Melissa Bonaventure's bedroom, Missouri
17 years ago
"Mom," Rhiannon began as she knocked and entered, "I'm looking for -" Then it penetrated her five-year-old mind what she was looking at. Her mother was in bed, clearly naked as her clothes were scattered about the room. That wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that there was another set of clothes with them. There were two bras. Two pairs of panties, one unfamiliar...and, she could see, damp.
With shock she recognised the pencil skirt and the sleeveless top. Both belonged to Miss Walker.
And Miss Walker was...in Mom's bed. With Mom.
"Um...Mom, what...what are you doing with Miss Walker?"
Her Mom smiled gently. "There are all kinds of answers to that, sweetheart. But I'll give you the honest one: we've been fucking." She took Miss Walker's face in her hands and - kissed her.
Not only that, but Miss Walker was kissing her back! Rhiannon could see their tongues moving - each had her tongue in the other's mouth!
"Mom -!" she gasped.
They gently broke the kiss, and Mom fondled Miss Walker's exposed breast (her bra's on the floor!). "Darling, I have a confession to make: I am what we call bisexual. That means I have sex with men, like your Dad, and women like Priscilla here. But I'm not cheating on your Dad. For one thing I wouldn't, because I love him, and for another he already knows about this." She chuckled. "In fact he's probably getting it on with that young waitress at Andy's Diner, the one who looks like a younger version of me.
"We have an open marriage. That means I can do whatever I like with whomever I like, and he has the same freedom. It's not cheating if he knows about it. We love and trust each other, and each of us is what we call first among equals. The only caveats are him knocking anyone up, and me getting pregnant by any man but him. I do both men and women; he definitely does women, and I think he's had one or two guys. I must get around to asking him.
"Doubtless you're worried about Priscilla, Miss Walker, being your teacher, as she would have a duty of care - hey, you're learning a lot of new phrases here - towards you. But she's qualified at a different school, so she isn't your teacher any more. Thus no duty of care. Thus I can happily fuck her." Mom licked her lips. "And I have. Ooh, she's tasty."
"You are the most delicious older woman I've ever fucked," Priscilla purred. "I'm tempted to describe you as a MILF."
"Hey, you do and I'll spank you," Melissa warned archly.
Now Miss Walker licked her lips coyly. "Is that a promise? I'd like to try spanking." Rhiannon's jaw dropped. She chuckled in amusement. "Between women, spanking isn't a punishment, dear. It's a pleasure. And a MILF is a Mother I'd Like to Fuck. M - I - L - F, see? Please don't be shocked, sweetheart, you've always known your Mom is uninhibited. After all, she showed you how to masturbate two years ago, didn't she?"
"'I've got a clitoris', remember?" her Mom put in. "That was the start of our lesbian affair. I met her for a coffee to apologise, we became friends, and one thing led to another. I'm bi and she's a lesbian. Do you know what that means? Don't be shy."
"Um...she's Greek? From Lesbos?"
They both laughed kindly. "An ancient poet, Sappho of Lesbos, was enamoured of young girls; that's where the word 'lesbian' comes from. But no, I'm from Vancouver originally," Miss Walker told her. "No, a lesbian is a woman who likes other women instead of men."
"Oh. I...I know about men and sex, I know how they...do it, Mom showed me a video -"
"Naughty, naughty, showing porn to your daughter," Priscilla teased.
"Illegal, yes, but purely educational," Melissa quipped, remembering...
Melissa's living room, after Rhiannon has gone to bed
The previous year
Andrew, her husband, frowned about it, but Melissa insisted, saying that sex education should start ASAP - and even at the age of four (which Rhiannon was at the time), it was vital that she know what went where and the difference between porn and real sex, as she would see porn for herself sooner or later...probably sooner. Melissa wished her Mom had told her about porn, then Hustler wouldn't have come as such a shock when she was 13 and a friend excitedly passed a copy around at a sleepover.
(She'd objected, 'We're too young to read this!' and a girlfriend of the same age had laughed, 'Yeah, that's what makes it so exciting! Girls, I swear, I'm either wettin' myself or I'm gettin' wet!')
He protested mildly, "She might not understand what she's seeing."
"It doesn't matter," Melissa asserted. "If we show her porn, she is a) in a safe environment she knows and trusts, and b) experiencing it in the company of two people who love her and would kill or die for her. If nothing else it gives her a stable platform. Anything she doesn't understand we can and will explain. Okay?" As he still hesitated, her voice rose. "Okay?"
"Um...okay. Should we be naked for this?"
Melissa nodded. "Good idea. She should see real people who have had real sex. In fact," she added coyly, "would you be up for showing Rhiannon what real sex is all about?"
"What - do it in front of our daughter?" Andrew gaped. "Wasn't there a study saying it's harmful for kids to see their parents at it?"
Melissa snorted disparagingly. "Yeah, what the fuck do they know about teaching kids? I don't agree. Sex is a natural, normal, healthy part of life. She'll catch us at it one day, however careful we are. Plus, whether we like it or not, sooner or later Rhiannon will be spreading her legs." Her voice turned soft and gentle. "So where's the harm in showing her two people loving and trusting each other? How is witnessing love harmful, huh?"
He kissed her, convinced. "You're right. It won't hurt her."
It didn't. Confused her a little, yeah. Concerned her a little from the sounds Mom was making, yeah, until they gently explained that these were sounds of pleasure, not pain.
Excited her just a bit, definitely.
Rhiannon promised not to tell anyone, purely to spare their blushes (Mom explained). She asked shyly, "Um...can...can I do that?"
Her parents glanced at each other. Then Dad told her gently, "Sweetheart, the urge to do it will only come when you're older. Right now it won't work for you no matter who you do it with...plus," he added wryly, "your Mom and I might end up in jail. We aren't that concerned about the legal aspects, just about protecting you. When you're older - say about eleven or so, it varies - you can try it with someone you care about and we'll support you."
"It's very important for you to care about them, Rhiannon," her Mom put in. "Sex is a lot of fun, a pleasure, and a way for two people to show how much they care about each other. But there is a thing called the age of consent. It's a well-meaning law meant to protect you and other kids. But it's a one-size-fits-all policy. A girl might be ready when she's only eight, or totally unready when she's 20 or more. It varies as people do. So it's a good guideline, but that's all it is."
"Am I too young?"
Melissa nodded. "Legally, yes; in this state it's 17."
"In this state?" Rhiannon repeated, puzzled.
Her Mom nodded again. "In New Jersey it's 18. In Mississippi it's 16. But in Connecticut, in certain circumstances, it's 13 - say, if the guy is 15 or less. Confusing, isn't it? Different countries have different laws, too. In Bahrain you have to be 21 and married. In Nigeria it's only 11." She chuckled. "I remember a boy at school from Lagos who got into trouble when he had a girl of 12 - no-one had told him you had to be 17 here, he honestly thought it was okay." She sobered. "But, darling, Heinlein was right."
"How do you mean?" She'd read Space Family Stone, and thus recognised the author.
"He said that a girl is old enough for sex when she decides she is. I agree. She might be wrong, often she is, but in the end it's her body, her cunt, so it's her choice...or it should be. I honestly don't care when you do it, sweetheart, the age of consent be damned. All that matters to me is that you be safe; that ideally you don't get caught; that you do it with someone important to you; and that you don't catch anything, whether it's an STI or a baby. Beyond that, anything goes."
"Parents are supposed to approve or disapprove of a bed partner," Andrew told her, "but I don't see that it's anyone's business but yours and your partner's, as long as you don't get hurt or pregnant. More than anything, honey, we want you to be happy. That's our job as parents, not to tell you who you can or can't have sex with. If you're happy, we're happy."
She burst into tears, touched beyond measure, and hugged them both. "I love you. I love you so much."
"We love you, too," Mom gently assured her, "and each other." She glanced at Andrew. "Is now a good time to tell her?"
"Tell me what?"
"We've decided we love each other and you so much that we want to express that love in the form of a child," Melissa informed her. "That's why we didn't take precautions. Your Dad is going to make a new baby inside me, the same way we made you," she smiled. "With, as Heinlein put it, little moans of happiness between two people who know what they're doing and want to do it. We just wanted you to know. Is that okay?"
"You're...having a baby?"
"We hope so, sweetheart," Melissa smiled on hearing Rhiannon's hearty approval.
Rhiannon cried happy once again and ecstatically nodded, hugging them again. Nine months later she witnessed the birth of her little brother Arnold.
"- but...how do two women do it?" Rhiannon wondered now.
"Remember what I told you about the clitoris?" her Mom asked.
"Yes." Even at five, Rhiannon didn't blush.
"Each of us stimulates the other's clit by touching and licking it. Or one can strap on a dildo - that's an appliance shaped like a cock - and fuck the other the way a man would. You should try it sometime when you're older."
"Um...okay." Rhiannon paused. "Is...is it okay if two women kiss?"
Miss Walker chuckled. "It'd better be, the way your Mom kisses me. I know her tongue as well as she knows mine."
"Is it okay if...if I kiss a girl?"
Melissa too chuckled. "Be prepared for some shocked looks if you do, sweetheart. But yes, it's okay. You're too young yet to make that choice, but if you later turn out to be a lesbian I'll still love you. I'll always love you, Rhiannon." It was said lightly, but her eyes were sincere, and Rhiannon knew beyond question that it was true. She felt a rush of love for her Mom.
Priscilla smiled gently. "Now that is a very healthy attitude to take. You're very lucky, Rhiannon. Your Mom is progressive and uninhibited." She grinned. "And a lot of fun in bed."
All three laughed, and Rhiannon hugged them affectionately.
Oak Grove Elementary, Missouri
The next day
Teachers and pupils alike were shocked when Rhiannon kissed Penelope Travers full on the lips. To the myriad shocked stares she just said simply, "Mom said it was okay."
There was more than a bit of fuss, but a progressive teacher pointed out, "You can't discriminate these days. And it's not as if it's against the law for one girl to kiss another, is it? It's just innocent at her age, it doesn't mean a thing." She smiled at Rhiannon. "Does it, honey?"
"No," Rhiannon answered, and that was that.
Except an hour later Penelope approached Rhiannon and murmured, "Did your Mom really say it was okay? Kissing another girl?"
"Yeah. In fact...can you keep a secret?"
"Sure."
"I saw Mom kissing a lady who used to be my teacher. And they were doing more than just kissing."
"Were they...doing stuff? With their...thing?"
Rhiannon chuckled. "It's called a clitoris. And yes, they were."
"I touched mine once," Penelope revealed. "It...tingled. It felt nice, though."
As the voice of experience, Rhiannon told her, "Yeah, Mom taught me that it's meant to."
"Wow," Penelope breathed. "Have you ever kissed a girl before?"
"No. You?"
The girl shook her head. "No. But…"
"Yes?"
Penelope blushed. She was very pretty. "Would you...kiss me again? People looked at us kinda weird, but...I...I...liked you kissing me."
Rhiannon smiled slowly.
It was perhaps the first time anyone had ever seen two 5-year-old girls engaged in a French kiss. A teacher almost said something, but refrained. She was mildly repulsed and quite fascinated in equal measure. For girls to kiss boys at their age was rare, but…
The little girls were clearly being affectionate; each was stroking the other's back.
"That's gross," a boy opined in disgust.
No, it's not, the teacher thought tenderly, it's strangely...beautiful. Two little girls kissing without a care in the world. They slowly broke the kiss, stroked each other's hair and smiled at each other. The brunette was a little shorter.
"Hi," the strawberry blonde said, "I'm Rhiannon."
Miss Makin's jaw dropped as she realised the two didn't even know each other yet!
"That's a funny name," the brunette smiled. "What's it mean?"
"My Mom says she was a Celtic goddess of the Otherworld, had a lot to do with horses. I was named after her because of my hair. What's your name?"
"Penelope," the brunette pixie answered. "She was in Homer's Odyssey, the Queen of Ithaca."
"Are you a queen?" Rhiannon asked, curious.
"No," Penelope chuckled. "She was in that really old puppet series, too: Thunderbirds. My Granddad on my Mom's side showed me. She was a British secret agent and had a Rolls Royce." She looked impish. "A pink one!"
"And I'm not Celtic, and I don't own a horse. Doesn't matter," Rhiannon smiled. From that point on they were friends (and, five years later, lovers).
The head teacher and Penelope's mother approached Melissa, but she asked brusquely, "Would you rather they'd had a cigarette? Or a drink? Or done drugs?"
"No, of course not!" the head gasped in shock.
"Then where's the harm? So one little girl kissed another. Not the end of the world, is it?" She addressed Anne Travers. "Anne, do you love Penelope?"
"What kind of question is that?!"
"A serious one. Do you?"
Anne sobered. "Yes. Yes, I do, very much. She's my world."
"So is Rhiannon to me. Now, they're only 5, so they've plenty of time to decide, but would you love Penelope any less if she turned out to be a lesbian?"
Anne remembered that she had once kissed a girl years ago, and had even fondled her breast and bottom. Thus she answered firmly, "No. Not at all. Penelope is my daughter, no matter what. I love her. I always have and always will. Her kissing another girl is unusual, but it's not illegal. She wasn't hurt. If anything, she was happy - Rhiannon is a nice girl and she's a good friend to Penelope. She's welcome to visit any time, Melissa."
"Same here," Melissa applauded. "Who they fuck - or in this case, kiss - doesn't change who they are. It doesn't change our responsibility to them, or our love for them. I would lie, cheat, steal, prostitute myself, fuck a dog, die, even kill for my daughter. If she needed a new heart and mine was the only compatible one, I would not hesitate. I would give her my heart. So if, in years to come, she introduces a girl to me and says, 'Mom, this is my girlfriend', I'll take it in my stride."
Anne smiled, conceding her point. "So will I."
Both proved it years later when each daughter went through a phase and brought a girlfriend home. In fact Rhiannon later brought Penelope home, remembered their past and French kissed Penelope. Melissa smiled. "Feel free to fuck her, darling, you're older now."
She did.
"Did - did you...?"
Rhiannon smiled gently. "C'mon, we're all adults here. You can say it, girlfriend. Did I...masturbate, even though I was only 3? Bring myself off? Achieve orgasm? Ohhh, yeah. I came so hard, and I was crying happy when I told my Mom and hugged her, I was so grateful. It was terrific. Kinsey would've loved me - he mentioned a girl of 3 whose Mom saw her bringing herself off. Dirty bitch, watching her own daughter wanking."
"This," Tom quipped, "from a girl whose Mom helped her find her own clit."
"Well, who was supposed to show me, my Dad?" Rhiannon retorted. "He didn't find out till I was three where Mom's clit was!"
They all laughed.
"I spent the next seven years touching myself and other girls, frigging myself silly, and letting girls and boys touch me. Doctors & Nurses was my favourite game. Then when I was 10 an older boy, 'bout 14, I think, said he wanted to show me an even better game, so I said okay. Next thing I knew we were naked. He had a massive cock, the biggest I'd ever seen. Couldn't resist fondling it an' kissing it."
Tom joked, "Kryten said in Red Dwarf, 'It's hideous!'"
"I know," Rhiannon nodded, "but I don't agree. I think they're beautiful, especially erect. Simon's was, anyway."
Fascinated (and a little aroused), Yvonne inquired, "What happened?"
"He screwed me," Rhiannon said simply. "I loved it. I got so wet from what he was doing to me - mainly eating me out - that it didn't hurt at all, even though he was huge and I bled a bit. Luckily I hadn't started puberty yet, so I didn't get pregnant, but he told me afterwards that that was what Mom did to get me, and what his Mom had done to get him. Oh, I was so happy. I told Mom, and she hugged me, asked if I'd been a willing partner - she explained about rape - and told me about contraception and STIs."
"Wasn't she mad because you were underage?" an intrigued Tom asked.
Rhiannon smiled. "I thought she might be at first, but Mom was a realist - she said, 'Honey, kids do what they do. Sometimes they find out early just how good sex is, and it is, and they don't care about the legal stuff. They just know it feels good, and anything which feels so good really can't be wrong. I was the same,' she confided, 'I was only eight when I popped my cherry. So even if I wanted to I can't condemn you.' Then she hugged me real tight and said, 'You've done nothing wrong, and I'm proud of you, sweetheart.'"
"Aw," Yvonne said endearingly, "your Mom was so understanding."
"Not like mine," Mike noted, "she was shocked when I told her at age eleven that I'd brought myself off, and demanded to know what the hell I thought I was doing."
Rhiannon teased him by stroking him between his legs - as usual he didn't react, except by smiling - and quipped, "You should've said 'I think I've been wanking, that's what I've been doing'!"
They all laughed. Marie requested, "Go on, Rhiannon. What happened next?"
"You turned on?" Rhiannon purred saucily.
"A little, yeah," Marie admitted.
"She took me to the doctor; Dr. Page examined me, told me I was clean and that from now on I should take precautions, such as condoms. I was a bit naïve - I asked her how she knew I was gonna carry on screwing. She gave me a really gentle smile, asked if I'd enjoyed it, I admitted I had, and she said, ‛Honey, if there's one thing any parent knows about kids - I have three - it's that if they they do something and they like it, they'll carry on doing it even if their parents say they can't or shouldn't.
"'Legally you're way too young' - I was born in Missouri, the age of consent is 17 - ‛but in my experience kids don't give a fuck about ages of consent if they enjoy the sex, even anal sex - that's with his cock up her butt instead of up her slit,' she explained readily.
"I was curious, and I was enjoying talking about sex, so I asked, ‛Do girls do that?' She corrected me, ‛Women, and yes, they do. I do, if I really trust the guy. So go for it, sweetheart, and only tell your Mom and any close-mouthed friends.' So that," she grinned, "was the start of my career as a fully paid-up, unashamed randy - bisexual - slut!"
A mesmerised Mike asked, "Did you find out about girls at the same time?"
Rhiannon chuckled. "Yeah - by getting felt up in the showers from behind by a bi bitch! We were the last two there, and while I was getting clean she slid one hand between my legs and the other onto my left tit - I'd started puberty and I got 'em overnight - and she squeezed my nipple. I was so surprised; I asked her, ‛The fuck are you doing?' She touched my clit, and, oh, God, my knees went wobbly. She squeezed my nipple again, nuzzled my neck and whispered in my ear, ‛Do you know how to fuck a girl?'"
"How'd you respond?" Mike teased.
"I got wet," Rhiannon confided simply. "Her voice had this delicious purr that went straight to my nipples and my clit. She sounded so fucking sexy. She felt my wetness and she purred, ‛Oh, you like this, don't you?' My knees were really weak. I admitted that I did, a lot. She kissed me, slid her tongue all the way into my mouth. It was the dirtiest kiss I'd ever had. My nipples were like bullets, and I kissed her back, a really wet an' dirty French kiss. It was so sloppy she was licking my spit off her lips before she kissed me again."
"This is one sexy story," Tom grinned, "I have to admit I have a major hard-on."
"Even I'm a little bit excited," Mike confessed, and they both swatted him, chuckling. They occasionally teased him about being gay, Rhiannon flashing him with her breasts and/or panties...or, once, her bare unshaven pussy, when she went commando à la Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct (seeing his lack of reaction, she conceded, laughing, "Okay, if my bare sexy naked cunt does nothing for you, then you have to be queer! Any guy who wasn't would be up me by now!").
"Typical guy," Rhiannon teased Tom, "gettin' off on two girls kissing and/or doin' it."
"Busted," he chuckled good-naturedly; both knew full well how intimate and erotic lesbian sex could be, and that was why it was a fantasy favoured by both sexes. "So did you know how to do a girl?"
"I did, yeah, from what Mom told me when I found her and the teacher in bed. I said so and admitted I'd never actually done it. She gave me a really dirty grin, bit my earlobe and said, ‛Good, I'll have fun teaching you!' Ooh, I was creaming myself when we were licking each other, and she loved the smell and the taste of it. When our teacher realised half an hour later that we hadn't come out, she came in, and she was so shocked to find us naked in a 69, with Sally - my lezzie lover - on top and me coming from being licked out!
"She tried to tell Sally off - seems I wasn't the first girl she'd caught Sally with - but Sally finished me off, I screamed with pleasure and she grinned and said, ‛See, she loves it!' And I did, too!"
"How did she know what to do?" Mike wondered.
Rhiannon shrugged. "This might sound really dirty, but her brother popped her cherry - he was drunk one night, got the wrong room and thought Sally was his girlfriend, so he screwed her." She grinned. "You'll note that Sally did nothing to correct his mistake - not until the following morning...when his girlfriend came in and found them naked in bed together, and she was only nine!"
"I bet that was a super-embarrassing conversation," Marie quipped. Sally must've entered puberty early, she thought; at the age of nine Marie had been flat as a board, her puberty only starting when she was 11¾. But a growth spurt a year later gave her B-cups, remarkable for a girl of 12¾...which, coupled with her scent, had gotten her Dad interested in her one evening when he was drunk -
No. Don't think about that.
Rhiannon laughed again. "Yeah, but Wilma saw the funny side of it."
Sally Hill's bedroom, Missouri
12:43 a.m., 11 years ago
Sally liked to sleep naked; sometimes at this time of year Missouri was very hot. She was awakened by the sound of someone undressing. Then, to her shock, that someone got into bed with her. She was paralysed. Not with fear; she knew it wouldn't be anyone hostile - her Dad's huge Alsatian, Max, would have dealt with any intruder. He was trained to hold - and, if absolutely necessary, to kill. Dad took his family's security and safety very seriously, hence Max. He was a pet and a fiercely devoted protector.
One time he'd earned his keep and proven his worth beyond question. A would-be burglar was startled by a low growl in the dark, and two bright blue eyes glaring at him. When the police arrived he was still paralysed with fear, Max still growling until the cops took the guy away. This was on a Monday morning; for the rest of the week Max received endless praise and ate like a doggy king: prime steaks, lots of doggie treats and ham on the bone. "He's worth every penny," Dad said proudly, ruffling Max's fur, "the best money we ever spent. Good boy, Max!"
A voice Sally recognised as her brother David murmured, "Wilma." He kissed her, but far more deeply than her brother ever had; she was stunned to realise the kiss was French - God, each person's tongue was in the other's mouth. She could taste the whisky on his breath, and she knew he was drunk. And now he was squeezing her breasts, and playing with her right nipple! In shock she began, "David -!"
Then, abruptly, she felt his - naked! - body between her legs. And not just his body - she could feel his penis! Whoa, was he entering her?! Wait, she cried mentally, this is incest, what the fuck am I doing?!
This was, she knew, really too quick, a guy should take his time with a girl, stoke the fire, as it were. So much she'd learned from her Mom.
But then she realised something else: his penis in her vulva, her vagina, felt...
God help her, it felt good. It was so long it was bumping against her cervix every time he thrust into her, and she could feel her womb contracting each time. It was thrilling.
Mom, bless her, had given her a really frank talk about love and sex when she was just eight, because "Sometimes that's when women in my family start having periods". She'd told her about, among other things, a girl's sexual secretions such as lubricant and cream...both of which, Sally knew, she could feel starting.
"Often they start whether you want them to or not," she'd told Sally, "but your body doesn't know the difference between sex and rape. It's said that most sex happens in the head, but that isn't always true. Some women have even climaxed during rape, but there are some men who really don't get that this does NOT mean she liked it. Thankfully the law's caught up with this, so a rapist can't bleat 'But she came, so she must have liked it!'. No, her body has only responded to the sex, as it naturally does. It's part of why rapes too often don't get reported."
"Because the victim feels...ashamed...that she came despite being violated?" Sally had ventured.
"That's right," her Mom had said solemnly. "Secreting sex juices and even sex cream does not mean she's enjoying it. Not always."
But, Sally knew full well, she was definitely enjoying this, she'd never been so wet...!
Then again, her Mom had said that sometimes, for a few women, going slow wasn't always necessary. A few were on a hair trigger, needing only a mild initial stimulus to get things going.
She knew instantly that she was one. She'd been aroused the moment David had kissed, fondled and entered her. Her slit was already soaking wet, his entry hadn't hurt her at all. It should have, it usually would with a girl her age, but her sex juices were definitely doing their job of lubricating her. Mom had joked that a woman's sex juices were the best known lubricant.
This was no joke. She was so wet, so lubricated, that she was feeling no pain whatsoever...only intense pleasure.
Suddenly she realised she didn't want to stop. She knew why it was happening: in his drunken state, poor David had accidentally gone into the wrong room, and thought she was Wilma, his girlfriend. It was an honest mistake.
So why am I taking advantage? And I am, I know I am. Lord help me, I - I want this. I want him. Want his beautiful long cock. Oh, God, you beautiful guy, take me, fuck me, fuck me hard, never mind that I'm your sister and I'm taking advantage of your mistake! I am LOVING this! I am SO wet, I am SOAKING, God, I'm already leaving a wet patch, it's actually exciting lying in it! I smell of sweat, of sex juices, of my own sex cream! God, Mom never told me sex was THIS exciting!
He was panting now, thrusting harder, and she was ecstatic, taking it with intense pleasure. She was pressing her body against his as hard as he was pressing his against hers. Sally's heart was beating like a jack-hammer, her blood roaring through her veins. She felt hot all over, sweaty; her armpits were dripping with sweat. She felt as if she was getting high (an older cousin had once described getting high on weed, and this felt just the way he'd described).
Oh, my own brother has popped my cherry! Taken my virginity! Made me a woman! Fiona Banks told me it would hurt, but it didn't, not at all, but that's because I was and am so wet! Is there blood between my legs? Yeah, I can feel a little, but FUCK, who the fuck CARES when it feels SO FUCKING GOOD?! FUCK ME, DAVID! SCREW ME! SHAG ME! TAKE ME!
Sally spread her legs wide to take as much of his length as she could, and it slid deliciously deeper into her. She clutched him to her. Sally knew perfectly well that she should not be doing this, there were good reasons why not...but as a new wave of wanton pleasure rippled through her, she no longer cared. More excited than she'd ever been, her entire body on fire as her orgasm began peaking, Sally wanted it, wanted him.
Oh, God, yes. Yes! YES! I'M FUCKING COMING! Oh, this is better than frigging, WAY better!
She was overjoyed as he spurted into her, as Mom had told her would happen if a cock was inside her and she didn't use a condom. His stream of spunk felt hot, sticky - and delightful, shooting like a rifle deep into her soaking wet vagina. A small part of her was grateful that her periods hadn't started yet, so there was no way she could get pregnant. Helen Ward had done that and had had to drop out of school.
Her parents had offered her an abortion, but she'd thought at first that this just meant the baby would be taken away. But when her Dad gently explained exactly what an abortion was, Helen was horrified at the idea of killing a baby, especially an unborn one, and flatly refused despite all their advice. So dropping out of school was her only option, because a baby was a full-time occupation.
Not for me, Sally thought. She wasn't the maternal type, and a baby with David was out of the question because they were siblings.
It's a moot point anyway! Don't think about that! Think about the huge cock spurting deep into you!
Crying out in utter ecstasy, her arms and legs wrapped tightly around her beloved brother, she came. She'd never felt anything remotely like it in all her nine years of age. It was glorious. She didn't want it to stop.
Both were panting hard and sweating, though David still wasn't aware enough to realise he'd screwed his sister. She, however, was well aware of it...and relishing the afterglow even as she gradually came down. Her heart was still beating fast; her nipples were still hard.
Her pussy - no; to use the proper (if a little obscene) words Mom had taught Sally, her snatch, her twat, her cunt - was still soaking wet and creamy. She could feel her sex juices, her sex cream and his lovely spunk oozing out of her gaping wet cunt, and they felt so fucking delicious. They were adding to the wet patch, but she was too deliriously happy to mind.
She kissed David as he relaxed, wanting to confess her sin or just to talk to him, but as Mom had also told her could happen, he fell asleep, still up her. She sighed and accepted it. She was conflicted; she had severely broken the law on the one hand by knowingly committing incest (and so had he by fucking her, even by accident on his part), and on the other hand she had definitely had a gut-wrenching orgasm. Mom had told her about them, describing them vividly, and she'd experienced them privately - and with a girlfriend.
Jean had told Sally about lesbians - her older sister Beth was one - but said that they weren't lesbians just because they fooled around with each other, and it was perfectly normal and natural for girls to investigate their own and each other's naked bodies. "And it doesn't matter even if we are lesbians," Jean added, "our Moms will still love us and we'll still be friends. Just friends with benefits," she smiled.
"So that's what it means," Sally gasped, "friends who fuck!"
"That's right!" Jean laughed, and kissed her.
Sally wiggled, smiling, with the realisation that while solo masturbation was good, and having a friend help her come was better (and she loved feeling Jean's pussy, it felt so lovely and soft, and it tasted so sweet), this was just awesome. No wonder sex was everywhere these days, if it felt so fucking good!
As she recovered (was that the right word?) from her ecstatic orgasm, Sally knew she'd have to deal with this in the morning. She'd have to find a way of breaking it to David, and to Wilma, without upsetting them too much. She loved them both too much to keep this quiet. She owed them the truth (even if that truth was 'I illegally screwed my own brother and had my best ever orgasm with him spurting deep inside me!').
For now, though...there was what Fiona had called a ‛creampie' inside her vagina. She was happy. Puberty or not, she was a woman now.
With that contented thought, she surrendered to sleep.
Sally was awakened that morning by her bedroom door opening and a chirpy voice beginning, "Wake up, sleepyhead, I think there's still some toast if you - what? What the -?" The full, shocking sight penetrated the woman's mind.
Her boyfriend's little sister was still lying in bed, naked...and she was not alone.
As she roused fully, Sally realised with guilt that her discussion with Wilma was coming much sooner than she had planned...and her brother's girlfriend was not happy. "Um...good morning, Wilma. Or is it ‛Good afternoon' now...?"
"I fucking do not believe this," Wilma Portman growled, confronted by the reality of her lover and his little sister in bed together. Sally was pulling up the bedclothes to cover her tiny breasts, but she could not conceal the fact that she was naked - her clothes were on the bedside table, her nightie draped over a chair. David's dishevelled clothes were strewn about the floor. Ergo, both were stark bollock naked.
There was a very, very short list of reasons why they would both be naked in bed. Sally's long black hair, normally so immaculate, was all over the place. No wonder, Wilma thought furiously, if Sally did what I'm afraid she did last night! Oh, David, you twat, how COULD you?!
"If it weren't so fucking obvious, I would ask you what the fuck you are doing. You're naked, aren't you? And I can smell sex - Jesus Christ, can I smell sex! So I deduce with masterful logic, Sally Hill, that last night you had sexual intercourse with David! Don't even try to deny it, you dirty little bitch," Wilma snarled, "you screwed him! YOU SCREWED HIM, DIDN'T YOU?!"
The younger - much younger - girl sighed. "Uh, yeah. Yes, I did."
"Jesus fucking wept! Did you even take precautions? Is there a used condom lying about? Not that I want to touch it if there is, eew!"
"B - but Mom told me about puberty," Sally whispered, "and I - I haven't started my periods yet, though Mom said I'm probably due any day now. So I can't get pregnant yet."
Coldly Wilma informed her, "Oh, there are more reasons than just pregnancy to use a condom, my girl - you would not believe how many kids your age, or round about, have STIs."
Sally frowned. "What are STIs?"
Wilma looked surprised. "You don't know what -? Oh. You don't. Fair enough. An STI is a Sexually Transmitted Infection. There are several - syphilis, chlamydia, crabs, gonorrhoea. Some are just a nuisance, some can cause infertility and a few, like AIDS, can be fatal." Sally looked horrified. Wilma hastened to add, "David doesn't have any, 'cause if he had - or if I had, which I definitely do not! - I wouldn't be fucking him! So he can't give anything to you, but you could to him."
"No," Sally murmured. "Before last night I was a virgin. Um, am I right in thinking you can't have an STI if you've never had sex?" Wilma nodded. "Well, I don't have anything, then. He...he was...my first." She felt guilty on remembering what they'd done...and how good it had felt. She'd known it was wrong and even illegal, but at the time she simply hadn't cared.
"Oh. So no chance of STIs, then." Wilma exhaled. "Thank fuck. That's one less thing to worry about, at least. And you haven't had a period yet?"
"No. Not yet."
"Two less things, then - you can't get pregnant either." She looked stern. "So. Explanations. How...the fuck...did this enormous fuckup happen? How is it that you are naked in bed with your equally naked brother, having crossed the one familial line that should never, ever be crossed? And you did, Sally, I know you did, I can smell it."
To herself she thought: Fuck, it smells good. He must've given it to her good, same as he does for me - I always really enjoy spreading my legs for him and his beautiful 10-inch prick. God, I can smell her female sweat, too. I have to admit it's turning me on a bit. I mean, yeah, incest, eew, but sex is sex, and fuck if it doesn't smell good.
"I...I didn't mean to," Sally tried.
But Wilma shook her head. "Sally, you are a child, but you are old enough to know that a female does not spread her legs and accept a man's penis when she ‛didn't mean to'. Admit it, to yourself if not to me. You did mean to. You weren't raped. He didn't force you to take his cock." Then she looked uncertain. "Or did he?"
"No," Sally protested. "My brother would never do that."
Wilma sighed. "No, he wouldn't. I'm sorry I suggested it, Sally. You're right, he wouldn't - I suppose your screwing him entitles you to know something about us. We often role play, and one night when I was drunk I told him I wanted him to rape me. He flatly refused. ‛Not even for role play,' he said, ‛decent men don't ever commit rape.'
"I tried to persuade him, told him I wanted it rough - I suppose I did, for once. But he offered me an alternative: he gave me a massage to relax me, with these delicious-smelling oils, and," now she sighed in fond memory, "he made love with me more gently than he ever had. Instead of fondling me as he usually does, which, okay, is really nice, I got these really delicate strokes. He almost wasn't touching me at all. I never came so hard, not even my first time when I discovered my clit and frigged myself. God, it was heavenly."
"Good for you both," Sally smiled somehow, "I'm glad you both enjoyed it."
"Which," Wilma noted neutrally, "brings us back to you screwing your brother. God help us, you might even have enjoyed it. So did you?" She looked almost sympathetic. "Sally, please be honest, for both our sakes. Did you enjoy it?"
The younger girl looked ashamed, and refused to meet Wilma's eyes.
Reaching the only possible conclusion, Wilma exhaled again. "You did. Since I can smell pussy as well, I bet you came. Not that I blame you for that, but...Christ Almighty, Sally." She shook her head. "I very much doubt this is some sort of secret affair - there are signs when a guy does that, and I'd know. You two have never shown anything but brotherly and sisterly love and affection when I've seen you interacting. I know you love him as a brother, and I'm sure he loves you as a sister."
"He does. I do."
"So...how and why did you end up fucking him? Sally, I am calm now, I'm asking mainly for information. So please tell me."
"You do seem very calm about this," Sally said uncertainly. "Most people would freak out."
"I am," Wilma replied, "because...look, can you keep a secret? No-one else knows this, so if it ever comes out I'll know how - and I promise, you will suffer."
"Yes, I can keep a secret. I promise I will. What is it?"
"The truth is, I know for a fact that incest happens...because my sister and I went through a phase where we fancied our older brother - and we screwed him. Each of us gave him her naked body." Sally gasped. "In fact I wasn't a virgin, though I'd only had one partner up until then, but Sue was. He was really good to her, though, got her nicely wet, so it didn't hurt much. I got very wet - from the illicit thrill, I admit. I mean, doing it with our brother, can you get any more illicit than that?"
"How did you persuade him?!"
"You'd be surprised what you can talk a guy into when he's drunk," Wilma sniggered. "He liked it, though. Wasn't hard to persuade him afterwards. Just show a guy your tits or your wet slit and he'll want you."
"Oh."
"The hardest thing about incest is keeping it secret from the rest of your family. We did it with him about three or four times each, then we found out about inbreeding and we got scared, didn't want to risk it even though we used condoms, so we stopped and swore him to secrecy. But I admit, we both enjoyed it and I know he did, too." She smirked. "After that, though, there was no stopping Sue - she got laid every chance she got. Randy bitch even screwed girls, though I don't know how she found out what to do. I've done a bit of lezzie sex myself, but I prefer guys."
"Got you. Not a word, I swear," Sally vowed, and meant it.
"Sue and I both knew it was illegal, but," Wilma shrugged, "we didn't really care. Not that we fell in love with him or anything, or him with us, but it was naughty fun, as naughty as you can get. We both loved him, and he loved us, but things never got intense, we weren't ever in love. We just enjoyed it, and nothing ever came of it. TBH, if there's no outcome I really don't see that it does all that much harm. We weren't harmed, definitely. So, purely so I know, how did it happen, huh? How did you end up having incestuous sex?"
Sally told her it was an honest mistake - "He called me Wilma before he screwed me, so I knew what had happened."
Wilma accepted that, and asked, "Okay, but if you knew it was a mistake, why did you let your own brother screw you?"
Sally looked sheepish. "Truth?"
Wilma sighed. "Sally, you have screwed my boyfriend, who is also your brother, and let's not forget that you are only nine years old when the age of consent in this state is actually 17. Other than me thinking you're just an unprincipled, dirty little slut for committing incest when David honestly didn't know he was doing that but you did, you owe me the truth. Let's have it. Now."
Sally started crying and admitted, "Wilma, I am a dirty little slut. It felt so good when he entered me that I didn't want to stop. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't want to stop - in fact I spread my legs really wide and wrapped them and my arms around him. I...wanted him inside me as deeply as possible. Please forgive me. Please don't be mad. I...I love you both. I'm really sorry." Her head hung down. She was redder than a stop sign.
For a long minute Wilma just contemplated the two of them: a crying nine-year-old girl and a still-slumbering former drunkard. Then she sighed again, in resignation now. "Sally, it was an honest mistake. Okay. I can understand your not wanting to stop; I have to admit David's good in bed. He always makes sure I come, whether it's through foreplay, sex or both. Um, did you come?"
"Yes," Sally whispered. Her nipples tingled whenever she thought about it.
Wilma nodded. "I also get the whole ‛being a randy slut' thing. I am, I admit - one reason why we're lovers, we fuck all the time. He even brought me off in public once by feeling up my skirt and inside my G-string, the randy bastard. I was only 12 when I popped my cherry, and the guy was a first cousin, which is illegal in my home state of Iowa. So I guess there's a kind of precedent. And I can't say anything about you being underage per se when I was my first time.
"So," she continued, her tone gentler now, "I am not mad at you, I promise." Then she scowled. "I am mad at David, for such a stupid mistake - I mean, you only have A-cup tits, they're, what, 32A, and my tits are 34D, plus you're a raven and I'm blonde, so where the fuck did he think the excess tit tissue went when he felt ‛Wilma' up? Where did the raven hair come from? Also I am nearly a foot taller than you!" Then, to Sally's surprise, Wilma laughed. "As stupid mistakes go, that one's a biggie! His own, incredibly underage sister, for fuck's sake!"
"Well, he was drunk," Sally supposed.
But Wilma rolled her eyes. "C'mon, are we really gonna give him that pathetic excuse?"
Sally saw the funny side of it, and was relieved that Wilma had, too, and thus she hadn't lost a friend. "Oops," Sally quipped.
Wilma laughed harder. "Shannon Foraker said that when she blew up 24 SS superdreadnoughts! This is a bit more than just an ‛Oops!' moment!" She moved closer to the bed and whacked David on the head. "Hey, wake up, you dozy prick! Look where I am! What, lover, is wrong with this picture?"
David mumbled confusedly, "What -? Hey, how are you out of bed? And so fresh?"
"For a start, it is nearly noon. I have been awake nearly four hours, FYI. However, far more important than the question ‛How are you out of bed?' is the question ‛Hey, who is in bed? I guarantee you will not believe the answer to that one."
"Huh?"
"Hi, David," Sally said quietly.
His expression was comical. He registered the fact that Sally was naked - he knew she was because the clothes she'd been wearing when he went out last night, particularly her bra and panties, were neatly laid on the bedside table.
David didn't have a bedside table.
Plus the wallpaper was all wrong. The window was in the wrong place. The bedsheets were different.
And Sally...was...naked. In bed.
With him.
And he was naked, too.
The reality penetrated his fuzzy mind. "Um...this isn't my room, is it?"
"Well, what was your first clue, genius?"
He looked at Sally, who gave him a shy smile. "And...it...is...your room?"
Sally just nodded. Wilma, her arms crossed, tapped her foot once, twice, thrice.
As hungover as he was, David could and did add two and two. Unfortunately he got seven. "Um...last night...I was drunk, but...did we...?"
"Yes," Wilma sighed in exasperation.
"But...she's my sister. I...oh, God, I...with my sister...!"
"Yes, you prize idiot, you did. You had sexual intercourse with your sister, and as if that weren't bad enough, she is only nine. You are the biggest moron I have ever known!" Then she showed her mercurial nature by chuckling ruefully. "But I love you anyway, you dirty bastard." She kissed him and ruffled his already untidy hair.
He was full of remorse. "Sally, I am so sorry! I never meant to...!"
But Sally kissed his cheek. "I know. I was at fault, too - I knew you'd made a mistake, I knew I was making one, but...it just felt so good I couldn't bear to stop." She blushed a little and kissed him chastely, i.e. no tongues, on the lips. "If it's any consolation, it was really nice. You were good to me, and I really enjoyed it - you bumped my cervix."
David frowned. "How do you know where your cervix is? I mean, it's good that you do know, but -"
"Mom and her anatomy textbook - she showed me a diagram," Sally explained. "She bought me a dildo for when my periods start, for pain relief. She got me a long one because it bumps my cervix."
"He does that to me, too," Wilma put in, "a major advantage to fucking a guy with a 10-inch cock - he bumps my cervix and that makes my womb contract in reflex. I love that. It makes me come."
"I love it, too," Sally confessed. "Thank you, David." She chuckled. "I bet you'd have been just as good to Wilma."
"Were you, uh..."
"...a virgin?" Sally finished. "Uh, yes, I was. I popped my cherry with my own brother. Again...oops."
His woebegone expression made both the girls, or rather women, laugh.
They agreed it would be their secret...and they definitely did not tell their parents.
Though there was the occasional close shave, about which they gently teased each other, they never again shared a bed. Wilma showed her forgiveness to David by eschewing contraception and getting pregnant a few weeks later; to her delight, Wilma asked Sally to be her little girl's godmother, and happily accepted.
The night little Meg was born and Sally's parents were out celebrating, Wilma said to Sally whilst suckling her baby, "Hey. About the incest thing - remember?" Sally gulped and nodded. "Normally when kids find something they like doing, I know they'll keep on doing it. But...please tell me the truth, Sally. The day I got pregnant, I asked David if he'd ever had you again, and he swore he hadn't. Is that true? The truth," she added sternly.
"Yes," Sally whispered. "I promised you I'd never do it again, even though I enjoyed it. And yes, it's a really fond memory, even though I know it was wrong. But it would be even more wrong if I did it deliberately. I haven't. Wilma, I do love you. I'll swear it on my own blood if I have to."
Wilma suddenly looked interested. Sally looked at her uncertainly. "On your own blood, huh?"
"Uh, yeah..."
The older woman smiled slowly. "Well. I confess I have a bit of a sadistic streak. I once spanked a girl really hard against her will, yanking her panties down, and, ooh, I loved her tears of pain, her ass cheeks turning pink and then red, the bruises on her bare thighs and ass, her crying and begging me to stop. I'd enjoy seeing you bleed a little. So do it," she instructed with a - frankly evil - leer, "cut yourself. Swear on your own blood that you've only ever screwed David the once, you dirty incestuous little tart. Do it. Do it."
Uneasily Sally began, "Um, I -"
Abruptly Wilma succumbed to the influence (she later sheepishly confessed) of her raging hormones. "Or do you want me to tell your parents what a filthy lawbreaking immoral little slut you've been, and are?" Wilma demanded harshly. "Oh, I know you've been screwing around, with both sexes, they'll love to hear about that!" she added viciously. "Yeah, Josh Briggs and Sonya Prince each told me you've had 'em, they're my cousins!"
Gathering up her courage, Sally snapped, "Prove it! Prove I've been sleeping around!"
Wilma's angry expression matched hers. "Oh, I will - you have an unusual birthmark shaped like a strawberry on your lower belly, near your cunt! But it doesn't show unless you take off your panties!" Wilma snarled, and Sally gasped in shock, for it was true. "Now how do I know that, unless I know people you've fucked, huh?! So unless you cut your own flesh and spill your fresh living blood for me, I will tell your parents, and I'll get a sadistic kick out of that, too!"
"Y - you'd -?"
"Yeah! They love me, so they'll believe me! But I'll make it sound as if it was your fault - which it was, in a way, you could've stopped him fucking you! - and I'll be there when your Mom wallops you on your bare ass, which I bet she will, before hauling you off to the cops! Your choice, little whore! Cut yourself and let me," she licked her ruby-red lips, "enjoy it, or get spanked and arrested, and I'll enjoy that, too! I think your ass would look good after a spanking! TBH, I've always wanted to do that to you!"
"But - Wilma, that's immoral!" Sally cried. "Besides, you've committed incest!"
Laughing harshly, Wilma retorted, "Oh, I'll lie if you break your word, and so will my brother! Anyway, they'll accept his innocence, being drunk is a good excuse for all kinds of shit! Same for David, he'll get away with it! And I've been lying to folks for over two decades! I lied to Mom about getting laid, said I hadn't, and she believed me 'cause I was so convincing! But you, Sally, you can't lie, you're crap at it! You fucked him!"
Trapped, Sally pleaded, "Wilma, please, don't make me -"
"Do it!" Wilma spat, her cheeks flaring red. "You screwed my boyfriend! So aren't I the aggrieved party here?! Maybe," she threatened, "I'll spank you on your bare ass! Remember, I've wanted to do that to you for years!"
"I said at the time I was sorry," Sally murmured, upset, repentant and scared to death by Wilma's threat (but convinced she meant it and would really hurt her, which was frankly terrifying), "and I meant it. I still do."
Calming a little, Wilma conceded, "All right. I actually believed you then, and I admit I still believe you now. But the fact remains: you fucked him, Sally. So your choice remains, too." Her face resumed its fierce expression as she finished, "Well?"
Obediently if hesitantly, Sally went to the kitchen and got her mother's sharpest blade, a 10-inch carving knife. She tested the blade with a cut of meat in the fridge; her mother kept it lovingly sharp. She steeled herself and went back to Wilma. Trembling, she asked fearfully, "Are...are you going to make me cut my own breast, or my...sensitive parts?"
"What...your cunt? Ooh, that's tempting...would you do that if I told you to?"
"Wilma, I'm begging you, please don't...please…"
Looking excited at the prospect of Sally's humiliation, much as Wendy Stone's eyes had lit up in Prisoner: Cell Block H at the prospect of beating up Julie Egbert (Julie's eyes had widened in terror, for she knew full well that Wendy was a sadist and would enjoy it, and she might just go too far), Wilma considered it, but decided against. "No. Just cutting your arm will do, as long as you make it...hurt. Show me your blood and your pain," Wilma commanded, "now. Now. Do it. Cut yourself."
The blade's wicked edge caught the low light as Sally laid the knife on her arm.
She faltered only briefly as Wilma eagerly nodded, and made a shallow cut in her forearm. Wilma inhaled in lustful pleasure as the blood welled up, and Sally winced. "I swear on my own blood that I have never had sex with David more than once, and I never will again."
Sally was a little disturbed to see that Wilma's unoccupied nipple was hard, and she was a bit flushed. "That is both gross and exciting," she breathed throatily, clearly enjoying the sight of Sally's blood and her mild pain. Wilma even licked her lips again. "Mmm, the sight of blood really turns me on..." Then she got a grip. "Okay, Sally. I believe you." She smiled again, but kindly now, her mild sadistic streak assuaged. "I love you, too. I really do, however much of a bitch I came across as. Really, I do love you."
Once, Sally had illicitly watched Coogan's Bluff with a girlfriend at her house, a DVD her Dad owned, and she realised that Wilma resembled Linny Raven a little, in that she found the sight of blood to be sexually exciting. But, she shrugged mentally, everyone had their kinks.
After all, she had knowingly had sex with her brother...and she'd thoroughly enjoyed it.
While David was her first sexual partner, he was very far from being her last.
But she never again screwed either Josh or Sonya. Other partners, such as Rhiannon, were, thankfully, far more discreet.
Let it not be said that Sally Hill never learned her lessons.