This is a story about the sexual awakening of a young woman. If you either; A) aren't into that, B) aren't old enough to be reading it, or C) can't read, you should really stop here. If you liked (or hated) this story, drop us a line at ybother1122@yahoo.com. Don't take anything you read here too seriously, we certainly didn't.
Big thanks to everyone who wrote to us. There's nothing better for a writer than feedback. Remember that when you read other stuff at Nifty.
Heather sat on the aisle seat between Steven and Denise, plugging her nose and swallowing to clear her sinuses as the 747 taking them back home finally reached cruising altitude. Denise had insisted on taking the window seat and Steven counseled Heather not to make an issue of it as they boarded.
"She has a hard time leaving vacations," he whispered to the girl as he stowed their carry on bags. "She'll be cranky if she doesn't get the window."
Heather understood; she had a hard time leaving Sabine Maas' Rio home too.
Steven and Denise had dropped Heather off at her home just as a UPS truck was pulling away. She lugged her suitcase to the door, fumbled with her keys, and let herself in.
There, on the floor next to the hall closet, was her original suitcase. The handle was festooned with airport tags from five different airports on two continents. She stooped down and opened it to see the last thing she had packed, her old green one-piece bathing suit. It made her smile.
God that's big, she thought.
She jumped to her feet as an ear-splitting shriek filled the air.
"WHO THE HELL ARE...Heather?"
Heather turned to see her friend, Christine, standing at the end of the hall. She had dropped the dog's bowl, bringing the collie scampering to lap up the food that had fallen over the floor. When the dog saw who had come through the door he rocketed to Heather's side, yipping and jumping with canine glee.
"There's my Woody," she knelt to greet the overexcited collie, "There's the Woodster!"
"What the hell happened to you?" Christine asked, scooping up dog food from around her feet.
"What do you mean?" Heather came over and started to help her friend clean up the mess on the floor. The dog was not helping, alternately snapping up kibble and nuzzling the girls' faces.
"What was it, Extreme Makeover Brazil?"
Heather stood up and caught a look at herself in the full-length mirror in the living room. There was a long-legged girl in a short skirt. She had a tan just turned from a red to a soft brown and the sun had streaked blondish accents into her hair. The sunglasses, she realized, were fairly expensive-looking.
"Well..."
Up in her bedroom, Heather and Christine unpacked the contents of the lost luggage while she told the story of Danny's altered plans, the missing suitcases and Sabine Maas' house on the beach. Heather skirted a lot of the details. The short, plump, curly haired brunette had been her friend since grade school and she didn't want to let her know exactly what the parties had been about.
"So this woman bought you a whole new wardrobe?"
"Just stuff to wear while I was there, just two weeks worth," Heather said as she put the green swimsuit deep into her closet. "She owned a whole block of clothing shops, I'm sure she dressed me in overstock."
"This is overstock?" Christine had opened the new suitcase and lifted the blue party dress out. Her eyes were wide, "Chanel does not make overstock."
Heather looked at the dress and realized she didn't remember packing it. Reflexively, she stroked the silky flank, "I guess she must have packed that."
She took the dress and carefully hung it in her closet; she thought of the night she wore it, the dinner and the swim in the moonlight. She was pulled from her reverie when she heard her friend, "ooh, pictures!"
A wave of electric horror shot through Heather. She hadn't taken any pictures. She didn't remember anyone taking any pictures. She turned around carefully, slowly.
Christine held up a snapshot, "Who's this?"
She was holding a picture of Sabine. The woman was gesturing with a knife in one hand and a lime in the other. The picture was taken in the kitchen. Heather was relieved to see the woman was wearing one of her ubiquitous art smocks.
They flipped through a collection of photos Heather never noticed being taken. There was Solique in the market buying fruit with Steven and Denise. There were several pictures taken on the Admiral's sailboat featuring Catherine at the helm and Kitten sitting at her knee.
All of the pictures featured fully-clothed, if affectionate, vacationers. Christine stopped at one of the pictures taken on the horse ride into the mountains. She was looking at a picture of Jaime, he was framed from above and behind by the city's famous statue of Christ.
"Who is THAT?"
"That's Jaime," Heather said.
"He's beautiful."
"He's a really sweet guy," Heather said. "And yes, he is that hot."
"It looks like you had a really great time," Christine said. "If I were you I would have stayed there. I mean, it's just such a wonderful OH MY GOD!"
There was a picture of Heather and Solique standing on the beach holding drinks and mugging for the camera. Heather, after her immediate fear of a picture of group sex photo passed, and didn't see what the cause for shock was.
"You wore that?"
Heather laughed, "Yes."
"Was that a thong?"
"Not really, let me show you." Heather said, rooting through her bag. She came up with her blue suit and a green one tangled up in it. It was Solique's suit. She untangled hers and held it up. "It's a French cut."
"I can't believe you wore that in public," Christine said, shaking her head and stifling a laugh. She picked up the green suit, "Who's was this?"
"That's Solique's suit, I must have picked it up by mistake," Heather said. There was no French cut about this suit. Solique loved to show her body and wriggled her curvy bottom into a tiny green g-string and matching top every morning before going out to the beach. She was a lot of girl and she wanted to make sure everyone could get a good look.
"You know..." Heather said, cocking her eye at her childhood friend, "I think this would fit you."
Christine honestly didn't know what Heather meant.
Coaxing Christine out of the bathroom took nearly 10 minutes, twice as long as it took Heather to talk her into trying it on. She went through three different arguments (the winning being "I've seen you naked already"), before Christine poked her head out the door.
"You can't tell anyone about this," she said. "Oh..."
While she was in the bathroom, Heather had put on her bathing suit and was waiting with her hands on her hips. Chastised, Christine stepped out from behind the door, her arms covering her chest.
Heather pulled her into the room, in the process pulling the girls hands away from her breasts. Christine's skin was covered in goose bumps and the blush on her face was creeping down her chest.
"Look at you," Heather said approvingly. "You look fantastic in that."
Christine mumbled something to the contrary while she kept her eyes on the floor. Christine had always been a round girl, but her approaching womanhood had moved her baby fat around in interesting ways. Her breasts were slightly larger than the top was made for and they stretched the small green triangles. Her thighs were wide, but the skin was smooth and well-shaped.
I wonder, Heather thought, would little boys fawn over Christine the way they fell over Solique? It made her smile to think of how boys too young to know what a woman was knew she was what they wanted in a wife.
Heather cast her eyes over Christine's soft, bare ass and smiled, "Oh, you would have been popular in Rio."
"Stop," Christine moaned, "I look terrible."
Her hands drifted over her abdomen, where she carried a small paunch. Heather noticed that it accentuated her hips and drew the eye downward to the small green patch covering her pussy.
That made Heather think, "Christine, do you shave?"
"I always shave my legs, otherwise they get really gross," she said.
"No," she said, pointing to the girl's crotch. "Do you shave your pussy?"
Christine flinched at the word, "What?"
Heather indicated her own suit, "I had to shave to wear this, otherwise it sticks out the sides."
Christine's eyes were locked on Heather's hips, "No, I don't grow a lot. I'm going to get out of this now."
"You should keep that suit," Heather said, stopping the girl from stepping back into the bathroom. "It really looks great on you."
"My butt is hanging out," she complained.
Heather smiled and turned her friend around; she patted the girl's bottom gently. "Solique would say you've got a pretty, white girl butt."
When Heather turned back to look into Christine's eyes she saw something brittle and bright there. They were wide and she was barely breathing, "She would think I'm pretty?"
Heather smiled softly and slid her hand down, thumb tracing along the fabric of the bathing suit, to cup underneath Christine's ass, "I think you're beautiful."
She leaned in and kissed her friend's cheek. The girl mumbled something, Heather was sure of that. With her other hand she held Christine's cheek and kissed all around her face. She ended up at her lips, pushing them open and letting her tongue slide around.
The girl went rigid as Heather pulled her into her arms and kissed her deeply. Heather wondered if this is how she acted when Denise gave her her first kiss. Christine's lips and tongue were shivery and trembling, her hands fumbled at nothing between them.
Heather reached down and gripped her friend's ass gently, stroking and kneading them as she backed the girl towards the bed. Christine, trying to squirm in every direction at once was shocked to realize she had been grinding her chest against Heather. She fell onto the bed as soon as the back of her knees touched the mattress.
Heather knelt at the edge of the mattress over her friend and smiled, "Don't be nervous, I'm not going to bite you."
With that, she pulled off her bikini top and lay across the girl, peppering kisses over her neck and face. Christine started to protest when Heather pulled the triangle of green fabric away from her right breast and began to suck.
"Ohhh," she quailed, beginning to shake. "H-Heather!"
Heather ran her hand down Christine's flank to rest on the soft curve of her thigh. The skin was covered in a downy hair that caused a shudder when she barely touched it, sending Christine's hips dancing. Heather took a long, swirling lick around each of her hard nipples and smiled.
"You're so sweet," she said. "Were you this squirmy when you did it with Dave Warren?"
Christine was put off track by the question, "We didn't really do anything."
Heather pushed her breasts together to kiss both nipples at once, earning another squeal, "I thought you said you had sex with him."
"We made out and stuff," she started, managing as much shrug as she could. "I touched his...you know, and he, you know..."
"What?"
"He came right there," the blush returned to her face and chest.
Heather laughed, "He came all over your hand?"
Christine's face went through a series of changes that told the rest of the story.
"You were kissing it, weren't you? You were sucking his cock and he came in your mouth!"
Christine went a deep red and turned away. Heather nuzzled her breasts, "That will happen. When I was at Sabine's house there was a boy who came over to paint the guest cottages. I was out by the pool when he was taking his break and he was nice enough to put suntan lotion on my back for me."
"And?"
"Well... he did such a nice job I had to give him a kiss. Things happened and I gave him a blowjob," Heather said.
"You didn't!"
"I did," Heather said. "It was OK, but while I was doing it Solique came up behind me and licked my pussy. That's when he came in my mouth."
Christine's eyes were wide, "You had s-sex with a boy and a girl at the same time?"
"Well, we got derailed for a little bit," Heather said. "But we kissed for a while and we used the suntan lotion on Solique. That made him hard again and he put it in her butt. Well, I put him in her butt."
Heather described the scene of her stroking the boy's cock as he kissed Solique. She guided her friend to her hands and knees, gently bending her over the side of a chaise lounge. She put another coating of the slippery lotion onto him before guiding the tip of his cock against the small opening at the center of Solique's jiggling brown bottom. The girl squealed and tensed as he entered her. Heather draped herself over Solique, kissing her cheek, one hand cupping a breast while the other swirled quick circles over her clit. Towards the end, when Solique was panting and moaning, Heather stood and guided the boy's lips to her pussy, throwing her leg over his shoulder to give him better access.
The brunette's whole form shook. Heather took Christine's face in her hands and kissed her. For the first time, the girl allowed her hands to release their clenched knot and tentatively travel over Heather's back.
Heather knelt erect and pulled her own top off, caressing her small breasts for the other girl's benefit. Heather ran her fingertips lightly across the soft skin above the front panel of Christine's suit bottoms.
"I want you to take these off," he said.
Christine swallowed hard. Heather was now able to see the dark stain spreading across the green fabric.
"Why?" she asked, her voice was small.
"You have to take them off so I can lick your pussy," Heather said. "Take them off now."
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