Author's note: All sexual acts portrayed in this story are between characters aged 18 or older. Any resemblance to non-fictional people and events is neither intended by the author nor inferred by the text.
Thank you for reading. Please enjoy
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Chapter 2
"Blue Betty" was a powder-blue 1963 Ford Falcon. Eliza Munoz drove it around everywhere, ever since she inherited the Econoline van from her Uncle Miguel. He was the one who always told her, "Never buy a car you can't sleep in." She had been grateful for those words of wisdom ever since Kara kicked her out.
Having completed another boring shift at work, Munoz drove Blue Betty to one of the many local bed and breakfasts in town. By a stroke of luck, she had talked the owners into letting her rent a place until more permanent accommodations could be found. Even if it was only a little room in the basement (the rest of the house had to be kept ready for the summer tourists), and most of her minuscule living space was taken up by boxes, at least it was a roof over her head. And even a place like this would've been more than she could afford on a single income back in San Francisco's notorious real estate market.
Munoz descended the stairs into that cool, dark basement. She plugged in her cell phone, stripped off her uniform, and collapsed on the cot. Her first time at a bar in De Lilla didn't exactly go well (Did that guy's jaw ever heal right?) so Munoz took to sipping bourbon from a flask. She read the inscription: "Whiskey and beer are a man's worst enemies... But the man that runs away from his enemies is a coward!"
It was a gift from Kara.
Munoz knew it was over. Every last bridge had been burned until she didn't have a friend left in San Francisco. So she moved out to De Lilla, the closest place where she could find a job in law enforcement, even though she didn't know a damn soul in this tiny little town. Even after the move, she was still lonely. And horny. And just then, a little buzzed.
Sadly, there weren't any sex shops in De Lilla and Kara threw out all her toys. But at least the general store had some cheap lubricant in stock. Munoz coated her fingers in the stuff, slid that hand down her panties, put the other hand on her breast, and then got to work.
She pictured a woman in her mind. Short blonde hair, a cherubic face with great big dimples and a dazzling smile. Full curves covered in skimpy black lingerie -- an old birthday gift from Munoz.
Munoz could picture her dancing. She watched as Kara swayed her hips side to side, smooth as water. She shook her plump, shapely ass and felt up her copious tits, all to make Munoz feel better after a long day of work. Munoz could picture the dream girl straddling her -- a pair of firm young thighs rubbing against hers and a pair of spectacular tits in her face. The blonde grinded her hips into Munoz's lap as she reached back and slowly unclasped her bra. The girl coyishly held the bra in one place while letting the straps fall from her shoulders. Finally, with a smile and a small giggle, she tossed the bra aside to reveal a fantastic pair of C-cups.
Munoz rubbed herself harder at the thought of kneading such a beautiful pair. Taking hold of those breasts and licking those light nipples, to the audible delight of the girl grinding her hips against Munoz's upper thighs. Until finally, Kara would reach back behind Munoz, release the clasp, and set those caramel breasts free.
Munoz would move back up to her girlfriend's mouth, aggressively kissing her while the two had their hands free to explore each others' beautiful tits. And the rest of their bodies. The two of them kissed aggressively, with their tongues intricately dancing on top of each other, as their hands roved all over each others' supple breasts and curves. Finally, Munoz laid back as her dark brown nipples disappeared in Kara's mouth. Munoz was lost in pleasure as her nubs were licked and sucked with a warm and tender touch. And then she felt a hand on her waist, drifting ever downward along smooth mocha skin.
Munoz spread her legs further and cupped her own breasts, watching that mass of red hair drift down to between her thighs. She felt hot breath on the soaked fabric of her panties, and squirmed as the girl nuzzled her face against Munoz's crotch. The girl played with the elastic for a while, but she finally peeled Munoz' panties away from the dark brown cropped bush and glistening folds beneath. The girl took her time, rubbing Munoz's firm upper thighs and kissing her lower pubis, teasing a clitoris that was swollen with need.
Finally, as Munoz bucked her hips and moaned her desperation for more, the girl held back Munoz's hood. She kissed, then licked, then sucked on that sensitive pearl. Munoz could feel fingers around, against, and finally inside the engorged lips of her pussy. Munoz arched her back. She grabbed her own breasts hard enough to hurt. Her breathing quickened, and came out as desperate squeals. As the tongue against her clitoris and the fingers in her slit kept firing rapid waves of pleasure throughout her body, Munoz let out a cry of incomparable bliss. She kept on rubbing faster and faster, pushing further and further, crying out again and again until she willed the dream girl to disappear and let the tremors of orgasm run their course. Munoz willed her mind to go blank and to let sleep take her.
Instead, she kept hearing a strange voice. Like a whisper, growing louder and louder.
Finally, she recognized a word: "Tommy."
Munoz was back in her chair. She looked down.
"Tommy," said the girl between her legs.
This wasn't Kara. Munoz had never seen her before. And she would have remembered such a striking redhead with a beautiful diamond-shaped face and skin so pale and flawless that it practically glowed.
"Tommy," the girl repeated.
Munoz tried to say something, but she kept opening her mouth and no words came out. The naked redhead looked directly at Munoz with unnaturally bright green eyes. It's like she was struggling to say something important, and simply getting a word out took effort.
"Tommy," she insisted, just before Munoz started to fall.
***
Munoz bolted awake. She was gasping for breath. Her sheets were covered in sweat and the stench of sex. What time was it? She looked at her cell phone's clock: 3:27 AM.
Munoz rolled over and shut her eyes. She eventually went back to sleep by thinking about an old lullaby. She had only heard it once before, but she couldn't remember where and she couldn't have told anyone the first thing about it.
***
There were only 23 teachers at De Lilla High. And that was before Mr. Moultrie died. Which meant that the other 22 were left struggling to fill the unexpected void and pick up the slack, even as they mourned their lost friend and coworker. It was a tough time for the student body, too -- even the students who didn't like him had to wait and see how this might affect homework and exams in those last few crucial months of the year.
But only a bare handful of those students had to deal with the bewildered stress of personally witnessing the strange final moments of Mr. David Moultrie. And then there was Clayton Dawes.
Clay had spent the entire day arguing with himself over whether or not he should go back to Harmony Cliffs. By the time he finally did arrive, the sun was setting in the late summer evening. He watched the colors as they danced around the clouds above and the waves below. So many shades of pinks and yellows and blues interweaving with purple shadows. And then he waited for something to happen. Anything.
He looked down to the tide pool, not sure if he'd even see anything. But he did. Someone was down there, splashing in that same tide pool. Clay ran down the slope and across the beach as fast as he could. Though Clay slowed his pace when a wheelchair came into view. He recognized this wheelchair immediately, from the large De Lilla High Dolphins sticker on the back. Strange that he hadn't seen it sooner, Clay thought.
Sure enough, there was Becca swimming around in the tide pool. She was incredibly good at swimming -- it was one of the first things she learned how to do after the accident. Becca swam another lap, powered entirely by her upper-body strength, and then sat at rest on a shallow, slanted side of the pool. Exactly where Clay had first met the strange red-haired girl. Where was she, anyway?
"Hello? Earth to Clay?"
Clay snapped back and turned to Becca. "Huh? Sorry, what was that?"
Becca pointedly waved hello. "Hi. Glad to see you here."
"Oh. Yeah, good to see you too."
Becca swam over to his side of the pool. Her smooth, bare legs trailed behind her, strapped together to stay out of her way. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked. "You seem out of it."
"I'm... It's just been a long day, you know?"
Becca flipped over to float on her back. "Yeah. I know. Had to come down here to try and unwind. What about you?"
Clay noticed how her wet one-piece clung to her slender curves. "Same here, really. Just needed to think."
"You want to talk about it?"
Clay sat down at the edge of the pool. "Well... I mean, I was there. When he died. Did you know that?"
Becca looked up at him with a sad kind of curiosity in her pale green eyes. "No, I didn't."
"I could tell something was going on," Clay continued. "I just knew that something weird was going on with him."
"How?" asked Becca.
"Well... he was acting weird. Sorta distant. Vacant. He never said a word, he just kept singing."
"He was singing?"
"Yeah, some random song. But he seemed completely out of it. Just walking in one direction, like a zombie. Do you know if it's even possible to sing and sleepwalk at the same time?"
