(Author's note: I find it difficult writing the female perspective in first person, so this chapter will be from Amy's point of view but told in the third person. It picks up immediately after chapter 1.
ALL CHARACTERS DESCRIBED IN ANY TYPE OF SEXUAL SITUATION ARE AT LEAST 18 YEARS OF AGE.)
-----------------------------------------------------
Amy walked quietly and calmly past her parents and the rest of the party guests and into the house.
Looking around, the coast was clear, and she made a beeline up the stairs and towards the bathroom.
In the hallway, she almost plowed into her best friend Cindy, who had just exited the bathroom.
"Hey, there you are," said Cindy. "I was looking for you earlier. Where were you?"
Amy panicked for a moment but quickly collected herself, and managed a calm, casual reply. "Oh just went for a walk, needed some quiet time to reflect, be with God, ya know?" Amy then made a move to get around Cindy, trying to reach the bathroom before Cindy noticed anything suspicious.
But it was too late. "You look...flushed. Nervous. You ok? Something wrong?" Cindy asked.
"No nothing," Amy spat out too quickly. "Just...just really gotta pee." She tried again for the bathroom.
Cindy caught her up again. "Something is up, I can tell. Come on, dish!" she pleaded.
"I'll...I'll tell you about it later, I promise," Amy stammered.
"You better, bestie," Cindy called after her as Amy finally made it to the bathroom and slammed the door.
"Whew, finally," Amy whispered to herself. She double checked to make sure she locked the door, then turned to examine herself in the mirror.
Her face broke into a huge grin. "I can't believe we just did that," she thought, recalling the recent time she'd just spent alone in the woods with Tommy.
Her good Christian upbringing told her she should be feeling guilt and shame, like a wanton little slut that men would never respect, let alone marry.
But she didn't really believe any of that. Instead, all she felt was the joy and excitement of a young woman discovering both love and the pleasures of the flesh at the same time.
She composed herself quickly; can't dwell on that just yet. Things to do first.
She examined her bathing suit in the mirror. Despite her best efforts, she could still see the dried remains of Tommy's...sperm? Semen? She knew there was a difference but couldn't remember what. It had dried to dark patches on her light blue suit.
"I'll have to change it," she thought. "I'll tell mom I spilled something on it." She quickly stripped off her suit and as she did so, noticed another stain. This one in the crotch.
"Wow, girl, you really got yourself excited, didn't you?" she thought. The gusset of her suit was damp and sticky, and as she held it up closer to examine it, she caught a strong whiff of the scent of her vagina that not even the pool chlorine could drown out.
It wasn't an unpleasant smell. She'd smelled it before of course, during her relatively recent discovery and explorations of the pleasures of self pleasure. She found herself wondering if Tommy would enjoy her scent.
Masturbation was a "sin" her parents would condemn, no doubt, but she'd felt no shame in touching herself, in discovering how her body reacted to the exploration of her fingers over her most intimate parts.
Almost absent mindedly, Amy ran her hand over the fine blonde pubic hair covering her mound. Slipping downwards between her legs, she discovered the slick warm wetness that still lingered there. She felt the pulsing and throbbing of the little bump at the top that she knew would give her incredible pleasure if she just...
"Not now, dammit," she swore to herself. "Get this done, quick."
She stooped, still naked, and quickly washed out her suit along with the towel she'd used to wipe herself down earlier, making sure to get all of Tommy's sticky stuff off of both.
Looking down, she noticed a faded drop of...cum, she decided to call it, a word she'd heard before somewhere...dried now but still visible on her left breast.
She touched it, tentatively, then smelled her finger. On a sudden whim, she tasted it.
The taste was faint, but tangy and salty. She wondered for a moment what it would be like to taste it fresh, and her vagina throbbed at the thought.
"Not now!" she thought again, and quickly jumped in the shower, soaping and rinsing her whole body as quickly as possible. Her private parts begged her to linger over washing them. She ignored it.
Finished bathing, Amy grabbed a fresh towel, dried off, and wrapped herself in it. She then scooped up the wet suit and soiled towel. She'd put them in her bedroom hamper, and hopefully remember to do her own laundry first thing tomorrow.
She cracked the bathroom door and peeked out. All clear.
Her bedroom door was just a few steps down the hall and she made it through and behind it in seconds. Again she quickly locked her door.
She walked over to her bedroom window that overlooked the yard where the party was still going on and peeked out through the curtains.
Her parents were still playing the card game they'd been at with the other parents when she and Tommy had first snuck off to the woods for what turned out to be way more than just the kissing she'd planned on.
She looked around for Tommy, and saw him sitting alone by the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water, looking lost in thought.
She had a sudden overwhelming desire to knock on the window, get his attention, and flash him her boobs. A desire she quickly squashed. "If my parents saw that they'd chain me in the basement for a month with a rosary," she said, grimacing at the thought.
She would go back out and join him soon, she thought. Hopefully get to talk privately but if not, at least spend time with him, basking in their secret shared stolen moments together.
"But first," she thought, "God help me but I need to take care of this first."
Amy closed the curtains, making sure they were completely covering her window. She doubted anyone could see anything that high up, but she was taking no chances.
She walked over to her bed, dropped her towel, and lay naked over the bedspread.
"I've only got a few minutes or I'm gonna need another story to tell," she thought.
But a few minutes was all she'd need really.
