Sally's Drunken Seduction

by Becky

The first time I was seduced by a girl, and my conflicting feelings during the act.

It had been less than 90 minutes since Nicole first came into my home, and I had already seduced her, albeit without her knowledge. I could only sit there on the dining chair, all spaced out. I didn't even know what to think. I had just “abused” a 6 year old child, and I didn't even feel any remorse. All sorts of questions went racing through my head. What had I just done? And what had I become?

There are moments, like these, in one's life that puts an entire lifetime in perspective. Here, I was, an upright, God-fearing, educated woman who had broken the biggest sexual taboo of them all. And I was okay with it. My rational brain was not — but my heart was. That conflict didn't overwhelm me at the time, but it certainly brought back to life a thousand memories, a thousand other battles that I had fought when younger. But none more clearly than this one I am about to tell you — the one that might have been the start of my journey to what I thought I had become now — a lover of little girls:

My childhood wasn't an unhappy one. It wasn't all milk and honey, but it wasn't bad either. The bad part was that my mom had left us when I was only 2, but my dad provided us with the best life under the circumstances. We lived paycheck to paycheck, and in a very modest apartment, but we weren't poor. My brothers Matt was 4 years elder to me, and Kyle was 4 years younger so were perfectly spaced — though that meant that I didn't really have much in common with either while growing up.

My aunt (dad's elder sister) lived only a few blocks away in a plush neighborhood — and they were rich. She had two daughters and I got along very well with them.

Things changed pretty rapidly for me when I was 11 and got run over my a speeding motorcyclist. Well, he ran over only my foot — but that was bad enough. It was badly crushed and I had a cast running up all the way to my knees and it was quite painful. Everyone thought it in my best interest if I spent the few weeks recuperating at my aunt's house rather than my own home, as it had no stairs, and there were plenty of people around to help me during the day if I needed any. All this was fine by me.

I moved into Sally's room — she was 17 at the time — because apparently she was the most responsible of all the girls. Sarah was 9 and more precocious than most kids here age — maybe even on the verge of being a bully.

I would mostly lay around all day as I couldn't walk at all the first couple of weeks and read a bunch of books — which I loved doing. I wasn't much interested in television, and would only watch when Sally would get home from school and switch it on. We shared the same bed, and she really did take care of me — she was the sweetest!

Things were pretty uneventful the first few days, punctuated only by my constant whines of agony when I was in pain — which was pretty much all the time. I was filled to my gills with pain meds and was groggy pretty much most of the first 5 days or so. Which is why I didn't really trust my senses when I noticed funny stuff happening right beside me!

Sally was not a big girl — about average height, not petite, but slim but she did turn a few heads with her straight black hair, and amazingly green eyes. She had gone after her mother, who even at 52 was gorgeous and everyone in our family only talked about how well she had aged.

My nights would usually not bring me uninterrupted sleep and I would drift in and out every hour or so — mostly the effect of the pain meds. It wasn't until the third night that I started noticing some rhythmic movement beside me. It wasn't much, just a very gentle rocking, and I initially dismissed it as a figment of my drugged imagination. The obvious didn't occur to me. Not until the sixth or seventh night (hard to remember which) — which I definitely know was a Friday. Sally was back late — partying with her friends — she had a midnight curfew and she was back a few minutes before that. I was too young to know any better, but now I can definitely say that she had had more than a few drinks.

She didn't even switch on the light, and simply slid into bed beside me. I was half-asleep, but woke up fully when I realized that not only had she hugged me close (as she sometime often did), but her hand had firmly slid between my legs, right next to my pussy! I was wearing a loose dress, which is what I wore all day since it was too much trouble changing every night with my painful leg. I simply froze. I didn't know what to think. It felt a bit uncomfortable since I hadn't experienced that before — a little girl's cunny was off- limits I had been taught. Yet it felt strangely comforting — the warmth of her hands barely brushing my panties, and I felt myself inadvertently squeezing my legs ever so gently.

We lay this way for a few minutes, but what seemed like an eternity to me then. Of course, I couldn't even think of sleeping then — not with her hands firmly between my legs. But all my “proper” upbringing was telling me that that couldn't have been right. I then decided to roll over so that Sally would be forced to remove her hand. This worked out fine, except that now my face was barely a couple of inches form sally — who seemed to be drifting in and out of her drunken stupor.

I don't know how long we slept, but it couldn't have been too long before I felt Sally hugging me again and pulling me even closer. She mumbled something under her breath but I couldn't make out what she said. We were as close as two people could get. Out bodies virtually stuck together, and her arms holding me firmly close to her. I could feel her ample breasts press against my chest and thighs and legs pressed against mine. It was then that I felt her hand moving over my back — very slowly — but in a rhythmic, circular fashion — from my neck to the small of my back and back again. It felt good. It felt comforting. It felt — well very pleasant — there weren't any sexual thoughts in my 11 year old mind that I could think in terms of.

As her hands moved faster on my back, I could feel myself being pressed even tighter against her chest. Her breasts almost poked into me, but they felt warm — and once again comforting. Now that I think about it, maybe it was that I hadn't really been hugged very often by women — I didn't have a mom who would do that and no sisters around the house. Maybe it was something maternal about feeling a woman's body close to mine that I found so reassuring.

Not that I was thinking about those complex emotions in my tiny brain. In fact I could think of hardly anything when she moved her lips on mine and kissed me. And yes, it was a kiss. I was only 11, but I knew what a kiss was. Especially when I was on the receiving end. Her warm lips engulfed mine and I could only feel their wetness and I do remember feeling they were exceptionally hot at the time. She kissed me for not more than a few seconds but those weren't too pleasant to begin with. The first feeling that I had was one of repulsion. Her breath smelt of alcohol, and that wasn't a smell I was used to. I just wanted her to get off of me. But before I knew it I was lost in her kiss — not in a romantic way, but simply because it was so different, so new, so sudden.

This seemed to have woken her up completely, and I could see her bright red drunken eyes, and she smiled. She didn't seem to get the importance of what a strange experience it was for me. Her drunken mind wasn't thinking right I guess.

“Did you like that Becky?”

“Uh..Could we just sleep?”, is all I could muster.

“In a little while maybe?”, and she smiled at me again.

Without further ado, she pulled me close again and this time proceeded to kiss me on my neck. I could feel her hands all over me, and as gentle the first kiss was, this was getting more and more action heavy. Her hands, which were gentle at first felt rough now, her kisses though felt warm. She got up on her knees and lifted my dress. Her hands caressed my tummy, my chest, and she wouldn't stop. Her lips meanwhile were devouring my neck and face.

“I love you Becky, you are so sweet”

“I love you too Sally”..what?? Is this all my 11 year old brain could muster, even while still confused on whether I was liking it or hating it??

This seemed to set her off completely. She lifted the dress completely off my head, and took off her shirt and kicked her jeans off. Both of us were only in our panties now — though she was still wearing her bra. She caressed my lips with her fingers, inserting one of them into my mouth. I still wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel. The effect of my meds, sleepiness and utter confusion of the moment might have meant my tacit consent to her alcohol-ravaged mind.

“Its okay Becky. You know I love you right?

“Yes...its okay”, I said — or something like that (too long ago to remember exact words)– again a response that would have encouraged her, though I wasn't sure that I wanted to do that.

She kissed and caressed me for a long time — maybe herself unsure how far she should go. I just lay there, not knowing what to think or feel, and alternately feeling uncomfortable and tingly and happy in quick succession.

Over the course of a few minutes, the happy and tingly moments outnumbered the uncomfortable ones by a big margin. As time went on, I felt more and more relaxed. It must have been over half an hour by now, and I was feeling actually good. Feeling her warm hands all over me, feeling her kiss me all over — and now my little mind rationalized it by thinking that this wasn't any different from all the kisses and hugs I would get on my birthday or any other special occasion. I started enjoying them — and I started giving her back some of her kisses whenever her face made the round trip back to mine, from having been to my tummy and chest.

“Look at your perky little tits”, she giggled each time she would kiss them. These were small butterfly kisses, not the long overtly sexual ones.

“You have much bigger ones”

“Do you want to see them Becky?”

I just smiled back at her, as she switched on the bedside lamp, and undid her bra.

I can still remember the yellow light from the lamp falling on her perfect ample breasts. They were a sight to behold even then, even to an 11 year old. I could only stare at them like one stares at an expensive art curio. She moved her hands to her breasts and gently started massaging them. While still on her knees, she held my hand and moved it to her breasts. My hand sandwiched between her warm firm hands and her warm, firm breasts. The one lasting memory I have of that encounter is that everything on her body felt like a furnace! And her breasts were no exception. She moved my hands over one, and then the other one. I could feel her erect nipples on my palms.

“Squeeze them”

And I did. This made me giggle real hard, and for several minutes all we did was laugh and giggle as I caressed her breasts. This was a real fun moment for me. She let her hands go and I still kept caressing her breasts with just one hand.

Then she went quiet. Sally closed her eyes and moved her hands to her tummy, caressing herself as she had caressed me. I was too busy to notice anything but her breasts and my hands massaging them. She raised herself on her knees and slid her hand inside her panties. I still didn't notice then.

“Keep going hon, this is so good”

This was when I saw her fingers moving inside her panties. Her hips rocking back and forth very slowly. Again, I was too flabbergasted to react — and so I kept doing what I was doing. Her rocking got harder and harder and because of this, my hand would slip away from her breasts, and she would pull them back — all the while her eyes closed. It seemed to my young mind as if something had her possessed as the whole bed started to shake, and she wouldn't stop. Her fingers worked furiously inside her panties, until she seemed to squeeze her butt together and what seemed to me at the time, have a couple of spasms. She then pulled her hand out of her panties, and I could see her juices glistening on her fingers. She moved her fingers to my lips and ran them over my lips. I could feel her wetness run across my lips.

“You are the best Becky”

And as suddenly as it had started, it ended. She lay limp on the bed, shut off the lamp, and pulled me close. Within seconds she was fast asleep.

And I lay awake in bed all night, trying to make sense of it all. Much, much more happened that year and beyond, but this was the moment I found myself in when thinking of what I had just done to Nicole. Everything had come full circle.

As I looked at beautiful Nicole across the room, I couldn't help but feel so totally drawn to her. I wanted to be much more than what Sally had later become to me (more about that in later posts). I wasn't in love with Nicole yet, but I wanted to be. I wanted to love her, to be everything for her, and for us to be lovers. I almost couldn't bear to look at her then, and so proceeded to continue my reading that had been so pleasantly interrupted by events of the past hour or so.

“There's no tissues in the bathroom”, I heard her scream from the bathroom. I hadn't noticed when she had gotten up to go. Thats what she called toilet paper — tissues.

I took a fresh roll from the master bedroom closet and took it to her.

“Do you want me to wipe you sweetie?” I said this more in hope than anything else.

“Yes, please Becky”. Apparently she wasn't potty-trained too well, or she was spoilt! But I would know the real reason later.

More to come...