Honeysuckle, Part One

  • Posted on November 9, 2021 at 3:23 pm

Author’s Note: This story was adapted from a tiny portion of an incredibly lengthy lesbian novel called “Laura Alban Hunt,” by Gina Marie Wylie. Needless to say, that fragment of plot got expanded considerably in the process, and none of the verbiage of the original remains… so don’t blame Ms. Wylie if you dislike the result. Thanks to her for the inspiration — and to you, of course, for reading it.


By JetBoy

Late one March, my daughter Kellie asked if she could invite some girls from her class over on a Saturday afternoon. First they would go to a movie, return to the house for a pool party, then dinner, followed by a sleepover. That night would change my life forever.

Kellie had been a big help in getting me over my heartbreak when her father walked out on us to shack up with some teenage girl he hooked up with on the internet. The divorce had hit Kellie hard, too, but she summoned up the inner strength that I lacked to help me through the bad days, the times when I felt utterly worthless as a wife and a woman.

The affection Kellie gave me was a lifesaver. More than once a warm hug or a hand on my shoulder made all the difference, helped me to see the world in future tenses instead of wallowing in defeat. My child of fifteen had become my best friend, just when I needed a friend most.

That Saturday of the sleepover dawned brightly. I was up early getting everything ready, happy that I could do something for Kellie to reward her for being a truly amazing daughter. There were what seemed like a thousand little tasks involved in playing hostess to a dozen teenage girls, but I rolled up my sleeves and got to work with a will.

Kellie’s best friend was Becka Kempner, who lived about a mile away and shared in the same homeroom with her at the local high school. The two of them were inseparable. Becka was about five-six, blonde and blue-eyed, and already a gorgeous young woman. She was a cheerleader, and had gotten Kellie involved with it as well. My daughter was the newest member of the squad, and she loved it. In fact, all the girls at the sleepover were cheerleaders.

This story really begins during the pool party. A pack of girls were laughing, shrieking, racing about and splashing water all over the place while I was in the kitchen, working on dinner. Our house had a built-in brick barbecue a short distance from the pool, though I’d never barbecued anything in my life — that had been my ex-husband’s job. I figured that I had to learn how sometime, though.

I got the charcoal lit, then carefully arranged hamburgers, hot dogs, marinated chicken breasts, sliced peppers and asparagus spears on the grill. It was tricky at first; with so many items cooking at once, I was frantically flipping them over and shuffling them around so nothing would burn. Eventually, though, I found my groove, feeling like a master chef as I loaded up several large platters with sizzling cuts of meat and roasted vegetables.

Luckily, the girls seemed to be enjoying themselves while I labored over the grill, so I didn’t have to worry about keeping them happy. They sat outside on the deck, their activity now centered around our two picnic tables, pushed side by side. The air was alive with the hubbub of teenage girls, chatting animatedly about everything under the sun.

Finally laying my barbecuing tools to rest, I hastened to the kitchen for the beverages. I had lemonade, soda and fruit juice for the girls to drink, along with a few cold beers stashed away for myself. I grabbed a couple of pitchers from the fridge, carefully carrying them back out to the patio.

Just as I emerged, a lithe, slender girl with golden-blonde hair stood up from her chair and stretched. Her movements were like something out of a sexy beach movie — back arched, arms above her head, a smile of perfect contentment on her lips.

Then her gaze fell upon me, and I could see immediate interest in her eyes.

I’d been checked out by men before, so I knew what it felt like to have someone look at me with frank desire. Never before, though, had I been so openly appraised by a teenage girl. Her eyes swept over me, taking in every inch of my body and liking what she saw. Then she gave me a knowing smile, slowly moistening her lips with the tip of the tongue.

I felt as if this lovely young woman had just stripped me naked, then posed me for her erotic scrutiny.

She had on a two-piece suit that was actually more modest than the barely-there bikinis most of the other girls were wearing — but modest or not, my eyes were drawn to her breasts, the girl’s nipples visibly erect beneath her top.

Bumping against a deck chair in my distracted state, I nearly lost my balance. I froze where I stood, then carefully turned to set the pitchers I was carrying next to the ice bowl. My pulse throbbed as I struggled to contain a sudden surge of warmth that was coursing through my body — a heat that had nothing to do with temperature outdoors.

Heart pounding, I hastened back to the sanctuary of the kitchen as quickly as I was able. Safely inside, I paused for what seemed like the first time in hours, propping myself against the counter. What on earth had happened just then?

Too much sun, I told myself, unable to believe that I’d just been sexually aroused by a high school girl. Nor was it easy to accept just how intense my arousal had been in that instant.

Then I laughed at myself. Damn, it was time for me to get myself back on the dating circuit if the sight of a young cutie in a bathing suit could get me excited!

Taking a deep, calming breath, I busied myself in the kitchen, cleaning up the mess. By this time, there was a lot of it.

As I worked over the sink, some of the girls brought in plates, cutlery and glasses. One of them lingered, taking a sponge and wiping down the counter while I loaded the dishwasher. This happened to be the girl who had captured my attention earlier.

I nervously stole a glance at her, absurdly relieved that I didn’t feel that surge of sexual heat again. Maybe it was just a flash of the middle-age crazies, I told myself.

Fitting the last plate into the dishwasher, I measured in a cup of liquid soap, closed it and flicked the ON switch. The machine began to churn noisily. When I turned around the girl was still there, smiling at me. The others had wandered back outside.

“Hi. I’m Mya Leonhart,” she said warmly, extending a hand. “I’m also the assistant choreographer for the Homewood squad.”

Oh, yes, I remembered — Kellie had mentioned her before. “Hi, Mya.” Believe it or not, that was all I could think of to say. I felt fairly ridiculous, like a timid young boy might when encountering a lovely girl.

“So, tell me, Kellie’s mom… do you have an actual name?” she said teasingly.

I gave her a shy smile. “Oh, sorry. It’s Gladys.”

Mya laughed. “That’s beautiful,” she sighed. “It sounds like one of those lovely old names that no one gives their kids anymore — but they should.”

“Like, say… Melvin?” I suggested.

She giggled. “I can’t really see you as a Melvin. You’re much too beautiful and feminine for that.”

I was just beginning to relax when Mya suddenly drew close, touching my bare shoulder. Leaning in, she  placed a warm kiss on my cheek. “Thanks for being such a lovely hostess, Gladys,” she murmured, her lips lightly brushing my ear. Then she stepped back, giving me a radiant smile. “See ya later.”

I nodded, trying my damnedest not to blush, certain I was anyhow. And just like that, she turned and padded away to rejoin the party.

Who was this girl? And why was being in her presence making me feel like a bashful eighth grader?

That afternoon taught me something I’d never before understood: when a woman wants to seduce, she goes at it differently than a man does. Men like the pursuit itself, but only if they’re assured of scoring in the end. If they could simply skip the chase and zip right ahead to the conquest, most guys would be completely satisfied.

A woman, on the other hand, enjoys seduction on its own terms. She’s still interested in catching her prey but relishes the act of stalking itself, taking time to savor the game.

As the day’s light waned and vanished completely, the party moved inside to the living room. Kellie and her friend Becka poked through the CDs and put one on. Soon several of the girls were dancing. The rest stood around chatting, relaxed and in a mellow mood.

Figuring that an adult’s presence might put a bit of a damper on the festivities, I adjourned to my bedroom, relaxing with a paperback thriller I’d been working on. Oddly enough, I found my attention drifting; visions of that beautiful blonde Mya distracting me from the story. I could still feel the whisper-soft caress of her lips on my cheek.

Finally I put my book aside with an impatient sigh, roused myself and left my room to peek in on the girls. I told myself I was just seeing if anyone needed a snack, an extra pillow for the night, even an aspirin. Deep down inside, though, I really wanted another glimpse of Mya.

Trying not to be obvious about it, I peered into the living room. The overhead light had been turned off, the space illuminated by matching table lamps on either side of the sofa. I noticed that most of the girls were still in their bathing suits, some of them dancing together.

I didn’t see Mya at first, but then spied her, perched on the arm of an accent chair, nodding her head to the music. Suddenly she turned in my direction, almost as if she’d sensed my presence. Breaking into a warm smile, Mya beckoned me to her. I cautiously drew nearer.

“Where’d you go, Gladys?” she cooed, reaching out to grasp my hand. “I thought you’d abandoned us!” She was still wearing that sexy white bikini, and I had to fight the impulse to steal a look at her breasts, to see if those nipples of hers were erect again.

Instead, I stared at her for a brief eternity, that tongue-tied awkwardness of mine returning with a vengeance. Say something, damn it. “Oh… well, I didn’t want anyone to feel like I was, um, supervising things… so I thought I’d, you know, give you girls some s-space,” I stammered, certain that I sounded like a complete idiot.

“Well, you don’t have to give me any space,” Mya said, her sparkling blue eyes gazing deep into mine. “In fact, I need some stimulating company.” She glanced around the room, then back at me. “Know what I like best about parties?”

What I wouldn’t have given for a witty reply! But standing there, my hand still in hers, I could only say, “Uh… what?”

“Meeting new people,” she answered, “and you’re the only one here who I just met today.” Bending down slightly, Mya patted the seat of the chair. “Spend some time with me, Gladys. I’d like to get to know you better.”

I meekly sat, and Mya rose from the chair arm to plunk herself down on the ottoman, sitting close enough to me for our knees to almost touch. Once more, she turned on that dazzling smile. “Now, Kellie’s mom… tell me everything.”

I felt awkward at first, but Mya had a way of putting me at ease. Before long, I was giving her a thumbnail version of my life story. I didn’t do all the talking, mind you — Mya was receptive to my questions, telling me about herself. She was seventeen, but there was a completeness to her that one seldom found in girls her age — or grown women, for that matter. I was thoroughly charmed.

I glanced about the room a time or two, making sure that my presence wasn’t resented by the other girls. Everything seemed fine; nobody appeared to mind me being there. Even my daughter Kellie, bless her, gave me a big grin and a wink when she spied me chatting with Mya.

Suddenly Mya broke off in the middle of a sentence, her attention captured by Aretha Franklin singing “Respect.”

“Oooh, I love this song!” she squealed. Placing a hand on my knee, she leaned closer. “Dance with me?”

I studied her, wondering if that was a good idea, then decided that I couldn’t think of a graceful way to say no. I nodded, and she gave me a radiant smile, extending a hand.

My pulse began to throb as I rose to my feet. I’d enjoyed our conversation so immensely that my attraction for Mya — and I had to be honest with myself, that’s exactly what it was — had been momentarily forgotten.

Now she was leading me into the center of the room to dance, looking incredible in her bikini.

Mya was a very good dancer, graceful yet uninhibited. As for me, I was clumsy at first, but soon managed to find a groove, shimmying and strutting like I was still in college. “Whoo!” she exclaimed. “You go, girl!”

We danced to a few fast songs, and then the music segued to a slow, romantic Al Green number. She drew closer, slipping a bare arm around my waist, and I nervously placed mine around hers.

As we moved together, Mya and I spoke of this and that — what they call “light conversation,” though God only knows what I was contributing. All I really noticed was Mya’s warm skin under my hand, coupled with the memory of that earlier flash of arousal I’d felt earlier. Somehow, I managed not to stumble.

The song faded down and out, and another uptempo song began. Mya smiled. “Shall we?” she said, gesturing towards the sliding glass door that led out to the back yard.

I followed her outside. It had cooled; the air still and soothing after the day’s heat. The thick, sweet scent of honeysuckle perfumed the air. We stood quietly for a moment, watching the lights around the pool deck sparkle on the gently rippling water.

“Can I ask a favor of you, Gladys? It’s kind of important,” Mya asked me, breaking the silence.

“Um, sure,” I replied. “I mean, you can always ask.”

She gestured at the house. “I’d like to ask — God, how can I put this?” She paused, took a deep breath. “I know that I invited you to join the party in the first place, but now… If it’s okay, could you not go back into your living room for the rest of the evening?”

I was flabbergasted. “But… why?”

Mya gave me a shy smile. “Because tonight is — well, let’s just say that it’s one of the squad’s special nights.”

“Special?” I asked. “What’s so special about this night?”

She answered simply. “Girls… being intimate together, Gladys. A night of sharing.”

I stood there frozen, confused. What was she saying…?

She continued to look at me, her eyes friendly. “Gladys, you’re clearly an understanding person… and I’m sure that you don’t see anything wrong with girls who like other girls. You see, we’re a small circle of friends; we almost never go outside it.” She grinned. “So we have these parties, where we can do the things we want with each other.”

“I — I’m not s-sure I understand,” I stammered.

Extending a slender arm, Mya pointed at the house. “If you went back inside now, Gladys, the music would still be going, but the dancing is becoming, well, something more. The girls would be paired off; sharing soft kisses, light touches. Then the kissing will become hotter, more passionate. They’ll undress each other, lie down together. And then…” Mya shrugged, still smiling warmly. “Come morning, there will be a lot of happy girls in there, ready to face the new week.” She paused, nibbling her lower lip, then added, “Your daughter and Becka Kempner are in love, you know.”

My head spun. I’d had no idea, not an inkling. I never even knew that Kellie was into girls…

Mya studied me thoughtfully. “Are you upset?”

I numbly shook my head. “I… I didn’t know.” I took a deep breath. “I’m just — surprised, I guess. Not upset, no.” I managed a smile. “She’s my daughter, it’s her decision to make, and I’ll always support her.” I raised my eyes to Mya’s. “I only wish she’d trusted me enough to tell me this herself.”

Mya reached for my hand. “She does trust you, Gladys, and as for telling you… well, she just did.” She laughed gently. “Kellie’s been dealing with these feelings for awhile now, and she finally decided that she prefers girls to boys. This is new to her, too.”

“So… about this party,” I asked, “it’s basically, um, a night where the girls have sex with each other?”

“That’s right,” Mya said. “It’s a chance for us cheerleaders to be intimate together.” She smiled wryly. “The ones who like to play with girls, anyway. Not all of us do.”

I studied her face. “What about you?” Then I realized that she was still holding my hand.

“Let me answer your question with a question,” she replied. “Do you know what the best part is about you leaving the girls alone for the rest of the night? Besides giving them the chance to enjoy a sweet, loving time together?”

“No,” I softly answered.

Mya squeezed my hand. “You get to give me a tour of your bedroom.”

I stood rooted to the spot, heart racing. All sorts of half-formed impressions danced through my mind. No matter how aroused I was at that moment, was I ready for my first sexual experience after the divorce? And… did I want that experience to be a lesbian encounter with a high school girl?

My eyes met hers, and she gave my hand a squeeze before releasing it. Her arms twined silkily around my waist and, without a word, she kissed me. No schoolgirl peck, but a firm, openly sexual kiss. Her tongue flickered against my lower lip, seeking entrance.

Without hesitation I opened to her; opened my mouth, my body, my soul.

There was nothing timid about Mya, I’ll say that. Incredibly sweet, yes, but also a girl who knew what she wanted and took it. Her arms tightened around me, drawing me nearer, and I was powerless to resist. Not that I resisted, mind you — no, not for an instant.

Mya kissed me the way I liked best: hungry, confident and with passion, telling me without words that, for this moment, I was hers.

After a few seconds, I broke away, trembling. “I’ve n-never been with a woman before…”

Mya laughed gently. “You already know how… every woman does. It’s easy as falling off a skateboard.”

I giggled, in spite of myself. “I’ve never even been on a skateboard. I was always afraid I’d break my arm or… or something.”

“You don’t have to be afraid with me, Gladys.” She lightly grazed my lips with her fingertips, and I couldn’t help but kiss them. “I’ll be there to catch you.”

As she spoke, her hands had slipped beneath my blouse to unhook the bra catch. Then her mouth found mine once more. As we shared a gentle but lust-filled kiss, I felt her fingers travel down my chest, deftly unfastening each button. It was a universe away from what I’d been accustomed to in high school, those dates spent in the backs of borrowed family cars with shy, clumsy boys.

The last button undone, Mya’s fingers brushed along my bare shoulders as she spread my top wide open. It slid down and off, falling to the deck. My bra soon followed.

Mya was the most giving lover I’d ever had, intent on my pleasure alone. Even as she unfastened the faded jeans I wore, her lips were nuzzling my breasts, pausing to adorn each nipple with a kiss.

Then she slipped a hand in my panties to explore, finding the warmth and wetness concealed within my untrimmed curls — first with her fingers, then with her tongue as she knelt before me, sliding my sodden knickers down to ring my ankles.

I had my first orgasm seconds later when Mya lightly nibbled at my clit, the sheer velocity of it stealing the breath from me. I don’t think I’d ever gotten off so quickly before.

Somehow Mya and I made it over to one of the thickly padded deck lounge chairs, where we lay together, bodies lovingly entwined. I was completely naked, she still wore her bathing suit.

I held my new lover in a happy daze, head spinning at the realization of what I’d just done — and how much I’d enjoyed it.

I felt fingers graze my cheek, and opened my eyes to see Mya smiling at me. “My goodness… you’re a very responsive lover,” she said. “I think that you’ve wanted something like this for a long, long time, Gladys, only you just didn’t know it.”

I took a moment to ponder Mya’s words… marveling all the while at what she’d just called me. Lover. How long had it been since anyone had referred to me that way, even my asshole of a husband?

“Hmmm, maybe,” I finally said. “What you did to me… God, it felt so, so right. Righter than any sex I’ve ever had.”

Mya laughed. “Now that’s a compliment I’ll hang onto forever!” She paused, taking a deep breath. “What is that smell, Gladys? Flowers? It’s absolutely enchanting!”

“Honeysuckle,” I replied, stroking the girl’s bare back, wondering if I should unfasten her bikini top. “It grows wild in these parts. Most folks don’t like having it in their yards, and go to a lot of trouble to grub it out. It’s a bitch to get rid of, too. Me, I’ve always loved the scent, so I just let it grow, trim it back every few weeks.”

“Well, I love it,” she sighed. “The perfect fragrance for romance.”

“Speaking of which… “ I touched her cheek, “um, what happens now?”

That made her grin. “Well… you still haven’t given me that grand tour of your bedroom,” she cooed. “Wanna go inside and play some more?”

Well, that was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Common sense told me to politely bid this young girl goodnight, thank her as nicely as possible for making me feel so good, then make my escape. Hide in my room for the rest of the evening and leave the other girls to their sex games. Try to work out what I would say to my daughter tomorrow.

But that wasn’t what I wanted. Not even close. Every fiber of my being ached to explore this new side of my sexuality with Mya, to abandon my sensible self for the moment.

I haven’t even made her feel good yet, I told myself — and a rush of desire mixed with astonishment surged through me as I realized just how badly I longed to make love to this beautiful girl.

I sat up, took a deep breath, slowly stood, then gazed into the warmth of Mya’s eyes. “Let’s go,” I said.

Without a word, leaving all my clothes scattered on the deck, I led her indoors through a side entrance. By the time we reached my room, Mya was naked, the halves of her bikini dangling carelessly from one hand.

I closed the door behind us, dimmed the lights down to a suitably intimate setting, then turned to Mya. For the first time in my life, I looked at another woman with stirrings of lust.

She was as much girl as woman, actually — slim without being skinny, with elegant limbs and slight but flawless breasts. Her nipples were visibly erect again, only this time they weren’t concealed by a bathing suit. A shiver ran through me as I imagined sucking them. Her pubes were a sparse triangle, the color of honey.

Letting her bathing suit drop to the carpet, Mya moved into my awaiting arms, crushing her mouth to mine, tongue darting between my parted lips.

We fell onto the bed without breaking our embrace. Mya and I kissed and groped one another frantically, making out like lust-blinded teens.

Then she was straddling me, her warm, wet sex grazing my belly, staring down at me with hungry eyes. “What do you want to do now, Gladys?” she cooed. “Tell me.”

God, she knew what I needed, could read it on my face plain as day. But she wanted to hear me say the words.

“Oh, Mya,” I whispered, “I — I want to taste you.”

She placed a hand on my shoulder, gently pressing me back. “I think that can be arranged,” she giggled, moving forward until her sex was just above my face.

As I gazed at her lightly-downed vulva, it struck me just how young Mya was. She’s practically still a girl! my conscience protested. Then I realized that Mya might not be fully adult, but she was certainly sexually mature. Maybe more than I was.

I raised my head and hesitantly licked her, delighted to find that Mya’s cunt was tart and luscious. I took my time at first, tentatively exploring her with my tongue.

Then the scent, the taste, the wet warmth of Mya overwhelmed me, caught my soul in a snare of wanting. I was a greedy child discovering a fresh new delight, eager for more of everything.

I buried my face between her thighs, mouth covering the moist slit, pleasuring this teenage girl with utter abandon. Any way you can conceive of making oral love to a woman, I did it, learning what she liked as I went. I felt her warm fluids coating my lips and chin as I plunged my tongue into her, over and over again.

Fucking her with my mouth, I told myself, amazed. That’s what I’m doing.

Finally I centered my attention on Mya’s clitoris, lightly nibbling at the inflamed pearl, just like she’d done it to me out by the pool — and my young lover cried out, panted hoarsely for a long, incredible moment, then finally slumped forward, purring with contentment.

Damn, Gladys,” she panted, settling down into the crook of my arm. “It’s hard to believe you’ve n-never done that before!”

All I could think of to say was, “Um… so, you liked it?”

“Liked it?” Mya giggled, then gave a blissful sigh. “Oh, I liked it and then some…”

I rested my hand on Mya’s hip, but it wanted to explore, so I let it drift over the unimaginable softness of her belly, then up further until I was cupping her breast. My heart seemed to skip a beat when I felt her nipple stiffen against my palm.

I sensed lust renewing itself as a prickle of heat between my thighs, then felt my face go hot at Mya’s knowing giggle. “Oh, Gladys… you’re get-ting hot and bo-thered a-gain…” she sang.

“I — I never cooled down, I don’t think,” I admitted.

Mya placed a dainty kiss upon my nose. “It’s late, Gladys, and we’ve just had one hell of a workout. Let’s save something for when we wake up.” She grinned. “Sex in the morning between two girls, when the day is new… Mmm, trust me, there’s nothing like it.”

I glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, figuring it to be about eleven-thirty or midnight, startled to see that it was just after two AM. Definitely after my usual bedtime.

As if the clock had given me permission, I suddenly felt drowsy. Relaxing into the embrace of my bed and this lovely naked girl, I sighed in perfect contentment. “Okay, then,” I said. “Good night, Mya.”

“Good morning,” Mya murmured, “and thanks for everything. You’re a wonderful lover.”

It didn’t take but a little while before Mya was dozing peacefully, her breathing slow and even.

I mused on what an eventful day it had been, in more ways than one — and somehow, fell sound asleep in the midst of my reverie.

On to Part Two!


17 Comments on Honeysuckle, Part One

  1. lofftie50 says:

    Great story looking forward to reading more

  2. kinkys_sis says:

    Nice one, I like that.

  3. Mirzarey says:

    My god I am so, so glad you have taken this episode from Laura Alban Hunt and adapted it. This event from the story, its aftermath, the conversations and revelations which follow … I just thought they were so hot! But as you have alluded, the whole thing is slathered in GMW trademark ramblings and over indulgences. But LAH, Spitfire and Messerschmitt and Tom’s Diary contain a rich seam of incredibly erotic scenarios. It’s just that the reader is required to wade through so much tertiary plot setting up the main character as some kind of unbelievably wise and able person hellbent on solving the problems of an entire battalion of people. And in any case, she usually just abandons her work unfinished.

    I would love to see you continue with this story and delve into more plot lines from LAH’s work.

    That said, I do wish you had built up the main character of Gladys a bit more. Just a couple of more paragraphs about her life and background, and how she and her daughter had moved to the area fairly recently. I would’ve also liked to have had a little bit more buildup of the daughter’s character and her best friend. The best friend’s outgoing and gregarious personality is established early and helps to make the events of the party and so on more believable. There are also observations of the best friend’s personality and what gladys had observed of her relationship with her mother. All this stuff happens in the original material during the main character’s seduction by the senior cheerleader. It’s really hot stuff. Also, some more stuff about the things the main character had observed about the cheer-squad. That stuff really foreshadows what comes next in a great way and is super erotic,

    Again thanks so much for taking up this idea! It sounds like a bunch of complaints from me but I really loved your take!

    • JetBoy says:

      If this was a lengthier work, I’d certainly have provided more background for the Gladys character, but my story is a mere two chapters. As for not providing any real detail about the daughter’s friend… well, guilty as charged. If I ever expand this story, I’ll flesh out Becka a bit more. Thanks for your thoughtful response!

  4. No One says:

    Nice work, JetBoy. I’m not familiar with the original story, but I enjoyed this retelling. Fun premise with the very confident teenager seducing the older woman. Now I wonder what the daughter will think of all that… Looking forward to what will happen next.

  5. bb says:

    I actually have the original story. Jetboy, big fan here. if you are modifying it can you please explore the Susan/ Linda relationship. The original had some erotic scenes that were alluded to but would love to see those fleshed out. I use the original character names so as not to spoil anything for those who don’t know the story

  6. Kim & Sue says:

    Beautiful, we wish you had more time free from editing and more time to just write, we loved this first chapter.

  7. Eloquent delinquent says:

    I can’t say I’m aware of the source that you’re drawing from, but if it nourished this, then it can’t be bad.

    The pacing and detail are superb, gently but insistently turning the screws, then providing relief just when the reader might be getting antsy. The deft way you describe the sex is always delightful.

    The mindset of Gladys is fairly well realized, but aside from Mya all of the other girls (including her own daughter) felt like background images with no substance or contact. Even a line of dialogue, a bit of rowdiness, or a passing glance that left Gladys feeling caught out would’ve made them feel more present.

    Lastly – and I can’t be the only one – I would pay cash money to discover how Mya gained such flawlessly poised sexual confidence as a teenager.

    I hope the next installment manifests soon, whether we find out or not. Lovely as ever, thanks for sharing!

  8. Steve says:

    Absolutely fantastic read please hurry another chapter along

  9. David says:

    Great job Jetboy, another fine job of rewriting and I look forward to the next chapter. Want to see Kellie’s reaction when she finds out about her mother and Mya and also some juicy scenes with Kellie and her friend Becky!

  10. JetBoy says:

    Thanks for all the good thoughts.

    Funny, I don’t even have a copy of the original story. I took the bits I liked from that one about fifteen years ago and sat on them for awhile, then turned those bits into a story with no recollection of whence they came. Then a sharp-eyed reader pointed out definite similarities between my story and Ms. Hunt’s. Oops! I hastily withdrew my version and rewrote it from top to bottom, ensuring that not a hint of the original prose remained.

    Hence, this new and improved edition. It’s finished, with one chapter to go, and feels complete as it is… but who knows, maybe I’ll flesh it out in greater detail one day.

  11. Esisi says:

    My only comment on this story is the lack of ages of the girls at the start really. Amazong story.

    • JetBoy says:

      Ask and ye shall receive, friend, Kellie’s age gets mentioned in the next chapter — it’s fifteen, by the way — but I added it to this chapter as well. As for Mya, she’s a very mature seventeen, and I put that in, too.

  12. Treachery says:

    Very hot! Great potential in regards to what direction this story can go.
    It sounds as if Mya has prior experience. Enough so that she seems be a great seductress. She likes older women. Perhaps a teacher or the mother of another cheerleader showed her the way? Anxiously waiting for part 2.

  13. Amanda says:

    OOOhh My such a hot wonderful story, i can’t wait to dive into the next chapter, ty Jetboy for weaving such a beautiful mix of lovely characters together.

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