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My China Doll
By Misty Meadow
I’m lying in bed all snug and toasty beneath a warm blanket, snuggled up with my lover Lian, my breasts pressing against her bare back. We’ve just made love, and she is dozing peacefully, but I’m still awake, sampling the flavour of her on my lips, basking in memories of us and how we first came to be intimate. Would it shock you to know that our first time together happened when we were just twelve? Instead of sleeping, I want to remember that lovely day and how it began — and share that story with you.
*****
I step out of the tub, pull my shower cap off and shake out my long hair. Looking at myself in the mirror, I see a perfectly ordinary twelve-year-old girl. People tell me I’m pretty, but I think they’re trying to be nice; I’m just average, a bit young looking, perhaps, ‘cos I haven’t had my first period yet, but my nipples are growing and I think I can detect slight swellings where my tits will develop, any day now.
Down below there was a little wisp of pubic hair, but as soon as it appeared, Mum got me to shave it off. She says pubic hair is ugly, and shaves her own every day — or, to be more accurate, allows me to shave her. She’s perfectly capable of doing that herself, but wants me to do it ‘cos it’s an excuse for me to touch her pussy, which she likes a lot.
Duh! Of course she likes it. Who wouldn’t like to have another girl touch their pussy? Far as I’m concerned, practically any girl can put her hand between my legs whenever she wants. I know I sound like a bit of a slut, but Mum’s brought me up to be unashamed of my body, to be proud to show it off and to enjoy the awesome sensations I get when girls fool around with me.
This year at school, we had a lecture about “inappropriate” touching, and I had to laugh. It was all total bullshit! The only inappropriate touching is when you don’t want it to happen; then it’s a no-no. Otherwise, what’s wrong with it? Making a girl you like feel good, or letting her make you feel good in return — why on earth would that be a bad thing?
Okay, I’ll admit that I wouldn’t want a boy putting his hand up my skirt, that would be gross. But having a girl’s hand on the inside of my thigh, sliding higher and higher until it reaches heaven between my legs… well, that’s awesome. To me it’s not merely appropriate, in some cases I’d do anything to make it happen.
The school I go to, Montford Grammar, will eventually offer me what they call Sex Ed, a short course in “human reproduction,” but not for another year. For me it’ll be not only useless, but taught far too late. My mum has taken care of my sex education. She started when I was little more than a toddler, answering all my questions and showing me that sex is much more than just reproduction, it’s the most fantastic thing that a girl can… well, I’m getting ahead of myself here.
I look in my underwear drawer, riffling through the big pile of knickers that Mum buys for me on a regular basis, ‘cos she loves to look at me in my undies. Pretty much every time we go into town to shop, she buys me sexy underwear. She likes see-through things, lacy boy shorts, thongs — even bought me a pair of crotchless panties one time, which I found highly amusing and quite thrilling to wear to school the next day. When I got home from school that afternoon, Mum wanted to know whom I’d flashed my treasure to, but I just gave her a smile, stayed silent and let her imagination fill in the blanks.
Mum appears in the doorway. I never lock or even close my bedroom door. She can barge in any time she likes. I don’t care, I’ve nothing to hide from her. I don’t even mind if she catches me fingering myself. Who do you think taught me to masturbate?
For as long as I can remember, Mum took her sweet time washing my vagina in the shower. She’d soap me all over and gently slide her middle finger up inside me.
“We have to get your treasure nice and clean,” she’d say. “Now do it to me, love. Get your hand nice and soapy, then see how many fingers you can get inside me.” I must’ve been about five or six and my hand was tiny, so I could fit the whole thing inside her hot, wet pussy. It was such fun — the best game I’d ever played!
One day, just before my eighth birthday, I was lying naked on my back on my bed after our shower and she was admiring my pussy, stroking it gently with her fingertips, telling me how pretty it was.
Suddenly, I had an idea. “Why don’t you kiss it?” I asked, surprised at my own boldness.
And she did. Oh, she kissed it, all right. She kissed and licked and sucked and probed inside me with her tongue and… well, you know what I’m talking about. To me, it was the most beautiful thing ever. Naturally, when Mum came up for air, I demanded that she let me do that to her. She wasn’t sure at first, but then lay back and spread her legs wide apart, letting me see every bit of her pussy. Grinning like a fool, I got down on my belly and began to kiss her there, then I started to lick. She went kind of crazy really fast, acting just the same way I did. I just kept going until she made me stop. My face was soaked!
After it was over she explained to me what an orgasm is, and how it felt so good that you had to make lots of noise and yell dirty words. She thanked me over and over and told me that one day soon, I’d be having orgasms of my own. I couldn’t wait!
Now, Mum steps into the room, dressed in a sheer camisole and tap pants to match. I can see her dark nipples and her shaved vagina through them. She isn’t even thirty years old and looks even younger. No doubt about it, I have the hottest mum of all the kids in my school. Small and slender like me, she doesn’t have an ounce of fat on her body. It’s no wonder she has lots of girlfriends, by which I mean lesbian lovers. Yes, my mother never made any secret of the fact that she isn’t into men. So how did I happen? I was adopted as a newborn baby. I’m glad it was Mum who selected me, too. I love her so much.
“I can’t decide which knickers to wear, Mum,” I tell her.
“Wear your invisible ones,” she suggests. See, we have this running joke where I pretend to put on a pair of invisible knickers, and she pretends to admire them.
“Sure.” I’m happy to be naked under my clothes; it’s even better than wearing sexy see-through undies. Best of all is to go completely nude, which is what I usually do around the house.
Mum smiles, giving me that special look that means she’s in the mood to play. “Come downstairs, Misty. There’s something I want you to see.”
I follow her down to the living room, where she seats herself on the couch. “Come sit on my lap.” Already getting excited, I straddle her thighs. “Now, take the laptop and lean back against me.”
“Okay.” I rest the laptop on my bare legs and open it, eager to see what Mum has found for us to watch.
“Click on the Pictures file,” she says. I can’t see her smile, but I hear it in her voice.
I gasp as I see her latest download. Two naked girls, both about my age, sit on the floor in front of a huge armchair. Their knees are raised and spread about as wide as they can go, putting their smooth vaginas on display to the camera. Their faces are filled with joy, and I can see how much they love having the chance to show off their private parts. Mum is peering over my shoulder. “Aren’t they adorable?”
Adorable wouldn’t be my first choice of words. Naughty doesn’t quite describe it, nor does sexy. Delicious might be the best. I’ll bet that describes how those sweet little pussies taste. It’s one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen — like the pictures Mum takes of me when I’m naked or in my undies, but better, ‘cos I already know what I look like with no clothes on.
“Wow!” I breathe. “So pretty! Where’d you find this?”
“Oh, one of my lovers emailed it to me. She knows I’m into little girls. But I had to email her back and stop her from sending any more, because this is absolute child porn. After all, we don’t know who’s reading our email. I’ll try to get more of these the next time I see her.”
As I gaze at the screen, Mum’s hand sneaks round my waist, briefly brushes my nipples, then slides down between my legs, her fingers probing gently into my pink grotto. I lean back, feeling her breasts pressing against my shoulder blades, the nipples hard under the sheer silky material of her camisole.
“You’re wet,” she whispers. “In just a few seconds you’ve become soaking wet.” She brings those fingers to her lips and sucks on them. I twist around, slide one of Mum’s shoulder straps off to expose her breast, then bend down to take the tip of it into my mouth, sucking hard on her nipple and biting it gently now and then. She gasps. I bite harder, knowing that she likes the pain.
Her hand slips between my legs again. “Oh, my darling Misty,” she groans, “I love you so much! I can’t get enough of you… my good little lover.”
I lift my head, looking up at her. “What would you like to do to me, Mummy?” I’m using my little-girl voice, ‘cos I know how hot that makes her.
“I want to eat your cunt,” Mum says, crudely. I love it when she talks dirty!
Without a word I climb from her lap and stand up on the couch to face Mum, my feet on either side of her hips. I push my hips forward so that my vagina, my treasure, my cunt is about an inch away from her face. She presses her mouth into me and her tongue goes to work, quickly and expertly bringing me to a crashing orgasm.
Oh, yes, I have orgasms. I’ve been having them for years now. Mum’s not the only one who writhes and groans and yells dirty words.
*****
I’m standing outside the school gates, talking to my friend Becky. We used to touch each other you-know-where in a bathroom stall in the upstairs toilet. One day, though, she fell for another girl, so now we’re just friends.
“Look,” she says, “here comes Lian.”
I like to think of Lian as my little China doll. People who don’t know better think that Asians have yellow skin and slitted eyes, which is absolute nonsense.
Lian’s skin is just like mine would be if I had a light all-over tan, and her dark eyes are huge, surrounded by long lashes. Her nose is tiny and cute, her full lips are always smiling, and she has black hair that falls all the way down to her bum. Lian’s name in Chinese means, “graceful willow,” but calling her graceful doesn’t do her justice. I also like words like stunning, exquisite, or angelic, ‘cos to me she’s all those things. Her parents arrived in the UK just days before Hong Kong was taken over by the Chinese. Years later, they had a baby girl who is now eleven — and I’m crazy in love with her.
Lian joined the first form of our school in West London at the start of the autumn term. She’s one year behind me. The girls in her form teased her, calling her “Chink,” but I told her right away that they were all jealous of how beautiful she was, and we created an instant bond.
“I hear she has a crush on you,” Becky says.
“Who told you that?”
“It’s all over the school. Isn’t she gorgeous?”
“Hands off, Becky, she’s mine,” I scowl.
Becky grins at me. “Fuckin’ slut,” she says.
“Nothing wrong with sluts,” I call as Becky walks away. “I love sluts. Sluts are awesome!” I don’t think she hears me.
I turn around to catch Lian before she passes by. “Hey, Lian,” I call, waving to her.
Her eyes light up, and she comes over to where I’m standing. ‘Hi, Misty!”
“Say, wanna walk home with me?”
She looks puzzled. “You mean… to your house?”
“Sure. We can hang out together. My mum’s not home until later. I can help you with your homework.”
I don’t know why I said that — Lian’s one of the best students in the whole school! Still, it’s not as if I can tell her, Come over to my place! I’ll take your knickers off and lick your pussy.
Dumb as it is, my suggestion seems to work, because Lian nods and grins, taking out her cell phone. “I’ll just call my mum and tell her I’m gonna be late.”
I look Lian up and down while she rings her mother. She looks so adorable in her school uniform — those lovely thin legs growing out of her white ankle socks and under her tartan skirt, all the way up to paradise. Her body is still that of a little girl, with a chest even flatter than my own, and skin smooth as silk.
“It’s fine,” she says, putting her phone away. I hook my arm through hers, and we set off.
*****
“Oh, my God, you’re gorgeous!” Mum gushes when I introduce Lian. “Come inside, both of you, and I’ll fix you some ice cream.” Clearly, she thinks Lian is every bit as beautiful as I do. She fusses about the room, hardly able to take her eyes off my new friend.
“Hey, how would you like to sleep over, Lian?” I ask, going for broke.
“Oh, yes,” Mum jumps in. “That’s a wonderful idea. Call your parents and ask if it’s all right with them!”
Lian phones home and talks for a while, then hands the phone to Mum who reassures Lian’s mum that everything will be fine — homework will be done, bedtimes honoured and we’d both be dispatched off to school the next day at the proper time. “It’s all arranged,” Mum says, hanging up. “Why don’t you both go upstairs and hang out for awhile? I’ll call you when dinner’s ready.”
How about that, Mum forgot about the ice cream. No problem — I can’t wait to get Lian alone. She’s the only sweet treat I’m thinking about!
*****
Our homework’s done, dinner’s been eaten and now I’m seated in front of my dressing table, painting my toenails, dressed in nothing more than my old cotton nightie. Mum bought it for me back when I was much younger and shorter, and now it’s way too small for me and barely covers my bum. I’ve loaned Lian one of my T shirts to use as a nightie. She looks so nice in it, too, with just a pair of white knickers underneath. She’s looking at me — staring, in fact — her gaze focused on my treasure, my most private part, my vagina. See, my nightie is far too short to conceal it, and my lifted leg gives her a perfect view.
I concentrate on doing a perfect job of lacquering my toenails, letting her look at my muffin — which is what I used to call it when I was little, before Mum taught me the word cunt. Lately, though, I’ve come to really like saying “muffin,” again, so I use that more now.
Lian’s gaze is like a physical touch, and I can feel a warm tingle building up in my tummy. In a mood to be especially naughty, I swivel round in my chair to give her an even better view. I don’t want her to stop looking, so I pretend to botch the nail job, wipe the nail varnish off with a cotton ball and start over again.
Not that there’s anything special about my muffin. It’s just like that of any other twelve-year-old, a vertical slit without a trace of hair. Lots of other girls and some women have seen it before, but I don’t think there’s anyone who’s looked at it quite like Lian is at this moment. I look up, smile and try to make eye contact with her, but she can’t stop staring at my muffin. I finish my left toes, lower my leg and lift the other.
“Pass me the cotton balls,” I say, positioning my heel firmly on the edge of the chair. She hands me the package, and I slip four of them between my toes and start painting again. Her eyes stay locked on me until I finish. “There!” I say, extending my leg for her appraisal. “How does that look?”
“Perfect,” she says, still stealing glances at my treasure.
“I meant my toes, not my muffin,” I say, grinning. “You haven’t stopped looking at it since I started.”
Lian’s cheeks turn a bright pink. “I’m sorry, Misty,” she says. “I didn’t mean to…”
I quiet her with a shake of the head. “Oh, I don’t mind. I like having my muffin looked at. Hey, wanna see my tits?” I pull my nightie high up on my chest to expose my erect nipples. I’m proud of them, though the slight swelling of my breasts is a lot harder to notice. Lian’s eyes grow bigger and her face flushes even brighter. I don’t quite know why I’m so excited, but this is really fun, much more fun than the computer games we’ve been playing. My little China Doll seems to be hypnotized, unable to stop staring at my naked body. I lift both legs in the air, waving them about to dry the nail varnish, with my bum right on the edge of the chair. Now she can probably see my little brown rosebud, too. That’s fine with me — the more she sees, the better.
“Your turn now,” I say, lowering my legs.
“To paint my toenails?”
“Well, okay, sure — but I meant that it was your turn to take your knickers off so I can see your muffin. I showed you mine, so you have to show me yours, okay? It’s a rule.”
“Um, I guess,” she said, a bit nervously, then began to hoist her nightie.
“Wait!” I stopped her. “Let me do it for you.”
Her eyes, already large, get even bigger. “Really?”
I nod eagerly. “Yeah! Just lie back, put your hands behind your head, and I’ll take them off.”
Lian meekly does as I say, holding her head up with laced fingers — so she can watch, I reckon. I slide off my chair and kneel in front of her. The thought flickers through my mind that kneeling is the position used by worshipers, and at this moment, that’s utterly perfect. I’m about to worship another girl’s vagina, not my mum’s, but the cunt of a beautiful girl of my own age.
I hook my fingers into the waist of Lian’s knickers and slowly, slowly tug them down. She helpfully raises her hips for me — and it’s that little gesture of willingness and submission that makes my heart flutter. Her muffin comes into view, almost identical to my own. It’s even baby-smooth like mine, although I’m sure it’s not because Lian shaves. She hasn’t reached puberty yet, but I don’t care. I love her exactly the way she is, a stunningly beautiful little Chinese girl with a smile that melts my heart. Taking hold of her ankles, I remove her knickers, push her legs up to bend her knees, then place her feet on the edge of the bed. Now I can get as close as I like to Lian’s muffin! I lean in until my nose is about six inches from it. I breathe in, drawing in the lovely scent of her.
“Oh, Lian,” I sigh, “it’s adorable!”
“I… I’ve never let anyone look at me like this before.”
I give her a radiant smile. “Now we have no secrets from each other. We can hang out together without any clothes on at all and look at each other’s beautiful bodies as much as we want.” I decide to be totally honest with her. “I’m gonna let you into a secret… if you promise never to tell anyone.”
Lian looks at me intently. “I promise. What is it?”
“My mum looks at my muffin, too — and she lets me look at hers. Not only that, I get to shave her pubic hair off every week.”
“You actually touch her down there?” she gasps, surprised.
“Yes, she loves it, and I let her touch mine.”
Lian’s mouth is hanging open in astonishment. “That… that’s so naughty.”
“Very naughty. Mum and I do lots of naughty things. We always have — ever since I learned how to walk, I think. Nothing’s off limits when it comes to our bodies. We do whatever makes us happy. Now c’mon, Lian, lift your t-shirt and show me your tits.”
“I don’t have any yet,” she says, pulling it up.
“You have nipples. Everyone has nipples.” I study the pretty swollen buds, licking my lips. “Oh, they’re so cute! Just you wait, Lian — soon they’ll start to grow like mine.” My nightie is still hoisted up to my chest. I decide it’s only going to get in the way, so I pull it over my head and toss it aside. Now I’m utterly naked with my new best friend and she can look at me all she likes, the more the better.
“Okay, I’ll do your nails.” I load up her toes with cotton balls and start the paint job — applying it carefully, taking my sweet time. All the while, I can look right at Lian’s muffin as much as I like. I try to make the job last as long as possible, but all too soon I’m finished. “There, all done.” I lift her feet so she can see my handiwork, holding her legs high in the air to expose her sweet little bum hole, puckered as though offering a kiss. Then I let her legs go, sit down beside her and lie back. Rolling onto one hip, I drink in the sight of her young body.
“Lian,” I murmur tentatively, “I could really fall in love with you. You’re so beautiful… you take my breath away. This is a moment I’ll treasure forever, just the two of us alone, looking at each other with no clothes on. You know, when I was painting my nails, I was feeling all excited ‘cos of the way you were looking at my pussy.”
Sitting up, Lian runs her gaze up and down my bare body. “I think you’re lots more beautiful than me,” she says, frowning. “Your boobs are more like a woman’s than mine. Me, I’m still just like a boy.” She pulls her t-shirt over her head and drops it to the floor, shaking her long, black hair free.
I lift both arms up above my head and stretch my body like a cat waking up. Again, I can feel the warmth of her stare, making me tingle all over. “We sound like a couple of lesbians, huh?” I laugh. “Wonder if we’ll grow up to be gay.” (Actually, I’m not wondering any such thing. I know for a fact that I’m already just as queer as Mum.)
“I definitely wanna be gay,” Lian affirms, to my delight. “Boys suck. Girls are so much nicer.”
“And sexier. Can you imagine if a boy pulled his pants down and showed off his cock?”
Lian makes a face. “Ugh! Gross!”
My mind is racing, wicked thoughts swirling round my brain. I want to caress Lian’s gorgeous body all over. I wonder how she’d react if I actually touched her muffin. If she touched mine I’d be in heaven. By now, I’m sure we both want the same thing, but suppose we’re both afraid of being rejected. I have to break the ice somehow. Now, suddenly, I have an idea.
“Hey, let’s play lesbians!” Her face lights up, so I continue. “We can pretend to be gay and do gay stuff, just to be naughty. Sounds like fun, huh?”
“Oh, yes! But, um, what do lesbians do?” Lian eagerly asks.
“Well, first…” I murmur, moving closer, “they kiss.”
From the moment I first laid eyes on Lian walking shyly down the school corridor, I’ve wanted to kiss those sweet red lips, always bright as though she were wearing lipstick, though she never does.
I reach up and pull her down to me and our mouths come together. My heart skips a beat. I put my arms round her neck and hug her tightly. To my surprise, I feel Lian’s tongue probe between my lips, sending a special thrill through my body. She’s entering me in a totally intimate way and I welcome it. I open my lips wider and suck on her tongue. I can hear the hiss of breath through our noses as we continue to kiss. I extend my own tongue and she accepts it, drawing it into her mouth and caressing it with her own. Her body rolls onto mine and I part my legs to let her thigh slip between them. It rubs up against my muffin, sending electric shocks through me.
We come up for air and she lies back. I lift my head and look at her flushed, but radiant face. “That was awesome!” I breathe.
“I think I’m falling in love with you, Misty,” she whispers.
I can’t stop grinning. “Me too, Lian, ever since I first saw you. Just now, when I put my tongue into your mouth, d’you know what I was thinking?”
“No.”
“I was thinking it would be more exciting if I did that to your muffin.” There, I’ve said it, said what’s been occupying my thoughts all evening.
“Oh, my God! You mean, lick me down there? When you were painting your toenails, I was looking at yours and fantasising about kissing it, but I thought it was kinda like, weird, you know?”
“No, no! It’s not weird at all. In fact, it’s what lesbians do. Haven’t you seen pictures of girls having sex with other girls on the internet, then?”
Lian makes a face, then shrugs. “My computer has parental controls. I can’t surf for porn.”
“Really? Then later, we’ll look at mine. There’s oceans of stuff, full of lesbians doing all sorts of amazing things. Licking each other down there seems to be what they like best, though.” I reach out to touch her leg. “Can I look at yours again?”
I sit up next to Lian as she spreads her legs. Her mound is prominent, bigger than mine, bisected by her little-girl slit. It’s not a remarkable sight in itself, but the fact that she’s not just willing, but eager for me to look at it is what makes my pulse race. There she lies, flat on her back, legs spread wide for me, and best of all, a huge smile on her lovely face. I kneel between her feet, then fall forward onto my elbows. Once again, my face is just inches away from heaven. I can detect a faint but rich aroma, that same exciting fragrance that lingers on my fingertips after I pleasure myself late at night.
I gaze at Lian’s treasure, my excitement building. With one hand, I reach out, letting my fingertips caress her moist cleft — gently probing, searching for entry. My middle finger finds the way into her vagina, and she gasps.
I glance up at her. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, p-push it in all the way!” she hisses. “My fingers go all the way in — so can yours.”
I move deep into her, turn my hand palm up and curl my finger. She gasps again, and I know I’ve hit that spot, the one that feels so good when I do this to myself.
“Yes, yes!” she cries. “Oh, this is so good!”
I push my finger in and out a dozen or so times, fucking her nice and steady — then withdraw it, slip the wet finger into my mouth to suck.
Lian props herself up on both elbows, her mouth set in a pout. “Why’d you stop!?”
I just smile. “Cos this is what I’ve been wanting to do.” I move in, pressing my lips firmly against her and pushing my tongue inside. Her hips lift up to meet me, and I can feel her fingernails digging into my scalp. I thrust my tongue in and out until it begins to ache, then I drag it up through her slit until the tip reaches that sweet spot, that little nub that can give a girl so much pleasure.
Lian moans. I have to breathe through my nose while I lick her, and each time I inhale, the sharp scent of her sex only adds to my excitement. She opens her legs further, as if inviting me to lick even deeper. As I go down on my new lover, I reach up to caress her flat chest. My fingers find her nipples, then gently squeeze and pinch them. Small as they are, Lian’s nipples are surprisingly stiff.
My tongue flicks and teases her tiny clit and she croaks, “Misty, oh Misty, I love you so much!” her voice hoarse with lust.
I lift my head and gaze at her — moved by the sight of those enormous eyes, now filled with happy tears. “I love you too, Lian,” I say, heart swelling in my chest. I give her muffin a soft, lingering kiss, then ask, “Would you like to lick mine?”
“Oh, yes, yes!” she says, quickly sitting up.
I climb onto the bed and lie back, my legs spread for her. My tummy quivers with excitement as Lian’s face, wearing an expression of adoration, draws nearer and nearer to my muffin. When her lips meet my cunt, a wave of pure lust washes through my body. I stroke her hair, then curl my fingers into those jet black tresses, holding her face against my treasure. I can hear Lian breathing hard through her nose as she licks me. Just as I did to her, she reaches up to caress my chest and finger my nipples — which, by now, are so hard they ache.
“Oh, Lian, you’re driving me crazy! Nothing’s ever f-felt so good! Don’t stop. Oh my sweet Jesus, I’m so in love with you. I’m on fire!” Okay, I’m not really in flames, but it sure feels like it. The blaze starts down where her tongue is bringing me to heights of ecstasy, spreading through my tummy and suddenly exploding through every atom of my body. My fingers grip her hair and my toes curl. For long seconds, the world disappears, leaving me in heaven, awash in love and lust.
Finally, I slowly come down to earth, panting for breath. “I came! You made me come, Lian! It was unbelievable!”
She lifts her head and stares at me, her flushed face wet, eyes alight. “What did it feel like?”
“I… bloody hell, there aren’t any words to describe it. I want you to experience it for yourself.”
I drag Lian up over my body by her elbows, give her a brief but very heated kiss, then roll her off me and onto her back. She lies before me, legs spread, her feet on the floor — and in less than a heartbeat I’m kneeling between my China doll’s thighs, gazing at what is now the centre of my universe.
She’s so aroused that I don’t think this will take very long… but I’ll lick her for as long as I need to! Lian shivers with delight as my lips touch hers, and something about that sets me off, so suddenly I’m going wild on her pussy, doing everything I know how to drive my lover crazy. Her little-girl body writhes and twists, hips thrusting up to meet me as my tongue goes to work. I use all the oral techniques that Mum has taught me, everything I know about how to please a girl with my mouth. I guess I learned those lessons well because, in less than a minute, Lian lets out a loud cry, clamps her thighs round my head and gasps for air, shaking hard for at least a minute, then going limp like a puppet whose strings just got cut.
I’ve made her come! I lift my head and look up at Lian’s beautiful Asian face, gazing into those big eyes, just loving, loving, loving her.
There’s a knock at the door. Mum’s voice calls, “Is everything okay in there?”
I get to my feet and open the door. I hear Lian give a squeak of alarm, and from the corner of my eye I see her roll onto her tummy and hide her head under a pillow.
Mom glances into the room. “I heard someone yell.” Her expression is serious, but I can read the delight in her eyes.
“Come in, Mum, everything’s fine. We just got carried away, that’s all.” She’s wearing a short robe, loosely belted. That’s all she’s wearing, I bet!
“Well, what’ve we got here?” Mum says, “I can see the sweet bum of a little Chinese girl. It looks almost as delicious as my own daughter’s bum, and that’s the sexiest one in the world.” She turns to me. “Will we be seeing any more of her, then?”
“It’s okay, Lian,” I say, “you don’t have to hide. I told you, Mum and I, we hang out naked all the time, so there’s no reason to be embarrassed.”
Lian lifts the pillow from her head and looks at Mum, unsure of what to say. “Uh…”
“If it’ll make you feel any better, I can get naked too,” Mum says. “Misty and I are proud of our bodies, aren’t we, love?”
“Proud and willing to show them off,” I reply, backing Mum up.
As Lian slowly rolls onto her back, I reach out to give the belt of Mum’s robe a sharp tug. It falls open to reveal her small, firm tits and her shaved muffin. She shrugs it off, puts her hands on her bum and pushes her hips forward. “See?” Mum says, “you can look all you like. The more you look, the more excited I get.”
“And I get excited, too,” I say, “just from looking at her. Isn’t she gorgeous? I have the sexiest mum in the whole world!”
Lian lies there, face still flushed from her orgasm, letting Mum gaze down at her.
“Look, Misty, her pussy’s just like yours was a year ago!” She sits down on the bed next to my China doll. “I just love little girls’ pussies, especially when they show them off to me like you are, Lian. To me, you’re just like my daughter, always eager to show off your nakedness, knowing how excited your audience will be. I’m utterly thrilled. I could fall head over heels in love with you.”
Lian smiles, her embarrassment quickly evaporating as Mum’s words reassure her. “Misty licked me,” she smugly announces. “She made me come. It was my first orgasm!”
Mum coos with delight. “Oh, Misty, I’m so proud of you.”
And I’m just as proud of my naked mother as she shows herself off, the sexiest mum in the world! I’m also filled with gratitude for the way she’s raised me, to delight in my own body and to love girls every bit as much as she does.
Not for the first time, I wonder how I can repay her. At that same instant, I remember that it’s her birthday tomorrow, and get an idea. A wonderful, loving, very naughty idea!
“Mum,” I say, suddenly serious. “I want to give you your birthday present a day early.” She frowns at me, slightly irked that I’ve changed the subject, interrupted the flow of her little chat about sex. “I want Lian to sleep in your bed tonight. I’m giving her to you. Is that okay, Lian?”
The little girl’s eyes are wide in amazement as she takes in what I’m saying… then she slowly nods. “Um, yes.” She grins. “Yes, that sounds lovely!”
There’s a short pause, then Mum leans in, takes Lian’s lovely face between her hands and kisses her, a long, lingering, passionate kiss. She comes up for air, leaving Lian gasping.
“Why don’t you both sleep with me?” Mum suggests. “It’s a nice big bed, plenty of room for three.” Lian’s smile gets even bigger, and I know that she’s going to go along with it. “Misty,” Mum turns to me, “this is the most perfect birthday present I’ve ever been given. Thank you so much, my darling.”
She stands and offers a hand to Lian, helping her up and onto her feet. They exit my bedroom and I follow them into Mum’s room, pausing to close the door behind me.
The End
Caring for Molly, Chapter 1
By Girl Lover
Wanted: Caregiver for 11-year-old girl, blind, disabled, wheelchair-bound. Mon–Fri, 3:00–9:00 PM, $9/hr, 512-555-1278
The ad caught Kendra’s eye. She pulled it off the bulletin board and read it again.
‘Blind and disabled. Shit, that sucks’, she thought, ‘Nine dollars an hour, though. Nine dollars times six hours a day… that’s fifty-four dollars a day, times five days is…’
She dug out her phone and accessed the calculator. 54 x 5 = 270. Kendra’s eyes widened in amazement. Almost three hundred dollars a week. The sixteen-year-old knew a lot of things she could buy with that much money. In just four weeks, she could have over a thousand dollars. She didn’t know what would be involved with taking care of a handicapped girl, but for two hundred and seventy dollars a week, she was willing to find out.
“What’re you looking at?”
Pocketing the paper, Kendra turned to see one of her friends, Stacy, standing beside her. “Oh, just checking the ads.”
They turned away and walked toward the cafeteria. It was lunchtime at McCallum Middle/High School, a school that combined grades 6 through 12 in the same school. They got in line and then sat with their other friends at their usual table.
After school let out at three o’clock, Kendra hurried home.
“Mom!” she called out, dropping her backpack on the couch. “There’s this job after school—”
“Kendra, the couch is not where your backpack goes!”
“Ohhh!” Kendra groaned as she went over and picked it up, and hurried to her room. Quickly opening the door, she tossed the backpack toward the bed, then returned to the kitchen where her mother was slicing potatoes.
“There’s this job that pays two hundred and seventy dollars a week! It’s from three to nine every day—”
Her mom turned. “Three to nine?! From the time you get out of school until nine at night?! What about your homework? What about family time?”
“Mommm! It pays two hundred and seventy dollars! You’re always telling me how expensive things are. Well, with this job, I can buy my own stuff. And I can do my homework while I’m there.”
“But nine at night. That’s too late. Your father and I will hardly see you.”
“Yes, you will. You’ll see me on weekends,” Kendra replied sarcastically.
Her mother gave her that look that she had become accustomed to giving as her daughter became older but not necessarily wiser. She looked at the girl for several seconds, thinking. Kendra did have a point about the money. She was always wanting some new outfit or jewelry, and now that she was sixteen, she was hanging out with her friends more, which meant even more money needed.
“Who’s this person you’re watching?”
“She’s eleven, but she’s blind and in a wheelchair or something. I think I’m supposed to help her with stuff,” Kendra replied.
“How do you know you’ll be able to do your homework if you’re busy attending a disabled girl?”
“I’ll ask ‘em that when I call about the job.”
Her mother thought some more. Helping a disabled person was a worthwhile cause. She shrugged, “Okay. I suppose since you’re helping someone who really needs help, that’s something I can’t say no to. But I want you to keep on top of your homework, and we’re going to have family time when you get home.”
Kendra smiled and gave her hug. “Thanks, Mom. The money will sure come in handy.”
“Well, I’m glad you’ve got your priorities straight.” Her mother rolled her eyes and went back to preparing dinner as Kendra pulled out her phone and dialed the number on the ad.
After a short conversation with the girl’s mother who answered, Kendra drove over to their house. When she turned onto Exposition Blvd where the address was, she gawked at the luxurious homes set back from the street and apart from each other, each seemingly on its own acre of land. The abundance of trees in the yards provided plenty of shade everywhere. She found the address and pulled into the driveway, staring in awe at the large house as she climbed out of her car.
“So, this is what it’s like to be rich,” she remarked to herself as she stepped up onto the porch and rang the bell.
The door was opened by a thirty-something woman with medium length dark hair, wearing a casual dress. “Hi! Come on in.”
Kendra walked inside a tidy, elegant home. Carpeted floors, lavish furnishings, and a patio window overlooking a swimming pool in the back.
“Thank you so much for coming, Kendra. I’m Ms. Carrington.”
Kendra shook her hand and followed her towards the couch. “Please have a seat,” Ms. Carrington indicated to the teenager. They both sat.
“As I stated in the ad, I need a caregiver for my daughter, Molly. The lady who was doing it had to move, and so I need someone who’s dependable and understanding, who can come here after school and stay with her till I get off work at nine. On Fridays, I usually work till midnight. Molly is very self-sufficient, but there are some things she needs help with, such as cooking dinner, helping her in and out of the bathtub for her bath, exercising her legs when she goes to bed and anything else that might come up. Most importantly, she needs a companion. Someone to be with her and talk to when I’m not here. Are you okay with all these things?”
“Yes, Ms. Carrington. I’ve babysat before.”
“Well, it can be challenging. Her condition makes it difficult for her sometimes and so she’ll have her good days and bad days. That’s when she especially needs you, and you’ll need patience and understanding of what it’s like for her.”
Kendra frowned confusedly. “Her bad days?”
Ms. Carrington gave a halfhearted smile as her voice became quieter. “Sometimes her condition overwhelms her and reminds her how much she can’t do. She’ll hear the other kids running around and playing and she wants to join them so bad… she does the best that she can, though.”
She reached over towards the coffee table for a tissue to dry her eyes. “Her bad days are bad for me too.”
After several seconds, Kendra, trying to be as polite as possible, said, “Has she always been…?”
“Yes. She was born with multifocal mononeuropathy. It was a difficult birth, premature, and complications caused the nerves involved with her vision and leg muscles to be damaged.”
“Is there any way to fix it?” Kendra asked hopefully.
“No,” Ms. Carrington shook her head sadly. “She’ll be this way the rest of her life.”
She was quiet for a few seconds, seemingly thinking to herself, before saying, “Could you stay until about eight tonight? I can make you some dinner, and that way you can see what the job’s like and if you’ll be comfortable with things like helping her in and out of the tub and exercising her legs.”
“Sure, I can stay.”
Ms. Carrington stood up. “Good, okay, let’s meet Molly.”
She led Kendra down the hall. “Because of her condition, Molly’s always shy around strangers, so it may take some time for her to warm up to you.”
Opening the door at the end of the hall, she said in a cheerful tone, “Molly, there’s someone here who would like to meet you.” The woman stepped inside and Kendra slowly followed.
Inside, she saw a large bedroom, similar to her own in some ways, only bigger. As she looked around, she saw that the walls were bare with no pictures or mirror. Thinking it odd at first, she then remembered the girl was blind and wouldn’t be able to use such things. There was a long, low shelf with some books, board games and other toys, a computer on a desk, and a plush stuffed animal duck on the bed. The little girl was on her bed reading a book which surprised Kendra.
Molly looked up from her book towards her mother, a look of nervousness on her face.
Ms. Carrington walked towards the bed and sat on it at Molly’s feet. “Come on in,” she said to Kendra.
Kendra slowly came over and stood next to the bed while Molly set down the book.
“Molly, this is Kendra. Kendra, this is Molly,” Ms. Carrington said.
“Uh, hi,” said Kendra, not knowing what to expect.
Instead of returning her greeting or even looking at her, Molly whispered gloomily to her mother, “I want Mrs. Lebowitz.”
“I know you do, but we talked about this last night. Her husband got a new job and she had to move,” Ms. Carrington explained patiently before turning to Kendra. “Mrs. Lebowitz was the lady who stayed with Molly before. They were very close, and it’s hard to say goodbye sometimes.”
Kendra nodded as Ms. Carrington suggested to Molly, “Why don’t you tell Kendra about your book.”
“Why can’t Mrs. Lebowitz come back?”
“Molly, we’ve been over this,” Ms. Carrington said with a bit of exasperation. “There’s someone else here who wants to meet you. What are you reading?”
Molly didn’t answer, instead raising the book so her mother could read the title, Nancy Drew: The Secret of the Old Clock. Still tying to coax her daughter out of her shell, Ms. Carrington tried to engage her again, “Ooh, that’s your favorite one, isn’t it? Do you want to tell Kendra what it’s about?”
Molly quietly shook her head.
Ms. Carrington looked at Kendra and sighed, “I’m sorry. Like I said, sometimes it takes her a while to warm up.”
She got to her feet. “Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the house.” She left the room and Kendra followed.
As they walked, Ms. Carrington explained quietly, “Part of the problem is because she’s different from everyone else. Everyone else can see and walk, but she can’t. She’s embarrassed by having to use a wheelchair when nobody else does. Also, she doesn’t have any friends except the few other students and teachers in her class. Since she only sees them during school, she gets really lonely. Now that Mrs. Lebowitz is gone, she feels more alone than ever.”
Ms. Carrington showed Kendra the bathroom and the kitchen, explaining things as they went. Then they stepped out onto the back patio where Kendra stared enviously at the below-ground pool. The wooded yard stretched out much farther than her own backyard and had ivy and garden decorations scattered about. They walked over to the pool and as they looked out over the yard, Kendra remembered something that had puzzled her. “How can Molly read that book if she’s blind?”
“It’s written in braille. Lots of books are.”
“And the games and the computer?”
“The games are in braille along with the computer keyboard. The computer has an audible voice that describes things on the screen so she can navigate it. There’s also a program called Jaws which reads any text on the internet.”
Kendra noticed that the side of the pool facing the house had a ramp leading down into it. “Does Molly, um, go swimming?”
“Yes. She rolls her wheelchair down the ramp into the pool. Once the water’s deep enough, she can float out of her chair with a swim vest that she wears to keep her on the surface since she can’t use her legs.”
“What else can she do?”
“Oh, lots of things. She loves making things out of Play-Doh, listening to music, going to the park, playing putt-putt golf. Some things, such as golf, she needs help with, but she can do them.”
“You said earlier that she needs help getting in and out of the tub, and also her legs exercised?”
“Yes, she’s not strong enough to lower herself safely into the tub when she’s starting her bath and when she’s done, she can’t get out of the tub and into her wheelchair again. A person’s legs weigh a lot and trying to lift yourself up is really hard unless your arms are strong. About the leg exercising… because she can’t move her legs, if the joints in the hips, knees, and feet aren’t moved regularly, they can lock up permanently. It’s called contracture. Nurses in hospitals move the joints of bed-bound patients to prevent it.”
They stood quietly looking at the yard before a voice broke the silence behind them.
“Mom?”
They both turned around to see Molly in her wheelchair just inside the backdoor, her sightless eyes vainly searching for them. “Can we have pizza for dinner?”
“Sure, honey. Come out here with us.”
Molly didn’t move. Ms. Carrington walked over to her while Kendra remained behind at the pool. Kneeling down, Ms. Carrington told her quietly, “Molly, please give Kendra a chance.”
“I want Mrs. Lebowitz,” Molly repeated in her small, sad voice.
“I know, dear. But she can’t be here, and we need someone to help. I think if you give her a chance, you’ll like Kendra just as much.”
“But she doesn’t know me. She’ll think I’m stupid like the other kids do.”
“No, she won’t. She’s not that way. And unless you tell her about yourself, she’ll never know who you are. You need to talk to her and show her what you can do. Show her how smart and capable you are. Tell you what. Let’s go to your room and you can show her your stuff and then I’ll order us a pizza, okay?”
“Okay.”
Ms. Carrington stood up and smiled at Kendra. “Let’s go in and look at Molly’s things.”
Molly turned her wheelchair around and Ms. Carrington and Kendra followed her inside to her bedroom. Kendra was amazed at how Molly was able to head straight for the hallway and to her room without bumping into anything.
Once they were back in her room, Molly listlessly waved her arm and said in a dreary voice, “These are my books and games.”
“Molly, your stuff isn’t boring!” Ms. Carrington chided. “Tell Kendra why you like everything. Tell her about Nancy Drew.”
“Well… she’s a detective…” Molly began, then faltered.
“And?” her mother encouraged.
“And she’s got her own car… and she’s smart. Smarter than grownups!” Molly became more enthusiastic, “And she can do all kinds of things!”
Just as suddenly as she’d started, Molly seemed to run out of things to say and became quiet again.
“Why don’t you show Kendra your games,” said Ms. Carrington.
Molly wheeled herself along the side of the room, feeling her way with her left hand on the shelf. She touched the game of Monopoly, running her fingers quickly across the front of it, feeling the raised braille bumps along the surface, spelling out the name. “This is Monopoly.”
“She’s very good at that one,” Ms. Carrington mentioned to Kendra. “She beats me all the time.”
Molly continued pushing her chair along the shelf as her fingers ran along the other games. “…Scrabble…” Feeling more confident with her mom’s compliment, she added almost smugly, “You have to know a lot of words to play that… Uno… Sorry…”
Reaching the end of the games, her fingers felt the containers of Play-Doh and a coloring book, both of which seemed childish to her. Quickly pulling her fingers away, she stopped and turned around, then remained silent, looking embarrassed.
“Show Kendra your computer,” Ms. Carrington coaxed her.
Molly pushed her wheelchair across the room, steering around the bed without bumping into it, again impressing Kendra as to how Molly knew where the bed was without feeling for it.
Stopping in front of the computer, Molly turned it on. Once the Windows screen appeared, she put her hand on the mouse and moved it around. As the cursor touched the desktop icons, an audible voice named each one. Molly selected an icon called Access Invaders and began playing it. It was apparently a Space Invaders type of game with verbal cues to help the player. Kendra watched amazed at how adept Molly was in listening for the audio cues to guide her in playing.
“I’ve gotten all the way to level ten,” Molly proclaimed proudly.
Kendra watched spellbound. After a minute, she asked, “How’d you get so good?”
“I play it a lot.”
“Sometimes you play it too much,” her mother commented.
“No, I don’t,” Molly replied, then asked Kendra, “Do you play any games?”
“No, not really.”
“Hey, do you want to play Sorry with me?” Molly asked her.
“Sure!”
Molly exited the computer game, then quickly wheeled over to the shelf, briefly touching the boxes, reading them till she came to the game she was looking for. She took it off the shelf and brought it to the bed. Removing the lid, she lifted the game board out and laid it down, then handed Kendra several pieces while taking other pieces for herself.
“Put your pieces in the spaces for your color like I’m doing,” Molly instructed her.
Kendra looked at what Molly was doing and copied her.
“Now, I’m gonna go first.” Molly pushed the plastic dome in the center of the board, causing a electronic voice to say, “FOUR.” Molly moved the first of her pieces four spaces, then told Kendra, “Now you go. Push this.” She pointed to the plastic dome.
Kendra did so. “TWO.” Kendra moved her first piece two spaces.
Ms. Carrington watching from the doorway, a slight smile on her face, quietly left and went back to the living room to order the pizza.
Kendra and Molly continued playing, then Kendra remembered that she had to call her mother to tell her about staying at the Carrington’s till eight. After she made the call, they continued playing until Ms. Carrington’s voice sounded from the dining room, “The pizza’s here!”
Molly drew a quick breath of excitement and began pushing the wheels of her chair as fast as she could out the door and down the hall. Kendra followed along behind her.
As Kendra came into the dining room, Ms. Carrington called her over. She had an empty plate in front of her and a slice of pizza in her hand.
“I wanted to show you how I make Molly’s dinner plate. I make it the same way no matter what food we’re having. Think of this plate like the face of a clock. The main food goes at six o’clock. And the two sides…” she laid two BBQ wings and two breadsticks on the plate “…go at two o’clock and 10 o’clock. That way, she knows where the food is on her plate.” She placed the plate in front of Molly.
While they ate, Ms. Carrington conversed with Kendra about school and her own family. During their talk, Ms. Carrington became convinced that Kendra was the right person for the job. Molly remained silent despite her mother’s attempts to draw her into the conversation.
After they finished eating, Ms. Carrington picked up the plates and took them to the kitchen. “Molly, it’s time for your bath. Since Kendra is going to be staying with you, I need to show her how we help you in and out of the tub.”
Kendra watched as Molly’s face become instantly alarmed. “No, Mom — she doesn’t need to watch! I can do it myself!”
“Sweetie, I know it’s embarrassing, but it’s too easy for you to fall and hurt yourself.”
“Well, you can help me.”
“I’m not always going to be here, though. I’ll be at work and that’s why Kendra needs to watch me do it so she can help you.”
“Then I’ll just wait until you to come home.”
“No, you can’t stay up that late waiting for me. Look! You need help and that’s what Kendra’s here for. She needs to know what to do and—”
“I don’t want her to help me!”
“You didn’t have any problems with Mrs. Lebowitz helping you.”
“That was different!”
Seeing how agitated Molly was becoming, Ms. Carrington went over to her and knelt in front of the girl, taking her hands and saying gently, “I know you don’t want this. Neither do I, but it’s so you won’t get hurt. Kendra won’t make fun of you. I wouldn’t have her here if she wasn’t a good person, and I’ll be right there with you tonight.”
Though still not liking it, Molly silently nodded her head.
“Thank you, sweetie,” said her mother.
Molly unenthusiastically wheeled herself to the bathroom and Ms. Carrington turned on the water, letting the tub fill up.
As they waited outside the door for Molly to undress, Ms. Carrington quietly explained to Kendra, “She’s already embarrassed enough needing someone to help her do things, and now to be exposed this way…”
She grimaced and sighed. “This is one of those times that you’ll need to be understanding and imagine what it’s like for her.”
Kendra nodded, and after a moment asked, “Does Molly need help getting into bed?”
“No, the bed is at the same level as the wheelchair, so she can do that for herself.”
“Mom…?” they heard from behind the door.
Ms. Carrington went inside and walked over to Molly, who tried to cover her nakedness. As Kendra watched, Ms. Carrington explained how to do it as she helped Molly out of her chair.
“Molly will hold onto your shoulders while you pick her up under her legs and back, then…” she turned toward the tub and slowly lowered the girl “…squat down.”
Ms. Carrington stood back up. “After she’s done with her bath, do the same thing in reverse to put her back in her chair.” Then she motioned Kendra out of the bathroom. “She’ll call us when she’s done.”
They waited in the living room and talked while Molly bathed herself. About fifteen minutes later, they heard her calling out, “Mom…”
As they went into the bathroom, Kendra saw that the water was drained and Molly had already dried herself off and had the towel wrapped around her as she sat in the tub. “Here, Kendra. You do it,” Ms. Carrington offered.
Kendra went over and squatted down. Molly reluctantly put her arms around Kendra, who carefully picked her up, hoping she wouldn’t tumble out of her arms. Staying on her knees, Kendra managed to place Molly back in her chair.
“Good job!” Ms. Carrington cheered.
“She’s not as heavy as I thought she’d be,” said Kendra.
“Now I’ll show you how we exercise her legs.”
As Molly wheeled herself into her room, Ms. Carrington and Kendra followed. Molly went over to the chest of drawers, took out a nightgown and pulled it over herself, then went to the bed. Kendra watched as she half pulled, half rolled herself onto it.
Ms. Carrington said to Kendra, “Go around to the other side of the bed.”
Kendra did and watched Ms. Carrington as she lifted Molly’s right leg.
“First, move the hip joint.” She slowly pushed Molly’s leg toward her chest, then straightened it again, as Kendra carefully watched. “Now, move it in all directions. In a circle. Away from the body. Now, we do the knee… and then the ankle…”
After setting Molly’s leg down, Ms. Carrington said, “Okay, you try.”
Kendra did all the things she’d seen with the other leg as Ms. Carrington watched.
When she was finished, Ms. Carrington announced with a smile to Kendra, “That’s it. You’re done. Not so hard, is it?”
“No. A lot better than changing diapers,” Kendra grinned back.
Ms. Carrington leaned over and kissed Molly’s forehead, “Goodnight, dear.”
She went over to the light switch, turning it off, then as Kendra walked out of the room with her, she quietly closed the door and they went to the living room.
“Well, what do you think of the job? Is there any part of it that you’re uncomfortable with?”
“No, I can do this.”
“Oh, good. You don’t know how hard it is to find someone willing to do this kind of work. Can you come straight here after school tomorrow?”
“Sure.”
Ms. Carrington smiled, “Great! Well, I’ve taken up enough of your time.”
She walked Kendra to the front door. As she opened the door, she said, “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have someone here for her. Even though she’s standoffish now, she’ll get used to you, and then you’ll be the best of friends. Goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
*****
The next day at school between second and third period, Kendra was walking hand in hand with her boyfriend, Jason, on their way to algebra. Suddenly, she spotted Molly on the opposite side of the hall slowly wheeling herself towards them alongside the wall.
As Kendra watched, she saw that everyone else in the busy hallway was either talking to someone or walking together as a couple or a group, but Molly was alone. When her wheelchair approached someone at their locker, they would simply stand aside and wait for her to pass. With a dismal look on her face, the eleven-year-old slowly pushed her chair, marooned in her own world.
Her heart going out to the girl, Kendra stopped walking. “That’s the kid I’m gonna be taking care of,” she told Jason.
“Which one?”
“The one in the wheelchair.”
“The retard?”
Kendra shot a harsh look at him. “She’s not retarded!”
Crossing the hall, she offered a greeting. “Hi, Molly.”
Evidently caught off guard, Molly jerked her head toward the sound, an alarmed look on her face.
After a few seconds, Molly said aloud, “Hello?” her head moving back and forth, searching for some sign of the invisible voice.
“It’s me, Kendra. We met at your house yesterday.”
Not knowing how to respond, Molly simply said, “Oh, um, hi.”
“I just wanted to say hi.”
“Oh… okay.” The confidence and enthusiasm she had exhibited last night during their game of Sorry was completely gone here at school.
“Well, so, I’ll see you after school.”
Molly didn’t answer, just slightly nodded her head sadly as she continued on down the hall. Watching her go, Kendra had never seen a more pitiful person.
“I can’t stand idly by,” she mumbled to herself.
“What?”
She turned toward Jason, who had come up beside her. “I think I’ll eat lunch with her today and see her classroom.”
“Nothin’ doin’. We’re gonna hang out at the kicker steps,” Jason protested, then added hopefully, “Maybe we can go to the equipment room and you can show me that purty little body of yours.”
Suddenly filled with revulsion, Kendra scowled at him, “No! There’s other things in life besides hanging out at the kicker steps.”
Turning to look at the departing Molly, she said quietly, “I want to see what she’s like. What her world’s like.”
At lunchtime, after going through the line and getting some spaghetti and a roll, Kendra told her friends she had something else to do and would see them later. She knew that the special ed kids never ate lunch in the cafeteria, so she went to the special ed classroom. Though she had passed by it numerous times, she’d never gone inside.
Walking up to the door, she softly knocked. A few seconds later, a young man opened it. “Hi, can I help you?”
Momentarily at a loss for words, Kendra finally managed to find her voice, “Uh, my name’s Kendra. Molly’s mom hired me to watch her after school, and I was wondering if maybe I could have lunch with her?”
As she said this, it sounded stupid to her, but it was the truth and the only thing she could think of.
“Sure!” The young man surprised her by opening the door wide, inviting her to enter. “Please come in.”
Kendra stepped inside. Being the special ed room, she didn’t know what to expect so everything was a surprise.
Looking around, she saw five students, each at a computer and wearing headphones, and a woman hovering over one of them. She found Molly, but didn’t approach her right away. Molly was obviously concentrating on her computer tasks and Kendra didn’t want to interrupt what she was doing.
Three of the kids, including Molly, were in wheelchairs. One of them, a boy, flailed his arms about randomly. Looking at one of the girls in a wheelchair, Kendra saw that she seemed almost completely immobile, barely able to move her finger to push the large colored buttons in front of her.
Walking over to the board and examining the schedule, Kendra saw that lunch would start in a few minutes, so she put down her spaghetti and decided to wait. Speaking quietly so she wouldn’t disturb the students, she asked the man, whose name was Mark, “What are they doing now?”
“Taking a multiple choice test over what they’ve learned today. Later, me and Ms. Luedtke will look at the results to see if there’s anything they didn’t understand and that needs to be re-taught.”
Reviewing the schedule on the board — Art, Math, Community Outing, Lunch, Job Skills, Reading, Gym — Kendra asked, “What’s Community Outing?”
“We take them on field trips to different places to help them learn how to function in life. Today, we went to the HEB grocery store. They each were given a list of things to get and we helped them as needed.”
Seeing a blender on the counter, Kendra asked, “What’s the blender for?
“Two of our students can’t eat solid food, so we liquefy soft foods such as potatoes and bread in the blender. Then they can drink it instead of having to chew.”
“Shit,” Kendra mumbled sadly under her breath.
“I really appreciate you coming,” Mark said quietly. “It means a lot to them.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hardly anyone ever visits here or even talks to them in the hall. They’re ignored. Treated like pariahs. They’re not weird or stupid. They just need to do things a little differently. You don’t know how much it means for someone to show them that they care.”
As Kendra watched Molly in her wheelchair, her finger pressing a button on the computer every few seconds, she realized she’d stepped into another world that she never knew existed. One similar to hers, but so much different.
“Okay, lunchtime!” Ms. Luedtke announced cheerfully. The students took off their headphones and three of the students, including Molly, went to a set of cupboards and grabbed the lunches they had brought.
Kendra picked up her tray and went over to the table that Molly was heading toward. “Hi, Molly. It’s me, Kendra. Is it okay if I eat with you today?”
Molly didn’t say anything. Kendra could tell that she wasn’t being deliberately rude, but instead seemed nervous and uncertain.
“Hi, I’m Ms. Luedtke.”
Kendra turned around, “Oh, hi. Um, I’m Kendra. I was wondering if I could have lunch with Molly.”
“Molly?” Ms. Luedtke asked, “Would you like Kendra to eat with you?”
Molly didn’t speak or move for a few seconds, not even raising her head. Finally she just slightly shrugged her shoulders.
Ms. Luedtke sat down at the table and motioned for Kendra to sit also. The kids and Kendra began eating their lunches.
“How do you know Molly?” Ms. Luedtke asked.
“Her mom hired me to stay with her after school.”
“Ooh, that’s great. Molly is a real joy to be with, although…”
She looked at Molly who appeared to be sulking. “You’re being awfully quiet, Molly. Why don’t you tell Kendra about the project you finished yesterday.”
Molly pulled within herself even more. “Molly!” Ms. Luedtke reproached her. “You should be proud! You worked so hard on it!”
Turning back to Kendra, the woman said, “It’s a science report on animals. She did the research and typed it all up and it even has diagrams! It’s hanging up in the hallway. Would you like to see it?”
“Sure,” Kendra exclaimed happily.
“Come on! I’ll show you!”
Ms. Luedtke pushed her chair back, stood up and walked toward the door. Kendra followed her out into the hall. There on the wall along with other students’ projects was a large poster with several typed pages, diagrams, and the title, Zoology.
“She really got into this. Sometimes a student doesn’t want to do the work, or their spirit isn’t in it, but she really enjoyed this one. You see, she started with—”
“I can tell her about it myself. It’s my project.”
Kendra was surprised by Molly’s suddenly appearance, though Ms. Luedtke wasn’t. “Okay, Molly,” she smiled.
“First, I said what makes an animal an animal, then I put them into groups, then I say where they live and what they eat and…”
As Molly talked about her project, Ms. Luedtke quietly went back inside, smiling to herself. Kendra listened, fascinated, as Molly explained everything. When Molly had finished, Kendra told her, “That’s really good!”
“Do you honestly think so?”
“Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I?”
“It’s just that, well, other kids…” Molly’s voice faded.
Kendra knelt down. “I think it’s great. I really do.”
Molly gave a half-hearted smile. The bell rang.
“Oh, shoot,” said Kendra, “I gotta go to class. I’ll see you later, after school.”
She stood and started to wave to Molly, then realized what she was doing — but decided to wave anyway.
Continue on to Chapter 2
