Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

by Kinkychic

Many thanks to JS contributor BlueJean for editing this story.

***

From late July and right through August, I regularly went picking blackberries for my mother. She made the most gorgeous pies and crumbles with them, along with some added apples, of course. She also made pretty good wine, just as long as I’d picked enough. Most years, I picked anything up to fifty or sixty pounds. We had an extra freezer in the garage just for all the wild fruits I collected. Damsons, elderberries, and sloes added to the selection.

A couple of years back the crop hadn’t been as good as it usually was, so hoping to find a better area, I began to search further afield.

Boudica Way is a thirty-mile-long bridal way dating from the Roman occupation of Britain. A short walk from our house, it trailed through a stretch of woodland where I’d never ventured before. I decided to try my luck there, and very quickly found good clumps of brambles covered with large ripe berries. Even better, nobody else seemed to be picking along here.

I came to a point where a track ran off to the left, and being naturally inquisitive, wondered where it might lead. It wasn’t very far before my way was barred by a high metal gate. A notice hung in the centre: Private Property No Trespassing. Peering through the bars, I caught a glimmer of sun reflecting off water. There must be a lake down there, I thought. The area had many old and abandoned gravel quarries, and I guessed this might be one. The sign was probably only there for safety reasons.

My curiosity got the better of me. On either side of the gate was just dense shrub amongst the trees, and after a quick look and a bit of poking about, I soon found a way around.

The track leading away from the gate was fairly steep heading down, but very soon I saw it did indeed lead to a lake. My jaw dropped when I came through the trees and out into the open. Never had I seen such a stunningly beautiful vista. Thick, lush grass carpeted the landscape, dotted with a smattering of beautiful wild flowers in various colours. The lake in the centre was huge – maybe the equivalent of ten soccer pitches – and framed behind by high excavated cliffs. There were two reed and shrub covered islands towards the middle.

There didn’t seem to be anyone else around. Did I dare go down and take a look? Yes! So what if I was caught? What could they do to a thirteen-year-old?

I walked to the edge of the lake and found a small jetty with a little rowing boat tied to it. Fish swam about in the crystal clear water, and everywhere I looked there were dozens of ducks, as well as a large family of swans.

Past the lake, I followed the vague outline of a path that ran back towards the treeline, and a short ways in I was surprised to discover a flight of wooden steps that seemingly disappeared up into the trees.

Then I saw the treehouse hidden amongst the higher branches.

Not just any old treehouse, though – this one had a fenced ramp running from the steps that led up to a spacious veranda. The door and windows were all glazed and there were even wooden tiles on the roof.

I stood there peering up, amazed. What was this place? It was surely too big and elaborate to be a child’s treehouse. Did someone live here? Was this some rich family’s summer retreat? The whole place was a hidden paradise.

I resisted the urge to climb up and take a closer look – if it was someone’s home I didn’t want to get in trouble for trespassing.

I wandered off around the other side of the lake instead, and bingo! There on the edge of the trees were plenty of blackberry bushes bearing the biggest berries I’d ever seen. I’d hit the jackpot!

In no time at all I had two buckets so full I was struggling to carry them. It didn’t occur to me until then that I would have to carry the heavy load all the way home, which was at least a couple miles away. Eventually, I did manage it, but my shoulders were awfully sore the next day.

***

I began to visit the island on the lake every few days, and never did I see another soul on those occasions, except the ducks and the swans and the fish. Oh, and the wasps that buzzed around any over-ripe berries in my buckets, but they didn’t bother me much.

It was one particularly hot day out on the lake when I decided to sit and soak in the beauty of my surroundings for a while. I had already picked my berries for the day, so I went and hid my buckets in the shade of a tree, then walked back to where the steps led up to the treehouse. I sat there at the bottom where it was nice and cool, and looked out onto the clear water. An ideal spot to just chill out for a bit.

I was startled awake sometime later by a voice and realised I must have dozed off.

“What are you doing here? Didn’t you see the sign? It’s private property, you know. It says so on the gate.”

For a moment, I just stared at the girl who had spoken, rubbing my eyes sleepily and trying to gather my thoughts.

“I didn’t come through the gate,” I told her, then pointed in another direction. “I came in over there.” I no longer entered by the trackway. I’d found a shorter, though steeper route through the trees. I knew about the sign, of course, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t know it was private, honestly.”

We sort of stared at each other for a moment, neither of us quite sure what to say next. She was pretty, maybe a year or so older than me, I guessed. What really got me though, were her denim shorts – well, the lack of them, really. They were obviously a size or more too small for her. They had a ragged cut hem, and from where I was sitting I could just see the pink edge of her panties. The front of the shorts were tight and left almost nothing to the imagination. Her legs – oh wow, her legs! – were about half a mile long and utterly gorgeous.

“It’s rude to stare, you know,” she said with the hint of a smile on her lips. “Especially where you’re staring.”

I started to get up. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any harm. Er… by being here, I mean.”

“It’s okay. You can stay, I suppose.” She plonked herself down next to me on the step. “You don’t seem to be the vandal type. So how did you find this place?”

I explained to her that I came here sometimes to pick a few berries, and that I liked to sit and watch the ducks. “I’m sorry if I’ve done wrong… but I guess I already said that, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind, but it’s just as well it was me that found you and not my father. He can be very harsh with trespassers, because of the damage they’ve caused in the past.”

Once again I started to say I was sorry, but she interrupted. “Stop apologising – I’ve said it’s okay. What’s your name, anyway?”

I saw her smile and felt myself relax a bit. “I’m called Bee. It’s not my real name, though.”

She giggled. “How lovely! But are you a nice bee or a stingy bee?”

I’d heard all the jokes before, of course, and they usually bored me, but I didn’t seem to mind it from her. I returned her smile. “Me? I’m a friendly bee. I never sting.”

Then she did something strange – well, strange for two teenagers, I suppose – held out her palm for a handshake. “I’m Davina. It’s nice to meet you, Bee – even if you are a trespasser.”

I instantly fell in love with the sound of her tinkling laughter. Not only did it have a musical quality, but it was also incredibly infectious. I couldn’t help but join in.

She told me all about the lake, how it was a long-abandoned gravel quarry. Her father had bought it almost twenty years ago and landscaped the whole place. She took me to a reedy corner and showed me where the ducks nested. Several had eggs in them. The swans nested on the other island, she told me.

I glanced at my watch and realised with some alarm how much time had flown by. “Davina, I really have to go. My mother will be fretting.”

She gave me a little pout of disappointment. “Oh. Perhaps you could come again tomorrow? Maybe around twelve o’clock?”

I heard the hope in her voice. She seemed to really want me to come back. “I’d love to,” I told her. “I can bring some sandwiches and stuff, if you like.”

She clapped her hands together. “Yes! And I’ll bring some drinks.” A flicker of doubt crossed her face and she reached out to touch my hand. “Promise you’ll come, Bee?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here.”

I went to find my buckets. When I turned back, Davina was still there on the steps of the treehouse. She raised a hand to wave and then I made my way into the trees.

***

It was the school holidays, so Davina and I met every day at the same time. In only a few days, we became firm friends, and I was no longer a trespasser but a bonafide guest.

On every visit she wore the same style shorts as she had on our first meeting, and I was finding it very hard not to stare at her crotch when she sat on the grass in front of me. I’d known for over a year that I was only into girls, but Davina never gave any hint that she might be open to the same way of thinking. I was scared to spoil our friendship, so I resolved to behave myself. I just loved her company, and that would have to do.

It had been a month since our first meeting when Davina asked me, “Bee, would you like to see the island? Not the one with the swans – they can get a bit spiky when you go near their nests – but we can go to the other one.”

I told her I’d like to, and soon we’d collected a pair of oars from the boat shed and were making our way down to the little jetty.

“Have you ever rowed a boat before?” Davina asked me.

I hadn’t, and didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of my new friend. “No. I’d prefer to just watch, if you can manage on your own. Maybe I can have a go coming back.”

I soon discovered that sitting in front of a girl wearing small, tight shorts while she rows a boat is quite the eye-opener. The gentle undulation of Davina’s pussy lips through the thin material as she went back and forth with the oars was making me tingle quite badly between my legs. By the time we reached the island I didn’t know what to do with myself.

“You’d best take your shoes off,” Davina said as the boat came to a stop. “We’re going to get wet feet here.”

Carefully we climbed ashore, and took the rope with us to tie the boat up safely. Everywhere seemed squidgy and wet underfoot until I followed her to the centre of the island where the ground was firmer.

Now we were in our own little sanctuary, the surrounding bushes hiding us completely from the outside world. We lay down in the soft, dry grass, the sound of ducks and other birds creating a sweet symphony in this slice of paradise.

Davina was still a little out of breath from her rowing, and I found myself staring again, this time at the rise and fall of her breasts, which were a fair bit larger than mine.

She suddenly got to her feet and my eyes followed her as she plucked a wildflower from the ground, then sat back down, closer to me now. I was surprised when she reached out and tucked it into my hair. “There – a beautiful flower for a beautiful girl.”

I felt the heat of a blush on my face. She laughed her wonderful laugh. “Bee, don’t say you’ve gone shy on me. I’ve noticed you don’t seem shy when I catch you looking.”

I startled at her words, then felt even more warmth infuse my cheeks.

“Oh yes, I’ve seen how you look at me,” Davina continued. “At first, I was a bit cross with you. I thought about ending our friendship, you know. After a while though, I realised that I was waiting for you to look, and then wanting you to look. Then today, in the boat, I saw you getting all hot, and I really liked what I was doing to you.” She blew out a breath of air. “There. I’ve said it.”

She stretched a knee back towards her head in a kind of yoga move, and when I turned to look at her – still trying to take in her words – her thigh was a few inches from my face.

If I still had any reservations, they now evaporated. I craned my neck slightly until my lips made contact with her knee. I let them linger there while my eyes locked on hers. For a long moment she lay there, simply looking. Then her fingers touched my cheek. “Bee…”

I sat up and leaned towards her. I saw both the wanting and the uncertainty in her eyes. “Davina, I’m going to kiss you. Please let me, don’t be scared.” Then my lips came to hers, gentle and loving.

Very slowly, she accepted my kiss. I felt her tremble beneath me, then she was kissing me back. I applied a little more pressure and she in turn pressed harder into me. My hand trailed to the nape of her neck, pulling her tighter against me. When the kiss became more urgent, I realised how much longing I’d built up for this beautiful girl. I hadn’t expected it to come to anything, but now, finally, she was in my arms.

But I felt her suddenly tense and pull away. I let her go, and she sat staring at the ground.

“Bee… I can’t. I’m too nervous. I think we should go.”

I put my arm back around her shoulder and gave it a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry, I went too fast. I know you’re new to this, but I love you. I don’t want us to leave things like this.”

Her eyes met mine. “You love me? You really love me? But we’re both…” Her voice trailed off.

“Girls? So? And yes – I really do love you.”

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of her. “I guess you’ve done this before, but I haven’t. I know I started it – I egged you on, and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

I gently touched her arm. “Let’s just lay here a while. We can still be friends.”

She settled back into the grass alongside me, her shoulder just barely brushing against mine. We lay there like that for what seemed an age, not a word spoken by either of us.

Then I felt her fingers slowly hook into my own. I squeezed gently, mindful not to scare her again.

Still we said nothing, until eventually I heard her whisper, “You can kiss me again if you want. I don’t mind.”

I propped myself up on an elbow and leaned into her. “Are you sure? You can tell me to stop if you don’t like it, I won’t be upset.”

Davina smiled at me and murmured, “Kiss me, then.”

“I will. I want to so much.”

My finger traced her lips, back and then forth. She pursed them, kissing my fingertip tentatively. “Go slowly with me, please.”

I brought my lips softly to hers in the faintest hint of a kiss. “Close your eyes,” I whispered, then kissed her eyelids with another gentle caress, before peppering more upon her nose and across her cheeks.

Turning on my side, I gently pulled her towards me. We gazed into each other’s eyes. “I love you, Davina.” When I touched my lips to hers once again, she returned the kiss.

I brushed my fingers across her chin, lightly teasing the soft skin there, then trailing round to explore her ears and the nape of her neck. When my hand returned, I left it poised at the open neck of her top.

When Davina’s arm dropped across my back, I realised my t-shirt had ridden up and her hand had settled on my bare skin. For a second I thought she would pull it away, but her warm fingers remained where they were.

Pressing the kiss the merest fraction more, I felt her fingers move across my back, up beneath my t-shirt, a tentative exploration.

 

I fiddled with her top button, not really trying to undo it, just making her aware of what I wanted. Her hand had reached the nape of my neck, forcing my t-shirt even further up. I took that as a sign that she wanted me to go further.

I hooked the first button of her top through its eye, then rested my palm upon her upper chest, just above the swell of her breasts. Davina made no response, but our kiss seemed to intensify. My fingers slowly spread out across her skin until I found the top of her bra. Now I traced a fingertip along the edge and up the other side, then back towards the centre. I felt the fingers of her other hand touch my thigh, then settle there.

Her second button slipped easily through its hole. I seized the moment, lowering my hand until it rested upon the rise of a breast. My lips parted and I allowed my tongue to trace hers. Gently, ever so gently, I squeezed her breast, and was relieved to feel fingers dig a little harder into my neck and a hand close in on my thigh.

I hooked a finger beneath the thin strap of Davina’s bra and eased it slowly from a shoulder, then let it slip down her arm. My hand edged back, pushing the material away, and then I had a soft, bare breast in the palm of my hand. I sensed, rather than heard, a low moan from deep in her throat, so I pressed a little more firmly.

Now I could feel the nipple stiffen beneath my fingers. When I broke our kiss, her eyes fluttered open and regarded me with a lusty curiosity.

“I love you,” I told her again.

She smiled and pulled my head down alongside hers, so I nuzzled her ear with wet little kisses.

“Bee,” she whispered. “I… I’m all right now. Please… love me.”

She groaned aloud when I took a nipple between my fingers and rolled it back and forth. My mouth plied little kisses down her neck, into the dip of her throat, then over the swell of her breasts. I reached a nipple and flicked it with my tongue before closing my lips and taking it into my mouth.

The fingers on my thigh gripped harder. I lifted my leg and slid it over hers, pulling her closer, her hand caught between us. I wondered if she could feel the heat of my pussy on her skin.

Her nipple was fully stiff now as I suckled it, and I could feel her breathing increase in tempo. I undid the rest of the buttons on her top until I could push it open. My hand slipped behind to unclasp her bra, then went back to her top to try and ease a sleeve down. She understood my intention and her arm came out from under my t-shirt. Her sleeve pulled free, and the garment dropped behind her on the grass.

Davina was pulling at the front of my t-shirt. I lifted my head from a breast and let her drag the top over my head. I was about to bend back down but she held me there, peering at my budding titties.

“Beautiful… Oh, Bee, you’re so beautiful.”

I watched as she edged closer to plant soft kisses upon my nipples, first one, then the other. She leaned back, and a hand found me, fingers brushing to and fro. “So stiff…” she murmured.

My own hand was trailing across her tummy. I reached the top of her shorts, but knew I’d struggle to get inside – they were far too tight. Instead, I ran my hand over them, brushing lightly across the material. I could feel the curve of her lips, and pushed a little harder. Her body responded with a small tremor and a sharp intake of breath.

I rubbed up and down the cleft through her shorts while our mouths met in another kiss. Her other hand settled between my legs, her thumb pressing against my pussy. As much as I hoped for it, though, she didn’t move her hand at all. I think she may have been fully focused on what I was doing to her.

I sensed Davina’s passion rising, and knew that just rubbing through her shorts wasn’t going to be enough. I took hold of the fastener and tried to undo it, but it was far too stiff and I couldn’t manage with one hand. Then her fingers were on mine, and between the two of us we managed to push it open. I pulled the zipper down and eased my hand inside her panties.

Her shorts were very tight, but eventually I felt her pussy lips beneath my touch. She gasped as I pressed into her, my fingers barely able to move. I slid them up a little until I found her clit. Her body instantly tightened, and when she held her breath I knew she was close to coming.

I’d barely noticed how or when she’d managed to get inside the leg of my shorts until I suddenly felt her touch my pussy lips. I ground my hips down and forced her hand between them. Then I was rocking back and forth, massaging my clit on her fingers.

I felt the tremors thrum through her body as she clawed at my neck and shook her head from side to side, breaking our kiss. “B-Beeeee!”

I wanted to come too, but Davina was too far gone to be aware of my needs at that moment. I humped her fingers, rocking my hips faster and faster. I had enough sense left to remind myself not to pee, as I often do when I come – it would most likely shock her, besides making a mess of both our shorts.

I squeezed my eyes tightly shut as I strove for a climax, vaguely aware that Davina’s fingers were now between my pussy lips. I just knew they were something to use. I pumped myself up and down, fucking her hand as hard as I could.

I could hear Davina speaking to me from far away. “Are you going to orgasm, Bee? Please… do it for me.”

I arched my back, going rigid as I dug my toes into the soft, cool grass. She was trying to help, her fingers moving against me, and all at once I could feel the pee coming.

I rolled back, pulling Davina with me, her hand still grinding against my pussy. I wished she’d touch my clit, but it was too late – I was coming anyway. The tremors rocked me and I felt the familiar hot jet inside my shorts.

Slowly I came back to myself. God, how I had needed that.

I opened my eyes when her lips touched mine in a soft caress. She was peering at me, and all I saw there was love. No shock, no regret – just love. She brought her head down alongside mine and kissed my neck. Her fingers were still inside me.

I heard her giggle and asked, “What’s funny?”

“I never believed I’d have my hand on a girl’s pussy. Now I don’t want to take it away.” She laughed again. “Did you know you’re soaking wet? I think you peed yourself.”

I felt myself blush a little. “Sorry, I do that sometimes when I come. I tried to control it, but… well, it just happens.”

Davina seemed amazed. “I made you come? I thought maybe I had but I wasn’t sure.” She paused for a moment before continuing with a smile, “I did make you come, didn’t l? Oh my God, it was so wonderful. Thank you, Bee.” Then she leaned in to kiss me again.

When she sat up, her breasts were free and bare, but she didn’t seem shy at all. She glanced down at my shorts, then her own. “Do you think we should take them off to dry them out?”

One of my dreams had come true today – I’d made this beautiful girl come. Now I’d get another: to see her naked. I lifted my hips to push my shorts down, but she stopped me.

“Let me.”

She gave them a tug, slipping the damp material down my legs and pulling them away to hang across a bush. When she peered back at me, her gaze travelled down to my panties. It was hard not to notice the gleam in her eyes. Her fingers hooked into the elastic and drew them down, the faintest hint of a grin teasing the corners of her mouth. She paused briefly when my pussy first came into view, her eyes flashing, then continued to tug them down.

When she looked up and saw that I was watching, her cheeks filled with colour. She turned away to hang my panties alongside my shorts.

“Now yours,” I said, reaching for her. She grabbed my hands, and I thought she was going to stop me, but when her hips lifted she helped me wiggle her shorts down. As small and tight as they were, her panties came down with them.

I threw Davina’s shorts aside without thinking, instead of hanging them out to dry, but on an impulse I brought her panties to my face. She put a hand to her mouth in shock as I breathed in deeply, taking in her wonderful aroma. I giggled and threw them back at her. She went to catch them but they landed on her head. Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she bunched them up in her hands and then dropped them on the grass.

“I think you’re a perv,” she laughed.

My eyes took in her naked beauty. God, she was divine – everything I could have wished for. I was already moving down between her legs as I replied, “You better believe it.”

Then my mouth was upon her lovely pussy lips.

Davina gave a little squeal of surprise, but made no attempt to stop me. “Bee! What’re you…” Then my tongue found her clit. “Oh! Oh my God!”

I gave her little nub a long, slow lick. Her legs opened wider and she pulled her feet up towards her body, leaving me framed between her knees.

After licking her pussy for a while I sat back on my haunches. “Well? Is it good?”

“Do it again…” she said in a hushed tone, then pulled my head back between her legs.

I didn’t need telling twice. But first I wanted to see inside those lovely little lips. My fingers spread her open. Her pee hole peeped out at me and the flesh deeper into her vagina glistened with sticky dew. I slipped two fingers through her folds, then slowly eased them inside.

Now that there were no tight shorts to hinder my exploration, I settled into a nice slow fuck. Davina gave a brief jolt when I returned my mouth to her clit, but I sucked more gently this time, aware of how sensitive she’d be after coming. She peered down at me, her top lip curled in a little snarl. I heard her swear for the first time. “Fuck, that’s good…”

I gathered up one of her legs with my free hand and brought it to rest across my shoulder. She did the same with her other leg. Any inhibitions she might’ve had were now long gone – she’d given herself to me completely.

I had access to her beautiful arse now, but had to remind myself to go cautiously. I couldn’t resist touching her there, though, and allowed my hand to trail its way across her thigh until I was cupping a cheek. I kneaded her there a while, inching slowly towards the centre where I briefly let my thumb graze her hole. She tensed at the contact, but I’d already moved on.

Davina’s body seemed to be coiling tighter, her passion rising, so I fucked her pussy a little faster, probing different points to see where I might get a reaction. Her vaginal walls clamped down over my fingers, and I knew I’d found a particularly sensitive spot. Her hips thrust forwards, urging me on as I tickled her there.

The trembling throughout her body was a clear sign that she was ready to come again. I trailed a finger through the crack of her arse, then spun the tip in little circles over the rosebud, all the while still fucking her pussy.

Her thighs gripped my neck tightly, and I could feel the spasm of her pussy clutching and releasing, clutching; releasing. When she let out a long, low moan of desperate pleasure, it was clear she was in the throes of climax, so I slipped a finger into her arse, knowing she was in no state to protest, even if she’d wanted to. I took her clit into my mouth and sucked hard until she lost control, wailing incoherently. Somehow I managed to keep hold of her as she thrashed against me, driving her orgasm on and on.

There was one last surge before she collapsed, spent, lying limp beneath me. I was worn out too, my energy sapped by Davina’s violent struggles. I lay my head upon her tummy, my finger still buried inside her pussy.

I could feel her stroking my hair. “Bee, come here. Let me hold you,” she murmured.

I slipped out of her, then crawled up into her waiting arms. They wrapped around me and pulled me close, and then we were lying quietly together – the silence of lovers wholly content in their embrace.

Finally, she spoke. “Bee, I never knew… So beautiful. I’m so happy.”

“I know, my love.” I kissed her softly, then sat up. “We ought to go, it’s getting late.”

“But I want to try and love you, just like you did to me. Let’s stay a while longer.”

“We have tomorrow,” I told her with a smile. “Tomorrow you can love me. Let’s go.”

I managed to row the boat back across the lake (not too badly for my first time, I didn’t think), and this time it was Davina’s turn to stare, even though my shorts weren’t quite as revealing as hers.

“I think you’re a bad influence on me,” she told me with a little smirk. “I never would’ve imagined wanting to look between another girl’s legs before you came along.”

A short while later we were lingering on the path to Davina’s treehouse, clinging together in a passionate kiss. Finally we parted, said our goodbyes, then headed our separate ways.

“Davina!” I called after her. “Will you wear a dress or a skirt for me tomorrow?”

She laughed at that, then gave me a wave before disappearing from sight.

Tomorrow seems such a long way off, I thought as I made my way home. I smiled to myself as I remembered the first time I’d discovered this secret place. I came to look for berries, but found a mysterious treehouse and a beautiful girlfriend as well.

Thank God for blackberries!

The End

by Rachael Yukey

“Which way?” said Terry, easing the ambulance towards the boat landing exit.

“Take a right on Pine Point,” I said. “It’ll run straight into County Two, then you’ll go left. If I’m right about where we’re going, it’ll be maybe a quarter mile from there.”

“Thanks for not telling Jeff the whole story,” said Terry. “I didn’t want to reach the point of being asked where we’re getting our information. Until we manage to sort out the good guys from the bad guys, I don’t want to get within shouting distance of Halee’s name being brought into this.”

“For what it’s worth, I was thinking the same thing,” I told him.

Terry smiled, shaking his head. “You know, the extent to which we’re on the same page in most situations, without even having to discuss it, is pretty amazing.”

As he signaled left onto County Road Two, a stretch of gravel wider and in better repair than Pine Point Road, I regarded him bitterly.

“Except when it comes to us, right?” I said. Instantly I regretted letting that slip out. I wasn’t even sure what I wanted with Terry, but it seemed at this point we were struggling to even maintain a friendship. And that wasn’t exactly his fault, was it?

Terry shrugged. “Maybe. I’m going to throw out there that you seem extraordinarily allergic to letting anyone get too close, and I am damned if I’m going to chase you down every time you freak out and pull a runner.”

I felt tears sting the back of my eyelids. Hurt and angry, I indicated an upcoming mailbox. “There’s the address George gave us,” I said stiffly. “The field approach should be just past it.”

Terry eased off the gas, letting the rig coast down. He cut hard left so the ambulance was blocking most of the road, then backed into the approach, leaving plenty of room on the right for a second ambulance.

“Any idea where this road George was talking about might be?” he said.

I pointed towards a steep incline in the direction we’d been going.

“There’s what’s left of an old road, with a padlocked chain across the entrance, at the top of that hill,” I said. “Once everything greens up this summer, you won’t even notice it’s there when you’re driving by. I’m not sure, but I think that’s it.”

We fell silent for a few minutes.

“You’re not always so easy to get along with yourself, you know,” I said at last.

The corners of Terry’s mouth quirked upwards. “Think so?”

“It’s impossible to get you to be serious for five minutes,” I said. “And no matter where you are or who you’re with, you always think you’re King Shit of Turd Mountain. I think what worries me the most about you becoming ambulance director is that your head will get even bigger than it already is.”

Terry snorted. “My dear, you needn’t worry. Should it swell any larger, I won’t be able to enter my house.” Then he sobered. “Has it occurred to you that maybe we’re a lost cause? Your refusal to face your demons irritates me, and my narcissistic tendencies annoy you. The combination seems to mostly create friction.”

Before I could formulate a reply, the second ambulance arrived. Nate Hauss was driving, with Scott O’Brien in the shotgun seat. Scott was 25, a gangly man with straw-colored hair that he kept slicked back in a 50s-style duck’s ass cut. He’d attended EMT class with Terry.

“We brought extra hands,” Nate informed us through open windows, after he had backed his rig in next to ours. “Stacy and Jessie are in the back. I figured if it was big enough they wanted two trucks, we might need ’em. Does anyone know what the hell’s going on?”

“Just be ready for anything,” I said.

“Good thinking on bringing extras,” Terry called out.

It was only moments later that a procession of vehicles rounded the bend and came into view. Three police cars, various fire/rescue vehicles including the raggedy old rescue squad ambulance, and half a dozen ATVs. They rolled past us, some of them waving, and ascended the hill that I’d pointed out to Terry.

Spreading out along the edge of the gravel towards the top of the hill, they hastened to get organized. A firefighter carrying a heavy set of boltcutters stepped into the woods, then reappeared a moment later. The big yellow 4×4 Fire Department pickup eased itself into the pine. A firefighter was driving, George Fronse was in the shotgun seat, and two of the deputies were standing in the bed, clinging to the lightbar bolted across the top of the cab. The ATVs followed.

After five minutes that felt more like five years, Fronse’s voice crackled across the airwaves.  “Chief One to all units. Smaller vehicles can follow. It’s rough, so exercise caution, but there’s nothing any of you shouldn’t be able to penetrate. We have the auction pit in sight, and are awaiting the remaining officers before entering the valley.”

A flurry of acknowledgements came in, and one of the Sheriff’s Department cruisers disappeared into the trees, followed by a few other cars and smaller vehicles. The rescue squad ambulance remained parked by the side of the road at the top of the hill.

“Riddle me this,” said Terry, breaking through the tense silence that had fallen between the two of us as we listened to the radio chatter and waited. “Why don’t they replace that old beast with a Suburban or something? Rescue isn’t licensed to transport anyway, so all they need is a vehicle to carry medical supplies. An SUV would go a lot more places than an ambulance will.”

“Some rescue squads have gone over to SUVs,” I said. “Just none of the ones that overlap Bronning’s service area. I don’t see rescue here in town spending that kind of money anytime real soon. They just don’t roll all that often, because we have the EMS service right here.”

Terry pursed his lips and nodded. “Fair point,” he acknowledged.

“Chief One to 304,” George Fronse’s voice crackled on the radio, hailing one of the deputies.

“This is 304,” came the response.

“We’re in sight of the building. The front door is unbarred, and there’s been a lot of foot traffic through here. I’m also seeing what looks like an ATV trail going back into the woods. Someone’s been using this place for something. Is the pit area secured?”

“Copy, we’re secure back here.”

“Chief One to Bronning Medic.”

That meant me. I represented the highest available level of care, and that left me in charge of the EMS team.

“This is Rig Two,” I said into the mic.

“You can move in. The ambulances should make it down the hill all right. Your cold zone is the auction pit. Prep your triage there, and do not proceed beyond that point.”

“Rig Two to Rig One,” I said into the mic as Terry pulled forward onto the gravel, “did you copy that?”

“We copy,” said Nate.

At the crest of the hill, the old road became visible. The foliage was beaten down, crushed by the small parade of vehicles that had passed. Terry eased gently into it, immediately finding himself on a downslope, and doing his best to remain on the existing tire tracks. In the side-view mirror I could see the second truck following at a careful distance, the rescue squad rig bringing up the rear.

The road wound its way deeper into the morass of trees. It was rough, but not rutted or dangerously sloped. It took a full five minutes before the trees began to clear, and up ahead we could see the overgrown, weed-choked remains of an auction pit half the size of a football field. The cattle stand at one end had collapsed in on itself, but the auctioneer’s box still stood. Rusty steel bleachers surrounded the pit on three sides. The two deputies who had brought the cruiser in were waving us around to an opening through which we drove the ambulances into the center of the circle. Perhaps fifty yards beyond the far set of bleachers, a red-brick building stood, with the various rescue vehicles spread out before it.

Terry drove through the pit opening and brought the rig around in a wide arc, coming to a stop facing the exit. Nate did the same, and the rescue ambulance came in last. I recognized the driver of the rescue rig as Brenda Smith. A burley, short-tempered woman with tattooed arms and short hair dyed jet-black, Brenda is the only female on the Bronning fire squad.

As we all got out of our rigs, an ATV approached with a firefighter driving. Brian Severson. “Fronse sent me over here because I’m an EMR,” he said. “Brenda is, too. He said we should do whatever you guys tell us to.”

“All right,” I said, as my temporary command formed a circle with me as the focal point. “I don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with here, and if we’re lucky it’ll turn out to be nothing. I will tell you that we think it might be related to the rash of odd overdose cases we’ve had lately. If you see any of the hallmark symptoms, I’ll be calling on all of you to give the patients your best supportive care until I can get to them, because any effective interventions are outside your scope. If there’s just too many, we’ll get intercepts coming and hit the road. The first truck to go will roll for Melville, but if they don’t have ALS rigs left to intercept with you, choose the next closest facility that still does.”

I thought fast for a moment, trying to anticipate all possible contingencies. I was grateful for the fifty-five degree weather. It wasn’t exactly balmy, but it was warm enough that I wouldn’t have to worry too much about exposure.

“We also need to keep in mind that we have an unknown situation developing ahead,” I went on. “Brian, am I correct in assuming that the Chief is going to have fire hang back while PD secures the building?”

“That’s right,” said Brian.

“We have no idea what they’ll be walking into,” I said, “and we may end up with traumatic injuries to deal with. If there’s more than a handful, we’ll have to set up triage.”

I glanced around the little group, wondering who to choose for this most painful of tasks. The answer, when I arrived at it, was obvious.

“If it comes to that,” I said, “Terry is triage officer.”

“Why him?” said Nate. He looked Terry in the eye. “No disrespect, but those are our families sticking their necks out over there. Not yours.”

Terry started to say something, but I cut him off. “That’s why I picked him,” I said, deliberately putting an edge into my voice. “Do you really want to look at people you’ve known your whole life and decide who we’re not going to treat, Nate? I’m probably the only person here who’s ever had to do triage, and it’s bad enough when it isn’t people you know. Terry’s got the job, and that’s final.”

Nate’s jaw hardened, but he held his peace.

“Terry,” I said, “if it turns out there’s more patients than we can handle, I’m also going to have you serve as transport officer… it goes hand in hand with triage. You’ll get in touch with the hospitals and EMS services, determine who has how many trucks and ED beds, and decide which trucks go to which facilities. Also keep in mind the location of definitive care. For example, if we have a burn victim, you’ll want to get them moving south, because that’s the direction of the nearest burn center. Probably to Johnstown for stabilization, and then they’d transfer from there. Also keep helicopters in mind as an option, but it looks like we have some rain coming in, so they might no-go.”

Terry nodded. “Got it.”

“Brenda,” I said, turning my attention to the firefighter, “does the rescue rig still have that old manual cot in it?”

“It’s there,” said Brenda, “but it doesn’t work. The legs won’t extend.”

“Who cares? Make sure it’s clear, and the bench seat too. We can at least lay a couple of patients in there and have heat blowing on them.”

What I didn’t say was that if there were too many patients and it came to it, I’d put one of the EMTs in the back of that truck with an EMR driver, send it on its way to the hospital, and deal with any repercussions later.

“One last thing,” I said. “If shit does get real, remember where your place is. No matter what’s happening out there, we stay here. Patients get brought to us; we do not go to them. If any one of you gets hurt, that both costs us a provider and gives us an extra patient. We stay put no matter what. If the cops tell us to retreat, we leave, no questions asked.”

I looked around the group. Their faces were mostly scared and pale. Even for the more seasoned EMTs like Nate, this sort of situation was miles beyond the experience of a small-town volunteer.

I forced a smile. “Of course,” I added, “more than likely there’ll be a minor dustup, nobody will get hurt, and I’ll buy everybody a drink this evening. You can all have a good laugh at my expense. Now if there are no questions, get your rigs set up. Have airway adjuncts out and on the bench, and make sure your trauma supplies are easily accessible. Terry, you’ll want to go through your triage kit. Let’s go.”

I rapidly handed out truck assignments, and everybody split off towards their respective rigs. Nate caught my arm. “Look,” he said in hushed tones, “about Wilder being both triage and transport officer…”

“No arguments, Nate,” I said, cutting him off. “I’m sorry you’re not happy, but…”

“It’s not for the reason you think,” said Nate. “I’ve got my problems with Terry, but that’s not what this is about. The thing is, he’s the best EMT out here, except maybe for me. Making him transport officer basically means he’s not doing patient care, and if this gets bad we’re going to need him.”

“All the on-scene care will be for nothing if we don’t get people where they can be helped,” I said. “I don’t trust Stacy, Jessie, or Scott to keep it all straight. It’s Terry or you. You’re both good EMTs, but you’ve got experience on him. That might just make a difference in keeping people alive, so I want you on patient care no matter what.”

Nate thought about that for a moment, gave me a respectful nod, and trotted off for his rig.

Minutes later we were huddled in our ambulances, waiting and listening to the radio chatter as the cops closed in on the old building. The police had been joined by Fronse’s one underling on the Bronning force, a part-time cop named Wes Hamilton. Wes had been in Melville when George got in touch with him, and drove back as fast as his Chevy Malibu could be pushed.

Nate and Brian had wanted to be outside, where they could at least try to see what was happening, but I nixed the idea. It was safer in the ambulances, and I didn’t want them already chilled if they ended up having to do any patient care outdoors.

I’d split my forces into three crews. The rescue ambulance had Brian Severson and Scott O’Brian; an EMR and an EMT. The lowest-acuity patients would go there. If the rig ended up having to transport, there would be an EMT to take the back, and an EMR to drive. Rig One would consist of Nate Hauss, Terry Wilder, and Brenda Smith. With Brenda driving that put the two best EMTs in the back, making for the most effective possible BLS truck if there were more high-acuity patients than I could handle. Rig Two would be Stacy Logan, Jessie Kramer and me. Jessie was inexperienced, and Stacy was, as Terry had once memorably proclaimed, a twit… but either of them would make an acceptable assistant for me while the other drove.

I could see Terry in the shotgun seat of the other ambulance, talking into his phone. I guessed he was preemptively checking status with emergency departments and EMS services, and possibly flight. Smart lad.

PD was in the building now. They reported that the place had been cleaned, tables had been set up, and there was portable light and heat equipment in several rooms. But nobody was there. The quiet radio chatter as they cleared one room after another did nothing for my nerves.

Suddenly Wes Hamilton’s voice crackled through on the radio, low and tense. “Bronning PD Two to Chief One.”

“Go for Chief.” George.

“We’ve got seven kids in here, boss. Last room at the end of the east hallway. Teenagers; three girls and four boys. They’re tied up, hands and feet both, and they’re not very responsive. I think they’re all breathing, but there’s something wrong with them. We’ve gotta get ‘em out of here.”

I tensed. Sitting next to me in the shotgun seat, Stacy Logan bit her lip. I could hear Jessie shifting around in the back.

The radio crackled. “Anything else in the room?” George wanted to know.

“Affirmative. There’s some crates stacked against the wall, a big pile of something under a tarp, and a bunch of different colored pressure cylinders. What about the kids, Chief?”

“We’re on it,” said Fronse. “We just cleared the last room on the ground floor. I’m posting a guard at the basement stairway, and we’ll get the kids out before we go down there. Fire, please bring the pickup and the Rangers to the main door. We’ll lay as many in the back of the pickup as we can fit, put the rest in the Rangers, and haul them over to the EMS cold zone. Come in with soft cots, backboards, and plenty of bodies. Let’s not drop these kids getting them outside.”

I picked up the mic. “Medic to Chief One.”

“Go for Chief.”

“Let’s make sure everyone is keeping an eye on the kids‘ airways. If somebody doesn’t look like they’re breathing well, try repositioning. Make sure the airways are clear. If you can, transport them lying on their sides. If you’re not sure if someone is breathing, check for a carotid pulse.”

“Copy that,” said Fronse. “Folks, you heard the lady. Let’s get everybody out of there alive. Fire, go ahead and move in.”

Terry’s voice issued forth from the radio. “Bronning ambulance to Franklin County.”

“Go ahead, Bronning.”

“We are about to receive seven high-acuity patients; teenagers with an altered level of consciousness. Cause unknown at this time, but we only have one ALS crew. I need five ALS ambulances paged; two from Johnstown, and one each from Jordan, Melville and Perry. Some will be intercepting, and some might have to come all the way to the scene. Can you give me a separate county channel to coordinate with them on?”

“Copy that, Bronning. Take FC4 to coordinate with ALS crews. Did you want us to check the status of flight?”

“Negative; I’ve already checked,” said Terry. “Both Lifelink and North are a no-go for weather.”

“Copy that, Bronning.”

As I listened to the flurry of ambulances being paged out to our location, I couldn’t help but be impressed by how well Terry had the transport situation under control. He really would make a great director.

“Bronning ambulance Rig One to Rig Two,” said Terry.

“Go for Rig Two,” I replied.

“Can you handle two patients if it turns out to be the recent overdose symptoms?”

“Affirmative.”

“Are we considering the Rescue rig as a transporting unit if push comes to shove?”

You read my mind. “Affirmative. They have a licensed EMT in the back; that’ll have to be good enough.”

“Copy that,” said Terry. “You’ll roll for Melville with two. I’m having the rig from Melville come all the way to the scene because their travel time is a little less than the others, and Rig One will roll with one patient towards Johnstown for an intercept with Thormleton. I’m reserving options on the Rescue rig and remaining ALS rigs until we get a look at the patients. I’m thinking I should remain on scene and direct traffic.”

“Copy,” I said. “Remain on scene. You’re doing great, Terry–”

A tremendous thunderclap rang out through the valley. Even in the vehicles, we felt the vibrations as the ground shook. Jessie let out a small yelp from the back, and Stacy’s eyes went wide.

“What the hell?” she said.

“Chief One to all units still inside the building, say your status!” Fronse’s voice barked out over the radio.

“Chief, this is PD Two,” a choked, gasping voice came back. “We have casualties in here. D-don’t know how bad. There’s a lot of smoke and dust, and I can’t see much. I – I’m hurt, Chief, can’t move my leg…”

“We’ll have people coming in for you,” said Fronse. “Anybody inside who can walk, get out of there now! We’ll send fresh teams in to extract the wounded. Chief One to Bronning Medic, we’ve had an explosion in the building. Four of the kids were still inside, along with two officers and eight firefighters. The kids we extracted appear to be coming around, so we’re going to wait until we have more people out to send them your way. Stand by.”

“We copy, Chief,” I said. “Standing by.” I switched channels on my portable. “Bronning Medic to EMS team.”

“Rig One,” Nate responded.

“Rescue,” said Scott.

“Sounds like we’ve got some trauma coming our way. As they show up, the triage officer will evaluate them before they’re unloaded from whatever they’re being transported in. His decisions on treatment priority are final. Everybody stay in your rigs until the first casualties arrive. Any last-minute questions?”

“Rig One copies, no questions,” said Nate.

“Rescue, no questions.”

I worked to keep my outward demeanor calm, and I think I was successful, but my guts were in knots. My father was amongst the firefighters who had approached the building.

We didn’t have long to wait. Barely a few minutes went by before the yellow pickup barreled through the entrance to the pit, jouncing on its stiff suspension. Two Ranger ATVs followed. I could see people sitting up in the back of the Rangers. I popped the door of the rig and slid to the ground, noting as I did that the remainder of my staff were piling out of their trucks as well.

“Go time, people!” I called out, as the pickup swung around behind the ambulances and shuddered to a halt. “Triage officer out front!”

Terry was already moving, approaching the back of the pickup at a fast walk. A firefighter perched in the bed of the pickup hopped over the side and lowered the tailgate.

“Can I have everyone’s attention,” Terry bellowed as he reached the tailgate. “Any injured people who can walk, go around to the passenger side of the pickup and hold tight. We’ll get to you as soon as we can.” Catching Jessie Kramer’s arm, he pressed a bundle of green armbands into her palm. “Give these to the walking wounded so we know who they are.”

The injured in the Rangers got out, then made their way around to the side of the truck. Some were limping, others were clutching their arms, and I could see signs of minor bleeding. Jessie gave the handful of tags to one of the men there, along with a few words of instruction. The man passed the tags around, and the walking wounded began wrapping them around each other’s arms. The Ranger drivers pulled away, headed back for the old brick building to collect more wounded.

I turned my attention to the pickup, where all of the critical cases appeared to be. A number of bodies were in the back, some strapped to longboards, others with soft stretchers beneath them. Terry and two firefighters were standing in my way, so I couldn’t get a good count or identify any of the people there.

The firefighters pulled one of the victims from the pickup bed and onto the tailgate, where Terry had placed his triage kit. Nate tried to press forward, but I placed a restraining hand on his arm. The man on the tailgate was conscious. Terry spoke briefly to him in a low voice as he quickly examined a wound on the left leg. He wrapped a yellow tag around the wrist, indicating an injury that was serious but not immediately life-threatening.

“Rescue rig,” he said briskly, and two firefighters closed in along with the Rescue rig’s crew. The four of them picked up the backboard where the man lay and carried it off toward the ancient rescue ambulance. Another was moved to the tailgate. It was Del Williams, the firefighter who had driven the ambulance on the Jason Bixley call. He was bleeding profusely from an arm wound, and seemed to be unresponsive. Terry shoved a tourniquet at Brian Severson, who was standing by his side, and vigorously rubbed the sternum. Del stirred a little and opened his eyes. As Brian tightened the tourniquet, Terry wrapped a red tag around the arm.

“Rig One,” he said. Nate stepped forward, and Terry put a hand on his arm.

“Take this one to Melville,” said Terry. “There’s an intercept coming from there, but if he’s stable don’t use it. We’re going to need more trucks than we have.” Nate nodded once, took up one of the longboard handles, and with the help of Brian and two others bore the man away. Stacy stepped forward to take Brian’s place as Terry’s assistant.

The next victim was pulled back to the tailgate, and my heart froze in my chest. The man on the soft stretcher was my father. Most of his shirt was in tatters, angry burns swathed his chest, and his face had taken on a waxy, grayish hue. Terry placed two fingers on the neck, feeling around for a carotid pulse as he bent his ear close to the mouth, listening for breathing. Casting a quick, pained glance back at me, he wrapped a black tag around the arm.

“Black,” he said.

It hit me like a punch to the gut. No. No. NO.

“Wait,” Stacy said urgently, turning back to look at me. “Nettie… they said all these people were breathing when they pulled them out. There might be time…”

My vision swam. It was an effort to think. Daddy! my mind screamed. It took every ounce of discipline I possessed to push it aside.

“Black, goddammit!” I shouted.

Gentle hands lifted my father from the tailgate, laying him in the grass off to the side even as the next victim was brought forward.

As he assessed the next patient, Terry spoke sidelong to Stacy. “Get off my triage,” he told her, his voice ice-cold. Stacy stumbled back, looking hurt and offended. Terry was wrapping a red band around an arm.

“Hey, Terry,” Nate was calling from the back of his rig. “Del’s awake, and his BP’s solid. I could take one more if it’s non-critical.”

“Stand by, then,” Terry called back. “Rig two,” he told the attendant firefighters, indicating the patient in front of him. I blinked in surprise; the young lady in question was none other than Samantha Jensen, who I’d almost lost on that hellish ride to Melville. My jaw clenched. Goddamn it, girl… wasn’t one bad trip enough for you? One of the firefighters was holding pressure on her abdomen with a big dressing, which was thoroughly saturated with blood. Terry turned toward me.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, and I’m seeing signs of smoke inhalation, Nettie,” he said. “She needs to go ALS, and she needs to go now. Can you do this?”

My eyes narrowed. I hated the look of pity on his face.

“Stacy, Jessie, let’s go,” I snapped. “Stacy, you’re driving.”

“Roll for Johnstown,” Terry called after us.

As I entered through the side door of my rig, I caught a glimpse of the Rangers swinging back through the entrance to the auction pit, more victims sprawled in the back. I turned my eyes away, not wanting to see who was in those Rangers. I thought that if I had to look at one more person I knew who’d been fucked up, I would scream. I slammed the door, then dropped heavily onto the bench seat.

On to Chapter Eleven!

By C. Cat

Amanda spent the morning with Miss Cindy while the movers delivered the last of her things. They mostly worked on administrative issues and final plans for the new year, but also took the time to enjoy a heated fuck on the office sofa. Afterward they nestled naked on the thick carpet, where Miss Cindy insisted on hearing every detail of Amanda’s night of sexual abandon with Jordan.

Once they were dressed Amanda felt a bit light-headed, and her pussy was still tingling, but she was still very anxious to get back to Fairy House and see her girls.

***

“Mommy Amanda! You’re back!” Annie yelped when Amanda made her entrance. The eight-year-old ran to get a hug from her beloved house mother.

“Ooooh, I missed my little muffin!” Amanda said as she took the child in her arms, “I hope you’ve been a good girl.”

“I’ve been very good. Ask Clair… I always do what she asks me!”

Clair was just twelve herself, but had a special fondness for the younger girls who clearly appreciated her special methods of babysitting… which often involved baby oil and as few clothes as possible.

“Then you should come to my room tonight and get a special reward,” She kissed the girl on the lips while giving her bottom a squeeze. “But you’d better be careful… I might gobble you up!” Annie burst into a fit of giggles as Amanda nibbled her neck.

With one final kiss, she finally put the girl down. “So, what are you planning to do today?”

“Katie an’ Rayne asked Willow and me to dance with them at a picnic in the gardens, an’ maybe go to the old cottage after that to play!”

Amanda smiled, pleased to see how the little one was really starting to come out of her shell. When she’d first met Annie, the child was so bashful she hardly spoke. Since then, Amanda had regularly encouraged the eight-year-old to be more outgoing. “That sounds like fun, but you’d better run along and get ready. We don’t want to keep our guests waiting!” She gave Annie a playful spank on her bottom as the girl left the room, squealing with laughter.

Several hours later, Amanda was just finishing up some paperwork when she heard a knock on her door frame. Ten-year-old Willow, a coltish little girl with long red hair, charming freckles, and a cute little button nose stood in the entrance.

“You know you don’t need to knock if my door is open…” Amanda began, but immediately went quiet as she saw the urgent expression on the girl’s face.

“I’m sorry, Mummy Amanda,” Willow said, “We found a sprite down in the woods. She’s really scared and, and crying. I think something bad happened to her. We’re taking her to the cottage… Katie, Rayne, and Annie are with her now. Can you come?”

At Latchmore, children did sometimes get lost on the grounds, usually a case of little girls getting distracted and wandering off. Usually, they were found and reunited with their families within a matter of minutes. “Sprites,” on the other hand, was the fairies’ code word for girls who had run away from home.

Little girls wanting to leave home and join the fairies wasn’t an especially rare occurrence. Most of the time a friendly chat with a fairy or house mother would persuade these youngsters to let themselves be returned to their homes. Still, there were rare cases where the child was escaping an abusive situation, so finding a stray sprite was something everyone at Latchmore took very seriously.

“We were dancing for some guests near the fountains,” Willow said as they hastened toward the cottage, “but we headed back when it began to rain. We went down the path through the enchanted woods to the cottage, to wait there until the rain stopped…”

***

As the girls walked down the trail, Annie thought she heard something over the patter of rain in the trees. She froze, squatted down low, and listened. The other girls instantly followed suit. Listening without being seen was a crucial skill for the fairies to master.

Annie listened even harder. There it was again… and this time, it sounded like weeping.

Just a few metres down the path, there was a patch of giant rhubarb, its huge leaves making something of a cave. Annie peered inside and, in the shadows protected from the rain, there was a little blonde girl of no more than seven or eight, dressed in a makeshift fairy outfit.

Looking up, the girl’s eyes were full of tears, but they went wide with fear when she saw Annie. “P-please, Miss Fairy,” she whimpered, “don’t make me g-go back.”

Annie moved closer to kneel beside the girl as her sisters peered in from the opening. “What’s your name?”

“Maisie,” the girl said between sobs as the other girls gathered around her.

Rayne spoke up. “Don’t be afraid, Maisie. We’ll take care of you. There’s a place near here that’s very safe… will you come with us?”

Annie extended hand and the girl clutched it tightly. She was trembling with fear, but meekly allowed the fairy to lead her down the path.

***

Maisie was still agitated when Amanda arrived at the cottage. She seemed to shrink even smaller at the sight of the woman.

“It’s okay,” Willow said. “Mummy Amanda is a Fairy Mother… you can trust her.”

The girl was still visibly nervous, but her faith in the fairies won out, so she didn’t shy away when Amanda sat down on a stool next to her.

“Annie is right, sweetheart. You’re safe here with us. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

There was anguish and indecision on the girl’s face. She clearly wanted to talk, but was afraid to. “I’m not s’posed to say,” Maisie mumbled, her eyes pleading for help.

Annie knelt beside the shivering girl, taking her hand. “I get scared sometimes, too,” she said, “but Mommy Amanda always makes it better… always.”

Taking her fairy necklace off, she slipped it over Maisie’s head. “This is a special necklace,” Annie said, showing her the charm with its interlocking fairy wings. “Whenever I get scared, I like to hold it and I know I’m safe.”

Maisie nodded. She was still trembling, but clutching the charm seemed to give her confidence. “It’s my mother and her n-new boyfriend,” the girl began, “they… they make me do bad things.”

Amanda thought about sending the other girls away so they wouldn’t have to hear this. No, she decided, it’s not the Latchmore way. This is something young girls need to be aware of. Besides, this poor child needs to be comforted, and I’ll need help with that.

The girl’s story was a woeful one. Maisie described being forced into sex acts against her will, of being bullied into posing naked for pictures and videos, of getting loaned out to the boyfriend’s mates for money. “They take lots of drugs,” she said. “Mummy told Mick that…” her lower lip trembled, “… that I was their ‘cash cow,’ and long as they had me, it would be easy for them to g-get high.” She began to sob again.

Maisie’s account seemed to impact Annie more than the others, but even with tears welling up in her eyes, she wouldn’t leave the sorrowful child’s side. Amanda somehow managed to hold back her own tears, but she felt an immense pride at how brave little Annie was when it was needed.

As the fairies clustered around the young girl, Amanda slipped outside to call Miss Cindy, quickly punching the number into her cell phone.

Even before Miss Cindy spoke, Amanda could hear angry shouts in the background. She couldn’t make out all the words, but one of the voices belonged to a woman who was threatening Miss Cindy with what would happen if they didn’t find and return her daughter.

Oh, my God, Amanda realised. That must be her. Maisie’s mum.

“Amanda?” said Cindy. “Listen, have you seen a lost girl–”

“I have. Can we talk in private?” Amanda quickly replied.

“One moment…” She heard Miss Cindy say to someone else, “Excuse me, I’ve got to take this,” then the office door was shut, muffling the loud voices. “What’s the matter, Amanda?”

“This girl… is her name Maisie?”

“Yes! You’ve found her, then?”

“We have,” Amanda replied, “but we daren’t give her back. She’s suffered serious sexual abuse – and the mother is involved. Her boyfriend as well.”

“Ugh. Can’t say I’m surprised… With all her yelling and threats, not once has she suggested calling the police. That’s never good. I’ve already called Detective Inspector Bennett, though… I’ll ring her back and have her go straight to the cottage. What shape is the girl in?”

“Scared, but healthy and safe – at least for now.”

***

DI Sarah Bennett was a tall and fit woman with a distinct military bearing – far more imposing than pretty, but still attractive. Maybe Amanda had seen too many TV detective programmes, but she expected a policewoman with that kind of demeanour to be competent and professional, but also cold and unemotional. In fact, when speaking to Bennett, Amanda was impressed by the woman’s genuine warmth.

Maisie took to her instantly and under Sarah’s careful query, repeated her story with very little prompting. In spite of the tears welling up in her eyes and her voice cracking, she managed to answer every question, clutching Annie’s necklace tightly all the while.

“What a brave girl you are,” Sarah said with a reassuring smile. “I can’t make the hurt go away, but I’m going to take you someplace where you’ll be safe.”

Maisie threw both arms around the inspector and held her tightly, letting her tears flow until she cried herself to sleep.

***

That evening, DI Bennett had phoned Miss Cindy to confirm that Maisie was safe, the mother and boyfriend were in custody and, from the look of if, more arrests were expected in the coming days.

Amanda was relieved to hear the news, but inside she was torn up. She sat on the corner of the bed, face in her hands, and wept. Whenever she closed her eyes, there was little Maisie’s face, her features etched with suffering. Am I really so different from that girl’s horrid mother?

“Are you okay, Mummy Amanda?” came a little voice from the doorway. Amanda glanced up to see Annie, a look of concern on her sweet brown face.

Sniffing back her tears, she managed a smile. “Yes, sweetie, I’ll be okay. It’s just… thinking about Maisie made me feel sad. I was so proud of you, though,” she added, patting the bed next to her. “The way you helped us take care of her… it really made a difference.”

Annie seated herself next to Amanda, resting against the older woman. “I was sad, too, but then Miss Cindy an’ the police lady said she was gonna be okay.”

Amanda nodded. “Maisie’s out of that awful situation with her mother, but she’s been through a lot. It’s going to be difficult for her… hopefully, not for very long.”

“That’s why I gived her my necklace, Mummy Amanda. It helped me when I was, umm…”

“What, dearest?”

Annie gave a heavy sigh. “Before I came here, bad things happened to me, too. Like what Maisie told us about.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Amanda hugged the little girl, holding her close. “I’m sorry I didn’t know, but that makes what you did today even more brave.”

Annie clung to her. “I’m not so brave… still get scared sometimes…”

“Me too,” Amanda mumbled. “But this is what scares me most.” She paused, then came out with it. “Oh, Annie, my angel, what if I’m hurting girls with – with the things we do here at Latchmore? Could I be just as bad as Maisie’s mum?” Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“No! No, you aren’t!” Annie protested, squeezing her house mother even tighter. “They were mean to me… just wanted what they wanted, an’ it made me hurt! You give me good feelings… and the other girls, too. We know you love us – an’ we love you, too, Mummy Amanda. Lots an’ lots!”

Amanda bent down to kiss Annie’s cheek. “Thank you, Annie… that helps, it really does.”

They sat for a long time, holding each other until Annie spoke in a small voice. “Can I still sleep here tonight? It’s okay if we just cuddle.”

Amanda hugged her young lover again. “Of course, little one… now why don’t you run along and play with the others. I’ll see you when it’s bedtime.”

“Okay!” The girl chirped before springing up and scampering out of the room.

Left alone, Amanda found herself unable to completely shake those dark thoughts.

Finally getting up to carry out the evening rounds, Amanda made a point of spending a few minutes with each of her girls to hear about their day, check that all assigned chores were done, and talk about their plans for the following day before giving them each one a goodnight kiss. She needed to be sure all the girls were accounted for, if not necessarily in their own beds.

Clair had invited Annie’s roommate Ella to have a sleepover in her room, so Amanda was reassured that little Ella wouldn’t be going lonely that evening.

Thank goodness for Clair, Amanda mused. The teen genuinely cared for the younger girls and made a point of looking after them. When a little fairy skinned her knee or needed a shoulder to cry on, Clair was there to wipe the tears away. Everyone assumed she’d be a house mother herself when she came of age.

Moving along to the next room, Amanda was surprised to find Willow in bed with Katie and Rayne, and if the giggles the three girls shared on seeing they’d been “caught” weren’t enough of a clue, Willow’s pink panties on the floor and their flushed cheeks made it obvious what sort of games these fairies had been playing.

While Amanda knew her daughter and Rayne enjoyed the occasional dalliance with other girls, she was also certain that Willow was the first fairy they’d invited to join them both in their lovemaking.

On the other hand, all the girls were eager to enjoy sexy fun with Amanda. “Want to play, Mum?” Katie called, tugging the sheet down to reveal their nakedness.

“We’ve got room for one more!” Rayne exclaimed, placing a hand on her vulva in a parody of modesty that never failed to fire Amanda’s lust – and the adorable eleven-year-old was fully aware of that.

The temptation was there to unhook her dress, let it drop to the floor, climb on the bed and join these luscious nymphs in their fun and games. Forget your worries. Lose yourself in the worship of little girls and their beautiful bodies.

But Amanda was still feeling uneasy about her desires… about herself. Besides, I promised Annie, she thought. “Some other time, okay?” she said. “I’ve got to finish my rounds.” Bending down, she gave each girl a kiss on the cheek, whispered, “Good night,” then made a quiet exit.

One door down, eight-year-old roommates Emma and Lilly were sitting on the floor playing when Amanda looked in. “Shouldn’t you two be in bed?” she teased, pointing at the clock.

“We were waiting for you to take our clothes off!” said Lilly. She and Emma were clearly trying to look as cute as possible in their midriff tops and snug denim shorts.

“Fair enough.” Amanda entered the room. “Arms up!”

Both girls raised their hands high so Amanda could slip their tops up and over their heads, exposing their flat chests. They stood motionless while Amanda unbuttoned Emma’s shorts and tugged them down.

“Oh… what have we here?” Amanda exclaimed in mock surprise as Emma’s bare cunny came into view, “Looks like someone forgot to put on knickers again.”

“Oops!” Emma cried, looking anything but embarrassed.

“Now me!” Lilly yelped between giggles, then she allowed Amanda to tug her shorts down.

“You, too!” Amanda said when she discovered Lilly’s vulva was bare as well. “You both better get in bed before the bottom-spanking monster sees those cute little behinds.” She gave each one a playful pat as they dove into Lilly’s bed, erupting with giggles.

Amanda continued down the corridor. Rachel and her younger girlfriend Aiko were just getting out of the shower when she checked on their room.

“Come see Rachel’s new painting!” Aiko exclaimed with pride when she saw the house mother, making no move to cover her nudity as she pointed to a small painting that rested on a nearby easel.

Amanda moved closer, feeling a warm surge of arousal at the sight of Aiko’s silhouette, clearly done when the child was naked. “Oh, my,” she breathed. Rachel was already a talented artist, but it was still a marvel to see how flawlessly she’d managed to capture the beauty and innocence of her young lover.

“It’s incredible! You did a wonderful job, Rachel. I can tell how much you love Aiko just by looking at it.”

Both girls beamed with pride, then each hugged the woman in turn. Amanda gave them gentle kisses, then continued on her way

Avery and Zoe were already asleep by the time Amanda reached their room. They were both in Zoe’s bed with their bodies intertwined, still glowing from what had clearly been a spirited bout of lovemaking. Amanda paused a moment to take in their bare beauty before drawing the covers up and over them.

Maggie’s room was next, and Amanda was pleased to see that the perky ten-year-old wasn’t left lonely while her roommate Willow spent the night with Rayne and Katie. The little ten-year-old was seated on Naomi’s lap, her pinafore dress pulled up to the waist, knickers dangling from an ankle. Sophia’s face was buried between Maggie’s cocoa-brown legs.

“Want to have some fun with us, Mummy Amanda?” Fourteen-year-old Sophia murmured in her seductive Portuguese accent. The girl’s lips were glistening with Maggie’s nectar.

“Maybe another time, my loves,” she said. Strong as the urge was to drop to her knees and lick that pretty cunt, she was still feeling unsettled by the day’s events.

So instead she gave each girl a goodnight kiss, contenting herself with the flavour on Sophia’s lips.

Annie was waiting when Amanda returned to her room. Perched on the edge of the bed, she wore a short pink cotton nightshirt that showed off her slim legs and, somehow, managed to make her skin look even softer and creamier. A smile crept across her face when she saw Amanda’s eyes roam over her body, but she remained demure, with no hint she wanted more than the promised cuddles.

“Time for bed?” asked Annie.

“Yes, my sweet,” Amanda replied.

Annie pulled back the covers, then slipped beneath them. As she did, Amanda caught a glimpse of the child’s bare bottom and felt a pang of desire. It was familiar and somehow comforting, but she still couldn’t completely shake her worries.

Slipping her own robe off to reveal a yellow silk nightshirt, she slid into bed and wrapped both arms around Annie, who pushed herself back into Amanda, holding the woman’s arms around her. “I like this so much, Mummy,” she whispered. “You make me happy.”

It hadn’t escaped Amanda’s notice that when they were alone together, Annie tended to call her “Mummy.” I wonder if she really thinks of me as a mother? She asked herself. And a lover, too – mustn’t forget that. She planted a soft kiss on the girl’s neck. “I like this too, sweetheart.”

She felt the little girl’s body relax against hers. Somehow, it helped her to relax as well. She gave a deep, satisfying yawn, then mumbled, “I love you, Annie.”

There was no reply… and Amanda realised that the girl had already dozed off.

***

She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but it was still dark outside when Annie’s stirring woke her up. At first Amanda thought the child was dreaming, but the little mewling noises and the distinct scent of female arousal made it clear that she was very much awake.

Without even thinking, Amanda let her hand travel down the girl’s chest.

A soft “Mmm…” escaped Annie’s lips, then: “I – I know we were just gonna cuddle, Mummy… but please, please make love to me. I really want it.”

A child’s small hand took Amanda’s, then guided it to the wetness between her legs.

As Amanda nuzzled Annie’s neck, she let her fingers press against that precious little treasure, stroking the soft warmth of the girl’s inner lips. As Annie trembled under her touch, Amanda felt her own desire build, but with it came the fear she’d been grappling with ever since hearing poor Maisie’s story.

Pushing these thoughts aside, she focused on Annie, letting her fingertips dance across the little girl’s tiny clit. As she stroked and teased the tender button, her eight-year-old lover began to whimper.

A little faster, a little harder, until she felt the child’s body tense. That familiar mewing cry escaped Annie’s lips as she firmly pressed Amanda’s hand against her pudenda. Finally, with a gasp that trailed off into a moan, she relaxed.

“Thanks, Mummy,” said Annie, so quietly she could scarcely be heard. “G’night…”

“Goodnight, sweetie.” Amanda cradled the little girl to her, gently rocking to and fro until they both drifted into a blissful slumber.

***

When Amanda awakened the next morning, the sun was streaming through the window and the smell of the woods perfumed the air. As her eyes opened, she realised she was alone in bed and it was quiet – much too quiet for a house full of young girls. Pulling on a loose top and a pair of shorts, she made her way to the kitchen to find Katie seated at the table.

“Caroline dropped by to give us a special dance seminar, and all the girls are there,” Katie said, answering her mother’s unspoken question. “Annie told us you were having a rough time yesterday, so we decided to let you sleep in.” She gestured toward the counter. “There’s coffee if you want it.”

Amanda took a mug from the cabinet. “Why aren’t you at the seminar?” she asked, pouring the coffee.

“I wanted to be here when you got up, in case you needed to talk to someone.”

“I’m sorry, love, I’ll be okay,” Amanda sighed, sitting next to her daughter. “It’s just… seeing how scared little Maisie was really hit me hard. I can’t keep myself from thinking… what if I end up hurting one of you like that?”

Moving her seat closer, Katie wrapped both arms around her mother. “When I was still going to my old school, I had to pretend to be someone I wasn’t… someone who didn’t like girls. I was afraid the other kids wouldn’t like me if they knew. You helped me with that. You told me I was beautiful the way I am.” She kissed her mother’s neck. “I love you so much, Mum. But I also trust you – and so does every girl in our house. That trust is what holds Latchmore House together.”

Amanda sipped her coffee as she pondered Katie’s words. It was true – so much of the girls’ play was about trust – not only being open about their desires, but relying on their sisters to be honest about what they wanted, or didn’t want. She remembered saying goodnight to the girls mere hours ago, what a fulfilling experience it had been. They’re so happy and loving, with no guilt or shame… that really is what Latchmore house is about.

But the memory of Maisie’s anguished face continued to haunt Amanda. “I know you’re right, Katie. It’s just that I can’t stop thinking… what if I’m not able to trust myself? Or if I go too far with one of the girls? I’m scared I’m not good enough to be a house mother.” She sighed. “I’m thinking that… maybe I shouldn’t make love with you girls anymore.”

Katie hugged her even tighter. “Mum, Mum, Mum… now you’re just being ridiculous. This is about Maisie, isn’t it?” Amanda gave a reluctant nod. “Why would you even think of comparing yourself to that awful mother of hers? A woman who would sell her own child for drugs?” She shuddered. “Mum, you always told me I don’t need to be perfect, long as I do my best. The same goes for you, too, especially here.

“And as for not having sex with us… I don’t think a single one of the fairies would be happy about that. I absolutely wouldn’t.” Katie gently cupped her mum’s breast. “I won’t give you up as a lover, Mum. One way or another, we will fuck again.” Amanda moaned as her daughter scissored a nipple between two fingers. “And there’s Annie. She used to be so quiet and shy… you made her blossom like a flower. Are you really planning to break that little girl’s heart?”

She’s right, Amanda thought. Sometimes it might seem that pushing people away is the best way to protect them, but it’s not the fairy way. That’s when they need their sisters the most. AND their house mothers.

“You know, Katie,” she murmured, returning her daughter’s hug, “you’ve always had the knack for saying what I need to hear… even if you insist on quoting my own words back at me.”

“Oh, I need the practice. Rayne and I want to get married and have a family of our own someday… and we both want to be just like you.”

“Sweetheart, you and Rayne will be incredible mothers.” Gazing into her daughter’s eyes, they shared a soft and gentle kiss that quickly deepened.

Finally Katie broke away, her eyes flashing with desire. “God, Mum… I want to take you back to my room and fuck you silly. But… why don’t you walk me to the dance seminar instead. I happen to know a sweet little girl there who is totally in love with you, and she needs to know you feel the same way about her.”

“Let me put on my shoes,” Amanda said.

As they set off, Katie turned to her mother. “You’re going to tell Miss Caroline today, right? What we talked about?”

“Down, girl,” Amanda laughed. “Yes, I will.”

The teen clapped her hands. “Cool! God, I can’t wait until Friday!” She seized her mum’s hand, gave it a squeeze. “I’m gonna be watching her face when you break the news. Should be interesting…”

When the two arrived at the studio, Caroline Scott was busy leading a room full of lovely young girls in movement exercises. Amanda’s thoughts drifted to a similar sight from just a few months earlier. She still felt the same thrill looking at the girls in their leotards and leggings, but the fear and guilt had gone.

Even better yet, she saw the beaming smile on little Annie’s face when their eyes met. Much as she tried not to play favourites, Katie was right – Annie had a special place in her heart. Not only was she an incredibly sweet girl, she was cute and sexy as could be with her slim body in a light pink leotard, sheer lace skirt, and knit leg warmers that rose up above her knees.

“Miss Caroline,” Katie said as the dance instructor gave the girls a break and came to greet them, “Do you mind if Annie misses the rest of class today? Mummy really needs her.”

“Does she now?” Caroline said with an eyebrow raised and a wink. “I suppose we can get by without her, but you two will both need to come in for extra practice on our routine.” She glanced over at the brown-skinned cutie, who was already bouncing up and down at the sight of her grownup lover. “Tell her we’ll be waiting here while she gets changed.”

“Yes, Miss Caroline,” Katie said before running to tell Annie the news, then joining the other girls.

“And how are you, love?” Caroline reached out for Amanda’s hand as Annie hastened from the room.

“Oh… wonderful, actually. I’ve missed you, though. It’s been too long.”

Caroline laughed. “Well… that’s what I get for getting involved with a woman mere days before she becomes a house mother at Latchmore.” She looked around the room. “A life surrounded by all this sweet, sweet girl candy… Honestly, I can’t imagine how you get anything done.”

Drawing nearer, Amanda murmured, “How’d you like a taste of that candy for yourself?”

Caught off guard, Caroline stared at her occasional lover. “Do tell.”

Amanda glanced about, making sure no one was in earshot before she spoke. “Well, you recall me telling you that Katie and I have… become intimate, yes?”

“Recall? It’s been my favourite masturbation fantasy ever since you told me,” Caroline replied.

“Well, here’s something new for you to jill off about. Katie wants to invite you to our place this Friday for a little get-together. I’m spending that night at home.”

“A threesome? My God, yes, you lovely bitch.”

Amanda shook her head. “A foursome, actually. Katie’s new lover wants to be there, too.”

“New lover…?” Caroline glanced over at the girls. “Would that be the luscious redhead who happens to be holding your daughter’s hand at this moment?”

“That’s Rayne,” Amanda replied. “She and Katie are absolutely smitten with one another. They’re already making wedding plans.”

“Oh, yes, they’re in love… you can see it from a mile away.” Caroline turned back to Amanda. “I accept your kind invitation. What time do the festivities begin?”

“Dinner at seven… then dessert for the rest of the night.”

Caroline snickered. “I’ll be there with bells on.”

“Fine by me. You can leave your knickers at home, though.”

Leaning in to give her lover’s ear a playful nip, the dance instructor whispered, “Funny girl.”

***

Once Amanda and Annie had wandered back through Latchmore to their house, they made their way up to Amanda’s room, where they sat side by side on the bed, holding hands.

“I was very sad yesterday,” Amanda said. “I’m sorry if it made you feel unhappy, sweetheart.”

“That’s okay, Mummy,” the child replied. “I know you were feeling bad. I was just afraid you… you might not want to play with me anymore.” Annie’s expression was sorrowful.

“Oh, love, I wanted to be with you as much as ever,” Amanda said, giving Annie’s hand a squeeze. “It’s just that… see, after Maisie told us about that horrid mum of hers, I got myself tied up in knots. I felt afraid I might hurt you or one of the other girls without meaning to when I was sexually excited. Katie and I had a talk, though, and it helped quite a lot. I still might get scared sometimes… but if I remind myself of how much I love you girls, I should be able to cope with it.”

Annie thought for a bit, then nodded. “Well, when I was scared, you said kisses made it better.” She gave Amanda her sweetest, most innocent smile. “Can we try that?”

Amanda had to laugh. “The other girls said you were smart, but they didn’t warn me you could be sneaky, too.” She took a moment to gaze into Annie’s lovely brown eyes, then moved in for her kiss.

It was soft and gentle at first. Then as their bodies pressed together, the passion of their kiss began to build, and Amanda felt the familiar warmth rising inside. A prickle of fear also made itself known, but she thrust it away, centering her full attention on Annie.

She traced kisses over the girl’s cheeks and down her neck, enjoying the little murmuring noises that Annie made as she relaxed into her grownup lover’s embrace, ready and waiting to be taken further. Slipping the thin top off the child’s shoulders, Amanda moved lower, brushing Annie’s warm, soft skin with her lips.

Glancing up, she saw the hunger in the eight-year-old’s eyes. “Please don’t stop,” Annie whispered.

In reply, Amanda gave Annie’s top another little tug. This time it slipped down far enough to expose the girl’s flat chest. Letting Annie fall back on the bed, the woman showered her upper half with tender kisses, pausing to suck each tiny nipple.

“Mmmm, I like that. Can you take your top off?” Annie asked.

“Of course, my love.” Sitting up, Amanda reached for the hem of her blouse, which she pulled up and off, then tossed to one side. A flick of her bra clasp exposed the woman’s breasts.

“I love your titties,” Annie cooed. “So nice an’ soft…” She ran her hands over them, exploring every curve and contour, then plucking at the swollen nipples. “Can I kiss them?”

“Oh, sweetie… if we’re making love, you don’t have to ask my permission for anything. If you want to kiss my breasts, go right ahead.”

“I will, then!” Annie exclaimed. She buried her face in Amanda’s chest, purring happily as she nuzzled the creamy globes. Seeking out a nipple, she took it into her mouth to suckle.

“My love,” Amanda whispered, cradling the little girl’s face to her.

Abruptly releasing the woman’s nipple, Annie gazed up at Amanda, “Have you ever played with Miss Caroline’s titties? One time when I was touching my cunny, I pretended I was watching you and her do sex stuff… is it okay if I do that?”

“Mmmm, of course it’s okay,” Amanda moaned. “And yes, sweetie… I have touched her titties, and all the rest of her, too. I bet she’d love to join us in bed some time.”

I’d like that!” Annie said, her hands still busy fondling her house mother’s breasts. “She has nice big ones, but I think yours are my favourites. I want mine to look like these.”

Eager to see more of her young lover, Amanda slipped the girl’s top off completely, baring her slim waist and flat stomach. “Yours are going to be beautiful… just like the rest of you.” She kissed the tip of Annie’s nose. “Like you are now.”

“Do you ever, y’know… think sexy things about me? Like I do about you?”

“Maybe…” Amanda said slyly. “Last night, I might’ve thought about watching a certain brown-eyed cutie go down on her roommate.”

Annie shivered. “Ooohhh! Ella would really like that, letting you watch us… Willow and Maggie would too, I bet. Maybe you could watch us all do sex at the same time!”

“It sounds like there’s a lot for us to try, doesn’t it? Maybe we need to start a list. You know, Caroline asked me how on earth I ever got any sleep, being the house mother to all you sexy little girls… I’m starting to wonder about that myself!”

Annie giggled as Amanda trailed kisses down her body, all the while caressing the child everywhere she could reach. Annie’s shorts were in the way, however. Taking hold of the waistband, Ananda slid them down, past the girl’s firm, round bottom, then took them off completely, her heart skipping a beat when she saw that Annie wasn’t wearing knickers.

“Surprise!” Annie squealed. “I took them off after dance practice. Did I do good?”

“Very good,” murmured Amanda.

The sight of a girl’s intimate flower never seemed to get old for her. It always felt like she was seeing it for the first time. Brown on the outside, pink on the inside, it resembled a rich, exotic dessert. Amanda reached out to touch the bare slit, pleased to find it moist with the dew of arousal. Drawing closer, she breathed in, sighing with pleasure at the familiar aroma. She filled her nostrils once more, basking in the moment for a few heartbeats before moving in for a kiss.

“Ohhh!” Annie gasped as Amanda’s lips grazed her sex. “That’s s-so nice!”

Sliding her hands under Annie’s bottom, Amanda held the girl in place while she licked and sucked at the beautiful brown and pink cleft in a frenzy of lust. There would be time enough for slow, gentle lovemaking in the days to come, but in this moment she needed to feed her hunger without restraint.

Annie wrapped her legs around Amanda’s neck, winding her fingers into the woman’s hair as she felt those good feelings grow inside her, getting closer, closer still, nearly there…

“Yes, Mummy! Yes!” Annie cried, trembling from head to toe.

Knowing her little lover was on the verge of release, Amanda sought out the button of Annie’s clitoris with her index finger while she continued to lick that juicy cunt. The lower half of her face was dripping with the child’s juices, overwhelming her senses with its intoxicating flavour and scent.

With one last guttural cry, Annie let go, nearly passing out as she rode the feeling of rapture to the edge and beyond. Finally, she went completely limp. Stretching out alongside the panting child, Amanda took Annie into her arms.

Any lover could be forgiven for needing a rest after such an intense climax, but Annie was too eager for more to relax for very long. Once she’d regained her breath, the girl popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “My turn, Mummy!” she exclaimed.

Rolling Amanda onto her back, Annie worked hard to get the woman’s shorts and panties down and off. That accomplished, the child pushed her grownup lover’s legs apart, then flopped down on her tummy between them.

“I love your pussy, Mummy,” she said as she stroked the outer lips. “It’s the prettiest one I’ve ever seen.”

Amanda looked down to see Annie give her a big toothy smile before lowering her head to gently lick the length of her slit. “Mmmm… you’re yummy, too,” she added, licking her lips before lowering her head for another taste.

Tiny jolts of pleasure coursed through Amanda’s body as the girl’s tongue poked and prodded, delved and thrust, Annie spreading her lips open and swirling her tongue around inside her, then gently teasing the clit while sliding three fingers deep inside. Amanda kicked her shorts away from the left ankle, then twined her legs around the girl.

For a girl so young, Annie was a prodigy at the art of lovemaking. Each new touch sent a wave of ecstasy flowing deep into her core.

“Ohhhhh!” she cried out. “That’s right! Lick Mummy, j-just like that! Fuck! Oh, girl, you’re amazing.”

Through Amanda’s cries, it was the word “Mummy” that stood out most to Annie. She adored this lovely, sweet, caring woman, and wanted to think of her as the mother she’d longed for but never had. Show how much you love her, the child told herself. Give her all the best feelings. She burrowed even further between Amanda’s thighs, her tongue working feverishly on the woman’s clit.

“Fuck, yes!” Amanda wailed as the intensifying waves built inside, lifting her to the height of euphoria. “Oh, Annie! Oh, my love!” She clenched her legs together and, with one last look at the eager little girl nestled between her legs, let herself go.

Annie felt the woman’s tension and release, the juices flowing from her spasming cunt, but she kept licking until Amanda pushed her head away, pleading, “No more, sweetie.”

As the sounds of the afternoon drifted through the open window, Amanda and Annie lay together for a long, blissful while, sharing sleepy kisses every now and then.

***

About eight months had passed since Amanda became a house mother for Latchmore, and Katie joined the fairies. Mum and daughter agreed – this truly was where they belonged. There were all the ups and downs that could be expected in a house full of girls, but they loved practically every minute of it.

Amanda had grown close to all her girls and shared a bed with each of them more than once, but what she shared with Annie would always be special. Far from feeling jealousy, the other girls were happy for them both. For Annie’s ninth birthday, the occupants of Amanda’s house arranged with Miss Cindy to send the two of them on a weekend getaway to a little bed and breakfast by the sea, run by a former fairy and her wife.

Thoughts of Maisie continued to cross Amanda’s mind, so it was an enormous relief to learn the girl was safe in a foster home. And she was positively ecstatic some months later at the news that Maisie had been adopted by a lesbian couple. Knowing Miss Cindy had used her influence and connections to help get the child settled, it wasn’t much of a surprise to hear that Latchmore was to host a celebration for Maisie and her new mommies.

The weather would be perfect, so the fairies pitched in to prepare the meadow for the event. There were pretty decorations, a sumptuous meal, all kinds of treats, and plenty of space to dance and play games.

On the day of celebration, Amanda was waiting with the girls of her house, hand in hand with Annie. Her daughter Katie was nearby, along with her lover Rayne. It was a private gathering, but a few special guests had been invited – including Caroline and Jordan, who had met, fallen in love and moved in together. They were planning to marry once Jordan graduated from university, but still managed to occasionally share their bed with Amanda, her daughter and a few of the Latchmore girls.

Just as the old clock struck noon, the guest of honour arrived.

“Maisie!” Annie yelped when she saw the little blonde girl.

“Annie!” the girl squealed, her eyes wide with excitement as they came together in a hug. She recognized Katie, Rayne, and Willow as well, and was happy to meet all the other girls, but it was clear that Annie would always be her special fairy.

Amanda let the girls finish exchanging greetings, then knelt before Maisie. Far from the scared little waif she remembered, this child was a beauty with a beaming smile, looking like a princess in her party dress with Annie’s fairy necklace round her neck.

“Do you remember me, sweetie?” Amanda asked.

“Yes, Mommy Amanda!“ she exclaimed. “Thank you so much… for, for everything!” Amanda felt tears well up in her eyes as the little girl threw both arms around her.

“This is Maisie’s new mummy Sasha,” Miss Cindy said as Amanda stood and wiped her eyes, “and I think you’ve met her other mum before. Her name is Emily.”

Even after all this time, the resemblance was unmistakable. Amanda was struck speechless as she gazed into the eyes of her own fairy – the one who had made love to her when she was a little girl of nine on her very first visit to Latchmore, nearly twenty-five years ago.

A sob escaped Amanda’s throat as she opened her arms, and the two women met in a loving embrace.

“Thank you, Emily,” Amanda whispered. “You gave me a precious gift… one that changed my life for the better.” Pulling away, she added, “I can’t believe it’s possible, but you’re even more beautiful now.” Turning to Emily’s wife, she took Sasha’s hand. “Congratulations… you’ve got an incredible wife.”

“I know,” Sasha replied. She was tall and willowy, with curly brunette hair and glasses. “And now we’ve got an extraordinary little girl.” She bent down to hug Maisie, and their lips met in a brief but impassioned kiss.

Amanda felt warm all over at the sight. “Oh, my…”

Emily placed a hand on Amanda’s arm. “We were just talking about Maisie’s schooling for next term… and all three of us agree that the best place for her by far would be Latchmore.”

“I never had the chance to be a fairy,” Sasha murmured, glancing around the meadow, smiling at the pretty girls, “and I regret it now. It makes me want that for Maisie all the more.”

“And with you as the house mother, I was hoping she might stay at Fairy House,“ Emily said. “We think it would be the perfect place for a girl like her.” She smiled. “Believe me, she’ll fit in perfectly.”

Annie’s eyes went wide when she realised what the adults were getting at. “Ooooh, yes! Please, Mommy Amanda, can Maisie be a fairy?”

Amanda looked at Miss Cindy, wondering if she’d somehow managed to arrange this.

“I may have helped get Sasha and Emily selected as her foster parents…” Cindy answered without being asked, “but the rest happened on its own.” She laughed. “What can I say? Far be it for me to question fairy magic!”

The End

Afterword from C. Cat: As a fan of this site first-and-foremost, My favorite stories have been the ones that blur the line between fantasies and what might be true. I’d often find myself thinking about what else could happen in those particular worlds. This story was one of those “what-ifs” inspired by a story I read here along with a visit to a particular garden. Because of that, I always thought of Latchmore as a place where other stories could play out too. I have at least one more story to tell about the place, but I’m sure there are others — whether I tell them or not.

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.

For a more detailed breakdown of the first eight chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

by Rachael Yukey

“Goddamn it, I told you not to trust that bastard.” George Fronse’s face was red. I regarded him coolly from my seat at the opposite side of his desk.

I’d awoken from that same stupid fucking dream at around three AM, just barely stifling a scream. Halee, sleeping beside me, had stirred but not awoken. I’d managed to get to the living room before dissolving into tears, and had stayed up until it was time to awaken Halee. I made her breakfast while she showered, and then we made out a little, leaving us both a bit breathless as she departed for school.

After she left, I lay down on the couch and promptly slipped into a restless slumber, only to be thrown out of it by a phone call from George an hour later, asking if I could come right down to his office. And this was how he opened?

“Which bastard did you have in mind?” I said, carefully keeping my voice neutral.

“You know exactly who I mean. Look, the first person you blab to about this is Terry Wilder, and then what happens… one more case just a few hours later, and it all dries up. Not a single case all weekend.”

I put on a shocked expression, clapping both hands to my cheeks. “Oh, no. We went two whole days without any kids going into unexplained, life-threatening distributive shock. Tragic, I tell you.”

George’s face got even redder, a feat I would not have sworn was possible. “Dammit, Nettie, I don’t want more kids getting sick either, but if somebody’s behind this and you just drove them into hiding, we might have lost our chance to catch them.”

By this time, I was pretty sure my own face was getting a little red. “And if you don’t chill out, I’m going to leave. I don’t have to sit here and listen to this.”

George’s eyes widened. He clearly wasn’t used to people telling him what they did or didn’t have to listen to.

“Besides,” I said, “you know as well as I do how supplies work for the better class of street drugs. Out here you only get enough supply for maybe a week or two, everyone goes nuts and ODs on it, and then it’s over for awhile.” It struck me that I’d just had this exact same conversation with Terry the evening before.

“Even if you’re right,” I went on, “and we tipped somebody off, it’s one hell of a leap blaming Terry. I talked to five hospitals, six ambulance services, and the county Sheriff’s department. The Sheriff’s people would have talked to every city police department in the county, and probably the Sheriff’s departments in the neighboring counties. Hundreds of people got clued in on Friday.”

George’s face was still red, every muscle in his jaw tight. “Nettie, I know he’s your boyfriend, or whatever you two are calling it at the moment, but you can’t tell me you don’t have questions. I checked him out when he moved to town, you know. Has he told you that his ex-wife has been to prison on drug trafficking charges and an attempted homicide, and is barred from seeing the kids unsupervised? That she hasn’t seen the kids in over four years? And then there’s his career… best-selling novels, and major film producers fight over the chance to work with him. He gave that all up, and for what? Bronning? The guy is worth a fortune, makes over half a million a year in royalties, but he’s living in a house that’s like a hundred and fifty years old and drives either that old shitkicker pickup, or a Chevy crossover if he’s got his kids along. It doesn’t make sense, Nettie. Nothing about him makes sense.”

George’s words came out in a rapid-fire rush, leaving me with the feeling that he’d been dying to say this to somebody for a good long time.

“George,” I said, trying for a conciliatory tone, “are you listening to yourself? Terry’s barely been in town for four years, he’s already the single most active ambulance volunteer we have, and you’re practically accusing him of being a drug kingpin.” I ran a tired hand across my face.

“Look, even if you’re right, it wouldn’t have mattered. He’s on the damn ambulance squad; there’s no way I could have gotten the word out without him hearing about it.”

He was fiddling with a pencil. “Maybe getting the word out at all was a mistake.”

I folded my hands in my lap, leaned back, and stared at him for a long moment. “Please tell me you’re kidding. This is crazy dangerous stuff, George. I almost lost Samantha Jensen. And you’re telling me I should have kept it to myself? What the fuck?”

“A lot more people will be at risk if whoever’s behind this isn’t caught.”

I sighed. “If there’s even anybody behind it. Did you just call me here to throw accusations around, or was there something you needed?”

George opened his mouth, closed it again, and rapped his knuckles on the desk a few times. Holy crap, he’s totally on edge.

“Look,” he said at last, “you did a really good job of putting some clues together and coming to a conclusion last week. I was wondering if you’ve seen or heard anything since then that we can add to it.”

I had, of course, but I was damned at this point if I’d to breathe a word to George about the place Halee called the locker. “Nothing comes to mind,” I said. “Anything else?”

“If you do think of anything, I’d appreciate it if you come to me and no one else.”

“I can’t promise that.” I pushed myself out of the chair. “You can play cloak and dagger games if you want, but my patients come first.”

George reddened again. “On your own head be it. At least clue me in as soon as possible.”

I shrugged, turned on my heel, and left the office.

Zipping my coat as I stepped out into the chill morning air, I tried to still the turmoil in my mind. I set off for my apartment building, doubt and indecision swirling through me like a cyclone. Reviewing what I knew about Terry, I reluctantly acknowledged there were huge gaps. Outside of generalizations about his work, Terry never talked about the past. I don’t even know where he grew up.

It wasn’t exactly news to me that Terry was loaded. Neither his house nor his vehicles were new, but there were telltale clues like the expensive booze, the jacuzzi in the big bathroom, and his kids getting the best of everything. I hadn’t known about the royalty income, but it explained a lot; not even Terry’s kids seemed clear on what he did for money. So what DOES he do for hours on end in his office?

I realized with a start that my apartment building was less than a block away; in my musings I’d lost all sense of space and time. I shook my head to clear it.

“Nettie!” a voice called out. “Hey, Nettie!”

Looking to my left, I saw Lori Henderson in her yard, setting potted plants out in the sun. Lori, a heavyset divorced woman with graying hair and four children, is second only to Terry when it comes to putting in on-call volunteer hours for Bronning Ambulance.

Right then, I would have preferred to be left alone, but I diverted course, crossing the street and stepping gingerly into the slowly greening grass of Lori’s sizable yard. Out here at the edge of town, the houses are spread pretty far apart.

“Hi Lori,” I said. “What’s up?”

“Can you believe Robbie’s retiring?”

I shrugged. “It had to happen sooner or later.”

“Well, sure.” Lori extracted some more pots from her tray of plants. “But I think we all expected a little more notice.”

Saying nothing, I grabbed a couple of the pots and placed them in the sun next to the others Lori had already laid out.

“Thanks, dear, but you don’t have to do that,” said Lori. “I just wanted to talk to you about picks for the new ambulance director. I’m on the committee for that, you know.”

I continued transferring pots from the tray to the grass. “Honestly, I haven’t thought much about it, Lori. I think everyone always assumed that it’d eventually be either you or Nate.”

Lori gave a high-pitched little laugh. “Honey, I’m raising four kids by myself, I work forty hours a week, and I’m on the city council. I don’t have near enough time. As for Nate, he doesn’t want the job. I’m guessing you don’t, either, or you’d have spoken up by now.” She paused. “We were thinking about talking to Terry Wilder.”

I blinked in surprise. “Terry?”

“Think about it, dear. Robbie’s been the director for going on thirty years. No matter who we get, the transition is going to be a little bumpy, don’t you think? We need someone who’s a good organizer, and knows how to work with people. Think about all of the other EMTs on the squad. Is there anyone else that wouldn’t just be a disaster?”

I considered for a moment. Lori had a point, but still…

“That’s not going to sit very well with some people,” I said. “Terry’s still new in town, and he’s only been on the squad three years.”

“Oh, I know. But everybody likes him, and he’s smart as a whip. So far the only person who’s applied is Stacy. Now, how good a job do you think she’s going to do?”

I made a face. “Oh, God.”

“Exactly. You know Terry better than the rest of us. Can you ask him if he’d be interested?”

I dusted a bit of potting soil from my hands. “I don’t expect he’ll say yes, but I’ll talk to him.”

“That’s all I ask, dear.”

I cut across Lori’s lawn, arriving less than a minute later on the front steps of my apartment building. My mind was churning even worse than before. Stop it… you know Terry. George is full of shit. Even he probably knows it. 

But is he? And do you really know Terry as well as you think?

I pulled the glass door about halfway open, then released the handle, letting it slip back closed. Turning around, I set off across town again. Towards Terry’s house.

***

When Terry answered the door, his hair was tousled and his eyes puffy. He was wearing a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt.

“I can come back,” I said.

“Naw,” he said, waving me in, “I stayed up later than I expected to last night, is all. After I shoved the kids out the door this morning, I lay back down for a bit.”

I almost asked him what had kept him up, but decided that way lay madness. I really didn’t want to know who he might be fucking.

“Are you on call?” he inquired.

“No,” I said as I followed him into the kitchen, “but if you’re about to offer me a drink, let’s not. I’m going to try to mostly stay sober at home until this overdose thing is over. If I drink, I can’t hop on for calls.”

Terry was taking two mugs from the cupboard.

“A little caffeine, then?” he suggested.

“That I’ll take.”

Settling onto the living room couch with my coffee, I tried to organize my tangled thoughts. Terry eased into his recliner, regarding me over the top of his steaming mug.

“What’s up?” he said at last.

So much, I thought. My mind was a jumbled disaster. I wanted to hold him, I wanted to scream at him, I wanted to fuck him, I wanted to never see him again. There were so many things I wanted to say. I chose the simplest.

“Lori wanted me to ask if you’d be interested in the ambulance director’s job,” I said.

Terry set his coffee down. “Run that by me again?”

I shrugged, finding myself in the awkward position of arguing in favor of something I wasn’t entirely sold on myself.

“It’s a weird situation,” I said. “Robbie was one of the first people in town to get his EMT after the state mandated licensed providers for medical transport, way back in the seventies. He’s been with Bronning Ambulance literally since it became a thing. Did you know there were only four of them, at first? Their jobs let them be on call at work, and they did heel-and-toe twenty-four-hour shifts. They were on literally half the time.”

“Jesus,” said Terry. “And we bitch about the amount of on-call time we’re doing.”

“Right,” I said. “And Robbie is only the second director. He’s had that job for over thirty years. I think we all just kind of liked to pretend that he’d never leave, but if it crossed our minds at all, we figured either Lori or Nate would eventually take his place. They’ve both been on the squad for a long time, and they’re really active. But it turns out Nate doesn’t want it, and Lori’s got too much on her plate. The only person who’s submitted an application so far has been Stacy.”

Terry rolled his eyes. “Fuck that up one side and down the other,” he said. “I understand why nobody wants her to get the job. But why me?”

“For somebody who thinks she’s an idiot, you sure don’t mind pinning her to the sheets,” I said.

Terry raised his eyebrows, but let the comment pass. He simply sipped at his coffee, waiting me out. I glanced down at my hands, then forced myself to meet his eyes.

“You’re really good with people,” I said at last. “And you’re organized. I remember when you came in to practice skills for your EMT class, and you had all of your notes in that neat little binder, sorted by topic. They’re looking for someone who can smooth over arguments and problems, keep people working as a team, and who’ll get the paperwork done. I think the ambulance committee figures you check those boxes.”

Terry considered that as he sipped more coffee.

“Still,” he said, “I’ve only been here a few years, and I know how things are in a town this size. People still refer to this house as the Jensen place, and even in ten years it will most likely have failed to become the Wilder residence. I’m the new guy in town, and that won’t change for a long time. My presence as head of the ambulance squad would probably cause some friction all by itself. Nate may not want the gig, but I can tell you right now he’ll be less than enthused if it goes to me.”

I shrugged. “Probably. Look, I’m not arguing for or against it, Terry. I’m just relaying the message.”

Terry nodded slowly. “Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll give Lori a phone call later today. I’m not sure I want the damn job, but if people really think I’m the right man I’ll at least give it some thought. Is that what you came here to discuss?” His eyes said that he knew damn well it wasn’t.

I nursed my coffee, pondering. Terry and I had our problems, it was true, but he’d never given me reason to distrust him. I cursed myself for letting George’s rantings make me paranoid. If only I wasn’t so goddamn tired.

“I saw George right before I came here,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“He seemed really on edge. And he has the idea that if I hadn’t talked to you, the cases wouldn’t have stopped.”

Terry stared at me, openmouthed. I had to suppress a grin. He’s usually so damned imperturbable that I took a certain underhanded pleasure at seeing him rendered speechless. It took him a few seconds to find his voice.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that he considers me a suspect? I knew he didn’t like me, but…”

His voice trailed off. I sighed, weighing how much I ought to say. In for a penny, in for a pound, I decided.

“I don’t think it’s a matter of dislike,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “But let’s be honest, Terry. You’re kind of a mystery. Everyone knows you had this amazing career before you came to Bronning, and they wonder why you gave it up. And where your kids’ mom is. You’ve never even told me that stuff. Plus, George checked you out, when you first came here. He spilled it all to me this morning. I got the feeling he’d been wanting to get it off his chest for a while.”

Terry leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. His eyes were boring holes through my skull. It was everything I could do to avoid looking away.

“Spilled what, exactly?” he asked in a low, serious tone.

I bit my lip. “He says you’re rich… worth millions, and that you still get a significant income in royalties. Which seems weird, considering that you live in this old house and drive that old pickup. He says that your ex has been to prison, and that she can’t see the kids unsupervised.”

Terry was watching me impassively. “I’m not surprised that he went digging.” he said. “Most small-town cops would probably have done the same thing. As for the rest…”

Pushing himself out of his chair, he crossed the room in a few swift strides. Gazing out the window, he went on.

“I haven’t told you or anyone else very much about my past,” he said, “because I wanted the nearest thing possible to a fresh start. For all that I was successful in California, my life was very much akin to a breakneck runaway freight train over which I exerted limited control, at best. I wanted to slow down, regain some perspective, and stop devoting more time to my career than I gave to my children.”

He turned from the window, and came over to sit beside me on the couch. He put his hand on my knee. I hesitated a moment, then placed my hand over his and squeezed.

“You must have been aware, on some level, that I’m financially well-off,” he said. “Certainly you’ve spent enough time here to read the signs. I have assets parked all over the place, and even lacking that, you don’t want to know what I get in quarterly royalties. With those alone I could buy half of Bronning, and the half worth buying at that. I try to avoid calling undue attention to it.”

“What about your wife?”

Terry shrugged. “I met Kathryn at a very posh event that she was hosting. I’d just had one of my books picked up by a major film company for the first time, which took me from Chevy to Mercedes overnight. The producer invited me to this thing, and I was just bowled over by how expensive and larger-than-life everything was, especially our charming and beautiful hostess.”

He smiled a little at the memory. “Christ knows what she saw in me; she obviously had money and I was still living in a studio apartment in the worst part of LA. But we were a thing by the end of the week. There was a heat between us of sufficient intensity to peel paint. The movie took off… well, you know that, it was The Angira Conspiracy. I went from dirt poor to modestly wealthy in a matter of months. Anyway, long story short, we ended up married before the year was out.”

He hesitated, and I squeezed his hand as I sipped at my coffee. This was a story I’d been waiting three years to hear.

“Anyway,” he went on, “she told me her money came from investments, and I guess I believed that, because she did have a fair chunk of change in the markets, and it was all yielding very nice returns. As it turns out, the money she had to invest in the first place was from her position as the lynchpin of an international heroin smuggling operation. Like, tens of millions of dollars a year worth of product moved. And she kept on with it, right under my goddamn nose, for the entirety of our marriage.”

“God,” I said. “That sucks. Do the kids know?”

“Halee knows everything. Naomi knows some. Dawn is vaguely aware that her mom has been to prison, and Maya… I don’t think she has a clue. Of course, Maya has no memory of her mother, and Dawn’s is hazy at best.”

“How did it end?”

“She got caught,” he said simply. “I was on location on an island just off of South America; I’d flown down there to do some hasty rewrites on a couple of movie scenes. The kids were at home with the nanny, and Kathryn was ambushed by federal agents along with several of her compatriots in the middle of finalizing a deal. To make matters even more exciting, she had a gun in her purse, and took a shot at one of the agents.”

“Is that when you stopped writing for Hollywood?” I said.

“I could hardly continue at the pace I’d been going as a single father,” he said, “especially considering that I was long past any point of needing the money. Kathryn copped a plea to tip over some other people that had been on international wanted lists for years, and got the mandatory minimum instead of the fifteen years or so she’d otherwise have been slapped with. All the same, she went to prison, and I got custody without breaking a sweat. She hasn’t seen the girls since.

“Even if I wasn’t willing… which I am… part of the conditions for my moving out of state with the kids was a court order mandating that I make them available for supervised visitation at regular intervals, in a place where Kathryn’s probation allows her to go. She has yet to take advantage of it, despite the fact that we go to California twice a year so the kids can visit their relatives on her side of the family. I’ve reached out to her every time we’ve gone to Cali, with no response.”

I realized that we had shifted, and were sitting close enough now that our bodies were touching. We were still holding hands.

I was trying to think what would be the right thing to say, when I was saved by his ringtone.

“This is Terry,” he said. I could hear a female voice on the other end, but couldn’t make out anything it said.

“With what symptoms?” he inquired. More chirping on the other end.

“All right,” he said. “I’ll be there to pick her up in a few minutes.” Another pause. “No, not at all. She gets the benefit of the doubt. I’ll be right there.” He signed off.

“Halee is at the nurse’s office at school,” he said, rising to his feet. “She’s complaining of nausea and chills. The nurse says her color is good and she’s not running a fever, and suspects that it’s an act. I’m going to run over and pick her up.”

Terry was already going for the foyer. I got up and followed, with a funny little lurch in my stomach.

“Do you think it’s an act?” I said.

“I don’t know,” said Terry, seating himself on the bench and tugging his shoes on. “How did she seem this morning at your place?”

“Fine,” I said. “Unusually cheerful, if anything.” It was true enough, even if I wasn’t about to tell him why. 

Terry nodded as he tied a shoelace. “That aside,” he said, “Halee almost never gets sick. Nor is she one to play hooky, or duck any sort of responsibility. If she’s trying to get herself out of school, there’s a reason.”

I sat down next to him on the bench, and reached for my sneakers. “I’ll go with you.”

***

I waited in the passenger’s seat of Terry’s Chevrolet crossover while he ran into the school to fetch his daughter. A feeling of dread I couldn’t define settled over me like a shroud.

It was only a few minutes before Terry strode from the building with Halee close on his heels, flinching a little as she stepped into the chill wind. Terry was carrying her backpack.

“Dad,” Halee said from the back seat, after we had pulled away from the curb. There was a frantic sort of urgency to her voice.

“I know,” said Terry. “You’re not sick. What test did you fail to study for? And what hell shall I rain down upon you for playing sick to get out of it?”

By his tone it was obvious that he was pulling Halee’s leg, but for once I didn’t find him amusing.

“Dad,” said Halee desperately. “You’re not funny. Listen to me. Something’s going on. There’s like six or seven high school kids that are out sick today, and most of them are names I put on that list for you last night.”

Terry signaled left and rounded the corner onto his street. His house is only a few blocks from the school, and we were there before a minute had passed.

“Are you sure they were called in as being sick?” he asked, as he pulled up to the curb.

“Yes! I heard them talking about it when I was walking past the office. Ms. Coombs was saying there must be some bug going around or something.”

Terry put the car in park, but left the engine running. His eyes met mine.

“What do you think?” he said.

I pondered for a moment. “All of those kids live in the service area,” I replied slowly. “If any of them had gone to the hospital by ambulance, we’d both know about it.”

Terry nodded slowly. “True. Which begs the question: where the hell are they, exactly? Are they all at home? That would be the first thing to determine, and it’d look pretty damn peculiar if you and I just started walking around banging on doors looking for allegedly ill teenagers.”

“Dad, what do you think is happening?” Halee put in from the back seat.

Terry twisted around and looked his daughter in the eye.

“I have no idea, kiddo,” he said. “That’s what we’re trying to sort out, and you’re not going to be here for it. I want you to go in the house, and stay there. Everyone thinks you’re sick, remember? I don’t even want you taking Lanie for any walks. I’ll take care of that when I get back.”

“Back from where?” the girl pressed.

“Damned if I know,” he replied. “Listen, Halee… one thing. I want you to really think. Any conversations you’ve heard about this place called the locker. Can you think of anything anyone has said about it, other than what we already know? Anything that might give us an idea where or what it is?”

Halee leaned her head against her seat and closed her eyes. Then she opened them again.

“I don’t think it’s very far,” she said. “I’ve heard kids from town talk about walking there. And…” she hesitated, closing her eyes again for a moment. “All I can think of was hearing somebody talk about things hanging from hooks. And something about cows. I’m not even sure it’s related.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. There was something tickling at the back of my mind, just brushing the edges of my consciousness.

“All right,” Terry was saying to Halee. “Listen… I’m proud of you. You did exactly the right thing today. Now, in the house with you. I’ll walk that mange-ridden beast of yours when I get back.”

“Just for that, I’m going to brush her on your bed,” said Halee. There was a smile playing about her lips, and I was relieved to see the tension come down a notch. Halee slid out of the car, shouldered her backpack, and trudged up the walk.

After the front door had closed behind the girl, I turned back to Terry, still racking my mind for whatever secret it held.

“Hooks and cows,” he mused.

“I feel like it means something,” I said, “but I can’t quite figure out what. You know, like when there’s a word on the tip of your tongue but you can’t quite remember what it is?”

“Yeah,” said Terry, “but if it doesn’t come to you pretty damn quickly, there’s only one immediate place to go. George Fronse’s office. Somebody needs to verify whether those kids are at home or not, and it can’t be us.”

I saw motion through the windshield out of the corner of my eye, and glanced towards it just in time to see a City of Bronning patrol car round the corner and accelerate towards us.

“Speak of the devil,” said Terry. The cruiser drove the half block to where we were parked, then pulled in alongside. The driver’s-side window slid down, and Terry thumbed the window button on his armrest. He and George Fronse stared at each other through their open windows, mere feet apart.

“I was about to call you, Nettie,” said Fronse without preamble. “But then I saw you here in the car. Listen…” he hesitated, eyeing Terry with overt suspicion. He sighed heavily.

“A bunch of kids are out sick at the high school, and somebody out on the north edge of town called in and said he saw a group of teenagers walking up Pine Point Road. I did a little discreet checking, and none of those “sick” teens are where they’re supposed to be. So I drove out along Pine Point, and I didn’t find anyone. Did you hear me page fire out for a search?”

I winced, mentally kicking myself. “No,” I said. “We’ve got our pagers, but not our radios. The pagers don’t get the fire dispatches.”

George dismissed this with a wave of his hand. “We’re going to start searching all those little back trails, and the woods if we have to,” he said. “Quietly for the moment; I haven’t alerted the general public. But I have called in some help from the Sheriff’s Department.”

“Do you want an ambulance staged for it?” Terry broke in.

George looked right past Terry. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you, Nettie. I’d like to get an ambulance in the vicinity, and I’d prefer not to officially page it out just yet. Besides, I don’t want to use the on-call crew. I was hoping you’d be willing to find a partner and stage with the B rig at the Lake Randall boat ramp out on Pine Point.”

“Is that where you’re putting your command post?” I wanted to know.

“That’s right,” he said. “The fire department is staging there now. I have to go brief them, and get things moving. Will you help?”

I touched Terry’s arm. “You up for it?”

“Let’s do it,” he said easily.

George’s face gave eloquent testimony to exactly what he thought of Terry’s participation, but he didn’t give voice to his thoughts.

“Then I’ll see you at the CP,” he said, and quickly pulled away.

***

As the ambulance garage door closed behind us, Terry set the rig’s radio to the city channel and spoke into the mic.

“On-call crew and anyone else with their ears on, be advised: Rig Two will be participating in an activity with Fire and Law Enforcement on Pine Point Road, with an ALS crew. We are still in service, so we will be available to take calls if Rig One goes out.”

“On-call copies,” Nate Hauss’ voice came back.

Terry nudged the accelerator, easing the rig off of the concrete apron and onto the street.

“I don’t know the back roads north of town all that well,” he told me. “What’s out there?”

“Not much,” I said. “It’s hilly, so most of it never got cleared for farmland. The sewage treatment lagoon is set up in just about the only large flat area, about half a mile northwest of town. Then there’s this valley where they used to do open-air cattle auctions. The auction pit is still there; mostly old bleachers that’d probably give you tetanus if you looked at them from twenty feet away. The only building still standing down there is…”

I broke off, realization flooding into my mind.

“Oh, my God, Terry,” I said in a whisper.

“What?”

“The old meat locker. It’s been closed down since before I was born, but it’s a brick building with steel supports so it’ll probably still be standing when time stops. It’s…”

“The locker,” Terry said, cutting me off. “Goddamn it. Hooks from the ceiling. Cows. They’ve been going to this closed-down meat locker.”

I was furious with myself. “Jesus Christ, Terry,” I fumed. “I should have seen it.”

Terry slowed, signaled, and eased the rig onto the narrow gravel of Pine Point Road. “Give yourself a break,” he said. “Have you ever been out there?”

“Kids used to hang out over there during the summer and drink,” I said. “I was there two or three times. Nobody ever got into the building that I know of; it was secured pretty well. No windows to speak of, and the doors had big iron bars holding them shut. Somebody got hurt in the auction pit the summer before my senior year, and the cops started keeping a closer eye on the place. My understanding is that people stopped going.”

Terry shook his head. We crested a rise, and were treated to a spectacular view of Lake Randall. The ice had broken and the center of the lake was clear, but it was still iced over all the way around up to about fifty yards from the shore. About a mile distant we could see the boat ramp, with Fronse’s command post trailer already set up, a number of fire/rescue vehicles and ATVs, and a milling crowd that looked to be pretty much the entirety of Bronning’s volunteer fire department. As the road dipped again, the trees blocked our view of the lake and the ramp.

“Cops only stay vigilant about such things for so long,” said Terry. “That was what… eight years ago? I’d bet they’re not watching so closely now. Who the hell knows what goes on down there?”

He plucked the mic from its clip. “EMS to law enforcement on the city channel.”

“Fronse here.”

“We have some new information, George. Don’t dispatch any search parties yet. We’ll be arriving at the CP in about two minutes, and will relay it in person.”

George was standing outside of his command trailer when we reached the boat ramp, and he waved us over to the vacant spot next to it. Two county sheriff’s deputies were with him, and another county cruiser was pulling in. Terry brought the ambulance to a halt alongside George and rolled down his window.

“I was about to get people moving,” George said shortly. “What have you got?”

“We have some reason to believe that those kids might be heading for the old meat locker,” said Terry.

“What… the meat locker?” George’s eyes were disbelieving, then suspicious. “I’m surprised you even know about that place, Terry.”

“I didn’t, until a few minutes ago,” he said. “Nettie told me about it. But long story very short: we think that’d be the first place to check, and with all hands on deck.”

“What the hell makes you think they’re going there?”

“I repeat, it’s a long story,” said Terry. “Right now we can teach, or we can do. What’s your pleasure?”

George’s eyes narrowed to slits. “All right. We’ll get everyone headed in that direction. Do you guys know how to get there?”

I saw Terry’s thin smile at George’s transparent attempt to trap him into admitting knowledge of the location. He turned to me.

“You’ve been there before,” he said. “Can you find it?”

“The times I was there, we cut through the woods,” I replied. “By road, I’m not sure.”

“More like trails than roads,” said George, “but it’s just barely dry enough that we should be all right.”

“We’ll follow someone, George,” said Terry. “It’d be kind of stupid for EMS to be first in, anyway.”

Fronse nodded and turned to go, but then a thought struck me.

“George,” I said. He turned back to us. “I…” the words stuck in my throat. I shook my head and tried again. “I think you should page both rigs out for this,” I said.

George’s eyebrows went up. “Take both trucks out of service when there aren’t even any patients yet?” he said incredulously. “Come on, Nettie, stop holding out on me. What do you know?”

“I don’t know anything,” I shot back. “Not for sure. For fuck’s sake, George. You’ve known me my whole life. I’ve single-handedly kept two people close to you from dying. Do you trust me, or not?”

George held my gaze for a long moment. Slowly his hand moved to the collar mic attachment for his belt radio.

“Franklin County, this is Bronning PD one. I need EMS paged out; two ambulances to stage in the area of 55242, County Road Two.” The whole time he was speaking, his gaze never wavered from my face. Now he turned his attention to Terry.

“You know how to get to County Two?”

“Vaguely,” said Terry, “but I’ve got Nettie here to navigate. We’ll be good.”

The pager chimed. “Bronning ambulance rigs one and two, your call to stage near 55242, County Road Two is at 10:23. You’ll be assisting law enforcement from that point.”

“Rig Two copies,” said Terry into the mic.

“Rig One copies,” came Nate’s voice.

“All right,” said George. “There was gravel leading down to the old auction yards a long time ago, but it’s pretty grown over now. Last time I was out there you could still get a cruiser down it if you were careful, but that’s been five years or better. If you go to that address on County Two, there’s a field approach you can pull into while we go down and get a look. If the road is passable, and the scene looks secure enough, we’ll signal you down. The first thing you’ll come to when you enter the valley is the auction pit. Use that as your cold zone while we approach the building. If it looks like the cold zone might turn warm, I’ll give you the word to retreat.”

Terry and I both nodded; this is standard procedure. EMS personnel are never to risk our necks under any circumstances. Providers who became patients can’t help anybody and tie up resources.

George turned away, and Terry rolled up his window, put the truck into gear, and pulled out.

On to Chapter Ten!

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.

For a more detailed breakdown of the first seven chapters, please consult the Chapter Links.

***

by Rachael Yukey

“Are you sure about this, Nettie?” Terry’s tone was heavy with skepticism.

Seated on the couch in his living room, I could hear him in the kitchen, removing a bottle from the selection of fine whiskeys he stored in his liquor cabinet. Glasses clinked, and there was a gurgling sound as he poured.

“What’s the poison of the evening?” I asked.

“This,” he said in reverent tones, “is a twenty-five year old Glenfarclas, and it will restore life to the dead, if administered within a reasonable length of time.”

“Seriously, though,” he went on, returning to our main topic as he crossed through the dining area and into the living room, a drink in each hand, “how does this even make sense? Eight cases in a week, one more goes to Jordan Friday afternoon, and then bupkis for the rest of the weekend? How the hell does that work?”

He handed me a glass, then sat. “Cheers,” he said, raising his.

I clinked glasses with him, and took a sip. “Holy shit.”

He sipped his own drink, then smiled. “Umm hmm.”

“You just ruined me, you bastard. I’ll never be able to buy budget Scotch again.”

It was Sunday evening, and I’d just arrived back in Bronning following my weekend tour at Thormleton. I was still wearing my work polo, and tactical pants stuffed with supplies. I’d spent the whole weekend at work, picking up a Saturday nightshift to make up for a lack of personnel. For the entire thirty-six hours, if I hadn’t been with a patient, my mind had been on my Friday evening tryst with Halee, and my body was a hot steaming mess.

My mind wasn’t in a much better state. Guilt and shame were directly at war with elation. One minute I was proud to have made Halee’s first experience with a partner a happy one, the next I was wracked with remorse at having violated a child. Yet even in the most profound depths of contrition, little gears were whirring, planning our next meeting. I knew I had lost. Even sitting here in front of the man whose trust I’d breached, I wondered where in the house she was, and how I could spirit her back to my place.

With an effort, I wrenched myself back to the matter at hand. “The fall-off in cases isn’t as weird as you think it is,” I said. “It’s a pretty normal pattern, at least out here in the middle of nowhere. There’s always meth and weed floating around, but we don’t get the steady stream of higher-end narcotics like they do in the metro. We talked about this last week, remember?”

Terry nodded, idly swirling his drink around in the glass.

“Anyway,” I went on, “a new supply of heroin or whatever comes in, we get hammered with overdose calls, and then it goes away until the next batch shows up. It’s not so strange.” I took another sip of my life-restoring drink.

Terry sipped at his own, looked away for a moment, and then met my eyes again. “You don’t find it oddly coincidental that we told a whole slew of people what you’d noticed, and it suddenly went away?”

“You’re the one who just used the word ‘coincidental’. Just because something happened before–”

“I know, I know,” he broke in. “It’s the classic fallacy: post hoc, ergo propter hoc. I get that. I still think this is one hell of a coincidence. And I’ve officially ceased to trust George Fronse.”

“Why?” said a voice from the bathroom. Both my head and Terry’s jerked around in unison.

Halee stood there framed in the bathroom doorway, wearing a yellow bathrobe that came only to her knees, a towel wrapped around her hair. She looked clean and wholesome and achingly desirable. In seconds, my heart was hammering in my chest.

“Jesus, kiddo,” said Terry. “You’ve got to stop sneaking up on people.”

She frowned. “I told you I was taking a bath.”

“And I spaced it. How much of the conversation did you hear?”

“All of it.”

Terry pursed his lips and gazed at the ceiling. Then he met his daughter’s eyes. “Sit down for a minute.”

Halee crossed the room and settled into the big recliner.

“Halee,” he said, speaking slowly, “has there been any talk at school about any kind of new drug… or anything some of the older kids might be using? Someplace new they might be going? Or anything at all unusual, aside from Jason Bixley’s death?”

Halee looked thoughtful, then nodded. “Sometimes when the high school kids are around, you hear them talking about going to a place called ‘the locker’. I think it’s new… I mean, I haven’t been hearing about it for very long. I just figured it was a cool new hangout.”

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees as I regarded my little lover. “Do they say anything about what goes on there?”

“Nope, I’ve just heard them talking about it in little groups. I do remember someone saying the best shit… sorry Dad, that’s their words… is at the locker. I guess that’s how people talk about drugs, isn’t it? They’re pretty quiet about it, now that I stop to think. I just noticed it because… I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Because you’re a good listener,” I said. “What was the last thing you heard about it?”

“Ummm… it was Friday. That the locker was going to be closed this weekend.” Her eyebrows shot up with dawning realization. “This has something to do with all those cases you were talking about, doesn’t it? The cases that haven’t happened since Friday. Cases of what?”

Terry was sitting ramrod straight. “Halee,” he said, ignoring his daughter’s question, “when did you start hearing about the locker? How long ago?”

“Maybe a month or so ago.”

“Before the cases started,” I mused.

“What cases?” said Halee. “Come on, Dad, what’s…” Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. I just remembered something.” She pulled her legs in under herself, careful to hold the end of the bathrobe down. I forced myself not to stare at the place where her thighs disappeared beneath the fluffy yellow fabric. “One of the volleyball players… it was Sam Jensen… she was out of school the first two days of last week because she had some kind of allergic reaction or something. She’s one of the kids I’ve heard talking about the locker.”

Terry and I shared a long look.

“And come to think of it,” Halee went on, “the night she went to the hospital was the same night last weekend when you guys went out on an ambulance call.” She fixed her gaze on me. “It wasn’t an allergic reaction, was it?” the girl pressed. “She’s one of your cases.”

Terry rose to his feet, circled around the coffee table, and gazed down at his daughter. “Listen to me, kiddo, and take it seriously. Nothing we say is to leave this room, understand?”

“I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“You’d damn well better be. What happened to Samantha Jensen was no allergic reaction, and it might be related to what happened to Jason Bixley. It’s happened to a handful of other people in their late teens or early twenties, although I don’t think any of the rest are kids who attend your school. You with me so far?”

Halee nodded.

“We don’t know exactly what it is, but it’s dangerous as hell. This is something that can kill you. If you get an invitation to the locker, the only answer is fuck, no. If you hear anyone in your grade talking about going there, we need to know about it as quickly as possible. In fact, if you hear anything unusual, anything at all, you come to either Nettie or myself right away. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” said Halee. Her eyes were wide.

Terry returned to the couch and sat down. “Just don’t draw attention to yourself. Don’t ask questions, or try to persuade anyone not to go. Don’t do anything you don’t normally do. If you hear something, great, but don’t go out of your way to hear anything. Make sense?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you list the names of everybody you’ve heard talking about this?” I asked.

“I think so. It actually hasn’t been very many people.”

I dug in one of the cargo pockets of my pants, pulled out my notepad, and tossed it to Halee. I followed it with a pen.

Halee began scribbling in the notepad. Suddenly she looked up. “If I can’t find one of you, who should I talk to?”

“I’ll give you my old flip-phone,” said Terry. “First try calling me, then Nettie if you don’t get me. Unless someone is going to die if we take our hands away, we’ll answer. You good with that, Nettie?” I nodded.

Halee regarded us, her expression even more serious than usual. “You really don’t want me talking to anyone else, do you? Not even Chief Fronse.”

“It’s complicated,” I said. I flashed her a surreptitious look that I hoped she understood to be an apology.

“Very complicated,” said Terry, “and I’m not going to explain it all to you at the moment. I need you to trust us on this one. Say nothing to anyone… just tell one of us if you hear anything. Can you do that?”

Halee nodded. She got up and crossed to the couch, where she handed me back the notepad and pen. “These are the ones I can think of.” She held my eyes for a moment, with startling intensity.

“Thanks, kiddo,” said Terry. “Now, I want you upstairs, with both the stairway door and your bedroom door closed. No eavesdropping. Got it?”

Halee’s face was the picture of pinched dissatisfaction, but she didn’t argue. “Lanie, come,” she called out. The Boston terrier trotted out of the bathroom, where it had been sprawled on the throw rug next to the tub. Halee scooped up the dog and entered the stairway, pulling the door shut behind her.

Terry downed the remainder of his scotch in a single gulp. “The locker. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Never heard of it.”

“It could be nothing,” he mused. “One of those back-country hangouts where small-town kids go to drink beer and make out. And it could be that Halee’s just now hearing about it because she’s getting a little older, and rubbing shoulders with the high school kids more often. Could be that we just scared the living bejesus out of her for nothing.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Not even a little bit. Another drink?”

***

Terry and I sat up for about another fifteen minutes, looking over the list of names Halee had given us. There was nobody there that either of us knew well enough to just walk up to and hit with questions. We’d just tentatively agreed to call the sheriff’s department the following day when we heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

I glanced down the hall in time to see Halee emerging from the stairway door.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not eavesdropping; I just need to use the bathroom.”

“It’s all right,” said Terry. “I think we’re just about at a point where we might as well table the discussion till tomorrow. What do you say, Nettie?”

“Is that code for you’re getting too old to stay up late and need your beauty rest?” I teased.

“Look at me,” said Terry. “Clearly the beauty rest is paying dividends. Besides, I have to get up and get kids to school in the morning.”

“Dude,” I said, as a snickering Halee disappeared into the bathroom, “it’s not even eight, for God’s sake. But it’s okay. If you’re too decrepit to keep up, I’ll go home and watch a movie or something.”

Terry chuckled, raised his glass to me, and sipped. “You won’t,” he said. “You’ll just play that godawful noise you call music until you fall asleep on the couch.”

“Yeah, I don’t really watch a lot of movies at home,” I said. “It’s not as much fun alone. You don’t have anyone to talk about it with.” That’s not really true; I’m just not that much of a TV person at all. It’s one thing that Terry and I have very much in common. But a wicked plan was forming in my mind. I sipped slowly at my drink, stalling for time. We heard the toilet flush and the water run, and a moment later Halee came out.

“What are you planning to watch?” she asked, eyeing me speculatively.

Holy shit; she’s thinking the same thing I am! “I haven’t decided,” I said. “What’s good these days?”

“Well, there’s a new Top Gun coming out,” she said, “and I haven’t seen the first one. I’ve been meaning to get around to it.”

“Damn,” I said. “I saw that when I was a little kid, but it’s been so long I don’t remember much. Maybe I should watch that.”

“There you go,” Terry broke in. “It is a school night, but you’ll have time to watch it together if you start soon. I even have that one on my Prime account if you want; Halee knows the password.”

I felt a delighted grin fighting to break free, and Halee was making a visible effort to keep her own emotions in check. Terry himself had just made it easy for us.

“What time do you want her home?” I asked.

“I usually expect her in bed by ten-thirty on school nights,” Terry replied.

“What if I just bring some school clothes and crash at Nettie’s place?” said Halee, wearing a secretive little smile that she didn’t let her father see.

***

“Now that Dad’s not around, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Halee inquired as we trudged the five blocks to my apartment, our shoulders hunched against the wind. My Kia was still parked in front of Terry’s house; I couldn’t exactly drive it home after downing three shots of his wonderful yet highly potent Scotch.

I hesitated, pulling my scarf more tightly around my neck. How much to tell? It wasn’t a matter of trust; I just wanted to protect her. Halee’s mature for her age, but she’s twelve, for God’s sake. Besides, there wasn’t much I could tell her that she didn’t already know.

“I can’t tell you very much,” I said slowly, “because I don’t know very much. You’ve heard the gist of it; kids are overdosing on something weird and new, and it’s more difficult to treat than most overdoses. Oh, and the whole thing seems to be centered around Bronning. That’s… really all I’ve got.”

“What about the stuff with Chief Fronse?”

Damn. “That’s hard to talk about, because I’m not really sure of anything,” I told her. “It’s just that there’s been some weirdness about the whole thing that seems to involve the cops. It’s probably nothing. I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

She didn’t look entirely satisfied, but chose not to press the point. We walked the rest of the way in silence, throwing little glances of anticipation at each other.

Once the door was bolted securely behind us, I scooped Halee into my arms, lifting her feet from the floor as we came together in an open-mouthed kiss. I carried her that way into the living room, supporting her by her buttocks, then tumbled backwards onto the couch, taking her with me. Using her position atop me to take control, Halee rained kisses on my cheeks, forehead, and the corners of my eyes. I slipped both hands beneath the Bauhaus t-shirt she wore, running my fingertips up and down the ridges of her spinal column.

Now her mouth was on my neck, driving me wild with desire. I brought my leg up between hers, planting my foot on the couch. Halee pressed herself against my thigh, starting a slow, rhythmic humping motion that didn’t stay slow for long. In moments her cheek was pressed against mine, lips slightly parted, her breath coming in shuddering gasps as she gyrated against my leg with an increasing urgency. She threw her head back, and I could see beads of sweat on her forehead.

Suddenly she stopped. “H-hang on,” she said, obviously struggling to get enough air to speak. “Where’s your TV remote?”

I blinked, completely brought up short. “Wait, what?’

She rolled off of me, landing on the floor. “Ow,” she muttered, massaging her butt cheek with a rueful expression. Then she looked up. “Your remote,” she repeated. “We should turn that movie on. That way if Dad gets into his Prime account, it’ll pop up on his home screen and he won’t wonder what we’re really up to.”

I stared at her in awe, then laughed. “You’re some kind of evil genius, you know that?” Plucking the remote from the end table, I tossed it to her.

While Halee logged out of my account and into Terry’s, seated on the floor with her back to the couch, knees drawn up, I placed one foot to either side of her, massaging her legs with my toes while restlessly toying with her hair. As she pored through her dad’s purchased films in search of the cinematic blockbuster in question, I let the tips of my fingers drift down to caress her jawline.

“You know,” she said a little breathlessly, “this would go faster if you weren’t making my hands shake.”

My chuckle came out a bit breathy as well. “I like making your hands shake.” Finally locating the movie, Halee got it started, then pressed the mute button, dropped the remote to the floor, and twisted her body around until she was looking up at me. She smiled. “Your bedroom? I’d rather do this without Tom Cruise watching.”

I rose from the couch. Halee reached up, and I took her hands in mine, helping her to stand. I pulled her close, caressing her belly.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I just got off a thirty-six hour shift, and I’m still in my work clothes. I know you had a bath earlier, but how about taking a shower with me?”

“Mmmm…” she said, as if savoring something particularly tasty, “That sounds great.” Then she twisted her head, looking up at me with a frown. “Did you really not get to shower for thirty-six hours? Gross!”

I chuckled as I unwrapped myself from her. Taking Halee’s hand, I led her towards the bathroom. “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I said. “We have bedrooms and a shower at the station. I took one yesterday morning.”

“How much do you get to sleep?”

“That depends.” Now in the bathroom, I closed the door, turned on the ceiling fan, and then took her into my arms. “Management doesn’t care what we do if we’re not running, so if we get our asses kicked at night, we can crash between calls during the day. It works out all right – most of the time, anyway.”

What I didn’t tell her was that I really hadn’t slept well at the station this weekend. Not because I didn’t have time; it hadn’t been busy. And not because of the dreams; they’d been mercifully silent these past few days. No, it was because every time I closed my eyes, visions of Halee’s gorgeous naked body came calling, consuming me in equal measure with shame and lust. I’d masturbated to an explosive orgasm the previous night in that crappy little bedroom at the station, but sleep? Not so much.

Dana Fraser had been riding as a third on my truck for the entire tour, and I’d been tempted to see if I was right about those speculative looks I’d seen her giving me. As I’d predicted, she was already sleeping with Darren Tanner, but he was off-shift, and I figured it was way too early for them to be exclusive. But I restrained myself, thinking it better to at least wait until she’s no longer my trainee.

Now I leaned down to kiss this lovely creature in my arms, intending to keep things easy, slow, and sensuous. It didn’t stay that way. Halee turned up the heat in a hurry, kissing me with a desperate longing that made it clear she was as primed as I was. Her fingers found the bottom of my work polo and lifted. I raised my arms, hoping I didn’t smell too bad. Once she had it up as far as she could reach I took over, freeing it from my arms and casting it to the floor. She placed delicate little kisses along my collarbone as she reached around to unclasp my bra.

A funny thought interrupted my rising passion. “Last week when you were here, I told you I didn’t need a mommy to dress me,” I whispered, as she let the undergarment fall. “Do you think I need one to undress me now?”

A delighted smile cracked her face. “Have you been a good girl… or a bad girl?”

“I’m feeling pretty naughty at the moment… ohhhhh!” I moaned as she took one of my nipples into her mouth and sucked, teasing it with the tip of her tongue.

“Well, then,” she said primly, tilting her head up to meet my gaze, “I guess you have to take your bath and go to bed without dessert.”

“I’m going to eat you for dessert,” I announced, pressing my open mouth to hers. Our tongues met and clashed, then she pulled away. Her increasingly ragged breathing was music to my ears.

“You’re being a BAD girl,” she said, already short of breath.

She let go of me and bent down, twisting the faucet handle in my bathtub. She held her fingers under the water, adjusting the temperature as it warmed. Once it was set to her satisfaction, she stoppered the tub.

“No shower?” I wanted to know.

“No, young lady. I’m giving you a bath, and you’re going to like it,” she pronounced in imperious tones, barely suppressing a giggle.

I was already turned on, but at this proclamation I became instantly and impressively wet. I’ve never been much into roleplay – not that I’d ever had a partner who’d displayed more than token interest in such games – but little Halee playing Mommy to my wayward child is one of the hottest things I’ve ever experienced.

“Fine,” I pouted, my attempt at petulance falling a little flat due to a basic inability to steady my voice. “You can make me get in the bath, but you can’t make me wash up.”

Halee put on an exasperated air, also spoiled slightly by her breathiness. “I have to do everything,” she muttered.

She unbuttoned and unzipped my tac pants, then squatted to tug them down my thighs. Leaving the pants around my ankles, she trailed her fingers up my legs, stopping just short of my plain white cotton panties. Then she caressed the large damp spot I’d left, making me shiver and go up on my tiptoes.

“Naughty girl,” she intoned, no longer able to keep her voice from trembling, “You got your underpants all wet.” She pulled them down, too, dropping them on top of my pants. I lifted one leg, then the other, letting her pull the clothing out from under me, then I repeated the procedure while she got the socks. Neither of us said a word during this process, which was followed by Halee dipping her fingers into the now half-filled tub.

Finding it satisfactory, she stood. “In you get,” she said. Her voice was steadier now.

I stepped into the tub, and sank down gratefully into the wonderfully hot water. Lying back, I felt instantly renewed and refreshed, my aching level of arousal momentarily forgotten in the sheer pleasure of the moment. Then Halee passed a trembling thumb across my mouth, and it was all over for me, the impulse to relax instantly forgotten.

I caught her thumb between my lips, sucking it into my mouth. Halee let out a little sigh of pleasure and closed her eyes. Then she gradually withdrew her hand, shaking her head at me.

“No playing around, little lady,” she whispered. “Bad little girls have to be cleaned up before they get to have any fun.” Casting her eyes over the various items arrayed on the shower surround shelves, she selected a sponge, anointed it with a little body wash, then began the slow, torturous, exquisite process of cleansing my body. She did my torso, avoiding my tits for the moment. Then she made me sit forward and washed my back, using unhurried circular motions that drove me wild.

Then Halee instructed me to lie back. Setting the sponge aside, she shampooed my hair, her hands gliding sensuously across my scalp. After using the spray nozzle to rinse my long black mane, she took up the sponge once more, this time going to work on my tits. She spent some time there, delicately teasing my nipples with the sponge until I was ready to scream, then moved to my legs.

For someone who was brand new to sex with a partner, Halee turned out to be a natural fucking tease. She lifted one leg, then the other, slowly bringing the sponge up the backs of them until it was just below my buttocks. Then the outsides, then the insides. Slow, sensuous, ever-so-sweet torture. She came to within millimeters of my pussy, then backed away. Every time she reached the top, I lifted my hips, more impatiently each time. Then I was letting out little moans every time she came close, then sucking in my breath and shuddering from head to toe when she ran the sponge across my aching center.

She flashed that same shit-eating grin that she uses when she beats me at cards, pressed the heel of her hand against the sponge, and began a fast back-and-forth motion. I use an extra-slippery aloe vera soap (the perfect accompaniment to bathtub masturbation), and in combination with the texture of the sponge, I was squealing, gasping, and bucking my hips like a pissed-off rodeo horse.

Halee dipped down to take a nipple in her mouth, sucking ferociously, and my midsection went off like a nuclear warhead. I writhed up and down, barely aware of water splashing over the edge of the tub. Finally my orgasm subsided, and I lay back in the cooling water, eyes closed, face barely above the surface and knees drawn up. An unfortunate reality of being six feet tall is that you don’t fit into a standard American bathtub.

Gradually I became aware of fingertips tenderly caressing my cheekbones. I opened my eyes to see Halee’s face less than a foot from mine, cheeks flushed and her breath coming in gasps. She was wet all over; my orgasmic thrashing had splashed water all over her.

I emerged from the tub all at once, towering over her like a great hulking monster. Halee backed off as I stepped out, dripping and naked. I bent over and scooped her up, carrying her from the bathroom and down the hall to my bedroom, kissing her face and neck all the way.

I dropped her onto my bed. Without a word, she sat up and yanked the t-shirt over her head. I shoved her back, undid her jeans, and tugged. She raised her butt from the bed as I tugged the jeans and panties off in one smooth motion.

Then I was all over her, my hands roaming Halee’s body, my mouth scouring her belly, her neck, and her barely-there tits. Her breathing was heavy and labored. I rolled her on her back, began landing kisses there, and suddenly became aware of a fresh-looking bruise on her left buttock. I froze, slid my hand down to that sweet little ass and caressed it with my fingertips.

“You’re bruised,”

Halee giggled. “It’s been aching ever since I fell off your couch,” she said.

Relief washed over me. I’m not sure what I’d been thinking, but in my line of work you see enough abused kids that you can’t help but have a bit of a reaction to such things.

I ran my fingertips along the crack of her ass, and she shivered deliciously. “I’ll have to kiss it and make it better,” I said.

“So you’re the mommy now,” she replied, her voice coming out as a breathy giggle.

“Damn right,” I replied, kissing my way down her spine. Delicately I kissed and licked the cheek with the contusion, then attacked the other side with more gusto, adding little love bites to the mix. I then ran my tongue down one side of her crack and up the other. Halee was humping the bed, her every breath a moan.

Finally I flipped her over, letting my  fingertips roam up and down her legs, all the while eyeballing her gorgeous pussy lips, with their light dusting of dark brown curls. I bent to nuzzle her chest, lingering long enough to run my tongue across each nipple in turn, then kissed her tenderly on the mouth.

Bringing my lips to her ear, I whispered: “I want to taste you.”

“You mean, my…”

“Yes.” I was caressing her pussy lips now, and lightly nibbling at her earlobe. “Uuuummmmm…” is a rough approximation of the sound she made. “Are you ready for that?” I whispered.

Halee didn’t speak; merely nodded. I kissed my way downward, circling her belly button with my tongue on the way by, tracing a delicate pathway down her belly and between her legs. I licked her outer lips, then took one after the other into my mouth. Halee was shivering, trying to hump my mouth, and making odd little mumbling noises.

I finally settled between Halee’s legs, wriggled my tongue into her dripping slit, thrusting it in and out a few times, then flicked it across her clit. Halee moaned, mashing her delicate little treasure into my mouth.

I went to work with my tongue – responding to her, picking up the pace as her gyrations became more urgent. Her hips thrust into the air, then she settled back, pressing her backside deep into the mattress. I rode with her through it all, my tongue never letting up in its assault upon her clitoris.

All of a sudden Halee went up on her feet and shoulders, arching her body up from the bed. I went with her, grabbing her ass with both hands to hold her up as she came, those now familiar “uh… uh… uh…” sounds emanating from her lips.

Halee’s body went limp, and I carefully lowered her to the bed. Then I stretched out alongside  her, snuggling with my lover. She tucked her head into my shoulder, still gasping for breath. Finally lying quiet and still she looked up into my eyes.

“Was I a good girl, Mommy?” I inquired in my best cute teen voice.

“You can come out of time out now,” she said, and we both laughed.

“So what’s it like?” she asked. “I mean, licking me down there?”

“You’re welcome to find out anytime,” I told her, giggling a bit.

“Do you want me to now?”

“Tempting, but probably better not,” I said. “You do need to get some sleep, after all. Have you ever tasted yourself, like on your fingers?”

She shook her head.

“Want to know what it tastes like? You’re all over my face.” I leaned in to kiss her, moving slowly so as to give her ample time to abort. She met my lips tentatively, hesitantly – then darted her tongue into my mouth.

She pulled back and giggled. “God, I can smell it.”

“Does it gross you out?”

She shook her head. “It’s nice.” She licked my lips, then around the outside of my mouth. She smiled at me, sampled the flavor from her own lips, then engaged my mouth in a passionate kiss. Finally we broke apart, resting our heads on the pillows. Reaching down, I pulled the top sheet and comforter up to cover us both.

“You know,” she said, “this could be a thing. We can be movie buddies, and Dad’ll never think twice about it.”

“I had that thought. What time do you need to get up?”

“Well,” she said, “I’m definitely going to need a shower in the morning.” She giggled, then sobered. “Say about seven?”

“All right,” I kissed her forehead, then slipped from between the sheets, getting to my feet.

She grabbed my wrist. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To get my phone, goofus. I need to set an alarm for tomorrow.” I leaned in and kissed her. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I found my phone, got the alarm set, killed the TV as the movie credits were starting to roll, then took a brief detour to the toilet. By the time I returned to the bedroom, Halee was out cold.

On to Chapter Nine!

 

by C. Cat

Note from JetBoy: This part of the story features a character who made her first and thus far only appearance in Chapter Two: Jordan, a teenage girl who works in a Victoria’s Secret shop. She helped Amanda and her eleven-year-old daughter Katie pick out enticing lingerie for Amanda’s first date with Katie’s dance instructor Caroline (the date itself takes place in Chapter Three).  At the time, both mother and daughter were quite turned on by the cute shopgirl… and Jordan seemed to take an interest in her customers that went far beyond the desire to make a sale.
For a helpful summary of the story thus far, please consult the Chapter Links.

***

Jordan sighed.

Her last summer before going off to university wasn’t turning out nearly as well as she’d hoped. Oh, she’d hit the town with her mates on the weekends, but they were only interested in going places to hook up with boys – the last thing in the world she wanted!

Now taking a rare afternoon off from her job at Victoria’s Secret, Jordan sat in the back of a little coffee shop on the high street, nursing a latte and wondering what to do with the rest of the afternoon.

At least it wasn’t all dull. Back-to-school season was in full swing, so there were lots of pretty girls strolling past the window in breezy sundresses, snug stretch pants or tight tops and tiny shorts. She found quite a few of the little ones particularly interesting, even some who looked to be younger than ten.

Plenty of the mums were worth a second glance, too – especially those with lithe legs, tight bums, and willowy figures. She’d always had a thing for ballet dancers, which might have explained the feelings she had for undeveloped young girls.

There was a gentle but steady throb pulsing between Jordan legs as her attention shifted from one female passerby to the next. The fun part was imagining what each would be like in bed. She saw herself getting fucked with a strap-on by the platinum blonde in the stylish navy blue pantsuit… then she was undressing the little girl in snug cutoffs and a tank top, delighted to realise that the girl had gone without panties.

Unbelievable, she thought, rolling her eyes. I take some time to myself, and what happens? All I can think about is having it off with half the women I see… and three-quarters of the girls!

***

Upon realising she was a lesbian, Jordan had done a lot of surreptitious reading on the subject, hungry to learn more. She quickly noticed that most girls who came out as gay claimed to have known from an early age, but that wasn’t true for her. Maybe I should have known, she told herself. I mean, the signs were all there. Sometimes, for all her supposed intelligence, she couldn’t help but feel utterly naive.

For one thing, as far back as she could remember, the sight of pretty girls had made her feel all fluttery inside. To her, it seemed perfectly natural. Girls were soft, sweet and smelled nice, while boys were more or less the opposite – didn’t everyone feel that way?

Her friends going boy-crazy had been a surprise at first, but it didn’t seem like that big a deal. It wasn’t like she hated boys or anything like that… she just didn’t think about them much. Anyway, she knew it was normal for some kids to mature faster than others, and figured it wasn’t yet time for her to develop an interest in the opposite sex. It would happen soon enough.

Then Jordan’s life took an unexpected turn after her thirteenth birthday, not long after she discovered the delights of masturbation.

It began when a friend from school let her borrow a steamy romance novel she’d filched from her mother. That night, tucked up in bed, Jordan turned to the first page and began to read.

The author didn’t waste much time on the plot. By the third page, the female protagonist was undressing, then stretching out on the sofa to fondle herself to images of some mysterious guy – anyone, really, besides her prick of a husband.

Jordan took no notice of the woman’s fantasy – instead, she followed along step-by-step, as if it was an instruction manual, touching herself just like it was happening in the story.

Right away, her tentative caresses sparked something deep inside.

It felt lovely, but Jordan needed something more satisfying than the image of an anonymous man – she didn’t know exactly what, but more than that. As her fingers continued to explore, she came up with a more satisfying fantasy – instead of being the woman in the book, Jordan pretended to be watching her.

When she found the nub of her clit, a quivering shock ran through Jordan’s body. A quiet “Yes!” slipped through the teen’s lips; her fingers moved faster. Soon the book was on the floor and her imagination ran wild as she pleasured herself for the first time, picturing a beautiful naked woman doing the very same thing

Without warning, the woman in Jordan’s fantasy suddenly became one very specific person – her maths teacher, Miss Parker.

She was no longer naked, but instead of her typical blouse and skirt, Miss Parker was dressed in the tight jumper and plaid skirt uniform the girls at school were obliged to wear.

As Jordan watched, her imaginary teacher slowly lifted the jumper, showing her flat belly and trim waist, then paused for a moment, gazing into Jordan’s eyes. Then she tugged the plain white blouse even higher, soon uncovering her breasts. They were full and creamy, topped by pert nipples. Casting her top to one side, Miss Parker began to hike up the skirt, showing more and more of her gorgeous legs until her knickers were on display.

Jordan’s mind seemed to cloud over as those familiar, wonderful feelings grew, deep in her core – but more intense than ever. The image of Miss Parker undressing for her filled the teen’s thoughts. Her teacher’s body was soft and inviting, but those deep, dark eyes were what made Jordan melt inside. A low guttural moan escaped from the teen’s lips as she came.

It was only after Jordan’s head cleared that questions began to form. There was no denying it – she’d been fantasising about a woman while touching herself, and it had been incredible.

Jordan thought she already knew what a lesbian was. She’d heard the whispers in school about the “dykes,” and “queers,” but they were all tomboys or athletes – wasn’t it only in movies where ordinary girls like her were gay? Maybe, she thought, I sort of have a crush on Miss Parker. It doesn’t make me a lesbian, does it? It’s not like I want to have sex with my teacher… right? 

Switching off the light, Jordan tried to convince herself that she was making a big deal out of nothing. But even as sleep approached, she knew that these thoughts weren’t going to simply evaporate.

The next day at school, she took her laptop to a remote corner of the library and began to type “how do I know if…” Chills ran down her spine as she pored through the very first article. It was like the author knew Jordan more intimately than she imagined anyone could.

She slumped back in her chair. Oh, my God.

***

A few years had passed since that day in the library, and Jordan wasn’t that naive and scared little girl anymore. In a lot of ways, things were better, but one difficulty remained – she was desperately lonely. Finding a playmate for casual sex wasn’t particularly difficult. What she longed for was a true lover and a genuine romantic relationship.

It didn’t help the situation that Jordan wasn’t yet “out” to her family, or most of her friends at school. Her mother, in particular, was fixated on her getting a boyfriend, as if her lack of a potential husband disgraced the family name. She’d already heard her mum making annoying comments to her nosy friends, like, “She’s too brainy for her own good – it scares the fellas off,” or haranguing her to the tune of, “Why can’t you wear some lipstick for a change, sweetie?” or some such nonsense.

I’d be disowned for sure if Mum ever sussed out the truth, Jordan knew. That, she hoped, would be much less of a problem once she went off to university. Oh, I’ll probably still be disowned, but at least I’ll have a bloody roof over my head.

That wasn’t her only problem, though. For years, she’d expected to outgrow her fantasies about preteen girls, but it never happened. If anything, the thoughts of naked little nymphs seemed to occupy her secret fantasies more than ever. There was something about their immature, developing bodies that drove Jordan wild with helpless desire.

Like that adorable girl who came into the shop a few weeks back, the one helping her mum shop for a hot date with another woman… Kate, wasn’t that the girl’s name? Mind you, I wouldn’t have kicked the mum out of bed, either. That Kate, though… what was she, ten or so? And so proud of her mother being gay!

Jordan imagined what it would be like to make love to her – to undress her and fondle her smooth, thin legs and pert bum… to tease, then suck those candy-like nipples… then finally, spread the girl’s legs open and take that sweet bare slit into her mouth.

It was a crazy daydream, and destined to remain one, but this constant obsessing on underage pussy was complicating her life – even getting in the way of finding a serious partner. The last time Jordan had gone out on a date, she’d been distracted in a big way by a young nymph in shorts who couldn’t have been more than eight. Her date had noticed, too. Thinking fast, she came up with a lie, explaining that the child resembled her younger sister… a sister she didn’t have, by the way.

So, there she was, alone in a bistro with a tepid coffee, succumbing yet again to the temptation of those little girls and their mommies, wondering which of them would star in her fantasies later that evening.

***

With just a few weeks left before the school term started, Amanda didn’t have much time to arrange for the move to Latchmore. Thankfully, the school engaged a company to maintain her house and store the things she and Katie wouldn’t be taking with them, but there were still plenty of details she preferred to take care of herself.

That day, Katie was attending Caroline’s dance class, where Amanda would be picking her up later in the afternoon. Needless to say, Amanda was very much looking forward to seeing her occasional lover once more. Until then, she had time to do a little shopping.

Amanda no longer had much use for the office attire in her closet, most of which she planned to donate to Oxfam. Her natural shyness and insecurity had been reflected in her old wardrobe, and Miss Cindy had encouraged her – instructed her, really, during an evening of torrid sex – to embrace a new look.

Amanda had been happy to oblige. Her cute new pixie haircut was a good start – soft and feminine, yet also bold. Even better, she acquired some clothes that struck the same delicate balance. Today, she felt especially attractive in a leather a-line skirt and a low-cut white blouse with sheer lantern sleeves. It wasn’t a stereotypical lesbian look, but it certainly wasn’t intended to conceal her sexuality. A pair of earrings with a subtle Venus-symbol design added just the right touch to her ensemble, also serving as a hint for any woman who happened to pick up on it.

She couldn’t wait to show off her new look to Katie’s teacher. It had been a couple of weeks since their last sexual encounter, and Amanda wanted them to be face to face when she told Caroline the news: Katie had been accepted as a Latchmore Fairy, she herself was now employed as a Latchmore House mother – and most exciting of all, she and her daughter had become lovers.

Katie had looked forward to regaling her dance instructor with this chain of events, and she’d pouted a bit at first when Amanda asked if she could be the one to break the happy news instead. Finally she relented, saying, “I guess it’s okay. She’s your girlfriend, after all.” Then, her eyes bright with excitement, Katie added, “But then you have to let me join in some time when you fuck, okay?”

“Mmmm… I like that idea,” Amanda replied. “I’m sure Caroline will too.” Rolling over in the bed, her naked daughter now on top, she gave Katie a heated French kiss.

Now strolling along the sidewalk, Amanda felt a pleasant tingle, recalling the pleasures she and her child had enjoyed after that kiss… and anticipating the fun she’d be having with Caroline

She glanced at her watch. With half an hour to spare before she picked up Katie, Amanda detoured into a coffee shop. All the tables were occupied, but there was a little nook in the back that held two large, comfortable chairs with a small table nestled between them. One of the chairs was occupied by a girl who was looking out the window, and the other one appeared to be available.

Amanda made her way to the back of the room. “Pardon me,” she asked the girl, “is this seat taken?”

The teen started, caught by surprise. “Oh! Um… no, no. Go right ahead.” She looked up, then broke into a huge smile when she recognised Amanda. “Well, hi there!”

It took Amanda a few seconds longer, but she recalled the cute Victoria’s Secret sales girl.

Seating herself, she extended a hand. “Oh, my… hello yourself! It’s Jordan, isn’t it? From the mall? You and my daughter helped me pick out lingerie… oh, about a fortnight ago. I’m Amanda, by the way.”

Jordan nodded, “I remember you – and your daughter.” she said. Actually, I was having dirty fantasies about your little girl not fifteen minutes ago. She felt a little flutter in her tummy, knowing this beautiful woman remembered her, too. More than once since that day at the store, Jordan’s private fantasies had returned to this particular mother and daughter. Now Amanda had a new haircut and a very stylish look, which only made her even more enticing than Jordan remembered. “You were shopping for a big date… I hope it went well.”

“It was wonderful – a night to remember, I must say!” Amanda replied. “I have to thank you for helping me. There’s nothing like the right outfit to give your confidence a boost, and it had been so long since I’d had a date…”

“Aw, thanks, but I can’t believe you need my help. I mean, you’re gorgeous… and I’ve got to say, that new haircut suits you perfectly!”

“You’re too kind. Truth be told, I was anything but confident, but I’m doing my best to change… the new hair is meant to be part of that. It may sound silly, but I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. It’s time for the world to see the real me.”

“That’s not silly at all,” Jordan insisted. “God, I so want to be my real self! But when you’re my age, still living with your parents… well, it – it isn’t easy.” She sighed, staring down at the table, then quickly rallied herself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to–”

“No need to apologise,” said Amanda, covering the teen’s hand with hers. “Listen, Jordan… I can see that you’re struggling with something. Why don’t you tell me about it? It sounds like you need a friend, one who understands what you’re going through… and I promise, you can be your real self with me.”

Jordan gazed at the beautiful older woman, at a loss for words. “I… I would like that, yes. Very much.”

“Good,” was Amanda’s only reply.

Taking a deep breath, Jordan began to speak. Normally she avoided talking about herself or personal matters in general, but something about Amanda made her want to open up. The mix of honesty and vulnerability that Amanda embodied was a breath of fresh air. For the first time in her life, Jordan began to share her intimate secrets.

Amanda let the girl talk. At times she would add a word of motherly support, ask a question, or open up a bit about herself, but mostly she simply listened.

What the girl had to say about her fears, feelings of insecurity and her oppressive home life resonated with Amanda in a big way. Her own mother had never been able to accept the attraction she had for girls, just as she’d refused further contact with her sister Eileen upon discovering her sister was gay. Losing Aunt Eileen had broken Amanda’s heart… and she had to keep that sorrow hidden, lest Mum find out that she and her aunt had been sexually intimate.

That loss, more than anything else, was the foundation of the wall Amanda had built around herself. She even pushed herself into entering relationships with men, to the point of a marriage that collapsed in less than a year. Her struggle for a heterosexual life foundered, but left Amanda with the gift of her beautiful little girl Katie… a child who, at the age of eleven, would become her lover.

It had taken half Amanda’s lifetime, but those walls of inhibition had finally been razed to the ground.

As Jordan described her own situation, Amanda began to suspect that what the girl wasn’t saying might be the most important part. The girl seemed to have built some walls of her own, and it became increasingly clear what lurked behind them… and what to do about it.

“My mum would go mental if she knew,” Jordan was saying. “She’s always trying to fix me up with boys. Or nagging me to wear dresses. And my friends…” She shook her head. “I’m sure some of them would be okay with me being gay, but some wouldn’t – and they’d all know, no matter who I told. That bunch couldn’t keep a secret to save their sodding lives.”

“Grown women aren’t much better about that kind of thing, believe me.”

“Wow, thanks so much for listening, Amanda,” Jordan said. “I must’ve talked your ear off! But it helped me a lot.”

Amanda nodded. “I’d love to chat again some time.” She thoughtfully studied the girl, suddenly struck by a very intriguing idea.  “Listen, Jordan… I hate to sound like I’m hitting you with a cheap pick-up line… but would you like to come over for dinner this Saturday? I’m sure Katie would love to see you again, and her new girlfriend Rayne will be there too.”

“Her girlfriend?” Jordan said with raised eyebrows, trying to seem curious without showing too much of an interest.

Amanda had to suppress a smile. “Yes, can you believe it?” she said. “I was worried about coming out to Katie, but it seems that apple didn’t fall far from the tree! It seems to have happened overnight, too. Wish it had been that easy when I was her age! Anyway, she found herself a lover, a little redhead sweetheart named Rayne. Those two are madly in love and utterly adorable. You have to see them together.”

Jordan’s memories of Katie were still vivid, and the thought of that underage cutie in bed with another little girl made the tingle between her legs mount into a throb. She pictured the two girls naked, entwined, and sharing passionate kisses, with a smiling Amanda gazing approvingly at the scene. Then she imagined that Amanda was nude, too. Okay, that’s an image I’ll be coming back to later.

“This Saturday night?” Jordan replied. “I’d love to.”

***

Jordan took a deep, calming breath as she stood before Amanda’s door. This might not be a date, but she wanted to look her best. After an hour of poring through her wardrobe, she had settled on a coral red miniskirt with a knit white halter top, adding a loose-fitting summer jacket to make it less obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She rang the bell, and the door opened almost immediately to reveal a beaming Amanda. “Welcome!” she exclaimed, ushering Jordan inside. “Come, take a seat. Care for a glass of wine? I’ve just opened a lovely Cabernet.”

“Um, sure, that sounds great,’ Jordan said, taking in the sight of her hostess. Amanda wore a sky-blue dress that fit her like two coats of paint, an apron tied in front. No way has she got knickers on under that, Jordan told herself, eyes glued to the woman’s bum as she followed.

A squeal came from the nearby stairs. “Jordan!” Katie rushed down to give the teen a hug as if they were long-lost soulmates. A redheaded girl of about twelve was close behind. Stepping back, Katie announced, “This is Rayne, my girlfriend. Rayne, this is Jordan, the girl I told you about who sells sexy underwear!”

“Pleased to meet you,” Jordan murmured, only to be surprised when Rayne hugged her the same way Katie had. That spurred Katie to join the embrace – so now Jordan had two girls in her arms.

“Do you need help with anything, Amanda?” Jordan asked, feeling a tiny bit awkward.

“Oh, I’ve got it all under control. Why don’t you girls get better acquainted? I’ll let you know when the food is ready… you and I can chat later.”

Katie seized her hand. “C’mon – we can hang out in my room!”

Jordan couldn’t have refused if she’d wanted to, especially with such delicious young things leading the way. She accompanied them upstairs, letting them guide her into a bedroom that had to belong to a teenage girl.

Katie and Rayne jumped onto the bed, bouncing a few times before seating themselves against the upholstered headboard, about a foot apart. “Come sit with us, Jordan!” Katie said, patting the space between them.

Jordan had masturbated more than once to images of going into a girl’s pretty pink bedroom, pushing the stuffed animals to the floor and indulging in sexy playtime with an adorable preteen nymph. The very thought of relaxing on the bed with these underage lesbians brought those fantasies back with a vengeance. It also took her back to the days of schoolgirl sleepovers – except in this case, she wouldn’t have to endure any obsessive discussions about boys.

Climbing onto the bed, Jordan crawled over to join the girls. It made her positively light-headed to be nestled between these enchanting young creatures. Just the smell of them was enough to make her cunt drip… and sure enough, her knickers were already wet.

It isn’t like we’re going to be having sex, she admonished herself. Not with Katie’s mum just downstairs! Try to think about something, anything else.

“So, did you two meet at school?” Jordan asked.

“Sort of,” Katie replied, “I’m starting at Latchmore School this term, and Rayne already goes there. We met at a tea party in the gardens when I was visiting with Mum.”

Jordan’s eyes brightened. “Latchmore House? What a wonderful place! I went there a few times when I was littler, and loved it. The trails, the flowers, the big fountain… But most of all,” she added with a shy smile, “I loved the fairies.”

“I knew that would be your favourite part! Did you ever get to spend time with a fairy?” Katie asked.

Jordan shook her head. “I never met one, but I saw a fairy in the woods the last time I was there. She was so pretty it made me ache inside. She tried to get me to follow her, and I really wanted to, but my mother wouldn’t let me.” She sighed. “Mum never took me back after that. She didn’t approve of the fairy costumes. Said they showed too much of their bodies…”

Resting her head on Jordan’s shoulder, Rayne let out a dramatic sigh. “That’s a shame. I know how you feel about the fairies, though. There’s this one fairy there who I just can’t stop thinking about. She’s got the prettiest legs. I’d follow her anywhere.”

Jordan smiled. “I hope that doesn’t make Katie jealous.”

“She’s not… besides, I happen to know she’s got a favourite fairy of her own!”

“Yep,” Katie agreed. “She’s the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen… but she can be naughty, too.”

“I love the idea of naughty fairies,” Jordan said. “The ones who like girls, that is.”

Katie laughed. “Fairies love everything pretty and sweet – of course they’d feel that way about girls!”

“Well, I’d like to visit Latchmore House again someday, now that I can go there on my own… How do you get to meet a fairy?”

“You never see them unless they want to be seen, but they can be really playful, and even a bit naughty… once they feel safe.”

“How do you make fairies feel safe, then?”

“They just have to trust you,” Katie said with a shrug. “A fairy needs to be sure that you won’t hurt her, or tell her secrets.” She smiled. “And if she can tell you want to play… well, that’s even better!”

Jordan nodded – then something clicked in her mind. “Wait a minute…” She studied Katie for a moment. “You’re not just a student at Latchmore, are you? You’re a fairy!”

“That’s right.” Katie wore a bad-girl grin that spoke volumes.

Jordan turned to Rayne. “And you…?”

“I’m a naughty fairy,” Rayne replied, her eyes dancing with mischief.

The younger girls burst into giggles, then Katie leaned in to trace a line down Jordan’s bare arm with the tip of her index finger. “So… what sort of fun were you thinking of having with a naughty fairy, eh?”

Omigod, is this really happening? Jordan asked herself, glancing nervously at the open bedroom door. “Uh, your mum… what about her?”

Rayne drew close to nuzzle Jordan’s neck from the left. “Oh, don’t worry about Amanda… unless you want her to join us. That would be very naughty, wouldn’t it?”

On Jordan’s right, Katie’s lips brushed her ear. “I know my mum totally wants to gobble you up, but she has to wait her turn. For now, you belong to us… and we’ve got a lovely game to play. It’s called Middle Sister.”

“I d-don’t know that one,” Jordan stammered, her heart racing like mad.

“It’s easy!” chirped Rayne. “And since it’s your first time, you get to be the Middle Sister. How it works is, I do something to you, then you have to do that same thing to Katie. Then, she does something to you, and you do it back to me. So, if I bite your ear like this…”

“Oooh!” Jordan gasped as the young girl gave her earlobe a playful nip.

Rayne knew how much Katie loved having her ears toyed with, so she was delighted to see her girlfriend squirm and let out a soft little moan when Jordan nibbled at the lobe, then gave it a swipe with her tongue.

Of course, Katie knew Rayne’s weaknesses when it came to making out, so she leaned in to place several open-mouthed kisses on Jordan’s neck. This was a double thrill – not only could she see how much Jordan loved the attention, but the anticipation in Rayne’s eyes made it even better.

Jordan was certainly enjoying herself, but at the same time she realised this was more than just a naughty game. These two underage girls were making love to each other through her, an open invitation to join in their intimacy.

When Rayne’s turn came, Jordan responded with a passionate tongue kiss. She felt the love in that kiss, a love that was both tender and intensely hungry. The two slumped back against the headboard, their tongues caught up in a tarantella of unbridled lust.

When they finally broke apart, Jordan turned to Katie. She seized the girl, practically dragging her into a fierce embrace. No point in being hesitant or bashful now. Jordan tongue-fucked that sweet little mouth, and Katie hummed her approval, blindly groping for the older girl’s breasts.

When they drifted apart, Jordan gazed into the girl’s eyes, eager to give herself to these young lovers. Her inhibitions, her fears already seemed like distant memories, easily cast aside.

Raising two fingers, Rayne brought them to Jordan’s lips. The teen took them into her mouth, wondering if she was right about what was going to happen next.

She was. As Jordan gently sucked, she felt Katie reach beneath her skirt to grasp the waistband of her panties. Raising her bum, she allowed the girl to tug them over her hips, down her trembling legs and off.

Delighted with her silky prize, Katie pressed the sodden knickers to her face, sighing blissfully as she breathed in Jordan’s thick scent, then turned to Rayne.

“You go first,” she told her girlfriend. “I want to watch you fuck her.”

Jordan gawped as Rayne reached out to caress her exposed vulva. The feel of those fingers sliding expertly between the folds of her labia in long, gentle strokes drove her frantic with desire. These were feather-light touches that barely grazed her clit, and they teased her mercilessly. She longed for more.

Sensing the older girl’s need, Rayne slowly eased a finger into her cunt. Determined not to be rushed, she began a slow, rhythmic motion, driving Jordan closer to the edge… but not quite enough.

I won’t fucking beg her… I won’t! Jordan was clenching her teeth, hands balled into tight fists, her body taut as piano wire. It felt wonderful, yet maddening.

In her haze of ecstasy, she felt something else. Opening her eyes, she saw it was Katie – the girl’s hair was brushing against her thighs, lips so close that Jordan could feel warm breath caress her pussy.

Jordan entreated Katie with her eyes, making it clear how desperately she craved the sweet emptiness of orgasm. Still, the little minx didn’t move, just observed Jordan’s cunt as if she was studying a rare flower..

“Do you want Katie to lick you? Remember, her mummy is just downstairs,” Rayne whispered as she increased the tempo of her thrusting fingers.

“Yes!” Jordan cried. “Fucking do it! LICK ME!”

With that, Katie let her tongue glide through Jordan’s slit. This sent an electric jolt through the teen’s body, but she knew this was only the beginning of her ecstasy. The girl continued to trace a pathway that led to Jordan’s throbbing clit.

“Oh, yes!” Jordan gasped. “Don’t s-stop, don’t stop! Oh! Ahhhh!”

She felt Katie’s lips capture her clit, the preteen’s tongue toying with the throbbing bud like a kitten playing with a catnip mouse. She closed her eyes as tiny but growing shocks of pleasure jolted through her body, coming so swiftly that it made her dizzy.

Lost in a mounting ecstasy, it took Jordan a moment to notice that Rayne was unfastening the buttons of her top, spreading it open to bare her breasts. Soon the young girl was caressing, teasing, and suckling Jordan’s puffy nipples while Katie ate her pussy.

My God, Jordan told herself, they’re incredible. Even at their tender age – Are they eleven? Surely no older than twelve, she reasoned – each of the girls would be a wonderful lover, but working as a team, they were nothing short of amazing. Now if only they’d let me fucking come!

Instead, Rayne and Katie kept Jordan on the edge of release for what seemed an eternity.

Rayne must’ve been in need of stimulation, because she sat up and whipped off the t-shirt she wore, which left her completely nude. Jordan only got a quick glimpse, though, before the girl straddled her face. Looking up, Jordan saw the most flawless bare slit imaginable, glistening with juices like rose petals in the morning dew.

This is it. My first taste of a little girl. My dream is coming true. Raising herself slightly, Jordan extended her tongue to sample the warm nectar.

“Ooooh, yes!” Rayne cried as she fed her cunt to the older girl.

Much as she longed for her own release, Jordan was determined to bring Rayne off first. Latching on to the girl’s clit and fondling her bottom with both hands, Jordan matched the pace of her licking to the girl’s gasps. Within seconds, Rayne was pumping her hips in time with her lover’s tongue.

When Jordan felt Rayne’s thighs clamping her head between them, she knew the girl was seconds away from coming.

Katie was well familiar with the sounds Rayne made during sex, enough to know those little squeaks meant she was on the verge of getting off. It’s going to be a big one, too! she told herself. Returning to Jordan’s clit, she gave it a light nibble.

“Yes, fuck, yes!” Rayne yelped as she let go.

A muffled cry came from Jordan as every muscle in her body went rigid. A wave of heat radiated out from the girl’s core as la petite mort consumed her. The two girls came simultaneously, caught up in a beautiful storm that raged and soothed, tore apart and bound together, destroyed and renewed.

Slowly, slowly Jordan drifted back to the present, soon realising that the soft, bare bodies of the little girls cuddling up to her wasn’t a dream. She felt their lips adorning her face and neck with delicate kisses, their fingers caressing her breasts. I’m supposed to feel ashamed, I guess, she mused, but how could something this tender and beautiful feeling be wrong? A happy sigh escaped her lips, and she briefly drifted off.

Some time later – how much, she had no idea – Jordan felt a warm hand gently stroke her brow. Opening her eyes, she looked up to see Amanda bending over the bed.

There Jordan was, minus panties, a dress hitched up far enough to leave her cunt fully exposed and lying between two nude underage girls, one of them Amanda’s own child.

There was ample reason for her to be terrified, but the warmth of Amanda’s smile told Jordan that she need not worry.

“You three are beautiful together,” Amanda said. “I was tempted to let you rest a while longer, but dinner will be ready soon.” She pointed to a plush white robe, draped across a nearby chair. “That’s for you. I’m sure you’ll want to take a shower before coming downstairs. Just don’t take too long. We can talk after dinner and, maybe, do other things.”

“H’lo, Mummy,” said Katie, sitting up and taking a long, luxurious stretch. Her first good look at the young girl’s bare upper half gave Jordan a renewed twinge of desire. I haven’t licked her nipples yet, she realised. Maybe I’ll get to do that before I leave.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Amanda murmured. Seating herself on the edge of the bed, she took Katie into her arms. “My, don’t you smell nice.”

“That’s Jordan you smell,” the grinning girl announced, giving the blushing teen a wink. “She’s delicious, Mummy. If you kiss me, you can get a taste of her!”

“How can I refuse an offer like that?” said Amanda. Leaning in, she claimed Katie’s mouth in a tender but very ardent kiss.

Jordan could only stare as mother and daughter came together in an incestuous embrace. Amanda was licking around Katie’s mouth, purring with delight as she sampled and savoured the rich, thick flavour of cunt. My cunt, Jordan thought.

They slowly parted, and Amanda turned to give Jordan a sultry smile. “You’re right, sweetie… she is delicious.”

“Got room in there for me?” Rayne had roused herself, climbed out of bed, and wandered over to join the others.

“Of course, darling.” Amanda invited her into their embrace. She kissed the girl, her hand sliding down to cup Rayne’s bare bum.

So fucking wild, Jordan thought. I can’t believe I’ve stumbled into something like this! She pushed herself into a sitting position, intent on joining in the group fun. She was a little tender between the legs, but her desire had reawakened in a way that couldn’t be denied.

Before she could make her move, though, Amanda pulled away. “Let’s not start anything we can’t finish, girls,” she said, standing up. “Dinner will be served in” – she glanced at a cat-shaped clock that hung on the wall – “fifteen minutes. I don’t think there’s time for each of you to shower, so you’ll have to take one together.” She smiled. “Don’t have too much fun in there, now. Plenty of time for that after dessert.” She made her way to the door and exited with a wave.

“Shower time!” Katie squealed. “C’mon, let’s go!” Seizing Jordan’s hand, she led the way into an adjoining bathroom, Rayne close behind. She marched over to a generously sized shower cubicle and switched on the water, then turned back to Jordan.

“Will you help us get clean like Mommy does?” Katie said, wearing a look of perfect innocence on her face as she stood holding hands with Rayne.

Jordan knelt before the girls. “Of course I will. But first, just… let me look at you.”

As Katie and Rayne posed for her, Jordan marvelled at their lithe bodies, just beginning to blossom into womanhood. Experienced as they were as lovers, it was hard to believe they were still practically little girls… but here was the proof, on full display.

Leaning forward, she planted a kiss on each of their puffy nipples, eliciting blissful sighs from both girls. She resisted the temptation to let those kisses trail further down Katie’s body for a taste of her sweetness, but she did give each girl’s bottom a caress, teasing their nether holes with her fingertips before she got to her feet. “You two get under the water now, and I’ll wash you all over.”

“But you still have clothes on,” Rayne protested. Reaching out for Jordan’s halter top, she stripped it off, once more exposing the older girl’s generous breasts.

Katie couldn’t resist the urge to touch them again. “I hope my titties grow as big as yours,” she said before leaning forward to lick each nipple.

Rayne had gone straight to Jordan’s skirt, deftly undoing the catch. It slid to the bath mat. Now all three of them were naked.

Jordan knew they couldn’t dawdle in the shower. Nonetheless, she intended to make sure the girls were thoroughly clean. She soaped their bodies first, gleefully allowing her fingers to wander into their most intimate areas, then rinsed them off with the detachable shower head.

Going down on her knees, she nuzzled Katie’s wet belly. “I already got to lick Rayne’s pussy… I want to taste you now.”

“Okay,” the eleven-year-old whispered, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

Placing her lips against the bare slit, Jordan gave it a gentle kiss, pleased to feel Katie shiver in response. She tilted her head to one side, then extended her tongue, trailing it between the girl’s labia like the careful stroke of a painter’s brush. There was a warm wetness there that didn’t come from the shower, and the hint of flavour made Jordan thirst for more.

She began to lick harder, going down on Katie like a lover possessed. The girl’s juices were tart and sharp, luscious like sour candy. Soon the teen had her mouth locked to the pink crease, sucking the dripping flesh in between licks. Katie’s hands were knotted in Jordan’s hair, the nails biting into her scalp. It hurt, but she wasn’t about to stop.

Jordan wondered what Rayne was up to, then got her answer when a pair of hands suddenly spread her bum open, then a slippery tongue bathed the crack of her arse.

She would have cried out in astonishment if her mouth hadn’t been occupied pleasing Katie. These girls are into some kinky shit, she thought. Jordan had been wanting to try rimming a lover, but hadn’t yet had the opportunity – and she’d never had her own bum licked. Fuck me, that feels bloody amazing!

By then, Katie was tottering on her feet, her breath coming in harsh gasps… and Jordan knew it was time to bring her off. She attacked the girl’s clitoris, taking it between her lips and rapidly flicking it with the tip of her tongue.

“FUCK!” Katie cried, then gave a cry that quickly mounted into a shriek as she exploded in orgasm. Her legs gave out, and Jordan had to keep the girl pinned to the wall so she could finish the job. Rayne was still eating her arse, pressing her tongue against Jordan’s rosebud as if seeking entry.

“Okay, s’enough,” Katie blurted, and Jordan gently lowered her to the tiled floor with aching arms. Turning around, the teen seized Rayne and kissed her. She had no idea what the girl’s mouth would taste like, but all she detected was a faint hint of pussy.

Now seated in the steamy cubicle, the three lovers came together in a tender embrace, sharing kisses. “Now we get to wash you,” Rayne told Jordan.

So Katie and Rayne stood Jordan up and covered her body in sweet-smelling soap. They spent more time between her legs and on her tits and bum than anywhere else, but Jordan was in no mood to complain.

Emerging from the shower, Jordan carefully towelled each girl dry, helped them slip into gauzy nighties Katie fetched from her room – going completely bare underneath, of course – then brushed their hair. Once the girls were presentable, Jordan reached for the robe Amanda had left for her – a pink silk kimono that hung just below her bottom and barely closed around her chest. “Sooo sexy!” Rayne exclaimed at the sight of her, and Katie gave an enthused nod.

Jordan did feel sexy, and her cunt was already tingling with anticipation as she followed the girls downstairs, enjoying the sight of their cute bottoms on the way.

Amanda had also changed, opting for a short silk kimono much like Jordan’s, only in baby blue. Her breasts might not have been large, but Jordan thought the way the silk flowed and draped over them was even more erotic.

The meal was delicious, but Jordan was distracted by thoughts of what was to come. Amanda was perfectly calm, betraying no sign of urgency. And though the dinner conversation was playful and flirtatious, nothing was rushed. Jordan finally caught the relaxed mood, and was able to fully appreciate the homemade fruit tart Amanda served for dessert.

As Rayne finally put her fork down, she slipped into Amanda’s lap. “Will you come play with us, Mummy Amanda?”

“Yes, Mummy!” Katie chimed in. “Would you, pretty please…?”

“Now, girls… don’t you think we should leave that up to Jordan? She is our special guest, after all.” Amanda replied. It was plain to see she liked the idea, though.

Katie found her way into Jordan’s lap. Resting her head on the older girl’s soft breast, she said, “You want to have sexy fun with Mummy… don’t you?”

“She’s the best,” Rayne added. “You’ll love her just as much as we do!”

“Oh, you girls,” Amanda murmured, a little embarrassed. “Let her decide.”

This was so different from any experience she’d had before. Jordan felt uncharacteristically shy, but she wasn’t about to miss this opportunity. “That sounds good to me,” she said. “Let’s all enjoy ourselves.”

“Well, then,” Amanda glanced at Jordan’s mobile phone, which rested on the edge of the table. “Maybe you should call your mum and tell her you’ll be staying over.”

“Yes… I think I will,” a grinning Jordan agreed, already making the call.

As Jordan struggled through the conversation with her mother, a certain little minx in her lap was determined to make the task as challenging as possible. In addition to kissing her neck, the girl slipped a hand inside Jordan’s robe to caress her breasts.

“She wants t-to check with you…” Jordan said, barely restraining a gasp as she handed Amanda the phone.

Rayne was something of a minx as well. Not only did she pepper Amanda with kisses, she reached beneath the table to touch that woman between her legs. Amanda managed to maintain her poise throughout, exchanging introductions and pleasantries before saying. “No, it’s no bother at all… Jordan is a darling girl, and I know we’ll enjoy having her.”

Amanda’s wink when she said those words made Jordan laugh. Oh, yeah, she told herself, the fun is just getting started.

After taking the phone back and saying her goodbyes, she looked up at Amanda with a sly smile of her own. “Mum says I’m supposed to do whatever you tell me.”

A round of giggles erupted from the girls.

“Girls,” Amanda tapped on Rayne’s nose, “Why don’t you play with Jordan while I tidy up a bit? I’m sure you can think of something fun to do.”

The girls sprung to their feet. “Come on!” Rayne cried, taking Jordan by the hand. They dashed from the room, and soon Amanda heard a chorus of giggles as the girls ran back up the stairs.

Amanda resisted an urge to follow. In part she savoured the anticipation of lovemaking to come, but she was also surprised by a lurking feeling of uncertainty. She’d enjoyed herself with much younger girls than Jordan, but Latchmore felt like a different world, where the normal rules didn’t apply. Could she really allow herself to indulge in the same freedom outside its walls?

Miss Cindy had warned her: breaking loose of society’s rules could be a real challenge, especially for an adult. There was no question that she’d chosen the right path, but guilt, shame and inhibition could take a lifetime to unlearn. She could almost hear Miss Cindy’s voice saying, “The only way out is through… you need to live your new life to the fullest, my sweet.”

Reminding herself of the cool confidence her mistress embodied, Amanda searched inside for her own spark of self-assurance, using it to banish any lingering doubts. Smiling to herself, she knew Miss Cindy would be proud of her for what she was about to do.

Walking upstairs, she peeked into Katie’s room. The youngsters were seated on the floor, surrounded by Katie’s Barbie dolls. Jordan was nowhere to be seen, but the girls’ game was far from innocent, judging from the positions the dolls were in. Surely they were up to something… but what was it?

Moving down the hallway to her own room, she spied Jordan. The teen stood at the foot of Amanda’s bed, facing the entrance. Still wearing the silk kimono, Jordan now had her long red hair in cute pigtails.

The sight gave Amanda a sharp, sudden twinge of lust. Jordan was very much a hot, sexy young woman, but the new hairstyle and a certain look of innocence in her eyes suggested a shy young girl.

Somehow, Amanda knew that Katie and Rayne had done the teen’s hair like this… for her benefit, she suspected. Those little scamps do know how to turn me on…

Crossing the room, Amanda stood before Jordan, reading the desire in those bright green eyes. She gave a tug on Jordan’s belt and watched as the kimono dropped to the floor, leaving the teen nude.

Amanda licked her lips while she appraised the teen’s breasts. On the slender girl, they were utterly magnificent. She must drive boys wild… too bad for them, then.

“You really are beautiful,” Amanda said, giving Jordan a hungry look as she studied the girl’s body. “And I have to admit,” she added, trailing a fingertip down her arm, “I’ve thought about this more than once since we first met.”

“Me too,” Jordan said, biting her lip in anticipation until the two women came together, mouths meeting in a passionate kiss as Amanda’s own robe fell to the carpet.

Amanda’s kisses trailed from the girl’s lips to the neck, then down to her chest. Much as she loved little girls with their lithe bodies and flat chests, the soft womanly curves of a fine set of tits never failed to delight her. She sucked on each nipple in turn, teasing them to aching tautness.

Laying the girl back on the bed, her kisses travelled downward, crossing Jordan’s belly and beyond. The teen parted her legs in anticipation, but Amanda didn’t intend to rush. Instead, she paused to enjoy the aroma of aroused cunt before stretching out alongside her.

As Amanda’s fingertips slid up the girl’s thighs, she gave her young lover another kiss. “My little darlings are quite taken with you, you know. I hope you don’t think less of me for letting them have their fun first.”

“Mmmm… no, no!” Jordan gasped as she squirmed beneath Amanda’s touch. “They’re so lucky, your girls. I wish I’d had, well… someone just like you, b-back when I was their age.”

“Thanks, love,” Amanda said. “You know, when you took Katie into the changing room that first time we met, I got so fucking excited. I imagined you kneeling down in front of my little girl, sliding her knickers down, running your tongue up and down her slit… that was before she’d ever made love, even though she liked girls by then. Just think – you could’ve been the first to taste Katie’s honey.”

Jordan’s head swam. After all the fantasies she’d had of playing with little girls in the changing room, the realisation that at least one of their mums had thought about the same thing sent a shock through her womanly core. She closed her eyes to imagine the scene. The way her eyes shine as she watches me take off her knickers – then the taste of her coating my lips… 

Amanda continued, “Whenever you see a pretty little girl in the store, I bet you imagine yourself lifting up her skirt and touching between her legs while Mummy waits outside.”

Jordan nodded as she felt Amanda’s hand slide over her thighs, the woman’s lips grazing her ear as she spoke.

“What if Mummy wanted to watch, though? Would it be a bad thing if she got wet thinking of you giving her little princess a proper fucking… so much that she wanted to see it happen?”

Jordan bit her lower lip while Amanda gently stroked her clit. “She… she would b-be a very naughty mummy,” the girl managed to say.

“I bet you’ve thought about fucking some of the mothers as well… haven’t you?” Amanda looked into Jordan’s eyes as her fingers twirled in a steady rhythm.

“Yes, I have!” the girl gasped, a wave of warmth sweeping through her when the woman’s thumb brushed her clit.

“I’m glad,” Amanda said as she slipped two fingers deep into the teen’s wetness. “Because this mother wants you to fuck her.” She leaned in to kiss Jordan again.

“Oh, God… fuck… yessss,” Jordan moaned. She clawed at the bedspread, squirming in response to Amanda’s touch, every atom of her body craving release.

This was a new experience for the teen, being taken on a long, slow ride on the way to what promised to be a massive orgasm. Practically all of Jordan’s past flings had been furtive affairs with bored housewives she’d caught eying her while they browsed for skimpy lingerie. An afternoon visit to a suburban home, a quick romp in the sheets, then a hasty exit before the husband got home. It scratched the itch, but little more. Now, for the first time, Jordan was with a lover who genuinely cared about her needs and desires.

She watched her legs being spread apart. Amanda licked her lips at the view, then got down on her belly. Jordan could feel the woman’s breath. Every nerve in her body was tingling in anticipation as Amanda’s hands slipped under her bum to draw her closer. Then she felt it. The soft warmth of a lover’s tongue dipping between her labia, then pressing into her womanly core.

Jordan felt a sob rising in her throat. She’d had her cunt licked before, but this was different. This was lovemaking as she’d always wanted it, the heat of fucking tempered by the gentleness of a caring partner. Clutching Amanda’s shoulder, she steadied herself as the world spun like a crazy pinwheel.

Whatever Amanda was doing drove Jordan frantic. The woman’s tongue seemed to flow like water – seeking, probing, filling, teasing the teen to distraction. “P-please!” was all she could say, barely able to get even that much out – but Amanda paid her no heed, just continued to lick.

Jordan felt pressure build inside until she was consumed by the need to come. Her hands were shaking, eyes squeezed shut, a hoarse moan escaping her throat. Then, as if Amanda knew the teen had reached the point of no return, she fastened her lips to Jordan’s clit.

The effect was like a switch being thrown inside, one that opened the floodgates of Jordan’s release. In an instant, her tension broke and ecstasy flowed, bathing her with waves of pure bliss that immersed her completely. Her sense of time vanished; she was pushed this way and that until the need to breathe brought her back to here and now.

Once her head had cleared she found herself cuddling with Amanda, who was giving her feather-light kisses. This woman, such a passionate lover a moment ago, was caring for Jordan like the mother she’d always wished for.

She’d never felt so satisfied… or safe. Tears of happiness threatened to well up in her eyes — but Jordan choked them back, unwilling to blubber like a baby in the presence of her new lover. After all, I haven’t got her off yet! Even after two orgasms, the raw desire she felt for the sexy single mother had yet to be quenched.

Rolling her over, Jordan straddled the woman and bent forward, dangling her breasts nearly within reach of Amanda’s lips. She reached up to touch them, but Jordan had other ideas.

Seizing Amanda’s wrists, she pinned her lover to the bed. “No,” she said firmly, “You just lie there… it’s my turn to play.”

“Yes, Miss Jordan,” Amanda said in her meekest voice, the thought of the teenager taking charge sending an electric rush through her body.

Jordan could read the hunger in Amanda’s eyes. Leaning forward, she let each nipple barely brush against the woman’s lips before taking them away. Having big tits can be a pain in the arse, she thought, but they sure are useful for teasing a lover. She bent down again – but this time, she guided Amanda’s face into her cleavage.

Sliding down a bit further, Jordan took hold of her breasts, carefully letting the tips graze her partner’s nipples.  With the slightest of movements, she made them trace little circles, tickling Amanda’s areolas, making the woman gasp and squirm.

In the mood for a little more tit play, Jordan scooted lower, spread Amanda’s legs and slipped a nipple into her dripping wet pussy, sliding it back and forth a few times before repeating the trick with the other nipple.

Sitting up, she considered feeding Amanda her own juices, like a nursing mother giving milk – but couldn’t resist the chance to taste them herself. With Amanda watching intently, she took each nipple between her lips in turn, sampling the flavour.

“Mmmm… “ Jordan said, as she licked her lips, “your pussy tastes fuckin’ incredible!”

Positioning herself, she made sure to sweep her hair to one side so Amanda would have a good view, then lowered her mouth to the woman’s beautiful cunt.

Amanda moaned as the girl’s tongue slid over her wetness to tease her clit.

Jordan was lost in pleasuring her adult lover, so it took a moment to notice a very nude Katie, kneeling next to her on the bed. “Can I help?” she said. “I really like how Mummy’s pussy tastes.”

“Of course, sweetie!” Jordan sat up to give Katie a brief but lustful kiss before scooting over to make room for the little girl. They exchanged wicked grins, then got to work.

“Oh God, yes,” Amanda moaned as her daughter and Jordan feasted on her cunt, kissing each other as often as they licked her.

Where’s Rayne? Jordan wondered. That little minx must be up to something… there’s no way she’d pass this up.

She got her answer right away. As she centred her attention on Amanda’s vaginal cleft – while Katie nursed at her mummy’s clitoris – Jordan felt a pair of small hands caressing her bum before spreading the cheeks apart. The teen tensed with excitement, raising her hips in anticipation of whatever kinky game Rayne wanted to play. Is she going to eat my arse again?

A hand slipped between Jordan’s legs to cup her sex, the fingertips just barely grazing her clit. She let out a gasp, her hands tightening on Amanda’s thighs as the tension built.

Then she felt it. The tip of something seeking entrance to her cunt, something too large to be a young girl’s finger. Besides, both Rayne’s hands were now resting on her hips.

I can’t believe this, Jordan told herself. I’m being fucked – actually fucked! – by a little girl, while I help another little girl go down on her own mum. I must’ve died and gone to Perverted Dyke Heaven…

She longed for a photo of the lewd scene – her mouth buried in the minge of a sexy woman, little Katie providing assistance, and Rayne, a strap-on cock snugly fastened round the waist, rogering her from behind.

Just then, another two inches of the fake cock got fed into Jordan’s vagina – and it drove all rational thought from her mind. She let out a gasp, somewhat muffled by Amanda’s sex. She’d been fucked a couple of times before by women sporting strap-ons, but those encounters had been clumsy and awkward, nothing like this. Rayne’s movements were gentle, yet confident… the rubbery shaft easing into Jordan’s body until it touched something mysterious deep inside her. My soul, maybe.

By then, Rayne had fully penetrated her with the toy, right up to its base. The eleven-year-old paused to let Jordan adjust to its length, then began to move her hips, working the slippery cock in and out.

It felt incredible, with sparks flying behind Jordan’s eyes at every stroke. Despite having come twice in the last two hours, she was surprised to sense that familiar storm rising once more.

She felt Katie’s lips seeking hers for another kiss. Their mouths met, tongues entwining in a lustful dance, swapping Amanda’s flavour back and forth.

Jordan was first to break away. She bent to suck Amanda’s clitoris, determined to get the woman off before she came herself. From the corner of her eye, she saw Katie eagerly dipping her tongue into Mummy’s pussy. This time, the two girls worked in tandem, quickly developing a mutual rhythm.

Amanda’s moan increased in pitch as her body shivered, then tensed an instant before she exploded in a frenzied orgasm. Jordan held on as best she could, trying not to bump heads with little Katie, who was still licking frantically at her mum.

An especially deep thrust from Rayne made Jordan cry out loud – and then she was coming herself, her voice mingling with Amanda’s in a lewd duet. The pleasure swiftly rose to a peak, then everything vanished into a tiny pinpoint of light.

When Jordan awakened a moment later, she was nestled between the girls, her head resting on Amanda’s belly.

The woman’s hand touched her face. “Are you okay, love?”

“Yeah,” Jordan mumbled. “Bloody hell… my cunt is sore.” Everyone laughed, Jordan included.

The four lay intertwined for a long, wonderful while, enjoying the warmth and tenderness of each other’s bodies, basking in the lingering fragrance of their lovemaking. Katie helped Rayne unfasten the harness of the strap-on, then the girls licked it clean together before rejoining the group cuddle. Occasional kisses and caresses were mixed with whispered words of affection until slumber claimed them all.

When Jordan awoke, Amanda was spooning her from behind, the woman’s hands gently cupping her breasts, lips touching her neck.

In the dim light filtering through the window, she saw the two girls sitting, facing each other with their legs intertwined. Their kisses were sweet and tender as they rocked their hips, grinding their bare slits together. Far from the wild sex they’d shared a few hours before, Jordan could tell this was a private moment between two girls in love.

As much as she desperately wanted that sort of love for herself, she felt no jealousy. Instead, she was filled with resolve. From this day on, she wouldn’t hide her sexuality from anyone, not even her parents. It’s time to be me, Jordan told herself.

“I hope you had a good night’s rest,” Amanda said as Jordan stretched. “Seems like you needed it.” She got out of bed, slipping into her silk kimono. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she stroked Jordan’s shoulder. “Rest a little longer if you like… breakfast is ready when you are.”

“Oh, I’m plenty rested,” the teen murmured, sitting up. “Mind you, that was quite a workout we had!”

“Here – this is for you,” Amanda said, draping a bottle-green dressing gown over the back of a nearby chair. “Have yourself a shower, if you like… then come down to eat.” Blowing the girl a kiss, she made her exit.

Minutes later, squeaky clean and wearing the dressing gown, Jordan was enjoying a large breakfast with Amanda and the girls. As she ate, it struck her how the scene at the dining table was surprisingly normal. Katie and Rayne were laughing and chattering like any girls their age, their mum was relaxing with toast and coffee, and as for Jordan herself… well… she was something like a big sister. It was very different from the detached environment of her own home. This was the kind of family she’d always wanted.

“You know,” she said, looking up at Amanda, “I’m sorry we didn’t get to know each other sooner. God, I’m going to miss all of you when I start at University. After last night, it’ll be hard to go back to my old life.”

Amanda took her by the hand. “Then you need to make a new life, with people who accept who you are. They’re out there… you just have to know where to look.”

Jordan sighed. “I’d love that… but how many others can there be who have the – the kind of feelings I do?” She glanced at the girls, feeling that all-too familiar twinge of wistful desire. “I… I didn’t ask to be this way. It’s just part of who I am. I need a lover who won’t hate me ‘cos I like, um, young girls.” She gave Rayne and Katie a yearning look.

“Did you never hear the stories about Latchmore House, and how it got started?” Amanda said, giving Jordan’s hand a squeeze. “It’s what got my daughter and me together… and brought Rayne into our lives.”

“So… you’re saying that they could – they could help me?”

Amanda nodded. “I am, sweetheart. Latchmore is much more than gardens and fairies… it’s a way for women and girls to find love with one another. And we have friends everywhere… even at your university.”

Jordan leaned forward in her seat, eyes alight with interest. “Tell me more.”

On to Chapter Eleven!

by Rachael Yukey

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

Goddamn fools.

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

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

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

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

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

“Gotta make it quick,” I said.

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

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

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

“And?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See you.”

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nate nodded once and sat back.

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

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

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

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

Fuck that.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So do you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you okay?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

I chuckled hollowly. “No, not really.”

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

“So what do you want?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is this okay, Halee?” I whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Masturbating?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nettie, please,” she moaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kinda,” I said with a dry chuckle.

“Do you want me to…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She smiled. “I’m not sorry. Are you?”

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

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

“Count on it,” I said with a grin.

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

“Why wait till you get home?”

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

On to Chapter Eight!

by BlueJean

It’s a strange thing to awaken and find yourself underwater.

You know there ought to be a sense of panic, but as the quilt floats away from your body and the entire contents of your bedroom bob around, a strange acceptance creeps over you. Yeah, this is okay. The ocean has swallowed up my aunt and uncle’s house and common sense tells me I should be drowning, but somehow I’m still able to breathe. Well, why not?

So I float out of bed and down the spiral staircase. I consider visiting the bathroom to have a pee, but I’m not sure how that would even work beneath the waves, so I hold it in for the moment. I check my aunt and uncle’s room but there’s no one in there.

“Aunt Rita? Uncle Derek?”

Oh. I can talk underwater, too? That’s handy.

I sink downstairs, open the cottage door and swim out to the edge of the peninsula. “Oh. My. Days…”

The harbour town has become an amazingly vibrant underwater seascape. Huge coral reefs of pink, white and blue festoon the spaces between brightly coloured houses. Bubbles float from chimneys instead of smoke; shoals of tropical fish swim through the streets. The whole vista is infused with shards of sunlight that pierce through the water from above, lending it an azure glow.

I push off from the cliff and swim down towards the harbour. When a vast teeming ball of butterfly fish envelops me, I find myself swimming through a tunnel of the colourful creatures, emerging to discover a huge blue whale and its calf gliding past me. I raise a hand in greeting. “Morning!”

The Mal De Mer has become an old shipwrecked galleon illuminated by neon lights and bioluminescent jellyfish. I swim past the pub and head down towards what used to be the beach (but now qualifies as a seabed, I suppose), then further onwards towards the ring of fossilised trees.

The seals are waiting. They dart around playfully, batting at me with their flippers and nibbling my toes. A particularly bold seal with red fur swims up close, its whiskers tickling my nose. It peers at me with emerald eyes that seem to dance with mischief, then whispers, “Wakey wakey, sleepy Hailey.”

My eyes fluttered open to find Aunt Rita standing over me.

“Hey,” I croaked.

She lifted a foot up onto my bed, the movement causing her robe to fall open, then put a hand to her mouth in a childlike display of pantomime scandal. “Oopsies…!”

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and considered the contours of my aunt’s naked form – the soft swell of her breasts and her wide belly dancer hips. She scissored fingers through her cunt, drawing them back up to leave her dark bush glistening with dew.

“What if Uncle Derek catches us?” I whispered. Our ‘special time’ was usually reserved for when he was away on fishing trips. My aunt wasn’t usually this reckless.

Her sticky fingers hovered near my face. “Shhh… Your uncle’s fast asleep.” She smeared her essence upon my lips and my tongue emerged to sample the musky tang. Her fingers returned to her cunt briefly, then found their way directly into my mouth. “Taste me,” she murmured.

“What’s got you so excited?” I asked as she dipped her digits back inside herself.

That earned me a dirty smile. “We’ve been invited over to Madeline’s later. For a lunch date.”

“Oh. That sounds nice.”

Knowing Madeline, I suspected the only thing we’d be dining on would be each other. But lunch at the doctor’s house would serve a dual purpose: today was the day I would give back her sealskin, so she could finally return to the ocean.

Aunt Rita pushed back the quilt that covered my body. “Pull your jammies down for me.”

I did as she asked, pushing my pyjamas and knickers down past my knees. She reached between my legs, slick fingers lubricating my labia as they brushed back and forth. I thrust my hips out to meet her touch, and she in turn thrust hers towards my face.

“Lick me, Hailey.”

With an eye towards the door and a nagging concern that my uncle might wander in, I propped my head up with pillows and drew my tongue up the length of Aunt Rita’s creamy pussy lips. Our intimacy had cemented a bond between us so powerful that I knew her by taste and smell alone: the earthy, tart flavour of her cunt, the heady animal scent that clung to the air. And something unquantifiable – a glamour that I could only assume was true love.

As I licked my aunt, her fingers plunged inside me – one in my pussy; another up my arse. “This is just a warm-up, Hailey,” she murmured. “A sneak peek of all the dirty, wicked things we’ll be getting up to later with Madeline and little Isla.

“I-I can’t wait,” I groaned, grabbing her wrist in an effort to encourage more force from her. She pumped her fingers deeper and faster, until the dull ache of my orgasm oozed to the surface, its lack of urgency creating a pleasant thrum through my half-awake body.

Tendrils of pleasure still rippling through me, but also aware of my aunt’s own needs, I lazily returned my mouth to her cunt while she strummed her tender clit to an ever-increasing tempo. Her climax emerged hissing; snarling – a ravenous, feral creature thrust out unceremoniously into the world. “Fucker!” she wailed, then clapped a hand over her mouth to silence herself until the convulsions had subsided.

I followed a bead of pussy juice as it trickled down my aunt’s inner thigh and dripped onto my pillow with a barely audible plip. She placed a finger to her lips and whispered, “Our little secret…”

A short while later I was dressed and downstairs in the kitchen with my aunt and uncle, happily munching away on a piece of toast slathered with honey.

Uncle Derek was grumbling into his phone. “Come on, you old coot, answer.”

“What’s up?” Aunt Rita asked him as she piled crockery into the dishwasher.

“Bloody Sully. I’ve been trying to get hold of him all morning. Probably forgot which button to press again. I’d have more luck sending a homing pigeon.”

I had a feeling Sully was avoiding his captain. I’d persuaded the old man to show me where he’d hidden Madeline’s sealskin, but I knew it went against everything he and my uncle stood for. A sailor’s oath is not to be taken lightly. I hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word, though.

Uncle Derek put his phone down on the kitchen table with a grunt. “Ah, well. What’re you girls up to today? I thought we could all mosey on across to the mainland and get a bite to eat. Maybe find a good museum or something.”

“Sorry, oaf. Me and Hailey already have a date,” Aunt Rita said as she massaged my uncle’s head. “Lunch with the good doctor.”

“Oh, fair enough. How come I never get invited to your little soirées?”

My aunt flashed me a wink. “Well, you’re just so uncouth. Who’d want to take a great brute of a man like you anywhere?”

My uncle seemed to relish his wife’s heckling. “You can fuck right off!” he said with a wide grin. “Stick me in a tuxedo and I’m like James feckin’ Bond. Bet you’re afraid all the ladies’ll be sniffin’ around, that’s all. Back me up here, Hailey.”

I giggled at my aunt and uncle’s exchange. For all their bickering and mutual mockery, it was clear to me how fond they were of each other. But his attempt to rally my support fell on deaf ears. “Nah, I think Aunt Rita’s right. You’d only end up breaking something.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is, eh? All girls together. Well, bugger the both of you. I’ll stay at home and fix some fishing nets, then.”

“That’s the spirit,” my aunt said and gave him a pat on the head. She sauntered round the table and rested her hands on my shoulders. “You’d be bored to death, anyway. It’ll just be us girls. Doing girl stuff… Right, Hailey?”

Her hand disappeared beneath the table and found its way between my legs. I looked up at her, shaking my head, mouth forming a silent, “Don’t.”

But she continued stroking me through my leggings while Uncle Derek browsed through his newspaper, oblivious to his wife’s ministrations. “‘Cause girls just wanna have fuh-un… Oh, girls just wanna have fun…” my aunt sang.

“Hmm? Ya, okay,” my uncle mumbled, barely paying attention.

“No place for fellas,” Aunt Rita crooned, her fingers sliding through my pussy lips. “Just ladies… and naughty little girls… together…”

Uncle Derek slapped his paper closed and found his feet. My aunt quickly pulled her hand from between my legs and smiled sweetly at him.

“Yep. Good,” my uncle said, then stretched his great big arms aloft in a yawn. “Right, I’m off down to the boat for a bit.”

“B-bye!” I squeaked, then gave my aunt a look of stinging rebuke.

She laughed at me, kissed me on the nape of the neck, and then breathed into my ear, “Let’s get ready, little girl…”

***

As we made our way downtown towards Madeline’s lair, I couldn’t help but notice Aunt Rita was quieter than usual. When she kept giving me the occasional side-glance, it was clear that something was on her mind.

“What?” I asked.

“You okay?”

“Uh, yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You know what we’re gonna be doing at Madeline’s, right?”

There was that hint of condescension again. I’d thought we were past that. It warranted a thorough roll of the eyes, in my opinion. “Yeah, I’m not dense. Sex, of course.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

“I’ve done stuff with Madeline before, haven’t I? And you and me do sex all the time. Why would I be bothered?”

Aunt Rita was silent for a spell, and I took that as an end to the discussion, until she answered with, “I dunno, because you’re only eleven? And, to be honest… I’m not sure I want to share you.”

I took her hand in mine. “I’m quite mature for my age, y’know? And I dunno if I want to share you either, but it might be fun for a change.”

My aunt seemed content with that. She nudged me playfully, and shot me a smile. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Thanks for the talk, kid.”

A short walk later and we were standing at Madeline’s front door. Six-year-old Isla opened it and greeted us with a huge gap-toothed grin. “Ello! Me an’ Mummy are watching naughty videos!” the little girl said with enough volume to inform the entire town.

“Shhh!” my aunt and I hissed in alarm.

“Isla! Get in here!” Madeline appeared behind her daughter, then ushered us through into the lounge. “How many times have I told you? We have to keep things like this secret.”

“No one even heared me!” a put out Isla insisted. “There wasn’t anybody out there.”

Madeline sank down into her leather recliner chair. “It doesn’t matter. You’re going to get us all into trouble if you’re not careful.”

My eyes were drawn to two things: firstly, the usually light and airy lounge had been darkened with drawn drapes, creating an oppressive, ominous space. Secondly, a hardcore lesbian movie was playing on the huge TV. I’d binged my fair share of porn, easily circumventing my mother’s attempts at internet parental controls. But dirty videos while adults were present? Well, that was just a bit outside my comfort zone. I was willing to work with it, though.

Aunt Rita gave Madeline a cute little wave. “Hey, bitch.”

“Hey, bitch,” the doctor shot back.

“Say hello, Hailey,” my aunt reminded me.

“Hi, bitch,” I blurted out, my attention directed towards the TV. “Uh, Madeline! I meant Madeline!” I amended hastily, causing the two women to laugh.

Isla marched up to the TV screen to give me a rundown of events. “Hailey? You see this lady here, with the blonde hair? In a minute she licks the other lady’s bottom. And then the lady with the red shoes rubs her boobies all over the blonde lady’s puss-puss, and then they… the… the blonde lady… um… no, wait… not…what do they do again, Mummy?”

“No giving the plot away, little madam,” Madeline said. “Come sit on Mummy’s knee so I can put my hand down your panties.”

The giggling six-year-old climbed into her mother’s lap. Madeline lifted the little girl’s dress and slipped a hand inside her baby blue knickers while Aunt Rita and I nestled down into the couch.

My aunt wasted no time in loosening the buttons on her jeans. “Why don’t you take your leggings off?” she said, so I slipped them down my legs and kicked them away. She reached across and rubbed me through my panties, her fingers forcing the plain white cotton between my pussy lips with each firm stroke. “You’re so wet,” she told me, and true enough, the damp spot on my knickers gave me away.

“Bring them to me,” Madeline commanded from her throne.

Aunt Rita turned to the doctor. “Huh? Bring you what?”

Our host tutted her impatience, a reprimand comically mimicked by her young daughter. “Your niece’s knickers, of course. Bring them to me.”

“What am I, your servant?” Rita replied.

Madeline narrowed her eyes. “You want to have your way with my little girl today, don’t you?” she asked pleasantly, an almost imperceptible dash of menace in her voice. “Isn’t that why you’re here? To taste her pussy? To have her taste yours?”

Every interaction I’d witnessed between the two women had painted them as equals in my eyes. Madeline was a dominant woman, I knew, but Aunt Rita could give as good as she got. But the facade slipped in that darkened living room – a fleeting glimpse behind the curtain that momentarily revealed the true dynamic of their relationship. Madeline was in control, I realised.

Some emotion flickered briefly across my aunt’s face – anger? resentment? uncertainty? “I… Yes. Yes, I want that,” she conceded.

Madeline gave a satisfied smile – a small victory. “Then bring me Hailey’s panties, will you?”

My aunt turned back to me. “Let’s take these off,” she said, sliding the damp material down my legs. She gave my bare pussy a single light stroke, and with her usual mischievous demeanour restored, offered my knickers to the doctor.

Madeline accepted the damp tribute with a smug air. Crushing them to her face, she breathed in my adolescent scent without a hint of reserve. “I can smell your excitement, Hailey,” she told me, taking delight in my self-conscious fidgeting.

Aunt Rita unfastened the remaining buttons on her jeans, pushing them down her legs along with her panties. She sauntered up to Isla and prised her labia open. “I have a treat for you, little girl.”

Madeline guided the six-year-old towards her friend’s hungry cunt. “That’s it. Lick Rita’s puss-puss. Licky licky licky.”

Aunt Rita offered herself to the child – a communion of flesh and fluid received with an eagerness that spoke more of Isla’s need to please than any real desire to go down on an adult. I suspect the distinction was unimportant to my aunt. With eyes tight shut, she threw her head back and surrendered to Isla’s kitten tongue. “So. Fucking. Good…”

I sauntered over to where the magic was happening, the doctor stalking me with wild eyes. “Well, we seem to have a little visitor,” she purred. “Why don’t you take your t-shirt off, so we can see that beautiful budding chest?”

I tugged my top over my head and stood there, naked but for my socks. Madeline raked her fingers down my bare torso, drawing a shiver from me, then Aunt Rita was kissing me hungrily on the mouth.

Isla – seemingly unable to sit still for any length of time – slipped from her mother’s lap and onto the floor. My aunt sank to her knees behind the little girl and peppered her neck with kisses, eliciting squeals of delight from the six-year-old.

“I think this pretty little dress needs to disappear!” Rita trilled, grasping the hem and hoisting it up.

“No!” giggled Isla, pushing the frock back down.

“I think so–o!” my aunt insisted.

The child stood steadfast and defiant. “No, naughty Rita!”

Madeline pushed herself up from the chair and unzipped her own dress, allowing it to cascade to the floor. She wore sheer black stockings, heels, and a lacy bra that could barely contain a pair of pillow-like breasts. Fingertips weaving vermicular patterns across Isla’s hips, she cast a spell of compelling words. “See? Mummy’s taken her dress off. Don’t you want to be a big girl like Mummy?”

Isla relented with a big cartoon sigh. “Oh, all right, Rita. I’ll let you take it off.”

I think Madeline could’ve convinced anybody to do just about anything. Such was her power over mere mortals.

Up came the brightly coloured party dress, up and over the child’s head to be discarded on the floor with an ever-growing pile of clothing. Aunt Rita shivered at the sight of the six-year-old in nothing but her panties.

“Give Rita a big grown-up kiss,” Madeline told Isla, so the little girl swung both arms around my aunt’s neck, closed her eyes, and then pushed her lips out in an exaggerated pout.

My aunt cupped a tiny pair of buttocks as she drew the child against her breasts. The two of them shared a deep kiss, Isla humming softly as she allowed my aunt’s tongue to explore freely. When they parted, Rita gently lowered the six-year-old onto her back, then tugged the child’s soft cotton knickers down her legs. “It’s time for kitty to have a kiss now,” she said, then took Isla’s peach-like mound into her mouth.

“Why don’t you get down there and lick your aunt’s cunt, Hailey?” Madeline suggested, so I sat on my heels behind Aunt Rita and feasted on her pussy while she licked Isla.

It wasn’t long before the salty tang of Rita’s orgasm filled my mouth. I pulled away as juices oozed from her quivering pussy, and watched as she collapsed against the rug and rolled onto her back with laboured breaths.

“I didn’t say you could come, Rita,” Madeline said.

Rita’s reply was as dry as a desert. “Crap… rumbled by the orgasm police again.”

Isla bounced onto her feet and gave us her best pout. “Rita didn’t make me do the nice feeling, though.”

“Patience, child,” Madeline told her. “Go turn the TV off, then Rita can finish what she started.”

Isla made to run off but clearly forgot her knickers were still stretched around her knees. She tumbled to the hard floor, then froze for several seconds while her mind caught up to her plight, as small children are wont to do. After a brief shocked pause, she screwed her face up and burst into tears.

“Oh, sweetie!” Aunt Rita fussed as she and I picked the little girl up.

“Are you okay, Isla?” I asked the wailing six-year-old – because obviously that’s the most sensible thing to ask someone who isn’t okay.

Madeline dusted off her daughter’s knees, then gave her a half-hearted pat on the bum. “Well, that wasn’t ideal, was it?”

“I-I don’t want to pl-play anymore!” Isla sobbed.

“Nothing’s fallen off as far as I can see,” was Madeline’s diagnosis as she poked and prodded the child. I didn’t think much of her bedside manner. “I’m recommending a big wet tongue in your kitty until you get the nice feeling. Nurse Rita, administer the treatment, please.”

“Right away, doctor,” Aunt Rita replied, then turned to Isla. “How does that sound, munchkin? Would it be okay if I had another little lick?”

The six-year-old peered out from teary eyes, a little smirk forming in the corners of her mouth. “I don’t mind…” she allowed, wiping snot from her nose with a fist.

Madeline tugged the offending panties down to the child’s feet. “Let’s get rid of these,” she said, pausing to wipe Isla’s wet face with them, then hurled them across the room, much to her daughter’s amusement. “Naughty knickers!”

My aunt removed the rest of her own clothes, then lay back against Madeline’s Persian rug. “I want her on top of me.”

I stood there, intrigued. “So… what are we doing?”

“Do you know what a sixty-nine is, Hailey?” Madeline asked.

I almost put my hand up – the way we did in school when we had the answer to a question. “Yeah, it’s when…” On second thoughts, I didn’t think I wanted to get into the mechanics of it, really. “Uh… yeah, I know what it is.”

“Good. Arrange Isla on top of your aunt in that position, please.”

“I know how to do it, Mummy,” Isla said, stepping across Aunt Rita, then getting down on hands and knees, her bare bottom mere inches from my aunt’s face.

Rita prised the little girl’s arse cheeks apart, clearly eager to tuck in.

“Uh uh uh, Rita!” Madeline said, breasts spilling free from her bra as she pulled the cups down. “Where’s your manners? You don’t start until I say.”

“I need to taste her,” my aunt groaned.

Madeline took hold of my shoulders and guided me around the tangle of bodies beneath us. “Get down there and rub your pussy on Isla’s arse while you aunt eats her out,” she told me, so I sank to my knees behind Isla.

“Now you may eat my daughter, Rita,” Madeline said, and from the hungry wet sounds beneath me, I judged Aunt Rita had begun in earnest.

I ground myself on the six-year-old’s bum, and was rewarded with both the occasional lick of my pussy from my aunt, and the musky taste of Madeline’s hot cunt as she sidled up and thrust herself into my mouth. When she was done with me, she lay back on the floor and snapped her fingers impatiently. “Sit on my face. Now!”

I squatted over the doctor and offered her my cunt. She ploughed her tongue through my pussy, applying enough pressure to leave me twitching at every writhing undulation. Then lighter licks, the tip of her tongue eliciting a wholly different kind of sensation as she flicked and flickered and teased.

As my arousal reached critical levels, I became more acutely aware of the soundtrack of our collective lovemaking: mouths attacking pussies, muttered obscenities and murmured endearments – whimpers and groans and sighs.

I could bear it no longer. I thrust my hips out towards Madeline’s mouth, my climax rattling out of me with a desperate wail.

Isla gazed across at her mother with glazed eyes. “Mummy, I’m… I’m g-getting the funny feeling again…”

“Are you going to come too, poppet?” Madeline cooed. “Let it all out. Do a baby come for Rita.”

The six-year-old stiffened suddenly and arched her back, my aunt’s mouth still attached to her puffy vagina. Legs frantically treading air, a squeal emerged from her lips. “M–mum–mee–eee…!”

Madeline pushed me away like something to be discarded. “Well, that’s the kids sorted,” the voracious woman said. “Now I think it’s time for the adults to have some fun again, don’t you, Rita?”

Aunt Rita gave Isla’s bottom a final kiss, then licked her lips like a pleased cat. “I wouldn’t say no to some TLC.”

The two women found their way to the couch and sat back, legs spread wide. They beckoned us over with hooked fingers and wicked smiles.

Isla rolled onto her feet and stuck her arms behind her head in an adorable stretch. “What game are we gonna play next, Mummy and Rita?”

Madeline perched a finger against the corner of her mouth. “Hmm… shall we show Hailey how to play Lucky Dip?”

Isla turned to me wide eyed, with an even wider grin. “Oh, Hailey, this game is soooo rude!”

“Is it?” I sat on the edge of the coffee table, my legs still weak so soon after my climax.

“I dunno if I can handle Hailey, so I’ll take Isla, okay?” my aunt said to Madeline.

“Works for me. Show Hailey how it’s done, Isla.”

Isla held a hand up for me, closing her fingers tightly together, thumb squeezed underneath the other four digits. “Hailey, do this with your hand, all right?”

I mimicked the six-year-old and held my flattened hand out in a gesture of oath. I couldn’t imagine where this was heading.

Poised at the entrance of my aunt’s cunt, Isla pushed her fingers into the fleshy glove inch by inch. “Now just relax, Rita,” the child said. “You might feel a little sting, but it’ll be over soon.”

It’s only now I realise the six-year-old must have been imitating her doctor mother – an obscene game of Doctors and Nurses, if you will.

Aunt Rita played the part of patient awfully well, though. “Keep going, cutie. Keep going…”

Isla’s hand had all but vanished now. She turned to me, beaming proudly. “It’s quite difficult to get your whole hand in, but you can do it if you try hard,” I was told. She squeezed a thumb alongside the other fingers, and the rest of her hand suddenly popped inside, drawing a growl of pleasure from my aunt.

“Bloody hell…” I muttered under my breath. “That’s mental…”

“Hay–leee…” Madeline sang. “I don’t think you’re going to be able to reach me from over there.”

Reluctantly, I approached Madeline, my hand still foolishly raised, as if I wasn’t sure whose it was or what I was meant to do with it. What, this? In there? 

“It looks like it might hurt,” I thought I should point out.

That seemed to amuse her. “When you’ve experienced seven pounds of baby travelling through your birth canal and out the other end, the average hand doesn’t pose much of a threat.”

“You sure?”

“Doctor knows best.”

Isla tugged at my arm with her free hand. “Hailey, when you’ve putted your whole hand inside, then you have to make it be a ball, okay?”

“She… she means a fist,” Aunt Rita was barely able to explain.

Madeline took my hand and began feeding my fingers into her sopping cunt, until my knuckles slipped inside with a squelch. “Now make a fist and move your hand backwards and forwards, but don’t pull it out.”

I rolled my fingers into a fist, the doctor’s cunt a hot moist cocoon that smouldered around my hand. “A little harder,” I was told, so I forced another inch of myself inside.

Isla sang a little song beside me as she fisted my aunt. “Luh–kee dip! Luh–kee dip! What will we find? Drippity drip! – It’s fun, isn’t it, Hailey?”

I think that song will haunt me for the rest of my days…

“Such good little girls, aren’t they?” Madeline purred, then leaned across to kiss my aunt, their tongues engaging in a lurid choreography.

I fucked Madeline with my fist for what seemed like an eternity. For some reason, my adolescent mind decided to reduce the whole obscene affair down to a singular image: the creamy froth of Madeline’s pussy juice that encircled my wrist like a mother-of-pearl bracelet. A bracelet like that would really suit me, I remember thinking.

Then the doctor’s pussy was constricting around my fist, attempting to eject me. She grabbed my wrist, making sure I was going nowhere. “Don’t you move that fucking hand! Just… keep it… right… there… Oh, Christ!”

It felt like my fingers would melt under the hot pulsing lava of her climax as she held me steadfast and cried out in desperate bliss.

Next to the convulsing doctor, Aunt Rita was snarling at little Isla below her. “Fuck me, Isla! Pump that chubby little arm in and out! Gonna… come… so hard!”

Isla looked a little concerned. “Rita, you better not—”

“I’m coming!”

The six-year-old let out a panicked cry, yanking her hand free with a loud pop. But it was too late – a gush of fluid erupted from Aunt Rita’s vacant cunt and sprayed Isla across the face. My aunt pushed out a shrill screech, causing Isla to flinch from both the piercing sound and the sudden deluge of ejaculate.

“Oh, my God…” Rita whimpered, her eyes rolling back in their sockets.

“Not again…” a drenched Isla seethed. “I hate you, Rita!”

***

Having dressed and cleaned ourselves up, Madeline pulled the curtains back and slung open the windows to air the room, and as the afternoon sunshine filtered into the lounge, it seemed to me as if we had returned to our own world after visiting some bizarre alternate universe where the rules didn’t matter, where sex with children was perfectly acceptable. I’d taken my share of enjoyment from our erotic journey, for sure, but I confess it was a relief to come back down to Planet Earth.

Aunt Rita slipped her shoes on, then leaned over to kiss me on the mouth. “Ready to head home?”

Glancing at my phone, I realised with some alarm how late it was getting: 2:40pm. I had twenty minutes to get down to the seahenge to meet Sully. “Um, I might hang around here for a bit, actually,” I told my aunt as casually as I could.

She seemed a little hurt at that, as if she thought I preferred Madeline’s company to hers. “Oh, okay. No problem. I’ll see you back at the cottage later, then.”

I wanted to tell her the truth: that I would have chosen her over Madeline every time; that I was trying to help someone get home, just trying to do the right thing. But when you’re eleven it’s not always easy to articulate how you feel, to say all the things you want to say. So I said nothing and let my aunt walk away.

Madeline sauntered into the lounge and opened up the sliding doors that overlooked the beach. “You didn’t want to go back with Rita?” she asked me.

I stood up; bunched my fists together. “Madeline. I need you to come with me right now, okay?”

The doctor gave me a bemused look. “Excuse me?”

I took hold of her arm and pulled her towards the door. “I don’t have time to explain, but we need to go to the seahenge. I have something to show you and it’s really important.”

“Don’t be silly, child,” Madeline scoffed, brushing me away. “I’m not your playmate.”

“Listen to me! We have to go now! Please!”

If she refused to go with me, I would have no option but to retrieve her sealskin and bring it back here. Thankfully Isla saved the day. “I want to go to the beach, too. Can we, Mummy?”

Madeline relented via an exasperated sigh. “Oh, all right. Let’s humour Hailey and her little game.”

The tide had receded when we arrived – a handful of minutes later than expected – and the great fossilised monument had emerged from the sea. Thankfully Sully had the good grace to wait for us, and evidently had decided to bring Odette and Jack with him, for what purpose I couldn’t fathom.

Everyone, of course, was well acquainted with the local doctor, so greetings were exchanged and small talk passed around, though Sully didn’t seem pleased that I had brought Madeline along. Considering what he and my uncle had done to her, perhaps he felt uncomfortable and ashamed in her presence.

I spoke quietly to the old man. “Where is it?”

He sparked a roll-up and took a long tug from it. “In a sea cave not far from here. Why’d you bring the doctor?”

He thought I would come alone, then – probably thought he could pass the sealskin along to me and then quietly slink away without answering for what he’d done. I wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. I wanted him to see the look on Madeline’s face when I gave her skin back. “You know why she’s here! Why did you bring Odette and Jack?”

Sully pointed to two shovels propped up against a rock. “There’s some heavy work to be done. Shouldn’t take long, but the doc stays here, all right?”

I did my best to convince Madeline not to go anywhere until we returned. “You just stay here for a bit,” I told her, quite unintentionally adopting the voice of a carer speaking to a senile old lady. “I won’t be long. Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”

Madeline narrowed her eyes at me, hands firmly planted on hips. “Why are you talking to me like I’m a child? Did someone tell you it’s my birthday or something?”

I gave her a patronising pat on the arm. In retrospect, I don’t think Doctor Madeline was a pat on the arm kinda gal. “No, but it’s a surprise, and if you leave you’ll spoil it. So just… stay right here. Please?”

We left Madeline and Isla at the ancient monument and continued on towards the caves. I realised why Sully had chosen this hour to meet: the tide was at its lowest point, the only time of day the caves were accessible. A good place to hide something you didn’t want found.

“What we looking for?” Jack asked, shovel slung over his bare torso.

“Treasure,” Sully answered without humour.

Odette gave him a side-glance. I think she was as curious as her young shipmate, but wise enough not to ask questions.

The old man came to an abrupt halt and stood peering into the wide mouth of a cave. “In here.”

The sea cave extended back thirty metres or so, and though the entrance gave us some measure of light, it still wasn’t sufficient to see what we were doing, so Odette switched on an electric lamp and the four of us picked our way to the rear of the grotto.

Sully gestured to a spot on the sandy floor where a shaft of sunlight beamed down through a hole in the ceiling above. “Dig,” he told his shipmates.

“You and Hailey will kill us and bury us here, no?” Odette joked.

Sully wheezed out a chuckle and slapped her on the back. “Nah, I promised Jack’s mum I’d get him home before teatime.”

“Fuck off,” Jack hollered, his words echoing off the stone walls. Then, muttering to himself: “I can stay out as late as I want…”

The two of them put shovel to ground and began digging, making easy progress through the soft wet sand. I wasn’t sure why Sully thought he needed help until Jack’s shovel hit something hard and he and Odette struggled to lift out whatever the object was.

“Christ, it weighs a ton,” Jack grunted. “What the hell is it?”

“Just keep pulling, you little shit!” Odette told the boy. Despite her considerable strength, even she was struggling.

With no small effort the two of them managed to haul the large object out of the hole, accompanied by huffs and puffs.

“It’s a treasure chest!” I gasped.

And so it was. The old wooden chest sat illuminated by the shaft of light above. It looked old, but I suppose anything buried under wet sand for any length of time wouldn’t have looked its best.

“Aye,” Sully grunted. “It’s lined with lead. Derek thought it’d hide what was inside better. Dunno if that’s true.” He placed the lamp on the ground and fished a large key from his pocket.

“It must be hundreds of years old. Probably left here by pirates,” a thrilled Jack mused.

“Nope,” Sully replied as he unlocked the chest and pushed back its creaky lid. “Bought it at a car boot sale in Staines about ten years ago. The bloke threw in a free table lamp too. Quite the bargain.”

The old man carefully lifted out something wrapped in sackcloth, and we followed him as he strode towards the mouth of the cave and back out into the sunlight. He lay the object down on the sand and when he glanced over at me, I thought I saw a glint of moisture in his eyes. “It’s up to you now, Hailey. I dunno what’s gonna happen but I know this is the right thing to do. Thanks for helping me find my balls.”

Jack looked more confused than normal. “What? Your balls is in there? I don’t get it…”

Odette whacked him round the back of his head. “Putain! You are thicker than a whale omelette!”

“Ow! Stop hitting me, you ugly old trout!”

I squatted down and reached a hand out towards the object, but hesitated for a second. Taking a deep breath to steel myself, I pulled back the cloth.

And there it was. A Selkie sealskin. But it wasn’t what I’d expected. The skin was black and shrivelled, and when Jack asked Sully why he had kept a dead seal hidden in a chest I couldn’t blame the boy for thinking as much. I picked it up, then screwed up my face. “It smells a bit. I hope she can still use it.”

We made the short walk back to the henge and I was relieved to find Madeline still there, skimming stones across the water with Isla. I marched up and held the sealskin out, fully expecting her to snatch it up and transform into a Selkie there and then.

Instead, she recoiled in horror. “What on earth is that?!”

“It’s yours! Take it!”

“It’s a dead animal! Get it away from me!”

“Don’t be scared, Madeline! I know what you are! Put on your sealskin and return to the ocean! Swim free!”

A concerned looking Isla reached up and took her mother’s hand. “Mummy, why is Hailey saying silly things? Is she drunk?”

I felt a firm hand on my shoulder and turned to find Sully sporting a look that conveyed both sympathy and amusement. “You’re barkin’ up the wrong tree there, girl.”

“Huh? But Madeline… she’s a Selkie… isn’t she?”

“Sully?” Jack said in a small voice.

“Mmm?”

“You did say not to tell Derek about this, right?”

“Aye, boy.”

“It’s just, he’s coming down the beach. And he looks a bit pissed off…”

“Some shit will be thrown at the fan now, I’m thinking,” Odette added helpfully.

True enough, Uncle Derek was heading our way, but it was Aunt Rita I noticed first. She strode towards us with a purpose, and for some reason was shedding her clothing piece by piece, a trail of garments scattered on the white sand as she approached.

“Rita! Stop!” I could hear my uncle wail as he hurried after her.

Aunt Rita closed the distance between us and kicked away her knickers, leaving her entirely naked.

Jack’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “I dunno what’s going on,” I heard him mutter, “but fuck me, that’s a bonus!”

My aunt reached out towards the sealskin, her fingers teetering uncertainly, as if she doubted its very existence. “Hailey…” she whispered.

Uncle Derek placed a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Rita… Don’t. Please.”

Aunt Rita whirled on him, hissing like a wild animal. “Back, oaf! I don’t belong to you! I never did!”

My uncle’s eyes pleaded with her. “I never wanted to own ya, Rita. I love ya.”

She touched my uncle’s cheek, but kept him at arm’s length. “And I love you. But I’m not a bird to be kept in a cage, you fool! I almost forgot who I was!”

“I–I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

Aunt Rita took his face in her hands and kissed him gently on the brow. “It’s your lot to fall for my kind – so it’s ever been. But if you truly love me, you’ll let me go.”

My aunt turned back to me and took the sealskin from my arms, the realisation of what was happening slowly beginning to dawn on me. “Thank you, Hailey.”

Then something extraordinary happened. It took my mind a few seconds to catch up with my eyes, but I soon realised that Aunt Rita’s dark hair was turning a fiery orange colour, bleeding outwards from her roots like red dye spilt upon blotting paper. And something similar was happening to her eyes – the dark brown of her iris metamorphosing into a bright emerald hue. The dry, shrivelled skin in her arms was undergoing the same transformation – black fur turning red, undulating and expanding as if the waters of life were being drawn back into it. The newly restored vessel seemed to shimmer and shine with vitality.

“It was you…” I murmured, astonished. “You were the Selkie.”

My aunt – or the creature I’d always thought of as my aunt – gave me a mischievous smile. “I enjoyed our time together, kid. I really did. But I have to go home now.”

I took a step towards her. “You don’t need to go. You could stay if you… if you wanted…” I trailed off awkwardly. For a brief moment I saw things from Uncle Derek’s perspective. I had fallen in love with Aunt Rita, just as he had. And like him, I was reluctant to let her go.

But I saw the wrong of it. To deny this wondrous child of the ocean her freedom wasn’t love, not truly. It was obsession masquerading as love.

So I did what my uncle could not: I let her go. “I hope I see you again, Aunt Rita. I love you, okay?”

But she didn’t return the sentiment. There was no kiss; no farewell embrace. Her eyes were fixed on the ocean, and the seals whose heads emerged from the water just offshore. I wasn’t so sure they were mere seals anymore.

“I might visit you both one day,” she told my uncle and me in a distant voice. “But it’ll be on my terms.”

Uncle Derek sank to his knees. “Rita… don’t leave me…”

My aunt stuck her neck out and a liquid sound emerged from her mouth, rolling off her tongue. “It’s Reeta, you buffoon! Reee–taa! You never could say it right…”

And then she was striding down to the water’s edge, sealskin in her arms. The last I saw of my Aunt Rita was her clambering over the rocks of the stone pontoon to disappear behind a huge plume of seaspray. It wasn’t her who glanced back at us briefly across the beach, but a beautiful red seal with emerald eyes. The creature dived into the water to join its own kind and then vanished beneath the waves.

***

So what is there left to tell?

Well, my uncle took it hard, of course. I helped him through his pain as best as I was able, but how can an eleven-year-old possibly know what a grieving man needs? I kept him fed and made sure he wasn’t cooped up in the cottage alone. It was all I could offer him. Time would do the rest.

Madeline was not the Selkie but, I discovered, a creature almost as strange. Her husband – a merchant navy captain – had died at sea several years previously while Madeline was heavily pregnant with Isla, and the doctor had never really recovered from the tragedy. It was no secret amongst the townsfolk how she would visit the beach during the small hours, staring out at the ocean, longing for something that would never return. On occasion she would sing a siren song, imagining perhaps that it would guide her lost love home.

But her grief had turned to bitterness and despair, and she learnt to despise the ocean for taking her lover. When Uncle Derek carried my unconscious aunt to the doctor’s house one stormy late night, and swore her to secrecy, Madeline – knowing what Aunt Rita truly was – took it upon herself to corrupt the Selkie. You see, in Madeline’s twisted mind, Rita was her hostage – a creature from the same world that had taken her man. And if the ocean would not give her husband back, then it would not have Rita back either.

But the strangest thing happened after Aunt Rita departed: Uncle Derek and Madeline formed an unlikely friendship. I can’t honestly say if there was a sexual element to their relationship, but regardless, their loss had somehow aligned their paths, and together they were able to help one another heal. My uncle also became a surrogate father of sorts to little Isla, and I truly believe that finally enabled him to heal an even older wound: that of his and Aunt Rita’s short-lived child – The One Who Got Away.

And me? My time at Morcant-On-Sea eventually came to an end. I returned to my mother, but our relationship deteriorated. She sent me away to boarding school and it was the best thing she ever did for me. I thrived in education, knuckling down in my studies and learning how to be independent. I left school at sixteen and then moved on to college to study journalism and English literature.

So here I am standing on the top deck of the ferry – a confident woman of eighteen with all the world before me. I smile to myself as the harbour town comes into view, all the colourful houses stacked atop one another, or so it seems to me.

I’ve come back to live with my Uncle Derek. I have a job lined up at the local newspaper while I chip away at my first novel. I’ll head up to the cottage soon, but first I need to make a little detour.

I step off the ferry and head along the pier, past the small parade of shops and The Mal De Mer pub on the corner, then down to the seafront and along the beach, past the café and underneath the huge natural rock arch. Then across the sand and round the cove until I reach my destination: The Seahenge. The tide is out as I knew it would be. The fossilised monument glistens with an emerald glow.

My heart soars when I notice the seals basking on the huge upturned trunk, and I’m delighted to see they have babies with them this time.

But try as I might, I don’t see a red-skinned seal anywhere amongst them. Not this time. I tamp my disappointment down.

Then I feel a slender hand upon my shoulder. It should give me quite a start, but somehow I was expecting it. I close my eyes and smile.

“Hey, kid,” she murmurs.

We both had come back on our own terms, I suppose.

The End

by Rachael Yukey

My fingers were working furiously between my legs. Once again I was in my favorite place, sprawled against the arm of my couch, wearing an open bathrobe and nothing else.

Bone-crunching riffs pounded forth from the speakers. “Hellbound and down!” Todd la Torre roared. That’s where I’m going at this rate, I thought, hating myself. I wasn’t even trying to purge the pedophilic imagery from my head.

I’d run into Chelsey Milne on the street not an hour before, just as dusk began to fall. It was the first I’d seen of her since the accident. Her aunt had been pushing her in a wheelchair, her left arm and leg both wrapped in heavy braces. Chelsey had thanked me for helping that day, then beckoned me closer. When I leaned in, she’d wrapped her good arm around my neck and kissed my cheek.

That simple kiss sent me into a tailspin. I forgot about the shopping I still had to do and rushed back to my apartment, feeling sick and ashamed. My cheek was on fire where Chelsey kissed me, as if she’d branded me there, and the remembered image of the girl’s bare vulva in the back of my ambulance was one I couldn’t excise from my brain. A stiff drink and a shower only seemed to make it worse, and now here I was.

The powerful sensations thrummed through my body, my fingers were dripping with juice, and I was just about to teeter over the edge when the goddamn phone went off.

Cursing under my breath, I twisted, scrabbling around on the end table behind me, succeeding in knocking both the phone and the empty whiskey glass to the floor. I snatched up the phone, realizing an instant too late that I’d used the still-slippery hand I’d been masturbating with.

Gritting my teeth at my own clumsiness, I took in the caller’s name. My eyebrows arched in surprise. I’d gone to medic school with Valeria Diaz, and we’d been an item both then and for quite a while afterwards. She worked for the hospital-based ambulance service in Melville, where Terry and I had taken that mysteriously tripping teenage girl the previous weekend. Swiping the accept button with the hand that hadn’t been mauling my twat, I lifted the phone to my ear.

“Hello, Val,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. My breathing wasn’t quite steady yet.

“Hi, Nettie,” said the light, musical, slightly accented voice. Valeria is first-generation Mexican, a rarity in an area where the vast majority of the population is still white. “How’ve you been, girl?”

“Doing okay,” I said, hoping she wasn’t going to spend too much time on small talk. A large chunk of my brain was mourning the loss of a good orgasm – throwing a screaming tantrum over it, in fact. “Hold on a sec.” I rose, crossed to the wall of stereo equipment and turned down the volume.

“Glad to hear it,” she said. “I’ve missed you. I haven’t even seen you in the ED lately.”

“That’s because I gave up slumming.” I returned to the couch and collapsed onto it. “What’s up?”

“Well… remember that girl you brought into Melville last weekend with Terry Wilder? The one who was high?”

I sat up straight. “Yeah… what about her?”

“I was just curious if you’d ever got a follow-up on that. Because I just brought in another one like it, a sixteen-year-old boy. Only mine’s in a coma, and the docs are worried about hypoxic brain damage.”

She had my full attention now. “Where’d you pick him up?”

“Funny you should ask. He was in Gregard, and that’s what… a little less than two miles northwest of Roers? Another mile south, and it would have been a Bronning call. But he’s probably alive because of you. I heard you give your radio report on that girl last weekend, and when I saw this kid and got his vitals I knew it was the same thing right away.”

“You’d have figured it out.”

“Sure, but how fast? This dude was decompensating hard. His systolic was below forty on my first pressure. I didn’t even bother with a bag; I went straight to Epi.”

I drew my knees up to my chest. “Did he go into SVT?”

“Yeah, but I got lucky. The Adenosine worked. I didn’t have to cardiovert like you did.”

I hesitated before speaking again, trying to collate all the disparate bits of information in my mind.

“Hey, Valeria?”

“Yeah?”

“I had another one like it… uh… Monday, it was. Two days ago. I was at work, and intercepted with Bronning. Big fat guy in his early twenties. That one was easier because I had my work stuff with me and was able to give him Levophed.”

“I didn’t know you had Levo at Thormleton,” she said with a laugh. “We’re still stuck with Dopamine or Epi.”

“So get out of that pit and come work for a real ambulance service.”

“What, Thormleton?” Valeria put on a mock-childish voice. “Oh, look at me, I have Levophed and a Hamilton vent, but I’m missing half of the tube sizes because the supply budget ran short last month!”

I snorted laughter; there was truth to her sarcasm. Thormleton has a forward-thinking medical director who gives us a lot of leeway and keeps us on the cutting edge, but working for a privately owned, profit-driven ambulance service comes with its own set of problems.

“Anyway, I was just wondering if you’d gotten any follow-up on yours,” Valeria continued. “I’ve never seen anything quite like this, and it seems to be kind of going around, huh?”

“My girl’s stuff got sent to the cities,” I said. “They found a substance they haven’t identified, at least they hadn’t last I heard. The docs in Johnstown were going to send out the bloodwork for that guy I transported Monday, but I haven’t heard back on that. Do you know what their plan is for your guy?”

“Not a clue, but I can find out. What do you think it is, Nettie?”

“I dunno, but I think tomorrow I’m gonna call some people I know at North and at Trinity and find out if they’ve seen anything similar. Are you still at work?”

“I,” she informed me in dignified tones, “am at home having a glass of wine and trying to decide which movie to watch.”

I idly wondered if she was still living in the same crummy apartment in Melville. Probably not… that was a long time ago. I hadn’t seen her outside of the Melville emergency department in over three years.

I let the memories wash over me for a moment. Val had been a decent enough girlfriend, and in bed she was all fire and passion. It had ultimately fizzled, but on good terms.

Thinking back on my relationship with Valeria, I realized I was still horny. Holy hell, lady, you’ve been like a loaded cannon lately. If we hadn’t both been drinking, I might’ve considered asking if she wanted to meet up. But there were other options, weren’t there? Valeria and I had lived thirty miles apart during our time as a couple, and had become expert at handling things at a distance when we couldn’t be together physically. And maybe this will help get those damn underage girls out of my head.

“Hey, Nettie,” Valeria was saying, “you still there?”

“Yeah,” I said. I threw one leg up onto the couch, letting the other flop languorously over the edge. My bathrobe hung wide open. I put the phone on speaker, then held it high, zooming the camera so it captured everything from my exposed pussy to the top of my head. My breathing was already getting a little ragged.

“I’m going to text you a picture,” I said, “and then I challenge you to give me one good reason we shouldn’t move this conversation to video chat.”

***

Minutes later I was sitting naked on my bed, laptop open in front of me. A digital camcorder I purchased years ago for a long-since-abandoned video blog stood me in good stead now; it was at the end of my bed on its tripod, the tilt and zoom controllable with a remote at my side. I was enjoying a long-shot panorama of Valeria’s living room with her in the middle, slowly and seductively lifting her t-shirt to reveal the bare belly beneath.

Like any experienced emergency provider, my situational awareness is sufficiently fine-tuned that I can take in peripheral details on autopilot, and I couldn’t help but notice that Val had moved up in the world. Her living room was high-ceilinged and well-lit, with tasteful furnishing and decoration. All was pastels and frilly, lacy things; Valeria is a lipstick lesbian through and through.

Val herself is a slender, delicate thing, standing all of about five foot two. I stared at the laptop screen, licking my lips as she lifted the shirt slowly over her head, briefly obscuring the seductive smile on her face. She wasn’t wearing a bra. Tossing the shirt aside, Val trailed both hands up her belly, letting them rest on her perky little tits. She gripped each nipple between thumb and forefinger and tweaked them, her lips parting. Through my headphones, I could hear her unsteady breathing as I zoomed in for the close-up.

“That is so fucking hot,” I said, my voice more than a little wobbly. I was completely ready and could probably have come in just a couple of minutes, but I knew it would be more fun if I gave Val time to catch up. My hand was playing across my chest, stroking each nipple in turn as my other hand worked the remote, focusing the camera in on my breasts.

“You like watching me play with my tits?” she was asking me. “Does it get you nice and juicy?”

“You know it does, you wicked bitch,” I said. “What do you think of these?” I focused in so my chest area would fill her entire screen. I then let go of the remote and began trailing my fingers across my boobs, kneading and caressing them. As my finger brushed a nipple, I groaned.

“Ooh, you dirty girl,” she said. “You’re about ready to go off, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea,” I moaned.

“Well, then… let me watch you play with yourself while I get these pants off.”

Her right hand dropped to the button of her jeans. My eyes still glued to the screen, I fumbled for the remote, then tilted the camera angle downward. Spreading my legs wide apart, I zoomed in on my aching cunt.

“Oh God,” she said in a ragged whisper. “Look how wet you are for me.”

Not just for you, I thought. Sorry, Val.

“All for you, baby,” is what I said out loud. I opened my cunt for her, using the fingertips of the other hand to caress first the outside, then the inside of my labia. Valeria was pushing the waist of her jeans down to her thighs, then allowing her fingers to glide across the front of her panties. Her hips swayed. She rotated slowly and bent over, smacking one ass cheek and then the other.

My breath was coming in ragged gasps. Still avoiding my clit, I slipped a finger inside of myself and moaned. Val straightened, her back still to me, and twisted her head around so she could see the screen.

“There you go,” she breathed. “Fuck yourself for me.”

Moving slowly and deliberately, I worked my finger in and out, squishy wet noises accompanying every stroke. I added another, and shuddered as a wave of pleasure rushed through me. Even without touching my clit, I was getting close to total meltdown.

Val pushed her panties down to her thighs, spreading her butt cheeks wide open for me. Little moans escaped my lips as I continued to fuck myself, but I carefully held back, not yet ready to come.

Finally she turned back to face me in a single, abrupt motion, and I knew that the striptease was over. Once Valeria reaches a certain point of arousal, all subtleties go off the table, and a howling demon emerges. She shoved her panties and jeans the rest of the way to the floor and shed them with a vicious kick. Hungry animal noises escaped her throat. This side of her never fails to drive me wild, and I had to pause my busy fingers to keep from going off right then.

Val parted her legs, thrusting a hand between them. As her fingers found her clit, she let out a shuddering wail.

“Oh, God,” I groaned. Two fingers still inside me, I cupped the upper part of my vulva in the palm of my hand, applying pressure but willing myself not to move. The slightest extra bit of stimulation, and I was going to explode.

Valeria brought her other hand into play, plunging two fingers into her pussy. Both hands moved furiously, the wet slapping providing a steady rhythmic accompaniment to her uninhibited shrieks and moans. Finally she went up on tiptoe, and I knew it was time to head for the finish line.

I began to violently drive my fingers in and out, palm slamming against my clit, crying out with every thrust. A few seconds later, we both went off like rockets. Valeria let out a high, keening wail and fell to her knees. I arched my body up from the bed as my orgasm slammed through me. I shuddered, cried out loud, then howled again as a second climax took me by surprise.

Finally it passed through me, and I collapsed back onto the bed. Valeria was still on her knees, fingers buried in her vagina, gasping for air.

After a few seconds, she looked up at me and grinned. I smiled back.

“Well, Nettie,” she said primly, “it was very nice catching up with you. We simply must do it again sometime,” then dissolved into a fit of giggles. It was infectious, and I found myself laughing with her. Ten minutes later we’d exchanged goodbyes, and I was out like a light.

***

The bike trails that run through the woods just outside of town are smooth and well-kept, maintained as they are with state money. It’s the perfect place to jog, and that’s where I found myself the next morning, dressed in gym shorts and a halter top. It was only a bit chilly, the first time this spring it had been mild enough to wear the shorts.

I do my damnedest to keep in shape. An unfortunate occupational hazard in my line of work is a tendency to go to flesh, and I’m determined to keep that from happening to me. For most of the long-ass Minnesota winter I’m stuck indoors with my elliptical, but I always prefer to run if the weather allows.

I was enjoying the exercise and the solitude until I rounded a bend, startled to see someone sitting on one of the park benches situated every couple of miles along the path. When I realized it was Halee, I came up short.

She said nothing, just fixed me with that sardonic little smile of hers as I walked the last twenty yards or so to where she sat.

“What are you doing out here?” I said, still a bit winded.

“I saw you take off where the bike trail goes into the woods on the other end of town,” she said. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up, so I just went straight to the other end of the trail so you’d come to me. I figured it’d take you a while, what with all the twists and turns.”

I let out a sigh and joined her on the bench, making it a point to sit far enough away that we weren’t touching.

“So… what’s up?” I said after a moment.

“Well, for starters, you promised we’d talk. It’s been a few days, if you haven’t noticed.”

I ran a hand over my face. Goddammit. I opened my mouth, realized that I couldn’t think of a single thing to say, and closed it again.

I decided to put the ball in her court. “I’m listening.”

“I like you,” she said simply, “and you like me. So… what do we do?”

Half a dozen ways to dodge that one came to the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them all. Halee deserved better. The direct approach was the only way.

“And by liking, you mean attraction,” I said.

She cast her eyes downward. “Yeah.”

I registered that, in contrast to the goth clothing she’d been affecting of late, Halee was wearing an ordinary pair of blue jeans and sneakers. She was wearing the leather jacket, however. Her cheeks were a little flushed from the chill air. Jesus, she looked stunning.

“What do you think we should do about it?” I asked her before taking time to think about the implications of the question. Whoa, girl. Dangerous territory here.

“I think we should do exactly what we want to do,” she said, lifting her head and boldly meeting my eyes. My left hand was resting on the bench, and suddenly I was aware of Halee’s little finger touching it. Then a slight motion; a caress.

I should have stopped it right then; I really should have. It wasn’t too late to pull back from the brink.

Staring back into her eyes, I placed my hand on hers, stroking it. Looking back now, I think this was the moment of no return. I twined my fingers through hers, then gave her hand a squeeze. She gripped me back, tightly.

“I know what I want,” I said, my voice just above a whisper, “but I’ll need you to tell me what you want.”

She shifted closer to me on the bench, pressing her thigh against our clasped hands. “Everything,” she said in a husky tone. “I want to do everything, and I want to do it with you.”

My hand moved, almost of its own accord, trailing upward until it rested on her thigh. She wriggled in closer until our bodies were pressed together. I slid my hand inwards and down, my fingers continuing their delicate, back and forth motion, but now on the inside of her thigh. Halee’s breathing was becoming shallow.

“Are you ready for everything?” I breathed. “Have you even been kissed?”

Halee shook her head, then tilted her face up towards mine.

It would have been so easy to move that handful of inches and press my lips to hers, but there was still a shred of rationality left in me, coldly reminding me that this was not the place to swap tongues with a girl of twelve. By this time I was firmly cupping Halee’s inner thigh, only centimeters away from her center. Her breathing had gone from shallow to ragged.

“Not here,” I got out in an unsteady voice. “All it would take is someone come around that corner and see us.”

Closing her eyes, she let her head loll as far back as it would go. “You’re right,” she finally whispered.

I thought fast. “Can you find a way to come to my place tonight?”

She shook her head. “Not tonight,” she said. “Dad’s on call, so I have to be home with my sisters in case he gets paged out. I could do it tomorrow, easy. He never checks on where I tell him I’m going.”

“Then come,” I said. “I’m not going to make any promises as to what we’ll do, but we can see where it takes us. Okay?”

She smiled up at me. “It’s a deal.”

I gave her inner thigh one more caress, and was rewarded with a slight shudder. I pulled my hand away and stood. “I’d better get back to my run,” I said, “before I get fat.”

Not giving her a chance to reply, I took off. A few minutes later, the woods spilled me out near the assisted living facility on the edge of town, and I headed straight for my apartment building. After locking the door behind me with shaking hands, I got myself to the kitchen and poured a drink, then gulped it straight down. What the fuck did I just do?

***

Hours later I sat alone at my tiny kitchen table, the printout of a map in front of me. I’d been drinking steadily, but had done what I felt was a sterling job of keeping the rate under control. I was pleasantly buzzed, not hammered. The stereo blasted Megadeth; brutality was the order of the day.

After returning — some might call it retreating — to my apartment, I’d slammed two shots, stretched out on my couch for half an hour, and then made a few phone calls. I know people at every ambulance service in the area, and nobody turns down an opportunity to share their latest war story.

The information I’d obtained was very interesting indeed. Bronning sits at the center of a rough circle, with five towns sporting small hospitals around the periphery. Each of those towns has an ALS ambulance service, and four of them had seen similar cases. The patients ranged in age from fifteen to twenty-two.

The map before me encompassed Franklin county and the counties immediately surrounding it. Using a pencil, I marked upon it the locations at which the cases had been picked up. Two Bronning calls… three, if you counted Jason Bixley. One Melville call; Valeria’s unfortunate young man, who was not expected to wake up. John Cameron at Thormleton had picked up another just last night; score one for Johnstown. Trinity Ambulance in Jordan had seen two such cases, and yet another had been transported by North in Perry.

Eight cases, all in the past week. I wondered idly if anyone else had made the connection — and then I saw something that made me drop my pencil, rub my eyes, and look again.

Not a single case had occurred on the other side of the city it had been transported to. They were all on the Bronning side. More than that, of the ones that had not been Bronning calls, most of them had occurred within a few miles of the Bronning Ambulance service area.

Bronning is the center of the circle.

***

Terry opened the door, and I brushed past him into the foyer. Taking a moment to kick off my sneakers, I strode down the hall towards the dining nook. I stopped halfway, looking back at him expectantly.

“Come on in,” Terry said dryly, still standing there with the door hanging open. “Take your shoes off. Make yourself at home.”

I rolled my eyes. “Cute. Look… just close the door and come check this out, will you? I’ve got something you really need to see.”

Terry closed the door, and made his way up the hall. “You know, normally when a lady comes into my house with something she urgently wants to show me, it’s under her clothes, thus requiring their removal.”

“I can hear you,” a voice piped up from the living room.

I looked to my left, and saw Halee peering at us over the back of the couch. Terry fell in beside me and grinned at his daughter. “Hell,” he said, “I thought you went upstairs.”

“That was Naomi. You couldn’t tell from the stream of invective directed at bedtime?”

I smiled in spite of myself. “Jesus,” I said, turning to meet Terry’s eyes. “She’s starting to talk like you do.”

Terry shrugged. “She’s a young lady of exceptional taste and profound wisdom, and only chooses the very best role models for herself.”

I felt the tension draining out of me. The urgency that had driven me here with such haste seemed a little silly, now that I’d arrived. I looked towards Halee and rolled my eyes. “One of these days I’ll figure out how to shut him off.”

Terry wiggled his eyebrows at me. “You have to turn me on before you can shut me off.”

“Oh-kay,” said Halee, getting up from the couch. “I’m going to the bathroom so I can throw up everything I’ve eaten all day. Then I’m gonna go to my room and cry myself to sleep. You just ruined the rest of my childhood.”

Squaring her shoulders with great dignity, she marched into the bathroom and closed the door. Terry sank into a kitchen chair, a rueful grin on his face.

“Dammit,” he said. “I’m still not used to her being old enough to pick up on innuendo.”

“Is it just me,” I said in a low voice as I pulled up a chair, “or is she starting to develop a sense of humor?”

Terry’s tone was equally soft. “I’ve been seeing some exciting signs to that effect just lately.” Halee came out of the bathroom, tucked her dog under her arm, and made for the stairs.

“Hey, kiddo,” said Terry, “it’s early. You don’t have to go to bed yet.”

Checking her forward motion at the foot of the stairs, Halee peered over her shoulder at us. “Oh, I’m not going to,” she said, “but I’m sure not sticking around for this conversation. I’ll find something to do in my room. Like look into how you go about joining a convent.” Turning away, she closed the stairway door behind her.

Terry met my eyes. “What’s so damned important, anyway?”

I set the map that was clutched in my hand down on the table.

Terry picked it up and inspected it. “Hmmm,” he said. “It’s a map of the area that’s been scribbled on by a dyslexic rhesus monkey. So?”

I slapped his arm. My handwriting was, admittedly, a bit shakier than usual. Blame Johnny Walker, not li’l old me.

Taking the paper from him, I laid it on the table and indicated an X I’d drawn on County Road 70, labeled ‘MVA 4/9; Bronning’. “That’s where Jason Bixley bought it.” My finger moved up to Roers. Another X, another dated label. “That’s Samantha Jensen.”

Terry pulled the paper closer to him, and pointed to another mark a little south of town on 225. “That’s where I picked up –”

“Yep.”

His eyes narrowed. “Wait a damn minute. Are these all cases of the same thing?”

“Uh-huh.”

“And all within the past week.” He rocked back in his chair.

I cocked my head. “Notice anything else?”

Terry picked up the paper again, tracing a finger from one labeled incident site to the next. Suddenly he blinked. “I’ll be goddamned.”

“It took me awhile to see it, too. Every single one of those calls is within fifteen miles of town. We’re right in the middle of a neat little circle of weird-ass OD cases.”

The look he gave me was one of frank admiration. “You put all this together yourself?”

I shrugged, trying not to look smug. “Valeria Diaz from Melville phoned me up last night.” I looked down at the table, suddenly finding it difficult to meet his gaze. “She… she brought one of these in, and wanted to know if I’d had follow-up on Sam Jenkins. Which I hadn’t, at that point, except for the lab results from the twin cities. So I got curious to know if anyone else had seen anything like it, and I made a few phone calls.”

Terry set the paper on the table. “When you say you hadn’t gotten a follow-up at that point, can I take that to mean you’ve obtained one since then?”

“So glad you asked,” I said. “I called both hospitals right after I talked to the EMS services. Neither one of our patients claimed to have any recollection of the last eighteen to twenty-four hours prior to the 911 call. Whatever else this is, it’s a retrograde amnestic, except I’ve never heard of one that impairs such a large time period.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient. What’d they do for testing on that second one we did?”

I could feel my face turning sour. “They were going to send his bloodwork out, but his insurance doesn’t cover it.”

“Figures.” Terry drummed his fingers on the table. “What about the others?”

“Nobody else I talked to has heard anything back, and they probably won’t. You know how it is; you only get follow-up if you ask for it. Val’s patient got flown out, so we won’t hear anything back on that. He was in a coma, and they don’t expect him to wake up.”

“Damn, that sucks. How old?”

“Sixteen.”

“Jesus fuck. Are any of the others that bad off?”

I shook my head. “Not that I know of.”

Getting up and making his way to the kitchen, Terry popped open a high cupboard. “What’ll you have?”

“I thought you were on call.” I thought it best not to add that I’d heard that bit of news from Halee.

“I swapped shifts with Lori. What’ll it be?”

“Whatever you’re drinking is fine.”

Terry selected a bottle of bourbon. “Who else knows about this?” He got out two matching glasses and filled them with ice.

“I just now worked it out,” I said.

“So why tell me? Why not take it to George Fronse or somebody?” He poured the drinks as he spoke.

I stared at him, wounded. “Maybe because I wanted to run this by somebody first, and I thought we were still friends. My mistake.”

I started to rise. Terry set a drink on the table in front of me and placed a hand on my shoulder.

“For Christ’s sake,” he said, “don’t be so damn touchy. Have a drink.” Our eyes locked. I was overreacting and I knew it. Goddammit, I’m just so fucking tired and confused. I sank back into my chair.

“What we are and are not,” Terry said, his hand still on my shoulder, “isn’t a conversation I’m willing to have right at the moment. I’ve been your boyfriend, I’ve been your lover, and I’ve been your friend. You haven’t made any of it particularly easy. My door is still open to you… you might consider taking that as a good sign.”

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. Tears threatened, and I was damned if I’d let them fall.

Terry sat down and held up his glass. “Cheers?”

I touched my glass to his, and Terry took a long swallow. I put my drink to my lips in anticipation; Terry always has the best liquor. I tried just a little, then followed it with some more. I closed my eyes, letting it roll around on my tongue.

“Holy crap,” I said, “I’m not even going to ask how expensive this is.”

A ghost of a smile played across his lips. “Probably better that way.” His finger roamed the map. “I think you’re onto something here,” he said. “I wonder if anyone else has made the connection.”

Grateful to put the personal exchange behind us, I considered that for a moment. “I doubt it. Not because I’m Sherlock Holmes, but because I don’t think anybody else has all of the pieces. I transported Jason Bixley. I saw two other cases. And I still don’t think I’d have put it all together if Valeria hadn’t called me last night.”

Terry looked doubtful. “A few of the docs have to be getting curious, though… don’t you think?”

I smiled a tight little smile. Terry is smart as hell, and pretty well tuned into the local wavelength for a man who has lived urban for most of his life, but his perspective on the region’s hospital system is still limited at best.

“What you have to realize,” I said, “is that the cases are divided up between four dinky little country hospitals with level three or four EDs. Most of what they see is geriatric problems; you know that. Anything serious gets transferred out. Each place has seen one or two cases, and it’s probably a different ED doc in every instance. The labs are fucked up, but the tox screen comes back negative. The patient can’t remember a damn thing. What do you think is actually going to happen?”

“Fair point. All of which cries out to me that this would be a really good time to spread the word. Cops, hospitals, and EMS medical directors.”

I nodded. “I’m working tomorrow. I’ll talk to our medical director, make some phone calls, and maybe see if the sheriff’s office will send a deputy over to talk to me.”

“We could call up George Fronse right now. He is, after all, the Grand Almighty Poobah of the indefatigable Bronning police department… and judging from your map, I’d say this just might be a Bronning problem.”

I tried to keep a straight face, and failed. Then I sobered somewhat as a sudden realization penetrated my mind. I don’t want to talk to George about this.

“It’s kind of funny to hear you, of all people, suggesting that we should go talk to George about anything,” I said.

Terry sipped his drink and smiled. “I have nothing against George, you know. The man is an epic square, but I respect the hell out of him. The entire police force here in town is him and a part-timer, and he makes it work on top of heading up the fire department and helping out on the ambulance. If by some happy miracle the stick were to fall out of his ass, I’d be delighted to sit down and have a drink with him. Except I doubt he drinks. Hell, eating is probably too vulgar for him. It might lead to pooping, and I don’t think his sense of propriety would stand for that.”

Our eyes met, and we both cracked up. I took another sip of the wonderful drink. Terry polished his off, and got up out of his chair with glass in hand. “One more?” he asked.

I handed him my glass. “I didn’t want to ask. I have to think whiskey that good comes in a decanter laced with flakes of gold.”

Terry poured the drinks with a smile. “Let’s just say that booze of this caliber requires a manager’s key at the liquor store.” He handed me the glass and sat back down. “George is the logical guy to start with, but you seem less than enthused about bringing this to him. Why?”

I looked at my hands. “I’m not sure,” I said. “He seemed… I don’t know… off somehow when he was interviewing me about the Bixley accident. Kept hesitating, seemed really uncomfortable. It was weird. And then —”

“Wait a second. You didn’t mention that to me at the time.”

“Because it was probably nothing,” I said, clamping down on my irritation. “And because I was annoyed at you for needling him, I guess. You guys just barely get along as it is, and you were pouring gas on the fire.”

“Did I mention that you don’t make anything easy, ever?”

I held my temper in both hands, wondering just who the hell I was angry with. I rubbed my eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry. But then there’s the way he just magically appeared at that call in Roers.”

Terry’s eyes widened. “Almost like he knew they were related.”

“Yeah.” Sipping my drink, I leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “But that’s crazy. I mean… Jesus, I’ve known George my whole fucking life, Terry. I was a flower girl at his wedding when I was five. I helped with the potluck when he became Chief of Police. He’s… well… like you said, he’s a square. But he does more for this town in a month than most people do their whole lives. I can’t seriously believe he’s mixed up in anything hinky.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve only known him for four years, and I can’t either. But you’re right, it’s fucking bizarre.”

“Did he show up at that call on 225?’

Terry spread his hands. “Yes, but so what? That was an overdose call just a couple of miles from town. I’d have been surprised if he hadn’t shown up.”

“Yeah…” Something was tickling at the back of my mind. It came to me all at once, and I pushed myself out of my chair. Tugging my phone from the pocket of my jeans, I leaned against the wall and opened my texts.

“It wasn’t an overdose call,” I said.

“Say what?”

“Well, it was… but if I remember right, that is not what you got paged out for. Give me a sec.”

I found the thread in which all Bronning calls were sent to my phone as voice texts, and scrolled back to Monday. Finding the right one, I hit play.

“Franklin County to Bronning Ambulance, please respond to 13242 State Highway 225 for a twenty-year-old male with an altered level of consciousness, your time is 1333.”

Terry got to his feet, and came to stand beside me. “I’m an idiot, and you’re Nancy fucking Drew.”

“You got paged for altered LOC, not an overdose,” I said. “George comes to help with those if they’re right in town and he’s not busy, but since when does he go out of town for them?”

“Punch me in the balls and call me stupid,” said Terry, “because it never even occurred to me. By the time he got there, I knew I had an OD patient in front of me, and I didn’t stop to think about the page he was actually responding to.”

I straightened, and our eyes met. “We still need to talk to him,” said Terry. “If you talk to the Sheriff’s department tomorrow, the first person they’re going to call is George, and then he’s going to want to know why you didn’t come straight to his office. Besides, we’re most likely jumping at shadows here.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “Yeah… I guess you’re right.”

“Tell you what,” he said. You go to work tomorrow and talk to everyone you were planning to talk to. Once the kids are in school, I’ll go talk to George.”

“Is that a great idea? You guys aren’t exactly best friends.”

“Noooo… but, to be blunt, I’m much better at gauging people’s reactions than you are, and at choosing my words. If either one of us is likely to get an inkling of whether we’re onto something or not, it’s me. And if he is actually involved in something here, we have to be damned careful.”

I nodded. Much as I hated to admit it, I knew he was right. “I have to work in the morning,” I said. “I’d better go home and get some sleep.”

“Yeah, you’d probably better.”

He really isn’t going to invite me to stay. I’m not sure I’d have taken him up on it if he had; the situation with Halee had changed the dynamic quite a bit for me. All the same, by not making the offer, Terry was drawing a line that had never existed between us before, and oh dear God did it sting.

He walked with me to the foyer, standing in silence as I put on my shoes. When I straightened, he put a hand on my arm.

“I am still your friend,” he said.

I put my hand over his and squeezed, then let go. Not trusting myself to speak, I gave him the best smile I could manage, nodded once, and slipped out the door.

On to Chapter Seven!