Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

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As Stacie was setting the table for dinner in the condo, she saw her mother, Carol, coming down the stairs. She was sucking her fingers and her face was flushed. Stacie had a pretty good idea what that meant — her mom had just finished masturbating. Apparently she’d decided not to wash her hands afterward but just lick them clean. Stacie caught her mother’s eye and smiled. Carol returned the smile with a wink.

Stephanie came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on her jeans. She’d washed some of the things she’d used in preparing their meal, so they’d have less to clean up later.

“Stacie, honey, I’m going to call the girls in for dinner,” Stephanie said. “Can you keep an eye on the spaghetti, make sure the water doesn’t boil over?”

“Sure, of course.”

Stepping outside the front door, Stephanie spotted the kids down by the water. But what she saw them doing shocked her. Holly and Hailey, her 8-year-old twins, were kissing each other! And it wasn’t just an innocent playful kiss either — they were pressing their young bodies together, groping, almost humping each other as they kissed.

Stephanie didn’t know what to do. Should she call out to the girls and probably embarrass them? Or should she go back inside, wait a few minutes longer, and then check on them again? Unable to decide, she stood watching. The kiss went on. From a distance, she couldn’t tell if they were using their tongues, but it seemed almost certain. She remembered the way she had kissed Hailey in bed the night before, and felt a tingle in her crotch.

As she watched her daughters kissing, still unable to make up her mind whether to go back in or call them for dinner, the decision was made for her. Jordan turned and looked toward the condo, seeing Stephanie. She evidently said something to the twins, because they broke their kiss, stepped apart, and looked up at their mom.

“Hey girls!” Stephanie called, her voice quavering a bit. “Time to eat!”

—————

There was no sign outside the door of the dinner club. It was a clean, windowless exterior in a block of small office buildings and residential duplexes. Unless you knew in advance what it was, you would have no idea what went on inside.

Angela pressed a button, gave her name when the intercom was answered, and the door buzzed open. She and her group entered. The foyer was paneled in black enamel and dimly lit, quite a contrast from outside where it was still sunny and bright at just past 7:00. It took a moment for their eyes to adjust.

Once they were all inside and the door was closed, a beautiful olive-skinned young woman came to greet them, introducing herself as Nazli. She was in her early 20s with dark hair and dark eyes, heavily made up. She wore a sheer blue veil sprinkled with beads that covered her nose and mouth but not her eyes. The sheer fabric of the veil was repeated in her top, which was really nothing more than a brassiere, almost fully transparent, revealing large round breasts with dark nipples. Below her narrow waist she wore sheer bloomer pants and jeweled sandals with low heels. They could also see a tiny g-string that just barely concealed her vulva.

The woman guided them into another room, like a parlor. It contained several padded armchairs and two long settees. The walls were papered in a dark pattern, exotic and sensuous. Red-shaded lamps gave a sultry glow. Nazli asked them to be seated. She explained to them that the dinner club, which was called The Harem, was private and exclusive, open only to people who knew the right people. Nazli requested that they not tell of their experience to anyone, at least not in terms that would reveal the location of the club. Only Angela, as a member, had the privilege to invite others to attend with her.

When that was done, Nazli led them to yet another room, the place where they would dine. It was brighter, done in pinks and yellows. Two tables with six chairs each were covered in white linen and set with gleaming silver utensils. Again she bade them to be seated.

They arranged themselves with Eve and her daughters at one of the tables along with Sheila and her two girls. Erin made sure to sit next to Gwen, and Paige sat beside Fiona. At the other table were Bridget, Tina, and Angela, each with their own daughters. Bambi and Amanda sat beside each other, of course.

Two other beautiful dark-haired girls came out, one of them bringing two pots of hot tea and the other bearing trays of olives, crackers, and yogurt dip. The girls also wore harem attire, every bit as revealing as Nazli’s, although they were younger than her, just teenagers, and their breasts were smaller.

As the tea was poured, Angela explained that for religious reasons the club did not serve alcoholic beverages. But she assured them that later, when they returned to the suite at the hotel, they could have plenty to drink if they wanted it. That got a few chuckles.

The dinner was quite an adventure, with several courses of interesting foods, exotically spiced but deliciously prepared. Even Amanda, who sometimes could be a fussy eater, seemed to like everything. And as much as they enjoyed their meal, they also enjoyed the service. No fewer than six different young girls catered to them, all with dark hair and smoky eyes, their lovely faces partially veiled but their nubile bodies temptingly displayed.

After the last course was finished and the dishes were removed, the lights were dimmed in the room. Angela smiled at the group. “Now we get the entertainment.”

She turned her chair to face toward an area near the tables with a raised platform, like a stage, framed by large potted palms. Spotlights came on, illuminating that portion of the room, even as the lights dimmed further where they were seated. The others also turned their chairs to face the stage. Music began, a strange, sinuous sound, somewhat odd to Western ears, but pleasing and romantic, even erotic.

“What do you think it’s gonna be?” Erin asked Gwen.

“I don’t know.”

That question was answered a moment later.

A woman came slinking out, moving like water in time with the music, limbs undulating, torso swaying. She was covered in veils, layer upon layer, all sheer and all different colors. It was impossible to tell what she wore beneath the diaphanous material, if anything at all. Her age was also indeterminate, although she appeared somewhat older than Nazli, perhaps in her 30s. But her body was full and voluptuous, that much they could tell, with large breasts and wide hips.

She danced beautifully, gliding and shimmying onto the stage, turning slowly in circles, then moved down to the tables, flowing around them, her darkly outlined eyes inviting contact. As she passed by Angela, the woman leaned down, bringing their faces close. She lifted the veil over her mouth and they kissed. It was a long, sensual kiss, though there was no touching except their lips. As they parted and the woman danced away, Angela leered at the group, rolling her eyes as if mesmerized. The others could see red lipstick smeared around her mouth. There were a few nervous laughs.

Then the dance took on a different tone. The music became faster, more urgent. The woman twirled and shook her body. Veils began flying off, floating in the air, some settling onto the diners, others to the floor. One after one they flew away from her until nothing was left. Nothing at all.

She was nude. The dancer’s full, ripe body glowed, burnished skin covered in a sheen of sweat. She stood on the stage, facing them, panting, one foot slightly in front of the other, hands at her sides, arms gracefully poised. The woman had no hair anywhere but her head. Her vulva was perfectly smooth, as were her legs and arms.

“Wow,” sighed Paige. “She’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” agreed Fiona, seated next to her.

Two of the young serving girls came out, carrying an armless padded chair. They set it down behind the dancer, who gently descended onto it. Accompanied by a subdued drumbeat over the sound system, she proceeded to do a series of acrobatic moves, swinging her muscular body around in the chair, sometimes pointing both legs far to one side or straight up in the air, often spreading them wide apart, bringing audible gasps from her audience.

This display went on for several minutes, her poses becoming more and more extreme, ever more unlikely. She was an expert contortionist, twisting and bending her back and her limbs in ways that brought more gasps. As the drumbeats grew faster and louder and then came to a climax, suddenly ending, the woman finished with her heels behind her head, her fingers pulling apart her labia, her dark wet vagina gaping open.

They sat stunned. There was silence in the room, only the sound of the dancer’s heavy breathing could be heard. Finally Angela began to clap and the others quickly joined her. To loud applause, the dancer uncoiled herself, stood and bowed, smiling, then glided away.

—————

After finishing their spaghetti dinner and then cleaning up the dishes, they all decided to take a sunset walk along the beach. Four women and four girls strolled out of the condo and down to the edge of the surf.

Stephanie held Veronica’s arm. Carol and Stacie walked hand in hand. Kelly stayed with the moms for a little while, watching Jordan and Hailey and Holly scamper ahead of them. But then she couldn’t resist any longer and ran off to join the kids.

They walked for a half hour or so, the girls finding a few pretty shells, teasing some sand crabs with sticks, picking up long strands of kelp and swinging them around, just generally having a good time. The sun dipped low, and then finally disappeared into the ocean. A chill in the air told them it was time to go in.

—————

Gwen was dumbfounded. Although she clapped along with the others as the dancer left the stage, she could only mumble “yeah” in agreement when Erin leaned over and said, “That was awesome, wasn’t it?”

What shocked her so much was not the dance itself, but that it was performed in front of children — girls only 12, like Fiona, or 11, like Gwen’s sister Paige, or even just 9, like Debby. A naked woman held her vagina open right in front of a 9-year-old!

Gwen didn’t know whether to be horrified or aroused, or maybe both. No one else seemed to be especially bothered by what was happening, though. Most of them, even the younger girls, were smiling and laughing. Her mother, Eve, whom Gwen knew to usually be rather prim and proper, was grinning broadly, clearly delighted by the spectacle.

She didn’t have long to contemplate what it meant, however, because a moment later two more dancers emerged, accompanied by recorded music with a low booming beat and an erotic, hypnotic melody. The lights dimmed even further in the room.

These women were younger than the previous dancer, perhaps in their early 20s, and looked very much alike, as if they might be sisters. They were dressed identically, in sheer white brassieres and long sheer white skirts, trimmed with gold fringe. Their feet were bare. Veils partially concealed their pretty faces.

Taking the stage, they danced around each other, spinning gracefully, arching their lithe bodies, extending their arms, their shapely legs sometimes appearing through full-length slits in the skirts. The audience was enthralled with their beauty and their talent.

A few minutes after beginning, the two came together, hands stroking each other’s arms, shoulders, torsos. And then, suddenly, almost magically, their brassieres were removed in unison and dropped to the floor, leaving them topless. Seconds later, the skirts disappeared as well. Now they were clad only in tiny white g-strings, plus the veils on their faces.

The dancers then glided off the stage and down to the tables, approaching each of the moms and each of the daughters one by one, shimmying in front of them, shaking their breasts, undulating their hips. They touched the faces of the audience members, caressing their cheeks, slender fingers tracing their lips.

Most did not respond except to gaze in awe, but when it was Sheila’s turn, she eagerly took a finger of the young woman into her mouth, briefly sucking on it. The dancer giggled at this, and after removing her finger, she brought it to one of her breasts, rubbing the wet fingertip over the end of an erect nipple. Everyone sighed as they watched the erotic display.

When each of the women and girls had been visited and caressed, the dancers returned to the stage, where they proceeded, still in graceful motion, to slowly remove each other’s g-strings, and last, their veils. They were nude. The music softened and slowed. The spotlights changed color, to a deep blue. The room became hushed.

Angela stood. In a quiet voice, she said to the others, “Let’s move in closer.”

They followed her lead, getting up from their chairs and forming an arc around the small stage, standing only a foot or two away from the dancers. The beautiful young women smiled at them, then turned in a gentle pirouette, exhibiting their slim sexy bodies. Their skin was much paler than the previous dancer’s, almost white, and while these women did show some very dark pubic hair, it was closely trimmed, leaving their labia smooth.

With the pirouette completed, the dancers embraced, slender arms encircling their forms, hands fluidly caressing soft skin. Their mouths came together and they kissed, tenderly at first, just painted lips on painted lips. But then, as the audience watched, the women closed their eyes and kissed more deeply, lips parting, tongues entwining, naked bodies pressing together.

Standing with her daughter Debby in front of her, arms around the girl, Bridget wondered, could these two really be sisters? They looked so much alike, it seemed that they had to be. Although, she thought, perhaps women of their ethnicity — were they Turkish, Arabian, Egyptian? Bridget had no idea — but possibly they all shared similar characteristics and looked alike. In any case, sisters or not, what they were doing certainly was hot. It made her want to touch herself.

She glanced to the side at her own sister, Sheila, who, she discovered, was touching herself. The skirt of her sundress was up around her waist, held there by one hand while the other was shoved inside her panties, moving fast. Flanking Sheila were her daughters, Erin and Fiona. Bridget saw them looking from time to time at their mother, watching her masturbate.

None of the others, as far as Bridget could tell, were playing with themselves, not yet at least. But there was a heady aura of feminine sexuality among the group gathered at the stage. She thought she could even detect the scent of pussy. And then she realized why.

Not only were the two dancers — the sisters? — hugging and kissing, but they now each had a hand down between the other’s legs, rubbing pussies, fingers sliding inside and finding slippery wetness. As close as the audience was to them, it was easy for the moms and daughters to see that the young women really were reaching inside each other’s vaginas as they kissed. Their fingers gleamed with moisture, their mingled sexual aroma strong and compelling.

Bridget took her arms from Debby for a moment, just long enough to unbutton her slacks, unzip them, and slip a hand inside her own panties. Putting the other arm around her 9-year-old daughter again, hugging her and kissing the top of her head, Bridget masturbated as she watched the dancers fuck each other’s cunts.

And then it was almost time for the climax. The music stopped. The only sounds were gentle moans from the women on the stage and heavy breathing from the audience. But the fingers inside pussies were moving faster now, fucking more urgently. They’d finished kissing, the dancers staring into each other’s eyes, as if trying to sense how close to orgasm they both were, aiming to come simultaneously. A hush of anticipation descended on the group.

It took about 30 seconds longer, and by that time, every pussy in the room was wet, even Debby’s. No one else began to masturbate, not directly, but there were plenty of thighs squeezed together, muscles clenched, clits stimulated. Nipples were stiff and erect, mouths open, wanting, tongues licking lips. It was an audience in heat, hungry for sex.

The dancers seemed to hesitate for a moment, and there was utter stillness — until in a sudden burst of final frenzied fucking they exploded together into orgasm. Sheila came at the same time, loudly. Bridget did not reach climax, but that didn’t bother her at all. It was enough just to be there, stroking her clit, feeling her warm wetness, enjoying the atmosphere of steamy lesbian sex along with her little girl and the other moms and daughters.

—————

Returning from their sunset walk along the shore, Stephanie poured diet soft drinks for the kids and snifters of brandy for the adults, and then the women and girls settled in to watch a DVD. They cuddled together under blankets on the sofa, in the loveseat, and on the floor, feeling warm and happy and close.

The movie they chose was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, always a big hit. They sang along and laughed and cheered and even cried some. At the end, they snuggled a few minutes longer, and then it was time for bed.

Continue on to Chapter 32