Forbidden Fruit


An Erotic Novel



J.E. Ashbourne

Chapter 1 - Awakenings


She gazed at herself in the full-length mirror. The steam of the bath somehow drifted across and around her. The mirror misted and she could barely see how sweet she was. Lately she had noticed the barely bumps upon her chest, but now she could see them properly. Her nakedness suddenly interested her. Somehow it taunted her, promised her, but what?


She was a sacrificial blonde, with pert young features which most had commented on around her. Her tummy was tucked, her chest was bumped, her thighs had plumped, and her eyes were shocking blue. Had she wings she would have been a cherub. Instead, she was the youngest of a family in which Mother, Father, brother, and sisters, were each secretive and reclusive.


Jenny herself was a quiet girl. She liked to read, to listen to songs, to go to the movies, and watch TV: A normal New England girl in an isolated island of loneliness. It wasn't that she didn't have friends, but that she was never allowed to stay over at her friends' houses and they weren't allowed to sleep over either. One by one they deserted her. Maybe this would change, now that she was twelve.


Today was the first day of the rest of her life; today was the first day of Junior High; her birthday. Surely her world would change now. Surely it would. She reached out to the mirror and wiped the condensed steam off its surface, and in the mirror her hand was covering her breast. She withdrew it to herself, and watched in the mirror as she gently touched her breast. It was warm as she caressed it quietly in the steamy room.


She circled first one, and then the other of these semi-globes, pyramidal molehills of dainty flesh. Her other hand raised and both hands took her budding womanhood in their hands and felt them over and over, like the caress of a sweet baby's bottom. She cupped them in unison and curiously squashed them in her hands, a small tingling beginning to stir in them as she felt the blood rush to her pert young nipple buds and harden them like candy. Her thumbs gently pressed over them like she were doing some delicate operation, and she was, for she had never done this before.


Index finger and thumb converged upon her virgin nipples as she caressed and tweaked them, making the tingling worse, making another tingling start way below. Her left hand shared both budding breasts as her right hand went south, over her taut tucked tummy, and down to that virtually bald peach below.


Her fingers traced slowly down her peach, caressing her puffy cheeks as they warmed with pulsing blood. She had not touched herself here in any way but proper in her life, but now was different. Something was happening, something tingling, and she could feel it starting here. She glanced in the mirror, one hand caressing her pert young breasts, the other tracing her puffy peach.


Her left hand slipped down south from those beautiful hillets to her own tender groove. She watched herself in the mirror as her fingers parted the cheeks of that puffy groove, and touched the folds within. The feelings increased, they multiplied with every touch. Fingers and thumb caressed each pair of velvet folds, the groove getting deeper between them.


Her left hand trailed a finger up that moistening groove as her other held open her folds so she could see herself in the mirror. Peeking from behind a hood of converging skin, bright pink skin, was the tiniest bud of flesh which she gently caressed. She was touching an ache, something she had never dreamed. She looked closely as she circled the node and prized it from its velvet hood. The ache multiplied as she touched it, but the ache was nice, no, more than nice, it was pleasure. She circled it slowly, a gasp taking hold of her as she pressed the fiery bud. It was growing, glowing red as her pleasure increased, the more she touched it.


A small trickle of dew wet her lips below, hidden at the bottom of the groove it gathered amongst the peach, waiting to drip or roll down her inner thigh. Now her right hand moved down her fleshy groove to encounter the moisture from within. Her other hand grudgingly left her bud and opened her peachy cheeks, and with the tips of her fingers she held back these velvet folds, so she could trace her right hands' fingertips along her wet inner lips.


They were delicate and moist, a little taut, and very soft. She traced their outline with her index finger and pressed its tip between them. The flesh gave way easily to her finger and her fingertip went inside those wet lips. She pressed a little further in and the finger slid gently through. She could feel her insides and they could feel her finger as she pushed it further inside herself, so her knuckle was pushed to the moist lips as her finger felt inside her.


This was new; exciting. She withdrew her finger and raised it to her nose to smell her own sweet pungent aroma. She tasted her juice as she sucked her finger clean of it. It was strange and exciting!


The bathroom door shook and her head turned to see the doorknob turn. She had locked it, hadn't she? She was sure she had, but - the lock bit in and the doorknob halted. She was safe.


"Jenny, don't be long, Honey. Your Pa will take you to school on his way to work if you hurry," said her Mom in her New England - Old England kind of way. She was used to it, and didn't notice it as anything out of the ordinary. She was just Mom.


"Okay Mom", she said and looked directly at her reflected self in the mirror as she did. It didn't quite sit right saying "Mom" while standing naked, answering her mother as she touched her breasts and trailed her little finger down her torso to her moist groove.


"Now, don't be long," her mother said down the hall. The voice shook her out of her self induced trance and she picked up the towel from the floor.


Her bedroom was bright with early morning sun, as she daubed her skin with the soft towel. She could see her Mom had put her uniform out on her bed: Short white socks, the skirt was a pleated skirt in school grey, a soft white blouse, and a square shouldered navy blazer. Her school tie lay draped across them all, and lastly on top of the pile was a pair of white cotton panties to snug closely to her virgin peach.


Pa was waiting in the car when she finally emerged from the house. His eyes blinked a little as his youngest daughter got into the front seat. Her pretty little legs caught the morning sun as first one and then the other slid carelessly onto the seat of that ten-year-old station wagon; her little thighs emerging from her little skirt and led to her perfect knees and down her perfectly formed calves, to her little white socks. She glanced at him as he leaned over and pulled the door closed. Behind her, in the kitchen window, her Ma was looking at them about to set off. Pa looked into the window and caught her smiling at him. She blew a kiss of blessing as Pa smiled back. Jennifer smiled at her father a small coy delicate smile.


"Morning, Sweetheart".

"Morning, Pa".


He looked over her one last glance before shifting gear and moving off from the drive.

The sunny morn was blinding drivers and scorching the grass as they drove to school. School was a large building which loomed before her as the car pulled up at the front steps. There were other kids arriving already and it was eight thirty and people were piling through the doors.


"Bye, Pa!" She said as she shifted over to kiss him on the cheek. The peck lasted a milli-second and she broke off toward the door. His hand grabbed hers the moment she heard his voice say, "Wait a minute, Sweetheart. Is that all your Pa gets on your first day of Junior High?"

"Sorry Pa," she said, "I gotta go, or I'll be late".

"Not without a real kiss for your Pa".

The first bell rang and kids rushed through the doors to get to home room.


"Gimme that kiss, huh?"

"Okay", she said as she darted over to her Pa and pressed her sweet virgin lips upon his adult male ones. His hand caught her head and held it there as his lips pressed over hers. His other hand clasped her waist as they met. Her eyes opened wide as she found herself held tightly to the kiss, and his hand slipped down her waist to her bare thigh. It smoothed gently over her skin up her tender thigh so his fingers slipped beneath her pleated skirt. She felt them trace up her thigh to the leg hole of her panties as his lips eased off hers. She looked at him a little scared, nothing like this had ever happened to her before. He smiled soothingly, his fingertips nudging under the leg hole of her panties.


"Okay Honey?"

She smiled awkwardly. "Yeah Pa..."



She smiled again, embarrassed. "I just never kissed that long before". She giggled a little too childishly, as his fingers crept further into her panties so they felt her soft buttock cheek.


"Uh... Pa, I gotta go to school now".

"It's okay Honey, you're just gonna be a little late".

His fingers found the groove of her butt cheeks and caressed it softly.

"Open your mouth a little, I wanna show you something," he said. Her lips were apart as he leaned forward to her and let his lips press over them.


"Kiss me back," he whispered, and unsurely her own lips caressed his. His tongue touched her lips and licked them, his eyes holding hers as his tongue slipped between his daughter's lips and found hers. His fingers slid from her panties and she was relieved as they slid from under her skirt down her thighs to her knee.


"You like it?" He broke off.

"It's different, Pa. Can I go now?"

His fingers toyed over her knees, first one, and then the other.

"Okay Honey, you can go."

She slid along the seat and opened the door.

"I'll see you later, Honey," he said.


She got out of the door and ran up the school steps and through the front door. The halls were deserted as the feelings she felt in the car were still there, still throbbing in her chest, still aching between her legs. Home room - where was home room? Room 109 - she found it.


She knocked the door and entered. The teacher was a woman of just twenty-one. She motioned Jenny to sit in a spare space, but there were kids roving to and fro, and groups sitting in islands of society which she was yet to be invited to.


"Jennifer Ashbourne?" said the teacher.

"Yes, Miss." She sat down.

"Don't be late again, miss.”


Jenny shook her head at the pretty young teacher, "No Miss, I won't, I'm sorry".

The teacher looked at the girl a moment; sincere apologies were not normally forthcoming from students.


"Susie," said a voice next to Jennifer.


"My name's Susie" said the voice.

Jennifer turned in her seat to see a dark haired girl in the same school uniform as herself with a hand outstretched in friendship. Jenny took the hand and shook - "I'm Jenny".


Susie and she stuck together for the next few lessons. The last one before lunch was History; her least favourite subject of all. She was tired and a little overawed as she sat in her chair.


Jennifer listened to the teacher as she droned on about the civil war or something. The voice was lost in the heat of the midday sun as she shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Her skirt was riding high as she shifted, her fingers lightly glancing off her bare thigh. The teacher's voice soothed the dusted sunbeams as they broke through the classroom windows. Everyone in the class was looking forward or down in the afternoon heat. The heat that burned down upon them made her young and tender breasts sweat like a steam-bath. The teacher winced from pacing into the blinding sunlight as she turned yet again in her endless drone.      Jennifer’s fingers smoothed her tender legs as she wiped the sun from them. The heat made her comfort wane as her fingers wiped softly over her skin. Looking gently about so no one was looking she let her fingers trail up under the hem of her skirt to the leg-hole of her panties.

Carefully her fingers prized themselves into her cotton panties. They slithered slowly under her naked thigh to the puffy cheeks of her vulva. She caressed them softly at first, the feelings starting that special fire inside her she felt for the first time this morning. Her fingertips gently touched her moistening lips as her flesh grew warm and moist.


She looked nervously around the classroom. No one bothered to look back at her as she did them. Miss Watkins talked onward through the blistering heat, droning the room to sleep. All except Jennifer.


Her index finger touched her moist lips gently and caressed up to where they met. It paused over her secret bud, giving the warm pinnacle a tender circle before moving back to her wetness. Crouching forward, leaning on her other hand, cupping her face and propped up by her elbow, no one could see what the girl was doing under her skirt. It felt good as she circled her swollen lips, a small trickle of juice glossing her fingers with her slippery sheen. She rubbed around her wet lips, making them start to burn with lust. Her secret bud began that dull ache she would know so well. Her finger pressed lightly upon her delicate lips and pushed gently through and went inside her. She stifled a small whimper in her hand as she entered herself. Another finger worked its way into her slippery wetness next to her other. There they stayed, gripped by virgin lips, by the walls of her wet vagina as it began to run with her growing excitement. Her sparse down matted to her vulva cheeks as her fingers barely moved inside her.


It wasn't enough. Everyone was half asleep. Even Miss Watkins seemed to be resigned to the fact that nobody was listening to her. Everyone was just waiting for the final bell to go, and sound the end of the school day. But Jennifer wasn't waiting for the bell anymore. Her fingers pulled gently out of herself and traced carefully, silently up to her little bud. It was hot and felt like it would burst if she didn't appease it now! She touched it again; making sure the passion inside was firmly biting into her bottom lip as she did so. Carefully she circled the bud. It felt good. Again, it felt very good. She looked directly at Miss Watkins as she gently, quietly fingered herself for the first time, in class. Her legs had become crossed for easier access to her aching volcano. She dipped her fingers quickly into herself to collect juices to use on her button. Then quickly she moved her fingers back to her bud and began rubbing in earnest. Around and around her fingers went on her throbbing aching bud. Her teeth bit into her bottom lip as the ecstasy started to climb.


She looked up at Miss Watkins as the young teacher cast a glance over the room. She was an attractive woman in her mid-twenties; long blonde hair flowing over full pouting breasts covered by a thin loose blouse which buttoned delicately up the front, the shapely curve of her bottom hidden by a loose flowing black skirt to her knees giving fleeting glances of her smooth thighs as she turned.


Jenny watched the young teacher move and tried to imagine her naked, although she had no idea why. Her fingertips were going faster, harder, getting her hotter, more impassioned about herself. She shifted slightly in the chair, her fingers quickly dipping inside herself and back out. They dived for her burning bud, rubbing it hard around and around, in a blur of self love. She stuffed the fingers of her other hand into her mouth to stifle her own heavy breath. Her little bean was burning hotter than ever. She was going to burst! More, faster, harder. Was anyone looking?


No. Faster, around and around her engorged little bud of flesh. It was burning with sensations she had never truly known. Wetter! Hotter! Harder! Faster! Suddenly her insides exploded with her juices, the feeling coursing through her burning bud, through her groin, her legs, her stomach, her breasts, her neck, her feet, toes, ears, face, even her hair. Her juices rushed inside her, flowing in a small gush onto her fingers and soaking into her panties, her skirt mopping the trickle of silver as it ran down between her butt cheeks. Sweat pierced her brow as she strained upon the pleasure.


She looked at Miss Watkins. The teacher was looking directly at her. Jennifer felt her colour rising. Momentarily, the young woman had stopped talking. No one noticed. Jennifer's heart stopped, but Miss Watkins composed herself and slowly continued.


Finally, the bell rang.


​©2015 by J.E. Ashbourne all rights reserved.​ 

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