Feeling Strange

For the uninitiated to the adventures of Tom and Sophie, please refer to Part 1 of this story. More to come soon I promise, this is just a short instalment as it's been so long between updates.

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Tom was in a daze. Sophie, the girl he'd known since she was eight years old, had just come to him for advice and ended up discovering a whole lot more about herself. He'd never felt so aroused, or so confused. They had slumped to the ground together and had been this way, backs against a pole in the stables, for the past few seconds. Just as he was about to shift his weight, Sophie scrambled from her position in his arms to her feet.

"Sophie..."

He trailed off. What to say? Tom had never thought about Sophie in any way other than like a sister. It didn't feel right to. He'd worked at the property since he was 21, when she was only 8. Ten years of mundane day-to-day tasks together, the occasional soccer game, and many evening meals with the rest of the people who lived and worked at the property. Including Sophie's family. Oh God, what would her parents think if they knew. All this went through his head in less than a second, but when he looked at Sophie's face again he had just a moment to register her expression of extreme embarrassment, before she spun around and ran back the way she'd come.

Tom didn't chase after her. He had too much to think about.

Sophie was mortified. She'd spent the last several weeks not knowing what was going on with her mind and body, and for it to have resulted in THAT. With Tom! What had she been thinking to open her mouth and keep talking in that way! She could never look him in the face again. To make it worse, she'd caught the look of aversion in his eyes before she'd turned and ran. She'd headed straight to her bedroom, where she now lay sobbing under her bedcovers.

Days went by. Sophie spent her time either in school, studying, or actively avoiding Tom. She managed to convince her parents she needed to eat at her desk at night while studying, so she could avoid seeing him at mealtimes. The two times she had glanced him from a distance had caused her a jolt which was largely physical, a combination of pain, embarrassment, and arousal. Because she had to admit to herself now, she was attracted to him. And he didn't want anything to do with her. As far as she could tell, he hadn't come looking for her at all this past week.

Sophie woke up on Friday, and grabbed a quick breakfast straight from the kitchen on the pretence of being late for school.

"Darling, come and sit down with us", her mum called from the dining room.

Sophie poked her head around the corner. It was just her mother and Ella left at the table.

"Where's everyone else?" Sophie asked.

"If you'd taken a break from your studies this last week you might have heard before now; Tom's taken some of the men next door for the few days to help the McPhersons."

Sophie looked at her mother questioningly. 'Next door' referred to the McPherson's property, one of the properties adjoining theirs, but it was some 200km away.

"It was Tom's idea, Soph. Don't you think that's sweet of him? He knew how behind they've been since Rod McPherson broke his foot and Michael went away to university. We can afford to help them out for a few days."

Sophie reeled. This was really happening. Tom did not want to see her. It had to be why he had volunteered to head up a working party away from the property. Well, fine. She would get over her embarrassment and get over Tom while she was at it. She went to school resolving to think no more about him that day.

That night, Sophie lay in bed, purposefully not thinking of Tom. And while she was not thinking of him, she thought of the way she had felt when she saw his curly red-gold chest hair peek over the collar of his shirt in the stables the other night. She was feeling that way again now. Without him being anywhere nearby, she was feeling keyed up and restless again. In fact she was so turned on that without meaning to, she let out a little groan.

Unconsciously her hands drifted up to her nipples. She had to admit, she was curious to try this again, on her own. Dragging her nails over her nipples felt just as good as it had in the stables, and she felt her back arch off the bed. She kept drawing slow circles with her nails, over her thin singlet, across her nipples. God, there it was. A line of fire connecting her nipples to her groin. There was a steady heat flushing through her stomach and down the tops of her legs. The heat in her stomach was growing and changing in nature, turning into a ball of aching need. She stopped herself from whimpering, and stopped moving her left hand for just long enough to grab a pillow and put it across her face.

When Sophie returned her left hand to her left nipple it was like a switch had been flicked. She started grinding her hips against the bed without conscious thought. The ball of need in her stomach had now extended down between her legs and she could feel herself getting wetter. She couldn't wait any longer, Sophie needed to touch her wet, aching pussy. Just thinking about it made her shudder, and she fumbled hurriedly with her pyjama shorts.

Her nipples now unattended, Sophie had both hands beneath her underwear. Her left hand instinctively pulled back the hood of her clitoris which, she observed in some dazed back corner of her mind, was standing to attention. With her right hand she felt how slick and wet she was, before gliding one wet finger across her clit. Sophie groaned properly this time. Holy shit that was good. Her hips were rocking rhythmically now as she used her right index finger to play with her clit. She could feel the aching in her pussy building and every so often she stopped touching her clit to put two fingers inside herself. Each time she did this and removed the fingers again, the aching need became greater. Returning to her clit was like the direct answer to that ache her pussy was creating. Sophie realised was panting, and she couldn't pull her fingers away from her clit anymore, even to touch her pussy. Oh God, she was on the verge of it, trying to hold herself back as long as she could, but needing to break, to shatter, to release. She groaned out loud this time, which sent her over the edge and she came, hard, against her own hand. Just as she did, Tom's face flashed into her mind and after several seconds of orgasm, she resolved for the third time that day not to think of him, as she drifted off to sleep.