FF, SC

Greetings and thanks for checking out my stories.   The following work is  under construction.   I have been blessed/cursed with ADHD and find it extremely difficult to focus on writing or anything else for more than 15 minutes.  This translates to roughly 10 words per sitting which is why it takes me so long to finish.
 
My work is entirely fiction and  intended as adult entertainment.   If you are under-aged, please exit this site.  

 I don't include children in my erotic work and I don't write for children.  R/S

                                          Rose in Bloom

Rose awoke with a start.  Momentarily confused,  she blinked a few times and wiped the drying saliva from around her mouth.  She was aware of giggling from behind her then realized she was in class.  Glancing around furtively, she attempted to re-orient herself.   "Spanish class,  Mrs. Ramirez, uh, last period, thank God."  

There didn't seem to be any amused gazes or fingers pointed her way.   She was relieved that she hadn't managed to become the class focal point by her snoozing.  She felt a hand touch her shoulder.  Turning her head to acknowledge Leah, she heard the whisper, "late night, Rosy"?  Rose nodded.  She then pondered the question, wondering if this was indeed the cause of her apparent drowsiness.   

What had happened last night?  Strangely, she drew a blank.  Rose frequently indulged in very detailed, erotic fantasy scenarios which, though time consuming, had never resulted in memory lapses.   She thought through the events leading up to where she drew a blank.   "I saw Marcie at the park after school.  I remember being excited cause I'd missed her in P.E.   What happened then?"    They had talked awhile.  Then Marcie had kissed her.  Rose had eagerly met the kiss but then felt embarrassed, the park being very public.  Rose had no clear recollection following this.  There were a multitude of images, like a movie played fast forward.   This made no sense to her so  Rose made the decision to let it go.  

She began listening to Mrs. Ramirez, who was reciting Spanish verbs ad-nauseam, seemingly oblivious to the lack of interest displayed by most of the students.  Rose had often considered the attractive teacher for a participant in one of her private fantasy plays.  She studied the woman's physique.  Rose guessed that she was in her late thirties, possibly forty.  She had always assumed that she was of Hispanic heritage, though her skin tone was exceptionally dark.   Rose  squinted her eyes,  visualizing the woman wearing nothing but a white bra and panties. 

When fantasizing,  her taste in underwear was specific.   Rose loved vintage lingerie .  She had a photo collection of vintage lingerie models gathered from the Internet.   Her movie idols were Dorothy Lamour,  Betty Grable and Greta Garbo.  The fascination with these women had sparked her interest in lingerie of those time periods.  She particularly liked Greta Garbo and felt something of a kinship with her.  She knew that the actress had been a lesbian.  In addition,  she had strived to live a private life. "I just want to be left alone",  was a statement made by the star.   Though the comment had been misunderstood and misquoted by the press,   Rose found it endearing and it intensified her fascination. 

These thoughts were passing through Rose's mind while she watched her Spanish teacher's body, still clad in bra and panties.  She noticed that Mrs Ramirez was facing her.  Shifting her gaze to meet the teacher's,  Rose realized with horror that she was speaking to her.   She was  nudged from behind before responding.  "Pardon?"  The dark,  almost black eyes penetrated her.  Had she noticed Rose's salacious gaze?  

"I asked if you were feeling OK.  You look very flushed." 
Rose swallowed then managed to respond,  "I'm OK.  It's kind of hot in here...isn't it?"  She looked around quickly for confirmation.  There was none.
  
"Perhaps you should visit the nurse."   Rose had to will her gaze to remain on the teachers face.    Her eyes seemed soft and inviting,   imploring Rose to continue her observations.  
She heard herself reply, "I'm sure I'll be fine, thank you."  The teacher held her gaze for what seemed like forever.   Rose wondered if she was communicating something besides normal concern.  She dismissed this as her lascivious and overactive imagination.   The teacher finally broke eye contact and returned to the front of the class.   As she walked, Rose's eyes were fixed on the dark strip between her hips.   "God",  Rose thought, what an ass. 

There was another nudge from behind.  "You bad, bad girl.  You should be ashamed."

Rose's face felt on fire.  "Wh what for?" She replied,  feeling her throat tighten.

"You wrote on your Spanish book,"  Leah said.
"Oh, yeah I know, aren't I terrible?" Rose replied, breathing a sigh of relief.  She looked down at her artwork,  plainly visible in purple marker.  It was an indication of endless hours spent daydreaming during previous Spanish classes.  

Leah's flirtation's inspired Rose to reply with similar coyness.   She turned and whispered,  "do you think I should be punished."?  

There was a pause,  then a whispered reply,  "absolutely you filthy slut".  Rose covered her mouth to suppress a giggle.   This was typical repartee for her and Leah.   Leah was straight,  but she got a kick out of acting otherwise.   She knew that Rose was a lesbian and totally accepted her.  Leah was one of a kind and Rose adored her.  Typically,  Rose shied away from friendships with straight girls.  She tended to become emotionally involved easily and feared that she might have difficulty maintaining the boundaries necessary for such a 
relationship.  Things were different with Leah, however.  

Though she was very cute in a cuddly sort of way,  Rose had never been attracted to her sexually.  Rose had considered the reason for this and decided that Leah was the closest thing she had to a sister.  One of the things that Rose loved about Leah was that she genuinely did not care what people thought about her.  This was apparent in her playful behavior with Rose.   Whether in class or other public place,  her behavior was unpredictable.   She sometimes flirted overtly with Rose,  using very colorful terms.   Once when standing in the cafeteria line,   Leah had paused in the middle of a sentence to take Rose in her arms and kiss her full on the lips.   Leah then resumed her conversation, oblivious to the resulting commotion.   Rose had stood with her mouth agape for a moment before bursting into laughter.  

Initially,  Rose wasn't sure how to take Leah.  However, her curiosity was sparked enough for further exploration.   She discovered that Leah's parents had been legitimate hippies,  having met in the Haight Ashbury area of San Francisco during the late sixties.  In addition to the broadminded attitudes about sex, drugs and spirituality,  Leah had adopted the elemental philosophy of that generation; fuck the establishment!  Above all be yourself and don't follow anyone.  Leah loved to shock people.  She invited confrontation.  Though her actions at times embarrassed Rose,  she secretly admired Leah, wishing that she had just a little of her nerve.

Returning her attention to class,  Rose noticed that Mrs. Ramirez had managed a lingerie change, having traded the whites for a deep burgundy.  She found the contrast delightful, based on the warm dampness suddenly occurring between her legs.  Rose was about to relax and ease into a tasty fantasy when the buzzer pierced her reverie.  Grabbing her belongings, she joined the throng of escaping students.   

Rose stood in front of her locker,  trying in vain to recall the combination to the lock.  This was ridiculous!   She had used the same locker since the ninth grade.  Lately, her mind seemed to be on vacation much of the time.   She was aware of an odd phenomenon which had began a few months ago.  At times, it was as if she were another person,  watching her body from outside herself.  When in this state,  she was only an observer.   She neither controlled nor took responsibility for Rose's actions.  

"Seventeen, fourteen, three"  came a voice from her right. 

"Huh?   Oh, thanks,  Judy."  She quickly spun the dial to the correct numbers.    She jerked the handle up and the door flew open.  

"Rosy, your such a ditz.  What would you do without me?"  Judy's locker was on the other side of the one next to Rose.  

"I dunno Ju Ju.  Guess I'd be sleeping alone."  She was teasing her.  Judy was another  friend Rose had known for years.  

Rose tossed her books onto the upper shelf.   It was lunch time but she didn't feel hungry.  She waited while Judy fumbled with something in her locker.   Pretending to be busying herself,  Rose studied Judy furtively from two lockers away and slightly behind her.   

Judy was from Nigeria,  having moved to the states when she was ten.   She had the darkest complexion Rose had ever seen.  Rose found women with dark skin very erotic.  She thought that this might be because her own skin tone was so light.   Her whole family was fair skinned with blue eyes and brownish blond hair.   How boring was that?  Judy wasn't  beautiful, or even especially pretty from a traditional standpoint.   She was about 30 pounds overweight, with the additional pounds in her breasts and rear end.  However,  there was something about her that Rose found sexually irresistible.  Rose was uncertain of Judy's sexual orientation, though she assumed she was straight.  
    
It occurred to Rose that the women she found most desirable were not lesbians.  The exceptions to this were Garbo and Marcie.  There was something about a girl being unavailable that made them sexier.  Also, the lesbians that she knew seemed to lack the femininity that Rose found so appealing. 
 
She knew that she defied the lesbian stereotype.   She had never enjoyed sports or guy stuff.   Her tastes in clothing were strictly feminine and generally vintage.  She loved frills and lace, though these were no longer fashionable.  She often believed that she had been born 40 years too late.  

Rose realized she had been standing in front of her open locker for several minutes.  This was her lunch period and thirty minutes went fast.  Checking the large clock at the end of the hall, she saw that 10 minutes had swept by.  She slammed her locker shut and hurried down the hall to the cafeteria.  

Rose stopped at the restroom to wash her hands and check her hair and makeup.  The odor hit her even before entering.   She slowly pushed open the door and held it as it closed noiselessly.   The smell of shit was so intense that Rose reached to pinch her nostrils shut without thinking.  She then withdrew her hand, welcoming the scent.  It quickly penetrated her senses and seeped into a deeper part of her being.   She was aware of a disconnected feeling, then of a change in her perspective. 

 The scene in the girls restroom was familiar, though the images seemed to have a dreamlike quality.  Peering through what seemed like a mist,  Rose saw a pair of jean clad legs protruding beneath a stall door.  .   

Feeling as if she were floating just above her body, she watched herself move toward the stall.  Reaching the door,  she knocked softly.  From her vantage point,  Rose didn't hear a response.  She saw her lips move and utter something.  A moment later,  she watched herself reach into her pocket and withdraw some money.  She then handed the money to the owner of the jean clad legs who was reaching underneath the door.  The hand taking the money was dark skinned.

Rose watched as the door swung open.  She looked around furtively and slipped into the stall.  She realized that she had re-joined her body. Judy sat on the toilet,  a questioning look on her face.  "I can't believe your serious Rosy.  This has to be a joke."  

Rose shook her head and stated solemnly, "no joke". 

Judy giggled nervously,  then said,  "why are you doing this?  You're giving me twenty dollars to let you clean me...with your tongue?  I've never heard of such a thing,  and I thought girls were crazy back home!  Are you sure you want to do this,  I mean,  I just dropped some serious chow down there and I'm not exactly what you would call fresh as a daisy."  

With the same flat, determined tone, Rose replied,  "Judy,  I know you don't understand this but I have dreams about doing this to you." 

Judy emitted another giggle,  "no way!"  Rose nodded, "way girl, now get that fine nasty ass up and turn around."

The expression on Judy's face was one of incredulity though excitement.  "I've never even kissed a girl.  Does this count as making love?"  

Rose smiled ruefully,  "just think of me as fine quality toilet paper.  You can call me charmin."

Judy reached out and took Rose's hand.  Rose helped her up from the toilet and turned her around carefully.  "Put your hands against the wall there.  Now spread your legs.  Good."  
Rose dropped to her knees, then realizing that she was too high, she sat on the floor.   She scooted forward between Judy's legs, her face level with the black girls dark crack.  

The smell issuing forth was more than pungent.  "What had she gotten herself into?   The odor was overpowering,  worse than she had ever smelled in the girls locker room.  This was even worse than Marcie's diarrhea!" 

 She looked at the girl's ass.  There didn't seem to any skin that wasn't coated with shit!  How was that possible?  And I'm actually paying for this?"  Judy spoke. "Are you Ok Rosy?  You don't have to do it.  I know it must be really gross." 

 That settled it.  She was going for it.  Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath,  Rose opened her mouth and pressed her tongue against the girl's right cheek.  The first taste nearly gagged her but she began long licks up and down Judy's rotund ass.  The girl jumped at the feel of Rose's tongue.  Rose heard her breathing become heavy,  her voice at times making kind of a whimpering noise.  It was obvious she was getting into it but trying very hard to keep it together.

Rose was not unfamiliar with the taste of shit.  Her first experience with it had been in her own bathroom at home.  She had gobbled down one of her own turds without a second thought.  The second time had been with Marcie.  That entire experience now seemed unreal.  When she tried to recall details,  her mind became hazy. 

Opening her eyes, she realized that the girls cheeks were clean, glistening with her saliva.  "Now for the dessert."  Rose thought.  Taking another deep breath,  She plunged her face and tongue into the deep, dark crack of this girl from deep, dark Africa.  This peculiar thought passed through her mind and elevated her lust as she eagerly lapped the girls waste from between her cheeks.

Rose found the taste every bit as pungent as the smell but was so consumed with the depravity of her actions that the thought of stopping never entered her mind.  She spread Judy's cheeks with her hands and pressed her face deep into the putrid gap.  The girls sizable ass engulfed Rose's face and most of her head.  She licked and sucked voraciously,  her mind having departed the vicinity.

Suddenly, Rose felt a hand on the back of her head.  "Rosy, baby, that was the end of lunch bell.  People will start coming in the restroom."  

Rose pulled back, feeling disoriented. "Huh, what?"  Judy whispered, "We need to get to class.  That was incredible.  I feel so clean and fresh now.  Thanks... Charmin."