Jocelyn was new in town, and, right away, she was in trouble socially.
The "regular" girls at school saw her as an oddball because she came from a city out West. Jocelyn looked different, talked different, and acted different. She was a foreigner to these sheltered teens.
It didn't help that her small size made her appear young when, in fact, she was one of the oldest. Jocelyn would turn 19 before graduation. Just another reason she was an oddball.
Unsure how to react, the regular girls kept their distance.
The "popular" girls saw her as a threat. A threat to their way of life. A threat to the established order. Most importantly, a threat to steal a boyfriend. Or two. Or three.
The town was small and on the conservative side. The school had a simple dress code: skirts and blouses for girls, slacks and button shirts for boys.
The girls all wore modest solid color or plaid skirts that stopped just above the knee. Blouses were loose, cotton, and buttoned up the front. Colors were generally white or a light pastel.
The length of the skirt wasn't required, The color and size of the blouse weren't required. It was just the way schoolgirls in their little town had always dressed.
But it wasn't the way Jocelyn dressed. She followed the official rules, but she broke all the unofficial ones.
Jocelyn's skirts were short. They stopped closer to her pussy than her knees. The garments had bright flowers and geometric patterns. There were ruffles and belts that looked like jewelry. They hugged her hips and flared out when she turned.
Her blouses were often fancy pullovers in vibrant colors. The material was thin. Most appeared to be a size too small. The contours of her small breasts were readily apparent. Heads turned when Jocelyn walked by.
The popular girls in their plaid skirts and pastel blouses suddenly looked very plain.
By the end of her first week in school, girls had noted with disapproval that Jocelyn didn't wear a bra. There were no indentations visible - no bra straps, no band across the back. Her nipples poked against the tight blouse. It was . . . wrong.
Many boys had noted the same facts, though they had a much higher opinion of the look.
A rumor started that Jocelyn didn't wear any panties either. There was no evidence for this, merely the suggestion that a girl brazen enough to not wear a bra was surely brazen enough to not wear panties.
The popular girls were making sure Jocelyn would be shunned. Even girls who hadn't heard the rumors knew an aura of disapproval surrounded Jocelyn. She was someone to avoid.
Emily, on the other hand, was not avoided by anyone. She wasn't in the popular group, although they tolerated her. She was too different to be in the regular group, although they liked her. She wasn't a misfit, although she sometimes hung around with them. Emily was in the very tiny group of girls who weren't in a group.
Emily had gotten on the school bus at the regular time at her regular stop for the first day of a senior year which promised to be nothing special.
One stop later, Jocelyn got on the bus, and Emily's world changed.
Emily didn't know why. She hadn't even known the girl existed moments before. But her heart pounded as she watched Jocelyn walk down the aisle of the bus. It was love at first sight.
Her heart wasn't the only part of her body that reacted.
Jocelyn was short and slender, with blond hair, brown eyes, and a cute button nose. Strong features dominated her face. Small breasted, Jocelyn had a waist to match and gorgeous hips.
The most beautiful girl in school. Maybe the most beautiful in the world. At least, that was Emily's opinion.
At school, Jocelyn quickly made it clear she wasn't a threat to anyone's boyfriend. The short skirts, the tight tops, and the rumors of no underwear attracted boys like flies. Jocelyn ignored them all.
Even the popular jocks with the hot bodies and the popular girlfriends got ignored. Which pissed off the popular girls even more. It was an insult, like saying, "Your boyfriend is a loser and so are you."
Popular girls weren't losers. Couldn't be losers. Their boyfriends were hot. Had to be hot.
There was only one reason a girl would turn down hot, popular guys like their boyfriends. Jocelyn must not like guys at all. It was the only explanation. A new rumor started.
Girls were already shunning Jocelyn. Now the boys would shun her too.
Emily heard all the rumors. She was in her room after school. Her mother was bustling around the kitchen, getting ingredients organized for dinner. Her mother was a very careful person and was proud that her daughter was cautious and careful too.
The teen shut her door. She rarely did that during the day. Emily lay on her bed, still in her school clothes, and thought about the rumors. Thought about Jocelyn with no bra. Thought about Jocelyn with no panties. Thought about the latest rumor that Jocelyn liked girls. Liked girls in THAT way.
Emily pulled up her skirt and put her hand in her panties. She moaned quietly as she rubbed her clit. Moaned and thought about Jocelyn.
Emily had never thought about whether she liked boys or liked girls in THAT way. She had gone on dates with boys but never had a regular boyfriend. She hadn't let any of them get past first base, though almost all had tried.
For her 18th birthday, some girl friends had gotten hold of a couple cases of beer and threw her a secret birthday party in the woods, a spot where they regularly gathered.
More than tipsy, Emily had been convinced to show off her big C-cup tits. Giggling, the four other girls had dared each other to take a turn sucking or licking a tit. One girl had touched between Emily's legs.
Emily had found it embarrassing and funny at the same time. She had also found it enjoyable.
By the time the beer was gone, all five girls were lying on the forest floor, blouses open, panties pulled down, masturbating. Emily had sat up to gaze at the various tits and pussies as she masturbated. It had been hot. One of her best orgasms.
"Maybe I do like girls," Emily thought. "I certainly like Jocelyn. I liked looking at my friends."
In her room, Emily quietly came. She was a cautious and careful girl, and that included having careful orgasms.
She cleaned herself up and went to the kitchen to help her mother with dinner.
Every day on the bus, Emily got on before Jocelyn. As the bus approached the next stop, Emily would get a long look at the girl she had fallen for. By the end of the second week, Emily realized her pussy got wet every day as they neared Jocelyn's stop.
Jocelyn and Emily shared some classes. They had talked occasionally, but it was hard to have an extended conversation in the hustle and bustle of school. Hard to be close to the girl you had fallen for.
Emily got brave one day and saved the seat next to her for Jocelyn. Waving her over, Emily got a smile in return. They chatted about teachers and classes on the ride. Emily couldn't help herself. She twisted in her seat so her knee touched Jocelyn's. A shiver ran up her back.
Jocelyn didn't shift away. Emily could barely focus on anything except the tiny patch of her skin that touched a tiny patch of the other girl's skin.
On the ride home that afternoon, Emily blurted out, "You don't like boys much, do you?"
A wary smile crossed Jocelyn's face. Her eyes searched Emily's face and saw friendship, hope, and interest. Her eyes shifted away, roving across Emily's big tits and down to her legs. Emily blushed. A thought flashed through her head.
"I hope she likes what she sees."
Emily was several inches taller than Jocelyn with dark hair and green eyes. Dimples appeared when she smiled. Large breasted, her body was in the vast middle area between slender and heavy. Her Greek grandmother had passed down her soft, olive-toned complexion. Emily's flat ass came from her father's side of the family.
The most beautiful girl in school. Maybe the most beautiful girl in the world. At least that was Jocelyn's opinion.
Jocelyn looked at Emily. She slowly turned in her seat, moving her knee against Emily's. A shiver ran up both backs. Jocelyn smiled.
"What was the question again?"
"You don't like boys much, do you?" Emily had trouble getting the words out.
"No. Not much," Jocelyn replied. Her voice was almost a purr.
Emily wondered how wet her panties were going to be by the time Jocelyn got off the bus. She wondered if Jocelyn could smell her arousal.
On the morning ride to school, Jocelyn continued the conversation. She had turned again so the two girl's knees touched. Her hand dangled from the seatback, perilously close to Emily's shoulder.
"Do you like boys?" Jocelyn smiled hopefully as she asked.
Emily blushed. Her pussy was getting damper. Her mind went blank.
"I've dated some boys."
Jocelyn's smile waned.
"But I never had a regular boyfriend," Emily rushed to explain.
The smile got a little brighter. A finger touched Emily's shoulder, sending an electric spark through her body. Emily screwed up her courage. She was about to admit something to herself as much as Jocelyn. She looked at her lap, embarrassed.
In a quiet voice, so no one else would hear, Emily said, "I think I like girls, not boys."
She peeked at the girl next to her. The smile was still there. "I like you."
Emily was blushing furiously. She didn't dare look.
The bus arrived at school. The two stayed seated as others left. Just before standing, Jocelyn casually dropped her hand onto Emily's leg and gave it a little squeeze.
"I like you, too."
Emily had to take several deep breaths before she could stand. Had Jocelyn really said she liked Emily? Did it mean what Emily hoped it meant? Or was it all a dream?
Emily was waiting in line at the cafeteria. Students ate in shifts and Jocelyn was passing by on her way out. Passing by very close, she moved her hand, brushing Emily's, briefly intertwining fingers, and then she was gone. Emily couldn't breathe. She looked around. Nobody seemed to have noticed.
Jocelyn was from the West, where people were used to taking action. Back on the bus, she took action, awkwardly sitting on one hip, the other hip raised to block the view from across the aisle.
She moved her top leg, laying it across Emily's knee. One arm lay along the seatback, the hand resting on Emily's shoulder.
"Does this bother you?"
Emily could barely shake her head, "No."
Actually, it bothered her. Bothered her a lot. In a good way.
