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Tags:18 Year Old, Lesbian Sex, Lesbian Teens.
Please consider the preamble for Part 1 as an integral part of this episode. Also, as with most of my work, there is a lot of background and character building in the early stages. For this reason, some aspects of this part will be better understood by reading episodes in sequence.
Angie and Macey plot their revenge on the bully girl Suzanne.
Title: After School Delight: Part 2 — A New Beginning.
The next day at school was completely different for us. Yes, the other girls in class were still irritating, and our form teacher, Miss Pringle was still her usual unobservant self (or perhaps just slow to discipline), even the giggling and whispering and the general tittle tattle was the same, but none of it mattered any more. Instead of sitting next to an awkward, withdrawn, gawky girl who wouldn’t say ‘Boo’ to a goose, Angie was suddenly happy and carefree, radiating a bright and breezy demeanour.
I too felt different. I had always been quiet, although not really bully fodder. Now, however, I felt more in control; prepared to drive a situation rather than just let things happen to me. It was as if we had bonded – not just physically in our sexual coupling, but mentally too. I felt that as long as we were together it didn’t matter what the others said, or did – we could overcome it. I think it was probably because of that, the other girls (our usual tormentors) weren’t getting as much fun out of their pathetic little games, so they sort of lost interest in baiting us.
I didn’t even mind when Angie reached for my hand as we were walking toward the refectory for lunch. Some of the other girls began giving us suspicious looks, but we just ignored them, and within days there were other girls coupling up and openly walking together arm in arm. It seemed we had started a trend. Far from being treated as outcasts for failing to hide our sexuality, we began to feel more like pioneers, paving the way for other like minded individuals to finally come out into the open about their feelings and desires. We even noticed girls from the third, fourth and fifth years doing the same. Apparently, once a taboo is broken then people’s true feelings can be released without fear of retribution.
Shower time after gymnastics on the following Tuesday was still a little awkward at first though, until the straight girls came to realise that those of us who were now openly behaving either gay or bi, weren’t going to suddenly jump on them, or start rutting in the showers (although I wonder if, in truth, some of them might have enjoyed the show). Even Suzanne behaved differently. I noticed her watching us, trying to be discreet, but not doing it well enough to avoid being clocked, and I nodded to Angie to let her know she was under scrutiny.
Angie surprised me though. Instead of hiding, she turned to face Suzanne in the shower, but not quite the same coy way she had done with me. She just stood there, naked and open, not making the slightest attempt to cover herself, nor wash or anything, just standing there staring defiantly at Suzanne as if she was inviting the girl, goading her to do something. It was unnerving, though I have to confess, I felt a little jealous, imagining that Angie might be trying to attract Suzanne in the same way she had proffered to me that she was available. I asked her about it afterwards, during the quiet of our walk home together. We usually walked home together in the days following our initial ‘bonding’ on that Thursday night.
When I asked her she said, “Hmmm… She does have a nice body.”
I was mortified, until she turned to look at me with the most wicked little smirk. “Oh! You bitch!” I squealed, pushing her playfully. I could see she was teasing me, yet still I couldn’t help feeling just a little doubtful. She had flaunted herself to Suzie and the girl hadn’t turned away, seemingly captivated by Angie’s natural perfection. Without her gawky glasses I now saw her as quite a beauty, even when she wasn’t smiling, and when she was wearing ‘nothing but a smile’, she was simply stunning. I could imagine even a gay guy might find it difficult to resist her.
“So, why ‘did’ you do it?” I asked again, more out of curiosity than a probing question borne from jealousy.
“She spent an entire year tormenting me. Longer in fact,” Angie said quietly, a firm resolve in her tone. “Now canlı bahis şirketleri that other girls are showing their twue colours, she’s still afwaid to come out.”
“So leave her ‘in’,” I said, simply.
“Oh no!” she replied determinedly, shaking her head. “She started all of this. She was the cause of more than a year of hell for me. I know she’s gay too.” She stopped and turned to look at me, there in the street, a furious expression on her face, the like of which I had never seen before, and I don’t mind admitting that it gave me quite a chill. If I didn’t already know how gentle and loving Angie really was, I would have turned tail and ran.
“She gwabbed my leg… in the classwoom,” she said.
“I know. You told me.”
“She wan her hand wight up my leg and she gwoped me. She had her fingers almost in my knickers…”
“and… she enjoyed it. I know she did.”
“That’s wight. I looked her in the eyes and she was loving it.” She paused. “I swear it Macey…” she said, gripping my shoulders and turning me to face her. “If we had been alone she would have done it with me. I know she would.”
“How can you be sure?”
Angie laughed, shaking her head slowly. “I’ve been with enough girls to know when someone wants it,” then she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth, suddenly realising that she had inadvertently allowed a very private secret to slip out.
“Oh my God! Macey, I’m so sowy. I didn’t mean…”
I just looked at her in surprise.
“I didn’t get you there last week just to…” She looked horrified. “Honestly, I would never… Not just to… I mean, you know I wanted to, but….” Her gaze dropped to the ground, then back to me again. “You do know what I mean, don’t you?” she asked. She seemed devastated.
“Don’t worry,” I told her, smiling. “I wouldn’t have gone with you if I hadn’t wanted to.” I gave her a comforting hug.
“Are you sure you’re OK with it?” she asked, looking relieved.
“Honestly,” I told her, squeezing her hand. “I loved it. And to tell the truth, I was a bit unsure if I might have been taking advantage of you,” I laughed.
“I know you were my first, but…”
“No!” she interrupted, her voice low and surprised. She stared at me, apparently quite shocked at my revelation.
“No what?” I asked.
“Last week was your first time?”
“With a girl… yes,” I told her. “Why? Wasn’t it obvious?”
“Oh, you ‘have’ to be kidding me!” she exclaimed, emphasising the word.
I just looked at her, dumbfounded.
“But you were…” she seemed lost for words. “It was so…” She gripped my shoulders. “You were so good,” she said quietly, pulling me close and hugging me. “It felt so good.”
“Really?” I said, sounding confused.
“Oh baby, I have never… ever… enjoyed anything as much as I did with you. How did you know how to light me up?”
“I have a little book at home called ‘Lesbian Sex for Dummies’,” I joked.
“Ooohh… Can I bowow it?” she teased.
“I thought you wrote it,” I told her.
We kissed for a moment, right there, out in the street. I was a bit self-conscious about such a blatant display of physical affection in public, but she said, quite rightly, “We’re both over 18. What are they going to do? Tell our mums?”
“I think I’d prefer it if they didn’t tell mine,” I admitted.
“Hmmm… OK,” she conceded, “but I don’t think there would be any point them telling mine.”
“Why not?” I asked, stupidly.
She stopped in her tracks and turned to stare at me, an exasperated expression on her face. “You have MET my mum?” she asked.
“Oh… well… I was being polite,” I said, excusing myself.
“You said it was your first time…” she paused.
“With a girl…”
“But not your first time … ever?”
“No,” I told her.
“So…” she began. I knew what she was going to ask.
“When I was 11, my dad’s friend used to babysit for me when my folks managed a pub back in Ireland.”
“Ohhh…” she said. “I think I can guess.”
“You’d be right,” I told her.
“Did you like it?” she asked.
“Loved it,” I told her, “but my mam found out and put a stop to it. That’s why we moved to England.”
“Oh…” she said, thoughtfully. We walked on, in silence for a while, until she came out with, “My first was my dad.” She probably expected that I would be shocked, but I had guessed, from what she had already revealed to me about him and her sister.
“Thought so,” I said quietly.
“Are we a couple of fweaks, or what?” she laughed, but I could tell it wasn’t a happy laugh. It was a nervous ‘What on earth are we’ sort of laugh.
“I don’t think so Angie,” I told her sincerely. “I think we’ve both done well to come out of it unscathed.”
“Have we?” she asked. She looked dreadfully serious, and I got the feeling there may be an underlying meaning to her question; not really ‘Have we done well,’ but more ‘Have we come out unscathed’. canlı kaçak iddaa I thought it best to let it drop.
We walked on a little way, still hand in hand, until I asked, “What are you going to do then?”
“About what we were talking about.”
“What were we talking about?” she laughed, sounding confused. I’d almost forgotten myself.
“About Suzanne?” we looked at each other, both made the slurping sound of drawing in of saliva, and then feigned a spit to the ground, and laughed.
Her expression changed, as if someone had thrown a switch. The smile fell away, to be replaced by that determined, serious look, as we started walking again. “I think we have thwee choices,” she said calmly. “We can either expose her… publicly… and humiliate her. That’s my favouwite,” she added, smiling brightly as she turned to me, “or… we could enlist her,” she said.
“What do you mean, ‘enlist’?” I asked.
“You know. Enlist! … as in, wecwuit (recruit). Sign up. Enwol.”
“Enrol for what?” I asked.
“Macey. She’s gay. Whether she admits it or not doesn’t change the fact.”
“Yes Macey. We could fuck her,” she smiled.
“Would you really want to do that after all she’s put you through.”
“I’d enjoy it better if she was stwaight and we could force her. That might be a lot of fun.”
I was beginning to see a side of Angie that I hadn’t even imagined there could be.
“If she really is gay,” I suggested, “she would probably enjoy it.”
“Hmmm…” Angie mused, her manner implying that perhaps it wasn’t an ideal punishment after all.
“What’s the other one?” I asked.
“The other one what?”
I sighed. “I do wish you’d concentrate. The other thing we could do?” I asked, in an exasperated tone. “You said there were three things.”
“Oh… that.” I waited. “Just do nothing of course.”
We looked at each other for a moment. “Nah,” we both said, shaking our heads and laughing.
“Do you think she’s pwetty?” Angie asked me, after we had walked a little further.
“Well… She does have a nice bum,” I laughed, suddenly racing off down the street before she could whack me.
We walked on a bit further and I finally plucked up enough courage to eventually ask her, “You know this problem you have… with your ‘R’s?”
“What’s wrong with my arse?” she laughed, turning to look at her backside, jokingly.
“Not your ‘Arse’, silly, your ‘Rrrr’s,” I laughed. “Anyway. It’s gorgeous,” I told her with a smile, giving it a playful pinch.
“Owww,” she cried. “What about it anyway?” she smiled.
“Well… You’re helping me with my Biology. I wondered if I could help you try to get rid of it?”
“Get rid of my arse?” she cried out, grabbing her buttocks and looking horrified.
“Stop it!” I told her. “Be serious. I’m trying to help you.”
“I don’t know. Maybe some regular speech therapy? I could try to help you form the words that give you… pwoblems,” I teased. I was testing the ground, to see if she would mind if I mimic it. She just looked at me sideways.
“I did see a pwofessional speech thewapist for a while.”
“I’d wather not say.”
“It’s OK Angie,” I told her, kindly. “I’m your friend. In fact, I think I’m more than that aren’t I?”
“I suppose you are,” she smiled, coyly.
“You suppose?” I squealed in dismay.
“Of course you are,” she laughed.
“So? … What happened?”
“Please?” I asked.
“My mum…” she stopped to look at me, and swallowed, looking uneasy. She took a deep breath to compose herself. “My mum… fucked her.”
I just stared at her for a moment, unable to think of what to say.
“I knew that would shock you.”
“Oh… No… That’s OK,” I said. “I thought it was something awful,” I joked. She fixed me with a glare for a second until she realised I was joking, then we both burst out laughing again.
We walked on, and every now and then one or other of us would break into giggles. “Your mum fucked your tutor,” I kept repeating, looking down and shaking my head, unable to quite grasp the stupidity of it.
“How did that happen?” I asked at last.
“My mum has… a certain… way with people,” she said at last. “If she wants something,” she paused, “she usually gets it,” Angie told me, quite seriously for a moment.
“So… could I replace your therapist then?” I asked.
“If you think you could cope with my mum too,” she joked.
“I think your mum is nice, I told her.” I thought back to each time I had seen her. She had a pretty face for an older woman, young looking, not unlike Angie’s younger sister Geraldine, and she kept her dark chestnut coloured hair looking nice. It was quite long but she always had it tied back into a pony tail, and it shone, almost sparkling when the light caught it.
Her body was shapely too; at least it appeared to be from what I could make out beneath her unrevealing clothes. canlı kaçak bahis I had tried to picture what she might look like in a slutty dress. ‘Gorgeous I’ll bet’ I had thought. I began to imagine myself with her. I had been for tea at Angie’s a few times now, and each time she had given me a ‘longer-than-necessary’ goodbye hug, every time giving my ear a little kiss and a nip. I felt sure that if it hadn’t been time for me to leave, or if we’d been alone, I might have been letting her do rather more.
“She thinks you’re nice too,” Angie told me, bringing me back to Earth, “so be careful… or you might find there’s more to the job than you can handle,” she added with a smirk.
“You won’t scare me away like that,” I laughed. “So… When shall we start?”
“Tonight if you like,” she smiled.
“How long were your sessions with your proper tutor?” I asked her.
“It was supposed to be a one hour session, two evenings a week…” she began, “but on her third visit, mum…” she hesitated, “well… let’s just say, I went to the loo and came back to find them together. She never came back after that, and we’ve never been able to find anyone to ‘fill the vacancy’,” she said, using her fingers to indicate the quotes. She gave me a sort of pathetic smile.
“There must be someone who would be able to replace her?” I asked.
She let out a dismissive “Hah!” and turned to me. “We twied no end of times, but there aren’t that many speech thewapists awound the local area, and evewy time we found someone and booked them to visit, we would get a call a few days later to say they couldn’t come for some weason.”
“Maybe they had heard what happened with your first tutor, and they were making excuses?”
“Oh, weally? You think?” she mocked.
“Don’t be like that,” I told her, feeling ‘put down’. “I’m only trying to help.”
“Sowy,” Angie said. “I was just feeling a bit of a victim.” She put her arm around my shoulders.
“I know,” I replied, sliding my arm around her waist, and we gave each other a comforting hug.
“Shall we twy two evenings a week then?” she asked, seeming brighter, and clearly quite keen on the idea.
“Oh no. I think you need more than that. I think we should start with an hour every other night, and work up from there.”
” Evewy second night?” she echoed, mildly surprised.
“Weekdays only,” I added.
“And where on earth will we be doing this?”
“Under the covers in your bed,” I giggled.
“Oh you!” she pushed me. “You’re incowigible. I thought you were being sewious,” she said, sounding a bit disappointed.
“I ‘was’ being serious,” I told her, dolefully. “I really do want to help you… if I can.”
“I thought you just wanted to fuck me,” she smirked.
“Well… that too,” and we both laughed.
We got to my house and went in the back way as I called to my mam that I was home. “Hello Mrs W****,” Angie called.
“Hello dears,” my mam called back.
“We’re just going upstairs to make a start on some homework,” I said, running into the kitchen to give her a quick kiss.
“OK honey,” she called back as we headed for the stairs. “Don’t get too involved in anything you can’t leave,” she called. “Your food won’t be long.”
As soon as we got to my room we immediately fell into each other’s arms, collapsing onto the bed and losing ourselves in a shroud of calm but intense loving.
“I like this sort of homework,” I whispered, as her fingers played idly with my stiffening nipples.
“Me too,” she smiled, as mine found their way inside her knickers.
We kissed and kissed, Angie using her formidable skills in cat-washing my face as my fingers probed her as deep as I could reach. She always looked so beautiful when she was stretched out on her back, moaning with pleasure as I tried my utmost to give her a better time than the last. I dearly wanted to take her knickers off and do the job properly, but my mam had clearly said not to get involved in anything we couldn’t leave, so being a good girl, I resisted.
Twenty minutes and several hundred kisses later, my mam was calling us for tea. We took a minute to clean each other’s fingers, between more kisses, then went downstairs. Mam had made us a lasagne with chips and beans. We didn’t take long to eat it up, then back upstairs for some more serious ‘homework’.
During the past week, since my first episode with Angie, we had worked out a makeshift routine where we each went to have tea with the other on alternate days. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday I would go to hers, and the other days she would come to mine. Our respective mums were fairly happy about it too. It meant that they didn’t have to get food ready for us every night, and as it was summer, the evenings were light so there wasn’t any danger from having to walk home in the dark, if we left early enough. Not like that first time when I left Angie’s house quite late. I had already stayed too long, then Ges had stopped me and… well, let’s just say that I didn’t feel comfortable with telling anyone about it; certainly not Angie anyway – leastways, not yet. ‘Ges is such a randy little thing,’ I thought to myself, and I smiled as my thoughts drifted back to almost fifteen minutes of quite intense ‘homework’ with her, in the darkness of their back alley.