Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Rachael Yukey

I slipped the thick sheaf of paper back into the manila folder, tucked it under the head of the cot, then took a moment to study the monitor. Nothing had changed. Without much conscious thought, I scanned the displays on my infusion pumps and checked the readout on the ventilator. Finally, my eyes came to rest on the comatose young man in front of me. His arms were heavily tattooed, hair cropped close. He had a tube down his throat, and most of his abdomen was covered with a bulky dressing.

Goddamn fools.

Calls for any kind of violence in Franklin County are mercifully rare, and this was one of the dumbest incidents I’d seen. A young husband and wife, ripped to the tits on meth, fighting over who got to pick the next movie to watch. He’d smacked her upside the head, and she’d come at him with a kitchen knife. A big one. According to the medic who’d responded to the scene, Tattoo Boy’s guts had been hanging out. He’d been brought to Pinewood hospital on the 911 call, and was now being transferred to Centracare in St. Cloud.

A flash of lightning split the darkness in the back window of the ambulance, followed by the crash of thunder. It was nine o’clock on Friday morning, but the heavy clouds and the steady sheet of rain rendered the sky nearly black. The rare early spring thunderstorm was the reason this particular gentleman was in an ambulance instead of a helicopter. He was stable for the moment, and I had little to do, but if the hasty patchwork they’d performed in Johnstown came undone en route, I was most likely going to lose him.

The patient stirred a little. I inspected his face, noting tearing around the eyes. I increased the infusion rate on my Ketamine drip, then selected a carefully labeled syringe and pushed a couple of milliliters.

“You’re all right, buddy,” I said. “I just gave you a little extra medicine. You should feel better in a minute or two.” I don’t know if talking to a person under sedation is helpful or not, but legitimate research suggests that it might be. So I always try to do it.

Putting the syringe aside, I pulled the laptop closer. I didn’t anticipate having to do much, and there was over an hour to go. I could probably get most or all of my report done on the way. Then my phone rang. It was on the bench seat next to the narc box, and I glanced down. Terry. I picked it up and swiped the accept button.

“Gotta make it quick,” I said.

“Ah, shit… are you with a patient right now?”

“Relax,” I said. “It’s a tubed transfer patient, and I’m just doing maintenance drugs. I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t have a minute to talk. What’s up?”

“I just had the most fascinating conversation with George Fronse.”

“And?”

“He was absurdly cordial. Offered me coffee, made small talk. Pretty much exactly the opposite of how he normally behaves towards me. But that’s not the fascinating bit. The fascinating bit is that he didn’t seem at all surprised by what I had to say.”

I leaned back against the cushions affixed to the wall of the ambulance, chewing the inside of my cheek. “Really.” As I spoke, my eyes roved the equipment, mindful for any changes.

“Really, but oh, that’s not all. He acted exactly the way you described him from the Bixley interview. Evasive, hesitant. It wasn’t like him at all.”

“Did he have anything to say about what you showed him?”

“He asked me who else we’ve talked to. I told him you were planning to speak with hospitals, EMS medical directors, and the county mounties this morning. Speaking of which, how much of that did you get around to?”

Frowning a little at a change on the monitor, I made a small adjustment to the vent settings. “I talked to our medical director at Thormleton, also Dr. Murphey over at Pinewood. They’re going to help me spread the word to the other hospitals and ambulance services. I was about to call the sheriff’s department, but that’s when shit started to go down. I won’t be back in Johnstown till this afternoon.”

“Well,” said Terry, “I also had a little chat with Robbie Wachinsky. You should be in Bronning by seven this evening, no?”

“If I don’t get fucked by a last-minute transfer. Why?”

“Robbie’s doing an emergency meeting to brief the ambulance squad on this. Doc Stantin will be there, too. I’ve been making phone calls, and I think we can get one hundred percent participation. If you can be there to give the briefing, that would be ideal.”

Watching the monitor closely now, I bumped the infusion rate on another of the pumps a bit higher. “It shouldn’t be a problem. Um, I’d better go, Terry; shit’s getting weird on me. Anything else you need?”

“One quick thing: I’m on call today, and all the surrounding services have been getting their asses kicked if the radio chatter is to be believed. If I see another one of these cases but can’t get an intercept, is there anything I can do at my level?”

I didn’t even have to think about it. “Drive fast and pray,” I said. “As an EMT, you have no tools for this. See you tonight, Terry.”

“See you.”

I made another adjustment to the ventilator, then took the patient’s hand. “Come on, man,” I said aloud. “Hang in there. Only another hour and you’ll be in surgery. Don’t crump on me now, you hear? You can do this.”

***

“If you see the combination of symptoms I’ve just outlined,” I said, “or anything even close, get your ALS intercept coming before you load. You’ve got a patient suffering distributive shock, they’re already starting to decompensate, and as an EMT there isn’t a damn thing you can give them except for oxygen and high-flow diesel fuel.”

Seated around the conference table at the Bronning ambulance station were ten Emergency Medical Technicians and two Emergency Medical Responders. Add myself, standing before them at the whiteboard, and you have the entirety of Bronning’s hopelessly understaffed volunteer ambulance service. The two EMRs can’t be alone in the back of an ambulance with a patient, and mostly just serve as drivers. Keeping a two-person crew on call at all times is a major pain in the ass for the director, and the EMTs with the most availability – Terry and two others – do over three hundred hours a month of on-call time each.

Sitting on one of the couches at the edge of the room was medical director Dick Stantin, an ED doc at Melville. George Fronse sat next to him, still in uniform, his back ramrod straight.

I took a deep breath and went on. “If it’s reasonable to go to Johnstown from the scene, do that. It’s worth going in that direction even if it’s, say, an extra five minutes to get there. We have ‘pressors on the Thormleton trucks that no other medics in the area have access to, so a Thormleton intercept can really make a difference in these cases. But if the difference is more than five minutes, go emergent to the closest facility.”

My eyes swept the room. Stacy Logan was seated next to Terry. I wondered if they were sleeping together again. On Terry’s other side was Nate Hauss, his hands begrimed from his job as a heavy truck mechanic. Then there was Robbie the old-timer, Jessie the noob, and all the rest.

“Dr. Stantin,” I said, “is there anything you’d like to say?”

The prim middle-age man in the designer suit stood up. “I think Nettie has done a really impressive bit of detective work here. We’ve seen two of these cases up in Melville now, and we’ll certainly be on the lookout for more. I think everything I would have said has been covered, except that no matter how serious the situation appears to be, don’t neglect to look after your own safety. Drivers especially should remember not to take unnecessary risks.” He nodded once and sat down.

“One last thing,” I said. “When I’m home I’m going to be keeping my radio on, and I’ll jump on any calls for altered mental or reduced LOC. That way you’ll have ALS available without having to call for an intercept. If I can make it, I’ll let you know via the city channel. If you don’t hear from me, just go.”

I took my seat. All eyes turned to the head of the table, where Robbie Wachinsky sat. “Thank you, Nettie, and Dr. Stantin,” he said. “I have to say, I haven’t seen anything like this in all the years I’ve been an EMT. It’s pretty late and I imagine we all want to be getting home to dessert, but we can spare a few minutes for discussion. Anyone have any questions, or anything to add?”

Nate Hauss cleared his throat. “How sure are we that this is being caused by a narcotic?”

“We’re not,” I said. “It could be a really weird virus, or some kind of poison lots of people are getting into. Unfortunately most of the cases are only getting a standard tox screen, and it comes back negative. Whatever was in Jason Bixley’s body hasn’t been identified yet, to the best of my knowledge, and we can’t be completely sure that his case is related to the rest of these anyway. I have my opinions, but I don’t think anyone can say for sure.”

Nate nodded once and sat back.

Robbie inclined his head. “Anyone else?” A few heads shook, but nobody spoke.

“Then I have an announcement to make before we call it a night,” said Robbie. “This will be my last month as an active volunteer on the Bronning ambulance schedule. My license doesn’t expire till March of next year, so if anyone is really hard up to get a shift covered until then, I’ll try to help you out. Other than that, I’ve had it. I’ve been at this for over forty years, and I want Jason Bixley to be the last local boy I have to watch die.”

I took a quick glance around the room, trying to keep my face impassive. Mouths were hanging open. If Bronning Ambulance is a family, Robbie Wachinsky is the father.

“I informed the city today that I’ll be remaining in the director’s role until the end of June,” Robbie was saying. “Anyone interested in the position should talk to Cindy at the city offices right away. They’d like to pick someone as soon as possible so that person can work with me for the next couple of months and learn how it’s done. It has to be an EMT, or a paramedic if Nettie decides she wants to apply.”

Fuck that.

Robbie stood. “I’m not inviting discussion of it tonight; we can talk about it more at the monthly meeting. Good night, everyone.”

Robbie picked up his folder full of papers, leaving a roomful of people gaping at his back. The outer door closed, and the room exploded in a cacophony of voices.

***

I was just stepping out of the shower when I heard a rapping on my door. I’d split the meeting as soon as I decently could, hastening home to clean myself up before Halee arrived. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, but I knew I needed to get the stink of a long day on the bandaid box off before finding out.

Dammit. While showering, I’d pondered what to greet her in, fretting over what I should wear like a high school freshman on her first date. I’d been debating the merits of digging out some of my seldom-used lingerie. What I hadn’t expected was to let her in wearing a bathrobe, hair wrapped in a towel.

I unbolted the door and opened it, then stopped dead for a moment, just looking Halee up and down. She was wearing one of her seemingly endless supply of short black skirts, fishnet stockings underneath. She’d done something with her hair to make it wavier than usual, her wrists were adorned with what looked like Hot Topic jewelry, and she had just a touch of that blackish lipstick on. In short, she looked ravishing, and there I stood in a frumpy old bathrobe.

“Come in,” I said. “I’m sorry, Halee, we had that last-minute meeting and…”

Closing the door behind her, she reached up and put a finger to my lips. “Shh,” she whispered. “It’s okay. Say, I just thought… do we need to be worried about people seeing me here?”

I snorted. “We’re in meth central,” I told her. “This building takes HRA benefits, so literally everybody but me is a welfare recipient from out of town. They don’t even know anyone outside the building, and nobody knows them. It’s the safest place in Bronning to hook up.” I took Halee by the hand and led her towards the living room, acutely conscious of what I’d just said. Was that really what we were doing – hooking up?

Luckily, Halee let it slide. “So why do you stay here?”

I shrugged. “It wasn’t like this when I moved in. At the time I’d just become a paramedic and was moving out of my mom’s house. It was cheap, and the neighbors weren’t bad; just old, mostly. But the older residents are mostly gone, and they got replaced with the HRA crowd. I keep thinking about moving, but haven’t got around to it yet.”

Stopping in the middle of the living room, I turned to face Halee, taking both her hands in mine. “You look amazing,” I told her.

“So do you.”

I laughed. “Bullshit,” I said. “I look like a frump. I was just getting out of the shower when you knocked.”

“You could have just come as you were,” she said with a sweet little smile.

I felt my face warm at the thought of her seeing me naked. Part of me wanted to drop the bathrobe right then and there. I’d been determined to play things by ear, go slowly, and not take things too far in one sitting, but those hazel eyes were robbing me of my resolve in a hurry.

I led her to the couch. “Why don’t you make yourself comfy,” I said, “and I’ll go and get dressed.”

She sat, but wouldn’t release my hand. “Don’t go,” she implored. “I don’t care what you’re wearing. Stay with me.”

I gave in, sitting down beside her. I made no pretense of trying to avoid contact, wrapping an arm around Halee and pulling her close. She snuggled up. I let my fingertips caress her upper arm and shoulder.

I looked down, gently turning her head and tilting it up to face mine with two fingers under her chin. I realized she was trembling.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

She nodded. “Mm-hmm. Kinda nervous, I guess.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” I assured her. “We can just sit here like this. Or we could play rummy, or… whatever you want to do.”

It was easy to say, but my body insisted otherwise. I was vaguely aware of moisture gathering between my legs. Halee gave me a knowing smirk.

“You don’t want to play rummy,” she said flatly.

I chuckled hollowly. “No, not really.”

“Good,” she said, “because I don’t either.”

“So what do you want?”

“I think,” she said, eyeing me appraisingly, “I want to kiss you.”

Still cupping Halee’s chin. I brushed my thumb across her lips, and she smiled. I leaned in, my face inches from hers – leaving the first move to her.

Slowly, hesitantly, she closed those last couple of inches and pressed her lips to mine.

It wasn’t much at first, as kisses go. We just sat there for a long moment, lips together, frozen in time. The only movement was my fingertips caressing the back of her neck. But for me, it was the fulfillment of ages-suppressed longing, and my body responded in kind. It was all I could do to keep myself from ravishing her, right then and there.

Then she parted her lips. Just a little bit, trying it out. Firmly reminding myself that this was her first kiss and that I had to go slowly, I let my own lips go slack, then gently took her top lip in between them. A funny little noise escaped her throat as she opened her mouth wider.

Restraint, I reminded myself, gently teasing her lips with mine. She began copying my movements, sucking first on one of my lips, then the other. Unable to restrain myself for another second, I slipped my tongue between her lips. Not too far, just a quick, exploratory dart and a withdrawal. She didn’t pull away, so I tried it again, and this time Halee met my tongue with hers.

Slowly, languorously, the tips of our tongues engaged in a sexy dance. I let it go on for a few seconds, then pulled back, looking down into her eyes. Her breathing was strained, and mine wasn’t exactly steady.

“Is this okay, Halee?” I whispered.

“It was until you stopped,” she informed me, the corners of her mouth barely forming a smile.

I leaned in again, this time planting a kiss at the corner of her jaw. I nuzzled my way to her chin, then moved downward, tipping her head back and planting little kisses on her neck and collarbone. Her hands gripped the back of my head, knocking away the towel I’d bundled my hair in. Her breathing was becoming increasingly harsh. I snaked my tongue out, running it along her jawline and around to her chin. Halee, clearly having had enough, ducked down to capture my mouth with hers.

This time there was no hesitation; our mouths opened and our tongues came together. Halee was awkward and uncertain at first, but she followed my lead. Within moments, she was kissing me back with increasing urgency and confidence. Then her mouth was on my neck, kissing me the way I’d been kissing her moments ago.

I’ll give away a little secret: if you want to fuck me, go for my neck. It’s my most insane erogenous zone, and Halee’s hot little mouth blazed a trail across it, licking, kissing, and laying down little love bites. When her lips found their way back to mine, I scooped her into my arms and pulled her halfway onto my lap. We kissed long and passionately, and finally I forced myself to break away.

“Halee,” I gasped, “unless you’re looking for a lot more than just a kiss, I… I need a minute here.”

A delighted smile illuminated her face. “Does that mean I’m doing a good job?”

“Honey, I’m having a hard time believing you’ve never done this before.”

She beamed. “That’s good,” she said, “because I am looking for more than just a kiss.”

I took a few deep breaths to steady myself, and cupped her face in both hands. “What were you hoping for?”

Her mouth twisted. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, “but if I was alone right now, I’d be… you know…”

“Masturbating?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to do it together? Just watch each other?”

She tilted her head to one side. “I was more thinking we’d do stuff to each other. Isn’t that how this is supposed to work?”

God, I wanted those hands on my body. For the thousandth time, I reminded myself not to rush this.

“Eventually,” I said, “but this is new for you. I think it would be better if we take it slow.”

She nodded. “Guess I’ll take what I can get. Can we go to your bedroom?”

I led her down the hallway. After closing the door to the bedroom I drew Halee to me and kissed her, leaning down and bending her backwards just a little. She’s tall for her age, but I’m six feet, you know?

We pressed our bodies together as we kissed. When we came apart, Halee put a tentative hand on one of the trailing ends of my bathrobe sash. “Can I take this off?”

I slowly nodded. Halee tugged on the sash, releasing the bow. She pulled the slipknot loose and let the robe fall open. Placing both hands on my shoulders, she eased the robe over them until it slid down my arms and to the floor. Then she stood back, regarding my body with something like wonder.

Stepping forward to take Halee in my arms, I pressed my nude body against her clothed one, and we kissed again. I almost began undressing her right then, but held back, not wanting to risk making her feel pressured.

With an effort of will, I let her go, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Can I see you?” I asked. “If you’re ready, that is.”

Without a word, Halee slipped her shirt over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra; there isn’t really enough there to justify it yet. I couldn’t tear my eyes from those tiny nubs… until her hands moved downward, that is. She unfastened her skirt and let it slip to the floor, then pushed those fishnets down along with her panties. There she stood before me, legs slightly parted, hands on hips. There was only the slightest hint of dark pubic hair. I beckoned her to sit with me on the bed. She joined me, we kissed slowly and tenderly for a moment, then I pulled away.

I crawled onto the bed, lay back, and spread my legs wide apart. Halee’s eyes were immediately riveted to my exposed pussy. I spread the lips wide with the thumb and fingers of one hand to give her a good look.

“It’s… different from mine,” she said in a quavering voice.

“Can I see yours?” She nodded, so I sat up, eased Halee onto her back, then gently opened her legs. Her lips parted only slightly. “Will you let me look inside?” I asked.

Halee made a face. “You don’t have to keep asking permission before you — you do stuff to me, okay?” she protested. “Nettie: I want this. If you do anything I don’t like, I’ll tell you… okay?”

I was speechless at first, but finally managed to say, “I guess that’s fair.”

“Good.” She relaxed into the sheets, parting her thighs even further. “Now, I believe you were hoping to… get a look?”

I knelt before her. My trembling fingers trailed up her leg, then slid down the crease of her pelvis. Halee raised her hips up from the bed and moaned. I traced a path down the outside of her slit, thrilling at the moisture that coated her lips. Dear God, she’s wet. Halee was practically panting, pressing herself against my fingers.

I spread her lips apart. The inner labia were small and pink, the prominent nub of her clitoral hood standing out boldly, begging for attention. Everything glistened with the evidence of Halee’s arousal. I traced the insides of her lips, letting the moisture coat my fingers. My earlier resolve was gone; there was no way this would end the way I’d initially planned.

My fingers found her slippery entrance, and began a slow circular motion, opening her up. Halee was thrusting her hips at me, whimpering with every breath. I leaned in to kiss her, and she met my mouth with a hunger that left me breathless.

I ran a finger up and down the entrance to her pussy, taking care to avoid her clit. My wandering mouth found Halee’s collarbone, then stole downward to the tiny beginnings of her breasts. She whimpered as I delicately licked each nipple.

“Nettie, please,” she moaned.

My index and middle fingers, each stroking one of her lips, came together in the middle to tease her clit. Halee wailed.

I began a circular motion with my fingers, pulling her tightly against me with my free arm while I peppered her chest, face, and neck with little kisses. I knew this was a first for her, being intimately touched by someone else, and I wanted her to feel warm, safe and loved.

Her breath was coming in starts and hitches, with occasional moans. Then the moans increased in volume and frequency, then her body suddenly went rigid. Burying her face in my shoulder, she convulsed in the throes of her orgasm, little “uh… uh… uh” noises escaping with every exhalation. Finally, she went limp.

Halee lay in my arms for a while, pressed snugly against me. My body was raging with unrequited need, but I was overcome with a tremendous satisfaction that more than made up for it. I’d given this sweet little angel what she so desperately needed, and her sighs of contentment were more than enough for me.

Once she’d caught her breath, Halee lifted her head and looked into my eyes. “Wow,” she got out, “that was… whoa.”

“I’m glad you liked it.” My words came out as a ragged whisper.

The corners of her mouth curled upwards. “You still need something,” she said.

“Kinda,” I said with a dry chuckle.

“Do you want me to…”

“Only if you want to, Halee. If not, I can take care of myself.”

“Can I touch your boobs?” There was a hesitant tremor in her voice.

“You can touch me anywhere you want,” I breathed.

She extended hand slowly, tentatively. Her fingertips trailed around the underside of my left breast, then the other. She shifted position, enabling her to reach in with both hands, cupping and then caressing. When she found my nipples, my already urgent need got jacked up a few notches. I pressed my thighs together, sending little pulses of pleasure through my core.

When her tongue flicked across a nipple, I moaned, “Oh, God, Halee…”.

She spent a few minutes licking and sucking first one nipple, then the other, while I writhed, gasped, and whimpered. Then she pulled away, trailing her hands across my belly as she repositioned herself to get a good look down below.

I never saw myself as a raving beauty, but do have what I consider to be a beautiful pussy. I’m just barely an outie, my inner labia extending just a few millimeters beyond the outer lips, taking on a bluish tinge at the extremity. Halee brushed across the inner lips, and I involuntarily moved towards her fingers. She eased a finger into my slit, found the hole, then paused at the entrance, delicately stroking me there. I ached for her to go inside.

“You can put it in me, if you want,” I encouraged.

Giving me a delighted, naughty smile, she penetrated my vagina with one steady stroke. I shuddered.

“Have you ever put a finger inside yourself?” I groaned.

“Just a little ways. I’m kind of scared to do more. Wow, it’s really gooey in there.” She slid her finger in and out, and my breath hitched.

“You could p-put another one in,” I stammered.

I felt a second finger join the first, then she began to up the tempo.

“That’s right, sweetie,” I breathed. “Fuck me.”

Halee’s grin got bigger. “That’s what I’m doing, isn’t it? Fucking you! Am I doing okay?”

“Yeah,” I got out. It was becoming increasingly hard to talk. “If you want to see fireworks, curl your fingers so your palm is rubbing my clit.”

Five seconds later, I was moaning in ecstasy, waves of pleasure engulfing me with every motion. I was dimly aware that Halee’s breathing had gone ragged again, and found myself wondering if she was capable of another orgasm.

My hand dipped. She was kneeling on the bed as she finger-fucked me, and I cupped her backside, my long fingers delving between her legs and into her dripping cunt. Finding her clit with my fingertips, I went to work, and her first cry of pleasure was all it took to push me over the edge.

Surges of unimaginable rapture lifted me up and carried me away, my body jerking spasmodically until, barely able to breathe, I pushed her hand away. Halee’s fingers eased themselves from my dripping cunt, and she laid her head on me, burying her face in my boobs. A few seconds later she was coming again, her body convulsing as she made those same little noises as before. Finally she collapsed in my arms and was still.

We lay there like that for long moments, holding each other, sharing occasional caresses.

I finally lifted my head and looked into Halee’s eyes. I saw no sorrow there, no uncertainty. Perhaps for the first time since I’ve known the girl, she seemed perfectly content.

“That was further than I meant to go,” I told her.

She smiled. “I’m not sorry. Are you?”

I had to laugh. “I’m not if you’re not.”

“But there’s a lot more we can do,” she said. “Maybe not tonight, but soon?”

“Count on it,” I said with a grin.

“You know what’s weird?” she said. “I’m starving now. I think I’m going to have to raid the freezer for ice cream when I get home.”

“Why wait till you get home?”

So we got ourselves ice cream, me in my long green bathrobe, her in my short pink one. We ate in silence, smiling at each other across my tiny round kitchen table. After we’d finished she got her clothes back on, preparing to depart. We embraced in my entryway, holding one another close, and came together for a long, slow, satisfying kiss. And then she was gone.

On to Chapter Eight!