Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by BlueJean

Miss Laine came round to help us with the second honey harvest. That meant I had to be brave and show her I wasn’t afraid of the bees.

It was only the third time I’d worn my beekeeper’s suit, having been stung the previous two times and deciding my beekeeping days were over. But I didn’t want to be left out.

My teacher had two hives of her own, so she knew how to harvest honey, and as she and Mum carefully extracted the bars of honeycomb, me and Millie took them and gently brushed the bees off, putting them in a wheelbarrow and covering them over.

I tried my best to look like I knew what I was doing, but when Mum handed me another bar I accidentally dropped it, and that made the bees angry. Some of the stripey little gits swarmed around me and I tried to swat them away.

“Freya, stop flapping your hands around, you’ll just agitate them even more,” Mum told me as she picked up her smoker, puffing it around me to calm the bees down. “The worst thing you can do is panic. Just stand still until they calm down.”

“I know,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Miss Laine put her arm around me and squeezed my shoulder. “You’re doing great,” she said, and for some reason that made me feel even worse.

Millie unzipped her protective hood and pulled it off. “That’s better,” she said, taking a deep breath.

“Millie, put your veil back on,” Mum told my sister.

“I don’t want to,” Millie replied, holding her hands out for another bar of honeycomb. “It’s too hot and I can’t see properly.”

“The bees will sting you. Put it back on, please,” Mum insisted.

Miss Laine frowned. “Um… do we have a situation here?”

“They won’t sting me, Mummy, they think I’m one of them. It’s like… uh… it’s like… when you’re the first thing a baby animal sees and it thinks you’re its mummy. Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

“Do you mean imprinting?” Miss Laine asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“I don’t think bees do imprinting, Pixie,” Mum told my sister, reluctantly handing her another bar. “If too many bees swarm around you, put your hood back on, okay?”

“Okay,” Millie said, brushing the bees off the honeycomb.

“I’m very impressed, Millie Newton,” Miss Laine told my sister. “You’re definitely a child of nature.”

“Honey’s good for sore throats and coughs!” I blurted out, trying to impress my teacher, but everyone gave me a funny look.

And then a bee stung me. On the bum, of all places.

So yeah, that was nice.

At least I didn’t cry, though. What’s the point of a protective suit if it doesn’t even protect you?

The sting was really painful, so Mum and Miss Laine took me up to the bathroom while Millie went to check on Nigel. The little canary had been practising his flying in short bursts before returning to his cage on our bedroom windowsill. One day we hoped he would fly the nest for good and live in the wild, although I didn’t think there were many wild canaries in England.

I stood in the bathroom in my panties and t-shirt while Mum perched on the edge of the bath with a pair of tweezers. Miss Laine was kneeling next to me with a little dish of fresh honey to dab on the stung area.

“I need to pull your panties down a bit, okay?” Mum said to me.

I glanced at Miss Laine and went a bit red-faced. “Um, okay, I guess.”

“You don’t need to be shy, Freya Newton. I’ve seen bottoms before, you know,” Miss Laine said with a smile, then gave me a playful nudge with her elbow.

“I’m not shy,” I protested, and pulled my knickers down around my knees, shrugging at my teacher like it was no big deal.

Mum and Miss Laine gave each other a funny look, then Mum pulled the bee stinger out of my bum with the tweezers. She wetted a flannel and put some antibacterial soap on it. “I’m just going to clean the infected bit,” she said but then stopped. “Would you like me to do it? Or… would you prefer Sadie to?”

I turned to look down at Miss Laine, who raised an eyebrow at me. “Um… well… I wouldn’t mind if Sadie cleaned it,” I said, giving her a bashful smile.

“Okay, then,” Mum said and handed Miss Laine the flannel.

My teacher gently cleaned the sore lump on my bum while her free hand rested on my other cheek. Round and round she went with the soapy flannel. I felt a little bit embarrassed but also kind of excited to have my teacher touch me in such a private place.

“Well, someone has a very pretty bottom,” Miss Laine said in a playful tone.

“She takes after her mother,” Mum told her.

Miss Laine patted me with a dry towel, but her other hand was gently stroking my bum. “So pretty,” she said in a faraway voice. Peeking over my shoulder, I saw my teacher and my mum kind of staring at each other.

“Do you remember what I used to do when you came home with cuts and scrapes, Freya?” Mum said.

I did remember, although she hadn’t done it since I was little. I smiled at the memory. “You used to kiss them,” I said and did my best not to giggle like a little girl.

“Would you like Mummy and Sadie to kiss it better, then? Or are you too old for that now?” Mum asked me.

“You can if you want, I don’t mind,” I replied. I didn’t mind at all. In fact, the thought of it made me feel quite naughty.

Leaning forward, Mum kissed my bum where the bee had stung me. “All better?” she asked me.

I shook my head.

“Maybe Sadie should try then.”

I felt Miss Laine’s lips brush my bum. “Better now?” she said.

Covering my mouth to hide a grin, I shook my head again.

“Poor thing,” Miss Laine murmured. “Perhaps we should kiss it together.”

“It’s worth a try,” Mum agreed.

They kissed a bum cheek each, their lips lingering this time.

“I don’t even have a sting on that side,” I told Miss Laine, looking back over my shoulder.

Miss Laine looked up at me and smiled, then went back to kissing my bottom with Mum, and as I stood there gazing up at the ceiling with a dreamy smile, I could feel my kitty getting warm and tingly.

Then they did something I wasn’t expecting. I felt Mum and Miss Laine move away from my bottom, and when I looked back they were kissing each other instead. Right on the mouth, with tongues and everything!

I gasped in shock, and they broke apart – smiling at each other, then at me. “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, “You two just kissed!” I was still recovering from the shock of my mum letting me watch her touch herself – Now she’s snogging my teacher? How outrageous!

They both laughed and Miss Laine put a finger to her lips. “Shhh, it’s a secret!” she whispered. “Now hold still while I put some honey on your sting.”

“Honey’s good for bee stings too, huh?” I said.

“It is,” Miss Laine told me as she smeared a little bit of honey over where I’d been stung. “Quite often in nature, the cause and the cure come from the same place.”

My teacher sucked the remaining honey from her finger and made a silly face at me, puffing out her cheeks to make me laugh.

“You can pull your panties up now,” Mum said and I tried not to show my disappointment. The embarrassment I’d felt at Miss Laine seeing my bare bum was mostly gone, and I was in the mood for doing more sexy things.

I slowly pulled my knickers up, being careful not to wipe the honey off.

Millie was standing in the bathroom doorway, her mouth hanging open. “You showed Miss Laine your bare bottom!” she said, astounded.

“So?” I said with a shrug.

“Good job, honey bum!” Miss Laine said, tickling me.

“Speaking of honey, would you both take a jar over to Mr. Dalliard?” Mum asked me and my sister. “I haven’t heard from him in a few days.”

OMG, it was sooo obvious why Mum wanted to send us on an errand! I bet she wanted to kiss Miss Laine some more and probably do even ruder stuff, too! I wondered if they were actually going out with each other now.

I wished I could have stayed and watched them, but Mum shooed me away. I gave her a little smirk and went to put some shorts on while Millie put a lead on Bee, and then we headed out to Mr. Dalliard’s.

***

We watched the girls out of my bedroom window as they wandered down the garden path with Bee.

Sadie turned to me. “Are we making honey?”

“Yes… but not that kind of honey,” I told her.

She gave me a knowing smile. “What kind, then?”

I pushed a hand inside my trousers and hooked a finger into my pussy. I was dripping wet down there. The naughty game we had played with Freya in the bathroom was still fresh in my mind, my perverted imagination filled with possibilities.

Withdrawing my finger, I reached out to smear my liquid arousal over my best friend’s luscious lips. “That kind,” I told her, my voice husky with lust.

Sadie licked her lips and smiled impishly at me. “Such a dirty lady…”

I gestured to a pile of boxes on my bed. “I treated myself to some gifts.”

“Aww, I thought they were for me,” Sadie pouted as we made ourselves comfy on the bed.

I opened a box and pulled out some black sheer stockings with a lace trim. Another box contained lacy panties: black, crimson, teal. More boxes and bags revealed vintage brassieres, a scarlet and black baby doll negligee and more stockings.

“Goodness, you have been busy,” Sadie said, running her hands over the negligee.

We had money put away in the bank; Tony’s career as a successful city trader had seen to that. And although it seemed too easy, too convenient to rely on those funds, I was grateful for the security they represented. Selling honey wasn’t going to make me rich, that was for sure. So yes, sometimes I felt like spoiling myself.

“Shall we try some on?” I asked my friend.

Sadie began to undo the buttons on her jeans.

I took my trousers off and pulled a pair of black stockings up my legs. I’d worn nylons like this most days as a barrister in the city, but beekeepers didn’t have much use for such indulgence. They felt good against my skin. Tugging my plain knickers off, I slipped on a new pair that matched the stockings. I felt silly wearing a t-shirt with my sexy ensemble, so I pulled that off too, allowing my breasts to spill out.

Sadie wriggled into a pair of crimson stockings and some red and black panties. Like me, she took off her shirt and went bare-chested. “Ooohh, these knickers are nicer than mine. I might steal them,” she said to me.

“Panty thief!” I retorted, and we giggled like a couple of schoolgirls.

“Did you give Freya my panties?” Sadie asked me.

“Not yet. Tonight, maybe.”

“Do you have any new stories to tell me about her?”

“No, but I think I might tomorrow,” I told her with a naughty grin and ran my fingers over the lacy material of my new panties.

“What are you planning to do?” Sadie asked me as she kneaded her pert breasts.

“Let’s see… I might ask Freya to come to my room again.”

“And then what?”

I slid a hand down my knickers and ran two fingers through my wet folds. “How about I give her your dirty panties and watch her as she smells them?”

Sadie caressed herself through my panties, pinching her nipple with the other hand. “You’re such a pervert.”

“Don’t you make a mess of my new undies, naughty girl,” I scolded her, playfully.

“Tell me what else you’re going to do with Freya tonight,” Sadie asked me, her eyes wild with lust.

“I don’t know, but it’s going to be dirty, Sadie. Really dirty,” I said as I fingered myself.

“Let me watch,” Sadie moaned.

I smiled at her and shook my head.

“Please,” she begged.

“Not tonight, but soon. Now take those nice new panties off and come sit on my face,” I told her.

Quickly shucking my panties, she straddled my head, lowering her steamy cunt down to my waiting mouth. I feasted on her, my tongue savouring the sour, metallic taste, hungry for more.

Sadie moaned, humping against my mouth, her hands full of my hair. “I loved kissing Freya’s cute little bottom, Georgia,” she whimpered as I tongue-fucked her. “She smelled so good. Could you smell her, too?”

I couldn’t answer. Her gorgeous cunt was pressed tightly against my mouth, which was exactly where I wanted it. I assaulted her with my tongue until she came loudly, her musky syrup glazing my lips.

Bending forward, Sadie put her face between my legs, pulling the gusset of my damp knickers to one side to get at my cunt. We ate each other out in a frenzy until we came together, Sadie for the second time.

She made me feel so dirty. And I was enjoying being dirty lately. More so than I had in a very long time. I hadn’t realised how pent up my sexual desires had become, living out in the country with the girls, never dating, always afraid of betraying my late husband’s memory. It was all bound to spill over sooner or later. So there I was with my tongue in my best friend’s cunt, and fully intending to do something equally as naughty to my ten-year-old daughter.

So this is how it chooses to manifest itself. So be it, then.

***

As me and Millie followed the narrow country roads to Mr. Dalliard’s house, I tried my best to think of a way to talk to my sister about what had happened at the Menhir Stone, but for some reason I was scared to. What we had seen just didn’t seem possible and I wasn’t completely sure that it had happened at all. I’d tried to tell Mum and Miss Laine but they thought I was joking. And why wouldn’t they? It sounded like one of the pretend games me and Millie liked to play, except this one was real. I thought it was real, anyway.

Was I going mad? Whatever was happening to Millie, was it happening to me too? I needed to know.

I took a big breath and spoke. “Millie?”

“Yup?”

“As… as your big sister, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour.”

Yeah, that sounded good. Just like Mum would say it.

So of course, Millie laughed and began imitating me. “Oh, I feel we should have a chat about your recent behaviour! Look at me, I’m so posh! Come here and polish my shoes!” she said to me in a stupid high-pitched voice, prancing up the road.

“Shut up!” I shouted at her, trying not to lose my temper. One of us had to be mature. “Look, this is serious. What happened to us when you touched the Menhir Stone?”

Millie stopped messing around and looked at me, frowning slightly. “I dunno. It just sucked me in.”

“How?”

She just shrugged.

“Did we really see a Dryad?” I asked her.

“Yeah, I told you she was real. You saw her, didn’t you? And the other Dryads, too?”

“I don’t know what I saw. I thought maybe it was a dream or something.”

“It definitely wasn’t a dream.”

“But why was she at the Menhir Stone? I thought she lived in the big tree.”

“She does, but it doesn’t mean she can’t go to other places, too. That would be like you and me not being able to leave our house, wouldn’t it?”

“I suppose. Does she talk to you?”

“I… I’m not sure. It’s all confusing, like there’s two of them, and they’re fighting over me,” my sister said, looking upset.

That really spooked me. “Two of them?”

“I think something else lives in the tree. Something not nice.”

“Like a bad Dryad?”

“I dunno.”

“Why can’t I hear them?”

Millie stamped her foot. “I don’t know, Freya! I’m not a – a tree nymph expert, am I?”

I studied my sister carefully. I didn’t think she was fibbing. She usually made a face like a startled monkey when she told lies. But… weird spirits hiding in trees and rocks? I just didn’t know what to think.

“We should ask Mr. Dalliard. He told us to visit the tree in the first place. I’m quite cross with him, actually!” I announced, determined to get to the bottom of this mystery.

Mr. Dalliard had lived in the same old farmhouse his whole life. It once belonged to his parents and there used to be a farm attached to it, but over the years bits and pieces of land had been sold off here and there until just the house remained. It was filled with old, well looked after furniture and loads of strange objects and antiques from Mr. Dalliard’s many travels: A Zulu fighting stick from Africa, a Samurai sword from Japan, a German Kaiser helmet from World War One, an old diver’s suit with a helmet that looked amazingly heavy, a gigantic ammonite fossil that was at least a metre wide, and loads of other cool stuff.

We sat in Mr. Dalliard’s living room while he made us tea, and I warily eyed the big grandfather clock in the corner. The last time I was here, it had struck 12 PM and had scared the stuffing out of me with its loud chiming. It was like having Big Ben in your lounge.

Bee wandered round the living room sniffing everything in sight. I hoped she didn’t decide to do a wee on Mr. Dalliard’s carpet.

Mr. Dalliard came in with two tin mugs full of tea and a plate of biscuits on a tray, which he put down on a small table. “Tea’s up, nippers,” he croaked.

“Thank you,” me and my sister said together.

“Tha’s navy tea. Put ‘airs on yer chest, it will.”

“I don’t want hairs on my chest!” Millie squealed.

Mr. Dalliard slapped his knee in amusement and wheezed out a raspy laugh. “Thanks for the ‘oney. From the last ‘arvest, is it?”

“No, it’s a jar from the first harvest,” I said to him. “We haven’t extracted the second lot yet.”

Millie took a swig of her tea and put the mug down on the table. Mr. Dalliard picked it up and put it back down on one of the coasters he had laid out for us. “Don’t be putting it on my nice table, ya pest! Took me bloomin’ ages to polish that up with yer mum’s beeswax, that did.”

“Sorry,” Millie said.

I sat up straight and cleared my throat. “Mr. Dalliard?”

Mr. Dalliard sat down in his armchair with his own mug of tea. “Aye?”

“Millie… well, Millie’s been doing some weird stuff ever since we went to the big oak tree and… and it’s probably your fault, cause you told us to visit it in the first place. There. I said it.”

Mr. Dalliard dipped a custard cream into his mug of tea and stuck it in his mouth. Bee gazed up at him with her ears pricked up, in hope he might share the next biscuit. After he’d chewed and swallowed it, he finally spoke. “What sort o’ weird stuff’s that, then?”

“She hears voices, don’t you, Millie?” I said to my sister.

Munching on a chocolate digestive, Millie nodded. “One wants me to come live in the tree and the other one shows me how to make friends with animals.”

“And Millie touches stuff and goes all spaced out, like this,” I explained, then made a face like a zombie.

“I don’t look like that!” Millie laughed, giving me a slap on the arm.

“You do! She does, Mr. Dalliard. We found an old fireplace in the forest and Millie touched it and she did that face, then she started going on about a lady who makes medicine or something.”

“I think one of them used to live there,” Millie added.

“And then the other day – and you probably won’t believe me but I’ll tell you anyway – Millie touched the Menhir Stone near Miss Laine’s house and we both zoomed back in time and there were Neanderthals and Dryads. Like, actual real Dryads!” I finished, catching my breath.

“Yeah, I had to hold on to the big stone because Freya was licking—”

I interrupted Millie with a look, shaking my head. “No, Mr. Dalliard doesn’t need to know about that bit.”

Mr. Dalliard sat there holding a biscuit up to his open mouth as he listened to our story. When we had finished, he closed his mouth and put the biscuit back on his plate. “Well,” he said. “Well, I never. Tha’s quite the story.” He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, then slipped them back on again. “Bloomin’ ‘ell. I’s a right idiot,” he said in a quiet voice.

“What do you mean?” I said.

Mr. Dalliard sighed. “I knows there’s summit in that old tree, I’s known it for a long time. Got myself in a spot o’ bother there when I were a nipper. But the thing is, young’uns, most folk in this world is dull as dishwater, and dull folk don’t know about the magic that hides in the trees and the oceans and the old stones. Ignorance is like a wall that protects ya, see?”

Mr. Dalliard leant forward in his chair and spoke to Millie. “But you, Millie, you’s as sharp as a button. You sees things others don’t. And it’s both a blessin’ and a curse, right? You sees all the magic and all the strange things that this world hides, but the strange things, they sees you as well. And mayhap, some of ’em might not be so good.”

“What do we do, then?” I asked. “Should we tell Mum?”

Mr. Dalliard picked up his mug of tea, but his hand started to shake uncontrollably. He grabbed his wrist with the other hand, and I quickly took the mug from him, setting it back down on the table.

“Are you okay, Mr. Dalliard?” I asked him as Millie gently rubbed his shoulder. He’d gone white as a sheet.

“The world’s caught up to me, nipper,” he told me, rubbing his hand. “That bit of extra time the Lady gave to me, it’s startin’ to run dry, it is. Can’t say I’s sorry, though. Terrible thing to see your loved ones die. First me darlin’ wife, then me own son.” He gazed sorrowfully at the grandfather clock. “Imagine seeing yer own boy grow old and die… terrible…”

We sat there silent for a moment, the sound of the old clock tick-tocking away in the corner.

Then Mr. Dalliard seemed to notice us again and slapped his knee. “Listen to me, goin’ on like an old codger! You best be gettin’ ‘ome, littluns. I expect yer mum’ll have supper ready soon, won’t she?”

Millie took two biscuits for the journey home as I snapped the lead on Bee.

As my sister skipped across Mr. Dalliard’s yard, I turned to him. “What should we do about Millie?”

Looking down at me, Mr. Dalliard put a hand on my shoulder. “I dunno if yer mum’ll listen to ya, but young Sadie will. She might just know summit about that old fireplace in the woods, too. She knows all kinds of things, that girl does.” He gave me a wink.

“I suppose that’s why she’s a teacher,” I said.

“Aye. And Freya?”

That might have been the first time Mr. Dalliard had called me by my name.”Yes?”

“Look after yer sister, alright?”

“I will,” I replied.

On the way home I gave Millie a bit of a telling off for nearly spilling the beans to Mr. Dalliard about the naughty games we’d been playing, and reminded her that those kinds of things definitely needed to be kept secret.

Little sisters are such a pain sometimes.

***

I looked at the clock on my bedside table – 10:27 PM.

Would she be here soon? I felt like a schoolgirl waiting for her first love. It felt new and exciting. It was ridiculous, but I was going to run with it anyway.

“Would you like to visit me in my room again tonight?” I’d whispered to her earlier in the evening across the kitchen table while Millie poured herself a glass of juice from the fridge.

“Yes, please,” she’d whispered back, sporting a cheeky grin.

I lay on my bed, new black stockings and lacy panties tattooed against my skin, and a negligee, wispy and gossamer-light against my body, its see-through material teasing the promise of my bare breasts. I’d considered slipping into my high heels, but despite what the porn movies tell you, shoes are just not very practical in bed.

My bedroom door slowly creaked open, and a little head appeared.

I poked my tongue out at my older daughter and she poked hers back at me. I gestured for her to enter with a seductive finger and she crept into the room, closing the door behind her. Leaning back against it, she sighed, then gave me a sweet smile.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I told her. “I thought you’d got lost on the way.”

“Your room is right next door to ours, silly,” Freya cooed.

“Come here, you,” I said to her and she padded across the room to stand at the foot of my bed.

“How come you’re dressed like that?” she asked, looking me up and down.

I caressed both legs through my new sheer stockings. “It feels naughty to wear sexy things like this. Don’t you like them?”

“Yeah, I definitely do. It’s just, I never saw you wear anything like that before.”

Freya began climbing onto the bed but I raised a hand to stop her. “Wait.”

She frowned. “Huh?”

“I didn’t say you could sit on my bed, did I?” I said, teasing her.

“Aww, don’t be mean!” Freya whined.

“Stay there for the moment. First, I want to see you take your pyjamas off.”

Freya tutted and rolled her eyes at me. She pulled her pyjama bottoms down and stepped out of them, then unbuttoned her top, letting it fall to the floor. She stood at the bottom of my bed in her baby blue panties, and a surge of warmth rippled through my loins.

“Now put a hand down your knickers and play with yourself while I take this negligee off, okay?” I instructed her.

“Okay,” Freya replied, her hand disappearing down into her undies.

“That’s a good girl. It makes Mummy so hot when you do that.” I sat up and pulled my negligee up and over my head, then lay back against the pillows and squeezed my full breasts, rolling the nipples between my fingers until they were rock hard.

“Can you take your knickers off, please?” Freya asked, a hand toiling away between her legs.

“Oh, you want to see Mummy’s pussy?” I teased.

She nodded eagerly, her knuckles sliding up and down through the thin material of her panties.

Standing up on the bed, I slowly walked to the edge where my daughter was waiting. Her eyes went wide as I drew closer. “I think you should take them off,” I told her. “Seeing as you want to see what’s underneath so badly.”

Freya withdrew her hand from her knickers and reached for the waistband of mine. The telltale signs of arousal glistened on her fingers.

“Nice and slowly,” I said as she began to slide my knickers down. I stopped her as they reached my knees. “Would you like to give them a little sniff before you take them all the way off?”

She nodded bashfully and I gently took her face in both hands, pulling her towards me.

“That’s it, smell Mummy’s panties, baby,” I growled while my daughter breathed in the scent of the damp knickers stretched around my knees.

Making Freya smell my cunt should have been one perversion too many. I never would’ve considered doing anything this lewd with my husband. But where my little girl was concerned, it seemed my inhibitions were few and far between. She liked my smell. And I liked that she liked it.

“Is it nice?” I asked her.

Freya looked up at me and nodded, her eyes heavy with lust. My musky scent was clearly working its primaeval magic, sending signals to her developing mind and body. I stroked her hair, marvelling at the potency of the erotic sight before me.

But my throbbing cunt needed some attention, so I gently pushed her away. “Take them all the way off now,” I said, and she slid my panties down to my ankles, so I could easily step out of them.

Now nude but for my stockings, I stood over Freya and moved my feet apart, then spread my labia open, pushing hips out towards her. “Is this what you were hoping to see, little girl?” I hissed.

Freya stared at my cunt, no more than a foot away from her face, wearing a slightly intimidated expression. I’d never felt so dirty; so perverted. Never before had my sexuality manifested itself in such an aggressive manner. I tried to restrain myself, not wanting to take things too far and scare my daughter.

“Do you like it when I open myself for you like this?” I asked her. She nodded. “Yeah? Can you smell it?”

“Yeah, it’s nice,” Freya said.

I sauntered back down the other end of the bed, glancing over my shoulder at Freya, giving her a seductive look and a great view of my bum before sitting down with my back against the headboard, legs spread wide open. “Take your panties off and come join me,” I told her.

Freya eagerly whipped her knickers off and climbed onto the bed, opposite me. She pulled her legs as far apart as she could, imitating my spread-eagled pose.

“Let’s finger our pussies for each other, baby,” I growled, and was immediately rewarded with the sight of Freya sliding a finger in and out of her bald cunt.

I shoved two fingers inside myself and frigged myself lewdly for my little girl’s benefit. “Oh, yes. That looks so sexy, Freya. Fuck your little pussy for me.”

“This is so amazing, doing this with you, Mum,” Freya told me. “I’ll bet none of the other girls at school get to touch themselves with their mums.”

“I’ll bet they don’t. And that’s why it has to be our special secret. I’d get into lots of trouble if anyone ever found out,” I told her as I worked my cunt up into a messy, musky lather.

“I won’t tell. I don’t ever want us to stop doing this,” Freya moaned.

Taking my dripping fingers out of my cunt, I smeared them over my stockings, leaving shiny trails over the fine silk. “See how wet I am, baby?”

“Wow, your stuff is so creamy… and there’s so much of it,” Freya marvelled as she played with herself.

“Mummy can get really messy when she’s excited,” I told her, planting my fingers back inside myself, roughly thrusting them in and out to generate more pussy juice. “Let’s see how sticky we can make these pretty new stockings.”

I wanted her to see how nasty I could be, to show her how daring I was, maybe even shock her a little bit. I coated my fingers in the milky secretions, then wiped them all over my stockings, leaving them glistening with juices.

“You’re so rude, Mum!” Freya told me, amazed at my perverse behaviour.

My eyes locked with hers, I slowly pulled my stockings down, first one and then the other, making a show of it. Still holding the second one, I climbed over my masturbating daughter. I stretched the sheer material out and brought it close, sliding it back and forth under her nose. “Look what you made me do on my nice new stockings, baby girl.”

Freya closed her eyes and frantically rubbed her clit until a collision of senses overwhelmed her and she exploded into orgasm underneath me. “Oh, Mum!” she squealed, her whole body stiffening; convulsing.

“That’s it, baby, come for Mummy. Good girl,” I soothed, running my fingers through her hair.

She finally lay there gazing up at me, her chest rising; falling as her climax subsided. “Oh, wow,” she panted, “orgasms are the – the best thing ever!”

“Let’s lie down together,” I suggested, and we stretched out side by side facing one another. My hand found her hip and the curve of her smooth bottom, fingertips caressing gently. “Can I have a kiss?” I asked her.

“Sure,” she replied and kissed me sweetly on the lips.

“That was nice,” I told her. And it was. But I knew it could be even nicer. “Now, how about one with tongues?”

Freya opened her mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. “Like… a girlfriend kiss?”

“Yeah, it’ll be our little secret,” I whispered, holding a finger to my lips.

Freya smiled shyly and kissed me again, but this time our tongues met and mingled. She tasted sweet in my mouth, and as we both pulled away, I saw the laughter in her eyes – that we would deign to do something so wonderfully daring, so outrageous.

Her gaze settled on my breasts, and without much thought, I took one of her hands in mine. “It’s okay to touch them if you want,” I told her and placed it upon my tit.

Watching one another masturbate seemed to have advanced into touching and kissing. The line had been crossed. I’d told Sadie how I planned to do dirty things with my daughter, and perhaps that was merely my desire driving me in the heat of the moment. But now, just as I had accepted the developing sexual relationship with my best friend, so too was I willing to follow this incestuous accord with my little girl wherever it chose to take us.

Freya tentatively explored my breasts, her palm sliding over the erect nipples.

“You can squeeze them a bit harder if you like, they won’t break,” I assured her with a chuckle.

She kneaded and massaged my tits, the tip of her tongue poking out in adorable concentration. “It’s like making bread,” she muttered, perhaps more to herself than to me.

“Is it okay if I touch you, too?” I asked her. She nodded at me halfheartedly, barely listening to my words.

I ran a hand over her flat chest, over her tiny bee-sting titties, her skin wondrously soft against my fingers.

Freya looked up at me. “Mum?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Can we maybe, um… touch each other’s pussies, please?”

I was too far past the point of no return to refuse. Of course we were going to touch each other there. How could we not? “Sure, baby. Let’s be naughty girls and finger each other.”

I reached between my daughter’s legs and traced her puffy lips with the tip of a finger, gliding through her moist, hairless slit.

In turn, she explored my fleshy, more mature cunt – her eager fingers here, there and everywhere, collecting creamy juices as they went about their business.

“Is this okay?” I asked her. I knew I wanted this, but I needed to make sure she did too, that she was happy with this new development in our relationship.

“Yeah. I’m just trying to find your hole so I can put my finger in,” Freya told me quite candidly.

I took her finger and guided it to the entrance of my cunt. “There we go. Push it in.” She slowly penetrated me, and I gasped in delight. “That’s it, in and out. So good.” I wanted more, though. “Put another one in,” I groaned and was rewarded with a second digit inside me.

I eased my own finger into Freya’s pussy and gently fucked her, being careful not to go too deep.

“Do it harder, please, Mum,” Freya begged me and I picked up the tempo a little, my finger making little squelchy sounds as it slid in and out of her. She matched me thrust for thrust, fucking me deeper and harder, a ring of frothy, creamy juices forming around her knuckles.

“Ooh, yeah,” I hissed. “Fuck Mummy, little girl.”

“I’m not a little girl… not really,” Freya told me in a faraway voice.

“You’ll always be my little girl,” I said, and kissed her on the mouth.

“Fuck me, Freya! Make me come!” I cried, and as my orgasm burst to the surface, I held my daughter’s fingers deep inside me, whimpering; moaning while my spent cunt twitched and spasmed exquisitely. “Freya! Oh, baby girl, that feels so nice!” I let it wash over me, then relaxed, slumping against the bed.

“Well, you could have made me do an orgasm, too,” Freya pouted, and I realised that, in my urgency to come, I’d pulled my finger out of her.

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetie. Do you want me to finger you again so you can come too?”

Freya flashed a wicked grin. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind rubbing my pussy on yours and making myself do an orgasm that way, if it’s okay with you.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at her frankness. “I don’t see why not.”

“Okay, I’m gonna get on top of you,” she told me.

“Hold on. Let’s try it another way.” I sat back against the pillows with my legs open wide. “Now come and sit on me sideways,” I said, arranging her on top of me until she was in my lap, her pussy snug against mine.

“I never did it this way before,” she said to me, excited at this new, naughty opportunity.

“This is called tribbing, by the way,” I told her. “Off you go then, sexpot. Rub away.” I swatted her lightly on the bum.

With a giggle, Freya began sliding her pussy back and forth on mine. I cupped her bum cheeks and pulled her in for a tighter fit, warm juices lubricating our erotic endeavours and infusing the air around us with an intoxicating musk.

“It feels so good!” Freya gushed as she humped against me.

Suddenly remembering something important, I paused in my grinding. “Oh, I have a present for you,” I said, retrieving a pair of lacy knickers from under my pillow. “Guess whose these are?” I held them mere inches from her face.

“Aren’t they yours?”

“Nope, guess again.”

She made a face. “I dunno, tell me!”

I draped the dirty panties across her face and took hold of her arse again, grinding my cunt against hers. “They’re a present from your teacher.”

“Miss Laine?! These are Miss Laine’s panties?!” Freya exclaimed, astonished. She pressed them to her nose and took a deep sniff.

“I thought you might like them,” I said as we settled back into a hot, sticky rhythm of pussy grinding. “Fuck your mummy, baby girl. Rub your sticky little cunt on me,” I was barely in control, spewing out the nasty words before I could stop them.

I remembered back when the girls were younger and I would bounce them on my lap, and how they would giggle hysterically. This was like a dirty, corrupted, wholly perverted version of that innocent game, and somehow that made it even better.

“Bouncy, bouncy, bouncy, baby girl!” I panted, thrusting myself against my daughter as she rode me. “Fuck Mummy’s cunt!”

“Mum! I’m… I’m gonna do it on you, okay?!” Freya squealed.

Acting on a sudden impulse, I stuck a finger up her arsehole. Freya’s body jerked violently as she came against me.

I came too, arching my pelvis up so our cunts were mashed together. “Oh, yes! Come on me! Come on me, little girl! Oh, fuck!”

Freya fell forward upon me and I put my arms and legs around her, kissing her head and whispering sweet words to her. “Good girl… that was so nice… so, so nice… you’re such a big girl to make Mummy feel like that…”

She closed her eyes and fell asleep on me, Sadie’s panties still clutched in her hand. I gently laid her down next to me. Soon I would carry my daughter back to her room, but there was one more thing I needed to do first.

Reaching for my laptop, I opened it up and made a video call to Sadie.

My best friend appeared on screen, sleepy eyed; her hair a mess. “What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” she mumbled.

“No, nothing wrong,” I told her in a hushed voice.

“You woke me up, you cow,” Sadie groaned.

I spun the laptop round so that it was facing my naked ten-year-old daughter, peacefully slumbering with her teacher’s dirty knickers held to her face.

“Oh…” Sadie whispered, barely audible through the tiny speakers.

I spoke softly, taking on a playful cadence. “We had ever so much fun tonight, Miss Laine.”

I saw her shiver. “So I see,” she said, her voice tinged with desire. “I’d love to join you.”

“Soon,” I told her. “Soon…”

On to Chapter Eight!

 By kinkys_sis

       Edited by:  Jacqueline Jillinghoff – Thank you.

I stood on the station platform, silently fuming at myself. I’d just missed my train, which now meant a fifteen-minute wait. It wasn’t that I was in any particular hurry, it was just that I hated waiting.

My eyes weren’t focused on anything, but suddenly, some stupid girl was walking straight at me. She was busy looking at her phone, her fingers a blur. I made to get out of her path, but then; her face! Shit, she was fucking gorgeous.

I stood my ground and waited as she got closer. Would she notice that she was about to run into me?

At the last second, she halted, a breath away. She looked up in surprise. “Oh! I’m sorry,” she blurted, waving her phone. “It was kinda important.”

I was in shock. How could anyone be so beautiful? At least, not people you met. You only saw girls like her on magazine covers and such.

Her eyes took on a sparkle, an awareness of her effect. God, those eyes. I melted.

“I really am sorry,” she murmured, then with a smile she turned and walked past.

She was young, but her age seemed impossible to tell. Thirteen? Sixteen? Shit, I didn’t care. If instant love was possible, this was it.

I glanced around, but I couldn’t spot her. She must be somewhere. She couldn’t have disappeared.

I heard clicks, although, for a moment, they didn’t register. A glance behind and there she was. Her phone tilted up, then another click.

Was it possible? She was actually taking pics of me?

I should have felt annoyed at this invasion of my privacy. Instead, I felt flattered. Why would this young angel want my pic? Me, in my forties, certainly past my prime, even though my friends tell me that I am still attractive.

I took a peek over my shoulder. This time she was waiting for me to look. Her eyes gripped mine, and again that smile. My thighs clenched involuntarily, my thoughts in a whirl. How could this child have such an effect on me?

I tore my eyes away after she took one more pic of me, facing her this time. I floundered. What should I do? It was then that I felt the dribble. Fuck, I was wetting myself over her.

I felt my lust rising. Two could play this game. Reaching behind, I hiked up my dress and adjusted my thong. All the time her phone clicked away.

It was then that the train pulled in. The girl walked past, flashing another dazzling smile. “Thank you,” she said and slipped onto the train.

I shook myself before following. It was my train too.

In seconds, I saw her, she was still watching me. Was it a questioning look this time? My feet seemed to have a mind of their own, I found myself pushing my way through the crowded carriage toward her.

The closer I got, the faster my heart beat. What the fuck would I say? This was all beyond my experience.

But she led. “Hi, I’m Bee. You didn’t mind? I mean like, taking your pic? When I almost bumped into you, when our eyes first met … well, I just wanted to remember how you looked.”

“Er, Alison. Pleased, I’m sure. But I … I don’t understand, I’m old enough to be your mother. Why would you want to remember me?”

“Huh! Age — poof! — who cares? You’re beautiful, especially your eyes, pools of magic that drew me in.” She laughed, a wonderful tinkly sound. “See, I’m a writer and I come out with crap like that.”

A writer?” I stupidly echoed. “You’re so young. What do you write, poems or something?”

God, her laugh, this time sultry and sexy. “I write erotica … lesbian erotica actually. I wanted to remember you for my next character. I’ve never used an Asian in my stories before. Can I guess? Chinese-American, right?”

Was I becoming some kind of an idiot? “Erotica? You mean sex stories? And yes, we originate from China.”

A shockwave ran through me when her hand lifted and brushed my arm. “Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.” Her grin widened at my reaction. “I have this effect on some people, and I can see you’re one. Hope you don’t mind.”

“But you’re only …”

She interrupted me. “I’m what, too young? I’m thirteen according to the calendar, but I’m light-years older when it comes to sex.” She trailed a finger up my arm. “You feel it, don’t you? Don’t deny, Alison.”

“Thirteen? I could get shot for my thoughts. If I told you I’m wet, would you know what I mean?”

She leaned close and whispered. “Your cunt is leaking because of me.” She laughed at my shock. I never used swear words like that. How could this girl know such things?

She got even closer, her warm breath on my ear. “So is mine.” Three words, and I almost came. She pressed on. “Your lovely ass — I’m dying to probe it.”

If I was shocked before, I was in total disarray now. My body screamed out for her, but I also felt terror, terror at being caught with a juvenile. I knew I should back away before it was too late.

She read my mind. “Oh Auntie, you look flustered. Are you okay?” Her fingers still traced, sympathetically, but also sexually.

Understanding dawned. She was giving me a way to be with her, in public at least. “Where are you going, Bee?”

“To the beach. We have a small villa on the seafront. I’m going there today, my sister perhaps tomorrow. And you, Auntie, where are you going?” Her hand was almost at the top of my arm. As she dropped it, a finger trailed along the side of my breast. An electric-like shock hit my nerves, and my nipples erupted. Her eyes sparkled when she saw them.

Was she inviting me to join her? Or perhaps she was just playing. But, I answered her question. “I’ve been to visit my mother-in-law, now I’m on my way home, next stop actually.”

“So, if I asked for you to join me, to come to the villa, would you?”

My thoughts tumbled head over heels as I looked at her. Her long, very long hair, the shape of barely budding breasts. Her emerging figure belied her age. She was ravishingly beautiful. But I was drawn back to her model’s face and magnetic eyes. That was where her true beauty was. Then her parted lips drew my gaze, and for the first time, I saw how utterly kissable they were. Fuck, what do I do?

She understood my struggle. “Auntie Alison, please come to the beach, have some fun, just a swim, a glass of wine maybe. You can leave when you want … or you can stay. I’d like you to stay.”

I found my hand now being held. “Really, Bee? You really want me to come?”

She laughed. “Oh yes, I want you to come all right.”

“But I don’t have anything with me, no costume, toiletries, in fact, nothing.”

“You’re not saying no, which means you will come. We won’t need costumes. The rest we can sort out.” She leaned forward and hugged me. “I do so hope you will … Auntie.”

It felt as though my body heat had risen by several degrees. No costumes? I put my arms around her, pulling her close. Nobody was paying us the slightest attention. We were just two people standing in a crowd. Then the side of her hip pressed between my legs, the rocking of the train did the rest.

Through a haze, I heard her. “Come for me, Auntie, come for Bee.”

We had reached the city outskirts. The majority of passengers exited the train. Only one couple was left, up at the far end of the carriage, and they were facing away from us.

I was about to suggest we should sit. But, even as the doors slammed shut, Bee grabbed my hand and pulled it under her skirt. “Feel my panties, Auntie. See how wet I am.”

It was true, her knickers were soaking. I had succumbed to this girl, I was hers. Oddly, she was the one in control. I began to run my fingers across her front, feeling her slit through the thin wet material.

She purred like a kitten, pressing herself at my fingers. “You can fuck my pussy, Auntie. We’ve got time.”

The crotch of her knickers was easily moved aside. I found her bare flesh, slick and slippery. Her heat felt as though it would burn my fingers. I trembled at the forbidden touch, but there was no turning back. This wondrous young beauty had ensnared me.

I sensed that she needed more than one finger, and I slid them into her, meeting her urgent thrust. She muttered in my ear. “Fuck yes.” Then she bit my neck. My fleeting thought was of vampires, but I didn’t care.

Her lips came around until she could force them on mine. A kiss filled with passion and urgency in its demands.

Never did I remember being so captivated and thrilled. I wanted to please her. I had to please her.

My tongue twinned with hers, her saliva feeding me when I sucked. Her eyes remained open, boring deep into mine. I imagined they gleamed. She knew I was utterly hers.

I was conscious of time, the next station, so I fucked her hard, my fingers a blur as they pumped her pussy. Her juices ran, coating my hand.

Her vagina clamped, and she grew taller as she rose on the balls of her feet. She broke the kiss and pulled me tight, as again, her lips fastened on my neck. I felt a stab of pain from her teeth as suddenly her whole body went rigid, pressing hard against me.

I held her ass, taking her weight when the trembling began. She shook more and more. I had never witnessed an orgasm that seemed to go on and on for so long.

She pulled her face back to stare at me again, the shaking still wracking her body. Her face contorted, almost a snarl. Slowly, she came down as her face relaxed back to its normal beauty.

I gazed at her in wonder, until. “Bee, never — what the fuck was that?”

Now, she smiled. “Oh, that’s just me. When someone really attracts me, turns me on, that’s how I come.”

The train began to slow. I pulled her to me and gave her a quick kiss. “I think I’ll stay. Shall we sit?”

She held my hand and pulled my head onto her shoulder. I sat beside her, trying to understand. How did a woman of my age and supposed experience come to feel that I was the submissive one to a thirteen-year-old? Yet, somehow, it felt comfortable.

We arrived at our destination … Colinda Beach, a handful besides us left the train. “Bee, I need to go and pay my excess fare. I’ll be quick.”

For the benefit of the railway official standing on the platform, she said, “Okay, Auntie, I’ll wait here.”

The guy in the ticket office was an asshole. He insisted he had to charge me double the normal fair as I had failed to purchase the correct ticket. My voice rose, protesting that I had voluntarily come to pay.

Bee appeared. “Is there a problem, Auntie?”

The ticket guy looked at her. “Hello, Bee, haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Hi, Bob, may I introduce my aunt? She’s come down for the weekend.”

He gave me a puzzled look, my ethnicity obviously tripping him. “Aunt by marriage,” I explained.

Now, he smiled, “Well, that’s different then.” He tore up my ticket and threw it in the trash. “You have a nice weekend, folks.”

What a nice guy after all.

Outside the station, she told me, “It’s twenty minutes from here, but it’s a lovely walk.”

I gave her a “humph,” then waved at the cab driver sitting on the wall. The cab ride only took three minutes.

Bee told the driver to stop, as we had arrived at a gorgeous little villa. It was set at least a hundred yards from its nearest neighbour. From the rear, I could see that the front veranda faced straight onto the sand.

“Oh my, Bee, it’s beautiful. What a stunning place.”

She grinned. “I knew you’d like it, come on, let’s get it opened up and get us a cold drink.”

I followed behind her, down the side path. For the first time, I properly saw her ass. Fuck, I was already creaming my knickers again.

A key was produced from her bag, and a moment later, she held the door open for me. The room looked homely, nice, and comfortable, not simply a holiday chalet.

I helped Bee open the windows and shutters, and the cool breeze quickly cleared the stuffiness. There were two bedrooms, both with large double beds, though one had an extra single. I paused to admire the decor of one of the rooms. Bee grinned. “Yes, this is my room, but shall we come back to that, let’s have a drink.”

The wine cooler was well stocked. I saw at least twenty bottles, quite aside from the rack of reds. Bee saw my astonished look. “Oh, we’re not drunks. My mother likes to impress.”

In reply to her question, I told her any light white would suit me just fine. She didn’t hesitate but pulled out a Pinot Grigio. It wasn’t a wine I knew. A minute later I was savouring a delicious glass of wine. “Italian, — do you like it?” Bee asked.

“It’s wonderful. It seems that you know your wine as well as everything else.”

She brushed it off with a shrug. “I’m part Italian. I grew up with wine.”

I almost laughed at the way she’d said it. Grew up, at thirteen? The thought died in my mind. She wasn’t a child. God no. But quite what she was, I had no idea.

She had seen my expression. “Don’t worry, Alison. Please accept me as I am, not what you think I should be.”

Bee put her wine on the table in the centre of the room. “Would you like to swim or …” she glanced back at the bedroom … ” or would you like to fuck?”

There was little doubt that this girl was nothing but direct. “I’d love a swim, but …”

“Poof, costumes, I told you, it doesn’t matter here.” With that, she lifted her top.

Oh God, so beautiful. Small budding breasts, dark puffy areolas surmounted by pert nipples. “You’re staring,” she laughed, before wriggling her skirt down.

I followed her lead and soon stood naked in front of her. Bee simply grinned for a moment as her eyes travelled up and down. “I knew it,” she said, “Fucking gorgeous.” Her eyes lingered at my boobs. “Nice, not much bigger than mine.” She gave her sexy laugh. “And your nipples — they grow big just as fast as mine do.”

I followed her out onto the veranda nervously, but there wasn’t a soul in sight. She grabbed my hand. “Come on. Let’s get in.”

We ran across shimmering yellow sand, a little hot underfoot. The water was wonderful — no shock of cold. It felt so warm.

For the first time, Bee laughed more like a happy young teenager, a lovely infectious laugh. Then she dived and disappeared. Of course, I guessed what was coming and she didn’t let me down. I felt her fingers grab my ankles, before sliding up my legs.

I jumped in surprise when her mouth clamped to my pussy, and I felt her tongue take a quick poke between my lips.

She surfaced in front and pulled me into an embrace. Our lips met as our breasts pressed, her nipples as hard as mine. She pushed me toward the water’s edge.

Control forgotten, our hands roamed each other, pinching, squeezing and caressing. In unison, we found each other’s clits and collapsed into the roiling water. Our legs wrapped around one and other, hands trapped between. We rolled in the surf and we fucked. A wonderful, exhilarating fuck. She kissed like someone possessed, while lust overwhelmed me, my need as powerful as hers.

I felt her grip harder and knew she was getting close. I let myself go, striving to match her. Our fingers curled inside, our palms rubbing our nubs. She pulled away from our kiss, and once again, I saw that look, the fire in her eyes. I knew she was there.

We humped and rolled, I heard her scream, and my voice joined hers. “God, fuck me, Bee.”

We held each other as we spasmed into glorious orgasms.

We lay together, oblivious to the world. Then I heard her whisper. “You fuck nice, Alison. I’m so pleased you decided to come and stay.” She jerked her head back. “You are staying?”

It was my turn to laugh. “Just you try and stop me. Can I rinse the sand out of my ass, now? It’s rather gritty.”

“No, you can’t. That’s my job.”

Laughing together, we rinsed each other, before, hand in hand, we walked back up the beach.

I had never showered with another person before. Now here I was, with this gorgeous girl, who couldn’t keep her hands off me, and I certainly didn’t mind.

In a matter of only minutes, she had me right on edge again. Fingers deep inside my pussy. But when she forced her soapy finger into my ass, I was lost.

I struggled to keep myself from collapsing, I’d already come twice this morning, my normal weekly rate. Now, I was being fucked again, back and front. Then, when she bit my thigh, my orgasm erupted, a volcano blowing its top. I grabbed the taps for support as my legs trembled.

Bee rose and put her arms around me, softly stroking as she kissed. “Fuck, Alison, you come so beautifully. This is going to be the best visit yet.”

In a daze, I reached for her small breasts, but she smacked my hands away with a laugh. “Not yet, lover. Let’s get dry and have something to eat, we have all day after all. Then there’s the night as well.”

When we entered the kitchen, I saw lunch spread on the island. In answer to my inquiring look, Bee explained, “This was delivered this morning. It’s all lovely and fresh. We have an arrangement with a deli, they can let themselves in.

I hadn’t realised just how starved I was. I’d only had a light breakfast, never mind being fucked three times. I was ravenous.

Gorgeous crab and mayo sandwiches were washed down with more of the lovely crisp Pinot.

I would normally have felt uneasy sitting naked outdoors, but here we were, completely nude on the veranda, and it seemed so right.

I couldn’t keep my eyes off her, she must have been the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen and yet, here she was with me. I found it so hard to believe. How had it happened? Why me?

Bee dazzled me with a smile. “You’re still wondering, aren’t you? There really is no need, I wanted you as soon as I saw you. A beautiful lady, not the young girls I’m used to, I had to try. You didn’t know it, but I set my trap right from the off, and you walked straight into it. You don’t mind, do you?”

How could I mind? How many women of my age ever get an opportunity like this? Besides, I was already in love with her.

I put my plate down and held out my hand. “Come and sit on my lap, Bee.” She giggled, but came straight to me.

Her beautiful little bum nestled into my thighs. I saw her glance at my neck before she leaned and kissed me where it was still a little sore. After several kisses, she whispered. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know that I’d bitten you so hard. It’s a really bad habit of mine.”

“It’s okay, Bee, I don’t mind if you eat me all up.”

She laughed again. God, I could listen to her laughter and never tire of it. “Really?” she said as she wriggled her bum, forcing my legs apart. She slipped down between my thighs to kneel in front of me. Her hands grabbed hold of my ass and pulled me forwards.

She delicately spread my pussy open, then looked back up with a smile. “Such nice lips you have — and lookie here.” She was pushing my hood up, leaning her face near.

I felt her breath coming closer, and then bliss. Her lips kissed me right where it mattered. I doubted that I could possibly come again, but the feeling was wonderful. All I knew was that I wanted her there.

I had no idea what to expect, not from a little girl, but she soon showed me that she was no newcomer to eating pussy. In no time, my clit was on fire, responding to her lips and tongue. Then her fingers, where they now seemed to belong, slowly stroked in and out.

Feeling that familiar rush course through my body, I knew I would come again. I opened my eyes and found hers fixed on my face. It was those liquid pools again. I could happily drown in them.

Lifting myself off the chair, I forced my hips to her, as I started to shake. “Bee, oh God, love me, Bee.”

Then I was coming. My body convulsed like never before, spasms of sheer pleasure wracking me. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from hers, this goddess of love.

I fell back into the chair. “Bee, stop. For God’s sake stop. No more, my love.”

She took one final long lick, then came up to me, pushing her tongue into my mouth. I tasted my come just before our lips touched — a long, slow, tender kiss.

The sudden clapping shocked us both. I snapped my head around. “What the fuck? You perving on us or something? Fuck off.”

Bee began to laugh, then put a finger to my lips. She looked at the girl, chiding. “Sis, like she says, what the fuck? You’re not due until tomorrow. I wasn’t expecting you, not yet.”

The newcomer laughed again. “I can see that. So who’s the dishy lady? Gonna tell?”

“Alison, meet my sister, Maria,” she said and gave me a quick kiss. “It’s all cool, lover, you’ll see.”

She turned to her sister. “Now piss off for a minute. Go get yourself some wine.”

I watched another gorgeous ass wiggle its way indoors. My mind went into overdrive … the possibilities, oh God.

I looked at Bee. “Is she anything like you? She’s certainly as beautiful as you.”

Bee laughed. “Nah, she’s not a sex freak like me. She’s sorta more normal.”

She must have seen my disappointment. “Oh, don’t you worry, she still fucks good — real good.”

“You don’t mean … you and her?”

“Yup, we fuck. Don’t all sisters?”

Bee had managed to shock me several times, but now, my God, what a pair! I really was glad I had decided to come. This could be a very hot weekend.

We kissed for a little longer, then Bee said. “Come on, I’ll introduce you properly.”

I followed her back into the villa. Maria, with her back to us, was busy getting herself something to eat. But what grabbed my attention was that she was also as naked as us.

From the rear, she hardly looked any different from Bee. Maybe her legs were more muscled, and her hair wasn’t quite as long.

When she turned to face us, though, I saw the differences. Gorgeous high boobs, not large, but oh so pert. The muscles so clearly defined on her stomach, she had to be an athlete.

However, the main attention-grabber was her pussy. Fuck. Whereas Bee still had a young girl’s slit, Maria had lips, beautiful lips below a shiny hairless mound.

Maria inquired wryly. “So?”

I was speechless, dumbstruck. Maria walked toward me, then glanced at Bee. “May I?” In a heartbeat, her lips were on mine, her arms pulling me close. The kiss was far more tender than Bee’s, less sultry, but just as wonderful.

She broke the kiss and turned to Bee. “Got a kiss for sis?”

I watched the pair, they kissed like true lovers, hands exploring and caressing everywhere. Never had I seen such an erotic display.

Bee’s arm reached toward me, beckoning. Then it was a three-way cuddle, two pairs of lips on mine, tongues flicking between one and the other. I followed their lead and let my hands roam, fondling two amazing asses.

It was Maria who broke the cuddle. “As much fun as this is, I need to eat, guys. In or out?”

Feeling somewhat braver now, I suggested. “Our glasses are still outside. Shall we take the bottle?”

Maria had demanded to know the story. Where had Bee found me? Bee recounted the details of our meeting and what had followed. She included every sexy detail. Normally, this would have made me want to hide, but the way Bee told it, I felt rather proud. It was also, I noticed, making me very wet again.

It was obvious they were lovers. Their flirting never ceased. The nice thing, though, was how they included me. Their free and easy manner soon had me relaxed and enjoying myself. Maria had clearly accepted me and the fact that I was staying.

I couldn’t help wondering what bedtime would bring. There were plenty of beds, but there were three of us. As Bee’s guest, it was only logical that I would stay with her. But then I realised that Maria had come here not expecting to find me. It would have been her and Bee together. Which really only left one solution … oh my God, was it possible? The three of us together?

The afternoon was spent in endless chatter, with sexual innuendo casually thrown in. We swam some more, or rather, played naughty underwater games. I was never quite sure exactly whose fingers were delving into me. There came a moment when we stood together, each had a finger in an ass, a pussy rubbing a thigh. A three-way standing trib, exchanging kisses as we humped.

It was Bee — who else? — who said, “This is lovely, but the bed would be better.” Although I was very close, I knew she was right. I almost came right then at the thought of the three of us on the bed.

My legs struggled in the fine sand as arm-in-arm, we made our way back up the beach.

Inside the villa, I reached for a towel, but Bee snatched it away. “No need, I want to fuck.” Then she tugged me along.

Bee threw me onto the bed before the two beautiful girls descended on me. Someone’s lips covered mine. A hand mashed my tits. Another pair of lips fastened onto my pussy as hands lifted my ass from the bed. Then, a finger, — God two — pushed inside and began fucking me.

Whereas in the water, I had been so close, now I didn’t want to come, not yet. The pleasure these two me gave, fuck — I wanted it to last forever.

Two things occurred at the same moment. Teeth bit a nipple. Another set bit my clit. It was too much. I went over the edge. Waves of pure ecstasy engulfed me, shook my whole body like never before. The orgasm, so mind-blowingly intense, confounding my will to think. I rode the wave, on and on.

Lips caressed my face as my vision cleared. I saw my lovers, now kissing each other, their cheeks resting on mine.

My arms struggled to move, but somehow, I reached and hugged them to me. As their passion increased, saliva dribbled from their lips, I sucked it in and savoured them both.

Maria broke away and straddled Bee’s face. She beckoned to me. I didn’t understand at first but she helped me into position, kneeling in front of her with my ass backed into her stomach. Then she pushed me down.

As my mouth fell on Bee’s inviting slit, my ass rose in the air. Maria pressed her tongue against my rear entrance. Instinctively, I lifted my hips higher.

I had never before had a tongue in my ass, and I wouldn’t have imagined it possible. But getting fingered in the water earlier must have prepared me. I felt the wonder of her tongue sliding in. A soft and beautiful ass-fuck began.

As I wrapped Bee’s beautiful little button between my lips, a thought crossed my mind. I was sucking a thirteen year old’s clit. Yesterday, it would have seemed impossible, yet here I was. I wanted to love and please her after everything she had given me.

My years of experience came into play. Very quickly, I felt Bee pushing herself at me. Her legs lifted high, allowing me to tuck my arms through and push her legs toward her body.

My saliva joined the juice flowing from her, a small stream running down and coating her small bum hole. I knew why she had raised her legs, an invitation I gladly accepted.

I licked her clit harder with long, sweeping strokes. Below, my fingers pressed her star and slipped in deep. No virgin ass, this. Inflamed, I fucked her, and the little vixen immediately rocked to meet my thrusts.

Maria’s hands gripped my thighs, fingernails digging in. I sensed they were both very close. Could I come again?

Bee must have sensed it too, for she began rubbing my clit harder. As Maria’s tongue stopped moving, still buried deep, Bee ground her clit into my mouth. I sucked forcefully and soon felt her tremble, then saw the squirt in front of my eyes, the first time I’d ever witnessed this.

Bee stopped moving, yet the bed still shook. It was Maria, who shrieked. Both sisters had come.

Maria fell to the side, dragging me with her, her tongue still buried in my ass. I felt Bee moving, then lips pressed to my clit. Urgent sucks and licks — she knew I hadn’t come.

Maria’s tongue resumed its fuck. Bee’s lips worked harder, then curled fingers searched my pussy. The shouting — “Yes, there!” — was my own, and then I was coming.

We lay there, the three of us, completely spent. I marvelled at how many times I had come in just one day. It seemed almost impossible.

Later, we sat, still naked, around a campfire, as the sunset in a golden halo over the sea. Nothing but the crackle and sparks of our fire mixed with the whisper of the waves on the sand. We each had a bottle of Bud, which we slowly sipped.

Bee pointed along the beach. “Maria,” she said. I saw the twinkle of lights from the verandah of a villa further along the beach.

Maria climbed to her feet. “See you guys, maybe tomorrow.”

I gave Bee a puzzled look. She grinned and told me, “She’s hoping it’s Jenny. If it is, she won’t be back. Just you and me, lover. Do you mind?”

My heart skipped. Yes, of course, I liked Maria, but to be alone again with my Bee … “Is it okay if I say I like it better this way?”

She smiled her beautiful smile. “Another marshmallow?”

The End

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

Had it all been a dream?

I know — it’s a cliché and a copout, but it really was the first thing on my mind when I woke up. In the bright morning, my memory of the girls’ lovemaking seemed unreal and, frankly, impossible. And it had been lovemaking, not some game of I’ll-show-you-mine-if-you-show-me-yours. Those two were mad for each other, and if what I saw happen happened, telling them to cool it wouldn’t accomplish a thing.

But first, I had to pee. I got up and looked around for some evidence of last night’s apparition. I was still naked from the waist down, and my pussy was quite fragrant, so that checked out, though I could have stripped and masturbated in my sleep. (It’s happened before.) More telling was the bedroom door: it was shut all the way, and I remembered having closed it after spying on the girls.

My pajama bottoms were missing, likely tangled in the sheets. I wasn’t about to risk being seen with my sandy delta on display a second time, so I shed my top, pulled my briefest robe from the closet, and sidled over to the bathroom.

Pissing took the pressure off in more ways than one. Empty bladder, light heart, I guess. So the kids had sex. So what? The world hadn’t come to an end. Or was I just in denial, afraid to think about the talk I knew was coming? I took my time washing up, scrubbing my face and hands with rose-scented soap before tightening my robe and opening the door onto this new world of preadolescent lesbian love.

I prayed I would find the girls as they had been when I’d kissed them goodnight — in their nighties, lying chastely side by side. No such luck. They were spooning, Billie behind, holding Kimberly close, like a stuffed bunny, and nuzzling her hair. They had pulled the sheets up during the night, but their shoulders were bare, and I could only assume the rest of them was, too.

I had to stop and admire the scene before I intruded. Sweet is the only word for it. It had been years since I’d spent the night with a lover, warm and naked, our bodies pressed together as we slept. I knew how Billie and Kimberly must have felt, and I also knew if Kimberly’s mother ever found out about what I’d allowed to happen, she’d have me up on trafficking charges.

Even so, I couldn’t help smiling. And Kimberly’s mom wasn’t due to pick her up till eleven. So there was time for a bit of fun.

Taking the sheet and blanket in hand, I walked briskly along the bed, peeling them back like the foil on a cup of yogurt.

“Good morning, ladies!” I said. “Rise and shine!”

If they weren’t awake when I came in, they were now. And yes, they were naked. I didn’t mention it, though. Each of them was free to assess her predicament and react in her own way.

Kimberly flew into an adorable panic. She flopped onto her belly, hanging half off the bed, and groped at the floor for her gown. The search gave me a good long look at her elfin behind. I also noticed, as her feet waved in the air, she was wearing a thin silver anklet, which gave me as much of a tingle as her pocket-sized tush. Any girl who cares enough to adorn her feet has to be aware of how pretty she is.

The green gown was nowhere to be found. I knew where it was, and I wasn’t telling. It had come off the bed with the covers and was buried beneath them on the floor behind me. Kimberly finally realized the quest was hopeless. She sat up, hugged a pillow to her bare chest, and scooted off to the bathroom.

Billie, on the other hand, wasn’t at all self-conscious about being caught nude. Living in close quarters, we’d accepted long ago that modesty was a luxury we couldn’t afford. She was so used to being naked in front of Mom, in fact, that it never occurred to her that Mom might wonder how she and her little friend came to be naked in the first place. All she did was stretch like a baby, fists balled up beside her ears, toes pointed, and legs open enough to show me the pink cranny between. It looked awfully tight and fresh for the workout it had received.

“Sleep well, honey?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm,” she said, and she rubbed her eyes. She had the silliest grin on her face, and why not? She was getting more action than I was.

“Come on,” I said. “Time to get up.”

“Aw, why?” she said.

The toilet flushed, and Kimberly came back from the bathroom wrapped in one of our towels, still holding the pillow in front. Billie was on her way out, and as they crossed paths behind the sofa, she wrestled the towel and the pillow away. Poor Kimberly yelped and dropped to the floor. Billie, laughing, joined her there, and they were out of my sight for an uncomfortably long time.

Silence at first, then a few giggles, then a decidedly suggestive mmm from Billie.

“Come on, you two,” I said. “Cut the comedy.”

That’s something Mother always said. I found myself thinking a lot about her this morning, imagining how she would botch a situation like this and vowing not to repeat her mistakes. Echoing her didn’t seem like a very good start.

Billie popped up and marched off to pee, taking the towel and the pillow with her. It was her playful way of putting her girlfriend on the spot, but I must say Kimberly was up to the challenge. She stayed hidden awhile, as if considering her options before catching on that no form of protection would be forthcoming. At that point she emerged from behind the bed, one arm across her chest and one hand over the nothing between her legs.

I picked up her overnight bag, which we’d stashed in the corner, and placed it on the bed.

“Here you go, dear,” I said.

I made a show of looking her directly in the face. Not a word about her being naked. I wanted her to understand she needn’t be embarrassed. I think she got it, because she took her time rooting through the bag. She seemed to be making up her mind about what to wear, though she couldn’t have brought too many choices with her. Maybe she was trying to be more uninhibited, like Billie. Or maybe she wasn’t all that shy to begin with. Whatever the reason for the delay, she settled, finally, on a white jersey with green sleeves — green seemed to be her color — that covered her bottom without the need for panties.

Billie chose to stay naked, to show Kimberly it was no big deal, I guess. Together, they helped me fold the couch, straighten the living room, and make my own bed. Billie brushed Kimberly’s hair, tossing aside the headband she’d worn all night, while I went off to the kitchen. Then the three of us sat down to breakfast.

The girls ate like longshoremen. Billie was on her third bowl of instant oatmeal and Kimberly her second blueberry muffin when I dropped the hammer.

“Nice to have an appetite, huh, chicka?” I said.

“I’m starved,” Billie said.

“How about you?” I asked Kimberly.

“Mm-hm,” was all she could say with her mouth full.

“I’m not surprised,” I said. “You two went at it pretty hard last night.”

The chewing stopped. The little delinquents looked at one another sideways with that wide-eyed, tight-lipped expression kids get when they know they’ve been nailed.

“We need to talk about this,” I went on. “I’m not angry, and it wasn’t really wrong, not exactly, but you’re both so young, and you understand, you need to understand, that what you did, what I heard you do, overheard you do, when anybody does that, even grownups, well, it’s only supposed to be grownups, and they — we — know there’s a lot more to it than just feeling good—”

I was immediately lost in a maze of my own devising. I wasn’t making sense, I had no idea what to say next, and for a responsible parent beginning a frank talk about the joys and dangers of sex, I hadn’t even uttered the word.

So I was as relieved as they were when a knock at the front door cut my rambling short.

“If that’s your mom, she’s early,” I told Kimberly. “Billie, put something on.”

And Billie, like every eleven-year-old who’s given a direct order, didn’t budge.

I went to the door in my flirty robe. Through the peephole, I saw what appeared to be a young girl in a red turtleneck, jeans, and a part-colored, crocheted vest. She stood with her back to me, looking toward the courtyard, but she was quite small and seemed harmless enough. I opened the door.

“Yes?” I said.

She turned around, and she wasn’t a girl. She looked almost forty, with deep-set eyes and lines around her broad mouth, but she was a slip of a thing, slender as a gymnast and a head shorter than me. She looked me over, starting with my bare legs and stopping at my tits, which were packed tight inside my robe.

“May I help you?” I prodded her.

“I’m Kimberly’s mother.”

“Liz?” I said. We had spoken on the phone when we arranged the sleepover, but we hadn’t met. “You’re early. Come in. I’m sorry. Brain freeze. I was expecting —”

“You were expecting someone more imposing.”

“I guess.”

“Everyone’s always surprised I’m not a three-hundred-pound diva,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “We haven’t dressed yet—”

And some of us were less dressed than others. I glowered at Billie over my shoulder. We both saw the problem: there was no way for her to run to the bedroom for some clothes without flashing her heinie for our guest. All she could do was leap into the kitchen the instant before Liz and I came in from the entryway.

“Don’t let me disturb your morning,” Liz said. “I’ll collect my charge and be on my way. Hello, Kimberly.”

“Hi, Mom.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“It was okay,” Kimberly said.

“Okay,” Liz repeated. “Your daughter is all she talks about.”

“She talks?” I asked.

“She’s shy with new people, but at home, she’s quite the chatterbox. Aren’t you, honey?”

“I guess,” Kimberly said.

I got the feeling Liz’s definition of “chatterbox” differed from my own to a large degree.

“Speaking of your daughter, I’d like to meet her,” Liz said.

“Oh, she’s around. Billie?” I called.

“In the kitchen, Mom.”

“Take your time,” I said, and I meant it. To Liz, I said, “Would you like something to eat? There’s plenty. The girls were pretty hungry.”

“I’ve eaten, thank you.”

“Coffee, then? You’re not in any hurry, are you? Our daughters have become BFFs. We should get acquainted.”

“Would you like to stay awhile longer, Kimberly?”

“Yes, please,” the girl said.

“Coffee would be fine, then,” Liz said.

I got my cup and sat on the sofa, very much aware of how much leg I was showing. And if the bottom of my robe parted at all, I’d be showing quite a bit more. I held the corners together with my free hand.

Liz seemed to sense my discomfort. She stole a glance at my crotch as she sat down beside me. The sofa-bed is only a two-seater. It turns strangers into friends very quickly.

“Billie,” I called, “would you be a good girl and bring our guest some coffee, please? There’s some left in the press.”

“Okay!”

I would have been amused, if it hadn’t been so awkward. How would Liz react to being served by a naked little girl? And how bold would Billie be in front of a stranger — especially one on whom she needed to make a good impression?

But my daughter, ever resourceful, made her entrance without a trace of embarrassment. She was wearing my full-length red apron. I wanted to applaud.

Billie set the cup down on the coffee table, bending low, but careful to face Liz head on. Kimberly, though, had the full view from the table. She got the same look she had when I tried to start my sex talk — like her world was about to implode at any second.

“It’s nice to meet you at last,” Liz said, offering her hand.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Billie replied. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

“Knowing Kimberly has improved her manners,” I said.

“Is there any cream?” Liz asked.

“Of course,” I said. “Billie, I left the half-and-half on the counter. Would you be so kind?”

If Liz thought there was anything strange in my daughter’s backing out of the room, she was too polite to mention it.

Billie returned in a moment, still rigidly facing front, and placed the carton on the coffee table. She also brought a teaspoon, which I thought showed real presence of mind under the circumstances.

“Thank you, dear,” Liz said.

As she poured and stirred, she examined my daughter closely, as if trying to figure out what it was about her that wasn’t quite right. Billie was barefoot, bare-legged, and bare-shouldered, but completely at ease. She was also bare-assed, though that wouldn’t become fully apparent for another few minutes.

“Honey,” I said, “why don’t you go in and change?”

“That’s okay,” she said, and she sat crossed-legged in front of the coffee table, all set to join the adults in conversation, with the apron draped discreetly over her crotch.

“Are you sure?” I said.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

The little pisser had me, and she knew it. I could hardly say, in front of company, You’re not fine. You’re stark naked. Go put some damned clothes on.

Billie glanced back at Kimberly, who brought her orange juice over and plunked herself down. She sat on her heels, which hid her pussy well enough, but pulled the hem of the jersey above her bare behind. Fortunately, that particular attraction was pointed away from us, and I didn’t think Liz could quite see over the table from our side of the sofa.

“Well, this is cozy,” Liz said.

Sure. Just four hens at a morning coffee klatch. The fact that three of us were naked to varying degrees didn’t seem to be an issue.

The girls leaned into each other, the way they’d been doing since Kimberly’s arrival, and while Liz held forth on singing and her travels and her ex, they took turns sipping Kimberly’s juice. Billie, on the left, drank with her right hand. Kimberly, on the right, drank with her left. Their other hands, out of sight, stroked each other’s backs and shoulders.

“There’s the stereotype of the fat opera singer,” Liz was saying. “But weight has nothing to do with the power of your voice.”

“No?” I asked.

“Not at all. It’s just baggage. What about weight would add strength to a voice?”

“I wouldn’t know,” I said.

She rolled the cup in her hands, swirling the coffee. And she didn’t seem to see Billie’s hand creeping down her daughter’s back. I gave Billie another look, and the arm came up, only to drop even lower a moment later. She found the curve of Kimberly’s bottom and continued around. At the same time, her apron slackened as Kimberly tugged the string in back.

I thought I could see Billie’s nipples poking through the apron, but that could have been my imagination. What wasn’t imaginary was my own nipples standing up under my robe, which was not only short, but thin. I held the cup to my lips, clamping my forearms over my breasts.

I should have expected this after last night. The girls had behaved themselves over breakfast, content with a little footsie under the table, but now that their bellies were full, they couldn’t keep their hands off each other.

Kimberly laid her head on Billie’s shoulder. Her beautiful lips were parted in the laziest, most sensuous way, and she was breathing through them. There was no doubt where Billie’s hidden hand was, or what it was doing.

At last, Liz stopped talking about herself and took some notice of what was going on.

“Looks like Kimberly’s got a new favorite toy,” she said, more to her daughter than to me.

“I never thought of Billie as a toy,” I said.

“She is,” Liz said. “Kimberly is her toy, too. They’re kids.”

Kimberly seemed to take that as permission to play. She kissed Billie on the cheek — a lingering kiss, with her eyes closed — and slipped a hand under the apron in front. The red drape, now held in place only by the strap around Billie’s neck, was nudged aside, and I glimpsed Billie’s bare chest as Kimberly’s fingers glided across it.

Kimberly raised her head, Billie lowered hers, and their lips touched. It was no more than a peck, but it expressed more than any pillow talk I’d ever been a party to. They drew back, processing the experience, decided they liked it, and pecked again.

They quickly discovered they didn’t have to break off every time. On the third try, the kiss went on — lightly, to be sure, but indulgent.  The next movement, unfolding in slow motion, was Kimberly’s: she laid a hand directly over Billie’s left nipple. The apron wasn’t hiding much at this point, and when Billie’s tongue rolled into Kimberly’s mouth, I banged down my cup.

“Girls,” I said. “Come on. Fun’s fun.”

“Fun’s fun?” Liz asked.

“For some reason, I’m channeling my mother this morning,” I said.

“I get that,” she said. “My ex used to say that we fall back on the familiar to deal with the unfamiliar. He was talking about modern music, but still.”

“You’re familiar with this?”

“Kimberly’s always been curious,” she said. “Touching herself — and other kids. I caught her once with our neighbor’s five-year-old boy.”

“She seems so shy.”

“She is,” Liz said. “But she’s also very sexual.”

“At her age?”

“At their age,” she said, and she extended her cup toward the floor show.

The apron had become a hindrance. Billie tossed it off over her head and let Kimberly go on squeezing her chest. Was my daughter growing boobs? Those looked like the beginning of fatty pads under the soft pink dots, or maybe the light from the balcony was casting deceptive shadows.

Billie ran a hand up under the jersey and pressed her face into Kimberly’s neck, which gave the little girl a noticeable surge of pleasure.

“Oh!” she squeaked.

I thought she was going to faint. The strength drained from her face, and she melted onto the floor, dragging Billie down with her. The jersey rode up, of course. Kimberly’s lack of underwear was now public knowledge. Liz showed no surprise. Her daughter’s baby pussy, really nothing more than a tight pink seam, was just one detail in the game playing out before our eyes. More arresting was the way the girls kept on making out — mothers be damned. If we wanted to watch, that was fine with them, apparently. For all they cared, our presence made no difference one way or the other.

“No sense trying to stop them,” Liz said.

“Really, you think this is okay?”

“The question is, why don’t you?” she said. “Two little girls making each other feel good, where’s the harm? If there’s a problem here, it might be yours. Is there any more coffee?”

“I was thinking I could use some wine,” I said.

“Not a bad idea.”

I stepped over the girls on my way to the kitchen. When I returned with the bottle and glasses, Kimberly was lingually reaming my daughter’s ear. The effect was visible down to Billie’s toes, which were flexing and wriggling and spreading stiffly apart.

“Don’t mind me, ladies,” I said, stepping over them once again.

Of course, they didn’t mind me. I didn’t exist. I sat and poured Liz and myself each a generous portion of pinot.

“I can’t get over how beautiful Kimberly’s face is,” I said, even though what was holding my attention at the moment was her naked lower half. “I can see where she gets it.”

“Thank you,” Liz said. “Your daughter has the cutest bottom. I can see where she gets that.”

“Is it showing?”

“The robe’s kind of snug in back. Don’t be embarrassed. I enjoyed watching you walk.”

Once the ear-licking had reduced Billie to a compliant mass of gelatin, Kimberly told her, for all to hear, “You can put your mouth on it.”

“Can I?” Billie said.

“Yeah, do it,” Kimberly said.

Billie had no choice but to obey — not that there was any doubt she wanted to. Sitting up, rolling forward, she raised the hem of Kimberly’s jersey, exposing her tummy. For a moment she gazed at the hairless shadow-line, as though trying to make up her mind how to approach it. Then, with a sudden resolve, she opened her mouth wide, and Kimberly got her wish. “Oh!” she squeaked again. She raised her foot — the one with the sparkling silver anklet — as the wheat-blond crown of Billie’s head dipped toward the floor.

“That takes me back,” Liz said. “I haven’t eaten pussy since I was a girl at music camp.”

“Lost your taste for it?” I said.

“It was a lot of experimenting. I’d need to revisit.”

“Well,” I said, “we may have some left over you can have.”

I sank back into the corner of the sofa, raising my glass toward the girls in salute, and with a single motion I thought was pretty graceful, given that the wine was going to my head, I drew a knee up to the cushion and undid the bow at my waist.

Liz took a sip of wine and looked me over. She seemed both amused and appreciative. My cunt was aching to be touched, but she wasn’t making any moves just yet. I couldn’t stand to wait, and if she wouldn’t pleasure me, I would pleasure myself. That brought a sly smile to her lips.

The air of wry detachment was infuriating — and an immense turn-on. I had never masturbated in front of anyone, and Liz’s gaze was palpable, like two extra fingers pressing on my clit. I liked showing off.

“So I guess watching the girls make out isn’t a problem for you,” she said.

“Oh, don’t be so superior.”

“You have beautiful tits,” she said, and took another sip of wine. “I’m jealous.”

“What have you got to be jealous about?” I said. “You get to suck on them. I don’t.”

She set down her glass. “Are you asking?”

“Please.”

“The girls will see.”

“Let them,” I decided.

Liz cupped my breasts at the sides, wobbling them, puffing them up, playing with them like a little girl wondering if her tits will ever be as big as Mommy’s. I slid her vest off her shoulders and began pulling at her top as her head came down. Her tongue circled my left nipple, then her lips closed around it. She suckled with abandon, pressing her nose into the flesh and inhaling deeply, relishing the warm scent. It took me back to when I was breastfeeding Billie, except now, I wasn’t disturbed by the sexual feelings it aroused.

“That’s so nice,” I said. Her fingers found my pussy, moving my own aside. I was well-oiled and pliable, and she pushed comfortably through the softened lips. That old, delicious tightness, familiar but too long absent, began to bind me up. The warmth of the wine and the heat from my cunt mingled in my veins. She fucked me expertly, her thumb mashing my swollen clit, while her mouth moved from one breast to the other, and back. I clutched her hair, pressing her face to my bosom.

I wasn’t thinking clearly, but one question that came to me was, between me and little Kimberly, who was more turned on? This was answered almost at once by a soft cry from the floor. I glanced over. Little Kimmie was staring up at me with an unmistakable O-face — wide-eyed, fish-lipped, with a strong suggestion of surprise.

“Billie!” she gasped. “I love you!”

“Fuck!” I said.

“Are you teaching my daughter bad language?” Liz teased.

“I’m gonna come,” I said.

It had been years for Liz, and Billie was new to it, but by memory or instinct, they were both exquisite pussy-lovers. Each knew where her own pleasure was centered, and they knew where to find it in me and in Kimberly. Where to cause it in us. Of course, it helped that Kimmie and I were both ravenously horny.

Each of us saw her own pleasure reflected in the face of the other. I felt her pleasure, and I swear she felt mine. We were breathing in unison, linked body and mind by a simultaneous climax.

Kimberly pinched her own chest through her jersey. She had no tits to hold, but her nipples were erect, and twisting them kept her rolling on the crest of the wave. Billie’s head bobbed between her legs. Liz fucked me hard with four fingers. She kissed my tits, my neck, my face. Kimberly and I were at their mercy, unable to move or think, but surrender is a liberating experience.

“Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please don’t fucking stop!”

It made me feel like a mentor when Kimberly repeated my words — except she surpassed me, because she wasn’t begging.

“Don’t fucking stop,” she commanded Billie. “Don’t you fucking stop!”

The words tore away her last shred of innocence, and I watched the orgasm convulse her childish body. Mine followed in an instant.

Kimberly gazed at me in wild-eyed disbelief, unable to fathom how one bitty spot could hold such enormous power. I managed a half-smile, as if to say, It’s all right baby, let it happen. It was all the encouragement she needed. She gave herself over to the wonder of it, and we each let out a wail that signaled our second climax.

Liz said later we’d been harmonizing in perfect fifths.

It felt like forever before we recovered. Kimberly and I floated on warm waves of contentment while Billie and Liz exchanged smug, self-congratulatory looks.

“Proud of yourselves?” I said.

“I think we’re entitled,” Liz said.

“Oh, I’m an easy lay,” I said.

“So I see.”

Yet the party wasn’t over. Billie and Kim were in each other’s arms again, kissing with roving lips and eager tongues.

“I love you, too,” Billie was saying. “I love you so much.” And they were off again like animals — insatiable, inexhaustible animals. I was dying to see where their sense of discovery and their lack of inhibition would lead them next.

And to be honest, I was jealous. I’d just had a flabbergasting come, and Liz was willing enough, but we’d only just met, and there was no question of the kind of love our daughters had — that sweet, first-time girl-crush that makes you feel the sky is twirling overhead. Maybe love would come, but there was no way to know. For now, there was nothing to do but fuck.

“One of these things is not like the others,” I said.

“Meaning—?” Liz said.

“You’ve still got your clothes on.”

She leaned back with an inviting smirk.  I slid off the sofa, kneeling in front of her, and pulled off her shoes and socks. And hey, she had a tattoo — a crescent tattoo on her right instep, with a star and three musical notes. It was a surprisingly sexy touch, like Kimberly’s anklet. I couldn’t resist kissing it.

“Queen of the Night,” Liz said.

She lifted her butt and pushed her jeans and panties down. I was greeted at once by the thick smell of cunt. She was slick and warm and ready, and she responded to my touch with her entire body, going slack all over, as though the air was leaking out of her. I pulled her jeans the rest of the way off, and the panties with them.

The hair around her cunt was full, but trimmed at the edges. The flesh inside was grayish-pink, and the scent grew stronger as I approached. For a moment I was at a loss. Did I even remember how to do this? But then my lips touched the steaming mud puddle, and my long-neglected skills kicked in. Liz shoved her crotch into my face.

“Oh, that’s it,” she breathed.

There was really nothing there I could make out, nothing I could  feel with my tongue. A cunt, after all, is just a shapeless recess with a tiny pip hiding somewhere under the petals, but I found it, and I brought it to life, with Liz’s sighs as my guide. She turns inward when she comes, like her daughter. For an opera singer, there’s not a lot of vocalizing. Not so much as a trill. But her orgasm was real, and deep, and she gave me every encouragement as I lapped at her clit.

“Fuck it, girl,” she said, quietly, and that was all.

I expected her to be gazing down at me with endless affection, or at least a bit of gratitude, but she was looking past me, over my head, at whatever the kids were up to. It was obvious watching them got her off every bit as much as my superlative tongue-fucking. She raised her head a notch, as if to say, see for yourself. 

So I twisted around, my butt thumping between her feet, and, using her thighs for armrests, took a front-row seat for the next spot on the program: Bronco Bustin’ Billie, ridin’ cowgirl on Kimberly’s face. I saw the underside of Kimmie’s chin, at the end of her extended throat, wedged in my daughter’s snatch, which sawed back and forth in short snaps. With every forward thrust, Billie’s clitty flashed at the tip of Kimmie’s tongue.

There’s something about looking into your daughter’s eyes when she orgasms. You feel plugged into every generation of women before you. And I nearly came again myself. It turns out that when she doesn’t have to be quiet, as she had during the night, Billie’s a real squealer. Each cry was louder, longer and higher than the one before it — Ah!  Ahhh!  Ahhhhhh!

“Oh, darling,” I said to myself. “My little girl…”

She gave her last rebel yell, pitched forward, and rolled over on the floor. Kimberly gasped for air. Her face was shiny with sweat, spit, and pussy juice, but the real glow was underneath, in her expression. Call it rapture. She squeezed Billie’s hand, and that was the only movement from either of them. They lay still, head to toe, happily wiped out.

“That ought to hold them for a while,” Liz said.

“I doubt it,” I said.

“How about you?”

“I’m still horny.”

She ruffled my hair from above. “We could take this to the bedroom.”

“I was going to suggest that.”

We headed off, leaving the girls to their exhaustion. I can remember how the air felt, filling my robe as I led Liz by the hand. She stripped off her top and bra matter-of-factly and lay on the bed. I had to admire her body a moment before I joined her. Her tits were small and flattish with age, but the nipples stood up like dark drinking straws, ready for sucking. I shrugged out of my robe and crawled over to her, and we shared a soulful kiss, breasts together, arms tightening, thighs pushing into crotches.

It was heaven, but it couldn’t last, because, as I’d predicted, the girls recovered quickly. I heard titters and the pounding of feet from the other room, then suddenly the bed was shaking, and they were on us like puppies.

“Whatcha doin’?” Billie said, like she didn’t know.

“We were having a nice time,” I said. “Give us some privacy.”

“They let us watch,” Liz said.

“That’s on them,” I said.

The kids had the nerve to start a tickle fight with us, but of course they didn’t stand a chance. We threw them on their backs and showed no mercy until Billie swore she was going to pee. It was all innocent fun — just four chicks at a sleepover, playing and showing off for each other. But when the laughing stopped, Liz was still there, still willing, and I was hotter than ever. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to finger her pussy. I wanted to feel her come as her tongue filled my mouth.

But it couldn’t happen that way, not with the girls on board. Kimberly crawled up my back, peering at her mother over my shoulder. Billie snuggled against Liz’s side, fascinated by her little tits, squeezing and stroking them, and probably fantasizing how Kimberly would look in a year or two.

I slid two fingers into Liz’s cunt. She closed her eyes and pursed her lips for a kiss, but my daughter got there first. They traded tongues. Did Liz know it was Billie and not me?

“Hey!” I said, but they didn’t stop.

Kimberly’s hand slid down my ass and dug between my legs. She fingered me the way she’d seen me finger her mom — not as hard, or as deep, but the point was made. I kissed her lightly over my shoulder. She pushed forward, offering her tongue, but only ended up tumbling onto her mother.

Billie yelped, Liz went oof!, and we all laughed again. That should have ruined the mood, but it only put the devil into us. We fell over each other in a tangle, kissing at random, our mouths moving from one body to the next. I ate up Kimberly’s toes (at last!), and they were every bit as delectable as I’d imagined. Liz planted a loud smack on Billie’s behind. Somebody’s tongue went up my ass, and everyone wanted a turn sucking my tits.

It was when Kimberly’s mouth found my cunt that things got serious. Billie had ended up lying with her head toward the foot of the bed and her pussy an inch from my nose, smooth as porcelain and too appetizing to pass up. Just a nibble, I thought, but the nibble grew into a snack, and the snack grew into a feast. I became the filling in an oral sandwich, with a child at each end.

“Oh, let me in on that,” Liz said.

She pushed herself between the girls, and after a few seconds of scooching and bouncing and honey-move-your-butts, we were locked in an incestuous rectangle with the girls as the short sides. Each mother ate out her daughter. Each daughter ate out her best friend’s mom.

The room was filled with the soft sound of lapping tongues and the head-spinning smell of girl-sex. We were in no hurry, either. We didn’t have to prove ourselves like men. We licked and sucked for the pleasure of each moment, with no thought of what it meant or where it was going, which made it so much sweeter when it finally happened, for all of us, all at once.

It started with Kimberly, who moaned into my pussy. The buzzing set me off. I tongue-whipped Billie’s clit. She, in turn, gave one of her patented squeals, muffled by Liz’s cunt. Then Liz took up the chorus, and the circle was complete. It was one long rolling orgasm — Kimmie to me to Billie to Liz to Kimmie to me. My body rattled each time the wave passed through it. My tits shook so hard I thought they would burst. I kept thinking, if it doesn’t stop I’ll lose my mind. But who wants to be sane?

“Oh, my!” someone said. It was Liz, telling us she was finished. Billie relaxed, too. I gave her pussy one last smack. Then I felt a draft on my wet cunt, and I knew Kimmie had pulled away. The four of us lay in a broken circle, breathless, each with her head on her neighbor’s leg.

“It’s so strange,” I said. “It’s like we were all … in sync.”

“It was wonderful,” Liz said.

“Are you girls okay?” I asked.

“Uh,” Billie said.

“What about you, angel?” Liz asked Kimberly.

“Hm,” Kimberly said.

“They approve,” Liz said.

It was only then that I realized the enormity of what had happened.

“Oh, God,” I said, my hands over my face. “What did we just do?”

“It’s all right, darling,” Liz said. “There’s no harm.”

“Don’t cry, Mom,” Billie said. “Please?”

“I’m not, sweetheart. I’m not. But you think we could do something wholesome this afternoon? Maybe a picnic?”

“Why?” Liz said. “We’d only have to put our clothes back on.”

That was my last scruple. I’d found my libido, thanks to those little exhibitionists, and I wasn’t about to lose it again.

“Do you have anyplace to be?” I asked Liz.

“I’m free all day,” she said.

“Then why don’t you come over here?”

It was the kids’ turn to watch. They still needed to learn about tribbing.

The End

Go here for a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” To get a thumbnail summary of the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

I was awakened by someone moving around on the bed. When I squinted through blurry eyes, Lottie had gotten up – off to the bathroom, most likely. I was still snuggled up to Nicole.

“Mmmm, that was a lovely nap,” I sighed, trailing off onto a yawn. “How long was I asleep?”

Nicole’s fingers brushed my cheek. “Not long, only about twenty minutes.”

“Gosh, it always feels longer.”

“I know what you mean. Time does funny things when you are in the throes of passion.”

I looked around for a clock. “What time is it, anyway?”

“Nearly seven.”

“I’m feeling hungry,” I said, sitting up and stretching.

“Me too,” said Lottie, returning from the bathroom.

I climbed out of bed. “Come on, then… let’s see if anyone else is ready to eat!”

The others were way ahead of us. Kiki and Mum were in the kitchen, Henri, Mia, Emma and Beth were at the dining table, Lilly and Evie were cuddling by the fire. Everyone was naked, or nearly so.

When we went into the kitchen, Mum smiled and gave me a warm hug. “How’s my baby girl? Did you have fun?”

“Loads of fun! Nicole and Lottie are brilliant, and fucking them was awesome.”

“High praise indeed, coming from our young prodigy. I’d like to experience this awesome fucking myself, and soon,” said Kiki. I love her direct approach, spoken in that soft, posh accent as if she could get away with saying anything. It’s awesome to hear Kiki swear, too; she uses rude words with such class.

“That’s easily arranged,” Nicole said, gently touching Kiki’s arm. “Perhaps after we’ve eaten, we can… get together?”

“With Henri, too!” exclaimed Lottie, grinning at Kiki’s daughter, who blushed quite charmingly. “I’ve been wanting to do sex with her for… for ages!”

“I’d like that,” Henri replied. “And I’ve been crushing on you, too, something fierce.”

It’s a lovely plan, my darlings,” said Kiki. “Now, let’s get ourselves fed, then I can have my wicked way with you. I was going to do a sit-down dinner for everyone, but the kids were hungry so I’ve done them nuggets and chips. It seemed best to just lay out an impromptu buffet, then we can all just pick at it as and when we like.” With everyone likely to be disappearing here and there in random groups and pairs to fuck, this made perfect sense to me.

Kiki’s last-minute buffet was incredible. There were lots of fancy cheeses, sliced meats and fresh bread hot from the oven. She’d also made a huge tossed salad, along with cold chicken, prawns and the nuggets and chips that she’d already mentioned.

I got myself a plate and loaded it up, then joined the others at the table. Mum came over and sat with us, while Lottie and Nicole ate in the kitchen and chatted with Kiki while she fussed over the food. Not long after I sat down Evie and Lilly finished and ran off giggling, hand in hand. That left Mum, Mia and me at the table.

I looked from one to the other. “So come on then… how’d you two get on? I’m dying to know.”

Mia broke into a huge grin. “You were right, Poppy… your Mum is a great lover.”

“I can see why you keep this one all to yourself,” Mum told me, briefly touching her lips to Mia’s hand. “Such a sexy little minx! I already want to be with her again.”

“Me too,” chuckled a bashful Mia. They shared an adoring glance then came together in a tender kiss. I was delighted to see they’d got on so well, and was imagining what it would be like to share a bed with them both. How could that be anything but delightful?

“How about you?” Mia asked. “What was it like with Mum and Lottie?”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh my God… it was soooo good.”

Unable and unwilling to contain my excitement, I told them all about what happened with Nicole and Lottie and how mind-blowing it was. Then we swapped stories of what we’d been up to since then.

Mia had been busy, to say the least. After spending quite a long time with my mum she had a threesome with Henri and Kiki, and then had sex with Beth on the rug while some of the others watched. While she was resting, Mum got into a wild little orgy with Emma, Beth and Nicole. I wasn’t surprised to hear that Mum went straight from there to a one to one session with sexy seven-year-old Evie, spreading the girl out in front of the fireplace and going down on her for everyone to see. Mum’s face lit up like the North Star when she described it to us. No question, she was smitten with that little girl.

After everyone had eaten or at least nibbled on something, we gathered in the living area around the fire. In addition to the two large sofas, there were plenty of bean bags and large cushions on the floor. I was sitting between Mum and Kiki on one sofa with Henri sort of lying at our feet. Nicole, Lottie and Emma were on the other sofa, Beth and Mia were on bean bags and Evie and Lilly were lying on two cushions on the floor.

There was lots of chatter about the wonderful day we’d all had so far – especially from the Buckly and Cornish families, since it was their first time at Kiki’s. Beth was quite chatty, and it felt especially nice to see her opening up. She was usually quite shy and hardly spoke while at school, but now she was happily nattering away with everyone. I suppose fucking a bunch of women and girls you’ve only just met will tend to bring you out of your shell a bit.

I was listening to Kiki talking about a restaurant in Paris, and got distracted when I heard Lilly say, “What, now? Hee hee, okay!”

I looked over my shoulder in time to see Evie stretch out on her back. Lilly got on top of her and they arranged themselves in a sixty-nine, licking each other in front of everyone.

“My word, those two are sexy little minxes, aren’t they?” sighed Emma. She was in a position to know, having enjoyed some quality time with the both of them earlier.

“Aren’t they just,” answered Kiki, opening her legs as she began to masturbate.

Soon everyone else was touching their pussy while they watched the little ones make love on the plush carpet. I had one leg hooked over Mum’s and the other over Kiki’s as I rubbed myself. Honestly, masturbating along with everyone else turned me on every bit as much as the sight of Evie and my baby sister licking each other’s pussies.

Kiki and Mum both came quickly, but I wanted to save my orgasm for a bit. so I fingered my slit very gently while I watched the others. Beth got off next, followed by Mia, then both Evie and Lilly came in each other’s mouths. When they sat up and came together in a passionate kiss, everyone cheered and applauded.

“What a wonderful show! Thank you, girls,” said Kiki.

Lilly got to her feet. “Um, Kiki… I need to go to the toilet. D’you want to come with me again?”

“Yes, please,” Kiki said. She took my sister by the hand and they left the room, all smiles.

I was pretty sure that at some point in the afternoon, Kiki had played with Lilly while she peed. And since Lilly had just invited her along to the toilet again, she must have enjoyed it.

I leaned in and whispered to Mum, “Kiki touched my pussy in the loo while I was peeing.”

Mum said, “I know, sweetie. She checked with me first to make sure it was okay. Did you enjoy it?”

“It was fun. I mean, it wasn’t enough to make me come or anything, but Kiki looked like she enjoyed it.”

That made her laugh. “Kiki enjoyed it a lot more than she let on, believe you me. Watersports aren’t really my thing or Henri’s, but when Kiki’s in the mood we’ll usually indulge her… because she enjoys it, also because we love her so much.”

“Does she only play with you on the toilet? Or do you do other stuff, too?”

“Kiki does love to touch us, yes… but what she really likes is when we pee on her.”

“What? How? I mean, doesn’t the bed get all messed up?” I had so many questions I didn’t know where to start.

Mum giggled. “No, silly, we use the bathroom. Kiki lies down in the tub or kneels on the tiles, then Henri and I stand above her and we just… let it go.”

“Um… which part of her do you pee on?”

“All over, but she especially likes it on her face and in her mouth.”

I was shocked… yet also intrigued. Once again, I realised how much I still had to learn about being a lesbian. “That’s so mad. Maybe I’ll try it sometime.”

“She’ll be pleased to hear that.”

“Does Kiki come when you wee on her?”

“Sometimes she brings herself off with this waterproof vibrator,” Mum said, “but for her, watersports isn’t just about having orgasms, it’s something she genuinely enjoys.”

I sort of knew about vibrators; what they were and how you used one, but I’d never heard Mum mention anything about them before. “Er, Mum… do you ever use a vibrator?”

“I certainly do. I’ve used other kinds of sex toys, too. You know, I’m a bit surprised that you’ve not asked me about that kind of thing before.”

“Wait, wait – you have sex toys of your own?”

“Of course.”

“Why do I not know about this? Is it a secret?”

Mum took my hand, gave it a squeeze. “It’s not a secret, sweetheart, but I’ve deliberately held off introducing them to you and your sister for the moment. Poppy, there are lots of sexual things you and Lilly have yet to experience. I’ll discuss them with you girls when I think you’re ready, or when you express an interest. Like I did when we introduced you to the pleasures of exhibitionism. It was something you discovered on your own, so I was happy to help you explore it.”

“Can you help me explore sex toys, then? Um, I’m expressing an interest right now!”

“If you want to, sweetie, then yes… but let’s save that for another day, okay?”

“Okay, then.” I gave her a tender kiss and said, “Love ya, Mum.”

“I love you too, sweetie. Oh, and just to give you a heads-up, Kiki will probably ask you to pee on her sometime. You don’t have to if you’d rather not. She won’t be disappointed if you say no.”

“She’d be very disappointed if I said no, I bet. But if she asks me, I’ll try it. I mean, peeing on Kiki’s tits has got to be more fun than doing it in a boring old toilet, right?”

“Ha! That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose…”

Mum broke off, her attention caught by Nicole, who was telling Emma about how Mia used to put on little music performances in their living room when she was younger. With a laugh, Mum said, “I remember when Lilly and Poppy used to put on little dance routines they copied from pop groups. Now look what they’re up to!”

“Oh, how things have changed, eh?” a laughing Nicole said, shaking her head. “Still, I think I prefer this kind of show better.” There were murmurs of agreement around the room.

“That gives me an idea,” said Henri, who then jumped up and jogged off towards the bathroom, perhaps needing to check something with her mum, who was still in there with my sister.

“I love the way Henri’s boobs jiggle about when she moves,” I said aloud without meaning to.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they?” sighed Emma.

“Well, yours are amazing. I hope mine come in like that.”

Everyone agreed with me that Emma’s breasts were awesome. Her slim frame made their shape look even more impressive. My eyes kept being drawn to them.

“I think yours have been growing a bit recently,” said Mum, reaching out to caress one. “Yes, it’s definitely a bit more developed.”

I giggled. “Maybe it’s all the sex I’ve been having that’s made them grow.”

Everyone chuckled, then little Evie piped up. “Then mine should be huge by now!”

That was enough to send us all into fits of laughter, though I was tempted to stand up, go over to where Evie sat and say, Want to see if we can both make ours bigger? Then, if she was willing, I’d go down on her right there, in front of everyone. I had yet to make love to Evie, and the sight of her childish body aroused me just as much as Emma’s full, womanly one.

While I was looking at Evie and having naughty thoughts about what I wanted to do to her, Henri, Kiki and Lilly had returned to join the party. Kiki clapped her hands briefly and said, “Can the grown-ups have a quick conflab in the kitchen, please? You too, Henri.”

She turned and walked away, and the adults followed her to the kitchen. They were out of hearing range, but still in plain view as they huddled round and started discussing something.

“What’s that all about, d’you suppose?” asked Lilly.

“I’m not sure,” I said.

Lottie giggled, “They’re probably deciding how they want to fuck us next… you know, who gets who.”

“God, I hope so. I’m totally ready for more!” said Mia with a big grin, which had us laughing all over again.

The adults came back over to us and sat down, except Henri, who went into the part of the house where the bedrooms are.

“We’ve got a surprise for you, girls,” Kiki said. We waited for her to explain, but she just smiled and added, “You’ll see in a moment.”

Henri returned a few seconds later with a handful of DVDs, holding them so we couldn’t see what they were. Cartoons, maybe? I didn’t mind watching a movie or something, but I’d have much preferred more sex.

Kiki took one of the DVDs and held it up, and I felt a prickle of excitement when I saw two naked ladies on the box. She said, “Who would like to watch some very hot lesbian porn?”

Lilly and Evie looked confused, Lottie shouted “Yes!” straight away, Beth and Mia grinned and nodded. Me, I thought about it for a second, then said, “Sure, why not?”

I knew what porn was, I just hadn’t seen very much of it. There was a short clip on this girl’s phone that she was letting the other girls see at school when we were hanging out on the playground – but that had a man and a lady doing it, so I didn’t watch for long. I’d never really looked into internet porn, maybe because by the time I was past just liking girls and into lesbian sex, I was already exploring those things with Mum.

But now, the idea of watching girls fuck along with my friends, family and lovers seemed like a great way to relax after all the sex we’d had. Anyhow, my pussy was a bit sore by then, so taking a break felt like a smart move.

Mum was showing Evie and Lilly the DVD case, telling them what to expect when we watched it. The way the girls were grinning told me all I needed to know.

We got ourselves arranged – some of us sprawled out on the carpet, some of us on the furniture. I sat next to Mum, who took my hand in hers. Henri put the disk in the player and, after a few menu options, the first film started.

On to Chapter Sixteen!

by BlueJean

They came upon her hut at dawn, with weapons in their hands and fear in their eyes.

And frightened men are dangerous creatures.

Witch, they named her.

She should have known. She should have run. A woman living in the woods with an illegitimate child, a maker of medicines, tinctures and remedies. All reason enough to paint her a target in this resurgence of superstition and fear.

Then a man had died. Not her doing — she had laboured to save him, using herbs and a little of the Earth’s magic, but he had been too far gone, infection and fever eating away at his life force. So she had tried to ease his passing as best she could.

But they needed someone to blame.

Witch, they named her.

“Isabel Laine! Come out!” the Witchfinder cried at her door.

“Mama? What do they want?” the child asked, cowering behind her mother.

Isabel knelt, took her daughter’s face in her hands. “Eliza, listen well. These men have come to take me away. They will speak lies, but truth will speak louder and all will be well, you’ll see.”

“I am scared, Mama!”

“There is no need for fear, my sweet. Stay here in the hut until I return, do you hear?”

The child wept and nodded her head. Her mother kissed her tenderly on the cheek.

When Isabel opened the door and stepped across the threshold, the men tensed visibly, increasing their grip on their pikes and flintlocks, fear coiling them tighter and tighter.

Do not show pride nor defiance, she told herself and made herself small and hunched, eyes towards the ground. Do not give them cause.

“Isabel Laine! Thou hath been accused of witchcraft and sorcery!” the Witchfinder decreed.

“I have done nothing, sir, practised no witchcraft nor sorcery, God be thy witness,” Isabel told them meekly.

“And God will be thy witness, woman.”

Away they took her. To the village to torture and interrogate and humiliate her. They stripped her naked – to check for a Witches’ Mark, they said, but truly it was just more humiliation.

Witch, they named her.

And it was true.

But Isabel was no fairytale witch. No cackling hag riding apon a broomstick, no daughter of the devil brewing foul poisons in cauldrons at dead of night, no murderer of newborn babes. Those were the conjurings of a hateful and guilt-ridden religion, of frightened men who saw shadows and shapes where there were none.

Isabel was a true witch. A mistress of herblore and nature. Descended from an ancient line of women who could tap into the Earth’s magics to heal and grant relief from pain, to ease birth, or sometimes prevent birth if there was a need.

And yes, the same power could twist the mind, or rot a person from the inside out, or even kill, but the Witch’s Oath forbade such abuse of nature’s gifts, unless the Witch’s life was in great peril — For all life has a right to defend itself.

But by the time they had found Isabel guilty and sentenced her to hang from the Ancient Oak, it was too late. For witchcraft is subtle, seeds of life and death nurtured over time, not the metal and gunpowder of men that snuff out life in a heartbeat.

In her desperation, she used fingers to scrape at the hard ground of her cell, collecting a small handful of earth, which she blew apon the man who was supposed to be guarding her as he snored away in a drunken stupor. A seed of infatuation she planted within him, in hope that he might pity her plight and set her free. But the soil was dry and barren, and not enough of the Earth’s magic remained in it to finish the task.

And then they came to take her to the tree.

A rope they placed round her neck, and as a priest spewed words of fear and hatred and ignorance, she saw her child amongst the crowd of baying villagers. Her Eliza. Her sweetness.

“No! Close your eyes, my sweet! Close your eyes!” Isabel cried out.

“Mama!”

The holy man uttered some nonsense about hell and eternal damnation.

“Your god will not help you against a mother scorned, priest!” Isabel screamed as they hoisted her up, the noose tightening around her neck.

But something reached out to her in those last moments of her life. Something ancient that dwelled within the great oak. Something her kind had named sisters once, back in the distant past. And in her grief and rage and despair she grasped and clawed at the primaeval power and would not let go.

And into the tree she went. Down and down and down…

“MAMA!”

***

Menhirs, Dolmens, and Henges, it has been theorised, are spiritual conduits, beacons erected over places of power and concentrations of unusual energy within the Earth, places where the rules of the universe do not always apply, windows into past and future and perhaps even the dream realm itself.

– Graham Figgins, Ley Lines and Places of Power

***

Sadie was a ten minute drive away from us and lived in one of the oldest and most unusual buildings in the area. Unlike our cottage, hers was an Anglo Saxon style roundhouse. The mossy, pointed thatched roof, having warped and twisted over the centuries, sat crooked on top of the structure like a witch’s hat, lending it a unique and quirky charm. The windows were circular; the white painted walls covered in ivy and carefully trained climbing roses. At some point in the recent past, a glass conservatory had been added to the rear of the building, which Sadie had turned into a comprehensive herb garden.

Freya and Millie called it “The Magic Cottage.”

The girls and I had come round to visit, and as Sadie and I sipped tea from fine bone china cups and browsed through glossy magazines full of horticulture and home decor, Freya inspected the lush herbs, smelling each one and doing her best to impress her teacher by naming them correctly. Millie sat on the ornately tiled conservatory floor, trying to introduce Bee to Sadie’s black cat, Billy Buckham. The puppy desperately wanted to be friends with the big tom cat but Billy — being older and wiser — saw no common ground between them, and made this known by hissing and swatting the air in front of the naive pup.

“Now you be nice, Billy,” Millie said, trying to convince the grumpy cat. “Bee’s still little and doesn’t have many friends, so she’d be ever so pleased if you added her to your friend list.”

“Aww, that’s sweet, Millie,” Sadie said. “But Billy Buckham hates everyone, I’m afraid.”

“Do you have trust issues, Billy?” Millie cooed and tickled Billy under the chin. Billy responded with a low growl which, roughly translated, meant, Touch me again and I will kill you.

“Ooh, mini fruit trees in pots. They look nice,” I said, looking at pictures of pristine miniature trees full of lush fruit.

“I’ll bet that’s not how they look in real life. You’d end up with a spindly stick in a pot and a single shrivelled lemon the size of a golf ball,” Sadie said.

“So cynical,” I told her, laughing.

“Um… sage?” Freya said as she smelled the next herb.

“That’s correct, Freya Newton. And can you tell me what sage is good for?” Sadie asked, going into teacher mode.

“Sage and onion stuffing!” Millie exclaimed, her hand in the air.

“Sadie was asking me, not you, Millie!” a frowning Freya told her sister, then managed to compose herself. “Uh… it’s good for the brain and… diabetes, and also if you’ve got a runny tummy.”

“Shall we send some to Mrs. Jeffries?” Millie said, and both girls giggled at some private joke.

“And what about the herb next to it?” Sadie asked Freya.

“That’s easy, I don’t even have to smell this one,” Freya replied, but sniffed the leafy herb anyway. “It’s basil. I love basil.”

“And what can basil help with?” Sadie said.

“Oh… ah… there’s actually so many things basil can do, I forgot them all,” Freya said, screwing her face up in a wince.

“You could have made something up and probably would have got it right,” Sadie told Freya. “Muscle pain, tiredness, depression, indigestion. It can treat infections, mosquito bites, sore throats. It’s good for the skin too. Basil is basically a super-herb.”

Millie was doing sit-ups on the floor, giggling as Bee kept poking her with a paw. Her short skirt had ridden up, revealing her pink panties which, pulled up tightly, had created a little camel toe.

Billy Buckham jumped up onto the arm of Sadie’s tatty couch next to his mistress, watching the foolishness below with disdain.

I gave Sadie a little look. She nibbled her bottom lip and smiled at me, idly caressing her inner thigh through the skirt she wore. I held my magazine up on my lap, so only Sadie could see what I was doing, then put a hand between my legs, slowly rubbing myself through my trousers.

Freya — her back turned to us — was still busy sampling all the herbs, oblivious to what her naughty teacher and mum were doing a few feet away.

Sadie and I stared between Millie’s legs and touched ourselves as discreetly as we could, our eyes meeting every now and then in a knowing glance.

How had we arrived at this mutual understanding, Sadie and I, that we both found my girls sexually attractive? Honest words had been exchanged in the heat of the moment, and those words had become confessions of a sort. And together we’d reached this strange new landscape, unafraid and unashamed.

Now there we were, stimulating ourselves with the girls present in the same room. More barriers broken; more walls come crashing down. New possibilities.

“I have another story to tell you,” I whispered to my friend.

“A naughty one?” Sadie whispered back as she gazed between my younger daughter’s legs.

“Extra naughty,” I told her. I wanted to put a hand down my trousers, but didn’t dare risk it.

Millie suddenly bounced onto her feet, and Sadie and I quickly pulled our hands away. “Shall we go and play in Miss Laine’s garden, Freya?” she asked her sister.

“Why don’t you both go play near the Menhir Stone for a while?” Sadie told the girls, and they scampered off with Bee in tow. Billy Buckham sauntered after them as well, presumably to see them off his property.

Sadie ran both hands through her long chestnut hair. “Shall we go to my bedroom?” she suggested. “Then you can tell me your story.”

“If you like,” I replied and we padded barefoot across the floor into Sadie’s room.

If it wasn’t for the double bed, I could have easily mistaken the room for a library. Rows and rows of books lined the curved walls from floor to ceiling. A few stray volumes were scattered across her bed:

Witchcraft For Beginners by Agnes Munt; The Wiccan Handbook by Carlee Carmichael; Ley Lines And Places Of Power by Graham Figgins; A Concise History Of Witchcraft by Prof. Jeanne Bleu.

“I’m detecting a certain theme here, Miss Laine,” I teased my friend. “Are you teaching my kids witchcraft?”

Sadie smiled as she switched on her oil diffuser. “I don’t think my superiors would be very happy if I was, but Wiccan is just a belief system like any other, really.”

“You like to read about this stuff?” I asked her, idly flipping through the pages of one of the volumes.

“I like to read about everything. I’m hungry for knowledge,” Sadie told me as I leaned over her bed, and suddenly I could feel her breath against my neck. “And I’m hungry for you, Georgia Newton,” she growled in my ear, and then she was upon me.

Her hands reached around to grab my tits as she grazed my neck with her teeth.

“Oh!” I gasped, surprised, and arched my body back against hers, tilting my head to the side so she could ravish me freely. “But… we’re best friends,” I could hear myself protest unconvincingly as Sadie sucked my ear, squeezing my breasts through the cool linen shirt I wore.

“I know… but I want you so badly,” she growled at me.

I turned to face her, fumbling at the buttons on my trousers, pushing them down and then nearly tripping up on them as I frantically tugged at Sadie’s skirt.

Lacy knickers. Always with the lacy knickers.

Sadie ripped her t-shirt off, and her perky tits sprang free. I grabbed one, rolling the swollen nipple between finger and thumb. She kicked her skirt away and pushed me back against the bed. “I want to fuck you. I want to rub my cunt on yours,” she told me, leaving no room for argument.

Our mouths met in a sublime exchange of tongues, eager and greedy.

“Is this what a little pair of pink panties does to you?” I teased, snatching Sadie’s knickers down her legs with one swift tug. “Did you like looking at my little girl’s pussy through her pretty panties? Is that what got you so horny?”

“It was such a turn-on,” Sadie moaned as she ground her pussy against my thigh. “Is that okay, Georgia? To look at Millie and think those naughty thoughts? Do you mind?”

I ripped my own knickers off and grabbed her arse, pulling her tight against me, our pussies pressed together. “No, I don’t mind. Fuck me, Sadie!”

And fuck me she did, our cunts grinding against each other with an urgency I don’t think either of us knew we possessed. The very air around us was infused with the musky, primal scent of our frantic lovemaking.

We came together loudly, baptising each other with our wetness, sharing a deep, lustful gaze as we rode those stormy orgasmic waves.

But I wanted more. And evidently, so did my best friend.

“I want you to tell me the story now… the extra naughty one,” she murmured in my ear. “And while you tell it, I’m going to lick you out, okay?”

“Okay, Miss Laine,” I panted, pushing her away. Scrambling back on to the bed, I shoved her books to either side of me, then I spread my legs apart as lewdly as I could. “Come and stick your tongue in my cunt… and I’ll tell you what I did with Freya the other night.”

Sadie crawled across the bed towards me like a wildcat stalking its prey. Dipping her face between my legs, she breathed in my aroma, then began to kiss and nuzzle my inner thighs, first one and then the other. Finally, her mouth latched on to my cunt.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, grabbing her hair. It had been a while since I’d been eaten out. I unbuttoned my shirt, my tits spilling free so that I could massage and knead them. “Remember that night you stayed over, when we masturbated for each other after the girls had gone to bed?”

“Of course,” Sadie said from between my legs.

“Freya saw us. She was hiding at the top of the stairs, spying.”

“What a naughty girl,” Sadie growled. I could feel the vibrations of her voice against my cunt.

“So the next evening, I invited her to my bedroom to watch me again, up close and personal, so she could really see what was happening.”

“God, Georgia, you’re so fucking wicked,” she murmured, then went back to licking me.

“B-but I didn’t just want her to watch me masturbate, that wasn’t enough. I – I wanted to see her play with herself, too. I wanted us to watch each other.” I groaned, stroking my friend’s hair as her tongue flickered and lashed against my pussy. “Oh fuck, that feels so good, Sadie.”

“Tell me the rest,” Sadie said, her lips glistening with my juices.

“We stripped for each other,” I continued. “First our pyjama tops, then the bottoms. And then I took my panties off for her.”

“Did she take hers off, too?”

“Yes. I had her stand up on the bed and pull her panties down, nice and slow. It was so erotic, Sadie.”

“I wish I was there to see it,” Sadie moaned as she trailed her fingers up and down my pussy lips before returning her mouth to my cunt.

“So we played with ourselves in front of each other. Freya diddled herself while she watched me stuff my panties into my pussy.”

“You dirty girl.”

“And then I got her to stand over me and, and finger herself while I made myself come… Sadie! Oh! I’m gonna come in your m-mouth!”

Sadie attacked my throbbing cunt as I clutched her hair and thrust against her, my climax exploding outwards.

“Come on me, Georgia!” she hissed, then lapped frantically at my convulsing pussy, my creamy nectar smearing her lips and chin.

When I had partially recovered, Sadie flipped me over onto my stomach and mounted me. “I need to come, too,” she told me, grinding her cunt against my arse.

“Did you like my story, then?” I asked her as she kissed my neck with her sticky mouth.

“So deliciously naughty,” she said. “Why didn’t you invite Millie?”

“I don’t know, I think she’s too young. I don’t want to scare her,” I told my friend as she humped against me.

I wasn’t being completely honest with myself, though. True, Millie was very young, but after spying on my daughters in the poppy field and later in their bedroom, it was clear to me that she’d been enjoying their sexual play as much as Freya. But kids experimenting together is one thing — when Mummy gets involved, the dynamic shifts entirely. Freya had taken to it, sure, but Millie? I won’t lie, the idea enticed me — I just needed to get my head round my recent rendezvous with my eldest daughter first, and this quite sudden and alarming development in my relationship with my best friend.

Sadie shook her head. “You shouldn’t exclude her. Division between a mother and child can create a void, and… oh, fuck, you smell so nice… a void can be filled with unwelcome things,” she told me, as if she knew what I was thinking.

“Did you read that in one of your books, Miss Laine?” I purred, and turned my head to kiss her. I could taste myself on her lips.

“I think it would be wonderful for all three of you to play naughty games together,” Sadie growled, her words slurred and lusty.

“Wouldn’t you feel left out?” I teased.

“I… I could join you,” Sadie moaned, the wet suction of her shaved pussy lips making wonderfully erotic liquid sounds as she slid her cunt up and down my arse.

“You could,” I told her. “Freya would love to see her teacher’s pretty pussy.”

I felt Sadie shiver. “Would she?”

“Yes. After I’d gotten myself off, I pulled my wet panties out of my pussy and sent her to bed with them. And do you know what she told me?” I said.

“Georgia, I’m going to come,” Sadie whimpered.

“She told me she was going to sniff them while she humped her pillow, and imagine that she was licking your pussy.”

“I’m – I’m coming!” she cried.

“Fuck me, Miss Laine!” I snarled as my best friend ground out her orgasm against my bum cheeks.

Finally spent, Sadie lay on top of me, breathing heavily, her head resting against my shoulder. “Oh, Georgia… oh, my goodness. We’re so naughty… really, really naughty…”

I reached back behind me to caress her arse, and she kissed me deeply.

“Is this what best friends do these days?” I asked her.

“Yes, I think so. It’s very in vogue,” Sadie informed me.

“Oh, good.”

***

There’s this big barley field next to Miss Laine’s house and right in the middle of it, on a big patch of mowed grass, sits the Menhir Stone.

Now, the Menhir Stone was really old.

Actually, all stones are really old, aren’t they?

Um…

Well, what I mean is, people from thousands of years ago moved it here and then carved weird writing called runes on it and it’s been here ever since. It was about six feet tall but apparently there was another six feet of it underground, so it was actually twice as big!

Me and Millie ran through the field with our arms held out, so that the soft green stalks whipped against our hands. Bee chased after us and every time she bounced up over the barley stalks to see where we were, it would make us laugh.

“Let’s play Jurassic Park,” I suggested.

“Okay, I’ll be a felocifafaptor,” Millie said.

“Velociraptor,” I corrected her.

“That’s what I said. Felocifafaptor.”

“No, velociraptor!”

“Felocifafaptor?”

“Vell-oss-ear-rap-tor! It’s not hard to say!”

“Fell-oss-ear-fer-fap-tor!”

I covered my head with my hands and sighed. “Unbelievable. Okay, I’ll be the woman who runs around a lot and you be… whatever you want to call it.”

Millie, method actor that she was, hunched herself over, brought her hands up to her chest and began snapping at me with her eyes crossed. “Rargh!” she screeched and I couldn’t help but laugh. She looked like a mentally challenged person. (Mum says we’re not allowed to call them nutters.) Bee pricked her ears up at my sister’s odd behaviour.

I ran through the barley and Millie chased after me screeching and snapping, with Bee bouncing after us. “Alan! Alan!” I shouted.

“Wait,” Millie said and we both came to a halt. “Who’s Alan?”

“Alan’s the main dinosaur man,” I explained. “The woman runs round shouting his name. She literally does it for the whole movie.”

“Oh, okay,” Millie said and off we went again.

“Alan! Alaaan!” I shrieked and ran through the barley as fast as my legs would carry me.

It wasn’t far behind me, I knew. And there were probably more of them stalking me, too. They always hunted in packs. At least one of them was small and furry and looked suspiciously like a puppy.

“Alan! Alaaaaan!”

It was close now. I could feel its reptilian breath on my neck. If I could just make it to the building that was cleverly designed to look like a gigantic stone, I would be safe.

“Alaaaaan!”

Where the bloody hell was Alan when you needed him?

“Alan!” I cried as I finally reached the building and burst through the door, slamming it shut behind me.

The deadly raptor pushed open the door and stepped across the threshold. It stared me down menacingly.

“Clever girl…” I mumbled.

“I’ve eaten Alan!” the dinosaur informed me.

“Velociraptors don’t talk,” I told Millie.

“They can open doors,” Millie said.

“But they don’t talk.”

“I know.”

We sat down on the grass next to the Menhir Stone to catch our breath.

“I wonder what the writing means,” Millie said, studying the runic symbols carved into the stone.

“I’m not sure, but Miss Laine would probably know.”

“Freya?”

“What?”

“Do you want me to lick your kitty?”

I stood up and had a look around to make sure nobody was about. The coast was clear. “Yeah, okay,” I said and pulled my shorts down.

“Shall we take all our clothes off?” Millie suggested.

“We could, but if anyone comes, we’ll have to run into the barley and hide, okay?” I told her.

“All right” Millie said and began pulling her clothes off.

Soon we were both naked. I slapped Millie on the bum and she jumped.”Stop it!” she protested.

I lay back on the grass and spread my legs open while Millie knelt down and put her face between them. She poked her tongue out and made blub blub blub sounds as she licked my kitty.

“Don’t make silly noises, just lick it,” I told her and twirled my fingers around locks of her hair as she licked me out.

Bee sat watching us, her ears pricked up.

Millie raised her head. “Am I doing it right?” she asked.

“Yeah, you’re doing really well. Lick this bit at the top more, though,” I said and pulled my pussy lips apart so she could get to my sensitive little lump. “Good girl,” I praised my little sister as she licked me there. “Make me do an orgasm and then I’ll lick yours.”

“Am I old enough to do an orgasm?” Millie said.

“I’m not sure, but we’ll see. Keep licking me, please. Really hard and fast, okay?”

I held the back of her head and pushed my kitty up against her as I watched what she was doing. She kept at it for a while until I started getting that familiar feeling.

“You’re getting… really good at this, Millie,” I gasped and felt my orgasm bubbling between my legs. “K-Keep doing it like that. Aah!” It burst to the surface and exploded out of me. “Oooh! St-stop… stop! Just… just hold your tongue there while I… Oh! That’s really nice. Oh, good girl…” I groaned, my body trembling.

Millie looked up at me and grinned. “Was it good?” she asked me, her mouth all wet.

“Yeah, thanks,” I panted and stroked her hair.

“My turn now, please!” my sister said and sat up.

“Okay, but let’s kiss first,” I told her and we did a really wet, messy one with tongues. I could taste my kitty on her mouth. “Let’s do it differently this time,” I suggested. “I’ll lay back and you kneel over my face so I can lick you.”

“Okay,” Millie said. She got up and stood over me, spreading her legs and lowering herself down so I could see her kitty coming towards me.

“Argh! The Puffy Pussy Monster’s coming to get me!” I said dramatically.

Millie laughed and squatted down over my face, her kitty only a couple of inches from my mouth.

“Pull it open,” I told my sister.

“You always say that,” Millie said, rolling her eyes.

“I just like it when you spread it,” I said and licked the inside of her pussy as she held it apart for me.

Most times when I licked my sister’s kitty, it was at bedtime after we had a bath or a shower, but sometimes, like now, when we had been running around all day, it tasted different. Not as clean but not exactly dirty either. It tasted… sexier.

Millie rocked backwards and forwards, sliding her pussy over my mouth. “This is fun!” she squealed.

“Stop moving around so much!” I told her and she slowed down so I could lick her properly.

I sucked on her little bump and tried to push a finger into her hole. It wouldn’t go right in but I got it up there enough that I could move it in and out a bit.

She gazed down at me with her mouth wide open and a really drowsy look on her face. “Freya… it’s making me feel all funny. I think I’m gonna do a wee or something.” She leaned forward and put her hands on the Menhir Stone to steady herself.

And then we weren’t in the barley field anymore.

I felt my ears pop and there was a weird odor, like how it smells when it starts to rain. I pushed Millie off me and sat up.

We were in a dark, lush forest, and I had no idea how we got here. “Millie, what did you do?!”

“I didn’t do anything! The stone just sucked me in!” Millie shouted at me.

“You’re gonna be in so much trouble when Mum finds out!” I told her. I looked around me. “Where are we?”

Wherever we were, the Menhir Stone had come with us too, but it looked cleaner than it had before, and the runes had disappeared.

“Freya, look,” Millie whispered to me, pointing at something.

All I could see were trees. “What?”

“There. Between those two big trees.”

Then I saw it. Saw her.

“Green lady…” I mumbled.

She was standing a few metres away watching us, her long walnut brown hair swept behind her pointed ears and down across her bare breasts, a single blue jewel on her forehead, strung from a thin vine. Other vines were wrapped around her arms, legs and midriff, and leaves covered her private bits. She was beautiful. And green. Really green…

“It’s the Dryad,” Millie said.

I felt like we were dreaming and wondered if we had fallen asleep in the barley field. “What is this?” I whispered, confused and scared.

This is where it begins, the Dryad said to us in a language I’d never heard, but somehow I could understand every word.

“Where what begins?” Millie asked her.

Where the Tuatha Dé Danann reveal themselves to humanity.

I could hear voices all around me and suddenly we were surrounded by ugly-looking people wearing animal skins and furs. They were short and stocky, had protruding brows and big wide noses, and their hair was shaved into mohicans and tufts, with feathers woven into them. The women were bare-chested and had painted their hair red. They wore colourful beads and stones strung into necklaces, bracelets and earrings.

They reminded me of those cave people we had learnt about in school that had become extinct thousands of years ago.

“Freya, I’d quite like to go home now,” Millie told me and held on to me tightly.

I was aware that we didn’t have any clothes on, but the people didn’t seem to notice us anyway. They were busy talking to a group of Dryads that were standing nearby.

The green woman spoke again. Two hundred thousand cycles ago, the Mammoth Hunters find us. We sense the potential in their women; primitive enough to remember the gifts nature granted their ape ancestors; evolved enough that they might manipulate those gifts: The first witches.

The women were reaching up to touch the Dryads’ hair, laughing and babbling to each other.

“Th-that’s nice and everything, but we’re just kids, really,” I said to the Dryad. “If you wouldn’t mind sending us home now, please? Our mum will be worried about us.”

I did not bring you here, Freya Newton, the Dryad told me. If you wish to leave, go back the way you came.

How did she know my name?

“I’m gonna put my hands on the big stone again,” Millie said and reached out to touch it.

The Dryad tilted her head and looked at Millie curiously. Strange…Your journey does not begin nor end, Millie Newton. It coils in on itself like a Möbius strip, independent of the universe’s cycles. I have not seen one like you in millennia.

Millie looked at the Dryad, then at me, then back at the Dryad again. “Um, yeah, okay. Bye, then!” she said and grabbed my hand. She stuck her other hand on the Menhir Stone.

My ears popped again and both of us fell over and landed on our bums.

I looked around me and the forest had vanished, replaced by the familiar sight of barley fields. Bee was standing nearby wagging her tail, one of Millie’s shoes in her mouth. Billy Buckham sat next to the puppy and gave us a really disdainful look, as if he thought we were idiots.

We were back.

***

I picked Sadie’s lacy panties up from the floor as she stepped into a fresh pair. They were damp to the touch.

“I think I’d like some sexy underwear. Maybe some nice stockings, too,” I said, more to myself than to my friend.

“You go, girl!” Sadie whooped.

“Think I can pull it off?” I asked her, holding her panties up against my waist and wiggling my bum.

“Well you certainly pulled mine off,” Sadie quipped, glancing over her shoulder at me. She gave me a wicked look. “So Freya likes to take your dirty knickers to bed with her?”

“Yeah, she’s a little perv.”

“Do you think she’d like those?” she asked me, looking at her panties in my hands.

“Oh yes, she’d have hours of fun with them.”

Sadie sauntered over, took her knickers from me and stuffed them into my trouser pocket. “A token of esteem for my favourite student,” she murmured, then kissed me on the lips.

“You’re a very naughty schoolteacher, Sadie Laine,” I told her.

Once we’d dressed and cleaned ourselves up, we headed back to Sadie’s conservatory. Not long after, the girls came bounding in, all wild eyes and rambling words.

“Mum! Millie touched the Menhir Stone and sucked us back in time!” Freya told me, her eyes huge.

“Oh, that’s nice,” I said, browsing through my magazine.

“I didn’t know it was going to do that, Mummy! Someone should put a warning sign next to it!” Millie protested.

“I’m not joking, Mum! We saw cave people! And Dryads, too! I thought we’d be trapped there forever!” Freya explained.

“Well, thank goodness you weren’t, because I need you both to help me cook dinner tonight!” I told the girls. They rambled to Sadie about runic symbols and who had carved them and why.

Billy Buckham strolled in and sharpened his claws on Sadie’s couch, daring us all to tell him he wasn’t allowed to. If he knew something, he certainly wasn’t telling.

What a strange day, I mused as we pulled up to the cottage in the beetle. I’d slept with my best friend, and wasn’t sure where that left us. Was she still my best friend? Was she my lover now? Both? I didn’t know how it would all work out, but I knew one thing: I didn’t want to stop.

As the girls and I strolled up the garden path towards the house, Freya pointed to something in the sky. “Look!” she cried.

I looked up and saw a little yellow shape swooping through the air near the girls’ bedroom window. I was puzzled at first, then realised that it was Millie’s canary.

“It’s Nigel!” Millie shouted, jumping up and down. “He’s flying!”

On to Chapter Seven!