Susan’s Rendezvous with Cheryl

  • Posted on July 9, 2015 at 3:37 pm

By Cheryl Taggert

Cheryl looked in the mirror and thought of Susan. This would be the day, the wonderful day that she would meet Susan for the first time. Not that they didn’t know each other already. They had been exchanging emails for over a year and had become lovers online, if not in person. Now all that would change.

Of course, Cheryl would have to be careful. Susan was still a minor, after all. At first Susan had not been honest about her age, afraid that Cheryl wouldn’t talk to her at all if she admitted to being only thirteen. Cheryl, however, had been sweet and warm to Susan, whose guilty conscience made her finally confess. Then Cheryl confessed to Susan: she loved it that Susan was so young and pure.

Cheryl would have called her innocent, but that wasn’t exactly true. Susan Prestwick was anything but innocent. She was extremely sensual. She loved to masturbate to the erotic emails that Cheryl had sent. And Cheryl loved to send erotic emails to her little Susan. Susan, of course, would write back about what she had done while reading and thinking about Cheryl.

In short, they fell in love.

Checking herself one last time in the mirror, Cheryl left the hotel room, switching off the light as she went.

They had arranged to meet in London, at a small restaurant near Big Ben. It was called “Turks” for no apparent reason. They didn’t serve Middle Eastern cuisine or Turkish cuisine, so Cheryl assumed the owner was called by that nickname.

Entering the restaurant, she noticed Susan right away. She recognized her from the many pictures she had sent her in emails.

Susan beamed. Her mother had allowed her to come to London to meet a friend and spend the week with her and her family on holiday in the Lake Country up north. Of course, she had no intention of going with her friend, but she would be out of touch except for her cell phone, and Cheryl could “play” the part of the friend’s mom if there were any questions her mom might have that needed to be addressed by the adult who was supposedly supervising her, and Cheryl claimed she could do a good British accent. Susan doubted she would get a call, especially since her mom knew that sometimes cell phones were not very reliable in the Lake Country.

Susan had looked forward to this for a long time. She loved Cheryl, everything about her, from the hair that seemed to lounge on her head to the pretty toes that now peeked from the sandals she wore. Susan had never had a foot fetish or anything, but she longed to kiss and suck those toes. She simply wanted to make love to Cheryl, every square inch of her delicious body. And those square inches included her pretty little toes.

Cheryl smiled broadly. Like Susan, she was a bit nervous. They couldn’t be seen showing their love and lust for one another in a public setting. Cheryl hadn’t bought a plane ticket to London from the states just to be arrested for molesting a child. Seeing the object of her desires now, she thought about kidnapping her and taking her back home to stay with her forever, but she knew she couldn’t do that. Wouldn’t do that. She saw this as simply the first time they would meet and make love. Cheryl was still young, just twenty, and there was time for living together later.

Cheryl sat across from Susan in the booth, removing her ever-present sunglasses. Susan gazed for a moment into those eyes, losing herself momentarily in those pools of love.

“Hi, Susan. I can’t say how happy I am to finally meet you.”

“Hi.” For the moment, Susan was speechless. She chastised herself for a moment. She had practiced what she would say for a week. Now those words were gone, lost in a fever of ecstasy.

“Are you as nervous as I am?” asked Cheryl, picking up the menu that was already on the table.

Susan giggled briefly, putting her hands to her cheeks to hide the blush that crept up her neck to her pretty face. “I’ve been thinking of nothing else but this moment since you said you were coming to England,” she said, her hands still at her cheeks.

“Me, too,” answered Cheryl. The waitress hurried to the table. She immediately recognized what was happening, having seen such relationships far more often than most people would believe, but she would not tell, of course. Why should she spoil anyone else’s fun? Nobody had ever spoiled hers when she’d had a young girl meet her for a special rendezvous, or when she and her baby sister went out on what she thought of as a date. She could tell the two either were or would be lovers. It was apparent in their eyes. They held a seductive sort of love in them. She could almost see their eyes–and probably more–getting moist from the sight of the other.

“What`ll ya ‘ave t’ drink, miss?” she asked in a thick cockney accent, directing her attention to the older girl.

Cheryl looked at the waitress, who appeared to be around her age, perhaps a year or two older. “Water, please,” said Cheryl. “Susan?”

“A coke,” said the girl named Susan, who looked to the waitress to be no more than fourteen, but probably younger. Giving the older girl a sly, knowing look, she went to get their drinks.

“Oh, my God,” Cheryl whispered after the waitress had left. “I think she knows.”

“Knows what?”

“That we are lovers. I could tell…I think. She looked at me…she looked at me in a way that said…that said she knows what we are doing.”

“Nonsense, Cheryl. You’re just nervous, like me.”

“Maybe,” Cheryl said. “But we need to be careful.”

As if to challenge her warning, Susan’s bare foot traced a line up Cheryl’s calf. When she looked at Susan, she saw the seductive and mischievous smile playing across her youthful face. Susan giggled again.

“I saw that move in a movie once. Relax, you worry too much.”

Suddenly the waitress was standing beside their table with the drinks. Cheryl hadn’t seen her approaching, and what the waitress said shocked and surprised her.

“Yeah, hon. Relax. Y’secret’s safe wi’ me.” Setting down the glasses, she winked at Cheryl and smiled before leaving to take care of another customer.

“See? She knows and don’t care. We aren’t as hung up about sex as you Americans.”

“Well, that’s true,” said Cheryl, finally breathing. “But that doesn’t extend to twenty-year-old women having sexual liaisons with thirteen-year-old girls, no matter how sexy they are.”

Susan nearly Β squealed. “Is that what this is? A sexual liaison? Cool!”

Cheryl looked across the table again at the pixyish imp of a girl whom she had grown to love so much. It was this playful nature that had gotten her interested in the first place. One thing was certain. Susan was Susan regardless of the time or place. Cheryl admired that, the simple acceptance Susan had of herself. She may be only thirteen, but she was more adult than many of the people she knew in America that were three times her age. She knew and loved who she was and lived every minute to the fullest.

While Cheryl was looking at Susan, Susan was looking back at her, taking in the reality of the moment. Cheryl was here, sitting across from her. She had reached out with her foot not only to be playful, but also to assure herself that she wasn’t a ghost or something. Her heart was leaping into her ribs. She was totally, completely, and madly in love with this beautiful woman. Her excitement was increased by the news she had to tell Cheryl, but she wanted to wait until they were alone to give her the good news. Susan saw the love in Cheryl’s eyes as she gazed at Susan, who felt her own tears of love and joy sting her eyes.

“I love you,” whispered Cheryl. It was the first time she had said it to Susan’s face, and the emotion overwhelmed her. She was both nervous and relaxed, excited and calm, longing and contented. Such was the paradox of love.

The younger girl’s smile once more brightening the interior of the restaurant as her eyes gleamed with tears of happiness, Susan said thickly, “I love you too. So much.”

The waitress arrived again, holding her pencil and pad at the ready. She could see the joy and love in their eyes. Once again, she wanted to put the American at ease. She leaned down and whispered in Cheryl’s ear, “Don’ worry, hon. I’d `ave a go a’ `er too, if she weren’t taken.”

Cheryl looked into the eyes of the waitress. Of course, it was the old “It takes one to know one.” The waitress recognized it so quickly because she, too, knew what it was to be in love with a person below the age of consent. Cheryl found herself wondering who the young girl the waitress loved was, and if they had consummated the relationship.

Straightening up again, the waitress said, “So, what’ll ya `ave?”

They each ordered. Cheryl had a Caesar salad, while Susan had a corned beef sandwich with chips.

“In America, you call chips `French fries,’ you know,” said Susan, with the air of someone who needed to explain the small differences in their British English and the American variety.

“Yes, I know,” said Cheryl, then added, “and in England they sometimes call a pussy a fanny, which in America is the ass, don’t they?”

Susan giggled again, then jumped a bit when she felt Cheryl’s foot on her own leg. Cheryl was smiling with the same mischief that Susan had earlier. She knew it was Cheryl’s way of telling her that she had relaxed and wasn’t as nervous as before. But her startled reaction to Cheryl’s foot caused her to bump the table from below and slosh their drinks over the brims of their glasses. Susan let out a sudden burst of laughter. Cheryl quickly mopped up the mess with some paper napkins.

“Shhhh,” said Cheryl, without really meaning it.

After they ate, Cheryl paid the bill and they left the restaurant, casting a quick glance and a wink at the waitress before moving onto the busy street outside. Turning left, she and Susan moved in the direction of the hotel.

“You are my cousin, as far as the hotel is concerned. Okay? Don’t forget that now and kiss me in front of everyone.”

“I wouldn’t do that, would I?” Susan smiled again. That mischievous, “No telling WHAT I might do” smile. Cheryl loved it in spite of its teasing quality, or maybe because of it.

As they entered the hotel, Cheryl directed Susan to the elevators, which they boarded and rode up silently. The moment they had really longed for was finally here. In seconds they would be alone, away from prying eyes, and they would be able to do to each other what they had only fantasized about before. They each realized that the touch that they had imagined with their own hands would become a reality. Each girl felt her pussy grow a bit warmer than before, slightly more moist. Cheryl could feel her clit expand with blood, the nerves becoming more sensitive so that even the delicate pressure of her panties stimulated her.

Finally they were at the door to Cheryl’s hotel room. She inserted the card key and the little green light shown to allow the two girls to enter their private world.

The door opened and Susan thought she was entering Paradise. The hotel room was nothing special, but it looked like the world’s finest honeymoon suite to her.

Stepping inside, they looked at one another for a moment, suddenly nervous once again. Dropping their purses, they turned to each other, enfolding the other in loving arms.

They kissed.

Their mouths devoured lips and tongues, intertwining like lovers, rubbing together with silent promises of soft caresses to come. Cheryl felt her nipples stiffen; Susan felt her own pert breasts respond as well. The erotic thrill danced slowly down to their dewy mounds and back again, trailing goose bumps like flower petals cast to mark a trail to find the way home.

Susan lifted her arms to allow Cheryl to remove her t-shirt. She was braless and the fleshy mounds stood up proudly, capped by rosy pink nipples that stiffened even more. Cheryl gasped at their innocent beauty.

Susan reached for the hem of Cheryl’s top, lifting it as Cheryl raised her hands in the air. Reaching back, she quickly unclasped the bra, allowing Cheryl to let it fall to the floor, forgotten. Susan had seen pictures of Cheryl nude, courtesy of erotic emails, but the reality was more than she had hoped. These were three-dimensional, soft globes of flesh for her to touch and kiss. Her mouth watered for them, so she leaned forward and, grasping the full tit, kissed the nipple, sucking it gently into her mouth to play her tongue across it.

“Ooooh, my God,” Cheryl moaned, running her fingers through Susan’s brown hair, caressing the red tipped highlights between her fingertips. Lowering her hands, she felt the soft shoulders, tickled the skin lightly, brushed her fingers along the line of her collar, then reached down to her small but perfectly formed breasts. They were a study in symmetry. Artists would die to paint these, or better yet, sculpt them. She pinched the nipples and listened to Susan’s breathing grow more rapid with the excitement. A tiny moan, almost a sigh, escaped Susan’s mouth. The breathy sound was like an aphrodisiac to Cheryl.

Susan’s hands moved to the buttons of Cheryl’s shorts. She struggled for a moment with the effort of unbuttoning them, giggling slightly as the button finally sprang free of the too-small hole that had held it. Unzipping the shorts, she edged them down slightly. They fell in a heap around Cheryl’s ankles, and Cheryl stepped gingerly out of them, leaving them where they were to be picked up later, after the loving that was finally happening after so long.

Reluctantly breaking the contact between Susan’s lips and her breasts, Cheryl knelt down and, looking directly into Susan’s crotch, undid the clasp that held her shorts on. She unzipped them and gasped aloud. Susan wore no panties. Her closely trimmed pussy was staring back at her, the slit seeming to wink seductively at her. Susan wiggled her hips and the shorts tumbled down, leaving her naked.

Cheryl leaned into the pussy she had longed for since meeting Susan online over a year ago and kissed around the slit, denying both Susan and herself the thrill they both wanted by avoiding the fleshy insides of the young girl’s pussy.

“I want to see you naked too,” breathed Susan thickly. Tears had once again sprung to her eyes unbidden. They surprised her.

Cheryl, fully understanding the erotic dance of disrobing each other, stood and allowed Susan to put her fingers into the elastic waistband and tug downward. Once again, gravity took over and the soft, powder-blue panties fell in a wisp to the floor.

“Let’s get on the bed,” said Cheryl, taking Susan’s hand in hers.

Susan moved in for another kiss, a passionate one, full-lipped and wonderful, a kiss that spoke her feelings without the need for words. She wanted the two of them to suck each other into themselves, to pull their souls together forever where they would live blissfully in one another’s heart.

“The bed,” Cheryl reminded when the kiss broke. She was getting anxious. She had waited a long time for this, after all, as had Susan.

They stepped over to the bed and, pulling down the covers crawled onto the soft cotton of the sheets.

They indulged in an ecstasy of touches. Caressing the soft areas of skin that seemed more alive than ever before. They missed no spot that might give pleasure while avoiding the centers of stimulation, the nipples, pussy, and anus. They brushed fingers across the area of tender flesh inside the elbow, played symphonies on ribs and thighs, tickled the undersides of the knees and the bottoms of feet. Everywhere was fair game. Everywhere but those three places wherein the typical ideas of sexuality lay.

Finally Susan could wait no more. On one of her hands’ journeys past the breast, she tweaked a nipple, watching as it stiffened, puckering like lips that longed to be kissed. She obliged the nipple by taking it in her mouth to lick and suck while pushing her hand down her lover’s body and spreading the lips of her cunt. Sliding a finger between the folds, she felt the erect clit and Cheryl’s hips bucked in response. Delving lower, she found the flood that had swelled like the tide in Cheryl’s vagina. Cheryl’s pussy was positively dripping. Her honey spilled out and crept down the crack of her ass, soaking her anus and gathering in a small pool on the bed linens.

For much of the time they kissed, making out like teenagers. It occurred to Cheryl that they were really not that far apart in age. After all, when Cheryl turned twenty-seven, Susan would be her age now, twenty. Perhaps they did have a future. Her heart swelled with the thought, which took a fraction of a second. It was then Susan had touched her nipple. Then when Susan touched her clit their lovemaking moved from playful caresses to wanton lust.

Suddenly the teasing was over. They moved into each other, hands exploring each other’s breasts and pussy, fingers grazing the anus. Each girl was nearing orgasm with surprising speed and a sense of need they had not experienced before.

Cheryl was the first to move to assume the sixty-nine position. Susan reached for her legs, pulling and urging her into place so she could begin drinking from the most intimate fountain of pleasure on Cheryl’s body.

Simultaneously, the two girls, lost in the delirium of lust and love, glued their mouths to the soaking slit of her lover. Cheryl was surprised that at thirteen Susan could get so wet. Her honey spilled out of her pussy and into Cheryl’s waiting mouth. Cheryl drank the nectar as if she had been lost in the desert and had discovered a pool of lifesaving water. She literally thirsted for the vaginal drippings.

Their hips bucked into each other’s mouth, straining for the climax that hung just out of reach. Fingers plunged into wet holes and continued tickling the other’s anus.

Finally, Susan began to feel her orgasm beginning to burn deep within her belly. The moment it began, her hips began to dance excitedly, wiggling her pussy against Cheryl’s face. At that precise moment, Cheryl began to come as well.

Susan panted her orgasm out, keeping her lips attached to Cheryl’s pussy as if it was the source of life. The guttural, orgasmic screams deep in her throat vibrated her lips, sending wonderful sensations into Cheryl’s pussy. Cheryl kept her own mouth planted on Susan’s pussy, transferring the wonderful vibrations to the teenager’s clit, making both girls’ orgasms that much more intense. Spasms shook their bellies, as tears of complete love stung their eyes.

Finally, when they could recover enough to move, they lay cuddled in each other’s arms. They didn’t talk for a moment, basking in the knowledge that they had finally brought their relationship beyond mere correspondence.

Susan broke the silence.

“Cheryl, what if I could come live with you for a year?”

Cheryl looked at her, blinking, not understanding how that could happen.

“What do you mean?”

“My mom says I can come to America as an exchange student. Would you sponsor me?”

Her heart pounding, she stared at Susan. Was she serious or was this just another playful game? She needed to know, because if Susan was playing, it wasn’t funny.

“Are you serious?”

Susan’s smile glowed. “Yes. My mom says if I can get an American to sponsor me, I can come to the states and go to school for a year.”

Cheryl pulled her lover into her, hugging her tightly, holding her close enough for them both to feel the shared heartbeat behind their ribs.

“Of course, baby. I would LOVE to have you stay with me for a year. Two. Ten, even!”

They held each other and made plans for Susan to come stay with Cheryl. And after they talked long into the night, they made love again. It was even better than the first time.


17 Comments on Susan’s Rendezvous with Cheryl

  1. JetBoy says:

    Glad you got around to posting this, Cheryl. I’ve always enjoyed it.

  2. kim says:

    always liked this too, and thanks for the heads up on lesbian lolita going bye bye, I alwyays got here by finding them , now what will I do?

  3. MrStrut says:

    Very erotic, I look forward to maybe a sequel of them in America! Thanks Cheryl

  4. Brenda says:

    So much tender love followed by the fire of their passion………..a beautiful story. Brought tears to my eyes. Thank you so much

  5. Cheryl says:

    Brenda, THANK YOU!!! I always love to see that the enjoyment of my stories goes beyond the sex itself, although I would hate it if that part didn’t satisfy as well.

    MrStrut, we will see. πŸ™‚

  6. Cheryl says:

    Wow…. I hadn’t really looked at this story since I wrote it. I just copied and pasted it here without re-reading it. First, I am glad those who have read it enjoyed it, but I have to say there were quite a few problems with this story. Some of the writing seemed “mechanical” at times, and pronoun references were often confusing. (Which “her” does this refer to??) I have cleaned it up a bit. I could write some good stuff when I was younger, but I can certainly tell I was a LOT younger when I wrote this originally!! πŸ™‚

  7. Sally says:

    well I enjoyed that story so much I had to re read it twice I cant tell you how wet I am but I just have haven’t oh you know what I’m trying to say lovely story Cheryl mmmm I might just read it one more time…..

  8. sue says:

    well I like it, and not just because there’s a Susan in it, though I did do a little fantasizing.

  9. Cheryl says:

    I’m so glad you liked it, sue!

  10. snowy says:

    Loved the characterization of the saucy waitresses. Don’t worry about the grammar, the story flowed and has a nice wet ending. Wonderful!

  11. PoppaBear says:

    I think this was the first of your stories I ever read, Cheryl, and I enjoyed it very much. Partly because, away back in the sixties (such a long time ago) after a very brief meeting on holiday in Germany, I met a girl at Piccadilly Circus. Oh, that was a lovely afternoon.

    It was a few stories later before I was aware of you as one of my favourite authors, Cheryl, but I have always had a soft spot, or should that be a hard spot, for this story.

  12. Cheryl says:

    Snowy, thank you for the wonderful comment. As for the grammar, I was just amazed at how badly this story needed a rewrite back when I originally posted it at when I was about 20. I feel I have grown so much as a writer since then.

    Poppa, I think you may have emailed me about this story way back when. The reference to your meeting a girl in the Piccadilly Circus area of London sounds familiar. πŸ™‚

  13. PoppaBear says:

    That’s very likely, Cheryl, as it was a special afternoon, and your story is also special.

  14. Amanda Lynn says:

    Cheryl, I have to echo what Snowy said. I loved the waitress, I could hear the accent as I read. The entire story was great. I can relate to the finally meeting someone you have chatted/emailed with for a long time. Such a big bundle of nerves.

  15. Poppabear says:

    Ah, how lovely to see one of my favourites again.
    ‘Tis a very long time since I first read this short story, maybe as long as fifteen or even twenty years.
    I have shocking memory for the time details of events, times and dates, but can remember what the scene looked like and what I was thinking.
    Like Amanda, above, I can remember, “hearing” that waitress speaking to the two ‘would-be lovers’ as she served them.
    Haven’t read it again this time, so you will excuse me, if I go and do something I am looking forward to.

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