Date: Mon, 9 Dec 2019 11:36:57 -0800 From: Misty Meadow Subject: The Confession The confession by Misty Meadow My big sister Nancy told me that she loved being gay. She had friends with whom she'd sleep over and always, the next day, she'd tell me exactly what had happened between the sheets, so there I was, a twelve year old budding lesbian myself, eager to find a girl with whom I could put what I knew into practice, but I was nowhere near as beautiful as Nancy was and although I'd had crushes on a few older girls and one teacher, no one returned my affection, or showed any interest in having the kind of fun that Nancy enjoyed. One evening, when Mum was out, I complained to Nancy about my lack of romantic success. "Oh, my poor darling!" she said, "Come and have a shower with me and we can fool around for a bit." And so I had my first sexual encounter with my own sister. Some people might be upset by the idea of a twelve year old girl, who hadn't yet had her first period, indulging in intimate gay sex with her older sister, but if they could see how beautiful she is, they might understand. She was slender but with big soft boobs, topped by large brown nipples. Her hips were curvy and her bum irresistible. All bums are beautiful, except on fat girls. She let me soap her breasts which made her nipples stand up and she let me suck on them and then inspect her cunt. It was different from mine. She had lips and her clit was visible. All I had was a slit in my big mound, but when she took a close up look at it, she said it was adorable and kissed it, not just a peck, but a long, lingering kiss, her tongue probing into me. Then she turned the hand-held shower head to "pulse" and aimed it at my cunt. It was amazing. Why hadn't I thought about doing that myself? "It's nice on your bum hole, too," she said and I bent over and so she could fire the jet up my rear end. Naturally, I begged her to let me do it to her, and she did as we laughed and giggled, excited by doing "dirty" things to each other. We toweled off, went into her bedroom and she asked me to sit on her face. I laughed at the idea, but as soon as I straddled her head and lowered my cunt to her face, I saw the practicality of it because all I had to do was lean forward her press my face between her legs and we were both in heaven. Also, it took up less space in her narrow the bed. Her tongue was like magic, making my cunt throb much better than my own fingers and soon she made me cum, my first orgasm and it took me by surprise. She explained all about orgasms and for the rest of the week, every night she'd teach me another way for me to bring her to a climax. It was awesome, being able to arouse her like that and soon I became a voracious cunt hound, eating Nancy's pussy almost every night. I decided that I, too, loved being gay and Nancy satisfied my every sexual urge. She was all I needed to be happy. Then she did something very stupid! She fell in love. Well, I can't actually blame her, because we don't get to decide whether or not to fall in love: it just happens. When she was fifteen, as the school summer holidays began, she got a temporary job at a garden shop at the end of our street. At the back, there was an open space with rows of pots of plants, shrubs and small trees, and rows of tables with smaller stuff on them and it was her job to keep everything watered, help in the shop and do whatever was needed. The shop's owner, Miss Carrie Owens, a woman in her late twenties, was quite adorable and I wasn't surprised when my fifteen year old sister fell for her. It seemed that Nancy's passion was returned, because she would come home absolutely glowing. I could tell soon after she started working that something was going on because whenever I asked her about the job, she'd blush and change the subject. I should've been happy for her, but she no longer invited me into her bed and I felt rejected. Now I was all on my own and, to her credit, she tried to comfort me. "I'm sorry, Misty, but I'm now almost an adult and you're only twelve and though I love you to bits, we can't play our little games any more. It would be like a betrayal of Carrie. You'll have to find a love of your own." She'd never kept secrets from me, but on the details of her affair with Miss Owens, she remained silent. She started coming home later and later and though the shop closed at five o'clock, she wouldn't get home until six or even seven. That was when Mum started noticing. One evening, when dinner had been delayed by Nancy's lateness, Mum questioned her closely, asking her why she was so late and Nancy muttered something about having to water the plants and tidy up, stuff like that, but Mum didn't believe her. "There's something going on between you and that woman," she said, accusingly. "No, there isn't," Nancy said, but her head was down and her face bright red. Even I couldn't bring myself to believe her. Mum wouldn't let up and kept probing until Nancy pushed her plate away, stood and ran out of the room. "That girl's up to something," Mum said. I tried to speak in Nancy's defense, but Mum shut me down. Later I went up to Nancy's room where she was curled up on her bed and I sat beside her and tried to comfort her. I wrapped my body round hers and put my arms round her, trying to cup her breasts, but she pushed my hands away. "You're in love with Carrie, aren't you. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tell anyone." "Oh, Misty, I adore her and she loves me too." "So that's why you've been coming home late. Have you and she . . ." She cut me off. "You're only twelve; you wouldn't understand." "I would. I know about crushes. I was gaga over my art teacher in primary school and last year I had a crush on the school's head girl so I know how you feel." "This is more than a crush and it's not just sex. I'm head over heels in love with her and I promised not to talk about what we do together. Perhaps you'll understand when you're older, Misty." "It's your sixteenth birthday in a few days, so you'll be able to do anything you want." She rolled on to her back and put her arms round me, hugging me tightly. I put one hand between her legs but she pushed it away again. "You're the best, Misty. I don't know what I'd do without you, but we can't have sex anymore." She kissed me and I left and went downstairs. Mum was at the sink, washing dishes. "Why don't you get off Nancy's case, Mum? She's so miserable." "I'm certain that woman is doing something inappropriate with her. Nancy's a minor and I'm determined to find out everything that's going on." Uh-oh! I thought. A few days later the shit hit the fan. On my way home I noticed that the garden shop was closed. Funny, I thought, it's only three o'clock. When I got home, Mum was out and I had no idea where Nancy was, but I soon found out. Here's what had happened. Late the previous evening, Mum had another go at Nancy, nagging her until she exploded and cried, "Okay! I love her and there's nothing you can do about it!" Well, as it turned out, there was. The next morning, Mum went to the police and reported that she suspected Miss Owens was having sexual relations with her underage daughter and they should investigate. Nancy, because she was a minor, had to be accompanied by Mum when she was brought to the police station. In another room they were interrogating Miss Owens. Nancy and Mum didn't get home until early evening and they both looked awful. Nancy had been crying and her eyes were red. She went straight up to her room without even eating dinner and Mum and I ate alone. She refused to tell me what was going on, but I soon found out. Two days later, Nancy was invited to the office of a lawyer that Carrie had retained. "I have to come too," Mum said. "You need an adult present." "No I don't! You forgot it's my birthday today, Mum; I'm sixteen, the age of consent in this country, remember? Misty can come with me for moral support. You've done enough damage already. Stay out of this." I think Mum was more shocked that she'd forgotten Nancy's birthday than by the outburst, so she stayed at home while we visited the lawyer. In his office, he had his secretary bring us Cokes while he drank coffee. Nancy explained I was there for moral support and I was told to say nothing and not reveal anything that was said. "Now, Nancy," he began, "I'm acting as Carrie's defense lawyer. I'm going to ask you some questions which I want you to answer with a yes or a no, and please don't offer any additional information. The police interviewed Miss Owens and she, on my instructions, said 'No comment' to every question. Now, they're required by law to give me copies of the videos of any interviews they do, and I've watched your interrogation, so I know exactly what you told them. On the face of it, it looks damaging, because you confessed to having mutual oral sex with her." Wow, I thought, trying to picture them, head to tail like we'd done. A pang of jealousy ran through me, quickly swamped by my fear of what might happen to Nancy. "But I . . ." He held up his hand, cutting her off. "Don't say anything yet, until I ask you a question, okay?" She nodded her head. "Here's what I saw on the tape. You were questioned by a male police sergeant with a woman police constable and your mother present. The police woman asked you no questions and merely took notes, right?" "Yes." "The sergeant, a bulky man with a shaved head, in shirt sleeves with his hairy tattooed arms must've seemed intimidating." Nancy nodded. "He asked you if you had had any kind of sexual encounter with Miss Owens and you denied it." "Yes, but later I . . ." He stopped her again. "His questioning became more threatening, didn't it?" "Yes." "And you were frightened, quite terrified, in fact. He was scaring the pants off you." "True." "Then he said you could go home if you told the truth, but you still denied that anything illegal had taken place. He pointed out that you were fifteen and thus below the age of consent. He stated quite emphatically that if you told him the whole truth, nothing bad would happen to you or Miss Owens, and he repeated that assertion several times. He was lying but you believed him. He threatened you with arrest for lying to the police, and that's when you made your mistake. You told him what he wanted to hear." "Yes, I did." "Because you believed that nothing would happen to Miss Owens and you wanted the interrogation to end, to avoid arrest and to go home." "Yes." "So, it seems to me that the police bullied and lied to a vulnerable fifteen year old girl, who's now sixteen, happy birthday, by the way, into confessing something that she didn't do." It wasn't a question, so Nancy remained silent. "The woman constable never said anything, did she? She just took notes. She made no attempt to intervene and stop the bullying and harassment you were being subjected to, right? And your mother didn't come to your defense either. She just sat there glaring at you, looking hostile." "That's true." "Then I think we have a good case here. Your mother has no direct evidence of any sexual activity occurring, merely suspicions, so all the police have is your interview tape, your alleged 'confession' which I shall claim was obtained under duress. If I can't get the tape tossed out of court I can paint a very sympathetic picture for the jury. Now that you're sixteen, the age of consent in the U.K., your future will be no concern of theirs. We can win this one. By the way, Miss Owens is out on bail, but I've instructed her not to contact you, so you won't see her until the trial. Sorry about that, but it's necessary." He thanked us and we left. ____________________________ The long agonising weeks dragged by, and Nancy became more miserable. The school autumn term had started and she was failing. "I try to phone her," she moaned one night, "but as soon as she sees who's calling, she shuts it off. I can't even leave a voice mail. What if she goes to jail? I couldn't live without her." Then came the day of the trial. Mum and I were in the spectator's area in the courtroom. The prosecution's entire case was Nancy's so-called confession, which was played for the jury, then the prosecution rested. It was all they had, and it was their undoing. Carrie's lawyer called Nancy to the stand and she retracted her confession, claiming that she'd been lied to and threatened by a brutal, terrifying police sergeant, and eventually she'd said what he wanted to hear so she could go home. The jury retired for thirty minutes and returned a verdict of not guilty. They'd bought her story. Outside the courthouse, Nancy ran to Carrie and tried to embrace her, but she was pushed away. "You've caused me a lot of trouble and a shitload of money. How could you be so fucking stupid? You told your mother, you silly little cow! All you had to do was keep your fucking mouth shut." "But I lied on the stand for you. I saved you from jail! Doesn't that mean anything?" "We're finished!" She turned and strode away. Nancy stood there, stricken. I tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. Back home, I cornered Mum. "It's all your fault! You had to stick your big nose in. Face it, Nancy's gay and so am I. We don't choose our sexual orientation, it's handed to us and we have to live with it. Get used to it!" "I suppose I overreacted," she said. "I was brought up to believe that sex should be between a man and a woman, but it seems times have changed. Nancy's an adult now and she can do what she likes." The next day, Nancy seemed to have recovered. We walked home from school, staying on the far side of the road as we passed the garden shop, not even looking at it. "Carrie was right; I was fucking stupid," she said. "I knew Mum's a homophobe, but what I didn't realise was that Carrie's actually not a very nice person. It was the sex that blinded me. It was so thrilling that I overlooked all her faults just so I could be in her arms and eat her throbbing cunt. Well, I'm wiser now." When we got home, Mum was out and we went upstairs. "I need to shower," she said and I watched as she undressed, still marveling at her beautiful breasts. "My tits have started to grow," I told her, "and guess what: I even have a few pubic hairs." "Oh, Misty," she sighed, folding me in her arms. "You're growing up. Let's see them, then." She gazed at me as I undressed, taking off my dress, dropping my knickers, then slowly lifting my shirt until my budding boobs came into view. I tossed the shirt aside and stood proudly as she inspected me. My cunt was tingling. We stood side by side looking at ourselves in the mirror. "Two gorgeous lesbians," she said, "two sisters each longing for love." She turned and looked right into my eyes. "Fuck Carrie and fuck Mum! Why did I have to make life so complicated? You were here all the time and you're a very sexy girl. I was blinded by love, but now I hate Carrie, and here you are. Can we start again where we left off?" "In the shower? What better place?" She took my hand and led me into the bathroom. We embraced and kissed under the streaming water and she lathered my new little tits, while I washed her between her legs. "Put a soapy finger up my bum, because later I want you to lick it," she said. I giggled, but I was ready to try anything new. "I always pee in the shower, do you?" I confessed that I did. "Let's do it, then." We stood face to face and peed and she put her hand between my legs, so I did the same. It was such a lovely intimate thing, feeling her warm pee on my palm. "Next time, pee on my tits and cunt," she said. "And you can to it to me, Sis." A few days later, she let me fist her and I was amazed at how far I could get my arm inside her. One day soon, I'll let her do it to me. I think she's forgotten about Miss Carrie fucking Owens. The end.