Date: Mon, 01 Jan 2007 18:48:11 -0500
From: kathyannekan@aol.com
Subject: Jane and Nicole

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 kathyannkan@aol.com.  Enjoy!



	Thomas was half in the bag, and barely made it into the
room. "Fuck," he said.  Jane had just unzipped her black dress, the one she
saved for special occasions like tonight.  Special occasions like her
fifteenth anniversary of being married to Thomas Wallace.  Occasions like
this when Thomas would have one too many and get really amorous to the
point when Jane herself started to anticipate what would happen between
them when they got home.  Of course, on occasions like this, Tom would have
one too many, drive them home sloppy drunk and pass out on the bed,
woefully limp, and Jane would have to take care of matters by herself.  She
didn't know if Tom knew about her dildo, but she thought he probably
wouldn't like the idea of that too much.
	"Fuck, what?" Jane said, finishing unzipping her little black
dress.
	"The babysitter needs a ride home," Tom slurred.
	"But I'm getting ready for bed!" she argued.
	"Yeah, and I'm too drunk to drive any more."
	Too drunk to drive a fourteen year old girl home, but not too drunk
to drive your wife of fifteen years home.
	Jane knew she was stuck.  She zipped her dress back up and grabbed
her purse.  Tom had been playing with himself, lying there on the bed.
"We'll get down to business when you get back," he said.
	Jane shot him a half-smile.  By the time she got back home, he'd be
passed out on the bed still in his suit with his dick in his hands, and
she'd spend another evening squatting in the bathroom pumping her dildo
into herself, thrill of thrills.  "I'll be back soon," she said, hopefully.

	The girl was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, biting her
fingernail.  Jane had known Nicole since the girl's family had moved in up
the street six months ago.  Nicole had babysat for her and Tom several
times, and it wasn't like little Katrina was a handful.  Usually asleep by
nine, and totally zonked out until morning.
	"Sorry," Nicole said, "My friend Jenny was supposed to pick me up,
but she got in trouble at home."
	"No problem," Jane said, reaching in her purse for her keys.  She
put on the coat that she wore to dinner that night, still warm, still
smelling like cigarette smoke and garlic and the whiskey Tom had
accidentally spilled on it.
	"You look nice tonight, Mrs. Wallace," Nicole said.
	Jane had to smile. "Thanks, hon," she answered.  She took a quick
look at Nicole.  The girl was short, five three maybe.  Black leather shoes
over black and white striped tights.  Short skirt, black blouse, too much
eye makeup, hair done up in pigtails on the sides of her head.  All told,
the girl looked pretty nice herself.  Jane hadn't noticed much when Nicole
had arrived earlier that evening with rushing to meet their reservations.
"You look pretty nice yourself, Nic," Jane said.
	The girl smiled and cast her eyes on the floor.  "That's cool you
called me Nic," she said.  "That's what my friend Jenny calls me."
	Jane dangled the keys in the air.  "Shall we?"

	It wasn't black and white tights the girl was wearing.  Jane
noticed the moment Nicole sat down in the SUV.  They were thigh socks.  The
hem of the girl's skirt had hiked up while she reached behind her to buckle
her seatbelt.  Any higher and Jane would have seen way too north to be
comfortable.  Jane started the car and backed out of the driveway.
	"Did you have a good time tonight?" Nicole asked, making no effort
to adjust the hem of her skirt.
	"Mm," Jane said, shrugging.  She'd imagined it going a lot
differently, but really shouldn't have been surprised.
	"Katrina is a doll."
	"Thanks," Jane said.  "Yeah, she's pretty sweet."
	They drove the rest of the way in silence, listening to the smooth
jazz station they'd been listening to on the ride home.  Thomas kissing her
hand and saying how much he wanted to stick it in her tonight.  Thomas
weaving and swerving all over the road.  Kenny G on the radio.
	They pulled up to Nicole's house and Jane threw the car into park,
but Nicole made no move to leave the car.  There were no lights on in the
house, but the car was in the driveway and the porchlight was on.  Jane
cleared her throat.  "Everything okay?"
	Jane noticed for the first time that Nicole appeared uncomfortable.
"Everything's fine," the girl said.
	"Okay, well, I'll see you around then," Jane prompted.  She
wondered if the girl was waiting for her to get out and open the door for
her.
	"Um," Nicole started.  "Do you want to come inside with me?"
	Jane rolled her eyes.  Scared teenager.  "You want me to walk you
to your door?"
	"I'd rather you came inside the house with me," came the answer.
	"Why?" Jane asked.
	Nicole gave an uncomfortable wince.  "Because I'm wearing a pair of
your panties."
	At first, Jane wasn't sure she'd heard right, but then she realized
that she'd heard just fine.  The girl was wearing one of her pairs of
panties?  As if Nicole could sense the question in the air, she reached
down and pulled up the hem of her skirt.  Sure enough, there was her pair
of horizontally striped multicolored underwear that she'd bought last week
at the Victoria's Secret at the Valley Mall.  Three pairs for ten bucks.
	"Why are you wearing my panties?" Jane asked, terrified of the
answer.
	Nicole blushed and lowered her skirt.  She picked at her
fingernails while she answered.  "Truth is," she started, "I tried on a lot
of your lingerie tonight."
	"You what?" Jane asked, now starting to get pissed.  She just
imagined this little twit going through her underwear drawer.  Her bras,
panties, the negligee Tom had bought her.  Her slips, her hose.  This was
an inexcusable invasion of her privacy.
	"I'm sorry," Nicole said.  "I just couldn't stop myself."
	"I hope there was a good reason why you went through my stuff
tonight."  Christ.  Did the girl find the quarter bag that she and Tom had
been slowly working through?  The sheet of acid in her Junior year annual
that Tom didn`t even know about?
	"Sort of," Nicole answered.  "I kind of have a crush on you."
	"You have a...crush on me."
	"Yeah," she said, all the time picking at her fingernails.
	"I'm married, you know," Jane said, holding her left hand out, and
playing with her wedding band with her thumb.
	"I know," Nicole said. "I also know that you and Tom aren't too
close anymore."
	"And how do you know that?" Jane demanded.
	"Because I found your dildo too."
	"Jesus!" Jane yelled.  "Did you go through all my stuff?"
	"I'm sorry," she repeated.  "I just got curious.  I wanted to know
more about you.  You're so beautiful and stylish and...  I don't know."
	Jane sighed.  She knew what the girl was going through.  Lord knew
she'd gone through her own amount of girlhood crushes.  Never on any older
women though.  Not that the idea was repugnant or disgusting to her, she'd
just never thought about it.  Actually, the more she thought about it, the
idea was kind of flattering.
	"Look," Jane said.  "You're a cute kid.  You're sweet and pretty
and I'm very flattered that you're interested in me.  But nothing can
happen between us.  I mean, I could go to jail, worst case scenario."
	"Don't worry about that," Nicole said.  "I wouldn't turn you in.
Hell, I started all this."
	"Yeah, and this is as far as it's going to go."
	"Okay," Nicole said.  "I'm sorry."
	"It's okay."  Jane couldn't wait to get home and pour herself a
stiff drink, and then poke herself with her stiff dildo, and then pass out
next to Tom.
	"Would you at least walk me up to the door?" Nicole said.
	"Sure," Jane responded.  As long it ends this night quicker, she
thought.
	They got out of the car, and shut the doors quietly.  They strolled
up to the house, Jane's heels clicking a steady and purposeful
counter-rhythm to Nicole's thicker soles.  They got to the door and Nicole
put her key in the slot.  She turned around.  "Thanks for the ride," she
said.
	"No problem," Jane said, hand on her forehead, wishing above
anything else to get back in the SUV and back home.
	Nicole opened the door a crack.  "Um," she started, "do you want
your panties back?
	Jane weighed the pros and cons.  She should just give the girl her
panties, maybe give her something to remember her by.  But damn it, she
really liked them.  She liked the way she looked in them.  "Yes," Jane
said, quietly.
	The girl reached up her skirt and began shimmying the panties off
her hips.
	"Not out here!" Jane hissed at her.  "My god, I could be arrested
right where we stand!"
	"Sorry," Nicole whispered.  She opened the door and walked inside.
Jane followed.
	"Please tell me your parents aren't home," Jane whispered.
	"Oh, they are.  But they're dead to the world about now.  My dad
could sleep through a tornado and my mom wears earplugs so she won't have
to listen to my dad snoring.  Come on upstairs."
	"Look," Jane said.  "Just give me my panties and I'll go home."
	"Upstairs," Nicole demanded.
	Jane followed the girl up the stairs imagining scenarios from the
next ten to twenty years of her life.  Arrest, trial, conviction.  Maximum
security prison, God knows what else.  If she could just make this quick.
	They reached the door to Nicole's room and entered.  The girl
closed the door quietly behind them and turned on the light.  Jane was
relieved to find a normal teenage girl's room.  Justin Timberlake on the
wall, and small collection of CDs next to a boom-box.  Daybed with flowered
comforter, messy dresser with all kinds of makeup implements on top,
jewelry box, papers, notes, normal girl stuff.  Could have passed for
Jane's own room twenty years ago.
	"I'll be right back," Nicole said.
	"Where are you going?" Jane asked, alarmed.
	"I'm going to take off your panties and go to the bathroom.  I'll
be right back."
	"Okay.  Hurry," Jane said.
	Nicole left the room, and Jane was alone in the girl's room.  She
wandered toward the dresser, checking out the various items atop it.  At
some point, the thought came to her that maybe she should go through
Nicole's drawers.  One good turn deserved another, or so she was always
taught.
	She opened one quietly, and peeked inside.  T-shirts mostly, names
of bands that Jane had never heard of, and probably would be appalled if
she heard them.  She closed that drawer and opened another.  Socks, tights,
hose.  Jane allowed herself a smile.  Getting closer.  She closed that
drawer and opened the one to the left.  Bingo.
	Satiny bras, silky panties.  Cotton and lycra.  Elastic waistbands,
adjustable straps.  Thongs, briefs.  Red, black, white, ecru, even some
green and blue thrown in here and there.  Jane dug her hand in the soft,
slick pile of underclothes, sifting her fingers through them.  She dug her
hand in a few more times, feeling the wonderful sensations, the naughtiness
of it.
	Her fingers scraped across something at the bottom of the drawer.
She pulled it out, and looked at it.  It was a plain notebook, college
ruled, purple cover on which her own name had been lovingly scripted.  Jane
Wallace.  She ran her fingers over the letters, transfixed by the care
Nicole had taken with the lettering.
	Jane flashed back suddenly to her own childhood.  Her first sexual
encounters, years before she met Thomas, back when she was Jane Biggs.
When the boys called her Jane Bigg Tits just because she'd been the first
unlucky girl in her class to grow breasts.  When the girls were jealous of
her.  That slumber party over at Denise Germain's house when the other
girls made her take her nightgown off so they could look at her.  The way
their fingers moved lightly over the just-growing mounds of flesh that had
that dull ache about them.  The way she went to sleep that night with her
hand in her own panties, remembering the way the girls' hands felt on her.
Searing the memory into her brain so she'd never forget.
	She remembered the way she'd felt toward Denise after that night.
Was it something like a crush?  Something like the one this Nicole had on
her?  Nicole, who wasn't even a sperm when Jane had been at that slumber
party.
	Jane opened the notebook and looked inside.  The first page was
written on with a girl's wildly looping hand.  Jane skimmed down the page,
and her eyes fell on random phrases.  "I think I love Mrs. Wallace."  "bury
my face between her legs."  "smell her hair."  "put my fingers in her mouth
and make her taste herself."
	Jane flipped through the notebook, and found more of the writing.
	"can't stop thinking about her."
	"obsession."
	"Mom's Polaroid camera to her house tonight."
	Jane kept flipping and finally came upon a page, upon which had
been taped a series of Polaroid pictures.  The pictures were of Nicole,
Nicole in Jane's own bedroom.  Nicole wearing Jane's own lingerie, taken by
Nicole herself reflected in the mirror on Jane`s dressing table.  Jane's
bras didn't fit the girl well, and her panties looked baggy and ugly on the
girl's hips.  But the shot the girl had taken of herself in Jane's blue
satin nightie, the one Tom had bought her on their first anniversary, was
extremely fetching.  Something in the way the girl's eyes were half closed.
	Obsession?
	Hadn't Jane had the same thing with Denise so long ago?  It had
passed as naturally as a rainstorm, though.
	There was a picture of Nicole kissing the tip of her dildo, and she
understood that the girl had probably used it as well.
	She was startled out of her thoughts by a clicking sound behind
her.  She whirled around to find Nicole, naked as the day she was born,
shutting the lid to the CD player on her nightstand.  She touched the play
button and turned around to face Jane.  Dark, electronic music played as
the girl padded her way across the blue carpet.  Close, too close, to the
older woman.
	"Here," Nicole whispered.  She lifted a hand and hooked over her
index finger were Jane's panties.  Jane reached out and grabbed them,
wadding them up in her hand.
	Nicole looked down at her notebook with her Polaroids.  She pointed
to the picture she'd taken of herself in Jane's blue nightie.  "That's my
favorite too," she said.  "Do you want to dance?"
	Jane nodded, almost involuntarily.  Nicole took the notebook out of
her hands and set it on her dresser, then folded herself into Jane's
embrace.  Jane put her hands on the girl's back, felt her young muscles
moving under her warm skin.  She could smell the scent from the girl's
shampoo, she could feel the warmth coming from the top of her head.
	"Your door's open, Nicole," Jane whispered delicately.  Indeed, the
door to the girl's room was cracked, open about six inches.  The darkness
outside was intimidating, but exciting at the same time.  Who knew if
anyone was watching?
	"I told you it's okay," she said.  "They'll never hear us, they
won't even wake up."
	Jane flashed quickly to ten to twenty years in jail, but the image
faded quickly.  Frankly, at this point, Jane didn't much care.  She
caressed her hands up and down the girl's back, stopping just south of the
shoulder blades, just north of her butt.
	They orbited each other as the music pulsed around them.  Jane
watched in the mirror over Nicole's shoulder.  Watched them moving
together, watched the girl's tiny little butt shifting back and forth.  She
spared a glance into her own eyes, asked herself quickly if she realized
exactly what she was doing, and then told herself it didn't matter.
	She pulled out of Nicole's embrace and turned around, lifting her
hair up and looking over her shoulder at the naked girl.
	"Unzip me?" she asked.
	Jane felt the girl's hands moving over her back, up her shoulders,
down to the zipper of her black dress, the one she saved for special
occasions like tonight.  Special occasions like her fifteenth anniversary
of being married to Thomas Wallace.  Drunk and passed out, he was
relinquishing the opportunity to a fourteen year old girl who had a major
crush on his wife.  Fuck him, she thought.  He deserves this.
	She heard the slow sound of the zipper unzipping.  She felt a chill
on her back.  She shrugged out of the dress, let it fall to the ground.
	She stood in front of Nicole, who looked like she was about to
burst from excitement, dressed in her black bra, her black panties, and her
black garter belt with black thigh stockings.  All of which, this girl had
probably tried on.  This very ensemble, Jane thought, if she looked through
Nicole's book, she'd probably find a picture of.
	"I love this garter belt," Nicole said, hooking a finger in one of
the straps, snapping it back playfully.
	"Come to me," Jane breathed.  She walked over to Nicole's bed and
sat down, holding out her hands to the girl.
	Nicole walked slowly over to her, Jane watched the girl's hips
move, her breasts pendulate, the skin over her soft stomach shift.  She
grabbed Jane's hands and moved in close.
	They kissed.  Delicately at first, then more passionately.  Jane's
hand moved over the girl's bottom, the girl's hand moved back to unclasp
Jane's bra.
	Having freed Jane's breasts, Nicole bent down to take one in her
hand and the other in her mouth.  She suckled and nipped at one nipple as
she pinched the other.  Jane reached down and took Nicole's breasts into
her hands.  She kneaded and squeezed, and heard the girl's breathing
quicken.
	Nicole pushed forward, pushing Jane onto her back.  She kissed her
way down Jane's stomach to the waistband of her panties.  She licked once
or twice at the fabric atop her pubic mound, and then slid the panties off
her hips.
	Jane reached behind her to unclasp her garter belt, but Nicole's
hand's stopped her.  "Leave it on," she said.  "It's sexier with it on."
	Jane nodded and pulled the girl close to her.  They kissed, and
rolled around on the bed for a while.  Eventually, Nicole's hand made its
way to the place where Jane's legs met, explored the dark brown hair for a
while, and eventually found its way to the slick valley down there.
	Jane's own hand explored Nicole's nether region, but didn't stop at
the musky opening.  She continued on to the pucker behind it, and lightly
plucked at it with a fingernail.
	The girl's breathing paced up as Jane continued working, and Jane's
own breathing crescendoed as the girl worked first one, and then two
fingers as deep inside her as they would go.  Her thumb worked on the
stiffness between her lips.
	"I have wanted this for so long," Nicole breathed."
	Now, Jane moved her fingers to the wet opening between the girl's
legs.
	The two hugged in embrace as they worked their fingers in and out
of each other.  They breathed heavily, the blood rushed in their ears,
their cheeks, their chests.
	They worked for a while, and Jane was the first to succumb.  Her
body wracked with shudders, and when she collapsed, she was as fulfilled
and satisfied as she'd been in a long time.  Except for the fact that the
girl hadn't come.
	"Come over here," Jane said, grabbing Nicole's waist and swiveling
her around.  She spread the girl's legs and moved up between them.  She
kissed Nicole's face, her neck, her breasts.  "You've given me something I
haven't had in a long time," Jane said.  "I want to give you the same
pleasure."
	She grabbed the girl's hand, the one that had been inside her, the
one that had brought her to completion, and made a big show of sucking on
the small fingers.
	"Do you taste yourself?" Nicole asked.
	Jane nodded.
	"How does it taste?"
	Jane hummed low, rolling her eyes.  She could see the pleasure on
Nicole's face, and revelled in it.
	She moved down the girl's abdomen, and nuzzled against the downy
mound of dark hair at the bottom.  Her lips found Nicole's clit and she
kissed it.  Her mouth covered it, her teeth nipped at it.  She worked a
finger in Nicole's opening, then two, then three.
	Nicole's hips bucked and rocked.  She grabbed Jane's hands and
knitted their fingers together.
	Jane felt the shudders quaking through Nicole's body, and continued
until they stopped.  Squeaks of pleasure escaped Nicole's mouth and Jane
had to cover it with her own.  They kissed deeply, luxuriantly.
Eventually, Jane broke the kiss.
	"Do you taste yourself?" she asked
	Nicole nodded.
	"How does it taste?"
	"I've tasted it before," she answered breathlessly.  "On your
dildo."
	They lay together for a while, their sweaty bodies sticking to each
other.  Eventually, Jane stood up and started putting her clothes on.
	"Don't go," Nicole pleaded.  Exhaustion was clear on her face, but
her eyes were insistent.  "I want more."
	Jane put her bra back on, and stepped into her panties.  "Maybe
next time," she said.
	"When will that be?"
	Jane shrugged.  "I don't know.  Soon."  She bent down and kissed
Nicole's forehead.  She picked up her dress, climbed under it, and let it
fall.  She zipped up the back and picked up her handbag.
	"I want more," Nicole repeated.  "I need you."
	Jane smiled.  "You have me," she said.  "But I have to get home."
	Now Nicole smiled devilishly.  "Don't you want these?"  She held
her hand up, and hooked around one of her fingers were Jane's panties, the
Victoria's Secret ones, the ones that had started this whole thing.
	Jane plucked them out of the girl's hand and fingered them for a
while.  Finally, she put her fingers behind the front of them and put her
hand on the girl's crotch.  She masturbated the teenager with her panties
for a few moments, loving how the girl looked at her as she did.  Then she
pulled her hand away and brought it to her nose.  She breathed in the
girl's musk, and released the breath slowly.
	"Keep them," she said, and slinked out of the room.