Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

The Story Thus Far

Chapter 1: In which Sarah and Frankie peruse some rather risqué entertainment, then get intimately acquainted with a pair of soiled undies. Who says staying at home on weekends is boring?

Chapter 2: In which Kerry comes home, the Panty Fairy pays a visit, Sarah confides in her sister Judy, Kerry catches a whiff of pussy on Mummy’s fingers, and plans are made to let Kerry watch Sarah and Frankie have sex. Goodness me!

Chapter 3: In which Sarah and Kerry’s pussy-smelling game escalates, Sarah has a quick diddle in the school carpark, and Sarah and Frankie put their unorthodox sex education lesson into motion. Oh, and a traumatised teddy bear called Mr. Ruffles.

Chapter 4: In which smelling becomes tasting, and a visit to the bird sanctuary turns into an afternoon of naughty panty-modeling fun with Sarah, Judy and five-year-old Izzy. Bloody hell, now sister and niece are in on the act!

Chapter 5: In which poor Mr Ruffles suffers more teddy abuse, Sarah and Kerry’s kinky game goes one step further, and Judy pops round for coffee with little Izzy. A shared lollipop leads to more sharing. Appalling!

Chapter 6: In which Frankie and Sarah tiptoe into Kerry’s bedroom while she’s asleep, and an innocent picnic for the children turns into an afternoon of amateur taboo photography. Snap snap snap!

by BlueJean

1

Frankie spent most of Sunday in self-imposed exile in our bedroom, editing the footage Judy and I had taken of Kerry and Izzy the day before. I think it would’ve taken her half the time if she hadn’t done most of the work with a hand down her knickers.

The resulting video was twenty-three minutes long, and Frankie put some nice fade-ins/fade-outs on each scene to make the whole thing seem less sporadic. It wasn’t exactly BAFTA material, but we were all rather pleased with the results.

That night Frankie and I went to bed early and frigged ourselves silly watching it. It’s still our go-to wank material when we’re feeling especially filthy. We sent Judy a copy, with strict instructions not to upload it to Facebook by accident.

2

When Monday morning came round again I was absolutely knackered, counting my blessings that I worked from home. Once I’d dropped Kerry off at school, I had every intention of going back to bed for a couple of hours.

Kerry, of course, was bouncing with restless energy, and very much wanted to play dirty games at the breakfast table. She was becoming quite the sexual deviant, and I wondered how that might manifest itself in her teenage years. I didn’t dwell on it, though – you see, by that point I’d already begun to close my mind to the potential consequences of what we were doing with the children. They were happy, and that was enough to ease my nagging conscience.

“Are you going to rub your panties on my face again, Mummy?” Kerry said as I sat opposite her drinking my coffee.

I shook my head, chuckling at her candidness. “Uh-uh.”

“Why not? I like how they smell. How about just letting me taste your fingers, then?”

“If you want to keep doing all that stuff, we should probably do it after school. Then we’ll have more time to enjoy ourselves.”

Judging from her wide grin, Kerry thought that was a great idea. “Look under the table,” she said.

When I peered beneath the table, Kerry had hiked her gingham dress up, pulled her knickers to one side, and was pumping the smooth plastic end of her breakfast spoon in and out of her pussy.

I was surprised, to say the least. “Did you break your hymen?” I asked.

“Huh?”

“Did you, uh, put something up there and suddenly found it went right in where it wouldn’t before? Was there pain, maybe some blood?”

“Oh, yeah, that was ages ago. When I saw you and Frankie putting your fingers in there, I wondered what it was like. It didn’t hurt that much, just a little sting. I thought I’d broken myself, but there wasn’t much blood. Was it okay that I did that?”

I took a mouthful of coffee, then gave her a shrug. “It’s not a big deal, really. It happens sooner or later. They used to call it ‘losing your virginity’ back when people were stupid. Or maybe just stupider.”

“When can I watch you and Frankie do sex again?”

I reached across the table to pinch Kerry’s cheeks, much to her delight. “Sex, sex, sex! Is that all you ever think about, Kerry Louise Hudson?”

“No, not all the time.”

“You can watch us again on Friday night. That way, we can all stay up late without having to worry about work or school.”

“Aww, Friday’s ages away!”

“I’m sure we’ll find ways to take your mind off it. Eat your breakfast. We need to get you to school.”

3

Having dropped Kerry off at school and watched her race over to meet her friends in the playground, I sat in the car and debated whether to hang around and check out all the other little girls. Maybe pop the button on my trousers and have a sneaky diddle.

I’d just about convinced myself that it was a splendid idea, when Kerry’s teacher, Miss Blake, trotted over to the car. I think her first name was Felicity or Felicia or Fellatio, something like that. She was a mousy little woman with a penchant for cardigans, quite pretty in a I’m-totally-unaware-that-I’m-attractive kind of way.

I’m also convinced that Miss Blake is hot for me. Frankie says I’m full of crap, but I know the signs when I see them. Okay, so she has a boyfriend, but then, Oscar Wilde was married to a woman, and he was the queerest man in the known world. Besides, all women have a lesbian fighting to get out. Fact.

I wound the window down and gave Miss Blake a smile.

Kerry’s teacher did this sort of breathless laugh, like running over to a car was just about the wackiest thing ever. “Hi, Sarah, how’re you?”

“Yeah, I’m good, thanks. Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely fine. No, it’s just a quickie. It’s a little embarrassing, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Um… how can I put this? Kerry’s, uh, well – she’s been flashing her bits around.”

I could feel a dull horror creeping up my spine. “Bits?”

“Yeah, you know,” Miss Blake gestured to her crotch with a wince, then mouthed, “bits.”

“Oh. I see.”

“I mean, listen, I’m not overly concerned. It’s pretty normal. Kerry’s getting to that age where boys and girls are beginning to grow conscious of, uh, their bodies, and she’s certainly not the only girl in school doing that sort of thing. Exposing herself, I mean. But it’s part of my job to,” Miss Blake made air quotes, “‘flag it up’, you know? And, er, to ask if everything’s okay at home.”

The fuck. What on earth was she implying? That I was exposing my eight-year-old daughter to sex? Well, yeah, I was doing that. But even so, I wasn’t bloody well putting up with Kerry’s teacher accusing me of doing something unsavoury. Even if it was true. Which it was.

“Yeah, of course everything’s okay at home. Why wouldn’t it be?” I said defensively, then narrowed my eyes. “Wait, wait. Does this have something to do with the fact that I’m in a relationship with another woman, by any chance?”

Yeah, I know. I played the lesbian discrimination card. Pretty underhanded, right?

It worked, though. Miss Blake looked horrified at the very idea. “No, no, no! That’s not what I’m— No, God, I wouldn’t – I’d never…” She brought her hands up to her face in a gesture of prayer, closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “It’s school policy, Sarah. That’s all it is. We’re told to look out for signs that something might be amiss, but like I say, I’m not worried. Kerry’s always been a happy kid.” After an uncomfortable pause, Miss Blake added, “She – she talks about your partner Frankie a lot!”

“They absolutely adore each other,” I said.

Miss Blake practically melted into a puddle on the spot. “Awwww, that’s so sweet!”

I took my wallet out and produced a photograph of Frankie. It was one of my favorites, taken outside a nightclub a couple of years back. Frankie is looking all pouty and sexy in a snug X-Ray Spex tee. No bra, of course. I held the picture up for Kerry’s teacher to see. “This is Frankie.”

I’m pretty sure Miss Blake creamed her knickers there and then. “Omigod, Sarah, she’s gorgeous!”

“You think so?” I asked casually, knowing full well my girlfriend was the very definition of sex appeal.

“Yes! You lucky bitch!” She slapped a hand to her mouth. “I… I just called you a bitch, didn’t I? I apologise.”

I could only laugh. “It’s okay. Frankie calls me a bitch sometimes, too.” I flashed my eyes. “Mostly in the bedroom.”

Miss Blake trapped her lower lip between her teeth. “Oh… well, that’s… mmm.”

I let that image sink in for a moment. When I spoke again, she nearly jumped out of her skin. “Anyway, I should be getting back. Nice talking to you.”

Miss Blake glanced down at her watch, then gave a little gasp. “Goodness! I need to get to class!”

“I’ll have a word with Kerry about her ‘bits’. We don’t need to take this any further, do we?”

The young teacher gave her head a rapid shake. “Absolutely not! I feel stupid having brought it up now. Take care, Sarah! Send my love to Frankie! No, don’t do that, I’ve never even met her!” She bunched her hands into fists and muttered, “Jesus… shut up, Felicity. Uh, bye, Sarah!”

“Bye.”

I half expected her to turn back, cross her eyes in a passing impression of Columbo and say, “Oh, just one more thing…” but instead, she scurried back towards the school and disappeared inside the building.

Kerry’s mousy little teacher could be a potential problem, I considered. But I was confident I could run rings around her. A little subtle flirting could work wonders, and Miss Blake was clearly bi-curious; probably hankering for some girl-on-girl action.

Still, we needed to be more careful. Kerry needed to be more careful.

4

When I picked Kerry up from school later, I took the opportunity to have a quiet word with her. “Your teacher says you’ve been flashing your pussy about,” I said matter-of-factly, because there was really no discreet way to put it.

Startled, Kerry was quick to deny any wrongdoing. “Huh? Um, no, I haven’t.”

“Well, Miss Blake wouldn’t say something like that if it wasn’t true, would she?”

“I’m not the only one doing it,” she muttered, staring down at her knees.

“I’m sure you’re not, but we have to be really careful, Kerry. Anything that draws attention to what we’re doing at home could get us into serious trouble.”

For a moment, Kerry looked like she wanted to argue the point, but settled for a morose sigh instead. “O-kay. Sorry.”

I took a hand off the wheel and rested it in her lap. “You don’t need to apologise. Just try to be more careful.”

In response, Kerry grabbed my wrist and guided me up her dress. I could feel the warmth of her pussy through her panties.

“Uh… not ideal, Kerry. You’ll make me crash the car.”

When she reached across to slide her hand up my skirt, I knew I had to put a stop to things. I withdrew my hand and then plucked hers from between my legs. “What did I just say about being careful? Not here, Kerry.”

My daughter had a mischievous glint in her eye. “Where, then? I want to play.” She slipped two fingers beneath the elastic of her knickers, then brought them to my nose.

I gave her a disapproving side glance, but my pussy was already beginning to stir. No surprise there – it seemed like I was in a constant state of arousal these days. I squeezed my thighs together to give myself some relief. “Well, wait until we get home, at least.”

When I parked the car in the driveway five minutes later, the light had begun to fade from the sky. I switched the engine off and killed the lights, then glanced in the rearview mirror. Living on a busy commuter street, there was usually a constant stream of people walking by at this time of day, but I’d parked facing the back wall, and it was dark enough that no one would see much. Not that they had any reason to look our way. That’s the weird thing about living in the city: there’s so many people, we all just stop noticing one another eventually.

We could’ve gone indoors, of course. We should’ve gone indoors. But cars are cocoons, safe, seemingly impenetrable. We do things in cars we wouldn’t contemplate doing anywhere else – sing along to the radio at the top of our voice because there’s nobody else there to tell us we sound like cats being strangled. Beep our horns at other drivers for minor misdemeanours whilst accusing them of being ‘fucking idiots’ because we know we don’t have to look them in the eye and defend our aggression. We pick our noses, scratch our crotches, fart, have arguments with ourselves, retreat to our happy places, sometimes our unhappy places.

I’d sat in the car at Kerry’s school and masturbated while watching all the cute little girls running around the playground, delighting in the occasional flash of knickers. Because it seemed like that might be an okay thing to do, as if a car was a one-way mirror, allowing you to see out but no one else to see in.

I hadn’t touched Kerry yet, not intimately, not skin on skin. Because in my fucked-up mind, letting my daughter suck pussy juice from my fingers didn’t really count. Nor did rubbing my panty-covered cunt against her face. It was me touching her that counted. There were bad words for that, I knew, words I didn’t want to contemplate.

But where would be the harm, there in the car, the two of us shut off from the world? What happened in the car stayed there, didn’t it?

“Now,” I said, giving Kerry a sultry look, “where were we?” I hiked my skirt up around my waist and took Kerry’s hand, placing it firmly on the crotch of my now damp panties. My cunt was throbbing. “Pull your dress up, sweetie.”

Clearly thrilled by this unexpected development, Kerry did as I asked, allowing me to trail two fingers up and down the cleft of her pussy through the lilac knickers she wore, pushing the soft cotton into her puffy crack. I placed my free hand atop hers, pressing her fingers firmly into my sex, encouraging exploration.

“So who were you showing your pussy to?” I asked as we fondled one another.

“Just some of the other girls,” Kerry told me. “I dared them to show me theirs, but only Emily would.”

“Does Emily have a nice pussy?”

Kerry nodded. “It’s really pink and small.”

“You need to stop doing it at school, though. I nearly had a heart attack when Miss Blake told me.”

“I like doing it, though,” Kerry said with a halfhearted pout.

Of course she did. Don’t all little girls like to display themselves? I’m pretty sure I read somewhere it’s a primate thing – boys fight each other and act like idiots, girls show their pussies. We all have our evolutionary crosses to bear, I suppose.

“So do it at home instead,” I told Kerry. “I’m sure Frankie’s eyes would pop out of her head if you flashed your pussy at her.”

“Really?” Kerry said with a giggle.

“Well, I don’t think her eyes would actually pop out. Hard to tell with Frankie. She can be weird.”

“No, I mean, can I really do that at home?”

I rolled my shoulders into a shrug. Fuck, when did I get so nonchalant about everything? “Sure. It’s a pretty normal thing for a young girl to be doing. But home is safer.” I was getting so turned on I could feel my cunt leaking. “I think it’s about time we took our panties off, don’t you?”

I retrieved my hand from between Kerry’s legs, then slipped my knickers down, losing them in the footwell. Kerry went to do the same, but paused to smell my scent on her fingers.

“Come on, sweetie, get those knickers off,” I almost growled, reaching across to help her slide them down her legs. “Mummy wants to finger you.”

I brought the warm cotton to my face without thinking. Whatever my daughter got up to at school had left her knickers infused with a fruity musk. “Ooh, yeah,” I muttered, then pocketed the soiled undies. “I’ll have to save these for later.”

Kerry gave me a little smirk. “All right. I don’t mind if you borrow them.”

I spread my legs as wide as the cramped space would allow, then encouraged Kerry to do the same. Our fingers found each other again, this time with no panties to hinder us. I coated a finger in saliva, smeared it across my daughter’s slit, then penetrated her with it. “Fuck me with your fingers, Peanut. Put two inside.”

“Okay.” Kerry’s fingers plunged into me with a slippery ease. “Like this?”

“That’s it. Now push them in and out. A little quicker. A little harder. Oh, yeah, that’s it. Fuck me, Kerry.”

The air in the car was thick with our combined arousal. I breathed it in as we went at each other like two teenagers behind the bike sheds. Kerry was hot, tight and silky smooth, like dipping a finger into liquid velvet.

And still I somehow managed to convince myself that this wasn’t really sex. We weren’t licking or rubbing against each other. We weren’t doing the big stuff. Just a little harmless finger-play.

You and your eight-year-old daughter are fingering each other in the car while people walk by. That’s what you’re doing right now. Idiot.

Shut up. I’m gonna come.

Good for you. Congratulations.

Kerry began moving her hips in rhythm with my finger. “It feels really nice.”

“You like it when Mummy fingers your pussy?”

“Mmm.”

“Good. You smell so nice, baby.”

“So do you.”

I brushed a thumb across my clit. I was so close now. “Keep fucking me, Kerry. I’m gonna come on your fingers. Is it okay if I do that?”

“Yeah.” Kerry was dreamy-eyed with pleasure. I knew she was close, but had to wonder if she’d ever managed to make herself come before.

“You’ve got such a tight little baby cunt,” I blurted before my orgasm crashed into me. I grabbed Kerry’s wrist and held her fingers inside me while my spasming pussy clamped around them. “Oh, fuck! Fuck yeah! So fucking good!”

“Don’t stop doing it to me, Mummy!” Kerry squealed, so with the aftermath of my climax still rippling through me, I got back to fucking her, reaching across with my other hand to stroke her little clitty.

Kerry gazed at me open-mouthed until I felt the walls of her pussy contract and squeeze my finger. She let out a breathless groan, then slumped back in her seat. “Um… I might’ve peed myself.”

“That’s not what happened. You just had an orgasm, Peanut.”

“‘Kay.”

“Was that your first time?”

Kerry managed a shrug. “Dunno.”

I pushed her school dress back in place, then smoothed it out with maternal attentiveness. “You don’t know?”

“It never happened as big as that before. Maybe the other times weren’t actual orgasms.”

I reached across to stroke her hair. “Well. It’s not an exact science, I suppose. As long as it feels good, that’s what matters.”

If you’d asked me a year ago if a girl as young as Kerry could reach orgasm, I’d have told you no. Since then, I’ve seen videos of even younger girls coming. Frankie says even babies can come, though I’ve not quite plucked up the courage to ask her how she could possibly know that.

“We made the windows all steamy,” Kerry pointed out, drawing a big heart on the glass.

I kissed her on the nape of her neck. “Let’s go indoors.”

5

Frankie was in the lounge finishing up her blog posts. She glanced up at us briefly, then returned her attention to her laptop. “Thought I heard the car pull in. What were you two doing out there?”

I sauntered behind the couch and leaned in to put my arms around her. “Nothing much,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.

Kerry parked herself in the easy chair on the other side of the coffee table. I gave her a sly wink.

“I’ve told Kerry she can watch us make love again,” I said casually.

The click click click of keystrokes ceased. “Do I get any say in the matter?”

“Nah.”

Frankie peered back at me. “Okay, then. Guess I’ll just have to go along with it.”

I kissed her on the nape. “That’s the spirit.”

“Mummy says we’ll do it Friday,” Kerry added, fidgeting in her chair.

“Friday. Right. Noted.”

I brought a finger to Frankie’s nose, the same one I’d fucked Kerry with.

Frankie’s eyes lit up. “Oh… What?”

With Frankie momentarily distracted, I used the other hand to mime pulling my skirt up, nodding to Kerry.

Kerry understood. She drew her feet up onto the chair, spread her knees apart, then slowly hiked her school dress up.

I waited for that to sink in, then wafted my finger under Frankie’s nose again. “Connecting the dots yet, sweetheart?”

“Fuck…” Frankie whispered, staring at my little girl’s cunt. “Er… what happened to your panties, Kerry?”

I drew the lilac knickers from my pocket and attached them to my girlfriend’s face. “They’re right here.”

“Omigod,” Frankie mumbled through the soiled cotton. I pushed them over her head and left them draped round her neck, then prised Frankie’s laptop from her fingers, laying it down on the coffee table.

“You can finish that later. I’m going to masturbate now. And Kerry… well, she can do what she likes with you.”

Having unzipped my skirt and stepped out of it, I parked myself in the other easy chair opposite the coffee table and spread my legs apart, making it clear I was also sans panties. “Well, what are you waiting for, Kerry? Go have some fun with Frankie.”

Kerry bounced off the chair and onto her feet. “What, like sexy fun, you mean?”

“Sure.”

“What shall I do?”

Another careless shrug. “Whatever you like. It’s up to you. Pretend Frankie’s one of your school friends.”

Frankie cleared her throat. “Hi. I’m actually still in the room, you know.” She gave me and Kerry a little wave. “See? Here I am!”

“Shush!” Kerry and I said in unison.

Kerry marched over to Frankie and lifted her dress. “Do you like it, Frankie?”

Frankie could only gawp at Kerry’s hairless pussy. She’s a blatant gawper. She could turn gawping into an olympic sport. “It’s… beautiful.”

“Can you see it good enough? ‘Cause I can give you a closer look, if you want.”

“I mean… I wouldn’t say no to a better look. If that’s an option.” Frankie looked across at me. “Is it?”

I gave her a slow nod, my fingers lightly stroking the cleft of my sex.

Kerry dragged the coffee table out of the way. “Okay, this is what Emily and me do in the field next to the playground.” She pointed at the carpet. “Frankie, you lay down here.”

Intrigued, Frankie abandoned the couch and stretched out on the rug, peering up at Kerry with wide, blinking eyes. “Like this?”

“Yeah. Now wait.”

“I’m not going anywhere, trust me.”

Stepping over Frankie, my daughter lifted her dress again. “See?”

“Yeah. I can definitely see that.”

“Take a good long look. Aaaand… okay, stop.” Kerry let her dress drop. “Now you have to close your eyes.”

Frankie complied. “Okay.”

Kerry stepped over Frankie’s head and bent her knees into a slight squat. The dress came up once more. “You can open them again.”

Frankie’s eyes flickered open. She squeezed her thighs together. “Fuck, that’s so hot. Did I win?”

“Huh? No, you don’t win or lose. It’s just for fun.”

“Right.”

My fingers had found a familiar rhythm now, strumming back and forth across my clit as I watched Kerry playing her little game.

Kerry sank down another couple of inches. “Close enough, Fran-kee?” she asked in a sassy voice.  “You want it clo-ser?”

“Yes. Closer.”

Kerry squatted lower still. Her bare pussy was a foot away from Frankie’s face. “How’s that? E-ven clo-ser…?”

“Yes!”

Another three inches. I knew Frankie would be able to smell my daughter now, the scent of a little girl who’s been playing naughty games at school all day. The thought sent a ripple of pleasure through me.

“What about now, Fran-keeee? Is this close enough?”

“Closer!”

Kerry dropped into a full squat, her pussy a mere four inches from Frankie’s face. Kerry tucked the hem of her dress under her chin and regarded Frankie with a little smirk. “I can’t get it any closer, ’cause you won’t be able to see it properly if I do. Emily went all cross-eyed when I did that. But I can do this.” She prised her pussy open, letting Frankie take in the sight.

Frankie must have been soaking her knickers. I would’ve if I’d been wearing any. Instead, I frigged myself silly, probing the boundaries of my orgasm before pulling back at the last moment. Not now. Not yet.

But I was so, so close; enough that my voice was shaking when I told Kerry, “Finger yourself for Frankie.”

Kerry wasted no time in cramming a finger inside her pussy, lewdly pumping it back and forth. Frankie slipped a hand between her own legs to rub herself through her jeans. “Oh, Sarah… I am so fucking turned on right now.”

I took myself towards the edge again; denied myself release once more. “Stick that finger in Frankie’s mouth, Kerry.”

No hesitation. Straight from her pussy to Frankie’s parted lips. “There you go, Frankie. Hope you like it.”

I think Frankie liked it a lot.

“Back in your pussy, Peanut. Make it all juicy for Frankie.” I could hear the liquid sounds of Kerry’s finger pistoning in and out. I worked my cunt; pulled back at the last moment. Couldn’t contain it much longer. By then, my hands were shaking. “B-back in her mouth. Quickly!”

Frankie sucked my little girl’s finger greedily. Her legs spasmed out, and I knew she was coming. Kerry pulled her finger free and wagged it at Frankie. “Uh-uh-uh. That’s enough for you, Fran-kee.”

A single drop of fluid dripped from Kerry’s slit to splash against Frankie’s lips. I finally allowed my climax to consume me, fully giving myself over to sweet oblivion. I wailed something incoherent, then slumped back into the chair.

I’m not sure how long it was before I was able to make sense of anything. I opened my eyes to find Frankie and Kerry staring at me.

“Yay for cummies…” I mumbled.

6

Later that evening, the three of us were sitting on the couch watching TV in our pyjamas. Kerry, as usual, was curled up between Frankie and me.

It was so strange how we could just slot back into our normal lives after indulging in such debauchery, as if we were all doing our utmost to pretend nothing had happened.

“Mum, Frankie’s picking her nose,” Kerry announced, rousing me from my reverie.

“Mmm? Oh, she’s not very ladylike, I’m afraid.”

Frankie pulled her finger out of her nostril and waved it in front of Kerry. “Wanna see?”

Kerry recoiled in horror. “Urgh, no!”

Frankie gave a gleeful titter. “Relax, there’s nothing there.”

My girlfriend could be such a child. There was a time when I thought it was endearing and cute, but when you reach a point in your life where you can no longer tell right from wrong, you rely on the people closest to you to pull you back from the brink. And Frankie was never going to be much help in that regard, especially considering she was the one who opened Pandora’s Box in the first place.

That’s a crock of shit and you know it. Frankie may have brought the box home, but it was you that opened it up and then proceeded to jump inside without a care in the world.

All this goes through my mind. But it’s hazy, background noise, a frantic, panic-stricken voice shouting to me from somewhere far away.

A siren was blaring outside. There are always sirens going past our house, but now I feel myself tense when I hear one getting closer. The sound faded away and I relaxed again. My mouth curled up into a smile. I smile a lot these days.

Soon to come: Chapter Eight!