Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

At precisely 3:15 on Thursday, Tina came into the school office. I was ready for her. I’d told Mrs. Simmons I was taking the girl to the university library to help her with a special research project. She’d frowned, as expected, obviously thinking a registrar’s job description did not include assisting students with research — especially not pretty girls with short skirts.

And Tina was in a short skirt that day. Very short, probably well above the regulation length. I certainly didn’t mind, though.

As we got in my car, I looked down at her legs. She was wearing long black socks that came up over her knees, and shiny silver low-heeled shoes. Her little black skater skirt left her thighs bare. On top, she was wearing a gold sweater, the sleeves pushed up to her elbows.

Tina saw that I was looking at her legs, and smiled at me.

I blushed, embarrassed to be caught ogling one of our students that way, but I smiled back.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Um, well, I told that awful Mrs. Simmons I was taking you to the university library for a research project you were doing.”

Tina giggled as we pulled out of the parking lot.

“But I thought maybe we would go to the park instead. It’s a nice day and we can just walk for a bit, maybe around the lake, and talk. Okay?”

“That sounds nice,” she said.

“Oh, I should have asked you before. How much time do we have? Do you need to be anywhere soon?”

“Uh-uh, nowhere at all. We have all the time you want.”

I glanced over at her. She smiled prettily at me, and then looked at my body.

In preparation for our after-school meeting that day, I had dressed carefully in the morning. I wondered if maybe Tina had done the same, but then reminded myself that she always looked very attractive, like a model in a store window.

I was wearing a sleeveless white silk blouse over a lacy white bra from Victoria’s Secret that pushed up my breasts and gave me plenty of cleavage. As we’d walked out to the car, I had casually opened two extra buttons on the blouse, leaving it deeply slashed. I wore a pleated red skirt that fell a few inches above my knees, and sheer black nylons along with red heels, quite a bit higher than I usually wore to work.

Mrs. Simmons had, of course, given me a scathing look of disapproval as I came into the office that morning, but I didn’t care. And I noticed that when I walked through the halls that day, several of the boys were looking at me with much more interest than they usually would, and even some of the girls too. It made me think maybe I should dress provocatively like that a little more often.

I turned the corner that led into the city park and said, “I have to be home around 5:00 or so, to fix dinner for my daughter, but that gives us time for a nice long talk.”

“How old is your daughter?” Tina asked.

“She’s 8.”

“Oh. Is she the one you were talking about on the phone yesterday?”

I gulped as I pulled into a parking space. How loud had I been on the phone with Jae? How much had Tina really heard?

“Uh, well,” my cheeks were burning. “Let’s walk for a bit and we can talk about… whatever you want.”

She smiled at me. “Okay.”

We started up the path toward the lake. I was silent, but my mind was racing.

Had Tina heard enough to realize I was having sex with my 8-year-old daughter? And if she had, was she truly not shocked or disgusted by the idea, but excited by it, as she’d said? Could that really be possible?

“Are you a lesbian, Ms. Driscoll?”

“Well, um,” I cleared my throat. “Why don’t you call me Shelly — not at school, I mean, but when we’re, you know, alone together.”

“Okay. And you can call me Tina,” she giggled.

I smiled at her. I liked this girl’s sense of humor.

“So, anyway, to answer your question, I’ve never been married. When I was in high school, I dated a few boys, and I slept with one of them, and that’s when I got pregnant. I gave birth to my daughter, Kerie, the summer after I graduated.”

We continued walking. Tina was quiet, just listening.

“I’ve had sex with only two men since then, and only a couple of times. To be honest, I didn’t care for it very much. I did have one night with a woman, a while back, but that’s been my only real lesbian experience so far. Well, unless you count…”

“Your daughter?” she asked.

“Yes,” I said, in a hushed voice, “my daughter.”

We came to a secluded bench looking out over the lake. I suggested we stop there for a while.

We sat for a few minutes without speaking. I wondered what Tina was thinking about. She crossed her legs and I stared openly at her smooth thighs.

Finally, she turned to me and said, “Thank you, Ms. Driscoll — I mean, Shelly, for, I guess, for trusting me so much. That makes me feel really good. Like you respect me.”

“I do respect you, Tina. You’re a very bright girl, and you seem to be sort of, mature, about certain matters.”

She smiled. “Well, I, I try to be open-minded. About just about everything.” She swung her lower leg invitingly in front of me.

“So, apparently you heard enough, yesterday, to… to understand that I was talking about, um, about doing certain things with my daughter?”

“Uh-huh. Who were you talking to?”

That’s none of your business, I thought at first, but then I reasoned, in for a penny, in for a pound, and answered, “I was talking to my older sister, Jae. She’s a lesbian.”

“Oh. But you still never told me — are you a lesbian too?”

“Hm, well, I suppose I am. I never really thought of myself that way. But now it seems that the real me is coming out, so to speak.” I turned to her. “How about you? Are you a lesbian?”

“I don’t know,” she frowned. “I don’t really like boys, and I think girls are really pretty and soft. But I’ve never, you know, I’ve never exactly done anything with anyone yet, so I guess I’m not sure.”

“Do you masturbate?” I asked.

Tina’s eyes went wide. She blushed, but nodded, “Yeah, I, I do, I have.” The girl swallowed hard. She seemed embarrassed by the admission.

I patted her knee. “It’s perfectly normal. Most women do, and most high school girls too, probably.”

“I guess.”

“But when you masturbate,” I continued, “what do you fantasize about?”

She dropped her eyes for a moment, nervously twisting her feet. Then she said, in a quiet voice, “Well, usually about girls, you know, about kissing them and stuff.”

“Okay.”

Tina looked up again, placing a hand on my bare arm. “But you know what? Last night when I, when I played with myself, I was thinking about you.”

“Wow, that’s, I find that very flattering, Tina. I mean it. For a beautiful young girl like you to be, well, perhaps to be attracted to someone like me is, I don’t know, but it makes me feel good.” I smiled at her.

“I think you’re very attractive, Ms., um, Shelly. And not just because you’re so pretty, but also because you’re so smart and confident. And even more, because you seem to be, like, totally uninhibited about, you know, exploring your sexual desires. That makes me really attracted to you.”

I was getting very excited. I looked quickly around. There was no one nearby who might see us. I licked my lips. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

She ducked her head, coyly, and said, “I’d like that.”

I shifted closer to her on the bench, until our knees were touching. I put my arm around her shoulder, my hand on the back of her neck. I could smell her flowery perfume. I looked into her big blue eyes, and down at her soft lips.

I drew her to me and we kissed.

The feel of her lips on mine was wonderfully warm, tender, fresh and yielding. I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her close, kissing her a second time.

She placed her hand on my arm. Then I heard her sigh as she inclined her head slightly and parted her lips for me.

I was gentle with the girl, kissing her softly, but fluttering my tongue inside her mouth, teasing. Finally I pulled away, gazing at her.

Tina was looking at my mouth. “Wow,” she said, “that was just… just like I always imagined it would be.”

“Have you ever kissed a woman before? Or a girl?”

“No, I mean, not except my mom, or my aunt. And not like that!” she laughed.

We gazed into one another’s eyes for a moment, our hands gently caressing shoulders and necks. I badly wanted to kiss her again — and do a lot more as well.

“When you…” she hesitated, then went on, “when you are, um, with your daughter, do you kiss her like that?”

“Well, uh, yes, something like that. We… we like kissing. Along with other things.”

“What kinds of things?” Tina cocked her head a little, smiling, trying to draw me out, wanting to hear all the nasty details about my illicit affair with my 8-year-old daughter.

And I wanted to tell her, too. I wanted to fill this girl’s head with all sorts of forbidden images, give her plenty of material for her nighttime masturbatory fantasies.

“Do you really want to know?” I asked, teasing.

“Yes!” She leaned in and kissed me quickly on the mouth. “I do, tell me.”

“Okay.” I settled back on the bench, ready to tell her everything.

Before I could start, Tina lifted one of her legs over my knee. She leaned back, looking at me with hooded eyes.

For a supposedly innocent girl, I thought, she is quite the seductress.

I put my hand on her bare thigh, gently caressing her smooth skin. I looked at her and thought, here I am, a 26-year-old woman, kissing and fondling a 15-year-old girl in the city park. And soon I will go home and have sex with my daughter. How my life has changed!

Then I began to tell her the story.

“Well, it started just recently, only a few weeks ago. Before then, we had, I guess, pretty much your typical mother-daughter relationship. No, that’s not right, not exactly typical, because she sleeps in the same bed with me. She always has. Ever since she was little, we’ve slept naked together.”

“Wow,” breathed Tina.

“And we, we not only slept together, but we would play little games in bed, like she would get on top of me, and kind of slide her little body around on mine.”

“I wish we were someplace private, so I could touch myself.” The young brunette was squirming on the bench, arching her back, hands gripping her upper thighs. It was clear that the small amount I had told her was already making her very aroused.

I looked at my watch. It was nearly 4:15. We didn’t have that much longer.

“Tina, I… we only have about another half hour. Less, actually, since I have to drop you off before I go home. We can talk a little more now, although maybe we should get up and walk, so it won’t look quite so scandalous if someone should come along.”

I glanced around nervously. Tina giggled.

“But I really do want to tell you more,” I said. “I want to tell you everything, anything at all that you want to know.”

Her eyes widened.

“And, as you just said, I’d also like to find someplace, well, private, so I can kiss you again, and…”

“And what?”

“And whatever else you might like.” I squeezed her thigh, then slowly slid my fingers up higher, under her skater skirt.

I could feel her trembling beneath me, but she tried to maintain her composure and keep up a flirtatious attitude. “Ooh, that sounds dangerous,” Tina smiled, licking her lips lasciviously.

“You are adorable,” I told her. “But come on, let’s walk some more.”

We got up and strolled side by side around the lake.

“When I asked you earlier what you fantasize about when you masturbate,” I said, “I was trying to see if you sometimes had fantasies about sex with boys or men, or if it was only with women, or, I don’t know, maybe both at the same time.”

“No, I, it’s only about girls. Or women. It always has been. I’ve seen a lot of — um, I mean, I have a computer in my room, and I go online and find videos of girls, you know, kissing and making love and stuff. That gets me really hot. Then I get in bed and play with myself.”

“But you said you’re still not sure if you’re a lesbian.”

She laughed. “Well, I guess you could say all the evidence points in that direction. But I don’t feel at all like, I mean, like the kind of lesbian who has to cut her hair short and wear boy clothes and things like that.”

“I suppose there are different kinds of lesbians,” I told her.

“Yeah. I mean, look at you. You’re hot. You look like a sexy woman, not, like, butch at all.”

I took her by the hand, knitting our fingers. “I’m so glad you think I’m sexy. It’s not easy for me to stay in shape, and I always think I don’t look as good as I should. My sister, though, she looks amazing. I wish I had her body.”

Tina squeezed my hand. “Shelly, I think you’re really pretty. And I love your body. Well, as much as I’ve seen of it so far.” She leaned over and playfully plucked at the front of my blouse, pulling it out so she could look inside at my breasts.

I pushed her away, laughing. “Stop that! Do you want us to get arrested or something?”

She giggled and took my arm.

We were almost back to the car.

“So, um, today is Thursday,” I said. “If you want, we can spend a little more time together after school tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

“But, you know, as I think about it, that’s not a very good idea. I shouldn’t take off early two days in a row, especially not with the same student. That might look suspicious.”

“Yes, we must keep up pretenses,” she said with mocking seriousness.

I patted her arm with my hand. “Silly.”

We reached the car and I opened the passenger door for her. As she lowered herself into the seat, she deliberately stretched her long legs apart, giving me a flash of black panties. I gave her a wink then closed the door.

After I got in, I said, “Do you want me to drop you back at the school? Or can I take you home?”

“Which way do you live?” she asked.

“Um, in the Cherrywood section, off Parker Boulevard.”

“Oh, well, then I’m kind of on the way. Our house is at Broad Street and 12th. Do you know where that is?”

“Sure,” I said, as I pulled out of the parking lot.

We drove a while, and then I asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, I have a little sister, Becky. She’s 10, almost 11, blonde and really cute. You’d like her.” She reached over and squeezed my thigh, grinning.

“Tina! What do you think I am, a pedophile?”

“Well, you like me, don’t you? And I’m underage.”

“Yes, but…”

“No, it’s okay, I’m only teasing, Shelly. Don’t get upset.”

Of course, I could hardly deny that I was attracted to very young girls, at least if my relationship with my daughter was any indication. Then there were also my feelings about Rose’s darling daughter, Emily, and even little Melissa. So, yes, I suppose the label would apply, ugly as it might be.

“Turn at the next corner,” said Tina. “Our house is the third one down, on the right.”

It was a three-story Victorian, in the Queen Anne style, beautifully restored. I was impressed.

“Wow, what a lovely home.”

“Thanks. Do you want to come in and meet my mom?”

I looked at my watch. I did have the time, but I wasn’t sure if I should.

Tina made up my mind for me.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing my hand and tugging persuasively, “she’ll like you.”

So, we got out of the car and I followed her up the steps and into the house.

Continue on to Chapter 6