Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By hornykate

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in August 2013 }

We used to live in a block of flats. It wasn’t a bad area. We had some rough types as neighbours, though they may have thought the same about us. I was a single mother with three young daughters aged eight, seven and six. They were friends with some of the neighbours’ kids and I used to enjoy watching them all play on the front garden through my upstairs kitchen window.

Some of the kids I REALLY enjoyed watching, such as Angel (who wasn’t an angel at all, she was the opposite, and I spent many nights wondering just how un-angelic she could be!). Then there was May, a seemingly quiet child, but one who had some odd character traits. She was eight years old but she always used to aim straight for my six year old, and often tried to pick her up as though she were a baby. Once or twice I caught them in some seemingly private place whispering furtively. I kept my eye on that girl. There was definitely something a little strange about her.

I’d bought one of those flimsy pop-up tents for my daughters to play in, and one day I noticed from my window that May and my six-year-old Daisy had gone into the tent and were clearly on their own in there. A gut feeling told me to go downstairs and see what they were up to. For some reason, I literally crept up to the tent, feeling sure I’d catch them in the middle of something they shouldn’t be doing, and when I whipped back the tent door flap my six year old was naked.

“What on earth is going on here?” I asked, outwardly calm but inwardly a little less so.

“May told me to take my clothes off!” said Daisy, looking for all the world like she was about to cry.

I calmed my little girl down, not wanting her to think she was in trouble, then looked to May. “Well?” I asked, “why did you do that, May?”

She had no answer. I didn’t expect her to have one, and again I didn’t want her to feel she was in trouble. Kids stuff, I told myself. Natural curiosity.

“It’s okay,” I told them both, “but keep your clothes on next time.”

That was May. Pleasant, polite, quiet. But odd. I thought of the adage ‘quiet rivers run deep’ and that’s how I felt about her. She was no taller than Zoë, my eldest, but she seemed so because she was skinnier. Facially, she was beautiful. Long blonde hair, lithe of limb, but always seeming a little on the unwashed side. In the USA you’d probably describe her as white trailer-trash. Is that the phrase?

Her lack of personal hygiene actually did something for me. It evoked a very strong emotional response that came from my childhood.

When I was about ten I had what was undoubtedly my first lesbian experience. There was a group of us that hung around together; school friends and a few sisters of school friends. One of these sisters was a girl called Tracey. The family were clearly very poor, and looking back now, I realize that the mother had what we now call learning difficulties.

Anyway, one day I happened to find myself alone with Tracey, on a piece of waste land we called the rec, short for Recreational Area. It was dusk. She was sitting opposite me on the grass. I could see her panties. They were originally white but they seemed faded and slightly yellow. And there was a piss stain right on the crotch. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it. The discoloured panties were probably a reaction from an even earlier childhood event that I wasn’t aware of, but it was such an erotic turn on for me.

We talked about nothing much really, but I was slowly moving closer and closer to her. I’m not deliberately skipping details here, I genuinely can’t remember how it happened, but I began kissing her. Then I had her stand up in front of me so I could kiss her cunt through her panties. It seems really odd that I should have done that, but at the time it felt like a normal thing to do.

I was a rather sexual little thing as a youngster, starting masturbating when I was seven or eight and often looking for things I could put into myself. I even did something I feel a little shame about: I took a carrot from the veg bowl and used it on myself, actually getting it inside my cunt, and for dinner that night we had a beef stew and my little carrot was there, in the dinner! (Oops!). But I’m losing myself in my memories.

Suffice it to say, I had a sense that May was, shall we say, a little under-washed. And what with that, and my discovery of her undressing my youngest in a tent, my thoughts that night as I lay in bed were not exactly innocent.

The following days were free of incident. No more unusual behaviour. But about a week later, I was watching the children play in the garden. My ex was due to pick the kids up and, bang on time he turned up, the children waved me goodbye, my ex blew me a kiss (we were still friends!) and my three jumped aboard his beat up Rover and were gone, leaving a few stray children in the garden. It was a communal space, so they carried on playing.

May was there, wearing a skirt that was too short and a crop-top that revealed a flat little tummy. Ah, her skinny little legs. I loved them.

I noticed her younger sister was there too, just as something happened that shocked me, it was so unexpected and so out of character. May, for whatever reason, hit her little sister really hard on the back of the head.

I knew she was odd, but violent? Her little sister started crying. It was upsetting, to be honest, and I felt quite angry. I don’t like bullying of any sort. I opened the kitchen window and shouted “May!”

She looked up and froze. I curled my Peter Pointer finger and beckoned her upstairs. Why, I wasn’t sure. She wasn’t my child. I had no real authority to tell her off. But then, I wasn’t going to tell her off, I just wanted to talk to her, tell her what she’d done was not acceptable.

I heard her slowly climb the concrete stairs, and I waited until I could see her in the frosted glass of the door. I opened it, sharply, as if to convey my authority. “Come in a minute, May,” I said, straight faced, “I’d like a word.” She came inside and I closed the door and ushered her into the living room. “Sit down, please.”

She sat. Legs together. Prim. Abashed. She knew she’d been rumbled. I sat on the coffee table opposite her, a big solid oak thing. “Why did you do that?”

“What?” she asked, quietly but sort of defiant.

“You know what. You hit your little sister. You made her cry.”

In spite of myself, I realized I was taking advantage of the fact she was staring at the floor by looking at her legs. Wrong, I know. It was funny, really. Funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha, that on the one hand I was being my usual maternal self in protecting a young child, but was at that moment being most UN- maternal in trying to look up this eight year old’s skirt.

“No-one likes a bully,” I said whilst desperately trying to alter the angle of my gaze, “and what I saw looked like bullying.”

Silence.

“How would you feel if someone older than you hit you on the back of the head?”

More silence. Then I noticed her poor little face. Tears were starting to roll down her cheeks.

I felt bad. Had I gone too far? Chastised too much? I left the coffee table and sat down next to her. She had her hands in her lap. I took one in my hands and stroked it gently. She didn’t pull away.

I apologized, but still insisting that she shouldn’t have done what she did. She agreed. She nodded her head, snuffled, wiped away the tears with her free hand. I was still stroking the other.

And then everything sort of changed. I moved a little closer so we touched, then slowly wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?” I asked. She nodded again, but was still a little tearful.

I was now rubbing, stroking her shoulder. And I could smell her. Unwashed female genitalia may not appeal to most, but for reasons I’ve already explained, it gets me every time. This smell, this aroma, took me back so many years. We sat there together, she slowly calming down, me slowly doing the opposite. I was still stroking her shoulder and she seemed to turn in to me, and it felt the most natural thing in the world to bring her towards me so her head was nestling on my shoulder. At that point I moved my hand away from HER shoulder and placed it on the side of her head, where I continued stroking, caressing.

I felt a little giddy. The close proximity of this child, the intimate contact, the smell, and yes, the shortness of her skirt all combined to create a situation that I knew I should put a stop to. I placed May’s hand back in her lap, but kept my own hand there, enclosing hers in mine so that my fingers rested on her bare leg, the one nearest me.

I was in a daze. My middle finger began to draw a vague arch on her thigh. It was a gamble. I was thinking, would I be able to explain such a thing if she suddenly sat bolt upright and asked what I was doing? Probably not. But I didn’t stop. Consider what’s happening, I told myself. I’m with an eight year old child, she has her head nestled in the crook of my neck, I’m drawing small figures on her thigh, she’s not pulling away, not running from my flat in hysterics, she’s actually more calm now than at any point since she walked through my door.

Then her legs parted, ever so slightly, and the vague one-fingered arcs I was tracing on her leg became bolder, more definitive. My breathing became more laboured as she nestled ever closer to me, her legs parting a little more. My finger, joined by the other fingers, began to caress her inner thigh, the smell becoming intoxicating.

I impetuously kissed the top of her head. May’s hair was clean, but I could smell the unwashed aroma of her sex, the panties that I guessed had not been changed for days, the beautiful heady aroma of piss and little girl cunt.

I was transported through the years, I was ten again and back with Tracey on the rec at dusk on a warm summer evening, licking the slightly soiled gusset of a preteen girl.

Back in the present, I hadn’t realized how high my hand had travelled along May’s thigh and… and… and my fingers were now touching the frilled edge of her knickers. I was stroking the sinews at the top of her thighs as she opened her legs as wide as she could.

Realizing the situation had already gone beyond my control, I ran my finger along her panty-covered slit. I’d gone past what would be acceptable, I was in the Kingdom of Desire, and I was lost. My middle finger was now sliding up and down the groove in her panties, and I could feel the wetness of her eight year old cunt. May was breathing heavily into my neck. My head was swimming as I traced the waistband of her knickers, felt the taut flatness of her tummy, diverted into her belly-button, then down and beneath the elastic to touch the bare, naked, hairlessness of her vulva.

She was wet. So wet, in fact, it surprised me. And I’m no expert, but I don’t think she was a virgin. I slid one finger inside her, not wanting to hurt her but it went in so easily that I added another finger. My God, she was wet. Really, yes, children do respond to sexual stimuli.

I had to kiss her, I wanted to so much. I positioned her head so she was looking towards me and leant forward until our lips met. She was no stranger to this. Her tongue slid into my mouth and, not wanting to be outdone, I met her tongue with mine. We kissed. I expected nervousness, timidity. But no, she kissed me like a lover, like one who has kissed before. I tasted her saliva. I used the hand I wasn’t fingering with to cup her face, feel her delicate cheekbones. My tongue was in her mouth, licking along her teeth.

I had two fingers inside May’s cunt, but wanted to taste her through her knickers, so I slid down to the floor and positioned myself between her legs. I looked up into her eyes as if seeking confirmation, and she just stared at me, her eyes sort of half-lidded, almost lizard-like, but aware enough of what I was about to do. I put a hand on each thigh to keep them apart, not that I thought I’d have any resistance. I looked, gazed, stared at her concealed slit.

Her panties, like Tracey’s, were slightly soiled, with a faint tint of yellow. I bent forward and ran my tongue along her piss scented cunt, thinking about taking her knickers off and putting them under my pillow. But I didn’t. I licked. And licked. And licked, until her knickers were so wet I could’ve wrung them out. I licked, then kissed her cunt, her prominent pubic bone, her beautifully flat tummy, her immature but developing chest, licking each nipple in turn, then up to her face, where I kissed her again. I wanted to kiss her hard, with passion, but didn’t. We kissed gently, delicately.

“Why’d you undress Daisy?” I asked, between kisses. “Did you want to do this with her?”

She didn’t answer, just smiled.

So I made the return journey down her skinny little body, kissing both her nipples, firstly through her crop-top, then rucking up the material so we could be skin on skin. Her breasts were barely there but her nipples stood out, enough for me to gently bite them.

After a minute or two I felt her hand on my head, exerting a gentle downward pressure, and I knew she wanted me between her legs again. But I wanted her to ask, so instead I raised my head so we were face to face.

“What do you want me to do?” I asked in a barely audible whisper.

“What you did before,” she replied, just as quietly.

“Tell me,” I said, “tell me you want me to lick your cunt.”

And slowly, the words came out. “I want you to lick me,” she said. I didn’t move. “I want you to lick my cunt. Please. Lick my cunt.”

I almost came there and then, but managed to control myself. Instead, I did as May asked. I kissed my way down that beautiful little body until my head was between her legs once more, looking at the now soaked gusset of her panties, the sight and smell driving me insane. I gently moved the gusset to one side and licked along her baby slit; up first, then moving downward, not stopping until my tongue was teasing her little butthole.

That seemed to trigger an erotic response from her, in that she lifted her legs up from the floor and drew her knees up to her body, exposing her puckered hole to my invasive tongue. And like her cunt, May’s rosebud was a tad unwashed, which inflamed my lust even further. My tongue first licked, teased, then slid into her rectum. Her breathing was ragged, laboured. I alternated between her ass and her cunt, savouring the delicious taste of both, my tongue slipping easily into both holes.

I wanted this little eight year old girl to come, wanted her to explode in my face. I could taste her cunt juice, I could taste her piss, and I could taste her shit too. That may revolt some, but it only made me want her more.

Then it happened. I felt May’s hands on my head as I concentrated on her clit, then her juices flowed into my mouth. And as she came, I was thinking of her in the pop-up tent with my daughter Daisy, wondering what would’ve happened had I not interrupted them. I had a feeling that would be a staple fantasy of mine for years to come.

By Donna and Thom

—- Clare —-

Donna and I had just managed to get off with a hand snaked into each other’s panties when we heard the car in the driveway. Thom and the girls were just getting in. I grabbed my sweat pants and threw them on and ran out the door. Typically I had time to get upstairs from my short rendezvous with Donna before they got to the house. If I had hesitated to French kiss her or cop one last feel of her gorgeous bum, then I would run part way up the stairs and then turn quickly around and act like I was coming down to greet them.

We were nearing the end of the week and the girls would be going back for another lesson with Donna. I got the impression from her that she would be teaching them oral techniques and expecting them to be able to bring their partner to orgasm before she would be letting them out of class. That in combination with my working on seducing them would result in the perfect storm that might culminate in my making love with my daughters, a fantasy that I had held for quite a long time but couldn’t figure out how to fulfill until Donna came along. Her teaching sex education at a private girls school gave me the perfect excuse for sending my girls for private lessons.

In addition to the great sex that I was thinking about having with my girls and that I WAS having with Donna, in the back of my mind, I was thinking that I needed to try to massage this whole experience into persuading my daughters to be lesbians from this point on and not to even begin to get involved with boys. I was thinking of making a similar declaration for myself, and maybe I would be able to commit myself to Donna if she would have me, though I wasn’t quite sure how I was going to deal with the girls’ father, Thom.

I had one more opportunity to be alone with the girls and make myself alluring before they were going for their next lesson with Donna. Donna always saw them after supper when Thom left for his card game. Since he was out of town this particular night, I would be alone with them from when they got out of school until they went downstairs.

Luckily, it was a hot, spring night which meant I could start out with very few clothes on to begin with. I selected a T-shirt cut off just below my boobs and no bra so that as I moved around or bent over, some parts of my tits would be exposed. For my bottom, I wore a pair of short-short cut-off blue-jean shorts and no panties underneath. I was counting on my shaved pussy being exposed around the legs of the shorts when I spread my legs apart.

When the girls came home from school, I told them to get into comfortable clothes, maybe their T-shirts and panties since they would be going to see Donna after we had a light supper. Being the obliging kids that they are, that is exactly what they did and came out with cut-off T-shirts themselves and their little cotton panties. So that their attention began to focus on me, I started off a conversation talking about their bodies and how lovely I thought they were becoming.

“Wow, Melinda,” I said, “your legs are becoming so long and shapely.”

“What about my legs?” Leslie asked even before Melinda had a chance to respond.

“Well, your legs are pretty nice Hon, but Melinda is maturing at her age. You will have a couple more years before that stuff begins to happen with you. See how her legs and mine are quite similar in size and shape?” I purposely spread my legs apart to show them off and give them a clear view of my pussy as it peeked out the edge of my shorts at them. I caught them both staring at it and not at my legs at all.

“Gees Mom, your cunny is showing,” said Leslie, Melinda still not saying a word.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that it’s so hot I didn’t feel like wearing any panties. In fact, I’m thinking about stripping down naked since your father won’t be home tonight. Would you be upset about that if I ran around naked?”

“Oh, gees Mom, I don’t know. Would anyone be able to see you?” finally Melinda spoke up more worried about her own embarrassment than mine or her sister’s.

“Probably not; we’re on the second floor and you already know that Donna and I are close.” I stood up and stripped off my T-shirt and then my jeans shorts and sat back down naked.

“Ah, can I ask you about that?” Leslie said. “I mean are you and Donna going to be lesbians? And will you still be with Dad?”

I wasn’t exactly prepared for this conversation and I should have suspected that Leslie, my youngest, would figure it out before Melinda or at least say something about it before Melinda did.

“Well, you know that your dad and I are not exactly the closest couple in the world and that he and I both have lives of our own. You need to know that we have both agreed to let each other pursue any relationship that we might encounter to see where it might go. You can ask him about that agreement and I think he will concur.”

“I sort of did that, Mom,” Leslie said, “and he said the same thing. I didn’t tell him about Donna though, either about us or about you doing stuff with her.”

“I think I should thank you for that, dear. It’s too early in all of our relationships with Donna to be able to say with certainty what might happen next. But, I have been thinking that I sort of wished that I had committed myself to being a lesbian at your age and not had relationships with boys, even your father.”

“What about us? You would not have had babies if you only loved women,” Melinda finally found her voice.

“Not exactly. Lot’s of lesbian couples have babies, either through adoption or artificial insemination.”

“Artificial, what?” Melinda wanted to know, being a bit snotty that I had an answer to both her obvious and subtle question.

“Insemination. Sperm from a male donor that was given earlier and sometimes frozen. You can pretty much pick the sex and a lot of the characteristics. Anyway, in case you were wondering, you were all naturally conceived.”

“Do you think it’s better to be a lesbian, Mom and not have a boyfriend?” Leslie asked, still taking the lead.

“I’m close to saying I think so. Not all of me has made up my mind, but most of me has, and when we do, if we do, then our family will have many decisions to make. For the time being though, I think we should strip down to whatever we think will make us feel better in this heat and be comfortable.”

Both of my girls stripped off their T’s and panties and the three of us were naked, together in the family room. It was really a good feeling to see them naked and uninhibited and to be naked with them. We continued talking for a few more minutes and then I admonished them to get downstairs so as not to keep Donna waiting.

“Okay, run along. Donna will be waiting for you.”

“Like this Mom, shouldn’t we dress?” Melinda asked.

“No, I don’t think so. I think she’ll be happy to see you, just the way you are. Now scoot.”

—- Donna —-

When Clare left in such a hurry I felt empty and disappointed, realizing that she and I were truly bonding in a very special relationship. I could easily imagine our becoming partners in a permanent sense, raising her daughters as both mother and father to them, assuming, of course, that Thom could be persuaded to remove himself from the scene.

But that conjecture was premature, I realized, and though my pussy was still tingling from the sensations left there by Clare’s talented fingers, I decided to fix myself a drink, have a little supper, and wait for my little pupils to arrive for their next lesson in lesbian lasciviousness.

As I sipped my gin and tonic (easy on the tonic), I recalled my first session with the girls—their eagerness to explore each other’s young bodies, their delicious taste as I licked their little cunnies. The way they seemed to wholeheartedly warm to the lesbian way of loving. I couldn’t wait to teach them how to lick my pussy and eventually to taste their own mother’s delicious cunt cream.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two sets of feet pounding down the stairs, and before I could rise from my position on the couch, where I had been fingering my pussy while sipping at my drink, the girls burst in and I saw them in all their naked glory. What a beautiful sight they were as they rushed up and crawled onto the couch on either side of me and hugged me with their sweet, naked bodies.

“Well, what have we here?” I gasped, as they each placed a warm and wet kiss on my cheeks and let their hands wander over my thinly covered torso, feeling my breasts as the nipples hardened under their little probing fingers.

“Mommy says we are to do whatever you tell us to do,” cried Leslie, running her hand down into my shorts and toying with my pubic hair.

Melinda didn’t say anything but, lowering her head and reaching to pull my t-shirt up, bent to suck on my right nipple. Her hot little mouth just took the nipple in and made it stand up hard and wanting. I took the shirt the rest of the way off and motioned Leslie to glom onto my other breast, which she eagerly did.

It was heavenly to feel these two sweet, young girls sucking at my breasts, almost making me wish I had become a mother. But wait! I was having all the pleasure of being a mother without any of the pain or discomfort of child birth or the mess of taking care of infants. This was the best of both worlds!

As the girls noshed on my nipples, I caressed their lithe bodies, running my hands up and down their backs, cupping the little ass cheeks and letting my fingers explore the soft crevasses of their anuses and pussies.

When I could stand it no longer I pushed the girls away from me and sat up, suggesting we retire to the bedroom. The girls wanted a taste of my gin and tonic, so I let them each have a sip. Neither of them liked the taste, but I thought it might make them a little more open to what I had in mind for them in the bedroom.

We all plopped down on the bed together, and I asked them if they would like to get better acquainted with my pussy. They were eager to explore, so I lay on my back, stretched my legs apart and nudged their heads down to between my outspread thighs.

My pussy was wet and runny, and when I felt little fingers probing and playing with my nether lips, I began a slow, long orgasm that lasted the whole time the girls were at my glory hole. Leslie lost no time in being the aggressor, diving down to bury her face in my cunt and run her tongue up from the crack into my sopping pubic hair. Melinda followed suit, and soon I felt two sets of lips and two tongues swishing around and glorying in the honey at the opening of my womanhood. The girls took to cunt lapping like they were born for it, and soon I had to push them away so I could get my breath.

After resting a bit while the girls played with each other’s pussies, I told Melinda to kneel over my face while Leslie went back to sucking my pussy. I took Melinda’s lovely sweet spot into my mouth as I held her ass cheeks in my hands and she pressed her cunny into me as she wriggled and writhed in a sweet orgasm. Leslie got me going again quickly, and we continued until all three were lying in a heap, sweaty and satisfied.

While we lay there, one girl on each side of me, them idly playing with my pussy and breasts, me caressing them softly, Leslie piped up and said, “Donna, do you suppose our mom would enjoy doing this kind of thing with us?”

I was taken aback by this question, but pleased that it had come from one of them rather than from me. “Why, I bet she would enjoy it,” I responded. “Shall we get her down here and see what she thinks?”

Leslie hopped right off the bed and ran to the door saying, “I’ll go up and get her to come down here now.”

In a few minutes I heard footsteps on the stairway again, and in walked Clare, being led by the hand by her darling daughter, Leslie. “Mom! You came!” gushed Melinda, perhaps a bit surprised to see her mother, also nude, approaching the bed and climbing on, giving me a warm kiss on the lips as she did.

Then I orchestrated a lovely scene in which Clare was able to explore her daughters’ youthful bodies and then allow them to learn the taste of their mother’s pussy. Meanwhile, Clare and I exchanged warm kisses and licks, and when all of us were exhausted, we lay together in the bed, a warm and happy family, and plotted how we were going to make a lovely lesbian life together.

By Donna and Thom

—- Clare —-

Ever since our first love making, Donna and I had been catching a quickie in the afternoons when she got home from teaching. My girls were usually doing their homework, and I didn’t have to worry about Thom coming home for several hours, and I’ve usually pretty much prepared supper ahead of time.

On the afternoon I told Donna what I had gotten the girls to agree to, I had gone down on her on her bed and she had wrapped her knees around my head, her lower legs and feet were down my back. She was thrusting her sex into my mouth and I told her about the arrangement as I caught a breath of air.

The thought of it seemed to really turn her own because when I got back to business she had a super orgasm that drenched my face with her cum. Her orgasm got me pretty excited as well and I climbed up from between her legs and lay on top of her and gave her a sloppy opened mouth kiss, smearing her great scent all over her face from mine. I then pulled my self up to a straddle over her tummy and masturbated myself to a pretty neat finish as well. I like to pump my pussy while someone is watching. Imagining that it was Donna and my daughters got me very turned on.

I was a complete wreck the entire day that the girls were going to Donna’s for their first lesson. As soon as Donna came home, I checked in with her to make sure she was still a go. She was having a drink to relax herself and offered me one which I quickly accepted. She showed me the pajamas and panties she was planning to wear when the girls came down later, and asked me if I thought they would be ok.

I wanted to see her in them and told her so. I actually wanted to see her out of them, and have her bare bottom on my face. We settled for some French kissing and snaking our hands under each other’s clothes for a bit and then I ran back upstairs to greet the girls, who were coming home from school.

After supper, as soon as Thom had left, the girls got undressed and put on panties and T-shirts to go downstairs. I wished them luck, and off they went. I got undressed myself after they left, and wrapped a terry cloth robe around me so that I would be readily available when I visited Donna after the lesson.

When they came back upstairs, they seemed transformed. Their skin was all aglow from the aura of their experience, they were animated, discussing the pros and cons of fingers in, and fingers on, and kissing things.

“Did you have a nice time, girls?”

“Oh yes mommy,” said my little one, “Donna is a great teacher and it feels so good to do that stuff.”

“Wow, I didn’t know it could be better with someone else but it got me all excited when Leslie pulled down her panties and seeing Donna naked and sucking on her boobies…” Melinda said without prompting. “You should do it with her too.”

“Well, maybe I will,” I said, “we’ll see, but what’s important now is that you girls learn. Maybe after a few lessons, you could show me a thing or two.”

“Sure mommy, that would be fun,” said Leslie, ever the adventurous one.

“Listen, I made some pop corn and the movie you picked out is in the DVD player. I’m going to run downstairs and thank Donna, and then probably go to bed. Don’t stay up too late. Even though it’s not a school night, you need your rest.”

“Okay mommy, good night,” they said in unison as I scurried downstairs.

Donna opened the door and we pushed our bodies together in a passionate kiss and began to grope each other.

“I want to know every little detail but first I need both of us to be naked so that I can get my hands and mouth on any parts of either one of us without obstruction,” I blurted out.

—- Donna —-

When the girls left I was tingling and excited, wishing I had taught them how to give me an orgasm, so I took off my clothes and lay down on my bed, and was just going to frig myself with one of the fingers that had enjoyed the girls’ young pussies, when the doorbell rang.

I would have been disappointed when the doorbell rang, but I thought I knew who it would be, so I hopped out of bed and only put a light robe on to answer. Sure enough, it was Clare, and the sparkle in her eye told me that she was pleased with her daughters’ first lesson.

After our initial kiss and mutual grope, she opened her robe to reveal her naked body, and I dropped my little robe too as we made our way to my bed, where I had so recently been pleasuring her two young daughters.

As we played with each other’s pussies and breasts, exchanging frequent wet kisses, I told her in detail about how Melinda and Leslie had responded when I began my instruction. Clare was not surprised that Leslie, though only nine years old, had been the first to respond with enthusiasm. Melinda, though twelve, had always been the more reticent of the two girls, and was nearing that teen age when they become more independent and not as trustful of adults as when they were “mere children.”

But, as you will have learned if you read Part 3 of this narrative, they both responded enthusiastically once the “ice was broken,” so to speak.

Needless to say, I had not washed my hands since touching the girls’ sweet crevasses with my fingers, wanting to recapture the memory from the lingering pussy aroma. I let Clare sniff at my fingers and catch the scent of her daughters’ pussies, which she found exciting, her own pussy getting even wetter.

Clare and I then went into a sweet 69 together, with me on top, being the smaller of the two, digging my tongue into her delicious cunt, and feeling the sweet slurping of Melinda’s loving tongue inside the lips of my freely flowing vagina. She had a way of separating both sets of lips with her fingers, then moving her tongue to slide from the bottom of my slit right up to my clitoris, which throbbed with orgasmic delight at the way she strummed it and sucked on it.

All too soon Clare reluctantly removed her mouth from my cunt, and said she had to go back upstairs to kiss the girls goodnight. I suggested that she leave my pussy juice on her mouth so the girls would taste and smell it, thus learning that their dear mother was not ignorant of the sweet lessons they were learning.

We agreed that the next time the girls came for a lesson, I would allow them to explore my pussy and learn how to lick an adult into an orgasm such as we had both just enjoyed. I couldn’t wait to taste their sweet cunnies again and to have their young fingers and mouths exploring my glory hole(s) (well, that last would have to come later).

I told Clare to be sure to allow plenty of sexual innuendo in her conversations with the girls, and to be sure to flash them with as much of her body as she could, so they would begin to desire their mother in the same way their mother desired them.

It would be several days before I could be alone with Melinda and Leslie again, so I was wondering what would go on in the apartment upstairs in the meantime. I was sure Clare would tell me.

—- Clare —-

I wasn’t disappointed a bit about Donna’s report of what had transpired between her and my little girls. It was even more than I had imagined, and it aroused the two of us to a frenzy of licking and sucking. After our initial groping and kissing and holding, we settled in for some 69 and mutually soothed ourselves with each other’s tongues and lips.

After a bit though, I thought I’d better get back up stairs and say goodnight to the girls. Donna had a great idea not to wash my face of Donna’s pussy juice and delicious scent before kissing the girls, to see what would happen.

”Hey, how’s the movie?” I asked as I came back into the apartment.

“Oh, its great mom, thanks for getting it a making popcorn.”

“Sure, I’m going to turn in. Give us a kiss.”

I bent down and put my lips on Melinda’s first. I hadn’t tied my robe back tightly when I put it on downstairs so it opened when I bent over. She didn’t say anything but she did sniff a couple of times while she was kissing me. When I got to Leslie though, she didn’t hesitate.

“Mommy you smell like Donna and you’re not wearing any clothes under the robe. Did she give you a lesson while you were down there?”

“Maybe we got to kissing and I found myself giving her kisses down below.”

“Then, you’re ahead of us mommy. We haven’t done any of that yet. Gee, you’re really pretty mommy without clothes on.”

“Oh, do you think so?” and I opened my robe fully to show them by body. “I expect kissing down below is coming up for you though the next time you get together with her. Good night and don’t stay up too late.” I didn’t bother to close my robe as I said good night to them and I felt both of them staring after me.

*** The rest of the week I did my best to follow Donna’s instructions about sexually teasing the girls. When I was able to get together with her for a catch up, I told her about my week with the girls, starting with the open robe the night I came up after our great loving. We were alone in the house, Thom and the girls were out grocery shopping. As soon as they left, I came downstairs.

When we didn’t know how long we might be alone, or when my family might be coming home, we had gotten into the habit of stripping down to our panties and T’s without bras so that I could get dressed really quickly by just throwing on shorts or sweats, depending upon the weather. This day we were snuggled under a stadium blanket on her sofa with a hand in each others pants, slowly caressing our sweet spots. We wanted to draw out our arousal as long as possible before we satisfied our urges.

I had lots of juicy stories to tell Donna about what I had done with the girls that I think was awakening their interest in me. One of the juiciest happened the afternoon after exposing myself with the robe, I asked them to come to my room so that I could get their opinion about some really sexy lingerie set I had bought. I told them that I had bought it for their father’s benefit, but I had no intention of showing it to him at all. I hadn’t put it on when I asked them in. I had on my business clothes so my undressing would be a big production.

I sat down on the bed and slipped off my heels while I unbuttoned my blouse. The skirt I had selected that day was particularly short and I went out of my way to hike it up as I sat on the bed. Quite a bit of the darker top of my panty hose was showing and I made a point of spreading my legs open facing Melinda, thinking that she would be the toughest case to arouse.

I unbuttoned my skirt and, rising slightly, pushed it over my hips and slowly down my legs and over my hose covered feet. This left me in my bra and panty hose and a tiny little thong that you couldn’t yet really see through the hose. Next I removed the bra, releasing my breasts from their bondage and caressing them, saying that it felt really good to be out of a bra. I snaked my fingers down into the waist of my panty hose and pushed them over my hips. Raising my legs, one at a time, I pulled off my hose.

Finally, standing, I put my clothes away wearing only my thong. Then at the last minute, I pushed the thong down and tossed it into the dirty clothes hamper. The girls and I had been engaging in small talk about school and friends, but with each item I removed, I noticed that they had less and less to say and that their breathing was becoming kind of labored. I took the sexy underwear out of it bag and put it on.

It was red, satiny, and skimpy. The panties were not much more than the thong I had on and the bra consisted of mostly the bottom cups so that lots of cleavage was showing at the top. Just to push the slut look a bit further, I slipped my high heels back on and walked around modeling for them. By this time they were silent and I’m pretty sure that I caught both of them pushing their crotches with their hands when they thought I wasn’t looking.

They both complimented me on the outfit, saying it was really sexy and they thought dad would be ape over it. Then they both hurried off to their room and closed the door. I snuck up to it and could hear rustling and little girl gasps and whinnies so I think they were getting themselves off.

By this time in our conversation, Donna and I WERE getting ourselves off and it was just in the nick of time as they say because we heard the car in the driveway.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Donna and Thom

—- Clare —-

I was resolved when I went back upstairs to our half of the duplex that I was going to seduce my daughters, or that I would engage Donna to help me seduce my daughters, into a sexual relationship with her and me. I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen just yet, but I knew that was to be the goal I was going to strive for. My sexual encounter with Donna had been terrific, and I learned from it that it was young girls I was interested in, her being very much like one, and that my daughters were the ones I wanted to start with.

The more I thought about it, I knew I was right that I needed to get to my two daughters and teach them about loving and relationships between girls before they had a chance to form opinions regarding relationships with boys. Besides falling in love with Donna, I was also realizing that she would be the perfect person to help me get what I wanted with my daughters.

I had to wait a little bit for a time when I was alone with the girls and my husband Thom wasn’t at home, and wouldn’t be for awhile, in case my kids decided to grill me about what I had in mind. That opportunity came about one Friday evening the following week when Thom was away at a boy’s poker game. The two girls (Melinda is the 12 year old and Leslie the 9 year old) and I had ordered a pizza and were planning to watch a movie. Between the pizza and the movie, I brought up my idea.

“Listen, I’ve been talking to our neighbor Donna about her teaching at the all-girls’ school. She teaches sex education for one thing, and they teach the girls different things than you learn at the public school.”

“Like what kinds of things?” my youngest asked. She’s always been the most curious of the two. I think Melinda could go through life letting it all wash over her. Maybe she would make a good Buddhist, but I’ve been hoping she would get more engaged.

“Well, particularly in the sex-ed part of the class, since it’s all girls anyway, they are able to explore topics about how girls can love each other and make each other feel good using sexual techniques—that girls know what girls like way more than boys or men ever will.”

“Do you mean like lesbo things Mom?” from my youngest. I gathered I was going to just have this conversation with Leslie and whatever happened, we would just be bringing Melinda along for the ride.

“Well, lesbianism is a lifestyle and it’s a bit early for you to be deciding about that. I’m talking about your sexual life—something that you must already have some experience with, and that you will continue to have until you decide about lifetime partners and stuff like that.”

“Oh, this is about jacking off, playing with ourselves,” said Melinda whom I thought had been totally comatose.

“Yes, that’s right. It’s all about sex, not partners or lifestyles.” I was sort of amazed that this was going as well as it was, in the direction I had hoped it would go. I was anxious to see how this next part would be received.

“So, Donna says that she would be willing to spend time with you two, showing you the things that she show’s her classes at school, only she would be able to be more hands-on than they are there. I mean at school she is only able to describe stuff. With you two, she would be able to teach you actual technique, the real thing so that you would know if it were working right.”

“Like when we play with ourselves Mommy?” The littlest one asked, getting back into the conversation and giving me hope that this was going to work out.

“Yes, something like that. You both do play with yourselves then?”

“Sure Mommy, we both do.”

“And what about together? Have you ever done it at the same time?”

“Gees no, Mommy, not at the same time,” said Melinda in a bit of a disgusted voice, leaving me to believe the togetherness I had in mind might be a hard sell, but knowing what I know about the addictiveness of sex, a little bit of pleasure would probably dissipate any objection that might originally arise.

“Okay then, it’s settled. One evening a week, probably a night that Daddy is out, so he doesn’t interfere with what we hope to accomplish, you will visit Donna downstairs and she will spend some time with you teaching you a few things.”

“Sure thing, Mommy,” Melinda said, “can we watch the movie now?”

—- Donna —-

When Clare told me about the conversation she had had with Melinda and Leslie, I was overjoyed. I had been noticing the girls more and more lately, and wishing I could do with them some of the things I imagined doing with the girls at school.

Clare was in the middle of sucking my pussy when she told me the news, and I gushed and came harder than I can ever remember in response to her news as well as her licking. She brought her wet, slippery face up to mine then, and we kissed, sealing the bargain that I would teach her daughters how to enjoy sex between girls and women.

The following Friday I could hardly contain myself as I heard the girls tripping down the stairs and knocking on the door to my apartment. I had needed to consume a couple of gin and tonics to loosen myself up and overcome some of my own inhibitions, so I felt relaxed and happy as I went to the door.

I had purposely dressed in an old set of “Baby Doll” pajamas with a thin top and tight panties that clung to my body and revealed my womanly figure. I was pleased to note that the girls were also lightly dressed, with t-shirts and sweet little girl panties of cotton that also clung to their tight little bottoms and revealed them in all their glory.

I offered the girls a coke, and as they sipped their libations, I sat down on the couch between them. Leslie, the less inhibited of the two, scrunched right up against me, letting me put my arm around her. Melinda was a little more stand-offish, staying closer to her end of the couch.

“So,” I said, “Your mother tells me she wants you to learn more about the fun girls and women can have together with sex. Did I understand her correctly?”

Melinda just sort of nodded her head, shy about acknowledging any interest, but Leslie put her little face right up against my breast, looked up at me and said, “Gosh, Donna, I would love to know more about getting the good feelings I have when I play with myself down here.” With that, she put her hand on her plump little pubic mound and ran her fingers lightly over herself. I could feel a shiver go through her body.

Seeing her sister being so free in my presence, Melinda shifted slightly, and I could see that her bottom was undulating a little even though she didn’t say anything. I urged her to move closer to me, and when she did, I put my other arm around her and lightly stroked her bare arm with my fingers. This seemed to relax her, and the twelve year old leaned in against my breast just as her younger sister had done.

I noticed that Leslie continued stroking her panty-clad pussy with her fingers, and when she saw me staring, she jumped up and said, “Do you want to see my cunny, Donna?”

Before I could respond, Melinda said, “Silly! That’s not your cunny, it is your vagina. Isn’t that right, Donna?”

“Well,” I said, “You are both right, in a manner of speaking. Vagina is the proper term, the scientific term, if you will. We prefer to call it our pussy though, because that sounds more feminine and inviting, sort of like a little kitty with its soft fur, which our pubic hair often feels and looks like. On the other hand, once a woman has grown up and had sex with men or other women, it is sometimes referred to as a cunt, hence the word for a little cunt can be cunny.”

“I don’t have any hair down there, replied Leslie, see?”

And jumping up, she pulled down her panties and revealed her bare, puffy little pubic mound, so delicious looking, almost like a peach.

“My, Leslie,” I sighed, “You do have a beautiful cunny. I bet it feels good when you play with it. Show me how you do it.”

Leslie eagerly took a finger and rubbed it up and down her little slit, revealing tiny lips that spread to accommodate her little finger. I could see that her finger was well lubricated by her young-girl pussy juice.

Not to be outdone, Melinda jumped up and pulled off her panties and showed me that she had a nice crop of pubic hair that thinly covered her vagina. It was so beautiful I almost gasped. “My, Melinda, you do have a lovely pussy. You know, it goes with your name: Melinda means beautiful honey, and your pussy looks sweet enough to eat just like honey on a piece of white bread.”

Leslie looked enviously at her sister, so I thought I should give her a little encouragement too. “Any you, my sweet Leslie—if Melinda is the honey, you are the butter! I would love to spread your butter on my bread and then have your sister put her honey on top of it.”

Both girls giggled at my joke, and I took advantage of the moment to reach out and pull them closer to me, standing right next to each other, their thighs and hips touching, my hands on their little rumps (well Melinda’s wasn’t quite so little anymore!)

I took each girl’s hand and moved it to the other’s pussy and encouraged them to stroke each other, which they did without hesitation, both expert in pussy stroking from their experience with stroking their own pussies.

I was mesmerized by the sight of the girls manipulating each other’s vaginal lips, sliding their fingers up and down the slits and beginning to get into a loving undulation that brought them both closer to me.

My fingers worked around their buttocks and after caressing the roundness of their ass cheeks, I let my fingers trail down the creases and under their bottoms to feel the moisture that their fingers were creating.

Melinda was wetter than Leslie, being the older one, and since her body was more developed I found my way into her vagina without much difficulty, letting my finger take the place of hers, which then moved to the top of her slit to stroke her little clitoris.

It didn’t take long for Melinda to collapse in a heap against me, her head landing on my breast where I left it while I continued to stroke her pussy and to take my hand out of Leslie’s little cunny so I could hug Melinda closer to me.

Leslie seemed disappointed when my finger left her cleft, but then she brightened when I pulled her to me also, and pushed her face against my breast, covered only by thin pajama material. Her little hands flew under the material and pushed it up to reveal my mammaries to both girls, who instinctively began sucking on them as they had their mother’s breast when they were younger.

I had Leslie lie flat on the couch and showed Melinda how to kiss her sister while I bent to lick her sweet little cunny until she shook in what was a young-girl orgasm that would grow as she did.

I decided that this was enough of a lesson for the first time and sent the girls up to their mother.

Continue on to Chapter 4

By Donna and Thom

—- Clare —-

After realizing how intense my fantasy about my downstairs neighbor had become, I became determined that I was going to figure out a way to spend some time with her to see if she felt the same way. I was wracking my brain to try to figure how to arrange to be home alone and to have some kind of an encounter with her, when something odd happened purely by accident. Thom, my husband, had taken the girls out school shopping. School had just started and they needed all kinds of supplies and of course clothes.

I had just gotten out of the shower and was drying off when I heard a knock at the door. I couldn’t imagine who it might be. I wrapped a towel around myself and went to the door. We have one of those little peep holes in the door so you can see who is there without opening it. I couldn’t believe my eyes, there was my downstairs neighbor knocking at my door.

She was dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of short-short nylon jogging briefs. I could see her little titty nubs pressing the T-shirt front. Her gangly legs were pale, her feet were bare. Her short blond hair was kind of spiky like maybe she hadn’t brushed it yet. I hadn’t gotten a good look at her eyes before now but I could see through the spy hole that they were a piercing blue.

Can this possibly be happening? I’m alone. Thom and the girls will be gone for a few hours. I’m nearly naked, just a skimpy towel wrapped around me. I mean if there is any chance that I’m going to seduce her, this would be it. I pressed my hand into my naked crotch to try to relieve some of the tension that I was experiencing just staring at her through the door.

“Hi,” I said, while opening the door. What’s up?”

“Oh, you were in the shower? Do you have water running over anywhere? I have water coming down in my kitchen, on the wall that would be below your bathroom. Did the water run over while you were showering?”

“I don’t think so. Let’s go look. I’m Clare by the way. I’m sorry I haven’t been down to welcome you to the house since you moved in. With schools starting and stuff it’s been so hectic.”

“Oh for me too. I’m Donna. Pleased to meet you. I did see you and the girls at the park pool at the end of the summer though. They are beautiful. How old are they?”

“Ah, 9 and 12. Thanks for saying so. I think they are precious but I’m their mother.”

We had walked into the house and were walking toward the bathroom.

“I don’t think I splashed any more water onto the floor than usual.”

The bathroom floor was really pretty dry. I guessed that it must be something more serious like the pipes behind the wall which didn’t make either one of us very happy. We would have to have plumbers out to tear out the walls.

“Hmm, maybe it will just go away,” I said hopefully. “Listen I was just about to make a cup of tea and have a muffin. I just baked them. Would you like to join me?”

“Oh, I’d love to. We’re you going to get dressed too or do you have tea in the nude?”

I figured this was the closest I was going to get to an invitation or an opportunity. I did hesitate a split second thinking maybe this woman would think I was a complete nut case but I didn’t hesitate long.

“Well, I would do it naked if you would because you look like you have a delicious body, but I’ll throw on a robe and get the water hot.”

I took off my towel in front of her and hung it on the towel bar. I hesitated a bit so that she could get a good view of my wares and started to walk to the bedroom to grab a robe. She followed me into the bedroom. I have pretty large breasts but they are still firm for someone who has had two kids and in my advanced age. I work our a lot to try to keep my tummy firm. My legs are long and pretty shapely. I keep the hair on my pussy trimmed but there is still a bit there.

“Well I don’t know about my body but I can see that yours IS delicious. Maybe we can discuss the state of our bodies some more over tea.”

I put a robe on but left it kind of loosely closed so that as I moved part of me would show. I was thinking that maybe there would be enough of a tease in that that she would grab the bait if she was going to. We walked back toward the kitchen and I put the water on the stove. We sat down at the table to have tea and I dished out two warm muffins from the tin.

Donna told me all about her job as a teacher at the girl’s school in town and how she had arrived from the East coast just recently to take the job. I was not at all paying any attention to keeping my robe closed and, in fact, I noticed that as I moved around while talking, it was opening more and more so that you could see quite a lot of my front if you were interested in seeing it.

We were sitting at the corner of the table and as we talked, it seemed to me that Donna’s legs were touching mine. And as I finally was certain the Donna’s legs were touching mine, I got the distinct impression that her bare feet were resting on top of my bare feet and maybe even stroking my leg.

—- Donna —-

When I got home from work, pictures of young girls dancing in my wee little head, I immediately shucked off my work clothes and slipped into my running shorts and a T-shirt. Then I went to the kitchen to fix myself some coffee. I was surprised to discover water on the floor that had splashed on the counter and run off in drips. I looked up and it seemed to be coming from upstairs. I decided I needed to go up and check with my neighbor.

When she answered my knock I was surprised to see she was dressed only in a bath towel wrapped around her quite-shapely body, her breasts swelling out from the top of the towel. She welcomed me, and I apologized for disturbing what had obviously been her bath time.

I told her about the water on my kitchen counter and floor, and she said she wasn’t aware of a leak, but we went to her bathroom and couldn’t find any place that looked like it was leaking. Apparently it would take a plumber to resolve the problem. Clare said she’d let her husband Thom take care of it when he got home from shopping with the girls.

She excused herself to go put something on after I kidded her about staying nude for our visit. We both laughed about the obvious joke, and as she left to go into her bedroom she let the towel slip off and I got a good look at her well-developed and lovely rounded backside.

She was back in a flash with a loosely fitted robe on, and as we sat down to coffee and freshly baked muffins, I noticed that she didn’t bother to pull the robe tight, which left a lot of her luscious body for me to glance at whenever I thought she might not notice.

We visited back and forth, telling each other a little about our lives. She was interested in knowing that I was from the East, which was something of a mystery to her Midwest upbringing. She told me that she and Thom had been married for fourteen years, and that they had a good relationship, both enjoying their daughters and doing lots of things as a family.

I said I envied her, and hoped I might find such a match, but that I had found most men too egotistical and self-centered for me. I much prefer the company of women. I asked her if she had ever had that well-known “seven-year itch,” and she said that they had both gone through times of wishing they were free to pursue their own interests, but so far had been content to “keep it in the family,” a phrase I found to be intriguing in its own right.

As we chatted, I noticed that she became more and more casual about letting her robe hang open, until I was gazing unashamedly at her bare body, her neatly trimmed pussy and her rosy-tipped breasts, tantalizingly exposed to me. I became adventurous and let my leg lean in toward hers and my bare foot come to rest on her bare foot, moving slightly up her leg.

We both endured an embarrassed silence, and then I stood up and said maybe I should be going. She also stood up, letting her robe continue to hang open, and she gave me a hug, saying how happy she was that we had met.

I’m not sure what happened next, but my breasts were pressed against Clare’s, and I could feel her body moving against mine in a sensuous sway that ignited my fires and made my pussy tingle and begin to spurt. Her hands came around my body and stroked my back, running down to my ass cheeks, caressing them and pushing my running shorts down to my thighs.

She moved her face toward my face and her lips were on mine in a warm and loving kiss before I was fully aware of what was going on. That’s as far as we got, because the sound of a car in the driveway revealed that her husband and daughters were arriving home.

—- Clare —-

Once I became fully aware that it was Donna’s bare foot rubbing my leg, the touch was electrical. I was stunned frozen and silent. Two thoughts were turning over and over in my mind; this couldn’t have worked out better if I had planned it and what do I do now?

It seemed like an eternity of embarrassed silence for me and it must have been for her too because she stood to say good bye and leave. I began to thank her for coming by giving her a hug but once my body got close to hers, I realized I wouldn’t be able to let go. My robe was completely open and I pressed her clothed body into my naked one, pushing our breasts and sex together.

I felt Donna respond to my touch and instinct took over. I moved my hands down her back. I caressed her bum over her shorts and then snaked my hands into the waist band and pushed them down. With only a built-in nylon liner in them, my hands were caressing her bare ass. I pushed our pussies toward each other and pressed my mouth onto hers.

It was then we heard my husband and the girls drive into the driveway.

“Shit, not now,” I said. “Quick, let’s go down the front stairs. They will be coming in the back. I’ll call them from your place and tell them where I am.”

Donna pulled up her pants and I pulled my robed closed around me. We grabbed each other’s hand and bolted out the front door and down the flight of stairs. Just as we closed her door behind us, we heard the back door opening and my family enter the house and tromp up the stairs.

“I’ll call them in a minute after they’ve noticed I’m gone. In the meantime, is it ok with you if we pick up from where we left off and see where that might lead?”

The look in Donna’s eyes was all I needed to know that she was in agreement. She had entered her apartment first and I had pushed the door closed with my back to it. I let my robe fall off of my shoulders and I pulled Donna toward me. When I got my arms around her back, I pulled her T-shirt over her head and then pushed her shorts back down her thighs baring her ass and pussy again.

After finishing the kiss that we had begun upstairs; sloppy probing tongues, lip biting, sensuous, I knelt down in front of her. Her pussy was exactly as I had imagined it to be—cleanly shaved and little-girl-like. I buried my nose and mouth in her slit and began to work my tongue toward her sweet spot. I put my hands on her butt, letting the tips of my fingers fold into her crack. Donna arched her back, leaning in toward me and put her hands on the back of my head to guide my lips home.

Donna’s breathing quickened and I could feel her thighs tighten on my fingers as she shuddered to a climax. I stopped my licking and sucking and just held her middle tightly between my face and my hands until her convulsions ceased.

“I need to call upstairs before they call the police and report me missing. It’s not like me to leave without a note.”

“Right, the phone is over here.”

She helped me up and led me over to the den. I stood at the desk and dialed my apartment number. Donna snuggled up behind me, pressing her front to my back. I could feel her titty nubs and pussy mound pressing on me. She began to caress my breasts with one hand while the other was across my thigh, between my legs, probing my sex with her fingers. By the time my daughter came to the phone, I was panting, thinking more about my own pending orgasm than what I was going to say to her.

“Ah, hi hon. Oh, I’m sorry I had you all worried. Listen I’m downstairs. The new neighbor came up because some water from someplace is leaking in her kitchen. I’ll be up in a couple of minutes and tell you all about it. I want to see what you guys bought. Bye hon.”

When I put down the receiver, I turned around toward Donna without interrupting what she was busy doing to my sex. I cupped both of her breasts in my hands, covered her mouth with mine and came in waves that seemed to go on forever.

—- Donna —-

When I heard the car outside I thought my heavenly fantasy was going to end, but Clare was quick witted enough to suggest we slip down to my apartment so we could continue where we had been so abruptly interrupted. As we managed to close the door to my apartment we heared the family tromping up the stairs. Clare said she’d have to call and let them know where she was, but before she could reach the phone she reached me, and shucking her robe, grabbed onto me in a loving hug. As our bodies pressed together she proceeded to strip me and go down on me, licking and sucking my bare pussy with all of her might. I practically swooned into a wonderful orgasm.

While Clare spoke on the phone to her family, I ran my hands over her body, and began returning the favor by licking and kissing around her body, sucking on her luscious nips and working down to lick her juicy cunt and run my tongue along the crack of her ass. She began to shudder as she returned the phone to its cradle, and her orgasm on my mouth filled me with more than pleasure—it was creamy pleasure.

After her cum was over, she declared that she would have to leave me, but before she did, she startled me by saying something entirely out of context.

“You know,” she said. “I don’t understand it, but when I heard my daughter’s voice on the phone your kisses and licks turned me on more than I had ever felt before. Do you think that it would be terrible to teach my girls something about lady love so they could learn at an early age before they are damaged by falling in love with men?”

After I closed my mouth, which gaped at what she was saying (though I continued to lick her sweet cum juice from my lips), I told her that I was at least as turned on by the idea of sex with her girls as I was with my fast growing love for her.

The seed had been planted… do you suppose it will grow?

—- Clare —-

I was resolved when I went back upstairs to our apartment that I was going to seduce my daughters, or that I would engage Donna to help me seduce my daughters into a sexual relationship with her and me. I wasn’t sure how that was going to happen just yet, but I knew that was the goal I was going to strive for. My sexual encounter with Donna had been terrific and I learned from it that it was young girls I was interested in, her being very much like one, and that my daughters were the ones I wanted to start with.

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Donna and Thom

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in November 2005 }

—- Clare —-

The twenty-something woman who lives downstairs has a childlike body. She is short, under 5 feet. I first got a good look at her at the pool in a two-piece: no tits to speak of as if they started to nub and then their growth arrested, just nipples I suspect, gangly legs though and a pert, curvy little butt. Willing, she could help me legally live out a fantasy.

She means to get up at 5:30 but her alarm starts to go off at 5:00. It sounds like a car alarm. She hits the snooze six times, getting 5 more minutes each time. Five minutes of what? Can she really be going back to sleep between the alarms? It seems she must though because the alarm belts out at least a dozen yelps before she hits it again. Finally, at 5:30 she’s up.

I imagine her sleeping naked but if not she’s thrown the nightgown off and pushed her panties to the floor on the way to the bathroom. The fan goes on immediately followed by the tub water. She’s peeing as the water warms and then the shower is engaged. A ten minute shower, very succinct I think. Just the important parts and washing her spiky blond hair. She is very tidy about her person, her body hair is like fuzz on a peach so she likely keeps her mound cleanly shaven. Maybe her soapy hand hesitates there during the shower but I think not; it’s only my fantasy that it would or my hand that would if I were showering with her.

Shower is turned off, a quick dry. Back in the bedroom, closet door opens. She’s definitely naked now. A peek in the mirror? Is she disappointed about her tits, her little girl body? Does she wish she would grow up?

I don’t. I have to touch myself but quietly so I don’t wake my husband.

Clothes are out on the bed. A drawer opens, under clothes no doubt. Panties on. Must only be a camisole for the top, couldn’t be a bra, not necessary. Out to the kitchen. News channel is on. A piece of toast, juice. Out the door just before 6:00.

I wish I could get back to sleep but it’s time to get up. I get out of bed and turn off the alarm so I can have a few minutes to myself. I pick yesterday’s panties off of the pile of clothes on a chair and head for the spare room. On the way I scoop pussy juice out of my vagina with the fingers of my left hand and smear it on my face. I need to smell pussy, it increases my arousal.

I lie on the bed in the spare room and try to get my feet spread over the edge of either side. I want my cunt to be as wide open as it can be. I push vigorously on my labia, trying to satisfy the ache coming from my engorged clit.

The crotch of yesterday’s panties are over my nose. Yesterday’s pungent smell mixed with today’s ripe pussy juices, delicious. The pinkie of my still-wet left hand is in my mouth; it’s her clit that I’m licking and sucking as she straddles my face, my nose at the top of her bare mound, smelling the perfume of her sex, my sex, our sex.

She comes and I spin her around, top to bottom so that she can enjoy my bottom as much as I’m enjoying hers. Her mouth easily finds my erect sex poking out of its hiding place, my labia opened wide with my legs spread apart. I now have her back hole available to me. It needs to be kissed, licked, probed with a free finger. My mouth is back on her sex, not missing a beat of the rhythm that we’ve built up. I come. She comes again.

She spins end to end this time. I pull my feet up to my butt and welcome her between my legs. She arches her back and the lips of our sex meet in a passionate kiss. We press them together like the kiss of lovers that have been apart for a long time. Then our hips begin to move in opposite motions, stimulating our sweet spots that are ripe for closure. We pant, we gasp, we scream.

Only I bite my tongue so that I don’t alert my family to my orgasm that comes in waves and waves. One hand is pinching my bare clit the other is stuffed into my vagina nearly up to my wrist, a trailing finger is caressing my rosebud.

I’ve soaked the bed, a stain over a foot in diameter is under my bum. I get up quickly and spread out the afghan that is folded at the bottom of the bed so that the evidence of my desiring my neighbor is concealed.

I passed the girls’ rooms to the bathroom to pee and ran some soap and water over my face—back to the bedroom to kiss my husband awake. We must have forgotten to set the alarm again I tell him; it’s a few minutes after six. Let’s get a shower before we have to get the girls up.

He wanders off in a stupor to the bathroom. I follow behind slowly though, entering each of the girls’ rooms to be close to them as the aura of my morning’s fantasy subsides. Is it them I want to be with? Is it someone their age? one of their friends? Another morning passes without any answers.

I touch their hair, their backs, and their chests as they lie sleeping and then I go off to join my husband in the shower. Thanks to my neighbor downstairs, another day will pass before I have to decide.

Do you suppose she might come up for a muffin the next time my family goes out on an outing and leaves me alone?

—- Donna —-

I had just moved into a duplex with a downstairs and an upstairs. My name is Donna, and I am 22, just out of college and teaching at a girls’ school in a small town in Iowa. I am what is called “petite,” about 5 feet tall, and a slim but well-shaped body. Some people still think I am just a teenager and I get carded whenever I order a drink.

I love my job, but I hate getting up in the morning because it is so early. I set my alarm for 5:00 a.m. but seldom roll out of bed before 5:30, and then have to hurry to get ready in time to not be late for my job.

I usually sleep in a T-shirt and panties, but sometimes I push my panties down during the night and play with myself when I have had a sexy dream. One of my dreams is about the woman who lives upstairs with her husband and two young girls. I have seen them out in the pool, and they are all very good looking. My pussy tingles when I look at the young girls, and I wouldn’t mind finding out what their mother tastes like either.

But I digress.

I run into the bathroom and release my night’s worth of pee while the shower is heating up. I wash my body thoroughly, taking pains to be sure my vaginal and anal areas are clean, rubbing a bar of soap into each crack and enjoying the sensations it gives me. I also love playing with my breasts until the nipples are hard and tingly.

I run back into my bedroom, not bothering to cover myself since I am alone and no one can see me, except that when I open my closet door and catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirror I can’t help but admire my small girl-shaped body and wish I had larger breasts.

I dress hurriedly, not bothering with a bra and selecting a pair of silky thin panties that let me imagine I am bare underneath. I keep hoping one of my students will notice and let me know she is interested in joining me for a little extra-curricular activity.

I don’t usually have time for much breakfast, so I heat up a pop-tart, pour a cup of coffee from my timed coffee maker (if I remembered to set it the night before) and take them with me to my car, which will hopefully start right away. It can be cantankerous when the weather is cold.

As I leave the building I notice my upstairs neighbor looking out her window at me. She is wearing a diaphanous nightgown that reveals her large breasts and just the shadow of her pubic hair as the sun beams into her window. She waves in a friendly way, and smiles at me, apparently not at all aware of how sexy she looks framed in the morning sun, her body tempting to look at.

All the way to school I am thinking about my neighbor and wondering if she has any interest in female sex, since she has a husband and two lovely daughters.

During the day I notice several of my students gazing at me as though they wonder what I look like undressed, and I catch one girl actually playing with herself under her desk.

I am sure this will be an interesting year at school, and possibly at home as well.

Continue on to Chapter 2

By Gladys Stoatpamphlet

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in November 2008 }

The snow fairy drifted down between the snowflakes. She danced amidst the storm wild and free. Her exquisite form was near invisible to mortal eyes, being mostly transparent with white accentuations against a starless sky. She was more spirit than matter, more dream than snow. The biting cold wind lashed across her naked body deliciously. Her white tipped translucent breasts stood out hard against the winter wind enjoying its caress. Her slim body was naked and perfect and her butterfly wings of frost stretched out into the night to merge with the swirling whiteness. Even she did not truly know where the storm ended and she began, nor did she care. Her thoughts were much more carnal in nature. She flit about in the air grabbing the occasional flake which she pressed between her legs. The cold of the snow woke her center of pleasure and while it lasted it was as if she held a star of bliss in her hands. But no snowflake could last for very long and she constantly sought more and better sensations. She was driven by her nature and in her nature she found her delight.

Like most fairies her hunger for pleasure was matched by an insatiable curiosity. Flitting about on the night airs she finally saw the lone cabin. It was set into a hill halfway down its Eastern face. The hill protected it from the worst of the wind and storm and a soft amber glow came leaked from the cracks in its shutters. There was something else about it that drew her, some resonance of power. She circled slowly down. Her clit ached with freezing cold bliss and her nipples cut the cold night air as she descended.

When she got close to the cabin she perceived the power that rested on top of it. There was an ice elemental curled about the eaves and draped across the edges of the roof. A cold power radiated from the clinging ice. Circling in low she looked for its head. In and among the icicles she flitted until one hissed at her in the silent language of her kind. There in a long thick icicle she saw the ice nymph. Her long serpentine body of ice was draped along the edges of the roof, intertwined with the icicles she inhabited. In the large icicle in front of the fairy the nymph’s head and torso resided. Her pale blue features would be almost impossible to discern from the ice itself with mortal eyes, but to the fairy she was plainly visible. Not to mention extremely sexy. Her hair was ice white and her face was formed in imitation of the Goddess of Winter, making her surpassingly beautiful. She winked seductively at the fairy and licked her lips with her snake-like tongue.

The fairy zipped across the winter air and wrapped her legs around the icicle, grinding her needy sex into the ice. So great was her desire that the icicle began to melt where she touched it. The nymph responded with her own passion and slipped her hand through the melt water by the fairy’s nether lips and then past them, shoving her icy fingers deep into the snow fairy’s ethereal quim. The cold power of the nymph sent pleasure echoing through the fairy’s form, and the night sky responded with a flurry of white flakes. Her head dipped into the ice, passing through its solid surface with no more difficulty than a mortal would feel slipping into bathwater. The nymph sought out the fairy’s lips and they came together in a hungry kiss. Their nipples crushed together, their tongues entered each other’s mouths, and the nymph slid her full hand into her new lover. The fairy quivered in ecstasy and pushed down, driving the nymph’s hand and arm deep within her. Delighted in her children’s lust the Goddess smiled, Wind howled his encouragement, and Night paused to watch. The temperature dropped quickly.

Then, just as the two elemental spirits were about to begin a truly momentous winter fuck something strange occurred. The sound of a small bell rang out and in its voice there was a power that pulled at the awareness of both nymph and fairy. They paused. There was a scent in the wind that spoke to them of Life and power, and a silence within the wind they could not ignore. “What is that?” asked the fairy.

“I do not know,” replied the nymph. “But it drew me here just as the sun was setting. There is some power in this place, something within this tiny house that is of Life’s kingdom but knows the ways of Shadow too.”

“Should we go look?” asked the fairy as she gripped her new lover’s hand deep within her.

“I was afraid to go alone,” said the nymph. She wiggled her fingers inside the fairy and nipped at her nipples. “But I will go if you go with me.”

“Ooohhhhh, that’s nice,” the fairy sighed. Her new lover was so strong and powerful, so beautiful and cold. She knew this nymph could fuck her until her wings fell off and she yearned for such brutal ecstasy. But the silence left in her mind by the bell echoed on and would give her no peace. “How, aahhhhh, how would we get inside?”

The nymph chuckled. “Almost as easy as it was to get inside you my slutty little fairy.” She sucked hard at the little fairy’s tit, eliciting more gasps of pleasure. “Look below, the window is ajar.”

They both craned their heads downwards. Just as the nymph had claimed there was a window, an actual glass paned window, and it was open at the bottom. Only an inch or two of space existed but to the two semi-material girls it may as well have been a chasm. They exchanged a look of shared curiosity and need. They kissed while the nymph slid her hand out of the fairy and purred together as the nymph wiped the fairy’s wetness all over both their skins, coating them both in a frost of sex. Reluctantly the fairy pulled free of the ice nymph’s embrace and detached herself from her icy lover. She drifted down upon the air and landed on the window’s ledge. There she perched, tucked into the corner while she waited. Down her lover slithered, extending down along her long icy tail. The fairy watched her move in awe and lust. The nymph was neither snake nor glacier but her nature bespoke of both and the strength with which she pushed the world aside and froze everything that came in her path caused the fairy to ache with desire for her. Flowing down the window frame the nymph drew herself down to her lover’s side. She saw the look of hopeless lust on the fairy’s face and smiled wickedly. Upside down she preened herself, arching her back and letting her snow-frost hair hang low. She turned to best display the body she had crafted, her full firm breasts and rigid nipples, her smooth waist and full sweeping hips that gave way to a mouthwatering heart-shaped bottom. Between the cheeks of that bottom the fairy knew there was a set of sweet holes she could completely lose herself in. Her lips parted, her tongue slipping out in unconscious need. Oh how delicious it would be to dig into the nymphs subzero depths! She knew it would be something of a challenge to get there, after all the nymph was much more powerful than she was and would probably not let her have a taste until she herself had first fed, and there was a small complication in that the nymph could not spread her legs. She didn’t have any. Her legs vanished at the top of her thighs blending into a long frozen tail of ice that extended up to and encircled the roof. Every icicle on the roof was a part of her, and possibly much more beyond that. Her tail probably extended all the way to the nearest lake.

The nymph gazed at the tasty fairy through half lowered lids and said, “After we find this damn bell I’m going to consume you utterly. Your pussy is mine child. I’m going to drag you back to my lake by your tits and freeze you from the inside out.”

Unthinkingly the fairy took a step towards her. “Yes,” she panted. “Use me as you like Cold Mistress. Only, let me taste your Arctic cunt as you consume me.”

The nymph reached out seized the fairy’s tit in a tight grip. “Taste it? Foolish little fairy, once I press you within my tail I will draw your face to my pussy and your lips will never leave my frozen clit. Never. All that will be left of you will be two little wings of snow sticking up out of my ice.”

“Oooohhhhhh, Mistress,” the fairy sighed in passion. “Oh yes Mistress. Yes, please. Please …” But whatever she was going to say next was cut off as the crystalline sound of the bell rippled out into the world again. Here, on the window’s ledge, its voice was much stronger, and both of them forgot what they were saying as it swept their thoughts aside, briefly filled them with its metallic perfection, then faded into nothingness.

They clung to each other in the silence of its passage. Together they strained to look within the room but of course they could not see past the veil of glass. To them it was like trying to look through a rushing river to see the ground beneath. Steeling herself the nymph said, “Are you ready then little one?”

The fairy pressed herself back against the nymph. She pushed her tiny bum into her lover’s tummy and leaned back into her thrusting tits. Reaching back she wrapped her arms about the nymph’s neck and her legs around her icy tail. Her wings folded around the nymph like a cocoon. Her head fell back and she looked up at her lover’s face in adoration. “Anywhere with you Mistress.”

“You are brave, little fairy.” Her arms encircled the clinging sprite, one hand taking hold of a small pointed tit and the other sliding down to slip a finger into the fairy’s hungry wetness. “Come then little one, we will go together.” And with that they dove through the window’s gap.

On the inside window sill they froze in fear. There was Fire in this room. Not in the hearth, thank the Goddess, the logs there were black and cold, although they echoed with the memory of burning. But above that, on the mantle, there were three candles. Each was lit. Each held a tiny flame of gold at its top, a single finger of light and heat each of which contained the infinite potential and limitless hunger of Fire. “Mistress…” the fairy whined in a fearful voice.

But suddenly the nymph laughed. “Look you sister, the flame is bound! This Fire is no threat to us.” And indeed it was true. The three flames stood perfectly still without flickering or swaying. The voices of the flames were silent, their hunger muted. They barely breathed.

Seeing this the fairy too laughed. “Oh Mistress, how wonderful! Let’s fornicate in their light and mock them.”

“Hold precious. We are not alone. There are humans here.”

True enough there were two humans in the room. Sitting on the floor before the cold hearth, draped in a heavy fur, was a woman and a girl. Aside from the fur they were properly naked, a fact the fairy noted with approval. She also noted their kinship. She could smell the ties of blood that bound the two mortals together. The little one was obviously the child of the bigger one. Such a curious thing, the fairy thought as she pondered the mystery of human reproduction. But her musings were quickly forgotten as she caught the heady scent of sex. Rich, hot, humid, dripping mortal cunt was in this room. It’s scent washed over the snow fairy like a drug. Were it not for her lover’s grasp she would have flung herself across the room towards it.

“W… wait, wait little one. All is not right here.”

“Mistressssss!” whined the fairy. “Can you not smell them?” She inhaled deeply. “Oh, Goddess of Winter I can smell them both.” She scented the air like a dog. “Mmmmmmnnn, yes. That rich heavy scent must be the mother’s. Oh what a wonderful aroma! And that sharp scent must be the child’s. *sniff* Ah, such sweet dew! Can we not bathe in it?”

The nymph too was drawing the pussy laden air into her center. “Yessssssss,” she hissed. “It is lovely.” She trembled slightly. “But where is the bell? Where is the metal voice that called us here?”

Just then the woman drew back the fur, uncovering herself and the child. The smell of human pussy became much stronger, and both the fairy and the nymph groaned in desire. Both humans were covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Both were aroused, their human cunts wet and aroused. Clearly they had been having sex together. The nymph knew that that might mean these humans followed the ways of the Goddess. The mortals opened their legs in clear invitation.

“Come then sweetling, let us get a little closer,” The nymph said. Together they slid down the wall, the fairy still wrapped about her lover. Like a snake of ice they moved across the room until they were but mere feet from the two mortals. The older woman leaned against the wall, her long lustrous black hair spilling down her back like a waterfall of night, her blue eyes twin stars in the darkness. Her lips were full and red, her skin as white as snow, her breasts rounded and heavy. Only her left tit was visible to their eyes, the other being covered by the little girl, but the nipple they could see was hardened, its aureole crinkled, clearly showing her arousal. The little girl sat between her legs but slightly off to the side. Thus the woman’s cunt was mostly obscured but what could be seen showed no signs of hair, confirming the nymph’s opinion that this woman was a devotee of the Goddess.

The little girl was practically her mother’s twin although much younger. The same hair and eyes, the same pale skin, the same sweet scent, all of it indicating that she was likely the product of incest. Both the fairy and the nymph could tell this on sight and by smell and it stirred their arousal to even greater heights. Incest they knew was taboo among most mortals, yet considered sacred by the Queens of Shadow. The girl was quite young, perhaps in her sixth year of Life, certainly not past her seventh. Her legs were spread wide and her small hairless child’s quim was displayed like an offering. By her left ankle there rested a tiny silver bell etched with signs and hexagrams. Both of the immortals studied the bell carefully, but then forgot about it as the woman reached down and with her fingers opened up her daughter’s little pussy. Inside it was rosy pink and very very moist. Clearly the girl had had an orgasm recently. As they watched the woman dipped her finger into the child and fingered her gently, causing her to sigh softly. Then she pulled her finger free and flicked it so that droplets of juice flew at the two visitors. The bouquet of human pussy wafted over the two tiny elementals causing them to tremble with desire. The nymph seized her lover’s nipples so hard that the fairy almost erupted in orgasm. The little girl’s creamy scent was pure. This close there could be no doubt.

“Sssssissssteerrrrrrrr,” the nymph hissed, her serpent like nature coming to the fore in her swelling lust. “The child is a virgin! She is an offering. A gift to the Goddess of Winter.”

“What?” the fairy asked in a haze of desire. She was humping her slick pussy up and down her lover’s icy thigh. “Virgin?” She eyed the little girl quizzically. “Is she ugly to mortal eyes?”

“No, of course not. She is as lovely to them as she is to us. Lovely and sweet, a priceless little joy.”

“I thought so. I have not met many mortals but never have I met one as beautiful as her. How then is it that she remains a maiden? Why has no mortal yet plundered her?”

“It is against their laws sister. A mortal man or woman who was found violating such a young child would be hung in any kingdom North of the Sleeping Desert.” Sensing the fairy’s lack of comprehension she explained. “When a mortal is hung they have a rope placed about their neck and tightened until they are destroyed. It means killed sister. A mortal risks death having a child such as her.”

The fairy shivered at the very thought. “Speak not of the Hidden One my sweet Mistress.”

“Silly fairy, death is not for such as we. But don’t you understand? This woman is a follower of the ancient ways. She has brought this child here to offer her to us. Her virginity is to be sacrificed to the Goddess of Winter, with you and I the twin knives of Air and Water.” The nymph growled in consuming lust and slid her hand down the fairy’s belly to her brimming cunt where she slid four of her fingers deep inside. “We will fuck this child! We will dive within her and open the passage of Life’s River and she will be Winter’s child forever more!”

“Yeeessssssssssss,” the fairy sighed. “But, but then what Adored Mistress? How will we carry this offering to the Goddess?”

“We must dive deep little one. Deeper than my fingers are in you now. To the center we must go, into the little girl’s womb where Life’s River has made a fountain. From there we may slip under Time and emerge at the throne of the Goddess, covered in the blood and nectar of this mortal girl. There the Divine Queen will open her mouth, allowing us to climb within so that we may bathe on her tongue, thus consuming the essence of this little girl, bound to her while Life remains. Thus it was done in days long past when mortals knelt before the alter of our Goddess.”

The fairy continued to twist and writhe in ecstasy while pressed against her lover. She squeezed her cunt around the fingers within her. “Ah Mistress, fuck me! Stretch me wide open and fuck my depths! Open me as we will open this girl, let her see what we intend. I … I do not understand all that you describe, but I will do anything you say.” She gazed once again on the spread pussy of the little girl. “To plunge deep within that inviting cunt I require no convincing.”

The woman behind the girl slowly eased herself out from behind her child letting the fur she wore slide away to the floor where it lay crumpled between her and the little silver bell. She then laid the girl flat upon the floor and climbed on top of her. She straddled the tiny girl with her womanly body, spreading her legs wide and settling her dripping cunt down upon the child’s face. Wet lapping sounds of a hungry mouth filled the room as the little girl sucked and feasted on her mother’s sopping wet cunt. Then, bending low so that her heavy tits hung down, nipples brushing across her daughter’s hips, she grabbed the girl’s thighs and pulled her legs wide apart. Her hands slid up the girl’s pale tender thighs to her tiny slit where her fingers once again flared open the child’s tender lips, displaying her sweet pink interior. Then she sat back, pinning her daughter beneath her weight, her cunt holding the girl’s head to the floor, and uttered a word.

The word she spoke was the name of the Winter Goddess rendered into human tongue. The sound of it electrified the fairy and the nymph. They jumped as if slapped, then with a sudden growl of passion leaped forward and plunged into the pink meat of the child’s cunt. The little girl screamed into her mother’s wet hole but the woman only bore down harder keeping her daughter in place. The nymph never slowed down. In she pushed, into the hot wet tightness of the girl’s little pussy. She shoved the fairy before her. Head first the fairy plunged inside the girl followed by the icy river of the nymph. The girl kicked and thrashed as the fairy’s legs disappeared into her tender body, as the nymph pushed past her lips making the wet juices of her tiny hole flash to frost.

It was wet, and tight, and dark, and unbearably warm inside the child, as well as indescribably sweet. But the darkness did not affect the two elementals and the tightness and the heat were no match for the nymph’s cold power. The fairy crouched within, pressed up against the girl’s hymen. The nymph shouted a silent command and the fairy knelt and tried to extend her wings in the tight space. They folded over, laying over her shoulders and pressed into the fleshy barrier. The nymph pulled her lover to her by the fingers still embedded within her and placed a deep probing kiss upon the fairy’s tiniest hole. The little fairy spasmed as ecstasy and power poured through her. Her wings snapped rigid as the coldness filled them and they slashed through the child’s maidenhead like razors. Lunging forward the two spirits surged deep into the child’s birth canal.

They were met by the unfettered power of Life’s River. The surging current of the girl’s life force washed over them like a river of lava. The fairy’s wings melted under the onslaught, and if not for the cold strength of the serpentine nymph she too would have been lost. Far more than anything either of them had expected, they endured the onslaught of the child’s life force. Then, unexpectedly, there came a change. From outside the girl’s body they heard the silver bell. As before its note filled them with its clear voice, but here, within the heaving current of Life’s River, it did far more. The sound of the bell established a harmony between the Life of the girl and the elemental power of the nymph and fairy. Suddenly the competing powers of Life and Winter attained a symmetry where all antagonisms vanished. The hot flow of the girl’s juices now filled the two of them with strength even as the girl’s pain vanished in a virtual explosion of ecstatic power. Screaming their silent joy the two elemental spirits plunged forward, now strengthened rather than hindered by the girl’s surging life force. They passed through her cervix effortlessly, without disruption, no more than a mist, and plunged into the girl’s womb. In there the fountaining Life of the girl vaporized their physical remains even as they slipped under Time and blazed like a shooting star towards the eternal throne of the Goddess.

Back in the little cottage Ba-Shelle-Meja bucked and heaved, her face pinned beneath the soft wet meat of her mother’s gushing cunt, as an orgasm unlike any she had ever felt before roared through her. The pain at first had been terrible. The cold penetration of the winter elementals they had summoned had been like being raped with an icicle. But when the bell rang for the final time her pain had vanished, just as her mother had promised. Suddenly she could feel the winter power plugged into her tiny hole and it was like being made love to by a lightning bolt of pure pleasure. She had screamed into the wet softness above her, screamed in rapture as her orgasm was magnified by sheer elemental power. The little silver bell rang in harmony with her until its note escalated into a metallic shriek before shattering in a convulsive burst, spraying shards of hot metal across the room. They were protected by the heavy fur her mother, the Witch Ash-Shelle-Lia, had placed between them and it.

As the bell shattered so too did the trail of ice that ended at Bashie’s little cunt. Asha had struggled to keep the girl’s hips in place as she was so savagely penetrated by the long icicle that extended from her to the wall, then up to the window and the roof and from there to the small lake more than a mile away. It was important that the girl not break contact with the power they sought to harness. Asha was aware of Bashie’s pain, but such an act always caused pain. More importantly, her daughter would have far more to show from her pain then the satisfaction of some man. When the spell reached its crescendo the spirits of nymph and fairy had escaped from Time, but the power they bore remained and was bound to the girl. The binding of the bell had transferred to her daughter when the frail metal could no longer hold it. The spell had fused their power into the life force of Ba-Shelle-Meja. When that happened the long trail of ice had shattered, the icicles on the roof of the cottage had all come raining down, and far away the ice that covered the small lake had split down the middle.

Ash-Shelle-Lia enjoyed a small orgasm on her child’s thrashing face while she watched the spell complete. She had made love to her daughter for hours, immersing her in pleasure, making her cum again and again, priming her for this moment. All the while she had sent out their Summons, calling winter powers to their door. She had felt the ice nymph gather about their little cottage. She had been even more delighted when the snow fairy had also been drawn into her web. It was fitting that the agency by which her daughter would be initiated into the ways of power be a pair of sapphic spirits. Really she couldn’t have asked for better. And the nymph had been strong. Very strong. The change in Bashie was obvious to her trained senses. Even as the girl’s orgasm waned there was a silent thunder of power seeping out of her tender flesh.

Asha smiled in satisfaction and bent down. Her dark hair fell about them as she covered Bashie’s tender little cunt with her mouth. Gently she sucked, drinking the melt water, blood, and orgasmic juices from her child’s no-longer-virgin cunt. She purred in lust as she thought of the pleasures yet to be had. Now she could really fuck her little girl. Fuck her the way she had always wanted. It had been so hard to wait so long, but it would all be worth it. Bashie twitched underneath her as she sucked, finally collapsing into an exhausted heap.

Asha rolled off to the side. She pulled the heavy fur over Bashie to cover her then stood up. With a word she snapped the binding on the fire and the three flames on the candles were sucked back through the moments and into the hearth, which once again burned with a merry fire. There was no longer any need to keep the fire bound. Her nipples stood rigid in the cold as she walked naked to the window and sealed it shut.

“Mummy,” Bashie said weakly from under the fur.

“I’m here baby. Just closing the window. Bloody cold in here.”

“Mmm, doesn’t feel cold to me,” the girl said in a sleepy voice.

“No baby. I don’t imagine it does. In fact, I doubt you will ever feel cold again.”

“Mmmmm. I feel sooooooo gooooooood Mummy.” The little girl stretched and pushed the heavy fur aside. She stretched out naked on the floor. Asha gazed at her silently, drinking in her daughter’s sweet little body. “That was amazing,” Bashie said languidly. “It really hurt at first, but then it was soooo good.” She shivered in pure sensual pleasure. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum like that before.”

“No, probably not,” Asha said. Even after all the sex they had had together leading up to the spell she still found herself growing aroused looking at her daughter. She was almost seven now and Asha’s mind was filled with a thousand wicked fantasies starring her child. She smiled inwardly. She was just like her mother had been with her. “That was more then just a regular orgasm my pet.”

“Mmmmm,” Bashie purred. “Yeah, that was magic.”

“Yes, it was.” Asha smiled. “How are you feeling now?”

“Great,” the six year-old said. She spread her legs wide and reached down to touch and examine her pussy. “My pussy feels okay too.” She pushed her two fingers in deep. “It’s not even sore. And it feels bigger now.” Looking up at her mother she grinned and said, “Guess I’m not a virgin anymore.”

Asha swept across the room and knelt between Bashie’s legs. “Show me baby. Show your mother your big girl pussy.”

Bashie smiled and reached down with her other hand. She slipped a finger from each hand inside her little tube and pulled her cunny wide open. “Look Mummy, I can open up like you do.” Asha cooed in delight and reached out with her right hand to slide a long finger deep into her child’s little cunt. Bashie moaned in pleasure as her mother caressed a little spot inside her. “Ooohhhhhhhh, Mummmmmyyyy. What’s that?”

Asha grinned wickedly. “That’s what it feels like to no longer be a virgin baby girl. Now I get to have fun with all of your little pink hole.”

“Ooooohhhh, yes!” Bashie flung her hands back over her head and stretched her legs as wide as they would go, which was very far indeed. “Do whatever you want Mummy.”

Asha chuckled. “Mmmm, oh yes? Whatever I want you say?” She pulled her finger most of the way out then added a second digit. With a firm thrust she shoved both fingers deep making Bashie grunt. “Well, what I want it to use my daughter like a whore. I’m going to open up your little pussy the same way I opened your sweet little asshole baby girl.”

“Aaaaaaahhhhhhh, Mothhhhhheeeeeerrrrrrrrr,” Bashie sighed. She thrust her little hips into the air meeting Asha’s strokes.

Asha growled in lust and lunged forward covering the girl. Her heavy tits pressed into Bashie as she sought out the girl’s mouth, captured it with hers, and kissed her deeply. Bashie moaned into her mother’s mouth and sucked at her playful tongue, all the while she kept thrusting her hips up to welcome Asha’s plunging fingers. Asha felt the power rise up in her little girl, felt the elemental force she now contained respond to her lust and begin to express itself in conformity to the child’s will. Juices gushed out of Bashies tiny cunny, far more than a child her age would normally produce, as the magic tuned to her pleasure.

Asha slowed down her thrusts and eased her baby into a warm pleasurable glow. There was no rush, they had all night. She freed her mouth and kissed Bashie’s nose, then her cheeks, then her forehead, raining kisses down all over her pretty face. Bashie giggled and purred, then moaned as Asha’s heavy tit slid up to rest its swollen nipple against her lips. She opened her mouth and eagerly sucked the pale fruit of her mother’s breast into her mouth. She suckled like a baby as Asha probed her newly opened depths.

“Mmmmm, baby. You are so good at that,” Asha sighed. “Let us play for a while longer, but then we must get some sleep. Tomorrow we leave this place and travel South.”

“Where will we go next Momma?” Bashie asked around the tit in her mouth.

Asha pressed her breast deeper into Bashie’s mouth and stirred her little pussy. “We’ll head back to the pass, then follow the river to Hollings where we will book passage to Mennacore.” She smiled at the wide eyed look Bashie gave her. “That’s right, jewel of my heart, it’s time for you to see a city with your own eyes.” She slid into a conspiratorial whisper. “The rumor I hear is that the king of Mennacore has a spirited daughter who is perhaps too fond of the company of women, who keeps her maid with her at all times, and whose chamber girls smile more than is discrete. Also, it is said that she is fascinated with the occult.” Bashie was smiling with her eyes now and she flicked her mother’s nipple deliciously with her tongue. Asha purred in bliss then drew her fingers from Bashie’s sucking quim. Staring into her daughter’s eyes she brought her fingers to her lips. Slowly and sensuously she slid one finger into her mouth, her eyes fluttering in pleasure as Bashie’s sweet taste once again filled her mouth. Then she reached over to her other breast and basted the nipple with the cream her remaining finger had collected before exchanging it with the one Bashie was sucking. Bashie made little happy sounds as she sucked her own cream off her mother’s other tit while Asha basked in the glow of pleasure her daughter’s mouth was giving her. “I think my sweet, that we could live in comfort for a while, and perhaps turn a princess into our rutting slut. What do you say to that?”

Bashie released her mother’s tit with a wet pop. “Is she very pretty mother?”

“They say she is as pretty as sunrise my sweet. With golden hair and eyes as green as jade, fair of face and smooth limbed. Sixteen summers she is and has not yet been promised to another. Her father indulges her they say, and allows her great freedom.”

“Do you think he knows she likes pussy?” Bashie asked.

Asha laughed. “Who can say my child. Perhaps he does. Some kings would see that as a good way to protect against siring royal bastards. We’ll just have to see for ourselves. Perhaps he finds her dalliances a source of excitement. Many men would.”

“What will we do about him then Mummy?”

“Well, no sense seducing only the child baby girl.” She caressed Bashie’s wet pussy. “I think it would be quite a treat to lick a king’s seed from your little hole.”

“Mmmmmmm, oh yes Mother. That would be grand! Let me fuck him Mummy. A king for my first man!”

“Yes baby. And a princess for dessert.”

Bashie squirmed in pleasure under her mother’s caress. “Does a king’s sperm taste better than a normal man’s Mother? And is the pussy of a princess sweeter?”

Asha chuckled. “I do not think so as a rule my darling. But we shall see. Perhaps we will find we have a taste for royal meat. Although, I cannot imagine not liking the taste of a pretty young princess.”

“Mmmm, I bet she tastes like wine with honey,” Bashie said. She reached down and grabbed her Asha’s wrist and pulled it tighter against her newly opened hole. “Aaaahhhh, deeper Mummy. It feels nice when you go all the way in now.”

Asha thrust her fingers deep and wiggled them around, causing young Bashie to gasp and tremble. Asha smiled adoringly at her child as she molested her. “Would you like something bigger Bashie?” she asked.

Little eyes fluttered open. “Bigger, Mummy?”

Asha slid her fingers free and stood up. She sucked the cream from her fingers as she walked over to the side of the one room cottage where a satchel lay against a wall. Rummaging through it she pulled out a curious object. It was a long tusk of ivory carved in the shape of a double ended phallus. The artwork of it was very detailed, from the flaring mushroom tips to the carved veins that ran its length. It was as long as Asha’s forearm from wrist to elbow and as she wrapped her hand around the shaft her thumb and middle finger only just touched. Turning back to Bashie Asha held the object out and asked, “Fancy a real fuck darling?”

Bashie’s eyes widened. “That will never fit in me,” she said.

“Hmm, not all of it,” Asha said while rubbing one smooth ivory tip against her swollen nipple. “Not yet anyways. But let’s see what you can take.”

With a lascivious leer Asha advanced on her naked daughter. Bashie gulped nervously but obediently spread her legs. The fire flickered and danced in the hearth whispering in its hidden language to the darkness of night. Outside the wind made the snowflakes spin and dance as winter covered the world in its white blanket. In the eternal halls of Night the Goddess sighed in bliss as two insatiable spirits writhed about in sapphic passion on her tongue. She smiled her blessing upon the world as she tasted the virginity of Ba-Shell-Meja.

And all was right with the world.

By Galatea

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in September 2005 }

It was the worst thunderstorm of the year. In the middle of summer, they were always worse, aside from the winter storms two years ago. Still, even those weren’t as loud as this one. Ku waited patiently. Her sister could stand about a half of an hour by herself, but this storm was not letting up.

Only moments later, her door opened and shut, though quietly. The soft voice of her sister came from out of the dark. “Ku…?”

Ku simply slid over and opened the blankets for her sister. She caught a brief glimpse of the lanky, boyish form of her twin sliding into the bed as lightning painted the room. As she wrapped her arms around Chisato the girl whimpered, and then the thunder crashed.

Spooned against her sister’s back Ku sighed softly and stroked her twin’s long black hair. “It will go away soon, Chi, calm down.” Ku was the dominant twin usually: ‘silent and spooky-smart’ as Chisato described her. Chisato was a social butterfly, who knew everyone and all of the gossip, though she spread little of it herself. “I’m right here.”

It was purely a phobic reaction, and they both knew it. They also knew they could only do so much about it. Though they had been given separate rooms at an early age it had been several years before they would remain in their own beds under even ordinary circumstances. Ku did not mind Chisato’s presence in her bed while the storm raged any more than Chisato would have been bothered by Ku’s sneaking into her bed after a nightmare. Sleep, on the other hand, would be impossible while the storm raged.

“I’m sorry Ku…” Chisato murmured, tensing as lighting brightened the room for a split second. “I can’t help IT!”

The last word emerged as a squeak of terror as the thunder rumbled, close enough to rattle the windows just a little. Chisato’s trembling became more pronounced, and Ku kissed her temple gently.

“I know, I know. I’m not angry, Chi. I’m right here, and you’re safe.” Ku held her sister close, sighing softly. Tucking her arm under her pillow (which allowed Chisato to rest her head in the crook of her elbow almost perfectly) and wrapping the other about Chisato’s waist, she pulled her sister a little closer. Chisato was warmer than usual through her nightie. “Were you hiding under your covers again?”

Chisato only nodded in response. She jumped again as thunder crashed; the center of the storm was getting closer. Ku sighed again and kissed her sister on the back of her head. She could smell the strawberry rinse Chisato loved, and the warmth of their bodies under the blankets was making Ku sleepy. She was quickly woken by Chisato’s cry of dismay as lightning flashed, and a roll of thunder quickly followed.

“We’ll never get to sleep like this you know.” Ku was thoughtful for a moment as her sister answered.

“I know, I’m sorry Ku, it’s so stupid but it scares me so bad…I’m so sorry…” Chisato began to sniffle, and Ku became alarmed.

“No no no, no crying Chisato Hsieh! If you cry, you’ll scream, and you KNOW mother doesn’t like us sleeping together!” Ever since their mother had caught them playing doctor together when they were seven, she had been worried her daughters might turn out ‘strange’. Their father, a more sophisticated man, had calmed their mother down and given them the full lecture on sex and drugs and abuse, using some of his books to illustrate the points he made – under their mother’s watchful and worried eye. She’d been much reassured when Chisato had brought her first boyfriend home. Ku adamantly avoided all such entanglements with either gender.

Chi nodded and sniffled again. Ku stroked her hair gently, and didn’t resist when Chisato clutched her hand with both of her own and pressed it to her cheek. Shifting a little, Ku felt the warmth of her sister’s body, and made her decision.

“We have to get some sleep, Chi.” The socialite nodded miserably. Ku kissed her ear softly and murmured gently. “We could do what we did last time…” Chisato jumped at another roll of thunder. The warmth that grew in Chisato’s cheek where her hand was pressed against it was not from that, Ku was quite sure.

“We shouldn’t, Ku, really…” Chisato’s worry was evident in her voice, but her fear was reflected through her whole body. Ku murmured again, this time slipping her hand away from her sister’s hands and stroking her taut belly. Ku’s hand brushed lightly against Chisato’s navel ring – an affectation that Ku did not share but appreciated in her twin.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to, Chi.” A soft kiss to her sister’s neck brought about a loosening of her shoulders. “You could do it all yourself, you know. And you have tests tomorrow,” Ku reminded her sister gently.

When they had been twelve, four years ago, Ku had slipped into Chisato’s room during a particularly bad storm. In an effort to keep Chisato’s mind off of the thunder and lightning, they had talked about what Chisato would and would not let her boyfriends do, and what Ku might allow a boy to do with her if she found one she liked. From there they had talked of the things they had seen in their father’s library, and what they’d discovered more recently in the encyclopedia he had shown them when they’d been caught by their mother.

The talk had aroused curiosity and feelings, and they had experimented a little. Nothing more than mutual touching and some (on Ku’s part, at least) experimental kisses, but Ku had experimented with self pleasure more than Chisato had. As a result, Chisato had experienced her first orgasm under Ku’s hands rather than a boyfriend’s. She had almost immediately fallen asleep, to Ku’s astonishment – the storm had not abated at all.

“I’m too afraid,” admitted Chisato, though she was slowly relaxing under Ku’s soft caresses and gentle kisses. There was a tensing of her body as lightning flashed, but she only shuddered a little when the thunder rippled through. Ku’s lips were at her shoulder, suckling gently as her hand slid along the translucent nightie. “I don’t know Ku…we’re not little kids anymore,” the soft whisper continued.

Ku’s hand flowed along the curves of Chisato’s belly and then to her thigh, to raise the nightie up past her waist. “I’m your sister, Chi. It’s okay…nothing bad will happen.” Ku slid her hand down once more, and traced the edges of Chisato’s lacy panties. She whispered breathily into Chisato’s ear. “I promise.”

The promise had its intended effect. Chisato held an unwavering, unshakable faith in her sister, to the extent of being willing to risk life and limb on Ku’s say so. Not that Ku would ever do such a thing as put her sister in danger; the power she held over Chisato did have its good points though. Ku almost never exercised her power over her twin if she could help it.

Ku’s fingers slipped under the elastic of Chisato’s panties, and aided her twin in escaping the snug lace. Their builds were the same: long legged, skinny, small chested; their heart shaped faces, long black hair falling straight to their waists, and violet eyes matched as well. Chisato’s penchant for body jewelry and an open, happy expression were the only visual differences, for Ku was stoic and had no piercings. Their voices were also somewhat similar, but the way in which they used them were utterly disparate.

“We really shouldn’t be doing this…” Chisato murmured, before thunder elicited a startled cry. When she had calmed down, largely through Ku’s gentle kisses and light caresses along her belly and thighs, she continued. “We’re sisters, and it’s not really right.” She did not pull away and in fact moved closer to her sister when Ku pulled gently on her. She felt bare skin along her lower back and thighs. “You’re naked!”

“I always sleep naked in my own bed. We ARE sisters, so we aren’t going to be doing this all the time. We aren’t girlfriends.” Ku shifted, wrapping her leg over Chisato’s legs as her hands slid the thin material of her twin’s nightie all the way to her underarms. She then ran her free hand back down her sister’s lithe body. “I need rest, and so do you, and we won’t -” Ku was interrupted by lightning and the tension it produced in Chisato. “- we won’t get any with-” The thunder shook the windows again, but her sister relaxed under the slow caress and softly murmured words. “- with you doing that all night.” Ku’s practicality put forth a hard argument, as did her movements.

Chisato made a soft noise that could have been agreement as Ku’s hand moved up to trace the curves of her breasts; the other remained under her own head, arm pillowing her sister’s head. They were small, firm, and warm. Fingertips explored aureole, feeling the tender flesh swell a little. Ku nibbled lightly on the back of her twin’s neck, and was rewarded by Chisato turning to look at her with violet pools of darkness. The movement freed her largely numb arm.

Ignoring the discomfort, Ku slid her arm underneath her sister. Using her newly freed hand to gently cup her sister’s other breast, Ku softly kissed Chisato. She did so carefully hiding inexperience with deliberation, this being her first real kiss. Chisato responded to the kiss, not necessarily eager, but certainly accepting it. Her twin only jumped a little at the rolling thunder.

The tingling warmth of her first kiss was exciting and pleasurable; when Chisato deepened the kiss. Her tongue tentatively touching Ku’s lips, Ku experienced her first soul kiss with her twin as well. She’d kissed before – experiments with schoolmates, with Chisato a long time ago – but she’d never been truly intimate with anyone. Remembering what she was supposed to be doing, she gently squeezed her sister’s breasts, trapping Chisato’s nipples between her fingers.

Chisato moaned softly into the kiss, and moved in an exciting manner against Ku. Ku’s upper hand moved, tracing her belly, and passing through the silky curls between her twin’s legs. Chisato hesitated before parting her legs, forcing Ku to unwind her own leg from her sister’s. Ku was a little surprised to discover her sister was shaven, other than a strip above her feminine places. The ring that was placed through her sister’s clitoris was an even greater surprise.

The thunder made her sister tremble, so she discarded questions for later. Instead she concentrated on the kissing, the swell of breast in her hand, and the tenderness of her sister’s bare nether lips. Chisato relaxed slowly, and broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “Ku…I…” Ku hushed her, and worked her finger slowly between the softness, feeling the warm, almost hot moistness of her sister. She drew her fingers along her twin’s breast, her trapped nipple.

Chisato’s eyes closed and she pressed her back against Ku’s body, the hard points of her own nipples quickly warmed by her twin’s flesh. The gently probing finger sought deeper, and was rewarded with wetness. Ku proceeded to thoroughly coat her finger in her sister’s warmth, which brought soft noises and loving movements as a result.

She suckled gently at her sister’s neck, tongue sliding across soft, salty skin. Ku entertained the thought of leaving a hickey, but discarded the idea. It would bring too many questions that Chisato could be bullied into answering. Shifting her sister slightly, Ku was able to wrap her arm completely around Chisato’s chest, and took her other breast in hand as she slowly ran her tongue along the throbbing artery in her twin’s neck.

The slender girl was moving now, responding to Ku’s gentle intrusion by shifting her hips and guiding that deft, slick finger along her femininity. A gentle shudder went through Chisato’s body, this time not caused by the thunder that rumbled past, but from the sensation of Ku’s finger sliding slowly over her pierced and erect nub. Ku’s licking became soft bites and kisses, and her other hand clutched gently at soft flesh.

Chisato was very wet now, and Ku decided she wanted to try more. What virgin wouldn’t with such a responsive lover? She moved, pressing her sister back and lying over her, gently trapping her into another kiss. Straddling her sister’s leg, she slowly introduced a second finger to the warm, wet slit. Chisato’s moan was gratifying, muffled as it was by Ku’s lips and tongue.

Breaking the kiss, Ku made her way lower, lips and tongue tracing the contours of tendon, skin, bone, until she reached one of the small mounds. Slowly she caressed Chisato’s curve of bust with her tongue, from one side to the other; then she moved and did the same to the lower halves of her breasts. Her fingers continued their intimate play, and the rocking of her sister’s hips was enough to let Ku know she was enjoying it.

Rain, lightning, thunder, it was all forgotten as Ku locked her lips over one hard, pert breast, slowly running her tongue over the entirety of aureole and nipple. Chisato’s hands roamed through her twin’s ebony tresses, and her body arched in pleasure as the two fingers found their way deeper into the heat between her legs. Her breaths were deep and fast, and this was enough to cause Ku to move on.

When Ku pulled away entirely, Chisato looked up at her in confusion. “Ku, what are you…” Ku’s fingers – dry ones – touched the lips of her brighter mirror to hush her. Ku moved down, between her twin’s legs, and Chisato’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized what was intended. “But Ku, I – ” She broke off as Ku slowly ran her tongue along, and inside, the soft, warm, moist places so carefully prepared.

As Chisato clutched the sheets, a soft gasp her only further comment, Ku gently parted her nether lips with gently fingers and explored them with her tongue. The salty musk was not unpleasant, and while she couldn’t bring herself to delve deeply, her sister proved very responsive to the touch of tongue to inner folds and petals.

Ku finally shifted her attention up just a little, as Chisato’s breath started to suffer pauses, knowing them to be a sign of how close her sister’s release was. The two fingers slid gently inside, deeply inside, and the quiet twin placed her lips over the jeweled epicenter of Chisato’s pleasure. With her twin’s penetration, and the slow caress of tongue over her pierced nub, Chisato could hold back nothing.

Three things happened at once. Lightning and thunder struck at once, the center of the storm crashing in on the twins. Chisato screamed, her orgasm intense and unstoppable. Ku relented, allowing herself to admit there would only be her sister in her heart for a long time to come. She slowly licked a few more times, drawing the last of her sister’s pleasure out.

Crawling back up the bed Ku turned over onto her side once more, as her twin curled up against her. Chisato was still shivering on occasion as the remnants of her pleasure faded. Spooned once more, Chisato laid her arm over Ku’s arm as it was wrapped around her waist.

The next crash of thunder, more distant now, did not bring even a gasp as Chisato lay with her twin wrapped protectively around her. “I’m not afraid anymore, Ku,” she murmured sleepily.

“I know.” Ku laid a last kiss on her sister’s temple. “Go to sleep, Chi.”

Chisato murmured something, but sleep had indeed overcome the lanky girl. Ku sighed, and relaxed slowly. She wouldn’t ever really have a boyfriend – or a girlfriend for that matter – for a long time. She had her hands full just watching over her sister. There was no regret, no resentment for not being loved as she loved. Ku was more than pragmatic, more than practical. It was dedication, dedication to Chisato’s happiness. Once Chisato was safe, happy, and secure, Ku would seek other things to do.

For now, however…”I love you, Chi. Sleep well.”

Neither would ever mention the experience, and in the morning it was as though nothing at all had happened. Just as Ku had known it would be.

Continue on to Part Two

By Galatea

Bangkok is an amazing place. Not only is it an old culture — which I’m always pleased with — but the intrusion of the modern world into its culture and society has produced both incredible wonder and horrific madness in equal parts. The dichotomy between poor and rich is violently obvious, and one can see incredible squalor and expensive décor along the same narrow street.

My sister and I were traveling with our parents, who had business dealings in Bangkok that were not precisely legal. While my sister was oblivious to the true nature of our family business, I was not; Chisato was more naïve than I. Our parents had broken every cultural taboo their individual societies possessed, so it followed that their twin daughters would follow the same path. I was not aware of how far down that path my sister would go, however, and this time it was I who followed her lead instead of the other way around.

Mother came from Japan, a woman of high station. She was a small and delicate beauty who was daughter of a man very highly placed among the Yakuza as well as the politics of Japan. Father was a tall, graceful diplomat from China, and their arranged marriage was almost ten years in the making. But when it was done, my father’s Tong (or Triad as they are now called) had blood ties to the Yakuza, and our mother’s family had a contact in China’s shadow world.

We are pretty; the best of mother’s genes and father’s genes combined to make us elegantly delicate. Chisato seemed to have gained all of the emotional content between us, while I was ‘freakishly intelligent’ according to my teachers when conversing out of (what they believed) was earshot of nosy students. I took most of my true schooling at home, though we still attended a public school. My sister is something of a socialite and very gregarious. I am more withdrawn, but since I know it, most psychologists that I have been sent to seem to be unconcerned by it. We are tall, slender, willowy things. My sister is a more svelte girl than I am. I am still very lithe creature, while she is more of a feminine person; that could be because I practice martial arts and have better muscle tone, thus tending towards a more boyish figure. We will probably top out at about 5’8″ when we’re nineteen or twenty-one, but right now we’re only about 5’4″ at youthful sixteen. We have small, firm breasts and like many Orientals it is almost impossible to judge our age. Our skin is a soft golden tone and our eyes are a soft brown more akin to carnelian and dark agate than the deeper brown of our mother’s or the black of our father’s eyes.

I avoided making an issue of that since any sign of infidelity on either side will get all of us killed.

Dressing as Americans afforded us a good measure of protection from some of the less pleasant things that can happen to young women in Bangkok. American vengefulness is well recorded in history — consider Hiroshima and Nagasaki. I was armed as well, a knife and a tiny .25 caliber pistol that fit neatly in my hand and the pocket of my loose jeans. I had convinced one of our body guards to give it to me after I had proven I knew what to do with a pistol. The bodyguard was from mother’s side of the family, and very pragmatic; my father’s side of the family tended to ask questions of younger members when it concerns potentially illegal things.

Chisato was blessedly oblivious to potential danger of course, and she took to the streets of Bangkok with her usual charming smiles and gay abandon. As I said, she is naïve and sweet tempered, always willing to overlook the unpleasant realities of life. I had to admit, she did find the most interesting places this way. Shrines, dancers, places to eat, bars, impromptu dances in narrow streets… all things she discovered for us to enjoy. I followed my sister because I worried for us, but eventually I began to enjoy the scenery and even started souvenir shopping.

I had selected a few small pieces of jade carving and bits of jewelry that were easily concealed to give out as gifts later. I was not demonstrative person, but small and beautiful things have an appeal that makes up for the extravagances my sister was so fond of. I glanced around for the bright dress my sister was currently wearing, and was confused for a moment when I located her. She was standing under an awning, watching something with a rapt expression that I’d come to both dread and anticipate.

Our relationship is odd even by the standards of other twins. Chisato is an earnest and sweet person who loves boys and girls with equal abandon. By loves, I mean anyone who is a close friend could find gentle affection in my sister’s arms — or her bed. The concept of fidelity never really enters my sister’s mind; nor does guilt or jealousy, which is fortunate. It usually falls to me to head off problems that can arise from a misunderstanding. I am my sister’s guardian. I would not necessarily call myself an angel. I am much more like one of the guardian devils of Buddhism; not evil because I am not good, but evil out of necessity. My sister’s concept of love leaves her vulnerable, and I make it very clear early on to all of my sister’s friends that we come as a pair and I will not tolerate anyone going out of their way to hurt my sister’s feelings or make her into something she isn’t.

The only one who has even been in my bed is my sister, and I have no plans to change that. Chisato is enough trouble for anyone all by herself. Seeing her happy is all that matters to me.

Chisato’s emotions are never well hidden as a general rule. The ones on her face as we stood on that narrow street in Bangkok would have sent quivers through any of her friends and more than one or two would have blushed to be the reason for that look. My stomach did a slow turn as I realized what she was looking at. I moved silently up behind her and tucked my hands into my pockets — mainly so I could hold onto my pistol.

It was most definitely an opium den. The awnings were large and dark, and candles and oil lamps provided most of the illumination. The smoky haze was acrid with the scent of poppy, and the clientele was lethargically watching what had caught my sister’s attention, which meant we had not caught theirs. Admittedly, even with as much of an intellectual as I was, what Chisato was watching was worth giving attention to.

A slender, cinnamon skinned woman was dancing in the open space in the center of the room. She was wearing a very loose top, and when she turned her small, conical breasts were easily visible to us through the large openings where there were no sleeves, nipples firm and large. Her skirt was loose and flowing, slit along one side, and she seemed more like a dervish or a Sufi dancer than Thai. The sheer material floated, and settled about her legs with loving slowness and we could see the dark V between her legs when she turned to us during the swift sinuous movements of her dance.

Her eyes caught ours and I was a bit taken aback by the smoldering desire in them. Her pupils were large and deep, and her brown eyes shimmered faintly as she moved. While she continued to dance, I could not help but feel that her dance now had a very specific audience in mind. I could feel the thudding pulse of my heartbeat in my throat and Chisato’s hand drifted to her own heart, nearly covering her soft breast. “Isn’t she beautiful, Ku?” whispered my sister in soft Mandarin.

My name is Kujiatieh, which is Chinese. My sister’s name is Japanese, and we speak both languages in addition to English. I actually speak two others, and am learning a new one. Our native tongue is actually Mandarin Chinese, but our mother tongue was Japanese so we learned both quickly. English we learned in school. But there are some languages that are universal, and the beautiful woman was speaking in one Chisato spoke much better than I. Not that I didn’t understand it, it was just one I had a hard time speaking. Desire does not come easily to me. Chisato on the other hand….

The woman moved as though she were water or a reed in the wind. The sleeveless blouse and long skirt were too light and moved too easily at her gestures to be anything but designed for the flirtatious movements and body revealing dance she performed. Chisato made a soft, desperate sound when the woman kicked high, and threw her long black hair forward, caressing her own calf with a cloud of darkness while revealing a dark thatch of curls between her thighs and the softly pouting lips between them.

Moving close to my sister I pulled one hand from my pocket and gently slid it along her hip to draw her a little closer. She leaned into me and I felt the fine tremble in her body. Her lips parted a little as I leaned close to whisper, “Yes, Chisato, she is beautiful.” I looked back at the woman, who was now kneeling on the floor, knees parted wide and the slit of her filmy dress parted by her legs, revealing the places between them. Her eyes were fixed on us and one hand drifted up to her small, beautiful breasts while the other traced her belly and then between her legs, fingers spread wide to touch as much of her soft dusky skin as she could.

Chisato’s breaths came more quickly as the dancer began to move her hands over her body, playing with her breasts, tracing the lines of soft skin hidden by shadow and dark hair, and undulating slowly as though making love. We watched as she opened herself, displayed her treasures to the smokers and the drinkers, and to us. I let my hand drift down, cupping Chisato’s derriere as she watched and then tracing the line between her firm cheeks as the woman slipped a finger inside herself, slid it up to circle the swollen bud of her flowery sex.

My twin’s hand clutched at her chest, bunching the soft material of her bright blouse, and Chisato clenched her jaw, trying to keep quiet as the woman pleasured herself for us. The dark hair was flipped back and she made the first noise I heard from her, a soft gasp and she pushed her hips forward. Wetness came from between her legs and her hips thrust again and again, as she climaxed for my sister’s pleasure. Chisato’s eyes were huge and bright.

I slipped my finger into the hem of her dress, lightly touching the small V between her cheeks, where the silk of her panties was. I was still teasing her even as the woman collapsed forward, panting softly. I might not have strong desires, but I understood Chisato’s. I would much rather have her with me than have her find a stranger in this place.

Turning to embrace me tightly Chisato crushed my body to hers and pressed her breasts to mine, letting me feel her hard nipples through the soft silk. I knew she was not wearing a brassier. I was, but I was never as comfortable with my body as Chisato. Only her insistence I dress nicely if I had to dress made satin the material that pressed against my own hardening nubs. “Take me somewhere Ku, right now!” Her shaking, desperate request made me hesitate. She would only get worse as time went on, and we could not go to the hotel; Chisato was loud and our parents did not need to know how close we remained after the years of attempting to keep us from doing the very things we still did together.

My eyes sought out the person the dancer went to. Surprisingly it was another woman, who was sitting near the bar, smoking a hookah and nursing a large glass of something amber. Breathless, the dancer knelt next to her, where several other young women and men lounged, and laid her head on the woman’s lap so she could receive tender strokes from the matron. I took Chisato’s hand and gently pulled away from her. “Stay very close and be very quiet,” I admonished her softly. We moved into the den, slipping between the men who lounged within. There were quite an interesting variety of people, but thankfully we only received mild glances and curious dismissal.

I walked up to the Madame — I was sure she was one — and towed my shaken mirror image with me. The Madame looked up at me and turned her head to blow smoke away from me. I spoke in Cantonese — it made people more comfortable than Mandarin in this area. “Madame, please could my sister and I have one of your rooms for a while? I will pay as if she was your own, but we have no need of others at this time.” The Madame was an older Asian woman, maybe forty, maybe sixty. As I said, to guess at our ages was impossible. She nodded slowly, seeing the state my sister was in.

“Maybe you would like something to help her sleep?” Soft laughter and murmurs slipped from her covey of pretty men and women. Chisato blushed; though she didn’t understand the conversation she understood the tone of the words.. “I have some very fine hashish, with poppy oil.” She looked at me, calculating. Chisato pressed herself along my back, her hands gripping my shoulders tightly. She let me know with her fingernails that I needed to be faster.

“If it is from Hanyan I will be glad to have some, Madame. I will pay top dollar for it.” Like all of the business men and women of the shadowy sides of our own family, she did not let any of her thoughts show on her face. She nodded and seemed pleased, and made me an offer. I only disagreed twice, knowing that if I said yes too quickly I could expect a robbery. But it was reasonable, and she was pleased with the sale and the fact she got to charge us extravagantly for the room.

The dancer let her still shining fingers trail along Chisato’s leg under the short skirt and Chisato’s nails nearly cut me as she suppressed a cry. I remained stoic as I was given a small paper wrapped block tied with twine, and smelled it. It was real hashish and strongly oiled. I would not use it of course. I planned give it to someone before we even left the city. But more importantly a small girl led us to a room in the back, where we heard noises of pleasure and pain and smelled things darker and more toxic than tobacco and marijuana coming from behind the closed doors.

The girl opened the door and let us into the small, dark room. There was an oil lamp that the girl lit. She was no more than eight and dressed only in a loose shift that was held up by only thin straps over her shoulders. I was checking the bed, and glanced up in time to see Chisato looking away from the girl with a deep blush. I glanced at the girl, not seeing what my sister had seen; or rather, I was not seeing how my sister had seen what I was looking at.

Reddish brown waves of silky hair came down to the girl’s neck, and she was a slender little beauty. Dirty, but her skin was the soft reddish brown that comes of mixing Caucasian and Thai. Her eyes were a startling blue, as she turned to me. I glanced lower and saw her tiny breasts were just forming, visible through the square cut of the blouse’s neck. I looked at her face and she smiled at us as she stood up straight, her eyes lighting on Chisato’s face. I did not understand. Apparently the little girl did and knew that Chisato did as well.

I am intelligent, as I said, but about certain things I was simply blind and deaf.

As the girl moved towards the door I followed to lock it. She moved with a grace that belied her youth and it was difficult not to see that she was elated. She looked up and back at me, and blushed deeply, her cheeks reddening as she turned away. Her hips rolled a little more as she almost pranced out of the room and I locked the door behind her. Even I was able to recognize someone so obviously flirting with me, and I turned to my twin, bemused.

Chisato had opened her blouse entirely, her bare breasts smooth and small, a little more than a handful each one. Her nipples were tight and firm, her eyes were glazed with the desire she had been suffering from since the dancer had pleasured herself for us. I did not undress for her; she preferred to do that for me. She slid the skirt from her waist and rolled back slightly on the bed to free it from her hips, both legs high. Her white silk and satin panties shone and I could see the wetness on them, just as she had intended. I felt my own heart beat faster and my lips parted involuntarily.

She rolled forward and her blouse fell open, and she watched me looking at her, wanting her. The skirt was left on the floor as she sat up and slowly pulled the blouse from her shoulders and let it slip down her arms. I was there before I knew it, kissing her, drinking her, tongues caressing, in a deep soul kiss. Sixteen is sweet, and only other youths understand how sweet it truly is. My hands grasped, moved over her small breasts, and cupped them, letting her nubs cross my palms. She moaned into the kiss and pressed against me, her arms still trapped in the soft silk blouse.

I was becoming warm deep inside; in the places only my sister could warm me. Chisato struggled free of the blouse and moved her hands up, under my black Lycra shirt. When she pushed my arms out of her way and stripped me of the tight material I sighed and went to my knees, raising my hands for her. Her hands slid back down my arms like water, fingertips leaving trails of sensitive skin behind. My heart was pounding as she pulled the straps of the black satin bra from my shoulders. She leaned forward and I made a shocked noise as she used her whole tongue to lick from the hollow of my throat to my chin.

Satin fell away as she undid the fastening in the front and she cast the lovely thing away, preferring the sight of me without adornment to make me more appealing. Her fingers worked at the buttons of my jeans, but not for long. My sister had more experience removing such obstacles than I did; my own fingers tightened about the elastic at each hip and I pulled up, once, sharply. She cried out, and squirmed, pressing her body into the suddenly taut satin and silk. I wrapped my thumbs in the bands and pulled them from her, rocking her back as she had done for herself before.

One I had stripped her bare I stood up, looking down at my beautiful reflection. She looked up at me, resting on her elbows and with her legs spread slightly. She was bare, clean of any evidence of womanhood. It had been expensive, but money, American money, can buy many things. Eternal childhood in seeming was one of them. The tightly closed cleft of our shared femininity was moist still and I shook a little looking down at it. Sensing my own need, she finished undressing me, discarding shoes, socks, jeans — though not before I had taken the gun out of my pocket — and then paused at my black satin panties.

Her fingers came up, moving between the space where my thighs were parted by my slender build, and she traced the hidden line of my sex. I shivered and kept still, letting her have her way. Desperation always turned to consideration for her, once she was safely behind closed doors. She pressed the warm silk that lined my pretty satin covering into my slit, making it wet, staining it as she had stained hers. She smiled and took the band in her teeth, used her lips and mouth to remove them, while her hands gripped my hips tightly.

I gasped softly. I am not a noisy creature; my sister will be loud, but moaned more than she screamed, usually. There were exceptions, but not many. When I was bare she moved back up and slid her long tongue along my sex, not entering, not parting, but simply tasting my skin. My hands moved to slide fingers through her short, silky hair. I gripped her head and pushed her back, covering her body with mine as I forced a warm, full kiss upon those parted lips that tasted of us.

She writhed under me, my thigh finding its way between her legs, letting her press her soft, moist petals along my thigh as she ground into me. I kissed her, teasing her tongue into my mouth so I could suckle firmly upon it, trace its warmth and heat with mine. Her hands slipped around my sides to grip my shoulder blades. I gasped into the kiss and broke it as I arched my back, her nails digging in even as I moved my hips to stroke my warm folds along her leg. Chisato rolled her hips in response, sliding her wetness along my thigh and moaning loudly. She needed more, and I couldn’t refuse.

Our lovemaking had become more intense, more fulfilling over the years as we learned about one another’s likes and pleasures. We had been lovers since she wished to show me what playing doctor was all about, almost seven years ago. I moved down her body, placing kisses intimate and gentle along those places I knew she enjoyed it most. The hollow of her throat was one, as was the slight curve of her small breast, a delicate taste of each nipple. Her hand strayed through my hair and I paused. I moved and lay between her legs, one hand along her smooth back, the other lightly gripping her breast while I took the other into my mouth.

Chisato groaned loudly, and pressed my head to her small mound more firmly. I took as much of it as I could into my mouth, letting her feel the strong suction and tracing her nipple firmly with my tongue. Small breasts are wonderful for that, and I could let her feel my teeth lightly and she gasped, her nails digging into my back again. I drew my lips along her smooth flesh, pulled her nipple with my lips until it slipped from my kiss.

Her eyes were glazed and she was breathing quick and harsh. My twin was lost in that strange world between pleasure and desire, a place I could visit rarely and only in her arms. As I tasted and licked my way down her body she gripped the wool blanket tightly and lifted her legs, parting them for me as I approached her smooth, uncovered lips. My hands caressed her inner thighs, traced the full lips lightly. “Ku….” She breathed warningly. No teasing today.

I slid my tongue into her nether lips with a sigh of pleasure and she cried out loudly, her hips rising quickly to press her body into my mouth. I covered her soft, lush orchid with my mouth, explored her deeply and fully with my tongue. She writhed harder and I was forced to wrap my arms about her legs and hold her still to continue my lovemaking. Quick breaths and long pauses began to emerge in Chisato’s pleasure and soon she was keening softly, prelude to a scream. So I moved up and closed my lips about her small, swollen bud, and kissed it as though I were kissing her lips, tongue tracing the sensitive pearl as I suckled upon it.

My twin’s screams were loud and constant, and she bucked under my attentions as I held her fast. I could feel her thrashing under me, but did not stop, would not stop. I liked her screaming, delicate, soft underneath me, vulnerable in a way. I forced her into another climactic scream even as her body recovered from the first.

When I finished I moved over her, and she curled into me, holding me and shaking violently. Her eyes were wild and her breaths short and uneven. Chisato would hyperventilate on occasion, and I stroked her hair, kissing her lightly, calming her. She felt warm and soft against me, and I treasured it. She had been unusually quick and violent, and I mentioned that softly to her. “Did you enjoy the dancer so much?”

Chisato was blushing and her nipples firmed and pressed against my breasts. “Her breasts,” she murmured, embarrassed. I looked down at her and she hid her eyes from me, a sure sign of severe embarrassment. She mumbled something softly and I gently touched my nose to her ear, a silent urge to tell. “They were so small and pointed. Like a little girl’s breasts.” She squirmed but her hands moved against my chest, soft, light touches, as though she were afraid I’d be upset.

Nymphomania I understood. Chisato was a classic case of it; she needed affection, love, to be held, to have release, to give pleasure. Without it she became lost, and her desires could be sparked so easily she was dangerously inept at normal social interaction without someone to keep her focused. This new revelation of her fantasies was not so easily understood. I had a name for it, but it was a taboo name. “Kinjite, Chisato-chan? Bakana….” The look between the girl and my sister made sense now, and I was having trouble adjusting my conceptions of my sister around this thought.

“I am not an idiot,” she murmured softly as she looked up at me with dark carnelian eyes. “It may be a forbidden subject….but I like to see them. They are small, delicate….they want love. They give love freely. They wouldn’t hurt; I would never hurt a girl….” Her eyes were smoldering with desire and she moved against my, pushed me to the bed and straddled my waist. Her fingers moved over my breasts lightly and she teased my nipples into hardness. “It makes me remember when you touched me, when I was afraid of the storm.”

It had been I, not my sister, who had initiated our first experiences with real love. Playing at doctor was a game. I couldn’t leave it alone, and learned more. My father had been startled, but understanding when I asked him difficult questions, and had given me books, shown me pictures. “It reminds me of how mother showed us….” I looked startled. Our mother had shown us, yes. She’d touched us, shown us what girls were like.

When Chisato had come to my bed when we were eleven to escape the storm, I had kissed her, loved her, and to be honest had seduced her. We had made love and the storm had not frightened her, and she had fallen asleep soon after. Chisato slid from me, taking up her dress and blouse and dressing quickly. She also took her wallet. I started to rise and she spoke quickly. “Wait here, Ku.”

She was out of the room before I could even get off of the bed. I sat up, confused, wondering — and fearing — what she was doing. I started to dress, but slowly. I was trying to sort out the new feelings and concerns her proclamation of pedophilia had engendered in me. It explained the desire to be smooth and unhidden by the soft down we’d started to grow, and her tendency to choose friends younger than us. She’d made fast friends with the small daughter of one of our mother’s family friends, and it made me wonder what she had been doing when I had been practicing aikido with mother’s guardians.

The door opened and I had only managed to gather my clothing and start to slip on the Lycra shirt — uncaring for a bra, more concerned with Chisato’s well being. I paused and lowered my arms, looking at my sister and the young girl that she’d brought. I set the shirt on the floor sitting on the bed, self-consciously closing my legs as I started at the bright blue eyes of the eight-year-old girl.

The girl had been bathed and was wearing a fresh smock. Chisato knelt and slowly lifted the smock, the girl looking at her with open, trusting eyes. She had been bathed, and I had the sudden and sinking feeling that this had been planned better than I could have suspected. I licked lips gone dry as my twin looked at me, showing me the beautiful girl she’d rented.

Delicate and slender, she was only boyish as young girls often are at that age, breasts just budding, hips narrow, and long limbed and frail seeming. She looked vulnerable naked, the small cut of her sex plain and her bold lack of concern for her nudity strangely appealing. I hesitated, looking at Ku, and then the pretty red-haired girl. Her dusky skin gleamed, as though she’d recently been oiled. Chisato’s hands slid up down her arms and the girl wriggled slightly, enjoying the touch. She lifted her hands and placed the delicate fingers over her own nipples, whispering to Chisato in embarrassed Cantonese. My sister smiled and stroked her soft reddish-brown hair, murmuring a response in Mandarin which seemed to soothe the girl, though I was sure they did not understand the languages they heard.

Once more it was the language they did share that allowed them to communicate, and left me wondering.

I moved to one side of the bed, afraid to speak, thrown off balance by the heat in my body and the rushing of my blood through my head.

Chisato lifted the girl and carried her to the bed, smiling and lightly nuzzling the child’s neck. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remember that here the rules and laws of Japan, China, and America were distant legend, hopelessly lost in hundreds of miles of distance and hours of time. The girl giggled but rather than pulling away extended her neck, baring the soft, sensitive skin more. Chisato sat her on the bed and kissed the offered flesh lightly, lovingly. Eyes the color of my own sought me, looked at me as the intimately kissed and teased the little child, who responded in a manner much less childlike than I wanted.

Golden hands slid down the little girl’s chest, caressing tiny nipples made hard by my sister’s attentions. When Chisato pulled back the girl watched as enraptured as I while Chisato unbuttoned her blouse once more, baring her fine golden skin and smooth, pretty breasts. My breath caught as the Thailand girl reached out, cupping her small hands over the sensitive mounds of my twin’s breasts. Chisato moaned softly and divested herself of her blouse while the girl gently fondled and stroked her breasts. The skirt too fell away and I could see wetness along my sister’s inner thighs.

What was more shocking was the answering wetness on my own. I had not considered such things, never been attracted to anyone but my sister. Yet I found myself wondering how it would feel, those soft, tiny hands, that immature and undoubtedly sensitive orchid, the tight and untouched ring of rosebud pink below that. I could see the line of sex and derrière the child possessed, a single unbroken line that my sister would be exploring, exposing for me to see.

The child lay back at my sister’s insistence, and I watched, breathing quickly, my arousal unexpected and total. Chisato parted the slim, long legs and exposed the tight and unblemished slit of the girl’s delicate sex. “Be gentle, mother, please!” the girl asked in high, wavering Cantonese. Chisato smiled, understanding the tone, and touched the girl’s tender mouth, which parted soft lips and accepted the delicate golden finger, suckling lightly. I saw the tender pink tongue slide along my sister’s fingertip and felt a surprising stab of jealousy.

What was surprising was not merely the jealousy, but the desire that it have been my finger, and not my twin’s. It was discomfiting, for a moment, before I discarded all the preconceptions, the ingrained rules of others. I had never paid attention to them before; I would not start now. I watched, letting my fingers touch my breasts, my thighs, but nothing more intimate. I would wait my turn.

Gently caressing the girls face and neck Chisato was lightly licking and kissing the small, nearly non-existent breasts, licking the tiny nipples and the circles of her areolas. Her hands slid to grasp the tiny waist and I watched, curious and aroused as my twin slowly licked down lower, gracing the girl with her long, warm tongue. The girl whispered how beautiful Chisato was and I agreed with her, the first time I’d spoken to the girl. She looked at me, and smiled at my speaking a language she understtod, but was distracted by the slow kiss of heat along her tiny, delicate orchid when my sister tasted the tiny child’s warmth.

I shuddered to think of myself there, touching the delicate folds and tiny, perfect jewel between the small girl’s legs. I knew how it would look — I was seeing it now as my sister stroked and touched the shivering, arching body beneath her. Chisato looked up the line of that slender, perfect body and then to me. I watched, my breath catching again as she slowly pressed her tongue into the tiny girl’s folds, then her center, piercing her with that lovely, long, expert tongue. The girl writhed and cried out in wordless pleasure her body shaking as she actually climaxed under that delicious sensation I had experienced myself.

Sitting up when the girl’s shaking had ceased, Chisato gathered the girl into her arms and moved to me, sitting next to me. My mouth was wet, my petals nearly soaked with desire and my stomach turning with fearful anticipation. The girl looked at me sleepily, but the desire in her eyes was clear and bright. Chisato slowly set her on my lap, facing me. I was rigid with uncertainty, almost afraid. The girl reached up and touched my lips, which parted instinctively. I kissed a fingertip, a tiny, delicate finger, and closed my eyes as she kissed me.

I cannot explain it. It was absolutely forbidden, and exquisitely wonderful to press my lips against the tiny, soft, needful lips of the eight-year-old child who straddled my legs. I felt her arms go around my neck and I held her gently, kissing her carefully, afraid to harm her though I knew I would not. Chisato gently stroked my hair, moved to sit behind me. Her hand gently pulled one of my arms from the girl, and laid it along the smooth, not quite flat chest. I made a desperate noise and explored the girl’s warm, smooth body, feeling her nipples rise against my palm like tiny pebbles as we kissed. Her tongue slipped to my mouth and Chisato urged Hua to let me suck on her tongue, gesturing when words failed.

Accepting the small, warm wetness into my mouth I did so, suckling her sweetness, tasting her heat and stroking the softness with my own tongue. The girl wriggled upon my lap and my hand moved down, sliding behind her back, cupping her small, perfect derrière with one hand. I felt the line of her most sensitive places, and slowly began stroking them. Wetness soaked her, Chisato’s expertise having made her wet and ready for me to do as I wished. The girl wriggled and pressed against my breasts as we kissed and her moist petals and tiny anus pressed into my finger willingly, eagerly.

I broke the kiss and whispered softly in Cantonese to Hua. “Can I touch you in here?” I ran my fingertip along her delicate rosebud anus, sliding wetness along it. Chisato moved from behind me to crouch between our legs. I secretively offered her my finger and she suckled it lovingly, tasting the girl’s saltiness and her musk on my skin. The flush of heat that tore through my body at the thought was unexpected and Hua felt me shiver lightly.

Her soft blue eyes looked at me and she nodded with a delightful blush. Her legs and mine were spread, and Chisato licked my finger one more time, leaving it slick and wet. I slowly, carefully worked my fingertip against that tight little ring, and Hua moaned softly, her body at first tensing to reject the intrusion, and then relaxing. As she relaxed, I slipping my finger inside, not deeply, only the first joint, but it rested there and I lightly moved it, probing, teasing. Hua’s breaths were quick and she looked beautiful, eyes meeting mine, accepting I would do nothing to hurt her. She moved a little, and offered herself, pressing her body down.

Still gripping the child’s derrière lightly, I lay back, little Hua moving to rest over me on her hands and knees. I slowly slipped more and more of my finger into her, aided by Chisato’s soft tongue licking and probing at the edges of her velvet depths as well as along my finger to ease its entrance into this delicate little flower of a girl. My other hand reached under, and my finger lightly stroked her soft, delicate petals. It was wonderful, to feel her smooth skin, her tiny orchid accepting my finger gently. She moved against my hands, as I gently touched her inside, leaning down and suckling my breast lightly while holding the other one in one tiny hand.

I shuddered and then Chisato was there, between my legs, licking me, sliding her tongue from my trembling, burning flower to my own tight opening, penetrating each gently, stroking me with her loving tongue and petting my thighs with her hands. The delicate girl was trembling over me and then began to cry out, sharp, desperate cries of “Ai! Ai! Ai!” I felt her tiny sex, her virgin anus tightening, squeezing my fingers and I too felt the rush of deep pleasure, Chisato and this lovely child bringing me to my peak. Pleasure burned through me, ignited my mind and body with white fire.

We moved to the bed after long, warm moments, Chisato petting us, languid after her own bliss which she’d achieved watching and aiding Hua and I in pleasure. She murmured to me in soft Japanese. “I bought her from the Madame, Ku. I do not know what to do.” I turned and looked at her beautiful face, suddenly alarmed but too tired to be angry.

“You own her now, Chisato-chan?” A slow, ashamed nod was her only response. Hua kissed her and she smiled at the girl child nestled between us. “She has no passport.” Another brief nod, but she saw the look in my eyes, and hope bloomed in hers. The Madame had undoubtedly sold the girl to Chisato in hopes that because she had no passport she would be left behind when we left; someone would then collect her and she would once more be in the brothel, to be sold to those who wished her.

Cold fury consumed me and my mind raced. No one ever took advantage of my beautiful twin. Ever. I would fix this. “When we leave, we will take her, buy her some pretty clothing. A swimsuit as well. Take her to the pool at the hotel. I will fix this with mother and father.” Chisato smiled gratefully and kissed me, then kissed Hua, hugging the girl.

Hua asked me in soft Cantonese, “Are you my mother now also?” I smiled and nodded slowly. She kissed me firmly and snuggled against me and I stroked her soft back lightly, my other hand entangled with Chisato’s. “I’m glad,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. She began to cry and I slipped away, letting Chisato comfort her. I am not good at comforting others. But I can exact revenge….

So it was that while Chisato and Hua swam and played in the pool, I spoke with our mother and father, explaining everything. I was kneeling before them, my mother sitting on the bed, my father at the desk. My hands were in my lap. And I looked at the floor calmly.

“She and her sister have kept this and much else from us for almost… seven years? Eight years?” father asked in a slightly amused tone of voice. I did not dare look up though I was a little surprised he was not angry. We were speaking Mandarin.

“She will be good for the business, husband. I think, if they can continue as they have been, keeping our secrets as well as their own, there will be no problems.” My heart leapt and I flushed, not simply from embarrassment but also at the thought of having Hua in our bed every night. “It is no worse than your brother and my sister in our bed.” At that I had to look up, controlling the shock I felt. Father’s brother….my uncle’s eyes were a softer, lighter brown than mothers. Mother had mentioned a twin sister long ago….it explained many things, impossible things. An executive who had supposedly slept with my mother, being found murdered when our entire family had been at dinner, with witnesses claiming my mother had been seen with him. Other, similar incidents. Our eyes now had their explanation as well.

“Train her well, Kujiatieh, for she will be expected to earn her place in our family. You mother will tell you what you need to know for your new sister. I will arrange passport, your mother will file the adoption papers at once.” Father’s authoritarian commands induced me to prostrate myself, and I spoke my thanks in a nearly tearful voice. He rose up and caressed my head as he knelt next to me. “You are truly my daughter, little Ku, and your sister as well. I love you both, and would not deny you this little thing. You have shown me you will one day take my place, and it is a good thing to know your sister and mother will be taken care of should I leave you.”

I sat up and kissed my father, deeply, showing him my appreciation. He accepted it, and kissed me as warmly. My heart was ready to burst in my chest. Mother came to me and kissed me as well. My body heated at her kiss, and I wondered what it would be like, to sleep in my mothers….both my mothers’ bed, with Chisato and our new sister….