Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

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

It takes a lot to knock me on my ass. I can take almost anything in stride and just keep right on moving, which is one of the reasons I’m good at my job. At work they call me the Iron Lady for exactly that reason, although I like to think of myself as the little dog in the fire. You know… the meme where the doggie is sitting in the middle of a fire, he’s smiling, and the caption reads ‘this is fine’? That’s me.

But it’s still possible to pull the rug out from under me, I guess. When DEA agent Bridgett Ramscone asked about my relationship with Halee, my gut twisted in knots.

Somehow, I forced my face to remain expressionless. “What do you want to know?”

“Let’s start simple. Is she a good kisser?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Bridgett shook her head. “Oh, Nettie, we’re not going to do this, are we? I thought I made myself plain at our first meeting. We’re kindred spirits, you and I. Probably the first one you’ve ever encountered. That’s one of the reasons you should come work for me in the Twin Cities. I could introduce you to an entire community of women who love girls… and girls who love us back.”

My pulse quickened. I had to resist the urge to pinch myself. Was this actually happening?

“You know how to pick ‘em, too,” she went on. “That young lady is smokin’. Not only is she pretty, but you can just feel the sexual energy oozing out of her. How long has this been going on between you two?”

I stood, a little too abruptly, and turned away from her. “I should be getting back to my place,” I said.

The next thing I knew she was behind me – hand on my waist, tits pressed against my back, hot breath on my neck.

“How long?” she breathed. Her hands slipped around to the front, traveled up my belly, and cupped my breasts.

All at once I could feel my panties dampening, and my breathing becoming ragged. There was no point in even trying to conceal my sudden and intense arousal.

“It’s… kind of a new thing,” I got out in a breathy, uneven voice.

“Is it your first time with a kid?” One of her hands was tracing its way down my belly, pulling up my shirt, caressing the warm flesh beneath.

I nodded, my breath coming in hot gasps as she undid the button of the slacks I’d changed into after the funeral. Then the zipper came down, fingers dipping even further to fondle me through the pants. I moaned and went up on tiptoe.

“Girls are so beautiful,” she was saying in sensuous tones. “So soft and delicate. And they taste different from women, have you noticed? Do you like the way little Halee tastes?”

“She’s d-delicious,” I whispered. Bridgett’s fingers slipped inside my slacks, insinuated themselves beneath the waistband of my panties, and moments later were rubbing up and down inside my slit. “Oh… oh, God…”

“What are her tits like?”

“Tiny!” I wailed. “But perfect. It turns her on so much when I… when I lick… oh my God…”

“Where I come from,” she whispered, as the waves of pleasure intensified, “a woman who knows where to look can find all kinds of girls who want what she has to offer. Black girls, white girls, Mexican girls, girls in their teens or girls in grade school. Girls with smooth, wet, needy pussies. Girls who want us to do to them what I’m doing to you right now. To touch them, to kiss them, to make them come…”

My orgasm hit right then. I cried out repeatedly, going back up on my toes, then down again. My legs almost buckled, but I managed with an effort of will to stay upright. Bridgett kept her fingers in my pants, pressed firmly against my clit, until I turned to face her. Her color was high, her breath coming in harsh gasps. I drew her to me with force, using my superior height as a blunt instrument. Bending her backwards, I mashed my lips to hers.

She met me with equal intensity, our tongues doing furious battle. I walked her backwards, her feet almost dragging as I backed her to the recliner she’d been sitting on, tumbling her into it. Then I was on my knees, undoing her jeans, yanking them from her body along with her panties. She was completely hairless down there; probably waxed. I shoved my hand between her legs, finding her dripping wet and receptive. I slipped two fingers inside of her, and her butt lifted off of the chair.

“Like the little ones, do you?” I growled as my fingers pumped in and out. I wasn’t sure what had gotten into me, but I was totally getting high on taunting this domineering little bitch. “Well, you just think about Halee’s sweet little pussy, the one I get to touch and you only get to dream about. She has just a little bit of hair the same color as the hair on her head, long enough to be soft but not long enough to get between your teeth. Speaking of which, you’re right – she is so goddamn tasty. She’s got these delicate little inner lips that you just can’t get enough of. You just picture that, and keep on wishing you were as lucky as I am.”

With that, I dove in, my extended tongue finding her clit, glorying in her uninhibited cries of pleasure. I ate her and finger-fucked her forcefully, almost brutally, until she came screaming, a gush of warm liquid dampening my face. I felt a grin forming as I lapped up as much as I could catch; I do so love a squirter. It flashed through my mind to be grateful that the recliner was upholstered in leather.

***

We had a beer after that, seated together on the love seat. I’m not really a beer person, but that’s what was in Dad’s fridge. She told me about her own awakening to her unusual sexual proclivities, the pain she’d gone through coming to terms with it, and the communities available in metro areas that had no counterpart in my neck of the woods.

“It sounds creepy at first,” she said, “and I was worried that some of the girls involved might be trafficked. But that’s not how it is. Everything is one hundred percent voluntary, and most of the girls live perfectly ordinary lives with their parents. But these are girls who have discovered themselves as sexual beings, and desire the company of grown women. Basically everyone gets what they want, and nobody has to do anything they don’t want to do.”

“It sounds fantastic,” I told her.

“It’s amazing,” she said. “and you would be a natural fit. You’re tall, you’re beautiful, and you have an amazing tongue.” She chuckled. “Please understand, this is completely independent of my job offer. I could get you doing investigations work closer to home if that’s your preference. I really do think you’d make a phenomenal investigator.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll give it some thought. Speaking of investigations, how the hell did you find out about Halee coming to my place, anyway?”

She grinned mirthlessly. “The first evening we were here, I had some agents speed-review the last five days worth of surveillance footage from every public building in the city of Bronning, including the hallway cam coverage from every apartment building in town that has it. Which yours does. And…”

She shifted a little, an apologetic expression on her face. “You already know that Terrance Wilder is a person of interest to us in this case,” she went on. “So, anytime he or any of his kids appeared in the footage, it was flagged for my attention. Even on that shitty hallway footage, the sexual tension between you two was sharp enough to cut your hands. Mind you, I don’t think most people would have seen it. I do, because I’ve been down the same road you’re on.”

“But when I met you on Tuesday, you specifically mentioned our movie night,” I said. “How did you know that’s what we told Terry?”

“Because Halee was also caught on camera leaving your apartment complex the next morning,” said Bridgett, “and one of your neighbors spoke to her on the way out. I questioned the neighbor, and she told me that she just asked the kid what brought her there for an overnight stay. Halee told the neighbor that you’re a friend of her dad’s, and you had a girl’s movie night together.”

There must have been something in my expression, because Bridgett laid a soothing hand on my arm. “Relax,” she said. “I don’t think your neighbor suspects anything at all, and I’m pretty good at picking up on stuff like that. She was just making conversation. And speaking of all this, I’m expected back for a meeting with my team.”

I saw her to the door, and she got her boots back on. She slipped her hands around my waist, stood up on tiptoe, and kissed me. I hesitated for a moment, then kissed her back firmly.

“I’m going to stay in town as long as I can get away with it,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re exclusive with Halee Wilder, but if you’re not, I wouldn’t say no to an introduction. I would love to spend an evening with her – or even better, with both of you.”

Not giving me the chance to reply, she unfurled her umbrella and stepped out into the rain.

***

I had dinner with Uncle Jason and his family at the Franklin Supper Club just outside of town; the closest thing you can get to fine dining without driving at least thirty miles. We then returned to Dad’s place. Jason cracked open a fifth of bourbon he’d purchased for the occasion, and we talked long into the night. Jason had recently become operations manager for a large regional medical flight service, and was still working as a songwriter on the side. The songwriting royalties were, as he put it, his fuck-you money.

“The day I get bored with EMS, I can just tell ’em to piss off,” he said cheerfully.

Lisa was serving her second term as mayor of Dickson, and campaigning for state office. Julie was an electrical engineer doing design work. Mallory was a classical pianist teaching at the University of Colorado and pursuing a dual doctorate in music and art. We spent most of the time catching up rather than reliving the past, and for that I was grateful. The last thing I needed right now was to dredge up the phase of my life that encompassed most of our shared history.

I don’t mean to imply there were no good memories… there were, and I suspected there was much more than my traumatized mind would allow me to remember. Looking at Julie and Mallory, arms around each other on the couch, I couldn’t help but picture them the exact same way, but in immature, twelve-year-old bodies. With no clothes on. Was it a true image, or the product of my twisted imagination?

I could hear Julie’s little-girl voice, emerging from the past. “You can come sit with us if you want, Nettie. There’s nothing to be afraid of.” I imagined my first shaky step in their direction.

Then the memory, if indeed that’s what it was, vanished below the churning surface of my subconscious.

***

Late afternoon the next day found me in Terry’s living room, sipping coffee on the couch. It was a nice day despite the spring chill, and he’d kicked the kids out of the house so we could talk. Halee and Naomi were keeping watch over the younger girls at the city park.

“Interesting,” Terry was saying. “I wonder which of Kathryn’s former associates are here in the area. A lot of them, once all the arrests happened and the smoke cleared, turned out to be people I knew. Not well, but folks I’d met at parties and other such. Some of them I’d probably recognize if I saw them, but Special Agent Perky Tits hasn’t come to me with any questions about it. Or about anything, for that matter.”

“I don’t think she really trusts you,” I admitted.

“I can’t say that I blame her,” he replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t take a genius to see how all this has to look from her perspective.”

“She thinks you’re lying about not knowing what your ex was up to. She says you’re too smart to not have seen it.”

Terry laced his hand behind his head. “She was pretty damn forthcoming with you, huh?”

Terry, honey, you have NO idea. “Very,” I said.

“Interesting, considering that she had to assume I’d hear about it from you afterward.”

“She’s grasping at straws,” I said. “That’s her words, not mine. The investigation isn’t getting anywhere.”

“That’s unfortunate,” he said, “because that means it’s going to happen again. Maybe not here, probably not, but somewhere.”

“She didn’t say it, but I think she’s worried about the same thing. I don’t think she really even believes you had anything to do with it. She’s just jumping down every rabbit hole she can think of before her bosses pull her out.”

A sour smile twisted his lips. “She thinks I’m lying about my knowledge of Katryn’s business activities, but doesn’t really think I’m involved in the meat locker situation?”

I squirmed a little. “She didn’t really suggest that you were actively involved with what your wife was doing,” I countered. “Just that you must have at least known that something was going on.”

Terry blew out his breath. “I think most of the agents that questioned me after Kathryn’s arrest believed the same thing, and I get it. Granted that I was insanely busy once my career started to take off, but I clearly had a tremendous blind spot where she was concerned. Looking back, there were a thousand red flags. I simply failed to see them for what they were. Maybe even subconsciously pushed them aside, because I didn’t want to think about it.”

I searched his face, looking for truth. Bridgett’s words were hammering through my head. But it was Terry who had stood by me for three years running, in spite of my fucked up shitty behavior. Terry who treated his daughters like precious jewels. Terry who was always there when people needed him. I liked Bridgett, but I knew where my loyalties lay. Besides, I thought I understood the wistful look on his face.

“You really loved her,” I said, “didn’t you?”

“Guess I did,” he said, grinning ruefully. “Guess I still do. She was something, Nettie. Stone cold monstrous bitch at the end of the day, but really something.”

He sat back. “As for Special Agent Stick-Up-The-Ass,” he went on, “I wonder if it’s dawned on her that if I’m as all-fired brilliant as she thinks I am, I wouldn’t be dumb enough to start a drug operation right in my own backyard, in an out-of-the-way place that I moved to for no reason she can understand. Or to bring in my wife’s former partners. That’s the literal definition of shitting where one eats, then flaunting said shit under the noses of the authorities.”

I snickered. “I said literally that,” I said, “and she agreed. She’s not a bad sort, Terry. I think she’s just really frustrated that she’s going to have to go home empty-handed.”

“Fair enough.”

Talk turned to other things, and after a while the girls returned. Dawn came in ahead of her sisters, cryptically informing us that Halee might need help at the door.

“We picked up a stray,” Halee told us as I stepped into the foyer, Terry close behind. She was assisting Chelsey Milne into the house. I remembered that they’d had a sleepover planned for the previous night, and wondered how that had transpired. I knew Halee had designs on the little cutie, but doubted she’d been able to accomplish much with Naomi present.

I moved to help her get Chelsey to the bench, as Naomi came in behind them with her friend’s wheelchair. Chelsey was wearing a simple blue t-shirt with wide sleeves, and a long skirt. It was elegant in a young girl sort of way, and I supposed it was also a practical ensemble for someone with braces on an arm and a leg.

Terry grinned. “Didn’t we just get rid of you a couple of hours ago?” he said to Chelsey, a note of teasing in his voice. Chelsey looked uncertain, as if not knowing whether to take him seriously or not. Something about that bothered me; most eleven-year-olds know better than to take such a remark personally. I wondered if she was accustomed to the adults in her life wanting her to go away.

Naomi solved it by playfully whacking her dad on the arm. “We brought her here to help with the famous Disappearing Parent Trick,” she informed him saucily.

This elicited more hilarity from the younger girls than it probably deserved, but it served its purpose. Chelsey giggled with them, looking at ease once more.

“She was at the park with her aunt Judy,” Halee explained, “and her mom showed up wanting Judy to help her run some errands. They were worried about having enough room in the car with Chelsey and her wheelchair, so I invited her to come back with us. Hope that’s not a problem.”

I turned my head towards Terry so that only he could see me roll my eyes. His expression matched my thoughts pretty well. I wondered what errands they’d be running that could possibly exceed the capacity of Judy Milne’s Suburban.

Terry made a show of spreading his hands. “My entire existence is already comprised of a giggling gaggle of girls,” he complained good-naturedly. “What’s another, more or less?”

“How are you feeling, Chelsey?” I asked her.

“Better,” she assured me. “The physical therapy isn’t much fun, though. But the doctor says next week my arm’ll be good enough I can start using crutches; then I won’t need that stupid wheelchair.”

We helped Chelsey down the hall to the living room. Then, just when people were getting settled, Terry’s pager sounded. I was vaguely aware that the on-call crew was already on a run with Rig One.

“Bronning Ambulance, respond with Bronning Fire to the junction of County Road Two and Merlin Creek Drive for an ATV rollover; victim is pinned under the machine and has an altered level of consciousness. Caller believes the victim has been trapped for some time. ALS intercept from Melville is being dispatched as well. You’ll have county channel FC3; your time is 16:30.”

Terry looked at me questioningly. “On-call is already out,” he said, “You up for it?”

“Let’s go,” I said.

Terry plucked his radio from the charger. “Bronning Ambulance Rig Two, Franklin. We’ll be responding with an ALS crew, so you can cancel the intercept from Melville.”

“Copy, Bronning, 16:31.”

As we headed for the foyer, Terry called out over his shoulder. “Sorry, Halee, but this leaves you in the unenviable position of Queen Monkey of the Wilder Zoo for a couple of hours. There’s chili in the crock pot for dinner.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” came the sardonic reply, “and I know about the chili, because I made it.”

***

Terry was behind the wheel, the rig chewing up the gravel and spitting it out behind us. We were about three miles south of County Two when the radio crackled.

“Bronning Fire to Bronning Ambulance Rig Two.”

I snatched up the mic. “Go for Rig Two.”

“We’re on scene at the rollover. It’s one of those big four-seat Ranger models, and the victim is pinned at the waist. We want to get it off of him, but that DEA lady and a couple of her goons are here too, and they won’t let us. She says it could kill him. Any instructions?”

I felt a cold chill, but a wave of relief as well. “Absolutely do not extricate the patient. She’s right. When did she arrive on scene?”

“They were right behind us.”

Terry was turning onto County Two.

“Is the patient alert?” I said into the mic.

“Awake but confused. He’s really cold, too.”

I considered the implications. Merlin Creek Drive is a minimum maintenance road that hardly sees any traffic until the handful of snowbirds who live there show up in late May. He could easily have been lying there all day without anyone noticing, and the temperatures hadn’t climbed above fifty until noon or so.

“Keep his upper half warm as you can,” I said, “and under no circumstances move that Ranger. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Merlin Creek Drive is narrow, rutted, and more dirt than gravel. Thankfully we didn’t have to drive on it. As we approached we could see a line of rescue vehicles, including George Fronse’s squad car and a County Sheriff’s Deputy cruiser. The black Suburban that Bridgett’s people had been using was there as well.

In the deep part of the ditch just past where County Two intersected with Merlin Creek, I could see a swarm of humanity milling around something I couldn’t make out. As we closed in, I realized they were working behind a large stand of marshes; whatever they were dealing with would have been completely concealed from cars driving by on County Two. Even in its brown, wilted early spring state, the aquatic foliage made for an impenetrable visual barricade.

“We’re going to want the monitor, the first-in bag, and the ALS bag,” I told Terry as he eased past the rolling iron, trying to get as close as possible. “I want you to get a four-lead, blood sugar, and vitals, in that order. We’ll have PD and fire get set up to load. I have to get a line and give him sodium bicarb before we get him out.”

I don’t know if Terry understood what I was up to, but he didn’t waste time asking questions. He tucked the rig into the spot that the other emergency vehicles had thoughtfully left for us. I timestamped our arrival, slammed the laptop closed, and picked up the mic, which was still resting in my lap.

“Bronning Ambulance Rig Two, Franklin, on scene,” I said. I was already opening the passenger side door.

I tossed the laptop onto the bench seat, and yanked the two bags out. Terry got the monitor. Hastening towards the ditch, I marched right past George Fronse, who was coming forward to greet me.

“Get some guys to pull the cot out and get the buckles loose,” I tossed off to him as I passed, “and have someone bring a backboard down here.”

“Oh, and tell someone to crank the heat in the back all the way up,” Terry added. He was right on my heels.

The Ranger was lying on its side, a man in perhaps his late thirties sticking out from just above the pelvis. I didn’t recognize him. It was in the very bottom of the ditch, in a morass of cold, mucky, wet goop. He wasn’t shivering, and that was a bad sign. Fire had placed a cervical collar around his neck, and he was receiving oxygen via a non-rebreather mask. His eyes were wild and confused. He was covered from the neck down with what looked like every blanket the rescue rig carried, and someone had wrapped one around the top of his head.

People parted for me as I approached. Standing directly over the victim on the opposite side from which I approached was Bridgett, with two of her subordinates immediately behind.

I dropped to my knees in the muck, momentarily regretting that I was wearing jeans I actually liked. Terry came round the other side, and as he settled to his knees I saw that he was staring at the patient, a strange expression on his face. His lips mouthed something I couldn’t make out. Then he gave his head a hard shake, and started yanking down the saddlebag zippers on the monitor.

As I broke the lockout tag on the first-in bag and extracted the IV kit, I addressed the firefighter nearest me, registering belatedly that it was Brian Severson.

“Have we got a name?”

“No one recognizes him,” said Brian, “and everything he says is just jumbled and confused. I don’t really have anything.”

I was wrapping a tourniquet around an arm, searching frantically for a decent vein. Cold and dehydrated; the worst of all worlds. I yanked a hot pack from the bag and slapped it down on the forearm.

I shoved the rest of them at Brian. “Pack his armpits with these.”

I pulled back the forearm hot pack, and was rewarded with a nice fat vein. I became aware of George Fronse standing directly over me, looking furious. I ignored him as I prepped my chosen site, and started the line.

“I’m just gonna say it,” George said suddenly. “Why are we treating him in the cold mud instead of the warm ambulance?”

I didn’t waste time looking up. I was drawing up a very large vial of medication into a big syringe. “Because,” I said, “He’s had no circulation to his lower extremities for Christ knows how long. Hours, from the look. All the blood trapped down there below his waist is going to be totally acidotic. If I don’t give him something to buffer it before we let all that crap loose, it could kill him.”

I started pushing the bicarbonate, and glanced at the cardiac rhythm on the monitor. No arrhythmias yet, but I knew that could change in a hurry once full circulation returned.

“The sugar was 89,” Terry informed me. He still had the oddest expression on his face. He finished wrapping the blood pressure cuff around an arm, and pressed a button on the monitor. I pushed the last of the med, detached my syringe, and got to my feet..

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen,” I said. “let’s roll this beast off of him. The moment he’s loose I want him on the backboard, and then we’ll carry him up to the cot. Don’t waste time with straps; just be careful not to drop him. We’ll buckle him up once we have heat blowing on him.”

People surrounded the large ATV, Bridgett and her two men included. “All right, people!” Bridgett called out, effortlessly taking charge. “On my count. One… two… three.”

With that many people putting their backs into flipping the machine, the lift appeared effortless. It came down on all four wheels ponderously, splattering muddy water. The man on the ground let out a loud groan. He was on the backboard in seconds, being hauled up to the cot. Terry was carrying the monitor, cables trailing between him and the man on the backboard. I didn’t wait to observe the loading process; I went in through the side door, plopping onto the bench seat as the back doors were opened from outside. After several minutes with the heat at full blast, the back of the rig was like an oven. I instantly broke out in a sweat. Grabbing supplies from an overhead cabinet, I spiked a bag of fluids.

As the cot was shoved in past my legs, Brian Severson stuck his head in through the side door. “Need a driver?”

“Yes, please.”

Terry got in, slammed the monitor into its mount, and wordlessly began cutting clothes off. His face was a mask chiseled from stone. I hung my fluid bag, and as I switched the hose running to the face mask from portable oxygen to the truck feed, I was dimly aware of the driver’s door opening and closing.

“Ready to roll, Nettie?” Brian called from up front.

“Let’s move,” I told him.

As the rig eased into motion, I rubbed the patient’s sternum, hard. “Hey, can you hear me?” He blinked at me and groaned.

Terry was doing a trauma assessment as he removed clothing, his hands running up and down limbs. I grabbed one of the crappy house stethoscopes that were hanging from a nearby hook, cursing the fact that my own was in my work bag at home. Before placing the bell on the man’s chest, I caught Terry’s eye.

“Someone you know?”

“Someone I met a few times back in LA, but be damned if I remember his name. He was arrested in the same sting that took Kathryn down. She used to introduce him as her broker, with the air of someone enjoying an inside joke. One of about a million clues that I should have taken seriously.”

I covered the chest back up with blankets and got a thermal cap on the guy’s head while I debated the merits of intubating him. Terry was still talking as he cut off the pants.

“Note the location,” he said. “County Two and Merlin Creek Drive bracket the valley containing the auction grounds and the meat locker on the south and east sides. Nobody is getting into the valley itself right now, what with the presence of the Black Suit Brigade commanded by Special Agent Delectable Tushie, so what do you suppose he was up to?”

Finishing with his cut, he pulled the denim aside. “Jesus, Nettie, look at the discoloration on his legs.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek as I examined the dusky, mottled flesh. Terry pulled a shoe and sock off, and that looked even worse.

“Worst compartment syndrome I’ve ever seen,” I observed. I lowered my voice to a whisper. “He’ll most likely be a double amputee by this time next week… if he survives.”

Sliding back up the bench seat towards the patient’s head, I shined my penlight in both pupils, and leaned in close.

“Hey,” I said again, enunciating carefully, “can you hear me?”

“Who’re you?” These were the first words I’d heard him speak.

“I’m Nettie, and I’m a paramedic. We’re taking you to the hospital. Can you remember what happened?”

“Tell Kathy what happened.”

Terry, who was pressing his hands into the patient’s hips to assess pelvic stability, froze in place.

“Who’s Kathy?” I asked.

“She’s Kathy. And she needs to know. Someone has to tell her.”

“Tell her what?”

“That it happened.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “I can’t tell her if you don’t tell me.”

“Just tell her.”

Suddenly Terry was leaning in from his place on the jump seat.

“Is your name Darren Sanders?” he inquired.

“Darren! That’s my name.”

“And by Kathy, are you by any chance referring to Kathryn Wilder?”

The man squeezed his eyes closed. “Just tell Kathy,” he groaned through clenched teeth. He spoke no more for the remainder of the drive to the hospital.

On to Chapter 15

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!

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 has begun putting clues together linking the source to her own hometown. She and her former lover, author Terry Wilder, suspect the involvement of police chief George Fronse, but have no proof to back it up. Meanwhile, she has finally consummated a burning desire for Terry’s preteen daughter.

After she and Terry work out the location of what they believe to be the drug dealers’ headquarters, they contact the police chief and a raid is hurriedly set up. But things go wrong right away — has a trap been set? In the fallout, Nettie’s father is killed.

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

by Rachael Yukey

The glare of the overheads in the back of the ambulance was blinding after the overcast skies outside. I squinted as my ass hit the bench seat, and Samantha Jensen’s supine form came into focus. Her eyes were open, and she cast her gaze around wildly. “Samantha,” I said to her. She looked in my direction, eyes heavy and unseeing. Then she dropped her head to the pillow, closed her eyes, and moaned. There was soot around the edges of her mouth. Jessie was trying to hold pressure on the big abdominal dressing, which by now was completely red.

“Let go of it,” I told her. “You’re not gonna stop the bleeding. Change your gloves and get a neb mask on her with some albuterol; it’ll buy us a few minutes while I get ready for a tube. Then get me some vitals.”

The rig pulled out, jouncing badly on the rough terrain. Jessie let go of the dressing. Pulling it back, I ignored Sam’s yelp, examining the ugly laceration across her lower left quadrant. Blood pooled around protruding intestines. Setting the dressing back in place, I stripped off my blood-smeared gloves and tossed them to the floor. I had new ones on in seconds, and began hastily laying out IV supplies.

Jessie had the nebulizer in place and running, and was getting vitals like I’d asked. But when she started pulling the ECG cables from the monitor saddlebag, I had to resist the urge to smack her fingers.

“To hell with the four-lead,” I snapped. “Get a fresh dressing to put on the wound, but get it wet before you apply it. Just cut open a bag of saline and douse the damn thing. I need to get this IV started.” I thought it better not to tell Jessie that if I didn’t get a line and damn fast, this was all going to be for nothing. The niceties had to go out the window.

Jessie pulled a new dressing out of an overhead cabinet. I found a good spot for the IV almost right away, but held off for the sixty extra seconds it took Stacy to pull us out of the woods and onto the comparatively smooth gravel road, using the time to squirt medication into a bag of saline.

“Sam,” I said as I filled syringes, “can you hear me?” She shook her head violently from side to side, eyes squeezed shut. “We’re taking care of you, sweetheart,” I told her. “I know it hurts. Try to relax as much as you can.”

I got the IV on the first try, and hung the bag with the clotting agent. In my peripheral vision I could see Jessie cutting away the girl’s garments, rapidly inspecting for additional injuries. I turned my attention to the head, considering the layer of soot around the lips. Getting out my penlight, I moved the neb mask to one side and peered into her mouth, feeling my jaw tighten at the first signs of inflammation in her airway. Smoke inhalation for sure. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

I knew I was going to have to intubate her before her pipes closed altogether, but I stole a second to peel back an eyelid and shine my light on a pupil. Sam started, blinked, and looked up. With obvious effort, she focused in on me.

“I think the bleeding is slowing down a little,” Jessie said. I glanced over, and noticed that while the bottom of the new dressing was saturated in red ooze, the upper portion looked clean.

“Beautiful,” I said, turning my eyes back to Sam, who was still staring at me. Unzipping the ALS bag, I began extracting the items I would need for the tube. The whole time I was uncomfortably aware of Sam Jensen’s gaze.

Finally she spoke. “You’re… Nettie Hastings?” Even muffled by the mask, it sounded like the voice of a throat cancer patient with a two pack a day habit, and was followed by a dry, hacking cough. I could just barely make out what she was saying.

“Yeah,” I said. I got into the narc safe and pulled out the little box of magic contained therein. I briefly debated going for a second IV; I dislike sedating and paralyzing someone for intubation without a backup line. I dismissed the notion; time was not on our side.

“Mom says you t-took me to the hospital when I got sick,” the raspy voice informed me.

“That was me,” I said, putting as much cheer in my voice as possible. I busied myself drawing up the meds for the procedure. By this time Jessie had divested the girl of her garments and placed blankets over her private areas.

“What were you doing at the meat locker, Sam?” I inquired.

“Was I at the locker?” I wasn’t surprised that she didn’t remember. Sam and the other kids had clearly been under the influence of a sedative of some kind, and many of the common varieties burn away the memory of whatever was happening right before and right after the dose.

“Tell me about the locker, Sam.”

“I’m… not s’posed to… it’s a secret.”

“I can keep a secret.” I laid my labeled syringes down for a second, deciding to go for that second IV after all. So long as she was able to talk, I had time, and maybe there was a chance to find out what was going on.

“We p-party there.” The voice was low, the eyes distant. “We… we… good times. The best shit’s there. All of it. We get the good shit.”

“Who do you get it from? I might want some.” I slid the second IV catheter in, with no noticeable reaction from Sam. I’d probably gotten as much information out of her as I was going to.

Sam tried to speak, failed, and coughed. Interview over, I decided, and attached the syringe of sedative to the IV port.

But then her eyes popped open again. “Shutting it down,” she croaked. “Shutting… they’re shutting it down. Need to get… they said we’d g-get… don’t want withdrawal again. I need…” Her face contorted in agony.

“Withdrawal?” I said, sitting up straight.

“Yeah… like when you took me… hospital. Withdrawal…” She began to cough again, but it came out as dry wheezes. No more time.

“You’re going to sleep, Sam,” I told her as I was pushing the sedative. “I need to put you to sleep so I can help you. You’ll wake up in a couple of days.” So rapidly did the drug take hold that I’m not sure if she heard me or not. I waited sixty seconds, then flicked an eyelid  and got no response. I pushed the paralytic, and watched Sam Jensen’s breathing slow, then stop.

“Ready with the bougie,” I said to Jessie. I slipped my laryngoscope into the mouth and swept the tongue aside. A bead of sweat trickled down my nose; I ignored it. The edema was starting to get bad, but I could still see everything clearly. The airway was inflamed, but not ashy or particularly discolored, and I had some hope that it hadn’t gone deeper to do significant damage to the alveoli.

“Bougie,” I said. Just as Jessie slid a long blue stick of plastic into the mouth the truck hit a pothole, very nearly robbing me of my precious view of the trachea. I hissed, “Fuck!” took a moment to steady myself, then took the blue plastic stick from Jessie’s hand, easing it down and in.

“Tube me,” I commanded. Jessie slipped the endotracheal tube over the bougie, and I took it from her, sliding it in deeper and watching as it slipped between the vocal cords, then inflating the cuff.

“Bag,” I said. Jessie hooked the bulbous bag valve mask to the end of the tube and squeezed. I watched the chest rise. “Nice,” I exulted.

But the self-satisfaction that always comes in the wake of a successful field tube was short-lived. The memory of my father’s waxy, gray visage blurred my vision, and I pushed it aside with a herculean effort.

I secured the tube, then listened to the lungs to ensure we were getting air on both sides. I glanced at the monitor; vitals looked good. The dressing still draped across the abdomen didn’t appear to be absorbing any more blood. There was a reasonable chance that Sam’s luck would hold out once again.

***

“We weren’t even really that close,” I said numbly. I was on Terry’s love seat, legs drawn up, Halee seated next to me with her arm around my shoulders. My hair was still wet from the shower, and I held a drink in trembling hands. “I mean… after he split up with my mom, I always felt like he was more interested in his business than he was in me. I don’t know, Terry, I…” I broke off, fighting back tears.

There’d been a lot to cry about that day. Two firefighters had died, with three more still in critical condition. Two of the teens who were still in the building at the time of the explosion were also critical. The rest of them were fine; turns out they’d been under the influence of an ordinary sedative, not whatever wild shit had been plaguing the Bronning area of late.

I’d delivered Sam Jensen to Pinewood hospital in Johnstown, still alive and reasonably stable. Thormleton Ambulance had brought in three other patients from the meat locker scene while we were still at the hospital, one about as badly off as Sam, and two non-critical cases in a single truck. Terry had done a masterful job of resource allocation, distributing the patients so that no hospital emergency department or ambulance service was pushed too far beyond its limits.

There had been a bunch of officers at the hospital, along with two men in black suits who were clearly in authority over the cops. Terry told me later that a number of black-suited men and women in a black Suburban had appeared in the valley shortly after the last patient had been shipped off, politely but firmly taking charge of the scene. Thus far there was radio silence; we had been given no information regarding the cause of the explosion, or what else might have been found in the old brick building. The only real news was that all seven kids, injured or otherwise, were being held overnight for observation at the hospitals where they’d been taken, apparently on the insistence of the black suits.

“How’s your mom taking it?” Terry asked gently. I shook myself out of my reverie.

Terry had been waiting at the station upon my return. He shepherded me into his car and drove me back to his place. I didn’t have it in me to argue. He’d already farmed out his three youngest to a babysitter for the night. Now he was sitting in his recliner, drink in hand. If he suspected that Halee snuggling with me was anything more than an attempt at comfort, he didn’t say so.

“I don’t know,” I said. “She’d heard about it by the time I talked to her, and she was already putting a brave face on it. Or maybe she really doesn’t give a shit. They’ve been divorced for seventeen years, you know.”

I tossed my drink back in a single gulp. “Got any more where that came from?”

Terry regarded me sidelong, opened his mouth as if to speak, then rose from his chair. He plucked the glass from my hand, disappeared into the kitchen, and returned a moment later with a refill. I gave him what I hoped was a grateful little smile, and put away half the glass in one go.

Terry took only one step towards his recliner, halting in midstride at a sharp rap on the front door. Halee’s dog Lanie uncurled herself from her lap and hit the floor at a dead run, yipping obnoxiously as she made a beeline down the hall towards the foyer.

“Who the fuck…?” Terry muttered, following the dog at a more sedate pace. I heard the door open, then a moment’s silence.

“George,” Terry finally said. “Can I help you? This isn’t a great time.”

George Fronse gave a reply I couldn’t quite catch, and moments later the two men appeared in the hallway, George following close behind Terry. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and looked as if he’d just gotten out of the shower.

“Nettie,” George said as he strode into the living room, “I don’t even know how to start telling you how sorry I am. I knew your dad for a long, long time.”

“Thanks, George,” I managed.

Terry waved vaguely in the direction of the couch. “Have a seat, George,” he said. “Can I offer you a drink?”

George shook his head. “No, I’d better…” The words seemed to stick in his throat. “What have you got?” he said at last.

Terry blinked, but that was his only outward reaction. It would have gone unnoticed by anyone who didn’t know him well. “We’re enjoying a scotch that stands an above-average chance of changing your religion,” he said. “I also have some very good bourbon and rye, a decent spiced rum, or vodka and plain rum with appropriate mixers if you suffer from a delicate palate.”

“What do you have to mix? I don’t want you to go to a lot of trouble…”

“I could make you a screwdriver easily enough.”

“That’ll work. Thank you, Terry.” George sat, and Terry disappeared into the kitchen. An awkward silence fell, broken only by the sounds of ice and gurgling liquid from the kitchen. George made a point of examining his hands. Halee’s arm tightened around my shoulders, and I pulled her close.

Terry returned a moment later, pressing a drink into George Fronse’s hand. George took a sip, nodded approval, then took another. He cast his eyes back and forth across the room, between the recliner and the love seat. Finally his eyes settled on Halee.

“It might be better for this to be an adults-only conversation,” he said.

Terry opened his mouth, then closed it again. His eyes turned to his daughter, then back to George. “She stays for the moment,” he said.

George shrugged. “I’ll come right to the point, then. I covered for the two of you today. I told the DEA people that we went to that valley based on an anonymous tip. I did it out of respect for you, Nettie, but it puts my butt in a major bind if anyone finds out. I want to know what the hell’s going on, and how you knew where to go.”

He fixed his eyes on Terry, his expression suddenly hard. “And I especially want to know what your part is in all this. If I don’t get answers I like, you and me are going to have a major problem, and I promise you won’t like the way it ends.”

Terry met his gaze, unflinching. “I get it,” he said. “You figure all you have to do is tell the Feds that I had information no one else had access to, they’ll do some digging and find me guilty as hell, and you get the satisfaction of seeing me clapped in irons. I don’t know in what way I pissed in your Cheerios when I moved to town, but I’m officially through trying to get on your good side. Go fuck yourself, George.”

Halee stirred uncomfortably at my side, and I stole a glance at her. She was staring at her father. I looked back over at George, who was gazing steadily back into Terry’s furious eyes.

“I’ve probably deserved that,” he said. “But not this time. In case you weren’t listening, I covered for you today, Terry. I did it mostly for Nettie, but if I hadn’t, you’d have federal agents in here right this minute crawling up your ass with a microscope. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt here for the moment, but that has to end if you can’t tell me something that makes sense.”

Terry settled back, the hardness fading from his face. “Fair enough,” said after a moment’s thought. “but it has to be tit for tat, even taking into account your unfortunate lack of tits.”

Maybe it was just the stress of the preceding twelve hours or so, but even George cracked up a little at that. “Meaning?” he said.

“Meaning,” said Terry, “that you’re not the only one here who’s harbored suspicions. You’ve been acting just plain fucking weird ever since Jason Bixley face-planted that dump truck. Did you actually think Nettie and I didn’t notice how you just randomly appeared on calls you ordinarily wouldn’t have bothered responding to? Or how about that bullshit you fed Nettie about not being able to authorize access to the Bixley autopsy? You talk to us, and we’ll talk to you.”

George sipped his drink, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. He looked at me, then Terry, and at length began to speak.

“You probably know I’m part of the narcotics task force in this part of the state,” he said at last. “Just a bunch of city, state, and county cops that coordinate to try and chase down traffickers. There’s a big bust every year or so, but to be honest we don’t even really make a dent in the supply. We have a DEA contact who gets in touch with us once in a while, but mostly we’re on our own.

“Anyway, we received information from our DEA lady a few weeks back that people associated with some major cartels might be operating in our county, and to be extra vigilant for suspicious activity. Also to keep anything unusual under wraps as much as possible until DEA agents had a chance to look at the evidence.”

He looked at me apologetically. “That’s why I tried to keep the autopsy report away from you, Nettie. I guess if you wanted it badly enough, you probably got it through other channels, anyway.”

“Yeah,” I said, “I saw it. I suppose you already know that Sam Jensen had the same stuff in her system that Jason did. You wanna tell me what that shit is?”

“I wish I knew,” George said. “I’d like to say that our DEA contact is holding out on us, but I have an idea she doesn’t really know, either.”

Terry waved a hand towards George’s empty glass. “Another one, George?” he inquired.

“Sure, why the hell not?” said George. “Wes is hurt, so I’m the only city cop left, but after today I don’t really care. If anything happens tonight, I don’t think anyone will fault me if I just call in a mutual aid from the county.”

Terry fetched him another drink, while another silent pallor descended on the room. After he’d returned, handed over the glass and resumed his seat, George straightened from his slouch and fixed Terry with a steady gaze.

“Your turn,” said George. “How did you know where to look today?”

Terry fixed his gaze upon the ceiling, lips pursed. Finally he appeared to come to a decision. Halee,” he said at last, “tell the chief everything you’ve told us.”

She began, haltingly at first, then with an increasing confidence. By the time she was done, it was evident that the only thing standing between Halee and her father’s multisyllabic verbosity was time.

George was nodding slowly, almost to himself, as she finished. “I want to say I wish you’d come to me with that, Terry” he said at last, “but I understand why you didn’t, and to be honest I don’t think I’d have made the connection, either.”

He fixed his gaze directly on Halee. “You saved some lives today, young lady.”

I felt her tense in my arms. “If I’d just stayed in school,” she said bitterly, “Nettie’s dad would still be alive.”

George nodded. ”That’s possible,” he said, “but think about the numbers. Two people died today. If you hadn’t acted, we’d have lost all seven of the kids who were in that room. It wasn’t the only factor, either. I ran the operation by the numbers; slow and careful. It was textbook, and I’m going to come out smelling like a rose on paper. But if I’d moved faster, maybe we’d have got everyone out before the place went up. We can’t predict these things; we just have to do the best we can with the information we have. You did the right thing. Don’t ever think otherwise.”

Terry was looking at George with something like wonder. He turned his eyes to his daughter. “Consider the old soldier’s axiom that no battle plan survives first contact with the enemy,” he said. “Events of this nature are impossible to predict. We asked you to sound the alarm, and you did. Nothing else could have been expected of you, kiddo.”

Halee said nothing. I knew that she was going to have to work this out in her own way, and just hoped I could find a way to help her with that.

“What caused the explosion, George?” I inquired.

“The feds probably know,” he said. “I sure don’t. They’ve got the whole scene locked down, and aren’t talking about anything they find. There were a whole slew of pressure tanks in there for various types of gasses, and who knows what the hell was under that tarp or in the crates? I don’t know when or if we’re going to get access to the facility, or any information.”

“Have the kids who didn’t get hurt said anything?’ said Terry. “Or don’t you know?”

“I managed to talk to a couple of them before the feds took over,” said George. “They were just coming out from under some kind of narcotic and were pretty damn groggy, but what I was able to get was that the place has been a sort of party spot for the past month or so, with some really good drugs. The kids said there were some adults there kind of running the show, but it wasn’t anybody they knew from before. They had some names, but they struck me as fake ones. They had names for the drugs too, stuff like ‘frizzies,’ and ‘carbon boosters.’ Nothing I’ve ever heard of.”

“I talked to Sam Jensen a little before I tubed her,” I put in. George raised his eyebrows.

“She said some of the same things,” I said, “except for the names. And she said something about the place shutting down, and wanting to get some stuff before she went into withdrawal.”

Terry sat forward, and it dawned on me that I hadn’t gotten around to telling him, either. “Withdrawal?” he said. “You haven’t mentioned that.”

I met his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I said. “What with Dad and everything, I almost forgot about it. She talked about withdrawals, and specifically referenced the time I took her to the hospital last weekend.”

Terry shifted in his seat. “So maybe she wasn’t actually high, but going through withdrawal? How likely do you think that is?”

“It’s possible,” I replied. Despite the grief and the booze, the clinician in me was starting to take over, and I welcomed the respite. “Withdrawal manifests in all kinds of ways. Look at heroin; overdose is deadly, but the withdrawal won’t kill you. It just makes you so sick you wish you were dead. But alcohol withdrawal is dangerous as hell. The DTs can spark a cardiac arrest. If I see that, I’m pushing Versed faster than you can blink. So yeah… I thought she was high on something, you did too, but it could have been some really ugly withdrawal symptoms.”

“So… the same shit could conceivably happen to them all over again. Maybe we should make some phone calls.” Terry was already stabbing at his phone.

I dismissed this with a wave of my hand. “Everyone’s getting held for observation,” I reminded him. “They’re all in hospitals. If we hear tomorrow that kids are being sent home, we can deal with it then.”

George looked from me to Terry, who was reluctantly lowering his phone. “It probably doesn’t matter,” he said. “The investigation is out of my hands, and whoever was behind it is probably on another continent by now. I’m guessing the DEA people are going to be talking to you, Nettie, along with anyone else who transported one of the kids. Make sure you tell them everything Sam Jensen said to you; it might matter. I don’t like the way they cut me and the county people out, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t give them whatever information they need to go after these bastards.”

“As long as we can keep Halee’s name out of it,” Terry said, in a tone that left no room for argument.

“Fair enough,” said George. He stood. “I should go,” he said. “Nettie, I’m more sorry than I can say.”

I nodded numbly. Terry rose to his feet, beckoning George in the direction of the hallway. Moments later, I heard their voices from the foyer.

“Terry,” George was saying, “I don’t know that you and I are ever going to see eye-to-eye. But maybe we can declare a truce until this is over?”

“George,” I heard Terry reply in a weary voice, “if there’s any conflict here, it’s always been one-sided. I don’t have a problem with you. All that’s needed is for you to back the fuck off.”

There was a long silence. “I’ll do my best,” George said at last. The door opened, then closed again. Halee wrapped her arms around me and squeezed, sapping any restraint I had left. By the time Terry returned to the living room, I was weeping into her shoulder.

***

I ended up in Terry’s guest room for the night. I made a token effort to go home, but both Halee and Terry insisted otherwise, and I was simply in no condition to resist. As I lay back on the bed, I reflected that Terry and I both have dominating alpha personalities, and it’s probably the biggest source of friction between us. Halee was clearly developing the same characteristic, and I wondered what that would mean in the long term. Probably, I thought with wry amusement, she’ll end up hating both me AND her dad.

Then the door cracked open, and Halee was framed in the light from the downstairs hallway. She was wearing a yellow nightgown that came to her knees. Closing the door behind her, she crossed to the bed, sat, and took my hand in hers.

“Do you want company?” she asked simply. There was maturity beyond her years in the voice. “I’ll sleep in here with you if you want, or go away if you want to be alone.”

I slid over to one side of the bed and lifted the comforter. Halee slipped in next to me and snuggled up. I wrapped an arm around her.

“Think your dad will be okay with this?” I inquired in a whisper.

“I told him I was coming to check on you, and I might sleep in here with you if you wanted it,” she replied, also sotto voce. “He just sees it as two girls sleeping in the same bed, y’know?”

I leaned in and kissed her, my lips parted slightly. She opened her mouth a little, but made no other moves. I slipped my tongue inside. She teased the tip with hers for a moment, then pulled away.

“We shouldn’t,” she said.

“Because your dad’s in the house?” I asked. “We’d hear him on the stairs long before he got to us, and anyway I doubt he’d just barge in.”

“Well, there’s that,” she said, “but I didn’t think you’d really want to, after… you know…”

I kissed her again, this time more fervently. After a moment’s hesitation, she kissed me back with equal ardor.

“I don’t know how much I’m up to,” I told her, “but I need something. Make me forget the world exists, Halee.”

She was kissing my neck, gently, with love rather than passion. All the same, the heat was rising in me, and I felt myself getting wet. I took her hand and guided it downwards, stuffing it under the waistband of the sweat pants I was wearing. Understanding what I was asking for, she slipped her fingers beneath the elastic of my panties. Softly she caressed my mound, then went deeper, moistening her fingers on my slippery hole before starting a slow circular motion on my clit.

My response was immediate and I gasped for air, rocking my hips against her hand. She picked up the pace a little, and our mouths came together once more. When she pulled away, I registered through the waves of pleasure that her own breathing was ragged and strained. I slipped a hand up her leg and towards her center, only to find Halee’s hand already there and at work. I looked into her eyes, and she smiled even as a gasp of pleasure escaped her lips.

“You just relax,” she whispered with a sly grin. “I’m doing everything tonight.”

I gave in, burying my face in her shoulder. The waves were coming closer together, and with a greater intensity. With my head pressed to Halee’s chest, I could feel her shuddering response, and hear the hitch and tear of her breathing. I fed off of the sexual energy pulsating from this exquisite creature, just barely on the cusp of adolescence, and no more than a minute later I felt the inexorable birth of my climax. I bucked against her hand, pressing my lips together to stifle the cries.

Halee’s fingers slowed, delicately caressing my outer lips, but I could feel her other arm working furiously as she drove herself to ecstasy. As she fell off the edge of the cliff she twisted her head, burying her face deep in the pillow. I wrapped both arms around her and squeezed tightly as her body convulsed. Then we lay in each other’s arms, caressing and kissing. That’s the last thing I remember before merciful sleep overtook me.

On to Chapter Twelve!

Note from JetBoy: This story is pure fantasy — not just in its portrayal of mother-daughter sex, but in its depiction of of a severe head injury. In nearly every case, an accident of this severity would have complications and consequences beyond those described here. It’s not meant to be true to life, and should not be interpreted as such. I like to think of it as an erotic fable, one about a disabled girl’s quest for love and happiness.

by Karin Halle

When Jolie was eight years old, she was badly injured in a vehicular accident. Two cars collided; one left the road and crashed into a bus shelter where Jolie was seated. The shelter collapsed, trapping the girl inside. It took three hours for firefighters to extricate her from the debris.

As a result, Jolie was in a medically induced coma for four days. And though most of her physical injuries did gradually heal, she’d sustained a blow to the head that turned out to be a far more serious matter. Once she became conscious, subsequent tests would reveal that her intellectual development had been stunted by the accident. For the remainder of her life, Jolie would possess the mental capacity of a child of eight.

Otherwise, Jolie was a healthy and happy girl. Her mother Dana was the one who was obliged to cope with their new reality. There had been a substantial compensation claim for Jolie’s benefit, and Dana had been entitled to a claim of her own. These ensured that mother and daughter could live comfortably without Dana having to work. This meant that she could educate Jolie herself, rather than send the girl to a special school.

It wasn’t easy, but Dana obtained the materials she needed to teach a child of Jolie’s age, and a year beyond that. She threw herself into the task, and within a month mother and daughter were settled into a regular homeschooling routine. Before her accident, Jolie had been a bright child… and thankfully, she still was, even though she would never develop much further than that.

***

When Jolie was fourteen years old, a new complication arose. One day, Dana was organising some papers when her daughter entered the room, a frown marring her pretty face. She said, “Mummy, I feel funny.”

As all mothers do, Dana asked her child what the trouble was, but Jolie wasn’t able to put the right words to her experience. Again, she said, “It feels funny.”

Patiently putting her papers into two stacks, one for sorted and one for unsorted, Dana asked, “Well, where do you feel funny, pumpkin?”

Jolie told her, “My kitty,” placing a hand between her legs for emphasis.

Dana had known for years that an issue of this type was sure to arise. Her daughter knew where babies came from, and that sex was a pleasurable activity for grownups to enjoy… but Dana hadn’t taken the conversation any further, had never explained to Jolie that she would develop sexual feelings of her own. That, she had decided, can wait until another day.

Apparently, that day had arrived.

She tried to start the discussion with a feeling Jolie could relate to. “You know how when you’re hungry and you have something to eat, you aren’t hungry anymore?”

The girl nodded.

“And when you’re thirsty, you have a drink, and the thirst goes away.”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“And if you have an itch, you scratch it, and that usually makes it better.”

Jolie’s expression was somewhat doubtful, as if she suspected that Mummy wasn’t answering her question at all. Dana soldiered on.

“What you’re feeling inside has to do with sex, pumpkin.”

That really perplexed her. “But why, Mummy? Does that mean I’m going to have a baby? Sex makes babies happen, right?”

“No, no,” Dana hastened to say. “Well, it does, but not this time. Don’t forget, sex is for other things besides making babies. It also feels good. Well, people get hungry for that good feeling, and it makes them want to have sex. And now that you’re growing up, you’ll be getting hungry in the same way. That’s what’s happening to you now.”

“And that means… I need to have sex?”

Suddenly Dana felt as if she had two heads, and that they were banging against each other. No matter; she needed to find some way to explain this. “Not exactly. I mean, you may be feeling that hunger… but there are lots of times in life where you just aren’t able to have sex. What if no one else is there? What would you do then?”

Jolie thought about it. “Um, I dunno. What?”

So innocent, Dana thought. “You touch your kitty, and make the good feeling happen for yourself.”

Frowning, Jolie said, “Touch my kitty? Why? The feeling isn’t there, Mummy. It’s inside.”

“Just try it, honey… when you do, you’ll understand.”

“But… how, Mummy?” Jolie was becoming upset. “I don’t know what to do!”

Dana had no idea how to respond. How do I get her to understand this? She couldn’t even think straight – this situation was beyond anything she’d encountered. Can a girl with a mental age of eight be taught to give herself orgasms? What words do you use to convey the idea of sexual release?

Not knowing what else to do, Dana took her daughter’s hand. “Come with me,” she said, then led Jolie to her bedroom, where they sat down together at the foot of the bed.

“Take your shorts and underpants off for me, okay?”

Jolie was still confused, but she did understand that Mommy was doing her best to help. She stood up and slipped out of her shorts, pushing her panties down at the same time. Now nude from the waist down, she stood before her mother.

Taking a deep breath, Dana began. “You remember how I told you about your vagina, right? The inside of your kitty?”

Jolie furrowed her brow. “I – I’m not sure…”

“It’s that opening down there, pumpkin – the hole where you pee from, and where blood comes out when you have your period!”

“Oh, yeah, now I remember!”

“Very good. Well, if you touch down there, I bet you’ll find that you’re wet.”

“I haven’t wet myself, Mummy,” Jolie indignantly replied. “Really, I haven’t!”

But when she actually did touch between her thighs, there was wetness… then she recalled having felt that same wetness in her underpants.

“No, no!” Jolie began to cry. “I’m sorry, Mummy,” she whimpered, lowering her head in shame. She’d peed herself, just like a little kid! “I d-didn’t mean to…”

Dana was becoming frantic. Struggling to maintain her calm, she assured her daughter, “No, no, Jolie. That isn’t what happened. Listen to me.” She took Jolie in her arms, guiding the girl into her lap.

“Pumpkin, you didn’t wet yourself,” she said, resting her hand on Jolie’s tummy. Without giving it too much thought, Dana lightly touched her daughter’s vulva. Sure enough, it was moist. “It’s not wee. It’s… it’s a special liquid that comes from you when that hunger comes. You use it to make yourself feel good when… here, I’ll show you.”

Coating a finger with dew, she slowly ran the tip of it up through the girl’s slit. Jolie immediately stopped sobbing and sat bolt upright. Her eyes slowly drifted shut, and she gave a blissful sigh.

Part of Dana was reminding her that a special place in hell was reserved for mothers who sexually molested their daughters. But another part was saying, Mummies make their daughters’ hurts go away. Your child needs this. It’s compassionate, not sexual.

Dana dipped her finger into Jolie again for more of her honey. It wasn’t really necessary, but for some reason she did it anyway. My God, she really is aroused. Did I get this wet when I was her age? She used her index finger to retrace the path through the cleft of Jolie’s pussy, noting how her daughter shivered deliciously with each stroke.

“See, this is all you have to do. Okay, you try it now.”

Jolie gave her head an emphatic shake. “No, Mummy. You. It feels good. It feels really, really, really good!”

With a silent prayer of God forgive me, Dana began to masturbate her daughter for real. She was no longer simply teaching the girl, but giving her relief.

There was something else, too.

Dana had divorced Jolie’s father when the girl was five, fed up with his numerous infidelities. The split had been an ugly one, leaving her fed up with men in general. After that, she had little interest in getting into another relationship, and then came Jolie’s accident.

From that day on, her time had been consumed with caring for her daughter. The amount of effort required was intense. Dana dedicated herself to looking after her precious Jolie, and chose to do it on her own. The girl’s situation left her unable to interact well with kids her own age – to them she was a child in every way but physically. On the other hand, kids of the same intellectual age were often uncomfortable around a girl who was so much older than they were.

And during all that time, nobody had been there to look after Dana. Except for Jolie, she was on her own at thirty-six. Her parents were both gone; her only sibling was a brother who had succumbed to a heroin overdose. As for Jolie’s father, she wanted nothing more to do with him.

All Dana and Jolie had in this world was each other. And usually, it was all they needed.

Most evenings, Dana simply collapsed into bed after settling Jolie down for the night. Tending to the child wasn’t physically demanding, but the emotional effort was often considerable.

Now, as she masturbated her daughter, Dana tried to recall the last time she’d done that for herself, and realised that she had no idea.

Dana felt an unexpected but incredibly powerful urge. Taking her hand away from Jolie’s sex, she gazed at the half-naked girl, seeing her daughter in a whole new way.

Jolie reacted at once, sitting up. “Aw, Mummy… why’d you stop? Please don’t – touch me more!”

Dana began to open her blouse. “Get undressed, pumpkin. Everything off.”

Jolie had no idea what this new game was, but she was happy to continue. She shrugged out of her t-shirt, then sat down and slipped off her socks. Now she was completely nude.

Her top and jeans now on the floor, Dana took off her bra and panties, then took a moment to appraise the lovely fourteen-year-old in front of her.

It had been a while since she’d last seen Jolie naked, and even then she’d never looked at her like this – as a lovely, desirable young woman.

Her daughter had ripened deliciously. She was tall for her age, with curves that most girls of that age could only wish for. Her breasts were upright and shapely, capped with pert, rosy nipples. She had long, slender legs and a flat belly. Her mound was adorned with a light patch of wheat-hued pubes, sparse enough for the crease of her slit to show.

Why didn’t I notice before? I knew she was pretty as a picture, but somehow she became sexy, too. “Oh, pumpkin… you’re so beautiful,” she whispered.

Jolie blushed, hotly, but was clearly pleased. “You are too, Mummy,” she said, looking Dana up and down.

Dana was still in good shape. She wasn’t carrying much excess weight, her tits were still where they were supposed to be, and her legs were firm and nicely contoured.

Her heart thudded as she studied Jolie’s face, losing herself in the warm brown of those adoring eyes.

All we have in this world is each other, Dana reminded herself. Would it be such an awful thing if I were to make love to her, just this once? After all, I want Jolie’s first orgasm to be one she remembers forever.

She weighed the idea, let it unfold in her mind. Maybe I could pretend she’s my lover for a few minutes – my underage lover. Okay, that’s sort of weird, but also… wilder, more exciting. 

Still gazing at her daughter, Dana made a decision.

“Lie down with your legs spread apart for me,” she said, her voice low and sensual.

Jolie happily obeyed, the girl’s eyes wide open as she watched her mum. She was curious as to what was going to happen, while also hoping for more of those lovely touches.

Dana stretched out next to her daughter. “I think you’re going to like this.” Reaching between Jolie’s legs, she began tracing the vaginal opening, her finger sliding through the girl’s moist labia.

“That’s good, Mummy,” Jolie cooed. “I like it!”

“Oh, my,” Dana said to herself. This was even more of a thrill than she expected. She was breaking the law of motherly conduct in a big way, yet it felt strangely right, somehow. It had been ages since she’d had sex with someone who truly, honestly loved her… and who she adored every bit as much.

Wanting to take Jolie even further, Dana allowed a finger to graze her daughter’s clit. “Oh,” she moaned. “Oh.”

Jolie’s clitoris was tiny – just a button, really. But she certainly responds when you touch it, Dana thought, then realised that she had no real basis for comparison. She’d played kissing games with other girls when she was in high school, but had never experienced lesbian sex. In a way, we’re both virgins, she thought with a smile.

Suddenly she realised that Jolie was bucking up and down on the bed, crying, “Mummy, oh, Mummy! Don’t stop – p-please don’t!”

Centering her attention on the task at hand, Dana carefully toyed with Jolie’s bud. She gave it a gentle flick, and her daughter squealed with delight.

Whatever doubts Dana had about what she was doing had vanished into thin air. Her child was caught up in the purest ecstasy, and she was making it happen. Whether it was right or wrong, Dana’s sole objective was to make Jolie feel good.

By then, her daughter’s labia was flushed a bright pink, her clit was noticeably erect, and a trickle of juice was oozing from her slit.

Jolie gasped. “Ooooh, Mummy, that f-funny feeling, it’s getting big…!”

Dana’s lips were barely touching her child’s ear. “Don’t you worry,” she whispered. “You’ll know all about it in a moment.” As if to fulfil a prophecy, Dana gave the girl’s clit a light pinch.

Jolie’s body began to shudder and she moaned. “It’s… it’s… ohhhhhh!”

As an orgasm ran through Jolie, Dana continued to masturbate her daughter. That climax began to subside, but another one came crashing down, and Jolie screamed.

Dana didn’t want to overdo it on the child’s first sexual experience. Her fourteen-year-old body could surely take it, but she wasn’t as certain about her daughter’s mind. She withdrew her hand, and Jolie went limp.

Even after her rapture had ebbed, Jolie needed a few minutes to recover. Dana held the girl close, gently rocking her to and fro.

Jolie’s eyes fluttered open. “What happened, Mummy? What was that? What did you do to me?’ Her eyes shone with awe.

Placing a kiss on the tip of her daughter’s nose, Dana jokingly said, “I think I made my baby girl feel good. Is that what I did, pumpkin?”

“You did, Mummy! It was… it was the bestest feeling ever!”

“And we can do it again, too. Lots and lots of times!” Dana was astonished to hear those words leave her mouth. Wasn’t this supposed to be a one-time thing? she asked herself.

“I’d like that, Mummy!”

But I don’t want to stop, she answered. It was lovely, the most fulfilling sex I’ve had in ages… and it’s brought me even closer to my daughter. No, I can’t give this up.

Dana gazed into Jolie’s enchanting blue eyes, a question rising to her lips, one she desperately longed to voice. Can I ask this of my own child? she wondered, torn between her conscience and the fierce need that pulsed through her body.

Making a decision, she spoke. “Jolie… do you think, maybe, you could do something like that for me? Make Mummy feel nice?”

Jolie all but sprang into a kneeling position. “I will! I love you soooo much, Mummy. You should get to have the good feeling, too!”

Bringing Jolie’s hand to her lips, Dana kissed it. “Thank you, my love.” She drew the girl’s bare body to hers. “That’s what you are, Jolie. My love. I’d do anything for you.”

“Me too, Mummy!” Jolie exclaimed. “So, um… can I give you the feeling now?”

Dana had to laugh. “Impatient, are we? Fair enough.” Stretching out on her back, she parted her legs, putting her vulva on display.

Nibbling her lower lip, Jolie studied her mother’s sex. “I… I just touch you here, huh?” Her index finger grazed Dana’s labia.

It felt divine. Shouldn’t take much to make me come, Dana thought. I’m at least halfway there. “Just like that, pumpkin.” She felt Jolie caress her open slit. “Oh, yes… that’s very nice.”

Jolie began to masturbate her mummy, the girl’s brow furrowed as she concentrated on the task at hand, determined to do her best. Dana had to ask her daughter a couple of times to be more gentle, but they quickly established a steady rhythm. Jolie didn’t know how to stimulate the clitoris, but that didn’t really matter to Dana – the girl’s finger continued to trace a pathway through her cunt, going a little deeper with every pass, pushing Dana to the brink of a climax she’d needed for years without knowing it.

Dana hadn’t made love since her divorce nearly eight years earlier… and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d pleasured herself. So when Jolie brought her to orgasm, it was like coming home.

In its aftermath, Dana felt herself glowing with pleasure – and love. Hugging her daughter tightly, she found herself crying.

Jolie’s eyes grew wide with concern. “M-Mummy?” she whimpered. Her lower lip began to quiver.

“I’m okay, pumpkin,” Dana hastened to say, taking a steadying breath. The last thing she wanted right then was to make Jolie cry. “These are happy tears, because I – I love you so much.”

Satisfied with the explanation, glad to have made her mother feel good, Jolie was content to nestle in Dana’s arms and have her face showered with kisses,

Without quite understanding why, Jolie felt a sudden urge to kiss her mother. So when Dana’s lips wandered near hers, she puckered up and gave Mummy a firm kiss on the mouth, the way men and ladies did it on TV.

Taken by surprise, Dana was first to break away. She stared at her daughter, whispering, “Oh, baby girl…”

I’m in love with her, she realised. God in heaven, I’m in love with my own child. 

Closing her eyes, Dana gave Jolie a feather-light kiss. Then another… and another.

“That’s nice,” Jolie said. “I like kissing you, Mummy.”

It was an opportunity Dana couldn’t allow to pass. “Do you? Well, then… how would you like to learn how grownups kiss? Then you and I could be lovers.”

Tilting her head, Jolie gave her mum a curious look. “We could? You mean, like you and me are girlfriends?”

Dana’s heart was racing, and she felt tingly and warm all over. “That’s right, pumpkin. If you want, we can be girlfriends.” She chuckled. “I like being lovers even more, though.”

Jolie giggled. “But that’s silly! How can you be my lover and my mum?”

Bending to kiss her daughter’s cheek, Dana nuzzled her way down to Jolie’s neck, touching her lips to the soft skin. “Let me show you how,” she murmured, rolling onto her back, carrying Jolie along so the girl was now on top of her.

“Ooooohh,” Jolie sighed, a shiver racing through her slender frame. “Okay, Mummy.”

Dana placed a line of kisses along the teen’s throat, then up to her chin. From there, it was the briefest of journeys to Jolie’s mouth. “I adore you, my darling child,” Dana whispered. She kissed her again, this time allowing it to linger. After a moment, she parted her lips, teasing her daughter’s mouth with a brief flick of the tongue.

Jolie responded by letting her own lips drift open… and when Dana’s tongue emerged again, the teen met it with hers, as if joining in Mummy’s game. Dana wasn’t sure what the girl’s response signified, but wanted to encourage her, so she engaged Jolie’s tongue in a sort of dance.

Soon her daughter was eagerly participating, and their tongues flickered back and forth. At that point, Dana began to make the kiss deep and sensuous – letting their mouths slide together, gently nibbling at the girl’s lower lip, purring with pleasure. It seemed to work, too. Jolie’s response suggested she understood that this was more than just casual play.

Finally, Dana put her hands to Jolie’s shoulders and pushed upwards, so the teen was looking down at her.

“You like kissing, do you?” she asked. “My baby likes to kiss?”

Too dazed to reply, Jolie stared at Dana, as if waiting for something more.

Dana rolled Jolie onto her back and kissed her again. This was firm and passionate, and her daughter hesitated before joining in – but she did, soon matching her mother’s ardour.

It’s time, Dana told herself.

Scooting down to the end of the bed, she grasped her daughter’s knees and pushed them apart. She glanced up to see Jolie’s face – the girl’s expression was one of eager curiosity, of expectation. Perhaps Jolie didn’t know what her mother was about to do, but she was keen to find out.

Dana studied Jolie’s sex as if for the first time. It was a deep pink, adorned by a sprinkling of soft pubes. The labia were slightly parted, a hint of wetness visible.

Still, Dana hesitated, well aware of never having done anything like this before. It was crossing a dangerous line, she knew that, but it no longer mattered. My poor damaged child… she’s got a mother who adores her, but she deserves more. A lover. Someone to worship her body as well as her soul. Who is society to tell me I can’t give Jolie that?

There and then, she made her decision. Damn whatever the rules say – I was meant for this.

Moving closer, she gave her daughter’s pussy a long, slow lick. She heard Jolie make a squeaking sound of surprise, perhaps even delight, but after that she was so caught up in the act of going down on her daughter that she couldn’t concentrate on anything else.

It wasn’t long before Jolie was coming again, her hands clenched to fists, crying, “Mummy, Mummy, oooohh M-Mummy I love you!”

Dana was giddy with joy, gulping down her daughter’s honey as it flowed from Jolie’s slit, then licking inside for more. Probing further, the tip of her tongue touched the membrane that guarded the girl’s virginity. She pushed against it, but was unable to go any deeper.

Only later would she have misgivings, or even give it much consideration. But at that moment, it seemed the only logical move.

Gazing at her dreamy-eyed girl, Dana crooned, “Do you trust Mummy, pumpkin?”

Jolie was too far gone to do much more than mumble, “Uh-huh.”

Dana reached for a pillow and slipped it beneath Jolie’s pelvis, then gently spread her daughter’s legs apart, feeling a delicious shiver when the vaginal cleft parted ever so slightly, exposing its bright pink interior. Placing her finger at the entrance, Dana slipped it inside, savouring the warmth and wetness of Jolie’s cunt.

When the tip of her finger rested against her daughter’s hymen, Dana took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then spoke. “I’m going to open you up inside, so we can play even more lovely games together. This might hurt, pumpkin… but only for a moment. Okay?”

“Okay, Mummy. I’ll t-try to be brave…”

Dana slipped her finger into the gap where Jolie’s monthly flow could get past, then pushed it inside with a single steady stroke.

“Ooooh!” the girl gasped, more in surprise than pain.

“Are you okay? Did that hurt very much?” A bit late now for that to be a concern, she admonished herself.

“No, Mummy. It wasn’t bad.”

Dana whispered, “Thank God.” She withdrew her finger until only the tip remained, then slid it back inside. Moving very slowly, she began to pump in and out, gradually increasing the pace.

“S-so full, Mummy!” Jolie exclaimed. “I… I like this!”

I’m fucking my daughter, Dana told herself.

A mere day earlier, she would have been horrified by the very thought. Now she was beside herself with happiness, astonished by how utterly right this felt.

Getting an idea, Dana turned herself around, bending over Jolie’s tummy. Now she could pleasure the girl’s cunt with her finger while sucking her clit.

A shivery moan escaped the teen’s lips, and her limbs began to tremble.

In very little time Dana’s efforts were rewarded – her daughter was climaxing again. She took Jolie through the rise and fall of ecstasy, then blessed her with a kiss.

“I adore you, my darling, darling child,” Dana whispered. “Now you’re Mummy’s little lover… and I’m going to make you the happiest girl in the world.”

“Love you, Mummy,“ Jolie sighed, barely able to get the words out before she fell asleep.

Dana lay quietly for a while, gazing at her daughter – her beautiful unique girl, so childlike, so perfect. After a while, she too drifted off.

***

When Dana awakened, there was still a hint of daylight outside – but the light wasn’t what had roused her.

She quickly realised that her legs were apart, and Jolie was lying between them, licking her pussy!

When she saw her mother was awake, Jolie raised her head. With a grin, she said, “You wanted me to do those things to you, Mummy… but I didn’t get to do this yet!”

Falling back on the bed, Dana gave herself over to Jolie’s love. The child was planting little kisses all over her vulva. There was no pattern, no way to guess where the girl’s lips or tongue would touch next – her mound, her clit, the cleft between her labia, the entrance to her cunt, even her perineum.

It was lovely, but too unfocused to get Dana where she needed to be. And by then, her need was acute.

“Lick me, pumpkin,” she gasped. “Like it’s a lollipop!”

Jolie’s kisses turned to licks, and the teen fell into a pattern – her tongue travelled from Dana’s hole through her labia, ending with her clit. Then Jolie licked again.

Without meaning to, Dana exclaimed, “Oh, fuck!”

Jolie’s face popped up. “You shouldn’t say that, Mummy,” she scolded. “That’s a naughty word!”

Dana looked at Jolie, fighting an impulse to laugh. “It’s okay when you’re making love, pumpkin. That’s what the word is for in the first place. You shouldn’t say it at school, or around grownups… but when we’re doing things like this, it’s okay.” Reaching out, she caressed her child’s face. “You say it, pumpkin. Say that word.”

Jolie stared at her mother, not certain what to think. “You want me to say that?”

“Just for me, honey. Please?”

Jolie shrugged, as if to say, These crazy grownups – what’ll they think of next? She whispered the word. “Fuck.”

“That’s it, darling. Say it again!”

She did, louder this time. “Fuck.”

“Again!”

Louder, now with a touch of confidence. “Fuck!”

“See, isn’t that fun?” Dana said. “Sometimes you should enjoy being naughty.”

“I guess.” Jolie decided to try it again. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, then burst into giggles.

“Okay, now let’s try something a bit different. Go back to licking me… but this time, say the word every time you take a lick.”

Jolie mulled the idea over. “And then you’ll get the good feeling again?”

“Oh, yes. I very much will.”

“Cool!” Delving back between her mother’s legs, Jolie took a deep breath. “Fuck,” she announced, then took a lick.

“Oh, God,” Dana moaned. “Oh, yes.”

“Fuck!” This time the teen said the wicked word right into her mum’s kitty, so she could give her a lick straight away.

“Fuck!” Lick.

“Fuck!” Lick.

That was enough to set Dana off. She exploded in an orgasm, one powerful enough to cause her to gush into Jolie’s face.

Oh, hell, she thought, expecting to hear a howl of protest from her daughter. Instead, she got a giggle.

“You wet yourself, Mummy. But it’s not wee, you said so!”

“That’s right, it isn’t,” said Dana. Sitting up, she drew her daughter close, claiming the girl’s mouth in a tender kiss. Jolie responded immediately, her tongue darting between Mummy’s lips, and their kiss went from gentle to passionate.

When they finally drifted apart, the starry-eyed girl whispered, “Am I really your little lover now? And we get to be girlfriends? Really and truly?”

“Yes, Jolie,” Dana murmured. “If that’s what you want… then so do I. More than anything.”

Suddenly animated, Jolie was all but bouncing in her mother’s arms. “I do want, Mummy!” she squealed. “I do!”

Dana touched her lips to the teen’s cheek. “Then that’s how it is, pumpkin. Forever and always.”

“Good,” Jolie cooed, then broke into a huge yawn.

“Oh, my… I know a certain girl who’s having an attack of the snoozies–” Then Dana was yawning herself.

“You too, Mummy!” Jolie gleefully replied. “We both got the snoozies!”

“Well, there’s only one thing to do about that.” Gathering up the scattered bedding as best she could, Dana covered their bodies. “C’mon, pumpkin. You’re staying with me tonight. Let’s get some sleep.”

“Okay.” Jolie nestled into her mother. “Night-night, Mummy. Love you.”

“Love you too, pumpkin.”

As her eyelids grew heavy, Dana was thinking about her special child. So innocent, an angel in the guise of a young girl. She hoped nothing had happened between them to spoil that innocence. Somehow, it seemed unlikely.

Her last thought before drifting off was I’ve got to be the luckiest mum in the world.

On to Part Two!