The Story Thus Far
Chapter 1: In which Sarah and Frankie peruse some rather risqué entertainment, then get intimately acquainted with a pair of soiled undies. Who says staying at home on weekends is boring?
Chapter 2: In which Kerry comes home, the Panty Fairy pays a visit, Sarah confides in her sister Judy, Kerry catches a whiff of pussy on Mummy’s fingers, and plans are made to let Kerry watch Sarah and Frankie have sex. Goodness me!
Chapter 3: In which Sarah and Kerry’s pussy-smelling game escalates, Sarah has a quick diddle in the school carpark, and Sarah and Frankie put their unorthodox sex education lesson into motion. Oh, and a traumatised teddy bear called Mr. Ruffles.
Chapter 4: In which smelling becomes tasting, and a visit to the bird sanctuary turns into an afternoon of naughty panty-modeling fun with Sarah, Judy and five-year-old Izzy. Bloody hell, now sister and niece are in on the act!
Chapter 5: In which poor Mr Ruffles suffers more teddy abuse, Sarah and Kerry’s kinky game goes one step further, and Judy pops round for coffee with little Izzy. A shared lollipop leads to more sharing. Appalling!
by BlueJean
1
Frankie and I didn’t talk much afterward about what happened when Judy and Izzy visited; how we’d teamed up on my five-year-old niece, drawn her into our sordid little sex game. I guess we were each trying to process it in our own way. Or maybe we both knew it was a spell that could easily be broken with a careless word.
Did we regret what happened? Frankie didn’t. She was oblivious to everything but her own impulses. To her, implications and consequences were things that happened to other people. I used to find her laid-back attitude rather endearing until I saw it from another angle. Until I realised it looked very much like someone putting their conscience to one side whenever it suited them.
And me? Well, I suppose I was doing much the same as Frankie, in my own way. To me, these fits of perversion were singular events rather than individual parts of one big, troublesome issue, enacted then discarded like so much baggage, safely filed under ‘Never To Be Repeated’. Until I moved on to the next episode.
No, we didn’t speak of that afternoon, but it was always there, hanging over us. Too big to address, too big to ignore.
When Frankie and I were out shopping and we spied a cute little girl who bore a passing resemblance to Izzy, we’d share a knowing look and a smirk. When we lay on the bed watching Frankie’s more risqué porn, we’d always gravitate towards the videos that most resembled our encounter with Izzy – three sexually deviant ladies, add one adorable little girl, preferably younger than six, sit back; enjoy. Sounds like a fucking cocktail, doesn’t it?
Frankie continued to pay infrequent visits to the dark web, seeking more illicit material for us to watch. To hear her talk about it, you’d think she was a commando infiltrating an enemy base. “Get in, download what you need, then get the hell out,” she’d tell me. “Stick to the places you know, don’t waste time exploring, avoid unnecessary risks.”
It soon became apparent that the good underage porn was few and far between, especially the all-female variant. Most were of abysmal quality, amateurish, or both at once. A lot of the more professional fare was clearly produced solely to turn a profit, and about as erotic as being bludgeoned over the head with a giant dildo. I was alarmed to discover myself becoming quite the connoisseur.
“Click on that one,” I told Frankie one late Friday evening, pointing to the thumbnails on her laptop. The two of us were in bed naked.
“Which?” Frankie asked.
“The, er… it looks like… a woman going down on a little girl?”
“This one?”
“Yeah.” It was another grainy, cheapjack affair, but I knew right away that it was the real deal. “You see the look on her face?”
“The woman or the girl?”
“Both, actually, but I mean the woman. See the way she pulls back every now and then to look at the kid’s pussy? The need in her eyes? That’s pure lust. You can’t fake it.”
“The girl’s into it, too. The way she keeps stroking her mum’s hair and smiling.”
“Yeah. Too many of these videos have kids that’re like lifeless mannequins.”
Frankie made a face. “Eww, don’t say that. It almost makes me feel bad for watching them.”
“Well, we should feel bad, shouldn’t we? We don’t know what kind of life those girls—”
“Stop!”
“What?”
“Don’t start with all that crap. It’s pointless. I just wanna frig myself to this stuff, not fucking analyse it.”
I was a bit taken aback by her outburst. Frankie’s normally so nonchalant about everything, at times disturbingly so. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I told her haughtily. “I’ll just shut up and masturbate, shall I?”
Frankie deflated a little. “Be a nice girl and stick some fingers in me.”
I obliged. “Aww, it’s finished already. Why so short?”
Frankie gave a shrug. “Dunno. I’ll play it again.”
“There has to be better quality stuff out there somewhere,” I mused as I fucked Frankie with my fingers.
She slipped a hand between my legs. “If there is, I doubt it’s on the internet.”
“Why?”
“Because unless you’re doing it for the money, why risk putting kiddy porn where everyone can see it? I’m sure a lot of this stuff just ended up getting leaked. There’s probably better videos out there that get passed around between secret groups and never come close to being on the net.”
“God, we’re idiots,” I said. “We should’ve got our phones out and filmed all that stuff with Judy and Izzy.”
“We were all kind of caught up in the moment, weren’t we?” Frankie pointed out. “But yeah, that would’ve been hot as hell to watch right now.”
We’d filmed ourselves having sex a few times, but trying to stay in the phone’s line of sight was a pain in the arse, and the resulting footage ended up being pretty crappy. We still have a video of a threesome with Judy somewhere, and that turned out a little better because at least there was always someone to hold the phone.
I pulled my fingers from Frankie and licked them clean.
Frankie pouted. “Um, excuse me. I’m not done yet.”
“Are you able to come quietly?” I asked.
She looked at me blankly. “That’s the most bizarre question you’ve ever asked me. I’m not that loud, am I?”
I climbed from the bed, pulling Frankie with me. “Follow me. Just don’t make any noise.”
We padded naked across to Kerry’s room. Not such a big deal, you might think – it was Friday night, and since discovering this new kink, we’d had a few weekend adventures in my daughter’s bedroom while she was away at her dad’s.
Except tonight was a little different. You see, Kerry had decided to stay home with me and Frankie. And right then she was curled up in bed fast asleep.
2
Kerry was a heavy sleeper. I think most kids her age are. They tend to sink into that deep, almost catatonic slumber that only becomes attainable to adults via excessive units of alcohol.
I quietly pushed open her bedroom door, the light from the landing gently illuminating the room. Kerry was belly-down amidst a chaotic nest of quilt and pillows, the duvet kicked away from her body, leaving her mostly uncovered. I put a finger to my lips and ushered Frankie inside.
We tiptoed over to the bed, where I gave Frankie my best I’m going to do something wicked look, then hooked my fingers into the waistband of Kerry’s pyjama bottoms, pulling them down as slowly and carefully as I could.
Kerry stirred briefly, bringing an arm up to slide beneath a pillow. Frankie and I froze like two deer caught in headlights, breathing sighs of relief when Kerry settled down again. I pulled her jammies down even further.
I mean, it wouldn’t exactly have been a catastrophe if Kerry had woken up right then – I could’ve just told her we’d come in to say goodnight, and I doubt she would’ve given it much thought. Okay, she might have briefly wondered why her pyjama bottoms were halfway down, but she’s an eight-year-old girl, not Inspector Sodding Morse. Honestly, she probably wouldn’t have pursued the matter.
So with my daughter’s jammies round her knees and her bare bottom conveniently illuminated by the bar of light from the doorway, I stood next to Frankie and slipped a hand between my legs. Frankie followed my lead, fingers pressed into her sex.
“What do you want to do to her?” I whispered to my girlfriend.
“Huh?”
“Kerry. Tell me what you’d like to do.”
Frankie turned back to Kerry, licking her lips. “I want to touch that lovely bum.”
“What else?”
“I wanna kiss it. I want to spread those cheeks open and stick my tongue in her arsehole and pussy.” Frankie gave me an imploring look. “Can I?”
I shook my head slowly. “We don’t want to wake her up, do we? What I’d really like is to see you come on her arse. Will you do that for me?”
Frankie took another step until she was pressed up against the bed. She thrust her hips out towards Kerry’s bare bottom, then began pumping two fingers inside herself, the other hand working her clit. I could hear how wet she was, but we both knew it was just a prelude.
“Yeah, that’s it, squirt on my little girl,” I purred in Frankie’s ear, knowing my filthy words would bring her off that much quicker. “Think about all the nasty things we did with Izzy, then imagine it’s Kerry. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“Fuck, Sarah,” Frankie whimpered. “I like the new you, I really do.”
“Shhh. Don’t you wake my little angel up.”
I stepped back to take in the full depravity of the scene – Frankie hunched over the bed, mauling her cunt while my little girl slept on.
Oh, it was bad. Believe me, I knew that. Ugly and wrong, maybe the worst thing I’d done so far because Kerry was asleep, which made this a blatant violation of trust. But I just couldn’t bring myself to make Frankie stop. I wanted to see what it looked like, my girlfriend squirting her spend over my daughter.
“Come on her, Frankie,” I hissed. “I’m only ever going to let you do this once, so you better make it good.”
Frankie suddenly went steel-rigid, fingers splaying her cunt open while she subjected her clit to a frenzied attack. She gave a low, desperate groan, then sprayed Kerry’s buttocks and part of her lower back with her fluids. She clamped a hand over her mouth, throes of ecstasy racking her hunched form. The last few drops splashed onto Kerry’s bum, Frankie’s arse clenching and unclenching as she rode out her orgasm.
“Oh, you filthy bitch,” I cooed, tracing a finger down the curve of my lover’s spine. “How many mothers would let their girlfriend squirt over their little girl? Aren’t you the lucky one?”
I trailed a finger through the wetness on Kerry’s bottom, then bent down to gently kiss a soft bum cheek before carefully pulling her pyjamas back up.
Kerry opened her eyes and peered at me without any real awareness. “Why’d you wake me, Mummy?” she murmured.
I kissed her on the cheek. “Shhh. Go back to sleep, Peanut.”
3
On Saturday, with Kerry at home for a change, Judy and I decided to take the kids out for a picnic in the forest. There were some lovely enclosures about a half hour drive away, and while they weren’t exactly a secret, few enough people knew about them to ensure relative peace and quiet.
Frankie said she was going to stay at home and catch up on some work.
“Sure you don’t want to come?” I asked her. “There’ll be sausage rolls. And wine.”
“And sex?”
I looked at her blankly. “Huh?”
Kerry was playing outside in the garden. Frankie gestured at her through the kitchen window, then gave me an impish look. “You know… sex.”
Here’s the thing: I thought I could draw very clear lines in the sand. I thought I could be two different people – responsible mother one day, sexual deviant the next, and that somehow one wouldn’t impact the other.
There were no lines, of course. They were a figment of my imagination. It’s just that right then I still needed them.
I rolled my eyes at Frankie, because that’s what you do when you’re convinced you know better than everyone else. Except, in her innocent, child-like way, Frankie was far closer to the truth than I knew. “We’re hardly going to be having sex in a public place, you perv. It’s just a picnic for the kids. Are you coming or not?”
Frankie hooked both hands on her hips and tried to look tough. “Do I look like picnic material to you? I am way too rock ‘n roll for all that twee Famous Five bullshit.”
“Oh. My. God,” I gasped. “You’re a picnic snob!”
“Call it what you want, girlfriend. Frankie don’t do no motherfuckin’ picnic.”
“You’re a picnic snob and you talk about yourself in the third person. I don’t know if I can be your girlfriend anymore.”
Frankie crossed her arms defiantly. “Ain’t doin’ no picnic.”
We went without her. ‘Cause Frankie don’t do no motherfuckin’ picnic.
4
“Slow down, you’ll run out of forest!” I hollered to Kerry and Izzy as they scouted ahead of us.
We’d found ourselves a nice secluded spot to explore and have our picnic. I carried the hamper, while Judy had the obligatory chequered blanket slung over a shoulder. Kerry and Izzy raced down the little paths that snaked through the woods as my sister and I tried our best to keep up.
“We should’ve got them to leave a trail of breadcrumbs,” Judy joked.
“Let’s hope they don’t run into a wicked witch.”
Judy put her arm through mine. “Who needs wicked witches when they have two wicked mothers?”
“Is that what we are? Wicked?”
My sister gave me a sheepish look. “I’m pretty sure engaging in sexual activity with your pre-pubescent children is generally frowned upon.”
“Well, yeah… but it’s fun to be wicked, isn’t it?”
“It won’t be so much fun if it all comes back to bite us on the bum. I’m worried we might be headed for trouble, Sarah.”
I felt my jaw tighten. Now I was beginning to understand how Frankie felt when she had to listen to me tying myself in knots about all the awful things we’d been getting up to. “Well, no one made you touch her, Judy. You can stop any time you like.”
“I’m not sure I can, actually. I like it too much to stop.” Judy lowered her voice, presumably in case any trees were eavesdropping. “I licked Izzy’s pussy again. Read her a bedtime story, then pulled her jammies down and had a quickie. Marco was downstairs listening to Michael Bublé. He likes Michael Bublé.”
I gave her a disgusted look. “What the hell is wrong with him? Michael Bublé’s utter shite. His songs use auto-tune, for Christ’s sake, and I’m not talking about artistic licence here, I mean the bad kind of auto-tune, the I’m-not-quite-hitting-those-notes kind. Frank Sinatra must be rolling in his grave.”
“I know, I know. I keep meaning to talk to him about it. Marco, I mean, not Michael Bublé. It’s not really my place to offer Michael Bublé advice. Are you still messing around with Kerry?”
“We are, but it’s not full-on. There are still lines I’m not sure I want to cross just yet.”
“Such as?”
I scratched my head, suddenly feeling awkward. “I haven’t really touched or licked her. I rubbed my pussy on her face, but I had my panties on.”
Judy gave a snort. “Er, I’m pretty sure that’s full-on, Sarah.”
“I had my knickers on,” I repeated, as if a thin layer of cotton between my pussy and my eight-year-old daughter’s face somehow made it okay. Pathetic, I know.
Judy didn’t let up. “What else have you done with her?”
“Oh, just fed her pussy juice from my fingers a few times. And Frankie squirted on her bum last night when she was asleep. Just small stuff like that.”
An incredulous Judy shook her head at me.
“What?”
“You’re completely in denial, aren’t you?”
“Hardly. I’m just trying to tread carefully. See what we can get away with.”
God, that sounded so bad once it was out of my mouth. And I really wasn’t treading carefully, at all, was I? No, I was stomping around like some sex-crazed giantess, crushing everything in my path. I mean, having sex with Izzy while Judy watched wasn’t exactly ‘small stuff’, was it? Or did I think that somehow it didn’t count because it wasn’t my little girl I was fucking?
“I get so hot when I think about you and Frankie doing stuff to Izzy,” Judy gushed, as if she knew what I was thinking. “Watching that was such a turn-on.”
“We’re going to hell, aren’t we?” I said.
“If it’s a hell where we can make love to little girls for eternity, maybe it’s not such a bad place,” my sister decided with a shrug.
Leaving it at that, we sought out the girls. Kerry and Izzy were standing on a little wooden bridge, throwing sticks into the water below.
“I saw a fish!” Izzy squealed.
Judy leaned against the wooden rail. “I’m sure they appreciate having tree trunks thrown at them.”
“I don’t think we hit any, Aunt Judy,” Kerry assured her.
We explored for an hour or two, managing to get ourselves lost in the process, then found ourselves back at the car. We laid the blanket down in the shade of a huge oak tree, then set about enjoying our picnic.
Kerry and I had made sausage rolls and bacon and brie sandwiches, and Judy had brought some little lemon cakes she claimed to have made herself, although I suspect Mr. Kipling might have had something to say about that. My sister and I sipped low alcohol sparkling wine, while the girls enjoyed some cloudy lemonade.
“Well, this is nice,” I said, swatting an inquisitive bee away.
“Yeah, it is,” Judy agreed. “You enjoying yourselves, girls?”
Izzy and Kerry nodded their approval. Izzy was devouring a sausage roll, and Kerry was trying to imitate me and my sister by daintily sipping her lemonade like it was a fine wine. “We put fennel seeds in the sausage rolls, Aunt Judy,” she informed my sister.
“How decadent!” Judy gasped.
“Where’s the sun gone?” I pondered, noticing some ominous looking clouds gathering overhead. We’d barely tucked into our picnic when the heavens opened up.
“Bloody hell, where did that come from?!” Judy flapped.
“Rain comes from the clouds, Mummy!” Izzy explained.
The four of us scrambled to pack away the food and blankets as fast as we could. By the time we’d thrown it all into the boot of my car and taken refuge inside, we were all soaked through.
“I’m totally drenched!” gasped Kerry from the backseat.
“I’m totally drenched!” squealed Izzy, imitating her older cousin.
Luckily, we’d brought some towels with us, in case the kids wanted to paddle in the streams. I threw them in the back and told Kerry and Izzy to dry themselves off as best they could. Both girls stripped down to their panties and wrapped the towels around themselves.
Judy pointed her phone at them and snapped a photo. “We have two soggy little stowaways in the back!”
Kerry pulled her towel open. “Take another one, Aunt Judy.”
Judy snapped another picture while Izzy copied her cousin and let her towel fall away from her boyish chest. “Take one of me too, Mummy!”
Kerry whispered something to Izzy and the two girls shared a giggle. They gave each other a nod, then pulled their knickers to one side, exposing themselves to us.
“What rude little girls!” I gasped and took another picture.
“How do I do the zoom?” Judy asked me, so I showed her how to ‘do the zoom’. Judy homed in on their pussies to get a couple of close-up shots. She showed me the picture, clearly pleased with herself.
I nodded approvingly. “Send it to Countryfile. They might use it for their calendar.”
“Girls, put a hand between each other’s legs and I’ll take another picture,” Judy said.
“Like this, Izzy,” Kerry told her cousin, and planted a hand on Izzy’s pussy.
Izzy reached across and did the same to Kerry.
“Now smile,” I said.
The girls did their best smiles for the camera. Judy took a few shots, and I snapped a couple of my own.
The sound of a dog barking outside made me and Judy start. I told the girls to quickly cover themselves. Luckily, the car windows were all steamed up, so anyone lurking outside wouldn’t have been able to see much.
I keyed the ignition and put the fan on to clear the glass. There was another car parked a few yards away.
“Let’s go home and get dried off,” Judy said, but there was something significant in the way she said it. It was like looking at the twelve-year-old version of my sister, the tone of her voice, that hungry look she used to give me. And the words weren’t so different from the ones she’d used back then:
Let’s borrow one of Dad’s magazines, Sarah. Let’s go into the bathroom and lock the door. We can do that thing again.
5
Back at my sister’s place, I bundled everyone’s wet clothes into the tumble dryer. Judy let me borrow some lounge pants and a t-shirt, but Kerry persuaded her cousin that the two of them should just hang out in their panties. It soon became obvious why.
“Aunt Judy, will you take some more pictures of us?” my daughter asked as we sat in the lounge.
“You’re such an exhibitionist,” I told her.
Kerry furrowed her brow. “What does that mean?”
“Your mum’s calling you a showoff,” Judy explained.
“Okay, I guess… but will you?”
My sister gave me a shrug. “I don’t see the harm in a few photos. What do you think, Mummy?”
“What if Marco comes back?” I said.
“He plays golf on Saturdays. He’s gone most of the day.”
“In the rain?”
“They have a bar. But we should probably take it upstairs, just in case.”
The girls bounded up the stairs in front of us. We found them in Izzy’s bedroom, sprawled out on her bed. Judy held up her phone. “Strike a pose!”
Kerry put both arms behind her head, then finished off the pose with a sassy little pout. Izzy tried to imitate her cousin, but ended up looking more like a startled goldfish. Judy prowled the foot of the bed, capturing the moment shot by shot.
“Shall we take our knickers off?” an eager Kerry asked as she climbed from the bed, fingers already poised at the waistband.
“Leave them on for the moment,” I told her, distracted by the sound of car tyres on gravel outside.
“What’s up?” Judy asked.
“Is that Marco pulling into your driveway? Shit, I think it is.”
“It’s next door, for heaven’s sake! Will you just relax, Sarah? He’s not going to catch us at it.”
Catch us at it. If we were still within the boundaries of an innocent, albeit risqué, photoshoot with our children, I had a feeling Judy wasn’t planning to keep it that way. Regardless, I tried to put my worries to one side. Mostly because I was feeling horny as fuck.
“Izzy, stand in front of Kerry,” My sister said. Izzy bounced from the bed to follow her instructions. “Now, Kerry, I want you to put your hands over Izzy’s nipples. Yeah, just like that.”
“Cute,” I admitted, and we both snapped off more shots.
I knelt down to get a better angle, fancying myself quite the fashion photographer. “Okay, stay like that, girls. Kerry, I want you to kiss Izzy’s neck.”
Kerry planted a quick peck on her cousin’s nape.
“No, silly – you need to keep your lips there, so we can get it in the picture.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Kerry made another attempt, her lips lingering this time. Izzy giggled as Judy and I took some more pics.
Next, we had the two of them facing one another on all fours upon the bed, lips meeting in an adorable kiss.
Snap.
Then Kerry was sitting on the edge of the bed with Izzy in her lap.
“Pull your knickers up around your waists, girls,” Judy said. “Now spread your legs nice and wide. Ooh, so naughty!”
The thin cotton was moulded around their puffy mounds, two tantalising slits clearly visible.
Snap.
By then, I knew full well where this was going. Judy did, too. There was no stopping it now; no desire to even try. Fashion photographers? No. Child pornographers.
“Kerry?” I heard myself say.
“Yeah?”
“Put your hand between Izzy’s legs. That’s good. Izzy, look up at Kerry and give her a little smile. Perfect. Hold it there…”
Snap snap.
“Slip your fingers into Izzy’s knickers, Kerry,” Judy said. “Just an inch or two.”
Snap snap.
“Now all the way inside. Close your eyes and pretend you’re enjoying it, Izzy.”
“I am enjoying it,” Izzy insisted. “But if Kerry moves her hand around, it would feel nicer.”
“It’s okay to touch Izzy for real, Kerry,” Judy told my daughter. “Make her feel good.”
“I thought we were just doing poses,” Kerry replied with a smirk, then began moving her hand up and down beneath the pink cotton of Izzy’s undies.
Snap snap snap.
Then it was time for the panties to come off.
We had Kerry stand up on the bed while Izzy knelt below her and slowly pulled her cousin’s knickers down.
Two inches. The tease of my eight-year-old’s puffy pubis.
Snap.
Another inch. The beginning of her slit.
Snap snap.
And another. The delicate gossamer petals of her labia.
Snap snap snap.
Then Judy was telling her little girl to kiss Kerry’s mound, and just like that, Izzy’s lips were pressed against her older cousin’s vagina.
Next, we had them reverse positions, telling Kerry to peel down Izzy’s panties with her teeth. It took her a few tries, but she finally managed it. Then we got them to kneel on the bed with their knickers round their knees, cupping each other’s bums while they kissed with tongues, both giggling at the absurdity of it.
Judy and I shared a look. Lust, apprehension, excitement; the merest hint of shame.
“Are we okay?” I asked my sister. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah. I think so,” Judy said. “I’m having fun, anyway. We should take more pics. Dirtier ones.”
“Let’s make a movie,” I suggested, switching from photo to video. Judy did the same.
We filmed the girls as they fondled each other for a while, but Judy clearly wanted to spice things up. “Izzy, get on your hands and knees. No, facing away from us, poppet. That’s it. Kerry, will you kiss Izzy’s bum for us? Oh, that’s so sexy. Keep doing that. Wait; move your head to the side a bit, so we can see what you’re doing. Perfect!”
“Stick your tongue out and lick her bum cheek every now and then,” I chipped in.
Kerry pursed her lips into a bit of a pout. “Can’t I pick some things to do?” she asked us.
“Of course you can, sweetie,” Judy told her. “Show us how rude you can be.”
Kerry’s eyes lit up into mischievous beacons. “Okay! Izzy, you lay back on the carpet and spread your legs open.”
Izzy got down on the carpet and slung her legs apart. Kerry squatted over her face, pussy lips prised open.
“My goodness,” Judy near-whispered. “I think I need to get these knickers off.” My sister shucked off her jeans and panties, a hand quickly finding its way between her thighs. “Izzy, be a good girl and give your cousin’s truffle a nice lick. Squat down just a little lower, Kerry.”
Izzy flicked her tongue out and tasted Kerry’s pussy. Kerry drew in a sudden gasp of breath, a delighted grin illuminating her face. “That feels really nice!”
“I know how to lick truffles ‘cause I licked Frankie’s,” Izzy blurted.
A wry exchange passed between Judy and I. Kerry had no idea about the naughty things we’d been getting up to with her cousin, of course. I think I preferred to keep it that way for now.
“Uh, what?” a bemused Kerry snorted. “No, you didn’t! Just lick me some more, Izzy. Then I’ll lick you, okay?”
My pussy was throbbing like crazy. I followed Judy’s lead and slipped out of my lounge pants and knickers, then went to work on my clit while I filmed the children.
“Will you lick mine now, Kerry?” Izzy asked her older cousin.
Kerry looked to my sister for approval. “Can I, Aunt Judy?”
“How about we have you both lick one another at the same time?” Judy suggested, giving me a sly look.
I smiled back, because I knew exactly what she was thinking. “You want to see them do a sixty-nine?”
“Yeah. Don’t you?”
Instead of answering her, I patted the bed. “Lie on your back here, Peanut.”
Kerry straightened to her feet and fell back onto the bed with a laugh.
I folded to my knees next to Izzy, moving my phone down her body until I was focused on the smooth crease nestled between her thighs. I wanted to put my mouth there, explore her with my tongue, but not with Kerry present. I wasn’t ready to do that with my daughter watching, mindful not to foster any kind of jealousy or resentment. “Come and lie on top of Kerry, cutie,” I told my niece softly, running my fingers through her dark hair. “I’ll show you how.”
After a brief explanation and some minor adjustments, Judy and I watched, utterly captivated, as our daughters licked one another. Judy switched back to photos and took a few shots from different angles. Having done that, she quietly put her phone down on the windowsill, leant back against the wall and jammed two fingers into her cunt, aggressively fucking herself.
I slid a hand across Izzy’s bare back, then leaned in to kiss Kerry on the brow. “Spread her bum cheeks open,” I whispered to my daughter. “Yeah, just like that. Taste her. You’re doing such a good job, Peanut. Mummy’s going to film you for a while now.” I moved to the opposite end of our little girls’ entanglement and kissed Izzy on the cheek. I could smell my daughter’s sex, subtle but intoxicating. “Keep licking, Izzy.”
I stepped back and concentrated on filming the obscene spectacle, moving around the girls to get at it from various angles, frequently zooming in to get close-up shots of little tongues gliding over baby-smooth pussies. My free hand pressed into the hot, moist nest of my sex.
Judy was still fingering herself hard and fast, her face set in a decidedly unmotherly snarl. “Fuck,” she hissed, and, “Lick those sweet pussies,” and, “Good girls,” and, “Oh my God, Sarah,” and, “I’m going to come!”
My sister’s knees buckled, and she slid down the wall into a squat. Her fingers popped free of her cunt, a gush of liquid spraying the carpet beneath her. “Urgh!”
Then Izzy was rolling off Kerry. “I’m bored of this game,” she declared haughtily. “And I need a wee.”
“So do I,” Kerry said.
Judy was still slumped against the wall, her eyes glazed over. I took the girls into the bathroom, told them to climb into the bathtub, and then persuaded them to piss on each other while I filmed them and masturbated.
What can I say? I was a lost cause by then.
Judy wouldn’t look me in the eye when we’d all dressed and made our way downstairs. That was okay. It had always been her way of dealing with things. Refuse to acknowledge it. Pretend it didn’t happen. Until the next time. Because there was always a next time with Judy.
6
Frankie was in the lounge painting her toenails when Kerry and I got back home. “How was your picnic?” she asked me.
I did my best to remain impassive. “It was a bit of a washout, to be honest. So we went back to Judy’s place for the afternoon.”
“Oh, sounds boring.”
“Not exactly,” I told her coyly. “Hey, you’re good at editing videos and stuff, right?”
“I’ve been known to tinker. Why do you ask?”
I handed her my phone. “I’ve got some videos and pictures of Izzy and Kerry playing. I transferred all the stuff Judy took onto my phone as well. Think you could do something with it?”
“I’ll have a go, but I’m not exactly Spielberg. Let me run over the footage while I have a pee.”
Frankie sauntered off to the bathroom, thankfully oblivious to the little smirk I was sporting.
Kerry wandered into the lounge, a glass of cola in one hand. “Hey, can I watch you and Frankie have sex again some time?” she asked casually, as if that were a perfectly normal request for an eight-year-old to make of her mother.
“Maybe,” I told her.
“I could film you this time, couldn’t I?”
“Mmm. Maybe.”
Yes. Another little sex education lesson. Something a bit dirtier this time, something a bit more… visceral. And more naughty games at breakfast, too. Maybe I’d have Kerry smell my pussy without my panties on. Or maybe it would be better to start doing that after school instead, when we had more time to enjoy ourselves. Frankie could join us, too. I wondered how Kerry would feel about watching some porn with us.
Tingling from head to toe, I drew Kerry towards me and wrapped myself round her exquisite young body, basking in the fresh and familiar scent she exuded. “You’re such a good girl” I murmured, trailing my fingers through her soft blonde curls. “I’m glad you’re back with us on weekends. We’re gonna have so much fun.”
“Holy fuuuck!” Frankie hollered from up in the bathroom. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What’s the matter with Frankie?” Kerry asked, frowning up at the ceiling.
I shrugged. “Must have dropped her phone down the toilet again.”
Soon to come: Chapter Seven!
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