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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} (REV) How of Why by Rachael Ross (FF, F/f, Lesbian, Romance, Mast,  Oral, Pedo Themes)
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Date: Wed, 23 Sep 2009 09:10:01 -0400
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The How of Why
Story Codes: FF, F/f, Lesbian, Romance, Mast, Oral, Pedo Themes
Copyright 2005-2009 Rachael Ross all rights reserved.
rache696@yahoo.com

Emily is a modest young woman, respectable and unassuming, but in her
heart of hearts lurks an unspeakable desire. Angie comes from the
other side of town. As a ne'er-do-well single mother struggling to
survive, only she possesses what Emily truly needs.
Genre: Erotica
Sex Content: Some Sex


=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

The How of Why
by rache

Note: This story is composed of seven parts and told from alternating
viewpoint by the two main characters, Angie and Emily. It works better
than you might imagine and I'm largely satisfied with the final
result. -rr

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

One - Angie

I saw her in the library, that big fancy one they got in Berrymore,
and I fell in love again. See, it wasn't the first time she'd caught
my eye. That first time I'd been working, maybe three or four weeks
previously, and I'd seen her then and my heart was going, you know?
She was one of those respectable types, you could see that right away.
The way she dressed, real nice like, and the way she moved...Like a
cat. But a shy one, a little soft tabby cat with no claws, I figured.
But I mighta been wrong about that. You decide.

I work in a library too, sorta. A bookstore, but we don't sell any
Steve King, or Annie Rice, or anything fancy like that. We sell adult
books, for adults, you know. Picture books and videos mostly, though
most of the videos are DVD now. Got a little arcade in the back and I
don't much care for that. The guys go back there, ugly dark guys,
always in the shadows it seems like. I don't care for guys a whole
lot, not since my rape.

Now, I'm not what you'd call well educated. I'll admit that, but I do
have a mind of my own. And I suppose it may seem a little strange, me
being a young woman and all, working in an adult bookstore. But money
is money and if you don't have any, you find some. This little town
don't have but two bars, a diner, and a gas station...and a bookstore.
That's because they don't allow any bookstores like that in Berrymore.
Not since they passed the ordinance. So, folks from Berrymore drive an
extra 15 minutes and come here.

Anyway, after I was raped on my 14th birthday, my whole life went to
shit. I dropped out of school and got real depressed. I thought about
getting an abortion, but that'd be a sin, my Daddy figured. But he
didn't do nothing but stop me though. I had the baby, named her Jenny,
and *boom* he kicked us both out of his house. Said I could get
welfare and babyfood for free now, so I didn't need to be eating his
supper no more. He wasn't my real Daddy anyway and after my momma left
him, he just liked seeing me suffer, I think.

So, I found my own place, a little trailer, and the state paid for
most of that. Gave me food stamps and babyfood, just like Daddy
predicted. And my little girl kept growing, you know. They do that. I
tried to get rid of her a couple times, but the welfare lady said I'd
lose all my money. So, I kept Jenny around and looked for a job.

I was seeing a shrink too, since I'd been raped and all. It didn't
cost me nothin when he came around. A head shrinker that makes house
calls, that's pretty cool. We'd talk and stuff and he'd check my baby,
you know. I cried a lot in those days, especially when we talked about
what happened that night. The doc suggested I should confront my
fears. Sort of fight 'em off in some way. I thought about that and it
took awhile, but about the time I turned 24 I figured ten years was a
long time to cry over a thing. So, I saw the job and I took it. The
therapy ain't bad and I keep a shotgun under the counter, just in case
Jenny's daddy shows up. I ain't seen him since the night he raped me
though, but I ain't never gonna forget his face. I see it every night
sleepin' in my house. He's all in my little girl.

So, I'm not exactly typical, you might say. That rape changed a lot of
things about me. I turned lesbian, that's for sure. I mean, maybe I
was leaning that way before, but I don't think so. Afterwards though,
after my baby was born and I was lonely and wanted some company, I
couldn't stand thinkin' about a man touching me. No way. But I needed
it. Goddamn, I just needed someone to touch me a little bit. And I met
this girl, Donna, and she didn't mind touching me none. After her come
a few other ones, mostly girls just passing through, really. Stopping
in Berrymore for a quick job, enough for a bus ticket someplace else.
They didn't want no attachments, just someone to touch. Like me.

I ain't bad lookin' neither. Some folks hear me say I been raped, and
livin in a trailer, and got a little girl, and work in a porn shop,
and they just figure I must be some white trash whore. Too much
makeup, dirty hair, wrinkles, fat, but that ain't none of me. I guess
I dress a little mannish. I like my boots and my jeans and my corduroy
shirt, but I like my frilly underwear too. My hair's blonde, but I
wash it everyday, and brush it, and it's nice. I got a pretty face,
pretty enough so a lot of people look at me twice and smile. I have
reasonable boobs. I mean I did have a kid, but I was just 14 so most
everything went right back the way it was before. They don't sag none
and I don't have no roll of dough around my middle. My ass looks good
in jeans, tight jeans, and there ain't no sag there neither.

So don't go thinking I'm some kind of trailer park slut just cause I
can't spell too good, or use those big words. Hell, you're reading
this, ain't ya?

Okay then. I have a bit of a temper sometimes.

So, I was working. Sitting behind my counter and watching some TV,
trying to ignore the guys looking at me. You want to know something
funny? If I was a waitress, and I've been one so I know, I'd have my
butt pinched 16 times a day. I'd have assholes asking for my phone
number. Some guys would even flash their dicks under the table, askin'
me if I wanted to earn a real good tip. It all happened before...But
workin' in that bookstore? Surrounded by sex everywhere. And I mean
magazines with glossy pictures showing everything! Those same guys
will slink around me like I was a minister in a pulpit or something.
Motherfucking Theresa, just waiting to pass judgement. Some of 'em
won't buy a damn thing, once they figure out they gotta talk to me to
do it. Well, there's a few, you know, the show-offs who think I'm in
there for more than $6.35 an hour, but they are very, very few and I
got my shotgun for them too.

But there's damn few women who come around. It just don't happen much
and when it does, they're mostly drunk and stumbling around giggling
with their boyfriends. Never alone. Except that one day, three or four
weeks back, when she came in. All by her lonesome and I fell in love.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Two - Emily

I was frightened the whole time, from the minute I left work and
locked the library doors, until I was back at home, safe in bed with
my new treasure. Berrymore is a large town, but it isn't a city. Just
a town and the people who live here are rather conservative. As the
City Librarian I have a certain respectability to maintain, one that
goes beyond taking books like "Catcher In The Rye" out of circulation
to protect our children.

Our children. I say that like it's true, but it isn't. I don't have a
child of my own, although I suppose I could if I really wanted to. I'm
a woman, 23 and single, with a nice body, pretty face, and friendly
disposition. Men are interested in me and all through college I had to
turn down quite a few dates. So, sure, I could have a child, but
there's problems with that.

First off, I'm a lesbian. In the closet, to be sure, but totally and
irrevocably gay. Another thing is that a respectable woman in this
part of the country does not have a baby by herself. I'm reasonably
sure I'd lose my job rather quickly when people found out. And
finally, most importantly perhaps, is the simple fact that I cannot
trust myself with a child. With a female child particularly. I've
known this since...Ohhh, since I hit puberty at 13, I think. I have a
serious and almost overwhelming attraction for young girls. From
preteens 8 or 9 years old, up through their early teens. Women attract
me, obviously, but in a different way and not as much as a 13 year old
does, that's for certain.

It is a lust that I feel. I won't pretend it's anything else, that
would be an insult. I don't love them, I don't even particularly care
about them as people. I just want their bodies, to touch and kiss...to
pinch and slap. I'm a sadist as well, you may as well know, since I am
bent on being truthful. The idea of making love with a young girl, to
me, includes some things outside the normal realm of sexual relations.
Even for lesbians.

With women of my own age, this is less a factor for some unknown
reason. I can, and I've had, loving, sensual, and altogether
satisfactory relations with women. But a girl, a female child...There
is a switch deep within me that gets turned on. A dark and malevolent
switch that I can't deny or ignore. That's why I don't have a child.
Why I don't spend time alone with one if I can help it. I'm not sure
where I'd stop if I had complete and total access to a girl like that.

So, I have to find other outlets, and in a town like Berrymore, that
means taking a short drive. I hadn't been to the Adult Bookstore
before, but I'd heard about it. A den of evil and mischief, that
seemed to be the most common opinion. But maybe there was something
there, something useful to a woman like me, with evil mischief in her
heart, because that was certainly how I thought of myself. It took me
a long time to work up the nerve. What if someone saw me going in, or
coming out? I'd be ostracized by the community, run out of town on a
rail before sundown. Yes indeed, it took a few months before my lust
had grown large enough to outweigh my fear, but it finally did.

I parked in the back, where it was darker, and wrapped my big old
jacket around me, collar up. I had sunglasses too, for all the good
that would do. It was night and I'd probably walk into a wall, so I
took them off. I watched the back door for a long time, half an hour
at least, and saw no one come or go. Maybe they were closed, I'd
thought, but no. This bookstore was always open at night, just as sure
as the bars were. I didn't even know if they'd have what I was looking
for, I argued with myself. But there was only one way to find out.

Inside it was brighter than I expected, but at least there were no
customers. Just a guy behind the counter, watching TV. He had long
blonde hair covering his face, and I couldn't really see what he
looked like, but I didn't really want to either. I wanted to look
quickly and carefully, finding what interested me, buying it, and
making my getaway before anyone who might recognize me could come in.
I was all alone and this was my chance.

I walked the long aisles, scanning the magazines first. They were
sorted by category, I realized, and it didn't take long to find the
large collection of lesbian material they had. I looked at the titles,
shocked at some of them, the rudeness of it, the crudity, thinking
that they couldn't be serious. But mostly I looked at the pictures,
the covers. I wanted youth. The younger the better. Models over 18
made up to look much younger than they were, that was my interest.
Surprisingly there was more of that than I thought there'd be.

I had a hard time deciding, actually, but settled on three and only
three, because they were expensive, ridiculously so. I had one called
"Susy's First Dildo" featuring teen, golden haired Susy with an older
girl, her sister apparently. Another was "Maggie Likes 'em Young" in
which an older woman was surrounded by three very young looking girls.
And finally, "Asian Sluts in Chains" which had the youngest looking
girl I'd seen on any of the covers. I swear she didn't look older than
13 or 14, chained and ready for some kind of oriental BDSM ritual.
That one was all solo shots of the models, but the others promised
hardcore XXX girl action. I'd have to take their word for it as the
magazines were all wrapped in plastic.

I looked at my watch, deciding to spend five more minutes looking, and
I headed to the DVD section. I was so nervous by then that my mouth
was dry and my heart was pounding. The movies were more interesting,
and thus more expensive, and I found several that I wanted. But I
decided to just get one and I picked something called "Pink Velvet -
The Innocence of Lesbian Love" and while the girls didn't look all
that young, they were exceedingly beautiful, very European, and very
far removed from my little town.

I took my magazines and video to the counter and that was when I
received a real shock. The guy behind the counter wasn't a guy at all!
She was a woman, about the same age as me, and quite attractive
despite the clothes she wore. She looked like, I don't know, a
lumberjack or something. A construction worker, except she couldn't
have weighed more than a hundred pounds. She looked at me too and for
a second there was a connection, but I was already nervous, and
perhaps she hadn't expected it either. So, neither of us did anything
to pursue it, although later on the drive home, and especially in my
bed watching the video, I wished I had.

She rang-up my purchase and I paid cash. She put them in a dark
plastic bag and I gave her a little smile before practically running
out of the place. It was over just that quick. Now I just had to get
home without crashing into something. Oh, the thoughts that go through
a girl's head! What if I got in an accident and the sheriff found me,
dazed and confused and sitting with 75 dollars worth of lesbian porn?
Wouldn't that be funny? No...I drove extra carefully, as if I had more
to lose now than I'd had before.

And later, finding the magazines interesting, but not quite enough to
feed my dark urges, I put the video in. I watched it with the sound
turned way down and rubbed my clit while young beautiful girls, 18 or
19 maybe, kissed and hugged and made love. And I thought about that
woman in the bookstore, dressed like a man and yet so...pretty. So
feminine underneath that poor camouflage. What was she doing working
in a place like that, and why was she in my half-lidded dreams now,
about to make me cum all over my fingers?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Three - Angie

Maybe some folks are just fated. You ever think that? I knew me and
that librarian were fated the second I walked into the library and
seen her. I wasn't looking for her, not by a long shot, but there she
was. Waiting for me.

I'm not sure she recognized me at first. I was going to see the
welfare people, turn in my pay stubs and such. But they close for
lunch and the only places open that didn't cost money was the church
and the library. I didn't figure God would mind if I went in the
library and read a magazine. The preacher wouldn't mind neither and I
knew that for a fact. He'd come into the bookstore four times, as I
recall it. Three times alone to buy somethin' special, and once with
his little flock of sheep to protest somethin' else. Sex, I guess. I
didn't mind it anyways and he appreciated my discretion to the tune of
twenty dollars cash money, under the counter, so to speak.

Anyhow, I wasn't wearing working clothes. I'd dressed nice, the way I
do when I come into Berrymore proper. I had a yellow sundress that I
liked a lot. I hardly ever got to wear it though, so when I had a
chance that day, I did. And a little bit of makeup, just lipstick
really. I'm not much of one for cosmetics. They cost too damn much for
the use I get out of 'em. And some high heels, real ones too, not the
ones that break as soon as you walk out the door. I got these at
Payless and they were nice and black and pushed my butt out the way I
liked.

Like I said before, I'm not real book smart, but I got some sense. It
ain't really common sense, you know, otherwise everybody'd have it.
That guy who wrote Tom Sawyer said that, I think, but don't quote me.
Part of that sense was knowing what I needed to say to the woman in
the library. I'd let her get away before, mostly because she surprised
me. But not this time.

"Hi," I smiled at her, because I knew she didn't recognize me at
first. She had a little name tag that said 'Emily' and below that
'City Librarian' which I took to mean she was the only one. It weren't
a big library anyways.

"Hello," she said before she even looked up. "Can I help you?" And
then she did and I looked into her wild green eyes.

There was a pause then. One of those dramatic kind, when everything in
the world gets real quiet like. Her eyes got big and wide and then she
looked down, turning red all over. It was a sight to see.

"I'm Angie," I was still smiling and I wished she'd look up again, but
she kept lookin' down. I figured she was just shy, like I was sayin'
before, but I knew we had something between us. I'd felt it at the
bookstore and I'd prepared a little something for this meeting without
even knowing it was coming.

Now, I don't think I'm psychic at all, but I could be. Who knows, huh?
But somethin' somewhere, in my head I guess, had told me to do what
I'd done. That's the only thing I can say about it. I didn't know that
I'd see her again, or where I'd be if'n I did, but I had a hunch and
anyway, the county just ain't all that big.

I reached into my purse and opened my wallet, carefully pulling out a
photograph. It was a recent one, just a couple weeks old. I'd used the
Polaroid just for this woman, this here Emily the City Librarian. I
wrote my phone number on the back, using the pen on her desk there,
and I could tell she was watchin' me too, staring at my fingers
painted red and not even a hint of a wedding ring. But she didn't look
up. I pushed that picture, face down towards her on the desk, tapping
it a couple times, and I shrugged a little.

"You be careful with that," was all I said, whisperin' it cause I
didn't want to embarrass her. Folks already knew I was the girl who
worked the porn place, so me just talkin' to the woman was gonna get
around. Anything else was askin' for trouble.

I was trusting the woman, that's a fact, and I don't trust a whole
lotta people neither. There's my shrink, the welfare lady and...Stan,
the fella that owns the bookstore, I guess, and that was about it. But
I was depending on that woman, a total stranger, to keep the biggest
secret I had so far...Although, I weren't exactly sure what that
secret was at the time.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Four - Emily

That the woman from the adult bookstore was in my library came as a
lightning bolt out of the blue. I didn't even realize it was her at
first, she was dressed so differently. The dress she wore was thin,
too thin probably, and I could see the dark hardness of her nipples
just in front of me. I doubted she was even aware of it. And her legs,
they were wonderful and long. Why did she ever hide them, I wondered?

I wanted to say something, anything. But I was afraid of her for some
reason. She knew my secret; she'd seen what I'd bought. Surely she had
an opinion on that! I was sure she was gay, or at least bi-sexual, but
I didn't know what she was up to. Was she hitting on me? Did she want
to blackmail me? And what would I say to her? That I'd masturbated
thinking about her? That I'd felt some strange connection when I'd
caught her soft blue eyes in that store...And now, standing in front
of me...How could I tell her that I wanted to see her, without telling
the entire town?

And then the photo. So it was blackmail, I thought. She had a picture
of me in her bookstore, probably from a surveillance camera or
something. She wasn't hitting on me. She didn't feel any connection.
She was some cheap whore that peddled porn and now she saw the chance
to make a quick dollar. It made me a little angry, sure, but more than
that I was disappointed. I stared at her back as she walked away. I
watched her ass move seductively as she strutted out of the library on
those fuck-me pumps she wore. I hated her right then.

The picture. I very nearly ripped it into a hundred pieces, but what
would be the use? She'd have another, and another, and a dozen more
after that. Where would it end? With me broke and out of a job,
probably. I sighed bitterly, cursing my weakness and my reasons for
going to that bookstore in the first place. It wasn't fair. I was
afraid I was going to cry, so I grabbed the picture, stuffing it
unseen into a book, and walked back into the little room I used to
repair broken bindings and torn covers. I sat on the stool at the
bindery bench, holding the picture and finally, as if punishing
myself, looked at it.

I stared at it, licking my lips and then suddenly sitting up. I closed
the door, moving a couple heavy boxes against it, since it had no
lock. The photograph. I sat back down, holding it carefully and
staring. It was of a girl, maybe 11 or 12 years old, I couldn't be
sure. Definitely just about ready to enter puberty, but not quite
there yet. She was naked, laying on a bed, an adult's bed I thought,
for no real reason. Her breasts were just small bumps on a her chest,
with little dark nipples sticking out. Her legs were spread, exposing
a sweet hairless pussy. No details were visible, just her plump little
slit, but it was lovely like that. She had blonde hair and blue eyes,
long blonde hair, straight like her...Mother's?

I gasped as the realization struck me. Was this girl the woman's
daughter? This Angie who worked in an adult bookstore? Could she have
a daughter this old? This beautiful? I couldn't help myself and I soon
had my skirt up around my hips and my panties down around my knees. I
fingered myself to several quick orgasms while I looked at the girl,
wondering and wishing. She was the one, this girl, the one I wanted,
and her mother, the woman...I wanted her as well. Both of them
together, my heart was screaming, and I shoved two fingers into my
steaming cunt hard, twisting them as another great cum swept over me.

The girl had to be her daughter, I thought. Or little sister? Maybe.
Why else would Angie give me this picture? It certainly wasn't one of
herself, even an old one. There were subtle differences between Angie
and this girl, her nose, the shape of her chin. But the eyes, and the
hair...Even the smile, especially that...Those were all gifts from
Angie, they had to be. And she was offering this girl to me, this
gorgeous preteen. The mother, giving me the daughter, a child I'd
always dreamt of and never thought I could have. Was I asking too
much? My mind was in a whirl, trying to understand it all.

I closed the library at 5pm sharp and almost breathlessly walked the
three and half blocks to my small house. I clutched my purse, and the
photo it contained, closely to my breast, as if someone might snatch
my dreams away. Once inside I picked up the phone, punching the
buttons slowly, carefully, and completely uncertain as to what I might
say when Angie answered.

"Hello?" the voice was soft and sweet and young. It was the child's, I
realized immediately, the girl in the picture and I stared at it as I
listened to her sweet voice.

"Helloooo?" she repeated, sort of sing-song this time.

"Hi there, uh..." I willed myself to calm down. "Is your mother home?"

"Nope. Who's this?" The girl was crunching something in her mouth,
like potato chips, I imagined.

"This is a friend of hers, Emily, from the library," I smiled, even
though she couldn't see it, obviously.

"Oh. I remember you," she said and I was taken off guard by that.

"Really? How's that?"

"From my school last year. We went there and you helped me get a book.
Charlotte's Web, remember?"

I didn't remember that specifically, but I help a lot of girl's find
books too. "Oh, sure. By E.B.White. How did you like it?"

"It was good, but kinda long," she admitted and I stared at her naked
body, so beautiful in her picture.

I laughed softly. "What's your name, dear. I'm afraid I forget things
sometimes."

"That's okay. My mom forgets lots of stuff when we go to the grocery
store," she giggling sweetly. "I'm Jenny."

"Oh, right. With blonde hair, long and very pretty? Of course, I
remember you."

"Yeah," she agreed happily. "You told me that before too. You liked my
hair."

"It's very beautiful. You're a beautiful young woman, Jenny." I
swallowed as I felt my pussy growing damp, my clit starting to burn.
"How uh, how old are you now? You must be 13 already."

She laughed at that, "Nah, I'm just 12, but my birthday's next summer.
Mom says I can get a new bike if I'm good."

"Oh, that'll be nice."

"My old one's broke."

"You know, Jenny, I have a bike here. It's not brand new, but almost,
and if you wanted to use it until your birthday, you can." I didn't
have a bike, but I'd buy one if this girl wanted me to. I'd do
anything for her.

"Really? Wow! Cool!" She was almost gushing over the phone and so was
I, but in a different way, down between my legs. "I'd have to ask my
mom though."

"Oh sure," I nodded to myself. "I'll ask her if it's okay when I talk
to her, how about that?"

"Okay, yeah!" She was smiling, I just knew it.

"What are you doing right now, Jenny? I mean before you started
talking to me?"

"Nothing," she sighed. "Just watching some TV. It's pretty boring here
mostly."

"Oh, I know," I agreed, my voice full of sympathy. "It's boring here
too. I don't even have anyone to talk to here."

"Me neither," she told me. "Mom's working so I have to stay inside by
myself."

"Oh, she leaves you there alone when she goes to work?" I was a little
surprised at that.

"Yeah, mostly. But I don't mind too much, I'm pretty grown up now."
Little Jenny sounded so proud that I had to smile. "When I was little
I cried a lot, but that just made mom mad."

"Yeah, it's hard being little," I told her. "Hard being a mom too
though. Hey, you know I'm here alone every night, so anytime you get
lonely you can just call me, if you want to."

"Oh yeah, okay," she giggled lightly. "But I don't know your phone
number!"

"Here, do you have a pencil?" I waited until she said she did. "Okay
it's 289-6126 and you can give that phone number to your mom too,
okay? I really want to talk with her sometime."

"Why?" Jenny asked and that stumped me for a second.

"Well, because we met in the library today and I liked her a lot." I
wasn't exactly sure what to say, really.

"Oh," the girl almost made it sound like she was disappointed.

"What is it, Jenny?"

"I thought maybe you wanted to talk to her about me," she said and I
blinked hard.

"Uh, why would you think that, dear?" Was she a mind reader?

"Because Mom took my picture before and said it was for a friend of
hers," the girl said.

I forgot to breathe for a long 15 seconds and Jenny apparently thought
I was waiting for something more.

"It was a funny picture though, cause I didn't have no clothes on,"
she giggled and I felt a wave of intense heat flooding through me.

"S-She did?" I stammered slowly. "And you...didn't mind?"

"Nah, it was funny. Mom always does weird stuff," the girl informed
me. "She said it's a secret though, like the other stuff," I could
almost hear her frowning as Jenny suddenly remembered something. "Oh,
I um, I wasn't sposed to talk about that."

"It's okay. Your mom did give your picture to me, Jenny. So you can
tell me anything, okay?" I could barely get the words out for fear
that she'd hang-up on me.

"Mom gave it to you?" the child asked slowly, and it was hard to tell
how she felt about that.

"Uh, yeah, Jenny. She sure did." I felt slightly dizzy and my pussy
dripped with excitement. The girl was smiling in her photo, a 12 year
old, spreading her legs and smiling happily, just for me. "I...I'm
looking at your picture right now."

"Okay. I didn't think you'd like it," Jenny seemed to let out a little
sigh of relief, one that I shared completely.

"No, uh-uh, Jen. I love it very much, thank you." I reached down,
under my skirt and started rubbing my itching cunt through my panties.
"What, um, what other stuff did you mean?"

"Huh?"

"You said the picture was a secret, like some other stuff," I
whispered, barely breathing. "Do you want to tell me about that too?"

"Ummm...Okay, I guess so. Since you got my picture."

"Oh yesss, honey. I got it," I agreed softly.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing, Jen...So what other stuff do you do that's funny?"

"Me and my mom?" she paused, thinking about it. "We sleep together
mostly. That's one thing."

"Sleep together? You mean in the same bed?" My pussy burned and I'd
started undressing one handed as I held the phone tightly against my
ear, not wanting to miss a word.

"Yeah. I don't know why that's a secret though," the girl giggled. "I
like it, but mom sleeps naked, so maybe that's why."

"She does?" I laughed a little too. "Well, that's okay. I do that
sometimes too."

"Yeah, me too."

"It's nice sleeping without clothes sometimes, isn't it? I bet it
feels good snuggling up with your mom like that."

"Oh yeah! She's really hot mostly. And she likes to hug me."

"Well, you're both so pretty, Jenny. I'd like to hug you too." I had
my panties off finally and I rubbed my clit slowly, sinking down to
sit on the floor as I talked with the girl.

"Really? Hugging is nice," she agreed. "Kissing too, but it's sort of
weird too."

"Kissing?" I licked my lips, imagining they were hers. "Kissing is
really nice. Does your mom kiss you?"

"What? Yeah, of course!" Jenny laughed like it was a stupid question,
which I guess it was. "Mostly before I go to school."

"Oh, sure," I sighed, just a little. "I thought you meant at night
sometimes."

"Yeah, then too. But just sometimes. She says we can't do it all the
time."

"Oh? If I was your mom, I'd kiss you every night, Jenny."

"Me too!" She was giggling non-stop and I couldn't get enough of the
girl. "You're pretty nice."

"Thank you. You're pretty nice too."

"Do you know how to movie kiss?" the girl asked.

"Ummm...I don't know. What's a movie kiss?"

"Mom showed me, it's like how they kiss in the movies. The really long
ones, you know?"

"Yeah, I know about that."

"It feels funny though. Makes my tongue tickle sometimes." Jenny
laughed again, and that was a sound I could never tire of, I thought.
"And I get the itch too."

"So you movie kiss with your mom? I see. That's neat," I paused a
heartbeat. "Would you like to movie kiss with me sometime, Jenny?"

"I don't know. Mom said I wasn't sposed to do it with anybody except
her."

"Oh, I understand. Maybe after I talk to your mom, she'll say it's
okay," I suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Jen agreed.

"So then we could movie kiss and it would be our secret too, right?"

"A secret?"

"Well, some people have funny ideas about people kissing like that." I
wasn't sure how to explain that I could probably go to jail just for
having this conversation with her.

"Oh yeah, I know," she said, trying to sound grown-up. "My mom told me
that other people don't like it when two girls movie kiss. But she
said it's okay cause she's my mom."

"Well, it's okay if the two girls are friends too," I told her. "And
we're friends, right?"

"Uh-huh, yeah. I don't have very many friends."

"Do you have a best friend, Jenny?"

"Ummmm...No, not since Karen moved away. She was my best friend
before."

"I see. Well, I don't have a best friend either. We could be best
friends, if you want."

"Me and you?" I couldn't tell if she liked that idea or not.

"Yeah. If we were best friends, we could do all kinds of stuff."

"Could we go camping? I want to go, but Mom doesn't like it. She says
there's too much bugs and stuff. But I went camping before with Karen
and it was fun. We roasted marshmallow's and stuff."

I was chuckling at her enthusiasm and I had to agree, "Of course we
can go camping. I used to go camping when I was a little girl
sometimes. We can make s'mores, do you know what those are?"

"Uh-huh, marshmallows and chocolate. It's good," she told me with a
smile in her voice.

"And graham crackers, yeah. They're really good," I nodded, fingering
myself slowly. "And after that we can sleep in our tent."

"Yeah! In sleeping bags!"

"Uh-huh..." I agreed with a soft laugh. "But it gets kind of cold, so
maybe we could sleep together, like you and your mom do. Would that be
okay?

"Yeah, that's what me and Karen did. But not like me and Mom, cause we
had pajamas on."

"I don't have any pajamas," I laughed. "So maybe I could just sleep in
my underwear."

"Or naked!" Jenny laughed.

"Yeah, or naked maybe," I was getting desperate to cum, and thinking
about crawling naked into a sleeping bag with the girl was driving me
crazy inside. "What time does your mom come home, Jenny?"

"I don't know, pretty late. I have to go to bed at eight o'clock and
she comes home after that. If I don't go to bed and she finds out, I
get a spanking." She didn't sound to happy about that.

"A spanking?" I breathed softly. "Well, sometimes people need
spankings."

"That's what my mom says too. But the only one who ever spanked her
was my Aunt Carol."

"Who's Aunt Carol, Jenny?"

"Oh, she wasn't really my aunt, she was just Mom's best friend. But I
called her that mostly because she stayed here sometimes."

"I see. Did she uh, movie kiss with you?"

"No, my mom said she could, but she didn't want to. But she did it
with Mom a lot though," Jenny didn't sound too happy with Aunt Carol.
"Aunt Carol stayed in my mom's room mostly, so I had to sleep by
myself."

"Ohhh...I see," I said, guessing that Jenny had gotten somewhat
jealous. "Well, if I ever stay at your house, you can sleep with your
mom and I'll sleep in your bed, okay?"

"Really?" she asked. "My bed is little though!"

"That's okay. I'm not very big, Jenny," I assured her, feeling myself
growing warmer as we spoke. "And besides, I bet your bed is soft too."

"Yeah," the girl agreed. "Hey! Maybe me and you could sleep together
in my bed!"

"Ahhh..." I fucked myself harder with that idea, sliding two fingers
in and out of my slippery cunt easily, looking at the girl in the
photo and listening to her high soft sexy voice.

"Are you okay, Emily?" the little girl asked me, a little concerned by
the short gasping sounds I was making over the phone.

"Ohh...yes, Jen..." I replied breathlessly. "I uhhh...just like
talking to you sooo...mmm...so much, Jen."

"I like talking to you too," she giggled.

I rubbed my clit with my wet fingers, making hard little circles
around it with my fingertips, I was going to cum any second. The sound
of my excitement was undeniable and I moaned weakly as my breath came
in short, ragged gasps.

"I...wish I was...w-with you...right now..." I managed to say softly.

"Me too!" she agreed enthusiastically. "You sound funny, are you
exercising?"

I wanted to tell Jenny the truth so badly right then. Tell her how I
was fucking myself silly, imagining us together in her little bed.
Picturing the girl beneath me, sucking my pussy while her mother
watched...That was the thought, the image that pushed me over and I
couldn't answer the child, all I could do was moan a long "Yessss...Oh
God, Jennn! I'm cuh-ummming!"

"Huh?" she was laughing, I vaguely realized. "You're gonna come to my
house?"

And all I could do was sit there, unable to breathe, practically
drooling on the phone I could barely hold in my trembling hand. Oh
yes, Jenny, I promised myself silently, I'd be coming over to visit
you soon, very soon.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Five - Angie

It was slow at the bookstore, which ain't so unusual for the middle of
the week. Friday and Saturday's our busy times. That didn't bother me
none. Less mess to be cleanin' up later back in the arcade. I put
paper towels back there, and there's little trash buckets in every
booth, but men are just pigs by nature. They shoot their stuff
anywhere, even on the little TV screens. I hate cleaning that shit up.

I called Jenny just before eight, like I always do, unless I forget. I
raised her so I wouldn't have to be babysittin' all the time. She
didn't appreciate it none in the beginning, since it took a lot of
spankings and such to learn her right. But she got some brains, that
kid, and that helped. I like to keep track of her though, make sure
she wasn't burnin' the damn trailer down or fuckin' some guy in my
bed. She mighta been just 12 years old, but I already seen the guys
sniffin' around her ass like dogs and it weren't gonna be long before
the little bitch went into heat.

"Hey, Mom!" Jenny sounded happy. Mostly she just sounded bored when I
called, but tonight she was happy and that always got my suspicions
up.

"What'cha doin?"

Least I didn't have to worry about her lyin' to me yet. She had a
good, healthy fear of that little sin. "I'm getting ready for bed. I
was watchin' some TV mostly and talkin' on the phone to Emily."

"Huh?" I didn't expect that, but I wasn't overly worried none. I'd
give the woman the picture for a reason. I was pretty interested in
what they'd talked about though. "You mean the lady works at the
library? What'd she say?"

"She's nice. She said you gave her my picture, too." Jenny was just
talkin' happily away. "She remembered me and everything! From when she
got me that book before? She was looking for you, but I said you was
working and so she just talked to me."

"Okay." I bet Emily remembered my girl real good when she saw the
picture. "What did ya'll talk about?"

"Just stuff. She said she had a bike she could give me! Can I have it,
Mom, please? She said it's almost new and she don't ever ride it.
Please, Mom?"

"We'll see," I promised. "You been good lately, so maybe. Did she ask
you about that picture?"

"Kinda," Jenny didn't sound sure. "She said it was nice and she liked
looking at me. She was exercising or something too."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Emily. She was breathing hard and stuff, sort of making funny noises.
Like when I run a long ways sometimes? She said she was coming too,
but she didn't ever get here yet. You think I should stay up and wait
for her, Mom?"

"She said she was cummin?" I laughed. "She meant she was feelin' good,
Jen, that's all. Remember bout I told ya when girls feel good and they
cum sometimes?"

"Uh, yeah. Sorta," Jenny agreed, but she hadn't really understood it
yet.

"Well, that's what Emily was doing, she was feelin' good cause she was
talkin' to you and that made her cum." I sighed a little cause I
sensed I was confusing the child. "It's hard explainin' all over again
on the phone. Maybe when you see Emily you can ask her about it,
okay?"

"Okay, Mom," she paused a heartbeat. "Why do they call it that?"

"What?"

"Cumming. Why do people call it that?"

I had a good chuckle and shook my head a little. "I dunno, Jen. I
reckon it just sounds better'n goin' maybe. We'll talk about it later.
You need to get your butt into bed. You cook anything?"

"Just some soup."

"Make sure you do your dishes good, I don't want any mess when I get
home. And don't you wait up none, neither. I wanna see your ass under
the blankets, understand me?"

"Yeah, Mom, I already did it. Can I sleep in your bed?"

"Why, somethin' wrong with yours?"

"No!" she laughed.

"You got the itch?" I asked.

"Uh, sorta. When I was talkin' to Emily I got sorta itchy."

I bet she did too. The itch was what we'd taken to callin' those funny
feelings a girl gets when she starts getting older. That little bit of
warmth between her legs, the bit of ache in her boobs, like they're
tryin' to grow up all of a sudden. Sometimes it happens for no good
reason at all. Other times it happens cause you see somethin' you
like. And once in awhile it happens cause you're talkin' to somebody
you think you just might wanna love. Jenny was gettin' the itch more
and more lately, since her last birthday, and I'd scratch it for her
sometimes. Sounded like she was hopin' for a scratch when I got home.

"Alright then, go sleep in my bed. But don't you be hoggin' the sheets
or I'm gonna wake you up."

That girl giggled sweet, I bet Emily had the itch bad after talkin' to
Jenny. "Okay, Mom, I won't. I love you."

"Okay, girl. Make sure you brush your teeth, huh?"

"Yeah. Oh, wait..."

"What?"

"Emily gave me her phone number! She said to give it to you. Do you
want it?"

I wrote the number down and said goodnight to my girl and sold a
Hustler to some kid who couldn'ta been more than 16 or so. He looked
terrified. "You go on, now," I told him. "Next time you come in here,
I'm gonna card you." He nodded and run out the back clutching his
magazine. I didn't really care none, a kid's gotta cum same as a
grownup, I figured. Least he wasn't out rapin' his girlfriend. I
always figured boys 16 or so needed porn more'n just about anybody
else in the world anyway.

I dialed the phone around nine thirty, figuring anything much later
would be rude.

"Hello?" Damn, she had a nice voice, just like in the library that
morning, soft and sweet.

"Hi, Emily."

"Oh. Angie? Hi," she seemed surprised I'd be callin' her. "Are you,
um...off work already?"

"No, I'm still workin'. I called Jenny, make sure she's gettin' to bed
okay and she told me you called."

"Oh, yeah," Emily sounded a little nervous and it made me smile.

"She said you'n her had a nice talk."

"Yeah, she's, uh...Jenny's real nice," the woman agreed.

"I knew you'd like her."

"She said, um, that you took her picture just...just for me," her
voice fell to a whisper. "Why...Uh, why would you do that?"

"Because I figured you'd like it," I took a little breath. "I...I've,
been thinking bout you. Ever since you come into the store."

"You have?" She felt it, same as me. I could hear it in her voice.
"I've been thinking about you too. I mean, ever since I saw you. I
just...I didn't..."

"I know," I let my breath out. "Can I come over?"

"Over here? My place?"

"Yeah. I'll close up early. I really want to see you."

"Yes..." there was a little swallowing sound, "...I live on Elm street,
304, it's right on the corner there."

"I'll find it," I promised. "Just give me bout an hour, okay?"

"Okay. I'll turn on the porch light."

"Okay. Bye, Emily."

"Bye, Angie."

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Six - Emily

I couldn't believe she'd called me so soon. Or that she was coming
over! Angie, beautiful Angie, the mother of the little girl I'd spoken
to just a couple hours before. She'd been thinking about me, she'd
said. I knew what she meant, I understood it completely. It was that
connection we'd felt, right from the first. My heart seemed to beat a
little faster and I took a deep breath and looked around at the little
house I lived in. I needed to get ready!

I'd straightened everything up, made my kitchen neat, vacuumed the
living room, even dusted, almost frantically. I wanted Angie to like
me so badly, to come into my house and be impressed somehow. It was
foolish, I knew, a little juvenile even, but what else could I do? I
cleaned my bedroom, changing the sheets and everything. I took a
shower, a quick one, glancing at the clock every chance I had. Angie
was coming.

I had Jenny's photo on my night stand, just laying there, waiting for
me to use it. I'd masturbated again, after the girl and I had hung up
our phones. I'd lain in my bed, holding her picture and reliving our
conversation, bringing myself to orgasm. I'd do it again too, or so
I'd known before the child's mother had called. I'd go to bed and make
love to Jenny again and again in my head, staring at her picture. I
held it briefly, wondering what I should do with it and decided I'd
leave it right where it was, next to my bed. Angie plainly understood
me well enough; she wouldn't be surprised at all.

When the doorbell rang I was barely dressed and that almost sent me
into a panic. How could I have forgotten to get dressed? The mind
works in strange ways, often missing the most obvious, and all I could
do was grab my bathrobe, tying it around my waist. What would Angie
think, I wondered? Being greeted by me like that. Did it seem
too...aggressive? Too intentional an invitation? Why, oh why, did I
worry so much?

I opened the door and Angie was there, smiling. I suppose I'd expected
her to be dressed as she'd been the first time I'd seen her, working
in the bookstore, but she wasn't. She was wearing a skirt, a simple
white one that fell mid-thigh and had little pleats pressed into it.
She had a dark top, like a t-shirt, that hugged her body tightly,
showing off her full breasts and narrow waist nicely. Her long blonde
hair was loose and recently brushed, and she wore just a hint of
lipstick, not too red. Angie stood in the same high heel shoes she'd
worn earlier, holding her purse by the strap with both hands, and the
entire effect was incredibly sexy.

And I was standing there with damp hair, no makeup, and an old
bathrobe. I groaned inwardly at myself, but Angie didn't seem to
notice anything wrong.

"Hi. Sorry I'm late, I went home first." She looked down at herself,
perhaps feeling a little nervous as well. "I wanted to change."

"Hi. You look great," I told her, feeling a little dazed, actually. A
little overwhelmed. I could smell the woman's perfume, just a little
too strong, a touch too sweet for her. "Uh...Come in, please."

I stood aside as Angie nodded and walked into my living room, looking
around politely. I watched her legs, her ass beneath her skirt, and I
enjoyed the very sweet view. I'm sort of an ass woman, you might say.
I closed the door and turned off the outside light.

"This is nice," Angie said.

"Thanks. Do you want something to drink? Um, I could make some coffee
or...There's some diet-coke in the refrigerator?"

"Oh, ummm...No, that's okay." She'd turned to face me and we just
looked at each other. She was incredibly beautiful, I thought.

"Alright," I nodded. I had no idea what to say, really.

We stood there somewhat awkwardly, just looking at each other. We both
wanted to talk, but this was a little outside our previous
experiences, I think. The girls I'd been with had been friends first,
and later they'd become lovers. I'd never picked up a woman, or let
myself be picked up. I'd never been that bold. And Angie, she seemed
the stronger, the more confident of the two of us, yet she hesitated
as well.

"Do you want to sit down?" I suddenly remembered my manners and the
woman looked at my sofa, more of a love seat really, and nodded. We
sat down together, sitting very close and turned slightly towards each
other. My heart was in my throat.

"I had some girls before," Angie said, as if answering an unasked
question. "Girlfriends, I guess you could say."

"Me too," I nodded quickly. "In college."

"I didn't get to college." She shrugged like it didn't matter and went
back to what she wanted to tell me. "Mostly the women were just
passin' through, you know?"

"One night stands?" I asked and Angie nodded.

"Yeah. Like that." Her eyes were so blue, I thought I was looking at
the sky. "I got my little girl, Jenny, and most of them don't...well,"
she gestured a little helplessly, looking down at her hands. "Women
like that ain't lookin' for a family."

"I understand," I said softly. Women could be an awful lot like men
sometimes.

Angie looked like she had more to say, a lot more, but when she looked
up again, her eyes stared into mine and there was such...feeling, raw
emotion in them, it almost frightened me. "I ain't never been in love
before," she whispered.

There was a fear of rejection there, I realized. Angie had confessed
everything in that simple sentence and waited for me to pass judgment
of one sort or another. She probably felt a little insecure because of
her background, although I didn't know the particulars. It seemed
plain that she'd grown up in a different environment than I had. A
certain distrust would be natural, the same way it had been natural of
me to be suspicious of her earlier, before I'd looked at the photo.

"Can we..." her voice faltered.

I wanted to touch her cheek with my fingers, and my hand moved
slightly, but I resisted. I licked my lips and they moved of their own
accord. "Do you want to make love to me?"

I had meant to say something else, but I forgot what it was when Angie
nodded slowly.

"More than anything," she told me and then her hand caressed my face,
her palm against my cheek, touching me and I tilted my head like a
kitten, pressing against it and sighing softly.

Angie's hand held me still, just with the warmth of skin, and she
leaned towards me with her mouth finding mine. I opened for her, both
of us taking it slowly, tenderly, and her kiss was electric. I melted
into it, my whole body seemingly concentrated in that sudden link
between us. Her tongue slipped into my mouth and we just kissed, her
hand still on my face, for a long minute.

"Where's your bedroom, Emily?" the woman finally whispered as our lips
parted briefly.

We kissed again before I could answer, our tongues playing between us,
our lips barely touching.

"There," I breathed senselessly. And then I smiled as Angie rose,
lifting me with her and following me as I watched her over my
shoulder. I trusted my feet to guide me, unable to keep from looking
at the woman, as if she might disappear somehow before we reached my
bedroom and the promises waiting therein.

I let her be the more aggressive, a role Angie didn't seem to mind,
and her hands slipped inside my robe quickly, finding my bare breasts
and squeezing them as she looked down, into my eyes. I moved my own
hands to her hips, just resting them there, squeezing her ever so
gently through her clothing. It was like a dance almost, the two of us
moving together at the foot of my bed. When she kissed me again,
leaning down, it seemed the most perfect and natural thing in the
world and I gasped into her sweet mouth as she worked my nipples into
twin points of burning desire. They were hard and aching beneath her
fingers, her thumbs rubbing me raw.

"Lie down," she whispered, pushing me slightly so that I sat and then
lay down on my bed, my legs bent at the knees so my feet were on the
floor.

Angie leaned over me, kissing down my face and neck, down to my
breasts. She sucked my nipples tenderly, first the left and then the
right, squeezing the firm globes of my breasts with her hands. I could
only watch, sighing and licking my lips. Her mouth moved lower, her
hands opening my robe as she went, exposing my stomach to her kisses,
and lower still, pulling at my panties and revealing the lightly
furred sex between my thighs. She smiled at me, and kissed the little
mound above my slit.

"You're so beautiful, Emily," she murmured and then she was there, her
lips touching my pussy, Angie's tongue licking along my labia slowly.

I spread my legs wider, whispering soft words of encouragement as the
woman began eating my pussy slowly. There was no hurry for us, we had
all the time in the world it seemed, and it was wonderful. Her tongue
found my clit, flicking across it rapidly, and then more slowly,
teasing it to throbbing ecstasy. Angie's hands were on my thighs,
massaging and prodding the softness there, and occasionally she'd turn
her head, kissing at the soft hollows inside. It felt so good and I
played with my breasts while she brought me closer and closer to
orgasm.

"Oh!" I gasped suddenly as she pushed my legs up slightly, exposing my
anus and her tongue found it, licking at the rosebud of my ass.
Angie's nose brushed across my slit and I could feel her lips, kissing
my ass as she licked me there. She brought a finger to me, sucking it
briefly, coating it with her spit, and then pressing it to my
sphincter. I opened my mouth and arched my back as the woman
penetrated my ass slowly, turning her finger and pressing inward
easily. When she was satisfied, her finger completely in my anus, her
mouth returned to my cunt, and she began eating me in earnest.

Angie stiffened her tongue, fucking it inside me even as she fucked my
ass with her finger. It was intense, the sensations rushing through
me, and her mouth was on my clit suddenly, sucking at me hard and I
thought I'd explode from it. My clitoris ached, the sensitivity
building inside it until it was almost too much.

"P-Please..." I whimpered, "...gently...gently..." It was a necessary
part of our coming together, this learning about each other, and Angie
moved her mouth back to my pussy without apology. None was needed.
When my turn came to please her, I knew she'd tell me what she liked
and didn't...I loved that part of sex. The discovery.

And soon I was cumming, for the hundredth time that long day it
seemed, and I had to move my hands to her head, curling my fingers in
Angie's hair. It screamed through me, flooding her mouth with my
juices as my body let go. She stayed with it, letting me grind my cunt
to her hungry mouth, my ass squeezing her finger as I tensed with
pleasure. It took a long moment to pass and Angie didn't stop, if
anything she seemed determined to prolong it. She brought her other
hand down, pushing two fingers into my pussy and lifted her face,
shining with wetness to smile at me.

All I could do was moan louder, my body jerking as I hunched myself up
against her fingers. The tender flesh inside me being stretched
beautifully as she twisted and turned her fingers, curling them to
find the secret place inside me, brushing it and bringing another
quick release. I had three or four orgasms in quick succession that
way, until I could see nothing but an explosion of lights behind my
tightly closed eyes. I rolled on the bed, twisting with little spasms,
shaking uncontrollably and crying out loudly with pleasure.

Only then, when I'd been practically exhausted by the woman, did Angie
slow and finally stop. She pulled her fingers from my ass and pussy
slowly, licking and sucking her hands clean. She crawled up, across my
prone body, still fully clothed herself, and straddled my breathless
form. She stroked my face and held my head and kissed me, whispering
soft words of love. I responded softly, with ragged sounds to express
my appreciation and desire. I had never felt so good, never felt so
loved by anyone before in my life. I wrapped my arms around my sweet
Angie, my sweet angel, and I held her as we kissed.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Seven - Angie

The girl tasted good, there was no denying that. I didn't even bother
takin' off my clothes, she was so tired. Emily had been through a lot
that day, I figured, and after I brought her off a half dozen times, I
knew she weren't gonna have the energy to do me. But that was okay
too. I was soaked and aching for a little cum of my own, but I could
wait.

I moved up the bed, pulling her with me and just held her. She curled
up in my arms like a little kitty, all soft and warm and smellin' like
sex. Her face was flushed and I kissed her lips, taking the bottom one
in my teeth, just a little, and chewin' real gentle. I rubbed her
hips, her back and down her thighs, coaxing Emily to go ahead and
sleep. Next time it'd be my turn, I told her, and she could show me
how much she loved me then.

It was gettin' close to midnight and I was needin' to get home anyway.
I'd been down on that woman for a good hour, more'n an hour really,
and my tongue felt a little swollen. Funny how it does that, ain't it?
Probably cause I hadn't been with a woman in almost six months. Laying
there with Emily, I didn't figure I'd ever be with another woman
again. Just her.

And like I say, she was ridden hard and put away wet, so I pulled her
sheets up, covering Emily before I kissed her goodbye. She smiled,
just a little, but she was mostly sleepin' already. I slipped off her
bed, feeling my panties damp between my legs. I saw the photograph of
Jenny that I'd given her, right there on her night stand, and I
smiled. I wasn't much of a mother, I knew that, but Emily would be, I
was sure. She'd love that girl a whole lot more than I ever could. And
they'd do other things too, secret things. I could see it in Emily's
sweet face. She had the need for my little girl and I weren't gonna
come between them. I was lookin' forward to seeing it, truth be told.

I reached under my skirt, pulling my panties down and steppin' out of
them. They'd gotten wet alright and I held them to my nose, inhaling
the strong, musky smell of my own natural sex. I smiled and put them
on the night stand next to Jenny's picture, right where I knew Emily'd
find them first thing when she woke up. She could look at our girl and
smell my pussy, taste it probably too, and play with that sweet tight
cunt of hers. I knew she would. And the next time we got together,
we'd talk about what we were gonna do about being in love with each
other...and lovin' Jenny too.


End

http://www1.asstr.org/~rache/index.htm
rache696@yahoo.com

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