Date: Tue, 10 Aug 2010 00:43:36 +0200 (CEST) From: Teresa Yam Subject: A Little Bit of Comfort (category: lesbian encounter/authoriarian) A LITTLE BIT OF COMFORT We were parked up in a side street at a discreet distance from Samantha's night club. Within the next hour what remained of the late-night revellers would be tumbling out onto the pavement and a few of them no doubt into the road too. It was a cold night and I told my partner, PC Mark Chambers, to keep the engine running and the heater going to stop us steaming up and freezing to death. We'd come on duty at 22:00 the Friday evening before and were detailed to prowl the town for drunks and trouble-makers. The temperature had been continually dropping as night progressed into early morning and frost was beginning to sparkle on the pathways under the glare of the streetlamps. It was now just gone 01:00 and we weren't due off until 06:00. Neither of us was looking forward to another five hours of freezing cold with nothing to do. But the extra allowance for a few graveyard stints would come in handy at Christmas. It had been a fairly quiet night in the city for a change and I was bored, thinking there were a thousand other places I'd rather be than freezing my butt off in the dead of night with a male police constable, waiting for something and probably nothing to kick-off. I didn't fancy Mark because I'm not wired that way, but I wouldn't have minded him keeping me warm on this particular night. It was a shocker, much colder than it should have been for mid December. Two weeks ago I'd split from my long term girlfriend, Sally, who had decided to call it a day after three years, saying we were going nowhere - why did we have to go anywhere at all if we loved each other, for heaven's sake? But I knew the real reason was she'd probably just met somebody else who pressed all her right buttons and I became yesterday's news, so I guess it was a one-way-love affair as far as me and her were concerned. I still ached for her and was feeling pretty raw and upset about it all. My feet were kicking fish and chip wrappings around the passenger footwell of the car, because we'd both been too lazy to get out into the cold and bin them after eating at about half-past ten, so there they stayed, stinking out the car with vinegar and chip fat. "Fancy a hot dog?" Mark said. "Christ, Mark... Don't you ever stop eating?" He was always moaning about feeling hungry. Young, full of himself, sometimes crass, but always, always hungry. Typical bloke, he was okay really. "Was that a yes, or no?" he said, looking at me. "Go on, then. I'll blame you for my extra pounds this Christmas. Here... take this lot with you." I handed him our rubbish and watched him walk over to the late-night hot food stall where he binned the fish and chip wrappings in a wheelie and ordered the hot dogs. He was good-looking boy, 23 years old and only one year on the force. He was ego-driven and naïve, but he'd be all right. I was seven years older with eight years of service under my belt, but still only a WPC. I could have made sergeant, but I preferred to be out and about to being stuck behind a desk and decided not to do the exam after all. But this was one night I would have preferred the desk to the great outdoors... a warm office and a nice cup of tea. Mark returned with the hot dogs - his one oozing tomato ketchup. He handed me mine and shut the door. "It's a bloody waste, you know, Julie." I knew what this was leading up to. It was a favourite line with the men I'd worked with on the force, so I humoured him: "What, all that tomato sauce dripping onto your uniform, you mean?" "Oh Christ!" "You're a mucky sod, Mark. Here..." I handed him some tissues from the glove compartment. "Or the fact that I'm gay?" "Yes, that... It's no secret is it? It's such a fucking waste." "I don't think it is." "I mean you're a good-looking girl, Julie, you could have any bloke you wanted." "Thanks for the vote of confidence, officer." "You know what I mean. You're a fit lady. It's a crying shame that you don't like men." "I like them, I just don't fancy them. Anyway, I've heard it all before, Mark. So spare me a lecture, will you? That's the way I am." "And so you've never been married or anything?" "I was married for about a year... a long while back now." "What... before you realised you were..?" "No, I knew a long time before that what I was... when I was still at school in fact." "So what... you just like thought you'd give it a go... going straight?" "Sort of, yeah. But it was getting and being married mainly, the respectability thing. I was driven by convention, of what my parents, family and friends expected of me. I thought it might work out." "But it didn't." "I was living a lie. He was nice enough and we got along really well. It was just the physical thing that didn't work. And I couldn't do without that." "Yeah? Well, if I'd been born a girl I think I would still have fancied women too." I laughed... and so did Mark. It was refreshing to see his lighter, warmer, witty side, even if it was coated in grease and tomato ketchup. And then suddenly, our cosy little chat was interrupted by a commotion coming from the club. There seemed to be a scuffle in the doorway, then spilling into the street. There were raised voices and lots of swearing, male and female. A girl screamed and somebody fell onto the pavement. "Let's go, Marko," I said, stuffing the remainder of the hot dog into my mouth. "Better nip this in the bud." Crumbs flew out of my mouth against the windscreen. Mark gunned the car, spinning the front wheels and careering down the street. He intended to pull up at the curb outside the club 100 metres along the road. That was the idea, anyway. What actually happened was, he locked the wheels on the frosting surface and skidded on past by at least five metres. It kind of spoiled the impact we were hoping to make. "Nice one, partner!" I said. "Shit!" "Yes... that too!" He backed up and we got out, the freezing air stinging our hot, embarrassed faces. A beefy doorman had hold of a young man by his collar, while a slight girl with dirty blonde hair flailed at him with her arms. She was screaming at him incoherently. Another girl with dark cropped hair and tattoos on her bare shoulders was swearing at her and having to be restrained by a second doorman. What was it with young people these days? Didn't they ever feel the cold? There wasn't a jacket or coat between them and it was a brass monkey's night. As Mark and I got there some more youngsters spilled out through the door and began joining in with the argument, hardly helping the situation. Within ten minutes Mark and I had helped calm everyone down and sent them on their way. No harm had been done, apart from a few bruised egos and hurt prides, although one of the girls seemed to have acquired a black eye and the young guy she was laying into had a scratch mark down his face which was weeping blood. The other girl with the tattoos had also had her face scratched down one side, but only superficial -- there was no blood. We could have run them in, but it would have been a waste of time. The kids might have been fighting, but they were as thick as thieves with each other when it came to accusations and pressing a charge. They lived by the code of the street and they sorted their own problems and very rarely split on each other. It was best to just try and diffuse situations before they got out of hand and move the culprits on. Most times it worked, just occasionally there'd be something more serious like a knifing and we would have to act decisively and accordingly. They all eventually dispersed, one small group going in one direction; and the other, the two girls and the young man in the other direction. The small blonde girl, the one who'd appeared the most upset of all of them, went up the street trailing behind the guy that seemed to be have been the main target of her anger. The dark-haired girl was walking in the same direction as them, but had crossed over to the opposite side of the road. The blonde girl was still going at it, swearing at the both of them, of which the main phrases that were discernable were: "You're a two-timing bastard, Ricky," and "She's a fucking slut," by which we assumed to mean her of the cropped hair and tattoos. Mark drove slowly up the road keeping a safe distance from them, but also watching keenly to see if anything kicked off again. At one point we lost sight of them when they turned down a side street. We turned down the street we assumed they must have gone, but they were nowhere to be seen. We cruised slowly past a row of shops and there in a doorway was somebody squatting with her underwear around her ankles. We stopped right outside. "Move up a bit, Mark. She's peeing. Let her finish in private for Christ sake." "We could do her for indecent exposure." "Don't be a pratt. She's just caught short, that's all." "Well, I know how I'd feel if I was the shop owner, doing it in my fucking doorway." "Yeah, I know. But the girl's obviously stressed out. We'll wait a moment and then I'll talk to her." "Want any help?" "Nah, it's cool. Girl stuff, you know..?" Mark smiled, shaking his head. When I thought our little Miss Sweet Pee had finished I got out and walked back. I could see her through the angle of the shop window - a men's outfitters -- shimmying back into her knickers. A stream of water was beginning to spread out from the doorway across the pavement and into the street. By the time it reached that far it had already began to congeal and turn into ice. "You all right, love?" "Eh..? Oh fucking hell... it's you lot again." "'Fraid so." It was the little blonde girl. She looked even smaller in the shadow of the doorway. I switched the flashlight on so I could see her better. Her little face looked hardened by too many knock-backs. There were tracks of drying, freezing tears on her cheeks, and mascara smudges around her eyes to compliment her bruised one. "Turn that bloody thing off, can't you. You're blinding me." "Sorry." I did so. "Just wanted to see if you were all right. Your mates legged it then... left you on your tod?" "Dunno, don't fucking care. Bastards..." "Good mates then. Look, it's a cold night. Have you got far to go?" "I ain't got nowhere to go right now." "What? I mean, where's your home... your parent's place?" "Don't live there no more. I moved out." "So where do you live now?" "Bleedin' nosey, ain't yer?" "Just concerned." "Fucking boyfriend's chucked me out now. I got nowhere to go." "Was that him who you were mad at?" "Yeah. And that fucking bitch." Things were starting to make sense. "What about if we take you back to your parent's house?" "Can't. They don't live round here. Anyway, I told you... I've moved out... for good." "Well, you can't just wander around the streets all night." "Why not? I've done it before." "I bet you have. But I bet it wasn't on a godforsaken night like this was it?" "What's it to you, anyway? Why should you worry?" "Look, I tell you what -- I'm Julie, by the way -- why don't we run you back to the station and you can have a nice cup of tea and warm up a bit and we'll try and sort you out a bed for the night? Personally I'm perished and I've got all my warm clobber on. I could murder a hot cuppa myself." "You arresting me?" "No... Not unless you want me to?" "You got any ciggies back there?" "I'm sure we can find you some. So, do we have a deal then?" We went back to the station and had some tea and got thawed out. Mark made some toast while I talked to Kimberley -- she eventually told us her name. She was very anti and negative about things and didn't like the police at all. I did have some sympathy for her and other kids like her. I'm sure they didn't set out in life with the intention of being at war with society. It wasn't their fault. There were many reasons for the breakdowns and problems in life, particularly family breakdowns, and not many of them solvable. In the end Kimberley agreed to come back and stay with me for the night. As it was coming up to my official meal break time, I took the opportunity of running her back to my flat which was about fifteen minutes drive away. She sat quietly, but nervous and fidgety, looking out of the window at the city lights. She didn't seem in the mood for talking and I didn't press her. I wondered if I was doing the right thing by taking her back to my place, but there was little alternative at such short notice, apart from spending the rest of the night in a cell, and she certainly didn't need that right now. I made her a black coffee, fixed her up with a pair of my pyjamas (which swam on her), set her up in the spare room and went back to work, saying I'd see her later in the morning when I got back. The rest of the shift was uneventful, apart from helping a drunken middle-aged man get back on his feet after falling into the gutter in the High Street. I got home about six-thirty and checked on Kimberley. She was sleeping soundly. It was cold in the flat; the heating was timed to come on about an hour before I got up, midday. I brushed my teeth and went straight to bed. I was cold and tired. I lay there thinking about the job, me and Mark, the new recruit, Janine, my ex and finally I thought about Kimberley and what had happened that made her so angry at life. She was only an 18 year old kid and already it seemed she'd had her hopes and dreams crushed. She was still on the threshold of life, yet through her eyes there was nothing to look forward to, no prospects, just a void of wretchedness and hopelessness. I felt sorry for her, but also a kind of comfort knowing she was in the flat with me for a few hours. It was even more comforting knowing it was a young lady, albeit a tearaway. Something woke me up. I looked at the clock. It was seven-thirty and starting to get light. I'd only been asleep for half-an-hour. "I can't sleep," said a voice at the door. And then I remembered I had a guest. Kimberley stood there shivering in the half-light, arms wrapped around herself, swamped by the too-big pyjamas I had given her. She looked like a waif and stray. I couldn't help feeling a little maternal towards her. I'd never felt like that in my life before. "I can't sleep and I'm fucking freezing," she said, taking a step closer. "Don't you have any heating in this place?" "I don't normally put it on while I'm sleeping. It comes on about midday when I'm on late shift." She took another step and I noticed her toes twiddle. Her toenails were painted purple or maybe black. It was difficult to tell. She was nibbling at her bottom lip. "Could I come in with you for a while... just till I get warm?" I smiled. "If you like. I feel quite cold myself as it happens. We can keep each other warm." "I'm not lezzy though," she said. "I don't want you to think that's why I asked..." "Course not, Kimberley. Well..? Come on then, you'll catch your death standing there." She smiled and hopped in beside me, leaving a gap of about six inches between us. I reached down under the covers for her hand. She took it away. "Don't. I told you, I'm not like that." I wanted to snuggle up to her, but I didn't want to frighten her off. She was still very twitchy and mistrusting. "You can come a bit closer if you like, Kimberley. I won't bite. We'll hardly get warm like this." "I'm all right as I am thanks." I could sense the nervousness and tension in her body by her stillness, the stiffness of her inert body. I told myself not to rush her, to see what transpired naturally. I felt for her hand again. This time she let me hold it. I could tell she was in need of a little bit of comforting. Her hand felt small, cold and vulnerable inside mine. Out of the blue she said: "I've never met anyone like you before, Julie." "What do you mean?" "You're kind... and sort of soft. Nice" "Thank you. Didn't you expect me to be?" "You're the police, aren't you?" "So, because I'm in the police did you think I'd be... not kind then?" "I don't know what I expected... but not this. The police... well me and my friends we..." "You don't trust them, right? Is that what you're trying to say?" "Yeah, I s'pose I am. They're always on our case. We can't do anything without someone on our backs." "I'm sure that's not quite true." "Yes it is. Your lot are always against us, watching everything we do. We can't go nowhere without being spied on. All those CCTV cameras everywhere. Gives me the creeps, I tell you." "Is it just the police or authority in general that gets up your nose?" "People telling us what we can and can't do. Yeah, it's all that stuff. Not you personally. You're different somehow." "I think you'll find I'm not the only one who cares about things... the community... the world we live in." "You don't know what it's really like for us though, do you? You've probably got a nice family. I bet you never had to live out rough." I felt her body move. "You can hold me if you like. But don't start thinking I want to do anything." I folded her into my body until she was kind of sitting in my lap. I felt some of the tension go out of her. She moulded herself into me, shuffling her bony little bottom until she felt comfortable. She was a skinny kid, no more than seven stone I guessed. I reckoned she could've done with a decent meal or two inside her. I put my arm around her. "What will your boyfriend think about you not going home with him last night? Won't he be worried about you?" "Fuck him. I don't care anyway. He treats me like shit." "Is that how you got your black eye?" "I ain't saying that, am I?" She sounded defensive. "I'm just asking, Kimberley. If you don't want to tell me about it that's fine." "Well I don't, so let's move on. You got any ciggies lying around?" "What, you want one right now... this early in the morning? I still want to sleep." "I always like one first thing. I'm dying for a fag, Julie. And I can't sleep anyway." "Well, don't mind me, will you? I'm shattered. I could sleep for a week. Anyway, you should know about the dangers of smoking in bed, young lady." "What..? You worried I might burn a hole in your fancy bed covers or something?" "They're not fancy. There's nothing fancy about my home or me - full stop. I'm just pointing out a fact. That's how house fires start." "Don't worry, I'll be careful. Go on, you can spare me one fag, can't you, Mrs Police-Lady?" "No, Kimberley. Anyway, I don't have any. I don't smoke... not anymore. And you'd be better off leaving it alone if you want to see old bones." "Old bones? That's the last bleedin' thing I want to see." Kimberley huffed. "See, now you're doing it." "Doing what?" "Telling me what I should and shouldn't do. You're just like all the rest." "I'm only thinking of you." "Yeah, right. You're worse than my mum... keep moaning." "Sorry... I guess that's the maternal coming out in me. Anyway, you're exaggerating a bit. I make that the first time I've had a moan at you since we picked you up last night." "What about at the police station?" "That was just questions, routine. We have to know about you. We were concerned for you... that's all." "If you say so. Come on, Julie... cuddle me." "What?" "Give me a hug. Don't you want to?" "Of course. I'm just a bit surprised, that's all." "Why?" "Because..." I just stopped myself from saying: because she had already put me straight about her sexual orientation before she got into bed with me. I didn't want to accentuate the negative by reminding her. "It doesn't matter... Come on then, sweet-pee." I snuggled up and gave her a big motherly hug, before settling into a mutually comfortable lying position. I kissed the back of her head. I couldn't help it. She didn't seem to mind. Her hair badly needed a wash, it smelled stale. My pyjamas she was wearing were all loose around her. Her body felt so small and fragile inside them, quite a contrast to her tough exterior and acts of bravado she put on. Street girls were like that. I guess they had to be; otherwise they didn't survive out there. "I wish my mum was more like you." "Why do you say that?" "You're nice... and kind. You understand things - seem to anyway. When I was living at home, she was always on at me, never hugged me. She wasn't there much anyway. Always out with some bloke or other, or working." "People have to work. What about your dad?" "Haven't got one." "Everyone's has a dad, Kimberley..." "Well I haven't. Least I never knew who it was." "Oh, I see..." I bit down on my tongue. "You poor love." "My mum never kissed me neither." And in that moment, I really felt for her. Her pain sliced through my heart like a rusty blade and I wanted to hold her, hug her and kiss her and give her all the things that were missing in her life. My eyes watered. I snuggled in closer and started stroking her hair. It felt matted and dirty. "That's nice what you're doing. Don't get any ideas though." "Needs a bit of a wash, young lady." "Are you saying I smell or summink?" Just about hiding the emotion in my voice, I said: "Well, I wouldn't say you're as sweet as a rose right at this moment, Kimberley. There's room for improvement, I'll say no more than that. Later on you can have a long deep soak in a hot bubble bath. I've got some nice perfumed oils you can put in the water." "Sounds a bit poncey to me." She giggled dreamily and yawned, adjusting herself, but relaxing more, sinking down into my lap and the bed. She felt warm now against me. "Don't you want to smell fresh? It's nice to pamper yourself once in a while, don't you agree? And afterwards I'll cook you something... proper food. What do you say, sweet pee, hmm?" Kimberley didn't answer. She had fallen asleep in my arms, her warm breath feathering my wrist. Her cute little rattling snore was the only sound in the room. The sun was up, throwing a hard white beam through the narrow gap in the curtains. I lay there for a while just thinking about Kimberley, the affection I was beginning to feel for her. It was quite strange. Then I began thinking about her in a different way... the way that was most natural to me, until I could no longer keep my eyes open and I too had joined her in sleep. I took in a cup of tea for Kimberley round about one o'clock. I was already up and dressed. "There's a couple of digestive biscuits for you too." Kimberley stretched out and yawned. "What's the time?" "Just gone one. You didn't have to be anywhere today, did you, sweet-pee?" "Not that I can remember. It is Saturday, isn't it? And why do you keep on calling me `sweet-pea'?" "I thought you'd never ask. It's just something that came to me after seeing you in that shop doorway last night." "Oh shit... Did I actually..?" "I'm afraid so. So it's not P -- E - A as in green; it's P - E -- E as in yellow. And because you're basically very sweet, it's `sweet-pee'." "Very funny." "I like it. Kind of suits you. Listen, I'm going to run a nice hot bath for you. I'll put some nice bubbles and scented things in the water and you can have a good soak. Then I'm going to sort you out some clean underwear. I've put yours in the washing machine. They were disgusting, and your bra was all grubby. You need to take more care of yourself." "Yes, Mum." I laughed at her wit. "Can't I just lie here all day? I'm knackered." "No you can't. I've got to go in to work this evening and I'm not having you lazing around in bed all day." "Can I still stay for a while?" "Until you sort yourself out, yes. But in the meantime you'll earn your keep. If you haven't got a job to go to, you can do one or two things to help me out." "Like what?" "A bit of housework possibly. I don't know, I'll think of something. The point is, I'm not having you dossing around all day doing nothing." "You asked me back. I might not stay long." "I did ask you back, but that doesn't mean I'm going to let you take advantage of me." "Great, you've changed your tune since last night." "Come on, get that tea down you. After you've had your bath and got dressed, I'll make us something to eat. Egg and chips all right?" "S'pose so." "Good, because that's all I've got in at the moment." I ran the bath and added bubbles and some nice scented oils. "That should do the trick," I said to myself. I found a bath towel and hung it over the heated rail for her and left her to it. I went to peel some potatoes for the chips. I was just about to put them on when I heard her calling from the bathroom. "What is it, sweet-pee?" "Will you do my back. I can never get round to it." "Give me the sponge then." "This is real luxury, Julie." "I thought you'd appreciate. A good bath is good for washing away worries and starting afresh." Out of the blue she said: "I've never done it with another girl before." "What?" "I've never done lezzy before." I tried to hide my astonishment, not at the fact she never had, only that she had raised the subject herself. "Well, there's always a first time... for everything." "I didn't think I would want to... you know?" "Life's full of little surprises, isn't it?" "I've never thought I was lezzy, I mean I do like boys, but now, meeting you... I'm all confused." "Well, if you like boys and girls you can have the best of both worlds, can't you?" "You always seem to say nice things, Julie." "More luck than judgement I promise you." I soaked her back and sponged it, and then proceeded to do the rest of her, all her little nooks and crannies. She giggled and took it all in good part. "You'll shine like a new pin, sweet-pee." Finally I got her to stand up, let the water out and started to towel her dry, pampering her with its fresh softness. "Ooh, that's lovely and warm." "It's been over the towel rail." It was then I noticed the tears in her eyes. "Will hold me for a moment, Julie? I'm shit scared." I took her in my arms and held her close with the towel wrapped around her. Then I slipped a white cotton singlet over her temporarily, until I could find her some fresh underwear. I could feel her trembling and her heart thumping as I smoothed it around her body. "There's nothing to be scared of, sweet pee. You don't have to do anything you don't want." "I do want. I'm just worrying it will all go wrong. I don't know what I'm supposed to do." "Well, in these situations it's best to follow your instincts. Do what comes naturally." "Can I leave it to you..?" "If you want. I'll just gently guide you." I kissed her and for the first time since we'd met her mouth came open and we kissed with our tongues. She kissed me with such fervour and desire I thought she would snap my neck with her hand. In the end I had to break to get my breath. "Well, sweet-pee... where did that come from." "I just felt like it. I don't know what you must think of me." I hugged her again. "I think you're a lovely girl beneath all your toughness. You just needed a little TLC to bring it out, that's all." It was difficult to believe the aggressive streetwise kid that Mark and I had taken back to the station was the same person as the soft, delicate little girl I now held in my arms. She felt like a bag of bones and I feared if I squeezed her too hard she would break. I lifted her out of the bath and into my arms and carried her to the bedroom. She smelled sweet as a rose now. Her face was soft against mine. It was like carrying a child, she was light and fragile as a leaf. I laid her on the bed and the vest slid up, exposing her little pouting slit, complete with a wisp of honey-brown hair. I restored her dignity before she realised anything, although the gesture seemed a bit pointless, considering what I had in mind for her. Everything about her seemed small, in miniature. I had the overwhelming urge to go down on her right then, having just glimpsed her pussy. But I resisted, it was too soon. I wanted to woo her, even tease her a little, making it fun for both of us. "Why did you cover it? Aren't you going to lick me? Isn't that what lesbians do?" "Among other things... yes. Is that what you want?" "I don't know. How can I know? I think I might like to try it though. I just a bit frightened, that's all." I sat down on the side of the bed, adjacent to her thighs. "I've told you, sweet-pee, there's nothing to worry about and I won't rush you. The fun is in the getting there as well. Let's enjoy the journey." I smoothed the vest over the tops of her thighs. She seemed more relaxed with me now, allowing her legs to separate so that I could slip my hand in between her slim thighs and stroke her there. I caressed her white legs all the way down to her feet. Then I raised her right foot and brought it to my mouth and kissed the purple-tipped toes. Thankfully she wasn't ticklish. I have a thing about feet. I love them. Kimberley's feet were pretty and dainty, and in keeping with the rest of her small features. "Are you into sucking toes as well?" she said. "My boyfriend hates feet. I've always thought I might like it though." "Well, let's find out for sure, shall we?" I obliged, taking each toe in turn into my mouth and then back again. Of course she was scrupulously clean. I'd made sure of that. She sighed softly, squirming with pleasure while I swirled my wet tongue around her little toes. She watched me while I repeated the process with her left foot. Her face was becoming quite flushed. She had tiny breasts, almost flat, but her nipples poked through the cotton vest impudently in a state of early arousal. I felt encouraged by this. "How did you become a lesbian?" she said, suddenly. Nothing like a plain speaking youth to bring you back to earth. "You talk far too much, sweet-pee. Nobody sets out to become a lesbian. It's just something you find out about yourself sooner or later. In my case it was sooner." "I never in a million years imagined I would be lying on a bed while a woman touched me up." Kimberley's choice of words made me smile. She was so cute. "I prefer to think of it as seduction, rather than `touching-up'." She giggled, good-naturedly. "Actually, I think you have the most gorgeous little titties, sweet-pee. I love small tits. They really turn me on. Just look at those sexy nips pointing. They look as hard as bullets." "Crumbs, so they are," she said, pinching them between forefinger and thumb. I abandoned her feet and moved my hands up to her breasts and began teasing her nipples. She moaned in appreciation. She kept her eyes open and on me all the time, as if in a state of utter adoration. It was slightly unnerving, but I simply smiled back at her. As my caresses evolved into a kind of erotic massage her eyes began to flutter and close as if she'd become consumed by the sensations I was bringing upon her body and senses. I raised her vest and exposed her cunny which was all dewy. I began fingering her, gently, almost surreptitiously. My caresses were fleeting and ephemeral, the tips of my fingers teasing her pussy lips, threatening to open her like the petals of a flower. But I just worked around the outside, gathering sticky juice as I went. I lay down with her and brought my fingers up to her mouth. "Lick them," I said. "Taste yourself." She did. "Well?" "Yuk! Is that me?" "It is, and I bet there's nothing yucky about it. It's just different, that's all. You could never taste yucky, sweet pee... except possibly before your bath." She giggled. "Don't embarrass me. Does everyone taste different?" she said. "I don't know, I haven't tasted everyone yet. But I'm sure going to enjoy tasting you, sweet-pee." Kimberley giggled again and I kissed her lips into silence. Her tongue swirled against mine, in a kind of sexual swordfight. She smelt lovely and clean now and her hair was fragrant with lemon shampoo. Quite a difference to how she'd been before taking her bath. Her long fair hair fanned out around her head against the pillow, framing and softening her features. She had changed so much in the few hours I had known her. There was still angst and rebellion inside her, I could sense that; but her general outward demeanour had changed. She was really quite pretty now that I studied her, apart from the ugly bruise to her left eye that is, which was at the purple going yellow stage, and the white of her eye was still faintly bloodshot. That aside, she was certainly a pretty girl. "Lift your arms up." She did. I pulled the singlet vest up over her head and off, tossing it aside. I appraised her thin white body. Her ribs were very prominent, reminding me of ridged white sand at low tide. I played my fingers over the undulations feeling I could pluck them like the strings of a harp. She kept her eyes shut now, as if losing herself in the sensation. I started working down her waif-like body with my mouth, beginning at her neck. Her Adam's apple popped up and down as she swallowed. I found it surprising that there wasn't a tattoo in sight, quite something these days for a girl her age. I took a hard nipple between my lips and flicked my tongue over it. Her body arched, lifting her back off the bed. She emitted a little sigh of pleasure. I sucked hard on it and finished with a little nip of the teeth which startled but didn't hurt her. I repeated the sequence with the other nipple, before trailing my tongue down between her shallow mounds, over her tummy and into where I felt the rough edges of a decorative stud. Her body moved under my caresses. I could feel her excitement mounting along with mine. I could hardly wait to bury by tongue in her cunt and tease her little clitty until she came. It would not be long before enjoying that delicious pleasure. It was a strange thing, the mixture of emotions I was going through. I felt very maternal towards her, yet at the same I was consumed by a feverish lust to possess her sexually, this little girl of eighteen, who looked no more than fifteen, and if it hadn't been for her ID I would not have believed her age. My tongue slid across her abdomen until I felt the tiny scrub of pubic hair tickle my lips. The scent of her ever-moistening pussy drifted up from her, the distinctive odour of a woman's sex. My whole body responded to that deliciously familiar odour. Then my lips were upon hers, feeling their fleshy wetness, the abundant liquid betraying Kimberley's desire for satisfaction. My tongue moved up and down her slit without any attempt at penetration. Her taste was delicious. I lapped at her juice, scooping it with my tongue back into my mouth and treating my taste buds to its tartness. I felt the desire between my legs, my panties glued to my wet pussy inside my jeans, but I wanted to remain clothed and concentrate on giving Kimberley pleasure, the love and comfort of an older woman. I began teasing her remorselessly, concentrating on her hard little bean, taking her to the edge time and time again, never quite allowing her the release she craved. It was fun, and a little cruel, but it would stack her tension and make her orgasm intense when it did come. I let her calm down for the umpteenth time before elevating her legs and folding her knees back into her chest. She was very supple and easy to manoeuvre. Held in this position I was able to give her smaller hole a nice tonguing, while my nose nuzzled her sopping cunt. I penetrated her, thrusting in and out with the tip, feeling her ring ease and relax, opening wider and welcoming me in. Her lithe body squirmed and bucked with every lancing, deepening thrust. "PLEASE! No more,! She shrieked. "No more... no more teasing Julie. Let me cum, I can't stand it anymore." And turning my attention back to her sopping pussy I allowed her the merciful release she desperately sought, soaking my chin with her lovely juices. "Oh fuck, Julie... Yes, yeees!" She pulled at my hair, but I held on, sucking the liquid from her. "Oh my God... I did it... I did it. You did it..." I let go. "We did it, sweet-pee," I said. "We did it." I lay down beside her panting body and held her in my arms, whispering breathless endearments and kissing her deeply so she could taste her own pleasure. When it was time to go off to work, I left Kimberley with instructions to help herself to tea, coffee and biscuits and anything else she could find to eat. I showed her how to use the TV, the DVD player and music system and said I'd see her the following morning. I didn't have to work on Sunday and I was looking forward to spending more time with her and I hoped she felt the same. When I returned the next morning the flat was in darkness as expected. I crept into the spare room expecting to find Kimberley asleep, but the bed was still made-up from yesterday. She must have decided to get straight into mine. Well, at least she will have warmed it up and I was in the mood for cuddling up to someone, it had been another very cold night. But my bed was empty too. I felt puzzled and disappointed and then concerned. I went into the lounge half-hoping, half-expecting to find her asleep on the sofa in front of the gas fire. She wasn't. I called her name, once... twice... I went into the kitchen and found a piece of folded paper lying on the worktop with a ball-point pen lying next to it. I unfolded it and read the immature scrawl: Sorry Julie, had to go. Got a text from Ricky (my boyfriend) asking me to go back. Wasn't sure what to do, but I do still love him and thought it best to give it another go. Thanks for everything, I tumble-dried my underwear by the way. Just wanted to say you're the nicest, kindest person I ever met and I enjoyed the... you know... The police are not all bad, are they? Thanks again. Love Kimberley (Sweet-Pee)