Date: Tue, 06 Mar 2007 12:40:22 -0500 From: kathyannekan@aol.com Subject: Melinda, My Love The following story contains sexual scenes between an older woman and a young girl. If this offends you, please don't read it. This is purely a work of fiction. All characters and situations are fictional. All rights reserved. If you like it or have any pointers for me, feel free to email me at kathyannekan@aol.com. Enjoy! Melinda, My Love By Kathy Anne Neimann Carrie Newton signed her name to the piece of paper and folded it. She slipped it in the envelope and sealed it with a little heart sticker, just as the bell rang. Her heart jumped up into her throat as the class stood up to leave. Carrie stood up as well, hiding her envelope behind her back, putting on her stentorian teacher's voice. "Don't forget, guys," she said. "Read chapter three tonight. We're gonna have a quiz tomorrow!" There were the requisite groans and profanity. Carrie smiled at it. She'd done the same thing when she'd been a student here thirteen years ago. Before everyone could leave, though, Carrie spoke up again. "Melinda Walters, can I see you for a second, please?" Melinda, who was just at the door, hugging her books to her chest, deep in important conversation with her best friend Julie, stopped on her toes and turned around. Her short skirt ballooned out with the movement and her blond pigtails flipped jauntily around her head. She weaved her way through the rest of the class and approached Carrie's desk with a spritely little walk. "Yeah?" she asked. Her braces glinted briefly, and Carrie watched Melinda's tongue move every time she opened her mouth to chew on her wad of gum. They never let me have gum when I had braces, Carrie thought to herself. Times must have changed. Carrie quelled the butterflies in her stomach, and pinched herself as hard as she could on her right ass cheek as she raised a leg to seat herself on her desk. She'd worn her khaki pants and her semi-sheer white blouse today, even though she always envisioned that she'd be wearing a skirt. Maybe the long, pleated dress. The low cut one. "I want to give you something," Carrie said. She could hear her voice quavering. "It's kind of special." Melinda smiled. Carrie's heart fluttered even more when she saw those braces. How cute. "What is it?" she asked. Carrie slowly pulled the envelope out from behind her back. "I..." she started. She caught her breath and started again. "I want to ask you something, but I can't ask you to your face. I need to do it like this." Melinda's spindly little fingers plucked the envelope out of Carrie's hand and she put her books down on Carrie's desk to open it. Carrie spared a look at the girl's chest. She was wearing a tight, blue t-shirt that had a picture of a little rabbit on it. Carrie could make out the outline of the girl's training bra underneath, and wondered briefly what color it was. Her heart jumped again as Melinda opened the envelope. Carrie felt like she was going to puke, and checked to make sure the garbage can was exactly where she'd put it just in case. Melinda pulled the little card out of the envelope and opened it. Carrie knew the words by heart, even though she didn't have the courage to bring a voice to them. Melinda, I've been watching you since the beginning of the semester. I think you're a very special girl, and I want to get to know you better. Would you have dinner with me tonight? Miss Newton. Time stopped as Carrie watched the girl's eyes move back and forth across the words. When she was done reading, Melinda looked up at Carrie, who had folded her hands together and was cautiously chewing on her thumbs. "Is this for real?" asked Melinda. Carrie nodded. "I really like you, Melinda." Melinda's cheeks flushed, but her face betrayed confusion. "Do you mean, like, a date?" Carrie nodded again, eyes expectant, stomach cart wheeling. She checked the proximity of the trash can again. Melinda flushed more. "Miss Newton," she said, "I don't know if..." "Shh." Carrie said. "It's just dinner. Just a date. We'll go out and have dinner, and we'll walk around a little bit and then I'll take you back home." "What am I going to tell my parents?" "I'll talk to them," Carrie said. "I'll explain that my intentions toward you are completely honorable and I wish you absolutely no harm in the world." "Yeah, but..." "I'll tell them how much I admire you. Your sense of humor, your beauty, your youth and... Do you know what joie de vivre means?" Melinda was chewing on her bottom lip, an act that Carrie found intensely erotic. How she wanted to kiss that lip. How she'd been fixating on this moment, this girl, for so long. "No," the girl answered. "It's French," Carrie told her, picking at her fingernails. "It means lust for life." "It's pretty," Melinda said. Carrie breathed deep, exhaled slowly. "I can't tell you how long I've been watching you, waiting for this moment. I look forward to third period English as soon as it's over. As soon as I watch you walk out the door, I can't wait to watch you walk back in." Melinda smiled, and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I look for you in the halls," Carrie continued. "I scan up and down the halls for the briefest glimpse of you." Again, Melinda blushed. Carrie put a tender hand on the side of the girl's face, "Don't be embarrassed, sweetie," Carrie told her. "You're a beautiful little girl, and you'd make me the happiest woman in the world if you said yes." When the girl looked up, her clear blue eyes were tearing, her lip trembling. "Okay," she said. Now Carrie's heart leapt again, this time in joy, not anticipation. She stood up and brought the girl into an embrace, her own eyes tearing up a bit. "You've made me very happy," she said. Carrie could feel the girl nod. Eventually, she broke the embrace and sat back down on her desk, wiping tears away from her eyes with the back of her wrist. "Can I pick you up at seven?" Melinda nodded. "Okay," Carrie said. She caressed a few strands of the girl's blond hair and made herself fold her hands in her lap. "I'll see you then." The girl smiled and picked up her books, hugging them to her chest. "See you then," she said, and walked out of the room. Once the door closed, Carrie rolled herself off her desk and fell to her knees. She only just reached the trash can and only just pulled it to her before she puked. She held the can to her with one hand and her hair back with the other. Her breakfast ejected into the trash can and she sat on her knees for some time before she allowed herself to think about standing up. Fourth period was a planning period for her, and she was glad for that. She was going on a date with Melinda Walters. The sweetest little girl in the seventh grade. She wiped off her mouth and pulled the bag out of the trash can. She made her way through the crowded halls to the staff bathroom. She locked the door behind her and dumped her trash into the garbage after tying the bag tightly. She washed her face off in the sink. Face clean, she looked into the mirror. She looked young for twenty five, and she loved the fact. She had always cherished youth and beauty, and especially young girls. Young girls with tight blue t-shirts, the kind that were so tight you could make out the training bra underneath. Young girls with braces and precious blond pigtails. She unzipped the fly on her slacks and slid a hand inside her panties. She masturbated herself to an intense orgasm and almost collapsed with the force of her climax. When she recovered, she straightened her clothes and hair, and calmly walked out of the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, her feet barely touching the ground. Since she'd been Melinda's age, Carrie Newton had always known she liked girls. They were so soft and pretty and the boys were so ugly and stupid and dumb. She'd lost her virginity to Shelly Adams, another girl in her class, behind the dumpsters at this very school when she'd been a grade above where Melinda was now. They'd kissed and masturbated each other to climax, and then hadn't said much of a word to each other afterward. Carrie always thought Shelly had been embarrassed, but Carrie never felt that way. In high school, Carrie joined the drama club and bedded every girl who would let her, which turned out to be quite a lot. Carrie's father was never around much, and her mother was a drinker, so Carrie always had access to alcohol and weed. The girls liked her because she seemed older than she was, and she liked the girls because, well, they didn't have penises. When she went to college, out of state, she bedded her dorm roommate the first week they were together. She made the rounds in the dorm, and she was quite popular with the other girls who were just out of their parents' house, ready to experiment with life. It was her junior year of college when she had her first underage girl. Hillary, her name was. The girl went to the high school across the street from Carrie's college campus, where Carrie had recently spent a lot of time hanging around. Hillary was a freshman in high school, only just fifteen years old. She'd taken her back to her dorm room and coaxed her out of her clothes and into her bed. Carrie never forgot that experience. Never forgot the way the girl was too shy to take off her panties. She hadn't wanted Carrie to look at her crotch, or touch it, or anything. Carrie always thought that was the cutest thing she'd ever experienced, and ever since then, mature girls never did much for her. She wanted youth, she wanted inexperience, she wanted innocence. When she graduated from college with a degree in Education, she moved back to her home town, back into her parents' house, until she could find a job. She was thrilled to get a posting to the same junior high she'd gone to. Her first day there, she visited the dumpsters where she'd lost her virginity to Shelly Adams. It was heaven for her, around all those nubile bodies, those sweet little things just at the cusp of life, the beginnings of adulthood. Not wanting to jeopardize her position, she stayed away from seducing her students, so she stuck mostly to the malls, where she spent many an afternoon searching out sweet little things to love. And then, into her third period English class walked Melinda Walters. Those long, coltish legs, those sweet little arms, the braces, the cheeks, the hair. She fell in love almost instantly, which was something of a new experience for her. All the women and girls she'd bedded, all the hands and fingers and dildoes she'd had inside of her, and she never once was convinced that she was in love. That all changed when she got to know Melinda. This girl was funny and cute and innocent all in one. She was the kind of girl who would grow up to be a beauty pageant queen or a TV news anchorwoman. She wasn't classically beautiful yet, but in a few years time, she would be. In college, if she'd met Melinda, Carrie would have just turned on the seduction and bedded her right away. When the cute little blond had come into her life, though, she didn't want just sex, she wanted a relationship. A bond, a lasting understanding. She stayed awake nights thinking about dating the girl. She knew people would give them funny looks, but she didn't care. If this was what love was, then there was nothing that could stand in the way of it, as she'd heard in countless power ballads on the radio. Love. The very idea of it was scary and exhilarating at the same time. It was something that Carrie Newton wanted more than anything in the world. She pulled up to the house at six forty five. It was a small, one story house a couple of blocks from the school. The lights were on in the living room, and there was a red Dodge Neon in the driveway. Carrie took a deep breath and stepped out of her car, straightening her skirt as she did. She'd decided to go with a long pink and white striped skirt and heeled boots with a white sweater. She'd put on makeup and her best pair of earrings (which had been given to her by a girl she'd known in college, the one who was into water sports and piercings). Again, the butterflies came to her stomach as she strode up the walk. "Be calm," she told herself. "Be an adult. Talk sensibly to them and they'll understand." She tried to believe that the words calmed her, but she realized that she was only trying to make herself feel better. For all she knew, Melinda's parents were bible thumping Republicans who would run her out of town on a rail for her audacity. "Eyes on the prize," she told herself. "Love will conquer all." With that thought in her head, she rang the doorbell. She heard movement inside and toyed briefly with the idea of just running away. Before she could move, though, the door opened on a woman who appeared to be a few years older than Carrie, dark haired, wearing slacks and a red blouse. Her eyes were striking, but not as striking as her enormous chest. Well into the double D range, Carrie reckoned. The woman pushed open the screen door and held it open for Carrie. "You must be Miss Newton," the woman said. "Call me Carrie," Carrie answered, holding out her hand. The woman took her hand and shook it carefully. "Becky," she said. "Becky Walters." Carrie smiled charmingly. "Pleased to meet you." Becky's return smile was a little more pinched than Carrie's, but polite. "This is my husband, Richard," she said. Carrie turned around and faced a shortish man, thinning blond hair, mustache, muscular, but skinny. "Carrie," she said, holding out her hand. Richard looked a little more dubious about taking Carrie's hand, but eventually did, nodding formally and uncomfortably as he did. "Won't you have a seat, Carrie?" Becky asked. "Sure," she said. Becky shut the door and led the three of them into the living room, which was decorated in traditional trappings, two couches facing a large screen TV. There was a piano in the corner and a plate glass door that lead out to the backyard, which was dark. They seated themselves on the couches, Becky and Richard on one, Carrie on the other. There was a long, awkward moment as the three sat staring at each other. Carrie could tell that neither of Melinda's parents were willing to get the ball rolling, so she started in on the speech she'd been rehearsing to herself for the last three weeks. "I suppose you're wondering why I'm interested in your daughter," she said. Richard nodded severely. "The thought had occurred to us." "First off," Carrie began, "I want you to know that I'm not some kind of pervert. I'm not out to hurt your daughter or humiliate her or ruin her or anything. On the contrary, I want to protect her from such things just as much as you do." Neither of Melinda's parents were impressed. Carrie cleared her throat. "I'm a lesbian," she said, "although I don't really identify myself by that. Let's just say that I'm a woman who enjoys the companionship of other women." "Girls, you mean," Becky said and crossed her arms across her enormous breasts. "Girls," Carrie said, "Sure. You see, I've gotten to know your daughter pretty well over this semester and I know that she's a special little girl. She's funny, she's extremely bright, and she's beautiful. I love seeing her smile. I get a rush whenever I see her in the hallway. She's an extraordinary young woman and I want to be part of her life, even if it's a small part." Richard rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Putting aside the fact that you're her teacher, which brings up a whole list of ethical issues, you realize you're also a pedophile." Carrie shook her head. "A pedophile is someone who is obsessed with young children, and usually wants to bring them to harm. Hurting Melinda is the last thing I want to happen. My intentions toward her are completely honorable. I'm not a pedophile, Mr. Walters, any more than I'm a lesbian. Like I said, I'm a woman who prefers the company of young girls." Richard wasn't impressed. "How old are you, Miss Newton?" "Richard!" Becky scolded. "No," Carrie said, holding up a hand, "it's okay. I'm twenty five." "That makes you thirteen years older than my daughter," Richard said. "I think that makes this a little inappropriate. Not to mention the fact that you're her teacher." Becky piped up here. "And the fact that she's not old enough to date anyone." Carrie smiled. "I'd understand if you didn't want her to date a boy her age. They're just raging bags of hormones. I'm a responsible adult with a respectable job and a good amount of education. I've never been convicted of a crime other than a few speeding tickets, and there isn't a violent bone in my body. I just want to take your daughter out to dinner, and then I'll bring her straight back home at whatever time you want. I'll give you my cel phone number if it will set your mind at ease. You can call as often as you want." Becky squinted at her, and hesitated. The three of them sat staring at each other for a few moments, Carrie fixing them with an expectant, adult gaze. Finally, Becky gripped her husband's hand. "Would you excuse us for a moment, Carrie?" she asked. "Certainly." Becky led Richard into another room through a swinging door. She could see the fridge on the other side of the door, could smell dinner cooking. She heard low talking that escalated into louder talking, although she couldn't make out any words. Carrie looked around the room while Melinda's parents discussed her worth. Truthfully, Carrie was fully expecting them to call the police and have her arrested, but it was a chance she was willing to take. For love. On the piano were framed pictures of Melinda as a progressively younger girl, going back to what must have been her first grade picture. Carrie was happy to note that the girl was just as beautiful back then as she was today. Her wonderful, bright smile. Carrie could tell why her parents had opted for braces for their daughter. Her face was beautiful, but her teeth were a little out of joint in the pictures. After what felt like a lifetime, the door opened and Becky and Richard came back out and sat down wordlessly on the couch. Richard cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together. "You see, Miss Newton," he started. "We didn't know until this afternoon that our daughter was even interested in boys. It's kind of a shock to hear that she's interested in women." Becky took over. "When she came home this afternoon and told us what happened, we didn't know how to take it. We wanted you to come over here and be some kind of hideous freak so we could call the cops and send you to jail." Richard again. "But we think you're for real. We think your intentions toward our daughter are honorable, and we believe you're a responsible adult. They probably wouldn't have let you become a teacher if you weren't." Carrie fought the urge to burst into a big smile. Becky spoke. "Also, Melinda is growing into a young woman, and we think it might be a good idea if her first experience with dating was with someone who was responsible and mature, man or woman, boy or girl." Carrie nodded. Richard again, "She's still young, and this might be a phase, but we don't want to stand in her way if she prefers women to men." Becky's turn. "We're going to let you take our daughter out tonight, but I want to keep tabs on you as much as possible, like you said." "No problem," Carrie said. She reached into her purse to grab a pen and scrap of paper. She wrote her number down on the back and handed it to Richard. "And know this," Richard said, face turning serious, "If anything happens to my daughter, so help me, I will hunt you to the end of the Earth and kill you where you stand." "I don't blame you a bit," Carrie said, unable now to hide the smile from her face. "I would do the exact same thing in your shoes." "Melinda, honey?" called Becky. Carrie heard a door open, saw a soft light in the hallway behind her. Within moments, Melinda appeared, dressed in an adorable, long white dress, punctuated here and there with print flowers. Her hair was down and curled, her face made up, and her fingernails painted. Carrie's heart almost melted right there, and she wanted nothing so much in the world than to pick this girl up into her arms and kiss her. "You look adorable, Melinda," Carrie said. "Thanks," Melinda said, embarrassed. Becky motioned her daughter over. "Come here, hon," she said. Melinda crossed the room and stood in front of her mother. "We're going to let you go out with Miss Newton, but I want you back in this house by ten o'clock okay?" Melinda nodded. "Okay?" she asked Carrie. "Ten o'clock," Carrie agreed, "not a second later." Becky knelt and fussed momentarily over her daughter's hair. Richard appeared transfixed by the girl, his eyes tearing. Carrie took the moment to reach up and pinch her nipples, to bring blood to them, make them hard. She always felt that she looked better with pokies, that most women did. She found herself wondering briefly what Becky's nipples looked like. Those double Ds had to be fake. Melinda pulled away from her mother and walked over to Carrie. "Are you ready?" Carrie asked. "Yep," she said, rocking back and forth on her heels. "Okay, let's go," Carrie said, and let Melinda by the hand to the door. Richard opened the door and let the two out. "Ten o'clock, now," he said. "Ten o'clock," Carrie said. "Ends of the Earth!" he called. Carrie laughed and walked around the car to open the door for Melinda. She waved good bye to Melinda's parents as she opened her own door and stepped inside. Once inside, Carrie breathed heavy and started the engine. "So what are you hungry for?" she asked. Melinda shrugged. "Italian?" Carrie smiled. "Done." She put the car into drive and let off her emergency brake. Before she took off, though, she turned back to the girl. "You really do look beautiful tonight," she said. Melinda blushed and smiled into her lap. "You do too," she said. Carrie felt like she could have warmed the whole town with the heat radiating out from her heart. They drove off into the night. Carrie drove them to the Olive Garden and they waited for ten minutes for a table. A pretty college aged girl who looked delicate enough to break over Carrie's knee sat them, and a husky, brown haired girl served them. Carrie ordered the salad and breadsticks plate, and Melinda got gnocchi. Not, she said, because she liked it all that much, but because she just liked saying the word "gnocchi." Carrie ordered a glass of wine, and a Coke for her date. When they arrived, Melinda was curious about the wine. She begged for a sip, using these doeish eyes that made Carrie want to melt right in her seat. She didn't let her date have a drink though, as much as she wouldn't mind getting the girl drunk. She'd promised her parents a responsible adult. If something happened later in the future, so be it, but tonight was about chastity and good company and companionship. "Do you think anyone here knows we're on a date?" Melinda asked. Carrie looked around the room, but couldn't see anyone watching them. "No," she said and sipped at her wine. "Do you think our waitress does?" Carrie shook her head. "She probably thinks we're sisters." Just before the food arrived, Carrie's cel phone rang, and she answered it. "Hi Carrie," came the voice of Melinda's mother. "Just wondering how things are going?" "Everything's great," Carrie said. "We're just about to get our food." "Where are you eating at?" "The Olive Garden." There was a pause on the other end of the line. "The one on Mitchell?" "No," Carrie answered. "The one across town. On Fifth." "Ah," Becky said. "That one's nicer anyway." "I think so." There was another pause. "Can I talk to Melinda?" "Sure." Carrie handed the phone over to the girl, who was already finished with her first glass of Coke and was looking around for the waitress to refill her. "Hi, mom," Melinda said. "No, everything's fine," Melinda answered. "Yes, mom," she said. "Yes, mom," she said. "A perfect little lady," she said. "Okay," she said finally, and handed the phone back to Carrie. The conversation over, Carrie put her phone away just in time for the food. They ate, they talked. By the end of the meal, and two glasses of wine, Carrie was feeling the slightest bit light-headed and decided she should cut herself off. She ordered a glass of water and breathed deep to clear her head. At one point in the conversation, Melinda looked up from her meal and asked, "How long have you liked girls?" Carrie paused, knowing this was a delicate matter. She put her fork down and answered evenly. "As long as I can remember." Melinda nodded. "Me too." There was a lull in the conversation, but Carrie could see Melinda choosing her words. "Have you ever been with a girl?" she asked. "I mean, had sex?" Carrie nodded. "Yes," she said simply. "Did you like it?" Melinda asked. "Yes, I did." Melinda nodded. "My parents think I'm too young to have sex," she said. "They're right," Carrie told her. "But you want to have sex with me," Melinda said, face delicate. Carrie paused. "I suppose I do." She gauged the girl's reaction. Melinda was quiet, staring idly at her gnocchi, pushing it around her plate with her fork. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" Carrie asked. Melinda shrugged her shoulders, but didn't answer. "What's wrong?" Carrie asked. "It's just," Melinda started, and then trailed off. She took a sip of her Coke and appeared to be gathering her thoughts. "It's just that all my friends talk about sex all the time but none of them have ever done anything. I think about it a lot, but I don't know much about it, either." "Are you scared of it?" "No, I'm just..." Again she trailed off. Now Carrie gathered her own thoughts. "Sex," she started, "is just a way that people express love for each other. It's the ultimate step in a relationship." She took a sip of her wine. "Or, it can just be about fun." She looked deep into Melinda's eyes and smiled with a warm grin. "And it can be a lot of fun." Melinda smiled. All this talk about sex was getting Carrie a little worked up. She noticed that her date was looking far away, into her plate of food. She looked up after a few moments and looked into Carrie's eyes. She leaned in and dropped her voice to a whisper. "I kissed Rebecca Merrick once." Carrie's heart fluttered, but she played it cool. "Really?" Melinda nodded. "At a slumber party. I think she thought we were just playing, but I enjoyed it a lot." Carrie smiled at her little date, so young, so innocent, so pure. "I think I want to kiss you, Miss Newton." Here, Carrie almost melted. She leaned in close to Melinda. "I think I want to kiss you, too," she said. "But we can't here. Maybe some other time." "I hope it's soon," Melinda said. "Me too," Carrie returned. They finished their dinner, and walked up and down the street once, window shopping. At one point, Melinda grabbed Carrie's hand and held it gently, and they walked hand in hand for a while. Carrie was only slightly worried about whether anyone would suspect that she and this girl were having what society would call an improper relationship, but it was only in the back of her mind. The only thing that mattered was the heat from the girl's hand in her hand, the way her dress swished when she walked, the way her curled hair bounced. She took her date home before the pre-appointed time, and gave her a lingering but proper hug at the door. Melinda's parents seemed relieved that their daughter was okay, and bid Carrie a friendly good-night. For her part, Carrie barely made it to the car. Her knees were weak and she felt like throwing up again. She started her car and drove it home, happy that she'd purchased an automatic instead of a stick shift. Having one hand free, she reached up her skirt and tucked her hand inside her panty-hose and masturbated herself almost to orgasm right there in the car. She only just made it home. Once there, she stepped out of her hose and started working at herself with her vibrator, all the time keeping the vision of her date in her head. Thinking about the girl's admission about the slumber party. Replaying the girl's words in her head, "I think I want to kiss you, Miss Newton." The orgasm left her shaking and quivering. It was only by sheer will that she was able to get up and get herself ready for bed. Once she was in bed, she masturbated again, and fell asleep thinking thoughts of Melinda. Things went well the next couple of weeks. Melinda and Carrie continued to see each other outside of school, but had to be careful about their affair in school. They passed notes to each other and Carrie laughed more than she had laughed in a long time. She and Melinda started referring to each other as "girlfriends." Eventually, the time came when they got some time alone together, and the memories of that night would keep Carrie happy for the rest of her life. Becky and Richard said they needed a weekend off. They planned to get a hotel room and just relax for a weekend. They asked Carrie to babysit, and she was only too happy to do it. Finally, some alone time with Melinda. She knew that Melinda's parents had asked her to babysit only because they trusted her so much, and because Carrie hadn't done anything improper with their daughter. They couldn't wait to get out of the house, and Carrie couldn't wait to get in. She had dressed simply. Jeans and white blouse. She'd pulled her hair back in a pony tail. Melinda greeted her at the door and gave her a big hug and a peck on the lips. The girl was wearing satiny looking black athletic shorts and a white, form-fitting tank top. Her hair was also done up in a pony tail, but she had put in little pink barrettes to decorate the top of her head. They watched TV for a while, nestled on the couch together. Carrie ran her fingers through Melinda's hair while the girl played with the drawstring on her shorts. They watched some Disney Channel show that Melinda said she loved about this family of people from the future. Carrie didn't pay much attention to it, caught up as she was with the scent and feel of her young companion snuggled up with her on the couch. It was warm and cozy there, and Carrie wished this moment would last her the rest of her life. When the show ended, Melinda sprang up and turned around to face Carrie. "Wanna see my princess dress?" the girl asked with a cheerful smile. Carrie, still twisting a strand of the girl's blond hair in her fingers, smiled and said, "More than anything in the world." Melinda beamed at her and jumped up, running in the direction of her room. The wait was interminable, but Carrie patiently flipped through the channels, idly scratching at the front of her jeans with her fingernails. Eventually, she heard a swish of fabric as Melinda entered the room. The girl had put her long blond hair up in a ponytail tied with a yellow satin ribbon and had clumsily painted her face with makeup, no doubt taken from her mom's room, but none of that was as interesting to Carrie as what Melinda had on. The dress was yellow, off the shoulder, with a satiny bodice. The skirt billowed out ridiculously, and the yellow taffeta underneath it swished when Melinda moved. Yellow satin gloves covered her hands and marched up to her elbows. The back was cut low, but stopped just before the small of Melinda's back. It fit her snugly, and was almost too tight. Carrie could see Melinda's bare feet and noticed the skirt was short and came to the conclusion that this dress must be a couple of years old. Melinda confirmed it. "My mom made this for me for Halloween when I was nine," she said, pivoting and twirling. "It still sort of fits," she added. "It's gorgeous," Carrie breathed, mesmerized. Melinda twirled around a little longer, dancing gracefully around the coffee table, and eventually coming to rest in front of Carrie. "Beauty and the Beast was always my favorite," Carrie said. "Mine too," Melinda agreed. She put a satin gloved finger in her mouth, and swayed back and forth like she had something she wanted to say. Instead of waiting for her, Carrie reached out her hand and Melinda grabbed it. She pulled the girl close, causing her to kneel on the couch facing her. Straddling her. Carrie ran her fingers through Melinda's ponytail and their faces neared one another. "I want to have sex with you Carrie," Melinda said. "I want to have sex with you too, sweetie," Carrie breathed. Their noses touched. Their breath was hot and musky, their breathing clipped and excited. "Will you teach me?" Melinda asked. In answer, Carrie went in to meet the girl's lips. When they kissed, it was electric. Carrie lost herself in the kiss and could only barely feel the girl moving on top of her. They shifted their hips in time with their breathing as Carrie explored Melinda's smooth back with her fingertips. They broke the kiss and Carrie explored Melinda's neck with her lips and tongue. The girl sighed and breathed and squeezed Carrie close to her. Carrie's hands moved to the front of the dress and her thumbs played over what would someday become Melinda's breasts. Melinda met her hands and helped her turn the top of the bodice down, exposing her chest. Carrie kissed the fleshy mounds and played her tongue over the nipples, which were really all there was to play with. They were stiff but flexible, just like Carrie remembered her own as being when she was eleven. She kissed Melinda's tiny pink nipples as her hands ran over the satiny fabric covering the girl's flat stomach and back. When she was done, Carrie leaned back on the couch, taking in her half-naked tween lover. "Let me look at you," she begged, and Melinda sat nervously on her lap as Carrie drunk in the girl's beauty with her eyes. After a moment, Melinda licked her lips and looked Carrie in the eye. "When do I get to see you?" she asked. "Whenever you want," Carrie answered. She grabbed Melinda's satiny gloved hands and guided them to the top button on her blouse. Melinda unbuttoned the first button and maddeningly slowly moved on to the next one. She continued like this while Carrie was held in thrall by the anticipation on the girl's face. The way she chewed on her lower lip, and the way her eyes never strayed from what her hands were doing. When the blouse was unbuttoned, she parted it and revealed Carrie's sheer pink lace bra. Her brownish nipples were clearly visible through the fabric. "Your boobs are beautiful," Melinda said. "I hope mine look like yours someday." Carrie laughed, having seen Melinda's well-endowed mother. "They will," she said. Again, she took hold of Melinda's hands and guided them to her breasts. Melinda played her fingers lightly over the lacy material, never stopping. She slid a finger inside one of the cups and played lightly with Carrie's nipple, causing waves of shivers to course up Carrie's spine. "Can I take this off?" she asked breathily. Carrie arched her back to allow Melinda access to the clasps. As the girl worked awkwardly with them, they kissed again, loving little pecks that brought smiles to each of their faces. When Carrie felt the bra release, she shrugged out of her blouse and let Melinda remove the bra. The girl took it, seemingly fascinated by it. Mockingly, she put it around her own ribcage, and struck a quick pose, beaming like a supermodel. "You look so grown up," Carrie said, eyes twinkling with playfulness. Melinda playfully threw the bra at Carrie's head and the two shared a giggle. When the wave of laughter passed, Carrie pulled Melinda into her again. They kissed passionately and Carrie repositioned themselves on the couch, laying on their sides, kissing and touching as they listened to the sounds of each other breathing through their noses. Smooth, bare skin warm and undulating. As they kissed, Carrie's hand crept lower and lower, caressing the satin material of the dress, ever so slowly gathering it up and revealing Melinda's coltish young legs. Eventually, the hem of the dress was high up on her thigh, and Carrie was tickling the back of Melinda's thighs. She came to the girl's butt and the cottony fabric covering it. When she started tracing circles with her fingernails on Melinda's right cheek, the girl stopped and pulled away from her. "Is that okay if I touch you there?" Carrie asked. Melinda nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Is this having sex?" she asked quietly. Carrie nodded. "Are you feeling uncomfortable?" "No," Melinda said, "I just wanted to know." She stood up and wriggled out of the dress, kicking it to the other side of the living room. As Carrie watched, tracing her hand up the side of her own ribcage, Melinda stood in front of her, clad only in her white cotton panties. There were elastic scallops on the waistband and little flowers on the fabric. Melinda stood in front of Carrie for some time while the teacher drunk in the view. Finally, Melinda reached down and started working on the buttons holding Carrie's jeans on. Working together, they removed Carrie's jeans and she was left wearing nothing but her sheer lace boy shorts that matched the bra she'd worn. Carrie sat up on the couch facing Melinda, her eyes just level with the girl's belly button. She put her hands on Melinda's hips and looked up into her eyes. "Do you want me to take your panties off?" Carrie asked. Melinda nodded hypnotically. Carrie hooked her thumbs and dug them inside the scalloped waistband, gingerly sliding them off her hips and to her feet. Melinda stepped out of them and let them lay on the floor next to Carrie's jeans. Melinda was bald and smooth and perfect. Carrie could hardly control the beating of her heart looking at the young girl in front of her. She placed a kiss on each of Melinda's hips, tracing her fingernails up and down her coltish legs. She kissed Melinda's mound, and relished the way her breathing quickened. "My turn," Melinda said, pushing Carrie back onto the couch. Melinda seductively kissed her way down Carrie's body to the waistband of her panties. The girl kissed the fabric of Carrie's panties for a while and then, almost without Carrie even realizing it, slid them off her hips. Carrie had given her nether regions a trim in anticipation of this very event, and couldn't get enough of her young lover playing her fingers through the trimmed auburn hair. The girl beamed at Carrie. "I like having sex," she said. "Me too," Carrie said. She grabbed Melinda's shoulders and pulled her face to face with her. "Let me show you something else," Carrie whispered. They kissed while Carrie worked her hand down toward Melinda's bald glory. She moved her middle finger up and down Melinda's slit, massaging her tiny clit and feeling the girl's wetness building. "This might hurt just a little bit, darling," Carrie whispered. "Why?" Melinda asked. "I'll tell you later," Carrie promised. "It's just a little sting, but it'll be the most delicious pain you ever felt." "Okay," Melinda said. Gently but firmly, Carrie pushed her finger inside her young lover. Melinda's back arched and her face squeezed with pain, but soon she relaxed and lowered herself back onto Carrie, spreading her legs, allowing the woman total access. They gyrated and moved together for some time. Eventually, Melinda's tiny body clenched with the delicious waves of orgasm, and she collapsed on top of Carrie breathing like she'd just run a marathon. Carrie let her young lover recover while she moved her hand to her own secret area, moving her hand up and down on her clit, letting a couple of exploratory fingers inside herself. "What do you want me to do?" Melinda asked. "Sit up," Carrie responded, and the girl did. "Just sit there and watch me play with myself." Nodding, Melinda did. That smooth, pink body resting on Carrie's thighs. Just the sight alone was enough to make Carrie want to come. "You can play with yourself too, if you want," Carrie told her, as she worked at herself. Melinda's hand crept down to her crotch, and she watched Carrie working, mimicking the movements, even the way Carrie's face and mouth contorted as she watched her young lover, her seventh-grade student, watching her. Without prompting, Melinda moved her hand over and entwined her fingers with Carrie's. They brought Carrie to the most intense orgasm she'd ever had. While Carrie lay there, recovering, Melinda pulled her fingers out and smelled them, smiling with the odor. "That was awesome," Melinda said. "You're awesome," Carrie retorted, again grabbing her girlfriend and pulling her close. They kissed again, hard and passionately. They spent the night on the couch, in each others' arms. They enjoyed each other several times during the night, and even the next day before Melinda's parents came home. Their relationship continued until Melinda graduated the middle school and started going to high school. They kept contact at first, but eventually went their separate ways. Melinda to her friends, and maybe boys. Carrie to the next beautiful young blossom that happened into her class.