My Rose Does Bloom

Author Notes

This chapter continues Millie's experiences in high school with an erotic moment between our protagonist and a friend. If you did not read the first two chapters, you may want to so you understand the storyline. But if not, this chapter stands on its own as a lesbian sex romp. Constructive feedback is always appreciated.

nofaceinthemirror

Chapter 3

At school, I nervously searched for Rose, not knowing what to tell her, but knowing I had to see her. Frequently thinking about her stunning hair, sweet face and sexy smile, my mind was a frenetic mess, and I had trouble focusing. Oddly enough, I even remembered her pimples, and grinned about our word play of the day before. Rose, my Watson, my Guinevere, my Cheesecakes, that young woman had my brain on overdrive. I'd never felt like that about anyone, much less a female. Now I had more than my fair share of fantasies about girls, I'm not proud to say, but not like the ones about her. Rose was different. When I saw her in the quad, my pulse increased and my heart quickened. That beauty was like the lovely smell of a rainy autumn morning cleansing everything, and that rain made me wet in the sweetest of ways. For a few hours, I forgot all about my screwed up life.

She saw me, waved and came over. "How's Sherlock today?"

"Trying to solve Watson's problems."

"So, what's that bumbling Doctor's problem today?" she asked, smiling happily.

"Me thinks the Doctor needs a dirty poem."

"Oh, do tell the good Doctor."

"How bout a poem about good old shit fer brains?"

"Holmes is a poet? And can poeticize about shit and brains?"

"Holmes has many skills that Watson has yet to learn."

"Well, in that case, learn me my good man."

I thought, letting my little dirty mind wonder for a few minutes and conjured up a couple of lines that I hoped would make her laugh.

"Ahem," I started putting on a gallant show. "Please hold all applause until after the presentation."

"Oh yessir masser Sherlocks, I be more an just kind to yous and yourin poeticizin."

"Hey," I told her, "I'm sposed to be the funny one here!"

She bowed and did a fake curtsy, "Yessir masser."

"Ahem," I said again and looked at her daring her to speak. She smiled with a sly sexy grin. I smile back at her; she was so beautiful when she looked like that. She was always beautiful, and I felt honored to be in her company. I paused, swallowed, then started.

"Watson is a friend of mine with a funky little ass so fine, Upon one bitty silly day she kicked the ass of John the Gay,

'Fuck you Johnny you fag to be, go suck a Puppet and be happy.' Johnny looked quite corrupted, then went and sucked the dick of Puppet.

Watson called out in total glee, 'Johnny such a queer is he!' Smile she did that happy day that John the shit was fucking gay."

When she laughed, I wanted to take her in my arms and kiss her, and the next day, I did a lot more than kiss her.

*******

The rest of the day proved difficult as I reflected on my fantasies about Rose and crisis of the morning. Physical Education provided no relief, because the sight of all the girls in their skimpy shorts and tight T-shirts generated such an unnatural stimulation to my mind that I couldn't concentrate. A decent athlete, I excelled at track and volleyball, but I uselessly hindered my team today, missing volley, serve and eventually costing us the game. Trisha, the senior that dripped sex and seduction noticed.

My eyes focused on the divine way she manipulated her body in awkward positions with that superb athletic prowess she possessed. She was a powerful girl, outweighing me by at least twenty pounds with muscular hips, thighs and calves. On a particular tough shot, she ran into me and knocked me to the ground.

"Sorry," she said, "you okay, I get carried away with the game."

"Yeah, guess I'm sorta distracted today."

"Noticed, you're costing us the game."

"Just not into it."

"You're usually the second-best girl on the team, after me of course," she said rolling her eyes and reaching her hand out to help me up. "Call me Miss Modesty."

I chuckled, "You are pretty fuckin' good."

"It's in the boobies baby, in the boobies."

The girl was always a great kidder and hot to boot; we ended up laughing in a playful hug as the thirty-something instructor blew her whistle and yelled, "Two laps then hit the showers girls."

Trisha took off while yelling back to me, "I'm gonna kick your ass in this race."

Being a little embarrassed about my questionable athletic prowess, I took off after her. Surprised at the quickness in which I caught up, Trisha snarled at me in a fake expression and said between breaths, "Hey, this is my race, slow down. I gotta rep to protect."

I increased my pace and left her in my tracks.

Reaching the end of the run, I bent at my waist trying to catch my breath. Trisha soon followed and rested her chest to my back, laughing and saying, "Damn girl, you are a fast one. Now I'm gonna have to kick your ass."

I sighed while hyperventilating, enjoying the feel of her breasts on my back and the warm sweat that trickled from her body onto mine. Her odor was pungent, earthy, and her hand gently touched the nape of my neck as her long ponytail flowed over my ear providing the slightest tickle. Goose pimples shot across my body, and I fought arousal. Females excited me in a way that wasn't proper, but I couldn't stop the feelings deep within my being. My mind wished that Rose was the girl resting her breasts against my back, and I again sighed as Trisha stood, catching her breath and stretching. For all my false bravado, I was terrified to be with a girl, except maybe for Rose, with whom I felt strangely bonded. So much for me being the fearless one.

Trisha sat on the floor and flexed her muscular legs in a near split, extending her chest to the floor in an amazing display of dexterity and rugged femininity. This girl tempted me, and a queer mixture of anticipation, fear, and guilt flooded my senses leaving me a confused young lady.

The two of us dawdled for a few minutes, talking about the latest rock stars and many idiots that claimed they were celebrities. She especially rattled on about the skinny hotel heiress who liked nothing more than to show her nasty pussy to the cameras.

"That skinny bitch has a raggedy pussy; ya' ever seen it up close? Hell, I gotta video of her giving some guy with a little dick a blow job."

Never seeing a porno, I was very curious so I asked, "Really?"

"Yeah, you can come over and spend the night someday and I'll show it to you. I got access to tons of porn."

The offer, in and of itself, hit me between the legs, creating an unclear response, "I—I don't know."

"Ain't ya' ever seen porn? What are you, the last virgin in High School?"

I turned ten shades of red and she received an answer. Possessing a brave exterior on almost every issue, my inward persona regarding girls, sex and relationships was conflicted. Frightened like the proverbial babe in the woods, I wondered if I could ever follow through on a date like she described.

"Oh you sweet thing, you are much too pretty to be a virgin. I can help you take care of that sweetie. Give Trisha a chance, ya' won't be sorry; comes with a money-back guarantee."

I just stood with my mouth open, stunned at the girl's audacity. But I must admit, I loved it, and my pussy loved it even more. The girl stirred me too much for my own good. "We're gonna be late," I blurted out the only thing that entered my mind.

She shrugged, "Study hall next period and the coach don't care."

A little more concerned than Trisha, I cringed because Mrs. Blanchard, the high-and-mighty teacher of Language Arts, would surely give me detention.

Trisha, sensing my hesitation said with a devious grin, "Live a little, skip a class."

Generally, I played the game and stayed under the radar when it came to school, but I smiled at being a little mischievous and indicated yes.

"Showers should be cleared, let's go," she suggested.

I speculated why she wanted the showers cleared, but inside I already knew and beamed at the thought of what might happen next.

Walking into the locker room the tardy bell rang. The next period being a conference for the coach, we had the steamy place to ourselves, or so we thought. The coach turned a corner and entered, spotted us and yelled, "What are you two still doing in here? Get dressed and get to class."

Trisha winked at the coach, "Give us a sec Yvonne. Why aren't you in class?"

"Saw you out there and thought you might need some help," said the coach while looking down.

"Got it under control love, maybe next time?"

The coach looked disappointed and glared at Trisha, which surprised me. "Hurry up and get to class."

"We'll be along after our shower," Trisha salaciously responded.

The coach groaned, and perplexed at the secret message that went on between them I thought,

Are the coach and Trisha lovers? Nah . . . couldn't be.

Undressing across from me, I couldn't keep my eyes off her body. She noticed and clearly didn't hesitate in showing me her beauty. Teasingly, she bent at her waist and removed her tight lycra spandex shorts exposing her panty clad bottom. Trisha put on a show, and what excited me even more was that no one but the two of us knew of the striptease. At least I thought no one knew.

Looking at me and winking, she smiled and mouthed,

"You like?"

Feeling a little guilty about Rose, but unable to control my wanton lust for female comforting, I nodded my head.

She slowly rolled down her panties, revealing an ass that would rival Aphrodite. The shapely bottom, round, smooth and firm, caused my pussy to quiver, and I wanted to walk right up to her and kiss it. She pointed to the private shower that accommodated about four individuals, then slowly gave her nipples the slightest tug as she licked her lips.

I nodded again, understanding our silent conversation and grabbed my towel, shampoo and soap. I walked nude toward the shower, liberally dripping moist wetness from my pussy to the hard concrete floor.

She followed me, closed the door to the shower and looked at me with fire in her eyes that produced an equal fire in my belly.

"I want you," she said with certainty.

"The coach?" I inquired, attempting with little effort to get out of my predicament.

"Knows I'm a lesbian and so is she. This I know for a fact. Nough said?" she asked noticing my reluctance.

"But . . . "

"We could always ask the coach if she wants to watch; she'd like that."

This crazy girl, so relentless and carefree, caused my inhibitions to leave my mind as quickly as they inhibited me.

"Don't worry hon, I won't attack you. Just want you to help me wash my back. Okay?"

"Just the back?" I asked, not knowing if I was disappointed or relieved.

"If that's all ya' want."

Jeez, it was just a back rub between friends, right? No more than that, what could go wrong?

"Okay," I relented, knowing that I could not resist touching that stunning body.

She turned on a single shower and beckoned me over. I quickly complied. Wetting her long blonde hair she asked, "Shampoo first, maybe?"

I knew she would be asking for more than a back wash. In fact, I hoped with everything I owned she would, but could I do it? Could I cheat on the girl who wasn't my girl? My answer came when I opened the bottle of shampoo that smelled of lilacs in bloom on a warm spring day. My resistance was lost.

"Only takes a little, that's the expensive stuff."

I put a quarter sized dab in my hands and ran my fingers through her hair. Bringing her locks in closely, I breathed deeply as warm sensations of sex ran through my body. I caressed her hair to my cheeks and closed my eyes, sighing in comfort.

Trisha noticed, "Getting distracted baby? Just a back wash, right?" she teased.

That woke me up and again; a little guilty twitch about Rose entered my mind. Rose, I could never get her off my mind, even when I had the exquisite Trisha inches away from me. I must be in love.

There was no mistaking what we were doing, or what I thought we were about to do. It wasn't love, only raw undefined carnal lust, sex, the body erotic. A deep need that had to be satisfied with the touch of passion's intensely pleasurable mistress—raw sex, wild sex, that stimulated each cell in my body.

I wanted sex,

and I wanted it with a woman, Trisha was one fine sex-laden woman. Certain in my mind that I loved another, I compartmentalized this natural process away from my emotions and succumbed to animalistic frenzy.

As I continued to softly massage her scalp, she leaned back into me and warmly sighed, "Uhm, feels good, more."

I complied by delicately handling her locks as if they were silk butterflies able to flitter off at a moment's notice. She appreciated the attention by breathlessly responding, "You're so sweetly hot baby, so tough, yet innocent. I want that wet pussy of yours."

Trisha pulled free and finished rinsing her hair. She looked at me, water dripping from her taut body and pleaded with pouting lips, "How about I give you a shampoo now?"

Without a word I turned. She took the shampoo and started massaging it through my hair. Never having another so intimately attend to me in such an ambrosial manner caused my body to tense, releasing long dormant feelings. The sensuality of her tender ministrations possessed me. I basked in the glory that was to come as her hands pleasurably worked with great expertise in my hair. She treated my skin with a light tickling of her nails, sending unique ripeness within my pussy. Shivering, I cooed and indicated my sugary surprise of the fulfillment finding me by reaching up, taking her hand and nuzzling her soapy fingers to my cheek in my sudden sensual delirium.

I turned, and as I did, Trisha took my hand and placed in on her pussy, whispering, "Enter me." Touching the velvety smoothness, I shuddered at the splendor of her wetness. Soft wet folds easily parted, and I entered two fingers slowly in her apple and started a measured intense masturbation. She leaned back against the wall of the shower and winced, then her face took on an angelic look as she gasped in the triumph of her impending orgasm.

I focused on her face, eyes shut tightly, head leaning back and slightly tilted, lips moaning softly in orgasm's song. I delighted in Trisha's joy as she stiffened and the walls of her vagina flittered against my fingers. It was such a heady feeling. After a few minutes of gentle stroking, she opened her eyes, then held her breath and stared at me and shook. Finally loudly shouting, "Oh God," as an orgasm shot through her hot body, "don't stop!"

Continuing my pacing, wave after wave caressed my fingers, and she embraced and kissed me roughly, pressing hard and tickling my tongue with hers. My own senses tingled as she repeatedly exploded in a fantastic orgasmic rush for what seemed like eternity. Pulling away temporarily sated, Trisha looked into my eyes and said, "Beautiful! You are beautiful; that was beautiful." Then she kissed me deeply, driving me insane for her body.

She turned, leaned her bottom into me and gyrated her hips. Taking the bar of soap, I washed her intimately, creating a slippery bubbly lather. My hands caressed her back and bottom, cleaning with delicate freedom. She bent slightly at the waist and spread her legs, opening her cheeks further. I moved down and in close, my fingers rubbing deeply in the cleft of her ass. I didn't know how much more I could take. The sensations I was feeling were too moving, and much too engaging. She looked at me smiling and said, "Oh baby, I like the way you do that."

I fell to my knees, taking her firm bottom in my hands and squeezing with joy, causing her to squeal in unseemly pleasure. She rhythmically pushed back and forth desiring pleasure.

My slick breasts contacted the soft skin of her ass and trailed up her back as I rose, providing both of us with a reason to slightly moan. She turned her head back to me and we kissed, while my hands massaged her firm supple breasts and made them slick with sudsy dampness. Finding myself a mindless servant to my desires, my lips and tongue traveled from her lips, to her neck and back. Lowering myself to my knees again, I kissed her aromatic butt cheek. She sighed absently, "Nice, lick me."

Not knowing exactly what to do, I let my instincts take over and kissed the warmth inside her bottom. I wondered at my strange fascination, my delight in the newness, the eroticism and intimacy of what I was doing to Trisha's body. It felt natural, as if I was always meant to love women. At that moment I acknowledged what I knew to be true—I was a lesbian, and it was bliss.

I pulled back a second and looked up at her in surrender and amazement. She opened her eyes and looked back at me perplexed, "More?"

Smiling back, I nodded and enjoyed the comfort of pleasing a woman, with a full understanding that I loved women and wanted sex only with women. This was who I was—a maddened awakening thrilled my soul.

My tongue, as if having a will of its own, licked deeply and greedily as she started massaging her own pussy. She reached her hand back and pressed my face into her, reveling in my soft wet tenderness.

The sexiness of teasing a girl so privately consumed me, and I rejoiced in it, feeling an ineffable happiness in pleasing this lovely young woman so intimately, so sexually.

Lust drifted from my tongue to Tricia's sensitive anus, giving her body rich stimulation that her sounds of pleasure indicated she appreciated. I went at her hard, licking deeply as the warm waters of the shower partially hid the ever-increasing moans loudly escaping from her lips. Pleasing her was delicious, and I milked her bottom as a kitten sucking at her mother's breast.

"Finger me," she pleaded.

I found her slick folds, and two fingers slowly entered her cavern as I continued my intimate attention to her rosebud. Her hand began rubbing her clit at a rapid pace as she panted breathlessly pushing her bottom into my face. Her muscular lower extremities trembled as I continued stroking her pussy.

"Fuck," she yelled, then erupted in orgasm, falling to all fours as I trailed after her never leaving her pussy or bottom. Trisha convulsed repeatedly, finally pushing me away and whispering, "No more."

I couldn't stop, the glory of committing such a lecherous act pleased me, and I continued to stroke and lick. She gasped loudly, and again quaked in a Vesuvius like eruption that squirted juice from her throbbing pussy over my hand.

She fell forward, placing her face to the unsanitary shower floor and begged, "Please, no more."

Waking from my dream-like state I lifted. "Sorry," I said, really meaning it. "I just got excited, never did that before."

She stood and looked at me, "That was incredible. So I really am your first? You are a natural baby. That was hot!"

I shyly nodded, looking up at her from my knees. She gazed at me in wonder, took my hand graciously and licked her juice off my fingers. I stood and Trisha pushed me back to the shower wall roughly, kissing me deeply while thrusting her pelvis into mine. Tongues intermingled as she gave me her lust, lips and need. My body surged with desire and wonton carnal demand. She lightly chewed my bottom lip, playfully pulling it. I ground into her hips with zeal, completely uncontrolled.

"You're so hot," she whispered. This released my inner tigress to an even deeper level, and I resumed sucking and licking her neck, enjoying my first intimate experience with a woman like it would be my last. She bent back, allowing to me to drink in her firm breasts as my mind wished they were Rose's breasts, and once again, a twinge of guilt found me. Sweet Rose, would you let me love you like this?