The Lost Girl Game, Chapter 2

by Naughty Mommy

They gave the underthings back to Kelly, and she replaced them in the bag.

"Is that all?" asked Angela. "Just the bras and panties, or did you get some other things too?"

"Well, we," my daughter blushed, "um, we got another pair of, um, panties and a bra, but I, I'm wearing them."

"You are?" The woman cocked her head as she studied Kelly's body, making no effort to hide the fact that she was picturing my 12-year-old girl in her scanty underwear. "Ooh, how sexy!"

Our conversation became slightly less scandalous for the next few minutes. I asked Bambi what grade she was in, what her favorite subjects were, what kind of grades she got, and so on. She told me she was in the 4th grade, she liked recess and lunch best, and she got all A's.

Angela smiled proudly at her child, but I noticed that she also kept glancing at Kelly, running her eyes up and down her body.

I was only taking small sips of my wine as we chatted. It was amazingly good and, I assumed, very pricy, but I did not want to get tipsy before driving home. I figured we would stay a few more minutes, then we would get going, and this time we would not be deterred.

But just as I took what I expected to be my last sip of the delicious white wine, and started to set my still half-filled glass down on the expensive-looking coffee table, little Bambi handed her glass of Coke to her mom and bounded over to me, hopping onto my lap.

She threw her arms around my neck, squeezing me tight. "Please don't go, Miss Sharon! You were so very very nice to help me, and I like you so much, and I want to be friends! Please don't go!"

"Oh, honey, honey, I..." I patted her back, then gently tried to remove her arms from around my neck. But she would not let go.

"Please don't leave us! I want you to stay and be friends!"

"Bambi, now please, dear." Angela quickly came over to sit next to me on the luxuriously embroidered sofa.

She stroked her daughter's arm. "Darling, don't worry, I'm sure Kelly and Angela want to be your friends. They won't leave right away if we just ask them nicely. I think they wouldn't mind staying just a few minutes longer."

"Well, I," I began, "I guess..."

Angela patted my bare knee, and as she did, she managed -- was it deliberate? -- to push the layers of my skirt a few inches further up my thigh. She winked at me and said, in a stage whisper, "She just loves making new friends and can't ever bear to see them go. A few more minutes won't hurt."

I nodded back at Angela, agreeing to say a short time longer.

The woman raised her hand from my leg to her daughter's little bottom. She fondled the girl's buttocks, squeezing them in a way that seemed decidedly un-motherlike to me. "There, now, my sweet little girl, they're going to stay. Aren't you glad? Won't you say thank you to Miss Sharon?"

Bambi suddenly started kissing me on the neck, while whispering, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" Her hands began caressing my shoulders, and although she was just a little girl, her grip was strong. It felt almost like the work of an expert masseuse, as if she had been trained to give sensual pleasure.

At the same time, Angela got up and went back to where Kelly was sitting. The woman sat on the arm of the chair, parting her legs slightly, her dress hiking up over her firm, tanned thighs. She placed her hand on my daughter's shoulder and asked, "You don't want to go running off right away, do you, sweetheart?"

"Well, I... I guess not."

"I'm so glad. You're such a beautiful young lady, and I would love to get to know you better." Angela's hand slowly moved from Kelly's shoulder to her neck, where she gently caressed her.

I could tell that Kelly was feeling nervous and uncomfortable. I wasn't at all sure what was going on, but it certainly did seem strange. I thought I should stop it, and yet -- and yet, the way Bambi was kissing my neck and massaging me felt so delicious, so perfect, I couldn't find the strength to push her away.

Instead I found myself putting my arms around her, rubbing her warm back, and cooing, "There now, precious, that's my good girl."

I gave Kelly a quick look, trying to reassure her that we would go along with this nutty game for just a few more minutes, and then we would leave.

But Kelly wasn't looking at me. She wasn't looking at anything. Her eyes were closed and her head was resting on the back of the chair.

Angela was using both hands now to massage my daughter's neck and shoulders. "That's right, you just relax now, darling," I heard her say.

She whispered something else to Kelly, so softly that I couldn't hear, and then, as I watched, she leaned in and gave my daughter a gentle kiss on the cheek.

I began to panic. Was this woman attempting to seduce my little girl, right in front of me? How dare she!

In my mind, I was prepared to stand up, to shout in protest, to take Kelly firmly by the hand and leave immediately.

But that was only my mind. My body, which was responding quite happily to Bambi's caresses and kisses, and my lust, which was growing stronger and more passionate by the second, were making just the opposite argument.

That part of me, my lust, my libido, was intensely excited by what was happening, utterly thrilled by it!

I wanted to have this sexy little girl, this 9 year-old woman/child continue touching me and kissing me. I wanted her to go even further! And I also wanted to see my own little girl, my hot 12 year-old daughter, engaged in a passionate embrace with a mature, beautiful woman like Angela.

"... lovely girl ... beautiful skin ..." I could hear just snatches of the conversation between Angela and Kelly "... 7th grade ... health class ..."

I was torn. I wanted two separate things, one that I knew was right -- to get up and leave -- and one that I knew was wrong, or that seemed to me like it should be wrong -- to have sex with an underage girl, a child, while watching my own daughter have lesbian sex with this beautiful blonde woman.

"... they match ... they're pink ..." and then I heard "... let me see them ..."

Oh my god, what was Angela doing? Was she...?

It was hard for me to see much, because Bambi's sweet kisses, so warm and soft on my neck, were now moving to my cheeks. She held my face in her little hands and kissed me all over, murmuring something or perhaps just purring in pleasure. All over my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, my eyes, my chin, my lips...

But there, just across from me, did I actually see Angela raising my daughter's crop top, and pulling it over her head? Did I see Kelly lifting her arms, allowing Angela to remove her shirt? Is that what I saw?

Did I catch a glimpse of Angela looking at Kelly's hot pink WonderBra, complimenting her on it, and then Kelly raising her face to Angela, smiling brightly at her, and -- and was Angela touching my daughter's cheeks, telling her how pretty she was? Was she bringing her own mouth down to -- to kiss my daughter's lips?!?

But how could I possibly find the willpower to stop this from happening? Did I even want to stop it? How could I ever get up and protest when Bambi's lips... her lips... felt so heavenly on mine?

She was kissing me. This darling child, this 9 year-old little girl, this magical blonde sylph with blue eyes I could lose myself in forever, was kissing me deeply, wetly, her mouth on mine, her warm tongue exploring, teasing, tantalizing me.

I gave in all the way. Instead of just hugging Bambi, I began to stroke her urgently with my hands, expressing my need, my desire, my wanton lust.

I ran my hands up and down her back, and then to her bottom -- I squeezed her ass cheeks the way her mother had, the way a lover touches her lover (could it be???) and as I did, Bambi responded. She arched her back, pressing herself into me. I felt her flat little chest against my breasts, and I wanted there to be nothing between us. I wanted her skin on my skin. She began thrusting her pelvis, grinding herself into my lap, as if trying to burrow her way inside me.

God, I wanted this girl. I wanted to have her, to take her. I wanted her to have me. I wanted her to suck my nipples, and I wanted her to lick my pussy, and I wanted her to fuck me with her little fingers. And I wanted more. I wanted to see her naked, to look at her hairless pubis, to part her puffy little lips with my fingers and put my tongue down there. I wanted to lick her virgin vagina and suck her little clit and make this dewy child come in my mouth!

What about my daughter? Was she still enjoying Angela's affections, or had she changed her mind.

I thought to myself, if Kelly is unhappy, if Kelly wants to leave, then we will leave. She comes first.

But that did not seem to be an issue at the moment.

As I separated myself briefly from Bambi's sweet mouth so I could look over at the other two, what I saw was Kelly slowly unzipping Angela's dress. The seductress was perched on my daughter's lap, and she was looking over at Bambi and me with hooded eyes, a gaze that expressed both passion and deep satisfaction.

Kelly smiled to herself and licked her lips as she finished pulling the zipper down. She raised her hands and pushed the blonde's dress off her shoulders, watching it fall to her lap. She seemed to inhale deeply as she ran her hands gently over Angela's lightly freckled back, and then, I saw her lean forward and kiss and lick -- yes, lick! -- the older woman's bare skin.

Angela shivered when she felt my daughter's mouth on her back. She clutched at her breasts and squeezed them through her bra. I could see her pinching her nipples hard.

Then something else took place.

Angela appeared to make a decision. She got to her feet, stepping out of her dress, and turned to Kelly, extending her hand. Kelly accepted it and stood up. The two of them came over to us.

Angela put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. Bambi pulled away from me, sitting up. Her little face was flushed and sweaty. Her lips were wet from kissing and red with my lipstick. It occurred to me that my own mouth must be a mess, with lipstick smeared all around. But then I realized, no, that's not a bad thing; it's how a lover looks after she kisses her lover. That actually made me smile.

"Come, my children. Let's go in to the bedroom."

Bambi obediently climbed off my lap. Taking one of my hands, with Angela taking the other, they raised my to my feet.

Bambi led the way. I followed her, Angela was behind me, and Kelly followed Angela. We all held hands as we went to the next room.

It was a huge, high-ceilinged bedroom, filled with beautiful ornate furnishings, apparently all antiques. The bed, on the right, was very large, even bigger than king-size. Where did they get the sheets for it, I asked myself -- and then I answered myself that in a luxury suite like this, everything could be made to order for guests who could afford to pay any price.

Ahead of us was a giant bay window, heavily curtained, admitting only a sliver of sunlight, leaving the room dimly lit, lending it a dusky, romantic ambience. I suddenly remembered noticing those big curved windows, way up at the top of the building, and now I knew what they looked like from the inside.

To the left was a bathroom, or maybe a bathroom suite would be a more accurate description, because it appeared to contain several rooms. In the center I could see a large jacuzzi-type tub, and I found myself wondering, is it big enough to fit four women at the same time -- or, should I say, to fit two women and two girls? I hoped we would find out.

Scattered around the room were various other pieces of expensive-looking furniture, but Bambi ignored everything else and headed straight for the bed -- which was already open, apparently in anticipation of activity.

The little girl indicated that I should sit down, and then she directed her mother to sit next to me.

"First you kiss," she said, pointing to Angela and me, "while we watch. And then we'll kiss while you watch. Okay?"

Bambi looked over at Kelly as she asked this question, and my daughter nodded eagerly. She seemed quite excited about the prospect of seeing her mother kiss another woman.

Before anything else could happen, however, I reached out and took my daughter's hand. "Are you okay with this?" I asked her. "Is everything all right?"

"Uh-huh," she beamed, her eyes joyful. "Fine!"

Angela put her hand over ours, where I was holding Kelly's. "That's nice," she said. "I like that you're always checking on each other. No one should ever be expected to do anything that doesn't make them happy."

I noticed Bambi nodding in agreement

"Right, sweetie?" asked Angela.

"Right, Mommy. Now please start kissing."

"Okay, baby. Whatever you say."

Angela turned toward me. I was still fully clothed, but she was wearing only her bra and panties: white, lacy, and sheer, a matching set. Top quality, I was sure, and very expensive.

"Wait," I said, putting my hand up. "Let me get as comfortable as you are."

Not waiting for a response, I quickly pulled my loose top over my head and tossed it aside, then stood and shimmied out of my skirt. It had an elastic waistband and came off in a jiffy. I stepped out of my flat shoes, and then I was clad in just a black bra and panties. They were matching (I thanked myself inwardly for being a stickler about that), and stylishly sexy, though no doubt far less pricy than our lovely hostess's.

"Go, Mom!" approved Kelly as Bambi clapped and Angela smiled at me, rubbing her hands together.

"Now," I asked, grinning, as I sat down on the bed next to Angela, "where were we?"

"Right here," the woman purred, sliding an arm around my shoulder and pulling me to her. Just before her mouth met mine, she paused, her lips parted and wet, to glance into my eyes. Then she looked down at my mouth and began devouring me.

As I mentioned earlier, I don't get the chance to have sex, especially with women, nearly as often as I would like. It's really only been a handful of times in the ten years since my divorce. The few women I have bedded have generally had even less experience with lesbian sex than me, so I'm still something of a beginner.

However, as soon as Angela started kissing me, I knew I was in very expert hands. Her kissing was amazing. It was like having sex mouth to mouth. She would taunt and tease with her tongue, then plunge in deeply, making me shiver with excitement. Her full lips toyed with mine, nibbling them, sucking them, until I wanted to open myself up in every way possible to her.

It sounds ridiculous to say this, but I was so caught up in the exquisite sensations of being kissed by that beautiful, sexy woman that I momentarily lost all sense of where I was. My eyes were closed, of course, and the room was quiet. I had no idea how much time was passing, what day it was, or even where we were. All I wanted was her. Her mouth and her body.

My hands were on her warm back, clutching, kneading, almost pleading for her to give me more, and to take more from me. As her tongue bathed mine in hot caresses, I searched for the hook on Angela's bra, to unfasten it, and release her breasts so my hands could touch them.

But the hook was not in the back. It must be in front. I move my hands around, and --

"No, not yet! Just kissing."

Startled, I opened my eyes, pulling my mouth away from the blonde's. It had not been her voice that I'd heard, obviously, but her daughter's.

I'd totally forgotten where I was and what we were doing. I shook my head, trying to get back to reality.

Bambi repeated. "Just kissing, okay? No more clothes off yet."

The two girls, Bambi and Kelly, were standing side by side, holding hands. Bambi was still completely dressed, including her little boots, while Kelly was wearing her tight jeans and her tennis shoes, but had her top off.

My slender little daughter looked adorable, at 5'2" and just over 100 pounds, with flawless white skin, big green eyes, curly red hair, and her developing breasts pushed up so invitingly inside the hot pink bra. If there was ever a more alluring 12 year-old girl, I don't know who she could be. I saw my daughter again at that moment the same way I'd seen her inside the dressing room -- as a sexual creature that I wanted, very badly.

I think Kelly realized this time, for the first time, what my look meant. Her eyes widened, but she didn't look scared. In fact, she smiled at me, somewhat coyly, even flirtatiously.

"Hey, remember me?" It was Angela.

I shook my head again. So easy it was for me to float away in any direction. Had the woman put something in my wine?

I looked back at her. She held my face in her hands, admiring me. She kissed me on the cheek, on the nose, on the forehead, on the eyelids, on the chin, on the lips. I was ready for, and would have welcomed, another long, wet session of her kisses. But this time she only kissed my mouth two or three times before stopping and pulling away.

She leaned back on one arm and raised the other hand to her chest, caressing her large breasts through the thin brassiere. It was transparent enough that I could see her brown nipples, and when she fingered them they grew erect, poking out through the material.

"Do you want me, Sharon?" she asked. "Do you want my body?"

"Oh, yes, very much." My gaze kept shifting from her eyes to her mouth to her nipples, which she continued to fondle.

Angela reached out and took her 9 year-old daughter's free hand. "And do you want my little girl?"

I looked over at Bambi, the child I'd found lost in the mall not more than an hour ago. She still seemed like a little girl. But the way she had kissed me earlier and pressed her thin young body against mine -- those had certainly not been the actions of an innocent. I looked at her mother and back at Bambi and I had a vision of the two of them in bed, making love. Could it be?

I turned back to Angela. "Again, yes, I do. I want her very much. I want both of you. I want you and I want your daughter."

"Then you may have both of us. You can do anything you want with us, together or separately. Anything."

My pulse pounded as I imagined the possibilities.

"But first, let's watch while our daughters kiss each other, all right?"

Now Kelly's eyes really went wide. I was almost certain that she had never kissed another girl. Before today I would have said I was positively certain, but the look she'd had on her face as she unzipped Angela's dress and then leaned in to kiss and lick the woman's back made me wonder if she had more experience in that direction than I knew.

Kelly had never said anything to me about having an interest in girls. She seemed, to outward appearances, to be your typical heterosexual, early teen variety. But then, to outward appearances, I certainly didn't seem to be into women either. So, who knows?

The girls started slowly, giggling a lot at first, gingerly touching each other's faces, but then Bambi seemed to pick up a desire for more, and her kisses were held longer on my daughter's mouth. Soon the two children were seriously involved, their arms wrapped about each other, lips apart, tongues entwined.

If Kelly had been less adventurous at first, now that things were heating up, she asserted control. Still deep in a kiss, she shifted her feet apart, spreading her legs, and reached down with one hand to grab Bambi's small ass. Although they stood about the same height, owing to Bambi's boots, Kelly was three years older and much stronger. She lifted the little girl off her feet, aggressively grinding their crotches together.

"Whoa, okay, hold it, you two," said Angela, "before you set the room on fire."

The girls broke apart, still holding hands tightly, and everyone laughed.

I studied Kelly's face. She glowed, alive with the passion she was experiencing. I glanced at her crotch, wondering if she was as wet as I was, and whether I could see any evidence of it.

Bambi finished wiping her little mouth and said, "Mommy, I want to watch you take off Kelly's clothes."

Kelly's eyes lit up in anticipation.

Angela turned to me. "Okay, Sharon?"

"Yes, please, go right ahead."

"Okay, Kelly?" asked Angela.

My daughter nodded excitedly, almost bouncing off her feet.