too, and I wrapped my arms around her, holding my sister close. My lips brushed her ear as I whispered, “Take my clothes off, Kelly. Make love to me.”

Her mouth found mine, and we shared a warm kiss that quickly grew passionate. My hands slid down Kelly’s back to fondle her bottom, and she hummed her approval. Breaking away, she began to fumble for the buttons on the old flannel shirt of hers that I wore around the house. Clumsy in her excitement, it took Kelly longer to undress me than it should have, and she made little impatient sounds as she worked.

Finally, though, I stood before my sister, pulsing with anticipation as she drank in the sight of my nude body.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “God, how could I have gone out on all those dates with Bart, when the whole time I had you here, right under my nose?” She shook her head. “I was actually making out with you, Kris… and I still didn’t understand how I really felt, not until tonight.”

I drew closer, reaching for the bottom of the cute pink sweater she wore. “It doesn’t matter, Kel. I don’t think I knew I was in love with you, either — but I sure do now.”

With that, I began to strip my sexy sister. I took my time, wanting to savor the moment — pulling her sweater up and off, unhooking her skirt and letting it slip to the floor, unfastening her bra and sliding it over her silky arms, finally kneeling to slowly tug her panties down to ring her ankles. Somehow, the sight of Kelly’s bare feet stepping out of her undies totally thrilled me.

I gazed up at my sister, now completely naked. Wrapping my arms around her waist, I buried my face in the softness of her tummy, nuzzling her there, basking in the sweet perfume of Kelly’s skin.

“C’mon, Kris,” she cooed, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Let’s get into bed.”

Moments later, my beautiful sister and I were lying beneath the sheets and kissing hungrily, as we’d done so many times before. Yet now it was different, completely new. For the first time, our lovemaking wasn’t a game — this time it was all about us.

We kept the pace slow and easy at first, exploring each other with a genuine sense of wonder. When I kissed Kelly’s breasts, or sucked on her fingers, or stroked her thighs, I kept telling myself, This is my lover’s body. I was greedy, ravenous for my big sister.

At one point we were lying entwined, mouths locked together, tongues dancing back and forth as we fingered each other’s pussies. I was moaning, on the verge of exploding, when Kelly suddenly broke away.

“Ooooohh!” I cried, frustrated. “What’re you doing, Kel? I w-was so close!”

“Shhhhh,” she soothed, touching my lips. “That’s why, sis. I didn’t want you to finish just yet.” With that, Kelly moved down my body, leaving a trail of kisses along the way until she lay sprawled between my legs. “I’ve thought about doing this to you for days — only I didn’t have the nerve, not until now.”

Then she began to kiss my pussy.

How do I describe it, that first time my sister went down on me? I’d heard some vague, hushed descriptions of oral sex from girls I knew, but nothing I took seriously. The idea of getting kissed “down there,” seemed more, well, ridiculous than anything.

But when I felt Kelly’s mouth touch my bare slit, I was lost to all reason.

Her kisses were incredibly tender at first, like whispered words caressing my sex. Then I felt her lips part as Kelly began to kiss me like a lover, the tip of her tongue joining in. Then she took that first long lick, trailing from the cleft of my bottom up to the tip of the clit.

Things got all crazy and mixed up in my head after that. My sister was going down on me while I stared sightlessly at the ceiling, her mouth and tongue taking me places I’d never been, never imagined could exist.

Like every time Kelly got me off, I felt the storm build inside me — gently at first, then swelling like a gray cloud filled with rain, the grumbling of thunder mounting into a deep roar. But now there was the warming glow of my sister’s love, mingling with the storm’s fury, feeding my pleasure. She loves me, I kept thinking, radiant with joy. Kelly is in love with me!

Then she took my clit between her lips and sucked at it like a tiny nipple — and everything came crashing down.

I’d never imagined feeling so wonderful. Like drinking from the sun, my soul warmed by its golden nectar. I trembled and shook helplessly, unable to do much more than absorb pleasure. And pleasure there was, in abundance. It seemed to last forever.

Finally, though, I lay limp and spent, just conscious enough to register Kelly taking me into her arms, nuzzling my cheek. Without thinking I turned my face to hers, lips parting to receive my big sister’s kiss.

Kelly’s mouth was wet from my pussy, and I moaned with delight to know that I was tasting myself as our tongues lazily tangled.

I felt so mellow and at peace with everything that I could have fallen asleep right then — only I realized with a fresh surge of excitement that my sister was waiting for me to make love to her.

Suddenly filled with renewed energy, I grabbed a squealing Kelly and wrestled her onto her back, then claimed her mouth in a rough kiss. I was on fire, bent on making my big sister come like never before.

Moving down Kelly’s body, I buried my face in her breasts — kissing and licking them all over, teasing the nipples with tiny bites that made her squeal.

Usually, I liked to linger over Kelly’s chest, spending a long while pleasuring her titties with my mouth and hands. But right then, all I could think of was her wet pussy and how badly I needed to get down between those beautiful bare legs and lick.

Before I knew it, I was on my belly, staring at her vulva and moistening my lips. Kelly’s sex looked lovely and smelled divine. She had a neatly trimmed triangle of pubic curls, a darker shade of blonde than the hair on her head.

With trembling fingers I opened her, revealing fiery pink flesh that shone with wetness. That’s her cunt, I thought, the word that I had never spoken before now echoing in my mind. My sister’s cunt.

Slowly, as if I had all the time in the world, I drew close, Kelly’s thighs brushing my cheeks. I parted my lips and, with the very tip of the tongue, traced along her opening as if it were a mouth.

“Ohhh, Kris,” she whispered, “th-that feels amazing…”

The taste of her, rich and thick, made me crave more — and I helped myself, covering Kelly’s sex with my mouth, my tongue probing into her.

Somehow I instinctively knew what to do; how to pleasure Kelly. Perhaps it was the sisterly bond between us, the tie of shared blood. Every swipe of my tongue had her mewling with delight, each kiss and playful nibble sent a quiver through her body that I could feel.

With quivering hands, Kelly cradled my head, held me to her while I licked and sucked at the entrance to her womanly center, my sister’s fluids flowing freely. I drank from her.

Kelly’s clitoris enticed me. As a young girl who regularly masturbated, I was on intimate terms with that special part of a woman’s body, that fleshy key that opened the gateway to delight. Licking a path along the delicate opening to her vagina, I gave my sister’s clit a tiny flick of the tongue.

“Oooooh!” Kelly squeaked. “Omigod, Kris… k-keep doing that!”

Eager to oblige, I closed my lips around the tiny bulb and began to suckle.

Kelly’s response was immediate, her slender frame first shuddering helplessly — little quiverings that soon grew almost violent as my big sister began to come.

A low moan issued from her throat, quickly mounting into a wild cry. Her thighs squeezed my face so tightly it hurt, but I soldiered on — nursing at Kelly while she squirmed beneath me, lost in ecstasy.

Finding my sister’s clitoris with a finger, I began to clumsily masturbate her, my mouth sliding down to cover Kelly’s dripping cunt once more. Her honey, thick and luscious, trickled down my throat as I sucked at the warm, fleshy opening, thirsting for more.

Suddenly she was thrusting me away, gasping, “Kris, stop! I can’t — I c-can’t — I can’t…”

Startled, I raised myself, falling back on my haunches, and watched Kelly as she sank back into her pillow, breath escaping from her like a slowly deflating beach ball.

She lay quietly for a while, motionless but for the rise and fall of her glistening breasts. Then her eyes slowly drifted open, and she gave me a sleepy smile. “C’mere, you,” she purred, beckoning me to her with a finger.

I nestled into my sister, and she cradled my face in her hands, gazing at me with adoring eyes. “I love you, Kris. Really love you.”

“I love you too, Kelly,” I sighed, every atom of me radiant with happiness. We shared a sweet, lazy French kiss, then I rolled onto my back, lying next to my sister. Her hand crept into mine.

Neither of us spoke for awhile. I guess I was overwhelmed right then, my mind whirling with the crazy reality of what had just happened between Kelly and me. How could sisters be in love with one another? There was nothing to compare these feelings to, no point of reference. I was an explorer in an unfamiliar land, making my way without map or compass.

Finally, Kelly turned to me. “Maybe it’s wrong for me to feel this way about you, sis,” she murmured, “but I don’t think so. Actually, I don’t even care if it’s wrong or not. I want us to be together, for always. Until we’re both weird old ladies — living in a big house full of cats!” She giggled, then gave me a shy smile. “What’cha think, Kris? Wanna be mine, for ever and ever?”

Tugging at Kelly’s shoulder, I coaxed her into my arms, her body resting atop mine. I placed a tiny kiss on my sister’s chin, then nuzzled the softness of her neck. “Yeah… absolutely. I’ll never want anyone like I do you.”

Our mouths came together again, and we kissed for a long while, our tongues playing little teasing games until I felt my desire mounting once more.

But Kelly broke away with a sigh. “Damn, sis… I want to make love to you again. But Mom’s gonna be home before long. We’ve gotta clean ourselves up.”

“That’s cool,” I replied. “No school tomorrow, after all… we’ll just pick up where we left off after she goes to bed. Hey, wanna take a shower with me?”

“Oooohh, great idea!” Kelly squealed. “I like the way you think, Kris. We can get clean and dirty at the same time!”

Hand in hand, we padded naked into the bathroom that adjoined our room, giggling like little kids while we climbed into the shower.

Was that ever an amazing experience! Kelly and I took turns soaping one another up, then we rubbed our slippery bodies together beneath the flowing water like we were dirty dancing, kissing again and again and again. Then Kelly’s hand found its way between my legs, and she began to masturbate me. Unwilling to let my big sister have all the fun, I sought out her pussy, exploring her with my fingers.

“Yeah, that’s it,” she panted. “Just… just like that, baby sister.”

I was licking her neck, holding Kelly to me as she slowly drew her nails down my back with her free hand. Then that hand was fondling my ass, two fingers probing in between to play with my butthole. I’d never even thought of touching her there, but it felt great.

The whole thing was freaky, but fantastic and wild — the way sex always was wild in the grownup paperback novels that the girls at school passed around under the teachers’ noses.

Before very long Kelly and I were clutching each other tightly, hanging on for dear life as we came.

My head was spinning like a yo-yo, and the heat we’d built up in the shower must have really gotten to me, because the next thing I remember is finding myself sitting on the slick tile, slumped against the wall. Kelly had just turned off the water and was reaching down to grasp my arm.

“C’mon, Kris,” she spoke soothingly, helping me to my feet. “Damn, you scared me for a second there — I thought you’d passed out!”

“I’m okay,” I muttered, though I still allowed Kelly to lead me from the shower stall. The air was cooler outside, and it managed to clear most of the fog from my mind.

“Hurry up and get dry!” Kelly demanded, yanking a towel from the rack and thrusting it at me. “Mom’s gonna be home before long… we spent too much time in the shower.” Grabbing the matching towel for herself, she began to vigorously rub her body down.

Moments later, my sister and I were struggling into our night wear — sweatpants and a faded old Elton John t-shirt for Kelly, candy-striped pajamas for me. Not a stitch on underneath, of course.

By the time we heard the loud hum of the electric garage door that signaled Mom’s arrival home, Kelly and I were sprawled out on the overstuffed sofa with the TV on, pretending to watch Johnny Carson.

“Hey, kids,” she murmured as she peeked into the living room.

“Hey, Mom,” we dutifully answered, then I added, “How’d the mah-jongg go?”

Entering the room, she set her purse on the end table. “Pretty good… I came out about fifteen, sixteen dollars ahead.” She glanced at my sister. “What about you — how was your big date?”

Kelly shrugged. “Oh, I dunno… I think I may be over Bart. He’s handsome and all, but all he can talk about is football, football, football. Gets dull as dishwater after a while.”

Mom snorted. “Well, so much for that grand passion. I suppose I should be glad that you’re discussing sports instead of making out.”

“Oh, we did some of that, too…” Kelly grinned.

“Do me a favor — spare the details,” Mom protested, raising both hands as if in defense. “Just don’t make me a grandmother for at least ten more years, okay?”

Kelly gave me a quick smile. “I promise.”

“Good.” Mom slipped out of her coat; hung it on the rack. “Honestly, I never really saw you as the kind of girl to be dating athletes, anyhow. I suspect you’ll probably end up with a brainy type. Good-looking, of course!” she added with a laugh.

My sister glanced at me again, a light in her eyes that made me a puddle inside. “Hmmm… y’know, Mom, I think you’re probably right.”

I could feel myself blushing hotly; luckily, Mom didn’t notice. “Well, I’m turning in,” she said, pausing to yawn. “You girls don’t stay up too late, okay? I don’t care if it is Saturday, you’re not lounging in bed until noon.”

“Okay, Mom,” I said. “Night-night.”

“Sweet dreams,” Kelly murmured.

“Night, girls.” Mom gave us a brief salute, then left. We heard the muffled cadence of footsteps, growing fainter as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom.

Kelly leaned toward me. “You go upstairs first,” she said, keeping her voice low. “Get undressed and into bed. I’ll watch this for another ten minutes or so, then come up and join you.”

I was grinning in delight, already craving more of my sister. Darting in to plant a brief kiss on her mouth, I got up, making my way to the stairs. Glancing back at Kelly, I felt a surge of renewed lust as she slowly licked her lips, reaching up to fondle her left breast, her eyes burning into mine.

Entering our dark bedroom my heart was racing. I quickly divested myself of my pajama top, stepped out of the bottoms, then slid naked between the cool sheets of my big sister’s bed. The dim illumination of Kelly’s clock spelled out the time: 11:23.

The next few minutes seemed to inch by, moving slowly as a glacier. I tried and failed to keep myself from looking again and again at the clock, wishing I’d told her, Ten minutes? Make it five, lover.

The thought of that last word made me shiver deliciously, and I passed the time letting the idea echo in my mind: Lover. My sister Kelly is my lover. I longed to shout it to the sky, to let the universe know about this amazing thing that had happened to me. To us.

Thankfully, it was only seven minutes before Kelly entered the bedroom. Closing the door behind her, she stepped into the spilled moonlight and posed sexily for me, hands on her thighs. “Hey there, baby sister.”

To this day, I still recall how beautiful she was at that moment — and how much I hungered to have her in my arms. “Hey, Kelly,” I whispered. “Come be with me.”

Her arms crossed as she reached down to grasp the hem of the t-shirt she wore, drawing it up and off to bare her breasts. Even in the pale, buttery light, I could see that her nipples were erect.

Turning around, Kelly planted both legs wide apart, shifting her hips to and fro like a belly dancer, but slowly, almost lazily. I felt the heat of lust bloom inside as I drank in the sight of her sexy movements, knowing that she was putting on this erotic display for my benefit.

For an instant I almost felt sorry for Bart Davis. What was he doing right then? Probably at home, glumly fondling his dick and moping over the hot night he’d expected to have with my big sister. The night I was enjoying instead.

Tucking her thumbs beneath the waistband of her sweatpants, Kelly slid them down, exposing the creamy globes of her buttocks one tantalizing inch at a time. I was hypnotized; heart smashing against my rib cage, the fierce, ravenous need for my sister squeezing me like the paws of some enormous beast. I wanted to leap from the bed and fall upon Kelly, take her on the floor where she stood, make her scream my name.

She pushed her sweats down to her ankles, straightening to step from them, pausing to pose for me. Her ass seemed to glow in the spilled light; a new moon, even lovelier than the one in the sky.

It occurred to me that, having lavished so much attention on other parts of Kelly’s body, I’d neglected that luscious bottom. Well, I’d make up for that soon enough. I wanted to hug it, caress it, shower it with kisses.

Kelly slowly turned and advanced toward the bed, the pad, pad, pad of her barefooted tread matching the thumping of my heart. Then my sister was beneath the sheets with me, her naked body pressed tightly against mine, mouths and tongues joined in a ravenous kiss, legs entwined.

I bathed in the clean, fresh smell of her, craving Kelly so desperately that I ached inside — never mind that we’d last made love less than an hour ago. We were in each other’s arms, morning seemed ages away, and the night was ours.

*****

From then on, Kelly and I were a couple; lovers in secret. We shared our bodies, our sex, our souls nearly every night, and in the daytime when we could. My sister and I exchanged valentines, wrote love poems, even bought each other rings with money we’d saved.

In order to maintain the illusion of being “normal,” Kelly occasionally dated boys; I did the same a couple of years later. Since neither of us would do more than kiss — and not much of that — the guys would usually grow impatient and move on before long. I had a stroke of luck at fifteen, finding a gay male friend named Edwin who needed his own camouflage. He and I kept a fake relationship going through my last three years of high school. I told him I was a lesbian, though he never knew about my sister.

We eventually had to confess the truth to our mother, not long after I started college. Concealing our love from her required too much effort and calculation for us to keep up, and the resulting stress was making us both crazy. Besides, we felt guilty about keeping Mom in the dark about such a huge part of our lives.

So one day, Kelly and I sat Mom down and broke the news to her as gently as we could. I was a bundle of nerves, and though my big sister seemed calm, I knew from the endless discussions we’d had on the topic that she was frightened, too. We simply had no idea how our mother would respond.

Imagine our surprise, then, when Mom informed us that she’d known our secret for several years! Kelly and I sat there gaping at her like idiots while she explained.

The seeds of her suspicion were planted, incredibly enough, by a certain look that she’d seen my sister and I exchange one evening. “I’ve been around the block a few times,” she said, “and I know what it means when two people look at each other that way, even if they are sisters.”

Once the idea had taken root, the signs of our sexual intimacy were easy enough to pick up on. We always shared my bed, then Kelly messed hers up in the morning so it looked as if it had been slept in. “You girls should have used the other bed now and then,” Mom told us. “One set of sheets was always a lot cleaner whenever I washed them.”

It turned out that our mother was less upset about us having sex than she was at our lack of honesty; she had always encouraged us to be open with her about anything and everything. This was the first time since we were kids that Kelly and I had worked so hard to deceive her, and admitting that made us feel ashamed.

Mom admitted that she didn’t really understand how sisters could fall in love. “Maybe murder each other,” she shrugged. “Lord knows your Aunt Linda and I came close to that a time or two!” She couldn’t help but worry about the huge risks my sister and I were taking; still, Mom gave us her blessing, taking Kelly and I into her arms when we both began to cry.

Our dear mother is gone now, and more than three decades have flown by since that momentous night when my sister and I kissed for the first time. We are still together, still lovers.

Kelly and I live in a small California town, a place where no one knows of the family bond that links us. We have kept our secret well, even from the few women who have shared our bed.

Both of us have indulged in brief flings and one-nighters with other female partners; never anything serious. Somehow Kelly and I know without saying so that we’re together for the long haul, come what may. It’s a beautiful valentine of a love story, and being part of it is the best thing that ever happened to me.

*****

When I first posted this story at Leslita two years ago, I dedicated it to Cheryl Taggert, one of the first authors of lesbian erotica that I encountered on the internet — and now my beloved partner at Juicy Secrets. From the first, her stories were always guaranteed to get my motor purring, and I quickly learned to keep an eye out for new ones. Joining forces with her and Naughty Mommy at this site has been one of the highlights of my year. I can’t give her a hug or a bouquet of flowers, so this little story of mine will have to suffice. Love ya, Cheryl.

By JetBoy

I’ve always looked up to my big sister Kelly. She is intelligent, sweet and beautiful, and I emulated her in every way. I used to dream of being as pretty as she was. We had shared the same bedroom since I was a little girl, and were close enough to actually prefer living together.

My sister and I were both incredibly bright, though very different in temperament. Kelly was the outgoing type, both brainy and popular. She was one of the stars of the debate team, and performed in nearly all of the plays put on by the theater department. In fact, she’d played the lead in the school production of Our Town — Emily, the girl who marries young and dies in childbirth — and gave such a great performance that she had most of the audience in tears, me and Mom included.

I was the quiet, smart kid; always with my nose buried in a book or writing poems, not especially into being noticed or making a splash. I saw being popular as too much work, preferring to have a few carefully chosen friends who really understood me. And my very best friend in the world was Kelly. I’d known for a long, long time how lucky I was to have an older sibling who didn’t see me as an irritant, or behave as if I didn’t exist.

Kelly made it her mission to assist me through my awkward preteen years. She was always willing to share the secrets of her maturing body with me as she grew into womanhood. Kelly showed me when her breasts started to develop, and I remember gazing in awe at her budding chest. When I got my period for the first time, her soothing words and little kindnesses made what might have been an awful experience into a happy one. She even let me know when she began to grow pubic hair, baring her private parts to me so I could see what was happening to her.

I felt happy for my sister, seeing what an amazing young woman she had ripened into — but I couldn’t help but feel impatient as well, since it sometimes seemed like I was taking forever to catch up. When she began to date, I wanted to as well, and I began to look at the boys in my class differently.

When I was twelve, and Kelly fifteen, she got asked out on her first really big date. That’s when our sisterly relationship started to become something more.

It was 1983. Ronald Reagan was president, Michael Jackson ruled the airwaves, and girls in our part of Virginia were still more or less expected to stay virgins until they married. Of course, a lot of them didn’t, but most of the girls at least pretended that they were chaste. No one wanted to be labeled a slut, after all.

By this time, Kelly had gone to a movie or two with boys from her class, but nothing serious. Then one day she came home, beside herself with excitement, and rushed me to our bedroom to tell me the news: an older boy had asked her out — none other than Bart Davis, the junior quarterback on the high school football team! I squealed as she told me about how he had asked her to go to the school dance with him, and how all the other girls were jealous. We went on talking for the rest of the day about how wonderful it was going to be for her.

Kelly was floating on Cloud Nine for the rest of the week. She confided in me that she was hoping that he would ask her to go steady, and shared whispered conversations with me at night about how awesome it would be to have Bart for her boyfriend. The dance was planned for Saturday night, and we were already planning her outfit on Wednesday.

But that Thursday, some of the older girls at school gave Kelly a hard time — saying she was still just a kid, teasing her about being too young and inexperienced to go out with a guy like Bart. She came home fighting back tears. It was her first real date, and she was suddenly afraid.

“Kel, what’s the big deal?” I asked her as we sat together on her bed on Thursday night. “I mean, like, he asked you out. You’ve gone out with boys before.”

“But this is different, Kris,” she told me. “This is my first real date at a dance and all, and he’s an older guy. Like, what if he wants to kiss me? I — I’ve never kissed a boy before… not a real kiss, anyway.”

“You haven’t?” I asked her incredulously.

“No,” she told me, “just a peck on the lips with Dan when we went to the movies. That was nothing.” She started to cry. “That’s what I’m worried about. He is going to, to expect me to know how to kiss him, and I’ve never even done it. If I mess it up, the other girls will find out — and they’ll never let me h-hear the end of it.” She was sobbing now. “Everyone w-will laugh at me, Kris!”

I wrapped my arms around Kelly and held her close. She continued to cry as we hugged. I wanted to help her out so badly, but had no idea how. I mean, this was my older sister, the girl I idolized, who I’d always thought of as being so much more worldly than me — weeping in my arms, terrified of flubbing her first kiss.

I patted her back consolingly. “You should practice kissing before you go out with him, Kel,” I murmured.

She gazed helplessly at me. “Who c-could I get to do that?” she cried. “If I asked any boy to help me learn how to kiss and the word got out, I’d be finished at school. Everyone would think I was a total geek!”

“Well… what about one of your girl friends?” I replied. “Like Lynn. She’d help you out, wouldn’t she?”

Kelly slowly shook her head. “I couldn’t ask another girl to kiss me, Kris. What if she told someone? I mean, Lynn’s a real friend, but she can’t keep a secret. And if that got around at school…” She shook her head again. “No way. I wouldn’t dare.”

I grimaced. “Yeah, you’re right. Lame idea.”

Suddenly Kelly sat back and stared at me. “W-would you try it with me, Kris?” she blurted, taking me completely by surprise. “Like, you and I can practice kissing together… couldn’t we? That way I’ll totally know how to do it by Saturday!” Her eyes were bright with excitement.

Her request took me by surprise — I didn’t know what to say! She was my sister, and I did love her, but I’d certainly never thought about kissing her that way. Heck, I’d never even thought about kissing a girl before. Back then, fooling around with someone of your own sex was not the available option it is today.

Still… her suggestion did seem kinda interesting. Weird, but interesting.

“Come on, Kris — it’ll be fun!” she squealed, enthused by this answer to her problem. “I mean, like, you’re my best friend, and we can learn together.”

“Yeah, but…” I started, not sure how I really felt about doing something like that with Kelly. She pleaded with me, though, and what little resistance I had soon faded away.

“Look, sis… you are going to want to know how to kiss someday, right?” she asked, her hand on my arm. “I mean, you’ll be dating yourself in a couple of years. Just think — you’ll probably be the only girl in your grade who’ll know what to do!”

Okay, that sold me on the idea. I smiled and said “All right.”

“Really?” she cried, clapping her hands. “Oh, Kris, this is going to be so great…” Then she fell silent, gazing at me shyly. It was awkward for a moment, the two of us staring at each other.

She took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s do this. Why don’t you pretend that you’re a guy, and it’s our first date, and we’re parked in your car up at Douglas Point.” That was the local make-out spot.

Kelly fell silent and closed her eyes, waiting for me to make the first move.

I trembled inside as I slowly moved towards my sister, bringing my face to hers. Our lips came together in a soft, slow kiss.

We sat there for a moment, our lips pressed together, and I felt Kelly slowly wrap her arms around me. I felt her body press against mine, pushing me back onto the bed, then she shifted so that we lay side by side, our mouths still pressed together, both of us clad in our usual sleeping attire, t-shirts and panties.

Then her tongue slipped into my mouth, and I melted.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I was responding to my sister. Our tongues met, touching tentatively at first as we began to explore, our bodies beginning to throb with heat. It was my first French kiss ever, and I was so excited I was practically shaking!

My big sister and I were making out on her bed, and I loved it! My body was tingling, pulsing with new desires and sensations as we continued to kiss. Many years later, I still get chills when I think about my first “practice” with Kelly, and how happily I savored the sweetness of her mouth on mine.

Suddenly Kelly’s lips left mine, and I nearly protested — but then she was nuzzling my jawline, and I leaned back, mouth falling open as she slowly kissed a pathway down my neck. I adored the softness of her lips against my skin, her tongue tracing the hollow of my throat. She had shifted on top of me by this time, our legs entwined, and we slowly started to grind against one another. Things were getting quite heated when I pushed her head back and moved my lips to her neck.

“Oh Kris, that’s really nice,” she purred. I was kissing her neck like she had mine, tongue trailing along my sister’s beautiful skin, our bodies slowly sliding together as our embrace became hotter and more passionate.

Our kissing continued on for many minutes, both of us loving this mutual first experience at making out. When we eventually broke our embrace we both giggled and hugged one another, telling each other that it was a good thing that we’d just done, feeling happy and thrilled that we now knew how to kiss.

I had blissful dreams that night, reliving the sensation of my sister’s sweet tongue in my mouth.

The next morning was a bit awkward at first. At one point we were both naked at the same time, and there was an instant of sheepish embarrassment when our eyes met. It was a very weird moment that lasted for a few heartbeats, then we broke out laughing.

“Thanks, Kris,” she said, reaching out to touch my bare shoulder. “You really helped me last night. I’ll tell you all about how it went with Bart when I get home.”

I ended up daydreaming through most of my classes, thoughts of kissing my sister stuck in my head. I also found myself observing the boys around me in a new way, and I pictured several guys that I liked kissing me like my sister had done. My body was awash with new feelings, and I drifted home in a happy daze.

The wait was agonizing, as all I wanted was for Kelly to come home and tell me about her date. What I wanted even more was to kiss her again, but I wasn’t sure how she felt about that. After all, if she had a boyfriend of her own, why would she bother making out with her kid sister?.

I tossed and turned under the covers, growing increasingly restless as I waited for her. Suddenly I heard feet treading up the stairs, and sat upright as the door quietly opened and Kelly slipped inside.

She was positively radiant, smiling hugely, and clearly glad to see that I was still awake.

“Let me get cleaned up, and I’ll tell you everything!” she announced, then darted into the bathroom. I waited for her, beside myself with excitement. She was finally home, the moment of truth at hand.

She practically raced back into our room in her nightshirt, jumping into my bed before I could speak and seizing me in a big hug.

“He did it, he kissed me!” she exclaimed as she bounced on my bed, unable to keep from grinning. “It was so wild. We were alone, and he started to kiss me, and then he Frenched me. I’m so glad I got to practice with you, Kris!”

I was delighted that I’d been able to help my big sister, and my heart began to beat faster when she told me, “Y’know, the funny thing is, you kiss better than he does.” She placed a hand on my arm. “Wanna practice some more?”

“Yeah!” I replied immediately with a vigorous nod.

Kelly wrapped her arms around me and our mouths met, lips quickly parting, tongues meeting and mating. As our kiss deepened, we easily shifted about on the bed so that her thigh was pressing between my legs and mine rested between hers. I felt giddy with mixed pleasure and excitement when our bodies began to grind together — gently at first, then with a rising intensity.

Suddenly she drew back. “Would you do something else for me?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her tone. I was nearly out of breath, but managed to nod. Kelly had me so turned on that I was ready to agree to anything she wanted.

“I’m going on another date with Bart next Wednesday,” she told me, her fingers brushing my lips. I flicked at her fingertips with my tongue, not completely following what she was saying, I just wanted to kiss her more. At last we were on equal ground, both of us discovering things together.

What she said next definitely got my attention, though.

“The thing is, he’s older, and more experienced than me,” she told me as I took her finger into my mouth and sucked at it. “I think he’s going to try going to second base with me on our next date. I want to make sure I’m ready for him, so… would you, um, touch me here?” She gestured to her breasts.

I just stared at her as she brought her face back to mine, and we began to kiss again. She paused to shrug out of her bathrobe, leaving her in t-shirt and panties, then shifted so that she was beneath me and I was on top.

I knew what she was waiting for, but I was nervous. I mean, my own sister wanted me to feel her up! Too timid to make my move, I just kept kissing Kelly until she spoke again.

“Go ahead, Kris — I want you to,” she told me, taking my hand and gently pressing it against her chest.

My heart raced as I cupped the soft mound through Kelly’s t-shirt, slowly spreading my fingers apart. She moaned in response, then her mouth crushed into mine, her tongues darting between my lips.

Growing bolder, I began to fondle her breasts. My sister hummed her approval into our kiss, and I could feel my body growing hot with excitement.

We slowly drifted apart, sharing a wide-eyed gaze that said everything about what we were feeling right then. “Oh, Kris,” she whispered, “that feels wonderful. Don’t stop.” I continued to grope her while she drew in closer to nuzzle my neck, her lips and tongue driving me wild with desire as they lightly brushed against my skin.

Our bodies were sliding together, both of my hands now pressed against Kelly’s breasts. She began to suck on my tongue as I teased her nipples.

She suddenly broke away with a breathless gasp. “Hold on!” Clumsily raising herself into a sitting position, Kelly whisked her t-shirt off and threw it aside, then lay back down, pulling me to her. She sighed happily as my hands claimed her breasts, now wondrously bare. “Yesssssss…”

I licked my way down her neck, all nervousness gone as I explored my sister’s body for the first time. My lips found their way to her chest, Kelly’s heart racing frantically as she ran her hands through my hair. Her breast was inches from my face, and I knew what she wanted me to do.

When I ran my tongue across the erect bud of her nipple, my sister whimpered, “Omigod, Kris…” I took it into my mouth, sucking at the tip of her beautiful breast.

I was lost in a new world of pleasure. My body was hot and moist, my own breasts aching to be touched. I moved back up to her face, and we kissed long and hot, writhing against each other on my bed.

We kept at it a little while longer, and then we separated with one last loving kiss and lay back together, nestled side by side. Her hand found mine and gave it a squeeze.

“That was really amazing,” she told me as we cuddled. “You are helping me so much, and it feels good, too! Let’s practice again tomorrow, ‘kay?”

I spent the whole next day in anticipation of that evening. Sure enough, Kelly came to me that night for more “practice.” This time she made out with me, just like I’d done to her. It was amazing. Even though I hadn’t developed as much as Kelly, my breasts were wondrously sensitive, and the feel of her fingers against me was out of this world. I almost swooned with pleasure when she first kissed and licked my nipples.

Gazing deep into my eyes, she locked into a steamy embrace with me, breasts pressing together as our lips and tongues met.

I could feel how hard her nipples were as we hugged, arms passionately entwined around one another. I’d also become increasingly aware of the heat and dampness that mounted between my legs as we kissed, and I knew that she felt the same, just from the warmth of her own sex as it pressed against my thigh.

“Love you, Kris,” she told me, gently placing her hands on my face. I told her that I loved her as well, and we shared another intimate kiss, my sister’s fingers cradling my cheeks as our tongues swirled together.

We fell asleep in each other’s arms, our bodies nestled closely.

By the time of her third date, my big sister and I had been fooling around every single night. Although she did enjoy being with Bart, Kelly admitted to having more fun when she was with me. And although I was still thinking about guys and wanting a boyfriend of my own, those feelings seemed utterly insignificant when I was with my sister.

That evening, while Kelly was out, I mostly spent in my bed — trying to read a book I liked, but I was too restless to focus on the words. Finally, I put the book to one side, turned off the light and tried to rest, only to find myself tossing and turning, bombarded with images of Kelly and Bart kissing, his hands touching her breasts.

I was feeling some pangs of jealousy — but then I smiled when I remembered how Kelly told me I was better at making out than Bart. Still, I felt annoyingly restless, wanting my sister home and in bed with me.

I teased my nipples, the buds erect and sensitive. The familiar heat and wetness began to spread inside of my body and between my legs. For some reason, Kelly and I had yet to touch each other very much below the waist. I’m not sure why, we never discussed it. I was shy, I suppose… and perhaps it would have been crossing a line we weren’t quite ready to cross yet.

That night, however, I was feeling especially bold; longing for more from Kelly. I slipped a hand inside the panties I wore, fingers curving between my thighs. I’d masturbated before, of course, but something about the way I felt right then made touching myself feel absolutely amazing.

Suddenly I knew that I wanted to, had to, touch Kelly this way. This was what I’d been longing to do with my sister, although I hadn’t realized it until then. We’d made each other feel incredible, but had yet to experience the ecstasy of total release.

I nearly bit through my lip as I exploded in orgasm, moaning my sister’s name as I rubbed my pussy.

Bringing two fingers to my mouth, I tasted my sex. All I could think about now was Kelly, how I wanted to share this with her, how badly I longed to touch my sister like this.

I was brimming with anticipation and lust when Kelly finally got home. By now I’d shed my underwear and lay completely naked under the covers. She rushed into the room, stripped down to her panties and slid into bed with me, giving me a soft kiss.

“So… how’d it go with Bart?” I murmured.

“Oh, okay — I had fun,” she told me as she snuggled up to me. “But I’m glad to be home. I felt more like being with you, actually.”

“I have a surprise for you,” I told her with a smile as we shared a quick kiss and embrace.

“Oooohh!” she exclaimed as our bodies came together. “You’re naked!”

I nodded with a smile as she threw the covers back and stared at my nude body for a few heartbeats. Then with a giggle, she whisked off her own panties and drew me into her arms, our bare bodies entwining.

“Mmmmmm, this feels awesome!” she said to me as we pressed into each other. I could feel Kelly’s hot, damp opening against my thigh, and the warmth of her pussy was driving me wild with desire.

“Tell me what happened,” I urged as I kissed her.

“Let’s talk about it later, okay?” she whispered impatiently, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day.” She took my face in her hands and planted her mouth on mine. I purred with pleasure as her tongue slid between my lips and we kissed hungrily for a couple of minutes.

Her face was flushed and happy when we broke apart. “So…” she grinned, “what’s this surprise of yours?”

“I’d rather show you than tell you,” I said. “Just lie back.”

Wanting to see her naked, I threw the covers off the bed as she stretched out, smiling at me expectantly. I rolled on my side, facing her, and touched her gently. She smiled, and my hands began to roam over her nude body as my mouth sought out hers again. As we kissed, I trailed my hand down between her thighs, and we both moaned as my fingers brushed over her mound.

“Oh, yes, Kris! Touch me… touch my pussy!” she blurted, responding to my bold caresses.

“D-do you like that?”

“Ohhh, yes… ohhh, God, it’s so… OH!” Her body jerked as my fingers slid between her moist pussy lips. I touched her the same way I’d fondled myself, getting my fingers wet with the essences of my sweet sister.

Then I got a really hot idea. I brought my pussy-wet fingers up to my lips and tasted them.

Kelly got incredibly excited watching me do that, and her tongue joined mine. “Mmmmm…” we both purred as I held my fingers between our eager mouths. We both licked and sucked her juice from my fingers, and I gasped as she suddenly slid her hand down my body and between my legs, fingering me like I had her.

“Yes! Oh, yes… oh Kelly, d-don’t stop!” I cried as she toyed with my pussy. It felt great when I’d done it to myself, but it was unbelievable when she did it to me. My sister and I kissed hotly as we fingered each other, both of us growing more delirious by the second.

I wanted to go further, though — to put my fingers inside her.

“God, Kris — omigod that feels so GOOD!” she cried as I slipped one finger deep into her hot, slippery hole. Right away, she did the same to me… and the sensation was dizzying. I was trembling now as she began to slide that wicked finger in and out, in and out.

We quickly found a mutual rhythm, both us moaning as our pleasure soared even higher. I felt like I was going to explode, but the sensations just grew more and more intense.

Then Kelly touched my clit with her thumb… and that was IT! My body seized up as indescribable waves of purest ecstasy crashed over me, one after another. It was all I could do not to scream out loud. I could feel the breath shuddering out of my lungs in hoarse bursts of “Huh! Huh! Huh! Huh!” My hand was still between my sister’s legs, fingers frantically thrusting in and out as I worked to bring her off.

And then she was climaxing too, her face suddenly against my chest, her breath hot on my skin as she bucked and rocked on my hand. We leaned against one another, trembling as our orgasms crested and slowly — so slowly! — receded.

We slept together again that night, peacefully slumbering in each other’s arms.

I woke up very early the next morning, and gazed at my sister’s beautiful body. I had always wanted to be just like her, and now Kelly and I were playing sex games together. I shivered with excitement as I stared at her erect nipples, and lowered my head, extending my tongue to lick one.

Moving slowly, I slid my hand between Kelly’s legs and gently caressed the pink folds of her pussy. Her breathing grew faster as I toyed with her, and she slowly opened her eyes with a smile.

“Good morning,” she cooed. “Damn, that feels incredible.”

I leaned up to kiss Kelly as my fingers brushed her pussy, and she whimpered into my mouth as I pleasured her. She quickly became wet, and my finger was just starting to inch inside her vagina when we heard our mother moving around.

We quickly separated, and she dove into her bed just minutes before Mom opened our bedroom door. She told us both that it was time to get up, then left without a backward glance.

Laughing with my sister at what a close shave that had been, we both emerged from our beds and hugged. Entwining our naked bodies together, we shared a passionate kiss while cupping each other’s bare asses. It was a perfect ending to a wonderful night, and I could not wait for the evening to come, so I could play these sweet games with my beautiful sister again.

We did make out that night — and every night for the next week. The time we spent together naked and in each other’s arms was like a taste of paradise. I couldn’t get enough of my sweet sister.

Then came the night when things changed between us again.

Continue on to Part Two

By JetBoy

During the course of the next week, things didn’t go as I’d hoped. My theory had been that these freaky thoughts about Lori were just part of a phase for me, something new and naughty and irresistible — but still, something I’d grow out of once the initial thrill wore off.

If anything, just the opposite happened. It was like being on drugs, and each high took more to reach than the one before it.

I’d watch Lori in the living room, playing with her set of handmade wooden alphabet blocks, the toy she liked best of all. She especially loved to arrange them in neat rows or stacks, though sometimes if a stack fell over, it would make her cry. Lori couldn’t use her blocks to spell words, but derived great pleasure from the shapes of the letters themselves, which she’d trace with her index finger, enthralled. It was a sight that always brought me joy.

Now I thought of interrupting my child’s play time to undress her, carry her to the couch and explore the wonders of her bare body. These thoughts buzzed about me like mosquitoes, refusing to be driven away.

As the days passed, my sexual dreams about Lori only grew in intensity. I began to picture my daughter and I making love in every way imaginable, immersing ourselves in pleasure like the most devoted of sex partners. I imagined her entering adulthood as my lover — a child in a woman’s body, her physical maturity only making our lust stronger.

I lay awake at night, wanting to tiptoe naked down the hallway to her room and slip into her bed. Then one night, that’s exactly what I did.

Rising silently from the bed, I slowly walked out of my room and padded down the hallway to where my little girl was sleeping soundly.

One thing about Lori: when she falls asleep, the house could come crashing down about our ears and still fail to rouse her. Okay, I’m exaggerating, but not by much. Sometimes she’ll doze off in front of the TV at night, lost in the wild whirl of sounds, colors and movement. But even when I carry Lori to bed, undress her and wriggle her into pajamas, she never opens her eyes.

Once inside her room, I could see Lori lying on her back in the dim glow from her Bambi night light. She was flat on her back, her mouth barely open, lost in slumber. God, she looked so cute and adorable! Barely nine years old, she was the most precious thing to me in the world. Now she was also the object of a taboo lust that seemed to consume me whole. All it took was one look at her angelic face, and my inner strength disappeared like morning dew in August.

I silently argued with myself. It wasn’t like I would ever actually hurt or abuse my daughter, after all. I only wanted to shower Lori with love, to be more intimate with her than I’d been in the past. Was that really so wrong? Seeing her childish body tucked up in bed, so safe and secure, my feelings of innocent love and guilty desire grew confused, knotting together into this fierce need that made me ache inside.

But fear and shame finally outweighed my lust — and that was what drove me from her room and back to mine.

I crawled into bed, still naked, then slipped a hand between my legs, where my swollen clit begged to be touched. The erect nubbin sent a surge of raw heat through me when my finger brushed it.

It wasn’t like I’d never been in her room naked before, it was just that I’d never been in her room naked with a purpose. What I really wanted was to be in bed with her, for Lori to be nude along with me, our bodies pressed snugly together. More than that… I wanted to kiss her.

Sure, I had fantasies that went a lot further than that, a lot further. But wanting to kiss her was becoming more than just a fantasy. Not a typical mother-daughter peck on the cheek, mind you. No, I wanted to part my lips, slip my tongue into her mouth and kiss my child with all the passion that burned inside me.

Suddenly I wrenched myself into a fetal position, squeezing a hand tightly between my thighs, cunt aching from the perverted hunger I felt. Had I become some kind of mindless animal, slave to my sexual appetite? Was this the type of woman, the type of mother that I really was? Right then, I was too far gone to feel the tug of conscience. Swaddled in the blankets, I began to masturbate furiously.

So engrossed was I with my twisted fantasy that I didn’t notice the little figure entering my room. It wasn’t until I felt the covers being tugged that I opened my eyes, shocked to see little Lori standing at the edge of the bed, gazing at me.

Of course, she would have no idea what I was doing to myself under the covers, and certainly not a clue about why I was doing it. Even so, I couldn’t help but feel guilty, almost like I when I was caught fingering myself by my mom back when I was twelve. Except I hadn’t been indulging in fantasies of sex with a little girl in those days…

Lori paused, standing motionless, uncertain of herself.

“It’s okay… come here, baby,” I said, reaching out to her. Lifting the covers, I gestured her underneath, and she happily complied.

Lori climbed in bed with me, still cradling her stuffed bear under one arm, and we snuggled together. The fact that I was naked didn’t seem to even register with the child as she spooned me, pressing her back and bottom up against my breasts and belly. Wrapping an arm around her, I pulled Lori tightly into me, nuzzling her tousled hair.

Suddenly I was on the verge of tears as I held my darling daughter close. She was already asleep once again, safe and secure in Mommy’s arms. Was she really safe, though? Would any sane person allow a little girl to be alone in bed with a naked woman who ached to take her as a lover?

I’d always seen myself as a good mother, even during those times when Lori’s handicap was especially frustrating. What had happened to me since then? Was it the fault of the internet — or was that just an excuse to release a desire for lesbian incest that I’d unconsciously carried around with me for years?

And why was my pussy getting wet?

I had to stay in control of myself, to keep from doing anything to my child that a mother shouldn’t. Well, that noble intention lasted all of about two minutes as I felt Lori’s warm little body pressed snugly against mine.

I found myself wishing that she wasn’t wearing her pajamas. Really, since I’m naked, why shouldn’t Lori be naked too? She’d be more comfy, I bet.

With that excuse spurring me on, I reached around Lori’s chest to unbutton her top and carefully extracted her arms from it, then tossed the garment to one side, leaving her bare-breasted — although that description hardly applied to a girl of nine.

Lori stirred, but made no effort to resist me as I slid her pajama bottoms down and off her thin little legs, followed by the plain cotton panties she always wore.

My little girl and I were now completely bare, nestled together under the covers — and my excitement had risen to fever pitch.

We had bathed together many times in the past, but that had felt nothing like this. Back then, even when I washed Lori’s flat chest or her smooth slit, I hadn’t thought of her in sexual terms. After all, that would have been perverted; or at least it would have been to the woman I used to be. That person was gone, replaced by someone I scarcely recognized. This woman felt a little girl’s bare body against her own, and began to respond.

My good sense hadn’t retreated entirely. I heard it; entreating me in the distance, telling me to stop now before I did something that could never be undone. But as I caressed Lori’s smooth legs that voice grew fainter and fainter, until finally it was finally silenced by my own rationalizations.

The questions spun through my head like thrown coins. Was it really so bad to touch my daughter like this? How could it be immoral for a mother to share pleasure with her little girl? Why should I hold back from expressing my true feelings for Lori? Just because she was only nine, did that mean she couldn’t enjoy making love? She was my daughter, after all, so who had the right to tell me what I could and could not do with her? I adored Lori and would never hurt her; why shouldn’t we be intimate?

Step by step, I convinced myself that what I wanted to do with Lori wasn’t evil. My feelings of guilt melted away, replaced by the most incredibly intense feelings of sexual love for my child. I had never felt like this about anyone before, even my husband. Especially my husband.

It was almost animal-like; raw instinct triumphing over rational thought. It was the purest emotion a mother could have, I decided, this need to be close to my little girl in every conceivable way. I was a loving parent, God damn it, not a pervert. How could my love be wrong?

The die was cast; my decision made.

My hand glided up Lori’s thigh until I was caressing her thin hips, then moved to cover her tummy. I paused to rub her there, and a tiny contented sigh escaped my baby’s lips. Slowly, ever so slowly I continued on, making my way down Lori’s body until I was cupping her vulva. I really wasn’t playing with her, just letting a hand rest on the rise of my daughter’s mound.

My heart raced as I awaited Lori’s response. Would she push my hand away? Would she enjoy this?

Actually, there was no response from her at all. I saw her eyes blink; that was all. What was she thinking? I wished she could tell me. My poor child’s stunted vocabulary wasn’t sufficient to describe what she must have been feeling at that moment. What I would have given to hear Lori speak right then; to tell me in her halting voice that she liked my touch, and wanted me to keep fondling her.

Much as I longed to explore her bare slit, I let my hand move back up her thin body, over her belly and to her smooth, flat chest. I teased her tiny nipples with my fingertips, trying to remember how it felt to touch myself there when I was her age. My mother had certainly never caressed me this way!

Suddenly, I wondered what I would have done if she had. If my mom had tried to make love to me, would I have responded in the way she wanted?

The idea really turned me on, so I suspected that, yes — my mother could have had me as a lover if she’d tried. Clearly, this craving for lesbian incest ran deep in me.

I continued to caress my baby’s chest. Someday Lori would ripen into womanhood and leave this little-girl frame behind, though her mind would always be that of a child. I imagined the two of us sharing a life as lovers; watching her grow, continuing to pleasure her with my mouth and fingers along the way.

Lori was beginning to shift about as I caressed her, so I relaxed the arm I had around her waist, allowing her to move more freely. I half-expected her to pull away. To my delight, she turned herself around to face me instead. I drew her up into my arms once more and she nestled into me, her face pressed against my breasts. I recalled how lovely it had felt when she fed from those same breasts as an infant.

I traced paths down her back with my fingertips, unable to resist going a little lower with each stroke until I was fondling her bare bottom. My body throbbed like an idling engine as I gently squeezed it, savoring the tightness of her pert little cheeks.

Lori squirmed a bit as I allowed my fingers to trail through her anal cleft. It didn’t seem to bother her; In fact, she snuggled even deeper into me. I could only imagine how she might respond if I began to pleasure her for real.

Still, I didn’t want to frighten her with too much, too soon, so I took my hand away from my child’s bottom and began to stroke her back again. After awhile, we both drifted off.

Before I knew it, the alarm clock was yammering: time to get Lori up and off to school. I reluctantly — oh God, how reluctantly — disentangled myself from Lori’s embrace, hoisted myself into a standing position, then shambled into the new day.

After a shower, a brisk rubdown with the towel and my morning cup of coffee, I gently awakened my child. Stretching her thin arms, Lori yawned, then clambered from the bed, still naked. My heartbeat quickened as I drank in the sight of my little girl wandering into the hallway, making her sleepy way to the bathroom.

Later that morning, watching Lori climb into the van that took her to the special school she attended, I found myself wondering if any of the other moms saw their little girls in those cute blue plaid uniforms and felt the same helpless longings as me. Did any of these suburban housewives dream of undressing their daughters; exploring the delights of their childish bodies?

I fixed breakfast — but instead of sitting down and eating, I found myself pacing the house like a caged beast. My head was filled with intensely sexual thoughts and images that seemed to grow stronger and more vivid by the moment. I was actually grateful for having to go to work, just to take me out of myself for a few hours.

That night, I managed to eat dinner and watch TV with my Lori without any change in our routine. I kept stealing glances at her, though, moving about the house or sitting next to me in a long t-shirt and panties, overwhelmed by thoughts like I wonder what she would do if I bent down and began kissing those sweet pale thighs? Anyhow, I got through the evening, eventually tucking my baby in without further incident.

In the middle of the night, I woke to feel something next to me. Reaching out, I recognized immediately what it was, and my heart began to race. Lori had crept into bed with me again. That wasn’t startling in itself. What did shock me was what was missing — her nightwear! She was completely naked!

I felt a wave of heat surge through me, and my heartbeat kicked into overdrive. My little girl had undressed completely before getting into bed with me, and now her warm, bare little body was pressed snugly against mine. My cunt was on fire.

In the cover of darkness I couldn’t see Lori, but certainly felt her there. And though I heard a faint cry of conscience, begging me to pull away now and stop this perverted lunacy, my hands had a mind of their own. I began to explore my child’s nakedness.

When I curled my arm around Lori, my hand slipped down her silky-smooth back until I was cupping the pert globes of her bottom. Surprising me, she wriggled her hips just a little as I held it. God, the little minx! It was if she was daring me to go further…

As if that wasn’t enough of a surprise, I felt my little girl nestle into me until she could reach around my waist — and just like that, she twined her arms about my body, reaching for, finding and fondling my ass!

Once I got past the initial thrill of being intimately touched by my little girl, it occurred to me that Lori was just mimicking my own actions, as she so often did — no different, really, from the way I would give her a few kitchen utensils to play with when I was cooking, just so she could follow along with me.

Except… she did seem to genuinely enjoy having her bottom caressed. Maybe she really was trying to return my affection, to make her mommy feel nice.

Either way my curiosity was aroused, along with my lust. Just what else would she imitate?

Still fondling my little girl’s rump, I allowed my free hand to drift upward, caressing Lori’s flat chest, pausing to toy with her tiny nipples, lightly brushing them with the tips of my fingers. Was it only my imagination, or did they stiffen slightly to my touch?

Sure enough, my little copycat began to mimic my actions, her hands seeking my breasts. She cupped them, felt their weight and heft, then grasped my nipples between finger and thumb — getting the feel of something new and interesting, just as a child naturally would. And it felt marvelous.

Just a few days earlier, the very idea of my nine-year-old daughter fondling me that way would have been unthinkable. At that moment, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world, my little girl and I touching each other, exploring like two kids playing doctor.

It was lovely, truly lovely — but I was already hungry for more.

I gently drew Lori’s face toward my breasts, pressing a throbbing nipple against her lips. Then, wonder of wonders, I felt her lips part for me, and my baby gingerly took the tip of my breast into her warm mouth and began to suck. A wave of joy surged through me, so powerful that I longed to cry out to the heavens.

She nursed on my nipples; first the left one, then I gently guided her to the right. God, did Lori have any idea at all how good she was making me feel?

By then, the darkness of the room was maddening. I had to see this.

Reaching back, careful not to take my breast away from Lori’s mouth, I reached for the reading lamp on my nightstand, Taking hold of the switch, I twisted it on to the low setting. Looking down, I saw my daughter’s eyes, briefly blinking up at me before she returned her attention to my breasts.

Aware as I was of what was happening at that moment, the sight left me dizzy with excitement. This was no longer a crazy fantasy. My little girl was in my arms, naked and nursing from me. I was on the verge of truly possessing my child, making her my lover.

I felt a coolness on my left nipple as Lori released it from the heat of her mouth. With a contented sigh, she nestled into me, and I cradled her in my arms. Burying my face in her honey-brown hair, I breathed in its sweet smell, placed a few small kisses in the silken strands, then let them stray to her forehead.

Lori tilted her face up toward mine, silently encouraging me to continue. She’d always loved being kissed by me… well, now Mommy was going to teach her little girl a whole new way to kiss.

I let my lips lightly brush her eyes, cheeks, the tip of her nose, then a feather-light peck on Lori’s mouth. I whispered, “I love you, baby girl,” then kissed her once more, allowing the kiss to linger for a few seconds..

Drawing back, I studied my child’s face for signs of puzzlement or distress, but her gaze was perfectly tranquil. Giving her a warm smile, I moved in once more to claim Lori’s mouth with mine. This time I parted my lips, languidly brushing them against hers in a very sensual way, then traced her lower lip with a soft flick of the tongue. Lori’s eyes briefly opened, then drifted shut once more.

I seduced my little girl with kisses, made gentle love to her mouth. And soon, bless her, Lori began to respond — timidly at first, but oh, how my heart sang when her bashful tongue first engaged with mine!

I met the child’s passion and raised it, coaxing her into deeper, hungrier kissing. She quickly got the idea, enthusiastically joining me in this fun new game.

At first it really was like a game to her, too — I felt my baby girl’s childish delight as our tongues playfully sparred and mingled together. But since Lori so seldom used language to communicate, I’d taught myself to be hypersensitive to shifts in her moods… and I could sense when our kissing became more than just fun to her.

She began to kiss me back with what seemed to me like a steadily mounting passion, finding and savoring the pure pleasure in this sensual dance of lips and tongues. Soon my little Lori and I were Frenching like lovers.

I tried to still the trembling of my hand as I reached down between Lori’s thighs, and she seemed to almost instinctively part them, causing me to wonder if she understood what I was up to. Was it possible that, on some level, my poor autistic daughter had some primal understanding of sex?

Once again, I was cupping my little girl’s sweet bare pussy. This time, however, I intended to fondle Lori until she came, if that was possible. Can a nine-year-old even experience an orgasm? I asked myself.

I wasn’t going to stop at simply caressing my child’s vulva, not then. My index finger began to glide up and down her slit, then I allowed the tip to gently inch into Lori’s vagina.

Later I would look back and realize that this moment, more than any other, was when our relationship of mother and child truly became something more. Yes, I’d touched Lori in ways that some people might’ve thought inappropriate, but nothing that would have gotten me arrested.

That was about to change, the law be damned. There was a line bordering the calm, safe life I’d been living and the realm of complete abandon, and this mom was going to cross it.

My finger eased deeper into my little girl’s pussy, at least up to the second knuckle. It was incredibly tight, but Lori was already moist enough for her sex to allow me entry — could that mean she was experiencing sexual stimulation?

The tip of my finger was gently pressing against the thin barrier of her hymen. I wasn’t ready to take my daughter’s virginity, though the idea of being her first fuck make me shiver deliciously.

Lori was gazing up at me, a hint of curiosity in those placid blue eyes… no doubt wondering why Mommy was touching her this way. To reassure my child, I began to place tickly little kisses on her cheeks, nose, chin, eyelids. Then when my lips brushed hers, she startled and thrilled me by wrapping both arms around my neck and clutching me tightly. Lori’s mouth opened, her tongue emerging to engage mine.

We kissed with a joyous, fierce passion that had my head reeling.

As I made love to Lori, it seemed impossible that I could actually be doing such a thing; fingering my little girl’s slit like some perverted sex fiend. Well, maybe that’s what I was. One thing for certain: never before in my life had I been so aroused, every atom of me simmering with lust. But this raw heat was tempered and sweetened by the all-consuming adoration I felt for my daughter. The very blood in my veins seemed to sing with love.

Proceeding as cautiously as possible, I worked my finger about inside Lori; making tiny circles. Her eyes widened in surprise; a small gasp escaped her lips. Then she slowly sank back into the pillow, allowing these strange new sensations to carry her wherever they would.

With my thumb, I sought out my child’s tiny clit and lightly stroked it. A delicate, barely-there caress; soft as a butterfly kiss.

Lori seized my arm. “Uhhhh… uhhh…” my daughter moaned, suddenly breathing hard and clearly agitated.

I immediately froze, afraid I’d gone too far. But little Lori, bless her soul, shook her head frantically as it to say No — don’t stop, don’t! Placing her free hand on mine, she firmly pressed it against her bare vulva.

A wave of joy suffused me, so intense that I nearly came right then. My baby girl loved this, wanted me to give her more.

So I did. My finger resumed its circling inside Lori’s vagina, my thumb brushed the nubbin of her clitoris. She relaxed again, this time giving me a dreamy smile and a nod of the head.

I masturbated my ten-year-old daughter, gradually leading her to the point of release. Her breathing grew ragged, and her eyes were soon glazed over with pleasure. Occasionally Lori would pat my wrist, clearly encouraging Mommy to continue.

Before long she was making soft mewling sounds, her slender body beginning to quiver as if she was growing restless. Right then, I knew she was anything but.

Suddenly Lori went bone-rigid, eyes huge, her hand gripping my wrist instead of patting. A gurgling cry escaped her throat — and I knew that my little girl was having her first orgasm.

For most women, there’s no experience on God’s green earth that matches the rapture of coming, but when you’ve never had one before, especially at the touch of another, the moment can be terrifying. I felt a quick twinge of worry that my child might feel frightened by what she was going through, and began to place soft little kisses on her face, trying to reassure my daughter while continuing to masturbate her.

She wasn’t scared, though. In fact, Lori tilted her face up to mine and began to shower me with clumsy kisses of her own, stolen in the midst of her rapture. My fingers remained busy, fondling my baby girl’s increasingly juicy slit.

Finally a deep shudder raced through my daughter’s body, her voice rising to a squeak; then she went limp in my embrace.

We lay together in blissful silence, my hand resting motionless upon Lori’s vulva. I could feel the still-frantic thrumming of her pulse, gradually slowing.

After awhile she turned to me, draping a leg over mine as she rested her face on my breasts, giving them a few sleepy kisses. I touched my lips to the child’s slightly damp forehead.

Then something happened that I’ll remember to my dying day. Lori raised her face and, giving me a dreamy smile, said, “Mo-mommy… g-g-good.” Her head dropped to my shoulder, that smile still adorning her sweet lips as she fell asleep.

I shed a few tears of purest joy, cradling my daughter to me as she slumbered peacefully, our naked bodies nestled together. I felt such love in my heart for her, stronger than life itself.

*****

Each night after that, Lori came to my bed naked, slipping beneath the sheets and into my arms, ready to play this wonderful new game. I thought it best to let her take the initiative, to be the one who decided if we would make love or not. We would start out with kisses and caresses, then go further, a little more each time.

As the week progressed I showed her how to fondle me and explore my cunt, where to touch me to make those magical feelings happen. On the fourth night, I taught Lori how to get her entire hand inside, and she fucked me to a glorious orgasm.

It wasn’t until the next night that I got the courage to lick my daughter for the first time. She’d been sucking my nipples when I gently rolled her onto her back, put one hand on each knee and spread her thighs apart. I could see the questioning look on her face as I lowered my head to Lori’s vulva and let my tongue lightly caress the baby-smooth cleft of her vagina. This time she immediately understood what I was doing, and spread her legs wide for me, welcoming the touch of Mommy’s mouth.

What a beautiful experience that was, going down on my little girl. The taste of her was ambrosial, all I’d dreamed of and more. I licked her pretty pussy until she cried out loud, her hands tangling in my hair as I brought her to ecstasy, then beyond.

Of course, my little angel had to mimic everything I did, so no sooner had I raised my face from between Lori’s legs than she was sitting up, pointing at my sex, stammering “M-m-me!” making it clear in her way that she wanted to lick me too. How could I refuse?

There was something so fucking erotic about seeing Lori sprawled out before me, tenderly kissing my pussy. I’d shown her where my clit was and she already knew how great it felt to be touched there, so it didn’t take long for my little girl to bring me to a wall-shaker of a climax.

Two years later, Lori and I are still lovers. She gets so much happiness from pleasing her mommy, and I adore making her feel good as well.

She will often come to me naked while I’m reading, washing dishes, or folding laundry, and give me that special look, letting me know that my baby girl is in the mood for love. Her hand will find its way beneath my t-shirt to cup a bare breast, or into the gym shorts I usually wear around the house these days. Never with panties, unless I’m on my period. I want my daughter to have access to her mommy’s body whenever she feels the urge.

Just moments ago, as I was typing in the last few sentences of this story, Lori padded into my room, her body completely bare, that warm light glowing in her eyes. I sat back in my chair, gazing contentedly at my daughter as she began to caress my pussy. Our mouths slowly drifted together, and we shared a long, gentle lover’s kiss.

I took Lori by the hand and led her to my bed. Once there, I quickly undressed, then lay back, open for my little angel. I always let her pleasure me first — she preferred it that way. Kneeling between my parted legs, Lori gave me the sweetest smile. It nearly always made me feel a little like crying, seeing how much my precious daughter loved to love me.

Propping myself up on both elbows, I watched as my little girl leaned forward and began to lick my pussy. It was an incredible sight — one that, coupled with the skill of Lori’s sexy mouth, soon had me moaning in pure bliss, lost in an orgasm that seemed as if it might never end.

Soon as I could draw a steady breath, I raised my little girl up and kissed her full on the lips. The taste of my cunt on her mouth made my heart race with excitement. I gently laid Lori down, burrowed between my daughter’s thighs, and licked her until she came.

The End

By JetBoy

As I passed by a neighborhood church today just as the Sunday service had ended, I paused to watch as the congregation made its way through the exit doors — adults exchanging halfhearted greetings with one another and stifling yawns; children spilling out into the sunlight, giddy with freedom.

I thought of where those people had been just moments ago, listening to their minister as he droned on and on about sin and redemption, then found myself wondering how they would respond if they knew the pure, unvarnished truth about me and my daughter.

Imagine the uproar from these good Christian souls if I were to stand before them and publicly confess what goes on between my little girl and me behind the doors of our home. What disdain, what condemnation, what outright hatred would they call down upon me for loving my child as I do?

Then again, perhaps there are a few other mommies here who might feel a twinge of hidden kinship with me, having pleasured and enjoyed their daughters in the same way — or they merely long to, and lack the courage to try.

My name? For our purpose, let’s say it‘s Carrie. In nearly every respect, I’m a typical suburban single mom, divorced and in my late twenties. I have a daughter who I’ll call Lori, ten years old. She is the light of my life, in more ways than one.

Lori is different from the other children in our neighborhood in one crucial way: she is autistic, the fragile shoots of her mind damaged before they had the chance to sprout and thrive.

In some ways, her autism is mild — she doesn’t injure herself or have fits. On the other hand, her language and communication skills are stunted. She seldom speaks, and will probably never be able to read, even on the level of a kindergartner. For the rest of her life, Lori will be a little girl who needs to be cared for.

It’s not easy, at first, to tell that Lori is who she is. Her eyes aren’t dull and lusterless, like those of so many autistic kids. Instead, they are large, bright as winter snow, but lack involvement with the world around her. My daughter has an angelic face, one that enchants strangers until they come to realize her condition. I’ve encountered it dozens and dozens of times, and still I feel impotent rage at the cheap pity I see on people’s faces when they realize. Oh, I see. Retarded. What a shame, what-a-shame.

My husband Mitch was like that — except that most of the pity he felt was for himself, saddled with the misfortune of a defective child. Oh, he went through the motions of being a caring father, but they seldom rang true. He never was truly at ease around Lori, and she sensed it.

What infuriated me was that Mitch couldn’t get far enough past our daughter’s disability to understand what a sweet, beautiful soul she had. Lori was an enchanting little girl in her special way, endlessly lovable — but to him she was damaged goods. He never said as much, but I knew, and it couldn’t help but affect what we had. By the time our marriage fell apart, I was coming to despise him. He’s out of our lives completely now, and good riddance.

As my daughter grew older, there was a change she went through that I hadn’t expected: she became more aware of her body and as a result, grew a bit more shy. Not long after she turned seven, Lori decided that she no longer wanted me to bathe with her. By then, my child was mostly able to wash herself anyhow, so I gave Lori her privacy. I’d often shared the tub with my little girl in a completely innocent way — nothing at all sexual in the experience, or at least not that I understood at the time. Since things changed between Lori and I, we bathe together often and love it.

So what happened to my daughter and I to set us on this path of forbidden pleasure? Simple enough: it started one evening when I began chatting on a lesbian website, a few months after Lori’s ninth birthday.

One day, a few of my co-workers and I were snickering over an article in our local alternative weekly about women who engaged in dirty talk on the computer. We joked about the whole thing, but I found myself intrigued by the idea of sharing sexy thoughts with a complete stranger. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to seek out one of these chat sites and take it for a test drive.

There was another reason that the idea of anonymous internet sex appealed to me: I’d been having secret fantasies about women for years, and since Mitch had abandoned me and Lori to run off with a receptionist from his accountancy firm, I was fed up to the tits with men — hungering for something, anything different. Seeking out interested women via my computer seemed like a safe, anonymous way for me to dip a toe into the lesbian lifestyle without committing myself.

So one night, I sat down in front of the computer, logged on, took a deep breath and entered the address of the site I wanted. Lori was asleep, and I was feeling lonely.

My first impression was shock when I saw how blatant and forward these women were, right from the outset, without any hesitation or build-up. They wanted to know was how old I was, if I shaved my pussy, if I liked large breasts, if I owned a strap-on — and, yes, if I would meet them for sex. There were teenage girls who claimed to be looking for a mommy figure to fuck them, housewives eager to cheat on their husbands with a woman, grown ladies seeking young hotties. It was all pretty overwhelming, truth be told.

I got over my nervousness surprisingly fast, though — and after an hour or so, found that I was totally wet. I’d never done anything remotely like this before, and the rush I got from it was exhilarating! There were gay women who wanted to chat with me about everything imaginable, and I reveled in their attention.

Finally I’d had enough, and went to my bedroom to masturbate. Lying naked on the bed, I fingered myself without mercy as I imagined meeting some of the women I’d chatted with to indulge myself in pleasures of the flesh, allowing my new lovers to do whatever they wanted: eat my pussy, fuck me with a dildo, lick my asshole.

Then I began to imagine myself doing those things, drifting into a new fantasy where I was going down on a woman and eating her juicy cunt — and that only got me hotter.

When I finally came, I practically soaked the bed! It seemed like ages since I’d been so aroused — and so satisfied.

The next day at work I was sipping coffee in the break room when one of my co-workers brought up the subject of sex chat rooms again, a bit embarrassed as she admitted that she’d visited one herself just last night. I couldn’t help but grin, and she instantly knew that I’d done the same. I blushed when she prodded me for details and only shook my head, knowing there was no way I could tell her that my internet sex talk had all been with other women — and how much the experience had turned me on!

That night, I drank a few glasses of wine to make myself warm and tingly, impatient for 9 PM to roll around to I could put Lori to bed.

As soon as I’d tucked her in, I hustled myself into the study, stripped naked, switched on the computer and logged onto the lesbian site. Knowing what to expect this time, I’d put a thick towel down in my desk chair before sitting.

Right away, a dozen women were trying to engage me in a chat. The funny thing was even though my profile was accurate – single mother, age thirty-four, with a daughter of nine — I was just as popular as if I’d claimed to be eighteen and in college. Women don’t seem to be as fixated with having young lovers as men — though as I quickly discovered, some females not only have an obsession with youth, they take it to an extreme.

At first, all the chats were about pretty standard stuff – women fucking women in a variety of role-playing situations. Then, out of the blue, one woman wrote: I’d like for your little girl to join us when we fuck.

Needless to say, I was stunned. What kind of woman would even think about sex with a nine-year-old girl?

It made me feel all weird to even imagine involving my little girl in such a perverted discussion, fantasy or not. My pulse was racing, and my palms suddenly felt damp. This isn’t right, I told myself.

I was just about to kill the site and shut off the computer, then paused; thought about it.

Did I really want to run away from this chance to explore my sexuality, just because the chat had moved past my comfort zone? I couldn’t help but feel like it would be chickening out.

I pondered this mystery woman’s proposal. Since this would be just roleplaying, would it really be all that bad? It certainly wasn’t like I’d actually be doing anything with Lori, after all. Nothing but a fantasy, really. After all, I told myself, you used to masturbate while dreaming of being fucked by the family dog.

Still, it is your own little girl we’re talking about here…

I sat in front of the computer, frozen with uncertainty as my conscience struggled with itself. Despite my apprehension, I found something strangely fascinating about this kinky scenario of Lori, me and a lesbian stranger in bed together.

Could it be some kind of weird joke? I wondered. Maybe she’s just trying to get a rise out of me.

The beep of an incoming message broke me out of my trance, and I saw that the woman I’d been chatting with had posted a new comment: Are you still there?

Taking a deep breath, I typed, What is it exactly that you want to do with my daughter??

She answered simply: I would LOVE to lick her pussy while you watch. Then I want to see you make love to her, kiss her sweet little naked body all over.

I stared blankly at the monitor. The shock I felt at seeing those words somehow knocked me completely off guard, so much so that I didn’t even recognize a wave of sexual heat building up in me until it hit like a loaded truck.

Somehow I managed to shut down the chat window before I fell to the floor, thrusting a hand between my legs to masturbate. I lay there panting furiously, fingering my cunt even harder than I had the night before, lost in a freaky fantasy like nothing I’d ever imagined.

I was thinking of my little girl as a sexual creature, imagining myself cuddling naked with her, teaching her about love. I pictured her bare, virgin slit, and saw myself licking it. I dreamed of the two of us, sharing passionate tongue kisses. I saw my own little nine-year-old daughter, joyfully giving herself to me.

What hidden corner of my mind had this desire emerged from? To this day, I don’t know the answer. True, I’d always enjoyed bathing with Lori, and had felt a keen disappointment when she no longer wanted me to join her in the tub. And I’d always been stirred by how beautiful my child was, the sight of her often making me glow inside. But those feelings had always seemed normal, something any mother might experience.

Had I already wanted my little girl as a lover without knowing it? As I lay there on the carpet, plunging three fingers into my dripping cunt, just about anything seemed possible.

I pounded myself through two frenzied orgasms, one immediately following the first —  immersed all the while in weird sex scenarios involving Lori. Somehow afterwards I made it to my feet and stumbled into the bedroom, where I promptly passed out.

The next morning, I made my way to the kitchen in a daze as if I’d been boozing it up the night before, all the lewd thoughts I’d had forgotten as I started the coffee, steeling myself for another day at the office. But when I saw Lori wander in, sleepy-eyed in her little pink top and white cotton panties, it came back to me in a rush, all the sordid images of incest and pedophilia I’d masturbated to just hours earlier.

I was consumed with remorse. My God, how could I have ever have had such thoughts about my baby? She was so sweet, so innocent, and above all, so trusting — and there I was, getting off to thoughts of taking her into my bed for my own fucked-up, selfish pleasure. For heaven’s sake, I was her mother. How could I fantasize about my little girl that way, even if it was just a masturbation scenario?

After breakfast, I passed by my study and stared grimly at the computer, sitting there silently, betraying not a hint of the perversion it had spurred me into.

Maybe I should have the Internet account closed, I thought.

I toyed with the notion for a few minutes, then decided to sleep on it for a day or two before I did anything drastic.

As the day passed on the job, I began to calm down a bit. Maybe I’d gotten carried away the night before because it had been so damn long since I’d gotten laid. Taking care of Lori filled up so much of my life, after all, and let’s face it, being the single mother of a “special needs” child — God, how I hate that fucking expression! —  made the dating scene a hell of a lot more complicated than it already was. Just finding a competent babysitter could be a major headache.

Still, I told myself, if you’re having perverted sex fantasies about your nine-year-old daughter, it’s a sign that, whatever it takes, you need to get out there and find someone to fuck, if only for one night.

Maybe that was what I needed — a good old-fashioned one-night stand. No relationship, no potential love interest, just someone to make my bed shake for one crazy evening. And since I’d been thinking in terms of a female partner, it was definitely a woman I longed for. Still, I didn’t feel quite ready to hit the lesbian bar scene, not yet.

By the time I picked Lori up from her school, I was feeling somewhat better. True, the memory of my twisted fantasies about her were still fresh, and I could feel stirrings of arousal at the sight of my smiling little girl as she ran to the car, her bare legs flashing in the afternoon sun beneath that pretty blue skirt she wore. But I felt that these longings were temporary, and I was strong-willed enough to purge them from my mind.

All of which, I suppose, goes to show how foolish we can be in the face of sexual desire. Lust is a demon who, once conjured up, won’t be banished with the wave of a magician’s wand. She’ll catch you unawares when you least expect it — and there you’ll be, a bitch in heat with itching fingers and soaked panties.

That night, as I tucked Lori into bed, I bent down to kiss her goodnight, just as I always have. When my lips touched her cheek, I suddenly felt an almost uncontrollable urge to turn her face to mine and kiss her on the mouth. In my mind’s eye, I saw my tongue sliding between Lori’s lips; saw an affectionate peck turn passionate.

I recoiled, frantic with fear at the realization what I’d almost done — what I longed to do. I felt it between my legs, that familiar twinge I get when I’m on fire with sexual want. But it wasn’t thoughts of a grownup lover that filled my mind, male or female — it was my nine-year-old daughter who made me wet!

No, no, no! This isn’t happening…

I hurriedly whispered “Goodnight, baby girl,” rushed into my room and threw myself on the bed, terrified and shivering at this… this insane thing that was snarling and writhing inside me. For God’s sake — did I have no control over myself?

As if to prove that I didn’t, my hand seemed to naturally find its way into the skimpy panties I wore, seeking my shaved pussy. In desperation, I plunged two fingers deep into my vagina, trying to visualize something, anything besides my little girl, stretched out on her bed naked, gazing up at me with those big blue eyes, so warm and loving — no, God damn it, NO!

Desperately flailing about for a distraction from these thoughts of Lori, I summoned up the memory of a lesbian film clip I’d seen once and never forgotten: a thirtyish woman having her pussy eaten by a cute young dyke with a crew cut. In my mind I desperately seized the image, hugged it close, pictured myself spread out on a bed, imagined a hot, eager mouth feasting on my cunt.

Yes, this is what I should be dreaming of, being taken by a real lover… mmmmyeah, a strong, sexy girl.

I made the young lesbian go down on me, visualized my trembling fingers touching her bristling red hair, cropped close on her skull. Something about that spurred my crazy lust even higher.

Suddenly the fantasy shifted; it wasn’t me she was licking, but my nine-year-old daughter. I saw this imaginary lesbian going down on Lori, tasting the bare slit of my child, whose face was aglow with bliss. I stood naked next to the bed, watching this butch teen make love to my little girl.

Lost in this fantasy, I did the most unimaginable thing. Clambering onto the bed, I carefully straddled Lori’s face, lowering my wet sex to her open mouth.

As I masturbated, I imagined the feel of her tongue as it cautiously explored my cunt, then grew bolder, burrowing inside me. I fingered my clit as my little girl ate me sweetly, lovingly; all the while watching her getting licked by that sexy teen with the crew cut.

Then I was coming hard, blows of pleasure crashing into me, battering away what little sense I had left.

After coming at least three times, I laid in bed totally exhausted. My head spun crazily, as if I’d spent the night knocking back tequila shots. The very walls seemed to be wobbling. Finally, I collected myself — and that’s when the guilt set in, just like before.

My God, I’d done it again! My poor little Lori. She was only a child, for Christ’s sake; my daughter, my own flesh and blood! I couldn’t allow myself to feel this way, not ever.

And yet, and yet… the vision of my naked child taunted me, made me crave things I shouldn’t. I pictured her wearing nothing but a sweet smile, wanting Mommy to play with her in this new, exciting way.

I felt torn in two as the motherly, protective side of me did battle with the newly emerging lesbian, the half that ached to teach my little girl everything about love.

Oh, I told myself that this was just a momentary craving — I was sure to get over it once I really explored sex with a woman.

By JetBoy

I can’t exactly remember how I got there, only that I’m somehow seated in a nearby chair, drinking in huge gulps of the cool, clear afternoon air. My eyes slowly flutter open, and there is my Cinnamon, standing before me with both hands clasped shyly before her. Mom’s arms are wrapped around my baby’s thin waist.

“I love you, Mommy!” squeals Cinnamon, the nude little imp climbing into my lap and squirming deliciously against me. “That was even more fun than I had with Susie!” She peers up at me, blushing. “Can we kiss some more? Pretty please?”

Our mouths seem to drift together, and I sigh in happy disbelief as my daughter feeds me her tongue. I respond, kissing the girl with a passion that warms my soul.

And then there is my mother, perched on the arm of the chair, the heat of her mouth brushing my neck. I turn to her, and she crushes her lips to mine, cupping my face between both hands and fucking me with a probing tongue. I lose myself in Mom’s embrace, letting her have me.

Then she breaks away, turning to stare lustfully at Cinnamon, and their mouths slowly come together. I marvel at the sight of my own mother and daughter, French kissing like the most ardent of lovers. I can already feel my desire reawakening, as if the earthshaking orgasm I’d just been nailed by had been scarcely more than a tremor.

Their lips gently part, and Mom glances at each of us in turn. “So,” she murmurs, a curious gleam in her eyes, “who’s Susie?”

My child blushes and giggles, and suddenly seems to be very interested in a patch of grass near her feet. I answer: “She’s Cinnamon’s best friend… though you could say that Susie is, well, her first lover.”

My daughter peers at me as she mulls over this bit of information… then a huge smile appears on her face. “Wow, yeah…” she whispers. “That’s so cool!”

Mom laughs, placing a hand on Cinnamon’s neck, lightly stroking her granddaughter’s soft skin. “Well, that’s very sweet…” Her hand slips down my child’s chest, fingers brushing her tiny nipples. “…and you’re truly a lucky little lady. By my count, you have three lovers now.”

“Ah, yes,” I reply, grinning hugely. “I think you’re right.”

Cinnamon glances from me to Mom and back again, puzzled for a heartbeat or two. Then she squeals in giddy delight, throwing both arms around my neck and hugging me, sobbing, “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” Before I can draw a breath she’s sliding from my lap and racing to her grandmother to embrace her every bit as tightly, burying her face in Mom’s generous breasts.

My mother nuzzles Cinnamon’s light blond hair, reaching down to squeeze her cute little bottom. Then, with a gentle pat, Mom straightens. “Come, ladies… let’s move this party indoors.”

I stand on somewhat unsteady legs, and we three march naked into my mother’s house, leaving our clothes and swimsuits scattered around the pool.

Mom leads the way, giving Cinnamon and I a good look at her shapely ass. My mother is a still-sexy forty-six, having had me after getting pregnant as a high school sophomore. She’s built like one of those nudes in a Renaissance painting — lively, luscious and full-figured.

Her buttocks are moving enticingly as she mounts the stairs, and my daughter and I exchange a mischievous glance when we catch each other staring. “Look at Grandma’s bottom!” she whispers excitedly.

I can’t help but agree. Few things thrill me more than a woman’s sexy ass, and I was already imagining burying my face between Mom’s cheeks and licking her butt crack. Soon, I promised myself.

I grin at my daughter. “We had a saying, back when I was a teenager,” I tell her, my eyes shifting back to Carol’s jiggling rump. “It went, ‘Do fries go with that shake’?”

Cinnamon grins back. “She’s bootylicious!”

As we reach the top of the staircase, Mom studies us with folded arms, a mock-scowl on her lips and a twinkle in her eyes. “If you youngsters are finished passing racy comments on my ass, we’ve got business to attend to.” She leads us into her bathroom, pointing to the shower. “You’re not getting that oil on my Versace sheets.”

I roll my eyes in amusement as we pile inside, Mom bringing up the rear.

Three people in a shower designed for one is a pretty tight squeeze, but it can be a marvelous experience if you’re into it. And we are definitely into it.

Mom pops open a bottle of orange body wash, and the air quickly fills with the scent of citrus as we slather one another with the stuff. And then the fun really gets started.

How delicious it is, the three of us carrying on like horny school kids in the shower; bodies slipping and sliding together in a tangle of sweet-smelling flesh, hands wandering freely. Cinnamon demands more kisses, so Mom and I take turns reaming her pretty little mouth with our tongues. But everyone gets their share of attention in a steamy lesbian make-out session that quickly sharpens our appetites for a further round of fun and games — to be resumed in Mom’s bed.

We emerge, our bodies glowing pinkly, and take turns toweling one another dry before Cinnamon squeals “Come on!” racing into my mother’s adjoining boudoir. She leaps onto Mom’s unmade bed and jumps up and down impatiently as we grownups follow. “Come on come on come on come on!”

“Little imp,” growls Mom, scooping a giggling Cinnamon into both arms and waltzing her around the room, rocking her to and fro a few times like an infant before throwing her back on the bed. My little girl shrieks with delighted laughter as she bounces, then falls silent, staring eagerly at Mom.

Absently letting her towel drop to the carpet, my mother climbs onto the bed, staring into Cinnamon’s eyes, desire written plainly on her face as she reaches out for my daughter’s hand. She tugs the little girl into her arms, enfolding her in a warm embrace. My child tilts her head back to gaze adoringly at her grandmother, then closes her eyes, waiting to be kissed.

I quietly seat myself at the end of the bed, heart thumping at the enchanting sight of my mother and ten-year-old child coming together as lovers. Mom bends down to claim Cinnamon’s mouth with her own, and they kiss gently, lingeringly. Then my daughter’s tongue emerges to play, and Mom sucks at the fluttering pink tip.

Things heat up rather quickly at that point. Suddenly my mother is groping Cinnamon’s bottom and tongue-fucking her childish mouth, while my little girl’s hands explore Mom’s breasts, plucking at the engorged nipples.

Then my daughter is peering back over her shoulder at me, her eyes positively dancing. “Come play with us, Mommy!”

“In a minute, honey,” I reply. “I want to watch you and your grandmother for a little while.”

“Okay,” Cinnamon coos, turning back to Carol and throwing both arms around her neck. They kiss again, and I thrill to the sight of the lustful heat that flows between woman and child, watching their tongues meet and mingle. Then Mom slowly falls back onto the bed, carrying Cinnamon with her.

I’m gently fingering my cunt while my child and my mother make love, rolling about on the bed; their hands eagerly exploring one another’s nude bodies as they kiss again and again.

Then Mom is on her back, and Cinnamon wriggles on top of her, announcing, “Stay still, Grandma, and don’t move… it’s my turn, I get to do stuff to you now!” Her jaw is firmly set, her voice insistent.

My mother laughs joyously, relaxing back into the sheets. “How can I say no?” she coos, stroking my child’s bare back. “I can’t resist you, my sweet little nymph.”

“You better not even try!” Cinnamon growls. She squirms down Mom’s body like a slippery pink fish, fastening her mouth to a generous breast.

“Jesus,” my mother moans, cradling Cinnamon to her.

My child sucks at the left nipple, then the right; fondling Mom’s breasts with both hands while she nurses. I can feel a deep pulse in my cunt that builds to a roar as I anticipate my darling Cinnamon loving me in the same forbidden way.

Then she is leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down her grandmother’s body, pausing to dart her tongue into Carol’s belly button. Mom gasps in surprise, eyes popping open for an instant; then they drift shut as she murmurs, “Silly girl.”

Grinning, my daughter continues downward, nuzzling Mom’s tummy and lower until she is lying between her grandmother’s thighs, staring at her juicy cunt. Cinnamon moistens her lips, then presses her mouth into the generous tuft of Mom’s pubes.

This is no tentative, cautious licking. My little girl is going down on Carol with everything she has, eating pussy and loving it. Her blissful humming and the wet, slurping sounds Cinnamon makes become a lustful music that perfectly accompanies her grandmother’s moans and cries. Mom’s fingers are tangled in Cinnamon’s golden tresses, holding my daughter’s face to her sex as she whispers “Sweet child… oh God — oh God I love you…”

Then my mother’s eyes flutter open, meeting mine. “C-come here, Angela,” she pants, “right now. I want to… to taste your cunt.”

I quickly crawl toward Carol, moving on all fours until I’m kneeling beside her. Without a word I straddle her face, slowly lowering my sex to Mom’s open mouth. I’m dripping wet and ready for her, but still feel a surprising jolt of ecstasy when she hits me with that first kiss, then thrusts her tongue deep into my hole.

“Fuck, Mom!” I exclaim, parting my thighs even wider for this delicious penetration.

I am bowed forward while I ride her mouth, taking in the incredible sight of my ten-year-old Cinnamon performing cunnilingus on her grandmother. Her eyes are glazed with pleasure, her nose buried in the dark curls of Carol’s bush. It’s lesbianism, incest and pedophilia tangled up in one glorious knot of taboo sexuality, and I’ve never witnessed anything so beautiful.

Wanting to share in my baby’s happiness, I lie down on top of Mom, pressing my breasts into her belly as I bring my face to within a few inches of my daughter’s. “I love you, Cinnamon,” I breathe, on the verge of joyful tears as I gaze upon my dreamy-eyed child.

Cinnamon lifts her face from my mother’s vulva, her mouth and chin shiny with moisture, and we meet in a heated kiss that has my head reeling. My daughter and I swap tongues, sharing the sharp, sweet tang of Carol’s cunt between us. Breaking away, she gasps “I love you too, Mommy!” then burrows between her grandmother’s legs once more.

Mom’s mouth is doing incredible things to my pussy, her tongue circling the entrance, pausing occasionally to flick at my clitoris. It’s clear that she is well versed in the art of lesbian love, and I wonder how the secret of her passion for women could have eluded my notice for so very long.

Cinnamon’s lips are glued to Mom’s cunt, so I allow my fingers to join in the action, seeking out the fleshy nub of Carol’s clitoris. A shudder races through her body in response. I feel Mom’s finger pressing against my rosebud, seeking entrance. I’m already moist there, so she penetrates my anus easily, with one smooth stroke.

The very breath seems to rush from my lungs as my mother’s finger pushes inside — and it somehow becomes a strangled cry as a convulsive orgasm comes down, smashes into me like a crumbling wall.

I am shaking helplessly when I come, especially my arms and legs — but somehow I manage to keep rubbing Mom’s clit. And then she is climaxing along with me, her body bucking beneath mine as she moans into my vulva. Through blurred eyes I glimpse Cinnamon’s head moving along with my mother’s churning hips; my little girl hanging on tightly, still eating Grandma’s pussy.

I ride the pounding waves of ecstasy as far as they will take me, then drift back to shore dazed and concussed, sprawled atop my mother’s soft, womanly frame. She lies nearly motionless beneath me, her breath warm against my still-tingling sex and the length of her finger still buried in my rectum. Cinnamon is nuzzling my face, whispering fervent declarations of love. Then she crawls to the head of the bed to do the same for her grandmother, idly caressing my ass while she kisses Mom.

It takes my mother and I a moment to collect ourselves after ecstasy of such magnitude, and once we catch our breath, Carol and I turn our attention to my darling daughter. We trap Cinnamon between us, showering her with caresses. Needless to say, my ten-year-old proves to be a most willing prisoner.

Mom has yet to taste Cinnamon’s pussy, and very much wants to, so she lies between my baby’s thighs and begins to lavish affection on her bare slit. As for me, I hold the child in my arms, fondling as much of her as I can reach, kissing her little-girl mouth again and again. My fingers tease her nipples, then lightly pinch them.

Cinnamon is placid at first, purring like a newborn kitten as Mom and I make love to her. Soon, though, she is squirming in my grasp, mewling helplessly in the grip of her mounting pleasure. She moans into our kissing, her tongue tangling sweetly with mine. Then she breaks away, burying her face against my shoulder, panting furiously. Her fingernails bite into my skin where she clutches me.

I glance down the length of Cinnamon’s body for a glimpse of my mother as she licks and kisses her granddaughter’s vagina. I’m struck by how happy she looks, as if there was no place she’d rather be but in bed with me and my child. Suddenly I wonder if this is the first time Carol has made love to a little girl.

My thoughts are interrupted by my daughter’s wild cry, torn from her body as she seizes up in orgasm. She falls away from me, body arching from the bed, little fists snatching at the sheets while Mom suckles her clitoris.

On impulse, I begin to lick at her nipples, bathing the tiny pink buds with my tongue. Cinnamon throws her arms around my neck, clutching me tightly to her flat chest, panting “Oh, Mommy, f-feels so good Mommy oh oh yes OHHHH!” Her voice rises to a sharp squeal, then she goes steel-rigid for a few seconds before collapsing limply into my embrace.

I cradle my naked little girl to me, calming her, brushing the bangs from her damp face. Mom crawls up from the foot of the bed to lie on the other side of Cinnamon, and we hug my precious ten-year-old between us. Carol’s mouth is sticky with my daughter’s essence, and I lean over Cinnamon to lick at my mother’s lips, eager for a taste. Placing a hand upon the back of my head, Mom crushes her mouth to mine in a hot, hungry kiss.

Finally we part, the two of us out of breath and staring into one another’s flushed faces. I see something in Mom’s eyes that tells me that we’ve shared something more than just lesbian sex, and the golden warmth I feel in the pit of my belly seems to be in agreement. Am I falling in love with her? I wonder.

I look down at my daughter, still nestled cozily between Mom and me… only to find her wearing a sulky expression, thrusting out her lower lip. “Don’t I get any kisses?” she pouts.

My mother and I exchange a glance and a quick grin; then we pounce at the same instant on my suddenly giggling little girl, the two of us kissing her face over and over again until Cinnamon howls with laughter, finally begging us to stop.

We three lie snuggled together, blissfully content. The bedroom window is open, and sounds of the dimming afternoon drift through. There are still a few birds chirping, and the faint voices of playing children can be heard down the street. A lawnmower sputters into action, dies with a cough, then starts again.

My hand is resting on Cinnamon’s bottom, and I lazily cup a small, soft cheek. She gently nuzzles my breast, and I feel a surge of adoration for my child that warms me from head to toe. I’m in love with her, too, I tell myself. What a situation.

My reverie is interrupted when my daughter suddenly lifts her head up to announce, “I’m hungry.”

Kids. I roll my eyes in amusement — then pause as I realize how long it’s been since lunch. And we’ve just had quite the workout, after all. Hmmm… yes, it’s definitely time for what Winnie-the-Pooh calls “a little something.”

I raise my head to look questioningly at Mom. She glances from Cinnamon to me, then back again. With an affectionate laugh, she rises to her feet, stretches languidly, then smiles. “Come with me, ladies.”

Still naked, we three troop downstairs to the kitchen where, amidst much jollity, we manage to fill a large serving tray with sliced fruit, cubes of several different cheeses, and rounds of bread cut from a long fluted loaf. Mom selects a good Cabernet, Cinnamon unearths a bottle of grape juice from the cluttered refrigerator, and I grab three glasses before we march back up to the bedroom in the merriest of moods.

Mom takes a quilt from the closet and spreads it over the bed, and we hungrily tuck into our improvised feast. Soon we begin to feed one another with our fingers, which quickly becomes a sensual game as we alternate nibbles of cheese and fruit with kisses. Mom dabs my nipple with a wine-moistened finger, then bends to lick it… and Cinnamon and I pass a chunk of apple back and forth with our tongues.

Finally, our bellies satisfied, we sprawl out on the bed and discuss what we’ve done this afternoon; how it might affect our lives as a family. I admit to feeling a bit apprehensive about entering into a sexual relationship with my mother and child, while Cinnamon wonders if I could really “be my mommy and my girlfriend at the same time.”

None of us are sure what the future will hold, but there is one point upon which all of us agree: come what may, we want to remain lovers. What we’d just shared in the heat of sexual intimacy was much too good, too precious to give up.

That established, we relax and begin to regale one another with tales of our lesbian experiences.

Mom goes first, describing how she had been seduced by one of her best friends at the tender age of sixteen. From then on, she preferred women as her sexual partners, but dabbled with men occasionally. My father, who she’d met in college, had actually known of her bisexuality from the start, and had allowed her to take female lovers, as long as she was discreet about it — which, as it transpired, included keeping her lesbian affairs a secret from me while I was growing up.

Dad had been killed in a ski-lift accident when I was nineteen, and it had been rough on Mom and myself, as we’d both adored him. “He was the only guy I ever loved that way,” she sighs, pausing for a sip of wine. After that all her relationships were with women, and out of respect for Dad’s memory she continued to keep her lesbian life private.

As it turns out, all the women in Mom’s tennis club are either gay or bi, even the married ones. Their little group is just a very clandestine way for my mother and her friends to indulge their sapphic cravings in our conservative community. That, by the way, was how Mom had learned of my own taste for females: a couple of years earlier, I’d had a brief fling with a young temp I met at the office, this fiery little punk girl who rocked my universe for two tempestuous weeks. That girl just happened to be the daughter of one of Mom’s tennis club fuck-buddies. Small world.

Then it’s my turn to speak. I tell Mom and Cinnamon of how I’d explored lesbian sex with more than a few girls during my years as a business major; even revealing a few of the kinkier things I’d done, like the day I went without panties and flashed my Women’s Studies professor during class. She got so flustered that she dropped a stack of graded essays that she was handing back to the other girls. But she paid me back with interest for my impertinence later, handcuffing me to the radiator in her office and giving me the fucking of my life with an eight-inch vibrator.

Finally, Mom and I listen raptly while my little girl describes what it was like to learn kissing with her friend Susie; how they had undressed, then bashfully touched one another’s nude bodies. Now her mind is buzzing with ideas about what she can teach her friend the next time they get together.

All this talk of matters sexual has revived our slumbering desires, and so we three come together once more to make love. This time we take things slowly, the reckless excitement of our first encounter replaced by a languid warmth that moves me to the verge of joyful tears. I can tell that my mother and daughter are just as overwhelmed as I from this big, beautiful thing we have found. We all somehow climax together, sharing a mutual orgasm that felt like a benediction from on high.

Mom insists that Cinnamon and I stay the night — as if we’d had any intention of leaving! — so, happy but weary, we slip beneath the love-warmed sheets, exchanging hugs and some extremely passionate kisses before turning out the lights.

I fall asleep quickly, snuggled closely to my new lovers.

*****

Five years have passed since that amazing afternoon… and incredibly enough, the three of us are still sexually intimate. We are free to make love with whoever we please, of course; but my mother, my daughter and I always seem to gravitate back to one another.

Mom has introduced me to the ladies of her tennis club, and I’ve become an enthusiastic participant in their fun and games. In fact, my mother has shared me with her friends more than a few times. Just last month, we had a little party where I served the club members while dressed in nothing but a bow tie and a thong, and Mom offered me up to the ladies as their submissive sex toy for the entire evening. All five women, my mother included, had their wicked way with me; and I came more times than I could count.

Yes, Mom has unearthed and nurtured that side of me that loves to be dominated. Now she is my mistress just as much as a parent. Several months after our first time together, Cinnamon and I moved out of the poky apartment where we lived and into Mom’s house, where I can truly belong to the strong, beautiful woman who gave birth to me.

Actually, I have another mistress as well: my daughter Cinnamon, who is now an exquisite teenager of fifteen. She has developed a serious taste for dominant sex herself — I guess the gene skipped a generation — and she and I often get up to some very twisted antics together.

Last night, after she finished her homework, Cinnamon called me up to her room and ordered me to strip, then climb onto her bed and lie face down. She tied my wrists and ankles to the oaken bedposts, then teased me with her fingers, lips and tongue until I wanted to scream. I couldn’t, though — my daughter had not given permission to talk. Finally, Cinnamon took pity on me and put on this lovely strap-on cock I’d purchased for her at our town’s only adult sex store, paused to dab a bit of Vaseline on my anus and fucked my ass until I fainted from sheer, unbridled ecstasy.

When I came to, she unfastened my bonds and held me tenderly in her arms, where we whispered vows of devotion and shared the sweetest of kisses. You see, although I’m often used as a personal plaything by Cinnamon, she truly adores me… and the rough, demanding pleasure she gives her mommy is the most wonderful way I know of for my child to show her love.

Most people would be horrified by the secret life I lead with my mother and daughter. They hear the word incest and refuse to let themselves see the wondrous possibilities of a life like mine. The loss is theirs. Honestly, I consider myself blessed.

*****

This story was adapted and vastly expanded from a very short but extremely hot vignette by one-time Leslita author Luvcameltoes, entitled Intergenerational Story. My fervent thanks to that writer for the inspiration.

By JetBoy

It’s a hot August day, and I’m sitting on the patio outside my mother Carol’s house, whiling away the afternoon while Mom is off playing tennis with her friends. My ten-year-old daughter Cinnamon is nearby, splashing playfully in the swimming pool as I lounge in a striped deckchair, sunbathing in a skimpy bikini.

The summer sun warms my oiled body, giving me a sweet tingling between the legs. Almost without thinking, I press my thumb against the thin material covering my pussy. A prickle of pleasure wafts through me, and I begin to fondle myself more intently, fingers snaking between my thighs to brush a now throbbing clitoris.

Suddenly I realize that my little girl is standing right next to me, clearly curious as to what I’m up to. I glance down to see the crotch of my bikini bottoms pushed to one side, revealing my shaved slit.

“What’re you doing, Mommy?” Cinnamon asks, her head tilted to one side.

I raise my head, studying my daughter. She is an adorable, gazelle- like creature, still wet from the pool in her two-piece bathing outfit. Her sapphire-blue eyes are wide as she watches me, and I quickly adjust my suit. For a fleeting instant, I catch a glimpse of what looks like… disappointment on Cinnamon’s face. Is she really that interested in seeing my pussy?

Despite my display of modesty, the arousal I’m feeling is now even stronger. I don’t know why, but I’m kind of turned on at the thought of my little girl watching me pleasure myself. I’m bisexual, with a strong preference for women and a secret craving for young girls, but I’ve never been sexually aroused by Cinnamon before. Well, almost never.

I gently tell her, “Mommy is just making herself feel good, baby.”

She ponders this for a moment, nibbling at her lower lip, then says, “I do that, too. Susie showed me how.”

Susie? Stunned, I slowly sit up in the chair, mind racing. Susie was Cinnamon’s best friend, and they were close, but I had no idea that they had been exploring their bodies together.

“What… what kinds of things did she show you?” I keep my voice casual, not wanting to startle Cinnamon with my eagerness to know more.

An apprehensive look flutters across her face, as if she suddenly realizes that she’s said too much. Placing a hand on her arm, I give it a comforting squeeze. “It’s all right, honeybunch… there’s nothing wrong with you and Susie playing that way. In fact, that’s one of the nicest things that girls can do together.” I smile warmly. “So… what else happened?”

Shy but willing, my daughter continues. “Well… she, um, taught me how to kiss… for when we get boyfriends, you know? With tongues and everything.” She grins, her cheeks turning a lovely pink. “It felt weird, at first… but I liked it!”

My heart is pounding, though I manage to keep my cool. “That sounds nice, honey. My best friend was the one who showed me how to kiss, too.” Actually, we went much further than kissing, but Cinnamon didn’t need to know that just yet.

“Really? Did she… touch you, too?” coos Cinnamon. “Me and Susie did that.”

Oh, my God, this is incredible. I’m dying to hear everything, but don’t want to seem too excited. “Did you undress first?” I ask.

Cinnamon nods, her eyes wide. “How’d you know that, Mommy?”

I grin. “Oh, that’s what girls do, when they get together to play… private games.” I touch Cinnamon’s bare shoulder. “Go on, tell me more about what you little imps got up to!”

She sways to and fro, her hands clasped before her, now happy to share her secret. “We just snuggled with our clothes off, and we kissed a lot. Then we took turns” — her voice dropped to a whisper — “touching each other’s kitty!” She giggles, pleased with her boldness. “I… I really liked doing that, Mommy.”

By now, I’m so fucking hot from picturing my little girl playing lesbian games with her cute little friend that I have to get myself off — I have to! And since Cinnamon is no stranger to this kind of activity, I see no reason why she can’t see Mommy make herself feel good.

“Honey,” I begin, “I’m feeling all warm down in my own kitty, just from hearing about you and Susie… and, um, I sort of need to touch myself some more.” I swallow, then add, “You can watch, if you’d like.”

Cinnamon’s eyes are absolutely huge. She slowly nods. “Okay…”

She perches at the bottom of my deck recliner, utterly fascinated as she watches me slip a hand inside my bikini bottoms and begin to masturbate. Her eyes are riveted to my fingers as they move beneath the thin material.

God, I don’t know why, but this is getting me hotter by the minute. I am so wet and turned on with my little girl observing me that I stop to tug my bikini bottoms off, then drop them to one side. Then I figure why not, and take my top off too. Now naked, I part my thighs and slide a finger deep into my honeypot.

I’m a little worried about the possibility of freaking Cinnamon out, but a glance confirms that my daughter is totally into this, watching eagerly as I pleasure myself. In fact, her hand steals up to her chest, absently touching her budding breasts through the bikini top she wears. I nearly moan out loud when Cinnamon brushes her nipples with the tips of her fingers, and I could swear that I see them stiffen before my eyes. I suddenly imagine myself sucking them, feeling my baby’s nipples swell in my mouth.

God in heaven, I’m seeing my own child as a sexual creature — and, for the first time, as an object of forbidden desire.

I can’t believe what I’m thinking, even as the idea is flitting about in my head like a trapped bird, but there it is, waiting for me to make it real. I know how utterly wrong this craving is, honestly I do. But I also find myself imagining how wonderful it would be for my little girl to discover love with her mother. We adore each other already… why couldn’t she and I take our relationship one step further? Somehow, at this instant, it all makes perfect sense.

Heart pounding, knowing that I’m crossing a dangerous line, I whisper, “Honey… do you want to help Mommy feel good?”

Her face lights up, and she excitedly says “Sure!”

I motion her closer, taking her hand, then bring it to my lips to kiss her palm, whispering, “I love you, baby.” My gaze never leaving hers, I draw that hand between my thighs, placing it on my mons. “See, now… this is where you came from, just ten years ago.”

My daughter’s lips are parted, a look of wonder on her face. “You feel warm, Mommy!” Her fingers are tentatively exploring my sex, and it feels so good that I’m seeing stars.

Biting my lip, I manage to say, “That’s because I’m all excited, sweetheart… and when you touch me this way you excite me, you know — very much.”

“Wow,” she breathes, her hand still lightly fondling my vulva.

“Here, honey,” I murmur, “let me show you something else you can do.” I carefully position two of Cinnamon’s fingers at the entrance to my vagina, then slowly ease them inside.

“Mommy,” my child breathes, practically shivering with excitement.

Cinnamon’s fingers are buried in me, deep as they can go… and I grip her hand tightly for a moment, marveling at how lovely they feel. Then I release her, settling back into the deck chair. “Good… very good. N-now move your fingers in and out, baby.”

Cinnamon begins slowly at first, but soon her wrist is moving steadily, fingers pumping in and out of my cunt. It feels so fucking good — but I can take more.

I place a shaking hand on my daughter’s arm to stop her, taking a deep breath to steady myself before I speak. “Cinnamon, honey… you know, your whole hand c-can fit into Mommy’s pussy, if you push it inside slowly.” Cupping her face, I whisper, “Will you do that for me? ”

She nods eagerly, her eyes alight with excitement.

I lie back and spread myself open for her. Cinnamon presses into me, her brow furrowed as she concentrates. A moan escapes me as her knuckles slide past the vaginal ring, and then, suddenly, she is inside. Oh, my goodness.

I close my eyes and push back against her hand, gradually taking her up to the wrist. My body is vibrating with tiny tremors, as if an earthquake was massing in my center. She is bent over me, absorbed in her work; and I can feel her breath caress my clit.

In a shaky voice I tell her to make a fist, gasping in disbelief as she does. Then I breathe, “Okay, honey… now, move your hand forward and back, just like you were doing with your fingers. Start slowly, though.”

She begins, and I moan ecstatically at the unimaginable fullness I feel, a deep-banked mixture of pain and pleasure that is too intense for words. My baby’s hands are dainty and very elegant, but all I know at that moment is that her little fist is bigger than any cock I’ve ever had inside me.

With trembling lips I stammer, “Okay, Cinnamon… you can g-go faster now.”

Her pace gradually accelerates, and I want to scream at how utterly divine it is. My body is alive like never before as I buck against my little girl’s probing hand. No lover has ever fisted me before, and it feels incredible.

“That’s it, b-baby, twist your hand… and… and… oh yes! YES! Oh Cinnamon that’s so good!” I gasp.

“I love how you smell, Mommy!” my little girl pants, her face inches from my cunt as she works her hand around inside.

Then the craziest impulse hits me, and I find myself wondering just how far I can get my daughter to go.

“Cinnamon, h-honey,” I stammer, unable to believe what I’m on the verge of asking, “Would you like to — ooh, that’s so nice — do you want to make Mommy feel even b-better than this?”

Her eyes are sparkling with excitement. “Yes, Mommy,” she coos, her hand still buried deep inside me. “What do I do?”

I place a finger against my clitoris. “Lick me, honey, right here. If you like the way it smells, you’ll love how I taste.” I bring a wet finger to my lips and suck at it. “Mmmm… it’s yummy.”

My daughter, wide-eyed with curiosity, moves closer to my sex. She gives my clit a timid swipe with her tongue, and I moan out loud. “Oh, yes, baby… oh, yes.”

Clearly liking the taste, Cinnamon begins to lick me with growing enthusiasm. She’s so focused on this new task that her thrusts have ceased, but that hardly matters — every tiny movement of my baby’s hand has my head reeling, and the sensation of her warm tongue teasing my clitoris is positively electric. I’m shivering from head to toe, breathing in frantic gasps.

I place a shaking hand on my daughter’s head. “That’s it, honey! Now… nibble at it a little bit! Oh yes, honey! You’re Mommy’s sweet little girl…” I lean back in my chair, head spinning, edging toward an unimaginable orgasm. Cinnamon has progressed from licking my clit to sucking at the inflamed tip, and her hand is beginning to churn about inside me again.

“Oh, my God,” I suddenly hear from a few feet away.

I sit upright, my daughter’s hand still stuffed deep in my vagina — and go rigid with horror.

My mother Carol towers above us in a white tennis outfit, an indecipherable look on her face. Jesus… she wasn’t supposed to be home for two more hours!

Mom has caught me having sex with my little girl. My life is over.

I quickly look away, my pulse galloping as Cinnamon removes her hand from me with a slurping sound. There’s a roaring in my ears, a cold slab of ice in my belly.

I wait for my mother to explode in rage, but the storm fails to materialize. Somehow I force my gaze up to meet hers, and get another shock when I see… she’s smiling!?

Mom turns to my daughter, who’s sitting frozen, hands clutched in her lap, on the verge of frightened tears.

“Cinnamon,” Carol gently asks, “are you and your mommy having fun?”

“Uh-huh,” comes Cinnamon’s timid reply, my child barely able to meet her grandmother’s gaze.

Mom squats down next to my daughter, placing a hand on her arm. “May I have some fun with you and Mommy, too?”

“Um… sure!” Cinnamon responds, tilting her face up in surprise.

My jaw drops as Mom turns to me, eyes aglow. Reaching out, she draws me to her with a tug, claiming my mouth with hers. She kisses me passionately, thrusting her tongue into my mouth. Stunned as I am, I can’t help but respond… and so I return Mom’s kiss without hesitation, my tongue flashing to life to join hers.

Mom pulls back slightly, her nose barely touching mine. “I’m into women too, baby,” she murmurs, “and I’ve wanted you ever since I found out you were bi.”

Our mouths meet again, and I melt into the kiss… letting my mother know without a word that I am hers.

Then Mom turns to Cinnamon, who is staring at us with enormous eyes as me and my mother make out like lovers.

“Would you like to kiss me too, honey…?” Mom coos.

Bashfully, biting her lower lip, my baby nods.

Mom draws my little girl into her arms. I open my mouth to protest, then stop. How can I refuse my mother the right to kiss her granddaughter, when the child was licking my clitoris not two minutes ago?

Carol tilts her head slightly to kiss Cinnamon, her lips brushing my daughter’s mouth. Where Mom was rough with me, the kisses she gives my little girl are warm and sensuous.

Needless to say, Cinnamon quickly gets over any shyness she might be feeling. I shiver at the sight of my mother and daughter locked in a passionate embrace, their mouths sliding together, tongues dueling. I see Mom’s hand gliding down my child’s back to cup her pert little bottom.

Finally my mother plants one last kiss on her granddaughter’s mouth, then rises to her feet. Smiling down at Cinnamon, she softly says, “We’ll play some more in a minute, honey, but your grandmother needs some attention now.”

She turns to me. With a single violent motion, Mom rips the tennis skirt from her hips and tosses it to one side, leaving her in a white top and skimpy black panties.

I look up into her hungry eyes as my 45-year-old mother says “Make love to me, Angela.”

The firmness in her voice makes it clear that Mom will brook no disobedience. I haven’t heard that tone from her since I was in high school, running wild with the stoner kids and slackers.

My mother stands before me — strong, beautiful, magnificent. How can I possibly refuse her?

Instinctively, I reach around Carol to fondle her shapely ass with both hands, pressing my face into the rise of her mound. I slowly tug her panties down to her ankles, exposing a generous thatch of pubic hair and a thick scent of wet pussy that makes my mouth water.

I lean in close, knowing that this is where I came from — my mother’s vagina. And now I will thank her for the gift of life, by going down on this juicy cunt and eating Mom until she comes in my face.

Gently at first, I kiss and lick her slit. Then I’m parting her labia with trembling fingers, moaning into that luscious pubic forest as I eat my mother’s pussy in an unrestrained frenzy of lesbian lust.

Mom is riding my face fiercely, her nails digging into my shoulders. “Oh, God yes, lick me,” she moans, in front of my own baby girl — which only turns me on all the more.

I allow my hand to glide over her bare ass, fingers gently probing between her cheeks to stroke the anal pucker. Then I press the tip into Mom’s rectum, slipping my finger inside her right up to the third knuckle.

Mom reaches down to clumsily paw my breast, her fingers seeking and finding my nipple; giving it a pinch. Seeing stars, I moan into her cunt, then trail my tongue up through the dripping slice until I reach her clit. I flick playfully at the crimson nubbin once or twice before sucking it between my lips.

My mother cries out loud, her climax kicking in hard and fierce. I can feel her fingers tangling in my hair, the shuddering of her womanly frame when I suck the tip of her clitoris. Finally, she pushes my face away, then slowly sinks into a patio chair.

As soon as she catches her breath, Mom gazes at my daughter, a wicked smile crossing her face as she purrs, “Come here, Cinnamon,” accompanied by a crook of her finger.

My daughter dutifully pads over to stand expectantly beside my half-naked mother. Sitting up in her seat, Mom reaches around Cinnamon’s back to unfasten her top, letting it drop into the grass.

As I watch, every atom of me aching with lust, Mom tugs my baby’s bikini bottoms down to her feet, and Cinnamon daintily steps from them. My mother rises to help her granddaughter onto the nearby table, placing her on the edge to face me.

A tiny moan of stunned excitement escapes my lips. I’m seeing my little girl completely naked for the first time in years, and she is so lovely that I want to gobble her up.

As if reading my mind, Cinnamon grins excitedly as she spreads her legs, exposing her smooth sex. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss that juicy pink slit.

Mom moves over to me, unbuttoning and removing the tennis top she wears, then unfastening the bra to reveal her generous breasts. She bends to me and whispers, her warm breath caressing my ear, “Go on, Angela… taste her.”

I rise to my feet and move to where my Cinnamon lies, propped on both elbows and watching me with expectant eyes. Does she fully understand what is happening here? I’m not sure, but this much I do know: my daughter is now going to experience the delights of lesbian love. I will deny her nothing.

Standing above my awed little girl, I bend to kiss her left knee, then the other. She watches, a dreamy smile on her lips. I begin to nuzzle her thighs, slowly working my way between them. Her smile only widens. Encouraged, I trail kisses over the smooth flesh until my mouth is centimeters away from my daughter’s pussy. I stare, enthralled by the soft pink cleft, moist with the dew of a young girl’s arousal. So perfect, so innocent and untouched…

Closing my eyes, I move in to take that first lick, the tip of my tongue grazing Cinnamon’s slit. She whimpers, a delicious shiver coursing through her babyish body, and I lick her again.

She is delicious. Thirsting for more, I press my tongue into the moist flesh, reveling in the scent and taste of my daughter. Slipping my hands beneath her, I cup her soft little bottom, my lips parting to cover her sex with my mouth in the most intimate of kisses. My lovely child is quivering beneath me, mewling with pleasure.

Intoxicated by the newfound delights of lovemaking with Cinnamon, I’ve all but forgotten my mother. So I’m surprised for an instant when I feel her naked body against mine, her pelvis grinding into my ass as if she were fucking me from behind. I think longingly of the strap-on cock I keep under the bed back at home, wishing I had it now so that Mom could possess me completely. Next time, I promise myself.

Instead, I feel my mother’s hand slide around my body to roughly grope at my breasts, pausing to roll each nipple between the fingers, then she shoves her hand down to delve between my thighs. I part them, giving her full access, moaning long and low into my baby’s bare vulva when Mom plunges three fingers inside me.

Raising my head from Cinnamon’s mound for an instant, I look back to see my mother’s face, now transformed by lust. She’s a dominating she-beast, taking me, making me her slut. I stiffen with excitement at the thought, and am met with harder, deeper thrusts as her fingers curve into my vagina.

It seems so perfect, so obvious. I’ve always had serious submissive tendencies, and the idea of being sexually controlled by my beautiful mother makes my head reel. Mom is such a strong, confident woman, and I’d always relied on her advice, her guidance — why had I never thought of giving myself over to her this way?

And then there was my precious Cinnamon, now spread out before me, squirming on the table as I went down on her. How could I have fantasized about young girls for so long while overlooking the flawless gem of my own daughter? I might have raised her to be my lover from the beginning, I think, the tip of my tongue tracing her vulva like a paintbrush.

An image suddenly enters my mind of bringing a five-year-old Cinnamon into my bed, teaching my tousle-headed moppet the wonders of lesbian love. Or of pleasuring her as an infant; licking the delicate crease of her slit as she gurgles happily, little fists waving as Mommy’s fingers brush her tiny nipples.

Jesus, what a perverted bitch I am, I think. Back in the here and now, I slip my tongue into my preteen daughter’s virgin cunt; thrilled at the realization that, whatever her age, I was going to be my baby girl’s very first fuck.

The idea of performing oral sex on a ten-year-old girl is freaky enough, but when it’s the child’s adoring mother doing the licking… well, let’s say that it’s wilder and more twisted than I ever imagined I could be.

As if she can read my mind, Mom is hissing into my ear, “You’re a dirty, dirty slut, eating your daughter’s pussy like this,” as she continues to drive her fingers deep into me, rubbing her breasts against my back. “Now do her ass.”

My baby girl is wiggling and whimpering in ecstasy as I lick her juicy slit. Then when I lift her hips, then trail my tongue down to probe between her pert buttocks, she squeals in a mixture of surprise and delight, parting her legs even further to offer me full access to her rosebud.

Words can’t capture the adoration I feel for my precious child as she gives herself to me so sweetly, sighing “Oh, Mommy… oh, Mommy,” over and over as she experiences oral sex for the first time. But not the last, I tell myself. I’ll definitely be doing this again.

Wondering if I can make Cinnamon come, I draw back, using my fingers to expose her tiny clitoris… and take it between my lips to suckle, sending a ripple of pleasure coursing through her thin frame. Then I place my index finger against her opening and slowly, gently push the tip inside her. My child’s body stiffens for an instant… and then, wonder of wonders, she begins to push back against my loving intrusion, encouraging me to go deeper. I gasp in awe as my exploring digit slips into her body, entering her right up to the third knuckle.

Cinnamon has done gymnastics for years, so her hymen is gone. As long as it doesn’t cause my baby any pain, there’s no reason why I can’t fuck her, is there? Emboldened, I carefully roll my finger about inside her vagina, the tip making tiny circles. I begin, very slowly at first, to work it in and out.

“Ooooooh, Mommy… f-feels good!” Cinnamon stammers as she grinds lewdly against my finger, churning her hips in time to my steady strokes. Eager to give my daughter her first orgasm, I bend down to continue licking at her clitoris.

As for Mom, she continues to probe my cunt, her generous pubic tuft rubbing against my ass. She’s nuzzling my back and shoulders, then suddenly gives me a sharp bite on the neck that I’m sure is going to leave a visible mark. How am I going to explain that at the office? I think.

I imagine myself at the water cooler, running into that obnoxious dork Bob from Accounts Receivable, who smirks as he points at my neck, sniggering, Where’d you get THAT beauty? — then, the stunned look on his face as I casually reply, Oh, my mother gave me that in bed last night… she’s one insatiable lover.

My baby girl’s moans are steadily rising as I pleasure her with fingers and mouth. Suddenly, with an incredulous cry of “Oh yes, Mommy! OH!” she is coming, in quick shocks that jolt her thin body. I continue to lick and suck at Cinnamon’s vagina, guiding her through what I imagine must be her first ever climax, which rises to a quick peak. She goes limp, her head hitting the table with a barely audible thud.

I lift my face from between my daughter’s legs — and, clutching my shoulder, Mom roughly pulls me back into her until I’m standing upright. Our sweaty bodies are pressed together, and three of her fingers are buried up to the hilt in my throbbing cunt. She allows her hand to slide down my neck and around me to grope my tits. She nibbles my ear, then whispers, “I love you, Angela.”

“I love you too, Mom!” I gasp, clutching her hand to my breasts. Twisting my head around, I seek out her mouth and kiss her as passionately as I’m able to at this awkward angle, wanting to love my mother face to face, but needing her fingers to stay inside me. Our tongues flicker together like twinned flames as we share the taste of my daughter, then I break away, turning back to face Cinnamon, getting a firm grip on the table.

“Take me, Mom,” I plead, my head bowed. “Fuck me, hard as you can. Please… make me come!”

And she begins to work my cunt with an renewed aggression that has me panting, her fingers pumping in and out of my creamy hole like a slippery, relentless piston.

Still seated on the poolside table, Cinnamon watches avidly as my mother fucks me — hard, deep and rough, the way I like it best. Then I see Mom’s free hand beckoning her closer. My naked daughter clambers onto her knees and moves nearer to our hot incest action. It’s plain to see that she is eager to participate.

“Kiss your mommy, Cinnamon,” my mother pants.

My daughter’s gaze flickers to meet mine, a question in her eyes — and my answer is yes.

Cinnamon smiles happily as she leans into me and we kiss, her mouth angel-soft against mine. Surprising me, my child brings her tongue into play first, delicately licking at my lips. A delicious shudder runs through my body as I realize that my daughter is tasting her own juices on my mouth and chin. I curl an arm around Cinnamon’s waist as my lips part for her, returning her kiss as my heart throbs with love for this flawless child, born from my body.

Mom continues to fuck me, though more slowly now while I kiss my sweet baby girl. Each thrust of her fingers is a small explosion of pleasure, and I sense my climax approaching through the thick haze that seems to envelop me. It begins in my belly, a smoldering heat that quickly fans into flame, then mounts into a roaring holocaust.

Then my mother leans forward to whisper something in Cinnamon’s ear that I can’t make out. Suddenly my daughter breaks our kiss, bending down to take my right nipple into her warm mouth. Mom’s other arm has slipped around my waist, without me really noticing, but it certainly registers when her fingers seek out and find my inflamed clitoris.

My knees nearly buckle as I burst into a convulsive orgasm. Mindless of who might hear me, I cry out, “Oh, yes, Mom, yes! Fuck me! Cinnamon, baby, ooooh God I love you! I love you b-both! Ohhhhhh!”

Mom’s hands wriggle and work between my quivering legs, Cinnamon is rubbing her face against my breasts, kissing wildly at the soft flesh… and ecstasy soars as my incestuous lovers take me higher and higher. A strangled scream is ripped from my throat when the sensations reach an unimaginable peak that seems to occupy a small universe. Then everything breaks into tiny pieces, myself included.

Continue on to Part Two

By JetBoy

I bent to whisper in Beth’s ear. “Shall we go play with your sister and Gran?”

She twisted her head to beam at me. “Yes, Mama!” she lisped.

Taking my baby girl’s hand, I got up, went over to the sofa and sat down next to Mom. She turned to me, placed a hand behind my head and pulled me to her, crushing her mouth to mine in a hard kiss. That surprised me, I had to admit, but I quickly responded, my tongue meeting and engaging hers. Meanwhile, Beth climbed onto the sofa to seat herself on my thigh, burying her face in my breasts.

Chelsea was now standing on the other side of my mother, and when Mom and I finally parted, she shyly asked, “Can I have a kiss too, Grandma?”

Without hesitation Mom took my adolescent girl’s hand and drew her close, and their mouths met in a kiss that quickly grew hot and heavy. Chelsea had an incredibly sexy little mouth, and she knew how to use it. My mother moaned in astonishment as this naked young girl — her own grandchild — kissed her like a lover.

Beth tugged at Chelsea’s hand while her big sister was tongue-fucking Grandma. When the older girl turned to her, Beth piped, “Play with me now, Chelly.”

Chelsea knelt before her nude baby sibling, wrapping both arms around her. They hugged tightly, their bare, girlish bodies pressing together, then Chelsea bent to press her mouth into the hollow of Beth’s throat, making my baby girl coo in delight. My mother and I held one another, watching as my preteen’s tongue emerged, licking a path down to Beth’s flat chest. flicking at the rosy tip of her baby sister’s nipple a few times before taking it between her lips.

The sight inflamed me, as it always did when I watched my girls make love, and my mother’s body felt delicious against mine. So I turned back to Mom, kissing the woman who had given birth to me with a hunger I’d never imagined myself possessing for her. She returned my passion measure for measure, her tongue boldly probing my mouth. For the first time, I wondered if an appetite for lesbian incest ran in our family.

Finally breaking our kiss, Mom grasped my shoulder so tightly it hurt. “I’ve had fantasies about you and me, Mary… ever since you became a teenager. Maybe even before then.” Her fingers stroked my cheek. “I thought for sure that you were completely straight, though.” She slowly licked her lips, transfixing me with predatory eyes. “How about it, baby doll? Want Mommy to fuck you?”

She hadn’t called me that since I was a child. This was an aggressive side of my mother that I’d never seen before, and I had to admit that it really turned me on.

“Yes, Mommy,” I replied in my best little-girl voice, “I wanna be fucked.”

My daughters paused in their loving to gape at me as I pretended to be a pubescent girl for Mom’s pleasure. Then they turned back to one another, joining in another hungry kiss. As for my mother… well, she responded with a wicked grin. “Good girl,” she crooned. Reaching down for her dress, she spread it out on the carpet, then parked herself where it lay. “C’mere, sweetie. You’re growing up, ready to learn new things… so I’m going to teach you Mommy’s favorite way to make love.”

Wondering what Mom had in mind, I slid off the couch to the floor. My mother engaged me in a brief but extremely heated tongue kiss, then said, “Okay… sit back so that you’re leaning on your hands, with one knee up.”

I quickly obeyed, and Mom scooted beneath my raised leg, moving toward me until her pelvis was nestled between my thighs. She positioned herself so that we were facing each other, our vulvas about three inches apart. “There,” she murmured. “Now, baby doll… this is how it’s done.”

I opened my mouth to reply but the words died on my lips, a long moan emerging instead as Mom moved into me, pressing her warm, wet sex into mine. Jesus, it felt good. Our womanly heat met and mingled, and my moan was choked into a squeal when my mother began to roll her hips, rubbing our cunts together.

“Fuck me back, honeybunch,” Mom panted.

Grabbing my mother’s leg to brace myself, I began to thrust against her. It was awkward for a moment, then we fell into a mutual rhythm, our bodies rocking in time.

The feeling of Mom’s heated flesh swabbing against mine was exquisite, sending glittering sparks of pleasure cascading behind my eyes each time her sex brushed my clitoris. She was dripping wet, as was I; and our combined fluids flowed freely. This overflow from our crazed cunt-fuck would probably seep through Mom’s dress to stain the carpet, I knew — but right then, neither of us cared.

I glanced up in mid-thrust to see Chelsea and Beth seated together on the couch above Mom and I, both drinking in the sight of our heated coupling. Beth was nestled in big sister’s arms, eyes dreamy with pleasure as Chelsea lightly fingered her babyish slit. Beth turned her head to smile at her older sibling, and their mouths met in a brief but intensely loving kiss. Then they broke apart, turning back to watch me and their grandmother, clearly enjoying the show we were putting on.

My gaze shifted back to Mom. I couldn’t kiss her right then, much as I wanted to, so I pressed my lips to her knee, still hugging her leg to my breasts while our bodies moved together in a lewd dance of forbidden desire. I stared deep into the eyes of this incredible woman who had given me life — and was now offering me herself as a lover — telling her without words how much I wanted this. God, this felt so natural, so inevitable — like destiny. Why had it taken so many years for us to unearth this hidden passion? I spread my thighs further apart, opening my cunt even wider for Mom.

I saw Chelsea nuzzle Beth’s ear, then whisper something to her, and my four-year-old nodded eagerly. Beth got on her hands and knees, facing away from Chelsea on the sofa. Bending down, she presented her bottom to big sister, who was now kneeling closely behind her.

I felt a surge of excitement, knowing what was about to happen. “Look, Mom,” I panted, tilting my head toward the girls.

My mother turned her head just in time to see Chelsea place a tender kiss upon Beth’s left buttock, then the right. Moistening her lips, she then gently parted her baby sister’s cheeks and dipped down to trail her tongue through Beth’s asshole. A happy sigh escaped my youngest girl’s lips, her head resting on the edge of the couch as she watched me and Mom through pleasure-glazed eyes.

Chelsea licked at her sibling’s anus with long slippery strokes, then kissed her there, pressing her mouth into the narrow cleft of Beth’s bottom.

“My God — th-that’s incredible,” my mother gasped, the motion of her hips slowing as she watched Chelsea rim her sister. I knew how she felt. My daughters adored one another so intensely that watching them make love was always a breathtaking experience.

It got to Mom, that was for certain. Because seconds later, she was fucking me even harder, her cunt grinding into mine in a lustful frenzy. I gave as good as I got, my pelvis churning wildly, our pussies making squishing sounds as we forced them together.

“Do you like this, sweetie?” Mom hissed, those big breasts bobbing with each lunge of her lower half. “Does m-my little girl enjoy it when Mommy fucks her this way?”

Damn, I had no idea my mother was this perverted, but I’d take this madness as far as she wanted it to go.

“Yes, Mommy,” I moaned, still pretending to be an adolescent. “It’s s-so nice… I don’t wanna d-do this stuff with stupid boys — only you.” Just then, some part of Mom’s vulva pressed hard against my clitoris — and I gasped, seeing stars. “Oh! Oh GOD, Mommy yes — fuck me, please. Fuck me!” And she did.

As Mom and I pumped against one another, creating this sweet, sticky and utterly delicious friction that felt like no sex I’d ever had before, I glanced up at the couch to see what my girls were doing. A ripple of excitement flowed through me as I saw Chelsea and Beth arranging themselves in a 69 position.

Because of the difference in their heights, my daughters had to lie on their sides in order to lick each other at the same time, so my mother and I were confronted with a gorgeous sight: the pink peach of Beth’s bottom, her little legs spread apart with Chelsea’s face nestling between them, mouth fastened to baby sister’s slit. We could only see the back of Beth’s head framed by Chelsea’s thighs, but from the little sounds of pleasure that my oldest daughter made, we knew that my youngest was giving just as well as she was getting.

Me and Mom continued to fuck while we watched the girls make love. I was bathed in sweat, getting a little winded from this intense workout. The fire that raged in my cunt wouldn’t let me stop, though, or even slow down.

And suddenly I was coming hard, the walls, ceiling and sky crashing down about me as my body screamed in pure ecstasy. Or was I actually screaming myself? Right then, I had no idea. All I could do was buck my hips furiously, grinding my throbbing vulva against Mom’s.

Somewhere in the blinding red haze of pleasure I heard a strangled cry, felt my mother’s body jerk — and then I knew that she was climaxing, too. Her fingernails bit into my thigh as she clutched it, and that drove my orgasm to its final peak. I stiffened, every inch of me gone rigid for an unimaginable few seconds. Then the instant passed, and I went limp, utterly spent.

I fell back, my head hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thump. Somehow I managed to roll to one side, disentangling my legs from Mom’s before letting myself relax. I was damp all over, and could feel the thick shag carpet plastered to my back.

“Wow,” I heard Chelsea say, her voice filled with quiet awe. Turning my head toward her, I allowed my eyes to drift open. She and Beth had broken their lover’s clinch to watch us come. “That was so cool, Mom… will you do that with me?”

“An’ me!” squeaked Beth, giggling with delight.

I roll my eyes. Kids. Where in God’s name do they get the stamina? “Let Mama catch her breath, girls,” I mumbled, “then we’ll play s’more…”

My eyes slowly closed, returning me to that friendly darkness. Then they fluttered open again when Mom climbed on top of me, her body damp and amazingly warm.

“I love you, baby,” she whispered, then kissed me hungrily, exploring my mouth with her tongue. I submitted to her passion, parting my thighs to feel her thick, matted bush pressing into my sticky cunt. Then she broke away, raising herself into a seated position. “Let’s all move into the bedroom, girls,” she cooed, “this floor’s too hard for an old broad like me.”

Somehow Mom and I made it to our feet. Taking the hands of the girls, we padded naked through the house, down the hallway to the master bedroom. Ever since I was a kid, Mom and Dad had shared this enormous bed, the widest I’d ever seen at that age, and it had room for all of us to stretch out comfortably.

Beth was first, toddling over to the bed and quickly clambering onto its springy surface, bouncing gleefully. Chelsea followed, grabbing her baby sister around the waist and flopping onto her back with a giddy little girl in her arms. Mom and I brought up the rear, lying down on either side of the youngsters.

The girls hadn’t come yet, so my mother and I centered our attention on them. Mom was caressing Chelsea, her hands gliding over my ten-year-old’s slender body, teasing her nipples to stiffness. As for me, I began to love little Beth with my mouth; starting with her lips and moving down.

Before long Mom and I were side by side, each with a pretty little girl straddling our faces. And as I licked lovingly at Beth’s silky-smooth slit, I could see Chelsea leaning over from her perch atop Mom’s mouth to kiss her baby sister. I felt Beth hum contentedly, her head tilted back to accept her older sibling’s offering of love.

Soon my mother and I had them both coming, my sweet daughters clutching at one another in the midst of their mutual rapture.

The rest of the afternoon passed in a glorious feast of sex, three generations of women coming together as lovers. No pleasure was forbidden, no part of our bodies unexplored. The wildest bit was when Mom took out this beautiful fake cock from a box in her closet, fastened it about her waist, then gave the girls a demonstration of how it worked, using yours truly as a very willing model. My cunt was still tender, so I had her give me anal instead, first getting Chelsea to moisten my crack with her tongue.

At first my daughters eagerly watched as Mom plowed my butthole, but they got so excited that they simply had to participate. My mother took over as master of ceremonies; first instructing Beth to crawl beneath me and kiss my pussy, then ordering Chelsea to kneel behind her while she fucked me and push one, two, then three fingers into her ample ass, working them in and out until Mom got sandbagged by her third orgasm of the day.

Eventually, we were all worn out and very, very satisfied. So we lay down together to rest, each of us finally drifting off to sleep. There was no real need to discuss what had happened. It seemed to go without saying that Mom was now a part of this; our trio expanded into a foursome.

*****

Three years down the line, our little incest quartet is still active. Dan, sweet lug that he is, hasn’t tumbled to the fact that all the women in his family are sexually intimate. He accepts it as a routine thing for me to take the girls to visit Grandmother every week or so for what we call “Ladies Night” while he’s at home. God, if he only knew what we get up to in Mom’s bed.

Hot and intimate as things are with my daughters, I don’t think of what I have with them as a real romance. Oh, I adore the girls, and the sex we share, but don’t see myself as being in love with them. Chelsea and Beth, though, are lovers in just about every sense of the word. Dan is bemused by the fact that they never seem to squabble, and insist upon sharing a bed every night; and you’ll always find Beth nestled in her big sister’s arms when the whole family is watching TV.

And when my man is away at the oil rig, the girls still cuddle together before the television set. Only then they are naked, touching one another as they kiss again and again. Let me tell you, it’s nearly impossible to stay focused on the program you’re watching when you have two nude little girls making love a couple of feet away. Often as not, I shed my clothes and join them.

I don’t know for certain how long I will continue to be sexually intimate with my children, but Beth and Chelsea have already made it clear to me that they plan to stay together for the rest of their lives. At seven and thirteen years of age, they have decided that they want to marry one day. I’m still thinking about what I can do to help my daughters realize their dream.

So my relationship with the girls is still mainly that of a mother, though one who has sex with her kids as a special treat. What I have with Mom, however, is more complicated. We really do think of ourselves as women in love. In fact, she is as much a wife to me as a parent. As much as I enjoy our orgies with the girls and the hot, hard fucking I get from Dan, the passion I share with my mother leaves me breathless and trembling like a smitten schoolgirl.

It’s a funny old life, but I feel like the luckiest woman in the world. One thing’s for sure — if love equaled wealth, I’d be a millionaire.

*****

This story is a reworking of “Sibling Envy,” written by Joaane, one of my very favorite Leslita authors. I’ve done adaptations of her work more than once, for my personal pleasure… much like an acoustic guitar player might work up a version of a John Coltrane melody to pass the time. In the case of this one, though, I wanted to make it public; and Joaane graciously granted permission for me to do so. Any flaws you unearth here are my responsibility, not hers.

By JetBoy

My husband Dan’s time off was over, and the day had arrived for him to take the chopper back to his job at the oil rig. Chelsea and I accompanied him to the heliport to say goodbye. I’d left Beth at my mother’s place that morning — she would have been too much of a handful.

We joined a group of women who were there for the same reason — to say goodbye to their men. It was easy to recognize the wives and girlfriends that were going to miss their partners the most. They hung onto them longer, unable to tear themselves away.

I hugged my Dan tightly, shared one last deep kiss, then waved as he boarded the chopper. Like always, I was saddened to see him go, but the knowledge that I was once more free to openly love my daughters made my husband’s absence less painful than it might have been. I still adored my man, but the sex I shared with Chelsea and Beth had become like a drug to me.

Even before the helicopter was over the horizon, Chelsea gave me that significant little smile and whispered, “Mama…”

We left the other families waving at men that could no longer see them and found our way back to the heliport building, where we soon located the ladies toilet. It was a simple facility; just two stalls, two sinks, a mirror. No one else was there, so my daughter and I quickly entered the corner stall, locking the door behind us.

I sat down on the toilet, and Chelsea unbuttoned my top, baring my breasts. Then she climbed onto my lap, straddling me. This left her legs spread wide apart as she bent to take my nipple into her mouth. I slipped a hand under my daughter’s skirt and between her thighs, thrilled but hardly surprised to discover that Chelsea had gone without panties that day.

My fingers strayed over my ten-year-old’s vulva, seeking her clit. She whimpered as I lightly stroked the tiny nub, her mouth sucking harder on my nipple. Oh, God, my body was screaming with the need for release. I thrust my free hand between us and began to violently grope at my mound, right through the front of the lace panties I wore.

It all came together soon enough. The pressure against my clitoris, the exquisite pain of having my nipple sucked as hard as this, a handful of my little girl’s sticky sex. My thighs quivered as if I were freezing, and my entire body went into spasm. I had to bite my lower lip to keep myself from screaming as I came.

I was just catching my breath when I heard the lavatory door swing open and two chatting women enter. Chelsea and I froze, then swiftly and silently began to rearrange ourselves. When she and I exited the stall, the two women saw nothing more than a mother and her little girl. We both paused long enough to wash our hands, then left.

We strode across the parking lot, me still a bit unsteady on my feet. As we approached our SUV, Chelsea ran ahead the last few yards and opened the rear door. She fell back onto the seat, then gave me a coquettish look. “Mama…” she purred.

This was a car park, a public car park. Most of the other vehicles had departed while we were in the toilet, but there were still a few scattered about. I glanced around nervously, then looked back at Chelsea. She had raised the denim skirt she wore to expose her bare pussy, legs spread far apart. The sight of that lightly downed slit had my head spinning as I climbed into the back seat to kneel above my daughter, awkwardly reaching behind me to tug the car door shut.

There was a risk of being caught, I suppose, but that only added to the excitement I felt as I dipped my face between Chelsea’s soft thighs and began to love her with my mouth. I licked, kissed and nibbled at my child’s dewy cunt, finally sucking at her clitoris until she was gasping her way through a shuddering orgasm.

When I finally looked up from my work, face shiny wet with my daughter’s juices, I saw through the windows that the car park was now empty. Licking my lips, I wondered if anyone had seen me go down on my ten-year-old.

Chelsea always took her pleasure in stride. Pausing to give me a messy tongue kiss, she clambered up front into the passenger seat, settling in before buckling her seatbelt. Opening the back door, I climbed out and took my place behind the wheel. She gave me a beautiful smile and said, “I love you, Mom.”

I smiled back. “Love you too, honey.” Patting my daughter’s knee, I started the car, put it in gear and set off to my mother’s house, where little Beth was waiting for us.

As we turned into the drive I spied Beth, seated on the front porch swing and holding the hand of my mother Anna.

As we came to a standstill, Beth came running up to me. I lifted her up and hugged her. She wrapped her arms around my neck and rained kisses on me. Chelsea went to hug her Gran. My mom is forty-eight and very fit, with generous breasts and an ass that was still amazingly firm.

Beth was calling “Mama,” even before we got through the door. My mother was the only one besides me and the girls who knew that I still nursed Beth at four, so I had no problem with doing it when she was around.

When we got inside, I sat down in a comfortable armchair, Beth perched in my lap. Unfastening my top and my bra, I cradled my baby girl’s face to my breast. Beth took a nipple into her tiny mouth and began to suckle. God, it felt so good.

“That’s lovely,” Mom said, “I think it’s wonderful that you still allow Beth to nurse.” She paused, smiling thoughtfully. “Perhaps I should have let you keep doing it.”

I felt myself blush slightly. “Maybe you should have. Sometimes… I don’t know, I find myself wishing that I could remember what it was like to be nursed.”

She smiled. “Well, you certainly enjoyed it. For me, it was an amazing experience… very sensuous.”

The warmth I felt seemed to be flowing down to my pussy. “Yeah… I feel the same way.” God, I was on fire. If Mom hadn’t been there, I would have been masturbating. Actually, I would have been making love to my precious girls. Chelsea was staring at me while I fed her baby sister, a certain gleam in her eyes. She knew how aroused I was.

Mom shook her head. “It’s a shame that you didn’t breastfeed Chelsea.”

She knew very well why I had opted for the bottle in Chelsea’s case — because my doctor had recommended formula and I’d foolishly listened to him. It was one of those digs that Mom never tired of aiming at me, though.

Feeling mischievous, I decided to shock her. “Oh, these days, she and I are making up for lost time,” I said, almost casually.

Her eyes widened. “You mean… you nurse Chelsea now?”

I nodded very slowly, enjoying the effect on her. Mom looked at Chelsea with her mouth slightly open. Chelsea sat on the edge of the other armchair, her knees pressed together.

“Is it nice?” Mom asked her. “Do you like to nurse from Mama?”

Chelsea blushed and nodded.

“It’s a beautiful thing,” I added, “and the nicest bonding experience you could imagine.”

Mom studied Beth, her hungry mouth at my nipple; then raised her eyes to meet mine. “You know… I used to get very aroused while I suckled you. Do you ever feel that way?”

How do you respond when your mother says something like that? In fact, I said nothing, but my eyes told the truth of it.

“How does it feel when you and Chelsea… bond?” Mom softly asked. “Does it excite you?”

I gazed deep into Mom’s eyes, feeling a crazy urge to tell her everything. I knew that she’d had women lovers since she and Dad divorced. In fact, her bisexuality was one of the bones of contention that finally drove them apart. As far as she knew, though, I was completely straight. Would my mother be repulsed by the things I do with my girls?

There was a growing heat between my thighs as Beth got into her stride, but then she drew away. “Done, Mama,” she cooed.

I sat her down beside me, then glanced up at Chelsea, who stared at me pleadingly.

I couldn’t resist. Something inside made me want my mother to see this for herself.

I smiled at Chelsea, cupping a breast. “Do you want a turn, honey?”

“Yes!” squeaked my delighted ten-year-old.

I thought she would simply come over, clamber into my lap and fasten her mouth to a nipple. Instead, Chelsea started taking her clothes off!

Mom’s mouth was hanging open as my daughter shrugged out of her blouse and skirt, then slipped off her little pink panties. She stood naked before us for a moment before padding over to me.

“You too, Mama,” she insisted, tugging gently at my skirt.

I guess I should have expected that. After all, every time I suckle Chelsea, we are both nude. It’s what she’s used to. But did I have the nerve to do this in front of my mother?

I stole a glance at Mom. She was still shocked, but I caught a glimpse of something in her eyes; something that looked a hell of a lot like… excitement.

I slowly stood, slipped out of my already open blouse and bra, then stepped out of my shoes before unfastening my skirt, letting it drop.

That left my panties. I’d barely grasped the waistband when Chelsea said, “Let me, Mama.” And she knelt before me, tugging my sodden knickers down to my ankles, then slipping them from my feet and placing them on top of her own clothes.

I sat back in the armchair, and Chelsea crawled into my lap. She took my right nipple between her lips and commenced to suckle. I couldn’t help but moan, a shiver of delight surging through me at the touch of my child’s sweet mouth. Her hand was on my other breast, fondling it.

Perhaps without even knowing, Mom was cupping her own breast, lost in awe at the sight of Chelsea and I, entwined in a heated embrace and completely naked. Could she tell that we were making love? If so, she didn’t seem upset about it.

Then when my ten-year-old raised her face from my breast, her lips seeking mine in a passionate kiss… well, any idiot could see what the nature of my relationship with Chelsea really was. Throwing caution to the winds, I returned her kiss, fucking her mouth with my tongue while allowing a hand to drift down to caress her bottom.

Mom stared at us, enthralled. She moistened her lips, then parted them to speak — but nothing came out. She was breathing heavily, nearly trembling with excitement.

Finally she managed to murmur, “I c-can’t believe this is happening… but it’s such a lovely sight. You two have s-something really special.” She sighed. “So beautiful… I admit it, I’m — I’m envious.”

That’s when I got a really wild idea — and it thrilled me so intensely that I knew I had to try to make it happen.

Gently breaking my kiss with Chelsea, I smiled at my little girl. “Honey,” I cooed, “would you like for your grandmother to nurse you for awhile?”

“Uh-huh!” Chelsea replied, nodding vigorously as Mom gasped in surprise.

I knew my daughter would like the idea. Only the week before, after Mom had dropped by, she’d turned to me and said, “Grandma’s titties look so soft and big… I wish I could see them.”

“Only see?” I had teased her.

Chelsea blushed furiously, but shyly confessed, “Um, and other stuff, too.”

Now we were both watching Mom, waiting for her response. Her eyes met mine. “Should I?” she asked, almost timidly.

“If you want to, why not?” I said. “Chelsea likes the idea.”

Mom smiled bashfully at her granddaughter. “Do you really want to do this, baby?”

Chelsea smiled broadly. “Yes, Grandma!” she cried.

Slipping out of her shoes, Mom rose to her feet, unzipped her blue dress and let it fall, then stepped free of the garment. She stood before us in an elegant black bra and matching panties.

“Love the underwear, Mom,” I purred. “Very sexy.”

My mother gave me a warm look that I felt right down to my toes. “I do like feeling sexy,” she murmured. Sitting down on the sofa, Mom undid the bra, baring her still beautiful breasts, then glanced at us. “I’m ready.”

Sliding off my lap, Chelsea padded over to her grandmother and clambered onto the sofa, kneeling beside her. She took hold of Mom’s creamy breast and locked onto the large, erect nipple.

“Oh, honey… that feels lovely,” Mom moaned, sinking into the sofa as she cradled my ten-year-old’s head to her breasts.

Chelsea suckled happily at Anna’s nipple as she straddled her, rubbing the cleft of her sex against Mom’s thigh. I watched in awe as my daughter placed her hand on her grandmother’s free breast to fondle it, brushing the nipple to tautness. Then that hand began inching downward, sliding over Mom’s belly. I gaped. Was Chelsea really going to…?

She was. Mom gave out a deep, impassioned moan and spread her legs wide, just in time for Chelsea’s hand to cup the front of her black panties, pressing her fingers into Grandma’s sheathed cunt.

My baby rubbed at her grandmother’s pussy for a little while, her mouth still fastened to the engorged nipple; then suddenly she jumped from Mom’s lap and knelt before her. Grasping the waistband of those black panties, Chelsea slipped them down and off, my dazed mother lifting her ass to assist.

Mom’s minge was a mass of unkempt hair, curly and dense. Chelsea gazed hungrily at the thick pubes, then buried her face in them, seeking out her cunt with a hungry mouth. I smiled, knowing that my mother was in for a treat.

“My God… my God… my God…” my mother panted, opening her thighs even wider for her ten-year-old granddaughter. Chelsea was well versed in the art of going down on a woman by then, and Mom was getting a full demonstration of her oral skills. Chelsea began to suck at my mother’s rather large clit, then positioned her fingers at the entrance to Anna’s fleshy vagina before sliding them in with a smooth stroke.

Beth was hugging me now, enthralled by the incestuous lesbian scene unfolding before her. I reached down to clutch the hem of her yellow frock and tugged it over her head, then pulled her underpants off. Now, except for Beth’s tiny socks, we were all naked.

I lifted Beth up and placed her on my lap, then began to fondle my child, running both hands all over her soft, sweet body. She tilted her face up to mine, and we kissed hungrily.

“Oh, my g-goodness,” Mom gasped. “B-Beth, too?”

My baby daughter and I broke apart, and we both smiled at my mother. “That’s right… we’re all lovers now,” I purred, gazing deep into her disbelieving eyes.

Chelsea had worked her remaining fingers into Mom’s pussy and was eagerly fisting her, plunging in and out of my mother’s gaping hole. Hugging Beth with one arm, I was fingering myself urgently with my left hand and stroking my little girl’s soft petals with the right while I watched my mother being fucked, all the while wondering if this was a dream that I’d be waking from any minute now.

Chelsea raised herself to take Mom’s nipple into her mouth again, her lips and chin glistening with pussy juices. She continued to move her hand in and out of her grandmother’s cunt, and Anna thrust her hips frantically, riding Chelsea’s fist.

She repeated the same word over and over again, ”Fuck, fuck, fuck… fuck!” as her pleasure grew and grew, up to and through her wrenching climax. A scream broke from my mother’s throat as she shook in orgasm, her thighs and belly quivering with each jolt of ecstasy.

As I fondled Beth, my fingers fiddling between her thighs, she eagerly watched Mom and Chelsea, studying their lovemaking with wide eyes. They were getting so wild together that my baby girl surely would have been terrified, if she wasn’t already familiar with the sight of a woman in the throes of sexual rapture.

Finally Mom slumped back into the soft embrace of the couch, eyes glazed, her face and body flushed a lovely pink. Nibbling her lower lip in concentration, Chelsea carefully extracted her hand from her grandmother’s vagina with a slurping sound, then began to lick at her sticky knuckles.

By JetBoy

Scooping Beth into my arms, I carried her into my room, gently depositing her on the bed. She hugged herself with delight, gazing up at me as I knelt before her, intoxicated by the bare beauty of my little girl. So precious and virginal; yet at the age of four she was already the sexual partner of her big sister, and had been innocently pleasured by Mama.

Now I was going to lie between Beth’s legs and lick her bare slit, the way I had done many times before. But this time, I would not stop until she came.

“C’n we play kissy-lick, Mama?” Beth burbled, propped up on her elbows and smiling at me.

“Kissy-lick? Do you play that with Chelsea?”

“Mmm-hmm!” she affirmed, nodding vigorously.

I tilted my head, giving my baby a thoughtful look. “Maybe we can, honey — but you have to tell Mama how to play.”

Beth giggled, “It’s easy! Chelly kissy-licks my bunny… an’ I kissy-lick her bunny!”

“Ah, I see,” I nod. “That sounds like a lovely game, Bethy. I’ll play with you.”

“Yayyyyy!” she cheered, bouncing excitedly, clapping with delight.

“May I kissy-lick you first?” I entreat her, pressing clasped hands to my heart.

“Okay.” And with that she lay back, opening her legs to receive me, unashamedly exposing the pink crease of her sex. I licked my lips, feeling the storm beginning to mass inside.

“Let’s raise your knees, baby,” I whispered as I positioned my little girl the way I wanted her, slowly moving Beth’s thighs wider apart to reveal her slightly darker anal cleft. Has Chelsea rimmed her baby sister yet? I wondered, selfishly hoping that my tongue would be the first to explore that sweet rosebud.

Lowering myself to the bed, I inhaled deeply, breathing in the heady perfume of Beth’s vagina. I moistened my lips, then placed a feather-light kiss upon the delicate flower.

Beth gave a contented sigh. Growing bolder, I extended my tongue to take a long, slow lick, bathing my daughter’s vulva from the bottom to the top. A shiver of pleasure rippled through Beth’s babyish body, and I pressed further between her legs, hungry for more, savoring the child’s rich scent as I went down on her.

My tongue trailed lower to probe at her anus, gliding over the tiny opening as Beth squealed in delighted surprise. Parting her cheeks, I pressed deeper to adorn her hole with open-mouthed French kisses, smitten by the unimaginable softness of Beth’s bottom.

Then I was lying before her, gently opening the vaginal slit with both thumbs to reveal moist, pink flesh inside. Tilting my head slightly, I kissed her cunt as if it was a tiny mouth, allowing the tip of the tongue to enter my little girl’s body and sliding it in and out, gently fucking her. She was making wordless happy sounds, parting her legs even further for me.

Time seemed to cease as I lost myself in pleasuring Beth, greedily exploring every inch of her sex. Her honey flowed for me, rich and delicious, though less than her big sister could produce. I eagerly drank it down, mouth fastened to the baby-soft vagina of my beautiful little girl. This was clearly the most reckless, dangerous thing I’d ever done in my life, and it left me glowing like the sun, overwhelmed with the kind of joy that only an adoring mother can know.

Finally I sought out her barely-there clitoris, covered it with my lips and began to suckle. It occurred to me that our roles were momentarily reversed; that I was now nursing from my baby, that she was providing her Mama with nourishment. I smiled at that thought — or would have, except that my mouth was otherwise occupied. Beth was mewling with delight, her little hands tangling in my hair.

Then she was wriggling frantically beneath me, emitting a soft cry that quickly rose to a tiny squeak.

The next thing I knew, Beth was squeezing her thighs together, pushing clumsily at my head. “Tickles, Mama!” she gasped.

Well. It hadn’t been a world-beater of an orgasm, but I’d made my daughter come.

I laid down next to Beth, enfolding her in my arms. “I love you, baby,” I whispered, our noses lightly touching.

“Love you, Mama,” she sighed, an expression of perfect bliss on that angelic face as her eyes drifted shut. For a moment it seemed as if she was dozing off, but suddenly Beth sat up, newly animated. “Now me!” she squealed. Getting on all fours, she crawled to the foot of the bed, then sat down, gazing at me expectantly as she softly chanted, “Kissy-lick, kissy-lick…”

I’ve had my share of seductions, but this was easily the most charming one. I rolled onto my back, parting my thighs, heart racing as I prepared to let my four-year-old moppet bring me off with her mouth.

Tilting her head slightly, Beth stared at my sex. “Pretty bunny,” she whispered, reaching out to touch me. I bit my lip, choking back an overwhelming urge to cry out loud as her curious fingertips traced the sticky opening.

With a giggle, my child lay down on her tummy, her face a couple of inches or so from my vulva. Every inch of my body throbbed with anticipation as I remained motionless, waiting for my deepest, most forbidden fantasy to come true.

She moved closer… and I whimpered as Beth’s lips pressed deep into the warm, moist flesh of Mama’s cunt in a tender kiss. Then she kissed me again. Again.

“Oh, sweetie,” I gasped, “that feels so good.”

I felt her tongue emerge to lick, gliding over my vaginal opening. A wave of pure joy suffused me from head to toe, almost as if I were receiving a blessing from God. A strange thought to have while committing an act that most would call an unforgivable sin. But I felt nothing like a sinner at that instant. Instead, I was bathed in love, swimming in it.

Beth was licking me with steady strokes, like our cat when she washed herself. There was nothing tentative in her movements; my daughter was very much into what she was doing. Chelsea had not only shown her baby sister how to eat pussy, she’d taught her to love it.

As if she could read my thoughts, Beth chose that moment to lift her face from the juncture of my thighs to smile at me, licking her lips and burbling, “Yummy yum!” Then, with a giggle, she buried her nose in my pubes once more.

By this time the beating of my heart seemed to echo through me like cannon fire, and I burned for the oblivion of orgasm. Beth’s tongue felt wonderful, but I was so worked up that I had to come, was desperate for her to finish me off.

“B-Bethy,” I stammered, placing a finger just above my clitoris, “Mama needs you to l-l-lick her right here–“

She seemed to already sense what I needed. Before I could even finish getting the words out, my daughter had trailed her tongue up through my opening one last time, then sucked the inflamed tip of my clit between her lips.

The last thought I had before the world came crashing down was: Holy mother of God… I guess Chelsea really did teach Beth everything about eating pussy.

My body seemed to be tugged in every direction as I came in my four-year-old’s face. It was all I could do not to scream. The image of Beth’s tiny mouth fastened to my pussy was seared into my mind like a brand; the baby girl, drinking from her mama.

Panting furiously, I pressed my head back into the pillow, fingernails biting into my palms while this… this thunderclap of pleasure rolled and reverberated inside my quivering frame. And through it all, my wonderful child continued to lick me.

Finally, unable to stand any more, I reached down to grasp my daughter’s shoulder with a trembling hand. “Th-that’s enough, Bethy… mmm, Mama’s finished.”

Spent, I lay motionless but for my heaving chest, my upper half bathed in a thin patina of sweat. After a few heartbeats, my eyes fluttered open, only to be confronted with the loveliest sight imaginable: Beth’s cherubic face, resting on my thigh. My little girl gazed at me in bashful adoration, her spun-gold hair delightfully tousled. “Love you, Mama,” she cooed.

“Oh, baby,” I whispered, suddenly on the verge of joyous tears, “I love you too. My precious angel.”

I reached for her and she crawled up to where I lay, nestling comfortably into my arms. The lower half of Beth’s face was sticky with my juices, and I drew close, our noses touching as I traced her lips with the tip of the tongue, tasting the tart essence of sex. Giggling, my daughter joined in this new game, and we joined in licking one another’s mouths and chins until it somehow became a long, leisurely lover’s kiss.

As we broke apart, I placed one soft peck on her button nose before we settled down to rest. Beth and I lay together quietly, and I soon felt the steady cadence of her breath against my neck as she fell into slumber.

Holding my baby close, I mulled upon what I’d just done to her… and what I’d had her do to me. Was I a monster; a sick, twisted woman? At that moment, I felt like anything but. All it took was a glance at Beth’s peaceful face to dispel the notion that I’d been wrong to make love with my little girl. Somehow I knew that this beautiful thing we had shared would only make our bond all the stronger. Since I’d become lovers with Chelsea, there had been a newfound warmth, a sweetness between my oldest daughter and myself — something special that hadn’t been there before. And now my Beth and I would have that too.

Slowly, slowly I sank into the tranquil haze of sleep, still hugging Beth to me.

*****

An hour and a half later, when Chelsea arrived home from school, she set down her book bag and kicked off her shoes, then wandered through the house looking for Beth and I. Through the living room, the kitchen, and the laundry room she went, pausing to peer out onto the backyard patio before bounding upstairs.

Down the hallway she padded in her stocking feet, peeking through each doorway until she reached my room at the end… and there she found her mother and baby sister, bare naked and curled up together on the bed, the room still fragrant with the scent of pussy. Smiling hugely, she reached for the top button of her blouse…

I awoke to find my ten-year-old sitting cross-legged on the bed beside me, completely nude.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Bethy,” she grinned. “Looks like someone’s been havin’ a good time.”

“Chelly!” cried Beth, scrambling to her feet and excitedly jumping up and down on the bed a couple of times before leaping over me to throw both arms around her big sister.

I watched my daughters hug, feeling a delicious prickle of arousal when Chelsea bent down to kiss Beth, circling her sister’s mouth with a playful tongue.

“Mmmm,” she purred, drawing away to smile down at Beth. “Your lips taste good…”

“Me an’ Mama played kissy-lick!” my baby giggled. “She’s yummy!”

I sat up, then moved to wrap an arm around each of my girls. “Hey, hon,” I said to Chelsea, giving her a sleepy smile. “Got one of those kisses for me?”

“Sure,” she sighed, and I closed my eyes, awaiting the touch of her mouth.

So soft, so sweet. Chelsea’s tongue engaged mine, our lips sliding moistly together as her hand moved to cover my breast. I sighed contentedly. If this wasn’t heaven on earth, it would do for now.

We gently broke apart after a long, languid kiss… then I turned to Beth. “Honey,” I told my youngest, “I think your big sister needs to be kissy-licked now.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” enthused Beth, her head bobbing in agreement.

She and I quickly positioned a delighted Chelsea on her back with her thighs wide apart. “You kiss her,” I directed Beth, “and I’ll lick.”

“‘Kay, Mama,” my baby cooed, crawling onto the bed to flop down beside her sister. Chelsea wrapped her arms around Beth, and their mouths met.

Now I was where I loved to be, lying between my preteen daughter’s legs, tracing the vaginal cleft with a finger as I breathed deeply of her sex, that thick, heady perfume of desire. Moistening my lips, I moved in to take that first taste.

It was a divine experience, sharing my oldest girl with her baby sister. As I went down on Chelsea, my eyes were drawn to my darling daughters as they kissed passionately, hungrily. Beth’s little hands were fondling her sister’s barely-there breasts.

Then my baby girl was nursing from Chelsea’s nipples, and big sister’s arms were tenderly wrapped around Beth, her nose buried in my littlest one’s hair. Me? I continued to lick and kiss that juicy vulva, my ten-year-old’s fluids coating my lips.

When she came, the sound of her cries were like a benediction. I wouldn’t stop eating Chelsea’s pussy, though, not until I’d carried her through a second orgasm — one that had her heels drumming frantically against the bed. She accidentally kicked me in the side at one point, leaving an oddly shaped bruise that I later told Dan I’d gotten by bumping against a doorknob.

Spent and dazed, Chelsea lay limply amidst the rumpled sheets while I drew Beth into my arms for a kiss, giving my four-year-old a taste of her big sister’s sex. What an unalloyed thrill it was, feeling my baby humming with pleasure as her childish mouth nibbled at mine, sampling and loving the flavor of cunt.

We three lay together for a long while, basking in the warmth of the day, serenaded by the distant noises of playing children that issued through the open window. No words were needed. I lay entangled with Chelsea and Beth, lost in contented thought.

Mostly, I marveled at the path I’d chosen, the strange detour from the straight and narrow that had led me to take my own children as lovers. And despite the numerous taboos I’d brazenly flouted in the process, I knew no shame or guilt. My kids were blissfully happy, and that was good enough for me.

Continue on to Chapter 5