Leslie watched Amy walk out of the barn, her eyes drawn to the tick of the girl’s backside in her tiny shorts. She wanted to chase after her, pull her back into her arms and kiss her, again. She could still feel the girl’s lips pressed against hers, could feel her body molded against her own. Her heart was racing, and her hands were shaking from what had just happened.
Then Amy was gone, and she was left to try to calm down. She had to shake her head because that girl had done a number on her. She hadn’t been kidding about being a horny mess all day.
“Jesus,” Leslie said, with a little laugh.
Taking a deep breath, Leslie started removing the saddles from Buttercup and Midnight. She tried to focus on the task at hand, but her thoughts kept returning to Amy. Luckily, she had done this enough times that she could do it on autopilot. Her mind was free to wander.
She could still see the girl standing there on the bank of the stream, wearing nothing but a smile. Amy had looked so confident and sexy, beautiful glistening wet in the afternoon sun. It had taken all of Leslie’s self-control not to jump off the horse and go to her when she pulled that stunt with her panties, offering to take them off, again.
“She really should be ashamed of herself,” Leslie said out loud, shaking her head. Changing her mind, Leslie thought, Or maybe, I’m the one who should be ashamed that it worked so well.
Since Amy’s parents dropped her off at the ranch in early June, the girl has been flirting with Leslie. The first couple of times, Leslie thought she was just imagining it, thought she was misreading the girl’s innocent comments. When Amy kept doing it, Leslie thought the girl was having fun with her, had found Leslie was a lesbian somehow. When Leslie realized Amy was serious, she had been amused. Maybe a little flattered, too. Amy was becoming a beautiful young woman, and it made Leslie smile that she might be interested in a dusty ranch hand like herself.
Maybe that was why she flirted back a little- nothing too serious, just playful like. It had started out as a joke, but the more she flirted with Amy, the more she started to mean it. It didn’t help that Amy always wore these little short shorts that showed off her long legs and clung to her round backside. Then there was the little white dress, the one she had asked Amy to wear tonight. That dress didn’t belong on a ranch like this. Leslie was pretty sure Amy wore it only to get her attention. She was a little ashamed to admit that it worked, that her eyes were drawn to the girl every time she wore it.
Shaking her head, Leslie pulled the saddle off of Buttercup’s back, hanging it on its post. Rubbing the horse’s neck, she said, “I’m being stupid, right? Meeting her tonight?”
She really didn’t expect the horse to answer, so she wasn’t disappointed when Buttercup didn’t offer her any advice. Besides, she knew the answer to her own question. Of course, it was a stupid idea. Amy was only thirteen- precocious and maybe not so innocent, but still only thirteen. The fact that it was Amy’s idea didn’t make it any less wrong.
“But, God… She looked so beautiful standing on the creek bank,” Amy said, still talking to Buttercup, “if you had seen her… Then the kiss… She is a great kisser. Better than she has any right to be.”
Leslie thought about the look on Amy’s face when she had asked ‘What would a girl your age know about such things?’. The girl did know something, Leslie thought. To the horse, she said, “I don’t think it would be her first time, tonight.”
Snorting, she said, “Or even her first time today.”
As she had approached the swimming hole, she had heard moans and little excited sounds. Leslie had expected to find a couple of local high school kids in the stream fooling around. She had been a little surprised to see Amy by herself, instead. Her surprise had turned to amusement when she realized what the girl had been doing.
Nothing I haven’t done at the swimming hole before, Leslie thought, smiling. There was something about swimming naked that was a little dangerous, therefore exciting. Masturbating out in the open was even more dangerous and all the more thrilling. It was part of its appeal.
Still smiling, Leslie found her reminiscing on all the crazy times she had had in that swimming hole. She hadn’t been kidding when she told Amy she had been a little wild when she was younger. If that swimming hole could talk, the stories it could tell about her.
The barn, too, Leslie thought, her smile widening. The hayloft had been her favorite place to take any girl she could convince to sleep with her. She still couldn’t smell the scent of hay and not get a little horny.
Leslie did a quick walk through the stables, making sure everything was secure. She has been a little distracted all afternoon- Amy the bane of her concentration- so she wanted to double check before calling it a day. Satisfied, she said goodbye to the horses, then left the stables.
Walking up the well-worn path to the caretaker’s cottage, Leslie smiled. She loved this old house, the place she had grown up in. Even after going off to college and spending five years in the city, this single story flop was still home.
It was her home now, her mom and dad moving into an apartment in town. When her dad had fallen ill last year, Leslie had taken a sabbatical from her job to help look after him and tend the ranch until he got back on his feet. He had recovered, but he wasn’t the ox he used to be. Trying to keep up with the day to day struggles of keeping a farm running wore him down. When the term of Leslie’s leave of absence ended, she resigned and stayed on as the caretaker in his place. Her father had fussed about her quitting her job, about the money she would be losing. She had just smiled and told him that she had been miserable at her job anyway. Staying here had been the easiest decision she had ever made.
She loved the ranch, even the less than pleasant jobs that went with her position as caretaker. She got more pleasure out of mucking stalls than she ever did running the numbers at the stockbroker office she worked at after college, which said a lot about how much she had hated her old job. She didn’t make nearly as much money these days, but money wasn’t everything.
Opening the screen door, Leslie stepped onto her porch. It was her porch, her name on the deed. Tim and Ellen had long ago sold the house to her dad for the price of a case of beer. Tim had said her dad had more than earned it and the two of them had drunk the beer together on the very porch she stood on now. They had sat up half the night, telling stories and laughing.
When her dad had swallowed his pride and admitted he wasn’t up to being the caretaker anymore, he had sold the house to Leslie for a case of beer. They had sat on the porch swing, and he had gotten a little teary as he passed the family business down to Leslie. He blamed the alcohol messing with his medication, but Leslie knew he was just proud of her.
Looking around the porch, Leslie hoped she’d get the chance to continue the tradition and drink a beer with whoever gets this place after her.
She stepped into the house and went to the fridge. She grabbed a beer, then sat down at the kitchen table. Pulling her laptop in front of her, she opened it and booted it up. While it warmed up, she popped the top on her beer and took a long pull. It went down easy after a long day in the sun. She drank half of it before the Dell logo left her screen.
When the laptop was ready, she checked how her stocks were doing. She might have quite the business, but she still maintained her own portfolio. A quick check and she saw everything was in order. Closing her laptop, she smiled. Five minutes, not eight-nine-ten hours of looking at a computer screen and talking on a phone until her eyes crossed and her head throbbed. She could do five minutes, but she’d never go back to being a stockbroker.
Actually, she did still have one customer- her mom and dad. She had helped them fund their retirement, had set them up to never have to work another day unless they got bored at the apartment. Her dad was already getting stir crazy, so that was a real possibility.
Grinning, Leslie thought she might hire him on part-time. He loved this place, loved the work. Working on the ranch had never really been a job for her dad.
I guess I take after him, there, Leslie thought, taking a pull of her beer. She loved this place as much as he had.
Leslie got up and got the leftover vegetable soup she had made yesterday out of the fridge. Throwing a bowl in the microwave, she leaned against the sink while it heated up. When the timer went off, Leslie hot fingered the bowl to the table and ate with gusto. She sighed happily as it hit the spot. Sitting back, she washed everything down with the last of her beer.
The dead soldier went in the trash. Grabbing another beer, she headed down the hall to her old bedroom. The house was hers now, but she still couldn’t get used to the idea of using the master bedroom. It still felt like her mom and dad’s room.
In her room, she kicked off her boots. She wriggled her way out of her sweaty clothes, dumping them in the hamper. With her beer in hand, she walked naked into the bathroom. Drawing the shower curtain back, she put the stopper in the bottom of the tub. After a day of hard work, a bath sounded more appealing than just a shower. As water began to fill the tub, Leslie popped the top on her beer and took a long pull.
When the water was ready, she stepped into the hot bath. Sighing, she let the heat soak into her tired muscles. She closed her eyes, let the struggles of the day drift away on the steam. After a while, she opened her eyes and took another sip of her beer. Setting the bottle on the side of the tub, she reached for a bar of soap. It smelled like lilac, and she used it to wash the smell of the farm off of her.
Running her hands over her legs, she felt the stubble of almost two weeks without shaving. As she reached for her razor, she had to shake her head. If not for Amy, she would have put it off for another day. She hadn’t been lying when she told the girl she hasn’t needed to beat any would-be suitors off with a stick lately. Shaving her legs had seemed like a wasted effort if there was no one to touch them.
“There will be someone to touch them tonight,” Leslie thought, smiling.
As she passed the razor over her calf, she wondered if her recent dry spell had anything to do with her meeting Amy tonight. Would Amy’s little stunt have worked as well if it hadn’t been months since she had gotten laid? Thinking about Amy’s naked young body glistening wet in the summer sun, Leslie thought it probably would have. She couldn’t imagine a life of such hedonistic bliss, that Amy wouldn’t have inspired lustful thoughts.
Leslie found herself wondering what tonight was going to be like. Amy was young, but Leslie thought not completely inexperienced. There had been something in the girl’s eyes when Leslie had teased her about knowing about sex. Her heart beating faster, Leslie wondered what Amy knew.
“She knows how to kiss,” Leslie said, then blinked when she realized she had spoken aloud. With a sheepish grin, she added, “She is a nice kisser.”
She wondered how long they had stood in each other’s arms, kissing. Time had gotten a little funny, so it could have been seconds or hours before she came to her senses. It was just lucky no one had caught them like that. Leslie smiled, trying to remember the last time she lost herself so wholly in a kiss.
Probably not since I was Amy’s age, Leslie thought, her smile widening.
“Isabella,” Leslie said, quietly. Just saying the girl’s name took her back…
...Close your eyes.”
Leslie looked at her friend dubiously, said, “Why?”
They were at the stream, their favorite spot on hot summer days like this. On the bank were two neat little piles of clothing and they hadn’t brought their bikinis. They never did.
“You don’t trust me?” Isabella asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“Not when you are smiling like that,” Leslie said, splashing the girl.
“I always smile like this,” Isabella said, splashing her back.
“No, you don’t. This is your up to something smile,” Leslie said, giving her a look, “I’m just not sure what you are up to.”
“Just close your eyes,” Isabella said.
Leslie just looked at her a long moment, then closed her eyes, and said, “I’m going to regret this.”
“You won’t, I promise,” Isabella said, her voice a little funny.
In her personal darkness, Leslie waited for Isabella to do whatever tomfoolery she was about to do. She was a little surprised when Isabella put her arms around her and kissed her. When she tried to gasp, Isabella’s tongue slipped into her mouth.
Her eyes sprang open, and she pushed her friend away. Gaping at Isabella, she asked, “What are you doing?”
“Kissing you,” Isabella said, with a playful grin.
“I got that when you stuck your tongue in my mouth,” Leslie said, making a face, “you are wrong for that.”
“Then why did you kiss me back?” Isabella teased.
“I didn’t kiss you,” Leslie said, splashing the girl.
“Was it so horrible, then?” Isabella asked.
Leslie looked at her friend for a moment, wondering about the tone she picked up in her voice. She wasn’t sure Isabella was still playing anymore. Frowning, she asked, “What is this all about?”
“Nothing,” Isabella said, with a forced laugh, “I was just playing.”
“Issy?” Leslie asked, her frown deepening.
Isabella looked at her a moment, then said, “I’m sorry I kissed you.”
Leslie rolled her eyes, said, “You don’t sound sorry.”
“I mean I’m sorry I kissed you without asking you first,” Isabella said.
“But you aren’t sorry you kissed me?” Leslie asked, giving her friend a curious look.
“No,” Isabella said, with a shy smile.
“Huh,” Leslie said, a little confused by the turn of events.
“Was it that bad?” Isabella asked.
“Bad?” Leslie repeated, then laughed, “I don’t know. I guess unexpected would be a better word.”
“Do you think it would be better if you knew it was coming?” Isabella asked.
“You aren’t planning on kissing me again, if I say yes, are you?” Leslie asked.
“Thinking about it,” Isabella said, grinning.
“You are weird,” Leslie said, then frowned, “why are you thinking about it?”
“I don’t know,” Isabella said, shrugging, “I’ve always thought you were pretty.”
Blinking in surprise, Leslie said, “You have?”
“I tell you you are pretty all the time,” Isabella said, matter-of-factly.
“Okay, but I thought you meant…” Leslie said, saw her friend’s embarrassed smile, “Oh.”
“You are very pretty,” Isabella said, then laughed, “a horrible kisser, though.”
“I am not a horrible kisser,” Leslie said, giving her a dirty look.
“If you say so,” Isabella teased.
“You can’t ambush kiss someone and expect them to bring their A game,” Leslie said.
“Okay, okay,” Isabella said, holding up her hand, “I’m sorry I called you a horrible kisser.”
Leslie glared at her, then said, “Fine. One more kiss.”
“Really?” Isabella said, amused.
“Just kiss me,” Leslie said, moving closer to her friend.
Isabella shrugged and kissed Leslie. Ready this time, Leslie kissed her friend back. She closed her eyes and parted her lips, teased Isabella’s tongue into her mouth with her own. Leslie just intended to prove that she wasn’t a bad kisser, but she found herself kissing Isabella for real.
After a while, she pulled back and husked, “See? I’m not a horrible kisser.”
With a playful smile, Isabella said, “I don’t know… Maybe just one more kiss to be sure?”
Laughing, Leslie said, “Just to be sure, huh?”
“Would it be so bad? Kissing, again?” Isabella asked.
“Well…” Leslie said, meeting her friend’s eyes, “I guess not.”
When Isabella leaned into her, Leslie kissed her friend, again. Like last time, the kiss deepened quickly. Time got a little fuzzy around the edges, and she wasn’t sure how long they stood like that. She might never have come to her senses if she hadn’t felt Isabella’s hand on her breast.
Laughing, she said, “What are you doing?”
“Getting to second base,” Isabella said.
“You said another kiss. You didn’t say anything about second base,” Leslie said, looking pointedly at Isabella’s hand on her breast.
“I was thinking we could go to the bank and fool around,” Isabella said, letting the hand slip from Leslie’s breast, down Leslie’s flank to come to rest on her hip.
“Why would you think that?” Leslie asked, meeting her friend’s eyes.
“I don’t know,” Isabella said, a little embarrassed, “I liked kissing you.”
“Jesus, Issy,” Leslie said, laughing and shaking her head.
“You didn’t like it?” Isabella asked.
Leslie started to say no, but she realized that would be a lie. Instead, she said, “Fine. I liked kissing you, too, but that doesn’t mean I want to ‘fool around’.”
“Are you sure?” Isabella asked, grinning playfully, “you didn’t think you’d like kissing me until you tried it, either.”
“Is that your big pitch?” Leslie asked, laughing.
“I could call you a horrible lay if it’ll help,” Isabella teased.
“Wow,” Leslie said, shaking her head. Meeting her friend’s eyes, she saw the girl was serious. Shaking her head again, she asked, “Where is all of this coming from?”
“You’ve never thought about it?” Isabella asked, surprised.
“No,” Leslie said, truthfully.
“I think it would be fun,” Isabella said, then with red cheeks, “it would have to be you, though.”
“Me?” Leslie asked, her eyes widening.
“You’re my best friend,” Isabella said, meeting Leslie’s eyes, “It wouldn’t be as fun with anyone else.”
“Jesus, Issy,” Leslie said, shaking her head. Her friend looked uncomfortable, and Leslie realized a couple of things, namely Isabella must really want to do this because she was clearly embarrassed and nervous about suggesting it. If Isabella didn’t really, really want to try this, she wouldn’t put herself in this situation. Still shaking her head, Leslie said, “On a scale of one to ten?”
Isabella grinned, said, “Eight and a half.”
Leslie groaned. It was a something they did, rating the importance of a thing on a scale from one to ten, with a ten being life and death. An eight and a half was very important, required immediate attention.
“Okay,” Leslie said, not believing she was going to do this.
“Really?” Isabella asked.
“It’s an eight and a half,” Leslie said, then laughed, “let’s go make out.”
“It’s going to be fun,” Isabella said, grabbing her hand, “you’ll see.”
Following her friend out of the stream, Leslie said, “This stays between us, right?”
“I can’t brag at school?” Isabella asked, laughing, “tell everyone about the hot chick I hooked up with?”
“Issy,” Leslie said, her tone making her friend stop.
Turning around, Isabella met her eyes and said, “I promise.”
Satisfied, Leslie let Isabella lead her to their towels spread out on the bank. She was surprised when Isabella turned into her arms, her arms going around Leslie’s neck. Isabella favored her with a smile that was part playful and part shy, her eyes bright with excitement. Maybe it was that smile or the look in her friend’s eyes or just the closeness of their bodies, but Leslie’s heart started beating faster. Isabella’s excitement was infectious, and Leslie found herself thinking maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Maybe Isabella saw that realization pass across Leslie’s face, because her smile turned up even more and she kissed Leslie. Isabella teased Leslie’s tongue into her mouth, caressed it with her own. Leslie kissed her back without reserve. Making out hadn’t been her idea, but she believed that friendship was all or nothing. If this was something Isabella needed to try, then Leslie would support her a hundred percent. In this case, that meant being actively and enthusiastically involved.
Luckily, kissing Isabella was far from unpleasant. The caress of Isabella’s tongue drew her deeper and deeper into the kiss. Like it had in the stream, time got a little funny. She had no idea how long they stood in each other’s arms, kissing.
Finally, Isabella pulled back and, with a little giggle, said, “You definitely aren’t a horrible kisser.”
“Told you,” Leslie husked, trying to catch her breath.
Laughing, Isabella kissed her one more time, then slipped out of her arms. Isabella stretched out on her side on her towel, patted the empty spot next to her. Leslie took a deep breath, then joined her friend on the towel. Isabella put her hand on Leslie’s hip, pulled her even closer. Suddenly, there was no space between them, their bodies molded together. Then they were kissing, again.
Leslie gasped as Isabella’s hand slid up her flank to cup her breast. Giggling nervously, she broke the kiss and looked at the hand on her breast. Isabella met her eyes, raising her eyebrows questioningly. Taking a deep breath, Leslie shook her head, giving her friend permission not to stop. Grinning, Isabella gently kneaded Leslie’s breast. A startled moan escaped Leslie as her stiffened nipple drug across her friend’s palm. A delicious shiver worked up her spine, and Leslie’s eyes widened as her body started responding to Isabella’s touch. Her nipple ached sweetly, and a pleasant warmth spread across her body.
When Isabella’s hand slipped up to her shoulder and gently pushed, Leslie rolled onto her back. Looking up at her friend expectantly, she wondered what Isabella had in mind for her next. Isabella put her hand on Leslie’s stomach, let it glide up over taut muscles to cup her breast, again. Leslie bit her lip but couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her. The girl’s hand had her body confused, thinking it was time to play. Leslie was surprised by how much she was responding to Isabella’s caresses.
Isabella leaned in and kissed Leslie. Just one kiss, then Isabella pressed her lips to the curve of Leslie’s neck, then her collarbone. Leslie inhaled sharply as Isabella kissed the slope of her breast. A nervous giggle escaped her as Isabella’s lips found her straining nipple. The giggle became a gasp as the girl gently sucked on the nub, sending shivers of pleasure through her body.
“God, this is so weird,” Leslie said, shaking her head. She moaned as Isabella’s hot tongue teased her sensitive nipple. Weird or not, she couldn’t deny that it felt really good.
Distracted by what Isabella was doing with her mouth, Leslie didn’t notice that the girl’s hand had slipped from her breast and was sliding down her stomach. It wasn’t until Isabella’s fingers moved over the faint patch of blonde pubic hair and between her thighs that Leslie gasped in surprise. She squeezed her thighs shut in a knee-jerk reaction, but it was too late. All she did was trap Isabella’s hand against her girlhood. Isabella’s fingers massaged her bud, startling another gasp from Leslie. She opened her legs to release Isabella’s hand, but the fingers didn’t stop their delicious circles.
With a nervous laugh, Leslie said, “Jesus, Isabella!”
Isabella just grinned at her, then kissed her deeply. Her fingers never stopped moving, and Leslie found herself dizzy with a need she didn’t know she could have. She had done this to herself before, but her body didn’t seem to understand this wasn’t her fingers. It didn’t seem to care that it was Isabella’s hand and not her own and her hips pushed her pussy against Isabella’s hand eagerly.
The pleasure made her thoughts a little fuzzy, and she was having trouble remembering she wasn’t supposed to like this. Letting another girl do this to her was supposed to be wrong, but her body was arguing with her mind. As a moan slipped past her slack mouth, Leslie thought her body was making a pretty good case for why what was happening to her was not just a good thing, but a right thing.
Wrong or not, Leslie didn’t think she could stop Isabella if she had to. She definitely didn’t want to, the girl’s hand sending pleasure coursing through her young body. Her eyes closed and she surrendered to what was happening to her, basked in the lovely sensations.
Isabella’s hand was removed from her girlhood, and Leslie opened her eyes to see what had happened. They widened as she saw the girl had moved while she had had them closed, was now kneeling between Leslie’s legs. Isabella leaned forward, and suddenly her mouth was on Leslie’s bud, the hot caress of her tongue drawing a gasp from Leslie. Leslie gaped at her friend.
“What are you doing?!” Leslie asked, propping up on her elbows.
“Going down on you,” Isabella said, excitement making her voice a little shaky.
Leslie bit her lip as the girl’s mouth returned to her bud. She couldn’t believe Isabella was doing this to her, but she didn’t want to tell the girl to stop. This was so wrong, but that was what made it so exciting. Leslie’s heart was knocking around her ribcage like a crazed animal as she watched her best friend run her tongue across her bud. That hot, wet caress had her hips moving, again, and her fingers clutched at the beach towel underneath her.
Leslie was pretty sure she was supposed to tell Isabella to stop, but all that came out of her mouth was another moan. The truth was, she hadn’t wanted to like this, but she did. Isabella had been right- she was enjoying this, just like she had enjoyed kissing her. She was glad Isabella had pushed her into trying this.
Her eyes closing again, Leslie let herself drift on the waves of pleasure Isabella’s tongue was sending through her. She wondered how Isabella knew how to do this, then decided she didn’t care. The girl’s talented tongue made it hard to focus on anything other than the lovely sensations washing through her.
Maybe she’d ask the girl later.
As tension began to creep into her body, Leslie’s heart was racing. With an orgasm gathering steam inside of her, she thought if she came like this, she would be broken forever. Isabella had already knocked the supports from underneath her, had her teetering on the edge of a monumental change of perception. If Isabella brought her to a climax, she might never be the same. Her life had been a nice straight line so far, but she felt like she had come to a split in the road.
The orgasm had her before she had time to finish that thought. She cried out as she climaxed hard, her whole body jerking like she was being shocked. That explosion of pleasure tore through her, shook her to pieces. In its aftermath, she tried to catch her breath and get her toes to uncurl. The feel-good juices were flowing, and she was a jumble of happy nerve endings.
Isabella’s face appeared above her, grinning down at her. The girl’s cheeks were red and wet from Leslie’s thrashings. A little embarrassed, Leslie reached up and wiped the girl’s mouth, then pulled her down for a kiss.
Kissing Isabella, Leslie realized she was taking her first steps down this new path she was on. She didn’t know where it would lead, but she thought she could walk it for a while. Isabella had given her a peek at where it might end up, and Leslie was a little surprised that she was interested in that destination.
Pulling back from this kiss, Isabella favored her with a playful, knowing smile, said, “I told you you would have fun.”
Laughing, Leslie said, “I still can’t believe we are doing this. I can’t believe you did that to me.”
“I’m just glad you let me,” Isabella said, kissing her.
“You are so weird,” Leslie said, shaking her head.
“I’m weird, huh?” Isabella said, meeting Leslie’s eyes, “I don’t remember hearing you say to stop.”
“Well…” Leslie said, blushing, “I guess I’m weird, too.”
Isabella laughed, “Yeah, you are. You liked when I was licking your pussy.”
Snorting in surprise, Leslie laughed, “Jesus, Issy!”
“Don’t try to deny it,” Isabella said, stealing a kiss.
Isabella was looking at her expectantly, and Leslie thought she knew what the girl wanted. With a nervous little laugh, she said, “Fine. I liked it.”
“Told you,” Isabella said, grinning.
Laughing, Leslie said, “Yeah, I guess you did.”
Isabella rolled off of Leslie, stretching out next to her on her back. Propping up on one elbow, Leslie looked at her friend. Hardly a day went by when Leslie didn’t see Isabella, but she felt like she was looking at the girl for the first time. In a way, she was, because she wasn’t looking at her as a friend, but something else. Maybe something more.
Isabella’s mother was Brazilian and her dad Italian, and she tended to get a warm shade of brown in the summer sun. Leslie has always been a little jealous of her swarthy complexion, thought she had beautiful skin. Isabella was a dancer, and she had the lithe and lean figure that came with it- long in the leg and narrow in the hip, with a flat belly and small breasts. Leslie kind of liked her willowy frame, found her easy to look at.
Feeling Isabella looking at her, Leslie met her eyes. She saw the questioning look Isabella was giving her and she blushed. With a self-conscious little laugh, she said, “I think you have beautiful skin.”
Isabella gave her a warm smile, said, “You do?”
“I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that or not,” Leslie said, with a little shrug.
“Why are you telling me now?” Isabella asked, her eyes not letting Leslie look away.
With a deep breath, Leslie said, “When you said I was pretty… I’ve never looked at you… you know, like that.”
“Okay?” Isabella said, looking at her expectantly.
“I think you are pretty,” Leslie said.
Smiling, Isabella said, “You’ve told me that before.”
“I know,” Leslie said, with a sheepish smile, “it means something different now.”
“Yeah?” Isabella asked, sitting up.
“Yeah,” Leslie said, with a nervous laugh, “which is a bit of a shock for me.”
“You were always a little slow catching on,” Isabella said, playfully.
“Hey,” Leslie said, laughing at her own expense.
Isabella leaned in and kissed her, and there was a little heat behind the kiss. Her heart racing, Leslie realized their fooling around had been very lopsided so far, Isabella only on the giving end. As she kissed the girl, she wondered if she could do to Isabella what she had done to her. Going down on another girl seemed so taboo, naughty.
Then again, this was Isabella. If there was someone she trusted enough to do such a thing with, it was this girl. Hell, they had already crossed the line a while ago, when they were kissing in the stream. What was a few more steps on the path she had already started down?
Summoning her courage, she ran her hand up Isabella’s flank to cup her breast. Her friend gasped and pulled away from the kiss to look at Leslie’s hand on her breast. She looked up and gave Leslie a curious smile, asked, “What are you doing?”
“I don’t know,” Leslie said, with a nervous laugh.
Isabella looked at her a long moment, then asked, “Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” Leslie said, taking a deep breath, “you might have to help me, though.”
“Okay,” Isabella said, smiling warmly at her. She gave Leslie one more toe-curling kiss, then stretched out on her back. She smiled up at Leslie.
Taking a deep breath, Leslie leaned in and kissed the girl. Summoning her courage, she moved lower, pressing her lips to Isabella’s neck. Up close, the girl smelled like the stream and Leslie could taste the salt of her sweat in the summer sun on her skin. Neither sensation was unpleasant, which made her next kiss easier. She had to bite back a nervous giggle as she kissed the slope of Isabella’s breast. Isabella’s skin was warm and smooth under her lips, very kissable.
Isabella’s nipples stiffened as Leslie ran her tongue around its areola and the girl sighed. The sigh became a moan as Leslie continued to tease the straining nub with her lips. Isabella’s hand was suddenly on the back of Leslie’s head, holding her to her breast.
“Meu Deus,” Isabella said, around a moan.
Isabella knew how to speak Portuguese, learned it from her grandmother. She rarely spoke it outside of the family. The only time Leslie ever heard her utter a word of Portuguese was when she was really excited.
Must be doing something right, Leslie thought, her heart beating faster.
She listened to the soft moans and sighs escaping from Isabella’s slack mouth, found encouragement in them. She kind of liked being the reason for those little sounds of enjoyment coming from her friend. There was something very intoxicating about making Isabella feel good, and Leslie found she didn’t want to stop.
Leslie moved lower, kissing her way down Isabella’s taut stomach. She smiled as her friend’s breathing got a little funny the further down she went. The girl was barely breathing by the time Leslie reached the parts of her body a bikini bottom would have covered. At least, Leslie thought a swimsuit bottom would have covered. Neither one of them had any tan lines for reference. There was no break in the warm brown skin from Isabella’s stomach to her thighs, except a thatch of black hair just coming in above the swell of her girlhood. Even the soft folds of her labia were the same rich caramel color.
When Leslie ran out of stomach, she gently pushed her friend’s legs open wide and moved between them. Isabella was holding her breath as she looked up at Leslie expectantly. That look in Isabella’s eyes made it easy for Leslie to follow through with what she had started. Without any hesitation, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to Isabella’s bud, tasted the salty sweat on her skin. The pent-up air in Isabella’s lungs rushed out of her in what Leslie was pretty sure was a Portuguese swear word.
Rolling her eyes up, she looked at Isabella, smiled when she saw her face screw up in pleasure. She was going to ask if she was doing it right, but the look of bliss on her friend’s face was answer enough. Watching Isabella’s reaction, Leslie tried a few different things until she found just what the girl wanted. She knew she had found it when Isabella’s back arched off the towel, her fingers digging into the small rocks that made up the stream bank. Leslie kept it up until Isabella lost control of her body. The caress of her tongue had Isabella writhing in ecstasy before long. Her cheeks were soon wet from her thrashing.
I guess we are even, Leslie thought, remembering Isabella’s wet cheeks, or, we are about to be.
Leslie picked up a new urgency in Isabella’s cries of pleasure, saw the girl’s stomach tightening and tightening. Her eyes wide, Leslie thought Isabella was going to climax. It wasn’t easy to keep her mouth to the girl’s bucking body, but she managed to bring her right to the edge of ecstasy. With one more cry, Isabella lost herself to the pleasure exploding through her, her whole body shaking with it.
Isabella gave Leslie a sated, slightly surprised smile, asked, “Why are you so good at that?”
“Am I?” Leslie asked, sitting back on her haunches.
“Yeah,” Isabella said, sighing happily. She sat up and gave Leslie a kiss, then a hug. In Leslie’s ear, she whispered, “Thank you.”
“For the orgasm?” Leslie asked.
Isabella laughed, said, “Well, for that, too. I mean for doing this with me.”
“You said it was an eight and a half,” Leslie said, pulling back to smile at her.
“I guess I did,” Isabella said, meeting Leslie’s eyes.
“Um, thanks for talking me into it,” Leslie said.
“Really?” Isabella asked, hopefully.
A little sheepishly, Leslie said, “Yeah.”
With a playful smile, Isabella asked, “Do you think I could talk you into it, again?”
“You could probably twist my arm,” Leslie said, with a playful smile of her own….
…Leslie was smiling now, thinking about the irony of her first time. It had been Isabella’s idea, but it was Leslie’s life that had changed forever. Pretty much from that day forward, Leslie was a lesbian, but Isabella ended up getting married to the captain of the football team and having three kids. Leslie was the maid of honor at her wedding.
She remembered losing track of time when Isabella kissed her, but, in all the years since, she couldn’t think of another instance of losing herself so completely in a kiss. Not, until kissing Amy earlier. Leslie paused with the razor on her thigh, trying to find a correlation between the two girls. Isabella had been the same age as Amy, but that was about the extent of their similarities.
Shrugging, Leslie started shaving again, said out loud, “They are both hot.”
She figured she should be ashamed, but she really did think Amy was attractive. She had wanted to deny it at first, but the girl had made it impossible to lie to herself anymore. The flirting, those little shorts… Leslie couldn’t resist the girl anymore. The stunt at the stream might have sped things along, but her resolve had been weakening all summer.
Shaking her head at herself, Leslie finished shaving her legs, then the rest of her bath. Getting out of the tub, she dried off, then wrapped the towel around her naked body. She stepped in front of the sink, looking at her reflection in the mirror above it. Running her fingers through her damp hair, she thought about doing something with it. Leslie thought about Amy in her little white dress and decided tonight called for more than jeans and a baseball cap, her usual attire since taking over as caretaker. She plugged her curling iron into the wall, then looked at the little makeup kit on the counter. There was a fine layer of dust on the black plastic box, and she shook her head.
“I need to get out more,” Leslie told her reflection.
Shaking her head, again, Leslie started applying her makeup as the curling iron heated up. Eyeliner, mascara, lipstick… Leslie realized she was getting dressed up for Amy. She had been doing it really without thinking. Looking at her reflection, she had to smile. She really was trying to look her best for a thirteen-year-old.
“What if I am?” Leslie asked, her reflection.
Her reflection didn’t have an argument for her, so she went back to applying her makeup. Part of her wondered if Amy would be doing the same, getting all dolled up for her. The girl already made her heart beat a little faster. What would she look like if she came to the barn tonight dressed to the nines? In her white dress and wearing makeup, her hair styled?
Suddenly, Leslie’s hand was a little shaky, and she had to take a deep breath before reaching for her curling iron. She had to take her time styling her hair, her focus not where it needed to be. Still, by the time she unplugged the iron and set it aside to cool, she had to smile at her reflection. The tomboy caretaker was taking the night off.
Leslie left the towel hanging in the bathroom, walked into her bedroom naked. Opening the top drawer of her dresser, Amy poked through her practical cotton panties in search of something a bit sexier. She found a strapless black lace bralette and matching thong, tossing them toward the bed. She was about to close the drawer when she spotted a black lace garter belt. Smiling, she fished it out, and it joined the panties and bra on the bed. The last thing she grabbed before closing the drawer were a pair of nylon stockings.
Turning to the bed, Leslie started slipping into the lingerie. Everything was sheer and skimpy, definitely not something she should wear for a thirteen-year-old girl. Leslie smiled, thinking Amy wouldn’t be upset to see her in such scandalous attire.
Hopefully surprised, but not upset, Leslie thought.
Snapping the last garter into place, Leslie stepped in front of her mirror and admired her reflection. Wearing lingerie always made her feel sexy and today was no different. Her legs sheathed in black nylon, the string of the thong between her pale buttocks, her breasts lifted high by the push-up bra… A naughty thrill worked through her, dressing like this.
Leslie opened her closet door, poking through its contents. The majority of her wardrobe was functional rather than dressy, but she found her favorite little black dress in the back. It was her going out and getting in trouble dress. She pulled it out of the closet, held it up to look at. It was really short, falling nowhere near her knees. Cut low in the front to reveal a lot of cleavage, it was meant to get someone’s attention.
Smiling, Leslie thought, This is my answer to Amy’s white dress. Let’s see how she likes having her little game turned on her.
Leslie slipped into the dress, careful not to mess up her hair or her makeup. Stepping in front of the mirror, again, she checked her reflection. Her smile widened, and she was happy she could still wear the dress. Not just fit into but actually wear it like its designer wanted it to be worn.
“Maybe I would need my stick, if I wore this more often,” Leslie told her reflection, thinking about what Amy had said while they were on the trail earlier. The line about needing to beat them off with a stick had made her smile, pleased her more than she liked to admit.
Dressed except for a pair of shoes, Leslie glanced at her alarm clock. Groaning, she realized it was still two hours until dark and probably four until she would head to the barn. What was she supposed to do for four hours?
Suddenly laughing, she thought about what Amy had said about waiting for tonight, that it would be forever in teenager years. Still looking at the clock, Leslie sighed and thought, Not just in teenager years.