CALIFORNIA GIRL 4
This is a work of lesbian fiction. None of the characters or scenarios actually existed. If you are offended by stories involving young lesbian girls and their female lovers, please stop reading.
(Lesbian High School)
The year was 1970. Beautiful, blonde, 20-year-old USC sophomore, Alison Palmer, had avoided returning to her old beach community neighborhood since she had returned to Southern California for college.
Alison wasn't quite sure why she had never visited after having been back in the L.A. area for more than a year and a half. Having moved to Phoenix with her family during her junior year of high school, Alison's earlier days almost seemed as though they belonged to someone else.
"Guilt. That's all it could be," Alison surmised. Guilt that she had hid her promiscuous, closeted teenage lesbian life from her parents; Guilt because she had very willingly allowed herself to be seduced by 36-year-old child psychologist, Dr. Susan Foster; And most of all, guilt because she had turned out a pretty, preteen 12-year-old girl that she had been babysitting, and had later enticed the 7th grader to join in on the lesbian partner swaps and orgies with Susan and her small cadre of lecherous lesbian friends.
Still a very active, if closeted, lesbian, Alison had purposely moved to a Santa Monica apartment to be closer to the westside Lesbian bars and clubs that had been popping up since the 1940's. With her beautiful, tan, beach-blonde, golden features, Alison had no problem in attracting some of the prettiest "femme" lesbians and straight girls in the city.
Thanks in part to the entertainment industry, Los Angeles had a very lively lesbian scene, with young, aspiring actresses, models, and entertainers arriving daily from all over the country. They were very often quickly snatched up by wealthy or famous predatory lesbian women when their dreams of instant stardom went unfulfilled, and they found themselves working as a poorly-paid waitresses or restaurant hostess, and were in need of a nice meal or rent money without the fear of getting pregnant.
It was nearly 3:00 p.m. when Alison pulled into the student parking lot of her old high school. It had been nearly four years since she had last been to the campus. Having not seen or heard from Carrie Connors since then, Alison was rolling the dice by hoping to see the teenage girl at the school exit. For all Alison knew, Carrie was attending a different high school or might have even moved out of the area.
Patiently watching the parade of high school girls, some of whom were very attractive to the young lesbian, Alison wondered what Carrie might look like now, after four long years.
After a while, a very pretty brown-haired teen emerged through the school gate, talking animatedly with a female friend. The girl was clutching her schoolbooks in front of her chest. Her ponytail was tied by a green ribbon, and she was wearing an emerald green and white cheerleader outfit. It was clearly Carrie Connors!
Carrie, always tall for her age, had seem to have grown another four or five inches, and the long-legged tan teen looked to be around 5'9" to Alison. Carrie still possessed the pretty face that Alison remembered, and the 20-year-old college girl could feel a familiar stirring as she looked at her former 12-year-old lover.
Alison very slowly drove her Ford Mustang toward the fresh-faced teen. Rolling down her car window, the beautiful, blonde 20-year-old smiled at Carrie and asked, "Wanna ride?" Carrie was flustered, but did her best to hide it. Turning to her school friend, she said, "I'll call you tonight, Cheryl," and walked around to the passenger door.
Carrie was silent when she closed the car door. As Alison drove away, the blonde 20-year-old broke the awkward silence by saying, "It's been a long time. You look really pretty."
That was all of the entrée that Carrie needed to unload her feelings: "You really hurt me, Alison. You never called and you never wrote. You just left me with Susan and her so-called friends who couldn't keep their tongues out of my little pussy. I was barely 13."
"I know. I'm sorry," Alison said genuinely. "I was still in high school and I couldn't risk my parents or anyone finding out that I liked girls." Carrie seemed to understand. She, herself, had always been concerned that her secret life would be discovered, and also knew that no one had forced her to do anything. She was a very willing and promiscuous participant at a very young age.
"I don't do that anymore," Carrie said indignantly to the college girl. "I'm a cheerleader, as you can see, and I have a boyfriend who loves me." Alison said, "Oh, I see" suspiciously. She had rarely met a girl or woman who had so enthusiastically enjoyed engaging in lesbian sex.
The girls continued to talk as Alison drove around aimlessly. Carrie was surprised to learn that Alison had been back for more than a year and half. "I go to SC," Alison explained. Asked about surfing, Carrie explained that she had to give it up due to a back injury. The news saddened Alison, as she knew that Carrie was once a very talented junior surfer.
After what must have been 30 minutes, Alison pulled up in front of Carrie's home. Her mother was looking out of the kitchen window when she saw the car stop in front of her house. Alison wanted to kiss or at least touch Carrie, but instead handed the now-16-year-old a piece of paper with her phone number and address. Again, Carrie tersely said, "I don't do that anymore" as she exited the car.
Entering her house, Carrie's mother inquired, "Who was that?" "Remember Alison Palmer?" Carrie asked. "She's going to USC now, and decided to drive around the old neighborhood." Mrs. Connors seemed pleased that the pretty girl still remembered her much-younger daughter, and thought back happily to the time that Alison had bailed her out by babysitting Carrie for nearly a week while she and her husband attended to Carrie's ill grandmother.
Remembering Susan's after-school routine, Alison looked at her watch. It was nearly 4:00 p.m. when she headed to Dr. Foster's home. She observed that Clementine, Susan's beloved Yorkie, was not barking from the back yard as she rang the doorbell.
The door was answered by an attractive, cheerful blonde woman who was in her late 20's or very early 30's. Alison was surprised to meet the stranger and wondered if Susan had moved? Um, Alison stammered, "Is Sus... Is Dr. Foster here? I'm an old friend."
Inviting the young, pretty blonde into the house, the younger woman called out, "Susan, there's someone here to see you." The woman introduced herself as Pamela and asked Alison to sit down. Alison introduced herself to Pamela, awkwardly saying that she used to walk Dr. Foster's dog when she was in high school.
Knowing Susan, Pamela looked at the pretty girl and wondered if there had been more to it than what Alison had said, "Unfortunately, Clementine passed away a little more than a year ago." Pamela informed the younger girl. Alison felt gut-punched.
Susan emerged from the bedroom. It was clear that she had just changed into some casual clothes after returning from her job as a school psychologist.
Having overheard Alison from the other room, the older woman reiterated that Alison used to walk Clementine before she moved away. Susan pretended not to remember that Alison had moved to Phoenix. In the intervening years, Susan had thought many times about taking one of the regional airlines to Phoenix to try to find the beautiful, sun-kissed beach girl for one more passion-filled fling.
The years had been mostly kind to the now-40-year-old woman. She still had an enviable body, but her face now seemed a little more care-worn than Alison remembered.
Alison told the women that she was now a sophomore at USC, and was a member of the Gamma Delta sorority. Alison made no mention of where she lived or her increasingly active lesbian sex life. It seemed pretty clear to Alison that Susan was in a live-in relationship with Pamela.
"Have you had a chance to see much of the old neighborhood?" Susan asked. "Not yet, but I want to," Alison eagerly replied. "Let's go for a little drive," Susan said. Pamela said nothing, but was more than a little mistrustful.
Susan and Alison sat comfortably in Susan's big, Lincoln Continental as they drove through the neighborhood. "You look absolutely stunning," Susan said genuinely. "Thanks," Alison replied. "Tell me about Pamela," Alison inquired.
Susan took a cleansing breath before saying, "I decided to settle down about two years ago. I'm not getting any younger. I love Pamela, and so she moved in. We've been very happy." Alison asked if it had been problematic living openly with a woman, Susan replied: "It's not 1966 anymore. No one cares."
Looking at the pretty blonde, Susan said, "I'm so sorry that I got you mixed up in all of that. I've always regretted it. You were so young... not to mention little Carrie. I'm sure I'll go to hell for that."
Alison tenderly placed a hand on Susan's thigh, and said: "Would it surprise you if I told you that I had enjoyed it?" Taking that as an opening, Susan eagerly asked the gorgeous blonde, "Would it be possible for us to meet?" "I don't think so," Alison ungraciously replied, ending the conversation.
Pamela was relieved when Susan's car pulled up after only 15 or so short minutes. She would never be completely sure that Susan was remaining faithful to her, but this in this instance there wouldn't have been enough time to have done anything with the pretty, blonde, college girl.
Alison thanked Susan for the ride around the neighborhood and said loudly for Pamela's benefit, "It was so great to see you after all of these years." The two women gave each other a brief, neighborly hug. They both knew that they would never see each other again.
Driving back to Santa Monica, Alison wrote off the nostalgic trip as necessary, but definitely a bust. She was not interested in being Susan's secret plaything, and Carrie had clearly moved on in her brief life. "I guess you can't go home again," Alison thought to herself.
May would be an eventful month for Alison, with her sophomore year of college concluding, Alison would be very surprised by two unexpected developments that would soon transpire.
After days and weeks of studying for her upcoming finals, Alison had given herself an evening off, and had picked up a pretty, aspiring folk singer at one of the lesbian bars the night before.
It was not quite 8:00 a.m. at Alison's Santa Monica apartment. The two naked women were still sleeping intertwined after a feverish night of stress-relieving sex.
Unknown to the sleeping women, a male figure had appeared at Alison's second-floor door. Preparing to knock, the individual instead reached for the door handle. In her haste, Alison had forgotten to lock her apartment door. Seeing that it was unlocked, he cautiously entered the quiet apartment, a suitcase was in his hand.
"Allie?" He softly asked. There was clearly no one in the small living room area or kitchen. Seeing an open door, he walked to the doorway of Alison's bedroom. He was shocked beyond words to see his sister naked in bed with a petite, red-haired hippie girl who had her hand on Alison's boob. The sheets and bedcovers had been kicked down during the night, and there was nothing to cover their naked bodies.
Instinctively, he raised his voice and nearly shouted, "Alison!" He was still processing what was going on, and wanted to make sure that his older sister was alright.
Alison woke up, and saw her nearly-17-year-old younger brother standing in the doorframe. Scrambling to cover herself with whatever she could find, she exasperatingly asked, "Timmy. What are you doing here?" The noise awakened the sleeping redhead, who smiled at the handsome teenage boy in the door frame. Unconcerned about her nudity or that fact that she had clearly recently had sex with the other woman in the bed, the young woman yawned, giving the high school boy an unencumbered view of her freckled breasts and strawberry-colored bush.
"Timmy. Give me a minute, and close the door." Embarrassed for both of them, Timmy closed the door and sat wordlessly on Alison's couch.
In a few minutes, the red-haired folk singer walked through the bedroom door. Still naked, she began to pick up her clothes that seemed to have been discarded in a trail to Alison's bedroom, like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs.
Unflustered, the hippie girl slipped on her panties before saying in a nasally New York accent, "Hiya, I'm Stardust." Timmy tried to be gallant and look away, but as a high school junior, he didn't get to see naked women every day.
Walking up to the attractive blonde-haired boy, Stardust briefly ran her fingers through Timmy's tousled hair. "You're cute," she said. Turning her eyes to the bedroom, and assuming that he was also one of Alison's lovers, she said, "Ever fucked two girls? Wanna go back in?" Her pink boobs were practically pressed in his teenage face.
"She's my sister," Timmy curtly replied. Looking at the boy, she said, "Oh ya, I see the resemblance." Clutching Timmy's aroused package, "Too bad," Stardust said.
The aspiring hippie folk singer had spent most of 1969 living in a commune, and was not particular about sharing her physical charms with both men and women.
Stardust stroked Timmy's face and then continued to dress. Running her hands through her curly red hair, Stardust soon exited the apartment in search of a cab.
"God damnit," Timmy thought. "I could have gotten laid." Sitting back on the couch, the few minutes seemed like an hour before Alison came out of the bedroom. She had washed her face, and brushed her beautiful blonde hair before facing her younger brother. Alison was holding tightly to the short, black robe that she was now wearing. It was the only one that she owned, and it was barely long enough to extend past her panties as she sat carefully next to Timmy on the couch, her knees tightly pressed together.
It was quiet for a moment before Alison finally said, "Let me go first. Timmy, what are you doing here?" The high school boy said that he was in Los Angeles for a recruiting visit to UCLA. "They might offer me a baseball scholarship. Mom, Dad, and I thought it would be fun if I surprised you. I'm sorry."
"Well, you surprised me," Alison said with a labored chuckle. Her tightly-held secret was now out to her little brother, of all people.
"What is going on?" Timmy finally asked. "Are you a... a dyke?" "I prefer the term lesbian, but yes. I like girls. I think I've always liked girls." Alison answered.
"Do Mom and Dad know?" Timmy asked. "No," was all that Alison could reply. Suddenly, things began to fall into place for Timmy. He had always wondered why a stunningly beautiful girl like his sister had never had a steady boyfriend. This would certainly explain it, he thought.
"Well," Timmy said, "If it helps, it doesn't make any difference to me. You're still my big sister."
Alison reached across to wrap her arm around Timmy's shoulder. She loved him deeply, and he had been her best friend when she was a very confused teen. Inadvertently, Alison's black robe opened, revealing a naked, tan, B-cup breast. For a brief moment, Timmy imagined Stardust's lips on Alison' breast.
"Want some breakfast?" Alison said cheerily. Her white panty-clad butt cheeks peered out from the robe as she walked to the kitchen.
Making a brief visit back to her see her parents in their Phoenix home during the summer break, Alison sat her parents and Timmy down to tell them of her secret life. She appreciated that Timmy had not spilled the beans, allowing her to tell her own story.
Alison went into no details about her promiscuous, one-night stands and frequent sojourns to L.A.'s lesbian clubs and bars. "I think I've always known that I was attracted to girls," then added cryptically, "I knew for sure when I was 16."
Timmy thought back to Carrie Connors. He had always wondered why she had begun to avoid him after Alison had spent nearly a week babysitting her. "Nah. Couldn't be," he thought. "We were just in the 7th grade back then."
Alison's conservative parents didn't take the news easily, but they didn't shout or disown her either. It would take some painful time, but they would eventually accept her decisions and relationships. They just wanted their little girl to be happy.
Alison had made it clear that her life was now in Los Angeles, and she had the funds to sustain it. As they knew, Alison was working in small parts on several TV shows. They had been proud to tell their friends and neighbors in advance when their beautiful daughter would be appearing on TV.
It was a late Tuesday morning. USC was in their summer break, and Alison was lounging in her apartment. On that particular day she had no television tapings or auditions to attend when there was a quiet knock on her Apartment 203 door.
Allie was very surprised to see Carrie standing in her doorway. The 16-year-old had matured nicely in the four-year period since they had last made love. No longer flat-chested, Carrie was now carrying a full A-cup on her taut frame.
Golden-tanned, the 5'9" girl stood wordlessly in the doorway. Carrie was dressed in a powder-blue miniskirt and white-patterned blouse, and wearing ballet slipper flat shoes. Carrie's beautiful, straight, shoulder length brown hair was parted in the middle, as was the fashion at the time for teenage girls.
"Come in," Alison said quietly. She was surprised to see Carrie, and frankly, confused to see her. It had been about three months since Alison had appeared at Carrie's high school. The visit hadn't gone well. Did Carrie want to berate her again?
Alison walked to her couch and invited the pretty teenager to sit down. Having not said a word, and still standing, the brunette 16-year-old began to unbutton her white blouse. Placing it neatly across a chair to keep it from getting wrinkled, Carrie was now dressed in just a white bra and powder-blue miniskirt as she reached for her zipper.
As her miniskirt fell to the floor, she repeated the process of laying it neatly on the chair. Carrie was wearing nude pantyhose over a pair of white bikini panties.
Looking at Alison, Carrie suddenly spoke: "Are you just going to sit there?" Alison quickly rose and unhooked Carrie's bra, releasing her modest, teenage breasts. "They've grown," Alison said as her two hands greedily squeezed Carrie's tan-lined A-cup boobs.
Passionately kissing the teenager's neck, Alison descended upon Carrie's perky, cone-shaped breasts, enthusiastically licking and sucking Carrie's little boobs and brown nipples. The 16-year-old moaned with pleasure before inexplicably murmuring, "I've always loved you." "Me too, kid. Me too," Alison replied.
Getting on her knees, Alison began to carefully lower Carrie's pantyhose. Alison was being very careful not to cause a run in the stockings with her fingernails.
Moving Carrie's white panties aside, Alison began eagerly licking the teenager's hairy brown pussy. The last time that Alison had tongued Carrie's juvenile pussy, her pubic hair hadn't come in yet.
Holding onto the top of Alison's bobbing blonde head, Carrie suddenly felt self-conscious standing in the living room having cunnilingus performed on her. "Have you got a bedroom?" Carrie asked. Alison was somewhat embarrassed of her unromantic "attack" of the high school cheerleader.
Reaching for Carrie's hand, Alison rose from her knees and led the teenager into her bedroom. Carrie removed her panties. She would never know how many women had shared that bed with Alison. Alison was wearing shorts, and was braless under her baggy USC t-shirt, which she quickly removed to join Carrie on the bed.
Carrie, not inexperienced in the ways of lesbian sex, climbed atop Alison's slender body in the 69 position and began intently licking Alison's blonde pussy. With Carrie's pussy and firm butt cheeks now in her face, Alison began probing around with her impatient fingers before resuming licking Carrie's teenage pussy.
Likewise, Carrie introduced her finger, alternating licking and finger-fucking the college girl. Alison had increasingly become anal-fixated with her lesbian partners, and licked around Carrie's anus before moving her tongue in and out of the teenager's rectum and inserting her eager fingers.
Carrie had been similarly licked by one of Susan's more experimental friends, and was very willing to allow Alison to do whatever she wanted, and use whatever techniques she had learned in the past four years.
After making love in a few different positions, Alison rolled onto her back to rest. Carrie bent over to kiss the blonde 20-year-old, saying, "I can't stay very long. I told my mom that I was going somewhere else when I borrowed the car." Alison smiled. She was somehow happy that Carrie had lied to be with her, if only for the afternoon.
Alison put her hands behind her head as the two began to talk. Carrie was using her finger to trace circles around the blonde beauty's pink areolae and nipples. "I saw you on the Partridge Family," Carrie said. "Oh that," Alison said bashfully. "I was able to film a couple of things. It was pretty good money. I used it for school."
Alison purposely failed to mention that she had participated in a lesbian threesome with the wife of a famous Hollywood Producer, and that the television roles had been a gift of appreciation.
With Carrie living at home and still in high school, there were few opportunities for the two girls to get together in the next few years, but Carrie would surreptitiously phone Alison whenever she could. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
After graduation, Alison put her acting career aside to accept an entry-level position at Paramount Studios. She would attain increasing responsibility while facilitating television shows like the Brady Bunch, and a ten-year run with Little House on the Prairie, before moving into executive roles at the studio. Pretty, 17-year-old Maureen McCormick, who played Marcia Brady, didn't go unnoticed by Alison, but she had matured enough to risk her career for underage actresses.
Following high school, Carrie would attend the nursing program at Long Beach State, eventually becoming an RN at a local hospital. Carrie and Alison had managed to stay in touch, and began openly dating when Carrie was 22 and Alison 26. Two years later they would move in together, and would live happily for the rest of their lives, with Alison retiring from Paramount in 2015, and Carrie from the hospital in 2019.
The End.
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