Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Note from JetBoy: This is a new and extended version of a story posted here over a year ago. It got a mostly rapturous response, and deservedly so… though a goodly percentage of the readers openly wished for more, just as a fine meal sometimes leaves you wishing you’d had a larger portion. Well, author and Site Friend Jacqueline Jillinghoff elected to give her hungry public what it clamored for, and reworked her tale into this luscious expanded edition. Your Chief Editor was so delighted with the result that an executive decision was made to present this as a brand-new post, instead of simply swapping one version for another.
So don’t pass this one by, even if you’ve read it before. “Floor Show,” was well worth investigating the first time around, and it’s even better now.

by Jacqueline Jillinghoff

“Mom, this is Kimberly.”

“So this is Kimberly. It’s a pleasure to meet you at last.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” the little girl said, offering her fingers for a squeeze. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

The words sounded rehearsed, but she played the part well, speaking distinctly and looking me in the eye. I half-expected her to curtsey, and when that didn’t happen, I said, “You don’t need to be so formal. Please call me Vickie.”

“Thank you … Vickie.”

I hadn’t liked being called ma’am — I’m only twenty-eight — but I wasn’t sure about “Vickie,” either. It created a strange imbalance. It wasn’t that she was being overly familiar. It was that, strangely, I felt I was the one who was being forward, putting myself on a first-name basis with such a beautiful little girl.

And it was eerie, how beautiful she was. Her face was too mature-looking, as though some mad scientist had grafted the head of a nineteen-year-old onto the body of a skinny fifth-grader. She had a wide mouth, a broad forehead, and deep-set brown eyes that bored into me from under a pair of long, dark brows. Her hair was short and thick, like a skirt around her neck, held in place by a white headband embossed with three lace blossoms.

I made myself glance away before she caught me staring.

“Billie’s told me a lot about you,” I said.

In fact, my daughter had spoken of nothing but her new friend for weeks. I’d heard all about how cool and smart Kimberly was, how she played piano and oboe and her mother sang opera and they’d lived all over and even in Europe for a year and on and on. She was my daughter’s first big-girl crush, and here she was, making a personal appearance in our home. Billie had made it clear, well in advance, that I was to treat her like royalty.

What I found, though, beyond the unsettling good looks, was an ordinary kid who didn’t have much to say. Her answers to my questions, like that first greeting, sounded like she’d memorized them, or repeated them so often that they no longer interested her, and they never went beyond a few words. I couldn’t make up my mind whether she was hostile, empty-headed, or just shy.

I asked her where she had lived in Europe.

Brussels, she said.

Did she like it?

It was okay.

Did she learn any French?

A little.

Does she play piano in recital?

Sometimes.

Has she joined the band at school?

Not yet. But her mom wanted her to.

Why the oboe?

Her dad used to play it.

There it was. Used to. Past tense. So her father was out of her life, like Billie’s. They had that in common, at least.

These girls were inseparable. Literally. Billie leaned into Kimberly all through dinner, reaching for her hand under the table and swinging her leg, seeking Kimberly’s stockinged foot with her own. Kimberly didn’t encourage her, but she didn’t pull away, either. She simply accepted the attention as her due.

When the dishes were done, and we were playing Scrabble on the living room floor, the girls sat shoulder to shoulder. I told them to spread out, so they couldn’t see each other’s tiles, but after only a few moments apart, they would knock together again, like rowboats moored at a dock.

We were already dressed for bed. Billie sat cross-legged in her brief yellow nightie, which rode up her thighs, revealing the stark white crotch of her panties. My daughter’s a cute, freckle-faced kid with a gap-toothed smile, pale blue eyes, and a bob of fine, wheat-colored hair. What makes her my darling, though, is her outgoing nature. She laughed and chattered as we played, making up silly words entirely out of consonants (No, sweetie, “flsznk” is not in the dictionary) before she played for real.

Kimberly hardly spoke. Every so often, the corners of her mouth would draw back into a kind of vacant grin at something Billie said, but they reset at once as she studied the board, her chin on her knees. She certainly looked like visiting royalty, crowned with her white-lace blossoms and draped in an Old-World gown of shimmering green that hid everything but her toes.

I remember thinking, My daughter is in love with this girl — but only as much as one little girl could be in love with another. It was an innocent infatuation, and apparently one-sided. The notion that it might be anything more would have to be forced on me.

The game broke up when Billie got a triple word score and fifty bonus points for “pissing,” and a hail of giggles broke out. Kimberly finally caught the bug, showing her teeth (perfect, of course) for the first time. She threw an arm around Billie’s shoulders and kissed her on the cheek — quickly, as though she was afraid I’d notice. Billie blushed to the ears, the brown freckles on her nose turning white, but she clasped Kimberly in both arms and returned the kiss.

“All right,” I said. “Time for bed. Billie’s the champ. I don’t think we’re going to catch her.”

Kimberly stood up, and it seemed the evening had truly come to an end when her toes disappeared beneath the gown.

“May I use your bathroom?” she asked.

“Of course you may.”

While she was off brushing and peeing, Billie and I put the game away and picked up the snack bowls and glasses. The girls had been drinking orange soda. I’d had some chilled pinot grigio. Maybe it was the wine, but the surge of affection for my daughter was genuine. I grabbed her impulsively and held her to my breasts.

“It’s so sweet, what you’re doing,” I said.

“What?”

“That poor girl doesn’t have any friends, does she?”

“She doesn’t talk to anybody.”

“Well, it’s wonderful you’re reaching out to her. You’re a special person, and I love you.”

“Mo-om!”

“Oh, stop. Let me kiss you.”

Billie and I live in a one-bedroom apartment, which is all I can afford at the moment. She sleeps on the fold-out in the living room, or with me when we’re too tired to pull out the bed. Tonight there was no discussion: Billie went straight for the sofa, tearing at the cushions with a will. She and her guest would share the convertible, and Mom would discreetly get lost.

Kimberly helped lay out the covers and arrange the pillows. Her regal bearing had returned, her moment of hilarity forgotten. She moved slowly, and sometimes, when she turned or leaned over, the contours of her thighs or her bottom rose briefly beneath the surface of her gown.

When I left them, they were lying on opposite sides of the bed, like twin effigies, with the sheets tight across their chests and their hands folded modestly over their hearts.

“Good night now,” I said.

I kissed Billie on the forehead and, still sorry for Kimberly, and worried she might be feeling left out, I circled the bed and kissed her, too. I expected her to pull away, or at least lie there passively, the way kids do when they’re subjected to unwanted attention. After all, I was a stranger who had no business tucking her in, but to my surprise, she shot up from the pillow and kissed me hard on the corner of the mouth, clutching the back of my neck. The move was so abrupt it felt desperate.

“Thank you for letting me stay over,” she said.

“Oh, honey, you’re welcome. We’re happy to have you.”

“’Night, Mom.”

“Good night, Vickie.”

“Sleep well, you two,” I said. “Don’t stay up too late talking.”

That last was a vain formality. The whole point of a sleepover is for little girls to laugh and gossip long after the lights go out, and I expected they’d keep me up for a while.

To say I wasn’t disappointed would be, well, an understatement.

The chatter began as soon as I lay down in my room. Billie’s voice came through strongly, though I couldn’t make out the words. Kimberly’s was no more than a sporadic murmur. Billie laughed out loud. There was a distinct shhh, followed by a rushed sentence that contained the words “your mom.” Kimberly whispered something, and I heard Billie say No! emphatically, and then, Really?

The whispers went on, punctuated with giggling and shushing, and each time I made out Kimberly’s voice, the image of her toes appeared to me in the dark. Ten pretty toes, peeping from beneath the green gown in a perfect curve, like pearls on a lace fan. Absently, I slipped a hand into my pajamas. And I saw the double cabochon of her ass, pressing up beneath the jade-colored satin. Ah.

My pajama bottoms had to come off, or they’d get soggy and stick to me all night. I unbuttoned my top, too, to give my nipples some standing room. Then I listened again for the hushed voices. They seemed fainter, but the words were clearer — words like please and how and want to — or maybe I was only imagining them, the way I imagined Kimberly’s sensuous mouth. Oh. And the joyous kiss she gave my daughter. Oh! And the imploring kiss she’d given me …

Fuck.

The orgasm balled me up tight, then ratcheted me down an inch at a time. It was a quiet one — it would have to be, under the circumstances — but I couldn’t remember the last time a climax had soaked so deeply into my bones. I lay there warm and weak, a puddle of post-masturbatory languor.

But once my head cleared, I had to wonder why. I had never come thinking of a girl so young. My fantasy women had always been age-appropriate. Something about this child, though — her stunning face, her sadness, or maybe just her pretty toes — had touched me. Unfortunate word choice, but there’s no other way to say it.

Of course, I could never betray my daughter. Kimberly was Billie’s special friend, not mine. Still, there was no harm in fantasy, was there? I could picture her a little longer while I tugged on my nipples and squeezed my clit between my fingers.

I was preoccupied, to say the least, and only gradually began to suspect something was off. I stopped teasing myself and listened in the dark. The girls were quiet enough in there — but that was just it. They were quiet. Were they asleep already? It hadn’t taken me that long to come. Billie had been so giddy when she went to bed, it was hard to believe she’d settled down so soon. Maybe Kimberly’s self-restraint was rubbing off on her.

I kept an ear out for any small sound, and finally I heard one — the sofa-bed creaked. Then nothing. Okay, I thought, they’ve called it a night. Now I wouldn’t have to work so hard to muffle my orgasms, and I was sure there’d be at least one more. With my pussy simmering under my fingers, it would be no time at all before —

“Huh!”

The cry came from the living room. It was Billie. She sounded hurt. Kimberly went shhhh, and Billie said something back. Now she sounded fine. Probably went to the kitchen and stubbed her toe on the way back. No use playing mother hen and embarrassing her, and besides, my pussy still needed attention. I circled my clit, raising a soft scratching sound from my pubes, and let out a contented sigh.

Except that I didn’t. The sigh wasn’t mine. It had come from the living room. My hand froze, and I tensed up, straining to listen. There it was again — it sounded like Kimberly. She hummed a little, too, as though she was sampling a yummy dessert.

The girls’ voices rose. They shushed each other and went on quietly. The bed squeaked again — not once, but repeatedly — and I distinctly heard Kimberly say, in a delirious stage whisper, “I like it!”

What did she like?

Shhh, Billie cautioned her, and the whispers stopped.

This wasn’t the silly bedtime chatter of two little girls. What it was, I couldn’t allow myself to guess.

The room spun as I stood up. I had to lean against the bedroom door to steady myself. I took a breath, waiting for the dizziness to pass, and buttoned my pajama top. The bottoms were somewhere, untraceable in the dark. It didn’t matter. Checking up on the girls would only take a second. They wouldn’t have enough time or enough light to notice my thatch.

The sofa-bed was in the middle of the living room, pointed toward the little balcony my landlord advertises as a life-enhancing amenity. The vertical blinds stood half open, and the distant lights from the parking lot and the buildings across the courtyard were just enough to see by.

I came up behind, looming over the girls’ heads, and looked down.

The covers were heaped at the far end of the bed. Beneath me, two dim figures huddled together with only a thin shadow between them. The larger figure was turned toward the smaller one, who lay on her back with her eyes shut and her dark lips thrust forward.

Details grew more distinct as I watched. I made out the round whiteness of the larger girl’s shoulder, and her outstretched arm, which ended where the smaller girl’s legs were parted. And at last, a spot of motion: the larger girl’s knuckles, flashing in a scalloped ridge one instant, dipping and vanishing the next, again and again and again.

To be blunt about it: the girls were naked, and Billie was jilling off her little friend.

I promised myself, when my daughter was born, I would not freak out over her sexual development the way my mother freaked out over mine. The woman threw me out of the house when I told her I was pregnant, and we haven’t spoken since. She’s never known what a joy her granddaughter is. I’m sure at some level I let myself get knocked up to prove to her I was straight. That backfired, of course. In one violent outburst, I graduated from suspected pervert to confirmed slut.

So I vowed, even before the epidural wore off, that I would be forthright and open with my little girl, and when the time came, I would reassure her that everyone who ever lived had the same feelings she had, and there was no reason to be ashamed about anything, ever. But I always figured it could wait, at least until she grew tits.

I should have put a stop to this. Even in the most progressive homes, little girls should not be fingering each other’s pussies. But the words died in my throat. We could talk about it later, but I couldn’t humiliate them right now. Besides, Kimberly was about to come — and so was I. My cunt was a wet sponge, sucking up my fingers.

I was frightened to death I would sigh or stumble or knock against the sofa, but fear only heightened the rush. The girls must have felt the same way, afraid they’d wake me up but too excited to stop, carried away by the risk and the awareness of how naughty they were being. We were all bad little girls, half-scared of getting caught, half wanting to be.

Billie bore down on Kimberly’s pussy, circling with her fingertips. Kimberly was sinking deep within herself. She breathed deeply, and long shadow-fingers spread through the gullies between her ribs, as though her chest was in the grip of two enormous black and skeletal hands. Her heels dug into the bed, lifting her bottom. Then all at once, the strength poured out of her. She let out a strangled cry, collapsed on the bed and, shaking all over, flipped onto her side, into Billie’s arms.

I came, too, almost falling over the back of the bed. I managed to pull back, unseen and unheard, and when I looked again, Kimberly had buried her face in Billie’s shoulder. At first, I thought she was crying, but it wasn’t crying. It was a prolonged whimper that spoke of the hunger to be loved.

“Was it nice?” Billie whispered.

Kimberly whined in the affirmative, and her lace-blossom crown bobbed in the dark. Billie cooed over her, stroking her back, holding her bottom. Kimberly crooked a knee between Billie’s legs, and Billie, accepting the invitation, began to grind against the slanted thigh.

She must have been close already, because it took only a few moments of concentrated humping before she was quaking and shuddering the way Kimberly had. But she didn’t whimper like Kimberly. My daughter came like a steam engine, with a chain of heavy puffs that ended in a drawn-out sigh. She was the dominant one here, owning her own pleasure, taking responsibility for her partner’s. My baby girl. I was proud of her, in a perverse way.

They were so into each other they never glanced up once. I was invisible to them, like an angel looking down from on high — an angel coming for the third time.

I stood watch as they fell asleep, nose to nose, holding hands beneath their chins. Before I left them, I sent forth a silent wish, which I’m sure they heard in their dreams, because they did just as their angel instructed.

They kissed goodnight.

On to Part Two!

Karin has already contributed several excellent stories to this site… and here’s a new delight for you to savor. Thanks, Karin, for the erotic treats. — JetBoy

by Karin Halle

In the wake of storms on the Great Lakes, the shores were regularly littered with debris, some of which could prove useful to beachcombers, especially those who otherwise had very little.

Thus it was that on the morning of Saturday, September 8, 1860, a fourteen-year-old girl left the cabin she called home after her mother had left for her job in the Illinois village of Port Clinton. Susannah Croft made her way to the shore of Lake Michigan to see if anything of value had washed up in the overnight gale. After the previous storm, she had retrieved a small timber crate that contained eight cans of lovely, delicious peaches.

Susannah knew she could not hope to be so lucky a second time, but in the innocence of her youth, she was still an optimist – the hardscrabble life she endured had not yet weighed upon her spirit as it had upon her mother, Harriet.

Harriet had not yet sent the girl out to find employment, allowing her instead to remain at home to cook and clean and sew. The woman had many good years ahead of her and wanted to spare her daughter for as long as possible. Besides, a few extra dollars would barely make any difference to their straitened circumstances.

Susannah clambered over the rocks, arriving at a stretch of clear shore covered by a fine grit. A large object, clearly not native to the spot, lay in the distance ahead of her. As she approached, she saw to her horror it was a human body – white as marble, and just as lifeless. She assumed it had been swept from a ship caught in the gale.

The victim was a girl who looked to be not too many years older than herself. She lay without a shred of clothing, fully exposed on her back, with her legs apart as though nature had determined that mere nakedness was not sufficient degradation. The head was tilted slightly to one side.

Susannah was distraught at the sight, but not afraid. She had seen death often, including her own father and brother, who had both passed on in their little home, her father from an accident and her brother as the result of an unidentified fever.

But how had the castaway come to be naked? Kneeling beside the body, Susannah removed her jacket and laid it discreetly across the girl’s hips – there was nothing she could do to preserve the modesty of the upper torso.

She closed her eyes and said aloud, “Almighty and merciful God, protect this poor soul and take her into Thy care.” She then clasped the ice-cold hand.

The slight movement caused water to spurt from the girl’s mouth, a common occurrence with drowning victims. Not so common was the little cough that followed. Then the eyes flickered open for a moment.

“Praise the Lord!” Susannah exclaimed. She attempted to help the scarcely living soul to her feet, but stopped when the injured girl cried out in pain.

“You must try to rise,” Susannah urged. “My home is not far.”

With great effort the girl managed to stand, though not without various pains that caused her to wince, moan, and even cry out. Laboriously, they made their way to the shack, where a fire would provide some sorely needed, comforting warmth.

With the girl seated on a stool before the hearth, Susannah fetched a blanket, but when she placed it across her shivering guest’s shoulders, the poor thing gasped with pain.

Fetching a lamp, Susannah looked closely at the girl’s back. One side, she observed, was scratched and torn from the shoulder to the haunches. Though the cuts were not deep, they were fire-red and angry-looking.

“Oh, you poor dear,” Susannah murmured. “That is very dirty, and needs to be washed. I shall apply some salve that Mother has, which may ease your suffering a little.”

She fetched warm water and the softest piece of cloth she could find, and gently cleaned the gashes.

The girl twitched repeatedly as Susannah bathed her wounds, but made no complaint. Susannah next applied the salve, with strokes as gentle as she could make them, and the girl hardly winced at all.

As she tended to the patient, Susannah introduced herself, asked the girl her name, and enquired as to what had happened.

“My name? I cannot seem to recall,” the girl said uncertainly. “All I remember is … rushing water, then I was lifted up and flung, and I was knocked against something, and then I was overboard and in the water … it was rough and the waves were fierce and I was very much afraid. And then … that is all that I can remember.”

“And before that – before you were on the ship?” Susannah prompted.

With a gasp of dread, the girl whispered, “I can’t remember … I remember nothing. Nothing at all!”

Though horrified, Susannah sensed it was important to keep her patient in the best possible spirits.

“You have been spared by the grace of God Almighty,” she said, “so I shall call you Grace until your memory returns.”

Only when her mother returned from the village at suppertime did Susannah and Grace garner any news.

“The Lady Elgin was lost in the storm,” Harriet informed them. “She must have been one of the passengers.”

“The Lady Elgin,” Susannah repeated to Grace. “The Lady Elgin – does the name have any meaning for you?”

“None. None at all,” Grace said sadly.

“A great many lives were lost in the tragedy,” Harriet went on. “The remains of the poor souls who were taken are everywhere. It will take time to identify them all. Meanwhile, child, you shall stay with us. Susannah, run to the village and fetch Doctor FitzHerbert at once.”

“I am very appreciative, Mistress Croft,” Grace protested. “But I cannot repay the kindness of you and your daughter. And I have nothing at all with which to pay a doctor.”

“You are no trouble to us, child,” Harriet assured her. “And Doctor FitzHerbert – well, he shall take one of Susannah’s excellent broths in settlement of his fee, and will be quite glad of it.”

Harriet spoke truly. The doctor, excited by news that the wreck had yielded another survivor, arrived at the shack within the hour. He was astonished at the girl’s condition, for, upon examination, he concluded Grace might have a broken rib but, with the exception of the savage scrapes on her back, she was otherwise uninjured. He noted that he could find no injury to Grace’s head that would explain her memory loss.

“The loss of memory might be merely the result of shock,” he said. “Or, as she was half-drowned, her brain might have suffered from a lack of air, causing the memory loss.”

“Will her memories return?” Susannah asked.

“Perhaps they will, in time,” the doctor mused. “Or possibly only some. Perhaps not at all. These things we do not know, cannot know – only God in His glory knows the human mind.”

He turned to Grace.

“Nevertheless, you are most fortunate, young miss,” he said. “I would call your survival a miracle. Many have been washed ashore on the tides, and few are still living. Most of the bodies were quite badly disfigured, and I suspect that a great number will defy all efforts to identify their remains.”

After dining, the doctor thanked Harriet for her hospitality and Susannah for her hearty broth, then took his leave.

Harriet told Susannah to defer clearing the dishes until the morning. “I think our poor visitor needs to sleep now,” she said.

Harriet had a room to herself, and Susannah would share her little bed with Grace. She offered her spare nightshirt to her guest, but Grace insisted she would sleep without covering, lest the material irritate her wounds.

Susannah thought nothing of it. She and her mother had spent many a restless summer night lying atop their bedclothes, spread-eagle and in a wholly natural state, yearning for a breath of wind from the lake. Yet her heart went out to this wretched creature, who feared even the slightest touch against her ravaged skin. In an instant, Susannah resolved to show her sympathy by sharing Grace’s burden. She, too, would sleep naked.

Grace watched in silence as her hostess disrobed. Then the girls climbed into bed together and cuddled closely, spooning to keep warm as there was no fire in the little bedroom.

“The touch of your flesh against me is soothing,” Grace purred, “and warm.”

They drifted to sleep, and did not wake until late the next morning, long after Harriet had left for Port Clinton.

“How do you feel this morning?” Susannah enquired. She was still spooned against Grace’s back, but not too tightly, as she had been the night before.

“There is less pain,” was Grace’s reply, “thanks to your care, and your mother’s salve.”

“Let’s get up and I shall apply some more,” Susannah suggested.

“Presently,” Grace replied.

She reached behind her with one hand and, following a short, groping search, found a spot her rescuer had always regarded as inviolable.

Susannah gasped in shock. “What are you doing?”

“Please let me,” Grace said. She turned carefully in the bed, so that they now faced one another. “I shall be as gentle with you as you have been with me!”

As a country girl, Susannah knew of the regenerative nature of the loins, and the urges they were said to produce in animals. But as a human being, blessed with the knowledge of right and wrong, she believed in her heart she would never succumb to base instinct. Yet this new sensation took her by surprise. It was immoral, she knew, yet the feeling was wonderful. She tingled all over, but she tingled most where Grace was touching her.

One spot in particular made her tremble each time Grace’s fingers moved across it. There was moisture too, which Grace spread liberally, as though slathering a goose with butter. Without even intending it, Susannah parted her legs. She longed for more of Grace’s ministrations, even if she was unwilling to admit it to herself.

Grace’s finger burrowed between the fleshy parts of her privates, to the very edge of her most sacred recess. Susannah felt herself challenged – she wondered how that finger would feel placed inside her, but also knew she must remain intact for her future husband, whoever he might be, on their first night together.

She could not decide which impulse to follow, but Grace’s actions made the decision for her. With her finger poised at Susannah’s entrance, she flicked her thumb against that luscious spot whose acquaintance Susannah had made only moments ago.

“Oh yes!” Susannah sighed. The words were out before she knew it, and Grace, thus encouraged, slid her finger forward – inside Susannah’s very body! Only a little way, to be sure, not even past the barrier, but soon …

Grace’s thumb continued to arouse Susannah, to the point at which she no longer cared about some unknown future husband, should there even be one.

“Oh yes!” she gasped again. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

She felt the tension against her maidenhead, then the release. Grace’s finger was inside her now – completely.

Susannah had just enough time to think, I am now a woman! before a new sensation, more powerful than any she had ever experienced, began to build up inside her – and not just at the point where Grace’s finger was performing the proper office of a cock, but through her entire being.

The feeling continued to build, then reached its peak and crashed over her senses like a wave upon a rock. Susannah was aware of nothing but the ecstasy of being a woman. Every part of her clenched, then suddenly relaxed as the release surged through her.

A voice in her head cried out, “Oh sweet Jesus!” and her mouth echoed the words.

Her whole body shuddered as she gradually became aware of Grace’s finger plunging into her, and the thumb circling that magical spot, and Grace whispering, “Oh, you beautiful girl. Come for me, and keep coming!”

The overwhelming sensation was building up again, and Susannah silently prayed for its arrival.

This second time was even better than the first, because Susannah knew what was happening, and what she would experience when the climax arrived. She went rigid. She went limp. She cried out. She sobbed with joy.

“In the name of heaven, what are you doing to me?” she wailed.

“I’m fucking you,” Grace said simply. “It is God’s secret gift to women, but only for those who seek it out. Do you like me to fuck you?”

“Like it?” Susannah moaned through her sobs. “I adore it! It’s the most unbelievable … the most …”

It happened again – not as intense this time, but it lasted longer. Susannah wondered if she might faint, but she was determined not to allow herself – there was no way on God’s earth she was going to miss even a second of this rapture.

She was still crying uncontrollably as Grace rolled gingerly onto her back, wincing and gasping as she did so.

“Darling Susannah, do you think you can do those things to me?”

“Oh yes! Let me, please let me! Please?”

“Yes, but be gentle. I am very sore.”

Susannah Croft was gentle. The only thing that mattered was to return the ecstasy Grace had bestowed upon her. Her forsaken maidenhead was no longer a concern – a husband, and men generally, were no longer important. Even the duty to bear children was meaningless. Susannah Croft knew that, from this moment forward, the only thing she cared about was Grace – the shipwreck survivor she had not even known a mere day earlier.

Susannah idly thought of her mother – would she disapprove? She realized she didn’t care too greatly about that, either.

Their lips pressed together lightly for a moment. Instinctively, Susannah opened her mouth, and Grace’s lively tongue entered. This was kissing of a kind Susannah had never known, and she sucked the writhing muscle in encouragement. She also tasted the wetness that was trickling forth, and she knew that it was good.

As they kissed, Susannah’s hand found Grace’s breast and rested lightly upon it. It was fuller than her own, and elegantly shaped – the most perfect thing of all God’s creation. Its twin was equally perfect. Susannah had to kiss those emblems of womanhood.

Then, suddenly, she needed to see Grace’s most private place. Nudity was nothing new to her, but never had she been so close to another female, nor closely inspected those parts that made a woman. As she shifted position, Grace spread her legs wide.

Little folds of pink flesh, like lips, opened beneath Susannah’s gaze. She put her thumbs to them and peeled them back to see inside. Here she found a darker pink, with a sheen of clear moisture. (It must be part of loving, Susannah decided.) An indentation led deeper inside, beneath the tiny protrusion which she now knew gave so much pleasure. This work of God that lay between a woman’s legs outshone all others!

Acting solely on instinct, she put her lips to those beautiful parts and kissed Grace there. Grace’s deep sigh was her reward. Wanting to taste those parts, and that fluid – the nectar of love – she bore down harder and kissed more deeply.

Grace’s fruit was even sweeter, juicier, than the canned peaches Susannah had retrieved after the previous storm.

“Should I put my finger in you?” Susannah asked,

“Oh, yes, my love. And fuck me!”

“I shall … fuck you,” Susannah declared. If her mother heard her use such a word, she knew, her mouth would be washed out with soap.

She carefully inserted a single finger into Grace’s hole – and was amazed by the warmth and the texture. She began, gently, to pump her finger in and out, as she knew males did it with their manhood.

“Use two fingers!” Grace panted.

Two? Susannah wondered. Was that even possible? Would they fit? Yet surely Grace knew her own capacity, and the passage to her womb felt slippery and pliable enough.

Cautiously, Susannah slipped her fourth finger alongside the third, and she knew at once her fears had been unwarranted. Grace easily took both deep inside her, grasping them tight with her inner muscles. Susannah began to pump with her hand.

Then she remembered the thing Grace had done to her. With the thumb of the same hand, she burrowed between Grace’s slick pink folds, massaging the little bulb.

Grace twitched and gasped, “Oh, yes! You are learning!”

Susannah pressed down on the bulb, which seemed to respond by swelling against her thumb. Twisting her hand, she was soon able to pump with her two middle fingers, simultaneously squeezing the growing bud between thumb and forefinger.

“Ah, you are an enchantress!” Grace gasped, and she began to tremble.

As Susannah watched in disbelief, Grace experienced the same joy that she had dispensed only a few minutes before. Presently she reached up to pull Susannah down towards her, and kissed her again.

The taste of Grace’s mouth itself became sufficient reason for living. Timidly Susannah pushed her tongue forward. Now it was Grace’s turn to suck, and she made a soft humming sound as she did so – obviously one of approbation.

They kissed thus heedlessly awhile, but soon Susannah needed to explore Grace’s body, and to touch all of the firm but yielding flesh. She found herself delighting in playing with Grace’s breasts one again, discovering the dimple in her belly, and inspecting the bud that peeped from the pink folds between her legs. She would never lose her astonishment that something so tiny could afford such enormous pleasures.

Presently, she remembered something and told Grace to turn over. She wanted to apply lotion to Grace’s poor torn back, but before she could do so, she was entranced by the plump round globes of her bottom. She knew, of course, what lay between those globes, but still was compelled to look. Parted Grace’s flesh, and beheld the most delicate flower ever.

Dragging her attention back to the loathsome cuts and scrapes on Grace’s back, she put a little ointment onto the tips of her fingers and spread it over the wounds. Three times Grace hissed in pain, and three times Susannah apologized, but each time Grace told her that she knew Susannah would never intentionally hurt her.

Only in the middle of the afternoon did they finally leave the bed. After attending to the call of nature, they ate a little, although neither was very hungry.

As evening approached, Susannah donned a nightdress – she was fearful of her mother’s reaction if she were to find her entirely bare in the presence of a guest, and for no apparent reason. Indeed, when Harriet returned, she wondered at Susannah’s night attire. “Why in the world are you not dressed?’ she asked.

“Grace cannot bear the touch of cloth on her wounds, and I thought she would feel less shame for her nakedness if I too was naked. I have put this on only because you were due home.”

Harriet smiled, with a most peculiar expression on her face. “I saw you two in bed before I left this morning. You will recall that you were both unclad.”

Susannah’s face registered shock, but Harriet was not offended. She was not even perturbed.

“You looked so pretty together,” she said with a melodic lilt, “that way.”

“You are not angry?” Susannah whispered in disbelief.

“The only anger I feel is that you have not attended to your chores,” Harriet told her. “What do you imagine we shall have to eat tonight?”

Susannah hurried to prepare a meal for them all, assuring them that it would soon be ready.

“I have more news of the disaster on the lake,” Harriet announced over their meal. “It seems that the Lady Elgin was rammed by another vessel in the storm, and she quickly broke apart. Many bodies have washed ashore all along the coast, but there are more survivors in addition to Grace, thank the Lord.”

She paused as both girls whispered words of relief, then went on.

“It is unknown how many were aboard, nor how many have survived. And most passengers bought tickets without booking, so it is not known who might have been aboard.”

With that news, conversation came to a halt. With Grace’s assistance, Susannah set about clearing the table and washing the bowls, while Harriet took her ease.

When it came time for bed, Harriet wished them both goodnight. Then, to Susannah’s utter astonishment, she said, “Should you girls wish to play games with each other tonight, please do not make too much noise. I need my sleep, as I must work tomorrow, and in any case, I have no wish to hear such things.”

Turning, she went to her room. She left Susannah gaping after her.

The youngsters slept during the night, partly out of consideration for Harriet, but mainly out of embarrassment lest the adult overhear them. And provided that Susannah attended to her chores the following day, they could devote many hours to loving each other.

Although they woke at a reasonable time, Harriet had already left for her employment. Susannah performed her chores and treated Grace’s injuries. Then they partook of a midday meal.

The afternoon was spent in Susannah’s bed, before Susannah dressed in preparation for her mother’s return. Grace donned Susannah’s nightdress. She had been naked since her rescue and, although her wounds were still tender and were irritated by the cloth, she wanted Harriet to find her covered when she returned.

The evening meal was ready at the customary time, and Harriet thanked both girls for not overlooking the daily housework. As they relaxed after their meal, Susannah broached the subject that had been uppermost on her mind.

“Mother, what will become of Grace when she is well?”

“I do not know,” Harriet admitted. “Unless she can recall her name, or something about herself, it will be nearly impossible for her to contact her kinfolk.” She didn’t add the words, “If she still has any kin alive.”

“Might she stay with us, Mother?”

“As soon as I am able, I shall find a way to earn my keep,” Grace added, “should I be permitted to stay, that is. And I can teach Susannah her letters, so she will be able to read and write … and I can teach her to work numbers, too! Then she might be able to secure a good position.”

“I know my numbers,” Susannah insisted indignantly. “I can count. I am fourteen,” she added proudly.

“You need more than that, dear,” Harriet told her. “I can count, too, and I am thirty-seven. But there is much more. You must be able to work numbers – to make them work for you. You need to know how to add and take away, and be able to do times.”

The notion that Susannah could learn these things caused Harriet to dream. Although she did not possess such skills, she still had a good situation at a local manufactory. Yet she wanted more for her daughter than mere subsistence. The world of the future would leave the ignorant behind, and schools were being established in many small communities – even Port Clinton would someday have a school. And schools would need teachers …

“And you do not want Grace to leave, do you, child?”

“No, mother – I love her.”

Susannah had not intended to say that, but she could not take the words back.

A bleak look flashed across Harriet’s face. Susannah blushed with shame and hung her head.

“I’m sorry, mother, but it’s true. And I am certain that you know what I mean.”

Nodding slowly, Harriet turned to Grace. “And you? What do you say about that?”

“Only that I love Susannah – truly love her. And I want very much to be with her. And I also very much desire your acceptance.” She couldn’t gauge Harriet’s thoughts from her expression, so she went on. “I understand that such things are … unconventional, and are indeed disapproved of by many.”

Harriet, still silent, nodded.

“But I sense that you do not feel that way,” Grace continued. “Although you may not approve, you have in the last few days indicated that you can accept the feelings that Susannah and I have for each other. I believe too that you know the depth of those feelings, and that they are genuine.”

Speaking evenly, Harriet said, “I am convinced that Susannah loves you, but she is young and innocent, and may not have the wisdom yet to understand her desires.”

Susannah made to say something, but Harriet held up her hand. The girl knew better than to interrupt.

“And you, Grace – we don’t know your age, but I think that you are not too much older than Susannah. How well you know yourself and your feelings, none of us can tell.”

Harriet paused and Grace spoke up.

“I recall nothing of my past life, but I know that my affections are for those of my own sex. And I know how dearly I love Susannah.”

“Perhaps your past will come back to you, at which time many things might change,” Harriet said. “But I think that until that might happen, you should stay, at least for the time being.”

“Oh, Mother, thank you!” Susannah leapt to her feet and hugged Harriet, repeating the words, ‘thank you’.

Harriet looked over her daughter’s shoulder at Grace.

“I am most grateful for your hospitality and your consideration of my plight, and for your tolerance,” Grace said.

On to Chapter Two!

by BlueJean

Eliza…

Calm, Isabel. Be at peace.

Where is my sweet child?

Long departed, sister. Long departed. Let me soothe you.

You lie, Astris! Always you lie. She is near. She calls for her mama.

Hush, Isabel. That one is not your child.

She is mine!

No. She belongs to another. You must not harm her.

Liar! For long and long have you kept me anchored to this tree! But your power wanes, Astris. I can feel you fading, yet my reach grows further each day.

Do not fight me, Isabel. I am not your enemy.

Enough! Your kind knows nothing of motherhood… Eliza, my sweet, Mama is coming for you…

***

Mum says all honey is unique. It tastes different depending on where it comes from and what kind of nectar the bees collect. Newton honey is made from wildflower nectar and has a special flavour.

It took us nearly a whole day to harvest the second batch of honey and put it into jars. Some of it would go to the post office so Mrs. Jeffries could sell it for us, and the rest Mum would sell online, along with beeswax, royal jelly and something called propolis, which looks like bee poo but is actually a mix of saliva and beeswax that the bees use to seal up small holes in the hives. Mum says it’s an ingredient in some kind of varnish people use for musical instruments.

When we’d finished bottling the honey, Millie went outside to play with Bee, while me and Mum cleaned up. As I washed the storage buckets in the sink, I could see my sister through the kitchen window, standing in the garden with her back to me. She looked like she was shaking or something. Bee was sitting close by, poking her with a paw.

“What’s that girl doing now?” I mumbled.

“Hmm?” Mum stacked the last of the honey into boxes and then wandered over to peer out the window. “Let’s go see what’s happened.”

We hurried outside to find Millie cupping a little yellow bundle of feathers, tears streaming down her face. “He’s… he’s dead, Mummy! Nigel’s d-dead!” she sobbed, barely able to get the words out.

Mum knelt down and put her arms around my sister. “Oh, Millie. I’m so sorry.”

“Did Bee do it?” I asked, but Millie was crying so much she could only shake her head.

“I think it may have been a bird of prey,” Mum told me as she held my sister’s hand.

“It’s not fair! He spent his whole life in a cage and then… and then when he was finally free, something k-killed him!” Millie wailed.

Mum wiped away my sister’s tears and kissed her on the head. “Sometimes nature can be cruel, Millie. Your little bird didn’t understand about all the dangers out there in the world. He didn’t have anyone to teach him when he was young.”

“I hate nature, then!” Millie sobbed. “I’ll go live in the big tree where no one can hurt me or make me cry anymore!”

I stroked my sister’s back. “Don’t say that, Millie.” Hearing her talk like that made me feel scared. She could be a bit annoying sometimes but I didn’t want her to disappear inside a tree.

Mum managed to persuade Millie to part with Nigel so she could put him into a big matchbox. “We could have a funeral for him. Would you like that?” she asked my sister.

Millie gave a sad nod. “We should invite Miss Laine.”

“Oh. Well, Sadie didn’t really know your canary, sweetie.”

“I want her to come, though,” Millie insisted.

“All right, I’ll ask her.”

“And Mr. Dalliard, too.”

“We probably shouldn’t bother Mr. Dalliard.”

My sister turned to me. “He’d be quite upset if we didn’t invite him, wouldn’t he Freya?”

I didn’t think Mr. Dalliard would be too bothered really, but I knew Millie would start crying again if I didn’t agree with her. “Uh, yeah. I guess.”

So, the next day we held a little service for Nigel in the garden.

Mr. Dalliard turned up wearing his WW2 beret and all his medals attached to his smart blazer. He used a walking stick to get around, which I’d never seen him do before. I hadn’t really believed him when he said he was the oldest person in the world, but he definitely looked older lately. Old and tired.

“Oh, Mr. Dalliard, you didn’t need to go to all that effort,” Mum told him as she fetched him a chair.

“Weren’t no bother, really,” Mr. Dalliard said and gave my sister’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “‘Ow ya ‘oldin’ up, littlun?”

Millie did a big sigh. “I’m okay, thanks.”

Miss Laine knelt down and took my sister’s hand. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Millie.”

Millie looked a bit confused. “Pardon?”

“I’m very sorry for your loss. That’s what you say to people when they lose someone special.”

“I didn’t lose him, Miss Laine. A nasty bird pecked him to death.”

“Oh. yes, I didn’t mean you’d actually lost him. Pecked to death, though, that’s… that’s horrible… poor thing.”

“Terrible way to go,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

Mum put the big matchbox down on the ground next to a hole that we’d dug in the rose bed, then cleared her throat. “So, we’re gathered here today to pay our respects to… um… sorry, what was his name?”

“Nigel,” Millie said with a frown.

“To Nigel, who was Millie’s beloved canary, and whose life was cut tragically short.” Mum paused and then continued. “It’s always hard when a friend dies, isn’t it? Really hard. And sad. Really, really sad. So… yeah… Ashes to ashes, dust to dust…” She trailed off awkwardly. Mum wasn’t very good at this kind of thing, not really.

Miss Laine stepped forward. “If it wasn’t for Millie, that poor little bird would have spent his whole life in a cage on Mrs. Jeffries’ shop counter, which is no life for anyone. But Millie saved him, and thanks to her, for the first time in his life he discovered the freedom of the skies. Isn’t that amazing?”

“But a bird got him and pecked him to death,” Millie pointed out.

“And then he got pecked to death. Which is not ideal,” Miss Laine concluded.

“Terrible,” Mr. Dalliard added.

“Yes… thank you, Sadie,” Mum said. “Would you like to say some words, Millie?”

Millie took a big breath. “Well, I just wanted to set Nigel free because it’s really sad to see a bird in a cage and there’s no point having wings if you can’t use them to fly and it’s like having… it’s like… having legs but not being able to run. Well, you can have a wheelchair to get around, actually, but it’s better to be able to run… and birds don’t have wheelchairs anyway. So he was really happy to fly for the first time and he was definitely happy because he used to fly around and go, ‘tweet tweet tweet!’ and so that’s how I know he was happy, but then a big bird swooped down and pecked him to death and the big bird didn’t even eat him, so it probably just pecked him to death for fun, which is really mean, and I hope an even bigger bird swoops down and pecks the big bird to death too, so it knows how it feels to be pecked to death.”

We all stared at Millie, unsure what to say after a speech like that.

“I’ve finished now,” my sister informed us and sniffed.

“That was lovely, Millie,” Miss Laine said and put her arm around my sister.

“Aye, a fine speech,” Mr. Dalliard agreed.

“Would you like to say something, Freya?” Mum asked me.

“No thanks,” I replied, but Millie gave me the stare of death. “Um, just that, I’m glad he found some happiness with us, really.”

Millie clearly wasn’t satisfied with that, though.

“And… we didn’t have to pay much for him? So that was good,” I offered.

“Will Mrs. Jeffries give us our money back, Mummy?” Millie asked.

“Oh, I think that ship’s sailed, sweetie,” Mum told her.

“Always keep the receipt,” Mr. Dalliard said, helpfully.

Mum spoke again. “Well. Unless anybody else would like to say something, I think we should lower Neville—”

“Nigel!”

“Uh, I think we should lower Nigel into the grave. Girls, would you do the honours?”

It felt a bit silly, putting a matchbox into the flowerbed with Millie. One person could have done it easily but it was important that I was there for my sister on this terrible day. So we took a side each and lowered the little coffin into the ground and then covered it over with soil. I hoped Bee didn’t dig it up and eat what was left of Nigel. Millie took a cross she had made out of lollipop sticks and stuck it in the little grave.

Mr. Dalliard sang an old war song about fallen comrades, which was a little bit embarrassing, but it was a nice thing to do, I suppose.

Miss Laine had a bunch of flowers in her hands but she just picked a single flower to put on Nigel’s grave, leaving me wondering why she didn’t leave them all.

After we’d eaten some sandwiches and had a glass of lemonade, Mr. Dalliard got up to head home. Mum tried to persuade him to accept a lift in the car but Mr. Dalliard insisted he would keep walking as much as he could while he was still able. Before leaving, he went over to have a chat with Miss Laine. They were speaking really quietly and kept looking over at me and Millie. I wondered what they were talking about.

Miss Laine told us she needed to visit someone and would be back soon. As Mum and Millie took the plates and glasses inside to wash them up, I watched my teacher moving along the dirt track on the other side of the poppy field, heading toward the forest. I didn’t have a clue who she might be visiting – there weren’t any other houses in that direction for miles, and anyway, wouldn’t it have been quicker to take her car?

I decided to follow her. “Mum, I’m just going up to the post office to buy some sweets,” I shouted through the kitchen window.

“Okay, but take Millie and Bee with you,” Mum called back.

“I move quicker alone…” I replied in a really cool voice, then set off, taking a shortcut through the poppy field in pursuit of my elusive quarry.

***

“Freya! I said take – Oh, that girl!” I exclaimed as my wayward daughter ran off through the poppy field.

“I don’t want to go to the post office anyway, Mummy – I’m in mourning,” Millie declared.

“Oh, my baby’s in mourning!” I said dramatically and picked her up, peppering her face with kisses.

Millie tried her best not to smile, so I trailed more kisses down her neck. Finally her resolve broke, and she burst out laughing.

“Oh my goodness! Our little mourner is having a giggling fit!” I gasped, attacking her with more kisses.

“You made me!” Millie squealed.

She started to slip down my body, so I cupped her bum and hoofed her up. “You’re getting big,” I told her.

“You’re big!”

“You are!”

“No, you are!”

“You!”

“You!”

She rested her head in the crook of my neck and we laughed together. We stayed like that for a spell – me cradling my younger daughter, rocking her gently from side to side, just as I’d done when she was a babe.

“Why do things have to die, Mummy?” Millie asked me softly.

I wasn’t sure how to answer a question like that. Children seem to think their parents have a unique understanding of how the universe works. I tried my best to answer truthfully. “It’s all part of a big cycle, I suppose. Old things pass away and new things take their place.”

“Nigel wasn’t old, though.”

“Some things go before their time, Pixie. I’m not sure why.”

“Daddy wasn’t old either, was he?”

“No. No, he wasn’t.”

“At least he wasn’t pecked to death,” Millie offered.

Being pecked to death was probably preferable to slowly dying of cancer in a hospice bed, but my little girl didn’t need to know that.

“Let’s move over to the couch before you break my back.” I carried her into the lounge where the french doors were slung back to suffuse the room in a hazy afternoon light. I stroked her bum as she sat in my lap.

Millie began caressing my collar bone with her fingertips. She glanced up at me with an impish grin. “Does that tickle?”

“Not really,” I replied. “It feels nice, though.”

“Shall we do a dare?” Millie asked.

“What kind of dare?”

“I’ll let you put your hand up my skirt if you let me touch your boobies.”

My heart fluttered in my chest. “I’m not sure that’s a dare,” I told her.

“It is, because I might say no or you might say no.”

“I probably won’t say no. Will you?”

Millie giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“I don’t think it’s a dare, then.”

She thought about that for a second. “Okay, but shall we do it anyway?”

Gently does it, I told myself. Let’s see where this is going. “Go on, then. Undo the buttons on my shirt.”

“‘Kay. You can put your hand up my skirt while I’m doing that.”

I moved my hand down onto her bare legs and then back up underneath her skirt, caressing my daughter’s podgy bottom through her panties.

Millie, meanwhile, unhooked the buttons on my linen shirt, down and down until it hung open slightly, teasing the swell of my cleavage.

“Shall I touch them now?” she asked me.

I smiled and nodded to her. “Pull my shirt open first, so you can see what you’re doing.”

She tugged the halves of my shirt apart, gave me a big grin, then asked, “Mummy, why don’t you wear a bra much?”

“Bras are for city girls. Country girls like to hang free,” I told her with a wry smile.

I stroked and squeezed her bum as she explored my breasts, and soon the familiar glow of arousal smouldered between my legs.

I wanted to experiment with my youngest daughter, I realised, just as I’d done with Freya. But Millie was only seven and I wasn’t sure how far I should take things with her, so I was content to let her initiate and lead this sexy little game, wherever she might choose to take it.

“How does that feel?” I asked as she sat on my lap kneading my tits, occasionally rolling my nipples between her fingers.

“Do you mean me feeling your boobies, or you feeling my bottom?”

“Well… both, I suppose.”

“Oh, it’s quite nice. Your boobies are all squidgy!”

“So’s your bum!” I said and gave her arse a playful pinch.

“Ahhh!” Millie squealed and wriggled about on my lap. She looked me in the eye, then that impish smile was back. “Mummy, I know some other things we could do, but if they’re too rude, do you promise not to tell me off?”

Hearing my little girl say that sent a surge of lust through me that quickly centred in my pussy. How rude could a seven-year-old be? I’d seen her going down on her big sister, and that left me wondering what it would feel like to have a little girl licking my cunt.

I gave her a serious look. “I promise not to tell you off, but whatever we do has to be our secret, okay?”

She gave me a big exaggerated nod. “It’s okay, I won’t tell.”

“What would you like to do, then?”

“So… I could suck your boobies… you know, like a baby,” Millie suggested.

I nearly moaned out loud. “I don’t mind if you do that, but you have to think of something I could do to you, too,” I told her, playing along with her childish erotic game.

Millie thought for a moment. “Um… okay, I’ll let you touch the front of my panties instead of the back.”

God, yes. “That works for me,” I said and slid my hand round to place it on my child’s panty-covered mound, stroking her there.

Millie latched onto my nipple and suckled like a newborn. I wondered if some part of her subconscious remembered feeding from me, reawakening some dormant instinct.

“That’s nice,” I told her and stroked her hair with my free hand. I traced the crease of her pussy lips, feeling the warmth of it through her knickers.

Millie released my breast with a pop. “How long shall we do this for?” She asked me, her breath warm against my moist nipple.

“However long you want,” I told her.

“No, you have to say. Then when we’re done, I’ll think of something even ruder we can do, okay?”

I found myself wondering what naughty ideas my little girl might conjure up next. “All right, then. How about… five minutes?” I suggested.

“Okey-dokey!” Millie chirped, then proceeded to nurse at my other tit as I fondled her between the legs.

Occasionally checking my watch, I let my little girl suckle from me until our five minutes had expired. I took my hand from under her skirt and lightly tapped her shoulder. “Time’s up, imp.”

“Oh, that went quick, didn’t it?” Millie said matter-of-factly.

“It sure did. So what’s next?” I said, giving her a little nudge of encouragement.

“Now you have to close your eyes,” she told me.

“Ah, this is where you steal all my valuables and run away, isn’t it?” I joked.

Millie laughed. “No, I won’t do that, I promise. But don’t open them until I say, okay?”

“All right, I’m trusting you.” Closing my eyes, I felt the weight of her vanish from my lap as she climbed off me.

I could hear the rustling of clothes and her little huffs and puffs as she went about doing whatever it was she was doing. “You can open your eyes now,” she said.

I snapped open my eyes to find my little girl on the couch, standing astride my legs, her pantied crotch mere inches from my face. She’d tucked the hem of her pink skirt into its waistband, and had pulled her matching panties right up so the material stretched over her vulva like a second skin.

“Look, you can see my kitty through my knickers!” Millie told me, just in case it wasn’t obvious.

I stared between my daughter’s legs. “I certainly can.”

“I’ll actually let you kiss it, if you want.”

My pussy ached and throbbed. I needed a hand inside my panties – I just wasn’t sure whose hand. “That’s very daring of you,” I told her.

“Yeah, I am quite daring, to be honest. More than Freya,” Millie boasted.

“So… I should kiss it?” I asked her, gently steering us back on track.

“Mm-hmm,” Millie hummed at me with a nod.

I planted my lips on her mound and kissed my daughter through her panties. She giggled, twitching away for an instant, but then pushing her crotch into my face for more. I made contact again – longer this time, gently sucking on her pussy lips as she pressed her hips forward, almost humping my face.

After a while, I gazed up at her. “Enough?”

Millie shook her head. “No… but wait. Close your eyes again, Mummy.”

I shut my eyes and smiled, wondering what I would open them to this time.

More rustling of clothing and a soft jingly laugh. Whatever she was doing, she was certainly enjoying herself.

“And you definitely won’t tell me off?” Millie asked me.

“I definitely won’t,” I reassured her.

“Almost… okay, almost ready. You can kiss it again, but keep your eyes closed until I say.”

“All right, then.”

She drew my head towards her, guiding me between her legs, and quite unexpectedly, it wasn’t her panties that brushed against my lips but the silky smooth skin of a little girl.

Millie giggled. “Now you can open your eyes, Mummy.”

Her panties were gone. So was her skirt. My daughter stood over me in just her t-shirt and cute little pink socks. Her puffy mound was hairless and blemish free, a rose bulb not yet ready to burst into flower. I’d seen my seven-year-old naked many times, of course, but now I viewed her through a lens of sexual attraction.

“I made you kiss my kitty!” a pleased Millie gasped.

“You did,” I told her. “And now… now I’m going to kiss it again.”

I put my mouth over her mons and gently sucked, sampling her flavour. She tasted incredible – sweet; tart, the forbidden spice of a child, no hint yet of the muskiness of sexual maturity. I planted a kiss on one little lip, then the other, savouring the moment.

“I don’t mind if you lick it,” Millie told me.

That was the only encouragement I needed. I drew my tongue up her childish slit.

I was actually doing it, going down on my seven-year-old daughter. Too late for regrets now. A line crossed is a line crossed forever.

Clutching my head, Millie ground against me while my tongue explored freely, flicking and lashing over her sweet baby cunt. I reached round to cup her bum – two soft globes in the palm of my hands.

All pretences of a fun little game had been pushed aside. This was lovemaking, plain and simple. I licked Millie’s pretty pink cleft, then nuzzled her tiny clit until, quite suddenly, she tensed against me and exhaled a big sigh, her mouth hanging ajar, eyes squeezed tightly shut as she came. Her legs trembled slightly as I peppered a few final kisses on her beautiful pussy.

“I think you just had an orgasm, Pixie,” I said, smiling up at her.

She slumped back down into my lap and nodded, strands of damp hair plastered to her forehead.

“Can Mummy have a kiss?” I asked my daughter.

Millie lunged at me and crushed her mouth to mine, then gave me what I can only describe as a rather vigorous face wash.

I put a finger on her lips and she pulled back, looking pleased with herself. “Wow! Okay. That was different,” I told her, laughing.

Millie grinned at me. “That’s how they do it on the telly.”

“Not quite, my little facehugger.” I gently pulled her towards me. “Our tongues are supposed to dance together, not fight each other to the death. Like this.” Parting my lips, I kissed my little girl, tongue lightly teasing hers. Soon enough, Millie found my rhythm, and we kissed as lovers.

When finally we separated, my daughter had a chuckle for me. “You taste like marmalade.”

“Well, you taste like bubblegum,” I retorted, rubbing her little nose with mine.

“I’ll lick your kitty now, okay? I know how to lick kitties,” she declared.

“Oh, do you now? And where would a little girl learn something like that, I wonder?” I teased, knowing full well what she and her sister had been getting up to.

Millie made a face like a startled monkey – her fibbing face. “Um… Miss Laine taught us about it in school.”

I laughed. “Nice try, sweetie, but I don’t think Miss Laine would teach her pupils something like that.” Actually, I suspected Miss Laine would very much like to teach her young charges those kinds of lessons.

“No, not Miss Laine. I meant… I saw it on the telly.”

“You’ve been watching ladies licking each other’s kitties on the TV?” I asked, pretending to be shocked.

Millie shook her head. “No. It was a book, actually. I… read it by accident.”

I smiled and kissed her on the nose. “I think you’re a little fibber. And as punishment I think you should get down on your hands and knees, pull Mummy’s panties off and give her pussy a really good licking.”

Millie grinned at me and shuffled off the couch while I took my trousers off and threw them on the floor. I sat up and scooted to the edge of the couch as my daughter sat intrigued beneath me. She grasped the waistband of my now sopping knickers and I lifted my bum slightly so she could slip them down my legs.

“Did you wee in them?” Millie asked me, tossing the wet undies on the floor.

“No, I’m fully house trained, thank you very much. They’re all wet because you made me very excited, if you must know.”

“I did?”

“You did.”

“’Cause you liked licking my kitty?”

“Exactly.” I spread my knees apart and cupped her chin, gently guiding her towards my steaming cunt. “Now lick my pussy. Just like I licked yours.”

I thought Millie might hesitate, but it seemed she was keen to taste her mummy. Her little kitten tongue flicked playfully against my cunt, and I jolted slightly at the sensation, my pent up arousal finally given an outlet. She tasted me again, then licked her lips, sampling the musky tang. Clearly approving, she pushed her tongue through my outer labia.

I closed my eyes and let out a long sigh, surrendering to my child’s mouth. “That’s so nice, Millie.”

“It tastes different to… oh, never mind,” she said, then returned to her task.

I ran my fingers through her hair. “It’s okay, Pixie. I know you and your sister have been doing rude things together. I don’t mind. Now lick Mummy out like a big girl. Make me come on your face.”

Millie put her fingers on my cunt and prised me open, spreading my fleshy lips apart and inspecting me with considerable interest. It occurred to me how different she was to her sister – Freya was shy, often uncertain, whereas Millie was bold and outgoing, always keen to try new things. And this was certainly new.

“Do you like looking inside Mummy’s pussy? Is it exciting?” I asked her.

“It’s really juicy in there,” she told me, then casually added, “I’m gonna put my tongue in, okay?”

Cradling my daughter’s head, I guided her to my waiting cunt, then attended to the urgent throb of my clit with a free hand. “Eat me, baby girl. Tongue fuck Mummy.”

Millie pressed her mouth to my steamy cunt, spreading my labia open and probing the hot pink flesh within – a busy little bee supping at her queen’s flower. And although that image didn’t quite make sense, the absurdity of it filled me with delight and drew a titter from my lips.

I stroked my little girl’s hair as she feasted upon me. “There you go, little bee. Drink Mummy’s nectar. Buzz buzz buzz.”

Millie gazed up at me, her tongue still eagerly flicking away. “Nnn?”

“Naughty little buzzy bee,” I gasped, spreading my legs as wide as I could. “Look at all the sweet honey you’re making. Lick it all up, baby bee!”

My daughter must have thought I’d gone completely mad, yet still she busied herself between my legs, lapping at my throbbing cunt while I humped against her, my impending climax fast approaching boiling point.

“Ooh yeah, little bee!” I cried, as my orgasm erupted violently. “Eat Mummy’s sticky flower! Suck my cunt! Oh! Fuck!”

I held Millie against my twitching loins as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over me. For those few seconds I could hear nothing, see nothing – my entire being condensed down into a singular point of orgasmic bliss. Once the storm had passed, I closed my eyes and slumped back into the couch, basking in the pleasant afterglow.

Eventually, I came back down to Planet Earth and opened my eyes again. Millie was still kneeling on the floor looking up at me, her mouth smeared with my essence. “You said a lot of bad words, Mummy,” she told me in no uncertain terms.

I couldn’t help but laugh. “I most certainly did!” I confessed, slapping myself on the wrist. “Naughty Mummy!” I cleaned Millie’s face up with her panties, then handed them to her. “Put those on, sweetie. Freya will be back soon.”

***

 

Footprints. Flat heeled. Size four, maybe a five. Freshly made and heading towards the forest.

She was no more than half a day in front of me, but I would need to pick up the pace if I was going to catch up to her.

I stood up and spat on the ground, squinting against the glare of the hot sun, then made my way towards the line of trees in the distance.

Freshly snapped branches. Insignificant to anyone else, but not me. I was an expert tracker, having been captured and raised by the Apaches. It gave me an edge as a bounty hunter; it was why I had a reputation for being the best.

This is where she had entered the forest, probably thinking she could lose me amongst the trees. But I knew these woods like the back of my hand, having been raised by wolves here. Before the Apaches found me, obviously.

Continuing to observe the signs, I followed the trail until finally it led me to her.

As I suspected. The old fireplace in the woods.

She was bent down, her back to me. I knew how this would go: I would sneak up on her and just as I was but a few feet away she would suddenly turn to face me and say something like, “Ah, Freya Newton. I’ve been expecting you.”

I stepped on a twig and snapped it.

Miss Laine spun round. “Arrgh!” she screamed, flapping her hands up and down.

“Waaaah!” I screamed back, startled.

“Freya! You nearly made me pee my pants!”

“I – I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Why are you sneaking around in the woods?” Miss Laine demanded to know.

“I… I was just out for a nice walk,” I improvised, before adding, “Fancy meeting you here!”

I should have known better than to try and fool my teacher. Miss Laine stood there with her hands on her hips. “Did you follow me, young lady?”

“No. Yes. A bit.”

Miss Laine threw her head back and laughed. She had a nice laugh – soft and jingly like… er… a fluffy bell? Maybe? Well, I like her laugh anyway. Finally giving me a smile, she said, “Can I ask why you followed me?”

“I dunno, really. Just curious to know where you were going, I suppose.”

“Well, now you know, Nosy Newton!” Miss Laine stepped away from the old fireplace and I could see the bunch of flowers she’d placed there – the same ones I’d noticed her holding back at our house.

“So it was you who’s been leaving flowers here,” I said to her.

Miss Laine looked surprised. “You’ve been here before?”

I nodded. “Millie found the fireplace a while back. We wondered who’d left the flowers.”

“And now you know that too, I guess.”

“Why do you leave flowers here?”

Miss Laine sighed and studied the remains of the old hut, as if she was trying to imagine what it might have looked like before the forest rotted it away. “To honour the memory of the lady who used to live here.”

Intrigued, I asked, “Who was she?”

“An ancestor of mine. Her name was Isabel.”

“Why’d she live in a forest?”

“Well, Isabel was a herbalist and a healer. I imagine most of her herbs came from the forest, so it seems like a sensible place to live. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“That’s what Millie said too,” I pondered.

Miss Laine looked confused. “Er… you might need to explain that.”

“Millie said something about a lady who makes medicine. She must have meant Isabel.”

“How on earth would Millie know that?”

So I told Miss Laine the same tale I’d shared with Mr. Dalliard – about how Millie would touch things and space out and say weird stuff, and about our trip through the Menhir Stone. When I finished, I expected my teacher to burst out laughing or tell me off for lying, but to my surprise she put a hand on my shoulder and gave me a serious look.

“And this all started when your sister touched the ancient oak tree, you say?”

“Yeah.”

Miss Laine put both hands to her head and made a face. “I’ve been going to the wrong place all this time,” she said, more to herself than to me. “Isabel wasn’t here at all, she was in that damned tree. Shit!” She gave me a sheepish look. “Um, excuse my language.”

“That’s okay, I won’t tell,” I assured her. “What do you mean about Isabel not being here, though?”

Miss Laine studied me carefully, as if she were deciding whether I could be trusted or not. “Let’s walk home and I’ll do my best to explain. Some of it, at least.”

We left the old fireplace behind and came out on the hikers’ track that wound its way through the forest.

“I’ve been trying to send Isabel on her way, Freya,” Miss Laine explained. “It’s what I came here to do.”

That confused me. If Isabel was an ancestor, didn’t that mean she wasn’t alive? “Send her where?”

“Onwards. To the place where spirits go.”

“Huh?” I said, still not really understanding.

“Okay, that part’s complicated… and it’s not important right now. The point is, something bad happened to Isabel and her spirit didn’t move on. So she needs help.”

“What happened to her?”

Miss Laine came to a halt and gave me another serious look. “I’m not sure you’re old enough to know about that.”

I crossed my arms and stood up straight, giving my teacher a fierce look. “I bloody well am old enough, actually! I’ve been back in time and seen Dryads and Neanderthals! And now I’m trying to help my sister ’cause she’s in trouble, so don’t you give me any of that ‘you’re too young’ shit, okay?!”

“Freya Newton!” gasped Miss Laine, then burst out laughing, a hand held up to her mouth in shock.

“I’m not joking!” I shouted at her.

“Okay, okay, calm down. I’ll tell you. But you probably shouldn’t mention this to your mum.”

I uncrossed my arms and relaxed a bit. I couldn’t quite believe I’d just spoken to my teacher like that!

“It’s not a nice thing to talk about, but some bad people said Isabel was a witch and hung her to death from the oak tree down by the fields – the same one Millie touched.”

I was shocked to hear that. “A witch? But they must have known witches aren’t real.”

It was Miss Laine’s turn to cross her arms now. “And what makes you think witches aren’t real?”

“They only exist in fairy tales and stories, don’t they?” I replied.

“Are Dryads real?” Miss Laine asked me.

It wasn’t long ago that I had told Mum and Miss Laine that Millie had been making it up about the Dryad. But after our trip through the Menhir Stone, I saw things differently. “Yeah… I think they might be.”

Miss Laine simply raised an eyebrow, and then I understood. This was how she taught us in school. She never told us the answer, just pointed us in the right direction and let us discover the truth ourselves. It was a really clever way of teaching.

“I guess witches could be real too, if Dryads are,” I admitted.

We continued on towards the edge of the forest.

“So Isabel was a witch?” I said.

“Yes.”

“But aren’t witches bad?”

“Witches are probably not what you think they are, Freya. History has taken the image of the witch and turned it into something to be feared and loathed. People have hunted witches for thousands of years, and Isabel learnt that the hard way – they took her away and killed her. But something happened and her spirit didn’t move on like it should have. Do you understand?”

I wasn’t sure I did, but kind of got the gist of it. “I think so. How do you know all this, though?”

“That’s hard to explain. Basically, I’ve spent a long time trying to piece it all together. The tree was the missing part. I thought she would have gone home, and there’s certainly old magic around that hut – the mushrooms indicate as much. But it could be the tree she’s anchored to. It would make sense, if that was where she died.”

My mind was a whirlwind of questions and confusion. Maybe all the weird stuff Millie was doing wasn’t the Dryad at all – maybe it was this Isabel. My sister had mentioned a ‘bad Dryad’. Could she have meant Miss Laine’s ancestor? “I’m not exactly sure what you’re talking about, but do you think Isabel has maybe, um… possessed my sister or something?”

Miss Laine mulled that over. “I’m honestly not sure, Freya. You see, I’m quite new at all this. Millie must be very receptive to magic if Isabel has managed to latch on to her. And tapping into the Menhir Stone like she did is definitely out of my league. I need to do some more research. In the meantime, keep this conversation between us, but keep a close eye on your sister. If anything odd happens, you let me know straight away, all right?”

“Yeah, I will.” I suddenly felt relieved that we might actually be getting somewhere with this. And also that Miss Laine didn’t think I was completely mental.

But there was something else I wanted to ask, too – something a bit embarrassing. “Um… Sadie?”

“Hmm?” Miss Laine said, her mind clearly on more important things.

“Did you give Mum your knickers so she could give them to me?” I asked and felt my face glow.

“My knickers? Oh. Well.” Miss Laine burst out laughing again. “I suppose I did, yes.”

I smiled shyly and pretended to scratch my nose. “Why?”

My teacher put a hand on my shoulder. “A little bird told me you like to have fun with dirty panties. Did I get it wrong?”

OMG, what else had Mum told Miss Laine about me? She made me promise not to speak to anyone about the rude things we’d been doing, but apparently she was allowed to tell whoever she liked. Parents are such hippopotamuses!

I shrugged and told Miss Laine, “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit… but yeah, I do kind of like them.”

“You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s normal to experiment at your age. At any age, actually,” Miss Laine told me. I felt her touch the back of my neck, lightly stroking me there. “I have a confession, too.”

“You do?” I asked, intrigued.

Miss Laine came to a halt, bent down and whispered in my ear. “I really liked kissing your bottom!”

I let out a stupid high-pitched giggle then, suddenly feeling awkward, cleared my throat. “Oh. Um… thanks. Well, I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to kiss it again, you know?”

Miss Laine seemed to consider that very carefully, but shook her head. “Oh, Freya, there’s nothing I’d like more than to kiss your pretty bottom again, but we shouldn’t do anything like that without your mum’s permission.”

“Mum won’t mind,” I insisted.

“Maybe she will and maybe she won’t, but either way, it’s important that she has the final say. I wouldn’t be a very good friend if I did things behind her back, now would I?”

I sighed. “I suppose not.” Then I had an idea. “We could show each other our kitties, though. That’s not actually touching, is it?”

Miss Laine laughed again. “Oh, my goodness! You’re incorrigible!”

“Can we, though?” I persisted.

Miss Laine looked around to make sure no one was in the vicinity. “Come into the trees, then. I don’t want anyone seeing us.”

We headed off the path and into the forest a little ways.

Miss Laine knelt down amongst the ferns and slowly shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. You first.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Will you definitely show me yours afterward?”

“I’m a woman of my word. If I say I’ll show you, I’ll show you.”

“You didn’t actually say you’d show me, though,” I pointed out.

“I’ll show you!” Miss Laine said, quick as a flash.

“Okay, good.” I pulled my shorts and panties down to my knees in one quick movement, then lifted my t-shirt up so she had a good view of everything.

Miss Laine stared between my legs with a dreamy look on her face. “My goodness, what a pretty little kitty,” she said in a hushed voice.

“Is it?” I asked.

“Oh yes, it’s beautiful. So smooth and fresh…”

I wanted her to touch it. But I knew that wouldn’t happen today. “Can I see yours now?”

“Show me your bum first,” my teacher said.

I turned around and gave her a little wiggle. “Do you like my bum, too?”

“It’s perfect,” Miss Laine told me with a happy sigh.

Then, feeling daring, I took hold of my bum cheeks and spread them apart, showing off my bumhole in a really dirty way. I hoped I was clean back there. “What about now? Do you still like it when I do this?” I asked my teacher with a smirk.

“Oh, dear.” Miss Laine perched a finger on her bottom lip and blinked a few times, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “What a naughty young lady. It’s… it’s so incredibly rude to spread yourself open like that.” Well, the way she was staring, I don’t think Miss Laine was quite as shocked as she pretended to be.

Letting go of my bum cheeks, I turned round to face my teacher. “Your turn now,” I insisted.

Miss Laine stood up and leant back against a tree. “Kneel down then, and I’ll show you.”

I squatted down in front of her, my knickers still stretched around my knees.

Miss Laine lifted her red dress up, revealing matching lacy panties and stockings. “Are you sure you want to see?” she asked me.

I nodded eagerly. “Yeah, I definitely do.”

She peeled her knickers to one side, and there I was, face to face with my teacher’s kitty for the first time ever. Except, you know, kitties don’t really have a face.

It was true what Mum had said: Miss Laine liked to shave her pussy. It was as smooth as mine except for a little tuft of hair at the top. I stared and stared, my mouth hanging open in awe.

“Do you approve, Freya Newton?” my teacher asked me in a husky voice.

I nodded slowly. “It’s really pretty. I… I’d love to touch it.”

Miss Laine shook her head and waggled a finger at me. “No tou-ching! Not each other, at least.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, looking up at her.

“Take your panties off and give them to me,” Miss Laine instructed.

I didn’t hesitate; just slipped my shorts and panties off and then handed her the knickers.

Miss Laine pulled her own undies round her knees and then inspected mine. “Little girl panties with butterflies on. How delightful.” Pressing my knickers between her legs, she began rubbing them up and down her kitty.

“Oh, wow,” I gushed. I think I preferred touching, but after seeing Mum play with herself and now Miss Laine, I knew that watching could be lots of fun, too. No wonder adults liked looking at rude videos on the internet!

Miss Laine spread her pussy open and pushed my knickers between her lips, masturbating herself. “Is this okay, Freya? Making myself feel good with your panties?”

“Yeah, I really like watching rude stuff,” I replied, enthralled.

“Oh gosh, I feel so horny. I hope you don’t mind if I come on your knickers.”

“I don’t mind,” I told her as she scrubbed her gorgeous pussy with my panties, soaking all the butterflies in her juices. I slipped a hand between my legs and fingered myself, amazed at the dirty thing my teacher was doing in front of me.

“I could see you in class, Freya Newton,” Miss Laine told me as she rubbed herself. “Showing all the other girls your pussy under the table.”

Oh my God, she’d seen me do that? So embarrassing! But also… kind of exciting!

“I so wanted you to show me your pussy, too,” she continued. “And now you have. And your sexy little bumhole. Now I’m going to come. All over your pretty butterfly panties.”

Miss Laine went all tense and froze in place. “Oh, goodness! You. Sexy. Little. Girl!” She clutched my knickers to her kitty, making a mess of them as she orgasmed.

After seeing that, I was close to doing an orgasm too. I pushed my middle finger in and out of myself until that familiar feeling rushed up and surrounded me. “Miss Laine! I’m gonna lick your kitty one day!” I gasped, without really thinking what I was saying. I only just managed to keep my balance as I came, still squatting just above the ground.

Miss Laine bent to kiss me on the head, then handed me back my panties. “Put those back on, and then let’s get you home before your mum starts to worry.”

I slipped into my knickers. They were warm and wet and I didn’t ever want to take them off. Miss Laine pulled her own panties back up and pushed her dress down. I put my shorts on and, hand in hand, we headed home.

***

I was hanging out the laundry with Millie when Sadie and Freya strolled through the poppy field and up the garden towards us. Freya ran over to her sister, babbling about witches and someone called Isabel. Another one of their games, no doubt.

Sadie sauntered over and smiled, a slightly flushed look to her face.

I smirked at her. “Been sneaking off with my daughter, have you?”

“Not exactly,” Sadie replied.

I could smell sex on her. “Have you… been doing stuff together?” I asked.

Sadie winced a little. “No. I mean, a little showing, but no touching. Is that okay?”

I kissed Sadie on the mouth, a bedsheet gently blowing in the breeze, hiding us from the girls’ view. “Yes, it’s okay,” I told my best friend. “Actually… I think it’s about time the four of us had some naughty fun together… don’t you?”

Sadie’s eyes lit up. “That sounds nice. What did you have in mind?”

“Dinner here, tomorrow night?”

“Tomorrow night sounds good. But Iet’s make it my place for a change.”

“It’s a date.”

Sadie gave me a dirty grin. “Ask the girls to wear something… pretty,” she said, reaching down to stroke herself between the legs.

I could feel all the pieces falling into place – Me; Millie; Freya; Sadie. This was how the universe wanted things to be. Nature is defined by patterns of chaos – try to establish some semblance of order within that chaos, or simply dive in and see where it takes you. So I took a deep breath… and leapt.

On to Chapter Nine!

Note from JetBoy: As the Head Editing Jockey of this site, one of my favorite duties is introducing new writers to our public… and let’s face it, we’ve hosted the debuts of some great ones. Here’s the first offering from an author who has what I fully expect to be a dazzling future at Juicy Secrets. See if you agree.

 

by C. Cat

“Ms. Collins, do you have a minute?” Caroline Scott, the owner of the ballet school, smiled at Amanda as she gestured toward her office. It seemed that she had some good news to share.

“Sure,” Amanda said, then glanced down at her eleven-year-old daughter Katie. “Get changed and pack up your things while I talk to Ms. Caroline, okay?”

“Okay, Mum,” Katie replied as she darted off, more in a mood to play with her friends than get ready to leave.

As her daughter scampered away, Amanda took a moment to enjoy the sight of a room filled with young girls in leotards and tights. She particularly loved the way those outfits showed the contours of their tight little bottoms, blossoming breasts, and slender legs. She wondered if some of these girls had the same erotic longings for their classmates, teachers, and maybe even their friends’ mothers that she’d felt at their age.

She let her gaze linger as long as she could before Caroline noticed, but as discreet as she tried to be, the ballet instructor recognized the signs. The extra heartbeat that passed before Amanda turned away from the young girls, her brief distracted look, the shake of the head to clear her thoughts, and the lingering trace of a smile all confirmed Caroline’s suspicions. The sight of these underage girls gave Katie’s mother the same erotic thrill that she felt herself. Interesting, she thought.

Caroline was also fairly certain that her Katie was a budding lesbian. It wasn’t as easy to tell with little girls; they were only just starting to sort out their feelings, and to make it even trickier, most females had crushes on other girls at that tender age. Caroline was a careful observer, though, and noticed subtle differences in how Katie acted around pretty girls. The child might not have a clear sense of it yet herself, but the attraction was clearly there.

“Katie is doing very well in class,” Caroline began. “In fact, an opportunity has come up that I’d like to recommend to her – if you agree, of course. Have you heard of Latchmore House?”

Amanda broke into a delighted smile. “Oh, absolutely! Katie and I love to go there.”

Latchmore House was an old Victorian estate just outside the city, a popular tourist destination known for its spectacular gardens. An heiress named Anna Latchmore had founded it over a hundred years earlier with the intention of creating a magical place for children to explore and learn, particularly young girls. To this day, many believe it was his acquaintance with Anna and a visit to Latchmore that inspired J.M. Barrie to create the character of Peter Pan. Some even say that the tradition of Peter being played by a girl onstage began as his tribute to Anna.

Anna’s daughter Charlotte inherited the property along with her father’s business interests while still a young girl. She never married or had children of her own, which led to speculation about her sexuality, but those sorts of rumours have always followed independent and successful women. What is clear is that, soon after Anna’s death, Charlotte Latchmore took on her mother’s vision with every bit as much dedication as she applied to her father’s business.

She was highly successful at both and, by the time she passed away in the early Eighties, had amassed a considerable fortune, expanded the gardens, and endowed a private girls’ school. Almost the entirety of the Latchmore estate went to a foundation that would ensure her mother’s dream would endure.

“Well, then,” Caroline continued, “You must have encountered the Latchmore Fairies.”

“Oh, yes. Katie adores them,” Amanda said, neglecting to mention that she was quite taken with them herself.

Something that made the gardens particularly magical was the chance that you might catch a glimpse of beautiful girls with diaphanous fairy wings, dancing and playing in the gardens. Some lucky little girls were even approached by the fairies, who would invite them to play. Even when girls grew out of believing in Santa of the Easter Bunny, many would still cling to their belief in the Latchmore Fairies, especially after seeing them in person.

Over the years, the fairies became a large part of the garden’s mythology. Even when none were seen, a little girl might walk by a patch of flowers and spot a little gift left behind, wrapped in a leaf or flower petals. Inside, there would be something like a polished stone, a pretty little acorn, a pebble of coloured glass, or an exquisitely shaped bit of wood, always accompanied by a cryptic note from the fairies — something of a cross between a fortune cookie and a horoscope — that, according to the legend, had a special meaning for the girl who found it.

These things and more made Latchmore House a rite of passage for young girls. All were welcome, too, no matter their place in the world. Anna refused to charge admission, determined that no child would miss the chance to visit the gardens just because their family was poor. A generous portion of her estate was set aside to assure that this would always be the case.

“I don’t know how much you know about the fairies,” Caroline went on. “They’re all part of a society at the foundation’s school — more like a sorority, really. As a former fairy myself, I’m able to nominate someone for a scholarship, and I think Katie is just the type of girl they’re looking for. Do you think she’d be interested in attending the school… and perhaps, one day, becoming a fairy?”

“I… I think she’d say it was a dream come true,” a dazed Amanda replied.

A scholarship to a top private school, along with the possibility of her daughter becoming a Latchmore Fairy? What a marvellous opportunity, Amanda thought. Katie will be over the moon!

Amanda was also feeling a different kind of thrill, one she kept to herself. She pictured a younger Caroline capering about the forest, scantily clad in a little fairy outfit. It was a powerfully erotic image, one that gave her butterflies in the tummy.

Ever the careful observer, Caroline noted a new glint in Amanda’s eyes as they chatted about Latchmore, especially when she mentioned having been a fairy herself. This only served to confirm her suspicions about the woman’s sexual tastes. Oh, yes, Katie’s mother is absolutely into young girls, she decided.

“Well then, I’ll go ahead and forward my recommendation…” Caroline hesitated for a moment. “And if you have questions about the school – or anything else, really,” she added with an inviting smile, “I’d love to have a drink with you sometime…”

Amanda hadn’t dated since Katie was born, but she wasn’t so oblivious as to miss the dance instructor’s meaning. She’d been thinking it might be time to pursue a relationship again, and Caroline had been in her thoughts more than a few times in that regard. She was a few years older, maybe in her late thirties, with a fit and petite body that would be the envy of many younger women, and an air of confidence and grace that Amanda couldn’t get enough of. If there was anything that excited her as much as pretty little girls, it was strong, beautiful women.

Trying not to seem too eager, Amanda nodded. “I’d really like that. I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about… and honestly, it’s been much too long since I had some girl time.”

It also occurred to her that if she was planning to date other women – especially if one of them was Katie’s teacher – she needed to sit down with her daughter sometime soon and tell the girl that she was a lesbian.

Caroline gave Amanda a dazzling smile. “Well, then, I’ll call you sometime and we can set a date.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

***

That night, as her fingers slipped between her legs, Amanda was still thinking about Caroline. In the past, she’d fantasised about being one of the woman’s students, having the ballet teacher touch her body as she helped her into different positions. Now though, her thoughts drifted to Caroline as a little schoolgirl, dressed in her fairy outfit. Could I have seen her there when I was younger?

Maybe she was there that time Aunt Eileen took me to Latchmore. God, I still remember that day and how utterly wonderful it was, thanks to that one special fairy…

That particular outing had been one of the defining moments of Amanda’s life. Whenever Latchmore crossed her mind, she wondered if that was what fairy stories meant when they told of doors to other worlds.

It was just after her ninth birthday, the day Aunt Eileen took Amanda to a special party at the estate. At her first sight of the fairies, she was instantly smitten. They had to be the most beautiful girls in the whole wide world, she decided, unable to keep herself from staring at them. The day got even better, though, when one of the girls — a fairy named Emily — picked her to dance.

Her joy was boundless as she capered and pranced with Emily, convinced that this particular angel was the loveliest of them all. Just holding hands with her made Amanda tingle from head to toe.

Once they were giddy and out of breath, Emily spirited her away to a small private alcove with a statue of what looked like a Greek goddess dancing with a fairy. They seated themselves side by side, and Emily began to tell a story.

Amanda didn’t remember much of the tale at the time, but later learned that it was about the goddess Hebe and a nymph creating ambrosia, a special nectar that brought eternal youth to the drinker. She did her best to pay attention to the story, but being in the presence of such a pretty girl was simply too distracting. Just the sweet scent of her fairy friend made Amanda light-headed.

As Emily spoke, Amanda’s eyes were drawn to the girl’s long, slim legs. They looked so smooth and soft that she found herself longing to touch them. Then Emily shifted slightly, and Amanda gasped.

Pausing in the telling of her story, Emily smiled. “What’s the matter, my sweet?”

“You – you’re not wearing panties!” Amanda exclaimed, then instantly blushed, embarrassed to have said that out loud.

For a moment she was afraid Emily would be upset, possibly even run away. In fact, she didn’t seem to mind at all. The fairy smiled sweetly and put a finger to Amanda’s mouth in a shushing gesture.

“Let’s keep that our little secret,” she said.

Making no effort to cover herself, Emily then spread her legs even wider. That gave Amanda a perfect view that no one else could see. Her heart raced as she drank in the sight of the girl’s bare sex – the first she’d ever seen, besides hers.

“Do you like looking at me?” Emily asked.

“Uh-huh,” Amanda replied, enthralled by the little girl’s nakedness. Shy as she was, she managed to add, “You’re very p-pretty.”

“You’re a very pretty girl too… and I bet your kitty is even nicer than mine,” Emily spoke in a huskier voice, slipping a hand between her legs. As her new friend watched, she explored the cleft of her sex with two fingers. “I like to touch mine sometimes, especially right here on my clitty.” She glanced up. “Do you do that, too?”

She’d never admitted it to anyone before, but Amanda couldn’t bring herself to tell Emily a lie. Slowly nodding, she whispered, “It feels good.”

Emily giggled. “It does, doesn’t it? Tell me, do you know what an orgasm is?”

Amanda shook her head. She couldn’t remember ever having heard the word.

Emily’s smile seemed to get brighter. “Tonight, when you go to bed, I want you to take your panties off, then  touch your kitty just like this.” She let her fingers trace long strokes up her slit, pausing each time to make little circles around her clitoris. “If you close your eyes and think of me while you do this, you’ll get a special surprise. Will you do that for me?”

Amanda nodded again, but her eyes remained locked on what her fairy friend was doing.

Emily slowly trailed the tips of her fingers up and down the outside of her vagina, just lightly touching herself. Soon, though, she pressed her fingers between the engorged labia and began to stroke the pink interior with a slow, steady rhythm. Very soon, her sex was glistening with wetness.

Amanda trembled as she watched Emily slide a finger inside her kitty. First up to one knuckle, then another, then all the way inside. She’d always been afraid to put anything into herself like that, but it was obvious that the girl absolutely loved it.

Emily was breathing hard and fast, then a low moan escaped her lips before she gasped, “Yes… oh, fuck, yes! Watch me, Amanda. Watch me f-fuck myself”

Shocked to hear her fairy use that word, it suddenly occurred to Amanda that this was the kind of thing that got girls in trouble, big trouble. It made her nervous, but not nearly enough to frighten her away. Instead, she squeezed her thighs together as her own panties began to moisten. She was too shy to touch herself down there, the way Emily was, but she really wanted to. Even if it was wicked.

Now Emily was moving faster, pumping two fingers deep inside her hole, making sticky wet noises with each stroke. While one hand worked her opening the other was rubbing her clit.

“Uhhh, yes! Fuck, YES!” was all Emily could get out before her breath grew too ragged to speak. The only sounds the girl could make were tiny cries of joy. Her feelings of pleasure seemed to grow more and more intense, then with one last cry of “Yes!” Emily’s body went totally rigid for a few heartbeats, then started to shiver violently.

After what seemed like a long time, Emily relaxed, took a long, deep breath, then let it out in a satisfied sigh. Amanda had never seen anything like it before. Was that an orgasm? she wondered.

Emily sat quietly for a little while, regaining her breath, but she didn’t move to cover herself. Instead, she took those now wet, sticky fingers from between her legs and put them in her mouth, purring with pleasure as she sucked them clean.

What’s that taste like? Amanda wondered. Looks like Emily really enjoys it…

As if reading her mind, Emily looked up at Amanda, then down at her kitty, then back up at Amanda. She spread her thighs even further apart, causing her slit to open slightly.

“It tastes lovely, you know,” Emily murmured. “Would you like to try it? Go ahead, I don’t mind.”

Amanda nervously moistened her lips as she realised what the fairy was inviting her to do: touch the private bits of another girl. She loved the idea – yet it also frightened her. She felt a sudden impulse to run away, but forced herself to remain right where she was. Even at her tender age, Amanda knew that if she passed this chance by, it would be to her lifelong regret.

Go ahead, touch her there. She wants you to. 

Still struggling with her shyness, Amanda hesitantly reached out until she found the wet warmth of Emily’s sex, then let two fingers explore, coating them with the older girl’s creamy honey. She brought them to her mouth and took a cautious lick, then took each finger into her mouth to suck, just like Emily had done.

She’d never tasted anything like it before – not exactly sweet, but there was something about the flavour that she liked quite a lot. Would Emily let me have some more? Amanda wondered.

But before she could bring herself to ask, a bell rang somewhere.

Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, dearest… but it’s time for us to go back.” She rose to her feet, straightened her skirt, then took Amanda by the hand.

Their hands remained clasped as the girls made their way back to the park entrance, where Amanda’s aunt Eileen was seated, patiently waiting for her niece.

Goodbyes were exchanged, then when the fairy was hugging Amanda, she whispered in the younger girl’s ear, “Don’t forget about touching yourself tonight. I’ll be thinking about you and doing the same thing.” With that, Emily gave her new friend a warm kiss on the cheek.

Eileen watched the girls embrace, feeling enormously pleased at how the day had turned out. She knew without having to ask that this had been a wondrous experience for Amanda, perhaps even as lovely as her own trip to Latchmore as a little girl.

As for Amanda, it no longer mattered to her whether Emily was a real fairy or not. What counted for much more was the new kind of magic the girl had taught her. All the way home, the nine-year-old was focussed on remembering how to touch her kitty that special way, eager for the surprise Emily had promised her.

I mustn’t tell anyone about this, even Mum, she told herself. It’s bad luck to give away fairy secrets.

***

Later that night, while Aunt Eileen and her mum were downstairs talking, Amanda crawled into bed and slid her panties down, then decided to take them off completely, along with her nightie. She’d never slept naked before, and the naughtiness of it thrilled her.

Amanda pictured Emily, her fairy, with her beautiful face, flowing auburn hair, and slender body sitting beside her on the bed. She tried to imagine Emily reaching out to take her hand, their fingers intertwining, and offer to show her just where to touch. She could almost hear the fairy’s soft voice saying, You’re such a sweet little girl, Amanda, and so pretty… I’d love to help you get your surprise.

Spreading her legs, she felt Emily guide her hand as she began to touch herself. She was gentle at first, almost tickling. Her fingers slid across her tummy, down her legs, then with long strokes up and down her inner thighs until those lovely butterfly feelings started, only stronger this time.

From there, Amanda moved to the outside of her kitty – touching lightly, then doing it a little bit harder. She remembered touching Emily, how soft and nice the girl felt down there. Would Emily like to touch me that way? she wondered.

As she caressed herself, Amanda quickly noticed how tiny differences in pressure or the rhythm of her strokes completely changed how it felt. She experimented with touch, working to learn what she liked best.

Letting a finger slide between her lips, she trailed it down to her little hole. Even if it wasn’t as wet and juicy as Emily’s, her kitty was moist enough to make the task an easy one. It’s working so far, she thought.

Once her fingers were coated with juices, she brought them to her lips, sampling the thick, rich flavour. The taste wasn’t exactly like Emily’s, but she liked it every bit as much.

Reaching back between her legs, Amanda circled her opening for a few moments, then carefully eased a finger inside the warmth of her vagina. She didn’t feel ready to add another, not just yet. She withdrew her finger almost completely but for the tip, then slid it back in, penetrating herself with a slow, steady stroke. It felt good, a rippling surge of pleasure that awakened in her tummy, then flowed outward.

Bringing the other hand into play, she coated those fingers in her fluids, then began to explore her vulva – first around the hole, gradually moving higher. She’d always avoided contact with what Emily referred to as her clitty. The few times she brushed against that bit, it gave her something similar to an electric shock. It wasn’t as bad as getting shocked for real, like that time she was playing with her daddy’s reading lamp,  but the intensity of it had always unnerved Amanda.

This time, though, she was determined to feel all of it, no matter what. It’s my fairy surprise, she reminded herself. Emily wouldn’t ask me to do anything that hurts. 

Bracing herself, she let her fingers wander a little higher, almost yanking her hand away when she felt the first jolt. She managed not to, though. Okay, it’s still kind of scary, but Emily would want me to be brave, right? Besides, it’s more like a nice feeling, just really, really strong.

Amanda gave her clitoris a tiny flick, her eyes going wide at how amazing it felt. The lightest of caresses was enough to make her whole body quiver. She experimented with different kinds of touch, soon figuring out that what she liked best was to press down on the tiny bump and rub it in little circles.

She pictured Emily touching her this way and, with that beautiful image in her mind, a surge of pleasure rolled through her body. She nearly cried out loud, but just barely managed to stifle it in time. She was on the edge of something amazing and knew it was her surprise.

It wasn’t scary anymore. Amanda wanted it now, more than ever. She just had to keep rubbing herself in the right place. A few more strokes of her fingers were all it took, then it happened. Her body convulsed with wave after wave of pure ecstasy, the entire universe collapsing into this one bright moment. Was this really happening, or was lost in some beautiful dream?

Eventually, she could breathe again. Her sex was still pulsing, but too sensitive to touch, so she settled for gently resting both hands on her vulva. A great sense of peace filled the girl – in fact, Amanda couldn’t recall ever being so relaxed in her life, so perfectly at home in her own body.

Amanda was proud of what she’d done, and hoped that somehow Emily knew how wonderful the fairy’s gift had been for her. She was going to touch herself tonight and think about me, she remembered. Wish we could’ve done it together.

She lay quietly for a long while, then finally opened her eyes. Amanda yelped at what she saw, her thin frame jerking violently.

Aunt Eileen was standing next to her bed in powder-blue pyjamas, gazing down at her niece. And there Amanda was, spread out on the bed completely naked, touching her kitty with both hands.

She knew she was in trouble. Covering herself as best she could, she sat up, tears welling in her eyes. “I – I’m so s-sorry,” Amanda stammered. “Please don’t tell Mummy!”

Seating herself on the edge of the bed, Eileen drew her niece into a comforting embrace. “Don’t worry, little one,” she murmured. “It’s okay. This can be our secret if you want, but you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“You… you’re not mad?”

Eileen smiled. “Not at all, love. In fact, I’m happy for you… it means you’re becoming a woman.”

“Really?” She nestled deeper into her aunt’s arms, resting her cheek against the woman’s generous breast. Her tears were forgotten, swallowed up by the love she felt.

“Of course, little one. We all touch ourselves, you know. Perhaps it was wrong for me to have watched, but it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” She gave the girl a little tickle under her chin. “Was that your first orgasm?”

Now that she knew what the word meant, Amanda felt a renewed sense of pride. “Uh-huh.”

“Did you enjoy it, then?”

“Oh, sooooo much!” Amanda squealed. “It was the, the best thing ever!”

Eileen nodded, tenderly stroking her niece’s bare back. “You’re a very lucky girl, Manda. I had to wait a lot longer for my first orgasm.”

“So you do it too, huh?”

“Almost every night,” Aunt Eileen said, then whispered, “All big girls do. Even your mum.”

“Mummy does?” Amanda giggled to hear that secret. She loved the idea of it – her mother and her aunt, pleasuring themselves just as she had. “So… are they always that good?”

“Orgasms are almost always good…” Still cradling the nude little girl in her arms, she gave Amanda a playful kiss on the nose. “But with a little practice, you can make them amazing.”

Amanda hugged her aunt tightly. It felt so good to hold her. Auntie Eileen’s body was different from that of Emily, but she loved it. Warm and soft in all the right places and as comfy as her old teddy bear, and warmer, nicer smelling. And she had lovely titties, the biggest the nine-year-old had ever seen. Even before she reached puberty, Amanda had dreamed of having breasts like Eileen’s when she grew up.

As she snuggled with her aunt, that tingling feeling began to make itself known again. That’s when Amanda got a very interesting idea…

“I don’t mind you watching me,” Amanda said. “Did you really think it was beautiful?”

Gazing into the little girl’s eyes, Eileen murmured, “I think you are beautiful, sweetie.”

“Auntie?” Amanda said, suddenly looking away. She could feel herself blush. “Can I ask you to, um, do something for me?”

“You can ask me anything, love.” Eileen’s hands were resting on Amanda’s hips.

“Could I m-maybe watch you touch yourself sometime? So I can, um, learn how to do it better? I mean… Well, you got to watch me, right?”

The woman gave a thoughtful nod. “You know, that does seem fair.” Bending down, she gave the girl a kiss.

Amanda’s heart began to throb when the kiss lingered, Aunt Eileen’s mouth soft as a whisper against hers. Then the woman’s lips parted, and those tender kisses began to travel – touching the corner of Amanda’s mouth, her lower lip, then dipping down to caress her chin.

Lost in this impossibly sweet kiss, the child failed to notice right away that Aunt Eileen’s hands had slipped down to cradle her bare bottom, but she reacted with an astonished cry when the older woman fondled her there, fingertips edging teasingly close to the cleft of her bum.

Amanda had no idea why her own aunt was kissing and touching her that way, but she loved it too much to care. Somehow, it seemed as if she’d always wanted something like this without even knowing. It felt so good, so right.

Now Auntie Eileen’s mouth had returned to hers, only this time her tongue had emerged to play. Amanda gasped in awe, her lips parting – and that soft, sweet tongue dipped into the girl’s mouth for an instant.

What’s happening? Amanda asked herself, dizzy with excitement. She didn’t know, but it was wonderful, even more than the delights she’d sampled with her fairy. Suddenly, she imagined kissing Emily this way, and a rush of warmth surged through her slender frame.

That chain of thought was interrupted when her aunt broke away to smile down at her niece. Amanda gaped back – unable to summon up words, much less voice them.

“So, little one… you’ve learned how to give yourself pleasure,” Eileen began. “Now, you need to know how to share pleasure… to experience those good feelings with someone else.”

That delicious warmth in Amanda’s tummy had returned, even stronger this time – as if the orgasm she’d given herself moments ago had never happened. “S-someone else…?” she whispered.

Her aunt nodded. “Like that adorable little fairy you were with today… what was her name?”

“Um, Emily.”

“Emily, that’s right. Imagine her making love to you – touching your body, kissing your pretty mouth… wouldn’t you like to know how to give her those same nice feelings?”

Lost in her aunt’s warm, friendly eyes, Amanda only knew one possible answer. “Yes,” she answered, “yes, I do!”

That smile again. “I can teach you, love,” Eileen murmured. “If you want me to.”

Amanda began to nod before the woman had finished speaking. “Yes, auntie, please!” the nine-year-old blurted. “Teach me everything. I – I want to know!”

Without another word, Eileen gently untangled herself from their embrace. She rose to her feet, then began to unbutton her pyjama top.

As she watched her aunt undress, Amanda’s hand found its way between her thighs, though she wasn’t conscious of it at first. Her sex was pulsing with need, and she applied pressure there with three fingers. A shaky sigh escaped the girl’s lips when Eileen slipped out of the top, baring her breasts.

Letting the garment fall to the carpet, Amanda’s aunt reached for the waistband of her pyjama bottoms. She pushed them over her shapely hips, then they slid down to ring her ankles. She wore no panties, and her pubic thatch was thick and full.

Amanda was now masturbating, thighs closed around her busy fingers.

Eileen stepped out of the bottoms, then did a slow pirouette, putting herself on display for her niece. She drew closer to the bed, pausing to observe Amanda’s excitement.

“Got room in there for me?” she said, casually rolling a nipple between finger and thumb.

Seizing the top edge of the quilt, Amanda wriggled underneath while scooting over to the left side of the bed. Once in place, the grinning girl held the heavy blanket up in open invitation. “Lots of room!” she said.

“Why, thank you, love,” Eileen murmured, climbing inside. She took the naked little girl into her arms, and they nestled together.

“I love you, Auntie Eileen,” Amanda breathed.

“I love you, little one,” Eileen replied. “And I’m going to show you how much.” Lightly tracing the child’s lips with a finger, she moved in to claim Amanda’s mouth in a kiss.

On to Chapter Two!

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

There we were, a party gathering of girls and women – all of us gay, all completely naked, unwinding after an afternoon of non-stop sex by watching lesbian porn. Reading those words now, I guess the whole situation seems kind of funny, but at the time it was quite exciting. I’d already seen everyone in the room having sex, even if I hadn’t yet fucked them all myself… but somehow, I’d not gotten around to investigating porn yet.

Mom, the other grownups and Henri were occupying the two sofas, while the rest of us were seated or sprawled out on the carpet, mostly using these big, colourful cushions that were strewn about. The young ones sat cross-legged in front of the TV as if they were about to watch a Disney movie.

Of course, what we got was anything but family entertainment. When the opening credits of the film rolled along with footage of a gorgeous naked girl fingering herself I got butterflies in my tummy,  and my pussy started to throb.

The film was called The Rendezvous. The plot barely existed, but it was about a bunch of insanely sexy married women who carried out lesbian relationships in secret. They were sneaking out without their husbands – in one case, parents – intent on meeting up with their female lovers. There was six of these women, and I’d have happily fucked any or all of them.

I shifted about and got more comfortable by leaning back against the front of the sofa, between Mum’s spread legs, where I immediately began to play with myself. Some of the others had already started, including Kiki, who slipped down from her place on the couch to sit next to me. She was using her right hand to masturbate and, without looking away from the screen, casually reached over with her left to play with my pussy. Even left-handed, Kiki knew how to make me feel incredible.

The movie settled into a pattern or sorts where two of the ladies would get together, undress and then fuck. I don’t know if Mum’s mention of sex toys earlier was a coincidence or if she did it deliberately, but there were a few shocked looks from me, Mia, Lilly and Evie when this sexy brunette with an impressive set of boobs took out a huge dildo when she was with a blonde teenage girl.

“Oh, wow… is she going to put that inside her?” asked Lilly.

“Yes, sweetie,” Mum replied.

I was amazed, thinking there was no way that slip of a girl could take something so big into her vagina. Any other time I’d have thought Mum was joking, but she never jokes about sex stuff like that.

Sure enough, the massive dildo went pretty much all the way inside the girl. And the brunette woman didn’t go easy either. Oh, she took it easy going in, but then she was plunging it in and out really hard and fast. If I hadn’t seen it for myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. The blonde girl looked like she was loving it, too – she was screaming, “Oh God, yes! Fuck me, fuck me!” as she came. I had an orgasm soon after that. It was so intense that I accidentally kicked Henri who was lying in front of me, lost in her own ecstasy.

As the film continued, it got into sex toys in a big way, different types of dildos and vibrators used in various combinations between the lesbian lovers. I was particularly interested in the double ended dildo, because you could rub pussies while you were fucking. I was picturing using one of those with Mia when I came for the second time.

Joining Mum on the sofa, I asked her loads of questions about the film, and she answered them all as best she could. I was disappointed to learn that the women weren’t real-life lovers, but professional actresses who in all likelihood just met that day and were faking orgasms for the camera. Mum said she would seek out some real-life lesbian stuff on the internet for me, but that I wasn’t to look myself as there were lots of things there that I wouldn’t want to see. I knew she meant naked men, penises and such. She was right, I didn’t want to see any of that, just the nice girly stuff.

Mum told me that some dildos are made to look like real cocks and some aren‘t. Most men are nowhere near as big as the dildos in the films, she explained. Apparently a few really are that big, but it’s rare. It didn’t matter to me – I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in real penises, large or small.

As for using a dildo myself, I decided that I had to think about that. I mean, it looked like a man’s willy… but it’s not part of a real man, just plastic. I pondered the idea. If I put a fake penis inside me, does that mean I’m not really a lesbian? I knew Mum would say it didn’t matter, I should do what I want. Still, it was the first thing I’d come across involving sex that made me stop and think. Until then, I’d happily thrown myself headfirst into every new opportunity that arose, but my gay identity meant so much to me that I didn’t want to do anything that might compromise it.

I was also curious as to whether a dildo could actually fit inside my vagina. Obviously, I couldn’t take one the size of that monster the blonde teen in the film had been fucked by, but Mum assured me that sex toys came in all kind of lengths and thicknesses. “We’ll shop online and find something that’s just right for a girl your age,” she told me.

When Lilly heard that, she broke away from kissing Evie and gave Mum her best puppy-dog gaze. “What about me, Mum? Can I have a sex toy, too?”

Everyone laughed, and my sister blushed a little, but Mum said, “Of course, sweetie.”

“Cool!” Lilly squealed, then went right back to kissing Evie. Funny thing – the two littlest girls at the party were the ones who seemed the least interested in the porn film. I guess that to them, sex itself was still such a magical, wondrous thing that you didn’t need to watch two strangers doing it on a TV screen.

I was beginning to feel the same way, actually. The women on the TV were sexy and I was learning a lot from watching them, but my attention was getting drawn back into the room. There was already kissing and touching going on, and I could feel the sexual tension going up a notch. It was clear that the lovemaking on the screen was putting us in the mood for more than just masturbating.

The little ones were cuddling when Mum caught Evie’s eye. She patted her lap with both hands, then Evie eagerly hopped up and crawled into my mother’s waiting arms. When Kiki saw that, she crooked a finger at Lilly, who climbed right into her lap. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t think they’d had sex yet. I’d no doubt that Kiki was about to put that right, though.

Having Evie next to me on Mum’s lap was the perfect opportunity for me to make love to this adorable girl of seven for the first time. After that, the only person in the room I’d not fucked yet was Beth. Not that I was keeping track or anything, but I hoped to have it off with every female there at least once before turning in for the evening.

Evie may have been a child, but she was no fool. She knew what Mum wanted, and had both legs spread wide apart, putting her pussy on full display. Licking her fingers, Mum gently teased Evie’s nipples, making her wriggle about and squeal with delight.

I had to be part of this. First I gave Mum a deep, passionate kiss, then did the same to Evie, seeking out her tongue with mine. It was incredible. From the first time I’d made out with my younger sister, I knew that kissing little girls was the absolute best, and Evie was even better at it than Lilly.

Finally breaking away, I started touching Evie, stroking her legs and tummy. When I got a bit lower down, I paused in mid-caress. “Um, Evie… is it okay if I touch your pussy?”

“Uh-huh,” she replied, giving me an angelic smile.

I looked across the room to Nicole, and when her eyes met mine I mouthed the words, ‘Is this okay?’ and placed my hand on Evie’s mound. She replied with a nod and a wink.

“Well done, sweetie,” Mum said.

The cleft of Evie’s slit was warm, moist and silky smooth. She was leaning back into Mum, half in a daze as I fondled her. I wanted to do more than touch, though.

Leaning in to nuzzle her neck, I whispered, “Um, Evie, would it be okay if I licked your pussy? I’d like to make you come.”

Evie gave me a happy smile. “Yes, please! I love being licked. Lilly is ‘specially good at it.”

It made me feel warm inside, knowing she and Lilly were so into each other. How many girls were lucky enough to have an honest-to-goodness lover at the age of seven?

Mum shifted about a little bit, giving me easy access to Evie’s cunt. I intended to be down there for some time, so I grabbed a cushion and slipped it under my knees.

The sight of that bare pink pussy and its heady scent made my mouth water, but just as I was about to lean in and take that first lick. I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I looked around to see Beth sitting next to me. “Hey, Poppy, can I lay my head down here?” she said, patting the cushion I’d just put on the floor.

I was confused. What was she asking for? “Um…”

I guess Beth could see I was a bit confused. She quickly added, “You know, so I can lick your pussy while you’re, um, doing it to Evie.”

“Oh, sure! Sorry, I’m with you now. Um, yeah, I’d love to sit on your face!”

Beth quickly arranged herself on the cushion, getting ready to taste me. So that was that. I hadn’t even kissed the girl, and there I was looking down at those gorgeous green eyes and that pretty red hair. She smiled sweetly as I lowered myself to her open mouth, then went to work on me with an eager tongue.

In the meantime, Mum had placed Evie perfectly so the girl’s vagina was positioned just above hers. I hadn’t realised I’d be able to reach both so easily. Two sweet lovers for me to kiss and lick – what fun!

When I first began to have sex with my sister Lilly, Mum told me to be extra careful fingering her because she was so young. I assumed the same advice applied to Evie, so I just teased the entrance of her hole with my tongue and fingers, concentrating on her clit. But I could finger fuck Mum as hard and deep as I liked. What a wonderful experience that was – pleasing my mother and a little girl at the same time, all the while having my own cunt seen to by a dead sexy twelve-year-old. I felt like the Queen of All Lesbians.

Beth certainly knew what she was doing down there… of course, she’d eaten pussy many times before. She attacked my clit with her tongue, keeping a constant, unrelenting rhythm going that seemed to beat in my head like a dance record. It wasn’t easy, but I tried to focus my attention on Evie, who was sharing a deep tongue kiss with Mum. That got me especially hot, watching my mother make love to a little girl.

I continued to go down on Evie and Mum – switching from one pussy to the other, pleasuring them with my fingers or my mouth. Before very long, Evie came. She was panting and moaning, her body shivering as if she was having some kind of fit. It was something to see.

I got her off just in time, too, because Beth’s efforts between my legs were doing my head in. I couldn’t keep licking anymore, could barely think. Resting my cheek on Evie’s tummy, I gasped my way through a real wall-shaker of an orgasm. I was grinding down hard on Beth’s face, sweating so much that I had to have been dripping all over Evie. She didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, she was cradling my head in her little arms, whispering sweet things like, “You’re so nice, so pretty. I love you, Poppy…”

Luckily, Beth stopped fucking me before I went stark raving mental, though it was a close thing. Once she’d withdrawn and I got my breath back, I glanced over my shoulder and realised that Kiki was behind Beth, licking her bumhole. Lilly was stretched out on the carpet with Kiki straddling her face.

The others weren’t idle either. Henri, Mia, Lottie, Nicole and Emma were all down on the floor having an orgy of their own. Emma seemed to be in the middle of what was a sweaty tangle of bodies, each participant licking, kissing, stroking and clawing at whatever available body part they could reach.

Looking up from Beth’s arse, Kiki twisted round for a look at the action, then turned back to us with a big smile. “Well, ladies,” she said, “why don’t we turn these two little sex parties into a big one?”

Everyone liked this idea, so we moved to join the others on the floor. I went for the nearest pussy at hand, which was Lottie’s. She had Mia riding her face and Henri was sort of lying on her, so there was no way she could know it was me down there. As I got to work on Lottie, someone’s tongue appeared between my legs. I could have moved to see who it was, but I liked not knowing – it felt naughtier that way.

The all-out sexfest of four mums, two teens and five little girls went on for a long while. Every now and then I’d take a break and catch my breath before diving back in. Others did the same, and odd little conversations broke out here and there. In one such break, I was talking to Henri while everyone else was fucking in front of us.

“Can I ask you something?” I asked. She was seated, and I was lying with my head in her lap.

“You know you can ask me anything you want, love.”

“Do you use sex toys?”

“Oh, of course.”

“Which ones?”

“Depends on my mood. For the most part, I prefer fingers and tongues, that’s so much more intimate. I’ve got a little bullet vibrator that’s a lot of fun. It’s waterproof, so I can use it in the shower.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, so Henri told me what a bullet vibrator was and how it worked.

I wanted to know more, though. “Do you ever use dildos?”

“Yeah, occasionally.”

“What, the really big ones?”

“Well, I’ve tried the bigger ones… but honestly, I prefer something smaller. Rabbits are a lot of fun. If your mum lets you pick out a toy for yourself, that’s the one you should go for.” Another explanation followed, this time about rabbit vibrators and how they worked.

I was still thinking about how it would be to get penetrated for real, though. “Do you think I might be able to use a dildo?”

Henri clucked her tongue. “Poppy, you really need to ask your mum about that.”

“Oh, I’ve spoken to Mum… she said we’d talk about it at the right time. I was just curious if you thought one would actually, you know, fit inside me.”

“You’re very young, Poppy, maybe too young. Fingers and tongues are fine, but you should be careful – the bigger stuff might injure you. But, if your mum is there and you go slow, you could take something small and see how it feels, then work your way up.”

At that point Evie caught my eye, having just returned from a quick trip to the loo. Now that she was back, Henri and I got her down on the floor and we rejoined the orgy. I positioned Evie so that I could get my mouth on her cunt, then thrust my bum out, giving Henri access to both my holes.

When I ran my tongue along Evie’s slit I could taste where the little girl hadn’t wiped herself properly. Far from being disgusted, I thought of Kiki and how much she would have enjoyed it. I can’t say it gave me a massive craving to have someone pee in my mouth, the way Kiki sometimes did – but it didn’t completely turn me off, either.

After I made Evie come, she and Lilly were both utterly knackered. Lilly climbed onto the sofa, Evie joined her, and they nestled together, soon falling asleep. Mum and Nicole carried the girls to the spare room and tucked them in, then our little sex party got cracking again.

However, the intensity had diminished somewhat – it became more loving, less frenzied. More people were resting and snacking than actually fucking, and before long we settled down into groups and pairs that were cuddled up together. It wasn’t cold at all, mind you – for such a big space, Kiki’s living room was very nicely heated, especially with the fire blazing nearby. Still, to make us feel even cosier Kiki opened this big storage ottoman, took out a bunch of super soft fluffy blankets and passed them round. She put on some soft music called bossa nova that I liked a lot, then offered to make everyone hot chocolate, but we all insisted she sit down and relax with us.

We were all in a delightfully mellow mood, our minds and bodies warmed by the afterglow of all the yummy orgasms we’d shared. I was nestled under a blanket with Mia, telling her about Kiki and how much she enjoyed watersports. Mia had never done anything like that, but didn’t think it was at all odd.

“Do you think your mum has ever tried it?” I asked her. “Or Lottie?”

“Getting peed on? Hmmm… I don’t know. They’ve never told me about anything like that. I can ask, if you like.”

I was just about to reply, but then I heard Kiki say, “Poppy darling, when is your birthday?”

“Next month… the eleventh,” I replied.

Kiki’s eyes widened. “November the eleventh? That’s Remembrance Sunday.”

“Um, what’s that about?” Mia asked. “Something important, but I can’t remember.”

I turned to Mia. “It’s the day they pay tribute, you know, say thanks to the soldiers who fought in the big wars. They lay poppies at memorials and people wear them and stuff.”

“Oh yeah, that’s it. Mum always buys us poppies that day,” said Mia.

I had to laugh. “When I was little, every time I saw people wearing them, I thought they were doing it for me, ‘cos it was my birthday. I got so upset when Mum told me what they were really for!”

“Aw, that’s cute,” said Nicole.

Mum spoke up. “Poppy was born just before 11 AM and stayed quiet for the three-minute silence, then she started screaming her lungs out! After that, I couldn’t think of a better name to give her.”

“Well, it’s only, let’s see… less than four weeks away,” Kiki said. “Have you got anything planned?”

“We’ve not spoken about it much, have we, sweetie?”

“Not really. I’m not sure what I want to do that day, really.”

“So you’ll be turning eleven, on the eleventh day of the eleventh month… and there are eleven of us here right now. Spooky, huh?” said Lottie.

“Bloody hell… That’s mad, it is!” I exclaimed, perhaps a little carried away.

“The Mad Eleven,” Kiki said. “That’s us, isn’t it? A gang of crazy lesbians.”

“And M-A-D, that stands for mothers and daughters!” Mia exclaimed. She loved to do word puzzles in her spare time, so figuring out something like that was second nature to her.

“Oh bravo, girls! That’s it. Henceforth we shall be known as the MAD Eleven,” said Kiki. “Tomorrow we’ll have a group photo, and I’ll get it framed.”

“Will we be naked in the photo?” I asked.

“No sweetie, we’ll have to wear clothes,” said Mum. “We might end up in a lot of trouble if anyone saw something like that.”

Then Kiki said, “I don’t see why we can’t pose nude, Heather. I’ll print it out myself, and I’ve got a spare frame that’ll be just perfect. I’ll hang it in my bedroom. I can’t imagine anyone I don’t trust ever being invited in there.”

“Well, I’m up for it,” said Emma, “I’ve got two pictures in my bedroom of Beth and me, from when we were naked on the beach in Portugal last year.”

“Oh, hell… why not?” said Mum.

I was thrilled to bits. We were all going to be in a naked photo together! There were a few concerns expressed around the room about wobbly bits and stretch marks, but everyone seemed keen on the idea.

“What’s that up there? Is it a guitar case?” Mia asked Kiki, pointing up to the small mezzanine floor above the kitchen. A set of spiral stairs led up to an open area with a rail for safety. There was a PC up there with a small desk and comfy chair, also a sofa. Henri sometimes went there to play video games, but otherwise they didn’t use that space very much. And yes, tucked away in the corner was a dark shape that looked a lot like a guitar case.

“Yes, it’s an acoustic guitar,” answered Kiki.

Mia seemed very interested. “Do you play, then?”

“No,” Kiki replied with a shake of the head. “I thought Henri might want to learn, but she never took to it.”

“Um… can I have a look at it, please?”

“Of course.” Kiki went upstairs to fetch the case, then brought it down. “Do you play?” she asked, handing the case to Mia.

“Uh-huh,” Mia said calmly as she withdrew the guitar. Resting it on her bare thighs, she plucked at a few strings. Even to my untrained ear, it didn’t sound right. But she fiddled with the little peg things on the end as she kept testing the strings, and it gradually began to sound more like music.

Nicole was smiling from ear to ear, “Mia would never tell you thIs, but she’s very talented; she loves to play and sing. Will you please do a song for us, baby?”

Mia made a face. “Aw, Mum… I’m okay with playing, but don’t ask me to sing.”

“But you’ve got such a lovely voice, and we’re all friends here,” Nicole said.

Mia didn’t respond, just continued to adjust the strings. I knew she had a good voice, because we’d sing along to our favourite songs in my bedroom. I’d not heard her play before, though.

Nicole turned to me, all smiles. “Poppy, maybe if you ask Mia to, she might sing for us.” Mia shot her mum a dirty look when she said that.

On one hand, I didn’t want to embarrass my girlfriend… but on the other hand, I really did want to hear her sing. “Please Mia, for me?” I said. “Just one little song?” I was being as flirty with her as I was able, even fluttering my eyelashes. Unable to remain grumpy, Mia began to giggle in spite of herself.

“Okay, okay, you win,” she finally said. “There is one song I’ve been working on. I’ve never played it to anyone before because, well, erm… anyhow, here it is. It’s dedicated to Poppy.”

“To me?” I wasn’t expecting that.

She smiled, “I know you like the song, too. It’s ‘Chasing Cars’.”

“By Snow Patrol?” Mum asked.

Mia nodded and started playing. She was nude, of course, sitting cross-legged with the fire roaring away behind her and all of us gathered around. I had a front-row seat right in front of her. The guitar looked huge against her thin frame as she deftly plucked away at the strings. I stared at her in awe, surprised by how good Mia was at this – not just passable but really, really good.

I’d heard the song many times before, and like most people had sung along with the chorus without really giving much thought to what the lyrics meant. Now Mia, my love, was singing these beautiful words to me and they took on a new significance. And her voice was positively angelic. My heart was melting fast and I was desperately trying to keep it together, but I knew I’d be crying soon.

Then she sang the second verse, all the while looking at me with her beautiful grey eyes.

I don’t quite know
How to say
How I feel
Those three words
Are said too much
They’re not enough
If I lay here
If I just lay here
Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Well, that was me gone. The dam burst and I began to cry. Lottie put her arm around me, and when I looked at her she was crying too. We all sang the last chorus together and when it ended Mia put the guitar down and fell into my arms, tears rolling down her cheeks.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the room; all the others were clapping and cheering as we knelt there naked, sobbing into each other’s arms and whispering ‘I love you,’ between gasps of breath.

“That was so beautiful… thank you,” I told her when we’d calmed down a bit.

Mia gave a little shrug. “I already liked the song, but then one day I heard it on the radio and it made me think of you, so I learned it. Gosh, when you started crying, I didn’t think I’d make it to the end!”

“You were so brilliant! I want to hear it again – not now, but another time.” Right after we make love, I was thinking.

“It’s your song… you can hear it whenever you like,” she said, then we kissed.

Mia’s song seemed to put a period on the evening’s festivities. After that, Mum stood up and stretched, then some of the others did the same, gathering up their things. I didn’t feel like moving, so Mia and I curled up under the blanket and proceeded to say ‘I love you’ to each other at least a hundred times.

“Let’s sleep here by the fire tonight,” she told me.

I loved the idea, so we got all the beanbags and cushions and a couple of blankets and made a nice snug little den before the hearth. Lottie and Henri liked the idea, and they nestled together on one of the sofas. I guess Mum was in the mood for more time with the little ones, because she spirited Lilly and Evie off to one of the guest rooms. Kiki chose to spend the night with Beth in the master bedroom, and Emma took Nicole by the hand and led her off to share the bed in Henri’s room. (That’s actually more of a spare room, as Henri mostly sleeps with her mum.)

Mia dozed off fairly quickly, but I laid awake for a few minutes longer, thinking about the wonderful day I’d had. There were so many special memories to savour, but I decided that being sung to by Mia and lying with her by the fire right then was the best part. I’d never felt so loved or in love before.

***

Lilly and Evie woke us up painfully early the next day. When they scampered into the living room shrieking with laughter, Lottie threw a cushion at them and told them, “Bugger off, for fuck’s sake,” then pulled the blanket over herself and Henri. That was a foolhardy move, because the little ones decided to make a game of it. Screaming even louder, they threw the cushion straight back at the older girls, along with a couple of pillows they snatched from the cosy nest Mia and I had built.

It wasn’t long before a pillow fight broke out, which thrilled Lilly and Evie no end… and soon enough, the rest of us were caught up in the skirmish. Turns out it’s awfully thrilling, waking up to a pillow fight with a bunch of beautiful naked girls. Eventually we were all out of breath, so Mia and I crawled back under the blankets, where the little ones joined us, while Henri and Lottie climbed back onto the sofa, where they lay in each other’s arms. We put cartoons on the telly and snuggled until the rest of the house woke up.

Nicole and Emma both had to leave straight after breakfast, so everyone got showered and ready for the nude group photo before we ate. You’d have thought the queen was coming to tea, the way everyone was fussing over their hair and make-up. I was satisfied with a shower and running a brush through my hair.

Once we were ready, Henri set the camera up on her iPhone with a timer. We grouped ourselves by the fireplace, the girls sitting and kneeling in front of the adults and Lottie. We were laughing and giggling, thrilled to be posing naked.

“Gosh, this feels awfully naughty,” said a grinning Kiki, as if she was reading my mind.

Henri hit the timer, then ran back, knelt down and said, “Everyone say ‘PUSSY!’” Which we all did, amidst raucous laughter.

Not satisfied with her first effort, Henri took two more before she got the right shot, with all of us chanting ‘pussy’ each time. When Henri declared the last shot to be satisfactory, we all gathered around the phone to see how we looked. It was a marvellous photo, all those adults and teens and kids, naked and smiling, clearly having a wonderful time.

For safety’s sake we agreed that there should only be one copy of the picture, which Kiki would keep in her home. She would print the photo herself, then delete the image from her daughter’s phone.

“Where will you hang it?” asked Emma.

“In the bedroom, I think – I’m not sure. I’m going to put a little bit underneath that says ‘The MAD Eleven’. If anyone sees it, which they won’t, I’ll just say we’re part of Emma’s naturist club.”

“That would work,” Emma said. “They’ve got nude group portraits on the wall of the clubhouse at the naturist retreat Beth and I go to.”

All too soon, it was time for Emma, Nicole and their daughters to leave. Mum said we were in no rush, though, so we stayed with Kiki and Henri. It felt very weird, half of us naked and the other half fully dressed. Lilly cried when Evie left, which set Mum off, and the rest of us also shed a few tears. Promises were made that the MAD Eleven club would meet again soon.

Once the goodbyes were said and our party reduced to five, we went out to the jacuzzi to relax. Naturally, the chatter was mostly about the previous night and how amazing it had been. There were no complaints, not a single one. We all agreed, the party had been a stonking success.

Kiki turned to me. “So what are we going to do about your birthday, young lady?”

“I’m not really sure.”

“Oh, come now… you ate my cunt half a dozen times last night, and now you’re being bashful? Tell us what you’d like to do, darling. I can see it in your face, you’ve got something of an idea.”

Honestly, I wasn’t being shy – I had no idea what I wanted to do for my birthday. Kiki was being bossy but in a funny way, so I played along, curious as to where this was leading. “Erm, see what in my face?” I said, then fluttered my eyelashes, putting on what I hoped was a sexy pout.

Kiki guffawed with glee. “Ha! There, you see? The sexy wolf in the cute sheep’s clothing. Watch out for that one,” she said to Lilly, then winked. My sister seemed to take her literally and looked my way, her eyes warm with desire.

“My darling Poppy,” Kiki continued, “if you really can’t see the obvious solution, then I’ll point it out. We’ll  have a party here with the MAD Eleven, and have loads of sexy fun spoiling the birthday girl.”

I replied “Okay. First, I’m a complete tosser for not thinking of that myself. Second, OH MY GOD, are you SERIOUS? Yes, absolutely YES!” Then I remembered my manners. “Um… please!” I added with a big cheesy grin.

Kiki chuckled. “Now, that sounds like a vote of confidence. What do you think, Heather?”

“Oh… I suspect Poppy would throttle me if I dared to say no. Seriously though, it’s a great idea. You have to let me pay though. I insist.”

“This should be interesting,” laughed Henri, “but you may as well forget it, Heather. Mum never lets anyone else pay!”

Kiki gave her daughter a sharp look, but didn’t reply. “Heather, I’m not taking your money for a few trifling drinks and some nibbles. Henri and I are delighted that you and your girls are part of our lives. Truth is, if it wasn’t Poppy’s birthday I would have invited the lot of you over anyway. I’m already looking forward to getting our little fuck club together again.”

“She’s got you there, Mum,” I chipped in.

Mum sighed. “I’m not going to win here, am I?” Everyone shook their heads. “Then I’ll concede defeat, but at least let’s call it your birthday present to Poppy, okay?

“Those are acceptable terms, darling,” Kiki said, giving Mum’s thigh a squeeze.

“Can I maybe have my birthday party here?” Lilly asked.

“Oh, honey, it’s a long way off and…” Mum began, but Kiki was having none of it and cut her off.

“Lilly, darling… of course you can have your party here. Have a think about what you’d like, and we’ll throw the best bash you ever saw.” Then she gave my sister a big sloppy kiss.

Lily eagerly responded, her tongue flickering between Kiki’s parted lips. When they finally broke apart, she declared, “I already know what I want.”

“Oh, what’s that?”

Spreading her arms wide, Lily cried, “I want a pussy party!” then burst into giggles.

“HA! Then a pussy party you shall have, my love! Oh, you wonderful child, come here. I have to play with you some more.” Lilly crawled into Kiki’s lap and they cuddled and kissed for a bit. It was very sweet to watch. For a grownup, Kiki is incredibly playful.

“My apologies…” she continued, tickling Lilly’s pussy with two fingers, which made my little sister squeal and giggle. “This little minx is distracting me. Now where were we… ah yes, Poppy’s party. Any ideas on a theme, young lady?”

“Erm, not really. I’ve not had a birthday party since I was very little.”

“How about making it fancy dress?” said Henri.

“That’s not a bad idea,” said Mum.

“Hmmm, interesting. Your young lady likes to be on display, does she not?” said Kiki in that deliciously posh voice of hers.

“Poppy does have a bit of an exhibitionist streak in her, yes. So… what did you have in mind?”

Kiki gave me a mischievous look, then told Mum. “I’ll speak to you about this when the birthday girl can’t hear us. Basically, there’s a little prep work you’ll need to do.”

“I’m intrigued,” said Mum.

I spoke up. “Me too! You mean that’s it – I won’t know any more about my birthday until it happens?”

“Yup,” said Kiki, quite smugly.

“Damn. That’s tough!” said Henri with a chuckle.

I slumped back, pressing the back of my hand to my forehead. “Ooouugghh… I’m going to die of curiosity before we ever get to my birthday,” I moaned, putting on a big fake pout. The truth was that I didn’t really want to know at all. I adore being surprised.

Then Lilly did the sweetest thing. Getting out of Kiki’s lap, she came over and gave me a big hug and a kiss. “If you don’t know what’s going to happen,” she told me, “then I won’t know either.”

“Aw, yeah. Thanks, sis! We can pester Mum about it together, you and me!”

“YEAH! We can lick her pussy until she screams, and not stop licking till she tells us the secret!” We all burst out laughing when she said that.

Shaking her head, Mum said, “God help me, I’m doomed.” Then everyone laughed again.

It was just one of the great memories I took from that weekend. The five of us started making dirty jokes, coming up with all these hot ways we could drive Mum crazy until she told us what Kiki was planning for my party. Of course, all the chatter about sex started to work its wicked magic on us, and soon we were all in the mood to fuck.

This time, I went straight for my sister. All I’d done with her during the party was swap a few heated kisses, and the time seemed right to make up for that. Hoisting her up onto the edge of the jacuzzi, I burrowed between Lilly’s thighs and started right in, licking her smooth slit.

“Oh, God… I love you, Poppy,” she moaned.

Mum must’ve wanted in on the hot incest action, because I soon heard her behind me, whispering, “Oh, my precious little girls.” Then I felt her touch my pussy.

“Want to fuck, Mum?” Henri said.

“Oh, always, dearest – always,” Kiki replied, then I could hear a bit of splashing as the two lovers came together.

My mother’s finger was buried in my cunt – moving around in little circles, which she knew I loved. Then she pressed her face between the cheeks of my arse and licked my bumhole.

I was working hard to make Lilly come, but I wanted a quick glimpse of what Henri and Kiki were up to, so I replaced my mouth with my fingers for a few seconds, just long enough to see that mother and daughter had climbed out of the large tub and were stretched out on the tiles, grinding their pussies together. I watched them for a few seconds, then got back to going down on Lilly.

Just in time, too – because seconds later, my baby sister cried out, a shudder convulsing her body as she came. I fastened my mouth to Lilly, drinking the nectar from her pretty pink flower.

All of a sudden I felt something inside like a little storm, churned up by Mum’s finger – and just like that, I was caught up in an orgasm of my own. Somehow Mum managed to keep licking my arse, even though I had a hard time keeping still. I finally had to beg her to stop.

My sister and I exchanged knowing looks once we’d broken apart, then without a word, we both attacked Mum. We got her out of the tub and down on the tiles and went to work. Lilly slid her hand into Mum’s cunt and fucked her hard, while I nursed on her clit. I occasionally stole glances at Kiki and Henri, who were now licking each other.

Lilly and I had our mother screaming like she’d gone totally mental. She even fainted for a few seconds, but returned to us before we had the chance to panic. Then the three of us got to watch as Henri, then Kiki got each other off, then shared wet, pussy-flavoured kisses.

It was a full half-hour before any resemblance of normality returned to our little party. Normal, she says. I wonder, is there anyone on the planet who thinks that what we’re doing is normal? Actually, I hope there are lots… because we are the happiest people I know, so we must be doing something right.

***

In the coming days, Lilly began to regret the rash decision she’d made, to be left out of the preparations for my birthday party. She was half-crazed with curiosity and using all sorts of tricks on Mum to find out what was going on, most of them sexual. But Mum stood firm, no matter how mercilessly my sister teased her. “You did a wonderful thing for your sister,” she said, “and I’m going to see that you stick to it.”

Truth be told, Lilly wasn’t very good at teasing. Don’t get me wrong, she knew how to get Mum hot and bothered. It’s just that in the process, she’d become so aroused herself that Mum always got to fuck her anyway. It got to where my sister and my mother were making love nearly every day. Whenever I caught them at it, I’d usually strip off and join in the fun. Needless to say, there was an awful lot of sex taking place in our home.

Me, I didn’t bother Mum about my birthday plans, or what Kiki had in store for the occasion. I knew whatever they came up with would be brilliant, so it suited me just fine to wait for the surprise.

A few days after our big sex party, Henri and I were having lunch together at school. It was Friday, so Mia was in music class. Beth came bouncing over, brimming over with the joys of life. Honestly, if she was any cuter she’d turn into a Disney princess, complete with bluebirds fluttering round her head.

“Well, you look happy,” I said, which had to be the understatement of the year.

Surprised, she glanced at Henri. “Haven’t you told her?”

“Nope, I thought you’d like to,” Henri said, wearing a mysterious smile.

I looked from one to the other. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, only the best thing in the whole world!” Beth exclaimed, pressing a hand to her heart. “Kiki’s taking me away for the weekend!”

“Fuck me! Just the two of you?”

“Uh-huh… we leave tonight! She’s picking me up after school and we’re driving to Bath. She’s booked us a hotel suite! Can you believe it?”

Henri was grinning. “It seems that Mother has fallen head over heels for our red-headed angel here. Beth, I’ve stayed in that suite with Mum before. Trust me, you are going to have the best time ever.”

It was easy to tell from Beth’s flushed cheeks and shining eyes that Kiki wasn’t the only one who was in love. I took her hand and squeezed it. “Oh, Beth, I’m so pleased for you! Kiki is wonderful, and I can see why you’re so excited. And being whisked away right after school, too! Awesome!”

Henri and I were thrilled for Beth, while she could barely contain herself. We spent the rest of the lunch break trying to calm her down, before some nosy teacher noticed and decided to investigate.

***

The relationships forged between the members of the MAD Eleven were deep and immediate. We felt an affinity with each other, all part of a sisterhood that shared a secret, intimate bond. And even if you were a child like me, it didn’t mean that you were taken less seriously. Sure, the adults looked after the best interests of the youngsters, but we were free to speak our minds and the grownups let us have a voice.

That same Friday night Kiki took Beth off for their romantic weekend, Mum would do something that proved she really did take me seriously… as a daughter and as a lover.

On to Chapter Seventeen!Sweet Poppy, Chapter 17

by Kinkys_sis

I’d always known I was only attracted to girls, but never understood why. I knew it wasn’t normal, and that made me strange, peculiar, different. Yet I didn’t seem so different to the rest of my peers.

So why did they chatter all day long about this boy or that boy, while I was busy thinking about how cute other girls were?

I didn’t let that worry me much, although at times it did leave me out of the conversation. They all saw me as being a bit aloof. Little did they know that I had my own thoughts.

It never got me down because I had a lot going for me. I was our school’s boxing champion at fourteen. I was the vice-captain of the under-sixteens soccer team and in the athletics squad.

In short, I was a school hero.

But there was something missing from my life. I desperately wanted a girlfriend, a sexual girlfriend rather than a pal. I already had plenty of female friends.

I spent hours considering, wondering which girl I wanted to make mine. More than that, which girl might be amenable to being seduced. I didn’t find an answer; didn’t even know if there was one.

***

I’d run miles that day, far more than I normally did. Perhaps that’s why I lost concentration – I was simply running on auto-pilot, my mind flitting from one girl to another as I worked on my mental tick list.

Then I was falling, tumbling head over heels down a steep hillside. I remember thinking This is bad before I saw the huge tree ahead of me.

A brief explosion of pain…

My first thought was of the hard, searing agony in my head. Then I felt sick to my stomach and nearly retched, but somehow held it down.

I vaguely heard a voice penetrating the fog that clogged my mind, but couldn’t fathom what it said or where it came from. Then relief — God, it felt good. It was cold, something very cold resting on my forehead. The pain eased a little, the flashes of light faded.

Was I dead? Were the angels talking to me? That was what it sounded like at the time. This sweet, gentle voice was soothing me, telling me to lie still. But then it was gone as everything began to spin. I drifted into blackness, everything fading away.

***

I felt like a drowning person, desperately struggling to reach the surface. I could see light, and fought to get to it. Once more, I felt the relief of something cold on my face.

I cautiously opened an eye, but that set the world to spinning again. I focused on a light somewhere above, concentrating as best I could. Finally, everything became steady.

This time, the voice was clearer, “Lie still, pretty one… don’t try to move.” The damp, cool cloth bathed my face once more.

A blurry image peered down at me. Fingers lifted an eyelid, examining. Then an awful smell as something wafted over my nose. Whatever it was, it worked — the fog was clearing fast. The last dizziness went away.

“Now close your eyes and rest.” I felt the lightest touch of fingers tracing across my face, then they drifted away just as I did.

***

I came awake with a start — where was I? The memory of falling flooded back – bouncing down the hill, tumbling over and over until I hit the tree. Then there was that voice I’d heard, someone soothing my pain away.

Carefully, I eased myself up on an elbow. This time, the room only spun a little. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. Once more, I opened my eyes.

She was sitting right beside me, fast asleep with an open book on her lap. The strangest, yet most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Her skin was a deep olive-brown sort of hue. She had an enormous mane of hair; rich, luxuriant black hair.

But above all, what made the woman stand out was her jewelry. Huge golden bangles hung from her ears. Beads and chains festooned her neck. Perhaps a dozen or more bracelets sparkled on each wrist. A real Romany gypsy, I suddenly realised.

For the first time, I took a glance around. Flickering candles lit the room, reflecting the bright, almost garish colours that covered every available space. I saw the curved ceiling, the hanging pots and pans… of course, I was in a caravan.

The sheet that covered me slipped down enough to reveal that I was stark naked underneath. First I felt embarrassed, then horrified to see the horrible bruises that were already showing on my bare body, so many of them. I let out a cry of pain when I tried to move my arm, then noticed the shoulder was covered with heavy tape.

My cry had awakened the woman. She reached out to ease me back down. Her voice, strangely accented, instructed me to be still. “Do not try to use that arm, not just yet. You dislocated your shoulder. It is now as it should be, but will be very sore for a while.”

She fetched a mug, brought it to me. “Let me help you drink this. You will not like it, but it is necessary for your recovery.” She was right, it was the foulest stuff I’d ever tasted, but I did as instructed and swallowed it down as fast as I could.

She sat once more, watching me as I began to drift again. I was almost asleep when she said, “I need to go out for a while, but my daughter will watch over you until I return.”

Opening my eyes, I saw that someone else was now seated in the chair – a little girl, who was smiling at me, “Sleep,” she said, “I will be here.”

I knew at once that it was the angel I’d heard earlier. The sweetest voice, coming from a vision of purest beauty. She touched her lips with a finger, then laid it on mine. “Go to sleep… dream of nice things.”

I felt her pull the sheet around my shoulders as my eyes drifted shut. Her hand seemed to brush against my breasts for no obvious reason. Was she feeling me up? Don’t be ridiculous, I told myself just before I fell asleep.

***

It was dark when I woke, though a small lamp burning in one corner gave off a little light. I was bursting for a pee and I seemed to be alone. What should I do?

I began to raise myself, conscious of my shoulder, then felt the weight of an arm that lay draped across my bare tummy. Now that my eyes had adjusted to the gloom, I saw that the little girl was lying there, pressed to my side. It was too dark for me to make out her features, but I noticed with a start that she was naked, just like me.

Her eyes flashed open as I moved. “You are awake.”

My head hurt when I nodded. “I need to go for a… a pee.”

The girl carefully sat up in the bed, then stood. Fetching a robe, she draped it over my shoulders, though she didn’t bother to cover herself. “I will help you, but try to keep your bad arm still. Here… swing your legs down, then stand very slowly.”

I ached in a thousand places, each movement an agony. The girl helped steady me as I struggled to my feet. Holding me as gently as possible, she led me to the door. I saw her pick up the oil lamp on the way. Four wooden steps led down to the ground. My shaky legs barely held me as I cautiously descended.

She lifted a bucket that hung on a hook at the side of the caravan, then set it on the ground. By then, I felt ready to burst. I felt myself sway when I tried to crouch, but the girl reached out to me, held me steady.

I’d never peed with someone at my side before, but this was no time for embarrassment – my need was too urgent. When I finished, I slowly pushed myself back up. The girl reached for a toilet roll that had been placed near the edge of the top stair, then peeled away a length of the paper. I was shocked when she didn’t hand it over, but reached out to wipe me herself.

As she led me back inside, I saw there were only two bunk beds. Her mother was asleep in one, and the other was where I had been until just a moment ago. The girl took my robe away, leaving me naked again,  and helped me back into bed.

“Do you want something to drink?” she asked.

I shook my head … ouch! Wincing from the pain of it, I burrowed back into the comforting softness of the pillow. The girl didn’t speak, just climbed into bed and stretched out next to me. Clearly, this bed was only meant for one, which explained why she’d been so close when I woke.

It had been chilly outside, but now I felt the little girl’s warmth as she snuggled close. Before she drew the covers up, she gently touched what I suspected was a nasty looking bruise. Then she leaned in and kissed it. “Your injuries will soon heal; my magic will soothe them away.”

She had placed the lamp nearby, so now I could clearly see how lovely she was. I placed her at ten, perhaps eleven years old. She watched me as I studied her, then spoke softly. “I had a dream that a beautiful girl would come to me. Now you have, only not quite the way I expected.” She shook her head. “Something less painful would have been better.”

Suddenly, she drew forward and kissed my mouth. As she gently broke away, I heard her sigh, “You are my dream girl.” Then the girl rested her head next to mine. Once more, her arm was lying across my body, only not on my tummy this time. Her wrist was just brushing the underside of my left breast.

My mind was in a whirl. I’d also dreamed of a girlfriend, many times – but naturally, I’d been thinking of a girl my own age. Now, here was this little-girl beauty, assuming that I’d been delivered to her, claiming me as hers.

I knew this was wrong, she was much too young, yet… I couldn’t help the tug in my heart. Slipping my working arm under the girl’s neck, I pulled her closer.

Again she sighed, then I felt a delicious shock of arousal when her hand covered my breast. Even in my battered condition, my nipple responded to the intimacy of her touch. I was wondering whether to kiss her myself, but she seemed to know what I was thinking and shook her head. “Not just yet,” she whispered. “Time for you to sleep, my dream girl.” That was the last thing I remembered.

***

The sounds and smells of cooking dragged me from a deep slumber. I was alone in the bed. Moving slowly, I sat up and tested my muscles. It didn’t feel too bad except for my head and shoulder – they still ached badly. I hadn’t realised that my head was bandaged, not until I reached up to find out where the pain was centred.

The girl’s mother, now busy over a small gas stove, had noticed me moving. “How do you feel, little one? Are you hungry?”

Actually, I was starving, come to think of it. God knows when I’d last eaten. In fact, it suddenly occurred to me that I didn’t have a clue what day it was, or how long I had been there. So many questions buzzing through my head, and I needed answers.

I forgot all that when the door opened and I saw my little angel, carrying a bowl of hot water. Her eyes lit up when she saw me sitting on the side of the bed. Her smile was something else, so very beautiful. She came straight to me, and her mother didn’t bat an eyelid when she kissed me full on the lips.

She took a flannel from the bowl and said, “Sit still.” I obeyed, drinking in the sight of her as she washed me. She examined my bruises as she went – sometimes nodding approvingly, frowning at others as she gently touched them.

When she had finished, the girl draped a linen sling around my neck, then carefully guided my bad arm through the loop until it was supported. It wasn’t until she fetched the robe I’d used earlier that it struck me: I’d been sitting there quite naked the whole time. More surprisingly, I didn’t feel at all self-conscious.

“Come, eat,” the mother said.

She served scrambled eggs, along with chopped fried tomatoes and bacon, which I managed to eat one handed. My angel laughed when she saw me chasing the last few pieces of egg around my plate.

I took coffee when asked, and it was delicious. Now I felt much better.

“So, tell us… what is your name? Where do you come from?” the woman asked me, adding, “You can call me Rose.”

For a moment I felt panicky, unable to remember my name, but then it formed in my mind. “Elizabeth… no, wait… it’s Liz.” Then I panicked again. “How long have I been here? Did – did you find my phone?”

They each took one of my hands, then the mother spoke. “Calm yourself, child. Two days you have been here… and yes, we have your phone. We should maybe have phoned the police and told them of your accident.” She nodded toward the little girl. “Bella asked me not to… she said it was meant to be, your coming to us. She sees things, does my Bella, I have learnt to listen. But still, I worried someone might be fretting over your disappearance.” Her eyes met mine. “You still do not say where you are from.”

“Near to Dereham, but no, no one will be worried about me. My mother is in America, I’ve been alone for a while, and I don’t expect her back for weeks yet… months, even.”

So. My angel was named Bella, and her mother’s name was Rose. Gypsy Rose, I told myself, and almost laughed at the thought. And Bella … that put me in mind of belladonna, also known as deadly nightshade. Or bella donna – beautiful woman. Her mother said she saw things, so must be the former, but I couldn’t believe there was anything deadly about her.

When I mentioned being on my own, little Bella gave me a dazzling smile. “Then you can stay here with us, with me! You heard me call and you came. I knew you would. You really are my dream girl.”

Bella unfastened the bandage that was wrapped about my head, and her mother examined the wound. “You took a very nasty knock, Liz, but it looks to be healing fine.” She held my face and peered deep into my eyes for what seemed an age until she finally said, “Yes, you are okay. There is no lasting damage. The pain should disappear quite soon.”

Clothes were a problem. My running things were badly torn from the tumble I’d taken. I mentioned that to Rose and she replied, “Will we ride to your home and fetch some things? It is about eight miles from here, I think.” She’d clearly decided I would be staying with them. When I saw the longing in Bella’s eyes, I had to agree. How could I refuse my new-found angel?

It was only mid-morning. Rose quickly hitched the horse, and before long we were bouncing and swaying along the country lane. Before our departure, she told me to return to bed, insisting that I still needed rest.

Bella was seated on the bed next to me, her fingers tracing exquisitely across my bare skin. Despite the desire I felt, I still wasn’t comfortable with letting myself go with this child – a beautiful child maybe, but still a child. She saw my doubt and began to whisper to me in a steady chant.

Listening to Bella’s words, my resistance slowly faded, while the need to make love to her only grew stronger. The smile on her face told me that she knew my hunger, longed for it. “You have no choice,” she murmured, “you are mine, Liz… let yourself come to me, I am the love you have waited for.”

How could she know such things? So young, and yet there was something about her that said more. Her fingers found my breasts, lingering here and there. She circled a nipple with a fingertip, only barely touching. She watched my face, she read my expressions, understood what I was feeling.

“You love me, you cannot resist me. I am the one you have been searching for, you are the one that I knew would come. Relax, surrender to my touch. Feel the love I offer, it is yours to take.”

She took a nipple between her fingers, gave it a pinch. I heard my gasp as my body pulsed with feelings… God, such feelings. I reached for her with my good arm and pulled her in, seeing a look of triumph in her eyes.

Then her lips met mine. Her lips, so beautifully soft, so sweet. As I drew her even closer, the kiss became something I’d only dreamed of. My heart surged, my pulse raced, I sucked her in. I was lost to this girl. I suddenly felt a need, so much need… and all for my angel.

Angel, devil, witch? I no longer cared, all I knew was that I had to have her.

Bella gave my tit a hard squeeze – how could she know how much I loved that? – then laughed joyfully as her hand crept lower to stroke my belly. She spoke again. “Feel my love, Liz. It is all for you, my dream girl. We were meant to be one, you and I. Now join with me, love me.”

My reservations were gone, my thoughts were only of Bella. God, I adored her.

Her fingers were already halfway there, but the heat was upon me and wouldn’t be denied. I seized her hand in mine and thrust it between my legs, pressing it to my pussy. “Love me, Bella,” I cried, “Please love me – I need you so much!”

Her tinkling laughter was like music, the scent of her skin intoxicating. Bella delved into me – I didn’t know how little girl’s fingers could go so deep, but they seemed to fill me completely.

Lord, how she loved me. One moment caressing me deep inside, then briefly teasing my clit before sliding down again, between my pussy lips… and further. There was the sweet shock I experienced when Bella touched my rose, a place I’d never thought of as a source of pleasure. Her fingers trailed up and down the crack of my bum – God, the sensations that gave me! I felt the need for her to press a finger inside… but she didn’t, just tickled around and around my most private place, serenaded by the melody of her laugh.

Then her fingers vanished; Bella was no longer touching me. I waited, nothing. Opening my eyes, I found her studying me with a searching look. “My beautiful Liz… do you understand now? You are now mine, my lover forevermore. Are you willing to accept what I offer you?”

I gazed into her eyes and saw the love, it was everything I’d ever wanted. “Bella, my little witch… I love you, I am yours.”

She fell into my arms, our mouths crushed together, and we began to make love for real.

The caravan rocked as it moved along. Was it the roughness of the lane, or perhaps our urgent fucking?

From somewhere above I heard a laugh. It was Bella’s mother, welcoming me to their family.

The End

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 particolored, 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!