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The Beekeeper’s Daughters, Chapter 1

  • Posted on October 31, 2021 at 3:20 pm

by BlueJean

Summer is flowing honey.

It’s fields of poppies and nesting swifts. It’s butterflies and wildflower meadows and the sweet buzzing of bees.

Once upon a time, it was noisy sirens and diesel fumes. Overtime in hot office blocks and terrible Monday morning hangovers. Too much alcohol, too much stress, too much unhappiness.

These days I work from home, my time spent tending to the bee hives in our orchard, collecting the sweet honey they produce. We live out in the sticks, in a fairly remote part of the country, away from the hustle and bustle of city life. It’s a good place to be. Not just for me, but my two daughters. I didn’t want to raise them in a city. I wanted them to grow up around nature like I’d done when I was little; to have space to run wild, to breathe clean air, to learn that we’re all just a small part of a bigger whole.

Freya and Millie loved school summer holidays. They kept themselves occupied by running through fields, playing in the woods and paddling in the little stream that snaked its way alongside our thatched cottage. Some days it was a real struggle to get them to come inside to eat or sleep.

They were playing in their treehouse at the bottom of our garden with our Hungarian Vizsla puppy Bee, who was barking up at the girls in frustration when I called them inside to help me make dinner.

Ten-year-old Freya descended first, followed by her little sister, seven-year-old Millie. Bee danced around them happily as they ran back to the house.

I noticed they had their naughty faces on, all smiles and twinkling eyes. They liked to think that their mum didn’t notice these things, but being a beekeeper teaches you to be observant.

“What have you been up to, imps?” I asked them as I cut up some chicken thighs.

Freya glanced at her sister knowingly. “Nothing…”

“Just playing in the treehouse,” Millie said innocently.

“Hmm.” I looked down at Bee, who was sitting on the kitchen floor like a good girl, waiting for a piece of meat she wasn’t going to get. “What were they doing, Bee? Were they being naughty up there?”

The puppy obviously thought I meant, Jump up here and help yourself to this chicken. “No, Bee. Down. Down!” I commanded and she sat back down, tail sweeping the floor enthusiastically, still hoping for a treat.

Millie got down on her haunches and stroked the pup behind the ears. “Good girl, Bee.”

“Freya, can you cut up a cucumber and some tomatoes?” I asked my eldest daughter.

“Okay,” Freya said and went to the fridge.

“What shall I do, Mummy?” Millie asked me.

“You can separate the tortillas and put them on a baking tray.”

“‘Kay.”

When all the ingredients were ready, the three of us had fun making our own fajitas. Millie, as usual, tried to put too much filling into her tortillas and couldn’t roll them up, so I gave her a knife and fork.

Freya chuckled at her sister. “You always do that, Millie.”

“I like them like this,” Millie insisted, trying to pick up a fajita that looked more like a collapsed tent. The filling fell out of the sides and ended up back on her plate, except for a stray piece of chicken which bounced on the kitchen floor and was snatched up by a pleased looking Bee.

“Just use the knife and fork, that’s why I put them there for you,” I told my seven-year-old, and she gave me a big sigh before begrudgingly picking up her cutlery. Half the fun of fajitas was eating them with your hands, after all.

Freya picked up one of her own neatly rolled fajitas and gave Millie a smug grin as she nibbled daintily on it.

“At least I don’t show people my kitty,” Millie muttered.

“I beg your pardon?” I said, nearly choking on my own fajita.

“Shut up, Millie,” Freya told her sister, and gave me an abashed look.

“She showed me loads of times, and some other girls at school too,” Millie said.

“I didn’t.”

“You did! She did, Mummy.”

“So? You showed me yours, too,” Freya shot back.

“Only because you made me, though.”

“Just the first time. Then you wanted to show me after that.”

“No, I didn’t. You want to show me all the time.”

You do.”

“No, you do! She does, Mummy!”

“Enough, please!” I told them sternly. “Both of you stop talking about your private bits and eat your dinner.”

The girls gave each other dirty looks, then went back to their meals.

So Freya was starting to think about that kind of thing, was she? I suppose I must have been of a similar age when I began to be curious about what was between my legs. It was a natural part of growing up, and I knew enough about nature to keep me from feeling threatened by such revelations. I wasn’t sure Millie needed to know about that just yet, though. It was all just harmless fun, I reasoned.

Later in the week, I was out in the orchard doing my twice weekly inspection of the hives while Bee and the girls played in the poppy field next to our cottage. Every now and then I could see two little heads moving through the tall red flowers.

The colonies were doing okay. No parasites, all queens present and correct. Soon the honey would be ready for the first harvest of the year.

As I secured the hives and closed the gate to the orchard, I noticed the girls hadn’t appeared for a while. I could hear Bee barking, though, so I knew they were still amongst the poppies somewhere. I put my smoker down and removed my protective veil, thinking it would be fun to sneak up and surprise them.

I strolled towards the field and entered a sea of red.

The poppies were almost a metre tall – plenty big enough to hide two little girls, but I knew the puppy would give them away. I homed in on Bee’s yapping, crouching down and sneaking through the flowers until I could hear the soft murmur of voices.

“Rub against me harder.” That was Freya.

“I am,” I heard Millie reply.

I crawled forward on my hands and knees as quietly as I could and saw movement between the poppy stalks. I froze, knowing if I moved any closer, Bee would find me.

“Don’t squeeze my bum so hard!” Millie told her sister.

“I’m trying to pull you in more, that’s all.”

The girls were in a little clearing of squashed poppies. Freya was lying on her back with Millie on top of her, the pair of them rubbing their groins together, shorts and panties pulled round their ankles. Bee sat next to them and let out a frustrated yap every now and then, as if asking them what on earth they were doing.

Shush, Bee!” Freya whispered to the pup.

Millie tried to push the puppy away half-heartedly. “Go home, Bee!”

I should have turned around and crept away. This was an invasion of their privacy and it didn’t feel right spying on them. But I was also struck by the erotic beauty of the scene before me, and couldn’t quite bring myself to avert my gaze and leave.

Freya cupped her little sister’s buttocks as they rubbed their slits together. “Do you like it?” she asked.

“Mm-hmm,” Millie hummed, her little bum cheeks clenching as she humped her sister.

“Go down a bit,” Freya told her.

“Huh?”

“You keep missing my kitty. Go down a bit, so they’re rubbing together more.”

“‘Kay.” Millie gazed down between her big sister’s legs so she could do some fine tuning.

“That’s better. Now rub against me really hard.”

“Stop saying that, I’m trying to!” Millie whined.

“Shhh!”

The puppy told them off again and poked them with a paw for good measure.

“Go away, Bee!” Freya shooed and the two girls giggled.

I kept as still as I could behind the poppies, careful even not to breathe too loudly. I was enthralled. Even a little… No. Not aroused. These were my little girls, for heaven’s sake. If witnessing this scene of adolescent frolicking was turning me on, I reasoned it was a perfectly natural physical reaction – not a psychological one. I didn’t have much control over several million years of hardwired primal behaviour, after all.

“It feels really nice,” Freya was saying. “It’s making my kitty feel all funny. Rub on me harder.”

“Don’t keep saying it!” Millie hissed.

“Let’s do a kiss,” Freya suggested.

Millie screwed her face up. “Urgh, no way!”

I had to stifle a laugh. Suddenly, Bee looked right at me.

I crawled backwards, but it was too late. The puppy stalked me warily through the poppies, not sure who or what I was. I managed to get up on my feet and tried to sneak away but Bee caught up to me, screwing up her snout in a smile and thrashing her tail around in excitement, having discovered who I was. I held a finger up to my lips to shush her, as if a dog was going to understand that.

“Quick, pull your pants up! I think someone’s coming!” I heard a frantic Freya tell her sister.

I reached the edge of the field with Bee jumping up at me excitedly, then stood up and shouted to my daughters, to make it seem like I’d just arrived. “Girls? Are you in there?”

Two little heads popped up amidst the ocean of flowers.

A flushed looking Freya hollered back, “Yeah, we’re here!”

“We were just playing,” Millie added, looking a bit guilty.

I headed back towards the cottage with Bee nibbling at my ankles. “Come inside and get cleaned up.”

“Aww!” they both whined.

***

Me and my sister like to do rude things together sometimes.

Oh, wait.

I should have said who I was first.

I’m Freya and my little sister is Millie. My mum’s real name is Georgia but obviously we just call her Mum or Mummy.

There.

So lately I started feeling funny between my legs and I found out that it feels really good to touch myself down there. At school, I showed my kitty to a couple of friends under the table and they showed me theirs and then later on at home I asked Millie if she wanted to see it. Millie said no but I showed her anyway. Soon I got her to show me hers and it became like a fun game for us to flash each other when Mum wasn’t around.

When Mum nearly caught us in the poppy field, it was the first time we had rubbed our kitties together like that. It felt really exciting and I didn’t think it would be the last time we did it.

Now I’ll tell you about Mr. Dalliard, who has nothing to do with us rubbing our kitties together but it’s quite interesting anyway.

Mr. Dalliard is a nice old man who lives in a house near ours and comes over sometimes to help Mum with carpentry and painting and odd jobs and stuff. My sister is sure that he’s the oldest man in the world but I think that’s just something he told her as a joke. He is pretty old though.

Oh. He also built our treehouse.

Today he was round our house to help Mum repair and paint some old beehives. Mum insisted they use water based paint as it’s better for the bees and for the environment too but Mr. Dalliard said oil based was better and that’s what he had used his whole life. Mum won.

“She won’t last five minutes, girl,” Mr. Dalliard told Mum as he slapped the paint on with a brush. No idea why but Mr. Dalliard likes to call things ‘she’ and ‘he’. Weird.

“Water based paint’s much better than it used to be,” Mum told him.

“The weather’ll get into her, you mark my words,” Mr. Dalliard grumped.

Millie asked him the same question she asked him every time. “Mr. Dalliard, how old are you?”

“Older’n any person alive, young’un,” Mr. Dalliard told my sister, grinning.

I don’t think he’s ever called us by our actual names. It’s always ‘young’un’ or ‘littlun’ or ‘whippersnapper’ and stuff like that. I keep meaning to Google ‘whippersnapper’.

“Yeah, but how old?” Millie kept on. My sister is almost as stubborn as Mr. Dalliard.

“How old d’ye think I is?”

“I dunno ’cause you never tell me.”

“Guess then.”

“Um… as old as Yoda?”

“Who the ‘ell’s Yoga?”

Yoda, not Yoga! He’s the leader of the Jedi,” Millie explained.

“Oh, I see. How old’s ‘e then?”

“About… five hundred years old, I think.”

Mr. Dalliard did a loud, coughy noise that was probably a laugh.

“I saw an old Japanese lady on YouTube who was a hundred and twenty and there’s no way you’re that old,” I told him, pleased with myself.

“Don’t gimme that YouTube rubbish!” Mr. Dalliard wheezed, having none of it. “It were prolly someone ‘avin’ a prank.”

“No, it was real,” I insisted.

“Bah, you can keep yer YouTubes and yer Yoghurts. I’s the oldest bloke in the world, and tha’s a fact.”

Millie studied Mr. Dalliard closely for a bit. “He might be,” she finally said to me.

“He’s not,” I said in a quiet voice, a little annoyed.

“I’m sure if Mr. Dalliard wanted you to know how old he was, he’d tell you,” Mum told us.

“Ask the lady in the tree, she’ll tell ya how old I is,” Mr. Dalliard said as he slapped on more paint.

“What lady?” I asked.

“The old Dryad, one that lives in the big ole oak down yonder. Knew me as a young’un, she did.”

Me, my sister and Mum gave each other a funny look. Mr. Dalliard said weird stuff sometimes.

“Okay, Mr. Dalliard,” Mum said. “Would you like another cup of tea?”

I better remember to Google ‘Dryad’ too.

Later on that evening after Mum had sent us to bed, I thought about sharing my secret with my sister but I wasn’t sure if she could be trusted after telling Mum about me flashing my kitty.

“Millie?” I said to her as she read her book in the bed next to mine.

“What?”

“Why did you tell Mum about me showing my kitty?”

“‘Cause you laughed at my fajitas.”

“I didn’t mean to laugh, but we have to keep stuff like that secret, okay?”

Millie looked up from her book. “Okay I’m sorry, I won’t tell Mummy again.”

“D’you promise?”

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

Millie sighed dramatically. “I promise not to tell Mummy about the rude things.”

Satisfied that she would keep her word, I pulled something out from under my pillow. “Look what I have,” I gasped with a grin

Millie put her book down. “What is it?”

“A pair of Mum’s knickers!”

“Why do you have those?”

“I took them from the washing basket.”

“Yeah, but why?”

I climbed out of bed and tiptoed over to my sister’s bed with the knickers in my hand. I sat down and held them near her face. “Smell them.”

“I don’t want to,” Millie said, pulling away.

“Go on, they smell really nice,” I insisted.

“Like what?”

“Like Mum’s kitty,” I said and took a big sniff.

“Okay, I’ll try them,” my sister decided.

I held the soiled panties under her nose again. Millie took a little sniff, then a bigger one.

“Do you like the smell?” I asked her.

Millie shrugged. “It’s okay.”

“Just okay?” I said, disappointed. How could the smell not be as exciting to her as it was to me?

“I don’t mind it, but sneaking Mummy’s dirty knickers into our room is a bit weird.”

“Will you rub your kitty on mine while I smell them?”

Millie giggled. “Okay.”

I went back to lay on my own bed and pulled my knickers and pyjama bottoms down round my ankles. Millie crept over and pulled hers down too. She climbed over me and lowered herself onto my body.

“Make sure they’re touching together,” I told her.

As my sister lay on top of me and rubbed herself against my kitty, I opened my mum’s dirty panties and inspected them. They were just normal cotton knickers, light blue with a yellow trim. There were some stains in there, some yellow ones and some whitish ones.

I held them up to my nose and breathed in. I’m not sure I can describe how they smelled, kind of fruity and dirty, but I really liked it. And with my little sister rubbing her private parts on mine it felt even better.

I pushed the panties into Millie’s face. “Are you sure you don’t like the smell?”

Stop it, Freya!” my sister said but she was grinning when she said it so I didn’t think she was too bothered.

“I wonder why my panties don’t smell this good,” I mused.

“They would do if you didn’t wash them.”

I gave Mum’s panties another sniff. “I really like doing this.”

“The rubbing thing or smelling Mummy’s knickers?”

“Both, but I meant the rubbing.”

“I like it too.”

My kitty felt really tingly and almost sore and I felt like I was building up to something but I wasn’t sure what and I wasn’t sure how to get there. But it felt nice anyway.

I put Mum’s panties over Millie’s head so she was wearing them like a balaclava.

“Take them off, Freya!” my sister squealed.

“Shhh!” I whispered, laughing.

Millie pulled the knickers off her head and threw them at me. “You’re horrible!” The little smile in the corner of her mouth told me she didn’t really mean it, though.

“I can hear you up there! Go to sleep!” Mum shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

Millie climbed off me, pulled her panties and pyjamas back up and scampered back to her own bed.

I covered myself up with my summer quilt but kept my panties pulled down. I wanted to touch myself down there and smell Mum’s knickers a bit more before I went to sleep.

***

It was mid-morning, and Freya and Millie were playing outside in the stream while I made a quick zoom call to my friend and the girls’ teacher Sadie, or Miss Laine as she was known to my two daughters. If possessing a natural kind of beauty that was the envy of most women wasn’t enough, she was also a pillar of the community, working tirelessly to help her young charges, and organising various events around the village. I should have wanted to slap her repeatedly for being so unbelievably nice, but the universe clearly had other ideas for Sadie Laine and myself when it decided we were going to be best friends.

“Good morning, Miss Laine,” I droned, imitating her pupils’ traditional morning greeting.

Sadie laughed at my foolishness. “Can you see me?” she asked.

We had only recently discovered online meetings. Neither of us were particularly tech savvy, but the novelty hadn’t worn off yet.

I sat down on the couch with a cup of herbal tea, and drew my legs up underneath me. “Yeah, I can see you. You’re looking horrifically beautiful as usual. Some of us have to make an effort to look good, you know.”

Sadie swished her long chestnut hair back in an exaggerated manner. “What a nice compliment! I think…”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I told her, laughing.

“What are you up to?” Sadie asked me.

“Uh, this and that. Herbs to plant, beekeeper study, lots of little maintenance jobs to do around the house. I don’t like to rely on Mr. Dalliard too much, he’s not getting any younger.”

“No, poor old bugger.”

“How ’bout you?”

“I’m still working my way through marking the kids’ mock exams. The vicar wants me to help with the church fête, too.”

“Tell him to get someone else. He’s always asking you for help.”

“I don’t mind. You know I like to keep busy.”

“He takes advantage,” I told her. The vicar was a slimy little fucker in my opinion. And there were long standing rumours he couldn’t keep his willy inside his cassock.

“Oh, don’t be a meanie! He’s not so bad,” Sadie said. “Are the girls behaving?”

I rolled my eyes. “Mostly…”

“What? Are they being naughty?”

“Not naughty really but… well…”

“Do they need Miss Laine to come round and give them a good talking to?” Sadie said, trying to put on a stern looking face.

“Freya has discovered her vagina,” I declared.

Sadie burst out laughing. “Oh, my goodness! How embarrassing!”

I smiled. “Yeah, she’s going through that ‘flash your kitty at anything that moves’ phase, I’m afraid.”

Sadie managed to compose herself, went to speak and then fell apart laughing again. Even her laugh was attractive – soft and infectious.

I had a little giggle with her. “That’s it, get it out of your system. I was hoping for some teacherly advice, but you’re no help at all.”

“I’m sorry, it was just the way you said it!” Sadie chuckled. “To be honest, I’ve caught her and some of the other girls doing it at school too.”

“Really?”

“Yes. They didn’t know I was watching, but I could see what they were doing under the table. Kids aren’t very good at hiding things.”

“Didn’t you tell them off?”

“Well, I don’t want to humiliate them in front of the class, so I just tell them to stop messing about and pay attention to their work.”

“Oh, okay. Maybe I need to have a chat with her, she’s got Millie doing it now too.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s pretty normal for kids to be doing that sort of thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. I seem to recall doing it myself when I was around Freya’s age.”

Sadie gave me a naughty look. “Didn’t we all? I used to love flashing my pussy to all the other little girls and boys.”

I put a hand to my mouth and let out a scandalised gasp. “Prim and proper Sadie Laine, a pussy flasher? Surely not!”

Sadie creased up again. “I did! I was awful!”

“Well, I certainly hope the vicar doesn’t find out what a little hussy his favourite helper used to be!”

We both fell about laughing like a couple of schoolgirls until Sadie fanned herself with a hand and declared, “Oh dear, I’m getting all flushed!”

“Okay, I’m gonna go before I pee myself,” I told her.

“All right. Let’s meet up sometime. This is fun, but there’s no substitute for good old fashioned get-togethers.”

“I agree.”

“Say hi to the girls!”

“Will do!”

“Bye!”

“Bye-bye!”

We both sat there staring at each other.

“I don’t know how to turn it o-off!” Sadie sang.

“Me nei-ther!” I warbled back.

“I’m just gonna push random buttons until something happens…”

“Me too, then. See you later!”

“Bye! I hope the girls don’t flash their fa—”

Not sure what I had pressed but Sadie was cut off mid sentence and the screen went black. I closed my laptop, chuckling to myself. “Daft cow.”

***

Me, Millie and Bee followed the little stream next to our house down past the wheat fields, eels and little fish darting away to avoid us. We took our sandals off – not Bee, she doesn’t wear sandals – and paddled barefoot through the cool, clear water. Mum had made sure we went out with our sun hats on to keep our heads from getting burned.

Whenever we came to a wider part of the stream, we would stop and play for a bit, splashing each other with water and climbing up the shallow bank to see if there was anything worth investigating. Bee wanted to eat everything in sight and I had to keep pulling things out of her mouth.

Soon we came to a part of the stream that was so wide, it had a little flat shingle island and an old dead log in the middle of it. I think it might have been wide enough to call a river.

“This would be a good place to make camp,” I said to my sister. I was the voice of authority on camping and survival but my sister was good with fish and insects.

“I dunno if we’d fit a tent on here, it’s quite a little island,” Millie said, bending down to inspect the log.

“We’d get a small tent on here easy-peasy.”

“What’s the point of camping in the middle of a river though?” my sister argued.

“Shut up, I know more about camping than you,” I told her.

You shut up.”

I decided it was time to break camp and get back on our journey. “Let’s keep following the stream.”

“We shouldn’t go much farther,” Millie said. “Mummy said not to go too far away from the house.”

“We’re not that far, Millie. She meant like miles away.”

“A dragonfly!” my sister yelled and pointed to a shimmering turquoise shape hovering near the far bank.

“Oh wow, it’s beautiful!”

“It’s really pretty! Let’s follow it!” Millie said and splashed across the stream towards the flying insect.

“Come on, Bee!” I shouted to the puppy and we ran after my sister.

We climbed up the bank and chased the dragonfly across a field of golden rapeseed, laughing as we ran along with our sandals in our hands, Bee barking at us.

“Ow!” Millie shouted and bent down to rub her foot.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her as I came to a halt.

“I stepped on something sharp. I’m gonna put my sandals back on.”

“Me too,” I said and we both slipped back into our sandals.

The dragonfly had flown off but when I looked across the field I could see a massive tree just on the other side. “Millie, look,” I said, pointing at it.

“It’s huge!”

We ran over to the edge of the field and climbed over a low wooden fence, while Bee scrambled underneath. It was an oak tree, I knew, and it was definitely the biggest one I had ever seen in my life, maybe thirty or forty feet wide, all gnarly, with big roots snaking out. It sat on a big patch of grass where two dirt roads came together.

“I think this is the tree Mr. Dalliard was talking about,” I told my sister.

“Is it?”

“Maybe. I remember Mum taking us to see it too, when we were little.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“She said it was the oldest tree in the country.”

“Mr. Dalliard said a tree lady lived in it,” my sister mused.

“It’s called a Dryad. Like a tree nymph or something.”

Millie cupped her hands together over her mouth and hollered, “Hello tree lady!”

A crow perching on a branch above cawed down at us. Bee told it off but then whimpered, having second thoughts.

As I looked up I could see a shape in the massive tree trunk – almost like a person trapped in there if you looked at it from a certain angle and squinted.

I think my sister saw it too. “Freya, I want to go home,” she told me in a worried voice.

“Me too,” I agreed and we ran along the dirt track, back to the safety of our little cottage.

***

I spent the afternoon planting my herbs, but it was far too hot inside the greenhouse, and honestly, the thought of exerting myself on my other neglected maintenance tasks on such a stifling day kind of drained my spirit. So I sought sanctuary in the cool interior of our cottage to busy myself with a bit of half-hearted housework.

I usually made the girls tidy up their own bedroom, knowing it did them both good to take responsibility for their own things and learn how to clean up after themselves. But seeing as I was running the hoover round upstairs anyway, I thought I might as well vacuum their room.

But as I was hoovering under Freya’s bed, I caught a glimpse of something sticking out from under her pillow. I turned the hoover off and pulled the material out. A pair of my panties? What were they doing here? I brought them to my nose and discovered they were dirty. I could only assume my eldest daughter had fished them out of the washing basket and smuggled them back to her room.

But why would she do that? The obvious answer was that my ten-year-old had developed some kind of panty fetish, which seemed a bit ridiculous. Were little girls even into that kind of kink?

Maybe I was just jumping to conclusions. Perhaps Millie had put them under there as a joke. I’m sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation why Freya had a pair of my dirty knickers hidden under her pillow. Was it even that big a deal in the greater scheme of things?

I was feeling incredibly horny all of a sudden. I’m sure there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for that, too.

I put my panties back under Freya’s pillow, left the hoover where it was and went to my room. I lay back on my bed, pulled my trousers and panties down to my knees, then snaked a hand between my legs. My other hand slipped inside my t-shirt and found my breasts. I don’t usually wear a bra these days – finding them too restrictive and uncomfortable – so I was free to massage my tits and pinch my nipples without hindrance.

I pushed my fingers through my hot labia, then back up to smear my essence through my bush. God, how I loved the smell of pussy juice on pubic hair. Did Freya enjoy my smell too? I wondered if she lay in her bed at night with my dirty knickers held to her face?

I tried to push that image aside and replace it with other, more acceptable ones. Invariably, it was lesbian imagery that filled my mind – pussy against pussy, breast against breast, the scents and sounds of other females. I’d been married to a man once, but these days, most of my masturbatory fantasies seemed to involve other women.

But the image of my ten-year-old daughter smelling my soiled panties wouldn’t go away, so I let it back in, along with the recent memory of Freya and Millie rubbing their pussies together in the poppy field. I pulled my linen trousers off and spread my legs wide, plunging two fingers inside myself, then scissoring them in and out.

“Oh God, yes,” I moaned and lifted my t-shirt up to smear pussy juice across my nipples. Fuck, that wonderful smell. My fingers found my cunt again and I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensations radiating through my body while a gentle breeze blew across my skin from the open window.

Did Freya finger herself too as she sniffed my panties?

“Fuck…”

Did you hump your pillow while you enjoyed Mummy’s dirty knickers, sweetie?

“Gonna… come.”

Did you rub yourself against your little sister as you breathed in Mummy’s aroma?

“Oh, sweetie… that’s so dirty…”

I erupted into orgasm, eyes tight shut, hands clamped against my cunt as little convulsions racked my body. I hadn’t come this hard in a while. “Christ…” I groaned, surrendering to the ecstasy that washed over me.

“Mummy, we saw the lady in the tree!” Millie squealed as she came bounding into my bedroom with Freya and the puppy.

Shit!” I hissed, snapping my legs together and frantically trying to cover myself with a pillow. “Lady? In a tree? Er… well, that sounds nice! Who wants ice cream?”

Oh, dear…

On to Chapter Two!

 

A Model Companion, Part Two

  • Posted on October 26, 2021 at 3:05 pm

By Louisa May

“Hey, how come I have ninety-seven bags and you have two?” Valerie was scowling as she lugged her purchases into the elevator, Lara close behind.

“Because I am young and dainty, and you are my servant,” the girl replied.

“Hmmph,” mock-grumped Valerie, who had to admit to herself that little Lara was a dainty-looking creature. “What’s in those two bags, anyhow? Crammed full of brand new thongs for eleven-year-old supermodel Lara Lofgren, huh? Go on, admit it.”

“Hey!” Lara swung her bags at Valerie’s knees, a slight blush appearing on her pale cheeks. “I didn’t get any thongs, smarty! Oh! But yesterday, when me and Mom were at the grocery store? There were some older kids from school there, one of them bent over at the paying line, and we saw her thong! It was totally showing over her jeans!”

“It’s the style, I guess,” Valerie murmured as they arrived at her floor. The door slid open; they emerged.

“Yeah. My school’s getting so weird these days… yeek!” Lara exclaimed as Valerie opened the door to her apartment. “Oh! There’s something I wanted to tell you about.” She absently handed her packages to Valerie, who placed them on the floor by the couch with her own bags.

Valerie couldn’t help but be amused by Lara’s quicksilver tendency to shift the topic of discussion at the drop of a hat. Of course, she was only eleven. Seating herself on the arm of the couch, she murmured, “Tell me what?”

“Well.” Lara took the stage in front of Valerie, highly animated in white tennis shorts and Card Captor t-shirt, her small, delicate hands rising to frame the story. “Last week, at my friend’s house, her boyfriend was there, and he tried to kiss me!” She nodded sagely. Valerie’s brows rose. “Well, actually, he did kiss me. When Amber wasn’t there. And you know what?”

“What?”

“He was So. Yucky. Eeeeuugghh!” She put both hands to her face. “He was, like, all sticking his tongue out, slobbering all over me… Uggghh!” She shuddered, then frowned at Valerie. “Is that how boys always kiss?”

“Well, it depends.” Valerie folded her arms across her chest. “I guess it’s how that boy kisses.”

“Well, if that’s kissing,” Lara seated herself on the coffee table, “I’m done with it. Forever.”

“Noooo… that’s definitely not kissing, not the way it’s supposed to be.”

“‘Cause, last summer a boy kissed me, and it was just… boring. Like a long, boring old movie.”

“Oh, Lara, kissing can be great.”

Lara looked up at Valerie, doubtful. “Really?”

“Sure.” Valerie tilted her head, observing the girl. “These guys were both amateurs. They don’t know any more about kissing than they do about… astronomy!”

Lara smiled. “Doofuses, you mean.”

“Yes. Doofuses, indeed.”

Lara took a big breath and let it out. “But I’m kind of a doofus too, I guess, ’cause I don’t know any more about kissing than they did.”

“Hm.” Valerie sat, her lower lip pushed out as she thought. She opened her mouth, then thought better of it. Lara looked up at Valerie, eyes wide; a questioning look.

Oh, what the hell. “You want to learn?” Valerie asked.

Lara’s eyes rose. “About kissing?” A grin, a blinding twinkle in her eye.

Valerie rolled her eyes. “No, astronomy. Doofus.”

Lara stuck her tongue out, then smiled shyly. “Um… maybe I do. Yeah.”

Valerie sat on the couch, then patted the cushion next to hers. Lara scrambled around the coffee table and plunked down next to her, legs together, hands clasped studiously in her lap.

“Okay.” Valerie took a breath. “Breathe in,” Lara did, a small, very intrigued smile on her face. “Now out.” Again, the child obliged. Valerie looked down at that pretty, pretty face and shook her head, dazzled by Laura’s innocent beauty. “I’m going to teach you by kissing you. Is that okay?” Lara gave a quick, very eager nod. “Okay.” She leaned over until they were almost touching nose to nose, the girl’s eyes widening as Valerie drew closer.

Just as her lips were about to brush Lara’s, Valerie sat back, considering. “Y’know…” she said, “why don’t you sit on my lap? It’ll be easier.”

Lara hastened to obey, resting her pert little bottom sideways on Valerie’s thighs, the child’s sneakered feet dangling down.

“Yeah, that’s better. Okay. Ready?”

Lara’s lips were trembling. “Yeah…”

Valerie smiled. “Boy, I never coached anyone through a kiss before, it feels a little strange. But. First.” She gazed into Lara’s wide, blue eyes. “You know how much I care about you, right?” Lara nodded. “And that you’re my best, best friend.”

Lara blushed, and her eyes filled a little. She took a deep breath, then almost whispered. “You’re my best, bestest friend too, Valerie.” She swallowed. “R-really.”

“Good. See, it’s all about kissing someone you care about. Otherwise, you might as well not bother.”

“Cause then,” Lara declared, “you’ll be kissing doofuses.”

Valerie grinned, and put a finger to Lara’s cute button nose. “Yep, that’s right. So first,” she leaned slowly into Lara’s face, “we say hi.” She touched noses, and looked cross-eyed into Lara’s eyes. “Hi.”

Lara giggled. “Hi.”

“Then a little touch, to get to know you.” She just brushed Lara’s soft, trembling lips with her own. “Now you do that to me.”

Lara closed her eyes and, puckering a bit, briefly touched her lips to Valerie’s mouth.

“There. Not too bad so far, huh?” Lara shook her head. “Good. Now let’s let our lips be relaxed, and just kiss and nibble for a little bit. Okay?”

“Um, okay.” Lara made a tragic, I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing face.

“No, no, don’t tense up on me, sweetie. You’re doing great. My crystal ball predicts that you’re going to be an awesome kisser.”

“You — you really think so?”

“I know so. Now let’s do this.” Valerie leaned in, gently touched her lips to the corner of Lara’s mouth, then drew back. Lara hesitated for a couple of heartbeats, then did the same. Little bird kisses, thought Valerie. Then she moved in to playfully nibble Lara’s lower lip.

Catching Valerie by surprise, Lara responded by fastening, lightly, on her friend’s upper lip. She liked the feel of its plumpness. Valerie was so gentle, too — a far cry from stupid boys and their forceful way of kissing.

And as Valerie’s lips parted, Lara found her own smaller lips pleasantly surrounded by the woman’s warmth. Wanting more, she began to press forward, drifting into a warm, happy place she seemed to share with Valerie; the two of them reduced to lips, mouth, and breath.

So when the slow, warm thickness of Valerie’s tongue joined the dream, Lara could only meet it with her own, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. She sensed a heat, a lovely, lovely longing, and felt a humming that seemed to radiate through her body.

Lara’s mouth and lips were open now as she surrendered completely to Valerie, her eyes squeezed shut. She drank Valerie up, breathing deeply through her nose. Every so often a little cry would escape her as she came up for air; then she’d dive back into the kiss, back into the lips and arms and love of her older friend.

Indeed, Lara had wrapped both arms around the woman, hugging her as tightly as she was able, vaguely aware of Valerie’s erect nipples, barely covered by her thin top.

With a stifled gasp, her pulse racing like mad, Valerie gently drew herself away from Lara. There was a soft wet kissing sound, and a thin string of saliva.

Lara sat statue-like, arms still open, eyes closed, her wet, pink lips slightly parted. After a moment, her eyes opened. She looked around as if she’d just descended back to earth from paradise.

Maybe she really did, Valerie thought. She gave the girl a hesitant smile. “Was that okay?”

Stunned into silence, Lara just stared at Valerie for the longest time — so long that Valerie started to grin, then to giggle.

Lara finally joined her, a near-hysterical edge to her laughter. When it wound down, she took a deep, deep breath, then another. Then, affecting a look of mild boredom, she shrugged. “Yeah, it was okay.” And she fell back onto the couch, squealing “Gaaaah!” Quickly sitting back up, she said, “Omigosh, Valerie! That was… whoa, it was the best thing ever!”

Valerie reached out to tap Lara’s bare knee. “So. Kissing can be good, right?”

The child slowly nodded. “Yes. Kissing can be good. Yes.” She gave Valerie a bashful smile, then added, “With you.”

Valerie looked down at her younger friend with a solemn smile. “Yes. Lucky me.” She touched Lara’s cheek. “And maybe, eventually, with the right guy.”

“No, thanks!” Lara said, making a face. “Buncha doofuses.”

“Some, not all,” Valerie stood. She picked up a bag. “Now. Shall we hit the swimming pool downstairs?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” Just like that, Lara was her usual bouncy self.

Valerie had retrieved a package and handed it to the girl. “For you, my lady.”

One glance had Lara bouncing even higher. She danced a butt-wiggle, the package raised triumphantly over her head. “Yay! I got a bikiiii-ni, I got a bikiiii-ni!”

Valerie had already begun to disrobe. As Lara quickly unwrapped her new bathing suit, she couldn’t help marvelling at her older friend’s wonderfully sensual body: the tight flat belly, the smooth, lithe thighs, and ohh, those breasts, the nipples still visibly swollen. But Lara’s most favorite part of Valerie was her luscious, apple-shaped bottom.

“Come on, hurry up, girl — the pool’s drying out!” Valerie said. Lara had slowed down, fascinated by the view of her older friend, and now hurriedly shucked the rest of her clothes.

Now naked but for her socks, Lara bent over to remove those as well. Just as she’d slipped off the left one, she heard Valerie say, “Wait.” Lara turned to look questioningly at Valerie, still holding her sock.

“I just had to look at you.” Valerie took a step closer. “SO perfect, my God.”

Lara was pleased, though she still felt a bit shy. She’d been naked with Valerie before, but never on display like this.

“You don’t mind letting me see all of you, right?” Lara quickly shook her head. She didn’t mind, not at all. “I love your skin, Lara. It’s… it’s absolutely flawless!”

“Thank you, Valerie,” the girl replied. “I like… you looking at me.”

It was more than just looking, really — Valerie was gazing at her as if she was a work of art. She put a hand on Lara’s shoulder, stroking the soft skin. “God. You’re amazing.” The hand traveled along the girl’s neck, then across the upper chest, just above her barely-there breasts, causing the nipples to stiffen.

“Now turn around,” said Valerie. Lara silently obeyed, feeling herself blush all over. That made her blush even more.

Valerie noticed, which only added to her arousal. Lara’s skin seemed so pale and fine that it was almost translucent. Unable to take her hand away, she allowed it to glide slowly down the girl’s back, enjoying the perfect smoothness. Then Valerie was cupping that perfect little bottom, slightly upthrust and rounded. The cheeks contracted to her touch. She felt the tension, how it almost raised Lara up on tiptoe.

Stepping away, nervously toying with her fingers, Valerie said, “Thanks, Lara. You — you’re a lovely girl.”

Lara seemed flustered — guilty, even. “I was… I didn’t…”

“It’s fine, kiddo.” Valerie lightly smacked Lara’s thigh, back to her cheerful self in an instant. “But now, we’ve gotta hustle if we want any quality pool time!”

Disoriented for a few heartbeats, Lara quickly struggled into her suit, then followed her friend into the hallway.

***

Two hours later, Lara and Valerie lay side by side, dozing peacefully.

They’d swam and cavorted in the pool for a good long while, then shambled back upstairs exhausted. So Valerie took out a silk nightie that was too small for her and offered it to Lara, then selected one for herself. Stripping out of their sodden bikinis, they donned the nighties, tucked themselves into Valerie’s bed and slept.

Slowly drifting into wakefulness, Valerie blinked her eyes open, then glanced to the left. There was little Lara, studying her intently.

Valerie hoisted herself into a sitting position, where she yawned and stretched. “Ooooggghhh! Good morning, Glory. Well, okay, it’s really afternoon. Have a good nap?”

“Uh-huh,” Lara said, then fell silent, continuing to gaze at Valerie.

Valerie smiled at the girl, waiting for her to speak, finally murmuring, “Yes?”

Lara took a breath; let it out. “Well…”

“What is it, sweetie? Is anything wrong?”

Lara let her head fall face-first into the side of Valerie’s pillow. After a long pause, she looked up. “Y’know this afternoon?”

Valerie shrugged. “I’m acquainted with it, sure.”

“Well, I… ohhh!” Once again, the child went face down into the pillow.

“Here,” Valerie said, reaching out for Lara, drawing her close, lying back until the girl was stretched out on top of her. Their eyes met, and Lara’s surprised look transformed itself into a blissful smile. Valerie smiled back. The girl rested on Valerie’s breast, listening to the beating of her friend’s heart.

“Feeling better?” Lara nodded, still listening. “Good. Now tell me what’s on your mind.”

Lifting her head slightly, Lara looked at Valerie. “When… when we were putting on our bathing suits, and…” She’s so adorable when she blushes, Valerie thought. “…and you were t-touching me…”

Valerie smoothed the back of her hand against Lara’s baby-soft cheek. “Ah, yes… when I was admiring that perfect skin of yours, right?”

Lara tilted her head into Valerie’s hand, like a friendly cat would. “Yeah… and when you were touching me… it made my bottom squunch up. ”

“Well, I guess it might’ve felt a little weird to you, that’s–”

“No, no!” Lara interrupted, shaking her head fiercely. “It wasn’t weird! I wanted you to touch me! But my bottom just… squunched up, all by itself! I didn’t squunch up, my bottom did!”

Valerie smiled. “Okay, my lovely little lady.” She carefully brushed a fine lock of blonde hair from Lara’s face. “Thank you for explaining.”

“Because…” Lara’s eyes flickered for an instant, peeking down the front of Valerie’s nightie. “Because I did want you to touch me, touch my bottom. I — I liked it.”

“Did you?”

Lara nodded. “Uh-huh.”

Valerie carefully placed her hand on Lara’s thin back. She stroked the girl through the silk, her fingers gliding up and down, up and down.

Lara’s eyes drifted shut, a blissful sigh escaping her lips. “Yeah… I like it when you touch me.”

Valerie allowed her hand to travel down the eleven-year-old’s back and over her bottom, coming to rest on the soft, bare skin of her upper thigh.

“Like that — all over,” the little girl whispered. “Oh, Valerie…”

Now the hand moved upwards, over the bare thigh, over the beginning of Lara’s taut bum. The silk nightie moved with her, and soon the child’s backside was completely uncovered. Valerie slowly circled the warm, bare globes, cupping each one in turn.

“Mmm…” Lara purred, resting her head on Valerie’s chest once more. After a few more caresses, her head popped up again. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Uh-huh.”

Lara’s lips brushed Valerie’s ear as she whispered: “When you put Vaseline in my bottom, I really, really liked that.”

Valerie felt herself getting very, very turned on. She’d never dreamed that a girl this young could have such an effect on her, but the wetness between her legs was evidence enough. “You did, huh?”

“Uh-huh…” Lara’s bottom began to move along with Valerie’s hand. “Y’know what else?”

“What, you little devil?” Up close, Lara’s scent was intoxicating. Valerie breathed deeply of the delicate yet earthy aroma.

“Last night, I snuck the Vaseline out of Mom’s bathroom after she fell asleep… then when I was in bed, I sort of pretended my finger was your finger. I, um, dunked it in the Vaseline, then I put it in my b-bottom…” Her breathing was getting heavier.

Valerie whispered, “What if I pretended there was Vaseline on my finger? Would you like that?”

All Lara could do was nod, slowly spreading her legs in open invitation. Valerie trailed her finger down the girl’s spine until it nestled in the humid valley between her buttocks, smiling as Lara’s bottom rose to the touch. Valerie’s fingertip traced the tender, finely wrinkled cleft; Lara’s breath grew hot and urgent in her ear.

Now Valerie began to press forward, her finger circling the taut anus, seeking entry. And as she began to penetrate Lara’s rectum, the girl made a tiny mewing sound, a mew that grew into a choked cry when that probing digit entered her up to the third knuckle. Valerie began to withdraw, but Lara’s bottom clenched down on her finger.

The girl shook her head, almost violently. “N-no, no… don’t take it out,” Lara was trembling from head to toe, her forehead beaded with sweat. Looking up at Valerie with an angelic smile, she whispered, “Can you feel it? I’m not squunching you out, I’m squunching you IN.”

Lost in a surge of desire that left her dizzy, Valerie bent to nuzzle Lara’s elegant neck. The girl started, opening her eyes to gape at Valerie, then kissed her, immediately accepting Valerie’s questing tongue.

As their kisses became increasingly wild and passionate, it struck Valerie that with her finger buried in Lara’s bottom, the girl’s slit was in reach of her thumb. Without hesitation, she began to stroke her little friend’s wet, warm pussy.

A shudder of pleasure raced through Lara’s slender form and she stared, panting, at Valerie. “I — I touch m-myself there, too!” she gasped, then crushed her mouth into Valerie’s, hungry for more kisses.

As Valerie’s thumb prodded and stroked Lara’s tiny clitoris, the girl gyrated wildly, her hips churning, her bottom clenching and unclenching, her sex oozing honey. Soon she was too out of breath to kiss, and had to break away to moan, to cry, to howl — then she’d dive back, whimpering into Valerie’s mouth as that lovely heat between her legs mounted into an inferno.

And when Lara came for the first time, she cried out, among many other things, “OhhhHHhh Valerie, Valerieeeeee, I love you, I love you!”

The End? Perhaps not… what do you think, readers?

 

Blessed Sacrament, Part Three

  • Posted on October 21, 2021 at 1:36 pm

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Sister Katherine was right. I had changed inside. I couldn’t think about anything but my pussy. All day long, I’d squeeze my legs together under my desk, waiting for classes to be over so Sister and I could be alone, and she’d finger me or eat me, and I’d show her how I loved to come.

One day it got so bad, I swear, the buzzer went off at three o’clock and I came in my panties, like one of those dogs that drools when it hears a bell.

The sex runs together in my mind now, but I remember being bent over Sister’s desk, naked, of course, with my arms tucked under my tits and my legs spread, and her on the floor behind me, fully clothed, shoving her tongue up my ass.

Sister Katherine loved my ass. And why not? It was the only part of me that was at all round. Sister called it a miracle. She’d pat it and squeeze it and hold it in her hands. Her idea of heaven, she said once, would be to worship my body forever.

I hadn’t felt so loved since I was a little girl and I’d sit on my mom’s lap after my bath, wrapped in a towel.

Those feelings went away at Christmas. So did Sister Katherine.

It was the last day before vacation, and Sister and I hadn’t been together since before exam week. She kept putting me off. She had our papers to grade, she said, and faculty meetings and “other things to take care of” before school closed until New Year’s. I hoped she was teasing, making me wait for the last big orgasm that would carry me through the holidays.

We were dismissed at lunch time. The other kids were eager to make their escape, but when my line was called, I just sat there, waiting for the room to empty out. Sister saw me and shook her head. I made a pleading face. She made a sterner one. But I stayed put until she got up and came over. Everyone else was tramping out, so nobody paid attention when she leaned in close and said, “We can’t.”

“Please?”

“I’ve still got all your grades to do, and a big dinner at the convent. When you come back. I promise. Now go. Offer it up for the souls in Purgatory.”

So I offered it up. Running to catch my line, I wondered how many suffering souls would be go to heaven that day because I couldn’t get my pussy licked, and if they’d all be sent back after I played with myself at home.

I was two blocks from school when I decided I’d never make it. But it was too cold to hide behind a bush or a store. I thought of walking home with my hand down my panties, but then somebody might see. There had to be another way, someplace warm I could do it and not get caught.

The other kids were going their separate ways, talking all kinds of baby stuff about presents and trips. Nobody noticed when I turned around and headed back.

Sister had said no, and nothing I could say would change her mind. I could beg, but begging would make me sound pathetic and desperate — which I was, really, but no way I was going to let her know it. As I went back in the rear door of the school, sidling past the last file of kids on their way out, I turned the problem over in my mind. The moment called for action — something big that would bring Sister Katherine to her knees — and I had no idea what it could be.

Sister Rose was just closing the door to her office when I came in from the east stairs.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way home?” she asked.

“I forgot something. Is Sister Katherine still here?”

“I didn’t see her leave. You can check your classroom. Is everything all right? You look pale.”

“I’m fine, Sister.”

“Well, then, have a blessed Christmas.”

“Thank you, Sister. The same to you.”

She passed me, pushed open the fire door to the stairs, and disappeared. Poor thing: she was such a nice woman, for a principal, but she was clueless. I had to smile at the thought that I knew so much more about some things than she did, even if I was only twelve.

I went around the corner and down the main hallway, which was empty and dark.  All the classroom doors were shut. I was still wondering what I could do or say when I walked in on Sister Katherine, if she was even still there. It was getting harder to walk, and harder to breathe. My bookbag felt heavy, tugging painfully at my shoulder, the plastic handle biting my fingers. What was I afraid of? She wasn’t going to hurt me. The most she would do would be turn me around and nudge me back out the door.

But that was bad enough.

I was shaking by the time I peeked through the window in the classroom door. A Christmas wreath was hung on the inside, and I saw Sister’s face, like a cameo, ringed with plastic holly leaves and red buds. She wasn’t looking at her desk. Her eyes were raised, as if something at the far end of the room was distracting her. She half smiled, and then her lips moved. I thought maybe she was praying.

So now what? For a moment I actually thought about knocking, and I darned myself for being so timid.

I should just walk in naked, I thought.

And then I thought, I should just walk in naked.

It was as if the dove had descended from heaven.

Learn to play, Sister had told me. The danger is what makes it fun.

I stood my bookbag beside the wall and folded my coat on top of it. That was my last concession to prissy schoolgirl neatness. The spirit was in me. It was the spirit that raised up my clothes and carried them off in every direction. They flew from my body, and where they went was no longer any concern of mine.

I was shaking again, but not out of fear. Stripping made me giddy. I practically danced, twirling and holding my arms high as I tossed away each layer of that oppressive uniform. If I hadn’t been so determined to throw myself at Sister Katherine, I could have run from one end of the school to the other, upstairs and down, naked and free and radiant as an angel.

Someday soon, I told myself, I was going to do it.

On the other side of the glass, Sister went on praying. It had been a long time: was she saying the Rosary or something? I took hold of the cold brass doorknob. She didn’t look over. I turned it. She still didn’t move. Quietly, I pulled the door open a crack and spun through, backing into the room. The first thing Sister Katherine saw, as I pulled the door shut, was the curvy ass she couldn’t keep her hands off of.

I had never loved my body as much as I did at that moment.

“Surprise,” I said, softly, turning to face her.

But Sister didn’t look surprised, or excited, or anything else I’d expected. Her expression was blank, with her lips half-open, as though she was trying to figure out what was happening.

The naked girl standing in the center aisle looked at me the same way.

Her name was Donna. She sat two rows away from me, though I hardly knew her. She was one of those girls who’d developed early. She was shorter than me, but she had actual tits and a bigger butt. Her hair was fox-red, and she had a narrow strip of fuzz between her legs.

She also had a hand on her pussy, and she kept it moving even after she saw me. She’d been giving Sister Kat a show, and I guess she was too far gone to stop just because another naked girl had entered the room. Or maybe the sight of me was what put her over the top. I don’t know, but I recognized the fish-face she was making. It was the same one I made when I played with myself in front of my bedroom mirror, except her face got a lot redder than mine. The only other difference between us was that her boobs were big enough to jiggle when she came.

I would have liked to watch them jiggle, if I hadn’t been suddenly blinded by a burst of salt water.

“Hey,” Sister said. “Don’t.”

Her chair scraped the floor. Then her arms were around me. All I saw was a white blur. I was crying into Sister’s bib. Her habit always smelled clean, like linen that’s just been ironed. It had always been a comforting smell — until now.

“Don’t cry,” she said. “It’s all right. It’s better you know. We can all be friends.”

I let her soft hands slide down my back. I let them cup my ass. But when she tried to stick her fingers in my cunt, I went tight all over.

“No!” I said, wriggling away. She took hold of my shoulders, but I pushed back, forcing a space between us.

If I’d been older, I would have called her a lying bitch and told her she could have her red-headed slut, if that’s what she wanted. But I was twelve. All I could do was wail. Wail and hit. A minute ago, I had wanted to hold Sister’s Katherine’s breasts in my hands. Now all I wanted was to pound them into mush.

“Stop it,” she said. “Stop it! Ow! You little bitch, don’t you ever do that again.”

My face stung, and before I could touch it, and she was holding me by the wrists, shaking me.

“Donna,” she said. “Help me. Hold her down.”

She was talking about me like I was some kind of animal. Which at that moment, I was. I broke free of Sister’s grip and spun around, bolting for the door — and my clothes — but the red-headed girl was already blocking my way. I smacked into her. She threw her arms around me like a wrestler.

I felt every inch of her against me, from her shoulders to her knees, her fat boobies squashed under mine. Between the full-body press and my rage, I couldn’t tell if I was pissed off or turned on.

Donna and I were nose to nose. I was looking down at her, into her green eyes. And then suddenly, wildly, I stumbled ahead, flattening her against the door and stuffing my tongue into her mouth. She didn’t try to stop me.

I honestly thought this would teach Sister a lesson. If she could use Donna to hurt me, I could do the same to her. But Sister didn’t care enough to be hurt.

“That’s my girls,” she said, behind me. “See? We can all play nice.”

Her breath slithered around my ear. Her habit pressed softly against my back. Somebody’s fingers went into my cunt. I never found out whose, but the release, when it came, was torrential.

My body seized up, my head went back, and I made my crazy fish-face toward the ceiling.

“It’s all right,” Sister Katherine said. “She’ll behave herself now.”

Donna relaxed her arms, and I sank to the floor, sliding down her body. My lips grazed her boobs, her stomach, her fox-red fuzz. My hands trailed over her butt and down her legs. The fingers slipped out of my pussy, and there I was, sprawled on my ass, too shaken to move.

“And it turned out to be a wonderful Christmas after all,” Sister said.

I couldn’t help laughing. I’d been humiliated — lied to, cheated on, and slapped — but I’d never come so hard.

I looked up at the undersides of Donna’s pink-on-white tits, and the dark red seam between her legs. She caught me staring, and suddenly it made her self-conscious. After everything we’d done, she tried to cover up.

“Donna is horny as the devil, but she’s still shy,” Sister said. “She doesn’t have your sense of adventure. I was hoping to bring her out of her shell before the three of us got together, but I’m glad you’re here. You can help.”

That annoyed me. I hadn’t stripped down just to help Sister Katherine break in another girlfriend.

“I don’t want to,” I said, as little-girl whiny as I could manage.

“Oh, come on,” Sister said. “I saw the way you were looking at that cute red pussy. Are you telling me you don’t want a taste of that?”

“Hm,” I said.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Donna, unzip me.”

I had to wonder what was going on inside that red-haired skull. Donna hadn’t said a word since I’d come through the door. But she’d fingered herself in front of me, and she’d let me kiss her, and now she obediently followed Sister’s command. Was she really as horny as the devil, as Sister said, or just too scared to resist?

Her pussy smelled like strawberries. I meant to ask her what kind of bath soap she used. Licking her down there was like licking an ice cream cone — smooth and pink and creamy — with just a touch of roughness from her sparse hair, like a sprinkle of jimmies. On Sister’s orders, she lay on the floor, and I crawled between her legs, lapping at her slowly, one long tongue stroke after another.

Sister Katherine, naked now, rolled me over halfway and pushed her face into my pussy. She sucked my clitty in the most heavenly way — so lightly I would hardly have known she was there, if it hadn’t been for the waves of pleasure that were twisting me inside out.

Then, without taking her mouth off my cunt for a second, she screwed herself around and planted her bush in front of Donna’s mouth.

Donna took the hint, raising her head and sticking out her tongue, and the three of us were where Sister Katherine wanted us to be: balled up in an oral knot, me eating Donna, Donna eating Sister, Sister eating me. We were like the three ages of women: the bald pussy, the fuzzy pussy, and the hairy pussy. The Holy Trinity of Cunt-Licking.

It would have been a miracle if we all came together. Well, I can promise you, miracles do happen. We could feel each other’s rhythms, the force that flowed in a circle through our mouths to our bodies. Sister thrashed my clitty with her tongue. I did the same to Donna. I don’t know what Donna was doing, but in a it wasn’t long before Sister’s muffled squeals were buzzing all through me.

My climax took me by surprise: I felt it starting, but I thought it was still a ways off, until suddenly my baby cunt was ringing like a church bell. Donna whimpered into Sister’s pussy, and I knew her moment had arrived, too. Sister Katherine, in turn, heaved a huge sigh and went limp.

We were so happy with each other, and with the sexual power that seemed to come from outside ourselves, filling us like grace, that we never noticed Sister Rose Frances had been standing there the whole time.

“So,” she said, “this is why you’ve been staying late.”

The Holy Trinity broke up fast. Donna’s knee bashed me in the face as she scrambled for her clothes. Sister fought her way out from my legs and grabbed her habit. All I found was Donna’s panties, which didn’t cover much.

“Stop, all of you,” Sister Rose said. “Don’t even bother. You can’t hide from Almighty God.”

Nobody was trying to hide from God. The real threat was Sister Rose Francis. She was standing between us and the door, her lips tight, her eyes narrow, and from where I was sitting, gaping up at her, the Christmas wreath circled her head like a ragged halo. I couldn’t have been more terrified if she had sprouted wings and waved a flaming sword.

Sister Katherine knelt before her, bowing her head and clutching her habit to her boobs. In an instant, she had been reduced from a dictator to a penitent little girl. She even blessed herself before she dared to open her mouth.

“Please, Sister,” she said. “Forgive them. They’re innocent.”

“Forgive them?” Sister Rose said. “If I were you, I would be worried about my own soul. When you were transferred here, you swore to me this would not be a problem.”

“I tried, Sister. I truly did, but —”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Sister Rose said. “Get down to my office as fast as your legs will carry you. — No, leave your habit. You don’t deserve to wear it. Wear your shame instead.”

Sister Katherine — just Katherine now, I guess — stood up, dropping her few scraps of clothing, and went naked to the door.

“Say goodbye to her, children,” Sister Rose said. “You are never going to see her again.”

But we were too stunned to speak. My last memory of Sister Katherine George is the sight of her opal-shaped buttocks fading into the darkened hall.

“I’ll deal with her later,” Sister Rose said. “The two of you — on your feet.”

We did as we were told, and she looked us over, head to foot, but taking her time in the middle. A few minutes ago, I was dying to show off my body, and now I wanted to crawl into a hole. It depends entirely on the attitude of the person looking at you, I suppose, and Sister Rose did not look happy with what she saw.

I folded my hands discreetly in front of my slit. My little titties weren’t worth the trouble it would take to conceal them. Donna had more to be embarrassed about. She laid one hand on her crotch and grabbed at her boobs with the other.

“Don’t pretend to be modest now,” Sister Rose said. “Arms at your sides.”

Again, we did as we were told.

“Which one of you left her clothes all over the floor outside?” Sister Rose demanded.

Donna, who still had never spoken, gave me away by glancing in my direction.

“You?” Sister Rose said to me.

“Yes, Sister.”

“What are they doing out there?”

“I took them off.”

“I can see that. Why did you take them off?”

“I wanted to surprise Sister Katherine.”

“Surprise her? By waltzing in here naked?”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Well, aren’t you the shameless little whore,” she said.

That seemed to be the common opinion among the faculty.

Sister Rose carried on her inspection, walking around us. I was sure I could feel her eyes on my bare behind. Then I felt the tips of her fingers, for real, run down my spine, soft as fog. They gave me chills all over.

“I’ll say one thing for Sister Katherine,” she said at last. “She has excellent taste in playmates. You’re both lovely, in your own way. I think we’re all going to be very good friends.”

The End

 

Sweet Poppy, Chapter 9

  • Posted on October 16, 2021 at 2:57 pm

For a thumbnail summary of this story thus far, please check out the Chapter Links

by Joe Dornish

I’d been making a lot of extra effort with my little sister Lilly, just being super nice and spending more time with her than I used to. It wasn’t just that I just wanted to have sex with her; I felt guilty that Mum and I were making love on a regular basis without Lilly being part of it. It felt wrong, keeping such a big secret from my sister.

One afternoon, though, I had a breakthrough. We were playing with her dolls, and she had two of them kiss each other — both girl dolls, I was interested to see. Looking up, she said to me, “Have you ever kissed anyone, Poppy? Like, y’know, proper grown-up kissing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“With a girl, right? Sure, ‘cos you’re gay. So, um… what’s it like?”

My heart was pounding like crazy, but I managed to appear calm. “Really good. Seriously, it’s the best. Would you… would you like to try it now?”

Lilly’s eyes widened. “With you?”

“Yeah, with me. Just so you’ll know what it’s like.”

“Um… okay.”

Dropping her doll, Lilly just sat there with her eyes closed, waiting for me. Bless her. I leaned in and gave her a feather-light peck, and she giggled. Then I kissed her more firmly, letting it linger a bit.

Finally, we drifted apart. “That was soooo cool,” she whispered, grinning foolishly.

“Shall we do it again? Only this time, we use our tongues? That’s a real grown-up kiss.”

“Okay,” she said, then leaned into me.

Our lips met, and a moment later I slipped the tip of my tongue into her mouth, quickly finding hers. Lilly wasn’t shy, but not too eager either. In fact, she was a natural at this, her arms winding around me as she kissed me back.

We French kissed for quite a while. Lilly’s lips were soft and dreamy, and she felt so good in my arms. I could have done this with her all day long.

When we parted, I had to ask, “Lilly, are you sure you’ve never kissed anyone else before? You’re awfully good at this.”

“Um… promise not to tell Mummy?”

“I promise,” I said, crossing my heart.

“I kissed Evie. We… we used our tongues, too.” Lilly was blushing, unable to meet my gaze as she spoke.

That surprised me. Evie? Mum had admitted to having a huge crush on Nicole’s eight-year-old daughter… and Lilly had already made out with her!

“I need to tell you something else,” Lilly said. “It’s a secret, too.”

There was more? “Well, sure.”

“I, um… I like girls. Really like them, the same as you.”

“No kidding! How’d you find out?”

She shrugged. “I started thinking about it after you and Mum said you were gay. After me and Evie kissed, I was sure.”

By then, my excitement practically had me bouncing up and down. “Hey, that’s great! But why do you want to keep it a secret?”

“Oh… Mum’s always telling me, ‘You’re too young for this, you’re too young for that…’ so I figured for sure she’d say I wasn’t old enough to — to fool around with other girls.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hell’s bells, Lilly… just because she won’t let you get your belly button pierced, it doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to kiss Evie!”

“She won’t let me have a skateboard, either,” my sister pouted.

Taking both Lilly’s hands in mine, I said, “Listen, sis. I swear to you, Mum won’t have any kind of problem with you being a lesbian. Trust me on this, she’s cooler than you know.”

“Okay, if you say so.” She gave me a bashful smile. “Now, can we kiss some more? I think I need the practice.”

So adorable. “Sure we can, but you don’t need the practice. Let’s just kiss because we want to, okay?”

“Sure,” she said, all smiles.

Seconds later, Lilly’s arms were wrapped around me and her tongue was in my mouth. We were kissing like lovers, with a fervor that stole my breath away. I slumped back, taking her along, and then my sister was lying on top of me.

I wanted so badly to slip my hands under her t-shirt, or reach down to unfasten her pants. Was her pussy wet? What did she taste like? I was dying to find out!

But I remembered what Mum told me: It has to be Lilly’s choice. Don’t pressure her. So I stuck to kisses and hugs.

This time when we broke apart, Lilly looked at me with those big, beautiful eyes of hers and whispered, “I love you, Poppy.”

That floored me. I knew that my sister felt that way, but I couldn’t remember her ever saying the words out loud. All I could do was lose myself in her adoring gaze and say, “I love you too, Lilly.”

My head was spinning, and I had no idea what would happen next. What actually did happen was that Mum entered the house and called out, “Girls?”

The moment lost, we quickly got up, straightened our clothing, and raced downstairs to greet our mother.

Later that evening, I told Mum about Lilly being gay. As I expected, she was enormously pleased. “You know, I suspected something was going on between Lilly and Evie, but I finally decided that… well, maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see.”

“I think Lilly is ready for more,” I said.

“So do I… and we’re going to do our best to make that happen.”

***

The following day, Lilly and I went straight up to her room when we got home from school, laid down together on the bed, and did a lot more kissing.

After a few minutes, I asked her, “When we kiss, does it make your kitty get wet and tingly? That’s what happens to me.”

“Yeah, me too!” Lilly replied, grinning.

“Have you ever masturbated?”

She shook her head, “I’ve heard that word, but I’m not sure what it means.”

“It’s when you rub your clitoris to give yourself an orgasm,” I said, feeling fairly certain that Lilly wouldn’t understand that, either. In fact, my scheme hinged on it.

Sure enough, my sister looked at me like I’d just spoken Japanese, “Rub my what for a what?”

“Rub your… oh, I’m sorry, Lilly. I’m not very good at explaining. Mummy did a better job when she taught me how to do it.”

Lilly was starting to get frustrated. “Taught you? What are you talking about?”

“She showed me how to rub my kitty in a special way, so it feels super good. That’s what masturbating is.”

“Wait — Mummy showed you how to touch your kitty?” Lilly’s eyes were huge.

“Uh-huh,” I said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Huh. When did this happen?”

“Oh, ages ago, like last month or something. Hey, I’ve got a great idea! Let’s get Mum to show you how to masturbate, just like she did with me!”

My sister gave me a very stern look. “Poppy… are you making some kind of joke?”

I quieted her with a tender kiss, then said, “Lilly, I’ll never joke with you about kissing and sex and stuff. I promise.”

She slowly nodded, taking in the suggestion I’d just made. “So… it feels good? Masturbating?”

“Trust me — once you’ve tried it, you’ll want to do it all the time!”

“Okay then, let’s ask Mum,” Lilly said.

Mum had been waiting for my signal, so when I called out for her, she came into Lilly’s room right away.

“Did you want me, sweetie?” Mum said. She’d changed into a snugly fitting top and a pair of shorts that really showed her legs off.

“Mum, I was talking to Lilly about masturbation. She’s never done it before. Can you teach her how, the way you showed me?”

“Of course I can if it’s what she wants. Is that something you’d like to try, Lilly?”

Suddenly bashful, Lilly nodded. “Could I, please? It sounds like fun.”

“Oh, it’s a lot of fun. Look, why don’t we move this to my room? Lilly, your sister, and I can show you how we touch ourselves, then you can try it.”

“Ooooh, right now? Sure!”

Taking Lilly’s hand, then mine, Mum led us both into her room, then said, “Okay, we’ll need to strip off naked, so we can see properly.”

Without a word, the three of us took our clothes off and sat on the bed. For the first time since she was a toddler, I got to see Lilly naked, which was awesome. At the time she was only seven, flat-chested of course, with a pert little bum and a perfectly smooth slit. I hadn’t even touched myself, and my pussy was already wet from the sight of my baby sister.

Meanwhile, with two nude females to observe, Lilly looked from Mum to me, then back again, checking us both out with enormous interest. She couldn’t stop grinning, her excitement plain to see.

“That’s right, girls… let’s have a good look at each other,” Mum said. “We’re all the same, yet each unique in our own way.” She sat back and opened her legs, so Lilly and I did the same.

Our mother then gave us an anatomy lesson, pointing to the various parts of her vagina and asked us to find and identify them on ourselves. When we got to the clitoris, Lilly pulled her lips apart and bent over to see, frowning in concentration. Pointing between her legs, she said, “Is this my clit, Mummy?”

“It looks like it, sweetie. Here, try rubbing it like this.” Mum began to demonstrate, openly masturbating for us to see.

I angled myself to get a better view between Lilly’s legs, then started teasing my clit as well.

Mum nodded her approval when she saw me. “See, your sister is doing it, Lilly… now you try!”

“Um, okay.” Taking a deep breath, Lilly spread her legs even further apart, paused to watch what Mum and I were doing, then hesitantly began to touch herself. Within a few seconds, she gasped. “Oh… oh, yeah… Ohhhhh!”

“Are you feeling it?” I asked.

“Mmmmm yeah,” she moaned. “Wow… how come I never knew about this before?”

It was the most amazing sight, watching my seven-year-old sister experience sexual pleasure for the first time. She was so cute, yet incredibly sexy. I ached to kneel before Lilly, bury my face between those thin, lovely legs and taste her pussy. I bet this is how Mum feels when she looks at me, I told myself.

Mum had stopped rubbing her clit, probably because she didn’t want to come just yet. I stopped too, just edging myself while watching Lily get more and more worked up.

“Does that feel good, honey?” Mum asked Lilly.

“Yeah, really good,” Lilly panted. “I — I think I f-found my clit!”

“Hee hee, I think you did, too. You’re still very young, so it might not happen… but keep rubbing it like that, and you could have an orgasm. ”

Lilly’s eyes snapped open, and she paused in her fingering. “Mummy, what is an orgasm? Poppy said that word before, but I don’t know what it means.”

Mum laughed. “How could I have left that out? It’s the most important part!” She put a hand on Lilly’s knee. “Sweetheart, an orgasm is this wonderful feeling that a lover can give you when you have sex… but it’s also something very nice you can do for yourself. That’s the reason for masturbating, you know — to have orgasms.” Mum turned to me. “Poppy, why don’t you try to give yourself one, so Lilly can see what it’s like.”

“Sure, Mum. I’m pretty worked up right now, so I’ll probably come right away!”

Lilly frowned. “Come…?”

“It’s another word for orgasm, sweetie.”

“Oh, okay.”

I laid back, resting my head on the pillow. Keeping my eyes on Lilly, I spread my legs and pulled my knees up high so she had a really good view. Then I slowly ran two fingers up and down my slit, repeating that a few times.

In a whispered tone, Mum said, “See how Poppy starts? Slowly and gently, that’s the best way.”

I slipped my middle finger inside myself all the way up to the knuckle, then pushed it in and out a few times. Lilli gasped, slipping a hand between her legs as she stared at my pussy.

Mum was masturbating again, too. “That’s it, sweetie — if it feels good, then go ahead and touch yourself while we watch Poppy. We’ll do it together.”

Lilly was really going at it now, rubbing herself for all she was worth. I watched her closely, fucking myself hard and deep with the fingers of one hand, thumbing my clitoris with the other. A minute or so later I was coming. Letting go completely, I cried, “Fuck, that feels good!” and kept going.

If I’d been alone, I would have stopped after one orgasm and relaxed. But it felt so wicked and exciting, masturbating with Mum and Lily, my pussy on full display for them to see. It made me want to carry on. I was making a puddle on Mum’s bed, my fingers were dripping, it was getting harder to breathe, my head was blurry and heavy and I was bathed from head to toe in sweat — but watching my little sister rub her pussy got me so fired up that I managed to make myself come for the second time in five minutes. I’d never had two orgasms so close together before, and this one was so intense that I blacked out.

I suppose that it only lasted for a few seconds, because the first thing I heard was, “Is Poppy okay, Mummy?”

“Yes, sweetie. She just had an orgasm. A big one, by the looks of it.”

I opened my eyes to see Lilly looking down at me. “That was great,” I said. “God, I was so turned on!”

“It sure looked good,” Lilly said. “What was it that turned you on so much?”

“Well, it was really hot to masturbate with you and Mum… and seeing you naked, that’s what got me more excited than anything else.”

That surprised her. “Me?” she said. “Why me? I’m just a kid… I don’t have anything to see!”

Something told me that if I handled this right, I’d be halfway to making love with my little sister. I gave her the warmest, most adoring look and said, “Don’t even think that, Lilly. You’re a beautiful girl. Sexy, even.”

She’s right, sweetheart,” Mum chimed in. “Oh, you’ll be an absolute knockout when you reach those teen years, but you’re absolutely exquisite as you are.”

Lilly still seemed a bit confused but grateful for the praise. “If you guys say so,” she said, not quite hiding a smile.

While we were talking, I began to caress myself again. Lilly was stealing quick glances at my pussy. “It’s okay — I don’t mind if you watch,” I said. She blushed, but didn’t look away.

Feeling a powerful urge to take things even further, I slipped a finger into my vagina, rolling it around in circles. Once it was coated with my fluids, I brought that finger up to my lips and sucked it clean.

“Mmm, that’s yummy,” I said, still looking at Lilly.

She absently moistened her lips. “Um… what’s it taste like?”

I pushed the finger back inside myself for a few strokes, then held it out to Lilly, “Try it for yourself.”

Lilly looked at Mum, who smiled and nodded. Reassured, Lilly leaned forward, took my finger into the warmth of her mouth. I felt her tongue circling it. Sitting back, she paused to savor the taste, then smiled. “It’s… it’s nice! I’m not sure how to describe the flavour, but I like it.”

“You still haven’t had an orgasm yet, right?” I asked Lilly. She shook her head. “Why don’t you have a go at it? See if you can come this time.”

“Okay,” she cheerfully said.

I moved to kneel to my sister’s left, Mum positioning herself on the right. I caught Mum’s eye and she winked at me, nibbling at her bottom lip. She was clearly desperate to come but holding back, letting Lilly touch herself first.

We were both studying Lilly’s slim, childish figure, her pale skin, the tiny pink nipples on her flat chest and that gorgeous puffy slit. Mum must have read my mind when she said, “My baby girl, I can’t find the words to tell you… to make you understand how beautiful you are.”

“Oh, Mummy,” Lilly whispered, her eyes shining with love. “Thank you.” A pause for breath. “Um, I’m gonna start now…”

She closed her eyes, shifted around a bit, then opened her legs. Propping myself against the headboard, I lightly caressed my own folds. I was still tingly and sensitive down there, and didn’t need much attention. As for Mum, she was fucking herself hard with two fingers as Lilly began to masturbate. Her first caresses were gentle, just as Mum had recommended.

“Ahhh,” murmured Lilly, instinctively raising her knees, bringing them toward her chest. Now I could see the pucker of her anus, and I found myself wanting to lick her there, too.

My sister was using two fingers to rub herself, just as I’d done, working her clit faster and harder as she went. Her face was flushed with exertion, and her movements were starting to shake the bed.

“That’s so hot!” Mum panted, “So f-fucking hot…” Her eyes squeezed shut, and a choked cry escaped her lips as she came.

Lilly kept rubbing for a while, clearly enjoying it, but there was no orgasm. Finally, she slowed down, then stopped. When she opened her eyes Mum, who had recovered by then, said, “Did that feel good, sweetie?”

“Yeah, it was nice. Um… I’m not sure if I had an orgasm, though. I don’t think I did.”

“Oh, there’s no rush, Lilly. You may be a little too young to come just yet. Don’t worry, though — if you keep trying, it’ll happen. And believe you me, you’ll know when it does.” Getting to her feet, Mum stretched, then reached for her clothes. “Well, I need to get dinner started. You girls can hang out in here if you like. I’ll call you when it’s time to eat.”

When Mum left, I turned to Lilly. “Hey, wanna do some kissing?”

Needless to say, she was all for that! She crawled into my arms, and we shared kisses and cuddles. It was even better than the first time, because we were both naked. Lilly was lying on her back with me on my side next to her. Our tongues were playing a flirting game, and I was stroking her chest and tummy with my left hand, getting closer and closer to her pussy.

When I got to where the waistline of her knickers would have been, I stopped. “Lilly… is it okay if I touch your pussy?”

She thought about it, then nodded. “It’s fine with me… but would Mummy mind?”

“Mum will be okay with it, trust me. There’s other fun stuff we can do, too.”

“Like what?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

Lilly’s eyes got huge and she took in a deep, trembling breath when my finger parted her lips, briefly teasing her clit. My mouth claimed hers, and we shared a passionate kiss as I explored the velvety smoothness of my little sister’s pussy. When I brushed her clit once more, she shivered — and that was when I felt certain that I could make Lilly come. I rubbed her clit slowly and continuously, falling into a gentle rhythm. When she began to move her body to my caresses, I picked up the pace and was rewarded with whimpers and moans.

Lilly was losing herself to the moment’s pleasure — at that point, she probably had no idea what year it was. My wrist was starting to ache, but she was so close I couldn’t stop. Sure enough, a minute or so later my sister screamed and went rigid, her body arching up from the bed as her first-ever orgasm took hold.

Detecting motion to my right, I looked over at the doorway. Mum was there, watching us. She gave me a huge smile, then quietly crept into the room until she was standing next to the bed, gazing down at my sister.

Soon Lilly was sprawled limply on the bed, utterly spent. I withdrew my hand and massaged the wrist, trying to work out the soreness.

Lilly’s eyes fluttered open, then she smiled to see Mum seated on the bed next to her, stroking her hair. “When did you come back, Mummy?” she asked, still slightly dazed.

“A little while ago. I thought you might be able to relax a bit better if it was just you and your sister.” She gave a happy sigh. “So you finally got to come. How did it feel, baby girl?”

“Oh my God, like, just…wow. Poppy is really good at this.”

“I know,” said Mum, giving my sister a wink.

We waited for her to process this, then a shocked Lilly said, “Poppy, she — she does that to you, too?”

“That’s right, sweetie… and lots more.”

I was surprised to hear Mum admit that she and I were having sex. Was Lilly ready to know about that? I wasn’t sure. Still, the cat was now out of the bag, so when Lilly turned to look at me, I nodded, confirming what Mum said.

“You guys do… other stuff? Like what?” she asked with a puzzled look.

Mum was about to answer, but I broke in first. “Uh, Mum? Y’know, it was really nice, you and me having our first time alone. So, erm, after dinner, why don’t you do that for Lilly? Take her up to your room and show her all the things you showed me, just the two of you. I bet she’d love it.”

“I —  I bet I would, too! Can we, Mummy, pretty please?” exclaimed Lilly. Okay, she didn’t really know what we were talking about… but how could she not love being touched and licked by our mother?

Mum leaned in and kissed me with her tongue, right in front of Lilly. “Poppy, you are so sweet! Goodness, what an unselfish thing to think of. Are you sure you don’t mind not being there with us?”

Honestly, I did want to be part of my sister’s first full-on lesbian experience… but I also knew that my instinct was correct, that Lilly should have Mum to herself this time. “No, it’s okay — it should be just the two of you, like it was for me.”

“Okay, then,” Mum said.

“On the other hand…” I added, “maybe when you and Lilly are finished…”

“…then you can come in and join us, that’s an excellent idea!” Mum said, picking up where I left off. “How about it, Lilly — are you ready to learn more, do you think?”

“Yes! Learn more about what, though? But yeah, sure, I’m ready, whatever it is,” Lilly had turned into a cute naked pixie, bubbling over with excitement. If she knew how good this was gonna be, she’d be ten times as thrilled, I told myself.

Mum laughed, then said, “Poppy is suggesting I show you how to have sex, the same way I showed her.”

“You… taught her how to have sex? You mean, like grownups do?”

“I did, sweetheart..”

My sister sat up and stared at me, her mouth hanging open. I told her, “It’s fun, Lilly. Trust me, you’ll love it! I sure did.”

“Well, um… what sort of stuff is it that you do? All I know about is kissing.”

I wanted to answer but looked to Mum first. “Go ahead, you can tell her,” she replied, smiling at me.

“You can do what you want, but you definitely don’t have to do anything you don’t want,” I rolled my eyes. “Mum will tell you that, like, a million times. Anyways, we did pretty much everything lesbians do. Let’s see… I sucked Mum’s nipples and she sucked mine, we licked each others’ pussies, we rubbed our pussies together — that’s called tribbing, by the way. We did all sorts of stuff. All I’ll say is this: if you’re ready, then you’ll love it.”

Lilly was grinning hugely, so excited that she was nearly bouncing in place. “I’m ready. I want to do it!” she announced.

***

After taking a shower, I put on a pair of leggings and a t-shirt, then went into my sister’s room. She was naked, having just got out of the shower herself. I helped dry her hair, then tied it into a French plait for her.

We looked through her underwear drawer, then decided she should wear her favourite pink knickers, the ones with light blue stars on the front and a little bit of lace around the waist. They were cute, but also hugged her pussy so tightly you could see the outline of her slit. I knew Mum would like that as much as I did. Next, we chose a pretty white dress with shoulder straps that came down to her knees. She wore white ankle socks and a pair of flat white shoes. I ran into Mum’s room, got some perfume, and sprayed a little on Lilly’s neck.

Standing before the mirror, I wrapped both arms around Lilly. “There you go,” I told her. “You look good enough to eat.”

“I’ve got a funny feeling in my tummy,” she admitted.

“Is it like when you’re about to go on holiday or something?”

“Yeah, just like that.”

“I felt the same when it was my first time. It’s only Mum, there’s no need to worry.”

“I’m not worried. Well, maybe a little nervous.”

I kissed her. “You’ll be fine.”

Then Mum called us down for dinner. She’d had a shower too, and was now wearing a beautiful blue dress. It had a scooped neck and was quite short, showing her legs off wonderfully. Her hair was down and she’d put a bit of makeup on. She’d even worn high heels. Lilly was taken aback at the effort Mum had made for her.

“You look beautiful, Lilly,” Mum said.

“Thanks, Mummy. You look sexy!”

Mum blushed. “Thank you, sweetie,” she said, then kissed Lilly’s mouth, allowing it to linger.

I was already starting to regret saying that Lilly should be alone with Mum for her first time. God, I so wanted to be there! I knew it was the right thing to do, though, so I kept quiet.

After dinner, instead of going into the living room to watch TV, we sat around the table chatting, mainly about school. Around eight o’clock, Mum said, “How do you feel, Lilly?”

“Good, Mummy,” Her cheeks were a bewitching hue of pink. She knew it was time.

“Well, then, shall we go upstairs?”

Lilly nodded vigorously. “Yes, please.”

As they stood up, I said, “I think I’ll go and watch some TV, relax a bit.”

“Thanks, sweetie,” Mum said. “I’ll come to get you later.” Blowing me a kiss, she took Lilly by the hand and led her upstairs.

My pussy got wet at the thought of what they would be getting up to, and I soon slipped a hand in my knickers. I masturbated thinking of Mum and Lilly, naked and fucking like lovers. I had a big orgasm, then drifted off to sleep.

***

I woke up about nine o’clock, and there was no sign of Mum or Lilly. I fetched a packet of chocolate biscuits from the kitchen, then sat down at the telly to wait. I don’t recall what I watched; my mind was elsewhere.

It was about a quarter to ten when Mum came downstairs and sat next to me. She was naked, her hair was tousled, her face flushed.

“How did it go?” I asked eagerly.

Mum gave a happy sigh. “Brilliantly. She’s a natural, just like you.”

“Oh, wow, that’s awesome!” I exclaimed. “Did she come?”

“Several times. She’s very keen to see you.”

“Really? Can I come upstairs, then?”

“She’s waiting for us. Let me get some water, and we’ll both go.”

I stripped as I walked, leaving a trail of clothes behind me on the way to Mum’s bedroom. The door was open, Lilly was on the bed, stretched out on her back, eyes closed as she toyed with her pussy. The room smelt of sex, and as I drew closer I could see my little sister’s pussy, glistening in the dim light.

Lilly opened her eyes and saw me. “I had sex with Mum!” she cried. “We — we fucked!”

“That’s awesome,” I said, climbing on the bed to lie beside Lilly.

Mum put a large tumbler of water on the bedside table, then laid down on my sister’s other side. She gave Lilly a kiss, then playfully tickled her.

“Did you know we can even swear when we’re having sex? We can say ‘fuck’ and even ‘cunt’ if we want to!”

“Yeah, I know. Mum’s the best.”

“It’s true — she’s the best mum ever!”

Mum made a face. “Aw, you two are going to make me cry if you carry on like that. “She hugged Lilly to her, then reached out to touch my cheek. Thank you, my precious girls. You’re everything a mother could wish for.”

Just then, I had a great idea. “Y’know what, Lilly? I bet Mum would love to watch us fuck.”

Her eyes immediately lit up. “Yeah… I bet she would!”

“You’ve got me there. I would definitely like to see that,” Mum said.

I got on top of Lilly and kissed her, exploring her little-girl mouth with my tongue, with Lilly giving every bit as good as she got. We kissed for ages, with Mum gently masturbating right next to us.

I was trying to rub my pussy against Lilly’s as we made out. It felt pretty good, but our angle was a bit awkward. Finally I broke our kiss. Her nose was touching mine when I whispered, “I want to lick your pussy, Lilly. Can I?”

“Yes, please! Then I’ll lick yours. Okay?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Mum sighed blissfully as she continued to finger herself. “Mummy’s little girls making love… so beautiful.”

I nuzzled my way down Lilly’s body, intoxicated by the scent of her, the softness of her skin. Soon my head was nestled between the pale thighs of my seven-year-old sister. I looked up at Mum and said, “I’m not gonna make love to your little girl… I’m gonna fuck her.” With that, I slowly licked Lilly’s pussy from bottom to top.

“Oh, shit, Poppy!” she gasped, then grabbed her legs just behind the knees and pulled them back, opening herself up to me. Tilting my head to one side, I traced the line of Lilly’s pretty pink slit with the tip of my tongue.

“That’s it, Poppy,” Mum said. “Fuck your little sister. Lick her cunt.”

I didn’t need any encouragement, but it really turned me on to hear Mum say rude things like that. I made a mental note to ask her to do it more often.

Lilly’s pussy was gorgeous, all puffy and pink from the attention it had received, and it tasted amazing. I could have spent the whole night with my face buried between her legs. I could hear Lilly’s breathing get deep and ragged, and she was clutching my head tightly, pressing my face into her sex. My sister was getting close to the edge, and I was almost ready to push her over.

There was something else I wanted to try first, though. The way Lilly had her legs drawn back, with both knees touching her chest, it exposed not only her cunt, but the cleft of her anus. I’d imagined myself licking my sister there earlier, and now I was going to do it for real.

Down I went, trailing my tongue through Lilly’s slit — only this time I kept going until I reached my goal, the wide-open crack of her arse. I bathed it with a long swipe of the tongue, and a startled Lilly cried, “Oh my God, Poppy — what are you d-doing?” But her shock disappeared right away, Lilly’s voice trailing off into a moan as I licked her hole.

“Yes, Poppy, yes!” Mum panted. “Rim your sister, lick her bum.”

So I did just that for a while, and Lilly certainly seemed to love it — but the way her body was twitching, I knew that she really, really needed to come, so I licked my way back up to her clit, which I took between my lips and sucked like a straw.

I could hear Mum’s voice, but it almost sounded like she was talking to herself, mumbling stuff like “…such a pretty little g-girl, her sweet, smooth cunt, yes… lick her, let her honey d-drip from your chin, so fucking delicious… oh, my sweet sexy children, Mummy’s little lovers…”

Suddenly Lilly was coming hard, right in my face. I was amazed at the intensity of her orgasm, and how much juice came out of her. I was practically drinking from my sister’s pussy! She was howling like a banshee, her legs clamped tightly around my shoulders as she clenched her fingers in my hair. It was difficult for me to breathe, but I didn’t even care. Lilly was so loud that I didn’t hear it happen, but Mum was coming at the same time.

I kept licking my sister, wondering if I could get her off again, but she pushed my face away, blurting, “Stop, p-please stop!”

I sat up, crawled over to an exhausted Mum and Lily and laid down between them. I was in the best mood imaginable, even if I did really need an orgasm of my own.

Once Lilly had returned to herself, she snuggled into me. “Bloody hell, Poppy… you’re really good at that!”

“Thanks. Your pussy tastes great… I could have stayed down there all night.”

“She is delicious, our Lilly,” said Mum. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted a sweeter pussy.”

I didn’t know if Mum had told Lilly about Kiki and Henri or not, so I asked her, “Mum, have you said anything to Lilly about our special friends?”

“No, not yet. I was waiting for you. I did impress on Lilly how important it is that we keep our lovemaking a secret. Would you like to tell her?”

“Tell me what?” Lilly immediately asked. “Who are these special friends?”

“Well, you know that Mum and I have been having sex, right?”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“Here’s the thing. It’s not just the two of us. There are two other people involved.”

“Who? Involved how? Tell me!”

“Hmmm… I’m not sure if you’re ready to know just yet. It’s an awfully big secret.”

Lilly’s eager expression quickly inverted into a scowl. “Mu-um! Poppy’s being mean!”

“Stop teasing your sister,” Mum told me, but with a tiny smile.

“Tell you what, sis. If you can give me an orgasm, then I’ll tell you everything.”

Deal! Ha bloody ha! I was gonna make you come anyway!”

“Ha right back! I was gonna tell you anyway!”

We all fell about laughing until Lilly sat up and announced, “Right, I want to lick your pussy now.” And she plonked herself between my legs.

As frivolous as she was, my sister knew what she was doing when it came to oral sex. I guess Mum was right, that Lilly and I were born to be gay. Looking down and seeing her pretty mouth pressing into my pussy made my heart turn flips.

She was licking me beautifully, but I suddenly wanted her to go into my pussy. “Hey, Lilly… can you finger me?”

“Um, sure. Like this?” She slid a finger inside me.

“Oh yeah, just like that.”

Mum leaned in. “Lilly, sweetie — move your finger in and out like this, then lick her clit at the same time.”

When I looked over at Mum she had her legs spread and was fucking herself, showing my sister what she meant. That was enough for Lilly, who promptly fastened her lips to my clit, then began to drive her finger into my pussy again and again, thrusting in a hard, steady rhythm.

I felt the bed shift, and opened my eyes to see Mum kneeling next to me and masturbating yet again. She was close to coming, too, by the look of it.

“Mum… let me lick you.”

She didn’t need to be asked twice. Mum straddled my face, feeding me her pussy. She was facing Lilly, probably so she could take in the incredibly lewd sight of her seven-year-old daughter going down on me.

I fondled Mum’s full, lovely arse for a bit, then got an idea. Probing around blindly, I found her anus, teased it with a fingertip then slid it all the way inside with a single smooth stroke while I nursed at Mum’s clit. She came in my face, gasping and shouting, “Oh my God, yes — fuck me, finger my bum!”

Lilly must have been inspired by Mum’s ranting, because all of a sudden I felt her finger wriggling its way into my own bumhole. I wasn’t expecting it, and it made me jerk a bit. It didn’t hurt, though. In fact, it felt rather nice, and Lilly was having fun exploring me down there. So I was more than happy to let her do what she wanted, especially since she was still licking my clit.

Soon enough I had a wonderful orgasm, coming hard in my little sister’s face as she fingered my bum and I tongue-fucked my mother’s cunt.

I’d love to say that we carried our incestuous lesbian threesome into the early hours of the morning, but it was a school night and Lilly and I were both way past our bedtimes. Mum said that as a special treat, because it was the first time all three of us had sex together, we could sleep in her bed that one night.

We dozed off with Lilly and me on either side of Mum, all cuddled up naked. It might sound funny, but that was one of my favourite parts of the evening, our whole little family falling asleep together.

***

I was awakened by someone shoving me, exclaiming, “Wake up! You never told me, Poppy. WAKE UP!”

Mom’s voice, then, short and sharp: “Lilly! Leave your sister alone, let her sleep.”

I slowly sat up, rubbing my eyes. There were rays of sunshine filtering through the curtains here and there, but the room was still dimly lit.

“What time is it?” I asked, then yawned.

“Nearly time to get up for school,” Mum said, “but you’ve got a few minutes yet.”

That wasn’t about to silence Lilly. “Poppy, you never told me about your special friends, who they are… and Mummy won’t say. Please tell me.”

“Lilly, I love you, but let me get in a little more sleep here, okay? I’ll tell you at breakfast, I promise.”

“Fine,” she pouted, then settled down and nestled into me, with Mum lying behind her as the big spoon. We had ten more blissful minutes of lovely cuddling, then it was time to get up.

Once I was showered, dressed and ready for school I went down to breakfast, where an eager Lilly was waiting. I told her everything she needed to know, starting with the game of Monsters I played with Mum, the time I accidentally humped her leg. Then I talked about Kiki, how she and Mum showed me their pussies when I was under the kitchen table. Then there was Kiki’s daughter Henri, and the sex party the four of us had on the night when I made love to Mum for the first time. Finally, I told her that my best friend Mia and I had just become lovers, too.

Lilly was completely taken aback, but not enough to keep her from asking, “Can I have sex with Kiki and Henri too?”

“If you want to, I’m sure that they’d love it.”

I’ll phone Kiki and see if I can set something up,” Mum said. “Maybe tomorrow night.”

“Oh my God! I can’t wait!” Lilly cried, leaping to her feet and bouncing in place.

Incredible as that sounded, I found myself thinking, I wish we could do something sexy and exciting later tonight, instead of waiting for Saturday… but Mum had already made plans to go out with Nicole, Mia’s mother.

Okay, then, what is Mia up to tonight? Or Evie? Maybe they could come over…

“Hey, Mum,” I said, “since you and Nicole are going out tomorrow, could we have Mia and Evie spend the night here? Lottie, too, if she wants.” Lottie is Nicole’s oldest daughter. She’s fifteen, probably too old to feel like hanging around with a bunch of younger kids, but it couldn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m fine with that,” Mum told me. “You’ll need someone older to be here, though, if Lottie doesn’t want to come.”

Then I had an inspired notion: “What about Henri, Mum? She could watch us. I bet Lottie would want to come over if Henri is here!”

“You wicked thing,” Mum murmured, giving me a look of purest admiration. “I’m starting to wonder if I should cancel this date and stay home.”

“I’ve got a better idea,” I told her. “Go out with Nicole, then come back early. With her.”

“Yeah!” Lilly cheered, thrusting her fists heavenward. “Then we can all have a good time!”

Mum kissed me. “I’ve raised a genius.” She glanced up at the clock. “Oh, my. I’ve got to get dressed!” She hastened out of the kitchen, blowing us kisses along the way.

“If there are enough of us tonight, I know something fun that we can all do,” I told my sister. “I’ve made up a game we can play while Mum’s out.”

“What sort of game?” asked Lilly.

“I need to think about it some more… but if it works out, we’ll have a seriously great evening.”

Lilly giggled. “Pretty fucking hot, huh?”

“That’s right, baby sister,” I said, drawing her into my arms. “Fucking hot indeed.”

On to Chapter Ten!

 

Blessed Sacrament, Part Two

  • Posted on October 13, 2021 at 12:25 pm

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

“Don’t you move, girl,” Sister Katherine said. “Don’t you dare move. Stand up straight.”

I was literally scared stiff. I’d waited through the endless day for the moment I could run into her arms again, but when, finally, the other kids had all gone home, and I leapt from my seat, she raised her hand and brought me to an abrupt halt.

She looked angry, but I couldn’t tell if she really was or not. Teachers were always playing games with us, and I couldn’t believe she’d be upset with me, not after what had happened between us. I’d been a good girl, too, all during class, raising my hand at every question, even volunteering to read aloud.

But I did as I was told, standing with my feet together and arms at my sides while Sister undressed me for the second time. Yesterday she’d been gentle. Today she practically tore my clothes off, twisting the buttons on my blouse roughly and scowling at them as though they’d been put there just to frustrate her. Then she yanked the blouse from my shoulders. My bra sprang off with a flick of her fingers. She yanked my skirt and panties down together and ordered me to step out of them.

I didn’t try to hide my titties or my pussy; Sister had already seen me naked, and her whole attitude told me that any pretense of modesty would only lead to a scolding. She took her sweet time folding my things on top of her desk. Then she turned back around and looked me up and down. Her expression didn’t change. She still looked serious, but at least I knew she wasn’t really angry.

“Don’t ever grow up, child,” she said. “Stay as perfect as you are.”

It was a bright day outside, but the classroom was chilly, and my nipples stiffened in the cool air. They stuck out far enough that Sister could stroke them underneath with the side of one finger. It was the lightest, most delicate feeling, but made it hard for me to stand. My legs got weak, and the butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I couldn’t help closing my eyes, so I didn’t see the kiss coming.

But then Sister must have heard something, or seen it out of the corner of her eye, because she suddenly bolted to the door and threw it open.

“Sister Rose!” she called.

That would be Sister Rose Francis, the school principal, a little woman with a square, lined face whose age we were never able to guess. For a second I thought Sister Katherine was toying with me, pretending our principal was out in the corridor just to freak me out. But then I heard both their voices at the door.

“Glad I caught you,” Sister Katherine said. “May I borrow your office for a few minutes?”

“Of course,” Sister Rose said. There was a jingling of keys. “Just lock up when you’re finished. Did you get my note about the gym?”

“I did,” Sister said. “When can we use it?”

“They’ll be refinishing the floor this week,” Sister Rose said. “You can start intramurals on time. How is that student of yours?”

“Which one?”

“The boy.”

“Oh, that one. As mouthy as ever.”

“And yet he’s got the best grades in your class.”

“He might just be bored. But his mother doesn’t want him skipping any grades.”

They went on like that forever, or it feels like forever when you’re cowering naked under your teacher’s desk. The blood was beating in my ears, and I had to clench my pussy to keep from peeing on the floor. What was she thinking? What if Sister Rose saw my clothes on the desk and started asking questions? It would be interesting to hear how Sister Katherine could explain the naked student under her desk. It was almost like she wanted us to get caught.

“All right,” Sister Rose said finally. I heard something else about the key, and a thank-you, and then the door banging shut again.

“Barbara?” Sister said.

I didn’t answer. It was my game now. I tucked my knees under my chin and held my breath.

“Miss Scheide?” she called. “Miss Scheiii—de! Come out, come out, wherever you are!”

A long pause.

“You can’t go home without your clothes, you know. Though I would like to see that.”

She was putting all kinds of things in my head I would never have imagined a day ago: yesterday it was sucking on her tits like a baby and letting her put fingers in me. Today, it was running home with no clothes on.

I saw her legs and the dangling rosary through the knee-hole of the desk — then her face, bent low and nearly upside down. She was smiling at last. It was a wide, beautiful smile, and it put a little girl at her ease, even if the little girl was stark naked.

“There you are!” Sister said. “When you feel like coming out, join me in the principal’s office. Nobody will bother us there, and I have a feeling it’s going to get a little noisy. Knock twice.”

She flashed the little key at me, and then she was gone.

I sat there hugging my knees, waiting for the noises I heard in the hall, or thought I heard, to die down. I felt stupid and exposed, curled up naked under my teacher’s desk, but every bit as excited as when she’d stripped me the first time. And now we’d be behind a locked door, where we wouldn’t get caught. The only risky part would be crawling out and putting my clothes back on. Somebody in the hall might see me through the window in the door. Once I was dressed, though, I’d be fine.

But that turned out to be a problem, because when I finally did crawl out, I didn’t see my clothes on the desk. I didn’t see them anywhere. Sister Katherine had taken them with her.

The words “fucking bitch” weren’t in my vocabulary yet, but what I couldn’t say, I could definitely feel, and what I felt was terror. Terror and anger. My stomach bounced, and I had to suppress yet another urge to pee. Did she think this was funny? Yeah, obviously she did. She was probably sitting at Sister Rose Francis’s desk with my clothes in front of her, laughing her butt off.

I forced myself to calm down and think about this crazy predicament. To get my clothes back, I was going to have to walk the length of the school and knock on the fake oak door at the end of the hall. There would be no place to hide out there, unless I ducked into another classroom, and if anybody saw me, it would be too late, anyway. The kids were supposed to be gone, but maybe some of them had detention and would spot me passing by. And I didn’t know which would be worse — getting caught by a teacher or by another kid. The teacher would punish me, and definitely bring in my parents, but a kid would blab to everybody else in school, and my reputation would be shit — though that word wasn’t in my vocabulary yet, either.

Or I could sit there and wait. Maybe Sister Katherine would get bored and come back with my clothes. But something in me wanted to prove to her I could do this, whatever “this” was. Somehow I didn’t want to disappoint her.

I looked around for something I could use to cover my bottom or my chest — a poster, a book, a scrap of loose-leaf paper, anything. But there was nothing. I was on my own.

I tiptoed to the door, as though tiptoeing was going to be any help. Turning the knob, I pushed the door open just enough to stick my head out. If anybody was there, all they’d see was my bare shoulders, and even that scared me.

I looked down the hall toward the front of the school, then screwed my head around the door and looked down toward the principal’s office, which seemed a lot farther away than usual. The hall was dark, and, as far as I could tell, deserted. All the other classroom doors were shut. I took a deep breath — why a deep breath was necessary at this moment, I didn’t know, but it’s what you do — and stepped into the corridor.

Naked.

Nobody screamed. No alarms went off. I closed the door as quietly as I could.

The big decision was how fast to go. I should have run, but if a teacher was hanging out in one of the rooms, she’d see me (literally) streaking past and probably want to know what was going on. Too slow, though, and I’d never get there. So I set off at a deliberate pace, heel to toe, hugging the wall. One arm across my chest. One hand over my puffy slit. Nothing over my bare behind.

As I made my way forward, I became very conscious of the air around me, the way it flowed around my body and tickled when it came together again between my shoulder blades. I was also aware of my skin, every square inch of it. It seemed to crackle, as though swarming with electric current, and the hair on my arms was standing on end.

I glanced in every classroom as I passed, checking to see if I was truly alone, and it was kind of a letdown to discover I was. Getting caught would have been a disaster, but the idea of getting caught was exciting, almost too much to bear. This was what Adam and Eve must have felt like, aware they were naked at last. If they hadn’t eaten that apple, my being nude like this wouldn’t be a problem. Everybody would still be naked, and nobody would care.

Sister had played a rotten trick on me, but she was making me think more deeply about my faith.

The door to the principal’s office stood on the other side of a cross-corridor that led off in opposite directions to the east and west stairs. I hugged my shoulders — like that would keep me covered — and peeked around the corner. Footsteps echoed in one of the stairwells, lots of them. Some fourth- or fifth-graders must have been kept after and were just being let go. I pulled back and flattened myself against the cold wall. But when I realized they weren’t coming this way, I crossed the open space and knocked. Twice.

There was no answer, but after way too long, the door was opened from the inside. I practically fell through the gap, crashing to my knees and hugging myself to stop the sudden shaking. A pair of pretty bare feet, the toenails sparkling with clear polish, appeared under my nose, and the lock in the doorknob clicked above my head. I looked up, and there was Sister Katherine, looking much too pleased with herself. She was already naked, except for the silver crucifix hanging between her breasts.

“You should see the look on your face,” she said.

“You’re so mean!” I cried.

“Oh, nobody saw you,” she said. “You have to learn to play. The danger is what makes it fun.”

Then she was on the floor with me, kissing my head and my neck. She put her hand between my titties, too, no doubt checking my heart, which was racing to beat the devil. Our lips met at last, and all my rage and fear went into that kiss.

I knocked her back, landing on top of her. My long hair veiled our faces, my tongue shot into her mouth, and my thigh ground between hers. Her hands were all over me.

“Come on,” she said, rubbing my butt. “Do it.”

I didn’t know what that meant. I just looked at her, silently asking for clarification.

“Eat me, girl,” she said.

I was so green. What did she mean, eat her? It was one more thing in a long list of stuff I still didn’t understand. I thought maybe she was telling me to suck her breasts again, or just put my mouth on her somewhere. So when I bit her neck, she smacked me on the butt — not enough to hurt, but it got my attention.

My head snapped up. Sister took my face in her hands and spoke slowly, as though to a particularly dense child — which, really, she was.

“Lick. My. Pussy,” she said. “Got it?”

“Yes, Sister,” was all I could say.

If I’d known what I was doing, I would have made her wait for it, kissing her breasts, her tummy, and her legs, circling the center of her pleasure before moving in. But I was a seventh-grader who had been given an assignment. Sister wanted her pussy eaten, and eaten it would be.

There was a second of hesitation when I got up close and the thick smell wrinkled my nose. But it was thrilling, too — dirty and grown-up at once. I took another deep breath — it made some sort of sense this time — and dove in.

I kissed her cunt the way I’d kissed her lips: mouth wide open, tongue billowing into the hole. My mouth was full of hair. I found the fleshy bulb I’d seen before and slithered around it, looking for her magic spot. I expected to feel a point, or a nugget, something to let me know I’d found it. There was nothing like that, just hot wet flesh, but I knew I’d struck gold when Sister suddenly grabbed her titties and moaned, “Fuck yes!”

I broke into a sweat. Sister Katherine had just said the dirtiest thing anybody could say. Any kid would be dragged to Sister Rose’s office for that. Priests would be called. Parents would be notified. And it only got worse: after another minute under my tongue, Sister was whimpering “fuck” and “shit,” taking the Lord’s name in vain and calling me her filthy little whore. It was a marathon violation of the Second Commandment. I was so proud of myself.

Instinctively, I had learned how to go down on a woman, and just as instinctively, I knew when she’d had enough. Sister’s climax passed, and she lay there out of breath. I loved watching her breasts rise and fall, and the crucifix gleaming between them.

Now I felt like being gentle. I nuzzled her stomach, her breasts, her neck, and when I reached her face, she took mine in her hands again and gave me a long, grateful kiss.

“Can you taste yourself?” I asked.

Mmmm. Yes.”

“Did I do okay?”

“Lamb, it wasn’t a test.”

“But—”

“You did wonderfully. I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.”

The office had a shabby two-seater sofa against one wall. When Sister got tired of lying on the hard floor, she led me over, and we sat together, making out. This was when I finally kicked my shoes off. Sister stroked my sides, my legs, my back, so delicately that every nerve in my body stood on end. Then, when my little-girl pussy was swimming in juice, dripping on the rough cushions, she tipped me back and ate me. She found my clit and lingered over it, tickling and prodding.

Sister’s tongue was a precision instrument like a jeweler’s chisel, and it gave her total control over me. She moved one way, and I hovered on the edge. She moved the other way, and I came.

I bucked and shook and pinched my little titties. And yet, even as the pleasure was breaking my will, something inside told me it was wrong — that ancient, hysterical fear of sex, dressed up as Church teaching. It was still there, gnawing at me. I needed reassurance, and the only person I could turn to was the one who was making me come.

“Sister,” I said. “Isn’t this a sin?”

“No,” she said, her eyes shining at me over my crotch. “It’s a sacrament. You’re the sacrament. I’ve transubstantiated you.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t you see, darling? You’re like the Host. On the outside, in all your accidentals, you haven’t changed. You’re still a sweet schoolgirl. But inside, in your invisible essence, you’re my little whore.”

“No, I’m not!”

Shhhh!” She kissed my pussy gently as she spoke, with tiny liquid sounds. “Think it over. If you don’t want to be my whore, I can’t make you come again. Don’t you want to come again? Right now?”

“Yes, Sister,” I pushed toward her lips, already wanting more, but she stayed just out of range, barely grazing me.

“Please?” I begged.

“Then you know what you have to be,” she said.

“Okay,” I said.

“No, you have to say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can.”

She kissed my clit again, leaning into it, and the last barrier fell at last.

“I — I’m your little whore!”

“Good girl.”

This time, Sister Katherine threw her leg over my face and came down on me, pushing her sloppy cunt into my face. That jagged crucifix was trapped against my tummy. She went between my legs upside down, and didn’t bother with precision. She was noisy, slurpy, her tongue rolling over my pussy like a truck. I matched her lick for lick, smacking and sucking through her soggy pile of hair.

It might have been a minute, it might have been an hour — I didn’t care about time. All I cared about was coming, and making her come.

When we were done — finally, finally, finally — she collapsed in a heap. Right on top of me.

“Sister, I can’t breathe!”

“Oh, sorry.” She rolled off me, onto the floor.

“Oh. Whew!” she said. “That was… something.”

Then it was time to go. I watched while Sister got dressed, memorizing every detail ­— the way her butt curled when she stepped into her panties, the way her breasts lifted when she held up her bra, the way her habit swallowed her bare shoulders.

“Zip me up,” she said.

I was still weak. She had to help me to my feet. I took the opportunity to steal a last kiss, then asked, “Where are my clothes?”

“Oh, they’re around somewhere.”

“Sister!”

“I remember now. I left them in Room 2, under Sister Margaret’s desk.”

It was one last dirty trick. Sister Margaret’s room was right across the hall from ours.

“That’s all the way back!” I said.

“Bummer,” she said. “Is that the right word?”

“It’s not the word I’m thinking of.”

“Fresh little thing!”

She swatted my bottom again. We went back down the corridor together, holding hands, like real girlfriends. I only had my socks on, and I carried my shoes in my other hand, pressing against her as we walked, shoulder to shoulder, loving the way her skirt flapped against my bare legs — soft and scratchy at the same time. With Sister Katherine next to me, being naked out in the open wasn’t nearly as scary as it had been the first time.

As time went on, I got more and more used to it.

On to Part Three!

 

A Model Companion, Part One

  • Posted on October 10, 2021 at 2:38 pm

By Louisa May

Note from JetBoy: Those of you who have been enjoying this kind of erotica for a long while are surely familiar with the wonderful and very sexy lesbian fiction of Louisa May — first appearing at the Nifty Archive, then finding a second home at Lesbian Lolita. More than anyone, Louisa May inspired me to try my hand at writing erotica… but please, don’t blame her for that.

It’s been a long while since she’s been heard from, so imagine our surprise and delight when she turned up in our Comments section, responding to praise for her stories, some of which grace our archive. Seems that Louisa May more or less stumbled onto our humble site, and was delighted to discover that folks are still reading and getting off to her work.

Now that she’s back among us, it was decided that we needed more of her vintage stories at Juicy Secrets. Hence, we present this gem from 2005. Thanks, Louisa May, for all you’ve given us. We love you!!

***

“Valerie! Lara, look who’s here — it’s Valerie!”

Lara followed her mother into the small dressing room and dropped her rather heavy knapsack onto an empty chair by the door. “Hi, Valerie,” she grinned, shy but happy to see her attractive older friend again.

“Hey, Squirrel!” At the locker across from Lara’s dressing table, Valerie had turned at their entrance. She seemed genuinely glad to see the girl. “So I guess it’s you and me again, huh?”

As Lara started to answer, her mother cut in. “Well, you two are so darling together, how could they not do another shoot?” She fussed with Lara’s hair as the girl sat at her beauty station and took out various cosmetics from her voluminous bag. “And next, I suppose, will be the fall line, and then maybe a Christmas special…”

Valerie sifted through the various outfits that hung, unassigned as of yet, in the corner. “Well, I don’t want to be counting any chickens…”

“No, of course not.” Lara’s mother had taken out a hairbrush.

“…`Cause all of a sudden, y’know, the powers that be decide they’re seeing too much of us.”

Lara gritted her teeth as her mother dragged the brush through her fine blond hair.

“Two shoots?” said Valerie, rolling her eyes. “Too much? Well, that’s just silly.”

Lara winced. “Mom… ow?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, honey.” She dropped the brush in her purse and patted the girl’s head. “Sometimes I get to feeling like I’m brushing Puffy!” She nodded to Valerie. “Our dog.”

“Well, Puffy likes it. I don’t.”

“I know, sweetie, I said I was sorry.” The stoutish woman blew out her cheeks, thoughtfully drumming her fingers on Lara’s dressing table. After a moment’s hesitation, she spoke. “Honey? You think you’d be all right if I hit Bloomingdale’s for a while?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Sure? Because I don’t have to–”

Lara turned. “Really, Mom, yes. Yes. I’ll be fine. Valerie’s here.”

Her mother turned to Valerie. “Is that okay?”

The young woman shook her head. “Nope, sorry, not in my contract.” She grinned. “Of course it’s okay, what the heck do you think?”

“Well…” Lara’s mother picked up her purse. “Thank you.”

“Hey, I’m just gonna be here working. So’s she.”

“Fine, then. Have fun, honey.” She kissed the air by Lara’s cheek and headed out the door. “I certainly will!” And she was gone.

Lara stretched her arms out wide. “Aaaah! Free at last!”

Valerie smiled. “A bit of a pill sometimes?”

Lara made a face. “Sometimes!”

“Well, I’ve never been a mom, and certainly never the mom of an eleven-year-old, so I can’t do any judging.”

“Yeah but you’ve been a just-plain person, and sometimes, my mother is so… ooooeeeeeyyyuuaaahh!” And her fists and head came down on the table.

“Oo-ee-yuh. Yes, definitely. Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“Hello, ladies!” The door swung open and a small bulldog of a woman strode in carrying a big box. “First outfit on the right. And here, I’ve got unders, unders.” She held the box to her chest. “Light or white, and no colors.”

She turned to Valerie, who rummaged through the box and fished out a couple of lingerie packages. “These’ll do for me.”

The bulldog swung over to Lara. “You?”

Lara looked to Valerie, who translated. “Gotta have white or light-colored underwear for the shoot.”

“Oh. I think–” Lara peeled her jeans down to reveal a patch of pink.

The bulldog shook her head. “Nope. Here you go.” She dug into her box of tricks and produced a package. “Thong. Petite.”

Thong?” Lara looked somewhat stricken.

“Yep. Can’t have any lines showing for them shorty-shorts. Gotta be nice and smooth for that sexy little butt of yours.”

“Um, sure.” Blushing hugely, Lara accepted the package.

“Okay, Miss Manners. I think we have what we need.” Valerie’s arched eyebrow made its point.

“Thank you ladies. Any questions, I’ll be in the shop down the hall.” Bulldog bustled out.

“A thong.” Lara stared at the package as if it held narcotics.

“No biggie. I’ve been wearing them for a looong time.” Unfastening her jeans, Valerie pushed them down to her feet. Lara hesitated, then did the same. She noticed that sure enough, Valerie wore a white thong.

“Why’d you take them from her box? You’re already wearing what they want, aren’t you?”

Valerie smiled and winked. “Never pass up a free pair, right? It’s not like they pay us enough anyway.”

“Ohhh.” Lara had stripped down to pink panties and a training bra. Valerie couldn’t help marveling at what an amazingly pretty girl she was. An adorable face, and such flawless skin! Just… perfect, she thought.

“There’s a bathroom right around the corner if you want to change in there.”

“Oh, no, I just…” Gingerly opening the daunting package, Lara weighed the skimpy item in her hand. “I never wore one of these before.”

“It’s like a bathing suit bottom, only smaller.” Valerie stood at the rack, perusing the product. Lara found herself looking at the woman’s back; the smooth muscles and firm, womanly bottom. She liked looking at Valerie’s bottom. Suddenly aware of being distracted, Lara stepped out of her panties with a sigh.

Having selected her own outfit, Valerie turned to see Lara, now naked but for her bra and socks. She felt a little tingle beneath her belly, deep down. Wow, she thought. This girl’s only eleven, and I’m feeling attracted to her. Hmm.

She told herself not to stare… after all, the poor girl had enough on her plate at the moment. Instead, Valerie concentrated on putting on her summer wear.

“Oww…” As Lara padded over to the clothes rack, she wriggled her bottom.

“Feels weird?”

Lara picked at the thong. “Not just that, it’s…” Reaching behind, she plucked at it again, but to no avail. She looked at Valerie. “See… I got a mosquito bite right…”

“Ooh, yeah–”

“I mean, it’s right there, right on my, um, bottom hole–”

Valerie made a face. “Yikes. That’s one determined mosquito.”

“Yeah… but I scratched it b-back there, and it got kind of–”

“Infected?”

“No, I don’t think so, just… really sore. And now…” And Lara tried plucking at the thong again.

“Well… here’s the thing, kiddo. I have this trick, way back from my dancing days.” Valerie reached into her purse, then produced a jar of Vaseline. “Ta-dah! Never leave home without it.”

“That… helps?” Lara stood in place looking perfectly scrumptious, using one hand to hold the thong away from her bottom.

“Oh, sure. Here.” Lara took the jar. “Just smear a gob of it on your butthole. Keeps it from chafing.”

“`Kay.” Valerie busied herself with her outfit while Lara opened the jar. The woman smiled to herself as the girl made sounds of increasing frustration. Eventually, a small explosion. “OHHhh! I can’t…” She let out a sigh. “I’m such a klutz.”

“What, honey?”

Lara was near tears. “I just can’t… put it on and hold the thong away at the same time. It’s like I need three hands!”

Valerie found herself taking a small breath, trying to steady her racing heart. “Want some help?”

The plaintive look Lara gave her would have melted a glacier. “Could you? Please?”

“Easy-schmeasy. Turn around.” Lara complied, and Valerie scooped up a generous dollop of Vaseline. “Okay, just… open yourself up a bit.” A bit disorienting, this — and, wow, what is going ON here with me? she thought. Watching Lara reach back and use one hand to move the thong and the other to spread her crack open. And there was the poor little mosquito-bitten area, pink on pink.

As Valerie’s finger touched the lubricant to Lara’s pert little rosebud, the muscle tightened, and the tiny hole seemed to wink. Valerie tried to remain as professional as she was able while painting the tender area with the Vaseline.

“There… that should do it,” she said, hearing a slight shakiness in her voice. She gave a playful slap to the flawless bottom, taking note of its velvety softness. “All done.”

Lara turned, her cheeks crimson. Something about the child’s awkwardness endeared her to Valerie more than ever. “Well, that was the weirdest thing!” Lana declared. “I mean… you had to touch my butt! My butthole, even! God, it’s — it’s so embarrassing!”

Valerie grinned. “Hey, it wasn’t so bad. Hardly stinky at all.”

“Ohhhhhhhhh!” Lara cried, covering her face with both hands. Valerie was about to offer comfort, then she realized, to her relief, that the little girl was giggling.

“No, really,” and Valerie reached out to touch Lara’s flushed cheek. “I know how it feels to get chafed down there, and it’s no fun. So, really, I’m glad to help.”

Lara rubbed her face against Valerie’s palm, much like a cat would. “Aw, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

“Yup.” Valerie patted the girl’s cheek, then let her hand drop. “C’mon now — let’s see what goofy things they gave us to wear!”

***

Three hours later, a breathless young woman and a weary little girl swept back into the dressing room.

“Whoa! I am pooped!” Lara gasped, flopping into the nearest chair.

“Yeah, four outfits in one shoot.” Valerie began shucking her clothes. “That’s pushing it, even for them.” She stepped out of the svelte black slacks, then unhooked her bra.

“It’s the most I ever did at once,” Lara said. With a sigh, she stood and began to unbutton her top.

“Oh, they just wanted to see how much they could get out of us without having to pay more.” She tossed the bra in her bag and massaged her breasts. “Aaaah, blessed relief!”

Lara watched. Clearly, her comfort level with Valerie had risen dramatically since the Vaseline incident. She parted her lips to speak, hesitated, then came out with it. “Your breasts are so beautiful.”

Valerie smiled as she continued to massage herself. “Why thank you, sweetie. What a nice thing to say.”

“I mean it.” And she did. Valerie was the most beautiful woman Lara had ever seen, and looked even better out of her clothes. “They’re — they’re gorgeous. Just like you.”

“Oooh, keep it coming.”

Lara’s eyes widened. “Omigosh, look at your nipples!” The combination of Valerie’s massaging and Lara’s admiration had aroused the young woman’s dark nipples, and they were now visibly erect.

“Yeah,” said Valerie, looking down at them. “All these nice things you said to me… I guess it turned them on.”

“They’re like… I don’t know, like little brown fingertips or something.”

Valerie smiled. “Or something, yeah.”

Lara tilted her head to look, her cheeks slightly flushed. “How d-do they feel, um, when they get like that?” She frowned down at her own chest. “Mine are too small.”

Valerie had an extremely wicked impulse, then thought better of it. But watching Lara, noting the obvious interest in the little girl’s eyes… in the end, her hunger was too powerful to resist.

“Why don’t you touch them?” said Valerie. “Find out for yourself. I don’t mind.”

Lara’s eyes widened. “Really?”

Valerie nodded, moving closer to the girl.

“Um, sure,” Lara said. Okay.” With a shy grin, she reached out, extending a finger.

Valerie let both arms hang at her sides and waited, eager to be touched. When the child’s fingertip brushed the tip of her breast, it was the merest hint of pressure, barely anything — but it sent a wave of arousal bolting through Valerie, one so strong that she couldn’t stifle a low groan.

Lara immediately snatched her hand away. “What?” she blurted, her face a picture of concern.

Valerie smiled, shaking her head. “No, no, it’s nothing… that just felt really good, and I, um, wasn’t quite prepared for it.”

“My finger felt good? On — on your nipple?”

“Better than I thought it would. Much better.” She took a deep breath. “So what did it feel like?”

“Umm… can I touch it again?”

“Hmm, let me think about that… YES?”

Lara giggled. “Good.” Again the girl’s finger extended towards the now-swollen nipple, which had grown even bigger since she’d first touched it.

“Take it between two fingers, Lara… give it a squeeze. Oooohhh, yessss… just like that!”

“It’s so long,” breathed Lara, rolling Valerie’s dark nipple. “Ooh, it’s hard and soft!” She gave it a gentle, experimental tug.

Valerie’s eyes were half-shut, her mouth hanging slack. “Oh, GOD yes. Squeeze it… and pull on it. Do both. Both, honey. Mmmmm, yes!”

Lara was fascinated, and quite excited herself. This was like a dream come true for her, even though it was unlike any dream she’d ever had. She was giving her grownup friend good feelings, sexy feelings. And her friend was loving it, making frantic little humming noises as Lara squeezed both her nipples, circling them around in her fingers before she pulled at them, the way Valerie wanted.

“Ohhh… oh yeah,” Valerie panted, then she suddenly clutched at Lara’s arms. “That’s enough,” she said, gently removing the little girl’s hands from her breasts. She’d already come once, and felt certain that another orgasm would be much too conspicuous. And she didn’t want to scare Lara away. In truth, Valerie wasn’t sure what she wanted, but was beginning to suspect that it was something very risky.

“Did it feel good?” Lara was all enthusiasm, like a little puppy.

Valerie slowly nodded. “Ohh, Lara… that was way better than any massage I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, yay! I wanted to pay you back, You know, for the Vaseline.”

“Well, then, I hope you need Vaseline a lot more often!”

Lara made a face. “Yikes!” But then she laughed.

As they dressed, Lara was finally able to peel the thong from between her buttocks, then step back into her comfortable old pink panties. “Oh wow, that’s so much better.”

“Lara?” Valerie asked the girl, “would you like to spend an afternoon with me sometime? Just shopping, or seeing a movie, or whatever?”

Lara’s face positively lit up. “Are you kidding? That would be GREAT!”

“We’ll have to check with your mom.”

“Oh, she’ll love to have some time to herself. That’s what she always says, you know: “I never have time to myself!” Besides, she thinks you’re awesome.”

“Sounds good, then.” Valerie planted a kiss on Lara’s forehead, then touched her nose. “Let’s keep all that Vaseline, nipple-rubbing stuff to ourselves, okay? Secrets between friends.”

Lara blushed and smiled; a confidante! She nodded eagerly. “I can keep a secret.”

“Okay, kiddo, see you soon. Here’s my phone number, you can give it to your mom.”

“Or just keep it for myself,” Lara replied, pressing the piece of paper to her chest.

“Or that, yeah.” Another kiss, quick on the lips this time. “Bye, love.”

Lara was breathless. “Bye.”

With a final wink, Valerie made her exit.

Lara stared after her friend, even after the door had shut. “Whoa,” she whispered, standing there in her panties and nothing else.

On to Part Two!

 

Blessed Sacrament, Part One

  • Posted on October 5, 2021 at 2:14 pm

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Sister Katherine George joined the order when she was eighteen, and she’d only been teaching for a couple of years when, on my first day of seventh grade — and her first day at our school — she laid her grade book on her desk and wrote her name on the board. If I wasn’t quite an adolescent, she wasn’t quite an adult.

The sisters still wore habits when I was a girl, elaborate contraptions that covered them head to foot in black and white. The only skin we were allowed to see was their hands and faces, and Sister’s face was beautiful. She had smooth olive skin, flawless, really, with strong cheekbones and deep-set brown eyes. But what I noticed more than anything was her figure, the way her body filled her habit as she moved about the room.

The habit was supposed to take your mind off her body, but for me, it did just the opposite: it made me curious. I wanted to peek behind the curtain. And the curtain was practically molded to her. The details were hidden, but the form was obvious. The sash across her waist, which held a string of black rosary beads that hung down her leg, brought out the curve in her hips, and the white satin guimpe — what we called the bib — lay flat against the slope of her breasts, like fresh snow on a hillside.

Sometimes when she was teaching, diagramming a sentence or working out a math problem, I forgot what she was saying, and I daydreamed about what she must look like when she took a shower — sisters had to take showers, didn’t they? — shedding that portable prison one piece at a time and standing there naked at last, with nobody but God looking at her, admiring His handiwork. And I thought about how her boobs would bounce and bobble when she rubbed them with soap.

Her breasts fascinated me. All breasts did, really, because mine were just beginning to grow. I was always comparing myself to grown women, thinking, Will mine be like hers? Or hers? Some of the girls in class had been showing since fifth grade, and their bosoms were already full, which provided the boys with an endless topic for discussion. Mine were still nothing more than a pair of puffy pink buttons. Once, as an experiment, I covered them with tablespoons, to see how much overage there was. I was thrilled when I spotted the trace of a bulge along the rims, like slivers of the moon.

I still didn’t have any hair on my pussy, and just to show how much sex was not talked about at our house, I didn’t know I was going to grow any. I knew I’d probably get my period soon, because one day in sixth grade, Sister Joan Ignatius took us all to the girls’ room and showed us how to work the Kotex dispenser, but that was all they ever told us.

Whenever I pictured Sister Katherine naked, I imagined her lips were bare like mine, with a shadowy line between them that would catch the suds that washed down her body.

I’d never heard the word “lesbian,” and the idea that girls could love each other the way boys and girls did never occurred to me. But I liked thinking about Sister Katherine, imagining her body, wondering what her boobs would feel like in my hands, or her pretty bottom. Sometimes I’d lie awake and hug myself, pretending it was her.

About me. I was one of the tallest girls in my class, and skinny, with long legs and a thin face. I had long black hair and brown eyes. My skin was pale, but there was always a rosy blush in my cheeks. I’d actually begun to think of myself as pretty, because my skin was so clear, and boys had started getting crushes on me. At least that was the rumor spread by the other girls. No boy ever worked up the courage to tell me to my face.

All that’s left to describe is our school uniform, which is a big detail in any Catholic-schoolgirl story. Ours was a blue plaid jumper, with a deep V in front that plunged to the waist, worn over a soft white blouse with a round collar. The material, a kind of fuzzy flannel, was hot in the spring and cold in the winter, when the wind blew up our skirts. Dark blue knee socks and clunky blue-on-white saddle shoes — we called them clown shoes — completed the ensemble.

The uniforms were supposed to hide our bodies the way the nuns’ habits were supposed to hide theirs. It didn’t always work, especially on a girl with big boobs, but in my case it did: the only part of my body anybody ever saw was my knees.

So that’s what Sister Katherine and I looked like on the day in November when she asked me to stay after school and discuss my answers on our latest essay test. The questions were all about Christian morality and what men and women were supposed to do, or not do, about dating and marriage and babies, and I couldn’t remember any of it from class.

The book we used was confusing, too. It was one of those new Vatican II things that emphasized discussion over memorization (they’d thrown out the catechism when I was small), and almost every sentence was followed by one that started with, “On the other hand.” I didn’t care about men or women or babies anyway, so I left most of the questions blank. On a couple I wrote, “I don’t know,” and on the last one, I wrote, “I’ve never been kissed. How should I know what men and women are supposed to do?”

After all the lines had been called, and everyone had left for the day, Sister Katherine sat me down at an empty desk at the front of the center aisle and leaned against the edge of her own desk, with my paper in her hand.

She started by reading my name at the top of the page, like she was calling roll.

“Barbara Scheide,” she said. “Is everything all right at home?”

“I guess so,” I said.

“Are you sure? You seem very distracted, and your grades are slipping. I don’t want to fail you, but I have no choice if we don’t find a reason.”

I could have told her my parents were giving each other the silent treatment, and my dad was drinking more than usual — and for him, usual was a lot — but that was nothing new, and it had never interfered with school before. How could I tell her the real reason? That if I seemed distracted, it was because I was having sinful thoughts about my own teacher. And I was sure they were sinful. They must have been. Everything was. If you’re Catholic, and you’re having a thought, it’s a safe bet you’re committing a sin.

I kept my hands folded on the desk, the universal sign of obedience and submission. Sister put my paper down and came over. She genuflected next to me, bringing her eyes level with mine.

“Are you sure nothing’s the matter? I know it doesn’t seem important now, but you’re growing up, and soon you’ll be thinking about boys, and dating, and you’ll be having all kinds of new feelings. Maybe you’re having them now. Are you? Is there someone you think about a lot? Somebody in class maybe? Let me help you through it.”

It was hard to swallow, and my vision was getting blurry.

“Oh, don’t cry, sweetheart.”

She brushed my hair back and laid a hand on my bare neck. As light and cool as her touch was, it sent a hot charge all through me.

“You know, I get crushes too, sometimes,” she went on.

“Really? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. The point is, we have to deal with it — in a Christlike way.”

With every word, she leaned in closer, until I could feel her breath on my face.

“And you,” she said. “You’ll learn. All you need is experience. If you understand what you can feel, you’ll be better prepared to handle it. Do you understand?”

“I think so.”

“You don’t, but you will.”

Her lips were next to mine, almost brushing them as she spoke. Then she stopped speaking. We were still, and the room was silent while I focused my whole being on the textured softness against my mouth. I’d never been tempted to kiss a boy. Now I never would be.

“There,” she said, after all too brief a time. “Now you’ve been kissed. Not such a big deal, is it?”

But it was, and it wasn’t enough. I swung around in my seat and ducked my head, murmuring, “No, no, no.”

This time her tongue met mine. Her arms went around me, and she pulled me out of my chair. We dropped side by side to the floor, our legs curled under us, and she buried her lips into the crook of my neck. When she licked me there, I threw my head back and sighed, “Oh.”

Her tongue traced a delicate line back to my mouth., where my own tongue was waiting. For a girl who had never been kissed, I was becoming quite the little expert. But it was easy. All I had to do was mirror her — kneading my lips, rolling my tongue just the way she did.

I can’t say I was turned on, since I didn’t know what turned on was, but I was awfully confused. My head was swimming, the room was zipping around, and my arms, hanging on her shoulders, felt heavy, so I was in no condition to resist when Sister Katherine started taking off my clothes.

I hardly noticed when she unzipped me and pulled the jumper off my shoulders, but when she unbuttoned my blouse and put her hand down my bra, I thought I should at least ask where this was going.

But all I got out was, “Sister—”

“Shhhh,” she said, stopping my mouth with her fingers. “I’ve been wrapped in this shroud for so long. All I want is to be touched, all over, with no… barriers. I need to feel someone’s body against mine.”

Apparently, I was that someone. I barely understood what was happening, but if she was saying what I thought she was saying, what she couldn’t possibly be saying, my fantasy was about to come true. I was going to see Sister Katherine George naked. And all I had to do was let her see me, which seemed like a fair trade.

“Nobody will see us,” she said as if that was the big sticking point. She stopped pulling at my clothes while we looked at one another. Now, I understood, she was leaving it up to me — the kissing, the touching, the stripping, and all of it sinful. The hypothetical situation of getting naked with your teacher had never come up in class, but even a kid can extrapolate. I was being promoted from seventh-grader to grownup. It was the biggest decision of my short, sheltered life. Bite the apple. Be like God. My heart was beating like crazy.

“Yes,” I said.

“Yes, what?” she teased me.

“Yes, Sister.”

She undressed me lovingly, gazing at me the whole time with a kind of wonder, as though my string-bean body was truly the temple of the Holy Spirit. (That’s what they told us our bodies were.) I remember every piece of my uniform coming off — the way my blouse felt as it slid down my arms, and the sense of release, the sudden freedom, when she unhooked my tight, useless bra. Reflexively, I crossed my arms over my chest, ever the modest Catholic girl.

“Come on,” she said, tugging at my wrists. “Let me see.”

“I don’t have anything,” I said.

“No, you’re beautiful. You’re just starting to develop. It’s a wonderful time.”

She took my pink nipples in her fingers and squeezed, her grip growing slowly, steadily firmer. Then she twisted them, outward, in opposite directions. The sensation washed down my legs and spread my toes apart.

Sister stood me up, lifting me under the arms, and pulled down my jumper, along with my embarrassing little-girl panties with the pink rosebuds, which caught on my shoes when she tried to get them all the way off.

“Should have done these first,” she said, and she undid my laces. I raised each foot in turn while she held my ankle and pulled off the shoe. Finally, she rolled down my socks and, balling them up, threw them away far across the room — the last symbol of my oppression, she called them. I had only the vaguest notion of what she was talking about.

But I loved being naked — and in school, too, with Sister Katherine kneeling in front of me, worshipping my bald pussy and my budding chest like Saint Teresa entranced by a vision. I’d never felt more free, more beautiful, more petrified.

Sister reached around, took my bottom in both hands, and drew me closer. I was wondering when she was going to get naked, but when she planted her mouth on my slit, I forgot about that.

It was an expectant, fluttery feeling, the kind you get at the top of the roller coaster, just before the big plunge. Sister’s wet tongue parted my tight outer lips and slithered over that funny spot that had been tempting me since I was little. Sometimes I’d tried stroking it, or just rested my hand on it, but it had never tickled like this. I shivered, my knees kind of gave, and I had to hold myself up by Sister’s shoulders. It was awkward, though, with that sharp headpiece of hers poking me in the stomach.

“Here,” she said. “Sit down.”

The floor was cold on my butt. I sat with my legs open and watched in fascination while she lifted the white crown and black veil from her head. Her hair was short and spiky — of course, she didn’t need to wear it long — and the crown left an angry red groove across her forehead. I touched it, gently, to see how deep it went.

“Touch my wounds and believe,” she said. “And you wonder why we’re so mean?”

“More,” I said, tugging at her habit. She smiled wider than I’d ever seen before. In class, she was always so serious.

“Help me,” she said. She spun around and knelt in front of me, bowing her head. The zipper and buttons came together just below the nape of her neck — the keys to the forbidden kingdom.

Stripping her was surprisingly easy. The bib had two buttons in the back, and the habit unzipped and came off in one piece. The rest was like any other girl — a black bra and pantyhose, and boring white panties that went up to her navel. They were big enough to cover a sofa. She also had a silver crucifix around her neck, which she kissed before taking it off.

Exploring her body was like exploring my own, discovering what I would become. I was taken aback by the thick bush between her legs. It was like an Afro. I couldn’t imagine kissing her there the way she’d kissed me, and getting all that hair in my mouth. A bright pink bulb like bubble gum peeped through the tangles, and I saw where her magic spot must be, but at the moment I was more interested in her breasts. They weren’t as big as I’d imagined, but they were beautifully shaped, with pale brown rings around the hard, dark nipples.

“C cups,” she said. I jiggled and squeezed them and pulled on the tips, while the itch between my legs grew ever more insistent.

“I don’t think mine will ever be this nice,” I said.

“You know,” she said, “one of the sacrifices of being a sister is that you can never have children. I’ll never know what it feels like to have a baby suckle at my breast.”

“Aw,” I said. I was so busy playing with those bouncy cushions that I didn’t catch on.

“It would be nice to have a baby,” she persisted.

“It would,” I said, still not getting it.

“Would you be my baby?” she asked.

“Yes!” I said. “Sure.”

I honestly thought she meant “baby” like “sweetheart,” and went on playing. Finally, she stopped me by clamping her hands over mine.

“You little dummy,” she said. “I’m asking you to suck my breasts.”

“Huh?”

“Please,” she said. She spun halfway around, sideways between the rows of desks, and crossed her legs. I could see more of her pink parts through the hair. Kissing her down there might not be so weird after all.

“Come,” she said, patting her leg. I scooted around and lay back across her lap. She caught me, cradling me in one arm, and pinched her nipple between two extended fingers. In our religious art books, Mary held out her nipple just like that when she offered it to Baby Jesus, and, miraculously, stars and beams of light shot out of it.

I took it in my mouth.

“That’s right, darling, suck it,” she said. “Move your tongue, like you’re sipping through a straw. Don’t be afraid to bite. You can’t hurt me. Oh… my little baby.”

I’d dreamed of seeing her naked, of feeling her breasts, and now I understood that she’d been dreaming, too — dreaming of nursing a baby, even if that baby was twelve years old. We both got our wish that afternoon.

My legs fell open, and the hand that had held her nipple found my creamy center. She cooed over me, telling me not to be afraid to let go and come. I didn’t know what that meant. I thought she was asking me to suck harder, so I did, and the harder I sucked, the faster she jiggled my bud. The mystery was how wet I was, the juice that was dousing her hand. Where was it all coming from? Wherever it was, I was glad it was there, because it made it easy for Sister Katherine to slide her fingers deep inside me.

She started tentatively, just feeling around, but when she heard my breathing change, and the little grunts and squeaks I was making, and felt how wet I was, and knew I was okay, and I wanted it, she went at me hard. I could hear the sloshing between my legs as she pumped my hole, like a footrace through a swamp.

Something was growing inside me — something I always suspected was there, but was afraid to let loose. Well, it was loose now, and I couldn’t put it back in its cage. And I didn’t want to. I squealed into Sister’s tit.

“That’s it, baby… come for me.”

And now I knew what “come” meant, because it was happening right then — a sensation, like nothing I’d ever known, that radiated from the tips of Sister Katherine’s fingers. My first orgasm, big and terrifying and wonderful. For an ecstatic moment I was aware of only two things: the wild spasms in my cunt, and Sister’s nipple, which seemed to swell in my mouth the harder I sucked.

But I couldn’t ride the wave forever. It had lifted me up high, and it was going to drop me a long way down. I crashed, rolling my head away, losing Sister’s breast.

“Good girl,” she said, easing off with her hand, talking me down. “That’s it, just let go. Not so bad, is it?”

She drew her fingers from my hole and held me in both arms as the shuddering died away.

“Have you ever felt anything so good?” she whispered.

“No,” I said. “What was it?”

“I’ll tell you all about it,” she said. “I’ll tell you everything. Right now, I just want to look at you.”

And she did, rocking me with an expression I’d never seen before in anyone. I felt safe in her arms, yet poised on the brink of something exciting and dangerous, innocent yet decidedly dirty, and wholly new, as though my body and I had just been introduced. At the same time, I suddenly felt more mature than anyone else in the seventh grade.

On the less complicated side, I got an A on the test.

On to Part Two!