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From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} RP Shiny Faces by Rachael Ross (f/f, First, Mast, Rom)
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Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2008 10:10:04 -0400
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Copyright 2006 Rachael Ross all rights reserved
Story Codes: f/f, First, Mast, Rom


Shiny Faces
by Rachael Ross

It was time for my shiny face. That's what Mrs. Elgin called it. And
not just mine, but everyone's. We were salesmen, the bunch of us, boys
and girls. Some of us were as young as five and some as old as
fifteen, and even one boy who was sixteen. He was the old man in our
midst. Most of us were between 8 and 13, but we were older than that
really.

Being an orphan is like that. It makes you old really fast, cynical
and realistic. Even the little kids knew that every day that passed in
the orphanage was a bad thing. Babies get adopted quick, everybody
knows that. Then the toddlers and pre-schoolers, they had okay
chances. Even a 6 or 7 year old had a shot at life, a real life with
parents and everything. Once you hit puberty though, it was all over
but the crying, and by age 12 we were much too old for that. And God
didn't make that many tears anyway.

I was 13 and over the hill by adoption standards. But I put on my
shiny face anyway, because that was all we had. It was all I had. Hope
dies hard, even when you think it's gone, hope can surprise you. I
felt it like a needle in my heart, just a pain, an ache like a sharp
cramp. But I couldn't tell anyone, not least because I knew we all
felt it and nobody wanted to admit it.

"Shiny faces...shiny faces..." Mrs. Elgin was smiling, ever optimistic and
smiling, clapping her hands, telling us exactly how many minutes we
had. She'd been working the adoption road for a long time and her
heart had broken a million times I bet. But she'd had her victories
too and that was what kept her going. For the kids who never went
anywhere, Mrs. Elgin was the only mom they'd ever have. 

We sold ourselves, and sometimes each other. If a couple came in
looking for something in particular, a little girl maybe, or a little
boy, we older kids had our favorites. My own was Kimmie and she was
just 5 years old. Sarah, my best friend who was 12 liked her too, and
if the people coming today wanted a little girl, we'd do whatever we
could to sell them Kimmie. She was our little sister, she was a part
of us, the part that still had a chance, and if she went home it would
be like some of me was going too.

And that was true of anyone really. Anytime one of the kids got
adopted, it gave all of us new life. But Kimmie was my favorite, my
little sister, and if anyone was going to go, I wanted it to be her.
Or me, but I was afraid to think like that, and I didn't have much of
a chance anyway. People didn't want 13 year old girls. They'd miss too
many birthdays, too many Christmas mornings and school pageants and
Halloweens. All that was left when you were 13 was trouble, or so we
thought people thought. And we knew people pretty good.

My shiny face was pretty. Not beautiful, or striking, or stunning.
Those kids didn't get orphaned, just the pretty ones. My face was
clean, scrubbed pink and smiling. I practiced smiling sometimes, we
all did. I had happy smiles, and shy smiles, and even sad smiles,
because no matter what happened you had to smile. None of us were
truly happy though, or ever shy really. You couldn't be shy and sell
yourself, that was impossible, and the older kids taught the little
kids not to be shy. Being shy was a life sentence.

You just had to act shy. We were all good actors.

So I put on my nice dress, the one Mrs. Elgin had given me just for
days like this, all bright with yellow flowers on it, with baby blue
trimmings to match my eyes. A yellow ribbon for my auburn hair, which
wasn't that long, but a little ponytail made me look younger, so I
pulled it back and Sarah tied it for me. I was getting breasts, but I
couldn't do anything about it. They stuck out like sore thumbs, little
mounds to spoil my dress. Some white shoes, a little scuffed, but
clean. No makeup or jewelry or fancy things. That was all of me, 4'10"
tall and 85 pounds of thirteen year old girl for sale.

There were six couples, husbands and wives. Mostly they were young,
people in their late twenties, some in their thirties, and one couple
in their forties. They'd reached some point in their lives where they
could afford a child. Not just with money, but with time and love and
patience and all that stuff that we knew so little about. Some of them
we understood instinctively, they had holes in their lives. Maybe a
child would fill some of them, save their marriage maybe, or give
their lives some new aspect they imagined was lacking. But that was
cynicism, as I understood the word, and we had to ignore it.

Mrs. Elgin gave a little presentation while the couples sat in their
chairs and listened, but mostly looked at us. We were quiet and still,
showing off our good manners and smiling shyly. These people had all
been screened and investigated and interviewed and whatever else was
required to make sure they were both fit and serious enough to adopt a
child. This was their trip to the pet shop and they could pick what
they wanted to bring home. They'd look and leave and think about it
and talk to their wives and husbands and then maybe they'd come back
for a second look, or maybe they'd come back and say 'We want that
one...' and that would be a little victory for Mrs. Elgin and the rest
of us. But most of those couples we'd never see again.

There were a lot of pet shops in the world.

It was easy to figure out what they were looking for. People look at
what they desire, all we had to do was watch the eyes. None of them
were looking at me, although they were too polite not to, but they'd
see me and smile and move on. It was rejection and it hurt, because
that's what rejection does. You don't ever get used to it, no matter
what you want to believe. That was why I needed Kimmie, she was the
part of me that wasn't rejected.

"Good afternoon." It was one of the younger couples, a good looking
man and his wife, and I'd walked up to them as soon as Mrs. Elgin was
done, holding Kimmie's hand. "I'm Mark and this is my wife, Jill."

It was always kind of awkward for them, because they were shopping and
they didn't want to hurt anyone. But I'd seen them looking at Kimmie
and so they couldn't hurt me at all. We had little name tags, but it
was always best to say your name. People better remembered what they
saw if they heard it too.

"I'm Stacy," I smiled my confident smile. "And this is Kimberly. We
call her Kimmie." I looked down at the girl to make sure she was
giving them her shy smile. "Say hi," I whispered, just for their
benefit.

"Hi Kimmie," the man knelt down a little. "How old are you?"

And so it went, I'd stay there for a little while, doing whatever I
could to sell Kimmie, but she was good and practically sold herself. I
just made sure there were no awkward silences, no opportunities for
the couple to look around at anyone else. I told little stories about
Kimmie and how she was smart and funny and the best little girl in the
whole world. But I didn't have to say too much anyway, they liked her
a lot.

But there were other kids and Mrs. Elgin knew the game too, and she
would give us our 10 minutes and then it was someone else's turn. The
wife gave Kimmie a hug though, and offered me a little smile, one of
the hopeful kind that was genuine, because she'd never had to practice
smiling in her life. It was a good sign, I thought, a real good sign
and I told Kimmie how good she'd done as we walked away, heading
towards another prospective buyer, another maybe mommy and daddy for
my little girl.

"Hi there...ah, Stacy," a man said, reading my name tag. It was the
older couple, the man and his wife in their forties, probably late
forties.

I was standing close to Kimmie, watching her talk to another couple,
but they seemed to be looking for a little boy, more than a little
girl. But we were trying. Kimmie was working hard and I was smiling. I
hadn't really expected the other couple to talk to me. I knew they
were there, approaching us. I knew exactly where every couple was,
every second, but I didn't think they'd talk to me and I almost forgot
to smile.

"Hi," I looked at them and did smile. It had been a long time since
I'd tried to sell myself and for just a second there I didn't know
what to say.

"This is Rita, I'm Bill," he nodded as if agreeing with himself.

"Hi," I smiled at the woman, "it's nice to meet you." I offered my
hand, even though I knew some people liked to browse without touching
anything.

"Nice to meet you too, Stacy. My, that's a pretty dress." She was 45 I
decided, and her hand was strong and calloused with short fingernails.
She had a pleasant face, and a healthy body, tanned skin and sensible
short black hair with a little grey in it.

"Thank you," I said, looking down at it. "Mrs. Elgin bought it for my
birthday."

"And how old are you, Stacy?" the man, Bill, asked me.

He was large, like John Wayne maybe, except John Wayne was bigger than
anyone. Bill was just reminded me of him, barrel chested and sort of
leathery, with wrinkled eyes and a strong jaw. He looked uncomfortable
in the slacks and sport coat he was wearing. His hands were big and I
could see little scars and fresh cuts, just the little kind you'd
expect on a farmer. I thought I had them pegged, but I'd been doing
this a long time and these people looked like what they were.

"I'm thirteen. My birthday was a couple months ago, last April," I was
still smiling, all shiny faced just for them. 

These people already knew how old I was, maybe, if they were really
interested in me. Sometimes people came to the orphanage and just
changed their minds right away for some reason, then they'd usually
find one of the older kids to talk to, just to pass enough time so
they could leave without making it look like they were running away.
Thinking about adopting was a lot different than doing it, I supposed.
It frightened some people, just because they'd never gone through it,
like it was the worst thing in the world maybe. But it wasn't, it was
just life.

If they were interested in me, this Bill and Rita, then they might
have already picked me out. We all had our little files, like sales
brochures, with photographs and a little history, nothing too personal
I don't think, but enough to say who we were. People could look
through the files and see if there was a girl or boy they might like
and then meet them on a day like this one. But we couldn't know about
that and it was better that we didn't. It would have meant these
people had expectations and we had to assume they didn't, even though
it was a lie in any case.

Bill and Rita owned a horse ranch, out in the country and it wasn't
hard for me to smile about that. I'd ridden a horse before, just once
on one of the occasional outings we had. It was easy talking to them
and I didn't think they were just killing time and it made me a little
nervous. I'd had talks like this before, when I was younger, but it
had been awhile since anyone had cared enough to spend twenty minutes
with me. It felt good and I was so afraid of that feeling I started
getting a tummy ache.

They left finally, moving on to talk to Sarah, whom Mrs. Elgin was
walking over. I'd had my fair share of time and that was okay. Sarah
was like my sister too and if they didn't like me, maybe they'd like
her. But I really wanted them to like me and that thought, that bit of
hope was so strong I had to go to the bathroom and be sick. I was
throwing up and crying, just a little, but only because I'd been
trying so hard not to want it. When you wanted something and didn't
get it, that just hurt too much, so it was better not to.

I stayed in the bathroom for long time, until Sarah came in.

"Are you okay?" she asked me.

"Yeah," I was washing my mouth out in the sink, catching water in my
cupped hands.

"Did you like those people?" Sarah went into one of the stalls.

"I don't know. I guess so," I shrugged at myself in the mirror. "Did
you?"

"Yeah," Sarah answered from nowhere, like disembodied voice echoing
around me. "You think they'll adopt you?"

That was just what I didn't want to think about and Sarah knew better.
I wondered if she was trying to hurt me, I mean they must have been
comparing us, me and Sarah, maybe just with each other, maybe with
some other girls we didn't know. I didn't answer; I just listened to
Sarah pee and looked at myself in the mirror.

"Kimmie's gonna get adopted," Sarah said, flushing the toilet and
opening the stall door. "I bet you a dollar."

"You better not say that to her!" I said, frowning and then I caught
myself when I saw the look on Sarah's face. "You don't have a dollar
anyway."

"I know, but someday..." she shrugged.

"Yeah someday," I smiled at her and all was forgiven. We'd probably
never see Bill and Rita ever again, but we'd see each other everyday,
so it wasn't going to do anything being mad or jealous or whatever.

"I gotta do homework," Sarah told me. "You wanna come to my room?"

"Yeah, I got homework too," I nodded.

Even though we were orphans we still had to go to school. The girl's
went to St. Agnes, which was just up the street. It was a private
school, but they took us for free I think and sometimes it was okay,
but mostly we stayed by ourselves. We weren't really like the other
kids, the ones who went home everyday and complained about their
parents and brothers and sisters. I had some friends, some of the
girls with families, but not very many. It was like we talked
different languages sometimes, but other times it was alright.

Sarah was my best friend and she was almost 13, just about 6 months
younger than me. She was pretty and very nice, except she said dumb
things sometimes. But that was just because she hadn't been an orphan
very long. Just since she was 7 and so she'd really had to grow up
fast. I'd been an orphan since I was 4 and I remembered having a mom,
sort of, but I didn't remember my dad at all. Maybe I didn't ever have
one, I wasn't sure and Mrs. Elgin wouldn't tell me. But I didn't ask
very often either.

I did my math homework, algebra, and I kind of liked it. I was always
good at math because it had a lot of rules. Once you knew the rules
you could do anything, figure out any problem. It was as far away from
life as anything could get, I figured, because the only rule I knew
for life was that there weren't any. You just lived it and it happened
and you even after something went right or wrong, you couldn't know
the reason. All the answers were right and all the answers were wrong
and I didn't even know what the questions were. Math was a lot easier.

Sarah was doing her English, using her dictionary to look up words and
define them. Sometimes she'd cheat and ask me, but I wasn't very good
at English like that. My vocabulary has always been a small one.

"What's stoic mean?" Sarah asked, she'd pronounced it 'stoyk' and I
shrugged.

"I don't know. Umm...a person who can't fall down?" I grinned because I
liked making up weird definitions that made no sense at all.

"That's what you said turgid was!" Sarah giggled. "And that meant
fancy or fat."

"So um, a turgid stoyk is a fancy person who is so fat he can't fall
over," I laughed.

"Like a weebles!" Sarah laughed too.

"Yeah it's a weebles, put that down," I nodded.

"I'm tired of writing all these stupid words. I never heard anybody
use these words. We should learn the other ones," Sarah dropped her
pencil.

"Like what? We know all the words we hear around here," I laughed at
her and she stuck her tongue out at me.

"I mean like the other words," Sara lowered her voice. "Like fuck.
What's that mean?"

"It's a swear word, it doesn't mean anything," I was speaking softer
too. Mrs. Elgin didn't care for swear words a whole lot.

"Then why's it bad?" Sarah asked me, like I knew about anything.

"Cause it's bad. I don't know, look it up," I shrugged.

"It's not in here, I looked," she gave me a crooked smile.

"Then it's probably not even a real word," I said, going back to my
math.

"Fuck fuck fuck..." Sarah leaned back on her bed, I was sitting on the
floor. "It's gotta be a real word, I heard it a lot."

"Yeah, me too," I said, sort of not thinking about it.

"I bet it means like sex, cause Karen said she saw her parents fuck
once."

"Maybe..." I had too many x's in my parenthesis.

"I wish I could see somebody fuck," Sarah sighed.

"I just wish I had parents," I said, without really thinking about it.

"Hey," Sarah said and then said it again when I didn't look at her
right away. "Hey!"

"What?" I still didn't look, I was almost done.

"You wanna do that stuff some more?" Sarah asked and then I did look
at her.

"We can't," I said. "It's the middle of the day."

"Yeah, but everybody's outside anyway," Sarah licked her lips.
"Please? Just a little?"

She was really pretty sitting there, still wearing her pink dress.
Neither of us had changed clothes. We'd just kicked off our shoes and
Sarah still had her socks on, little white ankle socks with lace
around the tops. She had blonde hair, kind of wavy, not straight, so
the ends curled a little. She just wore it loose on her shoulders.
Sarah had got her first period about a year before and her boobs were
growing too, but real slowly. She just had puffy nipples mostly and
they must have been trying to grow right then because I could see them
poking underneath her dress.

"Tonight, okay? I'll sneak out and..."

"No, come on..." Sarah was smiling the way she did when she really
wanted me to do something. We'd been best friends for almost 5 years
so it wasn't hard.

"Okay, just a little," I looked at the door. We couldn't lock it or
anything, but it was a nice day outside and almost all the kids were
playing in the courtyard behind the orphanage.

We'd started doing this stuff just recently, and mostly it was just
kissing and hugging and stuff. I don't know how exactly, or even why.
We were just friends and we spent a lot of time together, so maybe
everyone did it. What started as innocent touching turned into
something that felt good, and because it felt good we wanted to do it
more, even though maybe we shouldn't. I couldn't pick a day and say
this was when we hugged for the first time, or this is when I kissed
Sarah. It just seemed like we'd always been doing it.

I got up and onto the bed, Sarah tossing her books on the floor with a
soft thump and making room for me to lie down next to her. It was nice
like that, just holding her. I imagined sometimes that this was what a
family must be like, just a soft bed and someone who loved you being
close. I put my arms around her and she nestled against me, smiling
into my face with her bottle green eyes.

We didn't kiss or anything, not at first, we just hugged, lying on our
sides. I moved my hands along her back, the same way she was doing to
me, feeling each other through our pretty dresses. I could feel her
warm breath on my face, we were so close, our noses were almost
touching. My boobs felt swollen, like my dress was too small all of a
sudden and my nipples hurt a little, feeling cold and then hot and
sometimes both. They were trying to grow, the same way they always did
when I was holding Sarah like that.

"Stacy," Sarah whispered and she just wanted to hear my name I think.

"Sarah," I smiled at her and shifted my hips a little, moving one of
my legs between hers. She opened her thighs for me, dropping her foot
behind my calf and I felt her hand going lower, just to the top of my
butt.

I did the same thing and we were giggling softly, pulling each other's
hips and tummies closer. I thought I could feel her puffy pink nipples
through our dresses, pressing against mine and I wished we were naked,
even though we'd never really been naked like this before. We'd always
worn clothes, or at least our nightgowns and panties. It made me
nervous and hot inside to think about what naked might be like.

Sarah kissed me, or maybe I kissed her, it didn't matter. Her lips
were soft, like small tiny pillows and dry on the outside, but inside
she was moist and sweet. We'd learned French kissing together, but we
weren't really good at it, and it tickled sometimes, making us laugh.
But I didn't mind. Other times it was nice and something about the way
the tip of Sarah's tongue would touch me inside always made me shiver.
She'd touch the roof of my mouth, or inside my cheeks sometimes, and
when she found a spot that I liked I'd try to remember it so I could
do it to her too.

I liked the way her teeth felt and I would run my tongue along them,
feeling Sarah hard and sharp before pushing my tongue deeper. We
looked at each other when we kissed, sometimes, and that would make us
smile. Mostly I closed my eyes though and I think Sarah did too. I
reached down as far as I could, feeling her soft round butt through
the pleats in her dress, rubbing her body, pulling Sarah against me as
I pushed my leg against her a little. She liked that, riding my thigh
like it was a bicycle or maybe a horse, because she would start to
move.

Sarah was making soft sounds, the way she did sometimes, and her hips
were moving faster. I kissed her more then, never wanting to stop and
I could feel her fingers pulling at my dress, lifting it up to bunch
up in the small of my back. The air was cool on my thighs, my skin
flushed and hot. Her fingers played along the waistband of my panties,
sliding underneath and making me move my own hips. I found her leg
with my body, with the place between my thighs, and I was rubbing
myself against her, the same way she was rubbing on me.

"Is...this fucking?" Sarah asked me and she was breathing hard and
smiling. Her face was red and her eyes were wide.

"I think so..." I licked my lips. I didn't know what it was. Sometimes
we did this, but just a little, this time it was a lot and I was
panting for air.

"I want to fuck with you," Sarah was saying and hearing those words
from her soft lips was exciting to me for some reason.

"Me too," I nodded, gasping then as Sarah's hand went further, she was
rubbing my butt, her hand inside my panties completely. "I want to
fuck with you too."

We weren't kissing then, just breathing hard and our hips were moving
together, just rocking and grinding sometimes, making us moan or catch
our breath with sharp exhales and hard swallows. I felt a throbbing
between my legs, like nothing I'd ever felt before. It almost hurt,
but it didn't, it was just a good feeling. I was warm all over, but
especially down there, and wet too suddenly. I hadn't realized it, but
now I could feel myself like I'd wet myself, just a little. Not very
much at all, but it wasn't pee either, I knew that.

And then I could feel Sarah's panty covered crotch against my bare
thigh, our skirts had ridden up, slowly but surely, and I could feel
her damp and so hot it was like a furnace against my skin. She was wet
too, just like me, and her eyes were shining and wet I think, but not
like she was crying.

"I...I feel funny, Stacy..." she told me, and her face was changing,
looking happy and worried all at the same time. She was frightened a
little, I thought, and so was I.

"Me too...I feel it down there..." I whispered.

We couldn't stop, whatever it was we were doing, it wasn't letting us
stop at all. My body was moving by itself, rubbing and I squeezed
Sarah's butt hard, pulling her against me. I wanted to be as close as
possible, or even closer than that. I wanted to be inside her somehow,
to share what I was feeling with her, and know what she was feeling
too. I moved a little more, sliding my hips up along her leg, forcing
her crotch further along mine, so that the centers of our pleasure
were closer. I wanted to feel it, that heat between her legs against
mine.

"More..." Stacy swallowed thickly, nodding, and her cheeks were burning
red, her eyes glazed. She knew what I was doing and I think she wanted
it too.

I moved until I felt it, until I was almost completely turned, our
legs scissored so that the crotch of my panty was against hers, our
long dresses covering part of us, and pushed up in other places,
wrinkled and disheveled. We moved together, just rubbing our panties
together, our immature sexes protected and frustrated. It was hot,
incredibly warm down there, and the fire seeped through my tummy, into
my lungs and heart. My blood seemed to burn with it and I had to close
my eyes, fighting to breathe.

Sarah held my leg tightly, pulling me as she pressed herself down,
rocking her hips, rolling her butt and grinding her sex against mine.
I was doing the same thing, unable to do anything else. It had never
been like this before and it was fucking, I was sure. We were fucking
and it was nice and confusing and I felt like balloons were filling me
inside, my body being pushed from the inside out.

"Ohhh...oh ahhh..." Sarah was crying out and I felt her body jerking
suddenly, just as my own began to spasm. It was like a fist was
grabbing me between the legs, the softest, most gentle fist you can
imagine, made of fire and water, grabbing me right there inside and
shaking me. I couldn't think, or talk, or do anything except close my
eyes and hold onto Sarah until it passed. I felt wetness spreading,
like I'd peed myself, but I hadn't. Sarah too was wet and I knew she
was feeling the same thing. My thighs were wet, as were hers and it
was only after several long minutes that our bodies could stop
moving. 

I was tingling all over, but especially down there, and I didn't want
to move. I just laid there on the bed, stroking Sarah slowly, feeling
her body, her wet panty covered sex, still pressed to mine. I didn't
know what had happened. I'd felt good before, but never like that,
never in my life. I had strange thoughts that maybe we'd done
something wrong, like broken something down there, between our legs.
Or maybe I'd got my period suddenly and that thought made me blink.
Could fucking make you have your period? I sat up, almost afraid to
look, and I moved our dresses out of the way.

Sarah's smooth white thighs were wet and so were mine. We'd made a lot
of water or whatever it was. But it wasn't pee and it wasn't our
periods or anything. It was just wet. Sarah's white panties were
soaked through and pulled tight against her so I could see the outline
of her puffy sex. Mine were the same way, my sex all swollen and the
cotton of my panties so tight I could see my slit.

Sarah sat up too, looking down at us and then at me. She was smiling
but her eyes were wet, her flushed cheeks glistening with tears. 

"Are you okay?" I asked, worried suddenly that I'd hurt her maybe.

"Yeah," she smiled and blinked at me. "It felt really good, I don't
know why I was crying."

"Yeah," I nodded. We moved slowly, getting ourselves disentangled.
"I'm really wet."

"I thought you peed on me," Sarah giggled. "But it was like I was
doing it too."

I giggled too and then laughed and we just laid down together, looking
at the ceiling and holding hands.

"That was fucking, right Stacy?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," I licked my lips.

"Okay," she sighed. "I bet getting adopted feels just like that."

"Yeah," I closed my eyes, thinking maybe she was right. 

"Hey, Stacy?" Sarah whispered a few minutes later.

"What?" I turned my head to see her looking at me.

"You wanna adopt me again?" she giggled, squeezing my hand.

"Yeah," I giggled too. "You wanna adopt me some more?"

"Uh huh...Shiny faces!" Sarah imitated Mrs. Elgin softly.

I just kept looking at her, biting my lip and thinking it wasn't so
hard not wanting it. As long as I had Sarah.



End
rache696@yahoo.com

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