Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Naughty Mommy

“We all need to be touched, Stacie,” my mom said. “That’s what I discovered when Jordan was playing with my tits last Sunday night in bed. I liked it. I wanted it. I needed it.”

She gently squeezed my braless breast through my shirt, ever so slowly bringing her fingers together until they were pinching my hard nipple. Oh my god, it felt so good. But why did it feel so good?!

I could feel my pussy getting wet. Why was this so arousing to me? Did I want my mother to touch me sexually, in front of my little girl? Apparently I did!!!

“We need to be touched,” she breathed, “and who better to touch us than someone who knows us, who loves us, who cares for us, someone who has always loved us and always will, someone we can count on forever?”

Now she was not only fondling and caressing my breast, but her face was right next to mine. Her breath was hot on my neck. My mom was nuzzling and kissing my neck!

“Mother, what — what are you doing? We can’t — not in front of Jordan!”

“Jordan won’t mind,” she whispered as she nibbled on my earlobe. “She knows all about this.”

My mother’s hand was sliding down from my chest, across my belly, down to my crotch.

This was too much. I had to object. “Mother, please, stop! What are you doing?”

She sat up straighter, taking her mouth from where she had been licking my neck. She smiled at me, her eyes glazed and hooded.

“Don’t try to fight it,” she purred. “It’s what you need, it’s what we all need. Jordan taught me that. And you know it yourself, Stacie. Why else would you ask your 7-year-old daughter to suck on your nipples?”

My face was burning. The secret was out. My mother knew the kinds of intimate things that Jordan and I did in bed.

But she wasn’t objecting to it. She wasn’t condemning me for it. Exactly the opposite. She was excited by it, and now she was trying to seduce me, her own daughter!!

“You… she…” I was tongue-tied.

“I know what you do with her. She told me. She showed me. She did it with me. That and more. So much more.”

So much more?! What could that mean??

I began to stand up, but my mother’s arm on my shoulder held me down. “Come on, honey, don’t fight it,” she said. “This is what you want. This is what you need.”

“But, I…” I was afraid I was going to cry. I didn’t know what to do or what to think. I was caught up in a dizzying combination of lust and desire and shame and fear.

My mom put her hand on my cheek. Her touch was gentle now, comforting, not as insistently sexual.

“Let’s talk about this, sweetie. Don’t run away. Don’t be afraid. We love you. I love you, and you know how much Jordan loves you. We want you to be happy. We want you to feel good, and we want to make you feel good too.”

She grinned at the double meaning of her words, and I couldn’t help grinning too.

Jordan hugged me on the other side. “It’s okay, Mommy. Don’t worry.”

“But, I…” I began again, helplessly. “I just don’t know.”

“It’s all right,” my mother said. “Everything’s all right. We’re here for you. The three of us now. We can love each other and take care of each other.”

I had no siblings. I had no husband, no boyfriend, and for that matter no girlfriend. My father had died two years earlier. All I had was my mother and my daughter.

All we had was each other. I began to look at the situation differently.

“Are you… are you saying,” I asked, “that we can, can love each other? I mean, that we can, all three of us, we can… be lovers?”

“Yes, honey, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” She scooted even closer to me, her warm body right up against mine. She put her hand on my chin, and turned my face to hers. I thought she was going to try to kiss me, but then she stopped.

She held out her hand. “Jordan, come here, baby. Sit on Nanna’s lap.”

My daughter got up obediently and sat on her grandmother’s lap, facing me.

“Now, Stacie,” my mother began, “don’t be afraid. We’re here to to take care of you. There’s nothing to be frightened of or ashamed of. But you have to face the truth.”

She took my chin again and turned my head to face her. She did kiss me then, but it was a quick kiss. Yes, it was on the lips, but it was more motherly and reassuring than seductive. After the kiss, she smiled at me and I smiled back.

But then she looked at Jordan and kissed her too. Only this kiss was longer, and definitely held the suggestion of an erotic bond between them.

When they finished, my mother looked at me and smiled again. Her lips were moist and shining. She spoke in a low voice. “When you and your daughter are cuddling in bed at night, and when she touches your breasts and plays with your nipples, and when you ask her to suck on your nipples, and after that, when you masturbate while she touches you sexually, and when you actually have an orgasm, assisted by your little girl, doesn’t that sound to you like you’re making love?”

She waited for a response.

“I… I guess… when you put it that way.”

“There’s no other way to put it. You already have been making love with your daughter.”

Everything she said was true.

I had let my daughter touch my breasts in bed at night, and I’d even encouraged her to do so. I had suggested that she could suck on my nipples if she wanted to, which she seemed to enjoy very much. We’d been doing those things for more than a year, and in the last several months, I had also started to play with my pussy as she sucked on my tits.

At first, I was cautious about it, wanting only to feel the gentle touch of my fingers on my clit. I tried not to let myself get too excited, preferring to wait until she’d fallen asleep before I quietly masturbated to a climax, as I did most nights. But just recently, during the previous few weeks before I went away for my training, I had made myself come while she was still awake, still touching me. That was a line I had crossed with her, giving myself an orgasm as she sucked my nipples. We had been doing that almost every night before I left.

But did it mean I was making love with her? That I was actually having lesbian sex with my own daughter? The way my mother described it, it certainly seemed that way.

Except I wasn’t a lesbian, was I? And could it really be true that I was committing incest with my little girl? All the evidence would seem to say that I was.

Equally as shocking was that my mother was apparently proposing not that I should stop what I was doing, but that I should continue it — and that I should extend it even further, to include having sex with her! Double lesbian incest!!

Again I shook my head. “I, I don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything,” she whispered as her mouth came close to mine.

Then she was kissing me. My mother was kissing me. And this time it was not a motherly kiss. It was a sexual kiss, clearly intended to convey carnal desire. Her lips were parted, and her tongue licked at my lips.

In spite of all my misgivings, I responded to her. I opened my mouth and let her tongue inside. I returned her kiss — and as I did, I felt a powerful craving from somewhere deep down inside me rising toward the surface. It seemed that this was the very thing I’d been waiting for all those years. This is why I had never accepted any of the dozens of offers to go out with anyone. Because no one else could possibly kiss me like this and make me feel this way.

When she finally pulled away, I was breathless, almost literally. My mouth hung open. My head was spinning.

Then I looked at Jordan, at my daughter. She was smiling at me. I saw that she had a hand on her Nanna’s breast and was casually massaging it. I wondered, what could a little girl be thinking when she sees her mother kissing another woman like that? And not just any woman, but the little girl’s grandmother!

It seemed that my mother knew my thoughts. “Jordan’s okay. She knows about kissing. We talked about it a lot. We practiced together too. She’s getting pretty good at it.”

“You mean, at kissing?” I mumbled.

My daughter nodded. “Uh-huh, I like kissing that way, with my mouth open and my tongue. Nanna showed me how.”

“Kiss me again, Stacie,” purred my mother.

I did. But this time instead of her leaning in toward me, I immediately leaned toward her. I wanted to feel the way I’d felt a moment before, to be nearly overcome with lust and passion as her tongue and her lips played with mine. And that’s exactly how I felt. It was intoxicating.

I loved my mother deeply. But we had been apart so much during the previous few years that I’d almost forgotten how much she meant to me. As a child, I had worshipped her. We’d been practically inseparable, as Jordan and I were now. My father had often traveled on business, and when he was away, my wonderful mother would let me sleep in bed with her, cuddling close at night, hugging and kissing.

And as she kissed me now, all those sweet shining memories came flooding back. Laughing with her, playing with her, running and dancing with her — my beautiful young mommy, the true love of my life.

We continued kissing for what seemed like a very long time, our mouths wet and open, my mother’s warm strong hands roaming all over my body. I was trembling with excitement, panting and sweating. My eyes were closed so I could fully savor every sensation.

When she finally pulled away and I opened my eyes, I was surprised to find two faces close to mine.

My darling little girl was cheek to cheek with her Nanna. She was breathing hard now too, apparently as aroused as I was by what was happening. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were hooded.

Before I could say anything, my mother turned and began kissing my daughter the same way she had just kissed me.

It was one of the most erotic sights I have ever seen: a mature grown woman, still beautiful and sexy at 44 years old, kissing a darling 7-year-old little girl, their lips parted and tongues exploring. What would have seemed unthinkable to me just a short time earlier was now irresistibly exciting. It made me want to touch myself, so I did.

I put my hand between my legs and began rubbing my pussy through the thin fabric of my shorts and my panties as I watched my mom and my daughter passionately kissing.

After a few seconds, they ended the kiss and smiled at each other. Jordan giggled. Her Nanna nuzzled her nose. Then my mother noticed what I was doing with my hand. She gave me a wink and nodded approvingly.

“Jordan, baby,” she said, “do you want to do a sexy strip tease for your Mommy and me now?”

“Okay,” Jordan eagerly agreed. My daughter stood up and moved the kitchen chair aside, giving herself a little room.

I was about to take my hand away from my crotch, but my mother prevented me. She held my wrist and guided my fingers back to where they’d been.

“Don’t stop,” she instructed. “She wants to see you doing that.”

Jordan was in a little yellow sun dress that came to about six inches above her knees. She was wearing white knee socks, with no shoes.

She smiled at us as she began to sway her body back and forth in a sensual rhythm, just like an exotic dancer. It looked as though she’d been practicing a lot.

My mother spread her long legs apart, lifting my thigh and placing it over hers. She opened a few more snaps on her dress so she could touch herself through her red panties. It was apparent that both she and I were expected to begin masturbating while we watched my little girl perform for us.

And Jordan was quite a performer. As she turned in a slow circle, my daughter gradually raised the hem of her dress, letting us see more and more of her pretty legs. By the time she’d completed the circle and was facing us again, the dress was pulled all the way up above her waist. She was wearing white cotton panties.

Still swaying, she stepped closer to us and continued raising the dress. When it was nearly up to the level of her nonexistent breasts (at only 7 years old, she was still completely flat-chested), she stopped and gave us a leering grin. She licked her lips, then turned her back to us and lifted the dress over her head and off. She tossed it onto the chair.

My mouth was literally watering at the sight of her. Even though she was my own daughter, and even though she was only in the 2nd grade, I still found this lovely child to be incredibly alluring and seductive. Her legs were unusually long and perfectly shaped. Her smooth pink skin almost begged to be touched.

I was masturbating now without hesitation. I’d slipped my hand inside my shorts and into my panties so I could touch myself directly. My pussy was very wet.

My mother had her hand under her panties too. She was moving her fingers fast and breathing hard. Her other hand was clutching her breasts through her dress.

Jordan turned to face us again. She had her arms crossed over her chest, her hands covering her nipples. As we watched her, she massaged herself and then pinched her little nipples between her fingers. She wasn’t smiling any more. Now she had a look of intense erotic arousal.

Stepping in front of me and looking straight into my eyes, my daughter hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and began slowly pulling them down as her body swayed suggestively. More pink skin was gradually revealed.

I knew very well that Jordan had no pussy hair yet. She was years away from puberty. But it was a tremendous thrill to see her vulva come into view. Her little slit, her puffy labia — she was getting naked, just for me, to get me excited!

And she was making me very excited. I was getting close to an orgasm as I rubbed myself while I stared at my little girl’s body. She slid the panties all the way down her legs and stepped out of them.

“Oh, you’re so beautiful…” I whispered to her.

In a gentle voice, my mother asked, “Jordan, do you want to watch your Mommy come?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded.

“I think you should kiss your Mommy while she comes.”

She shifted over to give Jordan room between us, and my daughter knelt on the sofa, facing me. The only thing she was wearing now was her white knee socks.

As she leaned in to kiss my mouth, she put her hand on my breast, over my shirt. I closed my eyes, parted my lips, and for the first time, my hot little girl and I shared a truly sexual kiss. I felt her tongue in my mouth. I felt her lips on mine. I felt her fingers squeezing my breast and pinching my nipple.

In the weeks leading up to our separation, I had climaxed with my daughter many times in bed at night as she fondled my breasts and sucked on my nipples. But that had been an unspoken arrangement, an undeclared passion. What we did then, we did without discussing it and without openly acknowledging it.

This was different. Now we were having lesbian sex and there was nothing secretive or undeclared about it. What we’d had before was wonderful and exciting, and my orgasms were certainly enjoyable, but this was at an entirely different level.

Knowing that my daughter wanted me to masturbate and make myself come for her, knowing that she had just stripped for me, and that she was kissing me right now and touching me, and that we soon would do even more than this, possibly much more — all of that combined to push me over the top, to make me climax as powerfully as I ever had.

While I was still in the middle of my first orgasm, with my eyes closed and my hand clamped between my thighs, I felt Jordan putting her hand under my shirt to grab my breast, and then I felt her lifting my shirt, and then I felt her little mouth closing over my erect nipple and sucking on it, and that made me start to come again.

And when that second strong orgasm began to subside and I was able to open my eyes, I saw something I will never forget. My daughter was no longer sucking my nipple. Now she was kissing her Nanna. But the unforgettable thing I saw was that my mother had her hand between my little girl’s legs and she was touching her pussy! She was reaching in from behind, her long fingers caressing my daughter’s puffy lips. And as I watched, my mother slid a finger between Jordan’s labia!!

I heard my daughter groan in pleasure. That made me want to come again. I grabbed my tit in my hand and squeezed it hard. The nipple was still wet from Jordan sucking on it. I pushed two fingers inside my vagina and fucked myself as I stared at the unbelievable sight of my mother fingering my little girl’s pussy.

Within seconds I came for the third time, and this one was even longer and more intense than the others.

“OHHH GOD!!!! FUCK — OHHH!!!!!” I heard myself screaming. That was something I had never done before, certainly not in front of Jordan. But I couldn’t help it.

And with that last tremendous orgasm, I was spent. I slumped down on the sofa, panting heavily, trying to catch my breath. With my eyes still closed, I removed my fingers from my dripping cunt and raised them to my mouth, licking and sucking them to taste myself. Still breathing hard, I placed both hands over my breasts and held them, trying to calm down.

I don’t know how long it was, but eventually I opened my eyes and looked up at Jordan and my mom. They were still kissing, but now my daughter was astride my mother’s leg, humping her little pussy against her Nanna’s bare thigh.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” I said to myself. Except I must have said it loud enough for them to hear. Because they ended their kiss and looked at me.

“Do you like it, Mommy?” Jordan was smiling at me.

“Of course she does,” my mother answered for me. Then she said, “Jordan, I think we ought to get your Mommy naked, don’t you?”

My little girl grinned and nodded her head.

“Why don’t you take off her clothes while I watch, okay?” suggested my mother.

“Okay!” Jordan quickly agreed.

“Take off her shirt first.” My mother sat up a little straighter but kept her hand inside her panties, caressing herself.

Jordan came to me and put her hands on the hem of my shirt. I had to sit up so she could get it off. She lifted the top over my head and laid it over the arm of the sofa. She stood back, and they both looked at my breasts.

“You’re a very beautiful girl, Stacie,” said my mother in a soft voice.

I have small breasts, but I’m generally thin, anyway, like my mom and my daughter. My tits are nicely shaped, though, and perky. My nipples are brown, and when they’re erect, as they were now, they get very long.

“Thank you,” I mumbled in response.

“Such gorgeous soft white skin,” my mother added.

Unlike her, I stay out of the sun. My skin is pale, much fairer than than my mother’s, more like my Irish father’s was, so I have to be very careful about not getting burned.

“Stand up,” she said, “so Jordan can take off your shorts.”

I obeyed. My daughter pulled down my dark blue shorts, and they both looked at my bikini undies, which were black and lacy, a nice contrast with my skin.

“Take off your Mommy’s panties, honey,” ordered my mother. My little girl slid them over my hips and down my legs, and then I was naked.

Although her dress was open up to the waist, my mother was still completely clothed, and Jordan was still wearing her socks, but I was naked. Totally naked in front of them.

My mother was staring at my pussy. During the previous few months I’d begun shaving it completely. I like the way it looks that way, and I love the way it feels when I masturbate, so smooth and slippery. I shave my pussy every evening in the bath with my daughter.

“God, you’re such a beautiful woman,” breathed my mother. “Look at her, Jordan. Look at your Mommy. Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

“Uh-huh,” my daughter nodded. Then she turned to her Nanna. “But we’re naked and you’re not.”

“That’s right,” laughed my mother. “And that’s not fair, is it? Tell you what, why don’t we go to your Mommy’s bedroom… we’ll be more comfortable on the bed, I think. And then you can take my clothes off too, okay?”

“Okay,” chirped Jordan. “Come on, Mommy.” She took my hand and we all went into my bedroom.

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Naughty Mommy

When my supervisor told me I’d been chosen to attend a special management training course, I was very excited. Here I was just 25 years old, a single mother lacking a college education, but through a lot of hard work I’d earned an opportunity I knew I couldn’t turn down. It would mean almost certain career advancement and a chance to make a lot more money.

The only problem was my daughter, Jordan. She was 7 years old and we were extremely close. Ever since she was born, we had not been apart for even a single night. I was totally dedicated to her. I rarely went out on dates, and I came straight home from work every night so I could be with her.

It’s not that I didn’t have plenty of people who wanted to date me. I was, I knew, considered an attractive young woman. I took care of my appearance and I liked being pretty. But I did it for myself, not for all those men (and some women, too) who made it quite clear that they would like to get to know me better.

My commitment, though, was to my daughter. I simply wasn’t interested in being with anyone else. I loved her dearly, and she was as devoted to me as I was to her.

That’s what concerned me. The training sessions were to take place in Minneapolis, halfway across the country, and I would be away for almost a full week. How would Jordan handle that kind of a separation?

I couldn’t take her with me. For one thing, I would be completely busy with my schedule: in addition to classes during the day, there would be lectures and discussion groups at night as well. And for another thing, I couldn’t possibly pull her out of school for that long. She was nearing the end of 2nd grade, doing very well, and I did not want to interrupt her education.

Finally I decided to ask my mother if she could come over to Spokane and stay with Jordan while I was gone. My mom lived several hours away, in Seattle, but I hoped she would be able and willing to make the trip, and she was.

“Oh, Stacie, that’s just wonderful, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked hard and you deserve it,” she told me on the phone when I called her. “Of course I’d be glad to come and help in any way I can.”

“Thank you so much, Mother. That’s a big relief. I know it’s not easy for you to get away, but I really don’t want to trust her to anyone else.”

“No problem, honey, I’m happy to do it. It’ll be fun spending time with my darling little granddaughter.”

We made the arrangements. My mom would drive over on the Sunday when I had to leave. She would arrive around 1:00, and my flight wasn’t until 4:40 that afternoon, so that should work out fine. I was pleased.

But now I had to tell Jordan. How would she respond?

My little girl and I were inseparable. We did everything together. She would happily come in the kitchen and help me fix our meal when I got home from work. After dinner, we cleaned up the dishes together, then I helped her with her homework if she had any, and then we would play games or read books or sometimes watch TV together until it was time for our bath.

We bathed together every night. It was a special time for us, a nice warm mother and daughter time. Then we put on our pajamas and got in bed together. She always slept in the same bed with me.

Jordan and I were very close — you might even say intimate — and I wasn’t sure she was prepared to be away from me for so long.

That night when I got home from work and picked her up at the neighbor’s house where she stayed after school, I told her we were going out for dinner as a special treat and we could go to any restaurant she wanted. She chose Chuck E. Cheese’s, of course, which was fine. We had a good time there, and in the car on the way home, I began the conversation.

“Honey, there’s something I have to tell you.”

“What, Mommy?”

“You know I’ve been working really hard at my job, and you remember I said that part of the reason I work so hard is because I might someday be able to get an even better job, become a manager. You remember that?”

“Uh-huh.”

I glanced over at my daughter. She’s so adorable. Any girl that age is precious, of course, but Jordan is something special. She has the cutest little face, those big brown eyes, and such sweet pink lips. Every time I look at her I love her even more.

“It turns out,” I told her, “that I have an opportunity right now to do something really neat. It’s a chance to attend a training school so I can get a promotion. I didn’t think it would happen this soon, but they told me today that I’ve been chosen over six other people who wanted to go.”

“Wow, that’s cool, Mommy.”

“But the thing is, honey, I have to go away to another city for a few days to take this training. It’s pretty far, and I’ll have to stay in a hotel there for several nights. So it means I’ll be gone from Sunday night until Friday night, not next week but in a couple of weeks. It’ll be okay, though, because your Nanna is coming to stay with you and take care of you while I’m gone. That’ll be fun, won’t it?”

“Um, I guess.”

Just then we pulled into the driveway of the little house we were renting. Once I got my promotion and had a bigger salary, I thought, we’ll be able to afford a nicer house in a better neighborhood.

“Let’s talk about it some more inside, sweetie.”

We went in and sat on the sofa together.

“Do you want some ice cream, or anything?” I asked.

“Not now. But can we maybe have some after our bath?”

“Sure we can. That sounds good.” I put my arm around her and squeezed her. “Now, tell me how you feel about having me go away for a few days while Nanna comes to take care of you.”

Jordan looked down at her hands in her lap. “Um, I know it’s good for you to go there for that thing. So I’m glad you can, but… but, Mommy, I will miss you so much!”

When she turned her little face up to me, there were tears brimming in her eyes. My heart just broke when I saw her that way. I grabbed her up in my arms and held her tightly, kissing her face.

“Oh, my baby, my sweet baby girl, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy.”

I was crying now myself.

“It’s okay, Mommy, don’t be sad.” She patted my side. She was consoling me!

I released her from the crushing hug and wiped away my tears with the back of my hands. “I promise you it will be fine with Nanna here. She loves you very much, honey, just as much as I do.”

“I know.”

I held her face in my hands and kissed her cheeks again and again, then her lips.

“But, Mommy?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Will Nanna take a bath with me every night?”

I smiled at her. “I don’t know, baby, but she might. I can ask her for you. Would you like her to take a bath with you?”

She nodded. “And will she, um, will she let me cuddle with her in bed at night like I do with you?”

“Well, that I’m not so sure about. Maybe. But probably not as much as you and I do. The kinds of things we do, well, we’re much closer than most mommies and little girls usually are. Or nannas and little girls.”

“Okay.”

I hugged my daughter once more, but this time not quite so tightly. “Thank you, sweetheart, for being so understanding about this. It really is an important thing for me to do.”

“I know.”

“Do you want to go take our bath now, and then have some ice cream?”

“Sure!”

*   *   *

Three weeks later, my return flight arrived at the Spokane airport at 2:15 on a Friday afternoon. As I put my luggage in the back seat of our old used car at the long-term parking lot, I heaved a sigh, then smiled. I was worn out but very pleased with myself.

Our intensive training schedule had concluded that morning, with two dozen students from all around the country, including me, being awarded certificates. I was the youngest among them. Most of the others were in their 30s, and a few were in their 40s. I was also the only one in the class without a college degree. Yet, at 25, I was on my way to a successful career.

I’d started four years earlier as a teller trainee at the credit union. Before long, I was promoted to cashier, and a year ago, I’d become head cashier. It was not just because I had a head for numbers, but also because I was good with people, a natural manager. Mainly, though, I thought to myself, it was because I was so dedicated to my job.

The other cashiers and tellers too often seemed distracted with boyfriend gossip, with personal issues, or with idle conversations about what to do on the weekend or where to shop for clothes. I stood out because of my steady focus on my work. The branch manager could sense that I was someone she could count on to be disciplined and responsible.

Now I was in line to become the next assistant manager and someday after that, perhaps, to manage my own branch office. It gave me a thrill to know how well I was doing. Soon there would be more money for Jordan and me. We could live somewhere nice, maybe get a new car, take real vacations together.

I’d missed my daughter a great deal during the five days I was away from her. We had talked on the phone at least once a day, but I longed to be beside her again, to see her pretty face, to touch her soft skin, to cuddle with her in bed at night.

That made me wonder how things were going between Jordan and my mother. When I’d called, my mom always said everything was fine. I hoped that was true.

I hadn’t been able to see my mother very much recently. For one thing, she and my father had moved from Spokane to Seattle several years earlier when he’d acquired a new business. And then, about two years ago, after my father had a sudden heart attack and died, she’d taken over running that business, a chain of small grocery stores. It was a lot for her to handle, and I knew she was working 60 or 70 hours a week. That’s why I’d been hesitant to ask her to come. I wasn’t sure if she would be able to take the time.

I really missed my mother. We’d been close when I was growing up. She was only 19 when I was born, and my father was much older — old enough to be her father — and he was always at work, so I didn’t see him very much. My mother stayed home and took such good care of me. She was young and pretty and I adored her.

So I was glad that she’d been willing to take a week off from her work. I was looking forward to talking with her and catching up. She told me on the phone that she’d decided to stay an extra few days with us after I got back, if I didn’t mind. Of course I didn’t mind, I assured her. It would be nice to be together again.

As soon as I pulled into the driveway, the front door burst open and Jordan came racing out. I got out of the car and received the biggest hug I think I’ve ever had. I picked her up and squeezed her, and she wrapped her little legs around my waist. She kept kissing my face all over, saying, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!”

I knew I was loved and that I had been missed.

I finally put her down and we went inside, holding hands. I gave my mother a hug and thanked her once again for coming to take care of Jordan.

“Oh, it was great,” she said. “We had all sorts of fun together, didn’t we, darling?”

Jordan nodded, smiling happily, and took her Nanna’s hand too.

“In fact,” continued my mother, “that’s something we should talk about. But why don’t you go put your things away and change your clothes if you want. Then we can talk.”

“Talk about what?” I asked. “Did something happen while I was away? Did anything go wrong?”

I looked down at Jordan, but she seemed perfectly fine.

“Nothing bad. Just… there are things we need to talk about. But you get settled in first, like I said, maybe change out of your business suit, and relax a little. Would you like something to drink? A glass of wine?”

“Yes, I suppose that would be nice. Okay, I’ll be right back.”

I took my luggage and my briefcase into my bedroom and left them, figuring I would unpack later. What in the world did my mother want to talk to me about? It couldn’t be anything bad, could it?

I quickly changed into a pair of loose shorts and a comfortable pullover shirt, then went back into the living room.

My mother handed me a glass of chilled white wine. “Here’s to the successful manager trainee,” she toasted.

“I’ll drink to that,” I smiled, and did.

Jordan wrapped her little arms around my waist again before I could sit down. “Mommy, I’m so glad you’re back!”

“I am too, sweetheart. I missed you a lot. Here, sit down next to me.” She and I sat next to each other on the sofa, but then something occurred to me.

“Is it all right if she’s here while we talk?” I asked my mother. “Because she can go play in her room, or outside or something, if…”

“No, she should stay. It concerns her.”

“It does? Is she okay? Did anything happen?” Again I looked at my daughter, but she appeared to be as well as ever, maybe better. She seemed extremely happy.

“She’s fine. Everything’s fine,” my mother assured me. Since our tiny living room had only the sofa, the TV, a bookcase, and a little table, she had brought in one of our two chairs from the kitchen table. She pulled the chair closer to me so she could put her hand on my knee while we talked.

“So, what is it?” I asked impatiently.

As she took a sip of wine, my mother patted my leg and smiled. Then she began, “Okay, I’ll tell you. The first night, last Sunday, after you left, Jordan and I had our supper, and after that we took a bath together, just as you and she had asked. That was nice. I liked doing it. She also asked if she could sleep with me, the way the two of you sleep together.”

“Uh-oh.” I was afraid I knew where this might be going. Some of the things that Jordan and I do in bed together, well, let’s just say it’s not exactly typical behavior between a mother and a daughter.

“So, we got into your bed,” my mother went on, “and she cuddled up to me, and then right away she started putting her hands on, well, you know, on my breasts. She started playing with my tits.”

“Uh-oh,” I murmured again. This could be trouble. But if it was, why was she smiling while she told me about it?

“At first, I wasn’t sure what to think,” my mother said, as she gently caressed my knee. Then she looked over at Jordan, giving her a wink. Jordan smiled.

“You know, she’s just a 7-year-old little girl, she’s so sweet and innocent, but here she is, grabbing my tits and squeezing my nipples, and… well, I have to admit, it felt very nice,” she chuckled.

“It — you mean, you didn’t mind?” I stammered.

That was the biggest reason I’d been concerned about having my daughter spend the night with anyone except me: she is a very affectionate child, and some people might take some of the things she does the wrong way.

But if I understood right, my mother was saying she didn’t mind having her breasts groped by a little girl — in fact, the way she was looking at me now made me think she liked it a lot!

“So, you’re… you’re not upset?”

“No, honey, I’m not upset.” She slid her hand a little bit up my thigh. Her touch was warm. “As I said, it felt very nice. I enjoyed it. We cuddled that way and I let her fondle my breasts and play with my nipples as much as she wanted.”

I shook my head. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

My mother got up from the chair and squeezed in next to me on the small sofa, putting her arm around my shoulders. The sexy hot pink dress she was wearing had silver snaps all the way down the front, but she’d left most of them open above the knees. And when she crossed her legs, the dress split nearly to the top of her tanned thigh.

She sure does have nice legs, I thought to myself. I did too, and I had her to thank for that.

“You know, Stacie,” she said, “it’s been a very long time since anyone has touched me that way, so intimately. Since your father passed away, I haven’t seen anyone else, partly because I’ve been so busy, but also because I just haven’t met anyone I really liked. And frankly, even before your father died, he and I hadn’t had a very active relationship, in that way I mean, for quite a few years. I think now that I just didn’t realize how much I missed that kind of contact, having someone’s hands touching and caressing my body. I wanted that. I needed it. And even if it was just a little girl doing it, my own grandchild, no less, it still felt very good to me.”

I was stunned. I knew how nice it felt for me when Jordan fondled my breasts in bed at night, but I certainly never expected my mother to have the same response.

“So you, you let her play with you.”

I glanced down at Jordan on the other side of me. She was listening intently to our conversation and smiled brightly when I looked at her. I squeezed her hand, which I was holding in mine.

“Yes, I did,” my mother said in a sultry, almost seductive, tone of voice. “I let her touch me and rub my tits and play with my nipples, and I enjoyed it. Oh, did I enjoy it!”

What was — what was she implying? Did something else happen too?

“Well, you know, I, I guess I should have warned you,” I grinned, trying to be nonchalant. “Jordan and I, um, we have these little games we play. It doesn’t really mean anything, but I’m glad it didn’t upset you.”

“But it does mean something, Stacie. It does mean something.” And as she said that, my mother put her hand on my stomach, then slowly slid it up until she was touching my breast!

I wasn’t wearing a bra under my pullover shirt, and as her palm cupped my breast, my nipple immediately became erect. My heart pounded, and I felt sweat beading on my face.

What was happening?! Why was my mother touching me like this — and why was my body responding as though I enjoyed it?!

Continue on to Chapter 2

By Naughty Mommy

The two young girls exchanged position, so that Bambi was standing closer to me and Kelly closer to Angela.

The tall, sexy seductress waited a moment for the room to calm down. Then she slowly reached out a hand to caress my daughter’s cheek. “You are such a perfect, beautiful girl,” she said softly, almost in a whisper.

Kelly’s breath caught and her cheeks grew even rosier than usual.

Angela let her hand drift slowly down, softly, along the neck, across the shoulder, and down the arm. Kelly shivered.

Taking my daughter’s hand and lifting it to her mouth as though to kiss it, she paused, and said, “Thank you for giving me this gift, of allowing me to undress you.” Then she kissed the back of Kelly’s hand, still looking into her eyes.

“It’s okay. Um, I mean, you’re welcome.”

“Thank you, my sweet. Now, let’s start like this.” Angela shifted her legs apart, making room between her thighs where she was seated on the edge of the bed. “Sit down here and let me take off your shoes.”

Kelly turned around and sat between the woman’s legs.

Angela put her hands on my daughter’s shoulders and, arching her own back, rubbed her breasts against Kelly’s back, closing her eyes and licking her lips. Then she opened her eyes again and said, “Okay, lift up your little leg so I can take off your shoe.” She patted Kelly’s right leg, which was obediently raised.

It seemed an awkward position, but Angela obviously had experience at this. She quickly untied the knot, loosened the laces, and flipped the little pink shoe off. After briefly caressing Kelly’s foot through her sock, she slipped two fingers inside the sock and it came off easily too. Again she caressed my daughter’s little foot for a moment, then raised it until Kelly’s slender leg was pointing almost straight up.

“So beautiful,” I heard the woman say, almost to herself.

Angela’s caress now moved down very slowly, over the tight jeans, from ankle to lower leg to calf to back of knee to lower thigh to upper thigh…

A thin high-soprano sigh came from Kelly as Angela’s hand found her bottom and squeezed. I began to wonder to myself, why hadn’t I tried that trick?

Angela’s hand kept moving, but now it was going up her own side to her breast, which she squeezed tightly, almost cruelly, giving it a shake before pinching the nipple hard and moving away. But still moving. I watched her hand slide down, between her own belly and Kelly’s back, and disappear between her legs. Whether her fingers were inside her panties or not, I couldn’t tell, but she definitely seemed to be stroking her pussy for a few seconds before bringing the hand back out again.

She kissed Kelly gently on the neck and said, “That’s a good girl. Now the other foot.”

Nearly the same process was repeated, except this time when Angela’s hand reached my daughter’s bottom, it lingered there a moment or two longer, and whatever she did caused Kelly to squeal much louder than before. And this time Angela did not further stimulate herself, but just gave Kelly a hug and said, “Okay, get up now so I can get those jeans off.”

They both stood up, but Angela immediately knelt at Kelly’s waist. After pausing just long enough to gently kiss my daughter’s smooth, flat stomach, she opened the top button on her tight, low-rise jeans, then pulled down the zipper.

As she started tugging them over the hips, Kelly turned around, making it easier for Angela to get the jeans down, and this left Kelly facing away from the three of us. We all enjoyed the sight of my daughter’s firm young bottom coming into view, covered only by her skimpy panties.

The jeans went easily down from there, and Kelly stepped out of them. As I looked at her, I wanted to touch myself, and following Angela’s example, I did. I slid my hand between my legs and gently stroked my pussy, over the top of my panties.

Bambi saw what I was doing and gave me a little smile.

“You are so beautiful, such a beautiful, perfect young girl,” complimented Angela as Kelly turned around the face us again.

Kelly blushed and murmured her thanks.

Still kneeling, Angela kissed my daughter’s tummy again, while at the same time she slipped her fingers into the waistband of the hot pink panties.

I held my breath as the panties begin to slip down. Lower and lower they went, showing more and more white skin. And then a small tuft of auburn curls appeared, but it was a tiny patch, and just below it, my daughter’s vulva was revealed. Her outer labia were puffy and white, but tinged with pink. I wondered — and I wanted to see! — what she looked like inside.

Angela lowered the panties to the floor, put her hands on Kelly’s hips, and leaned in to kiss her again. But this time, not on the belly. It was flush on the lips, just below the scant growth of pubic hair.

Kelly gasped and I was afraid for a moment that she might faint. But Angela held her firmly and after a few deep breaths, Kelly seemed fine. She was visibly trembling, though, and not because she was cold — it was pleasantly warm in the room — but because she was so aroused.

Getting to her feet, the tall blonde reached behind my daughter’s back and unhooked her bra. She pulled it away, and as Kelly’s pert young breasts with rosy nipples came into view, Bambi and Angela responded in unison, a mother-daughter chorus, extolling with oohs and ahhs how beautiful she was.

“Those — those nipples!” exclaimed Angela.

“Like lollipops!” cried Bambi.

“Yes, like little cherry lollipops,” agreed her mother.

Angela began to reach out and touch one nipple, but then paused. “May I… may I kiss them?” she asked.

I wasn’t sure if the question was for me or Kelly or both. But I had no objection, and Kelly just nodded eagerly.

“Come here, closer,” she said, drawing my daughter over to the bed, nearer to Bambi and me.

Angela sat down again, placing Kelly in front of her. She leaned forward and softly kissed one nipple, then the other. She kissed them both, repeatedly, and we watched them grow stiff and hard, turning an even redder color. Finally, Angela finished by giving each young nipple a gentle lick with the tongue, right at the tip.

Kelly moaned and one hand moved to her crotch. She covered her vulva, not in modesty, but pressed her hand inward, stimulating herself.

Angela turned to me. “Okay, Sharon, now we have one naked girl in the room. Would you like to help Bambi make it two?”

“All right.”

“And you sit here by me so we can watch,” Angela said to Kelly, as she took her free hand and sat her on the bed, their bare thighs touching.

As I got up, I saw Kelly lower her head to rest on Angela’s much taller shoulder. I also noticed that my daughter still had a hand between her legs, gently stroking.

I had no idea how many minutes or hours had passed (I didn’t wear a watch, and my phone was in my purse in the other room), but I marveled that so much had happened in the short time since I had seen an extremely sexy young girl in the mall wearing little black boots with heels, opaque red tights, and a gray and white blouse with a wide black belt cinched around the waist.

Now that same girl was standing in front of me, and I was going to undress her.

I put my hand on her thin shoulder, the same way I had in the mall. But this time, instead of asking her if she was lost, I said, “Is it okay for me to take your clothes off?”

“Yes, please do, Miss Sharon. I want you to see me naked.”

That made my heart race again. I caught my breath, cleared my head, and knelt in front of her. I looked closely at her face.

She was a beautiful child, with a wide mouth, lovely full lips, a tiny nose, and huge blue eyes with long lashes. Her skin was not milky white like Kelly’s, but had more of a peachy glow.

“You’re so lovely,” I told her. “Sometimes I tell my little girl that her skin looks like strawberries and cream, and I think yours looks like peaches and cream.”

“Mmm, I like that,” said Angela from behind me. “It gives me some interesting ideas for later.”

I started with her belt, unhooking it from her tiny waist, and setting it aside. Then I reached down for the little boots. They had short zippers by the ankle, and were easy to remove. Without the boots and the cinching belt, Bambi seemed even smaller, slighter, younger than before. Just a little girl dressing up in big girl clothes. But a little girl with a great deal of carnal experience, of that I was sure.

Next I reached under her blouse for her tights. I felt Bambi’s stomach muscles flutter as my fingers slipped inside the waistband of her red tights. I slowly peeled them down over her legs and let her step out of them. Taking a cue from Angela, I put my hands around Bambi’s ankles and slowly drew them up her legs. She was still so young and slender that I could wrap my hands completely around her legs until I was halfway up her thighs.

The girl trembled as my fingers moved ever so gradually upward, higher and higher, closer to her little pubis, clad now only in a pair of thin white undies. When I reached the top of her thighs, I gently squeezed her legs, then moved my hands around to her waist, pulling her to me and holding her close, letting my hands move to her bottom, where I caressed her tender little cheeks.

“I — I like the way you touch me, Miss Sharon.”

“I’m glad you do, darling, because once you are naked, I want to touch you and kiss you everywhere, all over.”

The 9-year-old girl smiled down at me and licked her lips.

Still on my knees, I reached up and began to unbutton her blouse. Underneath, I found a thin white cotton undershirt that matched her little panties. As I set the blouse aside and looked at her, I thought, This is a child, a little girl — but an incredibly sexy and desirable little girl!

After a short pause to appreciate and be thankful for the incredible opportunity that Angela and Bambi were giving me, I began to lift up the child’s undershirt. She raised her arms for me, and as her sweet, young chest was revealed, I saw that she had only the smallest little bumps, the merest beginnings of breasts.

I was thrilled. I couldn’t believe my luck. I smiled at her, reaching up to caress her cheek, saying, “My little peaches and cream.” I briefly got to my feet and took her face in my hands, kissing her deeply on the mouth. As I did, I reached down and rubbed her little nipples, feeling them start to stiffen under my touch.

I leaned down to her chest, licking her nipples, kissing them, trying to suck them, though they were still not developed enough for that.

Bambi panted and clutched my head, pulling me close to her. I heard her mewling like a kitten, and I wanted to do everything with this little girl, fuck her in every way possible.

Trying to restrain my passion for the moment, however, I finally left off with her tempting nipples and turned my attention to her panties. Now, finally, I would see her — see all of her — see this hot sexy girl naked!

I was hoping, as I very slowly began to pull down her panties, that Bambi’s vulva would still be pre-pubescent. And it was, completely bare, hairless and smooth. I felt my face flush and my pulse racing as I stared at her little slit. No even any peach fuzz yet. I wanted to kiss her there, wanted to pull her lips apart and slide my tongue inside, but I wasn’t sure the time was right for that yet.

Instead, I stood, took the child in my arms, pulled her to me, and kissed her once more on the mouth. As I did, she jumped up, wrapping her bare legs around my waist, and we kissed for a long time that way, tongues exploring. I could feel the heat of her young body against mine.

“Wow…” I heard Kelly sigh as she took in the sight of her mother aggressively kissing a naked 9-year-old girl.

Finally, I set the child down and let her take her place on the bed, sitting next to my daughter. Two naked girls in the room, I thought. I sat down next to Bambi.

I expected that the next thing would be Kelly taking off Angela’s bra and panties, and then Bambi doing the same to me, but again they surprised me.

“Mommy, I want to get you naked now,” said Bambi.

“Okay, baby, go ahead.” Angela slid off the bed and stood in front of her daughter, between Kelly and me.

Bambi reached out and expertly opened the front clasp on her mother’s bra. The bra fell away, letting us see Angela’s beautiful breasts in all their naked glory.

I mentioned before that I think my legs are my strongest point, and I also think my own breasts are one of my weakest. They’re not bad or anything, but nothing special. Just ordinary B-cup breasts with small brown nipples.

Angela’s breasts definitely were something special. Even in her late 30s, which I assumed her to be, they were firm and round, with an upward tilt. The long brown nipples were stiffly erect. I saw no flaws in her gorgeous body, and what’s more, I was nearly certain her breasts were natural, nothing fake or silicone there. Just good genes and an excellent fitness regime, I expected.

Bambi touched her mother’s breasts, one in each hand. She cupped them, squeezing them gently, fondling and caressing them, finally squeezing the long nipples between her little fingers.

Angela, her lips moist and her eyes hooded, was petting her daughter’s shiny blonde hair, murmuring to her, arching her back and offering herself to her child.

The girl leaned in and kissed one of the nipples, licked it all over, top and bottom, coating it with her saliva, then gently bit it with her little teeth.

Her mother groaned in response, arching her back even more, aiming the nipple for her daughter’s waiting mouth.

My own nipples were straining and erect beneath my bra, aching to be touched. I looked at Kelly, and saw that she was holding one of her young breasts in her hands, gently pinching the pink nipple. Her other hand was still between her legs, working faster.

I knew my pussy was soaking wet — it had been ever since Bambi started kissing my neck in the other room — and now I slipped my hand inside my panties to touch myself. I was so aroused by the spectacle of seeing this little girl biting her mother’s nipples that I knew I could make myself come almost immediately.

But I definitely wanted to wait. I was sure — I hoped! — there would be many, many orgasms in the hours ahead of us.

Bambi was teasing her mother, squeezing and kissing and licking her breasts, and almost but not quite sucking on the stiff nipples. I could tell that was what Angela was craving. She did everything she could short of force to guide the long brown nipples between her daughter’s lips. But still Bambi resisted.

“Suck them, baby, suck them…”

“What, Mommy?”

“Suck my nipples!” hissed Angela, almost angrily.

The girl giggled as she took one of her mother’s large, round breasts in both her little hands, gently squeezing, making the nipple stretch out even longer than before. She opened her mouth wide and closed it around her mother’s teat, sucking like a baby on a bottle.

Angela groaned with pleasure and something like relief. “That’s my good girl. Suck Mommy’s nipple. Suck Mommy’s nipple, baby. Suck Mommy’s nipple.” Angela was cradling her daughter’s head in one hand, and the other hand was between her own legs, inside her white panties, obviously rubbing her clit.

On the other side of Bambi, Kelly was making little mewling sounds, like a kitten. I could see that her hand was moving fast between her spread legs. Was she getting close to a climax, I wondered?

Bambi eagerly, hungrily sucked each of her mother’s long brown nipples, going back and forth between them, as Angela continued stroking her hair and masturbating.

Then Bambi drew her face away from Angela’s breasts, squeezed them one last time in her little hands and pinched the wet nipples, then hopped down off the bed and began tugging down her mother’s panties.

As the woman’s vulva came into view, I was surprised to discover that it was completely free of hair. It had either been closely shaved or, more likely, waxed very recently. Not only that, but her taut body was completely bronzed, every inch. There was not a tan line in sight, on her back, her bottom, her breasts, or her crotch. Again, I concluded that Angela (or her husband?) must be quite wealthy, able to afford the finest salons and personal care.

I glanced over at my daughter, and saw that her eyes had gone wide at the sight of Angela’s hairless pussy and all-over tan.

As Bambi pulled Angela’s panties down to the floor, and her mother stepped out of them, the little blonde child, still kneeling, gazed up at her. “Mommy, I love you,” she said.

Angela smiled, “I love you too, darling, very much.”

Bambi’s hands were on the back of Angela’s smooth, toned calves. She was gently stroking them up and down. She continued smiling up at her mother, and then, very slowly, ran her little hands up her legs, starting at her calves, then past her knees, up the back of her thighs, until she reached her ass. She clutched the woman’s tanned buttocks and squeezed, kneading the warm flesh.

Angela smiled down at the little girl, her face only inches away from her vulva. The woman took her large breasts in her hands and massaged them, pinching the nipples.

Kelly was whimpering more loudly now, and I was certain that she was close to an orgasm. My own pussy was very wet, but I was so mesmerized by the sight of this child sensually caressing her mother’s naked body that I had almost stopped masturbating.

As Bambi continued squeezing Angela’s buttocks, I could see that she was staring at the woman’s pussy and licking her lips. Was she actually going to kiss her there? Or lick her?

The answer to the first question was yes, but to the second question, no, at least not yet anyway. She raised up on one knee and softly kissed her mother’s bare vulva, the child’s lips meeting her mother’s pussy lips. She kissed her there again and again.

Angela sighed in satisfaction and smiled down at her daughter, as she continued squeezing her own breasts. After several more kisses, Bambi stood up and stepped away.

Looking toward my daughter, she said, “Okay, your turn now.”

“With — with your mother?” Kelly asked.

Bambi laughed, “No, not with my mother. With your mother. Get her naked the way I did with my mommy.”

Now my pussy juices were really flowing. My face felt flushed and my heart was beating madly. Was this all a dream? A wild sexual fantasy I’d concocted in my sleep after seeing my nubile daughter half-naked in the dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?

But no, it was not a dream. It was real. It was actually happening.

“Go on,” instructed Bambi.

Kelly swallowed, then meekly nodded, “Okay.”

My 12-year-old child came to stand in front of me. I reached out for her, pulling her close, hugging her.

“Oh my baby, my darling, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Mommy,” she whispered in my ear. “Is it — is it okay for me to do this?”

I held her at arm’s length, my hands on her bare shoulders. She was naked in front of me.

“Yes, it’s okay, it’s perfectly fine, if it is what you want to do,” I assured her, looking into her beautiful green eyes.

“Um, is it what you want?” she asked.

I smiled and nodded, “Yes, my darling girl, it is what I want. I want it very much.”

“Okay, good,” she grinned, “because so do I!”

We ended the hug, and I stood, turning around to let her unhook my bra. She had a little trouble at first, but then got it.

I turned back around, facing her and the others, letting the bra fall away.

Kelly stared at my breasts. “Mommy…” she whispered, reaching out and touching one of my stiff nipples.

I groaned with pleasure as I felt her touch me.

She tenderly caressed my breast, then reached for my other breast with her other hand. She had both hands on my breasts. She held them, fondled them.

My nipples were achingly erect. “Kiss — kiss them!” I begged.

My daughter leaned in and gave the softest, gentlest kiss to my left breast.

“Suck on it,” I whispered.

She began sucking, and I moaned as my knees went weak. I wasn’t sure for a moment if I could remain standing.

Continue on to Chapter 4

By Naughty Mommy

They gave the underthings back to Kelly, and she replaced them in the bag.

“Is that all?” asked Angela. “Just the bras and panties, or did you get some other things too?”

“Well, we,” my daughter blushed, “um, we got another pair of, um, panties and a bra, but I, I’m wearing them.”

“You are?” The woman cocked her head as she studied Kelly’s body, making no effort to hide the fact that she was picturing my 12-year-old girl in her scanty underwear. “Ooh, how sexy!”

Our conversation became slightly less scandalous for the next few minutes. I asked Bambi what grade she was in, what her favorite subjects were, what kind of grades she got, and so on. She told me she was in the 4th grade, she liked recess and lunch best, and she got all A’s.

Angela smiled proudly at her child, but I noticed that she also kept glancing at Kelly, running her eyes up and down her body.

I was only taking small sips of my wine as we chatted. It was amazingly good and, I assumed, very pricy, but I did not want to get tipsy before driving home. I figured we would stay a few more minutes, then we would get going, and this time we would not be deterred.

But just as I took what I expected to be my last sip of the delicious white wine, and started to set my still half-filled glass down on the expensive-looking coffee table, little Bambi handed her glass of Coke to her mom and bounded over to me, hopping onto my lap.

She threw her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. “Please don’t go, Miss Sharon! You were so very very nice to help me, and I like you so much, and I want to be friends! Please don’t go!”

“Oh, honey, honey, I…” I patted her back, then gently tried to remove her arms from around my neck. But she would not let go.

“Please don’t leave us! I want you to stay and be friends!”

“Bambi, now please, dear.” Angela quickly came over to sit next to me on the luxuriously embroidered sofa.

She stroked her daughter’s arm. “Darling, don’t worry, I’m sure Kelly and Miss Sharon want to be your friends. They won’t leave right away if we just ask them nicely. I think they wouldn’t mind staying just a few minutes longer.”

“Well, I,” I began, “I guess…”

Angela patted my bare knee, and as she did, she managed — was it deliberate? — to push the layers of my skirt a few inches further up my thigh. She winked at me and said, in a stage whisper, “She just loves making new friends and can’t ever bear to see them go. A few more minutes won’t hurt.”

I nodded back at Angela, agreeing to say a short time longer.

The woman raised her hand from my leg to her daughter’s little bottom. She fondled the girl’s buttocks, squeezing them in a way that seemed decidedly un-motherlike to me. “There, now, my sweet little girl, they’re going to stay. Aren’t you glad? Won’t you say thank you to Miss Sharon?”

Bambi suddenly started kissing me on the neck, while whispering, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Her hands began caressing my shoulders, and although she was just a little girl, her grip was strong. It felt almost like the work of an expert masseuse, as if she had been trained to give sensual pleasure.

At the same time, Angela got up and went back to where Kelly was sitting. The woman sat on the arm of the chair, parting her legs slightly, her dress hiking up over her firm, tanned thighs. She placed her hand on my daughter’s shoulder and asked, “You don’t want to go running off right away, do you, sweetheart?”

“Well, I… I guess not.”

“I’m so glad. You’re such a beautiful young lady, and I would love to get to know you better.” Angela’s hand slowly moved from Kelly’s shoulder to her neck, where she gently caressed her.

I could tell that Kelly was feeling nervous and uncomfortable. I wasn’t at all sure what was going on, but it certainly did seem strange. I thought I should stop it, and yet — and yet, the way Bambi was kissing my neck and massaging me felt so delicious, so perfect, I couldn’t find the strength to push her away.

Instead I found myself putting my arms around her, rubbing her warm back, and cooing, “There now, precious, that’s my good girl.”

I gave Kelly a quick look, trying to reassure her that we would go along with this nutty game for just a few more minutes, and then we would leave.

But Kelly wasn’t looking at me. She wasn’t looking at anything. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on the back of the chair.

Angela was using both hands now to massage my daughter’s neck and shoulders. “That’s right, you just relax now, darling,” I heard her say.

She whispered something else to Kelly, so softly that I couldn’t hear, and then, as I watched, she leaned in and gave my daughter a gentle kiss on the cheek.

I began to panic. Was this woman attempting to seduce my little girl, right in front of me? How dare she!

In my mind, I was prepared to stand up, to shout in protest, to take Kelly firmly by the hand and leave immediately.

But that was only my mind. My body, which was responding quite happily to Bambi’s caresses and kisses, and my lust, which was growing stronger and more passionate by the second, were making just the opposite argument.

That part of me, my lust, my libido, was intensely excited by what was happening, utterly thrilled by it!

I wanted to have this sexy little girl, this 9-year-old woman/child continue touching me and kissing me. I wanted her to go even further! And I also wanted to see my own little girl, my hot 12-year-old daughter, engaged in a passionate embrace with a mature, beautiful woman like Angela.

“… lovely girl … beautiful skin …” I could hear just snatches of the conversation between Angela and Kelly “… 7th grade … health class …”

I was torn. I wanted two separate things, one that I knew was right — to get up and leave — and one that I knew was wrong, or that seemed to me like it should be wrong — to have sex with an underage girl, a child, while watching my own daughter have lesbian sex with this beautiful blonde woman.

“… they match … they’re pink …” and then I heard “… let me see them …”

Oh my god, what was Angela doing? Was she…?

It was hard for me to see much, because Bambi’s sweet kisses, so warm and soft on my neck, were now moving to my cheeks. She held my face in her little hands and kissed me all over, murmuring something or perhaps just purring in pleasure. All over my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my eyes, my chin, my lips…

But there, just across from me, did I actually see Angela raising my daughter’s crop top, and pulling it over her head? Did I see Kelly lifting her arms, allowing Angela to remove her shirt? Is that what I saw?

Did I catch a glimpse of Angela looking at Kelly’s hot pink WonderBra, complimenting her on it, and then Kelly raising her face to Angela, smiling brightly at her, and — and was Angela touching my daughter’s cheeks, telling her how pretty she was? Was she bringing her own mouth down to — to kiss my daughter’s lips?!?

But how could I possibly find the willpower to stop this from happening? Did I even want to stop it? How could I ever get up and protest when Bambi’s lips… her lips… felt so heavenly on mine?

She was kissing me. This darling child, this 9-year-old little girl, this magical blonde sylph with blue eyes I could lose myself in forever, was kissing me deeply, wetly, her mouth on mine, her warm tongue exploring, teasing, tantalizing me.

I gave in all the way. Instead of just hugging Bambi, I began to stroke her urgently with my hands, expressing my need, my desire, my wanton lust.

I ran my hands up and down her back, and then to her bottom — I squeezed her ass cheeks the way her mother had, the way a lover touches her lover (could it be???) and as I did, Bambi responded. She arched her back, pressing herself into me. I felt her flat little chest against my breasts, and I wanted there to be nothing between us. I wanted her skin on my skin. She began thrusting her pelvis, grinding herself into my lap, as if trying to burrow her way inside me.

God, I wanted this girl. I wanted to have her, to take her. I wanted her to have me. I wanted her to suck my nipples, and I wanted her to lick my pussy, and I wanted her to fuck me with her little fingers. And I wanted more. I wanted to see her naked, to look at her hairless pubis, to part her puffy little lips with my fingers and put my tongue down there. I wanted to lick her virgin vagina and suck her little clit and make this dewy child come in my mouth!

What about my daughter? Was she still enjoying Angela’s affections, or had she changed her mind?

I thought to myself, if Kelly is unhappy, if Kelly wants to leave, then we will leave. She comes first.

But that did not seem to be an issue at the moment.

As I separated myself briefly from Bambi’s sweet mouth so I could look over at the other two, what I saw was Kelly slowly unzipping Angela’s dress. The seductress was perched on my daughter’s lap, and she was looking over at Bambi and me with hooded eyes, a gaze that expressed both passion and deep satisfaction.

Kelly smiled to herself and licked her lips as she finished pulling the zipper down. She raised her hands and pushed the blonde’s dress off her shoulders, watching it fall to her lap. She seemed to inhale deeply as she ran her hands gently over Angela’s lightly freckled back, and then, I saw her lean forward and kiss and lick — yes, lick! — the older woman’s bare skin.

Angela shivered when she felt my daughter’s mouth on her back. She clutched at her breasts and squeezed them through her bra. I could see her pinching her nipples hard.

Then something else took place.

Angela appeared to make a decision. She got to her feet, stepping out of her dress, and turned to Kelly, extending her hand. Kelly accepted it and stood up. The two of them came over to us.

Angela put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Bambi pulled away from me, sitting up. Her little face was flushed and sweaty. Her lips were wet from kissing and red with my lipstick. It occurred to me that my own mouth must be a mess, with lipstick smeared all around. But then I realized, no, that’s not a bad thing; it’s how a lover looks after she kisses her lover. That actually made me smile.

“Come, my children. Let’s go in to the bedroom.”

Bambi obediently climbed off my lap. Taking one of my hands, with Angela taking the other, they raised my to my feet.

Bambi led the way. I followed her, Angela was behind me, and Kelly followed Angela. We all held hands as we went to the next room.

It was a huge, high-ceilinged bedroom, filled with beautiful ornate furnishings, apparently all antiques. The bed, on the right, was very large, even bigger than king-size. Where did they get the sheets for it, I asked myself — and then I answered myself that in a luxury suite like this, everything could be made to order for guests who could afford to pay any price.

Ahead of us was a giant bay window, heavily curtained, admitting only a sliver of sunlight, leaving the room dimly lit, lending it a dusky, romantic ambience. I suddenly remembered noticing those big curved windows, way up at the top of the building, and now I knew what they looked like from the inside.

To the left was a bathroom, or maybe a bathroom suite would be a more accurate description, because it appeared to contain several rooms. In the center I could see a large jacuzzi-type tub, and I found myself wondering, is it big enough to fit four women at the same time — or, should I say, to fit two women and two girls? I hoped we would find out.

Scattered around the room were various other pieces of expensive-looking furniture, but Bambi ignored everything else and headed straight for the bed — which was already open, apparently in anticipation of activity.

The little girl indicated that I should sit down, and then she directed her mother to sit next to me.

“First you kiss,” she said, pointing to Angela and me, “while we watch. And then we’ll kiss while you watch. Okay?”

Bambi looked over at Kelly as she asked this question, and my daughter nodded eagerly. She seemed quite excited about the prospect of seeing her mother kiss another woman.

Before anything else could happen, however, I reached out and took my daughter’s hand. “Are you okay with this?” I asked her. “Is everything all right?”

“Uh-huh,” she beamed, her eyes joyful. “Fine!”

Angela put her hand over ours, where I was holding Kelly’s. “That’s nice,” she said. “I like that you’re always checking on each other. No one should ever be expected to do anything that doesn’t make them happy.”

I noticed Bambi nodding in agreement

“Right, sweetie?” asked Angela.

“Right, Mommy. Now please start kissing.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you say.”

Angela turned toward me. I was still fully clothed, but she was wearing only her bra and panties: white, lacy, and sheer, a matching set. Top quality, I was sure, and very expensive.

“Wait,” I said, putting my hand up. “Let me get as comfortable as you are.”

Not waiting for a response, I quickly pulled my loose top over my head and tossed it aside, then stood and shimmied out of my skirt. It had an elastic waistband and came off in a jiffy. I stepped out of my flat shoes, and then I was clad in just a black bra and panties. They were matching (I thanked myself inwardly for being a stickler about that), and stylishly sexy, though no doubt far less pricy than our lovely hostess’s.

“Go, Mom!” approved Kelly as Bambi clapped and Angela smiled at me, rubbing her hands together.

“Now,” I asked, grinning, as I sat down on the bed next to Angela, “where were we?”

“Right here,” the woman purred, sliding an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to her. Just before her mouth met mine, she paused, her lips parted and wet, to glance into my eyes. Then she looked down at my mouth and began devouring me.

As I mentioned earlier, I don’t get the chance to have sex, especially with women, nearly as often as I would like. It’s really only been a handful of times in the ten years since my divorce. The few women I have bedded have generally had even less experience with lesbian sex than me, so I’m still something of a beginner.

However, as soon as Angela started kissing me, I knew I was in very expert hands. Her kissing was amazing. It was like having sex mouth to mouth. She would taunt and tease with her tongue, then plunge in deeply, making me shiver with excitement. Her full lips toyed with mine, nibbling them, sucking them, until I wanted to open myself up in every way possible to her.

It sounds ridiculous to say this, but I was so caught up in the exquisite sensations of being kissed by that beautiful, sexy woman that I momentarily lost all sense of where I was. My eyes were closed, of course, and the room was quiet. I had no idea how much time was passing, what day it was, or even where we were. All I wanted was her. Her mouth and her body.

My hands were on her warm back, clutching, kneading, almost pleading for her to give me more, and to take more from me. As her tongue bathed mine in hot caresses, I searched for the hook on Angela’s bra, to unfasten it, and release her breasts so my hands could touch them.

But the hook was not in the back. It must be in front. I move my hands around, and —

“No, not yet! Just kissing.”

Startled, I opened my eyes, pulling my mouth away from the blonde’s. It had not been her voice that I’d heard, obviously, but her daughter’s.

I’d totally forgotten where I was and what we were doing. I shook my head, trying to get back to reality.

Bambi repeated. “Just kissing, okay? No more clothes off yet.”

The two girls, Bambi and Kelly, were standing side by side, holding hands. Bambi was still completely dressed, including her little boots, while Kelly was wearing her tight jeans and her tennis shoes, but had her top off.

My slender little daughter looked adorable, at 5’2” and just over 100 pounds, with flawless white skin, big green eyes, curly red hair, and her developing breasts pushed up so invitingly inside the hot pink bra. If there was ever a more alluring 12-year-old girl, I don’t know who she could be. I saw my daughter again at that moment the same way I’d seen her inside the dressing room — as a sexual creature that I wanted, very badly.

I think Kelly realized this time, for the first time, what my look meant. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t look scared. In fact, she smiled at me, somewhat coyly, even flirtatiously.

“Hey, remember me?” It was Angela.

I shook my head again. So easy it was for me to float away in any direction. Had the woman put something in my wine?

I looked back at her. She held my face in her hands, admiring me. She kissed me on the cheek, on the nose, on the forehead, on the eyelids, on the chin, on the lips. I was ready for, and would have welcomed, another long, wet session of her kisses. But this time she only kissed my mouth two or three times before stopping and pulling away.

She leaned back on one arm and raised the other hand to her chest, caressing her large breasts through the thin brassiere. It was transparent enough that I could see her brown nipples, and when she fingered them they grew erect, poking out through the material.

“Do you want me, Sharon?” she asked. “Do you want my body?”

“Oh, yes, very much.” My gaze kept shifting from her eyes to her mouth to her nipples, which she continued to fondle.

Angela reached out and took her 9-year-old daughter’s free hand. “And do you want my little girl?”

I looked over at Bambi, the child I’d found lost in the mall not more than an hour ago. She still seemed like a little girl. But the way she had kissed me earlier and pressed her thin young body against mine — those had certainly not been the actions of an innocent. I looked at her mother and back at Bambi and I had a vision of the two of them in bed, making love. Could it be?

I turned back to Angela. “Again, yes, I do. I want her very much. I want both of you. I want you and I want your daughter.”

“Then you may have both of us. You can do anything you want with us, together or separately. Anything.”

My pulse pounded as I imagined the possibilities.

“But first, let’s watch while our daughters kiss each other, all right?”

Now Kelly’s eyes really went wide. I was almost certain that she had never kissed another girl. Before today I would have said I was positively certain, but the look she’d had on her face as she unzipped Angela’s dress and then leaned in to kiss and lick the woman’s back made me wonder if she had more experience in that direction than I knew.

Kelly had never said anything to me about having an interest in girls. She seemed, to outward appearances, to be your typical heterosexual, early teen variety. But then, to outward appearances, I certainly didn’t seem to be into women either. So, who knows?

The girls started slowly, giggling a lot at first, gingerly touching each other’s faces, but then Bambi seemed to pick up a desire for more, and her kisses were held longer on my daughter’s mouth. Soon the two children were seriously involved, their arms wrapped about each other, lips apart, tongues entwined.

If Kelly had been less adventurous at first, now that things were heating up, she asserted control. Still deep in a kiss, she shifted her feet apart, spreading her legs, and reached down with one hand to grab Bambi’s small ass. Although they stood about the same height, owing to Bambi’s boots, Kelly was three years older and much stronger. She lifted the little girl off her feet, aggressively grinding their crotches together.

“Whoa, okay, hold it, you two,” said Angela, “before you set the room on fire.”

The girls broke apart, still holding hands tightly, and everyone laughed.

I studied Kelly’s face. She glowed, alive with the passion she was experiencing. I glanced at her crotch, wondering if she was as wet as I was, and whether I could see any evidence of it.

Bambi finished wiping her little mouth and said, “Mommy, I want to watch you take off Kelly’s clothes.”

Kelly’s eyes lit up in anticipation.

Angela turned to me. “Okay, Sharon?”

“Yes, please, go right ahead.”

“Okay, Kelly?” asked Angela.

My daughter nodded excitedly, almost bouncing off her feet.

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Naughty Mommy

When I first saw her, I was surprised by the way she was dressed.

A blonde girl, perhaps 10 or 11 years old — close to the same age as my own daughter, but maybe a year or two younger — wearing short black boots with heels, opaque red tights, and a gray and white patterned blouse that came to just below her little bottom. She had a wide black belt around her waist, over the shirt.

It was a sexy outfit and it immediately caught my attention. I was surprised, however, when I realized how young the girl was. Her clothing seemed better suited to a girl of 15 or 16, or even 21.

Then I noticed the way she was behaving: pacing back and forth, her hand to her mouth, frowning, glancing around anxiously, appearing as if she might be ready to cry. I wondered if she was lost.

My daughter Kelly and I were leaving a Victoria’s Secret store at the shopping mall when we saw the child.

Kelly is 12 years old, in the 7th grade. I had just finished buying her three new sets of bras and panties, the more adult kind that she was now developing the figure to wear. This was the first time I’d allowed Kelly to choose a sexy grown-up type of underwear instead of the little girl things she’d worn previously. She was thrilled and kept grabbing my arm and squeezing it as she thanked me profusely.

She had even insisted, after we paid for the stuff, on going back to the dressing room and changing into one of the sets — a hot pink push-up bra and panties — and wearing them out of the store (under her clothes, of course). I thought it was very cute of her, and the attractive teenage cashier in the store seemed amused by it too.

I must admit, though, there is a deep dark hidden part of me that was more than just amused by Kelly’s excitement. I was also secretly aroused by it.

She had not let me go into the dressing room with her while she was trying things on, but called me in to take a look at her in each new set when she was ready. And when I looked at this nubile girl wearing just a skimpy little bra and panties over her blossoming figure, I was instantly turned on. I felt a warm wetness starting between my legs as I stared at her in her sexy underthings.

It shocked me that I could find my own daughter’s body to be sexually arousing, but that’s what happened. I looked at this lovely young girl’s slim, shapely legs, her tiny waist, pert breasts, curly red hair, green eyes, and perfect pale rosy skin, and I was almost overcome with desire.

That’s what startled me. Not that I could find a girl in her underwear so exciting — I knew that from plenty of experience in looking at online pornography — but that seeing my own child dressed that way would fill me with lust. My own daughter!

Some background: I’m a single mom, bisexual, and while I tend to go out with men more often than women, I definitely prefer having sex with women more than men. It’s gotten to the point where I tell myself I should just admit I’m a lesbian and stop pretending. But I suppose some part of me thinks it will go better for Kelly if I can at least keep up the image of being straight (I don’t think she knows about my bisexuality; when I date women, I always arrange to meet them somewhere discreet).

I should also mention that I don’t really have sex very often (except with myself, of course). I go out on dates with men only once every few months, and the odds are pretty high against my sleeping with any of them. In the last several years, I have had sex with men only two or three times. I meet up with women less often, only a few times a year, but if I find them at all attractive, and if they show an interest in me, then I will usually try to go to bed with them. Still, that only happens once or twice a year. I wish it could be more, but to keep up appearances, I have made myself refrain from entering into any kind of a steady relationship with another woman.

Anyway, what I felt that day in Victoria’s Secret was very confusing to me. I kept trying to shake it off as my daughter made her choices and we finished paying for her things. However, when Kelly came out of the dressing room, ready to leave, and when I looked at her not as a typical mom sees her kid, but as a lesbian (why not just say it!) would look at a potential conquest, I felt my lust building again.

Kelly was dressed in skintight low-rise jeans, pink tennis shoes, and a dark blue crop top that revealed plenty of her slender torso. Under the jeans and top, I knew, were the racy panties and bra I’d just purchased for her. The push-up WonderBra was doing wonders for her — those little breasts, still only half-developed, were actually showing a bit of cleavage in the scooped neckline of her shirt.

My daughter often dresses that way; most of her friends do too. There is nothing unusual these days in seeing a young teenager, or even a pre-teen like Kelly, attired so provocatively. But this time, for the first time, the way she looked had an intensely arousing effect on me.

I tried to act normal, but my face felt hot as we walked out of the store together. Burning in my mind was the image of a pretty, barely pubescent girl dressed up to look extremely sexy.

So, when we turned a corner and I saw this other cute young girl in her hot little outfit, I was all ready to begin the creation of a wild fantasy about that girl that I could use later that evening in my nightly masturbation session…

But then I realized, first, how young she really was, and I thought to myself, Sharon, wait a minute, are you becoming a pedophile?! And right after that, I noticed the way she was behaving, and I started to become concerned for her. I suppose you might say that my maternal instincts kicked in, supplanting, at least temporarily, my libidinous instincts.

I put my hand on Kelly’s arm and slowed our brisk pace. “Look at that girl,” I said. “Do you think she’s lost?”

“Um, I don’t know… could be, I guess.”

At that moment, the little girl turned our way in her wandering around, and made eye contact with me.

I was struck by how very lovely she was, with big blue eyes, pink lips, and long, shiny blonde hair. Again, I felt my crotch beginning to respond to my perverted sexual desires, and I had to remind myself that this was a child who appeared to be lost. She wasn’t standing there and she wasn’t dressed that way simply for the purpose of providing a fantasy object for me. It looked like she could use some help.

I went toward her and Kelly followed. The girl had stopped pacing and was looking at me. She seemed scared and on the verge of tears.

“Are you all right, honey?” I asked. “Are you lost?”

The child didn’t answer for a moment, just turned to look worriedly each way, her hand again to her mouth. Then she said, “I think maybe I am.” Her voice was small and high-pitched.

“Are you here with someone? Your mother?”

“Um, yeah, but not here, in the mall, I mean. I told her I was going to look around for a while, but now I — I don’t know where I am.”

Her voice started to break and I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her. But because I was a stranger to her, I just placed my hand gently on her shoulder. “It’s okay, honey, we’ll take care of you. Now, where do you think your mommy is?”

“She’s at the hotel. In our room. I just said I was going out for a while and she asked if I knew for sure how to get back and I said yeah but now I can’t. I’m afraid she’ll get mad at me.”

“Oh, I don’t think so, sweetie. Probably she’ll be very happy when you come back safe.” I patted her shoulder and squeezed it softly. She was thin, still just a little girl (despite the way she was dressed), and not yet starting to turn into a young woman the way my daughter was.

“Now, you said your mommy is at the hotel?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you know which hotel? Is it the one here at the mall?”

“I — I think so. I don’t know the name, but it’s on the 22nd floor.”

“Well, the only hotel near here that’s that tall is the Grand Plaza, and it’s at the other end of the mall. We’ll go there, and I’ll bet you can find your mom. You probably just got turned around in this big mall with all these stores and forgot which way to go.”

The girl smiled at me, appearing reassured. I thought to myself, I could get lost in those pretty blue eyes forever. But this is just a child, Sharon! A little girl in the 4th or 5th grade!! I know, I realize that. Still, I can’t help how I feel…

I knelt and took her by the hand. Now I was looking up at her. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Um, it’s Bambi.”

“Bambi, how cute! Well, Bambi, my name is Sharon, and this is my daughter, Kelly.”

Bambi glanced at Kelly and they exchanged tentative nods.

“Now, we’re going to walk together back to the hotel, and then I’ll make sure you find your mom. All right?”

“Okay.” She smiled at me and squeezed my hand.

I stood up and we started walking. I held Bambi’s hand in mine, and Kelly walked on my other side, holding her Victoria’s Secret shopping bag.

It was a long way across the huge mall to reach the exit that abutted the Grand Plaza Hotel. During the 15 minutes that we walked, I learned that Bambi and her mother, whose name was Angela, were in town just for the weekend. They lived in another city several states away. They had arrived earlier that day, done some shopping, and then Bambi had asked to go for a short walk around the mall while her mother rested for a while in their room.

As we entered the palatial lobby of the hotel, Bambi squeezed my hand and almost shrieked, “This is it!!”

“There, you see, precious? I told you that you weren’t really lost. Now let’s go find your mommy.”

The child tugged at my hand as she walked quickly toward the elevator bank. “This is it! This is it!”

I was gratified to see how excited she was about not being lost any more, and I could tell that she really had been quite frightened.

As we got off at the 22nd floor, the top floor, Bambi stepped out of the elevator and looked both ways. I had asked, on the ride up, if she knew the room number, but she didn’t. She seemed sure, though, that she could find the room.

“Where are the Cokes…?” the little girl asked, more to herself than to anyone else. Still holding tightly to my hand, she walked slowly up the hall to the right, then stopped and turned around. “Maybe over there…”

Kelly trotted that way ahead of us and called, “The Coke machine is here!”

“A-ha! That’s it!” Bambi pulled me quickly along behind her, almost running. Stopping briefly at the alcove with the vending machines, she counted off three doors, which I noticed seemed very far apart — how big were these rooms? — and then she stopped in front of 2210, close to the end of the hall.

“Mom?!” She slapped her hand on the door, which opened after a few seconds.

Inside was a stunningly attractive woman, perhaps a few years older than me, but in excellent shape. She wore a low-cut red dress that clung to her figure and showed off her cleavage. The dress was knee-length, and the woman was barefoot, with no stockings. Her long legs were smooth, tanned, and beautiful.

I admired her trim waist and her round breasts, and for a moment I wished that she could have been my date for the evening, instead of the mother of a lost little girl I’d found. If, that is, she was the mother…

That question was answered just as quickly as I’d sized the woman up and appreciated her assets.

“Mommy, I’m back!!” Bambi sprang into her mother’s arms.

The shapely blonde — Angela, evidently — caught the child and hugged her. “Well, of course you’re back, sweetie. Where else would you be?” She held her daughter close, stroking her.

As I was staring at the beautiful woman’s full red lips and imagining myself kissing her, she caught my eye and winked at me. I immediately looked down, blushing deeply.

Bambi turned and pointed to us. “That nice lady helped me get back after I — um, don’t get mad, Mommy, I wasn’t really lost. Just…”

“She was just a little turned around,” I interjected. “It’s a big mall, and she needed a tiny bit of assistance to find the hotel again.”

“Oh, that was so kind of you to help my little girl out with her twisted head. Please, won’t you come in for a minute?”

“No, thank you, that’s all right. We don’t want to bother you. I just wanted to make sure your precious Bambi got back safe. We’ll be on our way now.”

“No, no, I wouldn’t think of it.” Setting her daughter down, Angela reached for my hand and literally pulled me inside the door. “Please come in, both of you, just for a moment, anyway. I really want to thank you properly.”

As Angela pulled, Bambi pushed. Over my protests, they soon had Kelly and me inside and had shut the door firmly behind us. It felt almost as if we were being taken captive!

“There you go, that’s better.” Angela smoothed and straightened her dress, smiling broadly at us. “Now let me introduce myself. I’m Angela Parker. Obviously you have met my daughter, Bambi.”

Angela extended her hand and I took it. She had a firm, warm handshake, which she maintained much longer than I expected.

“I — my name is Sharon. Sharon Cummings.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sharon,” she smiled, still holding my hand. “Cummings… comings…” She winked at me again.

I wasn’t certain what she meant by that, but it made me blush once more. Then Angela, still holding on to my hand, looked over at Kelly. “And this adorable creature, is she your sister?”

“Ah, no, she’s — she’s my daughter. A-Angela, this is Kelly. Kelly, Angela.” I was stammering and continued blushing as the tall blonde put her other hand over mine and squeezed it warmly. She didn’t try to shake Kelly’s hand but gave her a once-over look that I was sure I recognized.

It was the same look I’d given to her daughter, Bambi, when I first saw her in the mall, and it was the way I’d looked at Angela when she opened the door. It was a look that contained a frank physical appraisal, sizing up a potential sexual partner, or at the very least the object of a future fantasy.

I didn’t think I liked the way this woman was looking at my little girl — first at her face, then her chest, at the wide band of skin showing between her top and jeans, then to her legs, and to her crotch (!) before returning to her face — until I realized that I had looked at my own daughter in almost the exact same way not long before that in the Victoria’s Secret dressing room.

Now I was really shaken. In the space of an hour, two grown women had looked at my 12-year-old child with carnal intent. And I was one of those women!

“But she can’t be your daughter.” Angela protested. “Unless you had her when you were about 10 years old.” She laughed, and I smiled.

“That’s how old I am, Mommy,” Bambi piped up.

“Not quite, sweetie, you’re still only 9, but you’ll be 10 next month.”

“No, she — I mean, I — um, sorry, she is my daughter. And that’s flattering, but no, I — I’m not that young. I, well, I’m 34. I was, um, 21 when Kelly was born.”

Kelly must have noticed the way I was blushing and stammering. She frowned at me, shaking her head slightly, as if I was crazy.

“Well, you sure look like you could be sisters,” continued Angela. “But now, come in, sit down for a minute and let’s get acquainted.”

“No, really, we should go…” But as I demurred, she was pulling me forward again, since she still had not let go of my hand.

It was then that I looked around and discovered that we were not in any standard kind of hotel room, but in an extended suite. Angela was taking us from the foyer into a large and tastefully appointed living room. There were also at least two big bedrooms that I could see. I pondered how much a room — no, a suite! — like this would cost, and I got the idea that she, or her husband, must be very well off indeed.

Reluctantly, and after much insistence, Kelly and I finally gave in and sat down.

I was wearing a light, swishy, mid-calf skirt that day with three gauzy layers. My legs were bare, with no nylons. Although they’re not as long or as stunning as Angela’s, my legs are not bad at all. I consider them my best feature and, given how attracted I was to Angela, I was eager to let her get a good look at them. I found myself flirtatiously hiking the layers of my skirt well above my knees.

Kelly looked at me again with disapproval, no doubt wondering what had come over her mom.

“Now, what can I get you to drink?” Angela asked.

I started to get up. “No, please, we—”

But quickly and firmly I was pushed back down. Now Kelly turned her mystified look toward Angela. This behavior did seem a bit odd.

“I insist. No arguments. You went out of your way to do a great service to my little girl, and the least I can do — the very least I can do — is offer you a refreshing drink. So, what would you like? Wine? Champagne? Scotch? Maybe a martini?”

Resigned to the situation, I replied, “Well, maybe just a small glass of white wine, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Of course it isn’t, not at all. And how about you, pretty girl?” Angela asked, turning to my daughter.

“Um, a Coke?”

“That’s what I’m having!” chirped Bambi.

“Okay, baby-cakes, you get the Cokes for yourself and darling Kelly, while I open up a bottle of wine.”

“Oh, but you don’t have to…” I began.

Angela turned sharply toward me, her hands on her shapely hips. “Now what did I just say? No arguments. Remember? ”

“Yes, okay. You’re right.” I cringed comically and glanced over at Kelly, rolling my eyes a little bit. She just shrugged.

A minute later, all four of us were seated and enjoying our beverages. I was on a comfortable sofa, showing off my legs. My daughter was in an overstuffed chair across from me. Bambi was on the floor between us, drinking her Coke. I noticed that she kept glancing up at my bare legs, apparently enjoying the view.

Angela pulled a chair up next to the one my daughter was in. She sat down, slowly crossing her long legs as she looked at mine. Then she raised her glass, smiled at me and said, “Cheers!” I smiled back and briefly raised my glass.

The woman looked down at the Victoria’s Secret bag between Kelly’s feet. “What’s in the shopping bag, honey? Did you and your extremely young-looking mother” (she winked at me) “buy some pretty things today?”

“Um, yeah,” my daughter answered. “I, um, she, I mean, my mom got me some, uh, some new bras and undies.”

“Oh, how nice. Can I see them?”

“Okay.” Kelly leaned over and reached into the bag, bringing out a lacy white matched set of bra and panties, and another set with pink and white stripes.

“Aren’t they beautiful!” Angela took the little white bikini panties from Kelly and held them up, admiring them. “Look, Bambi, these are gorgeous, aren’t they?”

The child crawled over for a closer look. Taking the pink and white striped bra from Kelly’s lap, she held it to her own chest, as if imagining herself wearing it. “I don’t think this’d fit me yet.”

“No, probably not,” chuckled Angela, “your little boobies still have to grow some more.”

And as she said this, she reached out and pinched her daughter’s chest, squeezing the girl’s nipple and tiny breast between her fingers. Bambi giggled and pulled away.

I couldn’t believe Angela had done that! I was appalled — and yet, at the same time, I was curiously intrigued by this overtly sexual woman and her precocious little girl. What would they do next?

Kelly seemed astonished too. Her eyes were wide, but I detected a hint of a smile as well, the first she had shown since we came into the hotel room. Perhaps, I thought, she was as intrigued by these two as I was.

Continue on to Chapter 2

By Naughty Mommy

Amanda hopped quickly over to her single bed with the Cinderella coverlet and sat cross-legged. She was wearing faded blue and pink pajama bottoms and a Little Mermaid t-shirt.

“Okay, I think this will work best if we both are, um… naked. All right?”

Her eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yes, well, you want me to show you, right? And, usually, when a person masturbates they’re naked, or, at least, I mean, it’ll be easier for you to see that way. And then if you’re going to try, and you want me to watch and make sure you’re doing it the right, or, I mean the best way, then you should be naked too.”

“Okay.” She shrugged her shoulders and pulled her shirt off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, of course, and I felt an erotic thrill when I got a look at my daughter’s little breast buds, still not much more than bumps on her smooth chest. Her nipples, though, were sharply pointed and erect.

Then I watched her take off her pajama bottoms and pull down her Tweety Bird panties and she was nude. There was no pubic hair yet that I could see. I had a hard time tearing my eyes away from her crotch as she sat cross-legged on the bed again, but I finally managed to look up at her and smile.

After taking another deep breath, I undid the sash on my robe and let it slide down my back and fall onto the bed. Now I was naked too. I tried to be unselfconscious as I crossed my legs at the ankles the way she had. I was certain that if Amanda looked she would see the copious wetness inside my slit — but then, that was what we were there for, right?

“Okay, so, let me just start with a couple of things. First, that video you saw at school was right. There is nothing wrong or bad or shameful about masturbating. Just about everyone does it, even if some people try to pretend they don’t.” (For a brief moment I wondered about my own mother: Had she also been masturbating from time to time, even as she warned me about its sinfulness? I put that thought away for another time.)

“Also,” I continued, “every woman does it differently. There’s really no right way or wrong way — it’s just whatever you prefer, whatever seems to give you the most pleasure and satisfaction. All right?”

She nodded. “Okay. How do you do it?”

“I’m coming to that,” I smiled to myself at my accidental double entendre. “Before I start, though… well, I was going to say that if you ever have any questions, you should always feel free to ask me, whatever it is. But you don’t seem very reluctant about that, and I’m glad.”

Impulsively I leaned forward, took her face in my hands, and kissed Amanda on the mouth. It wasn’t a sexual kiss, or at least it wasn’t intended that way. I was just feeling so happy about having her as my daughter and I wanted her to know that I loved her.

I kissed her three times, then leaned back. I could feel my nipples hardening. “Now, are you ready to start?”

“Definitely!” She arched her eyebrows to show me how ready she was.

“Um, let’s see.” I looked down at my chest. My nipples were poking out, almost begging to be touched. “Okay, the first thing is, your whole body is — well, do you know what an ‘erogenous zone’ is? Did they cover that in your class?”

“A what zone?”

“An erogenous zone.” I smiled at her. “You’re so cute. That just means a part of your body that feels especially good when it’s touched. It can mean your breasts or your, um, your crotch, or, for example, your lips…”

As I said that last, I rubbed my fingertips across my lips and saw that Amanda repeated my action. “But there are a lot of places on your body that feel good when they’re touched in the right way.”

I raised my left arm and drew the fingers of my right hand slowly along the inside of it, from the wrist to the armpit. “It can be your arms…” I watched as she copied me. “Or your throat…” I put both hands on the sides of my neck. “Or your chest…” I let my fingers drag slowly down the lightly freckled and sensitive skin of my chest.

“And, of course, your breasts…” I covered my breasts with my hands and gently massaged them, feeling my stiff nipples pressing into my palms. I wondered if this was as arousing to my daughter as it was to me. “Or your tummy…” My hands slid gradually downward, and hers did too.

“Okay, now, spread your legs apart.” I uncrossed my legs and stretched them out. Amanda did the same, putting her slender ankles on top of mine.

“That’s good,” I said, then looked into her eyes. “Are you feeling anything yet? Any sort of… excitement?”

“Um, I don’t know. Kind of.” She pointed at her crotch. “Down here.”

I chuckled. “Good — that’s exactly where you should be feeling it.”

She smiled as I affirmed that she was doing well.

“But still, let’s take it slow. Another erogenous zone is your legs. For some women that includes their feet, although for me not so much. But I do sometimes like to touch myself down here.” I reached forward with both hands, placing them on the insides of my calves. Amanda did the same. “And then, very slowly, very gently, just bring your fingers up…” We moved together, gradually bringing our hands up the inside of our thighs, toward the crotch.

Just before my fingers — and hers — reached the labia, I said, “Now let’s try this. Lick the ends of your middle fingers on each hand and then, very lightly, rub the wetness on the tips of your nipples. How does that feel?”

“It tickles,” she giggled.

“Uh-huh. Now keep doing it. Get your fingers wet again.” She did, and as I watched my 10-year-old daughter stimulating herself sensually, I had a sudden surge of excitement in my cunt, so much that I almost came!

Amanda heard my groan and looked up. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I…” my voice was hoarse with lust. “I… it’s just that… I’m getting… very excited. Do you, do you want to do some more? Maybe watch me, um, give myself… an orgasm?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Okay, so you just watch me for a while. And then after I’m done, you can try.”

I looked into my daughter’s lovely blue eyes for a moment as I licked my lips, then I took my breasts in my hands and squeezed them hard, grunting with pleasure as my fingers and thumbs pinched my sensitive nipples.

“Watch Mommy now,” I whispered, letting my hands slide down over my taut stomach to my mound. I kept my pussy hair closely trimmed but not shaved. I liked how it looked and felt that way.

Spreading my legs as wide apart as I could so that my daughter could see everything, I put my hands just outside of my swollen labia and massaged my crotch. “Mmm, yeah, I’m so wet.” I pulled my pussy lips apart. “Can you see how wet I am?”

Amanda nodded slowly. Her eyes were fixed on my cunt.

I slid one hand into my slit. I knew that if I rubbed my clit right then for even a few seconds, I would come immediately. But I wanted to wait a little longer, to properly show her how it was done. I slowly pressed the middle finger of my hand deep inside my vagina.

“See, a woman can fuck herself with her fingers.” I put another finger inside myself. My daughter’s eyes grew even wider.

“It’s okay, honey, when we’re talking about this with each other, to use words that might seem naughty. So, I can tell you about fucking myself…” I began a slow pumping motion with my hand “…and I can tell you that my pussy is really wet. Okay?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes off my crotch.

“And when you do it later, when you show me, if you want to talk about your pussy, or your cunt, or about fucking yourself, that’s okay too. See, it kind of makes it more exciting sometimes to talk that way. You don’t mind, do you?”

She shook her head.

“Amanda, look at me for a minute.” She lifted her eyes from my pussy to my face, although she took a quick glance down again every few seconds. “I’m fucking myself now. I’m masturbating. This is how a woman masturbates, and in just a minute, Mommy’s going to come. Do you want to watch me come?”

“Y—” her voice caught in her throat “— yeah, I… I do.”

“You like watching Mommy fuck her pussy?” I was moving two fingers in and out now, fast and hard. “You want to watch Mommy come?”

And as I said that, before she could answer, my orgasm hit.

It was the strongest climax of my life.

I screamed, and Amanda later told me that it scared her, but at the time I was unaware of anything else. I also squirted, which had almost never happened with me before, only two or three times. I came over and over again, and each time as I started to calm down, I fucked myself a little harder, and I came again.

This was it. This was without a doubt the most intense sexual experience I could imagine. I had discovered that masturbating in front of my daughter was the greatest possible turn-on for me.

Finally, after what was likely only a few minutes, but what seemed to me like most of an eternity, I had my last orgasm. And then I was able to slowly remove my dripping wet fingers from my cunt, take a few very deep breaths, and open my eyes.

Amanda was staring at me.

“Are you…. okay?” she ventured.

I could only nod and smile at her. I was too spent to say anything.

“Is that,” she frowned, “did you do that earlier today, too? Cuz, I thought I heard you scream sort of like that, before.”

I nodded weakly, then finally found my voice. “Yes,” I confessed, “when I went to my room earlier this morning, I masturbated. And I guess you heard me. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I… I guess I sort of understand now. It seems, like, really, um, intense or something.”

“Oh, it is. It is.” I pulled myself up to a sitting position. During my extended series of climaxes, I’d slid onto my back — which meant that my crotch had moved a lot closer to Amanda, since her bed was only so long. I wondered briefly what that had been like for her, but then I continued the conversation.

“It’s intense, and wonderful, and thrilling, and amazing, and addictive — oops, I can’t believe I said that.” I covered my mouth.

“Addictive…what do you mean?”

“Never mind.”

“No, what does that mean, like, you can’t stop?”

“No, no, I just mean that, it feels so good that once you start you won’t ever want to stop — and that’s okay, because like I said earlier, there’s nothing wrong or bad about it. And it really does feel amazing.”

“Okay,” she smiled. “Can I try now?”

“Yeah, but…” I looked down at her little pussy. “Um, unless you’re, you know, pretty wet, it might hurt a little if you try to put your finger inside. You might need to start again like we did before to get yourself excited.”

“Um, I don’t think I have to. I mean, I don’t know for sure, but…” Using her hands, she spread apart her puffy pink labia. From where I was sitting I could clearly see the gooey gleam of moisture inside.

“Oh, you’re right! It does look like you’re wet enough, so that shouldn’t be a problem. But, um, there’s one other thing that I didn’t show you, which is how to rub your clit, or your clitoris.”

I pulled my pussy lips up and back so she could see my clit. “It’s up here, on top, and it feels really good if you rub it. But be careful, because it’s very sensitive. Sometimes you can just rub around the area, like this, and stimulate yourself. Try it.”

Amanda watched how I was rubbing my clit, or actually the skin around my clit, in a circular motion. She tried it too, and I saw an immediate reaction from her.

“Ooh! Oh!” She flinched every time she moved her fingers in a certain way.

“Now, keep doing that with one hand, and with the other hand, put just the tip of one finger inside your, um, your pussy.”

“Like this?”

“That’s right, honey. How does it feel?”

“It feels good, Mommy. And inside here, it’s really warm, and soft. And wet.” She lifted her finger up to show me her glistening liquids.

“Uh-huh, you’re getting very wet. And if you just keep doing that for a while — what you’re doing right now — pretty soon you should start to feel something different. Something even better.”

I watched as my daughter rubbed her clit with her right hand and poked the index finger of her left hand just inside her vagina. I was doing the same thing myself, and I easily could have brought myself to an orgasm within moments if I’d chosen, but of course I wanted to wait for her.

“Try… try to put your finger in a little deeper, in your pussy, but not too far.”

She pushed it in up to the second knuckle and groaned with pleasure. “It feels good,” she whispered.

“Uh-huh,” I whispered in return, “I like to watch you, baby.” I was getting very close to a climax and had to deliberately slow my movements so I wouldn’t come. “Keep doing it, sweetie, keep doing it.”

She kept it up for a while. Her eyes were closed and I was watching her, looking up at her face and then down at her cunt. After a few minutes, she opened her eyes, and said, “What, um, is it I’m supposed to feel next?”

I smiled. “Well, it’s hard to describe. I guess you could say it’s kind of like a building up of pressure, like inside a volcano, or maybe like a bunch of small waves on a beach that are getting bigger, and you can tell that soon a really big wave will come.”

“I…” she frowned, “I don’t think I can feel that.”

“Okay, um, well for some women different positions work better than others. Do you want to try it another way?”

Amanda nodded.

“All right. One of my favorite ways is lying on my stomach, you know, face down. Here, turn around and lie down next to me.”

We changed positions until we were side by side on the narrow bed, our bodies touching. She looked expectantly at me. There was a glare in my eyes from the lamp by the bed. “Do you want to turn out the light? That might make it a little easier to get in the right mood.”

“Okay.” She reached up and turned off the lamp.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

I’m not sure how it was for her, but for me having the lights out made a big difference. Instead of feeling like I was giving her a lesson, it felt much more like we were being intimate together, almost like we were lovers.

“Now, put your hands under your body, down between your legs. Use one of them to rub your clit, like you were dong before, and use the other one to put a finger just a little bit inside your pussy. But this time, instead of moving only your hands, you can move your whole body.”

I began to demonstrate for her, rocking myself up and down on my hands. “See? See how I’m doing it? You try.”

Amanda started moving that way, awkwardly. She was obviously unsure of herself and I was suddenly afraid that she might become frustrated and would be unable to reach an orgasm. The last thing I wanted was to have my attempts to help her give herself pleasure turn into a discouraging failure.

“Does that feel okay?”

“Um, I don’t know.”

I was sure she was just being nice, because the clumsy way she was moving did not seem at all likely to arouse her. I was desperate to find a way to give her all the sexual joys that I had experienced.

“Let me — can I help you? I’ll just —” Propping myself up on one elbow, I reached out toward my little girl. I put my hand on her bottom. “I — I just want to see where your hands are, sweetie, and see if I can help you. Um, can you, open your legs up a little bit?”

While we’d been lying side by side on the single bed, both of us had our legs together, because there wasn’t much room. But I wanted to reach underneath her and feel where her hands were and what they were doing.

My daughter spread her slender thighs apart for me. I slid my hand beneath her. “Do you, are you putting a finger inside your pussy with this hand?”

“Uh-hmm.”

I leaned in closer to her, sliding my hand further up. My nipples brushed against her back. “And, um, this hand, are you holding it against your clit?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you said to rub that in a circle?”

“Oh, well, when you’re doing it this way you don’t really have to worry about the circle movement so much.”

I was trying to get my hand around hers so I could position her fingers the way I thought would work best. “I — here, move this hand away for a minute, and rock your body up and down like I was. You know what I mean?”

“Like this?”

“That’s right. Now, give me your hand again, and put it… here, and just push yourself up against it.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Well, keep moving your body that way, and I’ll hold my hand where you should put yours, okay?”

And then, without having made a conscious decision to do so, I was having sex with my daughter. I cupped her young vulva in my hand, feeling its soft, smooth, hairless warmth. “Start moving baby.”

She began to rock up and down against my hand. I shifted my fingers just slightly, to put a little extra pressure on her clit.

“Oh, Mommy, that feels good!” She moved faster. Her other hand moved away, and now it was just me stimulating her.

“You like that, honey?”

“Yeah, omigod, it feels amazing!”

As she rocked harder against me, I began to feel slippery wetness on my palm. I leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You’re getting very wet, aren’t you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Your little pussy is so hot. I can feel it. It’s so hot and wet.”

“Oh, Mommy…”

“I love you, Amanda.”

“I love you too, Mommy!”

I turned my thumb inward until it was between her labia, inside her slit. She was very well lubricated. Slowly, I moved my thumb until I was at the opening to her vagina. I began to probe.

She gasped “Oh, Mommy!” and fucked my hand even harder.

I pressed my fingers more insistently against her clit as at the same time I let my thumb begin to slide inside her.

She was moving very fast now and I was sure she had to be getting close to an orgasm.

“Are you going to come, baby? Are you going to come on Mommy’s hand?”

I wanted her to come, and I wanted to do whatever I could to give her pleasure. I pressed my thumb inside her a little deeper.

“Mommy, I—”

“Come for me, baby!”

“I — Ohh!!!!”

Her whole body went rigid for a second and I felt the muscles inside her vagina clamp down on my thumb. Then she shuddered several times and finally groaned, “Oh my god…”

I pulled my thumb gently out of her. She laid on her stomach for half a minute with her eyes closed, breathing heavily. I let her rest.

Finally she shuddered one last time, took a deep breath, and slowly rolled onto her side to look up at me. “Mommy, that was totally amazing! Is that what it’s like for you?”

“Well, yes, I guess it is. Orgasms are always amazing, and that’s what you just had, your very first orgasm.”

“God, it was… I can’t even say how awesome it was.” Her cute little face was glowing with excitement.

I smiled at her. “I know. That’s why I said it can be addictive.”

“Can we do it again?”

My mouth went dry. “Um, again? You mean right now?”

“Yeah! I really want to do that again. Please, can we?”

It was at that moment that I made my choice. The first time I’d helped Amanda reach a climax could conceivably have been classified as an accident, or perhaps as an innocent attempt to give her instruction. But now she was asking me to do it again, to deliberately touch her and caress her with the sole purpose of giving her sexual gratification. And I wanted to.

If I hesitated at all, it was only for a second. Then I said, “Well, I suppose we can, if that’s what you want.”

“Good. Should I lie on my stomach again?”

“Sure, go ahead,” I told her. “That seemed to work pretty well for you last time.”

She turned back onto her stomach and spread her legs apart. I was still sitting up, next to her bottom, and I had a clear view, even in the dim light, of her moist pink pussy. But her hands were nowhere to be seen.

“Are you… are you going to try doing it yourself this time?” I asked.

“No, I want you to do it for me again. That felt great.”

“Well, um… okay.” I felt my face burning with both shame and lust as I leaned over my little girl’s naked body and put my hand down between her legs.

I knew for certain that most people — practically everyone — would say that what I was doing was wrong. But right then I didn’t care. I wanted to make her happy. I wanted to give her pleasure. And more than anything, I was incredibly aroused by it.

Touching my child in a sexual way may have been forbidden, it may have been taboo, but it was also intensely erotic and exciting for me.

“This time, I’m going to do it a little differently, a little more slowly,” I told my daughter as I brushed my fingers over the soft skin of her inner thighs. “I want you to feel the gradual build-up of your excitement.”

“Okay.”

This time, the second time, it was less like I was merely helping Amanda to masturbate, and more like I was making love with her. I let my hand fully explore her vulva, tenderly stroking her pussy lips, reaching up to tease her clit, then sliding back down though her wet slit to dip into her vagina, and as I did this, I gently caressed her long smooth back with my other hand.

“Mommy that feels nice,” she breathed.

I leaned down and kissed her little bottom.

She began moving to my touch, rocking her pelvis in time with the stroke of my fingers in her slit. “Oh god, oh god, Mommy, Mommy,” she moaned.

And as I felt her little pussy getting wetter and hotter, mine was getting extremely wet too. I started using my other hand to stimulate myself. I was hoping I would be able to come at the same time as her. But she seemed to be getting very close very quickly. I rubbed myself harder and faster.

I kissed her bottom again and this time I licked it too. I wanted to lick her everywhere. And when that thought occurred to me, suddenly I found myself on the verge of an orgasm.

Now I had to slow down, but I didn’t have to wait very long. Amanda was rocking against my hand faster and faster. I’d intended to put my finger or my thumb inside her vagina again when she was getting close, but that wouldn’t be easy the way she was moving so quickly now. So I just let her fuck my hand and I leaned down close to her and said, “Are you gonna come, little girl? Are you gonna come on Mommy’s hand?”

“Yeah, I, I, I — OHH GOD!!!!!”

And as she started coming, I started coming too. I didn’t even have to do anything to time it that way. It just happened.

We climaxed together, a shy, pretty 32-year-old woman, and her cute, innocent 10-year-old daughter.

When we were finished, I found myself licking my hands — both hands, tasting not only my own pussy juice, but also my child’s.

I was lying on the bed beside Amanda. Her eyes were closed, and she was still breathing heavily. Her little face was shiny with perspiration. I put my arm around her and kissed her cheek.

Slowly she opened her eyes. “Hi, Mommy,” she breathed.

“Hi, baby,” I whispered. Then I softly kissed her lips.

“That was…” she took a deep breath, followed by a long sigh, “that was even better.”

I smiled at her. “Was it?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “It was, I don’t know, like ten times better than anything ever.”

That made me chuckle. I caressed her cheek and kissed her nose. I love my little girl so much.

“So, what do you think we should to do today?” I asked, raising myself up so that I could see the clock beside her bed. It was just past 12:00. “I know — it’s such a beautiful day, why don’t we drive out to the lake? I’ll make us a picnic lunch. We can do a little hiking and maybe we’ll even rent a canoe.”

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, can we?”

“Sure we can, sweetie.” I hugged her and kissed her cheek again. Then I playfully slapped her bottom. “Come on, let’s get up and get going.”

“Okay,” she giggled.

But as Amanda got up from the bed, retrieving her t-shirt and panties and pajama bottoms from where she’d left them on the floor, put them away in her drawer, and then began picking out some other clothes to wear, I simply stayed where I was for a few minutes, watching her, admiring her perfect little body.

I felt a stirring between my legs and wanted to touch myself again. I wanted to masturbate while I was looking at her. I suppose I could have, since our purpose there had been for her to learn all about self-pleasuring — except if I had, that might have required me to explain why I would find the sight of a nude 10-year-old girl so alluring.

So, finally, I picked up my robe and went to my own bedroom to get ready.

Closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath and thought about what had just happened. It was hard for me to believe, but there was no denying it: I had just finished having lesbian sex with my own daughter. I had held her, touched her, kissed her… I’d rubbed her clit, put my finger inside her vagina, and given her an orgasm. Two orgasms!

The thought of that was enough to make me want to come again. As I’d told Amanda, it really was addictive! And then I suddenly realized something else — I didn’t feel guilty or ashamed about what I’d done with her, not in the least. On the contrary, I felt exhilarated, liberated, emancipated. I felt as if I’d finally allowed myself to become what I was always meant to be: a lesbian pedophile who loved young girls, especially my own little girl!

I turned to face the full-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door and smiled at my reflection. I admired my slender naked body. Not bad, not bad at all. I was tempted to masturbate, give myself a quick orgasm. Then I chuckled to myself. I knew where that would take me… one orgasm leads to another, and then another, and then another… meanwhile, Amanda would be waiting. I’d promised to take her on a picnic.

So, instead of masturbating, I quickly shoved two fingers inside my still-wet cunt, pushing them up as far as they would go. Then I drew the fingers out, raised them to my mouth, and savored the delicious taste of my pussy juice. After that I picked out some clothes and started getting dressed. I knew there would be plenty of time for more orgasms later, both by myself and with my darling daughter.

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Naughty Mommy

“So, Amanda, what did you learn in school today?”

I set a plate of hot spaghetti in front of my 10-year-old daughter, along with another plate at my own place, and sat down next to her. We were eating dinner at the small table in the kitchen, which we normally did, and I began our evening conversation the way I usually did as well.

“Tell me what you learned today.”

Just as typically, Amanda would wrinkle her nose at this request, complaining that she’d learned nothing interesting and would prefer to talk about almost anything else.

But this time she surprised me.

“Oh, I’m glad you asked, Mom, I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what, honey? Do you have a special assignment or something?” I took a bite of green salad, which I’d served with our spaghetti, and waited for her response.

“No, but, um, there’s a question I want to ask.”

“Okay, what is it?”

She twirled a single strand of spaghetti around her fork, along with a bit of sauce, and put it in her mouth. Amanda was not a big eater.

As she began to chew the bite, she said, “Um, in science today, the teacher showed us a video. Only they made all the boys go to a different room and they saw a different video, I guess. You know, one made for boys. Because the one we saw was about girls.”

“About girls?”

“Yeah. It was called, um, Female Health and Reproduction. It told how girls get mature and stuff. You know, all that junk about how babies are made.”

“Right, right, I remember now. They sent a permission slip home a few weeks ago that I had to sign so you could view that. I’d forgotten about it. Was it interesting?”

Now she gave the typical nose wrinkle. “Most of it was boring. Just stuff I already know.”

“Okay, well, if you have any questions…” I’d already begun telling her some things about menstruation and reproduction, based on what I thought was appropriate for her age. I found it very difficult, but still I tried my best.

“I do have a question, though. About one thing they said.” She took another tiny bite of spaghetti.

“And that is?”

“Well, um, there was this doctor in the video, a lady doctor, and she was talking about the sex part, about, you know, um, safe sex and contra… um, contra…”

“You mean ‘contraception’?”

“Yeah,” she giggled. “I was gonna say ‘contradiction’ except I knew that wasn’t right.”

I smiled at her. I loved her cute sense of humor. “But you know what contraception is, right?”

“Well, yeah, the pill, I mean, like, birth control pills, and those things, uh, condoms, and stuff…”

“Okay, good.”

“But the lady doctor said something else too. When she was talking about girls having sex, she said that one way you can have sex is, like, by yourself. You know, masturbating.”

I almost choked on the sip of wine I was about to swallow. This was the first time I’d ever heard my little girl use that word. I took another drink from the wine glass. Not a sip this time, but a gulp.

I gave my daughter a forced smile, doing my best to project a calm demeanor, even though I was feeling very nervous inside. She didn’t seem to have noticed my anxiety, luckily.

“So, um, the video told us that, like, masturbation is normal and healthy and everything. That’s true, right?” She looked up at me.

I took a big bite of spaghetti and used that as an excuse to simply nod my head and not say anything.

“And they showed all these numbers and stuff,” Amanda continued, “where it said that, um, that 90% of grown women masturbate at least once a week.”

She put down her fork and looked up at me again. “Is that true, Mom? I mean, like, do you do it too?”

“Oh, um…” I swallowed my bite and then carefully cleared my throat, stalling for time while I decided how to answer her.

“Yes, honey, I suppose it is true. I imagine that nearly all women masturbate… uh, some maybe more than others, but sure, yes.”

“But — do you?”

“Well, yes, like I said, I think just about everyone does.”

“Really?”

I nodded my head, trying to be nonchalant about the issue, to behave like I thought an adult ought to behave and to be a good parent to my growing child. I use the word trying, however, because it wasn’t easy staying cool. Amanda’s question made me feel extremely anxious inside.

When I was a girl, my mother had taken a strict, shame-based approach toward sexual activity of any kind and had warned me that it was ‘dirty’ to play with myself. As a result, I grew up uneasy about my natural urges, and although I was unable to keep myself from masturbating, I tried to limit how often I touched myself, and of course I kept it a secret from my mother.

I never talked with any of my school friends about the topic either (I was shy and didn’t have many close friends anyway). And I certainly never let on to anyone, least of all my mother, that when I did masturbate, my fantasies were always about kissing other girls or about having my favorite female teachers touch me in a sexual way. I was convinced that those kinds of fantasies were especially wrong and sinful — and yet, when I indulged in them, my orgasms would be immensely powerful, and would keep on coming, one after another.

If I tried to imagine boys kissing me when I masturbated, I could never get fully aroused. But every time I thought about someone like Ms. Simmons, the tall, slender, blonde Social Studies teacher with the beautiful blue eyes, and when I visualized her watching me begin to undress, and then putting her hand inside my panties, I —

“Can you show me how?”

My daughter’s question jolted me back to the present. For a few moments, I’d become lost in a reverie of my adolescent sexuality.

“Um, you…” I stammered, “what do you mean?”

“I want you to show me how to do it.”

“Show you how to what?”

“To masturbate.”

I laughed nervously. I knew I shouldn’t laugh, but I didn’t know how else to react. “Oh, well, sweetie, that’s not usually the kind of thing mothers do with their daughters.”

“Why not?”

She was the picture of virginal innocence, her sweet face gazing at me with complete trust. Her big blue eyes, her pink lips, her clear skin; she seemed so young, still just a girl, and yet here she was, on the cusp of womanhood, or at least adolescence, asking me to tutor her in the ways of feminine sexuality.

“I — it’s just….”

“Please?”

I glanced at the clock. “Whoa, honey, look at the time! You don’t want to miss your show, do you?”

“Oh, yeah! Okay — but you can’t get out of it that easy.” She jumped up from the table and headed for the living room, calling over her shoulder, “I’m gonna ask you about it again!”

I quickly did the dishes, then stopped by to see her. She was deeply immersed in the program, an HBO series about teenage vampires or something. I kissed her on top of the head, whispering. “I’ve got some work to do on the computer. I’ll check on you again in a little bit.”

She squeezed my hand, “Okay, Mom.”

As I walked toward my bedroom, where the computer was, I thought to myself, It’s just the two of us, all we have is each other.

My mother had died unexpectedly from cancer the year I graduated from high school. My father, perennially unemployed and an abusive drunk, had left us when I was 7 years old, and I never saw him after that. So, at age 18, I was on my own. Luckily, I was a bright student and my 4.0 GPA was enough to get me a good scholarship for college.

Being on my own in the semi-adult world, and having a chance to start all over again, somehow allowed me to blossom. Maybe I simply grew into my face and body, or maybe I began to develop some confidence, but in college suddenly people were telling me how pretty I was, and boys were asking me for dates.

Of course, my masturbation continued, almost nightly by then, and my fantasies were always of girls or women kissing me and touching me. But the lessons my mother had drummed into me over all those years had taken hold, and so I still was convinced not only that lesbianism was a sin, but that there was not even the remotest possibility that I could be a lesbian.

Believing that, I began going out on a few dates with college boys, and on one fateful night in my sophomore year, I finally lost my virginity.

Jeremy was tall, blonde, and handsome, a popular student-athlete with top grades, rich parents, and plenty of young women eager to throw themselves at him. I realize now that I wasn’t really anyone special to Jeremy, just another pretty girl. But the fact that I was still somewhat reticent and seemingly hard-to-get may have increased his desire for me.

When I did finally accept his invitation for a date (after he’d asked me three or four times), I was nervous and excited. Knowing that he was so popular, perhaps I thought that being seen with him might make me popular too.

After dinner at a fancy restaurant and then a late movie, he took me back to his apartment and changed my life. I wanted sex with him to be wonderful; I wanted my first time to be magical; I wanted us to fall in love and get married and live happily ever after.

But I didn’t love Jeremy. I didn’t even like him much. He really wasn’t very nice to me. He seemed shallow, and making love with him was not special at all. It was quick and rough and unpleasant. I felt used and dirty. I cried in the car as he drove me back to the dorm, and he never spoke one more word to me after that night.

Of course, when I discovered I was expecting a child, I never told him about it. I arranged a transfer to another college in a nearby city and before I’d begun to show very much, I was around people who hadn’t known me before.

Those early years were difficult. I refused to drop out of school, and although I had to reduce my course load so that I could work part-time and earn money, I kept up my studies.

Having Amanda in my life made the tough times worthwhile, though. We had hardly anything, but we had each other. Every spare penny I could get my hands on, I spent making her happy, giving her as joyous and carefree a childhood as I could manage.

After eight long years, I had a Masters Degree in Social Work. Then I succeeded in getting a good job with the state government; not a great salary at first, but a challenging and rewarding position with plenty of future potential. I’ve done quite well there, too, moving up quickly. Now, at age 32, I’m a Section Supervisor, with more than twenty people working under me.

The only thing missing from my life is romance. Not that I haven’t had opportunities. That is, I’ve been asked out over the years by one nice-looking man after another. But it has never felt right, and not once have I gone on a date with anyone while raising Amanda.

And even though I masturbate frequently, and even though all my fantasies are of the lesbian variety, I still have never really allowed myself to accept that I’m not straight. After all, I look straight, don’t I? And men certainly seemed to find me attractive. So how could I be a lesbian?

No, I keep telling myself, I am what I always have been: a shy, pretty woman who isn’t comfortable being with men, and who has unusual erotic fantasies, but who is not a lesbian.

I’m just not cut out for love, it seems, excepting my love for my child.

And speaking of my child, what should I do now, with a young daughter just 10 years old openly expressing curiosity about female sexual practices — should I even consider teaching my little girl how to masturbate?

That’s what I was pondering that night as I sat down at the computer. I opened Google and typed in the question: “Should a mother teach her daughter how to masturbate?”

I was stunned to discover that I was not the only person wondering about this strange subject. Apparently there were lots of other mothers like me, with curious daughters, who wanted to know if they should do this or not.

According to Google, there were more than 2.7 million pages that addressed this question, or some variation of it. I clicked on the top three results, opening separate tabs for each of them, and started reading.

Here is some of what I read that night:

If a mother and daughter have a good relationship otherwise, then yes, I am a firm believer in parents instructing their offspring on sexual things. Who better to teach her daughter how to masturbate than her mother?
……

I have shown my daughter the way to masturbate. She saw me masturbating, one time, and asked me about it, and so I showed her. My mother also taught me how to masturbate when I was 10.
……

Well, my mother did it for me. When I was around 11 she asked to come with her and we went into her bedroom. She said she knew I was curious and she wanted to make sure I was doing it right. So she pulled down her panties, showed me her pussy, and told me to watch carefully. I was really intrigued as I watched her rub herself and get excited. After she had a climax she told me to try. So I took my clothes off and did it the same as she had done. While she was watching she started doing it again too. It was so intense and I had my first big orgasm. After that I knew what I was doing and I thanked my mom for her openness. Then I decided it was up to me to teach my little sisters how to do it. So I think it is fine and if I ever have a daughter of my own I will do the same for her.

As I skimmed through the various pages about mothers teaching their daughters to masturbate, I started touching myself. That was a common enough practice for me; I usually gave myself an orgasm at least once a day, and often at night I would search for erotic stories about lesbianism or for pictures of young women playing with themselves or having lesbian sex and I would make myself come while sitting at the computer.

But I hadn’t really planned to masturbate just then. I almost never did it before Amanda was asleep in bed. Still, as I read about mothers showing their daughters how to pleasure themselves, I found it irresistibly arousing. And by the time I reached the third entry above, after I’d been reading assorted answers for about five minutes, I was already quite wet.

The description the writer gave of her mother masturbating in front of her and then of the two of them doing it together pushed me over the edge. I came hard and loudly, with several recurring orgasms.

A few moments later, as I sat staring at my computer, breathing hard and still slowly sliding two fingers in and out of my wet vagina, I heard a knock at the door. “Mom, the show’s over. I’m going to bed now.”

“Um — okay!” I hurriedly tried to button up my jeans, hoping she wouldn’t come into the room and discover what I’d been doing. My fingers were slippery with my juices, though, and I fumbled with the buttons. “I’ll…I’ll…come in and kiss you goodnight… um, in a minute, sweetie!”

“All right…” then, after a pause, “are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine!” Still trying to catch my breath, I walked quickly to the door and opened it, trying to appear perfectly normal. I patted Amanda on the cheek. “You get ready for bed now, and then I’ll come in and say goodnight.”

“Okay, but…” She cocked her head, looking at my reddened face. “Are you sure you’re okay? Not sick or anything?”

“Of course, I’m fine, sweetheart,” I assured her, patting her cheek again — then suddenly I realized that I was touching her face with the fingers that moments before had been deep inside my cunt! I pulled my hand away and slid it in my pocket, hoping she’d not been able to smell the evidence of what I’d been doing.

Fifteen minutes later, after I’d thoroughly washed my hands, then tucked my little girl into bed and kissed her goodnight, I was back in my room, undressing quickly and sliding naked under the covers. Usually I would not get in bed quite so early, but I had a lot to think about that night.

Why had the things I was reading about been so exciting to me?

Why was I so nervous when Amanda asked me about masturbation?

Why was I so concerned about hiding what I’d been doing before she knocked on the door?

Why did I feel so guilty about everything?

The answer to my questions seemed obvious: it was because of the way I’d been raised by my mother, to think of sex and masturbation as shameful. And yet, that still didn’t explain why I’d found myself so incredibly aroused by what I was reading. The stories about mothers teaching their daughters to masturbate had a powerful affect on me, but why?

Why, when I pictured a woman taking off her panties and spreading her legs and showing her naked pussy to her 11-year-old daughter and then touching herself, why did that make me want to come? Was that normal?

Why, when I pictured the woman climaxing in front of her daughter, and then urging the little girl to take off her clothes so her mother could see her naked pussy, and then the two of them masturbating together, why did that get me so hot?

I was rubbing myself again as I thought about these questions and pictured the situations. What would it be like, I wondered, for me to show Amanda — and then I came again.

I rolled onto my side, clenching my thighs together around my hands, climaxing over and over again as I imagined my little girl watching me. It was a long night, and I didn’t get very much sleep, but over several hours I must have brought myself to at least a dozen orgasms, and perhaps many more. I wasn’t counting.

When morning came, I was exhausted. My pussy was sore and my fingers had such a strong scent of female arousal that I thought I might never be able to wash them clean. Fortunately it was a Saturday, so I didn’t have to go to work.

About 9:30, I finally dragged myself out of bed and into the shower — where I proceeded to masturbate several times again.

Slipping into a robe and a pair of panties, I went out and found Amanda sitting on the couch watching MTV and eating a bowl of cereal. I kissed her on top of the head. “Good morning, sweetie.”

“Hi, Mom,” she said around a mouthful of Fruity Pebbles.

I made myself some coffee and sat at the kitchen table slowly sipping it, still trying to figure out what was going on with me. After a few minutes, Amanda came in. She put her cereal bowl in the sink and then sat down at the table. She reached out her hand and smoothed down my hair. It was still wet from the shower and I had not combed it very well.

“Are you okay?” She looked at me with concern.

“Sure, honey, I’m fine,” I smiled. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know. You just look tired.”

“Well,” I chuckled, “I didn’t really sleep that well. But don’t you worry, Mommy’s going to be just fine.” I tweaked her nose.

She giggled, then crossed her arms on the table and laid set her chin down on them, looking up at me with her big blue eyes. “Um, so, can you show me, you know, about masturbation today?”

“Oh, well, it’s, I… I’ve been thinking about that.”

Amanda’s eyes lit up.

I felt a stirring between my legs. And without making a conscious decision, I heard my voice give her the answer that she wanted. Which, apparently, was also the answer that I wanted.

“Yes. Sure. We can do that.” Involuntarily I clenched my thighs together, hard, and shivered with erotic pleasure. I knew could make myself come again very quickly, already was I so aroused just from thinking about doing it in front of her.

She smiled at me. I wanted to kiss her pretty mouth, and that thought got me even wetter.

“But, first, um, I’ve got a couple of things I need to do, so you can watch TV, or, I don’t know, do you have homework?”

She was shaking her head and I was standing up, a little unsteadily, and then starting for my bedroom, my unfinished cup of coffee still on the table. “Let me… I’ll just… do this stuff, and then come back in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.” I heard her answer as the kitchen door swung shut behind me.

Before I’d even reached my room, I had my robe open and my hand inside my panties. I shut the door, fell face down onto the bed, and masturbated furiously, humping my hand, thinking about my daughter. Over and over I made myself come, first while lying on my stomach, then on my side, then on my back.

After one last intense climax had passed, I sat up groggily, pulled my panties back up from around my knees, then struggled over to my computer and turned it on.

I opened a folder I had with pictures of Amanda. I found a recent one of her pretty face with a big smile and enlarged it. Then I opened a second folder with explicit shots of young women masturbating. I found one that looked like it was of a very young girl, with a tiny pink shaved pussy, and I put it side by side with Amanda’s picture. I imagined that I was watching my little girl touch herself, and that she was watching me, and then that we were kissing each other — and as I fantasized, I touched myself and came again and again and again.

Finally, when I realized that I’d been in my room for over an hour after I’d said I’d be gone for only a few minutes, I decided it wasn’t fair for me to shut Amanda out like this, just when she was asking to be included, wanting me to share with her some of the most important and special parts of my life.

I convinced myself that since I loved her so and since all I wanted was what was best for her, surely no harm could come from a loving mother sharing her intimate secrets with her darling daughter.

Then I licked my fingers clean, not bothering to wash them this time, and turned off the computer. Before I left the room, I decided to change from the old terry robe I was wearing. I went to the closet and got out my nicest silk robe. After a moment’s hesitation, I pulled off my panties and left them on the floor. And then I went back out to see my little girl.

Amanda was in her bedroom, with the door open, looking at herself in the mirror and brushing her hair. I leaned against the door jamb. “You look so pretty.”

She smiled, “Of course you would say that. You’re my mom.”

I walked over to stand behind her, taking the brush and pulling it slowly through her shiny blonde tresses. I caught her eyes in the mirror, “No, I really mean it. You are a very pretty girl, and you’re going to be a beautiful young woman.”

She blushed. “Thank you.”

There was silence between us for a few moments as I gently brushed her hair and she gazed at her reflection in the mirror and then back up at me.

“So,” I asked, “have you been thinking about this stuff for a while? About masturbating, I mean, or did it just come up because of your class?”

“Well, no, I mean, I’ve thought about it some, ‘cuz, you know, the kids at school talk about it and stuff. But not really.”

I knew, of course, that in our modern sex-obsessed culture, most children had plenty of exposure to the idea of masturbation by the time they were 10. I waited for her to say more, but she didn’t, so I said, “And, at this point, you’re really sure you want to learn about it? I’m happy to tell you, but only if you’re ready.”

“Not tell me. Show me.”

“Oh. Yes. All right.” My pussy started heating up again. I wondered why she was so insistent about being shown.

“You don’t mind, do you?”

“No, not at all, honey, it’s fine. I want to make sure you know everything you need to know to be happy and well-adjusted and everything. That’s part of my job as a mommy.”

She smiled. “Good.”

I put down the hairbrush, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay, then, are you ready?”

She turned around and looked up at me, her face beaming. “Yeah!”

“All right, so, let’s go over to your bed and sit down.”

Continue on to Chapter 2

By Naughty Mommy

What a dream it was. No, I don’t mean the dream I had that night of making love with women who looked like my mother. I mean living this dream life, of learning all about sex and being allowed to watch my mom with these girls and women that she would bring home. It was unbelievably great.

And it was kind of weird how, as all of this was taking place, we were also still pretty much like a normal family. I mean, we were a normal family, with school and housework and everything, and we were all really happy — but I don’t think very many moms have lesbian sex in front of their 12-year-old daughters. Yes, I turned 12!!

And for my birthday, my mother had all these amazing surprises for me.

First, she got a sitter to stay with Molly and Kate, saying that since it was my 12th birthday, I should get to have a very special private time with her. Then, she told me I should wear the white dress, black sweater, and stiletto heels when we went out for our celebration. I was stunned, because I never thought she would let people see me dressed all sexy in public like that, but I was also really happy. It would be like I was a grownup lady!

My mom said she’d made a reservation for the two of us at a high-class restaurant in a town about 40 minutes from ours. And she hired a Rolls Royce limousine to drive us there! The limo driver was a lady about my mom’s age or maybe a little older with straight blonde hair and a really cool English accent. She was pretty and she seemed nice.

As we started toward the restaurant, my mom used a switch to lower the window between the back of the limo and where the driver was. She said something to the English lady about the directions to get there, and then she turned to me and said — loud enough for the driver to hear — “You’re not wearing any panties, are you?”

I saw the driver immediately look up into the rear view mirror, watching me. I couldn’t believe my mother had asked me that, but I didn’t know what else to do, so I just answered honestly, “No.”

“Good,” said my mom. “Neither am I.” The driver smiled, then returned her attention to the road.

When we pulled up in front of the restaurant, a man in a tuxedo came toward the car and opened the door for us to get out. I suddenly realized I would have to be careful not to flash the guy since I didn’t have my panties on! But I managed to get out of the car okay and not stumble too clumsily in my high heels. My mom got out after me and took my hand, putting it under her arm like we were a couple. She gave the tuxedo guy — the doorman? — a tip, and then we went inside.

It was definitely the fanciest restaurant I had ever been to, with all the waiters wearing tuxedos and stuff. There was live classical music, a string quartet I think, and it was all dark inside. We got this big special table that my mother said was called a banquette, where we were sitting next to each other and kind of looking down on some of the other diners.

Again, I had never experienced any kind of a meal like this. I lost track of how many courses there were, and it was all really good, even if sometimes I wasn’t really sure what I was eating. Before dessert ever came, I was stuffed, and my mom had been drinking different kinds of wines with each course, so she was a little tipsy. But we had such a good time!

We were in the restaurant for I think about two and a half hours, and when we came out somehow the car was right there waiting for us. We got in and I felt so special, like we were really rich people or the royal family or something.

And as we settled into the comfy leather seat in the back of the Rolls Royce and started our long drive home in the dark, my mom put her arm around me and I snuggled up next to her, all warm and happy. After a few minutes of sitting that way, she said quietly, “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, for sure, that was the best!”

My mother put a finger under my chin and turned my face to look up at hers. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” Then she kissed me on the mouth, wetly with a lot of tongue.

I could taste the wine that she’d been drinking, and I loved the smell of her special perfume, and it always made me super excited when she would do that, and so I let her kiss me that way for a long time… yet at the same time I started thinking that it was kind of weird for a mom to be kissing her daughter like that, especially when somebody else might be watching!

And sure enough, when we finally ended the kiss, I looked at the rear view mirror, and the lady driver was watching us. She was still driving carefully, of course, but she had her mirror set so she could see everything we were doing.

“Mom,” I whispered urgently, “she can see us!”

“I know, baby,” my mother reassured me, “and it’s okay. I talked to her about this before. In fact, she’s going to play something like our game with us in a few minutes.”

“Really??”

“Uh-huh.”

So that was another one of the big surprises my mom had planned for me. What a night it was!

We drove along for several minutes more while my mother kept kissing me with her tongue. I was getting so excited — I could feel that my pussy was super wet — and I really wanted to touch myself between my legs, but then I felt the car kind of bump and slow down, like we were turning off the main road.

It was dark outside, and I had no idea where we were, but I could see a big metal gate open up in front of the car. It was electric, I guess. We drove through the gate and we were on a small road with lots of big trees, and pretty soon the driver pulled the car over to the side and stopped.

My mom lowered the window again between the back and front seats. “Thank you, Linda.” (I discovered that was the driver’s name.) “You’re sure no one will find us here?”

“Yes, ma’am, I’m quite certain,” she said in her cultured accent while looking at us in the rear view mirror. “As I told you, our company uses this location exclusively, and tonight I’m the only one with the code for that gate.”

“Excellent,” said my mother. “Then would you like to come back here and join us?”

“Indeed I would.”

I could see the smile on Linda’s face. She opened the driver’s door, got out, came to the rear door, opened it, and climbed in with us. She sat on sort of a mini-seat that folded down and faced toward the back.

“Linda, this is my daughter, Julie.”

“Hello, Julie, I’m so glad to know you. Happy birthday!” She held out her hand and I took it. Then she put her other hand over mine. Her grip was warm and strong.

“Doesn’t she look pretty for her 12th birthday?” asked my mom.

“Yes, she does, she is a very beautiful girl.”

I blushed and tried to say, “Thank you,” but I only stammered awkwardly because I was nervous and I wasn’t sure what would happen next.

My mom reached down and put her hand under my ankle, lifting my leg up. With her other hand, she slid the white dress up over my thigh, about halfway to my crotch. She caressed the inside of my leg, which tickled and also made my nipples get hard.

“Don’t you just love her little legs? So soft and smooth and young?”

“Oh, yes, ma’am, I love little girls like that.” Linda spread her own legs apart and drew her pleated skirt up between them, exposing her thighs. Her legs were bare and her skin was very white.

Putting her hand behind my head and gently stroking my hair, my mother looked into my eyes. “Now, Julie, Linda and I are going to play around a little bit and you can watch us, okay?”

“Um, okay…”

My mom took off the suit jacket she had on, and then slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. She wasn’t wearing a bra.

Linda did the same, taking off her jacket and tossing it over the front seat, then slowly opening her white shirt. The bra she was wearing was white and lacy and low cut, showing off her cleavage. Her breasts were full and lightly freckled.

My mother finished removing her blouse and hung it on a hook by the door, then turned to me and said, “Honey, would you take off your sweater and your dress, so we can see you naked?”

“Uh, okay, I guess.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I would love to be able to look at you, and I’m sure Linda would too.” My mom patted my knee.

“Yes, I would, very much” nodded the driver, “but only if you’re comfortable with that, my dear.”

“Well, all right,” I answered nervously as I started to shrug out of my cashmere sweater.

I was feeling warm and starting to sweat a little bit. It wasn’t hot at all in the car, but this kind of close-up situation was different than anything we had done before. I mean, I had been naked in bed with my mom while we were both masturbating and even kissing, but somehow this felt way more intense than that.

I hung up my sweater on the hook above the door and then reached under my arm to pull down the zipper on the dress. Linda and my mom had stopped undressing and were staring at me.

They were both topless now. My mom’s tits were gorgeous, a little smaller than Linda’s but round and perky with stiff brown nipples. Linda’s breasts were larger and sagged a little, but they were very nice.

When I pulled the zipper down, I paused for a moment, with my arm across my chest, holding the dress there.

“Don’t be shy, honey, let us see you,” encouraged my mom.

I lowered the dress and looked down at my tiny breasts. They seemed like nothing compared to Linda’s and my mom’s.

“Oh, how beautiful!” sighed Linda.

“Yes, isn’t she perfect?” agreed my mother.

“My lord, Julie, you are so very lovely!” Linda couldn’t seem to take her eyes off my breasts.

I began to feel a little prouder of my body. Even if it wasn’t grown up and mature like theirs, if they thought that I was pretty and sexy, that made me happy.

“I could look at you all night…” Linda had a hand under her skirt now, and it was obvious that she was touching herself.

My mom was squeezing her own breasts and pinching her nipples as she looked at me. “Go ahead, now, baby, take it all the way off.”

“Okay. Um, my shoes too?”

“Your shoes too. I think we should all get completely naked.”

“Oh, yes, I like that idea,” Linda chuckled.

So, I leaned over and undid the straps on my high-heeled sandals and put the shoes to the side. Then I lifted my bottom off the seat and pulled the dress under me and down my legs. At the same time, my mom and Linda were taking off their shoes and skirts, and in a minute, we were all three naked.

My mother kept her pussy hair trimmed but not shaved. Linda had hers shaved all the way off. It was the first time I had ever seen a grown lady that way.

But as I was looking at her, Linda was really looking at me. My mom saw it, and put her hand on my bare knee, gently pulling my thighs apart.

“Open up your legs for us, sweetie. Let Linda get a good look at you.”

I took a deep breath and began to spread my legs.

And then for some reason, I don’t know what happened, but it was like a switch was flipped on inside me. Instead of feeling embarrassed and shy that night, I started feeling really good about myself, feeling strong and powerful, because I was someone special. I had something that people really wanted to see.

I leaned back and lifted my knees into the air, then put my hands between my legs and spread my pussy lips apart.

“Oh!!” Linda gasped and put her hand over mouth. Her other hand grabbed her breast and squeezed it. “Oh my god, what a — what a beautiful little girl!”

Her reaction made me smile.

My mother leaned forward, sliding her hand in between Linda’s legs as they both looked down at my open pussy. “Do you like that? Does it make you hot to look at my daughter, spreading her… her little cunt open for you?”

My mom was caressing Linda’s pussy. I could see that it was already very wet. I started rubbing myself too, dipping my fingers between my lips to bring out the slippery moisture. My mom started licking Linda’s breasts, making her nipples hard, and then sucking on them and biting them. I put one hand on my own tits as I watched this, pinching my little nipples.

Linda had a hand behind my mother’s head, holding her face against her breasts. Her other hand was over my mom’s, down between her legs. She licked her lips as she stared at me, watching me play with my tits and rub my pussy.

“Do you… do you enjoy touching yourself, Julie?” asked Linda.

“Uh-huh,” I nodded. “I do. It feels really good.”

“And, um—” she looked down at my mom and spoke quickly to her “—put your finger in me. Fuck me with your finger.”

My mother complied. I saw her slide first one, then two fingers inside Linda’s wet cunt. I watched her fingers moving in and out, again and again, pressing deeper and harder with each thrust as her thumb caressed the woman’s clit.

Linda groaned with pleasure and closed her eyes for a moment, apparently savoring the sensation. Then she looked up at me again and continued, “And, um, darling, can you, can you make yourself come?”

“Uh-huh. Do you want to watch me?” I was rubbing my clit faster and I knew I was getting close.

“Oh, yes!” She pushed my mom’s head down toward her crotch. “Lick me now, please, while I watch your little girl play with herself.”

As my mother positioned herself between Linda’s thighs, her body shifted around until her own bottom was between my legs. Where I was touching myself was only a few inches from my mom’s pussy.

And then, while I watched, I saw my mom’s hand sliding under her to find her cunt. As she licked Linda’s clit and fucked her with her fingers, my mother slid her own finger into her wet pussy, and she started fucking herself right in front of me.

For a second I had the strongest desire to put my hand down there too, on her pussy, to touch her, and to slide my own finger up inside my mother’s cunt — and when that thought passed through my mind, I suddenly started to climax.

“Unh—I’m gonna come—” I squeaked, wanting Linda to know what was happening.

And then I did come, hard. When my thighs started to clamp together, they closed on my mother’s hips. My eyes were shut tight but I could feel the warmth of her skin against the inside of my knees as I pressed my fingers into my slit and moaned in erotic ecstasy.

“OHH FUCK YES FUCK YES!!” I heard Linda shrieking as she came while I was still in the midst of my own climax. My orgasm lasted a very long time, apparently even longer than hers.

By the time I was able to open my eyes, my mother was sitting up on the seat beside me, looking at me. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, her lips still wet from Linda’s pussy juices. Her long legs were spread wide apart and she was fucking herself fast with two fingers.

When I looked at her, she said, “Kiss me, Julie! Kiss me while I come!”

I leaned toward her and put my mouth over hers. Our tongues played together and I tasted an unfamiliar tang that must have been the flavor of Linda’s sex. As I kissed my mom, I caught a glimpse of the other woman watching us and rubbing her own pussy.

“Oh yes yes yes,” she murmured, “kiss your mummy, kiss your little girl, mummy’s little girl, make mummy come, oh FUCK YES—”

My mother and Linda came at the same time. I kissed my mom and put my hand on her breast. It was warm and soft, but her nipple was very hard under my palm. I wanted to squeeze her nipple — I wanted to suck on it! — but I was afraid. I just held her breast in my hand while she climaxed.

As soon as my mother was done, Linda was all over her, kissing her mouth, her face, her neck, her chest, and then sucking on her tits.

I leaned back again, watching them and touching myself. My mom looked at me and licked her lips. “Touch your little pussy, honey. Mommy wants to see you come.”

I spread my long, slender legs as far apart as I could, even lifting one of my feet up to the back of the seat, behind her. I opened my cunt up for my mom, so she could see me as I rubbed my clit and played with the opening to my vagina.

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Mommy likes to watch you. Make yourself come for Mommy.”

Linda had left my mother’s breasts and moved down so her face was between her legs. She was holding my mother’s pussy lips apart with both hands and was licking her cunt.

“Oh goddamn that feels so good!” sighed my mom, as she held the woman’s head in her hands. “Linda, you’re — you’re gonna make me come while my daughter’s watching — watching you eat me — UMMHHH-OOOHHH!!!”

I was close, but I waited. I wanted my mom to see me come, to see the whole thing up close, without the distraction of her own climax. I slid even further down on the seat, with one leg still up high behind my mother’s head, and I laid the other leg across Linda’s back as she licked and sucked on my mom’s clit.

I was very excited. This was definitely something new. It was like I was having sex with them, and not just watching. I had to slow my movements a little so I wouldn’t come too fast.

It was a long orgasm for my mother, and she was very loud. She seemed to keep coming over and over again as Linda pumped her finger in and out of her cunt and sucked on her clit.

But finally she finished. Linda sat back, panting and wiping her mouth. Her big tits were shiny with sweat.

I suddenly had a strong desire to touch Linda’s breasts, to put my face between them, to suck on her nipples. That idea got me even more turned on, and then when I looked back over at my mom and saw her pinching her own long nipples, and then lift one of them up to her mouth so she could extend her tongue and lick it, I couldn’t hold back any more.

“Mommy, watch me!” I cried. “Watch me come!”

My mom put one hand on my thigh as I started to come. I tried to hold my pussy open for her to see as I experienced my orgasm, but then it became impossible for me to control my hands as they clenched at my young sex while I climaxed in front of them.

* * *

That turned out to be the final orgasm of our little lesbian orgy in the backseat of the Rolls Royce limousine.

After I was finished, I stretched my legs wide apart, like I was doing the splits, and I let my mom and Linda watch me dipping my fingers inside my pussy lips and taking the juices and putting them in my mouth and tasting myself.

Linda sat up next to my mother and put her arm around her and they both just stared. They obviously appreciated what I was doing, and I loved being the center of their attention.

My mom and Linda kissed a little bit more, but then both seemed to agree that it was time for us to go home.

As we were getting dressed again, Linda said, “You know, Julie, I… I have a little girl of my own, just about your age. She’s, um, she’s at home now, and I… well, I just can’t thank you enough for, for sharing this with me.”

“What does your little girl look like?” asked my mother.

“Well, she’s slender, like Julie, but her hair is, it’s red and curly and she has a lot of freckles. She’s almost 13, and I, um, you know…” She blushed and looked down at the floor as she finished buttoning her shirt.

“Have you ever talked to her about lesbian sex? Asked her if she might be curious about it?”

“No, it’s, it’s her father — we’re separated, but he doesn’t even know that I like women, and neither does Allie, my daughter. I mean, if they ever knew, there might be trouble. So, for now, it’s just a fantasy…. except for an extraordinary time like this.”

As she picked up her jacket, she leaned toward me, looking into my eyes. “Thank you so much, darling. I will never ever forget this.”

I just smiled, unsure of what to say to her. Then she got out of the car, slipped on her jacket, went up to the driver’s seat, and drove us back to our house.

After taking the babysitter home, my mom came into my room to see me before she went to bed. I was already asleep, completely spent by the incredible events of the evening. I didn’t hear the door open, and it wasn’t until I felt her soft lips on mine that I awoke and realized she was there. I turned my face to hers and she kissed me warmly.

“Happy birthday, my darling girl, and thank you for a wonderful time tonight.”

“Oh, thank you, Mommy!” I wrapped my arms around her and we kissed again. “It was the best birthday ever!!”

Continue on to Chapter 8

By Naughty Mommy

On Tuesday night the following week, my mom came into my room again as I was getting ready for bed. It was about 11:00 o’clock.

It was the middle of August, and we had no school, so Molly was allowed to stay up until 9:30 and Kate until 10:30, but my mom said since I was almost 12 years old, I could stay up as late as I wanted. Usually I went to sleep around midnight, though.

I was standing in my bathroom, wearing boxer shorts and a big tank top, brushing my hair. My mom came up behind me and put her hands on my shoulders, looking at me in the mirror.

“You’ll never guess what I did today,” she said.

“What?”

“Are you going to bed now?”

“Um, yeah, as soon as I brush my teeth.”

“Okay, I’ll wait for you.” She sat down on the toilet seat. “When you get in bed, I’ll tell you all about it.”

I smiled. I knew it would be something sexy and exciting. I brushed my teeth a little faster than usual.

My mom was wearing a bathrobe, and as I opened my bed, she took the robe off. She was naked underneath. “Take your clothes off too,” she requested.

“Okay.” I turned away from her and pulled down my boxer shorts, stepping out of them, then lifted the tank top over my head. Even though my mother had seen me naked plenty of times, I was still sort of shy about my body. I wanted to be older and more developed, more like a woman.

I quickly slipped under the covers. My mother joined me.

We faced each other, on our sides, and I felt the warmth of her. She smelled wonderful too. I thought how lucky I was to have such a sexy mom who would teach me about everything.

“You remember Melissa, from Victoria’s Secret?”

“Of course.”

“Well, I called the store yesterday from work to see if she was there, but she wasn’t, because she has Mondays off. But I called again today and she was there. So, at lunch, I told my secretary I had an appointment and I would be gone for a couple of hours and then I went to the mall to see Melissa.”

“Really?”

“Yes — and do you know what happened?”

“What?”

“We had sex! In the fitting room! The same one where she saw Kate naked!”

“Honest?”

“Yes!!” My mother was ecstatic. She was breathing hard. I wondered if she could have an orgasm just from telling me about this.

“I, I told her I wanted her to help me try on a few things, and I just grabbed a bra and pair of panties — they weren’t even my size — and I’m sure she knew immediately what I had in mind. But when we went into the fitting room, the one all the way at the back, and after she’d closed the door and locked it, I didn’t start grabbing her right away or anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because first I wanted to find out just how far she would go, if, you know, if she was the type who might want to play our little game with us.”

“Ooh, really? And?” I felt my nipples getting hard.

“So, I took off my blouse and my bra, still pretending I was going to try on the new one. And then, while I was standing there topless in front of her, I said, ‘Melissa, I think I should apologize for the other day when I was here and when I touched you in a way that maybe wasn’t appropriate.’ And she said, ‘I didn’t mind. I liked it.’ And she reached out and put her hand on one of my breasts.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. But I said, ‘Yes, I know, but it was in front of my daughters, and they’re just little girls, and I thought it might have made you uncomfortable to have them watching while I touched your body that way.’”

“Oh, I get it,” I grinned.

“Right. And after I said that, Melissa smiled at me and she leaned in really close and she put both her hands on my breasts, squeezing my nipples, and she said, ‘No, I liked it that way. It was naughty and exciting. I like being a naughty girl.’”

“Ooh, this is good.”

“Yes, it is. We started kissing then, and while I was taking off her clothes I asked her if she liked looking at Kate’s sexy little naked body, only 10 years old, and she said she thought Kate was hot.”

“She really said that?”

“Uh-huh, and then while I had my hand inside her panties and I was feeling her smooth, wet, shaved pussy, I told her what you had done the other day.”

“What do you mean?”

“I told Melissa that when you went to the ladies room you took off your panties and you masturbated while you were fantasizing about her.”

“You told her that?”

“Yeah…” My mother was masturbating again, rubbing herself as she leaned in close to me, her warm, fragrant, naked body touching mine.

“I, she, we, we kissed a lot, and, and she, she sucked on my nipples… mmm, and then she started fingering me, and then she had me sit on the bench… oh god, I’m, I’m… and, um, and she started licking me and—”

She had her first climax. Or at least her first with me that night in my bed. I’m pretty sure she had been masturbating in her room earlier in the evening, too, and maybe also in her office at work after she got back from the mall. My mom loves touching herself.

It was a short one, but intense. She quickly went back to her story.

“Then, I, I licked her too… god she tasted so good… and she came in my mouth, and I told her I wanted to see her again, and I asked her if she would let me take her to dinner on Friday night — she gets off at 6:00 — and that if she wanted to, she could come over here, and, and see you.”

“Really? What did she say?”

“Well, she sat on my lap, facing me. We were both naked and she spread her long legs wide apart and put her hand down between her legs so she could rub both her cunt and mine at the same time. It was really hot. I started licking her nipples — she has very small tits but nice long nipples — and she said, ‘How old is she? Your little girl?’ And I told her, ‘She’s only 11 years old but she loves touching herself.’ Melissa was rubbing her hand up and down pretty fast and she was getting ready to come again and so was I, and she said, ‘She’s only 11? And she likes to touch herself? And she watches…’ ‘That’s right,’ I told her, ‘my daughter watches while I fuck young girls like you. You can sit on my face and look at her while I eat your pussy and you can watch her masturbate while you come in her mother’s mouth’ and—”

My mom started coming again, hard, but this time she rolled half on top of me, one warm sweaty thigh falling over mine, and her free hand — the one that wasn’t fucking her pussy — clutched at my tits! She squeezed my tiny breast and pinched my nipple. It hurt, but at the same time it was super exciting. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I just put my arms around her and held her while she had her orgasm.

“Oh goddamn FUCK that’s so good. So fucking good. Oh jesus god I love to fuck myself. So fucking goddamn good… mmmmm… oh but look, sweetie, I’m so wet, I must have gushed all over you,” she laughed, “I’m sorry, honey, and — oh, did I hurt you?”

She took her hand away from my breast.

“No, no, it’s okay, I’m fine.”

She flopped onto her back. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Julie, I have never had orgasms like this before. Ever since I started sharing all this stuff with you.”

She turned her head to look at me and put a wet finger out to touch my nose. “And are you really sure you’re okay with all this?”

I nodded eagerly, smiling. “Yeah, of course, I love it!”

“Good!” She turned on her side again facing me, and kissed me on the mouth, a long warm kiss, but no tongue this time. “Okay, so, Friday I’m taking Melissa to dinner, and if it all goes well, we can play our little game with her that night. How does that sound?”

“Perfect! I can’t wait!”

“Mmm, I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Mommy!”

This time I kissed her. I took her pretty face in my hands and put my mouth on hers and I used my tongue. We kissed for a long time that way and I started getting really excited, but finally my mom said it was enough and she got out of bed and went back to her own room.

I masturbated a lot of times that night before I fell asleep.

* * *

It seemed to take forever. The days just dragged by that week until Friday arrived. Eventually, though, it did.

Mom called me from work and said she had confirmed with Melissa; she was going to meet her at a nice restaurant after work, then they would go dancing for a little while, and I should expect them at about 10:30. She told me to make sure Kate and Molly went to bed a little early (the excuse being that school was starting again the next week), so they would hopefully be asleep when she got home. Now that I was old enough, she wasn’t getting babysitters any more, and I was responsible.

For dinner that night, I made grilled cheese sandwiches — my specialty — for us. We watched The Little Mermaid together while we ate, and then I was so excited about seeing Melissa and my mom and playing our ‘game’ that as soon as the movie was over I started nagging my sisters about going to bed. I got Molly in bed right at 9:00, and Kate went up to her room at around 9:30, and I went into my room shortly after 10:00 and waited.

I brushed my hair and put on some lip gloss and then, on impulse, I went into my mother’s bedroom and found her perfume, the kind that I especially liked, and sprayed a little of it on my neck. Back in my room, I looked at myself naked in the mirror and played with my nipples and my pussy while I waited for them to get home.

At 10:45, I heard two cars drive up. My pussy was very wet. I listened for the front door to open and then I could hear them talking quietly, though I couldn’t tell what they were saying. When I heard my mom coming up the stairs, I went and sat on my bed.

My bedroom door opened and she came in, holding a shopping bag. Her eyes went wide when she saw what I was wearing, which was nothing. I was starting to get a bit more confident about having her see me that way.

“Hello there, beautiful girl.”

“Hi, Mom,” I smiled.

She put the bag on the bed, then sat down next to me and wrapped her arms around me. She brought her lips to mine and kissed me deeply, her tongue exploring my mouth. It was clear that she was extremely aroused.

After a long kiss, she pulled away and said softly, “Are you ready to play our game?”

I nodded eagerly.

She turned to get the shopping bag and reached inside. “I want you to wear this, okay?” My mom pulled out a gorgeous white dress, strapless, with an elastic bodice.

My eyes went wide. It was by far the most ‘adult’ piece of clothing she had ever purchased for me. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. And these too.” Also in the bag was a pair of black sandals with stiletto heels! I had never been allowed to wear high heels before!

“Oh, wow…”

“Do you like them?”

“Yeah!”

“Good. Now, you won’t be able to wear them all the time, of course. Only for special occasions, like tonight, for example.”

“Okay.” I was holding the shoes, marveling at how sexy and grownup they were.

“And put this on too.” She handed me a beautiful black cardigan sweater. The fabric was super thin and soft — my mom said it was cashmere. I was sure it was expensive.

“So, Melissa already knows all about our game, but I think she’s still going to be surprised at how exciting it is. You put these things on — no panties, all right? — and I’ll go back downstairs.”

“Um, no panties?”

My mother was almost at the door, and turned back to look at me. “Nope, no panties. Melissa’s not wearing any.”

I didn’t really get the connection, but I nodded anyway.

She held up her right hand and looked at it, smiling, her two middle fingers close together. “I already fucked her once in the ladies room at the restaurant.” She sniffed her fingers. “Do you want to smell?”

She came back over to me and held her fingers in front of my nose. With the perfume both my mom and I were wearing, and with the smell of my own pussy juices still in the air, I wasn’t quite sure I could sense Melissa’s aroma, but I pretended I did.

“Nice, huh?” My mom licked the tips of her fingers. “Mmmm… okay, you get dressed now and we’ll get started down in the family room.” She leaned over and kissed me once more on the mouth, then left the room.

The dress was just my size. I stood in front of the mirror, admiring how great I looked in it. The shoes were hard to stand up in, since I had never worn high heels except when I was a little girl fooling around in my mom’s closet. But I loved the way they made my legs look so much longer and sexier.

When I went out into the hall after pulling on the sweater, my mother was sitting on the sofa next to Melissa. They were toasting each other with glasses of champagne. I discovered then why my mom wanted me to dress up in these new clothes — because they were exactly the same as Melissa was wearing!!

As I stepped to the railing, my mother looked up at me. “Hi, sweetie,” she smiled. I smiled back.

Melissa held up her glass and beamed. “Hi, Julie.”

My throat was a little tight as I considered that within a few minutes I would finally see her naked — having lesbian sex with my mom! — and so I wasn’t able to say anything. I just smiled at her and nodded.

Winking at me, my mom put down her champagne glass and took Melissa’s face in her hands, kissing her deeply and wetly. Then, after the kiss, my mom had Melissa stand up and turn slowly around in a circle for me. The girl held the sides of her dress up high and I could see her smooth white thighs.

“Look how beautiful she is. Now, Julie, you turn around too.”

I did so, a bit awkwardly. Because I was unsteady in the heels, I had to keep one hand on the railing for support. I wanted to lift my dress up with both hands so they could see that I wasn’t wearing any panties, but since I could only use one hand, I wasn’t sure they could tell.

“You are so cute!” gushed Melissa.

“Yes, isn’t she lovely?” said my mom. Then she turned to Melissa and kissed her again. “And so are you. It’s like I now have two beautiful little daughters. Sexy twins!”

I wasn’t sure why she said that, since we didn’t look very much alike, and since she already had two other daughters, but anyway it made me feel happy that she was happy.

“Now I want to see both of my little girls take off their clothes. First, the sweaters.”

Melissa giggled. She was obviously having a good time. Looking up at me, she began to slowly remove her sweater. I did the same.

With her sweater off, it was easy to see that Melissa had very small breasts, not much bigger than mine. But I could also tell that her nipples were erect, as mine were.

Our dresses zipped on the side. At the exact same time, we reached up to pull down the zippers. Then we let our dresses slip down over our bodies and fall to the floor. We were both naked except for our high-heeled sandals.

My mom was sitting on the sofa, her own dress pulled up to her waist. She had no panties on. Her legs were spread wide and she was rubbing her pussy with both hands as she watched us strip for her. I couldn’t hear her voice, but I could read her lips as she said, “My two pretty girls…”

Staring up at me, Melissa raised her hands to her breasts and squeezed her nipples. I copied her movements. She licked her lips, then slowly slid her hands down over her long lean body to her crotch. Still watching me as I followed her actions, she spread her shaved pussy lips apart and pressed the middle finger of her right hand into her cleft. We both sensuously rubbed our fingers between our wet pussy lips.

On the sofa, my mom quickly pulled her loose dress off over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and had already removed her shoes, and she was naked now. I saw two fingers disappear deep inside her sex.

Melissa lifted her hand from her crotch and held it out toward me. I could see it glistening with her juices. I wasn’t sure that I had quite as much lubrication to show as she did, but I followed her again, and held my hand over the railing, showing her my own middle finger, shiny with wetness.

“M-Melissa,” panted my mom, “come here and… sit… on my lap.”

As Melissa walked to the sofa, I admired her amazingly long and beautiful legs. She smiled at me and blew me a kiss, then lowered herself onto my mother’s lap.

My mom kissed her first, and then, while she stared up at me, my mother licked the girl’s long nipples. That made me immediately want to touch my breasts. I put my fingers in my mouth, wetting them, and began teasing my own nipples.

After thoroughly licking and sucking the girl’s nipples, which Melissa clearly enjoyed, my mom put a cushion from the sofa on the floor in front of her. She had Melissa lie back on it, spreading her legs wide, lifting her pussy to my mother’s face.

I was leaning on the railing, one hand playing with my breasts and one moving between my legs as I watched the action below.

Before eating the girl’s cunt, my mom looked straight into my eyes. She extended her tongue toward me, making licking motions, and then she mouthed, “My little girl,” as she began lapping at Melissa’s smooth shaved pussy.

When my mother extended her wet tongue toward me, I started rubbing myself very fast, and when I saw the look on her face as she mouthed the words ‘my little girl’ and then thrust her tongue inside Melissa’s cunt, I had my first orgasm that night.

My eyes were closed as I gripped the railing with one hand, to keep from falling down, and rubbed my clit hard with the other hand, bringing myself to a second stupendous climax.

I could hear Melissa crying out in pleasure at the same time, and when I was finally able to open my eyes again, I saw that my mother was holding the girl’s small bottom in her hands and pulling her cunt hard against her face, but with her eyes fastened on my crotch. Melissa was coming again and again as my mother tongue-fucked her.

A few minutes later, they were in a ‘69’ position on the sofa, with my mom on top. Eagerly licking and fingering each other, they soon shared simultaneous orgasms. Then my mother turned around and mounted Melissa, placing her cunt directly over the girl’s, and fucked her furiously until both had climaxed again.

I was sitting down as I watched all this, my thin legs extended between the bannister posts, my naked pussy visible to below. I spread my little lips apart, rubbing myself, and loving it every time one of them would look up to see me exposing myself to them.

They finished with Melissa kneeling on the floor in front of my mother, eating her and finger-fucking her while my mom fondled her own breasts and stared up at me, watching me masturbate as she came in the girl’s mouth.

When my mom’s last orgasm was over, Melissa climbed on her lap and kissed her for a long time (my mom licked the girl’s face, tasting her own juices), and then Melissa slipped off to the side, faced toward me, spread her long legs apart, and inserted two fingers deep inside herself.

As I watched, she fucked herself hard, fulfilling my fantasy from the store restroom. I masturbated too, once more, and we climaxed at the same time.

Exhausted after all of that, the three of us caught our breath and rested for a while. Then Melissa stood up and began putting her dress back on. (She was still wearing the heels. Mine had been off for some time.)

I got up too, and headed toward my room. But I stopped to wave and call, “Goodnight.”

Melissa beamed up at me and blew me a kiss. “Goodnight, lover,” she said.

I fell into my bed, naked and spent. I was almost asleep when the door opened. My mom and Melissa came into my room. They both knelt beside my bed.

My mother kissed me first. She used her tongue — it surprised me that she would do that in front of someone else — but I liked how it felt, so I opened my mouth and kissed her that way too.

Then it was Melissa’s turn. She leaned over me and whispered, “You are a very lucky girl to have a mom like that.” I felt her hand creep under the sheets and find my small breast. She squeezed it gently. “And you are a very sexy little girl too.”

Her kiss was long and wet and open-mouthed, with a lot of tongue. Finally, giving my breast one last squeeze, she got to her feet and went to the door where my mother was waiting. I smiled at both of them. They blew me kisses and closed the door.

I fell instantly asleep and dreamed of being seduced by blonde women who looked like my mother.

Continue on to Chapter 7

By Naughty Mommy

It was late when we got home from the mall that night, past Molly’s bedtime and Kate’s too. We were all tired, so we went to our rooms without complaint.

After changing into some pajamas and brushing my teeth, I stopped and looked at myself in the full-length mirror on my closet door. Then I decided to take off what I was wearing so I could imagine what it would be like to have Melissa see me naked. I wondered if she would think my body was as sexy as I thought hers was.

I was very slender, that was good I supposed, and my legs were fairly long and had a nice shape. I didn’t have to worry about shaving them yet, they were still just smooth and almost hairless. Above my slit, I had a small amount of pubic hair, sort of light brown. I wondered if maybe I should try shaving it off, the way Rayne and Karen had, and then I wondered if Melissa shaved her pussy.

That thought made me start to tingle again between my legs. I put my hands down there and stroked myself a little bit. It felt nice, and it was exciting to touch myself like that while I was watching in the mirror.

I looked at my titties. Practically nothing there. Still just little bumps, with puffy nipples. But it always felt so good when I ran my hands over my nipples and played with them. I wondered what Melissa’s breasts looked like, and what it would be like to touch them. I closed my eyes and imagined that the body I was feeling was not my own, but hers….. and then I heard my mom coming down the hall toward my room.

I scampered over to my bed and jumped inside, laying on my back. Too late I realized that the overhead light was still on, and then my mother opened the door.

“Hey, baby — Oh, I was going to ask if you’re still awake, but I guess you are, with the light still on. Why are you in bed with the light on this way? Were you going to read or something?”

“Um, yeah.”

My mom sat on the side of my bed. She was wearing a sheer black nightie, very sexy, and she smelled great. It was my favorite perfume again. “How are you feeling now? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” I nodded, with the sheet pulled up to my chin to cover my nakedness.

“That’s good. You know, you missed out on some fun in the changing room tonight. Would you like me to tell you about it?”

“Sure.”

“Can I get in bed with you?”

“Um, okay.”

“Wait, let me turn out the light first. Maybe I’ll just leave the little lamp on.”

She switched on a small bedside table lamp, on the lowest setting, and then got up to turn off the overhead light. “There, now we’ve got the mood right,” she smiled as she came back to the bed.

When she lifted the sheet, she exclaimed, “Ooh, look what I see! Someone doesn’t have anything on at all!”

I blushed deeply, and even in the dim lighting, I’m sure she could see that.

“What a sexy little girl you are,” said my mother, “and what a beautiful body you have.” She was holding the sheet up high, admiring me.

“Mom, that’s embarrassing,” I said, covering my breasts with my hands and crossing my legs.

“Oh, sweetie, you shouldn’t be embarrassed about having a beautiful body.” She slid onto the bed next to me, leaving the sheet down below my knees.

“You should be proud of it, and show it off. Not to everyone, of course. But to, you know, to the women and the girls who come over to play our little game with us, and to me.”

I swallowed hard. I liked hearing her say that I had a nice body, but I was still sort of uncomfortable.

She gently took my hands and moved them down to my sides so my little titties were uncovered. Then she ran her fingertips over my bare shoulder and down my arm. The feeling made me shiver all over and my nipples instantly got hard. My mother stared at them, licking her lips.

“I like looking at you, sweetheart. You’re very, very pretty.”

She took my hand and raised it to her mouth. She kissed the back of my fingers, one by one, then put a warm kiss in the middle of my palm. As she looked into my eyes, she extended her tongue, licking the skin right between my fingers.

Something about the way she did that made me go all liquid inside. I was trembling.

Holding my hand in hers, she pressed my arm to her breasts. Then she asked, “Do you like having me look at you when you’re naked?”

I could hardly speak, but I managed to whisper, “Yeah, I… I do.”

Still clutching my hand against her breasts, my mother ran the fingertips of her other hand over my belly, very lightly. It made me feel all fluttery and I moaned. For a second I thought she might put her hand down there, between my legs, and I wasn’t sure what I would do if that happened. But she didn’t.

Instead she sat up and pulled her nightie off over her head. Now she was naked too. “There, that’s better,” she grinned.

My mom pulled the sheet up to our waists as she nestled in next to me. She was laying on her back. She took a deep breath, then let it out, and turned her face toward mine, smiling. “Did you think Melissa was pretty?”

“Um, yeah…”

“I did too. And did you notice how she was looking at Kate, and at you, and at me?”

“No. I, I guess not.”

“Of course, most of the fun was after you went to the bathroom and while we were in the fitting room.” My mother started playing with her breasts, fondling and squeezing her nipples while she talked.

“She came in with us, to help Kate try stuff on. We were all in there, me and Melissa and Kate and Molly.”

“Uh-huh.”

“The first thing we decided to try was the pink panties and bra. You know the ones I mean?”

“The pink and white ones? Yeah, I like those.”

“Well, while I was helping Kate take off her shorts and her shirt and her panties, then she—”

“She took off her panties??” I interrupted.

“Yeah, Kate got naked. Melissa didn’t seem to mind at all. I guess she must see girls like that all the time in the changing rooms. Great job, huh?”

I nodded.

“Anyway, Melissa told us she was going to bring in something else, and she went out for a minute and came back with a really hot-looking red thong. The fabric was so sheer it was almost transparent. She said she thought Kate might like it.”

“A thong? Really?”

“Yeah, and I was tempted by it. I’m sure Kate would look amazing in something like that, and you would too, sweetie, but the kid is still only 10 years old, so I started to say no. But then guess what happened?”

“What?”

My mom snuggled closer to me in bed as she continued massaging her breasts. “Melissa said she’d thought about suggesting the red thong because it was something she often wore herself. And then she pulled up her dress to show us that she was wearing one just like it.”

“No way.”

“Oh my god, what amazing legs she has. She pulled the dress all the way up past her waist, and you could clearly see that she was completely shaved, and then she turned around and showed us her bottom.”

“Really?”

“Yes! Now don’t you wish you’d been there?”

I didn’t answer, thinking about what I had been doing at that exact same time.

“After Melissa let her dress down, I said to her, ‘Wait, let me see again. Turn around and pull up your dress for me, would you?’ She smiled, then turned around and this time very slowly drew the dress up over her thighs until we could see her perfect bottom. And I touched her.”

“No!”

“Yes!” My mother had one hand down between her legs now, while the other played with her breasts.

“I reached out and put my hand on her bottom. I said to her, ‘Oh my, you are so beautiful.’ And Kate said, ‘Mom!’ And then Melissa laughed and dropped her dress back down and turned around and said, ‘It’s okay, really, I don’t mind. I think your mom is a beautiful lady too.’ She looked into my eyes as she said that, Julie, and oh god, if your sisters hadn’t been there, I would have fucked… ooh, I’m gonna come…”

Her body quivered and she gasped and her hand squeezed her breast tight while the other one moved rapidly between her legs. I could tell by the sound that she was fucking herself with her fingers. As I watched her climax, I started touching my own nipples. I had never done that before with my mother in my bed.

It seemed that she was almost finished when she said, “If you had been there too, Julie, just you and me and Melissa, you could’ve watched her suck on my nipples, and watched me rub her little pussy and fuck her with my fingers, and— AHHHHH!!” She came again, harder and louder this time. I was afraid to touch my own pussy as I watched her, but I did start stroking my bare thigh with one hand while the other stayed on my nipples.

She suddenly kicked the sheets all the way off and threw open her thighs, putting both hands between her legs. I could see that she was spreading her pussy lips apart with her left hand and pushing the two middle fingers of her right hand deep inside herself. My mother fucked herself hard and fast.

When she started to come again, for the third time, I couldn’t resist any longer. I put my hand over my pussy and clenched my thighs together. It wasn’t enough to make me come right away, but it felt incredibly good.

Eventually my mom was exhausted. She lay there next to me, panting and sweating. She lifted her hand to her mouth and sucked and licked her fingers.

Then, still on her back, she turned her head to look at me. I was touching my nipples and clamping my thighs together. If she noticed what I was doing, she didn’t say anything. But she did ask, “Honey, what were you really doing in the bathroom tonight at Victoria’s Secret?”

I didn’t want to lie to her. Not after the way she was so open about sharing herself and everything with me. “I… I was masturbating.”

“I thought so,” she smiled. “Were you, did you come?”

“Uh-huh, yeah,” I smiled back.

She turned on her side, facing me. “And, do you want to tell me about, you know, was there anything or anyone in particular you were thinking about?”

“Melissa…” I whispered.

“Mm-hmm, nice.” She gave me a soft kiss on the lips. “Tell me what you were thinking about.”

“Well, I, um, when you guys were just looking at stuff in the store, I was kind of standing back and looking at her legs and thinking about what she would look like naked.”

“Uh-huh, and…”

“And that’s when I decided to tell you I had to go to the bathroom.”

“And then you went in and started touching yourself?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you take off all your clothes?”

“No, um, just my panties.”

“Just your panties. Ooh, that’s sexy.” My mother started caressing her own breasts again. “Honey, when I came to to the door to check on you, did you have your panties on then?”

“No, I, I was still, you know, touching myself.”

“Uh-huh, but did you put them back on?”

“Yeah, I did. And then I washed my hands.”

“Why?”

“Well, because they, you know, I could smell, um, you know…”

She leaned in very close and kissed me again on the mouth. I felt her tongue teasing my lips. She whispered, “Baby, if we are ever out shopping like that again, and if you go in somewhere and masturbate, promise me that when you come out you will not put your panties back on.”

“Really?”

“Yes! I love the idea of my sexy, naughty little 11-year-old girl walking around not wearing any panties. Especially if she’s just been touching herself and her pussy is still wet…”

She slid one hand back down between her legs again. “Do you want to masturbate with me now?”

“Now? Um, both of us?”

“Yes, together, at the same time.”

“I, I can try…”

“That’s a good girl. Turn on your side now and look at me. Look at me and kiss me while you touch yourself.”

I could tell it would not take her very long to come again. It seemed like once she got started, she was almost constantly on the verge of an orgasm. But I wasn’t sure if I could make myself come that fast.

I tried, though. I rubbed myself and I looked at her and we kissed a few times, but I couldn’t really get very close. She could see that I was having trouble and so she stopped before she had another climax.

“It’s okay, baby, we’ve had plenty of fun tonight. Thank you for letting me get in your bed and talk to you. I love you, darling.”

I wrapped my arms around her neck. “I love you too, Mommy, so much!!”

We kissed again, and this time I opened my mouth, letting her put her tongue inside. That felt funny, but I liked it.

Then my mother got out of bed, picked up her nightie from the floor, blew me a kiss, and left the room. I heard her checking in on Kate, and then on Molly, and a few seconds later I thought I could hear Molly’s voice out in the hall. I wasn’t sure why she would be awake, but it sounded like she was. But then my mother’s bedroom door closed and everything was quiet.

For a long time I laid there and thought about what an amazing day it had been.

As I recalled the beauty of Melissa’s long legs, and as I imagined what it would have been like to be with them in the fitting room while my mom was touching the girl’s bottom — right in front of Kate and even in front of 7-year-old Molly! — I touched myself and fantasized that Melissa was taking off all her clothes and that my sisters and I were watching while our mother put her hands all over Melissa’s body, and soon I was coming.

It was a long, slow, extended, warm, wet orgasm. When it was done, I turned on my side and lifted my hands to my face so I could smell my wetness. I tasted myself, and soon fell fast asleep.

I didn’t hear my mother’s bedroom door open again later as she returned little Molly to her room.

Continue on to Chapter 6