Her Daughter Brought Home A Friend

WEDNESDAY MORNING -- THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

Ellen answered on the second ring.

"Hi Mom!"

"Arial! I thought you'd be home by now. Are you on your way?"

"I'm getting ready to leave, but Mom I have a question for you."

"Uh-oh. What question?" Ellen Monroe said warily, familiar with her daughter's sudden whims.

"A girl in my dorm has nowhere to go for Thanksgiving, so I thought I'd invite her to come home with me. If that's okay?"

"Oh, Arial, it's not your roommate is it?" neither Ellen nor her daughter liked the roommate she'd been assigned at college.

"No, no, she's actually the Resident Assistant on my floor. And she's a TA in one of my classes."

"And she has nowhere to go for Thanksgiving?"

"No, her family is out on the coast and I guess they're not big on Thanksgiving. She was planning to stay in her room all week, binge Netflix and eat ramen."

"We can set another plate. Your Uncle David had an emergency at work and he can't come. It would feel funny with only two of us at the table."

"Oh, poo! Uncle David's not coming?"

"Not this year, sweetie, but he said he'd be here for Christmas for sure. His boss owes him after begging him to work over Thanksgiving."

"I'll miss Uncle David."

"Okay, honey, you can bring this girl home, but gosh there's no furniture in the guest room! I gave all that stuff to your cousin for her new apartment."

"That's okay, she can bunk with me, and thanks Mom! You are the coolest!" and Arial hung up before Ellen could ask for more details.

Ellen tried to remember if she'd met Arial's RA on move-in day at the freshman dorm and drew a blank. And her daughter said the girl was a TA. Was that a teaching assistant? She sighed, no doubt she'd get the details when Arial and her friend arrived. Arial had a lifelong habit of bringing home strays ... dogs and cats, once a discarded hamster ... that Ellen ended up taking care of... and apparently she'd graduated to stray people.

That welcome phone call was followed an hour later by one that was much less welcome. Ellen frowned when she looked at her phone and saw her ex-husband's number.

"Yes!" she tried to sound indifferent, but suspected he could hear the anger in her voice in a single word.

"Hello Ellen," he said formally.

"What do you want, Roger?"

"The settlement says I can have Arial with me for 24 hours during Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Years as long as I give you at least 24 hours' advance notice. This is my advance notice."

Ellen seethed.

"You're forcing my daughter to spend Thanksgiving Day with you just to piss me off, aren't you?"

"She's also MY daughter and the court gave me a tiny slice of her life and I'm taking it," he said grimly. She could almost see the angry set of his face.

"Your NEW wife is behind this, I'll bet!"

"Celeste had nothing to do with this, but a lot of her family will be here for Thanksgiving dinner. It'll be good for Arial to meet them. If you refuse, my lawyer will file a motion with the court on Monday."

Ellen knew she was defeated and it filled her with rage. She hung up on him and her phone rang again almost immediately.

"I'll pick her up at noon tomorrow," then her phone went dead. She cocked her arm to throw the phone against the wall, but thought better of it settling instead for a deep-throated scream of frustration.

WEDNESDAY AFTERNOON -- THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

Later that day Ellen was making pie filling when the doorbell rang and the front door banged open at the same time.

"Mom, hiiii, we're home!" Arial shouted and Ellen headed for the front hall, smiling and drying her hands on a dish towel. In the hall stood her daughter Arial... pretty, slender and tall... taking off her parka.

Beside Arial was a girl in jeans, boots and a padded leather jacket over a thick sweater, wearing a long, colorful scarf. The stranger's face was remarkably pale and her shoulder length hair glossy black with red highlights.

The strange girl's oval face was striking, with large, dark eyes and thick, distinct brows, a straight nose, and naturally dark red lips that Ellen thought had a cynical twist.

Ellen and Arial hugged long and hard, pulled back to look at each other, then hugged again, laughing.

"Oh, you've lost weight!" Ellen declared, holding her daughter at arm's length.

"You'd lose weight too if you had to eat in our dining hall," Arial said with a laugh.

"It's not THAT bad!" the stranger drawled. "Nobody has actually starved to death."

"Mom, this is Ingrid, who I told you about."

"Welcome Ingrid, we're happy to have you."

"Thanks Mrs. Monroe, you have a beautiful home."

"Just call me Ellen, we're not formal around here."

"Okay, then... Ellll-en," Ingrid said, and Ellen wondered a little at the way the young woman drew out her name as if she was tasting a new flavor.

"Are you sure you won't mind sharing a room with Arial? She talks in her sleep."

"Oh I won't mind," Ingrid said with a smile that seemed a little teasing, "It'll be like a slumber party with just me and your daughter."

Ellen couldn't put her finger on it, but it felt like Ingrid put unusual emphasis on "daughter."

"Well then, I put the rollaway bed in there with some sheets and stuff. Let me know if you need anything else."

The girls carried their bags upstairs to Arial's bedroom while Ellen returned to the kitchen. Later they ate dinner, cleaned the kitchen and sat up talking and playing a board game. Arial shared her impressions of college life and Ingrid contributed occasional funny stories, often with a cynical twist.

Arial's guest gradually revealed that she was 22 and had traveled and worked for a couple of years before starting college. Her parents were divorced and both remarried, with children much younger than Ingrid. She described her parents as "human train wrecks."

"I'm sure they're doing their best," Ellen said tersely, but Ingrid just smiled patiently as if she knew better. The older woman once found her eyes lingering too long on Ingrid's expressive face, after which she was careful to look at her guest only when she was speaking, afraid she might make Ingrid uncomfortable. The girl wasn't a conventional beauty, but her face was distinctly appealing.

WEDNESDAY NIGHT -- THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

The girls went upstairs at 10:30 while Ellen cleaned the counters, set up the coffeemaker then donned her pajamas and fuzzy robe. She was reading in bed, drifting off, when she thought she heard a faint, high-pitched cry. Startled, she swung her legs off the bed, donned her slippers and went to listen at the bottom of the stairs. She heard more sounds from Arial's room, enough to tell that the girls were having sex and she felt a rush of unfamiliar emotions.

A spurt of confused anger faded when Ellen recalled her long discussions with Arial about when to have sex and all the issues involved. It occurred to Ellen that if Arial was mature enough to have sex, she was also entitled to decide *who* she slept with ... even another girl. And four years wasn't exactly a shocking age gap.

Would she disapprove if her 18-year-old daughter was sleeping with a 22-year-old guy she obviously trusted? Had Arial ever given any sign of being gay, she wondered? Had she missed the obvious? Her daughter had given up her virginity with a guy the summer before senior year and they had talked about it at length. They were that close.

Ellen put a foot on the bottom stair, but stopped realizing that intruding would be disastrous. Arial would be mortified and angry if her privacy was invaded. And she knew her daughter was self-willed enough that she wouldn't be having sex with Ingrid unless she wanted to.

"Ohmygosh!" Ellen thought. "I don't know how to feel. I know Arial has slept with guys... one I know of and probably at least one more. I assumed she would have sex at college, but I never imagined with girls!"

There was a drawn-out cry from Arial and Ellen blushed, knowing she was hearing her daughter orgasm. Embarrassed at overhearing such an intimate moment, she fled back to her bedroom, closed the door firmly and got in bed wondering about the relationship between her daughter and her older friend. And she briefly wondered if she would hear Ingrid climax if she listened carefully. She got her answer 15 minutes later when a faint cry of "Yes, Yes! YES!" came from upstairs.

Flustered, Ellen picked up her book again, but couldn't concentrate and eventually drifted off into a world of vivid dreams. Truthfully, Arial wasn't the only active sleeper in the family. Ellen, too, was known to talk and move restlessly while dreaming, tangling the covers, sometimes kicking or crying out.

And this night she dreamed of Ingrid, the girl with the confident gaze, crooked smile and vaguely provocative manner. Ellen dreamed of talking intimately with Ingrid, not across the kitchen table, but face to face on the same pillow. She dreamed of Ingrid in the shower, turning to show her beautifully shaped breasts topped by dark, stiff nipples.

She dreamed of kissing Ingrid and Ingrid kissing back passionately, her mouth wide and their tongues sliding sensually. Somehow Ingrid was naked, on top of her, holding her, grinding her hips against Ellen's.

She awoke once, her lips pursed for a kiss, and thought "Ohmygod I'm going crazy," but soon she fell back asleep and dreamed again. This time she was kissing Ingrid in the dark, her breathing loud, her trembling hand cupping a warm breast then feeling its way down across the young woman's flat belly to her tangled pubes. Suddenly she realized it wasn't Ingrid in her arms, but Arial, kissing her deeply and pinching a sensitive nipple.

That image shocked Ellen so badly that she sat upright in bed, fully awake. The light from her reading lamp revealed that she was alone and the pubes she was fingering were her own. She was sweating in her flannel pajamas and heavy robe.

"My god, what's come over me?! Ellen mused, tossing her robe on the floor and changing her damp pajamas for a lighter set. When she fell asleep this time she didn't dream, or wasn't aware of any, until she felt a hand shaking her and a voice saying "Mom! Mom!"

WEDNESDAY NIGHT -- THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING

"Your Mom... Ellen, is really cool," Ingrid said, unpacking her things in Arial's room.

"Oh, yeah, she's great," Arial said.

"No, I mean it. It's amazing what she's done in your living room with colors and textures and lighting. If I was still an art major I'd be taking notes!"

"You think so? She's always done the decorating thing."

"And she doesn't look like a Mom... more like an actress who played those 'hot girl' roles in her 20s. Did she make that blouse, with all that hand stitching? I've never seen anything like it."

"I guess I don't really *see* her as she is," Arial said. "To me she's just Mom, a good listener and a GREAT cook!"

"You'd appreciate her more if you grew up with my Mom. I don't think I've ever seen that old hag without a can of Bud Lite in one hand and a cig in the other, stirring beans on the stove and telling me how I fucked up my life by quitting that third shift job at the cannery."

"Want to help me with this rollaway? I have no idea how Mom got this thing out of the attic."

The girls tried to unfold the rollaway bed, but only succeeded in knocking over a lamp and jamming the catch that held the folding bed together.

"Crap, this is not happening!" Arial said crossly. "Why don't we just share my bed?"

Ingrid looked at the girl in appraisal.

"You won't mind? Ellen won't mind?"

"No, Mom likes you I can tell. She'll be fine with it. And she won't have to wash an extra set of sheets!"

"So practical, you little helper!" Ingrid laughed and tossed a pillow at Arial. Soon they were wrestling, toppling onto the bed where Ingrid got the upper hand, straddling the girl's waist and pinning her hands to the bedspread.

"Looks like I'm the boss of you!" she said, staring down into Arial's wide brown eyes.

"Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?"

Challenged, Ingrid stared into Arial's intense gaze. She was so... SO tempted to lean down and kiss the girl. And she had a feeling her kiss would be welcome. But at that moment Ellen called them to supper and the moment passed.

"To be continued," Ingrid whispered and she stood, pulling Arial up with her. They raced down the stairs giggling and shoving each other.

After dinner the three cleaned up then played a board game in the living room while a crackling blaze in the fireplace kept the November chill at bay. It was a close contest played with much argument and laughter, but Ellen started to yawn so the game was adjourned and the girls went upstairs.

"That was a blast!" Ingrid said, "and I have to say Ellen can trade cuss words with anybody I've ever met!"

"She worked construction through school, with some pretty rough guys. Then Mom and Dad got married and started their own company. The two of them ran it together until I was born. We have pictures of Mom carrying me in a backpack on job sites. Some of the guys didn't like taking orders from her, but she cussed them and got things done her way."

"I admire her... but what's the rest of the story?" Ingrid asked. "Now she's alone."

"You mean the divorce? Well, Mom quit working because she needed to drive me to school and birthday parties and dance classes. That was great for years until Celeste showed up and my Dad started thinking with his dick!"

"Oh yeah, same old story," Ingrid concluded. "The guy spends all day with a hot young chickie who wiggles her butt at him. End of marriage."

"I don't think it's going to work out for Celeste," Arial said. "She wants to lie on a beach for the next 40 years, but Dad loves building. It'll be decades before he retires. Plus Mom owns half the company. She won't sell and she watches the books like a hawk!"

"Wow! A real Mexican stand-off!" Ingrid said.

"What's that?"

"Two gunslingers each have a gun pointed at the other's heart. If one shoots the other shoots and they BOTH DIE!"

"Grim," Arial admitted. "I love them both and they hate each other."

While talking the girls had been getting ready for bed, donning old t-shirts over panties and brushing their teeth. Ingrid had seen Arial in various stages of undress at their dorm, and her eyes had appreciated the girl's slender, almost skinny, body with its small, firm breasts, small nipples and slender waist flaring to slightly wider hips. Ingrid was pale, but Arial's skin was nearly transparent, and where Ingrid's lips and nipples were a dark rose, Arial's were a pale pink.

"Which side do you want?"

"I'll get in first," Ingrid said and the girls settled in, conscious of each other's nearness while arranging pillows and covers in the dim light from the bathroom. The bed was an old style double with just enough room for two who don't mind touching occasionally.

"Do you mind if I read a little?" Arial asked.

"No, of course. What are you reading?"

"I've got to choose a poem and write 200 words about what the poet was trying to say."

"Good old English Lit 102."

"Yep."

After awhile Ingrid said, "Your bed sure is comfortable."

"Oh god I hate my bed in the dorm! It's like the mattress is full of rocks!"

"When we get back I'll get the maintenance guys to bring you a new one. They hide them in the back of the warehouse, but they owe me a favor."

"Gawd that would be awesome. Thank you!"

"How are you finding college life?" Ingrid asked.

"Oh, well, classes are fine... kind of easy so far... but it's hard to make friends."

"That's because people think you're standoffish."

"Really? I'm not trying to be standoffish. Maybe I'm not as outgoing as some?"

"You seem a little shy. And you spend a lot of time studying."

"Isn't that what college is for? Studying?"

"Of course, but classes are only part of it. It's also a chance to explore, to try new things."

"I know that. I joined the Downhill Club and we have a ski weekend next month."

"That's a start. I hear those trips are a blast!"

Arial gave up on her book and turned off the light, but light still fell into the room from the bathroom door. Quiet fell in the shadows, but Ingrid could tell from her breathing that Arial was awake. She rolled on her side facing the girl.

"You sleep on your back or side?" she whispered in the intimate darkness.

"Mostly my side, I think, but I usually start out on my back," Arial said.

"Me too, mostly on my side."

Arial moved restlessly, her knees touching Ingrid's. She reached to pull the sheet down and her hand touched Ingrid's hip.

"Sorry."

"Okay."

Arial sighed. "I guess I'm not sleepy."

"Yeah, me neither."

"Are you hot? I'm hot. Mom always turns up the heat when I'm home."

"I don't think we need the quilt."

The bedding was rearranged.

The girls were intensely aware of each other, each feeling the other's warmth, listening to her breathing.

Ingrid felt a vibration from Arial, a sense that the girl was waiting for and wanting something to happen. Finally, slowly, Ingrid put her hand on Arial's shoulder and left it there waiting for a reaction. Arial sighed, then after a pause covered Ingrid's hand with hers. Ingrid kissed Arial's hand and the girl caught her breath. Ingrid kissed the younger girl's hand again then laid her cheek against it. She could hear the girl's hurried breathing. Then she reached down under the flannel sheet and drew a couple of fingertips lightly along the top of Arial's thigh from her knee to the edge of her panties.

Arial gasped and gave a slight thrust of her hips and Ingrid leaned close and kissed her on her ear. In the dim light she could see the girl's eyes widen, then drift closed, her mouth open and breathing shallow. Ingrid kissed her again on the tender skin of her cheek then Arial turned towards her and sought Ingrid's lips with hers. Soon their lips were pressed together while their tongues explored eagerly, first in Arial's mouth, then Ingrid's.

The kiss ended and Ingrid put her mouth to Arial's ear.

"Want to fuck?" she whispered.

"Ohmygod, yes PLEASE!" Arial replied eagerly.

Ingrid's fingertips now were steadily stroking Arial's thighs, drawing lines slowly from her knees to her panties, first one leg then the other. She began trailing her fingers along the inside of the girl's thighs, where nobody ever touched her, where the skin was soft and sensitive. The girl's hips lifted slightly each time Ingrid's fingers drew near her sex. They broke their kiss briefly, just enough for Arial to whisper "Ohmygod!" before eagerly pressing her lips to Ingrid's again.

Arial sat up, pulled her t-shirt off with Ingrid's help and threw it on the floor as the older girl grasped both small breasts, rubbing thumbs over the nipples. Arial pulled Ingrid's face to her chest. The older girl's mouth quickly found a half erect nipple and suckled, drawing a long groan from Arial. Ingrid sucked gently, swirling her tongue around the stiffening nub. Then she sucked harder, letting her teeth scrape lightly before switching and repeating her actions on the other small breast.

"Ahhhhh," Arial moaned.

Now the younger girl dragged Ingrid's t-shirt up and off. For a moment she just stared at Ingrid's pale breasts, rounder and fuller than hers, the dark nipples asking to be suckled. They embraced each other, feeling warm, soft breasts pushed against warm, soft breasts, kissing again hungrily. Ingrid knelt and pulled Arial to her, guiding the younger girl's legs around her waist and still their mouths devoured each other.

"I want to make you come!" Ingrid whispered in Arial's ear and the younger girl trembled, hugging harder.

Ingrid slid a hand between Arial's legs, cupping her sex through her panties. She rubbed firmly up and down sending jolts of sensation racing through the younger girl's body. The older girl led while the younger girl eagerly followed.