"Ten minutes 'til midnight" Lindie whispered to herself. "I'm closing early tonight."
It had been a slow night at the local tavern where Lindie tended bar. The tourist season was almost over, and late-night customers were quickly becoming a thing of the past. Lindie knew that listening to her customer's problems was part of the job, but that didn't mean she had to like it. She thought they were too cheap to afford a real therapist. Instead, they would spend all night pouring their hearts out until the early hours of the morning. Lindie continued listening, patiently, as long as they continued to pay for drinks.
Men on business trips.
Farmers on hard times.
College boys with girlfriend problems.
Prodigal sons not ready to come home.
She'd seen them all and heard just about every story and every excuse out there.
If they were good guys she'd call them a cab at closing.
If they were trouble, she would never see or hear from them again.
Neither would anyone else.
- - -
Lindie knew she was different around the time she reached puberty. The youngest of three sisters, and almost twenty years younger than the oldest, Lindie was arguably the most attractive.
She maintained good grades without any effort to study. She had been very popular with friends, family, and schoolmates. She was blossoming into a beautiful woman, but she knew something was different about her. She knew something wasn't the same as everyone else. She would never say it was something wrong. Just something... different.
Some of Lindie's friends began having their periods at thirteen years of age. Some at the age of fifteen.
Lindie never started having periods. Ever.
The doctors had no explanation for the strange phenomenon, but said nature would run its course, eventually. One doctor recommended a follow-up visit if she hadn't had her period by sixteen, which was a recommendation she chose to ignore. She was the picture of health to the casual observer, but something about her body wasn't like everyone else's.
Her friends tried to make her feel better by telling her how lucky she was not having to worry about "Aunt Flo" coming to visit, but she knew there was more to it than anyone could imagine.
At fifteen, Lindie stopped going to church. She still believed in God, but started to feel like she didn't belong in the same building as the other worshipers. Her mother was disappointed, but allowed Lindie to stop going with her once she realized the hymns were giving Lindie migraines.
Lindie maintained a light tan every summer, but trips to the beach were becoming less frequent. Her friends thought she was entering a Goth phase, but other than not spending much time in the sun, she acted and looked normal.
At sixteen, Lindie had stopped going to the beach during the day. Her friends wondered if she was afraid of getting skin cancer, but Lindie declined to elaborate. She would still go to bonfire parties at the beach, once the sun went down. She maintained a healthy glow, to the amazement of her friends that spent hours each summer day trying to get the same tone. They wondered where she got the money to spend so much time in the tanning bed, but Lindie had never patronized the local tanning salon.
By the age of seventeen, Lindie was considered the most attractive girl -- and unfortunately the most unusual girl -- in high school. Her relationships with her long-time girlfriends became strained when all of the girls started dating.
Lindie had no trouble finding a boyfriend. Boys were practically drawn to her. Some would even say helplessly drawn to her. Some of the boys were the boyfriends of her girlfriends. Girls she had known since kindergarten began to keep their distance for fear of losing their next boyfriend, or the next to Lindie. They knew it wasn't Lindie's fault. It wasn't like she pranced around like a tease to get their attention. The girls just knew it was something else. Something... different.
Before Lindie graduated from high school, her parents, both in their sixties, passed away within weeks of each other. They both died in their sleep. Her mother, a schoolteacher for twenty-five years, and her father, an expert carpenter for thirty, both died knowing they raised three lovely, smart, and special girls.
Lindie was traumatized by her loss. Her oldest sister was now remarried and getting on with her life. The middle sister was somewhere in Europe on what seemed to be a never-ending vacation. Her parents left her enough money to finish college, but not much else. She knew she'd survive, but for the moment, Lindie felt very alone.
The town being as small as it was, felt Lindie was mature enough to take care of herself after her parents died. The mayor and sheriff knew Lindie's family for years, and thought it would be less traumatic if they let her finish school without having to be pulled from her home and placed in foster care until she was eighteen. Lindie didn't make them regret their decision. On the outside, Lindie was "business as usual." On the inside, she felt more changes coming on than any of her friends would ever experience.
She began dating at the age of eighteen. Her mother had asked her to wait until she was eighteen, even though she knew Lindie's friends had been dating much earlier.
Lindie honored her mother's wish, but when she finally started dating, one would have thought she was making up for lost time. Lindie had a date almost every night of the week -- and sometimes two dates in one night.
To the dismay of the first few dozen boys that dated her, Lindie did not put out. They were lucky just to get a kiss from her -- at least at first. Kissing so many boys taught Lindie how to be an excellent kisser, and for most of the boys, that was enough. More determined young men introduced Lindie to alcohol in its various forms, and Lindie obliged them by drinking like a fish. The odd thing, though, was that Lindie never got drunk. Ever.
Lindie found the female form much more attractive than males, but figured it would be a long time before she pursued another girl. She knew she was already somewhat of an involuntary celebrity because she never had a period (although she tried to fake it once a month by buying tampons at the busiest times). Her avoidance of the sun was putting her on the path to becoming the town outcast. She didn't want to run down that path any faster by coming out as a lesbian or bi-sexual.
As strange as Lindie had become, it didn't stem the flow of boys (and even some older men) wanting to be near her, with her, and inside her. For several months, she had dozens of boys and young men masturbating within minutes of finishing their dates with her. She'd let them feel her breasts and even let them slide a finger or two into her tight pussy, but that was it. She'd grope at their groins through their pants, but if they made any attempt to take their pants off, the date was over.
