The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Jenny stopped short at the sound of Tara’s voice, ready for the inevitable taunts, the insults, the mockery. Even though they’d been weirdly nice the past several days. Jenny didn’t trust them, didn’t trust their new nice-girl image the two of them conjured up, Tara and Kristin. She knew that Emily had started talking to Tara. She knew that Emily had gone to Tara’s house last night, but her friend didn’t say much about it today.

She seemed different.

For one thing, she didn’t bother to wear a bra today, and most of the boys in school fell over each other trying to catch a glimpse of her hard nipples protruding through her blouse fabric. Even the male teachers couldn’t stop looking. The female teachers noticed, of course, but they didn’t say anything. They just looked uncomfortable. Or lecherous.

Which Jenny also thought extremely weird.

Later that day, she caught Kristin and Tara practically pinning a flushed Emily against her locker, but when Jenny looked more closely at her friend, she realized Emily seemed excited about something. Even a little.

Turned on.

Stop it.

Stop thinking that way, Jenny.

You’re a good girl.

And so is Emily.

Even as she scolded herself, she had watched Emily walk out the door, Kristin and Tara on either side of her, their arms around her waist. Then she had seen Tara’s hand drift down to cup Emily’s butt. Emily jerked away, looked up at Tara, and giggled.

Tara’s hand went back to Emily’s ass, and Emily didn’t move it away.

Now, today, Emily acted completely different.

She ignored Jenny. She ignored Jefferson.

She clung to both Kristin and Tara.

Her clothes were barely acceptable for school, dark fishnet hose under a tight plaid skirt, thin pink blouse, unbuttoned to show her cleavage.

Without a bra.

Jenny barely recognized her face in the heavy mascara and eyeshadow she wore, and Emily’s lips gleamed a brilliant and glossy red.

Once, bursting through the restroom door, Jenny bumped into Kristin and Emily in an embrace. Kristin let go of Emily, but Jenny could have sworn that they had been kissing. Emily’s face was flushed, and her hair tangled.

She looked happy, a grin was fixed on her face, and her eyes were red and narrow. Jenny noticed that her perennial cross was missing.

In its place she wore a tight, lace collar, red.

And a delicate silver heart on a delicate silver chain.

Kristin smiled at Jenny.

“Hey, Jenny, are you coming to Tara’s tomorrow tonight? She’s going to have some of us over to watch movies.”

Jenny ignored her.

“Hey, Emily,” she said, “I need to talk to you. Is anything wrong?”

But Emily was already following Kristin out the door, her hand in Kristin’s hand as the other girl led her.

The restroom stank of air freshener and something else Jenny couldn’t identify. Something rank, acrid, and bittersweet.

Jenny didn’t see either Kristin, Tara, or Emily the next day.

Then, just before school ended, Tara showed up and confronted her in the hall, close to her locker.

“Hey, cutie,” she said.

Jenny stiffened. Then she pulled her history book from her locker before turning around to face Tara.

“What do you want, Tara? Where’s Emily? Where’ve you been today?”

Tara didn’t seem to mind Jenny’s rudeness.

She shrugged.

“Around. You can skip classes every now and then, you know.”

Jenny felt embarrassed, stuck-up, and a little self-righteous. She hated feeling that way, sometimes. But around people like Tara, she just couldn’t help it.

She was such a slut.

She and Kristin both.

And now they were messing with Emily.

Getting her to skip school.

How bad was it going to get?

Jenny quickly looked away from Tara’s intense green eyes. She looked down, catching the movement of Tara’s left hand.

She was pulling at her necklace, fingering a green pendant between her thumb and index finger, and when Jenny looked more closely, she saw it was shaped like a green bird in flight, a green dove perhaps.

It was so delicate and pretty, and the green shimmered and sparkled.

Jenny stared at the bird moving between Tara’s breasts, held up by her slender fingers, without blinking or marking the passage of time. The greens wings beat slowly in the small cage of Tara’s hand. The green bird seemed to flutter or float between the hills of Tara’s bust, and its eyes glittered gold, like fire. Suddenly Tara’s voice broke into her head, swimming with thoughts of the bird.

“So, you’re going to come, then? You’re going to come tonight? Emily will be there. She’ll come, too.”

Jenny nodded, her mind almost a perfect blank.

Still, she found the words to say, “Uh-huh. I’m coming. I’ll come tonight.”

Tara dropped her bird, which landed against her tight blouse, tight green cotton under which her breasts swayed full, ripe pears ready to be tasted.

Jenny’s mouth felt dry.

So dry.

“Good,” Tara said. “I can’t wait to see you there!”

Jenny turned to leave.

“Just a second, cutie pie. I have something for you. Just a little present to say I’m sorry for all the mean things I’ve said about you.”

Tara held out a small red box.

“Maybe you can wear it tonight?”

Jenny took the small box. Her face felt warm, flushed.

For some reason she was blushing, and she hardly murmured a thank you before trotting down the hallway to her mother’s car waiting in the parking lot.

Jenny wasn’t sure whether Tara’s mother wasn’t the most stunning woman she had ever seen.

She felt so out of place, so under-dressed for the occasion, an occasion she had had no idea was going to occur.

Even Emily, normally such a wallflower, looked radiant.

A little, um, slutty.

But radiant.

Weird.

She had dyed her jet black and cropped it short above her shoulders in a frizzy, ragged style.

Her eyeshadow sparkled, her mascara was thick and heavy, and she wore the same heavy glossy red lipstick.

Her wore a lacy, frilly black dress, neckline plunging below her breasts, and her silver heart dangled in the midst of her white skin.

Her eyes were red and narrow, and a smile never left her face.

She sat on the other side of the table, crushed between Kristin and Tara, who constantly held their faces close to hers, conspiratorially whispering in her ears, so close that their lips touched Emily’s lobes.

She shook her head, wondering if any of this was normal.

Everything got so weird the moment Tara answered the door when she rang the doorbell.

Jenny hopped from one foot to another nervously, questioning herself for the hundredth time why she had agreed to go over to Tara’s house.

Tara, of all people.

I mean.

Sure, she’d been really nice lately, she and Kristin, but still.

She had almost convinced herself to turn around and go home. Her hand went up to touch her crucifix but found the silver heart instead. A tremor of alarm ran through her body.

Then the door opened, and Tara stood in the doorway, resplendent.

She wore a long green evening dress which rippled like falling water, neckline plunging to her navel, and she fixed in her gorgeous brown hair in waves of braids and textured sheets rising high over her head, giving her masculine features an elegant and somehow delicate appearance.

Tasteful smoky eyeshadow accentuated her almond-shaped eyes, her makeup brought out the fine features of her face without covering her garishly, and her lips shone with a glossy reddish golden lipstick whose exact color eluded Jenny.

But it was the green pendant, the jade bird that caught Jenny’s attention, hovering between the full mounds of Tara’s chest, a green bird in flight in the smooth valley between two white hills.

Jenny’s hand drifted to her own silver heart as she stared blissfully and blankly at the green object.

Her mind filled with billowing clouds of rolling green and white mists, and a sense of elation swelled her chest; she felt dizzy and wonderful, thoughtless and wordless. A brilliant emerald bird flew in the midst of that green and white mist, and for a while nothing remained of Jenny’s consciousness but a flying jade bird with gleaming golden eyes.

Then a voice rolled over her, commanding but cheerful, happy to have Jenny there, lightly tinged with mockery.

“Earth to Jenny,” the voice laughed, “Are you going to stand there all night?”

Jenny snapped out of her reverie.

Looking at the exquisitely dressed Tara, Jenny felt foolish, severely under-dressed, a buck-toothed hillbilly set loose amid the finery of urbane aristocracy, a backwoods Hatfield amid the gilded splendor of the Vanderbilts of a bygone American era.

“I. I.”

She didn’t know how to finish the sentence.

“You look wonderful,” Tara assured her, pulling her into the house by her right hand.

And it was true, Jenny did look wonderful, in the simple way of a girl in a pretty dress. She looked fresh and happy despite her inner feelings of awkwardness. The blue dress contoured her body smoothly if not tightly, and her body, long and lithe, looked the better for it.

She wanted to be surprised at Tara’s unexpected opulence. In no way did the stunning young woman at her side resemble the high school slut who shadowed Emily and Jenny, sneering at and insulting them, making jibes at their religiosity, their belief, their piety.

They did try to be pious, Emily and Jenny. They tried to, which wasn’t easy in these free and liberal days. They read Bible passages together, prayed against temptation together, and when Jefferson showed interest in Emily, it was Jenny who encouraged it, recognizing in Jefferson the same love of Christian modesty and Protestant forbearance.

They had taken abstinence vows in 9th grade and continued to do so every year since then. They had kept their vows. Even at the age of 18 they were all three of them chaste, untested in the ways of the flesh, and it was Jenny who so strongly dreamed of Jefferson’s and Emily’s future marriage. They were so cute together, and they were so suitable.

They had all three gone to bible camp together, and this year, this coming summer, they would all be bible youth counselors.

Emily’s sudden change filled her with dread, and alarms screamed in her mind that something terrible had happened to her best friend.

Which is why she agreed to come to Tara’s house.

She just needed to find out what had happened.

If anything had happened.

And to have a long, long talk with Emily.

To put her back on the right path.

It’s what friends did.

Especially friends who went to the same church.

But the way Tara dressed this evening. Wow.

It just added to that mysterious, dangerous, and even a little naughty something that Jenny felt ever since Tara opened the door. Ever since she saw, really saw, that beautiful green jade bird hanging between Tara’s creamy breasts.

Just then Tara stopped and turned to Jenny.

“I’m so glad you came after all. I know you had your misgivings. I know you don’t trust me. Or Kristin. I’m pretty sure, we’re pretty sure you don’t really like us.”

This caught Jenny completely off guard. Flustered, she stammered a few inarticulate excuses, but Tara waved her away.

“It’s our fault. I know it is. We were so mean to you both.”

She winked at Jenny.

“Between you and me, I think it’s because we just liked you so much.”

Jenny flushed red, and her eyes drifted to the green bird.

So much of Tara’s chest was showing.

Bible counselors. Youth counselors. They were going to be bible counselors that summer, Emily, Jenny, and Jefferson. Youth counselors who would teach their young charges about scripture, warn them against the dangers of drugs, and sex, and rock and roll. And alcohol. Theirs was a high destiny, perhaps lonely in its righteousness but high and wondrous all the same.

Tara’s bosom was so much lovelier and more impressive than her own.

She was gangly and her own breasts were lean, sticking from her bony chest like absurd fruits, the one far apart from the other, or two little hills separated by a dry and dusty plain.

But she remembered the little silver heart in the midst of that plain, and one hand rose to clutch it even as she stared at the little green bird, aware of the little feeling of naughtiness expanding to a great embrace of desire and lust against which she lacked the will to defend herself.

A green vapor rose in her mind, swelling her brain like a gourd.

Something about youth and danger danced in the green mist and faded, replaced by a need, and aching need, to see more of the white hills of Tara.

“You can touch them if you like,” Tara said gently, and her voice, together with the meaning of the words, rocked Jenny’s reeling mind.

“I’m sorry?” Jenny stuttered.

“My necklace,” Tara laughed, “You can touch it if you like.”

Before Jenny could even take sense of what she was doing, her other hand lifted to touch Tara’s necklace, to hold the green pendant soaring above her lovely, so lovely, so full and wonderful, tits.

“After all, you can’t stop looking at them.”

Jenny couldn’t be sure whether she heard or misheard.

She realized it didn’t matter.

She couldn’t stop looking.

The pendant was so warm, hot, so green and vibrant, and the heat seared Jenny’s fingertips.

For a moment, a short moment Jenny couldn’t begin to understand, she ceased to exist.

The green mist engulfed her entirely, and she became a part of the green vapor, swirling as it swirled, blowing as it blew until only the green bird remained solid, flying in the center of the green nebula, it alone solid and enduring. Then the golden eye winked, and Jenny became herself again, standing in front of a bemused Tara, softly stroking the jade pendant, while her other hand no longer held the silver heart but was clutching her own breast, grasping her tit under her blue dress and rubbing her hard, hard nipple.

Her nipples were so hard.

They poked from the thick cotton of her bra and from the thinner fabric of her blue dress.

“You shouldn’t have worn a bra,” Tara said. “I know it’s uncomfortable for you. It’s okay to take it off.”

Tara turned and continued walking, leaving Jenny to struggle with a frail doubt.

“You really should take it off before you meet my mother. I know she’d appreciate it.”

Tara turned around to see Jenny struggling with the back of her dress.

So naughty.

So very naughty.

“Do you need help?”

Jenny looked at Tara pitifully, tears watering in her eyes.

“Please. Help me. I. I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

“Of course I’ll help you. Turn around.”

Tara took a couple of steps towards her guest, turned her around with both arms, unzipped the back of Jenny’s dress, pulled her dress off her shoulders, and unclasped the bra, smoothly stroking Jenny’s skin with her fingertips.

“There,” she said, “you should be able to struggle out of that now.”

Soon Jenny managed to shuffle out of her bra, and Tara zipped her dress back up, running her palms flat across Jenny’s shoulders.

Jenny’s heart pounded in her chest.

A voice, far down inside, muffled by leagues of green mist, shouted at her to leave, but Jenny paid it no attention.

She’d been helped, and she realized Tara was right.

She did feel better without the bra.

Her nipples poked like small marbles from her dress, and Tara watched her tits jiggle as she walked.

Suddenly Tara drew Jenny to her side, embracing her with her arm around her waist as she led her to the dining room.

Jenny wasn’t sure whether Tara’s mother wasn’t the most stunning woman she had ever seen.

The moment Jenny entered the dining room she knew she was lost.

It was all so shocking, so new, so different, so outrageous, that she knew, somewhere deep down inside, that she should use whatever remained of her inner strength and flee.

But not enough of her inner strength remained, and she floated rather than walked in green clouds of lust billowing and emanating from Tara’s gorgeous body—and from the green bird flying before them, leading Jenny to an undiscovered country, to where Tara had already prepared a way.

Her tits were so hard, Jenny’s tits. Her nipples exploded from her dress, threatening to poke holes in the blue fabric, and she jutted her chest forward, awkward but proud in her new.

Her new world.

Her brave new world.

Tara had said she liked them.

Just before entering the dining room, she told her so.

“Your tits are so pretty, Jenny. I really like them. I’m so glad you’re going to let us all see them. Stick your chest out a little. You should be proud of them.”

Then she pushed her guest forward through the wide arch leading to the dining room.

“After all, it’s a brave new world for you.”

The first thing Jenny noticed was Emily. Rather, what she noticed was what looked to be a long, wide tube of water in blue-tinted glass. Emily had her mouth jammed against the opening while holding a lighter at the bottom of the tube. Jenny had no idea what the girl was doing. Then she heard a loud bubbling. Emily pulled away from the tube in a sweet cloud of smoke, coughing and laughing.

She looked up at a puzzled Jenny, still grinning.

Her red eyes were slits.

“Dude,” she said before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

She held the tube out to Jenny.

“Ear,” she said, her voice oddly strained and compressed.

Kristin sat right next to her.

She was grinning, too.

“Girl. Emily is such a weed freak. She totally gets high all the time. I bet you didn’t know that, did you?”

Jenny shook her head slowly, not really comprehending what she saw.

Emily? Weed? Did that mean? Marijuana? Emily smoked marijuana? Since when?

She felt someone’s hand on her butt, sliding her hand across the top of her rise, moving over both sides of butt. She wanted to move away from the hand, but she heard Tara breathing softly into her ear.

“It’s okay, baby. You’ll see. You love to watch Emily get high. It makes her so happy, and you love to see her happy.”

The sound of Tara’s voice calmed the rising panic, which melted away, practically vanishing before Jenny had time to notice it.

The hand on her ass belonged to Tara.

And somehow that comforted her, calmed her.

She found herself pushing her ass gently against Tara’s hand, letting the girl know she could leave it there.

That muffled voice returned, a faint whine of reproach.

Stop it, it said. Get out of there, it warned. You need to get out now.

But the voice was so soft, she could barely hear it in the din of her own wildly beating heart.

And it couldn’t compete with Tara’s sweet, sweet voice, so wise, so comfortable, so, so. Sexy.

Oh god, she had wanted to be sexy so many times.

So many times throughout her adolescence she wondered what it would be like to be one of the sexy girls, to be sexy, but she had resisted, and she had waited, and now she was 18, finally she was 18, and it seemed so foolish not to be sexy, not to revel in her body, her beautiful female body.

Sexy like Kristin.

Her blond hair swirled in wide golden waves around her face, her blue eyes gleamed with affection, her makeup accentuated her angular features without overwhelming her looks, her eyeshadow glittered, and her dark mascara brought out the wide almonds of her eyes, her brows contoured in lean arches.

She wore a red dress, similar to Tara’s green dress, and her plunging neckline dipped well below her navel. With every movement she made, one breast or the other was exposed, her peach-colored nipples hard and excited on her small round mounds.

She smiled at Jenny with glossy, pale pink lips, and her eyes were red like Emily’s.

She put her mouth over the tube of water and sucked in a deep breath, her hand holding a lighter to the bottom of the tube.

She too pulled away in a fit of coughing.

“Oh god,” she said at last, “I’m so baked.”

Tara’s lips brushed against Jenny’s ear, gently kissing her as she breathed.

“Let me introduce you to Mother. She’s so excited to meet you. She’s going to teach you how to make love to a woman tonight.”

A whimpering voice deep inside Jenny coiled into a fetal position, clutching at a panic that refused to rise, but Jenny ignored it.

There was nothing she could do, anyway.

Tara’s mother was going to teach her how to make love to a woman.

It all sounded so. Naughty.

Tara’s hand on her ass pushed her forward to the woman sitting at the end of the table.

Jenny was absolutely sure Tara’s mother was the most stunning woman she had ever seen.

Aside from Tara herself.

Which went without saying.

Her gown fell in long folds and ripples from her shoulders, held up by narrow straps that showed the graceful sweep of her neckline, the soft curve of her shoulders, and the alabaster mellowness of her chest, her smooth mature skin rising in a slope towards pendulous globes hanging loose. The neckline of the gold dress fell wide and long, as long as the neckline of Kristin’s dress, but the Dale girl’s chest could not hope to rival the size and majesty of Tara’s mother’s heaving glands.

Boobs, Jenny suddenly thought. Her boobs are huge.

Two full breasts, pear-shaped but melon-sized, with dark, half-dollar-size areolas peaked with long hard nipples showed clearly behind the fabric of the dress, coming fully into view with every gesture and bend the woman made.

Jenny inhaled deeply, more turned on than she’d ever been in her young life.

In normal times, the open sexuality of the dinner table would have left the young woman perturbed and troubled, clinging to the defense of modesty with shamed and averted eyes.

But the green cloud swirling around her, blowing and whirling in her mind, had driven all that away, leaving her alone with her sudden lust, her sudden aching need to see and be seen.

She felt Tara’s hands on her shoulders, she felt Tara’s breath on her neck, she felt Tara’s lips on her ears, touching her skin lightly, sending new shivers down Jenny’s neck and spine.

Her legs parted slightly, and she stuck her ass backward, wanting to be touched.

“She’s so lovely, isn’t she? And she wants you tonight. She wants you so bad tonight. Her silver heart touching yours. Look!”

And Jenny saw the same delicate silver heart hanging from her neck, swinging between her glands.

Her boobs, Jenny thought.

Her sweet boobs.

And even as Jenny looked at Tara’s mother’s marvelous chest, her tits fell into open view, her areolas so wide and dark, and her hard nipples, as wide as thimbles but longer, burst onto Jenny’s staggering mind, and her mouth went dry.

Then she became aware that she was licking her lips slowly, first her upper lip then her bottom lip, her tongue tip running along her parched mouth, trying to make her wet.

Tara kissed her neck.

Tara kissed her trembling neck, and she whispered in her ear.

“You can see her. Shouldn’t she be able to see you?”

Jenny wanted to nod, and maybe she did, but she felt Tara’s hands at the zipper at her back.

“Let’s show her your necklace, too.”

Jenny’s hand moved to lift her silver heart, but Tara chided her.

“Not that way.”

Then she felt her zipper go down, down, down, all the way to the middle of her back, and she felt Tara’s hands at her dress straps, and she felt Tara’s hands pull each strap off her shoulders, and Jenny held the front of her dress up.

“No. Let her see. Don’t you want to let her see? Look how excited she is to see you.”

Jenny lifted her eyes from the woman’s bust.

Tara’s mother was so beautiful, so gorgeous. Her light brown hair, full and wavy, surrounded her face and landed on her shoulders, her face was round with round apples for cheeks. Her wide round eyes, green like Tara’s, peered at Jenny with mischief and delight, and her lips were full and gleaming with golden red lipstick.

“I’m Linda,” she smiled. “Drop your hands, dear, and let me see your wonderful,” and here Jenny caught the traces of a smirk, “boobs.”

Jenny let her drop, and her dress fell to her waist as she stood in front of Tara’s mother Linda.

Tara pulled out the chair for Jenny to sit down, and Jenny looked up and smiled in appreciation, realizing she adored the way Tara took charge.

Tara leaned into her neck, nuzzling her skin with her nose.

“You just sit here and listen to my mother. Pay close attention. Don’t miss even one word. Be a good, obedient little girl, now. Okay?”

“’Kay.”

Tara kissed her on the cheek.

“Enjoy yourself and relax for now,” she said as she made her way to Kristin and Emily. “It’s going to get a little intense tonight. Just take this all slowly. You’ll love every minute of it. You’re going to do just fine, just super, really.” Tara paused and winked at her from across the table. “You little slut.”

Hearing her daughter, Linda smiled at Jenny.

“Is it true,” she asked. “Are you a little slut?”

Jenny swallowed drily.

Was it true? Was she a little slut?

She must be, mustn’t she, if Tara said so.

If Tara wanted her to be one, then she’d have to be one.

Wouldn’t she?

“I don’t know,” she replied meekly. “I’m still a virgin.”

“Still,” Linda said. “I suppose you must be. If you’re already taking off your dress at the dinner table.”

So much had changed for Linda since Tara had turned 18 and had begun showing off the necklace that idiot George had bought her for her fifteenth, no sixteenth birthday.

He had brought it back from one of his many strange trips to the Far East. He obtained it in Mongolia, but he claimed it came from deep inside China, from the time of the Tang.

Tara hated it and screamed at her father that he never bought her anything cool or anything a girl would want.

“An ugly bird?” she shrieked incredulously. “What the hell am I supposed to do with it?”

That idiot George just shrugged.

“I thought it looked pretty,” he said. “Don’t wear it if you don’t like it.”

So she didn’t wear it, and Linda ended up buying her an iPhone, makeup, and a ticket to a Taylor Swift concert.

The green bird went to the back of Tara’s top dresser drawer, where everything she forgot about went. Things she didn’t like but somehow didn’t want to get rid of.

Linda had forgotten all about it, too.

Then one day, not too long ago, sometime around Tara’s eighteenth birthday the girl started wearing it.

“Where did you get that?” Linda had asked.

“Oh. I just found it. Dad bought it for me a while back. I think it’s pretty. I had forgotten all about it. I don’t know why I didn’t like it. God, I was such a brat back then.”

You’re such a brat now, her mother retorted in her mind, but she held her tongue.

“It is pretty,” Linda agreed. “I like looking at it.”

“I like looking at it, too.”

Then Tara turned and walked away, leaving Linda standing alone with an inexplicable feeling of loss.

The days passed, and Linda spent more and more of those days staring at the green bird, listening to her daughter, trying to recall what her daughter told her, but it didn’t make any sense, and she stopped thinking about it. Just ignore Tara.

Don’t mind Tara.

That Kristin Dale started coming over more and more, retreating with Tara into Tara’s bedroom.

Eventually low murmurs and hushed sounds came from behind the door, the unmistakable sounds of kissing. And more. The bed rattled and squeaked.

Linda wanted to say something.

She tapped on the door.

“Go away, Mom. You’re okay with all this.”

Which was true when Linda thought about it.

She was okay with all that.

It wasn’t until the day after that Emily girl first came over that things changed between mother and daughter.

More and more often, Linda found herself fantasizing about Kristin, about what it would be like to make love to Kristin. To touch Kristin’s young body. To make it tremble, shake, and scream under her caresses and kisses.

Her mind somehow turned green, if that made any sense. The world around her seemed to take on a vaguely green hue, and she found herself constantly horny, constantly aroused.

But not by her husband.

She found herself going into her daughter’s room, ostensibly for laundry. But when she found her panties, used, unwashed, she held them to her nose, or ran her fingers over the gusset, often sticky with Tara’s vaginal secretions.

She tried to stop. She argued with herself, always ending up explaining to her conscious that she needed to smell a woman, another woman. That Tara’s panties had nothing to do with Tara herself.

And for a while that argument held.

Jenny heard bubbling coming from the other side of the table. She turned and saw Emily pulling her mouth away from her transparent blue bong, coughing and grinning.

Jenny grinned back and laughed, delighted, happy for her best friend. God, Emily was such a weed freak.

Jenny turned once again to face Linda, so sexy and beautiful.

She pushed her own tits out further, letting the woman admire them, as small and insignificant as they were. Linda liked them that way. She said so.

The food on the table had been emptied by that time. Cold cuts, prosciutto, thin slices of carpaccio, slices and cubes of hard and soft cheeses, slices of toasted baguettes and shallow bowls of olive oil, spicy green and Kalamata olives drenched in oil, white and purple grapes, peeled quarters of oranges, nuts, and salads had been laid out for the dinner party.

Tall, clear crystals of water stood in front of each woman, along with a high narrow glass of Prosecco or a broader shallower crystal of red Chianti, for the night had taken an unwitting, but wholly welcome, Italian turn.

The small group of women, breasts bared and ravenous, had made quick work of the table, and Linda was delighted to see her Tara carefully clean up the dishes without being asked.

Such a good, kind, sweet girl.

Jenny had never tasted alcohol before, and being served such a forbidding drink before her twenty-first birthday filled with a sense of fearful maturity.

Tara, carrying a few plates, walked behind Jenny, saw her drinking the deep red wine, smiled, and leaned into her ear.

“That’s it, cutie,” she whispered. “I always knew you were a cheap wino whore.”

Jenny’s gut wrenched, and a quickly rising horror pervaded her entire body.

As broken as her mind now was, as overwhelmed by everything Tara had done and said so far, she knew that Tara’s declaration had already wreaked its devastation. She’d become a cheap wino whore, and there was nothing and no one that could stop it from happening.

She already was a cheap wino whore.

It had been decided.

It was the simple truth.

Panicking, she finished the rest of her wine in one gulp. Her left hand fell to her lap, and she began to rub her mound over her rumpled dress, rolling her hips and uttering short, low moans. So turned on, so fantastically aroused. Her pussy needed attention, and she needed to fuck.

She caught Linda staring at her, the woman’s eyes wandering from her face to her tits to her pussy still hidden by the dress bunched up at her waist.

“At least you’ll be a cheap lesbian wino whore,” Tara’s mother proclaimed wryly looking over her own upturned glass of glittering golden-white Prosecco.

“That’s the kind I like best.”

Jenny’s hand jerk away from her boiling snatch, and she shivered, shaking her head. A voice rose from the depths of her, quiet, muffled, but vehement.

“Stop it, Jenny. Resist. Don’t let Tara do this to you. Don’t let this awful woman have her way with you. Cover yourself up, for Christ’s sake. You can do it.”

Jenny didn’t cover herself up.

But neither did her hand move back to her pussy, aching and roiling with need and desire.

God, she needed to touch herself down there.

No, Jenny. Stop it.

All the same, the green cloud of lust and obedience, utter subservience to whatever Tara told her, and by extension (because Tara willed it so), whatever Linda said to her.

Her hand clinched, wanting to fuck the pussy so close to it.

Of course it did.

The woman the hand belonged to was a cheap lesbian whore.

You don’t have to do this, Jenny.

But the voice grew more and more faint, and the distance more and more irrecoverable.

It was in this state that Jenny followed Linda and Tara to the entertainment room, her eyes concentrated on Linda’s wide ass moving dramatically from side to side, swaying and rolling.

“It’s hypnotic, isn’t it?” Tara asked Jenny. “You can’t stop looking my mother’s ass, and it’s turning you on more and more, you’re getting so hot now, so horny, so ready to let her have her way with you, so ready to let her teach you the meaning of a woman’s love, aren’t you?”

Jenny’s mouth hung open.

Emily, for her part, was flying high.

She’d had two or three days already of Tara’s relentless tutelage, and she had long given up the struggle.

It was so easy to smoke weed, to chew edibles, to suck on her bong, so easy to get high and lick pussy, so easy to get baked and let Kristin pound her open cunt with her strap-on, fucking her silly as she bent her knees and spread her thighs, and reveled in the gorgeous vision of Kristin on top of her, making love to her, fucking her slow and steady.

Getting high with her.

Kristin was a weed freak, too, it turned out.

Such a weed freak.

“It’s like you two were meant for each other,” Tara had laughed when she saw them fucking and smoking.

They had laughed, too.

Then they fucked and smoked some more.

Kristin’s pussy tasted so good on her dry mouth.

Emily had spent so much time between Tara and Kristin’s legs, coming home late after hours of lesbian debauchery, that her mother quickly noticed, and said something to the young, newly adult, woman.

“You’re gone all the time, honey,” her mother would complain.

“Oh, Mom,” Emily would reply. “I have to grow up sometime.”

But Emily’s mother didn’t know why her daughter’s eyes were so bloodshot all the time or why her hair was also such a sticky mess.

Or why she had to wear such upsetting clothes and makeup.

The pierced eyebrows.

The pierced nose.

It all had happened so fast; she didn’t have any time to react.

But she had time to worry, and worry she did.

“You look so, so different honey. Don’t you think you might scare the boys away?”

Emily retorted sharply.

“Who says I care about boys?”

Jenny’s eyes were glued to Linda’s ass swaying and undulating in front of her. A wide inverted triangle, heart-shaped, with long, oval moons, it nearly burst her gold dress. Then Linda turned her head, and with a wicked smile she raised the hem of her dress above her waist, letting Jenny’s eyes feast on her naked body, her ass bared just for her.

Jenny breathed in deeply, glazed eyes gazing fixedly at the crack of the woman’s ass leading to the sloping back of her pussy hanging between her thighs, where the inverted curved vee parting her ass opened onto a dark patch of mysterious feminine intoxication. A thin line separated her dark, puffy skin, covered by a sparse tuft of fur, beading with moisture. Never in her life had Jenny given another woman’s vagina more than a quickly stifled passing thought, and now her mouth went dry just looking at the manifest cunt and sexy swaying ass.

She’d had two glasses of red wine so far, the slutty drunk that she was, the drunky little whore slut, the slutty slit, the gangly wino dyke hot for her friend’s mother.

Hot for any woman who’d have her.

Jenny giggled.

Her drunken eyes were held steady by the swinging of Linda’s naked butt, and the new elation of alcohol made her so happy.

So happy.

Linda’s ass glowed, Linda’s pussy glowed, the back of her pussy glowed, and Linda’s thighs and legs blinded Jenny with their hot luster.

Then the dress fell back down, and Jenny heard Linda’s promise.

“Soon. You’ll get to taste me real soon, baby. Just hold on a little while longer.”

And the only thing Jenny knew is that soon, soon she would finally taste Linda’s gorgeous and marvelous slit.

She had waited her whole life for this moment.

She could wait a little while longer.

But just a little while.

She walked behind Linda, Tara leading the way, and this time she didn’t stop her hand from moving over her pussy, sliding her fingers between her wet, engorged folds even as she walked in a dream of feverish, maniacal lust.

Soon.

And with a sudden impish thought, Jenny used her other hand to part her loosely joined dress, and she let it go to the floor with a quiet whoosh, walking behind Linda only in her panties as she stepped out of her dress.

The little voice inside her whimpered, a tiny whisper lost in the green whirlwind of lust blasting through Jenny’s heart, soul, mind, and body.

Linda looked behind her, saw her prey disrobing, and grinned.

Then she took each strap of her own gold dress and let each one fall from her smooth and pretty shoulders.

She reached her right hand behind her, without looking.

Instinctively, Jenny reached her right hand out to take it and, clasping it lightly in her own hand, she followed her mistress as the woman led the way.

But Tara walked ahead of them all.

They ended up in an enormous, spacious, entertainment room, a billiards table at one end, and a small home theater at the other end. A wall-sized screen faced the length of the room. A small white fabric sofa faced the screen, along with armchairs and assorted tables. Pink, purple, black, and cream-colored dildos stood erect on the tables, along with vibrators, lubricants, beads, and cuffs.

Jenny’s dizzy mind tried to absorb everything she saw, but it was all so new or raunchy or disgusting or unfathomable that she just let everything wash over her. Tara and Linda would show her how to use them all. Would teach her what to do.

Tara saw Jenny’s glance and nodded.

“Tonight, Jenny, you’re really going to learn how to be a lesbian slut. It’s what you’ve always wanted, right?”

Jenny bit her bottom lip and nodded.

It was, wasn’t it?

Of course it was.

She’d always wanted this.

Tara approached her, leaned in, and whispered, “tonight I think I’m going to let Emily take your virginity. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To let Emily fuck you in both your slutty holes?”

Jenny groaned softly and said something Tara couldn’t hear.

“What was that, dyke? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes,” Jenny said. The word came out huskily, from deep within Jenny’s throat. “I want Emily to fuck both my slutty holes.”

“Because you’re a dyke whore, a cheap wino dyke whore?”

Jenny nodded.

“Because I’m a cheap wino dyke whore.”

Linda rescued Jenny.

“Here,” she said. “Sit by me. No, not there. Between my legs, yeah. Just like that.”

Linda sat on the plush, cream-colored sofa, spreading her thighs, revealing her long, ragged vulva to Jenny, who couldn’t help but stare. A fine mesh of blond pubic hair sat above her mons, a little fur grew on both side of her gaping cunt, along the fat, dark, outer labia.

Before Jenny could sit and scoot her pert derriere to the front of Linda’s opening, Linda slid her fingers beneath the waistline of Jenny’s panties and pushed them down, noticing how the wide gusset of the girl’s white underwear clung to her sticky cunt lips, how a fine string of opaque cunt juice stretched and broke as she slid the garment down the girl’s smooth naked legs.

Linda ran her two longer fingers over the cleft of Jenny’s vulva, soaking her fingers in the secretions, then she brought them to her mouth and licked her fingers one by one.

“Hm,” she said. “You taste so good. So good.”

Then she pulled Jenny’s body, her back facing Linda’s ample bosom, tightly against her, wrapping her arms around Jenny’s waist, and letting her hands fall over her lap, lightly caressing the girl’s sex.

Jenny squeezed her thighs together, but Linda pried them apart.

“Remember to keep your thighs spread wide for me tonight. I want to stroke you while we watch the fun movies.”

Jenny spread her thighs.

“Wider.”

Jenny spread her thighs wider so that her pussy lips parted slightly.

“That’s better. You and I are going to have so much fun tonight. And your little friend, too!”

Linda lifted her right hand to massage Jenny’s boobs.

“So soft and nice. I can’t wait to taste them. I can’t wait to put them in my mouth, one by one, nibbling on your adorable little nipples like little candies.”

Linda kissed the back of Jenny’s neck where her shoulder began.

Jenny shivered, watching Emily kneel on the floor beside Tara and Kristin from the corner of her eyes.

“Emily’s little more than their slave by now,” Linda whispered in Jenny’s ear. “Their very own little weed-smoking Goth dyke.”

It was true about Emily. Basically true.

They’d done a number on her, and they weren’t finished. She still needed to get a pierced tongue, to get pierced lips filled with rings and studs, to get pierced nipples, a pierced belly button, and multiple rings and studs in her labia, her labia just lined with rings and studs.

But for now, she looked good.

The rings and studs in her eyebrows, the ring in her nose, all those rings and studs lining her earlobes.

They had her make an appointment to get her tongue pierced tomorrow, and lips. Pierced pussy. The works.

After that, they’d have to wait a few weeks to let her heal. Tara planned on drenching her mind with the green pendant, the green mist of the pendant during the down time, fucking her cunt repeatedly with the dildo, while telling her how much she loved it, how much of a lesbian she was, just the biggest whore, a lesbian adult film actress in the making.

Along with Jenny.

And not just her cunt.

After all, Emily needed to learn how to take it up the ass.

And she would need to learn how to fuck her friend Jenny.

For all those pornos they’d be shooting for Girlsnap.

Emily almost came just thinking about it when Tara told her.

Tattoos would come later.

They already had one Jenny hadn’t noticed yet.

???????????? ????????

Just below her neck in big black Gothic lettering.

They had it done last night.

Or the night before last.

It was so hard to keep up with everything that happened to her, she was so stoned all the time.

Stoner Dyke

She loved it. It suited her. She was so queer. So gay. So lesbian.

And just about the biggest weed freak.

Kristin and Tara still had their dresses on, such as they were.

They sat next to each other on the sofa, side by side, Kristin next to Linda, and Tara on the other side. Kristin’s left thigh touched Linda’s right thigh and from time to time during the evening, Linda’s hand would travel from Jenny to Kristin, so eager for the young girl flesh her daughter had made her crave.

Emily was kneeling on the floor in front of her two mistresses, staring up Tara’s green dress, which she hunched up to her waist. Tara spread her thighs, her left leg tossed over Kristin’s right leg, and she patted her inner thigh for Emily to begin kissing.

“Show Jenny what you’ve learned, slut. Show Jenny how to please a woman. Show Jenny how you’ve learned to make a girl cum.”

Emily’s head moved swiftly between Tara’s legs, and Tara lifted a remote control from the table next to the sofa, pointed it at the screen, and the screen lit up, showing Tara’s bedroom, with Emily and Kristin and Tara on her bed, nude and writhing.

Tara turned the volume up, and the sound of their lovemaking, the sound of their carnality filled the entertainment room.

Jenny focused on the screen, the three girls, Emily looking the way she used to look, her beautiful brown hair and her unblemished, unpierced skin. She was lying between Tara’s thighs, her head was bobbing up and down as if licking something, and then Jenny realized what her friend was doing.

“My god. She’s doing it. She’s licking Tara.”

Linda caressed Jenny’s tit, then squeezed it, pinching her hard nipple playfully.

“She’s eating her out dear. Your best friend is eating my daughter out. Tara says she learned quickly. Very quickly.”

Tara must have been right, because soon she began to howl onscreen, clinching her legs tight against Emily’s head.

Jenny found it hard to concentrate on the screen, torn between wanting to look at Emily kneeling on the floor, Linda’s soft hands stroking her own soaked pussy, and needing to watch the amateur porn facing her, larger than life.

Linda kissed her ear.

“Keep your legs spread. I know you want to squeeze them together it feels so good when I touch you like this, doesn’t it?”

She heard kissing sounds coming from beside her. Glancing down at Emily, she saw her friend kissing Kristin’s calf and working her way down to her ankle, kissing the bony protrusion and the top of her foot, holding her foot lovingly with both hands.

Kristin’s mouth covered Tara’s mouth, their tongues twisting together. Kristin’s eyes were closed, and low muffled moans came from her throat. Jenny couldn’t stop looking at how their lips, covered in glossy lipstick, pressed against each other, first drawing closed and then opening in constant movement, as if Tara were trying to swallow Kristin while Kristin so desperately wanted to consume Tara.

The sounds of their loud wet plopping kisses added to the sounds coming from the movie, where Kristin pushed Emily’s ass up while the girl continued performing oral sex on a writhing Tara. Kristin, nude, bent forward, kneeling behind Emily, her beautiful blond hair a tangle of bedraggled knots, and pulled her ass cheeks apart, plunging her face between her cheeks, clearly placing her mouth and tongue on Emily’s asshole.

“She’s eating your friend’s ass, dear. Kristin just loves to do that. It’s so sexy, don’t you think? Repulsive and hot at the same time? Don’t worry, Emily’s clean. Kristin doesn’t like dirtiness as much as some girls do.”

Linda fondled Jenny’s breasts and kissed along her shoulder.

“I wonder if Tara will turn you into an ass-eater? I bet she does. She’s kind of weird about that.”

Jenny turned back to watch Tara and Kristin kiss. Linda noticed and gently but irresistibly turned the girl’s face towards hers.

“Kiss me like that, Jenny. Kiss me like Kristin is kissing Tara.”

The muffled voice inside Jenny groaned in its fetal position, but it opened its lips slightly, against its will, Jenny’s new hunger trickling down even to it. What good lay in resistance, when the outcome was so good and so certain.

A cheap lesbian whore.

A cheap wino dyke.

Linda lifted the bottle to Jenny’s lips and upturned it.

“Drink,” she said tenderly. “You adorable drunk.”

Jenny swallowed as much of the sweet and vinegar-acrid red wine as she could, but some wine trickled from the corners of her mouth and fell on her chest, where Linda massaged it over her tits.

“So cute.”

Linda drank from the wine bottle, too, and pulled Jenny in for her kiss.

Jenny’s eyes swam, and Linda’s golden red lipstick burnished her full, plumps, and soon Jenny was tasting the wine and the lipstick, dizzy with a renewed resurgence of a lust that never faded. She felt Linda’s mouth open, and she felt Linda’s tongue licking her closed lips, and she felt her mouth open, slightly, to let the mother’s tongue into her mouth, where it found her own tongue waiting.

Jenny had never kissed anyone before.

She never had a boyfriend to kiss. Not the way Emily had Jefferson. Used to have Jefferson.

Unless Jefferson was okay with Emily dyking out with Kristin and Tara.

I mean, if Emily still wanted a boyfriend.

If Emily even liked boys anymore.

Jenny’s eyes furled slightly while kissing Linda.

Did Emily like boys?

Then Jenny stopped thinking about Emily and boys because Linda caressing her breasts, fondling her small tits, and tangling her tongue with Jenny’s tongue made Jenny forget about everything.

Linda’s mouth tasted of wine and lipstick, and from that moment Jenny would associate the best kisses with wine and lipstick. She’d get drunk to taste lipstick and tasting lipstick got her drunk, but for now, for this moment, she melted into Linda’s expert touches, her expert kisses.

For her part Linda, too, was new to this, new to lesbianism, new to enjoying the utterly carnal delights of a woman’s body.

But she knew her own body, and she knew sex, and she knew how to put it all together.

She sucked on Jenny’s tongue like she used to suck some college kid’s dick, and she enjoyed it more, far more, than the one-sided sex with a man. She could tell Jenny lacked experience.

She could also tell Jenny was turned on by it.

And she could sense that Jenny wanted to give back.

Tara hadn’t just taught her mother to accept her lesbian sex with Kristin. She had encouraged Linda to dwell on the very thought of it, to get turned on by the very idea of it, lesbian sex. Lesbian sex for Linda. What would it be like? How much better than the stale sex with George—stale and routine if they had sex at all? How much would she enjoy a woman’s body, a young woman’s body, an eighteen-year-old girl’s body, so willing to give herself up to Linda. How much she would love the taste of her skin, her lips, her mouth, her.

Vulva.

Vagina.

Pussy.

Cunt.

“It’s okay to rub yourself at night, or all day long if you can, to the thought of me having sex with Kristin, Mom,” Tara would say to her. “You should think about it. I know you love thinking about girls, Mom. I know the thought of you becoming a lesbian turns you on. It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

Linda would nod, her eyes blank, rapt in the green haze that filled her days and nights, the golden eye of the green bird and the slow flapping of its green wings.

She stayed weeks like that. Months. So hungry for a woman’s love, a teenager’s body, so hungry for lesbian sex with one of Tara’s friends, but Tara kept her hungry and lonely and on fire for pussy.

“You can’t stop thinking about pussy, can you Mom? I bet you watch lesbian porn all the time on your laptop upstairs. You do, don’t you?”

It was such a good idea.

Linda needed so much relief, so much relief.

She’d fuck herself in bed at night, her laptop open, the loud moans coming from the speakers, but George never seemed to mind or even noticed.

He seemed so dull lately.

So oblivious to anything but going to work and coming home, where he made dinner, cleaned the kitchen, and went to bed.

Just like Tara told him to.

And then one day, not too long ago, when the waiting became almost unbearable, Tara sidled up to her and said mischievously, “I found someone for you, Mom. I think you’ll absolutely love her. I think you’ll want to teach her everything there is to know about making love to a woman, about pleasing a woman’s body.”

When she finally saw Jenny, she praised god for her daughter’s generosity.

The girl was so beautiful, her unadorned beauty so natural, her body so long and lithe, Linda came at the table, a small aperitif of an orgasm, just looking at her, imagining finally holding the body against hers. She felt a little ashamed, as if she herself was overdone, overly made up, and gaudy.

But she saw the lust in the girl’s eyes, and she was glad of her daughter’s guidance in the matter of clothes and makeup.

So, Linda took this first with Jenny very slow and sensual, allowing the young woman to get used to Linda’s tongue in her mouth, Linda’s lips on her lips. To get used to this exchange of saliva, of spit. To melt into the sound of the kissing, the smacking of their lips until her body collapsed against Linda’s body.

She opened her mouth a little wider, and her tongue touched Jenny’s tongue, which remained still, hesitant, scared. Little by little Linda prodded and prompted her to return the kiss, and Jenny returned the kiss. Her tongue swirled with Linda’s tongue, exploring and probing.

The mother was certain of her daughter’s little friend’s hunger. She closed her mouth a little, retracted her tongue, sucked a little of Jenny’s bottom lip, and then ran her tongue along the tooth-wall of Jenny’s mouth, feeling her warm, wet gums where they met the teeth.

The message was clear.

All parts of you are mine.

All parts of you are good.

Spit dribbled from their open mouths, and Jenny felt saliva fall on her chest, rolling between her tits.

God, she loved this.

Linda’s hand dropped to Jenny’s lap, and she began to stroke the girl over her vulva, using her two long middle fingers to caress the warm crevice, already so wet, so eager, and she felt the girl’s hips thrust forward, shaking, shuddering, her thighs squeezed together in the intensity of the pleasure, but she immediately spread her thighs wide again, one leg touching Kristin’s bare leg.

Linda pinched her nipple, rolling it in her fingers, swelling the tip of Jenny’s gland until it became long and hard, and her hand fell to the silver heart between her breasts, and she held it for a second, then continued fondling her new lover’s body, the teenage girl’s tits.

Oh, god, Linda thought. This is so.

She couldn’t find words for what it was so.

Linda raised her legs, and bent them, cradling her lover in her leg-grip, and she turned Jenny around to face her, holding her body tight, and the two silver hearts touched. Jenny squirmed through Lind’s leg grip to straddle Linda’s waist around her belly, her wet pussy gliding over Linda’s navel, and Linda spread her thighs.

Her knees touched Kristin’s calves.

“The little slut’s getting into it,” Tara said to Kristin loudly. She looked down at Emily kissing the inside of her thigh. “Both of them.”

“I don’t blame her,” Kristin said. “Your mom’s so fucking hot.”

Hearing Kristin call her hot sent new waves of arousal through Linda’s already overheated body. Her pelvis jerked forward and backed, pumping up down, looking for something to fill it.

She closed her mouth around Jenny’s wet warm tongue, her lips clamped around the long organ, and she sucked Jenny’s tongue into her mouth, sucking at like a small cock, enjoying it far more, this tongue of her new young lover.

Finally, Linda broke her kiss, and she rubbed the tip of her nose against Jenny’s nose playfully, affectionately. Jenny gave a quick jerk of her head, scrunched her face, and nuzzled her nose right back.

Then she giggled, wiping the corner of Linda’s lip with the flat of her thumb.

“I messed up your lipstick.”

Linda hugged Jenny in a tight squeeze, crushing their boobs together. Jenny felt the air go out of her, Linda was so strong.

“Oh, you terrible thing,” she exclaimed, laughing, letting Jenny go.

Jenny paused, uncertain what to do next, looking at Linda for clues. Linda pushed her boobs forward and pushed on the back of Jenny’s head.

“Suck on my tits, baby. You’ve never kissed a woman there before.”

Jenny’s mouth opened, but instead of sucking the nipple, she kissed around the warm skin and yielding flesh of Linda’s tits, delirious with the texture, taste, and smell of her first tit-worship.

Meanwhile, Emily’s tongue traced the inside flesh of Tara’s left thigh; she knew her mistress loved it when she took it slow, and tonight she meant to take it slow. Tormentingly slow. The bitch turned me queer, she told herself. The little cunt deserves to suffer.

Because she knew.

At all times, even in the middle of her green delirium of lust, she knew that Tara was doing this to her, and that she couldn’t stop it. And that didn’t want to stop it, that never in a million years would she tire of tracing her tonguetip from the bend of Tara’s knee to the joining of her snatch, her beautiful, perfect cunt.

She loved that word so much.

Tara had taught her to love it.

And how to make love to it.

And how to tonguefuck it.

How to taste the nectar of her pussy juices beading on the gorgeous pink flesh ribbons of her gorgeous pink pussy, so worthy to be adored, so marvelous to be worshipped and adored.

But slowly, so slowly.

Because the bitch deserved it.

Then the bitched pushed the back of her head, mashing Emily’s face against her dripping snatch and groaned.

“Oh god, baby, you’re driving me crazy. Lick my pussy already.”

Emily snickered to herself in her sweet, so sweet revenge.

“Lick my pussy with your hot lesbian tongue, you crazy goth dyke.”

That did it.

Emily stretched her tongue as far out as possible and using the flat of her tongue, she lapped and lapped slowly, so slowly, moving from the bottom of Tara’s pink elongation, almost touching the ass her tongue was so close. She moved it up, up, up, sliding along the crevice.

Tara started whining.

“Please. Please, baby. Please.”

Then Emily’s mouth covered Tara’s clitoral hood, and she sucked the soft flesh shallowly into her mouth—before biting down on the tender skin.

Tara yelped, and Emily giggled.

“That’s for turning me queer.”

Jenny had been licking, sucking, kissing and worshipping Linda’s tits for hours, for eons, when she heard Tara’s yelp and Emily’s snicker. She was sucking on Linda’s nipples and tit-flesh as if her live depended on it, suckling like some wild nursing mammal, and the way Linda’s nipples grew and hardened in her mouth made Jenny’s mind hot and dizzy, enthralled with the woman’s breasts, her lover’s tits.

She devoured and kissed, sucked and nibbled, and devoured and kissed again. In the morning, in the next mirror, when Linda stood in front of the mirror, she would marvel at the hickeys the young woman had stained her chest with. But for now, Linda too was lost in the moment, lost in the pleasure, lost in the Sapphic erotica taking place on her body and happening all around her, her daughter’s moans and pleas, Kristin’s relentless kissing of her neck and shoulders, hearing the wet, plopping sounds of Tara’s slave Emily between her daughter’s thighs.

So hot.

So sexy.

So wonderful.

So gloriously and decadently lesbian.

Maybe because her daughter Tara had been revving her up all week with constant reminders of how hot Jenny was, how much she wanted to kiss Jenny’s body, how much she wanted to make love to Jenny, to fuck her, to lick every inch of her delectable body, until Linda was fairly climbing the curtains in heat, maybe because the young woman’s lips on her tits awoke a fire of her own buried deep in embers inside her, she couldn’t say.

However it was, it was: Linda teetered on the edge of an ecstasy she simply had no words for. She didn’t need them. Her groans expressed everything, along with her gyrating and writhing body.

Her left hand slipped between Jenny’s skinny legs, and she stroked the girl’s flat joint with the finger, turned upward, feeling the girl’s wet warmth, feeling the girl’s throbbing clit, her swollen, engorged labia. Linda ran her fingers between the girl’s lips, smooth and silky, and she plunged her middle finger inside, quickly meeting resistance.

Oh god. She hasn’t even. She’s still. No toy? Not even the handle of a hairbrush for god’s sake?

Linda yanked Jenny’s hair close to the back of her head, and the girl, surprised, stared wildly around, wondering where the intoxicating flesh went. Her mouth still moved, for all the world like a fish, and Linda laughed.

“You mean to tell me?”

But Linda might as well have spoken in gibberish for all the sex-addled teenager could understand, her mind was so occupied by the succulent female skin so recently in her mouth.

“You’re intact. You haven’t even.”

The girl still looked stupefied, but her mouth stopped opening and closing.

“Oh, you positive idiot. You still have your cherry, girl. You’re a virgin.”

Understanding slowly soaked through Jenny’s lust-clouded brain.

“I’m a good girl,” she murmured. “I mean. I used to be.”

Linda saw the troubled look in the young woman’s eyes and hated it.

Using both hands to hold the girl’s shoulders, she peered into Jenny’s eyes and spoke to her seriously.

“Oh, honey, you’re so good now. You’re just about the nicest girl I’ve ever met. And I want you to be so good to me, just like you’ve been doing.”

Jenny brightened visibly and nodded.

Linda reached her arm over to the table at the end of the white sofa and retrieved a small pink bullet vibrator, held it close to Jenny’s lips, and smiled.

“Do you want to feel good?”

Jenny nodded, grinning.

“Hm-hm.”

Linda turned the bullet on and began running the smooth object over the girl’s labia, concentrating on the clitoral hood.

Instantly, Jenny’s body stiffened, and she closed her eyes, trying to squeeze her thighs together while thrusting her hips towards Linda.

“That’s it, baby. Let Mommy make you feel better. Let Mommy make you feel good.”

Jenny started making high-pitched noises, matching the high-pitched whine of the vibrator, and Linda carefully reached over to lift the bottle of red wine, bringing it to Jenny’s gasping mouth.

“Drink up,” she urged the girl. “You can’t get enough wine.”

Jenny opened her mouth to the upturned bottle and greedily drank a long gulp of the bittersweet liquid. Wine dribbled down the corners of her mouth and fell on her thighs, rolling onto the white fabric of the couch, staining it red beneath the two women.

By now Jenny must have had three or four glasses of wine. Her head swam, and her body teetered, but she managed to ride the vibrator pressing against her labia, and she sensed her orgasm rising.

Linda leaned against, pressing her large boobs against Jenny’s smaller tits.

The older woman kissed Jenny’s left ear, licking and nibbling her lobe.

“You love pussy so much. You love women so much. Other girls. You’re such a lesbian. So gay. All it takes is a little bit of alcohol, a little taste of wine, and you’re ready to go down on any woman you see. Such a cheap wino dyke slut.”

The wine bottle tilted against her mouth again, and Jenny drank another long pull, despite the growing unrest churning in her guts.

She’d have to get used to that.

She was such a drunk, now.

She loved alcohol.

Women and alcohol.

A total lesbian tramp.

The vibrator continued to do its work, and the alcohol barely dulled the pleasure.

Suddenly Jenny cried out, stiffening and gyrating, writhing on Linda’s lap.

A half a bottle remained, and Linda held it over her breasts, upturning it, letting the rich red liquid pour across her tits. She moved the tip of the bottle over her pussy, pouring out its contents the whole way.

The wine ran down her body, staining the sofa.

“Now lick the wine off my body, you cheap little slut, and don’t stop till you’re at my cunt. I want you to learn how to adore my pussy.”

Kristin couldn’t take any more of that.

“You’re mother’s so fucking crazy,” she gasped at Tara. “So fucking wild and hot and crazy. I want her so bad.”

Tara grinned at her friend.

“Then have her.”

Things got a little complicated after that.

Jenny felt Linda push her head firmly towards her tits, and Jenny’s mouth opened to swallow the nipples—and to lick the sweet, sweet alcohol off Linda’s body. Jenny’s own body trembled unceasingly, and her heart hammered away, beating wildly. Linda’s hands pushed Jenny’s head down, and Jenny’s tongue swept from her breasts to her belly, circling her navel, and licking the dripping trail of red wine, sticky and sweetly acrid.

Then Linda pushed Jenny of her lap, so that the teenager was once again kneeling between the older woman’s spread thighs, crouching like a hungry tiger between the woman’s widely parted legs, Linda’s slit showing lewdly ragged, her gaping lips like fat fleshly wings, wet with her secretions and Pinot.

Or Merlot.

Or Malbec.

Or Chianti.

Jenny forgot what they’d been drinking, and it didn’t much matter.

She knew only one thing: she was thirsting for pussy juice now, starving for the first taste of her first pussy. Her mouth hung open, and her bleared eyes, bloodshot and red, focused unsteadily on the open vulva in front of her. Then she saw Linda’s hand reach down and spread her already wide lips wider between the inverted V of her index and middle finger.

Linda pulled her fingers up and squeezed her pussy, and Jenny groaned when she saw the folded clitoral hood bulge, wet and naked and pink, between the woman’s long fingers.

“It’s time, baby dyke. It’s time to taste my pussy, girl.”

Linda’s other hand nudged the back of Jenny’s head, but the drunken whore’s mouth was already falling greedily on the woman’s slit.

The moment Jenny’s lips and tongue touched the hot skin, so wet, so soft, so utterly vulnerable and puissant, Jenny’s mind found peace. This was her church and her home and her worship. She would have communion here and sacrament, and her sisters would share their bodies like bread.

Even that little voice of protest in her head, so muffled and quiet now, let out a little groan, but it was a groan filled with longing and need, and its little bent body, huddling alone in the dark, began to grind against itself.

She had never tasted anything like it. It was so sweet and soft, at once pungent and bland, pale in its vibrancy, and earth-deep in its richness. The presence of wine only added to its voluptuous and erstwhile forbidden luxuriance.

The moment Jenny’s tongue tentatively touched the tips, the ragged edges, of Linda’s hot cunt, pleasure engulfed her mind, and her tongue dipped deeper inside the honeypot of Linda’s scalding vulva opening onto the deep channel of her volcanic vagina.

Soon she began to lick earnestly, her head bobbing as she licked at Linda’s pussy ferociously, her eyes almost rolling behind her lids. She moved her hands to touch Linda’s thighs, her left hand caressing the soft skin and her right hand stroking the yielding flesh. The taste of pussy in her mouth, the touch and texture of a woman’s skin, the smell of pussy in her nose, the scent of a woman, all this changed Jenny utterly and wholly.

“That’s it, baby,” Linda cooed, “worship my pussy. You love pussy so much. You’ll never get enough pussy now, pussy will be on your mind for every second of every hour of every day, you can’t stop thinking about women. About their bodies. About how they taste. About how you can please them. Because that’s all you’re good for. To please women. To make women cum with your mouth. To make them cum with your tongue and your fingers. To make us cum. Us women.

“You’re such an eager slut for pussy now, Jenny, aren’t you?”

The words sank into Jenny’s engorged brain, she but she didn’t hear them. She didn’t need to. She had a pussy to adore with her mouth.

Jenny’s mouth was still on Linda’s pussy when she felt the couch shake above her head. Glancing up, she saw Kristin leaning over to clasp her arms around Linda’s neck. She heard the loud, wet sounds of the two women kissing, and she felt Tara’s body slide closer to her mother, Tara’s legs touched Linda’s legs.

The movement caused Emily to stop kissing Tara’s pussy. Still kneeling, she sat a little way away from her mistress, her palms flat on her knees, waiting for Tara’s instruction.

“That’s okay, Emily. Go get yourself ready for your friend. I know how much you’ve been just dying to fuck her.”

Kristin’s body was turned towards Linda, and her hip still rested on Tara’s lap. Tara listened to Kristin and Linda kissing, and she watched with detached bemusement as her friend and lover made out with her mother. She ran her hand slowly across Kristin’s hip, enjoying the smooth warm skin.

She looked curiously at Kristin’s small tits like pears whose peach-colored nipples, hard and jaunty, brushed against her mother’s full boobs, areolas big and dark and nipples long and rock-hard. Tara watched Kristin’s hands move up to grasp the massive tits, and she heard her mother moan into Kristin’s mouth.

Spit dribbled down their chins and fell on Linda’s chest.

Tara slipped down to the carpet, turning Kristin’s body just enough to be able to rest her face between the girl’s thighs.

At that moment, Emily returned, a large black dildo protruding from just above her groin, attached to a wide black leather belt, which proved to really be crotchless bottoms.

Tara looked over her shoulder.

“Get behind your slutty girlfriend, baby. You get to take her virginity tonight.”

Emily’s eyes were red, narrow slits, and it was obvious she had taken another hit while gone to get dressed for fucking Jenny.

A huge smile crossed Emily’s face, and Tara laughed.

“Permagrin,” she chuckled. “You’re so wasted.”

Emily just continued to grin as she stroked her black cock, running lube up and down her shaft. She was so stoned and horny, and she was finally, finally going to fuck Jenny. She’d always wanted to fuck Jenny.

Both Tara and Kristin said so.

Inside the heaven of her mind, Jenny barely registered the world around her.

She heard Tara mention losing her virginity, she heard the girl talk about Emily fucking her, but nothing really made sense. Rather, very little of it carried weight. She was so intent on Linda’s cunt, so wide and gaping and wet now, flowing with her juices, her lovely secretions, that she couldn’t possibly care what Emily and Tara got up to.

Then she felt Emily’s hands on her hips, adjusting her behind; she felt Emily nudge her thighs apart with her knees; then she felt Emily’s hand on her cunt, spreading a wet lubricant over her cunt hanging between her legs.

A hard object touched her pussy.

Jenny almost broke her mouth’s contact with Linda’s molten vulva, but at that precise moment, Linda’s thighs clamped the sides of her head, and her pussy fucked hard against Jenny’s face, hammering her as Linda jerked and thrashed and fucked in a wild wet orgasm.

And it was wet.

Linda’s vice grip on Jenny’s face relaxed, Jenny pulled her mouth away, and somehow Linda managed to get her hand around Kristin’s body to rub her clit wildly, fucking her cunt with two, then three fingers before bringing them out again to fan her clit at a blazing speed; then her pussy erupted, spraying Jenny’s face.

Jenny opened her mouth to catch some of the liquid, and the little voice of protest inside, wantonly rubbing its body in the recesses of Jenny’s mind, opened its mouth to catch every drop.

Yes, yes, yes, it said, it shouted; there would be no further protest from that night on.

Then a sharp pain tore through Jenny’s cunt, but before she could pull her hips away, Emily grabbed her fiercely and rammed her pussy with her long black cock.

“That’s it,” Tara said. “Fuck your new bitch, baby. Fuck her good. Fuck that tight pussy of hers. Make the bitch scream.”

Jenny’s pussy was tight.

Emily struggled to sink her shaft into her friend’s cunt, as wet and lubed as both it and her cock were. But she urged her dildo deeper, taking it slow and gentle despite Tara’s words.

She’d make Jenny scream, all right.

She’d fuck her deep and fuck her long, but in the meantime, she’d get her friend used to it, used to huge cock in her cunt, her slutty dyke whore cunt.

Emily’s hips moved forward, and she could feel her own ass tighten as she thrust into Jenny. She lifted one of her hands from Jenny’s hips and slipped it between the gap of her crotchless leather panties. She sank a finger into her steaming hot cunt, her engorged and swollen lips sucking her finger deep.

She sighed.

She was so wet.

So wet and horny.

Emily looked at Linda and Kristin on the sofa.

By now, Kristin was straddling Linda, kneeling over Linda’s lap with her knees on the couch cushions on either side of the woman’s body. Emily saw Tara at her mother’s side, stroking herself while leaning into her mother’s shoulder, looking with heavy eyes at Emily.

Tara’s huge tits heaved, and Tara’s mouth hung open.

And one hand was clutching the green bird between her trembling tits.

A green cloud settled over Tara’s mind, and she saw nothing but green, felt nothing but a green heat rising in her and around her and over her. Her body was on fire with a green lust, and all she desired, all she needed was the touch of a woman’s body, the kiss of a woman’s lips, the taste of a woman’s cunt. She leaned further into her mother, fucking her pussy with her fingers, her fingers making wet, plopping noises as she fucked and fucked her desperate pussy.

She massaged her tits, pinching her nipples with her left hands, squeezing her tits, and she groaned loudly, a groan that rose in pitch to a whine, she was mewling like a kitten.

The sound of Kristin and Linda kissing roared in her ears, shaking her body and mind. She looked up, her lips were so close to Kristin’s lips. So close to Linda’s lips.

It was easier to think that way.

Linda’s lips.

Hot Linda.

Sexy Linda.

Lesbian Linda, so hot for teenage girls like Tara.

Tara’s lips inched closer, and then they touched Kristin’s mouth. And they touched Linda’s mouth, both women still passionately kissing, tongues probing each other’s mouth, lips hungrily devouring each other.

Kristin’s mouth lifted off Linda’s mouth and met Tara’s, and Tara kissed her best friend, her lover, and her slave. Then Kristin pulled away, and in an eternal instant, a moment of timeless equilibrium, Tara waited.

Tara waited.

Then Linda’s mouth met Tara’s mouth, and the green lust burned a hot red.

All that hunger for Tara which Linda had been feeling ever since Tara’s 18th birthday exploded from Linda like waters from behind a broken dam. Tara’s mind was dizzy.

She was so used to being the one above the green mist, but now the green mist surrounded her, and the voice of the bird compelled her.

Incest, it said. Mother and daughter together, mother and daughter as lovers. Mistresses.

Tara saw a vision in the green mist, she and her mother on a balcony overlooking a room of writhing women, naked and groaning. Linda and Tara masturbating each other as the looked out over the naked Sapphic orgy.

Then the vision passed, and Tara sucked on the tongue in her mouth.

Emily stared at mother and daughter making out, mother lifting her hands to caress her daughter’s breasts, and daughter moving her hands to caress her mother’s face.

Kristin slipped to one side of Linda, and when Linda stopped kissing Tara, Kristin leaned over and pushed Tara down to kneel between Linda’s legs.

“I wanted to,” Kristin confessed, “but now I think I just want to watch you eat your mother’s pussy to another orgasm. Linda’s so fucking hot. Especially when she cums.”

Jenny had to move back just a little. She was so close to Linda’s pussy, Tara had to push her back to squeeze in.

Emily’s mind spun.

She was so high, so stoned, so horny.

But watching Tara go down on her own mother was something she couldn’t have expected in a million years.

Her eyes darted from Tara to Linda.

Linda yelped when Tara’s tongue touched her between her pussy lips, rolling slow up the valley of her hot flesh, rolling down again, tracing the edges of her swollen labia with her tongue.

Tara knew how to take it slow, knew how to drive a woman crazy, and now she was going to drive her mother crazy, because her mother was a woman, and Tara in her green mist was fashioned to make sweet love to every woman’s pussy. Like servant, like mistress.

Jenny, backing away, shoved her ass deeper into Emily’s black cock, and Emily, no longer caring to take it slowly, jammed Jenny’s cunt with a sudden sharp thrust, and Jenny’s hymen split, letting the hard shaft sink to its depth.

The pain was intense, but Jenny’s mind was so occupied by Tara, Linda, and Kristin that she barely noticed the discomfort.

Emily continued to fuck her friend from behind, and Jenny liked it; it felt good. It felt good to be fucked by a woman, to finally be fucked by a woman, to give her virginity to a woman. To let a woman have her special place, so sweet, so personal, so hers. And now shared. Shared with Emily. Shared with her best friend.

Stoned, slutty Emily.

Soon, Jenny’s breath became ragged and short, and short, guttural grunts came from her throat. She was getting fucked, and she was getting fucked good.

Jenny watched Kristin making out with Linda while Linda moaned into Kristin’s mouth, her body evidently aroused by Tara’s skillful ministrations. She slowly became aware that she was thrusting her backside at Emily’s huge cock, moving backward as the girl thrust forward. She could feel her pussy suck the cock inside her.

Time stood still.

The video of Emily and Kristin had long stopped playing, and the only sounds filling the room belonged to the three women panting and groaning on the sofa and the two best friends fucking on the floor, five lesbians moaning in a carnal pleasure of lust, mindless now, wanting only to cum and to cum again.

Kristin’s legs were spread, and her pussy danced on the edge of the sofa; she was rubbing herself frantically, no longer kissing Linda, but leaning away to masturbate looking at the scene below and beside her.

Jenny crawled to get between Kristin’s legs, Emily following behind her, still thrust her big black cock, and then Jenny’s mouth covered Kristin’s pussy. Kristin looked down, smiled at the girl, removed her hand and patted her mound.

“Go ahead, baby. I know you want it. You always want it, don’t you?”

Jenny nodded.

She always wanted it; she always wanted her mouth on some girl’s pussy.

Suddenly, Linda stiffened and groaned. Her groan rose to a shriek, and she started screaming as her daughter’s tongue on her twat sent her to another body-wracking orgasm.

Then Kristin started to cum, and then Jenny felt her orgasm coming, and then Emily, her hand in her wet snatch, started cumming, too.