Siobhan, The Irish Girl

  • Posted on September 3, 2025 at 12:10 pm

Note from JetBoy: We’ve not had a new offering from our beloved kinkys_sis in a while, for which I take full responsibility. Anyhow, I’m addressing this shameful deficit with a delightful little tale from her pen. Do enjoy.

by kinkys_sis

Inspired by a beautiful red-haired schoolgirl I saw on a bus. Her manner was absolutely infectious; she was a bundle of fun. We never spoke, although she did smile at me. Isn’t imagination a wonderful thing? (By the way, for those who don’t know, the name is pronounced “Shav-awn.”)

***

When I finished my hospital shift, I had about ten minutes to make the three PM bus for home. If I missed that, it was a half hour wait for the next one. It wasn’t so much the wait that bothered me, it was the fact that the three-thirty PM stopped at two schools on the way. Then the bus was crammed with loads of school kids, all competing to see who could make the loudest racket. Christ almighty, I hated that bus.

That day, I reached the stop just in time to see my bus pull away and into traffic. Swearing under my breath, I resigned myself to the half hour wait, followed by an unpleasant journey. Even if I managed to wangle a seat, it would be too crowded and noisy for me to work on my crossword puzzle.

Sure enough, when the bus stopped at the schools they came pouring on, mobs of them, shouting at each other. It was a cacophony of inane comments, bursts of anger, shrieking laughter and tinny snatches of music from their cell phones.

To add to the general din, the driver was yelling for them to move toward the back of the bus and “take your sodding seats.” It was the same every day; you’d think these kids would learn from the experience. But no, they always managed to make the driver lose his temper.

The bus was already halfway full when I got on board, so I’d been obliged to take one of the two sideways-facing seats near the front, which are never comfortable. And then to have all of these kids around me, jostling for space… well, I had to give up on doing my crossword right away. There just wasn’t enough room for me to fill it in.

A young redheaded girl directly in front of me struggled to keep her balance when the bus pulled away. She hadn’t been able to reach a handhold. It was only the mass of bodies that was keeping the girl on her feet. It was an accident waiting to happen.

Sure enough, at the first corner she almost fell on top of me, but managed to right herself just in time. “Top of the day to ye, ma’am,” she said in an exaggerated Irish accent, wearing a huge grin.

I can’t recall whether I gave her a scowl or a weary smile in reply, but it didn’t matter. She’d already turned away to answer a friend.

Finally, the bus arrived at my stop, where I had to force my way through a dreadful crush of bodies to reach the exit door. “T’was a fine pleasure meetin’ ye, ma’am,” she quipped, then took my vacated seat.

I didn’t give her more than a moment’s thought. It just felt good to be off the bus.

***

It was two days later, and once again, I ended up on the three-thirty, in the same seat as before. This time, I didn’t even bother to get my crossword puzzle out.

Instead, I was idly checking my phone when I heard that familiar Irish accent. “Is it you again, then? We shouldn’t keep meetin’ this way.”

It was that high-spirited redhead, clearly trying to amuse herself and her friends. I gave her the merest glance, then went back to my phone.

It quickly became obvious that this vivacious teenpop was popular among her peers, with one youngster after another engaging her in conversation.

A moment later, I noticed something else. I was only half-listening , but it suddenly struck me that the girl’s Irish accent had completely vanished when she answered the girl stood next to her. She sounded English and posh as can be. It was enough to make me look up.

What first got my attention was her unruly mass of long bright ginger hair. She clearly had trouble keeping it under control. Then I realised she was smaller than any of her friends. They all looked to be around thirteen or fourteen. She seemed to be younger, but somehow I knew she wasn’t.

Suddenly aware of my scrutiny, the girl turned to glance at me. Now I knew why she could so easily slip into the accent. Her freckled face and deep green eyes, combined with the ginger hair, shouted Irish.

She turned that big grin on me. “You’re all of a wonderin’ about me now, pretty lady. And you’d be right. ‘Tis a mix of English and Irish, to be sure.” She laughed, then continued in her English voice. “Don’t pay any attention to me. I’m daft as a brush.”

I had to admit her manner was downright infectious; witty and charming, but very relaxed with it. I could easily see why she was popular.

The bus had been about to pass a stop when at the last moment, a man who’d been idly poking at his phone jumped up, frantically waving his arms and calling out, “Sorry, sorry… I get off here!” The driver hastily swerved into the stop bay, almost screeching to a halt. The mass of standing bodies held on for dear life, so as not to get pitched forward. But the redheaded girl had nothing to hold onto, so I instinctively reached out to steady her before she toppled over.

Although I managed to grasp both her arms, she still almost fell onto me. Quite accidentally, my knee went between her thighs before she recovered her balance. Oddly enough, she didn’t immediately pull away, just grinned and murmured, “A bit personal, considering we just met.”

I felt my face get hot, but she hastily added, “I’m only joking, ma’am. I told you, don’t pay any attention to me when I get like this.”

Pulling away, she went right back to chatting and laughing with her friends. Funny; I found myself wishing she’d spent a little more time with me.

When she saw me press the STOP button, the girl leaned in my direction, all smiles. “Have a nice rest of the day, lovely lady. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow…?”

I knew it was just idle chatter; no real meaning behind her words. But after exiting the bus, I couldn’t help thinking of how she’d lingered while straddling my knee, maintaining intimate contact for longer than was necessary.

Why on earth would she do such a thing? Could she have been… coming on to me? The very idea seemed ludicrous, so I forced myself to think about something, anything else.

But in spite of my best efforts, the girl continued to prey on my mind. I kept recalling that pretty smiling face, that wild, untamed mane of red hair, those twinkling green eyes.

I found myself growing increasingly curious about this young stranger. What was her name? How old was she? What were her interests, her favourite books, bands, films? Did she have a boyfriend?

Did she even like boys?

***

I didn’t have much going on when I wasn’t on the job. An active social life didn’t fit in with continually varying shifts at the hospital, so I found it difficult to build any sort of steady romantic relationship.

Oh, I occasionally dated men, and slept with some of them. But none of these dalliances were ever more than casual, and always seemed to taper off before a few weeks had passed.

Don’t get me wrong — I liked these men well enough, and the sex was enjoyable, but I wanted something of substance. It’s just that I had no real idea what that something was, or how to go about getting it. So my personal life was mostly spent in a kind of limbo, longing for more.

In the meantime, my thoughts seemed to keep returning to that young girl. Her cheery nature had certainly brightened my day, but it was that moment of unexpected intimacy that I thought of the most. Could she really have ground her sex against my thigh? Young schoolgirls didn’t behave that way… or did they? Not that I normally gave much thought to the ways of young girls.

***

For the first time ever, I intentionally waited for the three-thirty bus and, once aboard, claimed the same seat as before. There was no ulterior motive behind my actions other than the fact that I enjoyed being in the presence of the redheaded girl. I could put up with the crowds and the noise for that.

She grinned when she looked my way, nudging her way through the mob until she was standing in front of me. Leaning in, she murmured, “I thought I might get lucky again today.” She saw my puzzled expression. “After what happened the last time we met, that is. I thought it was fun, didn’t you?”

The girl next to her had overheard. Making a face, she gave my redhead a poke in the ribs. “Stop teasing the lady, Siobhan. You’ll get into trouble one of these days, the way you carry on.”

Now I know her name, I thought, surprised by the satisfaction I took from that. As for Siobhan, she put on an innocent expression. “Teasing? Who, me? I don’t know what you mean.” She looked back at me. “Do you know what she means?” She lowered her voice to barely a whisper, “Besides, I wasn’t teasing… not at all.”

The whole exchange left me floundering, my face hot. What on earth was she up to? It shocked me to realise that this girl was openly flirting with me, in a way that was anything but innocent. For God’s sake, she couldn’t have been a day older than thirteen!

I didn’t know where to look, what to say or how to handle a situation like this. So I did nothing at all, just sat there staring at my knees.

At the next stop, even more youngsters crammed themselves into the bus, pressing Siobhan against me. By then, she was facing away from me, chatting to a girl on her right who had just boarded.

The bus rounded a corner, everyone swayed, and before I knew it, my knee was once again between the girl’s thighs. But this time, she stayed put.

I tried to pull back, but she seemed to follow. I could feel the heat of her sex against my bare skin.

On the verge of panic, I reached out to press the ‘stop’ button, even though we were at least a half dozen stops away from my destination. But Siobhan seized my hand just in time to prevent that.

I stared up into her calm green eyes. The warmth of her sex on my knee had increased… and was that a hint of wetness I felt? It shocked me to realise that Siobhan was pressing herself down more firmly, grinding the front of her knickers against my bare knee. The motion of the bus rocked her back and forth, assisting the girl in her lewd task.

I might have shoved her away out of sheer embarrassment, but I could also see that no one else was aware what Siobhan was doing — not in that crush. So I did nothing, thinking it best to avoid a scene. That’s what I told myself, at least.

Somehow, I found myself studying Siobhan’s arse… then the rest of her. For a fleeting moment, I tried to picture her naked before thrusting the thought away. She’s practically a child, for fuck’s sake… even if she is rubbing herself off on my leg.

By then, the front of her knickers was soaking wet. And to my surprise, I felt a corresponding dampness of my own, accompanied by a deep, resonating pulse between the thighs that left me light-headed. As if acting on their own, my legs parted even further, making it easier for the girl to grind against me.

My God, I was getting aroused by this! What was going on here? I’d never so much as kissed another girl, much less lusted after one. Had I lost my mind?

Siobhan suddenly seized my hand, clutching it tightly. I saw her hips jerk before she pressed her sex into my knee more firmly than ever. She was coming! I resisted an abrupt, powerful urge to reach out and grope her arse, but it was a very near thing.

Before I knew what was happening, the girl pulled herself away. I looked up to catch Siobhan grinning at me over her shoulder, eyes twinkling.

I yanked my skirt down lower to cover whatever evidence she’d left behind on my knee, struggling to get a grip on some very confused emotions. The craving, the need I was experiencing was like nothing I’d ever known. I ought to have been disgusted. Yet somehow, I wasn’t.

This time, she didn’t prevent me from pressing ‘stop’, but waited for me to look her way. When our eyes met, Siobhan raised an eyebrow. I knew it was a question, but what, I didn’t know. I was too flustered to deal with her right then. All I wanted was to escape. This wasn’t even my stop!

I had to squeeze by her to get through. Her mouth almost touched my ear. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help myself. Hope I didn’t upset you. If you’re not here tomorrow, I’ll know you’re not happy with me. But if you are here, well… let’s wait and see.” I felt her pat my hip. “Bye for now, lovely lady.”

***

For the remainder of the day, I fought to get Siobhan out of my mind and failed miserably. The memory of her warm, wet pussy against my skin, nothing but a pair of knickers between us… it haunted me, like a song that wouldn’t stop running through my head. The scent of her shampoo, the weight of her against me, the way her body jerked when she came. I was appalled and fascinated in equal measure.

In my heart, I knew I could and should have stopped her. But I hadn’t, and that’s what I found so difficult to understand. I’d allowed a young schoolgirl to rub herself off on me. Worse still, I’d found myself aroused by it. Christ, I still did, hours later. Did that make me some kind of pervert?

Slumping back in my chair, I took a swallow of wine and allowed the memory of Siobhan’s face to come into focus. Young, yes, even younger looking than I suspected she was. I already knew she was strangely beautiful. It was a kind of pixie-like face, very expressive. Her sense of humour, her joy, her boundless enthusiasm for life and living… it was all there for the world to see when she smiled.

I was shocked to realise how much I was drawn to the girl. In fact, I genuinely liked her. Even though she’d used me as a masturbation aid without seeking my consent. Not that I’d ever have given it had she asked. I stared at my knee. It was almost as if I could still feel her grinding against me.

For the first time in weeks, I felt the urge to masturbate. I wasn’t going to, though.  It seemed too much like flirting with danger, the idea of getting myself off to thoughts of an underage girl. I didn’t understand what was happening to me, and trying to figure it out didn’t help.

Fuck, girl, I told myself, this Siobhan has got you more excited than you’ve ever been.

I told myself that I had to stop thinking about her. There was nothing good that could ever come of it. Yet my body was urging me to go somewhere very dangerous, to get myself intimately involved with a child. And that’s what she essentially was — a child.

One thing I knew for certain: I wouldn’t be catching the 3:30 the next day.  And despite my growing attraction to Siobhan, I kept that promise.

***

It was one of those days where everything seemed to go wrong. Far more patients to see than normal, several of them peeved at having to wait longer than expected. I didn’t even get a lunch break. I was in a foul mood; at odds with everything and everyone. And to cap it all, I missed the 3 pm bus!

I certainly didn’t want to take the 3.30, but couldn’t bear the thought of waiting until four to get the next bus; I was exhausted as it was. Instead, I boarded the 3.30 and looked for a seat where I could hide myself. Perhaps Siobhan wouldn’t notice me.

She didn’t at first. I saw her glance about the bus, a look of disappointment evident on her face. I admit it; I was surprised. Could it be that this was more than a schoolgirl playing a wicked game? Was she genuinely interested in me?

Just then the woman seated next to me reached out for the ‘stop’ button, muttering, “Excuse me, please.” I had to stand to let her out. I’d barely settled back into my seat when Siobhan sidled in next to me.

That day she spoke in plain English, no  trace of that Irish lilt. “You’re avoiding me, it’s obvious. That’s okay… I guess I do need to apologize for my behaviour the other day. But tell me, pretty lady, did you think about me afterward… even a little bit?”

Right off, I made my first mistake. I was tired, and all too aware of her closeness. So I didn’t think, just answered, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. That’s why I stayed away.”

I heard her chuckle, then murmur, “I knew it.” She switched to her Irish voice. “Now why would you be wantin’ to stay away from me? Me, that wants nothin’ more than gettin’ to know you better.” She placed her hand on my knee. “This part of you seemed to enjoy gettin’ acquainted.”

I didn’t want to draw any attention, which I probably would have done if I’d pushed her hand away. Now came my second mistake. I dropped my coat over Siobhan’s hand, intending to conceal what she was up to from any casual observers, but instead of then ordering her to back off, I stammered, “Please d-don’t touch me like that.”

She did raise her hand, nearly breaking contact, but her fingers were still grazing my bare skin. “Is that what you really want? If I’d been older, would you still have asked me to stop?” I felt that wicked hand slide beneath my skirt until it rested on my thigh.

I tried to address her by name, but messed up the pronunciation. She laughed, then told me, “Shav-awn, that’s the proper way to say it. Now what are you tryin’ to tell me?” Her fingers were now teasing the inside of my thigh, steadily moving higher.

This time I managed to get her name out correctly. “Siobhan, you — you shouldn’t. We’re on a bus, for God’s sake!”

That bewitching smile of hers put in another appearance. “So, lady. ‘Tis only the where and not the what that’s botherin’ you? Besides, shouldn’t is different to don’t, I’m thinkin’.”

Her fingers pressed a little more firmly as they slid further. Another couple of inches and she’d be touching the front of my knickers.

I was a mess, my resistance dwindled to practically nothing. I didn’t want her to stop — in fact, my pussy was aching for Siobhan’s touch. Oh, that still, small voice of conscience was putting up a fight, whispering, She’s practically a child, it’s sex in a public place, you aren’t even a lesbian, stop this bus and get off, you sodding fool — but I was growing increasingly deaf to its demands.

At any rate, Siobhan didn’t stop. Her fingers lightly caressing my inner thigh, she leaned closer and whispered, “Now is when you should tell me to take my hand away… and I will, if it’s what you really want.”

I was on the verge of speaking… but before my lips could form that first word, her fingers brushed the front of my knickers. I immediately froze.

This was all so new to me — terrifying, yet thrilling. A smidgen of a girl was touching me up in front of dozens of underage kids just out of school.

I knew I should make her stop, but damn it all, I was still unable to speak. Or move. My pulse, however, was racing like a gazelle.

Then a shudder jolted through me when Siobhan traced her finger along the crease of my pussy.

I stole a quick sideways glance and saw her gazing towards the front of the bus as if nothing untoward was taking place, though one could detect a very slight smirk on her lips.

I still hadn’t protested, but came close to gasping out loud when her finger began to slide up and down, then I jerked in my seat when she found my clit. Thankfully, no one noticed. A second finger joined the first, one on either side of my pulsing button.

Her lips brushed my ear. “Relax, pretty lady; enjoy. After all, I’m only returning the favour. I do owe you one.”

For two days I’d not been able to keep this girl from my thoughts. Now I was at her mercy. Siobhan’s touch was magical, and I couldn’t summon the will power to resist. Instead, my knees had parted just enough to give the girl sufficient room to do as she wished.

And that she did. Her fingers worked faster, back and forth, sliding along the front of my drenched knickers. I could feel my orgasm approaching, like an oncoming headlight glimpsed in the distance. I reached down to grip Siobhan’s wrist, silently urging her to go faster.

Mind you, I was still very much aware of the fact that we were on a crowded bus. Somehow, I managed to hold myself still as my pussy began to pulse. That pulse grew into a throbbing, then a pounding, and seconds later I exploded in the most intense orgasm I’d had in a long, long time. And somehow, I managed to keep quiet through it all.

Once the madness had passed, I sat motionless, allowing myself time to recover, but still clutching Siobhan’s hand between my legs.

When I’d sufficiently calmed myself, I whispered, “Such a wicked girl. You took unfair advantage of me. I ought to have stopped you.”

She cut in, speaking in her posh voice. “Ah, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to, either. Maybe I did take advantage, but only because I’d seen the signs.” She abruptly switched back to her Irish. “So don’t let it be troublin’ you, not a bit. Are you hearin’ me?”

“Signs? What signs? I don’t understand,” I asked.

“I saw a sweet, lonely lady who needed love, wantin’ to be held and touched by someone special. I saw you was sort of interested in me… but maybe also a little scared. And I understand that. Me, I liked you from the moment I first saw you on the bus.”

“I… I liked you too,” I replied. “Guess I didn’t know how much.”

Siobhan nodded. “I sort of guessed you weren’t actually into women… well, what I mean is, you don’t seem like you’re gay.” She paused, blushing a little bit. “I haven’t been teasin’ you all this time, honestly, I was seriously trying to make you want to know me.”

I didn’t know what to say in reply. Because there really wasn’t a sensible answer.

I relaxed my grip on her hand, which Siobhan slowly withdrew from between my legs. “That’s the first time I ever tried anything like that,” she said, “and I’m glad I did. I know you enjoyed it, too, but I don’t think we should do it again…” Before I could protest, she winked and added, “not on the bus, anyways.”

She paused to study her two fingers, the ones she’d used to make me come, then smiled as she lifted them to her mouth. I watched in astonishment as she sucked them. The act was both shocking and exciting.

Once she’d sampled my flavour, Siobhan said, “It’s Saturday tomorrow. I go into the city most weeks. I’ll be on the bus that passes yours at a quarter past ten. It would make me so happy if you were to join me. We could go for a coffee, or a McDonald’s or something. I mean, if you aren’t working at the hospital.  That’s where you come from every day, right?”

Siobhan wasn’t being jocular now. She was genuinely asking me to meet her, almost pleading.

My thoughts raced as my stop was approaching. Good sense told me it was time to call a stop to all of this before this thing got even more out of hand.

I reached out and pressed the ‘stop’ button, still not knowing how to answer. The bus began to slow. “Please,” she barely whispered, a tremor in her voice.

Siobhan moved to let me out of the seat, briefly gripping my arm as I squeezed through. Then I turned to her and blurted, “I’ll try,” then exited without a backward glance.

I looked up at the window of the bus as I set off for my flat. Siobhan’s mischievous expression had returned. She blew me a kiss, and I couldn’t keep myself from smiling back at her.

***

I liked to shower each day as soon as I got home. It washed the smell of the hospital away, as well as easing the tensions that built up on the job.

Needless to say, thoughts of Siobhan flooded my mind as I undressed. I was quite astounded at the state of my knickers. I’d never been masturbated or even orgasmed in my knickers before. You could tell they’d been absolutely soaked through.

I pictured my lovely redhead putting her fingers in her mouth and sucking them after rubbing me off. I couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to do something like that in public, where others could see. And yet Siobhan had done that very thing, just so I could watch her do it. Thinking about that made me tingle all over.

There was a throbbing between my legs and my nipples ached as I recalled the expression on her face when she tasted me. A look that spoke of purest pleasure.

That afternoon, I fingered myself in the shower, picturing Siobhan’s face. I even whispered her name when I climaxed.

That wasn’t the end of it, mind you. All through the evening, through dinner, and afterwards with a half bottle of wine, I thought about her. That’s when I realised that, consequences be damned, I was going to accept Siobhan’s offer to meet the next day.

I actually felt a measure of relief in making that decision, but it was followed by a generous dose of fear. Fuck me, I was going on a date with a thirteen-year-old girl!

It suddenly occurred to me that maybe this meant I was a lesbian, even though Siobhan had told me I didn’t seem like one. Am I gay, then? I asked myself. And if I am, should that bother me? I suddenly realised that I couldn’t care less.

What concerned me far more was what I was going to wear for our date. At twenty-six, I was precisely twice her age. Not old enough to pretend to be her mum, and probably too old to pass for her sister. Not that there was anything that would pass as a family resemblance, what with her ginger hair and mine almost pure black. I hoped no questions would arise about us and why we were together, but I knew we’d have to watch our behaviour. This time, I couldn’t allow her to fondle me in public, that much was certain.

In the end, I settled on trying to make myself appear as young as possible without being utterly obvious about it. A blue dress I hadn’t worn in years (but still fit into, thankfully), a pair of purple trainers I’d bought on impulse and never removed from the box, a brighter shade of lipgloss… I used every trick at my disposal to shave a few years off my age. And underneath, I wore the skimpiest, naughtiest lingerie in my wardrobe.

While doing my makeup, it struck me that I’d never gone to this much trouble preparing for a date with a man. My interest in this girl was fast becoming an obsession.

***

Rush hour was almost over, and the bus was near empty. The early morning buses were double-decked, they changed to single-deck for the rest of the day. I saw Siobhan wave through the window as the bus pulled in, not failing to notice her huge, happy grin.

I’m sure part of it was my outfit, but I actually felt like a teenager as I got on board. My heart was fluttering, my stomach doing flip-flops — just like a kid on a first date.

I stopped dead when I saw her stand up to greet me. Siobhan looked utterly gorgeous. Of course, the school uniform was gone. She now wore a skirt and button-up top with high heels. While I’d worked to make myself seem younger, Siobhan had opted for a more mature look.

I couldn’t keep myself from coming out with, “My goodness! Don’t you look beautiful, and, um… older. More grown up.” My God, I was babbling like a fool.

Siobhan took it in stride, though. She came back with, “So do you! Except, um, you look younger.” She wasn’t her usual cocky self, and that helped me feel a bit less awkward.

“Let’s sit up top,” she said, and I meekly followed Siobhan up the stairs. The dress she wore showcased her arse to impressive effect, and I found myself longing to reach out and touch it. Down, girl, I told myself.

Except for us, the top deck was empty, and I hoped it would stay that way. There were things I wanted to say that couldn’t be spoken in the presence of others.

As I sat next to Siobhan, she leaned in and kissed my cheek. She’d already done far more intimate things to me, yet somehow, this felt different. It was like a statement of intent, making it clear that  she wanted more from me than sex. Maybe I was reading too much into a brief kiss, but the warmth I felt inside couldn’t be denied.

Intending to return the compliment, I drew closer, expecting Siobhan to turn a cheek. Instead, she parted her lips ever so slightly, inviting me to kiss her for real.

I only hesitated for the briefest moment, well aware that I’d never kissed anyone of my own sex before… but now I wanted to more than anything.

I brought my lips to hers, only intending a brief, gentle kiss for starters, but as I began to draw away, Siobhan followed. Our mouths were pressed together; the kiss lingered. Then her tongue brushed my lower lip — and just like that, I surrendered, returning her kiss with every ounce of passion I possessed, giving myself over to the love of a thirteen-year-old girl.

She drew my tongue into a lustful dance, and I was only too happy to let her lead. I swear the kiss must have lasted for at least three minutes before we finally broke apart.

Siobhan and I were inches apart, our eyes locked together. We were both too overwhelmed to speak at first, then she gave a blissful sigh and said, “My first kiss from a lady… and what a beautiful lady she is, too. I was hopin’ for this all last night and this mornin’, too. I even prayed it would stay empty up here, so we could finally kiss for real. And I ain’t even gonna ask if you liked it, because I know you did. I could feel you gettin’ all excited. Just like I am right now.”

Taking her hand, I said, “Siobhan, I have to admit something. I was frightened by the thought of meeting you here today. I’ve never done anything like this with a woman before, much less a girl your age. But when I saw you today, all those feelings disappeared. That’s when I knew for sure that I’m… I’m attracted to you. I want to get to know you better, much better. And by the way, that was the nicest, sweetest kiss I’ve ever had.”

Siobhan was positively beaming at me. “See, I knew it. Maybe I acted like some clever, experienced girl… but really, I’m not. I just saw you that first day on the bus and I thought, oh my fuck, I gotta get to know that lady. I wasn’t sure what was the best way to get closer to you, and maybe I made some dumb mistakes. But, see, it worked, ’cause here we are.” She gave my hand a squeeze. “It’s you and me now.”

I pondered her words and what they meant. This beautiful, lively girl wanted me for a lover, and I still didn’t quite understand why. I answered, “Yes, Siobhan, here I am. This… this hold you have over me doesn’t even make sense, and I’m not sure how or why it happened, but I’m so, SO glad it did.”

Flashing that infectious grin of hers, she switched to her Irish lilt. “’Tis because I’m irresistible. I’m what you want, even if you didn’t know it. And me… fuck, I don’t know your name, but I’ve been lookin’ for someone special. Sure, I thought it would be a girl close to my age… then I saw you and I knew. Oh, and call me Shav — it’s easier.”

“Shav.” I savoured it. “Hi, Shav. My name’s Megan — and please don’t call me Meg, I hate that.” I touched a finger to her lips before she could respond. “This wasn’t easy for me, you know… meeting you like this. I tried to stop myself, because I knew it was wrong. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I came. Now… um, what happens next?”

She laughed. “Oh, that’s easy. We’re girlfriends now, and I’m gonna make you love me. Want to kiss some more, Megan?”

I did. Our mouths drifted together, and we kissed for ages. Her tongue quickly found its way between my lips, and I met it with mine.

I had a sudden, powerful urge to touch Siobhan’s budding breasts, so it didn’t surprise me at all when I felt her hand slide under my jumper. Sure enough, this teen girl began to feel me up.

Oh God, it felt good to have someone touch me like that. So unlike my previous boyfriend, who barely paid attention to my tits, always in such a hurry to get me out of my knickers and on my back. With Siobhan, there was affection in every caress. When she lightly pinched my nipple, I nearly came on the spot.

I had to touch her, had to give my young lover the same sweet gift she’d given me. Slipping a hand beneath Siobhan’s skirt, I began to stroke her thighs. She parted her legs, inviting me inside. Without a second thought, I laid my hand on the front of her knickers, overwhelmed at how wet they were… soaked through!

Out of nowhere, a nagging voice entered my mind, asking, What in God’s name are you doing with your hand up a thirteen-year-old’s skirt? I thrust the voice away, refused its call. I had something far more meaningful to occupy me.

There was but a thin layer of cotton between my hand and Siobhan’s mound. Did I have the courage to cross that line, to pleasure her with my fingers? If I gave in, this would be sex with an underage girl… only this time, I was the one doing the dirty work. I’d be risking everything.

Siobhan saw my uncertainty. “Please,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “Please touch me, Megan.”

I couldn’t tell her no, couldn’t make this adorable girl sad. Besides, I wanted to fuck her; craved her like a drug. Yes, I was that far gone.

Carefully easing the front of her knickers to one side, I found the juicy slit. Inexperienced as I was, it was plain as day that she was very aroused. I lightly traced a finger along the cleft, going up and down a few times before gently pressing the tip inside. It easily slipped into her warmth, right up to the third knuckle. Siobhan thrust herself forward, forcing my finger even deeper. “Oh, oh yes!” she gasped.

She crushed her mouth into mine, kissing me with a fierceness she’d not shown before. Her hand was still under my jumper, and she seized my throbbing nipple; gave it a quick twist. It hurt so wonderfully, a jolt of ecstasy that went straight between my legs.

Siobhan moaned into our kiss as I fucked her cunt, working my finger in and out. I didn’t really have a clue what I was doing, just went by intuition. I guess that was enough, because she was so clearly loving my touch. It was when she began to move her torso up and down, sort of raising up from the seat with every thrust, that I thought of her clitoris. Christ, how could I have forgotten that?

I made up for lost time, though. Leaning forward, I brought my left hand into play, searching for Siobhan’s clit while continuing to shag her with the right.

My fingers found the slippery nub. I rubbed and teased it. She writhed and moaned, covering her mouth as best she could. I rubbed faster. Suddenly, she gripped my tit hard, going tense for a moment… then a hard shudder shook her body, and I knew she was coming. She began to tremble, her hips jerking in time with my thrusts.

I saw her eyes open to stare into mine, her head bobbing, mouth hanging slack. “Sweet Jesus, Megan — fuck me!”

I’d never had a woman climax in my presence before, never mind a young girl. But now, this wild young creature was orgasming to my touch. It was one of the most beautiful moments imaginable. My heart was so full that I almost cried with joy.

Slowly, she calmed, then relaxed, collapsing into my arms. I held her tightly, my face buried in a sweet-smelling mess of ginger hair. After a short while, she turned her head up to look at me. She gave a little nod and a weary smile. “See, I knew it. You and me, we were meant to be.”

I could only gaze down at her beautiful young face, at a loss for words. So instead, I leaned down and gave Siobhan a tender kiss.

We were startled out of it when the bus made a sudden stop. We took our hands back, then paused to straighten our clothes. Shav was grinning that impish grin. “So, what’re we doing all day? Maybe you want to go to the cinema, then we could sit in the dark and touch each other’s pussies. Or we could do something boring… like go some place where we can eat.” She paused, then guffawed with laughter.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“Ooooh, I made a little joke there, an’ you missed it. When I said ‘eat,’ I meant it as in ‘eat pussy’. I guess you never did that.”

I stared at her, feeling my face get hot. Of course, I knew what eating pussy meant. It’s just that cunnilingus wasn’t a topic I was used to discussing so freely.

Siobhan wasn’t fazed in the least. She took hold of my hand, lifted it to my mouth. “Taste me, Megan. Just like I did with you yesterday. Bet you’ll like it.”

My first impulse was to pull away… but that was the old me. Now I was curious to know the flavour of her cunt. Taking a finger into my mouth, I sucked on it. The taste was… not what I expected. It was naughty, it was heady and delicious, it was her. I wanted more.

Then and there, I knew I would be going down on Siobhan as soon as I was able. I longed to fuck her with my tongue, to have her essence coating my lips and chin, to hear the girl’s cries of passion fill the air.  Luckily, I had just enough self-restraint to keep myself from getting down on my knees right then, tugging  her knickers off and going to work.

She pressed a hand into my lap. “Ever had your pussy eaten?”

I shrugged. “Not very well. A couple of my boyfriends did it to me every now and then, but…”

Siobhan was already shaking her head. “Blokes don’t know what it’s about, I reckon.” She drew closer, grazing my ear with her lips. “I’ve not had it done to me, either… nor done it myself. You’ll be the first. We could do it this very afternoon, if you like. Care to let this girl eat your… cunt out?”

I knew I was blushing, but my excitement was at fever pitch as I murmured, “I was wondering, Shav. Shall we forget about going for coffee, McDonald’s, the cinema or whatever else… and just go back to my flat?”

“What?” she cried out in mock outrage. “Miss out on McDonald’s?” Then she giggled. “Sounds grand. There’s a stop just comin’ up, you wanna get off?”

Oh, I did. I seriously wanted to get off! By then, I was aroused all over again, my pussy practically aching for release.

We descended to the lower level and made our exit. I saw the driver grinning as we went by him. Fuck me, I’d forgotten all about the onboard webcam! He must have had a pretty good idea of what we’d been up to. Embarrassed though I was, I still held my head high as we disembarked.

Siobhan and I laughed ourselves silly as we crossed over the road to wait for the return. The bus stop was deserted, so I turned her to face me, cupping her face in my hands.

I was about to to whisper, I love you, Siobhan. But she spoke first.  “I know, Megan. Though it’s only been a week since we met, you love me. ‘Tis because I’m an Oirish witch, and that I am, to be sure. And you, my black-haired beauty… I love you, too, and I can’t wait for us to have our first fuck.”

The end.

I know some will be shouting – why does it end here? It would be so easy to write more. Yet, for me, the story is told. Any more is for you to imagine.

 

 

46 Comments on Siobhan, The Irish Girl

  1. David says:

    Beautifully written Kinky_sis. I have to admit, I would have loved seeing it continue but at the same time I love that you kept us hanging. My imagination will take it further. Great story I loved it!

  2. Kim & Sue says:

    WHY DOES IT END THERE? Just kidding, thought we’d get it out of the way. Lovely short story. Sue met a girl once when she worked at an art store. They all had name tags and Sue didn’t know how to pronounce Siobhan, so shyly said to her one day in the break room,”I’m sorry, I don’t know how to pronounce your name.” It turned out to be a great opening line as they hit it off from there, but we digress.

    Nice tale, believable and hot. Much enjoyment found in it. Thanks.

  3. Emiliano says:

    Adorable and sexy

  4. kinkys_sis says:

    For the moment I just want to thank JetBoy for adding his wonderful touch to my writing. He has a way of rounding off my rough edges.

    I will wait to thank my lovely readers when there are (hopefully) a few more comments.

    I would also like to say that this short story is one of my favourites of everything I’ve written. It was intended to just be a bit of fun, I think I managed that and I hope you think so too.

  5. Cartman says:

    This was a sweet story, I liked it a lot. One of the best ones you have written kinkys_sis.

  6. MusicMan says:

    Sweet and hot. Romantic as hell. The writer in me loves that the story ended there. The desirous perv in me wants every detail of their first and subsequent fucks. But leaving it to imagination brings them fully alive in an even better way. Great story.

  7. Erocritique says:

    ‘‘Twas a lovely (and kinky) tale. The ending certainly left a lot to our imaginations, but the seeds had already been planted with the erotic events on the bus. Jetboy made us wait for this – and it was worth it. Bravo k_sis & Jetboy. ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ (And a ❤️ for sister chic. I know I speak for all of the JS family when I say that we have her in our thoughts.)

  8. bad_UK_guy says:

    Brilliant story, kinky_sis!!! My ending has Megan meeting up with Siobhan’s mom and older sister for family fuck!! I live near a school and whenever I see 2 or 3 girls together in their uniforms I like to think of them together having sexy fun, kissing as they feel each other’s pert breasts and slip hands inside their panties!!! At weekends I see girls visiting their friends which has me thinking about what goes on behind closed doors!! Are mom and sister getting involved??

  9. BlueJean says:

    I liked the story immensely. It has substance. It’s been fleshed out with lots of detail, and there’s an object lesson here in how to maintain restraint in an erotic story. It teases the senses, never straying into overblown sexual frenzy. We’re left wanting more, but crucially, we don’t 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 more. Oh, you might 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 you need more, but that first glass of wine is always the sweetest.

    I did find it slightly odd that Megan never uttered a single word until the third or fourth encounter. And it should be: “The front of her knickers 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 soaking wet,” not “𝘸𝘢𝘴 soaking wet”. Also, and I’m really nitpicking here, “The act was both shocking, yet exciting,” doesn’t quite work. Shouldn’t it be either, “The act was both shocking 𝘢𝘯𝘥 exciting,” or simply, “The act was shocking, yet exciting”? 𝘉𝘰𝘵𝘩 and 𝘠𝘦𝘵 seem to oppose each other. At least that’s how it reads to me.

    Well, enough waffling from me. My bus has just arrived.

    • JetBoy says:

      Good catches both, BJ.(Is this a good time to admit I mostly edited this story on my cell phone?) I’ll fix these little cock-ups later tonight.

      Bee, thanks ever so for the praise. Editing is a breeze when you have good material to work with… and you can always be counted on to deliver the goods.

      • JetBoy says:

        On reflection, I’m going to have to quibble with you on your first catch. I maintain that, “The front of her knickers was soaking wet,” IS correct, because the sentence’s subject is “front,” not “knickers.” so the modifier “was” refers to the singular former, not the plural latter. (And by the way, the Holy Roman Empire was not holy, Roman, nor an empire.)

        • BlueJean says:

          That’s true, but the plural “knickers” changes the whole sentence and consequently demands a “were”, doesn’t it? Grammatically, “was” just doesn’t sound right, at least to my ears. If it was, “The front of her underwear was soaking wet,” it would sound correct. Unless that’s how you say it over the pond?

          Just to think, four years ago I was publishing badly written scribbles on Lesbian Lolita. Now I’m debating ladies’ underwear with the legendary JetBoy. What a time to be alive!

          • BlueJean says:

            Here’s a better way of looking at it:

            You and I know the knickers are in fact a singular object, but in grammatical terms they’re a “pair”. And if they’re a pair, the grammar assumes they have “two” fronts. Of course, we can’t say, “The fronts of her knickers,” so we stick to the singular, but still honour the plural with a “were”.

            I’m almost convinced, anyway.

            • Jacqueline Jillinghoff says:

              Gotta go with Danny on this one. The subject of the sentence is ‘front’. ‘Knickers’, plural or not, doesn’t govern the verb, since it’s the object of a preposition. (You wouldn’t, for example, say ‘the waistband of her knickers were tight’, would you? Would you?) Trust me. I’m a professional.

              As long as we’re catching stuff:

              Then a shudder jolted through me when Siobhan’s traced her finger along the crease of my pussy. — delete the ‘s after Siobhan.

              I hoped no questions would arise about Siobhan and I … should really be ‘me and Siobhan.’ But would actually be better if it was just ‘about us.’

              I thought there was one more, but I can’t find it now.

              • BlueJean says:

                𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦, 𝘴𝘢𝘺 ‘𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’, 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

                I actually would. “Was” in that context sounds wrong to me, too, which means it’s either an American English/British English thing (like dove/dived), or I have some bad grammar so deeply ingrained, I can’t see it any other way.

                • No One says:

                  This is a bizarre argument. JetBoy and Jacqueline are correct. “Knickers” is not the subject, why should it dictate the form of the verb? Surely you agree that “The knickers’ waistband was tight” is correct. The waistband, singular, is tight, not the whole of the knickers. “The waistband of the knickers was tight” is the exact same meaning, and exact same verb form. I’m pretty sure there’s no difference between American and British English on this, and I’m very confused by your… well, confusion.

              • JetBoy says:

                Thanks for catching those errors, JJ. I fixed them both.

                • Joe Dornish says:

                  I’m about as far from an expert on grammar as you can get, I’ve no idea on the rules at all and rely heavily on Grammarly and JB. That said, I’m still going to drop my tuppence worth in here as a reader.

                  Whether it’s correct grammar or not, in this instance, were sounds correct if you say it out loud. Was just doesn’t sound right.

  10. Purple Les says:

    Good stuff. Well done. Fun time had by characters and this reader.

  11. Jacqueline Jillinghoff says:

    Begorrah, ’twas a fine way to spend a free afternoon. As we say in the Emerald Isle, Gon á fail ó sheilaogheabh!

  12. Debbie L says:

    Sweet Jesus! Sis that was utterly delicious. And believe me, it didn’t need to be more than a single chapter. All my other stuff elsewhere is only one off. A good imagination can do the rest. That was bloody wonderful. Thank you xxxx

  13. 3FingersNeat says:

    kinkys_sis,
    Thank you for the lesson in writing in the first person. The set up was wonderful and the pace was so very believable. Excellent.

    You nailed the story. The tone was cute and the “Should I do this with a young girl?” confusion was done very well. It’s okay if the story ends with just this one chapter. You gave us everything we need for our imaginations to fill in the blanks.

    Thank you.
    3FingersNeat

  14. Sapphmore says:

    T’be fair, t’be fair, if you’d just written, “red-haired schoolgirl with mellifluous Irish lilt”, that would probably have been enough for me to make up the rest. But, you very eloquently and vividly did that for us. No need for more – this is the type of tale that forces us to ponder what did/might have happened later. This might well be one of your finest.
    My next tale is also set initially on a bus. I started it in 2020 but now wonder whether I should just give up on that one. Best ‘lesbian on a bus’ tale I’ve read.

    • kinkys_sis says:

      No, never give up on one just coz someone else did something similar.

      And… I have another ‘bus’ one in the ‘yet to be published’ files.

      Thank you so much for the ‘finest’ comment.

  15. kinkys_sis says:

    Hi guys,

    So many lovely comments and… another grammatical debate. Why do my stories seem to so often generate these discussions? Not that I mind of course.

    For me, well… wet knickers are wet kickers and I don’t care about the grammar when the wetness is created.

    @ David – thank you for your continued kind thoughts.

    @ Kim & Sue – lol… love the little story. Thanks.

    @ Emiliano – another regular commentor and it’s appreciated.

    @ Cartman – thank you.

    @ MusicMan – I agree with your observation, thank you.

    @ Erocritique – I always love your comments and thank you for the thought for my Maria.

    @ bad_UK_guy – you always have the most wicked imagination; someimes perhaps over-the-top? Your comment though is appreciated.

    @ BlueJean – your first para is what is most important to me, thanks. As to the ‘was/were’. I agree that were is better fitting. Re exciting etc. I think that by adding ‘and’ is also correct. The thing is – consider the spoken word and not the written grammatical context. To me, I would say ‘were’ in speech even if it’s not considered grammatically correct.

    @ Jacqueline – absolutely correct on the ‘s, and the same for ‘us’. I loved your actual comment on the story. I can’t seem to find a clear translation of ‘Gon á fail ó sheilaogheabh!’. I used several translators, they all came up with something different.

    @ Debbie L – a lovely response, so much appreciated.

    @ 3FingersNeat – the ‘first person’ is the only way that I can properly write. I get in a muddle when I try any other way. (JJ noted this to me once). And I loved your comment.

    @ Sapphmore – I already said it above – thank you.

    Activity update. JetBoy has so many of my stories on file (too many really) so I didn’t at the moment see much point in trying to write more. Instead, I am revisiting a novel that I began several years ago and then sort of shelved; I didn’t think it was that good.

    A few months ago, someone in the publishing trade took a look at what I had written. They have come back and said it has possibilities aimed at the young adult market but needs more work. So, that’s what I’m doing at the moment.

    It’s not as much fun as writing the kind of thing we all love. Neither am I convinced that I am truly a good enough writer to want to commit so much time to it. But… for the moment, let’s suck it and see… now there’s a thought!

  16. Jennifer says:

    WOW wonderful, beautifully told and so different so exciting with the sheer naughtiness of it in public. I loved and only wish there would be more

  17. raido973 says:

    Such a sweet beautiful and sexy story. Thank you 😊

  18. Gary W. says:

    Absolutely loved this story. The fact that it was so believable is what made it so very stimulating. Great story.

  19. Caroline says:

    Such a sexy story.

    Always have had a fantasy of rubbing against a sexy woman in public like that. And a little exhibitionism is so hot.

    While I would love a 2nd, 3rd or 4th chapter, this story is perfect as it is.

  20. Helen says:

    What an exquisit little tale kinkys_sis. Up there with your best writing.

  21. No One says:

    I figured I should probably read the story and comment on its content instead of just arguing about grammar.

    Fun little tale, and interesting theme with all the “action” happening on the bus. The characters are likable, and it does a lot in a short time. Maybe it’s a tad fast, in fact, but I understand the limitations of a single-chapter story. While it could have been nice to see what happens next, I don’t mind where it ends at all. Nice work.

    Do people really switch accents for fun like that…?

  22. Joe Dornish says:

    Wow, this story blew my socks off. Always leave ’em wanting more is the phrase that springs to mind, and you’ve certainly achieved that.

    At first I was a bit put off with the Irish accent, but when I realised she was switching between English and Irish for fun I thoroughly enjoyed that aspect as I know a few people who do much the same thing. And writing in an accent is no easy task, you pulled it off very well, straddling the line between too much and just enough perfectly.

    The other thing that struct me (in a very good way) was a lack of a description for our protagonist. We were a good way through the story before we found out that she had dark hair, and it was near the end before we even knew her name. Sometimes what is not in a story is as important as what is in it, and the lack of a description left us to use our imagination.

    I thought this was a masterclass in short story erotica, expertly written and an effortlessly enjoyable read.

  23. kinkys_sis says:

    @ Radio973, @ Gary W, @ Caroline, @ Helen – Thank you all so very much.

    @ No One – I appreciate your comment, thanks. A little fast – yep, kind of the way I mostly write.

    @ Joe Dornish – I struggled hard to get the right balance with the accent. I know it’s not a good thing to write too much in a foriegn accent, it can make it hard work for the reader. I also know someone who can effortlessly, and realistically, change between two accents.

    It was quite intentional in not giving too much detail for Megan until the story progressed.

    I have found before that when I enjoy writing a story it turns out better; I loved writing this one.

    Thank you.

    Ps. – ‘were’ sounds right to me also.

  24. kinkys_sis says:

    In one of my comments above, I mentioned that I was working on a non-erotic novel. Well, I’ve come to a sort of mental block point with it, so I’m putting it aside again and going back to what I like writing about best… naughty erotic girls and ladies.

    Here’s a little exerpt from one I’m working on. This is from page nine of twenty-five I’ve written so far.

    𝘐 𝘢𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘐’𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘐 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘴, 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘴.

    𝘔𝘶𝘮 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯. “𝘚𝘪𝘹 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘓𝘢𝘳𝘪 𝘢 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘰𝘥. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦?”

    “𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩.” 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘶𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

    𝘔𝘶𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺.

    “𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘯.”

    𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥. “𝘕𝘰, 𝘪𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥.”

    “𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘶𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯.” 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

    𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘸𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥. “𝘔𝘶𝘮, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯. 𝘐’𝘮 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘯’𝘵 𝘐?”

    “𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵-𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘞𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴. 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵, 𝘴𝘰 𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸. 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣i𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘳.”

    “𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺, 𝘔𝘶𝘮. 𝘐’𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳.”

    𝘔𝘶𝘮 𝘴𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘳𝘴 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳? 𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘭𝘥.”

    𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘥𝘮𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘔𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘦’𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘷𝘰𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘺, 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. “𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘰𝘣 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧, 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘶𝘴𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘯. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘔𝘳𝘴 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘢𝘯… 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥. 𝘘𝘶𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘖𝘩, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘔𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯.”

    𝘔𝘶𝘮’𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵. “𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴? 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵.”

    𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳. “𝘠𝘦𝘴, 𝘐 𝘢𝘮, 𝘔𝘶𝘮. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵? 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵.”

    𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘔𝘶𝘮’𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦, “𝘔𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘱𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘥. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘴 𝘮𝘦, 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘵.”

    “𝘔𝘶𝘮, 𝘴𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘦𝘹𝘺, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘵.”

    𝘔𝘶𝘮 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘦𝘥. “𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘦𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵. 𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺… 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘮 𝘐. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯.”

    𝘐 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦. “𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯-𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘐’𝘭𝘭 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬, 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦𝘥. 𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘐’𝘥 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵,”

    “𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘭. 𝘕𝘰𝘸, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘶𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭.”

    • Joe Dornish says:

      Nice little teaser of what looks like a promising story to come, I hope it makes it to these pages soon. And good luck with the novel, you’re a great writer, I’m sure it’ll be wonderful.

    • Rachel says:

      Sounds like this could be fun. I do love ‘naughty with it’.

  25. Birdie says:

    Lovely little story, KS. Fun, enticing, and well-paced. I think you’re wise to leave the next chapter to our imaginations. As to the grammar discussion, I have to go with the singular, as in “The zipper of her blue jeans was already down.” Blue jeans is a singular noun that, like knickers, is treated as a plural noun (her blue jeans were a very nice fit). But the subject of the sentence was “zipper,” which is singular and should be treated as such. All that said, your work is wonderful, and I hope you’ll share more with us soon.

  26. Rachel says:

    A wonderful little story. Sexy and naughty with it.

  27. kinkychic says:

    I hadn’t read this from my little sister before (well not so little anymore). I used to always do the pre-edits before she would submit a new story, but of late, I have not had my mind in the right place to want to be involved.

    Perhaps this might serve as my wake-up call. It’s such a beautiful little story. Deliciously naughty and fun. I absolutely love it.

    Siobhan reminds of exactly how Bee acted at that age — she was a dreadful tease, a danger to some. She still is, but at least it’s only with me now.

  28. kinkys_sis says:

    @ Birdie – So glad you enjoyed it. As to what comes next of my JS offerings… it’s likely to be one of my older pieces rather than something newly written. Although I am working on a couple of new stories.

    @ Rachel – As ever, a big thank you.

    @ My lovely sister – 𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 – who me? But seriously, it’s wonderful to see you commenting again… and thank you. xxx

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