Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2004 19:51:49 -0700 (PDT)
From: ybother1122@yahoo.com
Subject: Good Girl -2

DEAR NIFTY READERS,

This is a story about the sexual awakening of a young woman. If you
either; A) aren't into that, B) aren't old enough to be reading it, or
C) can't read, you should really stop here. If you liked (or hated) this
story, drop us a line at ybother1122@yahoo.com. Don't take anything you
read here too seriously, I certainly didn't.


Denise had been expecting an awkward conversation with Heather to start
ever since she dropped her off that night. She knew that what happened in
her bedroom could come back to haunt her in the worst possible ways.
Steven, her husband, wanted her to corner the babysitter the first chance
she got and make sure that she understood the stakes for them. She
decided not to; she felt that putting too much pressure on the girl too
early was a recipe for disaster. Denise gambled that the girl's curiosity
would win out over a misplaced sense of violation.

When Heather came over in the middle of Denise's off day, when there was
no babysitting to be done, she knew she was at a key point. Slow and
careful, she thought.

"Do you want something to drink, honey?"

"Please," the girl said. She was not making eye contact. "How's Danny?"

"He's fine," Denise said as she poured two glasses of iced tea. "He's
spending the day with his cousins at the zoo."

Heather took the glass and drained half of it in a long swallow. She
started to ask about Steven when the ice cream cone headache from the
near-frozen drink hit her full-force. She groaned and held her head in
both hands. Denise wanted to comfort the girl but held back, contact
wasn't a good idea right away.

"I don't think you came to talk about Steven and Danny," she said
carefully. "But we can talk about them if you want to."

Heather turned a bit whiter, then nodded.

"You have questions about last weekend?"

She nodded again, then finally looked at her directly, "I know that what
happened is...you know, touchy."

Denise sat down at the other end of the kitchen table.

"I know that people would take it the wrong way if they knew about it, so
I don't think we should talk about it with anyone else."

The older woman nodded, "People wouldn't understand, that's very
perceptive of you."

"I've still got some questions, though," Heather said. "I think we've got
to go through some things."

"Let's head into the living room and you can fire away," Denise said. The
pin is back in the grenade, she thought.

"OK," the girl said, already breathing more normally as they moved to the
large silk couch in the living room. "Can you get, you know, diseases
from doing that?"

"Using a vibe? No."

"My legs felt funny all the rest of that night..."

"Kind of shaky and unreliable?"

"Yeah."

"Totally normal."

"My friends say that using one of those will make you sterile, is that
true?

Denise laughed, "Untrue."

Heather gave a nervous smile, nodding. "OK. What happened there, you
know, at the end, was that an orgasm?"

"Yes."

"Then why don't I look different?"

Denise's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Chrissy said that once you start having those that you start to look
different. She says you know a woman's having orgasms because they glow."

"That's a saying," Denise said. "They used to say that a woman would
'glow' because she looked happy. It's a polite way of saying that someone
looks like they just came."

Heather digested that fairly easily, she'd long been convinced that half
of language was covering up for other language. "When is it going to
start showing that I'm, you know, gay?"

Denise had half-expected this line of questioning, "I don't know, what
does gay look like?"

"You know," she said. "Manly, with a bad haircut and flannel shirts."

"I guess I'm asking the wrong questions," Denise said. "Do you think you
are gay?"

Heather started twisting her hair and staring intently at nothing. "I
kind of liked what happened, and you're a gir-a woman. Doesn't that make
me gay?"

Denise reached out to the girl's chin, pulled her gaze back over and
smiled. "Do you still like boys?"

"Yes."

"Then you're not gay," she said simply.

"Is my mom going to be able to tell that I'm not a virgin anymore?"

This time the woman laughed, "You're still a virgin, Heather."

The girl was visibly shocked, it was an answer that she was not ready
for, "But we had sex, didn't we?"

"That's a thornier question," Denise said. "If you want to go by the
scientific definition, I never broke your hymen. You are still a
by-the-books virgin. Other people would say that we were having sex and
that changes everything and you aren't a virgin anymore. It all depends
on who you ask, but a doctor would say you still are."

Heather took another, more careful drink of her tea. "Why didn't you kiss
me? Was it my breath? I could understand because I ate the leftover
alfredo that night and..."

"It's not about that, honey," she put her hand on the girl's arm for the
first time in the conversation. "You wanted to know how the vibe worked,
and that's what I showed you. You didn't say anything about wanting to be
kissed."

"I just thought that was part of it," Heather said.

"Well, that was a night for trying new things. Kissing me isn't that much
different than kissing a boy. Except for the lipstick."

"Oh..." she returned to staring at nothing. Denise closed her eyes and
gently shook her head. "You've never been kissed before? A real kiss?"

Heather looked away, her chin shivering.

 

 

Denise reached over to Heather, took her chin in her hand and pulled her
close. The girl's first kiss was light, a tender brush on her lips to get
her attention. The older woman leaned in closer and kissed her again,
gently prying the girl's mouth open to admit her tongue. Heather made a
quiet "eep" as Denise's tongue probed her mouth, finding the girl's
tongue and coaxing it into action. Her hands drifted to Heather's
shoulders and pulled her closer so that the thin girl's chest pressed
against her own womanly bosom.

After a second, she broke the kiss and nuzzled the girl close to her,
planting kisses on her cheeks and forehead, "How was that?"

Heather was flushed. Her eyelids were half shut and she reflexively tried
to follow Denise's lips as they traveled over her face. The woman
acquiesced, allowing the girl to rejoin the kiss. She pulled Denise
closer to her, wrapping her arms around her and tracing her hands up and
down her back. Between them their tongues wrestled back and forth.
Heather was now making a soft keening sound, accentuated by her erratic
breathing.

Eventually she broke off the kiss, "How did I do?"

"You were wonderful," Denise said. "Do you want to do it again?"

Heather nodded and leaned in for another kiss. As they came together,
Denise closed her hand over one of the girl's small breasts and squeezed
gently through her t-shirt, eliciting a shiver and whimper from her. With
careful fingers, she ringed the small nipple with her fingers before
rubbing her thumb across it in a circle. The girl gasped, breaking the
kiss in her shock. Denise smiled and kissed her on the end of her nose.

"Heather, take off my shirt."

Heather started slightly, her eyes wide as she looked down at the older
woman's ample chest. Denise rolled the girl's nipple, traced her tongue
along her jaw before inserting the tip into Heather's ear. Her breath
came hot as she spoke, "I can't have sex with you if my clothes are on."

The girl's mouth went dry. She had no experience with sex beyond the tame
columns in her mother's lifestyle magazines. They didn't so much educate
her about sex as they expanded her vocabulary by avoiding sex. One of her
favorite words, "tumescence," came to mind unbidden. She knew (because
she looked it up) that it didn't apply here. She took the plunge. Heather
reached for the bottom of her employer's shirt and gently began to pull
upward, staring at the middle of her chest and the Central American
design on it. She closed her eyes as she pulled the neck over Denise's
head, opening them only once she had cast the garment aside.

Denise was braless, her large breasts and light pink nipples above her
flat stomach were exposed to the air. Heather stared, unable to think of
what to do next. Denise took the girl's hands and laid them on her flesh
and gently started to rub. Heather followed the motions, taking over when
the woman locked her hands behind her head.

Looking up for approval, Heather leaned in and began licking the woman's
breasts gently. Denise thrilled at the feeling of the tentative touches
of the girl's tongue. It reminded her of her older sister's friend, Loni.
The teenager would steal into her room late at night when she stayed over
on a weekend and explore every inch of Denise's young body with her
tongue. After the first incidents, when Denise had to be coerced into
action, she had turned to going to bed nude on those nights in
anticipation of Loni's visits.

But this would be different, Denise thought. She would never turn a cold
shoulder to Heather in the morning the way Loni did to her. She would
never use threats to keep the girl's silence. She would pay attention if
the girl went from moaning to sobbing.

Denise lazily reached down and pulled Heather's shirt up over her head
and thumbed her bra open with a single twist. The lacy white garment fell
away, freeing the girl's a-cup breasts. She pulled Heather away from her
chest, kissed her and fondled the small mounds. The girl squirmed and
cried as the woman locked her lips around her small dark nipples and
suckled. Her hands scrabbled against Denise's back, searching for
something to grip as her sensitive nubs were teased, licked and tugged
back and forth.

She reached down between the girl's legs and cupped her pussy through the
fabric of her shorts. As if struck by lightning, Heather's hips rocked
forward and her body went rigid. She let out a short, strangled cry and
slumped down, shivering and whimpering. Denise held her softly until her
breathing returned to normal.

"I-I'm sorry." Heather said after a while.

"For what?"

"I think I came too early...sorry."

Denise laughed, "That doesn't mean anything."

Heather looked at Denise, eyes moist and questioning.

"Kiss me," Denise told her. The girl smiled, and happily complied. She
kissed Denise, softly at first, then felt herself growing lightheaded.
Her breath warmed and grew more rapid. Denise reached for Heather's hand
and guided it to her full and heaving breast. "Mmmmmm," Denise moaned.
"That's nice." Then, "Kiss them. I want you to kiss my tits." Denise lay 
back on the sofa and Heather slid down to position herself over Denise's
abdomen. She began again to lick Denise's nipples, softly and
tentatively.

"Suck them, baby. A little harder. Yessssss, like that."

The longer the girl lingered at each nipple, the more Denise began to
raise her hips and grind against her.

Denise unbuttoned her shorts and squirmed beneath Heather to slide them
off.

"Touch me," she said.

Heather kneaded Denise's breasts, but Denise told her to move lower.
Lower. Lower.

"Touch my pussy," she said, as if telling Heather to go get her sweater
or to lock the door. Heather took direction well and slowly moved her
small fingers downward until they landed on Denise's neatly groomed,
narrow strip of dark blond hair. Denise pushed herself against Heather's
hand, and Heather was fascinated by the woman's warm slick soft folds and
neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Suddenly Heather stopped touching Denise.

"No, no don't stop."

But Heather sat up straight on the sofa and shook her head.

"I think I know what you want but I can't. I just can't."

"Why can't you?"

Heather was silent.

"Do you want to go? Do you want to stay and hang out? What's the matter?"

"It's not that," Heather said. "It's just...."

"What is it?"

"I don't know what to do," Heather said, her cheeks flushing and and
making her shame apparent.

"Oh, baby. It's OK. You're just fine."

Heather thought she would cry.

"Really, Heather. It's OK. Do you want me to tell you what I like? Do you
want me to tell you how?"

Heather nodded and sighed, relieved.

Denise knew she'd be starting from the beginning, and moved down to the
middle of the living room floor, flat on her back on the soft carpet.

"Come here," she told Heather.

Heather sat near Denise's knees and looked down at her, noticing her
tanned-all-over skin, her slightly soft belly. Denise's legs were long
and well formed, even if they were a little fuller at the thigh than her
45 minutes a day on the treadmill should allow.

"Do you want to touch me now?" Heather nodded and reached to put her
hands on Denise, resting on her thighs.

"Go ahead," Denise said. Heather moved her small fingers with their short
trimmed fingernails to explore Denise. She slid her fingers back and
forth along Denise's slick crevice, and listened as Denise's breath
became deeper and more rapid. She watched the way Denise nearly jumped
when she reached her sensitive and swollen clit, and she knew to back
off.

"Touch me inside," Denise told her. "Yes, just like that. Mmmm hmmmm. Now
two fingers, yes."

Denise didn't know what Heather was so nervous about. The girl either had
terrific intuition, or had spent a lot of time in her room alone. Heather
was surprised as well. She watched Denise's reaction - on her face, and
through her body - with every move of her fingers. She was ready for
more.

Heather stretched out on the floor and rested her head on Denise's thigh,
and watched up close as her fingers slipped back and forth over Denise's
wetness and slid inside. She could feel Denise getting even more swollen
and even more slick. And she felt powerful.

She could smell Denise's heat. What was that smell? Not quite musky, a
little like salt water. Oranges? Does she smell like oranges? Yes, a
little, thought Heather. At that moment, Heather had no choice. She had
to taste her. She moved her mouth closer to Denise, and lightly licked
back and forth along the slippery crease, exactly the way she had been
moving her fingers.

She heard Denise moan. It was a moan of pleasure but also something else.
Tension, perhaps. Frustration?

"A little harder. Make your tongue flat. Yes, like that," Denise's
instructions were steady and she tried her best - mostly successfully -
to conceal any hint of urgency. "Yes, back and forth like that. Mmmm,
yes, put your tongue inside. Mmmmm, yes, up....up....right there, on my
clit. Careful. Oh be gentle there. Ok now harder, circle with your
tongue. Mmmmm. Yessssssss. Don't stop. No no no don't you stop. Fingers.
Fuck me with your hands. Yes. Oh yes."

And in that moment the girl would have lived and died to lick that pussy.
She felt powerful and lost in the heat and in control of the woman
writhing under her mouth. In that moment she understood pursuit and the
power and pleasure of sex, and why people bind themselves to another -
she understood lust. As much as getting swept away and led to orgasm was
pleasurable, giving the gft meant power. Before it occured to her to back
off, to tease and delay the moment to hold the power just a little
longer, Denise was over the edge, thighs trembling and she was whispering
something in breathy, wimpery whining sighs.

Denise hadn't expected Heather to do it, but she did. Denise shivered and
moaned in dizzying ecstatic climax. Oh yes yes yes.

"Come here," Denise cooed. "Come here and kiss me."

The slippery-faced girl kissed deeply, breathing hard herself.

"Was that OK?" Heather asked, but knew it had been.

"Oh yes, baby girl. That was wonderful. Really wonderful."

Heather smiled.

 

"Never fails," said Steven Lindeman in his deep raspy voice. "Everyone
tries to steal my woman."

Heather's head spun around to see Denise's husband leaning in the archway
between the kitchen and the living room. As usual, he was wearing an
expensive double-breasted wool suit and silk tie. His long, dark hair was
pulled back in a brutal ponytail restrained by a slim gold cuff. His face
registered a mild boredom, as if he had been in this situation before.

Heather nearly leapt out of Denise's grasp, alternately reaching for her
clothing and trying to cover her nakedness. The older woman held her
firmly, keeping her from the former and within her arms.

"It's not what you think!" Heather blurted.

"And now you know my thoughts," he said calmly, "Impressive."

Denise stroked the girl's breasts as she held her close, "Steven,
remember when I told you about Heather's experience with my vibrator?"

"Yes."

This, of course, was an understatement. The story of the vibrator took
him as close to terrified as he had been since his junior high school
public speech class. He and his wife had talked about what it would be
like to educate Heather in their bed, but it had been pointless pillow
talk. As usual, Denise took idle banter and turned it into action. He
learned early never to dare his wife; he was pretty sure he hadn't dared
her to bed the babysitter.

"Turns out she had a lot of questions," she said calmly. "Now Heather,
don't be rude. Go and greet my husband properly."

The girl turned to look eye-to-eye with the woman she had just brought to
orgasm in total fear. It was more than she was prepared for to bed the
elegant woman she had idolized, standing naked before her husband was
beyond the pale. She nodded and rose, leaning down to pick up her
clothes.

Denise patted Heather's naked flank, "No, sweetness. Don't hide yourself
from him. Go to him as you are."

Heather stood up slowly, carefully covering her thighs and chest with her
arms as she did so. Denise stood behind her, taking her by the wrists and
pulling them away from her body. She nuzzled the girl's neck gently,
attempting to coax before she had to pry, "This is my husband, you can't
hide from him what you've given to me."

She pulled the girl's arms open, revealing her soft body to her husband's
gaze. Heather twisted, as if a shift in her shoulders and a crossing of
her thighs would erase her nakedness. With care, Denise guided the girl's
hands to her sides so that she lay completely open, and compliant, to
Steven.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand, lightly, dragging it
down along her neck to graze along Heather's ribcage and rest on her
hipbone. With his other hand, he cradled her head with his fingers laced
into her hair behind her ear. He looked into her eyes deeply, "If you
want to leave, leave now. If not, you can stay as long as you like."

She's like a piece of porcelain, he thought, push too hard and this will
end badly. Steven kept one hand on the back of her head as the other
drifted up from her thigh, along her stomach and rested the palm against
her small breast. Spreading his fingers, he was able to engulf it's
entire surface but did not grasp it. He let it rest there, her nipple in
the center of the palm, pressed softly, feeling the small nub resist and
then bend flat against the surface. The look of nervous ecstasy in her
eyes was like a rare wine, rich and flavorful. Nourishing, to be sipped.

Heather felt like a moth caught between two flames. Steven's eyes, dark
and intense, were a solid force pushing into her. When she leaned back,
she felt the soft scrape and wet heat of Denise's sex meeting her from
behind. Her heart threatened to pound through her ribcage. She couldn't
speak, although she did not try.

Denise reached down, took her by the back of her knee and pulled upwards,
hooking the girl's heel behind him so that Heather's nakedness pressed
against the soft rasp of Steven's tailored suit. She gasped and lurched
forward, her lips landing involuntarily on his neck.

She stayed there for a second before dragging her lips to his, kissing a
man for the first time in her life. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders
as she ground her hips against the growing ridge in the front of his
pants. At the same time she realized what she was doing, Denise laid a
flurry of kisses along her neck, "Now be a good girl, undress Steven."

Heather carefully unwrapped the knot in his tie and pulled it away from
his neck. As she worked, Denise carried away each piece of clothing to a
chair on the side of the couch. His shirt, undershirt, shoes and socks
were away when Heather stared intently at his belt. The older woman took
Heather's hands in hers and unfastened the belt, pulled it to the floor
and began to remove Steven's pants.

 

Oh, for crying out loud, just look, thought Heather. You've seen one
before. Of course it was Danny's bath time and he's just a little boy.
What she was expecting was something pink and perfect, perhaps sprouting
from a small, soft, dark patch of hair. She was excited and horrified
when she discovered she was wrong.

Heather watched out of the corner of her eye as Denise dropped to her
knees and licked and stroked Steven. Holy shit, he's not even all the way
hard yet.

Denise stopped, turned to look at Heather, who was still afraid to stare,
as if it would be disrespectful to watch Denise give her husband a blow
job.

"You might want to pay attention to this. You're next, and he's very
particular about head." Denise grabbed Heather's wrist and pulled down
until the girl kneeled beside her in front of Steven.

Denise then focused her attention back on the half-hard cock, and
Heather, with expressed permission to stare, did.

She watched as Denise kissed Steven's abdomen, and buried her nose in the
mass of dark and course hair below. Just like Heather remembered sniffing
a plate of warm cookies, Denise drew in through her nose a long, deep
breath. That can't smell as good as cookies, can it?

Heather watched Denise as she ran her tongue along the underside of
Steven's now fully turgid member. Heather was fascinated with it. It
looked nothing like she thought it would. It was bigger than she had
expected, although she had no idea if he was well hung or not, having no
frame of reference. All the same, he knew he was. It was darker - now
almost purple, and Heather stared at the veins and ridges and the way it
seemed almost to be looking at Denise when her face hovered over it.

When Denise's tongue reached the tip of Steven's cock, she circled his
nearly blue head. It reminded Heather of a puppy sitting pretty, bouncing
and whining until master tossed down a treat.

"Your turn," Denise said.

Steven looked down to watch as the girl took over for his wife.

Her breath was warm on him and she hesitated long enough that he wanted
to grab her head and push her mouth onto his cock.

Finally. The tip of her tongue was on his shaft. Tell her how I like it,
he thought, and on cue Denise whispered into Heather's ear, telling her
to use a flat tongue, like when you lick ice cream. Touch his balls, she
said. Hold them in your hand. You don't have to be gentle, she said.
Heather followed Denise's instructions, but backed away when Steven
pushed himself toward her. She knew he wanted something else, but wasn't
sure how to give it. She turned to Denise, and her eyes asked: Help?

Denise understood. She took the head of Steven's cock into her mouth, and
slowly pushed her mouth down on its shaft. Heather looked up at Steven,
as he closed his eyes. She heard him half-exhale and half moan. Or growl.
Or some sound she had never heard and couldn't quite identify, but she
knew it was good. She wanted him to make that sound for her.

She paid close attention as Denise took more and more of Steven into her
mouth. She watched as Denise's hand joined the dance with her mouth, and
how every time she drew her head back, her hand would stroke behind it,
in a sort of circular fashion. Denise closed her eyes and drew in air
through her nose as she took all of Steven into her mouth. How can she do
that? wondered Heather. She was about to find out.

Denise stopped.

Heather just looked at her, waiting for her to continue, but Steven
grabbed a handful of Heather's hair, and pulled gently. She tried to
emulate Denise's actions, but she didn't think she was doing very well,
because Steven never let go of her hair. She could feel his hand on the
back of her head, and he kept pushing deeper into her mouth, until she
felt herself gag, and he backed off. But he still didn't let go of her
hair.

Denise took over again, and again handed the duty back to Heather. Then
Denise. Then Heather. Then Denise. When Heather had taken as much of
Steven into her mouth as she could, she heard him breathing hard, but
could not get him to make the sound. She listened so closely for the
noise she could barely hear Denise whispering into her ear, telling her
what a good girl she was, what a good cocksucker she could be. She felt
Denise's warm breath on the back of her neck and she felt Denise's soft
skin pressing against her back. Denise wrapped her arms around the
Heather's waist, and one of her hands reached up to hold Heather's right
breast. Denise held tight to Heather but Heather barely noticed.

She looked up toward Steven's face. Did it look the same as it did when
Denise had her turn? She didn't know that it no longer mattered, there
was no stopping what happened next.

Heather eyes widened and she choked as her mouth was filled with warm wet
something. Oh my gawd. Oh my gawd. Oh my gawd. What the hell.... What was
that taste? Salt? Sprouts? Her cheeks puffed out and she looked toward
Denise. What do I do now, begged her eyes. Denise slapped her hand over
the girl's mouth. With one hand over her mouth and the other on the back
of her neck, she gave the order.

"Be a good girl and swallow."


Please contact me at ybother1122@yahoo.com