Bed Of Roses Ch 02

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The following story involves graphic descriptions of sexual encounters. If such things offend you, please read no further. And if you are offended you might want to wonder why you are looking at "eroticstories.com" in the first place. For everyone else, I hope you enjoy the story.

This story is, as the name implies, the second part of an earlier story, titled "This Bed of Rose's." Please reference that story for descriptions.

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Chapter 2: Caught In Charlotte's Webb

The day had started simply enough. It was an important day for Rose. She was actually going to meet her girlfriend's parents. Unbeknownst to her, Charlotte had officially outed herself to her parents just a day or so earlier, and apparently they insisted on meeting this "girl" that had become so prominent in her life. And Rose was petrified. Meeting someone's parents is something she had assumed only straight people did, though she realized that was a little silly of an idea. But she had agreed to this. She and Charlotte had gone shopping to find her some clothes that fit Rose's style but were a little more presentable than her standard tight, well-worn jeans and tee-shirt. Dealing with the bright red mohawk that Rose sported was going to be bizarre enough.

The two girls couldn't be more different in appearance. While both athletic, Rose was all muscle, lean and mean. She was beautiful for sure, at least everyone but her seemed to think so. She had a body that resembled a Greek goddess. But while Rose was all leather and muscle, Charlotte was soft and cuddly. This wasn't to say that the blonde girl who always wore her hair up in pigtails was fat, because that was far, far from the truth. She was an athlete, being a long time soccer player who was the goalie for the university team. While Rose had handful sized breasts, Charlotte's cups did "runneth over." And Charlotte had a hint of baby fat on her body, which made her absolutely adorable.

But they were very compatible personality-wise. And Rose was flattered beyond belief that Charlotte was comfortable enough with their relationship that she wanted her lover to meet her parents. And while Rose wanted to maintain her identity, she had compromised with Charlotte by letting her pick out the clothes. The big night was upon them, and a potential problem had arisen. Rose was afraid her first phrase to Mr. and Mrs. Webb would be, "I'm sorry we're late, but your daughter was performing oral sex on me." Which is pretty much what was happening.

She had been trying on some pants that Charlotte thought "would look darling" on her. They were made of some stretchy material that resembled felt. They were black in color with small roses embroidered up and down each leg in small columns. They clung to her like a second skin, and Rose supposed they looked nice enough, but they weren't really practically and were more than a bit on the warm side. And for some reason, her blonde friend had insisted she wear this silly red-silk g-string. Rose had questioned how wearing a thong was supposed to impress her parents. Charlotte had made the point that the lingerie wasn't for her parents. With that, Rose had been pushed over on the bed and her pants had been pulled up to her knees. Charlotte simply pushed the panties out of the way and began licking Rose's pussy.

After a few minutes, the redhead decided to object. "Hon, as much as I . . . ooh, a little to the left . . . would like to do this right now, we're going to be late."

"We have two hours," came the response. Charlotte had withdrawn her tongue and was using two of her fingers like a piston in Rose's box.

"But we always have to take a shower afterwards, or we'll be covered in sweat and . . . well, other stuff." Despite her words, Rose's heart really wasn't in her objections. Charlotte was just too good at what she was doing.

"Hmm. You've got a point. But I've got an idea." Charlotte stood up and pulled Rose's pants all the way off. "We can save time by fucking IN the shower!" With that, she turned and began shirking her clothes on her way to the bathroom. She had said it so matter-of-factly that Rose couldn't help but smile. By the time she had peeled herself off the bed, Charlotte already had the shower warmed up and was completely naked. Rose crept up behind her and wrapped her up in her arms, groping her tits in the process.

"What kept you?" Charlotte murmured, stepping towards the shower and pulling Rose with her.

"A certain blonde bombshell was just doing something that made my knees weak."

"What a naughty girl she must have been."

"Oh she was," teased Rose. "And she's gonna get what's coming to her!" Rose slid the shower door shut and gave Charlotte a warm kiss. No matter how many times they had been together, Rose was amazed at how attracted she was to the other girl. And now was no exception. Her hair was already drenched and plastered to her head, and as she spun, Rose watched the water flow in and around her curves while droplets hung perilously on the gentle swell of her breasts. She noticed Charlotte was blushing. "What's with that?" asked Rose, gently touching her lover's skin.

"It's just it makes me feel all warm inside. You know, when you look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Charlotte leaned in against her body. "With those big eyes just devouring my body." She kissed Rose, and let her hands drift down that toned muscular physique so they could firmly grasp that incredibly tight ass. "With that 'come-hither' stare." She slowly got down onto her knees, kissing her way down Rose's body, including lightly tonguing her naval. "With that look that tells me in a glance what you want me to do to you." Then words escaped her as she buried her mouth in Rose's privates again.

Rose looked down, savoring the feeling of lips on her pussy and a tongue in her slit. She savored the sight of water cascading down her muscular torso and onto Charlotte's face. The other girl had slid one hand between Rose's legs and had penetrated her ass with her index finger. She knew how to push Rose's buttons. Rose actually had to lean against the wall of the shower and grasp the top of Charlotte's head to keep her knees from buckling. The blonde girl's tongue was buried in her deep, probing her insides in a methodical fashion. Considering they had a deadline, Charlotte didn't seem to be in much of a hurry. Her tongue was moving at a languid pace. When she finally withdrew it, it was only so she could tease Rose's clit more directly. Eventually it became too much, and Rose's grasp on Charlotte's head (as well as the handle to the shower door) intensified as she began to cum. She could only imagine what it was like for Charlotte, not knowing whether the fluid at her lips was water or Rose's juice. But she didn't imagine her friend much cared. Finally her body finished shaking, and Charlotte looked up at her with a satisfied smile on her face.

"My turn," was all she could say.

Rose pulled the girl to her feet and spun her around. Then she had Charlotte bend over while Rose got on her knees. The water was cascading down the girl's back and down the crack of her ass like a waterfall. Rose grabbed a double handful of ass, spread those cheeks wide open, and went to work on Charlotte's delectable pussy. She licked up and down, periodically teasing the sensitive area between the bottom of the slit and the anus. Charlotte had never shown interest in anal play, but stimulating this area got her to make some interesting noises of pleasure.

"I fuckin' love it when you do that," the girl said.

"Then I guess I'd better do it again," Rose returned, then let her tongue dance on that area again. Then it was back to the pussy proper, including sucking on her swollen lips. Charlotte was bent over far enough that Rose was able to reach one of her hands between Charlotte's legs and fondle one of the girl's substantial tits. It was especially warm right now, and it was slick due to the steam and water. Charlotte moaned louder. She was close.

"Get on your knees," Rose said.

"If I had a dime every time you told be to do that . . ." Charlotte retorted playfully. But she also did as she was told. Rose moved so that her body and breasts were pushed directly into her friend's back. She reached around Charlotte's waist and ran her hands down the girl's body until they reached her crotch.

"I don't want you to touch yourself," Rose whispered in her ear. "I want you to let me take care of you." She started inserting fingers into Charlotte's box. She used just one at first, then two and then three. Her other hand mostly rubbed the girls mound or squeezed her lips together around Rose's fingers, but sometimes she had to reach up and tweak Charlotte's nipples. It didn't take long until Charlotte's pussy had a death-lock on one of Rose's hands while her body trembled in ecstasy. By the end of her orgasm, Charlotte was breathing quite heavily, and Rose slid her hands up so she feel the girl's heart beat under her sizable chest. Charlotte turned her head so the two girls could share another passionate kiss.

"Just in time," Charlotte gasped, finally breaking the kiss.

"How's that?"

"We've just run out of hot water."

The two girls almost screamed when cold water came blasting through the pipes, and the scurried turn off the water and get out of the shower. The were both standing naked in the bathroom, dripping water all over the place and looking for all the world like a couple of wet (albeit sexy) rats. They looked at each other and started to laugh, and eventually got around to toweling each other off.

An hour and a half later, they were sitting in Charlotte's car outside her parents' house. Rose was a nervous wreck. She had been in fights, towed the cars of some very scary people, had been kicked off a soccer team for having sex with a teacher, and had been abandoned by her own parents by the time she was eighteen. And none of that had made her as jittery as meeting this girl's parents. And to make matters worse, Charlotte had talked a little bit about them on the way over. Her father, it would seem, was a federal judge and a card-carrying member of the NRA who enjoyed hunting when he had the chance. Her mother was a high-priced defense attorney who belonged to a book club and enjoyed knitting and watching John Wayne movies. One thing kept running through Rose's mind on the way over. 'I'm gonna die!'

When they got to Charlotte's house, Rose's eyes were opened wide. The house was enormous. It was one of those houses that actually had a six-foot tall brick wall all the way around and an intimidating-looking iron gate. They pulled up to the house and parked beside a BMW 330ci convertible and a Jaguar S-Type R. Rose found herself drooling looking at those cars, particularly the Jaguar, dreaming about its supercharged V8 engine that could go from zero to sixty mile-per-hour in less than five and a half seconds. Charlotte actually had to snap her fingers in Roses face to bring the girl back to reality.

They went through the massive front doors into a parlor bigger than Rose's house. A maid ushered them into the dining room where dinner was being laid out. Mrs. Annabel Webb was seated at one end of the table while Mr. Jonathan Webb was at the other. Only two other chairs were left at the table, conveniently on opposite sides of the table. Oh well, it was to be expected.

Mrs. Webb was a very proper looking woman with short blonde hair, dressing in a 3-piece suit at what Rose had been hoping would be an informal dinner. Mr. Webb, handsome for his age (even to Rose), was a little more laid back in his tan slacks and white golf-shirt. It was hard to read either of their faces, and Rose was worried that might be intentional.

Things started civilly enough. There were comments about the weather and traffic. But it didn't take long for Rose to notice something was amiss. Mr. Webb didn't do much talking. Rose couldn't help but think he was analyzing her, waiting for her to "screw up" somehow. But at least he was polite about it. Mrs. Webb became less polite. Initially all she did was talk to her daughter or husband directly, but never seemed to address their guest. When Charlotte realized Rose was being excluded, she brought up a few things for Rose to talk about, like knowing each other from high school, her business classes, her knowledge of cars and her desire to open her own garage.

Down the line, Mrs. Webb managed to put down all of things that had been brought up. In regards to knowing each other in high school, she pointed out that she was glad HER daughter had been able to finish all her years at the same school she started at. Rose had a feeling that Mrs. Webb was familiar with the story and reason for her departure from that institution. As far as her business classes go, the older lady's exact response was, "Community college? How quaint." Roses knowledge of cars was referred to as " . . . hardly seemly of a young lady," and her dreams of owning and managing a automotive center for domestic vehicles as " . . . suitable for one of her academic standing."

At that point Rose was staring directly at her plate trying not to scream and fighting back tears. This wasn't going as she had hoped. In fact, she likened it to hell. Charlotte was obviously confused and distressed by her mother's attitude and her father's silence. In attempt to defend her guest, she mentioned how incredible Rose was for having accomplished all this on her own with no help from her parents. Rose knew instantly that Charlotte had made a mistake, but her mother had already pounced on it.

"Hmm. Ostracized by her parents? I can hardly see why." The bitch actually sounded smug, like she had just scored the game-winning point. Maybe she had, thought Rose.

Rose put her napkin on the table and pushed her seat back.

"Rose . . ." started Charlotte.

"Young woman, it is impolite to leave the table without an 'excuse me'."

"It is also impolite," said Rose through clenched teeth, "to be so blatantly rude to a guest that YOU invited into your home." Mrs. Webb started to open her mouth, but Rose was in no mood for it. "No, you listen while I talk. I have been looked down on by better people than you. I'm only here because your daughter asked me to be, and because you requested it. I'm not sure what your plan was, but I don't have to sit here and take this crap from you. He . . ." she said pointing at Mr. Webb who had raised his eyebrows at the start of this confrontation " . . . doesn't seem to be interested in getting to know me at all. And you, you heinous and overdressed ice-queen, aren't interested either, as the facts of my life might just interfere with your narrow-minded, asinine demonization of me. Now if you will all EXCUSE me, I have a 'quaint' life to get back to." She looked at Charlotte who was on the edge of tears herself and said, "I'm sorry hon. I just . . . I just can't be here," and she stormed out of the house. She had taken as much as she could, she had made a stand, and she hadn't let them see her cry. Other peoples' opinions of her had never bothered her before. But this was the first time she had wanted other peoples' approval and she had been slapped down. As she walked hurriedly down the drive, she realized that Charlotte had driven her here. She was standing next to the iron-gate, realizing that she somehow had to scale the wall or gate and then walk the nine-mile journey home when the tears began to leak out of her eyes. For a moment, all she could do was grip the bars of the gate and cry.

At some point she realized that someone was behind her. She turned, almost expecting Charlotte, but instead found Mr. Webb. He had pulled the Jaguar down the drive (damn that car ran smooth), and was leaning against the side. "You, young woman," he said with a smile that didn't seem hostile at all, "really need to learn to control that temper. I don't think my wife has ever be dressed down like that, except maybe by other attorneys, particularly in her own home. But I was impressed with your choice of words, by the way. You have a fairly good vocabulary!" This actually got a chuckle out of Rose before he continued. "First of all, I should apologize. My wife isn't normally like that. Charlotte's announcement took us a little bit by surprise. I think Annabel was already planning our daughter's wedding reception and now, barring a major shift in the political spectrum, that probably won't be happening. And I should apologize for myself. I was trying to figure you out, which I find easier to do when listening than when talking. I didn't mean to let things get that far out of control. Hell, I wasn't even expecting them to GET out of control."

Rose was beginning to believe him. His voice carried no malice in it. Rather, he sounded genuinely remorseful.

"As for myself," he continued, "I'd be lying if I said this is how I pictured my only child would be at this stage of her life. But something I noticed after talking with my parents, my wife's parents, and parents in general is that nobody's child turns into exactly what they expected. I have faith in my daughter's judgement. If she sees something in you worthwhile, I'll believe her. And from what I've seen, her faith in you seems somewhat well placed. Now why don't you let me give you a ride home? I figure if you live near the university, that would be a hell of a walk."

Rose wasn't sure what, if anything, she should say. She was emotionally exhausted, and still slightly in the mood to be pissy, but how could she say no? First of all, he seemed to be a genuinely nice person trying to make amends. And secondly, it was a chance to take a ride in a supercharged Jag. She made her way to the passenger side and he unlocked the door. He was smiling when she got in.

"It was the car, wasn't it? Nobody shoots down someone driving a Jaguar, do they?"

"Not unless they're idiots," whispered Rose somewhat weakly.

"There's the voice. I wondered what happened to that. We'd better get going. I don't where my daughter picked up that kind of language, unless she joined the navy and didn't tell anyone, but she was cursing up a storm when I left. She told me she'd be by to see you later, but she had 'a few things to say' to her mother first."

On the trip home, Rose opened up a little bit. She talked about Mr. Webb's car, giving him all the specs (which he probably already knew) and the history of the model. He very politely inquired about her relationship with her parents, as that was the thing that had set her off back at the house. She told him about how her father had run off when she was sixteen with another woman and her mother had run off when she was eighteen with another man. Mr. Webb actually seemed disgusted, but not with Rose. "How could anyone call themselves a decent human being much less a parent after running off like that? And so you've been supporting yourself for three years?"

"Yeah. I wanted to apply for a loan, but a friend told me it would be unlikely I'd get one because of my age. So I keep with the towing. Sometimes I'll do some jobs at one of the garages when they're short staffed. They pay me in parts sometimes."

"Parts?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to restore a '69 Roadrunner I've got out in my garage. I mean, I like Jags just fine, but give me an old-fashioned muscle car any day. And . . . and you must think I'm the biggest geek on the planet."

He was looking somewhat thoughtful. "Actually, I was thinking of something a friend of mine told me when we were golfing last week. He sells high-end cars, but also restores classics. I think he just lost one of his guys. I'd be happy to put in a good word for you if you're interested."