Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Jeneee

Amanda quickly jumped off the bed and before anyone could say anything she ran over to Kimmie and hugged her, much to the girl’s surprise, saying, “I was just talking about you, and here you are, oh wowzie! I’ve been dying to meet you since Sylvia’s told us so much about you.”

Still slightly dazed over such a warm greeting Kimmie stood there with her arms at her sides debating to herself whether to return the hug, looking first over at her mother, then at Sylvia who finally coughed, feeling a little embarrassed, momentarily at a loss for words.

“Er…” she stammered, “…let me introduce you two. Kayla and Amanda, you’ve already met my sister Lynne a few times, and this pretty girl is my niece, Kimmie,” she told them. “Kimmie, say hi to Kayla and meet Amanda. She’s Kayla’s daughter. And as you can see she is pretty friendly,” she added with a giggle. A slight smile formed on Kimmie’s face and she nodded hello to Kayla and then finally lifted her arms to give Amanda a small hug in return.

“Nice to meet you too, Amanda,” she replied, as Amanda now squeezed her new friend once again.

Lynne, who’d had a frown on her face as she watched all this, then turned to her sister once more and said. “Now, Sylvia, will you please tell us what happened?” And finally the story of the accident came out.

“I was on my way over to Kayla’s for dinner and was going through the intersection at Main and Broad streets – you know, there’s a traffic light there and I had the green light – when this SUV went through the red right in front of me. I screeched on the breaks but couldn’t avoid hitting the tail end of it and if it hadn’t been for my seat belt and the air bag I would have been hurt much worse. Even so, the seat belt really hurt my ribs and I was sure they were broken ’cause I could hardly breathe I was in so much pain. Somebody helped me out and sat with me on the sidewalk until the ambulance and police came, and then they rushed me here to emergency. They took ex-rays and did a lot of other tests and gave me shots of pain killers which luckily worked pretty fast so I was soon able to breathe a bit better. You just missed the doctor, Lynne. She was here a few minutes ago and thankfully I don’t have any broken ribs or any other broken bones, but they are not sure if I have other internal injuries so they are keeping me here overnight, just in case. My poor ribs are badly bruised though.”

“What happened to the guy you ran into? It was a guy, I’ll bet, wasn’t it?” Kayla asked.

“Yeah. He wasn’t even hurt but his SUV was bashed in quite a bit at the back. My poor car had the whole front end caved in and it’s probably a write-off,” Sylvia replied, a glum look on her face. “Now I’ll have to deal with the insurance company as well as the police, I suppose.”

“Well, don’t worry about that now, sis,” Lynne consoled her, squeezing her hand. “You concentrate on getting better. And I’m sure they will charge the other guy so it will all work out in the end.”

“Yeah,” chimed in Amanda,” and you’ll probably get a new car out of the deal too,” she smiled, eying Kimmie who had now joined her on the foot of the bed. She’s really cute, even cuter than she looked in her photographs, Amanda thought to herself, noticing that Kimmie’s boobies had grown a lot since the pictures from last summer – even though she still wasn’t wearing a bra – leaving the prominent nipples at the peak of her firm young buds quite visible through her thin, white top. She was wearing loose, red shorts which hung down to mid-thigh, but still revealed her pretty, slim legs, one of which was now firmly pressed against one of Amanda’s. Or more accurately, one of Amanda’s was firmly rubbing up against one of Kimmie’s – Amanda was never one to let an opportunity like that pass her by. As Lynne and Kayla continued to talk with Sylvia about the accident Amanda leaned close to Kimmie and whispered in her ear, “I saw they have some food dispensing machines down the hall beside the nurse’s station. Do you want to go get a soda with me? I can get some money from my mom.”

“Sure, okay, but I have some change so I can pay for it,” the young teen replied as she slid carefully off the bed. “We’re going to get a drink from down the hall, mom,” Kimmie announced. “Can we get anything for anyone?”

“Yeah, bring me back a beer,” Sylvia joked, catching the eye of her frowning sister who didn’t think it was the least bit funny.

“Nothing for me, thanks honey,” replied Kayla, smiling knowingly at her daughter, realizing she was scheming to be alone with Kimmie.

“Me neither,” said Lynne. “And hurry up back, and don’t get lost,” she added.

“How can we get lost, mom? It’s just down the hall,” Kimmie chided her mother over her shoulder as she and Amanda left the room, closing the door behind them.

“We can go down to the restaurant on the first floor instead if you like. You can always tell your mommy you didn’t have the right change for the machines,” Amanda suggested with a sly wink as soon as they started walking down the hallway. “Then she’d think we really got lost. I don’t think your mom likes me that much,” she added, not giving Kimmie the chance to comment on her suggestion.

“What gives you that idea?” Kimmie asked, a surprised look on her face. “She’s only just met you. And I don’t know if I have enough money for the restaurant, unless we’re just getting sodas, that is.”

Amanda grabbed Kimmie’s hand and stopped her just as they were passing the elevator. “Yeah, let’s go down then and we’ll just get something to drink. And I don’t think your mom likes me or my mommy much because we’re lesbians, that’s why.”

“You’re a lesbian?” Kimmie asked her, a shocked look on her face. “But you’re only what, ten or eleven? So how do you know what you are yet?”

“I’m going to be eleven next month and I’ve known for a long time that I like girls. And I think your mommy’s afraid we’ll turn you into one, a lezzie, that is,” she added with a giggle as the elevator door opened in front of them and two nurses came off. There were still two other nurses left going down with them so they didn’t say anymore to each other, Amanda trying unsuccessfully to stifle a few giggles as she and Kimmie exchanged glances. She noticed that one of the nurses was really young and cute; the other was older but still kind of attractive. It turned out that they were also headed for the restaurant, and the girls just followed behind when they reached the first floor, still holding hands. Amanda couldn’t help overhearing the older nurse saying, “Oh, aren’t they so cute together? They must be sisters.”

“Or maybe lovers,” the younger one whispered back jokingly, but also loud enough to be heard, at which point Amanda let out a loud gasp, while Kimmie looked embarrassed and blushed.

“Yeah, we’re lovers,” Amanda called out and, as the nurses turned around not realizing they had been overheard, she suddenly stopped and faced Kimmie, giving the startled girl a long, wet kiss on the lips. She then turned back to the nurses, a big smile on her face. “See? Told you,” and continued walking hand in hand with Kimmie behind them toward the restaurant, adding loudly with a giggle, “And I bet you two are, too, aren’t you?” as Kimmie tried to shush her.

“You’ve got quite a mouth on you, little girl,” the older nurse said with a slight frown on her face as they reached the tray rack at the head of the line-up in the restaurant.

“You have no idea,” Amanda replied, overtly licking her lips as Kimmie gasped beside her. The younger nurse couldn’t help laughing out loud as her friend shook her head and muttered something about ‘the younger generation these days.’ Since the girls were only getting drinks they grabbed their sodas and slipped past the nurses who were trying to decide what to get for their dinners. When they reached the cashier Amanda looked back, catching the eye of the younger nurse and winked at her. She responded by giving the little girl a thumbs up.

“I think she likes me,” Amanda giggled to Kimmie. “I bet she’s a lesbian, too,” she added.

“You’re terrible, you know that?” Kimmie told her with a grin as they headed for a table in the corner. “But I still like you anyway.”

“And I like you too. You’re so pretty,” Amanda replied as she placed her drink on the table and sat down in her chair, leaning back against the wall. “I’ve liked you ever since Sylvia showed me your pictures from last summer, and I’ve been bugging her to bring you over to our place when she comes, and here you are. I’m so happy to finally meet you, and I’m sure my mom is too.”

“Oh my god, she didn’t show you those pictures!” exclaimed Kimmie, blushing once more. “They were supposed to be private. And why would your mom be happy to meet me?”

“Well, she only showed them to me and mommy, so don’t worry. I know she’d never have showed them to your parents. They’d probably freak out if they saw you posing like you did,” Amanda giggled. “You looked so sexy in some of them, especially where you’re pulling your bikini bottoms up tight against you.”

“She made me do that,” explained Kimmie. “I didn’t really want to but when I saw the picture, you’re right, it did look kind of sexy. You can see the shape of my…you know,” she blushed.

Amanda leaned closer to her. “Your cunt, you mean,” she whispered with a sly look on her face. Kimmie gasped once more as Amanda sat back again and drank some more of her soda, licking her lips suggestively as she grinned at Kimmie.

“I’m not supposed to say words like that. My mom and dad would kill me if they heard me say that,” Kimmie replied, nevertheless feeling herself becoming slightly aroused by her new, precocious young friend. My god, she’s only ten, she thought to herself, and she seems to know so much about sex. “But I’ve heard my aunt say words like that a few times,” she continued. “And my mom’s told her off about it, especially if I’m close enough to overhear. Is that what all lesbians call it? A cunt?” she half whispered, looking around again in case anyone was close enough to hear them.

“Some do,” Amanda replied. “Or pussy, or cunny, or maybe even snatch or slit,” she giggled. “There’s lots of different names I’ve heard Kayla and my mommy use. But I like ‘cunt.’ Oh, by the way, have you ever worn a thong? Me and my mom were at the mall today and she bought me a real sexy thong but it was a bit baggy when I tried it on, so this other lady we met there, she’s a waitress at the restaurant – her name’s Gloria and she looks so hot – she’s coming round next weekend to fix it on me so that it fits me properly. I can hardly wait. You should come too, with Sylvia, if she’s better by then. So, do you? Ever wear a thong, I mean.”

“No, I don’t have any thongs. My mom would never buy me anything like that anyway so I just wear panties, but I do have some cute bikini ones that are kinda small. I had to beg her to buy them for me and she finally gave in. As you can tell, my mom’s sometimes a bit of a frump. What kind of undies do you usually wear?”

“Take a look,” Amanda giggled, leaning back against the wall in her chair and opening her legs a little so that Kimmie could look up her skirt.

“Oh my god, you’re naked underneath,” Kimmie gasped, staring at Amanda’s pussy. “I can see your…you know. You’d better be careful nobody else sees,” she whispered, looking around the restaurant again to see if anyone was looking at them. But nobody seemed to be paying them any attention, and she found herself looking back up Amanda’s skirt, unable to tear her gaze away from her new friend who didn’t seem to be in any hurry to close her legs, enjoying the effect her exhibitionism was having on Kimmie.

“So, what’s it like having a lesbian for an aunt?” Amanda asked, now becoming conscious of her own arousal from the apparent interest Kimmie was showing in her cunt. “Has she ever, you know, like, cum on to you…or tried to, like, touch you?”

Kimmie gulped down some more of her soda and looked up at Amanda’s face once more, hesitating a little before replying. “Not really,” she finally answered. “I think she’s afraid of what my mom would say if she did. Her and my father were not that happy when she finally got up the courage to tell them she was a lesbian, especially when they thought back to the times she used to babysit me a few years ago before they even knew that about her. I mean, she’s hugged me a lot and even kissed me but that’s what aunts do anyway so it never seemed weird to me. I always loved sitting on her lap when I was younger and cuddling or tickling her. We used to play a lot of games like that. It was so much fun the nights she looked after me and I always got to stay up late, except we never told my parents. It was our little secret.”

“So what did it mean to you when you found out she was gay? What did you think?” Amanda asked, curious to get some idea of what Kimmie thought about lesbians.

“Well first of all my parents never told me anything when she came out to them. So it was only when Sylvia herself asked me if they’d said anything to me about her that I even knew there was something going on. I remember shaking my head and asking her what she meant. So it was then that she explained everything to me, saying that since I was now eleven I should know more about her. That was two years ago and it didn’t bother me at all ’cause we’d been taught at school in sex education all about the fact that some girls love other girls instead of going out with guys, and I remember Sylvia giggling when I asked her if she kissed and sexed with girls and not boys. She asked me how much I wanted to know and I said everything. So I got all the details. I hadn’t even thought much about what guys and girls did together besides kissing, which some of my girlfriends at school were already talking about doing, so it was a bit of a shock to hear what girls can do together, and what she’d actually done with other girls herself, including with your mom.”

And with me too, Amanda thought to herself, but decided to keep her mouth shut, for the time being anyway.

“I think I kinda blew her mind a bit last summer,” Kimmie continued, “when she took those pictures of me, ’cause I asked her if she thought I was sexy. So when she said I was I really got into some of the poses and like I told you, even though it felt a bit weird pulling my bikini bottoms up tight against my…cunt – there, I said it,” she giggled, “- after I saw the photos I could see why she thought I looked sexy.” She paused again to drink the remainder of her soda, and then added, looking back down between Amanda’s still open thighs again, “just like you look sexy now.”

“Oh wowzie, you really think I’m sexy?” Amanda asked her with a big grin on her face.

Kimmie blushed again, glancing once more up Amanda’s skirt at the cute, bald, ten year old pussy the young girl still had on display. “Well, yes,” she replied “not every girl sits in a restaurant showing off her naked cunt to someone she’s only just met, so that’s kinda sexy, yes.”

“See how much you’ve learned already today?” Amanda giggled. “That’s the third time you’ve called it a cunt, and this time you didn’t even hesitate. I think there’s hope for you yet,” she added slyly.

“You’re so bad, Amanda, but I love being with you. But we’d better get back up to the room now. We’ve been gone so long and I just know my mom’s going to yell at me.

“Yeah, I suppose we’d best go then,” Amanda reluctantly agreed, standing up and pulling her skirt back down. “But,” she added smiling, “I gotta go pee first so let’s go find the washroom.”

“It’s right outside in the hallway,” Kimmie told her. “I noticed it when we were coming in. And I have to pee too,” she added. She grabbed their empty bottles and left them on the tray beside the cafeteria entrance on the way out. As they left they passed by the two nurses who were still eating their dinner. Amanda smiled and waved goodbye to them, getting a wink in return from the younger one. The other one just ignored her.

Once inside the washroom Amanda grabbed Kimmie’s hand and whispered, “Come on in with me, I wanna show you something.” And before Kimmie could protest she dragged her into the first open stall they came to and closed the door behind them, leaving them squeezed together in the tiny, cramped space. It appeared they had the washroom to themselves anyway, but just in case, Amanda continued to whisper. “Watch what I can do,” she giggled, pulling up her skirt and standing over the toilet. Then, as Kimmie looked on in amazement the little girl pulled open the lips of her pussy and directed a stream of pee forcefully into the bowl, most of it finding the target until the flow eventually tapered off toward the end and a few drips splashed and splattered about, some running down inside her thighs. Grabbing some toilet paper she quickly dried herself, smiling triumphantly at her new friend. “See,” she told Kimmie, “you don’t have to be a boy to pee standing up. Wanna try for yourself?”

Kimmie looked at her doubtfully. “You can do it,” Amanda urged. “Here, I can help you.” And before Kimmie could protest Amanda had nudged her new friend in front of the toilet, grabbed the waistband of her shorts and pulled them and her panties down to her ankles. “Better step out of them,” Amanda suggested. “Just in case,” she giggled. The young teen looked unsure of what to do so once again helpful Amanda stood behind her and reached around in front of the young teen, grasping Kimmie’s labia and spreading them as widely apart as she could manage since, as she soon discovered to her delight, they were a little slippery. “Now, hunch down a bit and just… well, just let go,” she giggled encouragingly.

Tentatively at first, but then gaining more confidence as she seemed to be hitting the target, Kimmie peed into the bowl, watching more and more excitedly as her piss blended with Amanda’s, foamy bubbles quickly forming on the surface of the mixture. Then, as it had with Amanda, as her flow started to peter out it began to run awry and dribble down her thighs, eventually reaching her feet. Quickly, Amanda rolled off a strip of toilet paper and crouched down, running it up Kimmie’s legs in spite of the teen’s weak protest that she could do that herself. But there was no stopping Amanda now as she finally found herself at eye level with the thirteen year old’s pussy, noticing a small thatch of fine, dark hair surrounding her plump outer lips, while her prominent inner labia protruded quite noticeably from in between. She gently rubbed the toilet tissue over Kimmie’s cunt, enjoying the obvious slippery mixture of her pee with her pussy juices, once again indicating to the young girl that her new friend was definitely aroused by what she was experiencing.

“Amanda, let me do…oh my god!” was all the young teen could exclaim as Amanda’s tongue quickly replaced the tissue and slipped softly up and down between Kimmie’s wrinkled inner labia. Kimmie couldn’t help herself from grasping the back of Amanda’s head and thrusting herself more urgently against the young girl’s face. Amanda spread Kimmie’s lips wider and twirled her tongue in her own magical way in circles and figure eights, pausing momentarily a few times to concentrate on pointing the tip into the teen’s pee hole which her mom and Kayla had taught her sometimes drove many girls wild. Eventually, as Kimmie’s moans increased, she worked her way up to the teen’s clit which had hardened noticeably, wrapping her lips around it and flicking her tongue back and forth across the shiny protruding button. Recognizing how close Kimmie was to her climax, Amanda then reached behind her and spread her firm ass cheeks, the forefinger from her right hand finding the teen’s rosebud and slipping slowly and carefully inside the warm, smooth hole. This was all it took for Kimmie to finally explode as her orgasm overpowered her and she mewed loudly, squirming almost out of control against Amanda’s face, her juices flowing freely into the young girl’s open mouth.

Eventually she went rigid as the pulses in her young body started to subside and she froze against Amanda’s face, enjoying the new sensations caused by the young girl’s finger now planted deeply inside her clenching asshole. Amanda just held her new friend tightly to allow her to regain her self-control, feeling so proud of herself for giving Kimmie what was probably the strongest orgasm the teen had ever experienced. And that was shortly confirmed when her new friend slowly pulled herself away from Amanda and looked down at her with a glazed smile on her pretty face.

“Oh, Amanda,” she whispered, “I’ve never, ever felt anything like that before. It was the most wonderful feeling in the world.” And she cradled the young girl’s head against her upper thighs, softly stroking her long, now matted hair. Amanda pulled herself away and stood up in front of Kimmie, kissing her lips gently, letting the teen taste her own juices as she softly opened her mouth and slipped her tongue inside. They remained that way twirling their tongues together for a few minutes until suddenly the washroom door opened and somebody else entered a cubicle a little further down from them. Soon the sound of a fart, followed by the familiar hiss of pee, filled the air. Trying to refrain from giggling Amanda helped Kimmie on with her shorts and flushed the toilet, both girls hurrying to the sinks to quickly wash up and leave before whoever it was had finished. But they weren’t fast enough.

“You two look like you’ve been up to no good,” laughed the younger of the two nurses as she opened her cubicle door and stepped out, still buttoning up her uniform.

Oh, I don’t know about that,” giggled Amanda, relieved that it wasn’t the older nurse. “Kimmie thought it was really good, didn’t you, lover?” she quipped, as the teen once again blushed deeply.

“Well, just make sure you don’t get caught. You could get into a lot of trouble,” the nurse cautioned, as she washed her hands. “But it’s still sweet to see two such young girls who obviously know a lot about how to enjoy each other,” she winked, reaching for a paper towel.

Kimmie tugged on Amanda’s arm. “Come on,” she urged. “We’d better get back to the room before my mother sends out a search party. Then we’ll really be in a lot of trouble.”

Saying good-bye to the nurse, the girls quickly turned and left the washroom, heading hand in hand toward the elevator.

Continue on to Chapter 6

By Jeneee

Kayla put the phone back onto its cradle and looked over at her daughter who was laying sprawled out on the bed, legs widely spread with her right heel resting against the cheek of her ass, left hand casually caressing her still slightly swollen pussy, eyes peering curiously at her mother wanting to know who it was that had called.

“That…” Kayla announced with a flourish, “…was Sylvia. And she’s invited herself to dinner so I guess I’d better start to get something ready. Maybe I’ll warm up some of those chicken breasts we had left over from last night and make some pasta and a salad to go with it. Sound good to you?” Amanda stretched and yawned, nodding her head.

“And I’ve got dessert here for her,” she smiled, spreading her pussy open to reveal its still gleaming, wet and pink interior. “Or maybe she’ll want me for the main course instead,” she added with a giggle. “I think I taste even better than chicken, don’t you Mommy?” she teased.

“Don’t you ever get enough,” Kayla asked, scowling playfully at her daughter and slapping her upper thigh.

“Nope, I’m always ready for more,” Amanda replied, winking at her mom. “Know what I mean?” she added, lifting her cute butt off the bed and with both of her heels firmly planted on the mattress she brazenly raised her hips and pointed her puffy, swollen mound in Kayla’s direction. “Want to sample dessert before you go make dinner?” she giggled. “C’mon Mommy, you know how much you love to lick my yummy little cunt,” she urged, sliding a finger deep inside herself and stirring it around, making all sorts of delicious sounding squelchy noises.

Firmly resisting the obvious temptation, Kayla quickly stood up and backed away from her daughter, shaking her head as she finally turned and left the bedroom grinning to herself, swaying her sexy ass at Amanda as she disappeared through the door. “What kind of a slutty sex maniac have I raised?” she called playfully over her shoulder as she headed down the hallway toward the kitchen.

“Only one just like you, Mommy,” Amanda yelled after her. “You taught me well, and now I just want to keep doing everything I’ve learned from you.” And she then lay back down on the bed again, playing a little more vigorously with herself as she thought about their new friend – ‘Glorious Gloria’ she had decided to nicknamed her – who was going to fix the thong they had purchased that day so that it would fit her properly. “Mmm,” she thought to herself. “I’m so gonna love the feeling of that string between my cheeks. I sure hope she can get it tight enough.” And she lifted her butt off the bed again and ran a finger slowly back and forth along the crack of her ass, pausing several times to slip the first joint into her tight, hot little hole and wiggle it around some more, enjoying the sensations she created that resulted in even more of her creamy juices leaking from her still aroused pussy. Dreaming once again of Glorious Gloria’s ass in the tight, black pants of her waitress outfit Amanda once again imagined to herself what it would be like to spread those curvy, plump cheeks and finger and even lick her asshole. She moaned a little and with her eyes tightly closed the image soon became so real that she could almost taste it, and it wasn’t long before another powerful orgasm rocketed its way through her young body. Finally exhausted, she curled up on the bed, hugging her knees tightly to her chest and slowly tried to recover her breath.

Then once again the telephone rang, jarring Amanda out of her post-orgasmic bliss. Hearing a screech from the kitchen she jumped up and quickly ran from the bedroom, thinking her mother must have hurt herself. Reaching the kitchen she saw her mom, still naked, sitting on a stool by the counter, phone pressed to her ear, a worried look on her face. “Is she hurt bad?” her mother asked into the phone, waving for Amanda to come over to her. “Oh my god…yeah…we’ll come, right away, yeah, of course.” Amanda climbed onto her lap and Kayla hugged her daughter tightly to her, still listening to whoever was calling. “We’ll be there as soon as we can; thanks for letting us know. Bye.” And she shakily hung up the phone, now squeezing Amanda close to her breast with both arms tightly around her.

Knowing immediately that something was wrong Amanda looked up at her mother waiting for her to speak. “It’s Sylvia, sweetie. That was a nurse calling from the hospital. She’s been hurt in an accident as she was driving over here. The nurse didn’t know how badly she was hurt; only that Sylvia had asked her to call us and tell us where she was because she knew how worried we would have been when she didn’t arrive for dinner. The doctors are still examining her. We’d better leave right away, honey. Quick, go put some clothes on.” She lifted Amanda from her lap and scurried around turning off the stove and shovelling the half-cooked food into plastic containers, putting everything back into the fridge as Amanda stared at her numbly, trying to absorb what her mother had just told her.

Suddenly snapping out of it she ran to her room and grabbed the first things she could find, pulling a white tee shirt over her head and buttoning up the waist of a blue skirt hanging in her closet, then slipping a pair of socks and running shoes onto her feet. Running back into the hallway she almost bumped into her mother who was coming out from her bedroom also in the process of buttoning up a short, black skirt after throwing on a yellow blouse that she had tied loosely around her midriff. She’d slid her feet into a pair of white sandals leaving, them otherwise bare.

“Mommy, is she gonna be okay?” Amanda almost whispered, not sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

“I don’t know sweetie. The nurse couldn’t tell me much. We’ll find out more when we get there. Now let’s go” And she grabbed her purse and the car keys from the hall table and the two of them rushed into the garage, climbing quickly back into the minivan once more. Neither said much as they drove to the hospital, each of them lost in their own private thoughts, hoping against hope that Sylvia wasn’t hurt all that badly. Even though the hospital was only a ten minute drive from their home it seemed to take an eternity to get there, and then even longer to find a place to park and make their way to the reception desk in the emergency section where the nurse had called from. They were then informed that Sylvia had been transferred to a ward and it took another five minutes or so for them to find the room she had been moved to.

The door to room 214 was open and when they cautiously and quietly peeked inside they saw Sylvia sitting up in bed, awake, and smiling at them as she recognized her visitors. Breathing huge sighs of relief they both rushed to the side of her bed, reaching out for her hands and grasping them tightly. “Oh my god we were so scared when we heard,” Kayla said to her girlfriend. “What happened? You don’t look hurt too bad. Why are you in here, in bed like this?”

“Yeah,” Amanda added, trying to climb up onto the bed beside Sylvia. “Where does it hurt, and am I allowed to hug you?”

“Sorry, miss. You can’t get on the bed,” came the sound of another voice from behind them, and turning around they saw what first appeared to be another nurse entering the room, heading toward Sylvia’s bed, a stethoscope dangling around her neck. Except they soon found out she was a doctor, not a nurse. Sylvia’s doctor.

“This is Dr. Johnson,” Sylvia explained. “They are keeping me here overnight to see if I have any internal injuries. What did the x-rays say, doc?” she asked.

“No broken ribs, but they are badly bruised, so we’ll have to keep you well medicated, Sylvia. And so far there are no signs of any other serious injuries but we’ll have a better idea tomorrow morning when we get the results of all the other tests. If nothing else shows up you can probably go home then, but you will be quite sore for a few days. It seems you were very lucky. And it’s a wonder you didn’t receive a whiplash. I’ll make sure the nurses keep an eye on you throughout the night and I’ll look in on you again in the morning.”

After smiling at Kayla and Amanda and waggling her finger at the little girl, reminding her to stay off the bed, the doctor left the room, leaving them all alone with Sylvia, the other three beds in the ward being surprisingly empty. “So tell us what happened,” Kayla said, grabbing a chair and pulling it up beside the bed, reaching for Sylvia’s hand again.

“Yeah,” echoed Amanda. “We were so scared something bad had happened to you,” she added, hoisting her butt up onto the foot of the bed despite what the doctor had told her.

“Amanda,” her mother scolded.

“It’s more comfortable here, Mom. Besides, it’s not hurting anyone,” her daughter replied, pulling a knee up to her chest and wrapping her arms around it as she looked back at Sylvia, awaiting her story. Sylvia in turn stared back at Amanda, a smile forming on her face.

“I see someone left home in a hurry,” she giggled, her eyes now fixed on Amanda’s lower body.

“Wha…?” the little girl frowned, and then smiled broadly as she peered down to look under her skirt. “Well, I dressed quickly,” she laughed, “’cause we wanted to leave in a hurry. Guess I forgot my panties.” And she spread a little wider so that Sylvia could get a clearer view. “Some tasty medicine for you, Sylvia – my cunt will make you feel better a lot faster. Oh, and guess what?” she added. “Mommy bought me a thong today at the mall and we met this yummy lady, Gloria, who’s going to come ’round next weekend to help make it fit me ’cause it’s a little baggy on me right now. You gotta come meet her, doesn’t she Mommy? You’ll be better by then, I’m sure. And try to bring Kimmie with you too ’cause we want to meet her,” she added with a sly wink.

“Amanda, please! You do go on, my dear,” Kayla exclaimed. “Let Sylvia get a word in edgewise here, would you? I want to hear what happened with her accident, as I’m sure you do. We can tell her all about Gloria later.”

At that moment, however, the door opened once more and another woman cautiously peered in at them, a broad smile lighting up her face when she saw Sylvia sitting up in bed, awake. “Oh, sis, we were so scared when we got the call from the hospital,” and she ran into the room squeezing past Kayla and throwing her arms around Sylvia’s neck, kissing her on the cheek. Following her a little more slowly was a very pretty young girl who Amanda immediately recognised from the photographs she’d seen as Sylvia’s niece, Kimmie.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Jeneee

“So, what do you think, Mommy?” Amanda asked her mom as they left the restaurant. “Do you think she’s like us?”

Kayla smiled at her daughter. “Well, we’ll know in a week, won’t we dear?” And she reached for Amanda’s hand as they walked together through the parking lot toward their car. It had become a lot warmer since they had arrived at the mall earlier in the day and Kayla was happy they had dressed so lightly, especially now that it had attracted the attention of Gloria who she had to admit, she found quite attractive.

“I’m sure she must have seen me squeezing your ass while we were looking in the window, and I know she was looking at my reflection,” Amanda giggled at her mom. “I love when we go out like this together, Mommy. It gets me all tingly to know other people are looking at us, but I think she wants to do more than look, don’t you?” she asked Kayla hopefully, hugging her mother as they reached their car. “And she looked so sexy in those tight pants she was wearing. She has a nice ass too, just like you. I really like her Mommy, and I bet Sylvia will too,” she babbled on breathlessly.

“Sylvia?” Kayla replied. “She likes any cutie in a skirt,” she laughed.

“Or pants, or tight shorts,” Amanda giggled, “or especially naked. And I hope we get to meet her niece soon, too,” she added. “She seems so hot.”

Sylvia was Kayla’s long time girlfriend. They’d known each other since they were teens when they first discovered they were lesbians. Many a hot sleepover dotted their past and now Amanda had come to love her mother’s best friend as if she were an auntie. The feeling was mutual, of course, except that Sylvia still hadn’t quite come to terms with Kayla and her young daughter’s ‘public trawling,’ as she liked to call it. She was afraid they would attract the wrong kind of people, but she’d also realized that they were both exhibitionists and this did excite her when the three of them were out in public together. Sometimes Amanda would tease her terribly when they were out – for instance by wearing a short, plaited skirt and conveniently ‘forgetting’ her panties at home, daring to flash her sweet pussy or butt at Sylvia whenever the opportunity presented itself. And cheeky little Amanda made sure it presented itself often, usually leading to some rather hot sessions when they all got back home.

Sylvia’s sister was married and had a thirteen year old daughter whom Sylvia kept promising to introduce to Kayla and Amanda, but so far hadn’t had the opportunity. Now that her niece had reached her teens Sylvia was beginning to think her sister was becoming a bit overly protective of her daughter, Kimmie, and concerned that her sister might be tempted to ‘educate’ her in the ways of lesbian life. Even though her family had accepted Sylvia’s life-style, and had even met Kayla once or twice, they still weren’t overly happy about her choice of girlfriends, especially one with a young ten year old daughter who, in their opinion, was quite precocious for her age.

So far, they had been quite careful to make sure Kimmie and Amanda had never met each other – something that Amanda was hoping to see change soon, especially after hearing Sylvia’s description of her budding niece and then seeing the pictures Sylvia had taken of her in her bikini on their family vacation the previous summer when Kimmie was twelve. The bright yellow bikini was so tiny it barely covered her, her pointy, young nipples plainly visible under the flimsy top, and in one shot Sylvia had coaxed her young niece to pull the strings of the bikini bottom up so that it clung so tightly to her pussy that her lips almost peeked out on either side of the material. Of course, they’d made sure her parents didn’t get to see those particular pictures. All their suspicions about Sylvia would have surely been confirmed in their eyes.

Reaching their car, a silver minivan, Kayla unlocked the doors and they both climbed into the front, Amanda immediately squirming around a little in her seat as she tried to get comfortable on the hot, leather. Her mother laughed. “Shorts too tight, sweetheart?”

Amanda made a face at her mom and stuck out her tongue. “Yeah, they’re squishing my cunt Mommy – I can’t wait to get home and take them off.” And she tugged at the low waist and pulled them up and down to try to relieve the pressure against her delicate pussy which she now always referred to as her ‘cunt’ after hearing her mother and Sylvia frequently use the word in their hot lovemaking sessions which Amanda had initially overheard with her ear pressed tightly against their bedroom door, but had eventually eagerly joined in on during the past few months after begging her mom to let her. Initially Sylvia had been a little wary of Amanda’s participation but after discovering how skilful the young girl was in the art of lovemaking – something she soon realised her mother had had a lot to do with developing – and how eager she was to please not only her, but also her mother, she now looked forward to having Amanda together in bed with them.

“So why don’t you take them off now, honey, if it’s making you that uncomfortable? Nobody can see you in here anyway,” Kayla suggested, winking slyly at her daughter as the young girl continued to try to adjust her shorts.

“Actually, mmm…” Amanda replied. “It feels kinda nice if I…”

And as her mother looked over at her she could see Amanda had managed to pull her tiny, yellow shorts and panties up tighter between her legs so that her plump labia were now clearly on display on either side of her clothing which was now tightly wedged between her slightly swollen pussy lips. Kayla could feel herself beginning to moisten in her own shorts as she slowly pulled the minivan out of their parking spot and began to make their way toward the highway. As she glanced over at her daughter again, Amanda giggled and ran the tip of a finger over one of her puffy lips. “Like them Mommy?” she teased, spreading her thighs as wide as the front seat permitted. “Want a taste?” she offered, a big grin on her pretty face. And she suddenly leaned over and wiped a forefinger across her mother’s lips, but quickly pulled it away when Kayla opened her mouth to try to suck it in.

“You little devil,” her mother laughed. “Just you wait until I get you home, you slutty little daughter of mine.”

“Oooh! Gonna spank me, Mommy?” Amanda asked with a slight smirk on her face, now protectively cupping both of her hands over her pussy.

“You’d like that sweetheart, wouldn’t you?” Kayla teased, remembering the first time she’d held her little girl bare-assed over her lap with her panties down at her ankles after she’d acted up for some reason both of them soon forgot about, playfully swatting her plump cheeks until they turned a bright red, after which she’d lovingly kissed them, gently spreading the firm, well developed globes to reveal the tight, pink ring of her anus. That was the day they had both discovered how much Amanda enjoyed the attention her mother began to give to her cute little asshole – another first in their on-going exploration of each others’ erotic nature. Kayla’s tongue had then probed and pleasured her little girl’s butt for several minutes as she vigorously fingered her pussy and hard little clit, eventually leading to an explosive orgasm which surprised the both of them in its intensity, leaving Kayla’s lap soaked from the copious juices that poured from Amanda’s young vagina. Several times since that day they had enjoyed even more anal play, experimenting to such an extent that Kayla was now able to open Amanda’s asshole wide enough to accept two of her fingers deep inside her rectum, gently exploring the smooth and tender walls of what Amanda laughingly called her ‘little poop chute.’

“You know I would, Mommy. You’re always so nice to my little butt, especially after I show it off like I did today in these shorts,” she giggled. “I bet it was our asses that first attracted Gloria to us and that’s why she followed us, don’t you? Maybe she’s into ass play too, d’ya think?” she added. “I hope she is ’cause it looked like she has a real sexy ass in those tight pants of hers, and I’d just love to get to play with it.”

“You really have a thing about butts, Amanda. And you just love it when I fuck your tight little asshole, don’t you my dear?” Kayla teased, once again taking her eyes off the road for a second to look over at her precocious daughter.

“Mmm, especially when you have a finger in my cunt at the same time. It makes me feel so hot, Mommy,” Amanda replied, eyes now closed as she blatantly continued to caress her pussy with both hands. Kayla’s shorts were now definitely becoming wet but she forced herself to concentrate on her driving so they would get home quickly and in one piece. It wasn’t long, however, before Amanda let out a screech, followed by a long moan of satisfaction as she reached a climax from the manipulations of her well-trained fingers which she’d managed to slip underneath her tight shorts and panties. After recovering from her orgasm she once again leaned over and wiped one of her fingers across her mother’s lips, this time allowing Kayla to suck it into her mouth to enjoy the creamy juices of her little girl’s satiated, for now anyway, pussy.

“Delicious, as usual,” Kayla remarked, licking her lips as Amanda slowly pulled her finger away.

Ten minutes later they pulled into the driveway of their two story house and, using the remote, Kayla opened the automatic garage doors and parked the minivan. Amanda slid out of her seat and tugged at her shorts once more, pulling them free and relieving the pressure from between her legs, at the same time realizing that part of that pressure was due to the fact that she had to pee really badly.

“I think you’d better go take them off, sweetie,” Kayla advised, noticing how wet her daughter’s shorts had become from playing with her horny little pussy in the front seat. “And then you can join me in the shower if you like,” she added with a wink. “I have to get cleaned up, and if you want to help…” She left her suggestion unfinished and walked in through the side door from the garage into their kitchen, her shorts, Amanda couldn’t help noticing with a grin, firmly and deeply wedged between the cheeks of her beautiful bubble butt.

Amanda was only too happy to comply with her mother’s invitation, thinking slyly to herself that she’d try to hold her pee until after she jumped into the shower with her mom, something else the two of them had often playfully engaged in after her mom had surprised her one day in the shower by suddenly letting go with a torrent of golden piss as she shampooed her daughter’s long, dark hair. Amanda had watched in fascination as her mom’s pee squirted all over her, flowing down her tummy along with the shower water. After that first incident it became quite common for one or both of them to piss while they were showering, something most people did when they showered anyway, her mom had told her. Amanda had since become quite adept at spreading her lips and aiming her pee as she giggled, asking her mom where she wanted it each time. Sometimes, when they both had to pee at the same time, they would hug together in the shower and squeeze each others’ butts as they released their golden nectar. It was a thrill for Amanda to feel her piss merging with her mom’s and flowing warmly down her legs.

“Bend over Mom, and crouch down a bit and spread your ass open,” the young girl commanded her mother with a sly grin as she stepped into the shower.

“Wha…?” Kayla asked, looking around and seeing her little girl standing behind her, both hands pulling apart her puffy pussy. Laughing now that she realized what Amanda was about to do, she complied, and spread her cheeks so that her asshole opened slightly for her daughter. Seeing her target winking at her, Amanda let loose, releasing from her bladder a strong stream of piss, some of which actually splashed into her mother’s butt hole as if it were an enema before flowing out again over her fleshy labia and down her thighs into the tub. When her pee flow stopped Amanda quickly grabbed the soap container and squirted some creamy suds over Kayla’s backside, rubbing the scented mixture between her cheeks and dipping her finger into her mother’s still partially open asshole. She marvelled at how easily it slipped in and how deeply she was able to penetrate, first one finger and then two more. Kayla thrust her butt up as Amanda continued to slide her fingers in and out.

“Your turn to get ass fucked Mommy,” Amanda teased. “I know how much you like it too, remember?”

What started out as a shower soon ended up with mother and daughter quickly rinsing and towelling off, and heading for the bedroom to engage in a sensual and exhausting love making session that left both of them completely drained. As they lay together relaxing in the aftermath of their afternoon frolic they were roused by the ringing of the telephone on the table beside their bed.

Silvia was on her way over.

Continue on to Chapter 4

By Jeneee

Being a waitress sure has its moments. Couples eating out together sometimes fascinate me, no matter their age. And I don’t believe I mentioned my age yet so just so as you know, I’m twenty-two, a high school graduate and hoping to save enough money to eventually go to college to study photography – maybe even open my own studio once I get some experience. A lofty goal, I know but it has been a dream of mine for several years. I’ve always loved taking pictures, especially portraits, and I enjoy looking at the works of other photographers, marvelling at the poses and expressions they seem to be able to coax from their subjects.

But my life changed drastically when, a few months after I’d finished high school, my mom came home from a visit to her doctor and informed me that she had cancer – and that it was terminal. She had maybe a year to live. I was in shock. Deep shock. We hugged each other and cried together for a long time until we both eventually ran out of tears. My college plans were put on hold indefinitely.

Mom and I had always been close, especially after dad left us when I was in my early teens. She’d helped me to deal with the realization that I was a lesbian, and had supported me all the way. Mom even confided to me that she was bisexual, and although she didn’t really come out altogether, it was one of the contributing factors to dad leaving us. That and learning that his daughter was a lesbian, for which he also blamed my mom for not bringing me up right. We could never figure out what he meant by that. Men! He at least had the decency to come to mom’s funeral, and I still see him occasionally, but he’s never accepted me for what I am, and never wanted to meet any of my girlfriends – even though I’ve only had two or three since I was in my teens.

Anyway, my mom was able to hang on for two more years with me putting my life on hold to look after her at home. Even though I knew what was going to happen I was still devastated when she eventually passed away. It took me quite a while to get my life back in order and I was lucky our house was paid off and we had a bit of money saved, so with that and the life insurance I inherited I was able to get by for a little while.

But I knew it wouldn’t last for long. I had to get some money coming in especially if I eventually planned to go to college. That’s when a girlfriend suggested I take a job as a waitress where she worked. Tips were not bad, she told me, and who knows, she laughed, you might even meet a guy. So now you know she was a girlfriend, but not a ‘girlfriend.’ She had no idea I was a lesbian. I eventually took the job and even though it was tiring it wasn’t all that bad. She was right, tips were good most days, and I was able to make enough money to live on and was also able to put a little away for my college tuition.

As I said a while ago, couples eating out sometimes fascinate me. I’m not all that bad looking – even though I don’t match up to Kayla – and I do get my fair share of looks from diners at the restaurant. From men especially. Our waitress outfits are attractive and close fitting and I enjoy the tightly strained smiles wives or girlfriends send my way when they notice their men giving me the eye – I’ve been told my butt looks great in tight pants. Little do they know that it’s them I’m eyeing back though, and not their boyfriends – at least if I find them attractive, that is. Some of them are so insecure that they often go out of their way to try to regain the attention of their partner, showing a little more cleavage or leg, all of which plays right into my hands. If they only knew I was a lesbian, I’d chuckle to myself.

From my recent encounter with Kayla and Amanda you’ve probably guessed that I also don’t discriminate as far as age is concerned – young girls have appealed to me since I was a teen. I had several babysitting opportunities when I was in high school and frequently found myself with a sweet seven or eight year old princess snuggled in my arms slowly falling asleep on my lap as we watched television together before her bedtime, often after having helped her with her bath. Tickling games were always popular with the younger ones and I often feigned being super ticklish in order for them to explore and discover my most sensitive spots – which of course included my boobs.

Young girls are so curious about the bodies of older girls and when they discovered, usually by accident at first, that my boobs were very ticklish – which of course they really aren’t – they’d do all they could to have me in fits so that they could continue to explore what they would eventually develop themselves. I wasn’t exactly voluptuous as a teen – nor am I now – and since my boobs were rather small I’d usually not bother wearing a bra. I do, however, have prominent nipples which rapidly hardened during these playful sessions and were another source of fascination for some of my younger sweethearts. I remember the time one particular little nine year old girl who had continually groped my breasts – yes, her tickling had progressed to groping once my giggles had died down a bit – shyly asked if she could see them.

“Only if you let me see yours too, sweetie,” was my quick-thinking response. She was a little too old for me to have ever had the need to bathe her so I hadn’t yet had the pleasure of seeing her naked young body which, although small for her age, was quite nubile. Now was my chance.

“But I don’t have any boobies,” she replied. “See?” And she quickly lifted up her loose pyjama top for me to see her almost flat, pale chest. I peered closely at her and ran the tip of my index finger over one of her tiny pink nipples. Together we watched it harden into a cute little point.

“I think it wants to start growing now,” I teased, “don’t you? Want me to help it even more?” I asked, with a sly smile on my face. She giggled and nodded. Bending down I first kissed the tiny tip of her sweet little bud and then swirled my tongue around it as she giggled even louder. Then I sucked harder on it, drawing it out from her chest, softly pinching it with my fingers. Her giggles died down and I heard the start of a moan deep in her throat – the little fox was enjoying it. “Does that feel good, honey?” I asked as I drew away and looked into her deep blue eyes.

“Mmmm,” she murmured, her face a little flushed. “But you said I could see yours too,” she quickly remembered, reaching out to touch one of my boobs through my tee. “Can I?”

“You sure can, honey,” I told her, lifting my shirt up over my firm boobs, nipples now hard and winking at her. She shyly reached up and ran a hand over one, tentatively squeezing it in her tiny palm, then reaching up with her other hand to delicately pinch the nipple of my other breast, drawing it out even further. I lifted her up onto my lap so that she could comfortably continue her exploration while my right hand slipped beneath her pyjama top again to caress her almost flat little chest.

She looked at me with a cute smile on her pretty face. “Do you think mine will grow to look like yours soon?” she asked, “If you keep playing with them like that?” she added hopefully.

I nodded. “I’m sure they will, hon. And they may even grow bigger than mine,” I added.

“Will yours grow bigger yet, too?” she wanted to know.

“Maybe,” I responded. “But my mom’s were small like mine, so I’m not really sure.”

“My mommy’s are big and they bounce all around when I play with them,” she giggled.

“Your mom lets you play with her boobies?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

“Yes, and it’s so much fun to see them jiggle,” she said. “And she even let’s me suck on them, too,” she told me proudly.

She cupped one of mine in her tiny hand and tried to jiggle it around but without success. “Mine are too small to bounce, sweetie,” I explained somewhat ruefully.

“What if I kiss them like you did mine? Would that help make them grow bigger?” she asked shyly. Now I ask you, can you see me refusing an offer like that?

“It might,” I winked at her with a smile. And needing no further encouragement she immediately stuck out her tongue and started to lick the dark brown, wrinkled nipple of my left breast. Then, copying what I’d done to her, she closed her mouth around it and sucked it like a baby. I shut my eyes, moaning softly, telling her how good it felt. Spurred on by my encouragement she sucked even harder and my hand then automatically increased the range of the caresses I was administering to her chest, circling down lower over her soft tummy, squeezing it gently as her mouth and tongue aroused me even further. My hand continued its downward journey and eventually met the waistband of her panties under her pyjama top. Debating whether to slide under the silky material or not I elected to move my hand down over her panties until I was cupping her prominent mound beneath, squeezing it softly, causing her to almost bite my nipple as this new sensation overtook her.

She pulled back from my breast and looked at me, a glazed expression on her face as I ran a finger gently between her lubricating lips through her panties. “What are you doing?” she whispered. “That makes me feel so kinda funny. Like I gotta pee or something.” I kissed her softly on her pretty mouth.

“No, sweetie, you don’t have to pee,” I explained. “That’s just the feeling that big girls get when they play with each other like that.”

“But I’m not a big girl yet,” she stammered, still unsure of what she was beginning to feel.

“Do you want me to stop then?” I asked her.

“N-no. It makes me feel so good, but like funny.” And with that she pushed back harder against my hand as if to assure me that it was okay for me to continue. Not needing any more encouragement than that I once again began to caress her hot little pussy through her silky panties and leaned down to kiss her again, this time not pulling away from her sweet lips, but opening them slightly so that my tongue could begin to explore her mouth even more. She kissed me back even harder and my hand felt her panties becoming damp from my caresses as she started to squirm a little in my lap. Pulling the crotch of her panties aside I now felt the soft wetness of her delicate lips on my fingers for the first time as I slid one gently between them. She was so wet and slippery and I could feel her little button becoming hard. Our kisses became even more intense now as I fingered her sweet pussy, soon managing to slip the tip of my index finger inside her tight vagina up to the first knuckle, feeling the soft silkiness of her now soaking little treasure. At that moment she squealed and stopped kissing me, snuggling her head firmly against my shoulder, her mouth against my neck, urging her pussy harder against my probing hand.

“Ohhh, Gloria!” she cried. “Please, don’t stop, that feels…oh…so good…I…ohh…” She didn’t have to worry – I wasn’t about to stop. Her hot breath came in short, quick bursts against the side of my neck as she alternately whimpered and squealed, squirming urgently against my probing finger, her arms wrapped tightly around me. When her orgasm finally hit her she froze, and except for the slight, uncontrolled spasming of her hips it was as if I were holding onto a statue – a very hot and sweaty statue. I held her lovingly until she started to breathe again. Slowly she released her stranglehold from around my neck and drew back looking in wondrous confusion into my eyes.

“W-what happened to me?” she half whispered. “I never felt anything like that before.”

I brushed back the hair from her eyes and smiled. “You had your first orgasm, sweetie,” I told her.

“My first what?” she asked, her eyes widening in amazement.

“Orgasm,” I repeated. “That’s what big girls have when they play with themselves, or when someone else plays with them like I did with you. Did you like it?”

“It felt like I was going to explode or something,” she told me. “But I didn’t want it to stop. No, I mean, I couldn’t stop. It felt like waves going through me…like…” she trailed off.

I giggled. “That’s a pretty good way to describe it, sweetie,” I said. “It’s hard to put into words how good it feels.”

“Does that mean I’m a big girl now too, then?” she asked. She smiled big when I nodded yes.

And I remember how she looked when I finally put her into bed that evening – such a contented, glowing expression on her sweet face. As I bent down to kiss her goodnight she asked if we could do it again next time I babysat her. I told her yes, and much more too. She was asleep almost immediately. And yes, we did much more the next time. But that’s another story.

Now, five years later, here I was dreaming about what might happen next Sunday, when Amanda and Kayla came to visit. Somehow I sensed it might turn out to be a little more than just a thong fitting session. I sure hoped so.

Continue on to Chapter 3

By Eva

{ This story was originally posted at Lesbian Lolita in December 2007 }

In summer the beach at Drifton Bay was crowded with people. Tourists, people on holiday. Noisy and frantic and unlovely.

For the rest of the year, outside those four months or so, it was empty and that was the way Sonia Miller preferred it. The great expanse of pure, bleached sand all to herself, the ocean rolling its endless waves just for her pleasure. No crowds, no one interrupting her thoughts. Even the distant crash of the rollers and the surf breaking on the shoreline was soothing. Reassuring in its own way, as if the world was always there and always unhurried. It gave her time to herself to think.

And she thought about many things in the quiet contemplation of winter and early spring, wondering not least of all why her work as an artist had become stale. Puzzling over why her work as one of the country’s foremost landscape and seascape artists had seemed to her to be flat and uninspired. She had already postponed a forthcoming major exhibition, citing family stresses as to the reason she couldn’t complete a half-dozen new canvasses.

But it wasn’t the family. Sonia’s son and daughter – and especially her ex-husband – all left her alone. They never visited her house perched on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. Not outside summer at any rate. It wasn’t depressing in itself – Sonia had faced worse – but it was lonely at times and when she had doubts about her work, as she seemed to have often these days, then she wondered what lay ahead. The woman said to the one true friend she had, Christine Morris, that she needed a new direction in her life. Christine wasn’t sure what that would be. But then, neither was Sonia. You need a break, said Christine. Look at things anew after a break.

I’m forty two, argued Sonia. I’ve been painting for twenty three years. It was all those hours painting that cost me my marriage and alienated from my family and friends are hard to find out here on the “coast. It’s my fault, she said bitterly.

No, said Christine: Larry was a fool. The kids are selfish. So-called friends are fickle. You just need a break.

Sonia agreed and gave herself a break. Three months she had been waiting for inspiration and a way to stop her work being repetitive. Her agent Molly didn’t like what Sonia was doing, or agreed it was necessary. But Molly Harper was paid by paintings sold, and sales could never be anything when Sonia’s brushes had virtually dried up. The demand for the woman’s paintings would gradually wane. Some new artist would grab the attention in the vacuum the artist had left. That was inevitable in the world of art, and it worried Molly. She may get famous after she was dead as so many artists had, but Sonia needed to pay bills now. She needed the reassurance her work was selling.

Molly didn’t have an artist on her books as well-known, or as productive, as Sonia so she was getting anxious. The agent called every other day, to see how things were, asking when the woman might start painting again.

Sonia was glad today she was out breathing the clear, fresh sea air, away from the studio. Away from the phone. Molly may call but she wouldn’t be coming in person if she could help it. Only rarely the 58 year old female came out here to the coast: she was a city woman more used to the pace and the bustle of urban life. The emptiness, as she called it, troubled her. But money was money and even this early in the morning no doubt Molly would be trying to call, perhaps no longer asking if Sonia felt better today. Just asking when she might pick up a brush and start her work going.

It still wasn’t going anywhere, Sonia knew. The brushes remained untouched, the tubes of paint unsqueezed. The vision dulled.

Alone on the beach, the woman walked alone by the water’s edge, idly looking for interesting shaped driftwood cast on the shore by last night’s storm. It wasn’t that she needed the wood for her work but her studio was full of it. Gnarled and twisted branches mostly, bleached by sun and salt-water – grotesque shapes that reminded her of vague, dark thoughts. People writhing in agony, she thought sometimes.

Dreamwood, she called her collection. Or Nightwood, when the light caught it at different times of the day and the shapes looked like figures twisting and stretched in some primitive pain. Reaching out and begging for release.

Occasionally Sonia glanced up from the wet, flat sand at the rolling waves, so much calmer than a few hours ago. But storms here on this stretch of coast were like that: they could rise quickly and calm almost as soon as they began. That was why here – unlike twenty miles down the coast – there were no yachts or speedboats. Amateur and inexperienced sailors suspected they should keep away from this bay, these cliffs. Professional sailors knew to keep away.

Among the flotsam and jetsam littering the high waterline there was something unusual, a pale mound of something. Sonia stopped and stared. It was something she hadn’t seen before. Not seaweed, or the usual washed up junk. Not even a twisted branch. This was a body, a child’s body, curled up.

The body of a girl, her face hidden by long black hair. A naked body, her almost white skin dry but blotched where sea salt had dried on her, seaweed clinging to her like she had been created by the gods of the deep.

The woman bent over the pathetic looking bundle of flesh, feeling both a pang of anguish that she should find the body of someone who had drowned and a certain intrigue as to this strangest of finds. Though she painted landscapes and seascapes she was familiar with life and death in nature. Plants and animals grew and died here where land and sea met. Sonia’s her best work tried to capture those moments of hope and change, but she had never seen death like this close up. Not a dead human.

But the body wasn’t cold to the woman’s tentative touch. The child had warmth, and stirred faintly under her fingers. A faint moan escaped the girl. Sonia cast round, to see if there was help even though she didn’t expect to see anyone else on this lonely beach. She was, as always, completely alone.

Sonia knew that naked the girl would die without warmth and protection. Without a second’s thought, Sonia decided that she should take the child to her home. Years of carrying driftwood up from the beach had kept her in condition and the woman hoisted the child up in her arms and hurried across the sand and to the stairs.

Once she got the girl in her house Sonia carried her to the guest bedroom to lay the girl on the bed, but she didn’t cover her up. For a few minutes she stood staring down, taking in the sight of the girl. For the first time the artist was absorbing the look of the girl. She was about twelve, with small, high mounds for breasts and, all too obviously, no hair at her sex: just a little pink slit showing where her legs were apart. She even, when the hair was brushed from her face, looked attractive with a nice shaped nose and full lips. A little makeup, her hair combed through and she would look beautiful enough to kiss and hold…

Heart pounding, Sonia jumped up with shock at her unbidden thoughts. Why would she think this? She wasn’t gay – she wasn’t anything. She was a painter, about to be a failed painter. She had never (unlike several of her contemporaries in London) been to bed with another female. There was no political agenda in her, no feminist cause, no ambitions to turn over the norms of society. She had no wish to challenge anything.

But this girl was beautiful and Sonia’s staid and self-doubting world shattered as she looked at her and a pulse grew in her deepest, hottest place.

—

Sonia called the girl Driftwood, almost from the start. She called her that in her mind as she carried the naked girl up from the beach. She knew, in some instinctive way, that the black-haired, beautiful child would be a stranger. A foreign girl, unable to speak English. She didn’t try to talk to her when she fed her, never attempted to explain anything. Not even her name. The girl for her part seemed content to be naked, happy to lie on the bed. Sometimes she would stand on the bed and stare out of the angled roof window for hours at the sea and the sky, sometimes watching the rain fall and the rivulets run down the glass, lost in thoughts. But she never tried to leave even this room, never seemed to be in any hurry to do anything. She ate in her room, politely and silently as Sonia watched, and always finished everything put in front of her. She was pale, but her colour improved over those important first few days.

At night Sonia locked the door to the guest room. Not because she wanted to keep the girl a prisoner, but because she didn’t want to lose her. As far as Sonia knew, the girl never tried the door. She was happy to just be there. Sonia would go into the room and look at the girl as she slept, and when the girl woke sometimes the artist would talk to her, though the naked girl never responded with a word, though sometimes she smiled as if she recognised a word or sound. It was cathartic for Sonia, being able to unburden herself: she talked about her divorce, the disappointment she felt in her children, the pressures of having to keep on painting when she felt burnt out. the loneliness of her life, and the girl never spoke back and listened as if in awe.

Twice a day Sonia took Driftwood to the bathroom and bathed her, always with while she used the toilet (which the girl did without embarrassment) and then lay soaking in the bath. Sonia would wash the girl’s long black hair, wash her back and front and especially between the child’s legs, carefully soaping and washing and rubbing gently. Driftwood would lie back with her eyes closed, a purr in her throat. Sonia also spent time gently feeling the girl’s small breasts and tenderly washing them clean. Repeatedly washing them, as if fascinated by their shape and youth. The girl, for her part, made no effort to stop her and even (and this pulsed more in Sonia’s sex) seemed to be eagerly pushing her chest forward for the touch of Sonia’s fingers, spread her legs wide for the caress of the bath sponge and Sonia’s long, strong fingers.

Sonia knew she may never, unless she taught the girl her language, be able to find out her name and where she was from. Never know what sequence of events would have brought the child to the brink of death and rescue, what fates deposited her on this lonely beach. Sonia scoured the news in the days following the discovery, as the child recovered in the guest room. She was looking for a story about slave-trading and illegal smuggling of foreigners into the country, looking for anything about a shipwreck off the coast of Drifton Bay or news of an air-sea search.

There was nothing, and Sonia – despite being troubled by guilt at hiding an illegal immigrant – called no one. She didn’t tell her agent when Molly called, either. Driftwood was to be her secret, and to preserve their secret world Sonia unplugged the telephone.

The girl was a gift for Sonia from the sea. Driftwood had been washed ashore for herself, and Sonia was not in any hurry to share her good fortune. At night, when she tucked the pre-teen into the bed with clean sheets, she would stroke the girl’s hair and run her hands over the child’s face, and then down under the sheets to feel those perfect little breasts, and then daring herself, reach down further to the girl’s flat little belly and down between the preteen’s open legs and caress the slit. Driftwood never complained, never brought her hand up to push Sonia away. But on the fourth night, the girl moved her hand to hold Sonia’s hand against her immature sex, and looked up into her eyes.

That was when they kissed for the first time, as naturally and as easily as two long-term lovers might. That was the night when Sonia stood and took off her clothes (for the first time before Driftwood) in front of the girl and let the child see in the fleeting moonlight through the high window, the swell of Sonia’s own body, see the shape of the 42 year old woman’s breasts and the weight she wanted the girl to feel.

They did not sleep much that night, and though a storm sprang up and rain and wind rattled the window above them, they made love as if it was what they should have done all along. What they had always done, with the girl happy to kiss the lips of Sonia’s sex, put her tongue into the sweet-tasting, juice-laden folds, suck and nibble Sonia’s long nipples, and finally as an act of total giving, the girl slid between Sonia’s own open legs and without going to the woman’s cunt, put her young strong tongue into Sonia’s back passage and reamed her with devotion. Love, almost.

They breakfasted the next morning naked, looking at the sea through the large window by the dining table, their chairs close together so they could touch and kiss and feel each other the way they had all night. They spent the day naked, alone to the world, laughing without speaking. Sonia wondered if the girl was dumb, but apart from a moan when fingered or sucked or licked, apart from a purr in the girl’s throat when held and handled, Driftwood made no sound apart from her young, light laughing. She concluded Driftwood was not dumb and could speak if she wanted, so what then she mused might be the first word she would teach her?

Whatever it might be, it could wait, until Sonia needed to talk. And she had no need at the moment: the sea and the sky and the soft moans of pleasure from the lips of this beautiful child were enough.

Sometimes, as Driftwood stood at the window, watching the sea and sky, Sonia would lie on the bed so the child stood over her, legs apart. Sonia would reach up, left hand at the child’s slit, working her fingers into the girl while her right hand stroked the perfect shape of Driftwood’s bottom cheeks, toying and lingering in the smooth valley, pushing against the tight little anal muscle until it relaxed and let her fingertip in. And the girl would sigh quietly and watch the world outside dreamily as she was fingered and explored and brought to pleasure’s peak. Like a wave breaking on the shoreline.

But the change in Sonia was in her work too. Rejuvenated, Sonia picked up her brushes and colours again, for when Driftwood saw the paintings the woman had done and unbidden, lay down among the agonised, twisted bleached wood, draping herself open. Standing naked herself in front of her easel, Sonia felt free and open. She worked with renewed enthusiasm, the girl happily lying back as if born to be a model. Unmoving and relaxed, Driftwood allowed Sonia to paint her portrait – a full length portrait of the girl naked and legs apart with one hand over her slit as if about to play with herself, her nipples hard and swollen with anticipation of sex. Eyes wide and on the viewer, at once inviting someone to draw close and showing herself. Showing her young perfection.

It was when the portrait was finished, three days later (three long days interrupted by making love on the studio floor, or in the bath, or across the dining table in view of the sea and sky) Sonia said to Driftwood something she had thought was foreign to her. Three words in fact: “I love you.”

Driftwood smiled and said nothing back. In the absence of words, they brought each other to a shattering orgasm with their tongues deep in each other’s slits, the older woman tasting the child’s wetness, the twelve year old lapping up Sonia’s torrent of cum.

—

Sonia would have painted like a demon possessed from then on, but lovemaking got in the way, as did Christine. Five years younger than her friend Sonia – a woman who once had tried to paint herself but given up for the lure of men – she arrived on Driftwood’s eleventh day, someone from the outside who Sonia had all but forgotten.

The woman stood at Sonia’s door and blinked at Sonia, who had dragged an old dressing gown around her when she had gone to answer the knock. “Are you okay? You’re not ill? We were so worried… the phone wasn’t working. And you won’t have a computer so we couldn’t email you. Sometimes you’re so selfish, Sonia – you never think about anyone but yourself. Oh it’s so good to see you well.” The words of relief and accusation tumbled out from Christine. Then, she said, seeing the flush in her friend’s face: “Are you alone?”

“No,” said Sonia. “Not any more.”

Sonia would have sent anyone else away, but she let Christine in, escorted into the house and showed her Driftwood, naked among the driftwood in the studio, a half-finished painting on the easel. A painting of a naked girl rubbing a piece of bleached, smooth but gnarled wood against her hairless crotch. Masturbating with nature’s cast-offs.

“This,” said Sonia with pride in her voice, “is my lover and my inspiration. Her name’s Driftwood. I found her on the beach, washed up for me, and I just want to be with her.”

Christine stared and gulped at the sight, and the way Sonia dropped her dressing gown to reveal her nakedness. For the wont of something to say, she whispered: “But… you’re painting again.”

Sonia laughed. “With a passion,” she said, and resumed her work.

—

The three of them were in bed, finished with climbing on top of each other, with licking and sucking and pleasuring each other. Fingers and tongues inside and around and wet, soft sexes pressed to each other. Christine was exhilarated: she had never experienced a woman’s caress before and though she was clumsy and hurried, Sonia was patient as her friend discovered the joys of oral sex, the way a woman could put her fingers in you and make you cum. Driftwood was patient too, yelping just a little when Christine carelessly bit the folds of her labia too hard, and allowed Christine to do anything she wanted – which soon enough was everything.

“I had no idea,” said Sonia’s friend as they shared breakfast the next morning, leaving Driftwood asleep on the bed, as if exhausted by all she had to do into the small hours. Sonia was naked of course, but Christine had put on her underwear – still not at ease with showing off her body even though both her friend and the girl in bed had got to know every inch, every hole. “I had no idea what it was like to… you know.”

“I know,” said Sonia, “and I didn’t know until she arrived.”

“It seems like a dream,” said Christine, staring out to the sea. “Who is she? You must have some idea.”

“No idea,” said Sonia. “And in a way I don’t want to. If I knew I would feel different. I mean, she’s twelve. Possibly thirteen, but in any event she’s under age. You see, if I don’t know about her I can’t feel guilty. If I don’t know her name, about her, she only exists for me. She might have family somewhere, someone who loves her as much as I do. Or there are people who own her. Perhaps she was a slave of some kind, an illegal immigrant destined for some brothel. Any knowledge of her might make me look deeper, start asking questions I don’t want to know the answers to. I might try to do something and it would all fall apart without me meaning it to.”

“Like how?”

“I have no idea… I just want this to be perfect. As it is.”

Christine could see the studio from where they sat, the unfinished painting of Driftwood masturbating, already a deep-seated pleasure on her pretty face. “Your paintings – you’ve done four now, well will have when that one’s done. I can imagine a collection of your work at a gallery, people wanting to buy your work again.”

“But then people would know,” said Sonia with a sigh. “Driftwood would be public knowledge. She would be seen and people would connect her with me and my home.”

“No criminal gang is going to go into a gallery and start to think–”

“But I’d know.” Sonia looked grim. “I’d feel bad about her being seen and people knowing it was me who had used Driftwood as a model. They might want to come here and then they might see her. Someone might wonder how I got a model like her, then they’d take her away from me.”

Christine thought for a minute. “There is another way.”

“For what? Another way to lose Driftwood?”

“No, to make money from your paintings, to stay alone with her. When I painted, I used to do nudes. I could pretend I’d done them, and when they sold – as they will – I’d give you the money.”

“But it isn’t your style.”

Christine smiled. “Fifteen years away from painting has given me time to develop a new style, right? I sign these paintings, have them shown… if anyone asks about the model I say it’s a woman I know. But the thing is, Driftwood isn’t at my home: if anyone wanted to go there there’s nothing to hide because there’s no one else at my place.” Sonia’s friend grinned. “It’s a way of getting you money to live on, safe with Driftwood here on the coast.”

Sonia looked at Christine. “And your reward?”

“I get to come here every so often, for a lesbian holiday. Oh, and pick up a few canvasses to take back.”

Sonia nodded. Driftwood emerged from the bedroom, naked as always, her slim child-like hips swaying and the merest tremble in the small mounds that were her breasts, her hairless slit all too obvious and tempting. Her long black hair shining and healthy about her naked, slender shoulders. Driftwood looked every bit the twelve-year old, a girl who wouldn’t grow much more. Skinny and pale but sensuous. Driftwood smiled at the two women she had made love to last night, first bending to kiss Sonia and reach down and caress the woman’s naked breasts and then moving over to Christine to sit on the younger woman’s knee and kiss her too, tugging at Christine’s bra as if to say ‘we don’t allow clothes here.’

The bra came off and Sonia watched her friend and her little lover kiss and cuddle and Christine’s hands slip up into the girl’s sex. She tore her eyes away and stared out at the ocean and the sky, wondering if there were any more out there like Driftwood. But one was enough for them both, and Sonia stood and went round to where the woman and the girl were playing with each other’s cunts and joined in with fingers worming into back passages so the two of them gasped and smiled.

Sonia would look for driftwood later perhaps, but she had Driftwood in her hands now and couldn’t think of anything better.

1

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