Jessica Ann Ch. 01

Amateur

Chapter 1, My Summer of Firsts

Janelle was helping me pack up the remaining items in the apartment when she came across a photo of me, my sister Amy and our friend Allison. I gazed at the photo and fondly remembered the events of nine years ago. We were standing with our arms around each other in front of the swimming pool in my backyard.

But, it was Amy’s grinning face that brought tears to my eyes; I sorely missed her. Janelle saw my eyes were edged with tears and gave me a reassuring hug. My Dad appeared in the doorway and I turned away so he wouldn’t see my eyes.

With my face downcast, I embraced him but my Dad gently lifted my chin with his hand and saw the tears.

“Why are you crying?” he asked with parental worry and I showed him the picture.

My Father was not a sentimental person but the sight of Amy in the photo caused him to sob out loud. I held him tightly and cried along with him.

As my Father was taking some boxes to the truck, I sat in one of the remaining chairs and recalled the life changing events that preceded the photo. In my mind, I saw the snow covered trails of Vail Mountain and…

ONE:

Amy’s skis kicked up a mini snow storm with every turn as I followed my sister down the intermediate terrain on Vail’s Back Bowl area. A powdery blanket of new snow covered the slopes and our early arrival meant that crowds were temporarily at a minimum.

By 11am the fresh snow was trampled by endless ski tracks and Amy wanted to warm up in the lodge. After several hot chocolates, I wanted to tackle a black diamond trail off the summit.

“I’ll stick to intermediate trails.” Amy stated firmly.

“Please Amy” I begged in a little girl voice and she regarded me with a sour expression.

“Ok” she sighed with the resignation of an older and wiser sister.

As we sat on the chair lift on our way to the summit, Amy voiced her concern and emphatically reminded me to traverse across the mountain in long “S” loop turns to keep my speed in check.

After we exited the chair lift, I kept a safe distance behind my sister as she conservatively skied over the nearly vertical terrain. But, less than half way down, I grew impatient with her “senior citizen” pace and skied ahead. I shortened my “S” turns and picked up speed but much faster than I was prepared to handle.

As I hurtled faster down the mountain, I tried lengthening my turns but lost control and fell to avoid going off the trail. It seemed as though I was tumbling in slow motion and real time reestablished itself when I came to a stop.

When I tried to move my right arm and leg, searing pain shot thru my body. I heard Amy screaming my name and saw her panic filled face when she stopped next to me.

“Jessica! Are you alright! She yelled.

“I think I broke something” I groaned.

“Don’t move! I’m going to find the Ski Patrol.” She said in a loud and concern filled voice.

I cried out in agony when the Patrol rolled me onto the sled/stretcher and strapped me in tight. Amy was sniffing and her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Dad’s gonna meet us at the medical center.” She stated in a breaking voice.

It was twelve noon on the first day of my long anticipated ski weekend over the Presidents Day holiday and my vacation was over. At the center, someone pushed a needle into my arm and my recollection of the next twenty four hours was hazy.

I recall hearing voices and the words fracture and knee. When I woke, I saw my Dad’s very worried looking face.

“Hi Dad.” I said in a light drug induced tone and he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek.

He described the extent of my injuries and it wasn’t pretty. My right wrist was fractured and I sustained right knee ligament tears along with a right leg fracture.

“You’re going to be here for the next week, maybe more.” He said sadly.

My Father was explaining some of the procedures necessary to stabilize my leg, when I fell back to sleep. For the next two or three days, I was in and out of the conscious world.

During that time, an operation to repair my knee and place pins in my leg was performed. Slowly I was weaned off the pain medication and my journey back to reality was filled with hurt. As my rehab therapy started, my first tentative steps were blindingly painful.

Less than a week after my fall, my Father was sitting next to me in the hospital room and I was whimpering from the pain. But, he had that lecture look on his face.

“Jessica Ann, what were you thinking!?” he questioned angrily.

He always called me Jessica Ann when he was angry with me.

“I’m sorry” I cried with sorrow and the tears came unrelentingly.

However, the tears didn’t soften his mood because he was well acquainted with my “crying apologies” during his reprimands.

“You’re swimming career is in jeopardy and may be over unless your leg responds to a rigorous rehabilitation schedule. He said with the same anger.

Now I was weeping in earnest and he hugged escort izmit me with a parent’s unquestioning love. I was one of the best swimmers on my high school team and we were in first place at the end of the regular season.

“You’re sister is blaming herself for your injuries.” He said strongly.

“It was my fault Dad” I sobbed and saw Amy crying along with me.

Amy hugged me with sisterly concern as I cried my heart out.

Back home in California, my road to rehabilitation was long and arduous. Because I was in my senior year of high school, a school district tutor was assigned to me for six hours a day Monday thru Friday. However, two weeks later I was able to return to classroom instruction on crutches.

I attended some of the meets but my teammates lost in the district quarter finals. I was angry and frustrated with myself for my stupid behavior on the slopes. My lack of good judgment probably cost my team a berth in the state finals.

My senior year of high school was ending on a dramatic downbeat and I went dateless and on crutches to my senior prom. I was hoping to be crutch free by graduation and limped to the podium to accept my diploma.

With my acceptance to State U. partially based on my swimming ability, I started my own rehab program at home. My father had a pool installed in our backyard when Amy was in 10th grade and it saw a lot of use over the years.

I had floundered in school sports until I discovered I had some talent for swimming. By my senior year, our team was considered one of the top ten among California high schools.

My eighteenth birthday on June 15th was very subdued and I really didn’t feel like celebrating. With a few friends and family at my home, I solemnly blew out the candles on my cake.

I spent the week swimming laps in the pool for two hours a day; one hour in the morning and one hour in the late afternoon. Initially my right leg and arm prickled with pain and I was forced to take leisurely but slow strokes. When I pulled my Speedo on after four months of swimming inactivity, it felt snug; too snug.

When I looked at myself in the mirror, my lean and athletic body had softened and evolved into a curvier and more feminine look. My breasts looked fuller and more pointed. My legs still retained their muscular look but with slightly larger hips. But, the sight of the scars from the operations to my knee and leg bothered me a great deal.

At first I was upset with the changes but realized I had experienced a growth spurt the past few months. One fact was certain, I looked a lot more grown up.

With spirited resolve, I maintained my two hours a day swimming laps in the pool. My sister’s friend Allison lived next door and periodically appeared for a swim or to chat with Amy.

It was unusually hot for early summer and I started wearing a bikini bottom and no top for my pool laps. With our gated and high security fence, our pool was private. However, one afternoon my Dad caught me and he was livid.

“Jessica Ann! Where is your top?” He yelled with an irate voice.

Funny, but I failed to remember him ever calling Amy, Amy Elizabeth.

I promised to wear my Speedo when I practiced laps. But, secretly I kept wearing only the bottoms for my morning practice because he left for work long before I started.

One morning I was finishing my laps when I heard the back gate open. I swam to the side of the pool and saw Allison walking onto the pool deck. I waved and climbed up the pool ladder in front of her.

With water dripping off my braless tits, I felt Allison’s hot gaze as she looked me up and down. Although it made me feel uncomfortable, I was mildly fascinated by her reaction. I reached for my towel and wrapped it around my upper body.

When I told Allison that Amy was working until noon, she made no attempt to leave. This went on for a week or better with her appearance during my topless morning swim. She would watch me until I finished and then talk idle chit chat for awhile.

I was smart enough to know that Allison wanted something or she wouldn’t be staring. I was inexperienced with sexual matters and except for kissing a few boys at parties, was a virgin from the neck down. My involvement and dedication with swimming occupied most of my time until I was injured.

One morning I decided not to cover up and she brazenly gawked at my tits. I got a tingly and warm feeling in my pussy and after she left, I noticed my bottoms were damp.

I knew about same sex hook ups on the swim team but never paid much attention to them. On my computer, I went to the internet looking for websites with lesbian content and my eyes were glued to the screen.

The pictures of girls sucking each others tits and pussies had me squirming in my chair. Before I realized it, I was fingering my moist slit to orgasm.

I found lesbian story websites and was intrigued by the ones dealing with seduction. After a few days of Allison ogling my breasts and surfing the lesbian porn sites, I was masturbating on a daily izmit escort basis.

I discovered one excitingly explicit site and while I was in the shower stroking myself like crazy, Amy came home from her part time job. She must have heard my moans and when I turned around, saw her looking at me thru the glass doors.

“Having fun?” She questioned with a sly tone.

I tried to cover up and Amy handed me a towel as I exited the shower. I was mortified but my sister asked me if I wanted to talk about it. When I was fourteen, we had the “Birds and the Bees” discussion several times until I knew by heart the concept and consequences of sex.

When our Mom died seven years ago, she became a surrogate mother to me as well as big sister. Despite the three year age difference, she assumed the role with the same love, care and devotion. However, I was a mischievous kid until puberty reared its ugly head and I became a moody bitch. Thankfully, Amy was a compassionate person because I tested her patience on many an occasion.

My Father was stern but forgiving, especially after my mothers death. When he caught me doing something naughty, he would loudly call me by my first and second name, Jessica Ann, then pronounce my sentence. With his anti corporeal punishment stance, I was grounded to my bedroom with the loss of computer privileges.

I was blushing deep red from having been caught “red handed” in the shower and although I had been masturbating since the age of fifteen, it was usually an occasional, late night, and in bed affair.

Amy had always stressed the importance of discussing anything and everything without fear of repercussions. Except for my Dad, Amy was the one person who I trusted implicitly. I hemmed and hawed for a few minutes then told her about Allison and the porn sites.

“I don’t really understand why another girl would be interested in my breasts.” I said with total sincerity.

Amy cleared her throat.

“I think she’s interested in your boobs and MORE.” Amy stated knowingly.

At first I was confused by her comment but when I remembered the explicit photos on the web, I was shocked.

“You mean…” I said and pointed to my crotch at the same time.

Although I had seen the pictures and read the stories, I never equated them with Allison’s desire.

“Oh, I’m sure she’s interested.” Amy said with conviction and explained how she had several bi encounters with Allison.

My face must have registered total shock because Amy seemed amused by my reaction.

“Why me? I asked in a searching tone of voice.

“My dear sister, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? You’re a real hottie.” She stated more than asked me.

Amy told me that my latest growth spurt was probably my last but it worked wonders for my feminine look. My breasts had swelled to a 34 B/C and instead of the sparse hairs above my slit, I had a full dark blonde bush.

I admitted to Amy that I enjoyed the websites and Allison’s stares.

“Does that make me a lezbo.” I asked with trepidation.

“Were you bi curious before this?” She questioned.

“No, I was always so busy with swimming and practices, anyway, I think I like guys.” I voiced with anxiety.

“I don’t believe you’re a lezbo but you’re bi curious for sure.” Amy said with conviction.

I must have looked overly concerned because Amy put her hands on my shoulders and gazed into my eyes.

“The feelings you’re experiencing have a way of sorting themselves out. I’ve had bi encounters with Allison and other women. I don’t consider myself a lesbian but I’m clearly bi sexual.” She stated in a reassuring voice.

“I’m going to make some lunch. If you want to take care of ‘unfinished business’, I’ll leave yours in the ice box.” She remarked and walked out of the bathroom.

Although I wanted to finish what I was doing in the shower, I couldn’t help but feel incredibly naïve and wondered how many of my friends had similar experiences. I quickly dressed in a sports T and shorts. Amy’s explanations had helped clear up some questions that were bothering me.

While Amy mixed the tuna, mayo and celery in a bowl, I toasted some whole wheat bread.

“Amy, what should I do about Allison?” I asked with unease.

“That’s entirely up to you but I don’t think she’ll need much prodding.” She stated.

The next morning as I was lying in bed, the images from the web and Allison’s stares had my pussy creaming. Even though I was apprehensive, I wanted to experience the touch of another person.

The problem was how to initiate the contact with Allison. I remembered a seduction story I read on the internet and set my plan in motion. I chose a bikini from last summer and the cloth on the top barely covered my nipples.

When Allison showed up I was finishing my last lap. On cue, I climbed out of the pool and she scrutinized my boobs with a lustful look. When I put my bikini top on, her face carried a look of dismay.

With as much acting skill as I could muster, izmit kendi evi olan escort I fussed with the bikini top.

“This top doesn’t feel right. I think it’s too small. What do you think?” I remarked with fake distress and turned around for Allison’s inspection.

“Looks a little small to me.” She said in a wavering voice and her eyes never left my tits.

“I should probably measure my breasts before I buy a new bikini.” I said with as much conviction as I could muster.

“Would you help me Allison?” I asked with innocent pleading and she nodded her head in compliance with my request.

Allison followed me into the kitchen where I retrieved the tape measure in a drawer. I was facing her when I reached around to unclasp the top and suddenly grabbed my shoulder in faux pain.

“I think I strained it swimming laps today. Do you mind doing it?” I asked innocently and presented my back to her.

Her hands must have been shaking because she was fumbling with the clasp. Finally I felt it release and as I turned to face her the top eased down my arms and off. My nipples were hardening and with her eyes glued to my chest, handed her the tape measure.

Now I clearly saw Allison’s hands were trembling and as I raised my arms, I put them on my head giving her unrestricted access. With her quaking hands, she managed to get the tape measure around my back and the ends in the front.

Allison brought the ends together under my boobs and read the measurement.

“34 inches.” She stated in a wobbly voice.

My nipples were as hard as bullets and jutted out from my chest. I ached for Allison’s touch.

“B or C cup?” I asked with my innocent voice.

It was almost pitiable the way Allison was leering at my tits but I sensed that she was having an internal struggle with herself. After all, I was Amy’s “little” sister. Luckily, her lust won out and as she cupped my breasts, she lightly thumbed the straining nips.

The feeling was beyond description and as it ignited a fire in my loins, I thrust a hand into my bottoms. I was swept away on a rush of new feelings that coursed thru my body. My knees started to buckle and with Allison supporting me, sat in a chair.

Allison knelt before me and palmed, tweaked and rolled my nipples until I was gasping. With my hand vigorously fingering my drooling gash, I watched entranced as she lowered her mouth to my tit.

I groaned out loud as Allison relentlessly tongued my nipples and little shock waves of sensation pulsed into my pussy. When her mouth ravenously sucked my rigid nips, I thrust a finger into my sopping wet hole.

As I panted in stormy blasts, my orgasm burst with intense force. I howled like a coyote and mashed my hand on my pulsating clit. Never in my young life had I experienced something so sexually charged.

“OH! OH! Fuck! I screamed.

As my breathing returned to normal, Allison gently kissed my nipples then got up and left. I was sprawled on the chair and must have looked like a disheveled mess.

Later, I fingered myself to another dandy orgasm as I recalled my encounter with Allison. Naked as a jaybird, I fell on my bed and went to sleep.

I woke to the sound of someone calling my name. Sleepily, I looked in the direction of the sound and saw Amy smiling at me.

“Hi.” I said in a dreamy voice.

Amy was regarding me with amusement.

“Dinner’ll be ready soon.” She stated

“Ok, but do I have time to shower?” I asked drowsily.

“Yes. By the way, what did you do today?” she asked in a humorous tone.

I’m sure my face turned several shades of red and without my saying a word, she knew.

In the shower, my body tingled with excitement as I remembered the way Allison tongued and sucked my breasts. I was hot to find out just how far she would go.

Amy and I chattered away at dinner as my father ate in silence. By now he was used to our incessant babbling and added something if he thought it was necessary. As I was talking with Amy, she appeared to have a tired look.

“Are you Ok, you look tired?” I questioned with concern.

“Yeah, I guess a little.” She answered honestly and we went on to a new topic.

TWO: Allison was a no show the next two days and I was beginning to wonder if she regretted her actions. Despite my Catholic upbringing and a minor twinge of guilt, I absolutely relished the experience and was impatient for it to happen again.

Allison finally showed and after I finished my laps invited her into the house. In the kitchen, I stood facing her as a wet sheen covered my partially nude body. Without uttering a word, her hands were on my boobs and I moaned passionately.

For the next week, Allison seemed content to fondle and suckle my tits as I fingered myself to orgasm. Her gaze never ventured “south of the border” and I was frustrated because I craved more.

Allison’s family went on vacation the following week and I masturbated every day in her absence but, without her working away on my tits, it was a lot less satisfying.

I brainstormed on how to get her head or hand between my thighs and after I read a few more seduction stories, it hit me. I simply had to take my bottoms off and her gaze would certainly be drawn there.

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