Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Note from JetBoy: This story is loosely adapted from another work from many years back, one I have been unable to locate. I reworked the original thoroughly, and trimmed away an incredibly tragic portion of the tale that was well written, but hardly erotic. Despite these changes, I offer fervent thanks and undying respect to the original author for the inspiration.

By JetBoy

part one

There was blood on my sister’s white pastel gown.

Melody had tiptoed into my room while I slept. She lit the candle next to my bed and was crying, frightened. I woke slowly to her tears, to her shadow, to her breathing, to her blood. I sat up in my bed and touched the wet part of her gown.

She asked me if she was going to die. Her shoulders were hunched, her face white with fear.

I gathered her into my arms, and she collapsed against me, weeping. I told her, No, darling, this just means you are having your first menses. I took a handkerchief from my night table, wiped her tears, then led Melody to the bath to clean her up.

Melody was ten that summer. She was a soft, sweet girl who had a genuine talent for happiness. So when my sister felt distressed or saddened, I would do anything within my power to bring that gentle smile back, to make the roses in her cheeks bloom afresh.

I helped Melody remove her gown as she asked me how we could keep this a secret from Mama. I told her not to worry as I began to wash her, explaining what was happening to her and why it was a moment of great beauty in the life of a woman.

I took in the exquisite sight of Melody’s naked body as I washed her, for she was fair of skin and gold of hair, a flawless creature; yet still a child. The crease of her sex had not sprouted hair yet, I observed.

As I noticed this, I wondered: might it be wrong to look at Melody in such a way? It was not, I quickly decided. As her elder sibling, I had every right to be curious about my sister’s journey into womanhood.

I washed Melody, soaping her all over, then rinsed her with warm water. I poured buckets of it over her slender body, the water that I had heated and left on the warm stove earlier. You see, I often loved to rise from my bed in the nighttime hours and feel the refreshing luxury of a bath.

I gently soaped her chest, so much like that of a boy — my own breasts were those of a budding fourteen year old girl — and as she held her arms out to me and I washed them, she hesitantly asked me if she was now a fallen woman.

I smiled and told her that this was purely natural, even the Bible tells us that these things happen to girls, that it is called a curse.

She bridled at that, and asked if that meant she was a vampire. We had recently filched a copy of Mr. Stoker’s book Dracula, which I had, unbeknownst to our parents, read to my sister in whispers after bedtime. Needless to say, the story made quite the impression on Melody.

I laughed, and she peered up at me as I said, No, silly one. It just means your body is now able to have a baby, but that will be a long time from now and will be determined by your husband.

Ivory, she said, I shall never marry. She had a determined look on her face, her jaw set in that firm way I knew so well.

I did not laugh at her. Instead, I said that was of her choosing. And did not add that I knew full well how she felt, for I myself had no desire to marry. Not ever. I cared not a fig for boys, or for men.

I continued to bathe my sister. I was always a good girl, as was Melody, and there was nothing wrong with doing this, adorning my sister’s naked body with water and soap. It was only a bath, after all. I washed Melody between the legs carefully, until she told me that she felt much better. I was now wide awake, all thoughts of sleep vanished from my mind.

Then my sister asked if I would mind taking off my gown, because she loved the feel of my hands on her body and wanted to touch me too.

I knew she secretly wanted to see me unclothed, to know how my sex looked, how large my breasts were. And I knew in that instant that I wanted her to see me naked, wanted my beloved sister to know what her own body would be like in a few short years.

I considered for a moment, then decided yes, I will do this.

I pulled off my gown swiftly, lest I find myself lacking courage to do so. Melody looked at me up and down, eyes wide with wonder, and I laughed as she touched a hand to one budding breast, then the other. She sighed in awe, perhaps musing on how her body was still that of a child.

Yet she now had her first menses, and I had to convince her this did not mean witchery was afoot, but that God works his wonders and chose to bless her with this phenomenon that some called “the curse.”

We laughed, both of us, at the ludicrousness of that phrase — quiet laughter, for this was a big drafty house and our parents slept on the far side. It was then that she leaned over the tub rim to examine my pubic down.

It was dark and silky soft and had grown into a lovely triangle all its own. She asked if she could touch it, as I drew back a bit.

No, I thought, this is not right, we should not… and yet I nodded.

Her fingers gently touched my sex and the down that framed it, caressing my pubes like she might stroke the soft fur of a friendly cat. I felt a certain thing happening there, a thing I had only experienced at the touch of my own hand.

Then Melody touched her index finger to my now moistened opening, where the bud nestled inside. I shivered deliciously for a slight second, feeling a sweet, sudden fury in my heart and in my belly. My sister quickly withdrew her hand, timidly asking if she had done something wrong. You see, she was a good girl and knew nought of such things as carnal pleasure.

I, on the other hand, was stunned by how wonderful her touch had felt and, heedless of the sin we were surely committing, wanted more.

I asked her, almost as though someone else were speaking through me, Do you remember when you were a babe, suckling at our mama’s breast?

She said, That was a long time ago, Ivory. Why do you ask?

Kneeling down close to her, bringing my left breast to her mouth, I asked her if she recalled feeling contentment at the suckling, and she softly replied that she did.

I said, Here, take my nipple into your mouth. You shall feel safe again, like a little girl.

I was unsure how she would react to this, but without a word, Melody brought her lips to my breast, drawing the pink tip of it into the warmth of her mouth.

She sucked and lightly nibbled on it, and stabs of the most astonishing pleasure surged through my body… pleasure that only grew stronger as she lifted her right hand and began to touch my other breast.

As my sister lavished these sweet attentions upon me, I felt a soft, sensual organ music rippling through my body, as though I were being played like a piano; as though Melody was shaping me into something I had never been before, and — say it was not so! — might never be again.

I was drunk from the joy of this new game, feeling the desire to touch Melody in the same way.

As I brought my hand to her nipples, brushing and stroking them with my fingertips, Melody purred with delight, her mouth moving to my other breast.

Wanting more, I placed my right hand onto her thigh, allowing it to slip between my sister’s legs to gently caress her slit. She took her mouth from my breast and sighed happily, her childish body beginning to shiver all over, though it was very warm in the room.

I allowed my finger to slip inside her tiny opening and touched the little bump there, soon carrying my sister to a release that I had myself experienced but a few times. My own sex now felt wet; and Melody, as if she somehow sensed this, took her hand from my breast and put her fingers to my mons, quickly finding the right spot, just as I had found hers.

As we pleasured one another, I pulled my body close to hers, my breasts pressing and sliding against her sweet chest as though they were kissing.

And we did this thing and felt the fever build and it became a gentle roaring in us as we began to whimper and sigh in our mutual delight. Soon my sex issued warm liquid on her fingers and my Melody’s legs and torso began to shiver as she enjoyed her own pleasure.

Afterward, I climbed into the tub with her, where we lovingly washed one another, paying special attention to the sweet spots between our thighs. Melody asked if she could suckle my breasts for a moment more, so I let her… and then we put on our night clothes once more.

I led Melody back to her room and tucked her under the light pink coverlet. She twined her arms round my neck and said, Thank you, dear sister, for making me so happy.

I leaned down, kissed her lingeringly on the lips and whispered, It was you who made me happy, little one. She looked up at me somewhat astonished, for I had never kissed her in such a way before.

I snuffed the candle and said, I love you, sister.

She repeated this to me as she settled under the covers, then quickly drifted into sleep.

I went through the darkness to my bed, and did not go to sleep for hours, for I had much on my mind, and needed to carefully think things through. I closed my eyes. Then and there, I pleasured myself until I spent, accompanied by the vision of my beautiful sister.

In my mind, she was naked and lovely, just as I had seen her in the bath.

***

part two

I was brushing and lightly curling Melody’s hair that early spring Saturday. Mama and Papa were off to the house of one of Papa’s business partners in a neighboring town, having had their manservant ready the lorry and get the horse groomed and fed early this dark morning, so they would be ready to leave on time.

As for our cook, she was at home, attending to her sick husband, so my sister and I had the house to ourselves.

We were seated in the greatroom, a soft summer breeze coming through the open window that caused the linen curtains billowing gently. Melody was on a stool as I knelt beside her, curling the long locks that fell almost to her bottom.

Mama and Papa would not be back till late evening. The day belonged to us.

Melody and I had discovered more wonderful things to explore with one another since that night in the bath. We had both felt a measure of guilt afterward, but dd not let it hold sway over us for long. Even now, though she and I were engaged in an ordinary pastime, we were doing it naked.

Melody and I had become childishly bold since that first time. We spent many an evening exploring each other’s bodies, discovering the sweet, sweet pleasures locked within us and the wondrous ways to coax them out. I marveled at her slender, hairless form, asking myself if I had been as exquisite, as flawless at her age.

As for Melody, she delighted in my breasts, loving their softness; her eyes widening in awe as she examined my sex, her fingers toying with the downy thatch between my thighs, telling me how she wished she could have hair there too. Then, our eyes would meet in a look that spoke more than any words could, and our childish study of each other’s bare bodies would become something like love.

My sister seemed to glow with happiness as I brushed her hair. Now she turned her face to me, took a nipple between her lips and nursed upon my breast, then placed her hand on the other, caressing the tip to a hardness that caused my sex to moisten almost immediately.

I sighed happily, loving the touch of her hand, her mouth. She delicately bit the nipple, as I had taught her. Me, who had never experienced such a thing with another.

I was still a virgin, as was Melody. To be otherwise would have resulted in the shaming of our parents and us; no matter that our Papa owned the town bank and was an important personage.

Melody, sometimes wise beyond her years, asked me in a quiet whisper one night as we lay together in my bed under a quilt, touching each other intimately, that since we were far too young to know love with a man, would it not make sense for us to be lovers instead? It was sweet to share pleasure as we did, but what if our love as sisters became something more?

I held her, our bare bodies pressed tightly together and said Oh, Melody, that is a wondrous plan. And for the first time, we kissed.

Now I used the brush to make my love’s hair beautiful, all the while watching her nurse at my breast, suckling me as if she were a babe while her hand explored the contours of my other breast.

I dropped the brush, and in the red flocked wallpapered room, perfumed by the smell of jasmine wafting in through the open window, I hastened my naked sister to the bed and drew her on top of me in a rush of mad desire. Our mouths met in a loving kiss.

And I used my tongue to open my sister’s mouth, banishing all extraneous thoughts, for here we were, fourteen-year-old Ivory and ten-year-old Melody, naked and making love, two sisters entwined in a forbidden passion.

As my hands went to Melody’s flat chest and pert nipples, tickling them with my fingers to make her laugh, our mouths moistly parted and we gazed adoringly at one another, happy in the love we shared. I gently pushed her on her back, taking one rosebud nipple between my lips, then its twin.

As ever, I found them dainty and sweet, loving how they stiffened in my mouth as I suckled her. Meanwhile Melody was busy exploring my — she was the first one to say the word — cunt, though we felt as if lightning would strike us dead that instant. In fact, it did not, so perhaps we were granted a reprieve from the Almighty for these acts. But they weren’t acting, the way Papa and Mama act, putting on masks in order to face the outside world. Like Reverend Jonas also acts. Like teachers act. All putting on a show. All pretending.

We were not pretending, for when Melody and I said we loved each other, we meant it. As sisters. As lovers. I had been the first to explore her cunt — there, again I said it — with my mouth and tongue, and now I did it again, sliding between her thighs to lick her. She squirmed and giggled and cried out, Stop, Ivory — stop! I knew, though, what she really was saying: Don’t you dare stop, sister… don’t you dare.

We had both bathed earlier, and she smelled of soap and fresh water as I tickled her clitoris with my tongue, clutching her bare hips as she started panting, her body moving in a kind of tandem with mine. As she began to perspire, so did I. As I felt my nipples harden. As I felt that special tingle building in my own sex.

I began to fondle myself as I continued to pleasure my baby sister’s most private place. Oh, how we loved looking at each other down there. And touching, that too. Opening one another’s sexes with curious fingers. Seeing them close. Wondering how much it would hurt to break the hymen. I had told Melody to my regret about that, for it worried her for a time… until I convinced her she would not have to know that pain if she was never intimate with a man.

I raised my head from her Delta of Venus, brought my breast to her vagina and rubbed her sex with my erect nipple, for I was close to my own apex and wanted to somehow be inside her, like a man with a woman. But this was all there was, at least all I knew how to do.

So I put my hand to her clit and I fingered the two of us together… and I brought my sister off in a huge wave of bliss. And instead of her lying there and enjoying it selfishly, like so many other girls her age might, she pushed me over on my back and lowered her face between my thighs to kiss the wetness there.

First she garlanded my cunt with loving kisses until I squealed in delight, then plunged her tongue deep inside me, surprising the hell forgive me Papa or God I am not sure which from me as she licked inside the opening. Then she drew back and, jaw set in determination, thrust two fingers into my vagina and broke my hymen with her finger as she coaxed blood and fluids out of me. And I came in violent waves, knowing ecstasy like I never, ever had before.

I think I fainted for a second or two from the intensity of it. To be fucked, yes, this was fucking, this counted — and Melody had taken my maidenhood. As I opened my eyes I saw her kneeling before me with blood on her fingers, frightened that she had done me an injury.

I immediately took her into my arms and explained it was my hymen she had broken, and she asked hurriedly if it had hurt. I kissed her cheeks, murmuring Oh blessed girl, no, not at all. I have never had such deep joy before in my life.

And we kissed.

Then Melody said, We truly are lovers, then aren’t we? I broke your hymen and that means we are married.

I held her. I would have to explain sometime soon, just not on this day.

After a while we got up and went to wash, after which we lay naked on my bed, entwined together, drowsing in a lover’s slumber, perfectly content at the end of this lovely golden day. Dear God, I thought, bless Melody forever.

And, God, I thought, thank you.

It was a most restful sleep. And the house was cool when we woke up, so Melody and I dressed, slowly and lovingly, preparing for our parents’ return some few hours hence.

***

part three 

It was very late at night… around three in the morning.

Ten-year-old Melody had not been able to sleep, so she had wandered off into the fields in the back of her home, and was sitting quietly, observing a waxing crescent moon and the surrounding stars. All the while, she thought of her older sister Ivory. Her lover.

A magic grotto, she had called her sister’s vagina, especially loving the taste of it. But every part, every aspect of Ivory’s sex was a marvel — the labia, the clitoris, the warmth of Ivory’s wet flesh against her lips and tongue. But she also loved to feel Ivory’s mouth on her — licking until she cried out loud, then kissing her so sweetly, allowing Melody to taste her own cunt on her sister’s lips.

Melody wore naught but a thin slip, for it was an exceedingly warm night. She was lying on her back in the grass, accompanied by crocus hums and the scent of wild onions. She pulled her slip off and cast it aside, leaving her naked. The grass felt delicious against her bare skin.

It was summer’s end. School in three weeks. She put her hand to her bare slit, trying to imagine how it felt to Ivory’s hand, wondering if her big sister ever tried to imagine how she felt to Melody.

The little girl began to masturbate beneath the August moon.

Ivory, to her baby sister’s delight, had agreed with Melody’s idea. They would live together for the rest of their lives, outwardly as sisters, but as lovers in private. Melody would kiss the dark cleft of Ivory’s bottom again, as she had done a week ago, and touched it with tongue pressing inside, sending her older sister into such a state that her cunt had dripped copiously. Ivory had yet to kiss her in the same place, Melody thought. But she would do so, and soon, The child had no doubt of that. She was secretly pleased with herself for having come up with a wonderful new way for them to make love before her big sister had thought of it.

She teased her nipples, loving how they became taut to the touch, still masturbating with the left hand. She pressed her finger in deeper until it touched the barrier of her hymen, then thought of her older sister breaking it, as she had Ivory’s. This, surely, would make them lovers forever.

Men, as far as Melody was concerned, were useless, of no real value. If other girls wanted boys’ filthy things stuck into their bodies, that was their business. She and her sister were above that sort of foolishness.

Standing above her naked younger sibling, Ivory quietly said, “Hello, my love.”

Melody, unafraid, reached up for Ivory’s hand, then pulled the girl down to her, wrapping her arms tightly around the fourteen-year-old, holding her older sister’s nightgown-clad body to her naked one. They kissed passionately, and Melody’s hand slipped beneath Ivory’s gown to touch the older girl’s sex, delighted to find that her sister had gone without knickers.

Melody opened Ivory’s cunt with a fingertip, eagerly kissing her sister as they rolled in the grass together. Stopping Melody with a finger on her lips, Ivory rose to divest herself of her sheer sleeping gown, letting it fall on top of her sister’s slip.

Rising to her knees, Melody began to kiss and nuzzle her sister’s soft tummy, then slowly moved down to lick languidly at Ivory’s sex, loving the wonderful tickly feeling of her sister’s downy pubes against her mouth. Purring with delight, Ivory leaned down to press her lips against Melody’s fair hair, then gently drew the little girl to her feet. “Come, my love,” she whispered, her tongue emerging to tease her sister’s ear, “let us go for a swim.”

Holding hands, they padded to a stream a yard or so away and climbed in together, naked in the cold, clear water. As the moon and stars seemed to dance in the stream, the girls took turns licking and fondling each other’s breasts, pausing often for juicy, passionate kisses. They held one another tightly as they stood in the flowing coolness.

They sat on the bank, side by side, and Ivory dipped her delicate hand into the water, then touched wet fingers to Melody’s forehead. The younger girl closed her eyes, feeling a trickle of water roll down her face as Ivory said, “I anoint you with moon water, and make you the fair princess of my heart.” Melody looked up and smiled.

Ivory marveled at the alabaster whiteness of her baby sister’s body in the moonlight, the girl so slender and small and impeccably made, crafted so flawlessly; loving Melody far too much to care that her younger sister was already far more beautiful than she.

At the same time, Melody was thinking, my body is so babyish compared to Ivory’s, my legs and arms are still sticks, but Melody already has the legs and arms of a woman; she is tall and thin and somehow shapely, too. Her breasts are beautiful as I see them and suckle them, she has a lovely curvy bottom and mine is so flat and uninteresting. I will never grow hair down there, and Ivory’s down is so very soft and comely, how I love her, oh how I love her.

And the night was warm and magical and protective and the two sisters kissed like lovers once again.

We shall never part, Ivory thought, we shall fight dragons and be warrior queens; we shall live in our own castle, protected by our love. How I wish I had a face of glass so Melody could see her own face when she looks at mine, reflected, and know her own beauty and perfection just as I do.

They walked naked through the fields of grass and the breeze flowed sweetly round them. They lay down, Melody beside Ivory, face to face as they began to fondle each other’s slits. They came, almost the same time, as each kissed the other’s mouth and face and nipples.

And afterwards, Ivory thought yes, now… and positioned her sister on all fours, opening the cheeks of Melody’s bottom with trembling hands and, taking a deep breath, gazing utterly enthralled at the child’s dark cleft. She put her face to the opening and licked her lustily, as Melody wriggled and cried, “Oh sister… mmmm, yes, oh that is so wonderful…”

And the younger girl came again, then the lovers then lay side by side together, sharing sweet kisses, stroking each other’s hair that was transformed into spun silver in the moonlight. In time, one of them noted the lateness of the hour, so Melody licked Ivory’s slit one last time until her big sister moaned from the joy of it, then they hastily dressed and ran, hand in hand, back into the house.

***

part four

I have begun setting down an account of my sister Melody and I in a journal, telling of how we found one another as lovers, and what happened after.

It began with fear. It progressed to joy and wonder. It grew into love. Now it comes with sadness.

Two nights ago, Melody took a candle and pushed it deep into herself to break her hymen. She bled quite a lot.

Tonight, Melody confessed to me what she had done. She had come into my room some hours ago when we were supposed to be scribbling arithmetic problems on our little chalkboards, and had told me this thing. I held her in my arms, reaching beneath her petticoats to stroke her mound, which she said was still sore.

She asked me why God gave girls hymens. Did the Almighty hate girls that much, that he has to hurt them, and the period too and the attendant sickness and the blood pouring out of one’s body? Melody said that He should have forgiven Eve long ago, for she had done the best she could, the best anyone could.

It is later now, the night upon us, the house silent. I finish my diary, put the key to the lock and hide it in the armoire drawer beneath my underthings. I lie alone on my bed in the darkness and cry. We poor little lovers. Whatever is to become of us? In time, I drift off into an uneasy sleep.

I am awakened by Melody, who has pushed her way into my narrow bed and stretches out beside me. I turn to my sister and kiss her lips. She is naked. As am I, soon enough.

Will you nurse me, Ivory? she whispers.

Certainly, I say, and put a breast to her lips. I truly love to feel her mouth, her tongue, her teeth on my nipple. And when she tucks a hand between my thighs to fondle my cunt, then puts her fingers inside me, it is as if I were blessed by Providence. Though it be sin in the eyes of the world, I refuse to know guilt. Our loving is pure, sweet and good.

I am caught on sparks like lightning inside me. She bites hard on my nipple, making me cry out. Then she pushes her fingers even further inside me. And I feel the weight of it, the sheer enormity of what it means to be fucked by my beautiful sister.

We have learned to talk of our secret games like that, my sister and I, to make our love even more exciting. It is our revenge on a world that has made Mama a drudge and sucked the soul out of her, and Papa who, with the turning of each calendar page, becomes more of a tyrant. When we lie together, the cares of our lives are scattered to the winds.

I press into my darling, reaching around her slender body, holding her close as she grinds herself into me, our sexes pressed tightly together. It is a hot night, even here in this cool house, and I sigh and pant and sweat against her. We might be two rutting animals, not proper young ladies at all.

I part her buttocks, prying the cheeks open with one hand, sliding my thumb deep into her nether hole. She gasps my name, then speaks it over and over again, as if she were praying. Perhaps she is. Our legs are scissored, hearts beating erratically as we thrash upon the bed.

Our strength gives out before passion does, and we fall apart, lying tangled amidst the love-dampened sheets, the breath harsh and hot in our lungs.

As my heart eases into a more placid rhythm, I cup Melody’s mound, then slip the index finger into her, where no hymen remains to prevent me from fully penetrating my sister. I finger her as deeply as I can, but gently, gently.

I am careful not to hurt her, but need to show that she could have asked me to break it. I am the horse trying to get into the barn door, now the barn door needs no getting into. I feel her clitoris and I put my mouth to hers and we kiss hungrily as she holds her legs apart and allows me to straddle her mouth.

She nuzzles my light tuft of pubic down, then puts her tongue to my opening and begins licking me. It is so deliciously animal-like now between us. We are going at each other like I imagine boys go at girls. The moonlight, spilling like quicksilver through the parted curtains, casts us as alabaster-sculpted nymphs, entwined in the midst of their loving.

As Melody drinks from my vagina, as I plumb the depths of her openings with my pumping hand, we are close to that rapturous feeling that only sex and love mingled can bring. And suddenly, the pleasure is upon us both. And there is sweet wine produced by our spendings, and we taste each other’s and ours.

And that is how it is, Mr. God Almighty, sir. If Melody and I should not do such things, how then are they possible? How could we have received this precious gift, the knowledge and ability to show our love in this beautiful way, only to be forbidden to partake? We choose to make each other happy, if that is all right with You.

And even if it is not.

We lie sweaty and close and content. Our hair is matted and tangled and we are breathing fast and hard like beasts in the field on a hot day.

Melody, I say in a weakened voice, pushing some of her hair away from my mouth. She twists her face to mine as I say, The candle, Melody… there was no need for that. I would have done it for you. I would have been gentle. My voice trembles a bit.

Melody contemplates for a while, and then whispers, I didn’t want you to think badly of me if I had cried.

I touched my sister’s hair and whispered: If you cry, come to me; if you are sad, come to me, if you are alone, you shall always have me. I am your sister, your lover, for as long as you want. And she smiled at me, her mouth claiming mine in a tender kiss.

We lay together in the aftermath of pleasure, until it was time for us to bathe away the proof of our forbidden games. Tomorrow was already there, though it was still very dark. Within a few hours, we would be in school.

But night would surely come again. And in its darkness, rest assured, there will be the sharing of love.

The End