Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by BlueJean

I was woken by the noisy cockerel who lived on the neighbouring farm, as I was most mornings. I dragged myself out of bed and went downstairs to be greeted by an odd sight.

Having consumed more than her share of wine, Sadie had spent the night on our couch and was sound asleep, a quilt half-covering her nakedness.

Millie was seated on the floor, stroking her teacher’s hair and softly singing a strange lullaby.

Rest tired eyes a while
Sweet is thy baby’s smile
Angels are guarding and they watch o’er thee

Sleep, sleep, grah mo chree
Your sorrows we do see
Angels are guarding and they watch o’er thee

The birdeens sing a fluting song
They sing to thee the whole day long
Wee fairies dance o’er hill and dale
For very love of thee

I hadn’t taught her that song. Perhaps Sadie had at school.

Was Millie sleepwalking again? I was getting increasingly worried about her. She was saying and doing strange things and I had no idea where it was all coming from.

“Sleep, my daughter,” Millie whispered, still gazing at Sadie.

When I put my weight on the squeaky stair, Millie turned toward me.

“I wasn’t doing anything wrong, Mummy,” she said, her face half concealed in shadow.

“I didn’t say you were, sweetie. Who taught you that nice song?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

Millie shook her head. She reached out to gently poke Sadie’s cheek, then giggled.

“Don’t poke your teacher, you don’t know where she’s been,” I said, pulling back the curtains.

“Who’s poking who?” Sadie mumbled, struggling to open her eyes.

“Miss Laine, why did you sleep on our sofa last night?” Millie asked.

“I had too much lemonade, Millie Newton,” Sadie groaned.

Freya came down the stairs and gave me a sheepish look. I wasn’t sure how much she had seen or heard last night, but knew that we would need to have a talk about it at some point.

“Good morning, elder daughter,” I said to her as she shuffled towards the kitchen.

“Uh, morning,” she replied without looking back at me.

“What’s up with her?” Sadie said as she sat up and wrapped the quilt around her nude body. Her clothes were in a pile on the floor.

“Freya’s always grumpy in the morning,” Millie explained.

“Mum!” Freya shouted from the kitchen.

“Yeah?” I called back.

“Bee’s done a poo on the kitchen floor!”

“Oh, lovely,” I said and headed into the kitchen.

Bee was lying on the floor sphinx-like, her ears pricked up, mesmerised by the turd three inches in front of her.

Freya recoiled as if it was going to rear up and attack her. “I’m not cleaning it up! I don’t do poo!” she declared.

Sadie and Millie came into the kitchen to see what all the fuss was about.

“All right, relax, it’s only… hold on…” I moved closer to the offending deposit.

If it was poo, it was certainly the spikiest one I’d ever seen. I looked closer.

“Oh, my goodness. It’s a baby hedgehog,” I said.

“Is it?” Freya said and stepped closer to the spiky little ball.

I figured that Bee must have very gently picked it up from outside when Millie had let her out into the garden for her morning ablutions, then carried it into the kitchen where it sat curled up in a defensive ball.

“Ahhh, it’s so cute!” Millie gushed, squatting down to get a good look at the poor creature.

“Aww, where’s its mum?” Sadie said.

“Take it outside and put it under the hedge, Millie. We’ll leave it some water and a bit of dog food, and hopefully it’ll find its way back to its mother,” I said. Millie carefully picked up the hedgehog and carried it out into the garden.

After Sadie had got dressed and taken some Alka-Seltzer for her inevitable hangover, she headed home, then the girls and I went out for our morning walk across the fields and through the woods.

The morning mist had left pearly drops of moisture hanging upon spiderwebs, their shimmering gossamer threads draped between the bushes and trees. The call of a red deer stag marking out his territory roared in the distance somewhere.

While Millie was off exploring in the forest with Bee, I decided that this would be a good time to have a little chat with Freya.

“Do you want to talk about last night?” I began.

“What do you mean?” Freya said, kicking a pine cone across the ground.

“I know you were watching Sadie and me. I could see you.”

“Did Miss Laine see me, too?” Freya asked, looking mortified at the thought.

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Phew.”

“So why were you watching us?” I asked her.

“I just… I heard noises and wondered what you were doing, that’s all,” Freya told me, her face flushed a bright pink.

“Were you shocked when you saw us?”

Freya shrugged. “Yeah, a bit, I suppose.”

“But you enjoyed watching, right?” I said, wondering if I really needed to be asking her that.

Freya nodded. She picked up the pine cone and pretended to inspect it to hide her embarrassment.

“I don’t think your teacher would appreciate one of her pupils watching her masturbate,” I said, but I wasn’t so sure that was true.

“Sorry,” Freya said.

I put my arm around her. “But I don’t mind if you want to watch me.”

Did I actually just say that? Why did I say it?

Freya looked up at me. “Really?”

“Really,” I said and squeezed her shoulder. Too late to take it back now.

“Really really?”

“Really really.”

“Really really really?!”

“Really really really!” We both laughed.

I looked at her and made a decision. A bad one, probably. “Why don’t you come to my room tonight when Millie’s asleep and I’ll let you watch me again.”

“Okay, then,” Freya said and did that embarrassed little chuckle through her nose.

Me and my big mouth.

Millie and Bee came crashing through the ferns.

“Mummy and Freya! Come and look at what we found!” Millie shouted, and we followed her into the trees.

She led us to a patch of forest that was covered in cup-shaped mushrooms, orange on the outside and a deep red within. They were called scarlet elf cups, I remembered, although I thought they only grew in the winter months and early spring.

“Wow, good find,” I said to Millie, bending down to inspect the brightly coloured fungi. I put Bee on her lead in case she tried to sample the mushrooms. I was pretty sure they weren’t poisonous, but they probably wouldn’t do her much good either.

“That’s not what I wanted to show you, Mummy. Look!” Millie exclaimed, and I walked over to where she was pointing.

Hidden amongst the trees was some kind of structure made of grey, weathered stone, half-destroyed but still recognisable.

“What is it, Mum?” Freya asked me.

“It’s an old fireplace. I think someone must have lived here once,” I said, amazed.

I had a look around. The rest of the building was long gone, but as I cleared away some of the ferns and brambles, I found the remains of four corner posts that had mostly been eaten away by rot, but were still protruding a couple of inches above the ground. The hut had been very small, probably just a single room, and I guessed the walls would have been made from wattle and daub, which would have decayed long ago.

“Goodness me, a hut in the woods. How mysterious!” I said, intrigued. Who could have been living out here in the forest?

“Mum, Millie’s acting weird again,” Freya said, gesturing towards her sister.

Millie had placed her hands on the remains of the fireplace and had zoned out.

“Millie?” I said to her, and she turned to me with a startled look.

“She just made medicine for sick people, Mummy. She didn’t hurt anyone. She didn’t,” Millie told me, clearly distressed.

Not knowing what else to do, I knelt down and took her face in my hands. “Millie, come back to us.”

“Huh?”

“You’re scaring Mummy. I don’t know where you keep going but I need you here with me, okay?” I told her.

“Okay,” Millie said, her eyes solemn.

“No more deer hugging or Dryads,” I said and tweaked her nose, trying to lighten the mood.

“Someone left flowers,” Freya said and pointed inside the fireplace.

Someone had indeed left an offering, and recently. The bunch of flowers were dried and shrivelled, but couldn’t have been more than a few weeks old. I didn’t want to think about who had left them or why, I just wanted to be away from this place.

“Let’s go home,” I said to the girls and we left the ruined hut and its mysteries behind.

***

Mum sent Millie and me up to the shops to buy bread, milk and some eggs and so we took a shortcut through one of the fields where some farm workers were busy making bales of hay. Last year, Mum and Miss Laine had helped with the hay making, hoofing the heavy bales while Millie and me sat on the back of a big trailer that was being pulled around by a tractor.

We waved to the workers and they waved back.

It was another hot day and I had my sunhat on but Millie had brought her little pink and white parasol instead, to keep her shaded from the sun.

“Millie, can you keep a secret?” I asked my sister as we climbed over a stile and headed towards the village green.

“Yeah, I’m really good at keeping secrets. Except that one time I told Mummy about you flashing your kitty, but you didn’t say that was a secret so it doesn’t count.”

I was dying to tell someone about what I had seen and Millie was probably the only person I could almost trust. “I saw Mum and Miss Laine doing rude things last night,” I told her. Telling secrets was so satisfying.

“What sort of rude things?” Millie asked me.

“They were touching themselves in front of each other.”

Millie looked at me suspiciously. “Are you telling lies?”

“No, I’m not, I swear. Mum had no trousers on and Miss Laine had her skirt pulled up and they both had their knickers down.”

“Did you see Miss Laine’s kitty?”

“Not really, her leg was in the way, but they were touching their kitties and saying rude things to each other.”

“Wow, I wish I’d seen it too,” Millie said, twirling her parasol.

“But that’s not even the best bit. Mum saw me watching and I thought she’d definitely tell me off, but she didn’t. Well, not really. She just said Miss Laine wouldn’t like me spying on her. But then — and I’m not lying here, okay? — Mum said I could watch her touch herself again if I wanted.”

I didn’t want to tell her that I’d be doing it that night, because I knew she wouldn’t go to sleep and probably even follow me to Mum’s room.

“That’s not fair. Why can’t I watch, too?” Millie said, pouting.

“You’re not old enough really, but one day Mum might let you,” I told my sister and felt very mature for saying it.

“It’s still not fair,” Millie said. I hoped she wouldn’t sulk for too long.

The post office was the only shop left in the village and Mum said that it had to start selling all kinds of different things otherwise it wouldn’t be able to make enough money to stay open anymore. The post mistress, Mrs. Jeffries, was a roly poly lady (Mum says it’s not nice to call people fat) who was really funny and friendly but always had something wrong with her and liked to tell everyone about it.

“‘Ello girls! Come to pinch all my stuff, have you?” Mrs. Jeffries said as we entered the shop.

Millie giggled.

“Hi, Mrs. Jeffries, how are you?” I said, then remembered that asking Mrs. Jeffries how she was is not a good idea. Well, it was too late now.

“Been shitting through the eye of a needle all day, I have! Bloody venison last night went straight through me, it did. I said to Mr. Jeffries it would. ‘Too bloody rich’, I says to him. ‘You know I can’t be eating rich food like that, Jeff’, I says. Shat so much I gave myself a headache, I did!”

“Oh. Sorry to hear that,” I said, trying not to laugh.

And yes, Mrs. Jeffries’ husband is actually called Jeffrey Jeffries. I don’t know what his parents were thinking.

Millie had noticed a canary that was perched in a cage on the shop counter. “Whose bird is this, Mrs. Jeffries?” she asked.

“Oh, it belonged to an old lady that Jeff used to do some work for, but she died so he brought it back home,” Mrs. Jeffries explained.

“Is it yours now, then?”

“I suppose it is, Millie, yeah.”

“Why is it in a cage?”

“It’d fly away if it weren’t, ya daft girl!” Mrs. Jeffries told my sister and laughed.

Millie didn’t find it funny though. “You should let it go. It’s not nice to keep it in a cage.”

“It wouldn’t last a day, Millie. It’s probably never been outside that cage in its life.”

“How much will you sell it to me for?” Millie asked.

“I can’t sell it to you, dear. Mr. Jeffries would be ever so angry with me if I did.”

Millie pulled out the five pound note that Mum had given us for the shopping and offered it to Mrs. Jeffries. “I’ll pay you £5 for it.”

Mrs. Jeffries crossed her arms. “It’s not for sale, my lovely. ‘Ave a bag of sweets instead.”

Millie looked at her little folded parasol sadly, then put it on the counter along with the money. “I really like this umbrella but you can have it and the £5 too for the bird, okay?”

Mrs Jeffries looked like she was at her wits end. “I can’t sell the bird to you, Millie! Be a good girl now.”

“That money’s for the shopping, Millie,” I said to my sister and she looked like she was going to cry.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come back for you soon,” Millie told the canary and then handed me the money. “I’m going home,” she said to me, then stormed out of the shop.

“What’s got into her?” Mrs Jeffries asked me.

“Sorry, she’s been acting weird lately,” I told her.

When I got home with the shopping, Millie was washing Mum’s Beetle with a big sponge. I could barely see her through all the soap bubbles.

“Why’s Millie washing your car?” I asked Mum in the kitchen as she put away the things I’d bought.

“She asked me for little jobs she could do for some pocket money. I even had to haggle with her,” Mum said, pointing to a piece of paper on the worktop.

I went over to take a look. It was done in Millie’s handwriting and read:

1 wash mummies car = £2.20
2 water veggingtables and flowers = £1.75
3 shampoo bee and trim her claws = £1.45
4 hang washing out = £1
5 hoover hole house = £2.50
6 massarge mummy = 80p (Mum got a good deal there)

I knew what my sister was trying to do and I was kind of proud of her. So I helped her hang the laundry out because it was hard for her to reach the washing line, then I held Bee for her while she lathered her with doggy shampoo and cut her nails.

By the time Millie had finished hoovering round the house, she looked absolutely exhausted. I put the hoover away for her and Mum gave her the pocket money she’d earned.

Millie looked at her watch. “I have to go to the post office before it closes,” she said to me.

“You won’t make it in time, even if you run all the way,” I told her. “But I have an idea.”

I took her on my bike, pedalling it up the road as fast as I could while Millie sat in the front basket, her legs dangling over the edge. She was wedged in so tight I wondered if I’d ever be able to get her out.

It took six minutes and forty three seconds to get to the post office. Not quite my best, but if my sister hadn’t been weighing me down I’m pretty sure it would have been a world record. Millie jumped out of the basket and ran into the shop before I’d even brought my bike to a halt.

“Back again, are you?” Mrs. Jeffries said. “I’m closing up now so you’ll have to ‘urry up if you wanna nick all me sweets.”

“Mrs. Jeffries, I brought more money, can I buy your bird now, please?” Millie said excitedly.

“Oh, not this again, Millie. I already told you, I can’t let you buy it!” Mrs. Jeffries told my sister, losing her patience a bit.

“I have £9.70 pocket money,” My sister said, then put the money down on the counter. She pulled some change from her other pocket and dropped it on the counter with the rest of the money. “And however much that is. I think there’s about £2 there.”

“Oh, Millie, dear,” Mrs. Jeffries said, scratching her head.

“It’s more than twice as much as I offered you before. It’s a really good deal for you!” Millie said, looking at Mrs. Jeffries hopefully.

“Please, Mrs. Jeffries. She worked really hard to get all that money,” I said.

Mrs. Jeffries let out a big sigh. “Bloody ‘ell, I won’t be getting any rumpy pumpy when Mr. Jeffries finds out,” she said and waved a hand at us. “All right, you little cowbags, take the bird!”

“Yes!” Millie shouted and jumped up and down in triumph. She put her face down next to the cage and spoke to the canary inside. “You can come home with us now. You’ll like it where we live.”

“Go on then, you pair of bullies, take the bird before I change my mind,” Mrs. Jeffries said, rubbing her temples. “Ooh, I think I’ve got a migraine coming on again.”

“Do you want to count the money?” I said as Millie walked out of the post office with the cage in her arms, cooing softly to the frightened looking canary inside.

“No, don’t worry about that, Freya. Say ‘ello to your Mum for me, won’t you?”

“Yeah, I will. Thanks Mrs. Jeffries,” I said and followed Millie outside.

I took it a lot slower on the way home. Millie sat in the basket with the cage in her lap, humming a little tune to the canary while I made sure not to ride over too many bumps.

When we got home, Millie put the birdcage down on the kitchen worktop. Mum was sitting at the table with her beekeeping books, writing stuff down on a notepad. “We have parasites in some of the colonies, girls. Varroa mites, I think. Need to get rid of them before they take hold.”

The canary chirped and Mum looked up in surprise. “Um… why is there a bird in our kitchen, please?”

Millie looked a bit worried. I don’t think she was sure how this would go. “I bought it from the post office with my pocket money.”

“The post office sells canaries now?” Mum asked.

“It wasn’t really for sale,” I explained. “Mr. Jeffries got it from a dead lady but we asked Mrs. Jeffries to sell it to us.”

Mum just peered at the bird over her glasses.

“I’m going to set it free, Mummy,” Millie said.

“It’ll probably fly away and die if you let it out of the cage, Millie,” Mum told her.

“No, it won’t because I’ll put the cage near the window and open it, and I’ll put some food inside and a nice bed and it can fly around a bit and then come back at night to sleep.”

“And what about Bee?” Mum said.

Bee had her front paws up on the kitchen worktop and was wagging her tail at the little yellow bird.

Millie bent down and had a little chat with the puppy. “Bee? This is Nigel. He’s our new friend and you’re not allowed to eat him, okay?”

I wasn’t sure Bee was convinced. I didn’t think Nigel was a very good name for a canary either, but it was up to Millie, I suppose. And Nigel might have been a girl for all we knew.

“Well, it’s your responsibility, so make sure you take it seriously,” Mum told my sister.

“I will,” Millie replied. She took a half opened bag of bird seed from the cupboard under the sink and sprinkled some onto a little dish, then filled another dish up with some water. She asked me to take them upstairs while she carried the birdcage up to our room and put it on the sill next to the open window. She set the dishes of food and drink down, then slowly opened the cage.

The canary chirped a few times but didn’t move from its perch.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to leave yet,” my sister told the bird softly. “Just take your time and then have a little fly around when you’re ready, all right?”

“It might never want to leave,” I told her.

“It will. It can see the sky from here. Birds love flying through the sky more than anything in the world.”

“If you say so,” I said.

***

It was just past ten o’clock when Freya poked her head round my bedroom door. The evening was warm and clingy and my window was open wide with the curtains pulled back to let what little breeze there was into my room. I’d retired early and spent the last hour trawling through bits of lesbian porn, slowly working up into a highly aroused state without even touching myself.

I wasn’t sure if she’d come. I thought she might lose her nerve or fall asleep or maybe just assume my invitation was a joke. And part of me thought it would be best if she didn’t turn up, that this wasn’t the kind of thing a mother should be doing with her ten-year-old daughter. But another part of me reassured myself that there was no harm in it, because we were just watching each other, not actually touching.

The truth, though, is that I really wanted this. Ever since that afternoon when I’d spied on the girls in the poppy field, I found myself longing to be closer to them, just as they had grown closer as sisters. I craved the intimacy, even if that meant taking our relationship a bit further than that of parent and child. Was I playing with fire? Probably. But somehow, that didn’t seem to matter like it should.

So there she was, my eldest daughter, standing in the doorway in her pyjamas, cheeks flushed with colour and a look on her face that seemed to be asking, Is this okay, Mum? Is it?

And yes. It was okay.

“Well, hello,” I said to her, smiling.

“Hi,” Freya replied and stuck both arms behind her head, pretending to stretch.

“Are you coming in, then?” I asked her.

She stepped into my room and pushed the door to, not quite shutting it.

“Close it right up. We don’t want anyone else watching, do we?” I said, playfully. I’d certainly got my money’s worth the last time I’d peeked through a gap in the door. The thought of that made me feel even hornier.

“Okay,” Freya said and closed my bedroom door as quietly as she could, then tiptoed over to my bed and climbed aboard. She sat on her heels and let out a nervous little titter.

“Is Millie asleep?” I asked her.

“Yeah, but Bee nearly tried to follow me. I told her to stay, though.”

“Good. Are you nervous about what you’re going to see tonight?”

“I’m a bit nervous, but I’m excited, too. Plus, I already saw you and Miss Laine doing it last night, so I kind of know what to expect.”

“Did you like watching us?”

“Yeah, I went back to my room and touched myself for ages.”

“And now you’re going to get a front row seat! Aren’t you a lucky girl?” I said, poking her with my foot.

Freya laughed nervously. “Are you doing it with your pyjamas on, or are you going to take them off?”

“Hmmm. What do you think would be best?”

Freya shrugged. “It’s hot tonight, so you could take them off.”

“I suppose I could.”

“If you wanted to,” Freya added.

I did want to. I very much wanted to. But I wanted to tease her, too. Teasing was fun.

“I’m not sure if I should. Shall I undo some buttons on my top first and see how we go from there?” I suggested.

“Yeah, okay, if you want,” Freya said, trying to sound as if she wasn’t all that bothered either way. Her eyes said something different, though.

“I don’t have a bra on underneath. Is that okay?” I asked her.

“Uh… yeah, that’s okay. You can… I don’t… yeah, it’s okay. Shall I close my eyes?” Freya replied, flustered.

I chuckled. “You’re here to watch, aren’t you? What would be the point in closing your eyes?”

“Yeah, sorry. Undo your buttons then.”

“That’s better. We have to be brave and tell each other what we want, okay?” I told her.

“All right.”

I undid the first button on my pyjama top, slowly and deliberately, gauging her reaction. “One button…” I said playfully.

Freya stared wide eyed, looking up at me once and smiling bashfully.

The next button. Slowly, slowly. See what her face does. “Two buttons…”

She nibbled her bottom lip and fidgeted slightly.

Another button. Halfway there now. “Three buttons…”

Still biting her lip. Hands in her lap.

“More buttons?” I asked her.

“Yeah, do the others,” Freya told me.

The next button. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Tease them open. “Four buttons…”

A casual scratch between her legs. Was it just a scratch, though?

A fifth button. Just one more remaining. “Five buttons…”

She looked me in the eye. That naughty, defiant expression she gets sometimes.

I gazed back at her and popped the last button through its hole.

“Six buttons!” Freya said before I could, then giggled.

I smiled at her. “Shall I… show you my breasts now?” I asked her, trying to tantalise. My fingers were poised upon the lapels, ready to reveal myself.

“Yes, please,” Freya said quickly.

I slowly teased my pyjama top open, the satin material brushing against my hard nipples.

Freya sat there mesmerised as my breasts came into view. “Wow,” she said simply.

“Haven’t seen these for a while, have you?” I said, pushing my tits together.

“The rings around your nipples are quite big,” Freya informed me.

“They’re called areolae,” I told her.

“Areolae,” she repeated, testing out the new word.

I trapped my nipples between my fingers and massaged my breasts. “Your turn to show,” I said.

“Me?” Freya said, pointing to herself.

“No, the other little girl sitting on my bed. Yes, you, silly,” I said with a smile.

Freya fumbled with her buttons, her eyes fixed on my tits as I squeezed and kneaded them. The last button came away in her hand. “Oops,” she said.

“We’ll sew it back on tomorrow,” I told her. “Now let me see you, baby girl.”

Shyly, she slipped her pyjama top off and let it fall onto the bed. Then, looking a little apologetic, she picked it back up and folded it neatly.

I had to chuckle. I’d always taught the girls to fold their clothes up nicely. “You don’t need to do that tonight,” I told her.

“Okay.”

I’d seen my daughter in various states of undress before, of course. But never in this context. This was something different. Her chest was mostly flat, but there were the beginnings of something happening there – two little bumps that could have easily been mistaken for baby fat. The first whispers of womanhood. Freya put both arms behind her head to show herself off, and her little nipples stood to attention. She smiled at me. It seemed that some of her inhibitions were beginning to evaporate.

I pushed one of my tits up towards my mouth and licked my nipple. “Can you do that?” I asked Freya.

She stuck her tongue out as far as she could and tried to lick her nipple without success. “No, but I can’t wait until I can!” she said and giggled.

I laughed with her. “You can touch them, though. Give it a try,” I suggested.

She rubbed and pinched at her baby nipples, testing what felt good and what didn’t.

I licked a finger and smeared one of my own bullet-hard nipples with saliva. “Try that.”

She popped a finger into her mouth and deposited it’s wetness upon both her nipples, then went back to rubbing them. “That does feel nice,” she told me.

Hooking a thumb into the waistband of my pyjama bottoms, I raised an eyebrow at Freya. “What now?” I asked, sliding my thumb from side to side underneath the elastic.

“Um… could you take those off, please?” she asked me.

“I might, if you take yours off too,” I said, surprising myself. I hadn’t planned on asking my daughter to strip off, but the memory of that night, when I had stood over her and masturbated as she lay asleep with her knickers round her knees, pushed itself to the forefront of my mind, urgent and insistent. I needed to see her naked again.

Off they came, those little pyjama bottoms, down her legs and over her feet, leaving Freya clad in nothing but white cotton panties. I noticed a little wet patch on the front of them. Someone was getting excited.

I pushed my own pyjamas down, dropping them on the floor, then swung one knee to the side and rested a hand upon the crotch of my panties. They were wet to the touch, my juices having seeped into the fabric as I’d edged myself, waiting for my little girl to arrive.

“Do you recognize these panties?” I asked Freya.

She smiled and nodded. They were the same panties I’d found under her pillow not so long ago. The ones she had fished out of the washing basket. Light blue with a yellow trim. Simple cotton knickers. I found myself wishing that I had sexier panties, nice lacy ones like Sadie wore. Perhaps I’d treat myself sometime very soon.

“They’re very wet and juicy. I expect you’d like to take these to bed with you tonight, wouldn’t you?” I said, running the tips of my fingers across the sodden material.

“I… I wouldn’t mind,” Freya said, eyeing her potential prize.

I slid a hand inside my knickers. “No wonder my panties are such a mess. I’m really wet down here.”

“I’m wet, too,” Freya told me and stuck her hand down her own undies.

“Why don’t you show me?”

Her eyes widened. “Show you my kitty?”

“Call it a pussy. That’s what big girls say.”

“Show you my… pussy?” Should I?” Freya asked me. At the prospect of showing Mummy her private parts, my daughter’s shyness had returned.

“You’ve shown everyone else. I think it’s only fair that your mum gets to have a little peek.”

“I didn’t show everyone,” she said. “Just Millie and some girls at school, and… yeah, just them, I think.”

“Aren’t you going to show me, then?” I said, pouting.

She gave me a huge smile. “Yeah, I’ll show you,” she said. “Ready?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” I said, sliding two fingers through my wet folds inside my knickers.

“Do a drum roll,” Freya said as she gripped the elastic of her crotch, ready to pull it to one side and reveal her treasure.

I tapped out a drum roll on the bed with my fingers and finished it with a ‘tsss’ to emulate a cymbal.

Freya peeled back her knickers in one quick movement. “Ta-da!” she cried, grinning.

“Shhh!” I cautioned, but with a chuckle. “You’ll wake Millie.”

Freya put a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Ta-da!” she whispered.

I stared between my little girl’s legs. Her pussy was smooth and hairless and I could see a film of moisture upon those beautiful puffy lips.

“What a pretty pussy,” I told her.

She spread her legs and looked down, inspecting herself. “Thanks. Do you think I’ll get any hair soon?”

“You will. But it looks nice without hair, if you ask me.”

“Is Miss Laine’s ki— um, pussy hairy?”

“Didn’t you see?”

“Not really, her leg was in the way,” Freya said, making a face.

“Your teacher likes to shave hers, but she does have a little tuft of hair just… here,” I said and pointed just above my pussy.

Freya smiled wistfully. “I’d love to see it.”

“Is Mummy’s pussy not good enough for you?”

“Well, I don’t know until you show me, do I?” Freya said, taking a cheeky tone.

I tucked my fingers into the waistband of my knickers. “Should I take these off, then?”

“Yeah. Definitely.”

“Are you sure you want to see your mum’s pussy? I don’t want to traumatise my poor baby…” I cooed, teasing her.

“Oh, Mu-um! Show me! I showed you mine!” Freya protested.

“Hmm, okay. I suppose I could give you a little look,” I said, and slowly slid those damp panties down my legs. “Close your eyes.”

“Why? You told me not to close them earlier.”

“Just close them. You can open them again in a minute.”

Freya shut her eyes and laid there propped up on her elbows, feet together, knees spread apart, her white panties pulled to one side. She looked so delectable.

I spread my legs wide, the cool breeze from the window caressing my exposed pussy lips. “Now you can open them.”

Her eyes snapped open, then went wide.

“Ta-da!” I trilled. Spreading myself open with my fingers, I treated Freya to a full-on gynaecological view, my hot, pink interior moist and inflamed.

“Wow,” Freya gushed.

“Does it look nice?” I asked her as I pushed my fingers through my wetness.

“Yeah, it’s all meaty and sexy,” she told me.

“Meaty and sexy? I’ll take that, I suppose,” I said, laughing. “Stand up and take your panties off for me, baby. Nice and slow.”

Standing up on the bed, Freya tried her best at sliding her knickers down her legs in a very seductive manner, swaying her hips from side to side in a little dance.

I encouraged her as I played with myself. “Ooh, yeah! What a hot girl!” I was so unbelievably horny, I thought I might come there and then.

Freya pushed her panties over her ankles and kicked them off. They landed on the pillow next to me. I picked them up and brought them to my face. I’d sniffed my own panties a few times, but had never even considered using my ten-year-old daughter’s used knickers as a sex aid. Tonight I was feeling especially dirty, though. I inhaled her aroma, finding it fruity and ever so slightly musky.

“Do they smell okay?” Freya asked me, looking a bit shocked to see her mother doing such a naughty thing with her knickers.

“They smell delicious. Now lay back down and spread your legs nice and wide for me, then Mummy will finger herself for you.”

She lay down on the end of my bed and opened her legs as wide as she could, scraping her knuckles up and down her smooth pussy as she stared at my cunt. “I feel so grown up, doing this with you,” she told me.

“You mustn’t tell anyone though. Not even Millie. This is a secret for big girls,” I said, then slipped two fingers inside myself.

“I won’t tell,” Freya assured me and pushed a middle finger into her vagina, imitating me.

I withdrew my fingers from my cunt and smeared their wetness over my nipples. “I love the smell of my pussy. Can you smell it?”

“Yeah, I really like it,” Freya said to me. “I can’t wait to take your knickers to bed with me later.”

“What a naughty girl. Shall I make them extra messy for you?”

Freya nodded at me and grinned.

I picked my panties up and rubbed my cunt with them, my eyes glued to Freya’s busy hand as she masturbated. “Oh, yeah. Finger that sexy little pussy for me, baby. You’re making Mummy so wet.”

Freya watched me intently as I made a mess of my knickers, her finger pistoning in and out of her pussy so rapidly that I thought she might hurt herself. Her technique was crude, but judging from the look of lusty bliss on her face, it was clearly doing the job.

Spreading myself open, I stuffed my knickers inside my cunt until just an inch or two of the material was left sticking out.

“Oh my God, that’s so rude!” Freya gushed, clearly enjoying my lewdness.

“These panties are going to be so nasty and dirty for you. Is that what you want?” I said as I strummed my clit.

“Yeah, I can’t wait. I’m going to smell them while I hump my pillow and think about licking Miss Laine’s kitty,” my daughter said as she fingered herself.

Putting a hand up to my mouth in surprise, I couldn’t help but laugh at my ten-year-old blurting out her innermost thoughts. That was quite the admission she’d just made. Was this merely a girl crush? Or the beginnings of true lesbian desire?

“What?” Freya asked me, still diddling herself.

“You want to lick your teacher’s pussy?”

My daughter looked a little abashed. “Did I say that out loud?”

“I’m afraid so, poppet. Is that what you want to do to her, then?” I asked her, my fingers returning to my clit.

“I – I dunno. Yeah. A bit. Am I weird?”

“Of course you’re not weird. I’ll bet just about every kid in Sadie’s classroom would like to lick her pussy,” I reassured her, trying to sound serious – but couldn’t stop myself from tittering.

Freya grinned at me. “Oi! Stop laughing! I’m trying to touch my kitty!”

I beckoned her towards me. “Come here and stand over me while you play with yourself. I want to see your pussy up close while I make myself come.”

“Is ‘come’ another way to say ‘orgasm’?” my daughter asked me as she got up and stood over me, her sweet, hairless pussy just a few tantalising inches from my face.

“Yeah, it is,” I said as she slipped her finger back into her cunt. “Oh, sweetie, that looks so sexy.”

“We should do this every night,” Freya suggested as she fucked herself, thrusting her pelvis out towards me lewdly.

“I… I don’t know about that,” I moaned, my climax building; churning inside me, urgent to erupt.

“Well, I think we should. Maybe I could lay on top of you and we could rub our pussies together. I know how to do that.”

“Naughty girl. Such a… oh, Freya! Mummy’s coming!” I groaned, trying to come as quietly as I could so as not to wake Millie. I thrust my hips out, pressed my palm tightly against my cunt and rode the waves of my orgasm, one after another. “Oh, shit… so good…”

Freya sat back down on her heels and craned her neck forward to get a good look at my spent cunt. “Wow, it looked like you really enjoyed that one!”

I opened my eyes and smiled at her. “Do you want to come too, baby?”

She shook her head. “I’ll go back to my room and have one. Then I can take my time… and think about all the rude things we did tonight.”

“Okay, then,” I said, basking in the pleasant afterglow of my orgasm, only half listening to what my little girl was saying. “You should go back to bed now. It’s getting late.”

Freya pointed between my legs and gave me an abashed look. “Um… I just need to take those panties with me, remember?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot,” I said and pulled the soaked panties out of my cunt, inch by inch, until they lay sodden and creamy in my hand. I handed them to her and she took a little bashful sniff. “I hope you enjoy them,” I told her.

She snatched up her pyjamas, eager to be away with her dirty prize. Picking up her own panties, she gently placed them on my pillow.

“Well, that’s a lovely present,” I chuckled. “Thank you very much.”

“You’re welcome,” Freya said and did a cute little curtsey. She blew me a kiss. “Goodnight, Mum.”

“Goodnight, sweetie, and have fun. Try not to wake your sister,” I replied and blew her one back.

She tiptoed out of my room, quietly closing the door behind her.

On to Chapter Six!

Note: Since Joe has recently introduced a couple of new characters to the story, we felt it was time to provide you with a guide to the women and girls who populate “Sweet Poppy.” That can be found here. To get caught up with the plot, please check out the Chapter Links.

by Joe Dornish

Kiki put on a delicious spread of roast chicken with salad and fancy loaves of bread, lots of cheeses I hadn’t tried before and this special ham that was from Italy. Everyone else was fully dressed, but I was still nude, very aroused and needing to come in a big way.

My mind began to wander, and I was picturing the things I wanted to do to Mia after lunch when something in the table chatter brought me out of my daydream. Lilly had just asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that she could go swimming when we were done eating.

What caught my attention this time was Mum’s reply. “Yes, sweetie, you can go swimming when we’ve all finished eating. I’ve got your swimming costume in the bag in our room.”

Swimming costume? I’d assumed we’d be swimming nude. What was Mum talking about?

Kiki apparently had the same thought as me. “Swimming costume? Whatever for, darling? We’re all girls here – surely there’s no need to be shy now.”

“Well, It’s true that most of us here around the table have seen each other naked,” Mum began, “but I think that your other guests might be more comfortable if we wore our bathing suits.”

Puzzled, Kiki said, “Heather, how many glasses of wine have you had? What ‘other guests’?”

Nicole and Mum glanced at each other, then they were both trying not to laugh. “Um, I’m afraid that Heather and I have done something a bit, er, shifty,” Nicole said, unable to hold back a giggle.

“I’m intrigued,” said Kiki, arching an eyebrow.

Little Evie spoke up. “Does that word mean ‘interested’?”

“Yes, pumpkin,” said Kiki.

“Then I’m int-er-eeged too!” Evie declared, grinning hugely.

Mum carried on. “We took the liberty of inviting some friends over.”

“Who?” I asked.

“Good question,” said Lottie.

“Emma and Beth Cornish.”

“Thank you, God!” exclaimed Kiki, looking up at the ceiling. I looked up too, but couldn’t see what she was staring at.

When we all spoke about our crushes in the jacuzzi, we promised to help each other hook up if we could. It worked out pretty well, I’d say. Now I was with Mia, Henri and Lottie were looking more like a couple all the time, and Mum had free access to explore her desires for Evie who, at the age of seven, had my little sister for a girlfriend. If Beth Cornish came over, there was a chance for Kiki to make love to her – then we’d each have hooked up with our crushes!

“I did invite them over for lunch,” Mum said, “but they were busy this morning. They’ll be here soon.”

“How did you two manage this?” Kiki’s cheeks were flushed with what I figured was anticipation.

“That’s all my fault, I’m afraid,” said Nicole. “After Heather and I first made love, she told me all about the crushes you people have. I must say, it was thrilling to discover that my daughters are so popular!”

That sent a ripple of laughter around the table. Mia and I shared a quick kiss, and Nicole continued her story. “Anyway, I know Emma Cornish quite well. We worked together on a school outing, and I’ve met her socially a few times. She’s a lesbian, and I was just gearing up to make a pass at her when this one came into my life.” She reached across the table to take my mother’s hand.

What a wonderful mood we were all in that day… you could practically feel the love in the air. I sure hope the Cornishes pick up on that when they get here, I remember thinking.

Kiki spoke up. “Do you think that Emma is, well, close to her daughter, the way we are with ours?”

That gave me a bit of thrill, knowing that Kiki was asking if Emma and Beth have sex.

“I believe so, but I’m not one hundred percent sure. I dropped quite a few hints, and unless I’m very much mistaken, so did she. Still, I think that for the moment, we should take the slow and easy approach. Hence the swimming costumes.”

“No, no, quite right,” Kiki said, nodding. “We don’t want to tip our hand right away.” Suddenly she had a look of panic in her eyes. “They’ll be here soon, you say? Oh, goodness, I should tidy up. No, no point now. I should freshen myself up, though. Is what I’m wearing okay? Maybe I ought to change…”

“Mum, breathe. You look lovely, it’ll be fine,” said Henri, speaking in a soothing tone.

I’d never seen Kiki like this before. Not that I’d known her that long, but it seemed out of character. She must really like Beth a lot, I thought, then decided to help her if I could.

“Don’t worry, Kiki,” I said. “Beth will love you just as much as we do.”

She gave me a dazzling smile. “Poppy Webb, you are so sweet.”

She stood up, so I got up too and we hugged. “Henri is right, y’know… you do look lovely,” I told her.

“Thank you darling. Still, no harm touching up the war paint. I’ll be back in a bit.” With a wink, she got up and exited the room.

“Mum, is my costume in our bag?” I asked.

“Yes, sweetie.”

I stood. “I’m going to go to the loo anyway, so I’ll put it on now.”

“Ooh ooh ooh, I need to go too!” said Lilly and darted off ahead of me.

I remembered that Kiki had a bathroom of her own, so that’s where I went. The door of her room was open, so I just walked in. I couldn’t see her, so she must have been in the bathroom.

“Hi…” I called out, “are you here, Kiki?”

“In the bathroom, darling – come in.” When I entered, she was doing her make-up in the mirror.

“Erm, sorry. I need a wee, and Lilly’s in the other bathroom. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Then as I sat down, she said, “Poppy darling… would you mind terribly if I played with you while you pee?”

That was so out of the blue it caught me off guard. “Er… I guess it’s okay. Best hurry though, I’m starting.”

I had no idea what Kiki meant to do, but we didn’t have time to talk about it before I started peeing. She knelt next to me, put her hand between my legs just as the flow started and rubbed my pussy, her hand and fingers getting drenched.

It was a weird experience. Not as nice as getting licked, but it always feels good to have your pussy played with, even if you are peeing. Kiki really enjoyed it, though – I saw that she was rubbing herself with the other hand.

When I was finished she removed her hand, then licked it, still masturbating all the while. I wiped myself and said, “Kiki, would you like me to lick your pussy?”

She smiled. “I’d love nothing more… but right now we don’t have time.”

“Are you sure?” I said, teasing her by running my hands all over my body, trying to make it look as sexy as I could.

“Wicked child!” she laughed.

“Hee hee, yeah – I guess I do Iike to tease. So, um, you’re into peeing, then? Does it turn you on?”

“It does,” she replied, soaping and washing her hands as she spoke. “I found out by accident. Once, when Henri was about six or seven, I was going down on her when, all of a sudden, she lost control and peed right in my face. Bless her, she was mortified! But instead of being cross or even moving out of the way, I found myself pushing my face in the stream. I even swallowed a little. I’ve no idea why, but after that I had a real affinity for water sports.”

“Water sports?”

“It’s what it’s called when people play pee games with each other. If a lover does it on you, that’s known as a golden shower.”

I was a lot less surprised by this than I might’ve been a few days earlier. “Do people do that kind of thing a lot?”

“It’s an acquired taste. A lot of people don’t like it, but some do. It’s like anything, Poppy – some things will turn you on and others will turn you off.”

“Like Beth Cornish turns you on, huh?”

“Exactly like Beth Cornish. I was practically wetting my knickers when your Mum told me she was coming over. And what with you running around naked and letting me touch you… blimey, a stiff breeze would make me come right now.”

She stared into the mirror for a second, then said, “God, Poppy, look at me. A middle-aged mother getting all flustered over a twelve-year-old girl I’ve not even met properly.”

I wrapped my arms around her from behind. “If Beth loves you half as much as I do, you won’t be able to keep her out of your bed. Don’t worry so much, Kiki. You’re one of the hottest, sexiest ladies I know!”

Turning around, she hugged me tightly. “Well, you’re one of the sweetest, most beautiful girls I’ve ever met, and cute as a button, too. Not to mention clever. That was some very grown-up advice.”

I was blushing like mad at all the compliments, so flustered that I sort of lost my words for a bit. “Well, some of that is what Mum told me before I went to the school disco last year.”

“Well, it was sage advice indeed.” She turned back to the mirror. “Now, I’m going to get myself ready to make a serious impression on our guests.”

I left Kiki to finish her make-up and went to the spare room where Mum put our bag. It took me ages to find my swimming cossie, and I was a bit annoyed at Mum for packing my old red one-piece and not the sexy new bikini. Why’d she pack this one? I wondered. It was buried at the back of the bloody drawer!

But when I managed to squeeze into it, I understood why she’d brought the red swimsuit. It was at least one if not two sizes too small for me. The shiny red fabric was pulled so tight around my crotch you could clearly see the definition of my pussy lips, and it kept creeping up into the crack of my bum. That last bit was sort of annoying but gave everyone a great view, so I was okay with it.

I walked out into the hallway with the plush carpets and into the main room. I noticed that Kiki and Henri had put out blankets, throws, cushions and pillows all around, making the space look even more welcoming than it already was. I could hear enough to know that Beth and her mum had arrived. I felt a bit self-conscious in the tight bathing suit, but I liked the way it displayed my body even more. Besides, we’d soon all be in our swimming stuff anyhow.

“Ah, here she is. Poppy, this is Beth and Emma,” Mum said as I walked up to the group standing by the door. The cold air from outside hit me, and I shivered as I said hello.

I’d seen Beth around at school but only recently said hello to her for the first time. We’d never spoken much, and I’d only glimpsed her mother from a distance. Seeing them now, close up, I could see why Kiki was so obsessed with Beth, although I thought her mother was just as beautiful, if not more so. Emma looked about my mother’s age, perhaps early thirties. Beth, I knew, was twelve. They both had milky white skin with freckles here and there and the same dark orange hair. The other nice feature they shared was the brightest, most vivid green eyes you’ve ever seen. Mother and daughter both wore jeans with jumpers. Beth was only a few inches taller than me, and her Mum was petite as well.

“Are you going swimming?” Beth asked me.

Not wanting to spoil the surprise at the end of the tour I said, “Maybe later.”

“Kiki, why don’t you show Emma and Beth around while we get changed?” Nicole suggested.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Kiki said. We’ll meet the rest of you in there.”

“In… in where?” asked Emma. “I’m intrigued.”

“You’ll see.” Kiki replied, leading her and Beth from the room..

I was still feeling the cold air that had been let in, so I went straight to the nice warm pool room and jumped into the water. One by one, the others came in. Like me, Lilly and Evie were in one piece costumes, and theirs seemed suspiciously small as well. Mia had a lovely pink bikini with white trim. Henri and Lottie both wore bikinis, too. Unlike Mia, the older girls had tiny string bikinis on, and they were thongs, too! The tops were tiny, Lottie’s done in a plain yellow and Henri’s with a purple and blue pattern. I was stunned at their boldness – they looked fantastic, with almost nothing left to the imagination. Mum and Nicole came in wearing bikinis too, Mum’s was dark red with a white pattern, and Nicole’s was plain black, both with strings at the sides of the briefs and neck.

Mia, Lilly and Evie joined me in the pool while the adults and teens sat at the table waiting for Kiki to complete the tour for the newcomers. Me and the girls were still frolicking in the water when they came in. Emma and Beth were as stunned as we all were the first time we saw Kiki’s magnificent pool room.

I couldn’t hear any of the conversation, so I got out of the water and came closer, picking my bathing suit out of my bum for the hundredth time as I went. Mia followed, leaving Lilly and Evie playing in the pool.

“What, all the way open?” said Beth.

“Yes, all the way open, but I don’t want to let in the cold air while we’re swimming. When we’re done, I’ll open it and show you,” said Kiki.

“The problem is, we don’t have our swimming stuff with us,” said Emma.

“Oh, Henri and I have lots of swimwear. We’ll find something for you both, I’m sure.”

I was distracted by the uncomfortable suit I was wearing and not really listening properly. As I plucked it out of my bum yet again, Mum said to me, “Are you, okay sweetie?”

“Why did you have to pack this swimming costume? It’s really uncomfortable,” I frowned with annoyance.

Mum looked at Emma when she answered. “As it’s only us girls here, we normally swim nude, so I wasn’t sure which one to bring. Looks like I made the wrong choice.”

“I hope you didn’t cover up on our account,” Emma said, then she turned to her daughter, looking pleased as punch. “What do you think about that, Beth? We’ve found some fellow naturists… just like us.”

There was a definite erotic tone to the way Emma said those last three words, looking at Kiki while she spoke.

“Oh, how wonderful – you’re naturists, then?” Kiki was clearly pleased with this news.

“Yes, indeed. We’re proud members of the British Naturist society. My parents were similarly inclined, so I’ve been going nude all my life. Beth too,” she added, wrapping an arm around her daughter’s waist.

“Is that like for, for saving trees and stuff?” asked Evie.

That made everyone smile and go ‘Aw’, which made Evie pout a bit, thinking we were laughing at her. She was standing next to my mum, who picked Evie up, perched the girl on her hip and said, “I think you mean naturalist, sweetie. It sounds very similar, but a naturist is someone who likes to be naked.”

“I never knew that,” I said truthfully, also wanting to make Evie feel better for asking.

“I’m a naturist, then,” Evie announced, back to her chipper self. “I love being naked!”

“Me too,” I said, making a face as I picked at my bum, tugging the too-tight suit down again, hoping everyone noticed.

“Shall I get you both swimsuits?” Kiki asked.

Emma looked at her daughter. “What do you say, Beth? I’m happy going nude if you are.”

Beth was beaming. “Yeah, I’d much rather go without, if that’s okay.”

“Wonderful!” Kiki exclaimed. “There’s a little changing area with towels, just opposite the showers. No point in me going all the way back to my room… I’ll undress with you two,” Kiki followed them to the small changing area, grinning widely as she clip-clopped across the tiled floor in her heels.

“Girls, you can take your swimming costumes off if you wish,” Mum said, loudly enough for Emma and Beth to hear as they left the pool area.

My swimsuit was off in a flash. “I hope I never see this again,” I said, tossing it into a vacant corner. The others soon did the same, and we all jumped in the pool completely starkers. I stayed near the edge closest to the seating area, so I could get a good look at Emma and Beth when they came back naked.

A couple of minutes later the three of them emerged, and I feasted my eyes on the newcomers as they came towards me. My gaze was instantly drawn to their pubes, which were a lovely orange hue. Beth only had a tiny trimmed tuft just above her slit, while her mother had a larger patch, about the size and shape of an egg.

Beth was slender with long coltish legs and breasts only a little more developed than mine. She was holding Kiki’s hand, laughing at something her mother had said. She looked beautiful and quite content with being naked. Emma’s breasts were magnificent; large and round with remarkably small pink nipples. Other than a few hardly noticeable stretch marks, her petite figure showed few signs of childbirth. Her tummy was flat and her hips were slim and shapely, like her legs. Accompanied by the always stunning Kiki, the three of them made for an awesome sight that had my heart pounding.

I had a burning urge to get on my knees and bury my face in one of those pretty ginger pussies. Given that Kiki would probably never forgive me if I fucked Beth before she did, I decided Emma would be a better choice. Not that it mattered – I was pretty sure I’d get to fuck them both by the end of the night. Something in their wandering eyes convinced me that Emma and her daughter were very much into the idea of sharing a swimming pool with a bunch of nude women and girls.

I was eager for my first encounter with Nicole, Lottie and Evie, but right then, the Cornishes had captured my interest. But before I could come on to Emma, or anyone else for that matter, I needed to clear it with Mum. I didn’t want to embarrass myself if it was too early in the day for sex, and my instincts told me that it probably was.

Mum is always telling me I’m beautiful. But she’s my mother, after all, and would still think I was beautiful if I got hit by a bus. But recently I’d begun to truly believe that she really meant it. Kiki and Henri had also said sweet things – not just telling me I’m beautiful, but sexy, too. And they backed up their words with touches and kisses, just like my mum. So I was not only growing in confidence, but learning the arts of seduction as well.

I knew enough to understand I was still a bit clumsy – but being so young, I could get away with it. So as Kiki, Emma and Beth walked towards me, I made no attempt to hide the fact I was staring at them, very much liking what I saw.

“You okay there, Poppy?” asked Emma, wearing a sly smile as she stepped into the shallow end with me. “See anything you like?” She drifted closer while Kiki waded into the middle of the pool with Beth.

I thought it best to be honest. “Sorry for staring. It’s just that I – I’ve never seen orange pubic hair before. I think it’s lovely.”

Emma didn’t bat an eyelid, “Aw, that’s sweet, thank you! Kiki said you were a delightful little girl… and so far, I have to agree with her. You have such beautiful blue eyes.” She stroked my cheek then softly said, “I’d love to get to know you better.”

Okay, that was a definite come on, no doubt about it. My heart was racing, and I could feel myself blush. That’s okay, blushing is cute, right? Say something, Poppy!

“I’d like that,” I said. Suddenly feeling cheeky, I stole a quick kiss from Emma.

Giggling like the naughty little girl I was, I dove beneath the water and swam off. When I came up for air and glanced back, Emma blew me a kiss. I pretended to catch it, then sent one back.

Even though I was burning with lust, I also felt uncertain about my next move. Right… gather yourself. It’s just sex, you’ve done it loads of times now. I need to talk to an adult… good, there’s Mum. She was in the pool with Henri, bobbing about in the water and chatting to her.

I went over to her and got up close, then whispered, “Can I make a move on Emma? I’m pretty sure she likes me.”

Kiki was grinning. “Oh, she likes you just fine. Couldn’t take her eyes off you earlier!”

“I must admit, I’m keen to get this party started. What do you think, Henri?” Mum said.

“It should be okay… but I normally wait for Mum to make the first move, so maybe check with her first.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” I said and began to swim off – but Mum took hold of my arm.

“You and Mia have been very close the last few days, have you spoken to her about having sex with others?”

“Of course! I mean, we all have sex with each other, right? She knows that. I mean, she does it with her mum and sisters.”

Henri frowned. “I think what your mum is trying to say is that Mia’s feelings might get hurt if you just threw yourself at Emma. She’s in love with you, after all. If it were me, I’d speak to her and see how she feels about it. I’m sure she’d appreciate that.”

“Or maybe ask her to join you both. She might like Emma, too.”

“Gosh, I can’t believe I didn’t think about that. I feel bad, now.”

Mum shook her head. “Don’t, sweetie. See, you did the right thing, came and asked my advice first. And remember, Emma may be an adult, but you still need to ask permission. And go slow, don’t jump her, let her come to you.” She smiled. “Trust me, she will. You’re irresistable.”

That cheered me right up. I was glad I’d gone to Mum instead of coming on to Emma right away, which is probably just what I would’ve done.

First things first. I needed to speak to Mia. It took me a couple of minutes, but I got her alone.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” I told her.

“Me too! But we can’t, not yet. I have to wait for Mum to say it’s okay before we start doing stuff.”

“My mum said to ask Kiki, which is what I’m just about to do.”

“Um, Poppy… can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Had she noticed me flirting with Emma? Did she have a problem with that?

“Erm, would you mind if I had sex with your mother?”

“Of course not! I know Mum can’t wait to be with you. She thinks you’re hot.”

“Stop teasing me.”

Sod the rules… I kissed her, I had to. It was a quick one, though, “I would never tease you about stuff like that, Mia. Cross my heart.”

“Wow, she really likes me?”

“She absolutely does. What do you think of Emma?”

“She seems nice. Very sexy.”

“God, I want to fuck her!” I couldn’t help but blurt it out. Thankfully, no one else heard.

Mia laughed. “That’s how I feel about your Mum.”

“So, er, you don’t mind if I have sex with Emma, right?”

“Why would I mind?” Mia looked confused.

“I just thought that, um… actually, it was Mum who said that since you and I are, y’know, really close, maybe I ought to see how you feel about it before….”

“Before you have sex with someone else? Poppy, I hope to have sex with everyone here before we go home, but you’re the one I’m in love with. Let’s just make sure we fall asleep together tonight, how about that?”

I could feel my eyes welling up with joyful tears, but managed to hold them back. “Aw, I love you, Mia. And yeah, I’m spending the night with you for sure!”

She threw her arms around me and we kissed. We broke off before anyone saw us, though.

“Um, by the way, you do know you’re my girlfriend, right?” I asked, giving her a shy smile. “That’s what I’ve been telling people.”

Mia giggled. “Jeez, Poppy! I’ve been calling you my girlfriend for over a week. Get with the program!”

We both burst out laughing, then shared one more quick kiss.

“Let me set things up with Mum for you,” I told her. “I’ll go have a chat with her now.”

“Wait, Poppy – um, maybe you shouldn’t say anything,” Mia began, but I wasn’t about to listen to that. This was no time for her to get cold feet. So I pretended not to hear her, just swam back over to Mum and Henri.

“How did it go?” Mum asked me.

I took her arm. “You were right, Mum. I’m so glad I spoke to her. She’s fine with me being with Emma. Thing is, there’s someone here that Mia’s got her eye on. Someone she’s not been with yet.”

Mum’s eyes widened a bit, like they always did when she was about to hear something juicy. “Oooh, who’s that, then?”

I gave her a big smile. “It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Oh, don’t act so surprised, Heather,” Henri said, “you know you’re sexy as fuck.” Mum gave a surprised yelp. I figured that Herni must have touched her under the water or something.

I continued. “Anyway, Mia’s dying of embarrassment over there, because I’ve come straight over to tell you what she’s thinking.”

“I’ll have to do something about that, won’t I? Come on, Henri – let’s go see Mia and leave Poppy to chase down her prey.”

“Good luck with Emma,” Henri told me. “Hope I get a crack at her myself – she’s dead sexy!”

As I swam over to where Kiki was chatting with Emma and Beth, I noticed Mum had already drawn Mia into a conversation, and they were both giggling. I felt good for Mia. Mum is a wonderful lover, and I knew they would have lots of sexy fun together. I intended to have sex with Mia’s mum pretty soon, and now I knew that Mia would help me start things off when I did.

Evie and Lilly came over and splashed me, so I played with them for a while then waded over to Kiki. She was leaning against the side of the pool, standing next to Beth. Emma was just opposite them. I didn’t notice until I got up close, but Kiki and Beth had their arms around each others’ waist under the water. This looks promising, I thought.

Kiki smiled at me. “You okay, Poppy?”

I had no idea what to do, so after an embarrassingly long pause I said, “Yeah, just thought I’d say hi,” then giggled like an idiot.

“Kiki was just telling us about your crushes, how each of you have different ones. I think that’s so sweet,” said Emma. I noticed Beth blushing slightly when her mum said that.

I wasn’t sure how much Kiki had told Emma, so I decided it was time to be honest again. “Did they tell you who my crush is?”

“They did, but I’d have known anyway. You’d have to be blind not to see how much you and Mia love each other.”

“Yeah, she’s really nice. She’s my girlfriend now.”

“Well, it’s about time you two made it official! Congratulations!” exclaimed Kiki. She hugged me.

Emma and Beth congratulated me too, and I felt embarrassed all over again. I hadn’t expected this to be such a big deal. My face was hot as I said, “Thanks.”

Then I decided to be bold and take a chance on making a complete muppet of myself, figuring that Kiki would bail me out before I made a really bad impression. “The thing is,” I began, “Mia and I, we both have other crushes, too.”

I left it like that, so if Kiki gave me a certain look I could still explain it away. Instead, she gave me a wink, so I figured it was okay for me to be coming on to Emma. My heart beat even faster when she leaned in close to me and murmured, “Can I be nosy and ask who they are? I think I can guess one of them.”

I was hoping Emma had figured out that I was crushing on her, so I wouldn’t have to say it out loud. Instead, I asked her, “Which one is that?”

“I think Mia likes your mummy,” Emma said, a huge smile on her lips as she looked past me. I glanced over my shoulder to find Mum and Mia cuddling each other in a very affectionate way. To most people, it would have seemed quite innocent, but everyone here knew better.

“Yeah, you got that one,” I admitted. Now, my other crush is, erm… well, it’s on you.” I was so nervous that it was hard to get the words out, all the while struggling to look relaxed..

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” said Beth. “Isn’t it, Mum?”

Drifting even closer, Emma hugged me to her for a long, wonderful while, then kissed my cheek. I could feel her bare legs against mine, and a delicious shiver ran through me when our breasts briefly touched. She whispered in my ear, “You’re my crush, too,” then drew back just far enough to smile at me, cupping my face in her hands. I was gazing into those sparkling green eyes, the desire I saw in them warming me like a sunbeam.

I felt Emma’s hand trail down to my shoulder, and from there to my right breast, what little there was of it. As she teased the nipple, she turned to catch Mum’s eye, then gestured towards me with her head as if to ask, Is this okay?

Mum nodded firmly, then drove the point home by claiming Mia’s mouth in a heated French kiss. Mia went stiff for a fraction of a second, then hugged Mum tightly as their tongues flashed back and forth. The sight of my girlfriend and my mother carrying on like passionate lovers made me quiver inside.

That was when Kiki turned to Beth with a smile and said, “Darling, would you mind if I kissed you?”

“I’d love that,” Beth said, her eyes wide. Kiki moved in, covering the girl’s mouth with hers.

I felt so pleased for Kiki I can’t tell you – honestly, my heart fluttered. I knew how nervous she was, but the woman had guts as well as style, and her fear didn’t show one bit. Despite everything, all the careful build-up, the checking and double-checking, in the end, she was a grown woman who was about to kiss a twelve-year-old girl in front of her mother… and then, in all likelihood, make love to her.

It’s such a high, that moment when friendship suddenly turns sexual. Now multiply that by four women, two teens, and five young girls, all of them gay. It was crazy exciting, my wildest experience ever, and I was practically panting to get started.

Emma looked at me, just about to speak. I figured she was going to ask to kiss me, but I was ready to fuck!

I gave her my sweetest smile. “Emma, would you like to take a soak in the jacuzzi with me?”

She paused with her mouth still open, then smiled back. “I’d love nothing more.”

 

On to Chapter Fourteen!

Note from JetBoy: It’s been a long, wild ride, but we are thrilled to pieces to finally offer you the conclusion of Sunnybunny’s marvelous lesbian novel. If you have yet to sample this sexy saga, please check out Chapter One and go from there. If you have been following the story, it would be a good idea to peruse the last couple of chapters, or check out a thumbnail summary of the whole thing in Chapter Links.

Thanks for sharing with us, SunnyBunny. Consider yourself a true Friend of the Site.

By Sunnybunny

Staring hopelessly at Richard’s gun, Heather began to trudge toward the door of the motel room. God damn it, she thought, lost in despair. If we’d just hit the road an hour earlier. One fucking hour. 

“Hold on,” Richard said, halting her in mid-step, still firmly grasping Angie’s arm. He frowned at the corpse of Travis, then looked up at Heather, a playful smile on his lips. “It wouldn’t be very polite of us to leave a mess behind when we go, now would it?” He glanced over at his hired goon, the one named Curtis. “Go and get the plastic wrap out of the trunk, then…” he gestured at Travis with the barrel of his gun, “…take that trash out.”

Looking down at the body, his upper lip curled in distaste, Curtis slowly nodded. “Sure, boss.” He exited the room.

Turning back to Heather, still smiling, Richard said, “And that is why the police have never been able to lay a finger on me. Rule Numero Uno: don’t leave evidence behind.” He nudged Travis with the tip of his loafer. “When I saw this specimen at the door, I thought you’d lowered your standards in a big way when it came to men… but there’s no way on earth you’d give it up for this.” He poked the body again, harder this time. “So I guess he must’ve been here for protection, eh? Too bad, too sad.”

Curtis came back into the room, a large piece of plastic sheeting draped over his shoulder.

Ignoring the girls, the burly man spread the sheet on the floor next to Travis, then snapped his fingers at his silent partner, who shambled over to assist. Together they slid the corpse onto the plastic, then began to roll it up – clearly, a job these men had tackled before.

What in God’s name are they going to do with him? she wondered.

As if reading her mind, Richard responded. “My car has an extra-big trunk,” he said, nodding approvingly as he watched his men work. “Plenty of cargo space, that’s right.” He looked up again, his eyes meeting Heather’s. “But there’s more than enough space left for you and your new friend, have no fear.” His smile had turned cold and ugly.

By then the silent thug was holding a wrapped-up Travis in a standing position. Curtis had produced a roll of clear packing tape from somewhere and was winding it around the body over and over, the thick tape making loud ripping sounds with every tug.

Once he was satisfied with the result, Curtis quickly moved over to the outside door and opened it, peering into the night. He looked left and right, then returned to the mummy-like package, taking one end. His partner took the other, and they carried what was left of Travis out of the motel room, Richard saluting as it passed by.

“Hasta la bye-bye,” he waved with his pinky finger, then turned back to the girls. “Next on the agenda – we pay a little visit to this diner.” Gently taking a fistful of Angie’s hair, he slowly twisted it until the young girl whimpered in protest. “I really hope that you aren’t fibbing to me.” He suddenly released her, nearly causing Angie to lose her balance. “I’ve had it up to here with women who don’t behave themselves.” His gaze drifted back to Heather who, once again, fought the impulse to look away.

A few minutes later, Travis’ body concealed in Richard’s car trunk, Angie and Heather left the motel room, leading their captors to the diner. They were marched over like prisoners sent to face a firing squad. Single file, Angie leading the way, Heather close behind, Richard and his henchmen bringing up the rear.

Heather prayed the whole way that someone would see them and realize what was happening. Perhaps Walter would wander out of his office at the end of an unusually long evening at work and glimpse them as he locked up for the night. Even better, the sheriff himself might cruise by in his old patrol car, sidle up beside the caravan and inquire what business they had in the diner at such an ungodly hour. At this point, she would have taken one of the catcalling ranch hands with their pinching fingers that left her ass feeling like a pincushion at the end of her shift. Anything or anyone who might save them from what was shaping up to be a hideous fate for her and Angie both. How would Richard and his goons react when they found nothing in the diner but a few dusty countertops and an old jukebox?

Heather slid into one of the empty seats, tugging Angie along after her, only to have the child abruptly yanked out of her grasp. Richard’s smile was sinister as he forced the girl into the seat beside him, boxing her in against the dividing wall. His gun was trained against her temple, sometimes pressing hard enough to leave a little imprint against Angie’s cheek.

Heather wadded up her hands into tight fists along the tabletop, livid with fury at how powerless she felt, then tucked them into the pockets of her coat, where they could tremble without Richard noticing.

“Now, sugar,” Richard drawled, locking eyes with Heather while he addressed the little girl. “Where exactly did you hide that cash? Hmm?”

It took Angie a moment to find her voice. Her eyes were as wide as saucers, looking positively enormous in the gloom of the diner. “I – I don’t know. We g-gave it to our friend to hide. Someone we c-could trust. She, um, owns this place. She promised to, to keep it safe for us, B-but then she died!” The child stared at Richard, her lower lip trembling.

The crease that took shape in Richard’s brow made it clear that he wasn’t buying Angie’s story.

“It’s true,” Heather insisted. “We left it with the owner while we planned our escape. But she suddenly died, just a few nights ago. It caught everyone by surprise. We had to lay low until we could come back and look for it–”

Richard cut her off, slamming the gun against the table like a judge with his gavel, calling for order. “All right, all right! I get the bloody picture!” He half turned in his seat, the worn leather squeaking with his shifting weight. “Boys, tear this place apart until you find it.”

“Boss, we can’t see shit,” one of the goons protested. “How are we supposed to find anything without turning the lights on?”

“Jesus H. Christ,” Richard muttered, then glared in the direction of his men. “There’s a toolbox in the trunk of the car, remember? In that toolbox, there happens to be a flashlight. Now one of you, hustle back to the car and get it!” He watched, a sour twist to his mouth as the smaller of the two men hastened out the door, then turned back to face Heather, touching the barrel of the gun to his forehead as he offered his two captives a sardonic smile. It’s hard to find good help these days, his expression seemed to say.

Sufficiently cowed and a touch humiliated, the remaining henchman stood with his hands in his pockets, looking as if he’d rather have been the one to go to the car.

Sighing, Richard turned back to Heather in the seat and, noticing her venomous gaze, shifted back into his shit-eating grin. While she watched, he slithered a hand down the neck of Angie’s top, hugging her close to his side like an old chum. With his arm thrown casually around her shoulders, he shamelessly groped the girl’s flat chest.

Gasping in astonishment and outrage, Angie tried to twist away, sliding partway down in the seat in her attempt to avoid the man’s touch. “Nuh-uh!” he fired back, cinching his arm tighter around the girl’s neck, drawing her back up to sit alongside him without removing his hand from her shirt. “Let’s have none of that now. After all, I’m just being friendly, see? Just a bunch of regular folks hanging out, getting to know one another.” He snickered.

Angie whimpered in reply, shivering in his grasp, her face scrunched up so tightly that Heather feared she might break down in hysteria. She longed to reach across that expanse and take the child’s hand, to give her fingers a squeeze. Let her know that everything was okay. It’s not, though. It’s anything but okay.

This is all my fault, Heather told herself. None of this would’ve happened if I’d never stopped here. Never chose a twelve-year-old girl to be my lover, never agreed to the utter insanity of running away with her. She would have given anything in that moment to take it all back, the good as well as the bad. She would happily surrender those joyous feelings Angie had stirred within her soul, the wonderful laughter and the forbidden, amazing sex – all of it – to banish that look of helpless terror from the girl’s face.

Then and there, Heather vowed that she would get them out of this mess or die trying. She had no idea how or when, but she was at least going to give it her best shot, even if it meant staring down that gun when Richard pulled the trigger…

The door tinkled as the departed thug came back into the cafe, triumphantly brandishing the flashlight. He switched it on, and Richard quickly hissed, “Keep that away from the windows, damn it!”

Pointing the bright yellow beam at the floor, the hood and his cohort made their way into the kitchen to begin their search for the hidden stash of money. They were hardly discreet, and soon a great clangor of noise was heard, one that only grew louder as their efforts intensified.

“Hey,” Richard suddenly said, glancing from Angie to Heather, “you know what I think would do us some good? A story. Yeah! A nice icebreaker to, to alleviate all this tension.” He gave Angie a rough shake that sent her throttling back and forth in his grip. “Would you like that, sweetie pie?” He did not wait for a reply. “That’s the ticket – a nice little fairy tale to calm everyone’s nerves. Okay, now.” He settled back, then began. “Once upon a time, there was a poor peasant girl. And she married a charming crown prince, heir to a vast and wealthy empire.”

Shit. Heather’s bowels turned to water, sensing where he was going with this little stunt of his and hating him all the more for it.

“The two met at a ball in the land of Universe City, and boy, was she blown away by his charms. They danced all night long, until all the stars had vanished from the sky…” His voice took a wispy, almost melancholy air. The bastard even reclined his head back and sighed theatrically, gesturing with his gun hand as he basked in the memory.

“Now, they did not fuck that night.” He made sure to lean hard into Angie’s ear for the word ‘fuck’, the tip of his tongue tickling at her lobe. “You see, our princess was a chaste bitch, who made her poor prince wait and wait and wait before she opened her legs to him.”

A crash erupted from the front of the store, making Angie and Heather jump in their seats. One of the goons had taken the butt of his flashlight to the ancient cash register and forced it open. Richard went on as if he hadn’t heard. “But when she did… whoa, boy!” His voice grew louder. “It was as if the floodgates opened up. After that, they were fucking all the time.” He lewdly thrust his hips up into the table, making the whole booth shape with his ferocity. “Like a couple of damn rabbits. Like it was going out of style. You get the picture?

“Anyway, eventually the prince and the peasant girl agreed to marry. His family was against it, of course. Princes are meant to marry princesses. Not poor gutter trash drowning in student loans…” He paused, corrected himself. “Er, I mean poor gutter trash who was at risk of turning into a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight. Yet he was persistent. He liked the way she fucked, you see. He liked the way she begged to be fucked harder.” He went on to imitate her sighs, resuming his gyrations until he cracked up with laughter that nobody shared.

Heather looked away, unable to bear the weight of Angie’s gaze as he described their intimate past together. She felt hideous, humiliated, made worse after spending such loving and comforting times with this girl she loved so. How had she ever been able to surrender herself to this man? To any man?

When at last she summoned up the courage to seek out Angie’s face, offering apologies with her eyes, she found a haunted look wrought over the child’s face. No doubt, the display was causing her to relive the trauma she’d known at the hands of her father.

Richard spoke on. “They moved into a palace together. Soon after, the prince gets involved in bigger and better business opportunities. More wealth than either of them could imagine. She objects, of course. These things are on the, er, grayer side of the law, shall we say? Skirting around the edges of legality, sure… but with all the cash it brings, she doesn’t protest too loudly.” The son of a bitch winked at her then. Her hands ached with the need to snatch the gun from him, to demand he get his filthy hands off her beloved.

“Anyhow, our prince is on top of the world, with all the money, drugs and pussy a man could possibly ask for!” His mouth tightened. “Then one day, the poor, innocent young prince comes home to find that he has been wronged. A great sum of cash is missing from his castle, as well as the pussy he liked to fuck most.” Heather openly scoffed at that, but Richard took no notice. “He was heartbroken, our unfortunate prince. Heartbroken and worried of what had befallen his peasant girl-made-princess, who seemed to have completely forgotten the many, many good things he’d given her. He’d even let it slide that she’d refused to open her legs for him of late. That was fine. He was a patient prince and there were… others, more willing to receive him. Before you think too ill of the prince, know that he never betrayed the peasant girl in his heart. Sure, he enjoyed a little pussy on the side, since hers seemed to be locked up tighter than Fort Fucking Knox, but she was still his wife. That meant something to him, damn it. She… belonged to him. He never forgot that fact. Even if she did.” His mouth tightened.

Damn him, Heather thought. God damn his sick, twisted soul to hell.

Richard looked down at Angie. “We all make mistakes, yeah? Sometimes we get so deep into our own bullshit, we make boneheaded decisions. I’m including myself in that equation, too. Don’t think I’m not. I should have known her unhappiness would lead to some sort of… rash behavior. But I let it go on without taking her in hand, getting her mind right. That’s on me. But…”

He trailed off, letting his gaze drift to Heather. For a moment, his smile took a turn. It was shy, almost innocent, and playful. The smile she’d fallen in love with so many years ago. Usually, it showed itself after a bad ‘dad joke’. She used to find it so charming. Its appearance now was intended to be disarming, to perhaps remind her of what she had left behind, that could still be. Once upon a time, it might have made her swoon, a touch weak in the knees, and earn him a kiss or two.

Now, it made her want to vomit.

“Hey, boss.”

They collectively glanced over at the one he had called Curtis earlier. He stood behind the counter, frustrated and out of breath. “We ain’t findin’ shit here.”

“What do you mean?” Richard shot the pair of girls a warning look before addressing Curtis again. “You couldn’t have checked everywhere.”

Curtis shrugged his broad shoulders. “Only so many places it could be, boss. The kitchen an’ back offices are clean. Just the couple hundred in the register, that’s all we got.” He produced a wad of bills, hastily wrapped up with a rubber band, as evidence to his claim.

Richard sucked on his teeth, thinking quietly to himself before coming to some internal conclusion. “Look one more time. Just to make sure, but…” He paused for dramatic effect, shifting his weight to lean heavily into Angie. She shrank away in response, squeezing herself into the corner of the booth, but Richard fixed the girl with an icy glare. “This is a clear failure to communicate,” he hissed. “A classic case, in fact.” He seized Angie’s chin, forcing her face upward until their eyes met. The gun’s barrel pressed against the twelve-year-old’s throat, making her whimper. “You know what happens to liars… don’t you, cunt?”

Richard was staring at Angie’s face, as if it held the secret he wanted. In a way, it did, as the girl wasn’t looking at him – but past him. Over his shoulder. Following her gaze, he and Heather saw what Angie was seeing.

The old jukebox stood in the corner, shining with benign light. All its track selection buttons were aglow, shining so brightly in the darkness that they could make out individual numbers and names for each artist. She spied Buddy Holly, Fats Domino and The Platters before she was drawn back to Richard and the girl in his clutches. Had it been left on this whole time? She certainly hadn’t noticed when they’d entered the diner, but she was distracted at the time. Now, it seemed impossible to miss, a lighthouse in the middle of a hurricane.

Richard looked from Angie to the old juke and back again, until something occurred to him that had his face glowing almost as brightly. “You sneaky little fox!” he exclaimed, then leaned forward and planted a loud, wet kiss against the girl’s cheek. He practically vaulted out of the booth, leaving a disgusted Angie scrubbing her face with both hands.

Richard stalked over to the jukebox with long, bird-like strides. Cocking an elbow against its radiant face, he hammered it with the butt of his gun, rattling the Plexiglas that housed the much-worn 45’s. Without waiting for a response, he pursed his lips together and whistled. The piercing sound immediately drew Richard’s men in, the trio huddling around the jukebox as if it was a safe in need of cracking.

“You think it’s in here, boss?” Curtis asked, sounding uncertain.

“Hiding in plain sight,” Richard answered with a barking laugh. He backed away. “C’mon, get to work busting this open. You can keep any loose dimes you come across.”

Wondering what would happen to them once Richard saw through Angie’s ruse, Heather looked across the table for Angie, startled to realize that the girl was no longer in her seat.

“Angie…?”

A shot rang out. The front of the jukebox exploded with a shower of sparks, wood paneling, and metal pieces scattering into the air like confetti.

As one, the trio of men slowly turned around. The quiet that followed was unsettling, punctuated only by the ringing in their collective ears from the loud report the gun had made in such a confined space.

There, in the middle of the aisle between the rows of booths, stood Angie. Her feet were wide apart, the gun held aloft in a firm two-handed grip. Her shot had just missed, passing between the cluster of heads and into the front of the old Rock-Ola. She didn’t wait for a response, squeezing off another round that had the three men scrambling to flatten themselves on the tile floor, hands clasped protectively over their skulls.

“Fuck!” the second thug gasped, and Heather realized that she’d not heard him speak until then.

The gun looked positively huge in Angie’s small grip. The force of the shot had sent her staggering backward, the weapon nearly flying out of her hands. She held on, though, her eyes blazing with fury as she faced down the bad guys.

Will anyone call the police if they hear shots coming from the diner? Heather strained her ears for the sound of sirens, but the second blast had deafened her, at least temporarily. Cautiously rising from her seat, she moved to join Angie, suddenly recognizing the gun. It had belonged to the girl’s father, the same one he’d dropped in his death throes. Somewhere in the confusion,  Angie had had the presence of mind to snatch it up and conceal it somewhere in her clothes.

The jukebox groaned, then the sound of a needle skidding across a record erupted from the speakers. The lights flickered once, twice and then died, stealing all sound with it.

“Angie,” Heather breathed. The girl continued to stare ahead, trembling fiercely. Tears streamed down her cheeks, clouding her eyes until it looked like they were melting out of their sockets. Gingerly wrapping a hand around Angie’s outstretched fists, Heather slowly, ever so slowly took the gun from her grasp. “You did good, sweetie. You saved us.”

Richard chuckled humorlessly in the darkness.

Heather trained the gun on their prone forms, coaxing Angie behind her. “We are leaving, Richard. This is done.”

“Like hell it is!”

She fired another shot. The round ricocheted off the linoleum. In the flash of light from the nuzzle, she caught a glimpse of the men cowering tightly together, hands still atop their heads. She spied Richard’s handgun; the one Curtis had handed over earlier, abandoned atop the ruined jukebox. The long silencer was unmistakable.

“On your feet. Slowly. SLOWLY!” She enunciated the word for clarity.

Hands raised, the trio gathered themselves up from the floor. Heather routed them into the kitchen area, marching single file through the swinging door. Richard grumbled the whole time, no doubt infuriated by the unfamiliar circumstance of being at someone else’s mercy. At Heather’s direction, the men seated themselves in a row along the wall, their backs to the ancient oven that dominated a whole corner of Maven’s kitchen.

“Ain’t this cozy,” Richard mocked. He crossed his legs out wide and relaxed back on his palms. He stared daggers beyond the gun leveled at his head, looking into Heather’s eyes. “Don’t you dare think this is the end, you fucking bitch. I’m going to get my money back one way or the–”

Heather cut him off. “Angie,” she said, “Go get the bag.”

At her arm, the girl hesitated. “Are you sure?”

Heather nodded wordlessly, this simple gesture enough to let Angie know there would be no arguing. Her mind was made up, resolved that if this ended the insanity, it would be well worth it.

A lifetime seemed to pass between the sounds of the front door chiming open and closed. The gun weighed heavily in her sweaty hands. Heather was on pins and needles, wondering how many guns they might have on them, strapped to their ankles or tucked into the band of their pants. Her frayed emotions threatened to carry her right over the edge, until every shift of shadow seemed to be one of the men going for an unseen weapon.

“Heather…?” Angie was at her side again. She hadn’t heard the child reenter.

Startled to within an inch of her life, Heather erupted with a strangled cry, squeezing the trigger. The bullet went wide, burying itself into the guts of the old oven with such force that the wide door on the front spilled open.

The unnamed thug bellowed, “Fuck, lady! Watch where you’re pointing that thing!”

She was quick to recover, training the gun back on her target. “One wrong move, and it’ll be your fucking head.” She tried to play it off as if the shot had been intentional. Whether it worked or not, she had no idea, but that hardly mattered. “Angie, put the bag down.”

The girl did as instructed.

“This what you’re after?” Heather booted the satchel across the space between them. She’d intended for it to settle squarely between Richard’s splayed legs. He certainly would have appreciated the symbolism of the gesture. The heavy bag only made it halfway, however, before upending and popping open. Fat wads of cash spilled onto the tile, some of the rubber bands snapping loose. “There. Take it. This is done. Over. Do you hear me, Richard? Over!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t count on that.” He didn’t miss a beat. “You can’t believe this was about money. Only about money, anyway. You’re smarter than that, princess. No one leaves me, not unless I want them gone. No one!” Richard’s hands were opening and closing, his body taut with anger. “Go ahead and run again; you’ll never escape me. I’m going to keep after you, chase you to the ends of the earth. I’ll use every connection I have, spare no expense… Oh, it might take a lifetime. But sooner or later…” He let the rest go unsaid. Shaping his hand into a gun, he extended the thumb and forefinger, firing off an invisible shot aimed at her forehead.

Heather had desperately hoped that the money would be enough to buy their lives. I should have known better. There isn’t enough money in the world to make things right with Richard, not when his pride takes a hit. He’d been bested, even humiliated in front of his own men, and that set a price that could only be repaid in blood. Hers, certainly – now Angie’s as well.

She understood now that they would never know a moment’s rest, not while Richard Valentine walked the earth. She and Angie could run, they could hide, but there was no peace to be had. She would always be looking over her shoulder, wondering if this would be the day that someone put a bullet in her back.

Heather was snapped out of her brooding by the sound of the flint wheel of a lighter struggling to ignite. She quickly turned to Angie, who held a cigarette between her lips, trying and failing to light it.

Catching Heather’s glance, the girl sighed, “I know, I know. I’ll quit tomorrow. Right now, I need this.”

But that wasn’t what had Heather so concerned. Thinking quickly, she cupped a hand over Angie’s, taking the lighter away. “Go wait by the car.” The child started to protest, but Heather shot her a warning look. “Please. I’ll be out there soon. Just go. Now.”

“Fine!” With an angry huff, Angie threw down her unlit cigarette and stalked off.

Heather waited, counting slowly in her head until enough time had passed for her young lover to have reached the end of the block. But would she stay there? What concerned her now was Angie’s natural stubbornness. Please, PLEASE make her do what I say, just this once!

“We’re going now,” she announced, laying a hand on the swinging door.

“Oh, we’ll give you a head start. Right, fellas? A nice slow count of One Hundred Elephants before we come chasing after.” He puckered his lips together, making loud kissy noises at her.

That’s good, she thought. Keep it up, asshole. The more he taunted her and made a fool out of himself, the less chance that he would notice the smell of gas creeping into the room from the busted pipe in the oven.

The door swung closed and, good to his word, Richard began to loudly count out the time. “One elephant! Two elephants! Three elephants! Four, count ‘em FOUR elephants! Five! That is FIVE elephants!” He could hardly contain himself, comfortable in the knowledge that his victory had merely been postponed.

Whispering an apology to Mama Maven for what she was about to do, Heather flicked the lighter, then held the butane flame to one of the tacky old curtains fixed into the windows. They caught immediately. By the time Heather rushed out of the diner, the flames were licking at the ceiling fixtures, bringing the row of windows facing the road to life with a light that seemed to pulse like a great artery.

The heart of Oasis, she thought, running as hard and fast as she was able.

The blast that followed nearly bowled her over, lighting up the night for an instant. Seconds later, debris from the cafe began to rain down; luckily, Heather had managed to get past the worst of it. Batting a scorched menu away from her face, she stumbled toward her car, mouthing a prayer of thanks when she spied a frantic Angie standing next to it. They flew into each other’s arms.

***

The explosion of Mama Maven’s diner did more than destroy the building. The flames quickly spread to other businesses in the neighborhood, many of them already vacant. Soon, the whole block was ablaze. Some buildings escaped the holocaust, but had their roofs damaged by the falling debris. The force of the blast also shattered dozens of windows, enough that a couple of glaziers were brought over from a neighboring town to assist in replacing them. One local World War II veteran was sent into cardiac arrest and died before first responders could reach him.

By the time the last of the blaze was extinguished, and full stock of the aftermath could be taken, most of downtown Oasis had vanished. What replaced it was twisted, ugly spires of charred wreckage. Even the library, so famous for weathering such calamities in the past, had burned to its foundation. It seemed that the cancer that had slowly eaten away at this town had finally come to surface and claimed what remained. What wasn’t taken by the economy, disrepair and the harsh conditions of the desert had been collected at last.

Amongst the wreckage was a pair of early rescues, young women wrapped up in a Mylar blanket together, coated in a layer of soot so thick they were nearly lost in the gloom. The aftermath was so chaotic that the emergency teams failed to notice them sharing a passionate kiss, the two of them overjoyed to be alive and safe.

The investigation was brief, yet as thorough as could be expected with such limited resources. Much of the evidence was either destroyed in the explosion or lost in the ensuing fire that raged for hours afterward. All the authorities could establish with any certainty was that the blaze had originated at the diner, spreading after a gas leak triggered an explosion, and three horribly charred bodies were found amid the wreckage. It was quickly established that these men weren’t locals, and that two of them had been carrying guns.

These three strangers were quickly linked to an unfamiliar luxury sedan, parked just down the road. It had been scorched in the fire, but was still intact. Upon searching the vehicle, the body of local garage owner Travis Lawrence was found in the car trunk. He’d been killed by a single gunshot, then his corpse wrapped in thick plastic. The bullet was traced to one of the guns that had been recovered from the cafe explosion.

Only one of these mysterious men could be identified from the charred remains – an ex-con named Curtis Grotowski, pinpointed by prison dental records from his three-year stretch in Nebraska for armed assault. The sedan’s out-of-state license plates were run through the system, but that proved to be a dead-end when it was discovered that the car had been registered under a false identity.

In the end, no one could produce a satisfying explanation for the disaster. Some suspected that the three men in the diner had intended to rob the place… but how did Travis Lawrence fit into the scenario? Had he been in cahoots with these strangers, then double-crossed? Or had he tried to interfere with their scheme and gotten killed for it? The answer remained tantalizingly out of reach, a bottomless source of speculation and gossip for the locals.

One of the businesses to escape the worst of the fire’s wrath was Walter’s motel. He sustained damage to the side facing the road that he shared with the diner. One wing had been burned to the ground, but the rest was no worse for wear, and he was able to reopen within a couple of days.

Heather and her things were moved to another room, where she awaited each day with apprehension and dread, expecting the sheriff to come calling with a warrant for her arrest. When she finally did hear a knock at the door, she nearly jumped out of her skin. But instead of a lawman bearing handcuffs, her visitor was none other than Mama Maven’s attorney Calvin Wynn.

After she’d ushered him inside and pleasantries were exchanged, Calvin informed her that the insurance adjusters were wrapping up their investigation of the explosion, and as the new owner of the cafe, she stood to inherit a generous amount of money from its loss of the cafe.

When Heather learned of the amount, she nearly keeled over. Not quite the half million she’d taken from Richard, but it was enough for her to start over. A clean slate, at long last.

She didn’t get to see very much of Angie much after the fire. The police were busy trying to locate her next of kin, with no success. In the meantime, she was staying with the sheriff and his wife, which meant that she spent her days loitering around the police station with very little to do beyond sulk the days away.

Before long, Angie had taken to spending her time sitting at the sheriff’s mammoth desk, drawing on the back sides of old faxed documents. She only had a handful of broken crayons to use, but made do with them. Heather dropped in from time to time to visit, but the effort of keeping their feelings hidden made this time together less enjoyable than it should have been. Just glancing into Angie’s eyes filled Heather with a desire so acute, it made her stomach hurt.

At least the sheriff was always happy to see someone paying attention to Angie. “That poor girl’s been through a lot,” he told Heather. “Hell of a thing, losin’ her daddy that way.” In fact, Angie couldn’t have been happier to be rid of Travis, who had done more than anyone to make her childhood a misery. She was careful to pretend to mourn his demise – at least, when there were witnesses at hand.

One morning, the sheriff’s wife went to rouse young Angie for breakfast, only to find her bed empty. It had not even been slept in. Shortly thereafter, it was discovered that Heather had vanished as well.

Fearing the worst, a state-wide manhunt was organized, complete with missing person notices and an Amber alert. A cash award was posted for any information leading to the pair’s whereabouts, a reward that would ultimately go unclaimed.

Weeks would turn into months, with no sign of Heather or Angie. The town of Oasis would carry on, of course. The locals would eventually spin their own sordid tales of what had become of the two girls, concocting wild stories that blamed everything from drug cartels to Satanic cults to space aliens.

More than a year later, a true crime TV show known for revisiting cold case files brought on a witness who had not come forward before, a motel owner who claimed to have rented a room to a woman with a young girl who closely resembled Angie Lawrence and Heather Freemantle. “There was somethin’ about them that made me wonder, though,” he said. “She said the girl was her daughter, but I could tell that she wasn’t. So I took a few pictures of them through the window.”

The TV screen shifted to a few grainy images of a woman and a preteen girl taking suitcases from a car.  They were both wearing baseball caps and sunglasses. The photos were taken from too far away for a positive identification to be made, the narrator’s voice explained.

The show continued with the interviewer asking the motel owner about the couple’s demeanor – did they seem to be under duress or agitated? The man could only shrug. “Not so’s I could tell,” he said.

The last picture was taken the next morning; it showed the mysterious woman in her car, pulling out of the lot with the girl at her side, both of them still wearing shades and caps. The photo shows what appears to be the woman reaching over to adjust the gearshift. The investigators had no idea that, if glimpsed from a certain angle, the woman was actually placing her right hand between the girl’s legs.

***

Nearly five months after the explosion in Oasis, a small west coast town saw the arrival of two new residents. Their names were Samantha and Danielle Worthington, a recently divorced mother looking to start over in a new location with her daughter. They could be rather quiet and private, but most of their neighbors took to them fairly quickly. Within a few weeks, the Worthingtons were part of the community.

It hadn’t taken long for Heather to find her contact, the forger who had offered her a new identity for the right price. He was taken aback to learn that he’d need to manifest a second set of documents, these intended for a child. The man asked no questions, but it took several weeks longer than expected before Heather and Angie were able to reemerge with their new names. The process had taken a considerable bite out of their bankroll, but enough remained for Heather to rent a small home in a quiet neighborhood.

Heather, now Samantha, took a job doing secretarial work at a law office. Her daughter Dani, formerly known as Angie, would attend school in the following semester, showing certain proclivities towards art and theater. She was, in the opinion of her teachers, a natural.

The two of them pitched in together to do up the second bedroom for appearance’s sake, decorating the space to reflect the typical interests of young girls. There were boy band posters and fairy lights on the walls, glow-in-the-dark stars and planets along the ceiling and stuffed animals on the bed. Everything was done up in pastels, right down to the sheets on the twin-sized mattress. The bed was seldom used, though, since Angie nearly always slept with Heather. As for the room, she mostly used it to study or hang out with her friends.

To the outside world, ‘Samantha’ and ‘Dani’ seemed anything but unusual – a friendly, attractive single mom and her cute, precocious preteen daughter. But once their doors were closed and the shades drawn, the woman and the girl melted into each other’s arms, their mouths meeting in a heated, hungry kiss.

For the first few weeks in their new home, Heather and Angie were insatiable, making love over and over again. Most of their free time was spent naked. Why bother getting dressed, if they were only going to be taken off again?

Eventually a rhythm began to take shape in the household – a careful balance between Heather raising Angie into womanhood, and their life together as lovers. There were growing pains, naturally. Was it Heather the ‘mother’ telling Angie to do her homework after dinner? Was it Angie the ‘daughter’ who roused Heather from sleep, hungry for sex?

Sometimes Heather gave Angie dance lessons after dinner. Sometimes they didn’t finish dinner at all.

Sex was a crucial component of their nightly routine, after which the two lovers would drift into slumber together, naked and entwined beneath the sheets.

We will withdraw now while Angie and Heather are in bed together, watching a movie in their pajamas, a bowl of popcorn balanced on Heather’s tummy. To linger too long would be impolite… and we’ve been their accomplices long enough.

They deserve to be alone.

The End

***

Afterword

Wow! Just…wow, right? It’s finished, caput, donesville! After so many years in the making, allow me to simply pause for a bit and just taking in the magnitude of this accomplishment. Sure, this is a niche tale for a niche audience but I’ve always been so very passionate about Desert Rose and seeing these wonderful characters to their conclusion. I know this has been a long time coming and to see that so many people here are still reading it and commenting and showing so much love and support for this little tale of mine just fills my heart beyond what words can express. I’m so glad I was able to entertain you all, so from the very bottom and sincerest point of my being, I want to thank you. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU for being a constant show of support and inspiration. Without the fine folks at JS, I can say this tale never would have been completed at all.

So background!

The basis for YDR came for my desire to write out a more traditional mystery story, about a young woman fleeing her old life and an abusive relationship and starting over. Her sordid past would clash with the seedier underbelly of a small town until both come to a head during a thrilling climax where she is forced to confront her demons. Sort of a Nicholas Sparks meets Gillian Flynn tale with no erotic themes whatsoever.

With this nugget of an idea gestating in my imagination, over the next few months more details emerged: what the town would look like, some of the locals, details about the past she was escaping, etc. I toyed with the idea of a romantic subplot, playing with more themes of deception therein and being a gay woman, I naturally gravitated towards making her love interest another woman. Perhaps the smalltown diner owner.

As a structure began taking shape and I started toying with the idea of writing this out and seeing how the heroine does in the first few chapters, I stumbled across a particular site that catered to shall we say, unique kinks?

So, I reached out and struck up a great dialogue with Cheryl who embraced not only my story right away but ME as a new author. My biggest regret in writing for JS was I never got to fully tell her how invaluable I found help during those early days of churning out the story. She was insightful and funny, a true guiding light in her editing that only made the story better and better. Cheryl Taggart, if you are out there, you were the best <3

What started out as a thriller gradually became a tale of forbidden romance, and I was far more interested in exploring those themes and complex emotions that would go with it than simply writing out a ‘wanker’. That said, seeing all the feedback wondering about the lack of sex, I did feel somewhat pressured to include more than I had planned. In fact, there was a subplot where, after Angie learns of Heather’s determination to flee Oasis before Richard can find her, she demands they go on a date together. It takes some convincing, naturally but they eventually steal off together and head to where else? VEGAS, BABY! I would then reserve a handful of chapters of the two of them getting into all sorts of fun shenanigans and there was even a cameo appearance planned by Naughty Mommy’s own mischievous seductress, Bambi. Before you get TOO excited, it was nothing more than a small bit that was more intended to be a wink-wink to the audience wherein Heather and Angie glimpse her playing the ‘Lost Girl Game’ in the lobby of the hotel they are staying in. Just before they can go up and inquire about her well-being, another couple intercepts and our girls leave, thinking whoever she was is in capable hands.

Yet, in the end, I chose to excise these passages and for a variety of reasons. Chiefly, it slowed the pace of the story down to a crawl to which it never fully recovers, and it didn’t really feel like they fit in with the rest of the story. The chapters felt indulgent and wholly unnecessary, no matter how many times I wrote and rewrote them, they just never clicked with the rest of the narrative. The story is the boss here and keeping things moving and focused on their shared plight was the honest thing to do. Anything else would have been a betrayal to their journey and a ‘lost weekend’ would have only muddled things needlessly. This decision proved to be such a headache, I set the entire tale aside for a while and wrote out another story in the meantime. A nice spa where women of a particular variety could go and be pampered and indulge their most carnal of desires before returning to the real world as the movers and shakers they publicly were.

One thing that did not shift or change in my mind was the ending. I always intended to give them a happily ever after. They deserved nothing less. I hope you all feel the same way and are satisfied by the conclusion and are looking forward to my next tale of sapphic debauchery. I can promise you it won’t be nearly as long (fingers crossed!)

Thanks from the bottom of my heart to JetBoy for stepping in to fill the role of editor for me. As much as I gushed about Cheryl’s guidance above, his help was equally invaluable, and I appreciate every bit of advice and revision suggestion he could offer.

Personal shout outs to Purple Les, Naughty Mommy, Amanda Lynn, eloquent delinquent and Ebo for crafting a few favorites that I frequently revisit for inspiration (among other things 😉)

And lastly but certainly not least, thank you to all the fine readers of Juicy Secrets for sticking with this story until the end. I know it’s been a long journey to those marvelous words ‘THE END’ and your patience, support and understanding while I overcame personal obstacles to see this through to the end is more precious to me than you will ever know.

 

 

Introduction from JetBoy: For those who are a little late getting to this story, there’s a bit of a twist to its history, which you’ll notice if you take the time to trawl though the numerous comments below.

In the original story that Keiko wrote, then I edited and proofed, the daughter of the narrator is an infant girl who is included in the sexual activity. After it was posted, some of our readers objected very strongly to this aspect of the plot… and one keen-eyed reader pointed out that it was also in violation of Juicy Secrets policy. After consulting Keiko, she and I agreed that the best course of action was to take the story down and rewrite it so that the daughter, while still extremely young, was at least old enough to consent to participate in the lovemaking. (Consent being the operative word here.)

Then, as some of you may already have anticipated, other readers objected to the site’s censorship of the story. So it goes. The surest path to insanity is trying to please everyone.

Anyhow, here is our reworked version of “The Corruption of Amy.” We hope that you’ll give it a fair shake (and perhaps shake a few other things, while you’re at it.) As for the original version, I’ve already suggested to Keiko that she posts it at Lesbian Lolita, whose rules are a bit more casual than ours.

Thanks for reading… and feel free to add to the dialogue in the comments.

   ***

By BabyKeiko 

I should know better. I’m thirty-one. I have a child, a husband. I was raised to know the difference between right and wrong. I even go to church — granted, only on special occasions, but I still understand sin and redemption, how they work. I’ve got a moral compass.

But I can’t help what happens when the craving takes me. Can’t help my depravity. My sick desire. It’s so strong, so all-consuming that it makes me lose sight of my better self, turns me into a wanton whore, with no thought but to satisfy this hunger that hisses and snarls inside me.

So that’s why I’m here on the couch with my body lewdly exposed, fully naked. My three-year-old daughter Nina is nestled in my lap, nursing from my breasts, only wearing tiny white underpants.

My pussy is inflamed. Wet. Wanting.

I’m seated in front of Amy. Fourteen-year-old Amy. My depravity muse. My partner in crime.

“Take your clothes off,” I tell Amy. And she does.

It thrills me that she still blushes as she undresses for me. These emotions that run through Amy when we play our twisted games are so powerful, so all consuming… is it any wonder that the blood always rushes to her pale cheeks? My underage lover is flushed with need. With shyness. Perhaps even a touch of shame; I wouldn’t be surprised.

Amy gradually exposes her ripening body, one piece of clothing at a time. Her youthful breasts are still growing, defying gravity. Puffy nipples. She’s a newly blossoming teen, beginning to assume a womanly shape. She will have a generous bust, once she achieves full maturity. Her pubes are as red as the short hair on her head. Lovely as she is, Amy is even lovelier out of her clothes.

With each visit to me she’s discovering more of her own needs. Her unspeakable desires. Her willing submission. Which I exploit. I encourage. And I get off on it, on corrupting this young girl. It’s so wrong, yet more intense than any sexual thrill I’ve ever known.

I make Amy do what arouses me to the point where I am beyond all caring. When all that matters is the searing heat of my lust. And hers. Because what makes this so intoxicating is that I know her triggers. I know them because they’re the same as mine. But I direct Amy to express her desire and act on it so that I’ll be able to tell myself I’m not like that.

Except that I am like that. Perhaps even more “like that” than I want to admit.

And for Amy, being manipulated by an adult, a mother, allows her to rationalize what she does away, to tell herself that she can’t help what happens. It wasn’t her. She’s only a young girl, doing what she’s been told. Adults know better. They know what is right and wrong. So if a grownup tells her to do something, who is she to refuse to obey?

We’re both winners in our mutual corruption. We both can rationalize our depravity, explain it away.

“Sit in front of me,” I tell Amy. I open my legs so she has room to scoot in between them.

She obeys, her face glowing with the satisfaction of being told what to do. Knowing and hoping I’ll let her satisfy her secret hunger. It’s all she needs from me. To help her explore, and more importantly, coax her to enter willingly, joyously, into our shared depravity.

“Does this make you happy?” I ask.

“Yes,” she whispers, locking eyes with me. I see her spark… her need… her submission.

Amy directs her eyes to my breasts. Actually, to one particular breast — the one my little girl is suckling, mouth attached to my nipple. Of course, I no longer have milk to give, but little Nina still loves to nurse… and few things in life please me more than making my daughter happy.

Amy’s gaze shifts to the other breast, blue veined and drooping ever so slightly. The one with no little girl attached to it. My exposed nipple is stiff and straining outward as if seeking another loving mouth.

“Does this excite you?” I ask her.

“Yes,” she concedes. She is unable to deny the truth to me. Or to herself.

“Does it make your pussy wet?” I ask.

When I ask Amy these questions, she can only be honest, and so once more she says, “Yes.” The pink in her cheeks turns a shade darker red from having voiced that yes, openly admitting that watching a naked woman nurse a nearly-naked child arouses her desire. And Amy’s excitement is only intensified by her own nudity, the thrill she gets from displaying her young, still developing body to me.

“Show me,” I tell her. “Prove to me that you really are wet.”

Her eyes flicker back up to mine. She slips her right hand between her knees, which she spreads, still seated between my wide open legs. I see her pussy. I see the red curls, so sparse, on her pubic bone and around those surprisingly prominent labia. She spreads her butterfly open for me.

And there it is: glistening pussy cream, the true evidence of her forbidden lust. A big white pearl of it is emerging from the opening of her fourteen-year-old cunt.

The sight of Amy’s sex opened by her own fingers… the puffed-up nipples on those sweet pubescent breasts… her cheeks flushed with the excitement of following my orders, as well as the shame she feels for loving what we do so much, along with the knowledge that we’ll be doing those very things quite soon… all those things I see, taken in combination with my daughter’s insistent tug-tug-tug nursing on my breast, is nearly enough to make me come.

Almost enough — but I manage to suppress it for now. Sweet agony. Standing close to the beckoning fire,  but not yet allowing myself to dance into the flames. I love that feeling.

As I watch Amy sitting there, her wet, shining labia spread open for me, I know she wants to go further. I see her labored breath. I feel her anxiety and the need to leave her comfort zone, to venture into a new, dangerous place.

And I will help this precious girl of fourteen get what she wants. Because if I tell her to, she can’t say no.

“Tell my daughter hello,” I say. “Aren’t you glad to see her?”

“Um, h-hi, Nina,” Amy says. “How are you?” Her words are utterly mundane, but they seem to crackle with the deep-banked desire she feels for my child.

Nina breaks contact with my swollen nipple, turning to give Amy a sunny smile. “H’lo, Amy,” she says, reaching out to the older girl.

With a tiny sob, Amy takes my three-year-old into her arms, hugging Nina to her bare chest. They share a loving embrace.

Amy is so caught up in the moment that I half expect her to cry. “I… I love you, Nina,” she adds.

My child touches the teen’s face with her little hand. “I love you, too,” she coos. “An’ so does Mommy!”

Amy glances up at me, reading the passion that smolders in my eyes. It’s true: this shy but amazingly intense girl of fourteen is my lover, and my feelings for her sometimes threaten to consume me whole.

And yet, what we share can hardly be called romance. Not for us the gift of flowers, or the murmur of sweet nothings. No, our love is that of sinners, and it is firmly rooted in the forbidden need that Amy and I share.

Now the time has come to fully explore that hunger, to reach for the cup and drain it to the dregs.

I smile down at my daughter. “Shall we play our game now, sweetheart?”

She twists around to peer up at me, “Yes, Mommy!”

“Ah, but today, we’re going to make the game a little different,” I tell her. “You see, Amy wants to play with us. She’s taken off all of her clothes, so she can be part of the game. Would you like that?”

Nina all but bounces in my lap, her eyes dancing with glee. “Yay!” She wheels around to face her older friend. “Yes! Play, Amy!”

“Okay,” my teenage lover whispers. She tries to sound relaxed, but I notice that her hands are trembling. She glances at me, then looks away, her cheeks a bright pink.

It’s time, my girl. We’re going to make your dream happen.

Still cradling Nina, I shift her about so that she’s facing Amy, her little legs parted slightly. I notice Amy stealing a peek between them, and feel a renewed surge of lust. “Take her underpants off,” I say, nodding down at my daughter.

Amy hesitantly reaches out, the fingers that just opened her pussy now brushing the front of Nina’s panties. She is overcome with mingled excitement, sexual heat and fear, possibly on the verge of tears. It’s a lot to deal with for a girl of fourteen.

She carefully takes hold of the waistband, giving it an experimental tug. I lift Nina slightly, and Amy pulls the white cotton underwear down the child’s legs and over her feet. Now we are all naked.

Amy sits back, resting on her heels. Her eyes roam over my daughter’s bare body. Nina’s smooth slit is now openly displayed for Amy. The hunger in her eyes… my God, I can almost extend my hand and touch it.

I tickle my daughter’s chin. “Sweetheart? Do you like letting Amy see you this way? With no clothes on?”

“Mmm-hmm!” Nina responds, giving her head an eager nod.

“What about you?” I ask, looking up at a dazed Amy. Do you like looking at my little girl when she’s naked?”

“Yes,” she replies in a barely heard whisper.

“Does she… “ I pause for dramatic effect, “…does she excite you when she’s naked? Get you hot?”

This answer is even softer. “Yes.”

I make her say it. I make fourteen-year-old Amy admit out loud that she is sexually aroused by the sight of my naked three-year-old. I feel my pussy drip and throb, the anticipation of what is to come almost enough to bring me so close, so close to release…

I moan, then take a deep, calming breath. Not yet, damn it. Don’t you come.

“Do you like her little belly button?” I ask, gently caressing Nina’s impossibly soft tummy.

Amy is no longer capable of words. She sits, staring, mesmerized, her cheeks flushed crimson. Redheads do have a tendency of blushing deeply. Amy is flushed all the way from her face to her chest, even between those annoyingly perky breasts.

“Do you like seeing her nipples?” I ask Amy, looking at her face. Her eyes are glued to my hand, gently caressing my daughter’s chest, teasing those tiny buds to stiffness. Nina sighs blissfully, Amy swallows hard.

“Do you?” I ask again.

“Yes… yes, I do.” Amy’s agreement comes suddenly, as if she’s just realized that if I didn’t get an answer then and there, this magical intimacy will immediately cease. And fourteen-year-old Amy, my beautiful young lover, doesn’t want it to stop.

I’ve helped her to understand the truth: not only is she into women and girls… but she’s into little girls, the kind of love that could destroy her life if the secret ever got out. I wonder sometimes if the sheer danger of it all is just another part of the pleasure Amy feels at moments like these.

“What do you like seeing most?” I ask her. I need Amy to admit it, to tell me what she wants.

Amy looks up at me, eyes full of panicked realization, because she knows where I’m leading her.

“You can tell me, Amy,” I say, “It’s not like I don’t know.” Her eyes now follow my caressing hand again. It glides up and down my child’s thin legs.

“Her p-pussy,” whispers Amy, her voice filled with mingled need and shame. Though by this time, the need seems to be winning out.

“That’s right,” I reply, “You like my little girl’s pussy… don’t you, Amy?”

“Yes,” she says, admitting defeat. Somehow, though, it’s also a victory.

“Tell her. Tell Nina that. She likes to hear how pretty she is… everywhere. Even there.”

Amy’s cheeks pinken again, but she does manage to say, “I… I love your pussy, Nina. It’s every b-bit as pretty as the rest of you.”

Nina is pleased, of course. My little one adores being complimented. “Say ‘thank you, Amy’,” I tell her.

“Thank you, Amy,” my child lisps, beaming with delight.

“Open her legs,” I tell my teenage lover.

This is where my corruption and Amy’s wanting leads us. Where I will find the sweet release that I ache for.

Amy slowly reaches out to touch Nina’s legs… then hesitates. A line is being crossed, and she knows it.

We’ve come too far to back down, though. I place my free hand on Amy’s, helping her to open my little girl’s thighs until her smooth, pink vulva is fully exposed.

I don’t mind helping Amy do this. Because I want it every bit as much as she does.

“Isn’t she absolutely perfect?” I ask Amy. I’m holding her hand in place, on that incredibly soft thigh.

“Yes.” Her voice is tense with lust.

“And I know what you want to do to her, Amy… We both know, don’t we?”

A labored, whispered: “Yes…”

“Go on… lick Nina’s pussy. That’s what you need, isn’t it?” I’m not really asking, just stating a fact.

She looks up at me again, her eyes brimming with tears — of shame? Of joy? I can’t say.

Turning away, Amy slowly bends down until her face is nestled between Nina’s thighs. And then this girl of fourteen starts to lick, making love to my daughter’s treasure.

My little one is slumping against me, a dreamy cast to her eyes, one I know well from the many times I have pleased her with my mouth. I offer her a breast, and she eagerly latches on, sucking with a vigor that feels positively divine. Reaching down to my aching vulva, I plunge two fingers inside and roll them around, massaging the vaginal walls, then seek out and find the clit with my thumb, working it like a switch.

I feel the storm rising swiftly inside me, the pressure mounting, then boiling over as a massive orgasm swallows me whole, liberating my body from hours’ worth of built up sexual tension…

God, I needed that. Take some of the pressure off. Still, my lust remains undiminished. In fact, now I’m more  ready than ever to complete my corruption of Amy.

I run my fingers through her long, luxurious hair while she goes down on my child, alternating between tender kisses, swipes of the tongue and sucking at her slit. I’ve felt Amy’s mouth between my own legs more than a few times, and know how good she is at giving pleasure.

I encourage her – not that she needs it. “That’s it, child… lick my little girl’s cunt, make her happy — make her your lover.”

Sliding my index finger between Amy’s lips, her tongue and Nina’s moist slit, I begin to masturbate my daughter while my teenage partner in crime continues to lick. I feel my vagina swell and contract, fueled by the purest undistilled lust.

“Touch yourself,” I tell Amy. I see and feel her hand as it slips between those slender legs, finding her pussy. She’s dripping with nectar, enough for it to trickle down her inner thighs. A moan escapes her lips, somewhat muffled by my child’s vulva.

My perverted dream is coming true. I’ve made an underage girl play with herself, kneeling between my legs while she goes down on my little girl. Nina is beside herself with delight, her little eyes dancing. It’s almost enough to send me over the edge again. Not yet, though… not yet.

I lift Amy’s face from my daughter’s pretty pink slit, a finger under her chin. Her face is flushed from what must be a crazy-quilt mixture of emotions. I understand completely; what we’re doing is a lot for a girl of fourteen to process.

“Keep playing with yourself, Amy,” I tell her… and even though I can’t see for myself, I know that she is obeying me.

“Yes,” she gasps, her voice sounding as tortured from the need for release as her body surely is.

“Would you like to feed Nina now?” I ask Amy. Our eyes are locked. She gives me a quick nod.

“You may, then… but keep playing with yourself — that’ll make it even better.”

I peek down at my little one, still sucking at Mommy’s lust-engorged nipple. “Sweetie,” I tell her, “Amy would like to nurse you now. She wants to feel that pretty mouth of yours on her nipple. Okay?”

Tilting her head, Nina looks up at me, a bit dazed from the lovely feelings we’ve been giving her. “‘Kay,” she murmurs, then smiles at her new lover.

Amy rises to her knees, and I steer her upper body toward mine. My eyes are drawn to those blossoming breasts — so utterly perfect, even when she bends toward the naked little girl in my lap. I had a body like hers in my teenage days, before I became pregnant with Nina.

Her breasts are now inches from my daughter’s face. “Let me help you,” I say, and guide her soft breast towards Nina’s mouth.

My three-year-old loves to nurse. For her, a teat is no longer a source of food, but it’s still a lovely way to bond with Mommy. So it’s no surprise to see her take to Amy’s nipple, just as if it belonged to me.

“Ohhh… oh God,” I hear Amy moan.

“I know, I know…” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear. “Doesn’t it feel good?”

Believe me, I understand exactly how you feel, Amy… because I’ve experienced it so many times myself, often with a hand tucked between my thighs, fingers buried deep inside, probing myself. There’s nothing like it, that soft, warm mouth tug, tug, tugging at your breast.

Amy moans again. I nibble her neck, then whisper, “Talk to me… tell me everything. Isn’t it lovely, my child’s sweet little mouth?”

“Oooh wow, y-yes,” she stutters, practically glowing with the love and desire she feels. “I love it – I love her.”

“Are you still playing with yourself?”

Amy doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t need to. I can see her arm moving, hear the wet sound of fingers exploring her creamy hole. I know how she gets herself off — not from penetration, but from rubbing the length of her vaginal cleft from clit to opening, sometimes dipping inside very slightly. Her movements are erratic as the heat builds inside… going slowly, then faster, then slowly again. She is spreading thick, warm wetness all around her pussy to help her fingers glide up and down, building up friction in all the right spots.

Amy’s lips are parted in ecstasy, and I find myself wanting to taste them. “Kiss me,” I say to my young lover.

She tilts her head back, her face meets mine and I crush my lips into hers, licking into her mouth. Amy’s tongue immediately joins in the lewd dance. She moans like an animal in heat… then again, isn’t that what she is?

We share a passionate kiss of lovers. A thirty-one-year-old mother and a barely pubescent girl. My heart is swelling in triumph. I’ve made Amy do the unspeakable. I’ve encouraged her to make love to my child of three, and to allow Nina to love her in return.

I’m so close to coming again, keyed up by the sheer perversion of what we’re doing… and Amy’s luscious kisses only make the need for release more intense.

I feel Amy’s labored breaths, sense the motion of her hand as she continues to masturbate, bent forward over my lap, her nipple stimulated by my child’s warm mouth. She hums with pleasure as my tongue plays wicked games with hers.

In between kisses, I edge Amy further. “You love my little girl’s body, don’t you? So sweet, so forbidden…”

An excited shiver races through her slender frame, giving me my answer.

“And licking her smooth little cunny, yes. Don’t you love doing that, giving my child pleasure with your mouth?”

Amy’s lips, wet with kissing, are so close to mine that her words seem to enter my mouth. “Ooooh God, please don’t…” She wants me to stop questioning her, stop reminding her of what she just did.

But I’m too far gone to oblige her. “Answer me!” I demand.

“Yes!” Amy cries. I am pushing the poor girl deeper into self-awareness, perhaps further than she wants to go… but it’s for her own good. She has to embrace her true self, recognize this fierce craving as part of who she is.

“Is that why you’re touching yourself, then?” I continue. “Because that’s how much it thrills you, going down on my little girl, licking her cunt? Letting her suck your nipples?”

My young lover is on the verge of blessed oblivion as I make her face the truth: that she, fourteen-year-old Amy, an all around good girl, straight-A student and glee club member, is caught up in a helpless craving for lesbian sex with an older woman and her pre-nursery school daughter. That her need is stronger than rational thought. That she can’t stop herself from giving in to these twisted desires, even if she wanted to.

I’m about to come as well, awed by how utterly I’ve corrupted this once innocent teen. We’re in it together, partners in perversion… and it makes me so goddamned hot.

“Do you want to be fucked?” I ask Amy, using the crude word on purpose. She’s not the kind of girl who talks like that. I’ve teased her about it a few times.

Her face is so close to mine that I can read the struggle in her eyes. Amy shudders, moans… her arm still pumping, the busy hand a blur between her parted thighs.

“Don’t you come yet, girl!” I tell her, my tone razor-sharp. “Not until you answer my question.”

“Yes,” gasps Amy. “Yes, I — I want to fuck!”

I peer over the girl’s shoulder for a good look at Amy’s mother Sue, who is sitting in a chair in the corner. She is naked, just as we are, and masturbating as she watches us.

Sue is an older version of her daughter, still quite attractive in her late thirties, with generous breasts that, I suspect, look very much like Amy’s will when she fully ripens. Not quite as firm as they once were, perhaps, but impressive in size and shape, and her tummy is soft and welcoming. Sue has her hair pulled back into a ponytail. Her face has a few lines, but they only emphasize her mature beauty.

At this moment, Amy’s mother seems to radiate desire — hardly surprising, seeing as she’s been observing our lewd games from the very start.

Sue was my lover first… but she was surprisingly understanding when I admitted to my attraction to Amy. Not long after that, she realized that her daughter was nursing a huge crush on me as well.

She has a medium sized dildo in her hand that she slowly works in and out of her pussy. The toy hums as it vibrates deep inside her cunt.

Of course I’ve corrupted her, too. Sue and her daughter have both been drawn a step at a time into my world of sex, lust and depravity. Now, though, it’s time for her to do more than just watch.

“Come here, Sue,” I tell her.

Her generous breasts wobble as she rises, the glistening dildo in her hand, and pads over to where Amy is bent forward in my lap, her nipple still in my child’s mouth.

Little Nina is lying on her back, head nestled between my breasts. She is happily sandwiched between my body and Amy’s, warm and cozy.

“Get down on your knees,” I tell Sue. She obediently positions herself behind Amy. “Touch her,” I say. “Touch your daughter’s cunt.”

Surprised, Amy raises her head. Until now, her mother has only been a witness to our forbidden games, and has yet to participate. That changes now.

Sue is staring at me. She wasn’t expecting this, either. “I – I shouldn’t…”

“You should,” I tell her. “It’s what you want, after all.”

Amy’s eyes widen when she hears that. I can practically read her thoughts. Mom wants to touch me there?

It’s true, Sue does want to fondle her daughter – and more, much more.

She’d admitted as much to me one night, several days after I’d confessed the deeply-held desire I had for her daughter. How I’d dreamed of having young Amy for my lover. I didn’t mention wanting to bring Nina into it, or the things I longed to see Amy do to my little girl – not yet.

That was when Sue told me, You know, I’ve had those kinds of feelings for Amy, too. I first noticed them when she was nine, after I saw her naked in the bathroom. That night I – I touched myself, thinking about her beautiful body. 

She looked up at me. You think that makes me a bad mother?

I reassured her, told a mournful Sue that she was a wonderful mother. But all the while, I was making plans to realize her fantasy, then go further still, bringing the four of us together in a bond of forbidden pleasure – Sue, Amy, Nina and me.

Now, my wicked dream is on the brink of coming true.

“Do it,” I say, transfixing Sue with a steady, unblinking gaze. “Put your hand between Amy’s legs. Touch her, love her. She wants it, too.”

In truth, I’m not exactly sure that Amy does want sex with her mother. She’d never said so, and I’d never asked. But when Sue glances down at the girl, her mouth goes slack, eyes going wide.

What’s happening? I look for myself, thrilling at the sight of Amy raising her taut bottom, presenting it to Mommy, waiting to be fondled.

I can only imagine what’s going through Sue’s head as she stares at her daughter’s pretty pink holes, absently moistening her lips, perhaps imagining what it would be like to taste them. “Oh God,” she moans.

Amy shudders, her eyes meeting mine. There is a hint of fear, knowing that she is about to cross a line with her mother, to take their relationship into uncharted territory. But the danger excites her as well… and that, coupled with the need for release, is enough to overpower her concerns. She is ready for this, possibly even eager.

Lips quivering, Sue hesitantly slips a hand between her daughter’s thighs.

I can’t see Sue’s fingers make contact with Amy’s slit, but the gasp that escapes my young lover’s throat and the jolt of pleasure that shakes her body tells me everything I need to know.

“Mom,” she whispers. “Oh… oh, Mom.”

“My sweet Amy,” Sue says. “God, I love you.”

Amy begins to sway to and fro to the gentle rhythm of her mother’s fingers. She is still cradling Nina close, still nursing her. A surge of love for Amy overcomes me as she buries her face in the spun-sugar hair of my daughter, purring with pleasure.

Then I notice that my daughter has reached up to touch Amy’s other breast with a little hand while she suckles – cupping it, fondling it. Could her gesture be sexual, or is it merely affectionate? Or could that impossibly soft globe be a new plaything for my Nina to enjoy? Whatever the reason, the sight steals my breath away.

Now Sue is bent forward, nuzzling the flawless bottom of her own child, kissing it once, twice, three times. Her eyes drift open, and she pauses to admire the beauty of Amy’s cunt and anus, caressing both openings with curious fingertips.

Sue is so enthralled by the sight that she starts when I speak. “Put a finger inside her,” I say.

She hesitates, but only for a few seconds. Amy gives an ecstatic cry, then breathes, “Yes,” as Mommy penetrates her for the first time.

It’s only been two weeks since I took Amy’s virginity with my favorite vibrator, so she’s still very tight. But she’s also intensely aroused, moving steadily toward the all-consuming emptiness of orgasm. She is never quick to come, our Amy – no matter how intense her excitement is, my young lover has to work her way up to that sweet, final release, and when it finally happens… well, she goes off like a hand grenade.

I can detect movement as Sue slides her finger into Amy’s vagina, then pulls back. In again, out again. Slow. Gentle. Like a loving mommy should do when pleasuring her daughter.

Amy’s mother is placing tender kisses on the girl’s bottom. She senses that I am watching, and lifts her head to meet my eyes. All I see is love and lust. She sees the same from me.

“My God,” she whispers. “She’s so… so fucking wet.”

When I first knew Sue, she never used dirty words; never even discussed sex, even when she and I were in bed together. Perhaps that is why I ached so badly to take the woman out of her comfort zone. Teach her the joys of life on the razor’s edge.

Sue’s eyes are hungry. “C-can I taste her?”

I feel a shiver run through Amy as she hears her mother’s words. Of course, I have no objection to Sue going down on her daughter, but it thrills me to hear her ask permission. “Yes, you can,” is my reply.

The woman is on her knees; now she gets down on all fours, her face an inch of two from Amy’s cunt. I see her slowly draw forward, then Amy cries, “Oh!” as Mommy steals a warm, luscious kiss, then pauses to enjoy the flavor of it.

For a few heartbeats, I’m lost in the memory of going down on Amy for the first time, how the sheer beauty of the moment moved me to tears. Then Amy moans, and I’m brought back to the here and now.

I slip a hand between Amy and my daughter’s warm tummy, until it rests on Nina’s baby-smooth vulva. I’m holding it. Cupping it. So warm and silky soft, like nothing else on earth.

“Kiss me,” I instruct Amy. My voice is slightly hoarse… merciful Christ, I’m so fucking close to coming. “Kiss me while your mommy licks you.”

Amy raises herself, and our mouths meet again. Still feasting on her daughter – I can actually hear the liquid sound of it – Sue whimpers as she sees us share a deep, hungry kiss, our tongues tangling and twirling in a lustful dance.

I’ve still got a hand between my little girl’s legs, touching her bare slit. But I’m watching Sue over Amy’s shoulder. Really, all I can see is the upper half of her face – the mouth and nose are nestled between the girl’s cheeks as she pleasures her daughter’s holes.

Amy and I continue to French kiss. She is moaning into my hungry mouth, as if feeding me her lust. What a wild, dangerous, wonderful gift to receive from a girl of fourteen!

This must be what gods feel like. I’ve done it, realized my ultimate desire. The four of us are bound together in a hot, sweaty tangle of lesbian sex, incest and pedophilia. The world would respond to what we’re doing with horror and disgust, but never in my life have I felt so wonderfully free.

Now Amy is too out of breath to kiss me, and her head slips down to rest on my shoulder. She is panting for air, trembling helplessly, drawing closer and closer to blissful release. Sue is trailing her tongue through the crack of her daughter’s ass, then she licks a path back down to Amy’s cunt. The girl cries out, so I know that Mommy is paying special attention to her clitoris.

A jerk shakes Amy’s slender frame, then another – and just like that, she is coming. I quickly cup her face in my hands so I can peer into her eyes. I want to see the storm taking her soul.

“Come for me, Amy,” I tell her. “Come for your mother. Feel her tongue, gliding over your pretty cunt. Feel my child’s mouth on your nipple. That’s it, just let go, let it happen…”

Amy gives one final, violent shudder, then her eyes swim out of focus. “Oh, Mom – I love you,” she manages to say before going limp. I catch her with one arm as she slumps to the side. A pleasure-dazed Nina is startled to have lost Amy’s nipple, but I bring her to my own breast, where she latches on without a word.

Though she is out of breath, Amy manages to find my other nipple, then takes it into the lovely warmth of her mouth. It takes my breath away, the pure ecstasy of nursing both my girls at once.

Then I see Sue kneeling behind Amy. She has an arm wrapped around her daughter, and is caressing the girl’s flawless little breasts. Quickly straightening, Amy turns to face her mother, and they meet in a kiss that quickly strikes fire, their tongues emerging to play.

Then – oh, my God – I see Sue’s free hand seeking out the bare body of my little girl, fondling her, too. I stare in awe as she gently toys with Nina’s vaginal cleft, probing it with the tip of a finger.

Sue and I have made love many times, but she has never before shown sexual interest in my daughter. Not a hint of it. Why is she touching her so intimately now? I don’t know, but my excitement is at a fever pitch.

The possibilities dazzle me. In fact, I’m downright giddy at the idea of all four of us being lesbian lovers – no pleasure left unexplored, no combination of sex partners that isn’t allowed, with me as the conductor who calls the tune.

That is when my own wall-shaking orgasm claims me, rising inside like a sudden storm – and all I can do is give myself over to its power. I’m not even touching myself, but that doesn’t matter, not when I’m living out this twisted, perverse, beautiful fantasy.

The world is mine, and I swallow it in a single ravenous gulp.

The End

Afterword: Thank you for reading my latest story. 

As always, JetBoy served as the editor who made my musings better than I could ever make them solo. His patience with my writing, his understanding of what I am trying to convey, his gentle nudges where the story needed something more, less or different, it is all very much appreciated. And you, reader, benefit from it as much as I do. Thank you, JetBoy, for editing… but also for keeping this beautiful space for our writing alive and well. There are no words to describe how important Juicy Secrets is for me.

This story was a departure for me in that it included a more forceful protagonist. I have not written from that perspective before. I am not that. But through a recent online relationship I have learned a great deal more about myself, and that I am, perhaps, more of a “follower”, more of an “obeyer” than I realized I was. And I have one special person to thank for that. You know who you are.

by Kinkys_sis (with Shy Mom)

My beautiful Bee … my beautiful Bee … my beautiful Bee …

Those words thrum through my head like a heartbeat.

You know by now how shy I am, Bee, my beautiful. But I think you’ve caught glimpses of how quick and naughty I can be, too. You’ve unlocked that hidden part of me.

Lots of people don’t notice me, or ignore me, because I shrink from attention. That’s mostly fine. I’ve gotten used to being left alone, and like it. I can do what I want, be what I want. I don’t have to please people who don’t matter.

Still, it can get lonely sometimes.

We move around a lot. My parents keep going from one university to another, getting degrees and stuff. This time, we moved “across the pond.” So when I make friends, I know I’ll lose them before long.

I’ve learned it’s better to make friends with books. We have lots of books. They move with us, so they’re always there for me.

Actually, it’s the authors and characters who are there. They live in my head. I imagine talking with them. They can be more lively than the loud people around me.

Now you are in my head, Bee, and the most interesting friend of all. My girlfriend.

I still can’t believe it. I pinch myself to make sure.

So… can I confess that I did more than pinch myself last night? That’s why I’m writing to you. It’s easier to say things with my keyboard sometimes. Okay, most times. I write a lot.

In my bedroom, remembering what we did — what you did — I teased my nipples. I covered them with spit and imagined it was your mouth that got them wet. They stiffened like pebbles. They felt delicious to touch.

I caressed my tummy on the way down. I played with my belly button, remembering how you licked it. My pussy tingled.

Yes, my pussy. I know that word, and an even dirtier word, cunt. I read a lot.

I was too shy to say it, so I came up with “pee purse.” Is that silly? But you didn’t laugh at me. You used it too.

I massaged my mound. I don’t have any hair because I’m still just a little girl. I was going to say sexless little girl, but no more, thanks to you! Kisses and kisses, Bee.

I ran a finger up and down my girl lips, my slit. It was so wet. I think it’s called cum? When I closed my eyes, I imagined your tongue loving me down there. How did I taste?

I tried for myself… mmmm. Like salt and lemonade and honey. Most of all, like sex.

At least, that’s what came to mind when I tasted myself. It made me wild to have sex with you. To get fucked by you.

Yesterday, I said you can sex me, but what I thought was, you can fuck me. I never said that word out loud before, until after our sex. Our fuck. But I’ve thought it.

I thought it when you sat down on the bus next to me. I even thought it when I peed, and you were watching.

I knew you were watching. It made me pee harder for you. Was that naughty?

So I played with my pee purse, my pussy, my cunt, like you did with your divine fingers and tongue. I adored how tender you were. You knew I was a virgin?

Was a virgin. Not anymore.

You took my virginity and my heart at ten. I’m crying now writing this. You’re fucking beautiful, Bee. I love you.

I write this message to you because I am not experienced at expressing my feelings to other people… not anyone.

You have cut through my reserve. You have woken something in me that I never knew existed. You have captured my heart, it is yours. It scares me, how I feel. But it also excites me.

The toughest girl, no… the toughest person in our school says she loves me. Me… oh my god!

***

We had been so wrapped up in each other, I’d forgotten the time until I glanced at my clock. Shit! I had to get her home, I’d promised her mum.

For a moment longer, I looked down at her, peacefully sleeping, her face showed her happiness. Again, I marvelled at how she had so quickly invaded my heart. I hated to wake her, but I knew that I had to.

My lips brushed gently on hers, she turned a little and sighed. Her eyes flashed open, for a moment bewildered but then she smiled and reached a hand to my face. “Bee, you are real. It’s not all just a dream.”

“Oh, it’s real, my love, but I had to wake you, we have to go.”

For the first time, she pouted. God, it was lovely, So I told her, “Just one more kiss, then we really have to go.”

We arranged for me to collect her again the next day and I left her my phone number and email address. I ached to kiss her goodbye but that was impossible with her mother looking on.

At dinner time, Mum and Maria gave me strange looks. They knew nothing about Evelyn, not yet.

Maria asked first. “You look happy with yourself today, Bee, Something good happened?”

Mum knows exactly what Maria and I are. She doesn’t approve, but she quietly accepts the situation. She’s not stupid, though. “Looks to me like you’ve met someone. Is she nice?”

God, can’t I keep a secret around here? “Well, yes I did meet someone. Actually, I’d seen her a while ago, but we only just became friends.”

“So, come on sis, spill the beans. Who is she?” Maria asked.

Now I got nervous, I mean Evelyn was only ten — well, nearly eleven. Would they laugh at me or would they be shocked? “Her name is Evelyn and you can meet her tomorrow, but I want you to promise something. She’s a bit younger than me. You won’t say anything embarrassing in front of her, will you?”

“Bee, you’re worried, it’s quite clear, so just exactly how young do you mean?” my mum asked.

Fuck! Here we go, “She’s almost eleven but she seems older coz she’s very clever, and — ”

The look on Mum’s face stopped me dead. “You mean that she’s only ten? Oh, my god, Bee, whatever are you thinking?”

I felt the tears coming. This was going all wrong. I wanted them to like her, not have a go at me. But Maria answered for me.

“Mum, it’s okay. Bee’s not stupid, so why don’t we give her a chance? Let’s meet the girl first, then we’ll see.”

Mum still looked doubtful but then; “If you say so, but I would rather have not known. But yes, we will meet her if that’s what you want, Bee.”

I took Maria’s hand. “Thank you, sis. It’ll be fine, just you wait and see.”

Back in my room, I fired up my laptop. A message! A message from Evelyn. Hastily, I clicked and read.

My wonderful Bee

How happy you made me today, I still can’t believe it. What you saw in me I will never understand. But it’s enough for me that you did.

And then in your room, I can’t put it in words what you made me feel. I feel alive for the first time in my life.

I’m going to write you a bit about me, you can read it in the morning. 

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Love, love, love,

Evelyn

xxxxxxx

I wasn’t usually one for crying but this girl had got me all emotional. Now I cried. Tomorrow seemed such a long time away.

I woke early and eagerly checked my messages. Nothing! Oh well, it’s early yet, so breakfast first. Mum was surprised to see me. “It’s Sunday, Bee, what on earth are you doing up so early?”

“I want to go for my run nice and early so I can be showered and done before I fetch Evelyn.”

I ran through the reserve. It was another beautiful morning. Maria would usually run with me but she’d said it was too early and she would run later. I didn’t mind, not today. I wanted to be able to think about Evelyn on my own.

Back in my room and there was her message. I read it once very fast, then read it again slowly. Her words tugged at my heart, reading about what she had gone through, the loneliness she had suffered. But then came the good part, the sexy part. I could feel myself flush and the tingle between my legs. Would she touch me there today?

I went for my shower, tossed my running stuff in the wash basket, but only after I gave the shorts a wipe with my flannel. They were all wet and gooey in the crotch.

The water rinsed away my sweat as I stood there with my eyes closed. The image of Evelyn was sharp in my mind. I thought of her being here, how she would reach out for me. I pulled and pinched my nipples like I imagined she would. I pulled my lips open wide so she could see inside me. My clit was swollen when my fingers touched, “Oh Evelyn, will you love me?” I couldn’t wait any longer. I rubbed my clit with two fingers, my other hand reaching behind. I found my asshole and pushed in, no gentle easing, just a desperate need. I didn’t have to fuck myself for long. My baby had awoken a lust in me. I was coming in no time at all.

I chose something pretty to wear but made sure it wasn’t something that made me look older. I started to pull my knickers on but then I paused. Maybe? Yes, I would. I threw them back in the drawer.

She was waiting out front when I got there, I saw her mum at a window and Evelyn waved to her, I saw her wave back and the smile on her face. Oh well, she seemed happy enough with me.

She took my hand as we walked. “Did you like my message, Bee?”

“Yes, I did and I must say, what a surprise. I was a bit shocked, but in a nice way. It was so sexy and I loved it.”

She turned to face me and after a quick look about, pulled me into a hug. “I’m so pleased you liked it. I nearly deleted half of it but then somehow I knew that you’d love it.” Her hands were at the top of my bum.

“Would you like a surprise?” She gave a nod, “Move your hands down and feel my bum.”

I saw her hesitate. This was a new step for her but then her hands slowly slipped lower. “Now lift my skirt.”

She gave a gasp when she felt my bare bum. “Bee, you don’t have any panties on. That’s so naughty.” Then she frowned. I was getting used to that. “But I shouldn’t be touching your bum, that’s rude.” She seemed to think about what she’d said. “But it’s nice, all soft and round.”

I felt her hands slowly roam across my cheeks. She hesitated at the crease. To be honest, I would have been surprised if she had gone in. But I still loved her touch.

“Come on,” I said, “let’s get back to mine before I molest you in the street.”

“Ooh, what a nice thought that is,” she answered. Her shyness wasn’t showing at all, at least not with me.

“You’re going to meet my mum and sister. Mum’s doing a little lunch for us.”

Now, her shyness showed. “You didn’t say anything about meeting anybody, Bee, but I suppose it’s obvious really. I didn’t think.” She looked quite agitated.

I stopped walking and turned her to me. “Evelyn, don’t worry. It’ll be fine, I promise.” I hoped I was telling the truth.

She didn’t seem any happier but she continued on beside me.

I half expected Mum to be at the door when we got there but there was no sign of anyone. Then she called from the kitchen, “That you, Bee? I’m in here.”

I almost had to drag Evelyn into the kitchen. I was dreading Mum’s reaction just as much as Evelyn seemed to be. But I got a surprise.

“Oh my, what a pretty girl you are, Evelyn. It makes a change from some—”

“Mum, please don’t say anymore.”

Mum actually looked guilty. “No, you’re right, I’m sorry. Now let me look at you.” She gave an unhappy Evelyn a close check-out. “I’ll be honest, I was worried when Bee told me your age but you’re lovely, I must admit. And you do look older than she said, well, a little anyway.”

The weight lifted off my shoulders. It was going to be okay. Then Maria came in.

Instantly, I knew that look. She was just as taken with Evelyn as I had been. Maria saw that I’d seen and immediately blushed. “Oh Bee, she’s divine. You lucky girl.”

Her words pleased me well enough, but Evelyn looked shocked. Maria recovered her poise. “Don’t mind me. What I mean is, I can see why Bee likes you.”

Mum spoke up. “Enough of this chatter. Off you go and… whatever, while I finish lunch.”

I led Evelyn upstairs. “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

As soon as I closed my door, she was in my arms. We didn’t either of us have to ask. Our lips came together for a kiss. This time, it was passionate, filled with a joint need and love.

I backed to the bed and let myself fall, pulling her with me so she lay on top. She pressed straight down on me and I humped myself up into her. She caught on immediately and ground her pussy against mine.

I took hold of her ass and pressed her harder. I could feel my own arousal rapidly mounting, but I was just as aware of hers. The way she was kissing me. there was an eagerness I hadn’t felt before, so I knew she was enjoying this.

My need had been so high, my climax came without warning. She must have known, because her face pulled away and she stared at me as I was shaking. She pressed and moved herself faster and harder. My orgasm was wonderful, washing over me, as good as any I’d ever had.

“I made you come. Oh Bee, I did it,” she said. Then she gave an, “Oooh.” Her eyes screwed shut, and she gritted her teeth. I pressed myself into her pussy, but I think the ‘ooh’ was because my finger had found her asshole. I hadn’t meant to, but I was so used to doing it, it just naturally happened.

I stopped myself from trying to push into her and contented myself with just a tickle, round and round. She was right on the edge, her fingers dug into my shoulders. I pressed her little rosebud, just entering a tiny bit, but it was enough. She went rigid, unable to move, and I pushed a little bit further into her ass. The orgasm took hold and she began to tremble, her ass gripped my finger, then I felt her wetness warming me. As much as I loved that, I was worried that she might soil her clothes, I hadn’t prepared for this.

She flopped down on me, still gripping me fiercely. My finger was still in her bum, not very far in but she must know, it was too late to worry about it now.

We both calmed down, our breathing settling. “You okay, my love?” I asked her.

She lifted her head. “Oh yes, so okay and so happy that I made you come. I did, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did and it was beautiful, thank you, but we’d better move. I didn’t mean for that to happen until after lunch. Mum might call us anytime soon, so we better get cleaned up.”

“Well, if you were to take your finger out of my bum, I might be able to move.” She was grinning broadly. God, that was a relief.

The coast was clear as we went to the bathroom. “I need a pee,” I said.

“Oops sorry, shall I go and wait?”

“Don’t be silly, after what we just did, you think I can’t pee in front of you? And there’s no need to turn around either.”

I opened my legs wider than I usually would, her eyes were fixed on my pussy. Of course, I realised, she hadn’t seen it until now. I reached down and spread my lips and then I peed. Her eyes opened wide as she watched. My fingers got wet, and she followed them with her eyes as I lifted my fingers to my mouth and sucked them dry.

“But Bee, that’s your pee. That’s… gross.”

“Not to me it isn’t. I like my taste. Now, you already had a little pee. You wanna finish?”

She looked nervous again. She sat on the loo while I stood right in front of her. “No, Evelyn, open your legs for me so I can see as well.”

Slowly, she spread them, but nothing happened. “Hey don’t mind me, my love, let it go.”

There was a little squirt. I saw her clench her tummy, pressing, then she really did pee. I couldn’t resist it, I reached down, my palm facing up, and then I spread my fingers out, feeling her warmth.

Once again, I sucked my fingers, savouring her flavour, all the time my eyes looking into hers.

I heard a shout. It was Maria. “Five minutes, you two!”

Hurriedly, we washed and cleaned ourselves. Back in my room, I changed my skirt, which was still wet from earlier. Then we hurried downstairs.

Of course, I saw Maria’s all-knowing look, but thankfully, Mum seemed oblivious. It turned out to be a pleasant lunch and quite quickly, I saw Evelyn relaxing.

I carried our plates into the kitchen, my mum following behind me. “She’s a very nice, polite girl but she is still a bit young. I hope you know what you’re doing, Bee.”

Naturally, I told her I did and she didn’t have to worry.

Evelyn and I went back to my room and sat on the bed. “What’s up, love?” I asked her.

“I want to see you undressed and I want to love you, you know, like you did to me yesterday. Will you show me what to do?”

“Oh, my love, I told you, I don’t need to show you. Just do what you want. It’ll come, you’ll see,”

I slipped out of my skirt and top and stood still, watching her eyes darting here and there as she took in all of me. Then she smiled. “Bee, you’re so beautiful. Are you really mine?”

“Oh yes, I am, all yours.” Then I climbed onto the bed.

I lay there as she played with my tits. I saw how she loved them. And then how she discovered my nipples and how they responded to her touch. Her smile told me everything.

I watched as she went lower. I never dreamed for a moment that she would. but then… heaven. Oh, fuck. Her tongue found my clit. She glanced up. “Is it here?”

“Fuck yes.”

It didn’t take long for me to come.

She was smiling at me. “There, now I did it properly, and I made you come. And guess what? You taste so amazing, I would never have thought that. Oh, I forgot, I didn’t touch your bum. I’m sorry.”

“Plenty of time for that, my beautiful Evelyn.”

***

Monday came, we walked to school, I was holding her hand when we passed through the gate. She looked at me. “Bee, you don’t care?”

“Evelyn, why would I? Ain’t no one in this school gonna argue with me.”

Her look was divine. “No, there isn’t, is there? Not with my champion.”

On to: Part Three!

by BlueJean

“Mum?”

I was dancing in the wildflower meadow with Freya and Millie. But it was nighttime, and when the sun went down the wildflower meadow became The Midnight Garden, a place of whispers and cool seduction.

We were naked, the three of us, whirling and gyrating amongst sorrel and buttercup and yarrow, the flowers taller, more brightly coloured than I ever remembered them being. The girls giggled as they tried to swat my bum, but I was too quick for them and deftly evaded their attempts.

A full moon hung in the sky, illuminating our exquisite dance, and fireflies of purple and green glowed and pulsed, casting strange shadows across the garden.

“Mum?”

Sadie was here as well, poised on the other side of the fence with her fingers tucked into the waistband of her trousers, an expectant look on her face.

“Can I come in and join you? Can I?” she asked me.

“Well, I don’t know,” I told her teasingly. “What do you think, girls? Should we let Miss Laine join us?”

Freya and Millie just laughed and frolicked through the wildflowers, while black and gold butterflies the size of birds fluttered around us, and big fat electric blue bumblebees harvested silver nectar.

Something else laughed with us too, something strange and ancient, ghosting through the trees.

And Mr. Dalliard hammered a new fence post into the ground nearby.

“Mum!”

Hold on…

What’s Mr. Dalliard doing here?

He shouldn’t be here. This is a place for girls only.

And why is he naked?

No.

No, this is all kinds of wrong.

“Always the bloomin’ same, it is,” Mr. Dalliard was saying. “Dead ‘usband, or ‘usband away on business trip, or divorced ‘usband, or wife-beatin’ ‘usband bin kicked out, or no bloomin’ ‘usband at all! Us fellas has got feelins’ too, ya know! Why can’t we be joinin’ in with the fun?”

“Away with you, Mr. Dalliard!” I cried, my hand held aloft. “There’s no place for you or your meat and two veg here!”

“Mummy! Wake up!”

“Wossamagga?” I mumbled and opened my eyes.

Wossamagga. Yes. I had invented a brand new word, and the Oxford English Dictionary would need to be informed.

Freya slowly came into focus. She was standing by my bed, shaking me.

“What time is it?” I groaned.

“About five o’clock in the morning,” she told me.

“Why did you wake me?”

“Millie’s not in bed.”

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. “What do you mean she’s not in bed? Where is she?”

“I dunno. Bee’s gone too.”

Hastening out of bed, I peeked through the curtains. The sun was barely up, casting an orange hue on the horizon. The first early risers chirped and warbled their morning songs.

“Did you check downstairs?” I asked Freya.

“Yeah, she’s not there.”

“Put your wellies on and let’s go find her,” I said, and we hurried downstairs.

“Millie!” I shouted as we walked down the garden.

Freya climbed the tree house ladder to check up there, but found it unoccupied.

I walked to the edge of the poppy field and shouted out Millie’s name there too, but no answer.

I felt panic rising in my chest and had to push it back down. Keep calm, she’s okay, I told myself.

Suddenly I could hear a dog barking in the distance.”That’s Bee!” Freya said and dashed off in the direction of the sound.

“Wait, Freya!” I said, running after her.

Bee was standing at the edge of the forest, wagging her tail as we approached.

“Hey, puppy,” I said, scratching her behind the ears. “Where is she? Where’s Millie?”

“Go find her, Bee! Go find Millie!” Freya told the pup and Bee ran off into the woods with us in hot pursuit.

The puppy led us to a small clearing in the forest and then hid behind my legs.

I couldn’t believe my eyes. Millie was kneeling on the ground in her pajamas, her eyes closed, hands in her lap. In front of her, its eyes also shut, was a beautiful white roe deer.

My daughter and the animal held their foreheads together in some shared reverie. A greeting or a farewell, perhaps a silent prayer.

Was I still dreaming?

“What’re they doing?” Freya whispered to me.

“Millie?” I said in a hushed voice, unsure if I should disturb whatever it was they were doing.

The deer opened its eyes, fixed its gaze on me, then turned and ran off into the trees.

Millie noticed us and yawned. “Mummy, am I a wolf or a deer?” she asked me.

Sleepwalking. Of course, she was sleepwalking. She’d never done anything like that before, as far as I knew, but I didn’t have a better explanation.

And the deer? Just an inquisitive animal, perhaps. Who wouldn’t be curious to find a pajama-clad little girl asleep in the woods? It was like something from a fairy tale.

I put my arms around my youngest daughter and picked her up. “You have to tell us if you’re going out somewhere, Millie,” I told her gently.

“Can we have honey on porridge when we get home?” she asked, gazing up at me with sleepy eyes.

Freya was watching something in the trees, a frown on her face.

“What is it?” I asked her.

“I thought I saw something,” she replied.

“Probably just the deer,” I told her. “Let’s go home.”

***

The rest of the day was stiflingly hot. Freya, Millie and the puppy spent most of it paddling in the stream while I took refuge indoors with a water cooler and several books on beekeeping. I’d gone from two hives to thirty in a few short years, but there were always new things to learn.

When the evening arrived, the heat had dissipated a little, but it was clammy and uncomfortable. I knew what that meant.

The first rumble of thunder could be heard in the distance just after the girls had gone to bed, and by the time the sun had disappeared over the horizon, a blanket of falling rain enveloped the cottage.

I love summer rainstorms. I sat in the lounge with the French doors open and watched the monsoon fall, the thatched eaves wide enough to draw the rain away from the house in the absence of more modern gutters. Distant lightning illuminated the sky and the surrounding fields, making strange silhouettes of trees and clouds.

I had a bowl of our home-grown strawberries next to me on the couch, which I would dip into a little pot of chocolate sauce, then wash down with a glass of strawberry and lime flavoured gin and lemonade. So decadent.

I undid the first couple of buttons on my linen shirt and wiped away the perspiration that had collected in the hollow of my throat. Such a sticky, humid night.

I smiled to myself and stood up, undoing the rest of the buttons on my shirt and letting it fall to the floor, soon to be joined by my trousers and panties. I stepped outside into the rain and put my arms behind my head, letting the water cascade down my naked skin. So cool. So unbelievably wonderful.

“Oh my word,” I said, grinning from ear to ear.

Laughing joyously, I spun round and round, the heavy, unrelenting raindrops stinging my skin pleasantly. I pushed my drenched hair back and stood there in the garden with my face to the sky, letting the rain pound against me, all my worries and fears washing away. Nothing else mattered right now. Just this. Naked in the cool, cool rain.

More thunder rumbled in the distance, still miles away but closer than before. I decided to check on Bee and the girls.

I closed the doors up and carried my clothes upstairs, water dripping from my body onto the steps below.

I could hear voices coming from the girls’ room, the words indistinct under the sound of the hammering downpour. I padded across the landing and peered inside their bedroom, the door slightly ajar, leaving a small wedge of light to peek through.

Bee was asleep on her back on Millie’s bed, her little legs stuck out and pointed upwards comically.

Millie and Freya were most definitely not asleep. I put a hand to my mouth and gasped.

Freya was sprawled back on her bed with Millie on top of her in a sixty-nine, both of them completely naked as they ate each other out. Where on earth had they learnt to do that?

“You smell really nice, Millie,” Freya told her sister as she held Millie’s bum cheeks apart, trailing long licks up and down her cleft.

Millie’s face appeared from between her big sister’s legs, lips glistening with moisture. “Thanks. Is it my kitty that smells nice?” she said.

“Your bum and your kitty. It just all smells so… so sexy,” Freya told her.

“You’re quite dirty, aren’t you?” Millie giggled.

Freya giggled too. “Yeah, I am a bit. Don’t stop licking me, please.”

My hand found its way between my legs. I couldn’t stop it. Dropping my clothes, I leaned against the doorframe, pushing two fingers through my folds and kneading a breast as I peeked through the little gap at this delightfully erotic scene.

Stop this, it’s not right!

No. I’m not stopping. I’m just not, okay?

“Oh, yeah. Lick each other,” I mouthed silently, not daring to speak or even whisper the words.

“Shall I stick my tongue in your hole, Millie?” Freya asked her sister.

Yes. Do that. Please do that.

“Yeah, okay. Stick it in as far as you can, then push it in and out really fast,” Millie said.

I didn’t know little girls could be like this.

“Okay, but you have to do it to me too,” Freya said and spread her sister’s arse cheeks even further apart. She drew back slightly to inspect her target, then stabbed her tongue deep inside Millie’s tiny cunt hole.

Oh, God yes. Tongue fuck your little sister. Do it to her!

I shoved two fingers into my own cunt, hoping that the pouring rain would drown out the sounds of my heavy breathing and the sticky, sloshy noises between my legs.

“Oh, wow, it feels so deep inside my kitty!” Millie gushed, looking back at her sister with a dopey smile on her face.

Freya frowned. “Don’t stop licking me, Millie, I want to do an orgasm.”

An orgasm? She’s having orgasms?

Millie put her face back down between Freya’s legs and tongued her cunt enthusiastically.

Lifting her arse off the bed, Freya humped her sister’s mouth. “I – I love doing naughty stuff with you, Millie!” she gasped, lashing her tongue against Millie’s slit.

“Oh, fuck, you dirty girls. Mummy’s gonna come,” I mouthed silently as my fingers thrashed against my clit.

“Millie, I’m d-doing it! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” Freya groaned, then came in her little sister’s face.

I came, too. I leant back against the wall and held my fingers inside as my orgasm shuddered through me, clamping the other hand over my mouth to muffle a moan.

“It’s so wet,” Millie said as she rubbed her fingers over Freya’s pussy, then took them away to inspect the slick fluid that coated them.

Freya took one last lick of Millie’s hairless cunt. “Yummy kitty!” she said, and both girls giggled.

I picked my clothes up and crept to the bathroom to fetch a towel. I slept naked that night and treated myself to several more orgasms.

***

Mr. Dalliard came round to repair the fence around our vegetable patch, and as Millie and me tended to the vegetables for Mum, he told us stories about his life.

He said he fought in both world wars but I couldn’t see how he could have been a soldier in World War One, unless my maths were wrong. I didn’t want to say anything because I heard that if you tell people they didn’t fight in a war when they actually did, it made them really angry. I would definitely be getting my calculator out later though.

“Mr. Dalliard?” Millie said as she sprinkled the courgettes with her pink watering can.

“Aye, nipper?” Mr. Dalliard said and hammered another slat onto the cross beams of the fence.

“How old are you?”

OMG, here we go.

“Buggered if I know. Lost count years ago, I did.”

“You just said a swear word!” I gasped as I picked some beans from their stalk and put them in a little basket.

“Don’t tell yer mum then, or she’ll tan me ‘ide,” Mr. Dalliard grinned.

Millie and me giggled.

“I asked the Dryad how old you were, but I can’t remember if she told me or not,” Millie said.

Mr. Dalliard stopped hammering and just sort of stared at the fence with a strange look on his face. He didn’t look at us when he finally spoke. “Lady ‘o the oak spoke t’ya, did she?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Millie hummed, nodding.

“Best not speak to ‘er anymore, Millie,” Mr. Dalliard said.

I never heard him call us by our names until then. “Why? You told us to ask her how old you were,” I said.

“I was only muckin’ about, nipper. Dryad don’t normally talk to folk, but when they do… well, just best to stay away from that old oak, maybe.”

“She’s not bad or anything, though,” Millie said.

“No, she ain’t bad, but neither be a tree when it falls on top o’ yer.”

I think I might have mentioned it before but Mr. Dalliard says some weird stuff sometimes. Me and Millie just stared at him.

Mr. Dalliard sighed and put his hammer down. “What I means to say is, nature ain’t good nor bad, but that don’t mean it can’t ‘urt ya sometimes. You’s gotta respect it, enjoy it from a distance, mayhap.” He looked over at us. “You ‘ear me, young’uns?”

“Yes, Mr. Dalliard,” Millie and me said together.

***

Later on, Miss Laine came round to have dinner with us.

Miss Laine was probably the nicest teacher in the world and all the other kids at school were jealous that she and our mum were best friends and that we got to spend a lot of time with her. Sometimes she even stayed the night at our house if she had too much to drink and couldn’t drive home, although she always told us not to tell the other kids about that.

As soon as we saw her little car outside the cottage, we ran out to greet her.

“Hello, Miss Laine!” Millie shouted.

Miss Laine climbed out of her car and kissed us both on the cheek, making a ‘mwah’ noise. I noticed that she smelled really nice, like body wash and flowers. “Hello, girls. Are you being good?”

“Miss Laine, will you watch a movie with us later?” Millie asked.

“Miss Laine, can you help me write my diary?” I asked.

“Miss Laine, I ate nearly a whole jar of your damson jam!”

“Miss Laine, shall we show you the poppy field after dinner?”

“Miss Laine, I sleepwalked into the forest and made friends with a deer.”

“Miss Laine, we met this girl called Kerry and played pirates with her on Habbernack Island.”

“Miss Laine, will you tuck us up in bed and read us a story later?”

Miss Laine held her hands out over our heads and gave us a stern look. “Shhhhh,” she told us. “Calm… calm… calm.”

Millie and me closed our mouths and stood to attention.

Miss Laine looked from me to my sister several times and then nodded approvingly. “Now. Are you both calm?”

“Yes, Miss Laine,” we said together.

Suddenly she burst out laughing and attacked us with tickles. “The Tickle Monster’s coming to get you! Tickle tickle tickle!” she shrieked, chasing after us as we ran away towards the house, giggling hysterically.

I was a bit old for the Tickle Monster really but I didn’t mind joining in, just this once.

Okay, fine, I did kind of like it when Miss Laine tickled me. Happy now?

Mum met us at the door and let Miss Laine inside but she wouldn’t let me and Millie in. “And you two are…?”

I rolled my eyes. Mum played this game a lot. Most days when we came home from school, actually. She thought it was hilariously funny.

“We’re your daughters, Mummy!” Millie said, giggling.

I wasn’t playing along, so I just crossed my arms and gave Mum a look.

“My daughters? I don’t remember having any daughters. Are you sure?” Mum said dramatically. If you wanted to know where Millie got her bad acting skills from, well now you do.

“Can I come in, please? I need a wee,” I said, stamping my foot.

“Okay, but only for five minutes,” Mum said, looking ever so pleased with herself.

“You’re so weird, Mummy,” Millie said and poked Mum in the leg.

“Ow!”

We ate dinner outside on the rattan dining table, with the big parasol up to keep us shaded from the sun. Mum made roasted sea bream with lemon and olive oil and we had fresh vegetables from our garden too.

“Miss Laine, me and Freya picked these beans and courgettes,” Millie told our teacher.

“Oh, they’re delicious!” Miss Laine said and me and Millie smiled proudly. “You don’t need to keep calling me Miss Laine, though. Sadie’s okay when we’re not at school.”

“Okay… Sadie,” I said, almost swooning with delight. When the other girls at school found out that me and Millie were allowed to call Miss Laine by her first name, they’d probably try to gouge my eyes out in jealousy. I couldn’t wait to tell them!

Millie kept picking bits of food off her plate and feeding them to Bee, who was under the table.

“Millie, stop feeding the puppy, you’ll encourage her to beg,” Mum told her.

“Sorry,” Millie said and shrugged at Bee.

“What’s this about you and a deer, Millie?” Miss Laine asked my sister.

“Mummy said I was sleepwalking and this deer was there trying to kiss me or something,” Millie explained.

“Don’t you remember?” I said.

“Sort of. The Dryad wanted me to meet the deer, I think.”

“Dryad? A tree nymph?” Miss Laine asked with interest.

“Mr. Dalliard told them about a forest spirit that lives in that ancient oak down by the fields,” Mum explained to Miss Laine.

“Oh, I see. What does she look like, Millie?”

Millie chewed on a string bean and we all waited for her to finish. “Well,” she said finally. “She’s green and naked.”

“Green and naked, huh?” Mum said.

“You’ve just described The Incredible Hulk,” I told my sister.

Millie was chewing on another bean but she was too impatient so she pulled it out of her mouth and put it back on her plate. “No, she’s like the other green one, the woman from the space movies, but with no clothes and longer hair. She’s really pretty like Miss La— um… Sadie.”

“Well, thank you, Millie Newton!” Miss Laine said and kissed Millie on the cheek.

“I think you’re pretty too,” I said quickly. No way was I going to be left out.

“And thank you, Freya,” Miss Laine said and kissed me too. I smiled shyly.

“Have you seen the tree nymph, too?” Miss Laine asked me.

Well, I had seen something. Mum said it was just the deer but to me it looked like… walking leaves? I don’t know, but the more I looked at it, the harder it was to see. I couldn’t tell Miss Laine any of that though.

“No, Millie just made it up. Mum says she’s got an overactive thyroid,” I said, feeling very mature.

Mum and Miss Laine burst out laughing.

“What?” I said.

“You mean an overactive imagination.” Mum was barely able to explain, she was laughing so much. “An overactive thyroid is what Mrs. Jeffries down at the post office has got.”

“Oh God, I think some wee came out!” Miss Laine said, shaking with laughter, and that made Mum laugh even more.

“I got them mixed up,” I said, feeling a bit stupid.

Millie looked like she wanted to slap me. “I didn’t make it up, Freya,” she said to me in a quiet voice.

***

After dinner, the girls insisted on taking Sadie for a walk through the poppy field, and then showing her the vegetable garden and the wildflower meadow. Then they wanted to watch a movie with her, but I had to explain that Sadie wasn’t just here for them.

They really did love their teacher. My own teacher had been a lunch time alcoholic with bad breath and crooked yellow teeth who used to poke us in the back with a biro, so I suppose the girls were lucky.

Eventually I managed to persuade Freya and Millie that it was time for bed and that no, Sadie wasn’t going to read them a bedtime story because I needed her to drink wine with me.

We sat in the lounge with the French doors open and listened to the sound of crickets chirping out in the fields and the barking of foxes as they emerged from their secret dens for a night’s hunt.

“I think the girls want you to adopt them,” I said as I refilled our wine glasses.

Sadie laughed. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t steal them from their mummy.”

I curled up on the coach. “I’m surprised you don’t have kids of your own. You’d be an amazing mum.”

“I do have kids. Lots and lots of kids,” Sadie said.

“I suppose you do. But don’t you want some babies of your own?”

Sadie raised her glass to her lips and took a mouthful of wine, then closed her eyes and smiled. “Every child that enters my classroom is an empty vessel. I fill them with knowledge and wisdom, nurture them, care for them, put plasters on their knees when they fall over, teach them to be kind and generous to each other, put all my body and soul into preparing them for the world outside.”

She opened her eyes and fixed her gaze on me. “And when each of them walks out of my classroom for the last time, my heart breaks. Again and again and again. And it hurts, it really does. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I was kind of stunned. She’d been my friend for five years but sometimes I felt like there was someone else in there, deep beneath that kooky, easy going exterior. We all have layers, I suppose.

“You’ve just described motherhood,” I said, impressed.

Sadie smiled warmly. “Yep.” She pulled her legs up underneath her and flicked her chestnut hair back. “Now. Did you shag Sarah or not?”

“Wow. Way to kill the mood,” I replied, sarcastically. “And no. I did not.”

“Oh, boring!”

“What are we, fourteen-year-olds? I barely knew her.”

“I saw the way you looked at her,” Sadie said teasingly, wagging a finger at me.

“Oh, you mean the exact same way you looked at her?” I shot back.

Sadie chuckled. “Do you think we’re turning into a couple of horny dykes?”

“I’m not turning into anything, but you’re turning into a right pervy school teacher!”

Sadie drained her glass and slid it across the coffee table towards me. “Pour me more wine, Georgia Newton, or I’ll masturbate at you again!”

I cracked up laughing and poured her another glass, spilling some on the table. I was a little hazy on the number of bottles we’d opened so far that night. “Oops, butterflingers,” I said.

Sadie howled with laughter. “You said ‘flingers’!”

I threw my napkin at her. “Shut up!”

When Sadie finally stopped laughing, she took another swallow of wine. “Is Freya still flashing her unmentionables?” she asked me with a glint in her eye.

How much did I want to tell her? I was a little drunk; probably not in a fit state to edit myself very well. “I found her and Millie in the poppy field, rubbing their girly bits together,” I told my friend and immediately wished I could stuff the words back in my mouth.

Sadie sat there with a hand over her mouth. “Oh dear…”

“Yeah.”

“What did you do?”

“Snuck away before they could see me.”

Sadie had a finger in her mouth as she sat there in rapt attention. “Anything else?”

I drank my wine and stared back at her over the rim of my glass. “Maybe…” I said, finally.

“Tell me,” Sadie insisted in a hushed voice.

“Only if…” I began and then trailed off.

“What?”

Don’t. Just don’t.

“Only if you play with yourself again.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“Right here?”

“Yes.”

Sadie regarded me for a long time. Finally she reached down and took hold of the hem of her long, tight fitting skirt and pulled it up around her waist.

“You’re wearing stockings and suspenders,” I said.

“I know,” she said and placed a hand over the crotch of her lacy panties.

I unbuttoned my trousers and pulled them off. “Do you wear naughty lingerie to school?”

“Sometimes,” she said, lightly caressing herself.

“Why?”

“It makes me feel sexy.”

“It makes you feel sexy?”

“Yes.”

“In front of all the little girls and boys?” I asked and slipped my hand down my knickers.

A pause. But just a short one. “Yes,” Sadie admitted, her own hand disappearing into her panties. “Tell me what else the girls did.”

You shouldn’t tell her. Not really.

“After you masturbated on Zoom…” I began.

“Yes?”

“I crept upstairs and snuck into their room.”

“What did you see?” Sadie asked me, her hand toiling away under her knickers.

“Freya had fallen asleep humping her pillow. Her pajamas and panties were pulled down round her knees.”

“Oh, my word.”

“She had a pair of my dirty knickers clutched to her face.”

“That’s… that’s so naughty,” Sadie groaned.

“Yeah,” I agreed and pushed two fingers inside myself.

“What did you do that time?”

Don’t tell her. You mustn’t.

“I… I did what I’m doing now.”

Sadie frowned, but didn’t stop touching herself. “In their bedroom?”

“Yes. I stood over Freya and masturbated while she slept.”

“Oh, God,” Sadie moaned.

“But that’s not all,” I said as I fingered myself.

“Yes?”

“You won’t tell on me will you, Miss Laine?” I said in a little girl voice.

Sadie smiled at me wickedly. “No, Georgia Newton, I won’t tell on you.”

“I caught them again a few nights later,” I told my friend. “I could see them through a crack in their doorway.”

“What were they doing?”

“I… I don’t know if I should tell you.”

“Tell me. Please,” my friend begged as she played with herself.

“They were licking each other out,” I told her.

“Oh, fuck,” Sadie whimpered.

“Freya was pulling Millie’s arse cheeks open and actually eating her sister out.”

“But they’re so young.”

“I know.”

“Did you rush in there and tell them off?”

“I should have,” I said and spread my legs open.

Sadie stared between my legs. “But you didn’t, did you?”

I shook my head.

“What did you do?”

Don’t.

“I watched them.”

“What else?” Sadie asked me and slung a leg over the arm of the chair she was slouched in.

“I watched them and I masturbated. I stood outside their bedroom door and fingered myself while I watched them lick each other’s pussies.”

“Oh, Georgia, that’s so naughty. So fucking naughty.”

“Potty mouth,” I moaned, my fingers scissoring in and out of my pussy.

“I want to see your cunt,” Sadie told me.

“What if all the little girls and boys heard you talk like that?”

“Show me.”

I slipped my knickers off and dropped them on top of my trousers on the floor, then spread my legs again. “Show me yours now,” I said to Sadie.

“Ask me nicely.”

“Show me your pretty cunt, Miss Laine.”

Sadie lifted her legs up and pulled her panties off. She took a quick sniff of them and then draped them over the arm of the chair. “When I was little, I used to like fingering other girls,” she told me, pulling her feet back up onto the chair and then spreading her knees apart.

“Did you?”

“Yes. The little boys couldn’t get stiffies and they weren’t really interested in naughty games, but us girls liked to experiment on each other. I sometimes think about it when I masturbate, how we used to enjoy putting our hands into each other’s panties.”

I was going to come. “Do you think about it in class? When you’re teaching the children?”

“Oh, Georgia, don’t ask me that. You mustn’t ask me that,” Sadie groaned as her fingers lashed against her clit.

“Do you?” I said, my own fingers pistoning in and out of my cunt.

“Oh, fuck! Georgia!” Sadie hissed and writhed in her chair, her hand pressed tightly against her pussy as it squeezed out her orgasm.

My turn now. Here it comes. “Coming! Sadie, I’m… oh yeah, lick her little pussy!”

Didn’t mean to say that out loud.

I thrust my pelvis up and held my fingers inside as my climax washed over me.

Sadie sat slumped in the chair, arms behind her head and legs still spread wide, her pussy lips inflamed and glistening with juices. She brought a hand down to her cunt again and idly caressed herself, then popped her sticky fingers into her mouth.

I hoped the girls hadn’t heard us having fun.

I glanced up the top of the stairs to the landing, where the last few steps disappeared up to the next floor. I could see a little pair of eyes up there, peering down at us, almost hidden in the darkness.

Millie?

No.

Freya.

She had seen us.

We looked at each other, just briefly, and then she was gone.

This would take some explaining…

On to Chapter Five!

Note from Jetboy: Merry Christmas, dear readers! Here’s a surprise Yuletide gift for you, one that’s been in the works for weeks — a brand new story from lesbian fiction legend Louisa May!

Her name may not mean much to you youngsters, but back in the day, Louisa May posted a series of burn-your-fingers-hot stories at the Nifty Archive (later appearing at Lesbian Lolita) that caused a sensation in our little erotic universe. Readers eagerly devoured her writings and clamored for more. Her many fans included all three founders of Juicy Secrets, your humble servant being one of them.

She posted her last story at Leslita in 2012, then tragically vanished from the world of lesbian erotica. Recently, however, Louisa May discovered Juicy Secrets, and was delighted to realize that her legacy was alive and thriving here. What a thrill it was to see the first comments she left!

She and I began to correspond, and it quickly became clear that she had more to say as an author. This amazing new story is living proof. Welcome back, Louisa May. We are honored to have you here, more than can be expressed in mere words.

 

Note from Louisa May: Hello, my dear, dear readers. I’ve missed you! After years and years away, filling my time on our strange planet with projects whose degrees of importance varied wildly — but busy, always busy… I hit a skid, a patch of Life’s Black Ice… and I came to the realization that if I didn’t take the Time for Myself — I may not have any left! Time, that is…

So… I went looking for my old Soul Companions: the lusty women, and girls, and readers, and characters. I couldn’t find them at the venues I’d frequented in the past: Lesbian Lolita, old Mr. Double (God help him), other places, other dark corner clubs…

And then I came upon Juicy Secrets. Oh my, there’s Cheryl! And JetBoy! Androgyne, Babykeiko…I saw my name in the archives, read some very nice comments — and responded! JetBoy answered. And has been a gem of an editor.

A few readers, Kim and Sue, graciously informed me of dear Cheryl’s recent passing. Oh, Cheryl. We first met through asstr.org; she’d just finished a story called “Little”, and wanted my opinion. Lovely. So hot, and just lovely. As she was.

Finally — I’ll leave this for those who may not know of it: my site on asstr.org. It’s 

https://www.asstr.org/files/Collections/leslita/www/authors/lll.html 

Under ‘Louisa May’, of course.

Have fun!

By Louisa May

I used to keep a diary when I was a girl. For a little over two years; from age nine or so, up until I was eleven. When everything became so very, very difficult for me; when my entire young life seemed just wrapped in turmoil, and I felt so bereft… and alone…

Up until that time, my life seemed the exact opposite: at first, just normal — much playing, much love, toys, games. Both of my parents were professionals, in government work, and spent a good amount of time either at work or at dinners, parties, ‘diplomatic affairs’… so I did spend a lot of time on my own. But I enjoyed it tremendously. I had a very active and fertile imagination, and so my lack of actual ‘friends’ did not seem a problem to me; in fact, I had many, many friends, even though they were, at least the vast majority of them, purely imaginary.

And in that bubble of imagination, I was the star. This was one of the reasons I loved this state of affairs so. I could boss, demand, decree every single one of my imaginary ‘friends’ — and they would acquiesce without a second thought. This contrasted drastically with the few times my mother wangled some kind of ‘play date’ (dreadful term) — and the new ‘friend’ (a real little girl) did not behave correctly, in my severe opinion, at all. Why, she had the nerve to say ‘no’ to me on several unfortunate occasions, which I felt was completely unacceptable. Needless to say, after a few unpleasant trial play dates I was left to enjoy myself… which was what I wanted anyway.

It was around this time that I decided to start writing a diary. It began, as I vaguely recall, with a comment from my mother at the breakfast table about some Queen or Princess or other having written her memoirs, and how it was all the talk of the town. Or country, or whatever. I queried her about the meaning of the word ‘memoir’, and upon learning that it was basically a written record of her life — I immediately determined that I, as one of the most Important Beings on this earth at present, should start writing a record of my own important life without delay. And so I rushed up to my room, got out one of the many girly blank notebooks I’d been gifted over my sparse years, and began writing.

I titled the world’s future treasure tome “My Memoirs” (I had to ask my mother how to spell it. Remember, I was only nine). And I began writing:

First entry: ‘Monday, October 25 — 6 days until my birth day. [I was serious about serious things, and my birthday was, in my mind, very much one of these — so I didn’t play around with exclamation points and smiley faces and the like. I left that to my imaginary friends, who had enough of that kind of enthusiasm for us all] I have desided that my mother is a witch. A very nice witch. But, I think she pretends to be other peple and then goes back to her mommy self. I need to find out how.

And my diary continued on in that fanciful yet serious vein for another year or so, alternating between little-girl curiosity, pomposity and utter fancy.

Until…

Until the day I was told I would be having a babysitter (the term was immediately changed to ‘sitter’ after my highly indignant rejection of the first). Up until then, my mother had employed a ‘housekeeper’, another malleable term, who’d had her own room, and among whose many tasks included, yes, babysitter. That woman had found other employment, and, as my parents now decided to scale down a bit, they hired a young woman, a nineteen-year-old daughter of friends from the ‘Club’, as my part-time babysitter. I was a bit older, my parents were staying in a bit more often (maybe 2-3 times a week instead of one), so Marcia was hired. Marcia Dalloway.

Sunday, June 2 — I have been given a sitter. Or as SHE calls it — a BABYsitter — but I will not have that. Her name is Marcia and my mother says she is the youngest girl of a good frend of theres. Marcia is nice I guess. She wants to read alot but I don’t want her to. So I jump on her and kiss her and pretend she is my very frendly pony. I think shes kind of scared of me. Good! She shoud be!

As the weeks went by, I came to have a very distinct and peculiar relationship to my new ‘sitter’. Marcia was, indeed, somewhat intimidated by me, as I was a handful. Not in the bratty, obstreperous fashion of common young charges, mind you. Instead, I was unusually imaginative, and whereas she had expected to sit comfortably and read while I occupied myself, instead she found herself recruited as an active participant into whatever world I wanted to explore at the moment.

I must admit to myself that, at ten years old, I was intensely curious about sex and womanhood and all its fascinating ins and outs. I was an inveterate ‘peeker’. I loved to spy on whatever struck my fancy, and my fancy was piqued indeed, when, weeks before, I’d been creeping around the bedrooms, and had come upon my mother’s slightly open door one morning.

My father, as usual, had gone off to work, and my mother was, I thought, getting ready to go out. I crept, as was my preferred mode of movement at the time, towards their room, and was intrigued to hear soft cries, sighs… Hmm. Investigation time. I moved to kneel by her open door… and saw my mother, naked on the bed, with a strange object between her legs, which she was pushing into her nonny. That’s what I was told to call it then, God knows why. But there she was, moaning and snuffling, tunneling this thing in and out of her. It looked painful, but fun at the same time. I determined to find out more.

And I did, though not why she was doing what she was doing. That afternoon, I raided my mother’s bedside table, and found not only the very strange object (a toy rocket? In your nonny??), but also a vial of tablets called ‘Addyi’, which purported to ‘treat low sexual desire disorder’. Hmm. So, if you took these, it would make you… what, high sexual desire? Disorder? I really didn’t know. But I thought, better steal some, just in case. Which I did.

Now, as I said, Marcia was a bit intimidated. But not just by me. What I instinctively intuited, at ten, was her compulsive desire to please. Marcia was a girl, a woman, who had very little sense of self worth, I now think, and though she was quite attractive — blond hair parted in the middle to her shoulders; large, wide-set blue, stunned-looking eyes; high, fat cheeks; upturned nose, a bit wide; large lips that were pursed, and chapped, but always ready to smile; a cleft, small chin.

She had a rather large bust, but always seemed to be hunched over as if to hide it; and an unusually well-formed bottom, which she also hid by wearing saggy sweatpants and the like. All in all, and objectively — she was a very attractive young woman.

At ten, I was anything but objective. But I sensed something, some window. And I went for it.

The entry in my diary opens with: June 26 — Marcia gives me a Bath.

Now I, not my ten-year-old diary keeper, will give you the perverse run-down: after a few weeks of holding, and hugging, and kissing, and general constant contact — I wanted to see how far my sitter companion would go… so I thought, why not try what my mother tried — that Addyi stuff that I’d stolen? I was nothing if not willing to experiment. We’d taken to having hot cocoa before bath, so I just crumbled some of that Mom stuff into her cocoa. I thought, I’m a witch too, as I did it.

And I did notice, as the evening progressed, that Marcia had become a bit flushed, and a bit more… confused as to her own responses to my insistent intimacies. At one point, after a bout of playful wrestling on the couch, I found myself lying on top of her. “Marcia,” I panted, “your boobies are so big!” She immediately blushed. “Can I see them? Please?”

And my poor sitter was just at a loss.“Ohh, Sasha, no, I can’t…”

“Please?” And I actually put my little hands on them, over her sweatshirt. “I just want to see.”

Now, I haven’t said it before, but I was a beautiful child — huge eyes, dark and squirrel-like, an angelic face; long, black, lustrous hair; and a precocious little body. So I could imagine how, to someone with Marcia’s predilections, I might be quite the temptation.

And indeed, with the added medicinal boost, she relented. “Well… I guess it’s okay…” She was blushing madly, her blue eyes a bit wild. “But, Sasha, you can’t tell your mom and dad, okay? Right?”

“I know. Yes. Okay.” I had become quite solemn.

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “Ohh-kay…” And she pulled herself up to the end of the couch. “Ready?” I nodded, smiling in anticipation. And she pulled her sweatshirt over her head and presented herself. Her breasts were indeed large, but so were her nipples, and the aureoles around them. As if the nipples and their holders had decided to just take over the breasts themselves. I gasped, and immediately grabbed them with both hands.

“No! No, Sasha, no…” But I would not take No for an answer, and continued to squeeze and knead those fascinatingly soft, fleshy orbs. Her hands caught my wrists, weakly, and held them as I continued to play with her boobies. “Ohh…” was all she could say.

Then I popped back up. “Bath time!” Something in me knew to strike while the Marcia-iron was hot, and I sensed that seeing me naked would even improve the situation. And I ran upstairs.

I had gotten naked, turned on the faucet, and was standing by the tub waiting when she came in. Her look was even wilder, and more confused. She’d put her sweatshirt back on, but was still quite flushed.

I stepped into the tub and stood naked. “Wash me!”

Marcia slowly sat on the stool by the tub. She picked up a washcloth, and began running the wet flannel lightly over my body.

I faced her and deliberately spread myself in front of her face. “You need to wash my nonny.” And I opened my little pussy lips to her. She gasped, then began to lather my thighs. I took her soapy hand in mine and brought it up to my open slit. “Here,” I said, and watched her blush and rub.

It felt very good, very good, to feel her rub at my pussy, my nonny — but I was after bigger game, so after a good few moments, I had a suggestion: “Now I do you!” And my poor Marcia looked at me, thunderstruck — cautious as a mouse, but also, awkwardly conscious of her own desire for little old me.

“Umm… no, Sasha, I can’t–”

“Ohh, come on, I want to! You washed me, so I get to wash you!” I put my big brown innocent eyes to very good use.

I watched her decide. She nodded her head. “Okay,” and again, she started to pull her sweatshirt over her head. And, again, she began, “and remember–”

“Don’t tell my parents, I know, I know…” I was too focused on her, on how, after throwing her sweatshirt to the floor, she pulled those awful sweatpants down. White panties! Just plain old white! How pathetic! I thought. Where is her sense of Style?

“Marcia,” I said, with just a hint of royalty, “we need to get you some nice underpants.”

She looked down sheepishly at her panties and actually blushed. Again. “I know. Sorry.”

I grinned. “So… take them off!” She gasped again, and did what she was told — took them off. And, oh, it was such a brilliant presentation — her sweet juvenile curly pubes, the pink slit beneath…

“Come on, get in,” I commanded — and she did, clumsily, her nakedness as much a hindrance to her as her embarrassment. She stood in the tub. The bathwater came to just below her knees. I looked up at her. She was biting her lower lip, and blushing from her face all the way down to her soft belly.

I had the washcloth. “So… should I wash you..here?” And I rubbed the cloth up and down her thigh. She shuddered. “Aaand… here?” I ran the washcloth upwards, to touch her closed thighs, brushing against her blond pubic hair. She gave a little yelp, and nodded. Then she slowly opened her legs to me. I ran the washcloth down between them.

“Okay… yeah, okay…” Marcia didn’t really know how to deal with this, I could tell even then, but was okay with me taking charge. At ten! But that’s just the little girl I was. I continued to move my hand around, the cloth rubbing against her pussy. I remembered what I’d seen my mother do that morning, so I started rubbing in, more insistently in.

And apparently, this was the way to go, as very soon, Marcia started to act very differently from her usual self — that is, she began to hum, and to moan, and to make the same kinds of noises I’d heard my mother make when I’d spied on her. I think I was doing a good job. And it made me feel good, too. I rubbed harder. “Ohhh, oh my God…” Marcia’s legs began to shake, and she fell, slowly, to kneel in the lukewarm water, and my hand went with her, still rubbing…

And soon, Marcia fell back into the water, away from my hand. She looked spent, shaken. She was panting. She looked up at me, as if she’d just done something awful. She was crying. “Oh, Sasha. I’m so sorry. I’m… I’m sorry..” And she broke down, crying even harder.

I splashed over, little wet, naked me, and hugged her. “Marcia, Marcia, Marcia… shhh… it’s okay… we were just having fun… right?” And she looked up at my angelic ten-year-old face and smiled bravely. “Yes, sweet girl… yes… it’s just… it was fun. Right? Sure.” She accepted my hug.

I thought, We’re okay. She’s pathetic… but we’re okay.

And I knew we were okay when, after our bath, and after our toweling off and ablutions, she came to tuck me into my bed. She was back in her old worn sweat suit, a bit damp. I was dressed only in my favorite Boden pink heart panties. I threw my covers off and patted the bed beside me. She sat, and leaned in to kiss me.

“Marcia.” It stopped her. She immediately blushed. Oh my God, if I only knew how well trained she already was! I slithered out of my fresh panties, and kicked them to the side. Then I spread my thighs. “Nonny wants you to kiss her goodnight, too.” I lifted my hips for emphasis.

She looked hungrily at my pink pudenda, then back up at me. “Sasha…” She said it like she knew it was futile, that she had to do what I wanted, but was begging me to somehow stop it from happening. I only looked at her.

So she lowered her head, and I opened my legs, and oh my… I had no idea what I might discover here, but it was super. I mean, yes, the feeling of her mouth, her breath, then her yearning tongue on my pussy — what an interesting feeling! Yes! But even more than that, what stirred me, what actually gave me a feeling that I could say was close to orgasmic– was how much I knew that this eating of my pussy, this abandonment of all to taste my girly bits, was an acknowledgement that yes, I was most definitely in charge here; that what I wanted was what mattered. I liked that.

***

Soon, in the next few days, and weeks, this status was affirmed. At one point, after we’d had a few glasses of wine (Marcia had subsequently dropped her taboo against allowing me to imbibe), while watching an episode of Animaniacs, I said, “Marcia — could you take off your clothes?”

She looked at me, puzzled. “What?”

“Take off your clothes.” I was lying on the couch in my jammies.

“What? Sasha… I’m not going to take off my clothes!” She looked at me, a bit scared. That’s what I wanted.

I innocently studied the ceiling. “We do stuff, you know… I just think you should take off your clothes.” And I looked at her.

“Sasha… people might see. They might come over…”

“Nobody ever comes over. And my parents won’t be back until late.”

She stood, and swallowed. “I… I just..okay..” And she started unbuttoning the sweater she was wearing. She’d also started blushing like crazy. “Umm..” She looked at me again, then whisked off her top. Such pretty boobs! She glanced at me again. I looked back at her, wide-eyed. She took a deep breath, then shuffled out of her sweatpants. After one last look, and a roll of her eyes, she peeled herself out of her panties. She now stood before me naked.

I looked at her and bit my lip. She started to sit down.

“Wait,” I said. She looked at me. “Can you get me some more of this?” I held out my glass. She huffed, then took it and headed for the kitchen. Oh, I just loved that she was walking naked around my house getting me stuff!

When she came back, she handed me the glass. “Okay?” And she sat on the other end of the couch.

I looked at her. She was naked. And I made her get naked! “Marcia…”

She looked at me and rolled her eyes. “What?”

I looked at her. God, I was such a devil. “Open your legs.”

Her eyes widened. “What?”

“Open up your legs. I want to see your nonny.”

That tell-tale blush blossomed all over her. “Ohh, Sasha…” I continued to stare at her, and eventually she let her knees fall open, and revealed her teen-aged bush; almost that of a full-fledged woman — and her face betrayed her lust. She was breathing heavily now, trying to pretend it was exasperation. But her full-body flush told. “What?”

I scrambled over to her. My ten-year-old jammy body was small before her own lush nudity. “I just wanted to… to taste you here.”

“Ohh… Sash…” She touched the top of my head. “Go ahead, baby…” And she opened herself even further.

I licked. Hmm. Salty. But different. A spicy kind of taste. I licked again. She moaned. I liked this. So I started licking, and licking, then sucking, like I’d seen her do to me, and soon my whole face got into the act, and she was pressing me into her, and I could feel her pulse, and hear her moan and moan…

And I thought, she is so silly. But I fell madly in love with her.

And we continued in this blissful state, kissing, hugging, alternately licking and being licked, and exploring our own newly discovered hearts’ desires, until:

August 10 — Marcia has left me, and gone away to college. And to make things even more weird — we are MOVING to LONDON ENGLAND. So I dont even know what to do now really.

And that was my last diary entry. And, as the girl said — I didn’t even know what to do then, really.

***

It was true, I did not know what to do. I hadn’t realized how very deeply I had fallen in love, until my love had gone. I had thought, in my own ten-year-old, self-centered mind, that my relationship with this ‘Marcia’ sitter person had been all my own doing — my desires, my choices, my inclinations… and, in retrospect, even if that was true — well, it didn’t matter. I was devastated. I missed her enormously. Massively. More than I could understand.

My parents chalked up my morose behavior to being the new kid once again. But I didn’t bounce back, as I usually had. They took me to plays, brought me to museums, even let me attend some of their parties. Nothing. I was bereft. I was even, after a year or so, sent to a therapist who, because I had no intention of revealing to anyone what my real issue was, resorted to what she said was a ‘hypnotic stress-relieving rest interval.” Which mainly consisted of a bunch of useless chatter, me waking up on her couch, then being sent home.

So. What was to be done? I resigned myself to misery. Perhaps if I killed myself, I would come back again as me and be able to relive what I’d lost. Hmm, I thought. Not a guarantee… 

It wasn’t until a week or so after I’d started therapy that I discovered something: while undressing for bed, I noticed — Wait… my Boden panties are inside out — and where’s the bow? Why — they’re backwards, too! Now how would that — And it came to me. The therapist! Dr. Finch! My ‘hypnotic stress-relieving rest intervals’! Ohh… now that’s interesting. I thought of how, before she would usher me to the couch, we’d have tea together. Yes. Very interesting indeed… And I felt myself immediately, if perhaps temporarily, lifted out of my slough of despair. Well… she didn’t know the little girl she was dealing with!

At my next appointment with the good doctor, I sat on the chair and accepted her offer of tea. As we talked (well, she talked, mostly), I studied her. She was, well, old. (At twelve, I hadn’t much basis for comparison; one was either young or old. And in my mind, old pretty much meant over… 30? 25?) But by old, I meant old — why, Dr. Finch had gray hair! Or at least, streaks of it, mostly along the tendrils around her ears, as the rest of it was held up in a schoolmarm bun. She wore glasses, too. But she had a very trim figure, and always dressed very properly, in fine dark suits: jacket, blouse and skirt.

I pretended to drink the tea I’d been offered, then waited for the moment when she would return to her desk to put her notes into a drawer, and then escort me to the couch. The moment she turned, I poured the tea into a potted fern next to me, then handed her the empty cup and followed her to the couch.

Dr. Finch sat behind me, speaking softly, lulling me into what she thought was an innocent sleep. And I let her believe that, eventually letting my eyes close… a light snoring. I even let a bit of drool roll down my chin. Presently, she said, “Sasha?” I heard her voice now, closer. “Sasha?” I continued to snore.

A rustling of her skirt, and then her voice came from right in front of me, a bit louder. “Sasha? Are you awake?” A hand on my skirted hip. I always came from school, and so was wearing my school uniform of skirt and blouse. The hand shook me. “Sasha?” Still I slept. Then… I felt the hem of my skirt being lifted, felt it being draped over my midsection. I felt the cool air of her office on my skin. Then, fingers on the skin of my belly, tucking into the waistband of my panties. It tickled, and I had to concentrate hard on being fully unconscious.

My panties were coming down, down my thighs, my legs; I felt her fumble a bit as my shoes caught. Then they were off. I was naked below my waist. And now hands slid under my calves, my knees, and began to lift my legs up, and outwards. I felt a warmth on my pussy; I let my eyes open just a crack… and it was her breath! Dr. Finch was gazing at my open pussy.

That was when I spoke. “I’m gonna tell on you.” My eyes were open. And the look she gave me behind those glasses… as if she’d just been told she was going to die right at that very moment.

She stumbled up, and back, staring at me. Her hands were up, flailing, as if to ward off a blow. “No, I just — I had to–” She bent to the floor to retrieve my panties, then stood looking down at me, pathetic, holding them in her hands.

I lay there, my bare pussy open to her. “You were doing stuff to me.” She shook her head, mouth hanging open. I nodded. “You took off my underpants, and you were gonna do stuff.”

“No…” She actually held my panties open for me as if to help me put them on. “Please, Sasha…”

I lifted my legs for her and let her slide the panties over my saddle shoes, then up to my thighs. I lifted my hips for her as she completed her task. Weakly, she brushed my skirt down. I watched her.

“Sasha, listen…” She actually paced. “Umm… I was just–”

“Take off your clothes.”

She stopped. “What?”

I looked at her. She had a hand on her pearls, worrying them. Her bun had come a bit undone. “I think you should do what I want you to do.”

She stood staring at me. Her mouth formed a small O.

Dr. Finch’s look reminded me of Marcia’s after our bath night, when I’d asked her to do the same thing. It gave me the same kind of tingly feeling. “I want you to take your clothes off.”

Dr. Finch’s face had flushed, and her eyes were wide, like a scared rabbit. She started nodding, shakily. “A-all right…” She removed her jacket, then unbuttoned her blouse. Her eyes stayed on mine. Each garment she carefully folded and placed on a chair behind her. She took off her ballet flats, then unzipped her skirt and slid out of it. She stood now in her bra and panties. “Please. Sasha.”

“I want to see your boobies. And everything else.”

She gave a pitiful moan, then reached back and undid her bra. Her breasts were small, but quite pointy. Very large dark circles around her nipples, which stuck out like little fingers. She stood for a moment, and I could see her dark eyes tearing up. Then, resigned, she tucked those fingers into the waistband of her panties, looking straight into my eyes. She took a deep breath and slid them down.

“Wait.”

Dr. Finch was startled, her panties at her knees.

“Stop.”

She looked puzzled.

“Leave them there. Stand up straight.” Because, I don’t know why, I just decided I wanted to see her, my eminent doctor, standing with her underpants at her knees, looking at me. It made my nonny feel so good and weird.

She was looking completely at a loss, with her panties hanging at her knees. She seemed so… helpless. So… Marcia.

“Okay, take them all the way off.” She did. “Now… come here.” Looking lost and rather terrified, Dr. Finch shuffled to the foot of my couch. Her bush was more furry and extensive than Marcia’s was. She tried to cover it with her hands. “No, take your hands away, I want to see.” She let her arms fall and stood, again resigned.

I looked up at her. “Okay, now I want to see inside. Sit here and open your legs.” I patted the couch. She took a breath, and I could see she was about to protest. I just raised my eyebrows. So she lowered herself, butt first, then turned and lifted her leg over so she was straddling the couch. Her vulva was open to me.

Leaning in, I touched a fingertip to the plump pussy lip hidden among the hair. She gasped. “Wow…” I murmured. Then I looked at her. “Now… I want you to take off my underpants and kiss my nonny until I say stop.” Her eyes widened. I grinned. “Wasn’t that what you were going to do anyway?”

Dr. Finch uttered a strangled little bark of a laugh. She leaned forward and, rather roughly I thought, pulled off my panties again. I spread my legs wide for her. She looked at me and shook her head, whispering, “Ohh, my God…” then lowered her head and started eating my pussy. It did feel tremendous, and made my pussy very happy. She was very slurpy, making all sorts of rude noises. I especially liked putting my hands on her old-lady hair bun and pressing her into me.

After that revelatory afternoon, we spent many months discovering ways to sexually satisfy each other. Well… to make me satisfied. Which, after a while, included making her satisfied. It was, I was discovering about myself, all about the power I felt over her. And, eventually, that seemed to transfer itself to her — pleasing me made her happy. And in return, I felt pleasure in giving her rewards. Which just sent her to the moon… 

Over the months… and years… I continued as her patient. My parents were quite happy, as I seemed to be growing less depressed. I told them, in so many tactful words, that I did indeed enjoy my time with Dr. Luna Finch, and considered her therapy quite helpful. Which I did, in a way.

We contrived so many ways to please ourselves, a good many of which involved role-playing, wherein, of course, I was the little girl, and she the older woman in authority. Which tickled us both, as we both knew who the real authority figure was — me. Hence, little Princess Sasha is brought before the Queen to be taught etiquette; poor little Sasha is caught shoplifting by a rough security guard; little Sasha, the budding gymnast, is given intimate lessons by her coach. Part of the fun was my peremptory direction of these scenes, especially if I felt she wasn’t performing well — then, well… she needed correction.

These luscious scenarios, and so many more, were brought to liquid life by Luna and me over a span of years; three, to be exact. And they were truly providential, in many ways. For by the natural end of this period — when I recognized my readiness for the next phase of my journey, and dear Luna had, in truth, begun to lose sexual interest in someone who was now exhibiting the traits of actual womanhood — I decided that I wanted to pursue the very same career on which she’d based her life: therapy. Sex therapy, in particular. I thought it was right up my street.

And here I had a ready-made mentor who was more than happy to show me the ropes, as it were, and to guide me. For we had, as the subsequent years progressed, become very good ‘friends’, as much as that common appellation could apply to me, and she was determined to see that I reached my goal.

Which I did, after quite a few more years: a Masters degree, internships, a PhD (Thesis: The Nature and Nurture of Child Sexuality), and clinical positions in various institutions. At twenty-nine, I was a full-fledged Sex Therapist, CST (certified). And quite successful at it. I took a job back in the states, then another. And ended up near where I’d lived as a child. I hung out my shingle and was pleased to get a very enthusiastic response. I had found my niche.

So on a mild morning in October, I was in my usual professional mode when I asked my assistant to give me the list of the day’s new patients. I sat at my desk and perused. Huh, I thought, a Marcia. My mind, almost unconsciously, made note of the name, and I looked her up. Marcia D. Plimpton.

Huh. Marcia D… no, it can’t be. I looked up at the ceiling. Marcia D. Marcia Dalloway. I am in the same area, though… I shook myself, looked back down at the register. No. No. Good lord, no. Then I went on to study the other names on the list.

But at 2:30 PM, after saying goodbye to my 1:00 patient, I heard a knock, said, “Come in,” and she entered. Marcia. The Marcia. She wore pink capris, a mint polo shirt, and a knitted V-neck sweater with a string of pearls around her neck. I sat, transfixed.

“Hi,” she said, modestly. She looked at me. “Umm, are you okay?”

I shook myself. She didn’t recognize me. “Yes, yes, I’m sorry.” I chuckled. “Long day, I apologize. Please,” and I gestured to the couch, “have a seat.”

Marcia smiled. “Thank you,” and sat. She looked at me again, still smiling. “I know,” she added, making herself comfortable. “Me, too. I have had a day.”

“Really.” I took a breath and put a strong-but-understanding smile on my face.

She blushed and pushed her blond hair off her brow. She was the same Marcia, just a little fuller, in face and body. But the same wide-set, stunned blue eyes, plump cheeks and full, chapped lips. “Yeah,” she sighed.

I tilted my head. “So… how can I help?”

She took a deep, calming breath… then another. “Oh, God… I don’t know.” She blushed again. Oh, Marcia, that same blush, from face to neck to…

“This is your safe place, Marcia.” Just saying her name. To her. My whole body vibrated. “Just say it.”

She nodded, looking at me hopefully. “Thank you. Yes. Well, I just… I’m a, I guess you would say, a soccer mom.” She laughed weakly. I didn’t. “So, umm… I have a daughter–”

“How old is she?”

“What? Oh, she’s… she’s eleven… and, umm, well–”

“You’re concerned because you feel attracted to her?”

Marcia’s eyes went wide. Her mouth opened. She tried to speak, but no words came.

I leaned forward. “Do you?”

Marcia took a shaky breath. “How… how did you know?”

I gazed steadily at her. “Hasn’t it happened before?”

Her eyes got even bigger. “Oh, my.” She began shaking her head back and forth. “How, how–”

“Do you know my name, Marcia? What’s my name?”

“What? I don’t — umm… Dr. Laval?

“Yes. And my first name?”

“I don’t, I don’t know–”

“There’s a card on the table in front of you. Pick it up. Read it to me.”

Marcia, confused, saw the card, picked it up and began to read. “Certified Sex Therapy Services, Dr. Sasha Lava–” Her head jerked up. Then she gasped, the card dropping to the floor. She covered her mouth, her eyes huge behind her hand. Finally, she shook her head. “No… it couldn’t — Sasha?”

I smiled, and nodded. “Hello, Marcia.”

She gasped again, and squeaked. “Oh!” She quickly stood, and held out her arms. “Sasha!” I rose, too, and came around my desk. We hugged.

She whispered as we embraced. “Sasha, oh my God, Sasha…”

I hummed affectionately.

She drew back and studied me. “Oh my God… look at you! You’re beautiful!”

I patted her shoulders. “You’re sweet.”

“No, you are!” She stepped back. “Like… movie-star beautiful.” She giggled, wiping a tear away.

“And you still look like you could play a whole soccer match with miles to spare.”

“Ohh…” Marcia waved away the compliment, then took a deep breath. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me, too, Marcia.” I took her arm. “I would love to catch up–”

“Oh, no, I know, it’s your work, it’s–”

“No, I just feel that maybe, if you want, we could have coffee? Just chat. Would you like that?”

Marcia grinned. “Yes, very much. Do you, umm–”

“Tell you what. Let my assistant out there know when is a good time for you, and we can meet. Okay?”

“Absolutely. And, umm, about the session–”

“Oh, don’t worry, we can talk about all that later. All right?”

She looked at me like a happy golden retriever. “Yes! Good!” She hugged me again. “Oh, Sasha…” Then one last confused-but-happy look and Marcia was out the door.

***

So we did make that date for coffee. And another. Then we met at her country club. We were on our second bottle of wine, and she’d begun telling me about her daughter Amy. Not about what she’d come to talk to me about at my office, but about Amy herself.

“She’s just so shy.” Marcia reached for the bottle and poured.

“Well, a lot of girls her age–”

“No, I mean, SHY. Like, she can hardly talk to people, she gets so shy.” She took a swig. “I just feel so bad for her, you know? She just gets, like, paralyzed. Around pretty much anyone. It’s almost like she’s autistic. Well, no, I’ve looked into that. But on the, um, specter, probably.”

“It’s spectrum. As in ‘on the spectrum.’”

“Right, right, the spectrum.” Sip.

I tapped my fingernail on the table. “Hmm. Well, has she ever seen anyone?”

“What, you mean… well, what do you mean?”

“I mean, a therapist?”

Marcia blew out her cheeks. “Umm… no?” She took another swig of wine. “Should she, do you think?”

“Well… I mean, it’s good to have someone to talk to. If she can’t talk to anyone else in her life. You know?”

“Yeah…” She put a hand on mine. “Could you talk to her? Do you think?”

I took a swallow from my own glass. “Well, Marcia, I do have a PhD in child psychology…”

Marcia clumsily hit my hand. “Get out! Really?” I nodded, moving my hand to my lap. “Well, then? Could you? See her, I mean?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule. But I’m sure we can arrange something.” I glanced at my watch. “And I also have to go, my friend.”

“Ohh!” Marcia made a sad face. “Ohh-kaay..” She got up to kiss me, stumbling a bit. She gave me a hug. “Hey!” Holding me out to look at me. “How about… you come over to my house? That would be so cool!”

“All right. When?”

“Umm…” She sat to think. “I know! Mark goes away on a business trip next… Friday? So, how ‘bout then?”

I nodded, smiling. “Sounds good. Call my assistant just to confirm it.”

She buzzed her lips. “Your assistant. Such a big boss lady!” She laughed. “Okay, I will.”

I patted her arm and headed toward the door. “Bye!”

Marcia waved. “See you soon!”

***

She’d had her hair done. It was now quite professionally blown to the sides, and her blond was now even more blond — streaks, tips, feathering, the works.

“Hi, hi, hi!” Marcia wore an aquatic-patterned tunic dress with a simple strand of cultured pearls. “Oh, you look so smart in your dark suit, so… Matrix.” She laughed nervously. “Come in, come in!”

I allowed myself to be ushered through the front door, which she closed behind us. “Well… this is it! Our humble little abode.” Which it was so obviously not. Humble, or little. The place was huge, reeking of high prosperity. “Can I get you something? Some wine? Or…?”

“No, thank you. I’m good.” I spied pictures on the wall. “Your family?”

She laughed. “Yeah, here we are…”

“Aaand… is this Amy here?”

Marcia took a breath. “Yes… yes, that’s Amy, that’s my daughter, yes–”

“She is adorable.”

Marcia laughed again, weakly. “Yes, she is, isn’t she… this was at our place up in New England.”

“How old is she in this one?”

“Amy? Ohh…” Marcia was clearly a bit uncomfortable. “Well, that was about two years ago, so… nine? I think?” She flashed a tight smile, gesturing to all the photos. “So many pictures, my gosh. I know. Silly.” She looked around. “Well, I guess I’ll… here is the living room,” gesturing to our left, “and the dining room, over here…” She was obviously quite nervous. Marcia walked briskly towards the back, and I followed her into a huge, gleaming white kitchen. She turned and smiled, ala Vanna White. She even made the gesture. “The kitchen…”

“Oh, you have a pool.” It shone in the sun, bright and capacious, through the large kitchen window.

“Yes, our pool.” She looked at it, then back at me. “It’s so nice to have that, you know?”

“Nice.” I looked around. “So… Mark, is it? Your husband.” Marcia nodded. “He isn’t here?”

“No, as I said, I think he had to fly out to, oh, where was it… Denver? I think? Anyway, yes, he’ll be gone all week, so… yes.”

“But Amy’s here.”

Marcia seemed to be apologetic and expectant at the same time. “Well, no, actually, Amy had a field trip for her soccer team. It was on our schedule, I just forgot. So… she won’t be back until late tomorrow. Sorry…”

I tilted my head. “You’re all alone here.”

Marcia grinned nervously. “I kind of am, yes…”

“Huh.” I leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen. “I have a request.”

Marcia looked at me, curious. “Oh yes? What?”

“I want you to take off your dress.”

Her eyebrows rose. “What?”

I nodded. “Take off your dress.” I tilted my head. “And it’s not actually a request.”

She stared at me for a moment, then laughed. “Sasha… you are such a hoot. I thought–”

“I mean it, Marcia. Off.”

Now she looked shocked. She took a shaky breath. “Now, wait, Sasha, I can’t–”

“Do I really need to spell it out? Why you need to do what I tell you?”

She looked at me, shaking her head. “But… but Sasha, that was all so long–”

“I was ten.” A long moment of silence.

Marcia took another breath, deeper this time. “Yes… I know… but – but I’m a different person, Sasha. I’m a mother, and a wife… I’m a respected woman in the comm–”

“Ten. Years. Old.”

She looked at me, resigned. “Yes, I know, I… all right.” Her hands shook as they went to the tie at her neck. She undid the bow, then the buttons below. Slowly pulling the material outward, it slid down her shoulders, then fell to her feet.

“Kick it away.”

“It’s Diane Von–”

“Away!” Marcia hurriedly kicked the dress away from her. She stood in her pink bra and panties.

“Nice.” She blushed. I continued to stare at her until she reached behind her back to undo the bra. Her full breasts spilled out. Fuller than I remembered — but she still had those same large, pink nipples. And they were hard. She dropped the bra.

“Lose the sandals.”

She stepped out of them, then looked at me again. “Sasha, please…”

I lifted my chin. She sighed, then pulled her panties down and off. Now she stood before me, her eyes lowered, wearing nothing but her pearls. Her bush was dark blond and trimmed. Landscaped, I would say.

“Let’s go to the dining room.” I said. She looked up, eyes wide. “I’ll follow you.” Hesitantly, she shuffled out of the kitchen. Her creamy white backside was beautiful to watch as she walked in front of me.

The dining room’s main feature was a very long dark wood table covered by an embroidered cloth. At the moment there were just three chairs, all at the other end.

I patted the table. “Lean over, Marcia.”

She began shaking her head. “No, no, I… what are you going to do?”

“Marcia…”

She let out her breath in a huff, but then did as she was told. She carefully leaned over, resting her upper body on the end of the long table. Her hands hung down.

“Hands on the table, above your head.”

She did so. I put a hand on her bare bottom. It flinched. “You’ve always had such an amazing bottom…” I patted a cheek. “But you were always covering it up.” I circled her cheek with my palm. “Cesarean?”

She nodded, adding, “Yes,” in a small voice.

“Mmm-hmm… that’s how you keep this pretty butt so fresh and perky, huh…?” And I gave the cheek a mighty slap!

“Owww! Why’d you do–”

“You left me!”

“No, Sasha, no, no, I had to go to college and–”

SLAP!

“Owww, my God… Sasha! That really hurts!”

“You never even tried to contact me!”

Marcia was sniffling. She wriggled her bottom. “I’m… I know, but I just–”

SLAP!

“Auughh! No, please, Sasha, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” She was crying now. “Please…”

I rubbed her bottom. Hard. Then I trailed my finger down her crack. She tightened her cheeks.

“Let go.” She whimpered, then relented. I slid further until my finger was brushing her asshole. I leaned into her, and put my thumb in her face. “Suck on this, Marcia.”

She turned, looking confused. “Wh-what?”

“Get a lot of spit on it.” I poked her lip with my thumb tip. “The wetter you get it, the easier it’ll go in.”

Her eyes grew wide and she tried to look around at me. I pushed her head down.

“No, please, Sasha, don’t–” I forced my thumb between her lips. I felt her hold it for a moment, then she began to suck, coating it with saliva.

“Good girl..” I withdrew my newly lubed thumb, pressed it to her asshole and pushed. Tight. Corkscrewing. It started to sink in.

Marcia was bucking against me. “Noo! No, please! Oh my God…!” Then I pushed my thumb deep into her rectum. She made a weird, groaning sound. “Ugghh! Ohhgodohgod… uugggghh!” Her anus looked amazing, enveloping my thumb. She was gripping that tablecloth tightly.

I brought my fingers into play. I have large hands — and long fingers. Two of them slid into her nearby pussy. Which needed no lubrication. I leaned in to whisper into her ear. “Ohh, you are so wet! Aren’t you? Your pussy is dripping, Marcia! Isn’t it?”

She was bucking under me, crying and panting, nodding like an epileptic. “Yes! Yes!” I drove a third finger into her hot, oily pussy and started working them. My thumb, too, was now moving in and out.

Marcia was making a lot of noise now. Crying, groaning, squealing… I immediately pulled my hand away, making a slurping sound.

Oh, Marcia was a creamy mess down there. She gave a little squeak, then let out a shaky sigh. She looked around. I gave her bottom a light slap. “Meet me in the living room.” I leaned in. “No clothes.” I walked to the archway, and before I left, said, “And bring me a glass of ice water.”

Such a treat to lean back in the middle of Marcia’s very expensive couch and watch her walk in, cowed, slightly hunched, her treated blond hair all sweaty, naked but for socks and jewelry — bearing a glass of ice water. With a slice of lemon, no less. And a napkin. Such a well-bred girl.

She looked at me with huge eyes, hesitated, then put the glass down on the coffee table in front of me. She stood, then, unsure what to do next. Which was good. But then she moved to cover herself.

“Hands away,” I said, taking a refreshing sip. She let her hands fall and stood, her lower lip quivering. I put the glass down and took a breath. “Now… tell me about your daughter.”

Marcia’s mouth opened and she began shaking her head slowly. “Oh, I don’t, I don’t really think–”

“Marcia.”

Immediately she stopped. “Hm?”

“I am telling you… to talk about your daughter.” She was panting lightly, like a scared rabbit. “Tell me about the first time you found yourself looking at her in a sexual way.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know that–”

I clapped my hands together. And she jumped, with a small cry. “Stop this NOW,” I said, pointing a finger at her. “You answer me truthfully.” She cringed. “Yes?”

“Yes! Yes, I’m sorry, I… yes…”

I looked at her. Pathetic. She sniffled. I shook my head. “All right, Tell you what.” I pointed to a large armchair. “Bring that over here and set it in front of me.”

She looked puzzled, but knew by then to hop when I told her to, so she wrestled the heavy armchair over, then leaned on its back awaiting further instructions. Her breasts were squashed against the velour.

“Good. Now, come around and sit.” She did, perching primly on the edge. “Now lean back and put both legs over the arms, so you’re completely open to me.” She opened her mouth, then closed it and licked her chapped lips. Then she put one foot, then the other, over the arm rests. Her pussy was a bit red from its latest exercise, oozing a bit. I could smell her. Marcia was blushing from face to belly. She could barely look at me.

“Very good.” I leaned back. “Now. While you tell me about the first time you were sexually attracted to Amy, I want you to masturbate.” She groaned quietly. “Yes. Go.”

“Umm… well, I guess–”

“Play with yourself, Marcia. Masturbate. Start now, before you talk.”

She seemed to be shell-shocked. Slowly, she slid her right hand down her leg, gently placing it over her vulva. I nodded. She began to knead the lips of her wet pussy with her fingertips. She sighed.

“Now begin. And remember. Be absolutely truthful, Marcia. I will know. You know that.” She nodded, looking scared. Good.

“Well, umm… it was at our place up north, on the island, and… Amy and I were on the beach. And the thing is, it’s quite a private place, our island, so we do, umm, skinny dip quite a bit. You know, just… being naked on the beach. Feels very free, and just… well, umm, anyway, Mark was working, of course, so it was just Amy and me.” She took a long, shaky breath. I could tell that her masturbating was already affecting her memory of that day.

“Ohh, my…” She cleared her throat. “Anyway, it was just us, and we were down by the water, and I was sitting in my beach chair reading, just lazing, looking out at the water… watching Amy.” She must have hit an especially nice spot, for she arched her back slightly. “Mmmn…” She took a deeper breath. “Okay. Well, the thing is, Amy–”

“How old was she?”

“What? Oh… um, nine. She was nine. Yes… and she was, you know, building a sandcastle right in front of me, and digging this deep moat for it…” Marcia closed her eyes for a moment, and her fingers sank deeper between the folds of her pussy. “Mmm, and, she was naked… and I just… I just could not take my eyes off her body. Her bottom, oh my heavens… ohhh… ohhhh…”

She closed her eyes again, took a few quick, short breaths through her nose, then opened them again and looked at me. “God help me, every time she bent down to dig, her little butthole was just… right there, and I couldn’t… I mean, it felt so… wrong, but I was just so aroused, too. And I found my fingers wandering down to my, my pussy here… and just started touching, barely touching, with just the tip of my finger.”

I watched her pace those orgasmic rushes – letting the waves build, then subside. An accomplished little masturbator, my Marcia. “And when was the next time?”

She looked at me innocently. “Oh, I don’t think–”

“Marcia.”

She nodded, blushing deeply. “I know, I know, yes, I’m sorry.” She petted herself for comfort. “I was just… no, I know. Okay.” She began stroking herself again, more deeply this time. “It was… we were here, actually, watching TV upstairs in my room–”

“Just you and Amy?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mark was… somewhere. So, we were watching… oh, I don’t even remember, some Disney show or other, I should think… and I was lying on the bed, with a book, and watching the show a bit, and… well, all right… Amy had on her sleep outfit — and no matter what jammies I buy her, or nightgown… she just insists that she’s not going to wear anything but her t-shirt and panties. And that’s final!” Marcia giggled, then sighed plaintively. “Ohhh… so… uhh, there she was, lying in front of me on the bed, on her tummy. Her feet were in the air, you know, waving about like girls do… and her t-shirt was bunched up around her middle… Oh, I wanted to bury my face in her cute little bottom! Just… burrow, like a hedgehog! Ooh, ooh, mm, mmm…” She breathed deeply, and looked at me, anxious, but definitely on the brink.

“I can’t wait to meet her. Next.”

“No, there isn’t, that’s–”

“Marcia, what did I say?” She was close to tears. “Really.” I took a sip of ice water and watched her.

So much conflict going on in my little soccer-mom’s body! “Sasha, I… it’s just, so, so… I don’t like to think about it.”

“After this, you won’t.”

“But it’s…” She heaved a huge sigh, ran her index finger down her slit and shuddered. “Well, I… it was just recently, really, the beginning of the summer. And it was late, like eleven or something, and I’d had quite a few glasses of wine–”

“Let me guess. Mark was… out of town?”

She smiled weakly. “How’d you know?” Another finger met the first, and both began to squeeze her slick pussy lips, squeezing and sliding. “Anyway, umm, Amy was asleep. And see, she’s a very heavy sleeper, I mean, nothing can wake her up. It’s hard enough getting her up for school…” Deep sigh. She cleared her throat. “And, I looked in on her… the nightlight was on…” She looked at me, almost defiant by then. Her fingers moved faster. “Okay, I just couldn’t… I pulled down the sheets, and looked at her sleeping, like she always does, on her tummy… and I just, just took hold of her panties and pulled them down. Okay?” She was frigging faster. “And I looked at her beautiful, beautiful bottom, and I started rubbing myself, and I…”

She whispered urgently, “Ohh, ohh, ohhh, God, I’m coming, I’m coming n’ coming…! Oh, ohh, nnnnggg!” And her back arched up, lifting her bottom clear off the chair, as she frigged herself madly. The sound was wonderful, such a wickedly wet, lubricious noise in the midst of all this suburban opulence.

Marcia sat panting on the armchair. Her legs still hung limply over the arms.

I took a sip of water and put the glass down. “I want to meet your daughter.”

Her head came up, her eyes refocused. “Wh-when? I can bring her–”

“No, here. I’d like to meet her here. Monday evening, 5:00 PM.”

“Oh–kaay…” Marcia looked down at herself, smiled. “Could I go and clean up a little? Get some clothes on?” She began to raise her leg from the armrest.

“No. You’re fine right there.”

Her smile froze. “But–” At my steady gaze, she closed her mouth. Her leg remained on the armrest. Her juices oozed onto the chair’s cushion.

“I will meet her, have dinner with you both, then spend the night here.” I stood. “She will have a special session with me at my office on Tuesday at 2:00 PM. You will arrange things with her school. You will also come to the session.”

“Yes, I’ll bring her and wait for–”

“No. I’ll explain it all later, but you should know that I think it would be highly beneficial for you both if you were to view her session. Unseen by her, but there.”

“How would–”

“As I say, I’ll explain. Later.” She nodded dutifully. I kicked off my heels, unbuttoned my pants and pulled them off, showing Marcia my panties. “Boden. Remember?”

Marcia was looking at me, puzzled but nodding. “What are you doing?”

I peeled off the panties, then sat back down and spread my legs. “Come here. I need your pretty mouth down here.”

Her mouth was open, expectant. She swallowed. “Can I…?” She wanted to know the rules, to follow them exactly. Good girl…

“Yes, come around.” I gestured around the coffee table to pat the couch beside me. As she rose from the stained armchair, I turned on the couch and she came to sit on the edge. She looked down at me, at my unreadable face, and my open thighs. I smiled. “Come down here, Marcia. Nonny wants you to kiss her…”

She blushed fiercely, and gasped. I grinned. “How many times have you masturbated to that memory?”

“Oh, my God,” she murmured. She slowly shook her head as she lowered it. “You are… evil.” Her blue eyes gazed up as she opened her mouth to taste me. She licked. “Mmm… I don’t remember all this hair…” She licked again. “Oh, my God, you’re so gorgeous…” Then she opened her mouth and covered my vulva with it. I felt her tongue enter me and run lazily up and down. She sucked greedily at my labia.

“Mmm, you still do this wonderfully,” I murmured. I pulled her head into me while she noisily slurped and sucked. And I felt the delicious sensations build; my orgasm on its way. “Ohhhh, good girl, Marcia. Good girl…”

On to Part Two!

by Joe Dornish

I once went on an outing with the girl guides to a theme park. When we got there, we were split up into groups of four and set free to explore the place. At the end of the day when we all met up there was a fantastic melee of young girls, all high on adrenaline and sugar and desperate to share their day’s adventures with everyone. That’s what breakfast was like the morning after our sex party.

The day began when Mia and I both woke up in a naughty mood and decided some pre-breakfast sex was in order. I was perched on her face and she was nibbling my clit when the door opened and Mum stood there, completely naked. She watched us for a few seconds, then winked and blew me a kiss, leaving the door open as she left. I don’t think Mia even noticed. Some of the others passed by and paused in the doorway as we fucked, but by then I wasn’t really paying attention.

I had a lovely orgasm, then rolled Mia onto her back and buried my face between her legs, licking her until she came. Then we snuggled together, sharing kisses and words of love.

Our urges satisfied, Mia and I washed and dressed, then went down to breakfast. Everyone was there fully clothed except Mum, who was wearing nothing but her apron and fluffy white slippers while she cooked a full English breakfast. The smell of bacon was driving us mad as we sat down.

Nobody commented on the fact Mum was basically naked; why would they? That sort of relaxed attitude about nudity and sex was really beginning to appeal to me. I’d have loved to swap places with Mum right then, with me being the only naked person in the room. And she was enjoying being looked at, too. I could tell by the look on her face and the way she was flirting with all of us.

Everyone was in a great mood, especially Lilly and Evie, who were both buzzing after their lustful night with their mums. Lilly told us about how they began by explaining stuff, then the girls had sex while their mums masturbated each other, then Evie and Lilly got to watch the adults fuck. There was a lot to tell, but suffice to say that the four of them had a lot of sex together. A ‘little orgy’ Nicole called it.

I was surprised to hear that Henri and Lottie didn’t have sex again after they went to bed. Like Mia and me, they stayed up talking then fell asleep. I meant to ask them if they did anything after waking up, like we did, but never got around to it. Our mums couldn’t stop smiling at us and saying embarrassing things like ‘Ah, young love’.

When we’d eaten and cleared the breakfast things away, everyone drifted into the lounge, while Mum went upstairs to get dressed. Deciding to follow her, I caught my mother just before she got in the shower.

“Um, Mum.”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“What are we doing today? Hanging around here and then going to Kiki’s?”

She laughed. “Well, this makes a change. For once, I think I’m a step ahead of you.”

“Eh? I don’t follow.”

“You were about to ask me if there was any way you could spend more time with Mia today… and maybe even bring her to Kiki’s.”

I was absolutely blinkered. “How do you do that? You’re… you’re like some kind of sexy naked witch-lady who can read minds!”

“Ha! It’s called motherhood,” Mum said, then she kissed me. “I was certain that you’d want to spend more time with Mia today, sweetie… I’m just surprised you didn’t ask me sooner.” She gave a happy sigh. “I’d say that your party has been a complete and utter success. Henri and Lottie are getting on famously, and I’m head over heels for Evie. My God, that child has the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted.” She stared into space for a moment, then returned to me with a quick shake of her head. “Anyway, I was thinking that it would be a great idea if we invited Nicole and her girls to spend the day with us at Kiki’s.”

“Really?” I gasped. “Oh, wow, that is a great idea! Um, so what did Kiki say?”

“Let me put it this way,”  Mum said, taking my hand. “She’s coming over about elevenish, then we’ll tell the others… but keep it to yourself until then, it’s meant to be a surprise.”

“Oh, Mummy, you’re amazing!” I threw my arms around Mum’s waist and kissed her, long and deep.

Her tongue danced with mine for a bit, then she put on a posh voice and said, “Oh… one does one’s best.”

“I promise I won’t say anything. Um, there was something else I wanted to ask, though.”

“Sure, sweetie. Can we talk while I shower?”

“Yeah, okay.”

We went into the bathroom and I sat on the toilet while she showered. She left the cubicle door open so we could talk, so I also got to watch Mum soap up her beautiful body. To tell the truth, I was thinking of getting undressed and joining her beneath the flowing water.

“So what did you want to ask me?”

“I’m curious about something. Y’know when you watched me fucking Mia, right before breakfast?” It still felt a bit weird, swearing in front of my mother.

“Uh-huh.” She was rubbing soap into her tits. It was incredibly distracting.

“I liked that.”

“Me watching you?”

“Yeah, but not just you… the others watched me, too.”

“So you like the idea of being looked at when you’re naked, or doing sexy things?”

“Wellll… I wouldn’t want boys to see me with my clothes off. Or men, either. Yuck!” I made a face.

Mum nodded thoughtfully. “Girls and women, though — you really like the idea of, of putting yourself on display for them, eh?”

“Uh-huh. This morning at breakfast, you were nearly naked and we were all dressed, and that got me so turned on I wanted to scream. I know it’s silly, ‘cause I’ve seen you in the nude loads of times, but something about today… I thought it was really, um, erotic? Is that the right word?”

“Yes, sweetie, erotic is exactly the right word.” Mum was washing between her legs, fingers fiddling with her pussy. By then, distracting had become a complete understatement. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I wanted to be touching my mother down there.

Instead, I said, “I got all wet just imagining it was me there in the kitchen, wearing nothing but an apron, and everyone was watching while I made breakfast.”

“The apple never falls far from the tree,” she said, reaching for the shampoo bottle and squirting some into her hand. When she began to work the soap into her hair, Mum’s breasts were bouncing in a very nice way. I was really tempted to take off all my clothes and get in there with her.

“The apple… huh? What’s that mean?”

“It means that you’re just like me, Poppy. You know, I got a big thrill making breakfast naked. And if you feel the same, it means that you’re probably an exhibitionist. Well, so am I. Even now, you watching me shower makes me feel very excited.”

“Exhibitionist? Hmm, okay, got it. And Mum… I’m getting excited, too. You’re turning me on big time!”

“Thank you, sweetie,” Mum took the showerhead down from its holder and started rinsing the soap away. “We can talk more about this later, but I promise to look for ways that you can explore this side of your sexuality — but in a safe way. Better a good opportunity missed than a disaster embraced.”

“I think I understand. Is that like ‘better safe than sorry?”

“That’s it exactly. You’re such a clever girl.” I beamed at the praise from my mother. She replaced the showerhead, then paused, a glimmer of thought in her eyes. “Actually, sweetie… I just had a very interesting idea about how you can find out what it’s like to be an exhibitionist.” She gave me a wicked smile that had my heart racing. “Are you feeling adventurous, sweetie?”

Whatever Mum’s idea was, I had to run with it. Had to. “Yes, Mum… gosh, I’m excited already, and I don’t even know why!”

“Oh, you will, sweetheart,” she said, still wearing that smile. “You will.”

***

We hung around the house after breakfast, watching telly and relaxing. I couldn’t pay much attention to what was on the screen, though — too distracted thinking about Mum’s plan. I only had a rough notion of what she wanted me to do. She’d only given me enough details that I could make my own mind up whether to do it or not. As if I would ever tell her no!

Whatever risk there was, I felt safe taking it, because I trusted my mother completely. All I knew was that she was setting up something where I would be nude while everyone else was dressed. I didn’t even know when it was going to happen. “It might not even be today,” she told me with a wink.

Kiki arrived just after eleven, looking as glamourous as ever and smelling wonderful. She was wearing a short black pleated skirt with calf-length black spiked heel boots. On top, she had a thick knit grey woollen jumper with a big floppy collar. Her lovely blonde hair was down and tied back in a ponytail.

She breezed through the house greeting people, with kisses and hugs. It was the first time she’d met Nicole or her daughters, so the introductions and small talk took a while. I loved watching Kiki interact with people. She has an effortless charm that is impossible to resist, and within minutes she had the whole house captivated.

Once everyone had met, the adults had a cup of tea in the kitchen while we watched a Disney DVD on the telly, one that Lilly had picked out. I still couldn’t concentrate, though.

Half an hour or so later, the adults came into the living room. There was not much room to sit down, so Mum and Nicole each sat on an arm of the sofa, leaving Kiki standing.

“Erm… do you want to sit down, Kiki?” I asked, standing up.

Her smile made my heart race. “Thank you, sweet child, but I’m perfectly fine right here. I want to ask you all something.”

I sat back down and waited for Kiki to speak, fairly certain I knew what she was going to say. When the room fell silent, Kiki began in her lovely posh accent.

“Ladies, your mothers and I have been plotting over tea and cake, and we had a marvellous idea. Why don’t we all spend the day together at my house? We’ve got a pool, there’s a lovely lunch and dinner planned and if you like, you can stay over for the night. How does that sound?”

The room exploded into shouts of “Yes!” and “Brilliant!” Most of the girls had never been to Kiki’s house, but I’d told them all how amazing it was when we were chatting the night before. Evie and Lilly looked especially pleased, and gave each other a big hug at the news that they’d get to spend another whole day and night together. Those two were joined at the hip now and usually hand in hand. Even though they were only seven, just a look was enough to tell you that these little girls were deeply in love. It was the cutest thing ever.

Seeing them made me want to kiss Mia, so I reached across and surprised her with a quick peck. She kissed me back, giggling with delight. I was thrilled, too — I hadn’t expected Kiki to invite everyone to stay overnight, I figured that Nicole and her kids would just spend the day with us and that would be it.

When we finally settled down, Evie, as little kids do, said what was on her mind. “Mummy… is Kiki a special friend?”

Nicole looked at Kiki and smiled, then turned to her little girl, “Yes, angel. Kiki and Henri are special friends.”

Evie started clapping and bouncing in her seat. “Goody!”

Reaching out, Kiki placed a hand on Evie’s arm. “I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, my darling,” she said. “You are simply adorable.”

I was starting to understand that when adults say things, lots of times there’s more to it than their words made you think. A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t have thought anything of what Kiki just said to Evie. But right then, I knew what she really meant — that she wanted to fuck this beautiful little seven-year-old girl. I could feel my knickers getting wet all over again, just picturing it.

After a little more chatter, Kiki suggested we leave for her place so she could get an early start on lunch. We all got up to get our coats and stuff, then Mum said, “Erm, before we leave, there is one more thing I’d like to do.” She was looking at me.

Everyone paused, waiting to hear what Mum had to say. I was waiting, too. What was she up to?

“Poppy and I spoke about something earlier…” Mum began, grinning at me when she read the look on my face, knowing that I’d worked out what she wanted to do. My heart went straight into overdrive and I could feel my face getting hot.

Mum extended a hand to me. “Poppy, sweetie, come stand here next to me.”

Putting one foot in front of another, I slowly moved toward Mum until I was beside her, standing at the end of the room where everyone could see us. I felt embarrassed but really excited at the same time. Mum whispered to me, “Are you okay with this?” I gave a quick nod.

“Would you mind indulging us for a moment?” Mum said aloud to the whole room.

There were lots of confused looks, but everyone was keen to see what Mummy was about to do.

She turned back to me. “Now then, Poppy, why don’t you go ahead and take your clothes off for us, there’s a good girl.”

Kiki spoke up. “Whatever this is, Heather, let me just say that I approve of it.”

“So do I,” said Nicole.

Silence fell on the room as I began to undress. One by one, my pieces of clothing dropped to the floor. It was awkward at first, but I could tell that everyone really wanted to see me naked, and that made it a lot of fun. I’m stripping, I told myself. I’m stripping for a roomful of sexy lesbians. How hot is that?

Finally, I slowly worked my panties down, flipped them away with my foot and stood there naked while everyone had a good long look at me. I noticed Lilly reaching down for my damp knickers, picking them up and pressing them over her nose and mouth, then taking a long, deep breath. What a sight that was, my seven-year-old little sister smelling my pussy and loving it.

That really had me going, but I nearly came where I stood when Mum reached across and cupped my tittie, moving her hand around in circles to tease the nipple. “You know, I think they’ve grown a little,” she said to nobody in particular.

I didn’t know what to say, so I just kept quiet. I didn’t want to do anything that might make her stop.

“I think they’re lovely as they are,” said Nicole.

Kiki came over and ran her hand over my bum. “Me, I love this cute little bottom the best,”  she said. “It’s just scrumptious.”

For the next couple of minutes I stood quietly while the grownups checked out and discussed my body. They would fondle and caress me and say stuff like, ‘Ooh, touch her here,’ then I’d feel a hand exploring me. Nicole even stroked my pussy and remarked on how wet it was. The girls were watching this, some of them touching themselves, or each other. By then I was so wet that I could feel it oozing down my legs.

I was starting to wonder if we were about to start another big sex party right then and there instead of leaving for Kiki’s place, but then Mum stepped away and announced, “Right then, time to go. Poppy, you’ll be riding with me.”

Like I said, I’d already figured out Mum’s plan, but it still shocked me. “What, like this?”

Mum laughed. “Not quite like that, you’d better put your boots back on.”

Everyone else laughed too, but I found myself feeling a bit panicky. Was Mum really going to take me to Kiki’s completely naked? Okay, I’d told my mother that I liked the idea of being the only one naked around other women and girls, but I didn’t expect to be taking things this far, this soon.

On the other hand, I wasn’t going to let the others see me being scared. I put my ankle boots on, then stood by the door squeezing Mum’s hand.

Mum wasn’t fooled by the brave face I put on. Knowing how nervous I felt, she did her best to soothe me. “Poppy, I’ve got everything we need in the bag, and I’ll keep your coat to hand. If anything happens, just put it on quickly and do it up. It’s a bit cold out, but I’ve already warmed the car up for you. Henri and Lottie are going to let us know when the coast is clear, then you can go and get in the car. Okay?”

I was trembling inside, but managed a smile. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m a little scared, yeah… but I trust you, Mum. And my pussy is wet — that’s a good sign, right?”

“Ha ha, yeah, it is a good sign.”

Everyone was gathered in the hallway listening to all this. Henri said, “Well, you’re making me wet, Poppy. God, you are so fucking sexy.” Then she gave me a deep, passionate kiss, fondling my bare bum while we embraced. When she finished, the others all offered words of encouragement.

Lilly looked a bit worried, though. “Are you really going out like that, with no clothes on?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

It was Mum who answered. “Because it will give her a thrill, honey. You see, Poppy likes the idea of being naked in public… and this is a safe way for her to try it, with us here to help her.”

Lilly gave a firm nod. “Well, I want to help her. What can I do?”

“Um, well, you and Evie have a very important job. You have to carry Poppy’s coat, and ride in the back of the car with her. If something happens, you two help her get into her coat and covered up.”

“We can do that!” said Evie.

Lilly took my coat from Mum, then turned to Evie, “You want to be the one to hold it?”

“Let’s hold it together,” Evie said, gazing at my sister with adoring eyes.

They both took hold of the coat each and stood ready, suddenly aware that everyone was watching them.

“What?” asked Lilly.

Mum laughed. “Nothing, you two are just adorable, that’s all. Right, shall we go?”

Evie and Lilly stayed with me, as did Kiki, who had the keys to lock up. Nicole and Mum got into their cars and started them up while Henri and Lottie stood at the end of the drive to see if any of the neighbours were about. We’ve got a driveway for two cars, but Mum’s was out on the road. I’d have to walk thirty feet or so to get to the car, and it was cold outside!

When I saw Lottie waving at me that the coast was clear, I walked to the car. I was tempted to run but I didn’t want to fall over. Besides, I was enjoying it. Somehow, the excitement I felt drove my fears away as I strode confidently down the driveway, completely starkers but for my boots.

The cold was horrible, but other than that the short walk from my house to the car was utterly thrilling. The car was lovely and warm, and as we set off Lilly remembered the job Mum had given her. She said to me, “Are you okay?”

Feeling a sudden surge of love for my little sister, I gave her a brief but very hot tongue kiss, then turned to Evie and gave her one, too. Their little mouths were so sweet that I was tempted to make love to them both right there in the back seat, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. Instead, I smiled and said, “Thank you both for your help. It was a lot easier, knowing you were there with me.” That wasn’t exactly true, but it made them happy so I figured it was okay.

The trip to Kiki’s only took ten minutes. Her driveway is hidden from the road, so I had no problem walking the few steps to the house. It was Mia and her family’s first time there, so Kiki and Henri took them on the same tour I got. By the time it ended in the pool room with the glass walls opening and closing, Nicole and the girls were just as gobsmacked as I was when I first saw it.

I’d got used to being naked by then, but loved the way everyone would look at me now and then. I’d spy someone glancing between my legs or staring at my boobies. I liked it, just the way I’d hoped. Being naked while everyone else was dressed made me feel warm, fuzzy and very aroused – so much that I was getting more and more interested in the others taking their clothes off!

As you can imagine, all the girls wanted to jump straight in the pool, but our mums made us wait until after we’d eaten. We went into the big main room, with Mia and me on one sofa and Henri and Lottie on the other. The adults were in the kitchen, sitting around the island while Kiki got lunch ready. I noticed that Mum had Evie on her lap, while Lilly nestled in Nicole’s lap. Both girls looked happy to be getting cuddles; they were probably being fondled, too.

Mia chatted for a bit, then we started kissing. Since I was still naked, that meant that Mia had easy access to me, and it wasn’t long before her hand slipped between my legs. I shifted to get more comfortable, noticing that Henri and Lottie were also kissing.

I sat back and relaxed while Mia kissed my neck, then my nipples while she was masturbating me. I got close to coming when she suddenly stopped.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

She glanced toward the kitchen. “Um… this is okay for us to do, isn’t it?”

“Of course it is. Watch…” Sitting up a bit, I shouted, “Hey, Mum? Is it okay if Mia and me fuck?”

Everyone burst out laughing, and Mia went bright red. “I can’t believe you said that!” she groaned, snatching up a throw pillow to cover her face.

It was Kiki who answered. “Poppy, darling… in this house, the answer to that question is always yes.”

More laughter, then Kiki continued. “Honestly, it’s okay. You girls can make love wherever and whenever you like. If you’d rather be alone, you can use one of the bedrooms, including my room. I’d be delighted to go to bed later and find my sheets perfumed with the scent of young girls’ pussies.” That got a few laughs, along with a cheer or two.

I regretted shouting out like that. Mia was clearly embarrassed, and I didn’t intend to upset her. She was fine, though – Kiki had picked up on those awkward feelings, and her softly spoken words were just what Mia needed to hear.

I was coming to love Kiki and Henri a whole heck of a lot. It was sisterly love, though, not romantic like what I felt with Mia. Well, when I say sisterly, I mean sisters that I have sex with, of course. Then again, maybe I did love them all in a romantic way, even Mum and Lilly… or was that mostly lust? It was a confusing mix of feelings… but all good ones, so I didn’t see it as much of a problem.

“I hate to be a party pooper, but lunch is ready… so fun and games will have to wait,” said Mum, and we got up and made our way to the dining table.

On to Chapter Thirteen!

Edited by Jacqueline Jillinghoff — an amazing job.

by Kinkys_sis

For a few weeks now I’d been noticing this girl. Okay, so I notice lots of girls, but this one had something that got me looking a bit more often.

Really, she was too young for me, because, I guessed—she was only ten or eleven. So why was I drawn to her? It wasn’t as if she was beautiful, although she was certainly pretty. Maybe it was that lovely black hair or those eyes? Yes, I loved her eyes. Then again, it could just be that she was Asian and I was discovering that I was getting a thing about non-white girls.

Of course, her shyness showed a mile away. She had friends, but they mostly seemed the quieter girls, nothing like the noisy bunch I hung out with.

Even Tess noticed. “Hey, Bee,” she said, “you perving on some little girl? I didn’t think you liked them that young?”

“Well, she’s kinda cute. Got any idea what her name is?”

“Course not. Why would I?”

After a few more days, I saw that she walked home after school unless it was pouring with rain. Then she took the bus. It was the same bus I would have taken if I could, but I hardly ever take the bus. I can’t afford it.

Then, guess what? The heavens opened on Thursday. I saw her standing waiting for the bus under a small umbrella. I watched the swish of her skirt as she climbed on, and I thought, God I hope she goes upstairs. It was my lucky day, She did, and I was right behind her.

I just got a brief glimpse of her panties before her hand came around and held her skirt close to her legs. Fuck!

I followed her towards the front. She seemed surprised when I sat down next to her. There were plenty of empty seats on the bus.

“You don’t mind if I sit with you?” I said. “I’ve seen you at school, so I thought I might keep you company.”

She looked confused and nervous, kinda at a loss for words. She just shook her head.

“My name’s Bee,” I said. What’s yours?”

For a second, I thought she was going to cry, but then she said, “I know who you are. Everyone does, because you’re the school hero.” She trailed off, sorta like she thought she’d said too much.

“You still didn’t tell me your name, though,” I said.

She mumbled something which I didn’t catch, then took a deep breath and repeated it so I could hear this time. “Evelyn, that’s my name.”

“Hey, that’s a nice name. I like that.”

Now she looked at me for the first time. “You do?” She paused to consider. “It’s odd though. Why are you bothering with me? I’m nobody and way below you in school.”

I didn’t want to frighten her, but clumsy me, I put my foot straight in it. “Coz I think you’re kinda cute, that’s why.”

I’ve heard that you can’t tell when Asians blush, but Evelyn was clearly blushing. Now she did look really nervous.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m only joking,” I told her.

I chatted on about any old nonsense. She hardly ever spoke but I could tell she was interested in most of what I said.

She interrupted me mid-sentence. “I have to get off at the next stop,” she said. Then she blurted out in a rush, “Thank you for talking to me. That was nice.” Then she hurried away. I saw her glance up as she walked away from the bus, so I gave her a wave. She sorta fluttered a hand in reply.

My own stop was only one after hers, so we lived pretty close to each other. I’d enjoyed talking to her, although she was painfully shy. I’d have to work on that.

***

I saw Evelyn across the playground. I knew she was pretending she wasn’t looking. I gave her a little wave, nothing too obvious, but I saw her smile before she turned to answer something one of her friends had said.

Later, I passed her in the hallway. “See you at four, if you like?” I said as I went by. I was rewarded with another little smile.

Yesterday, it had poured rain, but today couldn’t have been nicer, warm and sunny. It was a beautiful day.

She was waiting by the gate when I got there.

“Hey Evelyn,” I said. “You good?”

Another quick smile. “Yes, thank you, Bee. I was surprised when you asked to see me again, I really didn’t expect that.”

“You didn’t mind, did you?”

“Oh no, I’m glad that you did.”

“Shall we walk through the reserve? Do you know that way?”

“No, I didn’t know there was a way home through there, but I’d love to.”

The reserve was one of my favourite places, I often went running there and I knew nearly every nook and cranny. There were some heavily wooded places. Other parts were open and grassy. The whole reserve was crisscrossed with a network of footpaths.

I was delighted to see how enthralled Evelyn was. Even her shyness seemed to melt away. But then I saw she was getting agitated. She was clutching her bag tighter. Was it something I said?

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I… I have to go,” she stammered out.

“Go? Go where?”

“No, not go somewhere, I mean that I have to… you know, go.”

I suddenly realised what she meant. “Oh, is that all? You want a pee.”

She stopped walking and pressed a hand at the front of her skirt. I could see that she was on the verge of tears. “Evelyn, it’s not a problem,” I said. “Look, just go behind that bush over there. There’s no one about, and I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

For a moment, she looked horrified, but then she scuttled off. Why do girls always face away from you when they pee? Don’t they realise it’s actually sexier to see from behind? Anyway, I could see her through the bottom of the bush. I saw her frantically drag her little white panties down and then do a squat.

My eyes were glued on the most lovely little ass. I could even see her little hole winking at me. Then she peed. OMG, she must have been desperate. It gushed out with a massive force. It seemed to go on forever.

I saw her hesitate when she’d finished. Of course, there wasn’t any paper. I walked around the bush and passed her a hanky. “Here, use this.”

She took it from my hand but waited. “Oh, okay, sorry,” I said. Then I turned away.

She came back alongside me, holding the hanky. “What shall I do with this? It’s a bit wet, I’m sorry.” I took it from her. “Careful, it’s got my… pee on it.”

“I know and it’s still warm, thank you.” Instantly, I realised that I shouldn’t have said that. It would only shock her.

But she just gave me a puzzled look, then shrugged.

We carried on along the path until we got to the river. “I often sit here,” I said, pointing up to the parapet. “Shall we sit for a bit?”

“But I can’t get up there,” Evelyn said.

“Not a problem,” I said. I grabbed her by her hips and lifted her up and plonked her down. I hadn’t planned for it to happen, but naturally, it put her knees up level with my eyes. I could see her panties.

She saw me looking. A hand dived to press her skirt, so I couldn’t see anymore. I heaved myself up and sat next to her.

She was looking about. “I’m glad you brought me this way. It’s really lovely,” she said. She turned and looked at me, “Are we friends? Not at school, I know that would be awkward for you, but I mean like now.”

“Oh, I hope so. I like being with you.”

She frowned. “But I don’t really understand why you’d want to be with me. I’m only a little kid.”

I took hold of her hand. “Don’t put yourself down, I like you and I enjoy being with you. Isn’t that answer enough?”

She glanced down at our hands. I was loving the feel of her slim fingers, and she didn’t pull away. Instead, she simply said, “I’m pleased you do.” Then she squeezed my fingers. “You’re nice. They said you were.”

“Oh I see, you’ve been talking about me.”

She looked embarrassed, but then she saw I was grinning. “Only a little. I wanted to know more about you, that’s all.”

“And what have you learned? All good, I hope?”

She was thinking how to answer me, I saw it was making her nervous again. “I s’pose.” she finally said.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean? Somebody said something bad?”

“You know when you called me ‘cute’ — well, it’s sort of what they said. They said you liked girls.”

She was still holding my hand. “And yet you still came to meet me,” I said. “So it didn’t worry you, what they said?”

“Yes, it did worry me, but I still wanted to see you. I don’t really know why except I knew I liked you.” She hesitated for a moment, but then; “I know you were watching me pee but I had to go so badly I couldn’t stop you. And I know you like looking up my skirt.” She actually looked straight at me for a change.

“Even after all that, you’re still holding my hand.” I said.

“Yes I am. It feels nice.”

“So I guess I haven’t frightened you?” I asked.

“No, I’m not frightened, but I am nervous.”

I was surprised by how this was going. “So if I put my arm around your shoulder you wouldn’t freak out?”

“N… no, I wouldn’t.”

So I did just that, and then pulled her a little closer. Her head rested against me, and suddenly, everything felt wonderful.

We just sat there. I was content to be holding her — well, for now anyway. Then I realised, she ought to be getting home before her parents got worried. Reluctantly, I took my arm away and dropped back to the ground. I turned around and reached up for her, and she almost fell down into my arms. I fought my natural urge. It seemed like it might be easy, but I wanted to take my time. Even so, I leaned in and gave her just a quick peck on the lips.

Once again, I took hold of her hand. “Come on,” I said. Let’s get you home.”

A bit later she pointed to a house. “That’s where I live.”

“Evelyn, are you free tomorrow? Can you… would you like to come ‘round mine?”

A lovely smile lit up her face. “Oh Bee, I’d love to.” Then she really surprised me by reaching up and just brushing her lips on mine.

I got my wits back together. “Okay, so if I call for you at eleven, would that be okay?”

“Oh yes, that would be lovely.” Then she was gone, almost skipping up to her front door.

I walked the rest of the way home thinking about how she had almost kissed me. Shit, I felt good, and I could feel my knickers squelching, they were so wet. What had I let this girl do to me?

That night, I fucked my pussy hard. Pictures flickered through my mind the whole time — her little ass as she peed, her white panties, and the brief touch of her lips. I came harder than I had for ages.

***

I rang the doorbell, and there she was. Shit, she looked gorgeous, in a short, colourful button-up dress. Her smile melted my heart. Fuck, I was losing myself to this girl.

“Are you just going to stare at me, or should we go?”

I shook myself hard. “It’s just that you look so lovely in that dress,” I said. Sorry. Yes, let’s go.” She looked pleased with my comment. She reached for my hand, then fell into step beside me.

It didn’t take very long to get to my house. “It looks nice,” she said as we walked through the front garden.

She followed me inside. “Can I get you anything, a drink or something?” I said.

“No thank you, Bee, not just yet.” She was busy looking around. I stood behind her and rested my hands on her shoulders. She leaned back against me. “Are you going to kiss me now? I can tell it’s what you want, but I’ve never been kissed, Bee, and I’m a bit scared.”

I turned her around and lifted her face with a finger under her chin. “There’s no need to be scared. I would never do anything to upset you. Would you mind if I kissed you?”

She shook her head. but my lips were already on the way to hers. I drew her body close with one hand behind her back, the other still holding her chin. Then our lips met. Oh my God. I’ve kissed a load of girls and even a few older ladies, but I’d never felt like this. It wasn’t so much the kiss. She wasn’t kissing me back. It was just such a thrill having her in my arms.

I pulled away and looked into her eyes. “There. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

She looked down for a moment, clearly flustered, but then her eyes came back to mine. “It was… well, nice, but I told you I was hopeless. I’m sorry.”

Now I grinned. “Evelyn, it was lovely. You’re not hopeless at all. You just need to relax and try to actually kiss me. Shall we do it again?”

This time, her lips began to move. I had both of my arms around her, then I felt hers come around my waist, her little hands gripping me tightly. I kept firm control of myself and just enjoyed the kiss without putting too much passion into it.

I broke the kiss but only pulled back a tiny bit. Our nose-tips were still touching. “You okay?”

She smiled and nodded, then said, “Yes, I am. Was that better?”

“Oh, my lovely girl, that was wonderful. Thank you so much.”

“I can’t believe you’re thanking me, and I still don’t understand what you see in me.”

“Would you believe it’s nearly three weeks since I first noticed you? I knew straight away I wanted to know you, but I never dreamed that you’d be here in my arms. And now you are and I’m so happy.”

She often frowned, and she did again now. “Really? I didn’t think I’d ever let a girl kiss me, but I wanted you to. I don’t know why. It did frighten me when the others told me about you, but something still made me want to see you.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Would you like to see my room, or maybe you’d prefer the garden?”

“I want to see your room, and I’m going to guess you want me to go up the stairs in front.”

I laughed. “Now, why would I do that?”

She grinned. “So you can see my panties again and look at my… my bum. It’s what you like.”

“And why do I get the impression that you don’t mind?”

“Well, I don’t really know why you want to do that, but I think it’s naughty and it’s fun but mostly, if it makes you happy, then I guess I am as well.”

“What, you want to make me happy?”

“More than you know, Bee, because you’ve already made me so happy.”

Then I got the best surprise so far. She actually lifted the back of her dress as she went up the stairs. This was getting interesting much quicker than I expected. I knew my knickers were getting wet and not just from looking at her bum. What she had said suggested so much more.

She stood looking around my room, mostly studying my posters. “I’ve never seen any of these singers. Who are they?”

“They were from my dad’s collection. They’re all fifties rock-and-roll singers. I don’t think you’d have ever heard of them, but it’s what I like.”

She walked over to my bed and put her hand on the pillow, “And this is where you sleep.” She bent down and smelled my pillow, “I can smell you. It’s lovely, Bee. Can I lie down?”

“Of course you can, make yourself at home.”

I watched her as she lay. Now she had become so beautiful to me. “Can I kiss you again please, Evelyn?”

“I don’t think you need to ask me anymore.”

I climbed onto the bed alongside her and pulled her into my arms, until, slowly, our lips came together. Her arms went around my neck. Now she really kissed me.

The kiss went on and on. My fingers caressed her ear and then her neck. I felt her shiver before she kissed me harder. This girl was learning fast.

She didn’t offer any protest when I began to unfasten the top buttons of her dress. I felt the bare flesh of her chest. I hadn’t intended to push things so quickly but she seemed happy to let me do as I wanted.

She didn’t break our kiss but her eyes flew open when my hand covered her nipple. Obviously, there were no breasts, just two tiny bumps, but her nipple instantly reacted to my touch. I felt it growing and stiffening.

Still, she stared into my eyes, her own fingers gripping my neck harder. I heard the little moan in her throat before her eyes closed again. Her kiss became more insistent, and I let my tongue tease her lips. She didn’t know what I wanted, but I continued to press, and she slowly opened her lips and let me push my tongue into her mouth. I was amazed at how tight she held me.

I began to unfasten more of her buttons, and still, there was no reaction other than that her tongue now mingled with mine. Without any conscious thought, my knee had pressed down, opening her legs until my thigh was over her pussy.

The front of my knickers was soaking wet, I could feel the squidgyness as I slid my pussy along her leg. My arousal took control and I began to rub faster. I pressed my other leg into her, and her eyes flew open again at the contact. I broke the kiss and watched her expression as I felt her hips begin to move.

Emotions showed on her face, maybe shock or wonder at what she was feeling. Her hips had gone still. I barely heard her whisper, “Are we having sex, Bee?”

“Yes, my love, we are but I’ll stop if you want.”

“Oh no, don’t stop.” Then she frowned again, “Bee, you said, ‘my love’?”

“Yes, I did and I meant it.”

She kept on looking at me but her hips started to move again, she was now rubbing herself on me, “Then you can sex me.” I almost giggled at her girlie expression but then I thought it was lovely.

“What are you feeling — anything good, Evie?”

“I don’t know what it is, but it’s so good, all sort of tingly and exciting in my pee purse.”

I’d never heard it called that before, but I thought it was adorable. “Can I make your pee purse feel even better? Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do. I love you, so why wouldn’t I?”

I moved myself down her body but I kept my eyes on hers, she lifted her head to watch me but she was smiling. Then my lips wrapped around a nipple. “Ooh Bee, that feels nice.”

At first, I sucked softly, marvelling that the nipple was harder and bigger than I expected. Her moans told me that it was a sensitive part of her body and that she loved what I was doing.

I lifted my head. “I love you so much, and I want to make you so happy.”

I pulled her dress down, exposing her arms. I tickled her belly button with my tongue. Still, I watched the wonderful expressions on her face. When I got the dress bunched down around her hips, she lifted her bum off the bed so I could get it all the way off. I hooked my fingers into the elastic of her panties as I went and pulled them off, too.

Then I knelt over her and looked, holding her clothes in my lap. She was more beautiful than I dreamed when I was peeking up her skirt or spying on her when she peed. That all felt like pathetic baby games now that she was lying naked. She looked so smooth and slender and gold-coloured all over.

The hungry way I was looking at her made her nervous again. She put a hand over her pussy, suddenly shy.

“No, love,” I said. I moved her arm away.

I tossed her clothes to the floor and got down between her legs. My face was an inch from her beautiful hairless mound. Her eyes opened wider. “Bee, what…” but she trailed off when my tongue licked her slit, those lovely tight lips.

A long hard lick, and then I dipped my tongue, pushing into her, between her little lips. I heard her strangled voice: “Oh my God, that’s so good.”

She suddenly screamed out, “Bee!” when my tongue found her little clit. Her hips surged up to meet me as I sucked her. She gave an “ooh” as I flicked it with my tongue.

I was very careful with my fingers when I gently pushed inside her. My mind was in a whirl. How I wanted this girl! But, somehow, I stayed in control.

So gently, I fucked her pussy and sucked her clit, I felt her body responding as she lifted to meet me.

I kept up a steady rhythm. Somehow, I knew she didn’t know what was happening to her and I so wanted to make it special, something she would always remember in a good way.

Her back was arching and I felt her vagina clamping on my fingers, and again, she called my name. I knew my baby was about to come. She hadn’t told me, so I didn’t know if she’d ever come before.

Her body went mad, writhing, bucking, banging into my sucking lips until she stopped moving, coiled like a spring waiting for release. I sucked and tongued her clit while my fingers caressed her inside her pussy. Then the shaking began. My baby was coming. Her mound banged me so hard it bruised my lip. But I didn’t care… I was too happy.

Then the splash hit me. This was something new to me. I’d never known it before. I lowered my mouth, taking her in, tasting the wonders of my love.

She dropped to the bed and I followed, my head lying between her legs. Never had I felt so worn out just trying to please someone. The wonderful smell from her sex filled my senses. Then I worried, had I pleased her or had I frightened her? Oh God, I hoped I hadn’t.

I lay and watched her as she panted for breath. Then her eyes opened and she looked at me. “What was that, Bee? I never felt anything like that before.”

“But did you like it, my sweet, or are you cross with me?”

She stared at me, then she spoke, “Bee, I never swore in my life. Can I now? I so fucking loved every second of it. I didn’t know such wonderful feelings existed. What you just did to me… it was so fucking wonderful.”

I felt the tear trickle down my cheek. Her hand reached to stop it.

“Bee, what’s wrong?”

“Oh, my love, absolutely nothing.”

We cuddled for an age. There was no need to speak. Our love was enough.

Finally, she whispered, “Bee, am I your girlfriend? Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

I sat up, resting on an elbow and looked down at my little dream, “Evelyn, I love you so much, if you want to be my girlfriend. You’d make me so happy and I don’t just mean here. I mean at school too, I don’t care who knows.”

“You really mean that, don’t you?”

“More than you can possibly imagine, my darling Evelyn.”

On to Part Two!

 

Author’s note: A little context might be necessary for part 3.

It features cameo appearances by two characters from a previous series of mine that suffered a tragedy in the final part of that story. This chapter deals with the aftermath of that tragedy.

It’s not as depressing as it sounds.

No, really, it isn’t…

***

by BlueJean

The church fête was held on the village green once a year and drew people from far and wide. Traditionally the fête had been a way to raise funds for church repairs, but these days it was more about community, people showcasing their various skills and selling homemade goods.

I wasn’t all that concerned about the community part. I’m not exactly a people person. But it was a good way to sell some of our honey and other apiary products.

I had a little stall set up on the green, and the girls were enjoying playing at being shopkeepers. Freya used the calculator on her tablet to work out the cost and change, and Millie put each item into a paper bag and handed it to the customer.

Even Bee got in on the action. The puppy had her soft bed down by the side of the stall, and spent the day making lots of new friends as people made a fuss of her and gave her treats.

Other people from the village and the surrounding area were selling their own products. Fruit and vegetables, chutneys and preserves, lemonade, artisan bread, alcohol, knitted goods, pottery. There wasn’t much you couldn’t find here.

A couple of years back, a middle-aged couple from the neighboring county had set up a satanic stall, selling pentagram beer mats, Ouija boards and homemade 666 Cider. I thought it was absolutely hilarious, but the vicar didn’t agree. They weren’t invited back.

Sadie had a go at making damson jam this year, and we sold it for her on our stall alongside my honey. She had apologised profusely about masturbating during our Zoom call, and we’d both laughed about it afterward, but I couldn’t help feeling there was something different between us now. Something that couldn’t be put back in the box.

I could see the vicar moving towards my stall and groaned. He was a squat little man in his sixties, hair combed over his head in a futile attempt at hiding his baldness and beady little eyes that betrayed the lack of humour in his pretend smile. I didn’t like that he was a bit over friendly with little girls and boys either. I had no proof that he’d done anything wrong, but people had been talking for years.

“Hello, Georgia and Sadie!” he cried, his eyes on Freya and Millie, rather than my friend and me.

“Afternoon, vicar,” Sadie said pleasantly.

“Vicar,” I said, not so pleasantly.

“And hello, Freya and Molly!”

“I’m Millie,” Millie corrected him, looking a little offended.

“Millie, yes. And aren’t you both looking pretty today?”

Just you try it, you slimy little weasel, and I’ll rip your spleen out via your arsehole, is what I wanted to say, but instead opted for, “Say hello, girls.”

“Hello,” the girls chimed in unison.

“Ha ha!” the vicar chuckled. “Oh, thanks muchly for helping me organise again this year, Sadie. Your assistance was invaluable.”

“Always glad to help,” Sadie said, all smiles.

“And I hope to see you at church one day, Georgia. I haven’t given up on you yet!”

“Oh, I’m pagan through and through, vicar. There’s nothing I enjoy more than sacrificing a goat, or burning some poor soul in a wicker man.”

That cheap smile was wiped off the vicar’s face in an instant. He gave me a shocked look, then the smile was back. He waggled a finger at me. “Ah, I see! You’re having a joke with me. Haha! Very good, very good! God loves a sense of humour!”

“Yes, those biblical plagues and genocidal floods were a right side splitter,” I said, sarcastically.

“Ha ha! Well done! Well done!” the vicar chuckled as he slunk off to annoy someone else.

“Twat,” I said under my breath.

Sadie swatted my arm. “Don’t call him that, he’s a man of the cloth!” she said, a combination of shock and amusement on her face.

As the day wore on, I began to wish that the rest of the honey would hurry up and find a good home. It was getting hot, and I was becoming weary of the incessant chatter of people as they strolled about the village green. Freya, Millie and Bee were getting bored too, by the look of it.

I almost decided to call it a day when a lady and a young girl with blonde curly hair approached our stall.

“Heya,” I greeted them.

“Hi,” said the woman. “Did you make this honey?”

“Well, the bees made it, really, but I helped them put it into jars,” I replied, but the woman didn’t seem to find that funny. I don’t think I was shopkeeper material.

“Shall we take a jar, Peanut?” the woman said to the sombre looking girl beside her. The child, who looked to be about Freya’s age, nodded.

“We don’t have any jars of peanuts, just honey and some beeswax,” Millie said, helpfully.

“Shhh, Millie!” Freya hissed at her sister.

“What?” Millie said, confused.

“That’ll be £8 please,” I said.

Millie took one of the remaining jars of honey and popped it into a paper bag. The flimsy bags really weren’t much use, but Millie insisted that bagging up the jars was an extremely important part of the whole honey selling venture.

“That’ll be £8 please,” Freya said to the lady.

“Mummy already said that,” Millie reminded her sister.

“Shut up, Millie!” Freya said under her breath.

“Kids,” I said to the woman and rolled my eyes. She smiled and handed me a £10 note.

“Now I’ll just work out your change on my calculator,” Freya told her customer.

“It’s £2 change, you don’t need a calculator for that,” Millie said.

“Stop it, Millie! This is my job, not yours!”

“Stop arguing and give the lady her change, please,” I said, embarrassed.

Bee climbed out of her bed and jumped up on the blonde haired girl, wagging her tail.

“Down, Bee! Down!” I commanded the puppy, but she pretended she couldn’t hear me.

Millie walked round to the front of the stall and held a finger up. “Down, Bee. Good girl,” she said softly.

Bee sat down on the grass obediently.

The young girl knelt down and stroked the pup behind her ears. “She’s so cute,” she said in a quiet voice.

Millie knelt down too. “Her name’s Bumblebee, but we just call her Bee,” she told the girl proudly.

I pulled out a £2 coin from my bag of change and gave it to Freya, who handed it to the lady.

“Thank you,” the lady said and Freya went to give her the bagged up jar of honey.

“No, stop! That’s my job! Get away from it!” Millie shrieked, flapping her arms up and down, scrambling up to hand the honey to the lady.

“Well, give it to the customer then! You’re so embarrassing,” Freya said, hiding her face behind a hand.

I shook my head and smiled at the lady. “Are you local?” I asked her.

“No, we’re just down here for a break. We rented a little holiday cottage a couple of miles away,” she told me.

“Oh, that’s nice. It’s a beautiful part of the country, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it really is. It’s just what we needed.”

“Have you been to Habbernack Island yet?” Millie asked the girl, who shook her head. “It’s like this really tiny island on a pond, and there’s a boat that anyone can use to get there, and sometimes my sister and me camp there. Don’t we, Freya?”

“Uh… yeah,” Freya replied and stood on tiptoes to peer over the stall counter at the girl kneeling on the grass below. The newcomer glanced up at her and Freya darted back behind the stall, a mortified look on her face.

“You guys can go and show her the island, if her mum says it’s okay,” I said to the girls.

“Would you like that, Peanut?” the lady said to her daughter.

“Okay,” the girl replied, standing up.

“I’ll have a look round some of the other stalls until you get back, then.”

“Come on, Peanut! Follow me and Freya!” Millie said and marched off.

I gave Freya a gentle push. “Off you go, then.”

Freya didn’t seem thrilled about her new role as tour guide, but she reluctantly followed her sister and the blonde-haired girl. Bee tried to go with them, but I called her back to me and gave her one of her rawhide chews. I didn’t want her going near the pond, just in case the girls weren’t watching and she got into trouble in the water. Bee was still very young.

“I’m Georgia, by the way,” I told the lady and held out a hand.

“Sarah,” she replied and shook it.

***

I wasn’t sure about this girl called Peanut.

For a start, she had just about the silliest name I’d ever heard. Who would call their kid Peanut?

Second, she was very quiet and I hadn’t seen her smile even once. That was a bit suspicious. There was this one boy at school who never spoke to anyone and didn’t laugh or smile much and one day we found out that he’d been stealing cheese from some of the other kids’ lunch boxes. Just cheese, nothing else. Weird, right?

I’m not saying Peanut stole cheese, she probably didn’t, but I was definitely keeping an eye on her.

As we left the village green, we saw Mr Dalliard walking in the opposite direction. He looked a bit smarter than usual, wearing a navy blue blazer on top of his usual shirt and tank top. I was surprised he didn’t melt in the heat with all those clothes on. He wore his flat cap too. I don’t think I had ever seen him without it. I wondered if he wore it in the bath and when he went to bed.

“Hello, Mr Dalliard!” Millie shouted as we walked over to him.

“‘Ow do, young’uns,” Mr Dalliard said and doffed his cap at us.

“Mr Dalliard, this is Peanut. We’re going to take her to visit Habbernack Island,” my sister told him.

“‘Ow do, nipper.” Mr Dalliard winked at Peanut.

“Pardon?” Peanut said, looking confused.

I translated for her. “Mr Dalliard says hello.”

“Oh. Hi.”

“Mr Dalliard is the oldest man in the world,” Millie told Peanut.

“He’s not,” I said to Peanut quietly so Mr Dalliard wouldn’t overhear us.

“He is,” my sister insisted.

“He’s not!”

“He is!”

“I is, young’un, ’tis true. I’s older than old, me,” Mr Dalliard told Peanut.

“Pardon?” Peanut said, looking more confused than ever.

“We better go, Mr Dalliard. Nice to see you,” I said, trying to end the conversation before it got too embarrassing.

“Aye, hop along then, littluns. Have fun,” Mr Dalliard said and we headed off in the direction of Habbernack Pond.

The pond was a nice spot to come and watch the ducks swim about. Usually at this time of day there would have been a few people walking their dogs or maybe sitting on the benches that had been carved into old tree trunks and varnished, but because of the fête, we had the whole place to ourselves.

To me and my sister, Habbernack Pond was a great ocean and the Island was our pirate fortress. There was a little jetty with a rowing boat tied up to it, and that was our pirate frigate The Millennium Falcon. Millie decided on the name. She loves Star Wars.

“Peanut? How old are you?” I asked as we walked down a hill towards the jetty.

“I’m nine,” Peanut replied.

Nine. Good. I was older than her, which meant I was in charge.

“Peanut? How come you’re called Peanut?” Millie asked.

“Um… I’m not, that’s just a nickname my mum uses sometimes.”

I knew her name wasn’t really Peanut. What? I did!

“What’s your real name, then? I said.

“Kerry.”

“I’m Millie and that’s Freya,” my sister said, pointing at herself, then me.

“Would you like to play pirates with us?” I asked Kerry. I still didn’t trust her and if she tried to boss me around I’d definitely fight her, but I’m nice so I was willing to give her a chance.

“Pirates? How do you play that?” Kerry asked.

I cleared my throat. “Well, usually we find some sticks to use as swords, then we fight each other until Millie surrenders and then I tie her up and put her on the pirate frigate and then we sail to Habbernack Island which is our pirate base and then…”

I wasn’t sure if I should tell her the rest because the pirate game had turned a bit rude lately and I didn’t want Kerry to tell her mum on us.

“And then we just mess about doing piratey stuff,” I finished.

“It’s really fun,” Millie told Kerry.

“Okay, I don’t mind,” Kerry agreed.

“Cool. I’m Freya the Fierce and Millie is One-Eyed Millie. Who do you want to be?”

Kerry shrugged. “I dunno. You think of a name.”

“Captain Peanut!” Millie squealed.

Perfect. “Is Captain Peanut okay, Kerry?”

“Yeah, I s’pose,” Kerry said but she didn’t sound too happy about it. Maybe she was just shy.

“Do you mind being our captive?” I asked her.

“No, I want to be the captive!” Millie said with her hand in the air. “You two capture me and drag me off to your pirate lair.”

Millie liked being the prisoner for some reason. I think she liked being tied up too but I’m not sure why.

My sister ran off to look for some good sticks that we could use as swords while me and Kerry just stood around and waited. I felt a bit awkward.

I took a quick peek at her from the corner of my eye and looked away fast when I saw she was peeking back at me. I tried not to look again but sometimes the harder you try not to do something, the more you end up doing it. I glanced at her and she peeked at me again.

“What?” I said.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

I wished my sister would hurry up.

“Do… do you like pirates?” I asked her, not sure what else to say.

“They’re okay.”

“What do you like better?”

“Um…” Kerry said, thinking. “Dinosaurs, probably.”

“Oh, I quite like dinosaurs too.” I said. I wasn’t that keen on them, to be honest. “Wouldn’t it be awesome if a pirate rode on a dinosaur?”

Kerry looked at me like I’d gone completely mad and I suddenly wished I hadn’t said something so weird. “Yeah, I guess,” she said.

“I’m back!” Millie shouted, running towards us with three big sticks in her arms. Her feet got tangled, and she stumbled and fell. “Owies!” she squealed and looked up at us with a dopey grin on her face.

So embarrassing.

***

“She’s rather beautiful, isn’t she?” Sadie said to me as we watched this woman, Sarah, pottering around the stalls.

“Yes, very glamorous,” I agreed, handing over my last jar of honey to an elderly couple.

“Shall we seduce her?”

“No, we’re not seducing her. What’s wrong with you lately?” I said to my friend.

“I’m bored with my fingers, okay?” Sadie pouted, stamping her foot.

“You’re a school teacher, not a lesbian seductress.”

“Can’t I be both?”

“I suppose you can. Just not at the same time.”

We both laughed.

“What do you think her story is?” Sadie mused as we watched Sarah holding up one of Roy Sutton’s finely knitted cardigans. Roy was a whiz with a knitting needle and also the campiest man I’d ever met. He sometimes came round for tea and scones.

“I wouldn’t like to pry,” I told my nosy friend.

“Hmm… icy cold businesswoman with a young daughter who’s packed off to boarding school most of the time, but gets to spend a few days with her mother on holiday each year.”

“Wow. Way to give a complete stranger an unflattering backstory.”

“I’m only kidding, I’m sure she’s lovely.”

Yes. She was most certainly that.

I wondered why my libido was gravitating more towards other women of late. Perhaps it softened the guilt. Sleeping with other men still seemed like a betrayal of my late husband, but fooling around with other girls felt like a more acceptable proposition. More casual, less committed, perhaps? I wasn’t sure. But I got the feeling that Tony wouldn’t have minded me sleeping with other women.

He would have wanted you to move on, and you’re not moving on if you keep asking yourself what he would have wanted, some part of me told myself.

***

“Let me go, you ruffians!” One-Eyed Millie squealed as she lay tied up on the deck of the Millennium Falcon.

“Silence, cur!” I shouted and poked her with my foot.

Me and Captain Peanut were rowing towards Habbernack Island, our base of operations. Normally we would have unfurled the sails but we didn’t actually have any because… um… they burnt down in a previous battle and we were having trouble raising funds for new ones. Besides, we agreed that it was nice to get some exercise.

Captain Peanut wasn’t very good at rowing, to be honest. I had to explain to her that we were supposed to pull the oars at the same time or we’d just end up going round in circles. Sometimes she would miss the water completely.

But eventually we reached shore and tied our ship up to the little wooden post sticking out of the ground, so it wouldn’t float away. You usually drop the anchor on a ship this size but we couldn’t because… er… it fell off? Nightmare.

“On your feet, ye scurvy dog!” I ordered our prisoner and we marched her over to the willow tree that grew in the middle of the island. The canopy spilled down around us and it was almost like a tent inside, shading us from the sun and hiding us from prying eyes.

“Tie her to the tree, Captain Peanut,” I commanded. I was actually an admiral, so I outranked her.

“Okay,” Peanut said and tied our captive up to the trunk of the tree with the spare bit of rope that we kept in the ship. Captain Peanut was a woman of few words but her cruel and vicious reputation was known throughout the Caribbean. Probably.

I wondered if she could keep a secret though.

I decided to take a chance. If she told on us, I would have to shoot her in the back with my pistol and then bury her on the island.

“Captain Peanut, I think we should have our wicked way with the prisoner,” I declared.

“Huh?”

“Don’t you dare!” One-Eyed Millie wailed, trying her best to look horrified. She couldn’t quite hide a little grin, though.

I undid the button on Millie’s shorts and slowly pulled them down to see how Kerry would react.

Kerry stared at my sister’s white panties and then looked at me.

“Do you think we should pull her knickers down too, Captain?” I asked my second-in-command.

“Yeah, I think you should,” replied Kerry.

“You won’t tell, will you?” I asked her, just to make sure.

She shook her head. “No, I promise.”

Satisfied that our new playmate wouldn’t dob on us, I reached for the waistband of my sister’s panties and slowly pulled them down round her knees. Kerry was staring at Millie’s private bits.

“Watch this,” I said and rubbed my fingers all over Millie’s kitty, her lips parting as I slid a finger between them.

“You should lick her there,” Kerry said.

Wow, licking kitties was a lot ruder than anything me and Millie had tried. Maybe Mum was right when she said all girls were interested in this kind of thing.

“Lick it? I never did that before,” I told her.

“It tastes really nice.”

“You’ve licked someone’s kitty before? Whose?” I asked.

Kerry looked away. “Oh, just a friend,” was all she said.

“Shall I lick it, Millie?” I asked my sister.

“You can if you want, I don’t mind,” Millie replied with a giggle.

I knelt between my sister’s legs and gave her kitty a little lick. It did taste kind of nice, and I felt really naughty and sexy doing it too. I licked it again, for longer this time.

“Put your tongue between her pussy lips,” Kerry suggested.

“Okay,” I replied and pushed my tongue through Millie’s slit. That tasted even nicer.

“It feels funny,” Millie said, looking down at me with a big grin on her face.

“Do you want a go, Kerry?” I said.

Her eyes lit up. “Yes, please,” she said, quick as a flash.

“Is it okay if Kerry licks it, Millie?” I asked my sister. It was her kitty, after all.

“Mm-hmm,” Millie said, nodding.

Unlike me, Kerry didn’t hesitate. She just dived right in and began lapping away at my sister’s kitty.

“Oh, wow!” Millie gushed as Kerry’s tongue flickered back and forth over her slit.

“Does it feel good?” I asked my sister.

“Yeah. It’s like… it’s like… well, I dunno what it’s like actually, but it feels amazing.”

Kerry used her fingers to spread my sister’s lips apart. She pointed to a little bump at the top of Millie’s kitty. “Lick her there,” she said to me.

I licked right where she told me to, and Millie nearly jumped out of her skin, giving a surprised cry. “Shhh! someone might hear us,” I told her and went back to licking her little nub.

My sister was gazing down at me with this really dreamy look on her face and she kept pushing herself against my mouth. I could smell her kitty, and wondered if it was normal to like it.

“I think we should make our captive lick our pussies now,” Kerry said and loosened the rope a bit. “Can you kneel down please, Millie?” she asked my sister. I didn’t think pirates were that polite to their captives but I was too interested in the things we were doing to care.

Millie knelt down against the willow tree, then Kerry pulled her skirt and panties down and stepped out of them. I craned my neck to get a look at her kitty but tried not to make it look too obvious.

Kerry saw me though. She turned to me, pushed her hips out and spread her fanny open right in my face. “Is this what you want to see?” she said in a voice that was sort of mean but for some reason I didn’t mind. I had no idea this quiet girl could be so rude. It was awesome.

I stared at her kitty and noticed that she was really, really wet. She smelled even better than my sister.

“I’ll let you lick me later, but first you should take your shorts and panties off and then we can make your sister do it to us,” Kerry said.

I was the oldest so I really should have been in charge, but Kerry seemed to know what she was doing and she had some really cool ideas so I was happy to follow her lead. I wasn’t even sure we were still playing pirates anymore, to be honest.

I had a quick peek through the willow leaves just to make sure no one was on the other side of the pond, and then quickly pulled my shorts and knickers off.

“Do your worst, you salty sea dogs! I won’t ever talk!” Millie wailed and then Kerry pushed her kitty into my sister’s face.

“Lick my pussy,” our new friend said but Millie didn’t seem sure.

“Shall I?” my sister asked me.

“Yeah, go on. It tastes nice,” I said. I really wanted to see her do it.

Millie stuck her tongue out and gave Kerry’s kitty a little lick, then another, and then a third, longer one. “This is really rude,” she said, grinning.

“Lick it really fast, like I did to you,” Kerry said to my sister and Millie did her best to flick her tongue over Kerry’s kitty, putting a lot of effort into it.

I couldn’t help but stare at Kerry’s bare bum cheeks, which were clenching in and out as my sister licked her and there was a drowsy look on her face. “You can have a go now,” she said to me.

I didn’t think I needed her permission to put my kitty into my sister’s face, but I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want to spoil the fun.

I bent my knees slightly, thrust my hips out and brought my kitty really close to my sister’s face. “Okay, Millie, do that to me now.”

I felt Millie’s tongue flicking over my kitty lips and it was just about the best thing ever. It was like being tickled with electric shocks, which doesn’t sound that awesome but it really was.

Kerry reached out and spread my kitty open. “See that little lump at the top, Millie? Lick her there.” And when she did, I understood why my sister had cried out like she did. It felt amazing, kind of like a nice stinging, tickling feeling that spread out through my whole kitty.

“My turn,” Kerry said and I nearly told her she would have to wait but I guess it was only fair that she had another go.

We went back and forth like that for a while, taking turns at having Millie lick us until my sister told us her tongue was getting tired.

“Shall I lick yours now, Kerry?” I asked our new friend.

“Let’s lick each other at the same time,” Kerry suggested.

“How?” I asked her.

“Okay, you lay down,” she said and I got on my back.

Kerry stood over me and I thought she was going to sit on my face but she put her legs on either side of my head so that her kitty and her bumhole were right in my face. I’d never seen a bumhole up that close before.

“You can start licking me now,” Kerry told me.

“What shall I do?” Millie said, kneeling down next to us.

“Will you lick my bumhole, Millie?” Kerry asked my sister.

“That’s dirty,” Millie said, screwing her face up.

“It’s not really,” Kerry said.

“I don’t want to lick your bumhole. Shall I just help Freya lick your kitty?”

“Okay then,” Kerry said and put her face between my legs. Soon I could feel her tongue on me.

If having my sister lick my kitty was nice, Kerry doing it to me was about ten times better. It felt like her tongue was everywhere at the same time when she licked and sucked on me. She even fingered me while she licked my little lump and I wondered why I’d never thought of doing both things at the same time. She was really good at sex. I wondered where she’d learnt all this naughty stuff from.

I stuck my tongue out and licked Kerry’s kitty, trying to copy what she was doing. Poking my tongue in and out of her hole was my favourite. It tasted really nice. I was a bit embarrassed that my nose kept touching her bumhole but she didn’t seem to mind and it didn’t smell bad. Millie knelt down next to me and had a little lick too. We kissed each other, which made us giggle, and then I went back to licking Kerry some more.

I started to get that feeling again, the one where I was building up to something but didn’t know quite what. It was almost like I wanted to have a big wee and explode all at once. Only this time, as Kerry sucked on my little bump, I kind of went over the edge and everything was like a white flash.

“Ahhhh!” I moaned without meaning to. I’d never felt anything like it.

“Keep licking, keep licking!” Kerry begged us, so me and my sister kept running our tongues all over her kitty, which was really wet now. I felt her go all tense and I think that was when the same thing that happened to me happened to her too.

I just lay there for a while with Kerry on top of me, amazed by what had just happened, and then she climbed off me. Her mouth was all wet from where she had been licking me. “We just did an orgasm together,” she said.

I knew what an orgasm was, some girls at school had told me about it, but I thought only older girls could have one.

“I’m gonna go look for fish,” Millie said, putting her shorts and knickers back on and stepping through the willow leaves.

Things didn’t seem as awkward between me and Kerry now that we’d done rude stuff together. We sat down against the willow tree, still naked from the waist down. I smiled at her but she didn’t smile back.

“Kerry?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“How come you hardly ever smile?”

Kerry looked down at her knees, then at me, then back at her knees again.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“Something bad happened to me a while back,” she told me in a quiet voice.

I waited for her to continue.

“My best friend died,” she said and burst out crying.

I didn’t know what to do. I just sat there with my mouth open.

Then I remembered how Mum used to rub my back when I cried, so that’s what I did to Kerry. “It’s okay,” I told her softly.

“It’s not okay. I really want her back. I just want her back!” Kerry sobbed, tears streaming down her face.

“Shhh, shhh,” I said as I rubbed her back. I knew you were supposed to say ‘shhh’ too.

I felt really bad for her. So bad that I nearly started crying too.

When she calmed down a bit, I took hold of Kerry’s shoulders and gently pushed her down. “Lay back for a minute,” I told her.

“Why?” Kerry asked, rubbing tears from her eyes.

“It’s okay, trust me.”

I took my t-shirt off and then took Kerry’s off too, so we were both naked. I lay on top of her and started to rub my kitty on hers, up and down, up and down, the wetness from our licking and our orgasms making it feel really nice and slippy.

Kerry started crying again, but not so loud this time. Just a quiet sobbing, her eyes peering at me as tears ran down her face. She cupped my bottom and rubbed herself against me and I kissed her tenderly on the lips.

“Shhh,” I kept saying as I rubbed against her. “It’s going to be okay, Kerry. It’s going to be okay. Don’t cry.”

We rubbed and rubbed, sliding our sticky kitties together. Kerry wrapped her legs around me and we ground against each other harder, little squelchy noises coming from between our legs. We kissed each other like grownups kissed, our tongues touching, tasting one another.

We both orgasmed together again, not as big as last time but softer and nicer, like there was no rush for it to come out.

I wiped away a tear from Kerry’s cheek and she closed her eyes. I closed mine too and rested my head against her neck. “It’s going to be okay,” I whispered and we fell asleep together.

***

I’d collapsed my stall and packed everything into the boot and back seat of my yellow and black striped Volkswagen Beetle, then Sarah strolled over.

“Do you think the girls are all right? They’ve been gone awhile,” she said, looking a little concerned. Bee sniffed around her feet and wagged her tail and Sarah bent to tickle her under her chin.

“They’ll be fine, but I should have told them not to be too long. They tend to lose all track of time.”

“Are you going home now?” Sarah asked. It was early evening and most folks had departed; just a few stalls were still being packed away and loaded into vehicles. Sadie and a few other volunteers were helping the vicar clean up.

“Yeah. Listen, do you want to come back with me? The girls may have already gone home and if not, we can head over to the pond and pick them up,” I suggested.

“What if they come back here?”

“My friend Sadie is going to be here a while longer. If they come back, I’ll get her to send them home.”

“Okay, sure, as long as you think they’re all right.”

I lifted Bee up onto what little space was left on the back seat, closed the door, then opened the passenger side for Sarah. “You don’t need to worry, it’s safe around here. The girls are out running around all the time. Back in a sec,” I said and ran over to Sadie who was taking some signs down.

“Sarah’s coming back home with me to wait for the girls. If they turn up here, can you send them home?” I asked her.

“Sure will.”

“Thanks, see you later!”

“I’m jealous, but have fun!” Sadie trilled as I jogged back to the car.

“Oh, stop,” I said and rolled my eyes at her.

Sarah was sitting in the passenger seat as I climbed in the other side and turned the ignition, the engine sputtering into life. “I couldn’t imagine letting Kerry go out on her own where we live,” she told me.

“That’s why I left the city and moved out here with the girls. It’s a different way of life,” I said as she struggled to clip her seatbelt on. “Sorry, it’s always been a bit dodgy. You have to sort of do it at an angle and then push down hard.”

She was still struggling to clip it in as I drove along. “Can’t seem to get it.”

“Yeah, wiggle it about a bit, it usually clicks in.”

I pulled over and turned the engine off.

“Oh, you didn’t have to pull over, I would have got it eventually,” Sarah said, still fighting the stubborn seatbelt.

“We’re here,” I told her.

Sarah looked up and noticed our thatched cottage. “Oh. Right,” she said and we laughed together.

We left the car behind and strolled up the garden.

“Girls?” I shouted up at the treehouse but there was no answer.

“Wow, it’s so idyllic here,” Sarah remarked as she gazed out across the poppy field.

“Yeah, I love it. Our apiary is over there in the orchard,” I said, gesturing toward the hives.

“It makes my home look like a Russian gulag,” Sarah said as we made our way over to the cottage.

“Girls? Are you here?” I shouted up the stairs but only silence greeted us. “I guess they’re still over at the pond. Would you like a glass of wine before we head over there, or are you keen to pick Kerry up right away?”

“I could manage a glass of red wine, I think,” Sarah said.

“Oh, I don’t have red, I’m afraid, just rosé.”

“Rosé is fine.”

I fed Bee quickly, then grabbed a cold bottle of rosé from the fridge, along with two glasses. “Let’s sit outside,” I suggested and opened the french doors up so we could sit on the rattan couch and look out over the fields.

I wound the awning down to give us some shade, but it was stiff again. I reminded myself to spray some lubricant on it when I had a chance.

“Do you want a hand with that?” Sarah said and grabbed hold of the crank too.

“Thanks,” I told her.

I could smell her perfume, a subtle but pleasant bouquet that reminded me of my wildflower meadow. She glanced at me and smiled as we turned the crank, and suddenly I had an urge to kiss her slender neck.

The awning wound out to its full length, and we sat down to enjoy our wine. It was almost 6:00 PM, and thankfully the heat of the day had subsided a little. A refreshing breeze blew in from across the fields.

“So you’re a city girl, huh?” I said, my feet curled up on the couch.

“Yeah, but we’re right by the coast so we get to enjoy the beach. But nothing as beautiful as this.”

“If my husband was still alive, I’d probably still be living in the city now,” I told her. “I think I’d take him instead of all this, though, as wonderful as it is.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Sarah said.

I settled my gaze on her. “You lost someone too, didn’t you?”

She looked out across the barley field, her fingers idly caressing her glass.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I said. I really should learn to keep my mouth shut.

“How did you know?” Sarah spoke again, after a long silence.

“It’s all in the eyes, I guess.”

Another long silence and then she turned to look at me. “How… how do you move on?”

I sighed. “For me… for me it was starting afresh somewhere new, I suppose. Leaving the old life behind, you know? Or trying to…” I said, trailing off. Was I moving on, really? “Maybe it’s different for each person. I really don’t know.”

Sarah smiled bitterly and shook her head. “How could I be so stupid? I thought she was still there, in that old place. I thought I was near her there. But she isn’t there anymore, is she?”

“There aren’t any easy answers, I don’t think. It’s… messy. And ugly. It’s supposed to be messy and ugly,” I told her, aware of how clumsy my words sounded.

A commotion in the sky above us drew our attention — a flock of starlings flying as one across the evening sky, a great undulating cloud of blackness, rattling and chattering.

“Wow,” Sarah said in amazement as we watched them disappear over the trees. And then she looked at me again. “I’m lonely,” she told me.

“Me too,” I said and moved in to kiss her.

She put her fingers on my lips and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I — I can’t.”

I sat back and smiled warmly at her, trying not to let the moment turn awkward. “I understand.”

***

“Look, the starlings!” I heard Millie shout and woke with a start.

Kerry opened her eyes and blinked at me.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hi,” she replied and smiled at me.

I climbed off her and started to get dressed. “We should head back to the fête. I’m not sure Mum will still be there, though.”

“Will we be in trouble?” Kerry asked as she put her clothes on.

“We’ve been out this late before, but your mum might tell us off for kidnapping you.”

Kerry smiled again. She had a nice smile.

We emerged from the willow canopy to find Millie standing by the boat with a strange look on her face.

“What’s the matter?” I asked her.

My sister looked past me and settled her gaze on Kerry. “Your grief is my grief, child,” she said in a weird voice.

I slapped her on the arm. “Oi! Don’t say creepy stuff to Kerry!”

“Huh?” Millie said as Kerry and me walked past her and climbed into the boat.

Somewhere, up in the willow tree, I could hear a crow cackling down at us.

“Hurry up, or we’ll go without you,” I said to my sister and she jumped into the boat with us.

As we were rowing towards the far bank, I could see Mum’s Beetle parked in the gravel car park up on the hill. Mum, Bee and Kerry’s mum were waiting for us near the water. Kerry’s mum put a hand up to wave and Kerry waved back.

Mum drove us to the train station where Kerry and her mum had a ticket back to their holiday cottage. I would’ve liked to have invited Kerry back to play with us again but her mum told us that they would be going back home tomorrow. Kerry and me looked at each other and made sad faces.

The station was home to a lovely old steam train that travelled between a few local stations in the area. It was mostly for the tourists, but my sister, my mum and me liked to ride it every now and then for fun.

We stood on the platform as Kerry and her mum climbed aboard the old locomotive and soon the train blew its whistle to let us know it was leaving. Millie put her fingers in her ears like she always did.

As the train slowly pulled away from the station, steam puffing out of its smokestack, I ran along the platform, trying to keep up with it.

“Kerry!” I shouted and she pulled down the window.

“You’re going to be okay! Okay?” I hollered.

“Okay,” she said and smiled.

“Okay?” I shouted again.

“Okay!” she shouted back.

“OKAY?!” I shouted as loud as I could.

“OKAY!!” she shouted and bounced up and down, laughing.

I slowed down and came to a halt, out of breath, the train chug-chugging out of the little village station and away into the distance.

She would be okay. She would.

I headed back towards my sister and my mum, who were waiting for me at the other end of the platform.

On to Chapter Four!