Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Introduction from JetBoy: Connoisseurs of erotic lesbian fiction should need no introduction to the sweet, savory tales of Louisa May. More than anyone, she filled me with the hunger to write sex stories of my own. She withdrew from the scene years ago, but came back in a big way in 2021 with a sizzling new work, “Sasha’s Counsel.”  Well, Louisa has even more to say, and in that spirit she has gifted us with a delightful new story.

Here it is, you lucky people. Hope you get as much pleasure out of reading it as I derived from editing it.

By Louisa May

Thanks to JetBoy for his indispensable contributions to this story. He has afforded me the indescribable luxury of being understood.

***

It was Didi’s birthday — her little girl, twelve years old! Valerie Viteri had prepared a suitably impressive celebration for her daughter.

Red velvet birthday cake… Check!

The entire first season of the hot new HBO series, Game of Thrones, which she’d had put on hold for her daughter at the library. Up to then, she’d deemed the program too full of sex and violence for someone Didi’s age to watch. But now that she was twelve (how did that happen?) Valerie had decided to allow it, as long as Didi was watching it along with her… Check!

A six pack of beer that, on an affectionate whim, she also decided to allow  – again, as long as it was to be drunk with her mother. As it was a Friday night, and Didi’s birthday was September 12, and she was twelve, Valerie simply couldn’t resist when she spied, in the Craft Beer section, a brew called “Twelve is Awesome!” What she didn’t know was the fact that the “twelve” in the beer’s name referred to its rather steep alcohol content: 12 percent. Which may have had something to do with the unusual events that transpired later on…  Check!

It was the last day of the first week back at school. Still summer, really, and a hot day — but also Friday afternoon, the doorway to two days of glorious freedom! And an extra jolt of freedom for Didi, because her mom had hinted at birthday surprises. “We might very well have our very own little party when we get home,” she’d said with arched eyebrows. For both Didi and her mother attended the same school — Valerie as an administrator in the principal’s office, Didi as a brand-new seventh-grader.

Sure enough, when at 5:00 PM that afternoon, they’d finally arrived home — Didi was pleased and surprised to encounter streamers, banners, balloons…

She turned to her mom, who was grinning at her. “When did you get time to do all this?”

Valerie waggled a finger at her. “Who said I did it?” She smiled wickedly, then kissed her daughter’s forehead. “I dashed home during lunch, silly.”

Didi’s eyes were wide, her tongue pushing against her inner cheek, a grin winning out. “It’s… amazing!”

“Awww,” Valerie blushed, then wrapped both arms around Didi, pressing the girl to her chest.

Didi felt the warm sponginess of her mother’s breast resting against her cheek. Then Mom kissed the top of her head, and she was released. “Happy Birthday, my little lady.”

Didi blushed. “Not so little.”

Valerie grinned as she turned and headed for her bedroom. “No, not so little,” she said over her shoulder, “and getting bigger all the time! Let me get out of these clothes, then we can have your birthday dinner!”

In her bedroom, Valerie removed her earrings. No, not so little, she thought.

Didi really was becoming her ‘little lady.’ Her girlish body was just starting to fill out. And she did have her mother’s mouth, those full, sensuous lips. And the high cheekbones. But then there was that golden-red hair (that Didi always insisted be put in pigtails), her bronze skin tone, those amazingly green Irish eyes. Those freckles. Those dimples! More and more like Brian every day.

Brian… has it really been ten years?

Valerie remembered feeling so safe in her little life as a mom, so secure. Her husband was a brand-new corporate attorney, while she’d recently given up her career as a Broadway chorus dancer, idly daydreaming about perhaps doing a bit of coaching here, a bit of substitute teaching there.

Then came their first real vacation together, when Brian had wanted to try hang-gliding… the almost hallucinatory moment when she’d been told of his death… then the panicky months afterwards, when she’d had to find out how to make her own way, to provide for her two-year-old daughter. How? With what skills? There were precious few openings for a thirty-two-year-old Broadway dancer — and besides, what would she do with Didi?

Valerie sent out a flurry of job applications, all emphasizing her pre-Broadway experience in theater administration. And, miraculously, managed to land the job she held now.

Shaking her head, she shucked the School Administrator’s outfit she was required to wear, with very little variation, every day: dark blazer (with perhaps a bit of color on holidays); button-front sleeved tops (white or blue); knee-length skirt (no pants — the schoolboys might be distracted by her ass); matchable flats; and yes — pantyhose (nude, naturally). When she’d first taken this position ten years ago, after over a decade as a professional dancer, Valerie’s reaction to this last requirement had been “Whaaat? Every day?!” Not aloud, of course… she’d needed the job desperately, and was beyond grateful to have it, especially since it meant a free education at an expensive private school for Didi. So, though Valerie much preferred the cool, smooth elasticity of tights, she resigned herself to living with the disadvantages of nylon hose – a few days of sweaty discomfort, as well as the occasional run. Years later, she’d grown accustomed to it.

As she stood at the bathroom sink removing her make-up, Valerie was, for the umpteenth time, struck by the generous heft of her breasts. She turned sideways. Dang. From just one kid? Twelve years ago? How on earth…?

She lifted them, then slowly trailed her hands outwards, squeezing along the way, pausing for a final tweak of the nips. Oooh. Yep, they grew, too. Like aliens. Now whenever she got even mildly excited (a rare event, these days), those alien nipples invariably betrayed her, becoming huge – almost visible through her blouse. Amazing. What used to be barely visible little pink nubs on her skinny dancer’s bod had grown into dark little fingertips at the ends of her breasts. From 32A to 34D. Who’d have thought it? She shook her head and continued her ablutions.

Didi, meanwhile, had gone to her own room and taken off her soccer gear — jersey and shorts into the hamper, cleats under the bed, shin guards flung into the corner. She stood in front of her door-length mirror, naked but for her panties, and raised both arms – she-man pose! Look at that! Red hair in cool pigtails, solid bod, sin-ew-y muscles (still somewhat hidden in baby fat, oh well). What’s gonna keep her from making first string?

She dropped her arms with a sigh. How could she be a she-man with these little bumps pushing their way out of her freckled chest? Can’t even call them boobs… She turned sideways. Yup, just tiny little bumps. Sticking out her rear end, she grabbed a cheek with each hand and squeezed, then studied the result. A little better — but still, not much. Nothing like Mom’s.

Just last week, Didi had run into her mother’s room to see if she knew where her favorite socks had got to — and was stunned to be presented with Mom’s naked bottom as she rummaged about in her lingerie drawer. Stunned, because she hadn’t realized how very… beautiful her figure was. Her bottom, especially.

Didi frowned at the mirror. Well… she wasn’t even five feet tall. And some girls teased her about her braces, saying dumb crap like, “Hi, Darla!” But soon! Soon, she’d show them her moves, how awesome she could be. She raised a fist and whispered, “Yeah!”

“Didi? You ready for dinner?”

“I’m coming!” She whipped on her favorite Steelers shirt, wriggled into long jammy pants, and hustled into the kitchen, where Valerie had a whole platter of hamburgers set in her place.

“Whoa! Is this…?” She picked up one and confirmed that yes, this was from her favorite burger joint. “YES!” Removing the wrapper, she took her first delicious bite. Valerie looked on, smiling.

After dinner, Valerie brought in the cake, singing. “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to youuuuu…” Didi just grinned, closed her eyes and made a wish, blowing out the candles. Then Valerie cut thick slices of cake, which they ate with pleasure.

Afterwards, Valerie took the leftover cake to the kitchen. “Go ahead and relax on the couch. Maybe we’ll do something fun tonight.” She winked. “I don’t know.”

Once Didi was settled in, Valerie retrieved the Game of Thrones DVDs from her purse and brought them into the living room. “So.” She smiled at her daughter, aware that the girl was expecting something special. “I have a certain DVD here…”

But just as she was about to tell Didi what she’d bought, the lights went out. As did the air conditioning. As did everything.

“Well, that’s not good.” Valerie pressed the light switch near her. Nothing.

“Hmm…” She went to the window and looked out. There was no light anywhere in sight. “Oh, my.”

Didi cautiously made her way to the window at the other end of their apartment. “There’s no light out here, either.”

Valerie got her phone out and tried to call the electric company, but the line was busy. As she set the phone down, there was a knock at the door.

She opened it to a neighbor – George Phelps, from across the street. “You too?” she murmured.

“Hey, Val. Yeah, no power. Hell of a thing. We’re gonna walk down a few blocks, see if it’s out all over.”

“Good luck,” Valerie told him. They exchanged nods, and George set off.

Valerie tried phoning once more, but with no success. She looked up at Didi. “Wow. Some birthday, huh?” It was getting quite dark in the apartment.

“I know.” Didi seated herself on the couch with a sigh.

Determined to salvage what she could of their evening, Valerie went into action. “Okay. So. We make do. Right?”

Didi looked up at her mother – puzzled, but game. “Right?”

“Right.” Valerie started scrabbling in a bureau in the living room. “I know we have candles here somewhere. Aha – I knew it!” She took some tea candles from the drawer, then a pack of matches. Setting them out on the coffee table, she lit each one.

A glow soon enveloped the room as Valerie sat back to survey her handiwork. “That’s nice, isn’t it?”

Didi nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “We’re good to go.”

They decided to play Scrabble, which was the only game close at hand. “This’ll be fun, right?” Valerie said as she began to unpack the box.

Again, Didi nodded. “Sure, Mom. Um… what was that DVD you had?”

“Well, it was the first season of Game of Thrones. I was going to let you watch it with me – you know, as a birthday present.”

“Oooohhh!” Didi slumped in her seat. “God, what a cool surprise! And now, we don’t get to watch it! Stupid electricity,” she pouted.

Valerie frowned. “Ohh, I know. It sucks.”

“Oh… it’s not that bad, Mom. Really. Just hanging out with you, I like that too.”

That made Valerie smile. “Well…” She paused to tug at her sweatpants, which were beginning to feel uncomfortably warm. “That’s okay, then… if it’s okay with you, honeybunch. Seriously.” Reaching out, she cupped her daughter’s face in both hands. “Everything’s all right?”

“Seriously, Mom,” Didi murmured, amused by her mom’s earnestness, “it’s fine.”

Valerie gave her daughter a kiss on the nose. “Good!” Getting up, she went out to the kitchen to fetch a stool. Plunking it on the other side of the coffee table, she took her seat, rubbing both hands together. “Okay then, let’s do this!” And they began to draw their first sets of letters.

After a few minutes of play, Valerie raised a finger in the air. “Wait!… I have another birthday surprise, one I completely forgot!” She rose, then hurried into the kitchen. Coming back, she said, “I had this in the fridge, which is, of course, non-functional. Lucky for us, these are still cold.” She placed the six-pack on the table. “Drink up!”

Didi was floored. “Beer?” She took a bottle from the carton, gazing at it in disbelief.

Valerie grinned at her. “Yep. Hey, you only turn twelve once, right?” Taking a beer for herself, she showed her daughter the label. “See?”

Didi stared at the bottle and grinned back. “Twelve is Awesome? Totally!”

Unscrewing the top, Valerie held out her bottle. “To being twelve. Years. Old!”

“Yes!” Didi cheered. They clinked bottles, then took deep swallows. Savoring the taste, Didi smacked her lips. “Cool!”

Valerie nodded. “Right?”

Didi concurred. “Right!”

Sipping their beers, they continued Scrabbling, trying to ignore the heat. The temperature had yet to drop, and the lack of air conditioning was really making itself felt.

After a while, Valerie started fanning herself. “Whew! Man, is it hot! You don’t realize how important the AC is until it’s not working, you know?” She took off her sweater.

Didi noticed right away that the t-shirt her mom had underneath the sweater was already a bit sweat-soaked — and that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Valerie plucked restlessly at the front of her shirt for another minute or so, then abruptly stood up. “Yuck! Okay, that’s all I can take. I have to, to, get more comfortable.” Giving Didi a sheepish smile, she added, “I mean, normally I wouldn’t do this…” She began to peel her sweatpants off. “But this is an emergency situation!” Stepping out of the sodden sweats, she threw them in the direction of her room. Shaking her legs, she muttered, “Ugh, so sweaty!” then stood before Didi in her t-shirt and panties, spreading her hands in a gesture of self-display. “This okay?”

Didi shrugged. “Yeah, whatever.” Actually, the sight of Mom undressing was something that interested her quite a lot, but she thought it best not to let that interest show. It was pretty warm, though – her own jammy pants, being polar fleece, were getting increasingly hot and sweaty inside.

Valerie pointed at her daughter. “What about you, kiddo?” she chuckled. “I can’t be the only one hanging out in my underwear.”

“No,” Didi agreed. She held up a finger. “But, um, I’m not wearing underpants, so I’m gonna go get some!” With that, she jumped up and ran to her room.

Valerie called after her. “You’re actually supposed to wear something under those!” Sitting back on her stool, she took a long swig of beer. She burped, then muttered to herself, “Then I wouldn’t have to wash them so often.”

Didi came back wearing a Minions T-shirt and Monsters Inc. boxer shorts. Valerie had to smile. “Look at you, Cartoon Girl.”

Didi looked down at herself. “Yep. Big ones,” pointing to her boxers, then to her chest, “and little ones.” She looked up and blushed. “I mean, you know, the Minions. Little.” And she flopped onto the couch.

Valerie giggled. “I know what you meant.” To ease her discomfiture, she leaned forward and tapped the Scrabble board. “Your turn, baby.”

Didi leaned into the board, carefully studied her tiles, then quickly placed a row of them on the board.

Valerie spelled the word out as it appeared. “B-R-I-S-T-L-E.”

Didi nodded. “Bristle.”

“Wo-o-w…” Valerie murmured, frowning. “Excellent.”

Didi grinned. “Well, I thought so.”

“You almost used all your letters.”

“I know.” She looked at the board. “If only I had a ‘D’ or an ‘S’. But I don’t.”

“Still. ‘Bristle’, that’s pretty impressive.” Valerie wrote down her score, then suddenly looked up. “Oh, my God, I forgot to tell you — you know Ashley Bristol, right?”

“Umm, yeah…”

“Well.” Valerie scooted her chair in closer. “She — and the other Ashley–”

“Which other Ashley?” Didi said, frowning. “There are like eight of them, I think– “

“You know, they hang out together, always chewing gum… oh, Ashley Hernandez!”

“Oh, right. The slutty one.”

Valerie laughed. “They both are!”

Didi took a swig of beer. “That’s true.” She burped.

“Excuse you!”

“’Scuse me.”

“It’s okay, I burped too.” Valerie took a pull from her bottle.

Didi couldn’t keep herself from staring at those incredible boobs when Mom tilted her head back. It’s like they’re alive… God, she’s so perfect, so totally awesome…

Anyway…” She noticed her daughter’s stare. “What, did I spill some?” She checked her chest, then looked back up at Didi. “Ohh…” She grinned; wagged a finger. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, no peeking.” She looked back down at herself. “They are pretty great, though, I know.” She studied Didi’s chest thoughtfully. “You’re coming along rather nicely yourself, I see.” She burped. “Whoops. ‘Scuse me.”

Didi blushed, and smiled. “You’re excused.”

Valerie took a little bow. “Thank you.” She looked at the Scrabble board. “What was I saying…? Oh, the Ashley girls! Okay, so they were both in the office, right? ‘Cause your art teacher, Betsy Duval, said they were dressed inappropriately, don’t you know.”

Didi made a face. “Mrs. Duval…”

“I know, she’s such a pill, isn’t she? I mean, she makes this big deal of being this groovy old hippie chick, with her hair in these endless braids –”

“Those long dresses…” Didi made a face.

“Right? Those long, flowing hippie skirts she always wears, and her really mellow voice, like,” she began to speak in a low, breathy register “‘Oh, Val, darling, Val, you look like that actress, darling, you know, The Abyss? Perfect Storm? Oh, you know who I mean… Scarface? Anyway — could you be a doll and run these forms for me. I am such a spaz with all these, these numbers. It’s my artistic mind, you know… there’s absolutely no side of my brain good for anything else. Thank youuuuu!’ And off she’d float, like some big, red-haired llama or something.”

Valerie was sitting with her legs kind of spread out on the stool. Didi thought she detected a few dark hairs peeking out of her mother’s underwear – but was especially careful not to stare, so Mom wouldn’t catch her looking again. “So,” she prompted, “the Ashleys…?”

“YES,” Valerie continued, giving her head a quick shake as if to clear it. “So, they were dressed pretty slutty. Like, tiny skirts that went right up to their, their –”

“Their cootchies?”

“Diana Viteri!” Valerie gasped, then she chuckled. “I was about to say, their crotches. Or privates?”

“That’s so weird,” Didi said. “It’s like, why is it called ‘privates’ anyhow? I mean, especially for those girls… they might as well call it their ‘publics.’

Val laughed. “Their ‘pubic publics!’” She drained her beer, then held up the empty. “Well, this one’s cashed. Think I’ll have another. How ‘bout you?”

Taking her last swallow, Didi handed her mother the bottle. “Sure.”

“Okay…” Valerie rose from the stool, swaying slightly. “Woo.” She paused for a moment, savoring the mood. “This is very good beer.”

Didi watched her head to the kitchen. Mum’s t-shirt wasn’t quite long enough to cover everything, so the twelve-year-old got a good look at her full, womanly bottom, which looked especially nice in the skimpy panties she wore.

Relaxing back into the couch, Didi gave a contented sigh. Even if we don’t get to watch Game of Thrones, this is turning out to be a really cool birthday. Kind of weird, but cool.

She’d begun to notice a certain… dampness in her boxer shorts, a squishy feeling she had down there. It was probably because of getting to see her mom so open, so visible to her. Usually, she was so buttoned up, only undressing behind closed doors.

Valerie came back with two bottles. “Here ya go,” she said, handing one to Didi. She glanced around the room. “Hey, these candles are gettin’ low. They’re too small for this kind of thing, really. Hmm, let’s see…” She continued to look about. “Now, where are they… ?” Padding over to the bureau, Valerie opened a drawer, peering inside. “No…” Opening one further down, she exclaimed, “A-ha!”

As Valerie bent down to dig through the lower drawer. Didi was transfixed. Mom’s t-shirt had hiked its way up so that her bottom, the panties askew and one cheek almost fully uncovered, was now quite open to view.

Didi felt a warm pulsing in her missy. Then as her mom continued to rummage, she noticed a darker area in the middle, where the underwear had slipped. Was that… her butthole? Suddenly, Didi could barely breathe.

Valerie arose, holding two large candles in glass containers. “I knew I had these somewhere!” Her smile at Didi turned to a look of concern. “Are you okay, honey? You look kinda flushed.” Setting down the candles, she put a hand to her daughter’s forehead.

Didi swallowed. “No, I’m… it’s fine. I just got hot for a second.”

“Hmmm… maybe we’ve had enough beer for one night…”

“No!” Didi exclaimed, shaking her head. She smiled up at her mother. “I like it. I just felt a little warm right then. I’m fine.” She gently took her mother’s hand away from her face. “Really.” She held up her bottle. “This is an awesome birthday beer.”

Valerie grinned. “Right?” They clinked bottles and drank.

“Ahh!” Didi smacked her lips, then surreptitiously plucked at the crotch of her boxers. Jeez, she was really warm down there. “So, um, you were saying something about the two Ashleys…?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m being so spacy tonight! Okay, SO. They were both like, calling each other sluts, and they actually started fighting, I mean physically fighting, right down on the floor –”

“In those short little skirts…”

“Yes, in those little skirts, flashing their panties for the whole world to see–”

“I made out with Ashley Bristol, you know,” Didi tossed it off casually, followed by a sip of beer.

Valerie froze in mid-motion, the bottle halfway to her mouth. “WHAT?”

“Yup.”

“You made out with Ashley Bristol? When did this happen?”

“It was at the country club. You know, the Sunny Bay Club, around Christmas? That party?”

“The one the Berrigans threw, that’s right, for all the sixth and seventh graders. You made out with her?” Valerie scooted her stool back, jumped up and seated herself at the other end of the couch. “Tell me! You have to tell me everything. What happened? How–”

“They had this den, this playroom downstairs, and it was kinda dark, and there were a lot of people making out, you know, girls and boys, and girls and girls… and boys and boys. That’s what they did down there.”

“And?”

Didi raised her eyebrows. “And I’m telling you!” It was a big distraction, having Mom so close to her, sitting cross-legged on the sofa in t-shirt and panties. Suppressing the urge to stare, she adjusted her boxers again before resuming the story. “So, Ashley grabbed my hand when we were upstairs and pulled me down to this room –”

“She’s such a slut, that girl…” Valerie was leaning in, her eyes wide.

“And we sat on this sofa in the back, it was kind of, I don’t know, like humid. Funky, you know? And she goes, ‘You can feel my boobs’ –”

“Oh my God! Such a slut!” Valerie fell back on the arm of the couch, briefly flashing a glimpse of her dark pubes.

Didi shivered, but kept her voice steady as she continued to speak. “So, of course I did… and–”

Wait!” Her mom popped back up. “What did her boobs feel like?”

“Umm… kinda spongy, like–”

“Her bra was stuffed. Absolutely. Did it feel like it was stuffed?”

Didi heaved a big breath. “I don’t know, Mom, I don’t have a whole lot of experience with touching girls, you know?” She looked down at her own barely risen bumps.

Valerie held her gaze steady, then tilted her head. “No… of course you don’t.” She continued to look at her daughter, clearly pondering something.

Didi took a swallow of beer, then narrowed her eyes. Mom was smiling at her in a weird way. “What?”

Placing a warm hand on the girl’s knee, Valerie murmured, “Didi… is hers the only boob you’ve touched?”

“Ashley?” Her mother nodded. “Uh-huh. Just her.”

“So if you felt another breast… a real one this time… you might be able to tell the difference. Right?”

Didi felt a bit dizzy. “I guess…?”

“I think probably, yes.” Valerie scooted closer to her daughter. “Okay, then.” She gestured toward her own chest. “Put your hands on mine, and see how they feel.” Didi stared at her mother, paralyzed. “Go ahead. Think of it as… as an experiment. For a good cause.”

Didi hesitantly put out both hands – then paused, uncertain of herself. Valerie encouraged her. “It’s okay. Don’t be shy.”

Swallowing hard, Didi touched, then latched on to her mother’s breasts. Her eyes widened in awe. Such wonderful softness, so thick and full!

“Go ahead… squeeze them,” said Valerie.

Didi did just that. They were firm, yet oh so squeezable. She felt her little missy start to drip, but by then, she was past caring.

Valerie finally pulled away, carefully adjusting her shirt. Her nipples were quite evidently excited, all but visible through the light fabric. “Now… did Ashley’s breasts feel like that?” All Didi could do was shake her head vigorously. “I didn’t think so,” Valerie said with a smile, then took a swig from her bottle. “Is that all that happened with her? You made out, you said… right?”

Didi cleared her throat. “Umm, right. Right. But it was kinda gross.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… you know, I felt her boobs, and we started kissing, and at first it was okay, but then she started like, licking on me, like in my mouth, and she was… slobbering on me–”

Valerie winced. “Oh, no–”

“Yeah, I felt like she was trying to eat my face or something. It was really yucky.”

Stroking her daughter’s leg, Valerie murmured, “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry. Your first kiss should be… I don’t know, it should be wonderful–”

“Well, this one wasn’t.” Didi shuddered.

“That’s so sad… guess I was lucky. I had someone teach me who knew what they were doing.” She continued to absently stroke Didi’s leg from ankle to knee, losing herself in the memory. “It makes all the difference if your first kiss is with someone who’s especially good at it, and cares about you… my gosh, what a sexy experience…”

“Was it Dad?”

Valerie looked at her daughter blankly, as if she’d been daydreaming. “What?”

“Dad. Was it him that taught you to kiss?”

Taking her hand away from Didi’s leg, Valerie nervously toyed with her black hair. “No, this was… long before your father, this was…” She stood to retrieve her beer, then suddenly exclaimed. “I know! Let’s play Truth or Dare! You want to play?”

Didi furrowed her brow, concentrating. “Is that the game Madonna plays with her friends in that movie?”

“Truth or Dare. That’s the name of the movie.”

“And they play Truth or Dare. Right.” Didi took another swallow of beer.

“So? You want to?”

“Play the game? With you?”

Valerie was visibly excited, practically bouncing in place. “Yes, silly!”

Didi shrugged. “Okay. I guess.”

Valerie reached out to touch the girl’s cheek. “What’s wrong, honey? You don’t want to play?”

“No, it’s just… I mean, if I asked something, like, weird or wrong or something, you might get mad.”

“No, no – I wouldn’t get mad.”

Did frowned. “You say that…”

Quickly sitting down beside her daughter, Valerie murmured, “Didi.” She put a hand up, three fingers raised. “Scout’s honor. I will not get mad. In this game, there are no wrong questions. Or dares, or… whatever, okay?” She lightly slapped her thighs three times. “Tell you what. For the occasion of your birthday, our family room is hereby designated a No Mad Zone. Okay?”

Didi smiled. “Okay.”

“Good!” Valerie stood, and began pacing the room. “How to start, how to start…” She set her beer on the coffee table. “Rock, Paper, Scissors?”

“Sure.”

Valerie clenched her right hand in a fist, resting it in the left hand. “Ready?”

“Wait, wait, what happens? Who gets what if they win?”

Val’s hand dropped to her side. “No, it’s no one wins, it’s just–”

“I mean when you win Rock, Paper, Scissors – what happens then?”

“Oh. Then, you get to ask the question. Or, think up a dare.”

Didi nodded. “Okay.” She held out her hand. “Ready?”

“Oh, yeah.” Valerie was grinning. “Here we go. One, two, three!”

Didi held out a rock; her mother had gone with paper. Valerie laughed. “I win! Ha-haa!” She did a little bump-and-grind, singing,. “I won, I won, it’s your birth-day, but I won!”

Didi smiled in spite of herself. “Yeah, yeah, okay. So do it.”

Valerie studied the girl for a moment, narrowing her eyes. “So, will it be… truth? Or dare, my little lady?”

“Umm… truth?” Didi replied.

“A-haa… okay…” Once more, Valerie paced the room, like an old-time detective. “Hmm, hmm, hmmm…” Coming to an abrupt halt, she placed both hands on her hips. Didi thought her mother looked awesome, standing there in just her T-shirt and panties.

Folding her arms, Valerie fixed her daughter with a probing look. “Okay. Have you ever seen, or participated in, um… any activity of a sexual nature?” She flipped her hair back, pleased by her ability to come up with such an incisive question. “Remember, now…” She pointed at Didi. “…you must be absolutely truthful!”

Didi sat quietly, chewing her lower lip. “Activity of a sexual nature… whoa.” She looked up at her mom.

Valerie tilted her head. “Is this like, too weird? ‘Cause, you know–”

“No, no, it’s cool, I’m just… hmmm…” Her hand strayed to her boxers. “Like, anywhere? Any time? With, like, anyone else? Or just me? Or–”

“No, not just you, that’s… no. I mean, any activity from anyone else. Oh, and, not the internet. Real people only. Okay, then.” She sat on her stool, eager to hear whatever Didi had to say.

“Ohh-kaaay…” Didi was shaking her head, sifting through memories as she stared up at the ceiling. And it came to her. She quickly sat up. “Yes!”

“Yes?” her mom was a bit concerned. “What? Who?”

“I mean, it wasn’t me. But I did see it, so…”

Valerie’s mouth opened wide. “Yes! So tell me, tell me. Truth!” She hurried back to the other end of the couch, took a seat and leaned towards her daughter. “I’m all ears.”

“Okay, so… um…” Didi noticed her mother’s face had a rosy glow that went all the way down her neck, into her t-shirt. And her nipples were sticking. Straight. Out. She wanted to get a really good look, but managed to keep focused on her mother’s face. “So, you know how last year, on Tuesdays and Thursdays I always stashed my book bag in the art room? ‘Cause that was my last class, but I had to get to practice like, immediately?”

“Mmm-hmm, I remember.”

“Okay, so… one of those days I went back to get my bag after practice, and I heard this weird noise–”

“What kind of noise?”

“Like, kind of… like somebody was hurting? Or, trying to pick up something really heavy? I didn’t know, it was just… weird. So, you know how Mrs. Duval’s office has a window next to her door.”

“Yeah…”

“And there’s all this art stuff taped to it, so you can’t see through. But, like, a while back, I was in her office and I saw one of my projects, it was a bunch of turtles I drew.”

Valerie nodded. “Oh, sure, I remember those.”

“Yeah, so… I don’t know, I wanted to take one of those drawings with me, so I did. It was just a little one. But when I took it down, it made… well, there was this little space in the window.” The heat of the room and the scent of Mom’s perfume were making Didi a bit light-headed, but she soldiered on. “So I kept hearing this weird, like, crying sound. But not really crying, because sometimes it was talking, like… chanting or something. So I sneaked up to the window and peeked through where that turtle space used to be…”

Valerie grabbed her daughter’s leg. “AND?”

“And… I saw Mrs. Duval on her couch, and she was sitting with her legs spread wide open, her dress was way up over her stomach, and she was like, completely naked under there–”

“Oh my gosh–”

“–and she was just, like, rubbing and rubbing herself–”

“Her cootchie?”

“Yeah, digging her fingers inside, and then rubbing… and she was so hairy, like, tons of hair…”

Valerie stared at her daughter, her mouth open and breathing heavily. She swallowed. “So… is she really a redhead?”

Didi gave a weak smile. “Oh, yeah, it was all red hair down there. Maybe some other colors, too, but… yeah, really red. Her, um, cootchie was red, too.”

“Ohh, my, gosh…” Valerie slumped back against the plush arm of the couch. Her knees were up and her legs scissored in and out as she began to giggle. “Oh my gosh…” Her giggling grew into laughter. “Betsy Duval! Rubbin’ one out! Oh my GOSH!” She took a swig of beer, then almost spit it out in another spasm of mirth. “Oh! Oh! that is so amazing!” Setting her bottle on the coffee table, she jumped to her feet and started hopping up and down. “Mrs. Prim Betsy, jilling in the office! TOO funny!”

“What’s jilling?” Didi asked, furrowing her brow.

“Ohh, honey, it’s like… what do boys call it when they, um, masturbate? Jacking off?”

Didi shook her head.

“Well, that’s what they call it. So… Jack and Jill! Boys jack off, girls jill off! Get it?”

“Ahhhh…” Didi was enthralled by her mom’s excitement, her energy. “I never heard that.”

“Well, no, I should hope not.” Reaching for her beer, Valerie took another gulp. “Man, oh man… I will never be able to look at Betsy Duval the same way ever again. Hah!” She pressed a hand to her panty front. “Ooh, I have to pee. Your turn next!” And she hustled, a bit clumsily, to the bathroom.

Didi settled back with her feet up on the sofa, considering her choices. A dare – that’s what she really wanted to go for. A very specific dare. But could she really ask her mom to do something like that? Well,  Mom did want me to talk about sex stuff, after all. Maybe that meant this was a good time to be bold herself, to take this game of Truth or Dare into uncharted territory. It still seems weird, though, thinking about Mom that way. But also really, really interesting. Hmmm…

Soon to come: Part Two!