Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

By Muffi

We collected up the mountain of luggage and carried it up the stairs to my room. Sara was impressed by my playground-sized bed, and she thought the mirrored walls were “really cool.” I was thanking whatever deity was responsible for the fact that I’d never installed a ceiling mirror. Try explaining that to a nine-year-old girl.

Why do I have a mirror on the ceiling? Oh, I’m just so pretty, I like to fall asleep looking at myself.

“Aunt Meagan, are we gonna go any place today?”

“I don’t know, Sweetie, why?”

“Cos if we’re not,” she said, “then we don’t have to stay dressed. We can put on PJs or sweats or something.”

Yeah, it was going to be a long day and night.

“Well,” I said, “I don’t know. Do you two want to do anything special, or do you want to just hang out and watch movies and do silly girl stuff?”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment.

“Movies and girl stuff!” shrieked Janelle.

“Yeah, movies and girl stuff!” Sara joined in, the two of them jumping up and down.

“Well, you two are easy to please,” I said. “Okay, movies and girl stuff it is.”

Two backpacks were thrown to a corner of the room. From the sound of it, they were both filled with school books. Sara opened her duffel bag, and Janelle was ripping into one of her other backpacks. Little girl clothing started to fly about the room as they rummaged around looking for something suitable to change into. I shook my head. Clean up was going to be fun, trying to sort out who owned what.

Almost before I knew it, I was in the presence of two little nine-year-old girls wearing nothing but panties and socks. They were both sorting through tee-shirts, searching out which they wanted to wear.

Dear God. Be still, my beating heart, I thought.

Fortunately for me, my back was facing the corner of the room where the two mirrored walls come together. I say fortunately because if I’d been looking at the mirrors, I would have been looking at multiple images of them. One of each was enough, thank you. More than that, I couldn’t handle right now.

Janelle was facing away, which gave the fast-growing pervert in me a chance to gaze at her cute little panty-clad ass for a moment. I had to tear my eyes away, or risk being caught drinking in that delicious sight. Jesus, I had descended into utter depravity.

Sara had already pulled a mid-thigh length tee-shirt over her head. I was grateful. The length would keep any flashing of her panties to a minimum. Janelle, on the other hand, had chosen a tee-shirt that fell only to the tops of her thighs, barely covering her pert little ass.

I was doomed. Fucking doomed.

Janelle spun around and stared at me expectantly. “Well? Aren’t you gonna wear something comfy, too, Aunt Meagan?”

Mentally shaking myself, I gave the girls a nervous smile. “Yup, I am,” I mumbled.

I kicked off my sneakers, then shucked out of my jeans and pulled my shirt off. I was acutely aware of the two little girls standing there, watching me change. Being aware of that, it seemed that I just couldn’t help myself. I slowed my movements. Perverted as it was, I wanted to parade around half naked for them.

Exhibitionist that I am, I bent at the waist and dug through my drawer for a few moments, knowing I was giving them a blatant view of my ass. Then I straightened up and turned around, holding a tee-shirt. I raised my arms and let it fall over me, hoping, without daring to look, that the girls had been peeking at my breasts.

In my head I could hear Ellie and Nellie from the living room. We’re watching you…

“Okay, you two,” I said, shaking out my hair. “Why don’t you go down and find a movie you want to watch, and I’ll go make some popcorn. Sound good?”

It must have sounded good, because the two girls disappeared almost in a blink.

I have a fairly extensive collection of DVDs. A good portion of them are kids movies. Having Janelle around a lot gives me a good excuse to have them. Besides, I like Disney movies. Sue me.

When I’d finished the popcorn — which took a few minutes since I make the real kind, done in a pot on the stove and slathered with butter and salt — I returned to the living room to find that we weren’t watching a Disney movie after all. Close enough, though. The girls had put chosen Madagascar. I could live with that. Chris Rock as the annoying Marty the Zebra never fails to make me giggle.

I handed each girl a couple of paper towels and put the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table. They sat on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, while I sat on the couch, one girl on either side of my feet. I passed out cans of ginger ale to the girls, cracked one open for me, and settled in to watch.

There was little discussion through the movie. When it was over, I was left with two little girls whose faces and hands were smeared with melted butter, so I herded them into the kitchen for a wipe down. That accomplished, we returned to the living room, and began the next feature, which natually was Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa.

As the movie was loading, Sara noticed that Janelle’s toenails were painted to match her fingernails. “You got painted toenails, too? That’s cool!”

Janelle proudly held a foot up for display. “I was ‘posed to wear sandals yesterday for my party, but then I talked my Mom into lettin’ me wear that leather outfit, instead of the dress ‘n sandals she wanted me to wear. Aunt Meagan painted ’em for me. Want yours done, too? I bet she’d paint ’em for ya if ya do.”

My services were being volunteered. Goody.

Janelle had turned to face me. “Wouldn’t’cha, Aunt Meagan?”

“If Sara wants me to, sure,” I said. Sara’s grin told me all I needed to know.

I gathered the necessary items together, and sat down cross-legged on the living room floor. Sara sat in front of me, clearly thrilled. I began to repeat the process that I had gone through with Janelle a couple of days ago. Sara seemed to share Janelle’s propensity for having squirmingly ticklish feet. Getting cotton balls inserted between her toes took a few minutes.

Once her toenails were finished, I asked Sara if she’d like me to paint her fingernails as well. She loved the idea.

Welcome to Meagan Bristol’s Nail Salon. I couldn’t remember the last time that I’d done my own nails, prior to preparing for Janelle’s birthday party. Anyhow, I told her that we should let her toes dry completely before painting her fingernails.

As suppertime came closer and closer, I asked Sara what she likes on pizza. Cheese and pepperoni. Of course.

“No mushrooms?” Janelle asked incredulously.

Sara shook her head vigorously. “Mushrooms’re gross!” she proclaimed.

Three small pizzas, then. One with pepperoni and mushrooms, one with pepperoni only, and a third with everything, including the kitchen sink. The girls squinched their faces in disgust when they heard me specify extra anchovies on mine.

Several hours later, I told the girls that it was time to think about getting ready for bed. “You two have school tomorrow,” I reminded them, “so you need to either shower or take a bath. Which do you want?”

They wanted to shower. Then they decided that it was just as easy to take one together. I herded them up the stairs to my room, where they each pulled out clean pairs of panties, then ambled into the bathroom. The two tee-shirts hit the floor along the way, their socks close behind. Finally, two pairs of panties wound up in a small heap next to the bath mat.

I turned on the shower, doing my best to avoid looking at either girl any more than I absolutely had to. My heart was throbbing like a V-8 engine.

Two naked little girls climbed into the shower. I heard some squealing for a moment, then Janelle piped up. “Aren’t you gonna take a shower, too, Aunt Meagan?”

I froze. “Uhmm, it’s okay, Sweetie. I can take mine when you and Sara are finished.”

“But why?” she asked, in perfect innocence. “There’s room for all of us.”

She was right. My shower is roomy.

Watch your step, I heard Ellie and Nellie say from the living room.

Half of me wanted to avoid that shower at all costs. That part, the sensible part, wanted to run into the bedroom and hide until the girls were finished.

That part lost the argument. With shaking hands, I pulled my tee-shirt over my head, then shoved my panties down, stepping out of them. “Okay, coming in,” I said, taking a deep breath as I opened the shower door.

Two drenched little girls were waiting for me, their hair slicked back and streaming water down over their little butts. The water made their little bodies gleam in the fluorescent light of the bathroom. They were both grinning widely at me.

I was glad for the water. It would have been awkward trying to explain the wetness growing between my thighs without the water to camouflage it.

As I began to soap myself, Sara looked at me with a growing curiosity. “How come you don’t have hardly any hair down there?” she asked.

“Uhmm… well, because I shave most of it off,” I said. For some reason, I felt mildly embarrassed.

Janelle was staring at my pussy openly, puzzlement showing plainly on her face. I wondered if she had just never noticed my lack of pubes before, or if she’d been reluctant to ask about it. She must not have noticed. Believe me, there are precious few questions that Janelle would hesitate to ask.

“How come?” Sara asked.

It just feels so much nicer when I touch myself, or when someone else touches me, without the hair there. Yeah, sure. I’ll bet her parents would really appreciate that explanation.

“I just don’t like to have a lot of hair on my body,” I replied. “Hair is for men.”

“My mom has hair down there,” Sara responded.

“Well, I would too, if I didn’t shave it off.”

“Doesn’t it hurt to shave it?” she asked.

“No,” I replied with a smile. “It doesn’t hurt.”

They were both still staring openly at my vulva. Be careful what you wish for, Meagan. You wanted to show your body off for the girls a few minutes ago. Looks like you got your wish. Unsettling, isn’t it?

“Besides,” I said, doing my best to ignore that voice in my head. “I think it’s prettier without all that hair there.”

“But nobody ever sees it,” said Janelle. “Who cares what it looks like?”

“I see it,” I replied. “My girlfriends see it. Besides, you two are seeing it right now, aren’t you?”

“That’s different,” said Janelle. “We’re taking a shower.”

Time to end this conversation. “Okay, cut it out, you guys! I just don’t like all that hair down there, okay?”

Both girls looked at me like I’d lost my mind, and I felt like a complete fool. Suddenly, Janelle handed me the soap. “Do our backs, Aunt Meagan?”

I took the soap with shaking hands. As they turned, I closed my eyes for a moment. Give me strength, please, I begged silently to some god out there. Preferably, one who looks out for gay women.

I grabbed a washcloth from the bar on the inside of the shower door. That’ll work, I told myself. If I use a washcloth, I won’t feel their soft, smooth skin under my fingers.

Calmer now, I lathered up the washcloth and began to scrub Janelle’s back. Yeah, sure. I wasn’t conscious at all of running my hand over the body of a naked little girl. No problem here, no sirree.

As I began to scrub lower, moving onto the swell of her little ass, my eyes were riveted to the swelling globes. So cute, so perfectly formed…

Stop it!

I quickly finished with Janelle’s back, then turned to Sara. I started at her shoulders, and worked my way down. Then I gasped.

At the small of her back, just above her pelvic bone, there was a dark, purplish bruise. It was a rounded rectangular shape. I stared at it for a moment, slowing down my scrubbing, trying to figure out what it looked like. Then it dawned on me.

I closed my hand for a moment and studied it. The bruise was a perfect imprint of a fist. Sara had been punched in the kidney. Hard. The bruise was much bigger than my own closed fist.

Whoever had hit her had big hands. A man’s hands.

I felt anger bubbling up inside of myself. No, that’s a lie. I felt rage starting to boil over.

Somehow I forced myself to stay calm as I continued to wash Sara’s back. When I finished, being careful to avoid what looked like a very painful bruise, I kept my voice neutral. “What happened to your back, Sara?”

“Huh?” She hesitated. “Oh… uh, I fell.”

“Ouch,” I said. “That must have hurt. Looks like it still does.” Janelle was looking at Sara’s back, too.

“It hurt at first,” she said. “But it’s not so bad now.”

“How’d you fall?” I asked her.

“I, uh… I tripped going up the steps on the porch,” she said.

Which would have caused you to fall face forward, I thought, the rage continuing to build.

I decided to stop questioning Sara. It was obviously making her nervous. I’d sort out what to do next after I thought about it, hopefully calmed down a bit. That wouldn’t be easy.

“Next time, be more careful going up the stairs, silly!” I told her.

She had turned to face me again, now. She smiled nervously at me, nodding. “I will,” she said. “Sometimes I’m clumsy. That’s what my dad says.”

Clumsy. Yeah, sure. So clumsy of you, Sara, running into his fist like that. You need to learn to be more careful.

Our eyes remained locked for a moment. I knew. She knew that I knew. She looked away.

I tried to bring back the light mood from before. “C’mon, you two! Wash your hair, and then let’s get out of here and have cookies and milk in bed!”

Janelle squealed with delight. So did Sara, but a beat late. She was smiling like Janelle, but the smile seemed forced. I could tell that she was trying to bring back the happy vibe from before, to forget that bruise on her back.

The three of us got our hair washed, rinsed and conditioned, and got out of the shower. We dried off, the two girls put their clean panties on, I slipped into my tee-shirt, then they followed me to the bedroom. They wriggled back into their tee-shirts, I stepped into my panties on, and we all crawled onto the bed.

Now what? Well, for starters, I had to get Sara alone to question her. I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax, much less sleep, until I found out how she got that ugly mark on her back.

“Janelle,” I said, “why don’t you turn on the TV and find something we can watch in bed?” Then I turned to Sara, giving her a big smile. “Sara, would you help me get cookies and milk for all of us?”

She got down from the bed, still trying her best to be cheerful. It made me ache inside, seeing this soft-spoken little girl suppressing her feelings behind a strained grin.

I tossed Janelle the remote for the small bedroom television, and Sara and I went to the kitchen for snacks.

When we got to the kitchen, I placed my cookie jar on the table, then put a large plate next to it. “Can you fill up the plate, Sweetie?” I said. “Pile them as high as you can… I think we’re all pretty hungry.”

I silently poured three glasses of milk, then put the carton back in the refrigerator. Then I sat down at the table and took Sara’s right hand, looking into her frightened eyes.

“Sara, I’m not going to try and make you tell me anything that you don’t want to,” I said, calmly as I could. “But you and I both know that you didn’t hurt your back like that falling on your porch steps.”

I could feel her shiver. “I… I d-don’t…” She fell silent.

“Someone hit you,” I said simply. She looked away, unable to meet my gaze. I felt her trying to pull away, but held onto her hand. “I’m not going to push you, Sweetie,” I said. “But if you ever need anything, if you ever need help, or just someone to talk to, all you have to do is ask me, okay?”

Sara’s head moved in a barely-perceptible nod.

I wasn’t sure how she’d take it, but I did it anyway: I wrapped my arms around the child and hugged close, careful to avoid her lower back. She smelled sweet and clean, freshly showered.

What she said next made me freeze, catching my breath.

“Sometimes I’m bad.”

When I could breathe again, I drew back, seeking her eyes. She wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t believe that, Sara,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “I am,” she said. “My dad gets mad at me sometimes, ’cause I’m bad.”

Using every ounce of inner strength I had to remain calm, I put my hands on her shoulders and waited for her eyes to meet mine before I spoke. “Sara, listen to me, okay? I don’t care what you might do to make your father angry with you. No one deserves to be hit. No one, not for any reason. Do you understand? No one has any right to hurt you.”

She didn’t look as if she believed me. I didn’t want to push her any further, though. It felt like a victory that I’d gotten her to open up to me this much. Best to let her decide if, and when, she wanted to say more.

“Come on,” I said, clearly changing the subject. “Janelle must be wondering why we’re taking so long.”

Sara smiled wanly and nodded. I handed her two glasses of milk, and picked up the plate of cookies and my own glass. We headed back up to the bedroom without a word.

The upside? I was no longer fighting my feelings of lust at being so close to two barely dressed little girls. Lust was the last thing on my mind right now.

Okay, let’s clarify that. Sexual lust was gone. There was still lust there. This was more on the order of bloodlust, though. I welcomed it.

Less than an hour later, the two girls were sleeping soundly. I turned the volume down on the television, but left it turned on. Then I padded out to the hall and went to my office, where I picked up the phone and called Kate.

After I’d apologized for calling late, I explained everything that had happened. She was silent for a moment when I’d finished.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said quietly.

“Jesus has nothing to do with this, Kate,” I said.

“What are you going to do?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” I sighed. “You know how Social Services works in this state. They’ll investigate, he’ll cry and say he’s sorry, they drop the case, and then he’ll be twice as hard on her after they stop breathing down his neck. I don’t even want to think about what Sara’s mother must have to deal with.”

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “So now what?”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” I said. “But I do know that Sara is going to be asked to spend as much time as possible with Janelle. That way, she’ll have more time away from him. The two of them can hang out here after school. At least that gives her a few extra hours of peace every day.”

“But that still doesn’t solve anything,” she said quietly.

“No, it doesn’t,” I said. “Let me think on this for a little bit.” There was a tiny seed of an idea beginning to sprout in my mind. “I know someone who might be able to help.”

“Like who?”

“Well, like Michelle.”

“The cop? I thought you two weren’t seeing each other anymore.”

“Not romantically. But we’re still friends. And she’ll keep her mouth shut if I ask her to.”

“Well, it’s a place to start, I guess,” she said.

“Yeppers. And I’m going to have Sara call her mother in the morning. See if it’s okay for her to come over here and hang out with Janelle after school.”

“Okay, sounds like a plan.” She paused. “We have to do something, Meagan.”

“Yes, we do,” I replied. “I’m not going to let that fucker keep hurting her. She’s nine years old, for God’s sake. I’ll put a bullet in his head myself, if I have to.”

Kate was silent for a moment. “Don’t do anything stupid, Meagan, please,” she said. “I know it’s hard to think about Sara having to be in that situation for one more second. But you won’t solve anything if you get into trouble trying to help her.”

I sighed. My little sister, the voice of fucking reason. She was right, though. “Yeah, yeah,” I said.

“I know. I’ll be good, I promise.”

“Uh, Meagan? You are being good. You’re trying to help a little girl. What I’m saying is that you need to be patient, no matter how hard that might be.”

I hate it when Kate is right.

“I know. Listen, I’m going to get off here, and give Michelle a call. I want to try to figure out my next step here.”

“Okay, hon,” she said. “Keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “Night.”

“Night, big sister.”

I hung up the phone and stood, pacing back and forth in the office for a few moments. I went to the kitchen, and poured myself a short shot of whiskey, tossed it back, and decided to bite the bullet. Taking a deep breath, I reached for the phone.

Like Kate said, Michelle is an ex-girlfriend of mine. We had a brief, but extremely intense relationship. What ended things was that we were simply too alike in personality. We both tend to be dominating women, and the constant struggle for power destroyed any chance there might have been for a long-term thing between us.

When we parted, Michelle and I stayed friends, though it was always a rather uneasy friendship. Too much history, I suppose.

But our personal issues aside, Michelle is a genuinely good person, and a hell of a cop. You constantly hear policemen saying that they took up the badge “to help people,” which is one of the oldest cliches in the book – but in her case, it’s the truth. That whole “To Protect and Serve” mentality is something that she truly believes and lives.

She’d be able to offer a sounding board for me, if nothing else. And because this involved a little girl being harmed, she’d be every bit as passionate about this situation as I was.

I dialed Michelle’s cell number from memory. She answered immediately, a hint of surprise in her voice. It had been a few months since I last called. “Meagan? What’s up?”

“Michelle, hi,” I said. Skipping the preliminaries, I got right to it. “Listen, I’ve got a problem, and I need some advice.”

“What’s up?” she said.

“First, are you on duty?” I asked.

“Nope. Just signed out.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. That meant she wouldn’t be called away unexpectedly.

I spilled the whole thing, from the first time that I’d met Sara, to my conversation with her in the kitchen earlier tonight. I didn’t leave anything out, with one exception: Sara’s last name. I wanted to hear what Michelle had to say first. If she went all by-the-book on me, I’d keep Sara’s identity to myself. Somehow, I knew that going through the official channels would probably do more harm than good with this situation. My hope was that Michelle would feel the same way.

When I’d finished, Michelle was silent for a moment. “Son of a bitch,” she finally hissed.

“Yeah,” I said. “Michelle, this bruise on her back… that fucker punched her hard. Right in the kidney, for Christ’s sake.”

I heard her suck in a deep breath. “Don’t tell me who he is,” she said. “If I know, I’ll have to do something official.”

“Okay,” I said. Good. She wasn’t going to be the cop for this.

“Listen,” she said, “is there any way you can get a picture of her back? I mean, without letting her know what you’re doing?”

“Maybe,” I replied. “What for?”

“Because, if all else fails,” she said, “and it has to go into the system, you’re going to want documentation of any injuries.”

I thought for a moment. “Uhmm… I could set up my laptop in the bedroom, and try to maneuver her into position so that the webcam gets a shot of her back,” I said.

“High res cam?” she asked.

“Please, Michelle,” I said. “You know me and my computer equipment.”

She laughed. “Sorry. That was a stupid question, wasn’t it? Well, try to get a picture of the bruise.
Get her as close as you can, so it’s as detailed as possible.”

She fell silent again for a few heartbeats. When she did speak, I was more surprised than I let on. “And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe you and I should go and pay this guy a visit.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea, Michelle. If we show up at the house together and start in on him in front of his family, it’ll just piss him off more. Besides, I thought you didn’t want to do anything that you’d have to make official?”

“Who said I’d go in an official capacity? And you’re right, if we humiliate him in front the wife and daughter, he’ll end up taking it out on them.”

“So what then?” I asked. I was unsure how I felt about her getting so deeply involved in this. Michelle and I are friends, and I still like her. Our being lovers just didn’t work out. But this whole “we” thing was making me uncomfortable.

“Give me a day to think about it,” Michelle said. “I’ll dig into this guy and see what I can turn up, like if he has a rap sheet. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know what I find out. Give me any information you have about him.”

“Hang on.” I dug out the phone book and thumbed through the pages until I found him. “His name is Charles Davidson. The address in the phone book just says McConnell Road, no number.”

“Know how to get there?”

I gave her directions to where the house was located, then added, “His wife’s name is Colleen, the daughter is Sara, no “H.” That’s all I know.”

“That’s a start,” she said. “I’ll see what I can find out about him. I’ll call you tomorrow. And Meagan?”

“Yeah?”

“One way or another, we’ll stop this guy. You’re doing the right thing. For now at least, we’re going to do this without filing any kind of reports or getting Social Services involved. If it ends up that we have to go through the system, fine. But I’d rather avoid that. They’re not nearly as effective as they like to think they are.”

“Thanks, Michelle,” I said. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

“No problem, pretty lady,” she said. “Night.”

Pretty lady, I noted as I racked the phone. Great. I don’t need any terms of endearment. I don’t want to be obligated to Michelle for anything. Then I thought about that bruise on little Sara’s back.

Sometimes, the cost doesn’t matter. You just have to fix something, no matter what the price is. This needed to be fixed.

I turned off the light in the office and returned to the bedroom. Easing myself into bed, not wanting to awaken the girls, I found a place where I could lay in reasonable comfort. The two of them were sprawled out, taking up a good section of the bed. Thankfully, my bed is rather on the large side.

I awoke at one point to find myself with two little heat leeches curled up around me, one on either side. I was used to this from Janelle. She tends to cling when we sleep in the same bed, which is a fairly regular occurrence. It wasn’t until tonight that it had taken on a whole new level of meaning for me. Sara was also clinging to me, her head resting against one breast. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen her look truly at peace since I’d met her.

I drifted back to sleep.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Passing Cloud

With an almost overpowering surge of lust, I started to lick my sister’s cunt.

I took my time.

I began with a long, slow lick along the length of her slit, from her clit to her anus. I inhaled deeply. It smelled and tasted just as I wanted and expected. I knew what a little girl’s pee and bum holes were like and I needed that sense of reality to reinforce in my mind what I was actually doing.

At least that’s what I think I was doing as I look back.

It was a kind of ‘relishing the moment’.

Making it REAL.

I loved the response I got. Kathy released a long sigh of satisfaction as my tongue slid over her skin, then she gasped as it wriggled between her lips and then, “Oh!” she cried in surprise as the tip tickled her clitoris.

I tried to copy what Maria had done to me. I opened my mouth wide and engulfed her entire vulva, sucking her fleshy mound while letting my tongue repeatedly flick her sensitised button.

It wasn’t long before she was moaning in earnest. I noticed the different responses depending on where and how I licked her: the intake of breath when I touched her clitoris, the exhalation and prolonged “oh… oh… oh…” as I caressed the sensitive membranes along the length of her slit and between her lips, the various oohs and aahs as I varied the pressure and speed and intensity of my caresses, the working of my tongue.

My focus shifted slightly. Although I was loving what I was doing, and was to an extent satisfying my own sexual desires, I found my mind becoming slightly detached. I wanted to acquire knowledge, expertise. I wanted to be as proficient as possible for Maria.

I started asking questions.

Raising my face from my sister’s eager vagina, I said, “Tell me how it feels. Tell me where you like it most. Tell me how you want it.”

Exhaling with an extended sigh, her voice trembling, Kathy answered, “Oooh, that’s nice, there,” as I flicked my tongue around her pee-hole. As I trailed it along her labia, dipping into her slit as I went, she whispered, “Mmm that’s lovely.” Then as I paused over her clitoris and took it first between my pursed lips, then started to tickle it with the tip of my tongue, she arched her back groaning, “There, just there, lick it… oooh… not so hard, not so hard… oooh…” I softened the pressure of my tongue. I was still licking quickly — tiny rapid movements, but I was barely making contact. It was the subtlest of touches that I could manage, but it seemed to be working.

Her back remained arched, her head flung back — still tantalisingly muffled by her nightdress — as her arms strained and twisted, her legs remained stretched wide and her breathing got faster and shallower. “Ah… ah… there. Yes, that’s it… that’s it… like that… don’t stop… p-please!”

I rejoiced in her orgasm.

I tried to hold her in position as she came. I kept licking and licking throughout, not wanting to stop. I tried to pin her arms so I could continue, but she was too strong, her convulsions too violent. I had a fleeting thought that next time I would like to tie her down so I could lick her for as long as I wanted. I didn’t realise it then, but that thought would recur and become relevant very soon.

For the moment, though, I had achieved what I had set out to do. I felt ready for Maria. I sat up with an intense feeling of satisfaction and achievement and watched my sister recover.

Kathy lay trembling on her back as she pulled her nightdress down and covered herself up. I felt a twinge of regret as I lost sight of her nakedness. I wanted to tell her — order her — not to cover herself. To let me keep looking at her. I wanted to stay in command. Again, I thought about tying her up. The idea thrilled me. But it would have to wait. Soon, I told myself. Maybe tomorrow night. I instinctively felt that these little erotic encounters with my sister were falling under my control. I would decide what we did, and where and how. It just seemed right to me. Time would tell.

She slowly regained her composure. The trembling subsided and she pulled the covers back up. She looked at me sheepishly. I thought she was going to say something, but she just kept looking at my face. She had a half-smile and she bit her bottom lip as she kept staring at me.

I put my hand on hers and, smiling gently, said, “Was it alright?”

Her smile widened as she nodded silently. She grasped my hand tightly with both of hers then suddenly pulled it under the covers and, widening her smile into a wicked grin, pushed it back between her legs. With both hands she pressed my eager fingers into her vulva. Between her lips. “Put your finger inside,” she urged me.

I was surprised but delighted, and more than willing to comply.

My middle finger easily slipped into her hot wetness as, relishing the feeling, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth in a silent gasp.

She gripped my wrist under the covers, holding my hand in place, so I couldn’t have withdrawn even if I had wanted to.

After a few moments she opened her eyes and, still holding my arm firmly, said, “God. That was great! Your tongue feels a lot different to your hand… your hand is nice as well, though…” and she fell back, squirming into her pillow as she released her grip and I began to move my finger around inside her.

It amused me to watch my sister slowly writhing as I fingered her. I watched the changing expressions on her face, listened to the range of sounds coming from her mouth. She was obviously loving it.

But I wanted to be in charge, and at the moment that wasn’t happening.

I abruptly pulled my finger out and withdrew my hand from under the covers.

“Don’t stop!” she pleaded. “Please?”

“I’ll do it again tomorrow,” I told her. I was surprised at how firm I sounded. “I’m tired now.”

She looked disappointed and pushed her bottom lip out in a display of sulky petulance.

Ignoring her, I bent over and put my mouth close to her ear. I whispered conspiratorially, “I was talking to Maria after,” I lied. Again. Twice in two days. It was becoming a habit. Lying to my sister for my own gratification. I felt a wicked little thrill inside. I was being bad. Naughty. I liked the feeling.

“She told me a secret.”

I paused.

I could hear the bedside clock ticking.

“What?” Kathy hissed. There was urgency in her voice. “What did she tell you?”

I paused again. Thinking.

“She told me she was playing with her cousin, and part of the game was to be tied up and tickled,” the lie continued. “She said it feels even better if you can’t move. She said her cousin did it to her when she was tied up and she couldn’t stop her, and it felt great.”

I stopped there, having planted the seed, and slid into my own bed. My mind was still working. Somehow, I had to broach this with Maria. I had to get to her first. Plots and plans were forming in my mind. I found myself enjoying the intrigue.

“I didn’t know she had a cousin,” muttered Kathy as I snuggled beneath the bedclothes. “She didn’t tell me.”

*****

The next day was a glorious, sunny day. It was already hot under a clear blue sky as I skipped to school. Kathy didn’t even try to keep up. She seemed a little sullen and preoccupied and content to make her own way while I went on ahead.

In class, I spent the morning in reverie, wondering how I could get alone with Maria. A number of different scenarios ran through my mind – none of which were completely satisfactory.

Then, suddenly it seemed, it was mid-day.

I ran from class to our usual meeting place. Maria and the others were just arriving. I skipped the last few yards as Maria’s face lit up at the sight of me.

“Here she is,” she acknowledged me with a beautiful smile, “my little girlfriend.”

She casually threw her arm around my shoulders and led me along a path into the school park area. The school had extensive grounds with large grassed areas for sports fields and a number of small wooded areas as well as ancillary buildings.

We were a little way ahead of the others as she called to them over her shoulder, “I’m taking Sis on a walk. We’ll see you back here later.”

My little heart was aflutter. The fates were smiling upon me. I was alone with my Maria.

She smiled down at me. “I thought it would be good if it was just us,” she said.

I was incapable of speech. I beamed back at her.

We passed a host of other girls in various groups, sitting or lying on the grass. They paid us no attention, wrapped up in their own little worlds, enjoying the sunshine.

We wandered into a small group of trees, into the shade.

As we moved out of sight behind the bole of a large oak, Maria pulled me to a halt. There was no-one around, although we could hear the distant chatter of the groups of girls on the grass, out in the open.

There was an urgency in Maria’s voice as she pinned me against the tree and hissed in my ear, “Do you want it? Do you want to do it now?”

She knew the answer even as I nodded my agreement. She instantly dropped to a crouch as her hands lifted my skirt.

“Hold it up,” she instructed, her voice trembling, “while I take these down.”

I did as I was told. I held my little skirt up and leaned back against the tree trunk. My heart was beating wildly. I was excited, breathless, but also nervous. I quickly looked left, then right, anxious that we might be seen, but the coast was clear. I could relax.

Maria wasted no time peeling my pants down my legs. She pulled them down to my ankles, then took them off and laid them on the grass.

I felt the soft breeze against my bare thighs. Then I felt Maria’s warm breath as she murmured, “I love your beautiful little cunt,” and her hot tongue slid between my thighs and instantly started worming its way into my eager slit.

I opened my legs for her and she moaned her appreciation.

“Mmmm… Sis… oooohh, yes…”

Again, it felt wonderful. She used her tongue relentlessly, seeking out my little clitoris and licking, licking it. Her fingers traced delicate patterns across my thighs, front and back. She squeezed my buttocks, tickled the crease between them, probed deeper until she found my anus and caressed me there.

The cumulative effect was to transport me rapidly into ecstasy — the thrill of being exposed like this, the love and adoration I felt for this girl, the incredible pleasure that was centred between my legs and spreading throughout my entire body. I pushed my hips out as my orgasm built, I felt her tongue probe deeper into my slit, I pushed my mound against her teeth. I wanted her to bite me, hurt me, do anything — everything.

It was wonderful, fantastic. I came shuddering and trembling to orgasm. I couldn’t help crying her name. Maria. I couldn’t help telling her I loved her. “Maria. I love you. I love you…”

She stood and held my face in her hands. I was crying, I don’t why other than my being almost overwhelmed with ecstasy, with joy, with needing… needing to express my love.

She kissed me — kissed my forehead, my lips, my cheeks. She kissed away my tears.

“What, Sis? What’s the matter? Why are you crying?”

I looked up into her deep, brown, caring eyes. “I wanted to do it to you,” I sobbed “I wanted you to feel it.”

Her smile told me everything I needed to know. This time it was her looking around to see if anyone was nearby — but again, the coast was clear.

We hurriedly changed positions and while I put my pants back on, she pulled hers down, leaned against the tree and lifted her skirt. Spreading her legs she said, “There you are, Sis. Do what you want.”

I couldn’t believe it. I was so excited.

I dropped to a crouch so my face was level with her pubis. I stared at her cunt. It seemed the most beautiful and arousing thing I could ever imagine.

I put my face closer. I loved that she had hair there. It made her seem so much more mature, so much more sensual. I moved closer. I wondered if she would smell or taste like my sister. I hoped she would be different. I wondered if she would smell of pee — or more. I’m sure I wanted her to, wanted her to be dirty, so that I could clean her with my mouth.

Then I felt her hand touch the back of my head, gently pushing my face, my mouth, towards her sex. I realised she wasn’t just being nice, she actually wanted this herself. She wanted me to do this to her. She wanted me. I felt elated, joyous, proud. I put out my tongue and gloried in the feel of her pubic hair on the tip. Then, almost fainting with happiness, I pushed it into her slit.

It was wonderful.

Then, as I licked and sucked her and swallowed her juices, she began to talk to me – her voice trembling with passion – and that aroused me even more.

“Kathy told me what you did last night.”

I paused momentarily, afraid of what she might say next.

“No. Don’t stop. It feels fantastic.”

I carried on licking her.

“She told me what you said about my cousin… oh, God that feels, feels so… ooh…. she told me… ooh… what you said… about being tied up… aaah… ”

I pushed my tongue into her as far as I could, enveloped her clitoris with my lips. I kissed and sucked it, wanting this to be glorious for her.

“Aah… aah… I want you to tie Kathy up… I didn’t say anything, didn’t tell her I don’t have a girl cousin… I… aah… aah… oh, Sis, do it to her, do it… oooh don’t, don’t stop… ”

Afterwards, when she had put her pants back on and we were strolling back to the others after she had composed herself, she said, “God, Sis. That was fantastic. You can do that whenever you want.” I grinned, glowing with pride. “And if you want, after tonight, when you’ve done Kathy, you can do the same to me.”

“What?” I honestly didn’t understand.

“Tie me up and do it… if you want to…”

Continue on to Chapter 6

By Muffi

What the hell was I going to do?

I had no choice in this. I had promised that I’d call Sara’s mother and ask if she could spend the night here with Janelle and I. I had also promised Janelle that even if Sara couldn’t come, she could still come and spend the night with me.

Rock and a hard place? You’d better believe it.

For the first time I could remember, I didn’t trust myself. That’s a scary feeling, particularly when you don’t trust yourself because of some newly realized feelings about a little girl who spends a great deal of time in your presence.

I couldn’t face this right now. I needed to call Sara’s mother, and then I needed to pick up either both of the girls, or Janelle. I couldn’t, and I wouldn’t, break a promise to Janelle. I would have to put on a brave face, and prepare myself to spend the day and night with at least one, possibly two little girls. If I needed to suppress my feelings, I could do that. I’d face those feelings, try to sort them out and decipher just what the hell they meant tomorrow, when I was alone.

From their terrariums, Ellie and Nellie still seemed to be accusing me with their eyes.

When you can anthropomorphize two snakes to the point where you think they’re not only aware of your thoughts, but taking the time to make their own opinion of you known, you’re suffering from some major guilt.

Oh, yeah. Guilt. I was awash in guilt and shame over these newly discovered feelings.

I took a deep sip of my now cooling coffee, then went to my office. I looked up the Davidson’s phone number again, picked up the phone, and dialed. A gruff male voice answered.

“H’lo?”

“Hello,” I said, as pleasantly as I could. “Could I speak to Colleen, please?”

“Who the hell is this?” came the response.

Okay, then. Nice phone manners. I truly hoped that he wouldn’t piss me off. I wasn’t in the mood to be pissed off. Particularly by a male. Be nice, Meagan, I admonished myself.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I chirped. “My name is Meagan Bristol. My niece, Janelle, is a friend of Sara’s. Sara came to Janelle’s birthday party yesterday. I’m the one who brought Sara home. I just wanted to talk to Sara’s Mom for a…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” growled the voice, cutting me off in mid-sentence. “I don’t need yer life story, fer Chrissake. A name’ll do. What’d ya say it was?”

“Meagan Bristol,” I said, fighting to control my temper.

“Wait a minute,” he snapped. The phone thunked down on a table or a desk or something. Maybe the floor, for all I knew.

Well, fuck you very much, too, I thought. Asshole…

I heard him bellowing distantly. “Colleen!! Get in here! There’s some woman named Bristol, wants you on the phone.”

I grated my teeth for a moment, then tried to calm myself when I heard someone fumbling with the phone. Colleen Davidson’s timid voice came into my ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Colleen,” I said. “It’s Meagan Bristol, Janelle’s aunt. I’m sorry to call so early.”

“Oh, that’s all right,” she said. “I’ve been up for a while.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “The reason I’m calling is, on our way to bring Sara home yesterday, I kind of invited both girls to come to my house for a sleepover. Janelle would love it if Sara can come. They’d spend the afternoon and evening with me, we can have a girl’s pizza party, they’ll spend the night, and I can take them both to school tomorrow. Would that be okay? I know it’s kind of short notice, and I apologize. But Janelle would love it if Sara could come.”

“Uhmm… Well, I suppose that’s okay,” she said. “What time would you need her there?”

“Oh, don’t worry about getting her here. I’m picking Janelle up at about ten this morning, and we can head from there right out to your place and pick her up.”

“Oh, well, sure. That will be fine then.” She sounded relieved that I’d pick Sara up.

“Oh, thank you!” I said. “Janelle will be thrilled. She really likes Sara.” I did some quick mental calculations. “Let’s plan on Janelle and I being there to pick Sara up at about ten-thirty? Will that be okay?”

“That’s fine,” she said listlessly.

“Perfect!” I said. “Tell Sara to be sure to bring pajamas or a nightgown, and some clothes for school tomorrow. Her school books, too. We’ll be going straight from my house to school in the morning.”

“Okay. Thank you,” she said.

“Thank you, Colleen,” I said. “Janelle really does like Sara. I think they’re going to be good friends.”

“That would be nice,” she answered wistfully. “Sara doesn’t have too many friends. None, really.”

“Oh, yes she does,” I said. “She has at least one. Janelle.”

She almost laughed, I think. Then it was gone. “Okay, then,” she said. “Sara will be ready at about ten-thirty. We’ll watch for you.”

“That’s great,” I said. “I’ll see you in a little while. ‘Bye, now.”

“Goodbye,” she said.

I hung up, then dialed Kate’s house. Janelle answered. I heard her shouting as she picked up the phone. “It’s Aunt Meagan,” she shrieked out. “I got it!” Then back to me, voice as sweet as cherry coke, “Hi, Aunt Meagan.”

“Hiya, sweetie,” I said. “How’re you this morning?”

“I’m good!” she chirped.

“Well, then,” I said, “I just got off the phone with Sara’s mom, and as soon as I pick you up, we’re going to go and pick Sara up, too. After that, it’s Girl Power for the rest of the day, and a sleepover at my house tonight.”

“Awesome!! What time are you picking me up?”

“I’ll be there at about ten o’clock. Are you all packed already?”

“Yup! I have my pajamas and school clothes ready, and I have my schoolbooks, too. I have three backpacks of stuff!”

I rolled my eyes. Janelle may be mostly tomboy, but when it comes to packing for an outing, she’s all female. She packs enough to go on a one night sleepover to last most people a week. I laughed.

“Okay, then, Sweetie,” I said. “I’m going to get showered and dressed, and then I’ll be on my way. Let your mom and dad know, okay?”

“I will. See ya in a while, Aunt Meagan. ‘Bye!”

I was smiling when I hung up the phone. To my horror, I was also feeling aroused at knowing she’d be with me for the day, and overnight. Not all out horny, but definitely aroused.

“Fuck me,” I muttered.

Scratch that. The last thing I needed to be thinking about right now was being fucked. That just wouldn’t do at all.

I went into the living room, picked up my now ice cold coffee, and glanced at the two terrariums again.

“Stop looking at me like that, will you please?” I muttered to Ellie and Nellie. “I promise, I’ll be good.”

They looked as though they didn’t believe me. Smart snakes. I wasn’t sure if I believed me, either.

My shower was an exercise in futility. What? Oh, no, I got clean. But it was interesting, to say the least. And frightening. I didn’t want to masturbate. Well, okay, let me rephrase that. I was afraid to masturbate, because I didn’t want to know where my thoughts might go if I did. I got ready for my shower quickly, and decided that I’d avoid using my hands on myself. I have this wonderful natural loofah scrubber on a long wooden handle. It’s an absolute necessity for exfoliating. Anyway, I thought that if I used just the loofah, and didn’t use my hands anywhere on my body, I might make it out of the shower without masturbating.

Yeah, yeah. I know it was stupid, but I was grasping at straws. You’ve never grasped at straws before?

Anyway, I got into the shower with the best of intentions. I soaked down the loofah, squirted body wash over it, and began to scrub.

Once again, so much for good intentions.

If you’re a female, and you’ve never had the experience of using a loofah to masturbate in the shower, I’m here to give you my official endorsement. You have to be careful, because they can be kind of rough, but it’s worth the risk.

As soon as the damned thing scraped across my nipples, I knew I’d lost the battle. Okay, so it wasn’t really a battle, it was more of a small skirmish. No? All right then, I’d already raised the white flag before the enemy even came into sight.

I pulled the loofah away from my nipples, and scrubbed down my back, then my arms, then my belly, then my legs and my still rather nicely shaped butt. Unfortunately, I’m not the kind of person who can leave unwashed body parts. The loofah was going to have to go between my legs eventually.

Might as well get it over with, I thought.

I parted my legs, and brought the loofah down across my mons, intending to be quick about this. Yeah, right. The best laid plans, and all that.

I gasped as the rough loofah scraped over the sensitive skin of my pussy. God, that’s good! I thought. Yeppers, it sure was. Too good. That thing wasn’t going to leave my genitals until I’d come. I knew it. You know it. What can I say?

I tried. I mean, I really, really tried. I conjured up images of a past girlfriend whom I’d been particularly in lust with almost constantly. I created a fictional woman in my mind, complete with enormous breasts and a thick dark thatch of pubic hair. For some reason, I thought the breasts and the pubic hair seemed important today.

They may have been important, but they failed utterly. In the back of my mind, I heard Janelle’s voice. “I love you, Aunt Meagan…”

My labia parted as if they had a mind of their own. The loofah scraped over my clit, and I shuddered, moaning loudly. It wasn’t a wordless moan, either.

“Oh, Janelle, baby…”

I had to grab the handle of the shower door to stay on my feet as the orgasm hit. I shuddered hard, feeling a warm gush of fluid run down my legs from my pussy. I clamped my legs together, locking the loofah in place, rocking it slightly as I ground myself into it. A second wave hit me.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan. Do it, please… Do it for me, Aunt Meagan…”

As the waves subsided, I pulled the loofah from between my legs, panting heavily. Meagan Bristol, you are truly one sick, fucked up slut, I thought disgustedly.

Muttering to myself, calling myself some very choice names, I got out of the shower and dried off quickly. I moisturized, brushed out my hair, decided to forgo the makeup, and went to get dressed.

Let’s see. Jeans, or jeans? Uhm… jeans, I think. I pulled on a pair of panties, followed them up with some old and comfy jeans, and pulled a red tee-shirt over my head. I skipped the bra, since it was just me and the two kids today. My decision to go braless had nothing to do with the fact that Janelle would be able to see my nipples poking through the material of the shirt. Honest. It didn’t.

I shoved my feet into a pair of old sneakers, and I was pretty much ready to go. I looked at the clock. It was nine-thirty. I still had a few minutes before I had to leave. I did my daily shutdown and reboot of the computer, checked my email, and then went and filled my huge travel mug with coffee before grabbing the car keys.

As I passed through the living room, Ellie and Nellie were looking at me as if to say, We know what you did. And we know what you were thinking when you did it.

“Come on, you two,” I said. “Knock it off, please? I’m really trying here.”

The look on their faces seemed to call me a liar.

Let me explain something about snakes. They care very little for what’s going on around them, unless they feel threatened or hungry. If you have a snake that was raised in captivity, it’s accustomed to humans. If your snake thinks about you at all, it most likely considers you to be some sort of a strange tree or something. In other words, they really aren’t emotional creatures. They’re nothing like a cat or a dog in that sense.

Today, though, I was seriously considering writing a paper on the topic of the emotional response of snakes to twisted, sick individuals they come into contact with. Ellie and Nellie were still regarding me with looks of stark accusation.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” I said to them. “Janelle and Sara will be here for the rest of the day and overnight. You two can keep an eye on things, and make sure that I don’t get out of line. Deal?”

Don’t even think about it, they seemed to be saying. We’ve got our eyes on you.

Good. That was taken care of. The snakes would be guarding Janelle. I felt better.

Have I mentioned to you that I’m a strange person? No? Well, I am.

I locked up the house, backed the Chevy out of the garage, and headed to my sister’s house to pick up Janelle. Kate met me at the door, grinning.

“I hope you’re ready for this,” she said. “She’s hyperactive this morning.”

I hope I’m ready for it, too, I thought. I didn’t say it, though. I would have had to explain myself. I wasn’t ready for that.

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “I love having her over, you know that.”

“And she loves visiting you,” she replied.

Suddenly, Janelle came bouncing through the door, one backpack slung over her shoulder, lugging two more in her hands. She was wearing cut-off denim shorts that showed off almost all of her legs. I mean, these were short-shorts. Above it, she wore a little midriff pullover top that left her belly exposed. White sneakers and ankle socks completed the outfit.

God help me, I thought.

“Hi, Aunt Meagan!”

“Hi, Sweetie! You need some help with those?”

She grinned, nodding. I took one of the backpacks from her hands.

“Give me a kiss goodbye, Honey,” said Kate. Janelle turned her face up to her mother, who stooped to smack her on the lips. “I’ll pick you up at Aunt Meagan’s after work tomorrow, okay? You have fun. Oh! Did you close your bedroom door? I don’t want to have to see that creature.”

Kate shot me a look. I blinked my innocence.

Janelle rolled her eyes, grabbing my hand. “Yes, Mom, I closed my bedroom door,” she said sarcastically.

I smirked at Kate. She stuck her tongue out at me.

“Bye, Honey. See you tomorrow,” Kate called as Janelle dragged me my Chevy.

“Bye, Mom. Love you!”

“I love you too,” Kate yelled.

I opened the rear hatch so we could stow Janelle’s backpacks. She got into the front seat with me for the trip to Sara’s house. The whole way there, I was acutely aware of her slender little thighs on the seat next to mine.

Stop it, Meagan. Ellie and Nellie will kill you and eat you.

“I hope Sara likes pizza,” Janelle said.

“Who doesn’t like pizza?” I replied.

“Ellie and Nellie?”

I laughed, and Janelle gave me one of her signature smiles. I melted inside. It was going to be a very long day and night.

When we pulled into the Davidson’s driveway, the door opened, and little Sara stepped onto the porch with a backpack on her shoulders, carrying a rather oversized duffel bag. The duffel bag was bigger than her. My god, I thought, she’s as bad as Janelle! Her outfit was a close match for Janelle’s; tight, very short shorts, sneakers, and a tank top. I suddenly found myself looking at her a bit differently.

Jesus fucking-A Christ, Meagan! Knock it off!

Colleen Davidson was standing in the doorway, watching Sara head down the steps. I had a sudden thought, grabbed my purse, got out, and went up on the porch. “Hi, Colleen,” I said. “How are you?”

“Fine, thank you,” she said with a wan smile.

“I’m going to give you my address and phone number,” I said, “just in case something comes up and you need to get in touch, or if you just want to check on Sara.”

Colleen nodded listlessly. I wrote the information down on a slip of paper and handed it to her. Over her shoulder, I could see a man I assumed to be the Davidson patriarch sitting in a recliner in the living room, watching television. There was a half empty bottle of vodka on the table next to him, the cap off, a glass about a third full of clear liquid next to it. He was wearing old jeans and a greyish, badly stained wife-beater tee-shirt. The wife-beater seemed to fit his personality.

Geez! It wasn’t even quite ten-thirty in the morning yet, and he was already into the vodka. How attractive is that?

Janelle had gotten out and was helping Sara carry her things to the Chevy. They stuffed everything in the back with Janelle’s things, and then climbed into the back seat. I saw them buckling their seatbelts. I turned back to Colleen. “Well, then,” I said, “I’ll drop Sara off at school with Janelle in the morning. And don’t worry, she’s in safe hands for the night.” I sincerely hoped that was a truthful statement.

Colleen gave me that ghost of a smile again, and nodded. “That’s fine, then,” she said. “Could you try to make sure she remembers to bring everything with her when she leaves? Sometimes she forgets things.”

I laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure everything is packed back up before they leave in the morning.”

“Thank you again,” she said. “It’s nice to see Sara finally making friends with someone.”

“I’m just the go-between,” I said. “Janelle is the one making friends with her.”

She smiled back, a genuine smile this time, I think. “Sara really likes her, too,” she said.

“Good! Let’s hope they become the best of friends.”

“Have fun with them,” she said. “Tell Sara her father will be here when she gets home from school tomorrow.”

“I will,” I said. “Bye, now.”

“Goodbye.” She moved back a step, and the door closed slowly.

There was no way I was going to remind Sara that her asshole dad was going to be waiting for her. I was certain that she was already more than aware of that fact.

I got into the Chevy and started the engine. The two girls were chattering away in the backseat. Sara was very animated today. But then, Janelle has that effect. You can’t help but be excited when she’s around.

I glanced in the rear view. “Okay, sistahs!” I exclaimed. “What’s the plan for today?”

The two heads came together for a moment, then I heard a loud cry, in unison. “PIZZA!”

I snorted. “That’s it? Pizza? That’s your grand plan for the day?”

Janelle shrugged. “Oh… we’ll figure it out, Aunt Meagan. Do you think it would be okay if Sara can hold Ellie and Nellie for a minute?”

“If she wants to, sure. They haven’t been fed recently, so they’ll be fine with being held.”

Snakes don’t appreciate being handled when they’ve recently been fed. It takes them a while to digest their food, and being held is uncomfortable for them when they’ve just had a snack.

Sara’s mouth formed a little O shape. “You really mean it?” she piped. “You’d let me hold them?”

“Of course, as long as you’re careful. Janelle handles them a lot.”

Her face lit up. “Oh, cool!”

“Wait’ll you see ’em, Sara,” said Janelle. “They’re way bigger than my snake is. Aunt Meagan’s had ’em for a long time, and they’re pretty big. They’re so pretty, too.”

Sara giggled. “My Mom would faint if she ever saw me holdin’ a snake.”

“Sweetie, a lot of people feel that way. Janelle’s Mom is having a hard time with her snake being in the house right now, too.”

“Why are people so scared of them?” she asked.

I looked in the rear view again. “Janelle, you want to explain that to Sara?”

Janelle nodded. “People are scared of ’em cause they don’t understand ’em. Most snakes aren’t poison, but lots of people think they all are. ‘An snakes that you get as pets were never wild snakes, they were born to be pets. If people would just give ’em a chance, they wouldn’t be such scaredy-cats.”

I was smiling in the front seat as I listened to Janelle’s explanation. Pretty well reasoned, especially for a nine-year-old.

“I used to be scared to death of ’em,” she continued. “But Aunt Meagan taught me stuff, and now I really love her two snakes, and mine, too!”

Sara was listening in rapt attention as the “expert” expounded further. “Wild snakes are good to have around, too, ‘cos they eat mice and rats and bugs and stuff. Pet snakes don’t do that, at least not if ya keep ’em in a terrarium. I guess if ya let ’em free in your house they would. But I don’t think my mom would like that very much.”

By now we were pulling into my driveway. I drove into the garage, and the girls flew out of the Chevy, dashed around to the back and began digging out their belongings. I unlocked the door, and we all stomped into my kitchen. Four backpacks and an oversized duffel bag wound up in the middle of the floor. Janelle was dragging Sara through the room by one hand.

“C’mon, Sara, you gotta see Ellie and Nellie!”

I shook my head, smiling, and followed them to the living room.

Ellie and Nellie stared at me. Have you been behaving yourself, Meagan? they seemed to be asking.

Bite me, I thought.

We don’t bite, you know that. But we could choke the life out of you.

Guilt-ridden? Me? Please…

Sara was cooing softly as she took in my two snakes. I’ve had Ellie for almost twelve years, Nellie for about ten. They’re both fully mature snakes, which means that their growth has slowed significantly. They’re both about seven feet long, and weigh about sixty pounds. When Janelle handles them, she’s always sitting on the floor. They’re too heavy for her to pick them up and carry around.

Sara looked up at me as I entered the room. “They’re huge!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, they’re fully grown,” I said. “Do you like them?”

She nodded vigorously. “They’re awesome!”

“Later on, I’ll take them out and you can handle them,” I said. “If you want to, that is.”

“Oh, yeah!” Sara replied. “That’d be cool!”

“Okay, you two. What are we doing tonight?” I asked. “I mean, Janelle, what do you want to do for sleeping arrangements? Do you and Sara want the guest room? Or do you want to camp out on the floor in here tonight?”

“Aren’t you gonna sleep with us, Aunt Meagan?” she asked. “It’s a sleep-over party, ya know. We should all sleep together.”

I was afraid of that. Damage control? Yeah, right. Good luck.

“Okay,” I said, “then where do you want us to sleep? On the floor in the living room, or where?”

“Can’t we all just sleep in your bed?” She turned to Sara. “She has the biggest you’ve ever seen in your life!”

Great. So much for damage control.

I could feel Ellie and Nellie’s gaze, burning into my back. We’re watching you…

I forced a smile. “Okay then, my room it is Let’s get your things upstairs, and then we can figure out what we’re doing for the rest of the day.”

Continue on to Chapter 4

By Passing Cloud

I stared at Maria’s lovely face as she played with me. I was gently swaying to this sensual rhythm, floating in pleasure, loving her more and more with each caress, when she leaned forward and whispered the question, “Have you ever been tongued?”

Her meaning didn’t register at first. I was in a half-dream state with the edge of ecstasy creeping towards me.

As her words sank in, a picture formed in my mind. It was a picture that thrilled but horrified me. Did my lovely Maria actually want to lick me… there? My childish awareness of bodily functions and sexuality hadn’t yet made any sort of erotic link. Surely it was ‘dirty’? All this flashed through my immature mind and I, discomfited, shook my head silently.

Smiling, and still gently rubbing, Maria whispered, “Well, we’d better try it then…”

She motioned to the others to come and help her and then, together, they lifted me bodily off the low table, carried me over to a chest of drawers and sat me atop it. I was totally passive and compliant in their hands. It just seemed so natural for me at that moment.

They carefully pushed me backwards so that I was lying down, then, guided by Maria, they lifted my legs high and wide and held me, gently but firmly, in place. Kathy had one leg, Nancy the other. Jude, crouching, stretched my little lips apart. It hurt a little. Maria dragged her chair over and sat facing me. Her head was level with my sex.

Lying on my back, held in position, I stared vacantly upwards. I can’t remember what I looked at. My mind was turned inwards. My awareness was all about what I was feeling. I felt helpless; I felt vulnerable, I felt that I was giving of myself — a kind of loving generosity to my darling Maria, and then to her acolytes. I felt strangely humbled by the attention. I felt Maria’s breath between my legs as she spoke.

“That’s right, Jude. Hold her open.”

I felt the others shift their position as they bent to look at me, exposed like that.

Kathy spoke. Gleefully she said, “I can see everything you’ve got, Sis. Everything!”

Somehow that simple statement really aroused me. I began to feel wanton — insofar as I interpreted the feeling. I tried to expose myself even more. I pushed my legs further apart so Nancy and my sister had to adjust their positions. I lifted my hips, tried to push my cunt out. I wanted to be touched, felt, penetrated, violated, anything! Suddenly trembling with urgency, I hissed, “Do it then. Do it!”

I heard Maria softly sigh, then felt her breath getting warmer and warmer, and then, as she whispered “Ohh… lovely,” I felt her lips brush against my clitoris.

I gasped. I groaned. I felt a sense of shock, of surprise. That briefest of touches: so soft, so gentle, so, so wonderful.

And then, and then — my God.

She started to lick me.

Her hot, wet tongue slipped into my slit and caressed those sensitive membranes with concentrated, deliberate purpose.

It felt utterly, utterly incredible.

Within seconds, it seems, I began to cry out, to moan.

“Aaah! Aaah! Aaah!” On and on.

I remember hearing myself, but I could do nothing about it.

Maria herself moaned and murmured as she did me.

With each long, slow, lascivious lick she whispered her pleasure. “Mmmm… beautiful… ooooh… gorgeous… mmmm…”

I floated away to where everything was pleasure, was ecstasy.

I felt her breath, her lips, and her tongue — especially her tongue. Licking me, probing me, penetrating me.

So dirty, so filthy in my mind. So, so sexy.

Her lips pursed around my clitoris, the tip of her tongue now tickling that desperate little point with tiny rapid movements.

Fast she licked it, then faster and faster.

I felt it coming. That feeling. Like before, it rushed upon me and swept me away. Stronger than the first.

I screamed. I cried out loud. I cried. I screamed her name. I screamed that I loved her. I screamed that I loved it! That feeling.

That strange, powerful, wonderful feeling.

My body arched strongly. I thrashed, I struggled, I writhed desperately as I came. The orgasm surged through me. Somehow the others held me in place. At one point I opened my eyes, wildly staring. I saw Nancy staring back at me. She was flushed, panting, she was gripping my leg. Stretching me wide.

And she was smiling.

I had to close my eyes again as another surge of orgasmic ecstasy shuddered through me, then another and another.

Maria was still licking me. She kept on doing it, but more gently… then gentler still.

Then Jude released her grip on my stretched labia and Maria instantly enveloped them — enveloped my whole vulva with her lips. She tenderly sucked it into her mouth. I heard her sucking and swallowing my juices, mingled with her saliva. She moaned again. “Mmmm.”

She moaned, I moaned.

Slowly the feelings subsided into that beautiful warm glow and Maria (I believe) reluctantly withdrew. The others helped me up and off the chest. They helped me dress. We didn’t say a word until we were about to leave the building.

Maria put her arm around my shoulders. She stroked my hair. I looked up at her. As she smiled down at me, I felt complete adoration. I felt so warm and so grateful, I knew that I would do anything for her. Anything she told me. I wanted her to take me. Make me hers. Make me her pet. Do anything she liked to me. I gazed at her beautiful face with love and longing.

All she said was, “How was it?”

It was enough. I had recovered enough composure to reply, smiling.

“Fantastic. It was fantastic.”

Then, as the others slipped out through the door into the sunlight, and Maria and I paused on the threshold, she leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially into my ear, her lips brushing my hair, “Good. We’ll do it more then. A lot more if you want. And you can do it to me, too.”

*****

As I stepped, blinking, into the bright light of the day I felt joyous.

I skipped to my lessons but didn’t learn a thing. I skipped home but didn’t speak to my sister. My mind was very much elsewhere — in a constant flight of fancy as I dreamed and dreamed of Maria. Fantasies overwhelmed me. I pictured a never-ending variety of scenes, vignettes where Maria and I indulged our desires.

I imagined that she loved me, adored me as much as I adored her. She held me in her arms and kissed me on the mouth, kissed me passionately like an actress on television being kissed by the hero. I pictured her whispering loving words in my ear as she undressed me, and then I would display myself to her — naked, exposed, supplicant in every way. “Maria, Maria, I’m yours. Do what you want to me.”

This prolonged sexual reverie had distracted me for hours, and now I lay awake in my bed idly stroking myself, my tiny fingers tracing delicately along the line of my labia. My sister was in the neighbouring bathroom. I was listening intently to her, counting through the stages of her toilet. Waiting eagerly for her to come into the room. To get into bed.

I heard Kathy on the toilet, heard the trickle of her urine and tried to visualise it. I imagined my face very close to her vagina — as if I was kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, watching her pee. Just inches away.

The thought aroused me. I thought of what Maria had done to me. I imagined doing the same thing to my elder sister. I suddenly realised that I wanted to do that. That I wanted to get my big sister naked, stripped bare. Then get her to open her legs so I could lick her. I wondered if Kathy would smell, even taste of pee. I wanted to find out.

I heard the toilet flush. A few seconds later, the door opened and Kathy came into the room. I watched her close the door and tiptoe across to her bed. In the half-light I saw she was wearing a nightdress. The same one as last night. I hoped that, like last night, that same nightdress would soon be up around her neck with her naked body laid out for my pleasure.

I waited silently as she got into bed. I saw as she lifted the covers then raised and swivelled her legs into place that she wasn’t wearing anything under her nightdress. My heart began to race in anticipation.

“Are you awake, Sis?” she whispered.

“Yes.”

A long pause. “You know today… with Maria…?”

“Yes…?” my heart was pounding now, my hand furtively feeling.

“Did it… did it feel — you know?”

This time I paused. I thought for a few moments about how to express how I felt. How I felt about Maria. But that wasn’t what I wanted from my sister. I loved Maria. I had a different love for Kathy, and just now I wasn’t interested in that kind of love. Just now, I wanted to be dirty. I wanted to smell my sister’s pee. I wanted to touch her where it was ‘naughty’. I wanted to find out how to do it properly with my tongue. I wanted to use my sister. I wanted to be in control.

So I didn’t reply. Instead, I pulled back the covers and padded across to Kathy’s bed and sat. I looked down at her. She was lying passively on her back, the covers were pulled up to her neck, her hands resting on the outside.

We didn’t speak for a moment, then Kathy reached across and started fiddling with the button on my pyjama trousers. “Why don’t you take these off and get in here with me?” she whispered. I could see her grinning in the faint light.

For a moment, I was unsure what to do. It would have been fun to strip off and get in with her. I would have enjoyed letting her have her way with me, but that wasn’t my plan. I had to take the risk. So I good-humouredly slapped her hand away, saying, “No. Don’t do that. I might take them off for you after. But first I want to do this!”

I abruptly pulled the bedclothes down to the bottom of the bed, revealing her fully to my inspection. Her nightdress was rumpled high above her knees, nearly at her groin, her legs slightly parted. To my delight, she didn’t move. She seemed happy to take the passive role. Like last night, I hoped.

She made as if to speak, but I quickly pressed my finger to my pursed lips and bent over so our faces were nearly touching. “Sssssh,” I insisted. “Don’t say anything.”

Then I reached down and started to pull her nightdress up. Obligingly, Kathy raised her hips.

I pulled it right up to her neck and made a point of reaching underneath, to make sure it was all the way up all the way around.

I told her to raise her arms above her head so I could pull the nightdress higher — part way along her arms.

Without a murmur she let me do it and, in so doing, I completely covered her face at the same time.

I sat back to take a long look at her. Seeing her lying there so compliantly thrilled me. Her body, faceless and completely naked, no longer seemed to be that of my sister. It seemed as if this lovely lithe, smooth young body spread before me was there purely for my indulgence. I was really, really aroused.

I placed my hands on the inside of her thighs and, with just the slightest pressure, she spread her legs wide for me.

I looked her up and down and tried to take in all the details. Her slim hips, her ribs, her belly button, her small pink nipples, her mound, her slit…

I leaned across her and switched on the side light so I could see better. The light cast a golden glow across Kathy’s body, leaving her covered face in shadow. Suddenly she appeared so much more anonymous to me… so much more exciting and enticing.

I put my hands on the inside of her thighs again, higher this time, nearly touching her vaginal lips. I spread her legs even wider and bent over that flat belly so I could see her sex clearly. “Lift a bit,” I instructed, and she duly obliged, lifting her little buttocks off the bed, bringing her cunt closer to my face. I bent closer, then closer still until my lips were touching her belly just above her pubic mound. She flinched at the contact; murmured, “Oh,” but didn’t move. I knew she would be able to feel my breath against her skin. I hoped she was as aroused as I was. I hoped she wanted the same thing as me.

I moved my hands to her buttocks and spread them apart so I could look at her anus. I was entranced again by that tight little hole. I moved my hand so I could touch it – lightly – with my fingertip.

Again she murmured, “Oh,” with an intake of breath.

I put my face even closer. Sniffed her. I wanted her to smell of pee. Of the toilet. I wanted this to be dirty, rude, forbidden.

There was just the slightest scent of urine, but it was enough. It strangely satisfied my need and somehow justified my wanton lewdness. It is difficult to explain, but I felt somehow vindicated in my desires – that what I did now would be the right thing to do.

I bent my head even lower and extended my tongue. With an almost overpowering surge of lust, I started to lick my sister’s cunt.

Continue on to Chapter 5

By Muffi

I woke the next morning feeling deliciously lethargic and lazy. I knew that I had to motivate myself to get moving and go help with Janelle’s party, but I stayed under the warm covers for as long as I could. I wondered vaguely why my purple vibrator was lying next to me on the bed, and then remembered that I had drifted off to sleep quickly the night before, following an almost unbelievably intense orgasm. I hadn’t had the energy to even put the toy away.

For the record, before I got myself out of bed, I did take a little time to make an attempt at repeating the pleasure of the night before. I won’t bother to describe it, I’m sure you aren’t interested in a repeat of that so soon on the heels of my last description. I will only say that while it was quite pleasurable, it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as the previous night.

Oh, well. As the Rolling Stones said, you can’t always get what you want. I was still feeling something of the afterglow from last night, anyway, so I wasn’t even close to being disappointed. I mean, there really is no such thing as a bad orgasm, right?

Smiling and humming quietly to myself, I padded into the bathroom for a quick shower, brushed my hair and teeth quickly, threw on a hint of makeup, and then went back to my bedroom to get dressed.

I’d decided on a casual look for the day. I knew that most of the little girls who would be showing up would be wearing pretty dresses, but I also knew about playing in the sprinkler. One way or another, the party would end with everyone dressed casually. Besides, I figured that with something like fifteen prepubescent girls in one large gathering, pandemonium reigns supreme — so jeans would be the safest choice.

I pulled on a sheer burgundy thong. Well, you never know. I could meet a bored mom who was looking for a stroll on the wild side, couldn’t I? Okay, admittedly, the possibility was rather remote. The bra that made up the other half of the set was also sheer. It did nothing to hide my prominent nipples, but at least I was sort of following the rules of modesty. It was a bra, right? A barely there bra, true; but a bra nonetheless.

I pulled a thin tank top over my head, black, with rather narrow shoulder straps and a low, scoop cut neckline that was trimmed in black lace. It displayed my cleavage rather nicely, I thought. Finally, I sat on the bed and pulled on my favorite, worn out but immensely comfortable black boots with thick clunky heels. I stood up and surveyed the result in my mirrored walls, satisfied that I looked not only comfy and casual, but marginally respectable as well.

That’s me: Your friendly, admittedly nymphomaniacal, neighborhood lesbian. The epitome of respectable small town womanhood. Yeah, right…

Lock up your womenfolk, fellas. Meagan is flying solo, and her horniness knows no bounds!

Yes, I do think about sex almost constantly. So shoot me.

Janelle’s birthday cake was on a very large wooden cutting board, sitting on my kitchen table. After I had started my coffee brewing, I eyed the dimensions of the cake, then went into the garage to dig out a couple of cardboard boxes. After some skilled surgical work that involved a box cutter and some duct tape, I had an open box that was large enough to place the cake in. It had no top, but I could cover it with aluminum foil. I drive a mid-sized Chevy crossover, so I had plenty of room in the back to set the cake down for the ride.

By the time I had opened the rear hatch of the Chevy, lugged the cake out there and loaded it up, my coffee was ready. I poured a huge mug and snapped the lid on. My travel “mug” holds just over a half pot of coffee. Caffeine addict? Me?

I took a quick sip of rich, hot black coffee, set the mug down, and went to the hall closet to dig out the birthday presents I’d bought for Janelle. I grinned. My sister was going to have a hissy fit. Oh, well. This was about Janelle, not about her mother. Truthfully, I was going to enjoy Kate’s reaction every bit as much as I would Janelle’s.

The largest of the two brightly wrapped packages had to go in back with the cake. That actually worked. I wedged it between the front seats and the edge of the cake box, which help to steady the cake in place. The smaller package went on the front passenger seat. There was a third package, as well, but I needed to wait to load that until I was just ready to leave. It would go in the front seat as well.

I went back inside, picked up my coffee, and went into my office to check my email. My graphics work is almost exclusively computer generated, created for various web applications. I do some work for print media also, but the majority of my work is for cyberspace. Email is my main form of communication with clients and prospective clients. I check it faithfully several times every day.

Nothing pressing. That was a good thing; I wouldn’t spend the day with half of my mind trying to solve any work related issues. I turned off the computer monitor, leaving the machine running. I almost never shut down my computer for any length of time. Just a daily, five minute shutdown to clear the RAM and cache space.

I grabbed my denim jacket and pulled it on, made sure everything was turned off except the computer, checked the doors to be sure they were locked, and grabbed Janelle’s third present. I went into the garage, set the package on the front passenger seat, and started up the vehicle. I punched the garage door opener, and when it was fully raised, I backed out into the driveway. I hit the button to close the garage back up, and headed off to my sister’s house, about a mile and a half away. I turned on the CD player and sang along with Sarah McLachlan, only slightly off key.

It was still several hours until the party. I pulled into Kate and Michael’s driveway just a few minutes before ten o’clock. It was a beautiful, early autumn day, bright and sunny, with the promise of warm temperatures by noon. I parked the Chevy in full sunlight, got out and opened the rear hatch, and unloaded the cake. It was heavy enough that I had to use both hands, so I’d have to come back to close the hatch.

I used my elbow to ring the doorbell, because I couldn’t open the door. My hands were full of birthday cake. My brother-in-law opened the door, grinning at me.

“Hey, Meagan,” he said, “come on in. You need some help with that?”

“Just with the door, thanks,” I replied.

“You got here just in time,” he said, laughing. “Janelle is about to go into meltdown. Kate’s been pretending that she forgot to bake the cake, and telling Janelle not to worry, she’ll get to it soon.”

I shook my head, unable to hide my smile. “My sister, the eternal bitch,” I said.

“You said that, not me,” he grinned.

“I can say it,” I said conspiratorially. “You, she’d probably murder for that.”

“She would indeed,” Michael said. “Slowly, and very painfully.”

His face as he spoke gave lie to his words. Michael loves my sister with everything he’s got. The only other person he loves even near as much as Kate is Janelle.

“You can think it, Michael. I won’t tell, I promise.”

He laughed, showing gleaming white teeth. “Come on,” he said. “That thing must be getting heavy.”

As we walked into the kitchen, Janelle was wailing at her mother. “Mom, come on! You hafta get my cake made!”

“Look who’s here, guys,” said Michael loudly.

Kate and Janelle turned as one and saw me. When Janelle saw the box in my hands, she spun back to her mother, glaring at her with an accusing look. She didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to. She just glared, and that look said it all. Then she spun back to me, all smiles again. “You made my cake, Aunt Meagan? Is it chocolate? Can I see it, please, please, please, please, please?” The words spilled out in a rush.

“Yes, I made your cake, Sweetie. Of course it’s chocolate; do you think I’d make any other kind for you? And no, you may not see it. It’s a surprise. You’ll have to wait until the party.”

Janelle gave me a mock pout that lasted all of about two seconds. Then she was all smiles and giggles again. “Wait’ll you see the outfit Mom got for me to wear today, Aunt Meagan. It’s so awesome!”

“We’re waiting until about noon to put it on her,” said Kate. “We want to minimize the amount of time that she’ll have to get it dirty.”

Janelle blushed. She has a tendency to get dirty pretty quickly sometimes, and she knows it.

“I can’t wait to see it, Sweetie. I’ll be here all day. There’s no rush.”

“You wanna see it now? I can show it to you.”

I shook my head. “Nope. I want to wait to see it when you’re in it. It won’t be half as pretty on a hanger as it will when you’re wearing it.”

She blushed prettily again. I was struck by her innocent beauty. My sister and her hubby make awfully pretty kids, I thought.

The rest of the morning was spent bustling around the house and the deck, decorating and preparing everything for the arrival of a pack of half-wild girl children. There would be a few of the Moms there, as well, which would provide Kate, Michael and myself with some much needed technical support. We were going need all the help we could get.

At about noon, we figured that we were about as ready as we were ever going to be. There were balloons floating in the air everywhere; Michael had rented a tank of helium and bought balloons of every shape, size and color. They bounced lazily against the ceiling inside the house, and they were attached by strings from railings, table legs, anything that you could tie a string to. My major contribution to the party had been a huge banner that I’d designed and had made. It was suspended from the eaves of the house above the deck, a bright pink banner with white lettering, each letter outlined in a different primary color.

HAPPY NINTH BIRTHDAY, JANELLE!!

Janelle had gone upstairs to change into her new outfit. The three of us were standing in the kitchen, taking a break and trying to psyche ourselves up for the impending chaos. Actually, I really was looking forward to this. It was going to be fun.

I turned at the sounds of clunky footsteps coming down the hallway towards the kitchen. Janelle pranced proudly into the kitchen, her eyes locked to mine, grinning from ear to ear. I looked at her, then I glanced at her mother, who was also grinning at me. She was dressed up, alright, but not in what could remotely be thought of as a frilly little girl outfit.

She was wearing an almost perfect duplicate of an outfit that I favor, and that Janelle had more than once labeled as “awesome.” I gulped. She looked adorable! Around her neck was a black velvet choker, with a silver heart suspended from the front. She wore a white, long-sleeved blouse that was heavily ruffled down the front and at the cuffs. Over the blouse, she wore an open, black leather vest with silver buttons. Her pants were also black leather, with an exposed button-fly, again with silver buttons. On her feet, she wore a pair of boots that were identical to the ones I had on, only smaller.

She stood in front of me grinning for a moment, then slowly spun in a circle. When she was facing me again, she looked up at me, still grinning. “Wha’d’ya think?” she asked.

“I think,” I replied, “That except for the fact that you’re much prettier than I am, you look like a miniature Aunt Meagan!”

Janelle beamed at me, then rushed forward and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I returned the hug, happily.

Kate was still grinning. “She’s been after me for months to let her get an outfit that matches yours,” she said. “She finally wore me down.”

“She’s good at that,” Michael added.

It was a pretty expensive outfit to get for a little girl who would most likely outgrow it within a year. But then, we all tend to indulge Janelle. Kate can’t have any more kids; she’d had to have a hysterectomy following Janelle’s birth. They’d discovered two malignant tumors. She was their only child, and all the more precious to them because there would be no others.

Indulging Janelle never seemed to spoil her, though. She didn’t develop that attitude of just expecting to get whatever she wants. She was truly appreciative of anything that she was given.

When she stepped back away from me, her mother noticed that Janelle had forgotten to brush her hair. It was tousled wildly. “Janelle! Are you going to greet people with your hair looking like that?”

Janelle reached one hand up to her head to touch her hair. Her mouth formed a surprised “O” shape, and she spun around and ran back upstairs to take care of it.

“She really adores you, you know,” said Kate quietly. “Everything is, ‘Aunt Meagan this, Aunt Meagan that.’ She wanted that outfit so badly, so she could look like you.”

It was my turn to blush. “Yeah, well, don’t tell her, but the feeling is mutual. I love her like she’s my own.”

Michael grinned. “No one has to tell her. She knows she has you wrapped around her little finger.”

I glared at him. “You should talk,” I said.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, ducking his head with a sheepish grin. “She’s pretty special, isn’t she?”

“That she is, dear brother-in-law,” I replied. “That she is. You should be proud of her.”

“Trust me,” he said quietly. “I am.”

“Okay, you guys,” said Kate. “This concludes our regular meeting of the Janelle McCarthy Fan Club. We need to focus. It’s going to get insane around here very soon.”

That statement was followed immediately by a hesitant knock at the front door. I glanced at Kate, then headed down the hall to answer the knock. I heard Michael mutter behind me. “Let the games begin.”

I opened the door to find a rather plain, mousy, tired looking woman who was probably in the neighborhood of thirty years old, but looked much older than that. Next to her was a slender little girl with coal black, shoulder length hair and very pale white skin. I smiled at both of them brightly.

“Uhm, is this the right place? For the birthday party, I mean?” the woman asked.

“You got it,” I said, grinning. I looked down at the little girl again. “You must be Sara.” The little girl nodded shyly and smiled.

I looked back at her mother. The woman looked defeated. By what, I couldn’t tell, but there was defeat painted all over her face, and in her posture. I wondered vaguely what had happened to make her this way. “I’m Colleen Davidson,” she said quietly. Her eyes shot to the floor, then back to my face. “Are you Janelle’s aunt?”

“Meagan Bristol,” I said, nodding. “It’s nice to meet you in person.” I extended my hand, and the woman took it, shaking hands with me rather listlessly.

“Sara, Janelle is upstairs fixing her hair,” I said. “You can go on up if you want to.”

Sara was holding a large white envelope, and a rather worn out looking backpack. She looked at her Mom, then smiled shyly again, and walked past me and up the stairs to find Janelle.

I looked back at Colleen Davidson. She met my eyes steadily, but with a wariness that I didn’t quite understand. “Would you like to come in and meet Janelle’s parents?” I asked her.

“Oh, no, thank you,” she said. “I have to get going and get ready for work. Maybe another time.” She paused for a moment. “I’m sorry we couldn’t get Janelle a gift.”

I waved a hand at her. “Stop, please,” I said. “Janelle is thrilled that Sara’s here. I saw the card. She’ll be perfectly happy with that.”

The woman nodded and smiled briefly. At that moment I heard a Janelle give a happy shriek from upstairs, followed by shy laughter that must have been Sara. “I think Sara found Janelle,” I said.

“You’ll take Sara home after the party?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said. “Just give me the address.”

“We’re off of McConnell Road,” she said. “It’s the third right after you turn off Route 5. About two miles. You can’t miss it. Sara will get you there.”

“I know the area,” I said, nodding. “I’ll run her home as soon as everything dies down.” I smiled at her again.

Colleen nodded at me. “Thank you,” she said quietly. She hesitated for a moment. “For everything.”

I wonder what that means, I thought. “Thank you,” I replied, “for letting Sara come. Janelle really wanted her to be here.”

“I need to be going,” she said. “Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. “I’ll make sure to tell Sara to call you as soon as she gets home.”

“That’s not necessary,” she said quietly. “My husband will be there.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied. Must be a one vehicle family, I thought.

The woman turned and started to her car. “Goodbye,” I said. “Try to have a good day at work!” No response.

What an odd woman, I thought.

Over the next hour or so, more and more kids showed up. Some came with gifts, some with just cards, all of them were chattering and laughing in that way that’s peculiar to little girls. Before too long, it was utter pandemonium, with sixteen, count ’em, sixteen hyperactive eight and nine year-old-girls shrieking, laughing, giggling and running madly through the house and around the back yard.

Make that fifteen. I noticed that little Sara hung back from the rest of the kids, looking a little shy, and very lost. I wasn’t the only one who noticed, either.

It didn’t take long for Janelle to notice that Sara hadn’t been included in the chaos. Then the count dropped to fourteen hyperactive little girls, and two quiet little girls sitting at the picnic table on the deck.

I shook my head slowly. You continue to amaze me, Janelle, I thought.

I watched as Janelle stood up, taking Sara’s hand and leading her out onto the lawn to join the other kids. Though she still looked shy, little Sara was at least taking part now, joining the other girls. Then I noticed Sarah-with-an”H” off to one side, whispering to a couple of other girls, pointing in Sara and Janelle’s direction. Uh-oh, I thought.

Sarah-with-an-H is one of those picture-perfect, Barbie doll looking kids who always looks as though she absolutely knows that she’s better than everyone around her. Since she had inherited her looks from her mother, I can only assume that the attitude comes from the same source. But while genetics and environment might explain the kid, they aren’t an excuse for her behavior. I don’t know the little girl well enough to actually dislike her, but I trust my sister’s opinion. She already looked like a supreme little bitch.

Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with being a bitch from time to time. I embrace my own inner bitch quite regularly. It’s a girl thing. Get over it. I stop short of outright cruelty, though. I had heard enough about Sarah-with-an-H to realize that she probably enjoyed being cruel.

I heard Sarah-with-an-H call Janelle’s name, then saw her motioning to Janelle to come over. Janelle walked over to the small group of girls, and Sarah-with-an-H leaned close and whispered something in Janelle’s ear. Janelle froze for a moment, then stepped back, a look of rage — not anger, but true rage — slowly spreading over her features.

Here we go, I thought. It’s show time.

Janelle must have been speaking very softly, because I could see her lips moving, but I couldn’t hear a word. I stood up and started towards the group of girls. Then I heard one word come from Janelle, loud and very strong. “Now!”

Janelle had raised her arm and was pointing towards the house. I moved towards the girls, seeing surprise, then confusion, then anger on the face of Sarah-with-an-“H.” She masked it quickly, fixing a smug, haughty little smirk in place.

I was close enough to hear what Janelle was saying now. I was thankful that she’d had the sense to keep her voice low.

“You’re not welcome here anymore, Sarah. I want you to leave. Now.”

Sarah-with-an-H wasn’t going to be discreet, though.

I’d come into their field of vision now, and Sarah-with-an-H shifted her gaze towards me for a moment, then flicked back to Janelle.

“Fine,” she said, loudly enough to make sure that everyone heard her. “You think I want to stay here anyway, with your dyke girlfriend and your queer old dyke aunt hanging around?”

With a hateful look in Sara’s direction, then another in mine, Sarah-with-an-H stalked off towards the deck, calling for her mother. Her two sidekicks followed in her wake. Moe, Larry and Curly, I thought.

I sighed. Some things never change.

Janelle was on the verge of angry tears, but she held them back. She looked up at me.

“You okay, Sweetie?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Yup. I’ll tell you later what she said.”

Janelle glanced in Sara’s direction. I followed her gaze, and saw the little girl standing by herself again, looking distressed and ready to cry. She probably thought this scene was her fault.

Without another word, Janelle went back to Sara, whispering in her ear. I don’t know what she said, but it worked, because I saw a huge grin spread across Sara’s face. In under a minute, the remaining kids were beginning to return to their normal activities.

I headed back to the house, and went into the kitchen. I was in time to see the three little girls heading down the hallway towards the front door, three gift wrapped packages in their hands. There was an ice-queen-resembling woman standing in the kitchen with Kate, her face a mask of anger. The mother.

She was almost screaming at Kate. “You let her be around these children? What’s wrong with you?”

I knew what that meant. I smiled to myself. Time for me to embrace my inner bitch. Beware of flying venom, please.

I saw Kate open her mouth to speak. I raised my hand quickly to stop her. Her mouth closed slowly. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much.

“Excuse me,” I said, as coldly as I could. “Is there something you’d like to say to me, uhm… Miranda? It is Miranda, right?”

The woman spun to look at me. A look of haughty distaste spread across her perfect features as she looked me over from head to toe and back again.

“Is this true?” she asked me. You’re a… a… ” Her voice faltered.

“A lesbian?” I finished for her. “Am I a lesbian, Miranda? Is that what you want to know?” She stared at me with loathing in her eyes. “Why don’t you tell me, Miranda? Do I look like a lesbian?”

I raised my hand to my mouth and ran a finger over my teeth. “Hmm… No fangs. No claws that I can see on my hands. No slobber running down my chin looking at all these pretty little girls. I don’t know, Miranda. Tell me, am I a lesbian?”

That icy stare continued to try burning holes through my skull.

“You don’t get out much, do you, Miranda? This is a pretty small town, and except for college, I’ve lived here all my life. I don’t exactly try to hide the fact that I sleep with women. Ask anyone in town about Meagan Bristol, and they’ll tell you that I’m queer. Funny thing, though. Most people don’t seem to have the same problem with it that you do. I wonder why that is?”

The stare grew hateful. I was glad that there were no kids in the kitchen at that moment. “You’re an abomination!” She spat the words at me.

I smiled warmly. Okay, okay, not so warmly. But I did smile.

“Ah, now I understand,” I said. “I offend your Christian sensibilities, is that it? Well, Miranda, perhaps it will comfort you to know that when I’m making passionate love to another woman, I regularly call out to God, to Jesus Christ, and to all of the saints in heaven. Sex can do that for you. You should try it sometime.”

I looked her slowly up and down one time, then leered at her. “You’re not too bad looking,” I said. “If your husband can’t do it for you, I’d be willing to give it a try.”

She gasped, a look of horror crossing her face. I heard a choked snort come from Kate.

“If I see you near my daughter again, I’ll have you arrested,” she spat at me.

“I’ll do you one better, Miranda,” I said. “If I ever see that evil little bitch you call your daughter harassing my niece again, I’ll hunt you down and kick your proper little ass. I won’t bother with the police.”

Miranda’s mouth opened and closed several times, like a goldfish out of water. A look of fear flicked through her eyes, but it was masked in an instant. She spun around and stalked out of the house. We heard a car start, and speed off down the street.

The next thing I heard was Michael, laughing quietly. I turned to look at him. He was grinning at me.

“What?” I said.

He stared at me for a moment longer. “And you call Kate a bitch,” he murmured.

Kate sputtered and started laughing loudly. Too loudly for my taste. I couldn’t help it, though. I started laughing with them.

The three of us headed back out to the deck. The other moms came over to make sure everything was okay; the general consensus seemed to be that everyone was well rid of the Ice Queen and her little clone, as well as the two snotty friends. Kate quickly repeated what had happened, in a hurried, hushed whisper so the kids wouldn’t overhear. Peals of delighted laughter rang out as the women got the gist of what had gone down.

One woman, someone I didn’t recognize, broke away and came towards me, smiling brightly. “It’s Meagan, right?” I nodded. “Listen, if you decide you’re going to go beat that bitch’s ass, I want in on it,” she said.

Damn! I thought. I grinned at her. “Hopefully it won’t be necessary,” I replied. “But if it is, you’ll be the first to know.”

She nodded. “Good. I’ll hold you to that.”

I saw Michael smirking at me as the woman returned to the small knot of motherhood gazing out at the children on the lawn. “What?” I said.

“Nothing. Just watching the show.”

I stuck my tongue out at him. See how mature I am? He just laughed, the prick.

Janelle came trotting up onto the deck, telling her mother that she had to “pee really, really bad!” I decided I wanted to take a moment to talk to her, make sure she was okay, and perhaps find out what Sarah-with-an-H had said that set her off. I gave Michael a quick whisper telling him that I wanted to talk to Janelle for a minute; he nodded.

I followed Janelle down the hall to the small half-bath on the first floor. She heard me behind her and turned, her face lighting up in a dazzling smile when she saw who was following.

I went into the half-bath with her, and closed the door behind us. Janelle was squirming in that peculiar way that we females do when we really have to go. She gave me a questioning look as she quickly started unbuttoning her leather pants.

“I just wanted to check with you, Sweetie,” I said, “and make sure you’re okay after that little spat outside.”

Janelle’s face darkened for a moment. “Yeah, I’m okay, Aunt Meagan,” she said. “That stupid Sarah can go hang out with her other stupid friends for all I care. I don’t wanna talk to her anymore. And I sure don’t wanna be friends with her anymore, either.”

Her hips shimmied back and forth as she shucked her pants and undies down below her knees and sat on the toilet.

“What did she say that upset you so much, Sweetie?” I asked.

I heard a sigh, accompanied by the splashing of urine into the toilet bowl. Janelle looked up at me with a scowl on her face. “She just said some nasty stuff about Sara, and then about you.”

“You can tell me, Sweetie,” I said. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard it all before, anyway.”

“She said that Sara is a queer little dyke, and if I hang out with her, then I must be a dyke, too. Then she said I prob’ly am a dyke, cause you are, and everybody knows that dykes always try to turn little girls into dykes, too.”

It’s a good thing that little witch had left. An even better thing that her mother had gone with her.

“Sweetie,” I said, “I’m so sorry you had to put up with something like that. I wish there was something I could say that would make it better.”

She gave me a puzzled look. “Why? I mean, I know you’re gay, an’ sometimes you call yourself queer or a dyke. But it doesn’t sound mean or dirty like it does when Sarah says it. I know she’s just stupid. Besides…” Janelle had peeled of a length off toilet paper and was wiping herself now, with a complete lack of self-consciousness.

“I know you an’ I’ve met some of your girlfriends. There’s nothing wrong with you. Even if I do turn out to be a lesbian, I don’t care. I’m still me, too.”

Nine years old, I thought. Nine years old, with the wisdom of a forty-year-old. My eyes burned for a moment, hearing those words from this lovely little girl.

Janelle stood up and flushed the toilet, then got her pants back into place. I got myself composed while she did.

I looked at her standing there. For a moment, I flashed on my thoughts of her last night, after I’d masturbated. That made me uneasy for some reason, so I pushed the thought aside.

“Hey,” I said, smiling at her. “Have I told you yet how absolutely “hawt” you look in that outfit?”

She blushed deeply, then stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist, hugging me tightly. I put my arms around her and hugged her back.

“I love you, Aunt Meagan,” she said softly.

“I know you do, Sweetie. I love you, too.”

When we got back to the deck, Janelle rushed out to the lawn to rejoin her friends. Michael looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“She’s fine,” I said. “That’s one very remarkable little girl you have there.”

He gave me a smile. “You and Kate are the two main women in her life,” he said. “How could she be anything but remarkable?”

Sometimes my brother-in-law says the sweetest things.

“Stop it,” I said, “or I’ll tell Kate you’re hitting on me.”

He grimaced. “Fine. I won’t try to compliment you again.”

I grinned at him. He stuck his tongue out at me. The maturity in this family is absolutely boundless.

Kate started clapping her hands together loudly, calling all of the girls back up to the deck. It was time for the main event. The crowd was down to thirteen now, which really wasn’t much of an improvement. Well, okay, it was an improvement. Without Sarah-with-an-H and her two snotty little friends, it was a far more pleasant pack of rather noisy little girls.

Janelle, with little Sara by her side, sat down at the large picnic table. She seemed to have decided that she was going to adopt the new Sara, and I have to say, I approved of the idea. Though painfully shy and self-conscious, she seemed to be a very sweet little girl.

Kate nodded to me. That was my cue. I went into the house and began peeling back the foil from the box that held the cake. Michael was there with me, his job was to bring the ice cream. When he saw the cake, he burst into laughter.

“I did it for Kate as much as for Janelle,” I said, smirking.

“I’m sure she’ll just love it,” he said, still snickering. “Janelle, I mean.”

“She’d better. It took me hours to make.”

I got the cake out of the box by simply tearing the duct taped contraption apart. I stuck nine birthday candles in the main part of the cake, walked to the back door, and waited for Michael to light the candles for me. When we were ready, he opened the door for me, and I walked out to the deck, singing “Happy Birthday” as loudly as I could, and completely off key.

Yeah, I know. I said I don’t sing in front of an audience. Birthday parties consisting of a pack of half-wild little girls don’t count.

Everyone joined in singing with me, and I placed the cake in front of Janelle. Her mouth dropped open in surprise, then she giggled delightedly, beaming up at me. I followed her eyes as they glanced up at her mother, who stood beside her with a shocked, open-mouth look of disbelief on her face.

There were gasps, and lots of high-pitched little voices saying things like, “Coool,” “That’s so awesome,” “Ooh, sweeeet!”

The main part of the cake was a huge tree. It was a full three feet from the base of the trunk to the top of the leaves. At the top, the “foliage” spread widely out, about a foot or more to either side. Suspended from the branches, one on either side, were two beautiful snakes, hanging by their tails. Their bodies hung down, then curled back up towards the branches, where their heads faced out, smiling broadly with Cheshire cat grins.

When I say it took hours to make, I wasn’t lying. The whole cake itself was chocolate, Janelle’s favorite. The trunk of the tree was frosted with dark chocolate icing. The branches of the tree, and the two snakes, were done in white chocolate frosting that I’d tinted with food coloring. The leaves were bright green. The two snakes were colored to resemble Ellie and Nellie.

My snakes are rather rare strains of boa constrictors. Ellie is known as a Sharp Strain Albino boa. Her skin is an almost pure white base color, with very pale yellow markings. Nellie is a Salmon boa. Her skin is a light tan base color with darker tan to salmon pink markings. They’re both very beautiful snakes. I was quite proud of how accurately I’d depicted them on the cake.

“Snakes?” Kate gasped. “You made a birthday cake with snakes?”

“They’re boas, Kate,” I said, grinning. “They won’t bite. Though I have to admit, they are showing a lot of teeth, aren’t they? And they aren’t just any snakes, Kate. It’s Ellie and Nellie, which you’d know if you ever got close enough to look at them.”

Kate gave a long, hard shudder. “I hate snakes,” she said, “You know that.”

I grinned at her. “I do, yeah.”

My sister glared at me for a moment, but even she couldn’t pretend to be angry for long, not when Janelle was so obviously delighted. “Okay,” she said, “you win. Someone get some pictures of this monstrosity before it gets destroyed.”

Michael snapped a few pictures of the cake, Janelle blew out the candles, everyone clapped, and then one of the other moms helped her to start cutting it up and serving it. It was something of a hit — to eat, I mean. Nothing like a good, straight from scratch chocolate cake buried under mounds of ice cream.

I was going to have to be a good girl, and spend some extra time working out this week. No way I was passing up a plateful of my own creation.

When no one could eat any more cake and ice cream, it was time for Janelle to open her presents. I wanted to save mine for last. I went in to help Kate gather the gifts up and bring them out to the deck.

As we gathered everything together, Kate gave me her “special look.” “Thanks, sis. You did a wonderful job on that cake, even if you did have to be a bitch and bring snakes into my house.”

“Don’t call me a bitch… not just yet, anyhow!” I retorted. “You haven’t even seen the presents I have for her!”

She peered at me suspiciously. I blinked innocently. I can look innocent if I try. Really, I can.

Kate wasn’t buying it. “I’m not going to like this, am I?”

“Don’t be silly,” I said. “Janelle’s going to love it, which means you’ll love it because she’ll be so happy.”

“Uh-huh. Why don’t I believe you?”

I shrugged, innocently again. “I have no idea,” I said, giving my beloved sister a mock-hurt look.

The problem with trying to look innocent — at least when you’re me — is that people know you only too well. They’ve learned that I’m seldom innocent.

We brought Janelle’s gifts out to her on the deck. Mine stayed in the house, waiting until the end. There was the usual array of toys, books, clothing, little girl’s purses and makeup kits, etc. Most everyone who knows Janelle is aware that she’s not the type to play with dolls much, though she does have a few. One mom had even given her a student chemistry set. I couldn’t help but be amused as I pictured Kate trying to deal with miniature explosions and foul odors coming from Janelle’s bedroom.

Finally, it was my turn. I took a deep breath, ready to face the music, even though I knew that this was going to make Janelle’s day.

I decided to bring her gifts to her one at a time. I excused myself, went through the house and out to my Chevy to retrieve two small packages from the front seat, then a large one from the cargo area. I headed back in, put two of the packages on the kitchen table, and brought the first one out to her.

Kate watched me suspiciously as I handed the gift to Janelle. Michael stood on the sidelines, ready to run interference for me, I hoped.

Janelle unwrapped the small present. It consisted of two books. One was a very thick, very comprehensive volume titled simply, “Herpetology.” Herpetology, for those of you not familiar with the term, is the study of reptiles and amphibians. Including, of course, snakes. It was probably a little over her head, but eventually, I hoped that it would come in handy for her. I’d also given her a smaller, much simpler book called, “The Complete Book of Snakes.”

I’d written a short inscription in each, congratulating her on her ninth birthday and on her increasing love of snakes, wishing her much enjoyment as she read and learned more about them.

She looked up, smiling. “Thank you, Aunt Meagan,” she said.

I arched an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m not finished yet, Sweetie.”

Kate had a dawning look of horror on her face. Uh-huh, baby sister. I went there.

I brought out the largest gift next. It was huge, but not all that heavy, really. Janelle had to stand to tear the wrapping paper from it. It was a fifty gallon glass terrarium kit, complete with everything that would be needed to keep a snake comfortable and healthy.

She beamed at me. “Oh, sweet!” she exclaimed. She shot her mother a look. “Maybe someday, I can even have a snake to put in it!”

I glanced at Kate. She was still looking horrified, but also a little ill now. She got it. Janelle still didn’t. “There’s one more gift to go, Sweetie,” I said quietly.

I came out of the kitchen with the other small package. Kate glared at me, shook her head, then a look of defeated resignation fell over her face.

“Be careful, Sweetie,” I said, placing the package in front of her. “This one is a little fragile.”

Carefully, Janelle started to tear off the wrapping paper. She didn’t notice that there were small holes punctured in the paper around the sides. The paper came off to reveal a white cardboard box with small air holes around the sides. Gingerly, she opened the top of the box, and I heard her suck in a sharp breath, then coo quietly.

“Oh, Aunt Meagan, it’s beautiful!” she exclaimed.

Inside the box, coiled tightly in one corner, was a small, immature boa constrictor. I’d searched for several months to find this snake. She was about eight months old, still very young. Janelle was right. She was beautiful.

“She’s very young, Sweetie,” I said. “You’ll have to take extra special care of her. And listen, I want you to know something. If it’s really too hard for your Mom to handle having her in the house, you can keep her at my house, okay? You’re there almost every day, anyway, so you’d be able to take care of her and see to keeping her healthy.”

I glanced at Kate. I wanted her to know that the gift really was about making Janelle happy, and not about trying to irk my sister. She didn’t look very happy, but she forced a smile.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “This is something that Janelle really wants. I can learn to deal with it. But, I refuse to go in that room with the snake in it. I really don’t have to clean in there much anyway, but you’re going to have to vacuum that room every week. If you can promise me that you’ll keep your room clean, the way I ask you to, then you can keep it here.”

She looked at Michael, who had a look of shock on his face. “I can’t believe I just said that,” she muttered.

Every adult present burst into laughter at that.

I turned back to Janelle. “She’s called a Sunglow boa, Sweetie,” I said. “She’s very rare. She’s also one of the most beautiful boas I think I’ve ever seen.”

That was the truth. The snake was a very pale orange-white base color, with bright orange markings that were the color of the outside of a Creamsicle. Her eyes were the same color as her orange markings. She was a gorgeous specimen. I was lucky to have found her for sale.

“Can I pick her up?” Janelle asked me.

I nodded. “Very carefully, though,” I said. “She hasn’t eaten since I got her, but she’s still very young and delicate.”

Gently, Janelle reached into the box and lifted the young snake out. The rest of the little girls all “Ooo’ed” and “Ahhh’ed,” though they didn’t come too close, either.

Correction. Sara stepped closer. “She’s so pretty!” she exclaimed.

Janelle beamed at her. “You can pet her if you want to,” she said.

Very carefully, Sara reached out and gently stroked the top of the snake’s head. The slender forked tongue flicked out, tasting the air, scenting on the little girl’s hand. Sara cooed delightedly. “She’s not slimy at all!”

“Nope,” said Janelle. “Snakes aren’t slimy. They’re dry and smooth, really.”

She gently draped the young snake around her neck, cupping her hand beneath the neck the way that I’d taught her. I saw Kate shudder out of the corner of my eye.

Okay, so at least part of me was having a blast at my sister’s discomfort. Yes, I’m a bitch. Trust me, she’d think of a way to get back at me. She always does.

Keeping an eye on the pack of girls who were admiring the snake, I went to my sister. “Listen,” I said, “she really can keep her at my house if you want. I don’t think she’ll have a major problem with that. It will still be her snake.”

Kate scowled at me, then sighed heavily. “No, it’s okay,” she said. “I’ll learn to live with it. But you’d better watch your back.”

I looked at her innocently. “Why?” I asked.

“Because, you are so going to pay for this.”

“Now, now, little sister,” I teased. “Mind your manners!”

She glared again. “It’s not my manners that you need to worry about,” she said.

I laughed, patted her back and returned to the pack of girls.

“Janelle,” I said, “I think maybe we should take her up to your room and set up her terrarium, okay? She’s still a baby, and she’s had enough excitement for one day.”

Janelle nodded. I picked up the terrarium and headed into the house, Janelle on my heels, the other girls following behind to watch.

For the time being, we’d have to put the terrarium on the floor. I’d talk to Michael about building a stand for it. I set it down, and set everything up. Little Sara ran to the bathroom with the water dish, and returned with it filled almost to the top. I had her put it in the terrarium, back in one corner. Janelle stepped forward. I gasped quietly.

Suddenly, I found Janelle to be exotically beautiful. A slender, strawberry blonde little girl with enormous dark blue eyes, dressed in black leather, with a beautiful boa constrictor draped around her neck. She was only nine, and incredibly sexy.

I felt a familiar pang in my belly, then a flush of guilt. What the fuck? I thought, incredulously. I shook the feeling away. If you ignore something, it will go away, right?

Nope. Not on this plane of existence.

Gently, Janelle removed the snake from her neck and placed it in the terrarium. I showed her how to fasten the top so that the snake couldn’t escape, and gave her directions on using the light and heat lamp mounted in the top. She listened carefully, nodding.

When I stood, Janelle wrapped her arms around my waist in a tight hug, and I automatically returned it. “Thank you, Aunt Meagan,” she whispered. “You’re the best!”

“Nope. You are,” I said.

I rounded up the pack of girls and shooed them out of the room. The poor snake needed some peace and quiet. Me, I needed some time to think.

The party was finally winding down. The kids never did get around to playing in the sprinkler. One by one, the girls and mothers were leaving. Eventually, it was down to me, Michael, Kate, Janelle and Sara. Sara had come out of her shell a little bit, especially now that it was just her and Janelle left. She bustled around with Janelle, both girls helping the adults with the cleaning up.

She really is a sweet kid, I thought.

It came time, though, when I needed to take Sara home. I asked Janelle if she’d like to ride with us. She shot her mother a questioning look, and grinned when Kate nodded to her. I gathered up my purse, and told the girls to head out to the Chevy.

Sara went to Kate and Michael, smiling, but looking down at the floor shyly. “Thanks, Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy. I had fun today.”

Kate smiled. “You’re welcome, Sara,” she said. “And you’re more than welcome to come and visit any time you’d like.”

Sara smiled again and nodded. “Thank you,” she said, simply.

The two girls tumbled down the hall and out the front door. I heard the doors slamming on my Chevy.

“Bye, you guys,” I said. “It was a blast!”

Kate was still glaring at me. Michael looked like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

“See you, Meagan,” he said. “Drive carefully.”

“Always,” I said. “I’ll drop Janelle off on my way home from Sara’s.”

They were walking me to the door. I got into my Chevy and started the engine, telling the girls to make sure their seat belts were buckled. I waved at Kate and Michael, then Janelle waved, and then Sara joined in. We headed off.

“So what are you gonna name your snake?” I heard Sara ask.

Janelle was quiet for a moment, as though she was thinking about this. I glanced in the rearview and met her eyes, looking at me thoughtfully.

“If it’s okay with Aunt Meagan,” she said, “I think I’m gonna name her after her.”

Pleased, I smiled in the mirror.

“Is that okay Aunt Meagan? Do you mind if I name her after you?”

“She’s your snake, Sweetie,” I said. “You get to name her anything you want to name her.”

“You’re sure she’s a girl snake, right?”

I nodded. Janelle knows that determining the gender of a snake can be tricky if you don’t know what you’re doing. “Yup, she’s a girl,” I said. “She saw the vet yesterday morning for a checkup, and I had him make sure. He also said that she’s in very good health.”

Janelle grinned hugely. “Cool! Then her name is Meagan!”

I felt that familiar little stabbing sensation in my lower belly again, this time accompanied by a little “skip-thump” of my heart. I was beginning to feel a little confused.

Okay, a lot confused. Not to mention guilty. I was still doing passably well with the denial thing, but I knew exactly what that stabbing sensation in my belly meant.

The only thing about denial is that you know you’re lying to yourself, even while you do it. I wasn’t at all comfortable with this reaction to my niece.

My nine-year-old niece, I reminded myself firmly.

I noticed that the closer we got to Sara’s home, the quieter she got. That also made me a little uneasy, but for a completely different reason. When a kid is that apprehensive about going home, there’s usually a reason for it.

At least it gave me something to focus on other than my own feelings. I needed that.

I kept a surreptitious eye on Sara as we got closer and closer to her home. She seemed to pull in on herself, almost physically. Her face started to take on that same look of defeat that I’d seen on her mother’s face earlier in the day. Something wasn’t right.

I tried to lighten the mood a little. “Sara, do you think your parents would let you have a sleepover with Janelle tomorrow night? The two of you could stay with me for the night, and I can bring you both to school on Monday morning.”

Sara looked at me in the mirror, a look of stunned surprise on her wan little face.

“Oh, that would be awesome!” piped up Janelle. “You think they would, Sara? We could have a blast at Aunt Meagan’s house. She’s got two snakes!”

“I can ask my Mom,” she said, a shy smile on her face again.

“Why don’t we just ask your Dad when we get to your house?” I asked.

The smile vanished. “Uhm, no, it’s better if I ask my Mom,” she said quietly.

Yup, I thought. Definitely something not right here.

“Would you like me to call her at work and ask her?” I said.

“No, you can’t call her at work or she’ll get in trouble,” said Sara. “But you could call her at home tomorrow, if you want to.”

“Okay, I’ll do that,” I said. “Is it okay to call early?”

Sara nodded. “Mom’s always up early,” she said quietly.

We were turning into Sara’s driveway now, a long, winding unpaved strip of dirt that led to a rundown old farmhouse set back from the road. It wasn’t a bad looking place, but it could use a little TLC.

I pulled up in front of the house and parked the Chevy. Janelle and Sara got out of the rear seat. Janelle was murmuring to Sara, but I couldn’t hear her. I got out and joined them just as Sara was turning away to walk up the porch steps.

“Bye, Sara! Thanks for coming to my party!” Janelle said.

“I’ll call your Mom in the morning, Sara. Thanks for coming!” I said.

Sara lifted one hand in a wave, without turning around. Her head hung down now, her shoulders were hunched forward. That one word kept knocking around in my mind. Defeat. The little girl walked like she was completely defeated.

Janelle sat in front with me on the return trip. I gave it a couple of minutes before I started to question her.

“Sweetie, do you know anything about Sara?” I asked.

She looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, do you know anything about what it’s like for her at home? Does she have brothers or sisters? Do you know where she lived before she came here?”

“I don’t think she has any brothers or sisters,” said Janelle. “If she does they’re not in school yet. And I only started talking to her yesterday, so I don’t know anything about home or where she’s from. And she doesn’t really talk to anybody at school, so I don’t know. Why?”

“Just curious,” I said. “I know she’s not from around here, or I’d know her parents.”

Janelle was silent for a few minutes. “She always seems so sad, Aunt Meagan,” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” I said. “I kind of thought that, too.”

We were quiet the rest of the way home. When we got to my sister’s, Janelle unbuckled her seat belt and opened her door. Before she got out, she stopped for a moment.

“Thanks again for my boa, Aunt Meagan,” she said, smiling. “She’s just too awesome for words.”

“You’re welcome, Sweetie. I know you’ll take good care of her; that’s the main reason I went ahead and got her for you.”

She nodded soberly. “I will, I promise.”

“Fill your Mom in about the sleepover idea, okay? And ask her to call me a little later on.”

“‘Kay, I will,” she said. “That would be so cool if Sara can come.”

“Well, why don’t you plan to stay over either way. Hopefully Sara will be able to come, but if not, you and I can still have a sleepover.”

She grinned happily. “‘Kay. Bye, Aunt Meagan. Thanks again!”

Maybe Sara won’t be able to come, I mused. I immediately slammed a lid on that thought.

Janelle jumped out of the Chevy, slammed the door, and ran to the house. I waited until she went in the door, then pulled out and headed for home.

I deliberately and very forcefully kept my thoughts occupied with things other than Janelle when I got home. I was beginning to be very afraid of what I was feeling.

When the phone rang, I jumped. I’d been involved with some tricky vector graphics on the computer, and it startled me. I checked the caller ID. It was Kate.

“Hey, little sister,” I said, by way of greeting.

“Hi, Meagan. What’s up? Janelle said you wanted me to call?”

“Yeah. Did she tell you about the sleepover idea?”

Kate snorted. “What do you think?” she said. “She’s upstairs packing some things now.”

I laughed. “Okay, great.” I said. “That’s not the main reason I wanted to talk to you, though.”

“What’s up?” she asked.

“I don’t really know,” I said. “Did you happen to notice anything odd about little Sara today? Sara with no “H” I mean.”

“Only that she seems to be really quiet and shy. Why?”

I described how Sara had changed as we got closer to her home, and the way she had looked as she was going into the house. I also made mention of her quick refusal to have me ask her father about a sleepover.

Kate was silent for a minute. “That does sound kind of odd,” she said quietly. “What are you thinking?”

“That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t know exactly what I’m thinking. But if her mother lets her come over here to spend the night tomorrow, I’m going to see what I can find out. Something just isn’t right there.”

“Okay, well, don’t go jumping to any conclusions too fast,” she said. “She might just be really shy. But keep me posted, okay?”

“I will,” I said. “You want me to pick Janelle up tomorrow, or do you want to bring her over?”

“Uhm… if you’re offering to come and get her, I won’t refuse.”

“You got it,” I said. “Tell her I’ll be there at about ten o’clock.”

“Okay,” she replied. “And Meagan, thank you. I don’t really like the idea of that thing being in my house, but you made Janelle very happy today. She’s thrilled to death with that hideous creature.”

“Hey! She’s not hideous! She’s beautiful.” I paused, then, “Did she tell you what she named her?”

I heard a deep sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I know. She named it after Super Aunt.”

“Her, Kate. She’s a her, not an it.”

“No, it is a snake. There’s nothing female about it.”

This was fun. I do love to get under Kate’s skin. “Fine. You go right ahead and refer to my namesake as an it.” I was trying to feign hurt feelings.

Kate wasn’t buying it. She snorted again. “You’re the only person I know who would be flattered at the thought of someone naming a snake after you.”

“A beautiful snake,” I said, “Who was given a beautiful name, in honor of Janelle’s beautiful aunt.”

“Whatever.”

I snickered. “Bye, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You will if that creature doesn’t kill me in my sleep,” she said.

“Bye, Kate.”

“Night, Meagan.”

I hung up the phone. Now, though, Janelle was at the front of my thoughts. Damn it!

I sighed heavily. I did not want to examine these feelings that I was only now becoming aware of. Feelings about Janelle. Frankly, they scared the crap out of me.

I took my evening shower, brushed my teeth, and got ready to relax for a while. Maybe a good movie will take my mind off things, I thought. Something I’ve seen a thousand times, one that I adore.

I decided to watch Casablanca, and just be a vegetable.

The tactic worked, at least for the length of the film. While I watched it, I indulged myself and had three glasses of a very nice Merlot. By the time the movie ended, I had nice little glowy feeling; I turned off the television, put my wineglass in the sink, and headed up to bed.

So much for good intentions.

I’ll spare you most of the gory details. I’m sure that you really aren’t interested in a play-by-play of my nightly autoerotic activities. I will tell you why I found myself tossing and turning for the rest of the night, even after another mind-numbing orgasm, followed by a second smaller, but no less satisfying second one.

Physically satisfying, at any rate. They left my thoughts in a state of utter turmoil.

I had reached the point where I was clawing hungrily towards that first orgasm, the purple vibrator buried deep within the hot, wet depths of my pussy. My left hand was doing double duty, fingers working the vibrator in and out of my clutching, spasming sex, the heel of one hand pressing down on my clit, sending repeated shocks through my body. My right hand had slipped beneath my ass, also doing double duty. It was helping to support my weight as I held my hips high off the bed; the index finger was probing and teasing at my rosebud. As it slid finally through the dark anal ring, I moaned, and felt the orgasm begin to pour through me.

That’s when it happened. Yup, you guessed it.

In my mind, I had a picture of Janelle sitting “Indian-style,” stark naked, on the bed between my widespread legs. She was watching avidly as my hands feverishly worked at my pussy and ass. As I began to moan my way into orgasm, she looked up at me, a beautiful smile on her face.

I heard her little voice in my mind, breathy and full of wonder. “Are you coming, Aunt Meagan? Is this what happens when you come?”

Even with the shock that slammed into me at such a mental image, the orgasm tore its way into my soul.

I’m not normally a screamer; I’ll moan and groan endlessly, but it takes a lot to make me literally scream. This was one of those rare occasions.

Thank the Goddess that I don’t live in an apartment. The neighbors would have thought I was being murdered.

It lasted for what seemed an eternity. Through the bright, exploding little pinpoints of silver light that peppered the backs of my eyelids floated that mental image of Janelle, naked, sitting between my obscenely splayed legs. I saw a look of sheer delight on her face as she chattered away at me in my mind.

“You’re doing it, Aunt Meagan! You’re coming! Oh my God, Aunt Meagan, it’s so awesome! I wanna do it, too, Aunt Meagan, I wanna come, too! Can I come, too, please?”

Finally, blessedly, she fell silent. Her image remained, though, smiling fondly at me as I slid down the back side of my orgasm, my body twitching and shuddering, then finally collapsing to the mattress.

I was afraid to open my eyes, fearing that I might find her sitting there between my knees. Please don’t be there, Janelle, I thought desperately.

I let my eyes open slowly, heaving an enormous sigh of relief when I found myself alone. It was the first time, I think, that I’ve ever actually been grateful for being alone in my bed.

Sighing again, I slid the purple vibrator from my pussy. Automatically, it came to my mouth, where I cleaned all traces of my wetness from it. I put it to the side, and my hand drifted back to my mons. Without any conscious thought on my part, my hands continued to explore and caress, my body slowly coming down from the orgasm.

I couldn’t get the image of Janelle out of my mind. Not remembered images, but the fantasy image that my perverted, twisted mind had conjured up. The image of my nine-year-old niece, sitting naked between my legs, smiling as she excitedly urged me on into my orgasm, begging me to let her experience her own.

What the hell is wrong with you, Meagan?

Even as the question snarled through my mind, though, that image of Janelle stayed in place. Without any warning, I was suddenly on the verge of another orgasm. Not as intense this time, but an orgasm nonetheless.

As I plunged three fingers into my slick pussy, I heard myself babbling and moaning. Not just thinking the words this time, but actually speaking them.

“Oh God, Janelle, sweetie… I want to come for you, baby… come with me, sweet girl… come with Aunt Meagan, baby…”

The words kept coming as the climax rolled and twisted on an unstoppable course through my body and my mind. I was at once more aroused and yet more dismayed and angry with myself than I can ever remember being in my life. But I couldn’t stop it.

Finally, the orgasm burned itself out. I snatched my hands from between my legs and rolled myself into the covers on my bed, grinding my face down into the pillow. I was sobbing, gut-wrenching gulps of air. There were tears soaking into my pillow.

Eventually, the sobbing subsided. The tears did not. I fell into a troubled sleep, tossing and turning, waking frequently throughout the night. My dreams consisted of half-remembered news reports concerning child molesters, pedophiles, child pornographers.

I woke in the morning, exhausted and cranky. I got out of bed, pulled on my robe, and went to make coffee. When it was done, I sat on the couch, sipping coffee, trying to make sense of what had happened the night before. I glanced at the two glass terrariums that hold my lovely boa constrictors.

Ellie and Nellie seemed to be glaring at me. Logically, I know that snakes have very poor vision, and if they could see me at all from that distance, I was nothing but a shapeless blur to them. Nonetheless, I swore I could read accusation and disgust in their faces. I can’t say that I blamed them.

What the hell have I become?

Continue on to Chapter 3