Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by kinkys_sis and kinkychic

I felt the caress on my breasts, the soft breath on my pussy. I was in heaven, with strange, wonderful feelings taking me to a place I had never been.

My eyelids fluttered open, but I didn’t want to be awake. I didn’t want the dream to stop.

In the grey predawn I saw … what? A dissipating mist, or so I imagined. For a moment, I was scared. Someone was there, or had been there, but I looked around and there was no one. It must have been a trick of the morning light, or perhaps the remnants of my dream.

And the dream – my God. It was still vivid in my mind, and the tingling was still surging through my veins. This was a new feeling I didn’t understand.

With a shock, I saw I was naked. My nipples were so stiff they nearly hurt. My pussy felt alive, begging me to play with it. It had only been very recently that I had found out how good it felt to touch myself there. But it had only been a pleasant sort of touch that left me feeling empty and frustrated, with a need for something more. What that something was, I didn’t know.

Tentatively, I reached between my legs. Shit! I was leaking. It was everywhere, a sticky, warm mess. I hadn’t peed, and it wasn’t red, but I could smell it – a strange new smell I couldn’t describe, but kind of exciting and … and what? It must have been what they call erotic.

I lay back, half frightened, half excited. Something had happened to me, but whatever it was, I realised it wasn’t finished. My pussy was almost speaking to me: “Touch me. Play with me.”

My hand found its way back between my legs. Slowly, I caressed the swollen lips. It didn’t help. My frustration built. I didn’t know what to do. Then the alarm clock went off, and it was time to get ready for school.

***

Rosie and I had been buddies for as long as I could remember. We could talk about anything and know it would stay just between us.

“This is kinda personal,” I said. “If you don’t wanna talk about it, okay.”

“Sounds like heavy stuff,” she replied. “Go ahead.”

“Do you … do you touch yourself? You know, between your legs, I mean.”

“Fuck! Is that all? Shit, yeah. Wait – you mean you don’t?”

For the first time ever in Rosie’s company, I felt awkward. “A little,” I said, “but I just started, and it’s nice, but I feel like I’m missing something.” Then I told her about my dream, and what happened when I woke up.

She clearly gave it some serious thought, and then she said, “We never talked about this before, did we? I s’pose I took it for granted that you do the same as me. Like, I thought all girls do. But what you’re saying is you never had a come yet. So I guess your dream is your frustrations building up. Your body is telling you something here, buddy.”

“I’ve heard girls talk about coming, but I don’t know what they mean. I just pretend I do. Am I stupid or something?”

She looked at me, the way good friends do. “Lian, you know you’re not stupid. I guess that with not having a big sister, you’ve got nobody to tell you stuff. We gotta go now or we’ll be in the shit, but we’ll talk later, okay?”

It was like a weight lifting off me. I knew Rosie would tell me what I needed to know.

I didn’t see her after school, though, because our shit of a math teacher gave me detention. She was long gone when I got out. I was in a bad mood, and not really surprised when mum told me to bugger off to my room.

It was while I was getting ready for bed that I stopped to think. I looked at my top and shorts that I always wore to sleep. How had I woken up naked this morning? I couldn’t remember taking my things off, and it certainly hadn’t ever happened before.

I was tired and wanted to sleep, but felt … what? A sort of itch down there. I didn’t want to touch it because I knew it wouldn’t get me anywhere, and besides, I was still feeling cross with the world. So I just curled up and tried to sleep.

***

It was hair – long hair tickling my chest, swishing softly across my tits. Then I felt a pair of lips, barely touching my skin. I could even feel the wetness that the tongue left as it slowly circled my nipples.

Oh, please, don’t stop. It’s so beautiful. It feels so good.

Hot breath on my tummy, and still that tongue, exploring me, so exciting and driving me wild with anticipation.

I felt my legs open, spreading wide. I wanted – I needed – those lips to go lower, though I didn’t have the slightest idea why. Then the kiss, definitely a kiss, right at the top of my pussy lips. Again, the hot breath before the tongue touched the top of my slit, then that wonderful sensation as it slowly traced its way down. I was shocked someone would do that, actually lick me where I peed.

My whole being concentrated on that tongue, willing it on to keep the pleasure going. My body jerked. The tongue had pushed into me, stretching me open, but then it stopped. Was it waiting for me to ask for more? Did it want me to beg? More likely it was checking if I was still asleep.

The tongue went deeper at last, then slowly slid upwards. Oh my God, what was happening to me? Such an intense feeling of … what? I didn’t know, but I wanted it so badly. I needed some kind of release from my frustrations, and suddenly I knew that it was going to happen. I was being shown the way.

My mind exploded. Feelings like electric currents shot through my body. My hips lifted off the bed, my body arching and thrusting at the tongue as it found a spot I never knew was there. Then the lips drew me in as they sucked.

My breasts hurt. Something was squeezing them hard. My senses whirled. I was frightened by what I felt, yet I was full of joy. It was happening at last – I knew I was going to have a come. Finally, I would understand what everyone was talking about. My muscles knotted as my body tensed. I had to see. Nooooooooooo, I begged, don’t you dare wake up, but my eyes flashed open.

It was too dark to see, but I could still feel the tongue that probed me. Then suddenly, it was gone. Desperately, my hands reached down, my fingers finding the spot where the mouth had been.

I was coming. It took hold of me, shaking me, giving me the most glorious feelings I had ever known. It didn’t stop. When it seemed to be ebbing away, it would hit me again. I didn’t count. I couldn’t have even if I’d wanted to. I just rode the wave of feelings that surged through me like a raging river.

I lay there for an age, gasping for breath, until slowly I relaxed, all the time marvelling at what I had just experienced. Now I knew what it meant to come, and, oh my God, how totally fucking good was that?

With a start, I found I was holding Teddy between my legs with his nose jammed into my pussy. I lifted him up to me, and gave him a kiss. “Oh, you clever Teddy, I made you all wet and smelly.”

I cuddled him, but then the shock hit me. Teddy didn’t have long soft hair. He couldn’t breathe on my breasts, my tummy or my pussy. But someone had, that I knew for sure. I could still feel the touch of that lovely hair.

I must be going crazy. There couldn’t be any other answer. Or was that what having an orgasm did to you? Suddenly, I laughed. Yes, at last, my very own orgasm. I realised that I wasn’t scared this time. Whoever or whatever it was that had visited me had given me something very special.

***

Rosie was enthralled when I told her about what had happened. She even seemed to look at me differently, with a sort of strange sort of gleam in her eyes. “What!?” I asked her. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Oh God, no,” she said, laughing. “I think it’s great. But I don’t understand the dream bit, the lady you say was there. It’s just not possible. I think your imagination just got the better of you.”

“I guess, you must be right,” I replied, but that was just to humour her. I really didn’t believe it was my imagination, not one little bit. My lady was real. She had been in bed with me.

School was so difficult that day. My mind kept drifting back to her. Who was she, where did she come from, and how did she come and go like a ghost in the night? Common sense told me it was impossible, but all the same, I knew it had happened. Would she come to me again? I wanted her to – even more, I realised, I needed her to.

For the first time, it crossed my mind that I was dreaming about a woman and yearning for her touch. Shit! Was I a lesbian? I’d never given the slightest thought to girls, but then again, I never really thought about boys, either. Rosie was special to me, but as my best friend, nothing more. Then I remembered how she’d looked at me this morning. God! It was like she was seeing me for the first time – not just as a friend, but like somebody who was ready for sex.

Hastily, I pushed the thought aside. No, I must be wrong, Rosie is not a lesbian, I told myself. But I didn’t really know that, did I? She’d never had a boyfriend either, but so what? We were only twelve. What if she did fancy me? How would I feel?

For the first time since I’d known her, I thought about her body, her looks. She was pretty, and already she was developing a figure. I was disgusted with myself, but at the same time, the idea of her breasts excited me. I felt like a perv, actually wondering what it must be like to feel them. And her lips, they were so full and sensual. Could I imagine myself kissing them? Fuck yes! I could, and suddenly, I did. It was a shock to find out that I wanted to kiss them, and to feel our bodies pressed together.

My thoughts had gone full circle. I still wasn’t at all sure that I had read her look right. Maybe for that one moment, she found me sexy, but that didn’t mean that she wanted sex with me.

After school, she was waiting at the gate for me. “Hiya, sexy, how’s your day been?”

“Rosie, you’re taking the piss, but I don’t mind. And I’ve had an okay kinda day, I guess.”

“You think I was taking the piss, do you? I s’pose I was, really, but now I’m not so sure. Do you mind if I think of you as sexy?”

I stopped walking and just stood looking at her. “I’ve been feeling guilty all day because I kept thinking about the way you looked at me this morning,” I said, “and then I started thinking about you – I mean in a way that maybe I shouldn’t have.”

“You did? Oh, tell me. Come on. What did you think about me?”

Oh God. How was I supposed to answer her? Would she hate me if I told her the truth?

She saw my indecision. “Don’t worry. Say what you really thought. You won’t upset me, honest.”

With lowered eyes, I stammered out. “I… I was thinking about your … your breasts – and your lips.” Now I looked up at her. “And how I wanted to touch them and kiss you. I’m so sorry, I know it was terrible of me.”

She actually squealed and clapped her hands. “But, Lian, I’ve been thinking the same thing about you for months. I can’t keep my eyes off you, and you never notice. The only difference is, I didn’t feel bad at all – just excited. The only thing that worried me was how did I tell you.” She thought for a moment before adding, “When you told me about your dream, and that it was a woman in it, that’s when I knew there was a chance.”

I was lost for words. I just looked at her for what seemed an age. Then I reached my hand out to her. She didn’t hesitate. She took my hand in hers, and her face lit up with happiness. We carried on walking, not saying a word, letting our fingers do the talking as we squeezed each other’s hands.

Too soon, we reached my house. I wanted to kiss her goodbye, but I was scared of who might see us. And she had to get home or her mother would start to worry, so I couldn’t ask her to come in. “Ask your mum if it’s okay for you to stop here for dinner tomorrow. I mean, if you really want to.”

“I really want to,” she answered. “Oh, I want to.” She quickly glanced about before lifting my hand to her lips and kissing my fingers. “Put them somewhere nice for me. Promise.”

“I promise.” Then she quickly walked away. I found myself watching her gorgeous long legs and the wiggle of her bum until she turned the corner. Fuck! Why hadn’t I ever noticed how gorgeous she was?

There was a definite shake in my voice when I called out hello to Mum.

I didn’t think my lady would visit me again. I thought maybe the spell was broken, now that I’d confessed to Rosie, but I still felt my body filling with arousal and want. I had mixed feelings about Rosie and the lady of the night. Which one did I want more? It was then that I knew how inexperienced I really was, so the answer was easy. I needed my lady to show me more, to teach me so I wouldn’t feel like such an inexperienced little kid when Rosie came over. Of the two of us, she had always been the more clever and forward. Now, I had the chance to lead the way. I wanted to surprise her with how well I could do it with her.

The lady always disappeared as soon as I opened my eyes. For some reason, she didn’t want me to see her. The trick was to keep them closed and feign sleep. Tomorrow was Saturday, so there was no school. I would try to stay awake as long as I could and wait up for her.

After I had undressed and picked up my top and shorts I paused. I would stay naked and ready for my lady. I lay on my back and grabbed hold of Teddy, jamming him into my pussy, pushing him as deep as I could. His nose separated my lips as I jiggled him up and down.

The feelings began to build as I rubbed faster. Without any conscious thought, I rolled over onto my tummy and humped my hips in a rolling motion, grinding my pussy into Teddy. For the first time, I knew I was going to have a climax all on my own. I had to struggle to stop myself from crying out as I lost all control. My senses went mad. Teddy was fucking me, and it was glorious.

I clutched the pillow to my face, stifling my moans, as my body began to tense. It became difficult to keep my hips moving as I strived for release. Just as I thought I would have to turn over again so I could use my hands, I came. I was shaking with uncontrolled intensity. I rode the peak for all I was worth. I wanted it to go on forever. So very beautiful, a joy, a celebration and a true release.

I lay gasping, my thoughts in a whirl. Oh my God, what was that? How had I managed to bring myself to such a fantastic orgasm where I’d always failed before?

I felt drained, my body limp and bathed in sweat. All resolve to stay awake was forgotten as I wallowed in euphoria. Twice, I felt myself drifting into sleep, and each time I willed myself back, but I knew I was losing the battle to stay awake.

I must have been dozing, when I felt the lightest of touches and a warmth on my bum. I almost forgot, but remembered just in time to keep my eyes closed and my body loose. My heart was racing, but I managed to keep my breathing quiet and slow.

The touch became warmer, and then I knew she had just kissed my bum. I had the most stupid thought that I almost giggled – thank God I’d had a shower before bed.

A hand softly touched each cheek. Her thumbs slowly separated them. The warmth bathed my little rosebud, and I knew her face had come near. Surely not! She wasn’t going to kiss me there. But she did, her lips surrounded my rear entrance. I couldn’t help it, I felt my hole was tensing, my cheeks trying to close at this intrusion. But her fingers kept me open.

Never would I have thought of my arse having anything to do with sex, but this was so naughty and erotic. I was thrilled with anticipation. Then I almost squealed as her tongue tickled and probed. Too late, I realised that I had lifted my hips and pushed my arse up to meet her caress. She didn’t seem to notice. She only pulled Teddy out from under me.

Now I was lying with my hand trapped against my pussy. Her hand came back and very slowly she pushed through, sliding along my wet lips. A single digit was opening me, slipping inside. It was her thumb, working deep into my vagina. Her other fingers glided toward the top of my pussy, to the place I had only this very night understood was the magic spot that really got me going.

My pelvis went down, willing her deeper inside. What I now thought of as my little button throbbed with those wonderful sensations. Too late, my hand cupped her fingers, urging them on. I panicked for a moment, scared I’d given myself away, but she didn’t stop. She was too wrapped up in her efforts to bring me to climax again.

Her free hand was still pulling one cheek of my bum aside, her tongue still roving about my rosebud. I was on fire, striving towards my peak with all of my will.

I felt her pull away, her thumb slipping from me. Oh God no, don’t go, I almost called aloud. But then, for the first time, I heard her voice – just the merest whisper. “Sleep, my little one. Dream sweet and loving dreams.”

Very carefully, she was turning me over. I flopped onto my back, just as I imagined a sleeping person might have. Again, I heard her whisper. “Oh, so beautiful.” Once more she told me to sleep. Then I felt the brush of her lips on mine – a feathery touch, but it caught me by surprise. I only just managed to keep my eyes shut.

She kissed me again, more firmly this time, and I had to fight not to respond. She nibbled my ear lobe and kissed my neck before her mouth went to my breast. Gently, she drew the nipple into her mouth, her tongue playing with its stiffness.

I fought to remain still as she worked across my tummy. I knew where she was going. Quickly, please, I wanted to say. Just as the night before, her tongue opened me up and slid inside. But this time, she went further, touching everywhere she could reach. I felt a little gush and almost let my bladder go when her tongue caressed the little hole. Fuck! I had peed a little. But I felt her licking at me, and I knew she was taking what I had let go. Strangely, it didn’t shock me. Somehow, I found it exciting.

I shuddered with joy as her mouth went to my button, and once more her fingers were probing deep inside of me. One moment she licked and teased, the next she sucked, all the time fucking me with her hand.

The climax, when it came, was the most mind-blowing yet. My whole body was filled with wild sensations. My button seemed to pulse, and my vagina clamped on her fingers. Then I peaked. It was one long, rolling orgasm, or maybe it was several, one after the other. Vaguely, I heard her whispering again: “Come for me. Keep coming, my little angel.”

When it was over, I rolled onto my side, panting for breath. I felt the bed move, and then her body snuggled against my back. She was naked, too, and warm as she moulded herself to me. The touch of her skin on mine made me want to turn and hold her. But instead, I just lay still.

I felt her lips on the back of my neck, and then she whispered, “You see, I can remember now, when I came to me, and I taught, and I learned, such a wonderful moment in our life.”

It didn’t make the slightest sense to me.

Very slowly, she  lifted my arm, guiding my hand back to the heat between her thighs. She pushed my fingers through the folds of her lips and slowly rubbed herself against them. I groped for where I thought her button was, trying not to be obvious about it. That’s when I got my first surprise. It was so big and hard. I lay a finger either side of it and softly squeezed. She responded by rubbing herself more urgently, and very soon, her body was trembling against mine, and I knew she was coming.

Stopping myself from turning to her was the hardest thing I had ever had to do, but somehow I managed. She released her grip on my fingers and once more kissed my neck. “I love you my treasure, sleep the deepest sleep now. I’ll be with you again soon.”

Cold air struck my back, and I knew she was gone. Just like that, she had disappeared. Slowly, I rolled over and touched the sheets where she had lain. They were still warm. So she was real. It wasn’t just my silly imagination.

***

The following evening, after dinner, Rosie and I sat on my bed as I recounted everything that had happened. Her face expressed so many emotions – wonder, disbelief and finally, jealousy. But then she asked me to repeat what the lady had said. I concentrated hard to make sure I had it right, word for word. “You see, I can remember now, when I came to me, and I taught, and I learned, such a wonderful moment in our life.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense at all. When I came to me? and I taught and I learned. Then she says, our life, not ‘lives’. What on earth is that supposed to mean? It’s kinda stupid, don’t you think?”

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t have the slightest idea. She’s just here, and she’s teaching me. And please, please, don’t get all jealous on me. I’d hate that.”

I took her hand in mine. “You still want to kiss, or have you gone off me?”

She sat there looking at me, and I tried to read the obvious conflict going on inside her. “You’re right. I am jealous,” she said. “I can’t help it, but I still want you to kiss me. I’d rather have some of you than none at all, So I’ll share you with your lady if I have to.”

I stood up in front of her and pulled her to me. Now I was nervous. Our first kiss. In fact, my first ever. I didn’t know about Rosie. Just before our lips came together I paused. “You’re here and you’re real,” I said, “and I don’t want to be just friends anymore. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I think so,” she said, smiling a little. “You want me to be your proper girlfriend, to love me and touch me just like she does. I want that, too.”

My lips found hers. They were a bit stiff. Neither of us really knew how to do this. I pulled back. “Loosen up and kiss me for real.”

We tried again, slowly getting the feel of our lips on each other. I put my arms around her and pulled her to me. Her hands fell lightly on my back, holding me without moving.

I pressed my lips harder to hers, and then they began to move. Gradually it became a real kiss, and I felt her clutching me tighter. I let my fingers explore her back until I suddenly felt bare skin below the hem of her top. I inched up inside, kneading her flesh as I went. She held me tighter and arched her back when I trailed a finger down her spine, pausing at the waistband of her skirt. Her body pushed into me, and I eased my hand down inside.

The kiss became more passionate. I imagined I could feel her heart thumping as I held her bum through her panties. I cupped a cheek and squeezed, and she gave a little gasp into my mouth. Her own hands dropped and she held my bum, too.

Her head leaned away from me as I kissed her cheek, then her ear. A little lick, and then down to her neck. I gave her a little nip with my teeth. Then I pulled my hand out from her skirt, and slowly lifted her top. She raised her arms, and her bare breasts came into view. I stared in awe. I had never known Rosie to be shy, but now she was. When I got her top off, she tried to cover herself with her hands, but I pulled them away. “Rosie, they’re so nice!”

She stared at me with a questioning look on her face. “You really mean that, don’t you? I was so worried that you wouldn’t like them.”

Her areolas were only slightly darker than the rest of her skin, but they quite clearly protruded, topped with sharpest little points. “Your nips are standing up for me,” I said.

This was all clearly new to her. “Lian, are you taking the mickey?” But she saw my look of delight. “You’re not, are you? You really like them.”

I didn’t answer, but instead ducked my head and kissed one, then the other, before I covered the first with my lips and softly sucked. She gasped out loud. “Ooh, that feels nice.”

I rolled my eyes up at her as I continued to suckle, holding the back of her legs just below her skirt. I began to inch up and inside until both hands were cupping her bum. She clutched my hair and held me to her breast.

I began to feel like I knew what I was doing, inspired by what my lady had taught me. I dipped into Rosie’s panties and ran my fingers down the crack between her cheeks, slowly pressing deeper. Would she object if I tried to touch her there? Was it too soon? I thought of how I had felt when my lady had touched me – the shock at first, but then the pleasure of the naughtiness. So I pressed deeper and found her tight little hole. Her cheeks clenched, trapping my fingers in their grip.

I didn’t persist, but instead moved my other hand, slowly caressing as I went until I was at the front of her thigh. Still, I was sucking her nipple as I inched up to the front of her panties. My heart beat faster. Oh God, how I wanted to make her happy, to really make her my lover!

I felt the dip of her slit, but I didn’t pause there. Instead, I gave her what I thought were loving tickles. Suddenly, she tore my head away from her breast. “For God’s sake, stop teasing!” she said. “You want to feel me up? Do it!” Then she pulled me into a kiss.

My answer was to yank her panties down and shove my hand between her legs. Almost in unison, one set of fingers found her slit and the other her ass, delving deep into her crack. So desperate was my need for her, I almost forgot my resolve to impress her with my newfound skills. I made myself slow down. gently sliding one finger into her pussy. Carefully at first, I began to move in and out. Rosie rolled her hips to meet my probing digit, pulling me deeper. She got wetter as her ardour mounted, making it easier for me to add another finger.

I hadn’t forgotten her arse. I tickled around the rim of her hole, but made no effort to enter her, even though she was pushing back against my fingers.

I pulled away from our kiss and dropped to my knees in front of her. She gave me a puzzled look. “Lian, what are you doing?”

I smiled. “You’ll see.” With that, I leaned forwards and kissed the top of her slit. I kept my eyes raised towards hers while I gave her a slow lick, and I saw, rather than heard her, gasp. I pressed into her until I found her little button.

This time, she gasped out loud. She jumped, too, and her eyes went wide. “Lian, you’ve got your tongue in my pussy – surely that’s… oh shit! That’s nice.” My lips closed around her button, and I sucked quite hard before I flicked at it with my tongue. Her eyes screwed shut, and she clutched my head. “Oh my, I never … uh…” Her voice trailed away as she thrust her hips at me.

By now, I was fingering her pussy faster, and her juices were soaking my hand. I pressed more firmly at her arsehole. She opened her eyes once more, a look of shock on her face, and yet her whole body was trembling. I think she wanted to tell me no, but she was too late – my finger went up her arse.

It was enough to send her over the edge. Her grip on my head tightened, and she leaned into me, going taut all over as she built to her climax. I could barely move my fingers, but my tongue still did enough to make the orgasm rip through her.

I eased her backwards onto the bed. Her chest heaved as she stared up at me. Finally, she spoke. “Lian, a couple of days ago you didn’t know what it was like to come. Now you’re a bloody expert at it. So yeah, I believe you about your lady. It must be true, cuz you just did things to me that I wouldn’t have dreamed of. I’ve come loads before, but never like that.”

I knew I was grinning like a bloody cat that got the cream. “I thought you liked it.”

She was looking at me in such a new way. I felt so happy. Then she said, “You stuck your finger up my arse, I wanted to stop you. I thought it would be gross, but it wasn’t. It was … well, it was different – but nice.”

***

That night I slept the deepest sleep. I was so tired from being awake most of the night before. In the morning I was naked again, and I soon found that my pussy was sticky and wet. She must have come to me during the night. The sad thing was I didn’t remember any of it.

Later, I met up with Rosie. We were going for a walk in the park, nothing special, just happy to be together. She grabbed my hand. “Let’s go somewhere where I can kiss you,” she said.

It took forever to find a quiet spot, but as soon as we did, Rosie almost jumped on me. The most beautiful lingering kiss was made even better when she pushed her tongue into my mouth – a new experience for me, and I loved it.

Some sixth sense told me we were being watched. I opened my eyes and peered over Rosie’s shoulder. Not too far away was a woman – a truly beautiful woman. She wasn’t actually facing our way, but I felt sure she was looking at us. I think it might have been her hair, which was long, thick and dark, just like mine, but whatever it was, I suddenly knew it was her. My lady.

I pulled back from the kiss. “Rosie, she’s here watching us, look.” But when I looked back to where she had been, there was only a vague misty shimmer, and then nothing.

“I don’t see anyone. You sure?” Rosie asked

“I swear she was right there, by those bushes. I know it was her. Come on.”

We went to where I’d seen her standing. “There, look. You can see by the marks in the grass.”

“Okay, I can see someone’s been there. But where the fuck did she go?”

I told her about the mist and the little shimmer. “It’s just like when she disappeared in my room,” I said. “Why won’t she let me see her?” I thought for a moment. “God, it felt like I knew her. Like I’ve seen her somewhere before. And her hair, it’s exactly like mine, but she’s way prettier than I am.”

Rosie laughed. “Hey, come on,” she said. “You’re my one helluva sexy girlfriend.” She stroked my cheek softly. “We’re lovers now, you and me, and I couldn’t be happier, but your lady kinda worries me. Don’t get obsessed with her, cuz I need you. I love you, Lian. I s’pose I probably always did, but I just didn’t know it.”

I held her tightly and kissed away the little tear on her cheek. “Don’t worry, darling. It’s just so confusing. But I promise, you come first. You have my heart, no one else, and I love you, too. I know that now.”

***

I was determined to get to the bottom of things, and that very night – if she came. I had the glimmer of an idea in my mind I thought might work, how I could catch her unawares without her disappearing on me. The more I thought about it, the more confident I was.

I lay there in the dark, thinking about Rosie. How I’d made her come, and how she had returned the favour. I hadn’t been able to take my eyes off of her as she ate my pussy and brought me to the most amazing climax. Maybe it was because I got to watch her, but it was by far the best climax I’d had yet. It was hardly surprising that soon I was playing with myself, picturing Rosie eating me out.

But then I stopped. I had to pretend to be asleep, just like before, and if I was busy playing when my lady appeared, she’d know I wasn’t asleep. So it was with a massive effort that I calmed myself and lay still, naked and ready.

I was at the point of deciding she wasn’t coming, and ready to give in to sleep, when I felt a presence. She was there, I knew it. I tried to breathe slowly and shallowly, to calm my racing heart.

Just as before, it was the lightest feather of a touch. A finger tracing around my breast and then the lips closing around my nipple. The familiar tickle of hair on my tummy. The kisses working slowly down. I struggled to remain still as she reached my pussy. She eased my legs apart, and then her tongue was there, delving into me.

I was already in a heightened state of arousal, and my climax came so much faster than before. She had a way of keeping it going, lifting me to a peak of ecstasy, then easing me off before quickly bringing me back. It was orgasm after orgasm.

When she finally let me relax, I prayed that she would lie down with me again. For a moment I thought she had gone, but after a few seconds, the bed jiggled, and I sensed her body alongside me. I heard her whispering, just like before, although this time I couldn’t make out the words. I rolled a little so as to almost face her, and then lay still.

She took my hand and began to knead my fingers into her hot pussy. I felt her clit. Rosie had told me that’s what it was called. It seemed to jerk as she rubbed my fingers across it. I could tell that she had her own fingers inside her, moving them in and out. It was easy to tell when her climax was close, the way she began to tremble and arch her body.

I heard her gasp, and then she was coming. Ever so slowly, I lifted my head and brought my lips to hers. As I had hoped, wrapped up in her climax, she didn’t seem to notice what I was doing. Instead, she kissed me back. My fingers were now busy working her clit and keeping her orgasm going. Her kiss became more passionate, and this was when I made my move: I rolled over onto er, not forgetting her pussy for a second.

She wrapped an arm around me and held me tight as her orgasm swept through her. All the time, our lips were locked in a wild, bruising kiss.

Her body went limp, but still she clung to me. Then she spoke. “You planned that, I remember now. I should never have let me do that. It was wrong. Oh, what a complicated mess! I shouldn’t ever have come back, but you needed help. I needed help, so I came.”

“Is it alright if I put a light on? I want to see you, please don’t disappear like before.” I asked her.

She switched the bedside light on herself. I eased off of her and I gazed in awe at her body. “Oh my God,” I said. “You’re so beautiful, I …”

“No, you’re beautiful,” she replied. “It’s you.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “You never make sense.”

“How clever I was,” she said. “I am you and you are me, or what you will be. I’m your future, what you grow up to be. I shouldn’t be here. I can’t won’t be allowed to come back anymore. So tonight we say goodbye – well, in a way.”

I tried to wrap my mind about  what she was saying. It was impossible to believe, and yet I knew she was telling me the truth.

“You’re from the future,” I said. “You’re me in a few years’ time.”

She smiled up at me. “I just wanted to help you, or me, get through a little crisis in your life. You know that Rosie was supposed to go off with her parents the other day, but after you told her you wanted to kiss her, she asked them if she could stay with you.”

Of course, I did know.

“Well,” she – I mean I – went on, “if she’d gone with them she would have met someone, and you wouldn’t be together now. I knew how things had to turn out. I knew how much I loved her, and I helped you – us – along. I had to make sure I spoke to her this time around, you see?”

I didn’t know what to say. It was too much to take in, but I knew I loved this person, this … me. How very strange.

“Can you stay awhile?” I asked. “Not rush away – not just yet?”

“Oh, I know what happens next,” she said. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re about to make love to me, properly this time, and I wouldn’t want to miss that.”

Well, it was more than proper. It was glorious. We both knew what the other liked without having to ask, or to think. It was the night of my life, the one I would never forget.

Afterward, we lay cuddled in one another’s arms, until finally she said, “I have to go now. You and Rosie will be happy together for much longer than you might imagine, but I must not tell you any more. I’m sorry, but I can’t. I won’t be allowed to return, but don’t feel sad, because I’m always there inside of you. Now kiss me goodbye.”

We shared a wonderful kiss for what seemed an age. I didn’t see her go. One moment we were together, and the next I was falling asleep, alone, and yet not.

The End

A quick recap of the Story Thus Far: Rural paramedic Nettie Hastings finds herself in the middle of a flurry of unexplained overdose calls and, with the help of her best friend and former lover, Terry Wilder, has begun putting clues together linking the source to her own hometown. Some suspect Terry’s involvement, including police chief George Fronse, as Terry’s ex-wife is a convicted drug trafficker. A drug raid on an abandoned meat locker goes awry, and Nettie’s father is killed in an explosion. A DEA agent named Bridgette Ramscone is brought in to work the case, and she seems to take a special interest in Nettie who, in the meantime, has entered into a clandestine affair with Terry’s preteen daughter.

For a more detailed breakdown of this story’s chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

by Rachael Yukey

Halee and I ended up watching Top Gun, as we’d told Terry we were going to do a week prior. I brewed tea, and Halee made popcorn. Snacks and drinks in hand, we snuggled up together on the couch.

During the shirtless volleyball scene, Halee snatched up the remote and paused the movie. “Are those guys hot, do you think?”

I pursed my lips, wondering where she was going with this. “Yes, I’d say so.”

“Like, if you met them in person, maybe you’d want to have sex with them?”

“If I could’ve met Val Kilmer at that age, he’d probably have had his way with me,” I replied with a snicker.

“I don’t see that,” she said. “When I see that lady they call Charlie, I get tingly and start wondering what her boobs look like. When I see the guys, I guess I can see that they’re good looking, but it doesn’t do anything for me. Y’know?”

I squeezed her tightly. “I do know. I told you before how I had zero interest in men until I was sixteen. That’s when I figured out that I’m bi.”

“So maybe I just think I’m a lesbian, but when I get older I might realize I’m bisexual?”

“I think who you are now isn’t necessarily going to be who you are five years down the line,” I said after giving it a moment’s thought. “Right now, you’re sexually interested in girls, but not guys. So for you to say you’re a lesbian now is totally right.”

Halee thought about that for a moment. “Lesbian, subject to revision,” she said. We both cracked up.

After the movie had ended and the TV turned off, Halee and I began to gently make out. Then it was less than gentle. Soon hands were under bathrobes, fingering each other’s dripping pussies.

Halee was panting in my ear. “I want to eat you again.”

“Ever heard of sixty-nine?” I replied.

We ended up with me lying on the couch, Halee on top as we ate each other out. It felt so incredible, having my clitoris licked while my tongue was buried between her pussy lips that I came in record time, after which I flipped Halee on her back and dove between her legs.

“I liked it when you put your finger inside,” she said, shuddering and gasping as my tongue made contact with her clit.

I lifted my head. “Do you want me to try going in all the way?”

“Kind of, but I’m nervous. Do you think it’ll hurt?”

“It did for me,” I told her, “but it didn’t last long. And it was all upside after that.”

“Then I want to.”

I made her wait while I ran into my bedroom and retrieved a squirt bottle decorated with watermelon artwork.

“What’s that?” she demanded to know.

“It’s a sexual lubricant,” I explained. “It’ll make things extra slippery. I keep some around for company.”

We shared a laugh as I knelt between Halee’s legs. “What’s with the watermelon?” she asked.

“It’s flavored,” I said. “The regular stuff tastes disgusting. I tried to eat someone after using it once. It’s a mistake you will not make twice.”

I squirted some on my fingers, and rubbed it around inside her slit.

“Oooh,” she said, as my gooey fingers slid across her clitoris, “I think I like that.”

Lowering my face to her cunt, I extended my tongue and went to work. As her breath began to hitch, I slid a freshly lubed finger into her opening, just until I met resistance. I simply held it there, moving with Halee as I drove her to the heights of pleasure with my tongue.

When her orgasm hit, the now-familiar sounds issued forth, and her vagina gripped my finger, I drove it deeper with one swift thrust.

“Oof,” Halee grunted, then cried out as a second orgasm carried her away. An even stronger one, it seemed. I rode with her, a single finger deep inside, my tongue pressed against her clit.

When it was over I withdrew my finger, got myself onto the couch, and pulled her into my lap. She curled up, and I drew her close.

“You okay?” I asked, once her breathing had slowed.

“Yeah,” she said. “It didn’t really hurt… it just surprised me. And having your finger way up in there…” she giggled. “Well, you saw what happened.”

“Does it hurt now?”

“Not really. Did I bleed? I’ve heard people sometimes bleed.”

“Let me look,” I said, shifting Halee from my lap to the couch cushion. Moving her leg aside, I examined her vulva, but didn’t find any blood. “Looks hemostatic to me.”

“Hemo-whatsis?”

I chuckled. “Hemostatic. Medical term. Means it’s not bleeding.”

“Good. I was worried about ruining your couch.”

“Seriously? This couch is a turd. When I move, I’m chucking it.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Are you moving?”

I leaned back. “Dad left me his house,” I said. “I haven’t decided yet if I want to move into it, or sell it and buy something a bit smaller. But either way, yeah, I think it’s time to get out of this apartment. And his furniture is way better than mine, so most of what I have here I’m just gonna ditch.”

She settled back into my arms. “Nettie,” she said, after a moment of silence, “you said you would hate yourself if you let this happen. I hope you don’t still feel that way.”

I hesitated before speaking. To be honest, I’d simply ceased to examine my feelings about the right and wrong of taking Halee as a lover.

“No,” I said with a shake of the head, “not anymore. I felt a little guilty at first, but you obviously want this, and I guess you’re old enough to make up your own mind.”

“Do you think Chelsey Milne is old enough?”

My head jerked forward in surprise. “Wait… why?”

Halee wouldn’t meet my eyes. “Because she made that comment about kissing girls sounding like fun. And she’s coming by for a sleepover with Naomi tomorrow night. And because ever since Naomi told us about what she said, I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“You’re attracted to her?” My mind was awash in possibilities, my body beginning to throb all over again.

Halee continued to study her hands, now twisting nervously in her lap. “Does that bother you? I mean, that I’m attracted to someone else?”

I hugged her tightly. “Jeez, no,” I said. “Even if we were an exclusive couple, people are attracted to other people sometimes. That just happens.”

Now she turned her head to face me, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Are you attracted to her?” she wanted to know. “Because I saw the way you reacted when Naomi was talking about Chelsey kissing girls.”

I grinned. “Guilty as charged, your honor.”

“So would you be upset if I, um…”

“Did something about it?” I laughed. “Seducing Chelsey: good. Not telling me every little juicy detail: bad.”

She considered that for a moment. “I know it’s a weird thing to think about,” she said, “because I’m still just a kid. I’m not sure if I’m in love with you, or even what that really means… but I do care about you a lot. I won’t do anything with anyone else if it would hurt you.”

I was so absurdly touched that I found myself fighting tears. I snuggled her even tighter, one hand wrapping around her head and pulling it to my breasts. “That means a lot to me, Halee,” I said, “but you don’t have to worry. I care about you, too, but I don’t own you. I don’t see any reason we need to be exclusive.”

She nodded slowly, her cheek grazing my nipple in a most delightful manner.

Five minutes later we were lying on our sides on the floor, faces buried in each other’s pussies. Halee was finger-fucking me with gusto; I refrained, figuring it would be better to not put anything in her vagina until she’d had a day or two to heal.

As my orgasm took me, I found myself surrendering the last vestiges of shame. This is right, I thought, as we held each other tightly in the aftermath. Nothing has ever been so right.

***

The next morning I’d scheduled a short pre-funeral visitation for anyone who had been unable to make it the previous evening. I was once again standing alongside Dad’s casket, doing my best to be gracious as people filed past.

After the first twenty minutes, foot traffic eased considerably. I was sitting alone next to the casket, watching a handful of guests mill about in the lobby. A tall, spare man with close-cropped hair just beginning to gray strode into the viewing room. He was wearing a black suit and tie, and was holding hands with a woman in her mid-thirties, an elegant lady with shoulder-length brown hair wearing a black skirt and white blouse with a black scarf draped around her neck.

The couple was followed by two lovely young women wearing somber, restrained dresses of maroon and green, with a girl in her mid-teens bringing up the rear. The woman wearing the maroon dress was as tall and dark as I am, a virtual duplicate of me except that her glasses were framed in purple instead of orange. The lady in green was short and blonde. The teen had brown hair with pink highlights, and was wearing a black dress that she looked distinctly uncomfortable in.

“Uncle Jason!” I exclaimed, hugging the man as he drew close.

It had been almost a year since I’d last seen my mom’s brother Jason Hanson, his wife Lisa, and their daughter Victoria, she of the pink-highlighted hair. More like two years since I’d seen Jason’s eldest daughter Julie, who really does look just like me, or her partner Mallory. I lived with Jason and his family for almost a year when I was ten; a horrible, traumatic time that I’ve mostly blocked out. Not through any fault of theirs, mind you. These people are probably the only reason I’m still alive.

Pushing back the half-remembered images before they took root in my mind, I gave Lisa a warm hug.

“How’re you doing, sweetie?” she murmured in my ear.

“I’m okay,” I told her, then opened my arms just in time to be attacked from both sides by Julie and Mallory. They make an odd pair; tall and short, dark and blonde, bouncy and somber. But they’ve been a couple since they were kids.

Vicky hugged me as well, a more perfunctory embrace than the others had bestowed. I understood; to her I’ve always been the much older cousin that she sees maybe twice a year or so.

“It’s good to see you, kiddo… circumstances notwithstanding,” said Jason.

“Really good,” said Julie, her smile brightening the room. “We’ve missed you.”

I reflected that Julie is the only person I know who can seem bubbly at a funeral without anyone taking offense. Cheer and enthusiasm seem to ooze from her pores.

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said. “It has been awhile.”

Jason, Lisa, and Vicky live in Dickson, almost a four-hour drive southwest. Julie and Mallory live in Colorado. Jason’s story isn’t so very different from Terry’s; he had a career in entertainment – music, in his case – which he gave up upon becoming a single father. The big difference is that Jason wasn’t as well-off as Terry, and still needed to earn money. He became a paramedic while I was staying with them. In fact, he’s the reason I got into this line of work.

Despite my best efforts, a wave of memory washed over me. Jason in his recliner, poring over the big stack of medic school textbooks I hadn’t been able to resist delving into myself. Lisa’s belly slowly blooming as Vicky grew inside her. Julie, bubbly and fun, except when she was hunched over the table absorbed in her electronics projects. Quiet Mallory, serious on the outside but with an inner strength that was apparent even at age eleven as she endured the twin struggles of breaking away from her parents’ religion and watching their marriage fall apart. It took a few months for me to realize that Julie and Mallory were a lot more than just friends.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said. “You guys need a place to stay?”

“Naw, we’re covered,” said Jason. “There’s this scraggy-looking motel just east of town; we’ll grab rooms there. We have to drive back first thing in the morning.”

“Oh, God,” I countered. “Please tell me you’re not staying at Milton’s.”

Lisa smiled. “It does kind of look like a good place to pick up crabs or something, doesn’t it?”

I shook my head. “Let me put you up at Dad’s place. There are, like, four bedrooms there.”

“Are you sure?” said Mallory. It was the first she’d spoken, but she’d always been the quiet one. “You’ve got a lot going on… we don’t want to be any trouble.”

“I’m very sure,” I said. “I’d love to get caught up this evening.”

More guests were approaching. Jason gave me another hug. “We’ll see you in awhile, then.”

Fifteen minutes later, Terry, Halee, and Naomi appeared, this time with Dawn in tow. That wasn’t a surprise; Terry let me know they would be there, and that little Maya would be attending the funeral but had opted out of seeing a dead person. Terry had seemed a bit apologetic about that, but I assured him that it was fine; I hate it when parents force kids into something like that.

I caught a glimpse of Maya out in the lobby, in the company of her friend Gina. Gina’s mom, Theresa, was riding herd on both girls. Theresa graduated high school with me, then married young and had Gina at the tender age of 19. I sometimes wondered what her husband would think if he knew that she had gone through an experimental phase with girls during senior year, and that she’d hooked up with me a number of times. Or that we’d hooked up behind his back maybe half a dozen times since then.

A line was beginning to form, so Terry and the girls passed by more quickly this time – spending a moment at the casket, hugging me, moving on in favor of the next person. Looking back towards the lobby again, I almost did a double take at the sight of Agent Bridgett Ramscone striding purposefully through the double doors. She walked into the chapel as if she owned the place, made her way to the end of the mercifully shortening line of humanity, and settled in to wait. I couldn’t remember ever seeing someone look so utterly relaxed, yet completely aware of their surroundings.

The two people in front of her were Dad’s sisters, and they took a bit more time than the others had. I forced myself to give them my attention, surreptitiously watching Agent Ramscone out of the corner of my eye. She seemed to be in no hurry.

Finally they moved on, and she stepped forward. There was only ten minutes to go before the funeral, and she was the last one in line.

She gazed into the casket for almost a full minute, then turned towards me. “Ms. Hastings,” she said, “I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you,” I said, inclining my head slightly.

“You may or may not have heard this yet,” she went on, “but your father died heroically. He saved the life of the very girl that you transported.”

“I just heard yesterday evening,” I informed her, “but thank you for making sure I knew.”

She gave me a secretive little smile. “We’ll talk later.” She took my hand in hers, gave it a squeeze, then turned and strode towards the lobby, leaving me wondering what in the world she thought we had to talk about.

The funeral passed easily enough, and without much of the usual bullshit. Dad had been friends with his pastor, who talked easily and humorously about him, painting a reasonably accurate portrait of the man. The graveside ceremony was marred by a chill spring rain, resulting in a thinner crowd than there otherwise might have been. As immediate family I got to stand under the awning; others were not so fortunate.

Naomi and Dawn huddled together under a single umbrella; Terry and Halee stoically endured the drizzle. On the periphery I spotted Bridgett, looking completely at ease under a large umbrella that was the same black as her clothing. I wondered if it was government issue.

The reception was held at Dad’s house, invitation only. The only people I’d invited who weren’t family or friends of my dad were Terry and his girls, because they’re the closest thing to a real support system I have, and I wanted them there.

During the reception I started to re-evaluate my almost-made decision to sell the place. It’s a beautiful, spacious house, with oak wall paneling and log beams on the ceilings. Looking around the living room, I thought that with a few carefully arranged tapestries to dampen reverberation, it was the ideal size and shape to make my audio system sing.

As the reception wound down, Uncle Jason and his brood took their leave. They’d decided to stay the night with me at Dad’s place, but had some visiting to do first.  Jason had planned to drop in on an old friend, while Julie and Mallory wanted to visit Sheriff’s Deputy Cindy Koep, who’d grown up with them in their home town.

As they departed, long-suppressed visions of my tenth year flashed through my head. Cindy Koep had been Cindy Moen then, and along with Julie and Mallory had been part of a circle that had come together to protect me from… what? I couldn’t remember.

“We’re taking you to dinner tonight,” said Jason. “No arguments, okay?”

My mom stuck around to help me clean up. She chattered animatedly about the past, and we actually managed to have a decent conversation for a change.

Finally on my own, I was lounging back in Dad’s recliner, allowing memories to wash over me, when the doorbell rang. I was startled from my reverie; who would possibly be calling? I wasn’t expecting Uncle Jason back for hours yet.

Pushing myself out of the chair with an effort, I made my way to the door. DEA Agent Bridgett Ramscone waited on the doorstep. It was the first time I’d seen her in anything other than her sensible black suit. She was wearing designer jeans that hugged her hips, cowboy boots, and a fleece-lined denim jacket. Instead of the usual bun, her hair was loose around her shoulders.

“Are you going to admire the view all afternoon, or are you going to invite me in?” she inquired.

I realized that I’d been gawking. Embarrassed, I stepped to the side, holding the door open. “Please, come in,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster.

She stepped inside, pulled her boots off, and cast her eyes around the spacious open-concept living area. “This is beautiful,” she intoned, sounding as if she meant it.

I smiled as I gestured for her to follow me into the living room. “Dad owned the local lumber yard. He was pretty chummy with all of the contractors and got good deals on anything he wanted done for himself. He had this built after he married my stepmom. Have a seat.” I gestured towards one of the two matching recliners, seating myself in the one that had been Dad’s favorite.

“By ‘stepmom’,” she said, “you mean Tracy Hastings, maiden name Belgarde. Married your father in 2010, died in a snowmobile accident in 2018. You personally responded to the accident scene. You got her to the hospital alive, but she didn’t make it.”

I raised my eyebrows, but said nothing,

“As for the house, and the lumberyard,” she went on, “you’re now the proud owner of both. Have you decided to liquidate, or hang onto them?”

I forced my face into impassivity. “I think I might keep the house,” I said. “About the business, I’m not sure yet.”

Bridgett nodded thoughtfully. “I think it’d be tough to walk away from this house.”

I decided that I wasn’t in the mood for whatever game she was playing. “How can I help you, Agent Ramscone?”

Bridgett grimaced. It was the first expression I’d seen on her face that didn’t seem premeditated.

“I’ll level with you,” she said. “We’re coming up snake eyes on this investigation, and I’m just about out of leash. I can’t keep this many resources tied up in a nowhere place like this – no offense – for much longer. I can stretch this out another three or four days, a week at most, and I’m going to be ordered out of here, with no answers and no action taken.”

“That really sucks,” I said, “but I’m not sure what you think I can do to help.”

“First of all, you can tell me what you know about Terrance Wilder.”

So that’s how it was. “First George Fronse, now you,” I said, my tone positively acidic. “If you’re blaming Terry for any of this, I’m not buying what you’re selling. Anyway, what am I going to tell you that you don’t already know? You know exactly what I inherited from my dad, you know who my stepmom was and how she died… now you’re gonna tell me you don’t know more about Terry’s background than I do? Especially with his ex-wife’s history. I figure you’ve plowed that field pretty deep.”

Her only reaction to my tirade was a thin smile. “So you do know. My understanding from the interviews I’ve conducted over the past week is that your friend Terry is quite secretive about his past. Until now, I have yet to talk to anyone who’s aware of his ex’s criminal conviction.”

I shrugged. “So he’s private. That’s not a crime.”

She laced her hands in her lap and regarded me solemnly. “What you probably don’t know is that there were plenty of agents involved in Kathryn Wilder’s arrest who were far from convinced that Terrance was as clueless as he claimed to be. Oh, he was never brought up on charges, because there was absolutely no direct evidence to the contrary. Tell me this much: does Mr. Wilder strike you as a stupid man?”

I snorted. “Terry’s maybe the smartest person I know.”

She nodded. “I agree. Hell, it’s not even a matter of agreement, it’s an objective fact. The man has a tested IQ that makes most of us look like carrots by comparison. He ought to be in a lab somewhere curing cancer or inventing warp drive, you know?”

I found myself nodding in agreement. She wasn’t wrong.

“So you’ll forgive us if we’re a little skeptical that a man that bright lived with the top dog of a multi-million dollar international drug trafficking ring for ten years, had four children with her, and was utterly oblivious to what was going on. I’m not even suggesting that he was necessarily involved, just that he had to have at least known she was doing something illegal.”

I shrugged. “Are you suggesting he’s involved in what’s going on around here? I think that’s ridiculous. We were together on the Sam Jensen call; he was as perplexed as I was.”

Bridgett shook her head. “Honey, in my experience, most men that intelligent fall into one of two categories. They’re either socially inept and can’t get laid if their lives depend on it, or they’re… well… really scary people. Sociopaths, or worse. He might not have been as perplexed as he led you to believe.”

“Do you have any actual reason to think he’s involved, or just weird theories about how smart guys interact socially?”

“We have reason to believe there are very prominent international traffickers conducting some kind of operation in the Franklin County area. That’s how this all started. And we figure they have to be involved with what happened at the former meat locker. I can’t go into detail, but there’s a great deal of money and organization wrapped up in what was going on there.”

She sat forward. “But here’s the thing. There’s no way in hell that they pulled it off without local contacts and assistance. They set up some fairly sophisticated infrastructure to get supplies in and out, and electrical power to a facility that hasn’t been hooked to the grid in thirty years. Not to mention drawing in a number of local young people as guinea pigs without raising any red flags… until those young people started to get sick.”

“And you think Terry is part of that.”

“Not necessarily, but only because I know it’s a mistake to jump to conclusions. Do that, and your brain shuts down. A number of my agents are absolutely convinced that he’s involved. On what evidence, you might ask? It’s very simple: two of the traffickers who led us to start keeping a closer eye on this area in the first place are people who have had past dealings with Kathryn Wilder’s organization.”

I leaned my head back, gazing up at the ceiling. What she was hitting me with was a more sophisticated version of George Fronse’s paranoia. This time I wasn’t buying it even a little bit.

“If you really think Terry would help set up a drug operation in a place where his kids might be impacted, then you don’t know him,” I said at last. “Those girls are his world, and you’d know that if you saw them together. He wouldn’t put them at risk, even if he was involved in something like that.”

“Oh, I have seen them together,” Bridgett said, “but only in public settings. They look like the picture-perfect Leave it to Beaver American family, and in 2022 that by itself is kind of weird to see. The only thing missing is a mom in an apron. In private, you’d say he’s a devoted father?”

“Oh, Christ, yes,” I replied. “He spends tons of time with them, helps them with their homework, takes them places. Exactly the kind of dad mine wasn’t, to be honest. They adore him.”

“Has he said anything regarding his ex-wife’s activities that would lead one to believe he might have known what she was doing?”

“He’s barely talked about it at all,” I replied, electing not to tell her that I myself had only learned this very recently, “but he says he didn’t know. He told me that she had a lot of money invested and it was doing well, so he never questioned why she was rich. I believe him.”

A thought struck me. “Have you questioned those traffickers you were keeping an eye on? That’d probably be more useful than talking to me.”

She sighed. “Of course we have. But they’ve got themselves set up perfectly. Ordinary apartments, ordinary jobs in one of the neighboring small cities… all the outward appearances of ex-cons trying to get a fresh start. More than that, they were smart enough to not run like hell after the meat locker operation got hit. And these guys have been through the wringer enough times that being shaken down doesn’t ruffle their feathers. They’ll answer enough simple questions to look good, and then lawyer up the moment the questions get hard. And with the only evidence being their presence, the moment they say the word lawyer we pretty much have to let it go. There’s no point in continuing.”

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Well, I was uncomfortable. Bridgett Ramscone, damn her, seemed to be perfectly at ease.

“Look,” Bridgett said at last, “you’re probably right about Terry Wilder. I admit that I’m grasping at straws here. I do think it’s a damn strange coincidence that he moved out to this backwater for no apparent reason, and then four years later some of his ex-wife’s former business associates appear in the same area and all this happens. But coincidence is all I have, and it’s not enough to condemn a man. You might as well forget I said anything.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” I said slowly, choosing my words with care. “If Terry’s as smart as you think he is, would he paint a target on his back like this? All this circumstantial stuff… yeah, it seems to point straight to him, doesn’t it? But he’d know that, wouldn’t he? I would think he’d be smart enough to not shit where he eats.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously, come work for me. I could have you in a training seminar starting next week. It’s a major flaw in the argument, and it’s been bugging me, but I wouldn’t have expected a layperson to see it. And now that I think about it…” she stopped talking.

“It’s more like someone is setting it up so it looks like he might be involved,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s what I’m thinking. It’s not even like someone is trying to take him down, just generate enough suspicion to create a distraction.” She sighed heavily and sat back. “Which of course leaves us exactly where we were before. I’m going to stretch this out for as long as I can get away with it, but by this time next week my superiors are going to order me back to Minneapolis.”

She laced her hands across her belly. “That’s as far as I can go without letting you in on confidential information. With your knack for deduction, I’d love to have you look over all of the evidence, but I’d never be able to clear it with my bosses. Forget about it.”

“Works for me,” I said, relieved to be done playing question-and-answer.

But Bridgett Ramscone wasn’t anywhere near finished. “So instead,” she murmured, ”let’s talk about your relationship with Halee Wilder.”

On to Chapter Fourteen!

by kinkys_sis and kinkychic

When I open my eyes I can see this girl staring back at me. She’s sexy as fuck. The few clothes she’s still wearing are in total disarray, and her panties are exposed.

I lie there looking. I want to touch her but I’m scared she’ll run away. My eyes try to focus on those tiny panties and what they hide. Oh my God, she’s so hot lying in front of me like that!

My senses are becoming aroused. What would she do if I touched myself right now? I reach my hand downwards. She copies my movements. So she wants to play as well.

I watch her hand disappear into the top of her panties. I can see the bulge of her knuckles moving through the thin material, right where her pussy would be.

My fingers separate my labia. It feels so good when they slide into the warm, slippery wetness.

The girl is watching me, just as I’m watching her. She has a silly grin, but I don’t care because she’s fucking herself in front of me and that’s all that matters right now. I delve deeper, moving my fingers faster and faster, fascinated as she does the same.

My phone’s lying next to me on the floor. I wonder if she would let me take a picture of her. I’ll go slowly. She’ll see what I’m doing, and if she wants to stop me she can. She’s so into playing with herself maybe she won’t even notice.

I switch to the camera. It’s tricky trying to do it one-handed but I have no intention of taking my other hand out of my knickers. I keep the phone low, resting it on the floor, then click. She doesn’t seem to care. She’s too busy with her own pussy. This is so fucking hot.

My panties are becoming a nuisance so I push them down. So much better.

She takes hers off too. Her hand is poised at a slight angle above her pussy, like she wants to give me the clearest view possible. Two of her fingers are pumping in and out. I can see the way she glistens as she spreads her juices everywhere.

My phone clicks again. I hope I’ve caught the spread of her pussy lips and the way her clit pokes into view.

I reach for my own clit, rolling it between two fingers, the sensations causing me to close my eyes. I force them open again. I don’t want to stop looking at her.

I’m close to coming. She looks like she’s ready too. I want us to watch each other as we climax. Somehow I manage to click the camera once more, capturing her as she reaches orgasm.

We both lay there on the floor breathing heavily, gazing at one another’s spent bodies. When I smile, so does the girl in the large swivel mirror. I’ve always liked watching myself masturbate.

I’m stiff and cold. I don’t know how I ended up on the floor. I drank so much last night. There’s always a price to pay for that the next morning.

Slowly I get to my knees and lean against the bed to let the nausea pass. I don’t want to be on the floor anymore – it’s cold and hard, but my bed is warm and soft.

I manage to crawl beneath the duvet. I still have my clothes on, but I’ll worry about that later.

When I close my eyes the room spins.

I still feel horny.

I can’t help thinking about Jess.

***

It’d been a couple of weeks ago when I’d last visited my older sister. She’d gone out with friends and I was asked to look after Jess, my twelve-year-old niece. At eighteen, I was closer in age to my niece than I was my sister, and the two of us always had fun spending time with each other.

That particular day we played on her Xbox. Jess was so much better than me at video games, but in my defence, I had been a bit distracted.

Jess had a carefree way of lying on her tummy as she played. She would swing her legs about in excitement, her short skirt riding up and giving me constant views of her panty-clad arse from my place on her bed. At first it didn’t particularly register, but after a while I found myself sneaking a peek at her flashing knickers whenever I could.

Things didn’t improve when we went downstairs to have a bite of lunch. Jess sat cross-legged opposite me on the sofa, skirt rucked up round her waist.. She seemed oblivious to the display she was treating me to, but I was more than aware. I thought I could even see a little damp patch directly in the middle of her crotch.

I was unnerved to realise I was actually getting turned on by a twelve-year-old girl, and my own niece at that.

I took a bite of my sandwich and glanced up at Jess. She had a little smirk on her face, eyes sparkling mischievously. Did she know what she was doing to me? Was she doing it on purpose?

I felt myself flush, and looked away guiltily.

“What’s up, Becks?” my niece cooed. “I thought you enjoyed looking. You’ve been doing it all morning, after all.”

“W-what?” I stammered. “I wasn’t—”

Jess cut me off. “It doesn’t bother me, actually. I mean, my sexy auntie can’t stop herself looking up my skirt? How cool is that?”

I had no idea how to respond. I knew it was my job to take control of the situation but I simply wasn’t prepared for a scenario like this. I just couldn’t stop blushing. I began to wish my sister would hurry up and come home so I could get out of there.

Jess touched the front of her panties. “Oops, I got a bit wet down there. Must be ’cause you were looking. I bet you’re wet, as well, after staring at my knicks all afternoon.” She began brushing her fingers across the damp patch.

I was frozen to the spot, unable to speak or move. My eyes were locked onto her fingers as she rubbed herself, unable to look away. How the fuck was I being seduced by my twelve-year-old niece?

Her voice had lost some of its playfulness when she said to me, “Why don’t you do what I’m doing? I know you want to, I can see it in your face. I’d like it if you did.”

Still in a daze, I felt my hands pulling up my skirt. The tip of Jess’s tongue was trapped between her lips in anticipation, like she was about to unwrap a birthday present. I saw her eyes go wide when my panties came into view, and she began rubbing herself faster. The damp spot on her own knickers was getting bigger, but who was I to judge? – mine were soaked through as well. Without thinking, I eased the crotch aside and went straight for my pussy.

Jess let out a delighted gasp, then pulled her own knickers to one side.

A surge of lust washed over me at the sight of that gorgeous tight slit. “Open your pussy for me, Jess. I want to see inside,” I heard myself say as I spread my labia apart. “Look, like this.”

She gave another gasp, then her face lit up with a huge grin. She dipped two fingers inside her firm lips and prised them open. I could see deep inside now, the dark prick of her pee hole, the little pink swell of her clitoris.

I brought two fingers up to my own nub. “Rub yourself here, just like I’m doing.”

Now we were both strumming away keenly. I knew this must be a spot she’d never considered before, judging by the look of total surprise on her face. That look soon gave way to intense concentration as her eyes shuttered to mere slits, not quite closed but almost.

“Have you made yourself come before, Jess?” I asked, unsure if she’d know what I meant.

“I… I think so, kinda, just a bit,” she replied absentmindedly. “I’ll probably know in a minute. I never felt like this before.”

A faint voice in the back of my mind had another go at persuading me to stop this madness. What the fuck are you doing? How could you let this happen? I really should have listened to that voice, but I don’t think I was capable of stopping, even if I’d wanted to.

Jess was rubbing herself furiously, suddenly going stiff. Her legs pistoned off the edge of the sofa, hips bucking wildly. “Becks!” she wailed. “It… it’s happening!”

I’d never seen anything so fucking sexy in all my life. Just watching my twelve-year-old niece in the throes of a bonafide orgasm right in front of me was enough to tip me over the edge. Both of us had our eyes glued to each other’s pussy as we climaxed together.

I’d always had doubts that squirting was a real phenomenon, that it was anything more than porn movie theatrics or the product of overenthusiastic writers. But now I was witness to distinct little spurts from Jess as she came, the fluid trickling down her legs and onto the sofa.

She sat there exhausted, chest heaving, hand still clamped between her thighs. I got up and approached the couch, covering her hand with mine as I knelt on the floor. My other hand caressed her cheek. “Hey, clever girl. That was so hot. Did that ever happen to you before?”

Jess shook her head. “Not like that.”

“Okay. If you were in any doubt – that was definitely an orgasm.”

She gave me a big grin. “You’ve always been my favourite aunt. But now you’re even more special!”

The two of us laughed together. “We just shared something pretty amazing. I’m not sure we should have, but we did.” I leaned into her, sweeping the hair from her face. “Would you mind if I gave you a little kiss, just to kind of seal the deal?”

Jess sat up straight, her hands coming to rest upon my shoulders. “You really want to kiss me? Oh my God, yes please!”

Her lips smacked against mine enthusiastically. It was pretty awkward as kisses went, but it was also completely wonderful. When we’d finished, Jess clung to me tightly. “Becks, you’re amazing!”

I untangled myself and rose to my feet. “I think we’ve got a little cleaning up to do before your mum gets home,” I said, gesturing at the wet patch on the sofa.

She suddenly became aware of the mess she’d made. A hand went to her mouth in horror. “Oh, God, did I pee? I’m so sorry!”

“What on earth are you apologising for?” I asked with a chuckle. “It was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

***

I’m still aroused. I can’t sleep. I remember the pics I took of myself and pick my phone up to scroll through them. They’re fucking hot, if I do say so – sorta nasty and slutty.

A drunken thought enters my head before I can stop it: I bet Jess would like to see them.

I have her number.

I compose a chaotic, badly spelt message that ends with, Don’t forget to delete, will you? After hesitating a moment, then deciding it’s definitely a brilliant idea to send my twelve-year-old niece pictures of her aunt masturbating, I press send. There. Done.

Somehow I manage to set my alarm, then sleep finally takes me.

When it goes off several hours later I nearly smash it to bits as it rattles my brain with its awful noise. I lay there holding my head. Never again.

My phone pings. “Fuck off…” I groan, but pick it up anyway to see who’s texting me at this time of the morning.

It’s from Jess.

My heart skips, then sinks a little. I’ve just remembered what I sent her last night. “Oh, Christ.”

The message simply reads: WOW! XXXXXXX, but there’s an attachment with it. I open it up and find myself gawping at a close-up of my niece’s pussy. Before I can fully absorb this, my phone pings again.

I’m all warm down there thinking about you XXXXX.

Suddenly the phone rings, making me jump out of my skin. I feel a surge of guilty panic, but then see the caller is Jess. “Hi, sexy,” I tell her, the words out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I like your pic.”

“I like yours too,” she replies. “I wanted to ask you something, Becks.”

“Hmm?”

“When we were watching each other that day, did you… did you want to touch me?”

I hesitate before answering. We’d just been looking. That’s all it was – looking. But the line was thin and it would be so easy to cross. Why pretend otherwise?

“Yeah. I did. Would you have let me, Jess? Would you have wanted me to?”

“I never thought about it before that day,” she tells me earnestly. “But I’m thinking about it a lot now. I’d definitely let you. I keep looking at your pics and wondering what it’d be like to touch you, and have you touching me the same way.” A short pause on the end of the line. “Do you think we might… Are we gonna do that?”

“I think we might.” We shouldn’t, though. God knows, we shouldn’t. “Fuck… I really do want to touch you, Jess.”

Ten minutes later I’m in the shower trying to wash my hangover and arousal away. Ten minutes after that I’m beginning to feel I’ve arrived back in the real world. Down in the kitchen I drink coffee and nibble on a piece of toast.

***

Two weeks later, and I still hadn’t found an opportunity to get together with Jess – at least not when her mum wasn’t around – but we’d exchanged a few more pics. She loved to capture herself fucking her pussy and pulling her little clit. I still hoped we’d find the time to be alone one day, but I was content with the picture sharing, and at least I’d managed to bury my feelings of guilt.

I was in my room scrolling through the pics of Jess again – and thinking about sticking a hand down my panties – when the door swung open and in marched my eleven-year-old sister Lucy. The little shit hadn’t bothered to knock, and she was well aware I didn’t allow that. I quickly clicked my phone screen off. “What the fuck, Luce! You’re supposed to knock.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied haughtily. “But it’s important, and I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Cheeky little bitch. I was about to tell her to piss off, but she stuck her hands on her hips and gave me a devious smirk. “You and me are gonna play a game. First, you’re gonna show me your pussy. And that’s just for starters!”

I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. I sat there with my mouth hung open for a moment before I managed to find some words. “Now you really can fuck off, and be quick about it! Go! Now!”

My brat of a sister just stood there smirking at me. “Nope. You’re gonna show me. Then you’re gonna look at mine. And I’m not going anywhere until you agree.”

I was dumbfounded. What the hell had come over her? She’d always been an obnoxious little squirt, but to burst into my room and say something like that to me… I had no idea what to make of it. I hadn’t even considered that she might be interested in sex yet. And who taught her to use the word pussy?

I looked her over, trying to make sense of the situation. Maybe the pictures of Jess, and the thought of masturbating to them, had suddenly caused me to see my younger sister in a new light. It came as quite a surprise. I couldn’t find a chance to get together with Jess, but maybe…

Lucy was gorgeous, actually, but that wasn’t the point. There was no way she was talking to me like that. “You wanna tell me why you think you can speak to me that way? Why don’t you go and play with your teddy or something?”

Lucy’s grin grew inexplicably wider. “Actually, Teddy does feel nice to play with. He knows what I want. Now you’re gonna know, too.”

She’s gone completely mental, I thought, but before I could reply she pulled out her phone. “Maybe I should show you these before you say anything else.”

Everything became clear in an instant.

The pics! Of course. Jess must have sent Lucy my pics. The two of them were aunt and niece, but being almost the same age, they were more like best friends. And best friends shared everything.

I’d just lost all my bargaining chips in one fell swoop. My stomach lurched. This was a nightmare.

“Don’t look so worried, sis,” Lucy chuckled gleefully, scrolling through the pics of me and Jess while I looked on in horror. “This is gonna be fun! Nobody else has to see them. Well… not if you do as I say. Think about it like this: If you like Jess’s pussy so much, you’ll probably like mine too, won’t you? And my pussy’s much easier to get at. Sorta… closer to home, y’know?”

I was caught in her trap and we both knew it. My little sister was telling me she wanted us to have sex – demanding it, in fact – and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

Resigned to my fate, I let my eyes travel down her body again, and felt an all-too familiar tingle between my legs. Despite the uncomfortable situation I found myself in, or maybe because of it, I was actually beginning to get turned on, considering my sister sexually for the first time. It’s not as if I had much of a choice.

Lucy must have seen something change in my expression. She slowly began to lift her skirt. The first glimpse of her panties came into view, then more of them were revealed as she raised her skirt even higher, holding the hem with one hand while the other grasped the waistband of her knickers and tugged them down her legs.

I held my breath as my sister’s mound came into view, a few wispy hairs sprinkled on otherwise bare skin, a neat little slit intersecting each beautiful segment of labia. When her panties fell to her ankles she stepped out of them, spreading her feet apart a little so I could see clearly.

I looked up to see her confident grin had faltered somewhat. There was vulnerability there now, as if she was seeking my approval. As if she were saying, Please like me, sis.

“Luce…” I murmured, my anger at her intrusion and subsequent blackmailing all but forgotten. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

Her smile returned. “So… now it’s your turn, okay? Just like you did with Jess.”

I stood up and twisted my skirt round so I could undo the fastener. It fell to the floor and I stepped out of it. As I reached for my skimpy panties Lucy stopped me. “No, wait. Do a spin for me! I wanna see how sexy you look.”

Feeling a bit embarrassed, I did as she asked, turning slowly on my heels until she cried, “Stop!”

I peered over my shoulder and saw her ogling my arse. “Wow. Jess was right – you do have the sexiest bum.” She was gently rubbing her pussy lips, teasing at them with the tips of her fingers. “Okay, keep facing that way and take your panties off.”

She’s got an arse fixation, I thought. A flush of excitement pulsed through me at the thought. I bent forward as I lowered my knickers, deliberately keeping hold of them all the way down to my ankles. If she wanted to see my bum, that’s exactly what the conniving little imp was gonna get.

I heard her gasp and knew she could see my arsehole, and most likely the lips of my pussy too. I was kind of getting into this now, content to just stand there for a while, bent over at the hips. “You like?”

I caught sight of her through my legs. Her fingers had slipped inside her pussy lips and were rubbing more urgently now.

“Can I stand up now, Luce? The blood’s rushing to my head.”

Lucy grunted some sound of affirmation, and as I straightened I lifted my top over my head in one swift movement. When I turned back to her I was naked and horny as fuck. The look of complete awe on my sister’s face pleased me. She didn’t seem to know where to look first, her eyes roving from my pussy to my tits and then back again.

“Okay, little sis,” I said. “You started this game. Now it’s time to let me see you.”

Lucy peered down at herself shyly. “I don’t have boobs like you do, though… only small ones. You probably won’t like them.”

I gave her a chuckle. “Trust me, I absolutely love little budding titties. Come on, show me.”

She pulled her t-shirt over her head and then stood awkwardly, that worried look back again.

I walked towards her. “Luce, they’re fucking divine.” My hands enclosed the soft peaks. They were bigger than I’d expected; I was surprised she hadn’t started wearing a training bra. She stood there still while I touched them, peering down at my fingers as they brushed back and forth. “Why don’t you feel mine too, baby sis?” I cooed.

She brought her hands to my chest, tentatively placing them on my bigger breasts. I let her touch and explore at her own pace while I watched her nipples awaken, my fingers encouraging them to stiffen and grow. Her titties reminded me of little pointed cones.

Then she was pinching and flicking at my own stiffening nipples. “Shall we… do you want to kiss me?” I asked her.

She gazed into my eyes, then gave a little nod. Ever so slowly, I drew closer, my eyes never leaving hers. We let our lips brush lightly together, before pulling away for a brief moment. Lucy leaned towards me as my arms encircled her, pulling her into my embrace. Our lips came together a second time. It was a better kiss than the one I’d had with Jess. I wondered if she’d been practising with someone.

I let myself drown in my sister’s kiss, surrendering to my growing lust. I grasped her bum with both hands, pulling her hard against my naked body, lifting her up so her pussy was adjacent to mine, nipples brushing against my breasts. And then my hips were moving, our mounds rubbing, grinding together.

I could feel Lucy’s chest starting to heave as she clutched at my back. Her fingers snaked down and settled on my arse, and it was just too much for me – I had to have her. Breaking the kiss, I lowered my sister to the floor and crooned, “Come over here.”

I lay down on my bed, pulling Lucy with me. For a while we just lay there facing one another. “I kinda think you just stitched me up, little sister, but I’m glad you did. Now lay back. I’m gonna give you what you want.”

She did as I asked. I gave her another kiss before nuzzling my way down her neck, then further still until I reached her barely-there breasts. Lucy peered down at me as my lips enclosed a nipple, her mouth forming an ecstatic O. She gave a little shiver when I touched her pussy, tracing a path round its tightly shaped contours with my finger.

I carefully eased my way inside her, and for the first time I was exploring a pussy that wasn’t my own. The fact that it was my sister’s pussy made the deed all the more exciting. I felt her legs moving apart for me. When I glanced down I saw how wet she was, her need clearly as great as mine.

As my finger probed the tight hole, Lucy’s breathing took on a more laboured note and she began to wriggle about. I took her other nipple into my mouth, and she grasped at my hair, little keening noises emerging from her lips. I glanced up at her. It was plain to see she was enjoying every second of this.

When my thumb found her clitoris and brought it to life, Lucy gave a squeal of delight, her hips pushing up to meet my hand, desperate for the heightened contact.

Suddenly I realised I wanted her clit between my lips.

Not knowing what I intended, Lucy tried to stop me pulling away from her chest. On my way down, I kissed her tummy but didn’t linger. I couldn’t wait any longer.

I stretched out between her thighs, hesitating a moment. Everything we’d done so far could perhaps be forgiven as simply fooling around. Going down on my own little sister, though, had an undeniable finality to it. I wouldn’t be able to take it back.

But the sight of her glistening pink clit peeking out at me was too hard to resist. I finally trapped it between my lips. Lucy responded with a gasp that trailed off into a moan. I gently kissed the little nub, then followed that with a flick of the tongue. God, she tasted delicious – a clean, refined tang that fed my lust, yet still left me wanting more.

While I sucked her clit, I slipped another finger into her pussy, then began to work them in and out. I fucked her soft and slow at first, her juices and my saliva lubricating the tight hole.

“B-Becks…” Lucy murmured. “I… I think I’m gonna come…”

I mumbled a reply into her pussy. “I know you are, love. I want to see.”

Her hips jerked, thighs gripping my head as she lifted her knees. Then she was still for a brief moment, body pressed against mine, the tremors becoming stronger as she came. I fucked faster and licked harder as Lucy’s frantic wails filled the bedroom.

I was ecstatic. It was hard to believe an eleven-year-old could ever come so intensely, and it was me – her big sister – who’d made her do it. She was gasping for breath, her body limp.

I moved up and kissed her on the cheek. “Happy, now that you got what you wanted?”

Lucy was smiling at me, little tears teasing the corners of her eyes. I kissed them away and she whispered with trembling lips, “I didn’t know it would be so amazing.” She took my face in her hands. “I’m sorry for being such a brat, Becks. I thought about just asking, but I knew you’d get angry and say no, so I used the pics you sent Jess to make you do what I wanted. Do you hate me?”

I kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “How could I possibly hate you? Yeah, I suppose I should be bloody livid that you tried blackmailing me, but, well… I’m not, okay?”

Lucy looked incredibly relieved to hear that. “Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer.”

“Sure, okay.”

“Have you been with many girls? You seem to know what you’re doing.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that you’re the first girl I’ve properly been with?”

That seemed to surprise her. “Really? Well, if I’m your first, you did an awesome job. I never made myself come like that, ever.” As an afterthought she added, “I suppose you’re my first, too.”

“I suppose so,” I agreed.

I decided it was okay I’d sent those pics after all, but reminded myself they still needed to be deleted – from my phone and Jess’s.

Jess… I wonder how she’d feel about Lucy and me. Not jealous, hopefully. She’d be coming over for a sleepover at the weekend, so the three of us could discuss it then.

I get the feeling we won’t be doing much talking, I thought.

The End

 

by Karin Halle

A few months after Dana and her fourteen-year-old daughter Jolie became lovers, they met a girl named Monica.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and they were in a supermarket shopping for groceries. Jolie was pushing their trolley when, as they turned into the next aisle, a trolley coming fast in the opposite direction crashed into theirs.

A girl who looked to be about Jolie’s age was pushing the other trolley – in fact, she was hanging on the back of it and propelling it along like a scooter.

Dana was irked, but the girl and the woman who was with her both began apologising for the collision. In the meantime, Jolie was giggling. To her, it was all in good fun.

The woman glared at her daughter. “Honestly, Monica… I’ve asked you before not to tool around the store like that. What if you knocked someone over?”

“Sorry, Mum,” the girl meekly replied, She turned to Dana. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. That was careless of me.”

“Oh, no harm done,” Dana replied, charmed by Monica’s good manners.

By then, Jolie was tugging at the girl’s sleeve. She was anxious to make her acquaintance, noticing that the girl was like her in some ways. They were both close to the same height, about average for girls of fourteen, with thick, dark hair. But their figures were quite different. Jolie had a curvy shape and a narrow waist that emphasised her already generous bust, while this stranger was slim to the point of being skinny. Her short skirt revealed a pretty pair of legs, and Jolie found herself wondering about the parts of the girl’s body she couldn’t see.

She introduced herself. “My name is Jolie. I’m fourteen, this is my mummy, and we’re shopping for groceries,” she said in the sing-song voice she mostly used with strangers. “So, um, you’re name’s Momica, huh?”

Studying Jolie for a couple of heartbeats, the girl replied, “Well, you’re pretty close. It’s Monica, actually. This is my mum, and we’re getting groceries too.”

Dana was quick to notice that the girl seemed to be speaking far more clearly and carefully when she talked to Jolie. Intrigued, she turned to Monica’s mother, who clearly had questions of her own.

Deciding an explanation was in order, Dana told the woman about Jolie and her head injury, how it had left her daughter with the mental capacity of an eight-year-old.

“Jolie is the light of my life, though,” Dana continued, watching the girls as they got to know one another. “It’s true that she’ll never really be a grownup… but she’s the sweetest, most lovable little girl you can imagine. Oh, by the way, I’m Dana.”

“I’m Abby,” the woman replied, smiling as she extended a hand. “Nice to meet you. I see what you mean about Jolie – she seems quite the charmer!”

Glancing again at the girls, who were engaged in an animated conversation, Dana said, “They seem to be getting on quite nicely, I must say. Does your daughter have experience with special needs kids?”

“She does, yes,” said Abby. “Monica does volunteer work at a school for special children. She got into it as an elective subject that earned her extra credits at school, then decided she liked the job. The children she helps are much littler than yours, though – they’re mostly seven or younger.”

It was already evident to both parents that the girls had already developed a great rapport. Jolie was happy to have someone her own age talking to her on a level she could relate to. In turn, Monica found it to be an interesting change of pace, interacting with someone with special needs who was close to her age.

After a few minutes, Abby said, “Girls, I’m sorry to break this up… but we really do need to get on with our shopping.”

Jolie had other ideas. “Can Monica and I be friends? Can we, Mummy? Please?”

Monica nodded. “I’d like that.” She and Jolie exchanged big smiles.

That seemed to settle things. Abby and Dana swapped contact details and went their respective ways. By the time Jolie and Dana had joined a queue at the checkout, Abby and Monica had finished shopping and were passing by the entrance of the supermarket.

“Hi, Monica!” Jolie called out, waving energetically.

Monica turned, smiled and waved back.

Dana had no idea if they would ever hear from Abby or Monica again, but it hardly mattered because minutes after arriving home from the store, Jolie insisted that she be allowed to telephone her new friend. Dana tried to put her off, telling her daughter she oughtn’t to call Monica so soon after they’d first met, but Jolie was not to be dissuaded. At last, Dana reluctantly called the number Abby had given her.

When Abby answered, Jolie was right there at Dana’s shoulder, pleading, “Ask if Monica can come over to play. Please, Mummy, please?”

“Hold on, Dana. Let me talk to Monica,” Abby replied.

On her end, Dana heard Abby call out to her daughter, then ask Monica if she would like to visit the girl she’d just met in the supermarket. With no idea how Monica would respond, Dana was delighted to hear Monica say, “Sure, I’d love to!”’

Now that a get-together had been agreed upon, the two mothers worked out the details, It was decided that Abby would bring Monica over the following afternoon. Jolie was thrilled, and so, it seemed, was Monica.

***

Visits on Sunday afternoons became a regular occurrence – usually at Jolie’s house, but sometimes at Monica’s place. During these visits, Abby and Dana would sit and chat or sometimes go out for coffee. As for the girls, they chatted on the telephone nearly every day when they weren’t hanging out together.

Before long, Monica began to treat their visits as an opportunity to encourage Jolie’s mental development. It was no easy task, but she made Jolie a special project of her own. She set little lessons for her friend and worked with her to complete them. Jolie responded with enthusiasm, and over time it was evident that her capabilities had expanded, even if only a little. The girls were thrilled by the progress Jolie had made, and Dana was delighted as well.

As the girls grew closer, Jolie found herself wishing there was something she could teach Monica in return. While lying in bed one night, it occurred to Jolie what that something might be. After that, she was counting the minutes until they were able to spend time together.

That weekend, the girls were in Monica’s room, going through a story together, Monica helping Jolie with the big words she didn’t understand.

They were sitting side by side when Jolie said, “Monica?”

As Monica turned to her, Jolie leaned forward and gave the girl a kiss.

By then, Monica understood that the relationship she and Jolie had ran deeper than simply being friends, but she’d never given it much thought beyond that. All she knew was that Jolie was very, very special to her.

Jolie’s kiss was tentative; a question, an invitation.

Monica’s response was immediate. A wave of desire rolled through the girl that left her warm all over, lightheaded and eager to be kissed again.

Monica had little to no experience in dealing with sexual urges. Boys close to her own age were of no interest – so immature, practically all of them. She expected to find love with a man one day, perhaps after university… certainly not in the immediate future.

On the rare occasions when Monica felt the need to pleasure herself, she never fantasised about specific males, or even sexual acts. Instead, she would picture herself strolling through a flower garden at twilight with a tall, handsome man in a turtleneck sweater… or recall a teenage boy she’d seen who had gorgeous orange hair that put her in mind of a sunset. The idea of lying naked in the arms of a man seemed distant to her, with no relevance to her everyday life.

Now, though… Monica felt something new, something unexpected. And she wanted more.

Jolie had cautiously initiated the kiss… and now Monica returned it with a passion that shook her to the core. My gosh, she told herself, I’m in love. I love Jolie!

She’d never thought of herself as someone who could love another girl. But now she did… and it made perfect sense, especially with her sweet, beautiful friend. She wrapped both arms around Jolie. This feels so good. So right.

As for Jolie, she was beside herself with joy. She instinctively sensed that, unlike herself, Monica was inexperienced at playing loving games. This was her opportunity to be the instructor, to teach the teacher.

They kissed again. This time, Jolie parted her lips, allowing the tip of her tongue to trace the outline of Monica’s mouth. With only an instant’s hesitation, Monica responded, and their tender kiss soon grew deep and passionate.

Jolie’s hand blindly found the front of Monica’s top. Cupping her friend’s small but flawless breast, she gave it a playful squeeze, then tweaked the nipple.

Monica gasped, already wondering, How did she learn these things? Did another girl teach her?

Jolie’s hand slipped beneath her t-shirt, then into the cup of her bra. And with that, Monica was barely able to think at all.

It felt lovely, so much nicer than her own infrequent bouts of masturbation… especially when Jolie’s soft, warm lips brushed her neck.

“Oh,” Monica whimpered. “Oh.”

Suddenly she found herself wanting very much to take her clothes off, every stitch. More than that, she longed for her friend to be naked, too. Monica had only vague ideas about what girls did when they had sex, but she wanted to explore Jolie’s body, and for Jolie to explore hers.

As if Jolie could read Monica’s mind, she declared, “This’ll be lots better if we don’t have any clothes on.”

“Oh, okay,” Monica said and eagerly began to undress.

Delighted that her friend seemed so willing to play loving games, Jolie quickly shed her clothes too.

Now completely naked, her heart pounding, Monica turned to face Jolie. “Wh-what now?” she stammered. Oh, God. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do.

“We’re gonna play loving games!” Jolie exclaimed, all but bouncing up and down in her excitement. “First, I kiss you and touch you and lick you – all over!” She giggled. “Then, if you want to, you can do that to me.”

“Oh, wow…” Monica whispered, marvelling at how her friend managed to say such erotic things, yet make them seem innocent as a round of hopscotch. This thought vanished into the ether when Jolie’s mouth closed over her hard nipple. She moaned, cradling the girl’s face to her chest.

The thought of taking her time didn’t occur to Jolie, eager as she was to give Monica the good feelings. She let her hand trail down the girl’s body until it rested on her vulva, surprised to find it bare. How come? she asked herself. Me and Mummy both have hair down there.

Putting that thought to one side, she returned to the task at hand, easing a finger between Monica’s labia. Jolie cooed with delight to find that her friend had the wetness down there – the good kind that means you’re ready to have special feelings.

Jolie parted Monica’s labia, putting a finger to the entrance to her… What is it? Vagina, that’s the word. She carefully penetrated Monica until her fingertip touched the teen’s hymen, then quickly withdrew.

When Jolie’s virginity had been taken by her mum, the pain had been very slight, but she was unwilling to do anything that might hurt the girl she loved.

Instead, she stroked Monica’s slit until she found the little button that made the best feelings happen. Using the tip of her index finger, she gave it a feather-light caress, the same way Mummy touched hers.

“Oooohh… fuck!” Monica gasped.

Jolie broke into a huge grin. “That’s right – fuck,” she said, then giggled. “It’s what you’re s’posed to say when I do this.” She gave her friend’s clitoris a light tweak between finger and thumb.

That sent Monica into freefall, a strangled cry exploding from her lips.

I did it! Jolie exulted, working her fingertip around in tiny circles, driving Monica into a helpless tizzy. I made her have the feeling!

Tingling all over in response to the first orgasm she hadn’t given herself, Monica gave her head a little shake to clear it. She’d never experienced anything like it. But her friend wasn’t done yet. Once Monica began to catch her breath, Jolie began to lick her down there, bathing Monica’s vaginal opening with long, eager swipes of the tongue.

Within seconds Monica was coming again, something she’d never experienced before. It was lovely, but soon her vulva grew too tender, and she gasped, “Okay, Jolie, you c-can stop now.”

Jolie was ecstatic, delighted that she’d made her friend feel good. Monica’s wetness coated her lips, and it tasted wonderful. Maybe even better than Mum’s.

Once she’d recovered her breath, Monica looked up at Jolie. “I want to touch you now.”

“That’s nice, Mon. Real nice. I’d like that a lot.”

“Um, I don’t think I’m quite ready to, uh, lick you just yet, though. Is that okay?”

Jolie hugged her friend. “Whatever you want to do to me, do that.” She was already happy, but then Monica said something that made her even happier – proud, even.

“I’ve never done it before, so I won’t be as good at it as you are…”

Rolling onto her back, Jolie parted her thighs expectantly. “It’ll be good, Mon, I know it will. Don’t worry, I’ll love it. You’ll see!”

Monica reached out, placing a hand on Jolie’s thigh, then began to caress her. She was hesitant at first, but soon her excitement began to mount as the girl responded to her touch. When she lightly rolled Jolie’s nipple between her finger and thumb, it quickly stiffened, and her friend said, “You can do that harder… I like how it feels.”

Growing increasingly confident, Monica began to explore her new lover’s body in earnest, touching her legs, her breasts, her tummy.

Finally she’d worked up the nerve to touch Jolie’s pussy, and was rewarded by an ecstatic moan, followed by, “I love you, Monica,”

“I – I love you too!” Monica exclaimed, her heart pounding as she realised the truth of those words.

She continued to stroke Jolie’s slit with her index finger, and while the girl was humming happily, she soon sat up, opening her eyes. “In me, Mon. Put your finger in my… in my hole.”

Holding her breath, Monica carefully penetrated Jolie, surprised by how easily her friend’s vagina accepted her finger. My gosh, I’m touching inside her body! It was warm, snug, and slick with fluid.

“G-go in and out,” Jolie moaned. “That’s how you do sex.”

Monica did as Jolie asked, moving slowly, but increasing her tempo as the girl nodded her approval. Then Jolie said that word. “Fuck.”

In response, Monica worked her finger even deeper inside. She felt her eyes grow misty, overwhelmed by how beautiful it felt to make love to her best friend.

“Fuck,” Jolie repeated. Then her body went stiff before she began to shake helplessly, staring wide-eyed at Monica as she came, finally going slack with a deep sign.

Jolie lay quietly for a long moment, then blindly reached out for her friend.

Monica crawled into Jolie’s arms and they nestled together, whispering words of devotion as they basked in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

***

In the days that followed, then girls made love every chance they got. Monica went down on Jolie the next time they got together, and quickly decided that she loved eating pussy. Jolie then taught her the rest of what she and her mum had learned and explored as secret lovers – sixty-nining, tribbing, analingus.

Monica still had no idea how Jolie had come by her sexual expertise. She’d asked about it once, but Jolie simply shrugged and replied, “I just know.”

Two weeks after their first time together, the girls were naked and cuddling in Jolie’s bed, resting from a particularly frenzied bout of sex play.

Placing a kiss on Monica’s nose, Jolie said, “I wanna tell Mum ‘bout us being in love.”

Monica thought about it, then slowly nodded. “I guess you’re right. I don’t want to keep it secret anymore, either. So. she’ll be okay with it, right?”

“Mum? Oh, yeah, she’ll be fine.” Pushing the sheet aside, Jolie stood, then extended a hand. “C’mon, let’s go tell her now.”

Getting to her feet, Monica took Jolie’s hand – then froze as her friend led her toward the door. “Wait, wait a minute!” she exclaimed. “Aren’t we going to put our clothes back on?”

“Why?” Jolie asked. “We’re telling her me an’ you are lovers, right? This way she’ll know for sure!”

“Um, I don’t know about this… I get telling her we’re in love, but is she supposed to know that we’re having sex, too?”

“It’s ‘loving games’, Mon – that’s what I call it. And yeah, she should know!” Jolie insisted. “She won’t be mad, cross my heart! C’mon, let’s go!” She tugged at Monica’s hand.

“I feel weird about not wearing anything, though,” Monica protested. “Couldn’t we go in our underwear, at least?”

Jolie responded with a beseeching look. “But we need to not be wearing anything. It’s really, really important! Please, Mon? Pretty please with gumdrops on top?”

“Okay, okay,” Monica answered. “But only because I love you so much.” She told herself that after all, in view of what they were about to tell Dana, their nudity wasn’t a big deal. That didn’t stop her from feeling jittery, though.

Two minutes later, the girls were standing at the door of Dana’s study. Jolie reached up to knock.

“Come in,” Dana called out from inside.

Taking a deep breath to calm her jangling nerves, Monica followed Jolie into the room.

When Dana looked up, her jaw dropped at the sight of the nude girls. “What in the world…?” she began, then fell silent.

Jolie blurted, “Mummy, Mon and I have been playing loving games.” Suddenly she felt less confident about her mother’s reaction. In a smaller voice she added, “That’s all right, isn’t it?”

Dana was somewhat shaken, but there was only one possible response. “Of course it is, pumpkin.”

Something occurred to Jolie that she hadn’t yet considered. “Um, Mummy… will you still play loving games with me, too?” Suddenly remembering she wasn’t supposed to tell anyone else about that, she squealed, “Oops!” then clapped a hand over her mouth.

Good Christ, Dana thought. Well, our secret’s out. No sense denying it now. “Yes, sweetie. Of course.”

In the meantime, Monica had gone pale. “Oh my God…” she mumbled. Now she understood how Jolie knew so much about sex.

Jolie rushed over to Dana and hugged her tightly. “I’m sorry, Mum!” she wailed, “I d-didn’t mean to tell our secret.”

Gazing at Monica over her daughter’s shoulder, Dana said, “It’s okay, pumpkin. I do think you need to wash your face, though. You smell like Monica.”

“Okay!” Jolie ran off, leaving Monica ashen-faced, trembling with anxiety.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Blackstone,” the teen mumbled. “I didn’t know. I wasn’t trying to steal Jolie from you!”

“I know you weren’t, Monica,” Dana replied, looking squarely at the distressed girl. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m not upset. In fact, I think it’s wonderful that Jolie has a true friend who genuinely cares about her.”

“I do, I really do!” Monica insisted. “I’ll be there for her, forever and ever!”

Dana gave the girl a gentle smile. “I believe Jolie has a lot of love to give… enough for both of us. How would you feel about sharing her?”

Monica’s face brightened. “Oh, I’d be fine with that. I really do love her, you know.”

“So do I,” Dana agreed.

“B-but it’s not the same. I’m in love with her!”

“I am, too,” Dana said evenly, deliberately. “Sex with my daughter… it’s the most beautiful experience imaginable. But you already know that, don’t you?” She sighed wistfully. “I wouldn’t give up what she and I have for anything.” She stared intently at Monica. “You understand how important it is that you never tell anyone about this, don’t you? Not to anybody, not ever! Not even your mum. Jolie would be taken away from me, and that would destroy both of us.”

“Yes, I know. I’ll never say anything, Ms. Blackstone – I swear!”

Dana studied Monica for a long moment. “Fair enough. But please – call me Dana. Remember?”

Just then, Jolie bounded back into the room. “All clean and fresh, Mummy!” she reported.

Dana smiled at her. “Good for you, pumpkin.” She turned back to Monica. “I’ll bet you need to wash up yourself.”

Blushing deeply, Monica exited for the bathroom.

Jolie padded over to Dana and climbed into her mother’s lap. “Mummy, can I have a kiss?”

“Of course, baby.” Bending down, Dana claimed her child’s mouth in a tender kiss. But Jolie wanted more, and soon their tongues were passionately mingling.

My God, Dana told herself, I love her so desperately. She’s my North Star, my compass, my rudder. I’d be completely lost without her. 

She slid her hand down Jolie’s body until she was gently cupping the girl’s lightly-downed vulva. Not masturbating her, just touching.

When their lips finally drifted apart, Jolie looked up at her mother. “Mummy… can three people play loving games together?”

A squeaking sound was heard in the open doorway – and when Dana glanced in that direction, she saw Monica, still gloriously naked, wide-eyed and shocked by Jolie’s words.

On to Chapter Three!

A quick recap of the Story Thus Far: Rural paramedic Nettie Hastings finds herself in the middle of a flurry of unexplained overdose calls and, with the help of her best friend and former lover, Terry Wilder, has begun putting clues together linking the source to her own hometown. Some suspect Terry’s involvement, including police chief George Fronse, as Terry’s ex-wife is a convicted drug trafficker. A drug raid on an abandoned meat locker goes awry, and Nettie’s father is killed in an explosion. In the meantime, Nettie has entered into a clandestine affair with Terry’s preteen daughter.

For a more detailed breakdown of this story’s chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

by Rachael Yukey

Just as George Fronse had predicted, I was sought out the following day by the DEA, with a meeting arranged in one of the little training cubicles at the fire hall. A desk and chairs had been placed there, making it a sort of ad hoc office. The agent I spoke to was an attractive yet businesslike brunette in her early thirties or so named Bridgett Ramscone. She managed to make female business attire look sexy as hell, which I would have sworn was impossible. Even in my emotionally fragile state, I’d have given a lot to get a peek under that sensible black skirt.

She identified herself as the regional supervisor for the DEA, and I wondered if she was the contact George had referred to. She carried printouts of my patient care reports from the cases I’d seen, and asked me very good, detailed questions regarding the incidents, the conclusions I’d drawn, and the lines of thinking that led to those conclusions. I told her everything I knew, omitting only the info I’d obtained from Halee.

Finally, she tucked the papers back into the labeled manila envelopes from which they had come, then placed another one on the desk.

“I have to tell you, I’m impressed,” she said. “I’ve got full-time agents working for me that probably wouldn’t have been able to make the same deductions you did. All the information I’ve gathered on you tells me you’re one hell of a paramedic, but honestly, I think you’re wasting your talents. If you ever feel like exploring the wonderful world of investigations, give me a call.”

Then she folded her hands on the table and leaned forward. “The only problem here,” she said, “is that you’re not telling me everything. The envelope in front of you contains a radio transcript of all transmissions that took place on the Franklin County channels starting at 0930 yesterday and running till the last unit reported back in service from the incident, which was late in the afternoon. Let’s see if you’re as good as I think you are. What little bit of information in there is of interest to me right this minute?”

Instantly I knew what had caught her attention. Goddamn it. I thought about playing dumb, and dismissed the idea almost at once. This tough, smart chick would see right through it.

“I suppose the part where Terry told George to hold tight at the CP until we got there,” I said, doing my best to meet her eyes, while keeping my face from giving anything away.

She smiled tightly. “Well done, Antoinette. I find it very interesting that this happened shortly after you and Terrance Wilder went to pick up his daughter from school, especially considering that the school nurse thinks she was faking her illness.”

I shrugged mentally. “I guess you already know the rest, don’t you?”

She sat back. “I’m not half-bad at deduction myself. Let’s see how I do. The girl was privy to some information, maybe had some inkling that something unusual was going on. You and Mr. Wilder told her to let you know if she heard anything else, and only you. Maybe because of a lack of faith in a certain chief of police?”

I simply stared back at her, not sure how much I should say. I was pretty much trapped, but I didn’t want to betray any confidences, either.

“I don’t blame you,” she said. “George Fronse is probably a regular Andy Griffith as a small-town cop, but we mostly keep him at arm’s length on the drug enforcement task force because he has all the subtlety and grace of a bovine belly dancer. The couple of times we’ve included him in sting operations, he’s blown it. If I could have found a way to let all the other local police forces in the county know that we had reason to suspect some large international operators in the area without him finding out, I would have. I was afraid he’d overplay his hand and make anyone who was paying attention suspicious, which of course, he did. I just about died when I heard he’d gone to the scene for that girl in Roers.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little.

“See?” she said. “You thought that was off, and probably some other stuff, too. So you were reluctant to take him into your confidence. Which is fine, it’s not like he’d have done anything useful with anything you told him.”

In spite of myself, I was getting a little annoyed with Agent Ramscone. “He’s a small-town police chief, not James Bond,” I pointed out. “He does his best.”

She dismissed this with a shrug. “The point is, the girl somehow found out where they were going, she told you, and you informed George. That was his ‘anonymous tip’. Does he even know where it came from?”

I surrendered with a sigh. She knew, and denial on my part would just send her to Terry’s door. Halee was already in deeper than she should be; the last thing she needed was this sexy battleaxe crawling up her ass.

“Halee overheard us talking a couple of nights ago,” I said. “So we asked her if she’d heard anything weird at school. She said she’d heard high school kids talking about going to a place called the locker, but didn’t know any more than that. We asked her to tell us if she heard anything else. She came home sick to tell us about the kids that were out, and then George told us a bunch of teens had been seen walking north of town and asked us to stage. I was thinking about what was out there other than cow pastures, then I realized what the locker had to be.”

Bridgett pursed her lips. “Girl, you can come and work for me any time,” she said.

“Based on that? If I’d figured it out twelve hours earlier, yesterday would have been a lot different.”

“Connecting an unknown place called the locker to a meat processing facility that’s been closed for thirty years is a hell of a leap,” she countered. “I wouldn’t have seen it. Does Fronse know where your info came from?”

“He does now. He came by Terry’s place last night, and we kind of hashed things out. What are the odds I can talk you into not bothering Halee with this?”

“What would be the point? I very much doubt she knows anything you haven’t already told me. I doubt I’ll even interview Mr. Wilder, unless something new comes to light.” Suddenly she stood, and rounded the desk. She swiveled my chair to the side, then leaned in and placed both hands on my shoulders.

“So tell me,” Bridgett said, in a voice just barely above a whisper, “how was your movie night with that young girl?”

Every muscle in my body froze. I even stopped breathing for a moment. Slowly I tilted my head up to meet her gaze, but didn’t speak.

“Or how about Friday night, when she came over on her own?” she went on, her voice husky and intense.

“It was fun,” I finally got out, keeping my voice steady with an effort. “Halee’s a pretty cool kid.”

“Oh, I’ll just bet,” she said, and now there was something feral in her eyes. Taking my hands in hers, she pulled me to my feet. It wasn’t the most dominant of moves; I’m taller than her by a good seven inches. But somehow, this chick wasn’t even a little bit diminished by being towered over. We stood there for a moment, her gazing up at me with the corners of her mouth turned upwards, my hands still in hers.

“Don’t worry,” she told me. “Not just anybody would see what I see. Almost nobody, as a matter of fact. Only people who share what we share would catch on.”

I was starting to understand the significance of what she was saying, and a wonderful sort of excitement enveloped me. Not a sexual excitement, exactly, although maybe there was a little of that there, too. Agent Ramscone’s expression made it clear that she understood at least a little of what was in my mind.

Suddenly she let go of my hands and stepped back. “Thank you for your time, Ms. Hastings. I’ll be in touch if anything further needs to be discussed.”

I nodded once and turned to go. Then she seized my wrist from behind, capturing it in surprisingly strong fingers. She was at my side, her mouth just below my left ear.

“You’re not evil,” she whispered, “and you are not alone.”

She let my arm go and stepped back. My mind reeling, I got myself the hell out of there.

***

Hours later, I was at the dinner table at Terry’s house. Halee had prepared pork chops, mashed potatoes, and asparagus with her customary skill. Before the kids came home from school, I’d told Terry about my interview with Bridgett Ramscone, and how she’d deduced that Halee was our source. Terry took the news in stride, acknowledging that it probably didn’t really make a difference.

The younger kids were animatedly recounting the events of the school day. The big scandal, as related by Naomi, was two middle-school girls being caught kissing in the bathroom. And to make matters more interesting, Naomi went on to mention that little Chelsey Milne, who was in her fifth grade class, had said that it kind of sounded like fun.

Upon hearing this, I choked a little on a mouthful of potato. Halee caught my eye and grinned.

“Some of the other kids got kind of mean,” said Naomi, “calling her a lesbian and stuff. Some of us told them to stop and leave her alone, but they didn’t until one of the teachers made them.”

Terry leaned forward with interest. “Clarify, if you would please, oh dearest of daughters,” He said. “What precisely did they say that was, to borrow your choice of words, mean?”

“Well… they called her a lesbian, Dad! And they said…”

“And by that you mean to imply that being referred to as a lesbian is an insult?” Terry broke in, a grin toying with his lips.

Naomi was smart enough to recognize the trap that had been laid for her. “Well, uh, I guess it is if you’re not one, right?”

“Why would it be?” I asked her. “Unless you think there’s something wrong with being a lesbian, it would just be a mistake, right?”

“Well… I guess so… but I think lots of kids in my class think being a lesbian is pretty weird.”

“Do you think that to be the case?” Terry wanted to know.

“I don’t know. I never thought much about it. I don’t know any lesbians, y’know?”

“Yes, you do,” said Halee suddenly. Every head at the table swiveled in her direction.

“Really?” Dawn piped up, speaking for the first time. I wondered idly if Dawn had anything more than the vaguest idea what a lesbian even was. “Who?”

Halee looked directly at her father. “I’m a lesbian,” she said with an air of finality.

Terry put down his fork and blinked in surprise. “I’ll be damned,” he said.

The younger girls were staring at their elder sister with wide eyes. “What’s a lesbian, anyway?” Maya wanted to know.

Terry looked across the table at me. “You wanna take this, Nettie?” he said. “You can probably explain it in better terms than I can. If you’re willing, that is.”

“A lesbian is a woman who’s sexually attracted to other women instead of men,” I told the little girl. “That means they prefer to date other women, or even marry them, the same way you think of the boys and girls in high school dating.”

“Why does Daddy think you could say that better than he could?” Dawn wanted to know.

“Because he knows I’m bisexual,” I explained. “That means I’m sexually interested in both women and men.”

Naomi stared at me with wide-eyed interest. “You like girls and boys both?”

I smiled. “You could put it that way, yes.”

“But Halee just likes girls,” said Dawn, in tones that suggested she was still trying to wrap her head around the concept.

Terry studied his eldest daughter searchingly. She met his gaze for a moment, then looked down at her plate. “Look at me, Halee,” he said. She hesitated only a moment, then did as he asked.

“Don’t ever be afraid to look me in the eye,” he said. “Not over something like this. If this is who you are, then you have nothing to be ashamed of. I don’t give a damn if you have sexual feelings for men, women, or Paraguayan sea turtles.” The whole table erupted in a chorus of little girl giggles.

“You’re growing into one hell of a young woman,” he went on, “and I’m proud of you. I’m especially proud that you had the guts to say what you just said.”

Quite deliberately, as if to demonstrate that Halee’s sexuality was no longer a matter of any importance to him, he picked up his fork and knife, cut off a bite-sized chunk of pork, and popped it into his mouth.

“Daddy,” Maya piped up, all wide-eyed six-year-old innocence, “what’s a sexual feeling?”

Halee grinned, and the two middle girls giggled. I covered my mouth to hide a smile. Terry swallowed his food, a rueful expression on his face.

“We’ll have a talk about that,” he said, “very soon. But not right this minute, okay?”

***

The next few days passed in a haze. I took three weeks paid time off, which was granted no questions asked due to my father’s death, but that turned out to be a mistake. I’d ended up with the job of executor of Dad’s estate, along with arranging his funeral, but aside from that I mostly ended up sitting in my apartment, with only my thoughts and a large cache of alcohol for company. I did make a token attempt to spend a little more time with my mom, but that went about as well as it ever had.

Thankfully, Dad had his affairs in meticulous order. He’d arranged things so I would be able to take possession of both his business and his house without being forced to sell them for the taxes, and there was also money. Quite a bit of money. I marveled at how the man who never seemed to have much time for me while he was alive had taken so much trouble to see I was taken care of after he was gone.

Mostly, however, I sat in my apartment, listened to records, and drank. I’d have a lot of decisions to make over the next few weeks. Move into his house, or sell it? Getting out of the apartment seemed a given, but I could easily sell the sprawling ranch-style home he’d bought with his deceased second wife and buy something a bit more practical for a single person.

In the meantime, I’d elevated the young woman who had served as his office manager to interim manager of the company. I had no intention of trying to run the business myself, but wasn’t yet certain if I wanted to find a buyer or just let someone else manage it and collect the checks.

I had no time during that week to be alone with Halee, and I didn’t seek out intimacy with anyone else, either. I didn’t even masturbate. Once the reality of Dad’s death had sunk in, and all the other weird shit that had been going on in Bronning started messing with my head, I went a little numb. I didn’t sleep well, either. The nightmares were back, and they weren’t fucking around.

There was some good news during the course of the week; everyone who had made it to the hospital alive on Monday had stayed that way. All of the critical patients had pulled through, and most of the firefighters and police officers had already been sent home by Friday. Sam Jensen, whom I’d been forced to intubate during transport, was still in the hospital, but on Wednesday she was extubated and continued to breathe under her own power. In fact, ALL of the teens were still in the hospital, even the ones who hadn’t been injured in the blast. Nobody knew why.

The DEA folks were still around. They were occupying a rental on the edge of town, no doubt due to the utter lack of a proper hotel, and working out of temporary offices at the fire hall. Bridgett Ramscone was still directing whatever it was they were up to, and she greeted me with a wink and a wave the two times I saw her around town. Both times, my guts did a little flip.

The operation itself was under a complete blackout. Nobody other than the federal agents were allowed anywhere near the valley where the incident had occurred, and any findings were kept under wraps. But there’d been two more cases similar to the ones I’d seen with Terry, both on Wednesday. The victims were teens who lived in the area, although neither attended the Bronning K-12. Another teen in Gerard had been found dead in his bedroom by his parents the same day, with no explanation. On Thursday, the rotund young man Terry had picked up on 225 died in his front yard, and was discovered there by a UPS driver around noon the following day.

George Fronse, when anyone saw him at all, was out of sorts and ill-tempered, and the  scuttlebutt was that the DEA was keeping him as much in the dark as the rest of us. Police presence was heavier than usual, with more of the county sheriff’s department’s resources concentrated in the Bronning area than I’d ever seen before. A largish number of state troopers were cruising the highways as well.

My dad’s funeral visitation was late Friday afternoon, and as his closest surviving relative I found myself hovering over his open casket for two agonizing hours, alternately shaking hands and returning hugs. Mom showed up, and surprised the hell out of me by openly weeping over his body.

Me, I’d done all the mourning that was in me for the moment, and feeling completely detached. My purse was slung over the back of a chair I’d pulled up to the front so I could sit once in awhile, and it contained, amongst other things, a standard field penlight – the kind EMS personnel use to check pupillary response. I had to resist the strange urge to pull it out and shine it up Dad’s nose for a glimpse of the lanyard that gets run up through there to hold the dearly departed’s jaw closed. That’s the state of mind I was in.

Terry and his two older girls appeared about two-thirds of the way through. By this time foot traffic had slowed to a trickle, most of the remaining guests were at the back of the room, talking and taking in refreshments, and I was sitting by myself next to my father’s body. I stood as they approached. Terry was wearing a suit. Halee and Naomi were absolutely ravishing in simple, elegant, matching black evening wear.

I stood up, letting Terry pull me into a hug. I hugged him back, tears stinging my eyelids as I reflected that Terry was one of the only people here this evening who actually came for me and not for form’s sake. He held me at arms length.

“Doing okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, willing myself not to sniffle. I gave him a small smile that I’m sure totally failed to convince, and he turned his attention to the casket, inclining his head slightly. Halee wrapped her arms around me, and we held each other for as long as propriety would permit. Then she joined her father while Naomi gave me a hug.

“I was in the Twin Cities yesterday, and I stopped by the Hennepin Hospital to see Wes Hamilton,” Terry said.

“Is it true he’s going to lose his leg?” I inquired.

“They’ve already amputated, poor bastard. He asked me to give you a message. He saw your dad go down, and he said I’m the first person who wasn’t taking an official report he’s been able to tell.”

He gestured towards the casket. “Wes tells me this man threw himself over the top of Sam Jensen when the explosion went off. They were then hit by shrapnel when one of the pressure tanks along the wall blew a few seconds later. She only took that slash across her gut, because he blocked the rest of it.”

I gazed down into the casket at my father’s frozen visage. “I hadn’t heard that till now,” I said. It explained a lot, though. My dad had been killed by scraps of metal piercing his body from behind, one of which had found its way to his aorta and torn it wide. He’d have bled out in the space of a minute or two.

“Probably only Wes saw it,” said Terry, “and you know the feds aren’t sharing anything he reported with the lowly likes of us.”

“He was a hero,” Halee said simply, looking down at the body with solemn respect.

“Sure was,”  said Naomi, somewhat less solemnly but no less respectful.

Terry reached into the casket, and covered my dad’s hand with his. “Godspeed, fireman. I didn’t know you well, but whenever I cross paths with the young woman whose life you saved, I’ll remember you.”

Withdrawing his hand, he turned towards me. “You know where I am if you need anything,” he said, embracing me once more.

Halee hugged me again after he let go. “That goes for me, too,” she said.

“Do you want to come over and watch a movie again tonight?” I asked her suddenly. “If it’s all right with you, Terry. I want to be at home, but I could use some company.”

Terry shrugged. “I have no problem with it.”

“Do you want me to stay for the night, or just for the movie?” Halee wanted to know.

“I’d love it if you stayed, but you don’t have to. I’ll be done here in half an hour; you can come anytime after that.”

“Then I’ll see you soon,” she said with a sly little grin. She turned toward the casket, reached in, hesitated, and then gingerly let her hand rest on top of my dad’s in imitation of her father’s gesture a moment ago. It was probably, I thought, the first time she’d ever touched a corpse.

“Thank you for Sam,” she said, then withdrew her hand and followed her father back up the aisle. Naomi looked in as she passed the casket one last time, started to extend her hand, and then tucked it at her side as if hoping nobody would notice. I had to suppress a grin as she trailed along behind her father and older sister.

I moved to stand over my father’s body, bowing my head to stare down at him.

“I’m proud of you, Daddy,” I whispered, and let the tears fall.

***

Halee appeared at my door less than half an hour after I returned to my apartment, an overnight bag in her hand. I would ordinarily have changed into something more comfortable the moment I walked through the door, but thanks to the appreciative glances I’d received from the men (and a few of the women) who had attended my father’s visitation, I knew exactly how fetching I looked in my slim blue evening dress. Even better, Halee was still wearing the flattering ensemble she’d had on earlier.

“Mmmm,” I said, sliding my hand down her side. “Wearing that for me?”

“You haven’t changed yet, either,” she pointed out with a grin. “So… what movie did you have in mind?”

“One starring you in the nude,” I told her, reaching around and cupping her ass.

“That sounds like a great show,” Halee purred. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed me.

As I mentioned earlier, I’d completely abstained from sexual activity since Halee fingered me to a climax Monday night in Terry’s guest bed. The moment her tongue found its way into my mouth, it was over. I kissed her back with abandon, eagerly tugging the lower part of her dress upwards so I could slip my fingers beneath. When my hands reached her bottom and found it bare, I broke off the kiss.

“For me?” I breathed, losing myself in those hazel eyes.

We kissed again, her back pressed against the door and the fingers of both my hands between her cheeks. She didn’t engage my mouth for very long, concentrating instead on my neck, always my erogenous weak point.

“If you keep doing that,” I said, my voice almost a moan, “we’re going to end up doing it right here in the entryway.”

I’m not sure who led who to the bedroom, but the next thing I knew we were on my bed, hands and mouths all over each other. Halee was on top of me, and I used that handy vantage point to unzip her dress. She raised her body until she was kneeling over me, and pulled the garment over her head, flinging it to one side.

Now completely naked, she collapsed atop me, slipping one of her legs between mine and grinding against my pussy. I pushed back, the first wave of pleasure hitting me as I began to hump Halee’s thigh. She let me do that for a minute before pulling away, scrambling upright to kneel between my legs.

“Get rid of this fucking dress,” she said hoarsely.

I got up on my knees, and we worked together to strip me down to my underwear. Halee reached around my back and undid my bra, tossing it to the floor, along with the dress. Then she scooched forward and buried her face between my tits, kissing into the valley they formed, shoving both hands down the back of my panties as her mouth restlessly roamed over my breasts. Shifting one hand around to the front, she thrust two fingers between my folds. I threw my head back and gasped, a shudder racing through me.

“Somebody’s a little wet,” she teased. As she sawed her fingers in and out, slowly and sensuously, she kissed my neck, moving up to nibble on my earlobe. “I want to taste you, the way you tasted me,” she breathed.

I pulled my head back and looked into her eyes. “You want to eat my pussy, you mean?”

Halee grinned. “Yeah! I want to eat your pussy. I’ve been thinking about it ever since you did it to me.”

I stretched out on the bed, my legs wide open. “It’s all yours, honey,” I said.

Halee took her time. She started with my feet, caressing and loving them with gentle fingers. When she slipped those fingers between my toes, one by one, I almost came on the spot. Who knew a foot massage could be so fucking erotic? Inexperienced little Halee was doing things to me that no one else had before. She moved upwards, this time using both fingers and mouth, loving each of my lower legs in turn. She held a leg straight up in the air, running her tongue delicately across the back of my knee, then proceeded to do the same to the other leg.

When she got to my thighs, Halee turned up the intensity, kissing and biting her way up both of them. Finally she lay down on her belly, face just inches from my aching twat. I could feel wetness running down the crack of my ass. She moved forward slowly, opening me wide with her thumbs. Then she extended her tongue, delicately licking up the length of one outer lip, then the other. Each time, I involuntarily thrust my pelvis to meet her.

Her tongue slipped back down through the liquid center, barely brushing my clit. I felt a wave of pleasure that wrenched a cry from my quivering lips. She slipped her tongue inside me, working it in and out. I was out of my mind with sexual rapture, practically whimpering. Finally her tongue traveled upward, going to work on the sensitive nub of my clit with fast, yet delicate little licks.

Then there were fingers in me; two of them, I think. Halee worked them in and out, now licking my clit more directly and with more intensity. She would pleasure me hard and fast, driving me towards the edge, then back off, sucking my clit delicately and slowing her pumping arm down to a crawl. Then the intensity again. In this way she extended my plateau much longer than it otherwise would have lasted. Finally she let it happen, pushing me to a moaning, body-shaking climax so intense I thought I was going to pass out.

Finding my strength, I pulled her to me, kissing her passionately, tasting and smelling myself on her face. “Did you like doing that?” I breathed.

“I loved it,” she got out, in a voice that plainly said that she was in need of a little something herself.

I started kissing my way down her body, paying attention to her neck, her ears and her shoulders. I spent a lot of time on her tits. They weren’t big, but seemed to be amazingly sensitive. Every time my tongue flicked across a nipple, she moaned. When I sucked one into my mouth, her body gave a violent jerk.

“I can’t wait any more,” she panted. “Please, Nettie… please m-make me come.”

I planted my mouth between her labia. No subtlety; I sensed the immediacy of her need. She was wailing from the moment I began. Deciding the time had come for a bold move, I slipped a hand up her leg and to her hole, sliding an experimental finger inside. Just the tip, mind you. I encountered resistance and stopped there.

I looked up at her. “Is this okay, Halee?” She didn’t speak, only nodded. I went back to work, licking furiously while carefully sliding the tip of my finger in and out. With the other hand, I reached up to tweak each of her nipples in turn.

That was all it took; suddenly she was arching her back, making those little “uh… uh… uh…” noises that signified her orgasm, and I could feel her pussy clamp down rhythmically on my finger. Then she collapsed onto the bed.

We held each other for awhile, relaxing in silent bliss.

“Where did you learn to edge like that?” I said at last.

“Edge?”

“Where you took me almost all the way, then pulled back. It’s called edging.”

“Oh, I get it,” she said. “I do that to myself all the time. Otherwise, it’s over way too fast.”

I kissed her, then pulled away, reaching for my phone to check the time.

“You know, it’s just barely after eight,” I told her. “I’m not ready for bed yet; are you?”

On to Chapter Thirteen!