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Message-ID: <51063asstr$1114924201@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Al Steiner" <do_not_resuscitate_ever@yahoo.com>
Subject: {ASSM} NEW: Sleeping Over by Al Steiner (fff, first) 1/1
Lines: 1867
Date: Sun,  1 May 2005 01:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Sleeping Over

By Al Steiner



Samantha Spring was immediately suspicious when the two senior girls walked 
over to her table in the Oakview High School cafeteria.  She was only a 
junior, and a junior most of the other girls shunned as a matter of course. 
She always had the table to herself while she ate whatever semi-palatable 
slop the cafeteria happened to be serving.  To have any other girls approach 
her was unheard of in its own right, but these two were not just any girls. 
They were Mignon Benning and Alexandria Mason, arguably the two most 
beautiful and popular girls in the entire school.  They were part of the 
upper echelon, the high school elite.  They normally didn't eat their lunch 
in the cafeteria at all, but out on the quad with the other elite.



"Hey, Samantha," Mignon said cheerfully, as if Samantha was one of her 
closest friends and confidents.  "Can we sit here?"



Samantha hesitated, searching their faces for what the joke was.  Mignon was 
the head cheerleader and vice president of the student council.  A buxom 
blonde with a petite frame just made for wearing a short skirt imprinted 
with school colors, she radiated an air of smug superiority.  Alexandria - 
who shunned the natural nickname of Alex - was her trusty sidekick.  She was 
an equally beautiful brunette with small, aristocratic breasts and the sort 
of legs men dreamed about at night.



"Well?" Mignon chirped, raising her eyebrows.



"Why do you want to sit here?" Samantha asked warily.



"Because no one else is," she told her.  "We're just being friendly.  Is it 
a problem?  We can go somewhere else if you want."



"Yeah, Samantha," Alexandria put in just as cheerfully.  "It's no big or 
nothin'.  We just thought we'd come over and say hi."



Samantha didn't trust them.  Their reputations as hazers of underclassmen 
and derisive teasers of any girl or guy less popular then they preceded them 
by years.  They were the ringleaders of the gossip groups that spread any 
and all rumors about pretty much anyone outside their little circle of 
elite.  They were the organizers of the targeted blacklisting of any girl 
who didn't meet with their favor.  They were also the driving force behind 
the rumors that had been circulating about Samantha herself since early in 
her freshman year - perhaps the vilest of rumors in a high school society, 
vile enough to make her a social outcast among even the nerds and the 
stoners.  The word being passed - primarily by these two cheerleaders - was 
that Samantha was a lesbian, although that was of course not the terminology 
they typically used.  It was reported she was often seen staring at other 
girls in the locker room, that she had tried to seduce several girls, and 
that she was having an affair with Ms. Foreman, the patently gay physical 
education teacher.  These rumors had been circulating so long and with such 
assuredness that they were now taken as fact.  And, as with many such 
rumors, there was a grain of truth buried within.



Samantha suspected that she was a lesbian.  Typical of a sixteen-year-old 
girl dealing with feelings she did not yet understand, she still had not 
actually admitted that fact to herself.  There were some compelling signs, 
of course. The most obvious and hard to deal with being the fact that she 
wasn't sexually attracted to boys.  Looking at the football players on 
campus, at male actors on television, at pictures of Justin Timberlake, did 
nothing for her.  She had no longings to touch males, to see them, to feel 
them, to be in a relationship with them.  However, she did get a thrill out 
of looking at girls, out of seeing the attractive nymphs walking up and down 
the halls in their tight, low-riding pants and their midriff-baring shirts. 
She felt tingly inside when she looked at pictures of Hillary Duff or Sarah 
Michelle Geller.  This had been true ever since she was thirteen and first 
started getting sexual feelings.  They had always been towards the feminine 
sex.  The biggest clue had come when she'd discovered a hidden file deep in 
the bowels of the family computer one day last spring.  The file had been 
full of pornography.  Whether it belonged to her father or her older 
brother, she knew not, but it had been full of still pictures of nude women 
of all shapes and sizes.  She had stared at picture after picture in rapt 
awe, feeling her vagina getting wetter and wetter with each image that went 
by.  Soon, she had begun rubbing herself between her legs, at first through 
her shorts and then under the shorts over her panties and then, realizing 
that she was actually masturbating for the first time, she had undressed 
from the waist down and really gone to work.  Her first orgasm had exploded 
in her body shortly after - brought on by images of naked females with their 
legs spread, their breasts on display, their sheer femininity out for her to 
see.



It was then that she started to suspect she really might be a lesbian.  This 
suspicion was met with a variety of conflicting emotions - sometimes horror, 
sometimes shame, sometimes something that approached acceptance.  It was 
this last that was most rare.  She didn't want to be a lesbian.  Even though 
this was California, perhaps the most tolerant place in the nation for such 
things, tolerance was a relative thing.  Her parents - both members of the 
First Baptist Church of Heritage and staunch right-wing conservatives - 
certainly would have a shitfit if they thought their only daughter was a 
lesbian.  They would probably send her to psychiatrists and church 
counseling sessions.  And her peers!  She had already seen what the mere 
rumor of homosexuality was capable of doing in an upper-middle-class 
dominated public school.



The rumors had started during her freshman year, and out of all the stories 
circulated about her, there was only one that was strictly true.  It had to 
do with the locker room before and after gym class.  Immersed for the first 
time in an environment in which girls were actually undressing in front of 
her - even if it was only down to bra and panties in most cases - she had 
been unable to help but stare at them at times.  She had thought she was 
being circumspect about it.  But she hadn't been, or at least not 
circumspect enough.  By the time her second semester in gym rolled around, 
she found herself ostracized. The other girls avoided her when it was time 
to change.  The word that Samantha Spring liked to look at girls quickly 
spread throughout the whole school.



From that true rumor, the other not-so-true rumors sprung.  The stories that 
she had tried to seduce other girls came from mere conversations she'd had 
with female classmates who - by virtue of being either new or uninformed - 
had not heard of her reputation and had chosen to talk to her.  Once 
informed - usually by Mignon or Alexandria or one of their cohorts - that 
Samantha was in fact the school lesbian, the girl in question would 
inevitably break all contact with her and within days the rumors of how 
Samantha had tried to seduce her would run rampant through the school.  This 
was something that Mignon and Alexandria were particularly good at. 
Samantha had heard them with her own ears more than once.  Did you hear? 
Samantha was talking to that new girl and tried to get her to come over to 
her house.  Uh huh.  She told me herself.  Samantha said her parents weren't 
home and she had some really hot movies they could watch.  Uh huh... can you 
believe it?



And then there was the Ms. Foreman rumor.  That one was perhaps the most 
damning of all and the one most believed by the majority of the student 
body.  That Ms. Foreman was a lesbian was not in dispute.  She was a 
shorthaired, tattooed gym teacher who drove a Subaru Forester with a rainbow 
sticker on the bumper.  She wore earrings that consisted of two Greek female 
symbols overlapping each other.  When coming or going to school she was 
known to wear baggy blue jeans, flannel shirts, and to have her wallet on a 
chain.  Interestingly enough, Ms. Foreman was one woman who did absolutely 
nothing for Samantha as far as physical attractiveness went.  Samantha 
preferred feminine looking girls - the more feminine the better.  She liked 
girls in dressy and frilly clothing, girls showing their bellies and their 
boobs and the tightness of their butts.  She received nothing more from 
looking at Ms. Foreman than she did by looking at Justin Timberlake, or at 
Steven Call, Mignon's hunky, dumb as a rock, quarterback of the football 
team boyfriend.  No, the rumor had started simply because putting the 
confirmed lesbian and the suspected one together was a natural inclination 
of the rumormongers.  However, when Cindy Brecken -a member of the 
Mignon/Alexandra inner circle - spotted Samantha coming out of Ms. Foreman's 
office one day before gym, the rumor took on the assuredness of fact among 
all that heard it.  The visit had been nothing more than a friendly advice 
session from the older woman who had been through all of this in her own 
teen years to the younger one she had spotted undergoing the same trauma.



 "I'm not saying you are or you aren't anything," Ms. Foreman had told her. 
"But, as I'm sure you're aware, the girls think you're different from them 
in a fundamental way and are delighting themselves in feeling superior to 
you because of it.  Am I right?"



"I guess," Samantha had answered noncommittally, in the way of teenagers.



"All I'm trying to tell you is that - whether you are or you aren't - high 
school is the worst it gets.  For a girl who is... you know... different in 
that way, there are challenges and tribulations to come - I won't pretend 
that there are not - but the blatant cruelty and ostracization is the worst 
its going to get.  It will only improve from here.  I just wanted to 
reassure you of that."



Samantha had thanked her numbly, not giving her any indication one way or 
the other that she had appreciated this advice, even though she really had. 
Ms. Foreman had made nothing that could be considered a pass at her, had not 
even overtly said what she was really talking about.  But none of that 
mattered.  Once Cindy Brecken saw her leaving a private meeting with the 
lesbian teacher and once Mignon and Alexandra got their little hands on the 
story, it was as good as written in stone.  Ms. Foreman and Samantha were 
lovers.  Most of the student body - and even a few of the teachers - would 
have bet money on it.



"So what do you say?" Mignon asked now.  "You're not gonna make us go find 
another place to sit, are you?"



Samantha knew she should tell them she preferred to eat alone.  She knew 
that by doing anything else she would be setting herself up for something - 
either more rumors or perhaps something even crueler.  Knowing what she 
should do and actually doing it, however, were worlds apart.  Like many shy 
girls, like many ostracized people in general, she feared confrontation more 
than anything.  And then there was the fact that both of them were the 
epitome of what she found attractive in her sex.  They oozed femininity from 
every pore.  Every article of clothing they wore served to accent it. 
Mignon was wearing tight, low-riding jeans and a midriff-baring spaghetti 
strap top that accented her bulging breasts admirably.  Alexandria was 
wearing a denim mini-skirt that showed off those luscious legs.  Samantha 
was undeniably attracted to them, despite their cruelty, and, like a boy in 
the same position, she simply couldn't turn them away.



"Sure," she heard herself saying.  "Sit wherever you want."



"Thanks, Samantha," Mignon said with a passable tone of sincerity.  She 
flashed a brief smile and then sat down across from her.  Alexandria sat 
down next to her friend, smoothing her skirt out as she did so.



Both of them opened up designer lunch containers and began to remove their 
food.  Samantha saw, without much surprise, that both girls were eating 
fresh sushi.  They spent a few minutes arranging their cuts and their rice 
on the dishes and mixing up wasabi sauce.  They then daintily removed 
chopsticks from holders and each took a piece, their movements nearly in 
unison.



"Do you want to try some of this, Samantha?" Mignon asked politely, holding 
out a piece of salmon.  "It's, like, way better than the cafeteria food."



"Uh... no thanks," Samantha told her, still wary.  She figured there would 
now be a remark about how she thought Samantha was into eating fishy things, 
but Mignon simply nodded and ate the piece herself.



The three girls ate in silence for a few minutes, Mignon and Alexandria 
uncharacteristically uncommunicative, as if they didn't quite know how to 
initiate conversation, Samantha her typical, close-mouthed self.  Finally, 
when they were nearly done, Mignon broke the silence.



"You're pretty good at trig, aren't you, Samantha?" she asked.



"Trig?  Yeah, I guess so," she answered with a slight shrug.  She had three 
classes with Mignon and two with Alexandria.  One that they all shared was 
trigonometry, taught by Mr. Flatman, which was the class right before lunch.



"You're like being so modest," Alexandria said.  "You totally always know 
the answer when Flatman calls on you."



"Yeah," Mignon said.  "I bet you're getting an A in trig, aren't you?"



"I guess," she said again.



"Alexandria and I like totally suck at trig, don't we Alexandria?"



"Totally," Alexandria agreed.



"It is kind of hard," Samantha allowed, even though it really wasn't, at 
least not for her.  Mathematics with its logical order came quite naturally 
to her.



"We're like totally gonna bomb this mid-term tomorrow if someone doesn't 
help us," Mignon said.



"Totally," Alexandria agreed again.



Samantha looked up at them, understanding dawning.  So that's what it was 
about.  The two little princesses were failing trigonometry and wanted the 
lesbian math whiz to help them with it.  After all the teasing, all the 
rumors, all the vile cruelty they'd inflicted upon her, they now wanted her 
to help them.  She knew she should laugh right in their faces.  But she 
didn't.  She couldn't.  Instead, she found herself asking, "What kind of 
help do you need?"



Mignon smiled.  "We totally need some major cramming.  Is there like any 
chance you can come over to my house after school and study with us?"



"We'd be like totally grateful," Alexandria said.



"You want me to come over to your house?" she asked.



"Yeah," Mignon said.  "I'll pick you up after school and then drive you home 
when we're done.  Will you do it, Samantha?  Like tell me you will?"



"Yeah," Alexandria said.  "We'd be like totally in your debt."



"Sure," she said, wondering even as the word came out of her mouth what the 
hell she was doing.  She had played right into their hands.  They thought 
they could be cruel to anyone they pleased, spread whatever rumor they 
wanted, but when they wanted something from someone they could just be nice 
for five minutes and get what they wanted.  And Samantha had reinforced that 
belief by doing just that.



"Totally tight," Mignon said.  "I'll meet you in the parking lot after 
school.  You know what I drive."  It was not a question.  Everyone knew 
Mignon drove a white Volkswagen Jetta - a gift from her rich daddy upon 
receiving her driver's license.



"Yeah," Samantha said.  "I'll see you out there."



"You're totally a lifesaver," Mignon told her.



"Totally," Alexandra agreed.



+++++



Mignon's house was not a terribly modest one.  Located in a cul-de-sac 
within an exclusive gated community, it sat atop a bluff overlooking the 
eastern portion of the suburb.  It was a 3100 square foot tri-level with 
four bedrooms, a huge family room, an office, a four-car garage and an extra 
large, exquisitely landscaped backyard complete with swimming pool and hot 
tub.  Upon arriving there at 3:30 that afternoon, Samantha was given a 
complete tour.  She also met Mignon's mother, a woman in her early forties 
who had once been quite striking, Samantha was sure, but who now had 
undergone so many plastic surgeries and enhancements that she looked almost 
manufactured.



After the tour and the introductions, the three girls retired to Mignon's 
bedroom.  It was an over-large room complete with computer desk and top of 
the line computer system, a large screen television, and a four-poster bed 
done up in frilly pink.  The window overlooked the swimming pool and the hot 
tub.  An oak bookshelf in the corner was stuffed full of Teenbeat and 
Cosmopolitan magazines.  Mignon got some extra chairs and they crowded 
around the desk, opening up their trigonometry books.  They started 
studying.



Almost immediately Samantha noticed that something was not quite what it 
seemed.  As she explained the basic concepts of trigonometry and worked out 
sample problems for them to see how it was done, Mignon and Alexandria 
hardly seemed to be paying attention.  They sat quietly and respectfully, 
not talking to each other or doing anything overt to show their minds were 
wandering, but wandering was exactly what they were doing.  This was not 
totally unexpected, of course, but what was strange was that when she gave 
them trig problems to figure out utilizing whatever concept she had just 
gone over, the two would do them perfectly each time and then thank her for 
helping them understand the concept.



They already know how to do all this, her mind told her.  They're not 
failing trig at all.  But was that true?  Was she just imagining they 
weren't paying attention to her lessons?  Or was she maybe a natural 
teacher?  She didn't know, couldn't be sure either way.  She had so little 
experience socializing in any way with anyone and especially not with rich, 
beautiful cheerleaders.  She wondered again if this was some sort of set-up 
for something, some cruel joke that was in the works.  But if it was, the 
punch line did not materialize during the study session.  After two and a 
half hours her two students declared they were ready for the mid-term, and 
the study session came to an end.  They drove Samantha home in Mignon's 
Jetta, thanked her in what seemed a sincere fashion for her help, and told 
her they would see her in school the next day.



"What is going on?" she asked herself as she stared at the taillights of the 
Jetta moving away down her street.



When they disappeared completely she went inside, saying a brief hello to 
her mother and throwing a few obligatory insults at her brother.  She went 
upstairs to her room and lay down on her bed, staring up at the ceiling, 
trying to think things through.  Before long her thoughts turned from 
conspiracies and cruelty to other things, like what Mignon's breasts would 
feel like in her hand or what Alexandria's legs would feel like rubbing 
against hers.  Like always, she tried to fight off these blatantly 
homosexual images, guilt and arousal at war within her.



I'm not a lesbian, she told herself.  I don't want to be a lesbian.  I 
should be thinking of guys and dicks.  But the images were insistent, 
powerful, even more so today when she had just been in close contact with 
the object of them.  Before long her fingers slid down her body and 
unbuttoned her jeans.  They probed into her white panties, finding a slit 
that was hot and very wet, a clit that was probing upward, demanding 
attention.  She began to rub herself, the images of Mignon's breasts and 
Alexandria's legs taking explicit shape, becoming more graphic.  She 
imagined herself kissing and licking and sucking all over their bodies, 
moving from one to the other, pleasuring them, having them pleasure her. 
The orgasm that resulted was quite powerful.  The guilt she felt afterward 
was, too.



+++++



The next day at school it seemed to be business as usual.  Mignon and 
Alexandria ignored her completely during the first three classes, not so 
much as glancing in her direction.  Their usual circle of friends gathered 
around them and the gossiping went on just like it always had.  Samantha 
overheard Mignon deriding Tom Stinson - a grossly overweight junior who was 
the butt of almost as many jokes as Samantha herself - to the delight of her 
giggling teenage cohorts.



Even during fourth period, the trigonometry class they'd allegedly needed so 
much help in, the two girls continued to pretend Samantha wasn't even there. 
While waiting for Mr. Flatman to pass out the midterm exams they talked to 
each other and to two of the impossibly handsome college prep boys that sat 
behind them, giggling frequently and using the word "totally" and "like" at 
least once in every sentence.  Samantha mentally shrugged her shoulders, 
still wondering what the whole studying bit had been about.  It seemed she 
was never going to find out.



The midterms were dropped on their desks and they went to work.  Samantha, 
typically for math exams, was the first one finished.  Mignon and Alexandria 
were near the last to turn in their papers but neither seemed particularly 
worried.  Neither so much as glanced at her as they returned to their desk.



The bell rang and everyone filed out for lunch.  Samantha walked alone to 
the cafeteria, paid for her tray of tepid, meatless spaghetti, and walked 
over to an isolated table near the back of the room, just like normal.  She 
had no more than put the first bite into her mouth when Mignon and 
Alexandria showed up, happy smiles on their faces.



"Hey, Sam," Mignon said, plopping her lunch down and grabbing a seat without 
bothering to wait for an invite.



"How's it goin', Sam?" Alexandria echoed, sitting next to Mignon.



"Uh... hi," she said carefully, looking from one to the other, wondering 
what this was about now.  Why so friendly after all the ignoring?



"I'm like totally stoked about that trig midterm," Mignon said as she opened 
up her lunch and began arranging yet another serving of sushi.  "I totally 
rocked on it."



"Me too," Alexandria said, opening up her sushi.  "Totally."



"We want to like thank you for helping us study," Mignon told her.  "We 
would've totally bombed if you hadn't."



"Totally bombed," Alexandria agreed.  "We owe you one."



"Uh... well... I was... uh, glad to help," Samantha said.  "I'm glad you did 
well on it."



"I got an idea," Mignon said brightly, as if something had just occurred to 
her.  She turned to Alexandria.  "How about we invite Sam over tonight? 
There's like enough to go around, isn't there?"



Alexandria seemed to consider this for a few seconds.  "Yeah," she finally 
said.  "There's more than enough.  Let's do it."



"Invite me over where?" Samantha said carefully, instantly wary.  Was this 
the bomb she had been expecting to drop on her?



"To my house," Mignon said, lowering her voice a little.  "My parents are 
like totally going out of town tonight.  And Alexandria scored a big-ass 
bottle of hurricanes.  We're gonna have like a sleepover.  Watch movies and 
get drunk.  You up for it?"



"You want me to... to come over to your house?" Samantha asked.



"And drink hurricanes with us," Alexandria said.  "They're like totally the 
bomb.  Rum and pineapple juice and orange juice.  They don't even taste like 
booze at all.  They go down totally smooth."



"Totally," Mignon agreed.  "What do you say?  Sound like fun?"



"Uh... well, I don't know.  Who else is going to be there?"



"No one," Mignon assured her.  "Just Alexandria and I, and you if you want. 
I haven't even told anyone my parents are like out of town.  They'd totally 
show up uninvited and trash the house and I'd get so busted."



"It'll be so fun, Sam," Alexandria said.  "I got like five total chick 
flicks we can watch.  Say you'll come."



"Well..." she said slowly, hesitantly.  She knew she should say no.  Her 
instincts were telling her this had to be some kind of a set-up, that there 
had to be more than met the eye here.  But the irrational part of her mind 
was telling her to disregard her instincts.  A sleepover!  With the two most 
beautiful girls in school!  The very thought was enough to send a flood of 
moisture to her vagina.  Of course she knew nothing would happen - nor did 
she really want anything to happen - but just the thought of being alone 
with Mignon and Alexandria, alone where they would be drinking, getting 
intoxicated, maybe even... even... undressing?



"You simply have to come," Mignon told her.  "We insist, don't we, 
Alexandria?"



"Totally," Alexandria agreed.   "You sooo have to come, Sam."



"Okay," she blurted.  "As long as my mom says its okay."



"You're the bomb, Sam," Mignon said.



"Totally the bomb," Alexandria agreed.



+++++



Her mom had no problem with giving her permission for a sleepover.  On the 
contrary, Michelle Spring seemed glad that her reclusive daughter finally 
seemed to be making some friends.  She told her to have fun and to stay out 
of trouble, and that was that.  Not another word was said about it.



Samantha, however, remained on pins and needles the entire afternoon. 
Mignon had told her she would pick her up about 7:00.  While waiting for 
that magic hour to roll around, her mind went through a constant turmoil, 
seeming to pull her in several different directions.  Were they setting her 
up for something?  That was her primary concern.  She could not allow 
herself to forget the cruelty those two girls were capable of inflicting 
upon others, that they had already inflicted upon her.  Did she really 
believe they had changed their colors?  That they had suddenly decided to 
like someone they had always degraded and teased and tortured?  No, she had 
to admit, that was hardly likely.  But on the other hand, maybe they had? 
Wasn't that possible?  Maybe they really had changed their ways and this was 
a way of atoning for past sins.  That wasn't impossible, was it?



She realized she was rationalizing things, twisting her perceptions and 
thoughts around so she would be able to justify going to the sleepover.  As 
for why she was going to such great lengths, why she was willing to take 
such a chance, the answer to that caused her even more turmoil.  She tried 
to tell herself that it was simply because she craved friendship. 
Circumstances had made her a loner and she wanted to break out of that 
cycle.  Becoming friends with the two most popular girls in school seemed a 
significant step towards that goal.  But she knew, deep down, that it wasn't 
the answer, that it wasn't why she was risking what seemed a certain 
humiliation.  She was powerfully attracted to the two girls, infatuated with 
them in a way she had never really experienced before.  Confronting this 
attraction, however, meant at least partially admitting what she most 
feared: that she really was a lesbian, that this attraction she felt for 
members of her own sex really was something that wasn't just a phase or an 
aberration or teenaged confusion.



She really thought she would have called and cancelled just to avoid that 
particular mind battle.  There was only one problem.  Mignon had never given 
her a phone number.  Nor had Alexandria.  And wouldn't it be rude to cancel 
when they actually showed up to pick her up?  Yes, she thought so, this time 
not realizing the rationalization had gone through without her noticing it.



When the white Jetta showed up outside at 7:00 that evening, she told her 
mother goodbye and carried her small duffel bag out with her.



"Bye, Sammy," her mother called cheerfully after her.  "Have fun."



"I'll try," she said softly.  "I'll try."



+++++



Mignon and Alexandria were bubbly and friendly on the drive over to Mignon's 
house.  They talked and joked freely with Samantha, treating her exactly 
like one of their inner circle of friends.  They gossiped about several 
people with typical cruelty, sharing alleged anecdotes about one of the 
school nerds and one of the stoners with Samantha.  And strangely enough, 
this made Samantha feel a little better.  She had never been on the inside 
of the gossip circle before and found it refreshing that someone else was 
being talked about for once.



When they arrived, Mignon parked her Jetta in the garage instead of the 
driveway.  They entered the large, empty house through the garage door, 
Alexandria pausing to get her own duffel bag out of the trunk.  Mignon 
immediately trooped through the house and made sure all of the blinds were 
closed and all of the doors were securely locked.



"Remember," she told Samantha and Alexandria, "we're not really here.  No 
one answers the phone or the doorbell until tomorrow morning."



"Totally," Alexandria said.



"Uh... totally," Samantha put in, earning a smile from both of her 
companions.



"Let's do some hurricanes," Mignon said happily.  She went over to a kitchen 
cupboard and pulled out three water tumblers.



While Mignon filled the glasses with ice from the refrigerator, Alexandria 
opened her duffel and pulled out a gallon bottle filled with a bright, 
unnaturally blue liquid.  She set it down on the counter and opened the lid. 
When Mignon set the glasses down before her, she poured each one full.  She 
then passed them around.



Samantha took hers and looked at it doubtfully.  She had very little 
experience with alcohol.  The only time she had really drank before had been 
when she and her cousin Marty had gotten into her uncle's tequila one day 
about a year before and had experimented with making margaritas.  She had 
ended up puking her guts out in the toilet a few hours later and both of 
them had been grounded for a month.



"Drink up," Mignon said, seeing her hesitation.  "You've gotten drunk 
before, haven't you?"



"Of course," Samantha replied, managing to inject just the right amount of 
indignation in her tone.  "I've just never... uh... had a hurricane before."



"It's totally the bomb," Alexandria encouraged.  "Try it."



Slowly, cautiously, she put the glass to her lips and took a sip.  To her 
surprise it tasted very good.  It was sweet, and the alcohol taste was 
nothing more than a faint undertone.  "It's good," she said, taking a larger 
drink.



"Fuckin' aye," Mignon said, drinking down half of hers in a single gulp. 
"Would we steer you wrong?"



"I guess not," she replied, drinking some more.



Thirty minutes later, the three girls were still sitting at the kitchen 
counter and nearly half the bottle was gone.  Samantha had downed three 
glasses of the blue concoction and she could feel the warmth spreading 
throughout her entire body.  Her head was buzzing quite pleasantly and all 
of her doubts about coming to this sleepover had disappeared.  Mignon and 
Alexandria were wonderful companions, the kind of girls she could envision 
being her best friends.  They were being chatty with her in a way she had 
never experienced with anyone before.  And, also for the first time, they 
were laughing with her instead of at her.  She was truly having a good 
time - perhaps the first really good time she'd ever had in her life.  She 
was glad she'd accepted their invitation now and was ashamed she'd suspected 
them of having ulterior motives.



Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately, depending upon how you looked at 
it - she was too inexperienced a drinker to realize how badly better 
judgment and rational thought is impaired by alcohol.  Or how some people 
utilize it to give them courage to do something daring.



+++++



"Let's go get our pajamas on," Mignon suddenly piped up, shortly after 
everyone had consumed their fourth drinks.



"Yeah," Alexandria said enthusiastically.  "Let's like totally get this 
sleepover rolling."



The two of them stood up and looked at Samantha, who remained seated.



"Ain't ya coming, Sam?" Mignon asked.



"You remembered to bring some pajamas, right?" Alexandria put in.



"Well... uh... yeah," she said, a little bit of nervousness trying to fight 
its way through her haze of intoxication, "but you want to put them on... 
now?  It's only a little after eight."



"It's a sleepover, Sam," Mignon said.  "Don't you know the rules?  Everyone 
dresses in their pajamas at a sleepover."



"Yeah," said Alexandria.  "It's like the law."



"Oh," she said doubtfully.  "Well... okay then."



She stood up and they went upstairs to Mignon's bedroom, all of them more 
than a little unsteady on their feet, Samantha a bit more so than the two 
older girls.  Once inside, Mignon began digging in her walk-in closet and 
Alexandria unzipped her gym bag and began digging through it.  Samantha 
unzipped her own bag and shuffled around through her own clothes until she 
came up with a pair of sweats and a long T-shirt.  When she turned around 
she took in a sharp intake of breath.  Mignon was standing next to the bed, 
a silky pink camisole resting on the comforter.  She had already removed her 
shirt and was in the process of unhooking the frilly white bra.  A second 
later that too came free, leaving her standing less than three feet in front 
of Samantha with her generous breasts completely bared.  They were as 
beautiful as Samantha had always imagined, about the size of ripe 
grapefruits, the skin just half a shade paler than the alabaster of what was 
normally exposed to view.  The nipples were pink and perfect, the size of 
pencil erasers and about half erect.



"Something wrong, Sam?" Mignon asked softly.  "You act like you've never 
seen tits before."



"Uh... no... I mean... yes... I mean... nothing's wrong."  She forced 
herself to drag her eyes away from the appetizing sight.  This didn't help. 
All she encountered was Alexandria, who had just pushed her tight jeans down 
and was standing in only a pair of skimpy lavender panties.  Her legs, 
completely bare for Samantha's perusal, were true works of art, perfectly 
toned and flawless, with just the right amount of lingering baby fat to give 
them an appetizing curvature.



"You think my legs are too fat?" Alexandria asked as she saw her looking at 
them.  She turned this way and that, modeling them, including an extended 
shot from the rear view, which revealed the bottom of her butt cheeks poking 
out of the panties.



"Uh... I mean... uh... no, they look... you know... okay," Samantha 
stuttered.  She forced her eyes back to the center, trying desperately to 
keep them off the two girls, both of whom continued to strip their clothes 
off.



"Earth to Sam," Mignon said, reaching over and knocking lightly on the top 
of Samantha's head with her knuckles.



Samantha was forced to look over at her.  Mignon was now wearing nothing but 
a pair of pink thong panties.  Her breasts jiggled with each knock on the 
head.  Despite her embarrassment, Samantha felt herself getting wet between 
the legs. "Uh... yeah?"



"Are you like, gonna get your jams on, or what?  The booze gettin' to you, 
girlfriend?"



"Umm... oh... yeah," she stammered, feeling herself blushing furiously now. 
They wanted her to undress, too.  To be... be... undressed in the same room 
with them.  With trembling fingers she reached down to the hem of her shirt 
pulling it upwards and off.  Her own medium sized breasts were encased in a 
standard, unexciting white bra.  She picked up her long T-shirt, intending 
to put it on over her head before removing her pants.  But Mignon quickly 
stopped her.



"What are you doing?" she asked.  "You're not gonna leave your bra on, are 
you?"



"Well..." Samantha said hesitantly, "I was uh... you know..."



"Oh, come on, girlfriend," Mignon told her.  "It's just us girls here.  You 
don't sleep in a bra at home, do you?"



"Well... no," she said.



"Then take it off," Mignon told her.  "Get comfortable."



Samantha swallowed audibly, feeling a strange mixture of embarrassment and 
arousal.  It is quite possible that, if not for the alcohol, she might have 
fled right there.  But she didn't.  Instead she reached around behind her 
and unclasped her bra, letting it fall free.  To her horror, she saw that 
her nipples were hard, undoubtedly from the sight of the two girls 
undressed.  What would they think of her?  What would they say?  But neither 
of the girls seemed to be paying the least bit of attention to her boobs. 
Instead, they were looking at each other, seeming to share some sort of 
silent communication.  Samantha quickly picked up her long T-shirt and put 
it on, letting it cover her.  It came down to mid-thigh.



"You know, Migs," Alexandria said to Mignon, utilizing a nick name Samantha 
had never heard anyone call her before, "I've always wished I had your 
boobies."



"Yeah?" Mignon said playfully.  "So does half the fuckin' football team."



Alexandria giggled drunkenly.  "Seriously, Migs," she said.  "They're 
like... totally perfect, ya know?"  She turned to Samantha, who was still 
trying to gather the courage to remove her pants.  "Doesn't she just have 
the best tits?"



"Ummm, well... I guess," Samantha said, as if she'd never really noticed 
before.



"Oh come on," Alexandria said.  "They're totally the fuckin' bomb, 
girlfriend.  I mean, look at them!  Like fuckin' softballs.  Nice and round. 
Guys drool over that set.  And talk about soft and squishy."



"Oh shut the fuck up," Mignon giggled, obviously far from offended.



"No, really," Alexandria insisted.  "Feel those things, Sam.  You've never 
felt tits so perfect."



Samantha nearly choked.  Was this how girls really behaved while drunk?  Or 
was this some sort of game?  "Uh... no, that's okay," she said.



But Alexandria was not going to take no for an answer.  "Seriously," she 
said, walking over, still wearing nothing but her lavender panties.  "You 
have to."  She reached around Samantha from behind, so her own small breasts 
where pushing up against Samantha's back.  She grabbed Samantha's hands and 
lifted them up, propelling Samantha towards Mignon, who was still giggling. 
"Bring those things over here, Migs."



Mignon, blushing herself now, stepped forward and presented her chest. 
Alexandria brought Samantha's hands up and she suddenly found herself with 
two handfuls of beautiful teenage breasts.  They were soft and pliable and 
warm, the nipples now mostly erect and pushing against her palms.  Her pussy 
began to juice up frantically as she felt the sensation.



"Aren't they totally the fuckin' bomb?"  Alexandria asked, her own breasts 
still pushing into Samantha's back.  "Here, feel 'em a little bit."  With 
that, she began forcing Samantha's hands to squeeze and palpate them. 
Samantha had to fight to suppress a moan as they squished and slipped in her 
hands, as she watched them flush with blood under her fingers, as she 
watched the nipples grow harder and more insistent.



"They're... they're... very... uh... nice," Samantha managed to squeak, 
desperately trying to pull her hands away.  Finally, and agonizingly, 
Alexandria allowed her to release them and stepped back from her.



"You think so?" Mignon asked, seemingly innocently, but Samantha swore she 
heard a hitch in her voice.  She hefted them up herself.  "I mean... I know 
they're hot and all, but you really like them?"



"Uh... sure," Samantha croaked, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from 
them again.  God, her panties were now soaking wet!  She could feel it with 
each movement she made.  What was happening here?



Things seemed to return to almost normal - whatever normal was.  The subject 
of conversation turned from what beautiful and squeezable breasts Mignon had 
to what non-existent breasts Susan Chatfield - a flat-chested junior of the 
nerd clique - had.  Mignon picked up her pink camisole and put it on. 
Alexandria put on a lavender baby-doll nightgown that was at least two sizes 
too small.  It fell only to her upper thighs.  Samantha, both relieved and 
disappointed with the shift in topic, finally gathered the courage to 
unbutton her pants and slide them off, revealing her own moderately 
attractive legs.  She picked up her sweats and was about to put them on but 
was stopped by Alexandria, who nearly ripped them out of her hands.



"You don't need to put those things on," she said.  "You'll be totally hot 
down there if you do."



"Totally," Mignon agreed.



"Remember, it's just us girls here.  Don't trip on it."



"Right," Mignon said.  "Just us girls."



Samantha, still confused, still unsure what was going on here, didn't even 
bother protesting.  "I guess you're right," she said.  Still, she knew she 
would have to be careful not to expose her panties for a while.  She knew 
there would be a visible wet stain on the crotch.



"Let's go downstairs and fire up a movie," Mignon said.



"Fuckin' aye," Alexandria agreed.  "Let's do it."



"Yeah," Samantha said, a little more enthusiasm now.  "Let's do it."



+++++



The movie was a recently released romantic comedy starring one of the 
current male heartthrobs.  It might have been a good movie or it might have 
been a bomb.  It was hard to tell since no one really paid any attention to 
it.  Mignon had positioned them on a couch facing the large screen 
television, herself and Alexandria sitting on either side of Samantha.  All 
three of them had consumed another glass of hurricane, increasing their 
level of intoxication considerably.  Mignon and Alexandria were talking 
continuously, both of them frequently leaning over Samantha to accomplish 
this, perhaps a little bit more than was strictly required.



Samantha did not contribute much to the conversation.  She was too 
overwhelmed and aroused by the sights and sensations she was experiencing by 
being sandwiched between them.  Alexandria's smooth leg was pushed against 
hers on the right.  Whenever she would lean over to talk to Mignon, it would 
rub softly and maddeningly against hers.  And whenever Mignon leaned over 
from the other direction those soft, supple breasts would push against her 
shoulder, imparting their delicious weight upon them.  Several times, unable 
to help herself, she had looked directly at Mignon's boobs, seeing openly 
down the front of her camisole to the hard nipples and swollen aureole.  She 
had also caught a few glances high on Alexandria's legs, seeing her lavender 
panties covering her crotch.  She couldn't help but notice a distinct wet 
spot in that particular place and she was sure it hadn't come from a spilled 
drink.



Samantha wondered if they were deliberately teasing her, and if so, why? 
Were they hoping she would make a move on them so they could announce it to 
the whole school?  Were they simply trying to have a little fun at her 
expense?  Were they actually closet lesbians themselves, testing the waters? 
Whatever it was, they were driving her mad with desire.  Her mouth was 
actually watering at the sight of those breasts, those legs, those nipples, 
that crotch.  She could not even begin to tell herself she wasn't really 
feeling these things, that she didn't really long to put her hands and mouth 
all over them.  It was a physical desire, more potent than she had ever 
experienced before. It was pure, unadulterated lust.  Her panties were 
absolutely soaked with her juices.  She was so wet she was beginning to fear 
they might begin to smell her musk - or, worse - that maybe they already 
did.  And of course, as always with the arousal, the guilt and shame were 
there as well, the part of her that didn't want her to be a lesbian, that 
wanted to deny her urges, trying to punish her for decadent, perverted 
thoughts.



She knew she should get out of here, and quickly.  She should just go home 
and go to bed, where she would masturbate furiously over the sights and 
sounds she'd experienced and then go to sleep so she could start putting 
everything into perspective the next morning.  But she couldn't leave, not 
now.  For one, she couldn't very well show up at home twelve hours before 
she was expected, obviously drunk.  She would be grounded for a year.  And 
even if that wasn't a factor, she just could not bring herself to pull away 
from what was going on.  She was sandwiched between two scantily clad, 
beautiful girls who seemed to be going out of their way to rub themselves 
all over her.  Leaving now would be an act of madness.



This went on for another fifteen minutes or so, until Mignon picked up the 
remote control and suddenly turned off the movie.  "This flick like totally 
bites," she proclaimed.



"Totally," Alexandria agreed, her voice a little lower than normal, a little 
less sure than normal.



Strange, Samantha thought, though she did not say it.  "Are we gonna put on 
another one?" she asked.



"Maybe in a little bit," Mignon said, a peculiar smile on her face.  "First, 
do you mind if I... like... ask you a personal question?"



"Me?" Samantha said.  "Uh... sure, I guess."



Mignon gave a nervous little giggle, as if gathering her courage.  "Well... 
when you and Ms. Foreman... you know... get together... what do you... like 
what do you do with each other?"



Samantha felt some of her drunkenness retreating, being replaced by alarm. 
"When we get together?" she asked slowly.



"Yeah," Mignon said.  "You know... when you... like get it on with her. 
What do you guys do?  I'm like totally not teasing you here, I'm really 
interested."



"Yeah," Alexandria said, her eyes shining with unmistakable interest.  "What 
you tell us will totally stay with us."



So this was one of their cruel jokes after all.  Had she really ever thought 
it wasn't?  They had gotten her over here on the pretense of friendship, 
gotten her drunk, rubbed themselves all over her, just so they could taunt 
her when she had no hope of escape.  She sighed, feeling tears near the 
surface.  She should have fucking known better.



"Ms. Foreman and I do not get together," she said firmly.  "And if that's 
all you brought me over to ask, I think I'll just be going now."  She 
started to stand.



Mignon put her hand on her shoulder, gently preventing her from leaving. 
"No, seriously, Sam.  I know we talk a lot of shit, but we're really serious 
about keeping it to ourselves.  Tell us what you guys do.  Do you like... 
you know..." she swallowed. "...go down on her?"



"Look," Samantha said, feeling anger now.  "I don't know how to make this 
any more clear.  There is nothing going on between Ms. Foreman and me. 
There never has been and there never will be!"



It was obvious they didn't believe her.  "Look, Sam," Mignon said, her hand 
still holding onto Samantha's shoulder, "we both know what you are.  It's no 
big.  We're both cool with that.  Aren't we Alexandria?"



"Totally," Alexandria said softly.  "We're just... you know... like 
interested."



"You know what I am?" Samantha asked.



"Well... yeah," Mignon said.  "You're a lesbian.  Are you trying to say that 
you're not?"



"Yes," Samantha said, her eyes looking downward, her voice quiet.  It 
sounded like a lie even to her lips.



"C'mon, girlfriend," Mignon told her, her voice roughening a little.  "We've 
seen you checking out the girls in gym class for two years.  We know you're 
never around boys, that you never even look at them.  And you've been 
totally eating up the two of us rubbing ourselves on you for the past hour. 
You totally loved squeezing my boobies up in my room.  Don't even try to say 
you didn't.  Your fuckin' panties are soaking wet right now, aren't they?"



"No," Samantha mumbled.  "I don't know what you're talking about."



Mignon's hand reached down and grasped the hem of Samantha's shirt.  Before 
she could stop her, before she even realized what was happening, the shirt 
was hiked up, exposing Samantha's white panties.  As Mignon had said, they 
were soaked to the point of semi-transparency.  Her lips were clearly 
swollen in excitement.  The smell of her musk assaulted her nose.



"Look at you," Mignon said triumphantly.  "You're so turned on by us you can 
hardly stand it.  Can't you smell yourself?  You smell like me after I watch 
an Ashton Kutcher movie."



"I'm leaving," Samantha said, trying to stand again.  But again, Mignon's 
hand held her down.  "Let me go!" she demanded.



"Hold on a second," Mignon told her.  "I'm trying to tell you, we're okay 
with it."



"Yeah," Alexandria said, her eyes still staring at Samantha's wet panties. 
"We're totally okay with it."



"We like brought you over here for a reason," Mignon said.  "Hear us out."



Samantha quit struggling.  "What do you want from me?" she asked.



"Well..." Mignon said, "Alexandria and I... we've like both totally had lots 
of sex, you know."



"Totally," Alexandria said.



"But we've... like... you know... never had a guy... you know... go down on 
us.  At least not one who knew what he was doing."



Samantha felt herself turning red, a mixture of rage and arousal.  "And what 
does that have to do with me?" she asked, although she suspected she knew 
exactly what it had to do with her.



"Well, duh," Mignon said.  "You're a lesbian.  We talked it over and we 
decided to let you go down on us."



"To... let me go down on you?" Samantha said.



"Just so we can see what it's like," Mignon said.  "You know, when someone 
who knows how to do it does it."



"Totally," Alexandria said, her voice growing huskier and more aroused by 
the "totally".



"Of course we know you won't tell anyone about it," Mignon said.  "Not that 
they'd believe you anyway.  But that's why we brought you here.  We want you 
to eat us out.  It's that simple."



Samantha took a moment to gather her thoughts, finding it a disturbingly 
difficult thing to do thanks to the alcohol.  They had brought her here to 
go down on them!  She could not believe it, could not believe they were so 
bold and arrogant as to think she would actually do it.  How had Mignon 
termed it?  We decided to let you go down on us?



"Why did you need me?" she asked them.  "Why don't you just do it for each 
other?"



This question seemed to genuinely appall Mignon.  "Each other?" she asked. 
"As if.  We're not fucking lesbians, you know.  That's why we got you over 
here."



Samantha blinked.  "So you think," she asked, just to be sure she understood 
correctly, "that if you let me do it to you, you're not a lesbian, but that 
if you do it for each other, you are?"



"Well, duh," Mignon said, rolling her eyes upward.  "If a guy lets another 
guy suck his dick, does that make him a fag?  Jeez, we just want to see what 
it feels like."



"Besides," Alexandria put in, "we've never done it before.  You have."



"No," Samantha said.  "I haven't."



"Yeah, right," Mignon said.  "And I haven't given a guy a blowjob before, 
either.  So are you ready to do it, or what?  'Cause I'm totally ready."



"Me too," Alexandria said enthusiastically.



Samantha shook her head.  "Sorry," she said.  "Find yourself someone else." 
She started to get up again.



This time, Mignon did not restrain her.  Instead, she simply smiled.  "Hey, 
Samantha," she said in cocky voice.



"What?" Samantha said, turning towards her, half on her feet, half on the 
couch.



"I'll let you play with my titties if you do it," Mignon said softly.  She 
reached up and pushed her camisole down, baring them.  As before, the 
nipples were turgid, sticking out in a manner that could only be described 
as appetizing.  Mignon cupped them, offering them to her prey.  "Don't you 
want to touch them some more?  Play with them? Lick them?"



Samantha paused, feeling herself shudder, feeling arousal and anger both 
surging through her.  As Mignon had intended, the sight of those perfect, 
beautiful mammaries was having an effect on her.  God, they were so nice, so 
squeezable.



Mignon smiled wider.  She reached out and took Samantha's hands, pulling her 
towards them.  "Go ahead," she whispered.  "Put your hands on them.  You can 
do whatever you want with them.  You know you want to."



Samantha tried to pull her hands away, or rather she made a show of trying 
to pull them away.  She didn't struggle very hard at all.  And then her 
hands were on those warm, soft orbs once again.  She felt the nipples 
pushing into her palms again.  Her trembling increased.  More moisture went 
flooding into her crotch.  Mignon let go of her hands.  Samantha did not 
move hers.



"They're yours, Samantha," Mignon said seductively.  "Play with them."



A groan escaped from Samantha's throat and her hands, knowing they liked 
what they were feeling, began to move on their own.  They squeezed and 
palpated.  Her thumbs rubbed over the nipples.



"That's the way," Mignon said, her breathing a little heavier now.  "You 
like my boobies, don't you?  You like the way they feel in your hands."



Samantha didn't answer.  But she didn't stop either.  She squeezed a little 
harder, unable to believe she was actually going along with this, but 
thrilled to the core to have Mignon's beautiful tits in her hands.



"You've been dying to get your hands on those, haven't you?" asked 
Alexandria from behind her.  She was even more breathless than Mignon, maybe 
even more than Samantha herself.  "You should be honored.  You've got your 
hands on what every male in school would kill to touch."



"That's right," Mignon said, pushing herself a little more firmly into 
Samantha's grasp.  "You've been dreaming about my tits for years, haven't 
you?"



Samantha continued to be silent, but Mignon wasn't going to let her get away 
with it this time.



"Haven't you?" Mignon insisted.  "Tell me, or I'll take them away from you."



"Yes," Samantha heard herself saying.  "For years."



"I knew it, you little lezzy," Mignon said.  She put her hand on the back of 
Samantha's head.  She started to pull her towards her chest. "Why don't you 
suck them?  You know you want to.  You know you can't wait to put them in 
your little lezzy mouth."



Samantha moaned, fully giving in now.  She allowed herself to be pulled 
forward until her mouth was half an inch from Mignon's left nipple.  She 
hesitated for the briefest of seconds and then slurped it between her lips, 
sucking it as she'd always fantasized, licking it up and down with her 
tongue, suckling it like a newborn baby who needed it to live.



"Oh... my," Mignon said, a shudder going through her body.  For the first 
time her voice broke just the slightest bit.  "You are totally into this, 
aren't you?"



"Mmmm," Samantha heard herself moan.  She gave another suck and then 
switched to the other breast, attacking it with her mouth.



"This is so fuckin' hot," Alexandria said from behind her, seemingly unaware 
that she was speaking aloud.  She also seemed unaware that her hand had 
dropped between her legs and was rubbing the wet spot in her lavender 
panties.



Mignon allowed Samantha to suck and slobber all over her breasts for the 
better part of five minutes, until the nipples were beet red and nearly half 
an inch long, until Mignon herself was hardly able to suppress her moans of 
pleasure.



"Jesus Christ," she panted.  "You know how to suck a fucking boob.  But its 
time to move on."  She put her hands on the top of Samantha's head and 
started to push.  "Do what you came here for," she ordered.



Samantha allowed herself to be pushed to her knees on the floor, so her 
mouth was up against Mignon's bellybutton and the silver ring that was 
threaded through it.  She looked downward, between Mignon's spread legs, 
seeing the pink thong she was wearing.  The crotch of it was wet and sucked 
inward.  She could smell the barest hint of Mignon's arousal and the odor 
turned her on like she wouldn't have believed.



"Wait," she said, looking upward.



"What the fuck do you mean, wait?" Mignon demanded.  "Jesus fucking Christ!"



"I've never... never done this before," Samantha said.  "I mean... I want 
to, but... but..."



"The fuck you've never done it before," Mignon barked at her.  "Get your 
lezzy face down there and start eating me, bitch!"  She began to push on 
her.  "Now!"



Samantha shuddered again, both humiliated by Mignon's words and incredibly 
turned on by them.  She sank further, until she was staring at the crotch of 
those pink panties from less than three inches away.  The smell was now 
overpowering, the rich, musky smell of teenage pheromones sending out their 
signals of lust.  She could see the edge of one swollen vaginal lip peeking 
out.  It was bare of pubic hair and the most exciting thing she'd ever seen.



"Take off my fuckin' panties and eat me, you lezzy slut," Mignon hissed. 
"Do it!"



With trembling hands, Samantha reached forward, grabbing the thong by the 
waist and pulling.  Mignon raised her butt off the couch, allowing them 
slide off.  As Samantha pulled them down her legs and off, Mignon 
repositioned, so her thighs were resting on Samantha's shoulders when she 
was done.  Samantha looked between her legs, getting her first good look at 
her target.  It was as erotic as she'd always imagined.  She was 
clean-shaven except for a small strip of blonde hair on her pubis, just 
enough to show that the hair on her head was a natural shade.  Her vaginal 
lips were swollen, an angry red in color and glistening with wetness.  Her 
clit was sticking up proudly, ready to be savaged.



"Come on, lezzy," Mignon breathed.  "Get your face in there.  Do what you do 
best."



"Yeah," Alexandria whispered excitedly.  "Eat her.  Make her cum on your 
fuckin' face!"



Consumed by lust, all of her doubts, fears, trepidations, and guilt driven 
far to the back of her mind, Samantha put her face forward and, for the 
first time in her life, touched a vagina with her tongue.  The taste was 
tart, musky, far from anything that could be classified as sweet.  But it 
was the most exciting, most invigorating thing she'd ever tasted in her 
life.  She loved it, wanted more of it, wanted to fill her mouth and nose 
with the taste and smell of it.  She was inexperienced, but instinctively 
knew what to do to give pleasure to her lover.  She simply did what she 
would've liked done to her.  She licked up one lip and down the other, 
circling around the erect clit but not actually making contact with it.  She 
plunged her tongue inside, driving it in and out like a small, wet piston. 
She sucked the lips into her mouth, pulling them, stretching them, finally 
releasing them, only to dive back in and do it again.  She licked the 
perineal area, stopping just short of making contact with Mignon's quivering 
anus.



"Oh, my God," Mignon panted from above her, her hands entwined in Samantha's 
short auburn hair.  "Oh, my fucking sweet Jesus!"



"Is it good?" Alexandria asked, nearly wheezing in her own excitement.  Her 
hand was now unabashedly in her crotch, rubbing herself through her panties.



"Oh, Jesus fucking God fucking shit," Mignon replied, her head going back 
now.  "You have no fucking idea, girlfriend.  No fucking idea!"



The filthy words and Mignon's obvious excitement drove Samantha on.  She 
gave a little moan herself and stepped her attack up a notch.  She plunged 
her tongue in and out with renewed vigor, actually fucking her with it. 
Mignon's crotch began to rise up and down, seemingly of its own volition. 
And then Samantha let her tongue glide over the top of Mignon's clit, 
tasting the delicate bud for the first time.  It was slippery, a different 
texture than her lips or her vulva.  The effect on Mignon was instant.



"Ohhh, shit!" Mignon cried, jerking as if shocked.  "What did you... ohhhh!"



Samantha licked her there again, using up and down strokes of her tongue 
between plunges into the cavity.  As Mignon began to pant louder, as her 
thighs began to break out in goosebumps, as her fingers began to pull harder 
on Samantha's hair, Samantha brought up the index and middle finger of her 
right hands and slid them inside of Mignon's wet slit.  She was tight, 
tighter than Samantha would have thought for someone as allegedly 
experienced as Mignon.  She felt the girl's membranes clenching at her, 
drawing her fingers in deeper.  She attached her lips to the swollen clit 
and began to lash it continuously with her tongue.



"Oh... shit... oh fuck," Mignon squeaked.  "Yesssss.  Keep doing that.  Oh 
shit!"



She kept doing it, driving her fingers in and out and licking the clit with 
increasing speed and power.  Mignon's pelvis was now bucking up and down, 
making it difficult for Samantha to stay on her task.  She used her left 
hand to steady her blonde lover a little.  When Mignon began to sound like a 
steam engine on overdrive, she stopped licking the clit and took it between 
her lips.  She began to suck on it like it was a nipple.



"Ohhh, what are you.... Ohhhhhhh!" Mignon screamed.  "Yesss, I'm gonna... 
I'm gonna... oh shit!"



Mignon came like a highballing express train, her pelvis mashing back and 
forth, up and down, her hands actually ripping some of Samantha's hair out 
her head.  She screamed loudly, a primal cry of sheer pleasure and lust as 
she flopped around on the couch like a rag doll.  Finally, after nearly a 
minute, she relaxed, her hands pushing Samantha's face from between her 
legs.



Samantha looked up at her and saw she was covered in a sheen of sweat, her 
pale skin flushed and glowing, her eyes glazed over.



"Holy fucking shit," Mignon said, her voice full of awe.  "I've never cum 
like that before.  I didn't even know you could cum like that."



"My turn," Alexandria said, reaching over and grabbing Samantha by the 
shoulders.  "Do me just like you did her.  Jesus, that was fucking hot!"



Samantha, quite turned on herself, allowed herself to be turned and saw that 
Alexandria had removed all of her clothes at some point.  Her lavender 
panties and her lavender nightgown were puddled up next to the couch. 
Alexandria laid back on the couch and spread her beautiful legs.  Between 
them was yet another aroused teenage crotch.  She had shaved it an exact 
duplication of Mignon's, with only a strip of black hair at the top, the 
swollen and excited lips completely bare.



"C'mon, Sammy," Alexandria said, her voice pleading instead of aggressive. 
"Do it to me.  Make me cum like that too."



Samantha, not quite sane at the moment, nodded, but she let an evil look 
come across her face.  "I will," she said.  "But I'm going to do it a little 
differently."



"Differently?" Alexandria said.  "What... what... do you mean?"



Samantha looked at her legs hungrily.  "You'll see," she said.



With that, she went to work.  Instead of attacking her new lover's crotch, 
she went after the part she found most attractive on her.  She started at 
her feet, sucking each of her toes into her mouth, doing it slowly, 
sensuously, one by one.  Alexandria obviously approved of this action.  Her 
moans were continuous and more than a little loud.



"You really are a little fuckin' lezzy, aren't you?" whispered Mignon, who 
had turned on the couch to watch.  Her hand had already dropped down to her 
bare crotch, was already rubbing up and down.



Samantha didn't answer.  She was well beyond that now.  She moved from 
Alexandria's toes to the bottom of her feet and then to the backs of her 
gorgeous legs.  Her tongue licked every square inch of flesh on those legs, 
alternating from one to the other, tasting and feeling the baby smoothness, 
exploring every contour, working its way upward millimeter by millimeter. 
She reached the back of the knees and spent an extended time there, tonguing 
what was obviously a particularly sensitive erogenous zone.  Alexandria was 
rendered speechless by this alone.  Samantha then moved to the front of the 
legs, swirling her tongue around the kneecaps for a few moments, bathing 
them in her saliva. She then began to move upward, onto the softer, smoother 
skin of Alexandria's thighs.  She twirled her tongue from back to front, 
front to back, continuing to change legs ever once in a while, kissing and 
licking, occasionally giving soft bites.  By the time she reached the 
exquisite softness of the inner thighs, Alexandria's pussy was slick and 
wet, like it had been rubbed with oil.



"Do it," Alexandria begged, her body trembling with excitement.  "Oh God, 
Sam, do it!  Put your mouth on me.  Please!"



"Yeah," Mignon said from behind her, her fingers now fully into her own 
pussy, plunging in and out.  "Do it to her, you fuckin' lezzy!  Do it!"



Samantha did it.  She plunged her mouth forward and attacked Alexandria's 
slit, tonguing and licking, sucking and plunging, causing the voluptuous 
girl to moan and cry out almost continuously.  Alexandria tasted different 
than Mignon, more tart, more powerful, though not, by any means, any less 
arousing.  Samantha loved every contact, could not even pretend that she 
didn't.  And when the bigger girl came, it was with a violence and force 
that was greater even than Mignon.



"Oh.... Goddddddddd," Alexandria moaned as Samantha sucked her clitoris and 
plunged her fingers in and out of her.  "Yes, yes, yessssssss!"



She rose completely off the couch as her orgasm assaulted her.  Her fingers 
clenched at the cushions hard enough to leave marks.  Juices poured out of 
her, soaking Samantha's face, running down her chin and neck, soaking into 
the collar of her shirt.



When she too finally relaxed, Samantha slowly pulled her face free, aware 
that her hair was wet and sticky, that her face was coated with secretions. 
But she'd never felt so good, so alive, so aroused.



"That was... like... like totally awesome," Alexandria said, wiping sweat 
from her brow.  "My God, I had no fuckin' idea."



Samantha simply gave a weak smile, proud of herself, and wanting to touch 
her own crotch quite badly.



"It seems like I had a good idea, didn't I?" Mignon asked.



"Totally," Alexandria agreed dreamily.  "Totally."



"And now, I'm kinda ready for another one," Mignon said.



Samantha looked at her, seeing that she too had removed all of her clothing 
and was sitting with her legs spread wide, her pussy swollen and ready. 
"Another one?"



"Fuckin' aye, lezzy," she said.  She opened her legs a little wider. 
"C'mon.  Get over here and do it.  You know you want to."



And Samantha did want to.  She turned herself around and, a moment later, 
her face was back in Mignon's crotch, eating for all she was worth.



+++++



It went on for the better part of two hours.  Eventually they moved 
upstairs, to Mignon's bedroom.  Samantha took turns eating them out, giving 
them an orgasm with her mouth and then moving on to the next and doing it 
again.  Through it all, neither one of them touched her in any intimate way 
or concerned themselves in any way with her pleasure.  Nor did they touch 
each other, although they seemed to enjoy masturbating themselves while they 
watched the other undergo their turn.  Finally, first Mignon and then 
Alexandria claimed they were too tired to go any further.  Within seconds of 
this, both fell asleep on opposite sides of Mignon's large bed, their 
drunken snores permeating the room.



Samantha, starting to sober up now and feeling doubt, shame, and worry start 
to surface in her mind, watched them for the better part of twenty minutes. 
Finally, unable to take it anymore, she pulled the covers back and sat 
between them, looking at their naked forms, remembering all she'd done to 
pleasure them, feeling the arousal at a fever pitch in her own crotch.  She 
pulled down her panties and touched herself with her left land.  With her 
right, she alternately stroked Alexandria's bare legs and Mignon's bare 
butt.  She came in less than a minute, a sharp, powerful, but strangely 
unsatisfying orgasm.



She pulled her panties back up and lay between them, careful to touch 
neither.  She pulled the covers up and started to drift off immediately, her 
mind troubled and wondering what was going to come tomorrow.



(To be continued... perhaps)

-- 
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