Date: Sun, 12 Dec 2004 13:37:46 -0800 (PST)
From: ybother1122@yahoo.com
Subject: Good Girl 11

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

Big thanks to everyone who wrote to us. Your letters have been the wind
beneath our wings, the cream in our coffee, the ridges on our condoms,
the batteries in the junk drawer, the reliable babysitter (wink-wink) and
the crystal blue persuasion that keeps us churning out the copy.



Rog could not hear her, and it was too late for him to stop. He pulled
and pushed and grabbed Heather's hips harder, pulling her more firmly
against him. His cock felt warmer and harder, and Heather could feel a
steady pulse build. She could feel every drop of hot slick cum as he shot
it into her. He shook and moaned and she finally felt his grip loosen. He
pulled slowly from her ass, and Heather exhaled.

"How do you feel?" Penny asked. "Are you OK?"

"Shower. I need a shower." Heather walked slowly up the stairs on shaky
legs.



Heather stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of the hot,
fluffy towels from the warmer near the stall. She looked at herself in
the mirror for a long time.

Three months had passed since she talked to Denise about the vibrator and
everything had changed. She slept with the woman, lost her virginity to
her husband and was now attending a sex party in South America where
someone she only knew by his first name had only minutes ago...

She shook her head; it wasn't something she wanted to think about. She
knew it happened, it was something they talked about on "Sex and the
City" but she never thought it was something that happened to real
people. Not something that happened to girls like her.

Heather thought about what it might mean if people at home knew what she
was doing. She knew what other girls (what she herself) had said about
other girls who slept around.  Her friends, what there were of them, had
words for girls who let boys do whatever they wanted to do. The thought
of the nicknames she might get chilled her...

"What's wrong, beautiful?"

Heather turned to see Sabine standing in the doorway. She was wearing a
leaf-green shawl that accented rather than concealed her snow-white skin.
Her expression was soft and she wore a slight smile, "You look like
you've lost your last friend."

"Sabine, I didn't see you there." She blurted.

"You were too busy," she said. The tall woman walked to her and held
her closely, pulling the girl's face to her neck. "What has made you so
sad? Has someone said something cruel to you?"

"No," Heather said. She breathed in the woman's scent, a mixture of
wine, sex and Chanel. "Everyone's been very..."

"Did something happen to you?" the woman asked, concerned. "Did
someone hurt you?"

"No, it's not that."

"Ahh," Sabine said as she stroked the girl's back. "I understand. I
saw you, Penny and Roger. Are you feeling dirty? Is that why you had a
shower?"

Heather nodded, her face turning red. Sabine let out a small laugh and
let her hands stray to the girl's bottom, eliciting a nervous twitch.
"Darling Heather, you are SO American. You feel ashamed because you
succumbed to your desire."

"But I didn't want that to happen," she said.

"Then why didn't you say no?" Sabine asked as she kissed her nose.
"Why didn't you tell Penny you didn't want to have him there?"

Heather opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Sabine kissed her as
she pushed the towel from her shoulders to fall on the floor. They stayed
there for a while, kissing and swaying in each other's arms.

"You are such a lucky girl," the woman said. "You may not know it now,
but years from now you'll come to realize your fortune in meeting Steven
and Denise. You'll meet so many other girls, whose first lovers were
crude and clumsy. You'll know other women, many years older than you,
who cried when someone had them," her hand drifted between Heather's
buttocks and caressed the still-sensitive opening in the middle, causing
her to gasp, "there. Even now, know that there are women worldlier and
more wise who would give anything to have Solique or Jaime in their bed
and have gone wanting -- both love you dearly. Child, you have been
blessed."

Heather smiled despite herself. She loved Steven and Denise; there was no
question of that. She didn't know any other girls (as far as she knew)
who liked other girls, but she knew Solique was gorgeous by anyone's
standards. Jaime, she thought, was Jaime; as beautiful as any man walking
on God's green Earth. She laughed.

Sabine kissed her forehead, "But now it's time for you to return the
favor, Heather."

"What do you mean?"

"Come with me."

Sabine led Heather through the upper level of her home, past hanging
plants and pieces of ancient art to a look out at a veranda beneath them
overlooking the bay. She caressed the naked girl's shoulders.

"In the room below is my niece, Eva," she said. "She is a sweet girl,
a little younger than you."

Heather turned to her, but Sabine's red eyes were distant.

"She needs someone with a gentle touch, someone like her..."

Heather took Sabine's face in her hands and kissed her deeply. As her
hands drifted over her neck, she realized the woman was nervous. Heather
realized she was comforting Sabine as much as agreeing with her unspoken
request.

"Let me take care of her," she said.





Heather followed the wide stairway down to where she had shucked off her
translucent blue dress. She found it wrapped around the brass rail at the
base of the living room bar. It had been used to tie someone in place.
The girl wondered briefly what had happened there.

The party had spilled out onto the veranda with only a few stragglers
staying out of the bright afternoon sun. Steven and Denise were lounging
opposite each other on a wide inflatable raft turning lazy circles. Their
nude bodies, like all the others on display, glistened with some kind of
oil.

Catherine and Kitten were on the far side of the pool. The tall woman
obviously spent a great deal of time in the gym and her nude body was
sculpted and perfectly proportioned. Her black hair was pulled back in a
tight ponytail held by a gold cuff. She had Kitten in her arms and they
were kissing, Heather noticed it seemed Catherine was stroking the
girl's stomach.

It was then she saw they had a young girl strapped over what looked like
a weightlifting chair. Though the girl's honey blond hair fell in a
shroud over to hide her tan face, Heather could see the look of complete
helplessness on her face. The chair bound her hands and ankles in thick
leather bands; the bend in the middle raised and parted the girl's ass
at an embarrassing angle.

"Heather, come here," Catherine waved to her.

As she walked around the pool, waving a bright hello to Steven and
Denise, to the women she noticed Kitten was not having her stomach
scratched. A long, black dildo extended from a harness on the Asian
girl's hips. The taller woman had been smearing it with some viscous
liquid.

"We were just telling this girl she needs to learn how to act
properly," she said, kissing Heather hello. "She's an unspeakable
little slut."

She ran her slick hand over the girl's ass, sliding up under it and
rubbing rudely along her pussy. Catherine rubbed along her lips in a
circle quickly three times before plunging in with three fingers. The
girl cried out and wrenched against her bonds.

Kitten snuggled up to Heather, rubbing the fake cock against her stomach
and cooing, "Don't worry, I'll be very gentle with her."

Heather felt something in her stomach quiver as Kitten traded places with
her employer. The girl in the harness started pleading in Portuguese,
twisting and turning in an effort to change her exposed condition.
Heather felt her skin break out in goose bumps as the bound girl was
penetrated by the fake cock.

Catherine wrapped her arms around Heather from behind, dragging her hands
upward to rest on her small breasts, "Careful honey, if you stare like
that people might think you like that."

Heather sighed and leaned back against the larger woman, "What is it
about this that's so hot?"

Kitten had worked the entire length of the dildo into the girl's small
pussy and had begun to pump it in and out of her. She held the girl's
hips firmly and rolled her thighs from her knees like a belly dancer,
winding the dildo in and out of her. The girl's pleas continued but her
voice was wracked with effort, her breaths came in strained explosions.

"It's about power," Catherine whispered in her ear. "The girl can't
move. She's naked and defenseless. There's nothing she can do about
anything that's going to happen to her. The rest depends on you."

"What do you mean?"

"It might be because you'd like to take Kitten's place, or you'd like
to find some girl of your own to tie down and have your way with. Or it
might mean you want to be in the chair, with your bottom in the air and
your head down," Catherine kissed Heather's ear gently, "Which are
you?"

The bound girl's voice had gone completely incoherent; her pleading had
turned to labored moans. Kitten then changed her approach by pulling out
of her completely before popping just the head quickly in and out. The
girl wailed in shock with each battering entry.

Heather couldn't decide which position she wanted to take, "I actually
have something I need to do."

She picked up her blue dress from the deck (when had she dropped it?) and
pulled it over her head. She walked over to Kitten, patted her on her ass
and kissed her cheek, "I'll have to take a rain check on that."

Kitten kissed her back, leaning over the girl to do it, grinding the fake
cock as far into her as it would go, "If you want to, I'll take her
place for you."

"I'll keep that in mind," Heather said as she went around to raise the
girl's head, she was panting from the strain on her sex.

"What's her name?" Heather asked.

"Who cares?" Catherine said.

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