Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. Carl and Beth Do Sex Ed in Middle School by peregrinf Copyright(c) 2010 by peregrinf ------ Description: WARNING: CHAPTER 8 CONTAINS SOME MALE HOMOSEXUALITY. Beth Naked in School was one of those occasions when everything fell into place perfectly. To maintain that quality has been slow going. Good writing is like that. Sometimes it just takes time. New readers, I suggest you at least read Beth Naked in School. Even better, read the whole trilogy; in order, "Carl Naked in School", "Carl Naked in School - Beth's Story", and "Beth Naked in School". Codes: mf ff boy gi mm cons reluc gay les het fant bro sis safe oral anal mastrb pett toys food exhib voy slow caution sch ------ Chapter 4 "Are you sure it's okay for us to be here?" Missy whispered, her voice echoing in the empty corridor. "Sure. I do it all the time. It's late." I didn't go so far as to say nobody was here. With the after-school activities scheduled this place was always busy. I also wasn't about to admit I was always a bit intimidated when I visited the high school. We were interlopers, lowly middle schoolers venturing into a foreign environment. Sometimes the big kids ragged on little ones invading their turf. "Besides, next year we'll be going here," I reminded her. "Yeah, but then, too, we'll be back at the bottom of the pecking order," she mused morosely. "So, one more mountain to climb," I answered. Missy was kind of like Eeyore. "At least we'll be with people we know from our class. Must be tough for kids moving into a new school." No matter how I tried not to, my sandles slapped the floor, echoing eerily through the darkened hallways. But Missy's sneakers squeaked, so we couldn't be accused of sneaking anywhere. I knew right where we were going, the hallway outside the art rooms. We turned a corner and I froze, surprised to see someone silhouetted against the light from the exit doors at the far end. At least the silhouette looked reassuringly feminine -- not that girls couldn't be pretty mean, but at least physical assault was unlikely. I hoped. Nothing ventured, nothing gained -- The Stick marches on, I told myself. I'm tall, I'm slender, I'm sexy, and I am not scared. Missy practically attached herself to me, and I didn't blame her. It was kinda dark and spooky. The walls were lined with framed photographs and paintings, done by art students. They were hard to see in the gloom. There was a glass case about half way down that housed a sculpture, even. I eyed the displays as we ventured along, glad to see it hadn't changed yet, looking for one particular image. Whoever it was must have heard us, and had eyes that were used to the gloom. "Hi, Dee, what are you doing here? You're looking good, grrl!" I heaved a quiet sigh of relief. "Stephanie! I could ask you the same thing. And say the same of you! You've lost weight!" "Thanks! And, oh, I was just -- sort of reminiscing," Stephanie replied a little wistfully. I ran to give her a hug. Stephanie was one of Beth's best friends (of which she had a lot). She was big, and soft, and warm, only not so big any more, and I was taller than she was now! But she was just as huggable, like a big teddy bear. "Oh, this is my friend Missy Wilson. This is Stephanie O'Brien." "Oh! The flute player!" Missy, being on the chubby side herself, warmed quickly to Stephanie, though they'd never met before. She, too, got a hug, and until you've been hugged by Stephanie you don't know what a good hug is. Stephanie set Missy down on her feet and steadied her. "Hi, Missy! Okay, what do you think of this?" This was what I'd been looking for. For a moment I cocked my head, chewing on my thumb. Then it suddenly fell into place and I saw it with a totally different perspective, like one of those funny optical illusions -- is it a fancy vase, or is it two faces, in silhouette, facing each other? I was practically dancing with excitement. "Don't tell us. I think I know, but I want Missy to guess." It was the pastel I'd come to see. Something about this picture had stuck in my mind after my first fleeting look at it about a week ago. This was what I'd been thinking of during this morning's sex ed tour of Beth's cunt. I saw it now in a new light. Missy took a look at it, leaning in, squinting. With the hallway unlighted it wasn't easy to see. "It's a flower!" she decided. Stephanie chuckled. "Take a closer look." It was a large work, larger than the average in the hallway, anyway, maybe two feet high by a foot and a half wide. Certainly in this light it looked like it depicted some sort of exotic flower, an orchid perhaps, in extreme close-up. "That's what I thought, first time I saw it." I was almost bouncing with excitement at Missy's mystification. Missy, smart girl that she was, backed away instead of getting closer, looking for the woods instead of the trees. Stephanie chuckled. "I bet you spent all your time looking at the naked guys that first time, Dee. What would a flower be doing here? These are all art works that came out of The Program last year." I had to admit that I had mostly looked at the photographs of naked boys, rather than the naked girls, and even less at the sketches or paintings. I'd just skipped over the modern-artish stuff like this. "But I see it now!" Missy studied the picture more carefully. It was mostly pink, with rose shadings, vertical ruffled petals bordered by lighter, fleshy tones on the outside, while the pink petals themselves framed a suddenly familiar landscape. "Oooooh my gosh!" Missy gasped. "Is that what I think it is?" "It sure is." I laughed. "And I bet it is who I think it is, too. I mean, Beth did pose for the art class, but I didn't expect this!" Having sat through a guided tour of Beth's naked crotch during sex ed, we were now seeing this art work from a totally different perspective. The ruffled pink petals became the inner labia, coming together at the top in a little hood over the pearlescent button of her clitoris. The "throat" of the flower was the dark grotto of Beth's vagina. The puckered bud below it was her asshole, of course. Now I understood what it was doing in this gallery of pictures of naked students, and I appreciated it all the more. "Is that Beth's ... uh... ?" Missy asked, amazed. Stephanie reached out, almost touching the glass protecting the pastel. "It is. Isn't it beautiful?" I cocked my head, studying it thoughtfully. "It is," I agreed. "It really is beautiful. You like it?" Stephanie nodded. "I love it. It brings back some special memories," she admitted softly. She cleared her throat nervously. "I was wondering who the artist was." Missy squinted at the tag. "It says it's Kathy Powers. According to the tag she was a sophomore when she did it." "I don't know her," Stephanie mused. "But since she's a year behind me I probably wouldn't." "She's very good," I observed, admiring the artistry. Down the hallway a door banged, making us all jump and we turned toward the approaching footsteps. "I thought I heard voices. Oh, wait, let me turn on some lights," a girl's voice called out. Moments later track lights along the ceiling winked on, casting glowing pools on each picture and the sculture in the glass case. I knew what it was. Beth was the model for it -- nude, of course, and it was done by some blind classmate of hers, a guy with very lucky fingers. I was more interested in the pastel of Beth's pussy. Lighted it leaped out at us, the colors more vibrant and alive. The artist had even captured Beth's arousal, the gleaming juices seeping from her pink folds, a shining droplet clinging to a ruffled edge. "She must have been really turned on," Missy whispered nervously. "And the artist must have been really close to her!" As close as Carl had been to me, even. "Can I help you?" asked the woman -- girl, actually, though she was very tall. Missy and I kind of hovered behind Stephanie's comforting bulk, a bit intimidated. "I'm Kathy Powers. Do you like it?" "It's yours!" Stephanie sounded awed to suddenly find herself facing the artist herself. "It is," Kathy agreed. "And you are -- Stephanie, right? I've heard you play. That solo of yours at the final concert last year was wonderful. I even cried a little. I'm so glad you came! I've been wanting to meet you! And these are... ?" "Oh, thanks. I'm sorry," Stephanie apologized, flustered. "Yeah, hi. This is Dee Walker, and her friend Missy Wilson." "Carl's sister. Glad to meet you. You, too, Missy." I took her hand and felt a warm strength there. No shy handshake here. She was strong. "Me, too." Missy managed a quick shake, and almost a curtsy. I was awed by her. Kathy Powers was tall, taller than me, and rangy, obviously very fit, with broad shoulders and a good figure. Her jeans were faded and paint smeared, as was the loose white men's shirt she wore. Not fully buttoned or tucked in at the waist it showed a sliver of a very tan, flat tummy. Kathy's dark hair was thick, wavey, and short, curling around her ears, framing a face more handsome than pretty, but certainly attractive, with high cheekbones and dimples at the corners of her broad, bright smile. She was so totally alive! "You're tall!" I blurted out, then blushed and stammered an apology. Kathy's easy, throaty laugh washed away my embarrassment. "And it looks like you're headed in my direction," she responded, unabashed. "But I've stopped growing, almost. I think. I bet you're just hitting your stride." "Uh, yeah," I agreed, still not comfortable with the way I towered over everyone in my class, and mortified that I'd been so tactless. Kathy smiled. "I know where you're coming from. Don't worry, the boys, some of them anyway, will catch up in a year or two. Be proud. Don't be afraid to stand tall." I blushed at being so transparent, but Kathy had a way of putting me at ease. Then I rememberd. I was The Stick, and stood a little taller, and she rewarded me with a little nod and a wink. When I grew up I hoped I could be like her. "So, do you like it?" Kathy asked again, indicating her art work. "Yeah!" I admitted admiringly. "It's beautiful! And it is her. Beth, I mean. It looks just like her!" Both Stephanie and Kathy looked at me, Kathy with a calculating twinkle in her eye. "And just how would you know?" I felt myself heating up with a blush. "Uh -- well -- uhm -- we have her and Carl for sex ed, in middle school right now, and today she -- uh -- was the show and tell. In front of the whole class, projected on a screen four feet wide." Kathy laughed, a real full, unabashed laugh. "That sounds like her. I wish I'd seen it." "Me, too," Stephanie agreed. I bit back a remark about how we'd even seen the inside of Beth's vagina, and how Beth had orgasmed right there, in front of everybody. Missy scuffed her feet, but managed to meet their amused looks. "So we came to see your picture. Dee didn't tell me what it was of. At first I thought it was a flower, like Dee did, not Beth's -- uhm..." "Her pussy," Kathy agreed. "Call it like it is." She turned to Stephanie, "And you?" "It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I was wondering if I could buy it," Stephanie blurted out. It was Kathy's turn to be flustered. "Really? Gosh! I'm -- I've never sold anything before." "How much is it. I'll pay anything for it, really." "Oh, gosh! But, I'm sorry, it's not for sale." "Oh." Stephanie seemed crushed. "Really? I'm, well, I've got..." Kathy looked apologetic. "It's not a matter of money. It's special to me. I'm really sorry, it's just not for sale." "Oh." Stephanie looked at the pastel longingly. "But I do have some other versions, earlier studies," Kathy offered sympathetically. "She posed for us for a week. Gosh, what a week that was! They're smaller, and some are just sketches. Would you like to see them?" "Oh, yes, thank you!" Stephanie looked hopeful, ready to go with Kathy. Missy and I stood there, feeling a little abandoned as the older girls turned away, their heads close, already chattering like long lost friends. "Well, nice to meet you," I ventured, fascinated by the tall artist. Kathy turned around. "Would you like to see where I work, too? Have you ever seen an artist's studio? Gosh, I can't believe I'm referring to myself that way! An artist! And anyway, I've just got sort of a corner of the room, but they've let me make it mine for the year." "You are an artist," Stephanie sounded almost worshipful. "Thank you, but I'm not a Renoir or Degas yet." Kathy nodded, blushing a little. "Coming, Dee? Missy?" "Oh!" Something about the look Stephanie gave me made me hesitate. There was a longing to it, a hoping. She didn't want us along, but why? Somehow I didn't think it was personal, and it was important to her. "Oh, no, thanks. We've got to be getting home." "We do?" Missy sounded surprised. "Yeah. With your parents out tonight you're staying with me, remember? And we've got a ton of homework to do," I alibied. I could sense something from Stephanie, and Kathy, too. "Let's leave them to their thing." "Oh, yeah, okay. Bye!" Missy, a little disappointed, gave the retreating pair a friendly wave. They didn't even acknowledge it they were already so busy talking. "That trill you do with your flute, do you use your tongue for that?" I heard Kathy ask.I didn't hear Stephanie's reply as we turned to go. "I got the feeling they didn't want us tagging along. Stephanie, anyway," I explained softly. Missy nodded with a wistful smile. "Yeah, you're right." Then she brightened. "Do you think Kathy is a lesbian?" she asked when we were out of earshot. "And Stephanie?" "What makes you ask?" "They seem awfully interested in Beth's pussy, and each other. I bet Kathy's a lesbian." "Well, I don't know for sure. As for Stephanie, well, I guess it's not a deep secret. Carl and Beth had a threesome with Stephanie when Beth was in The Program." "Where'd you hear that?" "From Carl. Over the summer I was kinda wondering about myself -- I mean, boys scare me, but girls don't. Carl was reassuring me, and told me Stephanie was wondering the same thing about herself. So they took a test drive, so to speak." "They did?! Stephanie and Beth did It?" Missy's voice rose to a squeak. "And is she? Stephanie, I mean?" "He didn't say. It was a threesome -- Carl was there, too. But he did say that they had fun. My bet is that's why Stephanie wants that painting so much. I bet it reminds her of that day." "Gosh!" "But that doesn't make Beth a lesbian, nor Stephanie, or Kathy, for that matter. It was an experiment is all." We chatted our way homeward, speculating about who might be gay in our school. There was unanimous agreement that Mickey wasn't. The speculation there was whether she was still a virgin or not. Patterson, we agreed, was not gay either, the way he blustered around. "Hey, bro, put another shrimp on the barbie," I called out as we banged through the front door. "Company for supper." "Hi, Missy," Carl greeted her, wiping his hands on a towel as he came out of the kitchen, naked but for an apron, no less. "I'll just stretch the soup by pissing in it." He teasingly lifted the apron to show his naked penis. "Or would you prefer cum, if I have any left after this morning?" "Oh yuck! That's so gross! That's worth at least fifty cents in the nasty jar. Don't listen to him, he's joking." "Is that what I smell, soup?" Missy asked, not really unsettled by Carl's lack of clothes. It wasn't the first time she'd seen him that way, after all. At least he wasn't hard. "Don't let him kid you. He's making a big pot of chili tonight. It's his specialty. Mine is spaghetti sauce. Mom does a great stroganoff. We take turns making industrial amounts, then freeze individual servings, thaw 'em in the microwave, add noodles or rice. Quick and easy. Mom's not home yet?" "Meeting with a client, she'll be a little late," Carl answered, stirring the pot on the stove as we got milk and cookies. "Don't eat too much, it's close to dinner." "Yes, mommy," I mumbled around a brownie. "Beats the heck out of the Colonel's chicken," Missy admitted, sniffing the bubbling brew. "That was what I was expecting." "Not in this house! Pizza maybe, or chinese, but not that! Come on, let's go up to my room and get some homework done." After supper I was finishing the last of my social studies, while Missy lounged on the bed, toying with my knitted stuffed monkey's long arms. "How to lesbians do It, do you suppose?" she mused, untying the knot she'd done in the monkey's arms. "Do what?" Closing the last book I stuffed it in my back pack. "You know, make love." Laying on her back, Miss held the monkey by his arms and flipped him like he was an acrobat. "I mean, they don't have a thingy to put in each other's whozis." "A cock? And a cunt?" I'm bolder than Missy, whose parents are pretty conservative. I was kinda surprised they'd let her join the Dirty Dozen. I really liked that name. "Uh -- yeah," Missy agreed. "I mean, what do they do?" "Well, they hug and kiss, and probably get naked and rub together." "But is that enough to get off?" I was thinking of what Carl had shown me, and just the memory was enough to get me a little wet. "You don't need to -- uh -- be poked, necessarily, to orgasm. You masturbated at the sleepover, I know." Missy blushed. "Well yeah. We all did!" "Well, they could masturbate each other." Missy's innocence was really sweet. We've been friends practically forever, and I realized that I really did love her -- like a sister. I also remembered Missy's older brother hadn't gone through The Program, at least not yet. He had the rest of his senior year to do it, and her parents were kinda over-protective. She was always pumping me for information, since she knew how my mom was, and Carl. "But why would they do that? Touch each other that way?" "Because they love each other and want to make each other feel good? And anyway, it feels better when someone else does it. Have you ever tried to tickle yourself?" "Yeah. It doesn't work," Missy admitted, sitting up and crossing her legs Indian fashion. "So, sex is the same way." I couldn't help remembering what Carl had done for me, remembering the most awesome orgasm I'd ever had, not that I'd had that many yet. "Oh." Missy was brooding, and I felt sympathy for her and joined her on the bed. She was pretty shy about sex. That was why Carl and mom and me had been dressed for supper. "You okay?" "It's all so -- confusing," Missy mumbled unhappily. "Kinda scarey," I admitted, putting her arm around her. "But that's what Carl and Beth are trying to help us through." "Yeah. But I don't know ... I wish I knew ... I mean, what if I'm frigid, or something? And I'm kinda fat..." "It's baby fat. You'll grow out of it," I knew she was self-conscious of her curves, while I'd been jealous of them, until I became The Stick, that is. "Nobody'll ever want me," Missy moaned. Without even thinking about it, I drew Missy close, and down on the bed with me. Like Stephanie, Missy was soft and warm. "I want you." Missy tried to push me away. "You're a lesbian?" I laughed. "No, I'm not a lesbian! At least I don't think so, but I do like hugging you, because you're my friend and I like you. Don't you like to be hugged?" "Yes," Missy admitted, relaxing a little. "My mom used to hug me, when I was little. And my dad. But not so much since I grew up." "Well I like hugging you. I'll hug you whenever you want." "You don't feel -- queer about it?" Had she actually made a pun? "No. It makes me feel good. It's a hug. Hugs are good. How does it make you feel?" "I feel, kinda warm and nice, but sorta hungry, in a funny way." "Me, too," I admitted once I'd thought about it. "You know, you don't have to be lesbian to love someone. And if you love someone, isn't it okay to want to make them feel good?" "I guess so," Missy agreed, relaxing more. For a while we just lay there in each other's arms, still dressed. Mom knocked on the open door. "Bedtime, girls." "Already?" Missy sounded disappointed, trying to push away, probably afraid of what my mom might say, finding us hugging like that. But mom just smiled. I felt kinda bad letting go of Missy, so I did it reluctantly. I didn't want her thinking that I loved her That Way, but I did, sorta. She was my best friend. I wasn't worried that I might be a lesbian because, well, if I was, so what? Digging into her back pack, Missy grumbled at herself. "What's the matter?" I was trying to close my back pack. "I forgot pajamas." "So? Sleep naked. I do." "Naked?" "Sure. Why not? You know when Carl was in The Program we got used to being naked most of the time." "You wanna sleep naked with me, in the same bed?" Missy looked a little scared. "Why not? It's queen size, and we've done it before." "Not naked!" "Well, no, but I don't take up much room, and I don't really have anything that would fit you. You can wear your underwear if you want, but it's not very comfortable." "I don't know..." "Come on, let's get our teeth brushed and stuff and then we can decide." "Okay," Missy agreed. We had our usual push and shove as we shared the sink. It had always been a game with us when one of us slept over with the other. Only this time it felt a little different to me, though I was careful not to let Missy know. "You sure you don't mind sleeping naked with me?" Missy asked nervously when we were back in my room. "Why should I? Now, if you were a boy..." Missy giggled. "I don't know if that's an 'eeeewwwww' or a 'wowee!' moment." "Me neither." I was tossing the stuffed animals aside and pulling the covers down. Like I said, it wasn't the first time we'd shared a bed, but it was the first time we were both naked. I admit, the thought gave me a little shiver. We'd be skin to skin! I'd learned from Carl's time in the program there was something special about that touch. Something good special. We'd undressed together before, of course, but I found myself sneaking peeks at her, and caught her looking at me, too. I was still kinda jealous about her curves, and made it a point to straighten up and stand tall, remembering what Kathy Powers had said. "You look taller! Are you still growing?" I shrugged. "As far as I know," I admitted, not letting her in on the secret of the New Me, The Stick and proud of it. Missy didn't have a bad figure. Yes, she was a little on the chubby side, but it really was just baby fat, and she did have breasts. "I wish I was skinny like you," Missy countered. "The guys all stare at my tits." "Slender," I corrected. "I'm slender, not skinny. Must be nice to have something to be stared at," I countered, noticing Missy even had some hair down there, I slid between the sheets and moved over to give Missy room. "Stop dithering and get under the covers. It's nice and warm under here." Later, snuggled under the covers all warm and cozy, when the lights were out, in the dark time when secrets were shared, I was lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow would bring, when Missy spoke up. "Are you awake?" "Uh huh. Are you?" Missy, friend that she was, didn't even tease me about what a stupid question that was. "Do you think boys wonder, too?" I knew what she was talking about. "Probably." "Do you suppose they experiment the way Beth and Stephanie did?" "I've heard about a circle jerk, but I suppose that's not the same thing." Missy shifted. "What's a circle jerk?" "Carl told me it's when a bunch of guys all sit around in a circle and masturbate -- jerk off. I don't think that's experimenting. They probably see who can squirt the most or the highest or something." "Eeeewwwww! Gross!" "Kinda," I agreed. "But boys are like that. Competitive." "Even that way?" "Probably. Carl says they worry about who has the biggest dick, like we worry about our boobs, I suppose." "Do you worry about your boobs?" "I used to," I answered, feeling just a twinge of concern still. I am The Stick. I am tall, I am slender, I am sexy, I reminded myself. "Do you think Kathy is a lesbian?" Missy asked again. "I don't know for sure," I admitted, "But the only pictures she painted of Beth were like the one you saw. At least that's what I've heard from Beth." "What about Stephanie?" Dee shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not sure she knows." "What about Beth?" I snorted, then laughed. "Definitely not!" I didn't add that when Beth was around Carl they went at it like rabbits. The silence settled over us like a warm, soft blanket, but I could feel Missy shifting, and I felt restless myself. I was afraid to move, 'cause if I did I'd bump against Missy's soft skin. "How do you think they do it?" Missy asked in a whisper. I knew what she meant, what she was asking without asking, and I felt a hot nervousness in myself. I felt that strange hunger down deep inside, only now, after Carl had shown me what could be, I knew what it really meant. I also knew one way lesbians probably did it. After all, everyone had lips and a tongue. And I also knew that I knew how to do it, because Carl had showed me. Did I want to do it -- with Missy? Now that was a silly question. I knew did. I wanted to feel that wonderful rush again and, more important, I wanted Missy to know what she was hungry for, and to fill that emptiness inside her. But did I dare to try? What would she taste like? Carl had certainly enjoyed it. And I'd tasted my own juices on his face, and it was interesting rather than disgusting. But what if trying it did something awful to the wonderful, warm friendship Missy and I shared? Even suggesting it might scare Missy. What then? Did I have the nerve to do it? Then I remembered. I'm The Stick, and The Stick is brave, and bold, and loving, as well as tall, and slender, and sexy. "Come here," I whispered softly, rolling toward her, reaching out to draw Missy close, my own heartbeat quickening as I contemplated what might -- what was likely -- to happen. Missy held back. "Are you sure?" "I'm sure I want to hug you," I answered. "You're my friend, and I love you." She yielded and I drew her close. She was on her back, and I lay on my side, against her, my arm around her soft torso. We were skin against skin, nothing between us. It was different from any other hug we'd ever shared, and it felt so good. "You feel good," I assured Missy. "So do you," Missy admitted, her voice trembling. I remembered how gentle and careful Carl had been with me. "If -- if you don't want this to happen, all you have to do is say 'no.' Understand?" Missy shyly nodded her head against my shoulder. "I mean it," I insisted, softly but firmly, remembering my brother's oh-so serious tone of voice. "Uh huh. But -- what are you gonna do?" "This." I could feel Missy trembling as I rose on my elbow, and lowered my mouth to Missy's. When my lips found hers I didn't do anything more, at first. But Missy didn't turn away. I just barely brushed my lips against hers, and her lips were soft against mine, warm and live and sweet, so I kissed her a little harder, and she responded. I was praying she'd let me do this. I wanted it so much! I held my breath, and let my tongue touch Missy's lips, gently, tasting the cherry Chap Stick she always used. I stroked Missy's cheek, feeling the softness of my dear friend's body against mine, and then touched her shoulder and rolled her toward me. Our mouths still together, my tongue still tasting her chapstick, not trying to push deeper, I let my hand wander, tracing the line of her spine all the way to her waist, resisting the urge to go further. Timidly, Missy squirmed closer to me, let her lips part, and let her tongue greet mine. Our lips opened further, and we kissed more boldly, my heart racing at the flavor, the scent, the minty taste of Missy's toothpaste, and the warm softness of Missy's body against mine. I slipped my hand down farther to the soft swelling of Missy's bottom, fingers delicately tracing the crack. Breaking the kiss, I reminded her she could always say no. Missy shook her head. "No. I mean, don't stop. I'm scared, though." I felt tears from this wonderful sharing with my dear friend. "Don't be. It'll be all right." I drew the covers over our heads so she knew the world couldn't see. My hand stroked Missy's soft plumpness, so different from my own slender contours. Sliding my hand up between us I cupped Missy's breast, amazed that something could feel so wonderful, the stiff nubbin of Missy's tit clinging to the soft, warm mass of her blossoming breast. Missy actually pressed against my hand, squirmed even closer, our thighs interlacing. Maybe there was another way, a safer way to start with. I pressed my slender thigh against Missy's crotch with its little muff of hair, felt a dampness there, even as Missy's thigh pressed against my own crotch, and I knew Missy was feeling the soft, humid folds of my pussy. With our mouths still locked together we both sighed, our breaths mingling as we tried to devour each other. Without even really thinking about it, we humped against each other's thighs, squirmed chest to chest, belly to belly, pussy to thigh, legs tangling. I guess it was instinct. Our maturing bodies instinctively knew the motions, and we squirmed together there beneath covers, naked in the secret darkness, my pleasure growing, steadily growing, and I felt Missy rising right with me, until we strained against each other, our pussies clenching, clenching, clenching, the waves sweeping over us again and again until they receded. "Oh Dee!" Missy sighed as we both relaxed. "Shshshhh," I whispered softly. "Shhhhhhhh." Moving carefully, I untangled myself from Missy, pushing the covers away as Missy rolled to her back again. Leaning over her I kissed her lips, licked them. When she turned her head away I nibbled her ear lobe, then tongued her ear, and she giggled. "Tickles," she said. I squirmed lower, my lips nibbling at Missy's neck, down toward her... "What?" Missy asked fearfully. "Shhhh," I whispered reassuringly, my mouth seeking Missy's tit, nuzzling at the breasts I envied. Okay, I admit it, I envied Missy her boobs, so sue me! "You can always say 'no, ' but I hope you don't," I reminded her softly, my hand taking possession of her soft, warm breast. "Ohhhhh." It wasn't "no." My lips found Missy's nipple as I squeezed her breast, and Missy whimpered as I suckled, and she combed her fingers through my hair to hug me closer to her bosom. "It's all right," Missy said. "Oh, don't stop." I momentarily relinquished the tit I'd been nursing at. "I won't." I suckled on Missy's other tit, then followed the trail Carl had blazed down my own body, tasting Missy, nibbling, tongueing my BFF's deep navel (getting a rewarding giggle), then lower... "Are you sure?" Missy asked fearfully. "Yes," I answered, bolstered by the scent rising from Missy's aroused pussy. "Oh, yes!" Then I hestitated. "Are you?" "I guess so," Missy agreed nervously, "if you want to." "Oh yes, I want to. I really, really do." And believe me, I did. I kissed low on Missy's tummy, feeling the shy strands of Missy's burgeoning bush on my chin. I kissed Missy's hip, nudging her to get her to spread her legs, slid over to nestle between her lush thighs, felt Missy's twitches with every lick on the tender flesh on the insides of her thighs as I settled between them. I licked the crease where thigh met pelvis, and Missy whined and squirmed ecstatically, her legs opening more. Then I braved the forbidden crease, tasting the juices already there, lapped at the slippery ruffles of Missy's aroused pussy, tangling my tongue in Missy's immature bush. "Yessss," Missy hissed, humping upward. "Yesssss!" Stroke by stroke, parting Missy's cleft with my thumbs, I worked my tongue deeper into Missy's sweet crevice, in my mind's eye seeing the geography of this mysterious territory as shown by Beth; there the cunt, there the pee hole, and above that the clit, and Missy wailed softly. And then I discovered just how much Carl had enjoyed pleasuring me, that giving pleasure to a dear friend was a joy in itself. So I tried to pay that precious gift forward to my best, best friend by suckling and tongueing her squirmy little pleasure button, exploring the slippery grotto of Missy's vagina, while my own cunt clenched in sympathy. I happily slimed my lips and cheeks and chin and nose with Missy's sweet slippery juices. Missy writhed, humped, welcomed my invasion, her fingers tangled in my hair, wailing joyously as I nursed on her clit, slithered a finger into Missy's cunt, found a narrow passage through her virginity, feeling her pussy clenching, her whole body convulsing as her cunt spasmed happily, her hips thrusting, her thighs squeezing my head, until at last she could take no more and gently pushed me away from her crotch. Gasping for breath she insistantly drew me up along her body to hug me close atop her, reaching to kiss my lips, our legs tangling again. I only hesitated a moment, then let Missy taste the juices bathing my lips, my face, my mouth, our bodies once again mingling together from lips to toes and all the wonderful places in between. For a few minutes I worried, expecting someone to come knocking on my door to investigate the noises. Oh, hi Mom! No, Missy just stubbed her toe in the dark. Yeah, several times. Sorry for the racket! When nothing happened I relaxed with a sly giggle. I knew mom had to have heard, and I was more grateful than I could possibly say for mom's discretion and understanding. Mom deserved something special for her birthday this year, that was certain. "D-d-do you w-want m-me to d-d-d-d-do you?" Missy whispered fearfully, after a long silence in the dark. "Not necessary," I assured her, rolling off her to lie by her side, drawing Missy to me, still holding her in my arms, understanding now how giving such pleasure felt even better than giving someone just the perfect Christmas present. I felt Missy relaxing against me. Reaching out with one hand, I drew the covers over us, and slid into a warm, comforting sleep, my best friend's breath warm against my neck. "Time to get up, girls." I stirred at my mom's touch, but Missy lurched away from me, fearful until I tightened my grip, not letting her go. "What time is it?" Mom was already at the door. "A bit late, but don't worry about it. I'll drive you to school on my way to work." Then she sniffed. "You two might want to take a shower, though. But don't take too long! Work together!" There was a message in that last suggestion, and I restrained a giggle. "We will. Come on, Missy!" "What?" Missy was still confused, a bit groggy, and more than a little worried. "Shower," I answered. "Us. Together. Come on, sleepyhead!" She sat up, wrapping herself in the sheet as I leaped out of bed, unashamedly naked. "Shower? Together?" "We stink. And we don't have much time, so come on. I'll wash your back and you can wash mine." "Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear," Missy dithered. "Do you think she knows?" I grabbed towels. "I think the whole neighborhood knows." "Not really!" Missy wailed, dropping the sheet, trying not very successfully to wrap herself in the towel as she followed me out the door. "No, not really. We weren't quite that loud. But mom does, and Carl, too, probably. You were kinda noisy!" "I'm sorry," Missy apologized dolefully. "Oh God, I'm so ashamed!" "Don't be. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much." I adjusted the shower, took away her towel and urged her under the spray, joining her and reaching for the soap. "But everybody'll know," Missy protested. I busied myself soaping Missy's back as the plump girl huddled under the hot spray. I loved the feeling of her soft, plushy body. "No. I was exagerating. Only my mom and Carl know, and they won't tell anyone, and I sure won't, either." Missy was inconsolable. "I'm a lesbian!" I relented in my soaping to turn Missy and wrap her in my arms. "No you're not. I'm not either. Think about ... think about Jeff. You know you're hot for him!" "Am not!" Missy retorted, blushing. "Are too. I've seen you watching him at lunch. And you go to all his basketball games." "Well, yeah," Missy admitted. "But you like Mike Collins!" "My point exactly," I agreed, done soaping down Missy's back I eased the girl away, and began on her front. Missy tried to bat my hands away. "What are you doing?" "Washing you." Missy's breasts were warm and soft and slippery with soap, and I kept moving down Missy's front, even between her thighs, until Missy was sighing and squirming. "Now you do me." I handed Missy the soap and turned my back on her. "But last night -- I didn't do anything thing for you!" Missy complained, soaping me down. "Don't worry. I loved doing it for you." Then I giggled, turning back around to give Missy accesss to my front. "On the other hand, there's no time like the present, if you don't dawdle too much." "But, what should I do?" Missy asked. "Oh, whatever you feel like doing," I suggested, enjoying the way she was rubbing my nipples. "Just with your soapy hands is fine," I suggested as Missy worked her way lower. "Just make sure you do a real good job on the smelly parts!" "Dee!" "Well, you don't want me going to school smelling like we've been doing exactly what we've been doing, do you?" "N-no. How's that?" I guided her hand my pussy, spread spread my legs and offered Missy access. "More down here," I sighed as Missy's finger slithered into my crack. "Oh, yes, that's nice. MMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmm-- oh -- oh -- oh -- yessssss! That's wonderful!" "Girls?" "Almost done, Mom," I managed to respond reasonably coherently, my voice shaking. "Sorry to hurry you," she replied through the door. "But time is short!" "Yes, mom," I agreed, taking the soap from Missy and then we jostled and squirmed under the shower to rinse away the lather. The shower off, there was a flurry of towels as we dried ouselves and each other. Still worrying, Missy followed me as we scampered naked back to the bedroom and threw on some clothes. Then it was down to a quick breakfast and out to the car with our school stuff, tumbling together into the back seat and fastening our seat belts. "Mrs. Walker, I'm not a lesbian," Missy out of the blue insisted defensively. Mom chuckled softly. "I know that, Missy. And even if you were, it wouldn't matter to me." "Well, I'm not!" Missy insisted. "What I do know," mom went on, "is that you and Dee have been best friends for a long time. And you're young, and growing and learning, and that you love each other, and that what goes on between the two of you is your business, not mine. "And I also know that what goes on in our house stays in our house, so don't worry about that!" "Thanks, mom," I reached for Missy's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as we pulled up in front of school. "De nada. Have a good time, girls. Missy, you're welcome to stay over anytime." "Thanks, Mrs. Walker." "Come on, Missy. What do you think Carl and Beth will do in sex ed today?" Pulling Missy along by her hand, we ran to join the last of the stragglers just as the bell rang.